#rambling and projecting probably but he is so important to me

[asspinkie]

astarion's concern with ascension and losing sunlight is just,, hmm,, something that strikes such a chord in me because he's concerned about his own freedom, yes, but he's also worried about the way this could restrain tav. just one of the ways that the ascension seems so much more beneficial to him, but more importantly (bc he can't put himself first) to tav and their relationship. it just feels like even when he's driven towards power, his motivator has shifted from personal concern to concern for tav. and obviously this isn't the healthiest and truly indicates his low self-esteem. but also tav would die for this man. tav would kill for this man. tav HAS killed for this man. it's not about what experiences astarion can offer tav (sunlight, sex, etc), but about who astarion is, and that he chooses to stay true to himself, regardless of whether tav is on the other side of that. just that trust is so integral to astarion's character. there's something poetic in there.

[wyervan]

would Sun be mad if i fiddled with his hair? Not in a grooming way. . . more like. . .

Would he let me grab a strand and twirl it around my finger?

Mmh! Okay—only if you guys were like, super familiar already. and he liked you. a lot. and he knew your hands were clean. Otherwise, Moonie's the only one he's comfortable with touching his hair. Anyone else tries it, and he’ll be flinching away, making excuses, and inching toward the Lysol.

If all the above is true, he quite likes having his hair played with! Twirling strands, gentle tugs, carding through his mane with your fingers. He’s lids will droop and he’ll get a dopey smile on his face 🥴. Be nearly purring in no time.

[catinasink]

would i bethe asshole if i asked her if mayahps I could have leading lawyer

[telesodalite]

Thinking about Krok and his og squad again...

[arolesbianism]

Ok y'know what I'm going to be cringe and talk abt my nuggets more even tho I assume no one who follows me knows anything abt lob corp lol

Anyways first up look at my second ever nugget, Loki. He and Juliet are extremely close friends and were close since long before lob corp. The two went to college together and both took great interest in lob corp when it popped up, and he and Juliet are both deeply invested in their work there and fully believe in the cause. Loki primarily works with the information team, with him doing a lot of research work early on, and managing a lot of paperwork and general company information as he continued to work there. He and Juliet still interact fairly often as she is a head of the control team, and while they are very friendly with eachother they still very much use their time together seriously. Loki generally comes across as very grumpy and impatient, and he absolutely hates interacting with most of his coworkers. He values his time greatly, and sees most interactions outside of ones required for his work as a waste of time. He still values his time with Juliet greatly though, and while he will get very pissy when Juliet calls him her baby brother, he does indeed see her as a sister, and she might be the only thing he cares abt more than his work.

Next up is my 3rd nugget, London. He's a depressed middle aged woman man who forced himself to stop caring abt those around him after he was forced to give up his baby daughter in his youth. Nowadays he's mostly just trying to get by, and lob corp happened to pay well. He is generally not well liked by basically everyone, with lower ranking employees seeing him as cold and rude, and higher ranking ones seeing him as lazy and annoying. He is however really good at his job, which tends to catch most ppl off guard at first considering how little he seems to care abt everything. Underneath it all he's mostly just extremely depressed and going through the motions, he's just been balancing on thin margins for years now and has gotten the hang of surviving in a world that has been trying to tear him apart for years.

To continue going in chronological order despite my best instincts next we have my girl Yui. She's one of my less developed ones despite her being an oldie, but I still have some ideas for her. She's spent most of her time in the information team, and for most of time at lob corp she's actually had a much less hands on job and got very used to seeing the suffering around her as statistics and numbers. She eventually began to do more abnormality work and was moved to safety, but even as she came face to face with real death more she would still continue to fall back on seeing these events as numbers, and while she does do her best to try to help ppl where she can, she is generally rly distant and hard to connect to a lot of the time, especially as she tends to play devil's advocate for the higher ups, as trying to see the best in everyone won't come across well when those ppl are putting other ppl through hell every day.

Alright everyone we're back to the guy's I actually care abt cheer and clap for my girl Maxy right now. I've already talked abt her a lil bit, but she's another favorite child even though she's an absolute bastard in game who loves to suck at her job. Maxy is a generally very miserable person, with her feeling trapped in her circumstances and hating the feeling of being apathetic to the constant death surrounding her. When she first started working here however, she did have someone she somewhat cared abt. She had a mentor figure of sorts, a fairly anxious woman around her age, but still one that managed to bring some sense of comfort and guidance as she found her footing. Alas tho, this mentor of hers would end up dying on the job (I didn't feel like resetting the day so rip) and that was the beginning of Maxy's endless spiral. Pretty early on she was moved to safety, and she absolutely fucking hates it there, she hates how useless the department feels, and she hates that she feels more hatred at her stupid boss than she feels anything when her coworkers die. London actually used to work in security, and the two actually worked quite closely together for a long time. They had a very strained relationship however, as Maxy slowly began to start giving a shit abt London over time, a fact that she absolutely hated as she could tell London didn't give a shit abt her. Eventually London was transferred to records, and Maxy was left behind in safety to keep being sad all the time. She does have her terrible terrible girlfriend of course, and while Maxy doesn't feel she deserves Yuri's love, Yuri is also the main reason Maxy pushes forward despite everything, as just seeing Yuri smile makes it all feel worth it to her.

Ok ok last one for now because I need to sleep so say hi Daniel. He's another one that doesn't have a lot going on, he was simply a single dad who wanted a good job to support his adopted teenage daughter. He didn't exactly find that, but he does generally like his job. Now he is a leader in the training department, so it's not exactly like he has to deal with the worst of what this place has to offer, so his general complacency makes some amount of sense. He is also generally pretty good at helping out with morale in newer recruits, and he is generally seen as kind if a bit goofy at times. Most of those who've been around longer aren't as moved by his attempts to keep morale up however, as once you've been around long enough it becomes clear as day he's only made it this far out of pure luck. He can't truly help others get to where he is like he tries to because of that, and while part of him is aware of that, he also knows he can't afford to fully admit that to himself.

[cryptidmickle]

hi your amnesiac au has me in SHAMBLES plsplspls im crying sobbing stabbing the floor

im so glad i discovered your blog 😭 your art is so lovely and nice and just. Yes. eats everythibg snd leaves no crumbs /silly

PLEASE i require more info about amnesiac au.

could this happen to the other Beasts? if it can happen to Shadow Milk, it might be possible with the others, should their Ancient counterparts get lucky with their attacks

does Shadow Milk gradually become less of an ass? does he seek answers as to Why he was so awful? does he care at all?

how horrified is he at the revelation that he was such a huge issue for the faeries + PV, if at all? he already doesn't know much about himself, so would not knowing he was such a problem, such an awful person, terrify him, considering he doesn't remember any of this?

idk. i personally would be so so incredibly horrified and terrified that i was so terrible and..well, monstrous, if i may. i kinda project onto Shadow Milk im ngl so that's probably why im saying any of this

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG im just so,,, AAAUAGTHYBHLRHTLBFLTTKG /POS abt this entire au. hoenstly it inspires me; both your art and your ideas and concepts

hope you have a good day!! stay safe /gen

SOBS IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THIS AU!!! i read all the tags on my posts btw so if any of u went crazy in there i saw it and went crazy w u. im deranged and mentally ill if u cant tell.

i would say the cracking of the souljam and loss of power is very possible for the other beasts! the amnesia however is a Very special case of pure vanilla fucking up the spell he cast

the other beasts would be depowered and much weaker, but retain their memories...... actually, would their corruption break as well since the souljam disconnected entirely from them? hm, i think redemption would be more possible if an ancient got a lucky shot, in that case

shadow milk does in fact become less of a jerk! what with no longer being secluded in a spire losing his mind and sense of identity all by himself, his personality is forced to become. eh. LESS THORNY.

pure vanilla is socializing him like a dog and he is NOT enjoying it. but i am. put that guy in situations.

shadow milk does in fact seek answers to why he did so many terrible things! he knows his... current personality isn't the greatest, but he can't imagine doing some of the things described

he feels a certain disconnect to the him others describe terrorizing them to the him of present, while he feels bad for what happened to them he doesn't really feel apologetic because was it really him? how's he supposed to know?

should he feel sorry because it technically was him, just.. evil? would that excuse it if he doesn't feel sorry at all?

this is where shadow milk and white lily have similar dilemmas because they both have previously done terrible things to others, especially pure vanilla. they feel bad about it, they dont wanna hurt him or others like that ever again

but then this is where they separate because shadow milk doesn't feel at fault, he doesn't remember doing all those things, he doesn't even know who that was! you want me to grovel forever about it? pathetic, what's done is done anyways, why not try to do something now?

white lily absolutely despises that mindset as she's competing with pv over who can hate themselves more, and she is winning. she thinks they both deserve to repent forever for their crimes but is constantly reminded of the fact that she remembers but shadow milk doesn't! she knows what she did, why she did it, it was bad and terrible, but she understands and that's what's important and she must repent for it

shadow milk doesn't know, he doesn't know anything at all and theres even more that they can't tell him as he's apparently been evil for centuries. it's hard to argue that he needs to feel bad when the personalities are truly separated.

......i went on a ramble again.

he doesn't feel bad about what he did but he is in fact, very unnerved that he may be capable of those actions again, and with pure vanilla trying to teach him to be good and kind its...... panic inducing sometimes, that maybe he can do something terrible again, that the evil is possibly just lurking under the surface and hes fooling himself and everyone around him

[upon-sunflower-trails]

hunger hurts but starving works (when it costs too much to love)

viktor x reader | oneshot | 4178 words

slowburn, yearning, angst with a happy ending

warnings: one brief mention of reader wearing a skirt

You hadn't attended the Academy for long before you met Viktor. You wanted to further the technological advancements of Piltover through what knowledge you already had but always sought to learn more. It was what was expected of you. 

You kept to yourself, focusing solely on your work and not much else. 

Viktor was the same way. The two of you had to be top of all of your classes, the way you committed yourselves to your work. It only made sense that you would be partnered up for your final project in one of Heimerdinger's classes. 

It started with simple meetings in the library to discuss what direction you wanted to take the project. 

You doodled on your notes, humming to yourself. You were usually so much more studious than this, but a less-than-ideal week had you in a slump where all you could wish for was finishing the rest of the week under your duvet. 

Viktor narrowed his eyes, much to your discomfort. You knew he was probably writing you off as spacey, incapable. The anxiety clawed at your throat as he spoke. 

"You seem distracted." 

It was the most he'd said to you outside of the classroom, and of course it had to be negative. You felt your cheeks warm as you huffed, setting down your pencil. 

"It's... I'm okay, just..." You struggled to find the words. You hadn't meant for your burnout to carry over into such an important project, let alone one where somebody else was relying on you. You knew you could finish your work on your own time, but he didn't know that— he didn't know anything about you. 

He waved off your attempt. "It's fine." He was back to scribbling away on the paper, though you could still feel his judgment. 

In his presence, your mouth moved before your brain could. You blurted out the very thing that had been on your mind all week. 

"You know, this wasn't always my dream." 

Your voice came out hushed, unsure, as if saying the words aloud would get you into some sort of trouble. The boy from across the table's writing ceased, perking up even as his eyes stayed trained on the page in front of him. 

"... Go on," he urged. This was the first time either of you had a real conversation, and his tone caused warmth to spread through you. 

You straightened up in your seat, adjusting your skirt from beneath the table. "I... I wanted to be an artist, for the longest time," Your fingers traced the indents in the wooden table as you spoke. "To paint the beauty life had to offer me, mold clay into the things I loved the most, sketch people who came in and out of my life." 

Your tone was somber as you watched the shapes your fingertips drew into the surface. Viktor turned his attention from his work to you now, brow quirked upwards. 

"Yet you're here, studying sciences and technology?" His words were careful as he sized you up, causing you to let out a dry chuckle. 

"I know, it makes no sense when I put it that way. But... sometimes you have to give up certain passions to fulfill what you need to become." You chewed on the inside of your cheek, finally picking your pen back up as you finished your ramble. As you met the golden eyes of the boy across from you, you suddenly felt small under his gaze. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, fidgeting with the pen in your grasp. "Ah, anyways, I'll get back to work on my half of the project." 

Viktor shook his head, giving you a small smile. It struck you then that you had never seen him genuinely smile before. "It's ok. I like hearing you talk." 

The awkward silences of your meetings eventually gave way to comfortable chatter, and both of you finished the project earlier than expected. Even then, you still found excuses to be in the other's company. Whether it was grabbing a quick bite to eat after Viktor had neglected to eat a meal that day or working quietly on individual projects, simply happy to be near each other. 

That was how your friendship with Viktor began.  

The two of you only grew closer, discussing every and any topic you could think of until one of you decided the other needed rest. You didn’t go a day without talking to him, until eventually he was a research assistant, and you were on your way to becoming a somewhat-known technological researcher at the Academy.  

When Viktor met Jayce and vouched for him, you immediately supported their endeavors. There weren’t many topics that brought such a light to Viktor’s eye, so seeing the way his passion ignited over simple meetings with the man was enough to convince you. 

You would bring them food when they had been working for hours with no break, slipping an extra baked good to Viktor when you thought Jayce wasn’t looking. When you finally went on your own way with a smile, Jayce sent his colleague a knowing look. 

Focusing on your own work was growing easier, as you found yourself living vicariously through the two men you had grown so much closer to. Their passion was enough to ignite your own, and you became more and more renowned by your peers. Living became easier with Viktor at your side, as the two of you would go out for lunch together every now and again, with Jayce always insisting he had “too much work to do.” 

You did your best to ignore your little crush on Viktor. You had always admired him, how could you not? But you knew better than anyone that it was much more than admiration. He would come to your home on days he knew you weren’t feeling yourself, comforting you with just his presence.  

Those feelings were pushed aside as best as you knew how. It was just a silly crush; Viktor was just a close friend, after all. He was so hard at work anyways, there was really no use in chasing after him or ever hoping for more. 

Even with Jayce constantly teasing you when Viktor left the room for a moment, you pushed down whatever feelings you had for the boy. It was just a simple schoolgirl crush. You would get over it, and Viktor would continue to achieve success with whatever he and Jayce had been working on. 

You'd been startled awake at your desk one night, dozing off while in the middle of researching a new method of transcribing information in Piltover, using a newly developed piece of technology that you couldn't quite remember the name of. Hair pooling out around your head resting against the desk, you were jolted from sleep as the door to your room was flung open. 

An exclamation of your name from a familiar voice was enough for you to whirl around in your seat. Viktor stood there, beaming brightly as he leaned against the doorway. 

"We've done it." 

“Viktor! Jayce,” you called, hugging both men tightly as you raced over to where they stood. Jayce gaped at you, wide smile on his face. 

“You made it? I thought that-” 

“You had a presentation to give on your newest findings,” Viktor finished, looking at you with a raised brow. Despite his concern, you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile. 

Waving off their concerns, you beamed. “You didn’t think I’d miss your big moment, did I?” Your gaze lingered on Viktor for a moment longer before Jayce was called to the stage. In seven years, you still held the same admiration for the man. 

“I’m proud of you, Viktor.” You smiled at him, cheeks heating up slightly as he sent a smirk your way. 

“Jayce is the one who’s out there giving the speech, making this possible for both of us. You should save the congratulatory statements for when he gets off stage.” 

You scoffed at his words. “I’m being serious. I know how much this means to you in particular. I’m really, really happy for you.” 

He had only given you a short ‘thank you’ before you moved into the crowd, hoping to listen to the speech in its entirety. You weren’t sure exactly how Jayce’s speech was supposed to go, but you could tell something was off—especially if the way Viktor reacted when you congratulated the both of them afterwards was anything to go off. You did your best to ignore whatever animosity was lingering between the two as you went on your way, rushing back to where your presentation was taking place.  

You didn’t need the men to know that you’d had to delay your own moment just to be there to witness theirs. 

It was after that night, as you mulled over the way your heart had fluttered when you embraced Viktor, the way your day brightened noticeably more with him around even after all these years, that you came to the realization that you were in love with him. 

When he invited you out the next day to lunch, you found yourself unable to focus even as he lightly ranted to you about his problems with Jayce. 

“...Y/N? Are you listening?” 

His voice cut into your thoughts as your head snapped up, looking at him with wide eyes as you stopped stirring your drink. 

“Uh, yeah... Yeah, of course I am, Viktor.” 

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You really are always so easily distracted.” The smile he gave you made your heart soar as you laughed. 

You pushed your feelings aside for one more day as he rambled on, confiding in you. You could’ve painted a thousand pictures just from the way that look in his eyes made you feel. 

