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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 2 years ago

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A cause for concern

Still alive y’all, pinky promise, here’s another chapter to prove it.

What - Your ears are ringing and you’re dizzy, Glenn just revealed he suddenly had sex with Maggie, and your brother Shane is...you don’t know, but you’re concerned. And our redneck doesn’t know what’s going on, he just wants to hang out with his friend.

When - right after Picking a flower = saving the day, when you and Daryl made it back to camp after another day of not finding Sophia.

Perspective - same old You/Him setup

Relationships - Daryl has your pragmatic beer waiting but you keep being busy and he feels bummed about it. Big bro Shane is becoming more and more unrecognizable to you. Otherwise, yo, Papa Hersh is in the house!

Pronouns - neutral they/them this time around, but something Shane voices concern for is usually applied to females in terms of males.

Length - average Slowpoke chapter

TWs - some language, discussion of sexual intercourse (nothing graphic), Daryl unlearning some more casual racism, and you took too many painkillers accidentally so are experiencing tinnitus and slight vertigo. Take OTCs responsibly, kids!

Referenced plot points - how you are messing up words a little; your and Shane’s fear of flash flooding; how you promised you’d tell Daryl your big secret but would need a beer; that you, Glenn, and Amy bonded via playing ‘I never’ back at the quarry; that you and Glenn once crushed on each other; T-Dog and Daryl’s growing friendship; Shane’s descent. I’d recommend reading Quarter!, but there are way more references. Easily solved: read all the stories to get in the know, slowpoke :P

You

“I can’t believe I did it, either. It’s just so — I just —” He exhales. “I could get killed or bitten tomorrow. Any one of us, so I wasn’t about to turn that down, especially with her! But, but I-I just don’t get why she’s acting like nothing happened.” He looks at you, nervous. “Did I do the wrong thing?”

Scolding yourself for being disappointed (and hurt for some reason), you imagine taking a tea kettle off the burner. He’s kicking himself enough, so you, his best friend, shouldn’t add to that.

“It took two,” you remind him gently. “Plus, based on what Maggie told me,” such as very simply offering to have sex with him…“It was definitely somethin’ she wanted, too.”

“Wanted? Past tense?”

Oh, Glenn. What to say, what to say…

“After moving quickly like that, it might would be a cause for concern, I guess, and encurdage —uh, encourage — anyone to step back and mull over things.” There, that was good enough.

“I get it, dude, I was the one who was a, um, well — who hadn’t ever...”

He stops talking and throws his arms up. Turning to the livestock fence, he tries to click and make kiss noises at one of the horses in the pasture. The mare ignores him.

That’s one of the reasons you’d been so dumbfounded when Maggie took you aside and confessed that they had sex. You get what Glenn’s saying, especially because he doesn’t didn’t have much experience before today.

Same as you, minus the ‘before today’ part.

That was another fun fact uncovered during ‘never have I ever’ around the campfire the first week at the quarry. Amy’s jaw had plummeted when she found out the both of you hadn’t. It’s simply statistically unusual for those in their early to mid-twenties and beyond.

And yes, she giggled when you told her that exact sentence. You miss her.

Joining Glenn by the fence, you lean with your good arm. And, with somehow zero awkwardness, you nudge him with your hip. “Just give it a night, give her the night to let it sink in.”

“What? We used a condom.”

“Oh Moses, that ain’t what I—” GLENN! Despite yourself, you’re snorting a little. Good God, dude.

“—Sorry, sorry, I don’t know why my mind went there! Ugh.” He takes off his baseball cap and runs his hands through his hair. “Just: did she say she wanted space or was it because it wasn’t good? Wait, do you think she could tell that I was a…?” He left the word unspoken.

“I, um, I’m n-not sure.” Shoot, that wasn’t convincing at all. But in your defense, you don’t actually know if she knows, all you know is that she implied that he seemed unfamiliar with some things and the act was, um, well…‘completed’ on the quicker side. For both of them, though. See? Nothing outright.

“She could tell?” he immediately whispers. “Did she ask you—dude, did you tell her?”

You twist your neck to face him, shoulder only hurting a little. Three cheers for painkillers. “Being one ain’t shameful and why would that make her not like you besides?” you start. “But you best tell me right now: do I go about airin’ other people’s laundry?” Hopefully he can guess you’re upset. “Now, what she and me dinsgussed,” great you messed up in the middle of your comeback, “Dis-cussed was private, just like what we’re discussing is private.”

“But—”

“—No, wait to speak with Margaret if you wanna know her thoughts.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me about it!” he shouts. Actually shouts.

You think someone should give you a basket of fresh hushpuppies for not shouting back. You can’t help but feel for him, so are able to repeat with even and calm: “Not yet. Give it a night or a couple days, in the least.”

“But she enjoyed it — or, or at least I think she did, she seemed to!” He pushes off the fence and storms over to a nearby tree, sitting against it as he hides his eyes.

You turn around and lean backwards on the fencing so you are facing him again. Whoa, dizzy. Your ears are ringing louder than they were before while still out searching with Daryl.

“That was stupid to move that fast,” he groans yet again. “I like, like her, though, Y/N. She made sure over and over that you and me weren’t a thing, and, and I wanna make sure she’s okay, and, and…” He looks up for a moment. Oh no, is he…sniffling?

He let himself cry in front of you only three times, twice since Jacqui died, and one of those times was an accident because you’d walked in after he didn’t reply following you knocking and waiting twice on the RV bathroom door.

Voice close to breaking, he whispers, “It didn’t hurt her or anything, right? I didn’t think it did, I-I hoped the opposite because it sounded like the opposite, and I thought I felt her—sorry!, never mind—but the whole ride back was — and, and when she walked away after we got back like nothing happened and it wasn’t important—”

“No, Glenn, you didn’t hurt her.” Maggie’s privacy is important, but you need to assure Glenn of at least that much.

Yeah. A second reason you were so shocked at what happened between him and Maggie was that you’d learned a lot about his family. Glenn had sisters; he knows how important respecting a woman is, how important treating any romantic interest is.

And, well, not that he has the same sexual boundaries as you (you’re pretty much on your own there) but his parents gave him a really strong moral backbone. What happened today was a huge deal for him and he’s gonna care about it, a lot. Sex is serious.

To you, Maggie’s been nothing but kind and honest. You knew she felt very lonely. You even told her how much she’d like Glenn. And she expressed shame for having mentioned “there aren’t a lot of options,” to him. So, maybe in her mind was the whole ‘I could die tomorrow’ thing, too, but now she’s rethinking certain choices in hindsight.

“Are you really mad at me, Y/N?”

Oh, Glenn. “You ain’t done nothing wrong to me.”

“But we used to, y’know…like each other.”

You make a (pretend) pout face. “True, and we still do, just in a different way.” Part of you did feel a little hurt at first, but that doesn’t really apply. This isn’t about you.

There’s silence, only mildly uncomfortable.

“Dude, I’m really glad you’re my friend right now,” he then sighs, wiping his eyes and standing up. “There’s no one else I could tell about this.”

“Dale or T-Dog,” you remind him.

He shrugs. “But they’re not our age. Dale would tell me how stupid it was, and T-Dog’s, eh, he’s kinda churchy.”

Rude. “ …Yes.”

He shoots you a glare when he hears you agree, then realizes he low-key put down T-Dog for something you share in common with him. But when he sees your attempt at a good-humored grin, he offers you a sheepish smile in return. “Sorry.”

Now’s a good time to playfully tut, “Dale and him are the best of us. If one of them chides us, we’ve earned it.”

The two of you keep quiet for a few moments. You turn back around and try to get that mare’s attention, but no luck. Glenn comes back and joins you, trying to get her to come over by making more kissy noises like she’s a cat.

“You talk to Lori, Y/N?”

“Oh, Teddy told me she wanted to see me. I’ll find her later. She okay?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, she seems cool,” comes out a little quick and forced to sound normal.

“Glenn, is she okay?”

In lieu of a reply, he tosses a pine cone at you and cracks up when it bounces off your forehead.

“I suppose…now I get to tease you about you-know-what,” Glenn pokes fun. “’Cause other than Carl, now you’re probably the only person here who’s still one.”

“Razz on this prude all you want, buttface, you won’t get nowhere,” you snark right back. “Okay, my ears are ringin’. I know it’s still daylight, but I really need to lay down awhile and eat. I gotta head to my tent.”

“Yeah, I might as well head back, too. The horse doesn’t want anything to do with me. Maybe that’s Maggie’s horse.”

“Glenn.”

Him

There they are, finally.

They’d walked off talking to the Chinese kid — shit, sorry, Glenn — about something. It looked like something serious. Whatever it was, Glenn was all red, he could see that all the way from his tent.

Now the two of them are marching back to the tents so slow it’s like they’re in a funeral procession.

He finishes up his cigarette and grabs the rest of the eight-pack so he can head over to the fire by the RV and the rest of the tents. A ‘pragmatic’ beer had been Y/N’s specific word for it, what they were gonna need if they were gonna tell him whatever lead to them asking for a cigarette and liquor yesterday night.

After how today went, with that storm pausing and fucking up their search efforts, a beer sounds good even if they don’t tell him the dirt.

It’s nice having an actual friend.

You

You two walk back slowly. Glenn asks if you’re okay, you mention you think you overdid it.

Shane is showing Andrea how to use the rifle again, you see them over by the picnic table.

Dale is inside the farmhouse with Rick and Lori, you’re pretty sure — never mind, Rick is by the far side of the house talking to Mr. Greene about something. But Carol’s not near the fire or the laundry spot like you’d expect. Oh right, you were gonna find Lori, she wanted to talk, right, right.

“Wait, first let me show you what I found for you today.” Glenn starts to lead you to the RV, then mutters to himself, “The one thing I didn’t mess up today.”

“Stop kickin’ yourself, man. You’re not a bad person.”

“You’ll forgive me once you see th — whoa,” he cuts off.

“Glenn, there ain’t nothing you need to apologize to me f — oh, wow,” you cut off just the same.

The RV is spotless. It’s like a whole different place! Homey, clean, organized, smells like Fabuloso. This had to have been—yep, there she is, mending something the back.

Carol.

Him

He notices Y/N goes to walk away but Glenn stops them and waves them over to the RV. Watches as Glenn jogs up the steps and suddenly freezes at the door.

That’s probably because Carol was in there and had cleaned up the RV so much it looked like a different place.

He next sees how Y/N follows and peeks over the Chine — Glenn’s — shoulder, probably to see why he paused. After less than a second, they quickly slide around him and rush inside, which was most likely them giving Carol a hug.

He feels his cheeks heat up; Y/N is gonna notice the flower he gave Carol in the dumb beer bottle vase (he’s regretting not waiting for Y/N to find him a nicer vase now, yeah).

They’d be happy he gave it to her and told her the story, even if he did kinda have to chug the beer in that bottle to calm his nerves and all that first. At the time, he’d figured the bottle was as good a vase as any.

Oh, right, the kid’s Korean, isn’t he? Not Chinese. Y/N tried to make that clear on one of their first hunts together back at the quarry.

“It would kinda be like sayin’ a French person was German, you feel?” they’d pointed out. Truth be told, he didn’t really care much about or know much about the major differences between Frenchies and Krauts, neither.

He could tell they were skeeved at first (maybe ‘concerned’ was a closer word for it) but then they’d given him this little smile that was almost playful, as if they figured Daryl simply hadn’t known or had just made a crappy joke. At any rate, there was no, uh, what’s the word? No ‘condemnation’ is what he’s getting at.

He’s pretty sure that moment when he decided Y/N was good people.

Either then or when the little fighter kid Luis scraped his knee and rolled his ankle. Y/N was with his older sister, soothing him and doing first aid stuff while Carl and Sophia got the parents.

He himself happened to have been taking a smoke break close to where the kid tripped, so heard Y/N hush, “Eliza, cover your ears with your pointer fingers. Okay Luis, buddy, you get to call the tree roots you tripped over one bad word of your choosing, just whisper it quietly so you won’t owe a quarter!”

He didn’t understand what the “won’t owe a quarter” part meant until he helped the kids learn to throw a punch a couple weeks later. He also couldn’t hear which bad word the little guy chose, but what he did know was that it had made Y/N crack up and start laughing.

“What word did he pick?” he grunted at them later in passing.

At first, Y/N looked surprised that he was talking to them, but then snorted and started to giggle again. “‘Ass-butt.’”

“I can’t get me in on that, can I?”

Back to the present, Daryl blinks out of that — what does he wanna call it, ‘cute’ memory? — and doesn’t reply to T-Dog in any way other than to crack open a beer with his skinning knife and hand it to him without looking. T-Dog shared those expensive brand cigarettes with him, so why not return the favor?

“Thank you. Gotta love a good SweetWater,” T-Dog sits down and sighs, rubbing the back of his forearm that got sliced open two days ago. “It’s nice you found glass bottles. Always preferred ’em to cans.”

Grunting back at T-Dog in agreement, he offers a flat “Cheers.”

“Yep. Cheers, man.”

He’d found and kept a glass bottle eight-pack he’d pilfered on the highway that day, right before Sophia got chased off. Figured he save them for when he wanted to get shitfaced a special occasion. And yeah, SweetWater was pretty good, Georgia pride and all that.

Glenn is on his way to the fire, now. Y/N isn’t with him, so they must still be in the RV with Carol.

The kid glances at Daryl, then looks at T-Dog and chooses to sit closer to T-Dog.

Daryl isn’t sure why it’s getting to him. Isn’t he used to it? Hell, he prefers it, right? Nobody was gonna care about him but his blood, his own. But now that Merle was gone…fuck it, he takes a gulp of his beer and stares into the flames.

T-Dog offers Glenn some of his beer and grins, surprising Daryl by extending the grin to him like he was in on a joke. (And yep, there go Daryl’s cheeks fucking with him and getting all red again).

“Or do you still want us to not ‘ever, ever, ever let you drink again,’ ain’t that right, Glenn?” T-Dog teases.

The corners of Daryl’s mouth peek up. As shit as the CDC ended up being, the stocked bar was rad and the way the kid acted when hungover was funny.

Glenn takes a gulp of the beer, hands it back to T-Dog and makes this awkward half-giggle thing. “That morning was still the sickest I’ve felt in my life.”

Across the way, the front door to the house opens up and the teenage boy walks out.

He’s got a pitcher of orange stuff and seems to be heading to the tents (?). Then, he walks to the fire. Sure enough, the teenage boy offers them the pitcher. Sounding nervous as hell, he first mentions to maybe not let the old farmer guy see the beer, and the second thing he asks is to sit down.

Turns out, he really wants to talk with T-Dog about college ball.

Huh, T-Dog used to play? Cool.

You

“He’s a good man.”

“Yeah.”

Carol sniffs and starts to well up again. “It was so unexpected from him.”

“A beer bottle vase, though, very on-brand,” you quietly remark, smiling. As heavy as is the dread and shame you feel that Sophia hasn’t been found yet, you’re so happy that Daryl followed through and gave Carol the flower and told her the story. Thinking about it is giving you a warmth in your chest.

“You didn’t put him up to it?” she wonders softly.

“He knows I was aiming to find you a present while we were out, if we, um, I thought it would be nice…” to bring you back something if we didn’t find your daughter. Biting your lip as you tug at your ears to try to fix the ringing, you figure you’ll mention, “All I found that I knew you’d get use from was an unopened box of—oh Moses, why am I spoilin’ the surprise? Carol, you’ll find out later.”

Just because it’s a simple box of peach tea doesn’t mean it can’t remain a surprise.

She smiles back. It’s pained and sad.

“But,” you add to make sure she knows, “The flower, that was all Daryl.”

She look down at her lap, then look back at you, head tilting. “Where did those clothes come from, Y/N? Never saw you wear those. I would remember those jeans, I miss higher-rise pants.”

“Found them on the search today. What I was wearin’ got filthy and sopping. And I don’t even wanna see the state of my eyebrows.”

Her smile warms into something less pained and more warm. “They look like ordinary eyebrows to me.”

You shift in your seat on the bench trying to get comfortable. Your stupid ears are ringing so loudly. “He, um, he told me something I think you need to hear, if he hasn’t told you already. It, oh, it might could’ve been private, actually, I ain’t sure,” you mumble to yourself before stating, “So it’s just for you, Carol, okay?”

She shakes her head, though. In her hesitant, soft voice, she says, “Keep it private, in that case.”

Your cheeks heat up and shame pokes you in the forehead, but you ignore your conscience because you still think she should hear about when he got lost for nine days.

“It changed my outlook,” you start to press — but she doesn’t budge.

“Y/N. He trusted you enough to share it. Don’t betray that.”

Oh, man. Posture hunching in earned embarrassment, you nod. You offer her an apology and a thank you. Where did your sticking-to-privacy thing from fifteen minutes ago run off to?

Carol’s hand clasps yours, then she appears to remember something.

“Lori was looking for you earlier, wanted to talk. Oh, and Glenn, right…” With a kiss on your head, she gets up and heads to a cupboard. You, feeling self-conscious, pop over to the RV mirror and see with great (AH!) horror that you look…like you’re woozy, haven’t slept enough in a few days, and recently got caught in a rainstorm. Makes sense.

Meanwhile, Carol opens one of the locking cupboards and asks, “Are you feeling okay?”

“A tad spinny,” you explain. “My ears are ringin’.”

“‘Spinny?’”

You shrug.

“Dizziness is usually a cause for concern, maybe you need to eat.” She pulls out a paper bag from the cupboard. “Glenn was probably coming into the RV to give you this, he found these for you on the run today.” She hands it to you. “What is the name of the short-haired girl he went with, Y/N? She must be around yours and Glenn’s age.”

“Margaret. She goes by Maggie,” you fill her in and start to unfold the paper bag. “And yeah, she’s only two-ish years younger. I’m excited to see what’s in the mystery b—oh, thank God!”

Him

Following that happy little screech that all four of them heard from the fire, Y/N came jogging out of the RV, hand on their side while holding a brown paper bag, and zipped straight to Glenn. From there, Y/N began babbling in that twang of theirs, all excited about said paper bag full of: (wait for it) pill bottles.

Carol came out after, slower, and choose her seat near Daryl’s (?) side.

Surprised, he offered her a beer. She shook her head at first, then a minute or so later shyly asked if it was okay that she changed her mind; he gave her the bottle and half-listened to Glenn and Y/N.

“Dude, 500mg pills, these are perfect! I took four in the RV, to hell with what that much magnesium will do to my digestives, I think I’m in the prodrome phase of another…”

Apparently, Glenn brought them back eight bottles of something that helps with migraines, plus a prescription, though he didn’t know if it was the right type or dose. While them and Glenn jabbered on, Carol started working on dinner (it’s oatmeal). Y/N and Glenn helped with whatever she directed, still chattering like chipmunks.

Suddenly, Y/N is walking over on their knees to tell him, “I got me all the fixings to kick a migraine’s butt, so guess who can help with the search tomorrow? They also found batteries for the third walkie!”

He keeps his cool and ignores how his cheeks warmed yet again. Like, is he really that starved for attention or whatever? “Can’t wait,” he drones back.

“We’ll do our sweep of the road off the trail?”

He nods. “Then there’s this high ridge I wanna check out. We get up there, should be a bird’s eye view of a lot of the grid.”

“Deal.”

He grabs the beer he’s been keeping for them. Offers it.

“Maybe later. I took a bunch of painkillers earlier and now I feel weird. Best to wait.”

He tries to make a funny by using that word from yesterday by replying, “How pragmatic.” He feels dumb after.

You

Ha, a ‘pragmatic beer.’ Ignoring that you told him you’d need one in order to tell him what was bothering you the other night (because it meant telling him about the guy you’d shot), you instead think about what you and Carol discussed.

It’s nice to see someone blossoming the way he is.

There’s Shane coming back with Andrea, he was teaching her gun safety over at the picnic table. Your brother sees you and sits next to you.

After telling you he’s glad you’re back in one piece, he starts to ask about the day. “Hey, where’d those… ” His gaze hardens as he stares at your new clothes and then at Daryl for a split second before he changes his expression to a casual one. “Check out the horses with me?”

He helps you up, briefly voices worry about why you’re dizzy and have ringing ears, then as soon as you’re out of earshot murmurs, “Did somethin’ happen while you were out with him?”

“No.”

Shane speeds along. “He hurt you?” he stresses under his breath. You aren’t surprised he’s concerned about that specifically.

“I promise, no. We ran too hard, my stitches started bleedin’ a little, it stained what I had on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Slow down,” you pant. You can’t keep up with his pace right now.

He stops walking and rests his hands on his hips. “Sorry.”

You don’t feel so good. Cupping your head in your hand to try and steady the spinny feeling, you answer, “C’mon, you know I would’ve made him bleed if he tried, Shaney.”

“Good.” He inhales. Smiles to conceal his seriousness. “Just glad you didn’t get swept off in no flash flood.” And when he goes to fluff his hair like he usually does — he’s met with his freshly buzzed head instead.

At first, he appears as if he’d forgotten it was gone. His gaze turns into that 1000 yard stare. Shaking his head slightly, he grabs the chain around his neck and fiddles with the ‘22’ pendant.

“Let me in on that, looks fuzzy,” you lilt. He bends to let you try. It does feel nice and fuzzy. The way his eyes warm helps him look more like himself.

“More self-defense practice tomorrow, okay? Dependin’ on when or if you get that migraine. That you’re injured is good; you need to know how to fight back either way.”

“Glenn found me migraine stuff at the pharmacy today,” you hesitate. His little nod indicates he understands that this news means you intend to go out and search again. “After we get back, though?”

His appearance changes. A different man is standing there than your brother.

The man opens his mouth. “We shouldn’t still be out looking for her.” And the man keeps talking about “After 72 hours, I hate to say, it ain’t fair, but it’s over,” and “the good of the group,” but you stop listening. He notices.

You don’t understand this new side of him. He’s been revealing this calculating, inhumane coldness. It doesn’t look or sound like your brother, but it’s becoming more and more what you can see of him.

That is to say, you feel like you can’t see him. Not that he’s gonna do something bad or get worse, but it’s a cause for concern and you don’t know how to help him.

You start to walk away, the vertigo worsens. Close to you is…oh.

Otis’ cairn. Bowing your head, you swerve to it and try to pray for a bit, mull things over.

After a while, you stand up from your crouched position. Shane’s hand softly touches your back, stopping you from wavering when you stand up.

His voice sounds more familiar when he quietly says, “Let’s go inside and see the doc, Y/N, get you checked out.”

Him

Now they’re inside the farmhouse with their brother, visiting with Carl.

And Daryl’s just out here…

He really wants a third beer.

He *grumble* gave a beer to Andrea after she sat down by the fire. He’s got three left.

The sun is still out, low by the horizon. Whatever, it feels like damned 2am.

The door to the house clicks, he blinks and looks over (in excitement? Why was he all excited, is he eight?) but sees Dale come over from wherever he was. Not Y/N.

Daryl gets up and plops onto the ground; he’d been in Dale’s chair.

He then *grumble* offers the old man a beer. Dale declines (phew), thanks him, and settles in his chair.

Looking around, he then…hides the remaining beers behind Dale’s chair. The old man sees. He smiles to himself and gives Daryl a gesture of “I didn’t see anything.”

Dinner’s ready. Carol, Andrea, Dale, and Glenn leave to eat in the RV.

T-Dog eats with him outside by the fire, but not five minutes passes until a moth lands in his oatmeal. Tossing the glob that the moth touched into the fire, he then stands to go into the RV and waves for Daryl to join.

Daryl doesn’t want to, it’s too close in there and he has nothing to say and they won’t want him in there.

You know, he’s still got three left from his eight-pack. One was for Y/N, which means he could have a third if he wants. They’re his damn beers, after all.

Ugh, he probably shouldn’t have a third beer of his own.

… …

He really wants a third.

Maybe he can go inside and see the kid, too? Tell him all about the search today?

Nah, fuck it.

Nobody wants him in there. Nobody wants him out here, neither, probably. Nobody ever does. Plus, he failed at bringing the little girl back again, he ain’t got shit to talk to people about, he’s…

He really wants that third beer. Maybe a fourth.

Or maybe something stronger.

But when exactly he started heading toward the house after hiding the remaining beers in his tent, he can’t pinpoint.

You

“You’d be fine without, but it won’t hurt to have you take this down. I’d prefer if you did,” Mr. Greene states, mixing the black powder into the glass of water with a straw.

Once he deems it sufficiently combined, he clunks it down onto the table, adds a touch of powdered Tang and stirs more. “Activated charcoal does not taste pleasant, it will cause your bowel movements to temporarily turn black, you may have a stomachache, and it may either make your stools loose or potentially constipate you.”

…lovely, thank you.

Your brother doesn’t snicker, to his credit.

How did this evening turn into this? All you wanted to do when you got back from the search was see your Carl and crash.

After Shane brought you inside the house to see the doc, you’d willfully stumbled your way to Carl’s room, waved hi to Dale, and complimented Carl on his new, massive (read: Rick’s old, well-fitting) hat. Your nephew commented about how him, his father, and you all have relatively matching scars.

“Now we don’t have to get matching tattoos when I turn eighteen, the scars are way cooler.”

“What, you’re reneging on the tattoos, punk?”

As you started to tell him all about the search that day, the dread and upset you felt last night and today fizzled away. That’s just what being around him does for you.

Though you personally don’t think it was a sign of Sophia, you told them all about the little bed made in the pantry and the freshly opened and eaten can, “of sardines, who would’ve guessed our Soph liked those?”

Carl made the sweetest little “bleh!” in response.

Your brother leaned against the wall in silence.

That’s when Lori came in with Patricia and some supper for him.

Dale left the room, citing his stomach was growling so he was gonna head back to the tents for some dinner, too.

Shane also slipped out after giving Carl a quick wink, but soon came back with Hershel, who asked you to join him in the dining room.

A blood pressure test (A-okay), quick questioning about how many ibuprofen you took, if you “consumed any alcohol with your friends out there by the campfire? And what about Jimmy?’ and what your symptoms were followed.

You adjusted your accent and used standard grammar in an attempt to feel less like an idiot on trial.

You didn’t think you’d taken too many, but when you guesstimated after thinking back on how many you shook from the bottle…not that it was dangerous, you hadn’t taken enough to be in serious physical danger, but it was enough that your body is telling you you done bad.

It was irresponsible, and you could feel Shane’s disappointment. That shit can mess up your kidneys and stuff down the road, not to mention the faster toll on the stomach lining.

And now you’ve got a glass with muddy black liquid (you can pretend it’s coffee?) and the stern gaze of a veterinarian who’s likely physically exhausting himself trying not to roll his eyes.

You blink down at the glass.

Looks...foamy. Like something that came from an oil refinery or a coal mine.

The doctor continues to, um ‘counsel’ you, his patience seeming on the thin side. “Take it all down. The straw will help.”

“Thank you. S-sorry.” You’re grateful the straw pipes all the grittiness directly to your throat.

“Long-term, even something as unassuming as over-the-counter pain management can adversely affect you. Surely you are aware of that and are aware of how serious those effects can be.”

“Is that tone really—”

You hush your brother and put your hand on his wrist as if to say it’s cool.

He licks his teeth, nods once to you, gives a terse “Hershel,” to Mr. Greene, and goes outside.

“Left my thinking cap in the tent this morning, I think,” you play it off with the doctor, feeling as if your 2 decades plus a few years on this earth were more akin to 2 years and a few months. This is made worse when you awkwardly add, “I also lost my baseball cap out there today.”

Patricia quietly exits Carl’s room and rubs your arm in passing. “Make sure Lori sleeps in tomorrow, okay?” she whispers.

Mr. Greene is still peering at you. “You were crouched by Otis’ memorial not twenty-five minutes ago. Were you in prayer?”

You nod and shrug.

Maybe your chair will melt with you into the floor? Please?

He’s still sitting rigid as a board, but his brows get less angry-looking. “I have known you for barely two days. But I have always been truthful with you, even when it meant saying something that I knew might be difficult for you to hear.”

True. You recall well how he was delicate but honest during Carl’s emergency.

His tone is somehow gentle and scolding at the same time. “I sincerely hope you will do likewise for me.”

“I don’t like dishonesty,” you mumble. You’d be a little offended if the situation for him wasn’t that a group of armed individuals were now camped on his front lawn and had lead to the death of someone he considered family.

“My first questions is: are you dating the Asian boy?”

Okay, not what you were expecting. You start to giggle until you realize, oh shoot, did Maggie tell him about what they did? Oh my God, oh my God, nooo, don’t ask, don’t ask me, Mr. Greene!

“Maggie assumed the same thing,” you have the brain to say, and it’s true. “Glenn is my friend only, no romance.”

Praying he won’t ask about Glenn and Maggie next, you take another few gulps of the charcoal mixture to and can’t help but make a face.

His expression is still curious and stern. “Did you consume any alcohol this evening with your friends?”

You shake your head. “I felt too strange.”

“Did Jimmy?”

“I don’t think so? I only saw him drinkin’ Tang.”

He nods. Seems to soften maybe a pinch. “Certain supply chain changes mean I won’t bother asking you about any drug abuse in your group. Not including your oversight with the pain management today.”

Point taken, sir. Then, you realize he was making a wry comment. The corners of his mouth raise and his eyes crinkle just so.

Relaxing, you offer an embarrassed shrug.

“The most important thing I want to know is,” he begins. Pauses. He’s maintaining very direct eye contact with you.

What the heck does he want to know? The muscles in your neck tense back up, uncertain.

“Can I trust Rick?”

Well, that was so easy the reply jumps out of your mouth. “Yes.” Ha, that was weirdly stressful for a s—

“And Y/N, is your other brother a cause for concern?”

...

Shane?

A tiny seed of dread starts to take root in your gut.

Why would, why is—wait, why haven’t I answered? What the heck is—why aren’t I answering? Hello?

There’s a clock someplace close. It’s louder than you remembered.

Answer something. Y/N. Y/N, go on.

A door opens, shuts, and what sounds like Lori’s footfall tiptoes down the hallway.

‘Is your other brother a cause for concern?’

She brushes her hand across your shoulders as she passes.

He’s your brother. He loves you, you love him.

Y/N, what are you doing? Please answer. You know him.

Why isn’t it working when you try to answer? Y/N!

The clock keeps ticking. The front door opens and closes as Lori exits the house.

“Please continue to finish that solution,” is how Mr. Greene, his tone kinder than it was before, breaks the silence.

...............................................

Wave hi to the Morales kids! Just don’t tell Eliza that Luis said “ass-butt.”

Taglist (inbox me if you want in)

@spenciepoo338 @its-freaking-bats

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merakiui · 4 years ago

Text

[2] 𝔹𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 & 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘳

yandere!xiao x (gender neutral) reader cw: modern au, yandere, kidnapping/captivity, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dark/violent thoughts, mentions of death/murder, mentions of weapons previous chapter → [bitter & sweet]

“This place is huge! How do you keep track of everything?” Ajax comments as he surveys the various doors that run down either side of the hallway. “So many rooms, too. Makes me feel lost just looking at it.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Xiao gives a brief summary of each room before gesturing to the one at the very end of the hallway. “I shouldn’t have to say this to you, but since you’re just a kid I’ll say it anyways. Don’t interrupt the meetings, especially not when Morax is part of them. When you follow me into my meetings, you’re expected to be quiet, sit still, and listen well.”

