#stupid ass shit argument but also that was across maybe a week and dude was piss drunk dissociative half the time

[chibi-scone]

It’s been said before and the fact that I’m an Izzy simp aside like having a character who survives the most certain death shit ever (shooting himself in the head at point blank) and literally being nicknamed by another character “indestructible” and then become a symbol of protection for a whole group of people die from a fucking bullet to the side that was established in universe to have no vital organs in order to “atone for his sins” or however you wanna spin it and have him say he wants to go after (see point one) literally trying to kill himself in the show that is literally about growth and betterment of the self in a cruel world that wants you dead and where the main (and mostly queer) characters survive the most batshit insane injuries is like COSMICALLY stupid writing like I don’t even understand how you get there and the fact that it’s supposed to be a kind/ happy/meaningful ending is beyond me

[beann-e]

I have a head cannon that bakugou would not be sweet to who he liked or dated and instead deny it and hate on them even more.

The reason being because he doesn’t really understand feelings so, when he’s talking badly about you he just assumes it’s normal and a bit funny at the lies he’s spitting that his just continuously friends are eating up.

he’s been talking bad about people for years so , who cares if your his s/o your no acceptation all people are equal in his mind. Now lemme explain please fall in line and hold a buddys hand kids we’re going on a trip inside my brain

It wasn’t easy getting the spiky haired male to ask you out honestly if someone asked you , which they’d never dare since they’d never know per bakugous request him saying it’s not their business , how you two got together you would shrug your shoulders and walk off.

It wasn’t that it was a boring day or a simple question that you supplied the answer for. It was that it was unusual.

You’d been at quirk practice after school in the gym like you’d usually do only this time bakugou made his way over to you.

You’d been seeing him more often when you were in the gym and you weren’t sure why until he explained that he was interested in your workout routine saying you two could have a contest to see who’s was more grueling

It seemed like fun so like any competitive person you agreed. Only for him to tap out on day two your laughs swirling around the gym as he fought so hard to say he only lost because he just didn’t like how the air would hit his ass crack anytime he did your little girly squats you’d wrote down for him.

You couldn’t say you weren’t both confused and happy when he let the air calm down before he spoke “ i’m kind of conflicted “ his eyes coming up to look at yours from the floor “ could you maybe help me“

“ of course what’s up “

“ i’m at a standstill “

“ more like a sit still “ you joked eyes peering down at his straight face “ yeah ok let’s imagine that didn’t happen —continue “

“ uh yeah anyways — i’m at a standstill because honestly I like your shit workout “ he shook his head to the floor “ but I also like you so I find myself thinking if I couldn’t get through your workout even though I enjoyed it so much could I “

his voice rasped shakily “ could I get through a relationship with you even though I like you even more “

truthfully you’d wish you’d said no because right now you wanted nothing more than to just be friends with the male sitting across the room from you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him of course you did he was hot , smart, and felt strongly about his goals but, he was an asshole.

Not in the aspect of hes just mean and rude but he was an all around prick as he laughed with his friends from across the room.

Their voices only getting louder as you sat alone a few seats away from them trying to complete some work on your desk you’d just been given “ dude gotta admit class 1-A’s got some hot chicks “

“ yeah honestly minas top three if we’re being truthful “

“mina dude come on have you seen jirou “

“ don’t even get me started “ denkis voice came out in a soft groan “ god I would— “

“ yeah yeah all that jazz but “ seros voice came out soft. His hand coming up to point at the seat as you sat in with your head down eyes furrowed in anger at the math on your paper that wasn’t syncing up with your brain right now

“ y/n “ his fist tightened as he groaned “ y/n could get it on all accounts — the car “

“ you don’t have a car “ denkis voice came out as sero continued

“ the school bathroom “

“ but which one ? because one of you would have to go in the wrong sex’s unless its a handicap or family stal-“

“the fucking dorms “

“ y/n ? “ kirishima asked quickly “ y/n l/n ? “

“ fuck yeah “

“ hmm “ kirishima studied you before shaking his head “ honestly kinda hot never really paid attention to that stuff before though “

“ what the fuck how can’t you “

“ uh i’m more so a personality guy “

“ so by personality would you fuck em ‘ “

“ not to be vulgar but of course “ his answer taking no time “ y’know how fun they’d be in a relationship though not just with sex ? imagine cuddles—fuck —what about cuddle monster y/n maybe ? god that’d be so hot “

denki getting restless as he held his thoughts in from the other males. His mind spazzing before finally getting to speak “ i’d fuck her too “ he yelled everyone’s eyes going sharp on the boy before he coughed “ id rock it too — we’re talking about getting mullets “

“ oh boys that’d be kinda hot “ you said laughing sarcastically sero turning to you smiling softly “ oh yeah on who in particular “

“ mm totally blondie over there “

“ the fuck ? “ his eyes shot away from denkis and moved to yours anger pouring through his gaze making you jerk back a little in surprise “ the hell you mean i’d look hot “

your eyebrows creased “ well because I — you do you would “

“ don’t go talking out of your ass you hear me—shit people like you don’t deserve to talk to anyone about looks “ your mouth went dry at his lazer stare.

His lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head “ these assholes are talking about fucking you yknow “ he whispered to you “ you gonna let em ? you gonna let em right? because that’s the only attention you’d ever get right “

“ bakubro hold up chill out “

“ yeah bakubro chill out “ you said your gaze wavering from the hard one you’d had when you felt the heat radiating off of him no comfort coming from him to you only confusing you more. Had you two been in a secret argument that you knew nothing about

“ whatever “ he leaned back in his chair as the class went back to what they were doing your hands gripping the pencil when the class got even louder but you only searching for your boyfriends voice easily drowning out the others

“ i’d never fuck “ your heart broke at the deep voice youd identified

“ dude seriously come on with the lies —fucking beautiful “

“ correctomundo my friend their absolutely stunning “

his laugh ripping through their claims hand jerking back to point at you “ you think their beautiful much less hot ? “

“ yeah you don’t ? “ denki spat all of them looking at the boy like he was crazy for enjoying this obviously racy topic right now much less taking the wrong side of the debate

“ I literally just sat here and said I wouldn’t fuck em’ pokémon —so you can guess what that correlates to “

“ hey dude why’re you being sucha a dick —the personality’s top tier even if your stupid enough to think their not at least hot“ kirishima putting the ending words in quotation marks honestly a bit upset with his friend

“ hey watch it your over here defending an extra like your gonna make moves on em “ he laughed “ I advise otherwise “

you let out a sigh thinking he’d finally stopped acting the way he was. Your mind preparing to only give him the silent treatment for today and then tomorrow peppering him with kisses until he laughed and apologized for his words

Heart only being snatched away from your body when you heard his deep vibrating voice cut through the room “ probably gonna give you a rash from all the shit that’s on their mouth all the time “

it’s just lipgloss.

Lipgloss bakugou bought you packs of earlier this week after he swore he loved the taste and scent.

moving to wipe at it gently with the sleeve of your outfit him still going causing tears to start building up in your eyes “ bet the bitch doesn’t even shower —had em’ over for a project last night had to wash my sheets and blanket —took hours last night “

“ oh “ denki let out “ I was a bit confused when I saw you at the laundry room at 3 in the morning.

Tears blurring your vision as you thought about his earlier words when he’d given you your favorite sweater of his after saying he’d washed it for you because he knew you wouldn’t do it yourself because in his words ‘ you would never wash it without his help because you were a creep and didn’t want to erase his smell or some shit ‘

“ yeah —smelled so bad im telling you stay away you don’t wanna ask em’ out “

you moved to grab your phone as he kept talking you typing out a message as best as you could before hitting send. His hand moving off the desk and going in his pants pocket to pull his phone out keeping it hidden under the table eyes trailing over the screen

Firefighter >3

baby are we arguing

if your mad at me please just tell me don’t just talk shit about me in front of your friends

him locking his phone and placing it on his desk before you typed out one more message him letting out a sigh as he grabbed for it again

firefighter >3

if you keep going we’re over

“ but imagine whoever bags them apart from bakugou at least since we all know he’s all anti hot y/n “

“ they’d be so lucky “

“ yeah right “ he spoke lowly almost trying to hide his voice from you eyes glued to his phone “ wouldn’t dare “

“ wouldnt dare what bakugou “

“ oh wouldnt dare be —-be lucky “ he locked his phone again “ feel bad for the person dating them all the shit they gotta go through put up with , claims they make through message and not with real words, being too much of a pussy to speak up for themselves“

he shook his head softly eyes twitching “ you wouldn’t put up with that —you couldn’t put up with that your not built for it you gotta have tough skin y’know like me “

he licked his lips moving to sit up straighter when hearing his phone vibrate “ don’t uh “

firefighter >3

one more bakugou

one more bakugou katsuki and were over

his eyes darting over to yours before his eyebrows furrowed and body shook in anxiousness he couldn’t figure out what to do.

He was an asshole you knew this so why the fuck were you being such a crybaby now? did he pick the wrong person to date he thought you were strong

He genuinely just wanted to keep these creeps away from what’s his by scaring them off he wasn’t doing anything wrong? well at least in his eyes

He moved to talk again trying his best to string together a nice sentence “ just don’t uh ask —ask em’ out —-their utter dog shit when it comes to relationships leave it to someone who can handle that y’know “

he relaxed into his chair at his victory when he watched you throw your phone to the table and fix your skirt and standup. Him sighing out when you picked up your stuff to leave “ thank all might “ he whispered head shooting to lean back against his desk chair and look up at the sky blood running cold when his phone vibrated against the table

firefighter >3

all your shits gonna be outside my dorm door. So you might want to come collect it before I have half and half lighting campfires tonight

y’know since i’m such a shit person —gotta hope your bestie deku can give me some after school lessons on personalities. He’s so sweet I bet he’ll fix me right up

screw you katsuki see you in hell

“ the —the fuck what did —the hell did I do wrong “ he screamed when he saw you slam the classroom door after flicking him off

his friends eyes moving from the door to bakugous phone that he’d thrown on the table.

Todorokis eyes going wide when he read his stupid nickname given to him by the steamy male “ I —I uh“ he coughed “ I think i’m gonna go help y/n since their now single—don’t want em’ getting hurt with amateur fire starters again when i’m right here “

his stone face peered down at the red faced boy “ I mean that is ok with you bakugou seeing as though you two were most likely in a relationship by the messages before today “

“ you asshole did you go through me and my s/o’s messages “

“ judging by the series of recent text I don’t believe that’s the case for you two anymore “ he reached to grab his backpack saying a formal goodbye before he spoke “ I feel like i’m needed by a very —very perfectly intelligent unshitty person right now “

seros voice coming out softly as he let bakugous phone fall to the table disappointment in his eyes “ look uh —dude you didn’t have to mess your relationship up just to go against us ? “ he winced at the claim“ honestly you could’ve stayed quiet the whole time —it’s not like we agreed with you anyways “

bakugou leaned back in his chair anger swirling in his stomach as he felt his body sweat at the new heat spreading throughout his whole body.

How the hell did he mess up where the hell did he mess up he explained to you he wasn’t gonna treat you any differently than any other extra here and that went for basic conversations too

Maybe he went a bit far with the dont date em ‘ that was probably it you didn’t like how he said don’t date you because he was the only one who could handle you right ?

He shook his head a bit confused you just wanted him to say that you could handle yourself and didn’t need him right ?

So , why the hell did he feel like he’d done something wrong he wasn’t stupid but he just wasn’t well versed in feelings. He already didn’t know how to handle his own so how was he expected to handle another persons.

To him his words were normal he talked about all people like this hell, he bullied deku for 3 years going as far as to make a special nickname for him

that wasn’t even the worse he could’ve done and you knew that so why was he in trouble and worrying about Icy hot taking his place

He was honestly confused?

Could words really be that hurtful?

could his words really be that hurtful ?

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 297: We’re Bustin’ Outta This Joint

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi did his best to undo all of the good vibes from the Girl Power arc by killing off Midnight. It sucks and I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, Not Killing Off Your One Female Teacher Character With Any Character Development was worth 30% of his grade for the semester, so it brought his average down all the way to a C-, and so he and his report card will just have to live with that. Meanwhile Ochako did some rescuing, and the other U.A. kids lay around unconscious and/or traumatized. The chapter ended with an abrupt cut to Tartarus, where AFO is apparently just chilling and waiting for the Nearly High Ends to come bust him free. What kind of a cliffhanger is that to leave your fans hanging on for three whole weeks. Who’s suffering more here, the characters or the readers.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “okay I know you all want to know what happens to Deku and Shouto and the rest, but have you considered finding out what happens to Overhaul and Muscular and Moonfish and New Girl Character instead?” Fandom is all, “you had us at New Girl Character.” Seiji’s dad is all, “I’m just going to say a bunch of stuff to help make sure none of the readers feel conflicted about cheering on a bunch of mass murderers escaping from prison.” Tomura is all, “dammit AFO why are you still here.” AFO is all, “shhh, Tomura, go back to sleep.” Tomura is all, “wtf but you’re literally hijacking my body and continuing to shred it to bits while we break into BnHA Alcatraz to recruit your own personal Suicide Squad.” AFO is all, “:).” Real!AFO is all, “HERE I AM, EVERYONE, SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING.” And then the chapter ends. Geez.

oh shit lol it’s a whole big fucking page all about Tartarus

my very first thought was “that’s a long-ass fucking bridge”, and then I went to go google “longest bridges”, and Wikipedia was all “son there are literally a hundred and fifty bridges in the real world longer than 5km, and the longest one is actually 165km”, and I was all “oh shit I really don’t know jack shit about bridges.” then I looked at the list for a few more minutes and realized that the super-long bridges were all built over land, and that the longest bridge over water is only 38km. which is way more reasonable, but also still really fucking long though?? ngl I would freak the fuck out on that bridge. what does any of this have to do with Tartarus you ask?? absolutely nothing, I literally forgot I was reading a chapter for a sec lol uh

anyway, my parting thought on the bridge is that it kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a giant island fortress prison, but whatever. moving on

and the six levels thing is straight out of One Piece lol. something tells me BnHA’s prison break arc isn’t going to be quite as fun. hmm

so now we’re cutting to “the Bronze Gate”, which is the main entrance off of the bridge, and some goat-looking motherfucker is out here trying to become my new favorite character. bro

SON OF A BITCH WHAT’S WITH THE BULLETS FLYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE SHOOTING AT GYGES. THEY CAN’T KILL OFF MY FRESHEST HOMIE GYGES. SURELY THEY WOULDN’T

ooh and now, giant robots!

giant robots with machine guns. “I’m very sorry I killed off Midnight, makeste” you know what, fuck you Horikoshi. thinking you can buy my affections back so easily

does Gyges have six arms??? look how fucking calm he is announcing the code red security lockdown, holy shit. GYGES

NOOOO

NO NOT BRIAREUS. THIS DAY EXACTS A HEAVY TOLL

YO, WHAT

he came there himself?? so much for making the Noumus do his dirty work. and based on the speech bubble shape and font, this is still AFO talking

uh oh what’s happening

is he using Decay or is his arm just sort of crumbling to pieces because he hasn’t had time to heal up yet? if it’s the former this prison break is going to set a record for shortest arc yet isn’t it

now we’re cutting to B10 which is apparently the lowest level. but do they mean lowest as in the least security, or lowest as in the deepest underground, a.k.a. the most security? idk it’s confusing and I think they should be more specific. is it B like in basement?? are there six levels or ten?? stupid Tartarus

anyway so the guards are talking about how Gigantomachia is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. heh. will there even be a Tartarus tomorrow morning

(ETA: WELL, UH.)

wow they’re talking about just killing him outright. damn

I kinda feel like “prison guard” is one of those jobs that just sort of naturally attracts shitty people. anyways yeah, Seiji your dad is a real piece of work

and he’s even doubling down on it after the other guy repeatedly keeps trying to hush him up. dude we get it, you’re an asshole

ooh and now we’re getting an interesting look at the various prisoners, some of whom look suspiciously familiar!

for starters, that’s definitely Moonfish in the upper left corner, I’m like 99% sure. not quite clear who that is across from him in the upper right, but it’s been a hot minute since we saw Muscular, so maybe?

and could that be Overhaul in the panel beneath him?? they’re not showing his face so I assume it’s someone we’d recognize, and he’s the only currently-incarcerated villain with that haircut as far as I can recall. though it seems weird that he’s not restrained more given his quirk. I thought Horikoshi mentioned in Ultra Analysis that he’d gotten it back somehow. eh well we will wait for answers

I don’t recognize the person to his left either (though she has an oddly familiar look to her?). but the person on the bottom right, next to Kurogiri... is it Stain?? the hair and body language are sure giving off Stain vibes. if someone had told the me from two years ago that I’d actually be excited to see Stain again I would have said you were full of shit. and yet here we are. these sure are interesting times

anyway so now the Code Red intruder alarm is blaring. and I gotta say, that one scene sure was effective at killing any sympathy I might have been inclined to feel for these guards lol. bring on the imminent massacre

“what horrible timing” lol yes. it’s almost as if they planned it that way

uh oh

is he omae wa shindeiruing. watch your six, Mr. Prison Guard

oh shit

WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY. but nooo, you all were all, “but a bridge is more convenient!” VERY WELL THEN, LIE IN THE BED THAT YOU HAVE MADE

anyway so it’s the High Ends lol. I mean we already knew it was them. let’s just get on with it

omfg Tomura ARE YOU RIDING ONE

WHAT ARE YOU, A NAZGUL. WHY IS THIS MY FAVORITE THING

and it looks like it actually is Tomura again, too (as opposed to AFOmura)

-- is he using Decay on himself?? is that what it is?? or no wait, is this just more of the weird side effect shit that’s been happening since he Awakened. actually yeah never mind that’s clearly what it is

y’all this man is out here having a full blown argument with himself

so this is equal parts compelling and hilarious to me right now lol. like I feel so bad for Tomura, but I also lowkey want to see how far this escalates. like do you think he’d go as far as to punch himself in the face. where will this journey lead us

fucking look at this shit

other people have already mentioned this, but with this scene especially it makes me really curious how they’re going to show this in the anime. will it be AFO’s voice coming out of Tomura’s mouth? or Tomura’s voice using AFO’s speech patterns? more importantly, will it be cool and dramatic, or will it actually wind up being hilarious? or both?? never count out both

also he’s looking pretty good there in that bottom panel with his one eye just barely visible. that doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but here I am, pointing it out

also also, lol at Tomura being all, “the fuck do you mean, ‘rest’, you’re the one that dragged my body out here to raid a fucking prison,” and AFO being all, “oh yeah, lol, true true, but I meant rest after that.” yes, this man clearly has nothing but the purest intentions, Tomura. trustworthy af

this fucking guy. Tomura is your bullshit radar finally operational yet?? can you see yet that it was always his intention to use you right from the very start?? oh man I am starting to get fidgety now listening to this

so Tomura’s saying he doesn’t just want to be used as a chess piece. and AFO is all, “well okay but what if it’s a VERY NICE AND IMPORTANT chess piece.” bro DID HE STUTTER

-- AHH BUT NEVER MIND THAT, HERE IT IS, THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STARTS OMG

GO ON AND ACQUIRE THEM THEN! omg. why am I so fucking excited. it seriously makes no sense. like seriously, ‘hooray, our old buddies, Overhaul and Stain!!’ -- come again now?? who is this person that I have become

meanwhile AFO is making all this fuss and I really don’t understand it though

why would you need to plow directly through the building. why can’t you just use doors like a normal person. it’s not like they can lock you out, like hello, you can literally turn anything you touch into dust, what’s with all the melodrama

anyway so he’s apparently hitting the prison with some sort of EMP attack now and shutting down all their systems

omg the suspense is killing me. this is going to be so badass once it’s animated, but right now all I keep thinking is “YES, GREAT, CAN WE PLEASE JUST MOVE IT ALONG”

the doors are opening ahhhhhhh come on come on come on let’s go let’s get to the excitement already

now the guards are running over to try and regain control. but, like

yeah that’s pretty much how I’m expecting the rest of this to go basically

so now they’re shooting at the dust cloud lol. well if there’s one thing movies have taught me, it’s that bad guys who wait inside clouds of dust while panicked cops blindly rain bullets at them until they run out of ammo are basically invincible lol. soooooo

OHHHHH SHIT

AHAHAHAHAHAHA. THEY ARE SO FUCKED LOL, SHIT

YEP, AND HERE’S ANOTHER ONE

is this the first time we’ve seen Moonfish’s face? I feel like we might have caught a glimpse of it before on an omake page or something. either way, it wasn’t anything I actually needed to see again. thanks...?? I guess??

okay but seriously, are we supposed to actually know who this badass lady is?? like I don’t know her but I feel like I know her, you feel?

