#so it might end up looking completely different

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe and reader miss each other

warnings: angst aka the one where rafe is in the doghouse. i wanted to try and write a bit of a dual-pov situation of the time after reader ended things, it's a bit experimental for me but i hope it's still enjoyable! this might be a bit melancholic but eh (also i baked two whole pies today let's go baker era i live alone idek what to do with em)

when you were hooking up rafe, every moment without him felt empty. like he completed you. that was partially what made you continue on with him for so long; you were worried that if he wasn't in your life, you'd constantly walk around with this hole in your chest, like a part of you was missing.

but you found that after you ended things, he wasn't the only thing on your mind all the time. sure, you missed him, but what you missed wasn't the sex, or even the almost-romantic part of your relationship, but his friendship. you missed the boy you told all your secrets to, the one who'd been your shoulder to cry on for as long as you could remember. but a part of you wasn't completely sure if that boy even existed anymore.

you knew that the boy who'd passed notes with you all throughout your middle school and high school years wouldn't do what he did to you. or the boy who let you stay at his house whenever your parents argued, and stay up with you trying to comfort you.

when you had been involved with him, you never told anyone; when your friends asked you where you always disappeared off to, you said you were just 'meeting up with a guy' and none of them really cared enough to pry, and only after did it end did you realize how shallow most of your friendships felt. none of them even noticed when you'd shut yourself away, or the fact that you started to distance yourself from everyone.

except for one.

one friday evening, the doorbell rang and you forced yourself to go open the door, only for it to reveal vivian, someone who you'd pretty much known since kindergarten, holding up two bottles of wine. "i'm not gonna leave before you tell me what's wrong with you." she said, and even though you knew she'd probably judge you for everything that went down, you also knew you couldn't hold onto it all.

and so the two of you ended up laying on your bed, drinking straight out of the bottle, with you recounting the whole story to her, without vivian interrupting you even once. and even though it was only one person, it made all the difference in the world.

"jesus, what a dick!" was the only thing he said when you were done, the two of you bursting into laughter.

but as time went by, you slowly started to miss him less and less, and as the marks he had littered all around your body started to fade, so did your longing for him.

sometimes you'd see him when you were out; it was mostly at the country club, or whenever one of your friends had convinced you to come to a party, and to let loose. but whenever you saw him, you never said a word to each other, you never even smiled. but for a brief moment, as you stared at one another across the room, it was as if it was just the two of you, lying on the floor of his living room, surrounded by beer bottles and used plastic cups, remnants of yet another party.

but as soon as one of you looked away, the moment faded away, like you two had never known each other. it was like he was never your first love.

and before you knew it, summer had come to an end, it had been three months since the night you ended things with him, the sky above you turning grey as you sat on the dock in front of your house with your feet in the cold water, when your phone started ringing, and for the first time in three months...

incoming call... rafe

and as you wondered what to do, a raindrop fell over the green circle displayed on your phone, as if telling you what to do, and so you took your phone into your hand, chewing on your bottom lip as you were thinking of whether to accept or decline.

to say that he wasn't good when it came to emotions and feelings would be an understatement when talking about rafe. most of the time the only thing he allowed himself to feel was anger, and so, when you walked out of the bathroom, the only thing he could do was stare at that locket, and even though he wanted to be angry, to start punching the bathroom sink until his hand broke, he couldn't. all he could do was stare at that damn locket, feeling like someone had punched all the air out of his lungs, like there just wasn't any anger left in him.

the day after you ended things with rafe, he broke up with sofia. for the next week the only thing he did was drink just to get the thoughts of you out of his head. for the week after that, all he did was think about you.

you needed your space, but he knew that every sunday you spent the afternoons playing tennis with one of your friends; so every sunday he'd drag his friends there on the premise of playing golf, just to get a glimpse of you; and unlike him, you looked fine, like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. he'd go out to any party he got wind of, just in case you showed up.

and whenever you noticed rafe's presence, when you looked straight at him, it was like the emptiness that had been in his chest since that night was slowly going away, like it was that night when you slept in his arms when he whispered "i love you." into your ear, hoping to god that you wouldn't hear, and now, the only thing he wished was for you to hear it even though he couldn't say it. but whenever you looked away from him, that emptiness came back.

rafe rarely drew anymore, not since he started working with his father, but now he found himself sketching images he had carved into his memory, ones of you sleeping in his bed, his sheets pulled up to cover your chest while your hair covered a good part of your face, ones with that look on your face when your face was flushed from alcohol when you were trying your hardest to find the words you were looking for when you were chattering about something you were passionate about.

and the next three months went in a cycle of drinking or throwing himself into the family business to forget about you, or finally giving in and thinking about you with that locket held in his large hand, and whenever he saw you, the more alright you seemed, and he kept wondering if that'd ever happen to him.

he was sitting in the office that formerly belonged to his father, his jaw clenched as he stared at your contact image, a picture of you petting a stray cat that lived around the island, obsessing over your contact something he'd been doing a lot lately, as if daring himself to call you. but before he could, he'd dropped his phone down onto the desk, rubbing his palms over his face with a deep sigh, telling himself to just focus on his work.

but rafe was drawn out of his thoughts of a familiar ringing, of one telling you that you were calling someone. and when he pulled his hands away from his eyes, they landed on his phone calling a familiar number.

and before he could hang up and pretend it never happened, the call was connected, and a soft voice on the other side simply said,

"rafe?"

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + r. reigns

authors note: so, a lot of this stems from convos with the lovely @fearlesschimera where one tree hill was brought up. and i loved me some nathan and haley. plus, i'm loving everything about this otc era and needed to write something about it now vs having to wait with my other stories cause we ain't there yet lmao

might be a part two. idk if this even makes sense tbh

words: 3.1k

warnings: none, really? some language? kayfabe story.

There are exactly two sides to Roman Reigns.

The good side and the bad side. 

And Nova Reigns has experienced them both with an unfortunate increase in the latter versus the former. 

She can pinpoint exactly when it started, too. 

When things started to get difficult again.

2020. COVID. While the world was an absolute mess, chaos and death occurring globally every day, her husband of over ten years wasn’t much better. He’d decided to stay home, not wanting to risk bringing home anything that could put her pregnancy with their first daughter, Arabella, Bella as they affectionately called her, at risk. 

It was also so he could figure out just what the hell he was doing with his career. Roman was frustrated. Tired of going along with what was always told of him instead of doing it his way. And it’s why when he returned back to work that summer, he came back a completely changed man. Bigger, stronger, meaner.

This was a different Roman Reigns. The likes of which the WWE had never seen.

And it’s been a ride ever since.

Up and downs along the way. 

A lot of ups up until WrestleMania 40 where after 1,316 days as the undisputed universal champion and unable to let go of a betrayal from so many years ago, Roman lost. He lost his title and something so much deeper that night.

His sense of self.

Nova did the best she could in the months he’d been off to keep his spirits lifted, to support him, often encouraging Bella to ask her dad to do stuff with her even when Nova technically could. Asked him to care for their two year old daughter, Camillia, Cami, as she worked from home, something she’s done for almost the entirety of her post college career. 

But most importantly, Nova worked to help Roman repair the relationship with their oldest son, Roman Jr., RJ, as they’ve called him since the day he was born.

To say the relationship is awful would be an exaggeration. No, it’s just…..fragile.

A fragility that Nova has tried so hard over the past couple of years to strengthen to no avail. A large part of the issue being the fact that her twenty year old son is just as stubborn as his father. Twins, she often calls them. Similar heights, build, personalities, etc. 

Great when they want to be. A pain in the ass when they don’t need to be.

A painful situation all around though, especially when she thinks back to how this all started, to how someone like Nova ended up with someone like Roman.

And it’s a simple answer, really.

He was an idiot.

Well, when it came to English, that was.

Once upon a time ago, Roman wasn’t the massive WWE superstar that he is now. He was just Roman Reigns. The typical, popular jock of their high school. A football player with the stereotypical ego to match. And she was just Nova, the geeky underclassmen who always had a secret crush on the boy she never thought in a million years would look her way.

