#partially because of sleep deprivation

[daily-whistlebreeze]

daily whistlepaw until ah becomes PoV day 1167

I think I finally understand how people feel when around a crush, can't say I enjoy it

[hungergameshyperfixation]

Day five since SotR was announced

How we feeling everyone

[kresnikcest]

i just think that the kresniks' best attributes aside from the "so devoted to this one person i'm gonna murder everyone for it" thing is the "projecting a dead loved one onto their immediate relative with odd accompanying subtext as a result" thing

[sabrirene]

feeling insane might start messaging people i shouldnt

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

No but like what is his problem? What does he want from me? How the fuck am I meant to give a shit about papyrus when he just posted those pictures of himself? Hello?????? Actually ruining my fucking life.

[darkmatilda]

𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend decides he’s going to start calling you a cute pet name, but the problem is, none of them seem to suit you perfectly

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: glasses reid x baumember!female reader, so sweet you'll puke, case in the background, unsub is abducting elderly people, text messages, reader is kinda clingy, use of y/n because i had to

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling <33 sorry if it ended up a bit too long again, but im starting to suspect that im physically incapable of writing a drabble lmao

"I'm tired. When will this week be over?"

"It's 9:13 on Monday."

With a groan, you leaned back against the seat in the corner of the jet, feeling the caffeine craving slowly take control of your body. 

"Just the thought of going to sleep sends intense shivers through me, caused by a heart-wrenching longing, and heavy tears slowly start gathering in my eyes," you complained, resting your head to the side.

Slightly turned, so you could look at Spencer sitting right next to you. His eyes, behind his glasses, also seemed a little tired, though he didn't manifest it as loudly. When you sat down next to him, he partially closed the book he was reading and rested it against the edge of the table in front of him.

"When you're sleep-deprived, you tend to get a bit dramatic," he pointed out in an analyzing tone, though you could catch a slight twitch at the corners of his lips.

"It's not drama, silly. It's the personification of pure exhaustion speaking through my lips."

"I love it when you try to argue with me and end up agreeing with me."

"You just love being right, don't you, smarty?" you huffed. "You love me too, but that's just a side note."

"Oh, now you're teasing. That's good. Means the sleepiness is wearing off," he diagnosed.

Sometimes you were genuinely amazed by how well he knew you, despite being together for such a short time—though maybe you shouldn’t have been. He was a profiler, just like you. Both of you were exceptionally good at reading each other, picking up on moods and small, everyday habits. You used to worry a little that this might make your relationship boring, stripped of surprises. But you quickly realized there’s nothing more captivating than another mind that matches your own and deeply understands its struggles. And sometimes, that feeling itself was a pleasant surprise.

"Next weekend, we're not going anywhere, okay?" you asked in a dreamy tone. The day before, you’d gotten back way too late, which was mostly to blame for your sleepiness. "Not even out of bed."

A look crossed Reid's face, somewhere between eagerness and a grimace.

"I’d love to," he assured with a genuine sigh, but then quickly added, "But I’m afraid I’ve already got something planned."

You tried to keep up the facade of your role, not showing too much excitement. You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"I'm starting to suspect you have plans for every weekend for the rest of our lives."

"Actually, just for the next fourteen weeks," he admitted with a slight shrug, as if it wasn’t anything to be impressed by.

You weren’t sure if he was joking, and you didn’t get the chance to find out.

"Hey, lovebirds," Morgan called from the other end of the jet, where the whole team was gathered around a small table, ready to start discussing the case. "We're waiting for you."

For a while, you kept it a secret from them that you were starting to expect, but eventually, you had to come clean. Especially when Penelope, who knew everything, started taking every chance to send you suggestive glances or drop not-so-subtle comments. The rest of the team’s reaction wasn’t particularly emotional. They didn’t start screaming in surprise or jumping up and down in disbelief. They were profilers—they had figured it out. But they had enough decency to wait until you told them yourselves. No hard feelings, sweet Penelope.

You took the empty seat next to Gideon, right across from your boss and JJ. Reid settled into a chair on the side, where Morgan immediately poked him with his elbow.

"So, how’s it going in love land today?" Morgan asked, smirking. "Are puppies falling from the sky, and is it going to rain hearts this afternoon?"

You’d gotten so used to these kinds of jabs that, in perfect sync, you both rolled your eyes and opened your mouths to defend yourselves. It wasn’t like you two were constantly all lovey-dovey, exchanging kisses and holding hands at every chance! Morgan just loved to tease you, knowing how much it irked both of you when someone accused you of being unprofessional.

“Take it easy, it’s just the honeymoon phase," Gideon warned, not even looking at you as he adjusted his small square glasses, focusing instead on the folder in front of him. "You grow out of it."

On the laptop screen, Garcia’s face appeared, complete with an orange rose headband in her blonde hair.

"Well, hello there, babygirl," Derek greeted her, a small smile spreading across his lips.

"Hello, you charming, sweet, handsome thing…

Hotch exchanged a knowing look with Gideon.

“As you can see, not always," he muttered under his breath so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. JJ, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, briefly lowered her amused gaze, trying to hold back a smile. "Shall we get started?"

The atmosphere shifted instantly, as if with the snap of fingers, when you began discussing the case. This time, it was a series of murders targeting men around the age of seventy-four.

"Are we sure this is the work of a serial killer?" Derek asked, his earlier light tone replaced with focus and seriousness. "I mean, looking at it, these guys don’t have much in common aside from their age."

“They’re all from the same area,” you noted, flipping through the victims' files. “But yeah, they don’t have much else in common. Different jobs, some married, some not…you think age is the reason the unsub picked them?”

“Looks that way,” Hotch said.

“About two weeks ago, his granddaughter reported him missing,” JJ informed you, pointing to a photo of an older man. “Ben Murphy, seventy-six years old. He’s from the same area, and all signs point to him being the unsub’s next victim. Each of the victims was held for an estimated three weeks, so there’s a good… a good chance he’s still alive.”

A brief silence settled over the room, heavy with the pressure of time.

“But why keep them alive for that long?” Spencer muttered, his brow furrowed in thought. “None of the bodies show signs of physical torture. They were killed with a lethal dose of insulin. If he chose that method, it doesn’t seem like he wanted to hurt them directly. The motive…the motive is unclear.”

The rest of the discussion revolved around trying to find connections and similarities to other crimes you were all familiar with, but you didn’t come up with anything groundbreaking that would significantly push the investigation forward. However, this didn’t stress you. You were just heading to the place where everything had taken place; you hadn't yet spoken to the victims' families, which often turned out to be crucial.

Just before the jet landed, you found yourself next to Reid, resting your elbow on his shoulder like it was some kind of convenient armrest while you pondered which card to discard from the ones laid out by JJ. This position made it much easier for him to sneak peeks at your cards, which he took full advantage of whenever he thought you weren’t looking (you were looking), so you had to hold them in a very awkward way to prevent him from seeing.

“C’mon,” JJ urged, as the time you were taking to think started to drag on.

You bit your lip.

“Easy for you to say. You’re winning,” you huffed, to which she flashed you a confident smile. “Great minds need time to come up with a solution. Right, Spence?”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head slightly.

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes…”

"Ugh, I wanted you to defend me, you silly..."

“Guys, do you know what I’ve been thinking?” Morgan appeared above you, pulling his headphones off his head.

“Scientists haven’t figured out a way to peek into other people’s thoughts yet,” Reid answered him, staring at the card you had just discarded and raising an eyebrow. Seriously? You shrugged. You knew it was a pitifully bad move. “So no, we don’t, Morgan.”

“I went over the case files again…” Derek continued, completely ignoring the ironic comment from his friend. “Mr. Murphy went missing right after a date with his wife…”

“...And may I ask why you’re sharing this incredibly sad fact with us?” you interjected.

“They went to the botanical garden,” Derek continued.  Everyone stopped, staring at him with completely baffled expressions. “Then they hit up the American Revolution Museum. And I couldn’t help but think of you two. Sounds like the perfect date for you, right?”

You were the first to react, rolling your eyes dramatically. You placed your cards face down in front of you, then rested both hands on Reid's shoulder, leaning your chin on them. You let out a long sigh.

"Can we get just one day without fighting off the nerd allegations?"

"Hey, I'm not mocking you," Morgan said, raising both hands in the air. "Just pointing it out. So, what did you two get up to over the weekend?"

Reid turned his face slightly toward you, exchanging a look. Given how you were positioned, the frame of his glasses lightly brushed your forehead. Well, if you answered your teammate's question honestly, you’d be proving him absolutely right. Before you could manage to turn the question back on him, you were preempted.

"We went up to the hill to try and watch the meteor shower," Reid answered, sticking to the truth. Morgan tilted his head, staring at both of you with interest. "But the sky ended up being too cloudy, so we ended up finding a night exhibit at the museum about space..."

You could see the victorious expression slowly spreading across Derek's face.

"You’re sinking us, silly," you muttered into your boyfriend's arm.

"She's right, silly," Morgan echoed the nickname with exaggerated emphasis. "Anyway, I won’t bother you any longer. Enjoy your game. Oh, and by the way, JJ peeked at your cards when you weren’t looking…"

 "JJ!"

 "That’s a lie—"

"Did he really come over here just to compare us to a pair of retirees?" Reid wondered, watching Derek walk away.

"And to expose a cheater," you added, shooting a look at your friend across the table. You’d lifted your chin from Reid’s shoulder, but your hand still rested there, your fingertips lightly brushing against him—not that you even noticed. Did that even count as touching?

You pointed at JJ with determination. "We’re starting over."

"We’re about to land," she noted, placing her cards on the table and revealing her hand. "So I’ll let it go. But you’re getting your rematch, trust me."

 "Oh, I can’t wait."

She walked off, leaving the two of you alone in the corner of the jet. You noticed Reid had been watching you for a while, his expression unreadable. When you finally caught on and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he just shrugged and gathered the cards from the table. His fingers shuffled them with effortless precision, the motion smooth and almost hypnotic.

You shook your head, tearing your gaze away from the cards and focusing on his face again.

“What thoughts are you hiding in that brilliant mind of yours, smarty?”

“Those exactly,” he replied almost immediately. He fell silent for a moment as he tucked the cards back into the box. You watched him closely, curiosity piqued, waiting to hear what he’d say next because you didn’t fully understand his response.

“You always call me something,” he added after a pause. “You know…”

“Pet name,” you supplied the term he was missing.

He nodded, and you stayed quiet for a brief moment, wondering if you really used them that often. You’d never given it much thought—they just slipped out naturally when you were teasing him. He’d never reacted to them before, and it had never even crossed your mind that it might cause him any discomfort.

Your expression grew a bit more serious as you shifted in your seat to face him directly.

“Does…does it bother you? Because, you know, if it does…”

“No!” he denied quickly, a faint hint of embarrassment flashing across his face, as if wondering whether he’d been too eager. He shifted into a calmer expression, letting out a small sigh. “No, that’s really not it. Actually…I like them. I like when you use them.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as he admitted it. But the question still lingered in your mind—if that wasn’t it, then what was?

"I just realized…" he continued slowly, with a hint of hesitation. You noticed that both of you had lowered your voices compared to the lively chatter during the card game. It was as if, unintentionally, you'd created a small bubble, separating this moment from the rest of the team.

You liked his whisper. Sometimes, it felt stronger than his regular voice, mostly because whenever he lowered it, it was usually tied to some genuine emotion.

"That I never use them myself. I mean, I don’t call you anything other than your name."

"I don’t…I don’t expect that from you."

"I know. I know, it’s not like I thought you were expecting it. I just started wondering if maybe you'd like me to... to start doing it too. I admit, it’s not something I’m used to—"

"If you’re comfortable with it," you interrupted him without meaning to, feeling the need to emphasize it. Until now, it hadn’t mattered how he addressed you; it didn’t bother you when it was just your name. After all, hey, it’s not really the most important thing in a relationship. But when he suggested it, you felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "I’m serious, Spence. Don’t force yourself if it feels unnatural," you added, slowing down a bit, feeling the slight tremor in the corner of your lips. You noticed how his brow furrowed slightly when he caught that movement. Usually, it meant there was an idea forming in your head, and this time, it was no different. "But if you really want to…you should know I have some requirements in this area."

"Requirements?" he repeated, sounding confused, as if he thought he misheard. "Sorry, but what kind of requirements could you possibly have when it comes to pet names?"

“Oh, you have no idea how many,” you scoffed, leaning slightly toward him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. Reid blinked, clearly both curious and a bit apprehensive. “I know you, your mind... so I guess you shouldn’t be surprised that I’m expecting you to be creative. I mean no babe. No honey. 

Spencer stared at you for a moment, a look of disbelief crossing his face, before he let out a soft laugh.

"Alright, I’ve got it. No babe, no honey. Anything else to add to your list of demands?"

"Hmm, let me think," you murmured, to which he rolled his eyes. You didn't actually have anything else in mind; you just wanted to keep him in that state of uncertainty. But then, an additional thought occurred to you. "Oh, I know. It has to really fit with me. And with you. I want using it to come as naturally to you as possible. And I don't want you complaining to Penelope later, saying I forced you into it."

"Seriously, do you think I'd complain about you to Penelope behind your back?" he asked, pretending to be offended. He shook his head as if disappointed. "It's obvious I go straight to Morgan with stuff like this..."

You lightly tapped his arm.

"Is everything clear?" you made sure to ask, keeping your hand on his shoulder.

He glanced at your hand briefly before nodding.

"As clear as the sun. Has to be original and fit," he recited the two demands in their briefest form. He left his mouth slightly open, as if he wanted to add something, as if he was about to come up with the perfect nickname, but clearly, he hadn’t thought of one yet. He let out a short sigh of surrender. "This...this might take a while."

"Take your time, babe."

"Hey, you said we're not using that..."

"I only said you’re not using that”

"So what’s the point of giving me all these demands when..."

You both fell silent only when the jet neared its landing.

*

Working on the case had put a bit of distance between you. Well, it wasn’t unusual—there were often plenty of witnesses to interview, multiple locations to visit or search, and the team simply had to split up. Whenever Hotch assigned you somewhere, he always paired you up in the most complementary way possible, ensuring that your skills and experience balanced each other out. As the youngest members, relying more on brains than brawn, you and Reid rarely ended up partnered together.

And this time was no different.

You sat in the front seat of the car beside Gideon, who was driving. The two of you were headed to one of the victims' homes in silence, and you used the moment to glance at your phone—only to spot a message from none other than Reid.

spence: I’ve been thinking about what we talked about on the jet, and I think I have a few suggestions that meet all of your conditions.

spence: Sorry for texting, but I’m not sure if we’ll get a chance to see each other today, and I wanted to tell you that.

y/n: tell me

y/n: i mean u should be thinking about the case rn not about me

y/n: but i’m just gonna assume ur brain is multitasking enough to do both

spence: Because it is.

y/n: wow so humble

y/n: so???

y/n: what’s with the pet names

y/n: surprise me, genius

spence: Sorry, I don’t have time to write proper explanations for all of them or explain why I think they suit you.

spence: But a few of them are love, dear, darling.

y/n: sweet, but kinda basic

y/n: anyway up to you

y/n: u’ll be the one saying them

spence: Yeah, but you’ll be the one called them, and it has to be something you like. What do you think?

spence: Maybe something less typical like pumpkin

y/n: pumpkin HAHAHA

spence: ?

y/n: sry, i just can’t picture u saying that out loud

y/n: u browsing some top 100 pet names for ur gf site rn?

spence: No

y/n: i’m telling garcia to check ur browsing history, silly

y/n: don’t even delete it she’ll find it anyway

spence: I admit, pumpkin is awful

spence: I really like daisy, but i know you're allergic to pollen

y/n: how do u know i’m allergic to pollen?

spence: 👍🏼

It was truly an exhausting yet enlightening response. Anyway, you didn’t dwell on it too much. Sometimes he just knew. Together with Gideon, you had already arrived at the right address, so you shoved your phone back into your pocket and got ready to get back to work.

*

The words we are ready to deliver the profile were a milestone in every case you worked on.

They marked a gathering of the entire team, where you would collectively organize the information you had gathered during the investigation. Together, you had managed to uncover the unsub’s identity, but there was still the task of determining their motive and locating where they might be holding their still, as you hoped, victim. 

"The unsub spent most of his life caring for his severely ill, mentally abusive grandfather, of whom he was the only relative, which is why he now targets victims of a similar age," Derek began, crossing his arms over his chest. "He holds them for twenty-three days, mirroring the twenty-three years he dedicated to caring for him."

"He sees it as lost time, wasted. He never finished school, he was socially withdrawn. By repeating the same pattern with his victims, he believes he's getting something back," explained Reid, standing beside you, tapping one hand thoughtfully.

"This is all we have,” you muttered under your breath. ‘But we're missing the most important thing. Where is he? Where is he holding this man?”

“Garcia is working on that,” Hotch reassured you, pressing his finger to the earpiece.

“Give... give me some time,” Penelope asked in a distant tone, drowned out by the sound of keys being pressed rapidly. “ I think I have something... I need to check...ugh, fifteen minutes!”

After those words, she fell silent, leaving you all in anticipation. With a sigh, you crossed your arms over your chest, hoping she would find something. Reid stood by your side, slightly separated from the rest. Yet when he spoke, he lowered his voice to a murmur.

You stepped closer to hear him better.

"Vivi," he said softly.

You frowned at him, and his gaze hesitantly met yours—but once it did, it refused to let go.

"From the Latin vivus," he explained. "Full of life, vibrant."

You remained silent for a moment, savoring the echo his words left behind and the look on his face—just a hint of uncertainty creeping in as he waited for your reaction. If it weren’t for the fact that your team members were bustling around and the circumstances weren’t exactly romantic, you might have slipped under his arm. Instead, you settled for a small, sweet smile.

"That’s really pretty, Spence," you admitted, catching the faint shimmer in his dark eyes. "You think it suits me? Do you like it?"

