#they always end up on the same side because they have to be.

[moondirti]

soap goes to the gym in nothing but a muscle tank and a pair of old, worn shorts. it’s the same articles of clothing every time, too. like he has nothing better to wear than the ratty combo, and nothing better to do than taunt you with just how exposed it leaves him.

maybe a case could be made for the shirt. the armholes have gotten stretched with time, you see, and he says that’s good for mobility — even if it does give you an eyeful of side-pec the second he raises his arms. which is fine, you suppose. there’s nothing new about a thick chest carpeted in coarse, curly hair. or about muscled lines that cut down to a man’s armpits, his biceps the size of your head, or the vulgar breadth of his neck when he tenses on the pulley machine. even if it does leave you a little bit dizzy. it certainly isn’t the worst thing in the world.

definitely not the worst thing about his whole getup.

because the shorts are loose too. made of a sweat-wicking material and fitted for aerobic sports. you don’t think he knows that, and if he did, you don’t think he’d care. he prefers the airflow, or so he says. likes the way it keeps him cool while he works up a sweat. you’d be inclined to let it pass, if it weren’t for the fact that he forgoes boxers, too.

and it’s no secret. it must be thick, you think, fat and heavy if it makes such a prominent silhouette even while soft. you catch flashes of it through his leg holes sometimes. from a few feet away, on a water break while he straddles and lays back down on a bench. dark and folded against a burly thigh, trapped between fabric and muscle like it’s straining to escape. or when he’s on the leg press, and deigns to tuck it up behind his loose waistband to get it out of the way; you’ll get a glimpse of the flushed tip of it, always glistening, like he’s perpetually primed for something. perhaps it’s the endorphins that get him so worked up. he fits the mould of one of those freaks.

still. it’s… harder to ignore.

and when you’d once waited to get home before taking your showers, his terrible propensity for exhibitionism almost always ends up with you in the gym’s communal ones, working up a new kind of sweat. cold water beating down your back, hair matted to your forehead, hand shamefully tucked between your legs. biting your lip hard enough to taste blood. you never draw it out, and always cum in a guilty finish, like the world might catch on to your gross, voyeuristic habit.

it’s on one of those days that you walk out of the shower to find johnny — grinning, sweaty, waiting — and realise that it wasn’t the world you should’ve been worried about listening in, but him.

[ssour-apathyy]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ fangs and forgiveness (caitvi x fem!reader)

vampire!vi x vampire!caitlyn x vampire hunter! reader, detailed descriptions of violence, blood, fighting, death (not reader or caitvi), use of y/n, reader is referred to as daughter

word count; 3,949

summary; as a vampire hunter hot on the trail of your latest catch, you meet two "monsters" who change your world view forever

a/n; i think that i mayhaps got a little carried away with this one LMAO. thank you to the anon who made this request, i had a lot of fun writing this one. sorry if the ending feels a little rushed, i had no idea how to put it WITHOUT turning it into an even longer mess

The ground was cold and damp against your skin. The harsh asphalt rubbing through your aged jeans where you sat, stoking the makeshift fire in front of you.

In the distance, you could see the small hamlet that you had been sent to investigate. A quaint, isolated place with a population of less than 100, dwindling as of late. People were disappearing, only to turn up again a few days later in some back alley as nothing but skin wrapped around bones, without a drop of blood in their bodies.

A vampire, naturally.

It was nothing new to you, having been in the game for years. Your father and his father, and so-on and so-forth, had all been vampire hunters. It was a tradition supposed to be carried on by the men in your bloodline, but you had so graciously thrown a spanner into the works when your mother had given birth to a girl.

You had a chip on your shoulder and something to prove. So, if nothing more than to spite the man who said you couldn't, you became the most decorated hunter in your family's history. A shelf within your home lined with large glass jars, each filled to the neck with fangs. One fang from every vampire you cleansed from the earth, as physical evidence of your successes.

Even then, it wasn't good enough. You were acutely aware that nothing you did would be good enough for him, for the simple fact that it wasn't a son. But still, you persisted, because you refused to give him the satisfaction of actually ruining the tradition.

So here you sat, on the ground that had recently been rained on, in the damp dark of the night air, waiting. The routine was always the same. Never, ever, enter the settlement at night. Wait, and watch. And once the vampire makes its move, as will you.

── ⟢

It will never cease to surprise you how loud a human can actually scream. The second that the shrill sound echoes over the surrounding land, you're up and moving.

You close your eyes, take a breath, and let your ears guide you. Accustomed to the tell-tell sounds; the snap of bones, the tear of skin and the suckling of the blood leaving their body, it's no time at all before you find yourself peering around the corner of a house to gaze upon the monster you're hunting.

With another steadying breath, you reach inside of your coat to grip the wooden stake tightly, slowly advancing towards the creature. It stills, waiting for a moment before detaching its mouth from the victim and unceremoniously dropping them to the floor with a squelch. It slowly turns its head, snarling at you over its shoulder.

In a blink and you'll miss it moment, it lunges. You drop to the floor and roll to the side, avoiding the vampire with expertise as you spring back up, fingers tightening around the stake as you drive it forward towards the creature's chest.

Too slow.

Clawed fingers seize your wrist and twist hard, causing white hot pain to flare up your arm as the stake clatters to the ground. Before you can think, it slams you into the wall of the house, the bricks crumbling as the impact steals the breath from your lungs. Its claws move to grasp your jaw, pressing you further into the building with a snarl— flashing its fangs as it leans in, rancid breath hot against your face.

Your free hand slips a smaller stake from your sleeve, and you drive the tip into the chest cavity. It stumbles backwards, releasing its hold on you as you drop to the floor with a sharp gasp. It looks down at the small stick poking out of its body, and grasps onto it with both hands, slowly removing the wood.

It's a small distraction, but it's enough for you to unbutton the sheath on your thigh and grasp your machete, the silver blade glinting in the moonlight. As the wood clatters to the ground and the creature looks up at you, you swing.

The sound of your sharp, shallow pants is all that fills your ears as you watch the headless creature slump over in front of you. You take the moment to compose yourself before you wipe the blade clean on your leg, slipping it back into it's sheath.

The head had landed by a nearby shrub, and you collect it by holding onto one of the pointy ears, carrying it back over to the body. Propping it up against your thigh and holding it in place with your hand, you retrieve the pliers that you keep in a small pouch on your belt. Lifting the upper lip reveals the monster's most prized asset, and the jagged grips of the tool slots over the fang perfectly. With a grunt, you twist and pull, freeing it with a pop.

"Oof, that's gotta hurt."

The head drops to the floor with a thud as you whip around to where the voice came from, quickly slipping both the fang and the pliers back into your pouch. As your gaze settles on two women peeking around the wall of another nearby house, you squint.

Even in the dark of the night, you can see the un-natural red hue of their eyes, and your hand settles on the handle of your machete once again.

The shorter one, who likely realises she gave away their position, winces as she sees they've been spotted. The taller of the two steps out from their hiding spot, eyes dragging over you slowly. "You're hurt" she says matter-of-factly as her gaze settles on your arm, the blood dripping from your fingertips steadily.

"Don't think for a second that gives you an advantage" you retort, voice tight. In all honesty, alarm bells are ringing in your head. Your injured arm is too weak to help, you're still winded from the impact against the wall, and there's two of them. You have no chance of getting out of this, but you've been raised better than to back down.

She raised her hands up, palms facing towards you in surrender, as she takes a tiny step forward. "Relax. We don't want to hurt you, right Vi?"

The other one — Vi — slowly steps out from around the corner, mimicking the blue haired girl's body language as she joins her. "Right. We aren't like he was" she states, tilting her head towards the twist of limbs in front of you. "We don't hurt humans."

You scoff, the action causing the lack of air to catch in your throat and send you into a coughing fit. It's shallow and wheezy, and you curse yourself for showing weakness. "Bullshit—" you grit out between clenched teeth, grip tightening on the handle of the blade. "Goes against your nature."

"Maybe—" the taller one starts, voice as calm as a lake. "But something tells me standing here and talking to us, rather than swinging that blade, is against yours."

You don't reply, don't move a muscle as your eyes flit between the two. They don't look like any other vampires you've seen before. Almost too—

Human.

And she did have you there, you must admit. Any other time you would be swinging by now, for better or for worse. But something about them is stopping you.

"You're hurt" she repeats, her voice stressing the point as she takes yet another step towards you. "We can help you, if you'll let us."

Your father's voice is screaming at you from inside your skull.

Swing! Swing, you silly, silly girl! They are not for this earth!

The burning in your arm, and your lungs, and your lower back wins out — however — and you let go of your weapon, shoulders slumping as you release your breath. You take one step towards them before the pain and the blood loss catch up to you, and you crumple to the floor face first.

Vi is by your side in an instant, wrapping strong arms under your own to haul you up to your feet. She adjusts, slinging one arm around your back as she moves your injured one to lay across her own shoulders, encouraging you to lean on her as she takes a step towards the taller girl.

"Wait—" you gasp out, causing her to freeze. With a shaky hand you reach into your pocket, pulling out a small box of matches. You hold one between your teeth momentarily as you close the box and twist it around to the rough side. With one hand you strike the match and flick it onto the corpse beside you, the roaring flames engulfing the body to ensure that there's no coming back for the creature.

── ⟢

They had brought you to a run-down wooden cabin that was on the outskirts of the back side of the hamlet, abandoned. As Vi assisted you to sit down on the beaten-up couch, the taller girl got to work drawing any curtains and blocking all windows to ensure the coming sunlight wouldn't enter the building.

You hissed as Vi placed you down, cradling your injured arm against your chest protectively.

"M'gonna need to take this off you. That okay?" she asked carefully, grasping the edge of your jacket. Her voice was hushed, gentle, as if speaking any louder would cause you more pain.

You squinted up at her, still clinging on to the deep-seated apprehension that was tugging the back of your brain. Even if you were in pain, even if they hadn't hurt you— yet, you were still wary that they were technically your enemy and this whole thing could just be an elaborate game.

Your gaze caught her own, and her wide-eyed and questioning expression made you feel like, even if it's for a fleeting moment, that you were safe here. Begrudgingly, you nodded.

Vi gave you a small smile and an affirmative nod, and carefully moved to help you out of the heavy outerwear. You grunted as you leaned forward, your body stiff and back screaming from the earlier impact, and she was quick to slip the material down your shoulders and remove your good arm from its sleeve. Your injured arm proved a little more difficult, as it was stuck to your exposed flesh. Your eyes bore into the site before flicking up to Vi's, and you knew what she was thinking.

You gave her a nod, took a deep inhale and grit your teeth. "Do it."

If your jaw wasn't aching from the prior fight, it sure as hell was aching from how hard you tensed it now. In one swift movement, Vi tugged the sleeve down your arm and away, small slithers of material popping out of where they had embedded themselves in your arm. You refused to scream, to show that kind of weakness in front of anybody, but a strangled groan still managed to tear its way from your throat.

"Caitlyn!" Vi shouted to the other girl, who was elsewhere in the cabin. "We really need medical stuff here, it's worse than it looked!"

The monster's claws had shredded your forearm, skin torn and ripped like it were paper. If you looked really closely — which you didn't, not wanting to risk your dinner coming back up — you swear that you could see tendons.

"It will buy us some time, but isn't a permanent fix" the taller girl — Caitlyn as you now know — spoke calmly as she entered the room, her blue hair now tied up and out of her face. "This place isn't exactly full to the brim of live saving materials."

Vi steps to the side as Caitlyn takes her place, dropping the items she's holding onto the cushion beside you as she kneels on the floor in front. The red-haired girl moves away and out of your view, your eyes firmly fixed on the scraps of material and bottles that Caitlyn had set down.

You felt lightheaded, the mix of pain and loss of blood sending your brain fuzzy as you watched Caitlyn pick up the larger bottle and a small cloth from the pile. Soft, cold hands cupped the sides of your face and guided you to look away, carefully manoeuvring your head to lean back against the couch. As your vision moved up, Vi was stood behind you, looking down at you oh so softly. She moved one hand to brush your hair away from your sweaty forehead, a sad smile on her lips.

"This is gonna hurt" was all she said quietly, before a white hot burning pain engulfed your forearm causing you to strain against her with a scream. Her touch was still soft, but firm enough to keep you in place, as you almost immediately passed out.

When you came-to, you were lying down on the couch now, and a small fire was burning away in the cabin's cobbled fireplace. You groggily raised your head, lifting your arm up into your line of sight to take a look at it. It was tightly wrapped with the scraps you had seen earlier, the surrounding skin looking a lot cleaner than it did before. You made a move to sit up, groaning in pain before a hand stopped you.

"Easy, easy." Caitlyn's voice came from above you, her hand against your shoulder softly guiding you back down. "You need to rest, your body's been through a lot."

She moved to perch herself on the edge of the couch, facing you. Her eyes were soft, a tiny hint of a smile gracing her lips. She was nothing like you'd come to know from vampires — neither of them were —and the way that they'd been looking at you made your stomach flip.

"Your wound is clean, and the cloth will act as a temporary bandage, but you will need stitches. Soon." she murmured, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the material of your shirt. You took the moment to study her face, every contour and curve, the way her lips curled as she spoke. As much as you hated to admit, she was truly beautiful.

"Why are you helping me?" you rasp out before you can think about the question. "i've killed so many of your kind. Why not leave me to bleed out, or — I dunno — kill me yourselves?"

"Because that's not who we are" she answered immediately, her voice firm as her eyes locked on your own. "Vi wasn't lying, we don't hurt humans."

You paused for a moment, mind whirling. "Then how-"

"Animals, mostly" Vi chimes in as she enters the room, effortlessly sliding a chair up alongside the couch so she can sit with you, giving both of you a brief smile. "Livestock, when we can get our hands on it. Sometimes, depending on where we are an' how desperate the situation is, we'll hit up a blood bank and sneak a few bags. But never a live person."

It was quiet for a moment, the sound of the wood crackling as it burned filling the room.

"There are more of us, you know." Caitlyn adds. "Those who don't want to hurt you. It's unfortunate that the violent ones are the loudest."

You didn't know what to say. This was so alien to you, so abnormal, that you were struggling to wrap your head around it. There was no way they were telling the truth, right? You had never met a vampire that hadn't wanted to kill you. Although you had never really given them much of a chance, you supposed.

"We'll take you to our commune" Caitlyn said firmly, causing Vi to snap her head towards her.

"Woah, okay, hold on. She's still a hunter, Cait-"

"And she's injured" the taller girl retorted, turning to face her partner with a stern expression. "Even if she did want to wipe us out, which I don't believe she does, you expect her to do so in this state?"

Vi thought for a moment, her expression firm before she sighed, shaking her head. Caitlyn turned back to you, her face softening once again. "We have resources to help you heal. Properly. If you'll let us, that is."

Your throat felt tight, but you swallowed around it. "My name is Y/N, by the way" you murmur. An olive branch.

The two share a look, and then smile softly at you. Branch taken.

── ⟢

The commune was, admittedly, quite breathtaking. Various different buildings, of different sizes and materials, scattered around the land between two large hills. There were trees all around which, combined with the natural landscape, worked well to shelter the sanctuary.

It had been a few days since you had arrived, barely having seen how things operated as Caitlyn had firmly insisted that you rest once your arm was properly seen to. It was currently bandaged and in a sling against your chest, to make sure that you were allowing it to heal. They had given you an extra set of clothes, just a simple pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, whilst somebody worked on getting your ruined ones somewhat presentable again.

Caitlyn was showing you around, showing you the ropes of the small settlement. "Most of the people here were turned against their will" she explained, her voice filled with melancholy. "All of us agreed on one thing though, that we shouldn't have to lose our humanity. Shouldn't have to become monsters." She paused her steps and turned to you, one hand resting on your shoulder.

"I know it might be hard for you to believe, but that's not what we are. The majority of us are just victims of bad circumstances, who are scared and confused and don't know how to control it. That's what this place is for, to offer them a different path."

As you mull over Caitlyn's words, you glance over at Vi in the distance. She's knelt down in the grass, surrounded by 3 or 4 kids, teaching them how to properly drink from some rabbits. You had never seen vampire children before, and the picture following from Caitlyn's prior words made your gut twist.

Not allowing yourself to sit with the thought for too long, you couldn't help but settle your gaze on the short haired girl. The softness of the interaction and the way that she was so gentle with them, paired with the way that the moonlight was painting her in an almost ethereal light, caused your heart to stutter in your chest. Not that you could have noticed but from beside you, Caitlyn was looking at you the same way.

She showed you around some more, taking you to the small paddock that the settlement had, explaining how they were breeding their own livestock so that they didn't have to take so much from the humans. The more you saw, the more your feelings shifted. The more you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, they were right. That being a monster is not their nature, but something that they choose to be, willingly or not.

You stay a few more days, helping out with things where you can before either Cait or Vi catch you and guide you back to rest. When your arm is finally healed enough that you wouldn't need to be supervised, you were handed back your clothes.

You stood in front of the two girls inside their home, the fabrics bundled in your arms. "It... it doesn't feel right—" you mumble, shaking your head a little. "putting these back on. Going back to... that."

It wasn't a lie. Nothing about hunting vampires felt anywhere near acceptible after the time that you've spent in the sanctuary, after you've seen them as a mirror reflection of humanity. But that wasn't the main reason for your apprehension.

Truth be told, you had grown fond of the pair. The way they had helped you, had looked after you so gently. The way they were when helping those in need, providing assistance wherever necessary. All of it had you feeling things you'd never felt before, let alone for two people at once.

You were falling in love with them, and there was no way that you could deny it to yourself.

"Then don't." Vi spoke, voice firm enough to cause you to raise your head. There was a small, fleeting look of worry in her eyes, like you would slip away at any moment. "Don't go. Stay."

She took a tentative step forward, her eyes roaming over your face to gauge your expression as she did. Your eyes flicked up to Caitlyn, who gave you a smile and a nod, coming to stand just behind Vi. The shorter girl reached up to cup your jaw, her thumb softly grazing over your cheek bone.

The sound of the clothes you were holding hitting the floor with a soft thud was barely registered before you surged up, wrapping your arms around her neck and pressing your lips to hers. Vi took a small step back but didn't falter, kissing you back firmly as her free hand slid to your back so she could press you impossibly closer.

It was as if time had slowed to a stop, and you swear that Vi was kissing you for hours. Your breath was coming out in short pants as she reluctantly pulled away, giving a soft chuckle as you tried to chase her lips. You hadn't even managed to open your eyes as Caitlyn stepped forward, lifting your chin with her pointer finger before capturing your bottom lip between her own.

Kissing both of them was very different. Vi was impatient and greedy, kissing you like there were minutes left to live and she was adamant to die with your tongue against hers. Caitlyn was more refined, slower and more controlled. Both of them made your head spin deliciously.

You slowly blinked your eyes open as Cait pulled away, looking at the pair in front of you with a dazed expression that slowly morphed into a shit eating grin. Caitlyn giggled at that, and Vi let out a soft laugh too, and before long the three of you were stood together chuckling amongst yourselves.

The two vampires each took one of your hands in their own, interlocking your fingers as they shared a look, making sure they were on the same page. They intertwined their free hands together, the three of you molding to one another so perfectly, like a puzzle that was finally complete.

── ⟢

The three of you stood out in the street, looking down at the pile in front of you. Your hunter's clothes and gear, all the little pouches and gadgets and importantly, your machete, laying out on the hard ground. You took a step forward, twirling the match box in your hands as you took a moment to reflect.

Your father would be so disappointed.

With that thought, you took a match and struck it, wasting no time in throwing it onto the pile and watching the flames engulf your possessions.

The two vampires took a step forward, each wrapping an arm around your waist and cuddling into you, both pressing a kiss to your temples. You leaned into their touch, closing your eyes for a moment to bask in the glow of not only the fire but also their affection.

You stood there and watched as the flames consumed everything you had thought you'd known. The fire burned bright, the light from the flames dancing across your faces, painting the three of you in a new light.