And truth be told, if not for the fact his coach threatened to bench him if he didn’t raise his English grade, he probably never would have. Hell, she’s certain the only reason he knew she existed was because she was the best and smartest kid in class, so of course their teacher would recommend her for a tutor. 

The answer was initially no. Not necessarily because she was opposed, but more because her crush on him was too big to not get distracted. Even though his jerkish tendencies should have done just that. 

But Roman has always been charismatic and persistent, and before she knew it, she’d agreed. And that agreement changed everything because it showed her for the first time the nice side of Roman, the side that secretly loved music and was surprisingly good at math. The side that struggled with feeling like he’d never be good enough or live up to his family’s athletic reputation both in football and wrestling.

It made her realize and see that Roman was just as human as everyone else. 

It made her fall in love with him.

And that was rocky, too. Navigating his constant struggle of wanting to admit his feelings for her while also being embarrassed about her and wanting to hide their relationship. It created a fair set of conflict, and Nova shed her fair share of tears.

Especially as she sat on the floor of her bathroom, plush, purple rug cushioning her bottom but not the blow that was the two lines on the pregnancy test in her hands. But, seven months later, with her mom on one side and Roman on the other, she shed a different set of tears. Different kinds of tears.

Happiness.

Happiness at welcoming her first child into the world, Roman Reigns Jr. 

RJ

Being teen parents, especially at the tender ages of 16 and 18 was most definitely nothing like it was depicted on the reality shows. It was rough, especially as Roman started college, opting to stay local to help her raise their child as she finished her senior year. They fought, they argued, they disagreed, but at the end of the day, they still loved.

And it was that love that carried them through the rocky years of Roman trying to figure out just what he wanted to do with his life as Nova worked a job and raised their son while pursuing her degree in software engineering. She also stayed local to benefit from the help of her family while chasing her dream. It was rough, it was hard, but they did it.

Even with having to be on food stamps and financial assistance at times to take care of their child, Nova struggling to enter the male dominated workforce of tech and Roman not always having consistent income, they did it. 

And they were happy.

They still are. Just….not like it used to be. 

Nova still loves her husband with all of her heart and soul. They’ve been through too much together for her to ever really leave him, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t cross her mind from time to time. Especially over the past four years, watching him almost revert back to that bully from high school as he manipulated and mentally abused his family, his cousins, his lifetime best friends so much so that the Bloodline he worked so hard to create crumbled right before him.

And it’s only deteriorated since he lost the title to Cody Rhodes. Solo had turned on Roman, brutally kicked Jimmy out of the Bloodline and invited in non-family. Week after week, taking shot after shot at her husband, his cousin, his flesh and blood. 

Going so far as to take the sacred ula fala and declare himself the tribal chief. An honor that was bestowed upon Roman by the elders of his family. It finally reached a point where Roman had enough, making his grand return at SummerSlam and preventing his once enforcer from taking the very title Roman still believes is rightfully is. 

He’s made intermittent returns since then, each one proving just why Roman Reigns is being considered one of the greatest of all time, even while still in the middle of his career. His aura is unmatched. The sales don’t lie. The numbers don’t lie. 

The OTC is WWE. 

But, Roman has been a bit on edge since he was unexpectedly jumped by his other cousin, Jacob, Solo’s latest dangerous addition to the Bloodline.

Nova especially knows he was even more pissed because she’d taken the girls to his show that night, at his request.

He hates looking ‘weak’ in front of him, despite the fact that both were too consumed in kids' devices to pay attention. But, she was. And if anything, it was hard for her to see him be attacked like that, all alone. 

No one in his corner.

Jey’s moved to Raw.

Jimmy is still trying to figure out if he even wants to come back.

Solo has lost his damn mind. 

Sami…..no comment.

And Paul is still recovering from his brutal assault by the new Bloodline. 

The island of relevancy has a population of one. And while that one is formidable as all outdoors, he’s still just a man.

Granted, as much as it pains her to see Roman go at this alone, it’s hard for her to feel all the way bad for him. He did this. His actions drove his family away. 

Well, not all of them.

“Game!” Bella’s soft voice pulls Nova from reflecting on memory lane as she redirects her attention to where her son sits on the sofa in Roman’s locker room, Cami on his lap, grabbing his phone.

RJ chuckles, unlocking the iPhone and asking, “what you wanna play?”

Cami gasps and claps her hands. “Cookie!”

“Cookie Kingdom?” RJ asks, clicking around on his phone and handing it to her. “There ya go, lil’ bit.”

Nova’s smile is warm as she reflects on what feels like so long ago. “I remember when you were that little.”

RJ looks up at her, and it never ceases to amaze her how much he looks like his father. Complexion a little deeper, melanin he inherited from her, but outside of that, Roman could never deny paternity. 

He sucks his teeth. “Mama, don’t start that.”

“What?” Nova pouts, leaning back into the sofa, Bella tuned out of the conversation as she watches Bluey on her tablet. It’s always a bit funny to her how uninterested these kids just are when it comes to seeing Roman at work.

At least, not until he’s actually in their line of vision.

“You’ll always be my baby.” Because he will. Twenty and over 6ft tall or not, he’s her baby boy. “And speaking of baby, what’s going on with you and that girl you been dating?”

RJ rolls his eyes and adjusts Cami on his lap. He’s so good with his little sisters. “Nothing.”

Nova smirks knowingly, picking up on the faint hit of redness on his cheeks. “Sure don’t seem like nothing.”

“Mama, she’s just a friend.”

“So ya’ll aren’t sexually active?”

RJ turns up his nose, clearly disgusted. “Ma, how you just gon’ ask me that?”

“Because I’m your mama and not ready to be a grandma, and your daddy would kill you if you were to get a girl pregnant halfway through college.”

It’s not missed upon Nova how the mention of Roman seems to completely dampen his mood. RJ rolls his eyes. “Like he cares at all.”

His comment hurts her. Deeply. “RJ….”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

She ignores that apology, wanting to focus on the initial comment that has her stomach knotting for all the wrong reasons. “Your dad loves you, Junior. You have to know that.”

There’s a slight delay in his answer, and that alone is enough to make Nova know she needs to talk to Roman again tonight about actually talking with his son. A below the surface level conversation. A heart to heart.

“I know that, mama. I do. It’s just….” RJ blows out a breath and shakes his head. “You know how he is.”

She does. Very well. “You can say it. He’s an ass sometimes.” She’s so grateful for the headphones on Bella’s ears and the deep infatuation Cami has with her brother’s phone.

“You said it. Not me.” Mother and son share a laugh, RJ admitting, “I know he means well.”

“He does,” she agrees. “But, that doesn’t mean he can’t do better. I’ll talk to him again.”

RJ immediately looks like he feels bad, which only makes Nova’s chest ache more. “You don’t have to—”

She lifts her finger to silence him. “You’re my son. He’s my husband. I love you both, and it kills me to see ya’ll like this. I’m gonna do what I can.” And that’s a vow. The three of them have been through too much shit over the years for her to just allow the relationship between the two most important men to fall apart. She won’t let that happen. 

She can’t.

And speaking of, the door to Roman’s locker room opens, her husband walking in looking every bit as strong, powerful, and determined as he looked when he interfered yet again with Solo’s match and especially as he closed the door of that cage and challenged Jacob. 

Nova shifts in her seat, the memory bringing up other kinds of feelings which are entirely inappropriate given the presence of her children.

Cami is the first girl to notice him, lifting up her little arms and reaching for him, nearly dropping RJ’s phone in the process if not for his quick reflexes.

He most definitely got that from Roman as well, because Nova has not an athletic bone in her body.

Roman walks over and takes her from RJ, kissing her cheek, gaze almost reluctantly falling on RJ. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Nova starts to scold Roman for such a cold introduction to their son they haven’t seen since he left for his sophomore year of college over a month ago. “Mom asked me to.”

She’s good at reading between the lines, picking up on the fact that he’s essentially saying he’s only here because of Nova.