He nodded slowly. You couldn't shake the feeling that something didn’t quite fit, that it didn’t sound natural coming from him. Maybe it was just your imagination? Or perhaps he was distracted, lost in more important thoughts while you were bothering him with pet names? You didn’t really have time to figure that out. At that moment, Garcia’s raised voice cut through the line, announcing that she might know where the unsub is holding his victim.

In the next moment, you were already on your way to the given address, listening to instructions on how to get inside without causing harm to the elderly man being held captive. When you and Reid reached him, he was loosely tied to a chair with rope, his head hanging limp against his chest. You crouched beside him, checking his pulse. It seemed like a simple loss of consciousness, likely caused by the stress and exhaustion of being held captive for over two weeks.

"Untie him," you said automatically to Reid, even though he had already started doing it before you spoke. "Can you hear me, sir? Damn it, I think we’ll need an ambulance..."

"Since when do angels curse?" A hoarse, weak whisper escaped the man's throat.

You exchanged confused glances with Spencer, momentarily frozen in place. The man's temples twitched before he gently lifted his head. His gaze landed on your face, and very slowly, he began to regain full consciousness.

"I died. And you're an angel, right?" he asked.

You sighed with a certain sense of relief. He was a bit delirious, but it seemed nothing serious was wrong with him.

"Don't worry, you’re not dead, sir. Actually, you’re perfectly fine and will be home soon..."

"Whatever you say, angel."

You saw Reid, who was untying the man, try to hide a amused expression on his face. Even after two weeks spent in captivity, Mr. Murphy managed to muster a bit of stubbornness. He told the arriving paramedics that he would only get into the ambulance if the angel who freed him went with him. And since you felt really sorry for the elderly man who had been kidnapped and whose mind was a bit frail, you did it.

You didn’t get back on the jet until late at night. Throwing yourself into the seat next to Spencer, you struggled to suppress another yawn. You didn’t even realize when your temple lightly rested against his arm, but through your partially closed eyelids, you noticed him closing the book he had been reading and placing it in his lap.

"Long day, huh, angel?" he asked. His voice was soft, almost a whisper, brushing your ears as you leaned against him.

"So, you spent the whole day trying to come up with the perfect pet name and ended up just going with the one some confused old guy called me?"you asked, opening your eyes and turning your head to look at him. Or rather, from the position you were in, at his jaw. "Watch out, Spencer Reid. I might accuse you of being lazy."

"I'm not lazy," he denied. "I'm just looking for inspiration in unusual places. Besides, it fits, don't you think? Angel."

"Mhm. Lazy."

With those words, you closed your eyes again, snuggling against him more comfortably. Spencer shifted slightly in his seat, using his free hand to tuck the hair falling onto your face behind your ear.

"Sweet dreams, angel."

[crystallinestars]

Domestic Headcanons

Alternative title: Acting like a married couple. These were supposed to be sleeping and waking HCs but I went overboard so these turned out as more general domestic HCs.

Contains: fluff, domesticity, acting like a married couple while not being married, more fluff, and a giant wall of text (this is 14 pages on Word).

Jing Yuan's part was partially inspired by this video where we can see his morning routine.

Characters: Jiaoqiu, Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Argenti, and Dan Heng.

Jiaoqiu

🌶️ As a doctor, Jiaoqiu can’t help but fuss over your health. If you have a habit of staying up late at night, he will reprimand you for depriving your body of necessary sleep, especially if you have to wake up early the following day. He nags at you to set aside your phone or work and go to sleep, tail swaying side-to-side in annoyance if you don’t comply quickly enough for his liking.

🌶️ If you remain stubborn in your habits, Jiaoqiu will find a way to coax you to bed. As a healer specializing in food medicine, he knows the effects of a vast variety of herbs and spices and concocts a special blend of tea for you to drink around bedtime. It’s sweet aroma and soothing flavour help you relax enough for your exhaustion to take effect and urge you to go to bed. If you’re not a fan of tea, Jiaoqiu could whip up a cup of steamed puffergoat milk with honey to induce a similar effect or come up with another unique drink to suit your preferences.

🌶️ Aside from baiting you with consumables, Jiaoqiu also has another ace up his sleeve to get you to sleep at a decent time. You like massages, right? How about he gives you a back rub before bed? Jiaoqiu knows all the most common spots on the neck and back that tend to suffer from tension, and his skilled hands do wonders to relieve any muscle knots or discomfort that you may have in those areas. He may even give you a leg massage and a foot rub if you ask, or even a full body massage if he feels like you deserve one. Jiaoqiu enjoys watching you melt and grow drowsy from the kneading of his hands, and feels accomplished if you do end up falling asleep because of his massage.

🌶️ As fussy as Jiaoqiu could be about your bedtime, he’s much more lax with his own. Sometimes his duties to General Feixiao force him to work overtime, much to his dismay. He’d love nothing more than to spend this time cuddling with you in bed, but here he is, poring over a stack of urgent documents. He usually sends you text messages telling you he will come home late and to not wait for him but will be pleasantly surprised if you stay up late to welcome him home. He lightly chastises you for not going to bed without him but will feel touched if you say you couldn’t sleep well without him by your side. You’ll get brownie points if you cooked him dinner. It may not be on par with his own cooking, but he does appreciate you looking out for him. Besides, coming home to a warm meal after an exhausting day can do wonders for one’s mood. Jiaoqiu rewards you with a kiss and a compliment on your cooking, which is high praise coming from him.

🌶️ When it comes to sleeping, Jiaoqiu generally likes to do so while holding you close. His most preferred position is to spoon you from behind but he’s also happy to let you spoon him instead. When he holds you, he likes tucking your head under his chin and draping his fluffy tail over you, ensuring you are completely wrapped up in his arms. It’s a great position during colder temperatures, but he’ll reluctantly let you go if you get too hot.

🌶️ If you’re the one spooning him, just know that Jiaoqiu knows whenever you stroke his tail. He sometimes pretends to be asleep during your “secret” petting sessions, letting you run your hands along the soft fur before suddenly tickling your face with the tip of his tail. His stifled laughter gives away that he’s not sleeping, but he can never contain himself when he hears you squeak and sputter in surprise at getting a face-full of fur. Pranking aside, Jiaoqiu does enjoy the feeling of you lightly combing your fingers through his tail. If you do it gently enough, it can lull him into a relaxed state and even make him drowsy. You can get a similar reaction out of him by rubbing the base of his ears where the fluffy part meets his head. Rub gentle circles against the fur with your thumbs, and Jiaoqiu will turn to putty in your hands, leaning his head into your touch.

🌶️ Jiaoqiu is used to waking up early. When he was younger, he would wake up early to gather herbs to use in his cooking. Though that habit was disrupted during his time on the battlefield, he picked it back up when he ran a restaurant. Once he became Feixiao’s retainer, Jiaoqiu woke up early to cook her breakfasts since Feixiao also had a habit of getting up early to train, or to take care of some important duties. As a result, Jiaoqiu tends to wake up earlier than you. He spends a few minutes just basking in the warmth of your body, admiring how peaceful you look while asleep before slowly getting up. He’s good at being quiet so he usually slips away from you unnoticed.

🌶️ If you have to wake up for an occasion like work or a meeting, Jiaoqiu will make sure you get up on time. If you’re the type to laze around in bed for a while or hit snooze repeatedly, Jiaoqiu will be there to serve as another alarm clock and nag at you to get up. He’ll start off by gently coaxing you to wake up, trying to bribe you with comments about having made your favourite meal for breakfast. If you continue to be lazy, he’ll put on more pressure, like tugging the blankets off of you and opening the curtains to let sunlight in, chiding you about being late if you don’t get moving. Jiaoqiu’s nagging can be annoying, but he’s only doing it to look out for you. He doesn’t want you to stress about being late.

🌶️ If you have time to sleep in, by the time you wake up, you’ll be greeted to a delicious aroma of sizzling food. Jiaoqiu makes the two of you a balanced and hearty breakfast. He often goes on about the importance of a balanced diet and eating three meals a day, and will be aghast if he finds out you have a habit of skipping meals or eating poorly. He will personally make it his mission to make sure you eat three meals a day (no skipping breakfast on his watch) and that your meals are more balanced (eat your veggies!). He just worries about you, both as a doctor and your boyfriend. On the plus side, all your meals are guaranteed to be delicious.

🌶️ While Jiaoqiu waits for you to wake up, he also makes you a lunch to bring with you to work. It gives him something to do and also serves as a peace of mind knowing you’ll at least have a healthy lunch, or so he says when you ask him why he goes through so much trouble for your sake. Truth is, he just wants to do something nice for you because he loves you. Cooking for you is one of the ways he shows he cares, plus it boosts his ego to hear you compliment his cooking. If he’s in a good mood, Jiaoqiu will make cute little faces on the sausages or egg rolls, or write a message on the rice with sauce or seaweed such as “You’re doing good” or a cheesy “I love you” to brighten up your day. He’s true husband material.

🌶️ On the rare days you wake up before him, Jiaoqiu likes coming into the kitchen to find you busy cooking breakfast. As mentioned before, he appreciates you going out of your way to take care of him. He’s so used to taking care of others that he can sometimes neglect himself, so having you there to do that for him makes him fall in love with you all over again. While you’re busy at the stove, he quietly sneaks up behind you, only revealing his presence with a teasing remark about your poor cutting technique. The way you huff at him for nitpicking at your cooking skills just makes you all the more endearing to him, and Jiaoqiu hugs you from behind and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, tail swishing in joy. He may not say out loud how touched he is by your care, but he lets you know through his actions.

🌶️ Depending on your cooking skill, Jiaoqiu will either sit back and idly watch you cook with a happy grin on his face or offer to assist you. If you’re proficient in the kitchen, he will be content to watch you work and quietly anticipate the moment he gets to try your cooking since it’s not something he gets to eat often. While sampling your dish, he’ll compliment you on the things you cooked well and give feedback on what you could do to improve your method if something isn’t quite right.

🌶️ If cooking isn’t your strong suit, Jiaoqiu offers to help. Though he prefers to work alone in the kitchen, he can make an exception for you. Besides, he can use this as the perfect opportunity to teach you some cooking skills and bond with you over a shared activity. Jiaoqiu loves cooking and also loves you, so as far as he’s concerned, he’s getting a two-for-one deal. He also finds it cute the way you pay such careful attention to his instructions and try your best to carry them out, even if you still lack the skills to do it perfectly.

🌶️ Regardless of whether it’s you or him making breakfast, Jiaoqiu will be happy just to start his morning off by sharing a meal with you. There’s something domestic about cooking for each other, eating around the same table while still dressed in pajamas, and kissing each other goodbye when you both leave for work. He could get used to this, Jiaoqiu notes with a smile. Though you jokingly call him your husband now, he’d like it if that title became a reality one day.

Aventurine

🦚 Due to Aventurine’s busy schedule, it’s difficult to have a set bedtime routine. He does try to get off work on time to have a few extra hours to spend with you, but sometimes meetings run late, or he gets saddled with missions that force him apart from you, so he has no choice but to message you to let you know he’ll be coming home late. His texts are light-hearted and teasing to try and soften the news for you, but he feels guilty for being unable to spend time with you even if it’s not his fault. Aventurine only hopes you don’t hate him for being too busy to see you. He may not say it out loud, but one of his fears is you leaving him because he doesn’t make you feel loved enough. He does love you, very much so, which is why he spoils you with expensive gifts and excursions to all kinds of luxurious or VIP places, but he knows money doesn’t make up for neglected emotions.

🦚 On the nights he makes it home on time, Aventurine likes to spend his free time with you. You guys can do anything, he doesn’t have a strong preference as long as he gets to be with you. If you like, he can take you out on a date. He’s wealthy enough to land a spot at a fancy restaurant. You could dress up and let him wine and dine you, and then maybe go on a walk along one of the more scenic places belonging to the IPC.

🦚 If you’re not in the mood for something fancy, Aventurine could take you to your favorite café, the movies, or even the arcade. He certainly wouldn’t mind an opportunity to show off his luck and win you as many plushies and prizes as your heart desires. You can also test your luck against his over card or dice games at home. He’ll set some stakes to make it more fun, such as the loser having to grant the winner’s wish or pay for the next meal. If you’re in the mood for something spicy, you guys can play a few games of strip poker. He wouldn’t mind, but don’t expect him to go easy on you.

🦚 Alternatively, Aventurine is content to stay home and relax with a movie. He lets you pick what to watch since he’s not as interested in the movie as he is in you, but he delights in seeing the excited shine in your eye when you choose something you’ve been looking forward to watching. Aventurine likes it even more when you cuddle with him on the couch while watching said movie. Feeling your arms around him, your hands absentmindedly combing through his hair, and the rise and fall of your chest under his head soothes him. After a gruelling day of sifting through reports, putting on fake smiles, and making dangerous gambles to outwit his opponents, your gentle touch works wonders to help Aventurine relax. It’s not often that he feels safe and comfortable enough to let his walls come down but being enveloped by your warm and tender caresses makes him want to give in and let go for a bit. As soon as he does, his exhaustion washes over him, and Aventurine could easily fall asleep if he’s not careful. Do forgive him if he falls asleep on you during the movie session, but your presence is simply too calming for him to resist.

🦚 When it comes to sleeping in bed, things can get a bit cramped. Due to having slept in a big bed by himself for a while, Aventurine tends to sprawl his limbs out. He can unintentionally hit you with an arm or trap you in an embrace in his sleep if you’re within reach. His cat cakes also join you in bed. A couple will settle at your feet while another will sleep beside your heads. Some shameless ones will even lay on top of you as if you were their pillow. It’s not rare for you to wake up in a tangle of sheets and limbs, your attempts to break free accompanied by annoyed meows.

🦚 Despite his cocky and suave attitude, Aventurine doesn’t come onto you unless he knows you want him to, even in bed. He remains respectful of your personal space, at most allowing himself to hold your hand while you chat about your day or drape an arm around you. His heart skips a beat when you press yourself closer to him and rest your head on his chest or pull him down to lay on yours. It makes him feel a complicated type of way to be this intimate with another person, to know you want to be that close to him, and to feel so cherished by you. He’s gotten more used to receiving your affection compared to before, but it can still overwhelm him sometimes. If you pet his hair, stroke along his back, or give him kisses, it helps him relax and accept your touch. Aventurine hasn’t felt this kind of affection in a very long time, which is why he needs some time to get used to it, but he does enjoy it. He likes being pampered and held by you.

🦚 Aventurine finds that he sleeps better with you by his side. He sometimes has nightmares about his past and wakes up in a cold sweat. He doesn’t like disturbing you, but he feels relieved whenever you wake up alongside him. Just hearing your voice and feeling your touch helps ground him. Aventurine doesn’t like showing his vulnerabilities so easily, so he tends to brush off your concern and tell you to not worry. He just had a bad dream, it’s nothing for you to concern yourself with. He’s unlikely to share any details about his nightmares with you until he feels 100% comfortable with opening up and being vulnerable, but he appreciates your attempts to comfort him, nonetheless. Just feeling your warm embrace and hearing you say things are okay and that what he saw was just a dream helps him calm down and drift off back to sleep easier than when he had to deal with these feelings alone. Aventurine notes that in general, he’s been having less nightmares ever since he started sharing a bed with you. Perhaps feeling the warmth of another person by his side eases his mind on some subconscious level, or whatever other scientific explanation the Intelligentsia Guild offers on the matter. All Aventurine knows is that you bring a soothing presence into his life.

🦚 Unfortunately, Aventurine can’t spend every night wrapped up in your arms, much to his disappointment. His work requires him to travel a lot, often to carry out dangerous missions that could end with him losing his life if something went wrong. Some people would be envious of the luxurious hotels he gets to stay in for the duration of the missions, but the lavish décor and extravagant furnishing do little to fill the void in Aventurine’s heart. Despite the softness of the mattress, he tosses and turns, finding it difficult to fall asleep in the unfamiliar room and just lays awake, thinking about how he would be much happier sleeping on the floor as long as he got to hold you in his arms.

🦚 During his business trips, Aventurine likes to call you while getting ready for bed. It's an opportunity for you to catch up and find out how the other is doing. Even if all you have to share are mundane things, he wants to hear them. Just hearing you talk about your day gives him a sense of normalcy and peace, taking his mind off the demanding tasks that await him the next day. Even if you’re not much of a talker, Aventurine will find topics of interest that he knows will get you to talk just so he could hear your voice. It’s not rare for you to talk at length about something only to realize that Aventurine fell asleep on the other line because your voice lulled him to sleep. He teases you all the time about missing him, but the truth that he doesn’t want to admit is that he misses you just as much, which is why he makes these frequent phone calls. Your voice provides him with a bit of comfort and reminds him to finish his mission as quickly as possible so he can see you again.

🦚 Aventurine tends to wake up on time most mornings when he has to go to work. Some days he wakes up earlier than you if he’s got an important meeting to attend, but usually he wakes around the same time as you do. He never gave much thought to the act of getting ready in the morning, but it’s become one of the highlights of his day ever since you started living with him. Something about the act of waking up in each other’s arms, laughing if one of you tripped over a cat cake while getting out of bed, and eating breakfast at the same table is comforting. Such moments make him think of home, back when his sister was still with him. Being with you is not the same, but the feeling of contentment and happiness he feels in sharing his living space with you are similar.

🦚 Aventurine is usually good at ensuring his appearance is impeccable, but even he has moments of letting a detail slip. The first time you pointed out that his tie was crooked, he reached to adjust it, but you beat him to it, retying his tie and carefully smoothing it down. The act surprised Aventurine but he found that he liked it when you fussed over him like that. From then on, he sometimes purposely tied his tie a little crookedly just so you would adjust it for him. While your eyes are directed at the tie, Aventurine’s are fixed directly on you, his gaze softening with a subtle smile. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall in love with you more, you prove him wrong by showing your undying loyalty and care for his wellbeing. Aventurine doesn’t feel deserving of it, but he does appreciate you more than he can say. Later that day, expect to receive a bouquet of your favourite flowers and a card with an invitation to a restaurant as a thank you for helping him with the tie.

