#the chapter was supposed to have another scene but i moved things around because

[moondirti]

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 —

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂 (𝟏𝟒): 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭

dropping on September 27th at 18:30 PT summary: miguel finally gives in to what you both want

out now!

Hot air wades through the piqued hairs on your neck when he speaks again. You jerk away from it, face shrilling like a kettle kept over flame. It’s almost impossible to shift under the heavy moor of his body on yours 

“It’s not so good, is it? Being ignored.” He whispers, nudging the locks that fall between you away with his nose. The attention is too much too fast, flaying you alive until your innards and secret mortification spill, exposed to the elements. All you can do is whimper, lower half wriggling for a friction that could abate the ache waxing in your core. It drums to the rhythm of his breaths, expectantly tensing every time his chest swells. The act is desperate, much like the worm that still cleaves your brain apart. Rumbling promises, blasphemy, about leaps of faith into your mentor’s apartment. Or revelations like being fucked silly.

His voice takes on the same quality when he presses for a reply, canting forward to eject the burden from your lungs. The hard line of his erection stamps onto your ass, roughly illustrating an example for what’s to come. “Hm?” 

“N-No.” You stammer, nails grazing the calloused layer on the heel of his hand. His grip readjusts around your crossed arms, momentarily affected by the gentle brush.

“No.”

And if you’d been a stranger to the nuances of his expression, you would have thought he seems unaffected. But you’ve honed an ability to read between the complexities of Miguel O’Hara. (Majorly for self-preservation, however it’s proving useful now.) The mock is hummed with a husky, dulcet note, whipped somewhere in the back of his throat that turns the simple reiteration into a taunt. He’s teasing you. 

(And shit, why is that so hot?)

[i2sunric]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 (l.hs)

PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: due to a storm, his parents are stuck in a motel for the night while you are stuck at his house. with wi-fi not working, heeseung can’t think of anything better than recreating the scenes of your smutty books.

WARNINGS: established relationship, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), fingering, standing sex (?), missionary, pussy eating, masturbation, dirty talking, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), rough sex, chocking, i lied about the doggy style, pet names (angel, baby), lmk if more, NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 13th August 2024

WC: 3.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey (oneshot) @trizdoniki @love4hee @strayy-kidz @baribaaari @shirizula @astratlantis @jaeyungxrl @heestarry @heeseungismymanz @mitmit01 @rayofsunshineeee @heesexual74 @deezbin @jakeswifez @nikiswifiee @hqqj @diorfmu @isa942572 @yjwluvs @norihoyeon @starggukies @shiningnono @sunpov @iamliacamila @strawberrhypen @gnvi-eve @wildflowermooon @kaykay11sworld @erenswifesposts @star-hoon @aubaee @lvnglysunoo @heebear @enhypenlovre BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

a/n: honestly the intro sucks and so does the outro but i swear the smut is GOOD. literally 3k words of filthy porn ngl. enjoy lol. please LIKE & REBLOG to spread and let me knows your thoughts 💗

What was supposed to be a cozy Thursday night ended up in you being forced to stay at Heeseung’s house for the night.

Forced? Not really, you enjoyed the excuse of spending more time with your boyfriend. Because of a flooding caused by the storm outside, you weren’t able to go back home.

But neither were his parents, who were supposed to have a nice date and ended up being blocked by the horrible weather.

The sound of the raindrops tapping against the window filled the room as Heeseung turned off the shower.

You were laying on his bed with your back to the wall as you peacefully read your book, thankful that your sixth sense made you bring it.

Heeseung entered the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another to dry his damp hair.

“Reading still?” He asked, nudging the book with toe. “Ew.” You stated, pushing his foot away “And yes.”

Heeseung just chuckled and moved to get his clothes from the drawer “Heard from your parents?”

He hummed “I called them before showering, they said they’ll stay at a motel,” He put his boxers on “But before they could say more, the line cut off.”

You threw a glance at the window “This storm is going to destroy a lot of things.”

Heeseung struggled to put on shorts and then rounded the bed, the mattress lowering where his weight was.

“I bet they’re having some wild sex right now.” You joked, flipping another page of your book.

Heeseung pinched your side “Ew? I don’t really want to think about my parents going at it.” He laughed, laying down beside you.

“Careful, you might have a brother soon.” You joked again, earning another gentle pinch.

A couple of minutes passed by and Heeseung groaned “Wi-fi doesn’t work.” He threw his phone at the end of the bed. “I can’t play games.”

“Poor you.” You cooed, caressing the hand he had placed on your hip, his chest pressed against your back.

“Can’t you put your book down and give me attention?” You could hear the pout in his voice “No boy, I’m at an important point.”

“Evil.” Heeseung murmured as he settled into a more comfortable position, strangely not going anywhere to do something else.

You felt his hand on your side, relaxed as well as his breath even. ‘He must’ve fallen asleep’, You thought, as you flipped another page of your book, unable to stop your eyes from reading the scene unfolding before you.

If Heeseung was to casually open his eyes and read even one line of the chapter, he would certainly make fun of you.

Who even reads smut in their boyfriend’s bed?

You felt his hand flex on your stomach but you didn't really mind, he would always move uncontrollably when asleep— sometimes, even kicking you.

As your mind proceeded the words written down on paper, your body reacted to it, almost unconsciously.

You could feel your core pulse in need, your body temperature raising and at the same time goosebumps appeared on your skin.

It always happened, you couldn’t help the way your imagination wandered with the characters of the book, the tension and the way they cared for each other. It was all too tempting, you could feel your stomach fill with butterflies.

But your boyfriend was sleeping and you didn’t want to disturb him, knowing he already had troubles falling asleep — the reason why he always stayed up late to play games —, so you kept quiet.

You felt Heeseung shift behind you, the hand on your stomach circling your waist until he was able to pull you against his chest, his breath hot against your ear.

You held your breath as he changed position, not making any sudden movement while he used you like you were a teddy bear.

Gulping down, you waited a few beats before focusing your attention back on the chapter.

It’s not like you and Heeseung had never gone further than third base, but it was always so… vanilla.

You longed for someone to use you for your own pleasure, to talk you through your multiple orgasms, to mark you up and manhandle you like a doll.

But you would never have the courage to confess that to Heeseung.

Yes, you two had been together for almost a year and half though you weren’t ready to open up to your contorted fantasies. Afraid that he may run away, you loved him too much for that.

So, you hid in your imagination, burying your nose in books that filled the void inside of you.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you tried to calm the fire igniting your bones, but your hips shifted uncomfortably, the ache between your legs too strong to be ignored.

Suddenly, Heeseung spoke to your ear, voice low and husky “You want to show me too?” You jolted and closed the book, catching your finger in middle, hissing at the pain.

You turned your face around and caught his gaze, something different inside it. Something primal.

“I-I thought you were sleeping.” You said, blinking faintly and Heeseung smirked, “I was reading with you.”

He reached the book from your hand and like a fool, you let him take it. He opened the page where you had left your finger in and cleared his throat “He looked at her with a strange urge, his attention gliding to her face,” He started reading.

“His voice was low when he said ‘Show me, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in the middle of the night’.”

The heat that was once in your stomach moved to your cheeks, embarrassment coating your expression.

“It’s just a chapter, I was skipping it.” You tried to reach back for your book but he held it up, sitting “Ah, lying is bad, Y/N.”

Heeseung’s smirk was cocky “You seemed pretty into it.” You scoffed, “Give it back.”

Your boyfriend was clearly enjoying it, the way you blushed and the flustered look on your face. He licked his bottom lip and eyed you up and down.

Only when you lowered your gaze, unable to meet his, did you notice the hard-on he was sporting. Was he enjoying it the same way you were?

“There’s no wi-fi.” He stated, “And my parents aren’t home, don’t you think we should occupy our time?”

This side of him was something you had never seen, perhaps, had he the same hidden likings as yours? Looked like you were about to find out.

“How?” You asked, your voice hoarse, barely yours. Heeseung glanced back at the page and said “Take off your shorts.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, “W-What?” And he just chuckled darkly “Do you think I didn’t notice your body language, mh? Do you think I didn’t see how you were craving… this?” He raised the book.

“Now, take off your shorts or I’ll have to do it myself.” Normally, you would comply, but you were feeling bold, adrenaline shooting in your veins, so you said instead, “Make me.”

His eyes darkened, his brow raised. He placed the book on the bed and crawled towards you as you backed away until your back hit the headboard.

He kept eye contact while his fingers hooked around your shorts, and instead of his usual slow pace, he yanked them off.

You gasped at the sudden force, soon enough your shorts were laying on the floor “Isn’t this what you want?” He questioned.

“You want someone to dominate you, uh? To show you what’s your place?” Your whole body shivered from his words as you mindlessly nodded.

“All this time I’ve been gentle, afraid to make you uncomfortable,” He gripped your panties “But all you wanted was to be fucked, hard, isn’t it?” He ripped them off you, the sound of fabric stretching making you gasp again.

He smirked and threw the messy fabric on the floor, with your shorts “So, I’ll follow what you like.” He pointed at the book resting on the duvet “Play with yourself.”

You widened your eyes. Heeseung’s behaviour was different from his usual one, though you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Lord, you were drenched just from his words and he could see it, the way your juices coated your pussy, spread in front of him.

You gulped and slowly moved your hand down, reaching your clit which you started circling.

A soft hum escaped your lips at the sweet feeling and you watched him, his gaze so primal and full of lust as he took in the sight of you touching yourself.

Just a few beats passed before he asked “You know what she does now, right?” And you nodded, lifting your hand up to his lips. He hummed and took them inside his mouth, his warm tongue twirling around your digits.

The taste of you, even if it was just brief, was enough to make his head spin, so delicious and intoxicating.

You removed them “Let me watch while you fuck yourself.” He said and was suddenly aware of your position. Of how open you were in front of him, your folds clenching around nothing.

Heeseung raised an impatient brow and you hurried to coat your fingers in your juices, rubbing them against your entrance before thrusting one inside.

You moaned, your fingers brushing against your g-spot right away, given all the times you’d done this.

Heeseung licked his bottom lip, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth, on his tongue. He could feel his shorts grow tighter by the minute, his desire for you overtaking any rational thought.

“One more baby, I know you can take it.” He urged and you complied, adding a second digit to your ministration.

Heeseung let out a groan, his eyes locked on you as you brought pleasure to yourself. He quickly took the book back in his hands and flicked the page, a wicked smile on his lips.

“Yeah, bet you’ll like this.” He said as he pushed himself down the bed and took you by the back of your thighs, tilting your body until it was pending at the edge of the bed.

You stopped your movements and pulled your fingers out with a ‘POP’ sound, resting on your elbows to look down at him “Hee?”

“Don’t worry, angel.” He pried your legs open, his breath fanning on your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes “Just need to taste your sweet pussy.”

And then you felt it, the swipe of his tongue across your folds, your mind clouding from the pleasure as soft gasps escaped your lips.

Heeseung ate you like a starved man, alternating sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his strong grip prevented you from squirming around.

You rocked your hips against his mouth, needing to chase the pleasure building inside your lower belly.

You reached a hand and placed it on his head, your fingers tangling in his locks, “Mh, that’s it, angel.” He murmured, “Fuck my tongue.”

And so you followed his orders, moving with deep and slow thrusts, just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your jody as Heeseung stuck his warm tongue inside of you.

Soon, your movements grew sloppier and faster, your lips parted “I’m— I’m gonna—“ And before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you, making your back arch off the bed, your legs shaking.

“This was so hot, baby.” Heeseung pressed a few more kitten licks on your clit before raising himself, caressing your thighs with his thumbs.

You looked up at him, your breath still uneven from the great amount of pleasure he had put you in.

He gave you a small smirk before reaching behind you and taking your forgotten book back. He flipped the pages “Spoiler, she gives him a BJ.” He said.

You chuckled, your body now recovered as you sat up “And you don’t want it?” You batted your eyelashes.

Heeseung took a steady breath. “Don’t tempt me.” He quickly searched further one the book, scanning lines and as he found something he liked, he pointed at it, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“As much as I love feeling your mouth around me, I want to feel you whole.” He murmured.

You sat up, crawling towards him to the edge of the bed “Maybe I want to.”

His breath caught in his throat, your vicinity and your words going straight to his cock “The way she does.”

Heeseung went back to the chapter where it all started, scanning the lines until he read “After making her see stars, he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, his gaze dangerous. ‘Your moans were so sweet, darling.’ He murmured, lowering his jeans and boxers, his cock sprung free.” He paused to gulp.

“He took the back of her head and moved her ‘till her neck bent in an awkward position, his red tip brushing against her lips.” He lowered the book.

“Is this how you want it? Rough?” Heeseung questioned and you nodded “Might as well follow the script.” You shrugged.

A low groan built in his throat, you tugged the hem of his shirt “This off?” Your eyes glistened with fake innocence.

Heeseung swiftly worked his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. It’s not like you had never seen him without a shirt on, you were used to him during beach dates or pool parties, but it was always so breathtaking.

Heeseung smirked, noticing the way your hungry stare was studying his chest. In the blink of an eye his shorts joined his shirt, his cock hard and angry, some pre-cum smeared over the tip.

“Be a good girl and open up for me,” He murmured as he climbed on the bed, his hand clutching the headboard to keep himself steady.

You quickly laid down, his hips hovering on your face. You looked up at him, doe-eyes looking ever so pure… And then you took him all in your mouth.

Heeseung threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, your head bobbing back and forth.

“Fuck,” He breathed out, his eyes meeting yours “So good, always so good.”

He caressed your cheek, his thumb grazing gently your skin as his hips bucked, meeting your pace.

He then pulled out, making you frown which was soon transformed when his lips met yours.

You could feel his cock twitching between your breasts, one of his hands squeezing it as his lips claimed yours.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, both of your tongues moving together, his spit down your throat.

He was delaying his orgasm, you noted, because he would’ve cum just from a few licks of yours.

And then he pulled his lips away from yours to thrust his throbbing length inside your mouth again “Mh… Yes— Shit. You’re so good, angel. Mouth made just for me.” He praised as he moved.

You hummed, sending waves of pleasure all through his body.

You gripped his thighs, bobbing your head faster, desperate to bring him the pleasure he deserved.

Heeseung understood and gripped the headboard with both of his hands, his hips thrusting inside of your warm and wet mouth. He hit the back of your throat, making you gag “I’m so close.” He breathed out.

At his words, you ignored the burning sensation building in your throat and hollowed your cheeks, with a few more thrusts he was emptying himself with a groan.

When he pulled out, you licked any drop of cum that spilled out your mouth and hummed happily.

Heeseung chuckled, leaning down again to capture your lips in a messy but loving kiss.

You playfully bit his bottom lip and he pulled away, yelping “Brat.”

You smiled at him and sat up, your voice just briefly hoarse “What happens next?”

Heeseung’s gaze darkened but his words were serious “You sure you want to continue?” He sighed softly, “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled reassuringly and beckoned to the book “Time to change chapter.”

Heeseung let out a quiet groan, his cock visibly twitching “He fucks her against the wall.” He narrated what he had read “Hard, hand around her throat… is that what you want?”

Just the idea of doing it that way had you drenched down there, a shiver ran along your spine “Yes, Hee.” You breathed out, and to emphasise you add “I need it.”

“My nasty girl.” He practically growled as he got up from the bed, taking you with him and slammed you against the wall of his bedroom.

You yelped when your back hit the cold surface, the tapping of the raindrops on the window your background music.

Heeseung claimed your lips again as one of his hands snuck to squeeze your backside, his fingers kneading it.

You could again feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, its warmth infecting your core.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” He whispered on you throat “To have you milk my cock as I take you so hard you can’t say a coherent word.”

You rocked your hips against his, a clear effect of his words, your arms wrapped around his neck.

As if you weighed nothing, he raised you and you wrapped your legs around his sculpted waist.

Without any warning except for the aligning of his cock, he slammed deep inside of you, making you moan out.

Heeseung wasn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen, but he surely was the longest. You could feel him so deep, he could probably even reach your stomach if he tried hard enough.

You gripped the back of his neck like your life depended on it as he moved without any mercy, pulling all the way out until the tip just to slam back in, knocking the air out of your lungs.

He snuck one hand between your breasts and reached your throat, wrapping it around it. He gripped, not enough to choke you but good enough to make you light-headed.

His cock pounded hard into you, driving your brain into nothing but a puddle of his name, the one you screamed and moaned.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and he grunted, rewarding you with a deeper thrust, one you can almost feel in your centre, where the familiar knot was tightening.

Your eyes rolled back, just moans and whimpers escaping your lips.

Heeseung removed the hand from your throat and gripped your neck instead, letting your lungs that were screaming in protest fill with air up to their capacity.

He moved so your forehead pressed against his, both of you panting in each other’s mouth, your pussy clenching around him.

He groaned, he put one of his hands on the wall to steady himself as his hips kept bucking fast on yours, the sound of skin slapping mixing up with the rain’s.

“Is this what you like, baby?” Heeseung asked, moving his face to gently nip on your neck.

Your whole body felt sensitive from the attention he was giving it, from his small hickeys to the way he kept hitting your sweet spot “Y-yes.” You croaked out “Feels s’good, fuck.”

Heeseung grinned and stilled, twitching inside of you with a groan.

Before you could even comprehend it, he had you with your back on the mattress, never pulling out of you.

Your legs spread open, eager to feel him in you, to let him claim him.

“Fuck,” He grunted out, his pace never once faltering as he gripped your thighs to help himself, surely there would be marks the next day “Feels like heaven inside of you.”

You answered with a muffled whimper, not sure if your brain could even form out a word anymore.

He leaned on you, chest pressed against chest as he hid his face in the crook of his neck, his hot breath hitting your skin.

You rolled your eyes back, the pleasure building inside of you almost unbearable “Hee..” You breathed out, gripping his forearm to warn him where words couldn’t reach.

“I know,” He murmured, “Me too, baby…”

You cried out as you tried to delay your orgasm the same way he could do, but the pleasure was too much and before you could even try to resist more, you saw white.

Your back arched off the bed and squirmed around, your walls clenching tight around Heeseung who, despite your state, never stopped thrusting.

“Shit— Where do you want it?” He asked, because it was in some ways a first timer. First time going rough, first time going raw.

You couldn’t find your voice, your eyes watery from the impact of your orgasm, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him.

He frowned “Are you— Fuck.” You felt his cum filling you up to the brim, the sensation so sweet a gasp left your lips as he rocked slowly, adrenaline lowering.

After a couple of minutes where neither of you had the energy to move, Heeseung raised himself and offered you a warm smile “How was it?” He questioned as he stood up.

The sight of you, sprawled on his bed with both your seeds running down your thighs was enough to make him pop another boner, which earned him a side eye from you.

“Don’t worry, baby.” Heeseung chuckled, opening one of the drawers to retrieve one of his shirts and helping you in it. He then carefully cleaned you up, dried the sweat running down your forehead and after putting back on his shorts and underwear, he laid beside you.

One of his arms snuck around your shoulder, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead “You’ll have to go commando, since I ripped your panties.” You giggled, hugging him tighter.

“I really enjoyed… this.” Heeseung smirked, “I bet.” He glanced at the book, now resting on the bedside table “Come to me when you start another book, yeah?”

Heeseung absentmindedly squeezed your breast through the shirt “I’ll make sure to recreate it all�� even may steal some of the lines.”

Content that he wasn’t going to judge you for your strange likings, rather supporting them, you let yourself be held as the storm outside slowly died, the breeze hitting your skin as you fell asleep, safe in his arms.

[yanderepuck]

Salaì- Chapter 1

WELCOME TO SALAI'S ROUTE. This is a FAN MADE route of my oc, Salai. This means this route contains my headcanons for the characters and in no way is suppose to represent the canon story. This is just a fun little time because I know many of you enjoy Salai. Feel free to engage, talk theories, send asks (even to @ask-salai ).

DISCLAIMER: His route his not canon to his character. Also, all of his lore in not in the route for simplicity reasons plus please feel free to ask about him.

Banner by @spooscribbles

It has finally been a month and it’s time for you to go back home.  The door is finally open today and you are saying your goodbyes to everyone.  With your bag and dead phone in hand you look at the door.  It’s been a long month, you’ve made great memories with everyone, but it's time to go

Arthur: Oh don't cry now, luv.  It isn’t too late to change your mind and stay here with me~

Isaac: Even while she’s getting ready to leave you are still trying to win her over

Everyone is giving their farewells and saying how you will be missed.  You are doing your best to hold back tears so not to hear Theo going on about how you crying is going to get Vincent to start crying and how dare you make broer upset at a time like this.  In the beginning you thought he was being harsh about it but he’s just a tease.

Mitsuki: Thank you everyone, for everything this last month.

Comte: I will come with you to make sure you get back safely.

He smiles and reaches for the door handle.  After pulling it open, the view on the other side is all distorted and not like the long hallway of antiques that it should be. Leonardo quickly pulls you back, not sure what this passageway is going to do, and Comte shuts the door.

All of the guys looked shocked at what they had just seen.  In all the years they have all been here they have never seen the door this way, and Comte uses it nearly every month to travel.  You weren’t sure what to think.  What was wrong with it?  Comte was having the same thought.  He moved the door handle again to make sure it wasn’t still open and took a step back, still looking at the door.

Leonardo: Sebastian, why don’t you take Mitsuki to her room.

Leonardo lets you go, and Sebastian places an arm around you since you still seem to be a little in a shock.

Napoleon: Do you know what could have caused this, Comte?

Comte: No.  It’s never looked like that before.

He gets lost in his thoughts for a few moments.  

Comte: I’m going to need time to look into this

Comte turns and leaves the group.

~~~

Sebastian helped you get back to your room. And got you to sit on your bed

Sebastian: Mitsuki? How are you feeling?

It’s not that the scene before you had scared you, it was the realization that you couldn’t go home.  Going home is what helped you get through this last month.  It’s what pushed you to get out of bed each morning.

Mitsuki: I’m fine.  I’ll just need to wait another month, right?  Comte is going to figure out what is wrong with the door and get this figured out.  

That’s what you were telling yourself.  It’s bad enough you were already gone for a month.  Did the same amount of time pass? When you go through the door will it be a month later or the same day?

Sebastian: I’ll go make you some tea.

With that he leaves the room and to the kitchen.  You lay down in your bed and look up at the ceiling wondering what was going to happen now

~~~

For the next few days you are acting like nothing happened.  Still doing chores around the mansion, going out to do some shopping.  Waiting out this time seems much different from the first month.  You do your best to act the same around the guys.  They’ve done so much for you and you know they still will so you don’t want everyone to be upset.