Not Roman.

Roman notices this, she’s sure. He’s a perceptive bastard. But, he says nothing. “How’s school?”

“Fine.” 

“RJ.” And her son can be a petty bastard. Like father, like son. She directs her statement to Roman, “I was thinking we could go to his game tomorrow—”

RJ, however, is quick to dismiss this. “You don’t have to.”

Nova’s gaze on Roman allows her to see the hurt that flashes in his eyes at the rejection. But as has been the case lately, he pushes it aside, replacing it with indifference. “You heard what he said. He doesn’t want us there, so we wo—”

“That’s not what I said.” RJ leans back against the chair and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head, clearly frustrated. “You always do this. Always hear what you want to hear.” He scoffs, head turned, muttering, “I see why everybody left you.”

Nova gasps. “RJ!” She sees it, the hurt that’s just tripled and is about to be expressed in anger, leading to another big blowout between the two of them. Thankfully, this is the moment Bella finally becomes aware of Roman’s presence.

“Daddy!” She pulls off her headphones, climbs off the sofa and runs over to him, hugging his legs. 

Roman doesn’t hesitate to pick her up, both daughters in his arms as Nova leans over, running her hand through her fresh silk press. This. This is what she wanted to avoid. These are the kinds of situations that leave her in tears as she vents to her therapist about her ever growing stress levels, how torn she feels in what to do in moments like this. 

Roman is her husband, but RJ is her son. Neither is fully right, but neither is fully wrong either. How does one handle that?

Thankfully, it’s not long after that Roman is being called to prepare to get back out in the ring. This means a probably needed separation from the two titans in her life. Nova holds Cami this time, while Bella hangs onto RJ as they’re escorted ringside. 

It takes a bit of persuasion to get RJ to agree to come with her. She can see he’s ready to just leave.

But, reminding him of how big a help he is with the girls seems to win him over because while he’s certainly not in the best of places with his dad, RJ is a mama’s boy through and through. He loves him some Nova and would do anything to help her. 

Even if it means helping her with the two siblings that came as a complete shock to him.

It still makes Nova laugh a little as she recalls the horrified and almost disgusted expression on his face as she and Roman broke the pregnancy news to him.

“I didn’t even know ya’ll still did that.” And if his statement wasn’t bad enough, he just had to add insult to injury as the blunt almost 16 year-old he was at the time. “Ain’t ya’ll kinda old to still be freaking?”

No. 

Never that.

“Daddy!” This time it’s Cami who’s calling out to Roman, recognizing his new music before he even emerges from the back looking as badass as he always does. Nova is temporarily in a state of awe, overhearing Bella asking RJ to hold her so she can see better. 

Roman has come so far, done so well for himself, even with things with his family being a hot ass mess, there’s still no denying he is it. That he has it. It’s undeniable. She almost feels bad for Cody.

He’ll always be stuck in Roman’s shadow. 

The thought makes her suddenly curious about what could be one of the reasons behind the strife between her firstborn and husband. Nova tucks this in the back of her mind, planning to discuss it further in therapy.

As Roman moves into the ring, Nova stands on the sidelines, holding her baby girl on her hip, smiling back and forth between the two. She watches Roman move around the ring on their commercial break

And when his gaze falls on the set of them, her heart swells as he mouths ‘I love you’ before seamlessly transitioning back into that hardened, determined expression.

And this is why there’s two sides to Roman Reigns. The good side being the one that she sees in that brief, vulnerable exchange. The one that used to kiss her pregnant stomach as he confided in her his fears about not being a good dad, about feeling not ready, about worrying about failing in life. 

Failing her. 

Failing himself.

Failing their child.

The man who worked so hard and gave everything his all to prove he was someone, becoming that someone, yet somehow losing something in the process.

Nova knows it’s still in there though, knows that he is still the boy he fell in love with many moons ago. She knows that as frustrated as he makes her, as cold he can be, as disconnected he can seem, that love is still there and just as strong. 

And she’ll fight for it. 

For him. 

For their son.

For their family. 

She has to.

[misasimagines]

all your fault / reader x Ren (Tokyo Debunker)

included characters: just ren!

rating: sfw

warnings: tsundere. dreaded there was only one bed trope. reader is forced to watch shakma.

What started as an innocent, “My door is always open,” offer to a tired, gaming withdrawing Ren became a habit you had no desire to break. You walked him back to your place after his shift at the diner and after your classes let out. He would sneak out of Jabberwock to bring a new terrible horror movie to watch. You would find an excuse to back out of plans so you would be able to be home when he would likely stop by.

It was almost starting to feel like he lived there.

You hopped up on your bed next to him, leaning up against the wall and settling in. “What are we watching tonight?”

He so rarely looked excited, but there was a mischievous, almost manic enthusiasm in his eyes, “Shakma.”

You stared at him. 

He set his laptop up on his legs and opened up the movie site.

“The movie with the killer monkey?” You ventured.

“Yes. It’s so bad.” He was giddy. In his own way.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your blanket over your legs and accepted your fate. It wouldn’t be the first horrible, no good, very bad movie he’d made you watch.

The movie was worse than bad. The movie was so bad that the weather outside went from a cloudless night to a rolling thunderstorm. You jumped once at a particularly loud thunder clap and he had mocked you, asking if you were actually scared of the killer monkey.

“I’m not scared of the killer monkey,” you scoffed, “I’m scared of my shitty cathedral room getting flooded by the storm.”

Ren was too invested in the evil baboon killing med students to react with much nuance, “That would suck.”

The rest of the movie passed (thankfully, it seemed like it would never end) and Ren enjoyed every second of the awful film. You could appreciate his excitement, it was cute to see him so focused and invested. The light of the laptop screen flashed against his face, illuminating his eyes and accentuating his handsome features. Honestly, most of the movie you were imagining snuggling up to him, maybe using his shoulder as a pillow, and that’s what kept you from going completely insane from the terrible direction of the “plot.” You knew if you actually tried to do anything like that, he’d complain about harassment and whine until you apologized and it might just ruin everything you had with him.

You respected his boundaries, anyway, and knew that your fantasies would go unfulfilled. You were happy enough just being friends with him, getting to know about his bad taste in movies, opening whatever links he sent you to replenish his game stamina, and even starting a game or two yourself because he wanted the referral credits. Ah, the lengths you went to for this ungrateful boy.

The credits rolled and he pulled out his phone immediately, logging in to one of his mobile games to collect dailies. It must have been past midnight already. He was like a living alarm for you. You knew what hour it was based on him opening up whatever game on his phone, they all had different reset times, and this one was midnight.

Stretching your legs, you climbed up on your knees and leaned over his legs, bracing yourself against the foot-board to look out your window. The storm hadn’t let up, and you watched a torrent of rain rage against your window. The trees bowed outside from the sheer force of the wind and as you watched, a flash of lighting touched down, turning your room almost white from the brightness.

“What are you doing?” He asked, distracting you from your inspection.

Still bent over on your knees, you answered, “I don’t think the rain is going to let up.” You pushed yourself back and sat back down next to him.

If the laptop had a brighter color than black on the screen, you would have seen him blushing. For once, he was lucky, and the credits had given away to a black pause screen that kept you in the dark about his reaction. “Great,” he complained instead. “I’ll have to walk home in the dark and during a storm.”

You frowned, “Maybe it’ll be really bad for now, and then lessen up in a bit if you want to wait?”

He was quiet, and you knew he wasn’t doing anything important in the game since he just opened up the character menu, checked their stats, and then swiped to another one. He knew all of that information already by heart, he was just distracting himself and trying to appear casual. “Don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?”

You did, actually, and it surprised you he remembered it. Your surprise must have shown on your face, because he scowled at you before you could answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t ignore everything you say…” He pouted.

You bit back a smile, “Just 90% of it?” You teased.

“...40%.” He answered.

“Aw, so everything about how you really should treat Haru more nicely you ignore?” You poked his shoulder.