Jing Yuan

🦁 Jing Yuan tries his best to come home at a decent time, but being the Luofu General sometimes means he has to stay behind to deal with important matters for the safety of Luofu’s citizens. Such is the burden he must bear as the one with great power. He won’t blame you for going to bed without him, but he’ll be saddened about not receiving a welcoming kiss from you. If he sees you already snoozing away cuddled under the sheets, he’ll join you after going through his bedtime routine, pulling you close to him and quietly apologizing for waking you in the process. After a long and tiring day, he just wants to hold you and breathe in the comforting scent of your hair while drifting off to sleep. He doesn’t ask for much, so please grant him this simple wish.

🦁 Whenever Jing Yuan gets to go home on time, his mood is usually lifted at the prospect of having finished all work for the day and having the chance to relax at home with you. He sometimes makes a little detour to buy you some snacks for tea, already picturing in his head the tranquil moment he’ll share with you while drinking tea and eating delicious pastries fresh from a bakery.

🦁 What he loves most about coming home is being welcomed back by you and his cat. Seeing the white feline running up to the door with you following in tow as soon as he walks in is the cutest sight. Jing Yuan also developed a routine of receiving a kiss whenever he comes home, and he’ll lean down with the expectation of getting one from you. Never mind that he hasn’t taken off his shoes or jacket yet, he won’t move until he gets his kiss.

🦁 Evenings with Jing Yuan are generally lazy. He eats dinner with you while discussing the day’s events, complaining to you about the amount of work piled up on him, reminiscing about past memories, or making plans for the future so he can book a day off in advance. After dinner, he’s content to spend time with you doing nothing. His favourite is resting his head on your lap and feeling you comb your fingers through his messy hair. He finds your touch comforting and loving, just the thing he needs after a hard day. Of course, he wouldn’t be the Dozing General if he didn’t fall asleep on your lap, but he can’t help himself. The tranquillity of the moment makes him sleepy, plus your thighs make a good pillow to take a nap on.

🦁 Sometimes Jing Yuan invites Yanqing over to spar or play a game of star chess. He likes watching you get along with his apprentice, especially when you both team up against Jing Yuan during board games after he sneakily steals a piece from the board. Your outraged reactions are too amusing, so the Luofu General can’t resist from purposely getting a reaction out of you and his apprentice.

🦁 It sometimes surprises Jing Yuan when you compliment him on his fighting prowess or cunning chess play during his spars and chess games with Yanqing. The General doesn’t do these things to show off, but he feels flattered that you pay attention to him and recognize his talents. He has a reputation of being lazy and laidback, and his frequent “breaks” to come visit you instead of doing his paperwork do him no favours. However, he isn’t the Luofu General just for his good looks, and he appreciates you recognizing that. Jing Yuan internally preens at your praise while trying to play it cool in front of Yanqing, but will later wrap you up in a hug and nuzzle against your neck like an affectionate cat, overcome by a surge of love because of your compliments.

🦁 Another one of Jing Yuan’s favourite evening activities is bathing with you. He’s got a large tub that can fit both of you comfortably, so why not make use of it? He enjoys the non-sexual intimacy that comes with sharing a bath. He enjoys the moment of closeness when you’re both at your most vulnerable. Just soaking in the warm water while holding you against him feels cozy to Jing Yuan and helps him relax. He also enjoys making silly little games using soap foam, such as constructing foam horns on your head or dabbing some foam on your nose to make you laugh. Additionally, he likes letting you pamper him by washing his hair or scrubbing his back. Something about being taken care of by you is soothing to him, and he makes sure to return the favour by washing you in return if you’ll let him.

🦁 When it comes to sleeping, Jing Yuan likes positions where he can feel your body against his. Whether you’ve got your head on his chest or he’s spooning you from behind, he doesn’t care as long as he can feel you. It helps him fall asleep easier knowing you’re beside him. His cat also joins you in bed, usually sleeping by your feet or next to your heads. It’s become a routine for it to curl up and sleep with your pair.

🦁 Before actually falling asleep, Jing Yuan likes to chat with you about everything and anything. Nighttime is when you have a moment strictly to yourselves, away from the responsibilities that weigh down on you during the day. To Jing Yuan, nighttime is when you can forget about the things that happened that day and the things that await you tomorrow and just live in the present moment, even if just for a few minutes. He finds it to be the most comfortable time for philosophical discussions, revelations about your pasts, musings for future ambitions, or quirky questions and answers that make you both laugh. It’s a time when you can both be yourselves without any pretences or expectations and bond on a more intimate level. Furthermore, Jing Yuan has developed a habit of wishing you goodnight and kissing your forehead before going to sleep. Even in situations where you fall asleep before he does, he still lightly kisses your forehead before joining you in dreamland.

🦁 Mornings with Jing Yuan are even lazier than the evenings. After his alarm goes off, he’s in no rush to get up, preferring to stay cozied up under the sheets for another few minutes. If you try to shake him awake before he’s ready to get up, Jing Yuan will just wrap an arm around you and pull you close, sleepily mumbling to give him five more minutes while nuzzling into your hair. Despite him being only partially awake, you’ll be immobilized by his sheer strength. It can be a hassle getting him up, but if you nag him enough, Jing Yuan will reluctantly get out of bed.

🦁 When the Luofu General has no pressing matters to attend, he will get ready for work slowly. Everything he does is unhurried, whether it be brushing his teeth, getting dressed, or eating breakfast. He takes his time with each task. He’d like it if you could slow down and savour these moments with him but won’t force you to match his pace if it’s not your thing. He’ll only sigh in disappointment if you rush about the house, scrambling to get ready, and lament about being unable to enjoy a slow morning with you.

🦁 As a General, Jing Yuan usually has his meals prepared for him by professional chefs under his employ, so you and he get to eat a big and delicious breakfast each morning. However, if you offer to make breakfast for the two of you, he can make arrangements to hand over breakfast duty to you. Even if the things you make aren’t as grandiose as what his chefs could make, Jing Yuan still looks forward to eating your cooking. How could he possibly turn down the opportunity to eat food made specially for him by the one he loves? If anything, having you cook for him would make Jing Yuan feel spoiled and loved. He’ll smile like a happy cat while chowing down on your cooking and thank you for the delicious meal with a hug and a kiss.

🦁 Jing Yuan isn’t a sloppy man, but his sleepiness can affect his appearance. When getting dressed, he might forget to button the cuffs or tie a ribbon crookedly, so he greatly appreciates you coming to his rescue by pointing out when things look out of place. He may be called the Dozing General and have a reputation for being lazy, but he can’t afford to appear dishevelled in front of his subordinates. Likewise, Jing Yuan keeps an eye on your outfit too, pointing out if you put on something backwards or if your socks don’t match and things like that. He’s also got a good memory and helps you find items you’ve misplaced, like your keys or phone. He finds mutually helping each other a natural part of living together.

🦁 Jing Yuan’s morning wouldn’t be complete without a goodbye kiss from you. Regardless of which one of you leaves the house first, it became a habit for you to kiss the other goodbye. Jing Yuan will even drag himself out of bed while still half-asleep just to see you off if you leave earlier than him. It’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but he finds it heartwarming to wish you a nice day and get the same sentiment in return. He likes being able to see you one more time before being whisked away to his mountain of duties as a General and will be a little brat if you deny him a kiss. Jing Yuan’s day feels brighter just knowing you care enough about him to see him off, and he looks forward to seeing you again after work so he can feel your lips on his once more when he returns.

Argenti

🌹 Having a set routine with Argenti is difficult because he travels so much. The only way you could consistently see him is by traveling alongside him through the universe on his One and Only, and even then, he could disappear on a planet for extended periods of time. As a chivalrous knight, Argenti was notorious for getting wrapped up in strange incidents or rescuing people from monsters and catastrophes. It’s not rare for you to not see him for several days before he returns covered in bruises and scratches and a lengthy apology for leaving your side for so long. It makes him happy whenever you welcome his return with a hug or a kiss after a long absence because he dearly misses your affection.

🌹 Your evenings with Argenti are varied. If he comes home injured, you know to get the first aid kit to treat any minor wounds. Argenti reassures you that you don’t have to trouble yourself on his behalf, but he’s thankful for your kind heart and desire to care for him. He makes sure to express his gratitude by taking your hand and kissing the back of it while saying his thanks.

🌹 If he sustains heavier injuries and must get treatment from a doctor, Argenti makes sure to message you the first chance he gets to let you know he won’t be able to see you until he recovers. It breaks his heart to leave you alone, but he knows you’ll be more upset at him for not getting the treatment he needs, so he stays put. In events like these, he makes sure to message and call you every day until he gets released, wanting to know how you’re doing.

🌹 On most evenings, Argenti comes home with little gifts. Sometimes it a piece of a monster he defeated that he found interesting and wanted to show off to you. Other times it’s things from planets he visited, like a trinket that caught his eye or a delicacy he wants you to try. Argenti enjoys learning about other cultures and exploring the unique things the universe has to offer, and he wants to share that joy with you. Since you can’t always join Argenti on his adventures, he uses these items to connect you to them and let you experience a tiny fraction of his journey.

🌹 Argenti also likes to spend his evenings polishing his armour and lance. You’re welcome to join him if you like, Argenti will show you how to do it properly. As a Knight of Beauty, he is particular about his appearance. How can he relay the magnificence and importance of his beloved Idrila if he lets his armour and weapon grow dull and rusty from neglect? He would bring dishonour on his Aeon and his title as a knight, which is why he polishes his armour until it reflects your faces like a mirror. If you manage to come close with your polishing, Argenti will be proud of you and will praise you for your hard work and dedication to beauty.

🌹 The Knight of Beauty has always been fascinated with all kinds of dances, be it ballet, tango, contemporary, hip-hop, and many more. Pretty much anything is appealing to him as long as it’s not crass and sexual. While he could learn some solo dance styles, a few others required him to have a dance partner which he didn’t have until he started living with you. He suggests for you to learn a dance together and will be happy if you agree, but disappointed and understanding if you turn down his offer. Argenti isn’t a perfect dancer but he’s eager to learn and improve. Having you as his dance partner is perfect because he can improve his skills while simultaneously doing something romantic with you. He doesn’t mind if you have two left feet or step on his toes, he just wants to spend some quality time with you.

🌹 In general, Argenti lets you choose what you guys will do in the evenings. He’s happy to join you on your hobbies and watches you with a soft look in his eyes. Argenti thinks you’re at your most beautiful when you’re talking about the things you love. The way your expression lights up in excitement makes his heart melt. He may not understand the appeal behind some of your hobbies or be bad at them, but he’s determined to learn all he can about them simply because they make you happy.

🌹 If he comes home late and finds you asleep in the lounge while waiting for him, Argenti feels immense guilt. He doesn’t like keeping you waiting or making you worry about him, and while he wishes to apologize immediately, he swallows his words in favour of letting you sleep. He carefully picks you up and carries you to bed, silently promising to make it up to you in the morning.

🌹 Argenti is a gentleman, so when you sleep in the same bed together, he tries his best to respect your boundaries. Unless you tell him it’s okay, he will keep his hands to himself and stay on his side of the bed. It may seem like he doesn’t want to be close to you, but in reality, he’s just worried about invading your personal space. Kissing and hugging when you’re out and about it one thing, but sleeping all cuddled up isn’t for everyone, and he knows that. Nevertheless, he’ll be really happy if you express a desire to be closer and let him hold you. Even then, he tries to be respectful by simply wrapping an arm around you but will hug you more if you tell him to. If you want to cuddle him, he lets you, relishing in your affection. The scent and warmth of your skin soothe him, and Argenti finds he grows sleepy quicker when you hold him.

🌹 The red-haired knight is an early riser, so he usually wakes up long before you do. He’s used to waking up early to go training, but it’s been harder for him to get out of bed ever since you started sleeping with him. Waking up to the sight of your sleeping face never gets old for Argenti. Even when your hair is messy and there’s drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth, Argenti still thinks you’re the loveliest view he has ever seen, and he takes a moment to admire how beautiful you look in your sleep. If he wakes up to find your head on his chest and your limbs wrapped around his body, his heart skips a beat. There’s something so endearing about you using him as a pillow and pressing close like that, that Argenti struggles to summon the will to leave you. How could he when you look so cute? Alas, he regretfully parts from your side to start his day, but he shelves that memory to fondly reminisce over later that day.

🌹 Argenti’s mornings usually start with training. He wants to be in top physical condition and keep his skills sharp to handle any situation that comes his way, especially when it comes to slaying monsters. He’s lost a few people dear to him because he wasn’t strong enough, so he’s determined to improve and grow stronger so he can protect others and most of all you. If you express an interest in exercising in the mornings, Argenti would be happy assist you in any way he could. He’ll wake you up early, make you breakfast, and help you with your workouts if you need it. He’s always up to spar with you, eager to help both of you improve your fighting skills, but he can also assist you with stretches or keep you company for cardio exercises if those are more your thing.

🌹 If you prefer sleeping in, Argenti tries to surprise you with breakfast in bed. It’s nothing fancy as he’s not the best cook, but he tries to make it look appetizing. He wakes you up and gives you a good morning kiss before placing down a tray sprinkled with rose petals on your lap. On the tray you can spot a hearty sandwich, some scrambled eggs, coffee or tea, and a red rose perched in a vase. It’s not much but he hopes it makes you happy. If you praise his efforts, Argenti will light up like the sun, proud for having pleased you and helped you start your day off right. Nevertheless, he wants to surprise you with more elaborate dishes which is why he takes up practicing some recipes in secret. His attempts aren’t always a success, but he keeps at it until he succeeds because he wants to impress you.

🌹 If you offer to cook breakfast instead, Argenti will look forward to whatever it is you make. It can be an elaborate dish or something lumpy and a little overcooked, he will eat it all simply because you made it. Regardless of whether you’re a great or bad cook, Argenti will always give your food and yourself a compliment because he’s touched by the effort you put in to make something for him. He also offers to wash the dishes afterwards, claiming you did your part by cooking breakfast.

Dan Heng

🐉 When you joined the Astral Express as a pathstrider of the Trailblaze and Dan Heng’s lover, Pom Pom was in a bind about where you could sleep on the train. The Express didn’t have enough bedrooms for this many people, so Pom Pom was relieved when you agreed to share the archives room with Dan Heng. For his part, Dan Heng tried to convince you to look for a proper bedroom because it would be more comfortable than sleeping in the archives, but ultimately accepted to having you move in with him.

🐉 March 7th teased you for sharing a room, commenting how you and Dan Heng were like a married couple, but in truth, Dan Heng treated you more like a roommate than a romantic partner. He got you a spare futon and placed it in a free corner of the archives, designating that as your personal spot, and reassured that you will get used to the hum and lights of the machines. His attitude might seem aloof and almost cold, but he is just trying to respect your personal space.

🐉 Thoughts of sharing a bed with you did cross Dan Heng’s mind, but he brushed them off, thinking he would make you uncomfortable if he asked so soon. Sharing a room is already a huge step and he didn’t dare cross the line by asking you to sleep with him. If you want to share a bed with Dan Heng, you will have to make the suggestion yourself because he won’t think to do so anytime soon.

🐉 Dan Heng doesn’t mind how you choose to spend your free time in the evenings. A lot of the members of the Astral Express are eager to spend time with you, so he understands if you’re too busy playing chess with Welt and listening to him rave about animation or helping March take photos and shop for cute items to spend time with him. If you do decide to spend time with Dan Heng, expect to do something productive. Since he’s read a lot of data entries in the database about all kinds of things out there in the universe, Dan Heng naturally wants to test a few things out for himself. He lets you join in on his experiments if you’re curious about them, all the while explaining the theory and science behind the project in a way that you can easily understand.

🐉 Another way he likes to spend time with you is playing board games. Chess is his go-to but he can play others things like cards and whatever else you suggest. Dan Heng usually wins in most of your games but he can make a tactful loss if it means making you happy. If there are games you want to play that require more people, March 7th and the Trailblazer get roped in to play. Having them around usually makes the games chaotic yet fun, but Dan Heng makes sure to keep an eye on everyone lest things spiral out of control.

🐉 His absolute favorite activity to do with you is reading. Settling in a quiet corner of the train with a good book and a cup of hot tea in hand is Dan Heng’s preferred way to unwind. He enjoys it when you join him with a book of your own or another quiet activity so you can spend some time together just doing your own thing. Dan Heng is also happy to discuss any books with you. Though he usually reads scientific literature, he’s willing to read things you like so you can talk about it and share your impressions. He’ll be happy if you try to do the same with his books and will be understanding if his reading material is difficult for you to grasp. In such an event, he will explain what his book is about and basically teach you the material if you’re willing to hear him out.

🐉 Dan Heng also likes to read before bed. When everyone is settling in for the night, he stays up to read in bed with his nightlight on. He doesn’t mind if you ask him to read aloud to you even if he finds it awkward at first. His books are dry, so he won’t blame you if you fall asleep while listening to him, but he’ll be touched and a little flustered if you say you like the sound of his voice. He never thought much about his own voice, but it’s flattering to hear you want him to read out loud just because you like listening to it.

🐉 When sharing a bed with you, Dan Heng likes to drape an arm around your waist or hug you against his chest. He also barely moves in his sleep unless he’s having nightmares, so you’ll find him in the same position he went to sleep. He’s a light sleeper and will easily wake up if you move around too much or make any noise such as going to the bathroom (but he’ll wait for you to return before going back to sleep). Times when you manage to get out of bed without waking Dan Heng are rare, and usually only happen if he’s extremely tired.