Ignoring the not-so-subtle insult, he asks, “Morax? That doesn’t sound like a name native to Liyue.”

“And neither does yours.”

Ajax chuckles, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I’m not from here. I moved here last year and I thought it’d be fun to pick up some work. It gives me a chance to practice my language skills when I’m interacting with the locals.”

Xiao rolls his eyes, continuing onward towards his destination. This sour man chose to work because it’s fun? There hardly seems to be any logic in his words, but it isn’t any of his business to agonize over what it could mean. He opens a door to reveal a small office, complete with a mahogany desk, shuttered windows, filing cabinets, and a leather armchair. When he and Ajax step inside, the door shutting behind them, the taller man whistles.

“This looks nice. Is this where I’ll be working?”

“No. This is my office. When you aren’t stuck in those cubicles, you’re going to be in here. Morax wants me to keep an eye on you while you’re shadowing me and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Ah.” Ajax flops down in the armchair, crossing one leg over the other as he circles back to his boss’s namesake. “By the way, why do you call him Morax? When he interviewed me, he introduced himself as Zhongli.”

“It’s the name I choose to call him.” Xiao’s eyes narrow at the way Ajax so carelessly stretches, practically sprawling like a cat. “It’s none of your business, so don’t worry about it.”

“Then let’s get to know each other! We might as well if we’re going to be seeing each other for the next three months.”

“I’d rather not.” Xiao dips behind his desk, opening one of the nearby cabinets and searching for a file.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you? That’s fine. I can do plenty of talking for the both of us.” Ajax chuckles when Xiao glares at him again. He clearly hasn’t taken hint that he should shut his mouth. “Where I’m from we don’t usually see nice weather. There’s always snow and ice. It’s way too cold, so I’m glad to be in Liyue where the climate’s warmer.”

His chatter falls upon deaf ears when Xiao finally retrieves the file he was looking for. He crosses the distance between the both of them, handing the Manila envelope to him. “Take a look at these figures from last month and write up a report based on your findings. I’ll deliver it to Morax so that he can judge you on your economic literacy.”

“That’s boring. I already showed him everything in my portfolio and he knows what I’m capable of from the things on my resume. Isn’t there anything better I can do? Something a little more exciting?”

“Just get it done. Stop wasting my time.” Xiao pinches the bridge of his nose as he wishes his secret would appear out of thin air to chase his irritation away. “Additionally, later in the week, there’s going to be a meeting on last month’s revenue and the impact our social media websites have had on consumers. Be prepared to take notes on every topic. Morax is always open to new ideas, so if anything crosses your mind don’t hesitate to share it. I hope I can trust that you won’t act foolish and will remain professional throughout the entirety of the meeting.”

He’s reminded of his hatred for interns at once. Having to explain everything in such detail is tiring, especially when he isn’t one to speak many phrases at once. Although he would rather lay the ground rules out now instead of minutes before an impending meeting. Xiao is not one to sacrifice diligence for the sake of his own selfish desire to keep his lips sealed. He figures it would be beneficial to tolerate these bothersome explanations, lest his boss tower over him with new questions. As kind and generous as Boss Zhongli may be, he has a tendency to show a little more care where Xiao and his mentality are concerned.

That wouldn’t have been a problem in the past, but now that Xiao has found himself trapped in a web of secrets he must be cautious when sharing information with his boss.

“Your words wound me, coworker. You can rely on me. Aren’t we friends?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, you’re too mean.”

This is going to be a long three months, Xiao thinks.

And throughout the course of the next two weeks, Xiao settles into a new routine. He follows it expertly: wake up, listen to you as you make promises to stay within the apartment, head to work, suffer through Ajax’s horrid conversation starters, and then return back to his quaint slice of heaven. He’s complained to his secret about his coworker, not at all pleased that he has to watch over such a sour young adult. It’s as if his boss wants him to hold his hand the entire time he’s working, softly encouraging him to do his best.

Such a perspective on work is juvenile.

The only thing keeping him sane is his secret. It’s something he thinks about every day. When Ajax tries to convince him to get drinks or when he attempts to put off his work in favor of idle chit-chat, Xiao’s head is filled with images and memories of the past two months. As long as he thinks of what waits for him at home, he’ll be fine. His heart is secure and his sanity remains intact like an old jar that has withstood the cruel test of time. Surely even the most starved man can survive if he considers his desperate need for food.

And if you long for something day after day, you’re bound to find it eventually.

With the end of the week drawing near, Xiao is patiently awaiting the moment where he’ll be able to clock out and ride the train home. He’ll spend the next two days in tranquility, cooking meals to the best of his ability and watching the morning news with his secret. It’s truly an ideal lifestyle.

“I’ve got the papers you requested,” Ajax says as he pokes his head inside Xiao’s small office, successfully pulling him from his innermost daydreams. Fresh from the printer, the pages are ordered by number and warm to the touch. The report he struggled to finalize is within his grasp in physical form. Xiao has learned that, despite Ajax’s rambunctious personality, he has displayed a few instances of his conscientiousness. And for that he is eternally grateful. “You sure write a lot.”

Xiao shrugs as he flips through the papers, relieved to find that everything is how it should be.

“I overheard a few coworkers talking about a company party. We should go together!” At Xiao’s skeptical expression, he shakes his head. “Not like that. I mean, you’re really the only guy I talk to here. Other than Boss Zhongli and maybe some of the women. And it’d look sad if I showed up to a party all alone.”

“Then you’d better get used to being alone.”

“Harsh.” He sighs. “You’re colder than the snow in Snezhnaya.”

“If you’ve got nothing better to do, be quiet and read the newspaper or get lost. I’ve got work to do.”

He grins, glancing around the room as if he expects his superiors to suddenly appear out of thin air before pulling out his phone. “I’m not an old man like you, Xiao.”

“If you’re going to use your phone, do it somewhere else.”

“I won’t bother you.” His eyes are glued to the screen while his thumb swipes through various applications. “It’s my break anyways.”

“Then go spend it in the break room,” he snaps, mustering another stone-cold glare. “Or better yet, leave the building and get lunch.”

“No can do, pops. I’d rather spend it with you.”

Xiao sighs and turns away from Ajax, his gaze settling upon the screen of his computer. So much for a relaxing afternoon at work, he thinks, somewhat irritated at the fact that the intern has become unusually quiet. He’d rather have a silent Ajax than one who speaks of every single detail regarding the office and the differences between Liyue and his home country. It can be quite bothersome when he’s caught up in his work, focused to a deadly degree, and Ajax decides to break that concentration with his nonsensical ramblings. Though they have only been acquainted for a few weeks, it’s clear that their personalities do not mesh. And Xiao surmises that they will never, ever mesh.

But for the sake of pleasing his boss and finishing the workday without any stress, he’ll force it to work.

“Here’s a fun psychology question,” Ajax prompts, azure hues centered on Xiao. “Do you think more kidnapping victims are killed by their captor or are they lucky enough to survive? How many are rescued and how many escape?”

“That isn’t just one question.”

“Well? What’s your take on it?”

“I’m busy.”

“Come on! You’ve got to have an opinion. This is some serious stuff and from a psychological perspective it can determine whether or not you’re morally good. At least, that’s what I think.” He turns his phone screen in Xiao’s direction. “I guess Liyue has a dark side, too. On the way here I saw a lot of missing persons posters. Kind of sad when you really think about what happens to them.”

Xiao catches sight of the screen for a split second and he’s almost certain the face of his secret is staring back at him, smiling in an old class photo. Something about the irony of this situation tugs at his nerves, clawing into his brain and bouncing around like unsteady static on a TV screen. The sour person sitting before him is not a friendly ally, nor is he a coworker he should continue to converse with. In order to preserve the life he has crafted with his precious secret, his steps should be measured precisely down to the decimal.

That photo doesn’t look right.

Old memories settle into his cortex like oil on water, so potent and vivid. If it were up to Xiao, he’d use every method in the book to rid himself of his coworker in the pursuit of absolute secrecy. He blinks to clear his disturbing thoughts and when he examines the screen once more he finds the face of a person who bears no striking resemblance to the light of his life.

“Some of them look really young, too. Do you think these people are still alive? Or are they just resting in some trash bags and the authorities haven’t found them yet?” A frown tugs at Ajax’s lips. “The world’s just not fair.”

“It’s never been fair.”

Vaguely, like blurred glass that has been colored sloppily, he recalls shouting voices and a fight that ended in lonely despair. The hand that had reached out to him, pulling him further from the light and into the dark, murky underworld of crime and hatred. And the way in which he navigated this new world, lost and alone—stuck with horrific sights and scattered dreams—was a reality he couldn’t dream of escaping. Small, tender hands were stained red and his eyes grew accustomed to the sight of mangled corpses.

It was a bland, monochromatic life.

Xiao may not remember the faces of his victims, but he could picture their wounds with ease. He used plenty of gruesome weapons back then: box cutters, knives, and a hammer. He shot a gun once but could never hit his target and so it was decided that hand-to-hand combat was better. It was more efficient if he came within close proximity, wired to the brim with a euphoria that could power even the oldest of machines.

And as he envisions these bloodied carcasses, he thinks of the ways in which he could dispose of Ajax. He’s a tall man with a hidden strength. He could probably subdue Xiao with brute force, using their differences in height to his advantage. Xiao wonders if he should learn how to aim a gun. Perhaps long distance is better in terms of killing Ajax. A pistol might work. Like any firearm, it requires time to reload after the failed rounds and even then it’s not guaranteed that he’ll have the luck of firing a fatal shot. In the end, wouldn’t a bat suffice? Xiao is nodding to himself as he considers this. A wooden baseball bat can bring a person to their death if there’s enough force and speed exerted into the swing. All he has to do is break one of Ajax’s legs to get him down to his height and then he can bash his head in to finish the job.

Problem solved. Crisis averted. His secret remains in the depths of his glass heart, safely tucked away like a canary in a cage.

Even now Ajax is contemplating something, though it’s far from the murderous tendencies Xiao is reflecting on. The shorter man exhales and his memories fade into obscurity once more, where he’s now free to observe his coworker’s forlorn expression. He is handsome, in an obnoxious sort of way. Xiao’s certain he could easily talk to anyone in the company and they’d gladly welcome the conversation. He’s heard a few coworkers gush over Ajax’s attractive qualities and work ethic at the coffee pot each morning. His reputation has become blindingly shiny ever since he joined, so he wouldn’t have any issue finding a few friends to accompany him to the upcoming party.

Xiao wishes he would just disappear. That would make his life so much easier.

“Ah, sorry! I totally spaced out just now, didn’t I?” Ajax shows off his pearly whites in a sheepish smile. “I guess I got a little sad. It’s just scary to think about. I’ve got siblings at home and I’d hate to imagine any of them getting kidnapped…”

“Then don’t think about it.”

“Maybe I should stop looking at those posters. It’s just—I don’t know. What’s the word? Tragic? Unfortunate?” He glances down at his phone and tuts. “Looks like I won’t have any time to give it some thought. My break’s ended, so I’ll leave you to your old man stuff.”

Xiao sighs when Ajax stands up and makes his way to the door, hardly sparing him another glance before shutting it. He leans back in his office chair, exhausted and itchy. His vision is foggy with all sorts of strange urges and he finds himself pulling up a missing persons database, which is open to the public and free to search for every child and adult who may have disappeared in Liyue. His thin fingers spell out the full name of his secret and the screen loads for a moment, nearly almost buffering, before a list of names and faces show up. Yours is among the few who are similar only in spelling and he clicks on your profile.

It’s a simple thing, really. Your name and the date you went missing are on full display, accompanied with a photo of your face, a downloadable poster, and a short description of your physical features and where you were last seen. He finds himself skimming through the paragraph, not all that interested in facts he’s already well aware of. Scrolling up to the top of the page, he stares at your photo with intense scrutiny as if possessed by a sense of gripping paranoia. There’s no doubting that that was the image he saw on Ajax’s phone. It was as clear as glass—a graduation outfit from a class photo. The resemblance is uncanny, yet he refuses to believe it. Surely his own worries are beginning to manifest in the form of optical illusions.

Xiao, afflicted by the citrus flavor of lemon, clicks out of the website.

When the familiar color of his door greets him, comfort floods through his overworked muscles and he’s put at ease. His key turns in the lock and the door opens in the same fashion it always does. When he steps into his apartment he follows his routine: lock the door, take off his shoes, and find his secret. Only this time an eerie chill has settled within the apartment; it’s almost devoid of life altogether. A deafening silence engulfs him and his fingers curl tightly around his key ring.

“I’m home.”

The lights are off, save for the one that flickers in the kitchen, and he moves through the hall at a brisk pace the moment he senses it. His heart rate spikes and he feels as though he could slip into cardiac arrest with how fast it’s beating. He throws open the nearest door and searches with manic intensity. You’re not there. He moves to his bedroom, peering around for the outline of your figure in the darkness. Xiao takes one look at his closet and yanks the door open, flipping the light switch and illuminating the small space. He rifles through the clothes with no luck. You’re not here either.

Your sweet presence has vanished, having dried up like a fish on a sandy shoreline. Only bitter emptiness remains. And he’s left with the painful realization that you’ve disappeared. You are not here.

Not here. Not here. Not here.

Xiao stands in that space for a full minute, listening to the clock on his nightstand as it ticks out the seconds. His heart slows, nearly on the verge of flatlining, and he pivots, intending to check what’s left of his apartment. His worst fears are confirmed when he finds the kitchen to be empty. The countertop is clean and lacking any sign of your gentle touch. You haven’t cooked anything yet. You’re gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

For the first time since he kidnapped you, Xiao sinks into an emotion that’s so acidic it threatens to burn his taste buds. His eyes land on the knife block sitting on the counter, filled with blades of varying sizes. Grisly thoughts crawl into the dreary expanse of his mind, poking at his logic until it’s turned to mush. The static returns in full force, buzzing like a colony of irate wasps as he reaches for the largest knife. His fingertips brush the handle and he thinks of his secret, unearthed and spoiled before the world’s hateful gaze, and he just wants to—

“Xiao?”

He’s never turned so fast in his life before. Standing there, having emerged from the bathroom, is his secret. And you’re safe, untouched by the despicable hands of those icky people who would take you away from him without a second thought. People who would sour your sweetness with their dirty claws and gnashing fangs.

His eyes rove your form to confirm that what he’s seeing isn’t just a figment of his imagination. You’re real and very much present. You haven’t run off like he originally presumed. But as his gaze fades in and out of perception, weaving colors and distinct sounds together as though it’s a quilt with incomplete patterns, he finds that you’re wearing your graduation attire. Not the stained uniform from your job. Not the one he manhandled when you desperately fought against his hurtful grip. And then he blinks and exhales slowly through his nose, and the image before him is gone.

“Don’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry.” Not entirely certain of the context for your apology, you approach him. “Um… Welcome home! I was actually washing my hands so I could start cooking.”

“I’ll make dinner. You can sit over there and watch TV.” He brushes you off as if you’re a speck of dirt, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table and loosening his tie. He releases a heavy sigh. Everything’s okay. You didn’t run away; you stuck to your promise. Xiao can vaguely place the feeling that slows his heart. It must be relief in the purest form and even though it’s meant to relax his jittery nerves it doesn’t feel as good as it should. “Don’t move from that spot.”

“Are you sure? I can help. You’re always working, so I thought you might like a break from the—”

“Just sit there and don’t get in my way.”

His vision betrays him as he glares at you, the corners darkening and splitting like shards of glass. He wonders whether he should show you some kindness at this moment, but all thoughts of sympathy evaporate when he spies your downcast expression. It’s your fault he was so ready to dissolve into a maddening concoction of murder and deceit. He was on the verge of feeling an emotion he can’t quite process. It’s something he hasn’t experienced in a long time—something so potent it should be confined in a lab, locked away and labeled to the highest degree of toxicity. His mouth tastes unbelievably sour, almost like bile, and he grits his teeth.

He’s only ever known the frigid bitterness of isolation.

Nodding, you trudge off and Xiao’s sweet secret remains inside this sunny paradise for another day.

next chapter → [bitter & fruity]

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere xiao #bittersweet secret #bittersweet secret chapter two

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howaboutcastiel · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 369 times in 2022

That's 365 more posts than 2021!

143 posts created (39%)

226 posts reblogged (61%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@romanarose

@toracainz

@my-secret-shame

@howaboutcastiel

@joyful-soul-collector

I tagged 151 of my posts in 2022

#moon knight - 126 posts

#steven grant - 110 posts

#marc spector - 104 posts

#jake lockley - 87 posts

#moon knight x you - 67 posts

My Top Posts in 2022:

Make Your Acquaintance (Jake Lockley)

Summary: Reader is in an established relationship with Steven and Marc but has never met Jake before and is intimidated by his reputation. When an emergency requires Jake to take control for a while, you decide that it's time to introduce yourself.

Make Your Acquaintance Masterlist

I know the gif is Poe Dameron don’t come for me.

Word count: 5.5k

Content: brief violence and gore, reader is injured (not life-threatening) angst, fluff, whatever. Poor use of Spanish. Gender neutral reader.

Note: I don’t know what this fic is. I don’t know who it’s for. I just kinda wrote it. Drink up boys. Also thank for 100 followers! I am not worthy!

See the full post

1,161 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

All I Desire (Steven Grant x Reader)

Word Count: 6.3k (I'm a mess)

Summary: Reader has not been in a relationship in a while and is scared to have sex with Steven for the first time. After learning of your fear of intimacy, Steven decides to plan an all-out date night to show you that you have nothing to worry about.

Pairings/Warnings: mentions of past relationship trauma, kinda angst I guess, fluff, smut (duh), plot with porn, Soft Dom! Steven x (afab) Reader, p in v, oral (f receiving), no Marc or Jake but both mentioned. Language is gender-neutral apart from anatomy.

Note: Not proofread. How do y'all just shamelessly write smut all the time I feel like I just killed god

See the full post

1,393 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

Two Steps Forward (Moon Boys)

[18+ content minors leave please]

Summary: A fun night with Jake ends up backfiring as Marc is triggered to front mid-coitus.

Content: Smut-ish, Angst, Fluff (the holy trinity). Handcuffs, impact play, getting triggered during sex, yelling and sad times. Reader is in an established relationship with moon boys.

Word count: 1.9k (aka the closest to a drabble you’ll ever see from me)

A/N: honestly this shouldn’t exist but now it does. Read it and weep. Also google cleared all of the formatting so UGH may be some mistakes.

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1,721 notes - Posted July 28, 2022

How Do I Ask? (Marc Spector x F!Reader)

[18+] VERY NSFW PLEASE GO AWAY CHILDREN [18+]

Summary: Marc is usually the one to initiate sex. At this point, the reader doesn’t even know how to seduce him (it usually doesn’t require any effort). When the reader wants a change of pace from him, though, she must deal with the conundrum of being the one to make the first move.

Word Count: 5.4k

Based on an anon request! Lots of love to that mystery person <3 I took some… liberties with the plot. Reader is my body type so sorry skinny gals and NB/FTM babes.

Content: Smut, Like a lot of smut, porn-IS-the-plot kinda smut. Protected sex (we’re not getting pregnant in THIS economy). Oral (M), roughness, a little bit of angst but it's horny angst. Oops there's 2k words of foreplay you can skip that if you want.

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2,041 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Not My Intention (Moon Boys x F!Reader)

Content Warning: mentions of physical/mental abuse

Word Count: 3.1k

Request (Abbreviated) @twhgirl

Could you write one moon boys x female!reader, where they've been dating for a while… They notice she gets anxious and startled very easily, but when they bring it up she always brushes them off so they don't pry. They don’t know she's previously been in an abusive relationship. And maybe they're at an office party and some guy comes to her when she's alone and the boys get jealous since it's obvious he's trying to flirt with their girl.

Content: Angst!! Fluff, poorly translated Spanish (obligatory) this shit is pathetic and soFT (not a comment on the recommendation just my writing) reader is dating the entire MK system

This is the first time I’ve tried to write in omniscient 2nd person so forgive me if I mess up the perspective somewhere <3 Thank you for the request!!! Much appreciated

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2,803 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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weirdmageddon · 4 years ago

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five years too late let’s analyze this. the commentary has gotten me back into gravity falls reigniting thoughts and insights i came to years ago

i love everything about this commentary in general it hits the points of humor, genuine analysis of the characters, but most of all im so glad hirsch addressed that the droid not detecting any fear from dipper here doesnt make any scientific sense because that was a massive CinemaSins moment for me

IDK the fact that dipper can fucking stand after an airship crash because theres a bigger threat at hand is literally one of the defining capabilities owed to adrenaline lol...... IM SORRY im a biopsychology student if i dont point that out iwill seethe and die because that was just . its a grudge ive held for a long time about this episode but didnt rant about because it was something so minor and i’m sure nobody would care.

i was 13 when this episode came out and i’m almost 19 now, i had a special interest in biology and i still do but now i’m actually having college classes in biopsychology so i can give my arguments more oomph now. and i have to say, now that i know more about the brain and autonomic nervous system the more this scene bugs me, if that was even possible. and it says a lot of dipper and ford’s relationship.

if dipper clearly wasnt calm before, why would he be now just because he’s put up an outwardly confident facade? before he was in the flight but now hes in the fight. my boy just rode on top of a spaceship by nothing but a magnet gun that could detach at any time if it failed and then the ship crashed, he sustained injuries, is in emotional turmoil because he thinks his uncle is Fucking Dead and the threat of a security droid that detects adrenaline is on his tail and produces a Big Fucking Gun in response to dipper saying “i hAvE a MaGNeT gUn” and hes screaming and has his teeth clenched but sure there’s no adrenaline coursing through his body in that moment i can totally believe that

when dipper asks what happened, ford says “the orb didn’t detect any chemical signs of fear, it assumed the threat was neutralized and self-disassembled” but i don’t think measuring someone’s heartbeat alone is particularly relevant in detecting ... chemical signs of fear?? they dont really tell you this shit but noradrenaline (and maybe adrenaline too if the acetylcholine from sympathetic outflow always activates the adrenal medulla??, theres two pathways) is always active in small quantities to make sure your parasympathetic nervous system doesnt slow your heart to dangerous levels on its own, regardless of your emotions. it’s just a homeostatic mechanism. your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems are CONSTANTLY modulating control of your organs on a see-saw, literally with every breath you take. simply standing upright causes specialized mechanoreceptor neurons in blood vessels to signal your brain to project signals to release catecholamines via the sympathetic nervous system to constrict your blood vessels so that blood is able to reach your brain and not pool in your legs. i have a deficiency in my body’s ability to adapt to this which is why i know so much about it. if i stand up my heart races to compensate. i’m not feeling fear, my body is just adjusting—albeit grossly and incompetently lol.

but what im saying here is that the security system is flawed. it’s a cool idea to have security droids detect fear, but in practice by detecting adrenaline, and not even directly by detecting the molecule itself—it’s done in a roundabout way by reading the heartbeat, could be a recipe for false alarms. like what if someone’s on beta-blockers. that’s not really an adequate way to measure “fear”; there’s so many variables that could interfere with the measurement the farther you abstract from what you’re really trying to detect. and besides, adrenaline is NOT just a sign of fear, it’s just for preparing the body for action. i know the sympathetic nervous system and adrenaline is constantly linked with the “fight-or-flight” reaponse to a stressor, but 99.9% of the time the sympathetic nervous system is used in your life is to balance out your parasympathetic nervous system to maintain homeostatic equilibrium for mundane things.

i think detecting amygdalar activation would be more efficient in detecting fear. the amygdala sends projections to the hypothalamus which then in turn modulates the autonomic nervous systems. but the amygdala is intensely activated specifically in response to a fear-inducing stimulus (it does activate in response to other emotions but they’re mostly negative and is most activated by startle and fear), and wouldnt be highly activated by many other confounding variables like measurement of the heartbeat could be. the amygala is one of the first stops directly from external stimuli.

to show you how integrated the amygdala is as the first step in registering fear after receiving input from sensory stimuli let’s look at the auditory-amygdala connection for example

see how the auditory thalamus projects to the primary auditory cortex and auditory association cortex? the cortex is where conscious awareness of what the stimuli is comes from. this is the “high road”. it goes sensing -> perception -> emotional response. but sometimes you can be startled without even processing what it is you’re sensing, like the startle response of an alarm or a phone ringing in a quiet house before you even register what it is. this goes sensing -> emotional response, without perception happening until after you’ve already felt the startle. that’s when it takes the “low road”. here’s a simplified version:

even if that were the case with these droids though it’s obvious dipper is still fearful on some level here. his body language, voice, expressions all give it away. for the amygdala, aggression isnt too off from fear so it would be detected equally.

the reason this is so important is because ford uses this as evidence for why dipper is special, “i did it?” “you did it. this is what i was talking about, how many 12 year olds do you think are capable of doing what you’ve just done?”

but like....did he really? i’m not saying this to shoot dipper down or make him out to be more of a wuss, he was incredibly strong-willed here and i dont want to take that away from him because it WAS growth on his part. but the underlying psychophysiological reactions of aggression and fear shouldn’t be that different and this was a total asspull. maybe the droid was so old that it fucked up. maybe dipper being covered in grime and dirt made it harder for the droid to measure the correct heart rate through photoplethysmography (im assuming since they use a camera and are non-contact).

and in all honesty everything i just said brings into question the interpersonal healthiness of ford’s judgements, what he thinks, his expectations, and how he communicates that. in this video alex already talks about how ford is projecting onto dipper. and i think ford may be projecting his expectations for himself onto people who are not him, and the fact that it’s on dipper here makes it far more unfortunate. you realize how much this boy idolizes ford, right? how much impressions matter? dipper even tells himself before he leaves in this same episode, “all right dipper, this is your first big mission with great uncle ford. don’t mess this up.”

even though it’s unstated, the implicit message dipper is perceiving from ford based on their dynamic is: “do you have what it takes for me to be proud of you?” and to accomplish this he must be like ford, even though he’s clearly not and he knows this. he says “i don’t think have what it takes. i was tricked by bill, i was wrong about stan’s portal, heck, i can’t even operate this magnet gun right.” then, by simple chance without even knowing what he did, he activates the magnet gun and pulls out the adhesive, which immediately takes the focus away from what dipper was telling ford about his feelings of inadequacy to ford saying, “yes! dipper, you found the adhesive!”

these thoughts of dipper’s hang in the air without resolve or comment from ford. we don’t know what ford would have said. but it then becomes painfully self-evident in the scene immediately after when the droids emerge and ford tells dipper, “they’re security droids and they detect adrenaline. you simply have to not feel any fear and they won’t see you”, to which dipper replies with an exasperated (and rightful) “WHAT?”

dipper goes in a panic trying to indirectly tell his uncle that this isn’t something he can do. and he is completely right and valid to be freaked out by that full stop. that IS crazy. you can’t control your fear. you can control how you interpret that fear in your higher brain regions but the physiological changes will stick around for longer than it takes to cognitively calm down. it’s easy for me to detach from my emotions to analyze them, but being able to do this does not come naturally for everyone. even i have an irrational fear of wasps and i can’t control it by detaching myself, my body is just automatically primed to get the fuck out of there. i know it’s stupid and i know it’s irrational and isn’t helpful to get myself worked up but i literally can’t stop how my body reacts no matter how i cognitively think about it. expecting composure from dipper in a situation like this when he’s being made to consciously be aware of his anxiety is absolutely fucking insane. look what you did, placing these cruel expectations on him, now he’s afraid of being afraid! this isn’t a case where two wrongs cancel out, they just stack on top of each other.

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there’s a good reason these scenes were put side by side but it seems up until now it had remained unanalyzed.

what dipper fears from ford is disappointment. not living up to his uncle’s (quite frankly badly placed) expectations for a twelve year old with anxiety. not once did ford say or subliminally communicate “i don’t expect you to be able to do what i can since you are not as experienced as i am and that’s perfectly okay, no judgements”. you don’t put a child on bike before training wheels. you don’t throw a kid into a swimming pool without giving them swimming lessons. the way ford is doing it, there’s no room for trial and error or mistakes that are an opportunity to grow and learn; instead, it’s life or death. he only seems to pride dipper on what he can do while ignoring the underlying struggles that plague him and never making it known it’s okay for dipper to fail in front of his hero and that he won’t think anything less of him for it.

and that’s why i found the ending scene for dipper and ford’s adventure in this episode to feel so.. wrong. on a scientific and social level. because by the sound of it ford focused more on what dipper had done to dismantle the droid (the droid not detecting any fear) instead of how dipper displayed love and protection for him even if he was truly afraid. what if the science was accurate and the droid detected adrenaline while dipper was confidently standing up for his uncle. would ford still be proud of him regardless?

#can you tell how i’m similar to ford but also so different like i said in that other post lol #gravity falls #analysis #dipper pines #stanford pines #long post #gf #gravity falls meta

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butgilinsky · 4 years ago

Text

'cause maybe then you'd want me just as much // np

warning; heavy language, toxy relationships, love triangle to an extent, throwing up, mentions alcohol a lot, mentions of smut but nothing explicit, there's one make out scene in it, angst angst angst this is straight angst, i think that's it?

summary; after your split from Nolan, you can't seem to find a way for both of you to be happy. when you meet his girlfriend for the first time, everyone seems to think you've developed a crush on her. based on the song girl crush by little big town.

word count; 15.6k+

a/n; he baddies, so this is a lot. one thing i wanted to say quickly is that this is mainly a nolan fic, but there are heavy joel x reader themes throughout. a bit of a love triangle but that's not entirely the focus of it. so if you're here for a nolan fic, here ya go. if you're here for a beezer fic, strap in it just takes a bit of time to develop to that point(: enjoy!

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

“You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too.” your eyes instinctively rolled back, the anger burning in your chest only growing at his attempt to confront this situation head on. He had a tendency of doing that, going at something full force with little to no thought of how it’ll actually end up.

“That’s a stupid saying! Why would I want the cake in the first place if I can’t eat it?”

“Can you dissect the english language another time and just listen to me for once?” the scoff that tumbled past your lips was subconscious, something you couldn’t stop yourself from. “All i’m saying is-”

“I get it, Nolan. I won’t give you the satisfaction of claiming me in front of the entire world, and now you’re walking away from me. If you can’t tell everyone that I’m yours then it means I'm not, right?” his shoulders slumped, his chest deflating as your words resonated in his mind.

Truth be told, Nolan didn’t give a shit what other people thought. He didn’t care about other people’s view of him, nor did he care about their validation. All he wanted was to be able to tell his friends where he went after each of his games, who he spent his nights and mornings with. He didn’t want to keep lying about why he bought enough groceries to feed more than one person, or who called him when he was on the road.