He turned his head away, “Now I’m ignoring you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile and fell back onto your pillow, propping your knees up so you didn’t kick him. You were nice to him, even when he didn’t deserve it. “I do have an early morning tomorrow, but I don’t want you to drown out there or get struck by lightning or something, so I won’t kick you out.”

Ren set down his phone and steadied his laptop, more unnecessary movements to stall for time. 

“You don’t have to stay,” You promised him, softening your voice as to not startle him, “I have an umbrella somewhere around here if you’d be more comfortable going home.” It wasn’t your intention to push him or to try to break any boundaries he had very clearly set. Ren wasn’t a… touchy, emotional guy. He was stubborn, he was pessimistic, and he had a very small social battery. In the time you had known him, you knew he didn’t like casual touches, he didn’t respond well to verbal affection, and he could barely tolerate even calling you a friend. You understood these things and you would never want to put him in a situation where he felt obligated to put up with something that made him uncomfortable.

Another minute of silence passed, and you rolled to your side and prepared to search for that umbrella. He spoke up before you could stand fully, “You don’t expect me to sleep on the floor or something, do you?”

You bounced lightly back down on the bed. Did he really want to stay? “No…” but you only had the one bed.

He pushed his laptop further away from him, expression fully readable. He was uncertain, torn between the discomfort of walking home while the storm blew branches off of the trees and the discomfort of sleeping in a comparatively warm bed. With you. His friend who he couldn’t stop going to almost every day. Who he spent most of his time with, who didn’t run his social battery to empty, and who never tried to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. You had just watched a truly despicable movie with him, not complaining, not nagging him to pick something else. You never asked for any kind of payment for your company and care. 

Would it really be that bad?

His cheeks flushed again at his own line of thinking and he looked out the window to avoid you seeing it. Your room was dark, only a few candles lighting up small radiuses around the room. You wouldn’t have even really been able to see it if he had stayed facing you. 

You thought carefully. You really didn’t want to send him out in the rain, and you were worried that he was going to do just that if you didn’t fix the situation quickly. What was one night on your own cold, rickety, dusty floor? It would just be one of the many things you dealt with for him,  “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor-”

He groaned, “Don’t be a martyr. It’s fine, we always sit on your bed to watch movies anyway. How different can it be?”

~~~

You took some time snuffing out your candles, changing into your most normal, modest, and not embarrassing pajamas possible. He had left a bag in your room one day that had a pair of spare joggers and a t-shirt from when he had to change last minute for work, and you had generously thrown them in with your laundry after he forgot them. One win for Ren tonight not having to sleep in jeans!

You thought it might be the only win, given the absolutely devastated look he had on his face staring down at your narrow bed.

He was not small, despite the closed off way he carried himself. His shoulders were relatively broad and his legs were long. You imagined that alone he’d feel squished in your bed. With you as well? He would be channeling the experience of a sardine. You considered again offering to sleep on your floor, but your sock-clad feet could feel the cold seeping in from the floorboards and you shuddered to think of sleeping down there.

“Wall side or door side?” You offered, trying to lighten the mood.

He frowned, “Wall side, so you don’t push me off onto the floor.” He climbed in, pulling the covers over him and keeping his face pointed at the wall. He fit exactly, with no room at the top or bottom to stretch out any further. 

You climbed in after him, plugging in your phone and blowing out the last candle on your nightstand before pulling the covers up. It felt strange. The weight of his body dipped your mattress in a way that you weren’t used to. The normally cold chill of your room seemed lessened with his additional body heat under the covers. You imagined the sensation of an invisible barrier between you two, keeping you from settling fully on your bed. One of your shoulders was resting on air.

There was silence in your room, cut only by the constant of the rain outside, the wind making your old walls moan and crack, and the occasional distant boom of thunder. It went on so long, you weren’t sure if he was already asleep or just determined to pretend to be. You were about to accept the crick you’d have in your neck when he spoke up.

“I can’t move over anymore than I already am,” he sounded annoyed, but the kind of annoyed he was when you brought him lunch and he was upset about you bringing a rice bowl instead of noodles. The kind of annoyed where he would have said thank you and been grateful, if only he weren’t cursed to be so terribly bratty.

“It’s fine! I can scoot over more,” you assured, sliding over a few more inches until you had to flex your arm to keep it from falling limp over the side of the bed.

Ren raised up on his elbow to inspect you and scowled, “You’re gonna fall off, so just-” he reached across you and grabbed your arm to pull you back up on the bed and froze.

His face turned red and you assumed yours matched from the scorching heat you felt in your cheeks. Ren was leaning over you, holding your arm, in the process of pulling you closer to him, and his face was closer to you than it ever had been. He could have lowered a few more inches and kissed you- If, big on the if, this situation were romantic and not potentially traumatizing for him. You hoped if he ever got this close to you it would be without an expression of such embarrassment and terror.

He dropped you and flipped over immediately, pulling the covers up to his ears and facing the wall, “Whatever, you can fall off if you're so determined to. I can't stop you.” 

You took a slow, careful breath to calm your racing heart. The feeling of his hand on your arm lingered until the draft stole it away. You scooted over just enough to fit on your own bed and responded, “I’ll try not to.” 

A few beats passed and he did not try to talk to you.

“Goodnight, Ren,” you mumbled, turning away from him and closing your eyes.

“...night…” he mumbled right back.

Ah, what a pair.

~~~

You started shivering in the middle of the night. He flopped over onto his back and glared at you. How was he ever going to sleep when you were shaking like a Chihuahua mere inches away from him?

“Cut it out,” he grumbled quietly.

You didn't respond and the pathetic shivers didn't cease. 

He pushed himself up and squinted at you in the darkness. The curtains were too translucent to keep out much moonlight, and he could see that your eyes were shut tight and you took slow, even breaths in your sleep. Ren frowned. It was cold here, it was no wonder that you were shivering so much.

He laid back down and stared at your ceiling. Did you spend every night like this? Whenever he left you to go home to Jabberwock, did you climb up into your rickety bed and freeze yourself to sleep? What a martyr. You should have demanded to live anywhere but a dusty, moth eaten cathedral.

He turned to look at you again.

But if you lived anywhere else, would he ever have been able to be here with you? If you lived with those nepotism babies in Frostheim, for example, he'd probably have to deal with Kaito and Luka hanging around all the time. Or worse, Jin demanding your presence at all hours of the night. He couldn't stand watching you disappear into that rich bastard’s room.

If you lived in Vagastrom, you'd what? Live in the trunk of some car and he'd have to hope no one tried to use that car in a monster truck rally before you got out of it?  Sinostra, if you didn't get eaten by Taiga, who knows where Romeo would keep you? And those ghouls in Mortkranken, who's to say they wouldn't do some freaky experiments on you?

Of course, this was not to even consider if you lived in Jabberwock. Even with you so close by, he'd never have a chance to actually be alone with you. Haru and Towa would take up all your time and you'd help out so much you'd been too tired to hang out with him. Not…not that he needed to be alone with you or anything. 

God. He sounded like such a creep even thinking that. If thought crimes were a thing, he'd be in prison. 

You continued pitifully shivering next to him, your hands curled up into fists you held close to your chest.

He pulled the sheets up to cover your hands, his fingers brushing against yours as he did so. You felt like ice, so much that he risked carefully touching you again to confirm. Yep. Prison. But also, were you going to die of frostbite in bed next to him? He could just groan to imagine that dweeb Ritsu finding a way to implicate him in your death. Or worse, charging a ridiculous fee to defend him in court. 

There was no way around it then. He scooted closer. He was only doing this to avoid the court fees. He tugged his pillow closer to yours. And it's not like you hadn't touched before. He laid down, slowly, until his chest was against your back. You'd hugged him once- well, you hugged his arm. Because you fell and grabbed onto him for balance. But it counted. Whatever.

Ren’s heart raced as he slowly wrapped an arm around you and placed a hand over your curled fists. It didn't mean anything. There wasn’t anything significant in the way your hands felt in his or how you somehow smelled like the most comforting thing he could imagine. He rested his head on his pillow and felt you slowly relax, your shivering dissipating as he warmed you up. It was like you were melting, your curled up form unwinding delicately until you fit against him like you belonged there.