🐉 Sharing a bed with another person and being so physically close is foreign to Dan Heng, but he doesn’t mind as long as its you. He did feel a bit awkward at the start but has sense grown used to having you so close. He found he even likes feeling your presence beside him because it reassures a subconscious part of him that you’re safe. In fact, he grows so used to it that he becomes unable to fall asleep without you as easily because he has a constant sense as if something important were missing. Dan Heng also developed a habit of kissing your forehead and wishing you goodnight right before going to sleep, but if he can’t do it because you’re separated for a mission, then he makes sure to at least send you a text to check in on you and wish you goodnight.

🐉 Though he doesn’t get nightmares as often as he used to, Dan Heng still experiences occasional bad dreams about his past life. He became better at coping with them ever since he came to terms with his identity, but some of the scenes in his dreams still leave him rattled and he struggles to fall back asleep. If his thrashing wakes you, Dan Heng apologizes and tells you to go back to sleep while he steps out for some air. If you follow after him with questions and worries about what happened, he’ll share his nightmares and confide in you, trusting you as his partner to reveal that information about his past. Dan Heng doesn’t require comfort since these scenes are all in the past and they’re not technically “his” memories either, but he appreciates you being willing to hear him out. Talking to you about his dreams can sometimes help him sort out his feelings and feel at ease again.

🐉 Chances to sleep in on the Express are rare since Pom Pom ensures everyone is up on time for breakfast. As a natural early riser, Dan Heng seldom has problems waking up early and getting out of bed and will wake you up too, so Pom Pom won’t yell at you to get up. If you’re someone who struggles to wake up early, Dan Heng won’t force you to get up if you’re reluctant to get out of bed, but he’ll warn you that the conductor won’t let others eat unless everyone is gathered at the table. As annoying as they are, such are the rules at the Astral Express. Whatever Pom Pom says, goes.

🐉 Much like everyone else on the train, you are also a part of cooking duty. Everyone must do their part to help keep the place running, as Pom Pom explained. Even if you’re not the best chef in the world, if you’re better than Himeko then that’s more than enough reason to keep you on the schedule. If you really struggle with cooking, then Dan Heng will help you prepare breakfast. He knows a lot of recipes and is an adept cook, arguably the best on the Express, so he knows his way around the kitchen. Rest assured you will be in good hands with him in charge, and something delicious will be ready for the crew to indulge in regardless of how much you screwed up in the process. If you like, he could even teach you how to prepare some basic dishes.

🐉 If you’re a good cook, then Dan Heng will ask you to teach him some of your recipes, particularly ones from your home planet that he hadn’t encountered before. He likes learning new things and finds it valuable to learn more about your culture and customs. It’s a part of your life, and Dan Heng wants to know you as best he can both as his partner and as a person.

🐉 When it’s his turn to cook, Dan Heng will accept any suggestions you might have about what he should make for breakfast. Sometimes he takes your preferences into account and either makes one of your favourite dishes or incorporates one of your favourite foods into whatever he’s making. He doesn’t do it all the time though, so the rest of the Express crew won’t think he’s showing favouritism (March knows and rats him out).

[vintage-fuzz]

Honestly, viewing Ford & Fiddleford’s relationship from the perspective of a Gravity Falls citizen is kind of crazy because, it’s the early 80s & this elusive, out-of-towner scientist has been working & living by himself in a secluded woodland cabin for like 6 years & then, all of a sudden, this southern scientist guy joins him &, on occasion, they start showing up in town together, going to the carnival with one another & eating at the diner together amongst various other activities.

As the months pass, the cracks in their relationship begin to show, even to outsiders, all the while coinciding with even stranger occurrences than normal. Unexplained beams of light emanate from their shared cabin, gravity’s pull on the Earth lessens, causing people & objects to float in midair at random intervals & the scientists themselves seem visibly sleep-deprived, on-edge & paranoid.

This escalates to them having a very public & highly volatile argument at the local diner they frequent, in front of numerous other patrons. They’d see Ford storm off & curse Fiddleford under his breath, tossing a ring into the lake. They’d see Fiddleford’s desperation & fear, as he hopelessly urges Ford to accept the thesis (which, to them, just look like various non-specific papers) he painstakingly put together for him, pleading with him to abandon their project.

Then, with no warning, the southerner just disappears, only to reemerge years, if not decades later as a crazed recluse. The main scientist, however, he’s still showing up in town, but this time around he’s different somehow, he’s wild, unhinged & downright masochistic. He wreaks havoc on the townsfolk & upon himself as he harasses law enforcement, strips naked, eats live spiders, & even becomes an early adopter of the “tramp stamp” &, is overall, a general nuisance.

After causing a bit of chaos, he just straight up disappears for a few weeks until he announces that now he gives guided tours of his lab & has a mullet. Nearly all of this happens before the Society of the Blind Eye has properly formed too, so unless Fiddleford was just going on mass mind erasing sprees in his spare time, there’s no way people forgot about this, at least not immediately.

In conclusion, all of this just looks like an extremely messy breakup, which, is partially true, lmao.

[jeonscatalyst]

You can say whatever you want to say about Jimin but one thing thunder will strike you down for saying is that Jimin EVER had anything handed to him, because that man had to work for every single thing he has or has become and he started working from the day he set his foot into Bighit!

While others never had to bother about their positions in the group, Jimin was the only one who constantly had to go to bed worrying because he didn’t know if he was going to have a job there the next day, while others freely got vocal lessons, Jimin was the one who had to sit at the corner and learn by listening to Taehyung and Jungkook during their vocal lessons, lessons he was deprived of getting. While others didn’t care if they left or not, Jimin was determined to stay to fulfil his dreams and bear in mind that he was only a 17 year old boy who left all he knew and loved to go to a city he had never been to before to bunk with complete strangers. Bear in mind that this 17 year old had to deal with school, 18 hour long practice sessions, threats of being fired because Bang PD thought he was “incomplete”, bear in mind that this 17 year old boy had to deal with body shaming, bear in mind that this 17 year old boy usually went to bed at 4am and woke up by 6:30am to get ready for school and was still a good and deligent student.

This 17 year old boy had to deal with body shaming so much that till this day he still has a complex about his looks and body and won’t even let himself eat sometimes because he wants “sharp looks”.

Bear in mind that person who is called the “company’s fave” and accused of sleeping with producers and the CEO to gain favors is the one who was denied the opportunity to have a visual album. He is the one who continuously gets ridiculed by articles calling his success “partial”, he is the one whose father and family the company allows Kmedia to write the most disgusting articles about. He is the one who left the comfort of his home to go squat with Pdogg for 10 months to work on Two albums and while doing all these, the fandom called him lazy and said he wasn’t interested in being a solo artist even though he took part in writing his own songs for his album. If this is how a company treats their favourite, I don’t want to know how they treat their least favourite.

Jimin does nothing, says nothing, minds his business, shows love to EVERYONE around him, keeps away from social media as much as possible yet he is the one who keeps getting targeted by EVERYONE! Other members don’t perform as “good” as their fans hoped they would, Jimin gets hate even though he is the one who makes sure to be there for all his members. All solos of other members have a hate boner for Jimin just because they didn’t expect him to succeed as much as he is currently doing since this fandom had placed him at 3rd most popular and saw him as the least likely to succeed in solo work just because he didn’t walk around singing about his plans to anyone who cared to listen.

He is constantly the punching bag of shippers, solos, kpoppies, gossip blogs and even kmedia yet you wouldn’t even believe that this is a man we only get to see once in a blue moon.

He is the member every single other member has spoken about when it comes to how hardworking and focused and determined he is about his work yet people call him privileged just because he is breaking records no one thought he would. In all my years of life, rarely have I seen someone so unproblematic get hated on so damn much just because he was underestimated and choose to prove people wrong!

He is doomed when he does, doomed when he doesn’t. If he mentioned by other members (especially Jk) he gets hate, if he isn’t mentioned, he gets hate. If he mentions other members he gets hate, he doesn’t mention other members he gets hate. People constantly drag him into things that have NOTHING to do with him.

Taehyung makes a decision as an adult (which he has every right to) to have a girlfriend and go on a stroll with her, gets photographed, yet Jimin is hated on for a decision another 29 year old man made for his own happiness and life because tell me why tkkrs and Tae solos are calling Jimin names because Taehyung decided to have a girlfriend?

We discover that the company has been aware of the hate brewing within Jimin and Jungkook fandoms and how the fandom is building resentment towards Jimin’s fans and by extension Jimin and they are not doing anything to curb the hate yet Jimin is the one who gets dragged? What did this poor boy even do? What did he ever do to anyone to deserve this? Is the gossip just not sweet enough unless he is added in the mix? What business does a bicycle have at a gas station?

My heart has been so broken reading all the nasty things that have been said about Jimin this past few days and I would have understood if he actually had a hand in any of this or if there was any proof that he did but what makes me beyond mad is that everything for antis is pure conjecture! They have taken parts of documents they were privy to and had purposely twisted everything, ignoring context, showing their lack of reading comprehension skills or maybe actually understanding what the docs really say but choosing to drag Jimin for things he had no control over. I don’t know if they need someone to blame and the only one fitting is Jimin since they don’t want to actually confront the real issues because what do you mean “how could his so called soul mate sit down and watch him get used as a shield for others dating lives”? What control does Jimin have over who Taehyung keeps in his life and who he doesn’t? What control does Jimin have over the decisions he makes? What control does Jimin have over what the company does and says to or about other members?

People feel so comfortable sitting on the internet causing immeasurable pain and hurt to people just because they are famous without realizing that karma is one bad bitch! Jimin who has never in his life had anything handed to him and has always had to work extra hard for everything he got is being accused of being favoured by the company? Funniest thing I have heard in my life. As I said before, say anything about Jimin but don’t ever call him privileged!

Because I believe in the power of retribution and in karma, I’ll sit back and wait for these people to eat their words. Karma sometimes takes it time but it ALWAYS arrives to those who deserve it.

EDIT: I had to go through this post and do some editing (taking out some stuff) because I noticed that while I didn’t intend to sound bitter or like I am comparing Jimin to other members, my words may have come off that way to some who pointed it out to me. I got defensive at first because I didn’t understand why anyone would see it that way but after going through the post again, I saw how my words could have come off. I realized that we are all sensitive because of the things people constantly say about the boys so I needed to be more careful with how I worded stuff so I didn’t repeat antis rhetorics.

This is meant to be a support post for Jimin and I want it to be seen only as that and nothing more. I don’t tolerate any hate or shade towards any of the members on my blog so I don’t want to give anyone the impression that this is a safe space for any kind of hate towards anyone (unless it’s a toxic taekooker or solo then we can drag them by their eyelashes)

💜

[thevampireladyambrosia]

The Professor's Pet

Request via anon.

Pairing: Male!Kitsune x Female!Reader.

Content Warning: Power dynamics (professor x student), manipulation, age gap, knots.

You have always been a good student. At least at this university. A school involving magic was the dream. As a human, however, you struggled a bit. Especially with charms. In fact, you frequently explode them by pouring too much energy in. You can't help it. You are just so excited. Thus, you fell behind in class.

The professor, an older kitsune with all nine tails, noticed this. He had been trying to help you as much as he could, but he could only do so much. So you quickly began to fail the class.

This caused you to panic. You could only go to this place because you got a full ride scholarship. A scholarship that requires a certain GPA to keep.

So you doubled down. You tried harder. You stayed up later. Only for things to become more of a disaster. Your anxious energy explodes charms more easily. Your sleep deprivation led to you making mistakes you normally wouldn't.

It was very late one night that you decided you'd approach the professor the next day. You knew his office hours from the beginning of the year; from when he had gone over the syllabus. Maybe you could ask for an extra credit essay? Something. Anything. You had to pass this class.

The next day goes slowly. It's like the universe knew you had something that needed done, so it slowed down time. You found yourself glancing at the clock every couple minutes. You were an anxious mess. The professor seemed nice enough. But would he help you?

When the time came for you to approach his office you somehow grew more anxious. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move. You entered his office.

He looked up and smiled. He greeted you and gestured for you to take a seat.

“I'm assuming you're here about your grade?” He stated. He said it casually and in a nonchalant way. But it was anything but that to you. It determined the rest of your life. Failing would mean not being able to continue at this school. It would mean everything had been for nothing.

“Um… yeah.” You replied. You mentally kicked yourself. You wanted to say more, but it would come out. Like your mouth was too dry, and your lips were sewn shut.

“I went ahead and took a look at your assignments. It appears you weren't absent for much. Rather, it became apparent that you had a knack for exploding things throughout the year. As you likely know, I could have done something if you had excused absences. I could have let you make up the work for partial credit. Simply failing is different, though. If I let you redo it, you'd gain an unfair advantage over your classmates.”

You sucked in a breath. There it was. What you had feared all along. Your face fell. You were really going to fail the class.

“But…” You immediately snapped back into attention. There was a glimmer of hope in that simple word. “I do reward effort. And you, my dear student, have put in effort. Tell me, how far are you willing to go to secure your grade?”

You blinked. Did he want you to clean the classroom? Write a huge report? Do a presentation?

“I'd do anything. Anything at all.” You said confidently.

“That's a bold statement.” The kitsune said. But you didn't miss the glimmer in his eye. The same one people have when they get something they want. When they succeed at something. Satisfaction.

“It's the truth,” you replied. And it was. At this point in time, you'd do just about anything to secure your grade. Aside from doing something that harmed others.

“How about I give you a bonus assignment? One worth a good chunk of points. It would be distributed and added onto your other grades. But you'd have to keep it a secret. And I'd want something in return.”

You couldn't believe your ears. A chance to pass. You'd have to be positively insane to say no. But what did he want in return?

“I'll do it. Whatever it is, I'll do it. And I won't tell a soul.” You couldn't believe your own mouth. This was basically cheating. This would make you a fraud. The kitsune seemed to recognize where your mind was heading. And he acknowledged it in his next statement.

“It's not cheating. I'm a professor. I would know. The greatest minds weren't just people who were good at things. They were people who were passionate about things. You, my dear, have passion. You have drive. You have perseverance. Is it really cheating? Or are you just getting acknowledged for your work?”

You felt strange. He had praised you. Maybe he was right? I mean, you did work hard.

“But, even more amazing, is the fact you know how to work the system.” You looked at him. What was he talking about? “Wearing that short skirt you know would drive men crazy.”

Your eyes widen. You open your mouth to protest, to explain, but his hand slips under your skirt. It catches you so off guard that you don't even get a word out. Luckily, he only rubs your thigh before withdrawing his hand.

“I-” He cuts you off.

“You said anything, remember?” He's smiling at you. “What I want is simple. I want you to let me stuff your pretty little cunt with my cock. Just this once. After all, that's what you offered when you said anything, yes?”

He had a point. You did say anything. And maybe one time was worth it for a good grade?

“Okay. I consent. Just this once.” The professor didn't hesitate. You could barely process anything before you were bent over his desk. Your underwear were pushed aside as he roughly shoved a finger in. It stung slightly but quickly faded as your cunt lubricated itself.

It would help if you didn't enjoy it. If your cunt wasn't sending waves of pleasure into your brain, making it short circuit. When his thumb found your clit and a second finger joined, you moaned. It was loud and filthy. It made you feel disgusted with yourself.

He fingered you until you came around onto his hand hard. It was the most intense orgasm of your life. And it was given to you by your professor. Your way older professor. But you didn't care anymore.

He made you beg for his cock. Made you plead. And you did. He didn't even bother to undress you nor himself. He just pulled his growing erection out and kept your underwear pushed aside. He shoved into you in one swift motion that made you cry out and see stars.

He fucked you rough and hard, his pace unforgiving. And when you came, you gushed around his cock. If you thought the orgasm earlier was intense, this one was unreal. You became practically boneless. Your vision went white. You could have sworn you passed out for a brief moment.

And then he came. Buried deep in your cunt. You felt the warmth of his seed fill you. And something strange happened too. It was like he got bigger. Like his penis expanded, locking him in. You had expected him to pull out. You had assumed incorrectly.

It wasn't even a minute after his penis went back to normal that he fixed your clothes and ushered you out. Something about office hours being over.

You walked back to your dorm on wobbly legs, your professor's cum dripping down your thighs. You pressed them together to hide it as much as possible.

When you arrived back, you showered and went to bed. A few days later you had a B in his class.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do Headcannons for how the Harbingers (Separately) would handle a reader who gets overwhelmed after being around crowds all day and wants physical contact to recharge. Oddly specific but if you feel comfy writing thus I'd love to see it!

this one was interesting to think about so I did only two harbingers for now but you're free to swing back around and request others as well :D i tried to pick two on opposite ends of the scale to show the difference between them, i hope you enjoy!

Warning: This post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behavior, relationship neglect, Dottore being an ass, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Pantalone: 

Your best bet is Pantalone, as he’s the most understanding and affectionate amongst the Harbingers. This isn’t to say he’s an absolute doll, but that he’d be the most accommodating. He understands that not everyone is made for crowds and parties and the large events he typically attends, which is why he always extends the offer for you to simply sit them out. 

That’s not to say he doesn’t want you to accompany him, because there’s no one he’d prefer by his side, but he knows that you don’t do well amongst others. If you do choose to go though, he is more than happy to oblige in your need for comfort. Whether there is a ride back or merely a walk back to your shared quarters, you can expect him to be touching you in some way. 

It could be a hand holding yours as you walk down the halls back to your bedroom, it could be holding you close to his side on the carriage ride back to the palace, it might even extend to him pulling you into a secluded corner and smothering your face in feather light kisses before re-entering the party crowd.

Regardless, Pantalone is the easiest and best to ask for comfort from, his job is one of the more stressful ones amongst the other Harbingers and he’s always more than happy to allow himself some relaxation time with you. 

Dottore:

While Pantalone is the best, Dottore is on the opposite end of the spectrum. This man is too busy chatting up elites for more funding to really pay any mind to your growing unrest. If you try to talk about it beforehand he’ll simply insist you stay, rather than be a burden to him. Should you refuse to back down and go regardless, he’ll brush off any requests you make of him for affection or to leave.

If the event is taking place in the Palace, he’ll simply tell you to wait outside in the hallway and send one of his segments to collect you. If it’s away from the Palace, he’ll tell you to either suck it up or go sit in the carriage and wait for him there.