Arthur: Don’t you think that is enough syrup? 

Theo: Did I ask?

Theo is still pouring syrup on his pancakes.  You start to think it's going to pour over the plate.  The most amazing thing is that when he’s done there won’t be any left on his plate.

Arthur: And how much sugar did you put in your coffee?

Theo: Again, I don’t think I asked

He starts eating his drenched pancakes.  Meanwhile Vincent is beside him eating his pancakes with a new jam you picked up earlier in the week.  A normal amount of it too.

You set a plate down in front of Arthur.  All he asked for today was waffles and eggs.  You have already refilled his mug once this morning.

Mitsuki: Are you working on a new book, Arthur?  You only drink this much when you have been awake for hours.

Arthur: I’m trying to but I am a little stuck right now.

Theo: Are you doing anything this afternoon, Hondje?

Mitsuki: This afternoon?  I had some shopping I needed to do.  Why?

Theo: I have to pick up a few paintings from an artist in town and need a hand carrying them.

Mitsuki: Doesn’t Vincent normally help you with that?

Theo: Yeah but he is busy getting some paintings done for the gallery we are having later this month.

Vincent had pancakes in his mouth and couldn’t speak when you brought up his name. But he did nod his head when Theo explained.

Mitsuki: I would be happy to help

Theo: I will help you with your shopping afterwards

You smile and end up leaving the dining room to let Sebastian know and to get a full list of what you guys need.

Arthur: I thought you were done with all of your paintings for the gallery?

Vincent: I am

Vincent looks at Theo since this was his idea.

Theo: You know how she’s been.  Having her help with the gallery would help her keep her mind off of everything.

Arthur: Aren’t you a softy~

~~

Later that morning you left with Theo and your shopping list and took a carriage into town.  The carriage took you straight to the artist’s apartment where you and Theo picked up a few paintings for the gallery.  For now you were going to keep them in an art studio until the venue was available to them to get prepared.  Theo explained that he wanted to get most of the paintings together to figure out how he was going to do the layout.  

Once the paintings were inside and safe he followed you to help you with your shopping.  You only needed to stop in two shops to get things for dinner and for breakfast tomorrow. 

Mitsuki: …more coffee for Arthur, more maple syrup since you used the rest this morning

Theo: It was barely enough too

Mitsuki: I think you used quite enough

Theo chuckles while carrying the bags for you while you look over the list.

Mitsuki: That should be everything on the list.

Theo: Actually there’s something I need to get real quick. Stay right here and I’ll be back.

You take the bags from him and sit on a bench.  What did he need to get that would make him tell you to stay?  You watch people walk by as you finally relax.  Looking past all the people you can see the Seine.  You are so lost in your thoughts you barely realize you are staring at someone.  Their back is to you so it's not like they would know.  But after a few moments you realize and actually concentrate on the person.

They have a canvas on an easel and are painting what you assume is the scene in front of them.  Thinking it could be one of the artists Theo has introduced you to, you take your bags and walk over.  As you get closer you aren’t too sure if you do know them.  But then you became mesmerized by the painting.  You didn’t realize how close you were and it didn’t seem like he noticed either.

Where have you seen that style before?

The man stopped for a moment to stretch and realized someone was not far behind him and he turned his head.

???: Oh, hello!

(Chap 1 cg is by MY BEAUTIFUL AND MAZING WIFEYYY @weird-profiterole

~~~

Now that you see his face you aren’t sure if he’s much over the age of 18.  The only way you could describe his face is fairly androgynous.  The curves of his face were soft, he had long lashes, but just subtle shadows let you know for sure that he’s a guy.  His long red hair was very curly, almost like ringlet curls, but as if they were brushed out.  His eyes were the same kind of gray as storm clouds, but that smile he had gave them so much life.

You took a step back, even you didn’t realize how close you were. 

Mitsuki: Sorry! I saw you painting and got curious.

???: That’s okay. If I didn’t want people to watch I wouldn’t be painting in the open.

You tear your eyes away from his welcoming smile and look back at the painting.  You aren’t sure what story it is telling, but it's definitely not the scenery in front of you.

Mitsuki: What are you painting?

The man looks back at his canvas.  The painting is in its starting stages.  It looked like he just finished blocking everything out and was starting to add more detail.

???: It’s the story of Hyacinthus and Apollo. 

You haven't heard of that one. You keep your eyes on the blocked out canvas trying to make out the shapes.  His style definitely doesn’t fit the style most artists have in this time.  Impressionism is what is popular now in Paris.  You couldn’t tell what style he was painting in yet, but even if it was close to being done you probably still wouldn’t know what it was called.

Mitsuki: I bet it's going to look beautiful.  What are you-

Theo: There you are, hondje!  Didn’t I tell you to stay? 

Theo came rushing over holding a new bag.  Where did he go?

???: Hondje?  Well that’s a unique name

The red head laughed and started mixing a new color on his pallet.  You felt your face getting red.  You were really hoping this man didn’t know what that meant.  He didn’t sound like he was from France.

Mitsuki: My name is Mitsuki!

You pout and nearly stomp your foot like a child. 

???: Beautiful name for a beautiful woman~

You could feel your face getting warm again, but for a different reason.

???: My name is Andrea

~~~

Masterlist | Next

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[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th Girl

××《☆》××

××《☆》××

Some chances are taken too late. You only realise what you've lost when you're starting to lose them. Goodbyes are hard, especially when you've just started.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST, turn back now I'm warning you, goodbyes, intimate scenes, MAJOR heartbreak, swearing

References to Call Me By Your Name

===

===

Chapter eight: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph

===

It was hot that morning. I woke up in a layer of sweat, windows exuding heat, hair clinging on my neck, my blanket on the hardwood floor.

George sits on the window frame, taking the heat opposite of how I was.

I get up, groaning with a slight headache. I place my feet on the floor, keeping my eyes closed for the time being, trying to relax and gain back my senses.

There'd been a feeling in me this whole time, but as I woke up, it felt so much more evident. A clench in my chest.

I don't know where it came from or when it started, but I felt it there. It never really took my attention. Maybe it was from whatever position I was in. Or if I hadn't eaten or drank enough.

Summer is just around the corner, but I don't want it to start. It was always something I looked forward to.

Dipping into cold waters under the heat of the afternoon sun, eating fruits with their juices spilling over countertops and silverware. Tanning, sunburns, dry mouths from salt water. Then winter comes and you wait for summer again.

It's probably because I'm expecting something I know won't be there. But what is it? I have a summer job now, and I'm headed to Paris. What else could I possibly want?

I know exactly what. It's not that I'm afraid of it. It's because I can't change it. And it hurts.

Summer is when I'm supposed to be happy. He's ruined all of that now. I've got to get a grip, too. He won't care, so I shouldn't. But I care. I care a lot.

This isn't something I should think about. I'll forget him as soon as I get to Paris. I'll forget anything that's happened between us, even if nothing really did. I'll forget, and I'll forever have that feeling that I felt now. That something's there, and I'm not giving it attention.

Because deep down, I know what it is. And, it hurts.

××《☆》××

The walk to school was short-lived and ordinary. Nothing special happened. It was just brighter; which didn't really match my mood.

I was also a bit late. Most of the students were already heading in, and the bell rang as soon as I stepped through the gate.

I make my way up the staircase, keeping my head downcast and not paying anyone any mind.

All throught class it wasn't special. We did assignments, lectures, and all common school things. But the sound of pages being flipped, ink on paper, pattering of floorboards, it comforted me. I knew those sounds would stay with me throughout my life. People don't.

When class was dismissed, I took my time. I might not see this school again. I might move back to Paris. I might not see Michèle or Simone as much. And I won't, more so refuse to see Joseph ever.

It was afternoon now, so everything's brighter than this morning. And everything's hotter, too. I shade my face with my hands, squinting to see Callum's well-known car on the side of the road.

He's outside leaning on the door, smoking. I'm guessing his third cigarette today. He still has his wide smile on, and I wonder if his cheeks ever hurt.

"Good afternoon, pretty girl." He says as he patches his cigarette out. "How are you?"

"Hot." I shrug, going around the car with Callum as he opens the passenger door for me. I get inside, him as well after doing another roundabout the car.

"Well, love how you state what I already know." I think about that sentence for a while, sensing it was off. I realise what he meant, and I smack his arm.

"Oh, what now? Let me be funny!" I roll my eyes as he starts the car, a faint smile on my face. One thing I know for sure is that Callum is one of the people who would stay with me throughout my life. He was the reason I'm going back to Paris, the reason I have somewhat of a career. And I'm glad I met him, even with the circumstances of difficult feelings.

Whilst I talked about my day to him, I had realised nothing special happened because I didn't interact with Joseph. The day felt gloomy. It felt so underwhelming, so boring, because he wasn't involved.

"And it's so weird because we hadn't talked since that dinner." I tell Callum, who's been listening to me this whole time. We decided to go to a lake to cool off. It was a bit well known, but not too crowded since the school season isn’t off yet.

I made a quick pick up in my house, including a goodbye to George.

Going back, Callum nods. His hand flexes on the steering wheel.

"So, let me round this up. Joseph's mother invited you to dinner, then teased both you and him, then when he walks you out to their place, some girl-"

"The girl from the alley."

"The girl from the alley pops up from nowhere, fully dressed up."

"Exactly."

"But, why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"I mean, sure, I've never met her, but who could compete against you?"

"Okay, Callum, whatever-"

"No, I mean, how stupid can Joseph be to pick anyone but you?" This makes my breath catch on my throat.

"Don't call him stupid, Callum. He's fucking brilliant."

He quiets down, smile fading just a bit from my serious tone.

"Sorry." I had apologised.

"No need. It's fine. I just... you know what I meant."

"Yeah, I knew what you meant. Just... instict, you know?"

"I get that. You're in love, so you're defensive." He shrugs and starts to smile again. He's holding in a laugh.

"Shut up." I glare.

"Not gonna happen." I don't want it to happen.

××《☆》××

The next morning was the same. It was hot, I took a longer shower, got dressed, said goodbye to George, and headed to school.

This time, I met with Simone. I ask her about Michèle, getting worried that she hasn't come to school for two days straight. Before she could respond, she stopped in her tracks, seeing Jean Pierre across the hall.

"I- I'm sorry, Y/N, but I really need to talk to Jean Pierre. Stay here, please?" She scrunches up her face in guilt, but I simply shrug it off, knowing that if she wants to talk to someone, I shouldn't stop her. Especially if that someone is her boyfriend. Or whatever he is.

They go ahead to talk, me staying at the same place she left me, keeping a close eye on them. I lean against the wall, the hallway now a lot more quiet than when the bell rang a few minutes ago.

Their conversation lasted for only a bit because I saw Jean Pierre walking away. I head to Simone's side.

"So, what did you talk about?" She's still, and there's no emotion on her face. I worry.

"He just broke up with me." Oh. I pull her into a side hug, not knowing whether she was devastated with the news or if she was okay with it. She looked like both but neither at the same time.

I nod towards the stairwell, deciding for the both of us we should head to the courtyard to have our break. Or the bathroom for a quick cry.

We pass by a group of boys, and one of them keeps his eyes on me. Then, when I turned to glance at who it was, I realised it was just an eye.

In that moment, everything in me faded away. All the hate towards him, all the sadness, all the misunderstanding. I just wanted to talk to him again. For one last time. So I did.

"Joseph," I stop in my tracks. I tell Simone to keep going, that I'm fine left alone. She nods in acknowledgement and walks down the staircase.

I turn around to meet his stare. My breath catches in my throat, not having this kind of interaction in a while.

I walk towards him, a bit slow. "Can I talk to you?" I pause. "Alone?"

His friends tease him and push him around lightly, but his eyes are still as well as his whole body. I fear his heart might be, too.

He simply nods and silently eyes his friends to go. We're left alone near the window and take a seat in the space.

"You must be wondering why I'm talking to you again so suddenly." He stays quiet, looking down.

"Joseph..." I scoot closer. I bring both my hands up to his cheeks, only hovering above them.

He stays silent. I bring my hands back until he leans forward and into them, gently grabbing my wrists and holding them still. I feel the air come out of his nose as he exhales, body slumping down.

"I'm sorry. For everything. Ignoring you was one of the most stupid things I've done. Being angry was second." I tilt my head to see if he's opened his eye, but he keeps them closed. His thumb rubs one of my wrists.

"You should be with anyone you want to be with. It shouldn't matter to me. But, it did." He lifts his head, peering an eye. His mouth opens, then closes again. I keep going.

"I missed you. I've been missing you. I miss all the times we weren't mad at each other." I caress his cheeks, and he leans into my touch.

"I was never mad at you." Joseph says, but I shake my head.

"You were. And that's fine. It's okay to be mad at me. I get it." He furrows his brows at me.

"Don't say that. I was never mad at you. I've never been mad at you."

"But what about all those times you shouted at me? Those times in the streets?" He sighs deeply, not as relaxed as before.

"I was mad at myself, but I was letting it out on you. And I'm sorry about that. But trust me, I could never be mad at you."

We just stare at each other after. The silence fills the air, and it's the first time it was like this in a while. I had to tell him.

"I'm leaving." I feel his breath stop, and it's so nauseating.

"What?" He mumbles out.

"I'm leaving." I repeat.

"For the summer?" He squints, the gears turning in his head. I wish it was only for the summer.

"No," I look down. "For good."

He pulls away from my hands, sitting straight again.

"No..." He shakes his head. "Don't lie to me."

"I would never." I look him dead in the eye, not wanting him to think that I would ever do.

"Exactly. I know you'd never. So why are you lying to me now? This is some joke, right? Like a cliffhanger for next year. Right?" I simply stare at him.

"Y/N, please tell me you're lying. I'll let it slide. Tell me you're lying." He begs, grabbing a hold of my dropped hands.

I don't move. I don't look at him. I don't say anything. That was enough of an answer.

"No..." He whispers. He does it all over again as he gets up and paces. He rubs at his eye, and I get up and say "Stop."

He stills. I see the tear stains reflect off his cheeks from the sunlight outside coming in. His head is down as it was before. I sigh deeply, placing my hands on his shoulders.

"Come here." I pull him in, and he immediately engulfs me in an embrace. He sobs desperately, and I try my hardest not to join him.

A series of "please don't go"s spill out of his quivering mouth, and my brain goes numb. He's shaking. His heart is pounding. His mind's all over the place.

I hush him, rubbing his back like I do with a baby, whispering nothings into his ear. When he stops, his body is still slumped down to hold mine.

"We wasted so many days. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He asks once we're sat back down the window.

"I tried. I promise. We were still mad." He laughs, and it's been such a long time that my brain got nostalgia.

"Fuck. I'm gonna miss you all over again." He bites his lip as he looks down, fiddling with the inseam of his pants. I purse my lips together.

"We'll keep in touch." He shakes his head.

"You'd be everywhere."

"I'll call your home phone."

"I'm not gonna be home in the summer."

"I'll call wherever you are."

"Thank god you thought of something for that because I was ready to start sobbing again." He laughs again, and the suns back in his eyes. Like it left and came back.

I grab a hold of his hands, stopping him from fidgeting. I make him look back up at me.

"I promise I'll phone you every day. I'll send you letters, postcards, and pictures. I'll even send you some magazines I'm in." I shrug, and he smiles.

"I don't think you have to do that last one. I'm keeping my eye on every magazine booth here on out." We chuckle together. We stay quiet again, then Joseph tucks my hair behind my ear.

"You're beautiful, Y/N Pardine. You'll do great out there. I'm only a phone call or a pen away." I flush at his bluntness and smile sweetly. He does, too.

××《☆》××

The party happened. We spent almost the whole time together. We had even danced.

An American song called "At Last" plays in the background as Joseph holds me, dancing slowly.

His hands cup my waist, my arms wrapped around his neck, his forehead against mine. I play with the ends of his hair as he caresses my body.

We laugh, we drink, we talk, and we glance. We do what we missed. We held each other. We absorbed one another.

There was a time in that party that happened between Simone and Jean Pierre. Thank god he finally said something of the truth, because that breakup was a straight lie.

Anyways, the night ended, but nothing happened. I don't know what I was expecting, but there was a feeling something special could've happened to me. Like a string tugging on my insides.

Something to do with pretty pink lips.

××《☆》××

The next morning, I woke up with his arms around me.

He smelt of fading whiskey, cigarette smoke, and expensive cologne. Just as he always did.

His eye patch was off, his hair a mess, and his jacket's on the floor. His shirt is wrinkled, he's breathing evenly as one does in their sleep, and there's a small snore coming from him. It's adorable.

When I get up, or at least try to, his grip on me tightens. Not in a way that hurts, but it's strong enough for me to come collapsing on his chest. He's warm again.

"Five more minutes." He groans, and I sigh deeply. Five more minutes will be alright.

Ten minutes pass, and only then do we get up. I hand him a towel and some clothes, my father's again, then one of my own, then usher him to the bathroom. I fix our bed, pick his jacket up off the floor, and fold it neatly.

Once I hear the shower turn off and the door creak, I try my best not to turn and just... stare. It's creepy, I know. But, who could blame me? I mean, I was leaving for good.

Right. Leaving for good.

I feel his arms wrap around my waist, his head tucking into my neck, his nose poking at some sensitive spots. I squeal silently, and he chuckles to himself, the vibration of his chest spreading around my back.

"Want some breakfast?" He whispers. George lies by the windowsill, watching the both of us in embrace. His tail moves around, eyes blinking slowly. He's glowing from the sunlight hitting him.

"If you don't mind. Please, and thank you." I turn my head a bit towards him. He nods, pressing a kiss to my hair. I smile to myself whilst I check things off my list last minute.

He's done with breakfast by the time I finish my quick shower. I'm fully dressed now. The only things missing are my coat and my suitcases.

Joseph sits across from me. We were in this position before.

"So, how's Callum? Still a prick?" He says as he stabs on some of the eggs he made. I finish my bite before answering.

"Callum's doing fine. I don't know why you've always been so off about him. He's a good guy." I shrug, tilting my head for an answer. "What's got you like that?"

He sighs, dropping his utensils gently on the table top. I place a hand over his, and he turns it to hold mine.

"Felt like he stole you from me." He mumbles, but it was clear enough for me to hear.

I purse my lips at this remark. "No one's gonna keep me away from you. Except that girl that actually did." I laugh as Joseph groans.

"I already told you, I didn't even know her." From this, I kept going.

"Well, then why did you basically call me a slut?" I raise my eyebrows in amusement, as to show that I moved on from it. Still, I was curious.

He pauses. For a long time. I begin to worry, thinking he actually meant it. I try to pull my hand away, but his grip turns firm.

"No." Joseph whispers out of desperation. He's taking deep breaths. I can tell he's overthinking. But I need to know the truth.

"You've got to tell me, Joseph. Otherwise, we'll shrug each other off again. Do you want that?" I push on him. He needs to tell me. I need to know.

"No. I don't want that. Just..." He closes his eyes, readying himself.

"The boys wanted to talk to you. I couldn't let them. I knew how they meant. And I'll just put it simply that they meant badly. So I had to tell them things about you that weren't true so they could get pushed away from the idea of you." He cups my cheeks from across the table. I lean into his touch.

"I don't want anyone to take advantage of you. Thank whatever god is up there that I found out because if I hadn't..." He breathes in deeply, caressing my face with his thumb. "I don't even want to think about that. Okay?"

I nod. I get up from my seat to give him a hug. He remains seated, his face pressed up on my stomach. I rub his back and comb fingers through his hair.

He stands up slowly, hands still attached to my hips. They roam up to my wait as he hovers over me, and I feel my breath hitch in my throat. He's so close. His nose just bumps into mine. He's looking down at me. At my eyes. At my lips. His breath is haggard.

"Callum's probably waiting." I whisper, my breath fanning over both our lips. Our lips only an inch away from eachother.

"Let him wait." His voice is low. He's starting to make my knees buckle.

A loud crash is heard throughout the flat. I yelp away from him. Now we're feet away from each other, cheeks flushed and hair tousled. As if we did something. And we didn't even.

George meows on the kitchen counter, staring at us innocently with the keys now on the floor. I sigh deeply, walking towards him and picking him up.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but," I hand George to Joseph. "My baby's yours."

His eye widens in surprise, then he switches his gaze from me to the cat, then back to me, then back to the cat.

"I can't..." I shake my head, smiling.

"He's yours, Joseph. That's final. He already loves you more than me. It's alright. Plus everytime you see him, you think of me."

He flushes, demeanour relaxing. "I already think of you too much."

It's my turn to flush now. But I respond. "Good."

××《☆》××

We arrive at the train station. I bid a thank you and goodbye to Joseph's mother, hugging her for a short while. Joseph carries all my belongings.

I spot Callum at a bench.

"Callum, you remember Joseph." I nod to Joseph. He drops my things next to Callum's.

"Of course I do. The infamous lover boy. It was nice meeting you, man." Callum shakes Joseph's hand. Joseph purses his lips tightly, gripping on Callum's hand.

"I'm still not sure about you... but she trusts you, so I should, too." Callum nods firmly. They let go of their handshake.

"Well, I better get our things in. Say your final goodbyes." He moves to go in the train. Me and Joseph are alone again.

"Got your pretty things intact?" Joseph teases, and I simply laugh.

"Yes, I do." I look up at him. He moves closer, hands on his hips.

"One day, I'll hear those words again." There's a feeling in me. Like dejavu, but a feeling from the future. I couldn't explain it, but what he said made sense. Like I knew, I would say those words again, too.

We stand in silence. I walked closer, embracing him for one last time. He leans down, his hands tight around me, his head over mine. I feel a lump in my throat.

We held each other for one last time. We smelt each other for one last time. We absorbed each other one last time.

