#time to throw myself into escapism ig

[thesapphicsoldier]

Genuinely fearing for my future as an American rn… but yay it’s stranger things day

[usagii-bun]

𝐝𝐫.𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 ‧₊˚ part 2 | fluff

╰┈➤ fem reader. reader is alhaitham’s patient (this may be a bit self indulgent hehe). mild flirting. fluff. attempt at comedy, just a drabble ig, i love alhaitham fr— WAH a part 2 ?? masterlist

part 1 | part 2

Unknown Number: Hi. This is Dr. Alhaitham. I received your results. Are you available to come in tomorrow?

Your heart skips a full beat.

Wait. Wait.

You reread the message about eight times, thumb trembling over the screen.

Dr. Alhaitham. Dr. ALHAITHAM.

You never gave him your number. Not directly. The clinic must’ve had it on file from your intake paperwork. Still—why did he text? Shouldn’t it have been the nurse? Or the front desk?

Your brain spins in three different directions while your thumbs hesitate, hovering mid-air. What tone do you even take with a man who has seen your bloodwork and your undereye bags?

You: Hi… yes, I’m free. Is everything okay?

You don’t expect a reply right away, but the bubbles pop up almost instantly—like he was waiting. Watching the clock.

Dr. Alhaitham: I’d rather explain in person. It’s nothing urgent. I just… want to speak to you myself. Tomorrow at 10?

You stare. Blink. Re-read. “I just… want to speak to you myself.”

Butterflies launch a full-scale riot in your stomach. Your cheeks go hot. You’re squealing internally as your thumbs tap out a response that’s way too calm for how your heart is behaving.

You: Okay. I’ll be there. Also… is this your personal number?

A beat.

The kind of beat where you spiral. Where you consider throwing your phone across the room, just to escape the weight of your own message.

Your face is burning. Why did you ask that? Why did he use it?

The silence stretches until it starts to ache. And then—ping.

Dr. Alhaitham: Yes.

A full-body meltdown ensues.

You collapse back into the couch like a Victorian woman being told her corset’s been outlawed. He gave you his number. He texted you himself. He wants to talk to you personally.

Tomorrow cannot come fast enough.

The Next Morning…

You show up to the clinic early. Too early. You pretend you’re just organized, but really you’re anxiously clutching your water bottle like it’s a lifeline. You tried to look effortless—pulled-together, but not obvious. Cute, but not trying too hard. Just… normal. Which is laughable, considering the amount of time you spent choosing earrings.

The nurse checks you in with a kind smile. You sit in the waiting room, leg bouncing, rehearsing responses in your head.

Then he appears.

Alhaitham steps out from behind the frosted glass doors. Still in his lab coat, still maddeningly unreadable. But when his eyes find yours—there’s a flicker of something. Recognition. Warmth. Something quieter.

“Come in,” he says, stepping aside.

You could swear—swear—the corner of his mouth twitches, like it’s tempted by a smile.

You follow him in.

The exam room is quiet, neat, humming with soft fluorescent light. You take your seat. He opens your file, but doesn’t look at it. His eyes stay on you.

“I didn’t want to go through the receptionist this time,” he says, voice quiet. “I thought it might make you anxious.”

You blink. The words take a second to land. “Oh. That’s… kind of considerate.”

“Also,” he says, finally glancing down, “your iron levels are low. You’ll need supplements. I’ve written the prescription.”

He slides the slip across the desk like he’s handing you a secret. You take it carefully, like it might crumble.

Silence.

The kind that sits heavy. The kind that means something.

He closes the folder, slow and deliberate. Leans forward just slightly, elbows braced on the desk, fingers laced.

“You didn’t tell me you’d been feeling this way for a while.”

You look away, shoulders curling in slightly. “I didn’t want to be dramatic.”

“You said you were a Victorian woman,” he deadpans.

You smile despite yourself, soft and a little sheepish. “Okay, but that’s just my personality.”

He watches you. Sharp eyes, steady and assessing—but not unkind.

Then, gently: “I don’t think you’re dramatic.”

You suck in a breath, caught off guard.

“I think you’re… overwhelmed. Tired. Maybe not used to being taken seriously.”

Your throat tightens. You bite the inside of your cheek. Something inside you shifts.

“I just treat patients,” he says. “But… I remembered you. More than I expected.”

Your heart slams once, hard. “…Why?” you whisper.

He shrugs, gaze not quite meeting yours. “You made an impression.”

Your grip tightens on the paper in your lap.

And then—his voice drops lower: “If you feel dizzy again… or if anything gets worse—don’t wait. Just message me. Directly.”

You nod, silent.

And as you leave—hand curling around the doorknob, heart thudding in your chest like it’s trying to break free—his hand comes to rest gently on the small of your back.

Warm. Steady. Certain.

You freeze. Just for a breath. His palm lingers there like it belongs, grounding you in the quiet between heartbeats. You swear you feel the heat of it radiating through the fabric of your blouse, straight into your spine.

You try not to melt. Try not to show how much that simple touch undoes you.

Then, just as your breath begins to hitch, he leans in slightly. Not too close. Just enough that his voice slides in low, just above a whisper.

“Go home safely.”

His hand slips away—slowly, deliberately. The loss of contact is almost startling.

You turn, instinctive, eyes finding his.

And he’s already looking at you.

Not blankly. Not politely. No, his gaze is sharp and unreadable, steady and direct. There’s something in it—something knowing—that makes your breath catch and your fingers tighten around the cold metal of the doorknob.

You swallow hard.

You manage to nod. Maybe say “good bye.” You’re not sure. Your brain’s short-circuiting.

You take one step out.

Two.

You don’t even make it to the end of the hallway before your knees buckle slightly. Not enough to fall. Just enough to feel the ghost of his hand still lingering on your back.

11:41 p.m.

Your room is dim, bathed in the glow of your phone screen. You’re curled up in bed, overthinking the day in painful HD. You keep replaying every word. Every glance. Every almost-smile.

You haven’t messaged him. Even though he told you to.

You want to. But courage, it turns out, is fictional after 10 p.m.

Then—your phone lights up.

Dr. Alhaitham: Are you awake?

You sit up so fast you almost concuss yourself on the headboard. Your heart stumbles. Hands fumble.

You: yes?

A pause.

Dr. Alhaitham: Sorry if this is strange. I just remembered something you said the other day.

Your pulse is in your ears. You clutch your phone like it might float away.

You: Which thing? (The Victorian woman part?)

A longer pause. Bubbles come and go.

Dr. Alhaitham: No. The part about collapsing into someone’s arms. You joked. But I keep thinking about it. Wondering if someone’s ever really done that for you.

The air leaves your lungs.

The world stills.

This isn’t a joke anymore.

You: No one ever has. Why?

A minute passes.

Then:

Dr. Alhaitham: Because I think you deserve to be caught. Even when you’re not falling.

You sit frozen in your bed, the blanket bunched around your waist, the silence loud in your ears. His words wrap around you like warmth. Like something you didn’t know you needed.

Then, another message:

Dr. Alhaitham: Sorry. That was unprofessional. Good night.

But you can’t stop staring at the one before it.

“Because I think you deserve to be caught.”

The School Auditorium – 10:07 AM

The lights are too bright. The hum of the overhead fluorescents buzzes against the high ceiling, competing with the chorus of second-graders who are very much not using their indoor voices. You’re wrangling your chaos crew down the aisle—two are arguing about who’s taller, one’s asking if astronauts eat soup, and another is trying to lick the back of their own nametag.

You’re functioning on three hours of sleep, a half-drunk coffee that went cold in your cup holder, and the sheer force of whatever maternal instinct allows a person to stop a glitter spill midair.

You don’t notice the man walking onto the stage at first. Not until the noise cuts.

