#or. ever? at least not since the last time I reset my phone

[running-in-the-dark]

oops apparently there's 42gb of just photos and videos that I took (10,000 files). I guess I haven't gone through those in a while 😬

oh my god I get it your storage is almost full will you just shut up and leave me alone for five minutes?? the more I get these notifications the harder I ignore them 😤

[calware]

would you ever share a list of your fave fics to reread ? Id love to hear your recommendations and faves

sure thing :) i'm only going to list works that have been going on for a while (or at least have gotten past the very beginning of the story) and that i've read all the way through. i'm also not going to list any of the super iconic fics i like because this list is already pretty long. these are all based on stuff that i personally find more interesting to read about, mostly focused on the human characters and not a lot of romance

i don't really know if these first two count but they're too good to not include:

Jade Route by spicyyeti

a post-epilogues comic centering around jade, this is my favorite homestuck fanwork. i especially love the artwork and the way it frames the story. it is reaaallllly hard to read it on a phone so make sure to read it on a computer or tablet

House of Dirk by imarriedacherub no rating - graphic depictions of violence - 13,570 words - 20 chapters (unfinished) A sitcom about completely normal and well-adjusted newlyweds Dirk and Caliborn attempting to make a good impression on their son, Dave, and his boyfriend, Karkat.

another comic, this one hosted on both ao3 and mspfa (though the ao3 version has more pages). i like how ridiculous it is. will probably never be finished, sadly

moving on to the actual fics:

Reallocated by breezefulskies mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 324,756 words - 65 chapters (unfinished) Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there. Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.

hal is mysteriously sent to earth via unknown means and finds himself raising a baby as best as he can, which, given that he's glasses, is not easy. this is my favorite homestuck fic, not just because it's about hal, but also because i love the focus on family dynamics and the plot as it unfolds. begging everyone to read this, i can't say what happens exactly without spoiling things, it's just really really good. at the moment, it updates once a month

Ersatz Abyss by katreal mature - no archive warnings apply - 120,092 words - 39 chapters (unfinished) You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

another great hal fic. i managed to get my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read this and they really enjoyed it, so i'm sure you all won't have any problems liking this one either. there are a lot of fics out there of hal getting a body, but this one is very different in that it's not the happy ending that you might first think it is. this fic perfects the feeling of everything snowballing into a bigger and bigger problem until it all falls apart

Falling for the First Time by nobrandhero teen - no warnings apply - 63,818 words - 11/17 chapters The game is over, Alpha Earth resets to 2009, and Dirk's bro doesn't live up to expectations. The movie director who appears so chill and stoic in interviews is actually a talkative, needy dweeb like his teenage counterpart. It's not a bad thing, as far as Dirk's concerned.

for whatever reason, i'm a sucker for fics where the characters somehow end up on earth again post-game, and out of all the fics that follow that concept this one is my favorite. sadly, this one barely touches on jane and jake, but it's pretty interesting to read about what dirk and roxy are getting up to with their guardians (and the earth) restored to their previous conditions

The Haunted Harley House by hemoanarchists teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 78,462 words - 23 chapters (finished) There is an old house you built a long long time ago, alongside someone very close to you. Now as you don a new name, slipping back into society to care for a descendant, to whom tragedy has left you as her only family left, you take her to the house, the house that bears your family name. You really shouldn't have been surprised when he came to join you. It is his house too, after all.

carlah, a young girl who lives on earth c, has just been taken in by her uncle "jacob harley" after her mother's death. as time goes on, she slowly learns more about the true nature of her new guardians and the house they all live in. normally i'm not that interested in OCs but i love how intriguing carlah is as an outsider of the story. it's really easy to get invested in her as she uncovers a mystery we all know from the beginning and another that we have to learn along with her. shoutout to dysfunctional family dynamics

actually, while i'm at it, i'm going to recommend a bunch of other stuff he's written:

Atlantis Bound teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 33,263 words - 8 chapters (unfinished) Dirk tracks down an old friend

prequel to the haunted harley house but can also be read after (or separately). i really like the dynamic between dirk and vriska here, and i also love the way vriska's repeated reincarnation is utilized. vriska's journey through the newest iteration of her life while dirk watches over her is soooo captivating, especially when snippets of her previous lives are sprinkled in throughout. do you guys love cycles? personally i love cycles

Cherubian mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 54,011 words - 29 chapters (unfinished) The 5000 year time skip never happened, at the dawn of time the gods desperately try to guide the planet into a better future. But with tensions rising it feels like one bad day could bring everything crumbling down.

all of dante's earth-c god fics as a whole changed my brain chemistry and this acts as the beginning (and catalyst) of that overarching story. a lot happens in a very short amount of time

Transitional teen - no warnings apply - 1,860 words - oneshot a simple question what changed when you went godtier?

super simple but also an interesting exploration of the headcanon that players' bodies change when they go godtier. the twist is that each "change" is unique to each character and relates to their Self in some way

Monster under the bed teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,573 words - oneshot Skeletons in the Closet mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,910 words - oneshot Small Talk teen - no warnings apply - 8,944 words - 6 chapters (unfinished)

putting all three of these together because i believe(?) they're all part of the same narrative

[freckliedan]

in your opinion do you think that now they’re not in the closet publicly anymore, it’s not that they necessarily care that people think/know they’re together, it’s just more that they want to keep their actual relationship private?

ooh this is a good question honestly! i mean, they've said it themselves that they're private, and their actions back that up too. i think a huge part of the way they've navigated the privacy for their relationship while & since coming out has been about setting a clear boundary, considering the past violations of their privacy?

but honestly i think there's another huge piece of why they've been so private over the last five years and why that's changing now! i think the gaming channel hiatus era has been their individualization era, which was important for dan especially. like, phil had some time as an adult to learn who he was before he met dan; all of dan's identity formation as an adult happened in the context of his relationship with phil.

spending your entire adult life in a relationship with someone, AND living with them AND working together AND having shared friends for the vast majority of those years? speaking from experience: you can reach a point where you're less able to identify your own individual wants and needs and strengths and dreams, even if it's a healthy and beautiful relationship.

especially if there was any level of tumultuousness in your home life lol

with the added pressure of being a public figure it makes a lot of sense to me that a hard reset had to happen for dan's exploration of who he is and wants to be and enjoys doing with his career to succeed! dan is not okay being fucked over is such a heartbreaking thing, but the time dan spent almost completely out of the public eye followed by a fully solo tour & span of his career shere he was regularly posting is like—it makes sense!

it makes sense that the last 5 years were focused on everything but their relationship! but it also makes like equal sense to me that they're returning to the gaming channel and joint content and a higher level of being open with us, too.

they tried fully solo careers. and i'm sure they both know now, what they like doing independently of one another. but it's so clear to me that they've returned to the gaming channel because they genuinely love to make videos together, and it's a part of them making a fully informed choice about their future careers.

like. it actually really grinds my gears when people say that dan and phil only came back to the gaming channel for the money, tbh! because yeah, i'm sure it's one of their best options for bringing in money. but like... yall they are rich people. they absolutely have money invested. they absolutely are having their money managed. they almost certainly could pull off never working again if they wanted to.

they wouldn't phone it in just for money, not with the standards they've consistantly shown themselves to have for the work they do. like, yes, they're doing their job and making money for it. but i just don't understand seeing this as anything but a choice they made because they love working together—and because they're sure of that, having spent half a decade on solo projects.

the individuation era ending also makes the higher level of being open about their lives make sense. i've always thought we were due for a being loud about how happy they are in their relationship era post coming out and. well. this is definitely that. i can't say i ever wanted to hear this much about their sex lives but i also can't truly say i'm surprised!

i think this is an era of shifting boundaries to be at least a little more open regarding their relationship and life together and i think that's what they're boiling us about this gamingmas! ultimately they're always going to keep more to themselves than they ever share with us but like. things are changing!

[yakool-foolio]

what would you say are the traits to keep in mind for preventing mischaracterization of Yuma?

It's worth clarifying before I go into this that these are traits I personally look out for whenever I plan to write for Yuma. This isn't a targeted critique at anyone else's interpretation of Yuma. Writers are free to write however they want for a character, and I just happen to stick closer to canon while still taking creative liberties with elements that I believe can be expanded upon. If anything, this is just a nice reminder for myself, while potentially giving advice to those looking for it. Anyways, I gotta actually answer the question!

I haven't written as much with Yuma as I've done for Vivia, Yakou, Yomi, and even Shinigami (I really need to write more for Hitman Zilch too augh). But I still like to have some things in mind just in case I ever decide to write for him. The main aspect of Yuma's characterization that I try not to slip up on is his amnesia! From what I've noticed, Yuma remembers what things are, but doesn't remember any experiences he has with those things. For example, he knows what detectives are, but he doesn't remember ever working as one, which extends over into all memories of the WDO. He knows what cooking is and remembers the basics of how to cook, but he can't remember any actual recipes that he's read, so he ends up making horrible food. In essence, it's like if a phone wasn't factory reset, but the photo album and downloaded apps were completely wiped, and only the basic apps automatically on the phone remain.

This next element isn't necessarily for Yuma specifically, but it's a very important part of his arc: don't forget Shinigami! She's here, she's there, she's everywhere! While she can turn invisible at will (as shown by chapter 0's aftermath), she's still chained to him throughout the entire game and loves to comment about almost everything going on around them. They tend to bicker in their shared thoughts, which is fun to capture when thinking about scenes for them. This is something that matters to me a lot since I'll be writing a lot of Shinigami for my Death Knight Yakou AU. I always want to keep in mind that Shinigami will most likely have something to say at anything that catches her eye, and whether Yuma (or Yakou in my case) ignores it, replies to it, or turns it into a full-on conversation depending on what's called for and if it'll add anything small to their characters or have some entertainment value.

Last but not least, Yuma isn't wholly innocent or exempt from indirectly killing culprits. Yuma actively decides to access the Mystery Labyrinths as a sort of self-defense mechanism. When he or his allies are at risk of being hurt or killed, he calls upon Shinigami, despite knowing that the culprits will be killed and that it won't ensure their safety. The only reason Yuma and his allies weren't killed in chapter 3 and 4 was because of good timing from others intervening. He may have killed in an act of self-defense and to better understand the conflict, but it doesn't mean he's clean of any blood on his hands, especially when he wanted to kill Icardi for the murder of Shachi. When he's angry, he's angry. He has shown that he can be enraged enough to want someone to die, so I like to have that stored in the back of my mind if ever I need to write for a wrathful Yuma that can and will choose violence if his back is to the wall and his allies are in danger.

[brighteststar707]

I was digging through my drafts last night and found this drabble from sometime last year. It's a little reset theory idea I was playing around with that ended with me writing the 'Tell Me A Story' short. I was inspired at the time by both Hadestown (the cyclical nature of the tragedy) and the Howl's moving castle film (when Sophie meets Howl in the past and asks her to wait for him).

I'm not sure if I'll ever flesh out this idea entirely so I thought I'd release this (unedited!) instead of leaving it to gather dust in my folder.

You already know how it ends. You’ve walked down this road so many times before.

A few months ago, you held Saeyoung in your arms as he drifted off to sleep. Usually you’re the one to fall asleep first. He always teases you about it. Tonight, though, you want to be awake for as long as possible.

You gently caress his head and whisper against his skin “Wait for me.”

As you feel the darkness wrap around you, heavier than sleep, you wonder if he heard you. If, somewhere in his dreams, he hears your voice echoing. Wait for me.

What a cruel request. If only you were selfless enough to let him forget you.

But you’re not. Which is why, tonight, you find yourself out late at night, staring at your phone screen waiting for it to hit midnight. When you close your eyes, you can still see the lock screen image flashing at you. The numbers, stubbornly stuck at 11:58PM.

Tonight, it’s cold.  It’s been a while since you’ve experienced a winter here. Last time, you managed to spend a full year with him, August to August. Ironically, your least favourite time of year. Your memories are full of unforgiving heat. Nights where you pulled him outside with you, filled with a giddy childlike joy.

You have to work to keep the memories of each trip separate. To not let them bleed together. They all differ from each other slightly. The time of year, the persona you wore. The only thing that remained the same was the ending.

Finally, you feel your phone buzz with a message.

Unknown: …Hello…?

And finally, it begins. There’s always something magical about your first conversation with everyone.

You step into the apartment and resist the urge to look up at the security camera you know is pointed at you. Then, you turn around and give it a big smile and wave anyway. You imagine him watching you from his dark desk. Does he feel a small spark of recognition? Does he hear your voice, as if from a dream, begging him to wait for you?

You’re antsy. Desperate, even.

The first time he calls you, the air is electric. It’s like your whole being has been waiting to hear him again. You feel a warmth spreading through your fingertips.

You have to act startled, like a stranger. You shouldn’t make him suspicious.

Shouldn’t.

To pass the time, you let yourself imagine doing all the things you shouldn’t be doing.

In your dreams, you leave the apartment and go to his house. You’ve picked up enough Arabic to get past the security system (sometimes, in your more self-indulgent fantasies, it recognizes you and lets you in without a fuss; we’ve been waiting for you). All the lights are off, you find him sitting at his desk.

He turns around (he was expecting Vanderwood). You grab him by the shoulders and make him look at your face. You look into his eyes and will him to remember.

Sometimes he remembers. His expression softens into a smile and he holds you in his arms. He kisses every part of your face and tells you that he’s missed you.

In the more realistic fantasy, the Saeyoung you find is guarded. He is hostile and scared. He doesn’t know how to hope yet. You beg him to remember, recount memories of days together. tell him stories of two people so deeply in love that they’d cross time over and over again to be together. 

He doesn’t believe you, and you already feel your heart shatter.

“You’re telling me stories. Fairy tales.”

“They’re memories. Yours and mine.”

Then it stops.  

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 127 - The Aftermath

Xander tries to take his mind off of the other day with some yoga. It doesn't work.

At breakfast, when Gemma asks to go to the park, Xander agrees.

Gemma: Can Jaden come?

Xander doesn't have the heart to tell her what happened.

Xander: I think he's busy today, muffin.

Ophelia is beside herself, but she tries to put on a brave face and works through her feelings the way she does best: through music.

Jaden didn't deserve to have parents like that, and now he couldn't even get a break from them with the Lemons. It's not fair.

Gemma heard the sound of the piano from downstairs and comes to keep her mommy company.

Jaden was Gemma's best friend. How were they supposed to tell her his parents forbade him from being around them? How do you have that talk with a toddler?

Gemma fell asleep to the sound of the piano, so Ophelia goes to talk to Xander.

Xander: You feeling better, Lemon Cake?

Ophelia: Hanging in there. I keep trying to think of ways to fix this.

Xander: I've been trying to rub my two remaining brain cells together too.

Xander: The past few days have been hard. Gemma wanted to go to the park, it might help us clear our minds. Maybe I can call my sister, see if her and Omari and her girls want to come too.

Hilary and Omari got engaged recently and they hadn't seen them in person since then.

Ophelia: That sounds like a great idea. I need to talk to some adults that aren't crazy.

Omari's twins were older than Gemma, but they liked playing with her. At least it might make Gemma feel less lonely. Lulu would be there but she's not very good at making sand castles.

Though Gemma loves babbling at Asha and Zuri, she wishes Jaden was here. They always have so much fun at the park!

Lulu's just glad to be involved.

It's been a while since we've seen Hilary and Omari. Hugs are in order.

Ophelia: I'm so excited for you two! It's about time. You guys have been together since before Xander and I got married.

Hilary: Hey, after my last marriage, excuse me for not wanting to rush.

Ophelia: Ha!

Xander: You said on the phone there was something else you wanted to tell us. What's up?

Hilary: Well, you know I'm getting on in years, and Omari's not much further behind me. I don't want to miss out on the kids' lives or future milestones…

Xander: Yeah?

Hilary hesitates, but an encouraging nod from her fiancee helps her proceed.

Hilary: Omari and I have saved our aspiration points and we're going to get Potions of Youth to reset our ages before we become elders.

Xander: That's great news! Why'd you seem worried to tell me?

Hilary: I know Mom and Dad didn't believe in using potions to play Watcher. I don't want you to think less of us.

Xander: Are you kidding? I want both of you to stick around as long as you can. I can't annoy you if you're not here.

Xander: I age up into an adult in a few weeks. Does this mean I'll be the older one now?

Hilary: No, I'm going to take it before your birthday so you can't lord that over me.

Xander: You know me too well, Hil.

Ophelia: I know you said you don't want wedding presents but I couldn't resist…

Omari opens the present, revealing a lovely tea set.

Omari: This is beautiful. Thank you!

Becoming sisters-in-law with your former client is odd, but Omari couldn't ask for a better one.

Xander pulls his sister in for a hug. Not having his parents there for his wedding or to meet his children stung, but he's glad his big sister will be around for a long time.

Hilary: Thank you for being supportive, little brother.

Xander: Thank YOU for sticking around.

Xander: Now that you'll be younger, maybe you two can have a science baby.

Omari: Oh Watcher, no. The twins keep us busy enough.

Hilary: We would make beautiful babies though…

Omari: Xander, stop giving her ideas!

Xander: I feel like I should have the "don't hurt my sister" talk with you, but I don't think threatening to kick a woman's ass is a good look.

Omari lets out a laugh.

Omari: Xander, if I ever hurt a hair on that woman's head, you have my full permission to kick my ass.

Gemma smiles as she sees the grown-ups having fun. Asha and Zuri are okay at making sandcastles, but it's just not the same as it would be with Jaden. She hopes he comes over to play soon!

[daisydezem]

So today I turned 33😊 and its been a good(ish) day. I just wanted to vent a little bit about what else is going on in my life so yeah I'll write a little bit about it.

Triggers: period, doctor, IUD, hysterectomy (uterus removal)

In 2021 December I got the injection pill. Ever since my period was whacky. I had no period for a month and then for 2 months in a row. I went to the doctor and he gave me some hormone pills to make it stop and it did. Then the same thing happened. 1 month not then 2 months in a row (and with that I mean every day for those 2 months) so I went to the doctor again.

This time he wanted to reset my period patarn so with the injection pill I also got the normal pill. I called the pharmacy and the lady on the phone asked if that was right. So I explained and she said okay well then just come pick them up. I did have a little bit of period for like 2 weeks but that wasn't so bad. Then I started to notice myself change.

I was emotional, crying (and normally I hate crying), angry and just a whirlwind of emotions. I got my period again September 28th. A week later I had to have the injection shot again. So I asked the nurse if I should still keep taking the normal pill as well. She asked me what? So again I explained what the doctor had said and she asked me... are you okay? And I said yeah sure... I didn't want to admit I wasn't. But she did said to stop the pill.

Was I okay? That question rang in my head. And no I wasn't... I was crying at work because someone had a pretty last name, because I saw a elderly couple in a commercial shopping... I was crying all the time but the weird part was I didn't feel sad at all. So I called the doctor again and asked for a female doctor. This was early November and I had my period from September 28th. I had a lot of blood (one hour for the largest tampon was already blood through) and heavy cramps and I stopped working due to it on November 19th since I couldn't tell my manager how I would react if there was a calamity and if I would be able to guide people into safety.

