#people wonder why i never check my email

[liminal-disaster]

So real

"unsubscribe" is not enough. i need a button that says "if you email me one more time i will track you down and kill you with a hammer."

[waitimcomingtoo]

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

Masterlist

“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

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[remotewatch]

handprints, footprints all on my glass

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.6k wc

minors dni please and thanks, this is hag business

summary: it’s a short ride from the afterparty to the airport, theoretically

cw: shameless smut, she comes first 💪, dry humping, dom reader sorta, pathetic simp Jack enjoyers make some noise!!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, we’re degrading him a bit whoops, accidental vabbing (?????) girl idk, reader wears the pants not the panties, they’re in one of those Mercedes vans, wear your seatbelts everywhere but here

The jet lag was undoubtedly winning. As luck would have it, the busiest weeks of the year for you and Jack overlapped nearly entirely. It had been nonstop flights, engagements, meetings, press releases, dinner parties, galas, openings of buildings for charities for either dogs or orphans, orphaned dogs maybe, for so long you’d entirely lost track and were ever thankful that most of your speaking assignments were behind you. This last afterparty had fried you both; you didn’t have a single networking conversation left in you. Collapsed opposite you in the jump seat, Jack looked just as spent as you felt.

Of course, he still looked too good. It was fucking sweltering in that venue, and he had loosened his evergreen evening tie and slightly unbuttoned his dress shirt the very second you were shielded by the limo tint. Faint wisps of chest hair peered out from the opening, a fresh tan making his teeth look even whiter. Gun to your head, he’d had his pants taken in too much at the hips, but you’d never say anything that would threaten such a view.

There wasn’t time for that; you were in the home stretch of this hell month and had a packed 16 hour day tomorrow. One last email once over, and you could abandon your work iPad and pass out for the flight back to New York.

“Have you been like that all night?” he asks tentatively.

“Like what?” There’s no immediate response, so you look up from checking tomorrow’s agenda to see Jack shamelessly staring up your cocktail dress at your lack of underwear. The spell breaks when you recross your legs and playfully kick his shin.

“Eyes up here. So what if I was?”

Jack blinks dumbly at you and clears his throat. His eyebrows draw together out of confusion.

“But I saw you get dressed this morning. Where’s that pair I just bought you?”

“They’re wrapped in your pocket square. Did you forget to switch it out for a dry one before lunch?” you ask, holding back a shit-eating grin.

It’s hard to deny the rush you get watching Jack go pale and fish the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his discarded suit jacket, still sticky from cleaning you up a few hours ago. Sure enough, there’s a crumpled La Perla thong cradled in the middle. You interrupt his stuttering protests when you kick your pumps off and slide a foot up his leg.

“Oh please, like you don’t love walking around smelling like me.”

“I do,” his ears are turning red. “but I hugged like twenty people today!”

“Page six has been trying to pin down that musky “cologne” you use for ages. I think you’re safe.” You briefly wonder if you’re leaking onto the leather seats, but that train of thought is halted by Jack’s hand reaching to remove his tie.

“Keep it on.”

He snaps to attention at the direct order.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I like my handle.”

“Do you come with an off switch?”

Break lights flash on in the surrounding lanes. Just your luck; it’s complete gridlock in the few miles between here and the airpark. Maybe there was a little time.

Your foot slides higher, and Jack hisses through his teeth at the contact.

“Why don’t you try and find it?”

There’s barely a millisecond of hesitation before he falls onto you, licking stripes of sweat off your skin from your cleavage to your cheekbones. As always, he’s loud in the way that only a guy who never gets told to shut the fuck up can be: every breath shudders its way out, and he’s basically whimpering into your mouth by the time he gets there, louder when his right hand finds you, in fact, dripping all over the seat. You doubt you’ll ever get used to how thick his fingers are, or the vulgar noises they make when he’s showing off his grip strength knocking on your g spot.

He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up for the afterparty, but his watch was still squarely in the splash zone, and for the briefest of moments you wonder if it’s as waterproof as the cheaper ones he wears surfing. The thought is quickly pushed aside as Jack works you until you’re jolting off the seat trying to get his fingers deeper.

One good yank on his hair gets him off your neck, and he’s so dazed and fucked out already that you almost cum right there.

“Someone looks hungry,” you tease.

“Fuck, please let me-“ He’s cut off by the van suddenly lurching forward and throwing you both off balance, leaving only your vice grip on his tie keeping him in place. There’s a filthy squelch when he pulls his fingers out to suck them clean as he sinks down to his knees. It’s so warm that your dress is sticking to your thighs, and he rapidly loses patience trying to slide it up to your waist.

“This is a rental!” you squeal when the fabric rips, spraying sequins all over the floor. Jack doesn’t even flinch and wraps his lips snugly around your clit.

“Whatever, I’ll buy it,” he mumbles without breaking contact. You find yourself sliding down the sweat slick leather to grind against his face, and he has the nerve to lean back to watch your hips buck desperately.

“I love when you chase it,” he grins. Without missing a beat, you lock your legs around his head and shut him up against you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. I’m not the one humping the floor like a dog.” The mumbly, docile “sorry” that vibrates through you is the hottest thing he’s said all day. And he really is, if his overly enthusiastic slurping indicates anything. Those rapid, precise little strokes of his tongue always froth you up like he’s got a mouthful of soap. By the time you get tired of spelling your name on his nose and shove him to the floor to straddle his face, he’s completely lathered in you.

He lets out a little bleat of surprise when you roughly grab his hair and start manhandling him as if he’s a wet wipe, though he really should expect it by now. Normally, you’d be distractingly aware of the very real possibility the driver can hear the way you’re snarling his name, but time is not on your side right now. The last break lights recede, leaving the compartment only lit by dim blue under-seat bulbs. Your movements grow more frenzied; you’re totally disregarding Jack’s lung capacity and not even aiming for his mouth anymore, just using his whole face like it’s all he’s made for. Right as you begin to worry you have nothing left in the tank due to the lunch commute, a muffled, drawn-out “please” from beneath you sends you tumbling right over the edge. Your orgasm hits you more like a tranquilizer than anything else as the last dregs of your energy drench his face.

As soon as he feels your contractions lessen, he’s tossing you off to sit on his thighs and fumbling with his belt buckle. The van makes a hard right turn onto the final road to the airpark, and Jack lets out a frustrated groan knowing the clock is ticking. Still, he knows not to get in your way when you shove his hands away and slide right back on top of his dick, so hard you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric. You know you’re fucking up his dress pants grinding on him like this, but if nothing else, the linen will dry fast.

“I’m sleeping on the plane whether you finish or not, so make it work.” He doesn’t have enough time to be pissed at you, and he knows it. The sight of him so desperately rutting up against you is nearly enough to get you there all over again. All the tendons in his neck stand out as he presses his lips together trying to focus. His legs splay frantically in an attempt to ground himself, one jet black Oxford wedging under the jump seat and the other pressed flat against the far window. Jack’s head tips back and his eyes screw up in concentration, but you can’t have that, no matter how tasty his Adam’s apple looks. You loop his tie around your hand one more time and yank him back to earth,

“Uh-uh. Look at me when I’m making you cum.” That’ll do it. His expression softens then freezes as his eyes unfocus and his mouth falls open. He sounds downright melodic when he cums, just one long note that gets bounced up and down the scale before trailing off to a whine, and you relish every little twitch of him spilling into his pants, so far from you but certainly close enough.

The van rolls to a stop, and suddenly it’s a fumbling nightmare of you both trying to fish your shoes out from under the seats and smooth each others hair. You snatch Jack’s blazer to cover the rip in your dress, shove the iPad and pocket square-thong mess into your work bag, and throw the door open with what you hope is a believable amount of nobody-get-between-me-and-my-lie-flat-seat urgency.

Wobbly legs insist you grab his hand to step out of the van, and, of course, there’s a fucking pap pressed to the tarmac fence. Jack’s reflexes don’t stand a chance at turning him away in time after what you’ve put him through. When the flash catches his face, you can only look horrified as it perfectly captures the shine you’ve left on him.

Gossipy headlines and vague, tasteful PR statement drafts are already zipping through your head. Add it to the agenda: 16.5 hour day incoming.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

You Need Only Ask [professor!Marcus Pike x librarian!reader]

Read on Ao3

Pairing: History of Art professor Marcus Pike x art library reader/you (cishet female)

Tags/Warnings: Kind of pining idiots but only one is pining, everyone is being professional but it's clear that Marcus is a pining idiot, implied coworkers to lovers.

Summary: Professor Marcus Pike is one of those cliché absent-minded professors - or so you think, but maybe there's another reason why this brilliant academic is acting a dumb fool around you?

Words: 3,534

A/N: This was inspired by an ask sent to me by @just-here-for-the-moment for a fic ask game thingy. Here's the original ask and my reply. I didn't write it exactly like that (main difference is my fic is set in modern times), but I hope y'all still like it!

”Good morning.”

Your customer service smile in place, you look over your shoulder.

”Morning, Professor. Just give me a second and I will be right with you.”

He hums, and you turn back to the bookcase where you were just about to finish re-shelving returns. Once done, you join Marcus Pike, Professor of Art History, at the desk. He’s tapping his fingers, almost impercievably, against the surface of the old solid wood desk, and you stifle a sigh. He didn’t have to wait that long.

”What can I do for you?” you ask politely. Professor Pike is never rude, but he is the typical professor type: absent-minded, a little awkward, his research always the number one priority.

“I looked for this book in the online catalog, but as I suspected, you don’t have it. It’s probably sold out, too.” He gives you a piece of paper before both his hands disappear into his pockets.

“Another inter-library loan, then?” you state, looking at the title. It’s in French, and you know immediately that your library doesn’t have it. Professor Pike is not the most computer-skilled person, so you usually double-check every book he asks for in the database, but this one you know you don’t have.

“Might have to go international for this one,” you tell him. “Canada och Europe. That’s coming out of your department’s budget, you know that.”

“I’ll make room,” he shrugs, looking towards the door, like he can’t wait to get back to the comfort of his own office. “And could you please give me more time with the last one you got for me? I need it for a bit longer.”

“I’ll contact the lending library,” you nod. “I’ll let you know.”

“Great. Thank you.”

The “Sure thing” has barely left your mouth before Pike is out the door, the sound of his steps against the stone floor quickly disappearing down the hall. You shake your head before sitting down to look up the book for him.

As you work, you once again wonder how people like Marcus Pike get jobs at all. Someone as introverted as that would never have a real shot at getting a library job, which requires people skills, patience, and the ability to stand in front of people. But when it comes to academia, it seems like all you need is credentials and a good research profile, and you’re hired. Unlike you, who had to fight tooth and nail for this position. You have Master’s degrees in art and library science, educational and language studies, job experience, and it was still almost impossible to get this job. People who have these jobs never seem to retire but just sit there, year after year, until they eventually sprout roots that fasten them to their chairs.

But you’re here now, since five years, and while Pike’s predecessor never showed his face in the library but sometimes sent you cryptical emails requests that took you half a day to decipher, it’s nice to see that the much younger professor actually frequents the university’s special arts library.

Finally locating Pike’s book in a university library in France, you quickly find the instructions for ILL’s, and send a loan request. After that, you apply for more time for Pike’s previous book, and by afternoon, you have confirmation for both books: one will be mailed out later during the day in Europe, the other has been renewed. You let Pike know through an email, before performing closing duties in the library. Your computer pings just as you’re about to turn it off, and you see that it’s a reply from Pike. Clicking it up, you see the very unlikely response:

>>Amazing, what a service. Just bill the department, I’ve got it covered. Thank you so much 😊 <<

Shaking your head in disbelief at the informal tone, you turn off the computer, clock out, and go home.

Professor Pike is back two days later, now asking for a book that’s available. When you tell him so, he clears his throat, gaze flickering away from you.

“Could you maybe show me where it is?”

“Sure.” You’re curt, because this isn’t the first time. It’s an easy enough book to find, and every item in the library is labeled, and the database even has an interactive feature where you can click on the item’s call number to open up a layout of the stacks, showing the correct shelf in red. It has freed you up a lot now that most patrons can easily find their literature themselves, but some people just want you to do everything for them.

“You know, Professor, you could maybe my start of term library tour useful,” you dare to tease him as you walk before him to the right case. “Most freshmen find it very helpful, and they can usually manage their own information retrieval after.”

“I think maybe a little touch-up course would do me good,” he replies, voice a little tight. “But I like personal service.”

You find the book, pull it out, and hand it to him.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you tell him easily. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He swallows visibly.

“No, thank you.”

He uses the self check-out this time, and leaves quickly without saying goodbye. You shake your head, and catch the eye of Mandy, a Master’s student who works on her thesis in the library almost every day.

“Strange fellow, that one, isn’t he?”

She gives you a peculiar look. “I guess so.”

One thing that you appreciate a lot about your job is the building itself. The campus was built in Collegiate Gothic style in the middle of the 19th century, and compared to the nearby city library with its white surfaces, glass walls, and modern design furniture, the much quieter arts library still seems more alive. The library houses more books than one would think when first seeing it, and it has the charming nooks and crannies that are so common for old houses.

You’re standing in one of those nooks one day; an alcove that houses folios, a cart of tall books parked next to the step stool that you’re standing on. You hear someone enter the library, shout out a “Hello!” as you usually do to let patrons know that you’re in the stacks, and receive a low answer. Mindful not to hurt your wrists, you pick up another folio from the cart, and put it back in its place.

The sound of footsteps stops at the desk, and you pick up the next book.

“Be right with you!”

The patron moves again, slowly walking towards the corner where you are, as if looking for you. You turn your head just as you see Professor Pike come around the corner of a bookcase.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” you nod, picking up the next book. “Almost done.”

“I got your email about the book from France. They sent it rather fast.”

“I was surprised, too,” you admit. There’s one book left, and you really should get down from the stool, move it, and get up again, but you’re lazy. You reach, getting up on your toes, just barely getting the book into place when you feel the stool slip from under you. You gasp, a thousand thoughts rushing through your head during the split second you’re in free fall, and then you land softly, not on the floor, but against a corduroy chest, strong arms holding you.

“Shit, that was close!”

You’re tongue-tied, wide-eyed with shock, heart in your throat and going a mile a minute to make up for the missed beats.

“Are you okay?”

You slowly start to realize that you’re in the arms of Marcus Pike, who caught you when you fell from the stool. And he’s still holding you.

“Yeah, I, yeah, fine, I’m good.” You babble, moving uncomfortably to let him know to let you down, which he does with the utmost care. Your legs are wobbly, and Pike keeps a hand on your waist to make sure you won’t fall.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you now giggle, embarrassed but simultaneously exhilarated by the rush of adrenaline. “That wasn’t stupid at all, was it? I’ve been thinking about having that stool replaced, but I never got around to it, haha. I guess it takes an accident for me to get my thumb out of my a-, I mean, to get it done.”

Your cheeks are heating up, your hands are shaking as you grab the handles of the cart, kicking the accursed stool to the side.

“That was really scary, though,” Pike tells you in a low voice. “You could’ve really injured yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks, I mean, thanks for catching me.” You bite your lower lip and force yourself to look at him. “I’m so embarrassed. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Just glad I was here,” he shrugs, slowly following you as you march to the desk. “Although one could argue that had I not been here, you wouldn’t have tried to restack that heavy book without moving your stool. Sorry if I stressed you.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him lightly. “I sometimes cut corners like that. It’s fine, no harm done.”

You park the cart in its spot behind the desk, and turn to the shelf of reserved books.

“Here’s your inter-library loan. Due date four weeks from now, if you need it for longer, you know the drill.”

“I do,” he replies quietly and accepts the book from you. Holding it in one hand, he carefully opens it with the other, and thoughtfully browses through it. You sit down, flustered and still a little shaky, hoping that he’ll leave so that you can nurse your wounded pride, and maybe have a drink of water.

“It’s about these eighteenth-century art frauds in Europe – “

“I know. I read the title,” you cut him off, more curt than you meant to. Pike closes the book and nervously fingers the paper slip in it.

“You read French?”

“I even speak it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “Of course you do.”

You stare at him, frowning as you try to understand what his deal is, and why he’s suddenly smiling like that. It’s never happened before.

And you’ve never noticed what a charming smile he has. It reveals a dimple in his right cheek that makes him look younger than he is – not that he’s old in any way, he must be around your age, somewhere between forty and fifty. The smile makes you even more shaky, and you can’t stop staring at him. He eventually notices, the smile dies down, and he lowers his eyes.

“Well, thanks,” he mumbles, turning around and walking away briskly, leaving you to stare after him, wondering what the hell happened.

Mandy comes in from her lunch break, waves a hello, then stops when she sees you.

“Is everything okay?”

You nod dismissively. “I’m fine, Mandy. I just… almost fell from a stool. But no harm done.”

She expresses her sympathies before going to the study area. You take a deep breath, and disappear into the back room for a glass of water.

There’s tittling in the stacks, but you don’t pay it any mind: it’s part of library life, especially on a campus filled with hormonal young adults. It’s not until your hear Professor Pike’s name mentioned that you stop writing on your keyboard, and strain to hear better.

“He’s the best lecturer here.”

“And he’s so fucking hot, don’t you think?”

“Cara! He’s a million years old!”

“No, he’s not, he’s like the youngest of the faculty, except for Langley, but she’s a woman.”

“Well, I’m bi, and she’s fine too.”

Shameless giggling ensues, and you have to stifle one as well.

“Wouldn’t mind doing some extra credit for Professor Pike…”

“That’s so tacky, Mindy.”

“Come on, like you haven’t thought about it.”

The girls appear from the stacks, carrying literature over to the self service check-out.

“I just think that his lectures are amazing. He can explain literally anything so that I get it. And he knows so much.”

You stare at your screen, but you’re listening to the students.

“He should lecture more, why doesn’t he have any classes?”

“Dug, because he’s a professor, he has other things to do.”

“I’d give him something to do…”

More giggling.

“I’m serious! I ended upw atching that Youtube lecture twice just because he’s so good!”

The girls borrow their books while talking, then nod good-bye to you as they leave. You nod back, then hit up Youtube, and type in Professor Marcus Pike.

You find a video of him giving a lecture on the history of art, and open it. And your jaw drops.

The man in the video is confident without being cocky, talkative, engaging, contact-seeking. He speaks clearly, even drops a couple of jokes, and he walks around the podium in the auditorium. If it wasn’t for that corduroy jacket with the leather patches at the shoulders, the one that you had enveloped around yourself last week, you wouldn’t have recognized the man.

You close the video and chew your lower lip. You always thought Pike was this nutty professor who didn’t know how to behave around people and preferred books to socializing. But the man in the video is nothing like that. So what is his problem when talking to you?

Navigating to Facebook, you search his name, finding him easily enough. He doesn’t seem to be very active, but his professional profile is listed.

His status is set to “single”, which surprises you, but you think no further of it. You click on to photos, finding only a few, most of them outdated.

“Good afternoon.”

You look up, startled at the familiar voice. Seeing Marcus Pike’s face, you close the browser window quickly.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries, I was just… working.”

He clears his throat. “I’d like to return this.”

You accept the book from him, recognizing it as one of his previous ILL’s.

“Thank you.”

A couple of students come in, saying hello to both of you before disappearing into the stacks, phones in hand, library catalog probably open in their mobile browsers. Marcus looks after them, moving his weight from one foot to the other. You put the book to the side.

“Anything else I can do for you, Professor?”

He almost jumps at the sound of your voice.

“Um, no, thank you, I have to get back to work, grad student coming to see me, um, thanks, I’ll let your know if I need anything.”

He leaves the library, and you’re almost laughing. What the hell was that?

As soon as the students have found and borrowed their books, and you’re alone in the library with Mandy, she gets up and comes over to the desk. You smile your mild customer service smile at her, but she returns it with a wry grin.

“You know that he likes you right?”

You blink, not understanding. “Excuse me?”

“Professor Pike. He likes you.”

You shake your head to show her that you have no idea what she’s talking about, and she laughs.

“Oh, come on! The way he stutters and stumbles when he’s here. And he talks about you all the time, every chance he gets.”

“He what?” Your voice goes up, and you clamp your mouth shut. Mandy nods.

“He always tells us to use the library, and ask you for help. The librarian there is really competent, we’re lucky to have such a professional at our service, that sort of thing.”

“Why do you think that means he likes me?” you ask, cheeks heating up. This is stupid, this girl is half your age, and you’re talking like both of you are in middle school.

