#the actual reason for the contacts thing is because i couldn't pick between the two eye colours i really like both

[princekirijo]

POINTS ‼️‼️NEW RIKU ICON‼️ REAL‼️ GRAHHHHH HE LOOKS AWESOME 🔥🔥🔥

Ahh thank you Misty :3c

Here is the uh full icon for those who want to see it properly 👉👈

He's my silly little goose :3 my funny boy

Also uhm a bonus and a little lore drop I'd planning to make for a while undercut ehe

Tada this is Riku's actual eye colour! Much similar to Mitsuru's :3 He wears eye contacts throughout a lot of Captain AU's story and if you ask him why he will give you a different answer every time ehe

[everlastingserenitys]

WERE DATING NOW?

summ. sylus knew this was wrong, which was why he couldn't stop. you were his best friend, nothing more. and he wanted—no, needed to change that tonight.

pairing. sylus x f!reader cw. accidental voyeurism, p in v, fwb!sylus, kinda perv!sylus, masturbation, reassurance ?, kinda fluffy icl a/n I hate this fuckass color theme im sorry

Friends. With. Benefits.

That’s all Sylus and you were.

The day you two agreed to become friends with benefits was the day everything changed. You didn't really set some ground rules. He would just text you before coming over, you do your things and then he’ll leave.

But, sometimes Sylus would come home unannounced, which wasn’t a horrible thing…

Yeah, totally.

-

The one night you were feeling horny was the only night Sylus wasn’t picking up for god knows what reason. So you went for your backup option, which was calling in another man to satisfy your needs for the night.

Now it wasn't often you’d do this, but Sylus never found out, so it wasn’t a big deal since he wasn’t picking up.

You grab your phone from your nightstand and dial a random man you had from your contacts and bring the phone to your ear. The man picks up instantly and you tell him your little plan. He agrees and you silently congratulate yourself as you lean on the headboard of your desk, patiently waiting.

Some time has passed and the doorbell rings, indicating that your little fuck buddy was already here, what a quick entrance.

In a swift movement you hop off your bed and strut to the door, flinging it open.

“Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

Oh yeah, you’re going to have a lot of fun.

-

It was nine in the night, Sylus had just woken up from a deep nap and hadn’t checked his phone at all, but the second his fingers rested on his lockscreen was the moment he knew he was fucked.

His fingers kept scrolling along the hundreds and hundreds of messages you sent him, practically begging for him to come over, but what was he doing? Sleeping. The only day where he actually had time to rest was the same day where you needed him

An exasperated sigh left his lips, his fingers hovered over the call button as he quickly put on a shirt. But wait, it's way past the stage for him to be calling you before heading to your place. So instead, Sylus just grabbed his keys and drove over to your place.

After a quick drive, he parked in your parking lot and walked to your door, which was surprisingly unlocked. Sylus’ fingertips rested on the doorknob before he pushed the door open and got a whiff of your scent suffocating your house.

“swee-uh” Sylus’ speech got interrupted when he noticed another pair of shoes relaxing next to yours on the ground. He raised an eyebrow and walked past the shoes, making his way to your room.

The sounds of something filling your room intrigued Sylus to step closer and clo–

Oh.

Oh.

Sylus peered through the crack of your bedroom door and was surprised by the sight he saw.

You, getting railed like a fucking slut by some random man Sylus didnt know, but something told Sylus to stay put where he was.

Now, usually, he would never, ever, do this, but his whole body could barely move. His stupid ruby eyes kept darting between your breasts, to your face, to practically your whole body.

A strong feeling was growing inside him, he didn’t know what it was.

Sylus’ heart, and cock felt like it was about to burst, the sounds of your moans grew louder and that just made Sylus even hornier. His fingers trailed down his belt that was barely on and quietly removed it, as his eyes were locked on you.

Sylus’ fingers dug in his boxers and he sprung his cock out as his fingers worked on the dripping mess beneath him. Sylus’ heart was pounding faster and faster as he watched the man suffocate your–his pussy like he just won an award.

He watched intently, seeing what was making you feel so good that night, that you needed to call somebody else, was it because he was asleep? You could’ve just waited? Yet again, you didn't set any rules, but why did he feel something indescribable inside him?

With a final stroke, a quiet groan left Sylus’ lips. A spur of white mixture sprawled on the door in front of him and a quiet scowl left his lips, he quickly put his pants back on and watched as you were nearing release.

With one excruciating thrust from the man that was fucking you like a wild rabbit, both you and him came in sync. A wave of embarrassment washed through Sylus’ body, why couldn't that happen with the two of you?

As the two of you were getting cleaned up, Sylus made his way out your front door, pretending like he didn't hear and watch the whole thing. But as he was walking down the stairs of your porch, something compelled him to stay a bit longer.

So, Sylus stood in front of the door as he waited for you to exit the man out of your house. The cold breeze rushed through him as he rocked himself back and forth against your cement floor.

The sound of your footsteps echoing behind the door, awoke him from his daze, he stood there, as he watched the door fling open. The second you opened the door, both you and Sylus made eye contact with each other.

“Oh, Sylus?” your voice echoed through the neighbourhood.

Sylus nodded, and stepped past the man who was just leaving. Without letting the man say goodbye, he shut the door behind him and brought you to a fierce kiss. His rough, yet soft lips made contact with yours. He shoved his tongue deeper in your mouth as he savored every bit of you.

“Sy–what’s–” you attempt to speak but your speech gets interrupted with every needy kiss Sylus gives you. With one hand, his fingers slide through your hair and the other one lifts you off the ground like you were a piece of paper.

He walked you to your room as he continued kissing you, he kicked open the door and placed you on the bed, his large figure loomed over you when he pulled away from the kiss to look directly into your eyes.

“What was that man doing here?” Sylus spoke in a soft tone, his fingers tracing your jaw as he continued to look into your eyes, seeking for the answer, which he already knew.

“You know what we did, why would I be dressed like this?” you tease, wrapping an arm around his neck, pulling him closer towards you. But Sylus just let out a mocking chuckle before he pushed you away and slid his fingers across your silky robe.

“Tell me how he did it, how’d he make you feel so good?” Sylus whispered, his large hands cup on your knees and he slowly spread your legs apart.

A whine escaped your lips and you bucked your hips towards him, the friction of his rough, disheveled pants made contact with your bare thighs, and your grip on Sylus’ arm tightened.

“You seriously want more after he fucked you like that?” Sylus asked, a hint of teasingness and mockery laced his voice. You glared at him and he chuckled in response, pressing himself against you.

He was already hard, again, and Sylus rocked his hips against your robe. A groveled groan escapes your lips as you synchronize the same pattern on Sylus. He moaned in response and pulled away, pulling his pants back down to reveal his cock on display for you.

He stroked quick movements, letting his pre, drip down him, and after a few seconds passed Sylus draped the robe on your sides and pressed his tip against your already stretched out cunt. Sylus thrusted slowly, letting you enjoy the few moments before he might go crazy like an animal in heat.

“Did he go this slow or–ngh” Sylus’ pace quickened and it took you by surprise, just now his pace was like a sloth, now it felt like you were going to rip apart as his length shoved deeper into you, his hard tip kissing your cervix.

“Or this fast?” Sylus asked again.

“I…mmph” you try to keep up with the pace but your hips and whole body was aching, Sylus had so much stamina left in him he continued to fuck you like a wild rabbit. His fingers dug deep into your hips and your moans started to grow louder.

“Sy!” you whine, tilting your head back as pleasure washes through you.

“Tell me, which was it? I want to make you feel as good as the other man did.”

That sentence sent shivers down your spine and you couldn't help yourself to give him an answer. You shook your head, trying to deny the words that were coming out of Sylus’ mouth but he shook his head, and continued asking you what would make you feel good.

“Please, just be yourself–you feel…ngh so, soo, good!” you moan, a hint of something flashed in Sylus’ eyes and he thrusted himself deeper than he could, he was practically almost balls deep inside you and a groggy moan escaped his lips as he sent the last thrust in you, and came.

Right. Inside. You.

He pulled away and plopped on top of you. His lips immediately making contact with your face.

“Is it bad I need you more than just this little friends with benefits thing?” Sylus asked, pecking small kisses along your face.

You chuckled and slid your fingers through his hair, planting your lips onto his.

part 7 of untamed desires | sylus -> next work

[boyfriendtodeathconfessional]

A lot has been said of Lawrence and Ren's relationship, but I'm of the unpopular opinion that they didn't actually like each other.

They both had been chatting for an unspecified amount of time (about what, we're left to speculate), but based on their interests, they don't have a lot in common. Ren may have been a little shy, but he's a social butterfly compared to Lawrence. I find it hard to believe he could sit through more than a few of Ren's discussions of magical girl anime, and I imagine Ren would get bored of Lawrence's lack of engagement.

Add to it, in BTD2, in all of Ren's routes except one, he betrays Lawrence and gets him killed. It's easily the worst thing Ren does, and he does it to someone he's allegedly close to? Lawrence hardly ever drinks, and Ren invites him to a bar for their first meetup? These were two people who were grasping for any kind of connection. Ren was looking for anyone to collar, and his willingness to replace Lawrence with some rando MC proves this (Gato drew several pictures of what it would look like if Ren succeeded in collaring Lawrence. It goes poorly for Ren in hilarious fashion). Lawrence glimpsed beyond the veil, saw the Lovecraftian horror that was The River, and needed to find anyone he could relate to. Neither of them fit each other's bill.

Lawrence is a walking contradiction: he craves human contact while despising humanity. He surrounds himself with nature while living in the middle of the city. He embraces self destruction while still continuously coming back from The River. The meetup with Ren was a way for him to finally bridge that gap between himself and others or embrace The River fully. Either way, he's spared from having to make the choice himself: "I'll do anything you want!" you say. "I don't know what I want!" he says. No kidding.

Ren mentions the reason he liked Strade so much was because Strade was the only one who was ever kind to him, but is this true? His mother chose to keep him alive despite killing five of his siblings in their infancy. She lets him stay with her until he's old enough to run away because she what? Needed help with the housework? Besides, according to the BTD fandom, he has looks that could literally kill. If he bothered to look on Grindr he could easily find a sugar daddy who wouldn't treat him like a woodworking project.

No, Ren has it completely backwards. In spite of all the terrible things Strade had done, Ren was still able to see his good qualities, which was a first for Strade. He liked Strade not because Strade did nice things for him. He liked Strade because for the first time in his life, Ren felt needed.

Strade was a lot of things to Ren: captor, friend, confidante, lover, but there's also one dynamic of their relationship that rarely gets brought up: rivals. Strade could get people to like him in a way Ren couldn't, and making them feel heard was a big part of that. Gato said Strade hunted people who lacked confidence in themselves, and who does Ren pick for his own replacement/victim? Possibly the least confident person in the series canon: Lawrence.