[wttcsms]

re: this post.

thinking about idol!reader who's a part of the nation's fastest rising girl groups. your group is reaching international levels of recognition, and your agency is running a tight ship. you all have roles to play, and none of you are allowed to deviate from it. as the youngest member, you've been branded as the epitome of innocence; the nation's very own precious angel. what this means is that you're kept on a tighter leash than everyone else. you're not allowed to be seen at clubs, not allowed to be seen out late, not allowed to wear revealing clothes. the media says you (and your other group members) are living the dream. you smile brightly and agree.

it's all a lie. besides the tight leash, there's financial abuse. growing up poor and not being the greatest at school, you picked up a part-time job. at first, to help with your grandmother's debt, but then you started spending it on after-school academies that would help you hone your singing and dancing skills. you spent so much time and money on traveling to auditions and participating in festivals, and finally, you get scouted. when you initially sign on with your agency, you know practically no one in the industry. a young, naive girl whose only family is an elderly, barely-there mentally woman. you're the ideal recruit. you unknowingly sign an exploitative contract where most of your earnings and rights to your image are signed away to your company. you overwork yourself because you need to maintain your position, on top of the outrageous expectations the company has for you. at the peak of your career, everything starts catching up to you. despite being famous and beloved worldwide, you're still in debt and barely getting paid. you live a restrictive, lonely life. your health is in shambles, and during a concert, you faint. this marks the beginning of the end.

it feels like no one is on your side. when you step back from the spotlight, taking the hiatus your agency pressures you to, you try to piece yourself back together again. it might be lonely at the top, but when you're at rock bottom, everyone avoids you like the plague. except for character. pro athlete character who's the only person in this industry who knew you before the fame. the two of you grew up in the same low income neighborhood back when you were kids, but his family ended up moving. he came to your group's first meet n greet, you know. he recognized you; came just to see you (he's always liked you). you pretended not to recognize him because your company doesn't allow personal connections they don't approve of, and with your life + the fact that he has his own fame to handle, you don't want to drag him into your mess. that's one of the last times you ever see him. except now he's texting you after you basically ghosted the world, and maybe, there really is someone on your side after all.

[inumkii]

mha boys working at a bakery

included: bakugou, kirishima, denki, shouto, and a little dabi feature

okay this prompt except its not awwww cute baker au! inspired by my old job, it was a bit miserable but i try to look back on it fondly

bakugou’s one of the bakers, almost always opening at 6am. there's a rare occasion where you're scheduled to open with only him and he's there early, prepping the dough with faint classical music playing in the background. opening shifts with him (and shifts in general) can be quite nice because he tends to mind his own business while you cover the counter, but you have walked in to him yelling at denki for leaving the scones in the oven for too long. i would say he’s pretty quiet when he bakes as long as no one else gets in his way. feel free to talk about whatever as he bakes because for you, he’ll silently listen. for anyone else, he’s complaining that they’re distracting him- unless! two people are talking mad shit or gossiping on the clock, he’s secretly listening in.

saturday morning opening shifts are your favorite because the two baker and two counter combo is almost always bakugo, kirishima, mina, and you. the reason why you put up with the miserable opening hours is because kiri and mina loveeeee to gossip about everything they’ve learned throughout the week between your coworkers and bakugou chimes in with additional information that no one else knew. you guys are surprised every time but he just shrugs it off.

kirishima is a sweetheart who does all the tasks that you don’t want to do. ask him to cover mopping tonight? done. need the stack of 50 sheet trays carried to the back? he’s taking care of it. he’s normally baking in the morning but he’ll close from time to time and you always know you’ll be out early when you see his name on the schedule.

denki takes closing shifts more often because he likes to call dibs on the pastries that didn't sell that day. he works at the counter more than baking,,, we all know why.. but he insists he can do either!! for everyone’s sake, especially the customers, you stick him behind the register.

i do think large group orders freak denki out so you have to stand next to him and help him ring them up every time. you really can't tell if he's pretending for the sake of having you by his side or if he genuinely can’t do it. (its a bit of both)

you guys have a closing checklist where you have to sign your name next to every cleanup task after completion but you and denki both hate doing the same things. so he’ll be a pain in the ass and sign his name prematurely on random tasks so you’ll get stuck on mopping duty. sorry. this is getting self indulgent but your personal favorite task is to take the chalk board advertisement for the bakery back inside at the end of the day. after a 7 hour shift, its a nice thirty second walk outside. somehow denki finds out that you love that task so he starts beating you to it. its gotten to a point where someone will innocently ask if anyone's taken in the sign for the night and there's a split second where you guys look at each other before immediately racing out the front door to see who can get to it first.

shouto is a gentleman!!!!!! he’s always there in the daytime, takes the 9-4 shifts mostly. hired as a baker but he took the counter once and he really charmed those old ladies popping in for their morning muffin so he’s kinda been defaulted to the front. you’ve been guilty at handing the phone to him when a wholesale order has gotten too confusing and he’ll kindly take over. he’s become the face the regulars see the most when they walk in due to the nature of his shift times.

you mostly catch shouto for an hour or two when you work closing shifts, coming in around 2. some nights, by the time you realize you need to take out the trash, its already dark outside. the dumpster walk isn’t necessarily far, but its not pleasant nor does it feel very safe. but when you go to check the trash, you realize shouto silently took them out before he got off his shift a few hours ago so you didn’t have to walk out in the dark. he’s never scheduled closing shifts, but if someone needs it covered + he sees that you're the other closer, he’s quick to offer. walks you back to your car too.

there’s a coffee shop in the same shopping complex that your bakery is friendly with. by the end of the night, any leftover pastries get put into a ziplock and handed over to them in exchange for a free coffee. the mysterious barista who’s name tag reads ‘dabi’ is always the one to thank you for bringing over the treats and making your latte. he knows exactly what you're gonna get every time he sees you walking up to the front of the cafe. he sends you off every night with a wink and your coffee in hand

(you aren’t aware that dabi is related to shouto at all. its never been brought up and they're mostly on different shift schedules. so when shouto hears about your closing night exchanges, he starts shifting his schedule just so he can accompany you. and to keep an eye on his brother to make sure he’s not going to pull anything funny.)

-

additional all might as my boss: early morning opening shifts are your worst enemy just because you cannottt be bothered to wake up earlier than noon, so when you do, you come in having just woken up ten minutes before. your boss catches you one morning and stops you for a ten minute rant about how you should be more confident with your bare face! and makeup is a social construct, so feel beautiful with yourself!! and you think its sweet but you didnt even notice how you weren’t even wearing the usual makeup look. thanks greg. i guess. he means well.

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

Look, this will not always work, so excercise caution. I am a willing agent of chaos, and I completely ran out of fucks to give ten years ago.

So, when these things happen, I murder the hypotenuse. I purposely cut the middle man to watch both uninterested clerks squirm.

This is sounding too much like a villain speech, to the point: I either put both representatives in the same conference call, or stand in front of one then call the other on speaker. I go "Yes, this is [me], this is Person from X, this is Person from Y. I am having trouble relaying the information correctly to each side so I thought it would be best if you both spoke directly." And then explain the problem.

So far, 9 out of 11 times I've done this, they were too caught off guard to use their deflection techniques and ended up just *doing the thing* so I would leave faster.

Of the two times it didn't work, one was because the third person just hung up, but by the next day my issue was solved.

We're *all* gonna be panicked and awkward here, mate, I refuse to be the only one.

But again, procceed with caution, this is not for the faint of heart, you'll need to be firm (but polite) and stand your ground; and you risk making other people angry.

I think this is just a trend everywhere but I've been very frustrated this week by how much admin work is being outsourced to me as the patient/customer.

My orthodontist tells me I can make an appointment with the surgeon. I call the surgeon. They tell me I need a new referral. I call the orthodontist. They do a referral. I call the surgeon. Referral didn't come through. They tell me about their special unique system we have to use. I call the ortho again and walk them through the referral. I call the surgeon. They say the referral was missing some details so they have to do it again. I call the ortho.

The insurance company calls me about repair shops. I give them the name of the repair shop which I already gave them yesterday. They say they're not in their system but I can use them, but I have to call the repair shop to ask them to contact the insurance company. I call the repair shop and they say the insurance company is supposed to email them.

I feel like at a certain point these constant fetch quests become unreasonable?? Is it too much to expect these groups to communicate with each other instead of making me run back and forth between them???

[igorluvr]

'MAY YOU NEVER FORGET ME

PAIRING: choi su-bong (thanos) x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: depression had always been a huge issue for you, covering it up with empty joy. so what would happen if you found someone just like you, who was willing to change for your sake?

WARNINGS: heavy angst, mature themes, mental health issues, implied self harm, depression, panic attacks, insecurities, guns, negative self talk, suicidal thoughts/actions!!!!!!, main character death

AUTHORS NOTE: spoiled y’all with tm fluff, gotta remind u shit ain’t sweet round here.

words: [25k]

YOU were never truly "okay". Even though you always claimed to be, faking a smile when on the inside your whole world felt like it was collapsing. The last thing you wanted was for people to worry about you. Because if they did, they might discover the tangled mess of emotions you kept hidden away. Instead, you committed to putting on a face of bravery, drowning your pain in corny jokes and soulless smiles. While your heart still ached with that same emptiness you'd been feeling for years on end, doing this was easier than trying to explain the darkness that lurked beneath your surface.

You dreaded that one day, your facade would crack and everything would come tumbling down, revealing the emotions you tried so hard to protect everyone from. So, you continued to mask your emotions and if you let your act slip, you’d brush it off and tell them you were just tired. Every lie felt like it was putting more weight on your shoulders, but it was weight you were used to carrying.

Deep down you longed for someone to notice that you weren’t okay, to see beyond the smile and recognize the pain. But you knew that you made it almost impossible for someone to notice that anything was wrong.

Or so you thought, until you stumbled across the explosive personality of a man by the name of Thanos. Honestly, you were jealous of how well he carried himself. He seemed to be one of the only people here that was carefree, even if he is pumped with drugs. Looking at him in awe, you wondered how he did it, staying okay in a place like this.

Even though your mind was hyper focused on the eccentric man, you were completely unaware of how you stood out to him almost immediately. It wasn’t because you were annoying and obnoxious like everyone else here, it was because you two were the same.

You had some major personality differences, as you were more on the quiet and bubbly side. But Thanos used to be just like you. So the smile fading when all eyes were off of you, random mood swings, nonstop jokes, constantly tugging your sleeves down the second they rolled up, tears swelling in your eyes when nobody was around. He noticed.

He never got better, though. Just found ways of dealing with it. Using drugs and music as outlets of his depression. Thanos could tell you didn’t have anything like that, just letting all the pain seep in and build up inside of you. He wanted to help you before it got too much, how it almost did for him.

As he approached you, a confused look formed on your face. You’d never said anything to him or saw him look your way, so why was he suddenly trying to talk to you?

“What’s got you in here, babydoll?” he pondered “you look too sweet to be in any debt.”

At first, the sudden interest in your background confused you. You stared blankly for a couple seconds before remembering that you knew nobody else here, so what was the harm in opening up to this complete stranger?

“Student loan debt. Guess that’s what I get for going to an ivy league with barely any money” You laugh. Even though this was sort of a sensitive topic for you, having got into your dream school still having things going wrong, you tried to laugh about it.

Thanos could tell though. He saw the way your smile faltered a bit, how you lost the shine in your eyes. “I like you, stay close to me okay?” He said, eyes focused on you with nothing but pure intentions.

Why did he choose you of all people? There wasn’t anything interesting about your appearance, or how you acted. In that moment, as Thanos leaned back against the wall and settled in beside you, something shifted inside of you.

It was like the burden that weighed you down for so long was briefly lifted to reveal a sliver of vulnerability you kept buried for years. Maybe this strange man, with his wild presence, could see something you had long hid within yourself; a yearning for connection, a wish for someone to see and understand your struggles.

Thanos had broken through the toughness of your spirit, offering warmth and an unexpected sense of safety. Yet, the fear of being vulnerable with anyone haunted over you like a storm cloud, ready to unleash the emotions and secrets you had kept buried.

“Okay then,” Thanos said, breaking the heavy silence, “What’s the full story? It can’t just be student loans and bad choices. You look like you're carrying a world on those shoulders. But hey, I’m no therapist, just an expert in not fitting in.” His laughter was contagious and the sincerity of his tone made you wonder about the details of his own struggles.

Still, despite how much you wanted to reach out, start crying and finally release the burden you'd been carrying so long, you clung to the familiar comfort of masking how you felt, shooting him a quick smile that fell just short of genuine. It was easier to laugh it off than to reveal the chaos waiting inside.

But Thanos wasn’t easily fooled. He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and sympathy. “You know, I used to think if i pushed everything down and ignored it, nobody else would notice my problems, too.” he said with a hint of vulnerability, “So I can see right through your little act sweetheart.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at the nickname but found the corner of your mouth lifting in a slight smile. Maybe it was the way his sincerity cut through your heart, or how his presence somehow felt comforting, like a thick warm blanket swallowing your body on a chilly day.

Thanos noticed your slight grin and raised an eyebrow, his own growing wider. “See? That’s the smile I like to see, we’re making progress here.” He nudged your shoulder lightly with his large ringed hand. “Come on I won’t bite, open up a little bit. Tell me about yourself like... what do like doing in your free time?”

You chuckled softly, caught off guard by his eagerness. “Um… I guess I like listening to music?” Music was one of the ways you ignored everything. As soon as you put your headphones in, it seemed like the world turned to a blur and your thoughts finally silence.

Thanos nodded, leaning back slightly, as if giving you the space to breathe yet still holding you in his gaze. “Music, huh? I get you. There’s something powerful about it. Like… a way we can hear what our voices can’t always express” he observed, seeming more immersed.

You could feel the walls you had carefully built around your emotions start to break, the cracks appearing as you considered sharing more. “Yeah, it’s like an escape” you admitted, voice softening “When everything else gets too loud, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

He smiled gently, and you could tell he understood the depth of your words. “I get that,” he spoke gently, “It feels good to be able to… find the rhythm in chaos.” His eyes glazed over for a split second, lost in thought, before focusing back on you. “I used to write. Rhymes and lyrics, they were a way to process everything. Like my own therapy session, but with a beat.”

The way he spoke so passionately about making rhymes piqued your curiosity. You didn't take him as the creative type, definitely not poems or lyrics, but there was something about the way he mentioned it that made you want to know more. “You wrote music?” you asked, your tone neutral, but your interest piqued.

Thanos chuckled, low, and rumbling. “Still do, from time to time. Used to be big doing it but that got cut off pretty fast. Tried to let it go but… it's a part of me.” He leaned forward, his eyes taking on an intense glare. “There's something about putting words to a beat that just clicks. Like everything finally makes sense, y'know?”

You found yourself drawn into his passion, the way he spoke about music, it was infectious. And before you knew it, you were smiling again. Feeling a sense of connection with this stranger that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You leaned in, curiosity taking control of you. “What do you mean it got cut off?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. There was something about how his voice sounded when he said it, as if it were hit with an ache of longing and nostalgia, that made you want to know more.

Thanos’ gaze drifted off, his eyes clouding over like he was remembering something stowed deep into his mind. “I was in a competition, a rap contest” he began, his voice low and cautious. “I made it to the finale, but I fucked up. Forgot my lyrics on live TV.” He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound that sent a wave of sympathy through you. “It was a pretty public embarrassment. After that, I just… lost my drive, I guess. Didn’t feel like I could face the music scene again.”

You tilt your head, your eyes brimming with compassion as imagine how bad Thanos must've felt. “I get why you’d feel that way,” you said gently, trying to offer some advice, “But if music clearly still means a lot to you, why did you stop doing it completely?” you asked with your eyes locked on his, searching for answers in his gaze.

Thanos’ gaze snapped back to yours, like a fire igniting within them. “It’s hard to explain,” he said with a hint of roughness in his voice, “When you're up on that stage, with all those people watching you, and you mess up… it feels like you’re failing in front of the whole world. And for me, it wasn’t just about the music. It was about the persona, the image. When I messed up, it felt like I was losing myself too.” He paused, taking a breath to calm his nerves down. “But even after all this time, I still find myself writing. Like my brain's hardwired to respond to music.”

You felt a connection deepening between you, an understanding that passed the surface-level. “So, do you think you’ll ever perform again?”

Thanos hesitated, his eyes washing over with uncertainty. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice defeated. “Part of me misses it. The thrill of the stage, the energy of the crowd, it was amazing. But I'm also just scared. That failure keeps haunting over me, I don't wanna feel like that again.”

His honesty struck a chord within you. You could see the struggle all on his face, and it made you wish you could help him find that spark again. “It sounds like you're still searching for closure. Maybe you need to reconnect with it,” you suggested tentatively, hoping to encourage him. “Music doesn’t have to be about the fame or the competition. It can just be… for you.”

His eyes twinkled with hope, looking up at you with admiration. "Thank you, seriously," he spoke up, "Never had anyone look out for me like that." Suddenly he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer, his grip warm and reassuring.

From that moment on, you knew you'd made a friend for life. You went everywhere together, always grouping up during games and making sure each other were safe. The two of you were truly inseparable. That was, until the morning of the final game.

There were only 40 contestants left. Having lost many people close to you, shivers ran down your spine as you thought what the last mission would be. Almost every night, you had panic attacks and could barely sleep. After the 2nd game, you and Thanos moved your beds by each other in hopes of it helping the both of you calm down. Tonight, was one of the worst nights for you.

You laid in the dim scenery of the sleeping quarters, blue and red lights bouncing off of the bed frames. Your heart pounded like a drum with each beat echoing your unspoken fears. The weight of uncertainty felt as if it were crushing you, a terrible foreshadowing of the next game looming over your head.

Shadows deepened around you, contorting into horrifying shapes that mirrored the anxieties pounding at your mind. Your breaths came in quick gasps, each one capturing less air than the last. The suffocating fear of what was to come spun out of control.

You tried all the methods that helped in the past, but you couldn't focus on anything. Sweat drenched your body as the oxygen in the room seemed as it were running away from you. In your mind, all you could see were those bodies. All the blood and screams. Only one thought could form in your mind 'what if that were me?'

Beside you, Thanos stirred around, feeling the tension radiating from your body. He turned to face you, eyes flickering open, immediately aware that something was wrong. “Hey,” he murmured softly yet urgently, “what’s going on?”

You had felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you whispered, “I can’t… I can’t do this. I’m so scared, Thanos. What if something happens? What if I—what if you.. die?” The words stuttered out in a rush, drenched with panic, the thought of losing him cutting through your heart like a knife.

Thanos’ expression shifted from sleepy to one of deep concern as he moved closer, his presence a calming force against the storm inside you. He gently took your hands inside his, relaxed and cautiously, and held them tightly. “Listen to me,” he said, voice low and soothing, “You’re not alone in this. I promise I’m going to do everything I can to keep us safe, both of us.”

Your breath hitched, but his gaze stayed on yours. “Remember what we talked about? We’ve been through so much together already. We can get through this too. No game is going to take me from you, not now, not ever.”

His words had felt like a lifeline, restoring you back to the world as you clung to them. You searched his eyes, your heart aching at the truth of what was unspoken between you. “But w-what if I lose you?” you choked out, vulnerable and exposed.

“I’ll fight like hell to make sure that doesn’t happen” he replied, “We’re in this together. I’m not just fighting for myself, I’m fighting for you, for us.” He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I won’t let anything break us apart. I… I love you.”

His words floated in the air, a fragile yet meaningful phrase that cut through the thick tension of the moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest, caught off guard by the intensity and sincerity in Thanos’ voice.

You swore off of telling anybody that for a long time. But still, you couldn't help but feel the warmth radiating between you, a spark of connection glowing in the darkness. A wave of emotions crashed over you, joy and confusion mixing in a twister of emotions.

For a split second, all of your worries vanished. What laid ahead, the uncertainty of the games, the horrifying fear of loss. All of it faded away with just his 3 words. You swallowed hard, the weight of your anxiety lifting just enough to let something else in; love.

“Thanos…” you said softly, voice trembling as you searched his gaze. The reality of what he said sank in, wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace. You took a breath, steadying your breath, and met his unwavering expression with your own. “I love you too,” you whispered, the words flowing from your heart as if they had always been there, waiting for the right moment to break free.

As soon as you had said it, a wave of relief washed over you. You could see the way his eyes lit up, reflecting authenticity and openness. In that moment, as he pulled you closer, the world outside felt a little less overwhelming. “Us against the world” he muttered into your neck, sealing the bond between you two.

In the safety of his embrace, you lifted your face, letting your forehead rest against his as the tension began to disperse. “No matter what happens, I'm gonna fight for us” you said, your voice steadier now, strengthened by the love that filled the space between you.

His smile widened, showing the strength of his determination in his eyes. “You’re my everything. I won’t let these stupid games take that away from us” he reassured, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

As you sat there, taking in his presence, you felt like it was the perfect time to ask him something that had been on your mind the last week or so. "Thanos," you spoke up, causing his eyes to meet yours again, "what made you come up to me that day?"