The chatter dies so suddenly it’s eerie—twenty-five small heads pivoting in unison toward the front like a hive mind has seized them.

You look up.

And your brain short-circuits.

There, standing at the center of the stage, is a man. Clipboard in one hand. Other tucked neatly into the pocket of a lab coat. He’s tall—really tall—built like someone who definitely doesn’t trip over his own feet, and carrying himself with the kind of effortless confidence that makes you feel like you’ve shown up underdressed to your own job.

He’s calm. Polished. Crisp lines and clean edges. A quiet authority that makes even the most fidgety of your kids fall still.

Alhaitham.

Dr. Alhaitham.

Your doctor.

Your heart leaps to your throat and lodges there.

He scans the room slowly, methodically. Dispassionate and professional—until his eyes land on you.

And pause.

Just for a second.

But it’s enough. Your breath catches. Your stomach does a little somersault, unprompted.

You are suddenly painfully aware of the state you’re in: oversized cardigan, mystery glitter on your left sleeve, your hair pinned back with a pencil because someone borrowed your last claw clip. There’s a child gripping your leg like it’s the mast of a sinking ship.

He starts to speak—something about germs and handwashing and healthy habits—but you don’t really hear it. The children do. They’re captivated. Spellbound.

You’re just trying to remember how to breathe.

The talk ends after what feels like a hundred years but also three minutes. You start herding your class toward the exit, one hand on a shoulder, another plucking a crayon from someone’s mouth.

And then your phone buzzes.

You glance down.

Dr. Alhaitham : You didn’t tell me you were a teacher.

You stop mid-step. The world tilts slightly.

You read it again.

You: You didn’t tell me you do school tours.

The reply comes so fast you know he had the message half-written already.

Dr.Alhaitham : I don’t. I only agreed because the principal is a patient. Didn’t expect to see you. (Or twenty-five second graders clinging to your legs.)

A breath escapes you—half laugh, half disbelief. Your heart’s still racing, but it’s a little lighter now. Warmer.

You: Yeah well… you might have cracked the case. That’s why I was always sick. Kid germs are no joke.

You watch the typing bubble appear. Disappear. Appear again.

You can feel the deliberation behind it. He’s thinking. Rethinking. Overthinking. You know the feeling too well.

Then finally—

Dr. Alhaitham : I get it now. All the coughs. The dizziness. The stress. You were holding together an entire classroom by sheer willpower.

You stare at your screen, throat tightening.

Something about the way he says it. The way he sees it.

Then another ping.

Dr. Alhaitham : You’re… kind of incredible, you know. Even with stickers on your pants.

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves it. A sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a scream.

Because you look down—and yep. There they are.

Two sparkly dinosaur stickers on your thigh.

And suddenly, you don’t feel quite so exhausted anymore.

—usagii’s note

I wish alhaitham was real :(

[kurishiri]

spoilers for alfons route under the cut

thank you for the ask, anon!

Anonymous said:

Hiii, i wanted ask something regarding the ask about Alfons being "kissed" by others in the epilogue. When i first read it, it seemed to me like he was trying to make Kate feel better in his own way by spouting some lie like this to me? And doesn't him continuing his nightly escapades mean showing people who need them illusions instead of being sexual with them? I can't say that i'm an expert on him but characters like alfons usually become pretty jealous and possessive after they come to accept the love they starved for( there was an event where him kate and roger went to drinking and he shows this side of his openly i think) and to me Alfons doesn't seem like he would hold a double standard for his own "entertainment". Now i'm not saying it wouldn't happen but even if it did, i think it's in the instance where his former "playmates" throw themselves at him before he has a chance to react. Or i'm totally deluding myself lol but that was what came to my mind and i just wanted to share it.

One thing about Alfons is he's not gonna speak directly and twist words until they have the meaning he wants to deliver so i try reading into it rather than accept his words at face value. Sorry this got so long!

hii anon! first of all, sorry for the late reply!

first things first, i want to clarify that (according to al) it wasn’t that he was kissed by others, but rather he himself initiated the kiss. that may change the context then /nm that said, you’re right, he could be lying. he’s been suspected of lying multiple times — we really don’t know and it would be up to your interpretation. al promised not to have sex with others, yes, but well, kissing is sort of a separate thing from sex. the act of kissing (or sex) in and of itself was like a type of escape that al could give his “friends” anyway. it wasn’t an act of emotional intimacy, it was a means to provide a physical pleasure. he could give a kiss to all the women in the world, but the only one who he could give a “true love’s kiss” to is kate. it definitely does feel a bit more wishy washy in his case, haha. but he could be giving illusions, or he could be with his “friends” — they seem to fall under the same category.

that said, yeah, i do think he does get jealous pretty easily. and i also think it’s not necessarily out of his character to purposely try and make kate jealous as a way to make her keep thinking about him. i think it’s interesting to think abt al and double standards if i’m understanding right too — in fact, i think “double standards”…or maybe hypocrisy? english is hard lmao but anyway. i think it’s actually a sort of flaw of his in a way. for example, he wanted kate to keep thinking abt him and so he got really close to her, but when she actually did get close to him like he wanted her to, he pushes her away. or even how he “hated on roger” (which we all know that’s half bogus) because roger hid things from kate — as if he hadn’t done the same low key bfhkshfhsgds elbie sort of words this clearly in the past records featuring him and al, but perhaps bc elbie phrases this feature of al’s as though it’s an endearing feature of his (which ig it can be, yk, i think everything is up to interpretation. it’s similar to how jude gets easily irritated but it can be seen as endearing too bc “aww hes such a tsundere” mindset), we as readers may also think the same.

and fs! al’s words definitely are not and should not be meant to be taken at face value. its for this reason i do recommend his side stories; his thoughts are honest. and i mean, just look at alfons and roger. for all the hating alfons does on roger he went as far as to give an illusion to roger to make him forget abt al when he disappeared to confront the purification club. and as we know, he gave an illusion so that no one would have to be in pain or grieve for him when he died. to him, it was an act of kindness — one that he had given to roger as well. if he really hated roger, would he have gone so far? yes, al doesn’t think 100% positively of roger, but i don’t think he could ever dislike him fully either, especially when he can’t help but associate a couple positive memories with him.

[agathawellbelov3d]

Part seven of that twt fic I was doing.

Forgot to post this cause I mainly post on IG (cringe, I know). There are also probably typos in this, but idc bcuz this is for fun. Haven’t written a non-essay in five years.

Anyways this is Simon’s POV. Background info is they’re in college in this one. I ain’t writing teenagers. Not formatting this shit either.

He’s sitting at the desk on his side of the room, studying. Which isn’t a big deal. It’s a normal thing to do. People study in their own dorms all the time.

But god, why does he have to look like that. As though he’s posing for a magazine photoshoot.

I’d be lying if I said he wasn't distracting. I’ve been trying to focus, but I’ve been rereading the same paragraph in my textbook for the past ten minutes, and it’s starting to just look like gibberish.

I can’t even blame myself. He's wearing a turtleneck, because of course he would. Baz-fucking-Pitch in his tight black turtleneck, designer jeans, and boots that he stomps around campus in like he’s trying to punish the floor. He dresses like some uptight rich prat and pulls it off flawlessly.

He’s just studying, but he ties his hair up, and a little strand falls in front of his face, because of course it would.

He has this little crease in his brow when he concentrates, like he’s contemplating the meaning of life instead of solving math problems. His nose twitches when he reads, and his glasses slide forward stop at that curved ridge of his nose, right where I broke it two years ago.

He leans down to pick up one of his textbooks, and I swear his forearm flexes beneath the tight fabric of his shirt. Which is fine.

Another strand of hair escapes his ponytail.