The trouble is, Ren can't make Lawrence feel needed like how Strade made him feel. He can't make anyone feel needed, because, as I mentioned, he views people as interchangeable. He's trying to find a companion who will simultaneously treat him as a Strade-type figure and also feel an overwhelming need for him, and it won't happen, because of his difficulty in actually understanding others. What's tragic is this perspective was probably held long before he met Strade, and if the events of TPOF are canon, long after. -☢️

.

[easy-there-leftovers]

Doctor

Summary: Spencer's been there when you had been feeling rather inadequate, for lack of a better term. It's about time that you return the favor. (Written with early s2! Spencer in mind)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! (mentored by Hotch!) reader| cw: Spencer being unsure (is that a warning? lol), touchy reader, non canon case, vague timeline, reader and Spence being sapiosexual dumbasses, as per usual (weirdos) | word count: 2.3k

Budget cuts suck, especially if that meant doubling up and sharing a room with one of your colleagues. Or worse— your boss.

It's been a few months since your last GSW, and things haven't been much different. Or maybe it only was because you had been so out of the loop for a while that you hadn't noticed if it was. You hadn't changed up your routine nor your demeanor, so perhaps the others were just following your lead and brushing it off as nothing.

You still feel the occasional stares of literally anyone from your workplace, but you've learned to ignore it since dwelling on it never did you any good.

But you suppose something had changed.

Your relationship with your contemporary.

To be more specific, Dr. Reid had become more accustomed to seeking you out. Engaging in conversation with you more than the previous usual. It wasn't extremely unlike him to do so before, but his persistence has surely increased since your conversation at the hospital. Keeping to his intentions of having more dialogue between you two.

The same couldn't be said about the past week or two, however. While it didn't seem like he was completely avoiding you, you've noticed that you've had more opportunities to talk to Elle, JJ, and Morgan more than you have him. As if the overall frequency of his exchanges with everyone had somehow diminished.

You were going to find out why.

"Looks like we're doubling up." Your unit chief had briefed when you made it the shitty motel.

And your plan starts now.

Spencer feels an arm snake around his waist which makes him look up from his notes, and he's not surprised to see that it's yours. If anyone had to be making decisive contact with him, it would've been you.

"What is it?" He whispers carefully since Hotch is still talking. Used to your touch it at this point.

"Would you like to sleep with me, Dr. Reid?" He clears his throat instinctively.

Your indelicate remarks however, most likely never.

Since your little incident, he's discovered that you're less careful with your diction outside of work and it has certainly thrown him off but he knows that's just how you are. You and your forever unreadable expressions and contrasting sentiments.

Before he can answer however, Morgan's voice cuts through.

"I'm not sleeping with Reid." Everyone looks to him, except Garcia who immediately calls dibs on Derek, and he feels your arm slowly pull away.

Aaron looks from you to Spencer with that usual expression of his before exhaling deeply with crossed arms.

"I assume you're rooming with her?"

Seeing that you're no longer facing him, Spencer can only give your mentor a meek nod. Feeling the same wariness one would feel in the presence of someone's father.

The rest then picked their respective roommates and disband. Reminding one another to meet at the entrance tomorrow bright and early.

———————————————

Lately, Reid has become aware of a lot of things. Things that he never had to worry about before, but ever since Morgan had told him how you felt about the team, he had started questioning his place too.

He has never been ashamed of his intelligence. Far from it, actually. It's the one thing that he's ever been confident in and it's lead him to places that, he thinks, bettered him. Like coaching his high school basketball team, graduating with three PhD's, or getting into the BAU.

But he also fears that part of him alienates him from the others. That his intellect might be the very reason that will, or already, keep him from forming lasting and meaningful relationships. Even more troubling, that he might never live up to the expectations that everyone has of him.

Both as a colleague, and as a friend.

It's worse when the only person on the team that might not feel this way about him is you. Which then comes with its own set of problems.

You had been nothing but well-intentioned since the very start, practically shadowing him throughout everything. Being there to reinforce his confidence with your keen insight, your reflective encouragement, and your comforting presence—all things that made him feel seen.

But with the few times that you weren't there, it unnerved him. As if something was missing. Like it became an unshakeable habit to look over his shoulder and he would find you right there. So when you weren't there, it jus didn't seem right.

And he felt bad about it.

By the time that you had finished showering, you see Spencer with his hair still lightly damp from the one before yours. Head resting on his hand with a lone finger covering his mouth as if thinking deeply while sitting on the bedside's edge.

You take the opportunity to sit on the floor adjacent his tucked legs and he blinks out of his trance when he sees you lay your head on them. He doesn't mind, but he still feels a little bad.

And it's not about the shared single bed.

He felt as if he was taking advantage of your kindness. That by allowing himself to indulge in your brand of 'friendship,' he was effectively isolating you from the others. That for whatever reason, he just got lucky that you seemed to prefer him over them when he was arguably the most difficult to be with

That if you ever caught wind of his feelings towards you, it would ruin the current dynamic you had. He wasn't the type to catastrophize, he of all people should know the dangers of entertaining such thoughts, but lately your presence has had quite the influence on him.

Which is why he's been trying to make himself scarce until he found out how to deal with it.

You wait patiently by his legs. Gauging when he would finish his line of thought before asking, plainly and simply,

"How are you feeling, Spencer?"

In this room where it's just you and him, he's called 'Spencer.' No titles, no niceties, just his name. A luxury that no one else from the team has yet to earn from you.

He breathes out slowly when the pressure in his chest finally feels like too much, but he still can't seem to say what's on his mind. Worried that by telling you any of this, it would only add more weight onto your already abundant plate.

You trace your fingers on the skin that you can reach and he laughs a bit when it tickles. That seems to make you smile, and the sight makes his own grow ever so slightly before you continue,

"I'm not a doctor, nor do I have a doctorate like you—,"

"Three doctorates." He corrects and you roll your eyes playfully at that.

"Three doctorates. Fact of the matter is; I'm not a doctor but— I think I might be able to help."

You motion for him to lend you his hand, the one no longer holding his head, and he gives it to you willingly. Still feeling somewhat guilty when just that amount of contact does actually help him.

You know that you shouldn't profile your friends, but there's a reason why you're in the BAU and not anywhere else.

"So what are your symptoms?" You sense that this is a case that must be handled with a bit of humor, so you make that evident in your delivery.

He clears his throat and furrows his eyes, as if actually treating pretending that he was your patient before ultimately shaking his head with a tight-lipped smile.

"Actually, the symptoms aren't that simple." You hum at that, and get up to stand in front of him.

When he sees you get up though, he feels his hand instinctively tighten over yours. Worried that you were closing the conversation because he was being inarticulate, he goes to apologize but he feels yours squeeze him back before he can.

You notice a few stray strands of hair from your new vantage point. You carefully free both of your hands to tuck them behind his ears, and let one rest gently on the side of his face. Holding it in place, and allowing you to see his expression more clearly.

He feels a bit shy at the attention, but he finds himself leaning onto your hand with a confused expression. You breathe out in mirth and that only seems to confuse him even more.

"You better stop looking at me like that before I do something terrible."

He furrows his brows at that. Hand coming up to rest on top of yours. "Like what?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty boy." You continue to observe him, much to his chagrin. Assessing the situation before sighing out.

His hesitance from earlier told you everything you needed to know.

"Do you want to try telling me again, or would you like a diagnosis now?"

He looks into your eyes and sees that you're serious so he just nods slowly. Not really sure what to expect since there's no way that you could've gotten anything from him.

"My diagnosis says that you have 'intellectual schism syndrome.' Common to manifest in young geniuses like you. Characterized by a dependence on one's intelligence as their source of fulfillment, and yet simultaneously fear it as the root of their social isolation and relational difficulties."

You pause to gauge his expression once more before continuing.

"You may have been born with all the wonderful things that help you with this job, but you need to remember that's not the reason why people care about you. You can ask for help. Your worth as an individual isn't dependent on your perceived use."

You let the words hang in the air a bit before correcting yourself, "I mean, that's only when it comes to personal relationships. This job? Well—maybe we'll think about it before kicking you to the curb."

He lifts his face from your hold, still grasping your hand, before shaking his head. As if still not understanding something but he eventually finds the words the words to express that.

"That—That's not an actual syndrome; it's not recognized nor documented in any psychological or medical literature."

You scoff at that. "Yeah, I sure it hope it's not. I'm not a doctor, remember?"

He searches your face for an answer before breathing out incredulously. "Did you know that you have an incredible knack for saying the most terrible things?"

You smile at that. "Was I wrong?"

He think about the answer to that, before shaking his head 'no.' Because you're partially right, but he'd rather not correct you on what you're missing.

He looks down at your still intertwined hands, god he's been holding onto it for a while now, before quietly asking,

"Uh, how did you—?" He trails off. Not really knowing what he's asking.

You shrug. "You forget who you're working with. I notice these things, I notice you."

He flexes his eyebrows and thinks for a moment. "So what's your prognosis?"

You look to the corner of the small motel room to think before eventually settling on an answer.

"Only you can really find that out, Spencer."

You look back to see him already looking at you. "Your intelligence is an integral part of who you are, and that's why you're here. Your intellect isn't a barrier—it's a strength. So do what you will with that information."

"What if I can't find the answer?"

"Hm,"

Your legs are starting to get tired, so you move to get on the bed with him. Making sure that there's enough space for the both of you as you settle in. "You always have friends that can help you. Miss Jareau, Sir Morgan, Sir Hotchner, Miss—“

"Even you?"

The face he's making makes your chest feel tight, like there's a pressure building there and yet you don't know why. With his unusually shy behavior, and rounder eyes, it makes your usually impassive expression (to everyone else on the team, at least) soften.

"Especially me."

You pat the spot next to you as you recognize that you should've been asleep an hour ago. Telling Reid that you two should probably sleep so that you can make it tomorrow without being tired and he does just that.

"You don't think I rely on you too much?" You furrow your brows at that. Now looking at him from down on the bed.

"Not any more than you do sir Morgan."

He tries to see the point you're making but fails. So he turns to look at you.

"I don't really...rely on him."

"Exactly."

"...So I don't?"

"How about this," you can tell that being roundabout your answer isn't going to cut it, so you're going to have to switch gears.

"I don't think you do. But even if you did, I wouldn't mind. So if you find yourself ever needing, or wanting," you punctuate this with an earnest look into his eyes, "help from me specifically, in any way, at any time, just come to me—and ask for help. Say something like um, I don't know, uh—" you shake your head as you try to think.

'I need your help,' is too vague, you hear it all the time during cases. 'Could you do me a favor,' won't work either since it doesn't really excuse the both of you so—

"Can we look at this?", "I need you?"

You laugh. Actually laugh out loud at what you just heard. The words you just said practically blended into one another to the point where you don't even know who said what anymore, but that didn't really matter.

Spencer feels his face flush, and his volume increases due to his embarrassment. "Hey, I was just trying to—"

A loud knock is heard from the room's wall, followed by Morgan's voice.

"Newsflash, kids. Some of us are actually trying to sleep. Go argue about your theories later."

The boy-genius and you make eye contact before trying to stifle your laughter, you having a much harder time than the former before revisiting the conversation.

