#this whole ink situation is.... messy

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: people say suffering is what it means to be a shroud. you could not think more different.

WARNINGS: mentions of blood & self mutilation.

COMMENTS: PHEW THIS ONE WAS A DOOZY!!! idia stop being my muse pls 🙏🙏 i keep writing 2k - 3k word fics in one sitting because of you

“Don’t you wish the world treated him better?”

You blink, entranced by the swirls of green. The voice beckons you closer.

How was that door open...? It should have been closed, right...?

“Don’t you wish you three could live up on the surface, like everyone else?”

More voices have joined.

“Don’t you want that for him and his brother?”

It sounds beautiful, like a symphony.

“This is what it means to be a Shroud.”

You step closer, muscles relaxing as you slip under their spell. The voices are right. They deserved better. They should have been able to live where they pleased, to escape this island and their fate.

The voices giggle—they know they’re right.

They’ve reached you.

Black consumes your vision, blocking out the glowing green. You shut your eyes. Your world grows darker. There's a seizing in your chest and a fluttering in your heart as something pours into your body, staining you.

“This is what it means to be a Shroud.”

“Set us free, and we’ll set all of you free.”

—

The hallways are blaring red, but all Idia sees is the floor swimming in his vision. Ortho is by his side as he punches access code after access code into the door panels, running like he’s never run before. He has a stitch in his side but he keeps going, your face flashing in his mind.

He lost Ortho once. He’s not losing someone again.

It’s like the stairs last forever, winding deeper and deeper into the Earth. Idia doesn’t stop running once, even though he feels like he’s going to fall over and throw up. He’s almost one-hundred percent certain Ortho has carried him at some point but his mind is too messy and his vision is too muddled to care.

Time seems to slow as he reaches the bottom. He raises his head as his ears ring, and the second he lays eyes on you it’s like his vision is clear again. Ink pours out of you and the black markings on your face are all too familiar. Blue fire spits out from behind you and your shrieks are heartbreaking, like you’re wailing for something you want so badly but could never have. Wings sprout from your back, broken and crooked, feathers twisted and clumped. Your hands are worn and bloody from stretching at the walls, and that’s when Idia realizes—

You want to be free.

Guilt crashes over him and it's a critical hit. Of course. He should have been sure this is what you wanted. He should have known you’d get sick of life here, even though you said you loved him time and time again, even though you held him on all those nights that he couldn’t sleep because the thoughts were too much, even though you bonded with Ortho and stepped back for him, letting him set boundaries even though that meant not doing things you wanted to do, like holding his hand or kissing his forehead or playing with his hair.

He should have known this wasn’t the life you wanted.

The ring on his finger feels like nothing more than a heavy stone now.

—

It took years for Idia to open up to you about his family situation. In fact, he seemed to be braced for the possibility that you’d leave him in a heartbeat after hearing it. Your heart ached for him when he explained his past and his inevitable future in a soft, low voice, rushing through the whole thing as if it was the scariest thing he’s ever done.

You placed your hand on his knee once he stopped, letting his words trail off into the night.

“I understand you.” you’d said, looking him straight in the eyes. They seemed to glow in the darkness of his room, flickering like a fire about to be put out.

Idia curled in on himself that night, dragging a clump of his hair over his shoulder and twisting it into knots. You’d reached over and gently grabbed his hands, stopping him from tangling his precious hair. You’d gently smoothed out the fiery strands before kneeling in front of him, looking up at him as if paying him reverence.

“I want to stay with you.” you’d said softly, cradling his shaking, fragile hands in yours.

In that moment, it felt like his very heart was beating between your intertwined hands.

Soft sniffles filled the room that night, and you kissed each tear away. More kept coming, more and more and more, his eyes blotchy and red as he tried to keep quiet. You kept quiet too, whispering how much you cared about him and how if he would let you, you’d stay with him forever because you loved him and he deserved someone by his side. You kissed each tear well into the night, fighting his overwhelming sorrow with your love.

—

Your memories are patchy. It’s like you don’t remember who you are, or where you are. In the dark expanse of your mind, you remember two things.

Idia Shroud and Ortho Shroud.

Your throat feels heavy as your heart starts to palpate—what happened? Where is the green glow? Where are all the comforting voices that whispered your new future to you?

Where were the people you were fighting for?

“Vitals stable.” a faraway voice calls, a sharp clatter piercing through your quiet, inky haze, “Commencing full body scan for blot.”

Blot...

Your eyelids pry themselves open. All the energy has been sapped from your body, your limbs heavy and useless. The strings holding them up have been cut, and it's scary that you can’t remember how you were strung up in the first place.

“Mx, we ask that you please stay still.” the man above you is in a white coat, his hands holding a clipboard and a pen.

You nod passively. Something about him seems familiar enough.

His voice drones on statistics about your well being as your eyes slip shut again, and arms of sludge reach out from your mind and pull you back under the ink, into a deep sleep.

—

Idia is chewing on his fingernails again.

He wishes you were here to scold him for it and paint a new coat over them so he wouldn’t chew on them anymore, being too sentimental to mess up your hard work and too repulsed by the taste, even though he would only ever tell you the latter and—

You were still asleep.

Your vitals are stable, You are fine.

You are fine but there are still black scars all over your body.

Your vitals are stable but the marks will stay there forever.

You almost died and it’s his fault.

You want freedom and he took that away when he said “I do.”

He kissed you and he sucked the soul right out of your body, keeping it clutched in his hands because he’s selfish and stupid and why in the world did you even fall in love with him in the first place?

He has nothing to offer you.

Nothing but this.

Suffering and loneliness and contempt and headaches and cold nights and machines that fill your whole day, leaving no room for the whimsical leisure you enjoyed before. There are no more board games, no more trips to the school store, no more fresh air and nighttime walks, no more watching movies and eating gummy worms, no more talking to anyone who isn’t him.

The ring on his finger burns.

—

You don’t know how long it's been since you went to sleep.

You wake up to a room with dark walls and metallic shelves above your head. The bed (cot?) is firm underneath your body, which is adorned by a gray uniform. There’s a desk right across from you with a tablet and a chair. You can’t see anything it’s hooked up to. The one constant among all of these things seems to be the triangular details, criss-crossing and curving and connecting with each other.

They make your vision spin, so you look away.

You stay in bed.

For some reason your face and neck sting, as does your back. You trace the parts of your face that burn, finding that the areas are almost symmetrical on both sides.

What happened?

“...Idia?” you whisper, your left hand resting over your smoothly beating heart.

The door opens.

Your heart lurches into your throat when you see a dark uniform, fiery blue hair that swings well past his elbows, and eyes that are sunken in. His skin is as pale as ever, his lips chapped and bitten by worry, his nails stubbed and torn, but—

He came.

But it’s him.

He came when you called.

“...Idia—!” you gasp, choking on your words as you lurch forward and cough, black ink splattering all over your gray shirt.

“Easy!” he yelps, rushing to your side. You feel his cold hand press against your back and you lean into the touch, starved for it.

“What happened?” you ask between smaller coughs, following his hand and he lays you back down.

Idia bites his lip. He does not answer.

Instead, he turns his back to you and moves over to the desk grabbing the tablet. He still doesn’t look at you as he taps a few bottoms. He gnaws on his lower lip before twisting the chair to face you and sitting down.

“How much do you remember?” he counters your question with another question, eyes heavier than usual.

“I remember green.” you whisper, the intriguing whispers poking into the corners of your mind again, “I remember voices...they said sweet things to me.”

Idia winces as if that’s the last thing he wants to hear.

“You overblotted.” he says, so blunt it surprises both of you, “You went...deeper than you should have, and you overblotted.”

You touch your face. The burning sensation wiggles as if it’s been recognized, and is pleased. It’s like there's something under your skin, something alive and yearning,that was waiting for him to say it.

“Oh.” you whisper, and in turn, the voices begin to beckon you again.

“This is what it means to be a Shroud. Don’t you wish you three could live up on the surface, like everyone else? It’s not fair, is it? He deserves better. His brother deserves better. You all do. We can help you, we can make that happen, you just have to help us—”

“They were phantoms.” you breathe, tracing the lines on your face over and over and over and over and over—

You don't notice when he gets up and reaches for you. Idia grabs your hand when it looks like you’re pressing too hard, your nails digging into your skin. You stop immediately, looking up at him with glossy eyes and trembling lips.

“Idia...is this what it means to be a Shroud?” you ask, forming each word carefully.

The phantoms said as much.

But he says nothing.

“I don’t blame you if you decided this isn’t what you want, you know.” he says, tone flat and disinterested, like you’re someone he doesn’t even know.

“What do you mean?”

“Your phantom looked like it wanted to be free.” he says, tablet still in his hand.

He pulls up the footage of your rage and shows it to you—your crooked, clumped wings and your bloody, inky hands and your screams as you cry for freedom, freedom—

He misunderstands.

“Not for me!” you seize his wrist, squeezing it so hard you fear it’ll break but this important, “For you! Freedom for you! It’s always you and it always will be you! I wanted you to be free and Ortho to be free. I wanted all of us to be free—!”

You start coughing again, this time even harder. Ink splatters on your bed and this time Idia is on you, he’s truly with you, cradling you against his chest as the ink stains his uniform as well. It pours out of you like a dead, polluted river, and yet in a twisted way it’s a symbol of how much you care.

You vaguely feel his nose pressing against your head in the haze, whispering what sounds like swears and pleads but none of it reaches your ears over the sound of your coughing. By the time you’re done, both of you are thoroughly painted with the remnants of blot.

The voices are gone.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” he whispers it into your head like it's a confession, meant for your ears and your ears only, “I thought you...wanted to leave here. Leave me.”

His arms are around you like a vice grip.

You’re grateful you’re alive to see him be selfish.

“Idia...my love.” you say, equally as soft, “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to be with you?”

“It’s hard to believe!” he protests, voice cracking.

He pulls away from you, just enough to look over your face. His eyes are watery and he’s so vulnerable—you really scared him. His thumb traces down the parts of your face that burned, the parts of your face you know will be scarred for life now.

“Good thing I’m still here then.” you smile weakly, cupping his face, “I’ll remind you every single day.”

His ring no longer burns.

His left hand rests over your left, and your rings clink together as they connect.

You’re okay. You still want him. You’re alive.

“You’re crazy.” Idia groans, stepping forward and falling into your arms, “You are absolutely crazy. Any normal person would be running for their life right now, calling me a freak and hyperventilating. A normal person would never want to come back—”

His slumps over you like a big cat, arms encircling you in warmth once again. It’s his way of hiding his expression when he’s getting a bit too into his feelings—you know this by now.

“Goodness. It’s a good thing I’m madly in love with you then.” you laugh, hands splayed out on his shoulder blades as he hugs you again, “You know what they say about love making you do crazy things.”

“Please don’t ever do that again—oh Great Seven.” he squeezes you even tighter and you let him, putty in his hands.

“I’m not planning on it. I promise.”  you reassure him, “I don't want to leave you—”

“It’s not about leaving me, you could have died!” he protests, cradling the back of your head, “I’d be fine if you just left! If you were somewhere else...somewhere safe!”

“You would not be okay with that. Don’t pretend to be.” you chastise him quietly, and you know you’ve won when he goes quiet, “You want to keep me here, and you want me to stay. I want the same thing. You don’t have to pretend I’m a sacrifice that can be made. I didn’t fall in love with you because you’re noble or a goody-goody.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Then—

“I love you so much.” he mumbles.

It’s a rare confession, one that has never lost his sweetness even after years together.

Now this, this is what it means to be a Shroud.

It means staying with each other no matter what.

It couldn't be farther from loneliness.

“I love you too.” you murmur back, and his thumbs trace your blot scars as he presses a single, barely noticeable kiss to your forehead.

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?

Part 1 - Y/N moved to escape some of thier looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with thier tail between thier legs?

A/N: Mini Series, I guess. Intersex reader, looking for a new life. Smut, Angst, all the fun things. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.7K

Come Get Your Fix, Just Whisper It

The sun beat its way through the cracked windshield of the rental truck as you sighed deeply. Your tanned, inked shoulders pushed back against the scratchy fabric of the seat below, the dull crackle of a shitty radio echoing through the cab as the monotonous click of the blinker indicated your intention. The exit sign for 'Foxwood' blurred into view, its faded letters promising escape from the mind-numbing highway.

You hated moving, you really did. But there was something about Foxwood that called to you, something that felt like home, even though you had never set foot in the place before. The GPS instructed you to turn left onto a narrow, paved road, flanked by tall, ancient oaks that stretched out their branches like welcoming arms.

This purchase was made sight unseen, knowing you had to find something quickly before you began your new job. You had done the whole apartment thing and couldn't do it again. So the moment this house popped up for sale, your agent called, and you bought it blindly, knowing you needed it. You had high hopes for the place, something that would hopefully bring a smile to your face, something that could make you feel alive again.

As you followed the winding road, you caught glimpses of quaint, well-kept houses with flowers blooming in their front gardens. The occasional rustle of leaves whispered secrets as you drove deeper into the town. The quiet was eerie but also comforting, like a gentle hush that promised peace and privacy. You knew you weren't far, your friend was up ahead leaning against his car, waiting for your arrival. As you approached the home, you took in your surroundings more carefully. A few neighbors watched as your brakes squealed, signaling that you had come to a stop in the driveway of your new home.

Some children were walking down the street, backpacks in tote, indicating that school had let out a little bit ago. They were laughing and giggling, as they one by one peeled off of thier group and made thier respective way home. The sound of their laughter was like a breath of fresh air, and it made you feel a bit less anxious about the whole situation. The house was a charming two-story Craftsman, painted a soft shade of grey with brown trim. The porch looked welcoming, with a swing that swayed slightly in the breeze. The yard was a little overgrown, but you could see the potential it had to be a lush, green paradise.

As you climbed out of the truck, the heat of the day slapped you in the face like a wet towel. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand and walked over to where your friend, Pietro, was standing. He was taller than you remembered, his hair had grown out into a messy mop, and there was a new confidence in his stance. His grin was the same though, wide and welcoming, as he threw his arms around you in a bear hug. "You made it," he exclaimed, slapping you on the back. "Come on, let's get you settled in."

You followed him inside, the coolness of the house a relief after the sweltering heat outside. The interior was surprisingly bright, with sunlight streaming in through the large windows and bouncing off the gleaming hardwood floors. There was a faint scent of lemon in the air, hinting at recent cleaning efforts. Pietro led you to the kitchen, where a woman was unloading a box of dishes and glasses.

"Hope you don't mind, but I asked sis to help," Pietro said as you both walked into the room. She was stunning, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She looked up and offered a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"Welcome to Foxwood," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Wanda, your new neighbor and occasional pain in the ass." You took her hand, feeling the electricity between you. Her grip was firm, her eyes a piercing green that seemed to see right through you as they ran up and down your body.