“Because he’s super confident in class, in meetings, whenever he talks to anyone, except you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hello!” Mandy rolls her eyes. “Earth to librarian lady! He’s like a flustered cinnamon bun whenever he’s around you – “

“Cinnamon bun?” you interrupt her, incredulously.

“Cutie patootie in old folk speech,” Mandy smirks at you, and you scoff.

“I know what a cinnamon bun is.”

“Whatever. He comes here constantly, doesn’t he? I sit here most days, and no other faculty member visits as much. He’s here practically every day, asking you the simplest questions. He’s into you.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about, Mandy,” you mumble, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“Alright, if you say so,” she smirks. “But I know what I’d do if I were you.”

Later, when she leaves the library, wishing you a good weekend, you open up the browser window again, Pike smiling charmingly at you from his profile picture. You look at it for a long time before logging out, and getting up to reshelf returns.

Friday afternoon in the library makes for slow hours. It’s usually empty – even Mandy has left – and while it gives you the opportunity to prepare for next week, there are Fridays when you’d rather just close up, if you could, and go home early.

A quarter to four, when you’re impatiently tapping your foot for closing time, Marcus Pike shows up again. Mandy’s words echo in your head, making you nervous for the first time, but you manage to suppress that, instead turning on your professional persona.

“Back so soon?” you ask him lightly

“Yeah, I need a book.” He seems to understand himself how stupid that sounded.

“You’ve come to the right place.”

He tells you the title, and you look it up.

“It’s in, call number N5198-5299,” you inform him, then looking up at his hesitant expression. “It’s in the corner over there.”

“Um, could you show me? I’m not good at this.”

“Okay.” You get up and walk around the desk. “But it’s a class that you use a lot, Professor, you should be accustomed to it by now.”

“Marcus.”

“What’s that?”

“Call me Marcus. I don’t much like titles anyway.”

“Uh-huh.”

You take him to the right stacks, walking in between the heavy cases. It’s a tight squeeze, this one, and the book is located further in. You pick it out, and turn around, only to find Marcus standing right behind you.

You’ve been in this situation before, many times even. Worst times were when you worked in the city library, and creeps would crowd you between the stacks, not trying anything but coming closer than necessary.

Your heart misses a beat, but you’re not uncomfortable. Instead, you smell something familiar and comforting, something besides old paper, leather covers, and ink. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Marcus’s cologne, the corduroy, his shampoo: earthy but fresh, a little like the forest after rain, but with an undertone of old leather armchair.

You wet your lips, and hold up the book he asked for.

“Your book.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t take it, so you lower your hand. He clears his throat, but this time, he doesn’t look away, but straight into your eyes.

“I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” you breathe.

“There’s this classic movie festival this weekend, and I was wondering…”

“If I wanted to go with you?” you finish his sentence for him, as he takes too long for you to wait. He blinks, then smiles that sweet smile again.

“Exactly. Yes. Would you?”

“I’d like that.”

“Really?” The smile seems to broaden even more.

“Sure. Tomorrow?”

“Perfect. I can pick you up, if you want to. At six?”

“Perfect,” you echo, now smiling widely yourself. He exhales, like he’s been holding his breath this entirely time.

“Perfect.”

The desk phone rings, startling both of you. The book falls from your hand, and you look down at it, then up at Marcus.

“I need to get that.”

“Of course,” he nods. You make a little movement with your head.

“I need to get past you, Marcus?”

“Oh, yes, of course, sorry.”

He backs out from between the cases, letting you out as well. His cologne seems to rub off on your arm when you brush past him, hurrying to the desk. You answer the phone and try to focus on the person calling, take a couple of notes, and end the call just as Marcus comes walking to the desk, book in hand. You check it out for him, give him your number, and he smiles again as he thanks you. You follow him to the door so that you can close up after him.

“I’ll call,” he promises as he steps out. You nod, hand on the door handle.

“Looking forward to it.”

He raises the book as a farewell, then starts walking down the corridor. You’re about to close the door when you suddenly step out, calling his name.

“Marcus!”

He turns around immediately, and now that he’s standing with his back straight, instead of hunched over, you notice how tall and broad-shouldered he is.

“Yes?”

“For the record… you’re into me, right?”

He chuckles, his ears turning pink. “Yeah, I’m into you.”

“Just checking,” you grin. “See you tomorrow.”

[merakiui]

long-distance love.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, phone sex, obsession, power imbalance, kidnapping, implied (cyber)stalking, non-con touching, characters written as 18+ note - sea witch, the magicord mod you've had intimate online relations with, is closer than you thought.

Sea Witch is a busy man.

His weekly schedules are almost always packed to bursting, each event meticulously arranged into open slots as if aiming to form a perfect puzzle. Times never conflict; he’s particular about how he spends his hours, and very rarely does he allow himself a break. It has always been work, work, work. He’s one of the city’s most affluent, eligible bachelors and yet he’s married to his business. Those who lust after him think it’s a wasteful shame. Azul finds it to be a relief far greater than any he’s ever known. He will never compromise the enterprise he’s built from the ground up just because of some flimsy, fickle feelings.

Originally, he had no interest in Magicord, a messaging platform that grants people from all over the world the chance to congregate on specific servers for mutual interests like anime and gaming. He only downloaded it because Idia Shroud, a fellow friend and business partner, lived and breathed the app, his online presence so profound it was almost like a second home. He’d swipe away notifications from his actual messaging app, too busy in a voice call with his group of dungeon raiders to bother answering important calls.

So he resolved to get on Idia’s level in hopes of improving communication. Although Idia’s level, as Azul often noted, was not exactly a place he wanted to be. While Magicord could be used for business purposes, that wasn’t what drew people in. Azul of all people knew very well which target audiences were being reached with apps like Magicord, and he was not one of them.

“To think I’d stoop as low as this,” Azul had once groused over a phone call with Idia, who was giving him quite a lengthy, not-very-needed-but-also-very-much-needed rundown on Magicord’s inner workings. “I hardly have time to play games, let alone socialize on this…app.”

“Aren’t you always going on about how adaptable you are?” Idia sniped back, not in the mood for normie criticism. The sound of clacking keys could be heard on his end. “And you’re the one who asked. Kinda defeats the purpose of learning if you’re just gonna complain.”

Azul rolled his eyes. “I fail to see the logic in downloading another app just to ensure my messages reach you. Honestly, you ought to start checking your email. Or, at the very least, go through your missed call and text logs.”

Alas, Idia had been stubbornly adamant about his preferences and so, much to his displeasure, Azul was forced to undergo something of a Magicord Training Camp until he emerged a pro. And being a pro meant knowing how to navigate his own profile and toggle between that and Idia’s, which was really the only tip he needed because that was all he’d use the app for.

But Azul has always had an innate itch for wanting to know something from top to bottom, inside-out, and the idea of not knowing every little detail about Magicord drove him insane. If there was an opportunity he could capitalize on, why should he risk squandering it with his elementary-level knowledge? So he spent his rare slivers of free time playing around in there, creating a server and wondering who could ever become so attached to an app when the world beyond the screen was filled with just as many, if not more, social encounters.

His introverted side understood the appeal. In fact, he loved the idea of hiding behind a manufactured persona online. He didn’t have to be Azul Ashengrotto on Magicord. Rather, he could rid himself of his dislikable traits and become an entity—an idea or a concept—rather than a flawed man who others might scrutinize ruthlessly.

So he became Sea Witch, and within just a week he’d constructed quite the comfortable server. The invite link was spread throughout the various branches of Mostro. It would provide employees with an online sanctuary, where they could easily connect should doing so in person prove complicated (as had been the case regarding Idia, which was the sole reason he’d even poured so much time into this effort). Most of all, it gave Azul the chance to keep watch from afar, silently sitting in wait and curating a collection of mostly unimportant intel. Mere gossip, if anything.

But gossip is just as good as the next scandal. He likes to be prepared, a razored edge on all sides.

As far as the company was concerned, no one knew who this Sea Witch character was and no one knew who spread the link. And as far as individual employees knew, this was likely just some overworked intern’s labor of love—a well-crafted server intended to function as a digital gathering place for those exhausted after a long day. And that was mostly true, but all of the potential blackmail he could gather, the information he could glean, and even the people he could keep a closer eye on in an online setting—all of that paled in comparison to the real prize he’d attained. This was of great importance. It was something that altered the course of his life, opened his eyes to the brilliant beauty of a first love.

It was there in that undersea-themed haven where he met you, the one who would add flavorful spice to the once bland, boring meal that was his life. And just after a few weeks of simple, cordial conversation, he realized a single taste of your kind companionship wouldn’t be enough to sate him.

Greedy to a fault, Azul wanted you in your entirety.

Which brings him to the present, where he’s currently leaning back into the expensive leather of his driver’s seat. He’s parked on a silent strip of road, in a more residential part of the city. It’s not very busy here, and his windows are tinted to avoid immediate recognition. Rush hour won’t hit until later, and he’s not due for any conferences. He has time. Plenty of it to spare on this little excursion.

“I wanna meet you, Sea Witch,” you admit, nearly whining through the phone. “Where’re you from? Maybe we’re in the same area.”

Azul smiles at your impatience. You just can’t get enough of him, can you?

Every weekend, you hop into a VC with him and chat for hours on end. At first he simply provided a listening ear when you wished to rant through text or call. You’d voice all sorts of complaints. Azul filed them away in the event that they might be useful in the future, initially intending to use such information to ruin you should you prove to be someone worth ruining. But the more he spent listening and scrawling notes on blank paper, the more he realized you were just overworked and struggling financially.

Upon making these connections and learning all sorts of facts from you regarding your life beyond Magicord, he felt compelled to help. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course, ever the benevolent saint. And you weren’t complaining when he offered to pay you for your time. In exchange for two hours of conversation, he’d provide you with the funds you needed to afford your necessities.

Somehow, throughout many months of give and take—with his giving being on the jaw-droppingly exorbitant side, always one to top his own ludicrous generosity—your hours-long conversations would sink beneath the surface of mere companionship. It was one-sided intimacy. Azul was careful with what he shared, building a mostly secretive profile for himself. He didn’t want to risk tarnishing your fondness for Sea Witch by sharing details that felt more like Azul and less like the effortlessly funny, charming, and eloquent Magicord mod you’d originally made contact with.

You didn’t seem to worry about compromising your own privacy, easily divulging a variety of fun tidbits about your life. You’d share the tiniest of details and he’d eat it up every time, hungering for more than just crumbs. That time you sent him a photo of the octopus macarons you’d bought from a local bakery because you were thinking of him? He remembers it well, and he’s constantly reminded of it when you text him about things you did over the weekend or hobbies you basked in. Sending photos of your houseplants, asking him for his opinion on clothes you were hoping to buy (which he was always more than willing to sponsor; all you needed to do was send the link and he’d purchase it), and even trusting him enough to fall asleep in the VC with him (arguably one of his favorite things about your unique relationship).

And he called it unique not because it was a bad sort of strange. Rather, it was unique in the refreshing sense. He’d never had an online friend before, let alone someone who would so willingly and readily indulge him. Granted, this willingness stemmed from the deal he’d cut with you and so you were really only doing these things for your own gain. But then so was he. It was a relationship built upon necessity. You needed money to survive, and he needed you.

So it was okay to fall into sleazy fantasies. It was all an act anyway, and it wasn’t like you judged him or his preferences. At least, not outright. If you did, it was silent. You were considerate and sweet; and you really did consider him a friend. Or so he hoped. If your casual conversations were any proof, it was obvious there was some sort of enjoyment and trust there.

Friendship or something more, he would have you. Whether that meant in the safety of his pocket, enclosed within his mobile phone forever, or in his penthouse, tucked away in his bedroom—he’d have you.

“I’m from a city, yes,” he answers, purposely cryptic.

“Obviously. Come onnn, Witchy. Don’t you wanna meet me, too?”

“I do, and one day we’ll meet. I promise.”

He listens to your irritated groan and his cock twitches in his slacks. Good god, your voice is a blessing—more heavenly than a cherubic choir.

“One day isn’t today, though.”

“Perhaps not.” He speaks to distract you from the rustling fabric of his pressed suit as his hand strays further. He spies his reflection in the rearview mirror, notes the flash in his irises. If only you were here, sitting beside him in the passenger seat. If only he could slide his own seat as far back as it would go, lie still and serene, and let you climb into his lap to spear yourself on his erection. Genuine leather be damned. He wanted your scent, your essence, your everything engraved into the very interior. “Humor me—if we were to meet right now, what would you like to do?”

“Mm, I’d want to get a good look at the man I’ve been talking to for nine months now.”

“Oh, you’ve kept track?”

“You haven’t?” Your laughter is fluffy and light—authentic amusement. “And I’d want to memorize your face so that I’ll never forget it.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because I’m so curious! You know what I look like—”

“Not entirely,” he interjects, sly and silver-tongued. “You’re a portrait half-finished in my mind. Not yet sketched to completion.”

And it’s true. From your shoulders down, you are a faceless beauty. He’s seen you nearly naked and fully clothed, in frills and lace, in latex and ribbons, in satin and chiffon. And yet, for all of the skin you’ve shown, he can’t place a face (or a real name, for that matter) to your body.

“Okay, poet,” you tease, and he’s already palming himself through the fine fabric of his trousers. “But I’ve still never seen an inch of you. You’ve never even sent a dick pic.”

“You’ve never asked.”

“Can I have one now?”

“Nice try.”

“Asshole!” you gripe, clicking your tongue in disappointment. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“I’m aware,” he hums, squeezing himself, his breath coming out faint and haggard.

Yeah, he’s the worst. But then you’re the best at eliciting these sorts of reactions from him. The effect you have on him is utterly enthralling. Your ability to reduce him to a pliable puddle in just a few words—a mere few lighthearted, hollow insults—is truly impressive. He’d feel ashamed of himself if it wasn’t so good.

“You’re probably not even that big.”

“Would you like an exact measurement?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to measure it in person? See how many inches I could fit inside. I’ve been practicing with that dildo you sent me—the one shaped like a tentacle,” you purr, frustratingly coy. He wants your sinful lips wrapped around his dick right now—wants to fuck your throat sore and raw. Wants nothing more than to spill heavy and hot on your tongue so you’ll taste him for days. “If we met up, we could make that happen. Sooo, where’s my Sea Witch from? What part of the world?”

“Patience, angelfish.”

Even though he says so, he’s practically vibrating with excitement as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Soon. So soon. Very, very soon.

And then…

He imagines you rolling your eyes with your next words. “Fine, fine. I’ll be patient. But that’s not gonna stop me from fantasizing.”

“Well, what do you think I look like?”

“Now isn’t that a fun question?” You mull it over. He can tell because you mutter a variety of ums and hmms in that soft, sweet voice of yours. “I think you’re tall and you have a handsome face that matches your equally handsome voice.”

“Yeah?” he encourages, undoing the belt, button, and zip on his pants one-handed. “What else?”

Your giggles filter into his ears, seeming closer than they actually are due to the wireless earbuds he’s wearing. “From what I’ve gathered, you seem to have expensive tastes.”

Sitting in his lavish, one-of-a-kind, custom-made sports car, Azul thinks you would be correct.

“I wonder what gave it away…” he drawls, his voice creeping an octave lower.

He places his phone in the cup holder, reaching to open the glove compartment and retrieving a tiny bottle of lube. Squirting a scant amount on his palm, he fishes himself, throbbing and pathetically hard, out of his boxers. His slick hand is a warm, welcome embrace around his silky-smooth shaft. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Mhm, I wonder. It’s not the fact that you told me I should just buy a designer bag for work when I asked for recommendations. And it’s certainly not your ability to get me lots of nice gifts as if it’s nothing. So maybe it’s just your excessive generosity that makes you seem so rich?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Speaking of that, what do you do for a living?”

“Guess.”

“Okay, Mr. Mysterious… Um… Hm. I think you’re a pilot.”

The whiplash that assumption brings is so seismically jarring he thinks he might go flaccid. Gripping himself with renewed vigor, he slides his fist along his length, slow and perfunctory, picturing you under his desk, your mouth open wide to receive him…

“A pilot… Mm, no, not quite.”

“Aw. My second guess was gonna be a contract killer. They make lots of money.”

“You have quite the wild imagination, angelfish. Even if I was one, do you think I’d admit that to you?”

“Maybe,” you tease. He pictures your smirk as it twists your perfect, pretty lips into something wicked. “For the right price, yeah?”

“Oh? Do elaborate.”

Please. Please keep going. Don’t stop talking. I need to hear you, closer, louder, clearer… More.

“What sort of price would I have to pay to get Sea Witch to spill his secrets?” you muse, your voice a tantalizing curl of syllables, but he suspects you already know the answer to your hypothetical. “I can’t offer you money, so you’d have to settle for something a little more…physical.”

He shivers, nodding his agreement even though you can’t see it. “Physical’s good,” he mumbles, foregoing eloquence in favor of filth. “Much better than—mm—than money…”

“Yeah? All right. Let’s see… You’re well-off and you might or might not be a contract killer. Do you wear suits?”

“I do.”

“Ooh, so you’re one of those contract killers.”

Azul can’t help it; he laughs, the sound tumbling out in a breathy gasp. “I prefer looking nice at all times.”

Languidly, his hand continues its idle pumping. He cracks his eyes open to peer at the pre-cum beading at the tip.

“Even if you’re just going to get messy?”

“Explicate the situation that’s leading me to soil my clothes. Details, angelfish.”

“Well, if you’re a killer who wears suits, you wouldn’t like even the smallest stain. It ruins your image, but if it was me…” You pause, probably for effect, and it works. His back arches with anticipation, fingers closing tighter. “You’d make an exception.”

“I would,” he admits far too quickly. “Always.”

“So you really would out yourself as a killer if I spread my legs for you?”

“No, but I’d let you dirty my suits.”

“Good. They’ll look better on the floor anyway.”

His breath hitches. Fuck, your every word is a siren’s song, leading him deeper into mist-clouded waters. He’d keep you pinned on his cock all day if he could. Why should you continue to work your mundane job when you could spend your precious hours with him instead? He’ll be your job. Seven days a week, during each of the breaks he’ll pencil into his schedules, you can visit him and he can empty all of his stress into you. And you’ll take it because you’re such an obedient sweetheart for him, always so ready to please your master.

He prays you can’t hear the salacious squelch of skin on skin as he works himself towards the edge, but a nastier part of him wants you to listen in so you’ll be reminded that this is your fault. No one else can possibly make him this messy. No one else is capable of rendering him a clumsy, lovestruck fool. You’re probably well aware of these facts, having brought him to this same edge numerous times in the past. Sometimes you would reach that tipping point alongside him, your gasps and groans joining his in an obscene duet.

Neither of you decided upon today’s development, but he thinks—knows—you’re intentionally stringing him along. You want this as much as he does.

“So was I right? You’re totally a contract killer?”

“I’m a businessman, angelfish,” he corrects, a silly, drunken smile softening his jaw. You make him feel so stupid, so warm and fond.

“So basically the same thing. Just as ruthless, no?”

“Please, you wound me. I’m always kind.”

“Ah, so there are others who get this treatment? And I thought I was the only one…”

“You are. No one could ever compare to you.”

He intends to tack my love onto the sentence’s end, but he stops himself. You’re not his love. Not really. You’re his angelfish, sure, but that’s different. That’s just a pet name befitting the aquatic theme he masquerades behind. And you’re not really Azul’s. You’re Sea Witch’s.

It’s Sea Witch you know and love. Beyond that, Azul is just Azul. And he’s nothing like the ideal he’s cultivated on Magicord.

He sighs and forces himself out of the turbulent trenches of his withering self-esteem. Now is not the time to contemplate which version of himself you’d be more preferential to.

You’ll have no choice but to love the real him. Soon.

“Really? I feel so special.” Impressed, you whistle and add, “I’ve gotta make you feel special, too.”

“You already have—”

“Not inside the VC. Come on, Sea Witch, don’t you wanna meet me?”

“I do. I really do,” he babbles dumbly, grinding his thumb into his slit and smearing pre-cum. He grits his teeth and tamps down a colorful word. How he yearns for this to be your hand wrapped around his length, tugging him to that far-off finish line. “I want nothing more than to—t-than to see you, all of you, in person…”

“So what’s stopping you? I could do a lot more in person than I can over the phone.” He has a smart reply for that, but it sticks in his throat. Pitifully, like the rightful debauched mess he is, he groans, low and guttural. “Let me turn the question on you, Sea Witch. If we were to meet today, what would you like to do to me?”