"You know what to tell me when you need me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Let's go to sleep."

You say goodnight, before turning your back to him so you can process what's going on. You wonder if the buzzing feeling you have would go away in time for an actual restful sleep.

You could use one on this case because it seems like the more you uncover, the more you're confused. Theories of all kinds swim in your head, ready to occupy your thoughts for a little while longer before hopefully sending you to a peaceful slumber.

Hotch is going to need you two ready and working.

And because of your nerves, you don't even notice Spencer turning his back to you too. Wondering if you had been feeling the same thing he was from the situation, from the contact, from the conversation, from everything.

Unlike you, he's for sure not getting any sleep.

[a/n] Every time I write for Spencer with this reader, he just can't catch a break-- Send in some ideas for the next part of the anthology if you'd like!! Like certain character interactions, dynamics, etc. I'd like to see what you're interested in seeing :DD

taglist: @crazychaoticizzy

Like my work? Consider tipping me!!

[ivystmblr]

“Minamoto Teru”

The Perfect Boy — Minamoto Teru

He's smart. Always perfect and answering correctly in academics.

Tests? Perfect. Quizzes? Perfect. Recitation? Perfect.

You can't help but be so grateful when he helps you out and tutors you in subjects that you're having a hard time with.

He's handsome, attractive. No wonder he has so many fans. I mean, who could resist such a handsome face?

His hair; Every strand was so soft to the touch that it felt like a gentle caress. You couldn't take your eyes off it and feel nothing but adoration for the golden hue that filled your vision.

The blonde tresses captivated your soul and forever imprinted itself inside your heart.

His eyes; The blue eyes sparkled like pools of sapphire, reflecting the sun in all of its brilliance. Every time you looked at them, there was a feeling of admiration and profound joy that you couldn't quite explain.

He is invested in his interests and engaging in conversation with him allows one to appreciate his positive outlook on life.

He takes action to bring his goals and dreams to fruition, and is resilient and self-sufficient in the face of adversity and challenge.

He has the poise and class to graciously accept every experience. He is encouraging and motivating of the people he loves and engages with.

He's kind. Some think that he's cruel when he rejects the confessions of the girls who have a crush on him.

But he isn't, not at all. He's not cruel, just straightforward but in a way you'll understand and not hate him for it. He'll apologize and then reject you.

He is caring, tender. He is honest about his feelings and empathizes with the struggles of his friends.

There's a reason to why you love Minamoto Teru but you can't seem to answer such a question when you are actually asked why.

It's because you can't pick which of the many things that Minamoto Teru has that makes you love him so much.

You watch him as he reads the contents of your love letter about your love for him.

As he finishes reading, he gives you a smile. You can't tell whether it's a smile of pity or if it's a sign that he accepts your love.

“I'm sorry—”

The first two words were enough for you to know what his response was.

That had happened years ago, if your memory was correct, maybe when you guys were still first years.

Ever since the confession, you guys have grown distant. From the occasional greetings in the halls to only pass by each other without making any eye contact.

You admit the sudden distance between your relationship was your fault. A day after the confession you were the one who would hide away from him out of embarrassment because you got rejected.

You avoided him like a plague.

Even when your classmates had told you that Teru was looking for you because he wanted to catch up with you and other things, you wouldn't go.

Even if it was Minamoto Teru himself who would walk towards you and try his best to start a conversation, you'd somehow be able to slip away from him.

Now, in second year, Minamoto Teru is still the perfect boy that you always admired ever since you guys first met.

I think back to when we were so close and I would wonder. What would have happened to us if the confession never happened. Would we have been more closer than we already were?

As the both of you pass by each other, a pair of blue eyes look back at the back of your figure. Once? No. Twice.

Unfortunately, you took no notice of the longing gaze.

A/n: This isn't really a long fic, I'm so sorry 🥹. I'm just adding plot to the reader and Teru's relationship. Man I'm a sucker for when the relationship has something like a distance and the guy is the one who is desperate to mend the relationship together again. Also I think I didn't really mention supernaturals/apparitions here 🫣 woopsy.

[aobhstypwriter]

Kang Sae-byeok headcanons

every other author has done this blah blah blah. enjoy

She ties your shoelaces for you

Is 100% a cat person. They're distant, untrusting and sceptical like her and she always enjoys hanging out with them, even if it means sitting miles away from one.

loves watching you and Cheol interact

Cheol made you and her play Minecraft with him and Cheol burned down your joint base as a prank. She was so annoyed. Also she's the type to go mining and actually play the game whilst you plant pretty flowers.

She's not very expressive, but she loves little touches - touching knees at the dinner table, brushing hands as you take the keys from her grasp, always sitting next to you/saving you a seat at functions

Was so nervous to meet your parents - but she was a charmer, and they loved her :)

always makes sure your phone is charged

pays attention to detail - knows your favourite foods, your favourite songs, and movies.

Is terrified of insects and small rodents - though she'd never admit it to your face, you did have to save her a few times from a rouge mouse or a scurrying spider.

smells like coffee and rain

Is usually always surprised at your affectionate actions, like she couldn't think of a single reason why someone would want to kiss her, let alone you???

Is super competitive. You took her and Cheol to the arcade once and had to let her win every. single. game.

casually plays guitar - it calms her. she doesn't have much experience but if she finds a song she wants to play she'll spend a whole evening learning the tabs.

You introduced her to 'the dark knight' and now it's her favourite movie. not just because you showed her it, but also because she thinks batman is just super fucking cool.

Loves mornings. Is literally always first up (except for the days she pretends to be asleep to stay in your arms just that bit longer).

loves when you wear her clothes, they always look so baggy on you due to her oversized style.

She's so tough to everyone but you. With you, she's the softest person in the world - still super quiet, but never left any space between you two when you were in the same room - always embracing you or making contact in some way.

Talks to you late at night about her scars as you trace them with your fingers

is such a weird sleeper. She might kick you out of the bed, or wake you because she can't sleep, or mumble something indecisive as she dreams.

brushes your hair for you and puts it into pretty styles

Cheol always teases you two. One night, he even asked what all those 'weird noises' were coming from your room. You two avoided all his questions for the rest of the day and made a note to be a little quieter next time.

Regularly takes you and Cheol to play laser tag together after learning how good of a team you made.

Only wears one piece of jewellery - a simple ring that you got her for her birthday.

She's quiet when people ask about you - not because she is embarrassed, but because she is protective over the secret, calm life you three share with each other. The things you say and do are so valued and private to her that she found it hard to openly talk about your relationship.

Fits in well with your family, her humour matches theirs pretty perfectly. she really enjoys having a family dynamic both with them and you and Cheol, after not having anything like that for so long.

Is very sassy. totally a sarcastic person, and always pokes fun at you/makes jokes through it playfully. ("I hate you" "Not what you were saying last night")

Loves the rain - you'll sometimes catch her up at 3am, sitting by the window just watching it fall.

Got you a record player for your birthday, and spent ages picking out vinyls you'd like.

makes you packed lunches when you go to work

pretends to not like Kpop but you caught her singing Russian roulette in the kitchen over and over...

loves winter and snow!!

whilst you shower she brushes her teeth and vice versa

Loves long walks in the woods with you

Is an insanely dry texter and refuses to use slang, always typing in full words. she'll always reply like 'okay.' or 'yes.'

her favourite thing is her moments just lying in bed with you, whether sleeping or just being there together, she cherished it deeply and almost always made you late in the morning.

loves cinema dates, she doesn't feel like anyone is watching her and can be way more affectionate because of this.

always wears a suit to formal events/dinners, and will without hesitation give you her jacket if you get cold.

[constantcrying]

Anger is a secondary emotion.

m!yandere x gn!reader

TW: obsession, some violence

This'll be my first post! If you have any feedback, I hope you'll share it.

He's trying. Honestly he is. He's putting in the work, biting his tongue and keeping his fists clenched. He'll never pick another jealous fight or cause a scene for the rest of your lives. He'll stop taking souvenirs from your home after every visit. Maybe he'll even go to therapy and unpick the fucked up weave of his childhood to find the origin of his every maladaption. Who knows, he might come out of this rough patch a better human being.

Promises between the two of you are worth something. You always say what you mean, do what you say. That consistency is another thing he loves about you, another one of the countless reasons he couldn't bear to lose you. It was why the look on your face that day had terrified him, as you confessed you were sick of his shit and struggling to be his friend—you meant it when you said you would go no-contact because he was obsessive.

It was bad enough being relegated to a mere friend after two years of adoring you. What was he supposed to do if you left him altogether? As much as he hated sharing your time and attention with the rest of the world, he couldn't bear to lose his humble slice of it. Before he met you, he hadn't cared so deeply about anything or anyone. He hadn't known what to do when he fell for you, except sink his teeth in and never let go.

Just the thought of life without you made him so sick, he fell to his knees on the spot. He fought his shaky voice and managed to utter an apology, begging for a chance to correct himself.

He isn't good with humility or patience or prostration. But he is honest. He does love you. He'll do anything for you, even act right.

You knew him well enough to believe his words. You also (rightly) pitied him. In the end you agreed that if he cleaned up his act, you wouldn't cut him off.

For now, he's on probation, seeing you once every eight days or so. He's not strong enough to go longer than that without being near you. In between those pressure control days, he journals, meditates, and reads self-help books. He'll even exercise more than he ever did before, because studies claim that it helps with emotional regulation. He thinks it's all stupid. He hopes it works and you think better of him. He continues this way for months.

The result? He isn't biting off your male friends' heads anymore. He isn't trying to monopolize your time. He doesn't obsessively check your location and text you like crazy. A touchy friend says hi to you at a cafe, and he doesn't get angry at them for interrupting and hugging you, he just says hi back. It's actually pleasant to hang out together in public again. For you, it's like the friend you made so long ago has actually come back. You don't ever say it, but he thinks you might believe he's actually over you.

He forgives you for that, and for the threat of leaving. He knows your peace is important to you, so you just said what you thought was best. And him...he'll stop with the outbursts, bury all of the feelings he's wrestling with. See? He changes for you. How many of your ex friends and lovers can say the same?

But there's nothing you can do about your missing possessions ex post facto. He still struggles, like anyone with bad habits. There's always an urge to come closer to you, to cradle you to his chest, to kiss you stupid. Just...let him keep the chapstick and the t-shirts, at least. He can tide himself over with the lingering scent of your favorite products.

And, of course, the anger remains simmering under his skin. It comes in waves, he notices, after every doubt and concern. Your casual smile at another person, for a split second, makes his gut churn before the heat of rage washes over him. After he sends a text you don't respond to, his heart sinks, and then it catches fire. He's always scared first. Maybe the journaling isn't so stupid if it can show him these patterns.

The problem is, he can't kill the source of his fear unless he can have you all to himself. That's not happening anytime soon.

So he's still struggling his way through your time together. You hang out like normal people, having dinner at a new restaurant before strolling down the street on a cool summer evening. Almost no one is outside, creating the sense that you two exist in your own little pocket dimension. You decide to go down a little alleyway, a shortcut that never presents any problems.