I think I hate him even more.

I hate the way his pin straight hair frames his face, and the way he sighs when he’s exasperated, and the way he adjusts his reading glasses up when they fall they fall crooked.

I hate how when he stands, he leans on his left side, popping his hip out just a little. But not too much, because god forbid he isn’t always at least three inches above me.

It must be nice, having that upper hand. It would be a lot nicer if he was three inches below me. I could pin him to the ground… or something.

I need to fucking focus.

He leans down to pick up another textbook from his book bag, and I find myself leaning forward on my desk like an actual psycho.

I have to leave the room. I don’t even have a reason, I just snatch my phone off my bed and flee the room like my ass is on fire. I feel like my fucking body is on fire, honestly. It’s like divine retribution for our years of fighting and banter.

I shut the door behind me and sigh. Dear god, I need some privacy.

“Your face is bright red,” Shep says from the couch in the shared common area. He’s grinning like he knows something I don’t, which is never a good thing.

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“It is not.”

“You literally look like a tomato, dude.”

“It’s nothing,” I say, rubbing my face in frustration . “I’m studying. You know I hate math.”

Shep just looks up at me, eyebrow raised quizzically. He doesn’t believe me, does he?

“Oh, come here Simon.” He pats the couch, motioning for me to sit next to him. “I’m just messing with you. No harm.”

“You’re impossible,” I mutter.

“I’m observant,” he corrects, “which you should thank me for, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For being right about your feelings, obviously,” he grins.

“I hate you!” I yell, throwing a pillow at his face. But we both know I’m not even mad. He busts out laughing, and for a moment I forget my embarrassment.

[morefromthisworld]

"nightmare" vergil

if you saw my other post you know about "nightmare vergil", or the part of him that has maybe 0.000002% coherency

i showed my brother this drawing and he came up with the cute idea that vergil is dead asleep here, but that is actually not the case (although now i totally headcanon the most common times for nightmare to show up is when hes completely konked out. sleepwalking type deal 👀).

as far as im aware from game lore (IM PLAYING IT MYSELF AND I ONLY STARTED RECENTLY AND ITS HARD SO I HAVENT EVEN BEATEN 1 SO I COULD BE WRONG BUT), the only one of the original "nightmares" (griffon, shadow, and nightmare (also phantom? what?)) that actually interact with vergil directly is nightmare, who plays a part in the transformation process into nelo angelo (the other two are literally just trauma projections by dmc5? even phantom is in visions of v, vergil just like,,, rejects him or smthn ig? although its very likely they were all canonically at least indirectly linked to nelo angelo as a power source).

anyway, this unique interaction definitely changed them both permanently. nightmare is forever more powerful than it was, and now vergil has part of himself nearly locked away, trapped inside a part of nightmare that never let go, no matter how seperated they become. this part of him never escaped mundus. never broke free from being nelo angelo. never stopped feeling anything but insurmountable agony.

most of the time its "asleep". it cant survive in any other state, being driven to wild destruction by the illusion of pain made somewhat real through demonic means. theres no cognitive thought processes delegated to this "consciousness", only making itself known when vergils active cognition begins to fail, and he slips into a state where this destructive being can easily fill in the empty space. these are times like when vergil is actually asleep (nightmares of nightmare 🥺), or overworking himself, or the occasional day where despite his efforts, he just cant keep a grip on the physical world, and too easily slips into the background of his own mind, leaving it open to be overrun.

now again, i cannot stress enough how little nightmare thinks, but hes not completely braindead. he simply has the inability to tell current reality from his time spent stuck becoming and as nelo angelo. essentially, the only thought he does have, is thinking hes trapped, stuck in a neverending battle with pure agony. thats why hes so destructive; in his mind is practically nothing but dark sludge, the memory of desperately trying to force through it, the feeling of being unable to breathe, and trying anyway, only to have his lungs fill with that same dark, demonic sludge, burning him, changing him. to cough it out, or try to, only to gasp up even more into his lungs, only filling them more with excruciating pain.

hes stuck, in a desperate fight that ended ages ago, but never stopped. all he can do is summon up every ounce of strength he has, and throw it in whichever direction will give first, until he wears himself out, and falls back asleep.

[the-mandawhor1an]

The ally

Chapter 1 – Guided by the stars, connected by the force

Masterlist

⇐ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⇒

Pairing: Din Djarin x original female character

Chapter summary: Gideon is defeated and the child is safe. Maia now has to face the Mandalorian, but rather than appearing as a supporter, she needs his help. 

Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! Canon-typical violence, description of injury, lots of blood, a sprinkle of tension, near death experience  

Words: 4k

A/N: And so it begins. I’m leaning a bit into the awkwardness of it all. I’m trying to make the injury/blood loss as realistic as I can (without ever having experienced something myself) I’m adding translations to the Mando’a parts after the chapter. For now it’s just cursing. 

Out on the lava fields, Gideon’s TIE fighter laid in pieces, strewn about on the dark volcanic rock. The Mandalorian had just landed beside his allies. They had won. Maia, however, did not feel like celebrating. Frankly, she felt the urge to throw up. It had definitely played out a lot differently in her head, interfering and helping the man in shiny armor escape from the Imperials. 

Her first entrance, while the Mandalorian hadn’t seen it, was impressive. She had shouted down to Gideon from a rooftop, telling him to leave the bounty hunter and the child alone. She had felt so powerful when she fought the Stormtroopers, side by side with the man she had decided to help. Well, she might have gotten distracted by the sight of the Mandalorian taking on two Troopers at the same time. It did something to her. 

The explosion of the e-Blaster had separated them. While the Mandalorian and his companions had fled through the sewer systems, Maia had followed them as best as she could overground. 

Then, out on the lava fields, her plan had been to join them again, practically ambushing the ambush that waited for the child and its protectors to come out of the tunnel. And that’s where it went south. 

No, the Imperials didn’t find her. In fact, they were distracted themselves, focusing on the IG-Unit that greeted them instead of the ones they were looking for. Before anyone could run for cover, the Droid detonated, sending bits of itself flying through the air and tearing pieces off of the unsuspecting troopers. 

And that’s precisely when Maia missed the opportunity to duck herself and in quick succession was hit with not one, but two pieces of metal. The first grazed her head and split open the skin close to her hairline, the other pierced her groin on the left side. The pain was manageable due to the concussion she suffered simultaneously. But now her head was spinning, she was most likely critically injured and they were out in no mans land. 

Carefully she approached the two humans and the bounty hunter, pressing der left hand on the wound on her abdomen. The metal stuck out between her index and middle finger, fixing it in place as best as she could. Her cloak fell just over her left side, hiding the metal piece and the blood that’s soaking her tunic slowly. 

She had issues walking straight and therefore paid little attention to what was being said by the people she approached. But then, as she came closer, she picked up bits of their conversation. »… who cares who she is, she helped us kick their asses!« the dark-skinned male shrugged. Then, the woman that accompanied him, nodded in Maia’s direction. She has been detected. »Why don’t you ask her yourself?« The reflective helmet turned before his shoulders followed. The black t-visor fixated on the pathetic brunette figure that approached them. She must’ve looked a mess. 

»Who are you?« the modulated voice asked her. For a second she was busy trying to understand why there was a sudden sharp sting in her nape. Underneath that helmet, two eyes scanned over her, intensely, and she felt it. That was unusual and almost made Maia forget that he had asked her something. At least she could blame her head injury. »I’m … an ally. Kept the Imps outside busy while you escaped through the sewer system.« »Why are you helping us?« 

Shit. What was she supposed to say? The truth? Stars, no. Telling him she had camped out here, finally meeting him after looking for ten years? Absolutely not. A small green head poked out from the bag that hung at his hip. Large, dark brown eyes looked up to her. That could work. »It’s the child,« she motioned to the small green thing, making Mando’s shoulders tense up. »It’s probably force sensitive as I am, that’s why I came for aid. I didn’t want the Imperials to get their hands on it. That’s all.« She touched her forehead with her left hand, right into the slow stream of blood that ran across her temple. Something reflected in his chest plate, possibly the hilt of one of her lightsabers. She was too exhausted to get anxious about it. 