His gaze softened a bit, looking down as to avoid eye contact with you. "Well, to be honest, I'm just like you." He admitted. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what he was referring to.

"Y'know, I noticed it as soon as I saw you. I could tell you weren't okay up there, and this place isn't somewhere to be in that state" Oh. You thought you did a good job at hiding it, were you really letting your mask slip that much?

As soon as your mind started racing, Thanos placed his hands on your shoulders. "Hey, its okay. You didn't make it obvious or nothin'. I just didn't want you to get in a bad headspace and not give it your all. I could tell you're strong." He said, eyes flicking down to your wrists.

Quickly, you jerk your arms back. Shit, did they show? You looked back up at Thanos with tears in your eyes, terrified of what he'd think of you now that he saw who you really are. Weak and pathetic

"No no, Its okay. They're beautiful. Shows that you never give up, no matter what." Thanos comforted, face turning pale near the last part. "I'm jealous."

The tears started falling as you took in his words of validation. After years of trying to hide the scars, you finally felt like they were a declaration of your strength rather than a source of shame.

"I've never told anyone this, but now seems like the right time, yea?" He started, causing you to put your full attention on him "You saw my video, right? Of me playing ddakji?"

You chuckled for a bit, "Yea, it was pretty hard to miss"

"Right," he laughed, with a hint of pain. "Before that recruiter found me, I was on a bridge. I felt like I was at the end of my story, ready to let go. Nothing mattered anymore. I lost everything that made me happy. My job, my money, my sense of purpose. I thought I had tried everything else, and there was no other way out."

He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting out toward the blank room. “But then he came out of nowhere, with that stupid fancy suit. He asked if i wanted to play ddakji. Said if I won, he'd give me 100,000 won. It wasn't a lot but its better than nothing right?"

His eyes met yours, a flicker of resistance igniting within them. “I thought, what’s the worst that could happen? If I lost, I’d still be back where I started. But if I won… maybe there was hope after all.”

He ran a hand through his wild purple hair, a mix of relief and regret washing over him. “I never thought calling that number would lead me here, to this moment. It’s crazy how a simple choice can change everything. Y'know, it’s in our darkest moments that we find the light. I’m still scared, but I’m fighting now. For myself, and for those who can’t fight anymore.”

"But I saw you still had that fight in you, you just needed a push. And I wanted to be that for you" Thanos sighed.

Even more tears ran down your face but this time, the same went for him. You never thought that someone would actually take this much effort, especially in a situation like this, to look out for you. You didn't think you mattered that much to anyone.

The two of you laid down in your now shared bed, holding each other tight as to not lose one another, and slowly drifted into sleep.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

As the lights slammed on and intercom went off, you felt a familiar void in your stomach. As if on cue, Thanos rubbed your hand gently, bringing you immediate comfort. "Im right here, baby. N' Im not goin anywhere." A slight warmth rushed to your face as his words replayed in your head, maybe everything was gonna be okay after all.

You waited for what seemed like hours for them to bring food out, but it never came. It seemed as if you were getting less and less food as time went on. Was this on purpose to make everyone weaker? You didn't know, but it was definitely taking a toll on you.

Both of you stayed within an arms length of eachother the whole time. Even until they announced everyone to line up to enter the final game.

Thanos walked directly infront of you, holding your hand as you made your way through the stairs splattered with an arrangement of colors. The first time you walked though them, it seemed so colorful and full of life. Now, it just seemed dull.

As you walked into the near pitch-black room with red led lights tracing the walls, you felt your heart drop. Something wasn't right. Your stomach turned in a terrifying way as you held onto Thanos, scared of what's to come.

He's learned your behavior and what your actions mean, causing him to pull you closer. Thanos was aware of how easy you get anxious, and how bad it can get. And he felt as if was his job to protect you from all your worries.

Unbeknownst to you, though, Thanos felt the exact same way. He didn't know exactly what it was, but something about this particular game felt uneasy. In an attempt to stay strong for you, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Don't let go of me okay? Its dark as shit in here I can barely see" He laughed, trying his best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Your palms got sweatier by the second as the both of you walked deeper into the room, occasionally bumping into people. Eventually, you heard the instructions come on the speaker.

"Please, split into 4 equal groups based off of your previous votes. Two "X" groups of 10, Two "O" groups of 10. You have 5 minutes" Immediately after, the red lights started blaring, just how they did during the mingle game. Your heart stopped as you heard that. Thanos hadn't gotten a chance to change his vote, were the two of you going to be separated during the final game?

“No!” you cried out, the word bursting from your lips like a desperate plea, hoping something, anything will change. “Thanos, we can't—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his eyes wide with fear, reflecting the same mix of urgency and determination as your own. “We got to find our groups before it’s too late.”

Why? Why was this happening now? Your mind raced as panic set in. The room felt stifling, the air thick with dread and uncertainty. You could feel the tension radiating off the players around you, their whispers and shuffling feet blending into a chaotic symphony of anxiety.

The chilling announcement echoed in your ears “4 minutes remain”

You could feel the pull of the frenzied crowd, the inevitable separation haunting you like a distant nightmare. You pushed through the horde, each step heavier than the last, your heart racing as you caught a glimpse of something, a cluster of players forming with that familiar 'X' patch on their chests.

“Thanos, look!” you shouted, your eyes locking onto the group that was gathered before you. “That’s my group!”

“Go, I’ll find mines.” Thanos urged, his grip on your hand loosening even though his eyes fought against losing you. “Just remember what we talked about. Keep pushing even if it seems impossible. Ill be waiting for you when we get out.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you began to pull away from him. “I can’t believe this is happening...” you whispered to yourself as the despair finally settled in.

With a final hug, his warmth wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, your hands slipped apart. The distance between you suddenly felt colossal, the amount of space between the both of you increasing with each passing player. Thanos was officially lost to the shadows.

Your heart pounded alarmingly in your chest as you joined the half of your “X” group, forcing yourself to focus despite the panic. You scanned the players, assessing the strength of the new faces around you. Were they reliable? Would they betray you?

A few familiar players joined the formation alongside you, Dae-ho and Jun-hee murmuring quiet reassurances to one another. “We can do this,” The taller man said, eyes darting around the group as the tension thickened.

But as more players continued to merge into smaller clusters, the reality set in, you had to push forward alone, even if your lover felt impossibly distant.

Just as you were being further swept into a crowd of new allies, the loudspeaker croaked out another instruction yet again. “Participants, please stick closely with your chosen group. As you do this, make your way towards the door ahead.”

You took a deep breath, shaky with uncertainty. The door ahead shone like a gateway to the unknown. The murmurs of strategizing and encouragement filled the air, a strange mix of comfort and anxiety filled your body as you tried to tune out everything around you.

Dae-ho nudged you gently, his voice steadying. “Stay focused. We’ll work together and beat this, okay?”

You nodded, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety overwhelming you. “Yeah” You muttered, hearing your heartbeat in your ears, a persistent reminder of the stakes. As each group stepped closer to the door, the pink soldier with a bold circle on it's mask stopped everyone.

"Which group will be going first?" The soldier spoke, in a slightly distorted voice.

After a couple seconds of quiet mutters between every team, the leader of the other X group, the man from the previous games, spoke up.

"We'll go. This might be similar to a game I've done" He announced. Your group swiftly moved out of the way to allow his team to go. One by one, they walked through the door. As soon as the final member made their way through, the mechanical door forced shut, cutting off any view of the inside.

Waiting felt like an eternity. The tension in the air grew thicker as each team member shifted nervously. You could sense the anxiety growing in them. Whispers arose among your group, forming predictions on what may be beyond that door, but none could compare to the despair of reality.

About 10 minutes after the first group entered, they began calling for the next one. As your team was next in line, the guard signaled you all to go inside the door. Your heart dropped as you gave Thanos a final look back, tears in your eyes as you dread what's to come.

The scene infront of you was immersive. The room was bright, like a carnival. There were big glowing lights everywhere. As you stepped through the door, a chilling rush of air slapped against your face, carrying with it an overwhelming sense of dread. Before you knew it, the line of people suddenly stopped, causing you to faceplant into the person before you.

"Wait!" Someone yelled, "We're on a platform.."

As you peaked around the group, you saw how high up you were. There were horizontal poles coming from the ceiling, resembling something that you knew all too well.

"Welcome players. Allow me to introduce you to the sixth and final game: Monkey Bars. The rules are simple. Every member of your team must traverse a series of monkey bars before the timer hits zero. But beware, missing a bar and falling will result in immediate elimination."

As murmurs of fear rippled through the group, you took a deep breath to steady yourself. Even though Thanos had been drawn away, you couldn’t afford to lose. You needed to use all of your strength to complete this game while holding onto hope that you would see him again.

But deep in your gut, you feared that fate had other plans.

You glanced down, your heart racing as you tried to make sense of the distance to the ground. It felt like a dizzying drop, one wrong move could mean the end of everything you fought so hard for. Your teammates exchanged worried glances, each of them struggling with their own fears and doubts.

You could hear the faint beeping in the background, the sound growing louder with each passing second. The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you clenched your fists, surveying the area once more so you fully understand what you're getting yourself into.

As the countdown hit zero, the timer's blaring sound echoed through the venue like a gunshot, triggering a surge of chaos. One by one, players launched themselves onto the first bar, swinging forward with determination. They attempted to coordinate their movements, using a tactic similar to the one in the 6-legged race.

With the rhythm of jumping every two counts guiding them, you carefully watched as some moved gracefully while others struggled and faltered, their cries of panic bouncing off the walls. The sight of watching your peers slowly fall to their death put a sick feeling in your stomach, the mushy 'splat!' as they hit the floor making you want to throw up.

Before you knew it, it was your turn. The immense pit of fear in your stomach twisted tighter as you leapt forward, grasping the first bar with both hands. The initial swing was thrilling yet terrifying, anxiety clawing at you with the fear of falling. You forced yourself to stay focused. Inch by inch, you moved, feeling the strain in your muscles as you reached for the next bar.

“Come on, keep going!” someone shouted from behind you, their encouragement pushing you forward. Each bar you grabbed felt like a small victory, but you knew you still had much more to go, taking tiny glimpses at the amount of bars left. You could hear gasps from teammates behind you after slipping off a bar, causing them to fall and add to the pile of gruesome bodies gathering below you.

Seeing all those bodies at the bottom caused your overthinking to kick in at the absolute wrong time. What if you fell? What if you died? Desperation clawed at you as you reached the halfway point. The metal bars were slick with sweat and your palms felt numb, grip faltering. But the thought of Thanos pushed you onward, a reminder of everything you had to lose—and everything you were fighting for.

From then on, with every swing, hope swelled within you. This could be the moment that changed everything. That fleeting memory of Thanos pushed you further than you ever thought. You remembered his words "Keep pushing even if it seems impossible." and it fueled you like never before. Your heart raced, a mix of determination and dread flooding through you.

Taking a deep breath, you used every ounce of determination in you and pushed forward once more. With one final pull, you swung to the last bar, the end platform finally coming into view.

As you landed safely, a rush of euphoria washed over you. You’d made it! The cheers from your team resonated around you, but there was no time for celebration just yet. You turned back to the others, knowing that many were still grappling with their own struggles.

“Keep going!” you shouted, your voice hoarse but filled with fervor. “You can do this!”

With your encouragement, you watched as your teammates found the strength to push themselves forward, unified in the fight for survival in this relentless game. Hope flickered within you, a feeling you wished would carry all of you to victory.

As your team finished the challenge, you felt your nerves calm down. There were some that didn't make it, but the majority did and you were happy for that. The timer still had a minute and 20 seconds left, everyone spent their time talking and calming down. One thing that confused you, though, was that the other half of the 'X' group was still there from when they finished. If they completed the game, shouldn't they be able to go back to their own room?

Just as the thought started to worry you, the buzzer rang through the room, signaling that your remaining time was now up. You expected to be taken to the sleeping quarters, but there were no guards, not even a door on the side you stood on.

The first half of the 'O' group walked through the entrance, and your heart exploded as you saw a face you grew to love. It was Thanos. You could see a familiar intensity etched across his brow. He was in his element, ready to confront the challenge ahead.

The second you locked eyes, his face glowed in admiration. Time seemed to freeze as the noise around you faded, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

Your exchanged gazes were cut off by the blaring buzzer, signaling the start of his team’s round. He straightened his posture, expression changing swiftly from admiration to fierce determination. With a quick glance back at you, he locked eyes one last time. A silent promise passed between you, he would give his absolute all.

Soon enough, the familiar purple head of hair caught your attention. He was about to start. It felt like you were the one on the bars as you watched him make his way across. As he took a deep breath and launched himself into the challenge, it was like the ground beneath you shifted. You were completely focused, holding your breath with each swing he took.

Every struggle and grunt made you flinch. Watching the players make their way across the stage, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that your boyfriend was right behind them, fighting for his life.

Even though he seemed to be making it across fairly okay your heart still beat profusely. At some point, you decide to turn away altogether, saving yourself from the pain of watching. While you sat there with your eyes glued closed, trying to shield yourself from the people before you, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Slowly, you pull your head up, not wanting to face reality. But the person you were stressing so much over was standing right infront of you. Thanos stood there, a mix of adoration and relief flooding his face.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, proving how much the previous game had tired him. You could see faint layer of sweat glistening against the harsh lights above, but none of that really mattered. What mattered was the warmth in his eyes as he leaned in closer, hugging you tightly as to calm himself down.

“You okay?” His voice was soft yet urgent, a contrast to the loudness of the everything around you. With this, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I was watching, It was..”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. “But I’m here now.”

Your heart swelled, despite the noise and yells from the crowds around you. It was such a relief to see him unharmed, standing tall and ready for anything. The moment slowed as you both just stared at each other, words slipping away.

Unfortunately, your moment got cut off, like always, by the instrusive 10 minute timer going off. While the next group made their way in, the two of you just laid there, taking in each others presence before the games ended, for good.

It felt like you were floating, like nothing around you mattered and the two of you were the only people on earth. As you drifted deeper into this peaceful haven you knew that nothing could ever break the bond that you shared with Thanos, a bond that was forged in tough times and deep emotions.

But as they say, there's always a calm before the storm.

The final team completed the challenge before you knew it, and the whole room erupted with cheers. We were finally able to go home. This whole time, all the tears and fighting was worth it. Thanos kissed you passionately as to celebrate the win, or what seemed like a win.

All of the applause were cut short by that nerve-wracking intercom coming back on. "Dear contestants, congratulations on completing the first part of the game! 24 players now remain."

Your heart stopped as you heard those words. First part..? Didn't we finish the games? You looked up at Thanos in disbelief, hoping to get some type of comfort. Instead, you were met with a face of pure terror.

All the color was drained from his cheeks as his mouth hung open out of shock, he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Panic surged through you, overpowering the joy of victory. You exchanged glances with the others in the room, confusion and dread painting their faces, mirroring your own fears.

The intercom continued, its voice cold and mechanical. “The rules for Phase 2 are the same as Phase 1: There is a time limit of 25 minutes for all remaining players to return to the opposite side of the room. Please proceed with caution.”

25 minutes? That isn't nearly enough time to get everyone across. Your uneasiness grew as players started to shuffle around in worry, adding onto your anxiety of already being high up. The timer blared through the room, signaling the start of phase 2.

Player 456 took initiative and stepped infront of everyone, coming up with a plan. "Everyone, follow my lead. A person will join in every 3 bars, be careful and don't panic. It will slow you down and cause everyone to mess up."

Soon after his speech, he took a leap onto the bar, causing the countdown to begin. Everyone followed his orders, joining in every 3 bars. It was all going smoothly up until it was nearing your turn.

You watched as the team excelled, most pushing though the dismay and making it to the end. Others weren't as lucky, losing their grip and falling to their deaths.

Thanos insisted on going after you, claiming it would help him stay focused and remember what he’s fighting for. You agreed quickly, finding his words endearing, completely oblivious to the true reason for his actions.

Unbeknownst to you, Thanos had gotten an arm injury in one of the previous games, which progressively worsened. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to worry any more, but he could feel himself losing strength. Especially with this final game being physical, Thanos knew this was his last chance to be with you.

Instead of telling you his true feelings, that he was sure this would be his last time seeing you, he decided to protect your heart for now. After all, isn’t that what he approached you to do?

As the person before you made their way onto the bars, Thanos pulled you in for a tight, unknowingly final hug. You weren’t sure why he did this, or why it felt so much more different, but you appreciated it.

“Please, try your hardest okay? Don’t give up no matter what.” He muttered, face stuffed in the crook of your neck. Before waiting for a response, he gently grasped your face with both hands and pressed his lips against yours in a long, passionate kiss that left you breathless.

His mouth moved with a desperate urgency, as if savoring every second you had left together. The kiss was like a goodbye, a promise of forever that lingered even as it came to an end.

You jumped on the bar, full of life. All your strength kicked in at this moment as you used Thanos’ words to power you through. The muscles in your arms burned as you worked through the challenge, but his presence fueled your determination. You couldn’t let him down. Not now.

The crowd roared around you, their cheers blending into a rhythmic chant that kept pace with your heartbeat. Looking back at Thanos, you saw his face pale with anxiety. You wanted to assure him that everything would be alright, but you were too focused on pushing past your limits.

As the minutes ticked by and the final bar loomed ahead, you felt doubt creep in—what if you weren’t strong enough? What if all the fighting, all the trouble from the last games led to this moment and you were about to fail?

You took a final look back, wanting to see Thanos' face in hopes of it pushing you through the last half of the course, but instead get met with a face of sheer terror. Thanos' face was full of raw desperation, his eyes wide and glistening with an unsettling mix of fear and disbelief.

The usually relaxed lines of his jaw tightened, showing a weakness that sharply contrasted with his earlier mood. Unbeknownst to you, this was the moment he finally understood the weight of his looming defeat. He knew the end had come, but why did it have to be with you right in front of him?

Thanos' arms buckled as he attempted to push through, to use all his remaining energy to make it to the end. Each swing grew heavier as the bars beneath his hands grew slick with sweat. His heart raced, not just from the pressure but from the dread settling in his gut. A shadow of hopelessness flickered through his mind.

“This can’t be it,” he thought, clenching his jaw as he struggled to swing himself forward. Not like this. Not now. His gaze flickered to you, hanging off the bar 3 ahead of him, eyes wide with concern and shimmering with tears.

Memories of your laughter echoed through his mind, light and warm against the harsh reality of these games. He remembered those nights spent talking about dreams and futures, the plans you constructed together so effortlessly. All the times you had smiled at him, with that light in your eyes that made his heart swell, igniting a fire deep within him that he didn’t know he had left.

But now, did it even matter? The cruel thought twisted in his chest like a knife. He fought through so much, lost everything, only to get this close to the one thing he wanted most; true, undeniable love. And now it felt like sand slipping through his fingers, the more he struggled, the more he was losing.

As he swung on the next bar, his grip faltered for just a moment, and unlike every other time before, he felt fragility creep into his bones. The voice within him began to scream, demanding him to give up, that it was all over. Why keep fighting when the odds felt impossible?

But he had to move, for you. He gritted his teeth, forcing his body forward, fatigue clinging to him like a leech. With every swing, he felt a crack in his pride, a familiar emptiness growing in him as his thoughts flooded with anxieties.

He remembered the warmth of your hands in his, the gentle touch that made every battle feel worth it. Each moment spent with you had become a lifeline in this place, a source of hope he never thought he would have again.

As he took another swing, desperation fueled him, but quickly it faded. His muscles trembled, stabs of pain shooting through him. A vision of you, radiant and pure, tugged at his heart, and a sob caught in his throat. This was truly the end for him.

You tried not to turn back, hearing how much Thanos was struggling. You didn't want to see him like that. As the fight to the end continued you only had one thing on your mind; how happy the two of you would be after all this.

As you moved forward, a raspy voice came from behind you. "No…" Thanos murmured. Overcome by curiosity, you glanced back slightly. What you saw brought tears to your eyes.

You saw Thanos clutching the bar tightly with raw desperation, the last ounce of strength draining from him. He locked eyes with you, wanting nothing more but to keep going for you, his girl. But before he could think further, his body betrayed him. His fingertips slipped, a sudden loss of control, and time felt like it stretched endlessly.

Every memory, every smile, every hopeful dream flickered through your mind. The plans you had made, the laughter you shared, the quiet moments when everything else faded away and it was just the two of you.

But now, with horror pinching at your heart, you watched him fall. In that split second before he vanished from your sight, you saw the mix of fear and regret cross his face. It was a sight you would never forget, a moment where everything he had fought for clashed with the dreaded reality of loss.