I try to pull away, but he pulls me back in. The lump grows bigger.

When we finally pull away, my eyes start to sting. I palm my throat, trying to push that growing lump down. His hands are on my shoulders. He lets go.

"Goodbye, Y/N Pardine." He mutters, his voice breaking.

"Goodbye, Joseph Descamps." I mock him with a smile on my face.

I turn around and walk on the train. Joseph follows me, guiding me up the steps. His hand holds onto mine. I hang on the pole.

The train blares its horns, and it starts to move very slowly. The tears escape my eyes. He wipes it away.

"Y/N," he says. "I love you."

I sob. I laugh. It's a bit ugly.

"I love you, too. So much."

He stands on his toes and kisses me. His pretty pink lips are finally on mine. I grip the trains pole harder.

The trains blares again, and my kisses become more desperate. The train moves faster and faster, and Joseph starts to run. His lips start parting from mine, tears dropping even more.

"Come back to me, Y/N!" He shouts. He's still running. He's laughing now. And he's crying. He's beautiful. He gets farther, farther, and farther.

Then he's gone.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter eight: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph

Next- Chapter nine: ______

××《☆》××

I'm actually crying omfg. This hits so diff w the song in the background. Its short but omfg the angst. Help me. Hahhahahahaha.

[levihanskid]

‘Till the End of the Line: Bakugo Katsuki’s Twin AU chapter 1

Ch2 ao3 link wattpad link i haven’t made a fic in years so idk how this is gonna go, but i’ve been cooking this one for a while now! i’m planning to make more in the future but idk

“Where the hell is that bastard?” the girl muttered to herself as she stares at her phone, pissed at her twin brother for not picking up her calls. 

She and Katsuki were supposed to meet up at the grocery store and run some errands after school. Although it seems like the other twin had forgotten about it and decided to storm off somewhere.

The girl walked towards the nearby shopping district, with her long sand blonde hair swaying with the wind. As she approached the store, she fished her phone out of her pocket and attempted to call her brother one last time.

The phone rang for a second before a sudden explosion reached her ears. It seems to be in quite some distance since the sound was not as loud, but it still caught her attention. She saw people on the main street running in different directions, some ran towards the commotion, while others went the opposite way in a panic. 

She heard the sounds of explosions again, this time a lot louder for her to hear properly and recognize. The awfully familiar noise made her stomach twist. Who wouldn’t recognize the sound of their own twin’s quirk?

The blonde girl marched into the crowd, which was a few blocks away from where she was at. Anxiety engulfs her as the explosions continued and smoke started rising. She knew right at that moment that it was something serious, because she knows for a fact that Katsuki wouldn’t carelessly use his quirk that much in public if he wanted a clean record before getting into high school. Her twin brother is in real trouble.

As she finally reached the commotion, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. From the other side of the road, she could see the street on fire. The scene made her stop on her tracks, her crimson eyes wide as she makes out the figure of a sludge looking thing enveloping a kid with the same hair and eyes identical to hers.

The sight made her stand on her spot frozen as questions ran through her mind. What the hell is happening? Why is that thing trying to kill her brother? Where are the pro heroes? Surely they will help him, right? 

Another batch of explosions snapped her out of her brain and to her disappointment, her last question was answered. A giant hero stood on the side of a street just watching the boy struggle. With furrowed brows, she scanned the area and saw the other pro-heroes standing around and doing nothing to rescue her brother. 

Her anxiety was immediately replaced with raging anger when she realized that no one was trying to help Katsuki. She began crossing the road as tears welled up her eyes. 

“No you idiot! Stop! You’re gonna get yourself killed!”

She heard people gasp and pro-heroes yelling at another kid running to the villain. That unmistakably curly green hair… no way. Is Izuku trying to help Katsuki right now? Out of all people, a quirkless, scrawny boy is the one trying to rescue her brother?

Out of the corner of her eye, a skinny man seemed to have grown five times larger his size and jumped up. She didn’t pay much attention as she was too distracted to what was happening in front of her.

She was struggling to enter the scene because of the crowd when All Might appeared out of nowhere. Everything happened so fast, All Might quickly grabbed the two boys as he punched the villain, yelling his signature move. Everyone was stunned for a moment as they saw how the number one hero changed the weather because of his powerful move. But that’s none of her concern, she didn’t waste anymore time and quickly ran to her brother. 

***

“WHAT KIND OF PRO-HEROES ARE YOU?!?” the girl’s voice thundered. 

Moments after All Might’s victory over the sludge villain, media arrived to cover the incident. People praised Katsuki for his bravery, while they scolded Izuku for running into the scene like an idiot. Which riled her up even more.

“How could you just stand around knowing a villain is trying to kill someone!?” she continued yelling at the pros. 

“Mitsuko, calm down. You’re too loud,” Katsuki said in a low, raspy voice.

“No, I will not calm down!” she regarded her twin before turning back to the pro-heroes. “You call yourselves heroes yet you can’t do anything against a single villain even when you have the numbers?!”

“Relax kid, none of us had the quirk to go against that slime villain so we had to wait for someone with the appropriate ability. We did everything we could, we kept the damage to a minimum and kept civilians safe,” the hero with a large build said. He’s wearing a yellow and black-striped headband that matches his wrist guards and the belt around his waist. Mitsuko recognized him as the Punching Hero: Death Arms.

“Besides, your brother is fine. He was able to hold off on his own. You should be glad he had such powerful quirk,” the woman who was a giant earlier added, which she didn’t recognize at all so she assumed that the hero was fairly new. 

“And what if the victim was another person? What if it was someone who was not strong enough to fight the villain off? Would you be able to live up to that if someone died because you weren’t able to do anything to help?” Mitsuko said in a stern voice, eyeing every single pro-hero in front of her. 

The heroes fell silent so she chuckled in disbelief. “I can’t believe a middle schooler beat you in having the balls to at least try and do something.” 

She picked up her brother, who has been sitting on the floor, and started walking away. “Come on, Suki. Let’s go home.”

The twins walked home in silence. None of them dared to speak until Katsuki stopped before a corner of a street. 

“You go ahead, I want to do something first,” he told his sister as he started walking to a different direction.

“Hell no. Do you think I’d let you go on your own after all that? Are you stupid?” Mitsuri raised an eyebrow.

“Just go! I can handle myself!” he yelled at her without stopping in his tracks.

Mitsuko could hear the exhaustion lingering in her brother’s usual rude tone. So she decided not to follow but to wait for him instead.

“Fine, I’ll just wait for you here. Just hurry up or mom’s gonna kill us.”

Several minutes passed before she saw her brother walking back with hands in his pockets and his back slouched. None of them spoke as they navigated their route home.

***

The twins were greeted with their father’s worried face the second they opened the door of the Bakugo residence. 

“We saw the news. Are you guys okay? Were you hurt, son?”

Katsuki let out an audible scoff. “I’m fine, old man! I could’ve freed myself on my own if no one intervened!” 

“STOP LYING!” their mom yelled before walking out the kitchen. “If you weren’t so stupid you wouldn’t be in that situation in the first place!”

“SHUT UP! It wasn’t my fault that some heroes were dumb enough to let that ugly slime loose! He was so weak I could beat the hell out of him!” the boy yelled back.

“Could you guys at least let us take our shoes off and walk in? Jeez,” Mitsuko said in a condescending tone.

“AND DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO GET GROCERIES BEFORE COMING HOME?!”

“Right. Well, you see my brother here got into a slimy situation so we forgot. Sorry about that,” she pointed her thumb at her brother, unbothered by the volume of their mom’s voice.

“It’s fine, I can get the groceries later,” their dad said, trying to calm everyone down. “Dinner is ready, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

Katsuki and their mom’s banter continued to the dining table. Still talking about the incident and how much of an idiot Katsuki was for getting in trouble. Mitsuko didn’t mind, she focused on eating her food in hopes of not getting the same yelling her brother was having. After dinner, the twins automatically stood up to help cleaning up but was stopped by their mother.

“I’ll do the dishes. You guys go and wash up. Especially you, Katsuki!! You reek of sewer and trash!” unlike her tone before, she said that in a much friendlier way except that she didn’t miss the opportunity to scold one of her twins.

***

After washing up and changing into her pajamas, Mitsuko sat at her desk, facing her laptop. A video of her yelling at the pro-heroes earlier is playing on the screen. The news didn’t include her in the reports, but some citizen had taken a video of the scene and uploaded it to the internet, which garnered tons of views and attention. She only found out about it when some of her classmates notified her and sent her the link.

Mitsuko could clearly see her furious expression from the angle the video was taken, and she wondered what kind of impression that gave to other people, especially the heroes. Just as she was about to open the comment section to see what people think, a hand came from behind and closed her laptop shut. She looked up from her shoulder and saw her twin standing next to her, holding a mug of milk chocolate. She realized how unaware she was because she didn’t even hear him come in her room.

“Don’t even bother paying attention to that video. Most of the comments are full of morons,” Katsuki told her before setting the mug on her desk and plopping down her bed.

“You read the comments? What did it say?” Mitsuko asked, sipping her milk chocolate. It relaxed her a bit, and she silently thanked her brother for always remembering her comfort drink.

“Yeah, most of them are just dumb enough to not know the context before putting down a comment, calling you disrespectful and whatnot. While some of them agree with what you said. Especially with the ‘what if the victim was someone weak’ statement,” Katsuki answered, taking one of her pillows and wrapping his arms around it. “You didn’t have to say that, you know.”

“What? And have you get all the spotlight?” she raised a teasing eyebrow to her brother. “There’s no way I’ll let you have all the fame.”

The boy sat up, and was about to hit his sister with the pillow before realizing that she is still holding the mug. “I’m just saying! I get what the heroes were trying to say. Even if they tried, none of them had the quirk to counter that sludge. It’s unfortunate, but they did everything they could.”

Mitsuko put the mug down and crossed her arms. “I just don’t like the idea of just watching someone struggle and nearly die. I hate to say this but even Deku had more balls than those heroes.”

“That damn nerd is an idiot! Don’t even remind me of him! You should have seen his face. The moron was obviously terrified. And he had the guts to dream about getting into U.A. Thinking about it makes me want to puke,” her brother exclaimed.

“Well, at least he tried to do something,” she said in a low voice, facing away from her twin. “I couldn’t even do anything. I was frozen in my spot, my mind was all over the place and I couldn’t think straight. I don’t know what I would do if something bad did happen to you with me there.” She doesn’t want to admit it, but she felt guilty that she didn’t react faster to help him, when she knew damn well that her brother would’ve done everything he could if it was her in that position. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Katsuki sat up straight, whirling her chair around so they could face each other. “It’s over and I’m fine, stop overthinking things. Besides, that’s why we train right? So we can handle our own shit and not rely on each other every time,” her brother looked at her in the eyes with a serious expression. “Not that I need it, cause I’m stronger than you,” he added and his face grew into an annoying grin. 

“Don’t kid yourself,” Mitsuko rolled her eyes before drinking her milk chocolate ‘till the bottom’s up. “The reason I train is so I can become a better hero than those ones earlier. Someone who is able to help in any situation,” she added. It has always been the twins’ dream to become the best heroes. As kids, they used to role play with one twin playing as the hero who rescues the other and vice versa. 

“That reminds me, did you fill up those forms they gave to the classes earlier? The one where you put your school of choice for high school?” her brother asked.

“Yep. Obviously I only put U.A. and nothing else. I’m sure I’ll get in easily. Wouldn’t it be funny if I passed and you didn’t? That would be embarrassing,” she replied, teasing her twin again.

Knowing that she had finished her drink, Katsuki hit her with the pillow he’s been holding. “Like I’d fucking let that happen! And if you didn’t pass I would definitely not want to be seen with you, either!” he yelled and stood up to walk towards the door. “I’m going to bed. Don’t you dare stay up late! We have our morning run tomorrow! I swear I will literally throw you out of your bed if you’re not up!”

Mitsuko laughed, proud that she successfully annoyed her brother once again. “How the hell am I supposed to sleep now? You just gave me a chocolate drink!”

“That’s why I put milk in it you idiot!” Katsuki screamed before shutting the door. 

***

Like her usual routine, Mitsuko woke up before the crack of dawn, but this time she had dark circles under her eyes making it evident that she stayed up later than normal. Despite her twin’s advice to not read the comments under the viral video, she was too stubborn and still decided to go through them. The public’s opinion was mixed up, there were some who criticized her for being ungrateful. While some applauded her for being able to speak up and call the heroes out, which started debates on whether or not heroes are competent enough to do their job.

Part of her felt guilty for what she did, maybe she was wrong for lashing out at the heroes before knowing their side of the story. After all, they were pros, they knew better than she does. Now those heroes are getting hate comments on the internet because of her.

However, another part of her has too much ego and refuses to admit she did anything wrong. If there’s one thing Mitsuko hates, it’s people not living up to what they said they would do. Those pro-heroes became heroes because they exerted efforts to have their licenses and work as professionals. If they can’t do anything about a simple incident, then maybe they should just find another job.

An impatient knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right out,” she stood in front of her mirror to put her hair up, grabbed a face towel and walked out of her room.

She walked down the stairs to see Katsuki standing by the front door holding a piece of toast on his left hand, while he munches on another with his right hand. Mitsuko eyed him, and chuckled at the very similar outfit they were wearing.

“Wow, Suki. You really love idolizing me, huh?” she teased, taking the toast from her brother.

Both of them wore black tank tops, gray jogging pants, and the same pair of shoes that they got last Christmas. It’s not rare for them to have some twin telepathy moment, but it was still amusing.

“Shut the fuck up! I finished before you did so if anything it’s you that’s copying me!” Katsuki flicked her forehead before heading out, lowering his voice so he doesn’t wake their parents up.

The twins started jogging, and by the time they reached the beach, the sun could be seen in the horizon. The stopped by the shore and did some stretching. Mitsuko faced the sun rise, her head held high and arms stretching out on both sides. When the sun rays hit her skin, she took a deep breath and felt the energy fill her system like she’s a battery getting charged up. Her brother, continuing his stretches, watched her skin glow as bright as the morning sun.

Despite being twins, Katsuki and Mitsuko had different quirks. While Katsuki can produce nitroglycerin-like sweat and can make them explode on command, Mitsuko’s pores absorb sunlight and act like solar panels. She converts the sunlight into her own energy, which she then can create into solar barriers and blasts. Having sunlight to absorb is essential for her quirk, so doing a run before sunrise has become her routine. Since sweating opens up her pores and she gets the best amount of energy from sunrise.

The girl opened her eyes, and faced her twin, her body still glowing from the absorption. “We better come up with a new training plan if we want to get into U.A.” she told him, not feeling satisfied with her current physical condition.

“We have a few months. The written exam is a piece of cake, I doubt that we would have a hard time passing that one,” her brother replied. When it comes to academics, both of them can pass anything with no efforts. “It’s the practical exam you should worry about, because I’ll definitely beat you.”

“Stop being delusional, the only thing you’re good at is acting like a rabid chihuahua,” Mitsuko tried hiding her laugh but failed.

“THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!?” before Katsuki could do anything, his sister had already sprinted away from him. “COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. He ran after her, small explosions coming out of his balled fists. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

[tainbocuailnge]

it sucks that all the knight parts of arknights ch11 are just not great. i think they're very good at writing the struggles and resistance of ordinary people through the salvation corps and people like miss golding and feist's grandma, and also at like the terror of facing powerful sarkaz in battle and amiya briefly experiencing the ancestral suffering of existing as a sarkaz and stuff like that, so from one scene to another the tension is maintained well enough even if i think the pacing isn't great. except when it's about the glasgow gang. when it's about them there's just suddenly nothing happening.

and it's not unclear what they're supposed to be contributing to the story here: victoria had been falling apart under the selfish greed of its nobility long before the sarkaz occupied the city, and to save victoria requires having a vision of how you want to define victoria, of what parts of victoria can and should be saved. the culture of victoria built much of its sense of honor and justice on the image of its (steam) knights so there is a message in the steam knights being missing and the heir to the throne and her knights being a street gang. what is worth swearing loyalty to as a knight when the difference between the throne and the people, between the concept and the lived reality of victoria is so vast? these are classic knight themes and very easy to work with because of how timeless they are. there is potential too in the contrast between victoria's lost knights (as an ideal warrior that fights to defend its homeland) versus the sarkaz mercenary soldiers (the reality of warriors fighting to reclaim and avenge a lost home) and how people like horn straddle the line. they touch on it briefly when golding laments that the play about the steam knights that she hoped would teach the kids knightly ideals only cements the image of the steam knights as a bludgeon against their enemies.

but every time the focus is on the actual royal heir and her knights they keep telling you the same shit. vina is an important figure. vina has an important choice to make soon. vina has much responsibility on her shoulders. vina has many people putting their trust in her to make an important choice soon because she is important. shit dude we've known that since the game released, we were all waiting for the main story to go to victoria and finally let her do shit, and now 2 chapters of 20+ stages in victoria later she's still not really done anything at all except stand around and have other people tell you how important she is and how she's definitely gonna do something important any moment now. all this effort to get her hands on the royal sword with hardly any indication of siege's own capabilities or convictions as a ruler. everyone in glasgow gang keeps gassing her up and she's just standing there.

so you end up not buying any of the knightly ideals they're talking about because for every time dagda or indra or morgan say they're protecting victoria and its future by sucking up to siege there's a factory worker risking it all and building a doohickey to actually make a stand with. and when you finally find the sword of victoria's kings your path is barred by the last steam knight who still moves through pure strength of will to protect the one thing he can still truly say is "the victoria he fought for", and you're not even obligated to actually fight him. man, what are we even doing here then.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Ten - A Chemistry Lesson

W/C: 8.2K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

And for once, you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

You Are In Love - T.S.

A/N: so i decided to split the chapter up, I started moving into another scene and it only felt right to give it it's own chapter as it opens up the night. i hope you guys love this chapter as much as i love this chapter <3

Masterlist

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“Dustin Henderson!”  The younger boy shoves past both of them confidently, his hand shaking yours impressively.

“We have heard so much–”  Robin begins though she’s cut off by Steve lightly smacking a hand against her stomach.

Frozen.  You’re frozen in time, an influx of information and new faces rendering you a speechless idiot.  Each one stares expectantly, awaiting some kind of a response, more than likely drawing their own conclusions about your silence and lack of communication.  They were going to be so disappointed in your shyness should they even have the patience to wait around.

Before you can humiliate yourself, Steve saves the day as an offended Robin glares at him, rubbing her stomach rather dramatically.  “Donnie.”  He states, only creating further confusion.  Several people stood before you and Donnie was not one of them, you were now struggling to keep up with the current interaction at the mention of her.  Overstimulated.  You were definitely overstimulated.  You can’t even imagine the dumb face you were sporting, the silence too loud as you struggled clinging onto words.  Any words in the English language at all at this point.

“Donnie has told us all about you.”  Steve elaborates finally.  “All good things, I promise!”  He chuckles, seemingly attempting to ease your anxieties that had made themselves evident in your wide eyes and worried forehead creases.

“Oh.”   

“Yeah, yeah!  And she’s told us all about how you’re Eddie’s new babysitter.”  Robin chimes in again, earning a pointed look from Steve.

Eddie’s reaction is lost on you, his existence temporarily vanishing as you take in the current conversation.  The idea of being perceived was one thing, it was entirely another to be perceived by four strangers who had apparently already been made aware of your existence.

“What she means is that we’ve heard you’ve been a good friend.”  Nancy softly smiles.

Friend.

You didn’t quite know why but the word felt insulting.  Not on any account of Nancy’s, there was no malice detected in her tone though you were still intimidated by her and figured with her being the prettiest girl in the room, she must at least be on Eddie’s radar.  The word ‘friend’ was starting to feel vulgar the more it played over in your head.

“Yeah, ‘friend’.”  Dustin uses air quotes, a wild grin on his youthful face.

At this, Steve delivers a harsh smack to the boy’s abdomen, more aggressive than he had done to Robin seconds ago.  

“Henderson.”  Eddie reprimands.

His voice lures you in despite your inner protests, your gaze traveling over each unique face until it settles on his.  That familiar distress showcases itself in the form of a frown; there was no telling what reaction you had expected of him but something about it makes your heart drop, your stomach feeling as if it was free falling in the worst way possible.  Were you really that repulsive?

It was obvious Dustin had only been joking but the disgust on Eddie’s face only forced your tear ducts to strain, your eyes becoming glassy in seconds.  It was a long shot, thinking that there could be any semblance of interest on Eddie’s part and you suppose you should be to blame for your hurt feelings.  He owed you nothing and here you were mourning over something that never was, all because he had let you see a piece of the inner workings of his mind.  It didn’t warrant a one way ticket into his heart.

“What!?”  Dustin shrugs, unbothered.

Robin steps forward, an apologetic smile gracing her features as she addresses you.  “I promise we’re not all gigantic dinguses.”

A flood of complaints spills from Dustin and Steve, Nancy only rolling her eyes at the interaction before taking the initiative in pursuing the conversation with you as the others bicker, Eddie only spectating the whole scene playing out in front of him.

“Dustin doesn’t always know when to keep quiet.”  She giggles, subtly pulling you to the side, her hand gentle as it rests on your forearm.  It almost repulses you, although your logic kicks in and pieces together that this woman has never done anything to elicit such a response from you.  “But he always means well.”

The heat was dying down, the unsolicited jealousy now tame within the confines of your body, not totally gone but no longer raging just beneath the surface.  If it were up to you you’d ball up the lingering feeling and burn it, if it were only so easy.

“Are they brothers?”  You ask, recalling that night you drove him home.  He only spoke of his uncle, Wayne.  He did also mention Dustin but never insinuated that they were related.  Based on the way they were interacting, you’d assume they were brothers in some sense of the word.

“Where’s your family?”  Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.  

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him.  Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal.  And you offered him that same respect.  

“What?”  You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response.  The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench.  His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.”  You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering.  Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder.  Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts?  Even if he was slightly under the influence.  Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.” 

“Oh.”  

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.  

“What about yours?”  You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure.  A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one.  Never really have.  Or, uh, I just don’t remember them?  Other than my uncle, Wayne.  He’s back…”  Eddie hesitates.  “He’s in Indiana.”