»Are you a Jedi?« was all he asked. The tension in his shoulders remained, but his voice sounded as neutral as before. »I don’t want to take it from you,« she let him know in hopes he’d relax a bit. The sting in her neck slowly subsided, at least. »I am somewhat of a Jedi, more than you are, that’s for sure. We don’t have the time for me to explain it to you, the Imperials are still out here. Besides…« She looked at her left hand, bloodied and she knew her right hand at this point probably stuck to her blood-drenched tunic. »I’m injured and need a medic, or bacta.« »The city isn’t far,« the other woman interrupted. »If she can walk, that is.« 

Maia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly the dull pain in her side worsened. Combined with her head spinning it was a miracle that she could stand still and keep a conversation. »Barely. I think I have a concussion, standing upright is hard enough.« The Mandalorian averted his gaze to look at the child, then, looked at Maia once more, to finally turn to the man in his company. »Karga, do you have medical supplies in your hideout?« Karga. Maia tried her best to remember the name, just in case. Karga shook his head »There should be, but who knows how the bar looks like, now. Guess med-supplies are the first thing you raid if a city is in ruins. Doubt she’ll make it there before she faints anyway. She’s pale as ash.« 

Again, the Mandalorian focused his gaze upon Maia, making her head practically throb with pain. »Ever flown with a jetpack?« he asked her. What? She blinked twice before shaking her head, regretting it immediately as it worsened her nausea. »Can’t say I have.« She definitely messed up her first impression big time. Hi, I’m Maia, I came to rescue you, failed miserably, now save me!

A sigh rumbled through the armor, as he pulled the child out of the bag. »Listen, I will only say this once. Hold onto the child, I will fly us over to the city. Don’t try anything, Jedi.« his modulated voice practically dripped with venom as he spit out the word to address her. Like she had a choice. She nodded and removed the hand from her wound to hold the child in both hands. The little green thing eyed her with its large, dark brown eyes. Neither did it seem scared or bothered by her bloodied hands, rather it looked curious about her. Maybe it could feel that they had something in common. Maybe it was the natural curiosity all children had. 

As gentle as he could, Mando picked her up and flew her over to the city. The metal shrapnel dug deeper into her flesh as she got pressed into the cold beskar, which in turn coaxed a grunt out of her. He must’ve seen the wound, making him put her down even gentler after landing. He took the child off of her hands and ordered the brunette to sit down on a bench. Slowly and under a lot of pain she shuffled to said bench, cursing under her breath. Her vision was slowly blurring and her head felt heavy. With her head rested against the wall behind her, she watched as the man in the metal armor roamed around the ruins that surrounded the immediate area. A constant mumble escaped the helmet, although Maia was too far to make out what he was saying. When he came back, he shook his head. »Nothing. We have to get that metal out of you,« he urged. Both knew that this would not help in the long run when no medical supplies were at their disposal. »I’ll bleed out,« she retorted. 

»You’ll die of sepsis if we don’t remove it. Osik,« he sighed. Either Maia’s decline was more rapid than she had thought, or he sounded genuinely distressed by the outlook of her passing. The child cooed from inside his carrier bag, again curiously eyeing the newly made friend. As if the Mandalorian had an idea, he turned his helmet toward the child. »Maybe it can save you.« 

Wait. He knew that force sensitive people could heal? Has the child done it before? 

»We’ll need shelter if we want to try it. How far is your ship?« »Not far. Just behind these buildings. Think you can make it there?« With another grunt that kind of turned into a pained moan, she rose from her resting spot and instantly pressed her hand back on the wound that was still losing blood. »I have to try.« 

The Razor Crest wasn’t far by any means, but for someone that was on the verge of passing out and could not feel one of her legs any more it took a while to get there. The incline on the ramp to get inside the ship was excruciating, forcing her to actually lift her feet instead of dragging them along the dark volcanic sand. Rather ungracefully she plopped down on the cold metal floor, another pained sound escaped her lungs. Her breathing had become labored and her vision was hazy. 

»Careful,« her companion softly said and knelt down beside her. Again, there was this warmth in his voice, and Maia wasn’t sure she was imagining it. With the child now on the floor next to her, the Mandalorian faced the woman first, then his foundling. »I’ll take out the metal, and then you do your magic thing, okay Kid?« And while the little green thing seemed to understand, its ears slowly sank. »Mando, I think it’s too weak, even with my support.« She leaned back all the way until her back and head were against the inner hull. Again, Mando cursed under his breath »Haar'chak.« Or at least Maia thought of it as a curse. Why was he so invested in saving her? It must’ve had to do with her being a Jedi. »There is one thing we can try. But you’ll have to trust me, which I doubt.« The helmet dipped ever so slightly to one side. She took that as him being curious to hear her idea. »I can… take some of your life force and transfer it. Just enough so I don’t die. I know this is a lot to ask. You owe me nothing. It’s all I can think of now…« A cough violently shook her and made her see stars from the pain for a moment. His arms extended just for a second, unsure what to do with her, it seemed. »Fark…« she hissed as tears welled up in her eyes. »Or you leave me here.« her voice was hoarse from the cough and barely louder than a whisper. 

»I don’t trust you,« he repeated, but sat down in front of her properly. »Just tell me what to do.« »You take the metal out, and then just press your hands onto the wound. The rest is my job if I don’t pass out. You should maybe take the gloves off.« He halted for a second but then the two toned gloves came of, revealing suspiciously human looking hands. »On the count of three,« he said as he held onto the piece of metal, sending another sharp pain through Maia’s spine. But instead of pulling on three, he pulled right as he said two and afterwards a large, indescribably warm hand pressed onto the now gushing wound. Maias smaller, equally bloody hands rested atop of his and she tried to blend out all the pain and discomfort she felt to heal her wound. »I hope this works,« he softly said, maybe more to himself, but due to the close proximity she could hear it just fine. »If it doesn’t, I don’t want to die a stranger. I’m Maia.« 

And not for the first time Maia experienced a way stronger connection to the stranger in front of her than she ever had with anyone else. A comforting warmth emitted from the palm of his hand, seeping into her skin. Maybe he felt it too, the weird tingling in every cell that was in contact with his skin. She focused on her wound, taking some of his life force to heal herself. With every passing moment of them being connected, images formed in her mind. Voices and noises echoed in her head. 

Darkness, the sounds of war. Approaching steps of droids. Fear. Helplessness. A battle droid coming into view. Blaster fire. A Mandalorian reaching out their hand. A child gets saved. 

Raymond’s voice. »My story might end here, but yours won’t. There is so much left for you to discover in this galaxy. Who you are, and who he is. I love you so much. Find him.« A blaster shot. Rage. 

»You make me consider bending rules I never thought about breaking before. Maybe we should go our separate ways.« Dread. »I don’t want to be responsible for you losing your ways.« Pain. A heavy heart and a farewell. 

The last thing she saw was obscured, as if she watched it through a veil. A man and a woman sharing a kiss. And yet the image seemed almost familiar. Her parents, perhaps? 

The image faded before she could make out any features. A loud metal clunk was the last thing she heard before she passed out. 

Some time later, unsure of how much had actually passed, she awoke, slowly raising her head and trying to blink away the blurriness in her vision. The child was fussing somewhere in the cargo bay. Slowly her eyes adapted to the bright light inside. Had it been this blinding before she passed out? 