He shut his eyes tightly and tried to keep from breathing too heavily and waking you up. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale- without meaning to, he started matching your rhythm. However awake and grumpy he felt moments before, now he felt like he could pass out and never wake up again. Just as long as you stayed there in bed with him…

No, there was no way. He'd just have to wake up before you did and never let you know he did this and then it would be like nothing ever happened. It didn't matter how good it felt or how there was a little sliver of his heart that ached to do this every night. He bit back a groan of annoyance. 

This was obviously your fault.

~~~

Sunlight filtered through your curtains, illuminating your room in a soft but insistently bright glow. Your phone alarm went off a few seconds later and you reached up to turn it off.

After the rough and cold start to the night, you felt certain you'd sleep horribly, but as you rubbed your eyes and stretched your legs, you thought you got the best night of sleep you'd had in a long time. You sat up in bed, pleasantly cozy and unable to keep a small smile off of your lips.

Ren was already up, shoving his night clothes into his bag.

“Good morning,” you managed mid yawn.

He made a noise at you.

“Sleep okay?” You asked, “Sorry if you were uncomfortable.” He seemed… off and you felt guilty that he had such a bad night when you felt so invigorated.

“It was fine…” he responded noncommittally before straightening up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder. 

You nodded, your good mood hanging by a thread. 

He gave you a look you didn't see as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pawed for your phone to check your texts. He wanted to tell you a number of things he couldn't even let himself think. So he just grabbed his things and made his way to the door as he checked his own phone. “I have a bunch of raids tonight back to back.” He announced.

“Hmm, okay,” You acknowledged.

He frowned. Invite him back.

You were too tired to get it.

“Ugh, I'll be back tonight. You're not busy, right?”

You shook your head.

He frowned again, opened the door, and stood in the doorway. There were so many ways to end this better. He turned to look at you, your covers puddled in your lap, your cheek baring the red crease mark of your pillow, your eyes still foggy with sleep. He could say anything, do anything better than just saying “bye” and closing the door behind him.

You smiled softly at him, “I'll see you tonight,”

His cheeks felt hot, “Yeah. Bye.” He stepped out and shut the door behind him, that picture of you sitting in bed and smiling at him burned in his brain. He'd be able to think of nothing else all day. Ren checked his weather app. More rain tonight.

He started off back towards Jabberwock. It would be too much of a hassle to grab an umbrella and you would freeze without him… he scowled at his own thoughts as he trudged home. This was really all your fault.

[drey-theintrovertedcake]

"I didn't want anyone to have to feel that way.."

Now. After reading this short comic made by one of the Sonic IDW comic artists, Adam Bryce Thomas, I'm starting to understand Lanolin the Sheep a lot. comic here

The short sketched comic explains a realistic depiction of the whole collateral damage from the endless battles between Sonic and Eggman. There may be victory from the heroes, but let's not forget about the damage those battles had caused. Lanolin was a part of this. She didn't expect this to happen, and because of that, she wanted to make a difference despite her serious personality around the Restoration (let's not forget that PTSD can change you a lot, and this war never ever ends). Even if she looked up to Sonic for being the infamous Hero he is, she has never forgotten the destruction caused by him and Eggman. She may have resentment on Sonic for that, because if you think about it.. Sonic messed up a lot, and he has spared Eggman many times already when he had the chance to stop him. Wouldn't this cycle of war all be over if Sonic FINALLY defeated Eggman? And if that were the case, then Lanolin wouldn't have to go through so much. The remains of Eggman's robots after Infinite's reign, the Metal Virus, Surge and Kit's attacks... Lanolin couldn't catch a break.

If there was a scene of Lanolin snapping at Sonic and the other heroes for not handling things well, for not finishing the job, and for all of the hell she and other innocent people have gone through.. I'd say: "Y'know what? That's completely understandable.."

Lanolin wants to at least help because she never wanted anyone to go through the bad shit she went. Of course, she admits to everyone that she's not as experienced as the others and may come off as bossy and strict, but she wants EVERYTHING to be okay or it'll end up a disaster (Kinda like Miguel O'Hara when he admits he's been trying to hold the Spider-verse together as it really messed him up after his mistake). Honestly, I love her development from being a helpless citizen in the background to being a soldier of the Restoration and leader of the new team, The Diamond Cutters. However, things might go south cause of.. *coughs* Mimic, Surge, Kit, Clutch & Eggman.... *coughs* Well, let's see how this goes.

Btw, if you want more of these defenses of Lanolin and her character, try to look into @sage-nebula, @fazar234 and @kingmaxstatic's analysis of her!! They're so good and give me a better understanding of the character!!

@sage-nebula: Lanolin has PTSD

@fazar234: Understanding Lanolin

@kingmaxstatic: In Defense Of Lanolin, A Post About Perspective, Flaws and Development.

[hwnglx]

hm i tried my best to explain, he has a lot of different facets to him, so reading for him can get a little overwhelming.. hope it's still a nice read 🤍

jake's ideal type

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

shuffled songs: bored by billie eilish young and beautiful by lana del rey “will you still love me, when i got nothing but my aching soul?”

physical traits

natural and classic beauty. harmonious features. deep and intense eyes. color more on the darker side. (like dark eyes you can lose yourself in) fierce gaze. something strong about their features that makes them stand out, it just catches your eye. face that lights up once they smile. (looks colder in a resting position but transform once they break into a smile) keep hearing “부담스러워” meaning burdenful. in this context, used more in an “intimidating” manner. in korean this can be used for people who have intensity to their look, people you can't hold eye contact with for long. he doesn't have an extremely specific type, just needs to feel intrigued.

personality traits

so, jake likes his partners to have a powerful effect on him. what seems to intrigue him in a person, is “reverse charm” where they might look sweet and innocent, but are much more fierce and savage inside. or look intense and cold, but end up being very soft and sweet inside. someone with a captivating aura, who carries themselves with a sense of mystery. a person he looks at and makes him wonder, awakens his interest like.. “oh this person must have such a different side to them deep down.”

jake also likes it when his lovers can boldly challenge him and his beliefs. he wants someone witty who isn't afraid to talk back at him, change his perspectives. someone whose words and actions linger in his mind, make him re-think his own and in hindsight change and transform him for the better. he wants his relationships to turn him into the better version of himself and to provoke him to discover his best self.

another quality he seems to cherish in his romantic partners, is when they're patient, gentle and persevering. he wants someone with emotional intelligence and empathy for people, who looks after the ones they treasure with great care. he needs someone loyal who won't be discouraged quickly, and remains committed to him through every trial. he seems to be quite self aware, so he knows that he isn't exactly the easiest lover to deal with.. whether that's because of his busy schedule, or his more complicated nature. he wants a person with motives and interests selfless enough to be accepting towards his faults, forgiving towards his mistakes. he wants a resilient person who can encourage him to work on himself. honestly, he seems to like his s/o to have motherly energy. he wants someone who will nurture him, coddle him on some levels, but also give him the tough love he needs to grow.

jake wants a person who puts importance into keeping the relationship harmonious. he'd appreciate a person who can balance him out, in a way where they can complete him in the areas he lacks. for instance, someone much more stable and grounded than him. someone who can be more logical or objective and less impulsive when the situation asks for it. i keep hearing “정신 차려”, which means “come to your senses” or “pull yourself together”.

(note; this insight was interesting because i think he's this case of opposites attracting and benefitting from each other. he could grow a lot from being with someone like jay, who has a stellium in taurus, which is opposite jake's scorpio stellium. idk if they're close but despite unavoidable clashes due to being so so different, they have potential to balance each other out pretty well)

jake puts a lot of value into understanding each other on a level deeper than everyone else. he wants there to be effortless communication between the two, almost telepathic, where they know what the other means even without necessarily being vocal about it. the person who seems to know you so well; they complete your sentences, or know what you're thinking or feeling just by one glance at your expression.