(ETA: lol there are already like 60 different theories about how she’s related to every single character in the series. will be interesting to see if anything comes of this. although we did just get three “this villain was secretly related to [insert character(s) here] all along” reveals just in the last arc, so idk, it might be better if we pass on it this time lol.)

girl who are you. please stick around. for the love of god don’t let this man kill you off too

????

wait so is this Overhaul? boy sure has seen better days huh. but the floppy sleeves... yeah, it’s gotta be him

anyway so then the only ones missing are Stain and Kurogiri, yes?? omg. and one page left to go

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS SHIT RIGHT FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. FUCKING TIME-BIDING DRAMA QUEEN

AND HE’S JUST FLOATING HIS LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ALONG BEHIND HIM SOB. THIS FUCKING GUY

AND IS HE JUST ABSENTMINDEDLY DRAGGING SOME POOR SCHLUB’S CORPSE ALONG BESIDE HIM LIKE A SLEEPY TODDLER CARRYING THEIR TEDDY BEAR. I FUCKING CAN’T. REST IN PEACE, FRIEND. GIVE MY REGARDS TO GOOD OLD BRIAREUS

so that’s it! and we still don’t have any idea what AFO is actually planning to do now, after all of that. are they going to merge bodies?? or is he going to try to switch with him?? either way Tomura’s body has to be part of the plan somehow since he keeps making so much of a fuss over it. flkhglkhlk. dammit I need answers lol

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[shroomcult]

@soulxmakaweek

Day 4: Apologize

I fell way behind with Soma week because I got slammed with work and this monster of a fic took me too long to write.

Summary: 

Maka comes to realize that Soul had never felt fully comfortable around Crona, and in ignoring this entirely - she unknowingly hurt her closest friend.

Special thanks to Tori @chichirichick (she betas all of my dumpster fires, bless her) for proofreading this mess of emotions and also to Zi @azroazizah for coming up with the concept for this fic. 

**Disclaimer** This story is not about putting blame on Crona, but instead about acknowledging the fact that Soul went through trauma due to their actions and it was never taken into consideration by Maka before inviting them into their friend group. I'm not saying Crona didn't deserve support, but it's also completely valid for Soul - a victim of Crona - to not feel entirely safe around them regardless of their tragic background and circumstances. If Crona is a big comfort character for you and you feel you would likely be upset by this concept, then I recommend not reading it altogether. We all interpret things different and we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I'm not going to get in arguments with people over this.

It’d been a while since the Spartoi team was all together again.

After the fall of Asura, they really had no purpose to join forces as a team. No big baddie to unite them in ass-kickery. 

The skies were blue again. There were still Kishin eggs to take down, and a shaky new diplomatic relationship with the witches to maintain as well. 

Things were more or less … normal. Boring, even.

The only big difference Blackstar could discern was that nobody seemed to have time to just hang out and be friends anymore.

Kid was over his head with his new responsibilities, and while he was doing an admirable job filling his father’s shoes; there was a steep learning curve and his perfectionist tendencies only made it more challenging to overcome. He upheld a calm and collected demeanor in the public’s eyes, but Liz and Patty spent most of their time holding him together behind the scenes. 

Soul and Maka were a different situation entirely.

It was odd enough to adjust to the recent change in the nature of their relationship. They claimed to be the same as they’ve always been - just Soul & Maka. Only, they grew much closer after the hardships they had endured both in the book of Eibon and on the moon.

They had been close to begin with, but this was a different kind of close. Stolen glances, hands reaching for each other when they thought nobody was looking. Blushing for almost no damn reason. 

Something was going on between them - he could be sure of that.

More recently, however, Maka had been particularly obsessive about solving the dilemma of Crona’s entrapment on the moon. She was driving herself to a slow-burning insanity, considering every moment that she hadn’t rescued them yet to be a personal failure.

She’d been spending much of her time in the restricted section of the library, consuming every piece of relevant research for hours on end. Soul often stayed up there with her doing the same, or at the very least keeping her silent company when he was too burnt out to read anymore.

He’d also spent much of his extra time with Stein, training to perfect his sound-wave abilities into his own form of wavelength attack.

He’d been giving his all ever since making deathscythe status to hone his strength and better serve Maka. He’d even been able to hold his own for a surprising amount of time in the sparring ring against Blackstar, and that was a feat in and of itself.

All of the focus on Crona’s rescue had appeared to be wearing on him, though. 

Soul may have accepted Crona into his friend group for Maka’s sake, even empathized with them - but he had never fully trusted the demon sword meister. Although Soul was outwardly friendly towards them, Blackstar noticed the way his friend had watched them like a hawk before they turned back to Medusa. He was always ready for a scenario like that because he had never felt entirely safe around them to begin with.

Not that Maka had bothered to even take Soul’s feelings into consideration before forgiving Crona on his behalf.

She couldn’t have possibly been that dense. She had to have been actively ignoring the signs of Soul’s discomfort because she couldn’t handle acknowledging them.

And now she was doing the same thing all over again even with Crona as far away as the moon. It was obvious that Soul was doing what he always did - shoving his own feelings aside in favor of Maka’s. The loyal mutt of a boy valued her wellbeing far above his own, that was for certain.

He just seemed so exhausted of it all now. Searching tirelessly with Maka for a solution that may not even exist took up much of his time and energy.  

He never had the time to shoot hoops or play video games like he used to, and Blackstar was far above begging for his attention. He stopped even bothering to ask him.

Just for one night though, by some divine luck - everybody was willing to clear their schedule to have a late night dinner at the most beloved and heart-attack inducing burger joint in town. 

Every member of Spartoi was crammed into the largest booth in the restaurant and their chatter was loud enough to fill the whole section. 

There were multiple conversations happening at a time, but Blackstar was zeroing in on Soul who had his chin resting on his palm and that stupid, dopey look he got on his face when he was proud of Maka. Yuck. Keep it in your pants, loverboy.

Maka was next to Soul, his arm stretched out behind her on the booth, while Ox engaged her in a fiery debate over god knows what across the table from her. Judging by the redness in baldy’s face - Maka was on the winning side. He really couldn’t understand Soul’s hard-on for a bossy know-it-all personality, but whatever floats his boat he supposed.  

He decided he’d seen enough of that look on his best friend’s face and crumpled up a straw wrapper, dipping it in his soda and sticking it at the end of his straw.

He blew on the other end, sending the sticky wad of paper flying across the table. The projectile hit its target directly on the cheek.

“Fuck’s sake dude, how old are you?” he grumbled, reaching over the table to grab a handful of napkins to clean his face off with.

Maka snatched some of his napkins for herself, rubbing it vigorously into the flecks of cola that stained her uniform. “You got my shirt all wet, idiot.”

Blackstar simply threw his head back to cackle obnoxiously. “I just thought I should break up your lame little debate team fight before Ox over here pops a blood vessel. You know he can’t handle losing well.”

“I wasn’t losing!” Ox hissed under his breath.

Maka only met her opponent’s glare with a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, Maka! What had you stopped to talk with Professor Stein about earlier today?” Tsubaki cut in, obviously attempting to diffuse another argument between the two competitive brainiacs.

Maka’s expression relaxed into something a little more neutral, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Debate-mode successfully disarmed.

“Oh. Well… I just had some questions about my black blood research for him.” 

Blackstar didn’t miss the way Soul tensed up beside her at the mention of black blood. His face was void of any distinct emotion, but something was off in his body language. The way his shoulders squared as if he were instinctively bristling.

Anyone with a shred of social awareness could have deduced that black blood, Medusa, and Crona were not Soul’s favorite topics. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut down and discontinue any contributions to a conversation when any of these things were brought up. 

Unfortunately for Soul, all of those subjects were constantly on Maka’s mind since she began her obsessive pursuit for a solution to Crona’s ordeal.

“Oh? And what did he have to say?” Tsubaki pressed, completely oblivious to the tense situation she was potentially triggering.

“As you’re already aware, there’s not really any official research on the black blood that exists. We’ve been digging through countless books - gathering as much information about madness and Kishins as we can, but it can only get us so far. It would be so much more useful if we could get our hands on a physical sample of the substance itself.”

Soul’s eyes widened in concern, but only for a second before he slipped his usual poker face back on. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously despite the veneer of calm he displayed.

“Anyways,” she continued, turning to look at Soul, “I was going to talk to you about this later, but maybe some of the black blood still remains in your system? I know we believed it was all gone, but surely there’s some residual amount of it lingering behind? Something we could maybe isolate, extract and create a concentrate of? Stein said it was unlikely, but technically possible. We have to try for Crona, right, Soul?”

He was no longer wearing his mask of apathy. Unmistakeable, visible discomfort was etched into his facial features and he was clenching his hands, knuckles whitening from the pressure. Everyone at the table was hushed and the tension was palpable.

“He doesn’t have to try anything,” Kid’s voice cut sharply through the silence, golden eyes flashing sternly at her.

A soft gasp escaped her and her eyebrows shot up, clearly taken-aback by the sudden burst of hostility from her boss and close friend. Her eyes darkened seconds later, determination setting in.

 “I think that’s his decision to make, and I’d like to hear what he has to say,” she turned her attention back to Soul, hope still shining in her eyes.

He fidgeted with his necktie, loosening it and clearing his throat. “Yeah, s’fine. Whatever you need, I guess.”

Maka’s face lit up into a bright smile that turned Blackstar’s stomach and she pulled Soul into a brief hug. “I knew we could count on you, Soul! You’re the best partner ever.”

“Whatever, it’s no problem. Just try not to drain me of all my blood, alright?” he chuckled weakly, avoiding her eyes in favor of staring a hole in the middle of the table.

She gave an easygoing laugh in response, and went back to conversing with Tsubaki as if she hadn’t just pressured her partner into volunteering himself as a guinea pig for the sake of someone who had literally sliced him open from shoulder to hip and infected him with black blood to begin with.

Is she fucking serious?

Blackstar was practically vibrating with fury from the interaction he’d just watched, and Tsubaki’s normally soothing hand on his shoulder did little to calm him down. When he glanced at Kid, he instantly knew the death god had shared his frustration with Maka’s obliviousness. 

It wasn’t long before Soul abruptly stood from his place at the end of the booth, pulling a twenty out of his wallet and placing it on the table in front of him.

“Soul? What are you doing? The food hasn’t even gotten here yet,” Maka blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m not feelin’ too great - gonna head out, sorry guys. Could you just bring my food back in a to-go box?” he said with an apologetic quirk of his lips. He squeezed her shoulder gently before turning on his heels and making his way out of the diner in long strides.

Why does she look so shocked? Does she really not understand that she’s been hurting him?

After that, the night passed by in a haze for Blackstar. He hardly spoke for the rest of the meal due to the fact that he was using all of his mental capacity to keep his impulse to stand up and loudly call his friend out in front of everybody in check. 

The only thing truly stopping him was the knowledge that Soul would likely be embarrassed and more than a little pissed off if he’d made a big scene over something that he wasn’t even willing to talk about.  

So he waited - held his tongue until he could lash out in private.

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Blackstar watched her rise from her seat gathering her to-go boxes carefully and giving him a nod of acknowledgement before she headed out.

His eyes bore into the back of her head as she left, and Tsubaki’s hand clamped gently on him for the second time that night. Her eyes were crinkled with a gentle concern.

“I think you should leave this between them. If Soul wanted all of this out in the open, he would have had that conversation with her himself.”

A heavy sigh settled in his chest, “You know how he is. He’s the suffer in silence type and he always does her bidding. If nobody says anything, then nothing’ll change. I just want to talk to her - not like I’m gonna beat her ass or anything … unless she gives me a reason to.” 

“Blackstar,” she chided, fully aware that he would make good on that threat.

“I know, I know. I won’t be long, see ya at home,” he said, throwing up placating hands before stuffing them in his pockets and striding in the direction Maka had gone. 

            _______________________________________________

Maka set her walk home at a leisurely pace, dragging her feet slightly as she watched the sunset bleed into the sky above.

It wasn’t that she was trying to prolong seeing Soul, or that she wasn’t worried about the way he’d acted back in the diner - like something was eating at him. 

She was pretty positive that he wasn’t physically ill, which only left the option of it being an emotional issue. 

And getting Soul to talk about emotional issues was like trying to pull teeth from a temperamental bear. 

She had to figure out a way to go about this delicately, and she had to figure it out soon because their apartment block was fast approaching.

She stopped in her tracks when she felt the presence of a familiar soul behind her. His steps had been so quiet, she wouldn’t have even been aware he was stalking her from behind if it weren’t for her exceptional soul perception abilities.

“I know you’re following me, Blackstar.”

In moments, he was stepping out in front of her. “Wasn’t trying to hide. I need to talk to you,” his voice was uncharacteristically stern.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew Blackstar had some kind of problem with her since dinner. He was deathly quiet and glowering at her for most of the night; very unusual behavior from someone who never shuts up or hesitates to start a fight. 

“Okay, I’m listening,” she said, already preparing to defend herself against whatever absurd argument he wanted to pull her into.

“The whole situation with Crona - have you ever once thought about how Soul feels about it?”

Whatever she had been expecting to come out of his mouth - that wasn’t it.

“What? I mean, I know how Soul feels. He wants Crona to be safe, just like I do. What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m not talking about what he thinks about Crona being stuck in the deathdamned moon, Maka! I mean have you ever thought about how he felt when you forced Crona into his life to begin with? After being sliced open?” 

Maka’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her mouth opened and closed a few times, baffled by the question. 

“Soul understands why I welcomed Crona as a friend. He trusts me,” she answered, hoping her voice conveyed the confidence that she couldn’t find in this moment.

This entire conversation was throwing her off.

“Yeah, okay. He accepted your decision because he trusts you, or loves you or whatever the fuck. We all know that - but that doesn’t mean he was comfortable with it. It doesn’t mean he felt safe. He just stuffed his own feelings down, because he knew it made it easier for you.”

Her throat tightened as her own conflicting emotions overcame her. He had no idea what he was talking about. Soul was fine. He’s always been fine. 

“Did he say that to you? That he didn’t feel safe?” she choked out. 

“Soul? You think he tells people things? About his feelings?” he snorted. “No, he doesn’t have to tell me shit. It’s clear on his face every time you mention Crona, or Medusa, or that fucking blood.”

“Maybe you’re just making assumptions about how he feels!” she shouted back, gripping handfuls of the front of his shirt.

He leaned in, completely unfazed by the rage burning in her eyes. “You ever noticed how when Crona was around, he was always watching them out of the corner of his eye - twitching every time they made some sudden move. You ever noticed how quiet and withdrawn he’d get around them? Or any time they were brought up? You didn’t - because you didn’t want to.” 

“Shut up! Y-you’re making something out of nothing. Are you trying to tell me that I should just give up and forget about Crona? That they don’t deserve to have a friend?” 

Some of his aggression was fizzling out as he released a heavy sigh, placing his hands calmly over hers, still clenching in his shirt. “I’m not trying to say that you shouldn’t have helped Crona, or that you shouldn’t keep trying to help them now. I’m only telling you that even if Soul has forgiven and moved on - he’s still a victim of Crona’s actions. He suffered trauma from that, even if he’s too fucking stubborn to admit it. Just acknowledge that maybe he needs a break from thinking about them - all of that shit that happened - every now and then. Get your head out of Crona’s ass long enough to check if he’s okay too.”

She stumbled over wordless sounds as her hands went limp and released their vice-grip on his clothing. She was trying desperately to think of a way to refute the awful things he was saying, but Blackstar wouldn’t give her the chance. 