He understood at first, why you wanted to keep things to yourself. For a while, he agreed with you. He didn’t want your friends to get in the way either, though the group the two of you were in made that slightly difficult. They thrived off of teasing each other, and the two of you did your fair share of teasing as well. One thing Nolan didn’t want was for his friends to make the two of you feel as if this was all a mistake. He didn’t want you to have to face any scrutiny from the team or anyone else, so the two of you agreed to keep things just between the two of you.

That all turned to shit around six months in, when Nolan stopped getting excited about slipping out of his apartment unseen or arriving at the rink just in time for him to duck underneath Claude’s radar. The secrecy wasn’t fun anymore. He didn’t need a label, didn’t need you to commit to an entire life with him, but he wanted to be able to show up to functions with you under his arm. He wanted to see you wearing your Patrick jersey outside of your apartment.

He wanted you to be his girlfriend, and he wanted everyone to know about it.

Nolan knew there were things that had happened to you in the past that made you hesitant to climb aboard. He tried to be patient, tried to give you the time and space you needed to get you to where he stood. But months passed and you never got there, and he was starting to lose faith that you’d ever get there. He was starting to think he was waiting for something that was never going to come.

“I’m not sneaking around anymore. You can decide what that means, but I refuse to have these secret rendezvous where I can’t even tell people where I’m going. We don’t have to put a label on it, I’ll wait an entire lifetime if I have to for that, but I’m sick of the lying and scheming and secrecy.” he didn’t know what was more important to you at this point; being with him or making sure you kept all of your walls up. He did know what his priorities were, where he stood on the subject matter, but that wasn’t enough anymore. Now it was up to you to decide where the two of you lie.

“So what’s it going to be y/n?”

The last time you had gone through a break up, it had hurt a lot less than this. The weeks following the split between you and Nolan had been harder than any breakup in the past. Maybe the thing that was making all of it worse was the fact that you were suffering in silence. Nobody knew about you and Nolan in the first place, so nobody knew about the breakup that wasn’t actually a breakup.

You didn’t see him for two weeks after he’d walked out of your apartment. You couldn’t bring yourself to go to his games, and you denied all of the team’s invitations to go out with them. Even when Joel and Travis showed up to your apartment with several bags of take out food and tried their best to pick your brain about what had been going on with you, you fabricated a story about how school and work were mixing together in an unappetizing way.

It was easy for the most part, to blame your mood on schoolwork. Most of the flyers had no idea how stressful college could be, given that even the ones that were in your age range had never gone to college. Apart from a few of them like Joel, who had spent a year in college before being drafted, they assumed that school was everything you said it was. So any time they invited you out and tried to tell you that you couldn’t come up with any more excuses, a simple lie about a project being due soon would fend them off for a few days before repeating the process.

You finally agreed to go to a game when Joel needed a last minute ride to the rink, which ended in him convincing you that since you were already there, you could stick around for the game. You were sure that he had planned it all out, no doubt with the help of a few of the guys in order to be convincing enough, but it worked. It got you in the seats where most of them stopped by to wave at you during warm ups.

The smile that crept onto your lips when Nolan scored was subconscious. You couldn’t help but smile and clap for him, a warm familiarity swimming in your chest. Normally you’d meet him at your apartment afterwards, sharing toothy smiles and sensual kisses that never failed to turn into more. Your bed was familiar with Nolan, claiming half of itself to be side and clearing out a space on your nightstand for his phone and water bottle.

But you couldn’t do that anymore, Nolan wasn’t yours to take home anymore. While the realization was tough to bear, you simply wiped the smile off of your face and barred a neutral expression for the remainder of the game. You clamped your lips shut in a tight line and kept your deafening thoughts to yourself.

Your life had made room for him, a space for him to slide in without much effort at all. Your routine molded itself around Nolan being there in the mornings and nights. It started as little things like buying a second phone charger to plug in on his side of the bed. Then it turned to buying double the amount of groceries and recording his favorite shows on tv. Then he had a toothbrush next to yours on the bathroom counter and a bottle of body wash next to your shampoo in the shower. They were little changes here and there that somehow made it feel like Nolan practically lived there.

Even if the words were never said out loud, you and Nolan had broken up. It was hard to wrap your head around, how you could break up with someone without even realizing that you were dating in the first place. It shouldn’t have been so detrimental to lose him, to not have his hips snapping into yours or wake up to him brewing coffee in your kitchen. It was never supposed to get this far, was never supposed to be a tale of two friends that pined for each other enough to cause these waves. It was what you had done your best to avoid over its entirety, but you failed.

And now you had to pretend as if none of it had ever happened.

“Get out of the car, y/n.” you rolled your eyes at Joel’s attempt to sound stern with you, given the look he was sending you through the door frame. His eyebrows were raised and his hands sat on his hips, as if he was your angry mother that was dragging you to soccer practice on a sunday morning. “You have five seconds or I'm carrying you inside.”

“Jesus, Joel I just dropped my chapstick, chill the fuck out.” he rolled his eyes but smiled when you began climbing out of the car.

It was almost painful to convince you to come to Claude and Ryanne’s cookout, an event you normally wouldn’t miss for the world. If this were three months ago, you would’ve been happy to oblige. You’d steal glances across the yard at the boy who was more often than not already looking at you. Maybe you’d meet up in one of the empty rooms far enough from everyone else that they wouldn’t hear you sharing affirmations or other things not appropriate for a family friendly cookout with practically everyone you knew in Philly.

But you knew when you woke up this morning that that wouldn’t happen. You don’t live in the past and you’re no longer able to share stolen glances and smiles with the blue eyed boy who had stolen your heart without you realizing it. Instead you’d be forced to act as if nothing had happened between the two of you. It was easy at games, given that you never truly had to talk to Nolan, but today wouldn’t be that easy. You were certain that at some point you’d have to talk to Nolan in order to eliminate any suspicion about the two of you giving each other the cold shoulder.

You had mentally prepared yourself for the disaster you may or may not encounter, the feelings that were bound to throb in the back of your mind upon seeing the boy with shoulder length hair and a voice that never failed to send a chill down your spine. What you hadn’t been expecting was the petite blonde girl tucked into his side, the one with bright blue eyes and a smile that surely had the entire room smiling right back at her.

The weight of the situation hit you at full force, almost knocking you off of your feet before you even stepped onto the grass in the backyard. You asked yourself if there was any way you could escape, any way you could find a last minute excuse and run out the door before he even saw you but then you remembered that Joel drove you, and there was no way he’d take you back now.

That, and Nolan locked eyes with you before you could form a coherent thought that might have gotten you out of this situation. He looked thrown off, like he hadn’t been expecting you to be here. He looked down at the girl beside him, painfull aware of how this all looked to you and finding a million and one things that he assumed were running through your mind.

“You alright?” your eyes flicked up to meet Joel’s that were flooded with confusion and worry at the sight of you clearly thrown off by something. But then you coughed and shook your head, forced a smile to the surface and told Joel that you were perfectly fine.

You were fine for a while, assuming you could just stay away from them and everything would be okay. If you didn’t have to talk to her, didn’t have to hear about her or anything that had anything to do with her, you’d be fine. You could handle the avoidance of eye contact with Nolan and you could push your feelings below the surface for the time being.

Unfortunately for you, she seemed to be just about the nicest person on the planet and felt the need to introduce herself to everyone in her general vicinity. You were walking back out of the house, your fingers wrapped around the neck of four different bottles before she popped up out of nowhere and offered you a bright smile.

“Hi! You’re y/n right?” you nodded gently, pushing a soft smile to the surface to humor her. “Thought so. Nolan’s told me a lot about you. I’m Mackayla.”

Aside from the fact that she was definitely the last person you wanted to be talking to right now, she was dangerously nice. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the appeal. Her long blonde hair was beautiful, and you were sure by the way she was gently gripping onto her cup that she was gentle in all walks of life.

She was nicer than you’d wished she’d be. It’s as if you couldn’t find a flaw about her, other than the boy she chose to latch onto. It’d be easier if he was smiling all the same, if he was looking at her the way he used to look at you, even if nobody noticed. You’d be able to live with it if Nolan looked just as happy with her as he did with you, but he didn’t.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his hands were always shoved into his pockets or running through his hair. His knuckles went white from his tight grip on his better bottle, and you just knew. You knew that the way he looked at her held little to no weight, not when compared to the way he’d look at you with your head on his chest or his in your lap. If you didn’t know what he looked like at 2 in the morning over a plate of waffles the two of you were sharing. If you hadn’t heard the laugh that bellowed out when you stared at him in disbelief for eating the last bite.

You wondered if she knew that he’d rather waste money on overpriced sushi than order a pizza, if she knew that rubbing his temples and scratching his scalp helped soothe his migraines. Did she know that he’d talk about the things bugging him if you just gave him space for a minute or so and let him collect his thoughts? Did she know that he kept a bottle of ibuprofen in his nightstand and one in the center console of his car?

You doubted she knew these things, because you knew Nolan was oblivious to you knowing these little things. He didn’t know you’d picked up on these small details about him because you didn’t voice them, you didn’t need to. You got his favorite coffee creamer without asking him what flavor he wanted, keeping it in your fridge at all times just in case. You made sure not to steal the black hoodie that always laid over the back of his couch, because you knew it was his favorite and if you had ever taken it he’d lose his mind.

You made sure that Nolan was taken care of, that you never acted out in a way that would negatively affect him. And as much as it hurt to stand in front of his new girl and act as if you didn’t know all of these things about him, you’d do it for him. You swallowed your pride and forced a smile so that nobody picked up on anything for Nolan’s sake.

You were doing an okay job with faking a smile and listening to Mackayla talk about the things she’d done with Nolan over the weekend. You’d learned she was from Georgia, though that much had been obvious from the southern drawl in her voice, and it only led you to wonder how she even met Nolan in the first place. Was she staying at his apartment while she was here? Did she sleep on your side of the bed and eat the granola bars that he always bought for you without a second of hesitation?

You were doing fine, until you noticed Nolan’s eyes glued to you. He was watching you, whether it was out of fear of you falling apart or stepping out of line in front of her, you weren't sure. Maybe he didn’t trust you with the girl he was trying to use to get over you, and maybe he was concerned for your well being, but you had a fairly good guess as to which one it would’ve ended up being.

So with the best excuse you could muster, you politely told Mackayla that you had to deliver the beers slotted between your fingers and ushered her back in Nolan’s direction. He tucked her under his arm just like he had when you first arrived and sent you one last careful glance before turning away from you both figurative and literally.

When you got back to Joel and dished out the beers you promised everyone, you pressed your own against your lips and downed half of the beer in one go before Joel forced you to stop.

“Woah! Try not to drink your weight tonight, yeah?” you rolled your eyes and fought back the groan that threatened to slip when Joel pulled your bottle away from you. “Breathe for a second.”

You tried to ignore Travis and Karly’s concerned looks, confusion setting in for both of them when you offered a smile in place of an explanation. They didn’t question it, knowing better than to dig too far into the reason for your actions. In an attempt to take the focus off of your odd behavior, Travis offered a change of conversation. Though it would’ve been better if he had chosen a topic that didn’t directly relate to your sour mood.

“So Mackayla’s pretty nice.” Karly hummed, eyes locking with yours for just a second. Her motive was innocent, simply offering a skepticism about a new girl being introduced into the mix, something the two of you usually had when any of the guys started dating someone new.

“She’s pretty.” you shrugged gently, attempting to offer an innocent enough addition to the conversation that wouldn’t force you to endure too much more of this conversation.

Joel gasped gently, eyes panning down to you while a smirk creeped up his lips and firmly planted itself on his face. “Do you have the hots for Patty’s girl?”

Your eyes blew wide and while the only thing running through your mind was how wrong Joel is, he mistook your shock for fear of being sniffed out so easily. It didn’t help that Joel had been your wingman on more than one occasion, always doing everything he could to snag you someone worthy of time.

“Bee-”

“You’re so into her!” you groaned at Travis bouncing in excitement, only calming down when his girlfriend dug her elbow into his ribs.

“I do not have a crush on Mackayla.”

“Who said anything about a crush?” Joel’s smile ignited a fire inside of your chest, an aggravation that had you clenching your jaw and rolling your eyes. He sucked his teeth and pressed a hand to his chest, a far off look settling in his expression. “My baby’s growing up.”

“Shut the fuck up, Farabee.”

Unfortunately, you were unable to convince Travis and Joel about your feelings towards the girl, or lack thereof. You couldn’t exactly tell them that you weren’t anything less than envious of her, that you kept looking in her direction because she seemed physically incapable of leaving Nolan’s side. You couldn’t tell them that you were truly looking at Nolan, that all you wanted to do was tell him that everything that’s happened was severely miscalculated on your part.

While Joel and Travis were painful at times, they were your best friends. They were attentive to your feelings more often than not, even if they miscalculated them here and there. Joel slipped you a few more drinks throughout the night and Travis made sure you never had an empty cup in your hand. Karly kept a close eye on you, worried about you quickly tipping over the edge if no one paid attention. She wasn’t convinced by the story of your crush on Mackayla, but she wasn’t sure what was truly bothering you so she did her best to make sure you stayed away from the ledge.

After two cups of the punch that Jake brought you were taking deep breaths in the bathroom, mustering up the courage to go back out and face the music. With every twinge of alcohol that infiltrated your system your shoulders slumped and you forgot about the pain that resonated in the back of your mind. It was easier to not look at Nolan every few seconds when you partially forgot that he was even there.

However, just as you opened the door to step back out into the house, the door was pushed wide open and Nolan stepped into the small space with you before shutting the door behind him. You were caught off guard, not having been this close to him since he walked out three months ago. It was almost nice, you almost let yourself slip a smile but then you were painfully aware of the way his forehead creased in frustration.

He saw your mind go over ninety different thoughts, your face showing off just about every emotion you were feeling when you felt it. It was hard for him to stand his ground, to not reach out to you and press a soft kiss against your forehead at the sight of you stressed out about something. But then he remembered why you were stressed, why he came up here in the first place. He remembered how you told him you couldn’t be with him, how you broke his heart.

“Why are you in here, Pat?” he flinched at the name, having not heard you call him that since before everything had unfolded between the two of you. You never called him by his last name, nor his hockey nicknames. Not after you’d been trapped between him and his mattress far more times than you could count.

“You talked to Mackayla earlier.” you hummed, rolling your eyes when you realized what was coming.

“So you saw me talking to your girlfriend earlier and now you’re wondering if I told her something she’s not supposed to know. If you’re wondering what we talked about then you can ask her, because I honestly couldn’t remember if my life depended on it. I stopped listening to her after she told me that you’ve told her a lot about me.” despite the way his eyes changed, darkening ever so slightly and pupils dilating, Nolan looked unphased by your confession.

“She’s not my girlfriend-”

“Then what is she? She’s clearly something since she’s here at your captain’s house. She’s visiting from Georgia for fuck’s sake, Pat-”

“So you did pay attention to her.” as fucked as it was, Nolan smirked at the realization that you still cared. Despite everything you told him, every time you said that you needed things to be a secret and that you couldn’t open up that part of you, he was elated to find out that you had a soft spot for him.

“Do you think it’s funny? You think it’s funny to watch me fall apart right in front of you? I’m trying so hard to keep myself together, and then you bring her here and wave her around in my face like you deserve an award for moving on.”

“I had no idea you were coming.” you wanted to laugh, wanted to scream at the top of your lungs that he had to be joking right now. But you didn’t, you held the laugh in the back of your throat and you opted for a vocal level that wouldn’t travel downstairs for everyone else to hear.

“That’s bullshit! I know you’re lying to me because Joel showed me a string of texts from your group chat of everyone saying that they were excited to see me. You know why he showed me that, Pat? Because I needed the motivation to peel myself off of my couch and start hanging out with my friends again. You know, i’m doing everything I can to hold it together but it’s really fucking hard when i can’t even be vocal about the fact that I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“Oh, don’t put that shit on me. You wanted to keep us a secret, so that means your heartbreak is a secret too. What do you want me to do about it? Help you through it? You want me to help you get over me? This is me trying to do that. I’m trying to move on, and you should be trying just as hard.” that almost hurt more than figuring out that he had deep rooted feelings for her. To know that she was your replacement, the one that was meant to help him get over you, that was much worse.

“But that’s the thing, Nolan! I don't want to get over you!”

“Well you have to! It’s too late to make up for all of the shit we’ve already been through. The damage is done, so you need to let me be happy without you.” your heart sank at the revelation, the look of defeat that sat on his face and told you that there was no going back. There was nothing you could do that was going to backtrack from this.

So you reached around him and grabbed the doorknob, twisting it as quickly as you could and slipping out of the bathroom just as quickly as Nolan had slipped in. You ran down the stairs fast enough to miss the sound of him slamming his fist into the countertop, the guttural groan that left him as he broke down in the room you left him in.

The good thing about the alcohol induced daze you were in was that your tears could’ve been due to anything. They could’ve been from someone taking your white claw away, and while you were sure you could find an excuse for crying, you knew that you wouldn’t need to when you saw Joel’s face.

“Can we go?” he nodded without a single question, promising you that it had been well over two hours since he had had a single sip of beer. He turned to Phil and told him to tell everyone they left but to leave out the part about you standing in front of them with wet cheeks and red eyes.

He didn’t ask you what was wrong, didn’t ask you to fess up to your crying fest in the car. He simply drove around the city until you had let out every tear and choked sob you could manage. He knew that part of it was spurred on by your blood alcohol level, surel exceeding the limit to drive, but he knew there was something you weren’t saying.

While not many people other than the people in Joel’s close vicinity had seen you crying just before your disappearance, a few did. And while nobody knew what it could have possibly been caused by, Karly watched Nolan descend down the stairs a few minutes after you had with an expression much different than the one he wore when he went upstairs. His cheeks were red and blown out, a dead give away for him being angry. It didn’t take her long to put the pieces together, to realize that you weren’t looking at Mackayla all night but rather the boy who had an arm draped around her shoulder.

You hoped that maybe you’d never have to see Mackayla after that, that she’d return to whatever town in Georgia she came from and stay there. Maybe even if she was around, you wouldn’t have to be around her. If Joel and Travis wanted to believe that it was from your attraction to her then so be it, just as long as you didn’t have to witness Nolan giving someone else the affection you craved from him.

But time passed and Mackayla stuck around. She stuck around for a few more months, visiting Nolan far more often than you would have cared for. She was around more than you wished she’d be. She was nice enough for everyone to like her, though it was kept at a surface level. Joel still picked your brain about your supposed crush on her, dropping hints in various conversations about it.

“So I was talking to Mack the other day-”

“Who the fuck is Mack?” it was a reflex, popping your head around the corner and shooting Joel a confused look across the room. He was leaning back on your couch, waiting for you to come back with the popcorn that was currently popping in the microwave.

“Mackayla…” Joel’s voice trailed off as he turned over his shoulder, his smirk all too irritating for you to not roll your eyes.

“What, the two of you are best friends now?” if Joel didn’t know you so well, he’d think you were jealous. He did, to an extent, think that you were jealous of him for being close to Mackayla, which was somewhat amusing for you.

“Chill, y/n/n. I’m not going to steal her away from you. She’s all yours, after she’s Patty’s.” it was meant to be playful, meant to bring a soft laugh out of you. Joel had no idea that he was just digging the dagger further into your heart, twisting it violently at the mention of Nolan and his girlfriend that seemed to be here to stay for much longer than you originally expected.

She showed up at games that you quickly regretted attending, wearing a jersey that you recognized all too well, having a few matching ones lining the back of your closet. You played nice though, letting her ask questions about you and answering them with the best answer you could offer at the time. You even went to grab drinks with her during the second intermission.

It was almost laughable, how oblivious she was. She was nice and in any other scenario where she wasn’t dating the boy you were hopelessly in love with, you probably would have liked her. There was nothing wrong with her other than her love interest, and the fact that she was oblivious to everything around her. You thought it was innocent at first, maybe even cute, but then she offered you a bright smile after you had calmed down from celebrating Joel’s second goal of the night and told you that the two of you would be a cute couple. Not only did it make you laugh, but the way she wiggled her eyebrows and told you that she could help you make that happen made you sigh in realization that she truly had no idea what mess she had walked into.

You hadn’t realized that Karly had caught onto your distaste for her until you announced that you had to run to the bathroom and Karly jumped up before Mackayla could even think about it and hooked her arms in yours. You sent her a puzzled look laced with a soft smile until she raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips in a way that told you exactly why she volunteered to go with you.

She let you break down in the bathroom, confessing that the mere sight of her made you nauseous. You told her about the history between you and Nolan, the way that you fell in love with him without even knowing it. You told her how you messed it up, how you did something that he couldn’t forgive you for and before you were able to tell her that you didn’t know how you would fix any of it, she told you that there was no way in hell that this was irreversible.

She’d seen the way you looked at him, the way he looked at you and the way he looked at her. In her mind, the choice was clear. Mackayla was no match for you, not even close. She didn’t bring any of the things to the table that you could, despite her being a good person. She wasn’t a bad person, but you were made for Nolan. Even Karly could figure that one out.

So you let her drag you to a bar with the team afterwards. You let her ring up a tab for the two of you and slip you drinks throughout the night without thinking much of it. Sure, Mackayla and Nolan weren’t very far away, but you knew you wouldn’t have to watch them do much more than things you’d already seen. You knew they wouldn’t dance, since Nolan would’ve preferred to drink everything behind the bar than dance in public.

It made you think about the times he danced with you in the kitchen at 3 am when soft music was pouring out of his phone and encapsulating the two of you in your own bubble. Neither of you were ever fully dressed, wearing things that you picked up off of the floor before cooking an entire meal in the middle of the night. Those nights were your favorite, when he did things that only you had the pleasure of experiencing.

It made a familiar feeling stir in your stomach, one that had you pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as you rushed towards the bathroom, passing the line that formed against one of the walls. Karly apologized to everyone who you had unintentionally skipped, though they all waved her off and claimed that you clearly needed it more than they did.

You were relieved when you got inside, able to breathe while also getting the nausea out of your system. Karly stood guard, only opening the door to yell at someone that had been knocking for the past three minutes.

“It’s fucking occupied- Patty?”

“Move.” you coughed at the sound of his voice, your throat constricting in a way that was involuntary. “Karly, seriously-”

“Nolan that’s not a good idea-”

“I can get her to stop.” Karly’s words paused in her throat, uncertainty flowing through her but when she heard you dry heave for the third time, she stepped aside and let Nolan come inside.

He gently pulled your hair out of your hands and grabbed the hair tie around your wrist, throwing your hair into the quickest ponytail he could in order to get it out of your face. His hands fell to your sides, slipping under your shirt without much effort at all and providing your skin with a newfound warmth.

He’d done this before, that much was obvious to Karly with the way you easily melted into his touch. He wasn’t doing much more than Karly could do but she knew that it was the feeling of his hands that grounded you, rather than physical touch in the general sense. If it wasn’t Nolan it wouldn’t have worked, and that gave Karly everything she needed to know about how you felt about her boyfriend’s best friend.

“You’re okay.” he whispered softly, letting you fall back against his chest and curl up into a ball on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom. He rocked you gently, almost unintentionally, while he kissed the back of your head gently. “You’re okay.” he repeated, feeling you relax into his hold afterwards.

Karly was stunned to say the least. She had never seen you react like that to anybody, let alone when they were that close to you. She was used to seeing you shove Joel or Travis away from you when they tried to baby you, claiming that you could hold your own and didn’t need them to help you through things. But here you were, melting into Nolan’s hold without a second thought.

“Thank you.” you whispered gently, despite the fact that Nolan was inherently the reason you were in this position. He didn’t know that, assuming your physical reaction to be from the alcohol you had consumed.

“I’m going to go get you some water.” Karly whispered softly before slipping out of the room, but not leaving until she threatened anyone else that tried to usher you out of the bathroom.

“You didn’t have to do that you know?” it was soft and broke through a thick silence after Karly had left, but it was enough for Nolan.

“I know I didn’t, but I care about you and I know that Karly’s clueless when it comes to things like that.” you laughed, one that came out more bitter than you had originally intended it to. Nolan’s ears perked up, his face twisting in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just holding me in a bathroom right now while your girlfriend is waiting for you to return.” Nolan groaned, annoyed that you had to ruin a good moment by mentioning Mackayla. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he wished that just once he could have a conversation without you mentioning her.

“Alright well if you want me to leave, I can.” he stood up, brushing off his jeans and turning towards the door before you were on your feet and pulling away from it.

“Do you love her?” his brow furrowed, confusion written into his features as he tried to figure out why you would ask him such a thing. His silence gave you hope, made you believe that there was a possibility that maybe he didn’t love her.

“Why would you-”

“Do you still love me?” it hit him like a thousand bricks, like he had walked straight into a wall and knocked himself out. He’d never told you that he loved you, despite the fact that he definitely did. You had never told each other that you felt that way, though now you think maybe that would have changed things between the two of you. “I only ask because-”

“Just, don’t. Don’t this to me, y/n. I can’t handle this again.” you wondered if the sound you heard was his heart cracking, breaking in his chest at a simple question. You wondered if you had messed things up by being too scared, by living in fear rather than taking things that you wanted.

“I love you.” you felt your shoulders fall, shedding themselves of the weight they held onto for so long. “I love you so much it hurts, and everyone thinks it’s just because I’m in love with your girlfriend. They think that when i’m looking at you, i’m looking at her and while it’s a great coverup for the real issue at hand, it’s almost worse. Because in a way, I guess I am. I want to be her, I want to be in her place. I want to kiss her because at least I'll get to taste your lips again. At least if I listen to her go on and on about her weekend plans then I can keep up with your life from someone other than Tk.”

It was a lot, a lot of things you’d wanted to say for longer than you could recount, but now it was too much. It was too much to dump on Nolan in a bar bathroom where you had just previously been throwing up. It wasn’t ideal, and it was probably disgusting, but you need to get it out now. Now or never, right here in the bathroom where Nolan’s girlfriend stood not too far outside of it.

“Y/n-”

“Just tell me you love me. Tell me i’m not crazy because I think you look at me the way you should be looking at her. I think that whatever you have with her is probably great, but it’s nothing like what we had. She’s not me, Nolan. I know she’s not.”

“That’s the problem! She’s not you, and that’s good for me. She’s good for me. She doesn’t hide me, doesn’t shove me into her room when her best friend comes knocking on the door. She doesn’t hide my jerseys in the back of her closet or stay ten feet away from me in public. She’s not you, but that’s not an accident.” your heart sank, not only at the words ringing in your ears but the steam pouring out of his ears. The way that he was looking at you, like you’d ruined him, made your stomach twist. It was awful, to have him stand in front of you and not understand that all you wanted was him.

“Nolan please-”

“Please what, y/n? Haven’t we already had this conversation? You want me to help you but I'm telling you I can’t do that. I can’t keep running into bathrooms when you’re throwing up and I can’t hold your hand when your anxiety bubbles up and you can’t be around people anymore. I can’t do this for you anymore y/n. Yes, I love you. I love you but it hurts in a way that love should not hurt. I shouldn’t wake up every morning feeling like i’ve lost a part of me that i’ll never get back. I should be able to have a girlfriend without worrying about what my ex thinks, how she feels about me. I shouldn’t have to worry about your feelings anymore because you didn’t worry about mine when I was begging you to stop making me sneak around with you.”

“I didn’t mean for-”

“I don’t care anymore, honestly. I don’t care what you meant to do. All I'm asking you to do is to leave me alone and let me move on with my life. You had your chance, you had me right in front of you, telling you that you were the one for me, you were it, and you threw it away. You broke my heart and kicked me to the curb because you didn’t care what I wanted. So now i’m telling you that I don’t care what you want. I want you to stay away from me.”

The image of him walking out of the bathroom felt a lot like the night he walked out of your apartment. The way he slammed the door in your face, leaving you behind with wet cheeks and an ache in your chest that made it hard to breathe. It wasn’t any different from last time, but you were determined to change it from here on out.

You walked out of the bathroom after splashing water on your face, walking straight up to the bar and ordering three shots of tequila. Three shots that Karly watched him place in front of you from her place across the room as panic coursed through her. She shoved Travis to the side and did her best to reach you in time, dragging Joel along with her but it was too late. You had already tipped back two of the shots by the time they got there, and just as they slammed into the side of the bar, you lifted your third in a mock cheer before downing it.

“Let’s go have some fun, yeah?” you grabbed Karly’s hands and pulled her to the middle of the room to dance with you.

Karly wasn’t sure if she should be careful around you, if you had things that you wanted to air out or if you wanted to bury everything. She wasn’t sure exactly what happened with you and Nolan, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to help you. So she let you drink. She made sure that Joel would be ready to take you home when you needed to go, and she let you do almost anything in between.

Joel was the one that cut you off, paying for your tab and pulling you away from a guy you were trying to hustle drinks from in favor of taking you home. He labeled you as gone enough to go home and when he was met with a drunken smile, he knew he made the right decision.

He kept an arm around you when you said goodbye to everyone, and pretended not to notice the way you skipped right over Nolan on your way out. Karly made him promise to call her as soon as he had gotten you home. He let you lean against him on the walk to his car and made sure all of your limbs were safely placed inside before shutting the door.

“You have a good night?” Joel asked about a minute or so into the drive, watching you gaze longingly out of your window. You nodded gently, which was slightly off putting but somehow enough for Joel to stop pushing it.

“She’s so pretty.” Joel’s ears perked up, attention shifting over to you at the sound of your voice. “Great smile, big blue eyes that you can’t help but stare out. Her accent can get annoying but it’s cute in a weird way.”

Joel laughed gently, thinking that your rambling was a drunk confession that his skepticism had been correct, that he had sniffed you out easier than you had expected him to. But then you spoke again, and it took everything in him not to slam on the brakes in the middle of the street.

“Maybe if I had her long blonde hair or her magic touch, he’d want me just as much.” he felt his heart sink into his stomach, realization dawned on him more and more as time progressed.

All this time, he’d been teasing you about the stupid crush he thought you had on Nolan’s girlfriend. He thought the glances and the heavy sighs were directed towards the blonde girl when in all reality, they were directed at his teammate. It made sense, how you and Nolan seemed to start acting strange around the same time. He wouldn’t hear from either of you for hours at a time, when nobody knew where either of you were.

It made sense why you stopped coming to games, why you stopped accepting invitations to go out with everyone. He realized now, that he’d made a big mistake. By thinking that you had a thing for Mackayla, every mere mention of the girl must have brought a sick feeling to your stomach. He mentioned her and Nolan all the time, and had unintentionally hurt you in the process.

“Do you think he would?” you turned toward Joel, hand falling onto his arm while your eyes blurred with a thin layer of tears. He looked down at you, so fragile and small in his passenger seat, and softened. He couldn’t help but think he helped put you in this position, but he could make sure he never did it again.