I talked about this with the female doctor. And you know what she said? "I think you might be depressed" What? No, I wasn't. My hormones and period are a out of control. But I was send home with the advise to rest for a week and call in a week if things weren't better. They weren't and I called. I sat with the same doctor asking for a meeting with a gynaecologist but she just said maybe you just need to go back on the pill and to be safe (since I got pregnant being on the pill) your partner should just get a vasectomy. But that won't slove my hormones, sense of security, my bleeding or my cramps. So I begged to see the gynaecologist and final I was able to see one in December (still everyday on my period, heavy cramps and hormones moodswings)

We did some tests, I had anemia, had too much hormones because of the combination of injunction pill and normal pill and showing signs of exhaustion. And I was done... I just said remove it. But they didn't want to because I was too young. I might want kids in 5 years... I DONT! She told me to at least wait to see what would happen if all hormones from the pills were out of the body. So we did...

Fast forward to the end of January of this year. Things hadn't changed, still on my period everyday, my exhaustion was worse and the pain of the cramps were less and less doable since I couldn't power through because of the exhaustion. So I was given painkillers and it helps a bit. But they were still painful and getting more frequent. So she decided to try a IUD. It was placed February 6th.

Thise who have them know putting them in isn't very nice. It hurts... but the days after I was in horrible pain. It got worse. It felt like I was in labor. But after 2 weeks it got a bit better. The bleeding was still there but I was able to sleep and I even went to work for a few hours. Then I had a check up to see if everything was okay(mind you everytime it's a vaginal ultrasound that I went to the doctor) She checked and no it wasn't. I had cramps so much I pushed I halfway out of the uterus. So we made an appointment to re adjust it again a week later. I was with a camera, she put it on the right place again and same thing happened. I was in pain... lots. It felt like I was in labor. And last Thursday I had a check to see it it was still in place this time. It wasn't...

Now she said okay we tried everything so now we are gonna do a second opinion in a different hospital. And see if we can do a hysterectomy (removal of the uterus) Like I fucking asked for in December...

I'm pissed, exhausted and done. This year was awful. And I hope next year will be better. Since thus hasn't just had an effect on my own health physical and mentally... but also on my work, my social life, being a nice fun mom and put a lot on my partner and our relationship.

As I said in the beginning I just wanted to vent. I needed to put it down. I've been on my period from September 28th on. Some days worse and some better. Thank those who got to the end...

[sci-fi-freaksandgeeks]

outing some of the truly awful things my mother has said or done (because this is tumblr and she'll never see it, and even if she does, she won't believe it's about her):

1.when i was 13, she discovered a text i'd forgotten to delete before a nightly phone-check, in which i told my best friend that i had "broken up with [my boyfriend] because i realized i'm gay," which then led to a further investigation into my internet doings where she found my secret s/h account, and ultimately ended with her storming into my room at 3 a.m., breaking my phone in half in front of me, making me sleep in her bed the rest of the night, and checking me into an inpatient facility at 8 a.m.

2. she then made my 10 year old brother lie to everyone at school and say i was home sick with the flu while i was in said inpatient facility

3. when i got out and was doing my mandatory two years of outpatient therapy, she found a new therapist every time they brought her in for our family sessions and she felt like she was being blamed; when it happened with the last therapist, she even went so far as to storm out in the middle of session

4. from the night she broke the phone (i call it d-day in my head, i know that's really not classy or anything okay i started doing it when i was 13 and didn't even really know history) but anyway from d-day until my 18th birthday i was effectively grounded: no phone, restricted internet access (ill come back to that actually), and definitely no going out with friends or to sleepovers.

5. when i was about 16, we'd moved a couple of times and ended up at this huge school that tbh i hated, but anyways i met a girl that i didn't hate, and then when my mom found out she'd had enough and pulled me out of public school altogether.

6. so then for the next 9 months she thought i was homeschooling, but since i quickly learned that a) i wasn't actually attending school through an accredited online academy but rather a website set up by some christian lady who taught her own kids, and b) my mother couldn't actually be bothered to check and see if i was actually doing anything, i factory reset the "restricted" computer she gave me for school and spent my nights online talking to the aforementioned girl, and my days sleeping and ignoring my mother's email's (that's how she communicated with me since she took my phone away)

7. told me i looked like this dog-

-any time i straighted my hair

8. this one was actually one of the few awful things she's ever said to my brother: she told him he "should be ashamed of himself" when he was almost 20 and told her that his girlfriend was pregnant, even though she got pregnant with me at 18 (projecting much??)

9. soooooo many snarky comments about any thing and everything - from disapproval of the few hobbies i tried to find joy in, all the way to comments about every aspect of my appearance

10. okay last one - the one and only time i tried to get her to sit down and meet a girlfriend, yknow, to see how happy and healthy i was, she ignored my girlfriend the entire time, only talked about her job or people my girlfriend couldn't possibly know, and actually stormed out at the end of the meal when i told her she hadn't made much of an effort to talk to my girlfriend and it upset me (she paid for lunch on her way out at least)

[allylikethecat]

sleepover weekend!!

i did a sunday reset because i was feeling inspired by those Clean Girl Aesthetic™️ vids on tik tok and i thought it would be a good way to manifest a smooth work week ahead haha multiple people have called out ahead of time and apparently that means i’ll be answering phones all day tomorrow but i guess on the bright side, if my Monday is terrible at least i’ll have a nice clean home to come to!

anyway, time for some questions!!

- are you a coffee tea energy drink or soda person? what’s your go to?

- do we know if fictional!Matty is having a girl or boy in MWFD or are you gonna surprise us?

- would any of to ur fictional matties and georges have skincare routines?

- lastly, if you could only recommend one book to everyone what book would that be?

🥤

Hello My Dearest Smoothie Anon! I apologize for somehow missing this last night omg you are incredible for embracing the clean girl aesthetic! I am the... opposite of the clean girl aesthetic I never gave up the indie sleaze of my youth haha I hope you were able to have a good Monday at work despite the call outs and that if it wasn't the best that coming home to a clean home made it better! I had a wildly busy day at work I think I was in meetings like 99% of the day I barely even had time to answer emails!

Oooo these are some fantastic questions!

I am an all of the above kinda person lol

Diet Coke is like 99% of my personality. Is it extremely bad for me? Yes. Do I love it almost as much as I love Pop? Also yes. I love my DC and will not be giving it up. I also love energy drinks - I was a white monster girlie but I've been branching out into Celsius lately since I would usually drink them before like being active / and apparently that's the best time to drink a Celsius? I also LOVE coffee, I will never turned down an caramel latte (hot OR iced) with oat milk. I don't like hot tea, but I do get a blueberry lavender iced tea from this local coffee shop every morning. Diet Coke will always be my main love though.

I was originally thinking a girl because I feel like Fictional!George has girl dad energy BUT I'm not fully decided yet and I am open to hearing peoples cases for a boy if they want to share!

I think all of my Fictional!Georges care about their skin, making sure to wash their face and moisturize. ATKH Fictional!George in particular is very concerned about sunscreen and thinks that Fictional!Matty needs to get on the sunscreen train. Meanwhile, Fictional!Matty has been wearing the same eyeliner for three days. Infection Verse Fictional!Matty is getting better about it as he gets older though, and On a Friday Fictional!Matty had a routine before his body fell apart - now he's just proud of himself when he manages to wash his hair.

That final question omg way to just pick the hardest question EVER OMG I don't know if I am capable of choosing a favorite children like that?! Of 2024 though my favorite books that I've read (so far!) are Ninth House, The Priory of the Orange Tree and A Fate Inked In Blood.

Thank you so much for these fun questions and the Sunday night / Monday night update on your week! I hope you had a good Monday and that you have a wonderful week!

❤️Ally

[tera-91]

Ranting and its only the beginning of June

The last while has been … interesting.

I haven’t heard anything from the manager so I am still in the dark if I still have a job. I feel like people are second guessing my choice to quit my job. Even if they think it was the “right” choice I keep getting asked questions. Like do you have anything lined up? Do you have another job? What are you going to do? And a bunch of other similar questions.

I cant tell if these questions are infuriating or just plain exhausting. Quiet honestly, I haven’t even applied to another job. Ive looked but haven’t applied. Its not because I think I might still have one, I think Im just decompressing.

Like I was burnt out.

Or maybe I was just overwhelmed.

I feel like I’m getting more motivated. Getting more inspiration.

I may not have finished them all but in the last almost month since I informed those that needed to know that I did not want to work there any longer I have started at least 8 stories. Im not sure that I started 8 stories in the last 6 months, maybe year.

What you just read was from several days ago. At this point I don’t even know how many days ago.

Most of the days seem to pass without getting much done as far as “physical” things so it is a little difficult to keep track.

I heard from that manager.

Jackass.

Spent easily 4 to 5 times longer on the phone than needed just to be told there are better options than me. Basically due to my physical limitations (I am not legally disabled) and my personal obligations I said before day one I couldn’t work past a certain time during certain days of the week.

So I told the higher up manager what this one said. Mostly because I have work with this manager for a long time, so I was just giving a curtesy heads up. This manager really has no say as far as that managers people so I wasn’t really expecting anything, not wanting anything. Plus at this point I had applied to a handful of jobs and put this manager as a point of reference.

No way will I ever use that manager as a reference. He is just enough of a vindictive individual that I don’t trust giving that information to perspective hiring people to speak to.

Well this manager said for me to come in. Maybe I could do something under a different manager. While not as many hours. It would just be something to keep me from fully being out. At least until this manager thinks things can be patched with that manager.

I am not hopeful.

Honestly, I don’t want to patch anything up.

I worked one shift already and know that I cant stick around.

At least not doing that.

If this manager ends up talking to that manager and that manager calls me saying things can get sorted. I honestly don’t know if I would.

The clock has been reset.

I will have some income from that shift anyway.

I have a little time before the next shift to keep me in the system.

I know what I want to do but not how to do it. I feel like I would be letting this manager down. Feel like I will be breaking a bridge. Not completely severing it. Just leaving it broken. Not quite safe to travel back across.

Im sure if that manager ended up leaving and this manager was still around, although rumor is they wont for much longer, this manager would bring me back. Little to no questions asked.

My friends have told me to do what feels right. Taking a break would be ok.

I believe them. I just havnt been able to push myself over that hurdle.

I don’t know what is stopping me.

Maybe a fear of rejection from another job opportunity I have in mind. Maybe a fear of failure when it comes to my book.

I still haven’t touched it.

I seem to be stuck in a loop.

Get up, take care of my furballs. Try to get some stuff done around the house or run errands but end up just binge watching shows that I need to catch up on. Then I feel this urge to be productive. When I feel like it would be safe to tackle things. By then though its late afternoon which is usually when I feel drained.

Then I wonder why did I not try to be productive earlier. When I didn’t feel as drained. Even though I know at that time I was lacking motivation. With one pup still recovering from surgery I didn’t feel safe leaving the room. Later afternoon is when they are also drained and sleeping.

Frustratingly.

Even when I do get the urge to do something and have the mental and physical capacity to do something. I procrastinate.

Before I sat down to write this I spent the better part of 30 minutes cleaning up a small area in my room. Then I checked to see if there were any more jobs to apply to and got a snack.

Really, I shouldn’t be writing this. But I haven’t done an update in I’m not sure how long.

Other than feeling like I could go take a nap my brain is telling me that I should be doing one of a handful of other things.

One thing I know cant take me long. Maybe 20 minutes. But no longer than 30.

Part of me feels like it is too loud. Or Im just too tired.

The next day is kind of better.

As of writing this I havnt done that thing yet but I probably will here soon.

Im still kind of tired but I feel like I cant start it until I give the pups their meds.

Finally heard back from the vet.

Not a lot of conclusive results for my big pup. Not sure why the heart did what it did but its responding to the meds. Just needs to have more frequent visits to make sure it stays that way and needs to lose some weight.

Which we have been trying and for the most part were successful. 2 pounds in 9 weeks. But then my little pup needed surgery and is not allowed to do a lot of stuff. So instead of walking several miles a week we might get just one in. I have a buggy that luckily the little one won’t jump out of and just sits as we stroll around. Its so hot that we can only go first thing which is not always an option.

I am going to get to work on some things now. Now that it is June im sure the weather is in full swing for most of everyone. Stay safe and please stay hydrated!

[danielleee-x]

A year in my life.

January

I was doing good during christmas & nye, it's always a bit stressful but I'm doing alright.

Or am I?

That's when I crash, usually middle of or end of January is when I stop functioning. I stay laying in bed one day and fast forward it's February and I haven't gotten up just once.

Feeling pain in my bones, the weight of every movement I made in the past month crushing my muscles and spirit day by day.

And getting weaker with every breath. Every bite. Every swipe on Instagram. Until my speech has left and I need to communicate through that thing that hurts - my phone.

But I was doing alright, wasn't I?

February

The days seem to be fleeting. Shouldn't forget to at least get better before my sister's birthday..

Laying in bed day in, day out. Darkness within my room. Awake at night, asleep during the day. In and out of weakness.

I don't remember what I ate or felt that day or yesterday or the day before that.

Wasn't new years eve just a week ago?

Wait stop, it's moving to fast!! Stop.. please..

I don't even know how to process all of this yet...!!

March

I should really pull myself together. But I can't get my sleep schedule to turn around.. I try and try with no success.

My hatred for myself is growing stronger and stronger.

What's even up with my hair? When did I shower last? It wasn't January, was it? And my skin? Have I even touched it in the last 8 weeks?

I'll prioritize a shower for now. I'll wait until my mom has time to brush my hair so I can go and wash it with shampoo atleast 3 or 4 times.

But she doesn't seem to have any time or energy...

Mom, please, before April.. Before your birthday please!

April

My mom's birthday is in 8 days.. No matter when my hair will be washed, I won't be able to attend it. Just like all the other hangouts I've been invited to the last 2 months.

Oh well.. She won't be getting any gifts from me this year.. I'm sorry for being such a useless piece of shit mom.. I swear I'm sorry.

I'll still prioritize my shower because without having showered first I can't workout to get better. So she helps.. Somewhere before her birthday but nonetheless it takes a week to reset and be able to sit up in bed again, nevermind even just blinking or watching a movie..

My dad's birthday is soon..

I should prioritize my health though, I should workout when I can, no matter the consequences of missing his birthday or getting attacks again.

Why am I not getting better after my shower? Why can't I go workout? What is happening to me? Why is swallowing so tough and breathing so hard?

I have time though, I should get better until May. It'll be fine. Either way I want to celebrate my birthday..

May

One small month time to get good enough to atleast go for dinner for my birthday. Maybe even meet some friends.

I can finally workout. It seems to be going well! I feel on top of the world! Within a week my luck has turned, I can function like a normal girl!!

This is so exciting. I have to keep this up. Workout weekly. Eat well. Don't let myself slip.

My birthday was good. Not what I would've wished for but my wishes were too big nonetheless so it's okay!

June

I'm doing good. The heat is a bit bothersome though. I'm able to workout and be active but choose to spend a lot of my time in my cool bedroom and either game or just be on my phone.

But no proper issues though, not like January, February, March or April...

I don't however see myself showing any skin or enjoying swimming or sun with the body I'm in. I gained so much weight since December, all because I ate but couldn't shake it off. I gained and gained and now feel like the ugliest person in this world.

I'll never show my body to anyone ever again.

But still, I'm doing good. It's just a bit warm in all these oversized shirts, that's all.

July

Same thing as before. It's too hot to be active. I have some parties here and there and hangout with some of my loved ones but not a lot.

August

Same sentiment still.

September

I can finally plan some stuff. Start going on my daily walks again. Enjoy life, which is nice!

October

I'm overdoing it for sure, I'll burnout soon if I don't stop..

But I don't think I'll stop..

Quitters are losers don't forget.

The changes of the weather are starting to wear me down a lot, feels like I'm stuck in mud and can't move on..

I feel the control of my illness slipping away..

I'll keep my head high though, it'll be fine!

November

You shouldn't push forward whenever there's resistance. I wish I'd learn that someday.

I'm in bed again, breathing heavy and barely moving...

These patterns in the past couple of years are rough. They'll wear me down in time.. I'll be nothing but a weak fragile person laying in bed all day and in need of a wheelchair as my main if I don't start taking care of my body...

December

In bed all day.

Slumming around.

Barely speak to any of my family all month.. Although at least until Christmas and NYE..

That time will be a horror in disguise but I'll push through and enjoy every part as much as my body can.

No.. actually more than my body can..

I'm sure it'll be a better one next year..

I've learned so much! There's no way it'll be a repeat of the past. I've got it this year. I'll have a healthier life than just staying in bed 6 months or more.

Next year will be mine.

Is what I say, every time.

[mimi-ya]

reset part II ~ portgas d. ace x reader

3,800 words | she/her, f!body | nsfw

summary: the timer finally resets (soulmate reincarnation)

a/n: @bekky06 !! i had so much fun with this request, bet you weren't expecting it to be in a two parter! and tagging @levistiddies because you asked for it!

masterlist | soulmate event

part 1

“Will someone shut him up already?”

Nami pats your shoulder with a sympathetic smile, “It’s better to just let them go on until they wear themselves out.”

A crash echoes from the living room as Ace tackles Luffy off the couch for the last chicken wing.

You look at Nami with complete and utter despair in your eyes, “How have you put up with this for so long?”

It had only been a few months since you moved in with Nami. Although sometimes it feels like you moved in with her entire friend group.

At any given moment there was at least two or three of her friends in the apartment. But they weren’t all bad. Sanji popping in to bring some new delicious food he had created. Zoro would swing by in the afternoons to nap on the couch and could sleep through just about anything. Robin and Franky would visit occasionally, the later fixing any broken appliance or upgrading them without asking. Usopp and Chopper coming around with new games and movies to lend. And then there was Luffy.

You loved Luffy. Truly, the boy’s energy and devotion weren’t something you could hate. But there was one part of him that drove you truly insane.

His brother.

“Someone talking about me?” Ace sits (read: crashes) into the chair beside you, “You gonna finish that?” He nods at your plate.

You push it towards him, “I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

The jab goes over Ace’s head who just happily takes a bite, “Don’t know how, Sanji’s cooking is the best!” He pauses before quickly adding, “Don’t tell Thatch I said that.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t worry, I don’t waste my free time talking about you.”

“Bet that doesn’t stop you from thinkin’ about me.” He waggles his eyebrows, leaning over your shoulder.

“Ugh!” You scoff, jumping from your chair just as Ace tips over in his and sprawls out on the ground, “Disgusting.” You mutter to yourself, pointedly ignoring Nami’s smirk.

Why she thought you had a thing for him was beyond you. Okay, so what if he has a nice bone structure, and what does it even matter if you definitely stole a second glance that time he had to change shirts when Luffy spilled a drink all over him. That doesn’t mean you like him.

He was way too energetic for your tastes, taking up so much space, like he was suffocating you with every smile he’d send your way.