So many things, he thinks, a litany of smutty imagery flickering through his head.

But Sea Witch is classy (most days) and today is one of those instances. Or at least he’s going to make an attempt, however weak it may be.

“Take you to dinner,” he mumbles, executing jerky, quick motions in a daze, his cock weeping for release. He throws his head back, peers up at the interior roof of his car, and inhales sharply. “Take you all over the city if it pleases… I’d spoil you with so much finery—dress you up and then tear every article off…”

“And then?”

“And—god, fuck—wanna be inside you, angelfish… So badly—need you so badly. I wanna feel you and kiss you and hold you.”

He’s unraveling, strings pulled taut and fraying to extremity. Azul bucks into his hand and imagines it’s you, tight and warm, a sweet, snug embrace. He opens and closes his mouth, intending to beg you for more, but all that slips out are the tiniest huffs and grunts. He’s so wrapped up in his own ardor that he almost misses your quiet pants, every breath squeezed out of you as if you’re struggling to withhold your gratuitous moans. And it’s deplorable, really, the way his ears prick at these muffled sounds, the way his cock stands rigidly at attention, the way he’s falling through fragments of filthy fantasies, each one so close and yet impossibly far.

“I want you, too,” you mewl, tone wavering between shameless thrill and some sort of seventh heaven.

He wonders what you’re using to pleasure yourself. Are your fingers, slick and curled, rubbing up against those perfect, pretty spots that have you seeing stars? Or are you using the toys he purchased for your enjoyment? Maybe you’re lowering yourself onto the dildo right now, gummy walls clenching around girthy silicone. And maybe you’re tugging at your nipples, massaging them between the pads of your fingers, or maybe you’ve swapped skin-to-skin for a bullet vibrator instead.

Maybe—just maybe—it’s the mere thought of him that sets your flesh aflame with an intoxicating desire.

“And I want you—” you gasp, and his mind travels to all of the risqué photos you’ve sent, each one saved in a password-protected album on his phone— “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. I want you to show me that no one else can compare to you. I want you to—mmh, hah—to hold me down in bed and fuck me until my legs are sore and I can’t walk.”

I will, he thinks, lashes fluttering on his cheekbones. He strokes himself quickly, chest heaving, tongue near-lolling out of his mouth as he pants like a hound in heat. I’ll do all of that and so much more. I’ll fuck every coherent thought out of your pretty head, keep you just smart enough to rely on me, turn you into the prettiest sea flower who’ll only blossom for me.

“I promise, angelfish. I promise I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” he vows, his nerves alight with lustful delight, “and you’ll never know misfortune again.”

“I—oh! I’m close, so close! Please, Sea Witch! Please don’t stop. Please fill me up and make me yours!”

The sheer vulgarity twined through amatory vehemence, coupled with his own hurried pace, has him tumbling down the slope, arousal peaking and spilling over in thick, creamy spurts. He has half a mind to catch his spend before it can ruin the pristine interior of his car, and he blinks down at the semen sullying his palm. Idly, he rubs his fingers together to test the viscosity, wondering how his fluids would look on your face, your stomach, your ass—or even pooling out of your hole in plentiful amounts.

That fantasy is enough to send blood rushing right back to his softening cock, and he wills those thoughts away with logic—complex calculations and the financial forecast for Mostro. There will be plenty of time to indulge in sexual cravings later. He reminds himself of this while he tamps down his zeal, his heart relaxing in his ribs as he sits with the slowly ebbing aftershocks of orgasm.

You seem to be doing much the same, for you’ve gone perfectly quiet.

“Everything all right, angelfish?” he whispers after a few minutes, his breath now evened out.

“Mm, yeah. All good over here. Messy, but good.”

“I’m comforted knowing we’re in the same boat.” He chuckles while fumbling to dig a cotton handkerchief from the depths of his suit jacket. He cleans the cum and residual lube from off his hands and dick before neatly tucking himself away. Soon, there will be no need for this charade. Soon, he can adore all of you from beyond the screen. “Angelfish, there’s something I’d like to tell you.”

“What’s up?” you murmur, your own voice settling into its usual cheery cadence. He suspects you’re just putting on an act to sound happier. That will change when you’re reunited in person because it will be real. Because there will be no point in pretending through the phone.

“Well…” Azul smiles, folds and unfolds the sodden handkerchief, and then straightens his posture. He should be on his way now. “Ah, it’s nothing. Never mind it. I’ll tell you later.”

“Whaaat? But you’ve made me so curious now. Don’t just leave me in suspense!”

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to remain in that suspense indefinitely.”

“Ugh. You’re so annoying sometimes.”

He knows you don’t mean that.

“I’ll tell you soon, angelfish. Exercise a little patience. There’s no rush.”

“Easy for you to say. You know what it is.”

“That I do, yes.” He hums, considering his next words. “Would it help if I left you with a word of advice?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything.”

“Um. Okay, sure. Hit me. What’s your advice?”

Azul buckles himself in, starting his car via push button. It rumbles to life, smooth and steady. “Don’t fight so much, my dear.”

“Don’t what? Sea Witch, what are you talking—”

Your words are interrupted with a startled yelp. Azul listens to the struggle as if it’s a podcast enjoyed at sunrise. Things are toppled in the chaos; something shatters. He catches the beginnings of a blood-curdling shriek before it’s swiftly silenced. There’s more muffled scuffling before, eventually, absolute peace.

It’s broken by Floyd’s petulant whine. “Maaan, Shrimpy was so difficult. Thought you said they were easy, Azul.”

“Understandably so,” comes Jade’s astute reply. “We did catch them when they were most vulnerable.”

Floyd hums his agreement. “Y’know, Jade, Shrimpy’s kinda cute…”

“They are, aren’t they, Floyd?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, perish it right now,” Azul hisses, features twisting into something dark. “Keep your slimy mitts off of my angelfish.”

There’s an unsettling silence. Azul rolls his eyes. They’re fishing for a reaction he refuses to give.

“Clean up whatever mess you’ve made.” He takes his car out of park and eases into drive. “And don’t let anyone see you. It’ll be a hell of a pain if neighbors make unnecessary reports.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard ya loud and clear.”

“Very well. Farewell for now.”

The call is cut. Azul grips the steering wheel, smug.

Soon waits for him on the horizon. He will not be a minute late.

You wake on a bed, in a spacious bedroom with exquisite floor-to-ceiling windows, many stories up in the clouds. A brightly lit cityscape sprawls beyond the confines of this room, illuminated with the deceptive shine of promise and success. At first it looks foreign. But then you recognize notable buildings, each standing tall and proud amidst the rest, and it occurs to you that you’re in a stranger’s home, in the heart of the big city.

The room itself is plainly colored; it reminds you of a hotel or a room you might find in a real estate catalogue. Perplexed, you sit up and take pause as your unfamiliar surroundings prove to be more frightful than your own confusion.

Pasted to the walls are various printed screenshots from Magicord, each one detailing a conversation of sorts. You stare at the wall behind you, the one in which the bed is currently pushed against, and peer closer at the contents of these messages.

They’re all from you.

Endearing terms you’ve called him in passing. Gentle insults. Lewd flirts. Vents and rants. Photos you’ve sent of very insignificant things—houseplants, meals, clothes. And then there are the photos of your body in skimpy lingerie and cosplay, all taped to the wall like this is some abstract museum of the digital you. The you who, despite being honest most of the time, took solace in the world of Magicord. The you who’d grown close with the mod from that whimsical ocean-themed server. The you who is now trapped, your ankle enclosed in a cuff. There’s a lead that only allows you to meander into the attached bathroom if you so please, and you suspect it’ll pull taut if you try to leave the room.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, your stomach twisting with disgust.

You look down at your clothes—you’re in someone’s collared shirt, intentionally designed to be oversized so that it drapes like a nightgown—and horror prickles your skin.

And then he arrives.

He’s dressed casually in black slacks and a simple white dress shirt, primly tucked in with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. You stare for a long moment, studying his features as his familiarity dawns. Your mouth falls open in a muted scream.

He smiles sweetly, stepping further into the amber glow from the bedside lamps. “It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m Sea Witch.”

But that’s not what’s shocking about this. The real shock—the thing that has your brain stumbling in an effort to put the pieces together before the picture can crumble—is far more jarring than the kidnapping and the captivity. You find your voice then, and before you can stop yourself the words are falling out in a hurry.

“CEO Ashengrotto?!”

Sea Witch—CEO Ashengrotto—stiffens, his brows furrowing immediately. He gives you a sharp, dangerous look. A look that seems to radiate one unspoken question: Where did you hear that name?

“You… You’re A-Azul Ashengrotto,” you continue, swallowing thick trepidation. “CEO of Mostro. You opened a new restaurant last year—Crave, right? And the menu features celebrity favorites—celebrities like Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche.”

He laughs his disbelief, carding a hand through soft, silvery locks. “How…do you know this?”

“I work there. You visited once with your secretary for quality checks. We even crossed paths.”

Azul gawks, realizes he’s gawking, and clears his throat. “I… I see. Well.” He inhales, holds his breath for three seconds, and exhales. “This makes things rather…awkward.”

“When you said businessman, I didn’t think… I mean, how was I supposed to know? Your voice sounds so different over call than it does in interviews.”

“Of course it does! I never use the same inflection for those things.”

This cannot be real, you think, watching him flounder anxiously. Azul Ashengrotto is Sea Witch. This whole time… Nine entire months… I was talking to the CEO—to the city’s most popular bachelor—and I didn’t even know it. They write articles about this guy! He’s all over the TV! How did I never realize?

And then a very mortifying thought worms its way in: Oh my God. We both know each other’s preferences. He saw so much of me—more than I’d ever want him to see—and I heard too many private things during our calls…

“Let’s just…” You rub circles into your temples to quell the incoming migraine. “Let’s never talk about this again. You can buy my silence and I’ll move on with my life. I’ll even forget all of…” You glance at the Magicord conversations stuck to the wall and then the chain binding your ankle. “All of this…stuff. We’ll agree to call it a misunderstanding and life will be good, yeah?”

The bargain doesn’t seem to reach him. He continues to stare at you, his eyes glazed with an emotion you can’t place. Whatever it is, it’s stormy and dark. You don’t like it, and you shrink away when he steps closer.

“All this time you were right under my nose…”

Azul climbs onto the bed with you, the mattress depressing under the additional weight. Framed by the hypnotic radiance of the skyscrapers climbing heavenward, he’s certainly earned his place in every celebrity gossip magazine you’ve ever read. Articles debating whether he’s secretly committed to a relationship. Articles theorizing what his life plans may have in store for him. Articles discussing whether he’ll ever get married, if he’ll remain single for the rest of his life, if he’ll ever open his heart to the many people who hope to earn his romantic affections.

No one knows it—how could they when he’s so tight-lipped with the paparazzi?—but you are the secret variable the articles have yet to discover. You are the covert partner, the one who has won his heart, the one who now sits shackled on his bed.

What sort of tabloid journalist could ever spin this story?

You scoot further up the bed, your back pressing against the ornately extravagant headboard. Your knees are pulled into your chest, a futile attempt at protection.

“All this time you were so close to me…” He marvels at this, his baby blue hues locked permanently on you. “And neither of us knew. I could’ve had you much sooner had I just realized…”

You blink at him, your heart sinking with every passing second. “Mr. Ashengrotto, what do you mean by that?”

A pout tugs at perfect, pretty lips. “Why so formal, angelfish? We’re much closer than that, surely.” His hands settle upon your knees, gently pulling them apart. Your blood curdles with fear. “There’s no need to be so tense. It’s only me.”

“No… Please wait. Hold on!”

“Hm? If I’m not mistaken, this is what you want. You were rather vocal about your desires. You’ve always been. So why are you looking at me like that? I’m not scary, am I?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Please let me go…”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, his tone patient despite the subject. “You know I can’t do that.”

“But you… You kidnapped me! Y-You had those guys hiding in my home and they…” You shake your head, unable to describe the sheer terror that had overwhelmed you when those creepy twins descended. Hopeless, you open your eyes to give him your most despairing look. Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to fall at the slightest prodding.

“Oh, my dear, did they scare you? They’re brutes who know nothing of how to treat a person with adequate care. You needn’t worry anymore. I’m here for you.” He cups your face in a fond hold, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your cheek. “Don’t cry, angelfish. You’re in good hands—my hands. And have they not been the most generous?”

“You’re crazy. Obsessed! How can you think any of this is okay? Look around at the walls! You’ve pasted our conversations everywhere—they’re practically the wallpaper!”

“What of it?” His hand slides down to grip your chin, forcing you to meet him at eye level. “I love you. I have for months now. And if those are the ways you choose to classify my care, so be it.”

Tear trails trace down your face. He leans in to kiss the rivers away, but they morph into the saltiest of seas.

“You may not approve of my affections right this very moment. You may hate me, think I’m monstrous, a culmination of all things foul, but you will love me. In due time, my dear. And when you do, the world will open and the chain will come off and you will know freedom under my roof.”

He has the gall to worship you with a loving smile. It poisons you with newly brewing abhorrence.

“So cry your heart out. Scream and kick up a fit. Do what you must. And when the floods subside, we can learn to love one another. Both at our best and our worst, within and beyond Magicord.”

[hawkeyedflame]

y'all get this. you're gonna love this.

i went to renew my car registration online last week and was slapped with a nice juicy "NON-RENEWAL" banner when i entered my information. why, you ask? i asked the same thing!

turns out that i had an unpaid toll fee (?!) from june that i was completely unaware of. because of the way toll plazas are just stupid fucking photo booths now, i don't even remember going through this toll. but apparently i did, because they have a picture of my car going through it. whatever. it's like $1.

here's the rub, though. i never received an invoice in the mail for this, and yes my address is up-to-date. so the next month the fee went up. then it went up. then it went up. then it went to collections, where it incurred a $25 fine and barred me from renewing my registration. the total fee they wanted me to pay to clear my non-renewal was nearly $30. for a toll i never even got an invoice to pay. and for those wondering, in order to view and pay your toll online, you must have either the invoice number from the state DOT, or you must have the ticket number from the RMV after you get a non-renewal. which means that even if i had remembered i went through the toll and had attempted to pay it, i would not have been able to because i never got an invoice.

so i did what any pissed off state-hating woman does. i wrote a dispute letter to the DOT saying exactly what i said above and declaring it unjustifiable and wrong.

i did not receive any automated confirmation email that my dispute claim was successfully submitted, nor did i receive any correspondence back about it. but, magically, when i went to the DOT website to check the status of it this afternoon, as i logged in to the RMV website to grab the ticket number, it was gone. and my non-renewal was cleared.

funny, that.

anyway kids the moral of the story is to always fight back against injustice from the state. they're just bullies hoping to grift people who are too timid or too busy to deal with their bullshit. never let it slide. always fight back.

[olderthannetfic]

I'm feeling weird about an interaction I had the other day, and I'm wondering if I could get... I dunno, advice, I guess? From the usual commenters here.

So, context is that three-ish years ago, I got hate-brigaded in the fandom where I did most of my writing, in a way that came out of nowhere, and also in such a way that I felt like I deserved it. I ended up deleting everything I'd made for that fandom off the internet just to make it stop, including nearly six years of an art blog. I got a reality check later from friends whose credibility I trusted a lot more than random strangers on the internet, and eventually reposted most of the fic (backdated to the original dates of posting), and do actually still post fic in that fandom (also backdated to avoid notice). I also post a couple of fics on that account that are not backdated where I write with OCs from the original fandom fic in other fandoms.

The other day, someone who had been working their way through kudosing my stuff in the old fandom posted a complementary comment about it on the most recently updated of the two fanfics that isn't in that fandom, said they liked my OCs in the original fandom fic, and asked if I'd ever be interested in writing about that original fandom again. I explained that I was still writing fic in that fandom, it was just all backdated because most people really did not seem to like what I was writing.

And they responded saying that was too bad, and asking my opinion about a character they love, noting that it's pretty obvious from my fic that I don't like them and wondering why. And, like, this was probably just someone who was looking for fandom connection... but the character they were asking about is one of the most popular characters in the entire fandom. Most of the people still actively writing fic in this fandom are writing about this character, so if they wanted people to engage with about this character, they had basically everyone but me to engage with. And the person who set off the initial hate brigade against me that lead to me deleting basically my entire internet presence for months had this character as their URL.

So in my brain, I immediately go, "bait, this is bait," and delete this person's comments, delete my one response to them, and lock down comments on all the works on that account. And I know, I know that's paranoid overreaction. Based on their kudos pattern, this person was clearly working their way slowly through all the things on that account, which is not something someone who was only there to bait me would do. The only slightly off thing they did was comment on an unrelated most-recently-updated work instead of one of the works for the actual fandom. Probably they didn't realize that most people have comment emails turned on and didn't know I'd see a comment if they posted it on one of the older works, and they definitely didn't know what asking that particular question would do to me.

But I just... don't know how to exist in a fandom space any more without intense paranoia. I want to keep writing these things that bring me joy, and I do, but I miss being able to have my comments open without fear. I miss being able to post to a blog that wasn't locked down from Tumblr search. I wish I could interact with ANY fandom these days—not just that original one, but any fandom at all—and not feel like someone is going to turn on me out of nowhere. I can't overstate how out-of-nowhere that hate brigade was: my average fic got maybe 2 kudos. My art blog had fewer than 100 followers, and on average I got like 5 notes. I still to this day don't know why the person who set it off had such a hate-on for me, because it was clear from some of the anons I was getting that they'd built up a hell of a litany of ills to pile on my head, while all being vague enough that I never quite got a clear picture of what they were accusing me of.

I know part of the solution is to grow a thicker skin, and to block frequently. And I've been working on that, I guess I just... thought I was doing a bit better at growing a thicker skin and not being reactionary and the other day's incident made it really, really apparent I'm not, and I don't know what to do about it, because apparently the therapy is not doing enough! (Not that my therapist understands fandom...)

Any advice?

--

I mean... it's PTSD or something of the sort. Treat it as such.

[betterthanburrow]

New Year’s Eve Reunion - Joe Burrow

Summary: As the end of the year is approaching, an email from an old friend from Athens High School has you considering to go back to the city that you haven’t had a reason to visit in over 8 years… but going back to the place you used to call home means being reunited with the boy who had been searching for the answer as to why you mysteriously left the city after your high school graduation without saying goodbye.

Genre: Fluff and Angst

There was no feeling that could compare to how you feel walking around the city you used to call home… The city that welcomed you with open arms when you were the new girl from out of state. The city where some of the best people and worse people that you’ve ever known lived that shaped you into the person that you are today. The city that changed you in more ways than you’ll ever realize.

It’s been almost 10 years since you’ve been in Athens, Ohio. It was a beautiful city that you had lived in after your mom married your step-mom right during the summer before High School… but there was never any reason for you to return back to the city of Athens after your mom had divorced your step-mom right after you moved out of the house to go to Stanford University.

After moving out of Athens, Ohio you had never thought there would be any reason for you to return… There was no family for you to come back to visit, or amazing job opportunity that you couldn’t pass up, and you had assumed that you didn’t have any best friends from high school that you would ever visit.

Which is why at the beginning of December, as you were working from home in your New York City Apartment… While checking your work emails on your computer, an old email account that you hadn’t seen in years showed up at the top of the screen with an interesting Subject Title.

To: yourfirstname.yourlastname@gmail.com

From: DakotaJohnson740@gmail.com

Subject: New Year’s Eve Reunion!

Hi Y/N! It’s Dakota Johnson from Athens High School.

I hope that you remember me, we had multiple classes through High School and became close friends from freshman year until the end of senior year. Unfortunately we never stayed in touch after our graduation but every once in a while for the past few years, you cross my mind and I always what you have been up too. The only thing that I know about you is that you left Athens to go to Stanford University and never came back home.

Hopefully you don’t find it to strange that I emailed you but I wouldn’t have any other way to send a message to you because I don’t have social media… and I found your email account from searching through thousands of old emails just to find your email address.

The reason why I’m messaging you is because I am planning a New Year’s Eve Reunion with a bunch of our old friends from Athens High School and I was wondering if there’s is any chance that you could come to the get-together?! … Over the past few years, many of our old friends and I have made plans with each other to spend time in Athens just like in High School but, there was always someone missing during those get-together plans and that person is you.

Please respond back to my email as soon as possible if you’re interested in coming to Athens for the New Year’s eve Reunion… So many of our old friends would love to see you again Autumn Reynolds, Eleanor Coleman, Charles Wood, and Joe Burrow because they miss you just as much as I miss you.