Somehow, a throw-away comment of his makes you laugh, and he wants to take the sound and inject it into his veins. The glory of your approval is bittersweet. He dreads the way this night will end: with you going to your place instead of coming home with him. It is all he can do, not to break the unspoken barrier between you. He wants to be optimistic. He wants to say that it's enough if you're happy, beside him right now.

As if you couldn't be happy elsewhere. As if he could be.

He can't handle thinking this way anymore, so he looks away. Just for a moment. Just to take some breaths and be something close to functional.

That's his big mistake.

The second you cry out, he turns back. You've been knocked to the ground by some staggering man, who trips over your leg and lands against a trash can. He must have come from the bar down the road because he reeks of bottom-shelf liquor.

"Son of a bitch!" The man growls. "Watch it! Watch where you're fucking going! You think you own the fucking street?"

"Fuck you!" You respond, trying to push yourself up off the ground. You hiss and stop, bringing your hand up to see that the palm is a scraped mess.

The drunk man mumbles some more curses at you and, in a fit of dionysian inspiration, kicks you.

It's not a hard blow. He's hammered, and totally out of shape besides. And maybe he never meant to hurt you at all—maybe he's just being childish and weird, his inhibitions drowned by a night of heavy drinking.

It doesn't matter to your friend.

His body has moved, he realizes, as he stares down at a pulpy mess. It used to be a face. His knuckles are raw, split from overuse. It feels like nothing at all. You're hurt, though, and the perpetrator is still breathing, so he needs to do something about that.

Without a hand gripping his collar, the drunk man splatters on the ground. He doesn't have the wherewithal to protect himself from further attacks, so with no resistance, your friend can just swing his foot into a perfectly vulnerable stomach. He does. He does it again. And again. And in the middle of this, even in his high-running emotions, he finds a sense of clarity that he's rarely afforded. Finally, someone pays the price for touching you. What a relief it is to have something nice and solid absorbing all the rage that he's always stuffing down.

You have apparently been calling his name nonstop. He only notices now as he's being yanked back by the arm. Like a spell is wearing off, he hears your voice. You sound far away, at first, the way you do in dreams. As he becomes aware of his pounding heart and aching knuckles, your muffled voice becomes clear.

"What the hell are you doing? Stop! You'll kill him!"

He's obedient, if you recall, so he stops. He turns to you, panting and shaking out his hand. Strangely, you flinch and back up. Your eyes are wide, your mouth pressed shut.

You've...never looked at him that way. He's irritated and embarrassed you, but nothing he's done has ever scared you.

He should worry about this, but he can't help smiling. You're so cute when you're frightened. You belong in his arms, where he can keep you safe.

He pulls you into him and squeezes you tight. As much as you do tremble, there's not an ounce of resistance from you as he does this. You are having the same epiphany is him right now—that he would never hurt you, that anyone who did would pay sevenfold.

But while he is imagining himself as your knight, you're thinking of all the strangers and friends who may be unkind, however briefly, to you. You're thinking of how sharp this man's memory is and how casually you complained about exes or classmates or coworkers when you thought everything was okay.

"It's okay. You're safe," he whispers into your hair, relishing the close contact.

He's going to stay good for you. It'll be easy now, knowing where to put all the excess energy.

[vhstown]

miles away

— 1610!miles morales x gn!reader

summary: Long distance is hard — even more so when your boyfriend's mom is Rio Morales.

warnings: fluff, spanish that is hopefully right??? (pls feel free to correct if not)

word count: 2k

a/n: worst eboy known to man. another miles one-shot i thought of way too late at night lmao my boy miles is STRUGGLING somewhat edited

convention boy is online.

Miles was active: the cute boy you'd met at a Brooklyn science con last year and had been talking to for the past few months — your boyfriend? He might as well be, if it weren't for the absurd distance between you two. You almost missed the call icon with how fast you tapped it, buzzing with anticipation at the thought of speaking to him again; you hadn't talked properly in so long you almost thought he changed numbers.

Riiiiiing... Riiiiiing...

You stared at your own reflection, which was frowning back at you as the call rang for longer than usual. "Convention boy" (you'd definitely have to change that soon) was probably just busy, but your day had been infinitely boring, and you really wanted to talk to him. The both of you had chatted pretty much every day after you left Brooklyn, and despite the time difference, your calls went on for hours, making conversation about school, art, the science convention you were both forced to go to, how you almost got run over for the hundredth time — nothing and everything.

Miles probably knew more about you than your actual friends. You had jokes that nobody would be able to understand even if you tried explaining them, thousands pictures saved of each other, lots of random games you played together (that you always seemed to win somehow) and so many messages where you were flirting like you were in a middle school relationship; embarrassment was a foreign concept in your chat logs. The only thing you didn't have was... Miles himself.

He was in Brooklyn, probably the most exciting place right now. Maybe it was for the fact that Brooklyn had Spider-Man, or you were getting sick of living with your parents. Either way, you were glad you were getting out of here soon; your parents hadn't told you much, but you knew you were going to New York for school. That meant you'd be closer to Miles. Maybe you could even meet up — if Miles picked up, that is.

Beep, beep, beep!

The line went dead, and you were left staring at your own string of messages. They were read, but there was no response; he was ignoring you. Did he just... give up on you, or something? Was he no longer interested? Surely not... Should you try calling again?

He was offline now, and you flopped on your bed with a groan. It had been a whole week since you'd even texted — surely he'd let you know if something was up? It was late in New York right now, but that hadn't stopped him before. Maybe you'd try again tomorrow; he couldn't be available for you all the time.

That didn't stop you from being petty, though.

Missed voice call at 10:29PM

k Read 10:31PM

You gritted your teeth when you saw that it had been read, stopping yourself from typing another text as you rolled on your side, throwing your phone out of sight. Maybe you should ghost him — okay, you were definitely just being petty. He could still have a reason for being radio silent for so long that you just didn't know about.

The lack of his voice or even just a "hey" made you miss him, though, and the pillow you held just made your arms feel more empty than usual. You were being a little unreasonable, but you hadn't exactly had the best week. Maybe you should leave his contact name as it was, because right now it seemed like he didn't want to be anything more than some kid you met at a convention. And you thought he was supposed to be your boyfriend—

Bzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt! You reached for your phone, a preview of your own face coming up on screen. "convention boy" — he was video calling you? That was weird; as much as you did video call, he was always reluctant to turn his camera on, and he never started them. He was always "on a run" or on low battery or something; maybe he wasn't today? You realised you'd been staring at your own face for too long, scrambling to fix yourself up a little and accept the call before you missed it.

Miles' face appeared on screen; he had his headphones on, brows drawn together and eyes fixed somewhere else for a moment, before he looked back at his phone. He gave you the tiniest wave and that wonky smile that always made your stomach flip.

"Hey," you muttered, hating the fact that you probably didn't sound as mad as you wanted to be. "What's up with you? You okay?"

Miles just nodded silently, giving you another smile that looked more like a grimace before glancing off to the side again. Weird.

"...Are you sure?" you asked again, raising an eyebrow at him. Whatever Miles was trying to convince you of was completely thrown out the window, his lips pressing together in debate before he mouthed something. You couldn't make it out.

"Uh, what?" You squinted at the screen, your brows drew together even more in confusion.

"I'm GROUNDED," he mouthed again, his own brows raising to emphasise what he was trying to say. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

"You're GROUNDED?" you mouthed back, trying to keep the teasing smile from spreading across your face.

It didn't help, Miles' eye twitching a little in embarrassment as he mouthed back "YES!"

"So you're like, grounded grounded?" you continued to mouth, making Miles narrow his eyes at you. "Like, actually grounded?"

He didn't seem to entertain your mockery, just crossing his arms at you and moving away on his chair. His phone appeared to be propped up on his desk, and you caught a glimpse of his textbooks in the corner.

You gave up, rolling your eyes. "Fine, fine, but you can't like, speak at all?"

He shook his head, before you heard his door creaking open. The camera immediately went black as he shoved his phone underneath the textbooks before you had a chance to say anything.

"Mijo, what are you still doing up?" You could recognise the voice as his mom's. Oh boy.

"Uh, just studyin', ma." You could tell he was lying by the way he was speaking, but you stayed silent despite his headphones, hoping his mother didn't catch on.

"You better be studying Español, then." Miles laughed awkwardly in response, but you couldn't tell if it was a joke or a threat. He'd only ever referred to you as a "friend" to his mom, so you turned off your camera just in case, hoping Miles had some God to pray to in the mean time.

"Yeah, uh, estoy estudiado—"

"Estudiando", she corrected, with rapid execution. You decided she was scarier in Spanish, and Miles seemed to as well, murmuring something in apology you couldn't catch.

You decided to look through your notifications while Miles was keeping his mom at bay to see that he actually had texted you back after you sent that very creative message.

sry im grounded

i dint mean 2 ingore u

dnt be mad pls :(

He must've resorted to calling you. At least your pettiness had worked.

"Estoy estudiando..." (I'm studying...) you heard Miles continue carefully. "And tired, so I'll go to bed soon."

"That light better be off, niño," (boy) she replied, and you heard the door faintly creak again. A few moments passed before you heard Miles' chair move and the door very quietly shutting all the way before he retrieved his phone and looked down at it from his lap. You had no idea what on Earth Miles had done to get grounded, but the way his mom spoke to him and the worried expression he was wearing right now didn't tell you anything good.

Miles looked back at his door for a second longer before picking up his phone, hesitantly preparing to say something. If it weren't for your own tension, you would've probably laughed at the way his face looked from that angle.

"Why's your camera off?" you heard him whisper, his worried expression still stuck in place.

"Do you really need to see my face?" You decided to tease anyway, despite his predicament, getting a sigh out of him.

"Ba—" He winced as he caught himself, eyes automatically trailing to his door again. Miles was lucky he couldn't see your amused grin. Baby? Babe? Hopefully not basta—

"Please?" he mouthed, almost looking hurt.

You turned your camera on so quickly it was almost embarrassing. You also prayed it was dark enough for him not to see the blush burning away at your cheeks; you just couldn't say no when he looked at you like that.

"Thank you," he nearly whispered. He let out another breath, shaking his head and smiling before mouthing something you couldn't make out.

"Huh?" you asked way too many times as he tried to mumble it a little louder. Both of you were too stubborn to end the call, so it was like playing charades, but with someone who really sucked at charades. He was pointing to his face, and then at you, and then trying to draw it out in the air.

"Just text me," you sighed, letting out a slight chuckle at his defeated expression.

you look cute

Your stomach flipped, cheeks tingling with warmth again as you stared at the text message for far too long, almost forgetting Miles was in the corner of your screen.

"...Thanks, you too," you mumbled out, hoping you didn't sound too weird over the call. "You sure you don't wanna just text...?"

na

wnt2 see ur face

n hear u speak

A part of you wanted to decline right now out of sheer self respect; you were so hot in the face by his... simple words that the darkness of your room definitely couldn't hide how flustered you were.