Cleaning up a few plates and cups you head to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect your thoughts. Ace wasn’t too far off base with his comment. Not that he would ever find out about the thoughts that plagued your mind late at night.

“Vivi’s here!” Nami calls, quickly appearing in the kitchen entrance, “You good if I leave for the night?”

“You taking your idiots with you?”

“I can get them out of your hair for a price.” She sings.

“How about at the cost of keeping a roommate?” You shoot back.

Nami presses a friendly kiss to your cheek, “That’s a deal. You sure you don’t want me to leave one of ‘em behind?” She asks with a devious grin.

“Very sure.” You mutter, suddenly finding quite a bit of interest in the plate you’re scrubbing.

“Whatever you say.” Nami teases, heading back, “Alright dumb and dumber! Let’s go!”

You listen as Nami wrangles Luffy and Ace out of the apartment. With Nami heading to Vivi’s for the night, you’re sure you’ll have the apartment until morning. Not that you’ll take advantage of the privacy, probably just clean up a bit and turn on some trashy reality show until you pass out on the couch.

“Hello?” A very specific voice calls out, “(Y/N)! I think I left my phone here!”

You suppress a groan, hoping he’ll find it and get out, but it seems you’ve spoken too soon.

“You need help?”

“Thought you were looking for your phone.” You say, placing a bowl in the drying rack.

Ace slides up beside you, “Doesn’t mean I should leave you with all the cleanup.” He picks up a towel, “Can’t prove I’m boyfriend material if I can’t even dry a plate or two.”

“That’s what the drying rack is for.” You don’t meet his stare, not wanting him to see the flustered look on your face.

“C’mon.” Ace reaches for the plate in your hands, “It’ll go a lot quicker if you let me help.”

“It’s fine, Ace.” You snap, his arm too close to yours to keep your thoughts straight.

But he’s relentless, “I promise I won’t break ‘em!” He reaches as you try to twist away, holding the dish further away.

“Ace!” You try to elbow him, but he easily dodges it and uses the chance to grab for your wrist.

The moment his fingers brush against your skin it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. The sound of the ceramic shattering to the floor far in the distance as your eyes glaze over.

.

He had been right behind you. You swear he was right behind you. But there’s a coldness creeping up your spine and you know something is wrong. Twisting backwards, you watch your worst fear turn to reality.

“Ace!” The scream rips from your throat, “Ace, no!”

Your feet move on their own, tripping and stumbling over debris until you’re on your knees behind him. You can’t see his injury, if it wasn’t for the coldness overtaking your heart you might assume he’d be okay.

His mouth is moving, but the ringing in your ears make it impossible to hear what he’s saying. But then blood starts pouring from his mouth and his arms are going limp, putting more and more of his weight on Luffy.

“Ace.” Your voice croaks and his eyes flash to yours. In that moment it’s just the two of you.

“Thank you… for loving me.”

.

A gasp tears from your throat and you feel like your head is being split in two. But you’re back in your kitchen, the faucet running in the background. There’s a broken plate on the floor and Ace is starring at it for the longest time until he finally looks up and meets your wild stare.

“That wasn’t my fault.” He points at the shards on the ground.

Laughter bubbles in your throat because that’s all he can say? The ridiculousness of it nearly knocks you on your ass as you stumble backwards.

“Hey! Careful!” Ace’s grabs your forearms, “You’re gonna cut yourself!”

.

“You can’t keep coming to me with each little problem.” You chide him, carefully wrapping a bandage over the cut, “We have a doctor for a reason.”

“Marco said he was done with my ‘dumbass injuries’.” Ace uses finger quotes, “Plus he doesn’t kiss it better like you do.”

You chose not to comment on his flirtations, instead pulling maybe a little too tightly on the wrapping just to see him wince , “And how did you get this then?”

“Ehh.” Ace shrugs, “There may or may not be a broken cabinet in the kitchen.”

“Couldn’t figure out the combination?” You tease, referring to the locks that had been installed throughout most of the kitchen.

“Ridiculous how they’re trying to starve us.” Ace rants, “We should do something about it.”

You roll your eyes, tapping off the cloth, “Some of us know the code.” You say with a wink, reveling in the look of betrayal that crosses his face.

.

“Let go of me!” You shout, batting his hands and trying to pull away. “Just, just get away from me!”

“(Y/N).” He pleads, his hands still outstretched but giving you your space.

You can’t do this, can’t think straight as your eyes dart around in a panic. You need to get out of here, you need to get away from him. You could barely think straight around him to begin with but this, this, is just making everything worse.

Without another word you sprint to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, even locking it for good measure before collapsing against side of the tub.

What the fuck? What the fuck was that?

It felt so real. Those emotions, those scenes. Like you had lived them, not just some imagined daydream in your head.

Clambering up, you stand in front of the sink, splashing water onto your face before looking at yourself in the mirror. “Am I going crazy?” You ask yourself, noting the wideness of your eyes “Holy shit, I think I’m going crazy.”

“Hey.” Ace’s voice carries through the door, “You’re not going crazy.”

You’re silent, hoping he’ll go away, praying that he’ll leave you alone so you can just chalk it up to a lack of sleep or maybe something bad that you ate. Yeah, that’s what this is, can’t be anything else, impossible to be anything else.

“(Y/N)? Can we just talk about this?”

The calmness of his voice ticks you off a bit. Like you’re the irrational one for freaking out. You rip open the door, “And what is this?” You gesture between the two of you, “What the actual fuck is even going on?” Almost begging him to explain what neither of you understand.

“I’m not sure.” Ace answers cautiously, as if talking to a startled and wounded animal, “But maybe if we sit down for a minute.” His hand reaches out for yours, intending to take you to the couch and get you a glass of water.

.

“I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet, girlie.”

“What?” You laugh humorlessly, “Am I going to get a new timer or something?” You ask, not that you’d ever want one. Not if it wasn’t with Portgas D. Ace.

The old woman turns to look over the stretch of the island. It’s early in the morning and the sun is just starting to peek over the horizon.

“Just like the days, everything resets eventually.” And then she let’s out a loud cackle, and you’re starting to think she’s must be a little bat shit crazy.

“Keep thinking that shit about me and I won’t help ya.” She whacks you again with her stick, “Now c’mon!” She calls, already steps ahead of you, “We’ve got a lot of work to do!”

.

“Ace.” You whisper, coming back to the present but feeling as if you just lived a whole other life. Every bit and piece finally falling into place.

That woman. That witch. Was she a witch? You’d never know. What did she do to you? What did she do for you?

You can feel tears gathering in your eyes as you reach out to cup his cheek and he immediately nuzzles into your palm, glad to see you’ve calmed down a bit.

“Is it, is it really you? Is it really us?”

“I have no fucking clue.” He murmurs.

“How are you so calm?”

He shrugs, “Not the weirdest thing that’s happened to me.” You give him an unimpressed look, “I’m serious!” Ace protests with a smile, “Haven’t I ever told you about the time Sabo and I bribed a ghost to haunt Luffy?”

A watery laugh bubbles in your throat, “You’re so stupid sometimes.”

“Tell that to Sabo who fell for it.” Ace says smugly, “Easiest twenty bucks I ever made.” He pauses, “You’re okay, right?”

You nod tentatively, because no. You’re not okay, but you’re not not okay, “Sorry I freaked out.”

“Don’t be.” He squeezes your hand with a humorless “You probably had a lot more years of memories to sort through.” And shit was that the wrong thing to say, Ace mentality hits himself. Because then your face is crumpling, and you let out a gut-wrenching sob.

“Ah fuck.” Ace groans, pulling you to his chest, “C’mon. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

All he gets in response are hiccups and babbled whimpers. Collecting you in his arms, Ace brings you to the couch. He tries to settle you with intentions of grabbing a glass of water but your hand shoots out before he can go, dragging you down with him.

.

“When you going to give up this pointless chase?”

Ace throws a toothy grin at Izou, “Isn’t that what being a pirate’s all about?”

Marco scoffs, “Not when it’s this pathetic.”

Ace ignores his crew’s words in favor of watching you on the other end of the ship.

You’re not doing anything extraordinary, just helping rig the sails. But he’s never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

You’ve made your stance pretty damn clear, and he can live with that. Even if it’s only getting to hear your laugh one more time, Ace will die a happy man.

.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” You almost beg, curled against his chest as his fingers have been running comforting circles along your shoulder for the better part of an hour, “You’ve barely said anything beside talking me off this ledge.”

“I think I want to kiss you.” Ace answers with a straight face that almost immediately twists up when his words process, “I mean, shit. That isn’t what I meant.”

“Oh.” You’re a little stunned at his forwardness, but then again he never did have a filter, “So you don’t want a kiss?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“(Y/N).” Ace whispers, taking your hand, “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day I met you. Both times.”

Your lips wobble, as he looks at you with honest intensity. What you did to deserve to have a second chance at this you may never know.

“So kiss me.”

And you don’t have to tell him twice as Ace captures your lips, his tongue sliding against yours almost instantly. He leans over you, pressing you deeper into the couch.

Your arms circle his shoulders, holding him tight against you while he slots a thigh between your legs. He groans into your mouth when he feels you grind against his leg and it’s all happening so fast that he can barely think straight.

“Wait, wait.” Ace pulls back, and the look on your face is really testing his resolve, “Are you sure about this?”

“Ace.” Your voice is throaty and deep in a way he’s never heard before and will definitely never forget, “I’ve waited a lifetime for this.”

“Okay.” He nods, swallowing thickly, “Right, uhm. Me too.” His eyes dart around the living room, “Did you want to do this here, or?”

His awkwardness warms your heart, and it reminds you just why you loved this man in the first place. “C’mon.” You slap his ass, earning a squeak, “Follow me.”

And then it’s a race to your bedroom while Ace tries to grab you, but you’re more concerned with pulling off articles of clothing so that by the time you get to your bed, you’re dressed in nothing more than your bra and panties.

His kisses trail down your throat while his hands tug at the straps of your bra, uncoordinated hands trying to unclasp the back until you take over.

“Would be easier if I could just burn it off.” Ace grumbles but then going silent when he’s faced with your bare chest. “Fuck.” Ace breathes, his eyes dragging up and down your body before meeting your gaze again, “You’re beautiful.”

You squirm a bit. It felt less embarrassing when he was just starring at your tits.

“Hey.” He cups your cheek, “We don’t have to do this now. I’ve waited a lifetime too, I can wait a little longer.”

“No!” You cry abruptly, “I mean, I want this, I do. I just…” You trail off with a shrug.

He hums in response, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, “I know.” You whine when he pulls back but are rewarded when he tears off his own shirt, making quick work of his belt and shorts too.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, in this life and many times in the one before. But now it’s different when your fingers trace that faint birthmark he’s always had.

“Huh.” Ace looks down at your trembling fingers, “Guess that makes sense.”

But you don’t want to think about that right now. Running your hands further down, they toy at the hem of his briefs, one of your hands slipping in to grasp his hardening cock.

Ace grunts, his fingers tightening on your hip while your hand slowly works him over. “Shit.” He groans, thrusting back into your hand with each twist of your fingers until his hand grabs at your forearm, “That’s enough.” He almost growls and it make you feel powerful to know you almost worked him over with just a few light touches of your hand.

A feral grin stretches across your face when you meanly squeeze, and Ace is quick to escape your hold. Instead slithering down your body to give you a taste of your own medicine.

His lips leaving behind a scorching trail of kisses over your breasts and down your stomach until he mouthing at you through the wet and flimsy piece of fabric that separates his tongue from your cunt.

“Ace.” You whine, fingers twisting into his hair while your thighs try to lock around his head until he holds them down with his hands, “Stop teasing.” You almost sob, feeling his tongue prod at your clit.

He tuts, ignoring your cries in favor of building you up slowly, pulling the most sinful sounds from you with his soft touches while you buck you fruitlessly buck your hips against his face.

It isn’t until you forcefully rip his head away from your core does he understand just how bad you need him. With you heaving chest and darkened eyes.

“Oh shit.” He breathes, quickly climbing back up your body, with gentle hands, “You need me that badly, love?” Kissing your forehead when all you can do is give him a pitiful nod.

“Alright.” He says, finally stripping away the last layer that separates both of you, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” His hand wraps one of your legs around his waist, “I’ll make you feel good.”

“Please.” You nod, relief flooding you when you finally feel his cock at your entrance.

“Tell me you want it.” He groans into your ear, grinding his length through your wet folds, “Tell me you’ve always wanted this.”

“Always!” You babble, “I need you, please.”

He finally pushes in, feeling your tight heat clench around his cock. And you feel like you’re being perfectly split open, like a puzzle that finally fits together.

“So perfect.” He moans once he’s fully seated inside, “Like you were made for me.”

“I was.” You whisper, pulling his face up to look at you, “And you were made for me.”

Neither of you move for moment, just searching each other’s eyes. Still slightly doubting that this is really happening, that you’re both here and you’ve gotten it right this time.

Your mouth drops with a gasp when he thrusts slightly, pulling back and pushing in again just to see you make that face again.

And then you’re off. Both of you rolling your hips perfectly in sync with one another as you swallow up each other’s whimpers and moans. Your hands digging into his shoulders while his guide your hips until one of them sneaks between your flushed bodies to circle at the little nub of pleasure that has you seeing stars.

“Ah!” You squeak, “Ace, Ace.” Your voice chants, “I’m think, I think I’m gonna-”

“Do it.” He says, picking up speed with his thrusts and his fingers, “I’m right behind ya, just. Please, cum for me.”

With that final desperate plea from Ace you feel yourself tip over the edge, falling into an abyss of pleasure that Ace soon joins you in.

He always burned you in your last life. With touches and stolen glances and words. And it’s apparently no different this time around because you feel a warm fire flickering inside you when he fills you, coaxing out every heated drop of pleasure he can get and then still demanding more.

“I love you.” He groans into your ear, teeth sinking into your neck as he tappers out his final few thrusts, “I love you so fucking much.”

“Mhmm!” You cry as he collapses onto your chest, rolling you over with a groan so he’s not crushing you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck while he presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Ace. Always.”

Only the sound of harsh breathing fills the room, minutes passing like seconds while Ace’s fingers dragging up and down your back.

“Why didn’t we ever do that sooner?” You ask breathlessly, mumbled into his shoulder.

“You’re the one who told me to buzz off.” Ace grumbles, “Even Pops told me it was a little sad the way I trailed after you.”

You feel your stomach tighten, reminding you of the reason whyyou kept him at such a distance.

“Hey.” Ace whispers, a gentle hand cupping your cheek and guiding you to look at him, “I wouldn’t have changed anything about last time.”

“I would have changed everything.” You whisper, tightly gripping his hand, “I would have told you how much I loved you. I would have tried harder to stop you. I would-”

“Shh.” Ace presses a finger to your mouth, “You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I should have listened to you.” You start to shake your head, but Ace stops you, “Let’s not even think about it, let’s just use this life instead, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod softly, nuzzling against his palm. You feel your eyes drooping, the warmth of his hold and fullness of him still seated inside you lulling you to sleep.

Just as your eyes slide shut, a loud ring pierces through the silence.

“Fuck, shit, fuck.” Ace grumbles, trying to reach for his shorts on the edge of the bed with out jostling you too much. He finally grabs his phone and is able to turn it off, regaining the silence in the room. And he thinks he got away with it until-

“Thought you said you lost that here?” Your voice is smug while Ace tries to sputter some excuse, not knowing it was in his pocket, swearing he thought he left it on the couch, must have magically returned to him

You smile, tightening your arms around his neck. You hope your life will be filled with moments like this, stupid and pointless but worth every second until they run out.

[iwadori]

Haikyu Boys neglecting you for another girl PT 1 (Kenma)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 1.3K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You go over to your boyfriend ,Kenma’s, house every weekened to play on your shade survival minecraft world 

But one week you were too cramped to come over one week so you missed out on a gaming session 

At school the following week you heard Kuroo and the guys teasing Kenma over a new found gaming friend 

But you payed no attention

Now you’re done with your exams and ready to continue on w/ Kenma on fighting the enderdragon and building up your world

You get to Kenmas house an hour after finishing your school club, upon entering you hear him button smashing upstairs (per usual) but something not so usual was him giggling with laughter...

Kenma.Your stoic boyfriend Kenma. giggling..

Because of your confusion you slowly go up the stairs as his laughter ensues making you more perplexed ‘kenma barely talks to people that aren’t Kuroo and me, especially someone who makes him laugh this much’ you think to yourself.

“Ella, i’ve found the stronghold! Just follow me” Kenma exclaimed as you entered his bedroom “Yes Ella you have to press X to jump” he laughed again

‘Ella, who’s ella’ you think. You hear a response on the other end but you can make it out properly. Kenma and ‘Ella’ continue on speaking making plans on what they’re about to do next.. with Kenma not noticing you came into his room yet. You look at the TV and notice that Kenma is playing with someone else on YOUR world that you started which made you slightly agitated. 

You purposefully drop your bag a tad too aggressively, but that seems to work as you catch Kenmas attention as he turns to you for a split second as he mumbles quitely “Oh hey babe” before swiftly getting engrossed again into the game.

Annoyed, you sit on next to him on the bed waiting.. JUST WAITING for some proper acknowledgement to which you received none. You just sat there mindlessly scrolling through your phone as he continuously talked with Ella AND coached her through killing the ender dragon (a plan that you and Kenma said to do together since the beginning of your minecraft survival world idea)

After almost an hour of just sitting there idly, you decide to get up pick up your bag and leave. Hoping just hoping that your ‘oh-so great and caring’ boyfriend would take off his headset and stop you from leaving. But this isn’t a movie of course... so no Kenma did not run straight after you pull you into his arms and comfort you. He stayed in his room laughing away with Ella putting you at the back of his mind.

You go straight home and cry still wishing for a follow-up text on the incident that happened at Kenmas but no response there.

Luckily for you, it was half term break meaning there was no school for a couple weeks so you didn’t have to face the awkward confrontation or lack thereof with Kenma at school. But it was unlucky for you since usually every half term and weekend you’d spend at Kenmas but obviously now you can’t.

You do wonder if he’s thought about texting or calling you to reconcile or even just thought about you at all. You desperately wanted to reach out to him, but with your relationship you do feel that you’re the one that always has to start the conversation after you’ve had a ‘falling out.’ So all you do is wait ( assuming that you’ve broke up or something for now.)

The two weeks of break has ended and now you’re back at school waiting to face the music. The whole day, you felt anxious waiting to bump into him in the corridor or see him at lunch but you never did.

Later that day you get a message..

Kuroo: Hey y/n! How have you been ??

Y/N: Fine.. i guess

Kuroo: How are things with Kenma

Y/N: Tbh I don’t really know, we haven’t spoken since the weekend...two weeks ago I don’t think we’re together anymore..

Kuroo: Y/N don’t say that you and Kenma are definitley how do you spell deathfinetly? still together just meet him today at the arcade at 8pm and ALL WILL BE REVEALED 

Y/N: okay....