he also seems to like his lovers having this duality in personality, where they can be both; cute, playful and kittenish (someone who flirts in this giggly and coy way), but capable of having meaningful and long conversations about deep and serious matters in life. he does seem to love duality a lot, whether that's appearance-wise or character-wise.

him as a boyfriend

+ jake is a boyfriend who loooves making you feel like it's only you and him in this world. he really values alone-time and deep intimacy, whether that's physical intimacy in the form of quality time, or emotional intimacy in the form of deep conversations. he enjoys zoning in on his partners and focusing the entirety of his attention on them.

sweet aspect; he himself can be very moody, but if you need him to be your source of comfort and shoulder to cry on, he can become that for you. he'll put effort into making sure he wins over your trust and you feel comfortable around him. he wants you to feel safe enough to not be afraid of showcasing your emotions, whether that's sadness, frustration, anger.. he likes to see it all. he does enjoy seeing his lover riled up about him lmao, since to him it shows they're passionate about the relationship. but there is this comforting and warm energy to him, where he's good at making you feel seen, and listened to.

he is the type of boyfriend who will want to stick by your side through all storms. he really values what his lovers have to say. let's say you got into an argument with him; once you've both calmed down, he might sit you down, softly take your hand and deeply gaze into your eyes while quietly listening to your side of the story. he'll want to understand your perspective and your heart.

he can be responsible as a lover. it almost feels like a task to him to fulfill his role as a boyfriend, to make you feel like you can rely on him. he wants to lead the relationship, and make you feel secure. it's very much an equal give and take, since he does seem to enjoy leaning on his partner for security at times as well. evidently, he seems to actually like a balanced relationship with no crazy power dynamics.

- hm, some heavy energy here i don't feel comfortable diving into deeply. but i can sense him realizing he has a habit of so strongly clinging to his lovers, due to abandonment issues. which can be quite common for scorpio placements.. he's scared of being left behind and replaced with someone “better”, due to him potentially not being good enough to stay with. there's some lingering fatigue and emotional baggage from the past he seems to struggle letting go of.

jake can put so much pressure on himself to satisfy his partner. he wants them to feel fulfilled and confident in the relationship and makes it his responsibility. it can weigh on him if he feels like his partner is starting to lose the spark, fall out of love with him, and especially lose their trust in him. he wants his lover to recognize how much he cares about the connection, but is self-aware enough to understand it's his own bad habits and impulsiveness that can stand in the way.

i can see him having bad habits like, having wandering eyes or being too charming and.. complementary towards women, where it can border on flirting. blurring the lines (like in his eyes it wasn't flirting but his partner sees it differently). though i can't see him straight up cheating, “superficial” things like that can still understandably rub partners the wrong way. it can easily cause discomfort, conflicts, miscommunication. this can lead to trust issues on both sides. he can just be a boyfriend who requires a lot of patience.

[steaming-system-takes]

IMPORTANT NON TAKE!!!

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️@/dissociative-misinfo IS SPREADING MISINFORMATION!!!!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

They're saying final fusion is a way to "heal" a system. They did say that it doesn't go away, but that's not HEALED!!

They're saying people HAVE to source separate, which is NOT true!!

And they're also just being a dick-face to anyone who says otherwise!!! Please, please, PLEASE be careful when looking at their blog!!!!!!

Good morning (again), everyone. We have some down time in our second period, so I'm taking the time to address this.

As some of you have already pointed out, the blog mentioned is actively spreading misinfo while being extremely aggressive towards people with different views from them. The specific things I'll be talking about are in relation to one of their reblogs of a post on our blog claiming that any form of healing other than fusion/final fusion is "anti recovery". This is blatantly wrong.

Recovery is not set in stone, nor is it completely linear. No matter what condition someone has, they aren't going to recover and/or heal the same way others might. This can apply to any mental illness and/or disorder. Let's say two people are suffering from clinical depression, and both are taking antidepressants as well as going to therapy regularly. One of the two ends up being in therapy longer that the other, simply because the two individuals recover at different rates and in different ways. One may reach a point of recovery by spending time outdoors in natural sunlight more often, while the other reaches a point of recovery by interacting with family and friends more often. Both are recovering, despite their different ways of doing so.

The same logic can be applied to systemhood. For some systems, fusion is their way of recovering and healing. For others, fusion only causes them more stress, more hardships, which can very well lead to more splitting and a worsening mental state. Final fusion is not a cure-all for dissociative disorders. There is no such thing as a cure-all for anything. As a system, a large part of our healing stems from building connections between headmates and being able to rely on each other. When headmates fuse, there is a clear absence of the support they offered the rest of the system. Our headmates matter to us, so of course we react to fusions and dormancies the same way a singlet would react to the loss of a friend or family member. When me and my fellow headmates work together and support each other, we are healing. We're learning to make the most of this disorder and embrace it with positivity and optimism instead of dread and distaste. We're learning that we aren't alone, and that there is always someone we can lean on when we need it. We're learning to trust, which is something we've always struggled to do because of our trauma responses. For us, that is healing. However, we recognize and acknowledge that there are systems who heal and recover in different ways. That's okay. Trauma is deeply personal, and how you recover from it is entirely dependent on the individual. There's no right or wrong way to overcome trauma. Trying to force someone to do something they can't handle/aren't ready for/don't want isn't helping them. That is hurting them. That is anti-recovery, as you're actively reversing any progress they might have made.

As for source separation, that also entirely depends on the individual. We've talked about this on our main blog, but I'll summarize our points to make this easier on everyone. There are reasons that introjects may choose to source separate, and there are reasons they may choose not to. Both are equally as valid as the other. What an alter chooses to identify with/not identify with is no one else's decision but their own. No one has the right to strip someone of their own identity.

We've found out through a reblog from one of our followers that this blog is pro endo. For that reason, we'll be blocking this blog as this breaks our DNI. We encourage anyone else to block this blog as well to ensure none of you come across any harmful/triggering things yourselves. We haven't looked at any other posts from this blog, but we've seen warnings of their posts being paranoia inducing. Please stay safe out there <3

Okay! That was a lot! Thank you for bringing this to our attention, and thank you to the people who have reblogged these posts combating the spread of misinformation. Fortunately for you all, we have some hot takes lined up and ready to post for you! Thank you for bearing with me. I'll try to keep posts on this blog a little more lighthearted from this point on, but sometimes you need to sit down and talk about something serious ^^;

It's better than having Zack do it, I'll tell you that much /lh humor

Yours truly, Mod Green

[wisteriawyvern]

I was scrolling and thinking of how cute FiddleStan is and how plausible it seems minus the fact that of course by the beginning of the show Stan doesn't really enjoy being around Fidds that much and Fidds doesn't seem to remember much about Stan except what the town knows.

That got me thinking...

We know for sure Fidds has massive amounts of anxiety, to the point where he prefers forgetting things over dealing with or confronting them, especially after using the memory gun a few times.

We know that Stan was more mentally determined to find Ford and earn enough money at the shack that he wasn't going to let anything else stop him.

So what if

Fidds came to the door to apologize to Ford, and Ford opened the door but sounded a little different:

"Stanford please, I don't want to end our friendship the way we left it, I don't even remember what we fought about, but I miss you."

"Uhh..yeah sure pal, I mean what are friends for right?"

Or something along those lines. So they go inside, or they continue talking at the door, and Ford is different from what Fidds remembers but that's probably an effect of the memory gun and.....and those are only 5 fingers. Those are only 5 fingers when he knows Ford has 6 fingers.