The rest of the day was spent on your own as you worked endlessly on research and trials, allowing yourself only a brief respite when you took short breaks to eat. You worked through the night, only stopping when you got news of what had happened. 

You were the first one to know when Viktor had collapsed. You’d dropped everything and rushed to his side, tears pricking at your eyes when you finally saw the state he was in. 

Doctors, nurses, really anybody who came in and out of the room, spoke in hushed tones while glancing at you. It wasn’t until they confirmed you were who they thought that they finally indulged in Viktor’s state with you. 

You’d held your tongue, nodding along with their words while your eyes flitted over to the man you loved, lying comatose on a cot. You slept in the uncomfortable hospital chair, jerking awake every time hospital staff entered and exited the room. Jayce joined you eventually, sending a sympathetic glance your way. 

When Viktor finally stirred, he only quietly asked you how much time he had left. You hadn’t been able to answer, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you did your best to quell your tears. 

You stayed with him most of the time, not wanting to leave his side for the duration of his stay. You knew he could take care of himself, advocate for himself, but you were afraid. Afraid of what might happen if you left him alone, frightened that if you dared to leave you would get the news that he had passed.  

He insisted on you holding his hand in yours as he slept, believing that your touch would be what kept him from slipping away while he was sleeping. 

You obeyed. 

But you weren’t sure how to handle it in any semblance of a platonic way. 

You were there when he was finally cleared to leave, as he clung to you like a lifeline once the both of you left. For as long as you’d known him, you’d never seen him look so defeated. Even once you took him home, helping him get settled back in.  

You almost wanted him to beg you to stay, insist on staying however many nights he needed, but you knew that wouldn’t be good for either of you. 

Viktor suggested stargazing with you once he was discharged from the hospital. Even though he needed your help after stumbling, a steady hand on the small of his back as you climbed to the hill you’d went to think many times throughout your time as an Academy student. 

The two of you sat there in silence for a long while, shoulders touching. You hugged your knees to your chest as you took in the stars decorating the sky. It took everything in your power not to stare at the man next to you. 

“I used to stare at the stars as a child constantly.” 

Viktor’s voice finally put an end to the silence. You looked at him now, tilting your head. 

“What?” 

“In Zaun, I would look out at the sky every night and count the stars. I thought about how the night sky in Zaun was the same night sky over Piltover. And yet...” He swallowed thickly, still glaring at the sky. 

You could sense the bitterness in his voice as he tensed up—you knew what he meant. Experimentally, you wrapped an arm around him. His tension eased ever so slightly at your touch. 

“I only want to make things better. For everyone.” You winced at just how quiet his voice had become. “Even if I... don’t have much longer.” 

You pulled him closer to your side, shaking your head. “Viktor, you’ve already done so much. I know you don’t feel you should be proud of yourself, but...” Trailing off, you instead focused on the proximity of you both while looking at the constellations in the sky. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Truly.” 

Another pause, filled with all the things left unsaid between the two of you over seven years. You interrupted the quiet this time. 

“I’ve always wondered how it would feel to burn out as a star.” 

It was the man’s turn to be perplexed by you now. He let out an incredulous laugh, shifting towards you. “Whatever do you mean?” 

Picking at the grass beneath you, you huffed out a sigh. “How it would feel to finally use up every last bit of energy you have, until all the light you have stops shining. Sometimes...” You shook your head, opening your mouth to continue. “No, it’s-” 

Viktor nudged you with his shoulder, cutting you off. “Don’t say it’s stupid. Even your ramblings have value. I want to hear it.” 

There was no point in arguing, then. You steadied the rapid pace of your heart as you began to speak, ignoring the heat rising to your face. 

“... Sometimes, I wonder if burning out as a star would be easier than continuing to work myself to the bone as I am now. If all the pressure I feel now could mix with the heat and push me past the point of burning brightly, so I could flicker and collapse instead.” 

Viktor intertwined his fingers with yours as you spoke, gaze trained intently on your face. You tried to ignore the way it was making you feel. 

“If you ever tire of being a dying star, think of yourself as a supernova instead.” He gave you a small smile. “A star burning out sounds more final. Saying you wish to be a supernova is much better.” 

You both chuckled at his suggestion as Viktor squeezed your hand just a bit tighter. 

He moved to face you, whetting his lips as he opened his mouth, as if to speak, before quickly stopping himself. He leaned in, just by a hair, and your heart jumped. You panicked, and in that moment, you quickly scrambled to hug him. 

Silence enveloped the moment yet again, but it was more comfortable this time. You cherished the moment, deciding not to move away from the embrace just yet, but also neglecting to comment on it. 

A fail to kiss is a fail to cope. 

After that night, you didn’t hear from Viktor for a while—even though you had caught him with flushed cheeks, eyes darting down to your lips as he struggled to focus on gazing at just the stars. You did your best to convince yourself that he was busy. That he wasn’t pushing you away on purpose, running away because he’d figured out your feelings. 

And when ash rained down upon the majority of Piltover, your mind immediately went to Viktor. Hearing about the attack, in the building you knew he was in, caused you to spiral. There were already so many confirmed deaths, you couldn’t bear to think that he was one of them. Jayce was the one to console you through your sobbing before explaining how he had a plan. 

Jayce had found a way to save Viktor. Or, at least, prolong the inevitable. 

Jayce had called you to the lab in the middle of the day, meaning that you expected the worst. That Viktor could no longer hold on. You were put off by the uncharacteristic silence of the lab, Jayce leaned against the desk with his head in his hands. 

“Jayce?” You were almost afraid to speak, not wanting to hear the news you’ve dreaded since Viktor first lost consciousness after Jayce was put on the Council. Thinking of Viktor’s life being cut short before he could accomplish all he wanted, before you could ever tell him all that he meant to you, it was a sickening reality you didn’t want to face. He had been your closest friend for seven years, and now he could be taken from you over circumstances neither of you could control. 

The larger man looked at you. “Y/N...” he sucked in a breath. “Viktor, he left.” You scoffed at his words.  

“He left? He was on the verge of death just last night, and now you’re telling me that he woke up and left everything?” Jayce’s brows only stayed furrowed, and you knew he was being deathly serious as he explained the situation. The tension, the events leading up to the explosion, what Viktor had said to Jayce before he left. You stood there the entire time, nails digging into your palms in little crescents. 

You had to fight the tears back as you pressed Jayce further for answers. “He didn’t say where he was going?”  

“No.” 

“He didn’t tell you if he was coming back?” 

“Y/N, I don’t think he’s coming back.” 

A drawn-out, pregnant pause. Your breathing came out trembling, same as your body. 

“... He didn’t even say goodbye.” 

Your voice was barely audible, wobbly as the tears you had been holding in since the beginning of this encounter finally spilled. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, and you weren’t sure exactly when Jayce had comfortingly pulled you into a hug as he began to cry himself. All you knew was that when you finally pulled away, the sky had bled into orange and red, and you had work to attend to before leaving for the night. You turned on your heel to leave before Jayce spoke again. 

“Y/N.” You barely turned back, giving him enough acknowledgement to continue. “I’m going to fix this.” 

You nodded, finally leaving the lab. Your heart sat heavy in your chest, feeling as though it was weighing you down the entire walk back to your own home. You didn’t even want to go back there, not with all the memories it seemed to hold. It had been where you and Viktor celebrated your graduation from the Academy, where you would both spend countless hours bouncing ideas off each other, where he would rest after a long day as you cooked his favorite meal as a child (something he’d confided in you shortly after you had first met). 

You couldn’t go home, not right now at least.  

The cobbled road you walked every night seemed even more desolate than usual. Your feet dragged you to the one place you could think of going. You didn’t want to feel the pain of losing Viktor anymore, thinking of what could have been or why he left you without so much as a curt goodbye. 

So, you let the soft tickle of the grass beneath you consume your senses as you stared up at the empty night sky. No gleaming lights, you couldn’t even see the moon at this point. Even in all of its emptiness, you knew it was the same sky that connected you to him. All you needed was one star—to prove that you could continue hoping.  

You found nothing. 

The chill in the air was biting, a harsh reminder of the fact you no longer had Viktor with you. No one to ponder the origins of constellations with, to lean closer to when you dramatically whispered whatever gossip you had heard around the Academy that day, to warm up when he shivered despite wearing layers of clothing. 

Much like the night sky, you were empty. 

Word had spread about some sort of messiah appearing, gathering a large following in a short span of time. Your interest was piqued, as the thought of someone healing such ailments made you think of him. If you could enter the commune, perhaps speak to some people about the miracles being performed, you could find him and take him there. 

Yet as you stepped into the commune, assuring those at the front of the oasis that you had nothing of danger on your person, a wave of familiarity washed over you. 

It was beautiful, that you couldn’t deny. It was the sort of place you would never have wanted to leave, had it not been for the mission you were on. You chatted idly with residents of the commune, listening as they spoke so highly of their herald. 

It wasn’t until you saw him, glassy eyes meeting your own, that the dam burst, and you felt all the emotions you’d felt when you were twenty-five bubbling back to the surface. 

You weren’t sure how you ended up in his arms from across the expanse of land, sobbing into his chest as he held you. It felt right, even as words you couldn’t hear nor understand fell from your lips as Viktor’s grip on you only tightened. 

When you finally calmed down, he pulled you into the place he resided and explained everything. You only understood some of what he was saying, still blinded by relief that he was here, he was real, he was alive. 

Viktor had changed noticeably, not that you cared. He looked more beautiful than ever, which you admitted to him breathlessly when you were both finally away from prying eyes. He had only chuckled at your compliment, spouting off something about what he’d learned in his time away.  

When an uncomfortable moment of silence finally passed, you were the first to jump at the opportunity to tell Viktor all the things you were afraid you would never get to tell him. 

“I’m in love with you.” His eyes flickered with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint, throat bobbing as he took in your words. 

“... I am... not the same person you once knew.” 

“I don’t care. I never cared, it’s not about your condition or whatever afflictions you have. I held back for so long, because I was afraid. I convinced myself that I would ruin any of your chances of success by simply confessing my feelings for you. I’ve been waiting for seven years; I’m not waiting any longer.” 

A small, imperceptible smile etched onto his features as he moved to take you in his arms again. He rested his forehead against yours, hands settling comfortably on your hips. 

“Your patience is admirable, really.” 

And he finally kissed you, a slow, passionate combination of desperation and relief, his resolve slipping for a moment as he grabbed at whatever he could take. You didn’t mind, you only further offered yourself up. Once you both parted, it was as if the world was shining just a little brighter. 

“Let me promise myself to you, here and now, to make up for lost time,” he pleaded, eyes glossy as he stared into yours. “I just have to warn you, that I’ve... truly changed.” 

“No matter how you’ve changed, you still live under the same night sky as you always have,” you muttered, brushing a strand of hair from his face. He had so much to show you, to tell you about. He had seven years and an eternity to make up for, after all. 

He was finally letting you into his life, with no barriers or inhibitions. Eternally intertwining both of your futures, without fear of ruined success or what could have been. He held out his hand, a symbol of the promise he had made. 

Wordlessly, you took it. You knew you would have to be a fool to deny him now. 

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[farshootergotme]

Now that I have the confidence to send you asks, fully expect me to bug you periodically from here on out

Anyways- do you think Dick qualifies as a scapegoat? Cause I 100% think he's a scapegoat. People always try to shove the 'golden child' role onto Dick, and it always confused me cause like. He doesn't fit it at all if you actually look into what a golden child is.

Dick is definitely one of the scapegoats of the batfamily (Jason being the other) and it makes me sad that people always label him a golden child when he's the exact opposite. Seriously- he's hit, beaten, unfairly blamed, lashed out at, not told about important things (Jason or being replaced, Jason dying, Jason's funeral, probably other things, i wouldn't be surprised), etc. Definition of a scapegoat to me.

It's also why I hesitate to label him the 'favorite' even when the comics try to say otherwise. Mostly because... favorite children aren't really treated this way. Favorite weapon, maybe, as I've said in a post I've made before, but that's it. Bruce wouldn't kill for him or any of his kids. He's come close, yeah, but he's also come close to killing the Joker too after Jason's death and had to be threatened into not doing it. Every time, it's in a strong surge of emotion, and the second Bruce thinks rationally- well, he doesn't do it. Dick isn't at all unique, Bruce wouldn't kill for him either.

I think Bruce is the most proud of Dick, and has a unique relationship with him due to knowing him the longest and the parentification, but I don't think that makes him the favorite. Maybe to the other batkids, but probably not in reality.

I don't think Bruce really HAS a favorite- Dick is probably the closest to it, but still.

Though, if you wanna play around with angst and fanon ideas, maybe both Dick and Jason are the favorites and that's why Bruce treats them the worst? Dunno, it'd make a fun fic, even if it's not really grounded in canon (though I ignore RHATO and Comic UTRH).

Idk. Just,, gestures. Dick is a scapegoat to me.

Hope my 2 am rambling made sense lol

Okay, I see you, but I'll argue:

Dick Grayson is both the scapegoat and the golden child.

Now, you might not believe this since he doesn't tend to be both at the same time, and it isn't common for these roles to exist within the same individual. But Dick Grayson is praised and favored as much as he's blamed and pushed.

A golden child is the one who carries most of the expectations in the family. The parent expects them to be perfect, make no mistakes, take on roles they're pushed into with no issue (thus parentification can happen), and continue on and on to be good enough and meet the criteria so they don't make the parent disappointed.

The love is conditional hence they develop this unhealthy perfectionism and self-esteem and self-worth issues that will follow them till adulthood even when they're out of that environment and living their own lives.

The reason why a parent might choose a specific child (or children) to be the favored one is because they tend to see this child as an extension of themselves. And consequential to this, they will project their insecurities onto said child and force them to improve—be the best—where they fall short. All of their capabilities are overvalued, making the parent see them as special and much better than the rest, causing the unrealistic expectations a child must hold and fulfill so as not to “fail” their parent(s).

Although this child might seem like the favorite and who could do no wrong on the outside, the love they receive isn't something they can take for granted.

When a golden child underperforms or isn't as good as they're expected, the parent’s demeanor might change. They will feel the disappointment and fear this might cause the treatment they get to change. Sometimes the child might even fear abandonment or rejection from their parent as a result of their failures.

The mix of all this turns into a person who's over-competent, hard-working and someone that tends to take charge of things so they aren't at risk of failing, making them ‘natural’ leaders in any group they might be part of.

Sounding familiar yet?

Now, let's move on to the scapegoat:

A scapegoat child is the one that is blamed by all the things that go wrong in the family. They are constantly criticized and shamed by things they might've not even been part of, but somehow they're now involved and taking all the blame for the others so there are no consequences for anyone but them.

(All the blame also messes with their perception of certain events, making them prone to self-blame for the problems that occur in the family or their behaviors towards them.)

The scapegoating in the family may be due to subconscious projection from the parent when they're dealing with difficult emotions such as shame, guilt, rage, etc. They feel threatened by their own feelings and therefore they will try to escape from them by externalizing those feelings and making them their scapegoat’s problem.

Because of this treatment, the scapegoat might become an outsider in the family, feeling excluded and isolated from the rest. And for this, when push comes to shove and they're going through a rough patch, they will not have any reliable support they can go to inside the family as they'll be ignored or otherwise unfairly treated, having their feelings be invalidated.

Like the golden child, there's some aspects the scapegoat shares with the former:

Being treated differently by the parent/family.

Having unrealistic expectations placed upon them.

Being pushed into roles or responsibilities the child isn't meant to take.

Fear of expressing how they feel.

Self-worth issues and low self-esteem.

Although they're usually roles that are considered opposites, they aren't as incompatible as one might think. A child can alternate between being a scapegoat or the golden child, and this usually happens when the parent is very emotionally unstable, commonly due to a disorder such as narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) or borderline personality disorder (BPD).

(I have so many thoughts about the latter applying to Bruce, but I will refrain from elaborating to not make this longer than it needs to be)

Having all I've said until now in consideration, I'm sure you've noticed how Dick meets both criterias—dare I say the golden child more often than the scapegoat.

Bruce is always speaking about how Dick is “better than him” and “the thing he's ever done right”, but in both of these statements you can see he's taking who Dick is and making it as something that's part of him, comparing Dick's accomplishments to his and putting him in this pedestal, and because of this projection happens and Bruce starts seeing Dick as an extension of himself.

This is why, when he or Dick fail, Dick will suddenly become the scapegoat, contrasting with the former golden child position he was in.

Here you can see the high expectations, praise for his accomplishments, his siblings feeling like Dick is better than them (i.e. treated differently than the rest), and you can also see how when he doesn't meet the expectations, he's met with disappointment (see: Alfred disappointed he's not as bright as he usually is) or judgment (see: Bruce angry at him because he isn't committing to his cause as much as he expects him to).