Kuroo: DW Y/N! It’ll all be fine

Nervous, you get changed (making sure to look extra cute because this may be the last time you’ll have the title of ‘Kenma’s Girlfriend’ :(( ) You arrive at the arcade and look around for a second before spotting Kenma at the race car game (where you had your first date) and it looks to you he is hiding something behind his back..

When you reached him he looked very shy (even more so then usual) and you were about to speak before he shouted

“Y/N!” he said cringing at the volume of his own voice “ I need to tell you something, more like show you..”

You stood before him with your arms crossed silently tapping your foot waiting on him to continue. Surprisingly, he brings in front of you a little girl who looked about 8 or 9 with a very very cute face.

“n-n-nice to meet you” she bowed in front of you a blush covering her face

“Y/N this is Ella” Kenma said “My new step-sister”

You were shocked to say the least Kenma having a new sister that was great but didn’t answer ALL your questions. Judging your facial expressions Kenma led you and him to sit down letting Ella go on play (as you obviously watch her close-by) 

“Okay, I know you’re probably confused but Ella is ma’s new boyfriends daughter and that time you came over my house was my first time ‘meeting’ her so instead of doing it physically I thought the best thing to do was to play minecraft with her and as I was so focused on that I kinda sorta forgot about our usual dates and over half term I went over to hyogo were Ella and her dad live for the break to meet them officially I’m sorry very very very sorry Y/N for not contacting you i just assumed you were mad at me ... which you still probably are now so i understand if you want to break up and i-” Kenma stops hearing you slightly chuckle looking exasperated after all that rambling. 

Thats the most you’ve ever heard Kenma speak in one go ever and you thought it was endearing that he has a new sister. Of course you were mad that your boyfriend that he neglected you for weeks but you were definitley over that and wanted to just continue on with your life with him.

Kenma stared at you expecting some form of response and all you did was stand up, go to him and pat his head. 

“You’re so cute kenma” you said “Of course I was mad, but i get it now”

“So are we still boyfr-”

“Miss Y/N” asked Ella looking up at you awww how cute “Are you and nii-chan boyfrined and girlfriend”

Kenma and Ella both stared at you expectedly waiting on your response (Kenma more than Ella)

“Of course he’s my boyfriend sweetie!” You said ruffling her head and you hear Kenma sigh in relief “Let’s go play some games now come one Kenma”

You hold Kenma’s hand as Ella runs ahead of you

“Also Kenma..” you let go of his hand “You let her play on our world..seriously”

Kenma awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and chuckles

“I’ll make it up to Y/N dont worry “ he said

And he did do that indeed, as it seems over the break he built a mansion for you and him and reset the end so you complete the ender dragon with him. But you did also include Ella in on your world now and you and her got closer to the point where she will call you nee-chan.

Authors Note: how do you feel about the ending ?

I hope this is well, I’m not that used with Kenmas character so i hope i wrote it good and you like it! Please give me comments and feedback and my request are open so send in your request please!! Also this was meant to be a part two to my ‘taking a prank too far’ but i kinda wrote this in a different direction 

[animefreak1145]

For Whom the Bell Tolls(Adler x Bell!Reader)

Previous Next

Chapter 3| How Little We Know of What There is To Know

Chapter Summary:

Pretending and being numb is the key.

Yet Adler always manages to bring some emotion out of you.

Cold War Reset AU| Undertale Reset AU

Warnings: Torture, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Possible Non-Con/Dub-Con, Trauma

A/N: Where pineapple is the nectar of the gods and scars are lightning.

“Bell”

Second Life

23:09 | February 25, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN”

You rubbed your dry eyes as you stared at your notes all over the desk you’ve chosen as your little corner, the large bulky computer taking up space but you’ve made do by moving the brick that is the keyboard as much as you could off to the side. Your papers held inks of different colors—although they were only red, blue, and black and yellow highlights—and you had a stack of folders behind the computer that were from the CIA and MI6 archives. You had Kraus’ ledger off to your side, headphones on top of it for you to hear the audio of U.S. cities and numbers. Your fourth mug of coffee of the day was already gone and you would grab another just to enjoy the warm liquid to go down your throat instead of the caffeine itself, you were always one of late night’s either way.

The safehouse was quiet outside the hum of the generator and the lights above. Most of the crew gone. Outside of your absent tapping of a pen against your messy notes and the white of a nearby fan for extra circulation, the main open area of the safehouse was a desert.

If you focused deeply, you can hear mumbles and murmurs that you can’t make out coming from the office. Adler has been in there for awhile talking over the phone. To who, you don’t know but you have your suspicions. You just hope the subject is not about you being suspicious—the talk on the roof was a slight on your part earlier.

You truly don’t know what came over you. But you need to watch your mouth and expressions. Adler is perceptive, deadly and ever watchful of a person’s micro expressions and body language.

You can’t mess up.

A shot rings. And a heart splinters.

“It was never personal.”

You really can’t.

Which is why, you have been focused solely on decoding the entire day. Your eyes scanning and assessing the acquired Intel from the Volkov mission for Operation Chaos and Operation Red Circus. You have the knowledge on how to solve them but you are lacking needed Intel to help finish Operation Red Circus.

Operation Chaos was tricky. With two pieces of evidence outside of the newspaper, it being the audio log and the paper that had the coded message. Earlier in the morning, you wrote down all the possible numbers the missing parts of the code be—trying to find the pattern in the set of red and blue numbers. You were writing down the possibilities, your paper looking chaotic with arrows and numbers and cities that could coincide with said numbers.

After the quick checkup of your head with Adler, all firm and gentle touches with you keeping your eyes to the side or down as he fulfilled why he got the alias Doc—treatments of gun wounds and cuts to bayonets, complete trust he’ll take care of you as he would lecture or tighten a bandage a tad too tight in reprimand due to a reckless action—and kept quiet as he did so outside of a soft yes or no when he asked  about the pain, you moved to go to work. Ignoring the feel of his gaze on you as you did so. Park coming to your desk after you moved your stuff from the center table to your chosen corner to begin, papers already everywhere and scattered as you tried to organize it in a manner you could only understand, a mug close to her mouth and a cocked brow at the mess.

“There’s a way to keep it a bit more clean and less like a junk pile,” the British woman said, amused as you made a distracted sound, squinting at the coded language in your hand as papers rustled. “And when I gave you my advice, I didn’t think you would take it so seriously. There’s a better desk you could’ve chosen as your own, Bell.”

You blinked, giving Park a confused look.

“Advice?”

Park making an obvious glance to the center table in front of the evidence board, you automatically following it. Only to turn back to your paper once you noticed Adler’s form by the table, cigarette in his hand as he stared down at his own files.

"From one woman to another, give him a wide berth."

“. . . I just needed some space to focus. I’m sure Adler wouldn’t like all my papers everywhere around him either way.” You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your head and your hand. You wanted to erase it. “But I don’t mind staying close just in case. Easier to hand things to you or him whenever I’m done.”

“Someone sounds confident,” Park commented with a sip of her coffee, making your own lips twitch for a moment as you replied that you are the best as you moved some papers around. Than, in a quiet murmur with a quick dart back to Adler’s direction, “Distractions are best to be avoided. . .”

“What was that?” You asked, placing everything in a pile as well trying to keep some of them up by leaning the papers on the computer screen and failing as they slid down. You heard Park release an exasperated humored huff through her nose just as you heard her step away only for you to have a black leather gloved hand in your face with sticky notes. “What is. . .”

“Oh come now. I am sure it’d be easier if you used these. Make sense of this chaos. I guess there is some fact of what people say about geniuses and their rooms,” she motioned the sticky note pad again as you stared at it. The papers were yellow but new. Unused, outside of a crinkle at an edge.

“Where am I?”

“Who am I?”

“What is happening?”

“Why can’t you remember?”

“D o  y o u  h e a r  i t ? ”

“Who is Perseus?”

“Tell me who I am!”

Blood forms the words, as if with a finger.

“They want to kill you.”

“Make it stop.”

“MK”

Words pressed on the page, over and over and over with harsh penmanship and you don’t understand what’s happening. What is this room? And that man. . .  Why does it hurt? Is this helping Russell?

Pain

           Pain          Pain              боль

                    боль

   Pain                                         Pain

              боль

Pain        Pain                   Pain

          Pain         Pain    Pain                

боль                                                              боль

It hurts.

GlockeGlockeGlockeG̷̟̩͙̏͌ḽ̸̊̿o̵̦̓͝c̵̭̯̊́ḱ̷̛̼͌͊e—

You turned away back to your papers, jaw tight.

“I’m good. Sticky notes can be a pain. Thank you, Park.” Park lowered her hand, giving you a questioning stare in the back of your head. You sighed, turning your head over your lowered shoulders. “I’m going to try to finish this today but I think I’m missing a few pieces of Intel. You can give me other things to decode for MI6 in the meanwhile.”

Park frowned delicately, lowering her mug.

“That sounds like a hefty workload. And I believe it would be best if we put all our focus into Perseus for now.”

No. You have to be useful.

“It’ll be fine,” you say, searching for a paper and giving it to her while Park grabbed it. “I solved that part of the code already. The other intel we got from Kraus, I’m going to need more information in order to figure out who exactly can be Strong Man, Bearded Lady, and the Juggler. I can’t go forward with that so might as well help with other codes you guys may have trouble with. What did you imply?” You ask with faux curiosity, your lips twitching up before falling as you wrote something down. “That I’m a genius?”

“Smartarse.” Park retorted, although she seemed to still hesitate but eventually she gave you three files where they seemed to be having trouble. You getting to work immediately to help as Park walked away and you hearing later on Park and Adler head to the office.

You did your best to not think too much of it. You have to keep at your work and make sure you’re capable and on task. You rather not get jabbed.

“We got a job to do.”

And although it might be inevitable, you would rather not have those words said to you as well. Even if it didn’t seem to have the same affect as before, the feeling and how your thoughts seemed to blur came back. Being aware you moved like a puppet and were one all along is not what you would like to focus on.

After you finished two of MI6’s files—had to do with KGB and how interesting they would use some quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 1984 hidden in the code as if the man was in support of communism with the work—with a hum mixed with impressed and curiosity from Park as she looked at the solved papers, your nose twitched at the scent of smoke and leather as you worked on the last MI6 folder.

“Stealing away my protege, Park?” Your hand around the pen paused before continuing, a plume of grey gathering above you. “And here I thought we have an equal partnership when it comes to this whole Perseus business. At least tell me you’re not wasting her time?”

“I wouldn’t call it stealing if she’s willing,” Park easily replied before handing him the two files to look over that you did, Adler scanning through it as she continued. “And it still has to do with our red friends. You sure are quick with the ball, Bell.”

“It’s nothing,” you say quietly, “Can’t exactly go forward so might as well help you with other codes that others can’t solve. Just send anymore my way. You too, sir.”

Adler made a distant hum, closing the files and handing it back to Park. You felt his stare at the back of your neck as you stared at the paper in front of you that might as well be nonsense since you sensed him.

Look at him, pup.

“If you wanted a more exciting challenge Bell, you could’ve asked. Always the type to leave no stone unturned and show off.”

“‘More exciting challenge’?” Park repeated, “Think MI6 codes are all flowers and rainbows compared to those in the CIA, Adler? I believe I recall that it was only Bell that could be able to solve the dossier instead of anyone else within your organization.”

Yeah, cause you brainwashed me, you thought bitterly but the two kept going as you could only sit in between. Nice to have to be a witness between these two again.

“Bell is the best CIA decoder we have,” you tightened your jaw in surprise instead of to tense when his hand landed on your shoulder, a gentle squeeze—in comfort, in belief, in trust, in camaraderie, in everything but what you wanted and what you needed, in order to control— as you lowered the paper in your hand. “As well as having a wide range of other skills. You think I would just call in any brain dead desk sitter for this operation?”

You could see in your mind’s eye how dizzy you would get before due to all this praise. Now, you just do your best to press your lips as your chest tightened.

You felt Park shift behind you, her looking at you in appraisal.

“You are one of a kind, Bell. Shame you were born in the wrong country. Having to have Adler here as your superior.”

You huffed through your nose in dry amusement at that. Irony not lost on you.

What a curse indeed.

You turned in your chair finally, lips quirked that didn’t quite meet your eyes as you pointed your thumb towards Adler.

“You should’ve seen him in ‘Nam if you think he’s bad now. Always with the lectures.”

You felt Adler release you, watching as he took an inhale as he did a small shrug in disinterest.

“You can be stubborn, Bell. If I couldn’t beat it out of you, I’ll talk it out of you.” You looked up and you could sense his eyes looking down at you behind those shades. “Although I feel like sometimes I’m wasting my breath. Your recklessness borders on insanity.”

“I think I can see why they put the both of you together than,” Park said, brow arched towards Adler and a certain look in her eyes towards him you couldn’t quite read. It looked like a warning. But what could that look be for? “Insanity breeds insanity as they say.”

They left you after that, you waving off Adler asking if you need a break. He took that as the okay to bring you CIA files for you to decode. Seems he has no trouble using you dry if you’re going to insist on it. Despite that, you took them and you were able to solve three.

Park came back towards your desk and saying you could have a break, again, you waved her off. As well as her concern you wouldn’t want to read into—is it real for you and your body, or is some sort of guilt that perhaps they gave you a strong dose for the memory exercise and you’re running on steam, is it fake or real, don’t break the puppet- so you didn’t. You telling Lazar the food you wish and him dropping it by your desk with his own comment that your brain might fall out and you saying you’ll be fine, even threw in a small joke that with his food your brain will be well nourished. Outside of your favorite brand of pumpkin seeds of course. Sims only made a stray comment about the stacks on your desk, getting tall as the day went on and turned to night. You don’t recall if you said something back. You probably did, Sims was always distant—you have trauma that’s not even real and have the gall to have some nightmares about it when he actually went through that horrible war and sees a therapist for it, you don’t know the war—so you would take what you would get.

Everyone eventually shuffled out, Park—her brows looking creased and a purse to her lips—back to the side of your desk before she left and saying you should rest and leave the rest tomorrow.

“I’ll finish the rest today,” you replied, resolute and determined as you wrote the next possible code from this possible radio station an ally of Perseus may be using. “No rest for the wicked. As they say,” you threw out additionally, an echo of her words earlier which made Park raise her brows. “It’s fine. Once I start something, I have to see it through. It helps I can be patient when it counts—at least with this.”

“You seem to take it literally. You’ve been at it since early this morning. You only moved I believe when Lazar brought your food and to use the washroom.” Once you shrugged and said that seems normal to do and you’re fine with that, you heard Park’s tone grow stronger in reprimand. “Yes, you’re fine. Tell me, is Adler stopping you from taking breaks?”

You stopped, looking at Park and her irritated expression.

“No. . . No, it’s just me.” So none of you stick me with that dreadful drug and dig around my brain. So I can show all of you I don’t need it—that you don’t need to do that. That I’m useful and more than an asset. Unneeded assets get thrown away. “I just—just don’t want to disappoint.”

"Disappoint? You've exceeded expectations at every turn, Bell. Disappoint who?"

You didn’t answer, only turned back around and continued with your pen. You heard Park mutter a curse before walking out, giving you a pat to your back and tell you you’re driving back with Adler than since he’s determined to work as well before leaving. Your eyes round down to your desk.

You’ll be alone together with him again.

You took a shaky breath, focusing on the paper in front of you.

You’ll be fine. Just keep what you’ve been doing. Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend his concern—the touch on your shoulders burned as he shook you, as if to erase your dark thoughts out of you, lifting you up with his hand easily with words of a concerned reliable friend commanding officer—is real. And his kindness—why did they save you, you’re useless, what use is an untrained dog—is real too.

Just don’t question it. You’ll go mad.

Mind your tongue as well—control yourself. You used to tease before with faux confidence when the both of you bantered, but you have to watch your spiteful and petty comments. You really don’t want him to give you a dose.

But if you feel like the path is leading you there, you have a way to get at least a semblance of control back.

Puppets don’t control the puppeteer.

“Bell.” You turned in attention, Adler by the center table as he motioned his head towards the garage door, cigarette in hand. “Time to go.”

You nodded once, getting up after fixing up your desk a bit. Grabbing your beanie turned ski mask and placing it back on your head instead of your face and walked over obediently as the both of you walked out through the side door.

Good dogs come when they listen.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯  ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Come on, you know I hate fruit cake! Just give me your pears, Singer!”

“Sorry, Bell,” Singer grinned, taking a big purposeful spoonful of pears from the can, teeth flashing. “Guess you have to deal with all of that yourself. Too bad you don’t have a connection to those who pass the MCI’s, huh?”

You quietly glared at him with no heat, the act almost making Singer choke on his precious pears that he could’ve given you. The choking action making him spit out some and towards you, you making a noise of disgust as you punched the laughing man harshly to his shoulder as vengeance. It made him wince as the others around the campsite laughed at the two of you—the sun still above and the Vietnam jungle loud with birds and the trees moving against the wind. Although not really a campsite you would say since there no fire. Can’t have any eyes on them to go towards smoke.

‘They know these jungles better than us’ as Adler says.

Speaking of Adler, you turned towards him where he leaned against a thick great Banyan tree local to this country—the trunk thick just like the branches that spiral even to the floor. They were all actually hidden in the alcove of this tree, the space enough for them until they kept going to their destination. A beautiful yet haunting tree with its dark and smooth bark all around. You overheard once by Lee and other South Vietnam soldiers in base that these trees can have spirits inside. Dangerous they said for some of them. You don’t think these ‘spirits’ ever met Adler.

You could see Adler’s lips were up in amusement due to your predicament despite his war paint, raising his brow over his black shades when he noticed your gaze.

Before you even fully lifted your hand with the can of horrendous fruit cake, he shook his head at you, lips going even more into a smile.

“Don’t even try, kid. I fucking hate fruit cake myself,” he adjusted himself against the tree and the gun in his lap. The food of his MCI basically gone outside the crackers and canned pineapple. “Disgusting things. I don’t know who’s bright idea was it to have hard pieces of fruit and dry raisins in cake.”

That’s what you’re saying!

“Please, Adler. I gave you my cigs already, at least give me some of your pineapple?”

Sims laughed beside you, nudging your shoulder with his and shaking his head in disbelief.

“You think Doc is gonna give you some of his golden nectar away? Might as well have asked him to give his cigs along with his lighter.”

“Not happening, Bell.” Adler answered casually, finishing up his crackers and swiping his hands against his pants before moving to the can. “Besides, not like you smoke anyways. The cigs would just sit there pretty in the box if you don’t hand it to me. Unless you want to try to smoke again. It went well last time.”

“Didn’t she choke?” Singer teased around a mocking grin. It made his youthful face boyish and eyes bright. “Almost hacked out a lung didn’t you?”

Larson, who was quiet between Singer and Adler, spoke up. Already finished with his food since he’s been mostly keeping to himself. This is the first official mission he’s had since he got the news. Poor guy.

“I remember that,” Larson said softly, looking towards you and you just took all their teases. You blame Adler. “It was after the drinking game between Butcher and Hamilton. You wanted to see the big deal about why everyone liked the nicotine.”