Sincerely,

Dakota Johnson.

You read the email that Dakota Johnson has sent to you multiple times, to make sure that it was a real email and not something that you were imagining in your head… It had been years since you’ve heard anything from any one of your old friends from Athens. You had assumed that they all forgot about the new girl in freshman year after you moved away from the city.

It made you emotional to think about how your old friends missed you… and for the first time ever, you hated yourself for never keeping contact with any of your old friends back in Athens.

You didn’t know much about what Dakota Johnson, Autumn Reynolds, Eleanor Coleman, Charles Wood were doing with their lives after graduating High School… but you did know what Joe Burrow has been doing the past couple of years, not because you’re a creepy stalker that keeps up with the boy you had a crush on from freshman year to senior year, but because his name is known across America.

The shy boy from your science class in freshman year has become one of the greatest Quarterbacks in the NFL right now… you have never been a fan of football; but the Cincinnati Bengals are the football team you’ll always root for to win, even if they’re against a NFL Team from New York.

You told yourself that after you finished your work for the day, that you would respond to the email from Dakota Johnson… but maybe that was a bad idea because for the rest of your work day, your mind was distracted by the email to the point where every couple of minutes you had to go back and check that the email was real.

Even after your work day was officially over, you still were sat at your desk staring at your computer screen that had a blank email page opened… not because you didn’t want to go back to Athens, but because you didn’t know what to say to your old friend.

What do you say to someone that you haven’t spoke to since High School Graduation?! You had assumed that all your old friends had forgotten about you, it was kinda hard for you to believe that they still think about you and miss you after being apart all of these years.

To: DakotaJohnson740@gmail.com

From: yourfirstname.yourlastname@gmail.com

Subject: New Year’s Eve Reunion

Hi Dakota Johnson!

Of course I remember you! how could I ever forget about the first friend that I made in the homeroom class during our freshman year of high school and stayed by my side all throughout high school!

I apologize for not staying in touch with you and our other friends after our high school graduation and I’m sorry for never visiting Athens, for the longest time I had just assumed that everyone that did know me at some point had just forgotten about my existence…

With that being said; I would love to come to the New Year’s Eve Reunion in Athens! I live in New York City now but, I’ve experienced the way that New Yorkers ring in the New Year so it’ll be nice to celebrate the New Year with old friends.

my phone number is (929) 101-0009 so you can message me all of the details about the New Year’s Eve Reunion!

i’m looking forwards to seeing you and all of our old friends in Athens for the first time in almost 10 years! There aren’t enough words for me to describe how excited i am for the NYE Reunion!

Sincerely,

YourFirstName YourLastName

For many weeks since you sent the email back to Dakota Johnson, the two of you had been messaging back and forth catching up on each other lives’ on what has been going on the past 8 years.

Other than Joe Burrow’s life, which was changing in front of everyone’s eyes, you didn’t realize how much your other old friends’ lives had changed since you left Athens… Autumn and Charles had gotten together during their freshman year of University and are planning on getting married next Summer, Eleanor had moved out of Ohio after college to California to work as a background dancer for music artists, and Dakota recently earned their Master of Science in Nursing and works at one of the best hospitals in Ohio.

You had told Dakota that after you graduated from Stanford University with your Master’s Degree in Creative Writing and Literature that you moved to New Yorks and are currently working on your first book that will be published next year in the Fall.

December felt like the slowest month of your life, you loved living in New York but you’ve never been so excited to get out of the state and go back to Ohio… You weren’t counting down to Christmas, you were counting down to your flight to Ohio.

As the days of December slowly went by, Christmas was here and you celebrated the Holiday in your apartment by yourself with a glass of red wine and watching all of your favorite classic Christmas movie.

But finally; it was the day before the New Year, it was the day before the New Year’s Eve Reunion, it was the day that you’ll be in Athens for the first time in 8 years… Dakota had offered to pick you up from the airport in Cincinnati so that you wouldn’t be lost in Ohio, which was such a thoughtful gesture from them.

You didn’t realize how emotional you would be returning to the state that you once called home until you heard your name being called by a voice you recognized after all of these years.

“Y/N! I’M OVER HERE!” the voice yelled over the loud noises throughout the airport. You turn your head looking around after you had grabbed your luggage and saw someone waving their hands in the air.

You’re searching for them through the crowd and when you see your old friend for the first time in almost 10 years… The tears from your eyes start to fall, and you don’t waste anymore time to run towards them and pull them into the tightest hug. You could just about imagine how emotional your reunion with your other old friends from Athens will be tomorrow after not seeing them since high school graduation.

“It’s so good to see you again after all of these years.” Dakota whispers. “I missed you so much.”

“I miss you too…” you say with your voice cracking.

“You’re never allowed to spend eight years away from Athens ever again!” Dakota says, causing you to laugh.

“I won’t spend 8 years away from Ohio ever again.” you promised.

After the reunion at the airport, the two of you walked to the front parking lot entrance where Dakota had parked their car and helped you put your luggage suitcases in their car... and it was finally time to start the drive from the airport in Cincinnati to Athens.

Dakota lives in an apartment in Cincinnati where the reunion will be hosted… but the two of you had planned to spend the day in Athens since it’s been 8 years since you’ve visited the beautiful city.

You were scared that things would’ve been awkward between the two of you, it had been so long since you’ve seen them in person… but the two of you conversed with each other as if you hadn’t been apart from each other for the past 8 years.

From talking about old high school gossip to singing along to the old cds’ in Dakota’s car that he had since high school… This is the happiest that you’ve felt all year after being feeling stuck in New York City.

It almost made you feel guilty that you left Athens, but you knew that you wouldn’t have been able to achieve your dreams if you just stayed in the small city in Ohio.

But, you should’ve kept in contact with your old friends… that was a mistake you made that you can’t go back in time to undo, maybe keeping in contact with your old friends would’ve give you a reason to come back to Athens or move back to the place you used to call home.

You were thankful that Dakota let you stay with them in his apartment, where the New Year’s eve Reunion would be hosted along with the rooftop of the apartment complex… but you had to promise them that you would help them decorate the apartment.

After arriving in Athens, Dakota took you all around the city to some of your old favorite places that you couldn’t believe that you had forgotten about… You never would’ve thought that after all those years away, that you would feel like you were home again.

The two of you were sat inside D.P Dough’s restaurant, it was busier than you expected it to be since it was the day before New Year’s Eve and you assumed that most people in Athens would’ve been out of town… You were so hungry after the long morning with the flight, that you didn’t wait a second longer to eat after ordering your food.

“So… Can I ask you question?” you say, after taking a sip of your drink and crossing your arms on the table.

“You just asked me a question.” Dakota sarcastically replied.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled before speaking again, “Who knows that I’m in Athens for the New Year’s Eve Reunion?!”

“Everyone that is invited knows.” Dakota answers, “I know we really only talked about our old mutuals friends these past few weeks… but other people from Athens High School are coming to the reunion too.”

“Oh really?!” you asked, you had just assumed this was a small get-together and not a small party.

“Yeah! Daniel says. “There’s like 30 of our old classmates coming to the New Year’s Eve Reunion!”

You respond, “It’s going to be so weird seeing everyone again after so long.”

“You’re not alone feeling that way.” Dakota states, which causing you to raise an eyebrow at them. “Other than Autumn and Charles who still live in Athens, I hadn’t seen much of anyone from Athens these past few years… The only time I see our old friends is when they come home to visit, so that’s why I wanted to plan this reunion because I know it’s been a long time since most people had seen each other.”

You nodded along to what they said, but didn’t have the courage to respond immediately… because while your old friends had came back to Athens after moving away from the city, you left and never came back.

“Thank you for going out of your way to reach out to me.” you say. “Honestly, I didn’t think anyone from Athens remembered me… so it really did surprise me to see that email from you inviting me to the reunion.”

“Trust me, no one in Athens has forgotten about you.” Dakota assured, “It was actually Joe that had asked me to try and reach out to you whenever I started planning the New Year’s Eve Reunion.”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement... Out of all the people from Athens you didn’t expect Joe Burrow to remember you and be the reason why Dakota had tried to reach out to you.

“Joe asked you to reach out to me?” you asked.

“Yeah… it’s that hard to believe?” They asked and you shrugged your shoulders. “Why is it hard to believe?”

“Because you know who Joe is now right?!” you exclaim. “He’s a quarterback in the NFL, I didn’t think that he would have time to remember some random girl that he used to know from Athens.”

“The Joe you remember from High School is the same Joe now… even with all his success and fame, he’s still the same Joe.” Dakota states. “And he’s had a lot of time to think since he’s not playing football right now.”

“He’s not playing football right now… Why?!” you curiously asked. You didn’t keep up with any sports news so you were surprised to hear this news.

“Joe injured his wrist over a month ago during a game, he’s out for the rest of the season.” Dakota responds. “So he’s had a lot of time to think about other things than football these past few weeks… and I guess you crossed his mind more than once.”

“That’s interesting to know.” you say under your breathe. “Out of all the people from Athens, I didn’t expect him to be the one to want to reach out to me.”

“He’s talked about you a lot throughout these past few months, even before I had emailed you.” Dakota says. “I don’t know why he’s been thinking so much about the people from Athens, but he was the one to give me the idea of hosting this New Year’s Eve Reunion.”

You chuckle, “Maybe it’s because of the new contract he signed with The Bengals… I heard about how he’s going to earn a lot of money over the next few years.”

“Yeah, he will be earning a lot of money but he deserves it after everything he’s been through over the past few years.” Dakota responds, “But even after all that he’s been through, he’s still the same Joe.”

“That’s good to hear… he didn’t let fame go straight to his head unlike some other football players.” you say.

“Same old Joe, just richer with a worse sense of style.” Dakota says which causes the two of you to laugh.

The two of you spend the rest of your time at D.P Dough eating the rest of the delicious food that you order as well as continuing to gossip about old friends… You thought you would’ve been more nervous to see people that you haven’t seen in 8 years again, but you couldn’t be more excited because of how much everyone’s lives have changed.

There was so much that you and Dakota would have to do to prepare for the reunion at his apartment tomorrow, including going last minute shopping for New Year’s Eve decorations and order enough catering to last throughout the entire night.

But just for right now, you were happier than you expected to be in Athens for the first time in 8 years… For the first time in years, you wouldn’t be spending New Year’s Eve by yourself in your apartment in New York, instead you will be home with your old friends.

—

Tonight will be a night that you’ll remember forever… As the clock is ticking closer to midnight and the countdown to the New Year begins, you couldn’t imagine celebrating the end of 2023 in any other way.

The apartment was decorated in Black, Silver, and Gold decorations from Party City that the two of you had picked up yesterday afternoon… You and Dakota had spent all morning decorating their apartment and getting everything prepared for when all of your old friends would arrive at the reunion.

As you finished setting up all the dishes of food that the two of you ordered from one of the most popular restaurants in Cincinnati, BJ’s Restaurant and Brewhouse, the kitchen counter and kitchen table… you watched as Dakota went through their check-list for the twentieth time in the past 30 minutes.

Dakota walked around the apartment, checking items off their list as they mumbled under their breathe. “We have the balloons set up over there and the banner set up as well as the the bucket of decorations for the photo booth…”

“Dakota, I think everything is ready!” you exclaim, interrupting them. “Everything is perfect, just the way that you planned!”

“Are you sure?” Dakota asked, “Or is it all just a bit too much to celebrate the New Year?!”

“No Dakota, it’s perfect!” you exclaim. “This will definitely be the best New Year’s Eve Reunion ever!”

They wanted this New Year’s Eve Reunion to be perfect. It was the first time in so long that many of their close friendds from Athens High School would be getting together since High School Graduation.

After convincing Dakota that everything for the New Year’s Eve Reunion was perfect, they explained to you that they told everyone to arrive at his apartment around 4pm… Which had you a little confused on why people would be arriving at the apartment so early?!

“It’s because of the football game between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Cincinnati Bengals. This is one of the most important games of the year because of the rivalry between the two teams for the past two years, everyone will be watching this game.” Dakota explains.

“Oh okay… but you said Joe was injured, so he’s not going to the football game?!” you asked.

“The football game is in Kansas City, and he’s been traveling with the football team to games even though he’s not playing on the field.” Dakota says.

“Joe is still going to be at the New Year’s Eve Reunion or will he not be able to make it because he’ll be stuck in Kansas City?!” you ask.

“If luck is on our side… Joe will be here before midnight.” Dakota answers. “I talked to him this morning and he’s going to do anything he can to make it here after the game.”

“That’s good to know, I’m excited to see him.” you say.

A cheeky smile appears on Dakota’s face, “Oh I know… and I promise that he’s excited to see you too!”

The time was going by fast and before you realized how fast the time was going by… The guests had finally started to arrive at Dakota’s apartment right before the football game between Kansas City vs Cincinnati.

This was Dakota’s New Year’s Eve Reunion that they had been planning for weeks, and you tried your hardest to remember that as guests walked through the door… You didn’t want to make this all just about you reuniting with your old friends that you hadn’t seen since High School Graduation, because most of these people were just seeing each for the first time in a long time as well. It was a reunion for everyone.

It was an emotional reunion seeing your old friends from Athens just like you had expected it to be. You didn’t realize how much you missed your old friends until now, and it made you feel guilty again for leaving Athens and not caring to continue communications.

Everyone had changed, everyone was all grown up. You don’t understand how you never realized that there had been so much change between those 8 years that you were gone from Athens… but while things changed, the love your old friends have for you never changed.

Even your old classmates that you weren’t really close to during High School but were still apart of the mutual friend group were excited to see you… Just like when you had moved to Athens when you were 14 years old, everyone had welcomed you with opens arms.

You learned so much about your old friends’ new lives since High School Graduation, it’s crazy to think that the old friends you used to sit next to at lunch and partner up with for projects are living their dreams.

The celebrations of the night began once the football game started, Dakota popped a bottle of champagne and filled everyone’s glasses to the top right at kick-off.

Some people were watching the game in the living room, while other people were in the kitchen but still paying attention every now and then. You assume that most people are huge fans of the Cincinnati Bengals or were just cheering for the team because of Joe… even though he was playing because every now and then the camera would pan over to Joe and show his reaction to whatever was happening in the game.

This was the first time you had seen Joe in a long time, there was so much about him that was different but at the same time he still looked like the young boy that you had a crush on during High School.

“Are you excited to see Joe later?” Eleanor asked as she sits right next to you on the sofa with a paper plate of food in her lap. “I haven’t seen Joe in over a year, I think the last time I saw him was when the Bengals played in the Super Bowl at Sofa Stadium… He invited me to the football game since I live in California.”

“I’m excited to see him.” you answer, “I haven’t seen him since our High School Graduation.”

“It’s been that long since you’ve seen Joe?!” Autumn asked, interrupting the conversation.

You nod your head, “Yeah… it’s been 8 long years.”

“I’m kinda surprised Joe never went to try and find you just because of how much he talks about you when we hang out.” Autumn stated, which causes you to raise an eyebrow at her. “I don’t know if Dakota told you, but Joe is the reason why they reached out to you.”

“Dakota told me, but I didn’t think it was a big deal.” you say. “Joe talks about me that much to where you thought he was going to try and find me in New York?”

“He talks about you in a ‘the girl that got away’ way” Charles answers. “Did something happen between the two of you in high school that we don’t know about.”

You shake your head, “No… Nothing happened between us. We were always just friends from freshman year to senior year.”

“And then you left Athens after graduation.” Eleanor says and you nod your head, because you couldn’t lie.

The conversation stopped as everyone went back to paying attention to the football game on TV, cheering when the Bengals team did something good and yelling at the team through the TV when they were not doing a good job as people expected from them.

For the past few weeks, you always had been the most excited to see Joe out of everyone that you knew would be coming to the reunion just because Joe and you were always close since freshman year of High School… and you feel the most guilty about never continuing to communicate with him after graduation not because of the fame and success he has now but because he was the definition of a true friend.

You’re not stupid, you realize that Joe must’ve said some things to your old friends over the past few years since you’ve been gone that has sparked curiosity into their minds that something had happened between the two of you during high school… but as far as you remember, nothing had ever happened.

But maybe that’s the reason why Joe talked about in the “girl that got away” way to your old friends, maybe because nothing had happened between the two of you is the reason why you’re still on his mind after all of these years… No matter how many girls he had been rumored to be hooking up with or dating and the many instagram models that slide into his Instagram Direct Messages with a terribly sexual pick-up line, the girl that he knew from Athens is the only girl on his mind.

It was hard for you to sit and watch the football game with all of these thoughts running through your mind. Once the game went to halftime, you got up from your spot next to Eleanor on the couch and used the excuse of “needing a drink refill” to go over to the kitchen.

You walked into the kitchen to see Dakota and a few other of your old classmates from Athens talking amongst each other while snacking on the appetizers.

“You got tired of watching the game already?!” Dakota asks as they walk over to you away from the group after noticing you in the kitchen.

You shake your head, “I needed a drink refill… I never imagine myself getting so stressed out over football.”

“Are you stressed about the football game… or are you stressed about seeing Joe later tonight?” Dakota whispers over your shoulder.

Your eyes go wide and turn around to face them, “What?! I’m not stressed about seeing Joe… Why would I get stressed about that?!”

“I would be stressed out to if I was seeing my high school crush for the first time in 8 years… especially if they’re as attractive as Joe.” Dakota states.

You roll your eyes as you take a sip of champagne, “A high school crush is just that… a high school crush.”

“You could say that if Joe grew up to be ugly and I was laughing at you for having a crush on a guy that turned out that way… but, you thought Joe was cute back then and I can tell just from the way your eyes light up when he shows up on TV that you find him hot now. You can’t lie to me, I know the only reason you’re paying attention to go the game is to watch for when Joe shows up on the TV.” Dakota defensively says.

A blush appears on your face as you take another sip of champagne, not knowing how to respond to Dakota… you’re not saying that they’re right, but they’re not wrong about observations because Joe was the only reason you were paying attention to the game.

After pouring another refill of champagne and conversing with some of your old classmates from high school for the rest of halftime… You walked back into the living room to sit back on the couch just as the 3rd quarter of the football game was about to start.

At first it was just a few people sitting around in the living room watching the game, but after a while everyone was sitting around in the living room paying close attention to what was happening on the TV.

Honestly, you didn’t know what was going on a majority of the time during the game but you acted like you knew what was happening when everyone around you would clap or shout at the TV.

If you thought the first half of the game was going by slow, then you weren’t prepared for how slow the second half of the game was going… Once the sun had set you could hear fireworks in the distance from people already starting to celebrate the New Year even though it was still a few hours from midnight.

You had learned through all of your old friends talking throughout the game that this was a very important game for The Bengals, not just because it was against one of their rival teams… but because if The Bengals lose the game, they’re out of the runnings for the playoffs and their last game of the season is next week.

Also, you learned how hard of a season it had been for The Bengals even before the season started. Joe had suffered a calf injury during the second day of training camp that affected The Bengals during their first 6 games, losing some of their best players from last season during the off-season, signing players that didn’t add anything special to the team, and other players had suffered injuries throughout the season… overall their had been this glooming cloud over their heads that just got darker after Joe suffered his wrist injury even with the small light that the back-up quarterback brought back for the team.

As the football game was coming to an end, the chances of The Bengals winning against The Chiefs was going down… you may have not understood everything that was happening, but from your friends’ reactions you could tell that something wasn’t going right whether it was the players not playing as well as expected or if it was referees doing their dirty work.

The final score of the game appeared on the screen as a signal that it was over. Not just that the game was over but that the season was over for The Bengals after next week’s game… Your heart broke for your friends who were sad about the end results of the seasons, but also you felt sad for Joe and his team that looked heartbroken at the end of the game.

“I hope Joe is still going to want to attend the reunion even after the end of the terrible game.” Eleanor says.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he goes home to his new house after they arrive home.” one of your old classmates, Cindy says. “We know what he can be like after The Bengals lose a game.”

“It’s a 2 hour flight from Kansas City to Cincinnati… so he’ll have plenty of time to think about whether or not he wants to hang out with his old friends from Athens.” Daniel, another one of your old classmates, states.

“I hope he doesn’t bail on us like last time a bunch of us tried to get together.” Charles says.

“Joe’s not going to bail on us… Y/N is here with us!” Dakota exclaims. “They’re the reason why this reunion is happening in the first place!”