“I think he’d be an idiot not to love you just the way you are.” you rolled your eyes but the smile that stretched across your lips was enough for him. You shoved him playfully, letting a laugh pass your lips afterwards.

Something twisted in his stomach, seeing you laugh beside him in his passenger seat. You looked beautiful despite the drunken haze and the way your eyes could hardly stay open. It wasn’t the first time Joel had seen you like this but he hoped it wouldn’t be his last either.

“Careful, Beezer. You’re going to get my hopes up.” his heart sank again, the smile slowly fading from your lips before you slipped into a light sleep. He was furious that anybody would hurt you like this, let alone someone that he was so close to. He didn’t know how he didn’t sniff this out sooner, but he was determined to never let it go unnoticed again.

Joel kept a close eye on you then. He made sure not to invite you to things when Mackayla was already set to attend. He kept conversation topics about Nolan in the ‘do not mention’ box, only mentioning him if he was a vital part to the story he was telling. Joel went through your closet and replaced every single Patrick jersey with a Farabee one, claiming that you can’t keep showing up to the games with a simple flyers hoodie that was practically on its last leg.

You noticed the small changes, noticed that Joel was doing his best to keep you out of harm's way. You assumed he must have told Travis enough for him to stop mentioning your alleged crush on Mackayla. One thing you were sure of was the fact that you wouldn’t have made it this far without Joel. He showed up with takeout when he knew you’d gone all day without eating, and put on your favorite movie without asking.

Essentially, he was himself, dialed up to eleven. He made sure you never had to go anywhere by yourself if you didn’t want to. It was clear that Mackayla wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and you were far too close with the rest of the team to let Nolan indirectly stop you from having fun with your friends.

You went into the night thinking that it would be a good stepping stone for you to accept the fact that Mackayla would be around more often whether you liked it or not. You got ready with Karly, pulling on the tight leotard and the bunny ears that matched. It was a ridiculous outfit, but it was worth it when Joel walked into your apartment with his arms outstretched beside him and a pipe hanging from his lips loosely.

“Where’s my bunny?” you wiped a stray tear from your waterline, your laughter tumbling further into an uncontrollable fit. You knew these costumes would be ridiculous but seeing Joel in a velvet robe and a sailor’s hat was far more comical than you originally expected.

“Hi Hughie.” you kissed his cheek gently, heating up the patch of skin unintentionally. You didn’t notice the way his eyes lingered on the skin of your exposed thighs, nor did you see the way his eyes followed you when you turned around, back facing him.

“You ready?” you nodded gently and told Travis he did a good job, despite the fact that his and Karly’s prisoner costumes were just orange jumpsuits.

Karly brought her lips close to your ear when Nolan and Mackayla arrived, making a passive comment about how you and Joel looked ten times better than that. It made you think about last halloween, where you ended up leaving Claude’s with Nolan, only to wake up the next morning with a trail of marks down your neck and a mess of makeup you had forgotten to take off before falling asleep.

You shook the thought out of your head, deciding that it wasn’t worth it. You were thankful that Joel stayed close to you all night, eliminating the possibility of you ever being locked in a room with just Nolan and/or Mackayla. He didn’t stop you from tossing back one too many white claws and kept guard in front of the door when you used the bathroom.

He didn’t stop you from standing on a table beside Tk, elbows hooked together while you raced to down your can faster than him. He hip checked Karly when she tried to distract you to give her boyfriend the win, and he grabbed onto both of your thighs when you wobbled on the slightly unsteady surface.

Your hands fell to grab onto his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself, thankful for the way he had no intention to let you fall. He smiled up at you with a smile that said he knew you were just past the point of being able to keep your balance. You’d lost count of how many white claws you’d been handed throughout the night, but the close eye he kept on you told him how much more you’d be able to handle before the night was over.

Joel wrapped his arms around your legs and lifted you off of the tabletop, only loosening them enough for you to slide down to stand on your feet. When your feet hit the floor, you were painfully aware of how close you were to Joel, feeling his breath fan over your face and struggling to keep your eyes locked on his.

In all the time you’ve known Joel, you’ve never felt the fuzzy feeling that was currently residing in your chest. You’d never thought about your relationship all that much. The two of you spent time together because it felt natural, it was easy to fall into a routine with him without even realizing it. In another world, you’d let Joel break down your walls. You’d probably help him, hammering them down all on your own if it meant that he looked at you like that for the rest of your life.

But this wasn’t a perfect world, and you couldn’t do that. No matter how much you tried to soak in the way that Joel was looking at you, the way he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of you or pry his hands off of your sides, you were reminded of the fact that he wasn’t Nolan.

You cleared your throat, eyebrows furrowing for just a second before you started tripping over your words. “I, uh-”

“Beezer!” Joel’s hands fell back to his side, eyes snapping up to follow the sound of his name only to find Morgan and Phil beckoning him over in their direction.

“I should uh-”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, go. Don't fall off any tables.” he laughed gently and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before walking past you, leaving you with a burning feeling in both of your hips and now the spot of your temple that was still warm from his lips.

You quickly shook it off by the time that Karly popped up beside you with an unopened white claw, swinging it in front of your face and smiling brightly when you snatched it out of her hold. Unbeknownst to you but not flying under Karly’s radar, was the boy with bright blue eyes and shoulder length hair that had been watching you longer than he should have been.

Karly sent him a firm glare while your back was to him, silently testing him while also warning him. He rolled his eyes, unsure of when she had figured things out or what she had heard. He was sure you told a skewed version of the truth, surely roping Karly into believing Nolan was the spawn of satan. In all actuality, Karly didn’t think that. She thought that the things you told her about Nolan were great, and she knew you deserve someone like that. She did, however, know that you were also hurt by the things that Nolan had been doing and saying recently, and she’ll be damned if she lets him hurt you again.

So she kept an eye on Nolan all night, she made sure that he kept his distance from you while also trying to figure out what was going on between you and Joel. You leaned just a little further into him than you normally would and he seemed to always have a hold on you, whether it be his hands on your hips or an arm thrown over your shoulders.

The first time she could ask about it was when the two of you were dancing, not the only ones in the room but you were surely the only one that could hear her over the music. She wrapped her arms around your neck and brought her lips close to your ear to help drown out the sound to everyone else while also trying to eliminate the possibility of raising suspicion.

“So you and Beezer?” you smiled fondly, not even realizing that a toothy grin spread across your lips at the sound of Joel’s name.

“He’s just my best friend, K.” she rolled her eyes, unconvinced that’s all it was. She casted her eyes over your shoulder, catching the eyes of none other than the boy dressed as Hugh Hefner.

“I’d say the way he’s looking at you right now is not how I look at my friends. It is, however, the way I look at my boyfriend after being teased all night long.” you turned over your shoulder, catching Joel’s eyes with your own. He pushed a smile forward, one that eventually turned into a short laugh before he looked back at Morgan who was talking about something he had lost track of a while ago.

“We’re just friends.” Karly hummed, unconvinced but dropping the subject nonetheless.

If you weren’t thinking about it beforehand, now it would have been impossible to stop thinking about Joel. maybe it was the fact that you could still feel his hands on your hips, or the fact that almost every time you looked at him he was already looking at you. It felt impossible to stop thinking about him, to turn your mind off and stop thinking. It sucked, the dull ache finding its way back to your chest because no matter how much you were thinking of Joel, you couldn’t stop subconsciously looking for Nolan.

The way he didn’t have his arm slung around Mackayla’s shoulders like always brought a whisper of a smile to your face. She was talking to Jake about something that he looked amused over, whether it was the topic of their conversation or her hand gestures that amused him you weren’t sure of. He was hardly looking at her, opting to stare into his cup or up at Travis when he nudged him hard enough to grab his attention.

But then he looked up at you, holding eye contact with you for longer than either of you should have. His knuckles were white, his cheeks tinted red in a way that made you dizzy. You remembered a time when you’d smile at the sight of them, run your fingers over them and probably kiss them softly. Nolan would tell you to leave them alone, to ignore that they were even there but he didn’t mind when they made you smile like that.

It took you back to a time where you could cock your head to the side and ask him to meet you in the bathroom. There’d be rushed kisses and whispered affirmations, words that nobody outside of the two of you were ever going to hear but it didn’t matter because Nolan was the one saying it all to you.

But you couldn’t do that now. You couldn’t meet him upstairs or back at your apartment afterwards. He’d be going home with his girlfriend and you’d be going home alone. It was the harsh fact that you had been trying to accept for months at this point, but it didn’t hurt any less than it did the first time you saw Mackayla and realized that no matter how much you wanted to hate her, you couldn’t.

You took a deep breath and broke eye contact, opting to turn your focus to downing the rest of your drink before walking into the kitchen to grab another. You’d love to say that you were surprised when you heard the door open after you had shut it, but you weren’t. In fact, you’d be surprised if it hadn’t opened.

“Is there something going on with you and Beezer?” you fought back a laugh that sat in the back of your throat. Of course that’s what he cared about. Of course, even after all this time, he was still worried about what you were doing and who you were doing it with.

“Would there be a problem if there was?” you turned over your shoulder, not missing the way he had to peel his eyes off of your backside. Though, you couldn’t blame him for it. You look good in the black leotard and you were sure it wasn’t the first time tonight that he looked at you like that.

“So there is?” you rolled your eyes and turned back to your drink that was practically finished. You took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, bringing the cup to your lips to take a large gulp of it before you turned back around and made a break for the exit.

“No, Nolan. There’s nothing going on between Joel and I but it’s not exactly your place to grill me if there was.” you went to give him a firm pat on the shoulder but he gripped your wrist lightly, turning you just enough so he could look at you properly.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” the look of confusion mixed with hurt that took over your face filled him with regret. You had never done anything that should have given him the notion that you’d ever lie to him, but he felt the need to ask regardless. Now that he had, he had his answer and he wished he had just kept it to himself.

“Things would be a lot easier between us if I was able to lie to you.” despite the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, there wasn’t enough time for you to explain your words to him before you were walking past him and out of the kitchen.

The alcohol swimming through your system had your eyes burning before the door had even shut behind you and while Nolan didn’t follow you out right after, that didn’t stop Joel from grabbing your hand and tugging you away from the room.

“I was just about to go in. I saw him follow you in there, are you okay?” he could tell you were in a bit of a daze. It was evident in the way your eyes didn’t meet his right away, the way that your breathing was slightly irregular and the way that when you looked up at him, he could tell you were still out of it.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah i’m okay.” he nodded slowly despite the fact that he wasn’t entirely convinced and agreed to dance with you when one of your favorite songs came on.

It felt like the night was never ending at this point. You’re not sure what time it was or how many white claws you had downed, but that was obvious by the way you were stumbling around the Giroux house. Joel hardly trusted you to go to the bathroom by yourself with the way you were stumbling everywhere.

He was persistent in walking behind you up the stairs, holding out his hands to stop you from falling backwards. He wasn’t much more sober than you were, but he was clearly handling it a lot better than you were. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest when he said he was going to wait outside for you, but then he offered to sit on the edge of the tub and while it was far from the thing you should have done, you were certain that you would mess up somewhere if you did it all on your own.

One thing you had forgotten about was the outfit you were wearing, and the fact that you practically had to strip in order to use the bathroom. So, with a low groan and a drunken laugh, you told Joel he had to stand in the shower while you peed, curtain closed and all. He did though, stand in the shower and stare at the tiled walls while he asked you if you were having a good night, all things considered.

When he heard the sink turn on and your voice telling him he could come back out, the shower curtain slid to the side and he stepped back out, a smile gracing his lips when he locked eyes with you in the mirror. He bumped your hip with his gently and gasped when you splashed water at him from the faucet, splashing you back without any hesitation.

“Oh that was a grave mistake, Farabee.” his eyebrows shot up, a silent questioning sitting on the tip of his tongue before he repeated his actions.

Somewhere along teasing comments and a few more splashes, the laughter dulled down and the faucet was turned off. Joel’s eyes were trained on you though, the alcohol in his system lowering his subtlety in the way he raked your body up and down. It wasn’t subtle and it sent a chill down your spine, the fact that he was openly checking you out unapologetically.

He leaned closer, or maybe you leaned closer, it was unclear who made which move first and who was just simply following suit but within mere seconds, your lips were pressed against Joel’s. His hands found the back of your thighs with ease and lifted you up onto the countertop, giving him the ability to press his lips further into yours.

You got caught up in the heat of the moment. The way his lips felt against yours felt so familiar, like you had kissed him in another life. It felt easy and natural, and right. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced, even holding his head in yours while you kissed him back just as feverishly.

You were in a daze until he pulled his lips back from yours and pressed them against the skin of your neck, making a path of his own on the way down to the spot of your neck that met your shoulder. Maybe it was the fact that he settled in an all too familiar spot of your neck, or the way that his hands couldn’t seem to hold enough of you, but you ripped out of the moment. Everything around you started coming back, reminding you of what you were doing in the bathroom of a Halloween party where all of your friends were just downstairs.

“Joel.” you whispered softly, trying to get a firm grip on reality rather than allowing yourself to get lost in the boy that was still nipping and sucking at your skin.

“Yeah baby?” the rasp in his voice sent a shockwave through your body, making your head fall back ever so slightly at the same time a low whine passed your lips.

“We can’t do this.”

“Why’s that?” he switched sides, grabbing the underside of your jaw and turning your head enough to give him access to the other side of your neck.

“Because we can’t Joel. you’re my best friend-”

“Oh bullshit.” he pulled back then, pupils blown out and lips slightly swollen. Red tinted his cheeks and the soft pants rolling past his lips mimicked the way his mind was racing. “Haven’t you heard anyone say that falling in love with your best friend is the best decision you can make?” your heart fell into your stomach, your shoulders slumping at the sound of his question.

Falling in love? You didn’t think Joel was anywhere near in love with you. You’d guess maybe a crush or some surface level feelings but full blown love? There was something holding you back, not allowing you to get to that point with anyone after what you’d been through. You couldn’t just forget about all of it as if it hadn’t happened, as if it didn’t still affect you.

“Say something.” the desperation in his voice killed you, somehow breaking your heart even further. The way his lust clouded vision turned to one of pleading tugged at your heartstrings in a way that had you speaking before you could even think about it.

“I still love him, Bee.” Joel’s head fell then, his hands moving to grip the edge of the counter on either side of you as he tried to catch his breath. “Joel-”

“Don’t bother. I get it. It’s always going to be Patty, right?” he looked up at you, hoping that you’d rush to tell him that’s not what you meant, but that never came.

Instead you bit your lower lip, chewing the anxiety away as you tried to find the words to describe the situation. By the time you could think of anything worth saying, Joel was already turning the knob and slamming the door shut behind him. The sound made you jump just before you leaned back against the mirror, trying to rid yourself of the mess you just made for yourself.

Joel rushed down the stairs in search of something to drink, anything that would save him from his mind. He couldn’t stop replaying it over in his head, the way your hands felt on the sides of his face or locked in his hair. The way your lips felt against his or the way you reacted to his touch. He couldn’t get the sight of your blown out pupils and swollen lips, two things he had caused, out of his head. He couldn’t get you out of his head.

When he found Phil and Morgan passing a flask back and forth, he held his out for it and downed about half of it before Phil tried to swat it away from his lips, noticing something severely wrong with Joel. None of them noticed you jog down the stairs and bolt out back, in search of fresh air and a space where there weren’t many people around.

“You alright Beezer?” Phil asked just before tipping the flask enough to take a swig from it.

“Other than the fact that I may have just fucked everything up, I’m fine.” Morgan realized what he meant first, given that he’d heard Joel talk about you more often than anyone else on the team. Morgan was the one he went to when he couldn’t go to you, this being one of their main conversation topics.

“What did you do?” Joel’s eyes lingered on Morgan for a bit and when he pushed out a heavy sigh to procrastinate the words he was about to say, he only allowed the time for Nolan to walk past him just in time to hear everything he was going to say.

“I think I almost slept with y/n.” Nolan came to a screeching halt behind him, eyes snapping to meet Phil’s who was completely clueless to the tension currently building up.

“You what?” Joel’s neck practically snapped with how quickly he turned over his shoulder, coming face to face with the broody boy who was seething right in front of him.

“Nothing. I uh, that came out wrong.” Nolan didn’t believe him though. With the way Joel was stumbling over his words and avoiding eye contact, Nolan knew there was something worth digging into.

Nolan walked away from the three of them, eyes scanning the room, no doubt in search of you. His fists were clenched and his focus was completely thrown off. He had forgotten about everything else going on around him, everyone else that stood inside of the house.

He saw you through the sliding glass door, a smile sitting on your face that he knew held no weight to it. He knew that whatever Jake was telling you was probably funny, but he knew there were other things on your mind. Both because he knew you well enough to know when something was on your mind but also because he had just heard Joel say that there was something for you to be thinking about.

He yanked the back door open, not caring for a single second if it slammed open or shut, or if it even shut at all behind him. He didn’t care if he was attracting attention to himself or if he was about to accidentally air out a bunch of dirty laundry for not only himself, but you and Joel as well.

“So you’re a liar now?” your head turned at the loud voice calling out to you from the opposite side of the yard, worry and fear intertwining in the back of your mind.

“What are you talking about?” Jake and Claude had forgotten what their conversation was even about by the time Nolan was halfway across the yard, anger clearly written into his expression.

“You fucked Beezer?” your eyes blew wide open, along with the two men at your side that were rudely interrupted by a false accusation.

“No! What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about whatever happened between you and Beezer that you told me was surely not happening.” you rolled your eyes now, more annoyed with the fact that he was digging this deep into something he had no business knowing about rather than the fact that he was yelling at you in front of your families.

“Why do you even care, Nolan?”

“He’s my teammate! How am i supposed to play on a line with him when i know he’s-”

“He’s what?” you stood up now, standing face to face with the boy who was clearly causing a scene. Even the people still standing inside were watching through the door that still hadn’t shut from Nolan’s dramatic exit/entrance.

“He’s touched you!”

“It was just a kiss for fuck’s sake!” Joel wouldn’t admit that his heart sank at the comment. What was ‘just a kiss’ to you was much more to him. It was everything he’d wanted to for as long as he could remember, but he’d keep that to himself too.

“It’s the principle!” his words irritated you. He was irritating you. You’re not sure how it was his business to know, let alone who gave him the right to be mad about it.

“You’re not my boyfriend, Nolan!” he clenched his fists at the fact. He knew that, he was painfully aware of that. All it did was remind him that the girl he wanted more than anything wouldn’t meet him halfway.

“Well that doesn’t mean he can be!”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because i’m still in love with you!” it was bad timing, truly. In theory, someone probably should have stopped her from stepping outside while the two of you were fighting, but nobody did. Nobody stopped Mackayla from hearing everything that Nolan said, everything that he had denied to her for as long as they’d been together, and they didn’t stop her from walking out into the backyard just as her boyfriend was confessing his love for another girl.

You deflated at the sight of her, shoulders slumping when you realized that you were responsible for two people’s heart breaks tonight. Three if you counted Nolan, but you didn’t. He’d been like this for a long time it seemed and while you wanted to fix that, one thing Nolan was right about was the fact that there was too much damage between the two of you to backtrack now.

“You’re in love with her?” Nolan’s eyes fluttered shut at the sound of her voice, mind racing over all the ways he messed up in the past that led to this moment. His girlfriend of x amount of months was now standing behind him, her heart in her stomach and her cheeks wet as she witnessed her boyfriend confess that he was in love with the girl she’d been worried about for the entirety of their relationship.

“Mack.” he whispered gently, turning around to face the girl who had already given up on him. There was no way he could fix this. He had told her too many times to count that nothing had ever happened between you and him. He promised her that you weren’t somebody she needed to worry about, but he told everyone that it seemed. “Mack I didn’t mean to-”

She turned and ran back into the house before Nolan could even finish his thought. While he wanted to turn around and drill into you for fucking up another thing for him, he knew it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything you weren’t allowed to do and he made a mess for himself. He didn’t walk into a mess you built, didn’t try to fix someone who didn’t need fixing, but he did break two girls who deserved the world.

“Good job.” you mumbled to yourself, bumping his arm with your shoulder when you walked past him and tried to follow Mackayla when he made no effort to.

“Y/n-” you spun at the sound of your name, angry tears building up in your eyes at the look on his face, a look that made you feel guilty for something you were more than allowed to do.

“No! You don’t get to berate me. You don’t get to belittle me or tell me that I made a mistake. I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want to. You left me, remember? You left me and you told me that I needed to let you be happy. I tried, Nolan. I tried so hard to let you be happy and now you’re screaming at me in front of everybody because of what? Because I might be starting to be happy without you? You don’t get to be angry at me for finding a way to fix myself. Just leave me alone.” by the time you passed by everyone who was looking at the floor rather than up at you, you knew that you should leave anyways.

With your phone in one hand and your shoes in the other, you ran outside and sighed at the relief you felt when you found Mackayla sitting on the curb.

“Mackayla!” you ran down the driveway towards her, wincing at the sight of her glaring harshly at you. “Mackayla I’m so sorry.”

She wiped her cheeks and nose and let out a heavy sigh. In reality, she couldn’t be mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong in her mind and you surely weren’t the one that lied to her. Sure, it wasn’t her first choice to hang out with the girl that inherently stole her boyfriend from her, but she also figured that she had stolen your boyfriend in a way so she guessed that made the two of you even.

“He sucks.” you laughed gently and sat beside her, opening your phone while you plopped down on the curb beside her.

“He does.” you paused for a moment before smiling over at her. “You’re staying with him, aren’t you?” she nodded slowly, realizing that she didn’t have anywhere to go or any of her things. “Well I'm about to order an uber if you want to crash at my place for the night. I’ll answer any questions you want and I’ll help you get your shit from his place in the morning.”

She hesitated, clearly not ready to accept your offer with a wide smile and an open mind. She hardly knew you, and she wasn’t ready to forget about all of the things she was beginning to realize about you and Nolan’s relationship.

But she agreed, because she truly had nowhere else to go. She sat at your dining room table with you in a pair of your sweatpants and a shirt you had promised her was not Nolan’s. She drank your coffee out of one of your mugs and asked you every question that had plagued her over the course of her relationship with Nolan. Not all of them were about you, not even all of them were about Nolan, but you answered them all regardless.

You helped her get her things in the morning from Nolan’s and drove her to the airport when she was able to rebook her flight back home. You apologized ten more times and she waved off every one of them by telling you that you didn’t do anything wrong other than be the love of Nolan’s life, which wasn’t your fault entirely.

Karly was there to help pick up the pieces the best that she could, though it was hard with her not always being in Philly. She tried to fill the space in your life that Joel left when he stopped coming around for movie nights and take out dinners. You fully stopped going to Flyers games, finding no use in showing up to them anymore.

Every call you made was sent to voicemail, every text left unread. You were being shut out, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Travis tried to assure you it wasn’t your fault, you just didn’t notice your best friend falling in love with you because you were trying to fall out of love with his teammate. He told you to just give Joel time, but you were stuck believing that ‘time’ may never have an ending.

So you threw yourself into your work. You submitted projects before their due dates and received positive feedback on just about every portion of them. It was a healthy coping mechanism, a way to shift your focus onto something productive. You did such a good job, in fact, that your boss called you into his office after a few months.

It was nerve wracking, to be called into your boss’s office with no clues as to why. It was even more nerve wracking after you had left and your hands were slightly shaking. The weight put onto your shoulders was unlike any you’d ever experienced, plagues with a decision to make all on your own. It wasn’t a decision you wanted, not one you had even been close to looking for, but it’s one that you got.

It’s one that lingered in the back of your mind for weeks afterwards, still never reaching a decision. The flexible timeline gave you all the time in the world to decide, and your boss wasn’t pushing you in either direction, though you slightly wished he would have.

But then you told Karly about said decision, and the way you watched her face fall told you that she knew what your decision would be. In all actuality, you knew what your decision was. If you were going to say no, you would have by now. You would have denied the offer and stuck with your current life, boring or not.

You were practically tackled the second you stepped foot in Travis’s apartment, his arms thrown around you as he leaned into you just enough to throw off your balance. Phil followed close behind, wrapping you up in his arms and telling you that you weren’t allowed to disappear for that long ever again. Karly’s sideways glance in your direction went unseen to everyone but you, mostly because you silently told her to drop it, given that now was not the time to be talking about this.

But then you felt your heart sink further into your chest with every passing second. It was nice to be around all the people that made Philly feel like home to you, but it made your decision harder. Not because you had to choose which side you were on anymore, but because it made your choice that much harder to accept.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so hard if Joel wasn’t going out of his way to ignore you. The way he ducked out of your way any time he got close to you, or the way he purposefully stood on the opposite side of the room when the only open seat was beside you. You noticed the way he steered clear of you and while you wanted to be upset that you didn’t have your best friend to make these things easier for you, you knew that Joel was doing this for his own good, not to hurt you.

So you found yourself on Travis’s balcony with Karly, your head leaning on her shoulder while you swung a bottle back and forth between your fingers. The sound of the door opening behind you made you turn over your shoulder, eyes locking with the same pair of blue eyes that you knew you’d have to face at some point.

“I’ll let you two talk.” Karly whispered gently before standing up and ducking back inside.

Nolan closed the door this time, making it a habit in everything he did nowadays. He sat beside you, his knee knocking into yours gently. He didn’t know what to say to you, didn’t know how to apologize for all of the things he had put you through. The two of you had something beautiful once, you’re not sure when it turned itself upside down but it didn’t matter anymore. Not when things were about to change so drastically. Maybe not for him, but definitely for you.

“I’m shocked your lap dog’s not out here.” you rolled your eyes, finding it ridiculous that you thought he would start this conversation on a positive note.

“Why don’t you sit there and i’ll sit here and we can keep to ourselves until one of us wants to go back inside.” he sighed, like he regretted starting off on the wrong foot.

“We can’t even try to be nice to each other?” you turned to him then, giving him a look he hadn’t seen in a long time. It reminded him of times where you’d let the stress from school and work pile up, when you looked at him with an exhaustion that he couldn’t help. It was how you looked right before you stress cried, right before you’d normally turn into his chest and unload everything you’d been holding on to for far too long.

“I’ve tried being nice to you. I’ve tried letting you live your life but the second I started doing that, you stopped letting me live mine. I think you only want me to be happy if you’re the one that’s making me happy and that’s fucked. I lost my best friend over it. I lost the love of my life. It feels like I'm losing everything and I'm starting to think this isn’t the place I need to be anymore.” the latter part of your rant slipped without you even realizing it.

“What are you saying?” you shook your head, chewing on the side of your cheek and deciding not to dive into. Nolan didn’t care, and he was not the person you needed to be talking to about these things.

“Nothing. Forget about it.”

“Y/n. You’ve never been good at opening up but you’re clearly struggling. I know I'm not your first choice right now but I'm the only one that’s here. There was a time when I was your go to person for this sort of thing. So just tell me, what are you talking about?” you stared at him, hesitation evident in the way you were chewing on your tongue.

He was right, though. At one point, he was the person you called when things went wrong. He was the one you unloaded things onto at the end of the day when he asked what was worrying you. You told him your problems, shared your demons with him. If there was anybody who knew how you got when things were ruining you from the inside out, it was Nolan.

“I got a promotion.” a small smile spread across his lips, excitement and pride filling his chest. He always supported your work ventures, and he knew that they were crazy to ever think that you wouldn’t be their top employee sooner or later.

“Y/n that’s great.” you shook your head slowly, heart deflating in your chest before you pushed out the vital information that he hadn’t been looking for.

“It’s in Vancouver.”

He didn’t know what to say. On one hand, he wanted to say no. no, you can’t go to Vancouver. No, you can’t leave Philly behind. No, they don’t need you up there, they need you down here. He wanted to grovel, to fall to his knees and to beg you to stay. Stay in an apartment that he knew like the back of his hand, stay in a city where he knows you’re never too far. He wanted to say that moving to Vancouver was crazy and you’d regret it before you even had time to settle in.

But he couldn’t do that, because the other half of him was louder and logical. You deserved the promotion, deserved the raise that came with it despite where the job was. Nolan knew that Philly held things that you wanted to forget about, reminded you of times in your life that were only painful to think about at this point. You didn’t want to be here anymore, that much Nolan could tell. If you didn’t want to be here, you shouldn’t have to be.

“I think that would be good for you.” it was hard for him to say, tasting just as vile as it was to think about you going to another city.

Would you go to Canucks games? Would he have to see you dressed in blue and green rather than orange and black? Would you start hanging out with the Canucks roster like you did with the Flyers or would you avoid hockey completely? Maybe you’d date one of their players or maybe you’d make sure that anybody even remotely affiliated with hockey stayed far away from you. He didn’t know what the future held for you, but he hoped it was filled with joy and relief from the things you’d endured in Philly.

It hurt you to hear him say it just as much as it hurt him to say it. You could see that there were more thoughts swimming through his mind, that he wasn’t telling you everything he was thinking. Part of you wanted him to beg you to stay, to say that he was single now and everyone knew about the two of you anyway. You wanted him to say that maybe one more shot would finally do the trick, but you knew he wouldn’t and you knew that jumping back into anything with Nolan was far from a good idea.

Then there was Joel. Joel who had feelings for you that you never got the chance to hear about. There was a place for you and Joel, you knew that, but you thought it was unattainable. To be with Joel after everything between you and Nolan, it’d be a catastrophe. There wasn’t a possibility of you going back to being best friends, not when he had feelings for you that weren’t unrequited. You could pour your heart out to Joel, could tell him that you could see yourself falling in love with him if he was willing to be patient with you. But you couldn’t do that either. Not when you had finally come to the conclusion that you needed to move to Vancouver in order to put yourself back together.

That didn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder though, gazing at the boy who was impossible to rid your mind of. His smile made your heart clench, the way his head tilted back and his eyes screwed shut behind his glasses. He was beautiful in every sense of the word and while you loved the sound of a world where the two of you fell in love with zero complications, you knew that you were holding onto false hope.

“You should tell him. I don’t doubt he’ll show up on your doorstep in Vancouver if you don’t.” you laughed gently and turned back to face Nolan, hardly aware of when you had turned away from him. He wore a gentle smile, one that told you that even if you took this step, he would still be here for you. Maybe not in the ways that you previously needed him to be, but there was always room for building a new foundation.

“I will in a bit.” you whispered gently, sinking into your seat and lying your head on Nolan’s shoulder.

You’d miss this; he noisy bunch inside right behind you, the skyline you could see from Tk’s balcony. You’d miss the feeling of being close to Nolan, if only having your head on his shoulder while you sat in silence. You’d miss excitedly running into his apartment with new song recommendations, or him sending you a short playlist he made on the road for you. You’d miss waking up in the middle of the night to him tossing and turning until you brought him painkillers and a tall glass of water.

You’d miss Joel slamming his way into your apartment with a bright smile that meant he was having a dangerous thought. You’d miss the times you’d bring his back to the rink when he forgot it at home, or the way that he brought you lunch on days when you were too busy to send him a simple text that told him you were okay. You’d miss lying your head in his lap and looking up at him with nothing but love in your chest.