“Only for Doc to come to the rescue after Bell took one of his cigs,” Sims ended with a shit eating grin. You’ll kill him. “Surprised you’re still here and alive. Not from just avoiding choking on nothing either, but that you took a cig from him.”

“You guys bet that I couldn’t. . .” You muttered with narrowed eyes towards Sims who shushed you.

“What was that?” Adler asked, cocking his head only for Sims and Singer to shake their heads animatedly. Adler hummed doubtfully but dropped it.

“Never mind that! Just—“ You groaned, putting your head on your hands as you still held the can of fruit cake. “You think I can eat this shitty cake? The ‘raisins’,” you said the word doubtfully, “could be actual pieces of shit for all I know. It could explain the taste. And how hard it can be.”

Singer and Sims snorted next to you, on both sides while Larson actually cracked a grin as you raised your head and told them strongly to think about it! Adler shook his head, watching the jungle periodically in the open spaces of the alcove which all of you did to be cautious but the fruit cake debacle must be solved.

You turned your eyes towards Sims, spotting his fruit cocktail. Only for his hand to block it.

“Nope.”

“Come on!” Sims shook his head, opening the can and eating the fruit cocktail and you scowled. “All of you are shitheads. Now I’m gonna have to eat this.”

“Damn straight you do,” Adler reaffirmed, stern yet you could spot he found your curse to all of them, him included, funny based on his arched brows. “No wasting MCI’s. You know the drill, Bell.”

You grunted unhappily at Adler, but you knew he was right. Which is why you wanted to trade in the first place. Food shouldn’t be wasted, no matter how heinous.

You took a spoonful after managing to cut into the hard cake, Sims laughing in your face and you could spot Larson keeping his smile at your disgruntled expression only for it to deepen when you took a bite.

You tried to distract yourself through bites by asking Adler how far away they were from their destination. Adler answering after they reach the next nearest foxhole which is two hours away, it will be another six till they reach where they need to be.

“Hue is a mess right now. With us additional reinforcements, we’re going to aim for stealth and go around and take out as much as we can.” Adler explained as they all attentively listened. They can’t mess up. “We’ve been able to give them a lot of damage last I heard, with one final push of us taking out some of them when they’re scrambling—we’ll consider the Battle of Hue a win. Of course, if there’s more than we can handle, we’ll stick to recon and head back around to tell command at the Hue MACV compound we have there.”

“And the civvies?” Larson asked.

“Don’t shoot ‘em.” Was all Adler said before they all moved to clean up and move on after you and Sims finished up.

You having to force to swallow and chew the cake and packing up the trash. They can’t leave anything else it can be used to track or find them.

Larson, Sims, and Singer were outside the alcove—waiting for you to finish as you smacked your lips as if that could take away the taste in your mouth as you grumbled. You moved to go out where Adler was as he stood by the opening to head out. You spotted something on the ground where he previously sat.

“You left something, sir,” you say, growing near to pick up the can. Huh, it’s not empty.

Adler turned his head over his shoulder, expression questioning.

“Whatcha mean, kid? That’s yours isn’t it?” You frowned, looking down at the can only for your eyes to widen. There was some pieces of pineapple left, a little less than half of the can gone but it’s something. He turned his head back as he muttered. “Don’t expect this to happen again. Not here to spoil you, Bell.”

“Don’t expect you to, sir.”

“Just pick up the trash and move it, kid.”

You grinned, knocking back the can and easily and quickly eating it. The juices spilling down your chin and neck but you didn’t care as you licked your lips. The taste of disgusting shit cake gone.

You packed the can quickly, swiping your chin with the back of your hand as the both of you walked to where the others were.

“Thanks,” you said to him softly.

“For telling you to pick up your trash?” Adler answered easily and you smiled knowingly but let it go.

Such a hard ass.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

The car ride was silent, passing street lights and empty cafe’s whizzing by and enlightening the car for a mere moment before it would be enveloped in darkness once more until the next light comes. You were staring out the window as they passed the streets of Berlin, the sounds of the wiper periodically occurring due to the light rain occurring. Not many people out at this time of night, nearing midnight unless you were a working girl or at the local bar. Some wisps of smoke remained in the car despite Adler on his side having his window slightly open. Your eyes watching as it moved lazily and glancing towards the quiet, relaxed man next to you before you would turn to look back out. Curious to see more of the city besides in the backstreets and being stealthy.

You didn’t see much last night after Volkov, you falling asleep in the car as Park drove you. You were too out of it when they arrived at the hotel, just absentmindedly listening and nodding along to Park’s directions and promptly knocking out once you reached your room on the bed. Only to awake once more at the alarm you or someone else must’ve set early in the morning.

You were focusing on that instead of the last time you were in the car with Adler.

“You’ll like where we’re going. Trust me.”

You took a sneaky glance towards the man once more, just as the man exhaled out a cloud of smoke that you watched. Enraptured in how it moved to and fro lithely, easily as your nose took in the smell before you glanced back at Adler, the side facing you being his ‘good’ side.

You wonder once more of his scar that accentuated this man’s beauty—all harsh lines that created a map that even now you wish to trace. For someone like this to earn the title America’s Monster, all styled wheat hair, suede shades, and an easy, wry tone—it should at least match the title.

Than again, you thought with faltering wax wings and of another—the fall of a devil with none. It was never about his looks was it?

“It’s a small price to pay.”

What does that make you?

“Alright, kid,” he says, taking out of your stupor as you stared fully at the man now. Smoke releasing out his mouth as he spoke, making you lower your gaze to it. “I’ll bite. What do you want to ask me? Must be a juicy question since you keep burning holes to the side of my face.”

Embarrassment colored your face, caught, as you quickly adjusted your gaze to straight ahead and instead watching raindrops going down the windshield.

“It’s nothing.”

“Mmm. For some reason, I can’t believe that. What did I say before?”

You said a lot of things before, you thought with a sad frown. But you knew what he was referring to. Always wants to be the one you tell all your worries and concerns to. Before, you thought it was genuine. Now, you just see it as how it was—a cloak to observe and make sure if your true real memories came or if they needed to give you a dose.

“Your scar,” you began as he tilted his head towards you, hair moving as he did so as he kept his one hand casually to the wheel while the other was leaning against his door. You didn’t get distracted by it. “How’d you get it? There’s a story there.”

“Scar?” He asked in false confusion, still stoic outside of a cocked brow and making your lips twitch up despite yourself. Before motioning with his cigarette hand towards his face. “You mean this? Is it noticeable?” At your unamused huff though your nose, he continued. “Back in ‘73, I was nearly killed by a tiger while on a mission in Malaysia. But human ingenuity still runs the animal kingdom.” He turned his head towards you when they reached a light, his brows rising above his glasses. “You ever been attacked by a tiger, Bell?”

You stared at him in disbelief before releasing a surprised snort. The nerve of this man.

“You’re lying. That’s not from a tiger, it would be worse than that. You and your need to tell stories. . .” You mumbled the last part, you don’t think he heard that.

“Didn’t know you were an expert on tigers, Bell. Got a degree in zoology under your belt that I don’t know about? What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Because—“ That’s not what you said last time. You stopped, a realization going through you. Because of course he’ll lie to you about this too. Worse kind of crowd, your ass. “If you got that from a tiger than I must be a distant cousin of Joseph Stalin.”

“That unbelievable, huh?” He said more than asked, amused at your sarcasm as you looked at him with crossed arms as the car moved once more. “Fine. I’ll give. I jumped on a roof in Calcutta back in ‘75 while chasing a Soviet agent. The jump was successful . . . the landing not so much. Advice: always know where the utility poles are.” At your deadpanned look when he glanced at you, his lips quirked into a humored smirk. “That one didn’t hit the mark for you either? Was it the jump?”

You shook your head, a small groan leaving your lips as you leaned your head against the dashboard.

“Anybody who’s anybody can jump from roof to roof,” you replied, staring at your leather boots—forehead pressed against the dashboard and maintains it there even as they turned or there was a bump. “You know that. Just like you know a utility pole would’ve either choked you or electrocuted you. At least with electrocution it’d be more scars throughout instead of that part of your face.”

“Watch the cockiness, kid.” He reprimanded but than, “You’re right though. Roof jumps the standard when it comes to our work. But you’re really confident that I don’t have any other scars throughout the rest of me. Know something I don’t?” Your eyes darted towards him, wide and as they passed a street light, you noticed he was peering down at you in turn. Your skin burned as you looked away and mumbled no while staring at your very interesting shoes. The man hummed. “How about this. You know what they say about kids falling in with a bad crowd? Let’s just say I fell in with the worst part of a bad crowd. The girl wasn’t worth it, believe me.”

At your silence, he glanced at you.

“What? That’s the one you believe?” You gave a small shrug. When he first told you that, you didn’t ask any more questions. It sounded personal the way he said it. Truthful. Adler always lies. “What makes this one believable? The lack of a specific date or are you a sucker for romance, Bell?”

You threw him a meaningful look up at him. Not feeling the need to say anything. At his arched brow though, you opened your mouth.

“Your ex-wife.”  His brow flattened at that. Something shifting in the air. “Was she worth it?”

A beat. A passing of street lights. The pitter patter of rain against the car.

“A romantic than. . .Never saw you as the type.” At your probing stare and his silence, you turned away. Seeing he won’t answer—too private. You’re a fool to even think he will say the truth at all. “Once.” You blinked, turning your eyes back up and lifting your head in attention as America’s Monster—a secret, a peek through the shades, a hint of something real besides the cold, black abyss, what are you Russell Adler—spoke ever so softly. A sardonic turn of chapped lips. “You can say we had a difference of opinion. Not much to it.”

There was more but you will take what you can get.

You thought of the memories you had, of friends you once believed were your own. Of little moments in beaches and camps and villages when all was calm and not chaotic with smell of burnt bodies or blood or how it feels to stab a bayonet through someone’s chest in defense. You could see them as clearly as any other memory you had. And feel it.

You thought of the poor soldier leaving a war only to get into another one in his home country.

“Larson. . .” you murmured, Adler hearing as he released a dry chuckle.

“Sort of like Larson. The poor bastard.” You watched him take a deep inhale, the cigarette almost a near stub. And you realize when that happens, he’s stressed. As stressed as a man like him could be. You’ve seen him in many moments in Vietnam. Not always the best. You wonder if that was another reason for your death. Adler exhaled a puff before having to throw the cigarette out the window with a flick, putting the window all the way up. “I don’t see why you’re so interested either way. Scars aren’t that impressive. Unless you always had a habit about asking for one’s ugly mug.”

You darted up at his eyes, shaded as they were, trying to sense if he was being serious.

Because he couldn’t be.

Not this man, with strikes of lightning upon his face as if Zeus did it himself. All power. Grace. Strength. Different from your barely functioning wax wings as you struggle to fly. Only able to watch and hope a falling demon crashes to its death—all harsh and slow.

What are you, Russell Adler?

Perhaps he is Zeus himself.

Perhaps how Adler got his scar was harsh retribution to control lightning, his scars even mimic those powerful strikes across his face. All strength. And all beauty. Those who survived struck by lightning always have the most beautiful marks upon their skin indicating their survival—you are selfishly bias though. Even now, you admit with self-loathing. The rougher marks on his face is all grace and you could wonder how he truly got it instead of fantasizing him as a God Of Lightning who mistook his own power upon his face.

It would only make sense. Both beautiful men, although you’ve never met the Greek God.

They both also have a habit of hurting women.

He’s all of that, while you could only hope with your squeaky levers and ropes and feathered wax can go up to said Mount Olympus where he was. A naïveté where you think you’re close with tired and sore arms only to be burnt away. A free fall down to the abyss.

Good pups stay in their place.

“You’re joking.” You accuse seriously as you stared up at him, your head against the dashboard but tilted slightly in his direction.

Adler tilted his head down slightly to stare down at you, a brow arched at your look.

“About?”

You didn’t say anything.

Just meaningfully looked up at him through your lashes, staring at his jaw that was strong as if Michaelengelo carefully carved it himself with minute details with his trusted mallet and chisel until dawn with a candle on his head due to determined ingenuity. Observing how the collar of his shirt did not do a good job in hiding his neck, his favorite jacket failing in that too so you could take it in. Not one strand was mussed or out of place on his head, all volume and thickness as your gloved hand twitched by your knee.

You than met the shades, in turn meeting his eyes as your heart seemed to pound as he stared down at you back. A look passing through his eyes too quick for you to catch, besides what you saw in your peripherals. The hand on the wheel tightening an iota as the air shifted to something heavier, blood pumping as your mind thought of reasons as to why which you pushed away. Impossible.

You licked your dry lips nervously, Adler’s expression seeming to tense when his eyes followed the action. You turned away, looking back down except to play with the ends of your gloves, neck hot and spreading.

You still felt his stare before he focused back onto the road.

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride.

Foolish dog should mind their eyes.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You couldn’t sleep much when you reached your room, another floor to Adler’s and near Park’s, and not just due to how you were more one with the night.

You opened Pandora’s Box—something forbidden coming out into the world as you thought back to the meaningful stare between you and Adler in the car. That even the thought makes your heart pound once more. Your brain further muddling and melting away the more you spend time alone with that man. Whether in being caught in his pace or just the mere thought of what he’s done.

Although, you suppose you already opened a Pandora’s Box. Possibly even darker than the one you discovered.

If the monster in man’s skin was Zeus—he created the box in the first place. Except he wished to hide it from you and keep you willfully ignorant instead of tease you to release envy and greed and disease out in the world. You managed to open it—and it was none of those things, it was cruel and inhumane to you all the same.

Take this needle and follow the story, do the trick.

If only that box stayed close.

Zeus always did like to confuse.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ◁ ◁ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You let out a heavy sigh, hand mussing your hair harshly as you chewed your lips, staring at the paper on the center table of the safehouse.

“Having trouble?”

You slightly jumped as Adler, who was quiet in the seat across and to the side of you, spoke. Looking mildly curious at all the papers on your side of the table before taking a small puff. You sighed, looking back down at the paper in slight frustration.

“Just a little. Whoever made this code created a difficult to encrypt language. I have some of the numbers though already, it’s just the rest. I’ve never seen such an elaborate one before. . .” You said in thought as you tapped your pen against the paper. “I have to say, it’s impressive.”

Adler hummed idly, taking note of your words.

“Perhaps you need a sort of incentive.”

You moved your eyes up in confusion, wondering what that could mean. Only to stop once you noticed what was in his opposite hand not holding his precious cigarette.

It was a picture—a polaroid specifically. But not just any one. You stared at your oldest friend in the picture, taken on the rooftops in East Berlin, his face tilted down and a level of focus and calm as he stared down below in his crouched position. The lights behind him giving him an ethereal glow, a mix of white, red, and blue as those shades on his face gave a little glint due to it.

You reached a hand to see it better only for Adler to click his tongue, taking the picture back closer to him with a shake of his head.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t exactly be incentive if I gave it to you easily like that. You seem eager though.” Adler arched a brow at you. “Any reason as to why?”

Your cheeks prickle as you cursed in your mind. Why didn’t you get the film from the red room or Park yourself? You thought of a T.V. turning on it’s own, flashbacks to what happened in Vietnam on the screen, the memory sobering you up. You still. . .haven’t told Adler about that. He’ll call you soft and put you solely in the safehouse with no more field missions. You hate his disappointment. Still though, you recall you were determined to get it. A quick in and out but than. . . something? Something. . . happened?

At your brows furrowing deeply, Adler’s own brows furrowed and you answered his silent question as you touched your head.

“Sorry. . . That coma I woke up from still has done a number on me.”

“You did get shot twice, Bell. You have issues with always trying to push me out the way, even back in ‘Nam.” You smiled at his tease. You did have a protective streak. But only for certain people—even if you knew Adler could handle himself, you would do what you must for him if he told you an order. Or even go against it if it involved him doing something stupid like a sacrificial mission. You’d follow him anywhere. “Don’t think too much on it. I’m sure the rest of your memories will come back soon enough.  Just remember in the end that mission was a success.”

“Whatever it takes, sir.” You said, a phrase that he spoke often back in the war. Which you would repeat. You would always do what you must.

Adler’s expression shadowed as he nodded once.

“Whatever it takes,” he glanced at the polaroid in his hand, it facing him as he seemed to stare in thought before turning his gaze towards you. Your expression curious as you wondered what he was thinking before he turned the picture back towards you, brow up inquisitively. “Well, Bell? Don’t think you’re going to dodge the question as to why you want this? I went through a bit of trouble to let Park let me have it. She’s stubborn when she wants to be.”

You slightly scowled at him, feeling the blush once more.

You hated when he did that blasted rhyme!

You also had a sense there was more to him asking Park but you were too busy trying to defend yourself. Not think about their daily quiet pissing match.

“I like taking pictures. It’s an art form. Every artist would like to have their own paintings,” you said, tone even and you wanted to pat yourself in the back for that.

Adler rose both his brows now.

“Really?” The way he said it made it seem he doubted you. “Not a photographer. Was never really interested in art either so maybe that’s why I can’t relate. Still. It’s a good picture, my good side and all. Can see why you would want it.”

You restrained yourself from saying what you wanted like last time. That basically you would want that picture even if it was on his scarred side.

“It had good lighting.” You added as Adler stared at his picture, cigarette being held in his lips. He turned back towards you, glasses slightly falling from his nose and you could see a hint of his eyes. A tease. You stared. His lips curved around the cigarrette, amused and indulging. You panicked. “I-It does!”

“I didn’t say anything. But say, the sooner you finish that code, the sooner you can have this—“ he paused, waving the hand with the polaroid”—piece of art of yours. Never thought I would say that but I guess there’s a first for everything.” He pocketed the picture back in his jacket, blowing his smoke away from you before he stood up and headed towards Sims only to add over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it. I know you got this.”

You stared as he walked over, the belief he had in you with those words moving around in your brain. You moved back to work, pointedly ignoring Lazar’s whistle—him able to hear some of what occurred no doubt. You threw him an impolite gesture that only made the man laugh as you focused on the code. It took you three tiring and near sleepless nights, but you finished. Adler handing you the photo in between his fingers as you took it gently, trying not to crinkle the photo further as Adler watched you behind his shades as you held the photo, taking a thoughtful inhale of his cigarette before looking away. Looking around their surroundings outside the safehouse. Their break time spot.

“You sure got talent, kid.”

“You should know by now to not doubt me, Russ,” you replied, your eyes still on the photo between your gloved hands. “Only the best of the best with you. Just took me longer than I thought.”

“Watch that confidence doesn’t blind you one day, Bell.”

“You first.”

He chuckled at that, breathless and surprised making you stare up with wide eyes. The sound rare. Adler tapped the end of his cigarette, ash going on the ground as he stared towards the doors of the safehouse, an echo of a smile on his face. Barely there. Others wouldn’t see it, but you’ve known Adler for years.

“You got guts. And spunk. Met my match with you it seems, kid. You know me too well. . .” Adler took a puff, deep as he trailed off, shades dark.