And these are examples of Bruce being too harsh on Dick and expecting him to do better, blaming him for his brother's death, and in result Dick having a habit of blaming himself and accepting mistreatment, thinking it must be his fault.

More often than not, Dick is put on a pedestal by his family and even his friends sometimes. They praise and love him, but when there's occasions in which he's acting less than perfect, the treatment towards him can change.

Dick Grayson can be the golden child as much as he can be the scapegoat.

[dancingbabya-notes]

Their name for you

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

Your partner didn’t always call you by the nickname he has for you now, but there was a reason that he started referring to you that way.

Characters: Togata Mirio, Amajiki Tamaki, Shinso Hitoshi, Bakugo Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kaminari Denki, Kirishima Eijiro, Shoji Mezo, Todoroki Shoto

!!!this version is fixed and has the rest of todoroki's part!!!

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•→

Mirio

You simply shook the snow that was covering your wings and quickly melted sending a terrible chill up your spine. “Fuck it’s freezing.”

“Oh, come on L/N, it’s not that cold.” Yuyu laughs as she throws another snowball at your back.

Squeaking when the snow slides down your skin between your wings. “Yuyu!” Your quirk picked up making the immediate section around you colder.

Suddenly someone’s hands were on your shoulders. “Now Birdy, calm down a little bit. If you’re cold I can just keep your warm.”

You nearly shoved your classmate away with your wings, but the bandage that was holding two of the four in splints prevented that. “Mirio, I’d beat you if I could.”

“Awe come on Sunshine, don’t pout.”

Sighing a bit, you lean back into his hold. “Fuck off.”

“That’s my Birdy.”

You quirked a brow. “You know if anyone, but you called me birdy I’d probably get suspended.”

Feeling his chest as he hums you roll your eyes before continuing the walk to class.

Amajiki

“Y/N.” you whip around completely forgetting where you were and the pile of fabric that your classmates had stacked on your head to see how much weight could be put on your head before you stopped working-- which was a lot more than they thought so they stopped mid-way.

Your body teetered as you tried to adjust it, so you sat properly-- not a poor example of a shrimp while you were working on your projects-- and you also fell backward because a lot of the fabric was still attached to the bolts. Before you could fall back into the precariously placed bag of sewing supplies, arms pulled you up, so you were at least on the tips of your feet as Amajiki kept you from sustaining further injury than was allowed.

“Sorry Amajiki,” you chuckle a little bit glancing at the mess behind you. “Damn I could have sworn I told them to clean up everything after they were done.”

“Are you okay Lovely?” His face was red, and he would probably pass out if he didn’t calm down soon.

“Yes, I’m fine, but why the nick name all of a sudden?” you chuckle making sure you had a clear space to stand.

You could just see his head practically burning up from how red he was getting. “ I- I

Smiling, you give him a quick hug. “I like it, Tamaki.”

He stood there for a moment before pulling his tall form into a ball on the ground, incoherent rambling comes out, but you did hear a mention of your name and how he thought lovely suited you which made your ears burn as you tried to busy yourself with cleaning up the mess.

Shinso

He could have been stereotypical and called you “Kitten” or “kitty” but no. You didn’t remember a cat in his eyes, and no matter how much he argued that he was a cat person, your personality was not cat like.

“Puppy, are we out of the cat treats again?” Hitoshi asked one day while you were busy cleaning the bathroom.

You nearly took out the tub spout with the speed with which your head came up, recoiling from impact you fell face first into the cloth you were using to clean the tub. There was no worry about chemical burn you were rinsing the tub which made how you hit the tub spout even more confusing. Hitoshi runs into the bathroom to see what happened and if you were okay.

Although it was a bit strained you managed to speak. “Y-yeah we ran out a few days ago I wrote it on the fridge.”

Shutting off the water and checking the back of your head for any sign of blood Hitoshi groans. “Thats not important are you okay puppy?”

There it was again. You look up at him, eyes big as you point to yourself. “You mean me puppy?”

“Yes, you’re…

He didn’t get a chance to finish his explanation as you ignored the slight throbbing in the back of your head as you practically tackled him to the ground into a hug. Defeated and tired, his hand rubs your back as he doesn’t even bother getting off the still very wet floor, he’d have to take a long bath later and he’d be lucky if you let him have that long before you complained that you wanted his attention again.

“Yup, definitely a puppy.” he sighs, as you hug him a little tighter. It was a wonder you weren’t in any specialized field with how much strength you had, but it was mainly due to working at your family’s pet shelter and being the only one confident enough to handle the more playful dogs.

Bakugo

You’d called your boyfriend many different terms of affection depending on how you were feeling. But he very rarely used one for you. It didn’t matter to you because you knew he showed affection differently.

“Tsuki!” You shout from the second floor of your house, you both decided early on to buy a house and whoever wanted to keep it could not that it mattered he had absolutely no plans of leaving you alone at any time.

When you were met with silence you leaned out of the doorway. “Tsuki!” being a little bit louder.

Thinking that he was wearing headphones or something you were about to scream for him. Only for him to tap you on the shoulder. Nearly jumping from your skin, you leaned a little too far on the banister. His arm catching you before you can fall over.

“I just keep catching you don’t I, happy?”

You nearly narrow your eyes at him, but he just pulls you closer before kissing the top of your head.

“Happiness needs someone to be Happy.” he mumbles.

You smile as you hug him tightly. “We gotta replace the banister now, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do, the hell were you yelling about anyway?” he frowns looking into the room you were just in.

You pull him in and point. “Ah, um… we should probably call an exterminator.”

Midoriya

You roll your eyes as Midoriya was once again showing off during agency training, everyone was doing their best to get stronger and not everyone had the correct conditions to train their quirks-- you included, seeing as every time you tried to train you regenerative quirk you were practically grounded to the school. IT wasn’t like you didn’t understand why he was praised, there was more to it than simply training. But you still found yourself saying: “Congratulations do you want a cookie?”

Midoriya smiles as he pulls you into a tight hug. “Yes, I do Cookie.”

Your heart leapt a bit as he did this, but deciding to be a bit of a menace he bites your cheek. Pushing him away you huff. “That’s not sanitary I’m covered in sweat.”

Suddenly he was pushed off you. “For fucks sake keep your damn hands to yourself.” Bakugo groans as he nudges you a bit too.

Which was a bit of an alarm for you since he was not one to pull his punches with any of them. You grab his arm watching as he seemed to relax a bit. “How long have you been avoiding me Blasty?”

“None of your damn business mind reader.”

“Awe come on, Kacchan, Cookie is as sweet on you as they are on me,” Midoriya pouts a bit as he pushes against Bakugo’s still extended arm.

Bakugo rolls his eyes a bit as he doesn’t budge. “I don’t want any part of your sappy relationship.”

“Are you sure? Puppy would probably be much more excited if you were a part of it,” you tease as you wait for your quirk to stop patching him up.

Kaminari

Bouncing from one foot to the other you hated waiting for Power-loader to allow you into the lab, it wasn’t like you were banned from it you simply were given time limits. With your quirks it was kind of like a cooldown because who knew how dazed you’d be if you spent the entire day using your flame breath. Once allowed inside you zip from one space to another quickly grabbing your things and returning to your earlier tasks. Kaminari, who needed you to recalibrate his disk shooters.

“You look like a little bumblebee buzzing about.” He chuckles.

Pausing in your tracks you look directly at him. “Thank you for the compliment. Now put your disk shooters on my table space so I can start fixing them.”

“Of course, bumblebee,” He beams before getting hit with something.

“No. No.” You frown covering your face, because now your heart was in your ears. Great you’ll have to face the consequences of this later because this idiot decided to say something like that. Making fall a little bit more in love with him.

Hearing a sharp. “L/N!” before trying to clean up the mess you’d just made.

Kirishima

Since you had a harder time with Japanese than you’d like to admit so early on in your relationship you called your friend Kirishima “Edgy” because for some reason his name just made you think that was the right way to say his name on top if his quirk.

“Eiji, where are my extra weights?” It wasn’t uncommon for him to be in your apartment at any moment simply because he enjoyed being in your company.

He looks around. “Uh, I dunno Babe do you think you forgot them?”

“No, I haven’t even used them yet.” You mumble trying to think.

“Baby.”

As you pace around the mini gym you had in your apartment you look for the missing weights.

“Love.”

Not finding them in the closet you cross your arms.

“The light of my life.”

Glaring at the ground you try to wrack your brain for where you could have placed them coming up blank when your face is picked up and squished in a hand that was rather large.

“Rosebud.”

Blinking you look at Eijiro confused as you felt embarrassed for ignoring him this whole time before a sharp smile is in your face.

“You left them by the door rosebud.” he chuckles a bit before planting a kiss on your nose and pulling away.

“You’re the worst you know that right?”

He simply laughs before pulling you into a hug and preparing your face with kisses.

Shoji

Dating was difficult with your quirk. Eyes constantly glued to the ground and never looking at another if you can help yourself. So, when your current partner started referring to you by a pet name you couldn’t help but look up at him. Towering over you small frame as he crossed his arms.

“Stardust when was the last time you took a break?” Mezo wasn’t mad and you knew that, but your head hung down a little bit.

“I can’t remember,” was all you could muster before he plucked you up from your computer chair like he normally would.

Pouting a little bit, it was hard for you to even fathom why he called you this, even as you were being placed on the couch.

As if reading your mind Mezo chuckles as he pulls a blanket from the nearby chair. “I call you stardust because of the performance from school.”

“Huh?”

“Because the first time you really looked up your eyes sparkled like stars.”

You pull the blanket over your head not even wanting to look at him. “Mezo that’s not fair.”

Todoroki

“Sho?” you felt like every time you visited this man, you’d lose him somewhere in the maze that was his childhood home. Not that there were any happy memories left from the large place, but you found that for his other family members sakes he returned.

You were surprised by how accommodating the entire building was, though you had to gently remind yourself that not everyone was the same height as Enji. Not finding the dual quirk user anywhere near where you’d been, you began hunting for him. Because the moment you left without telling him first you could only imagine the problems that would cause and the abuse of money that would start.

As you looked around for your boyfriend you wondered about something for a while now, Shoto had never referred to you by your given name, he’d often tap you or stood behind you-- often giving you a near heart attack when you’d turn and almost smack him with your wing.

“Sho, where are you?” you call out a bit as you kept looking around.

Fuyumi waves as she notices you in the hall. “Oh, y/n I was wondering where were, have you seen Shoto?”

Shaking your head, you sigh. “I was just looking for him so I can let him know I was gonna head home.”

“Huh.” his sister crosses her arms trying to pinpoint where in the house her youngest brother would be.

Before you realize you felt the temperature change behind you seeing your breath a bit. “Oh there you are Sho.”

He pulls you into a hug and from how tight his hands were against you there much be something wrong.

“Hey? Do you need me to stay the night?” you ask as you try to hug him back.

He nods against your shoulder, and his hold gets tighter.

Fuyumi waves a bit. “I’ll make you some extra dinner let me know if anything changes.”

Nodding a bit you follow Shoto as he pulls you along his grip on your hand as if the moment he let go you’d disappear, but he wasn’t dragging you. Once you got to his room you sit down and hold your arms open for him to cuddle into you. Your wings going up to kind of create a slight separation between the two of you and the rest of the world.

“My love you’ll never leave me right?” he whispers.

You look down at him and hug him tightly. “Did you have a bad dream?”

He nods.

“Of course as long as you want me next to you I will never leave,” you state.

“Thank you my love.” He states.

Chuckling a bit you rub his back to sooth him a little bit. “Is that your name for me now?”

“Yes because you are my love.”

[unsolicited-opinions]

Why does it feel like some people are trying to gaslight you into being a trump supporter all because you said "no matter the political party, the administration has a right to revoke the visas of individuals who espouse their support for designated terrorist groups"?

Probably because some people are, Anon.

There are some MAGA folks in my inbox who are furious with me for being a Jew and despising Trump:

This gentile Trump fan knows so little about Jews that he uses the phrase "final solution" in telling Jews how they should feel.

The same Ask contains this:

"You people."

He thinks that Trump caused Jews to "have [our] holy lands back."

So, yeah. You're right.

But there's a bigger issue here, and that's US political polarization and the rejection of nuance.

Right or left, social media is mostly filled with people arguing from ignorance and treating politics like a team sport where one cheers for one's team loyally.

Let's look at this particular example you mention. Neither the mainstream liberals nor the mainstream conservatives want to acknowledge that these things can be true at the same time:

1. Trump is pushing the US towards autocracy as best he can. He and his administration do not actually care about antisemitism and are using the issue as a political wedge and to punish people they don't like. He's using Mahmoud Khalil's case to expand presidential powers.

2. Any administration can legally ban foreigners based on their support of terrorism.

Example: In February of 2024, President Biden banned anyone who committed and promoted violence in the West Bank from having a US visa for any purpose. This was legal. This was ethical. I supported it, and so did most Americans who noticed it.

That both Dems and Republicans seem to take a side on the issue exclusively based on party and utterly without nuance illustrates something important I'd like to ramble about.

That ramble is below the break, but It's longer than the line at the DMV and probably about as interesting. There's no shame in skipping it.

You're sure?

Okay, you were warned.

When Obama was elected in 2008 and the Democrats took a 70-seat lead in the House, the Republicans lost their @#&*ing minds. They were in the wilderness, out of power, and rejected by the US electorate. (And, as many have observed, there was a wildly racist backlash to the election of the first black President of the United States.)

The Republican plan to change this and get back into power was to make themselves the party of opposing anything Obama did.

They didn't just treat him like the president of the opposition party, they treated him like an assault on the American Way Of Life. This isn't an exaggeration.

If you weren't alive or politically aware at that time, here's some examples of Republicans rejecting their own policy ideas because Obama embraced them:

- The Affordable Care Act ("Obamacare")

The ACA’s individual mandate, which required individuals to obtain health insurance, was based on a policy developed by the conservative Heritage Foundation (yes, the authors of Project 2025) in the 1990s and was implemented in Massachusetts as Romneycare under Republican Governor Mitt Romney. It was a massive gift to the insurance companies.

Despite the plan’s conservative origins, Republicans labeled the ACA as ��socialist” and spent years attempting to repeal or dismantle it. The individual mandate, once a free-market solution, became a target of intense criticism.

- Cap-and-Trade for carbon emissions

This was originally a Republican-supported, market-based solution to environmental regulation. It was championed by Republicans like John McCain and even used successfully in reducing acid rain under George H.W. Bush.

When Obama proposed a cap-and-trade system to address climate change, Republicans denounced it as a “job-killing” scheme and labeled it a “tax on energy.” The bill ultimately failed in the Senate due to Republican opposition.

(Guess which president got the Environmental Protection Agency into existence. Republican Richard Nixon. The environment wasn't always a partisan issue and Republicans used to care about the environment before the issue was polarized.)

- The DREAM Act

The concept of providing a pathway to citizenship for undocumented immigrants brought to the U.S. as children had bipartisan support, with some Republican co-sponsors when first introduced in 2001.

By the time Obama advocated for the DREAM Act, Republicans opposed it, citing concerns about "amnesty," and blocked its passage through a Senate filibuster in 2010.

Then there were all the ridiculous personal attacks. This kind of nonsense, which hadn't been normal previously, became the daily norm:

The Republican philosophy became: If Obama and the Democrats are for it? We're against it!

I will abuse this moment to share the brilliant Groucho Marx singing "Whatever it is, I'm against it."

Anyway, this strategy worked for the Republicans and has been increasingly the norm for the Republican Party ever since.

That was bad enough, but a lot of left-leaning criticism of Obama focused on the idea that he was too centrist. That he kept trying to reach across the aisle to the Republicans, despite the way they slapped that hand every time he tried. They were pissed that Obama's administration bailed out the banks in 2009 (when they felt Democrats should be the party to break banks up and let them fail, Obama thought the economy wouldn't recover without a bailout and I think economically Obama was proven right, but politically, it hurt the Democrats). These left-leaning democrats thought it was time that the Democratic Party, originally a Labor party, had a leftist wing again.

(Sidebar: Yes, the internet has also contributed to polarization and the demise of nuance in a big way, but that's a topic for another time.)

I'm not suggesting that the polarization of the US electorate has been symmetrical. It hasn't. The rightward movement of the Republican Party has been much greater than the leftward movement of the Democrats - but we got reactionary far-left Democrats, too.

While the Republican Party is now run entirely by far right ideology (and that's a disaster), the Democrats helped make it happen with their own end of the Horseshoe.