"Thanks," you managed to reply, trying to play it cool despite the sudden surge of butterflies in your stomach. "I'm Y/N. I guess I'll be the new girl in town." You sent her a dashing smile before Pietro interrupted.

"Wands moved before I was able to introduce you two when we were in high school. Too quick to get the fuck out of Westview," he laughed, coming behind his sister and draping an arm around her shoulders. Wanda rolled her eyes playfully and shrugged his arm off.

"I don't blame her," you laugh, catching her glance back over at you. "Westview is a shithole."

Wanda arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Tell me something I don't know," she said, her voice light and teasing.

"Well, Wands," Pietro started, a knowing smirk on his face. "This one seemed to run every woman or daughter out of town. She's always been a little bit of a player."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the playfulness replaced with curiosity. "Is that so?" she said, leaning against the counter. "And what brings you to Foxwood, dare I ask?"

You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words. "A new job," you replied, your voice a bit too high-pitched for your liking. "And a chance to get away from all that drama. Start fresh."

Wanda nodded, studying you with those piercing eyes. "Well, I'm sure you'll fit right in here. Everyone loves a good redemption story," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "And if you need anything, I'm just next door. Now, if you don't mind, I need to head home and get ready for dinner with Agatha." she turned, hugging Pietro before throwing the towel on her shoulder into the sink.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "That old hag?" he teased, earning a playful elbow from his sister.

"She's younger than me, Piet. If that is what you think of her, I would hate to know what you think of little old me."

Pietro's cheeks flushed red, but he chuckled it off, slapping his sister on the shoulder. "Wands, you know I didn't mean it like that. I love you, I'm morally obligated to." he laughed, shying away as she punched him in the chest.

"Ass!" she smirked, turning to you. "Y/N, it was a pleasure, albeit a brief one. I'm just next door if you need any help."

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, leaving you with a strange mix of excitement and nerves. You nodded. "Thanks, Wanda. I'll keep that in mind." You flashed her another smile, moving out of her way so she could walk away from you and Pietro, and you watched as she left.

"No, Y/N. Just...No." Piet's voice cut through the air as you watched her leave. "Don't mess with Wanda," he warned, his eyes serious. "She's had enough bullshit in her life without you bringing your Westview drama here."

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "I'm not planning on messing with anyone, Pete," you said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Just here to work and keep my head down." But as you took a sip, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. You had a history, and it wasn't exactly squeaky clean.

The rest of the day was spent unpacking boxes and getting the house in order. The place had good bones, but it was clear that the previous owners hadn't put much effort into the upkeep. There were cobwebs in the corners and a layer of dust that had to be thick enough to write your name in. But every time you looked outside and saw the picturesque street, you felt a flicker of hope that this could be your fresh start. Pietro helped you move everything that was left in the truck inside and took it back for you before he went home for the night.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with a warm orange glow, you finally finished setting up the living room. You flopped onto the couch, letting out a sigh of relief that was quickly interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. It was Wanda, dressed in a simple sundress that made her look like she'd just stepped out of a magazine. Her eyes ran up and down your exhausted, sweaty frame, you were in just a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Once she made eye contact with you again, she smiled. "Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, holding up a tray of food. "I figured you'd be too tired to cook."

Her smile was infectious, and before you knew it, you were inviting her inside. The tray was filled with a mouthwatering assortment of dishes that smelled heavenly—roast chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. "Wow, this is amazing," you said, your stomach rumbling. "Thank you so much."

Wanda waved off your gratitude with a casual flick of her wrist. "It's the least I could do," she said, setting the tray down on the kitchen counter. "I know moving can be a real bitch."

You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious in her presence. She had an air of confidence that you hadn't seen in a long time, something you had lost amidst the parties and one-night stands back in Westview. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered every time she was near, telling yourself that this was just friendship, and Pietro's older sister- nothing more. But as you watched her unpack the Tupperware containers, her slender fingers moving with purpose, you found it harder and harder to keep that thought in your head.

"Here you go," she set everything out, all you had to do was serve yourself. "You can bring me the containers whenever," she said, before heading back to the door. "Have a good night." she winked before turning to walk out the door.

"Thank you," you called after her, watching as she stepped back into the warm embrace of the evening. The door clicked shut, leaving you with the tantalizing smell of the food and a sudden feeling of loneliness.

You filled a plate, the aroma making your mouth water as you took a bite of the chicken. It was tender and perfectly seasoned, the taste exploding on your tongue. You had to admit, that Wanda had skills in the kitchen. You took your dinner to the porch, the swing groaning under your weight as you sat down. The evening air was cooler now, and the street was silent except for the occasional distant laughter of children playing in the twilight. With the slight breeze that was cooling everything off, you decided to open some windows, and allow the house to air out some.

As you sat there, you couldn't shake the feeling that Wanda had left you with. You had never felt so...seen by someone before. It was as if she knew all your secrets just by looking at you. But you weren't about to let that ruin your first night in your new home. You had a job to start in the morning, and you needed to be well-rested. So, you finished your meal and decided to rest, getting yourself ready for bed.

The night passed quickly, and before you knew it, the sun was peeking through the windows, signaling the start of a new day. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the last of your weariness. As you toweled off, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you looked like a stranger—tired eyes and a rumpled expression that told a story of a life lived hard and fast. You vowed to change that, starting now.

You threw on some clean clothes and headed downstairs, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting from the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet without the clamor of boxes and the banter with Pietro. Thankful that you remembered to set the timer to the coffee pot, you opened the cabinets until you found the one that your coffee mugs had been put into. You poured a glass of the liquid, putting just a hint of sugar in it and taking a swig.

As you sipped, you glanced out the kitchen window to see Wanda's car parked in her driveway. A part of you was relieved she was home; the thought of seeing her again made your heart race. Another part was nervous. You didn't want to give her any reason to think that you were the same old you. You were here for a new start, after all. You stacked up the now clean containers that she had brought you dinner in and neatly put them in a bag before getting yourself ready for work.

You stepped out of the house, the cool morning air kissing your cheeks and making you feel alive. You walked over to Wanda's house, the bag of containers swinging at your side. As you approached the door, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that had suddenly taken over your body. You knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet street.

The door swung open, and there she was, dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting shirt that still managed to hug her curves in all the right places. Her hair was down today, cascading over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looked surprised to see you but quickly composed herself. "Morning," she said, her voice a little raspy from sleep.

"Sorry, I know it's early. I wanted to give these back before I forgot." You handed her the bag of containers, trying not to stare at the way the morning light kissed her skin.

Wanda took the bag, a small smile playing on her lips. "No worries, I'm usually up early. I appreciate it." She stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. "Would you like some coffee?"

You shook your head, gesturing to the cup sitting on top of your car. "No, thank you though, and dinner was delicious."

Wanda nodded, her eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before she turned away to set the bag by what you assumed was the entrance to her kitchen. "You're more than welcome, Y/N. Pietro said you're starting work today?"

"Yeah, I am," you replied, your eyes following her as she walked inside and then came back to the door.

"I guess I should have guessed," she insinuated, motioning to the suit you were now wearing. "What do you do, again?"

You took a deep breath, your nerves starting to rise in front of this ethereal woman. "I'm an architect," you said proudly. "Starting at the new firm downtown."

Wanda's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, really?" she leaned against the doorframe. "That's cool."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a bit more at ease. "I'm hoping to make a name for myself here, maybe even start my own firm one day."

Wanda nodded, her eyes thoughtful. "Well, Foxwood's definitely growing. Could use some fresh designs to spruce the place up," she said with a smile.

You nod, looking down at your watch, realizing you were really cutting it close. "I should get going, I don't want to be late on my first day," you said, taking a step back. "Thank you, Wanda." you smile, stepping backward as you walk toward your car.

"Good luck," she called after you, her voice soothing and genuine. You smiled, before turning around to walk the rest of the way to your waiting Audi. You grabbed the coffee off the roof, settling yourself inside. As you drove off to work, you couldn't help but think back to your brief interactions with Wanda. You had only seen her in pictures, and she certainly grew into her looks.

The office was bustling when you arrived, and the air was thick with the scent of ambition and freshly brewed coffee. You were greeted by your new boss, Mr. Castillo, a man with a firm handshake and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He walked you around, introducing you to the team. Each person you met offered a polite nod and a murmur of welcome, but you could feel the underlying curiosity—who was this new face that had strutted into their well-established dynamic?

The first few days were a blur of paperwork, meetings, and getting acquainted with the projects you'd be working on. You threw yourself into your work, eager to prove that you weren't just a pretty face from Westview. You had skills, and you were here to use them. You found yourself working late, working out, eating small meals, and sleeping. It was this same schedule, on repeat. Before you knew it, Friday was upon you, and Pietro was calling.

"Come out with me tonight," he begged. "You've been holed up in that house and that office all week. You need to live a little. Explore."

"Hello to you too, Piet." You chuckled into the phone, leaning back in your chair at the office. The clock on the wall ticked away the final moments of the workday. "But I'm pretty beat. I don't know if I'm up for a night out."

"Come on, it'll be fun," he said, his voice full of excitement. "I've got a surprise for you."

You hesitated, the thought of a surprise from Pietro sending a shiver down your spine. His ideas of fun tended to land you in trouble. "What's the surprise?"

"That defeats the whole point, Y/N. It wouldn't be a surprise if you knew what it was." His laugh was contagious, and despite your exhaustion, you found yourself smiling. "But I promise, it's nothing crazy."

You sighed, knowing that 'not crazy' for Pietro was still a relative term. But his enthusiasm was infectious, and the thought of letting loose after a week of intense focus was tempting. "Alright, fine," you conceded. "Where and when?"

The whoop of excitement on the other end of the line had you shaking your head. "I'll text you the details!" he yelled before hanging up, knowing you would change your mind if given the chance.

The day dragged on, but the anticipation of the night ahead kept you going. When you finally clocked out, you drove home with a mix of excitement and dread. You knew that going out with Pietro meant you would be meeting new people, and while you weren't necessarily a hermit, you were trying to turn a new page. You threw your coat onto the bench by the door, before stalking upstairs to your room. You sat down on the edge of your bed, peeling your dress shoes off your feet before undoing your tie. As you began to undress, you caught a glimpse of the woman next door. The elder Maximoff, lounged by the pool in her backyard, reading a book in a bikini.

The sight made your thoughts run wild, and your mouth went dry. You tried to shake it off, but the image of Wanda in that bikini was burned into your mind. You decided you needed to hop in the shower, so you quickly turned to get undressed and threw your work shirts into the laundry bin that would soon go to the dry cleaners.

As the hot water cascaded down your body, you couldn't help but replay the moments you had already with Wanda. You felt a stirring in your chest that was unfamiliar, a mix of attraction and something deeper. But you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. You had a night out to get ready for, and you needed to be on your best behavior. You couldn't have any distractions, especially not from your best friend's sister.

After a quick shower and a change into a black deep-cut tee, black jeans, and a leather jacket, you checked your phone to find the details of the night's plans. "Meet me at The Den at 8," the text from Pietro read. You had just enough time to grab a bite to eat and mentally prepare yourself. You grabbed a granola bar from your snack cabinet and chugged a bottle of water, looking out the back window as you ate the aforementioned snack.

Deciding you would take the bike out instead, you put your helmet on before starting your blacked-out Harley. You smiled at the feel of the familiar rumble between your legs, and made your way out of the garage, propping it up on the kickstand before walking back to shut the garage door.

"Be careful, Y/N," Wanda called out from her porch as you climbed onto your bike. She had changed into a short, floral dress that highlighted her toned legs and a pair of sandals that made you wonder if she had ever worn shoes that weren't designer. You nodded, giving her a subtle salute as you accelerated down the street past her house.

The sun had already set by the time you pulled into the crowded parking lot of 'The Den', a popular local hangout spot. The music thumped in the distance, a bass that you could feel in your chest. The anticipation grew as you stepped off of the bike, straightening your jacket and running a hand through your hair. It had been a while since you'd been out, and the idea of a night free from the constraints of your new life was exhilarating.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and cheap perfume. The lights were dim, and the dance floor was packed with bodies moving in sync with the rhythm of the music. You spotted Pietro at the bar, his tall frame making him easy to find in the sea of people. He waved you over, a wide grin on his face. "You made it!" he shouted over the noise.

"Barely," you said, sliding onto the barstool next to him. He passed you a beer, already cold and sweating. "What's the plan?"

Pietro leaned in, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "First, we grab a drink or two. Then, I introduce you to the Foxwood nightlife."

You took a swig of the beer, the cold liquid sliding down your throat, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in your stomach. The last thing you wanted was to go back to your old ways, so this night was going to be a challenge. But as you scanned the room, you reminded yourself that you had changed. You weren't that person anymore. You were here to build a future, not rehash the past.

The first few hours were surprisingly tame. You talked with some of the locals, who were surprisingly welcoming despite your outsider status. They asked about your job and your life back in Westview, and you kept your answers vague, not wanting to dredge up any drama. You danced a bit, but it was more about the music than the flirtation. And every time you felt a pair of eyes on you, you couldn't help but look over at the door, expecting to see Wanda walk in.

"Okay, Maximoff. Out with it. What is this "surprise" you drug me out of my cozy night for?" you shouted over the music, now feeling the effects of your beverage choices cloud your brain.

Pietro leaned in, his smile growing wider. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass. He looped his arm around your neck, dragging you out of the bar you were at, and walking you down the street to another. "Welcome to heaven, Y/N." he motioned as you walked up to a padded door, the door swinging open as a bouncer checked your ID. The overwhelming scent of booze and perfume struck you, a remixed version of Deftones pumping through the speakers.

You walked in, Pietro high-fiving some people he clearly knew. "Welcome to Velvet, Y/N." Piet gestured around, the purple and red neon casting a dull shadow among all the dancers on thier platforms, and all in various states of undress. You felt like this could be trouble, but you had agreed to this night out, so you followed him through the sea of bodies to the VIP section. There was a table with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses already waiting. "You know how to pick your spots, Piet," you said, taking a seat.

"Isn't it great?" he smiled, his eyes dancing back and forth from one dancer to another.

You nodded, trying to keep your focus on the conversation and not on the... distractions around you. "It's... different from what I expected," you shouted back. His eyebrow shot up, a look of doubt on his face.

"Don't tell me you've gone completely soft on me, Y/N. You would have been all over a metal strip club like this a few years ago." He said, pouring you a glass of whiskey.

You took the glass with a nod, trying to keep your cool as you surveyed the scene around you. The music was loud, the lights were strobing, and the dancers were... mesmerizing. "I'm trying to not be the playboy me anymore, Piet."