As he disappeared from view, you felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. The warmth of your shared moments was replaced by an empty void, every hope for a future together gone in an instant. The world around you moved on, but you were frozen, trying to grasp the reality of what just happened.

You watched as Thanos, your first true love, fell to the ground becoming nothing more than another body added to the pile below. You faltered, unable to tear your gaze from the spot where he had been.

And in those final moments, as he hit the ground, with a pain that felt both devastating and liberating, he saw your face flash before him, etched forever in the depths of his heart. A love that would transcend even death. For a heartbeat more, he hoped that you would find your way through this cruel world, even if he could not be there to protect you.

A suffocating silence enveloped you, an immense contrast to the chaos that had erupted just moments before. The fight within you dispersed, replaced by a crushing sense of helplessness. Your only reason to keep going had just faded. You sloppily pushed your way to the end, fighting the urge to simply give up.

Finishing the challenge didn't excite you anymore. As you heard the announcement stating the end of the games, all you could think about was how you just lost the only person worth fighting for.

You could've did something, anything. Why him? Why couldn't it be you? The whole experience was bittersweet. As the screen displayed the amounts of money everyone would receive, there was no sense of happiness within you. Just a hole in your heart, one only Thanos could fill.

But now he's gone and you feel worse than ever. You didn't care about the money anymore. Sure, you were no longer in debt, but it wasn't worth losing your best friend. The money felt like an insult, a shallow victory overshadowed by the emptiness left in his death.

The days drag on. Every morning, you wake up hoping things will feel different, but the same sadness greets you like an unwanted shadow. You feel lost in a world that keeps moving forward while you’re frozen in the moment where you lost it all.

Eventually, the sadness becomes overwhelming, and you find yourself spiraling back into darker thoughts. Feelings of hopelessness creep in, and it’s hard to escape them. You start to think that maybe it would be easier if you just didn’t have to feel anything at all. That maybe not being here would take away the pain for good, and you catch yourself wondering if anyone would truly miss you.

Those thoughts frighten you, but they also exist in the quiet moments when everything else feels unbearable. In the times where there nothing to focus on but your thoughts and trauma, you wonder if it's worth it.

Nobody would care. Family hasn't called in months, friends cut you off. You were an embarrassment to be around. The thoughts kicked in harder, and you started to think of plans. Time, place, and opportunity; those were the 3 key things you needed to consider if you went trough with it.

But as you sit there, a small flicker of doubt creeps in. You remember how you used to laugh, how you once loved to share stories and connect with others. Remembering these times, your heart aches at how you took it for granted.

You would give anything to go back to those days. When you didn't have to worry about debt, being able to go out with friends everyday. Now the world seemed gray and lifeless. You felt like a ghost, simply floating through the stages of life, not truly taking in anything.

A week passes since you've been out the house, and you still haven't left your bed. The sheets cling to you like a magnet, but they suffocate you too. You haven’t showered in days, the thought of standing beneath the water feeling like an unruly task. Instead, you find comfort in the bundle of your blankets, where you can hide from the world and the relentless demands of life.

Your body feels sluggish as hunger pangs occasionally reminding you of your needs, but preparing food or even grabbing a snack seems overwhelming. It’s easier to ignore it, to push it aside and focus on trying to silence the chaos in your mind. You scroll endlessly through your phone, searching for distractions, but nothing holds your attention. You feel disconnected, like there's a glass wall between you and everything else.

Another week passes, the same exhausting loop continuing. Everything was genuinely draining, and you were tired of it. Breathing felt like a chore, and you could barely find the strength to get on your phone. So, you decided that it was time. Time for all your thoughts to silence and pain to finally stop.

You remembered the gun you kept in your bedside drawer, for "safety" reasons. It was never put to use, so maybe now was the time. Picking it up, you made sure it was fully loaded. You didn't want to regret this, not after everything that's happened.

Being your first time out the house in weeks, you drove to a faraway forest, making sure it was in a desolate place nobody would even think of visiting. The drive was about 2 hours long, causing it to be pitch black upon arrival. There hadn't been any cars for the past 45 minutes of driving, just how you wanted.

As you picked up your phone for the first time in almost a week, you noticed that there were hardly any notifications. It became clear that they really didn’t care. Looking up slightly, you noticed the time "11:38". Time, place, and opportunity.

All you could think about was Thanos. You'd promised him not to give up, but you had to. You thought back to his previous words, "it’s in our darkest moments that we find the light." Hearing his words repeat in your head made you realize, he was your light.

He'd came out of nowhere, sweet-talking you and washing all your worries away. For that week you'd known eachother, you were the happiest you'd been in a while. There wasn't a single time you considered doing something awful to yourself.

But now that he's gone, it seemed like you were in worse shape than before. You were bad, but not enough to be standing in the middle of the woods with nothing but your phone and a gun.

You shivered as the cool air from the wind hit your face. The dark, silent setting brought you uneasiness. You were finally alone. Raising the firearm to your head, your mind started racing. Was this really it? Is this how it ends?

The weight of the gun brought fatigue to your weak arm, being severely malnourished and exhausted. You felt horrible to break Thanos' promise, not being able to keep pushing anymore. The guilt hit you like a bus.

Suddenly, all your emotion intensified by a hundred. You felt a mix of anger and depression swirl though your body as you gripped the gun tighter. Every negative feeling abruptly switched onto you, leaving you with nothing but self-loathing.

Without thinking, you pulled the trigger. You felt a flash of agonizing pain as the thick bullet pierced through your skull. All of your pain was swiftly replaced with absolute serenity, as if the chaos of your life had finally unraveled.

As your awareness faded away, all you could think about was Thanos. How he held you when you started panicking, understood your body language, and connected with you like no one else did.

You'd reunite with him for good this time.

[darqx]

Another BP/HH/Gen answer dump as usual starting with BP and then moving into the other two \o/

All demons age about the same rate as humans (although with earlier milestones as babies) UNTIL they hit their 30s-40s after which aging slows down drastically 🙂‍↕️

Izm chasing you down to get .D back like

🤔 You guys sometimes really make me think about things I don't often have to think about LOL. I'm just gonna do the gang this time so off the top of my head:

Izm and .D are often eating sushi in my drawings and since I'm pretty sure Izm is mainly the one buying, sushi is his fave. He'll eat any type but he prefers the raw fish ones.

Whilst .D also likes sushi, it's not his fave dish. His fave dish is pasta in a red sauce (like Sugo or Arrabiata) for some reason. Nostalgia maybe?

Zeke is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, so, a nice juicy sirloin with mushroom sauce and a side of roast potatoes and veggies. (BP!Zeke is similar but he really likes pork/bacon particularly, so a pork roast for him probably).

Wei Ren's comfort foods are chicken congee, and seafood steamboat/hot pot.

Marcus' fave is his mom's chicken casserole.

Oh I'm glad (and thank you very much)! I hope you get lots of inspiration and can create a lot of things :D

Hm, that's a good question! I think, for doodling purposes, my fave is Rire mainly because Rire always looks more or less completed in black and white. My other two faves are .D and Izm - .D is a good exercise in subtle expressions whereas Izm is the complete opposite (esp with BP!Izm with that mouth).

Yes. I mean, I'd prefer you be at least 15 for those two things only cos if i had to age rate them they could be considered M or MA15+.

Hullo! The short answer is that there are also "not normal" skin tones, it depends on the demon species :)

The rest of society is pretty standard so yes there are charlatans in the world of BP lol. HOWEVER, no one would pretend to be a BP for three distinct reasons:

You need to be sanctioned to be a BP (ie they have abilities that normal people do not, like being able to perform exorcisms.)

There is no profit to be had as BPs generally don't get paid (all their living expenses are generally covered by their religion's HQ).

It's dangerous work. You'd have better luck being a bank robber.

Desmond is def a club music kind of guy XD EDMs, techno, trance, hardstyle, house, whatever - the kind of stuff you jump energetically up and down to at a club/concert/rave, he'll listen to it.

Not yet for BP (soon...🙏🏻). HH wasn't really a comic series so much as a bunch of somewhat random one shots I did for fun lol.

^ you guys :d

I don't put my pronouns anywhere partly because it is lowkey amusing for me to see how people perceive me online. It doesn't really matter to me, so go with your best guess lol.

You would be surprised at how much time those two hobbies can take up outside of work |D; I also like doing puzzle games (like Quordle etc), coding, going for walks/bike riding, making slightly odd food combos in normal recipes and freaking out my friends on Discord with them, and watching horror/disaster films and playthroughs of horror games.

Maybe one day I would, but not at this particular time, sorry!

Thanks for asking as this is a bit of a grey type area! Personally, I think that as long as this is purely for your own use and you aren't going to on-sell it in any way...then it should be ok. I'm going to categorise something like this as somewhat similar to say...people printing out my art to stick to their wall type thing. Of course, if you ended up buying a bunch and then thought oh i have so many extra I'll sell them to whoever wants them - that would be a no no.

In what capacity lol if there's something I've learned from real life it's never agree or disagree to anything without knowing specifics. Eg if you would like to use my art as a PFP on tumblr then you can if you credit it, but if you want to use my art as a face claim for your own charac then i would have to say no, etc.

That makes two of us as i am not familiar with the twisted wonderland universe :P

.D: Diasomnia

Izm: Pomefiore

Wei Ren: Ignihyde

Zeke: Savanaclaw

Marcus: Diasomnia

I never really specified one so my friends and I have been calling it the fictional city of Hedone lol.

I haven't given up on HH, i just dont draw it nearly as much since i'm focussing on developing BP :) Anyway HH wasn't seriously planned to be a comic or anything (though technically...it does have a very loose storyline that I've alluded to in some drawings |D ) so it's something I can just jump back into and doodle whenever i feel like.

This was from a while back

It's pretty straightforward HH is a slice of life 'verse where my main characs are in an all boy's boarding school and Rire is the headmaster. It focuses on the boys shenanigans though so if you specifically like Rire you will be disappointed as he's barely in it.

I cut off this post cos I dont think the stuff in it should be shared with other random people even though anon is on anon. If this is you anon i hope you are doing well and i would genuinely encourage you to talk to someone about certain things (like a therapist maybe).

[gh0stly-mp3]

hi!!! your works are so damn interesting and well written, you are great in this regard!! can i ask, if you don't mind, sae, rin, reo, ness and kaiser with a calm gentleman s/o (headcanons but a scenario is good too)??? because they DESERVE the sweetest person in their life. just an s/o who takes care of them, does all sorts of gallant things like opening doors, pulling out chairs, like "flowers on dates are THE must" and so on??? i hope everything is fine with you, stay like that!!! 🩷

Hiii! Thanks! Especially for saying that my works are well-written, I'm trying to improve my English writing skills and this cheers me up a lot! ♡ - I love this idea btw, gentleman reader is one of my fav tropes :))

Love like you -> bllk hcs

bllk boys x s/o gn!reader

synopsis: how some bllk boys react to you being a gentleman to them and treating them well

tags: blue lock headcanons, fluff, comfort, gentle reader, calm reader, slice of life, kinda established relationship

warnings: manga spoilers, mature language

characters: sae, rin, reo, ness and kaiser + bonus: kurona

a/n: i love doing requests hehe (they're open btw)

masterlist.

Sae Itoshi ~ ♡

Sae would try not to show how much he loves when you take care of him and treat him like he's your prince (beacause he really is). But damn! He adores it! His favorite thing is when you bring him breakfast in bed.

He's used to being treated very cordially, always having people open doors and do everything for him, which he doesn't care much about. But, when you do it (because you love him and not because he's famous), he has conflicting feelings.

At the same time that he loves to feel personally cared for by you, he tries not to show it and keeps up the pose of "you're doing this because I'm a celebrity, not because you love me," but - deep down - his heart is warmed.

Rin Itoshi ~ ♡

Rin thinks you're so perfect, but It would take a long time for him to respond to your affection, but eventually he begins to appreciate your gentle actions and, when he has the courage, approaches you to be by your side.

He gets a little shy when you open doors or pull out chairs for him, but try not to show you. He's too afraid to get close to you and feel safe around you, just so that in the end you abandon him.

The greatest act of chivalry with Rin is to show him your love without wanting anything in return and giving him space in moments of vulnerability. The only vulnerable situation he lets you get close to him is when he's sick, where he lets you hold him.

Reo Mikage ~ ♡

People tend to treat Reo very well when they discover how many things can he buy before even looking the price. So when you showed him gentleness and care, he quickly asked - "how the hell did you know?" - but to his surprised, you didn't know about anything.

He tried to buy you things, thanking your time and consideration for his well being. But then you continued, and worse... You rejected his attemps to pay for your things.

That was a huge surprise, and after this, Reo started to get more and more nervous when you bought flowers for him. You were not serving him, you were not there for a reward, you were not interested in status. Rather, you were loving him for what and who he was.

Michael Kaiser ~ ♡

It's difficult for a prodigy to love anyone, as everybody is, technically, bellow him. Kaiser treats you well, better than he treats everyone else. But you don't let his false ego brush off your determination. Perhaps, one would need more than gentleness to get into his heart, but you know that's too much work for what he really needs. Actually, you were already inside. You just needed to make him understand how much you loved him.

So, you bring him flowers and gifts; you watch, careful, when both of you cross the street; you even brush his hair when he doesn't feel like it. But, unlike all the others, you aren't interested in the champion. You don't bow and let the title he grasps so hardly dominate you.

And he observes in horror the blue color of the roses on the table. And he turns his blushed cheeks away when a car passes by and you put your hands on his chest. And he inches with the warm of your hands on his hair. And he lets you love him, but refuses to step out of his cave.

You know he will, eventually.

Alexis Ness ~ ♡

Ness was confused, surprised and even a bit annoyed with the first time you pulled a chair for him. He was careful not to fall on a prank but when he sit, you simply smiled. He was used to serve you, never him, it was always about you. And suddenly, someone got a glass of water for him. For him. He didn't ask. He didn't even hint on anything. You simply said how hot it was. He must have been thirsty.

Now he gets irritated everytime you make something for him. You were paying attention to his needs, to his attempts on hiding everything so he can make you happy. But sometimes, you catch a glimpse of him staring at you, smiling. (he lovess it, but don't tell him that)

+ bonus

Kurona ~ ♡

He always blush when you open doors or pull out chairs for him, and whenever you do it, he places a shy kiss on your cheek or forehead.

[mrsnishimuraaa]

chemistry

PAIRING: riki x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: who knew a dance collab could create such a sweet bond between two idols?

GENRE: fluff , crack if u squint

this is not proofread (sorry) kind of short and a wee bit rushed but i have other works in the making i promise 😭

being in the idol industry was always going to be stressful why wouldent it be? but your worries almost always flush away when your able to dance. having met so many people that inspired you to get to where you are now enlightened you and encourages you to work hard. having danced ever since a young age and it being something you enjoy makes you love your job that extra bit more, and now you have the opportunity to work with nishimura riki who’s also known for his talent in dancing.

saying your excited is a understatement it’s so much more than that, but at the same time your nervous but you brush it off as you make your way into the HYBE building. the moment you make it upstairs to the practice rooms, your greeted by riki himself bowing and small hello’s fill the room as you both introduce yourselves. he leads you to the practice room where you assume your gonna be spending hours in for the next few weeks preparing for this award show, none the less you really don’t mind. the two of you sit in the middle of the room with a laptop, listening to songs and starting to think about what song your going to be performing. after what felt like a million years of search you had both come to terms with ‘been like this’ by doja cat. as it was already getting late, you decided to meet back in the morning to get a full day of choreographing together.

the following day your met in the same spot, having decided that you both wanted to work independently with each other , meaning there was no staff and no choreographer, just the two of you to figure it out on your own.

hours pass by and you have the basic of it all choreographed now you just have to add all the fine details and peice it all together. “your really a quick learner” riki shoots the complement at you, taking a sip out of his water bottle “ oh thank you, could say the same about you” letting out a breathy laugh. “god it’s so hot in here” you fan yourself as you scope the room for a fan or anything. “i know, hybe’s cooling system is broken at the moment” he laughs at the way you throw yourself onto the floor and sigh at his statement. “is this company not making millions” you sit up and he laughs, taking his hoodie off, leaving him in just a tank top and his baggy jeans.

whilst having your break you both snack and chat, cracking jokes and telling purposeless stories. the two of you have great chemistry not only in dance but in general. and when you get back to practicing the heat really gets to you “can i take my jumper off?” you ask purely just to make sure he’s comfortable with you being half naked “go for it, i would be barely surviving if i were you” he chuckles as he re sets the song back to the start over at the laptop. pulling your jumper over your head and throwing it over to pile with riki’s , leaving you in a provocatively small sports bra and your sweatpants.

riki can’t help but eye your figure down for a moment, admiring your flawless body as you adjust your pants to put them back in their original low rise position. but he quickly shoves those thoughts away when you speak “okay i’m ready” your bubbly giggle makes him smile. the playful side of the both of you starts to peek through as you get more comfortable with each other , but when explaining a small detail of the dance to you that you don’t get ends you up in a position of riki’s hands gently placed on your bare waist as he guides the movement, you watch in the mirror as he corrects your arm movement, yet still keeping his hand on your waist. (safe to say it took a while because you 100% were not focusing on the move at all-)

the ending of the dance finishes with body rolling against eachother, the synchronised movements are so satisfying to look at and especially as his hand snakes to rest on your waist as you move together. the song finishes and he immediately buries his face into your shoulder, hugging your waist as he practically collapses on you. “riki! your heavy” you joke, laughing as you try to scramble away but he only wraps his arms around you tighter, his tall frame encapsulating you.

he spins you to face him and you look up at his face, dark hair sticking to his forehead as his face shines slightly due to the sweat, the heat generated between the two bodies doubles as he brushes your hair behind your ear. “so pretty” he smiles at you and you can feel your cheeks grow redder. he slowly rocks you both side to side, it stifles a giggle from you, causing him to smile at you, god why are you so cute.

you manage to break free from his hold, laying down on the cold floor, he eyes you down whilst smirking “what” you laugh and look at him in question “nothing im just admiring you is that illegal” he jokes, pulling your legs to spin you on the floor, your laugh echoes through the room “help me up” you pretend to lay helpless infront of him, he rolls his eyes and offers his hand to you, as he grips your hand pulling you up, he wraps his arms around you once more. but this time when you go to look up at him he takes the chance and presses a soft kiss against your lips, the suprised yet flustered look on your face as your heart beats like it wants out of your chest. you pull him back into a soft, slow and intimate kiss.

his hands draw circles on your lower back as yours find themselves in his hair, soft and wet kisses being pressed against eachothers mouths as the sound of kissing fills the room. you have to stand on your tippy toes as he’s far to tall compared to you before pulling away to make eye contact with eachother and smile. he presses a kiss to your forehead, the intamacy of the moment immediately recharges your energy, but makes the room a hundred times hotter.

luckily (even after all the distractions) you were able to both go home with an award 2 weeks later, the hard work paying off and fans adoring the interaction of their favourite dancers, begging for more collaborations.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: The Yapper, The Listener

Pairing: KK Arnold x Reader

Fandom: UConn's women's basketball

Rating: Fluff | First-Person POV

Summary: kk has always been the yapper, til you

Word Count: 1.4k

If you had told me a year ago that I’d somehow out-yap KK Arnold, I would’ve laughed in your face. I mean, KK? The loudest, chattiest, most relentless talker on and off the court? The same KK who could trash talk you into a bad game without even breaking a sweat? Yeah, right.

But here I was, sitting across from her at our usual booth in the student union, rambling about the absolute disrespect I’d endured in my morning class while she sipped her smoothie, nodding along like I was delivering the most important speech of the century.

“And then, tell me why this man had the audacity to mark my paper down a whole five points just because I ‘lacked conciseness’—KK, can you believe that? Lack conciseness? Babe, I am a storyteller. I paint pictures with my words.”

KK hummed, swirling her straw around her cup. “Mhm. Can’t rush the art.”

“That’s what I’m saying! He just doesn’t get my vision!” I huffed, leaning back against the cushioned booth. “Anyway, that ruined my whole morning. I had to go get an iced coffee just to recover, and then—”

I paused, narrowing my eyes at her. “Wait a minute. You’re way too quiet. What’s going on? You’re supposed to be my hype man in situations like this. Where’s the outrage? The energy? The unnecessary side commentary?”

KK smirked, resting her chin in her palm. “I mean… I figured you had it covered, mamas.”

I squinted. “What does that mean?”

She reached across the table, tapping my lips with her thumb. “It means you yap more than me now.”

I gasped, clutching my chest like she’d personally offended me. “That’s crazy. That’s actually insane.”