You’d miss going to Flyers games and watching your friends do the thing they loved most. You’d miss watching Joel score insane goals that you were always unsure of how he made them. You’d miss wearing Nolan’s Flyers paraphernalia and splitting snacks with Karly.

You’d miss it all, but you had to go. You had to go for you, because Philly isn't home anymore. It would always hold a special place in your heart, but so would all of the people in it. And you knew you needed to lead all of them behind as well.

Even the ones with bright blue eyes that would be burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick x reader #nolan x reader #nolpat #joel farabee #joel farabee x reader #joel x reader #beezer #philadelphia flyers #flyers #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nolan patrick imagine #joel farabee imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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fatalism-and-villainy · 3 years ago

Text

Originally posted this on Pillowfort, but eh, I’m posting it here too.

Uh, negativity about a positivity post, and the same old gender angst I’m continually expressing:

This post is... well... further evidence that I don't seem to have much in common with many nonbinary people when it comes to relationships, or even possibly, by extension, when it comes to what being nonbinary even means to us.

Like, posts like this seem to treat being nonbinary as being comparable to being [binary] trans - something maligned by mainstream desirability politics, that shouldn't impact others' interest in you. Whereas when I call myself nonbinary, I want it to be treated similarly to how men and women as categories are approached - i.e. it's not sexist to not be sexually interested in women, so I don't think it follows that it's anti-nonbinary to not desire nonbinary people as partners. I am not a Swiss army knife that should be able to slot into anybody's sexuality if they're just inclusive enough, and I don't want to be anybody's exception!

Like, yes, I do feel like dating is/will be hard as a nonbinary person. But that's not because I don't think I'm desirable, or that nobody will love me for "who I am" - it's because our entire system of categorizing sexuality and relationships is dependent on binary gender, and lets people like me fall through the cracks, communicates to us that we should just be content with being sorted into the nearest approximate binary gender category. It sucks! But it doesn't suck for the reasons articulated here. Not every "you have to break up with me" is insecurity or self-loathing about being nonbinary - sometimes it's "this relationship doesn't fit with my conception of myself anymore" or "I am uncomfortable with the social implications of dating a straight-identified man as someone who's realized they're not a woman". Dating a straight man or a lesbian would really be difficult for me, I think, because of never being entirely sure of how they "actually" saw me. Yes, it would probably be different if I'd already been in a relationship with someone upon having this realization, and this comic is only one person's experience, but the way it's being presented explicitly by the OP as encouragement for others is... unsatisfying.

Because, well, in a world in which sexuality is categorized based on binary gendered classes, and in which nonbinary people consequently are often overlooked as potential partners, sentiments like this just feel really shallow to me. Yes, all right, there are people out there who will respect you the way you deserve. But what does that even look like? What do relationships involving nonbinary people look like? How does one honour their partner's gender (in ways that go beyond just stuff like "pronouns and gender neutral language")? What does it mean to be a straight man in a relationship with someone who's not a woman? What if that person wanted to transition to look more "masculine" - how might desire shift there, and how might it not? These are the questions I'm more interested in, and they're things that could be satisfactorily answered for me with more specificity. (Which is lacking here, and why I'm not fond of positivity comics as a medium in general.)

#nonbinary subjectivity #gender fuckery #iii feel like i have even more to say about this so i might add on in the am

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ask-fantasy-sanders-sides · 4 years ago

Note

So, wait, toes Remus know that Virgil is a dragon too?? if he does, did Virgil tell him or did he just figure it out?

It wasn’t too long after their escape from the prison complex that Remus got irritated.

He didn’t regret dragging the strange assassin along — after all, Remus probably wouldn't have been able to escape without him — but he was getting more and more frustrated with his lack of response to...well, anything.

Remus has attempted more than once to scare and/or gross the stranger out with diatribes of gore and violence, but that hasn't phased him at all. Really, Remus thinks he probably should have expected that response from a dark-elven warrior, but it was a little jarring to have his usual monologues accepted with little more than a cursory glare. It didn't help that he had to speak to the soldier in the goblin language, which neither of them knew well enough to share many complex ideas.

Then, there were his rages. Remus wasn't really himself in that state, and he knew he was quite the sight to those who had never heard of a barbarian. He's pretty sure that if he had some foggy awareness of the assassin being disgusted or even mildly intrigued by his berserk mode, he would have remembered them. As it stands, nothing.

Then, there was his trump card: The first time Remus let out his true form and went berserk on a few guards, the assassin barely even noticed the difference. Remus dismissed it at the time, assuming they had just been busy doing their thing and hadn’t seen him do it. But, as they were sneaking away from the castle spires the next day and he had to dispose of some noble-looking witnesses, Remus definitely saw the assassin look at his wings.

Still he made absolutely no reaction! He doesn’t seem to react to much of anything, unless he’s being mad at Remus for yelling too loud or missing a swing. Admittedly, being able to spark annoyance in the stuck-up soldier is a little fun, but even his moments of anger are few and far between.

This is the first and only time someone has seen Remus’s kick-ass undead angel wings and not had a damn thing to say about it, and Remus can honestly say he hates it.

So, now that they’re finally outside of the Colony walls (and Remus doesn’t have to worry about the assassin chewing him out for making a scene,) Remus smirks deviously at the unsuspecting drow.

“Hey! Watch this,” Remus shouts, then closes his eyes to focus.

He reaches deep inside himself to connect with that boiling mass of discordant energy — a frothing core of divine light that’s spoiling rotten and necrotic, burning away the mold, healing, and then spoiling again, over and over with each beat of his two hearts. As he’s practiced ever since he was a child, Remus grabs that energy and pulls it out, dismissing a weight in his stomach that he hardly notices until it's time to let go.

The instinctual protective glamor that hides his true form dissolves in the firelight of his true essence, as bone-like angel wings, void-like eyes, and a tidal wave of smoke pour out of Remus like air from a popped balloon. A sickly green glow outlines his irises, his scars, and emblazons the emblem of a sword over his chest. He can feel it as the energy unfurls, how the world spins and sears into focus, how his senses grow sharp and breathing is suddenly so much easier than it’s ever been before. This is what he truly is, how he really looks, and it is a figure that strikes fear and awe in every creature who has the misfortune of seeing it.

All except one. Apparently.

The assassin simply stares at Remus, stone-still as Remus’s whole fucked up magical girl cutscene plays out point-blank in front of him. The fear-inducing necrotic gas rolls past the assassin's feet and into his lungs, but nothing happens. A few seconds pass, and he still hasn’t moved, but he’s clearly not gone into shock or anything of the kind.

Eventually, the assassin gets the impression that Remus is expecting a response. So, he cocks his hip out to one side and folds his arms, mimicking the facial expression that he’s gathered humans make when they’re confused: a pointed eyebrow raise.

(Given his usual glowering expression, it comes across more like sass.)

The minute passes, and though Remus feels the smoke dissipate and his eyes and scars return to normal with a sinking feeling in his gut, the wings remain. Instead of dismissing them, Remus throws his arms out wide with a growl,

“Seriously? That’s it? You’re not scared!”

“Scared?” The assassin parrots lowly.

A wide smile stretches across his lightly-freckled face. In the space of a blink he’s behind Remus, gently peeling the barbarian’s tattered shirt away to get a better look at the base of his wings.

He lays one ice-cold hand against the divot between them, touching him clinically, like he’s trying to figure out how solid Remus's wings are. His hand smooths gently across the stump where flesh gives way to semi-transparent bone before Remus's brain catches up. He shrieks and jumps away from him,

“What the shit are you doing?!” Remus squeaks, eyes wide as saucers. He would be more embarrassed by how absolutely unthreatening he sounds right now if he didn’t still feel the shape of that hand on him like a brand.

(He decides that this is more because of the supernatural nature of his wings, and not because Remus hasn't been touched that carefully by another person since he was like eleven. He doesn’t have time to unpack that feeling whatsoever.)

“You told me to look.” The assassin teases, openly laughing at Remus’s expense.

Then, — and Remus could swear he’s doing it slowly just to make sure Remus sees him — the soldier takes a deep exhale, and his purple eye flashes a soft glow. Suddenly, his body evaporates until he is a cloud of shadowy smoke. This smoke quickly blends in with the surrounding darkness of the cavern, and before Remus can get a word in edgewise, the assassin has re-solidified and is poking his back again.

“StoOOP TOuching me!” Remus yelps and spins around to face him, face red as blood and hands up in a defensive position, “Since when could you do that?!”

The assassin rolls his eyes at this, his hands falling to his sides. Now he takes a moment to think, before reaching down to untie his dagger belt and pull his tunic loose.

“What are you doing?” Remus protests louder, covering his eyes with his hands.

The assassin doesn’t respond.

Though he’s reciting curses in his head and trying very hard to respect this stranger’s privacy, Remus’s curiosity quickly gets the better of him.

He peeks out between his fingers to find the soldier shirtless, his white hair parted and pulled over his shoulders. He looks up at Remus with a completely unimpressed stare.

The assassin reaches out to grab one of Remus’s hands, then turns to show Remus his back.

Remus stares for a moment, eyes tracing the thin, ragged lines of a latticework of scars. They stretch across and around the assassin’s back, some older and some deeper. Most seem to have been inflicted by animals or monsters rather than weapons.

Remus feels no sense of pity at the display — he’s got his own patchwork of scars and his own complicated relationship to them, but over all he sees them more as a mark of survival, as stories to tell. But, he is definitely curious, and his mile-a-minute brain is already spinning outrageous tales to match each and every mark.

Then the assassin guides his hand up towards the top of his back, just alongside his spine. The skin there feels leathery, and significantly warmer than the skin of the elf’s hand, though the heat seems to be emanating from someplace lower on his spine. It’s also slightly off-color, a bit lighter than the skin around it. Whatever this is, this scar is old.

Remus traces the outline of it up, then off to the side as it tapers to a thin line between his shoulder and the base of his neck. The assassin’s ears twitch at the gesture, and Remus’s hand flinches away.

He turns to look at Remus over his shoulder, his neutral grimace returned.

“We are the same. Shadow and wings. You are kitrye'maelthra, right?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Remus frowns, always frustrated when the assassin sneaks an elven word or two into their rare conversations,

“I’m not super good at reading energies, but you don’t feel like an angel… You have wings??”

“No.” He frowns, his gaze becoming soft and distant, “Not anymore.”

“Oh.” Remus sighs, now reeling at the possibilities.

What sort of dark elf grows wings, and how can they be removed? He winces at the phantom pain to his own wings as he parcels through every guess. Did a monster tear them off? The scar was so smooth, it seemed more like they had been burned away with acid. Did he fall into the pit of a living ooze, or maybe it was a punishment from some cruel cultist—

“Yours are broken.” The assassin pries, still staring at him while Remus zoned out.

“Broken? No they're not!”

“You have no skin.” The assassin remarks, like that should have been obvious, “And you look like a ghost.”

“Wait, skin? Like a bat?” Remus laughs, imagining it. He shakes his head, “I’m not supposed to have skin! —Well, I mean, I am, but also feathers. Y’know, like a bird?”

“Bird?” The assassin repeats, like he doesn’t understand the word. He probably doesn’t, goddamn Underdark.

“...Ehh, forget about it. I’ll show you one when we get up there.” Remus shakes his head.

The assassin pulls his tunic back up and re-ties it. While he waits, a sudden thought knocks Remus out of his gruesome imaginings.

He thinks he probably shouldn’t ask, but it takes him all of three seconds to snap and say it anyway,

“Hey,” Remus hums offhandedly, like he’s not extremely invested in knowing the answer, “If you could ‘go ghost’ or whatever this whole time, why didn’t you just poof yourself out of that cell?”

(“And why did you stay to help me?” Remus refuses to add, because he is not that attached to his little stray-criminal monsterboy, goddamnit. He refuses.)

The assassin doesn’t answer or turn back to him, simply staring off in the direction of their path.

Remus huffs and rolls his eyes,

“Fine, damn, keep your secrets. Bet you just can’t hold it that long~”

“Don’t xhandal me, lotha mal'dhalaruk. Usstan orn da'urzotreth dosst et'zarreth.”

“Again, I do not know what the fuck that is.”

#lets roll #long post #long answer #janus's visions #tw violence mention #tw scars #hehe toes #ive stopped making the visions all in italics. its fun flavor but it makes them hard to read lol

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moonlit-han · 4 years ago

Text

part v: true north

genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 9.2k part warnings: 18+ content, suggestive, explicit language, mild angst, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction. !! important !!: if you are under 18 years of age, you may not read this series. the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if age appropriate. thank you. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.

~ read other parts first! ~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

“So,” Jisung said evenly, “when exactly were you going to tell me that you’re seeing Y/N?”

Facing him on the sofa, one leg tucked under the other, Chan let out a surprised huff of air. “I- Why do you care? I thought you were in an open relationship?”

“But that doesn’t mean we don’t tell each other when we’re dating someone new!” Jisung retorted, trying to keep his voice even.

Chan’s eyes widened. “I just assumed she would’ve told you…”

“She didn’t,” Jisung said flatly.

Silence descended for a full three minutes, the tension growing by the second, as both young men refused to speak. Jisung struggled to keep his features fairly neutral, even as he seethed, because, as much as he admired Chan and loved their friendship, his friend was a real bastard when he wanted to be.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Jisung.” Chan’s tone was flippant as he continued to stare at the ceiling. “Take it up with Y/N.”

“What?” Jisung demanded incredulously. He couldn’t believe Chan could be so… So cold.

“I said—“

“I know what you said,” Jisung interrupted, “but I can’t believe you’d betray our friendship like this!”

“Betray our friendship?” Chan ran a hand through his hair. “What the hell, Jisung? It’s not like we’ve told each other about relationships in the past?”

Jisung scoffed. “What relationships, Chan? You haven’t had time to so much as have a quick fuck, let alone an actual relationship.”

“Thanks, Jisung. That’s real nice.”

“It’s not like I’m wrong!” Jisung shot to his feet and pushed the coffee table further into the room with his boot, unable to sit still anymore.

“That doesn’t mean you can insult me.” Chan countered, also rising, arms crossed.

“Likewise, Chan,” Jisung spat, gesticulating wildly. “And just by not telling me, you’ve insulted our friendship.”

“Great!” Chan exclaimed, keeping his distance at the other end of the couch. “I’ve gone and insulted our friendship. Why is this my fault all of a sudden? What about Y/N? Aren’t you going to acknowledge that some of this is on her?”

Jisung spluttered. “Yeah, fine. It is. But you’re my best friend and you should’ve told me, especially since you seem to think you and she are this great power couple or something!”

“I do not!”

“Then why’d you give her that necklace, huh?”

“Jisung,” Chan said placatingly, holding his hands out like he’d calm a wild animal, “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I do care about Y/N.”

Jisung fought not to roll his eyes.

“I really like her,” Chan continued. “She’s just— I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like I’ve been spinning out of focus, away from my center. And then she just appears in my life one day, and suddenly I know where I am again.” He paused to take a breath, as if steeling himself. “Being with her feels amazing.”

Jisung finally did lose control of his expression, sneering as he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, that’s not what I meant,” Chan said flatly. “I’m talking about her personality, her laugh, her mind, everything, Jisung. You know what it’s like, I know you do.” Jisung’s lips pressed together in a tight line, but he remained silent as Chan sat down on the sofa again. “She’s so easy to be around, to spend time with. I honestly feel I’ve been waiting for something all my life and now I’ve found it—I’ve found her.”

Jisung sighed and acquiesced to perching on the arm of his sofa, if not fully sitting again. “Fine. I know what you mean about being drawn to her.” Chan looked like he was about to crow. “But still, you could’ve said something, man.”

“I wanted to, but didn’t know how!” Chan blurted. “And I thought… Since I gave her the necklace and she wore it… But she didn’t tell you?”

“Nope, she hasn’t said a thing, besides saying that she was going on dates. Which were casual. So she didn’t need to tell me anything else.” Jisung tried not to smirk. “You might want to check how serious she thinks it is with you,” he said in mock warning.

Chan seemed to deflate like a balloon losing air, but rose to his feet again nevertheless. Jisung just watched, his heart pounding. “Whatever, Jisung,” Chan mumbled as he stopped halfway across the room, then let himself out. “Bye.”

Jisung didn’t move from where he’d collapsed on the couch for a long time, thinking about everything that had just happened. Sure, he probably shouldn’t have said something so inflammatory to Chan, but that didn’t excuse the facts of the situation. But then again…

Over the past hour, it was as if every feeling of inadequacy, every insecurity had clawed their way out of the deep, mental grave Jisung had worked so hard to dig for them. Knowing that Chan—his best friend, the man he looked up to as a musician and as a person—was seeing you in some capacity made him doubt his own worth. How could he compare to the paradigm that was Bang Chan? Well, maybe not a paradigm, but he was certainly admirable. Jisung still couldn't believe he was dating someone so wonderful as you, so Chan dating you felt too much like him winning some competition of which Jisung hadn’t even known he was a part. Just the thought made him feel like vines were slithering under his skin, constricting him from within. He wondered if Changbin knew, since he lived with Chan, and what he thought if he did.

Jisung couldn’t help thinking that you wearing Chan’s necklace when neither he nor Changbin had given you anything like that felt like Chan was staking his claim. He knew it sounded ridiculous, like Chan was some wolf unable to control his instincts, but you were wearing jewelry that Jisung had seen around his friend’s neck for the past three years, without fail, which he knew meant the world to Chan. So, did that mean that you meant the world to Chan? That you were Chan’s more than his and Changbin’s, even though they were both actually dating you and Chan was, as far as he knew, simply seeing you casually? You hadn’t told him about seeing Chan, so it couldn’t be that serious, right? But that necklace… Seeing it on your neck made your tie with Chan seem more, well, real than his own.

Chan’s insistence that you were the one for him didn’t soothe Jisung’s anxiety, either. And, the fact that Jisung suspected he felt something similar made it all more complicated. He sighed and held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples as his elbows dug into his knees slightly more painfully than he would have liked, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to sleep or do something mindless, to not worry about his relationships or anything else. With a whining groan, Jisung stood and made his way to his bedroom. Maybe some alone time and a nap would help.

↠↞

You kissed Jisung goodbye as he and Chan headed next door, and Changbin tried not to look too forlorn at not being able to kiss Jisung, too. He didn’t much like how there were starting to be more and more secrets between the four of you. When you came back into the kitchen from retrieving your cardigan from exactly where you thought it was—not in the laundry as Chan had assumed—Changbin was washing the mixing bowls you’d used, trying not to splash water all over your kitchen and himself (again). You joined him next to the sink, drying whatever he handed you and putting it away.

Once the last fork had been washed and returned to live among its pointy brethren, the two of you made your way into through the living room where the tins of cookies still sat on the coffee table.

“How mad do you think Jisung would be if I ate all the chocolate chip cookies?” Changbin asked, grinning as he reached for a tin.

“Very,” you replied, knowing your boyfriend wouldn’t really eat the cookies Jisung had already claimed for himself. “But you should still give me one of those.”

Changbin opened the tin and gave you two before heading toward the bedroom.

Kicking off your shoes, you flopped onto the bed next to Changbin, slinging an arm around his shoulders to run your fingers through his hair. He rested his hand on your thigh, gently massaging your muscles—it was nothing erotic, just comforting. The dull light of the winter afternoon filtered through your curtains, catching the two silver rings Changbin had started wearing.

“So,” Changbin began, “how was your week? I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and haven’t been able to talk to you as much.” He leaned over and kissed your cheek, making you smile softly.

“No, no, no! Babe, don’t worry about it! Eh, my week was okay,” you shrugged, now twisting a lock of hair at the base of Changbin’s neck between two fingers. “I got cleared for graduation, so that’s something. But I still have way too much to do before spring break.” You sighed, letting your head sink further into your nest of pillows as you turned to Changbin. “Weren’t you in the studio a bunch this week?”

A sly look crept over Changbin’s countenance as he said, “As a matter of fact…”

You waited a beat for him to continue and when he didn’t you prompted: “Yes?”

“I was in the studio this week—most nights, actually.” Changbin made to rise. “Here, I’ll be right back.”

Before Changbin could return to the bedroom, you snatched one of the cookies he’d left on the bedside table; after all, why should you eat one of your own and have one cookie fewer for later when you could just steal one of your boyfriend’s? It was so delicious that you thought that whoever had written the recipe for these cookies was a genius and deserved a medal. As Changbin walked back into the room, you tried not to look too guilty as you licked the crumbs from your lips. He looked from you to the bedside table and back again.

“Y/N, I— Are you eating one of my cookies?” Changbin said in mock outrage, coming over to your side of the bed and standing over you.

You just stared up at the ceiling, feigning innocence. Changbin leaned down and caught your lips with his, kissing you so thoroughly that you were left breathless. When he straightened, you noticed that your pocket felt one cookie lighter. Sure enough, he’d stolen one of your cookies while he’d been kissing you.

“You little shit!” you cried, quickly sitting up and playfully jabbing Changbin in the stomach, causing him to let out a huff of air.

“Well, you stole one of mine, so it’s only fair,” he said loftily, popping the cookie into his mouth. All you could do was shake your head.

“Close your eyes, love,” Changbin said, and you made a noise of confusion. “Just wait a minute and you’ll know.”

You heard some strangely slithery noises, then felt something come to rest on your bed that was not your boyfriend. Once he’d climbed back up onto the bed and laid down beside you, he gently pulled your hands down from your eyes. “It’s a gift, love.”

The first thing you saw was your old boombox at the end of your bed, an extension chord trailing from it and across the room. In front of you on the bed was a small, rectangular package that looked very familiar….

“Did you…? Is that what I think it is?” you asked, hoping your guess was correct.

“How about you open it, love,” Changbin said, smiling.

You held the gift in your hand, then tore the brown paper from it to reveal a cassette tape.

For Y/N, the most beautiful and wonderful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. Enjoy, love ♡

“A mixtape,” you breathed, turning it over in your hands. “So this is what you were working on this week, babe?”

“Mhmmm,” Changbin hummed, nuzzling your neck. “I hope you love it.”

“I know I will, babe. Let’s listen to it now!” you said excitedly, and leaned forward to slip the cassette into the slot on the boombox, then pressed Play. Changbin held out his arms and you leaned against him, sinking into his chest. As always, Changbin arms were strong and warm around you as the mixtape began to play.

The first song was slow and mellow, setting the mood for the rest of the mixtape and how Changbin felt about you. You’d always known that he had a romantic nature and he’d demonstrated that many times, but the way he described his feelings for you in the lyrics he’d written… You couldn’t help the tears that began to tumble down your cheeks. As you listened to the mixtape in silence, breaking it only with laughs or sighs of deep emotion, you were stunned by the depth of emotion.

“Oh Changbin,” you murmured, turning in his arms to caress his cheek, “you have no idea how much this means to me.” Your hands twined behind Changbin’s neck as you brought your lips to his, lingering at the corner of his mouth before you kissed along his jaw up to his ear. “I feel just the same,” you whispered, and Changbin’s quick intake of breath felt like the fluttering of a bird’s wings against your chest.

“Love, oh love,” Changbin breathed as he drew you down onto the pillows, his body covering yours like a shield. “I’d hoped you did.”

Just then, raised voices came from Jisung’s apartment. You and Changbin looked at each other, wide-eyed. It was unusual for both Jisung and Chan to argue, let alone yell, so something must truly be wrong.

“Should we check on them?” you asked, coming out of your music-induced haze. “That doesn’t sound good…”

“I think they’ll be okay,” Changbin replied, sighing and staring up at the ceiling. He had a feeling he knew what the argument was about, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Not yet, at least. He hoped nothing would happen to 3racha because of the conflict, but he didn’t recall Jisung mentioning anything to him.

“Are you sure?” you prodded, hoping it had nothing to do with you.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll hear about it at some point.” Changbin tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Shall we get back to kissing, then?”

You laughed and nodded, craning your neck to catch Changbin’s lips with yours.

The next morning—Sunday morning—Changbin awoke slowly and simply laid there, admiring you the way the sunlight seemed to shimmer over your hair like quicksilver. He was struck by how lucky he was to be with you, to know you, to-

“Mmmmm, ‘morning, baby,” you mumbled, rolling over to snuggle into Changbin’s chest—his bare skin was warm and soft, the perfect counterpoint to the cool air of the room. He kissed your hair, wrapping an arm around and shifting so you could fit yourself against the curve of his body.

After a few minutes of gently stroking your back, following the same lines he’d frantically raked nails down the night before, Changbin murmured, “Y/N, love . . . pancakes.” You giggled softly at your boyfriend’s seemingly one-track mind—he’d been exclaiming his joy of making pancakes even before you’d gone to bed.

“Y/N….” Changbin repeated, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck and sending little shivers down your spine. You threw a leg over his, bringing your bodies even closer and noting that pancakes were not the only things Changbin desired. Still not answering, you scrunched your nose against his chest and began to leave little kisses along the lines of his muscles.

“Mmmm?”

“Love, Jisung’s going to be here soon and we should make pancakes so we can all have breakfast.”

You moved your hand from just under your breastbone to between you and Changbin. He moaned as your fingers slid over him, and, suddenly, pancakes were all but forgotten. Changbin pressed himself into your hand as he hardened under your touch, and he began to kiss along your neck, nipping at the skin. You traced the very tip of him with a finger, then ran your hand up and down, still with the same lazy slowness. Changbin’s hands moved to grip your ass, squeezing and placing you on top of him as he rolled onto his back.

Now that you were pressed firmly to Changbin, the obvious hardness of him teased you to no end. His hands still on your ass, gently massaging, your boyfriend pulled you further up his body so that you were chest-to-chest and nearly nose-to-nose. Your lips met, soft and gentle, and you kissed languidly; Changbin swiped his tongue along the seam of your mouth, slipping inside to explore each and every hollow, plane, and crevice of your teeth, your tongue, your lips.

Propping yourself up a little, you sighed as the brush of your skin against his sent pleasurable shivers down your spine. “Baby, please,” you breathed against Changbin’s lips as you slid your body up and down over his, imitating the motion you craved, hungrily kissing him.

“I don’t have a condom on, love,” Changbin said, a laugh coloring his voice. “I—“

“I’m on the pill, Changbin, you know that. And I know that you’re incredibly healthy.” You nipped at his jaw, then begged again. “Please.”

“Y/N, love,” Changbin said not unkindly, “I’m not taking any risks, okay?” He reached out to your bedside table, hand scrabbling a little, then came up with the little foil square.

“You’re right—I just got carried away,” you said, conceding.

“It’s okay, love, really.”

Sighing, you sat back on Changbin’s thighs as he slid the condom on, then stroked him so sweetly and lovingly that he rose and swelled immediately—you may have licked your lips a little. Changbin’s moans at your ministrations were soft, like the sigh of the wind through a field of wheat.

You leaned forward to kiss Changbin and you groaned with pleasure as you joined together, your boyfriend letting you slowly adjust. Changbin’s hands came up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking over them as you continued to kiss, and you rolled your hips, luxuriating in the sensation of him inside you.

It was utterly exquisite.

As you kissed and kissed, sharing breaths and moans of pleasure, you moved together like the ebb and flow of the sea. The little words of encouragement and affection you shared seemed to bare your innermost feelings through their simplicity. Everything was slow and easy, just enjoying the feel of each other—your body felt tight and utterly molten at the same time, your core turned white-hot with desire.

Shifting so Changbin could find that perfect spot, you kissed along his neck, tasting the fine sheen of sweat that had begun to form on his skin. The new angle drove, even pulled, Changbin into you, and his brows knit as little groans low in his throat escaped his lips. Your pleasure began to slide down your spine like the inexorable glide of a glacier, gathering more and more power with every inch.

And finally, the pulsing deep inside seeming to reverberate through your bones, and all you could do was cling to Changbin as you gasped and cried out. The sense of overwhelming bliss was so intense that you thought you would surely cry. Changbin did not slow in his pace, even as you came down from that wondrous high, until his hips stuttered and with a few quick thrusts that forced moaning whines from you, he, too, found his release.

He held you to him, the warmth of your bodies nearly melding you together as your body seemed to refuse to relinquish its hold around him. Once both of you had regained your breath, you once again became two separate people and helped clean each other off.

Cuddling among your nest of pillows, you contented yourself with tracing the planes of Changbin’s stomach as he lazily ran a finger up and down your bicep. Your foreheads nearly touched on the pillow, and when your eyes met from time to time, your smiles were luminous. As always, with Changbin, you felt absolutely serene.

With a jolt, you woke from a light doze next to Changbin and realized that if you didn’t get out of bed right at that moment, there was no way you’d ever get up. Maybe you’d tell Jisung to join the two of you in bed and make a lazy day of it… Just as you were reaching for your phone, though, Changbin slid out of bed and stood with his hands on his hips; you looked up guiltily at him.

“Pancakes,” was all Changbin said.

It was now a tradition for Jisung and Changbin to come over to your apartment on Sunday mornings for pancakes, tea, and more cuddling and soft kisses than you knew what to do with. As Changbin helped watch the pancakes, you could tell something was on his mind, but knew that he’d say something if it was that important. You pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder before finding a spoon with which to scrape the pancake batter down the sides of the bowl.

A moment later, Jisung ambled into the kitchen, hair still slightly disheveled from sleep, his arms entirely swallowed by the hoodie he was wearing. “Hey, babe,” he said, coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. “These smell delicious!” He kissed your cheek, and you hummed in reply, not needing words to express your happiness in seeing him or having his arms around you.

You took the spatula from Changbin and began turning the pancakes, trying your best not to fling them off the griddle. Jisung gave you a tight squeeze, let go of you, and moved two steps to the right to throw his arms around Changbin. “Hey, babe,” he said to him, too. Changbin turned in Jisung’s arms and smoothed his boyfriend’s hair before lightly kissing him.

He leaned against the counter, hands clasped together at the small of Jisung’s back so that Jisung could simply lean into him. You turned your head to see Jisung draped against Changbin’s bare chest so he could look up at the other young man, a syrupy grin on his face.

Your heart swelled with affection for both of them, and you had to brace yourself against the counter for a moment. It was genuinely easy to be with both of them in this new, wonderful relationship. There was so much trust built between you already—Jisung and Changbin’s three years of friendship lending an even firmer foundation to it all—and you knew, with as much certainty as you’d ever felt before, that the three of you were meant to be together.

Soon, the pancakes were done, the tea had brewed, and Changbin and Jisung were still kissing—although, they did pause for a moment to allow you to kiss both of their noses and say, “Time for breakfast, hot stuff.” You lead the way into the living room where you usually ate together, as Changbin went to finally put on a shirt.

↠↞

Changbin leaned back on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest, while Jisung leaned against his shoulder, lightly rubbing his pleasantly full stomach. On Changbin’s other side, your mug of tea was warmth enough for you at the moment.

“Um, I think we need to have a talk,” Changbin said quietly after awhile.

“Is everything- What am I saying, of course something’s up,” Jisung said, concerned—your brows furrowed.