He laughed, leaning over to you. "Just because you don't wanna be a fuckboy anymore, doesn't mean you need to be boring." He nudged you, his eyes still on the dancers. "Besides, I own this place," he stated, in the most nonchalant way possible.

"Excuse me?" You turned to him, questioning if you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, you heard me. I own this." he winked as one of the dancers pulled him into the back.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. This wasn't what you had in mind when you agreed to go out. But before you could do anything, a figure caught your eye. Wanda. Dressed in a tight black dress that hugged her curves like a second skin, her hair cascading down in long, auburn waves, she looked like she didn't belong in this place. You felt your heart drop as she moved through the crowd, her eyes searching for something—or someone. She finally came up to someone, another woman, sitting with her at the table.

"Pietro, seriously?" you muttered under your breath, watching as he took the stage with one of the dancers, throwing money around like it was confetti. You watched as he threw himself at one of the dancers, Wanda laughing and shaking her head at his antics before he was pulled off the stage by another dancer.

"Don't worry, he does this every time he brings someone new to Velvet." A waitress dressed in a skimpy dress said as she came to grab your empty glasses. She had a pixie cut, green eyes, and a piercing smile. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she offered a hand.

"Y/N." you smiled, shaking hers in response.

"How do you know Pietro?" she asked, sitting down across from you.

"High school friends," you replied, watching as Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother's showmanship. She nodded, her gaze following yours. "He said he had a surprise for me tonight. I guess telling me he owned a strip club was the surprise." you laugh, shaking your head as you take another sip of your beer.

"Well, he does love to make an entrance," Natasha chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But he's a good guy, really. Really good boss. One of the best I've had."

You nodded, trying to keep your eyes from wandering back to Wanda. "Yeah, he's... something else," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched her. Natasha followed your gaze and smirked. "So, you're here to see the show, huh?"

"More like I'm here to keep an eye on him," you admitted, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "And maybe unwind a bit."

Natasha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, if you're looking to unwind, I can give you the VIP tour.”

You sat, thinking as the woman stood before you. "Sure. Why the fuck not?" You smiled, deciding that Piet was right. You really needed to let loose. 

[toffeebrew]

Ink sans headcanons!

Disclaimer: I don't claim anything to be canon. Although, I tried to make sure it didn't conflict with canon for the most part. Erm, I also didn't check the tag before I made this, so of any these are canon/popular hcs i didn't know before making this.

Ink has something similar to a bag of holding tied to his belt. He picks up little trinkets in the aus he visits (something small, of course, like a flower!) It can hold an endless amount of objects. It also stands as as way of reminding him of where hes been and who he's met! he puts any gifts he gets there as well.

He has this weird ability that if you point at something he knows the exact hex code and color name it is. Why? Not even he knows, but it may be a creator giving him knowledge somehow thing.

For his paints? They all taste a little different. They taste like, something? But the exact flavor is so vague it's "hard for him to describe". If anything, they taste like a whole bunch of flavors at once. A little overwhelming to the palate. They all differ in sensation as well, fizzy, smooth, milky etc.

(more yapping under the cut)

Consistency wise, they both smell and have the thickness of acrylic paint. Specifically that kinda watery acrylic paint you can get for cheap at a store (like apple barrel).

Each of his vials has three dosages. One vial is like daily usage. But they can sometimes run out unevenly depending on how bad/good that day is (ex: on an extremely bad day, he has to take more of a positive emotions) so he had extra markings to "top off". Given there's no consistent time frame hes in, he just takes them whenever he wakes up. [ note: this particular headcanon was partially inspired by @/the-local-eldritch-microwave headcanon lol ↓]

He can actually last maybe about few days without his vials, but his emotions just become duller after 24-48 hrs. Taking a sharp decline after about 72 hrs. Their mobility and mental health declines with it as well, so he'd rather not wait for the decline to start! haha unless he got stuck in some situation where he had no choice!!! :D haha

He tried chugging all his vials at once for experimentation! He vomited everywhere. He'll not be attempting that again. Too much at once...

He has a reallllyyyy long scarf so he has enough room for all of his notes. It drags behind him and also dramatically blows behind him when there's a draft. It tracks stuff in it, due to its length. The bottom of his scarf is all colorful because of all the crap hes tracked in it! LOL

If he ever needed it, he'd add more fabric to the end for more notes. I guess eventually it would get cartoonishy long. At least, until it became completely impossible to manage.

On that topic, hes actually quite messy. Although, its more in a "organized chaos" sorta way. He knows where everything is, even if you don't. hes also MESSY not dirty very clear distinction!

In my mind the reason Ink would have a gap tooth in my version is when he was a "sketch" his teeth were more uh implied? So when he's born (how the hell would you word that? conceived? idk) he now has a permanent gap tooth.

[waitmyturtles]

Last Twilight: Episode 5 reflections

TW: suicide

GORGEOUS EPISODE. OMG.

LOVE THAT WE'RE ALL LOVING ON JIMMY!

Okay, citing meta first. @lurkingshan covers nicely here a summation of the August/Ink LT/BBS comparisons -- yes, the structural motif is there, and I agree with Shan that this whole August situation is more fraught. Shan and @ginnymoonbeam cover Mhok's attraction here and here, and @grapejuicegay covers more of Aof's motifs here.

My own little BBS comparative moment: I was backstage with the boys at the end of episode 8, when Pran called Pat "my boyfriend" to Pat's face for the first time.

ANYWAY. I loved Ginny's meta of identifying both Mhok's caretaking for and his developing attraction for Day.

What caught me about this episode were Mhok's references to his sister, Rung. We saw earlier in the series, when Mhok kicked down Day's door to get to Day -- that Mhok does not want to repeat the mistakes he made vis à vis his sister.

Mhok lost the opportunity to cook for his sister again. He's able to cook for Day now, he's able to care for Day now. Mhok is channeling that energy to Day.

We also see Mhok being VERY. INTENTIONAL. about his timing with EVERYTHING related to Day. He's literally looking at his clock in the car while he and Day are both waiting for August to show up to that restaurant. He's clearly pacing himself vis à vis his attraction to and his courting of Day. The practice date, knowing where he was going to take Day after the failed date with August, taking Day to a bar. Everything is so paced and well-timed. The body spray -- Mhok is an intentional dude at the moment.

In light of Mhok defying expectations of who he could/should be by way of being a former jailbird -- this pacing is another defiance of that. He's a dude who used to -- actually, still, somewhat often -- gets into impulsive fights. Nothing is rushed or impulsive about his caretaking and courting of Day. Everything has slowed down in Mhok's life, much to match the pace of Day re-learning how to live his life without the sense of sight.

I want to say that a part of this slowing down is in reaction to what Mhok missed by way of NOT being intentional and paced with his relationship to his sister. What did he miss, behaviorally, that his sister may have been hinting at, while he was living with his sister, before her suicide? He may have missed some clues. She died while he was in prison. He had to process that while still in prison.

Mhok's regrets, his delicately bringing up Rung during these past two episodes -- are we witnessing atonement, absolution? Not entirely, but I think partly. I love to see a character just behaviorally GROW in front of us. Yes, Mhok is caretaking and attracted to Day -- AND he's growing in the face of a tremendously tragic event. Actually, TWO tremendously tragic events, as he also processing Day's loss of sight with Day himself.

We saw Mhok in quite a bit of denial to start the series regarding his sister. To see him continue to make references to her as he and Day get closer... we're seeing ever more holistic sides of Mhok that are giving full views into his intentions with Day, and it's just really lovely to watch them develop.

P.S. Namtan with the slightly messy hair? Me want more!

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Snooza Koopa

Debut: Super Mario Sunshine

Whenever you see sea turtles in media, they are always very well respected! We all love them and are in awe of their majesty, their beauty, their longevity, and more! And a baby sea turtle is such a classic symbol of courageous vulnerability, a precious, helpless little angel who you would be heartless not to root for. Sea turtles and their eggs feel untouchable, off-limits.

And that makes it so very weird that Super Mario Sunshine is one of the only places I have seen sea turtles and their eggs presented in an entirely NEGATIVE light!

Snooza Koopas only appear in one episode of the game, where Mario must kill them because they are eating some flowers. But it is also much more nuanced than that! Silly.

These Koopas are chewing on the roots of sunflowers who are PEOPLE, causing them to wilt! People aren’t supposed to wilt! Stop that! You’re scaring me! I like these sunflower people. It is always nice when Mario gets more Friends. But back to the Enemy of the day...

Snooza Koopas are, as it turns out, an invasive species on the island of Pinna Park, and not only are they not supposed to be eating these sunflowers, but they displaced the native Yoshis! Probably because they look like Yoshi eggs themselves. Maybe they used this resemblance to get close to the Yoshis, and then eat their eggs? Maybe that’s even a Yoshi egg shell they’re wearing as a helmet! I know I would exit the establishment if this exact situation happened to me! And so, Mario must cull this population, and hopefully there are many more out there in the proper environments.

I just love seeing that sea turtles can be Koopas, too! Like in Minecraft! Where Koopas are also sheep.

-END OF ACT I-

-ACT II-

What a creature! What fun. So unique from the Koopas we most commonly know of! The enemies in Sunshine were created by Bowser Jr. using the Magic Paintbrush, giving an actual, in-universe reason for them looking how they do. They gave lore to this Mario game. These Mario enemies! These WEIRD Mario enemies!!!

AND I DON’T LIKE IT! GRRR

Allow me to explain. Snooza Koopa showcases a great example of why I don’t like the concept! If Bowser Jr. created a new goopa Koopa like this to mess with the Yoshis, that would be fine. That would make sense. A messy little mischief.

But the Yoshis in this game were ALSO made by Bowser Jr., according the the Japanese version of the Super Mario Bros. Encyclopedia! In a vacuum, this also makes sense, since they dissolve in water. But then let’s remember the whole situation of Yoshis and Snooza Koopas. Yoshis lived on the island, and Snooza Koopas displaced them. This means that Bowser Jr. must have created these Yoshis- long before the events of the game, and multiple generations ago, if they already have a natural history on the island!- and then created Snooza Koopas to drive away his own earlier creation. It just does not make sense!

And another example is the Bloopers of this game! Yes, they look different from standard Bloopers, but we know there can simply be variants of the same enemy type. More importantly, though, Piantas are shown to catch and EAT these Bloopers, as well as Jumping Bloopers! If they were made of goop, I do not believe they would be able to die and be dried without turning back into their original goopy state. Also, they spit ink, not goop, which, yeah! They are squids! Ink is an absolutely perfect way to have a non-goop-based creature still spread A goop, to keep the goop mechanics going.

And we know our dear Cataquack, who is confirmed to be native to Isle Delfino, and who even would reappear in later games, unlike other Sunshine-exclusive enemies! Despite this, they can turn into goop when defeated in some methods, which just makes the whole thing more confusing, and maybe even kind of meaningless if you ask me. Maybe Goop is just some kind of primordial ooze and even Mario is made of it. Even you are!

So what do I think the deal with Goop is? I think it may come from Piranha Plants naturally! Petey Piranha is heavily associated with Goop, and he is not exclusive to Sunshine, and has been said to be a MUTANT Piranha Plant. I think he was part of Sunshine not because he was made from Goop, but because he is perfect for a Goop-related job!

We also have Proto Piranhas, shown above, which are Piranha Plants born from and entirely made of Goop, even more emphasizing the relation between the two! I’m not sure I think Piranha Plants are all made from Goop to begin with- they lay eggs, silly!- but I absolutely think they are associated with and naturally produce it, and Petey’s mutation allowed him to produce extreme quantities of it. Surely, then, the Magic Paintbrush itself was created as a result of extensive Piranha Plant research by E. Gadd!

And thus is the end of my Goop Rant. Thank you so much for to reading my post. I would like to hear YOUR Goop Takes!

[ququb444hm]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

part 30 / sassy man apocalypse ☆

masterlist

warning(s): *REUPLOAD* bc i didnt like the first one n i am in love with angst/comfort, possible typos, profanity, kys joke

rain pitter-pattered against the glass windows of mr. ramirez’s classroom as soft jazz filled the empty conversations of college students writing out their history essays due at the end of the week. 

“aw man. what the hell.” rin groaned as he accidentally wrote down the wrong citation on his worksheet. “mori, do you have white-out? i keep fucking messing up and i’m so close to throwing the whole paper away.”

rummaging through his green pencil pouch, the sandy blond shook his head with a frown. “think i might’ve forgotten it in my dorm, sorry. nn* might have some though,” he stood up from his chair, walking over to yn’s table which was as quiet as ever.

(nn = nickname)

keiji had just left to go use the bathroom a few minutes ago, the seat in front of his being vacant also because that student barely came to class, today was no different. the girl who was assigned to sit in front of yn was fast asleep and the other kid who was supposed to be in front of kozume had moved to talk to their friend across the room. this left yn and kozume alone together. awkward. 

but yn didn’t seem to care... or to notice.

actually, she didn’t even seem mentally present.

mr. ramirez was still getting used to being in a physical classroom after persistently having asynchronous classes for almost two years because he simply “didn’t wanna get out of bed.”— he often supported his statement by falling asleep after his short lectures and with the current weather, it was easy to do so. 

so whenever yn had history class, it was basically a free period. which was very much needed after the conversation she had the previous day with shoyou. just what did he mean when he said kozume was scared of letting himself be happy? so focused on the question at hand that everything around her all mushed together into an unimportant blur. the pen in her dominant hand moved on autopilot, creating messy scribbles all over her notebook– seemingly illustrating her disordered mind.

“yn, do you have any white-out? cause oh! uh-” mori peeked over her shoulder, seeing the black ink pour out of the pen and dance like there was no tomorrow all over the lined paper. “uhm.. yn?”

noticing her unresponsive behavior, kozume placed a gentle hand over hers, squeezing it ever so slightly. “hey,” his soft touch mixed with the familiar comforting sound of his voice lulled yn’s tangled thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment. “are you okay? mori was trying to talk to you but you weren’t responding.”

“hm? oh.” collecting herself, yn turned to face her friend with a smile. “sorry, mori.”

the libero raised a brow at the interaction, his eyes lingering on the physical contact of their hands that still continued even with yn snapped out of her daze. “uh yeah, all good, nn. rin just needed some white-out 'cause i forgot mine. so i’ll be taking this-” he situated himself in between yn and kozume’s chairs, purposely hovering the top half of his body over their joined hands (with his ass poking out because of the weird position) to emphasize his nonverbal disapproval at the blond, before dramatically grabbing the white-out and dragging it to the edge of the desk, successfully (and awkwardly) separating their hands in the process. “pleasure doing business with you.” he chirped, giving kozume a dirty look before trudging back to his own table.