“If you gave him even half the thought you gave to Crona - maybe you would have noticed it like everybody else has. I just want you to think about it for a bit, that’s all,” his voice softened towards the end, shoulders sagging slightly as he turned away, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of his confrontation.

The heat of tears prickled behind her eyelids and she clenched her fists tightly to her sides. 

She wanted so badly to swing around and scream at Blackstar’s retreating figure that he was wrong, that he had no idea what he was talking about and of course she thinks about her weapon.

But the longer she allowed his harsh words to sink in; the more she could feel the sting of truth settling into her heart.

Had she really been so blind? 

             _______________________________________________

Soul had been laying on his back in bed, hands resting on his stomach and eyes pointed at the ceiling, unmoving for some time. He wasn’t entirely sure how many hours, but he knew his playlist had ended long ago - no music played from the earbuds that were still jammed in his ears.

He couldn’t explain the heaviness in his heart. The anxiety that often set in whenever Maka mentioned Crona or the black blood. It was all water under the bridge, wasn’t it? There was no point in allowing himself to wallow in all the negative emotions that punched him in the gut at the mention of their name. It was selfish to feel those things - it was his job to give Maka his full support. His own feelings were irrelevant.

It was just harder on this particular night. Sure, she droned on about those sore subjects often. Their research revolved around it anyways. He’d just hoped that it could have been different just for one night.

He’d secretly been ecstatic when Maka begrudgingly agreed to shelve her research just long enough to get a late dinner with all of their friends. A break had been long overdue. 

Things had been different between them, after all. They’d been sharing a bed, and they’d even shared a few kisses in the small, rare moments that they’d spent alone together - focused only on each other. They were chaste kisses, but he’d greedily take whatever he could get. 

As she became more frantic about her lack of results in helping Crona, he may as well have not even existed to her. 

He’d just needed that one dinner to pretend things were normal, to pretend as though he was on a date with her and she was willing to spend time with him and think about literally anything aside from her latest fixations. Instead, she’d asked him to play part in some unsound experiment - to prod for things that he hadn’t wanted to find again. It had only been made more uncomfortable by the scrutinizing presence of all of their friends. 

He’d felt used.

Soul perked up at the familiar sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut. He was immediately ashamed of the pavlovian response he had to the sound of his meister returning - the little flip in his heart that made him feel like a stupid dog wagging its tail at the sound of its master.

Just keep to yourself. She doesn’t need to interact with you in this useless state of self pity. You don’t deserve her comfort.

Self-loathing curled in his gut and he kept his eyes stubbornly trained on a water stain in the ceiling.

Suddenly, light flooded into his dark room as his door was hesitantly opened. He reflexively brought himself to sit up on his elbows only to meet a teary-eyed Maka.

All self-indulgent angsty thoughts instantly evaporated from his head, and he was ripping his earbuds out and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to get up.

She made purposeful steps across his room, throwing her arms around his neck and forcing him back onto the bed with the motion.

“I’m so sorry, Soul,” she warbled mournfully into his sweater. 

“Huh? Sorry ‘bout what? What’s going on, Maka?” he tried to nudge her into looking up at him, but she adamantly refused.

She took a few shallow breaths before rubbing her wet cheek against the quickly-dampening fabric and looking up at him with dewy eyes.

“I haven’t been a good friend to you - have I? 

Was that a trick question?

“I-I don’t get what we’re talkin’ about here,” he stuttered uselessly, attempting to compensate for his lack of eloquence by brushing his fingers comfortingly through her soft hair.

“I never asked if you felt okay with Crona being around you. I never asked you if you forgave them at all - I just brought them into your space, your home. I just wanted them to have a chance at a normal life so badly - I ignored your pain, and I’m so sorry,” she rushed her confession out like it had been a breath she was holding in.

He had to fight the urge to bark out a laugh. It wasn’t that he found anything that she said humorous - it was just so strange that she was addressing this out of the blue. She’d seemed completely unaware as usual back at the diner, where had this even come from?

He was so lost in thought, he’d almost forgotten to respond and instantly regretted the prolonged silence he’d left her in. “Maka, it’s fine,” he insisted, “I get why you forgave Crona. I admire you for it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you were okay. I should have at least checked on you, or asked you about how you felt - or literally anything,’ she mumbled numbly from his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” he said, lifting her cheek from its resting place against his sweater, “Sure, I didn’t feel the most comfortable around Crona. I think it was pretty awkward for both of us to be near each other. That doesn’t mean I dislike them, or didn’t want you to be their friend. You can’t beat yourself up over something I hadn’t bothered to tell you.”

His words hadn’t brought the comfort that he’d hoped they would, and her brows remained stubbornly crinkled. “If it had been me - if I was the one who’d been cut by that sword, would you still say that you don’t dislike them? That you’re okay with us being friends?”

It was a question that he instantly knew the answer to, but he was reluctant to say it out loud. He finally caved, bringing his eyes back to hers, “No. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive them if it was you.”

She closed her eyes tightly, nodding her head in grim acceptance of that truth. She had likely known that would be his answer already, but hearing it must have been difficult.

“But I love that about you. You have so much compassion. I only care for the few people that I’ve decided I love - I don’t have room in my heart for others like you do. I’d like to be more like you,” he whispered reverently, taking her cheeks in both of his hands and briskly wiping away all of the moisture he could reach with his thumbs.

“I should’ve had more compassion for you,” she lamented softly under her breath, eyes downcast.

“You’re not a fuckin’ mind reader, Maks. It was my choice not to bring anything up.”

She nodded slowly, but the way her grip tightened on him only confirmed his suspicion that she wasn’t going to forgive herself for it.

Minutes passed before a word was spoken, but Soul eventually cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t expect you to ever stop being friends with Crona, or to give up on rescuing them. I don’t want that. I don’t mind helping you like you’d asked earlier tonight, too. If that’s what you need from me, then I’m here.”

She brought herself to her elbows on top of him to get a better view of his face.

“I know. I’m not going to give up on them. But It matters to me that you’re happy too, and if that means you need a break from all that, then I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for that.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said in a hushed tone, distracting himself with a piece of her hair twirled between his fingers.

“And I don’t want to use your blood for research. It was wrong of me to even think of asking you that. We’ll find another way,” she assured him, voice tightening with emotion, “I definitely got carried away with all of this. It wasn’t healthy, and I really am sorry I’ve pushed you away in the process. We can’t solve this thing if we don’t have time to properly take care of ourselves. You’ve been working so hard with me, and I think we need more actual quality time together.”

“Yeah, I could get on board with that. I kinda walked out on dinner tonight, so how about we do something - just you and me tomorrow? Movies sound good?”

“Movies sounds great,” she hummed in agreement, hands idly playing with his hair.

As much as he would have preferred for her to continue her ministrations, he stopped her movements to grasp her hand, bringing it to his chest to rest above where she knew his scar was. He pressed down on her hand lightly.

“I’m glad it happened. I’m glad they gutted me, ‘cause I hadn’t understood what you meant to me till that moment,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

She only exhaled shakily, hand tightening against the evidence of his devotion.

“I just hate that it took a lecture from Blackstar of all people for me to realize that I’d been hurting you.”

His eyes widened a little at that new piece of information. Blackstar was the one that brought all of this on her mind? He could’ve sworn it would have been Kid if anyone. He couldn’t help but feel a little touched that Blackstar had been so concerned about him, but he was also somewhat irritated that his friend had distressed Maka as much as he had.

“Blackstar, huh? Remind me to have a conversation with him about mindin’ his own business,” he laughed half-heartedly.

“No, don’t. I’m glad that he said what he did - I needed to hear it,” she urged him.

“Doesn’t matter. He didn’t have to make my girlfriend cry from guilt over bein’ friends with someone,” he muttered, but his face immediately burned a bright red as soon as he’d caught what he’d called her.

She was a similar shade, holding her breath as well as his gaze with a tortuously difficult to decipher expression on her face.

“That is, uh- I mean… fuck.”  

Very articulate. Great job, Soul.

He hadn’t needed to agonize over whether or not he’d just fucked everything between them for long because her face soon melted into a warm, genuine smile.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she said with a glimmer of mischief in her eye.

“I’d like that. If that’s w-what you want,” he wanted to kick himself for the voice crack he just experienced. Not cool in the slightest. 

At least she got a good giggle out of it. The melodic sound squeezed something in his chest and he swallowed nervously as a response.

She brushed back his bangs, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his forehead. She peppered a trail of kisses down his cheek until she reached his lips. 

This kiss was far from chaste. She cradled his cheek and jaw as she slanted her mouth sweetly over his, pressing fervently, constantly moving against him and eliciting a breathy moan from him that he would never admit to making. 

When she tried to separate, he followed her, bumping noses for a moment and giving the corner of her mouth a few more enthusiastic pecks before backing up and allowing her room to look at his face. 

“Girlfriend sounds nice, actually,” she smiled broadly, letting her fingers brush against the back of his neck.

“Glad that’s settled, then,” he laughed easily, not even bothering to feel any embarrassment over the flush of his skin or the lightness of his breath.

He crushed her to his chest, and they stayed like that for a while, just listening to the other’s loudly beating hearts until they were lulled to sleep. 

He’d have to thank Blackstar with a game of basketball later.

[literallythebiggestfuckingsimp]

SECRETS AND LIES

jj maybank x reader

( NOT MY GIF !!! credits to whoever made it ! )

Gentle fingers touch your sides, pulling you closer. You relax into the touch, knowing who it is. The warm breeze on your exposed midriff makes you shiver slightly, and you feel him wrap you up with his arms. You could’ve just told him that you weren’t really cold, but you were enjoying the touch of your best friend far too much for that — in fact, you were enjoying it a lot more than you should.

You can feel his skin against yours as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. Your good friend John B sits across from you both, telling some story you aren’t paying attention to. Kie is giving you a suggestive glance, noticing the way JJ is holding you, but you don’t see it. You‘re too busy wrapped up in his overwhelming presence, enjoying what little comfort you have now before you’d be forced to head back to an empty home.

“You good?” JJ speaks against your neck, and for a second you’re startled.

His breath feels warm, emitting goosebumps on your skin. You feel yourself nod half-heartedly. His head pulls back and he leans around to face you from where you’re sat in his lap. “Hey, what’s up? You can tell me.”

You sigh. “Nothin’, just thinking.” You don’t want to look at him because you know he already has that look on his face — the one that simultaneously makes you want to scream and yell at him whilst also wanting to come clean and cuddle up to him. It’s the one that reads ‘bullshit’, the one that makes you feel safe in the way that you could reveal all your secrets and he’d make everything okay again by just being there. You don’t look at him because you know that if you did you’d give in. But you can’t give in. You can’t.

“Really, I’m fine,” you stress.

He knows it’s a lie and so do you. But you can’t tell the truth, because you know it would break him. You can’t tell anyone. Not yet.

“Y/N, you know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” he asks, and you want to jump off the HMS Pogue and swim away.

Your friends aren’t watching you and JJ talk, having sensed something was up and moved away to give you guys some space.

“Pffft,” you wave him off. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are,” JJ argues. “Everyone has a tell.”

You scrunch your nose up and turn to face him. You think you can look at him now because he’s just handed you the perfect opportunity to change the subject. This way, you don’t have to confront your issues.

“Okay, then what’s mine?” You want to hit yourself for the obvious attempt, because given a clearer headspace, you think you could’ve done it much smoother, in a way that would rouse up a lot less suspicion. JJ knows you inside and out.

He rolls his eyes. “Great way to change the subject,” he comments dryly. “Also, if I told you then you’re just gonna try your hardest to stop doing it and then I won’t be able to tell when you’re lying anymore.”

“I think you’re wrong,” you speak up, turning away from him. JJ frowns. “I don’t have a tell, you just think I’m hiding something and want to get it out of me.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Maybe,” he shrugs. “Or maybe I just know you well enough to be able to tell when you’re lying. Maybe I also know you well enough to know that you’re trying to change the subject right now. But you know me well enough to know that I’m not gonna stop trying to get it out of you, dumbass.”

“Don’t insult me,” you snap playfully, hitting his arm. He doesn’t join in with your light teasing like he normally would, though. There’s still a frown etched upon his lips as he looks at you, and you feel stuck. You know there’s no way to get out of it now. Maybe you could just come up with something, a quick lie to convince him that everything’s fine. Or maybe you could come clean, tell him— No! You couldn’t do that. You don’t want to do that, because that means that you’d have to face the truth, too.

“Come on, Y/N.” He’s pleading now. You cant bring yourself to look away from his face, but you know that you have to. You have to look away or else you’ll get absorbed in that look, and you’ll spill everything. “Just tell me.” Three. For a second you thought he was actually going to say please, but you know he wouldn’t. JJ Maybank is too prideful to use the word please. “Whatever it is cant be that bad.” Two. Just look away, Y/N! You can do this. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets.” He says it likes it’s a joke, but you know it’s not. He’s trying to guilt-trip you, and it’s working. Oh, it’s working alright. But you won’t give in. One.

You’ve done it! You’ve looked away!

But you can’t bring yourself to feel proud that you resisted the boy who stole your heart when you were just thirteen. You didn’t know it then, of course, but you think you’ve always liked him as more than a friend. With you and JJ there was always just that little bit more.

Guilt embeds itself in your stomach, weighing you down. It all feels so stupid, keeping secrets from your best friend. But you’re defence mechanism has always been ignorance. Forever the procrastinator.

“I told you, Jay,” you say firmly. You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, and so is he. You expected it to crack and shake but you were glad it didn’t. “I’m fine. Nothing’s going on.”

JJ inches away from you slightly. It’s a small action, barely noticeable, but not to you. To you it makes all the difference of a global pandemic. You feel the hurt with a pang in your chest, but you don’t let yourself feel it too much. You deserved it, you know you did. You deserve that little bit of rejection and hurt and you deserve more — worse.

You’re keeping a secret from your friends because you’re too weak to face the truth. You hate yourself for it, but at the end of the day, that’s just who you are. Someone who relishes in the bliss fitfulness of teetering upon the line of nothing and everything. Someone who keeps their problems to themself and, even when at the verge of breaking, conjures up the brightest smile to give to their friends. You’re someone who’d run away from their problems instead of sitting down and sorting that shit out.

You wish you weren’t that person, but you are.

“Yeah? ‘Cause it sure doesn’t look like it,” JJ says. You think you hear a tinge of anger to his tone, though you know he’s tried to keep it at bay for you. You don’t deserve that — you don’t deserve him, and you know it.

You don’t answer him. You just turn away. “I should probably head home now, anyway,” you say, your voice so quiet and muffled that you’re surprised he even heard you, but he did. He always has done.

You hear him scoff and walk away, and you know you’ve blown it this time. There’s no way you can make things up to him without coming clean, but there’s no way you could do that, either.

Footsteps pad along the floor of the small boat and someone sits down next to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You don’t look to see who it is, just continue to stare out into the water, tears threatening to break free.

“You okay?” You’re not surprised to hear the familiar voice of John B, but you didn’t really expect him. You thought it might be Kie, but she’s probably better off trying to get JJ out of the mood he’ll be in after your little disagreement.

“Fine,” you mumble back. You know he doesn’t buy it because, come on, who are you trying to kid? It was a half-assed condolence and you know it. John B leans closer to you for a second, giving you a quick side-hug.

“We’ll head back now, drop you off,” he says. You nod, mumbling a small “‘kay, thanks.” That’s all. He gets up and walks away, and you can feel the worried stares of your friends on your back.

This wasn’t how you wanted to spend the rest of the time you had left with your friends. This wasn’t how it should be happening. It’s not fair. None of it is. In fact, the whole situation is bullshit. Maybe you can find a way to fix it before your time is up, and then everything will be okay again.

You’re not unaware of the muffled voices behind you, whispering harshly to each other. You choose to ignore it.

“What’d you do to her, man?” John B says. JJ frowns at him.

“I didn’t do anything!” he argues, and Kiara gives him a deadpan look.

“You’re an asshole and an idiot, of course you did something,” she states matter-of-factly, malice lacing her tone. JJ glares at her.

“I’m serious,” he says. “I didn’t do shit. She was just acting off and I asked her what was wrong and she started getting all pissy at me. She’s been acting off for weeks now. I know I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

“She has?” John B asks. He seems surprised by the fact that everyone nodded along to JJ’s words and he hadn’t noticed a single thing wrong until today.

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Oh, my god, you’re stupid.”

“Dude, she’s literally been acting weird for, like, two weeks, now,” Pope says. John B’s eyebrows furrow.

John B mutters a small, “oh.”

“Don’t worry, man. It’s not your fault. You’ve probably been so busy macking Sarah that you’ve forgotten how to function,” JJ snickers. “Ooooh! John B! Yes, right there!” he mocks. John B goes red.

“You’re disgusting,” Kiara states with a look on her face. JJ shrugs and winks at her.

—

A loud knock disturbs your thoughts. You’ve been sat in bed, trying to get to sleep for hours now, but to no avail. The knocking comes again, and you get up, sighing. It’s not like you were getting much sleep anyway.

“Hello—?“ you start at you open the door, revealing a distressed looking JJ. “JJ? What are you doing here?”

He ignores you, barging past and running his fingers through his hair. You’re not sure what’s got him in such a state, but the argument from before is forgotten to you as you grab his arm.

“Jay?” you ask. His eyes snap to meet yours in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“May’s dead.” You feel the colour leaving your face, the breath being sucked out of you. How did he know? How could he have know? You suppose it was only really a matter of time. It’s a small island, news travels fast.

“May’s dead, and you didn’t tell me.” You want to cry, scream, anything, but all you can do is stand there, mouth agape. “And now you’re leaving. And you didn’t tell me any of it. Nothing, Y/N. Why? Why the hell didn’t you trust me, your best friend, enough to tell me that you were going away and I’d never get see you again!?”

He’s shouting now, demanding answers. He knows everything and you feel woozy. Now that it’s out, you’re gonna have to face it. But you didn’t want to face it. You didn’t want to face the fact that your aunt died and it was your fault, and now you were being moved away and you would never get to see your friends— your family, again.