Trying to locate the child, she turned her head only to bump into cold metal. She froze. The man sitting opposite her had also passed out and due to him pressing his hands on her, had slouched over and fallen to the front. Halfway onto her. His helmet now rested on her shoulder, tipped to the front to a dangerous degree. Right now she was stuck in between a large body clad in metal and the inner hull of the ship – stuck between a rock and a hard place, so to say. 

Large eyes looked at her from across the floor. The child needed her help, judging by its pointing to get into the small bay that resembled a makeshift bed. »Mando?« she gently asked, to no avail. She turned her head ever so slightly to listen for a reaction, getting a glance onto his neck in the process. All she could make out was the same tan skin she had seen on his hands and dark hair. Dark brown or maybe even black, she couldn’t tell while it was still halfway underneath the helmet. So maybe he was a human. The way he was snoring Mando was out cold and his position was probably not doing him any favors. Slouched against her with the chin almost tucked into his chest. And all that currently kept his helmet from falling was the wall behind Maia. »Kriff,« she huffed. She needed to get out of this compromising position. Not only did she want to help the child, involuntarily cuddling with a total stranger was weird to say the least. There was only one way to get out of this without him losing the helmet. Some things she had heard about the Mandalorians, and they were really nasty about taking the helmets off. 

Her hands slowly wandered along the hull behind her so she could push herself forward. There was no other way than to sit on his lap for a second, using her body to push him upright. With one hand she held onto the helmet as to not lose it in her effort. Just a split second she thought about touching the skin that momentarily laid bare, the curiosity in her almost too much to resist. His hands had been so warm and awfully gentle and she wondered if his neck could be any warmer. But she resisted. 

Sitting on his lap, she prayed to the universe for him to not wake up right about now. Her cheeks were flushed as she was chest to chest with the man, helmet practically in her hand and him completely powerless. She could have risked a peek. But she didn’t. 

The child disrupted her silent moment of contemplation with a giggle. »Don’t you dare,« she said to said little gremlin, although she obviously didn’t mean any harm in it. With the helmet properly back on Mando’s head, she gently lowered his torso to the back, making him lie down. And she got up. 

How long would it take him to wake up? She bit her lip, averting her gaze to get the child into his little cot. There it cuddled up and seemed to fall asleep instantly. »Well… what now?« she mumbled to herself. The ship was closed and judging by the silence, no one had come for them yet. Maia looked around. The sight of a sink greeted her. The blood on her tunic hadn’t completely dried yet, so maybe she could wash it before it was ruined.

She took off the heavy fabric that made up her cape before removing the stained top. Cold water ran over her hands and the once gray fabric, washing away as much of her as she could manage without any soap. Exhaustion still lingered in her body, she needed some rest. When her newly formed scar touched the cold metal sink, she whimpered and flexed away from it. When the water ran clear, she wrung out the shirt as best she could before putting it back on.

Mando grunted on the metal floor behind her, slowly coming to. Disoriented, he raised the helmet and cursed »Dank Farrik, what the –« As soon as he didn’t see the woman leaned against the hull, he bolted upright and looked around, only to find her sitting next to the cot, where the child was peacefully sleeping beside her. »What happened? How long was I out?« he asked and slowly rose to his feet. His voice was raspy and significantly deeper now. Judging by the noises he made while getting up, his back ached and maybe one or two joints as well. »We passed out. I don’t know for how long. Been 15 minutes since I woke up, I guess.« 

Right as he stood, Mando made the observation that his position had been changed. He turned to the wall where Maia had originally sat, then back to her, then looking at the ground where he had just gotten up from. His shoulders tensed instinctively as he must’ve remembered something about her touching him. »Have you touched my helmet?« 

Before she could think about an answer, he drew closer, forcing her to rise to her feet to retreat as to keep distance between them. With her hands raised at mid-torso height, she tried her best to give off no threatening energy. 

Oh, he was mad that she touched the helmet. »I did but PLEASE–« she cut off as he stepped closer. Obviously this instilled fear in her, which might have given off the wrong impression to him in this moment. »please, don’t come closer.« She looked straight into the black visor and tried to imagine eyes hidden beneath. His breath hitched ever so slightly, but he stopped and stayed where he was. »It was about to fall off of your head, so yes, I touched it.« »Have you seen my face?« »No.« »Can I trust you?« As in slow-motion her hands slowly lowered and her brows furrowed. Her head tilted ever so slightly to one side as she replied. »That’s for you to decide… You saved my life. To me this means something.« He sighed, but neither did he move to give her more space nor did he come closer, he just stood there, hands now on his hips.

»You will tell me who you are, now,« he almost growled. »You say you’re not a Jedi but you can sense the child, you can heal wounds without any meds. Sounds pretty Jedi to me.« He made another step closer, and Maia’s hand was instantly up again, this time higher, threatening. »Stay where you are.« Her voice was firm, although it was ever so slightly raspy. There was a lot of tension in both of them. 

Mando didn’t trust her, and Maia felt insanely unsafe. It wasn’t his presence per se, it was the mistrust he had that made him agitated for no reason. She wasn’t a threat to him unless he threatened her first. 

»I am force-sensitive. That doesn’t automatically make me a Jedi; just as much as wearing armor doesn’t make you a Mandalorian. You have your rules, the Jedi have theirs. The order fell when I was a child and I don’t live by their rules.« He remained unchanged in his position, so she kept going. »I don’t know why you’re looking for a Jedi. If I had to guess it’s because of the child. It needs a master.« »That’s right. He needs to be with his people, I thought you are one.« »I’m not.« His shoulders sank and he sighed in defeat. »Do you know where I can find a Jedi that can take care of the kid? It can’t stay with me.«  And again, his voice got softer. Maybe this was the exhaustion, or the disappointment that settled in. 

At least now Maia knew why he saved her in the first place. He thought she was valuable to his mission. 

»I don’t. I’m not sure Jedi would be accepting of me not living by their codex.« »You make it sound like they are cruel people.« »They’re not, I simply disagree with their principles. Not being allowed to own or love because the fear of losing might turn one to the dark side.« Stars, she sounded absolutely unbearable, but she continued. »I have wronged a lot of people in my life. The fact I’m even still alive is all thanks to my fa–« she bit her lip. It has been a decade since he passed but Raymond’s death still hurt because she never allowed herself to properly grieve. »Thanks to the sacrifice of someone who loved me. I dont want to believe that love is wrong when it saved my life.« 

This struck a nerve within him, it seemed. His posture gradually softened. »I’m sorry, it sounds like you’ve been through a lot.« Finally, Maia’s hand sank down and she also slowly let the tension in her body fade. »Thanks. I still owe you my life, though. You might not have found the Jedi you’ve been looking for, but I can help you keep the child safe until you do. If you let me.« »Alright.« 

A soft smile crept up to her lips, before Mando turned to close the child’s resting place. »Come with me.« He motioned to follow her up the ladder. She grabbed her cape before following him. He continued. »I will look for other Mandalorians, they can help us find a Jedi. After my last visit to Nevarro they had to leave the planet, that makes things a bit difficult.« He sat down on the pilot seat, whereas Maia sat down behind him on one of the passenger seats. »Do you have any leads?« »I have my contacts.« 

And with that the Razor Crest left Nevarro. 