As the pre-show for the Sunday Night Football game started… everyone split off into their own groups whether they were making their dinner plates to go out on the balcony watch the fireworks, starting to get the photo-booth set up for pictures to post on social media at Midnight, or staying in their spot on the couch with a new beer drink in their hand to watch the pre-show.

You had gotten up from your spot on the couch and walked around the apartment, trying to find your place amongst the people you used to know… You didn’t contribute much to their conversations, just listening to your old friends talk about their new lives whether they still live in Ohio or if they moved out of the state. But the difference is that they continued to keep in contact with people from Athens while you didn’t keep in contact at all.

In an apartment full of people that you used to know, you felt lonelier than you have ever felt before with the glass of champagne in your hand… and you are starting to wonder if the person you were most excited to see tonight was even going to show up at all.

—

The New Year’s Eve Reunion moved from Dakota’s apartment to the rooftop of his apartment complex. Everyone has a glass of champagne in their hands as they watched the fireworks from all around the city being exposed into the sky.

Everyone in the city of Cincinnati were counting down the minutes until Midnight, but you were wishing that time would slow down… not because you didn’t want to go into a new year, but because the one person that you wanted to celebrate the New Year with wasn’t here.

“Are you excited for 2024?” Dakota asked as the walked up to you. “I remember you mentioning yesterday you’ll be publishing your first book this year.”

“I am excited for the new year!” you answer, then taking a sip of your champagne. “Yeah, I hope that 2024 is going to be a memorable year.”

Dakota nodded their head, “You haven’t given up on Joe showing up yet right?! Everyone else is just assuming that he’s not showing up cause he should’ve been here by now.”

You shrug your shoulders, “Like you said… he should’ve been here by now, so who knows what’s going on. Maybe some people were right about him not wanting to come here after the terrible football game.”

“Remember what we were talking about yesterday. Joe will always be the same Joe that we knew from high school… There was only one time that he bailed on us to hang out as a group and it was for an important reason, he didn’t just bail on us because he doesn’t want to hang out with us anymore.” Dakota explains.

Their words about Joe makes you smile, it’s always good to hear that the boy you knew from Athens High School grew up into the nice man that his friends praise him to be.

You don’t have any doubts that Joe would be able to make it. You trust Dakota’s words more than anyone else who is doubting his arrival… and Dakota wouldn’t lie to you, so if they said that Joe is coming then he is.

There was still just about 20 minutes to midnight, but people around you were already getting a little too tipsy off the champagne as if the clock had already struck midnight. Another glass of champagne might help you get through the rest of the night if …

The man of the hour, the man that everyone from Athens High School had been looking forward to seeing again… Joe Burrow is standing right in front of everyone with his hand in the pockets of his long black coat and a beanie with his curls falling out.

“Hey everyone!” a voice exclaimed, that had everyone turning their heads towards the rooftop entrance.

There’s noise all around you but you felt frozen in place as you watched Joe and your old classmate greet each other with hugs, wishing everyone a Happy New Year.

“I told you he was going to be here.” Dakota whisper in your ear and patting your back before walking over to Joe to greet him for the first time in a few weeks.

You took a gulp of champagne as you continue to watch Joe, who is now talking to Dakota and another one of your old classmates that you didn’t recognize.

Joe leans closer to whisper something to Dakora before you seem them smile and point towards your direction… When Joe looks over to where Dakota was pointing, a smile appears on his face when he finally notices you standing across the rooftop from him.

You shyly wave towards them as you watch Dakota whisper something to Joe that causes him to laugh as he’s still looking at you… Your mind couldn’t help but wander off into trying to figure out what they could be laughing at.

Were they laughing at you… or laughing about you?!

Before your mind had any chance to theorize about what they could be laughing at, you saw Joe and Dakota walking towards your direction… After taking one last sip of champagne, you place your glass into the rooftop railing that is right next to you and try to act as natural as possible without giving any sign of you freaking out on the inside.

“Hello Y/N! Long time no see!” Joe exclaims right as he and Dakota are walking right in front of you.

“Hey Joe! It’s so good to see you again.” you say, when you see him open arms to give you a hug. You walk towards him to accept his hug.

Joe’s arms wrap around your waist as your arms wrap around his neck and the two of you sway for just a few seconds… When you glance over Joe’s shoulder, you can see Dakota standing a little farther back with a smile on his face.

The hug lasted only just a few seconds longer before the two of you pulled away from each other with matching smiles on your faces and putting your hands in your coat pockets as the breezes goes by.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Joe exclaims. “It’s been 8 years since you’ve been in Ohio… That’s a long time.”

“Yeah it is has been that long… and I can’t believe you’re here too!” you say. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been… fine.” Joe answers. “Things haven’t gone the way I wished the last few weeks… but things will get better next year, that’s what we’re all wishing for.”

“Yeah I heard about some of those things… I’m sorry about your wrist injury, I can’t imagine what it’s like going through something like that.” you respond.

“It’s alright, I don’t need sympathy…” Joe says, “How have you been? Dakota told me you’re going to be publishing your first book in 2024?!”

You nod, “Yeah, I’ve been working on the book for almost two years so I’m ready for it to be publish.”

“I hope I get a signed copy from the author!” Joe cheekily says which causes you to laugh and agree to give him a signed copy when your book is published.

For a few seconds, Joe just stares at you which causes you to raise an eyebrow. “Do I have something on my face?” you ask as you start touching around your mouth to see if there was any crumbs from the food.

“No! No! There’s nothing on your face.” Joe exclaims as he shook his head. “I just… I just can’t believe you’re home for the first time in 8 years.”

“I can’t believe it either.” you say, as you reach for your empty glass from the rooftop railing just to have something to fidget with in your hands.

“I missed you.” Joe confessed, stepping closer to you.

“That’s what I’ve heard.” you say, with a smirk on your face as you make eye contact with Joe.

He furrows his brows, “What have you heard?”

“Nothing bad I promise!” you exclaim. “Dakota has just told me a few things. You know they love to gossip.”

Joe laughs, “Of course… So I’m assuming that you were told that I’m the reason Dakota reached out to you to invite you to this reunion.”

You nod your head as you lean back against the rooftop railing, “That’s one of the things I heard… who would’ve know the Cincinnati Quarterback thinks alot about a girl he used to know from Athens High School.”

Joe steps closer to you as he leans against the rooftop railing, resting his arm on top of the railing. “Why wouldn’t I think about the girl from Athens High School who just mysteriously left the state without saying good-bye and never returned until 8 years later… this is what the kids’ these days call ‘My Roman Empire’.”

You sighed and look to the ground as your crossed your arms over your chest… you knew Joe was just making a joke out of the situation but once again you couldn’t help but feel guilty at your past actions.

“I didn’t mean to be gone for so long…” you respond, “I just never felt like there was a good enough reason to come back until now.”

Once again Joe furrows his brows, but this time you didn’t notice, “What do you mean there wasn’t a good enough reason to come back?”

You didn’t verbally answer, you didn’t know how to verbally answer him… so you shrugged your shoulders.

“I know your mom and step-mom had divorced right after High School Graduation… but was your friends not a good enough reason to come back, was Dakota not a good enough reason? Was I not a good enough reason?” Joe frustratedly asked.

You look up at Joe and immediately start shaking your head, “That’s not… That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean when you said that there wasn’t a good enough reason to come back?” he asks.

“Athens was the closest thing to home that I ever experienced in my life… I hope you remember the many stories I had told you about how my mom and I moved around the country because my mom’s family didn’t accept her after she came out as a Lesbian and she was always scared that they would find her to try and take me away from her.” you stated. “And then my mom met my step-mom and they fell in love, so we moved to Athens. I finally had a place to call home and I didn’t have to worry about always keeping a suitcase full of clothes packed and wondering which city I would wake up in… but 4 years later right before high school graduation they told me that they were getting a divorce because my step-mom had an affair with my mom’s boss. I was planning on leaving Athens to go to Stanford University but also, I planned on coming home if my mom was living in the city but she moved far away from Ohio and I could never build up courage to visit the city because I left everything behind.”

It took a couple of seconds for Joe to respond, you could see the gears turning in his head as he processed all of the information that you had just given him.

The silence between the two of you was so loud that you could hear someone shout in the distance that it was 10 minutes until Midnight… which means that it’s so close to the start of the New Year, it was so close to celebrating with the people who are the closest thing that you ever had to a real family.

“I’m sorry you went through all of that…” Joe whispers. “I remember the stories that you had told me when we were younger, all of the struggled that you and your mom had faced for so many years… and that’s one of the reasons why I’ve always thought about you over the past few years.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m very thankful that you were there for me by my side and being a person that I could trust.” you say. “And I wish I would’ve trusted you enough to be a person to have been the person to keep me coming back to Athens.”

“I don’t blame you for leaving… you had to do what you needed to do after what your step-mom did to you and your mom.” Joe says. “I just wish we could’ve stayed in contract with each other, even if it was just to check up on each other every couple of days.”

You nod your head in agreement, “This visit to Athens has really made me feel guilty about keeping contact with the people that cared about me… Everyone else that moved away was able to do it, but I couldn’t.”

“Well it’s never too late to keep in contact with us now.” Joe says, reaching in the pocket of his coat and pulling out his phone. He quickly unlocks it before handing it to you. “Put your phone number in the phone, I’m taking you out tomorrow in Athens.”

You smile as you type your phone number into a brand new contact, and then you give him back his phone. “An area code from New York City?!” he asks.

“Yeah, I live in New York City!” you answer.

“Wow… Really?” he says and you nod your head. “Okay… you might think that I sound crazy but a few months ago, I was in New York for this Charity Partnership and I swear when I went to get lunch that I saw you but, I had thought that I was imagining but, I don’t think I was imagining anymore. The woman that I saw was you!”

“If you went get lunch at Cafe Manhattan then it was probably me because I go and eat there for lunch almost everyday when I’m in New York.” you respond.

“It was Cafe Manhattan!” Joe exclaims which causes you to laugh. “I swear I was going crazy for months thinking if I had seen you or not… I told Dakota about it which led to our conversation about doing this New Year’s Eve Reunion with a bunch of our old friends from Athens.”

“Yeah they had told me yesterday that this New Year’s Eve Reunion was your idea.” you say.

“We were just talking about how it had been so long since all our friends from Athens had got together to hang out like we did in high school… and most people are in their hometowns for the Holidsys, so Dakota just took the chance to plan the event and to invite people and now here we are on New Year’s Eve!” Joe stated.

“I can’t believe it’s almost the new year.” you say.

“I’m so ready for this year to be over…” Joe whispers as he looks at the ground.

“In less than 5 minutes it’s going to be a new year and you’ll never have to experience a day in 2023 ever again!” you exclaim, after checking your watch.

“Thank God… this was a rough year.” Joe states. “Everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong.”

You place a hand on his shoulder to give him some comfort. “Don’t think about the bad things that happened this year… Tell me one good thing that happened this year.”

Joe looked up from the ground to you and smiled, “The girl that mysteriously left Athens came home.”

Maybe the redness that appeared on your cheeks was because of the wind… or maybe the redness that appeared on your cheeks is because you’re blushing.

“I’m flattered… but there has to be some other good thing that had happened to you this year.” you say.

Joe shakes his head, “No… nothing is better than this.” he says as he wraps his arm around your shoulder to smoothly pull you close to him and you wrap your arms around his waist.

The two of you watch the fireworks explode in the night sky, as the clock was ticking closer to midnight more fireworks appeared across the sky… You’ve spent the past few years watching the New Years fireworks celebrations from your balcony in New York City, but the sight of fireworks have never been so beautiful.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Dakota watching you and Joe with a smile on their face as they raise their glass to “toast” towards the two of you when you make eye contact with them.

When you turn back to focus on the night sky full of fireworks, you had assumed that Joe was continuing to watch the fireworks show… but when you took a quick glance in his direction, he was staring at you.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask him.

Joe thinks for a few seconds then asks, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just asked me a question.” you answer which caused Joe to laugh. “But yes, you can ask me a question.”

He takes a sip of champagne and places his glass on the rooftop railing before turning his attention back to you. “Will you be my New Year’s Kiss?”

You let out a laugh, “You didn’t want to ask any other of your old classmates from Athens High School to be your New Year’s Kiss?”

Joe makes a face and shakes his head, “There’s only one girl from Athens High School that I want to kiss.”

The people around you always started the countdown, there was just one minute until the New Year… but you and Joe were stuck a bubble in your own world.

“Can I ask you another question?” Joe asks, you laugh.

“You have alot of questions for me tonight!” you exclaim. “But yes you can ask me another question.”

“I don’t know when you’re leaving Ohio… but will you come back to Athens with me before you leave?” he asked. “I’m going visit my parents just for two days before having to go back to work, and I would love for you to join me.”

“I’m staying in Ohio until January 10th… so I definitely would love to spend a few days with you in Athens.” you answer.

“That good information to know…” Joe says with a smirk on his face that you just wanted to kiss so bad.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you’re already planning out what we’re going to do in Athens.” you say.

Joe nods his head, “I’m going back to Athens tomorrow and Tuesday, then I’ll be in Cincinnati until Sunday for The Bengals last game of the season… then I’ll be back in Athens for a couple of more days. So you’re going to be stuck with me the entire time!”

You laugh at the last part of Joe’s plans, “I guess it’s fair for me to be stuck with you for the next couple of days since I was gone for 8 years.”

“Let’s not talk about the past, let’s focus on the future.” Joe says. “The New Year is so close upon us.”

“TEN!”

The two of you look at the sky and see the fireworks…

“NINE!”

Joe lifts up his glass of champagne and takes a sip…

“EIGHT!”

He places his empty glass on the rooftop railing…

“SEVEN!”

Joe looks at you and smiles…

“SIX!”

You look at Joe and smiles…

“FIVE”

“Are you ready for 2024?” Joe asks in a whisper.

“FOUR!”

You nod your head, “I’m ready for 2024!”

“THREE!”

You lean closer to Joe…

“TWO!”

Joe places his left hand on your cheek…

“ONE!”

Joe leans closer to you…

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

And he kisses you…

There’s an explosion of fireworks in the night sky as people cheer on the beginning on the New Year. You didn’t want to pull away from Joe, you’ve waited much longer than 8 years for this first kiss with him.

The two of you had to pull away, not only just to breathe but so that people wouldn’t be staring at how of their old classmates making out in the corner of the rooftop.

He smiles as he leans his forehead against yours, “Happy New Year!” he whispers to you.

“Happy New Year!” you whisper back to him.

Joe leans back against the rooftop railing and pulls you closer to him as you rest your body against him. The two of you watched the fireworks in the sky and said “Happy New Year!” to your old friends that passed by.

For the rest of the night, you stayed by Joe’s side. After feeling a little bit lonely throughout the night, not being able to find your place amongst your old friends… You finally had someone to stay by your side for the night.

You grateful that your old friends from Athens High School never forgot about you and gave you a reason to visit Athens after being gone for years… You’re happy you accepted Dakota’s New Year’s Eve Reunion invitation, because otherwise you would’ve been stuck all by yourself in your apartment in New York City.

The future year looks to be so exciting; your first book was going to be published this year, you’re rebuilding friendships with your old friends, the boy from Athens High School that you had a crush on is now wrapped around your finger, and you’re already planning your next future visits to Athens, Ohio.

It felt so good to be back to the first place you called home. Surrounded by the people that welcomed you into the city with open arms, the people that were some of the best people in high school or the worse people in high school that shaped you into the person that you are today, and the people that changed you in more ways than you’ll ever realize.

Author’s Note:

Happy New Year! and Happy First Joe Burrow Fanfiction of 2024! I’m very excited for this year and I can’t wait to see what happens in the future!

thank you for all the love and support! 🤍

[occatorcreator]

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

5 - Difficult Reconciliation

After the fight, Purple just wishes to forget everything about his old friends. Easier said than done when all he finds is reminders of them everywhere and he's lonelier then ever. Perhaps there is still time to reconcile?

The first thing Purple did when he got home was destroy the portal frame. If they had decided to break it off, then he did not want them back for any surprise visits.

He blocked their number too, once they began bombarding him with texts.

The villagers watched on as he stomped about in rage, like a stick figure possessed, and gave him a wide berth. Purple made avoiding him easier for them by digging straight down into the desktop until he hit the mines, wanting monsters to fight.

Instead, he landed on the tracks of Yellow’s roller coaster. He remembered how excited Yellow was to show them all their elaborate coaster, practically shoving Purple in the front seat in their excitement. The utter joy on everyone’s faces burned in his memory.

Purple kicked a track piece so hard it reverted it back into an item, and he tore off into a random direction in the caves, far from Yellow’s memory.

Once he got his mindless slaughter out of his system, he returned to the surface with more gunpowder, rotten flesh, and bones than he really knew what to do with. He climbed up towards the castle, wishing to return these kills in his chest and to flop on his bed. Yet everywhere he looked around, he saw those little added touches to his village: the lovely rebuilt tower Green decorated, the redstone elevators Yellow set up for the villagers, the lush farms and animal pens Blue and Red took care of…

“Remove it,” Purple said to the villagers in his throne room many days later.

“Remove it?” A villager asked, “but why? Lord Purple, what happened?”

“Do you question your Lord?” Purple snapped. “I said to remove it.”

The villagers turned to mutter to each other, not doing as he ordered them, and he felt his anger rising.

“I said to remove it all!” Purple snapped. “Everything that they crafted is polluting our village!”

“But, your friends made these gifts for us…”

“They’re not my friends anymore! They abandoned us,” Purple said, reveling in the shocked gasps of the crowd. “I no longer wish to be associated with them. And if they dare set foot in the village, detain them.”

“But, why would they abandon you?” Another villager asked, several more chimed in in disbelief. “Purple, surely, we could speak with them!”

“That’s Lord Purple to you, and there is nothing left to discuss!” Purple snapped, standing up sharply, “I’m going out on a supply run, and if I don't find everything removed by the time I get back, then I will be sentencing people to exile!”

He marched past the crowds and back into the mines again. He longed to go to the nether, but he couldn’t risk making a portal now, just in case the others come entering the portal later.

Not like they haven’t tried making their own, Purple thought, they have the means to, yet they never tried. I guess that shows that they didn’t really care.

He wondered if Minecraft had other places to portal to, take him somewhere that didn’t have any connections to his former friends. He’d need to research it, but the thought of researching felt taxing at the moment. 

When he surfaced with diamonds, he discovered that the villagers honored his request and had removed all the additions the gang had made.

“We did as you ordered, my lord,” the villager said, though they did not hide their displeasure from him. “Is it to your liking now?”

No, Purple thought with a heavy heart, I don’t get it. Seeing it hurt… but seeing it all stripped away…

“It’s satisfactory,” he bit out, trying to sound pleased, “I’ll be in my room now.”

He lay in bed, staring at his ceiling and finding no rest. He could hear the phantoms screeching outside…

=

“Purple, I got an email from someone named Alan Becker,” Alana asked on the rare day she checked in, “He was asking if you were doing okay?”

While the number was blocked, there were other ways to contact the computer he was on. Purple wondered if the Animator actually sent something or if it was Green or Yellow instead.

“I’m fine,” Purple lied as he wrote.

“Are you and your friends getting along?” Alana typed, “He asked if you could go to their computer to chat.”

“Some other time,” Purple said, not wanting to admit to Alana of his loss of his friends. “I’m busy.”

“If you say so…”

“Also! Don’t open any attachments from him?” Purple added, “stick figures sometimes try to sneak on and… that can be dangerous.”

“Ok? I guess I’ll tell him to triple check before he sends,” Alana typed and then left.

After that, Purple didn’t hear much activity from them. He focused on researching other dimensions in Minecraft. There was a place called ‘The End’ and there was a final boss to fight, a dragon. He went to work prepping a way to go to the End and fight the dragon, desiring to take its coveted egg as a prize. Yet, despite his new goal to distract him, he found it a chore to prepare for it. Minecraft lost its luster without looking forward to what challenge Green came up with or what exploit Yellow would find in the code or Red’s humorous attempts of acrobatics or Blue’s rather bizarre, yet creative use of potions…

The prospect of fighting the dragon all by himself left him feeling adrift.

“Is this what you felt, mom, when dad left?” He asked out loud one day, when he was the most alone. The villagers have been keeping their distance from him ever since they tore down the village’s amenities, and he found himself equally detached from the cold place his village became. All he had left was himself to talk to.