Nancy’s gaze follows yours, locking in on the two boys catching up.  “Dustin and Eddie?”  Her puzzled expression already grants you your answer, though she continues.  “No, no they’re not related.  You’d think they are, with all the fantasy stuff they talk about and what not.”

“Fantasy stuff?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.”  Her perfectly plucked brows raise.  “My brother used to have me play with them, thank god Eddie stepped into the picture.”  She mutters.

“Eddie did mention Dungeons and Dragons.”  You nod. 

“And Dustin’s little drawing.”

“And the drawing?”

Your grin along with Nancy as you simultaneously speak, a few giggles filling the air between you.  

“So your brother is…Dustin?”

Amidst the calm conversation, Steve and Robin are cheering a few feet away, both of their arms now slung around Eddie.  It wasn’t clear what they were celebrating and it even seemed that they were just trying to embarrass him in that true friend fashion.  It was sweet, how much they cared about him, the lengths they went just to surprise him.

Nancy gracefully shakes her head, brunette curls bouncing with the movement and freckled nose scrunching playfully.  “No, no.  Dustin is one of my brother’s best friends.  Mike is my brother, he’s back at home in–”  Before she can reveal where ‘home’ was, her bright blue eyes widen.  “Back in Indiana.”  She corrects herself.

“I think Eddie’s mentioned Mike a few times.”  You recall the conversation, how he took Mike and Dustin under his wing in highschool.  “He couldn’t come?”

“He’s studying for midterms.”  She shakes her head.  “He really wanted to come but…you know between his girlfriend in California and college it’s just all…a lot.”  Her eyes are kind, probably the kindest you’d ever come across.

“I’d love to meet him one day.”  You smile, only hoping that you were reciprocating the same compassion she was radiating.  “And Max, and Lucas, and Wayne…”

Nancy’s eyes seem to brighten, ears perking up at the names.  “He told you about everyone?”  She asks softly, her baby pink lips upturning slightly.  

You nod.  Another eruption of laughter and shouting forces your attention toward the rest of the group, a proud grin displayed on Dustin’s face only hinting that he had just made a joke that even had Eddie hunched over in laughter, Steve’s arm still draped over his shoulder with his head thrown back.

“That is not funny.”  Robin pouts, arms crossed.

“I think it’s pretty funny.”  Steve smirks.

Nancy politely excuses herself from your one-on-one conversation, joining Robin’s side.  “What’s not funny?”

“When Robin swallowed an egg whole–”

“It’s not funny!”  Robin continues to protest.  “I almost died!”  

This only makes the boys cackle more, pulling an eye roll from Nancy.  

“C’mon Nance.”  Dustin grins.

“Yeah, c’mon Nance.”  Eddie chimes in.

Nance.

Why did it rub you the wrong way when he said it?  You assessed Nancy’s body language and nothing conveyed to you that she had any interest in him, however your mind continued it’s unruly torture.  Even so, Eddie had made it clear what he thought of you, that you were ‘too busy dry humping’ Jett and that even though that couldn’t be further from the truth, he would still lose respect for you.

Heat burrowed deep in your belly once again, the kind that wasn’t yet uncontrollable but should anyone add fuel to the fire would result in your own self destruction.  All because Eddie had to go and cause a scene.  All because he had a temper that never rested even when it appeared dormant.  

“I-um, I’m gonna go get the drinks–what did–what did everyone want?”  You manage to pitifully scramble the sentence together and eventually get your point across.

“Stevie!”  Donnie interrupts, crushing the poor guy in a tight hug.  It makes you question her disgust for physical touch.  

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, a twitch of his eye only projecting a smidge of discomfort but other than that he contently hugs her back.  They begin catching up, everyone completely ignoring your request for their drink orders.  It’s not their fault you were so invisible, it was just your nature, you were always meant to be put on the backburner until further notice but for some reason it causes an extra deep pang in your chest this time.  Especially since Eddie had completely disregarded you as he jumped into the conversation.

With the tiniest huff, you quietly step away to make yourself useful behind the bar.  A pair of blue eyes follows you, considerate blue eyes that you attempt to ignore.  If you looked carefully enough, you’d see that pair of ocean blue eyes making connections between yourself and a certain brown eyed man.  You were in no mood to act as a detective though.

–

It was irresponsible.

Your track record so far was evidence enough.

But as you stared down the bottle of tequila sat in front of you, howls of laughter and echoes of inside jokes entering your ears even from the other side of the bar, it seemed like more and more of a good idea.  Or like the only idea.  

You could have one shot, just to relax the nerves, make you more approachable.  No one would notice.  You could come off as the friendly stranger in the background instead of the miserable mouse in the corner.  It was for your benefit.  Your thoughts would become less intense, your bitterness would melt away.  Eddie would temporarily become the dream boat he had previously been in your eyes rather than a mouthy douchebag, your hazy mind would erase his wrong doings if only for a few hours.  

You hope.

Or maybe you’d open your eyes and see what Eddie was seeing, had you really shown any interest in Jett at all?  Maybe a shot would be enough to introduce you to the narrative.  Maybe you should let loose and throw yourself at Jett for the fuck of it.  Bad decisions were starting to sound more appealing the harder you stared at the bottle of liquid courage.  Until your careful thought process was interrupted.

“We doin’ shots?”  

The deep but soothing voice catches you off guard, calm brown eyes and concerned brows gaining all of your attention.  They weren’t the brown eyes you secretly hoped for, even if they were the most infuriating sight you could possibly be faced with at the moment.  No, they were a lighter hue, the overhead light casting golden flecks within the irises that regarded you with genuine interest, his lips pressed together tightly as he awaits your answer.  In his hand he holds what looks to be a scotch on the rocks though it could also be whiskey, you were no expert quite yet.

“Uh…no.  I dunno.  Maybe?”  You squint your eyes painfully.  “Forget I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.”  Steve takes a seat at one of the vacant stools directly across from you.  “But…”  He clicks his tongue.  “If you are going to, count me in.”  He smiles charmingly, finishing off his drink.

“I…”  You’re about to take the sensible route, you’re so close to making the right decision.  Then again, bad decisions were far more tempting.  Especially with the help of an unaware acquaintance.  “Okay.”  You sigh, offering him a friendly grin.

Without further consideration, you pop the bottle cap off, pulling out two sparkling shot glasses and setting them on the counter confidently.  At least you didn’t have to drink alone.  

“Munson giving you a hard time?”  Steve suddenly inquires.  Your eyes nearly pop out of your head which you assume is why he elaborates.  “I know he’s kind of intense.  The first year he moved out here he was…he was so fuckin’ unhappy y’know?  And I know what you’re thinkin’: Why is this guy, Steve, who I just met, going on about Munson?”  He begins to ramble.

Slowly, you start to pour the foul smelling alcohol into one of the glasses as you listen intently.  A few drops trickle down the side but it goes ignored as you watch Steve’s every move.  He toys with the glass he’d just finished off, spinning it over and over again in circles atop the bar, a ring of condensation following.

“Don’t–fuck how do I say this?”  He pushes a weft of voluminous hair back.  “Don’t give up on him.”  Steve practically pleads.

You stop pouring the tequila, pausing to chew on your lip and look at him in confusion, which encourages him to continue.

“Look, Donnie was talking about how–how you’ve been really good for him.  And I don’t know–I just–I could sense that…you were mad at each other–you and Eddie, I mean.”

He takes your silence as a means to further explain and god, he could feel a migraine coming on just by the way he was stirring things up but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  Not when Donnie had been so adamant about Eddie being in such good spirits since you showed up only to come face to face with an almost seething Eddie, and Donnie wordlessly conveying to him that something was wrong.

“The point is, I know that he’s an asshole, okay?  Whatever he did, I’m sure he deserves a slap to the face.  Just–don’t give up on him.”

Steve’s words sink in.  You aren’t sure what has been said but it’s apparent that the tension between you and Eddie tonight was obvious among his friends.  You ponder his request–to not give up on Eddie as you fill the second shot glass and slide it across the counter.  If anything, Eddie had given up on you by accusing you of messing around with Jett.  It was insulting and humiliating.  Dehumanizing.  

“I think he’s the one who gave up on me.”  You admit, tossing the shot back with teary eyes.

The sting spreads down your throat, the potent smell filling your nostrils as you slam the glass down.  Your eyes are glassy though you only hope Steve can gather that it's just from the alcohol and not the idea of Eddie essentially throwing whatever you had in the garbage combined with the burn of tequila.

As if caught off guard, Steve quickly throws his shot back, apparently an expert as he doesn’t flinch, only widens his eyes as he slams the glass down as you had.  He exhales heavily, nodding, thinking to himself.  You await more wise words, more advice that he had no business giving although you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“What are you doing?”

The world feels distant and not because of the alcohol.  Your blood runs hot, most definitely because of the alcohol.  The question is asked with such outrage that it almost has you shaking.  Getting caught was more embarrassing than any outcome you could’ve imagined though you didn’t even try to hide the evidence, didn’t even go as far as to take shots in the back.  Did you subconsciously want Eddie to catch you?

“Nothing.”  You mutter, quickly capping the bottle and setting it on its designated shelf.

“I just saw you.”  Eddie grits, hands splayed out on top of the bar, his arms spread out as he attempts to keep quiet so as not to interrupt the customers scattered throughout the bar. 

Eddie’s glare burns a hole into you and maybe it’s because of Steve’s sudden advice, the fact that he felt the need to stick up for Eddie even when he didn’t know the whole situation, but you refuse to give in.  He holds a fire in his eyes that you hastily reject as you begin cleaning out the shot glasses.  It was your goal to come off as unbothered but you fear you’re coming off more as guilty.  Like a dog that had been caught chewing up the family couch.

“It was my fault.”  Steve chimes in nonchalantly.

Eddie glances over, brows knit together in irritation.  “Your fault?”

“Yeah, we were getting acquainted.  I insisted, it was–”

“Steve had nothing to do with it.”  You fess up.

Eddie’s face reveals a whole other level of rage, his eyes nearly glazing over with black.  You fucked up.  That much you could admit to yourself.  Steve appears to be panicked, his gaze glued to the bar top, his hands gripping the edge, nails threatening to dig into the wood.

“Meet me in the back.”  Eddie demands, pushing himself off of the bar.  

Terrified doesn’t even begin to explain the list of feelings coursing through you.  You’d never seen him as angry as he was tonight.  You were drinking on the job, something that in a small town usually isn’t a big deal but with all of the tension hanging in the air, you could only assume it would add to his irritation.  It would only give him more ammo against you.

Steve offers you an apologetic stare, clearly also taken back by Eddie’s irate mood.  And then, he half nods as if to wish you good luck before standing and making his way back to the rest of the group.  As you timidly step out from the bar and round the corner, you catch Nancy’s sapphire eyes before they disappear, your legs carrying you into the narrow hallway where the office was located.  Except Eddie wasn’t in there and you could only conclude that he was outside.  ‘Meet me in the back’ meant ‘meet me outside’.  Which could only mean he was about to unleash hell on you if he needed to completely remove you from the building in order to reprimand you.

You don’t let yourself prepare, you need to face him without any thoughts clouding your judgment, only further shoving you into the hole you dug yourself.  With a push to the metal door, you’re met with an aching cold, the kind that stings the surface of any exposed skin.  Immediately your cheeks burn, a few snowflakes landing delicately among your eyelashes.  You should have grabbed your jacket.

Leaning against the hay bales stacked like a Tetris game, is Eddie.  A cigarette hangs from his lips while he struggles to keep the flame on his lighter alive, the wind fighting his every attempt.  He grunts in annoyance, his head tilting toward the sky as if to personally ask it ‘why?’.  Already, his cheeks and nose are tinted pink, borderline red.  You contemplate asking if you could talk inside but you quickly bite your tongue, you didn’t want to be the one to initiate the conversation.

“What’s your problem?”  He asks simply.  As if he were asking for the weather forecast.  It’s insulting, quite frankly.

“My problem?”

Suddenly the fear that had consumed you seconds ago dissipates, no longer plaguing you and being replaced with a wrath you’re convinced no one else on the planet could pull from you.  Even worse, he refuses to look at you, keeping his stare on the cloudy evening sky.  

“Are you trying to get fired?  ‘Cause I should fire you right–”

“Oh yeah, go ahead.  Fire me.”  

He’s quiet, attempting to light his cigarette once again.  This time he succeeds, the stick catching the flame as he inhales and tucks his lighter into his back pocket.  You begin to question if he even cares about the cold until you see the goosebumps pricking across his arms.

“I should.”  He mumbles, taking another drag.

“Great!  I’m glad we’re on the same page.”  You reply, sarcasm dripping from each syllable as you rub up and down your exposed arms.  It didn’t help that you decided to wear a skirt and tights tonight either.  

Without time to process, he takes a large step toward you, his breath hot as it fans across your face.  A sense of softness flashes in his eyes before they return to the fiery nature they previously exhibited.  His cigarette idles in his hand at his side, his jaw clenched and visibly tensing before he scowls.

“Same page?”  He bites.  “The same page.”  His free hand rubs along his jaw in thought.  “Okay, if we’re on the same page then explain to me why you’re doing shots with Harrington?  If we’re on the same page then we must be reading completely different languages because you started this.”

You scoff, his statement on replay in your ears.  Each time it plays again you find yourself even more enraged.  “I did?”  You’re smiling but there’s not an ounce of happiness in your features or your tone.  

Eddie backs away, the heat from his breath is missed, no matter how mad you are and no matter how strongly it smelled of smoke.  He paces, turning around before coming full circle and facing you again, another deep drag from his cigarette indicating that he’s stressed.  Then he nods, bangs falling into his eyes as he does.

“You did.  You just–you start ignoring me, start acting like I’m not even a person?”  He points the cigarette at you and you’re starting to believe that in the midst of his rage, he’s completely forgotten about the cold whereas it was the only thing you could focus on.  Regardless, you fight through it, even if your teeth chatter.

“And, and–hold on.”  He shakes his head, curls following his movement as he rushes inside.

Great.

He left you out in the cold, literally.

You weren’t going to wait, his disrespect wasn’t going to keep prodding at you, not if you had anything to say about it.  He didn’t get to storm off and leave you outside in the freezing cold, even if you did do something you weren’t proud of.  He was probably going to wait and see how long you would hold out, how long you would sit in the cold before inevitably running in and looking for him, how stupid you would look–

The door squeaks open again, smacking against the wall as Eddie comes racing out, leather jacket in hand.  Well, if he was allowed to grab his jacket then so were you.  His cigarette hangs from his bottom lip as he begins muttering around it.

“You started treating me like I didn’t exist, I don’t know how normal people react to that but–”  He adjusts the jacket, flattening out the material before draping it over your shoulders, encouraging you to put your arms in the sleeves.  “I assume any normal person would be fuckin’ pissed so I guess I’m not–I’m just not understanding.”  He says a bit harshly.

You don’t react, frozen as he waits for you to put your arm in the sleeve.  While he’s still visibly aggravated, his eyes also communicate something else to you.  The deeper you look into them, the more his pupils dilate, a nervous gulp noticeable as he awaits your reply.

“C’mon, you’re freezing.”  He whispers, a large contrast to his previous tone.  It’s warmer, it’s familiar, it’s like home.

“What about you?”  You mumble, staring dumbly into his big brown eyes, his lashes heavy against his cheeks, unlike how they were seconds ago when he was wild-eyed and riled up.  He was still riled up, that was for sure but now…now it was diluted with something else.

“Don’t worry about me, Bambi.”  The term of endearment slips from his tongue effortlessly.  Like it was meant to fall from his lips directly into your ears.  Like it was meant for you and only for you, always.

With parted lips, you can see your breath escape into the night.  You know he can hear your labored breathing and you should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his gaze softens, the sturdy exterior he had built up again crumbling just as it had that one night.

“I do worry.”  

It falls from your lips quicker than you can contain it.  You shouldn’t be offering him such compassion, not when he was so okay with insulting you hours earlier.  But pools of melted chocolate never left you any other choice but to get lost in them.  He moves in closer, ever so slightly, only enough that you feel the familiar warmth of his breath on your cheek, so that you can still make out his whole face.

“Don’t.”  He says breathily.

“Why?”

He only shrugs, his focus trailing down your face, reaching every inch.  It makes you want to shy away but you can’t, not when he looks so sincere.

“‘M sorry.”  He whispers, reaching up to brush a rogue strand of hair from your face.

Your instinct is to ask ‘for what?’, but you know better.  You don’t need to play dumb, both of you are aware of his nasty words and your tendency to take things to a level they should have never gotten to.  You’re both to blame.  But you don’t need to pretend to not know what he’s apologizing for.  There’s no pretending with him.  So you can only hope that he’ll see through to the deeper meaning of your initial question. 

“For what?”

For what?  Would he say that he’s only sorry he hired you in the first place?  Or that he’s sorry he ever met you.  Would he understand your words and be in tune enough to decipher them?

“Everything.”  He whispers.

It’s quiet, almost eerily but not.  No, it’s too peaceful to be eerie.  The first snowflakes of the season are still falling and you’re standing outside the bar with Eddie Munson, a man who was so stubborn he seemed almost impossible.  Almost, but not.  Never for you.

“Everything.”  You repeat.  And he knows he owes you more.

“Everything.”  He swallows the lump in his throat that was preventing him from saying the necessary words.  It goes down smoother than he expects.  “Every second I was ever an asshole to you.  Especially my stupid ass comment about Jett.  I-I was mad and I took it out on you.  I tend to do that pretty often don’t I?”  He laughs humorlessly.  “I don’t think less of you if you’re actually…y’know.”  He gestures vaguely.

“What?”  You ask, genuine confusion taking over your features.

For a moment, his eyes shift back and forth, as if to beg you not to make him say it.

“With Jett.”  He mumbles, gaze now avoiding you.

“With Jett.”  You repeat in disbelief.  “I have done nothing to suggest we are at all together.”  You scoff.  

“I know.”  Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s bracing for more choice words from you.  They don’t come.  “I know.  I just, he got in my head and–”

“Got in your head?” 

“It was nothing, he got in my head and got all, I dunno protective?  If that’s even the word.  He just seemed jealous, okay?”  Eddie explains.  “I know that’s not an excuse for what I said.  I’m really sorry for saying you dry hump–”

“Don’t ever use the word dry hump and Jett in a sentence where you’re referring to me again.”  You laugh.  This time humor floods through you.  His whole demeanor relaxes, shoulders less tense.  “It’s happened one too many times.”  You cringe jokingly.

“Okay, that’s fair.”  He smiles, that boyish grin returning to his face.  The one you hadn’t seen in days, the one you missed every time, the second he directed it toward you the first time.  His dimples deep, eyes shy, he still lingers close to your face, neither of you protesting the invasion of each other’s space.  “Now put your arms in the sleeves.”  He demands, tugging on the collar of his jacket still laying over your shoulders.  “Please.”  His face only inches closer to yours as he convinces you to shove your arms into his jacket.

“We’re about to go inside, I won’t need it.”  You argue, crossing your arms in front of you, a hip jutting out with sass.

“Oh okay, we’re back to this then?”  He smirks, finger grazing the button at the lapel of his jacket, almost scorching the skin of your neck.

That familiar spark ignites in his eyes, the fire that showcased so much unexplored emotion, so many uncharted territories within the man before you.  You wanted to explore them all, you wanted to hold his hand and trek across each foreign feeling.  You wanted to bathe in the sparks and light yourself on fire to speed up the process.  You didn’t just want to burn for him, you wanted to burn with him.  Your soul was drawn to him, you wanted to melt into him, melt into his touch, even if it was just his fingertip.  You’d take what you could get.  And you were really convinced that he wanted the same things solely based on the way he was looking at you with heavy eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m not done addressing my grievances with you.”  You joke.

At this, he lights up even more, his entire face exhibiting pure fondness.  His lips are so perfectly pink, a little chapped, but the sweetest pink you’d ever seen.  They were pillowy and plush and as he licked them you blinked, falling out of your trance.  Then, his hands travel down the zipper of his jacket, only touching the worn material and not at all forcing his touch upon you though he longs to feel your warmth.  

Instead, he pulls you forward by gripping each side of the jacket, leaving you no choice but to come flush with his chest.  You welcome the heat, the sudden warmth that engulfs you like a cozy blanket calms your chattering teeth.  

“Yeah?”  He whispers, nose nearly bumping against yours.  You wish it would.

“Yeah.”

Your lashes just barely flutter against his cheek, only teasing him of what he actually desires, and you don’t even know it.  He’s glancing between your eyes and your lips and your internal reaction is to scream at him to just do it.  But is that even what he’s hinting at doing?  Maybe there was something on your face.  You weren’t going to assume his intentions and make yourself out to be a fool.

He hums in response, his hands still tightly clutching the jacket, the damn jacket that you were now wishing he never put on you just so you could feel his skin, the heat of his hands against your arms.  The ache was becoming too apparent in your chest, you needed him and there was no way to express it.  You couldn’t.

He smells of tobacco and a hint of pine.  Even a tiny bit of spice from some kind of cologne you’d grown used to smelling on him.  There’s a waft of beer falling from his breath as well, not too obvious, but obvious enough that you can gather that he had at least had a beer before work or during his break.

“Do me a favor?”  He asks.  And in that moment, you would do anything.

“Mm?” 

A quick finger pokes your nose playfully.  “No more tequila.”  

You can only laugh along with him, almost burying your head in his chest but refraining as you enter your body again.  This was not a daydream and he was not someone to call yours.  Fooling yourself was only going to get you hurt.

“I’m serious, it fucking stinks.”  He scrunches up his face in mock disgust, plugging his nose, you giggling along with his antics.

With that, he pulls away, leaving you feeling frigid, already missing his presence even if he was still right in front of you.  Opening the door, he gestures for you to go ahead of him.  The atmosphere had been flipped upside down, all hostility left outside in the cold to be swept away in a snowstorm.  

–

“And then Eddie fucking jumps off his roof!”  