When the event inevitably ends and he is no longer preoccupied with kissing the ass of those around him, you can still expect to be largely ignored. This man is a genius scientist who is always in the middle of a huge breakthrough! Do you really expect him to drop everything to cuddle up to you because you’re too soft? If you can’t wait for him to become so sleep-deprived that he finally gives in and crawls into bed, which can take days unfortunately, then you’ll just have to make do with being comforted by one of his segments.

It’s happened enough that his segments have come to know you personally. And while they are technically still Dottore, they’re merely fragments of him that have grown into their own partial beings. The comfort they provide doesn’t extend much beyond the physical aspect, but there’s a small bit of comfort in knowing that they’re here for you. That someone is willing to give up their time to be by your side.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: after you'd sent Xavier a text that told him not to meet you, you'd ventured to the school at dawn, alone, bouquet in hand as promised.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.24

It was barely 6AM. You'd hardly slept after Dave had returned you to the house. He'd watched you climb the stairs to the second floor, ever the persistent warden, before you'd heard him slink down to the basement he and Aurora had converted into their private apartment. Besides the numerous big reveals that had unfolded last night—Ajay's odd friendship with your sister, Simon's warped inverse of your ability, Maddie's soul penetrating the field of your cosmic artery, the soul-tie you and Wally somehow shared—besides all of that, something, a feeling of profound unrest, had kept you up. Had you staring at the green stars on Aiden's ceiling until your alarm began to chime.

Sharing a soul-tie with Wally should've been the thing that terrified you most amongst all that'd transpired. It was unheard of, curious, downright impossible in nature. Soul-ties were as fragile as they were strong and required both souls to be alive, together in the same lifetime in the world of the living, to exist. That Wally was extremely not alive should've made you question the validity of the connection you and he had. Especially given there was evidence of magical tampering on school grounds, a spiteful, bitter essence sickened into the ether that surrounded the campus.

And yet, that nor the symbol etched into the tree, that bastardized amalgamation of runic lines, hadn't been what you'd kept ruminating about from the moment you'd laid down until dawn. No, it'd been Dave. Something about how he'd come out of the trees, so steady and sure-footed; how his eyes had held your gaze as he'd marched toward you.

You pressed your fingers into your eyes and groaned. There was no use thinking about it further. Not now. You had a bouquet to put together and two friends to save. Dave's feline equilibrium had to wait. With a grunt you rolled out of Aiden's little-kid bed and shuffled into your room, not daring to check your appearance in the mirror. You could feel the bags under your eyes. Heavy and dark like someone had injected squid ink beneath the delicate skin.

Showering was a groggy, clumsy affair, appendages weak and a step behind your brain's transmissions. You did what you could to make yourself presentable, hoped to conceal the fatigue behind a cute outfit: A thin, loose, autumn-orange destination sweater tucked partially into a slim, black denim skirt with opaque black tights underneath. You applied makeup where you needed it to hide the sleep deprivation and called it at that, unable to muster the strength for much else. It was going to be a long, long, l o n g day.

But worth it, you reminded yourself firmly in a voice not unlike Wally's, because you were going to find a way to help Simon and once Simon was helped, you'd both find a way to get Maddie back on the right side of the veil.

A sweep of berry-tinted lipgloss and you dragged yourself outside into your Nanna's garden, brandishing a pair of pruning shears from the mud room you'd passed through on your way out. You clipped a variety of flowers and piled them on the bouquet paper you'd liberated from the stash Nanna (and now Aurora) kept at the house. Once accomplished, it was time to head out and you sighed in regret that you'd texted Xavier to sleep in, telling him you wanted to be alone that morning to center yourself before having to face your classmates after yesterday's ordeal.

It wasn't entirely false. It couldn't have been. You didn't lie to Xavier as a personal commandment. But it wasn't entirely the truth either and you felt queasy from it. Still, you sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to move forward. Nanna was in the kitchen when you walked in with the bouquet, sitting at the table as she waited for the kettle to boil. You could smell the floral tea blend Nanna, Aurora, and Dave drank. Even dry the scent was potent, overwhelming the herb and warm spice aroma the kitchen usually held. You nearly gagged as you passed the open teapot, the concoction inside like a punch to the nose when you got too close.

"Good morning, Maypie." Nanna smiled warmly, patting the table in front of the seat beside her. The nickname irritated you, too close to the one you'd scolded Xavier for using yesterday, but it was Nanna and you couldn't find it in yourself to say something.

Instead, "Morning, Nanna," you greeted with a yawn, setting the bouquet on the counter as you traipsed toward the sink to fill a glass of water. "Can't sit. Gotta get to school."

Nanna hummed in acknowledgment and you could tell she was checking the time on the stove before she turned to face you in her chair. "Awfully early, isn't it?"

"So early," You agreed with a sob of disdain as you brought the glass to your lips for a sip of cold water. Your skin began to feel warm and wherever you rested your gaze seemed irrationally farther than where it should be. Shaking your head to dispel what you assumed was a lack of sleep, you took a deep drink from your glass.

Nanna tilted her head and raised a snowy brow at something near your elbow, "And who are those for?"

For a brief moment, you didn't grasp the question, casting about to understand. When your eyes landed on the bouquet beside the sink, you blinked slowly at it, lids like lead. The floral aroma itched your nostrils, traveled into your skull, a thick fog dampening your mental processing.

Sedate, you panned your head and stared properly at the bouquet, told Nanna, "It's for Maddie," confused as to why you'd believed you shouldn't. That desperate, nagging feeling you'd had earlier when thinking of last night—last night?—growled in warning in the back of your mind, but it was so far away you easily ignored it.

"Oh, how lovely," Nanna replied, standing to put her hands on your shoulders and rub your arms kindly, "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture when she comes home."

"Who will appreciate what gesture?" Ginny croaked from the doorway, slugging into the kitchen in a silk robe and thick, knitted socks up to her knees. You knew she wore them to keep in place the gauze she slathered in anti-aging creams and wore overnight. Grumpy and rumpled, she questioned, "Who're the flowers for?"

You huffed a laugh as you watched her pull out a chair and drop into the seat, seeming as ill-suited to the morning as you.

"They're for Maddie," Nanna explained and, immediately, Ginny straightened, her glazed eyes turning sharp as they landed on you.

"She's back?" She asked.

You shook your head, "No," and you were tired, so tired, and couldn't quite seem to formulate the words to explain why you were taking flowers to school for Maddie who hadn't actually returned from wherever she'd run off to in order to accept them.

"Are they building a shrine already?" Ginny asked.

A feeling of awareness clawed through the mist that had filled your head. You felt an insidious tickle in the back of your nose, gasped a breath, and then released a cathartic blast of a sneeze, expelling that horrible, heady floral scent.

You blinked several times as you recovered your wits, glancing at the bouquet and then between Nanna and Ginny, at last able to think clearly, "Something like that. We're just trying to stay positive. Principal Hartman said he'd pass along whatever we bring in to Maddie's mom." And there you were, feeling like yourself again, able to map out a plausible lie to keep Wally (and, by extension, Maddie-as-a-ghost) safe from whatever Ginny or your mother could do if they discovered you were conspiring with the school's dead.

Ginny returned to a slouch, propping her head on her fist, "That's nice of you." She looked halfway back to sleep when you gave her a kiss goodbye, patting your thigh limply and muttering a slurred farewell. As you shrugged into your leather jacket, you heard Ginny scoff at Nanna, barking, "Don't you bring that nasty stuff near me, I don't know how you drink it," and couldn't help but snort because, truly, not even a man dying of thirst would accept a cup of that tea.

"I'm taking mom's car." You announced, peeking back into the kitchen. Your mother was on what constituted for her as a work trip; taking money to perform a ceremony that had no bearing on the ghosts—if they hadn't already crossed over as many of them had—at all. The concept was as stupid as it was a scam and you were revolted that someone in your family, who you'd once respected, was capable of performing such a farce.

Fucking. Ghost weddings.

You pressed your lips in a line in an effort to control the disgusted expression you knew you'd make upon thinking about it. Without looking at you, Nanna and Ginny gave their assent and carried on bickering after wishing you a pleasant day.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

"So," Maddie said in a neutral tone which set Wally's teeth on edge, "How long have you guys really known each other?"

It was just him and her outside, lingering by the door waiting for you and Xavier to arrive. Wally leaned while Maddie sat on an empty bike rack adjacent to the entrance, looking out over the parking lot like watchmen on duty. The others were inside; Ajay had vowed to coax Mina down from the rafters while Charlie and Rhonda had simply wanted to observe how that interaction went after learning Ajay and Mina were entangled in their own version of a relationship. Strange and unconventional and, apparently, wholesome though Wally had no idea what that meant coming from Ajay.

"I was wondering when you were gonna ask me." Wally said, ducking his head sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted his gaze to Maddie, "Not long. Since Field Day."

Maddie's brows raised, but she remained composed. After a few moments of silence, Maddie spoke again, a smile in her voice, "She talked about you a lot."

Wally swallowed, his heart fluttering at the information, unable to repress the feeling of giddiness that fizzled through him. Regardless, he tried to play it cool, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She always said her 'ghost was so hot' and that she was 'saving herself for her ghost'." She paused, chewed her lip, and stared down at her lap as she thought about what to say next. "Looking back, I guess she thought she could hide in plain sight." And then, with a snort, "And it worked. None of us believed her for a second. It never even crossed my mind that it could be true until I got here."

Wally nudged her side in a friendly motion. "Was she right?" He snickered, teasing, "Am I hot?"

Maddie shoved his head down playfully with a laugh, "You're an idiot." Another comfortable beat. She hummed quietly before she revealed in a gentle tone, "You two are cute together. If it means anything."

"It does," Wally said and it was true. It was more reassuring than it should've been to have someone on the outside see what he saw. Cemented it somehow.

Another few minutes passed before a car pulled into the parking lot. Maddie jumped down from her perch, face screwed up in confusion, "Wasn't she bringing Xavier?"

Wally could see the tension she'd been holding in her shoulders slowly diminish as you parked and climbed out. Alone. He and Maddie made their way over to greet you, twin smiles of relief on their faces. Wally hadn't been keen to see that dickbag anytime soon. It was better for everyone that you'd decided to leave him behind.

"Hey guys," You said, eyes automatically finding Wally's, his heart beating that much harder in his chest. You seemed to read the unspoken question and informed, "I thought we'd get more accomplished if Xavier wasn't here."

Maddie nodded, "Smart," visibly grateful for your forethought.

Wally treaded around the front of the car you'd driven and scooped you up into a solid hold, one arm under your thighs while the other clamped at a diagonal on your back, his hand tangling in your hair. Looking at you closely, he could see the exhaustion beneath the surface and felt a pang of guilt for agreeing with everyone (including you) that you should come as early as permissible by school standards.

"Hey, baby," He uttered, pressed his forehead to yours with a lopsided, affectionate grin, and hinted greedily for a kiss that you supplied without complaint. He almost groaned as your lips yielded under his, the simple touch striking a match low in his belly. Fuck, he wanted you. Like, always. Was hardwired at this point to get aroused whenever you were within arm's length. It was driving him half insane that he couldn't climb into the back of the car with you, have you straddle his lap, and show you how affected he was by you.

"Rhonda's right," Maddie commented from the sidelines, referencing something Rhonda had said the previous night after you'd left with your brother-in-law. "You guys are gross."

You pulled away from Wally with a cackle, prompting him to place you back on your feet, and said, "Oh, like you and Zav aren't just as bad."

Twirling around and bending (very nicely) into the backseat of the car to collect your things, you didn't see the look that flashed across Maddie's face, one of hurt and betrayal and anger, but Wally did and it made him want to grab you by the shoulders, and shake you until you stopped thinking the world of Xavier Baxter. He wouldn't dare do that, of course, you were too precious, and he couldn't imagine doing anything to frighten you like that. On the contrary, he'd proudly do things to Xavier that would earn Wally a spot on a Most Wanted list if he'd still been alive.

He pushed those thoughts down when you straightened, lifting a lush, full bouquet into your arms which you handed over to Maddie in a way that signaled to Wally you and she were used to each other's motions and mannerisms. Again, you reached into the car, grabbed your backpack, and hoisted it out of the backseat. Wally noticed that it seemed to weigh more to you than normal and took it from you, slinging it over his shoulder with a broad grin.

"Such a gentleman," You teased, though Wally could see how much you enjoyed the gesture by the way you pinked up so sweetly. He slung his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side as you and he walked, stamping a kiss to your hair and openly breathing in the scent of musky vanilla and coconut.

"Wait." Maddie said, just as you and Wally were about to reach the door. You and he paused, turning to look at Maddie as she regarded the bouquet in her hands and then the backpack on Wally's shoulder, an intense cast to her features. "How..." She squinted at you, "Where are the originals?" Scanned back to the car, then you, then the bouquet.

"Originals?" You asked, completely lost, though Wally recognized what Maddie meant. It hadn't occurred to him how unfeasible it was that he still had the notes you'd given him stashed away in his private, just-for-him corner of the school; none of the resets between now and then had vanished them as resets were wont to do.

"Yeah, the originals." Maddie repeated.

Wally stepped in, taking over the explanation since Maddie appeared to struggle with how to phrase that every object they, as ghosts, picked up was just a clone of one that stayed anchored in the living world. He did his best to describe it, beckoning both you and Maddie to follow him so he could show you an example with a piece of chalk in an unlocked classroom. He lifted it, of course wielding the copy while the original remained in place, untouched, not even a sign that it'd been tampered with.

You cocked your head, lifting the original and handing it to Maddie who took it without issue. Experimenting, Maddie placed it back on the chalk ledge, left it there for multiple seconds, and then instructed Wally to, "Pick it up now."

Wally did.

As in he actually did. Picked up the original, no immense, herculean emphasis of energy required (and that very, very rarely worked, normally resulting in a brief flicker of an already on-its-way-out lightbulb). How had Wally not noticed before?

"Gnarly," Wally laughed, tossing the chalk in the air and catching it. "Do you think the living see it floating if I'm holding it?" He began to zoom it around like a toy airplane. "I wonder if it works the other way."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Like, things that we brought with us into the afterlife," Maddie clarified, "Do you think you could make them real on your side?"

You shrugged and admitted, "I didn't even know I could do this until you guys pointed it out." And then you sighed and rubbed your temples, "Another thing to add to the laundry list of stuff I have to look in to." You looked at Maddie, "I'd probably need someone who can't see you guys to confirm whether or not it works both ways."

Wally strode over to you, putting the chalk back down on the ledge as he went. He adjusted the weight of your backpack on his shoulder so he could cradle your face in both of his big palms. "One thing at a time, baby," He said, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Let's check off giving Mina the flowers and then go from there, okay?"

You slumped, thankful, and slanted into him so that your forehead was pressed to the center of his chest, "That sounds like a good plan."

Together, you, Wally, and Maddie strolled to the theater, passing Mr. South who welcomed you with a friendly wave and a short hello. His eyes seemed to flicker this way and that, as if sensitive to the school lighting, as he watched you walk by, Maddie close to your side, Wally a half-step behind and falling farther back as he studied Mr. South. Vaguely, he heard the man mutter, "Mm, dahlias," but that was about as much fuss as he expressed. Nothing to indicate Mr. South saw a puppeted bouquet or levitating backpack drifting down the hall of their own volition.

Wally caught up to you and Maddie quickly, his hand finding the small of your back on instinct. Rhonda and Charlie were already outside the theater when you, Maddie, and Wally arrived, Charlie rising from where he'd been seated on the floor as Rhonda pushed herself off the wall, today's lollipop stuffed into her cheek.

"Well, Ajay got her down," She announced, rolling her eyes, "But she refuses to talk to us. She won't even answer Ajay if he asks because she knows the questions aren't his." Belligerent, Rhonda shook her head, "And I thought Janet was a diva."

Charley shook his head, "I'm sorry, but that," He hooked his thumb over his shoulder to stipulate Mina's behavior, "isn't anywhere near as bad as Janet was. At least Mina was polite when she told us where to go."

Rhonda conceded with a bob of her head, pursed lips, and raised brows. Upon noticing the flowers, she remarked, "Huh, you came through, strawberry pie," her tone impressed, "Next time you should bring lover boy a new wardrobe," a smirk at Wally and a coy look at you, "He looks pretty good in jeans."

Wally cleared his throat and squeezed you to him tightly, his gaze soft and imploring as he said, "Ignore her, you don't have to bring me anything," then to Rhonda, "She's not our personal gofer."

Rhonda raised her hands in surrender, glimpsing at Charley in amusement, "No need to blow your jets, superstar, it was just a suggestion."

Charley added, "And a joke," as he gave Rhonda a sardonic side-eye. "So, should we get this over with? See if our Split River Phantom has anything useful to share?"

You patted Wally's chest to signal for your backpack which he handed over with a pout, disliking the idea of you hauling it around when you were so tired.

"You guys go do that. I'm going to steal Ajay and see if we can figure out what these symbols mean." You looked at Maddie, "If you guys find anything, let me know."

"How?" Maddie wondered. It wasn't as if she still had a means of communication in the afterlife; the decoy phone had been with Xavier when she'd been thrown from her body, and, as far as Wally knew, her real phone was in pieces. Even if she did have a phone...would it have worked? Wally had heard Dawn brag about her 'socials', but she wasn't actually capturing or uploading selfies...was she?

Before he could fall too far down that rabbit hole, he felt your hand grasp his, fingers twined, skin smooth under his thumb. You grinned at Maddie, "That's the best part," you brought your and Wally's joined hands up, "If Ajay and I don't get back before you're done, just manipulate the connection. Wally and I—"

"Don't know if it'll work!" He interrupted, worried that you might've forgotten that all those times he'd felt your emotions like his own or found you in crowded spaces had happened before last night.