“Jay, I- I didn’t mean to keep it from you, I just—“ You break off your sentence with a gulp, seeing your vision blurred with tears and the familiar lump in your throat that meant you were close to breaking down. “I don’t want to go. I dont want to. It’s my fault May’s dead, mine. And now I’m leaving but I don’t want to. I don’t want to— I don’t—“

The air in the room in getting thinner and it’s getting harder and harder to breath with every second that’s passing. You feel hands on your face, caressing your cheek. You can see the minimal movement of his lips, talking to you, but you can’t hear him. Everything’s blurry. Everything’s quiet. When did the room start spinning? You don’t know.

You’re thinking about the car again. About how May lost control when she came to pick you up from the kegger on the beach. You were wasted, and you called her for a ride. And then she died. And it was all your fault.

Hands shake you, but not more than the sobs that rack your body.

You feel the hands hold your cheeks and move your head to look in front of you, but you’re still not seeing anything except the consistent blur. You blink, closing your eyes.

There are two hands in front of your face, and you hear the faint sounds of counting.

He’s counting his fingers, you realise, and telling you to count with him. You’re starting to gather your bearings as you do. Your panic is fading but heaviness in your heart never, for a second, eases.

You see JJ now, as he is, with his blond hair messy on his head and his eyes blue with worry. You don’t waste another second, fists gripping onto the fabric of his shirt, wrapping our arms around him and burying your face in his neck. He holds you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

That’s what it’s like for the rest of the night. It’s just you and him, basking in the comfortable silence of being in each others presence during this time of need.

It’s the next day when he asks again. “Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s an edge of vulnerability to his voice. You know he’s hurt because you never keep secrets from him, and you know you never should, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“I ... I guess I thought that maybe if i just ignored it, it would go away,” you admit, looking down. “I’m sorry.”

His hands fiddly with your hair, something he likes to do often, and he stays quiet for a moment. “You can trust me with anything, you know.”

A small smile creeps across your lips amongst all the heartbreak and loss in the room. “I know,” you say. Your voice is almost a whisper but you know JJ heard you.

“I’m not just gonna let you up and run, you know,” he says.

“I don’t want to, but they’re moving me. They think I’m staying with May’s boyfriend, but he dipped right after the— the accident. I’ve got a week, more or less.”

“We’ll find a way,” JJ promises. You nod. “But just in case we don’t ... “

You look up to him, confused. He takes a breath, his eyes searching yours. You don’t notice them flicker to your lips. “What—“ He cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours. You freeze. Taking that as a sign of rejection, JJ pulls away. His cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen JJ blush — not in recent years, at least.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so so sorry, Y/N. I just thought — shit, I don’t know what I thought. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

This time, you’re the one who cuts him off. Your lips move hungrily against his, the feelings you’ve pushed off for so long coming free into your kiss. His eyes widen, and before you know it, he’s kissing you back, smiling against your lips.

You sit on your bed, eyes bloodshot, skin flushed and blotchy, all with crying. Your hair’s a mess, and you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts with a pair of pyjama shorts.

But in this moment, you don’t care, because you’re kissing your best friend, and he’s kissing you back, and all your problems are forgotten in the moment. And you know that you’ll figure something out, because there’s no way you’re going to leave him. Not now, not ever. You wouldn’t have dreamt of it before, but you had given up, and now he’s given you hope. You won’t leave your family behind.

And from now on, no more secrets and lies.

a/n: idk wtf i was thinking when i wrote this but eh. also i’m a wattpad writer so i like suck at using tumblr ?? like idek what happened to the layout lmao. nonetheless, i hoped whatever poor soul has read this enjoyed it.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 99

Here we have the aftermath of the Warlord Bowl. 

Here, we finally... FINALLY get to see Jokul as a person and not a far-off mysterious bad guy. Consciously, there was never any intent to compare Jokul to people who don’t understand how politics work: @zommbiebro​ isn’t even American, for one thing, and therefore neither is Jokul. However, reading it on the last pass before posting, I realized how it could be taken.

The part that isn’t relevant to the chapter: While I didn’t mean that comparison, please make sure you vote in any local elections available to you, if it doesn’t risk your life. No matter how much you feel your vote doesn’t matter, it does. If everyone who didn’t vote decided to do so, it would change the world.

In my own country, I’ll be taking time off work - because I have that ability - and taking local people to polls that ordinarily would be inaccessible to them within their district.

Back to the chapter relevant stuff: Thank you to @zommbiebro​ for giving me such a good character to play with, @charlylimph-blog​ for reading to ensure entertainment, and @baelpenrose​ for beta reading in every way that entails.

After a quick dinner at the first mess we came across - and true to my promise, I didn’t cook anything - Arthur, Antoine and I reconvened with Jokul in my office. As agreed, he brought only two of his own people, who sat on either side of him in a mirror to how I was bracketed by my own friends.

Unfortunately, they entered as I was mulling out loud the possibility of making hot pot for family dinner one night.  Even less fortunately, the ginger who I had thrown in the gym was one of the people who walked through my door while I was debating the logistics of meat versus vegetarian options.

“She doesn’t even take us seriously!” the nasal voice complained, interrupting me.

Simultaneously, several things happened. I opened my mouth to retort, Arthur put a hand over my mouth, Antoine pushed my shoulder back into the chair.

And Jokul spoke up.

“We agreed to meet with them if Farro beat me in combat.  He did, we are here, and there will be no further argument on the matter.” If anything, he sounded weary rather than angry. “She did not even request that we cease acting against her, only that we meet as equals. It is the least we can do.”

I didn’t even know forehead cramps were a thing until I gave myself one with the speed of my eyes widening. Slowly, Arthur lowered his hand so I could speak. “Right,” I coughed. “So, there are a few things I want to know.”

“Such as?” 

“Why am I your target?” I blurted out. Of everything, this was the one that was weighing heaviest on me. I felt if I could understand that, I would know how to tackle the rest. 

To my frustration, he fucking shrugged. “You are emblematic of everything that will destroy our chance at a new start,” he stated calmly, like he was telling me his name.

I sputtered before regaining my composure. “How? How am I doing something badly?”

“You only want to consolidate power, rule over the masses!” the red-haired toady honked at me.

The overblown statement and Jokul’s subsequent glare at his own man was a level of ridiculous I couldn’t handle at that moment.  Laughing ruefully, I wiped away a tear that warned me I was close to hysterical. “I don’t want to rule over anyone, dude.  If I had my preference, I would only decide what I want to eat once or twice  a week for the rest of my life.”

“But you rule over the Council,” Jokul pointed out in a confused tone.

“I don’t rule anyone, buddy. I am on the Council largely against my will, and mostly because no one else who is qualified even wants my job. Trust me, I’ve tried.” Gods had I tried.

His next statement was significantly less confident. “But you took the reins of power…”

“I am a glorified event coordinator and human resources officer. I have a staff of exactly two. One is my sister, who has been in her role longer than I’ve been in mine and only listens to me when it’s convenient. The other is my assistant, who is British as hell and listens to me on about equal level with my cat.”

“The Baconists! Your assistant was part of that rebellion! You must have known and hidden it from our hosts!” I had to give him some begrudging credit. Even he didn’t sound like he believed his own words, and if the smug look from Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber on either side of him was anything to go by, that wasn’t his own theory.

Time to set the record straight, it seemed. “Okay, quick reminder: that bitch tried to kill me,” I enunciated carefully, leaning forward as I spoke.  “She nearly succeeded. That wasn’t a cover up, it was her realizing that I talk to myself in the shower and listening long enough to hear me think through what was going on. As far as hiding her intent from our hosts… You’re only half right. Miys doesn’t read minds, contrary to what people think, they only read intent. That nutjob really did think she was doing the best thing for the universe by wiping humanity off the proverbial map. Nothing for Miys to pick up, she actually had what she thought were good intentions.”

“You have built yourself to be this legendary hero -”

“I didn’t build myself to be jack. Effing. Shit. If I had my preference, I would give you my position, and open a restaurant that does cooking classes.” When he opened his mouth to interject, I held up a hand to stop him. “Miys likes me because I talk to myself, even in my head, and so badly that they can still hear what I am saying when I don’t move my lips. I only survived being attacked by a crazy person because I treat the person who saved me like, you know, a person? Make sure he’s okay, give him his space when he wants it, sass him back when he wants to be sassy. It was just sheer, dumb luck, and I’m not even sure it was good luck, because voila!” I flung my hands wide at the current situation, forcing both Arthur and Antoine to duck. A quick glance at Antoine only rendered one of his eloquent shrugs. Must be handling the situation okay if he doesn’t think I need help.

I was less concerned with Arthur’s opinion, not because I didn’t care, but because I knew he would jump in when he felt it was needed, without prompting or permission.

“So you do not want to rule over us all?” Jokul asked carefully.

“I don’t even want to top one of my boyfriends consistently.”

“Sophia!” Antoine hissed with a miserable expression, while Arthur burst into a coughing fit. I wasn’t sure if the latter was trying to cover a laugh of choking. 

Jokul, on the other hand, seemed to take that at face value  “Then why are you in power? Explain that.”

With a heavy sigh, I tried again. “I’m not in power. Decisions are voted on by the Council. If someone brings me an idea for a class, or an architectural project, or a medical possibility, I pass it off to the Councilor who handles that and let it go from there.” Emphatically, I pointed at my own face. “Again, glorified events coordinator and HR.”

“And yet, you have your pet warlord sitting beside you. Explain that away,”Tweedledumb - the brunette on Jokul’s other side - accused.

I whipped my head to look at the subject of that statement before looking back across the table. “Arthur?” I asked, jerking a thumb in his general direction. “You do realize he’s a teacher first, right? Warlord out of need, but that ‘need’ was protecting the students in his history class when everything went to shit? Don’t get me wrong, we butted heads like you would not believe when we first met in person. But we realized halfway through what looked to be one hell of an argument that we knew each other for - fuck, like, a decade? Maybe less? - before the End. I didn’t ‘win him over.’ We just realized we’ve always been friends.” With a shrug I glanced back at Arthur, who also shrugged before nodding.

“Too convenient, Councilor.” Tweedledumb gloated. “You just happened to be friends with someone who - “

“Oh for FUCK’s sake!” Annnnd there it was.  Someone had reached his limit for diplomacy and stupidity. “We met on a fanfiction site writing a crossover of two of the worst pieces of science fiction ever written and mutually infected each other! FUCK!” Crossing his arms, he started muttering to himself. “Not like finding someone to kick your asses is hard…”

After a glare at the darker-haired idiot, and with an expression that looked like he was entirely regretting his choice of people for this meeting, Jokul schooled his features before addressing me directly. “Fanfiction?” he asked in a skeptical tone.

And the dirty truth comes out, I thought with another sigh. “StarDoc and Warhammer 40K, okay? It was fun, no fandom to cheese off, nothing smutty. Just… fun.” When the nostalgia threatened to overtake me, I shook my head vigorously. “The point is, we knew each other for years Before the world went to shit, and only realized when one of my friends landed in his class and there was a data error.  I don’t even like violence.” Antoine gave me a skeptical look so I clarified. “Usually.”

“And yet you are a combatant!” Jokul stated with certainty, clearly on more familiar ground.

Angrily, I scowled at Tweedle-the-ginger before leaning forward to look into Jokul’s eyes. “Look. I don’t know how it was in Canada, with your mooses and shit, but I really, really want to know: Do you honestly believe that anyone who got through the After did it without learning how to defend themselves? Even more, that any woman who made it, didn’t learn to fight dirty?”

“Not if you know how to have people defend you - “ Jokul tried before I cut him off.

“They don’t defend me because I’m helpless, let’s be clear. They defend me because I will only fight back if I know my life is on the line. But, on the same page, I will protect my friends and family from anything, without reserve, and die for them. No hesitation.” With a deep breath, I sat back rather than jumping over the table.  “I have my flaws, and my sister will tell you the biggest among those is that I trust too easily.  I assume the best in, literally, everyone.”

“Except smartass teacher, apparently,” Arthur said in a fake cough that fooled exactly nobody.

After making a face at my friend, I turned back to the moose in the room. “What that means is, I don’t try to defend myself until it is literally your life or mine. Or both. I don’t really care at that point, because I assume I’m not going to make it. I just want the person I’m fighting to go down with me.” Trying to imitate Charly’s most savage grin, I put on a forced-cheerful tone. “Now, tell me, Jokul. Who would rather have faced in that fight, knowing that?”

His eyes darted between Arthur and myself as he swallowed hard, mulling the implications of that. “You would kill and die for your friends’ safety and health, even if you would only protect yourself at the last moment?” Here, he scoffed. “There is nothing exceptional or even special about that. Many who were in power in the After felt the same.”

“Except I don’t want power,” I repeated in a tone that I previously reserved only for small children. “I just told you that.” In the corners of my eyes, I saw both of my friends nodding so hard I was concerned for their spines.

Before I could try to reason with Jokul any more, Arthur jumped in. “If you’re both done arguing righteousness, let me explain a few things. Jokull. First off, Soph actually doesn’t want to rule, or be on the Council. She told you this. She’s also bitched about it to me, her sister, and anyone else who will listen, at length. On top of being too trusting, her biggest flaw is actually an impulsivity problem, in general. But she’s not an autocrat.” As he gestured, I saw his eyes glaze over, his voice taking on a serene tone that was entirely too familiar. “If Soph was a real autocrat, she’d have let us have our little duel armed, with my sword and - I presume you’d have had an ax? Maybe a broadsword? You look like a broadsword guy... any rate.”

“However,” he continued, leaning forward with a thoughtful expression, like he was puzzling something out. “she made me promise not to kill you. Think about that. After you’ve been nothing but a headache and a threat to her and her family for months, she makes me promise not to kill you. I wanted to, you know.” The wistful sigh that accompanied that statement was entirely unnecessary and I was certain he only did it to irritate me.  “I wanted to kill you and have your lifeless corpse thrown out of the airlock like trash, not because of the Council, not because your Viking gimmick wears out in a hurry, but because you made the mistake of threatening a friend, then slapping a student. I had no idea if you were actually going to seriously harm any of them, and I didn’t care. The threat alone was enough to make me decide I wanted you dead.” Tapping his chin briefly, he pointed at Jokul without actually looking at him. “Because you were an unknown quantity, but no matter whether or not you were actually the threat you claimed to be, your corpse would be harmless.”

Arthur shrugged before looking Jokul in the face. “That’s how warlords handled things in the After, isn’t it? When someone threatened your people, or when someone threatened mine? I didn’t negotiate. I didn’t warn. I doubt you did, either. I took them at their word, and I did unto them first. And I’d bet you did the same. ‘Peace’ was what you called it when everyone who wanted to make war on you or your people was dead. That’s what the After taught me, that’s what it taught you.” After emphasizing his point by gesturing between the two of them, he shook his head.  “And that impulse, that set of lessons? That's not what humanity needs right now. Our skill set as leaders is not what humanity needs right now. If you want humanity to have a fresh start as you claim, drop the hostility, drop the self-righteousness, and actually try listening. Do you want a genuine peace with the Council?” Thoughtfully, he stroked the hilt of his sword where it laid across his lap. 

I knew it was the fondness of being reunited with a long lost limb, but Jokul didn’t know that. 

“Or a warlord’s peace with me?” In a creepy way, Arthur’s tone was downright perky. “I prefer a genuine one. A warlord’s idea of peace is one of the things I want to leave in the ashes of the After. That’s why it’s the Council who make the rules here - not warlords.”

With an alarmed expression, Jokul very slowly glanced at me. “Did he just threaten to kill me and shove me out an airlock?”

“No, he’s pouting because I wouldn’t let him do that,” I answered honestly.  The topic had come up, for a solid fifteen seconds.  I was even reasonably sure Arthur had been joking.

“I don’t - “ Arthur started  indignantly before being cut off by Jokul.

“He makes a good point. Our skills as warlords are not what is needed in this new world. I let myself believe people who told me that the Council in general and you specifically wanted to hoard power and privilege over us, just like the people who led Earth to where it ended up.” He glanced nervously at Arthur, who was still stroking his sword, before forging ahead in a somewhat squeakier tone. “If someone who has had real power agrees that you and the Council are the best option, then I will at least try to see how that would work.”

Here, Antoine joined the conversation. “Militant strength and ruling by force aren’t the only forms of power. We do not want that sort of power over us anymore. The Council leads because the people on this ship largely want to follow them.  That is the kind of power no one can force.  It has to be earned.”

“But the Council still makes decisions without our will - “

Shaking my head, I angrily flicked open my datapad and shot a file to him like I was thumping off an insect. “No, Bjornson, we don’t.  I was elected to my position - without my knowledge, might I add - by the people I represent to the Council. Every decision we make, the people on this ship get a vote with the exception of an emergency like what happened on Level One.  There wasn’t time to have a vote on how to handle that.”

“Although, we have had a lot of emergencies lately, so I understand the confusion,” Arthur interjected.

Is this what hallucinations feel like? I wondered. There was no way in frozen hell Arthur just made a point in Jokul’s favor, but the calm, resigned look on his face told me that, at some point, he seemed to have made peace with having to treat Jokul Bjornson as a sentient being. I was going to pass out if I kept sighing, though. “Okay, true. But everything else - Insert Winter Holiday, the swimming area, the diving docks, food festivals, permanent low stimulation areas throughout the ship, Galactic Core education - those were voted on by the people on this ship, with an overwhelming majority in favor.”

“What about the alarms?” Jokul pointed to his own head for emphasis.

“Also voted on, believe it or not,” I confirmed. “ And most of the ship agreed that there was more benefit in not running into people who would react badly to unexpected touch than there was discomfort at the alarms going off.”

“I tested them myself, monsieur.” Antoine offered. “So I am well acquainted with the volume they are calibrated for, and I do not appreciate you disabling them.  My staff have had to work around the clock to treat the damage your people have caused to others on this ship, who are terrified to leave their quarters now.”