“There were ups and downs,” he admitted, “it was the longest I ever had friends. With people that chose to be with me…”

He felt his eyes burn, but he refused to cry. He wouldn’t be like Orchid, sobbing after Navy when he marched out the door.

“I guess that is it then,” Navy said, “I’m leaving.”

Purple gasped at the memory, for the last words Navy ever said to them sounded painfully familiar.

“No…” Purple muttered, shaking his head in realization, “that– Was this how dad felt? Because he walked away… I walked away… I even repeated what he said…”

He never considered how his father felt that day. He didn’t want to because how could Navy’s feelings matter more than his mother’s tears and his own grief. Yet suddenly, in that moment, he realized that, perhaps, Navy was just as frustrated and hurt like Purple was towards his own friends. Perhaps he was frustrated that the relationships with his wife and kid were not going how it should have, that he could have felt lost as he became unable to connect with Purple or Orchid.

Purple wondered if Navy chose to walk away and never look back because he couldn’t handle the heartbreak. Did Navy ever miss Purple, despite being the one to walk away, just like how Purple missed his old friends?

“What have I done?” Purple whispered, the tears he suppressed were free falling, “Mom, I wish you were here. I still don’t know if what I’m doing is the right option. I felt awful, but…”

Should he reach out to them? Could he rebuild the village? Or was it too late?

Purple was scared. He just sat there paralyzed.

No, do the thing Navy couldn’t do, he told himself, reach out to them.

He took out his phone and unblocked the number.

‘hey it’s me. i needed some time to process and im sorry. for walking out like i did. if you guys still want to talk it out, could you come to my computer?’

He then shoved it back in his pocket and waited for a response. He waited, he paced, he waited some more. When he could no longer bear to, he checked the group chat. It was on read, but there was no response. Even after the next day, and the day after that. None of them reached out.

His heart broke to pieces. He was too late.

Then again, if Navy texted me out of the blue, Purple thought, arms going limp to his side, I don’t think I would want to respond either.

=

Purple was geared up. He built the ender frames beneath his castle, hidden by a redstone door. He had all the supplies, enchantments, and potions to help him with his fight.

His goal was to kill the dragon, grab its egg and… well, he hadn’t figured out what to do with step three yet. All the egg would be would be bragging rights.

Bragging rights to who? To the villagers who hate you? He thought, to your nonexistent friends?

He took a breath and bade his villagers goodbye. He heard the end dimension was vast so he would be gone for longer than usual.

He approached his redstone door and raised his fist to knock--

“Let go of us!”

Green? Purple stopped and turned around.

“It’s us! Green and Blue!” Blue shouted. “Why are you grabbing us?”

Purple raced over to see the villagers grabbing at them. 

“Wait! Let them go!” he demanded.

The villagers and stick figures stopped in their struggles and looked at Purple in shock and confusion. “My Lord, what about your orders?”

“Orders?” Green demanded.

“I changed my mind,” Purple said, “Let them go.”

And with that the villagers let them go, causing them to drop on the floor. Green and Blue pushed themselves up and dusted off the grime. Purple could feel his heart hammering wildly, though he kept a calm expression.

“I didn’t expect you to be back,” Purple said after a moment.

“We got your text a while back,” Blue said.

“You took a while,” Purple said, “I thought you didn’t want to talk.”

“Gee, I wonder why?” Green snapped. “You ghosted us for weeks and now you want to talk? You know we could have returned it in kind.”

“Green, please,” Blue said, before Purple could open his mouth, “remember what I said? We’re here to talk, not fight.”

“Where are Red and Yellow?” Purple asked.

Green and Blue shrugged. “I remember seeing them chilling on our web page last I checked,” Blue said.

“Yeah, and I caught her,” Green jabbed a finger at Blue, “building a portal to get to you. Without telling us!”

“If you didn’t want to come, you could have stayed back at the desktop,” Blue huffed.

“I didn’t want to see you get into trouble,” Green said, crossing his arms.

Already this was a messy start. Only Blue came to reach out?

“I wish everyone was here,” Purple said, shuffling his feet, “I need to talk to you all… about my behavior that day.”

To that he saw Green and Blue’s shoulders droop, if only slightly. Blue appeared the most saddened while Green’s expression was eerily cold.

“It hurt, you know,” Blue confessed.

“I know,” Purple said.

“We missed you,” Blue said, “We all did.”

Purple couldn’t help himself, bitterness let out. “It didn’t feel like you did to me.”

Green turned around sharply, moving to leave but Blue grabbed his arm and halted him. He resisted only a bit against her grasp, but he had no fight in him.

“Doesn’t feel like you missed us either!” Green snapped, voice warbling, “I almost wanted to rush here the moment I saw that text, but I didn’t know how it would go! And now that I have, I see–” he looked helplessly around, “–everything is different! You really removed everything we built here?”

Purple cringed, unable to say anything to that observation.

His silence only caused Green to hang his head in disappointment. “This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have come, Blue,” Green said, ripping his arm out of her grasp.

“Wait, please,” Purple reached his arm out. “I really want to talk to all of you. I made some bad decisions when I left, and you all need to hear it. Blue, can you reach out to Red and Yellow? Ask them to come here?”

“And we’ll talk it out?” Blue asked.

“I will. Promise.” Purple said, crossing his heart.

There was tension, both looking to Green for a response. Green still had his back turned away from them. Then he sighed and pulled his phone to text something.

“They’re not answering yet. Yellow’s laptop probably isn’t nearby,” Green said, “it’ll be awhile.”

So they needed to wait, which would be awkward with just the three of them standing here. Purple looked at the door he was about to enter.

“Say, I guess until they text us back, do you want to do something with me?”

Green shot Purple a weary look while Blue shuffled, unsure.

“What did you have in mind?” Blue asked.

=

Maybe fighting a dragon boss should have waited after the talk. Turns out trying to fight while you were recovering from one with your party made fighting in a coordinated fashion impossible. Somehow, Green ended up on top of the dragon and was steering it off into the void, while Blue and Purple hung by a fishing rod beneath it.

Purple could see that the egg had spawned once the dragon was out of bounds.

Great! We just need to somehow fly back, grab it, and close that portal! Purple thought. But how do we–

SMACK

Purple and Blue hit the mast of a hovering ship. How convenient! Blue quickly discovered the switch to pilot the ship and pursue the dragon, while Purple found the elytra wings in the hull after dodging a shukler’s attack.

“Purple, help me tie the rod to the boat!” Blue shouted.

“On it!” Purple ran up and helped Blue tug the fishing rod around the mast.

“I’m going to reverse it and keep the dragon from those pillars,” Blue said, yanking the lever back.

“Right, then I can get the egg with these on,” Purple said, flapping the wings on his back.

Blue frowned, looking upward at Green and the dragon. “But what about-”

Blue didn’t get to finish her statement before Green was sent down careening into Blue’s arms.

“Ow,” he groaned, rubbing his head.

“Okay, I’m going!” Purple said.

He made it a point to not look down in the void below. If the wings didn’t work, he’d know for certain. He’d rather not psyche himself out. He leapt off the ship, the wind roaring in his ears as he flew across the void towards the End Island.

Yes! It’s working! Purple grinned at the way the wings swooped. That egg is mine!

“Purple!”

Blue’s distressed scream paused Purple in his flight. His wings flapped wildly, trying to stabilize as the dragon swooped right above his head, untethered.

The dragon’s free? What happened to the boat?

There was no boat, somehow it was all gone. Only Blue and Green remained, floating and clinging to each other for dear life.

“Please help!” Blue yelled, “We don’t have much time!”

Time seemed to slow down, and in that split second, Purple entertained the thought of leaving them to grab the egg. If he didn’t, then the dragon would guard the entrance, possibly killing all three of them. Besides, death wasn’t permanent in Minecraft, they’d just respawn…

But that would require turning his back on them. If he chose the egg over them, then he’d be telling them that their friendship is truly over. There would be no apology, there would be no reconciliation.

Really, there is only one right option, Purple thought.

He dove after them.

Time resumed as normal and he saw them drop suddenly. He went down and clasped Green’s outstretched hand. Green and Blue smiled up at him in relief, but then the moment the effect wore off and their weight dragged him down. Purple tried to flap his wings, but it was clear that it couldn’t handle the weight of three stick figures without any momentum.

No, no, no! Purple strained as they fell down towards the void below. Not like this! Not like this!

Then, suddenly, he felt hands clasp his ankles, and they stopped with a painful jerk. The sudden stop almost had Purple drop Green and Blue, and he dug his nails into Green’s arms in his panic. 

“Good catch, Red!” Blue shouted.

“You are so lucky we were able to reach you!” Red said, with a strained voice.

Purple craned his neck back. He couldn’t see well, but he saw Red was holding him by his feet, while Yellow held her by her torso.

Is that the entire village? Purple thought, noticing a long chain of villagers holding Yellow and on to each other. The whole village saved them from certain death.

“Pull us up!” Purple didn’t bother to mask his panic. “Hurry, hurry! I can’t hold them much longer!”

They were quick to heed his warning, pulling them out from the gaping void that called them below. Upon meeting the obsidian stone, Purple plopped face down on its surface, gasping for breath. He did not let go of Green’s arm, even now that Green and Blue were safe.

“Oh, cursors! Are you all okay?” Yellow asked, picking Blue up to her feet.

“Yeah, shaky, but not hurt,” Blue said.

“I’m glad Yellow checked his laptop,” Red helped Green to his feet. “We might not have made it.”

“Thanks for the help,” Green said. As he stood, he lifted Purple to his feet. He looked at Purple, relief without his guarded expression from earlier. “You too. You saved us!”

“Hardly, I couldn’t even lift you,” Purple said, shaking his head.

“Nah, it was good that you grabbed them!” Yellow said, “I think if you didn't, we wouldn’t be able to reach them when they fell.”

That made Purple feel all the more shakier. Because he could see where he did that, leaving them behind...

“Well, now that you’re all here, I wanted to say–”

The dragon let out a bellowing roar, halting any attempts of starting his apology. The dragon was perched around the portal, guarding its egg. The villagers were starting to sweat, ill equipped to handle a dragon.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later,” Blue said, “We need to get everyone else out and the dragon is blocking the way.”

“What do we do?” Yellow asked, pulling out their sword, “You have any plans?”

“We tried steering it away from here and doing some damage,” Green said, “but those crystals heal it.”

“Are you unable to break them?” Red asked.

There was a beat of silence and Green let out a beleaguered sigh. “No, we didn’t even try to break them.”

“Look, our main goal is to leave,” Purple said, “We need to get the dragon distracted and that’s easier said than done with it guarding its egg.” He snapped his fingers, “If we move the egg, then surely the dragon would move out of the way!”

“So, we need to somehow grab the egg and play keep-away long enough for everyone to go back home?” Yellow said.

“Yeah. Yellow and Red, you focus on getting the villagers back in the portal,” Purple said, “Green, you and I will play keep away with the egg, while Blue can take out the crystals with her bow. Does that sound good?”

This wasn’t Purple’s first time sharing a plan of his, but it was after their break up. He really didn’t expect to see the determination and trust in their gazes as they acknowledged his plan.

“I’ll follow your lead,” Green said. 

And, with that, Purple climbed up to a nearby tower while Green and the others waved and distracted the dragon on the ground. Once its head turned, exposing the egg, Purple flew down  to grab at it, only for it to vanish upon contact.

“Wha? Where did it go?”

No one had time to answer him as the dragon knocked Purple across the island. The dragon too was moving about frantically, looking for the disappeared egg. Its large feet and tail made the ground tremble and crushed several endermen in the process. When it found nothing but angry endermen biting its heels, it took up to the sky flapping around and looking down from an aerial view.

“Now’s your opportunity! Go!” Purple called to the villagers, wheezing as he stood up. While Red and Yellow focused on getting the villagers through to the portal, he kept his eyes up at the soaring dragon.

“Found the egg!” Green called.

“Wait, don’t touch it!“

But Green already grabbed it, and the egg ended up teleporting right into the path of a villager and tripping them. The dragon swooped down, its breath swirling in its jaws.

“Nevermind! Touch it! Get it away!” Purple screamed, running towards the egg.

Red was closer and touched it. The egg vanished, but the dragon was already sending out its breath attack. Purple was sure that he would see the villager and Red both burn before him.

Kaboom!

An explosion rang from above and the dragon flinched in pain, changing the course of its attack and narrowly missing Red and the villager. Blue had moved closer to the center, firing down the crystals with quick precision. Every healing beam that exploded caused the dragon to flinch in pain.

“Thanks, Blue!” Purple said, helping Red hustle the villager back in the portal.

“That’s everyone!” Yellow shouted.

“Get in! We’ll follow!” Purple said, shoving Red right in the portal.

Red opened her mouth, about to argue, only to disappear as her leg touched the portal.

“Gah- uh- alright?” Yellow looked from the portal to Purple before following after Red.

Purple turned, seeing Green and Blue surrounded by the dragon’s breath. The dragon had landed before them and was swiping at them with its claws.

No! They won’t be able to dodge for long! Purple thought and looked around for the egg. Luckily, he found it by a pillar further away from Green and Blue. Purple raced next to it and pulled out his bow.

“Hey, ugly!” Purple yelled as he fired an arrow at the dragon. It landed its target and caused the dragon to turn to Purple. It let out a fearsome growl as it saw Purple by its egg and armed with a flint and steel. “Stay away my friends or else the egg gets poached!”

The dragon roared again, charging down at Purple, breath streaming.

“Purple!” Green cried, “No!”

“Run to the portal, you fools! Go!” Purple snapped, turning heel as he ran away from the dragon too. “I’ll see you at my castle!”

He meant it, but he was too slow to run to the portal; the dragon fired its breath and consumed him. The burning stung painfully, but without any armor, death found Purple quickly.

Death in a game was like a blink. There was pain, confusion, the moment where things were still before resuming at a bed like it was all a dream. He hated it, for that moment in between death and respawning, he was in the void of falling petals.

So stupid! He closed his eyes. Did I make the right call?

A petal touched his head, and Purple swore it felt like a hand petting his head.

“Don’t keep your loved ones waiting.”

“Mom?” Purple said, opening his eyes. But he was back in his bed. Items were gone, and so was the pain.

Quickly, he sprung out and raced back to where his portal was. He had to make sure, did Green and Blue make it?

There was a large crowd before him, Red and Yellow towering over them all. Purple craned his neck and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Green and Blue with them.

“You made it!” Purple couldn’t help but smile. “You all made it out!”

Everyone turned around to Purple, silence falling amongst everyone as they stared in shock.  Then, with a burst of speed Green raced up and tackled Purple in a tight hug. Blue, Yellow, and Red joined in, causing everyone to fall on the ground with a thud.

“You're okay! You’re okay!” Blue sobbed.

“Don’t you ever sacrifice yourself like that again!” Green yelled, and sure enough, Purple could feel his tears wiped in his shoulders.

“You absolute mad lad!” Yellow croaked. “You saved everyone from a dragon!”

“Y-yeah, erm,” Purple was overwhelmed by their hugs. “Could you stop crushing me? It might kill me again.”

The pressure was relieved as Purple was pulled to his feet. Their hands didn’t leave him, rubbing his back and arms, as if to assure themselves nothing was wounded or broken.

“That was so scary,” Red said, “Thank goodness for respawns!”

“Yeah,” Purple looked around, seeing his villagers crowding around as well, looking to see if Purple was okay through the stick figures surrounding him.

“To Lord Purple!” A villager exclaimed.

“To Lord Purple!” The chorus of voices joined in.

The warmth in their voices that he thought lost returned. Purple felt like crying himself.

“So, since everyone is here, can we talk?” Purple eyed his villagers. “Alone?”

=

They were in his room. Purple set up some logs for them to sit on. Now that the adrenaline wore off, the atmosphere felt awkward again. Red’s leg was bouncing, and Yellow shifted in their seat nervously. Blue was slumped in her seat, exhausted, while Green was still as stone.

No one looked each other in the eye.

“I guess I’ll start,” Purple said, “I am terrible with apologies, but you guys needed better than me just… walking out.”

He paused, in case any of them had a question. Instead, they watched, quietly awaiting his response.

“I… I want to explain something. I was… jealous of your friendship with Orange,” Purple admitted. It was stilted, finding the words felt like pulling barbed wires from his chest. How it tore his heart. “Yellow told me that they were someone you’ve met before you met me. They were important to you. So when you guys started to hang out with them more often, it felt like I was being ignored.”

Red raised her hand, for once not jumping in like usual. When Purple nodded at her, she asked quietly. “I know I asked this last time, but this is a genuine question: why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“Look, ever since I was a child, I found it hard to make friends,” Purple admitted, “We moved a lot, and I guess I never learned how to? When I had no clue, I tried to be someone others would like: took on their interests, gave them gifts… but, over time, we ended up disagreeing or I messed up– no, I couldn’t keep pretending to be what they wanted, and we fell out.” He looked at them all with an earnest expression. “You four were the first friends that stuck around me for so long. The first time I didn’t feel like I was pretending. 

“But old habits die hard,” Purple said, gulping, “It’s still hard for me to explain how I feel, because I never say it right. Or my friends hate what I say. It’s easier to avoid. Easier to pretend that I didn’t need you when I felt like I was just the replacement, the second best option to your ‘real’ friend.”

“Purple, no…” Blue was wiping tears away.

“I'm sorry.” Purple sniffed. He held his tears back. “You don’t know how much I regretted cutting you out. I feel rotten for blowing up like that, and I still feel jealous of Orange! So I don’t know if we can be friends after that… I don’t know how to fix this…”

He sniffed again, falling silent. He closed his eyes, awaiting his judgment.

“I’m sorry too,” Green said.

“What?” Purple asked.

“I’m sorry too, because it’s not your fault,” Green said, jawing wiggling, “We noticed you were acting off, but we should have asked. We shouldn’t have neglected you when we met up with Orange again. Because you have always been our friend.”

“We missed you so much,” Yellow said. Purple never saw Yellow cry, even now, but his head was low and eyes glimmering. “We realized we took you for granted. The amount of times I had to stop a redstone project because I thought about how I’d like to show it to you… only to realize you wouldn’t even want to see it and didn’t want to see me, us.” He looked up at Purple. “I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder to reach out to you.”

“I’m sorry, too, for our neglect,” Blue said, struggling to speak, “For us blaming you for how you felt rather than working something out.” 

“I’m sorry, we didn’t tell you how much we love you,” Red said, “Because, Purple, even when we thought you didn’t want to see us again, we still loved you.”

“You still… love me?” Purple said. Now the tears were free flowing. 

“Can we still be friends?” Green asked, standing up, “We all want to do better for you.”

Purple was heaving, overwhelmed by sheer relief that he couldn’t speak. 

So he went up and held Green in a hug. He felt the others reach out and hold him too in a much gentler embrace then before.

Purple confessed after a while. “I love you guys too.”

[kaontic]

*Long Post*

*Checks Decepticon emails* Oh, here we go. (¬_¬") 💻

*Reads* You forgot my builtday?! What kind of human slave are you if you can’t even remember this important date? (¬_¬)

*Types back* One that wanted to celebrate their mom’s 55th birthday? 🤨

Yeah. What a shame, right? That she’s gotta share the day she entered this universe with the likes of you. # ⸨◺_◿⸩ #

(Cool fact I guess but still, why? 😭)

Tho I guess I should thank you for remindin’ me, cuz here’s my late builtday present: i’m gonna expose ya once and for all. >:D *Sends*

*Closes* Aaaaaaaaaaaand, I got less than 24 hours left to live, so… :/

You know how everyone always argues about his OG alt mode, that I surprisingly got obsessed with (by reason of insanity bein’ a concept that allows for SO MUCH creativity in a franchise that encourages it via lore + toys), and wanna copy paste everywhere?

Reflector: Yeah. No scrap. Don't say anythi— 📷

Me: *Tosses into chute* Right. Ok— 👏 

Million Shanix question: Why does Megatron, of all TF characters, in his alt mode have to literally put his fate into another’s servos/hands?

Well, that’s the thing.

He doesn’t. (•᷄- •᷅ ;)

It's the same case with Shockwave (who interestingly, I never see anyone criticize despite them both bein' laser guns, but whatever, this ain't about him tonight 🙂‍↔️)

Furthermore, if Megatron can fly in his robot mode, then flying/levitating as a gun shouldn't sound as implausible, right? (ᵕŏᴗŏ)

(I mean it sure does sound funny, but also terrifying, since he can freeze midair, aim with near-perfect accuracy and fire at will)

Oh yeah, and Soundwave's still capable of flight too as a microcassette recorder.