“sorry.” kozume mumbled, turning his attention back to his work. he internally groaned, scolding himself for what he did. ‘couldn’t you just tap her shoulder? but noooo you just can’t keep your hands off her. stupid.’

“it’s okay.” yn reassured. “actually, kozume i-” the sound of the chair next to her sliding against the vinyl flooring made her stop her sentence– keiji was back. “nevermind."

as time drew on, it was finally the end of morning classes, and yet it was still pouring outside. even heavier than when class started.

“be careful out there!” mr. ramirez warned, watching as students bustled out of his class and into the rain. “make sure to turn your essays in by friday, midnight! each minute after the deadline is my increasing disappointment in all of you!”

“you sure you’re okay going with him?” mori asked for the fifth time as yn packed her bag. kozume blankly stared at mori, wanting to get out of the class as soon as possible because he could feel keiji staring at them, eavesdropping on the conversation. he internally begged keiji wouldn’t try to confront him about walking with yn. 

but, in all honestly…he was a little happy that yn had asked. even if it was because of tetsu. he missed her. every single fiber in his body yearned to be with her. hate coursed his body ever since that night. but only for himself. he wouldn’t, couldn’t, never blame anyone else, even keiji, for his actions because he knew that in the end, he was the one that told yn all those cruel words. so when yn asked if he could accompany her to pick up tetsu, he was grateful that they were able to have some time alone. just the two of them.

yn sent her friend a comforting smile. “i’ll be okay, don’t worry about me. just let coach know we’re gonna be a little late m’kay?” mori sighed, knowing he couldn’t change her mind even if he physically dragged yn away from kozume– they’d just find their way back to each other one way or another.

“see you.” rin murmured, ruffling yn’s hair before walking out with mori.

“which building is tetsu in?” kozume asked, getting his umbrella ready.

yn fixed the straps of her bag, waving at mr. rameriz as she and kozume exited the class before answering, “pretty sure it's on the second floor of T building.”

“ohh.”

“is that okay?”

“yeah. that’s okay.”

the walk to T building was quiet and a bit tense. yn fidgeted with her hands, shoyou’s words still circulating through her mind. she wanted answers from kozume. she wanted him to tell her why things were the way they were between them. but she didn’t want to force it out of him. she wanted kozume to come to her first. her eyes focused on the path in front, letting the sound of the rain calm her down. 

kozume on the other hand, he couldn’t stop staring at her. he never could in the first place. yn was just so spellbinding, and the rain wasn’t helping in the slightest. he had so much to say, but he could never find the right words when it came to her. he stopped in his tracks, holding onto the umbrella tightly. his free hand pulled at the hem of yn’s jacket so they were facing each other. “yn, i’m sorry.” his voice was soft. it was almost hard to hear over the harsh rain. 

the sudden gesture caught yn off guard. “wha..?” kozume’s apology, though expected because of how much they both knew his words affected yn, came out of nowhere. “kozume-”

“i know i haven’t been honest with you, but i..” he pursed his lips, mind going blank as he stared into yn’s inquisitive eyes. “i don’t know what to do.” his voice sounding desperate. sounding lost.

“kozume,” every time she said his name, it felt like a stab to the heart. he missed how her voice was laced with so much love when she’d call him kozu or koz, but now his name seemed foreign as it rolled off her tongue. she placed a comforting hand on his, returning the gentle squeeze he gave her previously. “you’re my friend before anything that happens. i don’t know what’s happening with you, and it physically hurts to have you push me away, but i’ll always want to be someone you can talk to.” her thumb rubbed the back of his hand, soothing all his anxious assumptions of how the conversation would’ve turned out.

her touch was so soft and warm, a heavenly contrast to the heavy rainfall. kozume’s features relaxed, his head falling forward to rest on yn’s shoulder. her other hand reached to caress his head. “i don’t want to keep hurting you.” he mumbled.

“i don’t want to keep getting hurt either, kozume.”

“i know, i’m sorry yn. please be a little more patient with me. i didn’t mean anything i said that night, i was just overwhelmed and i regret taking it out on you.”

yn continued running her fingers through his blond hair. she slowly nodded, letting his words sink in. “i don’t forgive you for what you said, and how you constantly kept confusing me before that night, but i’m not mad at you, kozume.” her hold on his hand tightened in just the slightest. “it hurt when you made me feel you liked me back and kissed me only to call everything a mistake, and it hurt when you told me you weren’t being honest with me just now. you hurt me kozume, but still, i don’t want to lose you.”

the two stayed in their positions for a few more minutes. allowing themselves to bask in each other’s comfort. yn was the only good thing in kozume’s life, he knew that. and for a moment he let himself forget just how much he needed her. but he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. 

he knew he had to talk to keiji.

“what took you guys so long?!” tetsu fussed. after what was about 15 minutes since the bell, the two had finally made it to tetsurou’s class. “and why is my sister wet, kozu!? i thought you had an umbrella??” he quickly removed his own jacket, placing it on top of yn’s smaller figure. 

“it’s raining hard as fuck out there.” kozume groaned, also damp from the rain

“why do you guys still have practice anyway.” yn shivered, wrapping herself in the added fabric. “i know your game is coming up but what if some of you get sick?”

“no pain, no gain!” tetsu insisted, grabbing kozume’s umbrella from him and pushing the two out of the class. “now we gotta hurry..coach called me like three times telling me to get my ass to the gym!”

yn checked her phone to see if she had gotten a call also,

2 missed calls from milo’s dad 🫶🏼 1 missed call from SUNAVABITCH 🤣🤣 3 missed calls from alcoholic (coach) ⭐️

“well, fuck.”

part 29 secret little personal diary <- | masterlist | -> part 31 old man

note(s): me when i lie n say i'll finish this before thanksgiving break but i didn't >p< (IM SORRY.) anyways.. am i or am i not dragging their argument too long like.. let's wrap it up kenma! also i don't like the ending..but i wanted to post SOMETHING so i might change it later. next part is also written.. but AFTER that r a few text msgs :3

✩⡱ taglist !! + @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sherryuki-callmeyuki @anny-bah @ast4rg1rl @sukunasrealgf @dani-shitting-around @whokillednyx @vernon-dursley @limaswife @sugawara-levi @sixxze @ryoiii @literally-a-ferret @444sunarin @llearlert @lloyd4x @usermins @2baddies-1porsche @vernon-dursley @lyzisbitchingagain @h3xi2g0n3 @l0v3do11 lmk if u want to be added (msg or inbox)ヾ(･ω･`；)ﾉ

[l3xdrigo]

Since it's my birthday today and whatnot, this is gonna be a special post :D. I'm gonna show some drabbles and short stories that I've been wanting to share for a while so enjoy.

(also thank you to that one moot(@acesw) that has probably read most of these already and has suffered through my ramblings, appreciate you a lot<3)

(Most of these are Vernetto and Vertin-centric cuz they've been taking over my mind for months)

"Familiar"

It's over, the fight between the storm and Manus, it was all over. Many are bloodied, injured and tired yet cheered for their victory. Just outside the Manus's hide out was a new world that will greet them, time will no longer move backwards yet only forward. Opening the door, many arcanist and some humans alike rushes out, yet a figure stood still in front of the open door. What a familiar sight, someone steps outside and looks back and holds out their hand "Timekeeper.. It's okay now, we won, let's go and see the outside world together. Where we are all free" Vertin gave a smile, a somber smile, "I would love that.. but unfortunately I can't join you.."

A click inside the darkness of the building

" I'm sorry Sonetto, enjoy your freedom"

A loud bang echoed into the walls.

doesn't this feel so familiar for you, little puppy.

Sonetto was in a state of shock, her mind not processing what happened as the blood seeped out and spread. "Sonetto! What are you standing there for, come get Vertin and come over here" Lilya was the one who shouted, being meters away from them but her voice still reached her ears. Then, the whole situation sinked in... Sonetto dropped to her knees as it seemed all the strength left in her body was gone.

The hound couldn't protect her, it's bellwether.

(Or the foundation didn't need their timekeeper anymore, so time to let her rest)

"Aftermath"

The last drop of rain had risen and the sun began to rise, the storm was over. Bodies gone and only clothing was left, the Manus's dark ink-like substance stained the concrete ground. After grueling hours and days of fighting, it was all over, time is moving forward again, both sides had an abundance of followers and martyrs fighting for two seperate cause, they all fought rigorously yet only one remained.

Vertin on her knees stayed there, unable to move as fatigue and the strain of injuries took a toll, but also loneliness. She fought side by side with her team, her family, her herd but she was the only one remaining. Sotheby, Lilya,Regulus, Ms. Druvis, Mr. Apple.. Sonetto, they were all gone, her suitcase was destroyed, the arcanist and humans she's grown accustomed to were also gone. Was it worth it? For the mission of returning to the present but to lose everything to the past.

"One man shall fall and one man shall live to bear the consequences of thy sins" were the last words that left Arcana; the mission is over, take off your hat and face the scene in front, repent and walk to the light, a new tomorrow awaits you, Vertin.

("Are we all alone once again"- The Gleaming)

"Longing"

Sonetto was walking through the halls, passing staff members and managers and exchanging greetings. She was called to get on set today as they needed to record a new scene for the show "Reverse 1999"

Being a part of this project has been great, she's met a lot of directors and producers with a platter of amazing ideas, actors who have made some show-stopping scenes with their talents and.. as she opens the door, there she is. Vertin, with her ash-gray hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing her outfit as the Timekeeper of the show, just minus the coat, talking with one of the managers, smiling and giggling at times as they both talk about how a recent interview went. Oh how gorgeous she was, even after all these years, Vertin was still the one who holds Sonetto's heart captive and it's both a heart warming yet painful feeling.

Both of them have been friends since they were 4, it took Sonetto to grow fond of Vertin as she's been known to be quite a troublemaker but eventually she warmed up to her antics, even if she had to get her out of them most of the time. They both shared a passion for arts and literature, they were interested in theater and would watch them as their bond grew more and more throughout the years. Those times had to end however, as Sonetto flew abroad for college, leaving Vertin and the rest of her friends behind. She's gotten busy and due to that, both her and Vertin have somewhat drifted away from each other, the regret is still eating her even today, to be able to go back in time and fix that mistake. Now, Vertin has grown into an amazing actress and also has made a lot of new friends, she's met some of them, like a girl named Schneider, a bit of a flirt but she's great. There were times where she has gotten a bit envious of their bond, to be able to be so close to Vertin and not feel like her airways collapsed when she tried to utter a word.

She's here now but the distance still feels far, funny isn't it, she thought, 'how are characters we play fight against the reversal of time yet all I want is to go back and experience the past we had before' Sonetto could only sigh deeply, taking one last glance before one of the staff had called her, maybe she wasn't so different from the character she plays.

(Or maybe it wasn't just the lack of communication but another event that left them distant; actor au)

"How the moon stares at the sun"

Vertin stared at Sonetto as she smiles in the sunlight, gently reaching out to a butterfly. Sonetto looked ethereal, her orange hair slightly flowing in the wind, green eyes almost shining as brightly as the sun. Vertin knew how beautiful Sonetto was before ever since they were children of the foundation but right now really proved that thought a hundred times more. Warmth spreading to her cheeks as she just stared at her for what felt like an eternity but the moment Sonetto looked back at her, she immediately hid behind the safety of her hat.

"Timekeeper, are you alright?"

"... yes Sonetto, I am fine"

Sonetto tilted her head a bit, like a curious puppy who's also worried. It took a while for the "stoic" timekeeper to regain her composure again, though still feeling her heart beating like a drum.

"Let's go back shall we, Sonetto"

"Of course timekeeper!"

Sonetto happily followed as Vertin gave a small smile;the moon cannot shine without its sun.

(Look, lesbians)

"Reversed"

Vertin fought against forget me not and some manus followers, both are in equal battle but Fmn has the upper hand, catching Vertin off guard and using an attack that exploded a chunk of the right side of her head to bits. Her body falls to the ground, blood seeping almost immediately as in Fmn eyes, he won, she's dead, there's no way she could get up now, the deep wounds of the fight and a good chunk of her head and skull destroyed, she's dead. They retreat as the storm is here, leaving the timekeeper's body to rot.

As raindrops rise from the ground, it hits the corpse, but instead of just rising to the top, some of the raindrops were starting to affect the body. Vertin is immune to the storm's effects, but it seems that some part of that was false. Colorful liquid like substance starts to form on the sounds and the side of her head, being reversed to their original state, slowly but surely. Reversing the atoms and nerves and bringing life to her once more. She awoke again after a while, breathing heavily as the storm do it's job. Slightly touching the side of her head that was originally exploded, it still feels like liquid but she can feel some part of the bones restoring, it's best not to touch it as it actually quite hurts. Slowly getting up, and seeing the Manus nowhere to be found, she needs to head back to her team, she's worried that the Manus might try to do something.

Fmn attacks were getting stronger as the timekeeper squad casted incantation after incantation, just when Forget me not was going to land a tremendous attack, a strong attack from behind the head was enough to knock him out. The group looked at the source of the attack and spotted a familiar blue hat, Vertin stood there, clothes bloodied and parts of her body weirdly had clusters of colorful liquid. They stared for a moment, not really knowing how to process.

"I'm guessing you would like to know what happened?"

"I- YES WE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW"

Regulus quickly answered back, Vertin internally sighed, this is going to be a long explanation.

(Vertin being able to heal in the storm was an interesting idea I've had)

"Clinging onto a thread"

As Vertin, Regulus, Sonetto, Mr. Apple and lilya are walking to Madam Z's office after getting back from the island and that god-forsaken first field mission, Vertin speaks up.

"Umm...Regulus, you know it's okay to let go of me now right? "

Regulus could be seen clinging onto Vertin's left arm and Mr. Apple was holding onto a small part of Vertin's hat, she shook her head.

"Nah mate, from the amount of bull crap we just went through, I'm not letting you go. And besides, I'm not the only one clinging to you"

At her right, Sonetto could also be seen clutching at her arm, looking somewhat calm but the way she firmly holds her arm says otherwise.

Vertin just stays silent for a while, and continues to walk. It would be pretty hypocritical of her to make them let go, as she herself has been holding Lilya's hand, the eagle has been guiding them back the entire time.

(It's crazy to think that the island thing was their first-field mission)

"Can you please stop taking their timekeeper away every 5 minutes"

The timekeeper squad was in Madam Z's room, currently talking about some important matters as there was a knock on the door, Madam Z gave the permission to enter as a foundation staff walked into the room.

"excuse me Madam Z, we need to take the Timekeeper for a few moments to evaluate some reports about the recent storm."

The staff was immediately bombarded with questions.

Regulus: You're taking her already?? When will she come back?