The bar fills with laughter, unfiltered, stomach grabbing laughter of five friends and yourself.  The regular customers had long gone and paid their tabs, leaving the bar empty and the possibilities endless as everyone shared treasured stories over beers and drinks.  Steve appears to be pleased with himself as the laughter carries on for over a minute.  The image of Eddie drunk and jumping off of his roof as a means to prove he can ‘fly’ only to face plant into the ground and be driven to the ER was somehow the best entertainment you’d been faced with in a while.  

It was mentioned that he didn’t get injured too badly and only required a few stitches above his eyebrow where you could now seek out a scar and remember this night.  The night Eddie’s friends accepted you into their circle.  Even if only for the night.

“Well what about when you got a lampshade stuck on your head.”  Eddie points at Steve with his beer bottle.

Steve only offers a disapproving expression as the giggles erupt once again.  Robin sits to your right while Nancy sits to your left.  The pair had immediately taken a liking to you and moved chairs just so you could sit between them.  It felt nice, you felt welcome.  You had no worries and nowhere to be.  And for once that made you feel alive rather than anxious.

“Okay, but can we talk about you babysitting Eddie on Halloween?”  Nancy attempts to hold in her laughter.  She had said it quietly but not quietly enough as Eddie deadpans her.  

Robin lets out a shriek of laughter, clearly intoxicated.  You can only grin at everyone’s reaction.  Steve and Dustin had gotten into some kind of a ridiculous argument and throughout the night, you noticed it was a regular occurance.  They paid no mind to embarrassing Eddie further but Nancy had no issue with it even if she wasn’t outright talking to the whole group in the first place and only you and Robin.

“What, Munson?  You got plastered and she had to save the day.”  Nancy giggles.  She had obviously been a little wine drunk, a tiny bit tipsy.

“Yes, it’s very funny.”  He says monotone.  “Can we find a new joke now?”  He asks, rolling his eyes although you know he’s only playing around, his lips threatening to pull themselves into a smile.

“It’s okay to get white girl wasted every once in a while.”  You banter.

“Oh, it is?”  Eddie raises a brow.  “It’s okay to puke all over me after getting white girl wasted?  Off of my tequila?”

The table erupts in a series of ‘oh’s’.  You could take offense.  But it was so much more fun to mess with him.

“I’m not the one who got puked on at least.”  You shrug, unbothered.

The table gets loud again, siding in your favor based on their volume.

“Yeah?”  He asks.  As if you two were suddenly the only people in the bar.  As if his friends had disappeared.  As if you were back outside behind the bar just a few hours ago.

“Yeah.”  You answer, a certain softness in your tone that only he could understand.

Nancy’s gaze flits in between you, mischief crossing her features for a brief second, you swear you see it.  But nothing comes of it as she turns her attention to the argument that Dustin and Steve had started up again.  Robin chimes in every now and then, hiccuping dramatically.  You and Eddie, though a little buzzed, can’t stop staring at each other from across the table.  His gaze is heavy and yearning but for what you’re not sure.

His bottom lip continues to get tugged in between his teeth, abusing the already chapped skin as he unknowingly communicates his nervousness.  The only thing you’re sure of is that he won’t tear his eyes away from you.  Not for Steve’s request to aid in the argument, not for Dustin’s screeching voice demanding he take his side, and not for Jett who was making it known that he was leaving for the night.  Eddie only mutters in response, something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’.  Steve and Dustin are too caught up to even pay any mind to Eddie’s ignorance to their debate.  Robin is in her own world, curling her legs up to her chest in her chair as she becomes fascinated with the wood grain in the table while Nancy pretends to be preoccupied with swirling the wine in her glass and acts as if she’s listening to Dustin’s reasoning, nodding every now and then.  But you notice the way her diamond eyes take in the scene before her.  And now you’re sure that she has no interest in Eddie nor has she ever shown it.  

But she does have an interest in whatever was happening between you and Eddie.  She was studying the chemistry.

–

It was 4:00 AM, the sun would be emerging just on the Horizon within hours.  An exhausted Steve lays his head on the table over his folded arms.  Drool threatens to fall from the corner of his lip onto his sleeve, his mouth hanging open as he sleeps almost like a newborn.  Every other breath a deep snore rumbles through him.

“This isn’t even the weirdest place he’s fallen asleep.”  Dustin snaps a polaroid, the flash doing little to make Steve stir in his slumber, his eyelids only twitching as he navigates his dreams.  “One time we found him under his bed.”

You chuckle at the sight, Steve had been completely hammered off of several beers and a few shots of vodka that Robin had convinced him to take with her.  The second he wakes up, he’s in for a rude awakening, you’re sure.  

“Do you take a picture every time?”  You ask as Dustin hands off the developing picture to you, only to continue getting just the shot he wanted as he crouched down to get a better view of Steve’s face.

“Of course.”  He laughs, stating it like there was no other option.

“Steve’s reputation with drinking isn’t necessarily…the best?”  Nancy speaks, setting a fresh glass of water on the table in front of him.

You’d learned throughout the night that Steve and Nancy dated in highschool and although it was a nasty breakup, they remained friends and it never was weird after that.  They respected each other as they did their other friends and it showed.  

“I mean…I don’t think it’s that bad.  He’s just sleeping.  I’ve dozed off while drunk a few times.”  You defend.

“Yeah but have you dozed off in places people couldn’t even find you until we tore the house apart?”  Dustin counters with raised eyebrows.  “He also used to reign under the title ‘King Steve’ if that tells you anything.”

Showing your hands in surrender, you begin collecting the remaining glasses from the table.  Several dozen shot glasses that had provided a good night but would surely bring on a rough morning for those that had participated.  You’d taken two shots throughout the night and had half of Robin’s Dirty Shirley that she couldn’t seem to stomach.  And she wouldn’t quit until it was gone so you humbly volunteered seeing as she was already almost obliterated, stumbling around anytime she got up and slurring every word.

Robin was now talking Eddie’s ear off as she sat at the bar, narrating every piece of her life that he’d missed since she visited and last updated him.  You could vaguely make out her explanation for still not getting her driver’s license, stating that Steve was more than okay with being her chauffeur for the foreseeable future.  Then she insisted that should she get her license, she’d be an even worse driver than Eddie used to be so it’d be in everyone’s best interest to keep her off the roads.  

Eddie hums along to the conversation, letting Robin steer the topic as he leisurely polishes the glasses he hadn’t gotten to earlier, his friends occupying his full attention a majority of the night.  An impressive pile of glasses and cups are building up on your tray, Nancy assisting in collecting what she could as she follows you toward the bar.  

“Nance!  Tell him!”  Robin whines.  “Tell him how I’m a danger to the roads of suburbia!”

“You are most definitely a danger.”  Nancy smiles softly, moving Robin’s bangs out of her eyes with her free hand before delivering the glasses she’d collected onto the counter.

“See!”

“No need to convince me, Buckely.”  Eddie throws his rag over his shoulder.  “Although I’d probably have the time of my life with you behind the wheel.”  He grins, scooping up the tray you were having trouble setting down.  “But I’d also prefer to live a little longer so you avoid that DMV for as long as you can.”

Nancy nods in agreement, taking a seat on the stool next to Robin.  As you rush around the counter to assist in washing the remaining glasses, large brown eyes follow you, as if they missed you.  Like they’d never been happier to see you.  You still shy away from them, only because you’re not sure how long you can last until you melt, until your knees collapse beneath you and you’re a puddle on the floor.

“So what’s our game plan this time for getting Steve to the car?”  Nancy asks.

“Leave ‘em here.”  Robin slouches in her seat.

“Rob–”

“I second that.”  Eddie chuckles.  

“You guys are awful!”  Nancy proclaims.

You can only giggle to yourself, bubbles coating your hands as warm water leaks down to your elbows as you scrub each glass.  A sudden hip jabs into your side, creating enough room for Eddie’s lean frame to partake in the chore.  

“What’s so funny, Bambi?”  He questions, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You shake your head, still tuning into Robin’s scheme to leave Steve behind.  She had obviously been joking, the two constantly bickering with one another throughout the night like siblings only proving so.  But she seemed to enjoy pressing Nancy’s buttons as she persisted in her idea of abandoning the poor guy.

“Nothing.”  You mutter.

Your backs are facing the two girls, neither of them able to sneak a glance at Eddie’s wandering eyes that you could very clearly spot just out of your peripheral vision.  His hands continued to concentrate on the task at hand though not very well as he scrubbed the same tiny shot glass for at least two minutes too long.

“Y’know, you’re not being very helpful.”

With a click of his tongue, he finally sets the overly-clean glass atop the drying rack, reaching over you in the process.  It only made you aware of his comforting smell that you had basked in out in the cold earlier.  You’d never imagine wishing to do dishes for the rest of eternity but here you were, hoping that an eyelash would fall onto your cheek just so you could wish on it to stay in this very moment.

“‘M not?”  He smirks.

“Nope, you’re just making more work for me.”

“Oh, you tell him!”  Dustin suddenly peaks over both of your shoulders, quiet as a mouse until he had made his presence known.  It startles you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Henderson, don’t sneak up on people like that.”  Eddie holds a hand over his chest.

“Look alive.”  He shrugs, snooping around at the shelves that would otherwise be obscured from his view on the other side of the bar.

“Nothin’ for you back here, you’re not even twenty one.”  Eddie turns around, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms.  

“Wha-oh don’t be like that!  I only have like two more years and that’s rich coming from you of all people, Eddie.”  Dustin points a finger, sticking it harshly into Eddie’s chest.  

“Do as I say, not as I do.”  Eddie mumbles, returning to his task, snatching up the last two glasses that remained before you could, swatting your hands away.

“What’s he talking about?”  You dare to ask.

Dustin brings an arm over your shoulder, the other over Eddie’s, a huge grin plastered on his face as if he’d been waiting for you to ask the question.  Eddie only offers him a side eye, nothing malicious but a light warning.

“Eddie here used to have a big reputation.”  He explains, patting him on the back.  Eddie only rolls his eyes, clearly indicating that he didn’t have any real issue with Dustin revealing pieces of his past.

“Oh?”  You wipe your hands on a nearby rag, turning toward Dustin, intrigued.

“Yeah, he used to be the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.”

Your face doesn’t shift, only making it more difficult to gauge your reaction.  Eddie starts to fear that this was going to be your wakeup call.  Your revelation as to who he really was.  He knows Dustin meant know harm in it and to be fair, the kid had probably snuck a few beers away from Steve.  There was no ill intent, only playful banter although Eddie hadn’t anticipated how you might have felt about his previous endeavors until after Dustin spoke those words.

“Dustin!”  Robin calls for his attention, chewing on a cocktail straw.  

Without a second thought, the boy turns his attention toward the two girls sitting at the bar, making his way around to take a seat next to Robin only to assist her in some kind of party trick she had been trying to work out with a napkin.

“How’s it go?”  She mutters around the straw.

Eddie stares at the bubbles in the sink like they’re the only thing in the room, his eyes following each one drifting toward the drain and idling at the bottom of the basin as the remaining water drains.  Sparkly little bubbles created reflections in his eyes that could resemble stars.  And he waits.

He waits for your reaction, waits for you to detach yourself from him because god, he didn’t know what was happening between you two since stepping back inside the bar all those hours ago but he didn’t want it to end just because his past put you off.  It was inevitable that the single good thing happening to him would come to an end.  That this night would end.

He doesn’t expect you to shove your hip into his just as he had done to you earlier, twirling a rag in between your fingers, offering him a smirk.  

“Big reputation, huh?”  You playfully raise your eyebrows up and down.

Relief washes over him.  It doesn’t have to end.  This night isn’t over, maybe he can have whatever this is for a few more minutes, an hour if he’s lucky.  He’d delay going home if it meant you’d keep toying with him, teasing him over silly little things that his friends had told you about.  He didn’t mind, not when your face would light up at every tiny ‘secret’ you were let in on.  Eddie knew very well that his friends had been enlightening you with small details about his life back in Hawkins, about every time they’d visited Knife’s Edge, all the big moments and embarrassing drunk shenanigans.  He didn’t mind.  Because it meant that they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“Shut up.”  He gently nudges your shoulder with his.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 271 - the last chapter (spoilers)

I did a live reading of this chapter you can find here if you're interested how my panel per panel thoughts progressed while reading it 😄

This very last chapter we start where we left off in ch 270: with the mission where the woman can't see the face of her boyfriend correctly anymore.

The first year trio are hard at work thinking through their options on what to do and how to pull that curse user out of hiding. We get a new sort of funny faces from the idiot duo, for them at least, I think these faces appeared in the Kenjaku/Takaba fight as well

The trio enacts their plan now and they catch the perpetrator really fast. Nobara does some funny yet unnecessary property damage in the process and we first get a cool panel of her and Yuji together than another silly panel of them not able to see their faces properly.

The perpetrator btw is a no name never before seen character created just for this mission so the guys can have one last low stakes adventure together.

We get a Gojo flashback giving Yuji a talk, saying his students should become better than him and forget him too, at least one of them. It isn't out of character for Gojo to say that but the placement and the build up for it is somewhat unsatisfying.

Yuji shows how he internalized Gojo's last words by encouraging the criminal to be better.

We get a cool Megumi pose with Kon after he showed us why he was the brains in the group but unfortunately that's basically it for him. Even though he was possessed and tortured by Sukuna for a month there is nothing left of that on him except superficial scars.

When Sukuna took him over Megumi was turned into an object meant to suffer. Now it feels like he's still that: an object but this time meant to be happy in a forcefully conflict free way.

When the readers believed in the dream theory, elements like that was where our thoughts came from. This forceful happy ending for everyone, a genre shift from what JJK had been at this point 🤔

Now we get a surprise Mahito and Sukuna interaction in the space before souls move on. Their conversation is interesting as is the reference to Sukuna's past and what he chose for himself.

In a way it was always apparent that Sukuna was bullshitting the people around him when he talked about himself and what others should do and not. For me it was the speech he gave to Yuji after possessing Megumi about how Yuji should stifle his misery because he was born low.

That immediately stood in stark contrast to what he later said to Kashimo about being born unwanted and cursed because now he admitted that he was in Yuji's position once too and still he developed that insanely arrogant self image.

My problem here is that this interaction references things that were not implied before like what his two paths above were supposed to be. Every time I look at that I get new ideas on what it could've been he's talking about.

It's good to have room for interpretation on someone's backstory. But to this degree it's just confusing. I thought the woman on the left is his mother, others said it could be Kenjaku or Yorozu. Whoever that is, the meaning of what Sukuna says changes drastically here.

His relationship and history with Uraume is also insufficiently explored. This scene unfortunately does not have the emotional impact it could've had if Gege had planted the correct seeds previously.

Sukuna walking away from the curse that represents human hatred however is meaningful. That part was halfway build up during the Yorozu fight when Sukuna said he would be willing to accept defeat.

We get the end of the manga the way it started: with Sukuna's last finger back in a box in a small shrine. It's poetic but the path towards it, these last chapters and the last arcs...

...it felt underwhelming, not gonna lie. Towards this ending were those unneeded scenes with the NSS and even the majority of this chapter was unnecessary and wasted time. What could've been a better last chapter than this while still hitting all the same beats would've been one solely from Sukuna's point of view.

Sukuna from before his birth, his infancy, his childhood. Showing us the path he talks about here. Giving us a glimpse on what the Calamity was, his relationship with Uraume, showing us why he accepted Kenjaku's offer. Then the canon timeline but all of it from his view. His thoughts on Megumi while he possessed him. Even the talk Yuji had with Gojo could've been shown because of the established resonance between Yuji and Sukuna.

Then should come his talk with Mahito. Then we would've understood and sympathized with it without problems .

We did not need the trio's last mission. The end scene of ch 270 was enough to make us imagine that mission on our own. This chapter could've been about sth with more meaning and the exact ending of it could've still been achieved without problems, all e.g. with Sukuna's last thoughts narrated over the happy faces of Gojo's students 😣

Overall I liked the chapter but I felt like sth was missing from this entire ending. It was safe for Gege to write I guess but it was also boring in a lost potential kind of way...

...and then I see that fucking time on that one panel and I think again about Gege wanting to troll us!

That's the same time we saw in ch 269 and I have no idea what it's supposed to mean. So now I'll make one last fucked up prediction, partly meant to be serious, mostly meant to entertain me these last few hours before the official gets released:

The digital release of chapter 271 is going to be a different chapter than the magazine release.

Why???? Because wtf not?? Shueisha and Gege probably too hate the leaks and don't you think this is only a problem in the anglosphere. Of course the Japanese side distributes these leaks around as well. From one small glimpse I saw, Japanese fans are wondering if JJK was cancelled because of this ending.

It would also fit with the dream theory or just my own thoughts from above about a differently structured last chapter.

So like, why not troll the fanbase? Many of whom have shown with Gojo's death chapter how they can't keep their eyes away from the leaks. Previously my own thoughts had been that WSJ could release final chapters like this exclusively on digital first to nip the leak problem in the bud.

But like, don't take this theory too seriously 😄

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:

so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey

it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)

start by pulling him out of the fire

"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous

Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.

What is your writing process like?

I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.

How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?

Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.

When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?

I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.

What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.

What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.

How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?

I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’

What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?

Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Not that I can think of!

Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[allophonicmess]

Past's Lilac Haze

Chapter 2

Masterlist

You only wanted to help you niece with her theatre project. And it got you and your Timelord husband involved in an alien attack on one of London's most famous theatres.

So much for his retirement plans.

14th Doctor x Timelord!Wife! Reader

You travelled there quickly; Rose watched in fascination. She focused on each step, watching you turn leavers, press buttons, and dial symbols on the triangular screens, but in the end, she couldn't remember all the steps. 

"You can turn that on in a clockwise direction. Count to three while you are turning it." You said in concentration, pointing towards the position of the tool on the Tardis console.

Your niece gasped," Really? Oh, my god!" She looked at the Doctor for a second approval, but he just nodded at her with a soft smile as he leaned against the railings. 

Rose grinned, completing the task you assigned her to do. She looked at you for feedback, and you nodded at her; she did well.

"Almost there…" You said in concentration, keeping your eyes on the screen displaying your flight status. "Come here, look at this." You called her over, taking her by the shoulder to place her between you and the screen. 

"Here, keep your eyes on this." You pointed at a circular symbol. You would teach her to read Gallifreyan at one point, but she was way too clever, already figuring out how to fly the ship. It would be negligent to also teach her the systems language. You loved her; you both did. But you also knew she had it in her to straight up steal the Tardis for a solo trip if she knew how.

"Keep your eyes on it." You leaned over her, flipping another switch. "And here we go!" You laughed excitedly, feeling the machine shift around you as it set into the time vortex. It felt so good to finally be flying again. Just for the fun of it and not out of duty because you were ordered to do so.

"Woah! Are we moving in time?" Rose gasped, watching with childish wonder as the symbols started spinning and changing at a fast pace. "Doctor, look!" She called him to look at the wonderous machine before her.

"Oh, I know." He laughed, crossing his arms and looking at the two of you with pride. Was this what his life was going to be like? If so, he truly loved the idea of retirement and simple things. Watching the people he loved come together and travel for fun. No more saving worlds, fighting enemies, no more running. Just this.

It sounded like heaven.

"And, volà!" You said singly, pressing a few buttons that stopped the time machine. It gave a soft whine and jutted slightly as it settled onto the softened ground just off the bank of the River Thames. 

"Are we there?" Rose asked, a little confused. "It didn't make the landing sound." She looked at the Doctor, expressing her confusion. "You know: that uhue, uhue,…"

You hummed a little smugly, "Yeah, It's not supposed to do that." You turned away from the console to grab your coat. Where did you leave it again? Ugh, in the hallway, right. You loved the new, clean interior, but it could have been more practical. The coat hanger in number 12's ship had been a game changer, and you didn't know that you could miss something so simple so dearly. 

 "That sound is the handbrake." You called a little louder as you returned from the dresser in the hallway.

Rose looked accusingly at the Doctor, "You've been flying with the handbrake on? "But he sighed, shaking his head as he moved towards the exit. 

"Maybe. But it makes it easier to navigate the fifth dimension." He pushed the Tardis doors open, allowing his niece to take a look at London in the early modern period. It was all timbered houses, a little weird-looking with uneven stories and thatched roofs. 

"Whoa!" Rose laughed, in awe at the scene. "This is even better than New York!" She was about to step out and take the scene of the city in, but the Doctor quickly stopped her, holding her back with his arm over her front. "Careful! It's wet. Don't ruin your-"He vaguely motioned towards her light sneakers. What were they called again? She had told him multiple times, in fact. She wanted them for Christmas and almost suffocated him in a tight squeeze after unwrapping them under the Christmas tree. Expensive little things, but he wasn't one to judge. Human trend cycles were so much fun to watch, really. 

"It's the 16th century, dear. Everything is wet here." You said unamused, from behind them, pushing them slightly to free up the exit. 

Rose took a careful step outside, cringing slightly at the smell. Still, she quickly forgot about it when she saw the big wooden building behind her, just a few meters away. "It's the GGlobe! Oh my god!" She was surprisingly ecstatic about anything regarding Shakespeare. 

"Yup, and in it's original spot. It got destroyed and rebuilt somewhere over there." You pointed towards a rather shabby looking barn and tavern. 

"Hold on." Rose paused for a moment, lost in thought. "You said we were going to 1598. But, the Globe wasn't finished till 1699." She concluded.

The Doctor whistled, impressed at her deduction skills. "You really are Donna's daughter." He chucked, pulling her into a side hug. He blindly reached for your hand as he led the group towards the theatre, where a group had gathered to be let in. He squeezed your hand once he felt it in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

You loved his gentle nature, preferring the soft symbols of love instead of the grand acts of romance. "You're right. But I thought,' You know what? If we are going to a Shakespearean production of the play, we might as well go see it in the Globe."

"Oh, this is much better than seeing it at some random theatre."Rose cheered. The three of you arrived at the gates, and you paused the group momentarily. "Hold on. Do you want to get sitting or standing tickets?" You looked amongst yourselves for a moment.

"Well, standing is more immersive, but then again-"The Doctor thought out loud. But Rose interrupted him before he got to finish his sentence. 