KK just laughed, settling back in her seat. “I used to think nobody could out-talk me, but you? You be talkin’.”

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, you act like you don’t love hearing me talk.”

She shrugged, lips twitching. “I do. That’s why I let you.”

That made me pause. My mind ran back to how things had shifted. When we first started dating, KK and I had been on the same level when it came to running our mouths. We’d banter back and forth for hours, seeing who could get the last word in (spoiler: it was usually me). But somewhere along the way, she’d settled into this… listening role.

Not because she had nothing to say—KK always had something to say—but because she liked hearing me talk.

I felt my face heat up at the realization. “Wait… have I just been yapping at you nonstop for months and you let me?”

KK grinned. “Mhm. And I don’t even mind.”

I stared at her. “I feel like I should be embarrassed. But I’m not.”

She reached for my hand, playing with my fingers. “Don’t be. I like it.”

And just like that, I melted.

Basketball practice had ended an hour ago, but I was still sitting on the sideline, waiting for KK to finish getting shots up.

Correction: commentating while waiting.

“There she goes, folks, lining up for the free throw—she dribbles once, twice—oh, she hesitates. The tension in the air is thick. Will she make it? Will she fold under the pressure? The crowd holds its breath—”

The ball swished through the net effortlessly.

KK turned to me with an unimpressed look. “You doubting me, mamas? That’s crazy.”

I grinned. “Never that, baby. Just setting the scene.”

She jogged over, resting her hands on her hips. “You ever thought about a career in commentary? You already talk enough for the both of us.”

I gasped dramatically. “So you admit I took your spot as the biggest yapper?”

KK shrugged, tapping my knee. “Go ‘head and take the title, baby. I like hearing you talk. You keep me entertained.”

I tilted my head at her, softening. “You really mean that?”

KK rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness there. “Yeah. Your voice is my favorite.”

Damn. How did she always make me feel like the luckiest person alive?

Later that night, we were curled up in my dorm, KK stretched out on my bed while I laid half on top of her, tracing patterns on her arm.

“I’m just saying, if you’re gonna sit there all quiet while I talk, I feel like you owe me commentary of some kind.”

KK raised a brow. “What kind of commentary?”

I huffed. “I dunno. Like little affirmations. ‘Mhm, that’s crazy’ isn’t gonna cut it all the time.”

She laughed. “Oh, so now you need me to hype you up while you talk? You getting greedy, mamas.”

I pouted, looking up at her. “I just like hearing your voice too.”

KK smirked before leaning down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Okay. Next time you go on a rant, I’ll gas you up properly.”

I smiled, satisfied. “Good. Because I’ve been holding in a rant about how the dining hall got rid of my favorite cereal and I need you fully engaged.”

KK chuckled, wrapping her arms around me tighter. “I’m all ears, baby.”

And just like that, I went right back to talking, knowing she’d listen to every word.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: Still the same.

Chapter 28- 'Safe Now' | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 12.9 k

The house party had fallen into complete and utter chaos. Jess stood off to the side watching it all unfold with Megan beside her. She rolled her eyes looking on as you sobbed into Trent, his hands bloodied, Jack attentively speaking with the police, Josh licking his wounds as he got escorted out of the house, Noah consoling a terrified Layla, Devon still on the phone. Out of the corner of her eye Megan caught the reaction. 

“Jess, what the fuck…”  Megan asked, confused why her best friend just rolled her eyes looking at you bruised and battered. 

“They all protect her like she’s five years old.” Jess quipped very clearly disinterested in your wellbeing. 

“Jess, they protect her like someone has hurt her… Like someone has abused her.” Megan corrected her, annoyance and anger evident in her voice, and empathy for you in her eyes. 

“Abuse? Please.” Jess scoffed with a shake of her head. “Whatever, it used to happen to her all the time and no one said shit before this whole "relationship." Before T decided she was something she’s not.” Jess complained, taking another jab at you all whilst revealing she’d known about the way Josh had treated you.

“Sorry?” Megan looked at her gobsmacked. 

“Oh Meg, come on. You didn’t see the way Josh would throw her around?”  Jess snickered with a devious grin watching your body shake in Trent’s hold. Meanwhile, Megan’s voice cracked as she turned to Jess. The realization of everything that had been going on hit her like a ton of bricks. 

“Jess, you knew about the way he treated her? The abuse?” Her voice was strained, a mixture of hurt and disbelief. “What the fuck?…. You don’t have to like her, that’d beside the point… Y/N aside, knowing that’s going on and not saying anything is fucked up” Megan yelped feeling betrayed by her best friend. Jess rolled her eyes again, as if she had no remorse for the situation unfolding around her. 

“Is it?” she sneered, the venom in her voice unmistakable. “Because some people… I don't know, kind of deserve it, don’t they?” Jess explained her rationale, clearly believing it. Megan’s face twisted in disgust, clearly disagreeing. 

“Fuck you! You knew about this, you bitch” Layla interjected, after overhearing, shoving Jess. Jess’s back hit the marble bar top behind her. 

“Ow, you cunt. Fucking psycho, that hurt!” Jess yelped. The tension in the air was thick, and the atmosphere felt like it was on the edge of shattering. Layla, who had been at the center of the emotional whirlwind all night, couldn’t hold it in anymore. Thankfully someone else was going to intervene to prevent another fight breaking out. 

“Aye! Aye! Aye! C’mere,” Noah yelled, trying to prevent another explosion between Layla and Jess, dragging Layla back into him, leaving Jess standing a few paces away, looking frustrated and defensive, and inappropriately strangely offended. Jess’s smirk had faltered, but the bitterness in her gaze hadn’t gone anywhere. Layla collapsed into Noah’s arms, her sobs racking her body. He held her tightly, trying to offer comfort despite the mess of emotions swirling around them.

“Jess, I can’t… I can’t be friends with someone like that… I… I… can’t be your friend anymore.” Megan’s words were quiet, but they rang with finality.  Her jaw was slack, just in utter shock. She took a step back, as if the physical distance could help her emotionally detach from the girl she once thought she knew. “This is too much. You’ve done too much.” Then Jess’s smirk faltered for just a moment, her defenses cracking as she realized Megan wasn’t backing down, in fact, she was backing out. 

“You don’t understand, Meg. You don’t get it.” Jess babbled trying to buy time to come up with an excuse that’d salvage a friendship.

“No,” Megan said, shaking her head, her voice firm. “I get it, Jess. You let someone suffer. You let a man hurt a woman. You willingly let that happen…” Her voice wavered slightly but grew stronger with every word. “And you know what? I’m done.” She wiped a tear from her cheek, turning away from Jess. Layla’s sobs grew more desperate hearing them, the reality of your situation reduced down to ‘a man hurting a woman,’ it didn’t feel like enough. Noah could feel the weight of her emotions in his own chest. 

“I gotcha,” He whispered softly, gently rocking Layla back and forth as she clung to him, her hands gripping his shirt tightly. 

When Devon awkwardly came back, he took a deep breath and moved closer to them, trying to assess the situation. He tensed up when he saw Noah consoling Layla, his mind racing with uncertainty. He wasn’t sure how to react. He didn’t want to intrude, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that Layla was falling apart right in front of him and comforted by someone else.

“Layla… we should probably head out,” Devon suggested gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His words were careful, trying not to add any more weight to an already fragile situation but trying to take back something he thought he wanted. Noah’s hold on Layla loosened slightly, giving her the opportunity to go freely but she clung to him even harder, her grip tightening as if she feared losing him, or worse, losing herself in the storm of everything that had happened.

“I… I can’t. I’m sorry, no,” Layla whimpered, her voice broken and raw. The words were barely audible, but they hit both Noah and Devon hard. Noah hesitated, his heart aching for her. He looked down at her, unsure of what else to say or do. Devon stood silently, exchanging sympathetic glances with Noah. He knew Layla was in a fragile state, and he didn’t want to push her. His own discomfort was palpable, but he tried to mask it.

“It’s cool, bro. As long as she’s good,” Devon said quietly to Noah, his voice steady but laced with concern. His attempt to brush off the awkwardness was clear, but it didn’t quite work. He didn’t want to make a bigger deal of it than it already was. Layla and his potential romance really wasn’t the concern tonight, especially not to Layla. Devon was trying not to take it personally. Noah nodded, still unsure of the best course of action. He wasn’t sure what was driving Layla’s need to cling to him, whether it was the trauma of the night, the need for comfort, or something else entirely. He figured it was just that she needed to be with someone she trusted, someone who understood her, even if he didn’t fully understand her emotions at the moment and why he was the one she wanted. He could feel the weight of the night pressing down on both of them, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed between them all. They stood there for a long moment, in an uncomfortable silence. Devon didn’t object. He just nodded, stepping back and allowing Noah the space to comfort Layla. They all felt the gravity of the situation, but for now, the most important thing was making sure everyone was okay, and doing whatever that took.

The room felt suffocating, like everything that had just transpired had pressed the air out of the space. Jack was still speaking with police officers, as you clung to Trent on the ground. You looked almost unrecognizable, your eyes swollen shut from tears, bruising beginning to purple from Josh’s hands on you, your top ripped, Trent’s hands holding you, but simultaneously leaving behind a soft trace of soft still coming from his knuckles. All of it was amplified by Layla’s sobs echoing softly in Noah’s ears, and he could feel the tremble in her body as she clung to him. It wasn’t just the weight of the night; it was everything coming to the surface—her frustration, fear, the weight of everything she had witnessed, everything she felt for you. She was unraveling, and he couldn’t look away. Noah’s arms held her gently, but his mind was a blur. He wasn’t sure what to do. He hadn’t been expecting this, hadn’t prepared himself for the emotional gravity of the situation. He’d never expected things to come to this. Come to something so serious. He had always been the lighthearted one, keeping things in check, but now? He was standing at a crossroads. He was hurting for you and Trent, and Jack, now Layla needed him... and what if he might've needed her too.

“Noah…” Her soft, desperate voice broke through his thoughts. He leaned in, trying to find some calmness to anchor the situation. 

“Hmm? You want me to get you back home or you to Jack and Y/N’s?” Noah offered sweetly, brushing past his own emotion. But she shook her head, and Noah felt a slight chill. There was something more here. Something deeper than just the chaos of the night. His gaze softened as he tried to make sense of it. “Devon’s?” he asked quietly, his mind grasping for a logical answer. But the tension in Layla’s body told him she wasn’t thinking logically right now. “Just gotta get his address for me. Just wherever you want, alright Lay?” He whispered. She was overwhelmed. She needed something, someone, to ground her. He wasn’t sure where that was going to be, but he wanted to help.

“Yours,” Layla whimpered.  Noah’s body stiffened holding her, something shifted in him. He froze, his entire body stiffening, his heart thudding louder in his chest. Her words were soft, vulnerable, and they hit him in a way he didn’t expect.

“Ah… Lays,” he stammered, not sure if that was a good idea but she was already pressing into him more, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Please,” she begged, and Noah could hear the rawness of her plea, her quivering lip breaking through the last of her control. In that moment, Noah knew he couldn’t turn her away. Despite the confusion, the weight of his own feelings, and the uncertainty of what this might lead to, he couldn’t let her go.  Noah hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of Layla’s distress. He had never seen her this vulnerable, and it weighed heavily on him. He’d known her for years, but tonight, everything felt different. As she sobbed against him, his protective instincts kicked in, but at the same time, the tension in the air made him question his decision. He knew that taking her to his place would complicate things further, but her pleading eyes made him relent.

“Yeah, alright,” he murmured, squeezing her tighter, his voice thick with emotion he hadn’t anticipated. He wanted to say more, to ask questions, to try and make sense of what was happening, but he didn’t. He accepted trying to do anything to deescalate tonight, although in his right mind this felt like opening a can of worms.  Tonight wasn’t about figuring it out. It was about being there for her, letting her lean on him when everything was falling apart around them. He didn’t want to overthink it, even though he knew this was going to lead them down a path they hadn’t expected. But for now, in the quiet of this moment, he just held Layla. And that was enough. Layla’s sobs slowly softened, and she nodded weakly against his chest. She wasn’t looking for an answer from him. She just needed to feel safe, needed something familiar. Noah pulled back slightly, brushing his hand through her hair and wiping away the stray tears that had fallen down her cheeks. He wasn’t sure what this would mean for them, for his relationship with Layla, if there was one. He had never imagined he’d be the one comforting her like this, not in this context.

“I’m here, Lays,” he whispered, his voice soft. “I’m not going anywhere.” His mind was racing with questions he wasn’t sure he had answers to. Noah’s thoughts kept drifting between the night’s chaos and the way Layla clung to him like a lifeline. He wasn’t sure if he was the right person to help her through this, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone. He gently guided her out of the room, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to bring any more attention to themselves. The night had already spiraled out of control, and Noah wasn’t sure what the next steps would be. But for now, all that mattered was making sure Layla was okay. That was all he could focus on.

The party, which had already turned into an emotional minefield, was officially a wreck. People were starting to trickle out, some of the boys from the group still standing in stunned silence, unsure of how to react. The only thing that seemed certain was the mess of relationships, friendships, and trust that had been irreparably shattered. But as the last echoes of chaos subsided, Trent was there, by your side, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. And though things felt broken, in that moment, at least you weren’t alone.

When Noah and Layla arrived to his place, he flicked on the lights, his voice light but cautious. “Alright, home sweet home.” He muttered, scratching the back of his head as he stepped aside to let Layla in first.  Layla, still shaken by the evening, wasn’t really in the present moment but she was taken aback by the organization of it all. She’d been over before, she thought she had at least, but there were always boys there, beers everywhere, balls being kicked around, the tv on. But right now, it was so clean. She anticipated a space full of clutter, leftover takeout, and the remnants of last night’s entertainment. But as she walked further inside, her brows furrowed slightly in surprise. It was immaculate. The living room was tidy, pillows arranged perfectly on the sofa, no stray bottles or misplaced shoes in sight. Even the air smelled fresh, clean. She blinked. Noah caught her staring, a bashful chuckle escaping him.  “Okay, so…” he exhaled, shifting on his feet. “I don’t really have much… stuff for when a girl comes over.” He earnestly admitted. Layla’s lips twitched at his awkwardness mostly because it was so uncharacteristic but before she could say anything, he rushed to clarify, waving a hand. It wasn't like Noah wasn't hooking up with people ever. It was more of a preferred way of living. He wasn't exactly keeping extra towels around just for them. “Nah, fuck off. That’s not—what I mean is, I don’t like extra stuff. I just—I like my things neat and tidy.” Layla let out a soft giggle, stepping further into the him. 

“I can tell.” She teased, her eyes scanning the space as they made their way upstairs. His bedroom was just as pristine, the bed perfectly made, not a thing out of place. She glanced at him, tilting her head. “This is… not what I expected.” She giggled. Noah scoffed, smirking as he leaned against the doorway. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Thought I was a mess, didn’t ya?” He teased with a smirk. It was a soft remnant of normalcy but at the same time, it was a reminder of how incredibly abnormal the night had been. 

“I mean… a little.”  Layla shrugged, grinning. He rolled his eyes dramatically before nodding toward the bed. 

“Alright, you take my room, I’ll grab the couch. Good?” He instructed her. There was an elephant in the room but they were both going to ignore it best they could.

“Are you sure?” Layla hesitated. Noah dug through a dresser drawer finding a shirt. He turned with a smile and tossed it to Layla. 

“Beauty sleep and all that, you know? Look at me—” he gestured to himself with a smirk. “I could use a night on the couch, it’s starting to get unfair.” He cheekily laughed.

“You’re so obnoxious.”   Layla let out a giggle, shaking her head with a smitten smile, grabbing the shirt.

“Some call it endearing.” He shot back effortlessly. Layla bit her lip, shaking her head fondly before meeting his gaze. 

“Count me as some.” She murmured. Noah’s smirk softened, something unreadable flashing across his expression for a brief moment before he gave her a small nod. Noah ran a tired hand down his face, exhaling as he moved around the room, the weight of the night still heavy on his shoulders.

After teeth were brushed, and lights beginning to turn off, Layla lay tucked into his bed, the covers pulled up to her chin, watching him through tired eyes as he grabbed his glasses from his nightstand. He looked exhausted—worn from everything that had happened.

“Alright, get some rest, Lay.” He cooed.  She exhaled, exhaustion finally hitting her as she settled into the bed.  She glanced down at the oversized t-shirt she was wearing, the fabric soft and smelling like him. Guilt tugged at her chest as she watched him stretch his shoulders, rubbing at the tension in his neck. She hated the thought of him sleeping on the couch when there was enough space for both of them.

“Noah… you can stay.” Layla murmured, voice soft in the quiet of the room. It was olive branch, but simultaneously a devil's offer. Noah stilled, his hands dropping to his sides as his gaze met hers. 

“Yeah? You sure?” His voice was hesitant, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. But internally he was biting at the bit. Layla simply nodded, shifting onto her side in silent invitation. He hesitated for a moment longer before sighing and switching off another light, then crossed the room to the bed. As he crawled in, he kept a safe distance, lying on his back, one arm draped over his stomach. The space between them wasn’t uncomfortable—it felt natural, unspoken trust settling between them. For a long moment, they just stared at each other in the dim light filtering through the curtains. It wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt grounding. Then, Layla’s voice broke the silence. 

“You always take care of everyone, Noah. Who takes care of you?” She asked. Noah’s breath hitched slightly, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t have an immediate answer. Nothing quick witted came to mind. The question hit somewhere deep, somewhere he didn’t often acknowledge. Being the middle child in a big family, he’d always been the peacekeeper, the one who looked out for everyone else. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

“Ah, I’m a big boy, Lay. I’ll be alright.” He attempted to brush it off, forcing a small smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Layla exhaled softly, her voice laced with something that sounded a lot like understanding.

“Yeah… but we all appreciate it. I appreciate it.” She whispered. Noah didn’t respond, just stared at the ceiling, something warm settling in his chest at her words. She meant them. He could feel it. Layla shifted, rolling onto her side, facing away from him. Noah turned his head slightly, watching the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders before letting out a slow breath,

“Will be alright.” Noah leaned over and kissed her hair. A gesture that innately he hadn’t had thought twice about but it was loaded now, they were in bed. Noah's lips had barely grazed the back of her head before his brain short-circuited. Shit. Shit. Shit. He cursed himself instantly, eyes snapping shut as if he could undo the moment. Layla stiffened, the silence stretching for what felt like eternity. "... sorry Lay... I...." His voice was rough, hesitant, already preparing to get pied off and laughed at. Layla didn't turn to look at him, but her voice was soft, almost shy when she spoke.

"You're really sweet, Noah." She told him gently. His heart pounded. He should've left it at that— should've rolled away, thrown himself off the bed, maybe out the window. Instead, she spoke again, quiet and unsure. "Noah... do you... do you like a cuddle?" He exhaled, relief washing over him but it was laced with trepidation.

"Yeah, 'course." He told her. Layla didn't move. She just lay there, waiting, as if silently asking him to do something about it. Noah swallowed hard. "Would a cuddle make you feel any better tonight?" His voice was softer now, more careful. She nodded over her shoulder. Noah was fucked-and he knew it the second she arched her back, just enough for him to pull her against him properly. His hands slid around her waist pulling her into him, unintentionally dragging up the oversized t-shirt she was wearing, his shirt. He hadn't meant to, but Layla didn't stop him. "Better?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper. Layla hummed in response, melting into his touch. Letting his hands begin to wander-skimming her thighs, the dip of her waist, the curve of her ass.

And then he heard the most perfect thing he’d ever heard in his life, Layla whined. Noah nearly lost it, his mind went bank. "Yeah, you're good." He murmured, lips ghosting over the back of her neck. Every muscle in his body was tense, but his touch remained slow, careful. "Just wanna make sure you're good." He whsipered. Layla barely managed a breathy response. 

"Yeah, I'm good." She whined. But then she moved. Intentionally. Grinding her ass back against him, slow and deliberate. Noah clenched his jaw. He was fighting demons. The way her body fit against his, the heat of her pressing back on his already rock-hard dick, the way she whimpered so softly, he thought he might die right there.

"Good girl." He spoke and Layla was very much so in the same boat as him. She swore she blacked out for a second. This was Noah-silly, goofy, Noah. The same one who gave her shit for everything, made every joke on the table. And yet, right now, he was none of those things. He was careful, but firm. Gentle, but commanding. His hands weren't just holding her anymore-they were learning her. Her pussy was throbbing, desperate for something, anything. She barely recognized the noises leaving her lips, soft little whimpers that only spurred Noah on. Meanwhile, Noah was struggling. Every instinct in him wanted to flip her over, push her thighs apart, wreck her. But he didn't. He held himself back, settling for pressing his mouth against her skin, letting his fingers roam just enough to drive her crazy. He didn't know what the fuck was happening between them, but he knew one thing— Layla was ruining him.