Foundation staff: in maybe a few hours

Lilya: And how long are those "few" hours?

Foundation staff: it is estimated to be around 1 or 2 if the evaluation goes smoothly

Sotheby: You're not going to bring her anywhere else right?

Foundation staff: of course not, just to the research Center.

Druvis: After the evaluation, is there anything else she would do after?

Foundation staff: umm,, it depends but I'm certain that it's only an evaluation, nothing more after that.

The foundation staff looks at Madam Z if she can take the timekeeper who's been standing next to the foundation staff and seemingly waiting patiently.

"Just let her take her leave as soon as the evaluation is over, but other than that, yes the both of you may be excused."

The two left the room and it felt very awkward. Vertin apologized for what happened, telling the poor staff that they were just worried about her after the recent events, the staff brushed it off, saying that it's fine. Though deep inside it was incredibly scary, even the Apple seemed intimidating.

(Can we please stop taking their timekeeper away, they need her as much as she needs them🥹)

"Sleeping in"

Vertin slowly woke up, the fresh sunlight hitting here skin through the windowsill of her room. It's been a few days since the disastrous mission that her team just went through, being put on break as all recovers. Something was missing, or she should say someone, getting up groggily, she drags her body out of bed and outside her room. After walking in the suitcase for a bit, she spots what she was missing, Sonetto.

She spotted her right away and was about to greet her when Vertin wrapped her arms around her waist, bringing her to a hug. Sonetto lets out a small squeak from the unexpected action but quickly recovers and wraps her arms around her as well. "Are you still tired? " the timekeeper only let out a small hum as a response, the two have gotten closer since that mission, finding it hard when both were seperated, so the two prompted to sleep in together, not like both of them minded it(Sonetto was a flustered mess at first but hey, she's fine) . Finding comfort and solace with one another, through their aching pains and injuries, both have enjoyed each other's company and warmth.

Sonetto looks at one of the clocks for the time, it still seems too early for the two of them to be up, the rest of their team still asleep. "It seems a bit too early for you to be up timekeeper, would you like to head back to bed?" Earning another hum from the timekeeper, both make their way back to the bedroom. Maybe sleeping in wouldn't be so bad, they are on break after all.

(They deserve some eepy and cuddles. Again, lesbians)

(Idk if I'll add more to this later but damn this took a while)

[godisaturtle]

Waywardtale seems really interesting so far, can I get some more details?(please info dump if you have time I love it when people infodump)

OK THIS MIGHT BE A BIT MESSY BC IT'S AN INFODUMP

Also I have the designs for a lot of characters! Still working on them 💔💔

EXPLANATION!!!!!!:

So this whole au revolves around Charlie, and she falls into the mountain instead of Chara, so it's like, if Chara never fell

And she's totally freaked out by the whole situation with the monsters because she was one of those homeschooled kids where their parents won't teach them things they don't want them to know, so she has no idea who or what the monsters are. Sooo she kinda kills a few monsters out of panic-- smaller ones like froggit?

But Toriel takes her in because she feels bad and also because that's just what she does

Charlie gets used to it a bit, but still has a weird grudge, especially for the people outside of the ruins? But she also doesn't exactly know who they are, not really

So flash forward a bit, they're now angsty teens and the Dreemurrs leave to New Home because the ruins are getting way too out of shape

However, Chalrie and Asriel had a huge fight, and turns out she's developed some sort of small agoraphobia? So she ends up staying in the ruins. They would've taken her with them but she didn't wanna go because she was worried about what else might've been out there

And so Charlie ends up being the new Toriel, taking care of the ruins and what not. Yknow knock knock jokes the whole shabang, but she doesn't exactly have the same bond as Toriel and Sans. Every time she hears a knock knock joke she's like "your jokes fucking suck" and Sans is like "I think they're humerous" ba dum tss and then she's like "that was awful....tell me another". Just more of Charlie needing someone to keep her company so she doesn't go absolutely insane

But the difference in this is, humans aren't really interested in the monsters rn since the whole Asriel and Chara thing didn't happen

So no one's coming down to the mountain

And Error is like "this is a waste of space???? They're literally doing nothing it's so boring" and so he starts messing up stuff in the universe to be like "oh, whoops looks like it's defective and it's totally not my fault"

Ink ends up visiting the au one day in the ruins when he's fixing whatever Error had done and Charlie finds him and she's like "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU" and he's like "NOO NO NO I'M SAFE I PROMISE LOOK" and draws some stupid looking doodle, which is probably the worst way to plead your case

They talk for a bit, be it begrudgingly, but he has to calm her down somehow. And then he finds out she's been alone all this time and decides to become her friend to keep her company. Error finds our and is like "YOU'RE RUINING MY WHOLE PLAN ARE YOU SERIOUS" His jealous rage gets the best of him for sure, but also just normal rage, and he attempts to destroy the universe

Again

And again

And again

And it's not really working

And that's all l've got

Just Ink being friends w her and distracting her from the fact that Error is probably trying to blow up that au

[ritzy-reminiscence]

─♣️─ Lackadaisy : Lacka-Lacy !

⸝⸝ tl;dr : lacy hardt has been on my mind recently, and after trying and failing to draw her properly i decided to make some general headcanons for her instead !

Despite being Wick's coffee fairy, Lacy doesn't like coffee at all. Or, well, she used to, but after drinking too much coffee after running on no sleep for ages and then suffering a day's worth of being locked in the bathroom,, let's just say she doesn't really want to drink coffee on a regular anymore. And if ever she does drink coffee, she prefers it with lots of milk and as sweet as she could take. And she'd want some cookies nearby as well, to munch on between sips.

She likes tea, actually ! Lemon tea, specifically, with honey in it. Or if that's not available, just plain water with lemon slices in it. She's not against sipping on lemonade during her breaks, either.

Speaking of,,, Lacy feel like a citrus girlie to me. I feel like she'd like anything with citrus in it. Especially lemons. Oh yeah, she loves lemons. Lemon cake, lemon cookies, lemon pie, the whole shtick. I daresay she likes to snack on lemons too, without juicing it or anything. She hates grapefruit though. She'd rather be held hostage than eat a single grapefruit. She says it's because of how messy it gets, but really I think she just hates the taste :skull:

And adding on to the point above ! I feel like she likes the color yellow (surprise, surprise). And turquoise. To her it's a really pretty color combination, and it reminds her of summertime,,, with freshly cut oranges in a cold metal bowl,,, and lemonade,,, and lounging on a chair in the backyard with the yard just mown.. (now i want lemon and oranges too)

I think her and Mordecai would get along if they knew each other. Not because of the whole "we both have bosses that drink alcohol and directly support the bootlegging business" thing, but more of the "we both like to keep things tidy and organized" thing. They wouldn't even talk to each other. They'd have eye contact for like, 0.5 seconds and they just understand.

Ironically though, Lacy's workspace always looks like a bomb had been dropped on it. There's books and sheets everywhere, half-sharpened pencils and pens devoid of ink spilling from the upturned plastic cup she uses to hold her writing materials. It's a miracle that Lacy manages to find her way around her desk without losing any important documents.

Oh, Lacy tries, believe me. Every morning and every afternoon before she goes home, she organizes her stuff by color, size, function, the whole nine yards. She's even got labels for everything! But sometime in high noon where everything starts getting so busy she couldn't tell left from right and up from down,,, well, let's just say that her current schedule doesn't really leave any free time for being neat.

She lives in a shared apartment ! As much as she wants to know her roommate, the circumstances of her work and the situations she gets herself into doesn't leave much room for socializing.

No sleep for Lacy. None .

Well, there's a bit of sleep for her, but it usually occurs in the late late late hours of the evening, where she has to open the door to her shared apartment as quietly as she can and then tiptoe across the room so that she wouldn't wake her roommate up. And even then it takes a while for her to sleep -

She keeps small potted plants by her windowsill ! Sure, she doesn't have the time to actually care for them, but she still strives to water them every now and then and give them air and keep them in a place where the sun shines.

Compared to her workspace, Lacy's house is,, actually pretty tidy? Well, her side of the apartment, anyways. When she has free time, Lacy would sweep the floors and reach under the sofa and bed to get rid of any dust bunnies. And although her roommate cleans up after themselves pretty well, Lacy couldn't resist washing their dishes or make their beds. It's gotten to the point that in the rare moments where she and her roommate do talk to one another, they quipped about Lacy being a cleaning fairy.

Lacy left their dishes rotting in the sink for about a week after that little joke, even though it's her turn to wash the dishes. :skull:

(And this isn't even a headcanon but like,, the name 'Lacy' just suits her so well ?? Like I look at her character design and then I look at her name and I'm like "Yup. That looks like a Lacy, alright.")

Oh, and one last thing -- being Wick's babysitter personal secretary had pretty much trained her to clean up after messes and follow up on meals and just,, pretty much be a maid ..

Whether she's conscious about it or not, she'd be cooking healthy meals for her roommate or leaving notes that remind them to take care of themselves. Of course, the roommate would love to tease Lacy for this, but considering what happened the last time they did that ,, keeping quiet seems like the better option -

[karkatting]

hi ramble about a topic that interests you

this is a threat

anon i'm taking this as an opportunity to talk about my stardew valley au i hope you're satisfied.

i view this au from the lens of it being an actual mod for the game, cus idk how to code or make mods. but anyway it would be an expansion type mod similar to rsv where there's a whole other town to visit that for the most part is separate from the vanilla game . and here we have homestuck characters to meet.

the trolls are human in this au (except kanaya who is a vampire) and while theoretially you could romance them there's more of an emphasis on helping them with their own issues and relationships with others.

i'm gonna just paste the shti i have in my google doc so i don't have to type everything out lmao. it's mostly about the characters.

jake

owner of the adventurer’s guild that he inherited from his grandparents. suspiciously is rarely seen actually adventuring

has some mysterious tension with dirk

friends: roxy, jane, dirk (?), jade (family), john

best gifts: prehistoric skull, emerald

dirk

on roxy’s suggestion, he moved from the city with his younger brother dave to escape a bad living situation

a bit of a recluse, often goes out at night to fight monsters

wants to start a horse ranch

has some mysterious tension with jake

friends: roxy, dave, jane, jake (?), rose

best gifts: orange, battery pack, strange doll

jane

a former big-name businesswoman who quit that life and now owns a local bakery

makes baked goods for all of the festivals

friends: roxy, dirk, jake

best gifts: cookie, pink cake

roxy

owns a pumpkin patch, grows various other crops throughout the year

frequently organizes community events

related to dirk in some way (cousin or half sibling? idk)

friends: jane, dirk, jake, dave, rose

best gifts: wine, star shards

jade

cheery gardener by the beach with a certain strangeness to her

owns a mysterious dog

has premonitions of the future and is thought to be involved with magic somehow but she won't talk about it

related to jake

friends: dave, john, karkat, jake

best gifts: jade, radioactive bar, roots platter

john

local prankster and runs the general store

optional trans storyline

friends: dave, jade, rose, karkat, jane, terezi

best gifts: miner’s treat

dave

lives with dirk

country boy dj, also into art

friends with a flock of crows

frequently hangs out with karkat and jade

related to rose

friends: karkat, jade, john, dirk, roxy, rose, aradia, terezi

best gifts: apple, any bone artifacts

rose

recently moved in with roxy

wants to be an author

studies dark magic

huge collection of books

friends: kanaya, dave, john, jade, roxy

best gifts: void essence, squid ink

karkat

young rancher

gruff and loud but cares about his friends. loves his animals

friends: dave, jade, kanaya, terezi, john

best gifts: crab cakes, pomegranate 

aradia

curator of the museum

a bit off-putting but friendly

friends: dave, kanaya, terezi, vriska

best gifts: artifacts

kanaya

local seamstress

spends a lot of time at the library

carries around a parasol in the sun, for some reason (she’s a vampire)

friends: rose, karkat, aradia

best gifts: cloth, solar essence, jade

terezi

blind

was gonna go to law school but dropped out

searching for her friend and roommate vriska, who went missing while out adventuring about a year prior

friends: vriska, karkat, dave, john

best gifts: cherry, spicy eel, cranberry candy

vriska

is missing

probably got cursed by a witch or something

player can help the characters develop their own relationships by raising their heart level and not pursuing a romantic relationship with either party

rose and kanaya

both of them are admiring the other from afar, but are too afraid to make any moves

dave and karkat

karkat’s emotional repression and dave’s sexuality confusion prevents them from becoming something more

dirk and jake

they had a messy breakup a while back and still feel something for each other but also will not talk to each other about it

[mamaemeritus-secondo]

Sepulchral Whispers of a Love Unearthed

Archive of Our Own Link

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Summary:

In the desolate realm of Sepulchral Whispers of a Love Unearthed, the narrative unfolds with poignant intensity. You, the reader, traverse a shadowed landscape alongside Mary Goore, a defiant punk metalhead. As he delves into the piercing melodies of life, the dissonant chords of impending demise echo through their shared existence. Within the labyrinth of their love, a tempest of emotions unravels as Mary confronts the agonizing truth of your terminal fate. Each moment becomes a symphony of heart-wrenching crescendos, reverberating with the mournful notes of a love entwined with mortality. Against the backdrop of Mary's leather-clad rebellion and ink-stained passion, the narrative transcends conventional romanticism. In the final crescendo, Mary and the reader confront the inevitable, wrapped in the ethereal embrace of a love that defies even mortality. Sepulchral Whispers of a Love Unearthed becomes a melancholic hymn, a narrative etched in the marrow of hearts, leaving behind the haunting resonance of a love that outlives the grave.

Chapter 1: A Confession

You strolled along the sidewalk, taking in the chill of the evening. The day before, you had come across a less-than-impressive poster in a gas station restroom. Now, as you felt the nausea rise once again, you realized it was the poster of his lame band. Seriously? He returns without a heads-up. "Son of a bitch," you muttered in frustration. Exhausted, you resigned from getting angry, but you knew you had to confront him, perhaps for the final time. The messy way things were left bothered you, and despite the difficulty, you needed some form of closure to make sense of it all. Uncertain of how to approach the situation, you understood it was a conversation you couldn't avoid.

With a groan, you headed to your familiar hangout spot, the park across from the vintage record store. You anticipated he might be there, reminiscing about the times when happiness was the norm. Grabbing a quick coffee, you waited, and like clockwork, he emerged from the store. Discarding your empty cup, you made your way to the park, the dusk casting a melancholic vibe.

"Hey, Mary..." you murmured, weariness evident on your face.

Mary Goore your former lover, fling, and best friend – someone who had shared laughter over inappropriate jokes and brought tears with adorable moments. He glanced up, the color draining from his face at the sight of you. It had been a while, and he regretted how he had shattered your heart. Yet, that was in the past, and he put on a smug face to hide the pain he carried. He raised an eyebrow, "What's eating at you? You seem like someone just took a shit on your breakfast."