The loudest democrats, the ones with good Q scores in the Democratic base are the likes of AOC/Ilhan Omar/Rashida Tlaib. They married the leftist wing of the Democrats to "global South" and Islamist causes (oversimplification, yes), which helped decrease support to Israel (which the Democrats used to support enthusiastically when it had a lefty government) and caused the Democratic party to completely ignore the rising antisemitism of the left, particularly on college campuses. How could it be wrong, they argued, to support protestors who are advocating for human rights?

This gave Republicans the opportunity to *own* those issues. Elise Stefanik didn't give a single shit about campus antisemitism, but the Republicans owned the issue in the minds of most Americans from this moment on:

Claudine Gay was very badly prepared for this hearing. She spoke like a lawyer, not like a human being. It was obvious Harvard hadn't done anything to protect the civil rights of Jews on campus in acoordance with federal law.

Americans (correctly) saw that liberal institutions, aligned with Democrats, hadn't done anything, nor had congressional Democrats who didn't want to alienate the "Pro-Palestinian" part of their base and didn't want the Republicans to have an excuse to go after colleges. This was a huge mistake. Biden should have had the Department of Education sue these institutions for their failure to protect civil rights. It is tragic that the Democrats did less than nothing, but that helped get us where we are.

So where did this get us?

Now, fighting antisemitism is a partisan issue which the GOP "supports" (for its own reasons, mostly a political wedge) and the Democrats oppose it as a symbol of Republican fascism.

This is why they lionize Mahmoud Khalil.

Now, being a liberal seems to mean believing that claims of antisemitism are wildly exaggerated and being dishonestly used to deflict criticism of Israel.

Now we have liberals saying "criticism of Israel isn't antisemitism" as if that hadn't always been the view of US Jews who love to criticize Israel.

Now we have liberals who are opposed to every sort of religious/ethnic persecution except one- because as David Baddiel said, Jews Don't Count.

Now, the support of the only liberal democracy the MENA region is a partisan issue which the Republican party "supports" (for its own reasons, mostly geopolitical advantage) and which the Democratic party base associates with Trump's autocracy and fascism.

There's seemingly no room for nuance on either side.

So if I express the belief that the law permits Trump to ban foreign nationals who promote violence, despite their support for Biden doing the same, liberals think I'm a fascist.

(Guess which President, by the way, was the biggest deporter of foreign nationals in modern history. Hint: it was Obama.)

If I support declining visas and/or residence to foreigners who promote terrorism (as Biden did in 2024, remember), Democrats see me as a fascist, aligned with Trump, and an enemy of civil liberties. The right sort of Jew, for Democrats, disowns Israel and opposes anything Trump does.

If I criticize Trump's efforts towards autocracy and fascism, I'm the wrong sort of Jew because I don't appreciate his strategic support of Israel or feigned caring about antisemtism. The right sort of Jew, for Republicans, is the Jew who still thinks of politics in the predictable framing of the "is-it-good-for-the-Jews" mindset and isn't concerned about the dismantling of the liberal democracy which made Jews (and everyone else) safer and more prosperous in the US than at any time in history.

If the Dems are for it, the GOP is against it.

If the GOP is for it, the Dems are against it.

These partisan policy positions are, for now, locked.

If you watch the news with this framing in mind, it may make more sense.

If you've actually reached the end of this ramble, I'm shocked and grateful. Have a cookie: 🍪

[blorbocedes]

BLONDE TWINK BARES IT ALL! GETS A MASSAGE ;)

williams!era nico gets a massage by dr.dot for RTL in a video that looks like a casting couch bad porn intro. 1/2/2009

below i explain the lengths i went to find this 👇 its v long

so our story starts a few months ago when i began frantically dming my oldest nicologist friend @colors-of-feeling if she remembered this video. I had only half remembered recollections at this point, and i really only remembered the video because it looks so much like a casting couch porn intro. I know I screenshot it but I went through my gallery and couldn't find it. i knew I had seen it a very long time ago and care is one of my first mutuals, so anything nico I've seen she's seen. she doesn't rmbr 😓

now im like holy shit did i make it up. still i plead care to turn her archive public so i can go through it. no luck. i went through my own archive, even though i know I didn't reblog it because it had been a youtube link instead of the video. and i regretted it so bad, because i know that low quality few hundred or thousand views videos from 2000s is basically lost footage because youtubes search is basically incomprehensible. I also went through the archives of other blogs that nico posted back in 2021 for any sign that I didn't just project and Imagine it. no luck.

feeling defeated i go to my final hope, the nicologist of all nicologists @distantlaughter... with only half baked and increasingly hysterical descriptors "umm its like a casting couch video! a boat! but the boat is parked 🤔 maybe the masseuse had pigtails" i rambled, normally like a normal person.

ren the absolute darling immediately pops up with a video of shirtless nico get massaged. its not.

and another one. not that either 😓 we underestimated just how much nico posted getting a shirtless massage.

finally. FINALLY. ren dms me like 10 seconds of this video hidden in a nico rosberg compilation fan video that is even in worse quality. but it's this video!!!!!! it EXISTS!!! im not crazy....... but that 3 pixel collage was proof that it was real, but alas not post worthy. There was an RTL logo in the corner so in one final futile search, we searched RTL archives which unfortunately did not go far enough. We were doing literal detective work like from the 10 seconds of the fanvid we concluded it was like, probably an RTL monaco promo video hence the coastline and the boat, and given nico's hair length it must be williams (or 2010 merc). but nothing further than that. still ren is the absolute goat nicologist who figured it out from just my descriptions alone 🙏🙏🙏

with that I ended my search, knowing it was real at least, even if it wasn't the full video.

today i got a storage full notification. so I started frantically deleting random videos I had on my phone from years. and buried in august 9, 2022 almost exactly TWO years ago . was 5 seconds of this video and the when the screen recording closed you could see it was from a video called Dr. Dot.

this time im posting the video, im also going to ask @argentinagp to gif it so this buried, almost lost footage less than 1k youtube video can get a second life again, and so we can all enjoy weird late 2000s whoring drivers out. ❤️

all of this could be avoided if simply 2 years ago I had reblogged and tagged the original link. archival work is often thankless and pointless but wow, sometimes it can feel so rewarding. so enjoy!

which brings me to the most important part. doesn't he totally look like a twink in a bad porno here?

[angelpuns]

Donnie practically pushed Mikey out of the way to get through the door, squeezing past him just in time to see the fading blue of one of Leo's portals. 

He’d barely had time to grab his bo, head still fuzzy from sleep and pajama pants uncomfortably askew from Being woken suddenly. 

Mikey was in a similar state of disarray, his shirt riding up his shell and his eyes wide and glancing around the room wildly. 

They'd both been woken by Leo's shouting, rushing out of bed to help their brother only to find Raph in a Leo-free train car. 

“Raph? What happened? Why was he yelling?” 

As his brain woke up, he was reminded of their mission for the day: reverse Leo's ‘family-forgetting’ curse or whatever it was. 

So it probably had something to do with that. 

“I dunno! I came ta wake him up like he asked me to yesterday and he just- he started shoutin' at me!” Raph turned, holding his hand to a small cut on his arm. It bled sluggishly, and Donnie quickly opened a drawer in Leo's desk that he knew had band-aids. 

“ He musta had a nightmare or somethin’, I tried to help but I think I only made it worse “ Raph worried, letting Donnie slap the band-aid over the cut, “ he didn't seem ta recognize me or know where he was or anythin' “ 

They were silent for a moment, before Mikey piped up. 

“ But he’s never made a portal during a panic attack before….are you sure it was that, I mean-”

“ oh my banana pancakes,” Donnie slapped a hand to his head. His mind had been running through every possible Leo could have ‘woken up and chosen violence’. 

It could have been a nightmare. But the answer was so obviously related to their current curse-relted predicament. 

“ The curse! It’s not- He didn’t just forget us the one time, “ He explained, starting to pace. An uncomfortably hot feeling pooled in his stomach, anxiety bubbling up from there. He shook his hands out in an attempt to dispel the feeling, the lingering worry about Leo now being somewhere totally random making him nauseous. 

“ It's- its like he resets! He must have forgotten again when he went to sleep- like- like he just got reset overnight!” He rambled, grimacing, “ This complicates everything, how’re we gonna get him to cooperate if he wakes up with a different reaction to three strangers every single day!? How are we gonna fix this is if he forgets the curse even exists!?”

Raph stopped him, hands on shoulders. 

“ Donnie, take a breath,” he sighed, and Donnie reluctantly stopped and shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. 

“We can get him back, no problem,” Raph smiled, “ ya still got that tracker in ‘im, right?” 

Donnie blinked. Right, how could he forget? 

“ of course! TO THE LAB!” he whipped around and hurried for the door, trusting they'd follow him. 

“ I'm sure ‘Nardo can fend for himself, he does have his swords,” He noted, if only to make himself feel a little less anxious, “ but I would rather him not be wandering the streets of NYC without half of his memories.” 

He continues to ramble, even as he stepped into his lab and  whipped out his keyboard, quickly pulling up the tracking device coordinates and corresponding map. 

“What if he doesn't come home before night? Will he just forget us again?” Mikey asked, swiping some stuff off of Donnie's desk and taking a seat on the surface.

Mikey suddenly gasped, grinning, " this is just like that one movie! With Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore!"

Donnie grimaced, but he had bigger concerns right now. Even if those were parts to a pretty important project. He opted to ignore that and just think harder about the actual matter at hand. And the plot of 50 First Dates. Just in case it could actually help them somehow.

“ I assume so, yes. And that amnesia-riddled plot is more medically related, so sort of but not really."

"What's more concerning is that he probably won't remember why he's out there, and that will probably introduce more anxiety to the mix,” Donnie murmured, watching as Leo's indicator moved slowly through the streets of New York. He was on then other side of the river, and seemed to be hopping rooftops for now, “ like I said, he can take care of himself, but we should at least try and convince him to come back to the lair before nightfall. I don't know if his amnesia is progressing or not yet, which is also concerning.” 

Silence again. There was also the obvious concern about Leo being gone. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be one of the more difficult things they'd been collectively working through. 

The first six months or so, Leo was never left alone. Not for lack of trusting him or thinking he wasn't capable of taking care of himself ( although he was fairly injured for most of that time ) but for the fact that none of them seemed to want to let him out of their sight. It was partially why Donnie had upgraded the trackers to track their vital signs down to their blood pressure. He didn't like not knowing. He didn't like remembering the feeling of Leo being gone after- 

Donnie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It was gonna be okay. Leo wasn't gone, he just wasn't in the lair. And he couldn't possibly know how anxiety inducing that was due to the aforementioned amnesia-curse. 

But they knew where he was, and they knew he was okay for now. 

The computer suddenly let out a beep. then another. Donnie looked up, watching as Leo's dot stopped moving. His heart rate increased, and the beeping increased with it. 

There was one thing that they hadn't really accounted for, after all. 

The chance of Leo ending up in a fight.

-----

Part 3 to the unnamed fic/au/whatever this is

I don't like this part as much, but I really am just trying to get the idea out of my head and into writing, haha! So I hope the OOC-ness of everybody isn't too bad :)

I think this would def work better as a fic, but I am kinda wanting to explore it as a comic too. Comics just take a lot of time and I can't do all the fun thought-stuff I like to do on fics so :/

Ah well I will simply keep doing whatever I want, so enjoy.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

[drakomachina]

MHS ramble posting over here for a change, i always feel like people tend to understate the size of monsties. In game, they’re sized down so they can actually fit on the screen.. but in canon i have always been of the opinion that monsties are the same size as any monster would be… which means they’re Huge. Like really big. Like I don’t quite think you’re comprehending how big, take that abstract size in your brain and double it.

capcom hath blessed us with a couple life sized raths in the past, all of which make me feel like an ANT!!!!!

additional fun fact : there’s a ratha (stories 1) statue out there. Somewhere in the world. And he is So important to me.

i’d love to make an eventual size chart featuring all the relevant monsties + npcs in my canon! in fact that’ll probably be my next big project

[bananayuyu]

just friends (5) - stuck in the middle

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 14.2k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, edging, vibrator use, unprotected sex, getting into dom/sub dynamics a bit, more fighting

a/n: just wanted to let you all know that it'll be a while until the next update of this series. I am going to focus for the next while on another writing project (a book) that is really important to me. but I promise I will pick this series up later this year. I don't know when yet, but I am so obsessed with these characters that I know it won't be too long. I am determined to give them a satisfying end to their story. I hope you all enjoy this part <3

<- previous part | next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3

10 Months Ago

"Hey, what's wrong?" Tina asked as soon as you walked in, hair wet from her shower, her sweats and t-shirt hanging loose from her frame.

"I'm freaking out girl, ugh, my fucking anxiety," you groaned, running your hands over your face and hair.

"You still panicked about what San said yesterday?" she asked you, standing up to come give you a hug, pulling you onto the couch to sit with her.

"I guess, I- I don't know, something's wrong with my fucking brain," you sighed, then sneezed hard, cringing at the pain radiating through your sinuses.

"Your allergies can't be helping," she said, grabbing a tissue from the side table and handing it to you. "And we probably have a shit ton of dust in here too," she laughed.

"It's okay, they're this bad at my place too, it's just how they are right now," you replied.

"Have you made an appointment with that allergist?" she asked.

"No, I keep forgetting to call before they close. Their office closes at four, it's so early," you sighed, looking over to her. She nodded in agreement, knowing how your late schedules often made scheduling appointments hard; most of the rest of the world operated on a different timeline for you, and while generally it was a positive thing, the quietness of the late night a comfort, there were certain ways it made your life unquestionably harder.

"It's 3:30 right now, let me call," she said, pulling up her phone and searching for the name Maya's coworker had given her two days before.

"Titi you don't have to," you sighed, looking at her with upturned eyebrows.

"Just let me, it'll be easy. That way we don't forget," she said with finality, making the call.

You sat still as she rattled off every bit of information about you from memory; your birthday, the complicated spelling of your last name, even your insurance ID. Four years of knowing her and she'd learned everything there was to know about you; when you'd first met, people always suspected that you liked each other, but it had never been like that, no matter how much it could have been. Your relationship with her was better than any romance; no drama, no questioning, no confusion. Somehow everything was always smooth sailing, somehow your disagreements or miscommunications never turned into a fight; it baffled you still that you'd managed to create this friendship with her, when almost all the other relationships in your life felt on the constant brink of cracking.

At least you could be a good friend to someone. Someone who was good and kind in all the ways that mattered, someone who cared for you back and helped you when you needed it. As you stared at her face from the side you played over the conversation you two had the day before. You'd made almost no sense, you were sure, yet she picked through all your rambling and found the truth; you didn't want San's romantic affection, didn't want your thing with him to be anything but physical. It was pure and simple, that was all there was to it. And maybe just maybe, such an intimate night with him had crossed over your line.

"Are you sure I'm not an asshole for not dating him officially?" you asked her again some minutes later.

"Dude, seriously, you're not. You told me you guys have talked about it, not just once but multiple times, and he's agreed that this is the arrangement he wants. If he doesn't want it he has to say something. And I think he would say something, you know? He doesn't strike me as the type to be so insecure that he wouldn't," she replied.

"I know, I just-" you sighed, shaking your head. "Friends with benefits situations are never really healthy though, are they? I mean like very, very rarely do they actually work. They're always toxic."

"Just cause most people don't communicate their feelings affectively doesn't mean that all casual relationships are unhealthy. If both people involved are happy with it, then that's all that matters. That's all that matters for any relationship really," she answered you.

"That's true," you said, turning back to her.

"You've stayed over once in the two months you've been seeing him. It's nothing to panic about," she reassured you, a hand on your knee.

"What if he's secretly hating this whole thing between us?" you asked, your eyes on hers.

"Then he'd be stupid, cause even getting an ounce of your attention should make anyone's life," she responded, smiling.

"Shut up, oh my god," you rolled your eyes, but a smile crept onto your face as you chuckled.

"Listen, I'm not in your relationship, maybe it isn't the healthiest, maybe he's hating it, who knows? I'm always gonna be on your side though, even if you're not making the best choices. Like- I just can't not be, you know?"

"Yeah, that's how I feel about you too," you said, smiling.

"You were the only one that was excited about me moving in with Maya," she laughed, and you laughed too, grabbing onto her hand.

"You just knew it would work, you just had a feeling. I trusted that," you said, looking at her fondly.

"And I trust you with this thing, no matter what anybody else would say, cause I know you always figure it out in the end. Even if there's some confusion along the way. You always find what's right, always. I know you'll do what's right with San, too," she said, her eyes soft, reflecting back the hope and worry in your own.