"You are old. We get it." She smiled at him to soften the blow of her brutally honest statement. "Let's get seating." She hooked her arm into his and started moving towards the other entrance and away from the gate that led to the pit. You tried to stifle your laughter, amused at her statement. 

Your husband gasped in shock at his niece's audacity. She should call herself lucky; he only let that comment slide because he loved her. 

"You little-"He was pretending to be at a loss of words, playing into the role of the upset elderly.

"As you said, Donna's daughter." You shrugged, squeezing his hand once more as you entered the small building set up in front of the theatre that acted as a ticket shop.

You had been able to get rather good seating tickets, allowing the three of you to get comfortable in the lower ranks of the circular theatre. Or as comfortable as possible, considering the seating area consisted of wooden planks nailed onto other wooden elements. It wasn't called 'the wooden o' for nothing. 

But Rose didn't mind. She was seated comfortably between her two timelord companions and studied the people moving through the theatre with great admiration. Travelling through space had been mesmerizing to her. And she admired you, maybe even envied you, for being able to travel all around the world so easily and in no time. 

Unbeknownst to her, there had been a discussion between you, the Doctor and Donna about Rose's permission to travel. Her mother knew that forbidding her to do so wholly would make no sense. She would do it any way but in a much more dangerous way; worst case, all on her own and with no one to call to for help. 

So you agreed to take it easy. Time and space travel in a light and minor friendly style. In practice, that meant exploring only one dimension at a time. Space travel? OK, keep it to Earth and the solar system for now and stay in real-time. Time travelling? Alright, but you stay on earth and don't interfere with crucial moments in time or interact with historical figures. 

It was a good agreement and assured both parties that nothing too wild would happen on the small family trips. Another positive was that it got the Doctor thinking about the absurd and frankly life-threatening places he had visited regularly in the past. Reflection was key. So now a whiteboard hung in your shared study to collect 'Rose safe travel spots'. 

"You two are settled? Feeling good?" You asked your niece, touching her arm softly to get her attention. Her eyes had been wandering over the crowd nonstop as she was oh-ing and ah-ing at her fellow theatregoers. Only this time, there happened to be a diverse mix of classes from the 17th century, all gathering to watch the play that she dreaded to perform in her 21st-century theatre class. 

The Doctor had leaned closer to her, sometimes pointing towards particularly interesting-looking people or explaining customs that would seem strange to someone born in the mid-2000s. He enjoyed the role of the spectator more than he had imagined. It was easy and allowed him to finally release the tension he usually held in his body when travelling. There had always been the need to stay on high alert to protect his companions or find the source of danger before it was too late. Allowing himself to relax typically meant that others would get hurt or die. But this newly acquired retirement allowed him to lean back and enjoy for once. The other Doctor would take care of it. He knew that he would be hungry for the chase at some point later in time. Still, he was content with taking his wife and niece to the theatre like other families did, only with the perks of owning a space and time machine. 

"Yup, all good." The Doctor answered for the two of them. He leaned forward just like you did to catch your eyes. He smiled softly at you.

"Great, I'll just get some snacks before the performance starts. You want some grapes?" You asked Rose, who was finally loosened from her trance. She looked at you with confusion at the seemingly absurd question. 

"Grapes? Can't we get real snacks?" She tried to find the vendor moving through the pit, scanning what he was offering from his vendor's tray.

"Well, they may have other fruits and nuts, but nothing snacky like you suggest." You listed a few items; none of them sparked her interest. 

"Should have come here for the evening performance then. That's when they roll out the rotisserie chicken and oysters." The Doctor commented, making the young woman cringe.

"I'm still vegan, you know. And oysters, really?" She shook her head to let go of the thought. "Um, just a drink, please. Water- No, wait, you couldn't drink that. It's poisonous, right?... I don't know, just nothing too fancy, please."

You nodded, getting up and moving through the tightly packed crowed towards the moving vendor.

"What can I get such a beautiful lady?" He asked, already prepping a few cups of wine for the thirsty crowd. 

"I'll have-"

You stopped. 

It was a lovely, slightly chilly but pretty warm day, reading that you had just entered May. Only some lone clouds graced the sky; the sun was shining. So why did you feel that sizzle of electricity? It felt like that rush in the air, the pressure around you just before a thunderstorm. Your eyes wandered through the crowd, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. 

"What is it that you want?" The vendor asked, somewhat annoyed at your sudden loss of focus. A line had formed behind you. 

"Um, sorry. Some ale, please. Two cups." You paid for the overpriced, watered down beer and returned to your seats where your companions waited. You took a deep breath, focusing on the sloshing liquid, trying not to spill any and to calm your nerves. 

 Everything was fine.

 It's a Wednesday at the theatre, all was fine. 

But your eyes locked with the Doctors when you returned to your seat. He let Rose ramble on about some man with extraordinarily pointy shoes, only focusing on you. The two of you had perfected the non-verbal communication of eye contact. 

'All good?'

'I don't know. Something feels off…'

'You noticed it, too.'

He agreed to your assumption with a micro expression, slightly pursing his lips. You hardly saw it, ensuring that Rose wasn't aware of your exchange.

'Do we leave?'

At that moment, the third stage bell sounded, informing everyone that the show was about to begin. The movement in the pit stopped, and people in the rows sat down as the band started playing.

"Why are you still standing? It's starting." Rose said in a hushed tone, pulling your sleeve to have you sit down. "Is that mine?" She took one of the cups from you, smelling it before taking a small sip. 

You shared one more look with the Doctor before sitting down.

'It's fine. Probably just the weather.'

What a lazy lie, but you didn't want to ruin the fun for Rose. She was grinning from ear to ear, watching the performers enter the stage. You couldn't force her to leave now over the unreliable feeling that something might be off. 

It could be a minor solar storm or any irrelevant situation that just happened to make your instincts act like a real threat would. 

"Ugh, is this beer?" Rose cringed, starring angrily at the cup in her hand. 

"It's ale. It's what people drink since water is poisonous, remember?" The Doctor jested, taking the cup from her hand and taking a big sip from it to overexaggerate the joke. 

The three of you watched the performance. The actors were rather good, but you were thankful for the Tardis translations aiding Rose. Early Modern English was painful to listen to at times.

You had been able to relax after the first two acts passed with noting out of the ordinary. Rose had been fascinated by the mechanicals. Patting your leg to get your attention when the actor for Peter Quince, her assigned role, entered the stage in the first act. 

"Now it's time for the third act. They meet in the forest for the rehearsal." She whispered to you when she noticed your focus shifting away from the stage. 

 "Pat, pat. And here's a marvels convenient

place for our rehearsal. This green plot shall be

our stage, this hawthorn brake our tiring-house,

and we will do it in action as we will do it before the Duke."

Rose quietly followed the lines, mouthing the words as the actor spoke them. The Doctor noticed your mental absence, leaning back to create eye contact behind Rose.

'You are alright?'

'Mhm'

You leaned forward to escape his line of view, but he moved in tandem with you.

'No, don't do that. You tell me not to do that, so don't do that yourself.'

'I'm not doing anything.'

'Your acting.. off'

'Off?'

'Oh please, your focus is somewhere else. You still have that feeling, don't you?'

 He raised his eyebrows expectingly at you. But you just shook your head.

'Yes… No,- I'm not sure it's like-'

"What are you two doing?" Rose looked between the two of you. She had noticed the staring contest that you held over her. 

"What hempen homespuns have we swagg'ring here

So near the cradle of the Fairy Queen?

What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor—

An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause."

Puck entered the stage, watching the mechanics rehearse their play. He was weaving between them, watching each one of them closely as they stayed frozen in their positions.

"Sorry, we were just-"You tried to explain but stopped when that feeling returned. You gasped, feeling a cold shower run down your back. There was unusual movement in the crowd. The people started to get uneasy, and murmuring started to get louder. The crowed started yelling at the actors. 

Why?

Because they still stood there, frozen in their movements. Only puck was slowly moving over the stage, walking towards the front of it. 

You enjoy this iffy play

Where humans pretend to hold magie

You wander blindly night and day

Ignoring the magic amongst thee

But I shall show you what there is

Behind this sadly tiring ground

When I cast around you blinding mist

And set for terror, you are bound

The yells of dissatisfaction turned into screams of terror as the monologue ended, and small, flying creatures started to attack the crowd. Rose instinctively leaned into you, trying to find safety between the two timelords beside her. 

You sighed with a profound exhaustion. Could the universe leave you alone? At least once?

[oddinary4bts]

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 6 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in previous/later chapters)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: mentions of sex/hot tub scene. hickey. angst (oops), might be a curse somewhere in there?

☆word count: 5.8k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: I am very sorry for all the angst that is to follow. Please don't hate me and please enjoy reading still haha! Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, July 8th

                Waking up next to Jungkook feels weird. You reckon it might be because you haven’t slept a lot, and people are already moving around the cottage. You’ve refused to open your eyes so far, just because you’ve heard Jiho and Hobi whispering about you and Jungkook and you feel too much of a coward to admit you probably fucked things up with him already.

You think Jiho has taken a picture. Knowing her, she definitely has, and you wish you could just disappear for a time. You eventually force yourself to get up though, before Jungkook who is still dead asleep when you move to the kitchen. You suffer through Jiho’s questioning, but she quickly notices that you’re shut off, lost in thought and maybe even dabbling in a little regret too.

From there she shuts down everyone that asks questions, and by the time Jungkook gets up, everyone is just pretending they haven’t noticed that something definitely happened between the two of you.

Jungkook doesn’t really look at you. He eats breakfast chatting with Taehyung and Jin, avoiding you like the plague. You can tell you’ve hurt him, but you don’t know how to fix it. After all, you’ve never really been acquainted with feelings yourself. Especially not after your parents’ divorce.

The day feels heavy. It’s still warm outside, far too much, and a veil of dark clouds is looming over the horizon by the time you have to leave the cottage. Your mood imitates the weather, and you find yourself brooding more than you usually do.

You haven’t been able to talk to Jungkook yet. Mostly because he’s been avoiding you, yes. But also because you don’t know what to tell him.

“Hey, I’m shit at relationships and feelings, yesterday felt too real” sounds like too much of a confession. Even though it is the truth, you’re a coward, through and through.

Jiho’s been trying to get your mind off things. Texting you random stupid things, sending you memes as Hobi drives the four of you home. Heather is riding with Chaeyeon, Lance and Bridget this time around, so there’s a space between you and Jungkook. This time, when he falls asleep, he falls asleep with his head resting against the window, and not on your shoulder.

It starts raining halfway home, and Hobi drives slower, windshield wiper going on full blast. Jiho sends you yet another meme – something absurd you can’t bring yourself to find funny. It earns you a frown from your best friend, and a second later your phone vibrates in your hand.

[1:23 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re supposed to laugh☹️ [1:23 pm] You: i want to talk to Jungkook but idk what to tell him🫠 [1:25 pm] Jiho❣️: what really happened yesterday? i wanna help but it’s hard if idk [1:26 pm] You: we made out in the hot tub then fucked when we were supposed to sleep🤡 [1:26 pm] Jiho❣️: bruh i wish i had a make-out session in the hot tub [1:27 pm] You: 🙄🙄 [1:27 pm] Jiho❣️: sorry [1:27 pm] Jiho❣️: pretty sure more than just fucking happened considering both of you are upset [1:30 pm] You: i told him we shouldn’t have fucked after and he got upset [1:31 pm] Jiho❣️: bitch he’s into u ofc he’ll be upset [1:31 pm] You: u’re not helping [1:32 pm] Jiho❣️: are u into him?

You don’t know the answer. You ask yourself that question for the rest of the day, and you reckon you really don’t know. A lot changed between you and Jungkook over the weekend, but it’s hard to ignore the fact you have never really liked him. Because he was a dick and a bully to you for years.

It’s not something you think you can just forget because you’ve had sex with him once. And you don’t even know if you’d be interested in a relationship with him anyway. You’ve never been in a relationship before at all, and the thought of it terrifies you.

The thought of Jungkook being upset with you terrifies you in equal measures, but you refuse to admit it to yourself. Maybe because you’re trying to protect yourself. It’s hard to tell. You feel like you won’t be able to go through your feelings by yourself – they’re overwhelming, all of them.

Thinking about Jungkook is overwhelming. Thinking about dancing under the stars, about his scar, about the way he held onto you after he finished. Everything is overwhelming, and it makes you anxious. Jumpy, even, as you’re sitting in your room in your mother’s empty house later at night.

You’re halfway through a Studio Ghibli movie that was supposed to help you relax when you decide to text your therapist to schedule an appointment this week. It feels like the right thing to do – you know Mary has always been able to help you sort through your thoughts, even though you haven’t seen her in months.

You don’t expect her to reply tonight considering it’s late in the evening, but you linger on your messaging app. You can’t resist but scroll down a little, down to where Jungkook’s name lies on the screen. You click on the conversation, rereading the last messages he sent you from when he was drunk a little over a week ago. It makes your heart squeeze in your chest a little, and you scroll all the way up to the first time he texted you in April. You haven’t talked much at all, so it’s not like there’s a lot, but you can’t help yourself. You reread everything, entirely ignoring the movie playing on your laptop.

When you’re done reading, you find yourself typing a text even though you don’t know what to say. It seems your fingers know, because a moment later you find yourself staring at a fully formed sentence. It looks as if it’s taunting you, and you reread it so many times the words start to lose their meaning.

[9:47 pm] You: hey, i really enjoyed the weekend with u and i’m genuinely really sorry about yesterday…

It takes you all the courage your body can conjure up to press send. You immediately turn off your phone to focus on your laptop and on the movie, though it doesn’t really work at all. The anxiety the message has brought up in you makes the story of Totoro way too hard to follow, and you’re merely watching the scenes, barely even blinking.

When the movie ends, you get ready for bed. You haven’t dared check your phone yet, but a little bit of anticipation has been steadily building inside of you. Because you hope he’ll answer. You hope you won’t have to explain why you are the way that you are for things to go back to normal with him. Maybe because offering him your vulnerability feels like too much of a commitment for someone that doesn’t do commitments at all.

You know you’ll hate yourself at your internship the next day, but you can’t really sleep after you’ve settled under the comforter in your bed. It’s way past midnight when you finally gather the courage to look at your phone, teeth worrying at your bottom lip.

Your empty notification screen stares back at you, as if to say ‘you really thought that would change anything?’

You sigh, putting your phone away on your night table before turning on your side, grabbing a pillow to hold. It’s still raining outside, and your brain focuses on the splattering of rain on the panes of the window. You think maybe Jungkook went to bed early, considering you didn’t get a lot of sleep in the last two days. Maybe he’s asleep and will reply tomorrow…

You cling onto that hope as the sound of the rain finally lulls you to a troubled sleep.

Tuesday, July 10th

                Jungkook has been in a shit mood. He knows why, and it’s strange to think that it’s not his leg for once. What makes it worse is that everyone around him knows too, thanks to the hickey on his neck.

And it’s only worse when you don’t show up to dance practice. Jiho mentions something about you being stuck at your internship, but Jungkook doesn’t ask. He feels like maybe he could text you to make sure you’re okay. His heart wants him to do it, but his mind is stronger.

And his mind has been winning the war against his heart so far. He won’t cave in now. But he’s still in a shit mood when he gets home after practice. It feels even worse when he sees Taehyung and Jo cuddled up on the couch, and Jimin sprawled up on the floor.

Jimin’s texting away on his phone, and Taehyung meets Jungkook’s gaze where he stopped by the door.

“Practice is already done?” Taehyung asks.

It brings Jimin and Jo’s attention to Jungkook. He just stands there for a time, not knowing what to say.

Not wanting to admit he wrapped dance practice earlier because he was pissed that you weren’t there.

“Yeah,” Jungkook lets out flatly. He finally starts moving again, aiming straight to the kitchen.

He misses the way Jo and Taehyung exchange a concerned look when he passes in front of them, or maybe he just ignores it. He’s been ignoring Jo since the weekend, because it feels like too much pressure to admit that her plan worked and failed in the same night.

Yes, he got to sleep with you, but he’d take it back if he could. Just so it wouldn’t lead to where you’re standing now. Because he’s never replied to your text on Sunday night. Maybe because it was too early, and seeing it just pissed him off more.

Or maybe he’s just trying to preserve himself because he’s realized being with you might be a lot more complicated than previously thought.

He’s pouring cereal in a bowl when he receives a text. He fears that he’s conjured you up for a few seconds, but then he reads the name at the head of the notification. Laura. He furrows his brows, reading her text a few times over to make sure he’s read well. On his fifth reading he reckons the words won’t change even if he keeps glaring at them.

And Laura doesn’t deserve him being upset with her too. Actually, he realizes she might be just what he needs – a distraction, perhaps. Because all he wants is to forget how it felt to be with you last Saturday. And it’s not even about the sex. No, the part that’s been sticking with him is the moment between the hot tub and the sex. When he laid his heart on the table for you.

Had he known you were going to step on it a little under an hour later, Jungkook knows he would have never asked you to dance. It was a stupid request, one that made everything too real.

He can’t really blame you for getting scared. Because he knows that’s what it is. You got scared when he told you you should have slept together before, and he’s been embarrassed since then. Because he said the words in the heat of the action, and even though he meant them – means them – he’d rather not have told you.

Because now when he thinks of you he’s embarrassed, upset, and of course he’s pissed. He’s been in a shit mood after all.

He sighs, pushing his hair back before moving to the fridge to grab the milk. He pours some in the bowl, before grabbing a spoon in the drawer and making his way to the table, where he sits to eat the cereals. He’s halfway through his bowl when he finally decides to open his phone and reply to Laura.

[9:01 pm] Laura: Hey, I gotta admit… I’d like to see you sometime this week? If you’re up for it ofc [9:08 pm] Jungkook: yes ofc! i’m free tmrw evening if u want😌

He doesn’t even know if he actually wants to see her. It makes him think of when he helped her with her camera last week. Laura is sweet. Cute and shy. She’s his type, he can’t deny it. But she’s nice, and he doesn’t think she deserves him using her as a distraction.

He reckons he’s a mess. You’ve been messing with his head far too much, and he doesn’t like that you have that power over him. He doesn’t want anyone to have that power over him.

Yet it’s relieving that for once his mind isn’t clouded with dark thoughts related to the accident. Because he can’t really think about the accident when you’re there whenever he closes his eyes. When he can almost feel your warmth lingering under his fingers, along his body. When he thinks he can still smell your shampoo, and feel your soft skin.

The way that he feels disgusts him. It makes him scoff, and he’s frowning as he finishes eating his cereals. The frown only relaxes when Laura texts him again.

[9:12 pm] Laura: I’m available too! There’s a restaurant I’ve been wanting to try? Is that something you’d like to do?

The way that she texts sounds formal. It makes him laugh, and he finds himself replying,

[9:13 pm] Jungkook: wait, so then it’s a date date uh? [9:16 pm] Laura: Maybe?☺️ [9:17 pm] Jungkook: is 7 o’clock good for u?

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He doesn’t usually do real dates, preferring hanging out at the girl’s place or inviting her over for one of the many parties they usually host. But he needs the distraction, right?

And when he’s texting Laura, he realizes he’s not thinking about you as much. It’s relieving after the last few days, and really, maybe he should just give her a chance.

Wednesday, July 11th

                Your therapist works in a building that’s surprisingly not too far from your internship. You were able to schedule an appointment for tonight, which is a relief.

You’ve been thinking about this weekend so much you haven’t been able to focus at the internship. So much so that you were stuck at the office later yesterday. You didn’t mind having to skip the dance practice though – you were glad you didn’t have to see Jungkook.

But now, it’s time for you to sort out your thoughts about the whole situation. As much as pretending that everything is fine can be fun, you also hate the way your mind wanders every night. Especially considering Jungkook never replied to your text last Sunday.

You feel like he’s slipping through your fingers. And maybe he is, and maybe all of this will be for nothing.

Well, not necessarily nothing, since it’s always good to get a grip of yourself.

You sigh, and you walk into the building right before a rain shower starts. You’re relieved you were able to avoid getting wet, and you walk to the front desk to give your name to the lady. She puts you in the computer and then tells you to sit in the waiting room. You thank her, and you’ve barely had time to sit when Mary comes to get you.

Mary’s office hasn’t changed one bit since the last time you sought her help in February. You sit on the same couch, and she offers you a glass of water as she greets you. And then she asks what brings you there.

At that you still. You freeze, like a deer in headlights, because for a moment you’re terrified of having to say the words aloud. Terrified to admit you felt something last Saturday, and you think you’ve already screwed it all up. She listens to you intently, and you watch her scribble on her pad as you do so. You’re tempted to read what she’s written; you’ve always wondered what it is that therapists write on that notebook of theirs.

Is she piecing out your soul the way that you feel like she is?

You tell her everything. You tell her about how Jungkook came back into your life, differently this time. You tell her about the dance practices, and about your internship too. You tell her about last weekend, and you reveal every little dirty thought your brain dared to think. Mary doesn’t judge, and when you’re done, the only thing she says is, “You’re really good at psycho-analyzing yourself”.

You reckon she’s right. Because you know exactly why you acted the way that you did – with the example your parents gave you of love growing up, it’s hard to actually love. It’s even harder to deconstruct it, to deconstruct the fear until you can build yourself back into someone that can love.

It’s not that you think you can’t. You love Jiho, Jisung and their family plenty. But it’s different when it’s love with a big L. It’s always been, and you’ve never once really wanted to change it.

But now you do. You’ve been using your fears to protect yourself from others for far too long.

Mary makes a plan with you. Nothing too big, but she does suggest scheduling another appointment next week. Because you knowing what you need to do is half of the work, yes, but you still need to put it into practice. You agree with her, and you leave her office feeling lighter than you’ve felt in days.

The plan is for you to ask Jungkook if you can talk. You have the option to wait until tomorrow at dance practice, or to text him tonight, just so he knows in advance that you want to talk to him. Mary favoured the latter, saying that it’d give him time to prepare if he has things to tell you too.

You have no idea if he does, but the moment on Saturday felt heavy. You doubt there’s been nothing on his mind since then… because you were there. You know how it felt like, under the stars and after that. And the whole weekend, if you’re honest to yourself. You doubt he was immune to it.