It seemed you had because you blinked those darling Bambi eyes up at him, visibly uncertain. Wally saw the instant you realized your mistake, could see the gears turning as you backtracked and reassembled your speech. It didn't take long, maybe a second or two, and then you picked up where you'd left off, saying, "—but it should make it so he can find me."

Rhonda twirled her lollipop, whistled in surprise, "Magic is in.sane."

"It's not magic," You stated mildly, "It's connectedness. I promise there is a difference." You listed into Wally's side, turned your head to hide a yawn, and then seemed to try to shake yourself awake.

In response, Wally, cupped the back of your head and kissed your hair, rubbing his hand up and down your arm while holding you closer. "You gonna be okay?" He asked, concerned that you might not be able to stay upright much longer.

"I'll be fine," You said, however, the assurance you'd meant to offer was dimmed by another yawn you couldn't suppress.

It was then that Ajay appeared. He held the door to the theater open for Charley, Rhonda, and Maddie who waved their see-you-laters to you. Wally released you in measured degrees, careful and considerate, so you wouldn't fall into the space he left behind.

"I'm coming to find you as soon as we get something, okay, baby?"

You nodded, a forced smile on your face that made Wally want to carry you home and tuck you into your bed. Innocently. Innocently. But he couldn't help himself, dipping in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss that still somehow made his breath catch and his heart pound and his belly coil tight with desire.

"Okay, we get it, you're hot for each other, can we go now?" Ajay's voice cut through the muggy atmosphere that now permeated between you and Wally, exasperation pitched shrill as a school bell.

Wally untangled himself from you, hated having to do it, but understood that it needed to be done in order for both you and him to focus on what was important. That was finding clues or proof that Mr. Anderson was involved in Maddie's circumstances and pointing the police away from Simon. Right. Wally was an independent, capable guy who could do what it took to help. He just didn't want to do it without you plastered to him in some way.

"That face is exactly why you two can't be around each other right now." Ajay stated flatly, all but shoving Wally aside and ushering you back down the hall.

With a chuckle, Wally called after you, "I'll see you later, baby!"

"If either of you say 'I'll miss you', I'm boycotting this relationship until I can cross over." Ajay declared, not allowing you to stop and respond.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier sat behind the wheel of his truck, nervous, jittery; inching toward full-blown paranoia after having stopped at your house to pick you up. He'd received your message earlier, the one that had gently told him to stay home and sleep in since you weren't going to crusade after evidence against Mr. Anderson until a more appropriate hour.

But he hadn't been able to get back to sleep, had instead sat in bed contemplating how fucked up everything would inevitably get. And he was scared. Your newfound friendship with Simon made Xavier's veins clog with cold, slimy fear. He had no idea if Maddie had read the message he'd accidentally sent her ("i'm alone. lmk if ur still in the mood, babe🔥"). Had no idea if she'd told Simon about Xavier and Claire. Simon hadn't outright accused Xavier of cheating on Maddie—not to Xavier's face, anyway—but, if Simon did know, it was only a matter of time before it came up and Xavier lost you forever.

Fueled by anxiety and desperation, Xavier had dressed and left the house in a flurry, drove over and at the speed limit in frenzied intervals as he'd forgotten and remembered it by turns. He'd arrived at your place faster than ever before only to discover that, according to Abigail, you'd left about forty-five minutes earlier. Granted, you hadn't explicitly said you'd want to spend the morning by yourself at home, but Xavier couldn't shake the feeling that something was utterly and profoundly wrong.

Why go to the school alone? Why leave him out of it? An agitated growl ruptured from his throat as he smacked the steering wheel, tears springing to his eyes unbidden. He pulled in huge gulps of air to stop himself from tipping into a panicked breakdown, begged the universe or God or whatever was out there that he was overthinking it, that you weren't slipping away from him and everything was okay, it was all going to be okay.

Except it wasn't okay. He'd fucked up and fucked around and made you participate by sending texts about band practices that'd never been scheduled, lies about how you'd needed help around the house and Xavier was family so he'd been obligated to assist. Jesus Christ, what had he done? He couldn't breathe, a balloon in his chest that expanded the closer he got to the school. When he pulled in and saw your mother's car, he was already one foot into a mental crisis.

He parked beside your mother's car and sat for a moment, filtering through a litany of excuses and reasons and apologies to retch at your feet in libation. Xavier couldn't. lose. you. Not you. The only person left in his life who fucking mattered. Hurt and anger and grief and hopelessness funneled into him, a tornado of self-deprecation howling insults that ricocheted inside his skull, the torment building and building and—

"FUCK." He belted, smashing the steering wheel over and over again until his body collapsed forward and he heaved a thick, wet sob.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The other vertices in the barrier projected outward from symbols that varied slightly from the first you'd found. Two were etched in stone, one in a tree planted on the same alignment as the other, and the last had been burned so thoroughly into the dirt that you couldn't dig under it or dig it up.

"Can we call it magic now?" Ajay folded his arms and thinned his lips in a dour line as he watched you dog-dig at the dirt from a new angle. "Because this feels like magic."

You huffed and let yourself fall back on your bum, mopping the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of your sweater. "I mean, it's harnessed energy," you countered, still reluctant to call it something so fantastical when you had dirt caked under your fingernails and math class in twenty minutes. Those mundane, ultra-ordinary truths made it difficult to reconcile the existence of something Harry Potter fought a war with.

Ajay wasn't having it, "Girl, just say it. It's magic."

A squawky noise of denial later and you snapped a picture of the symbol on your phone, finally standing and returning to your backpack which you'd left at Ajay's feet. You dug out the notebook you'd used to scribble down the Futhark alphabet last night before tiptoeing back into Aiden's room and compared the symbol in the dirt to the runes on the page.

"It's like the others," You observed, "It has all the binding elements, except this one also has an extra line here..." You indicated, chewed your lip in thought, frustrated when nothing jumped out at you. Whoever had created these symbols and performed the ritual that accompanied them had either not known anything about the Futhark runes or they'd known too much. Which meant that you had no way of decoding the bastardized symbols by yourself. At least, not without major effort.

"An extra line?" Ajay echoed, "To make us extra trapped?"

You slanted him an unimpressed look, "No, Sassy McQueen...but also kind of yes."

Ajay flashed a victorious grin then crouched to look over your shoulder at your notebook. "Why would someone want to trap ghosts here?"

"Maybe they didn't." You considered as you brainstormed aloud, "Maybe they wanted to trap something and didn't realize the effect their spell—"

"Which is magic."

"—Nghyah," You declined and then continued, "The effect their spell would have on the different realms within the parcel they created."

"I know English isn't my first language, but I can tell that wouldn't make sense to anyone."

You rolled your eyes, clapping your notebook closed and filing it away in your backpack. "Think of the spell like a box. Whoever cast it brought that box down on this specific location, trapping everything in this location in it. But it only affects things outside of the physical world because it's not a physical box."

"...Have you ever seen the Witches of Eastwick?"

"Have you?"

You straightened, bowing your back to loosen the stiffness that had collected in your spine. Ajay took responsibility of your backpack and together you and he walked back toward the school.

After a short silence, Ajay spoke, "You know, Wally mentioned a cult that used to practice around here. He's really into that spooky-ooky, creepy shit." He emphasized with spirit fingers.

You stopped and stared after Ajay, eyes round and mouth ajar, "Wally? Golden retriever, football bro, Wally?"

Ajay turned to walk backward, smiling, "Oh yeah. He was into it before he died, too. A real savant of the deranged history of Split River." He pondered you for a moment and then muttered, "You know you two are allowed to talk when you're alone, right?"

Kissing your teeth, you resumed your stride, waving Ajay off, "In our defense, we haven't actually had a lot of time to be alone since we started talking."

Ajay snorted, but merrily settled his pace to match yours, his gait slower and longer, "He was alive during the rise of the Satanic Panic. If I'm remembering right, he told me about a cult called the Something-Something of Dagda."

"Very helpful."

"They were established before Milwaukee was founded and then faded out of history for awhile."

You sighed drearily, having heard similar tales through the family grapevine as well as your own special-interest research, "Let me guess, the Something-Something of Dagda made a comeback in the '20s when it was fashionable to be associated with the occult?"

Ajay nodded, "I think that's what Wally said. Apparently, they crawled back into the shadows, never to be heard from again, just after the Second World War."

"Typical," You chuckled, shaking your head, "You join a resurrectionist cult and then leave when—"

"How do you know it was resurrectionist?"

"I'm assuming." You confessed, "Dagda is a Celtic god whose staff can resurrect or kill whoever he clubs with it." When Ajay acknowledged your answer with a low oh, you expanded on your previous point, "I guess the members didn't like that their sons didn't all come home in one piece." To put it crudely. Unfortunately, that was the reality of many cults borne from the spiritualism boom in the 1920s. People either got bored or got bitter when their prophet couldn't stand and deliver in the face of a catastrophic global event.

You and Ajay entered the theater from the side door to avoid the students who began to flood the halls as the morning trundled toward the first bell. You found Maddie appearing like the second coming out of the center of the stage, followed closely by Wally, then Rhonda, Charley, and lastly, Mina who turned and closed the trapdoor behind her.

"You find anything?" You inquired as Wally neared you, eagerness writ all over his features.

"Yeah!" Wally grinned, planting himself in front of you to band his arms around your waist, "You?"

"The symbols are definitely based on the Futhark alphabet and they're all designed to keep energies in." You said, snuggling into his front, happy to let him take your weight. He shifted you around so you and he could walk toward the stage, everyone gathered around a spot at the end of the center aisle. Rhonda and Charley sat on the edge of the stage, Ajay joined Mina who leaned beside Charley's legs, and Maddie stood with her back to the door, facing everyone.

As soon as you were within reach, she held out a piece of paper, informing you that, "It's a receipt for new band uniforms signed by Mr. Anderson." You scanned the paper, trying to absorb where it fit in the puzzle, but your brain was rapidly losing steam. Seeming to read your fatigue, Maddie interpreted it on your behalf, "I think he's been stealing money from Booster Club. He's got a whole operation under the stage to sew new patches onto old band uniforms."

All you could think to respond with was, "Holy shit."

"It doesn't prove he had anything to do with what happened to me," Maddie went on, "But I think it'll help Simon."

"Maddie this is awesome." You smiled encouragingly and shambled forward to hug her. With your arm still around her shoulders, you and she looked over the receipt again, particularly the cash amount at the bottom, "Is that how much you figure was in the closet?"

"I'd say it for sure is." She answered, her gaze turning a trepidatious sort of hopeful, "It's Friday, so there's a staff meeting tonight. If we give this to Simon, he can prove that Mr. Anderson is guilty of something and then we can try to figure out where my body is. Together."

"Together." You repeated with a grin because, God dammit, finally, you felt like progress was being made. While not the kind of progress you'd hoped for, it was something, and now that you knew Simon could see Maddie, you didn't have to swerve around landmines in conversation to hide your abilities; you could let him in instead.

It was one step closer to bringing Maddie home.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier hated himself more than he had before his breakdown, having succumbed to the siren call of his vape in the dissociative aftermath. He skulked into the school, shoulders up and hands stuffed in his pockets in an effort to make himself invisible. He wasn't going to his first class, wasn't entirely aware of where he was going, but he followed his feet nonetheless. Since the blissful first hit, his mind had quieted some, though his nerves were still ragged, eyes puffy and bloodshot, hair rumpled, a scab on his lip where he'd bitten it too hard to redirect the emotional pain he'd inflicted on himself.

He was distantly surprised to find himself standing in front of the theater when he eventually lifted his gaze from the ground. Without giving it too much thought, he reached out and opened the door, stepping into the shadowy space beyond. For a moment, a cotton-candy static fuzzed across his brain and made it hard to process whether or not what his eyes saw was real.

It couldn't be, could it?

At the end of the center aisle, you stood, body wilted from exhaustion. Around you were incoherent silhouettes that phased in and out of focus, nothing substantial to them, just distorted shadows that seemed out of place against the direction of what muted light filtered into the theater. What made his breath catch and the balloon in his chest swell bigger wasn't you, standing in the dark, or the uncanny shadows, it was—

"Maddie," He croaked, voice reedy and tight, "You came back."

The fuzziness in his head was instantly replaced by fear when his gaze slid to you, an expression on your face—wide eyes, parted lips, furrowed brows—that Xavier readily interpreted as betrayal. The darkness crowded against him, the rampage of wailing curses picked up within him again, screaming at him for how worthless and stupid and vile he was to do what he'd done.

"I-I'm so sorry," He choked out, pushing the words past the balloon that had expanded from his chest into his throat. Maddie's expression didn't change, something akin to alarm or hate or defeat or all three, he didn't know because his vision was beginning to cloud. "I'm so, so sorry." And then he stumbled sideways, falling into one of the empty seats, curling himself into a ball as if he could make himself disappear. Everything would be better, so much better, if he could just...stop being.

Xavier didn't realize he was crying until he felt your hands on him, pushing his arms away from his head, forcing him to kneel on the ground with you.

"Zav? What's happening? Are you okay? Zav!"

Your words sounded spoken through water and he couldn't get his head above the surface, couldn't breathe, couldn't answer, his body wracked violently with stinging sobs as he kept trying to apologize. He grappled at your back, pinned you against him, a buoy to keep him afloat as the waves crashed over him and threatened to pull him down into the cavernous abyss below.

"I'm sorry, please, don't leave me, I'm so sorry," He begged you, but couldn't hear himself, so he repeated it louder and louder until his throat scraped.

This is the moment, a facsimile of Maddie's voice told him, this is the moment you lose everyone.

And then another voice, unfamiliar, louder than Xavier's, louder than Maddie's, began to roar:

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-THREE - PART TWENTY-FIVE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: In the aftermath of the 100 days in the End Barrens, Wato can't help but want Wifies's company. It's a double edged sword.

Notes: spoilers for wato's 100 days in the hardest minecraft biome!!!!!!! anyway. huh. wuh. i feel like i wrote this possessed. this is a rough and quick fic, using my partial voidwalker clonefies headcanon bc uhhhhh teehee it'd be funny???? definitely not a perfect work and i didnt explore everything id have liked to but i think it's fun. enjoy! divider

Wordcount: 3,165

Wato doesn’t usually spend all their time with others. Not that they’re antisocial, just that escape room planning and building can become an all encompassing set of tasks that pull them away from talking to people. It's involving, fulfilling, and sometimes a quiet, singular endeavor.

But Wifies is here.

He's been here all day, even, filling up Wato’s space, though he does so quietly. He sits across from them on the other side of their desk, writing notes over the plan for one of the rooms Wato is working on. He breathes evenly, though his breath hitches with frustration when things don't add up on paper, and he writes with an easy rhythm that Wato can just about tune out when they focus. He's wearing a black and white sweater, and his headband glints silver in the light, and he's real, and he's here, and he's been here all day because Wato asked, and he's never said no to them.

Wifies glances up. His eyes are a deep, dark violet that makes Wato's skin crawl. Their ears pin back before flicking back into place. He looks back down to his blueprints without comment.

He's so good to them. Wato knows that they've been staring a lot. Wifies takes it in stride, had laughed awkwardly at first before accepting that this was just how Wato was today.

“Is it turning out well?” Wato asks. The silence is getting to them.

“It is, just a couple things that I wish would work better,” he says with a sigh, tapping his pencil on the page. “Like here. I know that it's impossible, but I wish there was a way to guarantee a player left their wool behind, because carpets would be basically an ace for the next room. They'd barely have to puzzle solve if they have carpet.”

Wifies's voice has a kind of consistency that unnerved Wato once upon a time. It reminded them too much of the factory for a while. Now, it's the most comforting thing in the world, the perceived consistency actually crackling with emotion and variance, always soothing and never raised. Wifies is talking and Wato is listening. It's good.

“— and that's all I can think of doing right now, but adding a skulk sensor is kinda a whole different can of worms isn't it?”

Wifies rests his head on his fist, looking at his blueprints like they personally offended him.

“Maybe it's time for a break then. Tea?”

Wifies perks up and Wato laughs. Wato likes tea fine, though they really drink more coffee than anything, but they keep some of the good stuff around just for Wifies. They make their way out of Wato's office and Wifies is behind and his footsteps are muffled, despite Wato’s exceptional hearing. Wato keeps looking over their shoulder at him. He's there, of course, slightly shorter than Wato and not nearly as sleep deprived.

“Hi,” Wifies says as he catches Wato's eye, a little awkward, mostly sincere.

“Hi,” Wato says back. “I have a new tin of rosehip tea.”

Wifies makes a pleased sound, happy and high, though high for him is still pretty low. He loves his teas. Wato doesn't get rosehip, the flavor a bit bland and unlikable to them, but Wifies likes it well enough.

“Rosehip with jasmine is good, they give each other extra flavor and body,” Wifies says, reading Wato's mind as usual.

The kitchen is a small, tight, highly decorated space. Wifies navigates it effortlessly, just as easily as Wato can navigate his kitchen. They're intertwined like that. Easily, effortlessly. Wato measures out coffee grounds, sets his coffee machine up, loses track of Wifies in the noise of the kitchen.

“Wato, can you—”

Darkness, violet, the staticky scent of void and its magicks— Wato jumps, knocking over the sugar container in one fell swoop.

“Fuck,” they say eloquently.

“Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, let me help.”

Wifies cleans up the sugar on the counter, rights the container, and refills it, all while Wato breathes through their initial panic. It was just— they know, they know they're home, they know the End Barrens are long gone, server deleted off the face of the universe, but for a moment, Wifies was just—

“Sorry,” Wifies says again quietly. “I noticed you were jumpy, I should've been more careful not to scare you.”

“No, it's— you're fine. It's fine.”

Wato shakes it off, or at least tries to. Wifies is looking at them the way he always does when he isn't sure what he's done wrong but knows for a fact something’s gone awry. He's surprisingly expressive when he wants to be, eyes round and warm and violet. God. Wato suppresses a flinch, tail lowering.

“Sorry,” Wifies says again.