You certainly longed for her words to be true; unending support and faith, it was what you wished anyone else in your life had for you the way she did, especially your family. But with San, was she really right? Her confidence felt too good to question, so you pushed your worried thoughts aside as best as you could.

"Any word on the manuscript yet?" she asked.

You shook your head, sighing as you chuckled in frustration, the day floating away as every feeling swirled within you, a cocktail too complicated for you to understand.

6 Months Ago

"Wait, isn't that the super fancy fondue place in Uptown?" Tina asked from beside you, a lash in hand as she gently applied glue to it. The room was bustling with activity, as several wide-eyed newbies dressed and painted their faces in panic, clearly not yet used to the pace of night life work. The three of them looked eighteen at most, but you couldn't be sure; thankfully Sasha and Bibi had taken them under their wings, as the three were drag performers too. It seemed your boss was trying to corner a new market, and you weren't at all mad; it was as interesting to you to see the new performances as it was to the customers, and you couldn't wait to sneak out later and catch a glimpse of the new numbers on the night's schedule.

"Yeah I think so, I've heard it's expensive as hell," you laughed, desperately trying to pin a curl in place.

"Yeah like more than a hundred dollars a person, right?" Tina asked.

"Wait really?"

"Yeah girl, it's like a hundred and fifty a person I'm pretty sure, and who knows if you buy wine or anything else how expensive that gets," she replied, leaning forward and squinting her eye in preparation for placing the lash.

"Titi, geez," you gaped at her, giving up on the curl momentarily.

"Good for you, sounds like you got yourself a sugar daddy, basically," she laughed, pulling back from the mirror to asses the placement of the lash.

"Ugh no, don't say that," you cringed, looking back to the mirror and taking yourself in, the version of you with a full face of makeup and an absurd outfit, the girl who looked absolutely nothing like you.

"Why not, it's like the dream, right?" she joked.

"I- I guess so, I just-" Staring at yourself in the mirror, you sighed deeply. "I don't know why it's making me freak the fuck out, I was feeling better the last few weeks, fuck I'm so annoyed," you sighed, wanting desperately to put your head in your hands but knowing you'd fuck up the heavy face of makeup you'd just spent nearly an hour applying.

"It feels too relationship-y, doesn't it?" she asked, turning to face you.

"Everyone else there is gonna be on dates, no doubt," you sighed, hands behind your head.

"Girl, fuck 'em. Like seriously, what does it matter what other people might think? Y'all have figured it out, you have this dynamic that works for you. He's offering to pay for a one hundred and fifty dollar meal. Don't turn that down," she said.

"I wish I could take you with me," you laughed, sighing. "Also it's not his money, the meal is gonna be comped cause his boss knows the guy who owns the place."

"Fucking finance bros," Tina laughed.

"Tech, Ti, he's in tech," you chuckled.

"Same difference, anyway, whatever the method of payment is, don't you dare give up the chance to go eat there. Relish it, go fucking crazy, get the best bottle of wine that they have! We will spend the whole day doing your hair and makeup and buy you a perfect dress and oh god! You're gonna look so fucking good-"

"Titi calm down, please," you joked, cutting her off and holding your hands over her mouth playfully. Her antics were catching the attention of the rest of the room, and you felt a twinge of embarrassment hit you as the three new hires looked directly your way; thankfully it was only Sasha that flounced over to you, with a playful smile on her face.

"What are you two so excited about?" she joked, you both shaking your heads and apologizing for the commotion. "Well I'm happy to see it, I haven't seen you two like this in months," she said, finally sitting herself down at her station beside you.

"We finally got over our spring depressions," you chuckled, once again grabbing the pesky piece of hair giving you trouble and rolling it into the perfect circle to place at your temple.

"Spring depressions? What was so bad about this spring?" she asked, pulling out her giant makeup bag, cracking it open with a satisfying click.

"Oh you know, my play got literally zero traction, not a single fucking person was interested in putting in on," you sighed, finally pinning the hair in place with a satisfied grunt.

"Hey that play was amazing, no matter the amount of commercial interest it got," Tina responded, working on her second lash.

"I know but, I want to be successful, I wrote it the way I thought people would- fuck, I'm so over talking and thinking about it, it is what it is, but it- it was so discouraging, it did worse than my last play, and that one I put barely any effort into," you sighed.

"Miss thing, you can't let the success or failures of your writing dictate how you feel about life. You know how this industry is, it doesn't matter how talented you are, sometimes the money or interest just doesn't materialize. Don't let it get you so down. We all know you're a brilliant writer," Sasha said, rifling through her massive pile of lipsticks, the sounds of last minute costume changes and choreography checks filling the air. All he sounds around you reminded you of your first day here, the chaos you were in; a sudden wave of emotion hit you, nostalgia and longing and regret all swirling together, and you tried to swallow it all down.

"Sash that's very sweet, but what if I told you I've become a sex addict to cope?" you deadpanned, looking at her with pouted lips.

"Oh darling, we've all been there," she sighed, and the three of you burst into giggles, the conversation veering off in another direction, your sudden ridiculous comment making everyone forget the serious conversation from moments ago.

It had been demoralizing, the weeks passing by with no good news from your agent. She'd tried all she could, she promised you; you knew she was telling the truth, knew she was on your side and fighting the good fight. But you couldn't help feeling completely demotivated; not a single complete paragraph had fallen from your fingers in the three months since you'd finished it, and only now, the last week or so, had you started to write again. Thanks to Tina and her brilliant and adorable idea for a musical, your creative gears were spinning in just the way you needed. But those terribly halting months had been more crushing than you'd expected, more severe than you'd be willing to admit to anyone; you'd used your nights with San and nights with your vibrator to get through. And it all had started to feel a bit absurd; you weren't sure what the hell you were doing, and weren't sure what the fuck you could do to stop yourself.

The winter was always hard for Tina, with her depressions, but this spring because of your state, her winter blues had extended longer than they usually did. There'd been one almost fight, one tough conversation; she realized what was happening, understood herself well enough to know that being around your ever sadder disposition was making her feel worse and worse, too. She'd put her foot down; there was a week spent apart, and a request that you didn't continue to complain for the thousandth time to her about how much you hated the world for not understanding your art, and not wanting it.

You were starting to sound a bit full of yourself, and she called you on it; much needed, for sure, but it stung in a way that only those words coming from her mouth would sting, embarrassment coating your hurt. It made you snap out of it, almost immediately; the next day you already felt different, already knew that this was just the way of the world, the way of the life you chose. You'd have to get used to this kind of rejection if you were going to make it in a creative life; art was subjective, there was never going to be a sure fire way to make something that everyone loved. You were only twenty-two, had plenty of time to get your writing career off the ground; and only a few weeks later, as if the universe knew you needed a little pick-me-up, Tina jokingly rattled off a fantastic idea for a musical that you wished beyond words you'd come up with yourself.

Life started to feel stable again; even with San things felt stable, and though you now spent nights over several times a month, you'd still managed to hold the line mostly, no feelings getting involved. You enjoyed his presence in the way you did a good friend; you appreciated his shared interest in musicals, which now that you were writing one, felt especially fun. He loved the idea as much as you did, and encouraged you time and time again when you spewed on about it; it was he who helped you pare down the number of songs you wanted, getting to the crux of the scenes in need of that particular type of development, and you couldn't have been more thankful that day for his help.

Not that you said that to him. In no way did him knowing how much he helped you out of a creative rough spot seem like a good idea.

The stability had lulled you into a sense that things would never change with him; you'd found a perfect balance it seemed, and having him there to help you cope with a frustrating few months had made the whole arrangement seem even more perfect. You had helped him too, you learned; it wasn't until he transferred to his new company that he told you, but you noticed the change in him immediately. His shoulders were less tense, he was more open with his words; he finally escaped that old company and he'd thanked you in the dead of night for being there during that time, keeping him from going completely insane.

When he asked you to accompany him to the Melting Pot, you were sure he was joking. Only once had you heard someone mention the restaurant; it was a girl you and Tina peripherally knew in college, one who came from boarding school and Hamptons vacations and perfect designer bags. It was the kind of place that you knew probably sucked; no way could food be that good, worth that much money. But the girl had described it with such reverence, so enthralled; it sounded like the experience of it was almost like a wondrous show, and in that way it sounded like the perfect escape for rich people in need of more and more excitement, a simple meal not even enough for them to enjoy anymore.

You'd rolled your eyes at him, and he accepted your perspective; eventually, though, he persuaded you, insisting that there was no one else he'd rather take, no one else he'd rather experience the strange place with.

It shouldn't have made your heart flutter so much to hear him say such things.

You'd gone, of course you had, even though you'd had to take a day off work on a Saturday. Everyone, even your boss, had agreed that you'd needed to take some time away; you hadn't called out for nearly three months straight, even though you'd been nursing a depression that should have stolen your attention more. Work was the best distraction, something you always used as medicine when you needed to, but even you could see that maybe a day off wouldn't be so bad, especially now that you were feeling better.

It meant that Tina couldn't help you dress or get ready after all, but that was no worry to you; you had your own fun getting ready at home, pulling out the only dress you owned that would both feel comfortable in the crushing heat and look fancy enough for the ridiculous establishment you were about to enter. San had insisted on coming to pick you up and meet you at your door; a one time thing, he promised it would be, as he knew just how much you seemed to never want his escort. You'd both be headed some twenty minutes away, in a beautiful black car that you didn't know the name of, and it made no sense for you to walk to his place, he'd said. It'd made too much sense to argue with, so you'd let him. Opening the door to his beautiful face was a shock to your system; the cream, dingy walls of your apartment complex were no match for his sharp all-black suit, the muscles of his chest on full display underneath his tight button-up, making you swallow hard. And his eyes snaking up and down your form had you frozen a bit, your tiniest black purse slung over your left elbow.

"This good enough?" you laughed, but it was hollow and sharp, your nerves getting the better of you.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice low and sultry as he stared deeply into your eyes. Your cheeks heated immediately, your whole body reacting; you couldn't afford the reaction though, not when you wore no bra and your hard nipples would be obvious, and not when you wore no panties and your arousal could so easily slip down your leg.

You were quiet in the back of the car, San's hand on your thigh, your eyes glued to the road outside. You were rarely ever in this part of town, hadn't been in over a year; you forgot just how many shops there were, how wide the boulevards stretched, how tall and bright the Target sign was, it's red light painting the entire sidewalk below. Living downtown you were used to tall buildings, but it was the brightness and perfection of Uptown that always shocked you. How did they keep the streets up here so damn clean?

The hot evening air greeted you as you stepped out, San's hand guiding you from the car and making sure you tugged down the bit of your dress that had ridden up your thigh during the drive. He waved off the driver with a kind smile; you saw him tip the man generously on his phone, before locking it and shoving it in his pocket, holding out his left arm for you to take.

The front of the restaurant was unassuming, an uneven brick wall with simple black doors, an almost gaudy looking witch's pot adorning the awning above. But as soon as he'd opened the door, you were met with wonder; it was dark inside, every surface smooth and shiny, the dark wood of the front desk lacquered and sloped, not a sharp surface in sight. The floor was black with what looked like tiny specks of silver or clear stone, and the walls were all black too, the staff dressed in perfectly pressed outfits, all wearing suits, even the women.

The cool air hit you as soon as you entered; you gripped onto San, a shiver running through you, as you blinked and took in the room around you, the lighting so low it was unclear where the actual seated areas were.

"Choi, reservation for two," San said to the host, the man giving him a quick nod and typing something into the computer in front of him. You'd never heard his last name before, and didn't register it as such; you thought it must be the name of his boss, or his company, or whoever had made this arrangement for him.

"Right this way," the host said, walking around the desk and beckoning you towards him, the vague shape of a hallway materializing as you stepped forward. You shivered harder as you walked, a blast of cool air coming from somewhere in the ceiling.

"You okay?" San whispered down to you, not turning his head.

"I'm freezing," you whispered back, and then his eyes looked down to your bare legs, and he laughed.

"Why'd you wear something that- uh-" he chuckled as he kept his voice down, not wanting anyone to overhear. You were still walking down the hallway, still unable to see where you were headed.

"It's hot as fuck outside!" you whispered yelled, and he turned to you with his mouth agape, holding a hand up to your mouth.

"Don't use that word in here!" he huffed back, but his face was breaking into a smile, finding it all hilarious. "Here, take this," he said, breaking away from you for a second to take off his suit jacket before placing it over your shoulders.

"San, I-"

But as overcome as you were with the moment, suddenly your attention was elsewhere, for you'd entered an area that finally was lit a little more, and the tables and booths around you were nothing but breathtaking. There were few tables set through the huge room, the best seating clearly the tall booths along the back wall that sat up a few feet and offered a sense of privacy. From your angle you could spot a chocolate fondue tower on the right most table; a beautiful set of girls sat gushing over it, strawberries and papaya in hand, the fruit sparkling under the shimmery gold chandeliers that graced the ceiling above every table.

It was the left most booth you were walking towards; as you passed one of the tables, the older woman sitting gave you a not-so-subtle once over, and immediately you swallowed and tore your eyes away, not sure what it was about you that so displeased her. You were walking ahead of San, following the host at a distance you felt was appropriate, and as he made for the very left back corner of the room you were overcome with a feeling of not belonging, the room littered with the kind of people you'd hardly ever been around in your life.

"Steve brought this down himself for you two, it's a Yamazaki Single Malt whiskey from his collection," the host started as you both slid into the cozy booth, presenting a bottle of dark amber liquor, setting it down on the beautiful mahogany table. "He sends his regards, said you two are our guests for the night. So anything you need, you just let me know," he finished, a pleasant smile slapped permanently on his face.

"Thank you so much, I'll have to thank him myself for this," San replied, grabbing the bottle in his hand and inspecting it, rolling it slightly side to side.

"Would you like a glass of that tonight? Or something else to drink?" the host asked.

"I'd love to have some of this, thank you," San nodded at him, then looked over to you, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, uh, I'll try some," you said, suddenly feeling like you couldn't say no, no matter how much you hated whiskey. "Could I have a glass of water, too?"

"Of course, will that be all for drinks?" he asked, that same serene smile still gracing his round face. You both nodded in unison, and in a moment the man was out of sight, lost to the dark hallway from which you'd emerged minutes ago, making not a sound as he walked.

"Guess how much that whiskey costs," San said as he turned to you, scooting closer and throwing an arm around your shoulder, the grin on his face almost cocky. The booth was a small half circle that encased the round table, allowing for as much closeness or distance as two people could want at a meal.

"San, do I look weird in your suit jacket?" you asked though, ignoring his inquiry, still playing over and over the look that woman had given you. He turned his face towards you, already looking confused. "I stuck my arms through like this cause it's more comfortable, but do I look insane?"

"You look beautiful," he said again, placing a soft kiss on your temple, and though it should have completely reassured you, made you calmer, it made you feel almost worse. You pushed him away subtly, looking at him with pathetic eyes.

"Seriously, no other girl in here has a jacket over her dress, they all think I'm being weird, don't they?" you asked.

"Baby no one's looking at you, no one cares, plus you look adorable in my jacket," he said, looking you over.

"It swallows me whole," you pouted.

"Yeah, it's adorable," he repeated, looking at you almost sternly. "Why are you worried about it?"

"I don't belong in here, I feel weird-"

"Of course you belong in here, what do you mean?" he cut you off, seeing your gears turning towards upset, needing to put a stop to it as quickly as he could.

"This place is for rich people, not people like me!" you cried under your breath, looking around at the manners and posture of every other couple, those habits that only upper class breeding could teach a person.

"It's not for rich people, it's not that expensive, not like some exclusive place you need an invite to or anything like that," he responded, eyeing you. "Are you seriously not having a good time?"

"How expensive is that whiskey?" you shot back, and he sighed in a momentary defeat, but didn't move from his position mere inches away. "What, is it like $500?" you continued. San looked away for a moment, eyes scanning the empty table as if it were the most interesting thing in the room. "Shit, $1000?" A deep sigh fell through his lungs, and he looked back to you, subtly shaking his head. "It's more than a $1000?" you eyed him, eyebrows high with shock. "Don't tell me it's like $10,000 or something," you laughed, shaking your head.

"I think it might be close," he said, but his voice was tight; no longer was he sure if he could joke about these expensive things with you, with just how uncomfortable you seemed to be.

"That's rich people shit, like rich rich people shit," you sighed, your tongue on the roof of your mouth.

"Yeah, is that a problem?" he nearly snapped.

"It's not me," you said, your upper body subtly leaning away from his piercing eyes.