“That’s not a bad thing,” you say, lowering the photo in your hand. “Sims does too. Can’t exactly get rid of us that easy.”

“Sims has been through many missions with me, but not as much as you.” Adler explained calmly. “Some of those, I’m taking to my grave. If I breathe a word about it, I’ll have a bunch of people up my ass.”

You sense as if this was like a conversation from years ago, on a beach. Quiet and away from everyone in the camp, just the two of you talking about realities and soldiers. You think about that memory a lot.

You recall some of the memories he’s referring to.

You half shrugged, pocketing the photo in your bomber jacket as you leaned against the wall of the safehouse.

“What can you do? It was necessary. Besides, I can’t exactly tell anyone else either, Adler. Brutality is sometimes necessary. That’s all I know.” You paused, tilting your head and throwing a teasing smirk his way to get him out this weird mood. “Don’t tell me America’s Monster actually cares what other people say?”

Adler deeply exhaled in exasperation, smoke coming out his nose.

“Don’t tease me, Bell. You know I can’t give a shit.”

“Than what’s the problem? You do what needs to be done. Make the tough calls. You know. . . you know I understand right?” You asked carefully. “I’m with you when it comes to doing what we must. To protect what we need to.”

Adler was silent. He never answered.

You didn’t push him. Didn’t feel the need.

You understood him the best.

Only monsters can see one another, after all.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▌▌✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Monsters, you’ve come to know, are also a certain kind of creature that takes what they need.

To want. Selfish and uncaring and you should be concerned at how easily you take in those traits.

Too busy to worry about regular people—the mundane. There are bigger things to be focused on than other’s opinions on what actions are necessary.

You and Adler can give not one fuck about others. They know what they are and will accept the titles from others with a nod.

What you’re coming to find however, that even with monsters, there’s different breeds.

You basically reiterated to him that what he did with you was necessary. Needed. Sound brutality at its finest. You feel like you can’t even argue.

What is better—loyalty to a country or to people?

You’re trapped.

.

.

.

I have a problem. This story is going to be long when it was supposed to be short. Oh well. 

Also, hot take maybe, I love both Soft!Adler and Dark!Adler so let’s just have both sides of him shall we? Wait…is Adler truly soft here? Who knows.

DM me if you wish to be tagged please. ^////^

Tags:

@quizzyisdone @zulema117-blog @efingart  @pinkpinkboota @nuclear-boston @lifeisthemoments @jintana-critical @eclectriccanoeseven @hurricanesyd-blog @parkeepingparker @moonchild365-blog @aurora-windu @imperfectophelia @dvesinthewind @holy-crap-i-am-russlle-adler @i-will-give-you-love @adlerboi @preciouslilcreature @saynotohydra @mayaibnlaahad @smokeywhalee @0shuni0-blog @multi-fandom-imagine @littlepotatowizard  @direwolfspostsrandomshit @darlingor @collinnmckinley @kayalect @nikkibell1937 @fuzzybonkeggsopera @ppfedd @bro0kebxrter @actuallyilya @stayb1ack @frankwoodsmalewife @tr1ppylady @danjer

[xoluvx]

betty; p.parker

» pairing: peter parker x reader » song: betty » word count: 1.9K

There was a flutter in Peter's heart as he watched you from behind his locker. He was pretending to dig for something, but his head peeked from behind the door watching you enter the school. The glow of senior year oozed off you and the never-ending giggles of your friends wrapped around you like a safety blanket. Your bag hung on one of your arms as the other linked with an arm of one of your friends.

Peter's heart thumped as you approached his locker. Usually, you would come up to him, peck his cheek, tell him how much you missed him, and celebrate the fact you were finally seniors in high school. But that wasn't the case. You walked right past him as if he were invisible.

He followed you down the hall with his eyes, the chatter among your friends grew softer as you disappeared in the crowd of freshmen rushing to find their classrooms. His eyes were on you when you briefly turned your head finding his eyes. Embarrassed, you turned quickly. But his eyes were still on you until he lost you in the crowd.

Shutting his locker, Peter sighed.

"Hey," Ned's voice rang in the hallway as he hurried to Peter.

Peter greeted Ned, as they walked side by side towards their first period. "Are you going to her party?" Ned asked glancing at Peter. He knew it was a sensitive topic, one he hadn't disclosed all the details about yet.

"She hates me," Peter responded shrugging his shoulders digging his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"What happened with Gwen anyway?" Ned asked bluntly. He was tired of being left in the dark, of tiptoeing around the issue and tired of his best friend ditching him for most of the summer.

Peter turned to look at Ned with a blank look, flashbacks of summer invading his mind.

"Do you need a ride?" The voice startled Peter. He'd heard the car coming, but he hadn't turned to see who was approaching him. When the car stopped next to him, he recognized the girl. She had been in one of his classes, but they'd never spoken before.

"Oh no, thank you." Peter shook his head politely. He was carrying his skateboard, a wheel was busted so he was left to walk the rest of the way home.

"It's not a problem, I have nowhere to be." She added smiling at him, lifting her sunglasses, Peter made eye contact. Her eyes were friendly, lips curling into an inviting smile. "I don't bite," she added unlocking her car.

Peter gulped but approached her car. If he walked, it would take him another half hour. Why not?

"Peter, right?" she said. It was then Peter realized she was chewing gum, she blew a bubble take popped as she brought her sunglasses down. Peter nodded.

"Gwen. We had English together," she mentioned driving down the road. "Why are you out here all alone?" she asked casually keeping her eyes on the road.

Peter shifted in his seat, his skateboard awkwardly between his legs. "I was at my friend Ned's house," He said looking at her briefly. "But my skateboard broke-" he continued talking looking down at the skateboard with the missing wheel.

"You know how to fix it?" she asked.

"I think I have to get it fixed," he confessed. Or maybe Ned could help, but that would require transportation that he didn't have.

"I can take you," she offered and Peter's eyes widen a bit. He was confused by her generosity. He barely knew this girl.

"I have to get home. My aunt is waiting for me." It was true. Aunt May didn't play when it came to dinner. Even though the sun was still out, he had to be home for dinner in less than an hour.

"Tomorrow," she shrugged nonchalantly glancing at Peter as they stopped at a red light. Peter's eyes scanned her face, her round features, and her long lashes. The gum expanded once again in a small bubble.

"Sure. Okay," Peter smiled as he gave her directions towards his house.

Peter should've known then. He should've known how things would end, but he was too gullible and he missed you too much. You'd taken the camp counselor job and though you would only be gone for five weeks, they felt like the longest five weeks. Gwen was filling that void.

Gwen's company made the days slightly more bearable. It was innocent. It started that way at least.

"I saw them at the arcade together," Inez's voice was becoming staticky. Your thoughts fogged as you heard what she was saying. "I wanted to call as soon as I saw, but you were at camp." She frowned, it was ingenuine though. Like she was living for the hurt expression on your face.

She went in for a hug, but you moved out of her way leaving the mall. You weren't going to entertain this. Is that why Peter wasn't there like he said he would? At your doorstep waiting for you to come back from camp?

You could feel the tears forming as you approached your car. Fumbling with the door you finally pulled it open sliding into the driver's seat slamming the door, gripping the steering wheel as you let the tears flow. Your chest felt tight.

This had to be the worst welcome home ever.

"Hey," Ned waved and you turned in his direction. He was waving at you with a friendly smile. Peter was next to him looking like a lost puppy. You faked a smile and waved, ignoring Peter, before you got pulled away by your friends to your table in the cafeteria.

"Are you going to talk to him?" one of your friends, Alice, asked drinking from her juice box. Another cut in and it was all too much for you to process. They knew as much as Inez had told you, and they knew you hadn't spoken to Peter since you left for camp.

"I think you should talk to him," Abigail added with a concerned expression.

"No, don't. He's not worth it. Remember how he didn't even come and rescue you when Jack refused to take no for an answer at the dance?" Rebecca retaliated.

You remembered clearly. You'd just started dating. Peter was still shy. It wasn't a big deal. You weren't even expecting Peter to come to the dance and you wouldn't have known that he was there unless Inez made it a point to tell you later that night as you walked towards the parking lot.

"We've already gone over that, it wasn't a big deal." You reasoned still on Peter's side. Because that was the thing, even if Peter had betrayed your trust, you felt like you'd always be on team Peter.

Glancing at his table, you saw him talking with Ned and you wished you could just go up there and forget everything ever happened press reset, and start senior year how you'd been planning with Peter.

"What if he shows up at your party?" Rebecca asked and you snapped back to your table. Shrugging you poked at your veggies before pushing your tray away. You weren't hungry.

The week went by in a flash, but each day felt longer than the previous. You wrapped your cardigan tightly around your body as you got out of bed. It was Saturday, in a few hours crowds of people would be in your backyard celebrating the start of the last year of high school.

But you were too caught up on Peter.

The sound of a text notification caught your attention.

Can we talk? - Ned

That was weird. Ned wasn't usually one to text you. Peter was always there as the middle man. You were curious.

What's up? You typed waiting for his text in anticipation. Your phone rang and you caught your breath. You were expecting him to continue texting.

"Hello?" you asked cautiously.

"Don't hang up, please. I need to talk to you. You need to hear me out, please-" it was Peter. His voice filled your body with warmth until you remembered.

"Peter," your voice cracked. What could you say to him? Nothing, you were about to hang up when you heard his voice again.

"Don't hang up. I was stupid. I missed you and Gwen was there, and I know that's not an excuse for what I did but I never stopped thinking of you-" he was out of breath speaking quickly.

You felt your heart tighten, the familiar feeling of tears forming in your eyes took over.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You hung up. You couldn't deal with this. Not when Abigail and Rebecca were on their way. Wiping the tears, you discarded the cardigan on your bed. The one he'd bought for you last Christmas.

-

"Are you having fun?" Abigail asked squeezing your hand lightly. She was speaking over the loud music, her nose close to your ear. Nodding, you feigned a smile before looking into the crowd. No Peter.

"I'll be back," you motioned towards your house letting her know you needed to grab something.

But in reality, you needed some space. You'd been looking forward to this day. Towards your last year of high school, but plans changed. Sighing you sat on your porch. You could still hear the music and though the party was in your backyard, you needed a breath of air that wasn't congested by teens.

Swinging on the porch swing, you leaned your head back looking at the silent street. That's when you saw a figure. One hand deep in the pockets of his jeans, a skateboard in the other. It was Peter.

"Hi," his voice echoed drowning out the music. Your heart skipped a beat and you straightened up on the porch swing. You planted your hands on either side of you grounding you.

"What are you doing here?" you asked carefully getting off the swing.

"Just listen to me please," he said climbing up the three steps of your porch. "I messed up, I know I did." He looked at you with sad eyes placing his skateboard down. "It meant nothing to me. Gwen was a distraction. One that ruined the best thing that's happened to me," he was sincere with his words. His tone was gentle as he stepped forward.

"I thought becoming an Avenger was the best thing that happened to you," you joked folding your arms. That got a small chuckle out of Peter.

"That's a close second," he joked back, this time it was your turn to laugh softly. You were falling back into your comfortable state. One where only you and Peter existed.

"I can't ask you to forget what happened-" he was stepping closer. "-but please forgive me, I will do anything." He reached for your hands, your fingers intertwining easily.

"Anything?" you asked, your voice cracking.

Peter squeezed your hands nodding.

"Kiss me," you whispered pulling Peter closer with your hands still tangled together. A goofy smile spread across Peter's face and he happily closed the gap between your bodies.

He let go of your hands so he could cup your face. Yours instantly wrapped around his torso.

"I missed you," he whispered against your lips, your noses touching.

Smiling you kissed him again. The fabric of his soft lightweight sweater felt right under your fingertips. You could smell his fabric softener and shampoo.

It felt like home.

folklore masterlist

[citowon]

Beware of Dog 🍒 Taichi Nanao

c4tb0y0: Ahhhhh that last masumi fic + hc was so cute and funny! I loved it so much, could I please request hcs for taichi with a gn!s/o who looks very intimidating on the outside but really they are a big softie anyways please have a nice day, eat + drink lots and please stay safe! <3

WAAAAAH ya girl just got slammed with 4 essays due this week. it’s why i’m actually writing this at 5:24 am right now, actually, i really wanted to get my ideas out for this one and get it queued so i can concentrate on my work! thank you for your patience. this reader’s personality is one of my favorites that i’ve written, and i hope you enjoy this total sweetheart and everything they fight for. 🌟

not to be one of Those Bitches™ but i love water- i don’t drink soda, only coffee when i need the rush, and juice and lemonade as a treat. please make sure to drink at least one glass of water per meal everyone! ...though i will admit i’ve only eaten one meal today, i think, i lost count. and because these essays are rocking my shit and i wanted to get beware of dog up today i’m not sleeping tonight and i’ll just take a phat nap after class and i have to type quietly so i don’t wake up my light sleeper roommate... i’m getting off topic. sleepy wave is a little silly sometimes. a lot of times, really. please enjoy yourself.

word count: 9154

tags: fic, gender neutral reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, i wouldn’t call it angst but yeah, there’s a bit of angst in there, cursing,  physical violence (no weapons fistfight)

summary: As your relationship with Taichi deepens, you would go through hell and high water to protect the ones you care about, and the feeling is mutual.

Sakyo should’ve known something was wrong the second he saw Nanao on his phone.

Nanao was a lot of things; young, brash, excitable, but never inattentive. Ever since the first tech rehearsal of The Stranger, he never picked up his phone, even with all its vibrating. He said something about “getting into the zone,” and Sakyo respected his choice to avoid the distraction. Sakyo has never seen Nanao even considering going back on his word after over a year of productions in Autumn Troupe, which was something to be admired, especially with how flighty he could be off the stage.

He was so used to every other actor checking their phone, though, that when Nanao picked it up today thirty minutes before the curtain rose on Fiery Mantou Fist, he didn’t even bat an eye. Nanao’s eyebrows were furrowed together as he took a giant, puffy-cheeked breath and typed something in determination.

Then Sakyo carried on without a second thought. What, was he supposed to do something? He was a grown-ass man; it wasn’t his responsibility to psychoanalyze everyone he passed by. All he wanted to do was set the Mantou Fist scroll prop before the show. Sue him, he was focused on the wellbeing of the play.

And Nanao was in the right headspace as well during the show, but right after he thanked everyone who congratulated him, he sped through his post-show routine and went back to his phone, which is how Sakyo made the connection and put two and two together.

He loomed over Taichi’s shoulder, the younger actor still typing away with full attention on the screen. Sakyo spoke up. “Oi.”

“AAAAHHHH!”

Sakyo lurched back, ears ringing from the scream. Damn. Maybe Bon was onto something whenever he called Sakyo an old geezer; one more screech like that and his hearing would go out. Then he really was done for, and as much as the Director made him want to play for keeps, this would be one bet he’d have to tap out on.

“It’s not what you think! I promise! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m-” Nanao swiveled in his chair, his face aghast and eyes riddled with fear, until he wasn’t. He blinked and his face reset, glancing at Sakyo with boyish, though minimal, guilt. “Oh, sorry, Sakyo! I didn’t see you there. Did you need something?”

Sakyo pinched his nose. His ears were still ringing. This was even worse than the last time someone fired a gun point blank next to him (don’t ask). “What… was that? Is something wrong?”

“I get scared easily. Sorry! I was just about to go outside, actually.”

“...Right.” Sakyo’s brain was so scrambled, even his common sense eluded him. “Don’t be out too late.”

“I won’t! I’ll be back before you know it!”

Sakyo just watched him leave as he pieced his thoughts back together.

Settsu piped up during the stunned silence. “Hey, Sakyo, real quick question. What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” he said lamely. “Do you think he’s in trouble?”

“He seemed out of it,” Hyodo chimed in. “He looked… worried?”

“If you’re not sure, then keep your mouth shut.”

“Like you would know.”

“I sure would! I’m great at reading people.”

As Settsu and Hyodo continued to bicker- really, it was only a matter of time before they started- Azami spoke up. “Well, I’m concerned. He looked like he was about to shit himself.”

“Maybe he is in trouble,” Fushimi wondered aloud.

That was all it took for Sakyo to get his head back in working order. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuuuuuuck.

He got complacent. Even after Azami’s abduction, he got complacent. Nanao was a good kid, and athletic enough to keep up with Autumn Troupe with ease, but he was small, and honestly, a little stupid. Of course he would be the glowing neon target on Autumn.

Was someone trying to fuck with Mankai again? Worst case scenarios drove through his mind. Nanao being blackmailed. Nanao in a street deal. Nanao as leverage- fuuuuck. What if an enemy family figured out the connections between Ginsenkai and Mankai? Taichi was a member close to Sakyo and the least capable in a fight. What if this was a ploy to start a gang war?

This needed to stop. This needed to stop before it even started.

Sakyo turned on his heel, voice unemotive but blood boiling. “I’m going to follow him.”

“Call me if anything’s wrong. I’ll check on him,” Fushimi called out.

Oh, if only something was just simply wrong.

Sakyo wished something was just simply wrong.

He cased the joint branching out- and found him in an alley relatively close to the perimeter. This was good news. Staying close to home turf meant he only needed to grab Taichi, sprint back to the theater, and then the abductors wouldn’t dare try entering and exposing their identity unless they were real stupid.

He clung to the wall, watching the interaction out of the corner of his eye. Taichi’s hair made him stick out like a sore thumb, but in front of him, someone virtually unnoticeable. Average.

So why did they carry themselves like a wolf with its claws wrapped around a deer?

Young. Young like Taichi, but their presence was so much bigger. Their face tightened into sharp features sculpted by the shadows of the alley. Taichi stared up at them in reverence.

Not flighty enough to be a thief, not charismatic enough to be a scammer. Yakuza, probably. Fresh meat. Too hopped up on the movies to realize it’s not all blood, guns and girls. No self-respecting seasoned family member would pull a stunt like this right next to the theater. Dumbass didn’t even know how to carry out an abduction.

Whispering. Sharp enough to register, quiet enough to be indecipherable. The mini-gangster stepped closer to Taichi. When they approached Taichi shivered and Sakyo saw red.

Time to intervene. Sakyo crossed his arms as he strode to the opening of the alley. “You got a problem with our man?”

“Sakyo-”

But they stepped forward before Taichi could call out his name, and held a dark-sleeved arm out to block him. “The fuck do you want?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Let him go.”

The corner of their mouth rose, flashing bared fangs. “Better idea, you turn around and forget you ever saw us.”

Sakyo rolled up his sleeves. “You wanna see yourself bleed?!”

“Bring it! I’m not letting him get hurt-”

“Stop!” Taichi yelled with his whole body. He sprinted forward, past the abductor and between the two. “Please don’t fight! Stop!”

“Outta the way before you get hurt!”

“Let me handle this myself!”

Despite their protests Taichi grabbed a hand from either person and smacked them together, forcing them into a handshake. “Sakyo! This is Reader! They’re the one I’ve been talking about!”

The gangster- Reader’s- hand went from tight fist to loose. Sakyo watched their stone-cold exterior fall to just plain dumbfoundedness.