When you all stepped back into your house, the silence was oppressive, almost deafening. It wasn’t the comforting kind of quiet that accompanied safety—it was heavy, suffocating, and filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. Trent carried you in, his strong arms holding you as securely as he could. Your face stayed buried in the nape of his neck, where it had been for what felt like hours. He didn’t mind. He’d have carried you forever if it meant you didn’t have to feel the weight of the world pressing down on you. The house was dark, every shadow stretching out like a reminder of the emptiness you felt inside. Even with Trent’s steady heartbeat against your cheek and Jack’s concerned presence lingering nearby, the void within you consumed everything. Trent shifted slightly, his voice low and soft, like he was afraid to disturb whatever fragile piece of you was holding on. 

“I’m gonna take her upstairs,” he whispered to Jack. Jack nodded quickly, his own voice equally hushed. 

“Yeah, course.” He stepped closer, his gaze darting to you, searching for any sign of recognition, of acknowledgment. “Y/N…” he whispered, crouching slightly to meet your height in Trent’s arms. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? We’re here, and you’re safe.” His voice was gentle, his tone pleading for some sort of response, some proof that you were still there with them. Jack leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if the gesture alone could transfer his strength to you. But you didn’t respond. You didn’t flinch or pull away. You didn’t nod or hum. You remained still, silent, completely withdrawn. Trent adjusted his hold on you, his grip firm yet tender as he carried you up the stairs. Jack watched after the two of you, his heart heavy, wishing he could take the pain from you, share the burden somehow.

Upstairs, Trent moved slowly, as though every step might break the fragile stillness surrounding you. He pressed another soft kiss to your temple as he reached the bedroom.

 “I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe now.” He whispered opening the door. But even those words, the ones you always believed when they came from him, couldn’t reach you—not yet. You stayed curled into him, as small as you could make yourself, lost in the dark and quiet, hoping for the light to find you again. “Alright, let’s get you to bed, baby,” Trent murmured softly, his voice calm despite the storm of emotions raging inside him. His hand throbbed, his knuckles bruised and aching, and his face still stung from the earlier confrontation, but none of it mattered—not when he looked at you. His heart clenched at the sight of your fragile state, your tear-streaked face buried in his neck, your body trembling against his. He carried you further into the room like you weighed nothing, your trust in him the only thing grounding him in the moment. Carefully, he lowered you onto the bed, but the moment your body hit the mattress, the dam inside you broke. A guttural sob tore from your throat, and tears began streaming down your face all over again. You reached out for him desperately, your fingers clutching at his shirt, clinging to him as though you were afraid he might disappear. “Hey, hey, I’m here,” Trent whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he settled down on the bed beside you. He reached for your hands, holding them firmly but gently, as if anchoring you to him. His eyes scanned your face, taking in every inch of your pain, his own heart fracturing under the weight of it. “You don’t want me to let go?” You shook your head frantically, burying your face into his chest as your cries grew louder. 

“No, T,” you choked out between sobs, your voice small and broken.

“Okay, okay,” Trent murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, cradling you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever, baby. I promise. I’ve got you.” For a while, he just held you, letting you cry against him as his hands rubbed soothing circles over your back. Every now and then, he pressed soft kisses to the top of your head, whispering reassurances into your hair. “You’re safe now, baby. It’s over. I’m here.” Eventually, when your sobs began to quiet, Trent gently pulled back to look at you. His fingers came up to brush away the tears from your cheeks, his touch so soft it felt like a whisper against your skin. “Can I get you into some different clothes, pretty girl?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a murmur. “Might make you feel a little better. Little comfier, cozier.” He tried to smile but it was hard. You didn’t respond, only whimpered quietly as your body trembled in his arms. Trent let out a shaky breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I know, I know,” he said gently, his tone soothing as his fingers stroked your hair. “C’mon, I’ll help you. I’ve got you, baby.” Moving carefully, as if you might shatter under his touch, Trent began peeling your clothes off. His heart sank as he saw the bruises littering your skin, the harsh marks standing out like cruel reminders of the nightmare you’d just endured. When his eyes landed on the cut near your collarbone—where Josh had torn your necklace off—his breath caught in his throat. He turned his head away for a moment, his jaw clenching as tears filled his eyes. He blinked them back quickly, swallowing down the anger and guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. You didn’t need his pain right now. You needed his strength. “Do you want to shower, baby? Or is that too much right now?” he asked gently, his voice thick with emotion. 

“No, T… I just want you.” You shook your head quickly, your voice breaking as you whispered. The sheer vulnerability in your voice broke him. 

“Alright, alright. I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” Trent said softly, his hands trembling slightly as he grabbed one of his oversized shirts. He slipped it over your head carefully, the familiar scent of him surrounding you like a protective cocoon. Once you were covered, Trent quickly peeled off his own clothes, leaving himself in just his boxers. He pulled down the sheets and climbed into bed beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms. He tucked the blanket around both of you, his strong arms wrapping around you as he held you close to his chest. Your head rested against his shoulder, your body curled into his as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers threaded gently through your hair, his touch slow and soothing as he whispered to you.

“I’ve got you,” Trent murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. You’re safe now, yeah? I promise you, you’re safe.” Your breathing eventually began to even out, though your body still trembled slightly against him. He held you tighter, his hand moving in slow circles over your back. “Not letting go, baby,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your temple. “Not tonight, not ever.” You nestled against Trent’s chest, your head tucked under his chin as his arms wrapped around you protectively. His steady heartbeat echoed in your ear, grounding you amidst the swirling chaos of your mind. The warmth of his body and the way he held you felt like a lifeline, tethering you to safety when everything else felt broken. “I love you,” Trent whispered, his voice soft and trembling with emotion. “I love you more than anything in the world. You’re everything to me, baby.” His words washed over you like a balm, soothing yet bittersweet. Your heart ached, a deep, raw pain that mirrored the soreness in your body, but Trent’s voice kept pulling you back, reminding you that you weren’t alone in this. And then, as if trying to fill the empty, aching spaces inside you, Trent began listing every reason why he loved you.

“I love because of everything that you are, pretty girl. You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair between words. “You’re so sweet, nicest girl I know, you care so much about everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. I love how smart you are, how funny you are. I love how you light up a room without even trying.” His voice cracked slightly, but he kept going, his hand rubbing slow, gentle circles on your back. “I love the way you laugh, the way you smile at me like I’m the only person in the world. I love to make you smile, baby. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I used to come over and just pray you’d be home, just so I could sit next to you, make you happy, keep you happy.” Trent ached recalling how you two grown up together and all he wanted was to keep you happy and yet here you were crumbling in his arms. You cried harder listening to him but he kept going. You needed to know. “I love how you’re always there for people, even when it’s hard. And I love how you let me be there for you, like now. I love you, baby, more than I’ll ever be able to say.” You listened in silence, tears streaming down your face as you burrowed closer into his chest. His words carried so much love, so much tenderness, it was almost unbearable. You cried harder, the weight of everything crashing down all at once. “I’ve got you,” Trent murmured, his voice steady even as his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. “Always.” His lips found your hair, pressing soft, lingering kisses there as he held you tighter, yet with so much care it felt as if he thought you might break. His hands never stopped moving, tracing slow, comforting patterns across your back. Eventually, your sobs began to quiet, exhaustion overtaking you as Trent’s warmth and gentle reassurances lulled you into sleep. Your breathing evened out, your body going limp in his arms as you finally found some semblance of peace. Trent stayed still for a moment, his chest rising and falling steadily as he looked down at you. Your tear-streaked cheeks glistened in the faint light, your lips slightly parted, your face still etched with the pain you carried even in sleep. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears filled Trent’s eyes, spilling over as he shut them tightly, his chest heaving with quiet, shaky breaths. He pressed another kiss to your hair, the salt of his tears mingling with your scent.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you closer. “I love you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry, baby.” He cried silently, his tears dampening your hair as he stroked your back, his thumb brushing over a small bruise on your arm. The sight of your battered body and the weight of your pain tore at his heart, and all he could do was hold you, hoping his presence would be enough to start piecing you back together. “I’ll fix this,” he murmured softly, his voice a quiet vow. “I don’t know how, but I’ll fix this. I’ll keep you safe. Always.” Trent stayed awake for hours, his tears eventually drying as he held you close. Every now and then, he’d press another kiss to your hair, his lips lingering as if he could somehow pour all his love and apologies into you through that simple touch.And as the night stretched on, Trent whispered one final promise into the quiet room: “I’ll never let you hurt like this again. I swear, baby. Never again.”

It was late into the morning, it was actually leaning into the afternoon when Jack knocked gently on your bedroom door.  Trent barely heard it. Jack opened the door seeing that he heard no sound on the other side. Jack stepped into the doorway, his face etched with concern as he took in the sight before him. The room was dim, the curtains still drawn, letting in only a sliver of the afternoon light. You were completely draped over Trent, your body molded to his like you couldn't bear even the smallest distance. Trent was awake, but his entire focus was on you-his hands never stopping their slow, soothing strokes along your back, his lips pressing gentle kisses into your hair every so often, murmuring soft ‘I love yous’ like a prayer. 

“Yo.” Jack whispered quietly, nodding to grab Trent's attention off you, if only for a moment. Trent glanced over, his tired eyes meeting Jack's as he reached out a hand, silently dapping his mate up. It was a simple greeting, but there was a quiet understanding between them-Jack was checking in, making sure Trent was alright too. But the moment Trent's hand left you, you stirred, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you instinctively sought out his touch again. Your body shifted on top of him, nuzzling into his chest, your arms tightening around him as if to pull him back. Trent immediately brought his hand back to you, rubbing slow circles into your back again.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm here," Trent whispered, his voice impossibly soft, his lips brushing your forehead. Jack watched, something deep in his chest aching at the sight. He had never seen you so vulnerable before, so completely dependent on someone else's presence just to feel safe. And he had never seen Trent like this either-his usual confidence stripped away, his entire being consumed by the need to comfort you, to protect you.

"She get any sleep last night?" Jack looked at you, keeping his voice low. Trent nodded, but his eyes were still full of exhaustion. Trent let out a slow breath, looking down at you. Even in sleep, you still looked troubled, your brow slightly furrowed, your grip on him impossibly tight. He hated it-hated that you were hurting like this, hated that he couldn't take it all away.

"Yeah... cried herself to sleep, but she's been in and out for a while now." His hand never stopped moving on your back, keeping you tethered to the safety of his touch. "She's not let go of me once, though." Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

"I figured. Just wanted to check on you both." He hesitated before adding, "When she wakes up, I'lI make sure there's food, yeah? She'll need it." Trent nodded, a silent thank you passing between them.  The room stayed dimly lit, the curtains still drawn, keeping the world outside at bay. The only sound was your steady breathing, though even in sleep, your body remained curled into Trent’s, as if afraid to let go. His hands never stopped moving, rubbing slow circles along your back, grounding you in whatever way he could. His own body ached—his swollen hand throbbed, his face bruised and sore—but none of it mattered compared to the way you clung to him. “Brought you some ice too…” Jack held up an ice pack Trent hadn't noticed was in his hand.

“Thanks, bro. Probably a little late now… swollen already.” Trent exhaled, a tired chuckle escaping his lips as he nodded down at his bruised hand on your back. Jack shrugged, setting it down on the nightstand.

“Yeah, well, if you want it, it’s here.” He hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering down to where you lay on Trent’s chest, his arms locked protectively around you. His voice dropped even lower. “How’s she been, seriously?” He asked, looking for more. Trent sighed, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder absentmindedly. 

“The same as,” he admitted, his voice thick with exhaustion. “Obviously rattled, but she’s just been sleeping… if she wakes up, she cries for a bit and then back to sleep.” Jack gave a sad, knowing nod, his brows furrowing as he reached out, gently brushing a piece of hair from your face. You barely stirred, just nestled deeper into Trent, as if even in your sleep, you knew where you were safest. Trent’s voice softened even more, his grip tightening around you instinctively. “If I take my hands off her, asleep or not, she freaks out, so…” Jack inhaled sharply, shaking his head. 

“Jesus.” His voice was barely above a whisper, a mix of anger and sorrow laced in the single word. Trent’s jaw tensed, his gaze fixed on you. 

“I don’t even know, mate… this is…” But his sentence trailed off into nothing, because there weren’t words for it. Jack sat on the edge of the bed, watching his sister— someone he used to think of a strong—curled up like a wounded animal, looking anything but. 

“It’s awful,” he admitted. “But she trusts you. She just feels safer with you after last night. She always has.” Trent swallowed hard, nodding. 

“It was fucking awful, but she should trust me. I love her. I tried to protect her, mate.” Trent tried to explain. Jack met his eyes, nodding with quiet conviction. 

“I know, mate. You did.” Jack confirmed sincerely. Silence settled between them again, thick and heavy. Trent shifted slightly beneath you, hesitating before lowering his voice, not wanting to wake you, as if an inch more of space between you would make it so you couldn’t hear, what he was going to ask.

“Any word on…” He didn’t say the name, he didn’t even need to say Josh’s name. He didn’t have to. Jack already knew. Jack’s jaw clenched.

“Said charging him with assault and extortion.” Jack explained. Trent’s brows shot up in surprise. 

“Really?” He said low but surprised. He had expected Josh to walk away unscathed, like he always did. The fact that something was actually sticking this time? It stunned him. Jack nodded. 

“Yeah, I mean, obviously the physical evidence on her from what he did that night was obvious to them, he had her under his fingertips." Jack swallowed and Tfrent winced. It was just as brutal to hear as it was to say. "And all the other times—she had photos of, so I grabbed those. And then Ty got all the video stuff sorted. So.” He shrugged, like it was nothing, but Trent knew how much effort it must’ve taken to pull all of that together over just last night. Trent let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Wow…” His arms subconsciously tightened around you, like holding you closer could erase all the damage that had been done.

“Yeah…” Jack exhaled, rubbing his face before standing up. “It’s good though, mate." Trent nodded. "Need anything?” He asked. Trent shook his head.

“Nah. Just gonna chill for a bit. See what she feels up to later. Sorry. Hope that’s—” Jack cut him off with a look.

 “Bro, it’s cool.” He said but then paused. His voice softened as he looked at you again. “Thanks for being there for her.” Trent glanced down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“There was never a choice, mate. She’s everything to me.” Trent let out a deep breath, adjusting his grip on you as you stirred slightly in your sleep. His hands, despite their own aches, instinctively resumed their slow, comforting strokes along your back. Jack stood beside the bed, watching the two of you with a mixture of sadness and quiet admiration. “But Jack…” Trent spoke, causing Jack to pause. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” Trent murmured after a moment, shaking his head. “There was no world where I wasn’t going to be there for her.” His voice was firm, unwavering. Jack nodded, rubbing a hand over his jaw, his expression unreadable. 

“I know,” he said simply. “But still.” A beat of silence passed between them, heavy with the weight of the last twenty-four hours. Trent glanced at the ice pack on the nightstand, then at his swollen hand, but he made no move to take it. His priorities were elsewhere. Jack noticed. 

“You should at least put that on for a bit,” he said, nodding toward it. Trent let out a small, humorless chuckle. 

“Hurts like hell, but it’s nothing compared to…” His voice trailed off as he looked down at you, his chest tightening. Jack sighed. 

“Yeah, I get it.” He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “She’ll be okay, you know.” Trent swallowed hard, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on your back. 

“I hope so,” he whispered, almost like he was afraid to say it too loudly. Like the thought of you not being okay was too much to bear. Jack looked at him, really looked at him. 

“She will be,” he reassured. “She’s got you.” Trent met Jack’s gaze, something unspoken passing between them—an understanding, a shared promise. Jack had done everything he could to ensure Josh faced the consequences. And now, it felt like it was Trent’s turn to do what he did best—love you, protect you, make sure you never had to feel that kind of fear again. Jack gave Trent’s shoulder a firm squeeze before stepping back. 

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” he said before slipping out of the room, leaving the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of each other. Trent exhaled slowly, shifting just enough to press a lingering kiss to your forehead as he tightened his arms around you.

The cinema room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from the screen in front of you. Trent had managed to convince you to leave the bed, but not much had changed—you were still draped over him, wrapped up in his arms like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. His fingers traced soft, absentminded circles on your back, his lips occasionally pressing against your hair. Then, a quiet voice broke through the silence.

“Hii…” Layla’s whisper sang through the room as she stepped in, careful not to disrupt the fragile peace. She approached with a soft smile, her eyes scanning the way you clung to Trent, how his arms cradled you protectively. She sat down next to you both, reaching out with gentle hands. “Can I have a cuddle too?” she asked, her tone light but full of love. She squeezed your arm gently, and Trent kissed your hair, nudging you ever so slightly, encouraging you to shift toward your best friend. Reluctantly, you lifted your head, sitting up on Trent’s lap and Layla pulled you into her arms, her warmth wrapping around you. You sniffled, your body weak against hers. “Oh babe…” Layla whined, holding you tighter. She hated this—hated how fragile you felt, hated that she could feel the weight of what had happened in your trembling frame.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t even know why you were apologizing, but the embarrassment, the shame, it all sat heavy on your chest. Layla sighed softly, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as she kissed your cheek. She hated that she could feel not only how broken you were emotionally but physically too in her arms. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, yeah?” Her words were firm, but her touch was impossibly gentle. She let you go, letting you settle back down against Trent, his arms immediately reclaiming you, holding you just as tightly as before. Layla wiped her eyes quickly, trying to keep things light.  “Okay, be honest though… better cuddle—me or T?” She sniffled through a teasing smile, nudging your side playfully. You tried—really tried—to laugh, but it wouldn’t come. It felt stuck, like everything else inside you. The pain was still too raw. Trent glanced down at you before looking at Layla, smirking, appreciating her efforts. 

“I might edge you out, you know, Lays.” His voice was soft, teasing but careful. He reached out and gave Layla’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, making sure you didn’t feel like you had to answer.

“Maybe… I am her best friend though.” Layla shot back with a giggle, wiping at her nose. Then she leaned down toward you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “But you’ve got your dream boy now, hmm?” And there, then in that moment, your best friend joking around with your boyfriend, Trent holding you, keeping you safe, Layla kissing you reassuring you, you let out a real giggle, something light bubbled up inside you. Soft, quiet, but real. It was there. Trent felt it more than heard it, the way your body shook ever so slightly with the sound. His chest tightened with relief, his heart aching in the best way. Layla’s eyes softened, glistening with emotion. Trent held you even closer, burying a kiss into your hair. 

“Yeah, you’ve got me. Love my pretty girl so much.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but you felt every word settle deep in your bones. His arms squeezed you, grounding you in the only truth that mattered right now—he was here, Layla was here, and you were safe.

Jack dropped down into one of the seats with a dramatic sigh, stretching his legs out as if he’d been carrying the weight of the world and he might as well have been. 

“I don’t know, Lays, you might get boxed out like me and Noah. Trenty says they’re best friends.” He tossed the words out with a smirk, arms folding across his chest as he gave a pointed glance in your direction. Layla gasped, her mouth falling open in mock offense. 

“Excuse me? And here I was thinking I was special.” She placed a hand over her chest, shaking her head like she’d just been personally betrayed. You could only let out another quiet giggle, hiding your face deeper into Trent’s chest, a small, shy smile pulling at your lips. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear—it was the only thing keeping you grounded. You felt his arms tighten around you slightly, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Yeah, best friend… love of my life too, hmm?” Trent hummed, his lips grazing your temple before trailing down to your neck in soft, playful kisses. His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper in it, something so undeniably him—warm, sure, and full of a love so consuming you almost felt overwhelmed by it. You nodded against him, your arms slipping under his to hold him tighter, fingers gripping at the fabric of his shirt like you never wanted to let go. It had been such a hard few days, but in his arms, even with the ache in your chest, you felt safe. Slowly, you lifted your head, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a moment longer than necessary. When you pulled away, you turned toward Layla, stretching your hand out. She took it instantly, her fingers wrapping around yours in a firm but comforting squeeze.

“I can share,” you murmured softly, eyes filled with the quiet affection that only Layla could truly understand. She softened immediately, squeezing your hand back a few times in silent reassurance. 