"Fine," you murmured, trying to keep your eyes on the screen as he watched you. "Can't you at least try to text properly, though?"

Miles frowned, and you could hear the gentle tap of his fingers on the screen as another text followed.

tryin 2 keep up w u gimme a break

The two of you shared a smile before you talked for a bit through this awkward system. It was good enough for now; at least Miles didn't have to watch his back so often.

ur cute

"You already said that..."

cutie

"Dude." Miles seemed to forget you could see him, sporting the biggest, stupidest smile on his face as he scrambled to keep texting you.

dont call me dude

my pride

thought we were passed that

past*

convention boy is typing...

hol on gank is txting me

"Gank...?"

romm mmate

You decided to let it be, watching Miles' cheeks puff with air as he switched over to text his "romm mmate". It was taking a little long and you didn't want to start missing him when he was right in front of you (albeit just on your screen) so you decided to talk anyway.

"Uh, there's something I wanted to tell you," you started, and Miles' eyes flicked upwards for a second, kind of like if you were actually sat opposite him.

"I'm moving states soon — for school." He raised an eyebrow, the tapping of his fingers slowing down a little. "New York. I don't know where exactly, but I should be getting an email soon? I was thinking maybe we could like... meet."

Miles stopped texting entirely, eyes wide as a grin spread across his face.

"After you get uh, un-grounded."

The smile faded just as fast. His eyes fell in defeat, lips twisting awkwardly as he got back to texting "Gank".

"I haven't checked my emails in a while actually, let me see..."

You scrolled through your email— well, it was a shared email (an email you often deleted a lot of school-related stuff from.) An email you'd missed ages ago caught your eye; you assumed it was from the school you were supposed to go to, the sender titled "Ms. Weber."

"We would like you welcome you with open arms to our academy..." The email bored you with its formalities and packing list and many many flourished attachments. You didn't read through it properly — most likely because you didn't want to face the fact that you might actually miss your home here.

What caught your attention, though, was the school name; it was in Brooklyn. Miles was in Brooklyn.

"Miles — the school's in Brooklyn, that's even better!" You couldn't hide your giddy smile, Miles' eyebrows raising in interest as so many thoughts swirled through your head. You could actually meet up again. Maybe you could even go on dates that weren't to do with science conventions. Maybe you could actually be a couple.

Bzzt! Miles' text appeared at the top of your screen.

what school is it?

"Uh..." You paused, unintentionally dramatically as you checked the name again. "Brooklyn Visions Academy."

"WHAT?!"

Miles' mouth went agape as you saw him roll back on his chair, bringing his face towards the camera to look at you almost hysterically. You were about to ask why he was so taken aback before—

"¡MILES! ¡¿CON QUIÉN ESTÁS HABLANDO TAN TARDE?!" (WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO THIS LATE?!)

Maybe your meet-up would have to wait a little longer.

🕸️🔭🎧

omg this was ... longer than expected anyways i could not get this idea out of my head haha i wrote it partly for myself and my friend chewy (who helped me w the summary ily i suck at em) and now its for u! hope u enjoyed (also if the spanish is weird pls correct i literally take spanish as a subject but i suck)

reblogs appreciated as always i get so happy when ppl reblog lol <3 catch the rest of my atsv stuff here!

[matrixbearer2024]

Wouldn't it be funny if there wasn't really much of a difference to the random amount of skills the Stan twins have between Canon and Modernity genuinely because they're just that cracked?

Like, I've seen so many HCs about Ford being good at so many random things because of his interdimensional travels and I really agree! Thing is, I don't see that changing even with both my AUs. My timelord twins AU is understandable, and frankly you'd pick up loads of weird tricks after living as long as Doc(Ford) has been. But when I look over at my modernity AU the reason for Ford's skill chameleon is just "Holy shit HI STANLEY!"

Cuz imma be so fr, in the modernity AU- you leave Ford in a library nook hobbit hole with a stupid ton of books + ample food and water HE WILL BE FINE. He would honestly just stay there and be as happy as a clam. His introverted ass would love being left alone with his books and if he got bored enough you can bet he would sooner go out exploring the forest and journaling or trekking than wherever there's clusters of humans.

Stan on the other hand is literally the life of the party. Put him anywhere boring and suddenly context matters not everybody's going to have a hell of a time and go home happy. He's that guy who you can drop anywhere and I mean anywhere and this man will walk out having made at least one friend. They couldn't be even more polar opposites.

But they're polar opposites that are hilariously joined at the hip. Where one is the other usually follows.

So when Stan does nearly anything- Ford's usually dragged into it after enough teasing or goading(Stan's smart enough to know he doesn't want to destroy his mental trying to compete academically and it's generally just not his forte no matter how hard he tries but Ford is unfortunately too competitive for his own good).

Chances are unless Stanford's really into it, he's not as good as Stanley(i.e. most contact sports) but props he still tried and kept it up for a while until he just decided it really wasn't for him. Case and point judo which they started at 12, Stan has a black belt(1st degree, and it took him only 4.5 years) and Ford only ever got up to brown(took him 5 years) before calling quits.

Stanford is dense and his fight/danger sense is painfully nonexistent compared to his twin unless said blatant danger slaps him in the FACE.

I want to say the degree I have it for them in the AU borders OOC but honestly if Ford canonically had a situationship with a dream demon he didn't realize was dangerous despite the many warnings I FEEL LIKE THIS IS ACTUALLY THE BARE MINIMUM AU WISE.

Anyway, I have plans for the random things they can do or like entertaining but I'd love to see thoughts on my random shitpost at god knows what hour LMAO

I promise I'm working on the drawings for the blog but I really wanna ramble about the insanity swirling in my brain because of these guys.

OH YEAH I HAVEN'T EXPLAINED FIDDS' STUFF YET- chat pester me about it more because I keep forgetting my brain rots too much on the two duracell blorbs in my headspace.

[sophieinwonderland]

hey sophie. there's been a lot of sysmeds fakeclaiming my mutual @/snowchester-system for being a RAMCOA survivor and pro-endo. i thought sysmeds liked dx'd survivors

I got this ask over a week ago. I wrote up this draft the same day but I held off on posting it. Snowchester has now been revealed to be an anti-endo bait account organized by a former r/systemscringe member.

This isn't at all surprising to me.

Below is what I wrote at the time but never posted:

----------

I'm sorry. I'm not going to be weighing in on this.

As much as I want to stand by survivors in general, that account hasn't been up to two weeks and I'm seeing more red flags than a Soviet parade.

I would be suspicious of the claim to be diagnosed with ASPD at 15 when it's in the diagnostic criteria that you can't be diagnosed if you're under 18.

They claim that this is because their team decided they were a special case... but does that happen? Do doctors just decide to flat out ignore the criteria for a disorder in the DSM and diagnose it anyway even when the criteria isn't met? Because I've never heard of this happening.

The reason you don't diagnose certain disorders in minors is because symptoms of personality disorders could be things you grow out of. And especially if you're talking about someone who was literally just removed from a traumatizing situation, any rational person would realize that's likely to contribute to their behavior. The RAMCOA history should never be a reason to say "this is actually a super special case and we need to fast track their ASPD diagnosis." It should be a sign that you need to slow down and give them time away from their abusers to actually grow and process their trauma before diagnosing them with a lifelong personality disorder.

But fine, doctors are human, and humans are fallible. Maybe they shouldn't ignore a disorder's diagnostic criteria but I suppose it's technically possible they did anyway and diagnosed this when they shouldn't. Concerningly though, the user claims their "team" decided this, meaning multiple doctors were in on this bad decision.

I also find the mention of being diagnosed with "highly complex dissociative identity disorder" to be a bit suspicious as well since that's not a medical term. But again, let's say it's fallible doctors. It's technically possible they picked up a community term and just ran with it.

I mean, "multiple personality disorder" was never in the DSM, but it was commonly called that by doctors. (It was just called "multiple personality" in the DSM. Calling it "multiple personality disorder" created the weird misconception that it was a personality disorder when it was always categorized as a dissociative disorder. And I will find any excuse to mention this that I can because it's my favorite piece of DID trivia.) So yeah, technically possible.

Meanwhile, they're in the US witness protection program in Mexico. Something which, I suppose, could happen in the absolute most extreme cases if the feds decided nowhere was safe in the US, but is pretty difficult to setup since it involves cooperation between multiple nations now. Which is why witness protection doesn't usually relocate to other countries.

The fact that they're confessing to being in witness protection means they're already ignoring witness protection guidelines. Yeah, even if you are on an anonymous account, do you really think a dedicated hacker couldn't find a way to track you down?

What's worse is them mentioning that they're in contact with some of the other kids from the same cult, because THEY REALLY SHOULDN'T BE! Especially if this is an organization that is so sprawling and dangerous that Witness Protection moved them to another country, something which Witness Protection wouldn't normally do.

And at this point, I'd kind of prefer if they were lying. Because either they've made everything up... Or they are violating their witness protection deal and endangering not just their own life, but the lives of the other survivors they've kept in contact with. Because if somebody did track them down, they could then access their other social media accounts to track down the others.

----------

So that was the end of my draft as it was written. (The only edits I made being to add emphasis to certain words and correct grammar.)

I wonder if I did the right thing by not posting it. If I had, I might have been able to keep people from buying into very blatant lies.

But... I was concerned about the 1% chance.

What if they weren't lying? What if this was a real person who just happened to have literally the worst doctors in the world who blatantly ignored the diagnostic criteria of their patient? Who diagnosed them with disorders that were community-made terms? What if Snowchester really was just that stupid as to reach out to the other children from their cult? Because let's face it... kids can be really stupid sometimes.

Maybe the reason the story sounded so unbelievable wasn't because it wasn't true, but because literally everyone involved was just that unbelievably stupid and incompetent. It could happen. Sometimes in life, you run into people, even those with medical degrees and those that should be professional, who commit malpractice or are ignorant of things they shouldn't be.

So I held off, not wanting to risk fakeclaiming someone who could be telling the truth, however incredibly slim the possibility was.

Now, the problem with liars is that it can be incredibly hard to take anything they say seriously.

They claim that they organized this with u/Pomme-Pomme, the former owner of r/systemscringe. Is this true? I have no idea. It seems impossible to tell for certain. This could be yet another lie to cause infighting in r/systemscringe, since Snowchester seems to just be in it to create chaos.

But if they are telling the truth now, I just want to take a moment to comment on how hilarious the reasoning is for them going rogue from that group!

Hun, if you believe RAMCOA is an antisemitic conspiracy theory... why were you citing the ISSTD?

You do realize they're the group responsible for the so-called conspiracy theory, right?

If this is true, this is such an epic r/leopardsatemyface moment. Of course there was a falling out from you citing the group of doctor that you people have been demonizing and painting as conspiracy theorists the last year!!! How are you surprised by this???????

Anyway, this just leaves me with one final question for the anon. A question I've had in the back of my mind for the past week.

Was this you, Snowchester?

Because it feels like you. Or maybe someone from the same group.