What is talking to him?

What looks just like his friend, but missed that crucial detail?

Fidds gets more and more anxious and flighty the longer they talk after realising this, and it starts making Stan uncomfortable as he was just acting like Ford to maybe keep up a friendship and have someone to talk to that might be able to help him eventually, but now this dude is getting weirder by the second.

So Fidds makes an excuse to leave and just vanishes, goes back home and uses the memory gun on himself to erase what just happened, and subsequently deletes most of his memories with Ford, and Stan hopes this was just an odd time and Ford's friend might be back but more sane.

Then the next time Stan sees him Fidds acts like he's never met Stan before in his life, like he's a complete stranger. And once again leaves Stan feeling isolated and alone, wanting his brother back to be able to explain what this friendship was and if Stan ruined yet another thing in Fords life without him even being there.

That or even worse, Fidds treats Stan as if he were Ford and is all touchy and kind, but noticed his fingers and pretends to be completely the same until he leaves and then erases his memory, to which Stan gets even worse whiplash from being outright forgotten and ignored.

Again.

The angst flows strong with this one -points to Stanley-

[hannahssimblr]

“Jude! God, c’mere.” Michelle thrusts me into the centre of the group, where someone has propped a card against a vase on the counter. I ensure to arrange my features carefully into some sort of surprised expression. 

“Oh, what? This for me?”

“Yes,” they cry. It’s a handmade card that says ‘you’re dead to us’ on the front. “Aw, Jesus, thanks!” I say, and they laugh and watch me while I open it and start reading some messages scrawled on the inside. There are so many of them, many even squeezed into the tiniest corners, or sideways along the edge.

‘Good luck on your big adventure!’ some say. Others share a memory, wish me luck, express jealousy at my escape. I close it. 

“I’ll read this late when you’re not all gawking at me,” I tell them, which gets a good laugh despite the lack of comedy, and as I look around at their faces, their sad, sentimental smiles and I wish the night was over already, and I was already gone. I feel exposed, like a man under a spotlight without something to say. Would they like me to entertain them? To read their messages and get emotional in the middle of my kitchen?

I catch Jen’s eye. She’s behind the others, by the patio door, dressed in a very funereal black, and an expression to match. While chatter resumes around me, I jerk my head towards the garden, and without words, she understands. She slips through the door and out into the night. 

Jen and I wordlessly follow the path that winds down from the house to the pergola at the back of the garden. We sit on a bamboo settee shielded by trees from the road, where the occasional car passes. The breeze lifts pieces of her hair that frame her face. 

She is staring towards the kitchen, its yellow light pouring out into the garden when she breaks the silence. 

“What a weird party.” 

I exhale a laugh through my nose. “Honestly, I didn’t know if you’d even come.”

She purses her lips. “I’m not totally sure why I did.”

“Maybe you had something you wanted to say.”

“Maybe. Though I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear it.” She looks at me then, her brown eyes dark in the failing light as they study mine. “It surprised me to see Evie here.”

“Me too. I didn’t think she’d come.”

“On her own, too.”

I shrug. “Shane and Claire were busy. They were going to their debs.”

“Ah, the debs.” She picks lint from her black mesh top and laughs humourlessly. “Bet you’re sorry you’ll miss ours. I know how excited you were to suit up for it.”

Even the concept of wearing a suit makes me uncomfortable, as though an invisible tie is pulled too tightly at my throat. “You’re going, I presume.”

“Yeah, with Michelle. The two of us are kind of like the dateless losers in the year. Feels about right to end it all this way.”

“I didn’t think Michelle would be interested in all that stupid stuff, if I’m honest.”

“I think that’s what you assumed. If you’d asked her, she might have told you something different.”

“Hm,” I say. “More evidence of being a kind of shit boyfriend, isn’t it?”

An infinitesimal smile nudges at her lips. “I always said you were better apart. She really brought out the worst in you.”

“It felt that way, to be honest. When I was with her, I really didn’t like myself, or I wasn’t completely myself around her.”

“Well, then. Hopefully, one day you’ll find someone who lets you be yourself. It’s what everyone wants for themselves.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“I kind of thought you’d found that with Evie.”

I sigh, suddenly irritated, while she draws into herself, hands tucked under her arms. “Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know the right thing to say about her.”

“I kind of wish you wouldn’t say anything to me about her, because, like…”

“It isn’t my business, and all that,” she finishes, and with a nod, she turns her face toward the bushes flanking the garden with their spiky black leaves silhouetted against the deep blue sky.

My voice trembles. “Jen, I don’t want to be angry with you right now, like, I don’t want to go off and start this new part of my life when I feel this way, but the things you said to Evie at the festival, I just… It’s like, no matter how much I think it over, I can’t come up with a reason you would say those things to her.”

She tugs the sleeve of her top between her teeth, just shaking her head. I lift my hands from my lap to look at them. They are quivering, so I clench them into fists as I continue.

“You should have been there on that second night, Jen, and seen the way she was crying. The things you said got into her head, you know what I mean? You can’t just make shit up and tell it to someone like it’s a fact. I know you love to gossip and tell stories, but this is what happens when you go too far. It has real consequences. Like, a real impact on people.”

“Yeah.”

“You told her I was staying.”

Again, she agrees, eyes still fixed on the garden. 

“Jen.”

She swallows, hard. 

“How come you said that? It’s not like I ever told you I was going to do that, is it?”

She mumbles something incoherent. 

“What? Come on, just talk to me.”

“I assumed you would.”

“You assumed? Why would you assume?”

I realise that speaking is difficult for her, as she is holding back her tears. I should feel more sympathetic towards her, but I’m righteous. With a steadiness I know is shrinking her, I stare into her face.

“Maybe it was both that I assumed and I hoped. Like, a mixture of the two.”

“Go on.”

“You seemed happy this summer, at certain moments. It was just… like,” a laboured swallow, “you’d come home late after being with her, and you were just… Happy, and talking all about her and going on and on about the funny things she said to you.”

“So?”

“So, like, I thought you’d end up going out with her in the end, and that you felt so strongly about her that you’d stay in Dublin to be with her. I don’t know, it didn’t seem that crazy an idea. You were acting like you were in love or something.” Now, she looks at me, her eyes hurt, but still searching for confirmation. Perhaps, if she were especially astute, she might have seen somewhere on my face the flash of emotion that jolted through me. I convince myself she hasn’t seen a thing and clench my jaw. 

“I think that was a fairly stupid assumption to make.”

“I don’t. You’ve always done things because pretty girls wanted you to. It’s like your life is based around chasing whatever feeling it is that you get when one of them likes you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It’s not,” I insist. “Look at me now, huh? I’m leaving her for Germany.”

“Fine,” she whispers. “I just thought you’d stay. That’s all.”

“I won’t.”

“I know that.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Do you?”

She exhales, frustrated, and throws her hands upon her lap. “Yes, I know it. Look at me, here, at your going away party. It’d be pretty fucking mental if I didn’t know it, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’ve acknowledged it.”

“You haven’t talked to me in two weeks.”

“Before that, Jen.”

She fixes the full, passionate force of her stare at me as tears fill her eyes. “Because I don’t want you to go, do I? Because I thought if I didn’t look at it, then it’d all just go away.”

I feel a surge of emotion. My throat tightens as though clenched by a fist. “Well… It doesn’t.”

“Yeah,” as the first tears spill onto her cheeks, she wipes them away with the heel of her hand. “I just didn’t want things to end. I thought if you stayed for her, then I wouldn’t have to lose you, and nothing would change.”

“They have to, though. That’s how life goes. Everything changes and everything ends, and we all just get older and things move on.”

She whimpers. “But you’re moving on without me.”

I reach out and stroke her knee with my thumb over the loose threads of the hole in her jeans. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“I just don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You’ll just live your life, and I’ll live mine, and-”

“We’ll be apart. How can I go without seeing you all the time? You’ve always just been there, and now I’ll have to get used to you being so far away, and never seeing you, and you’re, like, one of the few friends I even have, and you-”

“No, come on. You’ll make new friends in college.”