"On it or in it?" you asked, a skeptical expression on your face.

Mary smirked, "Well, that depends. Are you hangry or just annoyed?"

"I... what...." You said shaking your head. "Look, just came here to talk a bit, if you got some time." You sighed.

"Hmm... Okay." Mary inched a little closer, glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, a typical routine for the goofy dork. "So, spill it. What's on your mind...?"

"Well, I figured I owed you an apology for how everything went down between us... it was, um, messy. And I get you've got your hands full with tours and stuff... I mean, I knew what I was signing up for..." You trailed off with a sigh, your words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

"Apologies? Seriously? You're still stuck on that?" Mary was taken aback, needing a moment to process your words. "Look, we were just a summer thing. I don't get why you're still hung up on it," he said, the cheerful tone replaced with a more serious one.

"Summer? It lasted a whole year!...I mean..." You hesitated. "Well, maybe I exaggerated our... whatever it was... a little much," you admitted, fidgeting with your shirt.

"Well, yeah, I thought we'd made that clear from the start... Why are you only now seeing that??" Mary's eyes were widening. "No, don't tell me you wanted more...?"

"Well...a year together....sorta implies more....???" You said looking at him like he was stupid.

"It doesn't if you both establish that nothing more was intended from the start." Mary's eyes narrowed. "Didn't I tell you that from…the very beginning?" His voice was getting steadily angrier.

"Uh, no. You didn't, actually. Why do you think I fucking thought it was more?" You said getting heated.

"Well, maybe you weren't paying attention." Mary's voice was now just straight-up mad. "I don't see how we had a whole ass year together and you still didn't get that I didn't want anything more than that." He retorted with a hint of anger. Somewhere deep inside, he knew it wasn't entirely accurate, but admitting it? That was a challenge for the stubborn guy with a big ego.

"Hey, my bad for getting it fucking wrong... birthdays, celebrations, presents, and hanging out together... what else was I supposed to think?" you remarked, making a fair argument.

His anger intensified. "All those meant was that I valued our connection and wanted to create happy memories, not that I envisioned some overly romanticized life together!" He was now yelling loudly.

"Those are just typical couple things!" you exclaimed.

Mary just paused, as if he suddenly had just had an epiphany... He seemed to calm down a bit as he pondered the truth behind the statement. "...I mean. We weren't official though..."

"Well only one of us was in on that..." You sighed defeated; your energy was fizzling out. It took all you had to even come here today, and this argument certainly wasn’t helping.

Mary seemed to be battling with his own thoughts now. "...We did pretty much everything that couples do though..."

"You don't say...." You scoffed walking to a bench.

"But we said it was just a momentary thing, right?" Mary spoke with a hopeful tone as he approached the bench and took a seat beside you. He realized he had made a mistake and needed to confront it. How could he have misunderstood things so badly?

"No...we never clearly defined it as a relationship or not...hence the confusion," you sighed.

After a moment of silence, Mary sighed and responded, "Yeah, okay, I... I guess... I mean, I should have been more explicit..." He muttered, "Look, I don't want to come off as heartless, but I don't think I love you..." It pained him to say those words. Deep down, he didn't mean any of it, but he felt like he wasn't the right match for you. Considering how badly he messed things up, he questioned whether he should keep hurting you with his foolish decisions. Just like when he left before, he felt the need to push you away to protect your heart... right?

"Yea, that much I see now." You rolled your eyes.

"I care about you, you know, like as a person," Mary casually remarked, giving a nonchalant shrug. "But that's as far as it goes," he added with a wince, holding back his emotions. He swallowed hard, determined to keep up the facade, to shield you from whatever might come.

"Wow, congrats on your big moment," you exclaimed, waving your hands. "Okay, fine... I fell really hard for you, God Damnit….And you know what? Whatever." You slapped your hands on your knees as you stood up. You seemed a bit wobbly and a bit pale.

Mary took notice of how pale you were and was puzzled by the way you stumbled. "Are you okay?" He asked you, slightly concerned.

"I'm fine. Just... doesn't matter." You said, walking toward the park exit.

Mary stood up and followed you, taking note of how you still seemed quite wobbly. "Hey, wait just a minute." He said catching up.

"What?" You said stopping.

"Do you... Need help getting home, or...?" Mary was still puzzled as to why you suddenly stumbled all of a sudden and was slightly concerned for your well-being. He just wanted to make sure you could get home okay.

"No, I'm fine. What do you care anyway?" You snapped a bit more from hurt than malice.

"Just a kind gesture." Mary tried his best to hide his hurt tone and failed. "I'm sorry if... Well, never mind." He sighed, before taking a step back. "Well, just get home safely then, please." He looked you in the eyes, clearly wanting some sort of acknowledgment of this last request.

"Fine...." You said, walking a bit more before suddenly vomiting in a trash can.

Mary seemed startled by the sudden puke-in-the-can-out-of-the-blue and was now concerned for real. "Damn, you're paler than a vampire's ass cheek, are you sure you're alright?" He looked at you worriedly, trying to suppress his emotions.

"Yea...I'm...I'm fine... " You said, trying to catch your breath.

"I'm not buying it." Mary walked over to you. "You puked, and now you're as pale as someone who's been dead for 6 days. I think you need, like, to sit down, or something."

"It's....fine...." You said sinking to the ground.

Mary crouched down to level with you, sitting on the ground himself. "No, it's not." He said seriously. "Look, if you need to, just lean on me. I'm here to make sure you're okay."

"I...I'm fine..." You said, trailing off. Taking some more breaths.

Mary watched you take a few more breaths, as his face was now also becoming pale from worry. "Okay, okay.. Don't try to keep up this facade anymore, you're clearly not..." His voice was now much more caring than bitter.

"I just....need to get home. Just...help me to the bus stop...." You said trying to make the nausea go away.

Mary got up and offered you a hand. "Yeah, you're in no state to walk by yourself. Let me help you, come on." You reluctantly grabbed his hand. Mary helped you up and leaned you on his shoulder, carefully supporting you in such a way that would put the least amount of strain on your body. "So, are you going to tell me why you're so sick all of a sudden or is that still 'fine'?"

"Just...get me to the bus stop...for the moment." You said trying to get the nausea to pass.

"Alright, I'll respect that." Mary said with a smile, before he picked back up on his pace. "Tell me though... How long have you been feeling nauseated for? And have you eaten anything recently...?" He sounded genuinely worried, and wanted to figure out what the best course of action would be once you reached the bus stop.

"A few weeks and not recently, no." You said short and to the point.

"Wait, weeks? You've been feeling sick for weeks?" He echoed, making sure he heard you right. "And you never saw a doctor? That's pretty serious." Concern etched his face.

"I just haven't had the time," you replied, avoiding too much detail.

Mary caught on that you weren't eager to spill more. "Got it," he said, trying to flash a reassuring smile as he supported you on your walk. "Let's sort everything out once we reach the bus stop, okay?"

"Fine," you retorted, a hint of coldness in your tone.

As he continued assisting you, Mary shifted from his initial assumptions of a romantic twist to genuine worry about your health. His words were softer now, a stark contrast to his previous demeanor.

We reached the bus stop, and you sat on the bench. "Bus isn't for another 45 minutes, god damnit. Just missed it, fuck I wish I had a car." You groaned.

"Damn, that does suck..." Mary sat down next to you, also looking out onto the road. "How come you don't have a car exactly? I thought you had that little red car?"

"I sold it..." was all you said.

"Huh... Any particular reason for that, or..?" The way you answered that question was very short, and left Mary intrigued.

"Pay for rent." You said still mad at him.

"... That sounds rough... You seem to be struggling pretty bad... Why don't you move somewhere with lower rent?" Mary looked at you out of genuine concern - If you really are struggling to pay rent and are now also missing your car, it doesn't sound like you'll be able to keep yourself afloat for much longer...

"It's as low as I could find." You said bluntly.

"So even with lower rent you're still struggling to make ends meet?" Mary sounded genuinely saddened by the answer. "Damn, it sounds like you're in a really dire situation right now..."

"Yup, not your concern though." You said coldly.

"Maybe it isn't my concern, but it still feels pretty damn sad to hear about." Mary looked in the distance for a bit, with a saddened expression on his face. "I know there's gotta be one way to fix this, so... Tell me, is money all you need right now to get your situation sorted?"

"I need a job...I...was let go." You sighed.

"You got let go from your job?" Mary asked, clearly shocked by this news. "But that's horrible... Damn, things really are terrible, aren't they??"

"Yup." You said distantly.

Mary put his head down, clearly feeling sorry, and feeling like it was also partially his damn fault - which it kinda was. After a moment, he looked back up at you. "... Maybe I can help you with that. But I need to know one thing first."

"What?" You said staring off in the distance.

"Are you gonna stop trying to get me to fall in love with you now?... Just making sure." Mary said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

"I....that....was never my goal." You stuttered, snapping out of the stare.

"... You sure about that?" Mary gave you a sly look, obviously not buying it. "You could at least be honest with me." He said jokingly again, although his tone clearly shifted from a joking one to a more curious one.

"I came to talk about us, yes....to figure it out. Get closure. But I instead learned you never saw us as a thing. Pretty fucking shitty...." You said coldly.

Mary stayed silent for a little bit, his tone now shifting back to the colder, and perhaps slightly bitter tone from before. "Look, I guess I apologize if I ever gave you the wrong idea... But why the hell would you want closure?? We never were a thing-"

"I get it now, don't I?" you grumbled.

"Well, yeah, but why would you need closure for an answer like that? You got your damn answer, now you just need to accept it. What more is there to say?"

"There isn't! I was leaving before...I..." You trailed off.

Mary's eyes raised in concern once again, seeing your sudden loss of words. "What? You were going to say something?"

“Threw up...before I threw up. And then you got all hero complex on me or something," you said with a grimace, feeling queasy again.

"Can you blame me?? You puked in the middle of the damn park and you're as pale as a ghost! How can you expect me to not worry after that??" His tone was growing heated up once more.

"Be....cause you...." You started to say looking pale and running to vomit in the bushes.

Mary's eyes widened in sudden shock. He immediately stood up once more and got up to follow you to the bushes. "Jesus, are you- Are you throwing up again?! What the hell is even going on??"

"I'm sorry, just.... just go okay....the bus will be here in like 30 minutes or whatever...." You said looking like hot dogshit.

"No, are you kidding? You can't be this sick and still try to go home on the bus... Who knows how much worse it could get on the way there..." Mary said sternly. "Now let me help you, damn it!"

"I...." you started to protest.

"No buts." Mary grabbed a hand and pulled you back from the bushes. "You're in no state to be left alone, so get that notion out of your head right now."

You scoffed.... "Left alone...." You mumbled.

"Yes, left alone!" He said in a frustrated tone before realizing how mean that sounded. "Sorry, look, I just don't want you to have a... a bad episode or whatever this is, all the way on the bus. You're so pale, there's no way they'd even let you get on the damn thing."

"Fine, then, I'll come with you?" you retorted with a hint of irritation.

Mary took a deep breath, pausing for a moment before speaking once more. "Well, it might not be the worst suggestion, though it pains me to admit it," he admitted with a slight sigh. "We could swing by my spot, and I could take care of you there. How does that sound?"

"Sure, whatever," you replied, closing yourself off.

"That's the spirit." Mary said, trying to lighten the tension. "So.. Let me just-" He went to lift you up so that he could help you the rest of the way to his house. "Alright, now just try not to barf along the way, okay?"

"I'll try...." You sighed.

"Good." Mary lifted you up into his arms leaning you against him, and started his walk back to his house, making note of how he had to walk slower with you on his shoulder. "So, I hope you don't take this personally, but I gotta ask.. Why haven't you at least tried applying for another job since they let you go?"

"Well....it's not super attractive to look like dogshit walking to her interview....." You said with a dark joking tone.

"Oh... So that kinda goes along with that 'struggling to pay rent' comment you made earlier, right?" Mary asked curiously.

"Something like that...." You sighed rolling your eyes.

"Damn... And you seriously have no way to get out of this situation?" Mary said in a more sympathetic tone now, feeling genuinely bad now that he actually heard about your current state.

"Honesty, why do you care?" You said coldly, but genuinely wanting to know.

"Well... I mean, it's mostly because I was the one who kinda indirectly caused most the stuff that is currently happening to you, so like... I gotta make sure you're safe now." Mary seemed to have realized just how bad he might have screwed up earlier and now wanted to at least do something to make it right. Although, it was still a little bit unclear about what kind of relationship he wanted to have with you, as his tone now went back to being much more caring.

"I see...." You said, pondering on what he said.

"Yeah, so I'm not just gonna leave you all by yourself like this..." He continued walking as he helped escort you back to his place. At this point, he was pretty much back to his old self, much more caring than before. "Now, I know you're still recovering from that puking session back there, but just so I at least get a sense... How long have you gone without eating anything, exactly?"

"A couple of days...two max." You said sheepishly.

"Wait, a couple of days??" Mary sounded much more concerned now when he heard that. "You haven't eaten anything in the last few days?! How have you even been functioning without food..?"

"I mean I try....I do drink water." You sighed heavily at the line of questions, mildly annoyed.

"That's not enough! You need nutrients and calories, otherwise you'll just... Keep feeling more and more sick and tired! Did you ever consider maybe trying to go to a food bank or something?"

"It's...not that...I just physically can't." you tried to explain.

Mary stayed quiet for a bit, trying to make some more sense of that comment. "What do you mean you 'physically can’t?"

“The nausea? Didn’t think about how that…would make it hard to want to eat?” You rolled your eyes.

"Wait, so you've basically been stuck with this non-stop sick feeling whenever you think about eating for the past few weeks?"

"Um... yeah, that's pretty much it," you admitted with a deep sigh.

"Damn... When was the last time you even got a proper night of sleep..?"

"I seriously can't recall... weeks?" You stated with a nonchalant shrug.

"Whoa... How are you not passed out by now? That's seriously messed up!"

"Just pure foolishness," you admitted.

"Well, that's not exactly comforting..." Mary mused, falling silent again as he pondered a solution. "I don't think we can just brush this off."

"I was kinda hoping to..." you sighed.

"You're not doing that. We're going to fix this damn thing, right now." Mary looked down at you, his face now expressing a determined expression as you just sighed once more. "Let me just get this straight. You went from working in an office to selling your car for rent money, to now not having a job so you can't even afford real food, haven't slept properly in weeks and have thrown up countless times just from nausea. And I'm supposed to just be okay with that?"

"Because....I'm not your problem anymore." You commented sadly.