You decide to wait a little before you text him. Just to make sure you really are going to do this. Because it feels like you’re standing at the top of a cliff, and you’ve never been a cliff diver. No, you’re far too afraid of heights. But the fact that you haven’t been able to get Jungkook off your mind tells you enough: you’d jump off the highest cliff for him.

Because if you don’t risk it, what is there to win?

So it’s later that night, when you’re rewatching your favourite anime, that you find yourself pausing the show. You go to your messaging app, and heart beating out of your chest you type a message. Something simple, something straight to the point. Because the fact he ignored your last message says enough: Jungkook won’t cave in for apologies, especially not over text.

You settle on,

[9:31 pm] You: hey jk! can we talk tmrw after practice?😌

You press send before you can convince yourself that this is not a good idea, and anxiety blooms in every inch of you. It’s a foreign feeling: you’ve never been so anxious when it came to someone else before in your life.

Watching your favourite anime after that has never been so hard.

Thursday, July 12th

                You don’t want to go to practice. Everything feels like it’s going too fast and too slow at the same time: waiting for Jungkook to reply is excruciatingly long, and having to head to the dance studio is coming far too quickly.

Jungkook hasn’t replied. You texted Mary about it – she said to see in person if Jungkook wants to talk, but to also respect it if he doesn’t. It makes you far less hopeful than you were when you got out of her office yesterday, but you know she is right.

If this is his way of setting a boundary, you will have to respect. No matter how much it upsets you.

So it’s in an anxious state of mind that you make your way to the studio. You run into Jiho on the way, and you’re worrying at your bottom lip when she asks, “What’s wrong?”

Your steps falter a little, and you throw her a side glance. “Uh?”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks.

She knows that you used to see a therapist. But telling her that you saw Mary again about Jungkook feels like too big of a confession. It gives him too much power, and you’re not sure you’re ready for that. But you can tell some parts of the truth, can you?

“I’m going to try and talk to Jungkook tonight.”

Jiho remains suspiciously silent for a time. “Are you sure you want to talk to him?”

“I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “I just feel bad about this weekend.” Jiho offers you a sad smile, as your eyes fall to the concrete in front of you. “It’s just like, I don’t know, I liked where last weekend was going and I don’t want it to go back to the way things were before.” You pause, already feeling a little lighter now that you’ve started talking to your best friend. “Like I know I got scared and all, but he’s actually pretty decent?”

Now, Jiho’s smile has turned knowing, and she nudges you with her elbow. “I think I saw that coming from miles away but I didn’t want you to kill me.”

“Uh?” you let out, feeling a little confused.

“Everyone always thought you two were into each other,” she admits, and she laughs loudly when you push her. “Exactly why I didn’t want to tell you,” she says when her laughter subsides as you offer her a fake glare, lips jutting out in a small pout.

“I mean, I don’t even know if that’s where things are going,” you say. Your fear returns, and you’re back to nibbling on your lower lip. “Like, maybe I just fucked up too bad?”

“Did you talk since then?” Jiho asks.

You refuse to look at her when you reply. “No. He ignored my texts.”

From the corner of your eyes you see Jiho wince. Because she knows just as well as you what it probably means, and you don’t want to hear her say it.

“What did you tell him?”

You shrug your shoulders, trying to act as indifferent as possible. “Sunday I said that I was sorry, and I asked him if we could talk after dance practice yesterday.”

“And he said nothing?”

It’s rhetorical, so you remain silent. You’re reaching the bridge, and you know the conversation will soon come to an obligated end anyway.

“Babe…”  Jiho lets out carefully. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to him.”

It makes you scoff. “I’ll be chill, don’t worry.”

“I’m not saying you won’t be,” Jiho says. She grabs your arm to make you stop. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk.”

You free your arm from her grip, though she was already letting you go. “I’ll ask. We’ll see. I just want to clear the air.”

Jiho holds your defiant gaze for a while, before nodding once. “Alright. Sounds good. You let me know what he says.” She pauses for a few seconds, before adding, “And we’re still on for Thirsty Thursdays after that.”

Of course you are, and of course you’ll tell her. She’s your best friend after all, and you don’t remember a time when you really hid anything from her.

It doesn’t stop your heart from aching in your chest as you near the studio.

*****

                Dance practice feels weird. You can’t help your eyes from diverting to Jungkook where he’s standing, next to the mirrors. He’s good at pretending he doesn’t feel your gaze on him, yet more than once you catch him already looking.

He looks good. He’s in paler clothes than his usual today – light blue jeans with an oversized white t-shirt – and his hair is ruffled by the way he keeps running his hands through it. He looks like he doesn’t care, almost. Because you can tell he’s anxious about something whenever you catch him pulling at his piercing, eyebrows slightly furrowed over his eyes.

You don’t know when you started being able to read him so well, but you surely can now.

He calls dance practice off earlier than his usual, and he still hasn’t really looked at you. You’re pretty sure everyone has noticed by now, especially considering the fact Jiho hasn’t really been subtle about it. She’s glaring at Jungkook most of the time, and he just shrugs his shoulders to her.

It’s weird. Something is off, but if you’re going to do this, you’ll do it, right?

It’s in that anxious state of mind that you approach him as everyone filters out. His hands are buried in his pockets and he’s leaning against the mirror. It’s like he’s waiting for you, and you figure maybe he did read your message after all.

The first few seconds of standing in front of him are far more awkward than anything you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. You don’t know what to say, don’t know where to start, and Jungkook’s head is hanging too low for you to be able to catch his gaze without invading his personal space. So you stay rooted in your spot, and you wait for him to look at you. It takes a while, but he eventually looks up.

You’re taken aback by the bitter annoyance his features hold. “What?”

You’ve written in your notes app what you wanted to say. You’ve even practiced it, but now you don’t remember a single word.

His eyes are sad. It’s the only thing that feels different on his features. The rest is all annoyed: his eyebrows are furrowed, the corners of his lips are pointing downwards. His shoulders are low, defeated, and he seems to realize it because he straightens and folds his arms on his chest.

“Uh,” you choke out against the anxiety that’s building up inside of you. “I just…”

“If you want to apologize again, I received your message last Sunday.”

You brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, before folding your arms on your chest too. “Why did you ignore me?”

He shrugs, shaking his head a little as he looks away. “I have nothing to tell you.”

“Jungkook, can you please not? We’re adults.”

“Yeah, and I’m choosing to not be talking with you. I’m sure you can respect that?”

You can. You definitely can. But at the same time you can’t. Not when he says it like that, like it’s some sort of an insult.

“Why are you overreacting like that?”

“Because I’m fucking embarrassed about last weekend!” he bursts. “I wish it never happened.”

It hurts. It stings and burns, and you hold your arms tighter against you. “You’re embarrassed? Is that why you said you wished we did it earlier?”

His gaze turns vicious, like he’s a viper waiting to strike. “See, that’s exactly why I do not want to talk to you. I don’t think we can be friends either. We’ve never been friends, like you oh so kindly reminded me, and that won’t change.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to relax, because this is not where you want this conversation to be going. “Listen,” you say after a few seconds of silence, “I really don’t want to be fighting with you. I just want to clear the air.”

“The air is cleared,” he says as you open your eyes to meet his fiery gaze again. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.”

You’re struck then. You feel like you either have the choice to confess or to stick to your anger. And you try to confess, you really do. It’s not like with Jiho – Jungkook was part of the moment Saturday, he was there with you under the stars. So it shouldn’t be too hard to tell him, to say you got scared.

You open your mouth to say the words, and shut it immediately as he scoffs.

“See, I don’t even think we should be speaking at all,” he says. There’s a fraction of a second when you’re convinced you can read pain in his gaze before he continues, “I’m actually seeing Laura, and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

Every word you’ve ever known vanishes from your mind. You just stand there for a moment, mouth hanging open, ears ringing as you look at him. You feel like you’re falling, or maybe you’re getting crushed. It’s hard to tell. It’s equally as hard to breathe, and your lungs burn as oxygen fills them.

“What?”

“I went on a date with Laura and I actually like the girl, I don’t want to fuck things up by talking to you,” he says, slowly, as if he needs to hammer every word into your head.

Laura? The girl from his class?

“Isn’t that the girl you told me you don’t care about?”

Your voice is somehow flat. Empty of the emotions it held just a few seconds ago.

“I went on a date with her and I like her,” he repeats as if you’re stupid and didn’t understand the first time around. As if your heart is not breaking in your chest, infinitely so.

You didn’t know how big your heart is until this moment, when every beat just breaks a little more, and all you can think to do is hold yourself tighter. As if it’ll stop the breaking.

“When?”

“Why do you want to know?” he asks, and his eyes fall shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. You really do feel stupid then, stupid and foolish and everything in between. Like you’re a five-years-old that keeps messing her right from her left.

“I… how the fuck did you go on a date with her already, it’s been four days?”

“A lot can change in four days, Y/n,” he drawls.

You think your nails might be digging in your palms from how hard you’re clenching your fists. “Wow.”

The studio falls silent. It’s heavy, and maybe the silence is what’s been crushing you. Because you were expecting it – the moment you and Jungkook wouldn’t have anything else to tell each other. Because for everything you were willing to confess, now there’s just an empty spot inside of you.

You hold his gaze. He doesn’t look all that infuriated anymore. Defeated, yes, and maybe a little deflated. He looks like he didn’t expect the conversation to go there.

But you were right. Turns out you were right and you are too late. You can’t help but hate him for it.

“You don’t waste your time, do you?” you ask, and you scoff bitterly. “You fuck one girl and then another in just a few days. Suits you well.”

He rolls his eyes. “As I said, I wish we didn’t sleep together. If I could take last weekend back I would.” He shrugs then, shaking his head a little. “I’m sure you understand.”

You purse your lips, trying to keep them from trembling as you feel a lump form in your throat. “I can’t believe you’re already fucking some other girl.”

“Okay, Y/n, as if that’s going to change anything.”

You nod, and you find yourself fleeing his gaze. Because you don’t want him to see how you’re breaking inside. How every piece of you turns inside out, until you’re bleeding out standing there in front of him.

“Just…”

You think about the stars. You think about the way he led you in that dance, the way his eyes shone as he looked at you.

Jungkook is cataclysmic. He really is. And cataclysms are rarely good, are they? They can create, yes, the way the universe was once created, but they destroy. They destroy and destroy until nothing remains, until you just feel like you’re drowning and burning all at once.

“Save your breath,” he says. You think his gaze is shining again, and you don’t think it’s shining for the same reason that it was under the stars. “And I mean that in the most respectful way.”

“Right. As if that would ever sound respectful.”

He rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, whatever. I’m done here.”

It occurs to you that you’re about to watch someone you care about walk out of your life again. You want to reach out and hold him, to tell him how you feel, to say how everything has started to hurt, but you can’t. You can just look at him, hold his gaze until he makes the decision to go.

He’s gone before you’ve truly assimilated just how bad everything went. Just how far south things went, and how fiercely everything burns. And you stand there for a long time, holding yourself, waiting for the heartbreak to stop. But the thing with heartbreak is that it never fully stops, does it? You just learn to deal with it better.

It’s weird. You never thought you could be cold and burning at the same time. But if this is hell, then hell has frozen over because you’re shivering, just holding yourself.

You feel like you’re sixteen again, like you watched your dad walk out of your life again. Maybe because Jungkook really was the cataclysm to you, and now you’re stuck with the aftermath.

But you don’t cry. No, you hold the tears in. Force them to dry without having rolled on your cheeks, convince them that you don’t care. It’s something you’re good at. Pretending. Because maybe you’ve been pretending you hate Jungkook for a lot longer than you thought. Maybe that’s the reason why it hurts so bad.

But you won’t cry, no. You won’t cry for Jeon Jungkook.

You get home later that night, after having walked through a daze for the whole evening. You’re drunk, and you’re still aching from the inside out. Your phone is in your hand, and you’ve been on Jungkook’s conversation for so long without blinking that your eyes have fully gone dry.

You watch the text you’ve just sent, the only proof that you ever cared about Jungkook.

[2:31 am] You: i reall y wish things ddn’t go so bad

It takes you three days to realize it never delivered.

Friday, July 20th

                It takes Jungkook a little under two weeks to officialise things with Laura. It’s moving quickly, he’s aware of it, but he’s been trying to ignore the way he saw your heart break in your eyes. It seems the best way to do it is to watch feelings swell in someone else’s gaze, and so he asks Laura to be his girlfriend after their third date.

She says yes, beaming like she’s the sun personified.

Still, when Jungkook closes his eyes at night, all he sees is your heart breaking in your eyes.

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☆☆☆☆☆

yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh.. my bad. I really went far with this angst uh? What do we think? What's going to happen next?

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[cnnmonbimee]

please tell us your thoughts about Nene's feelings (re: Ch. 115)! ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

DON'T MIND IF I DO, ANON!!!

Before that, thanks for the ask! I do have a lot to talk about Nene's feelings in these recent chapters but didn't know where to express it, and then you showed up in my inbox like an angel!! Bless you!!!

My thoughts are pretty jumbled to be honest and I'm not used to writing long posts so I apologize in advance if this gonna be a bit messy lmao. But here goes!!!

Let's talk about Nene's feelings 🤍

One thing we know for sure now, is that Nene is inevitably in love with Hanako. And her love for him is big. Might be just as big as Hanako's for her now.

Another thing that I noticed in the recent chapters is how the tables kinda have turned? I'm not sure if it's just me, but I always feel like before this we've been given more emphasis on Hanako losing Nene. Whether in canon, fanarts, or fics, I think I see more of works that explore on Hanako losing Nene (whether she dies, or lives, it's about him letting go of her.)

But in the recent chapters, I can see that it's happening the other way around! Nene is losing Hanako. Again and again. She lost him for a while in Picture Perfect, she lost him during the Severance, and now she's losing him again. Every time she feels like she has him in her grasp, he keeps moving away and away.

(Sneakily showing you this one scene from the musical where Hanako was moving away from Nene after she held him from behind. She had him in her grasp but he's moving farther away...)

I love how AidaIro are giving more emphasis on Nene's feelings these days. I'm sure some yall have noticed this too. It's not just in canon, even in AUs we can see how Nene is openly showing her feelings towards him to the audience. Last year' Christmas event when she became the Santa Claus of love and shot him love arrows. And even her song for ASHK ending, Koi! Koi Koi, explored on her growing feelings for this certain ghost boy. And I'm loving every second of this!

We all know that Nene before this has always been in a denial when it comes to her feelings for Hanako. Like. It's obvious that she has a liking to him even in the earlier chapters. But she'll never admit it. Nene used to deny or deflect any claims made to her about her feelings for Hanako.

But she loves it when he calls her name.

And she didn't deny when Mitsuba confronted her here! She didn't deny when Mitsuba asked if she loved Hanako.

She wanted to go back to Hanako when she was whisked away by Tsukasa.

She thinks of Hanako here. She thinks of Hanako there. Just as how doomed Hanako is for falling in love with Nene, it's no different for her too. She's doomed. Because she loves him now. And this love she has for him is undeniably big.

I really like how she actually forgot this jerk here lol. Girlie moved on so well she actually took a few seconds longer to recognize the guy that she worked hard for in the span of three years just for a failed confession (and an insult).

Anyways!!! Back on track with chapter 115!!! I'm excited to know what Nene's gonna do now. She was determined to change the timeline back when she couldn't find Hanako here, but now knowing that he'd lived and became a teacher just as how he's supposed to, would she have a change a heart?

I might be overly dramatic for this, but I like how hananene is always about sacrificing. Let's look a bit into the difference between Hanako's sacrifice for Nene to live and Nene's possible sacrifice for him now.

Hanako's sacrifice in order for Nene to live was both selfish and selfless. It was more so in a gray area in my opinion. He was selfless for wanting her to be happy even without him, but selfish for doing and deciding things alone without actually asking what she wanted. He wanted her to be happy, but he wanted to be the one who gave that happiness to her, even without being close to her.

(A little sidetrack here again but I noticed that Hanako selfishly loves Nene by pushing her away, and selfishly loves Tsukasa by keeping him close. I just love to see the differences!!)

Meanwhile, Nene's choice of whether she's willing to sacrifice her own feelings in order Hanako to be happy here in this timeline would be just black and white selfish and selfless. It'd be selfless if she decides to leave the new timeline as it is so that he'd never die and never become Hanako and never meet her. Otherwise, it'd be selfish if she still wants Hanako back and decides to restore the timeline. Because it means that she'd need to take away the life that he deserved to live, just for the sake of getting Hanako back with her. And honestly if you think of the logic which one is more rational? Even if she gets Hanako back, that doesn't change their circumstances. He'd still be a ghost and she'd still be a human with a very close deadline. Either way they're doomed!

Needless to say, I'd still support Nene whatever she chooses. If she wants to sacrifice her feelings for his sake, you go girl! Because that's a really Yashiro Nene thing to do. But if she wants to be stubborn and still bring back the old timeline, YOU GO GIRL! Because I think that it's still a very Yashiro Nene thing to do, just a little more selfish because she loves Hanako now :3c Love is about being selfish and selfless, and I love the fact that we can see it very clearly in HanaNene!

Yugi-sensei also seems a little suspicious in this timeline, if he turns out to have bad intentions and Nene knows about it, that might be an encouragement for her to bring the old timeline back, but who knows? I'm so excited to see what's gonna happen next.

Anyways I think that's all :3!! Sorry I got sidetracked a lot I just have soooo much to say and I'm really loving the angst potential in this new arc. Thanks again for the ask anon you made my day 💗

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Okay I realized a scene I love comes up in the fic on this chapter, so I was like "well, I'm not doing anything right now, why not write it?"

So I wrote it. Enjoy.

(This one has description of some gore and aftermath of torture, very short segments, not worse than was already in the fic)

Ghost woke up slowly, the slick residue of his nightmares fading away as he lifted his head and groaned. Soap had already woken up, and by the chipper way he moved around the room, a while ago.

The Sergeant is getting better at telling when he’s being stared at, and he turns around to raise an eyebrow at Ghost.

“Sleepin’ beauty is finally awake!” he says with a smile.

Ghost drags a hand under his mask, sighing, “time’s it?”

“500 sharp, sir” Soap provides happily.

The fuck’s kinda person is this cheerful at this hour? Ghost exhales loudly and finally gets out of bed. The Sergeant opens his mouth, to probably comment on his old man habits, but Ghost shoots him a stare that would’ve killed a lesser man.

Soap just gives him a shit eating grin in return, “not a morning person?”

Ghost walks towards the bathroom, “I’m a normal person, you’re the fuckin’ anomaly.”

The Scot barks a loud laugh that makes him feel a little less groggy.

At mess, the taskforce finds a table of their own, and the Sergeants busy themselves with an argument about one daft thing or another. 

Price caught his attention and started speaking to him in his mind, “your nightmares are bloody loud sometimes, y’know that?”

Ghost bites on his toast, “don’t fuckin’ listen then.”

The Captain laughs a little before his features turn serious, “you wanna tell me how much of what the Reaper said in your dream actually happened?”

That’s what he dreamt about that last night? Fucking hell. Can’t keep secrets from Price.

“Won’t have to if you just told me, Simon.”

Ghost puts down his meal to stare intently at the Captain, “what did you see? In my dream.”

Price’s moustache twitched in thought, and he replied, “it said something about Soap bringing your demise?”

“It said ‘bringer of demise’, didn’t fuckin’ specify whose.” Ghost spat back.

“What else?”

Before he could stop him, he felt Price pull the memory to the forefront of his mind to watch for himself what unfolded on the plane that day.

“It told you to stay away from Soap if you wanna live?!”

Ghost banged his fist on the table, startling the Sergeants out of their idiotic bickering. He paid no mind to them, focus fully on Price, “I’m not going to stop working with the Sergeant just because my Reaper decided to be a little shit.” he snarls in the Captain’s head.

Price huffs, “I’m not going to let you die Ghost.”

“Did it say I’m going to die?!”

“Simon…”

Gaz cuts their exchange, “what’s going on? Are you two talking in your brains?”

Soap crosses his arms, “well, yer welcome to use your outside voice.”

Ghost gets up, “no need, we’re done.”

Before he can get out of range, Price tells him “keep yourself safe on this mission, Simon. We’ll figure it out later.”

He supposes that’s manageable. 

Ghost and Soap bid their farewells to Gaz and Price, as they go on their own part of the mission, and walk back to the armory to get ready for theirs.

The two of them get dressed up, Ghost armed to the teeth with various throwing knives. He’s not going to use Limbo, not with Soap being right next to him.

And he won’t need to - Ghost is perfectly capable as a fighter with no abilities. There’s a reason the rumors about him as so varied.

Near inhuman in every aspect.

Soap is done before him (less knives, amateur), and now sits to watch Ghost finish up.

A low whistle makes him twist around, “haven’t seen this get-up since the last time we worked together, lookin’ good LT”.

…huh?

“Keep it tactical, Sergeant.” Ghost voices almost mechanically.

“Aye sir, yessir.” Soap gives him an overexaggerated salute.

He rolls his eyes and ignores the warm feeling spreading through his body for the billionth time.

The cartel member’s house appears in the distance after a few minutes of making their way through the wilder parts of Las Almas. Ghost and Soap take out the guards at the front gate and make their way in.

The house is a two storey, drab building, with no real defining features. It’s surrounded by a tall fence, and a smaller shed is stuck by the far left corner of the large yard. 

The suspected location of the kidnapped people is by the far end of the house. They’re tasked with making it inside without alerting any alarms, lest they start killing the people trapped inside.

With the front door clear, the two soldiers open the door and instantly check corners, covering each other’s blind spots.

“Clear.”, Ghost announces.

“Clear.” Soap lowers his silenced pistol a bit, “seems awfully empty, LT. Sure we got the right house?”

“Affirm, stay sharp Sergeant.” Ghost starts forwards, Soap not far behind him.

He feels unnerved. The Sergeant is right, the house is quiet, as though it’s been deserted weeks ago. But a quick look at the amount of dust settled on the floors tells him it couldn’t be more than a few days.

They continue forward, clearing rooms methodically. Ghost has a sense of satisfaction from the act, an enjoyment in working together with Soap besides him for the first time.