“You’re very loveable, babe. Hard to resist.” She giggled. Trent kissed the top of your head again, holding you closer. Layla smirked, shooting a look at Jack before grinning. “Guess Jacky boy will be an okay sub then.” Jack scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Okay sub? Wow, alright then.” He laughed, flicking his gaze between the three of you. “Fine, I’ll take ya.” Without warning, he threw an arm around Layla in a rough, brotherly way, yanking her into his side like an annoying sibling. “Let them be gross together. We’ll survive.” He quipped. Layla groaned dramatically, struggling in his grasp. 

“Oh my God, Jack—you’re crushing me! Get off!” She struggled in his strong arms. Jack only laughed, keeping his grip tight, making it impossible for her to wriggle away. You lips uncontrolled pulled into a soft smile. As ridiculous as they were, these were your people.

“Nah, you said I was a fucking sub. If you’re bringing me in, this is what you get.” He smirked. Trent chuckled, shaking his head as he looked down at you, his grip never loosening. 

“They’re just jealous, baby.” He whispered against your hair, his voice full of playful amusement. You giggled softly, the sound barely audible, but real. It was small, but it was something. And for the first time in days, something inside you felt just a little bit lighter.

The room had been filled with an easy warmth, the kind that only came from the presence of the people who loved you most. Trent’s arms remained securely around you as you laid curled into his chest, his steady heartbeat your grounding rhythm. Jack and Layla sat close by, still exchanging playful jabs, the remnants of your soft laughter lingering in the air. For a brief moment, things almost felt… normal. Almost. But then as Jack was flicking through channels on the tv, he paused on a one, a news update cut through the soft atmosphere like a blade.

“It seems the ruckus of the Liverpool-Manchester United match this season has carried off the pitch and into an exclusive neighborhood of Hale last night. A disturbance call made to a Cheshire luxury home early Sunday ended with one arrest being made, Manchester United’s left winger, Josh Ellington…”

Your body instinctively tensed the moment you heard his name, your breath catching in your throat. Trent felt it immediately. His grip on you tightened, his large hands running soothingly up and down your back, his lips pressing a silent kiss against your hair as if to say, I’ve got you. You’re safe. He can’t touch you anymore. But it didn’t stop the ice-cold shiver that ran down your spine. Jack and Layla had gone completely still, their playful banter vanishing as quickly as it had come. The room, which had been filled with lighthearted teasing just seconds ago, now felt unbearably heavy, like the air had been sucked from it entirely.

“Police reported to a house party after receiving a call about the disturbance. It’s been understood that there were multiple footballers from both clubs in attendance. There is widespread speculation that a row kicked off between the rival clubs’ players…”

The words felt distant, like you were hearing them from underwater. You knew what had happened. You had lived what had happened. This wasn’t speculation to you—it was real. The bruises on your skin, the lingering ache in your ribs, the shattered feeling deep in your chest… all of it was evidence of that night. Josh had been arrested. That should’ve meant relief, right? But all you felt was a deep, aching sadness. Because even though he was behind bars, you were still here, curled into Trent’s arms like a wounded bird, your body still bearing the marks of what he had done. Jack let out a sharp exhale, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he shook his head. 

“Fucking dickhead.” His voice was tight, filled with barely restrained anger. Layla swallowed hard, her gaze flickering to you immediately, her hand reaching out, rubbing your arm in silent comfort. Trent stayed quiet, his chest rising and falling beneath you in deep, controlled breaths. You knew him well enough to know what that meant—he was pissed, trying his hardest to keep himself calm for you. His fingers brushed the side of your arm, tracing slow, deliberate circles over your skin, his way of reminding you he was here. You took in a shaky breath, pressing your face further into his chest, as if you could disappear into him entirely. His warmth, his strength, his love—it was the only thing keeping you from unraveling completely.

“Fuck ‘em honest. He can’t hurt you anymore, baby.” Trent murmured so quietly only you could hear it, his voice thick with emotion. “Never again.” And even though the sadness still clung to you like a second skin, you believed him. Because as long as you were in his arms, as long as he held you this tightly, you knew you were safe.

A while later, Jack strolled into the kitchen, rubbing his face tiredly as he made his way to the fridge. Layla was already there, quietly making tea for you. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched as she moved around, carefully pouring the hot water into a mug.

“I'm glad you came over, Lays. She hadn’t been talking much, so this has been good,” Jack finally said, stepping up beside her. His voice was gentle, as if he knew she was holding onto something fragile. Layla turned her head slightly, and Jack caught the way her eyes filled with tears. She blinked quickly, as if willing them away, but they were there—threatening to spill over.

“I needed to see her, Jack,” she murmured. “That was so scary.” Layla admitted. Jack sighed, leaning back against the counter. 

“Yeah, was a lot.” He ran a hand over his jaw before glancing at her again. “You okay?” He asked. Layla hesitated before exhaling, stirring the tea absently. 

“Yeah… I just…” She trailed off for a moment, her voice quiet. “Honestly, I never knew it was so bad. And even then, I didn’t think anything like that would happen.” She earnestly told him. Jack nodded slowly, his expression darkening. 

“Neither. I can’t wrap my head around it.” He shifted, standing up straighter as he reached for two more mugs. “I’m sorry we didn’t check on you last night, though.” He set them down beside her, his voice laced with sincerity. Layla glanced at him with a small, appreciative smile. 

“Jack, there was a lot going on,” she reassured him, her tone understanding. She turned back to the tea, adding sugar and a splash of milk. “I was fine. Noah took care of me.” Jack stilled. His eyebrows shot up as a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Did he?” He smugly responded too fast. Layla hummed in response, not picking up on his inflection, oblivious at first. 

“Yeah?” She turned toward him just as the tea bags steeped. Jack didn’t say anything at first—just gave her a look. Layla blinked. Then it hit her. “Oh my days—No! Jack! Stop!” She yelped, half-groaning, half-laughing as she shoved his arm. The smile on her face betrayed her, though. No was not the time for Layla to spill anything. Jack held his hands up in mock innocence, grinning. 

“I’ve said absolutely nothing here, Lays. You’re the one reading into things…” He let the sentence hang, watching her squirm, “Unless…” His smirk deepened. “Is there something I should be reading into?” Layla gasped dramatically, pointing at the door. 

“No. No. Just go away. We can’t be best friends anymore. This won’t work. I need Y/N back from T” She teased. Jack cackled, reaching for his drink. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep deflecting.” He joked. Layla rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck said more than words ever could.

“You alright?” Megan’s soft voice rang through the entryway as Jack let her inside, her arms full of bags. Her presence another addition to the arsenal of people supporting you. Not asked, but offering.

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Jack murmured, his eyes softening the moment he saw her. He reached for her, pulling her into a warm embrace. “You look beautiful, my Meg.” His voice was low, affectionate, as he pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. Megan sighed into the moment before pulling back with a small smile. 

“Brought her some things.” She held up one of the bags and a bouquet of delicate flowers. “Just gonna put these in her room. Don’t need to make a big deal out of it or anything. But I also brought some food and all sorts of things.” She let out a quiet giggle, trying to lighten the air. Jack, however, didn’t let her slip away just yet. His lips unconsciously pouted, his heart swelling at her thoughtfulness. He pulled her into another embrace, tighter this time, his chin resting on the top of her head.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Just chilling today, but I’m glad you’re here.” He took the bags from her, one hand still clasping hers as he kissed her temple. They began walking further into the house, but before they could step fully into the living room, Megan hesitated. Her fingers curled around his, pulling him back gently. Jack turned to her with a questioning look, but her gaze was cast downward. He felt the tension in her shoulders before she even spoke.

“Jack… I… I’m so sorry,” Megan whispered, her voice unsteady.  “I feel so at fault.” Jack’s brows furrowed. 

“Meg…” His voice was careful. “This is no one but Josh’s fault.” Jack explained.  

“I know… I know.” She exhaled shakily, wringing her hands together. “But it’s also…” She hesitated, her throat tightening, as if saying the name would make it more real. “Jess's” The name came out barely above a breath. “I’m sorry.” Jack’s jaw clenched at the mention of her. The weight of it all was still settling, but Megan’s guilt? He wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, my Meg…” His voice softened, and he stepped closer, cupping her cheek so she would look at him. “You’re not her, are ya?” Megan shook her head quickly, a quiet sniffle escaping her lips. Jack brushed his thumb over her cheek, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers for a moment. “Then don’t take this on. Not for a second.” His voice was gentle but firm, the conviction in his words wrapping around her like a safety net. Megan let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly. Jack pressed another kiss to her temple, lingering there for just a second longer. “You’re good, Meg. And you’re here. That’s what matters.”

They walked into the kitchen together, Megan placing the flowers down carefully before slowly unpacking the bags she had brought. The rustle of paper and plastic filled the quiet space as she moved around the kitchen island with ease, knowing exactly where everything belonged. Jack, perched on a stool, watched her with a lazy smile, his chin resting in his palm. Without looking up admist her swift movements, Megan reached out and pinched his side.

“Aye!” Jack yelped, jolting upright with a cheeky grin. Megan giggled, her eyes twinkling as she opened a bag of Percy Pigs she’d brought over, popping one into her mouth before turning to him with another between her fingers. She stepped closer, pushing it toward his lips. Jack caught her wrist gently, holding it still. Instead of just taking the sweet, he pulled her hand closer, slipping the gummy into his mouth while keeping his eyes locked on hers. And before she could react, he kissed her fingers softly. Megan let out a breathy giggle, her cheeks heating under his touch. Jack smirked at her, but the lightheartedness of the moment only distracted him for a second. If he was honest with himself, there was a part of him that was scared—scared of letting another woman into his life, one that wasn’t you or, more frankly, your mum. He had spent so long keeping people at a distance, afraid of the hurt that came when they left. A linger aftereffect of the pain of loosing your mum. He knew you wouldn’t leave. But seeing you hurt, seeing what Josh had done to you, had shaken him more than he ever thought possible. And right now, watching Megan show up—not just for you, but for him—when he never even asked, terrified him. Yet, it also meant everything.

"Meg?" Jack's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. She turned back to him, and he reached out, gently pulling her between his legs as he sat on the stool. His hands found her waist instinctively, his thumbs grazing her sides in slow, soothing strokes.

"You okay?" she asked, offering him a sad smile. Jack exhaled, his fingers flexing slightly against her hips. 

"I just... you know I care about you." Megan nodded without hesitation. "And you know I love you." His voice was steady, but there was something deeper behind it— something vulnerable. Megan swallowed, her breath catching in her throat. He had told her before, but it had been in fleeting moments, in passing, when emotions were high. She had never been fully sure if he meant it in the quiet, in the stillness. 

"And you're sure about that?" she whispered. Jack didn't even blink. 

"More sure than l've ever been about anything." He rescinded immediately. Megan's lips parted slightly, her heart thudding in her chest. "It's been a little mad lately," Jack continued, his thumbs still running absentminded circles against her, grounding himself in the feeling of her beneath his hands. "And I just wanted you to know I want you." He paused, searching her eyes. "And I'd want you to maybe be my girlfriend when it's mad and..." His voice softened, "even when it's not."

"Jack..." Megan whimpered, emotion pooling in her chest, threatening to spill over. Her hands ran over his chest, feeling the warmth of him beneath her palms. "I can be yours, always. Mad or not." She giggled nervously, biting her lip. Jack smiled, but there was something cautious behind it. He tilted his head slightly, exhaling before murmuring, 

"It's just... once you're here, you're here for me, you know?" The weight of what he was saying lingered between them. His fear of being left coming in with a force.  She hummed in understanding, her fingers curling into his hoodie. 

"Okay," she said simply, her voice steady. "And I'm here." Jack closed his eyes for a moment, like he was letting it sink in. 

"Thank you for understanding." He whispered.  Megan smiled up at him. 

"So... am I your girlfriend, Jacky?" she teased, her voice light but full of meaning. Jack huffed out a bashful laugh, rolling his head to the side for a second before standing up, wrapping her in his arms, and pulling her against his chest. He hummed, swaying her back and forth in his embrace, his lips pressing into her hair.

"Yeah," he whispered with a happy chuckle. "My Meg."

In the days following, Trent’s arms wrapped snugly around your waist as he stood behind you, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder. His warm brown eyes met yours in the mirror, filled with soft adoration.

“What do you think about getting out with me today, baby?” Trent asked sweetly, his voice low and coaxing.

“Out?” You pouted, barely entertaining the idea. The comfort of being wrapped up with him felt too good to leave behind.

“Pleaase.” He grinned, pressing soft, rapid kisses along your cheek, one after the other, until you finally gave in with a quiet giggle. “C’mon, pretty girl,” he murmured against your skin. “For me? Please let me take the most beautiful girl in the world to go get some…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering back to yours in the mirror, waiting for you to fill in the blank. 

“Coffee?” You sighed playfully before mumbling. Trent nodded immediately, kissing your cheek again. 

“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.” He told you. You hesitated for a moment.

“Can I shower first?” You asked softly. A small, sad smile tugged at your lips. Trent’s smirk was slow and teasing as he met your gaze in the reflection. 

“Can I…?” His tone was full of mischief, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. You giggled, nodding as he pulled you back against his chest, wrapping his arms tighter around you. His lips brushed your neck, lingering with playful kisses. “C’mere, baby,” he murmured, making it clear that, coffee or not, he had no intention of letting you go just yet.

The steam curled around you both as Trent guided you gently into the ensuite, his hands never leaving your skin. He undressed you slowly, his fingertips trailing over every inch of you as if he were handling something delicate, something sacred. The soft hum of the shower filled the air as he turned on the water, and the moment the warmth hit your skin, it felt like the weight of the past few days was being washed away. The hot water cascaded down your bodies, you found yourself drawn to him, your hands reaching out to trace the contours of his golden skin. Trent's muscular frame glistened with moisture, his tanned skin a stark contrast to the tiles surrounding you. You couldn't resist him; your fingers itched to explore every inch of his body. Trent pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a beat before his kisses trailed down your temple, along your jaw, and finally to your neck. His touch was tender, reverent, but even still, you could feel the tension in his body, the restraint he was forcing himself to hold. Your hands moved over him, tracing the planes of his skin, desperate to pull him closer. He shivered under your touch, his body responding instinctively even as his mind told him to slow down. You pressed yourself into him, tilting your head to kiss his neck, your hands gripping at his back, his shoulders, his waist—anywhere you could reach. You needed to feel him, to remind yourself that you were safe, wanted, that you were his, that he was yours. Trent let out a breath, hesitating for just a moment before his hands found your waist, holding you gently but firmly. 

"Nah, baby, please," he murmured against your ear, kissing just behind it. His voice was hoarse, filled with longing, but there was something else there too-concern. "Maybe let's slow down, yeah?" But you didn't want slow. You wanted to feel. You wanted to drown in him. Leaning forward, you grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer. Your lips sought his neck, kissing and sucking gently, leaving a trail of wetness on his warm skin. He tasted like the essence of desire, and you craved more. Your hands roamed over his broad back, feeling his muscles beneath your fingertips.

"T, I need you," you whispered, your voice hoarse with need. "I just want to feel how much you love me again." you whispered, your voice desperate as you began to sink to your knees in front of him.

"Nah, nah, stop, baby," Trent's voice was firm as his hands cupped your face, guiding you back up. His deep brown eyes searched yours, his thumbs stroking gently over your wet cheeks. You tried your hardest to not be offended but he spoke again before your thoughts could spiral that far. "You promise you want to feel how much I love you... like this?" His voice was thick, serious, grounding. Your breath caught, and you nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. The heat between you was unmistakable, and the ache in your core had nothing to do with the warm water cascading around you. Trent exhaled slowly, letting his hands glide down your back, feeling the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. "Alright," he murmured, his touch sending a shiver through you. "But you know this is because I love who you are, yeah?" His voice was low, a whisper meant just for you.

"Yeah," you whined, your hands grasping at him, needing him closer, needing him to erase everything but this moment. And then, finally, Trent gave in, pulling you into him like you were the only thing keeping him upright.  You felt your heart beat harder hearing him. You gasped, silently, your voice breathless. The warmth of the water mixed with the heat of Trent's body as he pressed you against the cool tile. His hands roamed your body with purpose, his lips leaving a slow, lingering trail of kisses down your neck. 

"Cause I love you," he murmured, voice thick with emotion. "And I love this body. I love everything inside of it." His words were spoken like a vow, his hands moved to greedily palm your ass, pulling you closer into him. 

"And you like my ass too?" you teased, relishing in the feeling of his hands of you, tilting your head back as his lips grazed over your collarbone. Trent pulled away just enough to meet your eyes, his grin lazy and full of adoration. 

"Absolutely. Like nothing else. Love every inch of you." You let out a breathy laugh between the pleasure, feeling light despite the intensity between you.  Before you could respond, he bent slightly, his strong arms scooping you up effortlessly, hands gripping under your thighs as he pressed you against the cold tiled wall more. Your breath hitched, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your body instinctively molded into his– The contrast of the cold surface against your heated skin sent shivers down your spine. Trent's lips found your neck, his kisses hot and demanding. His hands roamed over your tits, squeezing and kneading, making you arch into his touch. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his voice filled with admiration. "Every fucking inch of you." Your core clenched at his words, the pleasure intensifying with each caress. Trent's fingers found your wetness, stroking and teasing, making you gasp and squirm against him. He was smooth, moving to stroke his cock some before aligning it with your core. Then, with one swift thrust, he filled you completely, his cock sliding deep within your hot, wet core. You cried out, the sensation overwhelming as he stretched and filled you. Trent's hands gripped your thighs again, holding you steady as he began to move, his hips snapping forward with each powerful thrust.

"I love you, T," you whimpered, your voice breathless. His movements were slow at first, deliberate, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, 'I love you,' 'I love you,' like a prayer against your lips. Every thrust, every touch, was filled with something deeper than just desire. It was devotion, a need to remind you how much he worshipped you, how much he needed you just as much as you needed him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight and wet for me." You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he pounded into you. The water continued to rain down, mixing with your sweat, making your bodies slick and glistening. Trent's eyes never left yours, holding you captive in an intense gaze as he fucked you with abandon. His love for you was evident in every stroke, every touch, and every kiss.

"You're everything l've ever wanted," you whined, voice breaking as the emotions overwhelmed you. The pleasure built alongside the flood of emotions, your chest heaving as you clung to him. Trent's grip on you tightened, adjusting one hand holding your thigh securely around his waist so the other could slid up, cupping your jaw, tilting your face, making your eyes met his. Your eyes had filled with tears. 

"I'm here with you. Tell me you're here with me, baby," he rasped, his own voice thick with emotion, his dark eyes searching yours.  You nodded, unable to speak, your emotions raw and exposed. He held your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes, the deep brown pools reflecting the love and desire you felt. "You know I’m here?" he asked, his voice filled with concern and adoration. You managed a weak nod again, unable to find the words to express the depth of your feelings. Trent understood, his eyes softening as he held you close. "YN," he called your name, his voice filled with emotion. He held you tightly, his strong arms supporting your weight. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel the tears stinging your eyes. It was an overwhelming mix of emotions—love, passion, and a deep connection that left you breathless. Trent's lips found yours, kissing you softly, gently wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "I'm here, baby," he whispered against your mouth. "I'm right here with you." The intensity was too much. The way he was looking at you like you were his entire world, the way he was holding you like you were something to be cherished-it broke something open inside you. Tears streamed down your cheeks causing Trent to still, concern flickering across his face. 

"No, baby. Please. Don't stop," you gasped, voice trembling. "I need you." His brows furrowed for just a second before he nodded, his hold on you tightening like he wanted to fuse you to him.

"Okay," he murmured, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your wet cheek. "You've got me." Then he moved again, slow and deep, his forehead pressing against yours, groaning into your skin as he gave himself to you completely. And in that moment, it wasn't just about making love-it was about healing, about holding onto each other in a way that nothing else in the world could touch. As the water continued to wash over you, you realized that this moment was more than just physical pleasure. It was a testament to the powerful bond you had with him. Trent's love for you was evident in every touch, every kiss, and every whispered word. And in that steamy shower, with his strong arms holding you, you knew that you had found something special, something that went beyond mere physical attraction. And so he drove into you again, hitting all the right spots, your climax building. Your body trembled, and your breath came in short gasps. Trent's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice hoarse. "Let me feel you cum for me. Look so beautiful when you cum f'me." His words were like a trigger, sending you over the edge. You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you in waves of pleasure. Your inner walls clenched around his shaft, milking him as your body shook. Trent's own release followed, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep within you. 