Changbin ran a hand through his hair, then spoke. “First, I want to say that I’m in no way blaming anyone or making them bad or wrong. I just kind of want to know what’s going on.” He took a deep breath. “So, last weekend when I woke up, I ran into Chan in the hallway outside our rooms with a tray of breakfast. I knew he had to have somebody over, since he’d asked me to be somewhere else.” He looked at Jisung, who gave him a wink. “But of course I wasn’t going to ask who, right? But um, Y/N? I think I heard your voice coming out of Chan’s room, and then a lot of giggling. And, well, a really loud moan and Chan saying to be quiet because I was home.” Changbin’s gaze was so earnest and open, while Jisung’s was a bit… pained, perhaps.

You let out a sigh, having known this day would come at some point. “Shit, yeah… that was me,” you admitted, embarrassed despite the fact that both Changbin and Jisung had made you moan and beg and scream far louder than you’d done that morning. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Changbin. I had no idea you were home or anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said, resting a hand on your knee in reassurance.

Jisung made to speak, but you held up a hand. “Could I explain first? Yes, I’ve gone on a few dates with Chan. Yes, we’ve had sex. Once. I hadn’t told you yet because it wasn’t serious and we agreed—“

“But it’s Chan! He’s our best friend, babe,” Jisung blurted.

“And I just met him a couple months ago,” you replied evenly. “Just because he’s your friend doesn’t mean I was going to treat him any differently from any of the other people I’ve seen.”

“So, you’ve been seeing other people even besides Chan?” Changbin wanted to know.

“Not since the middle of December—I’ve got both hands full with you two,” you said, smiling and winking. “Things with Chan kind of snowballed, if that makes sense? After winter break, we came back and he wasn’t so weirdly flirty anymore. And you’ve got to admit, he’s attractive!”

“Y/N, just because someone’s attractive, doesn’t mea—“

“That’s not what I meant, Jisung. Not being flirted at every other day over break allowed me to see that he’s a perfectly lovely guy. It’s been fun.” You shrugged. It wasn’t as if you felt at all toward Chan like you did toward Jisung and Changbin. They were… The bond between all three of you was iron-clad and effervescent, the threads between you weaving together to form a rich tapestry of feelings, responsibilities, and priorities. “I didn’t start going on dates with him with the idea ‘Let me see how fast I can fall in love with this person’ running through my head. I- I thought I made it clear to him that things were just casual. I never promised anything, and he knew we were taking things really slow. I guess something slipped through the cracks.”

There was a beat of silence, then Jisung coughed nervously, looking down at his hands twisting in his lap. “So, you know how I talked with Chan yesterday?” he began, and you and Changbin nodded. “I asked—okay, fine, confronted—Chan about you two.”

“Oh, so that’s what the arguing was about!” Changbin said with exaggerated, only partially feigned surprise.

Jisung blanched. “Um, yeah, sorry. I saw you,” he turned to Y/N, “wearing his compass necklace and kind of lost my head.”

“Oh my god,” you moaned, grimacing. “Are you serious?”

Jisung cackled. “Yeah, sorry. You know how he— Well, I guess you don’t necessarily know, but sometimes he gets really solemn and serious, to the point that it’s almost funny. That’s how it was… Once I finally got it out of him.” Changbin put his head in his hands, knowing just what Jisung meant. “He’s head-over-heels for you, Y/N.”

“Well, shit," you grumbled, not having expected this. "And yet again, Bang Chan is cheesy as hell."

“Yeah… kind of,” Jisung sighed. “But this is different. I don’t think he knows the significance of what he did. I mean, do you even know the significance of what he did?”

“Jisung,” Changbin warned.

“No, you don’t understand. In the three years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Chan take that necklace off. Not even to go swimming. And now he’s given the thing to you!” Jisung threw up his hands, knowing that he probably shouldn’t be telling you any of this; but, he didn’t exactly care right now. “He thinks you’re the one for him, his compass. He was going on and on about how he’d felt like something was missing but now it’s like everything’s fallen into place because of you.”

“I don’t even have the thing anymore,” you felt the need to add quickly. “I slipped it back into his jacket before he left! Wearing it for a week was more than enough. I don’t like to wear chokers much, anyway.”

Jisung raised his eyebrows, not expecting you to have done that. “Really?”

“I mean, it was pretty and I thought it would be rude not to wear it.” Your statement curled up at the end like a question. “It’s not like it’s a binding promise or anything.”

“Oh, okay!” Jisung said with more excitement than was wholly appropriate. “But you might want to tell him that you’re not into him as much as he’s clearly into you.”

“I know, I know, Ji,” you said with a sigh. “I will.”

“Good. I’m glad we got that cleared up,” he said, nodding proudly. “I was worried that you’d somehow decided to break our trust by not telling us you were actually dating him.”

“What?” The word sounded like it had been punched from your gut. “I would never— I- Why would you think that?”

“I didn’t want to think that, but he made it seem like things were more serious than you say they are. I know he falls hard for people, and I trust you, Y/N—I didn’t want to think the worst.” Jisung curled his legs under himself as he settled back into the sofa.

“And what about you?” you demanded of Changbin.

“Me?” Changbin asked, his eyes wide. “I didn’t let myself make assumptions until I’d talked to you.”

Your heart hurt a little at their faith in you, that they didn’t want to believe that you’d go against your agreement, especially with their best friend. “You- You really believed me more than Chan?”

“Eh, it wasn’t between the two of you—not exactly,” Changbin responded. “Since he does fall in love or whatever with surprising depth and speed, and you're definitely sensible and cautious, it was more likely that he was the one misinterpreting things.”

You didn’t know what to say, and so simply leaned forward to gently kiss your boyfriends each in turn, leaving them smiling.

“You know, Jisung,” you said after a minute, “you and Changbin still need to tell Chan that you’re also dating.”

The two young men looked at each other, and you could almost see the words passing between them:

Shit, I didn’t tell him. Did you?

No, I thought you did. Shit.

You giggled.

“Um, yeah you’re probably right.” Jisung tried his best not to look too guilty as he looked away from Changbin. “That’s going to be such a fun conversation.”

“Hey, it’ll be okay, babe,” Changbin reassured Jisung, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

“Yeah, I guess.” Jisung leaned his head against Changbin’s shoulder, and a quiet moment stretched between you.

“So, we’ll tell him we’re dating if you tell him that you’re dating both of us. Deal?” Changbin said more understandingly than you thought you deserved.

“Deal,” you said, smiling a sideways grin.

“Deal,” Jisung agreed.

“Okay, not to totally break the mood or anything, but I have to pee,” you stated, standing up. “I’ll be right back, babies.”

A moment after you left the room, Jisung curled closer to Changbin. He absolutely did not want things to change between the three of you. Of that much he was certain, especially not when you’d just affirmed an even closer relationship than before. He didn’t want Chan’s relationship or whatever it was with you coming between what you already had with himself and Changbin. Jisung whispered, “I just didn’t want him to take her from us. Am I a bad person for wanting that?”

Changbin took a deep breath. “No,” he replied, “I don’t think so. I was thinking the same thing.”

“What should we do, then?”

“I don’t think we should do anything, Ji,” Changbin said simply. “It’s their relationship.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Love, it’s their relationship and they should figure it out. In terms of us, it’s clear she’s not going anywhere.” His tone was firm, as if Changbin couldn’t—wouldn’t—consider an alternative.

Jisung nodded and turned his face into Changbin’s shoulder to plant a kiss there, holding his lips against his friend and lover’s body. Just then, you came back into the room and sat squarely in Changbin’s lap with your legs over Jisung.

The two young men adjusted their positions slightly to accommodate you, the three of you falling into each other with such ease that one would have thought you’d been dating for years. You sighed and relaxed into Changbin’s chest, Jisung pulling you closer across Changbin’s lap as the two of you now nuzzled your boyfriend. The smell of your soap still clung to Changbin’s skin, and, despite having only been awake for three hours, you felt yourself drifting towards sleep in the comfortable embrace of your boyfriends. Jisung’s hand gently rubbed circles into your hip.

“You know,” Jisung said after a while, “I stopped seeing other people back in December when you said were jealous and had deeper feelings than you’d previously thought.”

“Where’s this coming from, Ji?” you mumbled, shifting a bit so that you sat nearly between him and Changbin. “You don’t have to reassure me or defend yourself or something.”

“It’s not that—I just wanted to tell you that because once we got together, I was so comfortable and into you that I didn’t feel like I wanted or needed to see anybody else.” Jisung leaned forward and somehow managed to wedge himself between you and Changbin, successfully resting his face against your breasts—this was not uncommon.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmmm” was his only answer as he closed his eyes.

“Not that I’d been dating other people at the same time as you,” Changbin added, kissing your hair, “but I care about you just as much as I know Jisung does. And that’s a considerable amount, love.”

You smiled softly, hardly daring to believe that you had two such caring and devoted, not to mention sexy, boyfriends who also cared just as much about each other. It was more than you’d ever expected or dreamed. As you sat there in the blissful place between sleep and wakefulness, you were overcome with the depth of your feelings for Jisung and Changbin. It didn’t scare you, no. And for that, you were glad.

A twinge of remorse flitted through you at the knowledge that your feelings were not nearly as strong for Chan, but you didn’t know him as well. Even when you’d known and been seeing Jisung and Changbin for the same amount of time, your feelings had still been stronger than what you felt for Chan. Plus, there wasn’t the same sense of being pulled inexorably toward both Jisung and Changbin like you were magnets. You couldn’t escape it even if you’d wanted to—and you most certainly didn’t.

All you could do was bring your lips to Changbin’s and kiss him over and over, until Jisung sensed what was happening and sat up to pull you against him instead. Jisung’s lips were soft and warm, like the most silken caramel you could imagine, and you were soon fully awake and kissing passionately as Changbin’s hand smoothed the muscles up and down your back. Jisung’s little moans at being so thoroughly happy and comfortable were the sweetest thing you’d ever heard.

When you raked your fingers through his hair, he became utterly lost to your touch, whining and running his hands over as much of you as he could. Changbin’s hand had moved from Jisung’s shoulders to his thigh, slowly moving higher and higher; he wouldn’t stray any further, but it was enough to make Jisung wriggle. You continued threading your fingers through his hair as Changbin smoothed his thumb along your cheekbone and you kissed along Jisung’s jaw until you encountered the slightly calloused but soft skin of Changbin’s palm. Your lips simply slid from one curving line to another as you leaned into Changbin’s touch.

Limbs, breaths, kisses utterly intermingled and where one person ended and the others began was nearly indistinguishable as the soft caresses between the three of you continued. As wave after wave of tenderness washed over you, the intensity of emotion you felt threatened to make you cry. You knew that what you felt came very, very close to love.

↠↞

Seated at the small table by the window of your usual cafe and sipping on a latte, you waited for Chan to arrive. Snow flurries danced along the street, whipped about by a surprisingly insistent wind. It had been a week and a half since Jisung had confronted him about seeing you, and, while you’d texted and called each other, this was the first time you’d seen Chan. The bell above the door of the cafe tinkled as he came through the door, shaking snow from his hair. Chan’s ears and cheeks were bright red from the cold, making him look ten years younger and extremely cute.

You stood as he approached and squished his cheeks a little between your hands while kissing his nose… to warm him up, of course. Chan laughed, and pulled you into a one-armed hug as he began to shrug off his jacket before taking a seat.

“So, what’s up, darling?” he said, leaning forward on the table to face you.

“Well, I wanted to talk about us,” you said frankly, wishing you could muster more tact and failing.

“Oh, okay.” Chan looked only marginally surprised, and waited for you to continue.

“Jisung told me that he talked to you that one day we all baked cookies together,” you began. “Do you- Do you really feel that way?”

Chan was silent for a moment. “What way?”

“Like I’m… Like I’m your compass?”

“Yeah, I do.” His voice was absolutely serious.

“Oh, Chan,” you breathed, putting your face in your hands. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”

“Y/N…” Chan said, not understanding and reaching across the table for you.

“Chan, I’m really not sure what to say,” you murmured, looking back up at him. “I wasn’t expecting you to feel that strongly for me so soon.”

Chan’s hand paused just inches from your hand and he slowly drew it back to his side before speaking. “Is it that you don’t feel the same?”

“I—“ You paused. “Sorry, this is surprisingly hard. Chan, it’s not that I don’t like you or am not interested. I’m just not at the same level of feeling as you, that’s all. I don’t want you to think that I’m ready to be yours forever or something.”

Chan balked slightly, your words clearly hitting just a little too close to home. He looked down at the table, his throat bobbing once as he swallowed. “I understand. Is this why you didn’t tell Jisung we’d gone on a couple dates? Because it wasn’t as serious for you?”

“Yes,” you said simply, knowing you were treading on dangerous ground.

“Ah. Well, we can go slowly, Y/N. It’s okay.” Chan’s tone was resolute, as if he wanted to simply make everything better by stating that it would be.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to somehow shackle you when you could be with someone who’s on your same level emot—“

“I’d much rather be with you, darling,” Chan interrupted with a soft smile.

“O-okay,” you nodded. You sat there for a moment, just staring at your hands as fiddled with your thumb.

“Shall we have some tiramisu, then?” Chan asked with a wink, trying his best to break the somber mood.

You let out a huff of air that could have been a laugh. “Sure, Chan, that sounds good.”

↠↞

Changbin sighed happily as he leaned back on his couch, a glass of wine in one hand and Jisung’s hand in the other. They’d been watching a television show earlier, but now just sat together, reminiscing. Now that they’d realized and admitted their feelings for each other, and were dating, they both saw the myriad ways in which their mutual attraction had manifested over the years, unbeknownst to them. Mostly unbeknownst to them.

Jisung sat facing Changbin on the couch, one leg thrown over his lap and the other tucked under himself, tracing the lines of his boyfriend’s body. When he reached Changbin’s ear, he took his time following the spiraling shape until he then moved to his jaw.

“Bin, whatcha thinking about?” Jisung said, tilting his head to the side as he traced the faint scar on Changbin’s chin.

“The first time I realized how I felt about you,” Changbin replied, smiling lazily.

“Was that the day by the lake? With the duck?”

“How did you know?”

“Well, you know,” Jisung purred, “I thought you looked cute as hell that day, too.”

“I- Really? I could’ve sworn you had absolutely no interest. None. I still can’t believe this is real.” Changbin’s tone was wondering.

“Yeah, I did. And yeah, this is real,” Jisung reassured him, kissing his earlobe and making Changbin shiver. “I’ve definitely liked you since then. So much, babe, you have no idea.”

Changbin turned his face to Jisung and caught the other young man’s lips with his own, smiling at the slightly sweet taste of him. Jisung swiped his tongue along the seam of Changbin’s mouth and he moaned as they came together, searching every hollow and plane of each other’s mouths. Kiss after kiss, some lingering and some heated. Jisung’s hands were in Changbin’s hair as their passion consumed them, while Changbin took care to hold Jisung like he was the most precious thing he’d ever known.

They broke the kiss, gasping slightly, and Jisung brought Changbin’s hand to his lips, kissing the space behind his thumb before turning his boyfriend’s hand over to kiss the inside of his wrist. Changbin’s mouth quirked up in what might have been a smirk before the other side joined its opposite to create a softly radiant smile that made his eyes sparkle.

Just as Jisung was leaning in to kiss Changbin again—and maybe more, if he had anything to say about it—the door to the apartment clicked open and Chan’s voice floated down the hall.

“Changbin? You home, man?”

“Aw, come on,” Changbin groaned, and tried to think of a nice, freezing cold bath.

Jisung quickly scooted away down the couch from Changbin, running a hand through his hair before taking a sip from his own glass of wine. “We should really tell him,” he murmured just as Chan entered the living room.

“Oh, hey Jisung,” he said, smiling happily at having his two best friends there.

“Hey, Chan.”

“So, what were you two up to—wine?” The latter part of the question was said with only a small amount of surprise. Chan enjoyed a nice glass of Pino Grigio every now and then.

“We were just watching TV and drinking a little,” Jisung answered.

“Hey, Chan,” Changbin started, “could we talk with you about something? It’s important.”

“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

“Well, I have no idea how else to say this— Um, yeah. We know we’re all friends, so this should be okay and all… And we know you’re accepting and understanding.” Changbin sounded more nervous than he’d been in a long time, even to his own ears. “So, yeah. We’re dating. Jisung and I are dating.” Jisung nodded in affirmation. “And we’re both dating Y/N. We’re all dating each other, actually.”

Chan stared at him for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, okay. I see it. I’d wondered if there was something more going on back at the beginning of the month. So, you two are happy? The three of you are happy?” He tried his best not to sound accusatory, despite having no reason to be; he just wanted the best for these three people he cared about so much.

“We are,” Jisung said, beaming and gently rubbing Changbin’s knee to help soothe him. “And I know Y/N is, too.”

Chan just nodded again and said, “Well, I’m glad that you two have found even more happiness. And I’m glad that you can make Y/N happy, too. Oh, and don’t worry—this doesn’t affect 3racha.” He smiled. “Look, I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll see you both later, yeah?”

“See you!” Changbin and Jisung chorused, then went back to cuddling as soon as Chan left the room.

Chan opened the door to his bedroom and sighed. He was happy for his best friends, he really was. They had something together that he didn’t have with either of them—not in a romantic way, but just as friends. And… He sighed again, leaning against the now closed door. And, he was happy that you had both of them in your life so thoroughly.

It was just that, well, he felt a little pushed to the side. After all, he was friends with Jisung and Changbin, and he was seeing you—albeit casually—but he still didn’t feel like everything had shifted properly into place. Maybe there was something missing with you. Maybe 3racha just needed to get in the studio again…

↠↞

It was the beginning of April, and the pollen had started to get to you. You let your head thump softly onto the desk in front of you, your pen slipping from your fingers to fall onto the what was soon becoming the bane of your existence: your final poetry project. It was maddening, trying to find just the right words and scansion, not to mention metaphors and allusions. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t eaten since noon, but your body felt like a withered corn husk. And, your mind would burst, if you weren’t careful; you couldn’t afford to let that happen, not three-quarters of the way through your last semester.

On the desk beside you, your phone buzzed and you checked it to see a text from Chan:

channie: hey darling <3 are we still on for tonight?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

You’d almost forgotten about your date with Chan, and now that he’d so kindly reminded you… Well, it would be rude to cancel now but you just didn’t have the energy.

You didn’t have the energy to be with Chan more often than not these days. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—you were just busy. Really fucking busy. He was fun to kiss and cuddle and be intimate with, but you didn’t have the mental fortitude to actively be interested.

It was difficult to describe… You were certainly physically attracted to Chan, and found him engaging and fun to be around. But, there was something missing. Perhaps you’d been thrust into a time-loop where Chan was concerned—that would explain the way every single one of your dates felt the same these days. You didn’t feel like your, for lack of a better word, relationship was going anywhere, like your emotions and the time you spent together were static.

He was so deeply interested in and attracted to you that you sometimes wondered if you actually felt anything for him and if all of this was simply you reflecting his own desire back at him. But then you’d come to your senses and remember how much seeing his little dimple appear would make you grin and giggle to no end.

And now, you should really respond to Chan.

y/n: hey channie. um, i’m absolutely exhausted from this poetry project… could we maybe not do anything tonight? channie: sure baby! want me to just bring over some food and we can do or not do whatever you like! y/n: i- chan, i’m sorry. i meant: can we not get together tonight. i literally don't have the energy to deal with other people channie: aww sorry you’re feeling like that. sure, darling, whatever you need. maybe we can see each other tomorrow! y/n: wow your optimism knows no bounds…. [UNSENT]

Now you were even more tired and just wanted to curl up under the covers and never come out. That would solve all your problems, right? So, with the blanket snugly pulled over your head, you drifted off to sleep.

An hour later your phone buzzed again, waking you up, but it was Jisung this time. You weren’t quite sure how he knew you needed comforting, but he did and said he’d be over soon. You rolled over at the feeling of another body depressing the mattress, and let Jisung enfold you in his arms.

The next day, Chan did come over to find you sitting on your couch with a mug of tea in one hand and a scone in the other. (Jisung was going through a bit of a baking phase, and had insisted that you try one of his cranberry and orange scones). You hadn’t gotten out of bed until an hour before Chan was due to arrive, and your hair was still piled on top of your head in a messy topknot. Chan, on the other hand, looked far too awake and put-together, even in just jeans and a sweatshirt, for a Saturday morning.

“I brought us lunch,” he said, setting a bag down on the coffee table and flopping down beside you. “I hope you’re in the mood for sandwiches, because that’s all I had time to make.”

“It’s fine, Chan. I’ve got more scones than I know what to do with. Did Ji give you any?”

“No,” Chan said, shaking his head, “I think he must have given them all to you and Changbin. That little traitor.”

You stood briefly to turn in place and curl your feet back under you on the couch, much like a cat would, then took a sip of tea. Your heart pounded slightly faster than you would have liked. “I’m sure you’ll get scones at some point.”

“I’d better…” Chan began pulling four sandwiches from his bag, clearly having thought that Jisung and Changbin would stop by.

“You didn’t have to bring all of those,” you said, frowning. “They’re not coming over.”

“Hmm? Oh, no. I brought two for me and two for you—they’re not that big, so I’m almost certain that you’ll want two.”

“Pffftt, really?” you asked incredulously, then took a closer look at the food. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

The two of you sat and stared at the sandwiches for a moment, Chan clearly wanting to break into them, while you couldn’t care less. You stared out your window at the new growth on the trees.

“Don’t you want to eat?” Chan finally asked.

“Eh, not really. Like I said: scone.”

Chan seemed to think for a moment, then said, “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Um, well… Damn it.” You sighed gustily, and set down your mug before turning to Chan on the couch. “Chan, I have no idea how else to say this…”

“It’s okay, I’ll listen, darling.”

You pursed your lips, biting your bottom lip. “Chan, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t try to feel things I don’t. I can’t try to sustain a relationship that feels like an obligation. I hate feeling like that because you don’t deserve to be with someone who can’t put one hundred percent into their relationship with you.” Chan’s face fell. “Things are just so busy for me right now, what with graduation coming in less than two months, all these projects and papers—everything. Plus, there’s Jisung and Changbin.

“I do like you Chan, and I do like spending time with you. And you’re wonderful in bed, don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you. I’ve just— If I’m going to be with you, too, then I want to devote the proper time to building that relationship, instead of catching bits and pieces when there’s time. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Chan admitted resignedly. “I respect your feelings and choices, if you want to stop seeing each other. I’m sorry you feel like us being together has become an obligation. That must not feel good, yeah?” You shook your head, grateful for how understanding he was being. “If you only want to see each other randomly or just have it be like friends-with-benefits—whatever’s fine with me. I’d just love to keep seeing you somehow.”

You thought for a moment, sipping on your tea again. Not having any expectations for your relationship with Chan would certainly make things easier…

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed. “Maybe we can just see each other when we have time and if we decide to make-out or go to bed or whatever, then okay? More like just enjoying each other’s company rather than trying to date?” You looked to Chan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire conversation. “How does that sound?”

“Anything you want, Y/N. Anything.” Chan gave you a sad little smile, then stood. “I’ll just leave the sandwiches and everything here. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, anyway. I- I just need to go be by myself, if that’s okay. Bye, Y/N.” With that, Chan hurried from your apartment, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head as he did so.

You sighed to yourself once the door clicked shut, and got up to make yourself another cup of tea. By the time the water had boiled and you were back on the couch, your thoughts had ordered themselves.

Sure, Chan thought of you as his compass, the thing—well, person—guiding him and keeping him on track; he thought of you as an anchor. But you had something similar. You had a far stronger compass forged from two beings who, no matter how far you strayed, would always point you toward each other, toward home. Jisung and Changbin were your true north.

#inkidz #stayhavennet #stayracha #0325net #ultkpop #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan #seo changbin #han jisung #3racha #.moonlight

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plutoswrath · 4 years ago

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hi! what do you think about harsh aspects with saturn in a synastry? i have a few harsh aspects with my crush and i got a little bit worried because some websites talk about these aspects in such a negative way that it scared me... could you give your opinion about those and other harsh aspects in synastry? thank you. 🥺💓

Hello! Short disclaimer: I can understand your worries, but in astrology we always need to consider that eventually we choose what to make out of the potential presented to us. Saturn, no matter if it’s positive, neutral or negative can bring growth and thus has the potential to lead to longevity. And this absolutely counts for every harsh aspect! Also, in general people should not be afraif of seeing a at least a few harsh aspects to Satun in synastry. I know there are charts with less/completely unaspected planets, but it should be considered normal to have harsh aspects in synastry and not always indicated as a sign of doom.

With harsh Saturn aspects (I have written a similar post about harsh natal aspects with Saturn, you can look it up if you want to! x) it is always a lesson for eahc own, individual life path. The lesson here is for both, but the person that is Saturn will be the judge, the one limitating, while the otehr planet person will feel somehow restricted and unaccepted/judged maybe. The planet person often times will either see it as a wake up call of realizing the self and growing more into them, overcoming limits and giving own boundaries, and/or they will use Saturn criticism to realize their own weak points and define and polihs themself, especially in order to become more practical. That being said, Saturn will become more conscious of their set in stone world views, fears and at best, will allow themself to grow and consider the otehr side of the coin. This doesn’t mean they will lose their individuality, but will discover more room to grow inside their own individuality. I think this is something that is very profound in harsh Saturn aspects. It’s about me/us and an itruder, an external force that threatens us aka the hardship/fear that minfested in Saturn and thus can also show up physically. Saturn involves profound karmic lessons.

Harsh aspects with Sun deal with the ego, our foundation we base everything on, something we can not get rid of, even if we wanted to. The Sun person usually feels rejected and the problem is that it’s hard for them to change because how can you change/deny yourself in order to make something work? Shouldn’t they like you for who you truly are? The other planet person usually aims for compromise, for the sun person to make an exception in certain situations (this would be the themes of the planet involved). Depending on the other planet involved, it can be easier to adjust or not, but Sun usually has to rethink their sense of self. But again, this isn’t hopless either, it just affords a willingness to be openminded for change without losing face.

Harsh aspects with Moon can be tricky as it’s one of the most important planets to consider in snyastry. Everything is important in synastry(!), but there are planets I would focus on more first when makinga quick, basic rundown, and this defenitely includes Moon. If Moon is malnourished it wil show most of the time quickly in the dynamic. Moon can quickly feel unloved, scared to open up because of feeling misunderstood, or even worse it can trigger some sort of hidden painful memories/trauma that caused Moon to prioritize in life/a relationship exactly what they crave for now. Planet person usually can not (easily) provide for Moon on this (planets theme) level and can feel easily burdened. But this can also count for Moon, depending on how Moon decided to deal with the neglect (look at sign here and natal aspects with moon). This calls for a deep emotional understanding of how both function and getting behind it. Here we have to look at the bigger picture of Moon and planet person. This calls for depth, honesty and understanding.

Harsh aspects with Venus usually indicates a difference in love languages and ideals. Venus shows us how we live out ur relations of any kind, not only romantic. If Venus is neglected or feels misunderstood, creating romantic feelings in a relationship is hard. The difference to Moon here is, that Moon is also responsible for romantic feelings, but Moon can take on a more practical side on order to function in general, while Venus specifically give the magic that romance is. Venus also connects to individuality, this is something we need to manifest in our world and in our lives in order to live peacefully. Whenever Venus is in harsh aspect it can manifest in immediate ‘turn offs’, something that just makes you believe you could never ‘click’ - but oppositions and squares nutoriously known for creating attraction as well, so both is possible. What you want to manifest in order to feel comfortable, and what others need to give you manifest your Venus and live out your individuality is challenged here and the way you love or the other ones loves feels wrong or unfulfilling. Both need to become familiar with each others love language/individuality and need to decide of compromise is possible or if the differences are too big, leaving Venus dissatisfied and neglected, unappreciated.

Harsh aspects with Mars can lead to attraction or competition. Mars is direct sexual energy, meaning it’s the force that keeps us moving. Mars can enjoy a challenge because the planet Mars is assertive in it’s nature, but if Mars needs are neglected or challenged this can turn one away from teh other. Mars needs to be given what it naturally chases after (look at sign here) in order for Mars to keep that energy going, still being intrested, still searching for ways to make things work, etc. Whenever Mars is challenged, it can try to force its will or just give up. When Mars energy is repressed by another planet, the Mars person can easily lose a sense of direction and become directionless. Mars needs to be able to follow their instincts, because Mars can not change it’s sense of direction. You can not make a Leo out of a Pisces Mars, because the sense of direction, the way the person takes action would change completely, meaning they’d become someone intirely different. And that’s not really possible.

#tropicvlgolds #replies #synastry #astrology #Saturn #mars #Venus #moon #sun #synastry aspects

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itsfunorwhateva · 4 years ago

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Sweet Creature

Hi! I’m back with some more of an analysis type post! I hope this helps with a deeper understanding. I’ve provided sources where I got my information. I really tried to set this up and write this in a very informational/analysis way so it isn’t strictly an opinion. Also I want to say I haven’t read the entirety of Othello, but I have read some scenes and read complete analysis of the play to write this. Without further ado... Sweet Creature.

While it seems that some people have a general understanding that Sweet Creature by Harry Styles references the tragedy, Othello written by William Shakespeare, most people don’t get why that is huge, not only in terms of Harry making this decision, but also in support of Sweet Creature being about Louis Tomlinson.

So I’m going to break this into three parts to help make this make the most sense.

1. The reference Harry Styles makes in his song, to the play Othello

2. Why an Othello reference is huge; more on the play

3. William Shakespeare and his sexuality/coding in other works

These will make more sense with further explanation(duh), but I’m hoping this will connect the dots. Also, a quick disclaimer before we begin, this information is coming off of google searches, and analysis that I’m reading, and some from information I researched for a research paper on William Shakespeare. I am in no way an expert on song analysis, literature analysis, or on William Shakespeare and his personal life. I really just hope to give people a base to start themselves on more research, and understanding of the topic. Happy reading!

1. The reference Harry Styles makes in his song, to the play Othello

Now there is not much to dig up or uncover here as the reference is actually pretty obvious. The term Sweet Creature, in which the song is titled, is said to have originated from the play Othello. Act 3, Scene 3, specifically is where the term of endearment (this is important to note, Sweet Creature is used as a term of loving, endearment) is first seen.

“In sleep I heard him say ‘Sweet Desdemona, Let us be wary, let us hide our loves.’ And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand, Cry ‘O sweet creature!’ and then kiss me hard“ (Othello III, iii ,428-432).

Some context for these lines of dialogue Act 3, Scene 3 is Iago telling Othello about his wife cheating on him. The scene has multiple instances of Iago expressing love for Othello, basically saying how Iago would not be telling Othello this if he didn’t love him so much. More on that for our next section. This first appearance of the term “sweet creature” is Iago telling Othello what he heard a man speak to Othello’s wife while the two were in bed together, all in a dream. Now the idea of cheating is not something to be too hung up on, but this is the context in which sweet creature first appears. While the term, Sweet Creature, is said form man to women - it is revealed to the husband from another man. Iago in which it is said may have homosexual desires/feeling towards Othello in this play. Personally I believe that Iago almost uses the term as a way to convince Othello that his wife is being loved by someone else, and maybe Othello should leave her to be with someone, like Iago, that could love him better.