Jokul looked a bit guilty at that, as well as his entourage.  Looked like he hadn’t considered that. “Would you believe me if I told you that was originally an accident?” he admitted sheepishly.  “One of the engineers thought it would be funny to shock another one in the neck with a low level electrical current, right behind the ear.” He turned his head and pointed to a small burn scar in the same place. “It took days for them to notice that the proximity alarm didn’t work anymore.”

To my shock, Antoine started swearing angrily in French, so fast even the translator couldn’t keep up. “Sophia, if I find out Charly Harper is the cause of this…”

Jokul shook his head vigorously. “I can assure you it was not Miss Harper.” His focus slid over to me, eyes wide.

Either this motherfucker just lied to keep Charly out of trouble, or she really was innocent.

“That explains why Derek and Zach couldn’t figure out how they did it,” Arthur pointed out. “You can’t hack into something that’s shorted out.”

Jokul spoke up again. “It also… may? Have caused some translation inconsistencies?”

“So the shock corrupted more files than just the alarms,” I stated in clarification.

“Several, in fact, yes…. Specifically signed languages and tonal languages.”

“That’s… that’s at least a third of the ship…” I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to sob in horror or laugh hysterically.

Jokul groaned before cradling his head in his hands. “I am aware, yes.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[missanthropicprinciple]

10 for the NSFW Dialogue prompts for whichever ship youre currently obsessed with

Thanks! I wasn’t sure which prompt list you meant so I took 10 from both of the last two n/sfw prompt lists I reblogged (this one and this one). Current and eternal ship is Newmann. 

10) for an argument to turn into sex + 10) “Christ, put some clothes on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And what am I supposed to do?!” Hermann yelled at Newt as the smaller man rummaged through his drawers, forcefully throwing socks and underwear into his suitcase. 

“Look, I thought you’d LOVE to get rid of me for a fuckin’ week, dude!” 

“I do! But for God’s sake you didn’t even tell me you were going!” 

“Why do you even care?! You only bitch at me when I am around,” Newt said, raising his voice and slamming a drawer shut. 

“I care because - well, well for...I can’t handle everything on my own here!” 

“Ok that’s just stupid! You handle everything without me around. All you ever tell me is how I’m under your feet and I destroy the lab and I take your pencils!” 

“Because you do!” 

“Yeah, so!?” Newt spluttered, pinching his nose bridge. “That’s! That’s what I’m saying! Why the fuck would you care if I make so much trouble?! I don’t even help you with anything. Pentecost likes you better anyway, he trusts your ideas. You can give him what he needs. I can’t. Sure, I’m off doing research but that’s it. He doesn’t trust me and neither do you.” 

Hermann sighed in exasperation and rubbed his temple. Newt started stripping off to change as he had to get to the airport in the next hour. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“I gotta change! We can keep on arguing when I’m getting ready.” 

Newt had gotten down to his boxers. 

“Christ, put some clothes on!” 

“Ok, but I tell you what, Doctor, you’re just gonna have to deal with me being gone. You can have the place to yourself. I’m sure nothing will come up.” 

“You’re so bloody thick sometimes, Newton.” 

“Am I supposed to read your mind?! Like, what the hell do you want from me, man?!” 

Hermann swallowed thickly as he tried not to stare at Newt’s muscular, slightly hairy thighs. 

“Wanna use me as a punching bag? Or something else?” Newt’s expression changed slightly and he lowered his voice. “Oh, I know what it is.” 

Hermann looked almost frightened. 

“You don’t want to admit that you actually need me around here. Despite all the crap you give me about me and my work, you actually need me.” 

Hermann exhaled, somewhat in relief and somewhat in frustration. 

“I do...yes, alright, I do need you but...good lord this is not easy for me to say.” 

Newt stood painfully still, half naked before his lab mate and rival, his tattoos splashed across his body and his nipples hard. 

“I...I am attracted to you, you, you, infuriating man!” 

“Well, that changes the conversation real quick,” Newt said, staring wide-eyed at the taller man. “Ok, well I’m still pissed at you.” 

“And I’m still angry with you!” 

Newt looked at his watch. 

“Ok, lets make this quick.” Newt closed the door and put his hands on Hermann’s chest. The latter blushes. 

“What?” 

“Come on, let’s have sex real quick. I gotta go the airport. And then we can finish this when I get back.” 

“Newton, I...” 

“You don’t have to, but...” Newt swallowed, suddenly a bit nervous. 

Neither remembered the moment their lips touched but they remember the passion of their first embraced for the rest of their days - the breathlessness, the desperate touches. Hermann’s fingers were in Newt’s hair. Newton started pulling his lab mate’s clothing off. Hermann dared to slip his fingers in the band of Newton’s boxers, slipping them off and feeling Newt’s soft, warm bum. With shaking breath he felt Newt leading him to the bed. 

“What do you like? What can I do?” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever asked me that before,” Hermann said, looking into the biologist’s eyes. 

“Maybe we can change that.” 

Newt gently pulled Hermann onto the bed with him. 

“You have to ask me,” Newt whispered. 

“May I...may I..” 

“Say it.” 

“May I fuck you?” Hermann said this so softly. 

“Hell yeah. Condom’s in the drawer.” 

Hermann scrambled for the nightstand and got out a cracklesome square, gently opened it and got to work.

“Oh my God, you are so efficient dude. Also very hard.” 

“Been a while.” 

“I got you.” 

Newt sucked the man’s fingers sloppily and guided Hermann to his entrance. 

“This is gonna make me so chill for the flight, dude,” Newt said, laughing in a daze as Hermann fucked him with his long, bony fingers, swirling and scissoring in a way that did not make it seem like it had “been a while.” Newt touched himself and groaned. “I’m ready.” 

Hermann positioned himself, leaned on his forearms, getting close to Newton’s face. He closed his eyes and pushed in. Newt’s soft, hairy thighs brushed up against Hermann’s thin, silky waist and Hermann felt the man beneath him squeeze. Newt spurred him on at every stroke, willing him to fuck him fast and strong. He rubbed his back, squeezed his ass, gave him plenty of tongue. Hermann pounded hard, grunting. Newt’s cries became more shrill and intense. He wanted to tell the man how close he was but he didn’t want to jinx it or throw him off so he just kept on keening. Hermann responded to the mildly filthy and sensuous sounds, saying Newt’s name low in his throat like a rumbling growl. Newt met his thrusts like crashing waves, wanking himself mindlessly. 

“Oh, Newt!!” Hermann fairly shouted and came, his head thrown back in such intense ecstasy that the sight of it finished Newt off. Newt spilled out in beautiful ribbons and collapsed on the mattress. They panted audibly for some minutes when Newt suddenly moved. 

“Shit! I gotta get dressed!” Newt hastily cleaned them up and Hermann sat up gingerly, slowly getting dressed. Hermann heard the man washing up before emerging from the bathroom still naked. Newt threw on fresh boxers and pulled on his tight jeans, and a fresh t-shirt. 

“Newton,” Hermann said softly. “This won’t make things awkward will it? I mean...”

Newt slung his bag over his shoulder and looked at him softly.

“It’ll be fine. Now we have something to do in our down time.”

“I do hope it’s more than that.” 

“You bet it is. I’ll phone you when I get where I’m going.” 

Newt smooched him goodbye. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

Hermann gave him the ghost of a smile. He slept in Newt’s room that night. 

[theamateurblogger]

Hewwo I love your stuff. Can you do a male s/o with all them slasher boys. Hcs but if you want you can do like, Tommy for a one shot. Idc if its sfw or nsfw

Thank you!!! I hope you like this!!!

Otis Driftwood

Otis is a thirsty ass fucker, not gonna lie

From an outside perspective, it would be easy to assume that he’s only with you for the sex

But let’s be real, if he wanted just sex, he would’ve stuck to his corpses

He loves you, whether he wants to admit it out loud or not

Constantly has his arm around you or touching you in some way

Just a way to stake a claim around others (and to prevent you from running)

But deeeeep down, he does it to make sure you’re okay

Always has to keep you in his sights “to make sure you don’t do something stupid” (like run)

Hugggge exhibitionist 

Seriously. It’s an issue. So, you’ll need to get real comfortable around the rest of the family

Chop Top

Chop Top is an actual dream to be in a relationship with

Plenty of arguments about who has better music taste and who gets to pick the playlist/radio station 

Out of everyone on this list, he’d be the most likely to propose 

He’d want a full on wedding with the family watching and victims’ bones used as decor

Kind of a traditional guy (besides the whole cannibalistic and maniacal tendencies ya know)

So expect some hesitancy from him to get serious with you

His knowledge of the LGBT+ community is very slim

But let’s be real, he had some fun with his fellow soldiers during his time in the war 

When he does give in to his love for you, he is absolutely obsessed with you

He’d tell victims stories about you and compare everything to you and things you do 

He likes your ass

A lot.

Expect to have it groped, slapped, and ogled at constantly

Would probably be super into roleplay (*cough* the Sonny wig *cough*)

He’s not good at it.

Michael Myers

Michael is…Michael?

You’ll be pretty confused with this guy

He just keeps following you around and you’re not dead yet???

You become more comfortable around each other and it just turns into comfortable silence and occasional situations where you need to ask him to hand you something

You’ll have to be the first one to initiate sex

It’ll be very awkward at first because you’ll have no fucking clue whether or not he’s even into it so you’ll just stop and walk away

And he kind of just doesn’t acknowledge any of what happened??? For like a week???

You’re aggravated and confused. (Told ya)

It takes you both a long time to navigate through your relationship

It doesn’t help that you can’t just…talk it out?

It’s all trial and error, but eventually you have a pretty domesticated relationship

He’s like a cat that is gone all day but comes home to you when he wants a nap

Freddy Krueger

Much like Otis, Freddy is a nasty fuck

And it would be hard for me to believe that your relationship isn’t prodominately about sex

We all know the backstory of Fredster and he’s not afraid to take what he wants

Very little boundaries

He’d go after nearly anyone who you come into contact with

It’s like a game to him

You’d honestly have to be just as batshit crazy as this guy

He really appreciates the element of surprise

Taking a bath? Now, you’re getting raw dogged at 3am, water splashing out of the tub

Trying to take an exam or you’re waiting in line at the DMV? He’s fucking with your mind the entire time

Walking down the hallway, trying to get a glass of water? BOO! Now he’s laughing his ass off at how much of a pussy you are

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chucky is genuinely kind of an asshole

And I don’t think you’d change that

Buuuuut, that’s kind of what attracts most people to him right?

He’s kind of new to these feelings toward you

And it really fucks with his ego

Internalized homophobia anyone?

It’ll take time and patience for this guy

But I think it’ll be worth it in the end

He’d steal you all kinds of cool stuff

Plus, Chuck’s a total switch and I think it’d be fun to finally take him down a peg in the bedroom

Bubba Sawyer

Such a sweet baby

Please don’t ever hurt him

Bubba would bring you flowers and little trinkets he made from bone constantly

When he first meets you and wants to impress you, he makes sure to fix up his mask realll nice with his favorite lipstick and wears his best clothes

Even now that you’re his, he still just wants to make you happy and make sure that you know he’s putting in effort because he cares ya know?

Constantly needs reassurance from you

As much as he likes giving you affection and gifts, he nearly cries when you do those things for him!!!

Please spoil that man!

Loooves listening to music! Chop Top, Bubba, and you almost always spend your nights together listening to the radio

From everything I’ve read online as well as some choice scenes from the movies, I’m a full believer in the fact that not only is Bubba 100% pan and open to alllll kinds of lovin’, but he also has the biggest oral fixation known to mankind!!!

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is a very different man than Bubba

He’s more rough with you and has full knowledge of what he’s doing

Definitely knows his size and will pick you up whenever he pleases

At the end of the day, he makes the rules

Doesn’t mean you can’t persuade him to do things that you want to do though

You’ll just have to make it up to him so he won’t be in a foul mood

Is a bit awkward with things

Especially around his family

I’ve said this already but Thomas definitely grabs things off of victims that he thinks you’d like!!!

Will probably try to wrap the items up! Will probably fail!

Nubbins Sawyer

Nubbins is such a cutie!!!

He loves you so much

I’ve said this before too, but Nubbins would definitely have a box full of photos he took of his S/O

He treasures them the absolute most

You know those little cute polaroid walls? He def has one of pictures of you and him

He’s also the most likely out of all the slashers to have a Pride flag hung up

He’s also an absolute handful.

Expect to wake up alone pretty often, because this dude just wants to take impromptu trips throughout Texas allllll the time

Sometimes you go with though

As he picks up cool roadkill from the side of the road, you pick up cool plants and maybe a lizard

As far as sex goes, he’s an absolute goof

He’s just so excited to have someone who wants to do these things with him

Lots of laughter

The Collector

Definitely a bit of a strange one

Literally. Stranger danger.

He first met you at a wildlife museum

And he just kept following you around

He even started targeting people that looked like you?

He just wanted the body parts to add to his collection

Without having to ruin the original

Eventually, he would kidnap you and lock you in his own personal “museum”

He’d show you his pieces every time he completed one

He’d bring you your favorite foods though which is nice

Then he’d watch you from the security cam he set up in your room

Brahms Heelshire

Such a needy boi

He likes to watch you

Secretively, in the walls

Orrr just sitting across from you, cross legged

You could be changing or you could be reading/watching TV

It doesn’t matter.

He’s always so infatuated by you

I really wish I could get behind the idea that Brahms is a huge sub and would call you daddy

But I just can’t???

He likes to have control.

There’s no way he’d want to give that up

You essentially have to trick him into doing anything around the house

So enjoy being his slave

The Other 

I guess this kind of depends on how far your relationship has been established

You probably started off as neighbors or maybe just acquaintances that ran into each other at the grocery story every once in awhile

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that he appreciates a good age gap and has more than enough experience with the opposite sex *wink* 

def a bi boi

His attraction to you didn’t go far beyond sexual at first, but then he seen how well you interacted with his daughter and that’s what broke him

I swear it’s like he has two personalities

When he’s out with you and your guys’ daughter, he’s a typical suburban husband/dad

Has a retirement plan, pays the bills, works his ass off in an average blue collar job, drinks beer with the bois and complains about your nagging

Also brags about how good you are to him and has no shame in his game

Purely domestic

But then??? When it’s just you two, it’s like a switch goes off where he doesn’t need to put on the act

He controls every aspect of you and your body; much like Brahms, he won’t be able to give up his control

He’s an absolute dom

Christian Grey ain’t got shit on what’s in his garage.

[love-fireflysong]

Day 18: Photo

Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Chris Hartley, Josh Washington, Ashley Brown Words: 1962 Rating: Teen (language bitches!) Author’s Notes: *Nickelback’s ‘Photograph’ plays in the background* Still alive over here! And it’s not angst this time! Amazing, I know. Big reason this one is so late is because after spending 3 days thinking about what to do for this, I still had nothing. And then I inspiration came to me in the shower so here we are: the follow-up to Deals and Arguments that probably no one wanted! Because lets be honest, if Ash is the one who writes ‘Ashley Hartley’ in her books, then Chris absolutely scribbled a heart with their initials by accident once. And that’s all it takes for Josh...

For almost as long as Chris had known him, Josh had always been obsessed with the idea. He wants to say that it started when they were in fifth grade, when their teacher, Ms. Franks, announced to the class that since she was pregnant, that she was going to be taking a leave of absence just before the end of the school year. Someone, he couldn’t recall who, had asked if they had a name for the baby picked out, but he could recall the response as though it had happened only yesterday.

“It’s still a little too early for names, but if they’re gonna be a girl, we’re thinking of naming her after a mutual best friend of ours.”

Ever since then, Josh had been all over the idea. Every dare, every piece of blackmail, every ‘dying’ wish was the same: “Name your kid Josh.” When he was younger, Chris would laugh and shove Josh away with a roll of his eyes. It was funny back when he was like ten or eleven, or hell, even when he was thirteen! He was gonna be a super cool app developer, he wasn’t gonna have time for marriage, much less kids. All of his time was gonna be spent developing super awesome games and apps that were gonna save the world! Or something. 

While his mind didn’t exactly change the moment he met Ashley the summer after he turned thirteen, he is ashamed to admit it was pretty dang close. Josh introduced Ash to him in their favorite fast food diner, and declared the three of them to be best friends, til death do us part, yada yada yada. At the end of July, the three of them were inseparable, and by the beginning of school that September, he was gone. Donezo baby! Head-over-fucking-heels for the little braces wearing, red-head that read Sherlock Holmes and Shakespeare for fun.

And unsurprisingly, Josh never let up on his demand. Nope, he did not! In fact, he got even worse about it. 

He needed to borrow a pencil for math? Name your kid after me. 

Can he spot him a couple of bucks for ice cream? Only if you name your kid Josh. 

When did the Battle of the Alamo take place? 1846. But I’ll tell you the right answer if you swear to name your first-born after me. 

While extremely exhausting to try and avoid, Chris was able to do so easily. He just started asking the kid who sat behind him in class for pencils, borrowed money from Ash instead, and he’d rather fail history then name his kid after Josh. Thankfully, after his first bombed history exam, Ash made all three of them do their homework together constantly, so the last one became a moot point. Barely.

Eventually, Josh tapered off on the demand, but not until after the start of the next school year. Most people probably would have stopped a few weeks in, but most people weren’t Josh Washington. When he wanted something, the guy stuck to his guns and didn’t give it up for nothing. Not that he stopped entirely of course, Josh still brings it up during dares and shit but it becomes immensely more manageable. He notices that he doesn’t ask it of Ash during these game, but when he considers the completely mortified look she gets on her face when ever he gets asked, Chris figures that its probably for the best.

(The fact that he not only stops that day Chris walked back into Ash’s bedroom and she’s as red as her hair while shoving something into her desk drawer, but that’s also when the mortification starts, he doesn’t clue into until years later.)

So when Josh walks up to him during their first period together with the absolute shittiest of shit-eating grins on his face, Chris is on red high alert.

“Oh no. What did you do?”

The laugh Josh gives is low and dark, and if Chris’s hackles weren’t raised earlier, they sure as fucking-hell are now. “Oh no, Cochise. It’s not what I’ve done, it’s what you’ve done.” With that, Josh proceeds to just slam a binder onto Chris’s desk, and he looks to see that he recognizes it easily.