And just as he was about to speak, the host came back, two empty tumblers and a glass of water on a small platter. He set it all down, passing the water to you; he poured the two glasses of whiskey with ease, leaving the bottle open on the table next to San, an obvious invitation for him to drink more through the night if he wanted to. He waited for San to take a sip, humming as the warmth spread down through his chest, the taste smooth and dark and spicy, absolutely, breathtakingly delicious.

"It's amazing, thank you," San said to the man, who nodded with a small bow, then grabbed his platter and placed it underneath his arm.

"Are you ready for your first course, or would you like some more time to enjoy your drinks?" he asked.

"We're ready, thank you," San nodded at him, before the man turned and disappeared, just as fast as the first time.

"Give it a sip," San nodded towards you, his eyes falling to the tumbler of whiskey in front of you. You tentatively reached towards it, wrapping your hand around the thick glass; it was heavy and hard to lift, the weight of it surprising you, and as you brought the whiskey towards your face you stopped under your nose, taking in a whiff. The strong, spicy aroma hit your sinuses immediately and made you slightly recoil; when you looked over to San he was watching you intently, clearly waiting for you to do as he'd said. Carefully you tipped the glass towards your lips, taking in the smallest of sips. You swallowed quickly, trying not to grimace too obnoxiously, the sharp flavor almost making you want to gag.

"How is it?" he asked.

"I hate it," you said, the aftertaste now hitting you, another turn of your head and grimace following.

"I know," he said, sighing and looking around, taking the glass into his right hand and pulling it away from you. "I know this isn't you, I'm not asking you to love it," he said slowly. "I'm just asking you to try."

"Try what?" you asked, eyeing your glass that now sat right next to his.

"Try to actually have a good time with me when I'm taking you out," he said.

"I'm having a good time," you mumbled, your eyes hitting the table.

"Baby, you look miserable," he huffed, looking you over again.

"I'm just cold," you sighed, your legs shivering beneath the table, San's jacket helping but not completely making up for the bareness of the rest of your body.

"I could ask them to turn down the AC," he said.

"Oh god, don't do that, I don't want to seem even more insane," you replied.

"Baby," San groaned, tipping his head back with a groan.

"I know, sorry, I'll stop complaining," you sighed, wrapping your hands around one of his and scooting into his side. "Thank you for taking me here tonight, I'm sorry I'm being a bitch," you whispered, eyes fluttering up to meet his, a look full of apologies gracing your face.

It shouldn't have been that easy to win him over, but it always was; the big eyes of the girl he loved looking up at him would always make him fold. He knew, by then, how he felt about you, and he was pretty sure that with time you'd feel the same. This night was a bit of a test, if he was honest; an opportunity to see how you were on an actual date, if you could relish spending the night with him in this way, not in the way you two usually did. He needed to see it before he popped a bigger question to you, one he sincerely hoped you'd say yes to, one that would tell him so much more than this evening could.

Moments later the first course, cheese fondue, hit the table. A pack of four servers arrived, one with the boiling pot itself, placing it carefully a the center of the table and warning you of the heat, the others all carrying dippers and side dishes, the options endless. There was a plate with three different types of interesting looking bread; countless others were filled with what looked like sliced apples and pears, roasted Brussel sprouts and cauliflower, other vegetables and fruits you couldn't be sure of, and an assortment of beautifully plated salamis.

I guess I was wrong, you thought as you dug in, mouth salivating from the moment the pot of cheese had hit the table. Enjoy the evening, that was what everyone told you to do, what San was practically begging you to do, so you did. It was easy when everything tasted so good and you barely had to talk; it occurred to you how strange it was that dinners were common first date activities, when so much of the time was taken up with food in your mouth and no chance to get to know the other person.

The second course was the meat course; a large red pot full of boiling oil was placed where the cheese had been, a live flame underneath it that could be adjusted with a small lever, San immediately reaching forward to see how it worked. On the table sat a beautiful piece of meat; 'filet mignon' one of the servers had said, making your eyes go a bit wide. San showed you how to cut it into the perfect sized pieces, skewer it, then place it in the oil and wait patiently as it cooked to perfection. The assortment of sauces was monumental, ranging from curries to peanut-based concoctions to sweet chutneys. There was no ketchup or barbecue sauce here; each one was more delicious than the next, surely full of ingredients that you wouldn't recognize by name.

"You having fun?" San asked as you chewed your final piece of steak, covered in your favorite of the sauces, the yellow curry.

"Mmhm," you responded while chewing, smiling up in his direction with your closed lips.

"Good, cause I have something to tell you," he said, taking back another short swig of his whiskey, still nursing the first glass that had been poured for him nearly an hour ago. His cheeks were already getting a bit pink; the alcohol was lubricating his thoughts, and though you'd known him for almost half a year by that point, it was the first time you'd seen him drunk since that first night you'd met, all those months ago.

"Hmm?" you responded, finally swallowing your bite and taking a sip of your water.

"Quiero escapar contigo," he said, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

"Quiero, you want, you want to escape...?" you wracked your brain, trying desperately to remember the little Spanish you knew. "You want to escape with me?"

"Si, podemos escapar, solo los dos," he pointed between the two of you, his eyes suddenly looking a little more obviously drunk.

"Podemos?" you asked, not recognizing the verb.

"We can," he answered you.

"You want to escape with me, we can escape, uh, just us two?" you asked, laughing at how hard you were having to work at it. "How the fuck do you already know more Spanish than me, this isn't fair," you pouted, making him laugh.

"Diego has been teaching me some stuff," he said, smiling. "Diego's the guy who works at the front desk in my building, he usually works the evening shift," he said, answering your look of confusion. "I've been teaching him bits of Korean too."

"Oh yeah, sorry," you replied, knowing he'd told you that before. "Didn't you say he already speaks like four languages?"

"I think so," he replied.

"Y'all are too much," you laughed, shaking your head.

"So, do you want to escape with me?" he said again, eyeing you seriously.

"What are you saying?" you laughed.

"Want to escape the heat with me?"

"I'm definitely tired of it," you nodded, the hottest month of summer still not quite upon you, every soul in the city dreading the coming 100 degree days.

"My office is going on a trip to Red Tree Valley, and we're each allowed to bring one plus one," he said.

"Read Tree Valley?" you asked.

"It's up north. Wine country, vineyards. It's beautiful."

"You're gonna be drunk as hell in wine country," you laughed.

"I'm drunk as hell right now," he chuckled, his hot breath smelling of nothing but the sharp whiskey he'd just finished, the single glass making his face and neck now flush a soft crimson.

"Do you wanna take me to wine country so you can drunkenly ask me to be your girlfriend?" you laughed, feeling like maybe that one sip of whiskey earlier had started to affect you too, even though there was no way so little alcohol could have any real affect. "So I'll drunkenly say yes?" you laughed again, head tipping back as you enjoyed your own joke a little too much.

San's face was frozen and his eyes staring off when you looked back at him again, the last thing you expected. "What?" you asked, still chuckling but trying to keep it at bay, worried that your noise level was the reason he was looking so uncomfortable.

It was really because you'd just read his mind, but there was no way he'd be telling you that now, not with the way you'd so obnoxiously just laughed at the idea of him asking that question.

"You know I can't really drink though, like I wouldn't be able to go to a bunch of wine tastings or anything like that, I'd get so sick," you continued. "I wouldn't be expected to like accompany you to every thing you were going to right? I'm assuming there's like a whole itinerary for the trip, but-"

"There's no itinerary," San cut you off with a sigh, turning his serious face back towards you. "We'd have complete freedom of what we did those days, we'd be staying in a little cottage all to ourselves."

"Wow," you responded, letting it all sink in a bit. "When is this? And how long is the trip?"

"It's in three weeks," he started, making your eyes go wide. "And it's a four day weekend trip, a Thursday through Sunday."

"I'd have to take the week off work," you said, looking at him deeply, easily finding every reason why you should say no.

"When's the last time you did that?" he asked as your final course arrived, your own decadent chocolate fondue tower placed in the middle of your table, fruits and pastries filling the rest of the space.

After swallowing a bite of a strawberry you turned to him. "If I say no, who will you take?" you asked, licking a bit of chocolate from the corner of your lips, San's gaze locked on the movement.

"No one," he said, making your heart fill with the warmth you wanted, letting go a sigh of relief. A beat passed as you both locked eyes, your chocolate stained tongue visible to him as your mouth hung open in satisfaction. It was moments like these that made him sure you were on the road to loving him too; you liked when he told you romantic things, and you liked that things with him were exclusive, even if you weren't officially together. He could tell you were about to crack, to give in to his desire, and his breathing turned deep as he kept staring at your mouth, his gaze making something within you shudder.

"I'll go with you," you smiled, body giddy, your legs subconsciously squeezing together under the table.

"Yeah?" he asked, a hand coming to your thigh and squeezing it, his body leaning in.

"Quiero escapar contigo, también," you whispered, his lips brushing yours for a soft moment. The kiss was brief, the only sort of kiss appropriate for public; later that night he'd given you a piece of his mind, whispering all number of Spanish phrases in your ear as he leaned over your back, your body slack against his bed as he drilled into you.

With frenzied work on the play, and the chaos that work could be in late summer, the weeks flew by, your mind not registering just how fast until you were one day from your trip and hadn't packed a thing.

The late summer, just like the winter, would draw people indoors who were trying to escape the weather; often a loitering group could be spotted inside the front doors, their eyes wandering and brows sweaty, clearly not having planned on coming in. It always created a sense of urgency, of disorder; the summer heat always did, and with three new hires and a totally new roster of performances on the schedule, you left work most days completely drained and zoned out.

It was the first Wednesday you hadn't worked in a long time, that was why you suddenly remembered; you'd woken to a text from Tina wishing you good luck with packing, suddenly remembering that tomorrow you'd be leaving with San, needing to have enough clothing with you to actually make it through four days. You were pretty sure there were no stores nearby, no where to grab pads or toothpaste if you suddenly realized you hadn't packed them.

1:07pm: What time do I need to be ready tomorrow?

You sent off the text with haste, scrambling to comb through your closet and find your large duffel bag. There was no time to waste, not when you were sure it was less than twenty-four hours until you'd be leaving, and you hadn't packed even a bit.

1:09pm: The car will stop at my place at 7:45, should be to yours no later than 8

You gaped at his response, suddenly realizing you never asked this before. His next text came through a minute later.

1:10pm: I know it's early for you, you can sleep on the drive. It's about three hours away

Three hours, you really were going far. The highway that snaked north of your city was one you'd never really taken, as out past the hot springs there was nothing for miles, just the harsh open desert and occasional dirt road turn offs. You'd never heard of this place San was taking you, and were sure it must be small and privately owned; you would definitely be feeling uncomfortable again, but you couldn't deny that the night at the Melting Pot had been fun, the experience memorable, your urge to gush about it to Tina overwhelming.

You'd stopped yourself, to save her the irritation, and so she wouldn't possibly ask you questions you weren't ready to answer. You mentioned the trip off-hand and she'd been less shocked than you'd expected; maybe she was more used to this than you already, somehow. She kept repeating, what a perfect arrangement you two have. But you had strong suspicions that San was tired of not being official, and that this trip was his chance to try to change that. Your joke at dinner had been a joke, but also a test; frankly the whole trip was a test, and not just for you, for San too. You were ready to see if your casual thing could extend this far, into trips taken together, dates, nights spent in the same bed. And he was ready to know if finally you were seeing the light, finally seeing what was staring you in the face for six whole months.

As predicted, you couldn't keep yourself awake during the drive, no matter how hard you tried. The desert highway was so flat and quiet that it lulled you away; you were woken once you'd arrived, a bit of drool from you mouth staining the shoulder of San's white t-shirt, his outfit casual but still extremely clean cut. You were dropped in front of your cottage; a one story adobe house with a flat roof, wood decorating every corner, the front door carved in the shape of a giant feather. Inside the air was cool, though no sound indicated an AC unit; there was a tiny front closet, two robes and two sets of slippers inside, a large bed perched in the corner, many colorful rugs adorning the hard wood floor, and a small kitchenette to your right. Down a small hallway was the bathroom; a stone tub sat in the corner, several spigots placed along the wall.

"This is connected to the hot spring, so we can fill the tub with hot water whenever we want," San said, seeing your eyes curiously moving over everything, your mind still a bit fuzzy with sleep.

"That's really nice, wow," you yawned, reaching over to hug him and shove your face in his chest. You wanted to sleep more, and thankfully he allowed it; a short nap was taken by the two of you, cuddled up on the small but luscious bed, San's warm body and even breaths making all sense of time leave you as you drifted off again.

The whole trip, time flied; with him it had always been that way, any moment together feeling like it both extended beyond words and was too short for your liking. But you'd never spent multiple days in a row with him like this, and out in the valley, hikes and meals and evening soaks in the stone tub, life felt completely unreal. It was as if you'd stepped out of your reality into another one, as if you left your real self on pause as you snuck away to indulge. You slept better than you ever had, nearly on San's schedule; you felt light and airy and full of energy on your long walks, felt no sense of anxiety or worry, none of the slight darkness that always followed you.

You'd always thought of it as the way an artist's brain works; mulling things over, obsessing, worrying, analyzing constantly, every aspect of your life and other's dissected to shreds. But suddenly you felt like you were really living, being present, being in the moment, able to take a deep breath and feel it fully exit your lungs before your brain jumped to the next thing.

It was Sunday morning, before you realized; you woke early with San as you had been, walking to the one restaurant on site to have your breakfast. You sat at the table you had been the whole trip, by a window that faced the lush side of the valley; you stared out and watched the long grass blowing in the breeze, mesmerized by how vibrant it was. You'd never seen vegetation like this in your life, and it was hard to take your eyes away.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," San said once you ordered, and you nodded in response, barely tearing your eyes away from the window. About another minute passed before the voice spoke.

"Hi, sorry to bother," a soft woman's voice said behind you, and you whipped your head around, met with the small round face of a short Korean woman.

"Oh, hi," you said, smiling awkwardly. No one had approached you two all trip; in fact you couldn't be sure who here was a part of San's company, and who happened to be random couples visiting at the same time. There were cottages littered throughout the property, you couldn't be sure how many; also, it seemed some people came to visit for just the day.

"I'm San's boss's wife, Eunchae," she said.

"Oh, hi, I'm y/n," you responded, reaching out a hand to shake hers. Then you suddenly felt awkward, wondering if your greeting was correct.

"Again, I hope I'm not bothering, me and my husband just couldn't help noticing how sweet you two are together, are you San's girlfriend?" she asked.

"Oh, that's really sweet, but no, we're just friends," you smiled back, your throat feeling like it was closing a bit on you.

"Oh I see, well-" She was cut off by San's return, him pulling out his chair, the wooden legs scraping against the floor.

"Oh- anyeonghaseo," she said, bowing slightly to him.

"Anyeonghaseo," he said back, bowing too, before the two launched into a brief conversation in Korean that you caught none of.

"Telling everyone our business, are you?" he laughed once she'd left, your food arriving a moment later.

"She literally came over and asked if I was your girlfriend," you responded through a full mouth, your hand covering it.

"Boss keeps asking me when I'm getting married," he laughed, shaking his head.

"Married?" you replied, shocked.

"You know how adults are," he sighed.

"My boss has never asked me that," you chuckled.

"Your boss doesn't know your parents, does she?" he asked, finally digging in himself.

"Before we pack, I have a present for you," San said as the two of you walked back through the door to your cottage.

"You waited all trip to give it to me?" you asked, your eyebrows high with excitement, sitting yourself in front of him on the bed.

"Yes, it's very special," he said, eyeing you with mock seriousness, making you giggle. He squatted down to his suitcase and zipped it open, reaching under a pile of shirts to find the box. "I know you said yours died a couple weeks ago so I wanted to get you a nice new one," he said, rising.

"Okay?" you responded, head tilting to the side in confusion. It took you as long to put two and two together as it did for him to reveal the box to you; a stunning and sleek black wand, to replace your trusty vibrator that had just died on you after years of use.

"Oh my god, San," you gasped, reached forward to grab it from him, your body immediately feeling tingly and hot. "This must have been..." you trialed off before you could finish your sentence, knowing he wouldn't want you to complain about the price. It was at once a thoughtful and utterly sexy gift, and you just kept staring up at him with your mouth agape and eyes wide, making him chuckle.

"Do you like it?' he asked, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at you.

"Of course," you sighed, finally reaching to pull it fully out of the box, to feel the silicon head and sleek metal body in your hands.

"It looked nice, I hope it's as good as your last one," he said, smirking.