On the off chance this was just a random person fooled by Snowchester, I'm sorry it turned out how it did...

But this ask just feels like an attempt at baiting me into this conflict.

And if it was... were you disappointed when I didn't respond?

You should know that I've ran my own anti-endo parody blog and have infiltrated an r/systemscringe Discord server. If you confused my willingness to give the benefit of the doubt with gullibility and picked me for an easy mark, I'm sorry to inform you that you've sorely misjudged me.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hi love! I haven’t been online for a hot sec but the scream I SCRUMPT when I saw that Dogs: Bullets & Carnage was still available for the au prompts!!! I’m literally down for any headcanons and any AUs with the lovely characters because I don’t know anyone else that knows of it so I want to say pick your poison 😭😭 but if I must choose one for the event, maybe a coffee shop AU? The characters have been through too much I just need an AU where they get to experience soft cozy vibes instead of whatever’s going on in canon 🫶🏻

Thank you so much for your time and thoughtfulness in penning your work for us! Please feel free to pick any other available AU if it strikes your inspo more than this one. Tbh foaming at the mouth for any thoughts about our beloved stray dogs howling in the dark… 🤍

Okay, so I admit that this is no longer on my fandom list. It's been a while since I've revisiting the manga and there really wasn't much interest in it, so I did remove it. However, I love coffee shop/cafe au's, I do love this fandom, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to write this! Thank you so, so much for sending this in and, though they are late getting to you, I really hope you enjoy the headcanons!

In a very complete change of pace for me, I gotta say that I agree so hard with the asker for this one. This needed to be a soft, peaceful AU. Something very fluffy and very slice of life, and that's how I'd write it out as a story. There's no big over-arching plot, really, everything is very character-driven and there's no intrigue, no mystery, no real big angsty elements. Any angsty elements are there as backstory for some characters or are things happening in character's lives (because everyone has bad days and troubles, that's just reality) and they always find comfort and support among either the cafe's staff or the regular customers, as I do see everyone who frequents the café and those that work there really becoming a sort of surrogate family for each and every single one of these characters. The café is everyone's safe spot to land, even on the bad days, so the angst is very much mitigated and not used, since character and healing, growth, peace, bonds between people and found family would, again, really be the basis and focus of this story.

Now, I know Angelika really plays a large role overall in the manga but in this AU, her role is really that she was an adoptive mother to Heine, Giovanni, Lily, and now is an adoptive mother to Luki and Noki. She was, for all extents and purposes, a very abusive mother, physically and mentally, and Heine in particular blames her for the childhood death of his adoptive sister. Heine's had no contact with her for years and Giovanni's constant excuses and sticking up for her is the reason there's a large rift between the two men. Angelika really wants Heine back in her life, but she doesn't know where he relocated to or anything and she does try to use Giovanni to find out, which does become a major character plot point for Giovanni at one point. He's found Heine working at the café and because of other things that happen in the story, there's starting to be signs of a reconciliation between the two brothers, and in his first real step towards independence, Giovanni refuses to tell her where Heine is and pretends that he could never find him and starts to pull away from Angelika too, leaving her really largely written out of the story after that.

So, let's start with the café itself. It's not insanely popular to be honest. It's a small, slightly out of the way coffee-shop that serves small meals and baked treats but everyone who goes there tends to become a regular. Not only is the coffee actually the best around (the owner roasts the beans and creates the blends himself), and the food is superb, but there's just something slightly magical about the place. You walk in and automatically feel just…at home. Comfortable. Those who really have nowhere else to spend their days will find they can go in and spend the whole day there, even if all they order is a single coffee, without anyone getting upset, and that they'll always find a willing ear to talk to in either the staff themselves or the other patrons.

Above the café proper are four small studio apartments. Three of them are 'rented' to the cafe's full-time staff members. Honestly, the owner has a soft spot for people who are down on their luck, people with no real homes to go to or no real support systems in place. He takes each of the three full-time staff members in, gives them gainful employment and tells them that he'll take 10% of their paychecks off each pay in exchange for rent and they can live in one of the studio apartments. And honestly, I don't know why, maybe because it is such an oddly sweet idea, but I don't see him using much of that 10% for his own gain - it goes either back into the café itself or he uses it for the not too rare occasions when he'll show up at one of his staff's doors with either a meal, a bag of groceries, some piece of furniture he knows they'll need, sometimes a new piece of clothing. Yeah, some of it, like the clothing and furniture, might be second-hand, but it's all very appreciated.

And who is this owner I keep talking about? I really see Mihai as the owner of the café. He works there day to day just like everyone else and I really see him becoming a sort of surrogate father figure to not only his staff, but some of his regular customers. A well-meaning man, his past is largely unknown, though he admits to having lost a son and a lover at some point. Maybe that's why he's so keen on taking in 'strays', as the staff like to jokingly refer to themselves as.

While the café does make a modest profit, nobody quite knows where a lot of Mihai's money comes from. One of the staff members, Badou, helps with the bookkeeping, and he did notice that Mihai is not the full owner of the café. There's a silent partner who put up a good chunk of the investment in the place, someone named Ernst Rammsteiner. Nobody's ever seen him or heard his voice and they get no answers on that particular subject from Mihai and it becomes sort of a theory and running joke that maybe Mihai has mob connections or something and the shady co-owner is the head of a Mafia or other outlandish theories.

Who is Ernst Rammsteiner, in all honesty? Truth is, all the staff members do actually know him. The priest at a local church, everyone just knows him as 'Bishop'. He's the cafe's most frequent customer and becomes a friend to all the staff and a fair number of the customers. He doesn't insist on 'confession' being only a thing done inside the church walls…he'll hear confessions, or even people's worries and laments, sitting across from them at a café table just as well as he'll hear them sitting in a confession booth. His church is also very well known for hosting not only community dinners, where he'll hire the café to provide coffee, tea, and such for the meal, but for holding a number of weekly support groups. He also hires the café to cater these support groups, providing coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and pastries for the people who attend.

I really like the idea of these support groups actually being a fairly important thing in the story, because part of peace and happiness is finding healing, support, and growth. It's through catering and observing and learning about these support groups, maybe quietly observing one here or there, that a couple of the characters grow to feel comfortable enough, especially with the help of Bishop, with attending these groups. First Heine, and then Giovanni as well, attend a support group for those who suffered childhood abuse or trauma, and that group, along with the interactions at the café, are what really allow them to sort of heal some and start the steps towards mending their broken brotherhood, even if it's still slow-going. Badou and Naoto attends a grief support group for a while, where they sometimes even find Mihai himself, really learning how to heal after the death of important people in their lives (Badou's brother and Naoto's foster father).

Where did Bishop's money come from to support the café as he does? That's a secret not even Mihai knows…he just knows that, despite how long he's known the other man, Ernst remains an enigma, a complete mystery.

Now, I'll get into the staff members, but because I don't have as many ideas for some of the customers, I'll list the ones I do have.

In my mind, Daniella, Doug, and Mimi are all frequent customers with their own little struggles, lives, and things going on that affect the story here and there but not hugely overall.

Kiri is also a regular at the café and the owner of a really successful restaurant in the town. Everyone thinks there's something romantic going on between her and Mihai, as they spend a fair amount of time together and Kiri does a lot for the café. They both advertise each other's businesses, and the café has a thirty stamp coffee card where, once you fill it up with all thirty stamps (stamps given whenever you buy something), you get a free meal from Kiri's restaurant (menu selections limited). In much the same way, customers at Kiri's restaurant get a little 'free coffee' card valid for the café with their bills. It helps bring a lot of business for the café, to be honest, because most coffee lovers, as mentioned, tend to keep coming back once they've tasted the brew of the day.

Both Campanella and Magato are customers at the café. They both are surprised to see Naoto working there and, much like the others have people they refuse to serve, Naoto as first makes one of the others wait on them and refuses to leave the kitchen area until they're out of the café. Everyone knows there's something there in their past with Naoto, and I do see part of her story being really exploring that, her coming to terms with her pasts with these two and learning how to forgive, how to move forward, either in not speaking to them or in beginning to take the steps into having relationships with them again.

Me mentioning that each member of the staff seems to encounter someone that they just can't bring themselves to serve? That's Richter for Badou and Badou makes no secret of why. He blames the man for his brother's death…it's through the story, finding a new family, healing some of his grief, finding ways to continue in life, that Badou finds a way to at least forgive Richter. Not for the other man's sake, but for the sake of himself. It's when Badou has reached that point but also acknowledged that he wants Richter to play no part in his life that Mihai, encouraged by Ernst, accepts that Badou is in the best place he can be and bans Richter from the establishment.

As mentioned, Giovanni frequents the coffee shop. He stumbled across it randomly one day, he did not know Heine worked there. When I say Heine can't deal with him at first, I mean it. There was an actual physical brawl between the two that Mihai and Bishop had to break up before other customers called the police. Giovanni didn't get banned though and so he keeps coming back every day, sometimes multiple times a day. I think, in his own way, he really does care deeply about Heine and just kind of wants his brother back into his life while also still blaming Heine a little for Lily, because he's so deep into the FOG with his adoptive mother. However, even deep in the FOG, he never mentions the café to Angelika, and even though he's a good big brother to Luki and Noki, and they always ask to go with him on his running around, he never brings them to the café, steers clear of even taking them within a five block radius of it, simply because he doesn't want to risk them exposing Heine's location to Mother. And like mentioned, I think Giovanni starts to find friends, starts to find others who will listen, in the café itself and then in the support group and I think a large part of his character growth through the story would be him just taking steps to become an independent man outside of his family, along with the baby steps he and Heine make in becoming closer to each other and potentially having that brotherly relationship again.

Now, as you can imagine, the three full-time staff members, the ones who live above the café, work around there, really start to grow roots there, are Badou, Heine, and Naoto. Badou is the friendliest of the three of them and he's almost always running the till, doing a lot of the customer service work. His most annoying work habit? He takes frequent smoke breaks, but at the same time, it's during those smoke breaks that he really gets to learn and befriend a lot of the casual customers, turning them into regulars more often than not and really establishing bonds in the community.

Heine always wears gloves because he really can't stand to touch most people. I do think, throughout the story, we see him make some progress there, allowing select people to touch him or taking the gloves off around them. He's a very attractive man and is a draw for a lot of the heterosexual women who frequent the café but he never really does customer service work because he's also very, very bad at talking to people. He makes a little progress through the story but is definitely never going to be customer service material. Instead, he studies and learns quick and becomes the cafe's main barista, able to make even the most complicated of drinks.

Naoto works mainly in the kitchen, but is able to help out front whenever needed. She's quiet but really, the café would kind of fall apart without her, as it's only after she starts that people start to really rave about not just the coffee, but all the different treats and little meals they can get.

I like imagining Nill as a part-time staff member. She helps out Naoto a lot in the kitchen, as well as doing a lot of the cleaning. She's really shy and doesn't interact a lot with the customers, but the other staff kind of take her in, make her feel comfortable, and take care of her. Not a lot is known about her past, just that she lives in the church's rectory with Bishop.