Which was perfectly understandable, mind you. Sakyo opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to figure out something to say.

So Taichi just threw his hands in the air in a half-hearted razzle-dazzle move. “Suuurprise?”

Sakyo settled on, “It’s a… pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise?” Reader limply shook his hand. ”I’ve seen your shows. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. You look a lot paler in person.”

“People look different under stage lighting.”

“Sorry. My bad. Sorry.”

Reader hadn’t broken the handshake yet.

“I heard a lot about you from Nanao,” Sakyo said. “I hope you’re taking care of him. For your sake.”

“Sakyo, please don’t threaten my partner,” Nanao whined.

Reader nervously laughed. What a contrast to their demeanor. “It’s understandable. I’ve also heard about Autumn Troupe. Thank you for taking care of him.”

“You’re welcome.”

Reader still held Sakyo’s hand in theirs, but didn’t even bother to continue shaking. This had to be one of the worst alleyway confrontations Sakyo’s ever had in his career.

Nanao scratched the back of his head and turned to the other actor. “Are they looking for me?”

“Not once I get back.”

“Okay, cool. You see, I was actually in the middle of something…”

Actually, make that the worst alleyway confrontation Sakyo’s ever had in his career. Forget mortified, Sakyo felt just plain gross. Reader covered their face with their hands.

“I’ll just tell them you’re fine,” he said, then reconsidered. “You are fine, right?”

“Yes! Oh my god. Totally fine, I swear.”

“I’ll take my leave then.” Sakyo toyed with his glasses. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Reader.”

“Likewise,” Reader mumbled.

“I’ll be back soon, Sakyo.”

“...Bye.”

Sakyo couldn’t walk away fast enough.

“Haha.”

Taichi stared off into the brick wall behind him and couldn’t help but awkwardly laugh. “Hahaha. Sorry. I didn’t expect you to meet Sakyo like that…”

“It’s-it’s fine. He was going to meet me sooner or later…”

But that really had to be one of the worst ways to go about it, wasn’t it?

“He’s a good guy. Really! I know he seems scary. It’s because he is. He’s actually really scary. But only when he wants to be! Which is often, but that isn’t the point. He’s just... looking out for me.”

His gaze darted to you, teal eyes full of worry. You reached for his face and kissed him on the lips.

“I know,” you said, voice stuttering. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I… I just d-didn’t expect it. That’s all. Really.”

“I didn’t expect that either!”

“Yeah, I didn’t either.”

“No, not the Sakyo thing, I mean the… the thing that...” Taichi waved his hands around, trying to figure out the word. But it never came to him, so he just decided to wrap an arm around your neck, lead you closer, and kiss you back.

This boy really was going to be the death of you, huh?

When he pulled back, his smile was genuine. Small and sweet, cheeks flush and light with a sigh that soon escaped him. Oh, the things you would do to never let that smile falter. You’ve been dating for some time now, but the feeling’s always been there, flighty in the beginning, but easing into a comfortable, mutual love.

So you held him tight in your arms and said what was on your mind: “I love you.”

His head tilted to perch on your shoulder, and the arm that was already around your body rested along your neck. “I love you too.”

Oh, what you wouldn’t do to protect that love.

Ding-dong!

Your hand retreated the second the doorbell rang, and your mind ran through every hot romance tip you skimmed over back when you and Taichi first started dating. Your relationship started with two inexperienced people relying on teen magazines and dating advice sites, but it was awkward, and soon abandoned for the comfort of your prior friendship, but like, with kissing and flirting and stuff. Affection was casual and easily earned, and Taichi’s antics taught you long ago that you didn’t have to be composed in front of him; he loved you all the same.

But, well, this visit wasn’t exactly for Taichi’s eyes only.

Noise echoed through Mankai Company. You could hear shouts and conversations resonating through the halls and leading outside- not exactly enough to earn a noise violation, but at that volume where you know the neighbors have considered it.

Chest out, back straight, don’t fidget and don’t slouch. Taichi always insisted on escorting you home after a date, but you’ve never returned the favor. ‘It’s like meeting the parents,’ he said once on a coffee date, flustered and staring into his latte. ‘I’m sure you’ll meet them some day! But let’s not do that now!’

That was a few months ago. He requested you meet him at the dorms so he could escort you to a bowling alley arcade, but it was about the same distance from the dorms as it was to your house. Does that mean he wanted to show you off to his troupe? Does that mean he loves you? You knew that, you’ve exchanged the words with him countless times before, but is there another degree above just love? Did something shift in your relationship, and was it for the better or a step back? Did you mess up something? You hoped not. You really didn’t want to mess up with Taichi. You didn’t want to mess up in general, really, but not with Taichi, anyone but Taichi.

No one opened the door yet. You should ring the bell again.

Ding-dong!

“COMING!”

That was… decidedly not Taichi. You could hear heavy clunking against the wood floor as someone approached the door. Was the floor always that loud? Maybe these dorms were older than you thought.

“Mankai Company!” The door swung open. “Do you need…”

You stared down at a head of green hair. His chin rose as he met the eyes of an absolute beast of a person towering over him, stiff as a board and frightening as frozen hell, even with the little bouquet of flowers in their arms.

He squeezed his lips together before he finished the thought. “Do you need something?”

“I’m looking for Taichi.”

“The dumb dog?”

Ouch. You winced for Taichi. You noticed the teen in the threshold tremble, and held back a huff. Great work, Reader, you already scared one of the actors Taichi lived with before you even got his name.

He forced a stiff upper lip. “I’ll get him.”

Then he turned on his high heel- high heels indoors? Now that was extra- and shut the door. You watched him briskly walk through the window until he was out of view.

Well, you already blew it! Might as well relax.

You told yourself that, but while your body rested, your head was anything but relaxed. What if that guy was Taichi’s best friend in the whole entire company and you lost his approval just then? You didn’t want him to choose between his best friend and his partner. You’d feel awful if he had to.

You sighed, and looked down at the pansy bouquet in your arms for comfort. It was less of a bouquet and more of a bundle, with small blooms and no filler flowers, but the petals varied from bold white to crisp blue. You didn't know if Taichi had a favorite variety, but these were the brightest of the bunch, and Taichi deserved flowers as beautiful as him.

The door opened once more, and you straightened up, but dropped your gaze to meet the eyes of the boy that you scared off, or maybe even your boyfriend. After all, they were both small enough you had to lower your neck to make eye contact with them.

Instead you were greeted by a tight white shirt outlining absolutely shredded abs. You cast your eyes up and nearly balked at the glaring face that looked up at you. The man was six feet of pure muscle, still not tall enough to look down on you, but massive enough to overpower you. His stare was downright ghastly, only accentuated by the smear of black grease on his cheek, and under his fingernails, and… pretty much everywhere, actually. He smelled like smoke, sweat, and oil.

He scrunched up his nose. You felt a shiver run down your spine. “You got beef with Taichi?”

“No! No beef!” You nearly dropped your flowers, but forced yourself to be strong. “I’m here to pick him up.”

You scowled, hoping it would be enough to get this guy to step down. He scowled back. Great, now you were starting to understand what it was like to be on the receiving end of an intimidating face. You wanted to cry.

“For what?” Big Guy said. His voice was low like rolling thunder.

“A date.” You crossed your arms, growing defensive. “He told me to meet him here-”

“You’re Reader?”

“You know me?”

Big Guy averted his eyes. Was he embarrassed? “I’ve heard your name.”

“Oh. I’m his partner. How’d you know my name? Does he talk about me?”

“Uh…”

Sakyo walked back into the dressing room. They had already struck the Mantou Fist set, and in the corner all their costumes were neatly hung up on a rolling rack.

Fushimi practically pounced on him the second he entered the room. “You didn’t call me back. Is Taichi okay?”

“Settle down, Fushimi. He’s fine,” Sakyo said.

“What happened?”

Maybe in another world, he would’ve been more sympathetic. Had it been earlier, certainly, he’d try to cover for Nanao. But it was late and Sakyo was tired and Bon was going to throw a fit about wrinkles if he didn’t get his beauty rest anytime soon.

“He’s busy. He needed privacy with Reader.”

No one really broke the pregnant pause that came after. On one hand, good thing he was safe, but on the other...

“Good for him,” Settsu finally said, surprisingly quiet, like he just wanted to gloss over that fact. The others matched his volume.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, good for him.”

“Gross, you’re a voyeur. Barf.”

“...Yeah,” Big Guy finally said.

“Huh.”

“Come in.”

“Okay.”

That’s how you found yourself sitting in the Mankai Company lounge across Big Guy, who fetched High Heels along the way, the latter incoming with a pot of tea and cups.

“I’m Reader,” you said. Someone had to start the conversation, after all. You weren’t good at it, but it was a start.

“I know,” Big Guy said.

“I didn’t. Why didn’t you lead with that?” High Heels placed one of the cups in front of you, steam rising out from the ceramic. “I wouldn’t have gotten Juza to shoo you away if I knew you were the dumb dog’s partner.”

“Sorry.” You gently placed your pansies on the table, careful not to crush any of the petals, and wrapped your hands around the cup. “Wait, I was being shooed?”

Juza raised his hand to apologize. “Yuki thought that if someone tough like me greeted you, you wouldn’t hurt Taichi.”

“But I don’t want to hurt Taichi,” you said, crestfallen. You grew up tall, big and menacing, and you knew what a mysterious (read; shy) demeanor did to already established rumors, but still, you were taken aback. “I wouldn’t even think about it.”

Yuki poured Juza some tea. “We had a scare a few months ago. Sakyo said he thought the dog got caught up in a yakuza affair. Alleyway abduction or something.”

“Was it during Mantou Fist’s run?”

Juza and Yuki traded a knowing look. The former nodded.

“That was me.” You stared at your tea. “I just wanted to say hello and congratulate him. Sorry. Everyone thinks I’m a gangster, but I’m not. I promise. I’m not a bully or a punk either. I don’t do hard drugs, and I definitely don’t deal them either. Oh, on that subject, I don’t drink. I’m not a criminal, and I don’t pickpocket-”

“Do people really think that of you?”

“Yeah,” you said, and you stared at Juza when he said it in sync with you. “You too?”

“I still get punks tryin’ to pick a fight with me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He waved a hand. “It happens.”

...To people with unfairly scary faces, sure, but that still didn’t mean he deserved to get caught up in fights!

Yuki sipped his drink. “For the record, If Juza has that reputation but acts like a sloth all day, then you’re probably okay with me. I don’t care about your image.”

“That’s good. I thought I scared you earlier.”

“I was not. Scared. Got it?” Yuki gave you a murderous glare that made you sink in your seat, but his ears were red. “The point is, Taichi really likes you. So unless you screw up real bad, you’re fine in my book.”

“But if you try to hurt him, you’re gonna have to go through us,” Juza said.

You and Juza were kindred spirits, you could already tell, and both suffered from being too naturally intimidating for your own good, but jeez. The way he leered at you when he said that made you feel like you were doomed to a Mankai firing squad execution if you ever made a misstep.

“Trust me. Whatever you think he’ll do, I’ll make it worse,” Yuki threatened. The dryness in his voice made Juza look like a Pomeranian.

“Okay,” you whimpered. “I will not do that. I will literally do anything but that.”

“Good.” The corners of Yuki’s mouth turned into a smile, but the way he said it made it so much more chilling.

“...Stop hazing Taichi’s partner.”

“Guhwuh,” you squawked.

Look. It wasn’t exactly a fine moment. You know this, and you aren’t ashamed to say you were scared, because really, who wouldn’t be when a strange new voice calls out from behind you and you turn around and literally not even a foot away is some rando with snowy white hair over one eye like a 2005 emo kid that somehow managed to sneak up on you despite being on edge this entire time and also up against a wall?

You digress.

“We’re just having a chat. The dumb dog said he’ll be downstairs in two minutes.”

“That’s fair. I was kind of early anyways, so it’s only natural he’s not ready yet…”

You trailed off, but the man continued. “He’s happy, Reader. He always is but he’s truly happy he met you. Don’t disappoint him.”

Juza may be a Pomeranian, and Yuki made your blood run cold, and it might’ve just been because of how caught off-guard you were, but this guy just won an Academy Award for Scariest Shovel Talk.

Then he had the audacity to yawn (rather cutely, you might add) and drink the rest of Juza’s untouched tea. “...Juza, how’s your bike?”

“Omi said there was a problem with the tank, but it’s a simple fix once he gets a replacement part. Tasuku’s driving to find a store that sells them right now.”

“How long has he been out?”

“Since noon?”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah. But he’s determined. Says he really wants to get this done today.”

“And Omi?”

“Trying to plug the leak.”

“That’s good.”

“Why?”

“There’s no one to stop me if I do this.”

You were about to ask what ‘this’ was when the man stuck out a half-hearted peace sign, shut his visible eye, and fell backwards. You jumped out of your seat to help him, but his back arched over the sofa and sent him somersaulting over the sofa, and he landed face-down perpendicular to the cushions.

You were speechless. “What the- oh my god. What just happened? Is he okay?!”

“It happens.” Yuki waved a hand dismissively.

“But- but he just-”

“It happens,” Juza repeated. “Hisoka does that a lot.”

“I- wh- um.” The man, Hisoka, let out a giant snore. You slowly sunk back into your seat. “...Okay.”

“Are these for the dog?” Yuki asked.

You shifted your gaze to where Yuki’s clear-coated fingernail was pointing. It was your flowers. “Um! Yeah! They are! I garden, you see, a lot really, it’s my hobby. But I’m not very good at it. They aren’t that pretty. I didn’t do a good job of fertilizing them last time I planted. You can see blemishes on this petal. And this one, too.”

“They’re his favorite flowers, you know,” Yuki said.

“Um, yeah.” You calmed yourself after your nervous rambling. “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you have any other varieties in your garden?”

“Yes! Yes, actually. I- um, he loves them, you know, so when we started… you know, being serious, I really got into pansies? Since he likes them. So I just have a lot of them now. Just a lot. My garden’s a good size so I still have a lot of diversity between plants but I have a lot of pansies. I kind of collect different species of pansies now. I’m trying to get some black devils. They’re purely black, but they have a little yellow spot in the middle. Kind of weird but in a pretty way. They don’t sell them in local nurseries since they’re so weird, even though I think they’re cool. Oh, but I have almost every other color though. But only with the black blotch in the center. Makes them look really stark and pop-arty compared to all my other flowers. The ones without the blotch are nice, too, but they just look so plain. I like raising flowers that most people think are too, oough, it’s ‘out there,’ you know? It’s like Bob Ross. Get a little crazy with it, haha. My hot pink pansies always bloom a little late compared to the others, so they’re still budding. But the others are coming along nicely. You kind of have to have yellow pansies, right? They’re a classic. I’m a really nontraditional gardener but yellow pansies are just a must. But I also have burgundy. They’re really unique and kind of tiding me over while I search for black ones. I’ve got two different purples, too. One of them is really dark, like, royal purple, but the other is lavender? Like, not lavender lavender, that’s a whole other plant, but like, the same color, lavender. Oh, and I really love these multicolored ones I have, they’re kind of a burnt red but the further away you get from the center they turn yellow. It’s so cool. They look like fire.”

“You should show him the fire flowers,” Juza said. To be honest, you really spaced out there, and totally didn’t expect either of the actors to listen to you, but sure enough, they seemed interested enough. Even if Juza made your prized plants sound like Super Mario power-ups. “He likes them.”

“You think so? That’s really convenient actually. They aren’t in full bloom yet but they will be soon.”

Juza nodded. “Taichi’ll like ‘em.”

“I’ll like what?”

“Seriously, what is up with people sneaking up on me today,” you half-hissed, half-squeaked.

“Sorry, Reader!” Taichi wrapped his arms around you in a back hug. You couldn’t resist the warm smile that spread across your face. “Yuki, Juza, have you met Reader yet? We’re dating.”

Yuki scoffed. “We’ve already introduced ourselves, made plans to go out for brunch every day of the week, and shared all our embarrassing stories about you.”

“Yuuukiiiii. Don’t make me look uncool in front of my partner. We’re dating.”

“You just love saying that, don’t you.”

“Of course I do! We’re dating!” Taichi spun on his heel to approach Yuki and clapped either of his hands on his shoulders. Yuki smacked them off and dusted off his blouse. “This is Yuki! He’s super cute and younger than me but he’s my mentor! I help him sew all of our costumes!”

“You saying cute people can’t master their craft, intern?” Yuki said, the humorous lilt in his voice betraying the sharpness of his words.

He slid beside Juza next. “And this is Juza! He’s a total man’s man! He’s everything I want to be when I grow up!”

“Hey,” Juza said, like he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes talking to you. Then he pushed Taichi away. “Don’t get close to me. I smell like a garage gym.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, buddy!” Taichi snapped and finger-gunned in one smooth motion, then held out a hand for you. “See you guys! I’ve got places to be with Reader! We’re dating!”

You took his hand, and he led you out of the lounge. “It was nice meeting you two.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up and get out, I don’t like rom-coms,” Yuki teased.

“Have a good time,” Juza said.

“Gsnrk,” Hisoka snored.

Metal met soft earth, and cracked the layer above it.

Your shovel was firmly planted in the dirt, but you kicked your boot along the edge to really sink it in, and heft some soil out of the ground.

Wheeew. Your backyard looked like a flower prairie in a neighborhood pocket, with cobblestone pathways to traverse between flowers, fruits and veggies, and- you know you might be biased here- it really was one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. But man, keeping the yard in tip-top shape was hard work.

You rolled your shoulders and stretched, taking in the not-too-searing sun. It was late morning, and you really wanted to get things done before the day grew much longer and you had an afternoon sun beating down on you as you worked. It would be best for Taichi, too.

You’re not totally sure why he was so interested in helping you garden. Not even thirty minutes after he arrived, he already threw his shirt off to cool down, and was currently inside the house so he could make you some lemonade. He said it was so digging wasn’t as much of a chore to you, and joked about something like ‘being a malewife,’ but you were pretty sure he just needed a moment to recollect himself in the air-conditioned home.

Well, no matter, these cherry tomatoes weren’t going to plant themselves. You brushed your hand over your forehead, wiping off the sweat that pooled along it, and shook your head to flick back your damp hair. As you pushed it back, you noticed Taichi standing smack dab in front of the door, a tray with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade in his hands.

“Hey!” You waved at him. The shovel was still set under the earth by your boot. “I’m gonna take a break. Let’s chill out for a second.”

He nodded, and you led him to one of your favorite places in the garden: the trellis bench. It seemed sparse when you first bought it, forged with thin cast iron bars that kept two seated and not much else, and a sweeping arch above the bench fortified with extra iron bars. Not that long ago, your parents once dragged you along to a winery. You couldn’t drink any of the wines, but you explored the vineyards instead, and were greeted by pergolas everywhere, with curls of grapevines along the wooden shaft. They inspired you to start your own little grapevine, and now, your grapes had already gone through two or three harvests as they tangled and twisted through the bars of the trellis. Right now, there were a few tendrils of flowering buds, but you could see the beginnings of grape bunches along the vine and metal, bright green and small.