Translations: 

Osik - shit

Haar'chak - Damn it

[ureverygirltome]

tbh I probably was having a #trauma moment last nite. I think being back in my old city and in places I used to frequent and am familiar with felt really strange. like its all the same but I haven't been there in over a year and several months. I only lived in raleigh for maybe 2-3 years in total but it was home for me once and its weird ig. I considered driving by my old apartment but I didnt have time anyway.

and its just like kind of.. angering I guess how abruptly I had to leave bc I had to escape my ex and had nowhere to go besides moving back in w my family. like I've accepted it now and I live here now and have acclimated but the sudden adjustment and uprooting of my life it was really upsetting to me back in 2023. it was solely necessary bc it was dangerous to live w my abuser and it reached like. a breaking point or point of no return the day I left him for good. he would have seriously injured me or even ended my life like I can't rule that out atp bc his abuse was so bad. he could have ended up killing me on accident or something from suffocating me or pushing me down and being careless with my physical body.

i was lucky i never ended up seriously injured like from the suffocation or the constant pushing and fighting him off i could have hit my head or something. and there were times when he had a knife too! or i felt like i had to get a knife to protect myself once like LOL. it was so fucked. and mentally I was at my breaking point so yeah I had to leave super abruptly and just decide I can never live w him again and involve my family bc they didn't know how bad it was until I left him etc. but that was all against my own wishes and control I guess and that's what was hard for me at the time. having to uproot my life bc of him. having to leave the apartment I lived in for over a year that I put in all the work to find and apply for etc because he wouldn't leave. and ended up leaving anyway bc he got hit by a bus lol.

and moving back home was good for me ultimately bc I needed the stability and a safe place even tho my mental health took a toll but ultimately it was a safer option than living in a domestically violent household lmao. but yeah ig visiting again after having not been back in a year and like 3 months felt jarring. brought up old memories and made me think abt how abruptly I had to leave to escape dv lol. like that's what it was and I hate how my ex has framed the whole situation btwn us... saying it was dramatic to involve our families??? and we should have handled it like adults? like whose fault was that? whose doing? Who trapped who in the apartment and went on an abusive tirade for days yk.

i literally had to escape him bc it was unsafe for me and living w him in general for several yrs was unsafe already but like, it reached a tipping point where he would have seriously injured me or broken me down mentally from all the abusive tirades and imprisonment and verbal abuse. I literally felt like a prisoner in my home towards the end bc he intentionally cut me off from the outside world and any loved ones and would not let me leave. its crazy the cognitive dissonance he probably has towards our whole relationship. how he will never fully grasp how dangerous and abusive and vile he was to me. bc he blames it on a myriad of things like his mental health and immaturity and also blames me as well.

And its whatever bc i don't expect an abuser to actually own up to their shit or take accountability or ever realize the weight of their actions bc most of them are so self involved and entitled... obviously they would not understand their victim's perspective bc they throw aside their empathy and morals to keep abusing. so ofc my ex lacks empathy for me still and still subconsciously blames me and thinks we both hurt each other and had a part in it whatever bs hes said. its why he thinks it's ok to reach out to me come to my house try to get my attention online despite me blocking him everywhere etc.

he doesn't think he's a bad person or dangerous to me and thinks it's normal and permissible to try to have some sort of relationship with me, saying he knows me like a close friend or whatever the fuck. its just weird to take that all in and be back in that city and reflect ig. how he isn't even really a person to me but just a concept of a person and a past memory idk if that makes sense. I don't have empathy or sympathy for an abuser tbh. and maybe that makes me sound bad but I don't see any reason he had to continue abusing me for several years... doesn't matter the reasons he comes up with. he didn't have to do any of it and it was a deliberate, repetitive choice to continue taking my agency away and hurting me and treating me like I wasnt a human. in turn he is not a real person to me just like a representation of wrongness I guess. mwah

[luffysprincess]

Genuine question, is Wuwa's story any good? I tried playing it on launch and I only lasted until after we got into the city and the game started throwing all these lingos at us and made us run around the city doing stuff with characters I did not care about yet, so I got bored. Although my biggest gripe was that I played on iOS and they had no controller support, so it felt horrible to control. I end up deleting the game after that and have only pieced together stuff floating around the internet since and I have no idea what to feel.

I've also tried to watch streamers playing the beginning of Rinascita(?) mission but I found myself going "???" on some scenes... Like that church scene where Rover went towards the (supposedly) 'secret' tunnel door thing that led to the confessional. And does that mean the confessional (and the harbor ig) is the only way to enter/exit the city?? And how is everyone in the city so chill with our talking mascot Echo despite the game highlighting in the past how talking Echoes are supposed to be God-tier rare iirc? Once again, I got to the point after Rover rode the boat with Carlotta(?) and didn't feel like continuing, so I stopped watching.

Anyway, I guess the main thing is that I really want to get back into Wuwa cause the characters look so good, but the beginning of the two 'seasons' I've seen so far felt so lacking that I'm worried it'll just go downhill from there... So if you don't mind sharing your thoughts about that, I'd like to seek the opinion of a more seasoned player who has properly gone through the story... Thank you for your time reading this /gen

Hi!! Okay you bring up some good points so I’ll try to address them to the best of my ability!!

You mentioned that on iOS, theres no controller support and I can’t say anything about that issue bc I’ve never played on iOS. I played on pc when it first came out and now on the ps5. So I’m sorry I have nothing to say about that!!

Regarding the story, I actually really enjoy it. There are times where I got confused in the beginning bc like you said they throw a lot of big terms at you but overtime you’ll start to understand it!! I will also admit that the characters you interact with in the main quest of the first season did not pique my interest very much. These two specifically but that is bc I personally found them to be a little bit boring. They are sweethearts!! but I wish there was more to them than just nice girls who are color coded by their elemental power.

However the story picks up and you meet some other very interesting characters that got me hooked bc they were more complex. And very quickly the story gets really good. I don’t wanna spoil anything so I’m trying to be vague about it but it really did outdo my expectations of it.

Within Rinascita, the harbor is the only way to reach the city bc it’s a city that was made in the middle of the ocean. The secret confessional exit in the church is I think just a secret escape way. I say “I think” bc I’m still in the middle of this quest and haven’t explored enough of Rinascita to double check this. I wish I could hop on now but unfortunately the damn PSN is down :(

The reason why everyone is lax with our talking echo is bc word is already out that Rover is incredibly important. I’m not sure how much the rest of the world knows but Rover is essentially very fundamental to Solaris-3. Again I don’t wanna spoil much so it’s vague. Also somethinf to consider is that Rinascita is the land of echoes. They have advanced echoes and know a lot about them so perhaps that’s why.

In general, I’ve not been disappointed by the game story line yet. It’s been really fun and to me the plot has been v interesting. Especially the cut scenes and the fighting that happens towards the end of the quest. Those get me really excited!!

Also you’re so right, the characters look so good!! I wish I hadn’t take a break from the game bc there were a lot of characters that were released when I stopped but I regret not having them now.

Anyways, if you ever try the game out again I would love to know how you feel about it again. And thank you for asking, I hope this was helpful and motivating!!! Keep me updated if you do play wuwa again!!

[clinesrps]

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

as far as activity goes, i’m someone who is able to provide rather consistent replies. unless life throws me a curveball, something happens with my health, or our creative chemistry just isn’t working, i’m never not writing! it’s something i thoroughly enjoy doing (and have been since 2011) and consistently try to push myself in. however, like aforementioned, life is unpredictable, and if i’m not super speedy in my replies, i ask that you give me some grace, respect my boundaries, and trust that i’ll respond to you as soon as i’m able.

on the other side of the coin, if i find that our thread is starting to die, and your replies are becoming less and less consistent, i might ask for some sort of update on your next response. if i feel that i’m waiting around and our server is becoming more of a waste of server space than a story worth investing in, then i’ll politely leave. this also goes hand-in-hand with not being able to get a hold of the other partner without difficulty (long periods of time without any communication, very spotty messages, etc.); i’m someone that uses escapism as a way to cope with external factors, so consistency is highly preferred, and communication is a must.

𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

i’m 25 years old– with this in consideration, i will not be roleplaying with anyone under the age of 21– there are no exceptions to this rule. the types of themes and content that i curate in my writing are things i’m only comfortable talking with someone that i’d be able to get a drink with at the bar. while 21 is the minimum age requirement, i’d prefer someone closer to my age, seeing as it’s easier to build a connection with someone that’s in the same chapter of life as you! (-:

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 while i’m a slow burn girly until the day that i die, we must talk about the elephant in the room if we’re going to be partners: smut.

i’m someone that will occasionally reblog nsfw content if i feel that it pertains to one of my muses or wanted opposites as a means for inspiration. if you feel that this might make you uncomfy, i’d politely recommend unfollowing. with this in mind, while smut is only going to make up a fraction of our roleplay, i’m someone that prefers it be written into the story. tying into that, i’m not someone that engages in gratuitous smut writing or smut-without-plot. no shame in that, just not my cup of tea. thank you for respecting that boundary in advance! ♡ 

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒

themes and depictions that are 100% non-negotiable, off the table, and not up for debate when writing include:

depictions of SA / r*pe content, incest, noncon

excessive depictions of torture

depictions of animal abuse/cruelty

incestuous or sexual activity involving minors or children

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

chemistry is everything for my muses and i; if we’re able to work with you and your muses to create something lovely, challenging, and captivating, then we’re so here for it. if a friendship so happens to bloom on top of that partnership, that’s even better. however, i’m someone that couldn’t bullshit my way out of anything with a gun pressed to my head, so if things just aren’t clicking between us or our muses, i’m not going to force myself into feigning that type of connection. if i express wanting a disconnect, please do not take it personal– i’m just very selective and always have been.

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐂𝐬:

without needing to divulge my own personal reasons, here are a list of fcs i will not be writing against:

taylor swift sabrina carpenter ariana grande emma roberts sydney sweeney the kardashian/jenner family riverdale cast tsitp cast outer banks cast (excluding madison bailey) youtubers/IG models/tiktokers, athletes

(this is always subject to change)

[a-vague-recollection]

Hello there. How's life treating you these days?

I was down a few days ago. The usual I suppose. But this chat I had with a friend two years ago came to mind and I decided to scroll those messages. Both of us, at the time, had a similar kind of hurting or pain. We were scratched by the same thorns, so to say. And despite us being 'just-good-friends' through out school, latched together to lament on this common pain. It certainly helped me. Just ranting stuff on her chat and she'd reply when she found the time to do so. And that's how it was. We did that for a few months. I would be the person to lift her up if she felt down and she'd be the one doing that when I'd feel like throwing myself into water. Don't get me wrong, I've never been suicidal, and I'm grateful for that. Just that sometimes one would want to bury themselves under water. Sometimes you crave for breathlessness because life's hitting you all at once and you feel like you don't have a chance so you kinda wish for it to come for you all together. All at once. So you may rise again and gasp for air. Breathe new again. And be granted a second chance. The whole thing was nice. To vomit feelings in its truest forms because she wouldn't cringe. She wouldn't think I was being emotional or immature. It was nice. I hope she felt that too. But reading those text messages then has not only made me reminisce the friendship I had but also allowed me to see myself in a different light. I was a bit more braver then. At 18, I was a bit more hopeful. I could let my tongue slip and say words of compassion and encouragement without the fear of being judged. I could venture out for long lost friends and start talking to them just because I wanted to talk. The thoughts of whether I'm the one who messages first or am I being a nuisance or do they think I'm kinda stupid or silly to want to build this friendship even though there's no reason for it now. We're no longer in the same class or school. Don't have mutual friends. Didn't really meet anywhere recently. Why is she forging this now? Those thoughts seemed to always escape me. I'm genuinely interested in this person, who cares about the rest anyways? But unfortunately, these thoughts never seem to leave me now. The 'what would they think?' has made me backspace a lot of paragraph messages on how I had a dream of them last night, or I saw this thing on TV and it reminded me of that time, or how I think they're wonderful for this reason, or how I'm just really happy to have had a friend like them, or how I'm randomly reminded of that one time they did this. O r how they weren't supposed to have done that. Anyways, as you can see I'm reminded of people a lot. I bet others are too. And it's sad that they will never know because I got scared. anxious. For no reason at all. So, now I'm kinda making it a point to sent these random reminders I have of these people, if I get bothered for more than 10 minutes. Yeah kinda long but I overthink so yeah. I would love to receive a random paragraph long text from any friend. Whether its about me or their day or anything at all wouldn't matter. The fact that they thought of me would be enough to warm my heart. So why not do the same? As that one Barbie song, "

Sometimes when you need a friend, just need to be a friend. Gotta spin the whole picture around You need to share your light, help someone learn to fly..." So there's that. And oh, about that chat I had with her. We haven't texted since last summer. Life's been good ig. I hope it has been for her as well. Thanks for reading till the end. Share you're thoughts please. I'd love to know. Yours Truly, X

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you and jungkook go on a spontaneous drive.

> fluff / wc: 2.7k

> warnings: sexual innuendo, fake gagging, mentions of throwing up, fish ?

note: i struggle with writer’s block for days then come up with scenes like this i can’t stand myself 😭 like the last part . . . iykyk.

—

jungkook watches the shotgun seat pushed all the way back, where your curled up vessel is lying, wrapped in a fleece blanket. he suggested that the backseat may be more comfortable, but you said that he’d be too far away and he might feel lonely with an empty space beside him.

your nose scrunches at the strong smell of gas, and you can almost taste it on your tongue despite being unconscious. while he waits for his car to reach full tank, he unbuckles his seatbelt to steal a kiss from your lips. there is the faint smell and taste of your watermelon lip balm that lingers in the midst of the gas station. sweet. when you invade his senses. sweet, with a pinch of an emotion he can only name as love.

it is five in the morning, and you stay asleep as the sun slowly, slowly rises in its sweeps of pink and red clouds. it was his idea after all, to drive with no destination in mind at this time of the day. partly because he slept thirteen hours the day prior and he found it impossible to sleep again, mostly because he always wants to go on adventures with you. albeit, you stay asleep for almost the entire time.

when he woke you up an hour ago just to ask ‘want to go on a drive and get lost?’ he fully expected you to glare at him and pass out back to sleep. but instead, you almost crawled your way to the bathroom, washed your face and brushed your teeth, then announced that you were ready to go. he had to drag you back to the bedroom so he could clothe you.

“you weren’t about to get out of the house naked.” he scolded you, sounding annoyed as he slipped on your shorts.

“but i’m not.” you fought back quietly, head hanging low as you tried your best to stay awake.

he gritted his teeth. “your underwear barely covers anything.

“i can be naked if i want to. it’s just the car.”

jungkook sighed, knowing well that you like showing skin, even when nobody is watching. random fact: you sleep topless when you’re in a sour mood. for some scientific reason unknown to him, you do wake up bright and sunny the next morning.

“you never know what the day may bring. most likely, we’ll eat outside.”

“right. okay. because you’ll want to eat me instead.” you giggled incoherently, thoughts fuzzy around the egdes. you wrapped your arms around his neck, peppering the side of his face with kisses.

“fuck- yeah, that too.” he muttered under his breath as he picked you up to bring you to the car, grabbing his wallet and keys on the way out. only then, it registered to you that you left your phone on the bed. but you were too sleepy to alert your boyfriend, so you tightened your thighs around his waist and closed your eyes again.

his tongue unconsciously plays with his lip ring, zoning out as he thinks about you. god forbid, he truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve you in his life. just how much do you love him for you to agree to this no matter how tired and sleepy you are?

you might constantly bicker, but it’s always full of love and playfulness. no matter how ridiculous you think of each other because of certain quirks or interests, you trust him and he trusts you. cute, he whispers to himself before giving you one last tender kiss on the temple.

he rolls up the window and puts his seatbelt back on, grooving to the soft music from the speakers as he drives further away from his house to escape with his refuge.