Wato feels bad. They pat the top of Wifies's head (touch is like an ache, in a way, it's been so long since they've really been skin to skin with anyone, but Wifies's hand touched theirs as they exchanged blueprints and it almost hurt, so deprived of it that it's presence becomes painful) and revel in the springiness of his curls.

“I didn't mean to react so harshly, sorry.”

They finish making their tea and coffee in a spiderweb of thin silence. Wifies stays in their line of sight, leading on the trip back to the office and holding the door open. Wato appreciates it. They work until the sun sets and the daylight sensors activate the redstone lamps in Wato's ceiling.

“I should get going,” Wifies says, which Wato hates to hear. “I need to edit some footage, see if I can get some work done. But, uh, I'll be back tomorrow?”

The way his voice lilts is soft, hesitant. Wato would prefer to not be away from him at all. How could they even explain it? Hey, I was so lonely I imagined you, and now I can't stop myself from wanting your presence to know that you're real and I'm free. And also I missed you. Also your voidwalker traits set me off. Wato hasn't even told him anything about the challenge! Wifies didn't ask. Wato had messaged him, please help me with blueprints?, and Wifies had come with a single minded determination to do so.

Wato thinks maybe that's why it was Wifies and not anyone else. Wifies is kind, thoughtful, always holding his hand out for someone to take. He helps. Even back in the factory, the little Wato remembers of it, the clones were meek things that always wanted to know what Wato was doing, if they could help. Wato could never respond, the mask uninterested in such mindless puppets, but they remember the feeling of it.

It always felt good. Felt like being seen.

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Wato drums their fingers on the desk. “Yeah, bright and early. Or whenever you can I guess. I would— I'd really appreciate it.”

“Of course. Bright and early.”

Wifies smiles. He still leaves, and it still sets Wato’s stomach rolling, but Wato spent most of a hundred days alone, and one more day won't kill them. It won't. The isolation had tried and failed.

At least they can sleep here. Their petal pink bed has never been so enticing a sight. They keep the lights on in their room these days, daylight sensors connected to every room through newly opened redstone channels in the roof and walls. The dark is— it's not good, uncomfortable, they don't want to say the word that comes to mind at first.

Wato pops blocks into a jukebox. It's the longest disc they have and it fills the room with whimsy as they lay in bed and try to sleep. It's kind of hard, sleeping with noise and light, but it's more comforting than it is difficult.

They don't dream.

Wato couldn't be any more grateful for that as dawn cracks the sky open and the redstone lamps shut off. They’re sure that the morning will pass like a blur until Wifies arrives, routine deeper than bone taking over, but there’s a knock at the door as they’re eating. When Wato opens it, it’s Wifies. The morning light makes him golden, but only just; he’s so pale and dark that gold doesn’t work right on him.

“Bright and early,” Wifies says after a beat of silence.

“You took that so literally,” Wato says, opening the door wider and waving Wifies in.

Wifies walks in and he jingles. It’s the strangest thing. Wato looks down and sees a glint of silver on his boots. Wifies notices of course, and he kicks up a heel. Hanging off the loop at the back of his boot is a silver hoop decorated with a colorful feather charm that rattles against the hoop every time he moves.

“Parrot got them for me,” Wifies says, lifting up his pant leg so it’s more visible. “They come in pairs, but I took the other one off and put a different charm on it.”

He shows off the other boot, and Wato sees that the hoop has a black and white yin-yang charm instead.

“You’re so predictable,” Wato says with a snort, closing the door behind them.

“I like having a brand.”

“Yeah yeah, c’mon.”

The irregular weight of each charm makes them reasonably noisy as Wifies walks, makes it easy for Wato to keep track of him with a flicked ear, and they don’t want to ask why he’s suddenly started wearing them.

Their day goes the same as yesterday— time spent at Wato’s desk, scratching through blueprints and discussing different solutions. Soon it’d reach the point where they’d have to start building to fully work out any kinks and get it running.

“You think Ken is gonna break it?” Wifies asks at one point. He’s chewing on the end of his pen— his pen, because Wato banned him from using their pens after he popped one with his teeth a few months ago— and he’s not looking at Wato.

He knows he’s done something wrong. Or, he thinks he knows he’s done something wrong. He’s dodgy the way a dog might be, still committing the crime but looking preemptively apologetic about it.

“Ken. . . I’m not sure if I’m gonna ask Ken to do anything for a while,” Wato says carefully. It’s not like they want to string Wifies between them like a knot. “The 100 days. . . Ken left me alone before the first quarter was even done. So I’m not really in the mood to share with them right now.”

Wifies stops chewing on his pen long enough to say, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Wifies doesn't continue to chew on his pen.

“So you finished 100 days by yourself?”

“I did.”

“Must’ve been hard.”

He means it too. He's not placating or trying to push the conversation, he means it, he knows what the End Barrens are like and he means it.

“It was.”

“Was there— like, what even spawned?”

“No structures or anything. Just. . . a lot of Endermen. Lots and lots of Endermen. Wandering traders, pillager patrols, that kind of thing. Um, underground there was some copper and iron too actually. They generated with blobs of granite and such.”

Wifies nods along, hums at the right times, but he's looking at the blueprints again and not at Wato.

“Must've been really, really hard. How'd you get to the Nether then?”

“Y'know how like— how wandering traders will turn invisible at night? And then in the morning they drink milk? I killed one just as they drank the milk and it dropped the bucket, and I used that to create a Nether portal. I had to haul lava over and over again to spawn, it was so tedious. And then the pillager patrols, the ominous banner they drop? I used that and some lava to light the portal.”

“And from there it was probably easier.”

Probably. The Nether had so many more resources to use. But the lava had been too lustrous and the days too long and Wato had stepped right off that cliff and ended it all.

“Yeah,” they say with a shrug. “Now I just kinda wanna focus on escape rooms again though. These are easy for me at least.”

“It's coming together real nice,” Wifies says. He's back to chewing on his pen.

“We can probably start building it tomorrow. I'm pretty sure we're almost done.”

There's a cracking noise and black ink splatters all over Wifies's mouth and clothes. He curses, and Wato scrambles for some tissues, the acrid scent of ink filling the air. They hand the tissues over, and Wifies presses them to his mouth. Wato finds a trash can and comes around to dump the popped pen into it. Thankfully, the now ruined blueprint Wifies was working on is one Wato has duplicates of, so they dump it out too.

Wifies keeps the tissues to his mouth though, and Wato gets concerned.

“Let me see,” Wato insists, placing the trash can down and turning Wifies's chair so they're facing each other.

Wifies glances up, his eyes are so violet, and then back down. The black ink stains right through the tissues, looks bloody despite the fact it's too dark to be blood.

Endermen don't bleed. Wato hadn't really realized it before the 100 days began, but Endermen don't bleed. They collapse into a dry pile of crackling scales and bones and eyes before poofing out of existence. Despite that, enderpearls are always a little slick with something like blood when first picked up; it's thin, periwinkle, and so quick to evaporate that you almost never get to feel it once you pick the pearl up. Wato had plenty of time to get acquainted with it, though.

“ ‘s okay,” Wifies struggles to talk, clearly holding his mouth open under the tissues so as to not swallow ink. “I just gotta clean up.”

Wifies stands up in a single jagged jerk, and Wato has to scramble back to not get hit by him. He leaves so quickly that Wato is shocked.

“Did you get hurt?” Wato calls out after him, shuffling to the doorway to peer down the hall where Wifies presumably ran off to the bathroom.

Wato waits and waits, but Wifies doesn't respond. Maybe he's just embarrassed? Wato hesitates for a moment longer before making their way to the bathroom. The door is shut. They knock.

“Wifies?”

“I'm good!” Wifies calls out, opening the door and peeking around it. “I'm okay, sorry for scaring you. The— I think a piece of the plastic split my lip, but it's all healed now.”

He's managed to get the ink off his face, and there are wet spots on his gray sweatshirt where the ink has stained it. There's a smudge of wine colored blood left on his upper lip though. It has a blue undertone, much cooler looking than Wato's own. Another reminder of the fact Wifies was made with void.

“Looks like you missed a spot,” Wato says, and Wifies turns back to wash his mouth again.

Does the water sting? Not everything from the End is allergic to water, and Wifies isn't explicitly spliced together with Enderman genetics. The cloning process was a mix of different things— technology, genetics, magic, there was even skulk involved at one point. Each clone was, ironically, unique in how it was made, no formula working the same twice in a row. This Wifies smells like void and the pseudo-citrus of chorus fruit, sees better in the dark, breathes out plumes of frozen breath when he's upset and can't always keep eye contact when angry.

Why did Wato cling to him so strongly?

Wifies turns around again, wiping at his mouth. They lock eyes and Wifies looks away. 

“Did I get it?”

“Why won't you look at me?”

Wifies startles, eyes wide as he forces himself to stare at Wato.

“What?”

“You’re avoiding looking at me. Why?”

“I'm not.”

“I'm not— you are, Wifies.”

“I,” Wifies looks away again. “You look. . . unhappy when I look at you. So I don't want to.”

It's easy to cling to Wifies. Gentle voiced Wifies who wants to be liked more than anything, facing Wato’s unconscious ire and not saying a word. Of course it had to be Wifies, because who else would put up with any of Wato's unsure madness? Who else would avoid Wato's gaze and put— put what are basically catbells on their boots just because Wato’s scared?

And that's the word, isn't it? Scared. Wato's scared. Now that it's over, now that the walls of their prison have fallen, they're scared of going back, of being alone, of fucking Endermen ruining their shit.

But really, they're not scared of Wifies. Hugging him is easy. 

“I'm sorry,” Wato says.

Wifies clams up. He barely hugs back. Contact burns, touch feels heavy, foreign, an unknown country that Wato only remembers as a blur.

“It's okay.”

“When I was almost done with the challenge, I imagined you being there,” Wato confesses. Wifies makes a strange, clicky noise. “I showed you around the world, and you listened to me, and told me little facts, and asked me questions. I was so alone, and I had to imagine you there. I've never wanted anything more than to just see you again.”

Wifies holds onto them in earnest now, tight and warm. There's nothing truly void-cold about him; he may run cool, but it’s nothing Wato can't help with.

“I missed you. The Endermen couldn't even compare.”

“But I remind you of them,” Wifies murmurs. “Not forever, but for now, I remind you of them.”

Wato imagines Wifies pulling away. They imagine him insisting that he doesn’t want to startle Wato so much, that maybe he should leave. Wato shudders at the thought.

“Please don't leave,” Wato's voice cracks, and now Wifies is holding them as they slump further into his body. It’s such a selfish request, and they know Wifies won’t say no, but they can’t stop themself from asking anyway. “Please. I'm sorry, I know I can't be pleasant to be around right now, but please don't leave me again.”

“I won't,” Wifies says. “I won't, you don't have to be alone.”

They don't want to cry. It would be— they didn't cry in those 100 days, even when they thought there was nothing left to give but tears. But Wifies is real, and here, and he's holding them so tightly that he has to be real, and for the first time since Wato got out of that wretched, rotting house of a world, they weep openly into a shoulder that won't leave.

Wifies doesn't say much. He's not the best with these kinds of strong emotions. But he hugs Wato, and hums a tune into their ear, and lets them ruin his sweatshirt even more, and it's more than Wato has had in over a hundred days.

Wato let's themself have this. Have Wifies. It feels good to have someone stay.

[lightseoul]

prove it

synopsis. bakugou katsuki starts acting differently after your last conversation. you finally arrive at an agreement. (part 1) (part 2)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old), lots of cussing

word count. 3.6k words

a/n. the last part of the series! thanks so much for all the love on the first two parts, everyone! i had such fun writing this <3 again, reblogs, tags, and comments will be highly appreciated!

You barely slept a wink that night.

After that exchange with Bakugou, you immediately left his office, not even bothering to greet his secretary (partly because you couldn’t bear the possibility of her overhearing), and headed straight to your desk.

A feeble attempt at going back to work was made, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you actually got something done.

Even as you commuted your way home and got ready for bed, your brain wouldn’t stop replaying the conversation, lingering especially on his loaded confession.

He still loves you.

What now?

Sadly, just because you're marred by sleep deficit and boy problems doesn't mean you get to miss out on work. You now walk down the hallway of your floor on the way to the break room, desperate to inject some caffeine into your system to get you through the day.

And to help you focus and get your mind off of Bakugou fucking Katsuki, thank you very much.

You’re one foot into the room when it suddenly dawns on you how you consumed the last pod of your favorite brew yesterday (before all the shit went down), which means that you’re now out and caffeine-less.

Fuck.

“Well, don’t you look like shit.”

Mikuri hums from her favorite spot on the sofa, a cup of what you think is green tea in her hands.

“Thanks?” you mumble begrudgingly as you plop yourself across from her, mood growing sourer by the minute.

“What’s up with you?” she sounds amused, a brow quirked in question.

You sigh, smoothing the wrinkle on your blazer you didn’t have the energy to iron out that morning. “Am sleep-deprived and out of coffee. Not everyone can be chipper like you on this fine day, I guess.”

“No, you’re not?”

You sit up, eyes narrowing, “You mean to say I look like shit normally and not just because I didn’t get enough sleep?”

She frowns, “You know that’s not what I mean. What I meant is that no, you’re not out of coffee.”

“Look,” she gestures to the beverage area with her free hand.

Your brows shoot up in response as you take in the freshly stocked shelf.

Weird, you think to yourself.

You were normally the one to restock on that specific flavor, being the only one on your floor who is partial to it.

Unless…

You shake your head to rid yourself of the unwelcome thoughts, willing to crush the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Mikuri doesn’t get the chance to comment on your unusual behavior because the Performance Management head of your HR team pops in through the door, a grin adorning his face.

“Good morning, boss! See you in 15.”

Yamakawa, the Recruitment head, rifles through her documents before standing up to distribute them to you and the other sub-department leads.

She goes around the room to hand you what seems to be a substantial amount of pages, “Here’s the status report on Bakugou’s new sidekick.”

“Already?” you splutter, gaining the attention of your direct subordinates. You straighten up, slightly embarrassed. “I thought they’re just starting today?”

“Yeah, well. We figured you’d want to hear it,” Yamakawa says as she gets seated and goes through her copy.

“Get this,” she continues, “he’s way more cooperative than we predicted him to be. Moriyama-san, or Water Jet Hero: Aqua Girl, is already in his office, discussing—” she glances at the report, “—battle strategies and joint training schedules as we speak.”

The others hum in acknowledgment as you sit there, still struggling to wrap your head around what was just said.

“And no one coerced him to do this?” Tanaka, the Performance Management head, pipes in. You whip to look at Yamakawa, anticipating her answer.

“Apparently, he emailed Moriyama-san yesterday himself to set the meeting.”

Delighted noises erupt across the room as you stare at the Recruitment head in disbelief.

“This is great news, right?” the Socialization head exclaims. “If we’re talking long-term, Bakugou’s workload will definitely lessen with a good sidekick around, meaning we’ll get fewer angry outbursts and a more decent-to-be-around boss!”

You know they’re making sense, and that this is supposed to be amazing news to hear as the HR department head, but you can’t help the tinge of anticipatory dread rising in your gut.

“Why don’t you seem happy?” Tanaka asks you, before turning to the others. “Hey, why isn’t Y/N happy?”

The unusual events don’t end after that.

To your surprise, Bakugou starts to attend meetings that concern him, instead of the usual—letting Kirishima do all the coordinating with you and your department. He’s even offered to help you with your analysis report on his new sidekick (quite awkwardly, at that), which you so quickly and frantically declined in front of everyone.

You suspect your subordinates are starting to deem you as weird, too.

If they only knew.

Regardless, with each passing day, you seem to be seeing more and more of him around the office, and needless to say, it’s messing with your head.

The always-stocked shelf of coffee isn’t helping either.

It’s gotten to the point where it’s starting to affect your sleep as well, with how much you overthink these sudden changes in his behavior.

In an attempt to get your mind off him and the confusing mix of hope and dread circling your stomach, you start to drown yourself in work.

Ah, your ever-trusty friend: avoidance.

You stand by the coffee machine as it does its magic, your foot tapping against the floor impatiently. You glance at the wall clock, which reads 8:01 PM.

You sigh, grabbing the freshly brewed beverage not even a second after the machine dings.

It’s been two weeks since that heated conversation with Bakugou, and one since your self-mandated oath to bury yourself with work, at least until your thoughts get a little bit less muddled and Bakugou stops acting differently.

“You’re still here?”

You startle from your absentminded stirring and look toward the source of the voice.

Speak of the devil.

Seeming as though he’s fresh from a shower, you stare at Bakugou as he stands by the doorway of the break room.

You eye the duffel bag that’s slung over his shoulder.

“You’re leaving already?”

Fuck, you think to yourself. Now you feel like a creep for knowing that Bakugou leaving two hours after his shift is considered early in his dictionary.

And now you feel stupid for answering his question with another question.

What’s gotten into you?

“Yeah,” he answers curtly, not offering much of an explanation. “What’re you doing working overtime?”

You place the mug on the marble countertop and cringe when it makes a loud, clashing noise.

You turn back to face him. “Have to work on the biannual report.” You shrug, as nonchalantly as you can, “It’s due soon.”

Bakugou grunts in acknowledgment, shifting on his feet.

“Well, thank you for your hard work,” he offers. “And for—uh—helping me choose my sidekick.”

Your stomach whirls in delight despite yourself.

You clear your throat, “Again, I was just doing my job.”

At that, he deflates ever so minutely, so you follow it up with: “But you’re welcome. I heard you’re thinking of hiring another one?”

“Yeah, just to help with the workload,” he nods. “I met him yesterday.”

“...You’re right, by the way,” Bakugou adds after a few seconds pass without you saying anything.

“Huh?”

He looks away, breaking eye contact. “I don’t like how similar we are. But he’s good.”

You have no idea how he knew you said that.

Scratch that—it was probably Kirishima.

Damn that meddler.