“Okay...? I don’t see what my math notes have to do with anything.”

Another laugh, this one somehow darker and eviler then the first. Oh boy, those alarms going off in his head aren’t getting any quieter. “Oh, it has absolutely everything to do with you.” Before Chris can even respond, Josh is already flipping through the pages, past older pieces of loose-leaf that ripped from the binder coils that he hadn’t bothered to repair and and the newer notes with their edges still intact, and stops at the most recent. At first Chris doesn’t see anything, it’s all his notes about logarithms that he had taken the previous day, blue ink scratchy and messy all across the page, and then he does. And he absolutely blanches at the sight and hurriedly slams the binder shut, putting his face in his arms as he covers his head, actually whimpering as he refuses to look at Josh.

He doesn’t have to look to see the triumphant grin on Josh’s face, he can already imagine it pretty clearly. 

“Oh fuck me.”

The worst part is that he didn’t even know it was there in the first place, he never would have lent his notes out otherwise. Josh had been missing more and more school recently, claiming that he was having killer headaches and they were making him sick, so Chris had done what friends do for each other and lent him his notes. What he didn’t realize was that at some point when he had been taking notes down, he had drawn a little heart in the margins with the initials CH+AB inside. Something he never would have done if Josh had been there with him, but he hadn’t been, so Chris had zoned out thinking about meeting up with Ash after school to bring Josh his homework.

He was so dead.

“What do you want?” Though muffled through his arms, he cringed at how small and weak his voice came out.

God, he could hear the stupid grin in Josh’s voice when he answered. “You know exactly what I want, Cochise. What I’ve always wanted.”

Chris didn’t remove his head from his arms on the desk, but he did turn it enough to narrow his eyes at Josh. “Are you fucking serious dude? Really? You’re still on about that shit?”

“I will never stop. You know this to be true.”

“I am not naming my stupid kid after you! I mean, maybe I won’t ever have kids. I’m certainly not gonna if I have to name them Josh!”

Josh rolled his eyes, but the wide grin never left his face. “You don’t have to name all of them after me. Just one.” Somehow, Chris watched the grin get even wider as a thought came to him. “Maybe two, if they’re twins. Can you imagine? The twins, Joshua and Joshlynn, it’ll be great!”

“Okay, now I’m definitely never having kids.”

Josh gave a short bark of laughter. "Please, like that’s ever gonna happen. You wanna know why, Cochise? Cause if Ash is gonna want kids, then you’re gonna want kids.”

He couldn’t help it. He really, truly couldn’t help it. The image of little kids with bright red hair and glasses flashed through his mind unbidden, and he groaned loudly and put his face back into his arms to hide how red his face had gotten.

“Anything else, dude. Make me do anything else. I will strip and run through the entire school naked if you want, just don’t make me promise you this stupid shit.” God, if only he hadn’t drawn that stupid heart on his stupid notes, then none of this would be happening right now! He sat up in his seat at the revelation. “Wait. I can just rewrite the page and burn this one.”

“Oh, Chris Chris Chris.” They way Josh shakes his head in disappointment sends around a million different alarm bells ringing. “Do you really think that little of me? I took like a million pictures my dude. This shit is saved forever. I can send this to Ash whenever the fuck I want. I can post this on whatever social media I feel like and it will live on the internet forever, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Oh. Right. Shit. “I can’t believe that you can literally blackmail me with anything right now, and this is the hill you’re dying on.”

“So are we in agreement then?”

“I cannot believe I’m saying this, but yes. Fine. I will name my stupid kid after your stupid ass.”

“Oh please. Your kid may be stupid, but there is no way that any kid of Ashley’s is gonna be.”

“...I hate you so much right now.”

--------------------------------------------------

Chris hadn’t meant to respond the way he did when he found the old notebook he had bought for Ash years ago. He really hadn’t. He had just been excited to find out that she had kept the stupid thing after all these years, he hadn’t even been joking when he told her that he had spent ages in the store looking for it. (”It has to be perfect, Mom! I can’t just buy her any stupid old journal, she loves these things! I mean, what if she hates it?”) So he had opened it and started flipping through the pages, laughing with her at all the stupid misspellings and bad grammar that her thirteen year-old self had written.

And then he reached the last page.

Things had really been out of his hands at that point. Something about seeing her writing her name down as ‘Ashley Hartley’ had just ignited something in him. The images of her walking down an aisle, of them with matching rings on their fingers, of kids running underfoot, was too much for him to handle. So Chris had kissed her. Kissed her like he was never gonna be able to do it again. Them falling onto her bed had been an accident, though a happy one, as they both didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss.

Finally, he had pulled away and her giggle when she moved to fix his glasses had taken his breath away. It had quickly returned when his eyesight improved enough to really take in the image of Ash flushed pink with her red hair spread out under her on the bed, and he was suddenly reminded that she was going to be living with him soon! That this was a sight he was going to be waking up to every morning at the end of the month, and he had never wanted anything so bad in his life.

“So,” his voice is rougher than usual when he speaks and he can feel her shiver under him at it. He makes a note for future reference. “Ashley Hartley, huh?” 

He watches her bite her lip, and it takes everything in him to not kiss her again. Two years in, and he’s still amazed that he’s allowed to kiss her whenever he wants, that she encourages it even! “Be honest with me,” she starts off and Chris has never been told to do something so easy in his life, “what do you think of the name Joshlynn?”

He stares at her for just a moment, just letting her words sink in, and then falls forward to smother himself in her hair, his shoulders shaking he’s laughing so hard. Of course. Of fucking course he did.

“So he got you too, I see.”  

[myinnerroomie]

              Today I want to write for pleasure instead of business. I want my mind to be productive, but I am sick of work.  I am sick of all the grad school papers and the stress of getting everything in on time, the stress of applying for this test, and studying for that test. The stress of pretending I care about the Air Force. And for what?  I feel as if I am not doing something to better myself, then I am failing.  In all aspects of life. And for what? What am I trying to accomplish?  What do I want out of life?  The answer is everything.  More than I’m getting.  So I fill the void with military and homework and physical activities.  All of which are healthy right?  What’s the problem?  I can do more.  I am so capable.  I see that. I know that I’m not meant for this.   However, I signed up for it, right?  I’ll finish what I signed up for and move on and appreciate what I learned.  In the meantime, I feel it necessary to point out that I may be jobless in 2 months, maybe not.  The stress of never knowing what is going to happen is real.  And I’m sick of it.  However, it pays the bills (quite nicely), I’m staying in a condo by the beach (where I’m sitting on the balcony typing), and it’s frankly beautiful weather and I’ll go for a run later. It’s really my fault that I haven’t found a job yet.  I should never have relied on reserve like this anyway.  I have no fear that I’ll figure something out when the time comes.  Actually, life is way better than it really has ever been.  

I’m so free (aside from the military which ironically is the thing that saved me). Oooh.  Let’s get into my early adulthood.  That should be fun.  So, embarrassingly enough, until this past year, I have always had a boyfriend.  We can get into my childhood later, but it probably stemmed from somewhere back then.  I have never thought much of myself.  Figured I’d go to community college like everybody else, then I went to a university like everybody else.  Majored in a stupid (fun) degree.  No real regrets about that though.  My self-worth was based on if people liked me, if I felt I looked good.  I do regret a lot of the actions of that sad, desperate girl.  Nobody understood, and I was good at faking it.  I did things that I have never admitted to anybody.  I literally could have been diagnosed with the same disorders as the other kids in the behavioral hospital where I worked.  Only mine weren’t for attention and I was deeply ashamed, so nobody knew.  I educated myself on the consequences of what would happen if I continued on that path, and slowly but surely, I got better.  And sadly, I can’t even celebrate that with anyone.  Shame, guilt, fear, worthlessness, pain – what I used to always feel.  Pride and confusion with all this freedom I have is what I feel now.

I used to think emotions were embarrassing.  I knew I hurt all the time, but I was never taught how to deal with it, so I would isolate myself and feel stupid.  Actually, that’s what I was taught.  Everybody has issues, and I’m not special. Get over it.  Why did it hurt so much?  Why can’t I get over it?  Why am I so miserable?  Why am I even alive?  Everybody dies anyway.  Oh, I know how I can deal with this: weed.  Ahh, there so much better.  Now all I’m thinking about is how I can’t remember what I’m thinking about. Yeah, I should probably go to class now.  Wonder if they’ll know I’m stoned. (turns out that they did).  But I was really enjoying class then. Very intrigued with Maslow’s hierarchy of need.  Hmm self-actualization.  Will I ever know my purpose and get to the point in life where I can fulfill that need??? Nah bro I’m starving…  You think everybody is staring at me eating these chips? -- Anyway, this is only the middle of the story.  I’m not even going to go back to my first boyfriend.  Let’s skip to the second one that cheated on me after 2 years.  Looking back now, he’s gross and bigoted. He was mean to me.  He lied to me.  He cheated.  Everything was an ordeal.  I just constantly lowered myself and made myself small for him.  He, of course, never reciprocated.  I wasn’t worth it.  Because I never showed any self-worth.  One good decision I made was to further my education and move to Hattiesburg for school which he actually made fun of me for doing. Anyway, I remember one time he had just come from the boat or whatever he was doing for work and invited his friend to our apartment.  I went to sit on his lap and he pushed me off and laughed.  I just went to my room and cried while he spent the night with his friend. That’s not me.  I hate I did that.  I hate that’s their memory of me.  Oh well.  I know they still talk shit about me back home.  That’s fine and that’s their problem.

Another reoccurring theme with boyfriends is my lack of any other friends and/or support. This takes me to my second boyfriend. I had been single for less than a year, and I met him.  It was so much nicer at first.  I felt like he cared about me.  He was so sweet.  Finally, everything was reciprocated to me, and I was happy.  I was happy to make him happy.  Again, with my screwed up priorities, man.  But I had grown up a little.  I just had this baseless fear that I would be alone forever.  But, I’m not necessarily the victim.  I did have this notion that I should be taken care of. I never expected to pay.  I expected some sort of money and to pay to go out and about.  That didn’t happen with this guy.  This honestly helped me become independent.  However, over time, he became more and more controlling. He threw me down and hit me in a NOLA hotel and the police were called.  He tore up my purse and a jacket. I remember feeling so much stress because he said he was going to leave me there, and I didn’t know how to get home.  Nor did I want to tell anybody why I was in that predicament anyway.  I thought it was all my fault and apologized and he stayed. How lucky am I? To stay with a guy that hits me and breaks my belongings (He also broke my tent.  If I ever went anywhere, he would be calling and obsessed. I couldn’t enjoy anything because I knew there would always be repercussions for having fun.   I literally broke out in hives at my friend’s house in Jackson one time because I told him no I wouldn’t come back to his place that night and it gave me so much grief.  He said he was going to break up with me if I did not drive back.  But I sure enough stayed my ass up there though. It was still embarrassing.  He threw a boot at me once because I was mad and didn’t want to sleep in the same room as him.  When I told him that hurt and showed him the bruise, he blamed me for acting that way. A few times, I tried to leave to go home, and he would grab me and not let me go.  I would be like if you don’t get your hands off me, I have every right to defend myself.  So I would straight up try to fist fight him to let go of me. He would laugh. Sounds healthy right?  Oh yeah, one time I did not do what he wanted and he threatened to get rid of my cat and locked all the doors to the house so I could not get to MY fucking cat.  So I waited until he got home and he just acted like he didn’t care at all about the strife he caused.  I think I may have even stayed that night at his house.  I hated him but I didn’t know what else to do.              

In the middle of all of this, I joined the military.  So yeah he came to visit me in Texas for graduation then said this was his vacation and that he was going to do what he wanted.  I’m like dude no.  I’ve been locked up for weeks.  It’s my vacation.  Another argument, more crying.  You’re a bitch if you stand up for yourself.  Okay months go on, we break up in tech school.  But I know he has my cat.  I also know he has a place to live.  Again, my fault.  I’m using him cause I don’t really know what else to do.  So I live at his house.  Then move to out of town.  He threatens to leave me again and tells me I’m shitty for moving away.  I move back to his place.  Back and forth, but he just stays and does whatever the fuck he wants with no consideration for me.  Eventually, I just started to dislike him.  I can take care of myself.  I got another place with a room mate.  His presence annoyed me.  I thought he was ugly.  I think that was mutual, and I was like dude:  Let’s end it. It’s miserable.  He agreed.  Easiest break-up ever.  Now did I do dumb things, and normal post-breakup things? Absolutely. Did I still text him a couple times afterwards? Yeahhh.  Also,  I made out with a 20 year old army kid at a bar. And I also slept with a married man.  That was a whole thing.  But most of last year, I have just grown.

I have nobody grabbing my arm now.  If I want to pack up and go hiking somewhere across the country, I’ll buy a plane ticket and go. If I want to hang out with friends, its fun again.  I do not rely on anybody for my self-worth.  2020 was extremely rough for me. I lost my house and all my belongings.  My car flooded in a hurricane (and of course I only had liability insurance).  It has all worked out anyway.  I didn’t even need any of that stuff.  Honestly, I never had the worst life.  That wasn’t the goal of this. You know, to complain.  It’s just that everything has gotten better. Losing everything helps put your life into perspective.  I’m so much more appreciative now.  I look at what I have accomplished and where I came from.  I used to think that everybody was more important than me, and that I needed them to like me and see me as worthy to be around.  Well, that has changed completely.  I don’t have to like you and you don’t have to like me.  That doesn’t make me less of a valuable person.  Everybody is not better than me and I have just as much a chance of being successful as everybody else.  I’m not a “bitch”.  Maybe some folks find me “annoying”, but you’re crazy if you think I will ever make myself small to fit inside anybody’s box that doesn’t like me.  I don’t “deserve it” to be living a miserable life. Life is hard.  Life is beautiful. It’s all about learning, and that’s what I have done. I win.  I’m free.  I can do anything.  While I do regret some of my past, all this has given me the drive to me who I am today and who I will be tomorrow.  Still gotta figure that one out.

[jsuisartistofthestars]

The way I have so much gratitude for my Ancestors and Protectors 🥺 they've protected me multiple times from someone who turned out abusive and manipulative and now that person is gonna get hit with those pending transactions of karma

Here's the wild looking warning:

[TW: abuse, manipulation, abusive relationship mention, blood magick, curses, death mention]

Imma just drop this life story here. I've been proceeding it for so long and maybe having it on a post would help me really set that it's real. It's straight crazy stuff but still. I believe in fairytales.

I have an ex who's currently in prison who was also my karmic partner. I escaped abuse and (later found out through Divination) an early death after I broke up with him and blocked him. The last time I saw him (2018), we got in a major argument when he threatened to "expose" me on IG for fucking another guy (I'm single at this point and he's just very salty). But a month before he wanted me to have this baby cuz that would "make" him change. This man was the reason I ended up needing to be Baker Acted one night over a month before the argument; he was at a party and ignored his friend's messages and calls that I was at the hospital. But when I got discharged (my parents drove up to get me without my knowledge so they released me because no one expected them to come) he came over with some sorry ass face cuz my dad promised to kill him if he ever hurts me again.

During this argument though, I told him that I'd be in going to Canada for vacation, graduating, and living a better life while he'll be going to jail. He got arrested a week later. He called me and said he turned himself in after all that happened so he can take responsibility. I didn't believe him; I knew he was trying to manipulate me again. I called his PO on my way home for vacation and mans got arrested for speeding. I told his mom since he lied to her too (who's lovely overall and that news really set to her how deep of a fuck up he was) and went on my way.

2019, I had started a much better and healthier relationship. The ex got arrested again right after getting out. He did try to contact me a few times but I knew the games by now and my then-bf texted him to back off (a lot of men over there didn't step unless a guy came up 🙄). I had really started my spiritual journey for myself now, learning tarot and starting to pray to my ancestors. I moved out of town for good two days before he was released from jail and he had no idea where I was/am. I had always prayed to my ancestors that he wouldn't ever see me again and they made sure his ass was locked up while i was walking around.

I graduated in December of 2019 and when I went back to my school for the ceremony, I found out he got arrested. A month before. For helping to hide evidence in a murder. He had been transferred across the north side of the state and most of his friend groups fell apart so not even anyone of his "friends" could find me. But I was plagued with nightmares almost every day.

This ain't even the big parts yet.

Last year around this time I had broken up with my recent ex. This is where I got catapulted into my journey further. I found out fake friends of mine had put attacks on me and caused my relationship to end and almost killed me. I since cut them out, learned about protection and Cleansing, got closer to my ancestors, and began to tap into my abilities.

The nightmares shifted from the spiritual attack to that first ex again. Somehow, in prison he got one of my IG pages taken down. I had been off social media so that was a shock, as an old homie of his told me he did something to my pictures. I was taught a binding away spell to make him stop. I don't hex—really it's my last resort. My point wasn't to cause pain but to stop him from bothering me, jumping in my dreams, etc. A month later, I had a dream where he tried to take me away, practically hunting me down for two weeks (in the dream) until my dad shot him in the head (kept his promise) and I woke up literally feeling free. I broke the cycle with him. I went months with nothing but vibes. I began working on my clairaudience as well.

So one thing is that the spirits who walk with me tend to share bad news about people I know. I get good news too but, especially when someone does me wrong, they'll lay down the real stuff. Sometimes they're messages/warnings for others that can be changed if action is taken. My dad gets this too. He was the one who knew that vakabon was gonna end up in jail/prison soon from his own dream.

After Christmas in December, I was chilling and driving and I heard "______ is going to die." I'm like 😳 Mind you, I'm listening to some hype kompa music, running errands, singing, and this comes through clear. That first ex is gonna die. When I got home, my ancestors confirmed this through my cards. I left it alone even though to me it's great news. I still don't wish death on people but hey they said it.