"Of course it is San, I know you know that, stop playing," you laughed, reaching out to playfully smack at his side.

In an instant his lips were on yours, his hands caging in your face, pulling you close. The whole weekend had been like this; any moment you two were alone in the privacy of your cottage his hands were on you, stolen kisses and heavy breaths filling the air, even as you got ready for your next activity. There was such electricity between you that by the time night fell, your bodies slack from your hot soak, you were animals, ravishing each other until your muscles could take no more. It felt good, felt the way you'd always hoped you could feel with someone; to have it with him, without all the extra baggage of a real relationship, felt too good to be true.

Your hands still gripped your new toy as San opened his mouth to deepen your kiss, pulling a moan from the depths of your throat as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. Your mouth opened even further, and he crashed his lips on yours, nearly knocking you onto your back as he loomed over you ever closer. You moved to reach up to him, moved to pull on his broad shoulders and feel his muscles clenching under-

His phone on the wooden side table started buzzing, making you both jump.

"Fuck, it's my mom," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. His breaths were still heavy, his face a bit flush and lips slightly swollen. "I should answer it," he said, grimacing.

After steadying his breath he clicked answer, and immediately her voice came soaring through the phone, faster than he could put it to his ear.

"Sannie!" you heard her cry, and immediately your mouth fell open, your heart melting at the nickname.

His muscled arms and furrowed brow stared down at you as you mouthed, 'Sannie?' He just rolled his eyes and shook his head, holding a finger over his lips to shush you. It was hard staying silent as you took in the cute nickname, so juxtaposed with his looks, so unexpected. But the more you said it in your head, the more you mouthed the words, the more perfect it seemed for him.

You'd expected a short conversation, and so had San, but pretty quickly you realized she must be sharing some shocking or exciting news, as his tone of voice and mannerisms were not calm in the slightest. You sat inspecting your toy more, running your hands along the body, mouthing his nickname even more. Then you sat cross-legged and just stared at him, watched him pace slowly back and forth in the small room, listening for long periods before giving his two cents.

Bored, that's how you were suddenly feeling, and frustrated that the attention wasn't on you, if you were honest. You were sure more than ten minutes had passed, probably more like fifteen or twenty. And your wet panties were making you feel needy and uncomfortable; you had to get them off. Suddenly you stood and stripped, making San's eyebrows shoot up, before walking to the plug in the wall by the bed, connecting your new wand to it. You sat yourself back on the pillows, inspecting the on button to make sure you knew where to press. Then you placed the head in between your legs and pressed hard; you weren't prepared in the slightest for how it would feel.

It was a powerful one, on account of the cord; much more powerful than your last vibrator, and this was only the lowest setting, you were pretty sure. You nearly yelped with shock, the feeling almost painful with how stimulating it was. You jerked it away from your core, breath caught in your throat and your face completely shocked.

"Holy fuck," you whispered to San, who was staring hard and trying harder not to laugh, covering his mouth with his hand on instinct, even though his Mom couldn't see him. You saw him take a deep breath, spinning around so he wasn't looking at you anymore; within a minute he was ending the call, shoving his phone in his pocket and turning around to look at you.

"That thing is strong as hell," you said, still naked and spread wide open. He could see everything, see the wet spot in the panties you'd thrown not he ground, see your cunt glistening for him.

"I think you put it on the highest setting," he said, immediately ripping off his shirt and throwing it on the ground, crawling on the bed towards you. "Look, here," he said, showing you the buttons. "This side is for the high settings, this side is the low."

"I thought it was the opposite," you laughed, a twinge of embarrassment hitting your cheeks and making them redden.

"I thought you knew your way around vibrators," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss you.

"Shut the fuck up," you said as he closed the distance, opening your mouth for him to dive in, to pick up where you'd both let off. "Sannie," you added when he pulled away, making his head drop for a moment, his dimples popping as he smiled.

"I think that calls for punishment," he sighed, sitting himself up on his knees and caging you in, holding your wrists in his hand. "Hmm?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

But you couldn't answer him, all you could do was stare up with wide pleading eyes as your heart started racing, hoping beyond belief that he'd follow through with this.

You'd discussed it only briefly, saying you were open to trying it. You'd never edged yourself, much less been edged by someone in control of you; you weren't prepared for how frustrating it would feel, how far you'd drop into your head and how much you'd completely forget that anything else existed. He had the perfect tool at his disposal, and was pretty sure he could read your body well enough; of course he could, plus you wouldn't come for anything unless he told you you could, loving the feeling of being putty in his hands. After three lost orgasms you were tearily begging him to finally let you have one, and he relented, his own arousal making his cock so hard it was nearly throbbing in pain.

"Fuck, Sannie, fuck," you moaned, as you held onto his wrists, grinding your cunt against the soft head of the vibrator. The nickname fell off your tongue without a thought; even he didn't notice it, too enthralled in the scene in front of him, in watching you soak the head of the vibrator as you nearly came undone.

"You did so good for me baby, you can take this one," he said, and your eyes welled with tears, more from the sweetness than anything else.

"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you were nearly screaming, your climax finally hitting, the most intense clitoral orgasm of your life ripping though you like wildfire. Your legs shook violently on the bed as you rode it out, pushing your knees impossibly wider, chasing all the pleasure it had to give you.

"Our neighbors over there probably heard you," San chuckled as you came down, motioning his head out your window to the closest cottage.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," you cringed, biting your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh.

"No no, let them hear how good I fuck you," he said with a smirk, pushing away the toy to fully envelop you in a kiss, his mouth moving to your neck and hands grabbing at your chest, rubbing your nipples in his hands.

"Fuck, San," you sighed, still coming down from your high, your legs trembling under him. "My legs won't stop shaking," you laughed, holding onto the back of his hair as he moved his mouth down to your left nipple, rolling his tongue around it for a moment before sucking on it hard.

"You okay?" he chuckled as he lifted himself up again, slowly unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them, standing briefly to slip them and his boxers down and off. He was rock hard, cock already glistening at the tip, and your eyes fell to his length shamelessly, your tongue running over your lips. "Can you handle more?"

"I think so," you said quietly, your arms opening to him as he fell back on top of you, kissing you messily and tickling your side, making you scream and squirm.

"Hey!" you cried under him, laughing hard with a bright smile, turning your head to the side for a second as San continued to bury his mouth in your neck.

"Here, come here," he said as he relented, pulling back a bit and readjusting your legs, putting one knee over each of his shoulders. "I'll hold your legs like this so they won't shake," he said, using his left hadn't to guide his cock through your soaked cunt, then pushing in slowly.

A low moan fell from your lips, your eyes closing as you felt him stretch you, then bottom out. No matter how many times he'd been inside you he still felt so big; not quite as shocking as that very first night, but still he stretched you, still it sometimes felt hard to take, especially in certain positions. He waited until your eyebrows unfurrowed, until your breath evened out again, to start moving.

"Did you like what we did earlier?" he asked as he lazily stroked in and out of you, holding onto your thighs slung over his shoulders, leaning down so your faces were about a foot apart.

"Yes," you whispered between moans, eyes opening and shutting with every stroke, the feeling electric.

"You like this?" he asked.

"Yes, s-so much," you sighed, clenching down on him, the angle making your cunt almost numb with pleasure.

"Fuck, baby, do that again," he groaned above you, and you obliged, clenching down as he thrusted in, making his breath hitch. "Fuck I love your cunt so much," he moaned, making you clench again involuntarily at the use of the lewd word. "Your body is so fucking perfect, like it was made for me," he whispered as he closed the distance, your legs folded completely over you as he kissed you passionately, the angle now so deep you could feel him in your guts.

You were used to dirty talk from him, but this was so much more reverent than usual; as you both came your guts twisted in knots with all the pleasure you were feeling, body so spent you could barely walk. The rest of the day it was like you couldn't leave his side, as if breaking contact would lead to your sudden death; something in that moment, in those words, had latched you to him. The whole trip felt like a fever dream, felt unreal; you wouldn't realize how attached it'd made you until months later, when a challenging month would put everything in perspective in a way you wished you could have seen coming.

Present

There's nothing like catching the flu as an adult to remind you how fragile you are. Nothing like laying awake at three a.m. unsure if you'll survive the night to change your perspective.

It had been a very long time since you'd been sick like this; never had you taken two full weeks off of work, unable to walk much for the first week, spending every waking moment of the next nursing yourself back to health.

Every day began to bleed into the next, the way nothing was happening; you swore days were repeating themselves, felt like you were going slightly insane. The only break from the monotony was San, or Tina and Maya visiting, or your roommates occasionally knocking on your door to check that you were alive. Your head hurt so badly you couldn't look at your phone or computer; your body hurt so badly you didn't want to move at all.

It meant you spent the time thinking, thinking about things you'd shoved so far back in your mind you thought you'd never see them again. You thought of your family, thought of the images of your twin Micah caring for your dad that one summer so long ago, the first time his health took a severe nose-dive. Those images burned the back of your eyelids as they played through your head, making your brain feel fiery. You thought of the last year, of everything you and Tina had worked towards; you thought of the bar, of your wonderful coworkers, your beautiful friends that made life more fun than you ever thought it could be.

And you thought of San. You weren't sure why thinking of him, of everything, was what made you cry. He'd been with you almost every night you'd been sick, bringing you soup and tea, waking up in the middle of the night when you did and grabbing you more medicine on instinct. He held you close as you cried through your pain, comforting you until you finally, finally fell back into slumber.

The last year with him played through your head, and as long as it did, the tears kept flowing. A string of kindness from him, that was really all you could remember; you knew you'd been cruel, knew you'd kept him further than arm's length for so damn long. Yet here he still was, helping to take care of you, his warm body against yours the only reason you were getting decent sleep at night. During the day you were still feverish, exhausted, and in need of rest; but the sleep never came until he leaned down beside you, his work day behind him, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks and feeling over your forehead and neck to see just how feverish you were.

You vowed to be better. Not just to San, but to your family, to your friends, to everyone in your life who made it so good. Your life was not perfect, not the sort of thing anyone would dream of; only if that person was like you, too obsessed with their art to pursue any kind of normalcy, would they desire this strangeness. But you loved it, loved it all the more as you lay sick in bed, missing the strength of your legs as you twirled around the stage, missing the simple act of running your fingers over your keyboard, your mind clear enough to spew forth the stories always running through your thoughts.

"If you feel better by Valentine's Day, can I take you out that night for dinner? It's next Sunday," San asked you one evening as you lay slack and shivering against him.

"I'd love that," you replied, looking up at him with your red, watery eyes. Laying on your side with your head on his chest was a welcome change from your back, but the position was making your lungs squeeze a bit in a way you really hated.

"I was thinking we could go to the Melting Pot again, it's almost been a year since we went that one time," he said.

"I'll really have to be better if we go there," you laughed, coughing immediately afterwards.

"I know, we'll only go if you're not coughing anymore," he said, rubbing his hand comfortingly down your back.

As the week before Valentine's Day rolled on you were less and less sure of the plan; by that Thursday you were still a coughing, miserable mess. At least the fever had gone, for several days now, but the idea of getting dressed up to go out, especially to an extremely fancy restaurant, sounded positively awful. By some miracle though, Saturday morning you woke feeling much better. You were able to stand on your own, make your own breakfast; you even managed to sit up for a while and do some writing, before vegging the rest of the day away watching reality TV and eating anything you could find.

Sunday morning you felt even better; you'd shooed San home the previous day, told him he no longer needed to stay. He'd been a bit ragged with taking care of you for so long, and though you were thankful and wished he could be there forever to help you out, you knew he needed space and rest too. You slept like a rock though, finally feeling well due to the absence of your cough; you woke feeling far more refreshed, far more happy than you had in two long weeks.

The break from pain had you savoring everything; it wasn't until after your delicious breakfast that you saw the message from Millie.

My Kid Genius!

Oh how excited I am to be sending you this email! I ran into Mark Smith, owner of the Willow Theater at a dinner event last night, and spoke to him about your musical. He introduced me to one of the directors he works with often, and the guy immediately loved the whole premise. I showed him an excerpt from the opening song and he immediately said he wants it. He was super excited, he sent over paperwork this morning to have me sign (and there is some for you and Tina to sign as well, it is attached). The choice is yours now, whether you want them to be the ones to take you on!

How immensely proud I am! I hope you are as excited by this news as I am!

Talk to you soon,

Millie

It took you less than a second to dial her.

"Tina!" you screamed once you heard the line go live, cutting in so fast she couldn't even say hello.

"Oh my god, what?" she asked groggily, clearly having just woken up, the first morning after her work week.

"The Willow Theater wants our play!! Millie just emailed me!!" you cried.

"Wait, seriously?" she asked, yawning quickly.

"Yes seriously, wake up!" you laughed, jumping up and down in place, pacing your room frantically.

"I was up late last night, I'm fucking dead," she laughed back, sighing.

"Okay, well, yes seriously our musical is being picked up by this theater, and there's stuff we have to sign, it's a whole big thing, can we go out tonight and celebrate?" you rambled.

"Of course, of course," she replied, yawning again.

"How about Roberto's?" you asked, naming your favorite Taqueria.

"You're a cheap date, love," she joked with you.

"Come on, tacos and margaritas, what's a better way to celebrate?" you laughed.

"It'll be just tacos for you, you lightweight," she replied.

"I'll have a few sips, get real fucked up," you joked.

"Sounds good, text me later. I need more sleep," she yawned before hanging up, her brain drifting back into slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Only a few minutes later your phone rang again, San's name appearing bright on the screen. A feeling like you had forgotten something important hit you again, but with a sigh you answered, not wanting to make a big deal of it.

"Hello!" you answered brightly, the giddiness you were feeling so obviously present in your tone.

"How are you feeling baby?" he asked, yawning himself.

"Really good, I just got really good news," you said, sitting yourself down on your bed cross-legged.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" he asked.

"Me and Tina's musical is being picked up by one of the really big theaters, it's called the Willow," you said.

"Oh I've heard of it! That's amazing!" he responded, clearly tired but excited by the news.

"Thank you," you smiled, melting into the phone a bit.

"I'm so proud of you, I knew someone was going to want to put it on," he sighed.

"Sannie," you whined, never sure what to do with his praise.

"It sounds like you're feeling better, are you?" he asked.

"Yeah, a lot better- oh! I'm gonna go to Roberto's with Tina tonight, I'm sure Maya will be coming too, do you wanna come with?" you asked excitedly, with all the happiness in the world.

"I thought- you're feeling up to going out?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better," you answered, still happy as can be.

"I thought I was gonna take you out if you were feeling better," he said, and you were silent for a moment, confused. "It's Valentine's Day today," he said, knowing that you must be forgetting the date.

"Oh- oh my god I totally forgot," you nearly whispered, suddenly feeling slightly sick.

"I thought you maybe had," he said, sighing.

"Don't say it like that, I've been sick, I've been- this news was so surprising I just- this is all I've ever wanted Sannie, and the fact that I'm doing it with Tina is so amazing, and we really need to sign some paperwork tonight, that's honestly why I want to get together with her so we can do it in person and-" you cut yourself off with a deep breath. "We can go out to a fancy dinner any night, I just really wanna celebrate with my friend today," you sighed.

"I get it," he replied, so short.

"I get that you're pissed at me-"

"I'm not pissed, just surprised," he said, cutting you off.

"That's not true, you're pissed," you replied, and you both were just quiet, the truth of your statement lingering in the air. "Do you wanna come with us?" you finally asked, just to break the silence.

"Sure, yeah," he said, sighing hard.

"You don't have to-"

"Yes, I wanna come celebrate with you, this is a big deal," he said, asking you for the address of the place, promising he'd meet you all there at seven.

It should have been a nerve-wracking night, the first time the four of you were out like this together. Tina and Maya had met him in passing several times by then, but never had you been on what was basically a double-date; you two sat opposite them, you all crammed into the tiny wooden booths with yellow painted tables, the paint chipping at every edge, exposing the cheap wood beneath.

"Hey, that girl who rejected you still works here," Maya joked as she walked to the table with your drinks, reminding you of a hilarious day more than two years ago, the first time you tried your luck at flirting with someone who you barely knew. It'd been a dare too, just to add to the ridiculousness; you failed remarkably, and ever since that day your friends had never let it go, the look of pure embarrassment on your face still etched in their memories.

"Oh my god, seriously?" you laughed as she scooted into the booth, wrapping her arm around Tina and pulling her into a quick kiss, the two cuddling up against each other as they started sipping their margaritas.

"Did anyone tell you about the new line cook at work?" Tina asked you, head still rested against Maya's shoulder.

"No, how new is he?" you asked.