Sources for this section!

Harry Styles References Othello in new Single, Sweet Creature

https://genius.com/a/harry-styles-references-shakespeare-s-othello-on-new-single-sweet-creature#:~:text=The%20song's%20title%2C%20%E2%80%9CSweet%20Creature,originate%20in%20William%20Shakespeare's%20Othello.

Othello play

https://www.sparknotes.com/nofear/shakespeare/othello/page_166/

2. Why an Othello reference is huge; more on the play

Deeper meanings behind the characters and the play obviously take a bit more time and effort to really understand. Depending on what angle and the kind of understanding you have about the characters and situation in Othello you’ll think one way or another. Othello is partially about homosexuality (in a way that it is not the whole plot, but it does play a major part if you understand the context/characters). Not everyone thinks this and it’s normally not brought in class discussion/normal educational settings, but the fact remains.

There are a few things throughout the plays that hint towards the characters sexualities. When looked at in the right light and context it can help make sense of not only Harry Styles’ reference, and way choosing Othello to reference is kind of a big deal, but also a better understanding of the play. One article writes, “In William Shakespeare’s The Tragedy of Othello the Moor of Venice Shakespeare leaves the character of Iago’s sexuality to be questioned. Although Iago has a wife, he drops slight hints throughout the play that he has homosexual thoughts or feelings toward other characters, but he uses his position in the military and his fear to suppress these feelings. These “hints” are shown through his wildly questionable story about Michael Cassio, his word choice when describing Othello, and his discourse with Rodrigo” (Homosexuality in Othello).

The character Iago is a military officer, and it shouldn’t take a genius to understand that being in the military and being homosexual only equal no good. The American policy in the military of “don’t ask, don’t tell” was/is a more modern day policy but still shows how military personal were/are expected and required to act in regards to being homosexual. Simply speaking, don’t. Now thinking even more to Shakespearean time, an even greater restriction was likely in place for homosexuality and the military. This part of the character, Iago, is likely a huge reason people overlook any thought of the character having homosexual desires/thoughts.

Even if you remove the circumstances surrounding Iago, and him being a military officer there are some others things throughout the play that hint towards possible homosexual desire/feelings. Iago is constantly informing Othello of his love for the other man, claiming to always be Othello’s, should he want him. Some of this can be chalked up to the language of the time, in being, love was used for both friend, and lover, but the extent in which Iago professes may hint towards something deeper. Others things include, Iago claiming to have “lay with” Cassio, another male character, and while some say this is simply in the barracks as fellow soldiers, others think this could have been to hint at being lovers.

One other thing that isn’t necessarily the play at face value, but still supports the idea of Iago being homosexual, is that actors throughout history have chosen to play him either as a straight or gay characters. While, this could simply be a creative decision based on an actor individually, it still seems a bit huge. If nothing in the text supported Iago being gay, there would not be actors playing him this way.

Sources for this section!

Homosexuality in Othello

https://www.cram.com/essay/Homosexuality-In-Othello/P3Z2W7LCX5Q

Is Iago Gay in Othello?

https://www.arogundade.com/homosexuality-in-shakespeare-is-iago-gay-in-othello.html

3. William Shakespeare and his sexuality/coding in other works

Final section is really just me helping you understand the feasibility of William Shakespeare writing his characters this way. There’s essentially two parts to understanding this and I’m going to try and help this make the most sense without going too overboard. One part is going to be how William Shakespeare has written other works. I’m going to focus more on his sonnets because I’ve already researched them for a paper in school, but they still stand with this point. The second part is going to be William Shakespeare’s own sexuality and why this is going to affect his written work.

Ok, so the sonnets.

“The sonnets have a contrasting set of subjects - one set chronicles the poet's lust for a married woman with a dark complexion, known as The Dark Lady, while the other describes a conflicted or confused love for a young man, known as the "fair youth."‘ (William Shakespeare, his Life, Works, and Influence).

So the sonnets were pretty revolutionary, exploring concepts such as love, lust, and even same sex relationships. This is observed in Shakespeare’s use of gender neutral terms and male pronouns, depending on the sonnet. This is pretty huge. When I did a sonnet analysis I chose two sonnets, which I’ll provide (Sonnet 18 and 29 - both are pretty well known and brought up in regarded to hidden messages/meanings). Both used pronouns that were either male or neutral, something that has been used forever to queer code in works, so do with that information what you will. A common analysis, is that William Shakespeare often wrote from personal experience, more so in his poems and sonnets, then in his plays, but nonetheless.

Second part, Shakespeare’s own sexuality. William Shakespeare was married to a women, but that doesn’t exactly say much. Men were known to get married because it is the thing to do, without necessarily having any feelings or desires towards said women.

When Shakespeare’s sexuality comes into question there a few things that are addressed. I definitely recommend reading the first source for this section, “Was Shakespeare Gay?”, it gives you a really good analysis and explores so many faucets of the question. I’m going to sum up the article and you can either read more or just take what I’ll explain.

The article explains that when looking at Shakespeare’s works he is really good at getting into the minds of his characters, without necessarily having the experience to match the character, i.e. writing from Cleopatra’s perspective, or from a gay man’s perspective. However on the flip side of that, when Shakespeare writes of same sex experiences, he seems to have a wide variety of knowledge of very specific references and experiences, maybe leaning towards him having these experiences. People point out that Shakespeare’s sonnets are his most personal works, and imagine that, they are also the ones that reference same sex attraction and love. Now of course there is way more in the source, but here’s what I think are the most important/key points. It’s important to remember that sexuality is only able to be labeled by the person, but from different works, and cultural ideals, there are certain things to be said about Shakespeare himself.

Sources for this section!

Was Shakespeare Gay?

https://www.shakespeare.org.uk/explore-shakespeare/podcasts/lets-talk-shakespeare/was-shakespeare-gay/

William Shakespeare, his Life, Works, and Influence

https://www.williamshakespeare.net/

Sonnet 18

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45087/sonnet-18-shall-i-compare-thee-to-a-summers-day

Sonnet 29

https://www.williamshakespeare.net/sonnet-29.js

Finally

Thank you for reading and I hope this made you think a bit. I want to repeat that I am in no way an expert, nor am I claiming to be. You are more than welcome to think whichever way you want about this information and I invite you to do your own further research. I hope this helped explain the reference and the importance of said reference in Harry Styles’, “Sweet Creature”. Thank you for reading, let me know what you think, and as always TPWK. xx

#harry styles #louis tomlinson #louis and harry #harry and louis #larry stylinson #larry is real #sweet creature #shakespeare #is shakespeare gay #queer coding

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the-bjd-community-confess · 3 years ago

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More Divaz confos

Mod: Round two of these, previously: link. There’s some interesting customer reviews in this batch (5 and 8) which may be useful to readers.

1.Vic3mage "the secret bjdivaz vip group is just pictures of boxes coming in and going out". Yeah, between the bitching about d0llshe, asking people to post on doa for them, dunking on ex-customers, posting pics of random doll parts that they can't identify which doll they're supposed to go with, whining about how little money they make, whining when ppl e-mail them, whining. Yeah, other than that it's just boxes, and alpacas u can buy off amazon anyway lol.

~Anonymous

2.The butthurt users crying and guilttripping under every Divaz confession who have never been seen before elsewhere on this blog are extremely unsuspicious and unproblematic and definitely unconnected to Divaz and unbiased in every possible way

~Anonymous

3.idk shit abt bjd1vas but v1cemage i can absolutely tell you the shit about ch0o is 100% accurate, fucker's got a long, long history of being an awful little man that stretches well beyond his involvement in the doll community. between the two i'd still trust bjd1vas over ch00 ch00 the fool any day!

~Anonymous

4.The Z3st and Div4s thing is really silly and both entities were being shady but did they really have to take the DZ waiting room down with them? :( He had even made a separate thread about it......

~Anonymous

5. RE: BJD Divaz

I’ve been a customer of BJD Divaz since they first started, when it was only run by Chart3rline. I even contacted other BJD companies trying to persuade them to work with Divaz as their US representative. Most declined because they didnt like D's commission fee, but I was able to persuade a few of them.

I asked them to purchase a doll off DOA because I couldnt afford the asking price, and while they did, I found out later that instead of agreeing to purchase the seller's price, they negotiated the price to be lower. This significantly cheaper price was not passed down to me. I paid the full price +the commission fee based on that full price. I am disappointed I was not told this. This is when I stopped viewing them as a "friend" and instead, as a business. I dont hold this against them, it’s context to what Im going to say later.

I’ve stopped purchasing from D after my recent order from them. This company usually takes 3 or less months to make a doll. I’ve ordered the doll from D and it took 11 months. They let me know it arrived to them in March and that it will be shipped soon, except it only shipped on July, and only after I sent them several "reminder" emails. Before people in the comments try to put the blame on me for not sending a reminder soon, please keep in mind that I acknowledged the email in March and confirmed everything and they keep stressing to not send them emails because they are busy, I’ve emailed once every month since. I’ve since switched to ACBJD and Ive been happy with communication and the dolls ordered. I imagine ACBJD gets the same amount of emails, but they dont berate their customers if they email more than once.

I regret when people wanted a D0llshe, but not deal with him, I always recommended D. I would warn people of ordering directly and instead go through D. They assured buyers they would be handling communication and all the efforts so they wouldnt worry, except they didn’t. A person that I’ve recommended D to, who surpassed 2 years, keeps messaging me for help because D wouldnt reply to their emails. She is respectful, sweet and a timid person, not a Karen. This person, emailed D without a reply so would email a week later, only to be told that their email would be pushed down to the bottom if emailed again. No response, so she goes to FB and IG, who both tell her to email because they arent the person running orders. Finally got a response that they would get their refund, after D0llshe sends D's payment, but minus the PP fees. 3 months later and theres no refund, only a promise of them getting it later. Why is the customer missing out on fees when they have no doll? Customer emails d0llshe and he says he cant offer refund, because they didn’t order through them, which is understandable, but when all options are out for a customer, do you blame them for chargebacks?

If anyone files a chargeback, D will be blacklisting them from every company they rep, as in blacklisting you from buying direct from those companies. I urge everyone who has negative experiences with D to email the companies they rep instead of venting on confession blogs, and writing your experiences on social media. Make it count and send letters to the companies they represent, and please provide proof because they will try to make you out to be a liar.

Speaking of, they made vague posts on cl0ver singing for charging paypal fees, and that they offer guarantees as an official dealer, except when offering refunds, to non delivered products I might add, they are keeping the fees, and offered no help with d0llshe, even before they ended their dealership with them. Someone on DOA was told to not email them unless the wait time surpassed 1.5 years. They are even so petty that they post screenshots with the full name and address (dox) of the customer on purpose and then delete it out a day later as if they just realized their "mistake".

Before you try to make excuses for them about the fires, keep in mind, I am dealing with a business. The lower price negotiation with the DOA sale, I am in no way obligated to give them a pass or treat them as a friend when they made it clear that our relationship is strictly business. Their issues, are not my issues. D0lk got dragged for not shipping in time, others, including artisans, got dragged for being so late with communication and sending back refunds for cancelled orders. Why does D get to be exempt?

The supporters are the worst part of this, because of instead of being honest so D can improve, they support them for being "real". For example, look how micemage words it, to make it seem like this criticism is from one person, when there are people on addicts who didn’t have good experience. Check the bjd dealers tag here, you will see the supporters in the comments going off on any and all criticism of D. Some have sane comments, but the majority are cult like and try to identify the person venting as if it’s one person. Addicts deletes threads with criticism asking people to instead direct it to their feedback group; which lets be honest, no one is going to do because its "not that bad", and most dont want to join a new group, which is mostly dead.

This is my first and last confession on D, I’ve emailed each company they rep and told them my experience as well as contacting the 3 month wait company, with screenshots of my order, how they handled it, and the excuse they used to put blame on the company for being so late (package arrived march to D, 4 months to be shipped is on D, not the company). I’m not using company or order details because I know they are petty enough to try to identify me and publicly shame me like they have to others. This and the threat of suing is why not many people like to go public with their experience. They just keep feedback neutral, move on and never deal with again.

~Anonymous

6. Listen, I can't take you seriously in regards to BJD!vas because you're posting on a confession blog. If you were serious, you would have posted in buyer beware groups, DoA reviews or the board to get things resolved, or you would have made a complaint to the BBB. And your language makes you come off more as someone with an agenda rather than someone who is trying to warn people. If shipping is the issue, stop buying with standard shipping and pay the extra price for express shipping. I saw one of you complain that it sat with them for 20 days; that's probably because you're not the only one and they more than likely have a queue to check and then ship out. Do mistakes happen? Yes, because we're human. I've been in this hobby for a few years now and it seems like most people know you're going to have to wait, sometimes even outside the expected wait time. And shipping something as big as a doll is a timely endeavor. I shouldn't have to say that.

My point is simply to stop complaining on an confession board and either take it to the places previously mentioned. Posting here behind the anonymous mask makes you sound like a petulant child who didn't get their way right away.

~Anonymous

7.My only issue with BJD Divaz is how I never get any updates. Every email, they tell me to join their facebook page for status updates. I dont have a FB and I dont want to create one. I bought my doll through their website, updates should be posted on their website, or they could send me an email. That isnt asking much.

~Anonymous

8. Since there seems to be a lot of either "completely negative everything sucks" or "everything was sunshine and rainbows" confessions about bjd!vaz I thought I'd chime in with a neutral review.

PROS

-They were always polite and professional in their emails, and gave me very detailed answers to my questions.

-I got exactly what I ordered, so no mix ups or missing parts or anything like that.

-I think them being forthcoming about personal issues (only one person on staff, illness, the flooding isue etc.) on social media is good, since it keeps customers updated as to why there might be delays.

-If you live in the US their shipping is very reasonable.

CONS

-Reply times were varied. Sometimes it could take over a week, sometimes a couple hours.

-My order took about 10mo which, when comparing to other people who ordered through the same company around the same time, was about 3x as long as if I bought it direct and 2x as long if I had gone through a different dealer. I get some of the waiting time is out of their control, but it was kind of ridiculous.

-They dont necessarily ship the same day they send you a tracking number. I wish they said something like, "Here's your tracking number, our pickup is Xday so it should start moving after that" just so I could be aware.

All in all no major complaints. I got my doll and all that. Their lone employee is clearly overwhelmed. I hope they hire another person, if only to give the one a break.

Truthfully, I most likely won't buy through them again. I'd rather pay the international shipping and go direct, than deal with the extensive wait time. I'd still recommend them to someone looking for a very long layaway, though. I paid in full, but if I had a 12mo layaway I would've never known they weren't ready to ship my doll until month 10.

~Anonymous

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #TrueBJDConfessions #BJD Dealers

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uchihasakurawrites · 4 years ago

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A Lesson in Practicality (1)

Rating: T for language & depictions of violence

Summary: It takes a near-death experience in Yukigakure for Sakura to realize that Sasuke has her back in more ways than one.

Word Count: 3,154

A/N: This idea was going to be a short drabble, but the storyline ended up going in a direction that I didn’t initially plan for. There will be a Part Two (of 2). Part One has more implied SasuSaku - Sasuke will play a much more significant role in the next part! There’s a very high chance that this is going to be a prequel for the longer SasuSaku fic I’m currently working on.

Let me know what you think, please!! Thank you to everyone who has left feedback on my work thus far~

Cross-posted on AO3 and Fanfiction

______________________________________________

Sakura had heard enough stories from her fellow kunoichi about birthday gifts from their boyfriends to know that Sasuke’s definition of a gift was unique, to say the least.

Sai’s most recent gift to Ino was simple - a modest bouquet of flowers, carefully cultivated to convey a special message, a basket of cherry tomatoes from his personal garden, and a painting of the two of them on what Ino later told Sakura was their engagement day. Naruto once took Hinata on a two-week getaway to the hot spring resorts of Yugakure for her first birthday after they became official (though Hinata later let it slip that Naruto hadn’t informed Hiashi of their vacation and was subsequently banned from the Hyuuga compound for the foreseeable future). Chouji hosted a surprise birthday party for Karui just a few months after she migrated to Konoha, complete with her closest friends from Kumogakure and a home-cooked buffet. Even Shikamaru had stepped up his game with a private couple’s cooking class at Amaguriama, knowing that Temari would punt him to Suna if he showed up with just the personalized shogi piece he had originally planned on giving to her.

Temari had still barely let him escape, fully aware that Shikamaru had organized the class in hopes of never having to go out of his way to buy her favorite sweets again if she could just make them herself. Watching him burn three batches of roasted chestnuts was enough of a gift in itself.

Sasuke hadn’t been in the village for any of Sakura’s birthdays since before his defection back in their genin days. Even then, she couldn’t remember him going out of his way to give her a gift beyond grumbling out a low “Happy Birthday” if team training happened to coincide with her birthday.

To say that Sakura was shocked when she awoke to the tap tap tap of a messenger bird at her window before dawn on her nineteenth birthday was an understatement. Her grumbles at being awakened at such an hour on a day Ino had explicitly banned Sakura from working stopped the second she recognized the bird as Sasuke’s hawk. After fumbling with the latch on her window for a moment - she swore that the hawk gave her some serious side-eye when it took her three tries to get the latch to unstick - she held out her wrist for the bird. It left in the next breath, right after Sakura untied the scroll it was carrying. Sakura frowned at the hawk’s manners as she hadn’t even gotten to send a reply but realized she shouldn’t expect much. Of course Sasuke’s summons would take on his taciturn attitude.

The note tied to the scroll was simple: A last resort.

Huffing a laugh at the note, which was so very Sasuke, Sakura made quick work of the scroll’s seal. She immediately recognized the script as a summoning scroll, though she couldn’t parse out exactly what the summons was. Most likely one of Sasuke’s if he had sent it to her - a hawk or a snake. She sincerely hoped for the former.

Her first Chunin exams had effectively wrecked snakes for her.

Sakura resealed the scroll with a small smile. She had learned what she was getting into quite quickly when she first realized her love for Sasuke ran deeper than a surface-level crush. Any relationship she had with him wouldn’t be normal, be it romantic or platonic. Sasuke’s definition of a relationship was understandably different than most others; she had to learn how to read into the small gestures and unspoken words he left between them - the forehead pokes, the thank you’s, and the occasional mumbled annoying. There would be no typical gifts, no grand romantic gestures, and she was okay with that.

She had hardly expected a congratulatory note for her birthday, let alone a physical gift. Sure, a summoning scroll might not be the most conventional gift, but Sakura figured the practicality of it summed up Sasuke’s approach to relationships perfectly: securing the safety of those closest to him. This particular gesture meant she was at least somewhere on his (very short) list of valuable people in his life.

So when she tucked the scroll away, she did so with a smile, knowing that the added weight next to her medical supplies was a comfort that Sasuke had her back no matter where he was.

* * * * *

Sakura discovered that sentiment was far more literal than she had initially thought as she fled the scene of an assassination mission gone wrong in Yukigakure. Eliminating the target - a noble displaced by the war who sought to sow seeds of discontent against the ruling family - was fairly straightforward. A quick henge, a few unconscious guards, and a convenient chakra-induced heart attack left no trace to Konoha or the royal family.

The bounty hunters on her tail were decidedly less straightforward.

Since the end of the war, Sakura’s field mission count had dropped drastically. With Tsunade out of the village, rebuilding and strengthening Konoha’s medical system fell squarely on her shoulders. Ino’s support with the Children’s Mental Health Clinic left some room in her schedule for diplomatic medical missions to neighboring villages as a show of goodwill after the Allied Shinobi Forces dissolved, but she was rarely included in combat units. Kakashi had only assigned her to this solo mission as a favor to Koyuki since she was already familiar with Sakura from her genin days. Relations between Konoha and Iwagakure had been steady enough after the war, but Kakashi couldn’t risk instability in a country so close to Iwa.

While Sakura had kept up with her combat skills as well as she could through spars and periodic demonstrations at the Academy, she could feel the rust in her reaction times as she adjusted her own fighting style to the unfamiliar terrain. Snow meant additional chakra expenditure to maintain body temperature and keep her feet planted firmly on the ground; it took her the first few moments of the pursuit just to adjust her fighting style so that she wouldn’t go skidding across ice when she followed through on her punches.

It was the split second of hesitation between her noticing the first hunter rapidly approaching from behind and actually lunging to the left to avoid his attack that cost her a kunai to the thigh. The wound was deep, but Sakura was less concerned about the fact that she could clearly see the muscle fibers in her leg and more concerned about neutralizing the unknown poison that was trying to spread from it. Sewing the skin together enough to stop the bleeding was second nature; it was maintaining a chakra net around the wound to contain the poison that required a bit more focus.

Based on both their speed and specialized jutsu, Sakura guessed the hunters were at least jounin-level. Ten to twelve total based on a quick extension of her sensory jutsu. Had this been a different situation, Sakura would have been flattered that someone thought she was dangerous enough to send so many high-level shinobi to ambush her. She made a quick mental note to thank Karin for training her in a variant of the Kagura Shingan jutsu.

Running forever wasn’t an option, especially at the pace she was being forced to keep. She needed to start picking these guys off - she figured she had faced far worse odds and won.

Sakura slid to a stop and waited precisely six seconds for about half of the hunters to catch up before she drove her fist into the ground. Unsteady ground and low visibility from the snow she had loosened caught the two closest hunters off guard, and she pressed her advantage to neatly slice their jugulars open with chakra scalpels. She took note of their appearance, standard shinobi gear in shades of white and grey and curiously blank hitai-ates linked around both of their necks, and paused just long enough to snatch one of the headbands for later inspection. She tucked it into her medical pouch before rounding to face the next wave of hunters.

Most of the remaining nin were smart enough to keep their distance; they must have done enough research on her to know that engaging her in close-combat was the fastest way to lose. The nin fell into a loose semicircle formation around her, half close enough for mid-range attacks and half further back. If they were Iwa or Yuki missing nin, she could expect mostly Water and Earth-style jutsu - the same affinities she had, but probably much more practiced.

Keeping a firm hold on her Kagura Shingan to track her opponents, Sakura quickly formed the seals for Suiton: Kiri Shikaku she had picked up during a brief stay in Kiri and saw an immediate improvement in her vision. She caught four hunters in her visual range and charged forward, hoping to close the distance between them fast enough for her to get a clean hit. All four flew through the same familiar sequence of hand signs she had seen from Iwa nin during the war, and a solid rock wall about ten feet high erupted in her path.

Not deterred in the slightest by the barrier, Sakura augmented her speed with chakra and drove a fist into the wall. The rock gave more resistance to her wrist than normal, so she quickly adjusted the chakra concentration in her knuckles to absorb the additional force. The hunters, she guessed, had infused their chakra into the wall in hopes that the reinforcement would injure her wrist or at least slow her down.

Sakura smirked as her fist drove clean through the wall and followed her punch up with a roundhouse to shatter it. Their chakra control was good if they could spread it so finely across the surface of the wall - but hers was better.

She darted towards the closest target and delivered a punch to his gut that snapped his spine clean in half. His partner appeared at her side in the next breath, driving his katana towards her neck and forcing her to drop to her knees to dodge. Sakura swept her leg underneath the nin’s feet, ignoring the stinging sensation of the snow on her skin as she followed the nin’s dodge up with a well-aimed kunai. The weapon landed squarely in the back of his dominant hand and forced him to change grips on his katana.

A small part of Sakura’s mind was immediately suspicious when the two other nin closest to them chose to charge her head-on instead of retreating. Perhaps she had given them too much credit if they were reckless enough to rush into a taijutsu battle with her just because she had taken a few of them out.

It made more sense when chains of water shot out from the ground to bind her ankles and wrists firmly to the ground - the work of the long-range nins’ combined Suiton: Suikusari no Jutsu. They must have been watching for an opening to slow her down long enough for the mid-range hunters to close in on her and deliver a killing blow.

The chains were sturdier than any suiton she had faced in the past, no doubt due to the number of hunters who were focused on restraining her. Sakura channeled a burst of pure chakra to the surface of the skin on her wrists, ankles, and torso; anywhere the chains touched, she honed in on. She could either drive her chakra into the chains, slow down the water molecules in them so that they turned to ice, and shatter them, or push her chakra directly outwards to free herself long enough to move away from the chains.

The first option would have been a more permanent solution, but the breath of a hunter nin on her neck forced Sakura into the second. With a shannaro! Sakura willfully tore her body out of the chains, redirected the chakra to her feet, and used the closest nin’s chest as a platform to fling herself over the chains and out of reach. She shoved one foot into the woman’s chest and used the other to bat a kunai with an explosive tag away from them both.

What Sakura didn’t account for was the nin she had planted her foot on reacting quickly enough to snag her ankle and drag her to the ground with her. She used the momentum of her fall to slide further away from the chains and twisted her ankle to free herself. Ice-covered rocks sliced at her forearms and stomach, but she drove her fingers into the ground to lever herself forward.

Crippling pain radiated from her ankle as soon as she was free, drawing a hoarse cry from her throat. She hadn’t seen a weapon in the nin’s hand, and there was no open wound. A second wave of searing pain nearly brought Sakura to her knees yet again, and she reached out for her medical chakra to send to inspect the area as she narrowly vaulted over a windmill shuriken -

Only to find that summoning her chakra felt like pulling a viscous liquid through a fine sieve. The chakra that had been isolating the poison around her wounds only stayed in place from sheer force of will. She spared a quick glance at her ankle, eyes widening at the black seal branded onto her skin.

Fuinjutsu.

Sakura didn’t recognize the seal and didn’t have time to inspect it further. Water chains exploded from the ground beneath her just as four hunters lunged at her from each direction. She jumped into the air, twisting to narrowly avoid a series of kunai. A loose shuriken lodged into her calf. Sakura immediately recognized the signs of poison digging into her system; she also recognized with a growing trepidation that it took far more of her concentration than she could spare to dredge up the medical chakra necessary to isolate it.

Whatever seal the hunters had placed on her was blocking her chakra flow, but not in a way she had experienced before. Training with Shizune’s poisons and Hinata’s tenketsu blocks hadn’t prepared her for this. Her chakra wasn’t completely inaccessible, but it was as though a fine mesh had settled over each of her chakra points. It was as though the hunters hoped she would continue trying to mold her chakra, exhausting herself enough in the process that they could take her out.

Her dread grew when she reached out for her Byakugo only to feel the same fine mesh blocking her access. She could still feel the mass of chakra settled behind her forehead, but she doubted she could summon enough of it fast enough to make a significant difference in this fight.

Sakura had a sinking feeling that this seal, which she hadn’t even come across in the Uzumaki fuinjutsu scrolls Naruto had lent to her, was designed specifically to hinder ninja with her level of chakra control and reserves. It didn’t matter how much control she had if it took her six times as long to drag her chakra to a specific point. Keeping the poison in her system at bay occupied enough of her attention at the moment. Evading the seemingly endless water chains that followed her and the four nins on her tail only added to her exhaustion.

One of the hunters managed to land a kick squarely on her side, cracking at least two ribs. Sakura took another blow to her back, and she twisted to catch the nin’s ankle. She snapped it cleanly in two, baring her teeth as she drove a kunai into the kunoichi’s neck before she could finish the seals for an Earth-style jutsu.

She managed to keep with this rhythm long enough to incapacitate another two nin but knew that she was reaching her limit. She took a half dozen more hits from the closest hunters and a particularly nasty cut from a katana before she pulled back, focused on her seal, and pushed. Black lines twisted down her face and startled the hunters long enough for her to shunt what chakra she could get ahold of to the soles of her boots. The force of the chakra from her seal was enough to push what little she needed through.

Sakura took off at a sprint, running as far and as fast as she could in the opposite direction of the hunters who immediately followed suit. Knowing her options were limited, Sakura scrambled behind the first large boulder she could find and snapped the highest level genjutsu she could manage over the surrounding area. Her jaw clenched to choke off a scream at the fire that lanced through her chakra network as she forced her chakra into the jutsu.

Her chakra control, it seemed, was not better than whichever nin had developed this seal.

She quickly surveyed her condition - several lacerations, at least two cracked ribs, and more poison in her system than she could afford to isolate at once - and realized that the seal on her ankle was not only making it more difficult to mold chakra but also draining it. Sakura immediately withdrew her own chakra, slamming her Yin seal down before the hunter’s seal could touch her reserves. Without her Byakugo, Sakura figured she barely had enough chakra to maintain her genjutsu and keep the poison around her major wounds locked in place. Healing herself would do nothing but leave her drained and vulnerable when the hunter nins eventually found her.

Her genjutsu skills had improved drastically under Kurenai’s tutelage, but the hunter nins would eventually figure out what she had done and double back to find her. They knew as well as she did that she wasn’t in a condition to flee very far.

Without hesitation, Sakura withdrew the summoning scroll Sasuke had given her from a pouch at her hip and snapped it open. She didn’t have enough chakra to summon enough of Katsuyu to be useful, and Sakura would be long dead before reinforcements came even if she did ask Katsuyu to send a message to Konoha.

As much as she hated snakes, Sakura desperately hoped for Aoda as she drew a bloodied thumb across the parchment (though the rational part of her brain noted she probably didn’t have the chakra to handle that level of summons either). She blanched at the strain the summons put on her chakra network and wondered belatedly if she had overestimated how much of what little chakra she had left she could actually direct towards the summons. Slamming her eyes shut with a choked cry, Sakura visualized grabbing onto the thin trails of chakra that creaked through her veins and pulled.

If she’d had the energy for it, Sakura is certain she would have screamed when it was neither a hawk nor a snake that appeared before her - but rather, Sasuke Uchiha himself.

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #part 1 #a lesson in practicality #sasusaku blank period #sasusaku fanfic #naruto fanfiction

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 3 of 3)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Dinner is about as awkward as waving back at someone you think's waving at you, only to then realize they're actually waving at someone else.

Frisk stares at your guest from beginning to end, only looking back to their bowl when they’re done with it. They grab a piece of bread and soak up what little soup remains at the bottom and say, “You’re not a bad cook", after. They take a bite off the bread; the rest of it disappears in three more. “Is this ren's way of testing whether you'll be a good boyfriend or not?”

Sans swallows hard and coughs once to recover as he sets his spoon down. “Well, uh… Somethin’ like that, I guess.” He casts a subtle glance at you, his gaze asking for help.

“We’re not dating,” you intervene. You take some soup, but end up throwing it back in the bowl when your hand shakes, too tense to continue eating. “You and Jerry just so happened to walk in at the wrong moment, making it look like something else.”