THIS JANUARY (goddamn this shit is long)

In the middle of the first month of the new year, this prison ex shows up in my dream but he masquerades as a completely different person trying to trick me. A protector spirit literally shows up and calls him out, telling me to leave the room but I catch the dude's face. Idk how you can go cold in a dream but I did. His face, his hair, his stupid smile, and his off-putting laughing. Like he knew he almost got me. I checked in with other readers, and it was his Spirit. Apparently, he knows he's gonna die and wanted to trap me spiritually so I'd go down with him. He wanted me to die. Mans like a demon. When I woke up, I used cards and shells to Divine coupled with constant cleansing of my spaces and myself. I made multiple sigils for protection for myself and even my loved ones. He hasn't shown up since cuz he's always blocked out now, but looking for new ways. I keep up with it every day.

I talked to my seer friend and learned that that ex had tried to do some heavy blood magick on me (no wonder why my ancestors like my recent ex like he does nothing at all) and it backfired big time; no protection, nothing. All my spirits from ancestors to protectors to even lwa and orishas have been making their presences known. He went to someone to help get the work done and the guy knew it was going to backfire but let the ex do it on purpose (grade A). Now he's sick and is still going to be paying 😌 maybe even more 😌

What did get me some is why. What type of hatred you have for me to put so much risk to kill me when you haven't even seen me in years? You're so upset at your situation that you try to drag me down. A friend suggested that he could've always been into more baneful magick but played it off well. That could very well be true. Or he escalated cuz he blames me for things that happened to him. Whatever it is, it's on him. He's facing Justice and my people. Whoever he went to really let him fuck up knowing I was protected but let it come back on him. It's the audacity. But he'll never have me. When I escaped that relationship I meant it on all levels.

I'm safe, I'm guarded, I'm flourishing, and I'll outlive him.

[spidercakes]

Peter is a famous cat burglar and Tony is a police officer trying to catch him

Omg this is so fun! I love this idea :) Went with a little bit of identity porn for it as well.

*

MJ is freaking out and yeah, Peter too because he totally didn’t see this coming. “Is she okay?” Shuri, princess Shuri of Wakanda, asks as she gestures to MJ hyperventilating on his couch.

Peter doesn't know how me manages to play it cool but he does. “She’s fine,” he says, “and much more competent than she looks.” Mostly because at the moment she looks like she’s a panicking fifteen year old but she’s good, very good, its why Peter works with her. And also she blackmailed him and Ned into stealing some artifacts like seven years ago and he’s gotten good at it so now he does it for a living. The funny thing is that he’s dating a cop, which Peter takes personal pride in because Tony isn’t exactly stupid. Actually he’s way too smart to be a cop but for whatever reason that’s where he ended up.

“Good, so you can do it then?” Shuri asks and Peter nods. “Great, if you get caught its better you than us,” she says and Peter frowns. “Using Wakandan tech would be a little obvious, would it not?” she points out, guessing at Peter’s thoughts.

“Good point. I thought that um... axe looking thingy was from Ghana though.”

Shuri presses her fingers to her temples, “please don’t tell me you think the British actually label their stolen artifacts correctly.”

“Yeah, that’s what MJ is for...” he says, wincing a little.

Shuri turns to her, “well, clearly you’re better at this than he is,” she tells her.

MJ finally regains her cool as she nods. “Poor white boy would be mostly helpless and flexible without Ned and I,” she says. “And here my mom thought I’d never make use of that anthropology degree,” she says, pleased with herself. Yeah, she doubts MJ’s mom thought she’d start an artifact smuggling ring returning stolen artifacts to various countries of origin but okay. And that doesn’t touch on the weekend jobs, which are usually more personal things and Peter finds it fun to thwart rich people’s security systems.

*

When Peter gets home Tony is pouring over a large pile of paperwork looking confused. “I don’t get how this guy manages to do all this,” he says.

Peter slips an arm around his shoulders and perches in his lap, “he’s good, I’ll give him that.”

“Too good to be working alone but there’s no evidence he’s working with anyone else,” he says, hand settled on Peter’s thigh.

There’s good reason for that and Ned is most of it, not that Peter doesn’t do his fair share to make sure they’re untraceable. But Ned is the guy in the chair and he’s damn good at it. Peter’s just backup. “I’m sure you’ll find him some day,” he says, kissing Tony’s cheek.

“I hope so because I’ve heard rumors of another robbery,” he says.

Peter knows, he’s spread a few well places rumors about a museum across the city from his actual target. “To be fair,” Peter says, “maybe the museums he steals from shouldn’t have a bunch of stolen shit in them. Seems like a good way to solve the problem at hand here is to give people their stuff back.”

Tony sighs, “you can’t just steal things, Peter.”

“Exactly, tell the museums to give the stuff back,” Peter says. Its not what Tony meant and they both know it so Tony sighs and gives him a look.

“You know what I meant,” he says.

“Sure I do, but I still think the problem is the museums here. I mean, stealing doesn’t seem so bad when you know the things that are being taken were already stolen,” he points out.

“And if those things end up on the black market?” Tony asks and Peter squints.

“We both know nothing has ever ended up there, that’s not a real argument.”

“But those things do disappear without a trace. Its possible they’re in someone’s personal collection now.” They aren’t, Peter knows, because he goes and steals things back from personal collections too.

“Isn’t this guy known for like... managing to steal a whole ass mummy from someone’s personal collection?” he asks. “I’d love to know how he managed that.”

Tony snorts, “you and everyone else. But yeah, I guess he’s stolen from a few personal collections too.”

Try dozens or better, but its harder to make connections to personal collections than it is to museums. Also, a lot of people with personal collections got those collections in less than legal ways, meaning calling the cops isn’t really something a good lot of them want to do lest they bust themselves for illegal activity in the meantime.

“See? Stuff probably isn’t going to personal collections,” he says, snuggling into Tony. “Now put that stuff away, you promised we could have a date night.”

*

Peter looks ridiculous sitting on the ground with one of the eyes of his suit blown off, exposing part of his face and his suit is torn. “Man, that’s going to take forever to fix,” Ned mumbles.

“The suit? Are we not going to talk about how that total hottie nearly killed Peter, appeared to kill his girlfriend, and then made off with that Wakandan artifact?” MJ asks. “What the hell are we going to tell the Wakandan royalty about this?”

“Um. That a total hottie nearly killed me, killed at least one of his accomplices, also stole one of those mask thingies, and then made off with their artifact?” he asks more than states. MJ cringes when he says ‘mask thingy’ but lets it slide on account of he’s bad at memorizing weirdly specific things about cultures he’s never seen up close before.

“We’re going to get marked by Wakandans before the American police finally figure us out and its so much worse because you’re dating the American police,” MJ mumbles.

“I’m dating a single cop, not the whole of American police come on,” Peter mumbles.

“Bootlicker,” MJ accuses. “Just want to get my opinion out of the way before I’m taken out by whatever passes for Wakandan Secret Service.”

Peter turns to Ned but he shrugs, “I’m kind of with MJ on that one, but also he’s hot. I’d stoop that low too,” he says, earning a look from MJ. “Oh come on, give Peter some credit Tony is hot.”

MJ lets out an annoyed noise. “Stark isn’t unattractive,” she says, acting as if admitting that hurts more than having her teeth pulled.

*

Tony is looking over the footage wondering how the hell this dude manages to stick to walls when he gets lucky and notices. The robbery went wrong, way wrong, and its clear no one expected the surprisingly attractive second robber if their first guy nearly getting shot in the face is any indication. But it does bust the eye of his suit and leaves his face partially visible for a few seconds before he turns from the cameras and crawls away, still attached to the ceiling.

He doesn’t expect it when he notices, of course he doesn’t expect it, but he’d know that face anywhere.

*

When Peter comes home he’s fully prepared to crawl into bed with Tony and snuggle up to him for the last time before he’s presumably killed off by Wakandan royals but when he gets there he knows Tony knows. He’s not exactly easy to read and he looks so hurt.

“Tony,” he says, instinctually going to him but Tony takes a step back.

“Was any of this even real?” he asks and Peter frowns.

“Tony, I steal things, that doesn’t make me an actor. So not my skill set,” he says. “But I’ll be honest, I saw that you were on the case and you’re hot so I figured I’d indulge myself a little. But then you ended up actually having a personality and after I found out that you managed to get a bunch of your coworkers arrested and charged with domestic abuse and also covering up for other cops I was kind of a goner.”

Its an easy way to soften the situation, Peter knows, because Tony doesn’t much care for any kind of abuse and he’s automatically endeared to anyone who feels the same way. “Then what is all this?” he asks, gesturing to his pile of files.

“I’ve already explained it to you like ten times,” Peter says. “And honestly I’ve had a really bad week so can we skip this talk until I sleep off nearly being shot in the face?” he asks.

Tony considers it, Peter can see he’s got a whole lot more questions, but he leaves it alone for the moment and opens his arms to Peter. He sighs and walks over, curling his arms around Tony’s waist and smiling when Tony does the same.

*

Tony looks shocked and Peter can’t say he blames him. He would be shocked too if not for his knowledge that Shuri is actually pretty cool and it turns out the Wakandans aren’t pissed. Shuri looks a bit harassed as she leans against the doorway. “Please do not call my murderous cousin hot,” she says.

“Well he was before he tried to shoot me,” Peter says. “And you know, his girlfriend.”

Shuri looks a bit pained but says nothing on that in particular. “Yes, well, turns out he has a lot of rage issues. Caused a lot of drama, threw my brother off a cliff, normal Wakanda stuff,” she says like kings get tossed off cliffs normally.

Tony frowns, “is... is that normal in Wakanda?”

“Yes of course, point is you don’t need to worry about it we got the vibranium back,” she says and winces, getting a dirty look from her guards in orange. “Um. I mean... can we get back to my murderous cousin?”

“Is he always that big of a dick or do you think he can be redeemed?” MJ asks.

Peter frowns, “you’re really gunna date a dude who murdered his ex?”

“No, dumbass. I’m going to have sex with him, Jesus. No need to make a commitment,” MJ mumbles.

“Well, you’ll have to summon him with a Ouiji board and have ghost sex,” Shuri says, then pauses. “Do those things actually work or are they a myth or American horror movies? I want to know if I can summon a ghost to haunt my brother,” she says excitedly.

[powerwordsleep]

naruto!DnD au

the team 7!DnD verse that nobody @baasama asked for

and because there’s already some stuff out there that’s completely terrible not only for team 7, but also DnD, so i felt the need to do right by both.

Three travelers stand alone on a vast cliff, a smoke-darkened sky above and an endless drop to death below. Blood, dirt, and weeks worth of grime litters their skin and clothes. Their journey has been long, perilous, unrelenting, but they finally made it to the end. Victory beckons them. The promise of peace, happiness, and a not ungenerous sum of gold is only one more fight away. One more dance of kill or be killed.

The horizon dances red with the flames of the nearby villages burning below them. They had managed to evacuate most of the civilians before the attack began, but they had passed by more than a few charred, burned beyond recognition bodies on their trek up the mountain. Each fallen they passed only hardened their resolve.

The sound of an earth-shaking roar escapes from the mouth of the cave in front of them. The ground quakes as the footsteps of something giant stalks forward to meet its challengers. A large red snout appears first, shining like the blood running in the streets below, and the lips spread in a bloodthirsty grimace, revealing a row of sharp, glistening fangs. The creature growls in what is meant to be a chuckle, a plume of smoke shooting out of its nostrils and into the faces of the three tiny figures before it.

“So, you’ve arrived at last.”

One figure steps forward, seemingly unafraid even in the face a would-be god. “Yeah, we’ve come to put an end to your stupid reign of violence and bloodshed and… stupidness!” The man puffs out his chest in bravado. “Believe it!”

“Idiot,” his companion scoffs from behind. “It’s not a great idea to threaten a dragon right to its face.”

“Shut up, Lucien!” the first man whips around to glare. “What are you, scared of some lizard action?”

The man called Lucien seethes. “No, Markus, I just don’t have a death wish!”

Markus turns to face Lucien completely, the large, foreboding, capable of ending the world as they know it enemy front of them forgotten.

“How many times do I have to tell you, my name is Markus Ultimate!”

“As if I would use that ridiculous name -”

“Do you wanna fucking go? Do you wanna fucking brawl right here Lucien because I swear to god-”

“Will the two of you shut up!” the third member of the party interrupts. “We do not have time for petty squabbles when there’s a dragon to fight!”

“Aww, but Nila, Lucien is being a dick again!” Markus Ultimate whines.

The woman called Nila sighs, having heard this song many times before. “Sorry, Markus Ultimate, but Lucien kind of has a point. We should have gone with his idea and tried to find a back entrance and sneak in, rather than face this thing head on.”

Lucien raises his chin in triumph and Markus Ultimate, eyes daring him to make another snarky remark. Markus Ultimate pouts and mutters, “You’re just siding with Lucien because you’re sleeping with him in real life.”

A cacophony of groans, sighs, and indignant shouts ruin whatever slim illusion of in-game fantasy they had managed to immerse themselves in. Kakashi sighs and rubs at his exposed eyebrow, his headache sure to make a reappearance.

“Naruto, that was completely uncalled for! You know what we said about breaking character like that, and besides, I do not give special preference to Sasuke just because-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Naruto cuts of Sakura’s rant. “You boning Sasuke on the regular isn’t affecting Nila and Lucien’s relationship at all.”

“Why are you so fixated on our sex life, deadlast?” Sasuke accuses, one eyebrow twitching in both anger and disgust. “Stay out of our business.”

Naruto turns red and ignores Sasuke’s comment in favor of shouting at Kakashi, as if all of this was somehow his fault, “Let’s get back to the game already, Kakashi-sensei! We got a dragon to fight!”

“Everyone roll initiative,” Kakashi says before the argument can get any worse. Like addressing whatever weird tension that last comment had triggered.

Kakashi is getting too old for this.

“14,” Sakura says.

“Aww, man, I got a 12,” Naruto groans.

“It’s not a competition, Naruto,” Kakashi reminds him. For the 100th time.

“But if it was I would kick your ass. 21.” Sasuke just has to so unhelpfully egg him on.

Naruto predictably takes the bait. “Hey that’s unfair! Sasuke is cheating!”

Sakura rolls her eyes and gestures to the dice. “No, he’s not. He rolled an 17 and gets a +4 to initiative because he has high Dex as a Rogue.”

Sasuke smirks across the table. “Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen to be a Bard if you’re so upset about it.”

“Alright, Sasuke you’re up first.”

Sasuke peers over the map set up on the table and considers his position. “Do I have enough movement to get to those clusters of rocks over there?”

“Yes, but if you want to try and hide you have to roll with disadvantage because the dragon is right there -”

“23.”

Kakashi sighs. “Alright, you’ve somehow successfully hidden behind the rocks, because the dragon was distracted by Markus Ultimate making a scene.”

Naruto slaps the table in glee. “Ha! You’re welcome, Lucien.”

Kakashi politely coughs to reign in their attention. “Next is the dragon’s turn.”

His three former students lean in, eager to see what the first move will be. “The dragon steps fully out of the cave, his full height towering 20 feet above you. He makes two claw attacks at you, Markus Ultimate, and swipes his tail at you, Nila.”

Kakashi rolls his die behind the privacy screen. “18 and 16 to hit for you Markus -”

“It’s Markus Ultimate!”

“- and 21 for you, Nila.”

Sakura grimaces as she checks her character sheet. “Hits.”

“You take 14 points of slashing damage as the dragon swings his tail over the cliff and slams into your torso.”

Sakura marks down the damage on her sheet and Kakashi looks expectantly at Naruto.

He’s smirking. Never a good sign.

“I cast Vicious Mockery on the dragon and say, ‘Get wrecked, you gecko!’”

Kakashi rolls his D20 and audibly groans when the dice comes to a stop.

“The dragon fails the save.” Naruto whoops in celebration. “As his claws race towards you, you say your, um, chant, and it disturbs the dragon enough that you are able to evade and reduce some of the damage.”

“Your turn, Nila.”

Sakura grins and rubs her hands together in anticipation. “Watch how it’s done, boys! I move to the dragon and take two swipes at it with my sword.”

“Roll for both attacks.”

They watch as Sakura rolls the die. “10 and 17!” Sakura says, and in sync all three head turn towards the DM, eagerly awaiting the result.

“The first one misses,” he begins and they nod, having expected that,”and the second one…” Kakashi swears they’re about to fall out of their seats. “Hits.”

“Yes!” Sakura pumps her fist up in the air. “And I cast Divine Smite!”

“Roll the extra d8s of damage.”

Sasuke passes her the extra die and Naruto gives a, “Hell yeah, Nila!” of encouragement.

After the damage is calculated Kakashi addresses Naruto. “Your turn, Markus Ultimate.”

Naruto is silent for a few moments, which is probably a new record for him. When he speaks, is low and serious.

“I walk forward in front of the dragon.”

“Don’t you dare, Naruto,” Sasuke warns. An impending sense of doom begins to overtake Kakashi.

“I say, ‘Hey dude, this here, this thing you’re doing, it’s like not very cool. In fact, it sucks. Cause people are cool, you know? You could be friends with people, instead of burning them and shit. It’s actually a lot more fun! Do you have any friends? I could be your friend! I understand the pain of loneliness. You’re just like me -’”

“You can’t be serious.” Sasuke says.

“Naruto, please,” Sakura begs.

Naruto doesn’t take his eyes off Kakashi.

“Roll a persuasion check.”

Naruto grabs his dice. Sasuke turns aways, muttering, “I can’t freaking watch this,” while Sakura holds his hand in a deathgrip. Kakashi can feel his hairline receding.

He dice leaves Naruto’s hand, falls to the table, bounces, once, twice, then rolls, swaying on one of its edges, before it falls to one side and comes to a stop.

Their eyes lock onto the number displayed.

“No, it can’t be,” Sakura whispers, horrified.

“I’m fucking done,” Sasuke says and leaves his seat.

“HELL YEAH!” Naruto yells, jumping out of his seat.

Kakashi blinks, rubs are his eye, and leans forward. Just to check. To really make sure this is happening.

20.

Naruto managed to roll a natural 20.

“Add your Charisma modifier.” Kakashi reminds Naruto mid victory dance.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Naruto grabs his crumpled and ripped character sheet and scans for the correct number. “Umm so the total is a 25!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sakura plops her head on the table, defeated.