Megatron: Soundwave! WTH!? Come back!

(Ok, at least with him it's just funny. Maybe he can blast [insert appropriate music here] while he's at it)

So knowin' this, why does Megatron still pull this damn stunt, if he's quite capable of doin' it all on his own?

People also wonder why Starscream can't just "accidentally" drop Megs, and then stomp him out like a bug that's not as innocent.

Well, good fraggin’ luck Star, cuz as soon you let him go, he’s gonna go, and if you didn’t wanna let him go, and he wants to go?

He will go.

If you manage to grab hold of his stock, that’s detachable (and the same goes for his silencer), so he's just gonna end up whoopin’ your aft for that with his stock.

But fine, let's say that Megs is on the ground unconscious, and you somehow sneak up on him with heated thrusters via your afterburners.

Still not gonna work, my guy… I think.

(Like look at his face plate here, he knows there’s no point in tossin’ Megs under all those fallin' rocks 😂)

He's a metal cockroach (which is an insult to cockroaches, and for that I apologize), but then again, with the way he takes on damage inconsistently in G1, I don't even fraggin' know guys. (-_-)ゞ

(This bitch survived an explosion powerful enough to move Cybertron, yet panicked over “antimatter” energon)

(He also didn’t give a frag over the same concern in “War of the Dinobots”—)

Um...maybe cuz his alt mode is a denser state to be in, he's more durable and can withstand harder impacts?

My brain: Wait, so shouldn’t he be heavier after all or—?

My heart: Shuddup, it’s science fiction. Enjoy it. We don’t need to get lectured on physics.

Brain: But this is my way of enjoying it—

Heart: SHUSH!

I mean he transformed into his alt mode to save himself when he fell off a cliff in the Marvel comics…and still sustained brain damage. :/

Yeah, we ain't half-battlin' scrap with that info, Duke, and that's why we pick our battles. Wisely.

*Proceeds to list gun mode advantages in no particular order*

Ok, this? This is the creative/fun alt mode s**t I wanna see more of, Hasbro!

You wanna know the reasons/ways in which the alt mode Teletraan I bestowed upon him can be strategic/useful/just plain fun, dammit? (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ 📷❗️

1.

He shouldn’t need to worry about wastin’ the valuable energy he’s savin’ for a fight with Op, since his Seekers can easily fly him to wherever they gotta go in their cockpits (along with the rest of the High Command who also have small alt modes excluding Star, what a coincidence)

Yeah, with the way he tires out during crucial moments in this war (with it bein’ an energy crisis, and oh, the human allies providin’ energy to the Autobots), if he just stayed in his alt mode as much as possible, and continued orderin' everyone around that way, “only the idiots would question” him, as he can put it

In short, the less he can do in order to conserve energy, the more of a chance he’ll have to win for once lol

That indeed means someone else with high-quality optical sensors, who’s committed to the cause, aimin’ and pullin’ the trigger for him

2.

When you’re in a battle, and it’s chaotic as hell, what are your optics gonna draw to? The weapon? Or the enemy that’s holdin’ the weapon?

Oh, most Cybertronian laser weapons come in neutral colors?

Well scrap, good luck spottin’ him

I think it gets even worse when he mass shifts to scale with a human’s hand, as the smaller he gets, the harder it’ll become to locate/hit him as a target. Then you gotta worry about human civilians, and oh boy—

3.

Apparently, all the energy that’s in his barrel ends up bein’ more concentrated, precise and deadly than in his scope (the fusion cannon), which is also detachable

Yeah, a barrel def ain’t fraggin’ detachable lmao

4.

If Starscream starts actin’ up, once again, Megs can just go into a Seeker’s cockpit and conduct business in there

Nova Storm would be a damn good choice too, since if they can survive the chromosphere, it could mean that (in order to get to that layer) they can survive the much hotter corona of the Sun

We're talkin' millions of degrees Fahrenheit/over 200,000 degrees Celsius here, so maybe take advantage of that sometime 😑

Yeah, Star couldn’t any give less of a scrap about other Seekers (or anyone) the same way Megs couldn’t, but neither of ‘em wanna make it that obvious, ya know?

5.

Eh, I guess his alt mode is a good way for him to sharpen his stealth skills

(Obviously it’s not his style, but it’s like swimmin’. Even if you aren’t a fan of pools/the ocean, you should still know how to swim if given the chance, just in case)

Like seein’ a camera, or a microcassette recorder (in the 80s) is normal, even neat, but if there’s one thing you never wanna see, it’s a gun. So humans conceal them

I think that’s a good enough motivator for Megs (who loves a challenge, don cha know?) to finally suck it up and start takin’ that s*** seriously

Cuz idk, if human militaries start armin’ themselves with Cybertronian tech (*sighs* as if nukes weren’t enough), he’s gonna need to know how to hide from humanity’s wrath, just sayin’

Can’t hide a tank as easily no matter how much ya camouflage ‘em (still love that alt mode tho, so triple changer Megs all the fraggin' way y'all)

Oh in that situation, every Decepticon with a large alt mode would be screwed, huh? 😂

6.

He can try and lure a human without an amplified voice in order to… best case scenario have Reflector steal all their MLP merch

Or he can choose to indulge in the art of scarin' the absolute s**t outta people (can't easily sneak up on a human as a giant robot, can ya?)

7.

If Megs is for whatever reason merely incapacitated during a battle, someone can flip him over the same way Prime did in "The Insecticon Syndrome" to transform him—and either hightail it outta there (once again, smaller target to hit), or use him, well, as a goddamn weapon

Trust me, he won't mind

This also works for when he gets drunk and passes out

Cuz gettin' severely injured instead, means that flippin' him over might be too risky, hence why Soundwave carried him in robot mode in the movie (if Megs can't move his limbs, that's a bad sign)

8.

Enemies: So, the rumors are true: your leader really is smaller than a minicon. (Lol he must be weak—) *Continue makin’ a bunch of assumptions*

Skywarp: *Looks around* I give it 20 astroseconds. *Tosses Megs + teleports away*

Enemies: What—? *Get mercilessly demolished cuz they let their guard down/got distracted smh*

Skywarp: *Teleports back* Mmm, 20…3.

*Gets lightly hit in the arm* Ow—

Megatron: You count too fast.

/ Y'all, if Skywarp was a better fighter/gunslinger combined with his teleportation... he would cook fr

9.

Nervous turned super confused new recruit: *Stops bowing* Wait, he’s the gun? The leader of the Decepticons?

Skywarp: *Holding Megs* Mm-hmm. Here, take him.

New recruit: *Stares* That’s Megatron?

Skywarp: Yep, in the metal. Take him. Just don’t shoot yet, got it?

New recruit: Yet? Is that allowed? Can he—? Are you sure, or is this some kind of trick?

Skywarp: Yep, yep and soon, yep—I-I mean no—I mean—

Just say “test” next time. *Stuffs him into their arms + adjusts* There.

New recruit: ( ´･_･`)

Skywarp: Feel different?

New recruit: *Looking down* I don’t understand.

Skywarp: See, that’s the best part: you don’t need to understand anything, just that if you do as he says, and you have good aim, you’ll stay in one piece. Isn’t that great? :D

He needs us just as much as we need him. Simple as that.

New recruit: *Thoughtful + in awe* Yeah… (人´∀`)

I-I’m sorry sir, this is just such a huge honor—

Megatron: Oh no, the honor's all yours.

New recruit: Really? (Oh right—) Sir?

Megatron: Why, of course. You should be commended for making such a wise decision.

Many do not, and for that our planet bears the brunt of their weakness.

New recruit: How many?

Megatron: Don’t worry, they will repent in time, for the fate of Cybertron is in your very servos.

Skywarp: *Ruining it* Well not just your servos, but the many servos of…um…“like-minded individuals”. :D

Megatron: Skywarp.

Skywarp: You’re gonna be fine.

I should go, I’ll just go, you know, with…things to do, and… Peace. *Teleports*

Megatron: We can get things done too, yes?

New recruit: Yessir.

Megatron: *Slips away from their hands + transforms* Good, we'll start now.

New recruit: *Gets led away* O_O

/ Aw, what a nice, smart and humble leader who just wants to save his home planet from all the stupid robots 🥺

Hey, when you get to know him, you’ll realize that he’s actually so down-to-earth, and he'll even literally give himself to you because he cares that much and doesn't want you to be so helpless

He fights and works so hard for everyone and our home, that it's only fair for us to do the same, right? How can he possibly be a bad guy?

Yeah, he can get angry and touchy sometimes, and make costly mistakes sometimes, but he's just stressed, everyone gets stressed

They just don't get it and refuse to even try, and everyone is suffering as a result :(

They're the problem, not us, and they keep getting in our way

Our way is the only way that matters. Their ways are scrap

They. Are. Scrap. And should be treated as such

They should suffer, just as much as they’ve made us suffer

And that, my friends, is how your spark/soul becomes his to handle 😄

(Frag yeah, peace through tyranny! ( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و)

10. Like this. ‘Nuff said

No seriously, ‘nuff said—this post’s long enough as it is. 😅

I know I’ll come up with more gun mode s***, but for now, I’m just gonna arm myself with an eraser and await the death stick.

PS: You know what? Tank mode's funnier.

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 10

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

something borrowed by @rosyredlipstick

In the Solace Wedding Planning agenda, on the fifth page into their summer schedule, there are carefully scrawled out notes reading this: Bride and Groom - Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang Best Man & Maid of Honor - Percy Jackson & Piper McLean Wedding Court - Annabeth Chase & Jason Grace Mellie & Gleeson Hedge Reyna Ramírez-Arellano & Leo Valdez Ring-bearer - Chuck Hedge Flower-boy - Nico di Angelo - Will plans wedding and now, apparently, Nico stars in one. Except...sometimes there's a bit more confusion on that last part. AKA the AU where Will plans weddings and thinks Hazel and Frank are going to have to cutest, gap-toothed ten year throwing flowers down the aisle, all while wondering why this 'Neeks' guy is always hanging around, and what business he has looking that good.

yes i am back on my rosyredlipstick (dude she's GOOD okay). however this one is my favourite i think. this is the kinda story you could use to explain to people what dramatic irony is bc LORD i wanted to SHAKE THEM 😭😭 will falling like deeply in love with nico and being intensely stressed about everything the whole time is so real and on brand. i love him and i love the fond exasperation that just bleeds from this fic its GREAT

2. Rental Love by @rosyredlipstick

*Read Terms & Conditions - Male/22/Long Island N.Y.C. Tired of showing up stag at holiday events? Want your family to stop thinking there’s something wrong with you? Just want some arm candy for a work event? Look no further. Your solution is here! I will attend holiday events with you as your paid date. Accepting all genders as applicants. Email solace.w@fastmail.com if interested. Interview & application will be set up there. - Nico di Angelo has been telling Hazel Levesque about his boyfriend for weeks. The bad part? Nico doesn’t have a boyfriend, the holidays are coming up, and not all of Jason’s ideas are horrible. They’re all a bit surprised about the last one.

THE LEVEL OF STUPID THAT THEY ARE...😭😭 kills me fr. like this whole fic is just a manifestation of truly one of the best tropes of all time…..like what if we took a hallmark movie and made it gay as all hell. iconique indeed

3. A Match in the Making by @coconutcranberries-blog

“You’re a morning person,” Nico muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He ran a hand through his black hair, which stuck up in disarray, the same way it did every morning. He was a mess, and Will Solace looked annoyingly put together, and Nico didn’t even care, really, he didn’t.

friendship is the core of romance!! it is!! every time!!! and it's such a core in this fic....which is fucking??? ten years old??? im just realising?? jesus christ??? anyways. "Nico had the sudden, warm feeling that Will Solace had never bought his act." i YELLED

4. Perception by scorchedtrees

In which everyone thinks Nico and Will are together.

i love this trope i love it SO BAD. both ways. when your love is so obvious that no one misses it.....love to see it truly. and will can have one second of beingn smooth and not a dweeby loser. as a treat

5. the world is brighter than the sun now that you're here by @finalizer

It was hard, Nico eventually concluded, to maintain one’s air of spooky otherworldly detachment with a blinding ray of sunshine trailing one step behind him every minute of every day.

grouchy nico my beloved truly. honestly hes such a bitch i love him like "Seriously, give the guy a perm and a few cats and he’d be that weird aunt that everybody avoided around the holiday season." why does he ALWAYS have something vile to say 😭😭 hes a mood fr

thank you for joining me this saturday friday!! happy reading!!

[hindahoney]

I get a lot of questions about keeping kosher, and I've answered many questions about how to start, tips & tricks, etc, but I've never really discussed shabbat observance. So, if you're someone who is looking to introduce some more observances into your life and keeping some form of shabbat interests you, here's some advice from my own experiences of being a baal teshuva. If anyone wants to add things, feel free.

Obligatory I'm not a rabbi, this is just my experience and things I've picked up from trying to be more observant, and I highly advise speaking to a Rabbi before starting.

First, keeping Shabbat should ideally be a pleasant and relieving experience, not a chore or a burden. Shabbat is truly a gift, and I wish for every Jew that they are able to experience even a little bit of her beauty and serenity in their lives. Shabbat is a wonderful opportunity to elevate a day of the week, and spend it doing things you otherwise would feel you have little to no time for during the other busy days. It is a reminder of what's important: enjoying our lives where they are, being thankful for what we have, and spending it with those that we love. It's an opportunity to be reminded that we don't just exist to work, we are human beings who are here for a short time, and we deserve one day of peace and rest.

That being said, do not attempt every law all at once. You will inevitably get frustrated and quit. Many people who keep shabbat have done it their entire lives, so it's like second nature to them. Don't compare yourself to their level of observance if you're just starting out. I think you should also educate yourself on each of the laws of Shabbat, where they come from and why we observe them.

Start small by eliminating things one by one and lighting candles with the prayer. If you don't have it memorized, there is no shame in writing it down to have it in front of you (If you have a friend who is also interested in increasing their observance, you could go through these things together, or just invite people over for a meal!) You could start the first week by not checking emails, the next by not checking social media or texts, and slowly work your way up to not using your phone. Be sure to inform your friends, family, and if possible your work, that you will be unavailable for this day. Ditching a social media addiction is hard, it's hard to wean yourself off of constantly scrolling looking for a distraction, but it's also freeing to be able to take control again and set boundaries for yourself of when you'll be available to people and when you won't.

In addition to eliminating things, you should add activities that make you feel relaxed and happy. Focusing on your hobby or starting a new one, reading a book or the weekly parsha. Learn some shabbat songs or prayers. While I'm baking challah and preparing for the meal, I like to set the mood by having a playlist on the TV of shabbat songs. I also like to write in a journal before shabbat setting an intention for what I want to accomplish or get out of this week's observance, and once Shabbat is over I will write about what I managed to do, what I didn't manage to do, and ideas for how to make it better in the future.

Also, put tape on your light switches once you feel ready to not use electricity!! It is such a mindless thing that we do, you will turn them on and off unintentionally. Don't forget to do this on the inside of your fridge as well. It may be wise to invest in a shabbat lamp or shabbat counter-top food warmer, or timers for your light switches to avoid some problems in the future. Also, pre-tear toilet paper and paper towels or get a box of tissues, and prepare some food for the next day that doesn't need to be re-heated. It also isn't a bad idea to put a playlist on of shows or youtube videos you've been meaning to watch and keeping it running from before Shabbat, if you want that before you can eliminate it altogether.

I also advise doing something this day of the week that you don't do any other day of the week, to make it feel more special. It could be something small, like using a different tablecloth or your "special" cutlery/dishes, or giving tzedakah. Just something to make it unique from the other days.

Finally, I want to reiterate that you need to be patient with yourself. You will mess things up. You cannot "fail" at Shabbat. If you mess up, don't say "Well, I already did something wrong, I might as well not finish this week's and I'll just do it again next week." Stick with it, even if you mess up. Again, if anyone has tips for others looking to be more observant, feel free to leave them here!

[born-in-hell]

WHY Q!BADBOYHALO IS PROBABLY FED:

SPECIAL GUEST THEORY - THE MASTERPOST

Important Information!

Hello! This post was written in january and febuary, before the workers at Quackity Studios came out with their stories. Ever since then, i haven't been following the QSMP as a server, despite still writing a fic based on it and following the situation with the workers somewhat closely. I just can't care about it as much as i did. Im posting this theory because it meant a lot to me at the time. I truly believed i was right, and that Badboyhalo would be the main antagonist. I even had the throry that the QSMP would end in a dispute between q!Fit (Madagio + The Rebellion) and q!BBH (Fed). I worked for such a long time gathering evidence for, organizing and writing this post that it just feels bad to keep it in. Today (30/4/24), another ex-admin, named Elk, released a statement, that said: "There was an odd rule where main island lore was never allowed to tie into creator-specific lore, despite creators actively wanting to involve themselves with the federation and being permitted to do so and certain creators having a HUGE influence on the overall lore.". This just erased any and all motivations i ever had to make a theory that links everything together. There was never a truly coherent story. Which makes not only this theory, but any and all theories that link the player characters to the main island lore, useless. Being honest, i just didnt want this post to go to waste, mostly because i worked a lot on it. For that, this post is very much not finished. Most texts are not fully written - my ideas are not as developed as i wish they were. And i apologize for this, i just dont have the energy to finish this. If you want to know my take on the QSMP lore, you can check out my fanfic. Despite all this, I hope you all enjoy this.

---------------------------

This is a compilation of all the evidence we have to support the Special Guest Theory.

I created this mainly to show people that don't have as much free time or are just dont have the energy to think about or remember all this why the Special Guest Theory does make sense.

This is a colaborative work, as I wouldnt be able to think about all this without these wonderful people: @lionheartedmusings @demodraws0606 @lxrd-ren @skullhalo @windchime-of-teeth

---------------------------

Where it all started: The ARG Emails

On Feb 21, Quackity Studios posted this tweet, that had an ARG puzzle.

The "special invitation" also grasps my attention, but it might be coincidental wording.

Decyphering the puzzle, it lead to a Google Doc, that had many emails.

Among them, there was this one:

[Respectful greetings, We are seeking quotes for the purchase of 1393 muffins to satisfy the extra demand of our special guest. For those who are not aware of the situation, it was pointed out that it is an obligation to share two muffins per person in the workspace to guarantee happy and productive work. We wish to receive your commercial proposals as soon as possible. We appreciate your commitment and effort in preparing your offers for evaluation. Sincerely,]

So uhm... muffins right? Who could it possiblly be referencing?

I honestly can't think of no one else besides q!Badboyhalo, even outside of the qsmp, whose brand is so intrinsically connected to this little cake things.

The number is also very specific. If every worker needs 2 muffins, why is the order an odd number? That just isn't divisible equally to everyone.

-> I will make a separate post detailing what i think the 1393 could be referencing.

I want to mention here that, by the way this email is written,

q!Badboyhalo's Teaser Post

Ok, so there are a coulple things to pay attention about this post. First the muffins are a clear reference to Bad (there's no arguing here, he is the muffins guy).

Second, where it was posted; unlike all the other cc teasers ─ that were posted on @/quackity4k, quackity's alt twitter account ─ this one was posted on the official Quackity Studios account, along with the arg post that is.

-> These are the other QSMP cc teasers:

Third, its the only teaser thats accompanied by "welcome to the QSMP". All the others either include something related to the cc (like a bird emoji for Jaiden), or teasing words (closer; up next).

Fourth, the milk emoji. Its curious, and out of place. It is so odd and specific that it deserved to be discussed.

Especially considering that, coincidentally, this is what Badboyhalo responded to the QSMP teaser that i'll talk about later:

Milk is often ─ surprisingly ─ a symbol commonly used with villains in media, to symbolize various things, but mostly to cause a discomfort in the audience, as milk is associated with purity and childhood. So pairing it with ruthless and cruel villains creates an unsetteling atmosphere.

-> Some reference links: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4

The Teaser Video

-> click here to watch the video

The video starts off in a dimly lit room, with some boxes, and, most notably, a tv, a vcr player and a chair. A shadowy figure enters the room, and inserts a cassette on the player. A promotional video of Quesadilla Island starts playing. It shows the figure watching the video, and the scene is interrupted by a black screen with "20 years later" written. It ends with two other shadowy figures (Quackity and Slime, presumably) talking in the train that took the first group to our current Quesadilla.

The only thing that we can notice on this person, is a little white marking on both their left and right hand.