The steam curled around you both, the water cascading down your entwined bodies as you remained wrapped in each other's arms. The remnants of passion, of pain, of everything that had come before, swirled down the drain, disappearing as if they had never existed. It felt baptismal in a way-not in religion, but in renewal. The past, the bruises, the weight of men like Josh, washed away, leaving behind something untouched, something whole. And that something was Trent. It was you, with him. Trent held you close, his breath warm against your temple, his hands steady and grounding against your back. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, just existing in the aftermath, feeling each other's hearts still pounding in sync.

When he finally moved, it was with a gentleness that sent another kind of shiver through you. His strong arms lowered you carefully onto the cool tiles, his hands never leaving your waist, like he was afraid you might slip away from him. His eyes roamed your body, lingering over your damp, glistening skin. His gaze caught on the bruises, the faint scrape marring your décolletage, the reminder of Josh's cruel grip, of the necklace he had torn away. The sight of it made something flicker in Trent's expression-an ache, a silent fury, a desperation to undo what had already been done. Without a word, he dropped his head, his face level with the tender marks. He didn't say anything, but you felt everything in the way he pressed his lips to the bruises, the scrape, the places that hurt. His kisses were reverent, delicate, as though his lips could will the pain away, as though he could rewrite the past with every press of his mouth. He nuzzled his face against your skin, his breath shaky, his hands gripping your hips like he needed to hold onto you just as much as you needed to be held. He took a deep breath, attempting to reign in his own emotions.

"I hate that he hurt you," he murmured, voice thick with something unspoken. "Hate that I wasn't there to stop it." Your fingers slid into his wet curls, tugging gently, grounding him. 

"You came though.” You whispered ,feeling a lump form in your throat making it hard to speak. “And you're here now," you sniffled, feeling the tears come back with force again. He exhaled against your skin, pressing one last lingering kiss over your heart before looking up at you. His eyes were warm, filled with devotion, and something deeper-something unshakable.

"Yeah," he whispered, gripping you tighter. "And I'm never letting go."

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 29 xx

[mamayura]

Okay but what's crazy is that the episode does subtly reveal that Adrien did keep it a secret from Marinette that he's more than silent jogging buddies with Sublime

In the beginning, Marinette says that when she asked Adrien if he and Sublime talk when they go running he always says "no". This is factually correct as we find out in the end through Sublime:

But there is obviously something not adding up here. Sublime literally says "Outside of running, of course Adrien and I talk". They just arent talking in any of their morning runs because Sublime in particular is doing it as serious training. So no talking because that would impact their breathing, but outside of that? Well, yeah, duh.

And that makes sense

Adrien and Sublime are in the same ancient Greek class, of course they would talk. I'm gonna go with the assumption that this is why Sublime started running by his side, because they vaguely knew each other from Greek class and when they crossed each others running paths one morning they were familiar enough to just run together in silence

Look, I- I dont know how to put this more elegantly, so I'll rip off the bandaid. The vibes I'm getting from this episode are that Adrien was more than cool with not talking anyway because he deliberately keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because he knew Marinette would be weird about it and that made him uncomfortable.

He knows his girlfriend and she's peanut-butter-and-jealous.

And the thing is, as much as this certainly is a complicated topic with a lot of factors to consider for both sides, the way the episode had Marinette go about all this...

... the episode proved him RIGHT. He was right to be too uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about being friends with Sublime. She merely found out that they were running together in silence and proceeded to not only keep watching them each morning and taking photos, Marinette even proceeded to stalk the hell out Sublime:

No, this isnt normal. This isnt a "quirky girlfriend" thing to do, or "funny haha". Its one of the reason why Adrien didnt feel comfortable letting her know.

And, I mean, yeah. I can't blame him for it, can I? :I

Later on, Sublime is very quick to piece together that the girl hiding behind them is Adrien's girlfriend. Not the thing I would immediately go with, unless of course Adrien did already vaguely mention having a girlfriend to Sublime at one point. Then yes, her coming to this conclusion after Marinette followed her all day makes a lot more sense. Even if those are not.. nice implications. The episode does go on playing it straight at first that Marinette is the weird and a bit alarming girlfriend.

Look, you can pretty this up if you like, but for me, Adrien is clearly a solid bit uncomfortable and very apologetic here to Sublime because of Marinette's behavior. Sublime too is being nice about it to a degree you shouldnt take for granted. She would have had been perfectly justified in saying something else entirely. Adrien is trying to be a good boyfriend about this, but Marinette is out here proving him right in having struggled with wanting her to know about Sublime. Marinette has been following her around all day, Sublime noticed, and Adrien is doing good faith damage control here by telling Sublime that Marinette has good intentions and only wants to be her friend.

Something, though, that the episode clarified 3 times wasnt really the case:

It is so weird that at the core of the problem for both sides of Adrinette WAS Marinette being peanut-butter-and-jealous.

Marinette did NOT try to befriend Sublime out of some pure-hearted desire to know her. She did so because she feared that Adrien could end up not loving her anymore if she doesnt gain some control over the Sublime situation real quick

And Adrien DID keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because, well, was he wrong?

And thats the thing. The episode just DROPS this in favor of saying that Marinette only had these pure-hearted intentions to know her when that isnt true. The episode proved Adrien alarmingly RIGHT in his gut feeling to keep Sublime a secret from Marinette, they just-

They just didnt let him know about any of it as if that makes it any less true. I would understand it if this episode had been entirely about tackling this issue for good. Adrien not being wrong for feeling uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about any new female friends and then Adrien gets proven right, but the situation is saved by Marinette's secondary desire of befriending Sublime.

Sure, not the plot of my choice, but I would GET IT because it would actually cover the given problem. Here it is... they didnt do it. Adrien was proven right, Marinette did everything wrong to Sublime that was possible and ended up breaking her prosthetic and ruined the sponsorship with a combo of Marinette's and Ladybug's harmful inconsideration.

Marinette did exactly what Adrien was afraid of... and they just DON'T resolve the initial Adrinette core of this issue. It's still ongoing. Marinette didnt even get to react in the end to finding out that Adrien did keep her in the dark about talking to Sublime:

I guess for now the explanation for that will be that Adrinette switched positions in this for once and now it's Marinette who isnt questioning it enough that Adrien only said the truth to her going by the technicality of "She only ask him if they talk while running".

Obviously, this is not how it works. He kept her in the dark. And whether he was right to doing so or not isnt important for the feeling I'm getting that this is just the beginning of a streak of similar problems like this. The postponed resolution to this will happen at a later point, and knowing Miraculous, they'll do it after it escalates to hell.

We already saw it in "Illustrhater" and the synopsis for "Werepapas" for example also sounds like Marinette will not stop here being a questionable girlfriend

I just dont understand why they would keep on DOING that?

[athetos]

Some thoughts from severance s2e3, and the season in general:

I 100% assumed the reason the goat people were asking to see their bellies was to see if they had belly buttons. Since the prevailing theory is that the goats are for cloning purposes, i figured they wanted to make sure they weren’t clones (clones not having belly buttons because they weren’t birthed/have need for an umbilical cord). If we take the pouches line at face value, I’d guess that they were told a rumor that MDR had pouches, to sow division and fear between the departments (like the fake uprising told to MDR about O&D, and vice versa).

The Export Floor. The fact that O&D used to deliver things there themselves, but then a courier was used. My theory is that someone saw something there they shouldn’t have. I don’t know how o!Irving knows about it, but I’m not here to discuss that right now. What I want to talk about is the name. The obvious one is exporting goods (or even ideas) to other countries, and this could simply mean it’s where stuff made by O&D gets sent up to the ‘outtie’ world. But there’s another possibility - export as in transferring data to another software/format. I think it’s this meaning that is critical, and has big implications for Gemma/Ms. Casey. They could be transferring the data MDR has refined to her chip, or in some way or another, working on “Cold Harbor.”

I am very firmly in the ‘that’s Helena’ camp now. I don’t think this is in character for Helly, as the extremely awkward conversation in the hall with Mark as well as telling Irving they ‘got him’ sealed it for me. I’m fairly certain that management knows it’s Helena; after all, they don’t activate her chip, although I won’t rule out she paid someone off/threatened them to do it. That said, I like to believe she compromised with the board to go down as herself, instead of as Helly. This would also mean that she can encourage Mark to go places that Lumon specifically wants him to see, instead of ones that are much more confidential. However, I think she’ll end up siding with the innies by the end, simply because the connections she will forge with them will be the only genuine and loving relationships in her life.

I didn’t mention this before, but i’m pretty sure Irving knows that Helena/Helly is lying, because he was the only innie who spent enough time outside to know that it was winter and she couldn’t have been gardening. He distrusts her, that’s why he only told Dylan about Burt.

Upon immediately seeing Dylan’s wife I assumed she was a hired actress. However it genuinely appears to be her (granted, I’m faceblind, but the voice sounded the same when she was with his outtie later in the episode). Lumon clearly thinks that this perk will keep i!Dylan in line, but I think it might backfire spectacularly, or at least cause significant drama - his wife is going to fall in love with his innie. Think about it, if their marriage is going through a rough patch, and she gets to spend time with a version of her husband who lacks all of the assumptions/grudges he has against her - basically starting all over… yeah, it’s gonna get strange. The way she talked about it to o!Dylan was like she was hiding it from him, almost like it’s the beginning of a potential affair…

(I also am still of the mind that either she or one of their children is terminally ill in some way, hence the benefits/insurance that Dylan is always looking after. He also complained a few times about having sore arms and jokes he works out. I feel this might be related somehow? But not sure…)

I stand by my theory that the board is actually the motherboard and is Kier’s (and his successors?) consciousness, or something of that ilk. The board was referred to as “it” in this episode (also “they”, but I believe that was meant as in plural, including Natalie). So I think we actually don’t have any proof that it’s multiple people or even people period. It will be like the export double meaning I mentioned earlier. Again, the board is hot on Mark staying and working because it wants him to finish Cold Harbor so it can begin the revival of Kier’s family (the rotation could potentially mean their minds being uploaded. Or something of that nature.)

No big theories or details to chew on here, but things that got big reactions from me: the Black Kier portraits I was expecting but still not prepared for. I desperately want to see Natalie’s portraits that she received; were they all biracial, all women, or both? The idea of genderbent biracial Kier family is killing me. This is like Hamilton (I think). Cobel definitely was going to die if she went into the building, she made the right call, I was terrified that her car might explode as she left. Phew. Next episode is going to be a roller coaster, I can tell. Shocked that he’s starting reintegration so soon but I’m here for it. Worried that Devon is going to get murdered. And I’m waiting for Cobel to get hunted down by Mark or for her to willingly seek him out as she realizes this is her only chance left to… do whatever the fuck it is she wants to do.

[accio-victuuri]

January 2025 CPNs round-up 🚥

The first month of the year went by just like that?! but we are so lucky cause in 1 month we got 2 LRLG submissions and 2 events that they both attended. What a great way to start 2025!

• starting off the year strong with CCTV series new year greetings from our dear actors

• guo jing x xie yun new cp

• i am not here nye performance candies

• coco crush ring importance for bobo’s performance during nye 💍

• 010225 lrlg submission translation and the cpns involved

• amiri logo x wo men writing

• paparazzi that the last time he saw xz chatting so much was in 2018 with wyb

• the 2018 dinner with cql crew video released 🥹🙏🏼 - there is some side cpn to this cause it was released not even 30 minutes after ybo refuted a rather absurd dating rumor. Liu dachui is the pap that released it and he is a v popular blogger. DH also guested on his channel before so you can say they have some friendly connection. i know bloggers like LDC are a pain in the ass for companies but you gotta keep your enemies close am i right? so some cpfs are thinking that the timing of release was to take some attention away from the hs. which didn’t actually cause the HS was up for a long time. take this with a grain of salt. 🍉

• wyb’s main accessory for his NYE performance was a hat brooch. this reminds us of the whole hat cpn😂

• same light leak editing design for these two videos between ybo and xzs. it’s not a secret that we think they sometimes share staff when it comes to editing. and it’s a rainbow? 🌈

of course other artists has access to this video editor design or whatever. anyone could make it logically. but why are the similarities always between them?

• coincidental matching years later

• speculations from xz’s portrait magazine interview

• weibo night candies part one / part two

there is also this that i wasn’t able to add, how they have the same staff assisting them. idk if this person also assisted other artists but it’s interesting how she was assigned to both xz and wyb.

there’s also some unsavory twisting the narrative thing that solos are doing regarding the seats. bec they are so obssessed with us and our candies lol.

• cpns from xz’s portrait magazine feature

• ybo has a movie ticket theme

• why do they twist their feet like that 🙃🙃🙃

• minor cpns from china internet and audiovisual festival

• 1/28/25 lrlg 🎉🧧🧧🧧 - this one is mostly incoherent because of the very random convos with no context. which is the norm for lrlg. but there are sweet moments too! they care for each other so much 🥹🥹🥹🥹

• 1/29, jam hsiao reposted his collab stage with yibo and bobo commented with this:

mr xiao! hahahahahaha! what a coincidence. of course we are just clowning!

-END.

See you all next month! 👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼

[thatbitchery]

HOW TO SCHOOL ; A COMPREHENSIVE GUIDE BY A CHAIN SCHOOLER.

Given I've been in school for 21years continuously now I'll say at this point I'm a professional in the art of schooling x studying, at least the ADHD ver. Random tips;

Go to your strengths and align with them. If you're a thinker go to the thinkings the math the Eng Lit or Lit the Calculus the classes that require for your to think. If you're a knower go to the knowings the history the Geography the Religion the Biology etc. If you're a doer go to the doings the Math the Physics the IT the Business. Go where your strengths are why suffer.

Your reputation does, in fact, proceed you. Teachers are just people and like people they are biased. School is for networking 190000× more than it is for education. And teachers are people too that can and should be networked with. If you need me to teach you how to build a reputation in school I will.

All rounders make it farthest. My formula is - one sport that does what I need it to (volleyball for cardio) and do everything in my power to be captain (I've always been). Two, a club that ticks my boxes. This has always been journalism club for me I knewww I wanted to be in journalism and communication early. Being part of the school paper (was chair in high school and editor in Uni). Leadership of student body (House captain for me. In high school. Wanted Library captain so bad but heh. Could be just being in the student council. My tip, high rank low responsibility) and take part in the most mediocre activity around (for me was Christian Council. All we did was nothing). It's the basis of- Who are you? And in life who you are is more important than what you know. Or better - what do people know you as? Keeping in mind it follows you. How people see an ex beauty queen isn't the same way they see an Ex head of student council. Also the busier you are the less time you have for all that. Alll of that. That drama thing you keep getting caught up in. + Your networks are wider so you skip the loneliness tax ie the number of things you do because you're lonely. The scrolling. The getting clingy and attached to random people that give you attention for 6 seconds. The dating people you don't even like. The over eating and over spending and- loneliness tax. We know it. Some of y'all on Tumblr rn paying it.

Always. Always. Alwaysss look your best in the most natural way possible. The world does not take kindly to unkempt women and it also doesn't want to know you pour energy into being kempt. What does this have to do with school? If you're below 25 likely you've spent 3/4 of your life in school. That's a lot of time for people to be taking jabs at your appearance or bullying you or talking hell behind your back or not coming into your space because there's no value attached to it (bc girl to girl, before you hit 25 your only value is your beauty. Again why I don't want you to date). Just make your hair and skin and nails and steam your clothes and don't look homeless it's that easy. And don't wear the eyelash extensions that look fake or the fillers or the red lips or- as natural as possible. It's school. Unless you want slaaat treatment .

Use your syllabus. I can not explain enough how much this is the way to study. Every start of semester your professor is required to release the syllabus. It has topics, subs and objectives. You see the objectives? Use those as study guides. By the end of that topic you should be able to answer the objectives if framed as questions.

Pre- during- post. You study the material pre class, on the day you'll have the class. Just go through it try answer questions. During class you listen and make side notes. After class you make the notes in writing and then go to the questions. If there are YouTube or Video or Audio explanations listen to them after making the notes and make sure you know what they're on about. DO NOT SLEEP if you know for a fact you can not recall it all. Scary hour night ver- get a pen and blank paper, offhead use objectives to write all you remember, go through the notes one more time. Thank me later.

Brown Noise White Noise- this is bs. Do what works for you there's no study noise that's standardized. I need to listen to cars and people talking noises to study some people need to listen to white noise I know someone that listens to Kpop some need no background noise so no one cares. The one rule is- IT CAN NOT BE IN A LANGUAGE YOU UNDERSTAND. The background noise CAN NOT BE IN A LANGUAGE YOU UNDERSTAND.

Niche. The niches are where it's at. Don't know what language to learn? Norwegian. How many people you know have self taught Norwegian. Exactly. If I said I speak french and someone says they speak Norwegian, automatically who sounds more disciplined and interesting? See the class that has 5 kids? Take that one for extra creds. Swimming? Deep sea diving. Stand out. Stand out.

Information retention happens in activity. Study sitting recall walking around or running or cleaning etc. The science is when you're active you need to be 10× more alert because your body id constantly scamming for threats and when you're sitting you signal to your body you're safe sooo why would it be that alert? Do your active recall on your morning jog. not yoga not activities meant for relaxing. (PS biohacking is a whole superpower and I'd teach you but I don't agree with the popular methods {when have I ever} and given my autism they probably only work for me so find your ver. Andrew Huberman is so extensive on this)

Have a signature. Sit same spot daily , have a same scent, have things that make you memorable and are associated with you. Why does it matter in school - for the exact same reason it matters everywhere, coupled by under 25 that's where you spend 3/4 of your life?

Mind the business that pays you. Stay in your lane, do your thing. Never commit to one group of friends and talk to everyone. Don't play social justice warrior matter of fact if you have to play a role move all the way over to Blair Waldorf Alison De Laurentis kind of bitchy but without being queen bee that's. Lmao. What is that. Do your thing and go home. Hang out with as many people as you can. Don't commit don't pick a side mind the business that pays you.

I'm begging you to be financially smart. Unfortunately there's no standard for this so we can work it out one on one I have all the time in the world pre August we can do it.

Boys. Stay. As. Far. Away. From. Those. I don't want you to date girls either I don't want you to date at all idc where you swing but generally I want you to know what ever a man does the women closest to him will pay for it. Even just *friends* yes be acquaintances yes hang out but NEVER let a man be a part of your identity all his problems will be yours but ×10 by associations. You see how Rihanna said 'your wife in the backseat of my car' when it's the man that messed up? that's life. THATS LIFE. Whatever a man does, the women around him will pay for it 1000×, and it's almost impossible to shake out a man's social imprint on you. Even just by vicinity. In the least literal sense of the phrase, fuck all these men.

[eggcompany]

Jayvik modern AU

Viktor frequents his local pool. He’s always liked swimming, it takes the pressure off his leg and it helps his pain. Plus he likes going to the bottom of the pool and feeling like he’s alone in space. He refuses to swim in just trunks so he’s got a long sleeve swim top.

Sometimes he goes classes with the elderly group, just for fun. Sometimes he just shows up at the same time because they play music.

Jayce gets a job working as a life guard. He likes it. He mostly just cleans and reads his books when no one’s there. It’s an easy job, keeping the pool nice and making sure people follow the rules. Plus he gets to sit shirtless in a tiny pair of red shorts and get oogle at which strokes his ego like nothing else.

The first time he watched Viktor come in he was confused as he watched him lean his crutch against the wall, having changed and left his braces in the lockers in the changing room. Viktor was wobbly as he made his way to the shallow end, easing himself into the water, obviously favoring his leg that was scattered with scarring.

But once the guy got into the water, butt scooting down the edge of the pool till he got to the deepest end, he was a really well swimmer. His ankles crossed, his upper body and core must be strong… Jayce was amazed as the guy did laps, easy, not for speed but he was quick. It was impressive, having his legs crossed, and staying so horizontal.

When he was getting out Jayce hopped down, one eye on the older ladies who were chatting and doing their own exercises, as he went to offer the guy a hand. With his shirt sucked down Jayce could see how thin he was, but he was toned. And gorgeous up close. With his wet hair and dark eye bags he was stunning.

“I’m Viktor, by the way. Did you replace the old guard?” He asked as they made their way back to his crutch. They ended up chatting for a bit, how Viktor comes every few days, Jayce works Tuesday through Friday, Viktor is actually an assistant at the academy Jayce attends in the mechanics program.

They chat every time they’re both around, sometimes it’s just them and Jayce sits at the side of the pool with his legs in the water so Viktor can enjoy it a little longer.

They grow close and eventually Jayce shows up at Viktor’s office asking if he wants to grab lunch.

It just grows from there.