“I haven’t even made an attack!” Sasuke yells from the other room.

Kakashi can’t blame them for their reactions. After all the weeks of careful planning he had done, after all the character building and development of the story, leading up to the final, epic battle and…

Naruto talks their way out of it.

Again.

“The dragon is… touched by your eloquent speech. He decides he’d like to be friends even though he was trying to destroy you and your world a second ago. I guess.”

“Whoooo!” Naruto cheers. “Great fight guys, yeah? That was so much fun.”

Sakura glares at Naruto. There’s a crash from the other room, presumably from Sasuke throwing a fit.

Kakashi gathers his myriad of campaign note papers in front of him, then in a blur of hand signs sets them ablaze in a quick fire jutsu.

Time to start preparing for the next campaign.

[ramheavenandhell]

Last Christmas…

AN: Decided to write a cliché angsty/romancey Christmas fanfiction for you guys. I hope you like it :) Warnings: Rick/Morty, heartbreak and angst, but Happy Ending Summary: "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…" Maybe this year, Morty gets a nice present in return. (And no, this isn't a song fic.)

Last Christmas… Christmas was different this year somehow. Jerry had been decorating the house on the outside and inside and was more excited about the season than the rest of the family combined. However, that was completely normal. No, it had nothing to do with the childish and spirited family father. The problematic rather rested with the oldest and the youngest of the household: Rick and Morty. Though, if Summer was honest, this all had started last year already. She had no idea what exactly had went down between the two and at first, she had assumed that they had been in a fight. After last year's Christmas Eve, the two had been avoiding each other for a while. However, even after starting to act normal again a few weeks later, it was undeniable that whatever had happened had changed something permanently in their relationship. So, it must have been something more than just a petty argument. Summer was the only one who had even noticed this though and she tried to question her brother about it without any success. Getting her grandfather to share any information about it would be an impossible task – especially since this seemed to be some emotional stuff – and so she didn't even try to make the futile attempt. As such, she could only watch Morty constantly spacing out. It was obvious that while he had been holding it together the entire year that whatever had happened last Christmas was starting to resurface in his thoughts again. While the change was less subtle in Rick, he also acted slightly different and probably also couldn't help but be reminded of it again. If she would just know what had happened, she might have been able to help them, but as things were, the two would just have to deal with their problems themselves. Summer just hoped that they would get this resolved soon because it seriously bothered her to see them like this…

Again, Morty stared into nothingness as he sat on the couch, only being ripped out of his thoughts as his sister elbowed him gently in the side. He could read worry in her face and gave her a reassuring smile to show that he was fine…even if he didn't feel fine at all. He couldn't really help but think about last Christmas again, now that the festive days were returning. Last year he had wanted to give Rick a special present…but it was a mistake. Morty had given his heart to the man and was rejected rather harshly. "What the fuck, Morty! I'm you grandfather for fuck's sake! What's wrong with you?!" It had taken him such a long time to muster up the courage to confess his love to Rick and he had honestly thought that his feelings might be returned or he wouldn't even have attempted to do that. For a long time he had been searching for hints that his grandfather maybe loved him, too, and after some more disastrous adventures that they had been through, he had been convinced that his feelings hadn't been entirely one-sided. However, he had been wrong. And he had ruined their relationship because things weren't the same between them anymore after that. He wished that he had some sort of invention with which he could just erase last year's Christmas. Not only erasing Rick's memory of it but also his own. Surely, his grandfather had a gadget like that somewhere in the garage, but Morty hadn't really dared to look for it. He sighed once more as he wallowed in regret and self-hatred for having done something stupid like that and wondered how many years it would take before he would finally not feel like shit on Christmas anymore. Maybe that would never happen… For now, he would have to worry getting through this season while trying to act normal in front of the rest of the family. He wasn't doing a very good job though since Summer seemed to notice that something was off with him. Thankfully, she stopped questioning him about it. There was no way that he could tell his sister that he had confessed his undying love to their grandfather and sulked now because he was shot down. He couldn't ever tell that to anyone!

Rick was the last one to join the family at the table for Christmas dinner. He threw a quick greeting to their guests – namely Jerry's parents and that one dude that was also there over the last years, though he never got why nor did he care – before taking a seat. His eyes fell on Morty who sat right next to him and avoided eye contact at all costs, looking like he wanted be anywhere but here right now. Of course, Rick knew that it was solely because of his presence that the boy felt so uncomfortable. His daughter and the idiot were blissfully unaware of their son's squeamish behavior. It was probably for the better though. Last year, his grandson had told him that he loved him. And not in the cute way that grandkids love their grandparents. No, he meant in a far more intimate and romantic way. And Rick had…reacted rather harshly. Which was the reason why Morty was acting the way that he was now. The thing was that he hadn't really meant to hurt the boy and he really regretted that he had yelled at him like that. He was sure that it was for the best though, that Morty didn't really know what he asked for and that he needed to see that they couldn't do this. That it is wrong! However, seeing his grandson suffering through the entire year as he did, even if they still went back to their adventures together, made him think that maybe he was the one in the wrong this time. They hadn't talked about this since, but Rick thought that they really needed to. He wanted to clear this up properly and he'd do it this Christmas.

Morty wearily followed Rick into the garage. His grandfather had told him that he had a special present for him and needed to show it to him here. It eerily reminded him of last year, when he was the one who told Rick the same thing and gave him his heart right here only for it to be broken. Yet it was obvious that this was just an excuse to have a talk under four eyes with him. "Morty, we need to talk." Rick started. "About last year." Oh no! Morty didn't want to talk about that. He just wanted to forget that it had ever happened. Why did Rick have to rip open that old wound? "Please, Rick. Just don't…" "No, Morty. We are gonna talk about this and we're gonna talk about it now." Rick interrupted him. He quickly took a gulp from his flask before he began. "Listen, Morty. Grandpa doesn't give much of a crap about morals. Heck, I keep preaching to you how those are only stupid social constructs. But that doesn't change that there's laws on this planet and you're my grandson so this—" he was gesturing between them "—is not accepted. And—" "Yeah, I get it, Rick!" Now it was Morty's turn to break through his grandfather's monologue. "It's wrong and I'm gross. I know that! You're not telling me anything new here, Rick. And I'm sorry, okay? But I just can't help how I feel!!" The boy turned away and was angry with himself for feeling tears welling up in his eyes. Great time to get emotional like this and then right in front of Rick on top of it! Even if Morty tried to suppress it, Rick could hear a sob. Seeing his grandson cry was always something that he felt bad about, but this was just heartbreaking. It wasn't his intention to hurt Morty, he just wanted what was best for him and felt like he needed to get this clear. He needed to bring his point across that this wasn't just okay, that it wasn't accepted on this version of earth and that being together wasn't simple and wouldn't be all rainbows and sunshine like he thought Morty was probably expecting. However, it was a dumb assumption that the teen wasn't grasping the full impact that this sort of relationship between them would have. Rick knew that Morty valued morals and was always intent on acting "righteous" or behaving in accordance to the social norms that he grew up with, but he was aware of the consequences that being together with his grandfather would have. And despite knowing and even despite being given the cold shoulder by Rick one year ago, Morty still loved him. And that knowledge moved something inside Rick. Even if he had always kept telling himself that he didn't care about the boy, tried to drink himself into oblivion every time when his thoughts about his grandson wandered south, even if he lived in denial about his emotions towards him, he couldn't deny anymore that he liked having Morty around. He wanted the boy to be around him. He needed Morty. Fuck it, he loved him!! And he was done with pretending that he wasn't and holding back any longer! "Morty, look at me." The boy only shook his head and refused the request, his shoulders trembling slightly as he still tried to hold back anymore sobs from escaping. Growing slightly frustrated, Rick grabbed his arm and made him turn around to face him. However, Morty still didn't look at him, head held low and his eyes clenched shut tight as tears were streaming down his cheeks. Rick's fingers covered the wet tracks as he grabbed the soft round cheeks and angled Morty's face upwards. Whatever the brunet had expected would happen, this wasn't on his list. His eyes snapped open in shock as he felt something touch his lips and saw Rick's face right in front of him. After they parted again seconds later, Morty's brain was still short-circuiting. "Wha-wha…?" "W-well, M-Mo-Morty…" A slight flush appeared on Rick's cheeks as he became flustered over the emotional "crap" that he was about to say. "L-last year you gave me a-a very special present and I'm sorry that I reacted rather-that I was being an ass about it. So anyways, th-this year it's my turn make up for it and to-uh to give you a special present in return…i-if you still want me that is." Morty looked at him stunned and it took a while until what Rick had said was fully processed by his brain and finally reached home. When it did, a bright smile broke out on his face that made Rick's heart skip a beat and he flung his arms around his grandfather's neck, pulling him down in another kiss. Without hesitation, it was returned. Their lips slid together, moving in massaging motions, pressing so tightly together as if they never wanted to part again, as if they wanted to fuse together and become one. The teen was sure that he had never been as happy as this in his life. This was the best Christmas gift that he could have ever wished for. Everything that had happened last year was forgotten and he was sure that every Christmas to come he would remember this wonderful moment – he was going to cherish this precious memory for all eternity. After few minutes of making out, they pulled apart again, but Morty still held onto Rick. "I love you." He whispered dreamily, despite having to catch his breath again. He was so glad that he could finally say these words without feeling ashamed. However, what came next was an even better present. "I love you, too, Morty." Rick replied without stutter, hesitation or making an awkward face while saying it. It was honest. He really meant what he said and Morty could clearly see that in Rick's eyes. This year's Christmas was truly the best!

AN: This was a byproduct of being tortured by my coworkers with having to listen to 20 different versions of WAM's "Last Christmas" for several hours over the course of several days. And please don't feel offended if you like that song, but I have to say that I was so overexposed to it the last years that I started to develop feelings of aggression for it -_- Also sorry, that the story is so short. I still hope that you liked this little gift. Wish you all a Merry Rickmas!!

[lunaschild2016]

Worth Fighting For Chapter 20 - Across A New Divide

Rating: M (violence, smut, language, references to abuse and violence)

Romance/Tragedy

He was ruthless, cunning and completely committed to protecting his city but her arrival to Dauntless called everything he ever thought he believed into question. Duty and following orders were no longer enough. They both found more than they ever thought possible. They both found something worth fighting for. Eric/OC AU M Tragedy/Romance

@kenzieam@ericdauntless@jojuarez26@jaihardy@iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt@badassbaker@readsalot73@fuckthatfeeling@dani5102@beltz2016@beautifulramblingbrains@affabletimelady@irasancti@meganbee15@meganbee15@lauraaan182@gylisaa@scorpio2009@bookgirlthings@pathybo@violetsonthelam XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 20 - Across A New Divide

Eric

I leave Kat to shower, distracted and in thought as I walk out of my bedroom and back to join the others in the living room. My emotions all over the place and doubts running through my mind. I was only slightly less angry on the rage scale I had stayed at all through the night. Her words about trusting me there at the end had lightened that a little bit.

I was glad of that, fucking relieved really, that I could hear it ring true in her voice and eyes. I was also doubting things between us by the tone she had when she declared she didn’t think I would try anything.

It was said as if she believed it because there would never be a possibility of it. So did she really only want to be the friends that I had suggested what was feeling like months ago? Or maybe that confused her and in her mind because I said friends she was firm that nothing else would ever happen?

I am scratching my head as Zach puts a cup of coffee out for me and I slump into my seat.

“What did she say about the bath stuff?” He asks, nervously.

“Huh?” I look up at him and frown in confusion.

“The bath stuff I got….did she like it?”

I shrug “I guess, she didn’t say one way or the other.”

“Oh, ok. So did she give you any trouble about wanting to use the rubs on her ribs or in general?” Now his tone was worried and as he eyed me.

“No. I mean...not really. She says she trusts me so I guess that is good.” I mutter and take a drink of my coffee.

Chase chuckles a little. “Well, it ain’t a bad thing. But something tells me that isn’t the response you were looking for?”

“That isn’t it. It’s just...I was trying reassure her I wouldn’t try anything and she muttered in a firm but completely off tone ‘Believe me, I don’t think you would try anything’. It was like there was a whole lot more meaning to the words and the only thing I can think of is maybe...fuck...maybe, all she wants is to be friends.” I get out in a frustrated huff.

“Was anything else said?” Chase asked with a smirk at me.

I shake my head and frown at him. “No, I just told her to take her time and left. She did stop me before I could though and said that she really does trust me and sorry if I didn’t believe her before when she said it.”

Chase and Zach looked at each other, smirking before Zach shook his head and laughed. “Well this should be interesting to watch.”

“Eh, we will have to help them out here and there, but I agree.” Chase adds and picks up his cup of coffee to drink.

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” I grind out and feel the anger that had lessened slightly start to flare back up.

Chase sighs and shakes his head. “Ok, here is a tip for you. I wasn’t there when she said it but I can make a guess from knowing her as we are all coming to know her and where she came from. Her tone and what she said...had nothing to do with you really. Fifty credits says she said it because that is how she is seeing herself. As someone you wouldn’t try anything with.”

My scowl and anger are not helped by this at all. “Why the fuck not?”

“Jesus Eric. Just because she isn’t like the normal Abnegation doesn’t mean that she is going to come in here thinking she is the shit or seeing herself as desirable in that kind of way. She hasn’t had any practice with it and no interest either. Until now that is. I have seen the way she looks at you. Saw how she reacted to you in the training room. She has interest in you that way. But I am pretty sure based on what you are saying that she most likely doesn’t think you could or would be interested in her that way.” Chase gets this all out after rolling his eyes at me. I could also see a slight bit of pain in his eyes when he mentioned him seeing her reaction to me.

I groan as what he is saying hits me. Not that she feels that way but that she does and I can’t really do shit about it yet. “Well...fuck! What do I do with that? I don’t want her to not know I am attracted to her but dammit I can’t do anything about it right now either! And do you know how much torture it was just to hear her reaction to seeing my bed? She gave this little moan and blushed...and just...god damn this is hell. Is this what relationships are like? Because….I think I might fucking die of frustration here.”

I am ranting lowly, keeping an ear open for the shower….which was still going. Kat was taking me literally on the whole take your time thing.

Chase and Zach are laughing at my frustrated rant and wide eyes. “Yeah, pretty much all relationships are like that.” Chase smiles a little. “With the right person though it is completely worth the payoff.”

I sigh and put my face in my hands after setting the coffee cup down. “This is going to be a long six weeks.” I mutter into my hands.

“Tell me about it.” They both mutter at the same time causing me to crack a smile knowing they are lamenting already that my cranky, moody and violent outbursts are going to put some royal dampers on the next few weeks for them.

“And not just because you are going to become a colossal dick until you can finally…” Chase trails off as my eyes snap to his in a glare thinking he is going to make some crude joke about Kat and I. “Dude...you need to chill. I wasn’t going there with that. Maybe anyone else...but you should know..”

I should know it is probably hurting him even thinking of me like that with her and he cares for her just as much so wouldn’t say crap like that. 

Gods, I am such a dick about her.

“Sorry man. I don’t want shit said about her like that and we know it will be coming. I should know better that it won’t be either of you, ever.” I mumble out and take a drink.

He nods and sighs. “What I was going to say is that it is going to be a long few weeks until initiation is over in general. We still have some shit to plan for.”

Zach nods in agreement. We had let him know about Kat and what we determined when he got back from the clinic after being with Kat until she had finally gone to sleep. Thankfully Shauna, Zach and her sister had helped to convince her to accept the sleep aid that was also laced with some pain meds.

“We can start on that but I will have a better idea of what those plans might be after the council meeting today. The main focus will be for the upcoming fear sims but also working with Kat on her issues. If I can’t get her to keep her focus…” I shake my head trailing off.

“She has a damn good way of focusing, Eric. Can we get her to use that but not let the world know what she is doing? That is the question. Do we tell her we know? Does she even know that she is? If she doesn’t, wouldn’t it be better to not let her know at all and just coach her in ways to hide it?” Chase says all of this and it isn’t anything we all haven’t thrown out there all through the night while we were hashing all of this out.

It had been a long and sleepless night for all of us. We had alternated between getting things ready for the day, watching the cameras in the clinic and putting out ideas and questions. So many things had come out that each of us had been questioning about ourselves, the faction and the fucking plans ahead of us. So many questions we still hadn’t been able to come up with answers or plans for.

The one thing we were all firm about was we were going to make sure Kat was safe. That we hid or helped her hide her divergence. We were divided on what to do about her sister. We had no clue what to do, if anything, about the plans Erudite and Dauntless had.

“One step at a time I guess. Today we make sure Peter keeps to our little bargain and she makes it back home safe.” I get this out just as we all hear the water turn off in the shower.

Zach gets up and starts to cook breakfast and Chase looks to me worriedly. “You going to be able to handle going in there? Also, be prepared that she might refuse any kind of medicines now that she has had time to process and wake up a little.”

“I should just have Zach slip some in her fucking coff…”

“No. I won’t break her trust like that. You can do it if you are willing to lose the trust she has in you. I’m not. The only reason I felt even okay about it last night was because I could tell she knew Shauna was putting a lot more than sleep meds in that needle.” Zach called to me firmly from the kitchen.

“Fine.” I grumble knowing he is right. It wouldn’t be worth the argument or consequences even if I would love to know she was in less pain. “I will just try and reason with her and if that doesn't work I may just order her ass to take something.”

“Just tell her that we aren't giving her any of the stuff that would make her body slow to react. Considering what she will be doing today that would be stupid. Maybe appeal to her Abnegation and point out just like she doesn't want to see her sister hurting…”

“Her sister won't want to see her hurting either.” I grumble out and interrupt Zach. “Sounds like way too much work when I could just order her to take them and be done with it.”

Chase shrugs with a smirk. “Ok. Do it your way and just see how far that gets you in her graces when you are trying to woo her.”

I scowl at him. Not only because he is right but… “Did you just fucking say woo her?”

He chuckled and shrugged but turned his head along with Zach and I when we heard the door to the bathroom opening. I was already standing up when we heard Kat softly calling out my name.

I take a deep breath and grunt at Chase’s mumbled ‘good luck’.