You clear your throat again in an attempt to change the subject and drop the conversation in its entirety.

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

Bakugou meets your eye again, and for a moment he looks like he’s about to say something, then hesitates.

He opens his mouth ever so slightly before closing it again, eyes still fixed on you, before simply saying: “You too.”

At that, he turns on his heel and trudges towards the elevators.

Once you’re sure he’s out of sight and earshot, you bring your hand up to clutch at your heart, which is going at an alarmingly fast rate.

“Shit.”

You can’t still be in love with him?

“What?!” Mina hops on her feet, almost knocking your glass of iced tea off the table.

“Dude, you’ve got to stop doing that,” you seethe, looking around your go-to café. It’s unusually barren on a Saturday afternoon.

You look back at her, “People stare, you know. And besides, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL?!” she parrots incredulously.

“Just—” you scramble for words, “please sit back down?”

At your pleading tone, Mina finally gets seated, but her pinched eyebrows tell you she’s far from being done with the conversation.

“Fine,” she relents, “but you’ve got some explaining to do, missy.”

You sigh, “Okay. What do I have to explain to you?”

“Wha—” she starts, aghast, “I mean—first of all, why the fuck are you asking me to contact your blind date when three weeks ago, you were practically disgusted with the idea of going on one?”

“We talked,” you shift your eyes away from her. “Bakugou and I.”

Mina snorts.

“Let me guess. You realized you still love him?”

Your head whips to look at her, “Mina!”

“What?” she spits back. “Don’t use that accusatory tone on me.”

“I have the right to use this accusatory tone on you. I have a feeling a certain someone broke her promise about not saying anything about our last conversation with Bakugou.”

At that, Mina visibly cringes.

“In my defense,” she starts, voice raised, “it was only because that cemented how you’re both still into each other!”

You scoff.

“Aren’t you?” she presses, shooting you a pointed look, “Still into him?”

“I—I don’t know okay,” you raise your voice, inadvertently catching a few café-goers’ attention. You sink back into your seat in embarrassment.

“All I know is that the circumstances between us still haven’t changed. And that this shit is confusing—he’s confusing.”

You wave your hand around vaguely, “He’s been acting all weird and stuff.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters…”

“Hmmm…”

“What do you mean, hmmm?” you ask, exasperated.

She rolls her eyes at you, “Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that he’s trying to prove you something?”

At that, your heart leaps in your throat. You push it down, though, as best as you can. Crossing your arms across your chest, you huff.

“If he thinks restocking my coffee for me is proving something, he’s got another thing coming for him.”

Mina guffaws, and you can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. Once the laughter has died down, though, she eyes you for a moment before sighing in resignation.

She picks up her phone and thumbs out something on her keyboard.

“Well, you’re in luck,” she starts, “Daichi-san is still interested in meeting you.”

You don’t know whether to be annoyed at Mina for ignoring your earlier request to cancel or be grateful for indulging you on your current one.

Not wanting to change her mind, you merely opt for mumbling a quick ‘thank you’, glancing at your phone as it dings with a message from her containing the engineer’s number.

You look around the interior of the restaurant, past the windows of the private room you’re in where a beautiful traditional garden lies, illuminated by the dim orange outdoor lighting.

You chance a peek at Daichi, who is already looking at you when your eyes meet.

Embarrassed, you look down at your ridiculously elaborate main course, finding yourself grateful that you opted for the fancier of your two dresses earlier this evening.

“So,” he breaks the silence as he pours you a glass of wine whose name you can’t even begin to pronounce. “Ashido-san told me you work at the Ground Riot agency?”

“Yes,” you smile gratefully as you bring your glass to your lips and take a sip. “I’ve been working there for a year now.”

“Must be exciting, huh?” he adds pleasantly, “working for top Pro Heroes?”

Man.

You purse your lips together, not wanting to seem stilted by the question. “It is. It can get quite hectic, though.”

He hums in agreement, “I get that.”

Daichi then proceeds to talk about the agency where he works, and normally you’d be kind enough to actively listen and throw in some follow-up questions, but your mind is now drifting towards Bakugou and your last encounter at the mention of the Pro Hero.

What did he want to say to you?

“L/N-san?”

“Huh?”

Daichi chuckles awkwardly, “I was just asking if you wanted some spice on your salmon."

Spice.

Bakugou would’ve wanted some.

Bakugou, you think to yourself.

Bakugou.

“Bakugou?”

You gape at the figure looming over your dining table.

The very man is standing there in his regular clothes that would’ve disguised his identity if it weren’t for his distinct blonde hair and hulking figure.

“What are you doing here?!”

“I need to talk to you.”

You nervously glance at your date, who seems to be starstruck by the Pro Hero in front of him.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something?” you whisper-shout.

Bakugou barely pays him any attention—gaze remaining on you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think an unspoken ‘please’ lies at the tip of his tongue.

You shake your head in bewilderment, or in an attempt to shake off these thoughts—you don’t know.

“Don’t you have the night shift? And how’d you know I was here?”

He exhales heavily, jaw tensing.

“I had Kirishima cover for me. And…” He looks away for a brief moment, before turning back and fixing his gaze on yours. “I asked Mina, and she told me you’d be here.”

You don’t know what comes over you, but at that, you stand up on your feet and stare him down.

“You can stop now, Katsuki,” you hush, wary of your date eavesdropping on your conversation. “Quit wasting your time on me just to prove a point and go back to the agency. You’ve done enough.”

His eyebrows furrow in what you’ve grown to identify as defiance, but he doesn’t make a move to fight back or leave.

Instead, he says through gritted teeth: “I’m not just trying to prove a fucking point, Y/N.”

“Then what are—”

“Excuse me?”

You both whip your heads in the direction of the voice, only to see Daichi sporting a sheepish look on his face as his eyes dart between the two of you.

A pang of guilt courses through you at the sight.

He clears his throat, “Do you guys need a minute alone?”

“No, we’re just—”

“Yes.”

You turn back to look at Bakugou in angry confusion. To your astoundment, he leans in ever slightly, mouth nearing your ear. From how close you are, you see how his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps before speaking.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he says: “I can’t pretend that this isn’t bothering me.”

You jerk away at the sensation and take a step back, flustered. Before you can even gather your bearing, Daichi speaks up again, albeit quite hesitantly.

“I know I’m supposed to be the one leaving here, but if you want some privacy, this restaurant has a private patio right to your left.”

“I can’t believe you interrupted us like that,” you spew as you step out into the restaurant’s patio, which is fortunately empty except for the two of you.

Bakugou follows behind you, trying to catch up as you speak.

“I just needed to talk to you.”

At that, you spin around to face him, and he halts in his step in front of you.

Incredulous, you stare at him for a few seconds.

“Talk,” you finally command.

His eyes widen in surprise, and you can tell he didn’t expect this conversation to arrive at this point so soon.

A moment passes, but not a single word is uttered. Bakugou’s mouth opens and closes, opens and closes, as he attempts to get a word out but to no avail.

“What, now you don’t have anything to say?” you ask pointedly, irritation bubbling in you by the second.

You wait for a few more, excruciatingly quiet seconds before huffing in defeat. And disappointment—you finally admit to yourself.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you turn on your heel, “I have a poor date to return to.”

You start to head for the restaurant’s back door when Bakugou makes a grab for your hand, spinning you around to face him.

“Just—wait.”

His voice is pleading now, frustration and desperation evident in his tone. You’re itching to yank your hand back, which is getting alarmingly clammier by the second, but you fight the urge.

The pained look on Bakugou’s face is enough to freeze you solid.

This time around, you patiently wait for him to gather his words with his hand still wrapped around yours and your heart betraying you, beating at an abnormally fast pace.

What feels like an hour goes by before he finally manages to speak.

And what comes out of his mouth throws you right off.

“I strengthened our coordination with the other agencies around the district.”

“...What?”

You absentmindedly touch your face with your free hand.

You can’t be having a stroke right now.

Bakugou shifts on his feet, a nervous tic you’ve noticed developed over the years.

Okay, if you’re coherent enough to observe that, maybe you’re not having a stroke.

“I mean—” he scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “—Shitty Hair and I, we clarified jurisdictions around the area so that the two of us won’t be the go-to contact every time there’s a villain around.”

“I’m still not following, Katsuki.”

He ignores your comment, choosing to continue on his tangent instead.

“And I started seeing my therapist again. That damned hag went on telling me she was glad I’m getting help again like she was my mother.”

You blink at him as the gears start turning in your head.

Jurisdiction.

Less overtime.

More sidekicks.

Therapy.

Communication.

Suddenly, everything clicks.

“Maybe I am trying to prove a point,” Bakugou mumbles, more to himself than you.

“But it’s not just that,” he continues, looking back at you and not letting you get a word in.

“I’m here to tell you that I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect. Despite all the adjustments I’ve made, there are still gonna be days when I have no choice but to prioritize my duties as a hero over you.”

He looks down at your joint hands and squeezes, “Over us.”

“But I’m trying my best,” he declares with such certainty it knocks the wind off your lungs. “And I’ll keep doing so, if you’ll give me a chance to prove to you that I can do it.”

A million questions race through your mind. Why couldn’t he have done this for you the first time around? How is this time going to be any different? Are the changes going to be enough?

But he’s staring at you with such longing and hope and determination that the only thing you can think of is: How can you not?

Dizzy from the revelation and robbed of all words, all you can do is nod in affirmation as the tears you didn’t even notice were there start falling down your cheek.

A sigh of relief wracks Bakugou’s body as he scoops you in his arms, engulfing you in an embrace that has you sobbing even more on his shoulder.

The wet sensation spreading on your bare shoulders tells you he’s crying, too.

After what feels like an eternity of shedding tears and being wrapped in each other’s arms, Bakugou finally moves to unwrap his limbs around you, now holding you at an arm’s length.

Now not in spite of yourself, your hand shoots up to wipe off the tear streaks on his face, which he leans into.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” he whispers after a moment.

Your hand freezes in its track. “For what?”

“For not being able to immediately answer back when you asked me if you loving me changed anything.”

He looks down at his feet, uncertain. “I think—I just—” he stutters, “Fuck.”

You can’t help but chuckle in response, and he looks up at your face at the sound. He’s trying to playfully pout, but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s feeling the farthest from playful.

Flashing him what you hope is a reassuring smile, you reach for the hand on your shoulder and squeeze it. “Go on, Katsuki.”

He sighs for the nth time at your coaxing, the slightest bit of relief flashing across his features.

“At that moment,” he finally continues, voice raspy, “I guess I was just scared shitless. I was paralyzed with doubt—in myself, in my capability to not mess up the second time around.”

He huffs, eyeing you, “Didn’t occur to me how stupid that was until I was walking home later that night.”

You’re about to reassure him when he snorts. “The fuck am I saying—I’m still scared.”

At that, you audibly laugh, running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. He visibly softens at the gesture, lids fluttering shut for a moment. When he opens them, you then look him straight in the eye—the laughter long gone, now replaced with a palpable seriousness.

“I’m scared, too,” you say, voice quiet. “But we’ll try and make things work. Right, Katsuki?”

He nods vigorously, hand clenching yours and his crimson orbs filled with nothing but sincerity that all the apprehensions floating in your mind suddenly disappear.

“We will.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @bakugouswh0r3 @poemzcheng @lovra974 @jasmixs @xoneaboveallx @bontensh0e @kooromin @sirenmoi @buzzbuzz-hm @xzsanaa @baddecisionsworld @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @i-simp-to-much @goldenglow149 @fixed211 @zenxvii @roses-arerosies @tiredjuniper @curbstompedrice @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @bkgnotsuma @6423btw @kaeremin @ghastly-san @jasmixs @javochqaa @nnubee @just-ambxrr @idk-sam @dream-walker-cat @kitthepurplepotato @endlessfreaky @myrunawaysweets @bxbyyyjocelyn @smolbeannnn @seabass17 @serendipitous-fernweh @the-weeping-author

[lightless-flame-official]

gerry keay (classic flavor):

skinny. not in a way most people notice off the bat, because he's quite tall and very good at looking big, but leitner hunting burns a lot of calories and he's been chronically underfed for most of his life

eye tattoos on each of his joints, placed there by supernatural means as a protective ward against other powers

his hair always looks like shit for several reasons, including but not limited to:

- he doesn't like to dye it when his mother is around, both because of the vulnerability of the position and because he doesn't like to be Perceived by her while doing anything he actually. ya know. enjoys. this means that it has a lot of time to fade and his roots grow out.

- if she's around too often for a stretch of time, he has to find a local business he hasn't already been banned from and rinse it out in one of their sinks. this leaves it looking understandably patchy and rushed.

- the dye he uses is cheap as hell -- having his own money is an occasional luxury which cannot be taken for granted.

- he just. generally doesn't take care of himself and his hair suffers overall as a result. he doesn't shower often enough and when he does he uses precisely one (1) type of soap. and it's like. if they have irish springs bar soaps in england then it's that and if they don't then it's the closest equivalent.

he isn't actually like. goth. as we would think of it.

black clothes don't show bloodstains and they made him feel safe edgy and dangerous as a teenager.

we're talking thrift store jeans purchased when he was 16 an never replaced. maybe some band tees. boots for marching into a den of hunt avatars.

the leather jacket is also secondhand and while yes he does feel very badass and cool in it it's also a practical piece. good for fighting. especially when the people you're fighting might have claws or want to set you on fire.

sewing needle piercings with visible scarring around them.

he just generally looks. kinda sick all the time? again, not something that usually registers because he's also good at being intimidating but if you're looking for it there's all kinds of evidence of chronic sleep deprivation and malnutrition. he looks unhealthy, concerning.

gerry keay (tmagp):

goth. like, real goth. like buying from thrift stores still but more often and having fun with it now.

we're talking fishnets. we're talking eyeliner. we're talking black lipstick. we're talking absurd and impractical jewelry. we're talking dabbles in lacy skirts and definitely owns a corset. and yes he still wears a leather jacket but exclusively because it feels cool and badass. he's goth babey!

no longer skinny. precise body type is whatever your heart tells you is true but three square meals agree with him and he's gained a very noticeable amount of weight.

the hair dye is still not professional, his roots grow in occasionally and it's still a bit patchy, because he's still doing it at home, but also. he's doing it at home. it's fun, and he has fun with it. the dye is better quality. gertrude helps him with touchups. black is still a favorite but he's dabbled in other colors, dark purples and greens and blues.

loves to be covered in stuff. when he's baking, he will intentionally smear flour on his black pants and make it look accidental, and when he paints he doesn't wash his hands. this is partially so he can see the evidence himself, and partially because he wants people to notice it and ask. he wants to say, "oops, i was baking earlier, i must've wiped my hands on my pants."

he still has shitty irresponsible piercings from when he was a teenager. the more recent ones are more professional.

his tattoos are pretty and useless. he designed most of them himself.

there's color in his face. sleeping gets a little easier every night.

[hoonvrs]

REWIND — p. sunghoon

PAIRING sunghoon x gnr

DESC. break ups were never easy, especially with your first love. after some time, moving on became easier.

GENRE angst, is this considered hurt no comfort??

WARNING break up, moving on

W. COUNT 0.6k

S. NOTES i love angst so much

FOR. 1/2 jangkku ( @okwonyo ) celestial ballet event!

— rewind by twice

i don't want to know how you're doing.

it's so strange how someone i used to care so much about became a stranger to me so suddenly. the days i spent worrying if you had eaten, if you had gotten enough rest, if you were taking care of yourself in between your training.

now, i'm not curious about you.

as irresistible as it was back then to search your name, and catch up to what you're up to, now i don't care enough to even think about you anymore.

i couldn't help but hate you back then. you took away me who was so beautiful, the one who used to love with her whole heart. the one whose heart couldn’t tell the difference between love and you.

loving you felt so easy that even the thought of losing you back then would feel as if my heart was ripped out of my chest and thrown against the wall like it meant nothing.

so why was our breakup so easy for you?

after everything i did for you, why did it seem so simple to leave me behind like that? the one who went to all of your skating events and even your training? the one who supported your decision to become an idol long before anyone did. did my sleepless nights reassuring you amount to something that meant nothing to you?

did the times id leave anything and anyone behind just for you amount to nothing in the end?

our relationship wasn't as beautiful as the movies, but it was perfect to me. it might've been the ordinary love that every couple experienced but it was different because it was ours.

did i not even deserve the truth that you were joining some survival show to debut, after telling me every little secret about yourself was achieving your dream so precious you couldn't even think to share it with me? 

back then i'd tell myself that it was your agency that caused our separation, but then i remember how empty your eyes looked when you told me it was over. no explanation, only to see your face plastered on a tv screen a week later.

i hoped you were maybe going through what i was going through. barely eating as the taste of my tears on my tongue seemed to fill my appetite, the salty taste becoming so familiar i almost forgot what it tasted like without it. 

but you seemed so happy. laughing with all the others, singing and dancing without a care in the world as if i never existed. like you beginning was in the building and not with me.

funnily enough, i do thank you in some way. your indifference snapped me out of my love haze and turned my sadness into anger.

why did you get to be happy? what about my dreams?

so i found friends that loved me, i even started seeing someone briefly.

got into my dream university, studying what i love.

and i partially thank you for it.

i'll continue to create new memories and experience things i deprived myself of in the name of loving you until you completely fade away. 

keep you in the past and make sure you never touch my present.

prove to the younger me who was so full of love that my world didn't revolve around you, that my life continued and will continue without you. that i know a love that isn’t tainted with your name. that one day if the information that you were struggling found me, i'd be able to sleep comfortably knowing you are not mine to worry about anymore.

park sunghoon. even if i could rewind time and try to make you love me longer, the much more beautiful me now has no interest in you anymore.

you may have had my love once before, but you will never get it again.

you will never take away my beauty ever again.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr ​@haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhees @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads ​@teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @s00buwu @ynsvnte @isawritesss @sleepyxxhead @ramenoil @jaeyunluvr @wifeherupnow @2jisungs