Frisk frowns, and a dull expression reaches their eyes. “I can tell you’re lying, ren. You’re bad at it.” Their gaze moves back towards Sans, who’s now finished with his bowl and trying to move away from the conversation. “What about you, then? Why’re you chickening out if you still wanna date (Y/N)?” They furrow their eyebrows and glare at the monster. “Why are you-“

“That’s enough, honey.” You stand up and face down at them. “This isn’t his fau-“

“So then, it’s yours?” Their voice breaks as they're the one to rise next; their hands thump over the table and their frown quivers as they attempt not to show any weakness. “He… He flirted with you, so that means he’s also responsible for it!”

“I said that’s enough, Frisk (L/N),” you snap, crossing your arms. “I’m okay with talking about this with you, but not during dinner. And even less when we have a guest over.” You plan to pick up the dishes, though the skeleton beats you to it, excusing himself off to the kitchen. “I’m not dating him, and that's final. That only happened ‘cause we kind of like each other. But I refuse to date anyone until you’re all grown up.”

“You’ll be old by then,” they whine, flailing their arms. “Grandparents can’t date!”

“Yes, they can.” You go along with the ridiculousness of the conversation, too caught up in it to fully assess their words. “And ten more years won’t make me a grandparent! I’m still young.”

Frisk huffs and switches for sign language, saying, “That still doesn’t mean you have to live like this.” They grimace, eyes wetting as they sniffle once. “I like seeing you happy… But right now, this just makes me feel like I'm bothering you.”

Your anger falls with that last sentence; panic replaces it.

In a haste, you try approaching their side, though they run off to their room just as you’re ready to bring them in for a hug. Their steps are quick and the door shuts with a subtle bang, their composure still showing through. You stay in place as their words replay on your mind over and over, gloom arriving. Dismissing them is an impossible feat; your mind continues to subject your thoughts into negativity, restraining you from acting quickly.

If you’d been doing a poor job at raising them this whole time, then what had been the point of it all?

Needing a distraction, you head to the kitchen and join Sans by the sink, no words spoken between you.

He washes the dishes while you dry and store them away, keeping up a rhythmic pace until only the pot’s left. Your gaze focuses on his arms, jacket’s sleeves lifted all the way up to his elbows, revealing the oddity of who you were growing attracted to. His shirt's a bit loose by the neck, presenting you with his collarbones as you spare a peek under it. You're still adapting to the strangeness of having someone look so similar to a human skeleton, yet so different all the same. He could breathe, laugh, move, talk... and even kiss based on first-hand experience. His skull wasn't entirely solid, allowing him to blink, eat, and drink -- besides from what you were thinking of whenever you stared at his face and down at his teeth. You tell yourself it’s wrong to be befriending him, and even worse finding any attraction in him. You’re not sure how to interpret his words from earlier ago, and just what it meant to see him break down like he had.

He’d revealed he disliked who he used to be, but did he remember having said it?

From your experience, moments like those were hard to keep clear.

“Do you… remember what you said to me, Sans?”

His hands stop what they’re doing, one grabbing the knob -- ready to open the faucet -- and the other holding the pot, now coated in suds. He looks up at you, saying, “I cried, didn’t I? Don’t really remember word-for-word, but I know I meant what I said.”

You take a breather before responding with, “Even the part about hating who you used to be?”

Sans turns the knob, letting water pour down. “Yeah.” He nods, heaving out a sigh. “The more I look back and reflect on who I used to be, the more I understand why you don’t trust me.” The pot’s close to overflowing, though he doesn’t notice. You step in and place your hand over his, closing the faucet. Unaddressed tension remains as you stare down at his hand, yet you refuse to let it show, repelled by the idea of taking advantage of his vulnerability. You don’t want to engage in anything like your stay at the hotel again until you sorted out your mind and its jumble of thoughts, nor do you wish to romanticize his self-hatred by fulfilling your wants. “...I, uh, I get it now. And I promise I’ll stop flirtin' now that I know it.”

The monster pulls his hand away and takes the pot with both, emptying the soapy water down the drain. He does it little by little, preventing a flood in the sink. “Did Jerry say something about this?” you ask, taking the pot when he gives it to you. You hang the current towel and take a dryer, cleaner one from the rack. Then, you continue, finishing with the job. “He looked at you weird.”

He chuckles and meets with your eyes. “Maybe ‘cause I was all over you for a second there?”

You glare at him, lips doing the opposite by tugging into a grin, one you try to fight back. “Cut the sarcasm.” You jab his waist, smile growing. “You know what I mean."

“Let him think what he wants to think. I knew you before I knew him, and you guys haven’t been together for years. You’re your own person, and so’s him. If he doesn’t want to keep being friends, then that’s fine with me.”

You glance over to the time on the wall clock, seeing it’s already seven. With the frequent rain, the monster was forced to store his motorcycle away while it cleared out some more, and -- to make up for it -- his brother was now the one to either lend him his car, or take him where he needed to be. In short, letting him go back home would mean calling Papyrus two hours right before his sleep schedule. Either that, or it was sending Sans all alone off to the nearest bus stop.

You settle on neither, saying, "Want to stay over? It's late, and I've got a guest bedroom you can use."

He snickers and replies with, "Worried 'bout me?" When he notices, his grin falls, and he quickly makes up for it by adding, "Sorry. Doing that's pretty much a reflex now."

You smile and swat his shoulder, keeping your hand there. "...I don't really mind you flirting that way. I like it better than when you're straight-up obvious about it."

"Like the Mx. Serif thing?"

"Exactly." You shift on your feet, remembering one of his older comments. "That, and the ones you used to make about my... appearance."

"So you want me to be less invasive," he says, nodding. "Got it." He tries not to look down, a slight tense present in his grin. "I apologize if I ever made ya uncomfortable. I'm surprised you didn't just whack me over the head back then. Feels like I deserved it sometimes."

"Violence is not the answer." You pause, face regaining seriousness. "...Unless you cross borders you shouldn't be crossing."

"Kinda like what happened on the couch today?"

"No." You feel your throat ache the longer you talk with him, still too awkward to relax around him. "...I wanted it back then."

Sans washes his hands and gives you space to do the same. Then, he brings his sleeves down and waits until you're done washing up to accompany you to the living room. "Touch-starved?" he jokes, though you're far from taking it that way.

Seven years.

Not that you were completely, utterly desperate for a relationship, but good company was still good company. You could still use the warmth of someone else, even if it was purely platonic or familiar -- like a tight hug, or just someone else to have around the house. Wanting to depend less on Jerry's support and more on your own funds, you proposed to yourself working extra hours for as long as it was necessary. The rest of your day was either used up in chores or in spending more time with Frisk. It's only now that the monsters help you out with your child and their growth that you have additional time to do stuff like this.

"...Yes," you reply, looking away. "But that can wait."

You excuse yourself and head over to the fridge, needing some water to cure the sudden soreness to your throat; that, and you didn't really want to keep tangling yourself up in that mess.

When you've just about drank more than half a gallon, you stop and take in a deep breath, bringing yourself back to calm.

Regardless of what Frisk and Sans himself had said about living for yourself every so often, you had your set of goals already planned out. Speed-running through a relationship wasn't one, and even less considering the subject's past. You needed to know him and his intentions better before throwing yourself into it -- more than usual.

Two years of pointless arguments between you and Jerry had been enough to last you a lifetime; one of them was even more than pointless, considering you divorced by your first year. You never understood the point of submitting a child to the sight of continuous arguments if you could just find a way to stop becoming involved in what was causing that. You didn't want Frisk to feel like the root of all your problems, nor did you wish to make them feel as if they had to redeem themselves for something that wasn't even their fault to begin with. It was difficult to comprehend the thought-process behind calling out how many finances were spent on them, unless they were being a spoiled brat about it. Guilting them over the good things they had and belittling their troubles through constant comparison wasn't what you wanted, either.

But did it all have to be done by you limiting your own life and enjoyments?

Sans's advice and Frisk's words get to you, these you try to brush off for the moment being.

Fixing your situation with the monsters was more important than that.

"Ren?" a familiar voice calls out, stopping your speeding train of thought. "Is Sans staying over tonight?"

Your body freezes up, face doing the opposite.

Out of all the people you could’ve chosen to be attracted to, it had to be a person whose existence you were barely aware of until a few months ago, who you would've sworn was a contradiction to science as you knew it, and whose flirting techniques were about as low quality as a school lunch's ‘pizza’ Friday. “Yes,” you say, drinking another glass. You’ve already drank more than enough, but stress makes you want more. “It would be rude to send him home with how late it is.”

“You just want him to stay longer, don’t you?”

“That’s none of your concern, dear.”

You serve them a glass of milk, kiss their cheek, and shoo them off to bed, slumping against the fridge when they’re gone. The sound of the television being turned on follows when their footsteps grow faint, and you can hear them exchange a few words with the skeleton, though none of these you can get to understand clearly, standing so far away. “That’s their favourite movie!” is the only sentence you can decipher from them, words exclaimed. “Have fun!” They run off, footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Finally left with Sans again, you return to the living room to see him resting on the same side you’d been pinned to on the couch. You try not to remember, yet your mind proves to be cruel as it reminds you over the subtle warmth of his hands, the scent of your soap on him, and him being so close to take initiative by being the one to almost kiss you on the lips. You’d been the one to do that the first time you kissed him on the cheek back at Mettaton's hotel, though you tell yourself it was nothing special. It was mostly the heat of the moment that had caused you both to take it easy, after all. Today was an entirely different story. Compared to your approach, his was a much more complex and slow building one, waiting for you to better process his intentions and reciprocate his actions with far more sincerity compared to your stay at the hotel.

In short, you wanted to kiss him, but for real this time.

“You doin' okay?” Sans asks, seeing you arrive; he scoots further away, a simple gesture for you to sit down and join him.

“I’m... I'm okay,” you reply, nodding. “But are you really gonna watch that?” You point with your eyes at the television, your favourite movie still playing. “It’s a little lame.”

“Don’t lie.” He grins and hangs an arm behind the couch again when you settle next to him. “I’m pretty sure the kid said it’s your favourite.”

“Out of that particular genre, yes.” You stare at the screen, displaying a scene not too fitting for your situation, yet not completely out of touch either. It gives space for you to talk with him, no awkward romance scenes happening at the moment, and no loud, action-packed scenarios occurring either. Without a word, you move closer to him, letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as he brings you nearer, face resting against his chest. “Have you watched it before?”

“Today’s my first,” he says, hand lowering to your waist. He does nothing else, giving space for you to cozy up next to him the way you best deemed fit. “Feelin’ better now? You can stay for s’long as ya need.”

Aware the monster's referencing your no short of embarrassing confession from before, you shift to a straighter position, meet his irises, and glare up at him. Rather than throwing a remark back at the skeleton, you figure it’s now best to kill him with kindness. You take his cheekbone, smile, and stroke his face, smiling to better accomplish your payback.

When he looks at you -- far too earnest and warm for your liking -- you flinch and have a sudden, unconscious change of plans.

“You’re enough, you know that?” you comment, words practically slipping from your mouth. “Maybe I don’t fully understand what happened at the Underground, but... But I'd say you’ve shown you care enough to improve things you don’t like about yourself. And you've also been pretty blunt and honest with me so far, so there’s that, too.” You kiss his cheekbone, ending on a note far more wholehearted than you originally intended your payback to be. “Try to remember that next time you start criticizing yourself like that again.”

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

Hello!

Before getting into some important stuff, this was meant to be yesterday's update, but I didn't have my laptop available at the time, hence the delay! I was able to update on other sites, but here I use the "keep reading" feature, which can only be accessed through a computer. (As far as my knowledge of that goes, of course -- I'm still learning how to use Tumblr!)

Now, moving to the important stuff:

A few changes will be going underway soon, such as adding the chapter navigation at the bottom of each update from the Prologue to Chapter Ten. As I mentioned in a previous author note about how late I realized I was missing something necessary for clicking on the next chapter more easily: I'm a dumbass, lol.

Also, I've made the decision of creating separate fanfics for the 4 other characters tagged in this story, along with a poll to decide which one I should work with first (as it was shown at the end of Chapter Fifteen, we've finally reached the exposition part of this fanfic, meaning other relationships will be introduced soon)! The reason why is not only to avoid coming off as misleading for those who're looking for a fanfic of that specific character only, but because rewriting this story led to it becoming much more slow burning, thus delaying the relationship development with plenty of characters. As a result, I'll modify the tags to all 16 chapters that've been published so far!

Hopefully, all those changes will be finished by next Friday. :-)

As always, take care and stay safe!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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zims-left-shoe · 4 years ago

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Hello, I had a really cute idea for a request if you dont mind. Since it's been lockdown and stuff could I get a Zim x S/o where they're finally able to see eachother after isolation. Bonus for fluff if that's ok with you?

This request??? Amazing. Absolute perfection. And of course there’s going to be fluff!! Chaotic and feral Zim is great, but I love me some soft Zim.

Oh, and there’s no specific age here. Could be high school, could be adults, I’ll leave that up to the reader.

Blinking furiously, your eyes eventually settled on a squint as your phone cast painfully bright light into your face. The surrounding comfort of darkness was fended off by the harsh screen you continued to stare at. Nothing had changed in the past hour, nothing new was written. You weren't sure what you were hoping for.

A simple 'FINE' within a chat bubble marked the end of your conversation. Normally, you would snicker to yourself about how he flat out refused to write in lowercase, but the anxiety gnawing at your stomach prevented you from doing so.

Sighing, you rolled onto your side, hanging half off the bed in order to plug your phone in for the night. After that was accomplished, you flopped onto your back, staring into the black abyss that was your bedroom ceiling.

Quarantine had been a lot more difficult than you had originally thought. At first it was fun, you could be as much of an introvert as you wanted and could take care of your responsibilities on your own time and schedule, for the most part anyway. But once the weeks turned into months, and those months began to increase exponentially, it became a problem. Going just a bit stir crazy was bad enough, but the worst part was being unable to see Zim.

Again, at first, you didn't think it would be such a bad thing. He tended to get a bit clingy and possessive, so you thought a little me time would do you some good. But as time stretched onward, you realized that you missed the little roach bastard more than you had anticipated.

Of course you couldn't see him, considering not only the high human-to-human spread, but neither of you were quite sure to the extent Irkens would be affected, if it would be much more dangerous for Zim than an average human. As if that factor wasn't bad enough, Zim was already a huge germaphobe, so he rejected the idea of even socially-distanced hangouts with masks and all that.

So, being responsible and considerate, you had agreed to stick to text communication. It was fine at first, and you both talked regularly. Until about a month ago. Your worries began at the occurrence of two solid weeks of radio silence. Assuming the best, you waved it off as maybe he went to space and therefore couldn't get Earth cell reception. Finally, he had contacted you again, but brushed off any questions regarding the period of being off the grid. However, any response he gave you was short and simple, often a yes or no without elaboration, even to prompts where those answers weren't even valid.

This is where the unease began. Your mind began to run rampant with thoughts on the matter. What if he had gotten tired of you? The reasonable person inside of you told you that if that was indeed the case, then his loss, but that didn't mean you had to be happy about it. Just when you would convince yourself everything was fine, you managed to come back with something else, always a variation of the last negative thought. What if he had realized that he liked being alone, that he missed being a lone wolf soldier focused on destroying the world with no one to care about? You could never fully refute that one. After all, was a genetically modified alien soldier truly content being tied down by something such as a relationship?

The only thing that brought you any solace was that he had reached out to you that morning, requesting your presence at his base. Things had gotten better, allowing for the two of you to meet with contact, person to person. Well, person to Irken. Of course, your brain wouldn't let you enjoy that. It just had to spin some tale that would send you into a spiral of dread. Now, as you laid in your bed, sheets bunched in your fists, you were convinced that he wished to break up with you. Well, at least he had the decency to do so in person, if that even was the case.

You wanted nothing more than to be overjoyed that you would finally be able to see him after all this time. You had become quite attached to Zim, more than you ever would like to admit. You should be filled with excitement. However, you felt nothing but a sinking feeling that made your skin crawl.

"Just...please let me have a good night's sleep, would you?" You pleaded with your mind, shifting onto your side to face your wall, letting your eyes shut tight.

(more under the cut)

Unfortunately, you and your brain have two very different ways of defining 'a good night's sleep'. Trudging into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead, you couldn't hold back the massive yawn. Stretching, about ten different joints popped as you remembered tossing and turning for a majority of the night. The worst part was the two or so hour period of staring blankly at the ceiling, mind racing with ideas of nothing at all.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror revealed you to be looking like hell...and not on wheels. More like hell discarded on the side of the road next to an empty shopping bag. Dark circles rested under your eyes, which weren't only from the previous night. Your sleep schedule had been almost non-existent thanks to quarantine, some nights you wouldn't surrender to slumber until three in the morning, and other days you would succumb to sleep's tantalizing claws at four pm.

Not to mention that you could barely remember the last time you had worn anything but pajamas or sweats. Groaning, you pulled on presentable clothes, as if this was the largest inconvenience you could ever be faced with. Not that Zim would care, but you didn't want to be shown up in the outfit department by a being from beyond who wore the same saturated pink military uniform every day.

You didn't even bother to glance at the time, it wouldn't matter. Either way, Zim would most likely chide you for being late, even if you were an hour early. You weren't sure if the construct of time even existed in the reality that was Zim's mind. Now that you thought about it, you couldn't say for certain if you had even set a specific time arrangement. All you had agreed upon was to be there some time in the morning.

It didn't matter regardless, he would be there whenever you decided to show up. He hadn't left his base once for the duration of quarantine. Zim had patience when it came to being cooped up for long periods of time, you would give him that much. It was about the only time he had patience, but it counted nonetheless.

That negative feeling wouldn't cease tugging at you as you meandered your way to Zim's base, quite literally dragging your feet down the sidewalk. Occasionally, you would come across a stray stone or pinecone, and you'd strike out with a half-hearted kick, watching it skitter across the pavement.

The entire walk was forgettable, and you had made the trek enough times for your brain to transition into autopilot until you made it to the fence line. The first few times you went to his place were unsettling. Now, you were completely unfazed as the security gnomes eyed you when you padded up the sidewalk, approaching the door. Their beady laser eyes tracked your every breath, but by this point you were unbothered. Besides, you were fairly sure that Zim had put you on the white list, so they shouldn't shoot at you unless it was a direct order.

You pressed the doorbell, folding your hands neatly in front of you as you waited for Zim to answer, scrambling to get a heartfelt speech together in your head. Whatever string of words you had managed to stitch together was thrown out the window when the door swung open, revealing a very animated GIR decked out in his doggy disguise. He frantically waved a black 'paw' to you, a grin splitting his face.

"Hi, Sparky!!" He hollered in your face, greeting you with a name that wasn't yours, per usual. Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he began talking again, in very much an outside voice. A chip right off the old Irken block. "Didja bring the pizza?!" The little robot inspected your arms curiously, stepping around you to make sure you weren't hiding the greasy pie behind your back.

"I, uh, wasn't aware I was supposed to be bringing pizza." You knew this was just an instance of GIR being GIR, but you went along with it anyway. He couldn't help himself, it was just the way he was wired. Or, maybe it was the fact that his brains consisted of useless pocket junk. It didn't really matter. GIR moved back to stand obediently in the doorway, you peering around the frame to see if Zim was anywhere to be found. He wasn't, which only made the nerves worse. Despite your worry, you kept your voice even and neutral. "May I come in?"

"Mhm!" He hummed, jumping aside to let you in. You closed the door behind you, standing around awkwardly for a moment before turning back to GIR, who was already shimmying out of his doggy suit.

"Do you know where Zim is?" Something seemed to click with GIR, however, it was not something that would answer your question. The poor robot burst into tears, which also wasn't out of the ordinary, falling face first into the floor and pounding his metal claw on the tile.

"That boy missed you so much!! He so sad, he even cried!! He loves youuu...!" He wailed, loud enough to draw Minimoose into the room who offered a soft and sad 'Nyah', seemingly agreeing with the statement. You couldn't confirm, since only Zim and GIR were fluent in the language you lovingly called 'Moosinese'. Tears continued to stream down the robot's metal face as he screamed, Minimoose resting a comforting purple nub on his back.

"Is that true?" Your response was calm, having dealt with GIR's outbursts many a time. You couldn't attest to the accuracy of his words, considering correct information was almost similar to a Russian roulette wheel when it came to GIR.

And as if nothing had ever happened, the robot immediately perked up, popping up to his feet with a smile, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. "Yep!! Master's been down in the base the whole time!! Just sittin' there all shmoopy-like!" A giggle followed, pushing his previous bout of sadness into the past.

"Nyah!" Minimoose showed you a bucktooth grin as he looked to you purposefully.

"Really? Fascinating." Again, you couldn't speak Moosinese, but still, you nodded. The purple moose appeared to be satisfied with your response, floating off to who knows where.

"You wanna come play with the piggy with me?!" GIR bounced up and down, eager to drag you off to roll around on the floor and have a tea party with whatever pig he had brought home this week.

"Maybe some other time, GIR." You weren't opposed to spending time with the little robot, but he wasn't exactly who you were here to see. He didn't seem offended, all he did was shrug his metal shoulders.

"Okie dokie!" He brought his claw up to his forehead in a salute, turning away from you and making a mad dash to the kitchen. You heard a noisy metallic clang echo from the kitchen, and you didn't need to witness the event to visualize GIR smacking face-first into the cabinet.

"Careful, GIR! My milk squid experiment is in there!" A familiar voice rang out from the kitchen, and two immediate questions sprung to mind. The first was why in the name of anything would you keep milk in the cabinet (even if it related to a squid)? The second being just what in the hell had he been doing all this time?

The whiny complaints had quieted to low grumbles as just the alien you wanted to see paced into the living room, eyes cast downwards, antennae drooping. The words that had been forming in your throat were choked into barely a squeak when you got a closer look at him. Zim still didn't seem to notice you, red bug eyes trained on the tile, hands clasped behind his back. That wasn't the surprising bit. A jacket you thought you had lost some time ago was thrown on over his invader uniform. You couldn't remember if maybe you had left it there or maybe Zim had taken without your knowledge, but either way, he was swimming in it. The sleeves were rolled up to meet his wrists, gloved hands peeking out from the fabric. Most of the jacket itself was well past his thighs, stopping just above the knee. It had been just a bit big on you, so of course it would be massive on him. You felt any unease you were feeling immediately leave at the sight. Clearly, he hadn't been enjoying the separation as much as you thought.

"I was wondering where that coat went." A chuckle slipped past your lips. Finally, Zim seemed to notice you, head snapping in your direction, antennae perking up to attention.

"Eh?" He didn't quite register your phrase, almost as if he had been wearing your coat for so long that he had forgotten it wasn't a part of his usual attire. "Y/n, I don't-" Zim looked down at himself, finally realizing why you were staring at him like that. He wriggled out of the jacket faster than you could gush about how adorable it was, throwing it forcefully behind the couch. "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!!" He shrieked, pointing a clawed finger at you, antennae flattening against his head in curt embarrassment.

"So, you like my stuff, huh?" You asked cheekily, relishing in his refusal to look at you as he unknowingly clutched the hem of his invader uniform, scuffling his boots on the tile. You couldn't help but snicker. It wasn't often Zim would let himself be sheepish, since he normally knew nothing of shame.

"Nonsense!" He waved a hand dismissively, eyes still refusing to meet yours, although without his contacts, it was a bit hard to tell where exactly he was looking if his head wasn't turned. Crossing his arms tight to his chest, he wracked his brain for possible excuses. "I was just, er, working on repairs and didn't want to get my clothes dirty! Yes! I found this filthy piece of clothing and figured it would suffice." You rolled your eyes, knowing full well he would never admit to the true motivations behind his actions.

Lucky for you, someone else chimed in to voice your exact thoughts. "That's a lie." The computer spoke up from nowhere in particular, monotone voice bringing a growl to rise from Zim's throat.

"YOU'RE LYING!! There is no evidence of this!" The Irken jabbed a claw up towards the direction of the many cables and wires strung across the ceiling. This wouldn't be the first time you've witnessed him get into a spat with his computer. They could be quite entertaining to watch, actually.

"Proof." The computer said in a matter-of-fact tone, the gargantuan TV screen buzzing to life, static clearing to reveal a recording of internal base camera feed. The date was in Irken, but you were wise enough to surmise that it was from some time over the quarantine.

The screen displays Zim begrudgingly wandering over to the voot cruiser in the hangar. In the video feed, he looks decently depressed, antennae slack and hanging limp, posture slouched. He climbed into the ship, looking for something. Whatever it was, his search came to an unresolved end as he lifted your jacket from the seat. Apparently, you had left it in there the last time he had taken you for a flight. His eyes darted around to make sure he wasn't being watched, slipping on the coat and hugging his arms to his chest. The sleeves extended well past his hands. He brought them to his face, sniffing them. A delighted smile ghosted his mouth as he rubbed the sleeves against his face.

"Why would you record that?!" His voice cracked at the end, and you were trying your best to hold in a laugh as the TV faded back to static for a split second before opening on another instance.

This time the video depicted GIR and Zim sprawled out on the couch, watching something on the TV. Zim was wrapped in your coat as if it were a blanket, seeming to be content enough with it. GIR had reached out a claw for the article of clothing, wishing to share. Zim hissed, yanking the coat away from his grip, swiping a clawed hand out like a cat. Clearly, he wanted it all to himself.

This time you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. You tried to apologize, especially since the Irken standing next to you looked absolutely horrified. You were sure he felt his dignity had just faded away right along with the video feed.

"Oh, and my personal favorite." The computer added helpfully as yet another recording presented itself on the TV. This one was a bit tougher to make out.

Zim was down in the depths of the base, and much was dark, the only light being cast from a large monitor just off screen. You were able to see Zim, sitting on the floor, sporting your jacket. He stared longingly at the sleeves that covered his hands. After a moment he shoved his face into his arms and knees as tears slipped down his face. You could only make out the tears due to the light being thrown from the monitor, making them glisten like jewels. Separation appeared to be much harder on him than you had thought. Maybe that was why he had been ignoring you, although it seemed counterproductive. It was possible that texting you made him miss you more.

Zim was not amused in the slightest by this particular clip. He stamped his foot on the tile, making frenzied cutting motions with his arms.

"COMPUTER!!!" His voice was high in volume, but a nervous chuckle laced each syllable. "I think that is quite enough!"

The computer groaned, cutting the feed back to static, eventually switching the TV off completely. "I was just trying to be accurate."

"You only seem to care about accuracy when it is of no benefit to Zim!!" You could only imagine what was going through Zim's head in the moment, because from the outside, he was a ball of red hot rage. However, the computer was having none of his antics, going dormant once more.

"Zim? You're up here." You raised a hand above your head to indicate his anger level. "I need you to be down here." You lowered your hand to your abdomen, knowing that was a complete stretch to ask for. Especially since he was so upset he was stringing together curses in Irken. He would only speak in his native tongue around you when he was incredibly furious. His teeth were gritted tightly, foot tapping audibly on the tile.

"That damn computer." His growl was closer to that of a feral animal, and although he was calm enough to speak in English, he still required some de-escalation.

"Relax, we'll just pretend it never happened."

"Good. Forget about those recordings." His eyes were narrowed, but he was relenting his irritation.

"What recordings?" You shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. Zim seemed appeased, and in a split second, all of his anger was gone and replaced by something else entirely. All the fight seemed to leave his body as he looked to you, red eyes softening completely when they caught your own. He seemed relieved to see you, as if being away was one of the hardest things he had been through in years.

Wordlessly, he strode over to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your chest. Soft Zim was a rare occurrence, but these moments were something you absolutely treasured. It almost made the months of isolation worth it.

You returned the action, and the second you put your arms around him, every muscle in his body relaxed. It was a bit strange, really. To have a hardened alien soldier all but melt in your arms. He wrapped his legs around you as well, clinging to you like a koala. It wasn't hard to maintain balance since he really wasn't all that heavy.

"Couch." He mumbled, his chin resting on your shoulder as his arms were draped around your neck, your own arms supporting him under his legs. A chuckle fell from your lips at his behavior. At first it seemed like he had no energy, but in reality, it was closer to him being soothed by your presence. You were about the only living creature, scratch that, the only thing in the entire universe that could ease him like this; even he wasn't sure why you had this effect on him.

"Sure thing." You walked him over to the couch, using one arm to snag your jacket off the floor before sinking down into the cushions. There was a bit of a strange smell emanating from where you sat, most likely due to GIR spilling countless snacks, messes that weren't completely cleaned up. It wasn't super potent, and in that particular moment, it wasn't one of your concerns.

As you sat on the couch, Zim remained cuddled into you. A snicker slipped out as you tossed your coat over him as if it were a blanket. At first you assumed he would protest, proclaiming that he wasn't cold, nor a weak little smeet who needs to be cared for. So when he removed his arms from you, you were bracing yourself for a lecture and/or rant. However, all he did was tuck the jacket around him better, silently snaking his arms back around you afterward.

"You really did miss me, huh?" It was a redundant question, since without even saying, you both were aware of the answer. Still, you wished to hear him say it. It would put you in good spirits.

"Your absence was...not pleasant." His voice was uncharacteristically hushed, muffled by your clothes. His words were chosen delicately, as they always were when he didn't want to admit to something that he knew to be true.

"So you missed me." The smile that was spread on your face shone through your voice.

"If that is what you would like to think." Zim made an attempt at being snarky, but any mockery in his words was half-hearted at best. Breathing a sigh, you let your head fall back against the back of the couch. You knew full well that was the best you could hope to glean from him, even in his current subdued state.

"For the record, I missed you too."

"As you should. Zim is very great." Looking down, you were met with a sight that melted your heart. The coat still wrapped around him, arms still clinging to you as if you would walk out any minute. Zim's eyes were closed as he laid his head in your lap, quiet purrs rising from his throat as your fingers absentmindedly played with his antennae. You almost thought he would fall asleep.

"I know. You're the coolest Irken I know." You may have only known one, but still. Zim was pretty amazing in your book, despite being a self-absorbed idiot at times. A pleasant silence settled over the room for a moment as you continued to twirl his antennae between your fingers.

His eyes still closed, Zim spoke again, mumbling, "Zim's next plan is to eradicate these abhorrent human pandemics." The words slurred together a bit, and although you knew Irkens to not sleep due to lack of biological necessity, whenever he was completely relaxed, he tended to get drowsy.

"Good luck with that. I support your efforts one hundred percent." Despite the first statement harboring a twinge of sarcasm, the second was completely genuine.

"Does Zim detect a hint of ridicule?" His words may have been a challenge, but not a single eye opened even a crack, not a single muscle in his body so much as twitching.

"All I'm saying is I haven't seen much progress on your original plan of eradicating the humans, and it's been how many years?"

"Quiet or I'll steal another one of your inferior human zip-cloth thingies." He may not have technically stolen the first one, but you had to make a mental note to keep track of your jackets and hoodies. Or at the very least, make sure to keep the ones you wore often out of reach. You supposed in the end it didn't really matter. You would know where to find them if they did happen to go missing. And besides, he did look rather cute in them.

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