"Look, I get it. We're not actually dating anymore, so in that sense, yes, you're not my problem. But you've got me worried now, so we're going to have to take care of this somehow. I refuse to let you keep on living like this and I refuse to let myself see you in such poor condition."

"Yea..." You said trailing off.

"I mean it, dammit! We're going to get you out of this mess, whether you like it or not. If this means you must move in with me for a while, then so be it, okay?"

"I can't do that...I....don't want to get hurt again." You sighed.

Mary's expression fell when she heard that. "Are you seriously going to let yourself go hungry just because you're scared of falling in love again? Is that really what you're saying?"

"Falling in love again? I've always loved you, damn it!" You blurted out, gasping at your own words as they escaped your lips.

"You..." Mary fell silent for a moment before finally responding. "...Are you serious?"

"Just... forget it," you said, shutting down.

"Hold on, don't just shrug it off," Mary insisted, pausing in his steps and adjusting his stance to meet your gaze. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that you still have feelings for me?"

"Yeah... I suppose," you replied, gazing into the distance.

"And you really believe I'll just hurt you again?" His feelings stung a bit, realizing you feared he might hurt you once more. Yet, deep down, he grappled with his own conflicting emotions, torn between the hurt he caused and the ache he felt himself.

"You left... What else am I supposed to think?" you stated frankly.

Mary fell silent once more, contemplating his words. "Can you... Can you at least let me explain myself?"

"Fine," you conceded.

"Just... Let me start by asking you something real quick. You're in the worst physical and mental state you've ever been in. You haven't eaten properly in days, you haven't slept properly in even longer, and you can barely function without throwing up randomly. Can you honestly even handle an argument right now, let alone some emotional conversation like this?"

"No... I can't handle it right now.... I am just so tired.....You said, looking pale again with another round of nausea.

"Right... So let's calm down for a bit, then. Just let me take care of you, at least for now, alright?" Mary was now visibly concerned for your wellbeing again.

"Are we almost there?" You said while you continued to help me.

"Yes, it's not too far off." Mary said as he kept walking with you in his arms. "You know, even though we've known each other for years, I find it really surprising how stubborn you can be."

"Yea....that'll happen.... when you're busy." You sighed.

"I'm sorry about that... I guess I just let my work become my main priority, and then when I finally realized what I was doing, it got too late..." Mary sighed. "I really wish I could have realized just how bad things were getting for you before it got this ridiculous." You silently nodded your head in understanding as you did your best to not to vomit again.

"Just a little bit more, and we'll be at my place. And then, I'll make sure you're taken care of." Mary stayed silent for a bit as he kept going. "And I'll be sure not to leave again this time, okay?"

You nodded your head once more. "Good. So just try to hang tight, alright?" Mary stopped talking as he finally reached his house. He went up the stairs and went inside, taking you inside and setting you on his couch. He took a seat next to the couch, and his expression went back to being much more serious. "Now, to what You said earlier... We'll have to have that conversation, just as soon as you're feeling a little better, okay."

"Yes....that's fine...." You said weakly.

"Good..." Mary stayed silent for a bit, still concerned. "So... You haven't exactly told me just how long have you actually gone without eating now...?"

"Three or so days." You said.

Mary was visibly appalled from what he heard. "Three goddamn days?! Why didn't you say anything?"

"To whom?" You spoke with a tone of annoyance.

"To me or anyone, for that matter! This is so dangerous, why haven't you tried to get some food, even if it meant going to the food bank. Or did that never even occur to you?"

"You...I have been trying to talk to you for weeks...." You said accusatory.

Mary was visibly irritated by your comment, his tone now going back to being irritated like earlier. "And so, you thought it was a good idea to just stop eating for days on end, just because I didn't have time to talk to you more often?? What the hell kind of logic is that..."

"I'm dying Mary...." You said bluntly.

[doctorhouse5343]

Hobo Heart is a librarian who owns the library called Fiddler's Green, he took over after the previous owner Mr. Gilbert retired. Despite his odd appearance, he is generally well liked by the people, rather quiet and polite. He didn't usually went out much so him being at the club was an odd sight : he was dragged in by his friend and roommate Corin (apparently he needed to 'loosen up and have fun'), even weirder was how he suddenly found himself being someone's fake boyfriend. The blond in front of them, who said their name was Desire, explained their plight, stating that the whole thing will be temporally and will last as long as needed but if there's any sudden romantic feelings that get involved, the fake dating would be off.

The terms were accepted, Hobo Heart wasn't really interested in love...Not after what happened with his last relationship. The next day Desire came to pick him up to meet his siblings, so far everything went well despite his apprehensions and nervousness. He chat a bit with Delirium, exchanged a few nods with Destiny and Despair and had a lovely time with Death and Destruction, who came to see his younger sibling's lover. Then came along Dream and Hob, the world seemed to stop when the white haired male saw them. Dream had icy blue eyes, ink black hair that was messy in a stylish way, clad in black and wearing a bit of eyeliner. His lips were a beautiful shade of pink and his husband, who was at his side, was just as breathtaking : beautiful brown eyes, a dashing smile, tanned while his husband was pale as snow, brown hair tied up in a bun and those arms of his were nicely hairy, and his calloused hand stroked Dream's skin tenderly. They exchanged a little kiss, under the gaze of a mesmerized Hobo Heart who was soon dragged to the pair. Introductions began and not so long after he found himself engaged in a lovely conversation with Hob, he was so enthralled by it that when Desire pulled him into a kiss that ruined the moment, he tensed up in annoyance. When it was done, he had hoped that the topic would resume but he was soon dragged into a dance, which made him look like a deer caught in headlights : he wasn't a good dancer, the only thing he knew was how to do an awkward shuffling of the feet. Eventually he left, not before before giving Desire a piece of his mind and defining boundaries. He then went back home, flopping on his bed with his little dog, thinking about that hot couple and wondering how long would this situation last. He sighed, hoping that he'd survive this nightmare that he found himself in

woo, that was a long one

[akihabara-division03]

Shian’s Thoughts on Oculus

Nadya Kuromiya

“Huh… I was wondering what the woman’s been up to now… you know, I didn’t really buy it when it was announced that she’d died.”

She turned the photograph over, revealing a clustered mess of notes in black ink and grabbed a red pen from a pocket on her garters. She did a once-over of her notes and began circling certain words. ‘Shinagawa,’ ‘Saitama,’ and ‘Chuhoku’. She quickly drew lines from each circled cities to the other.

“If I could have it my way, I’d use her skillset to help hunt down that fucking man… but I’m not stupid enough to attempt to hire her. I’ll be fine on my own and with my team.”

Meari Miracle

“I do give her music a listen from time to time, but outside of that, this brat and her whole band is just one massive headache. So far since her release from juvie, she’s been pretty tame despite that big mouth of hers. Unfortunately her band mates aren’t so obedient. Missing court dates with my business partner or my bail money and running off to the ends of the earth. You don’t mess with me and my money. Hah… this woman’s chill, but she doesn’t know when to can it. Hey, do yourself a favor and ignore the people who tell you to be yourself. In your case, it’s a terrible idea.”

Aika Yumi

“Ah, Aika Yumi, huh? I do like her work a lot, she does some great stuff. I’ve hit some Minato clubs in the middle of a few hunts and I’ve seen Yumi in passing a few times. She’s never come up to me or I’m preoccupied with… others. Who knows, if I run into her, I should greet her. She seems like a fun time. Anyway, fun aside, I’m not going to meddle in the messy situation she’s in with Keiko Yumi, it’s not any of my business. I mean, unless the job calls for it, but I doubt that’ll ever be the case.”

Oculus

“All together, they’re far from being a trustworthy team. But… I can get behind the whole ‘reveal Chuhoku’s scheme to the world’ idea. Maybe if things were just a little different…” Shian sighed and pushed the photos off her desk. “Doesn’t matter. It is what it is. Pixel Syndicate has to take that win, whatever it takes. It’s for the best.”

[srorgana1]

Into the Reverb (Kylo Ren/Reader)

Chapter Fourteen

Sneaking out of D’Kar studios was easier than expected. No one noticed either you or Kylo, positively wreaked from your previous activities rushing out the door to the parking lot. You stop suddenly, almost pulling his shoulder out of it’s socket. He grunts at the feeling but you barely hear him. Just behind Kylo is a brand new Ferrai 296 gtb gleaming in the waning sunlight.

You are pulled from your oogling by a low chuckle and a tug on your arm. “C’mon” he croons with a smirk. He opens the door for you and watches you slip into the passenger seat. You giggle to yourself at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Kylo flopped himself into his seat, adjusting himself in his jeans as he started the engine. You smile to yourself, he’s just as affected as you are. You shift in your seat, grimacing at the feeling of your soaked panties. The last thing you want to do is ruin the expensive upholstery.

You are pulled from your thoughts as his hand lands on your thigh, his thumb rubbing softly against the seam of your jeans. Affection and lust swirl in your chest as you smile fondly at him. Your heart fluttered as he returned your smile.

The drive was silent except for the music coming from the stereo. His hand never left your thigh. Your eyes roam him unchecked. His tattoos are darker themed, all done expertly in black and gray. The geometric design decorating his neck always drew you in.

You wonder how far it traveled or if it was connected to another piece. His right arm on display as he drove was fully covered; an intricate mix of designs that you didn’t know the exact meaning of. You look down at the hand on your thigh. The tattoo of a rose encased the whole top part of his hand, with the words SOUL inked onto his digits. You wanted to ask him the meaning of every single one. “Hey” he says, bringing you back to reality.

“Hey you” you say, rubbing your fingers over his hand, tracing the lines. His hand gripped your leg tighter. “What does this one mean?” you say, tracing the S on his pointer finger. “That I’m my own person, no one else's” he says as he stares out the windshield.

You hum at his response as you trace the rest of the letters and the spade on his thumb. He turned left and suddenly removed his hand from leg, hitting a hidden button by the center console. “We’re here” he said, pulling into a building’s parking garage.

You can feel your anxiety starting to build as he parked the car. Was this a good idea? Was it too soon? You literally had your first two dates and first argument in the last seventy-two hours.

You could feel your breathing start to increase as your mind began to swirl. Your door opened suddenly, making you jump. His hands enveloped your face as he looked at you. “Stop overthinking it, it's just us” he said, his thumps rubbing the apples of your cheeks as he kissed your forehead. You relaxed in his hold.

"We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with” he said, as he stepped back, offering you his hand. You could feel in your heart and soul this was a pivotal moment. This decision will change the course of this relationship, for better or worse. You take a deep breath, looking into those amber eyes and take his hand.

You don’t let go of his hand as he leads you into a very minimalistic lobby and into an elevator. He lets go of your hand then wraps his arms around you, pulling you back into his chest. You revel in the feeling of his muscles around you. He says nothing, just nuzzles his nose in your messy hair.

The elevator rings, opening up to his floor. He keeps one arm wrapped around you as he leads you to his door. His building is infinitely nicer than your building. He scans his Apple watch to the lock on his door and it clicks open. “Fancy” you mumble dryly as he leads you inside.

You hear him chuckle at your comment as he ushered you inside. Yes, it's confirmed his place is WAY nicer than yours. You grimace in retroactive embarrassment as you view his minimally decorated space. There’s just enough to show someone lives here but it is devoid of homely touches. As your mother said, it's not a home without a plant or two.

You feel him approach you, wrapping his arms around your middle again. “I know it's not much, I’m not here often enough to make it my own” he says with a shrug. You shake your head, as you turn in his arms, facing him. “Just need a couple plants,” you say, kissing his cheek. You jump slightly at the loud bark of laughter. “Baby girl, I’m a black thumb believe me you don’t want any plants anywhere near here” he said pulling you closer.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head on his chest, enjoying the feeling of his steady heartbeat. It makes you feel safe. You nuzzle at his chest. You feel him sigh as a hand lifts your chin to face him, kissing you softly.

Your fingers start to run through his inky strands. The simmering heat in your veins rises as you feel his tongue softly lick at your lips. You oblige him and are graced with his velvet tongue and a low moan of pleasure. You need him. He has kept you on edge for long enough.

You tug on his hair hard, making him grunt. “Bedroom” you say between open mouth kisses. You hear him hum against your lips as he picks you up again. You cling to him, pressing kisses along his throat, your tongue tracing some of the tattooed lines.

Your back hits soft bedding as you both break for air. Kylo hovers over you, his cheeks flushed. His darkened eyes dart over your body, debating where to start first. You shiver involuntarily due to his lustful gaze. You sit up slightly and remove your blouse quickly, your nipples hardening due to the cool air.

You watch as his eyes widen as his hands move up your torso, feeling your soft skin. “Fuck” he groans as he leans over you, kissing your shoulders and neck. Your hands are in his hair as you shift your hips, grinding slightly on his thigh catching a slight feel of him. He grunts as you tug at his shirt, desperate for more of him.

“Take this off” you whine, your hands caressing his chest. He responds with a low laugh as he continues to kiss and nip at the top of your breasts. You watch him sit back and pull his t-shirt over his head, giving you a smug look. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sight of his chiseled chest, surprisingly void of tattoos.

His neck tattoo is framed by laurel wreath collar tattoos. His muscles flex under your gaze. “I don’t even have to ask, do I?” he chuckled, rubbing your thighs with his large hands. You rolled your eyes as he climbed back up your body, kissing you hard.

He growls as he pushes you down, ripping off your bralette as he positions himself between your legs. You yelp as he licks and bites your nipple, your back arching at the contact. He wraps an arm around you as the other works to remove your jeans. “I could feel you earlier baby, I bet you’re even wetter right now” he says, licking up your neck. You moan raggedly, your hands floating between his chest and shoulders.

His large hand cups your mound and you hear him groan over your whimpers. His touch is light but experienced as he strokes your folds. His large, calloused fingers sent shockwaves of pleasure though you as he played you like his precious Fender. Your hips roll, matching his pace.

“Kylo please” you whine, needing more. You gasp loudly as his hand shifts, two large fingers entering you quickly. The burn was quick and the stretch exquisite. He grunts as he picks up the rhythm, scissoring you as he ruts into your thigh. “So fucking perfect, I knew you would be” he says as your face contorts with pleasure.

You are so close. You feel the pressure in your belly mounting as you pull him down, kissing and nipping at his neck and shoulder. “Ky…” you say shakily as you keen at his neck. “That’s it baby girl, come on my fingers, then you can have my cock" he groans, his eyes never leaving you.

His deep voice along with his movements send you over the edge, screaming as you gush on his hand. Your hips shudder and your whole body convulses, a white light temporarily blinding you. Your head drops onto the bed, body singing his praises.

He pulls his fingers slowly and sits back, looking at his wet fingers. Your rough breathing hitches as he begins to lick his fingers clean, palming his cock through his jeans. “Hmmm, you taste amazing” he mused as his fingers left his mouth with a wet pop.