[dont-we-all-need-some-space]

💔Broken Friendship💔

This is a story about something that happened last year. It still bothers me sometimes when ever certain things come up and I figured I think it's been a while where I can talk about it in the privacy of my own blog and can just vent about it. I am in the rp community (not like part of the groups on tumblr like official tumblr community mind you, but like still I roleplay here on tumblr.)

I have a bunch of characters, some canon, mostly ocs, passed around through different side blogs. I met this person through tumblr, on one of my rp side blogs. I met another person through the same blog since as they found me through them.

We've been friends for 2 years. Everything seemed fine, until one friend of mine, which I'll simply refer to as "March", while the other I will call "April". Neither of those are their real names or even names related to their respective ocs and are for privacy reasons.

The problem first started when March had announced another hiatus on tumblr. I wanted to check up on them through our discord chat. March explains he was fine except he was having a problem with someone. He wanted to deal with the problem on his own, since he didn't want to bother me with drama. I told him that I was happy to listen to whatever since I wanted to help in anyway I could.

He explains that the problem was with our mutual friend, April. He had explained that in a private conversation. April wanted to plot an rp, while March was dealing with his chronic pain. He explained that he wasn't up for plotting an rp due to said pains. He explains a full week goes by without April even acknowledging his messages, and explains that April has ghosted them.

I know April was also known to just kinda drop off the face of Earth sometimes, but I am fully aware that people can have lives outside of tumblr. I defend April and give reasons how maybe April has other things going on and she wasn't actually ghosting him. But that didn't matter as March had already blocked them. I thought things were just said and done after that.

However another week goes by where March, unprompted, complains to me about how they are so pissed off about April using art that he himself made for her as a gift. Now anyone with an iota of sense would have said, "sorry that happened, but what are you gonna do about it since you already blocked them and practically cut contact with them due to the ghosting incident and you already blocking them?"

But not this dumbass writing the vent post, I offered to talk with April about changing their icon since I still talked with April and still roleplayed with both of them. March initially had told me I didn't have to get involved because they didn't want me to get in trouble. I, at the time, didn't see anything wrong with simply asking April the simple question of changing their icon.

Now I was already working on art for April, so I was even offering to make a new icon for April anyway... it takes me a full month to finish my work on the art I was making for April, and shit fully hits the fan, and it gets everywhere.

Now in this part of the timeline of this event, I am going back in forth in the discord servers, relaying March and April's messages. My stress was getting higher and higher due to the fact that I was worried I fucked it up I came into the relationship between the two of them and I've ruined everything. I still feel that sometimes, despite every single person involved saying I did more than most would have.

Eventually one shoe drops, March threatens legal actions. I'm panicked, April panics, then messages March from their main blog, and tells them off for bringing me into the situation when I put myself into it in the first place, and calls them a name.

I'm trying to pick the pieces up like I'm trying to piece a vase back together, while on a sinking ship, like it would fix the problem... but I can't... I just couldn't handle it any more. They both cut contact and they leave it at that. March and April cut contact and I no longer have to ferry messages between them. Due to the stress of the whole situation, that seemed to go on for a week... we continue our individual conversations like normal.

I continue to rp with April, while I talk with both on discord. Until one day, March explains that he can't stand it any longer... that he couldn't stand seeing April's rp blogs name on his feed when he sees my replies even if he's blocked the tag, blocked her accounts. The sight of that name, irritates him to no end... and he goes on to explains that she single handedly ruined the site as a whole for him, then told me at first he was trying to be ok with me still interacting with her, but he couldn't handle it any more.

I thought this was over, I thought this situation was done, but it clearly wasn't... and I couldn't handle talking about it any more. He tried to get my point of view on the whole situation to which I told him that the situation wouldn't have even happened because I'm used to the long pauses in between communications... I wouldn't have gotten upset with someone using a gift as an icon as long as they gave credit... so the whole situation that was blown out of proportion wouldn't have happened if it were me... we had long conversation and at some point I just needed time apart from everyone.

So I took an entire month off of the internet and by the time I came back to talk with him about what had happened a month ago, I started off asking March how he was. He explained his chronic pain was acting up and that he wanted to rest but if I wanted to say anything he'll read it later.... only for not even a damn 5 minutes later, he's writing how he was upset that I just ignored what happened to him like I didn't care how he felt, and that I just picked back things up where we left off as if nothing happened before, then proceeded to say that even if we had good times together he didn't want to continue being my friend... and blocked me on everything. So if by some way, shape or form, March if you see this message, and you know that it's about you. I hope you know even if we were good friends in the past. I've defended you against my own friends in this whole situation because to them you were acting like a whiny brat. But this is the moment I stop defending you about everything you did during the situation that happened when I was trying to stay neutral since you were both my friends.

March, when you left that message without even giving me the time to defend myself in that moment was the emotional equivalent of leaving a flaming bag of dog shit on my front door step... and instead of getting deeper into the shit like before and defending my actions against your shitty ultimatum... This is where I grab a shovel, and smother the flames with dirt, and never look back.

[unfriendlies]

if you remember. garam rolled his eyes and let out a long quiet breath as if to say of course he remembered. though he couldn't exactly recall what the two talked about, if they really even talked at all, but he could remember what happened. to an extent, anyways. his demeanor shifted drastically once angel told him how he knew garam had a hardon. he felt the blood rush from his head, a sort of panicked numbness settling in his hands as he gripped as tightly as he could onto the blanket that still left his legs concealed. he felt it, angel actually felt his dick pressing against him. this was so embarrassing, definitely not how garam imagined the first contact would go. but at least he hadn't tried to push further, he had the common sense at the time to do his best to hide the fact. "i must have fallen asleep after that, too. when i've been drinking, don't ever let me go past just kissing... okay?" he was really worried, mostly about the fact that he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop if angel had given him any sort of leeway. he'd never been the type to keep going or push for more when somebody denied him but knowing the feelings between them were mutual, he feared that, being drunk, he would forget about what angel has been through and pressure him into going further. garam also... just really did not want their first time to happen while he was under the influence. he wanted to be able to remember every single second of it, he wanted to enjoy every feeling instead of those feelings being controlled by alcohol. when angel began talking about their fight last night, all garam wanted was to pull away from him but he feared that angel would think it was an act done out of rejection when that was far from the true reason. garam felt so guilty for what he'd said, ashamed of the accusations he made. the smaller man just sat there, his grip on angel's hand tightening for a moment before his whole body relaxed. it was good to hear that angel was seeking professional help for what he'd been through, garam would have felt worse knowing that angel was suffering in silence, by himself. he knew he wasn't very good with dealing with his emotions, he often jumped into things too quickly and latched on to anybody that showed an interest in him. that's partially why they were both in the predicament they were in, because garam lived with rose colored glasses permanently attached to his face. he didn't want to see the obvious red flags, he chose to believe there was good in everybody. "it was my fault," he admitted, turning his body to face angel. "i said things that i knew would hurt you because i was... i was jealous. you kissed somebody else and i saw, i didn't like it. i kept bringing darius up because i do want to be friends with him, too, so you don't feel like you have to choose between us. i wasn't lying but that wasn't the only reason." garam looked away from angel, obviously ashamed of himself at this point. "you deserve someone so much better than me, someone who actually sees you and who picks you first, someone who doesn't use you. i've brought you so much trouble and i hate myself for it. i'm afraid of what might happen to you if you do choose me." garam continued, looking back to angel once again. "he went to my apartment after he hit me, i knew that he'd go there so that's why i came here instead of going back home. i'm sure he got mad that i wasn't answering, he has a key so he probably just let himself right in. it looked like a bomb exploded in there when i went to grab my things. he knows i'm here, you really aren't safe as long as i'm with you." he didn't even want to think about what could happen if axel managed to get inside while they were home, while they were sleeping, or showering. completely vulnerable. "i should have brought my bat with me."

At the mention of his drinking, Angel averted his eyes. He didn’t want to tell the man he had gotten sick. That watching him leave was the hardest thing of that night. He didn’t want to explain those couple of hours. Then he would have to lie. He couldn’t tell Garam his ex was there, not knowing how he would react. Things finally seem to be working out for them. Watching Garam spiral was hilarious to Angel. His grin turned into full-on laughing until he saw how serious Garam’s face was. “No, no, you didn’t do anything like that.” He cleared his throat, trying to stop his giggles. “We kissed more than once, if you remember. The last kiss, I pulled you against me. I could feel it twitching until you pulled away”, Angel admitted, leaning closer to Garam so their faces were inches apart. He soon noticed that Garam was serious. He truly thought he did something. Angel felt his smile would have hinted. However, the man was going through a lot. Angel wanted to be understanding. He tried once more to use his humor to calm his best friend. Angel smiled and pinched the man’s cheek, “I’m not mad. Would you stop, I’m okay. You didn’t do anything to cross any lines. You were adorable last night, if I’m being honest with you. After our kiss, I fell asleep. I can only assume you did as well,” the taller man said, the distance between them once more. Letting out a deep sigh, he tucked his wild strands behind the ears. “Since we are on the topic. You apologized to me last night. And I think I owed you a proper apology.” Angel was looking away from Garam now. Still sitting on the edge of the bed. Lowering his leg to turn his back, he was nervous. As confident as he thought himself to be, saying how he truly felt was difficult. Being the friend was his comfort space. Angel took a deep breath and pushed himself off the bed. He quickly walked over to sit right beside Garam and took his hand before he lost his nerve. “The things I said to you weren’t fair. My anger should be placed elsewhere. I really care for you, Garam. And yes. I did drink last night…” Angel paused as he tried to decide how much he should tell. “I drank too much and got sick. Most of it was out of my system by the time you got home.” part of that was the truth. “I don’t know what I can handle or what I can’t. I’m not even sure about what I want. But what I am sure about is you, Garam. My promise is the same as yours. I promise to take good care of you. But please be patient with me. If I pull away, please try and understand it’s not you. I’m seeing someone about what happened.” Angel admitted as he watched Garam’s face. He was rambling, worried that if he stopped talking, he might lose his nerve. “We meet once a week. I want you to know that I’m trying to be okay. Not just for me. But for us. That kiss showed me that our feelings aren’t just fillers for what’s going on. This is real.” the taller man squeezed his best friend’s hands, hoping he didn’t put his foot in his mouth. He didn’t want any fights between them again. If his little speech went well, they would be on their way to eat pancakes in no time.

[casspurrjoybell-20]

FOOLS IN LOVE - Chapter 28 - Part 1 BOOK THREE: 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Noah Wright

I was on cloud nine.

When I got home from dropping Sam off at his dorm, Ciera and Kaitlyn were getting ready for their date while I zoned out, my mind replaying last night with my hands on Sam's naked body, my lips on his.

It was perfect and in a matter of hours Sam will be knocking on my door and informing me that he broke up with Boring Benjamin.

"I don't think I've ever seen you look this happy," Ciera commented while she leaned into the bathroom mirror and carefully drew a long line of eyeliner onto her eyelid.