Some theorized it could be qFit, but he doesn't have the marking on his right hand.

Right side /// Left side

The only character, from the first group of islanders, who has a white marking on both hands is q!Badboyhalo.

And q!Badboyhalo being part of the fed in 2003 does also make sense in his lore; he's never mentioned where he was or what he was doing around the late 1990's and early 2000's.

Unlike fit, who was 13 in 2003. He was a child ─ he was only a bit older than q!Cellbit during the war.

This is, in my opinion, one of the most substantial evidences we have of q!Badboyhalo being involved in whatever the fed is doing.

The 2013 War

When qCellbit started researching the fed, as a child, he was forcefully exiled from Quesadilla, because he found out too much about what was going on. Maybe the tests on children (q!Baghera and the other deceased hybrids), as he says this on his letter to q!Bagi:

[...] I saw everything inside, they were doing all this beneath our very feet… it’s horrible, Bagi. You don’t deserve this, I don’t want you to have to live with these guys. So meet me on the other side of this ocean Bagi. I’ll be going now, I don’t care if I have to swim until [...]

-> You can check q!Cellbit's old diaries translated into english on this post

He ended up, somehow, in a war, where he, coincidentally, first met q!BBH.

q!Bad has stated he was in the war to overlook it.

Antoine's Comic

This comic was given it was given, from Cucurucho, specifically to q!Badboyhalo.

-> check this twitter clip of antoine's talk with cucurucho to see the full conversation

The Purgatory Puzzle

Codeflippa lead qBBH, qAypierre and qMaximus throughout the maze, into a white room with a red button. Before activating the button, this was shown to them:

-> Could the asterisks mean Badboy? or maybe Mr. Halo?

They pressed the button, and then recieved this book:

Via a warpstone, they were taken to another maze, this one with a puzzle and two pictures of cucurucho.

After going through some rooms, they found a small pillar, with Dapper's hat on top of it, as you can see here:

Why? Why was dapper's hat there?

If this is a foreshadowing to the fact that Dapper would always be the eggs that would be freed from purgatory, independently from the roulette, than why Dapper?

What makes Dapper special, or different from the other kids, that earned him this, and possibly his life?

The group found themselves in a circular room, with three die. These die, coincidentally, had the same colors as q!Badboyhalo and Dapper: black, red and white.

There was a chest, and in it, they recieved this books:

Badboyhalo was shortly after teleported into the middle of the room, so he could play the game.

He thew the die and got a 7.

He then was gifted this ticket:

Again, why q!Badboyhalo? What makes him different?

It can't be him being a demon, since Mouse and Tina were already on the island.

So what makes him so special that, not only theres a full puzzle dedicated to him (as evidenced by Dapper's hat, and qBad being the chosen one for the game), but he's the first person (not counting q!Bagi nor q!Carre) to get a ticket? He's the only islander that had to go through this puzzle to get it, the other ones were just teleported into the room. Not even q!Max or q!Pierre got tickets that day.

[lovingseventeen]

Hello! I've been stalking your blog and I can't explain how much I love your writings, they made my day 🥺 Anyway, if it's okay, can you do svt as your co-worker (could be just platonic/romantic/both, whatever you prefer). Thank you in advance! ✨️

svt as your coworker

a/n: AAAA so sorry to get back to you so late 😭 i hope you still get to read this and enjoy it,, i tried to write this as platonic with the hint of something more?

seungcheol:

○ quite the good employee

○ in his nature to lead group meetings and be pretty proactive in delegating roles that are suitable for everyone

○ always checks in with you that you’re okay with your work load and offers to help too

○ is it relevant that he looks very good with the sleeves of his button-up rolled up?

jeonghan:

○ master of wasting the company time and he somehow drags you into it

○ definitely plays some kind of little game with you every day

○ you both have used up several packs of post-its due to endless rounds of hangman, tic-tac-toe, etc

○ he loves to bet little prizes like “okay so over whoever loses has to buy lunch tomorrow”

○ he loves to waste time but is also somehow occasionally employee of the month???

joshua:

○ definitely the office hunk

○ half the company has a crush on him (how could you blame anyone, look at him)

○ definitely the kind of gentleman to grab coffee for himself but also bring back some extra drinks for those who sit near him too

○ when you try to pay him back he just smiles and brushes off your offer “you don’t need to do that” with the sweetest smile ever

jun:

○ always falls asleep at his desk but also never gets caught

○ is either very productive or doing nothing at all, no in between

○ you have to nudge him awake when you hear that the ceo is walking around the office and you swear your heart skips a beat when he looks at you in his sleepy state

hoshi:

○ one of the company’s long-time employees

○ a funny guy but also super reliable and hardworking so most people tend to look for him for help

○ you call him over to review something on your laptop and he’s leaning on your desk with one arm

○ when you talk to him he watches you intently and you’re wondering why your face suddenly feels hot?

wonwoo:

○ he’s quiet and always finishes his duties efficiently

○ the kind to send one-sentence emails (idk why i thought this seemed very him)

○ he sits across from you and when your eyes meet over your desktops you quickly turn back to your screen (you don’t realize he’s chuckling)

woozi:

○ employee of the month honestly

○ one of the people in the company who moved up the ranks pretty fast and at a pretty young age (he’s younger than most of the people with the same position)

○ he overhears your music playing through your headphones in the elevator one day (some of you will get this reference i hope)

○ “is that [insert obscure band]?” he’ll ask. you lift one side of your headphones to hear him and you nod happily when you realize his question. (from then on he has a little crush on you and he tries to start conversations in the future by asking if you’ve heard about that band’s new release!)

minghao:

○ you were a little intimidated by him at first

○ there’s no other way to describe it other than he looks so effortlessly cool, with his subtle piercings and painted nails amidst his business attire

○ you realize he’s warmer than you think when you work up the courage to compliment his nails

mingyu:

○ he’s employee of the month #2, also a very diligent guy

○ honestly a joyous person to share a desk with

○ “good morning ~~” he’ll say as he settles in for the day

○ from the second he gives you that wolffish grin you know this is gonna be a problem

dokyeom:

○ the kind of sweetheart to stay with you during your overtime so that you aren’t the only person left in the office

○ “you don’t need to stay!” you try to tell him, feeling a little bad you’re stopping someone from going home. he even has his bag all packed up

○ “y/n trust me, it’s a little scary when no one else is here” he assures you, “i stayed here one time and something dropped in one of the cubicles and it freaked me out” (he left out the part that he bolted out of the office when he heard that)

○ you think about it for a bit, opting to just hurry a little bit with your tasks. “okay fine, i’ll try not to take too long”

○ while you work, he even goes so far as to go to one of the vending machines down the hall to get you both a snack

○ bonus: on your way out you playfully go “did you hear that?” and his eyes widen immediately, “hear WHAT?”

seungkwan:

○ would be employee of the month if he didn’t get into arguments with coworkers here and there 😭

○ not a rude employee by any means but he’s just passionate about doing well

○ it is so nice when you get paired to work with him because he motivates you to do so well too

○ the longer you work with him, you do get to see more relaxed sides of him and he even hums a little while he works (soon you discover he’s incredible at singing)

vernon:

○ also doesn’t talk too much, not exactly because he’s busy but he also tends to sit idly sometimes, rotating on his chair to pass time LOL

○ he’s great to work with though, he’s so chill and open-minded that he’ll let you take the lead but also input his ideas when he feels necessary

○ you start talking to him when you come in on a monday, a little excited, “did you see the movie that everyone’s talking about?” you ask

○ his eyebrows raise and he sits up in his chair because he has in fact seen that movie

○ thus ensues emails about work but also with a movie recommendation in the final line

chan:

○ was the baby of the office when he was just an intern but he’s a hard-worker so he eventually got hired full-time

○ you catch him kind of dancing while he’s trying to pick out a vending machine snack

○ gets so embarrassed (he may have a crush on you) that he doesn’t talk to you for a good week 😭

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Remember That Night? Chapter 3/4

Summary: It had been weeks since Aaron left, the only way you kept in touch was through e-mails, until he decided to call. What happens when the note is found and sent to Aaron without your knowledge?

taglist: @ivebeenthearchersstuff @himboelover @zaddyhotch @rousethemouse @pambeasleylover @budugu

The world was quiet while the breeze moved along the shore, pushing the sand through the atmosphere before the water pulled it back into the sea. 

The days had past in a blur, and the only thing getting you through it were the emails that you and Aaron had sent to each other once or twice a week. It had been three months and the weather was beginning to cool down. Everything in you wished you could pull him back in, you wanted to ask him to come back but you didn’t. You wanted to tell him that within a few weeks of him leaving your boyfriend had found the emails on your phone and left you because he knew that you’d never be able to love him like the way you loved Aaron. 

He was really gone, states away, and the thought of him meeting another woman killed you inside. You were in mid fall, and you felt as if you didn’t know anything without him there. He was the only missing piece in your life.

 In one of the email’s he had mentioned how much Jack brought you up and how much he missed you. Apparently he wasn’t doing very well with the transition. He was just a child just starting to make friends at his new school. The many days and nights you had spent with Aaron must have left an imprint on him. The thought of whether or not he met Beth and asked about her made it’s way through your mind but it was just the insecurity eating you inside. 

The sky was beginning to become darker as the evening was arriving. As much as it saddened you to go home to an empty apartment, it was relieving to not have to put on a happy face and act like you were in love with someone who truly, just kept you company. Sure he was attractive but his personality hadn’t matched yours one bit and he constantly kept getting irritated by the fact you were never home and working cases, he didn’t understand. 

Standing up your brushed the remnant of pebbles and sand off your legs and went to drive back home. You’d waste your time sitting and waiting for Aaron for an eternity. No other man peaked your interest in the slightest.

 Walking in the door you realized Emily must have been there. There was food freshly cooked and a note saying she’d be back later. She knew you were struggling and she had been staying with you a few nights a week to be sure you were coping well. It was nice to be able to vent to someone and just to have some sort of life in your apartment. 

 Kicking off your shoes you walked over to your laptop to check your emails, there wasn’t anything important, meaning nothing from Aaron. You sighed to yourself and debated on calling him but you didn’t. Why did he have to leave? Why didn’t you tell him how you felt still? Even if Dave hadn’t of knocked on the door that day, you weren’t sure if you’d even able to form the right words to him. But everything happens for a reason. 

The next few hours you spent reading books, watching television, anything to get your mind off of him. You ended up video-chatting with Spencer, who also asked how you were doing. He was like your little brother on the team and he was more than upset about how Aaron left you. You had told Spencer everything after Aaron left because you knew he would keep your secret, he kept all of them. But was it really a secret anymore? People noticed the change in you after he was gone, hell they had noticed the change in Aaron when he heard you were dating again after he had left Beth.

 Your phone buzzing pulled you out of your book. It was Aaron. When you said “Hello” Emily walked in the door with case files in her hand. “Hey I was wondering if you had time to talk?” 

 “Yeah I have time to talk.” You mouthed to Emily it was Aaron and she nodded, excusing herself to another room giving you privacy. “I’m sorry I haven’t responded to your emails work has had me swamped but I just got home, and Jack is asleep.” The sound of his voice was like music to your ears, it was calm, gentle, and just brought you some sort of unexplainable warmth in your heart. “How’s he adjusting?” 

 “He’s been having some problems, making friends and getting used to it just being the two of us but other than that he’s well. I appreciate you asking.” 

 “Well of course. I’m happy he is adjusting.” You should have been ecstatic that he was adjusting, but the selfishness in you wished that you could be there. Watching Jack while Aaron’s away, cooking dinner for them, cleaning up after them. But there was something eating away at you and it was like Aaron was reading you from states away when he brought it up. “So how’s it going with your boyfriend and work?” 

“Um-“ You didn’t know but Emily was listening on the other side of the wall, crossing her fingers that you would say the truth. “We broke up quite a bit ago, actually.” There was silence on the line and you could just imagine the stunned look on his face. You couldn’t help wonder whether or not he was thinking about you endlessly the way you were about him every single day. A little leap of faith jumped in Aaron’s heart. “Do you mind me asking what happened? You don’t have to if you don’t-“ 

“No, no. I- I need to tell you the truth.” Aaron leaned back in his couch crossing his leg over the other in patience, ready to listen. “The reason I wasn’t there on your last day was because I knew-“ The tears began to flow but you were trying your best to keep your voice steady. Trying everything in you not to get choked up. “Aaron I knew that if I saw you I would just break down because I still love you. I tried to move on and I couldn’t. I was going to put in my two weeks in hope that we could work things out and- and then I heard you put yours in and moving to a whole different state. I wanted to work things out with you.” Emily clutched her first together, so proud of you, now the only thing she was hoping you would bring up was the note that you had left Aaron in the letter and if he read it.

 It was quiet for a moment, you wanted Aaron to say something, anything to ease the pain in your heart and mind. He was eyeing your letter that was laid on the coffee table, he would read it every morning and every night, and frankly it eased him, and was the way he relaxed himself from the tension of the cases.

 The words you spoke to him shattered him inside, he wanted to be there with you. Why couldn’t things be simple? Why did he leave? 

 “I’m not gonna lie to you. I read your letter every night, and just want to hit myself every night for leaving. The reason I haven’t come back is because I thought you were getting over me and I wanted you to be happy even if it meant not with me. Y/N, I still love you too and I wish things turned out differently.”

 “They still can. If you just come home. Please come home.” Hearing you cry, broke him inside. He is causing you pain, and that’s the last thing he ever wanted to do. Should he come back? Inside he knew you were worth him coming back and you were the main reason he had wanted to. Still does want to. He shifted positions once more in settling his head in his free hand as he stared at the letter. “I will think about it, just know any time I receive an e-mail from you or a text or anything, my heart skips a beat. I should have treated you better and I still think you deserve better than me. That’s why I think.... I think I’m going to sit on the decision. I’ll be in touch just know I love you and I miss you, so does Jack of course.” That caused a smile to come across your face.

 As much as you wished he had a straight answer right then and there, you knew it was best for him to sit and think this through and you’d be here waiting. No matter how long it took. You still found it odd he hadn’t brought up the note, yet he was still emailing you and calling you as if he hadn’t seen it. Bidding him goodbye, you talked with Emily for a bit before putting yourself to bed. You needed a good nights sleep for once and to relax and just wait it out. 

 The next morning you woke up well rested and headed into work. There weren’t any notifications from Aaron so he still must be thinking about it. 

When you arrived to work you found yourself wandering into Aaron’s office. Well not really Aaron’s anymore but it had yet to be filled. 

The empty walls surrounded you. You felt the loss now more than ever. Everything was spick and span except for the trash can that hadn’t been emptied. Walking over slowly, your envelope layed a top of it. 

Picking it up you felt a small bump in the bottom corner. That’s when you came to the realization, he hadn’t taken the note. Had he seen it and ignored it?

 Looking up through the blinds you saw Emily and Spencer standing together looking at papers. You had to rush out of that room and tell them and that’s exactly what you did. “Emily! Spence! They looked up from the papers at the urgency of your tone. Your eyes were wide with distress and panic. “He- He didn’t see the note! Or- or he didn’t take it with him! This could change every thing I- Maybe that’s why he’s never said anything! What if-“

“Okay, why don’t we take a breath and sit down for a second.” Spencer dragged over a chair for you to sit down in while Emily tried to calm you down. Spencer’s arm tangled around your shoulders in a comforting manner. “What did it say, specifically?”

 “I mentioned how although i still loved him I thought he should move on and be happy and to not let me hold him back and waste his time. That I would get through this and try to find love elsewhere. That’s it. I don’t want to lose him but I don’t want to be selfish, I’m in love with this man, I mean I truly can’t picture my life without him in it, and it kills me to think of him with another woman but love is just a waiting game and as stupid as it may sound I’d wait an eternity for him. I wish he had never saw my with my ex, because it was all a lie.” Spencer was still on guard about this whole situation because he hated seeing you like this. He eyed Emily as you cried into his shoulder for everyone else to see. In that moment Spencer and Emily knew what they had to do. 

When Spencer spoke to you, he spoke with care, softness, and most of all understanding. “I don’t think you’re stupid.” He settled his head atop of yours. “I think you’re in love and you need closure right now more than ever. Why don’t I drive you home and we can stop and get your favorite food, and Emily and I will stay with you for the night so you don’t overthink. Okay?” You nodded into his chest before he stood up to help you out of the chair and walk you out.

 As Spencer walked you out Emily took hold of the note you left on the desk. She turned to make sure you and Spencer were out of sight before pulling out her phone and tapping on Aaron’s contact.

 Unfolding the note, and trying to make it as neat as possible, she sent the photo to Aaron. 

 It wasn’t until the sunshine peered in through the blinds that Aaron awoke from his sleep. He thought it odd he a had a text message from Emily and not you. It must have been important, opening it he read the following. “Y/N wrote this and put it in the envelope with the letter and I really think you should look at it before you lose her, if you haven’t already.”

 “Aaron I know the connection we have is strong, probably stronger now than ever but. I don’t want to waste yours or my time anymore. I need us to do what’s best. I will look for love elsewhere if that’s what you wish and if you have no response to this letter, I will know that we are finished. Just know you will always have a soft spot in my heart. I love you forever and ever Aaron. What we had is real, I just hope that maybe one day it can be permanent.” Aaron finished reading the note in contempt. 

How did he not see this in the envelope? Does he listen to you and move on? Or does he get his ass back to Virginia and try to win back the love of his life? 

[earlgreytea68]

Many years ago now, when I was a very unhappy and depressed lawyer, I went to see a therapist. The therapist diagnosed that I was suffering from severe levels of stress and asked me to keep a "stress journal": for the week between appointments, I was to write down whenever I felt my stress spike.

When I returned to the next appointment with my stress journal, the therapist was shocked I'd actually done the assignment. He said nobody actually keeps a physical journal. I suspected that maybe he didn't fully understand my personality type and the fact that some of my stress was the result of PEOPLE ASKING ME TO DO THINGS THEY APPARENTLY DIDN'T ACTUALLY WANT ME TO DO BUT I WAS RESPONSIBLY DOING THEM BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I AM.

Anyway, I digress, that's not the point of the story. The point was that when we looked together at my stress journal, we diagnosed that a recurrent source of spiking stress was receiving an email. This was so many years ago that it was before the smartphone, in the age of the BlackBerry, and every time my stupid BlackBerry vibrated, my stress skyrocketed. Having figured that out, the therapist was like, "What happens if you miss an email for an hour?" And that was hard to articulate. Probably nothing, tbh. Like, realistically I could go without checking my email if I was too busy with work, so why couldn't I when I was home watching TV? So the therapist suggested I confine my email checking to a set schedule. Only at the appointed times would I check my email and deal with whatever had come in.

And you know what? The world never ended, and it WAS a huge relief not to feel like I had to immediately be available for every email. To this day, my work email does NOT come to my phone and I only check it at my appointed times of day. (Actually, I resisted getting a smartphone until very late because after I left the law firm I thought the most glorious thing in the world was PEOPLE COULDN'T REACH ME.)

Anyway, I was thinking about all that today because I had a bad day at work and I realized that I was dreading checking my email and it just made me think that I have lingering issues around email. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I was like, ...no, I probably have lingering issues around WORK because of that job experience I had. Like, was it really about what emails I might have, or was it because I spent the day feeling manipulated in an unpleasant way that made me wary and suspicious of certain things around me, and then THAT made me think, like, I was overreacting because of the way that previous job experience was and the fact that the way it manipulated and abused me will never actually fully leave me, but THEN I was like, OR is it that I honed excellent instincts for that kind of situation happening and I should listen to myself when I feel that way, or or or--

Which is all to say that I wonder sometimes how I would have developed as a professional had I not had that career experience so early on in my life. But then I am in a weird way grateful for it, not because it forever kind of messed up my head in some ways but because I learned SO MUCH about those messed-up situations. Like, it was awful, don't get me wrong, but I did learn a bunch of coping mechanisms I still use today. Like limiting my email exposure. And I think I am warier than a lot of other people I know who didn't go through a workplace that mentally abused you the way that mine did, but I'm not so sure that's a terrible thing. I think it makes me touchy about work-life boundaries and i think there are way worse things to be in our capitalist society.

And also, every once in a while I think about the fact that I didn't think I was going to make it through those years but I did and I am pretty proud of myself for that, so also that. I made it through the other side when I honestly for real didn't think that I would, and every once in a while I have a day that reminds me of how I felt all the time back then, and it makes me remember to be grateful how many days I've gotten to have without that feeling.