“I don’t want new friends. I don’t want to meet new people and have to explain these little things about me, and my backstory and what I like to watch on TV and order at the takeaway, and what sorts of jokes make me laugh. You already know it all, and you’ll know them better than anyone else ever will, because you were there when I decided I liked them.”

“Jenny, we’ll still talk, and we’ll visit each other-”

“There’s no point pretending it’ll be the same, because it won’t. You’re going to say you’ll stay in touch with me and we’ll be best friends forever, but that won’t happen. You’ll find people who are better, and just forget.”

“Never.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[daengtokki]

For Seubgmin's birthday countdown, could I request an apocalypse scenario where Seungmin is worried about reader coming back late from going out to get resources and thinking something might have happened to her. Like he's worried and catastrophizing and maybe they got into a small argument before she left so now he's scared his last words to her were ones of anger but he was just concerned about her safety going out alone? 💘💓💖💗❤️

Kim Seungmin/gn!reader

wc: ~1.2k

rating: post-apocalyptic fluff

Day 2 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!

Seven hours...it isn’t that long…eight hours? he thinks. No, not really, considering how long he and the others have taken before. But he knows how uncertain the usual paths in and out are, and how many there are to take. At any moment, one can be completely wiped from the map. Before you get back, he thinks again. The horrible, intrusive thoughts that won’t go away until they run through his mind, so he lets them. It could happen before you even start back home.

“Okay, enough,” he tells himself, out loud this time, and it’s strange hearing his own voice echo in the room. Seungmin heads for the doorway, and peeks outside. The others are here, most of them, crowded around a bonfire, laughing and drinking. Why didn’t anybody go with you? He knows why. It’s because you didn’t ask anyone to go along, because you’re stubborn and used to being alone. And angry at him, probably.

This is all his fault. He sets his palm against his forehead and tries to gauge his temperature, but he’s no good at this. If you were here, you could tell if it went down from this morning, or up, or stayed the same. But it doesn’t matter, he feels well enough if you don’t count the horrible nauseated feeling in his gut, or the tightness in his chest. Sucking in a deep breath takes effort, but he manages.

You’d laugh at him and pinch his cheeks if you saw him so worried, tease him mercilessly until he couldn’t come back from it. Were it anyone else, they wouldn’t stand a chance against Seungmin, but you beat him at his own game every time.

“Please…” he starts again, speaking to the floor as he starts to strip and head for the bed. “Please,” spread eagle on top of the blankets, eyes fixed on the ceilings. “Just come back. I can’t do this alone.”

~

"Minnie…I can call you that? Are you sure?"

"Of course I’m sure"

"Well, I heard you giving someone attitude when they called you that before…when I first got here."

You’re right, he hates the nickname coming from most people. He used to like it, months ago when the world was still in one piece, but everything is different now. There’s not much space left for that kind of softness, not to him. But…

'I did, you’re right. You can call me Minnie."

A roll of thunder in the distance makes his stomach sink and his heart thump in his throat. He can’t think straight enough to figure out if it’s coming from the direction you most likely went.

“You’re not going anywhere with a fever, Minnie. Get back into bed.”

“And you don’t have to go at all. Leaving when you’re mad won’t make things better.”

“I’m not mad”

“You should be. Why aren’t you pissed at me?"

"Because I love you, and I don’t wanna be angry. I was hoping you felt the same."

He stares, frozen. Again.

"No?"

The words never come out, even though he desperately wants them to, so he ends up looking like an asshole.

~

“I love you, too.” Seungmin stares up at his outstretched hand, letting his perception switch from the ceiling, to the jagged scar across his knuckles. Lightning flashes, and he jumps when thunder cracks, much closer this time. “I do.”

The slow start of rain brings everything crashing down on him. You’re out there in this—the thunder, and the lightning. He left you go when he could have stopped you. Seungmin closes his eyes, and he knows his mind will keep going, but the fever will at least put him to sleep.

It does. Everything quiets, and slowly slips away.

He dreams of you, a fever dream…everything is slow and strange. But it’s so real. Maybe he can tell you here, and you’ll feel it wherever you are. But he moves his mouth, and the words stick in his throat. Just like in his waking life. And just like you…your words do come out… Minnie

It feels good to hear your voice, even far away and in a dream. You’re burning up, sweetie…

Seungmin’s eyes open to a blur of light and colors. The lamplight, he can smell the oil. Candles. The smell of rain and something else. It’s you. He knows that scent; you, after working and sweating in the heat all day. Seungmin is feral for it, and everything else about you. Finally, you come into view. You’re drenched, and muddy.

“You’re home.” He smiles. Or tries to. His muscles don’t seem to be working yet. “I was so worried.”

“You were worried? Have you had any water while I was gone?”

No, he doesn’t think he had a drop all day. “A little.”

“I found some yarrow, but then I found more aspirin, so we’ll start with that.”

He and his stupid fever, that’s why you left? "It would have broken eventually," he’s sure, but that’s not good enough for you. “You could have gotten hurt, or lost…or worse.”

“It hasn’t gone down for three days, but it will now. And I never get lost. Sit up.”

Even your softest voice is a little demanding, and he loves it. You hand him two little pills, and Seungmin swallows them down with his first drink of water all day.

“Good boy,” You barely get the words about before he’s reaching for you. Seungmin brings you closer, and wraps his arms so tight around you—he’s not sure where the strength to do it came from.

“I’m sorry,” he tugs at your jacket and your shirt to find skin to kiss, “I’m an ass.” He savors the taste, the salt of the rain, and your sweat.

“No you’re not, Minnie”

He pulls more, and you let him continue. Seungmin kisses and nips across your chest, pulls you onto his lap, and buries you in his embrace. “I was today.”

“You haven’t been feeling well”

“I should’ve told you how much I love you.” Your lips feel cool against his burning skin. He loosens his grip so you can pull away and look at him. “Oh, you’re hurt.” He takes your arm and holds it gently, runs his fingers up and down the deep scratches, still fresh and angry looking.

“It’s nothing”

The heat from his hands and lips probably sting, but if so, you don’t show it. “So I’m telling you now.” Seungmin kisses up your arm and tastes the blood, comes back down, kisses your wrist and your palm. He grabs both of your hands and places them on his cheeks, damp from sweat. “And you’re not leaving my sight ever again.”

“But you show me all the time.” You kiss his neck again, and his cheek, and the tip of his warm nose.

Seungmin holds you there, “can I show you right now?” He asks, but takes a kiss before you answer—deep and messy and fever-warm like the rest of him. “Please.”

“That would be very irresponsible of me”

“But you love being irresponsible,” he says into your mouth. Seungmin doesn’t want to let go of your lips now that he has them back.

“You’re right, I do”

[swampybogg]

[emdotcom]

Yeah, so while I was on my "I'm going to read into Vanny/Vanessa as much as possible" journey, I noticed an odd quirk in her animations in how she moves. At first, I thought it reminded me of a ballerina, 'cause she's kinda tip-toeing, & she has this way of keeping her head & chest in one place as she moves, but I looked again & realized --

That's not ballet! She's doing a tight-rope act. Like, look at this one:

This is like standing up on the wooden boards before you do the actual tight-rope walking, & the ring leader is hyping you up as you do some fun movement for the crowds. &, then, these:

These are all instances where she walks with one foot directly in front of the other. In that third, she's doing the "woaaah" wiggly-ass balance movements & everything, as if she's swaying up at the top of the tent, even though she's down on solid ground.

Idk, I feel like the way her feet are placed isn't accurate (pretty sure they should be pointed left & right, not both forwards...) doesn't make this 100% correct, but I like it. It also connects back with her first SB teaser, wherein she's up in the rafters.

[keekity]

fashion designer & her freelance programmer gf

[pocketramblr]

do not think about evenly distributed chapter length, evenly distributed chapter length is the little death that brings about total writer's block, uneven length in chapters can't hurt you, do not think about evenly distri

[sea-jello]

uhh hi morro enjoyers i finally finishing crystalized and started dragons rising specifically euphrasias episode and morrotober is soon so i’m coming back. do you remember me

no color idk just in case the colors clash horrendously

[rubys-domain]

is it just me or... are the reputation rewards for fontaine underwhelming as hell?

[crystalkitty1220]

Might have to scrap a fic idea because I thought the panic that came with time moving too slowly or too quickly was a universal thing, but now I'm realizing I probably have chronophobia and the fic might not feel the same to other people. Don't want it to drag on or feel rushed if readers won't get the same kind of anxiety the character's getting.