He chuckles as you stare at him. “I want to drink it right from you” he says kissing right above your aching pussy. Your hands go to his hair and pull desperately. “Please Kylo, stop teasing” you whine. You need him so badly.

He hummed and kissed you as your hand snaked between you two, undoing his belt. You could feel his cock through the cotton of his boxers, hot and hard. You gripped what you could of him, causing him to hiss. You continue to kiss him, removing your hand to help him remove the last annoying layers.

His hard cock smacks you in the stomach. You could feel how long and wide he is. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with. But he will make it good, you told yourself, you had to trust him.

His lips leave yours as he shifts above you. You see him take himself in hand, lazily pumping as he looks into your eyes. “You okay?” he rasps, his chest and cheeks flushed. You look down momentarily at his cock, the head red and angry.

"Baby girl, I got you okay. I promise" he croons as he cradles your face. “You tell me if it’s too much okay?” his thumb rubbing your cheek. Your remaining anxiety vanishes as you look into his soulful eyes. He’s not here for a quick fuck. He feels the connection, just like you do. “I trust you Kylo” you say, smiling and kissing his palm.

He raises one of your legs around his hip, opening you up wider. You gasp as you feel him rub himself through your folds, gathering your wetness. You both gasp and groan as he notches himself at your entrance and slowly slides a couple inches in. You reach for his face and kiss him, swallowing his moans.

He felt huge inside you. His fingers prepped you well, but he was still a lot. You shift your hips up, grimacing slightly. “Babe?” he whispers, “Baby look at me." You open your eyes and see that he is trembling, holding himself steady.

“I’m okay” you huff, rocking your hips against him “Just move”. He nods as he kneels on the bed shifting the angle. It’s better. You moan out a yes as you feel the slide of his cock. You can feel every ridge and vein. “Fuck you’re so tight baby, fuck” he moans, gripping your leg and hip hard, sinking in more. Your hands grip his arms as you meet his thrusts.

Your breathing increases as his hand shifts to your clit. He plays you perfectly as his cock hits that elusive special spot. “Please, please” you whine, bucking your hips, greedy for more of him. You pull him down on top of you again and kiss him hard. Your hands lock on to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. He grunts as he grips you tight, his thrusts quickening.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hits your cervix. “Kylo…Ky…I’m…” you moan, almost delirious at the feeling. “Baby…so good… Fuck…so lucky to fuck you…to feel you… cum for me sweetheart” he rambled, nipping at your neck. You let loose, screaming his name, riding the waves of ecstasy flowing through you as you writhe under him. Your pussy grips and flutters around him as he bucks into you frantically.

“Fuck, baby, oh fuck” he growled, kissing you quickly. You watch his face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure as he raises up on his elbows, grunting loudly as he spills into you. You hum through the aftershocks at the feeling of him twitching inside you painting your insides white.

You take big lungfuls of air as your body comes down from its peak. Kylo hovers above you panting hard. In one fluid motion, Kylo wrapped his arms around you and rolled onto his side. “didn’t want to squish you” he huffs, running his fingers through your hair.

“Yes, thank you for being so considerate” you mumble into the crook of his neck. You feel him chuckle at your retort and press a kiss on top of your head. “You’re amazing Y/N” he said with a sigh, rubbing his hands along your bare back. Your face warms at his praise. “You aren’t so bad yourself handsome” you replay, shifting your hips around his half hard cock.

You both groan as he slips out of you. You grimace at the feeling as well as the amount of fluid which escapes you. You know it’s natural, but it still feels gross. A finger lifts your chin so your eyes can meet his. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his face full of concern.

You kiss his swollen lips gently while pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s nothing Kylo” you say, kissing him again. “Just feel a little gross that’s all, it’s not a big deal” you shrug, hoping your admission will calm him. “Oh ok, c’mon then” he said, rolling off the bed.

You barely had time to say anything before he picked you up bridal style and waltzed into the bathroom you didn’t even know was there. “Kylo! What are you doing? Put me down!” you squeal, wiggling in his hold. He squeezed you tighter and laughed. “Nope, gotta clean up my dirty girl before I can have her again” he growled in your ear as he walked into the massive glass shower, flipping on the spray.

Thank you for all your continued love and support, its my first try at this - be nice please 😣😅 love my girls @asnackdriver, @ladyzimmerman, @the-wayward-rose, @thepilotanon, @punk-in-docs 💖

[silviathebard]

Method Murder

CW: murder, blood, alcohol

Inspired by A Lesson in Vengeance by Victoria Lee (I love that book).

Synopsis: An author is writing a book about murder, and decides the best way to write it realistically is through experience....

“How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole story.” - The Tell-Tale Heart, Edgar Allen Poe

Winter had always been her favorite time of the year. She loved the quietness of it, the sacrifice that came with the first frost, the final snow. The fish wriggling in the water as the lake froze over, the numbness as she lost feeling in her toes and fingers when she stayed out too long in the snow. Everything had a price. Often, it was pain. She should know. New York in the winter was especially interesting. What a city, New York. Thousands of people milling about, their own separate joys and pains as they all passed by blissfully unaware of anybody else’s. Here, you could be anybody, go anywhere, and you where still one in millions of others. It was one of the few places that made her feel small enough that she became careless. And when she was careless, the words flowed easily. No more wondering about the placement of every letter, every word in relation to the next. She just let the road of the story twist and turn and detour in any which way. After all, she was just one person typing furiously trying to finish a chapter. Nothing special, not here. Not like Charleston. Where she had to write in the darkness with a flashlight under the covers as she scrambled to write down everything in unrecognizable handwriting that she would struggle to decipher the next morning.

Speaking of which, her agent was on her tail to finalize the last scene, the completion of 3 years work. But she just couldn’t twist the ink into the perfect shape to convey the heartbreak and delusion in that final scene. The horror as her main character saw the blood dripping from the curtains and the stained floor. The moment she realized it was her who had been in possession of the knife as it cut into the soft flesh of skin and dug deep as red liquid dripped down.

How could a writer possibly show such human feelings? That was why she was on her way now to Ray, her agent. To gather inspiration. She walked past the snow-covered central Park and reached her agent’s apartment, an alarm red apartment, easy to spot. A disadvantage to Ray, although her agent didn’t know it yet. She walked up to the steps and spoke into the intercom, asking to meet a certain Ray Wilder. She was buzzed in and immediately went to 22E, Ray’s apartment number. When she arrived, it was apparent that Ray had expected her to call first. Her agent, however, still graciously opened the door. Ray was around the age of she, so young to be thrust into a high-demanding job, often times with picky clients. She was not ashamed to say that she herself was one of them. Ray was bright and universally kind, the type of person who always knew what to do in any situation. Even when she was angry (as she often times was with such clients), she held a certain standard to herself. Never petty, never vindictive.

When Ray opened the door, the first thing she said was, “Oh! I thought you would call first. Well…… how did you know which one was my apartment anyway?”

She, of course, had an answer ready. “I asked the woman at the desk, Daisy, I think? She didn’t sound very happy that somebody was visiting you.” Her main character, Camilla, would be proud of her deception skills.

Ray snorted. “Understatement. I made one joke about her name and now she hates me forever. I mean, who names their child Daisy Tulip anyway?”

She shrugged and let Ray bring her in. Ray’s apartment was in a state of “messy organization”, as she liked to call it. A large pile of dishes sat in the sink, waiting to be washed. Laundry was strewn inside and overflowing some dingy baskets. Clearly, Ray had been in quite the crunch to convince the publishing manager to give an extension.

Ray cut to the chase quickly. She took out a bottle of cheap red wine from her fridge and two glasses as she said, “So, obviously since you’re quite the method writer, you might want to search up on the psyche of a killer. What motivates them.” She almost sighed in annoyance but caught herself at the last second. She needed to keep Ray disarmed, for the sake of the plan. But, really? Of course, she’d read and researched all there was on the internet, after 3 years of being her agent, Ray was still so blindsided by her own innocence.

“That sounds interesting…. But I think I’ve read all there is…isn’t there anything else I can do?” She said slowly, trying not to let her words slur and mix together like she usually did when she was cross.

Ray sighed. “I don’t know what else to tell you. Aside from actually committing murder, there’s not much more you can do.” Ray, amused at her own joke, started giggling. Perhaps the wine had gotten to her already. She didn’t notice that the writer herself hadn’t joined in the laughter.

When Ray had recovered from her giggling fit she said, “ Well maybe we should try working with what we already ha-”

“No. It needs to be perfect.” Finally, something that wasn’t a lie. Dear reader, you might think that I enjoy this deception (or should it be she? Funny how the lines blur…), but truly, it is quite meticulous.

By now, the alcohol had made Ray’s mind wander to whatever topic she fancied. For the time being, she could relax. She fingered the smooth glass resting peacefully in her pocket, unaware of the bloodshed it would soon cause. It was almost time.

Ray continued talking about some boyfriend she’d had in college once, lost chances blah, blah, blah. The writer tuned out Ray’s insistent chatter and instead removed the vial from her pocket, very slowly.

“Shall I get another bottle of wine?” She asked slowly, although, in Ray’s drunken state, there was really no point in caution. Ray just giggled and nodded, onto some story about a bank scam. I felt bad for her at that moment, really, what a shame it was to die - or, shall I say kick the bucket for the sake of the children - in such a mundane way. Ray, did not deserve this type of death, the effortlessly selfless person she was. I, however, am not.

[nrnyx]

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

Oh goodness, so my whole Sterek fic Wicked Ink has been so enjoyable to write. I make myself laugh constantly writing and rereading it. Stiles is just hilarious in this one, and that's kind of weird to say since I'm the writer, but I swear it's like I don't even know what's going to come out of Stiles' mouth myself sometimes. I don't even know if I can pick a moment but...

“If you don’t mind me asking. How did you two meet? I mean no offense, but I have to admit I’m insanely curious. You’re not Derek’s usual type. You seem far too interesting for my nephew. He usually goes for more… boring personalities.” A woman who looked a lot like Derek’s dad asked from across the table.

Stiles could tell by the amusement dancing in her eyes as she looked at Derek that Laura and Cora definitely got their humor from their dad’s side of the family. Stiles also didn’t miss how the Jennifer woman shot a sharp glare across the table, and he filed that away for later. There was some history there then - not that Stiles hadn’t already suspected it with the way she looked at Derek.

It also hadn’t escaped Stiles’ notice that Derek didn’t look at her. In fact, he seemed to actively be avoiding any kind of interaction with her, even just a glance, which meant there was some potentially serious and uncomfortable history there they would have to unpack at some point. That was okay exes didn’t scare Stiles. He had an uncomfortable one of his own, after all.

Jennifer was pretty enough, but she did look boring as fuck and stuck up. That could also be the reason Derek’s mother seemed so frosty toward him. Jennifer was her emissary, which meant they were close - which meant whatever this was, it was probably a messy family drama situation, and Stiles was now part of it. Lucky for Derek, he was hot as the sun, totally worth it, and Stiles wasn’t scared of getting a little messy for the right reasons.

“Oh, it’s a heartwarming story, really,” Stiles started, smiling as he saw Derek’s hand move to cover his eyes as if it could hide himself from the trainwreck that was about to happen. “So his pack came into my shop.”

“Your shop?”

“My tattoo parlor.”

“You own a tattoo parlor?”

“Yes, in Beacon Hills. It’s my hometown.”

“So you’re a tattoo artist and a musician?”

“Yes, I offered to do a tattoo for Baby Boy.”

“Baby Boy?”

“Isaac… you know, tall, curly hair, completely adorable but could commit murder - Baby Boy… anyway, they dragged this guy along the next time they came in,” Stiles patted Derek on his perfectly broad chest. “And let me tell you, when I laid eyes on him - the guy should really come with a warning, honestly. I mean, the genetics in your family are crazy impressive, and this guy is just a masterpiece. Generations in the making. He was like - like the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. My brain couldn’t even process the level of perfect alpha specimen standing there. It was pretty much love at first sight, and I said to him - I said -”

A large, firm hand grabbed the back of his neck and snatched him up like a disobedient pup, and Stiles was honestly surprised it had taken Derek so long.

“Stiles, you are not about to repeat what you said in front of my grandmother, parents, and the pups,” Derek warned, voice low and commanding in a way that did things to Stiles he was sure the other adult wolves around the table could sense.

Stiles bared his neck a little in supplication for Derek in front of them, knowing what it looked like and the effect it had on the alpha. He sent Derek’s aunt a wink. “Yes, sir.”

Derek growled softly against his ear, and his hand tightened a little, causing an excited shiver to race down Stiles’ spine. He and Derek needed to have a talk. The alpha was doing crazy things to Stiles and his magic. Things that Stiles had never felt before with anyone. Stiles knew he was provoking Derek, but he couldn’t help it. His magic craved the alpha and his dominance as much as Stiles’ body did. It was only their first date, but they would need to sit down and have a talk about what this meant.

Derek’s aunt looked positively delighted as she glanced between them. “Oh, you’re a handful, aren’t you.”

Stiles grinned. “I try to be.”

Derek huffed beside him, letting his hand fall from Stiles’ neck to wrap his arm back around Stiles’ waist. Stiles loved the weight of Derek’s arm around him. “Please don’t encourage him.”

“Oh, come on, Derek, we’re just trying to get to know your new beau. Can you blame us for being curious? You’ve never been so quick to claim anyone, not to mention someone so fun,” a well-dressed man sitting beside Derek’s aunt with his arm over the back of her chair spoke up. His eyes lingered on Stiles’ collar, which was more open now, revealing the bite mark beneath. Stiles didn’t do anything to try and cover it back up.

“They think I’m fun,” Stiles stage whispered, turning in the arm Derek had wrapped around his waist and leaning close until his whole front was molded to Derek’s side. “I’m totally in, dude.”

Derek gave his waist a little squeeze, bringing their bodies even tighter together. “Don’t call me dude.”

“I could call you daddy instead,” Stiles murmured, lips tilted up in a smirk against Derek’s ear.

A man further down the table choked on his food, someone else knocked over a glass of wine, Derek’s aunt gave a startled laugh, while his ex Jennifer looked like she’d sucked on a lemon. Stiles glanced at Talia, who looked speechless, which was probably a rare thing for her, but Derek’s father had a large hand covering his face as his shoulders shook, and he tried to control his laughter.

Derek’s eyes were hot and sharp with a nonverbal warning when they cut to him, and Stiles felt himself shiver in a way he knew Derek could feel as well, considering Stiles was pressed right up against him. The muscle in Derek’s jaw flexed as he put his free hand over Stiles' mouth.

It was probably for the best.

For the writer ask: https://at.tumblr.com/nrnyx/700645268338753536/b0dlneqsgo5i