Kaitlyn was picking clothes in Ciera's bedroom.

Then Ciera added.

"The sex must've been good."

I chuckled.

"The best. You don't even know."

"I promise you, it wasn't as good as the sex I had last night," she spoke confidently.

I raised my eyebrows.

"Oh yeah?" I questioned with a sly smile.

I watched through the bathroom mirror as Ciera smiled softly to herself.

"Yeah, she was..."

I shook my head.

"I'm gonna have to stop you right there. I'm happy for you guys and whatever but that's my ex-girlfriend you slept with and I'm not trying to hear details on that."

Ciera rolled her eyes.

"Okay, loser, then tell me about your night because I know you're dying to."

I grinned with a hint of a laugh because that's how happy I was as I explained my night before with Sam.

I didn't go into what transpired between Sam and Jude, I wanted to burn that memory and hope Sam does too.

"And right now," I said after finishing up.

"He's breaking it off with Boring Benjamin and we won't have to deal with anymore bullshit."

Just the thought of being able to kiss and hold and touch Sam whenever I want had my head feeling light and my heart feeling full.

"I'm happy for you guys. Just don't fuck it up over dumb shit this time and actually talk things through."

"We did talk. We talked about taking it slow this time."

"That's good. I think that's smart."

Ciera was still talking when I got a text message from Sam.

To: Noah Wright [I wasn't able to do it, I'll explain later.] From: Samuel Moretti

My heart dropped and I stood up.

"What's wrong?" I heard Ciera ask but I was too confused with Sam's messages to respond.

To: Noah Wright [Please don't be upset.] From: Samuel Moretti

"What the fuck?" I muttered to myself and pressed on the call icon in his contact and brought my phone up to my ear.

After two rings, the call was declined.

To: Noah Wright [I can't talk right now, I'm with Ben.] From: Samuel Moretti

Ciera stopped putting on makeup and turned to me with a concerned look.

To: Samuel Moretti [What the fuck do you mean don't be upset? Sam, call me right now.] From: Noah Wright

To: Noah Wright [I will. Give me an hour.] From: Samuel Moretti

To: Samuel Moretti [You can't be serious.] From: Noah Wright

To: Noah Wright [I'm sorry.] From: Samuel Moretti

"What the fuck?" I questioned out loud.

I wanted to throw my cell-phone against the wall.

"What just happened?" Ciera asked me.

I took a deep breath and handed her my phone.

Ciera read the messages as I tried not to get too worked up over Sam's vague fucking texts.

I shook my head.

"Of fucking course," I muttered before exclaiming...

"Of course. God, why can't anything just go my fucking way? Just once. Fuck."

Ciera set down my cell-phone and turned to me cautiously.

"Hey, just take a deep breath. Clearly there's a reason why Sam couldn't break up with Ben right now, that doesn't mean he won't."

"Oh really? And what fucking reason could Sam have for not breaking up with Ben right fucking now?"

I knew I shouldn't take my anger out on Ciera but I couldn't help the curse words that flew out of my mouth and the rise in volume in my voice.

"I don't know but don't get so worked up over it just yet, okay? Go sit down and take some deep breaths."

"Fuck this," I said, grabbing my phone and was about to walk out of the bathroom when Ciera grabbed my arm.

She gave me a stern look.

"Chill, Noah. Relax and wait for Sam to call you. Don't do anything irrational when you don't even know what's going on, got it?"

I took a deep breath 'in through my nose and out through my mouth' before nodding and Ciera released me but I couldn't sit still.

Sam wouldn't text me back after I messaged him to explain through text and Ciera and Kaitlyn left for the day, so I was stuck anxiously waiting to figure out what the hell Sam was talking about.

Until he called me two hours later.

"What the fuck, Sam?" was how I answered his call.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry. Benjamin's Grandma just passed away and Ben was really close to her and he asked me to go to the funeral with him."

I groaned.

"Fucking Hell and you obviously said yes."

"What was I supposed to do?" he asked me with his voice rising.

"Say, 'go to it yourself, she's not my fucking grandma?' I don't know."

Sam scoffed.

"I couldn't do that."

"Clearly not," I spoke bitterly.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just going to be gone for a few days with him and then I'll do it when we get back?"

"Do what?" I asked because I wanted him to say it out loud even though I knew Sam rolled his eyes at that.

"Break up with Benjamin, you asshole."

"Right, I'm the asshole," I scoffed.

"I'm sorry Noah. Do you think I want to be here?"

"You tell me," I muttered but I knew I was overreacting.

"Noah," Sam said my name like he was disappointed.

I sighed.

"No, I don't think you want to be there but please, Sam, end it after this," I said with edge to my words.

"I know, I will. I'm sorry Noah, I didn't expect this to happen."

I knew he was right but I still hated this.

"I know."

But the thought of Sam and Boring-Benjamin together for the next couple days.

'Ugh.'

"Please don't kiss him."

"Noah, I want to be kissing you, not him, okay? I'll end it once we get back. I gotta go, I can't be on my cell-phone too much or he'll know something's off. I'm sorry."

And then Sam hung up.

[lgcalex]

Chuseok: Making New Memories

there's always been something about this holiday in particular that left alex feeling a bit more 'on the fence' as the years went by, especially after having learned that he had been adopted by his parents a few years back. it wasn't only until recently though that he had found out he had a half-sibling, and even got in contact with his birth parents.

it's only thanks to his recent discovery, and the encouragement from his adoptive parents, that he had found himself standing at the airport earlier that morning. the nervousness that he had felt while waiting for the plane to arrive from japan making any past moments of nervousness nothing compared to now. even when he was filming future dreams, or even that night he had finally confessed his feelings to ichika, neither of those moments could compare to what he was feeling a few hours prior (and even now as he stands in the kitchen with both his adoptive mother and birth mother).

alex didn't know if he should feel excited, nervous, or even cautious around everyone with the circumstances because he never really imagined that this moment would ever happen in his life. meeting his birth parents for the first time ever since birth.

he watches occasionally as the two women converse while helping one another with the task of cooking, chewing on the corner of his bottom lip as he does so in between chopping up vegetables and mixing some of the ingredients together. only a few words had really come from him from the moment he had picked his birth parents up until now, not really knowing what to say or even do in this situation.

it's true that he had always wondered what it would be like to meet the two people responsible for his birth, though he never really thought of what he would say to them if he ever did happen to meet them, and now that he was being put into that exact situation he just couldn't figure out what would be appropriate to do. it wasn't like he could ask why they had given him up so easily, nor could he really bring himself to even ask what went through their minds when they had come to the decision to put him up for adoption. it's not like it would even change things now that he was in his 20's and living his life doing what he enjoyed doing.

his thoughts suddenly come to a halt the moment the japanese woman speaks to him, causing alex to almost drop the bowl in his hands as he jumps a little and quickly turns his attention towards her, thankful towards his girlfriend for even being the main reason why he began taking japanese lessons so seriously over the past couple years. "i'm so glad that we get to finally meet you and see how well of a young man you've grown up to be." the words she speaks to him makes alex smile awkwardly, nodding slightly as he takes a moment to find his own words. "yeah... i have the kim's to thank for that." he states, hoping that his words don't sound harsh to the woman who birthed him.

alex only manages to let out a small, inaudible, sigh of relief the moment the japanese woman smiles warmly at him and nods in agreement. maybe she knows this will take some getting used to, especially since she hadn't seen her son in over twenty years, though there's a small part of alex which can't help but still feel awkward around both her and his birth father.

it's not that he doesn't want to know them, but at the same time his adoptive mother suggesting inviting them over for chuseok upon finding out that he had found them through his sibling, well it wasn't something that he was exactly prepared for.

even as the two women continue to talk, one in broken korean and the other in broken japanese, alex finds himself unable to fully relax before he's excusing himself and stepping out with the excuse that he needs to make a call. chuseok wasn't technically for another couple days, though his birth parents had at some point told his adoptive parents that they wouldn't be able to be around for the actual holiday due to some reasons (which alex hadn't paid much attention to due to the initial shock of the situation). so, in the end, they decided to compromise and celebrate the holiday twice, one for everyone then on the actual day of chuseok for him and his adoptive parents to do as usual.

this all seemed to just make alex's thoughts a jumbled mess inside of his head, making him need to take a step out of the house and get some fresh air. another second in the house would probably make him go insane, so he decides to get out and take this chance to call ichika, thinking that at least she'll be able to help him relax a little. if not, at least make him feel a bit less on edge with this situation just by hearing her voice.

[liinthar]

She couldn't stand still. Some part was moving - her fingers, her feel, even her toes wiggled in her boots. There was so much emotion in her that she didn't know what to do with it. No one had stirred the emotion in her that Astarion had - she hadn't cared for anyone the way she cared for him.

For some reason, his confession that it wasn't because she was drow lifted some weight off of her. For once, if he was telling the truth, her being drow didn't work against her. Wasn't the reason she was standing here, trying to piece her heart back together.

"I trusted you because I saw another soul like mine." Her words were small, as if she was trying to make herself smaller. An easy thing to do, with her short stature. And all she wanted to do was curl up in some small dark space and pretend this beautiful elf hadn't broken her heart. "Usstan tlun waele, fridj saph Ilhar telanthus." I am stupid, just like Mother said. Her voice came out rough in her native tongue.

With one hand, she started to pick at the skin of her left thumb. Anything to give her some distraction.

She made his dead heart beat again? Her? More tears appeared and didn't stop the few that escaped.

"You. . . you did not. . ." She gave a frustated sniff, taking a step towards him. "Caring for someone and wanting them, I have learned recently, are two different things." Tatithra took a deep breath, her lungs burning with the rest of the tears she was forcing back. She needed to ask this.

"You did not force yourself to. . . be with me?" Her voice broke, making sure to maintain eye contact. It had crossed her mind, if he had forced himself to lay with her in order to manipulate her. But she was a coward, just as her sisters and Mother said, and didn't want to ask.

Was scared at the thought that he didn't actually want her that night but thought he needed to do that.

She didn't know who was more broken between them.

Seeing her visibly in pain, caused Astarion emotional pain. He watched her carefully as her arms wrapped around her stomach and her jaw clenched. He meanwhile, kept himself open. His arms rested at his sides, but his posture was proper as always. Straight. Not moving an inch. His chest hardly rose and fell as he breathed the heavy air.

"I do care for you deeply!" Astarion was quick to admit that. He was almost taken aback by his own words. He widened his eyes and took a step back away from her subtly. "I.. I do not care that you are a drow. I would have done it with anyone. Not only you.. Not because you are a drow. You were just--" The easiest to manipulate? He couldn't say that. "You trusted me. When that was arguably stupid thing to do!" The vampire huffed. And then he hit her with a harder question. With tears in her eyes. He longed to reach out and hold her face. Brush those tears away. But he understood she wanted nothing to do with him and the step back showed him that he was right. ".. The night we shared. The first one. The night of passion.." He admitted. His heart wrenched as he spoke. "You made my dead heart beat again."