They complete each other’s blind spots like puzzle pieces.

Soap declares the first floor clear, barring one last room at the very end of the hallway. Up until then they found several evidences that there were narcos residing here in the past, including a hefty amount of white powder, but they’re not here on a drug bust.

“On me Sergeant”, Ghost orders Soap before pushing the door open.

The scene inside is gruesome. Ghost is intimately familiar with narco torturing techniques, so the bloodied items strewn across the room were an unfriendly sight.

4 bodies lay in the room, and Ghost walks over to check for cartel tattoos on them. One of the bodies has dog tags, and he frowns while pulling it out of the dead man’s shirt.

They read “Thomas Anderson”. Why is that name familiar-

“Sergeant Thomas Anderson, 28. Revenant powers… ‘Breathing underwater?’”

Soap examines the torturing devices with wary eyes, muttering “steamin’ Jesus…” under his breath.

Ghost spots a large tub, filled with reddish water.

Anderson’s body is dry, besides the blood oozing out of his cold body.

The three other men in the room however… Their body is coated with an even amount of thinned blood, from their head down to their chests. They died from drowning.

What is the meaning of this…?

Ghost takes Anderson’s dog tags and stands up, “4 confirmed deaths, no survivors”, he radios in. 

“Copy, exfil inbound in 30, get yourself there.”

They both exit the room, “copy, out here.”

Ghost turns to stand in front of the Sergeant, “one of them was a revenant”, he dangles the tags in front of Soap’s eyes. The date of Reaping is listed right under date of birth, like in their own tags.

Soap frowns, a certain anger washing over him, “what do you think they’re playin’ at?”

“We can chew on that back at base, for now let get to exfil-”

Ghost barely finishes his sentence when he sees Soap’s eyes widen, locked on something behind his shoulder. Half a second later, he’s being spun around, and the piercing sound of bullets fills the air.

Ghost’s heart hammers, and he finally focuses on the view in front of him. Soap’s wide, blue eyes.

And several blotches of red peppered across his torso, spreading quicker than Ghost can process.

“...Soap?” his mind can’t, refuses to make sense of the sight in front of him. Soap isn’t… he can’t be…

The Sergeant’s breaths are erratic, chest rising and falling in big swells. The shock in his eyes transforms, burns away.

Until all that’s left, is rage.

“I’m so sick of this…” Soap murmurs. Shouts in Spanish echo behind them, but Ghost have eyes and ears only for his Sergeant.

Soap lets go of his shoulders, and Ghost scrambles to take him in his arms.

But Soap turns around and walks away, legs shaking and hands burning brighter and brighter by the second. 

One brave narco shoots at his shoulder, making the Scot stagger for a moment.

Ghost lifts an arm, to drag Soap back to him, to cover him from anyone who ever harmed him, to do something, anything.

But Soap unleashes a terrifying snarl and launches forward, grabbing at the narcos.

The explosions blind Ghost, screams and horrible sounds of metal creaking to the breaking point and bones snapping deafening him.

Soap whirls in the middle of this firestorm, exploding guns, heads, walls, anything in his path.

Ghost’s eyes water from the amount of dust and smoke that fills the air.

His Sergeant is radiant.

“Soap…” Ghost tries to stop the unstoppable. He just wants Soap to rest.

“Johnny…..” 

Soap finally stills, carnage creating a halo around him, and all Ghost sees is the red on his clothes, the wheezing of his breath.  

Ghost takes a step forward, and Soap collapses on his knees.

He rushes to grab him by the shoulders before he can fall further, “you’re fine Johnny, you’re going to be fine.” he sputters, pushing his Sergeant up to look at the wounds.

So many wounds.

He knows no one can survive this. Not even revenants. 

“LT…” Soap whispers, voice weak and wobbly.

“You’re going to be alright, you…” air leaves his lungs without a sound. He can’t breathe. How can he?

How can he breathe when Soap lifts a trembling hand, the gentle warmth of flames licking at Ghost’s nape, and looks at him like that?

“LT… I’m not gonna-”

They both jump at the sound of car tires getting closer. The narcos called for backup…

Ghost can’t breathe. He watches Soap shivers in front of him.

He doesn’t have a choice. 

Ghost takes Soap in his arms, hand on his nape mirroring his Sergeant, and presses his head to his own shoulder.

“Close your eyes, Johnny. It will all be over soon.”

He can hear Soap gasp, can feel his chest stuttering.

Ghost closes his eyes the moment footsteps enter the house.

Limbo courses out of him, darkness and emptiness and void filling the house, the residents of it screaming, snarling to take a bite at the intruders.

He holds Soap tight, pressing himself as close as he can. The protective wisps of light barely cover them both, but he will not let Soap be taken by Limbo.

Not Soap. Not Johnny.

In the next blink, Limbo is gone. The victims of the void quiet, as if they also mourn along Ghost.

Johnny pushes lightly at his chest, and Ghost separates them to look him in the eyes.

He seemed to try to form a sentence before a series of coughs wrecked his body, so Ghost laid him down on the blood-covered floor.

“G-Ghost”, he utters through clenched teeth, “d’ye… d’ye know how guns work?”

Ghost’s heart crushes at the sound of his Sergeants voice. He’s… not making sense anymore. Blood delirium isn’t unheard of… especially… especially with how much he-

“Yes”, Ghost softly whispers, more gentle than he ever learned to be.

“T-tell me”, Soap winces when more pain makes its way through his system.

Ghost wants to wither away with him. “The bullet goes into the chamber… and the primer is ignited to cause a small exp-”

His world stops completely.

“T-Teh cause a small ex-explosion.” Soap finishes slowly.

Johnny is…

“I’m not gonna d-die, LT”

Ghost’s eyes slide away from Soap’s, to the rest of his body. He slowly lifts his Sergeant’s shirt, to reveal multiple bullet holes where the tac vest didn’t cover him.

Bullet holes that are already closing.

Ghost wanted to scream out of joy, wail in premature unwarranted grief, shout at Soap for not telling him earlier.

But the radio informs them exfil is 10 minutes out, and they need to get a move on if they want to arrive in time.

Ghost slides his hands under Soap’s body, blood soaking his gloves in a way that takes him back 8 months ago. Back when it was different.

Soap grasps him like he’ll fall if he doesn’t.

Different, yet also the same.

The walk to exfil is quiet, save for Soap’s harsh breathing. Healing or not, he still feels pain.

The driver of their exfil car looks horrified at their shared state, but neither give an explanation and take a sit at the back of the car. It’s only after a few moments of nothing that Ghost mutters, “drive” to the Vaquero.

He feels numb, his arms and legs limp, gaze forward, but nothing truly passes through his brain.

Soap shifts beside him, letting out grunts of pain every once in a while. Making it obvious, despite what his heart tells him, that he’s very much alive.

The blood seeping under his fingernails feels freezing.

The Vaquero was at a loss of what to do with them once the car reaches the base. Ghost shuts the door loudly, and with it the connection to his heart.

Lieutenant first, human last.

“Where is medical?” He asks the man.

Ghost carries Soap all the way to the nurse’s hands, where he was stopped and told he had to clean up if he wanted to stay any longer. He wanted to scream infection doesn’t matter when the wounds will close in the matter of minutes, but the look on the nurse told him she wasn’t impressed.

He left medical to drag himself to the showers, energy left behind him with every step. 

Showers are usually a short ordeal for him, as efficient as they come. But Johnny’s blood going down the drain made him linger.

30 or so minutes later he comes out, and for the first time in what feels like hours there's  something in his brain, besides numbness.

It’s Price. Him and Gaz returned.

The voice in his mind sounds concerned, imploring him to explain why everything looks so dull there.

Ghost ignores it and goes to find his teammates.

“Ghost” Price greets, Gaz perks up from his previous position, head held in his hands. “Where’s the Sergeant?”

Ghost nods back at the hallway, “medical.” is all he provides.

Garrick startles, “Was he injured? What happened?”

“Flanked.” Ghost says, voice matching the emptiness in his head, “got shot.”

“Shot?! Fuck, where-”

“He’s immune.” Ghost cuts him off.

Gaz becomes confused, “immune?”

“To bullets. Primer ignition counts as explosion.” 

The Sergeant sits back down, body slackening, “thank fuck…”

Price catches ghost’s eye contact, “but you didn’t know that.”

Ghost just… shrugs.

“Fucking hell…” the Captain looks away, “it was one of the redacted details in his file…”

Gaz frowns, “why would they redact that?”

“Reapers know.”

The next couple of hours zoom past Ghost. His teammates try to coax him out of his unfeeling self, but Ghost isn’t truly in base.

His mind is stuck in a cartel house, in the Las Almas wilderness. On bloody and soot covered floor, with a dying man in his arms.

On eyes, shining with burning rage.

Pain! Pain! Pain! All I'm making Ghost feel is pain!

[jessicas-pi]

DIRECTOR'S CUT ON COMMIT TO THE BIT but only like the first two chapters i am so far behind 😭

girl I wish I had been as productive as you think i've been 😭 there's only two chapters so far-

(But, hey, good news! Chapter three is verging ever closer to probably being done! And it's only taken me about... eight months... hahaha *dies on the inside*)

Anyway, i'll do what I did with the other ask and just go through it and talk about stuff!

Okay, so this fic was originally called "The Con" because it involved winning a lot more bets via subterfuge and holding hands. That changed and so I renamed it!

Oh yeah! And so, this fic was partly inspired by the song Summer Nights from Grease, where the guys and girls are enthusiastically listening to completely different stories of the same event. I flipped it around so they had completely different reactions to the same story and Sabine and Ezra were very UNenthusiastic and that was what the scenes with their friends were based on!

Aylan (the vostress kid) definitely heard some obitine stories from his dad and finds the parallels very amusing.

I know i've said it a few times before, but it always delights me to mention that the three Togruta sisters (Chisica, Am-lee, and Khenna) are based on me and my sisters.

OHHH fun fact! Originally the conversation where they split up the profits from the bet and the conversation where Sabine brought up fake-dating were two different conversations! The first one was as-is in the fic, but the other one happened like a week later when Sabine was hanging out in a tree coral with some of the girls and watching Ezra doing lightsaber forms and maybe drawing him shirtless a little bit and they hype her up to "ask him out again" and she goes over and interrupts him and they end up having the fake-dating idea conversation while he's not wearing a shirt and she's blatantly checking him out (and at one point actually half-reaches-out to touch his abs before she catches herself) and he's just "????" the whole time. It was funny, but I decided it was too early in the (fake) relationship for her to be so obvious about it, and I needed Fenn Rau to overhear the conversation and that was easier if they were on the Ghost, so I combined the scenes.

Oh also! Originally, both Vinn AND Tarik were gonna get kicked out of the friend group for being nasty but then I decided to make Tarik less nasty and give him a redemption arc.

ok, reading on, la de da...

The post-stargazing scene! So, I had to keep dialing things back because my shippy writer brain was moving their relationship ahead WAY faster than it was supposed to go. For example, in this scene, originally, they were going to share Sabine's bunk and definitely not cuddle or anything, it won't be weird at all, but again--just too soon. I made up for it with excessive cuddles in the end of the chapter & in chapter 2.

KATKA CAMEO!! Ok so for those who don't know---katka is an OC from my Teenage Rebellion AU. She's Gar Saxon's niece but she's utter sweetness (with a slight twist of crazy) and totally on board to stick it to the Empire. In the TRAU, she also has a massive raging crush on Ezra (albeit an Inquisitor iteration of him), so when I needed a random character to be envious of Sabine here, I figured I'd reuse her lol.

Oh yeah! Another condensed scene! Where she tells him about the Mandalorian ways of saying "I love you" and where she asks him to fake marry her used to be two different scenes! Like with the other one, I added the second one to the first. I went through a few versions of the fake-marriage-proposal, including one where Aylan came along with Ezra to Mandalore and was the one to suggest they tie the knot, apparently unaware it's all fake (but actually 100% aware it's all fake because his psychometry revealed it)

not to brag or anything but "Ezra did not regret fake-marrying into money" is one of my favorite lines i've ever written.

(btw, I still crack up when I remember that in your comment on chapter 1, you called Ezra a repressed victorian maiden for panicking over being able to see sabine's arms and legs. and I think everyone should know that You Are Right, Ezra Is A Repressed Victorian Maiden.)

OK ON TO CHAPTER 2!

i had so much fun with this chapter because they're both full to bursting with love for each other and neither of them will admit it until the last possible moment. I think that might actually be why Chapter 3 is taking so long--they're not hiding their feelings anymore so there's no more poetic internal monologues about how much they adore each other lol

Ah yeah on the topic of repressed feelings--the line "Kanan is fairly sure it’ll take at least five years and possibly a child for Sabine to admit that she’s actually in love with her husband" was supposed to actually be what happened. Sabine and Ezra were going to go on pretending the marriage was fake for years and finally one night when they were cuddled up, Sabine blurted out that she was in love with him and he was like "Yeah. I know." and she was like "wait what?? how did you know?? I was so subtle about my feelings!!" and he was like "Sabine, you kissed me good-night ten minutes ago. you're constantly calling me extremely romantic pet names in mando'a. we have two children and only one of them is adopted. your feelings are about as subtle as a paint bomb to the face." and she was just like "....oh." and then that was the end of the story! BUUUUT then I decided to do a love confession during the Lothal arc, and that led to the... surprise... at the end of chapter 2, which led to there needing to be a THIRD chapter!

OH HAHA OK MORE FUNNY STUFF. So the part with sabine's nightmare that leads to the "two besties chilling in a bathtub...?" scene was ALSO split up into two different events! I've been thinking about doing some edits of both chapters of CttB because I didn't really stop to edit either of them before posting (and a good chunk of chapter 2 was literally written the day before I posted it), which I mention because I was considering reverting the two scenes back to their original versions because the og tub scene was pretty funny. It's hard to describe in brief words, but basically... yeah it's too hard to describe, just take my word for it, it was pretty funny. (it involved Ezra singing along to We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together with a shampoo bottle for a microphone and Tristan playing a petty revenge prank that goes sideways.)

The cut between Ezra worrying about Sabine being upset about his feelings for her and thinking "what would she think if she knew??", and sabine's pov opening with "Sabine can't stop thinking about kissing his stupid face" never fails to make me snicker.

Oh hey I just got to the thrawn pov and that reminds me. at one point I was thinking about having a scene including Ezra and Thrawn's conversation aboard the Chimaera and thrawn REAAAALLLY pushes his buttons about Sabine, using the information that he figured out about their marriage. Actually, if I do that edit, I might write that scene.

Poor Hera--she keeps unintentionally being responsible for all of the sabezra relationship development lol.

OOH SOMETHING ELSE! So, originally, the love confession was WAY different. First of all, it wasn't in their room--it was in one of the caves. Sabine still went looking for Ezra, but she found him by following a Loth-wolf. And he actually confessed his feelings first! In this version, he was afraid he was going to die and impulsively blurted out that he loved her. Then he got nervous and started rambling a little and she shut him up with a kiss. But I changed it--I wanted her to be the one to take the leap and 'fess up, and if I set it in her room, I could have the funny Ketsu scene afterwards.

And then True Love's Kiss woke someone else up! (aka kanan got yoinked out of his comatose state by telepathic TMI)

oh yeah and to anyone wondering, that "another dawn breaks" line from the Kanera scene was ABSOLUTELY a reference to A New Dawn.

Oh and that Ketsu scene---that was actually a scene I saved and reused after cutting it from a different WIP of mine! There were two variations--the one I ended up using, and one where she accidentally interrupts the very first kiss and they're both like "OH COME ON!" because they've been waiting for this moment FOREVER and like ten seconds in, it gets interrupted, and Ezra decides that, darn it, he's been waiting for this for so long, he's not going to wait any longer! and he just pulls Sabine right back into the kiss and uses the Force to shut the door in Ketsu's face. I did this version so that I could include dialogue!

I'm just now realizing that I actually skipped over the entirety of Family Reunion and Farewell, I went straight from Jedi Night to Happy-Ever-After. But in my defense, plot-relevant episodes don't matter much when it comes to crack fix-it fics.

And... I think that's all my thoughts I have on this! Thank you for the ask!! :)

*roll end credits*

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Uneggpected Development

Honestly it was hard to know where to start so let's start with Silly Boy and his silly face interacting with Robonosuke. Yes of course I'm going to keep calling him that but don't worry, we'll get to the actual heavy Wano callbacks later. This is a weird chapter...because it feels like we're hurtling swiftly towards an ending to Egghead now. Our giant robot friendo is a big part of that.

As we're blasting off the big robo seems to be gearing up for a huge attack. Maybe a self-destruction. A concept echoed nowhere else in this chapter and certainly not anywhere recently. But you do have this moment that reminds me of Zunisha. Luffy hearing what is likely the Voice of All Things emanating from Robonosuke. Dude is finally ready to rock and roll, looks like it'll time out well with the final notes of the broadcast. You'll see this theme pop up again here, I really want to see the next note before I think too heavily about that but we'll have a lot more to talk about that through the lens of...

Atlas pulls a move we've seen out of other Vegapunks before and seems set to become yet another casualty of this arc. I don't care too much about that for this review, not because I don't like it but because of what Atlas does first. Slamming Lilith into the deck and turning off some kind of tracking device York was using. Which...type of thing that would have been nice to come up at some point earlier but I'll give at least a chapter or two to see if there's like, a reason they didn't do that earlier.

It's obviously Lilith I care about. We could move very quickly out of here into the next arc. Like, you could literally do it in one chapter. Robonosuke go boom cutting off Vegpaunk from giving too much of a reveal, Coup de Burst off into the sunset, cue the newspapers. Lilith is hanging around for whatever reason as a tie to the next. Lilith even can relatively quickly become an off-ramp for what I've seen winding out of Wano through Vivi, Bonney, & Stussy this arc. She was a first impression of the arc too, even had some little quirks with that building off of Kiku last arc who did the same with Pudding who did the same with Rebecca. Speaking of though, pay attention to the title.

Two problems. One that leaves a lot untied. Like, much more than Wano. I suppose you could fill in a bunch of stuff after the exit about Lilith, but the reason that idea ever worked at all for Kiku was because of her personality. Stussy's someone who can believably pull that too, we even just saw her do something like that with her talking to Kaku. Lilith is like, the opposite of mysterious. There was nothing like a mini arc introducing you as cryptic and guarded or juggling loyalties all Egghead. York was the one who played really well into that aspect of things. Lilith is even after Atlas right here giving you the self-sacrifice and how about that light/dark framing with the different expressions up there!

Two, as it stands now there's still no real "point" to the story. This is all literally happening while Vegapunk Prime dumps everything he knows about the big lore, of course he isn't going to get too close because that's Robin's story. So I doubt Lilith has some extra info to add. And of course...a lot of things have flared up for a couple of chapters and faded as quickly as they did. I don't think we're too far from the end, but I still have that feeling this is a little misleading. There was one last aspect of this chapter that makes me wonder about just a little more getting us there:

It's the combination of Clover's denial of his name to survive as well as this late-game Punk Hazard flashback. It all feels so, so Kaido all of a sudden. Maybe it helps or hurts that I'm watching through dub Wano's end with sweetie but this scene feels like such a blend of Kaido, King, & Momonosuke right now. Which is a really weird discordant note. And one that casts that shadow over Vegapunk again.

That's actually the big thing to me. The broadcast has crackled but now its coming to an end. Watch the next few chapters closely. Egghead could end in the next chapter or two, but I wouldn't be shocked if it had another volume in it to get a little weird.

[kayas-obsession]

My nosy ass went to antigwynriel tag and when I tell you the things I read. It is absolutely amazing how ignorant people can be when they are biased.

I guess, although, the same thing can be said for me.

So hear me out.

Gwyn and Azriel are not in love.

There.

Okay.

I know it, you know it, the entire ACOTAR fandom knows it.

It’s not what they have now we are focused on it’s what they could have or more importantly what it could grow into.

It’s funny how Elriel’s point out that Gwyn was a distraction and nothing more because he was commanded to not court Elain.

And???

Feyre told she wanted Rhys as a distraction at first too but it wasn’t the case, was it.

And if you guys are arguing about his POV, how he was too polite to leave the ring because Gwyn saw him already. Helloooo????

"Happy Solstice," she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.

He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?"

He could’ve just left. But oh wait, he didn’t.

And him not caring about Gwyn being in the blood rite and going to save Eris. Let me ask you, could he go even if he wanted to? When even Cassian couldn’t? And Gwyn and Azriel wasn’t anywhere near as close as Elain and Azriel were when he saved her from Hybern.

And not to mention it’s a rule to not interfere in the rite as it can get them killed.

Were we not reading the same book???

And it’s not that he didn’t care. When Nesta was mentioned there was no reaction but when Gwyn’s name was mentioned, he did show concern.

“There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.”

The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.”

And for people saying she is a light singer because she did a high pitched scream next to Azriel one time because it caught his attention.

Crack. I tell you. Absolute no logic.

Also, his shadows did not dance around her but reached out to her breath. Okay. Then. What. Is. This.

“Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?”

Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.”

Another thing they pointed out was how sour Azriel’s mood was the next day of the solstice, given how his night was supposed to go after meeting Gwyn, shouldn’t he have been happy.

That’s what I’m telling you!! They are not in love at that moment!

Was Feyre in love with Rhys when him and her were under the mountain? No. She despised him. Was she in love with him when he brought her to the Night court? Yes, of course not. But it’s what all build up to the climax of their relation.

How the relationship started.

I repeat in case Elriels are confused. They are not in love!

But you know what did happen the next day after Elain and him didn’t kiss?

His smiled thinking of Gwyn and picturing her joy on receiving the necklace. But ofc that they overlook because it’s a “bonus” scene but jump to the scene of Elain and Azriel about to kiss cause it sails their boat.

Some argue that bonus chapters shouldn’t matter. Um, okay so the near kiss didn’t happen either I guess.

Keep your 4 book buildup of ambiguous relation for all we care.

If 4 books couldn’t help Elriel move their relation up to a simple kiss. Idk what really can.

Maybe your “let’s tear down a perfectly solid character” will help keep the ship sailing.