"Like two weeks ago he started I think, I guess right after you were sick. Right when I went back," she said. "Apparently he's one of Ilya's ex's, and there's been so much drama since the day he started. I think Julie's gonna fire him, it's a big mess."

"She better, I know she hates to do it but it's necessary sometimes," you sighed, sniffling hard as some mucus fell down your nose.

"You know how she is," Tina sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

"But he's Ilya's ex, like that's just a recipe for disaster," you said.

"I don't think Julie knows that part," she replied.

"Oh, shit," you sighed, raising your eyebrows. The two of you fell into easy conversation, Maya piping up here and there; it was how things always were with the three of you, Maya always comfortable to take a backseat in the conversation as the two of you blabbed about anything and everything. It helped that she was quite introverted, but she also just had this understanding; you and Tina were attached at the hip, you saw each other as soulmates in a way. Though you weren't romantically involved, your dynamic was something precious and holy, something you valued more than almost anything; you sometimes got so distracted talking to each other that if other people were around, you forgot them.

It had been so long since anyone had seen this happen and had a problem with it, that you'd nearly forgotten how bad it could be. And you hadn't realized for so long how understanding Maya was, how much grace she gave the two of you in these situations; the evening wore on until San abruptly told you he had to leave, and with only a simple hug and kiss on the cheek he was off, his brow furrowed, his entire body leaking the frustration and stress he was obviously feeling. As he stormed off towards the front door of the restaurant you felt a twinge in your chest; as happy as this evening had been, as good as a few sips of alcohol had you feeling, you couldn't just sit and let him go.

"I'm gonna go follow him, he seems upset," you said to your friends, quickly shuffling out of the booth with your purse in hand, walking as fast as you could without making a scene. They both nodded at you, but you could see something tense behind their eyes; whether it was worry or judgement, you couldn't tell.

"San!" you called behind him, the streets quite desolate, even for a Sunday evening. Though he was almost a full block away you could still easily make him out, not a single human between you. His head twitched a bit at the sound but he didn't look directly, so you broke into a full on run, feeling comfortable to do so given just how empty the street was.

"San!" you called again, closer now, and finally he turned his head. You caught up to him in several seconds, breaking into a fierce coughing fit from the exertion; you held onto his arm as you did, composing yourself with a deep breath, clearing your throat.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You seemed upset, I wanted to see if you were okay," you said, still holding onto him.

"I'm okay," he nodded, but his tone was flat like your's was sometimes, in a way that his rarely was.

"Are you sure?" you asked, looking up at him, but his eyes wouldn't meet yours. "Sannie I'm trying to do the thing that a girlfriend is supposed to do, you know, seeing if you're okay, running after you to get you to talk even if you just walked away all of the sudden..." You sighed as you trailed off, staring off into the empty street, the whole world feeling like it revolved around just the two of you, every nook and cranny made for just you two to exist in.

"I didn't walk off all of the sudden, I stayed for almost two hours," he sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time, sighing again when he saw it.

"But you said goodbye and got up to leave so abruptly," you said.

"I tried to say something earlier, but I couldn't get a word in," he said, finally looking down at you. "You and Tina were just ignoring us two the whole time, you know that right?"

"I- we weren't meaning to, fuck, I know we can be that way sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head. "I- I'm sorry Sannie, I didn't realize I was doing that."

"You should have seen Maya's face, the way she was just looking back and forth between you two. Like she puts up with that shit all the time," he said, curt.

"She's never minded it," you replied, taking your hands off his arms now, recoiling in on yourself at the tone of his voice.

"Well I guess I do," he said, crossing his arms.

"You really stormed off cause of that? Cause you were annoyed at me and Tina for talking so much? We had just-"

"I did not storm off, I excused myself very politely," he nearly snapped, looking up and down the street, obviously checking for potential eavesdroppers.

"Fuck, yes, sorry, you didn't storm off, but you're obviously really fucking upset at me and I'm struggling to believe it's all because of me and Tina doing our thing that we do where we talk in circles and no one can get a word in, listen I'm sorry, we just got such fucking good news! We were excited, we had to discuss a bunch of shit, decide if we even wanted to sign into this contract, it's gonna be a shit ton of work, it'll be cr-"

"Please keep your voice down," he sighed, spotting a man waiting to cross the street at the corner.

"San, why are you so upset?" you asked, your volume lower as he requested, but your tone no less distressed.

"Why am I upset? Because I was thinking I'd get to take you out to a nice dinner tonight, that I'd get to celebrate Valentine's Day with my girlfriend, that we'd have nice whiskey and delicious food and-"

"Oh, are my tastes too cheap for you, is that it?" you snapped.

"I don't give a fuck where we are, I just want to be with you!" he snapped back. "You told me I'd get to take you out tonight, of course I'm fucking upset that it didn't happen!"

"I got huge fucking news this morning, don't you get that?! And who gives a fuck about Valentine's Day, we can go out any day! I wanted to celebrate with my friend who I've been working tirelessly with for almost a fucking year! A year! And it's finally working and we're finally going somewhere and we're actually gonna be seeing our shit up on a stage- fuck, why are you ruining this night for me!? I'm supposed to be celebrating and happy!" you nearly growled, tears forming on your lash line now, your whole body shaking with rage.

"You could have just told me to stay home," he growled back.

"Oh, you didn't actually want to celebrate with us?!" you snapped.

"I didn't want to go out with your friends who are so clearly in love and have them rub their perfect relationship in my face, joking about some girl who works there who you've hit on, how the fuck is that supposed to make me feel?!" he yelled.

"It was a dare San, a stupid fucking dare that Maya gave me one day when we were bored as fuck, and she just wanted to mess with me, and I stupidly went along with it and was totally humiliated by the look of disgust on the girl's face, that shit means nothing!" you cried, your hands coming up to cup your face.

"You obviously care about them much more than you care about me," he sighed, his volume finally lowering.

"My friends?" you asked, staring at him with confusion, and he nodded. "San I've known Tina for like five years now, she's my best friend, she's been with me through so much."

"I've been with you through a lot too," he said, looking away.

"It's different though, with her..." you trailed off, not sure what to say. The pile of tears finally burst from your lash line, falling down your cheeks in a sudden rush. You wiped at them furiously, your legs shaking despite the heat, the alcohol working it's way through you, making the conversation all the worse.

"I wish you cared about me like you care about them," he finally said, breaking the tense silence.

"I do Sannie," you said, but you both could read the wobble in your tone.

"I wish you would be so comfortable with me in public, like they are," he said.

"I've just never been very comfortable with PDA," you sighed. "I wish- I wish you'd understand how strange I am. I feel like you expect me to be like someone or something else, but I don't know what that thing is, and I don't think I could be different even if I knew what you wanted."

"I don't want you to be different," he said slowly, finally taking a step towards you, opening his arms. Your body immediately reacted, slumping into him. "I like you just the way you are, even if you piss me off sometimes."

"I knew you were pissed," you chuckled through a sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe at your eyes, more tears falling now that he was holding you. They were a mixture of worry and relief, a mishmash of every sort of feeling. As you stood there in the street, the weight of the world felt like it suddenly hit you; you felt dizzy, suddenly nauseous, and you pulled away from San and ducked down into the gutter just in time for the few sips of alcohol to eject themselves from your mouth, a gross blue mess of liquid hitting the stained concrete.

"I hate when we fight," you said through tears as you stood to look at him, his hands coming to brush your hair out of your face, one moving to your forehead on instinct.

"Me too baby, me too," he said through a sigh, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"We need to stop doing it," you squeaked, more tears flowing, a deep headache beginning to bloom at the nape of your neck.

"I know," he whispered, shushing you; he carried you home on his back, helped you wash up in your sink, before kissing you goodbye, holding you so tight you thought you might pop.

Whiplash, that was what the day had been; you fell asleep exhausted from the rollercoaster, hoping dearly that whatever the next few weeks had in store, none of it would come with the sudden news that your dreams weren't coming true after all.

next part ->

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[bnny0rgnz]

The Flower Effect

Y/n did her normal routine: wake up, shower, pick up breakfast from Alfred, leave for school, practice, practice some more, go home, shower, sleep. This routine continued throughout the entire week until Friday finally arrived.

But Friday wasn’t like the others. It carried a subtle, thrilling hum of excitement.

Y/n completed her morning routine with an extra spark. She carefully applied her makeup, styled her hair with graceful accessories, and slipped into her school uniform with a pair of her favorite heels to complement the outfit. The anticipation of the upcoming field trip danced in her chest.

She practically skipped downstairs, her energy infectious. “I won’t need breakfast, Alfred! The school is providing meals for the trip,” she called, twirling slightly before heading to the door.

Just as her fingers reached for the doorknob, Vivienne appeared, her presence like a gentle breeze.

“Hey, Y/n. You look good today. Going to school?” Vivienne’s voice was soft, almost like a lullaby that soothed Y/n’s nerves.

“Yes ma’am, I have a field trip today and I’m so excited for it!” Y/n exclaimed, clasping her hands together with glee.

“Oh, where are you going?” Vivienne asked, her head tilting in curiosity.

“The school is taking us to STAR Labs. There’s this scientist who’s going to show us his project. The brochure mentioned his butterflies. He apparently combined butterfly DNA with Sydney funnel-web spider venom. And there’s supposed to be a video demonstration!” Y/n’s eyes gleamed with enthusiasm until she realized she might have been rambling.

“Sorry, I got carried away. I didn’t mean to talk so much… You probably have important things to do.”

“No, no, you’re absolutely fine! I enjoyed hearing about your trip, and I hope you have a wonderful time. You remind me of your dad when he blabs on and on.” Vivienne’s gentle laugh filled the space between them. She reached out and patted Y/n’s head. “Also, I love your makeup and hair. It suits you beautifully.”

On the bus ride to STAR Labs, her friends Lina and Daisy were practically glued to the brochures, obsessively analyzing every line like they were deciphering sacred texts.

“Thanks, Vivi...” Y/n whispered, her smile glowing under the praise as she finally headed out.

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“Look! It says we’ll see the butterflies in action! Isn’t that so cool?” Lina said, her excitement borderline manic as she waved the brochure too close to Daisy’s face.

“Yes, Lina, it’s cool. You’ve only mentioned it fifty times already.” Daisy chuckled, her eyes shifting to Y/n who had been staring out the window, lost in her own world.

“Hey, Y/n. You good over there? Don’t want you to be a mood killer,” Daisy said with a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Y/n’s smile was polite, but it was obvious Daisy’s comment had stung.

Lina’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Gosh, Y/n. I forgot you were even here! You’re just so quiet.”

“Ah, yes. I just like looking outside. The view near STAR Labs is so clear and pretty… It’s different from the crowded streets and dull suburbs.”

“Oh, you’re right. Maybe they keep it pristine for all the rich, fancy scientists.” Lina laughed, though her attention drifted away from Y/n as quickly as it had arrived.

The field trip was soon underway, with students from Gotham Academy and Smith O'Neill High School mingling awkwardly under the buzzing fluorescent lights of STAR Labs.

“Welcome, students, to STAR Labs! Soon, you’ll meet in the Butterfly Garden and witness the incredible innovations of Emil Hamilton.” The scientist tour guide’s voice was almost drowned out by the excited chatter of the students.

“But for now, I’ll show you the basics of the lab. Be aware, do not touch anything. Please and thank you.”

The guide gestured for them to follow her. “Over here is the technical resources lab. This is where our scientists, specializing in computer science, focus on accurate data management and storage. It’s a meticulous process, with constant monitoring to ensure nothing gets lost.”

Just as Y/n was about to continue silently, she noticed the guide’s expression change. “Alright, now that we’ve covered the basics, it’s time for the real reason we’re here: the Butterfly Garden,” she said with enthusiasm.

“Ughhh, this is so boring.” Groaned a girl from Starling City with an exasperated roll of her eyes. Her attention shifted to Y/n, who trailed behind her friends, unnoticed and uninvited into their conversations.

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A few moments later, the students were led into a large, brightly lit room, filled with rows of vibrant flowers. It wasn’t quite what Y/n expected—there were no rows of butterflies flitting about—but the plants were beautiful in their own right.

And there, standing in the center of it all, was Emil Hamilton. He was tall, wearing a lab coat, with a slight air of eccentricity that made Y/n think of the mad scientist trope from movies. Emil greeted the students with a wide, somewhat proud smile.

“Welcome, welcome, everyone! I am Emil Hamilton, and today, you’ll be the lucky few who get to witness a breakthrough in genetics and biotechnology!” Emil said, his voice carrying authority, but with a certain childlike excitement that made him seem both professional and approachable.

He motioned to a tank near him, where a few butterflies were fluttering around lazily. “These beauties are the result of years of research. You see, I’ve combined butterfly DNA with the venom of the Sydney funnel-web spider.” He leaned in, as if sharing a secret. “And what’s so amazing about these butterflies is that when they land on certain flowers, they can actually transfer venom to the plant. But don’t worry, these flowers have been modified to handle the venom. The butterflies, however, are far from just pretty creatures.”

As Emil spoke, Y/n found herself captivated. The butterflies’ wings glistened in a myriad of colors, their patterns shifting like tiny, organic rainbows. Emil continued, clearly enjoying his audience’s awe.

“When the butterflies land, they inject the venom into the plant. This triggers a unique biological reaction that causes the flower’s petals to bloom into vibrant colors.” He chuckled to himself. “However, this is a double-edged sword. While the flowers look stunning, the venom also causes strange side effects for anyone who touches the flowers. If you’re brave enough, you can try—but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Y/n’s heart raced. These butterflies were more than just beautiful—they were dangerous, and Emil’s excitement seemed to mask the true weight of what his invention might bring.

“And now,” Emil continued, his voice rising in excitement, “let me show you the transformation in real time!”

As he stepped closer to one of the flowers, a butterfly flew down, landing softly on a petal. Almost instantly, the flower bloomed into a vibrant purple, the color shimmering in the light.

“That’s the power of nature,” Emil said with a proud smile. “Now, for those of you daring enough, feel free to interact with the flowers after the demonstration. But remember—the venom is potent.”

Y/n stood at the edge of the group, her fingers twitching. The idea of touching one of those flowers, of experiencing the same transformation, was tempting. But Emil’s words about side effects echoed in her mind.

“Wow, that’s... intense,” Y/n muttered, almost to herself, as she stared at the flower. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice beside her.

“Hiya! I’m Darlene Darling Darson. Yep, triple D’s! My parents must’ve been in a silly mood, huh? But enough about that!” Her voice was bright and bubbly, with a hint of mischief like she’d just shared a secret joke.

“Oh, uh. Hello, Darlene.” Y/n glanced around, realizing for the first time that her friends, Lina and Daisy, were nowhere to be found.

Darlene raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile creeping onto her face. “Hey, why are you standing here all alone? Got ditched by your friends, huh?” She chuckled lightly.

Y/n’s stomach dropped, the unease of the situation settling in. She glanced around and sighed, a bit embarrassed. “Yeah... looks like it. I thought they were right behind me.”

“Well, that’s alright! Who needs friends when you’ve got me, right?” Darlene said with a dramatic flourish, grinning widely.

Y/n gave a small laugh, relieved by Darlene’s lightheartedness. “I guess so.”

Darlene’s grin widened. “I guess I’m supposed to be asking for your name right now, but I know your name already! But I still have to ask it—can’t just skip over the formalities, right? That’d be rude! It's like... people are watching us or something.” She winked. “Anyway, I’m calling you Y/n because that’s your name, right?”

“Uh... sure?” Y/n said, unsure if Darlene was messing with her.

Darlene laughed. “Perfect! Now, c’mon, let’s go sniff flowers or something until you conveniently prick your finger and get superpowers in the middle of the night!”

They wandered through vibrant flowers, Darlene making exaggerated guesses about what each one would do. “This one? Turns your hair purple! That one? Makes you sing opera every time you sneeze!”

“Wait, what?” Y/n asked, but Darlene had already grabbed her hand and was skipping toward the garden.

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Y/n laughed, her defenses crumbling under Darlene’s playful energy.

But then, as Y/n brushed her fingers against the petals of a peculiar violet flower, a sudden sharp pain shot through her fingertip.

“Ow!” She hissed, pulling her hand back and seeing a tiny drop of blood welling up.

“Uh-oh! The flower did the thing!” Darlene gasped with mock horror. “I told you, Y/n! Totally called it.”

They laughed it off, but as the day went on, Y/n’s body began to feel off. Her skin was clammy, her breathing shallow. By the time she got home, her limbs felt heavy, her head pounding.

“Maybe I just need to sleep…” she whispered to herself, stumbling toward her bed before collapsing into darkness.