And, as mentioned earlier, the bench kept two seated and not much else. You slid a nearby iron table by the bench, and gestured to Taichi to place the tray down. He did so.

When you sat you brushed against Taichi’s thigh, and huffed out a sigh. “I work out here all the time but I keep forgetting how easy it is to get winded.”

“Yeah,” Taichi said. He took a big gulp of lemonade.

“Tough work, right? It’s really not as fun as it looks. You know you don’t have to garden with me. I’m sure it’s not much of a fun date idea, and I’m kind of gross right now but if you just want to hang out inside-”

“Nope! It’s fine! I’m totally fine!” He finished the lemonade and immediately started pouring himself another serving. “I can handle it! Yep! No issues here!”

Your eyes lowered as you looked down at a cobblestone path and the greenery rising from between the cracks. “Okay. But you’d tell me if you don’t like it, okay? You’re really quiet today.”

“D-don’t worry about it! It’s not that important...”

“But you know me. I’m horrible at not worrying.” You held the hand resting in his lap. “Whatever it is, I’ll help you through it. I promise I won’t judge you, and if you just need to talk about it, I’m available too-”

Taichi blurted out, “It’s because you’re hot.”

Whatever you were thinking, it dissolved into nothing as your mind went blank. Taichi slapped a hand over his mouth and averted his eyes. You stared at the ground harder.

“I’m what?” You finally asked, still in disbelief.

Taichi’s voice was muffled through his hand. “‘S b’cus mure hot.”

HUH??? You thought.

“Huh?” You said.

“You're hot! I’m sorry!”

Your face blossomed bright red. “Th-th-thank you? I- um? Thanks? Er, why are you apologizing? Did I do something wrong-“

“No! No! You’re fine. It’s me. That was weird, I’m sorry-“

“It’s alright, I’m…” you smacked your mouth, hoping the dryness would fade and you’d make a coherent sentence. “…Just taken aback?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was really out of line-“

“It’s okay? I’m not against it. I’ve just never… thought of myself as…” You cleared your throat. “No one’s ever told me that.”

“But you are.”

“I mean, not really. Not compared to other people.”

“Really? Never? Reader-“ Taichi grabbed your hand with both of his. “Reader, you definitely are.”

“But I scare everyone I meet.”

“But you’re the sweetest person I know.” He squeezed your hand. Your heart jumped. “You’re so pretty. I love you.”

You turned to face him, your head still spinning. “You’re serious? You really mean that?”

“I mean it.” He closed the distance and pressed a kiss to your hair. “I love you.”

Another on your forehead. “I love you!”

Nose. “I-“

Cheek. “Love-“

And Taichi held your warm face in his hand with an even warmer smile, and the last word, your name, on his tongue until you took it from him with lemon on your lips.

You were no good with words, but touch made it easier. Your hand trailed along his shoulder, barely hovering over bare skin brushing, shiny and sticky under the sun. Quiet support; I trust you. His lips moved in tandem with yours, soft and fond and appreciative. Tart, but traces of sugar clung to his breath. Poetic, hm? He was sweet on you, so open to everything that made you his Reader from your flaws to your strengths, and the type of person to welcome those attributes without question.

You took his bottom lip between yours and gently nibbled as he ran his hand through your hair and brought you closer. You continued wrapping around his lip and his hand tightened, clutching onto you like you were all he needed, and you fell in love all over again. I couldn’t have done it without you.

When you ran out of breath, you rested your forehead against his, eyes still closed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, so light and quiet, like simply speaking would break the calm. “Thank you for letting me love you.”

It’s late when you leave the karaoke club, red-faced with exertion and your hoarse voice begging you to stop, but your smile stretches to either side of your face, constantly trying to widen more than it can as you laugh.

Because it’s late, and karaoke gets you in a devil-may-care state of mind, and, well, Taichi is holding your hand, with your palm untouched but his fingers laced between yours, loose between the knuckles but refusing to break away.

It’s so amazing that he still makes you feel like this. Time has passed. The novelty of a relationship must’ve died down long ago, you’re sure of it now, and it’s no secret your feelings are reciprocated, but it’s something in the bounce in his step and the sunshine underneath his voice and the glitter in his eyes that makes your breath threaten to hitch every time he calls your name.

You’ve said it so often, but it never ceases to amaze you. This is love. This is love!

“It’s love!” You tug Taichi close to you, and bump against his arm with your own. “I love you.”

“Wh-! You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere, you’re going to make me blush!”

As if he wasn’t already. The lighting is dim on this street, but his voice is slightly shaky. You can tell. You drown in it every day you see his face.

Unfortunate, really. If you weren’t so immersed in it all, you would’ve noticed them approach before the leader did.

A young man stood before you, maybe a year or two older than you. His pullover hoodie covered his hair and left his face in a dramatic shadow. Classic look, but frankly, you thought, if you’ve seen one delinquent in a hoodie, you’ve seen them all, and yes, these were delinquents. You can tell by how he looked you up and down with a smug leer.

“Oi, it’s the giant from O High,” he called out. You instinctively moved one foot forward, and held an arm out to block him from Taichi. “You got some nerve stepping on our turf.”

“I’m going home,” you said.

“Should’ve gone a different route.”

“I go where I want. Leave us alone.”

“Look, we’ve got a tough guy!” The leader threw his head back like it was a joke. The hood slipped off his head. “I’ll leave you alone if you pay for trespassing on our territory. Sound good?”

You scanned the street with the corner of your eye. It was a small gang of delinquents, an even five including the leader, all eyes on you like a rat in a cage.

Taichi murmured into your ear. “Are you okay with this, Reader? What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing yet. I’ve got this. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Shut the hell up already. Give me your money, or it’ll go to your hospital bills once I’m done with you.” The delinquent sneered, black hair falling into his face, and then looked down at Taichi. “I’m talking to your little boy toy too.”

You didn’t even think as your gaze went dagger-sharp and steely, and stepped forward once again. “Don’t you talk to him like that.”

He shoved you back. You stumbled. “Awww. Did I hurt your feelings? What’re you gonna do about it-”

Taichi dropped low and swept the fucking leg.

While you regained your balance, the leader sure as hell didn’t. His ankle buckled and sent him to careening to the pavement while Taichi rose. “Reader, behind you!”

Your body moved before your mouth did, and you smashed a fist into one of the goons now approaching. “Taichi, what the fuck.”

He sent another kick up to the sky this time with a loud smack of rubber against flesh. You dodged the delinquent that staggered from the blow and toppled right next to you. “I learned kung fu for Chan in Mantou Fist!”

Goon #3, an ugly dog with chapped lips, tried to take advantage and hit you while you sidestepped, and you went on the defensive. “Taichi, what the fuck!”

“It was for acting!” Goon #3 landed a blow to your shoulder. A heavy thrumming pain spread across your arm as you hissed through clenched teeth. “I have an excuse!”

He dove to avoid a tackle from the biggest punk, then stuck a foot out to trip him. Hilariously, it worked. You swiped Goon #3 into Goon #5 and they both floundered as they smacked into each other. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it!”

You spun on your heel to watch Taichi knee his opponent, and the leader slam you down. You sprawled onto the pavement, fresh blood searing against your back. Strands of black hair broke your vision as he pulled back and punched, over and over again, as you grappled and tried to throw him off.

You flung yourself to the side, disorienting him enough to kick him in the shin just before he shoved you aside. While you regained your bearings and stood, he did as well, and spat on the ground.

Wordless punch to his face. You didn’t like to fight, and maybe everyone kept challenging you because you aimed for the face, but nothing quite gets the point of ‘leave me alone’ across quite like a crushed moneymaker.

Someone behind you grabbed at your hair and sent you teetering back like a chair on its hind legs. You thrashed, but long nails kept you restrained while he charged a punch. “Get away from me!”

A flash of red and royal blue crossed your sight and twisted the bully’s arm. With his free hand, Taichi swiveled. Quick backhand to the face, hard chop to the hip, then he threw another kick, this one a blow against the leader’s stomach that knocked the air out of him. He bought you enough time to finally break free, and you threw a hook to your assailant. She held the nose you struck, and gave you the opportunity to fling her into the pile of Goons #3 and #5 just as they were reorienting themselves.

You ran to help Taichi, currently in a heated dodging stalemate with the leader, before the big guy threw himself at you. You cried out as he pinned you, and kneed his groin just as you fell to the floor. You swallowed down the stinging of the cuts on your knuckles, and slammed two punches to his chest, hoping it was enough to keep him down as you returned your focus to the lone bully remaining.

The leader huffed as he shot one, two punches out, retract, one, two punches. Taichi found himself in a pattern- left, right, sidestep, left right, sidestep, left, right, sidestep. He was getting tired, but so was the punk. It was stamina. He wasn’t muscular or beefy or really all that tough, but he was athletic, he’s worked hard, he can do stamina.

Left, right, sidestep. Left, right, sidestep. Left, right-

“Guhh,” Taichi gasped, pain blossoming from his side.

The wild look in the leader’s eyes went bloodthirsty, but he was slow returning his fist, and in a rush of now-or-never Taichi drew forward and shoved him away-

Just as Reader body-checked him into the bush on the other side of the sidewalk.

Taichi slapped a hand over his mouth on instinct. The shock was starting to set in as he watched you stumble to your feet, shaking out your head and bouncing on your feet as you stood tall.

A groan sounded from the hedge, but you snatched his hand before he could ask any of the questions spinning through his head. “We need to go.”

“Wo-rd?” His voice cracked. Damn. The most cinematic moment of his life and his voice cracked as he started to run.

“We’re going!” You broke into a sprint, and led him away from the faded light of the street.

You only stopped running when you ran into a gas station door. Literally. Like, you ran into the door expecting it to be a push, and nearly fell over as you realized moments too late it was a pull when you crashed into the glass with a hefty thump.

Taichi squeaked and pulled the door open as you shook off the incoming bruise. His breath was short and heavy, and you couldn’t blame him even if you wanted; your adrenaline was dying down, and the blunt soreness was already starting to set in. The clerk at the counter cast a strange look at you and Taichi as you held onto each other like crutches, and likely with a few bruises formed.

“What?” Taichi asked, his voice spacious and confused. He followed you as you strode down the first aid isle like a lost puppy. “What just happened?”

“I-” You grabbed a pack of band-aids and some painkillers. “It was self-defense. Either we defended ourselves or they beat and steal from us.”

“I know that! I know that. But what-” you ordered two all-day breakfast tacos, one Icee and one Coke. He continued as you paid. “Does that happen to you often?”

“Yeah,” You said. Forlornness settled in your face as you ordered an Uber on your phone. “It does. People think I’m some wannabe delinquent because I’m so big and tough and because I’m such an introvert.”

“Was that what happened?”

“They jumped us.”

“Honesty, Reader. Please. I recognized them from O High.” You and Taichi leaned on a wall as you gave him one of the tacos and the Coke. Dead fluorescent light highlighted the shadows on his face and the scrapes on your knuckles. “I see them skipping class all the time. Were they trying to mess with you?”

“...I didn’t recognize any features. But you’re sure? They must’ve followed me.” Your face fell. “I’m sorry about this.” You reached a hand out to hold him, but the overhead lights highlighted the not-quite-dry blood on your hand.

So you retracted it. Touch was easier than words, but- but- but you didn’t protect Taichi. How do you apologize for something so horrible?

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice wet. Tears prickled in your eyes and caught onto your lashes, but didn’t give you the solace of falling. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I-I’m sorry.”

You returned home quietly, Taichi in tow, and led him to your bed while you gathered more first aid supplies and ice packs.

“It’s not that bad- ah!” You placed an ice pack over the bruise on Taichi’s side. “Cold!”

“It is that bad,” you said. “Ignoring even minor injuries deteriorates your health.”

“I can take care of it myself. You haven’t even looked at yourself, but you’re way more bruised than me.”

“But this is…” You licked your lips, hoping it’d rehydrate your dry mouth. “It’s normal for me. But was this your first fight?”

“Yes,” Taichi said.

“Don’t make it a habit.” You held his face, searching for cuts. “It’s not good for you. You see someone roll up their sleeves to fight you, you turn around and run. You understand me?”

“But they were going to hurt you.”

“But I don’t want them to hurt you.” Your lip trembled. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you. You haven’t done anything to warrant that, and you don’t deserve to get hurt, and no one is allowed to hurt you.”

“But what about you?” Taichi countered.

“People’ve wanted to punch me out for so long now. I’m used to it.”

“But you don’t deserve that either!” Taichi cried, then hushed after he remembered the late hour. “It doesn’t even matter that I don’t want to see you get hurt, because you as a person don’t deserve to get hurt.” He took your right hand off his cheek, looked at it, and reached for the box of band-aids. “You do this thing where you constantly put yourself down for the sake of following what everyone else says, even though the ‘everyone else’ that you listen to are all just bullies and deadbeats.”

He dug into your box of medicine, and fished out a bottle and some cotton. “You fell on concrete. Let me clean your scratches.”

A single nod from you, and he went to work wordlessly, the quiet only interrupted by your occasional hisses as the alcohol sunk into your tissue.

Then he dug into your box of medicine and pulled out an ointment buried deep within. “This prevents infections.”

“You know a lot about first aid,” you observed, not quite courageous to say anything else.

It was the first time since the fight that you saw him smile, small but focused, as he held your hand and lightly applied the ointment along the web of scratches. “I don’t act like it often, but I’m still a big brother. I take care of people.”

“That’s kind.”

“I guess it is. I spend so much time caring for other people that it becomes second nature.” He wrapped gauze around the hand next. You didn’t even know you had gauze. “Wait, first nature. I get it mixed up all the time. But the point is that if I see someone I love in trouble, I want to help, simple as that.

“Researching kung fu was for role study, really. But really learning the techniques and moves, and then putting them on stage, it was…” He struggled to find the word. “It felt like what I was doing was right. You know? I’ve spent so much time surrounded by my friends who are the toughest guys I know, and my siblings who are learning to stop crying when they get hurt, and you, someone who is so strong and patient, that I realized how out of my league everyone was compared to me.

“I didn’t realize until after learning how to fight that it made me feel like I can help people before they need it. It’s prevention.” He tied off the gauze, and inspected your hand. When he couldn’t identify any more cuts, he pressed his lips to your fingers, careful not to touch the injury, and started the process all over again on your left.

“Fighting isn’t something to look forward to.”

“It’s not like I want to. I was scared when that guy was getting up in your business. And when I realized you were about to throw hands? Terrified. I realized then and there they were going to hit you if I didn’t hit first.”

“So you hit first,” you said.

“Well, I say first, but it was really second.” He laughed a broken little laugh. “I know you don’t want to see me in danger, but the feeling’s mutual. I know I can’t always be there whenever someone tries to fight you- and it was my first fight- but it still hurts me to see you hurt.” He held your fingers to his lips again, and kissed properly this time, a small chu as he parted. “So if I can ever be there when you need me, I’ll help you. Because that’s love, and- and that’s because I love you.”

“Okay.” Your voice broke. Taichi was about to let go of your hand, but repositioned to squeeze. “Okay.” Impossible tears ran down your face, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Taichi?”

“I’m here,” he said. His voice was quivering, too. “I’m here. I’m here.”

For the first time ever, you let your guard down in its entirety. You let out an ugly sob. Two arms wrapped around you tight, and when you hiccupped you could feel his body gasp and weep, and so you only sobbed louder. “I love you.”

❖ bonus ❖

“Thank you for watching!”

You’ve heard of thunderous applause, but this had to be a hurricane. Was it the audience size? Was it truly such a brilliant play? Both, probably. You settled on both, but if anyone asked, it was the latter.

The point was, even after the audience filed out of Mankai Theater, the clapping trailed behind you and through your head as you fought the current of people.

You were big, of course, and usually all these people would make you anxious, but you were more nervous about the bouquet in your hands staying safe than anything else as you held it over your head and weaved through the playgoers.

Taichi gave you instructions on where to find the dressing room, and you internally recited it like a pledge. Back wall, left corridor, turn left and it’s on your right. Back wall, left corridor, turn left and it’s on your right. Back wall, left corridor, turn left and it’s on your- found it!

You knocked on the door a healthy two times. Normal people knock twice, right?

You twitched. Fixed your jacket. Then stood up chest out and back straight, refusing to fidget and refusing to slouch.

Then you knocked one extra time. No one can blame you, okay? Three is a round and nice number.

But doesn’t it just seem like two knocks and one weird knock? There were zero signs of the door opening. You cleared your throat, fixed your jacket again, and knocked three times.

Just as you lifted your hand from the final knock the door swung open, and you yelped a little bit.

“Mankai Company! Who am I…”

The woman on the other side tilted her head up slowly. Her big pink eyes went even bigger. “Can I. Um. Do you need anything?”

You bowed way deeper than you should have, and shouted, “Hello, I’m Reader, I’m here to see Taichi and congratulate everyone on a show well done!”

You rose with a bit of an embarrassed blush, but simply refused to be apologetic about your fast speech. Not right now, at least.

“Alright? Um. Be right back!” The lady slammed the door.

You wondered if this was another Yuki situation. What if that lady was Taichi’s best friend in the whole company-

You lightly smacked your cheek with your free hand. Dammit, Reader, you’ve already gone through this once! If you can handle a judgmental middle schooler you can handle a grown woman!

…That still didn’t prevent you from being a nervous ball of tension all the way until the door opened.

“You got beef with Mankai Company- oh. It’s you.” Juza, still in his stage costume, stood in the threshold. “Good to see you again, Reader.”

“The- the pleasure is all mine!”

“I like your flowers.”

“Thank you! I grew them myself!”

“Come inside.”

At least it was Juza on the other side of the door. You might be treading into unknown waters, but his familiar face made you feel a little calmer.

He led you through a turn in the corridor to a combination green room and dressing room area. A swathe of people- actors, you presumed- congregated here. You recognized Autumn Troupe in their costumes, and Yuki in the corner, but you could already place faces you’ve never seen to stories Taichi loved to tell about his family, the bleached blond guy next to Yuki being one of them, and another, the foreigner in the middle of a strangely captivating dance.

Then you made eye contact, and you could see Taichi’s gaze melt in real time.

“Guys.” Juza cleared his throat. “We have a guest.”

You placed your bouquet on the table beside Taichi, the glass vase lightly clunking against the surface. Your autumn harvest has been kind, and rows of various blossoms poured through the vase, all in shades of red, yellow, and orange. Sweeping stems of fern divided the tiger lilies from snapdragons, but most notable of all were the pansies that lined the majority of the arrangement, all in blended shades of wildfire red and yellow.

You met Taichi’s eyes again. His pinky wrapped around your hand, an unspoken I’m here.

So you breathed in, exhaled, and spoke. “Congratulations, everyone, the show was great. I’ve been told you’ve heard a lot about me? My name is Reader.”

You scanned the room, and wrapped your pinky around Taichi’s.

And then, you didn’t even think about it, but your smile shined. “It’s a pleasure to meet everyone!” 🍒