—

you wake up three hours later, unmoving from your position. except you have jungkook’s phone in your hands, taking a video of the blue morning sky with baby powder by jenevieve plays in the background.

“post it on my ig story.” he grins, an elbow casually leaning by the window as his fingers play with his lip ring again. the man hasn’t left that thing alone since he got it. you had to constantly slap his hand away when it was still fresh so it wouldn’t get infected.

you do as he says without a word, still feeling groggy from sleep. you leave his phone over your tummy, and you entertain yourself with the moving sceneries outside the window. you don’t know where the hell you are, and you marvel at the familiar yet unfamiliar.

and then you’re holding hands with jungkook over the gear stick. even though this isn’t the first time that he grabbed your hand for this romantic gesture, your heart skips a beat at the thought that he still wants you as close as possible after all this time.

it’s a choice you both make, staying by each other’s side every day. until the every day became years.

he catches you staring at your tangled hands, the sunlight shining on his face makes his brown eyes a few shades lighter. he brings your hand up to press his lips on your skin before holding the gear stick with you again.

he briefly looks at you through the side mirror. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you bite back the smiling forming on your lips, staring out the window again.

a dark tunnel. trees. trees. houses. little kids running. lavender. a woman opening an umbrella. you hear the music, but the words don’t register in your brain. more trees. a blue roof. brown birds. the clouds forming a light bulb. cosmos blooming near a stream. a cow still sleeping soundly under the sun. a fruit truck parked on the sidewalk. fallen leaves travelling aimlessly, fueled by the gentle wind. trees. tall and mighty. branches forming clouds. fruits as glistening christmas balls. how glorious. you want to be a tree.

as the car rolls through a speed bump, an idea pops in your head.

you dramatically gag, hand breaking away from jungkook to cover your mouth.

“babe, you okay?” he asks in concern, looking between you and the road back and forth.

“i feel nauseous. i-i can’t hold it.” you try your best sound panicked and distressed, sitting up to open the compartment infront of your seat. you quickly find an empty red plastic bag, and you bury your face in it.

“fuck- no, baby, hold on. not here.” he starts panicking too, nimble hands expertly parking the car beside the road.

you smile unknowingly, holding back your laughter and forcing your body to be stiff. jungkook has a very sensitive sense of smell, part reason why he is evidently hygienic. although you are the person he loves most in the world, there is no way in hell he won’t get annoyed with you throwing up in his car.

he goes around to fetch you, guiding you into walking by the bushes. you fake another gag with your urgent steps, still secretly laughing inside the bag.

“here, no one will see you.” he takes away the plastic bag and your facial muscles swiftly display a pained expression.

“wait, let me-” he holds back your hair, making sure there are no stray strands covering your face. his other hand rubs your back comfortingly, encouraging you to empty your stomach of your last meal. “go on, baby. so you’ll feel better. i have emergency clothes and toothbrush in the car so we can-”

you burst into fits of laughter, arms snaking around your boyfriend’s waist. “sorry. sorry. i’m joking! i just wanted to see what you’d do.”

he grunts in defeat, hands falling by his sides. “you really like to keep me on my toes, huh, baby?”

“yeah. just incase you were getting sleepy behind the wheel.” you giggle, kissing the corner of his lips. “wanna go to the beach?”

he only hears the crashing waves once you mention the beach. when he cranes his head to the back, he is greeted by the sea. one of the pros of having a day off on a weekday is that there are virtually less people in places that usually attracts them. it looks peaceful, and it almost makes him want to cry.

—

jungkook rents a cottage standing near the shore. he also had no choice but to buy the overpriced towels the owner sales-talked him into getting. he places them on top of the table before running back to his car on the cramped parking lot to get his sunscreen.

you stare out into the sea as you wait. the distinct smell of the saltwater and the sound of the waves and the birds melt away your weariness and worries.

the waters stretch out beyond your eyes could reach. there is the hyperawareness that there is another world deep under the blue, all the way down to the eerie trenches. and what brings a human the most thrill if not taking a dip into the great unknown?

you hum along to a random tune as you squirt sunscreen along your arms and legs, passing along the tube of sunscreen to your boyfriend before spreading the pearly white liquid on your skin. jungkook would go shirtless, except there’s not much sunscreen left to cover his entire upper body. either way, he decides he needs a little more of it for his shoulders, and he winces with a curse when too much sunscreen gets squeezed out from the tiny hole.

“baby, come here.” he coaxes you to move closer. you obey, and he scoops up some of the white magic from his tattooed shoulder. he leaves dots from your face to your neck, and then he blends them on your skin to protect it from the harsh sun.

“sticky.” you complain with a pout, rocking your feet back and forth in the air. the seat is too high that jungkook had to pick you up by the waist because you kept on slipping down when you tried to jump for it.

“skin cancer is real!” he chides for the nth time today, stretching your cheek with the tips of his fingers.

“never said it was fake.” you lightly slap his hand away with a grumble.

the next second, you’re barefoot sprinting towards the sea. the air parts as you power through, and it coalesce to fill up the spaces where your body has been. “the loser will do the dishes for the next two months!” you scream with a triumphant laugh.

“yah! this isn’t fucking fair!” he exclaims in disbelief, long limbs running as fast as they can, soles burning on the sand. but he is too late. once the saltwater soaks your feet, he has lost.

you cover your mouth in shock. you? defeating jungkook in a physical game? i mean, yes, there was a handicap. that’s because you fully expected to lose. anyhow, you are the one who does the dishes at home, so it doesn’t really matter whether you win or not.

you and jungkook reconcile where the water reaches your waist, and you smile at him teasingly. he frowns in response.

“i’m really happy that i won, so i’ll just do the dishes. don’t be sad!” you hold his face in your hands, pressing a kiss on his lips. he puckers them gently, and he chases you again when you make an attempt to pull away. he gives you two more light pecks.

you giggle at his lack of inhibition, turning your cheek so his lips land on your skin.

“i’ll do the dishes for two weeks instead. i have my pride.”

“okay. if that’s what you wa-” you get cut off when he splashes water on your face, the nostalgic yet unpleasant taste spreading on your tastebuds. drops of water drip down your hair and your face. you open your eyes with your mouth still slightly open, looking at him in shock.

and then it’s his turn to get wet. his childish joy gets dissolved when his whole body ends up submerged underwater. he stands back up, wiping his face with his hands as he coughs.

you watch him with a hand over your mouth, laughing silently.

“you’re really stepping up your game today, baby. what was in those fortune cookies from last night, huh?” he lightly pinches the sides of your waist with a mischievous smirk, refusing to admit defeat.

you squeal at the tickles that make your knees buckle, gripping his wrists tightly. but he doesn’t allow you mercy. he continues tickling your sides until you slip underwater, and you pinch your nose immediately because you’ve never learned how to properly hold your breath. should’ve paid for those swimming lessons instead of doll houses.

when you rise back up for oxygen, you find jungkook clapping his hands with his head thrown back, laughing out loud. “y-your face- your face. you should’ve seen it!”

“and when i catch you!” you scream, reaching for him but he swiftly dives into the water and swims away to where your feet can no longer touch the floor. you wallow in your fear of deep waters, folding your knees until the cold water reaches your neck.

with a grimace, you watch the water splash around as your boyfriend shows off his practiced strokes. “multi-talented bastard.”

—

you sit near the shore, the waves only reaching your exposed thighs. you patted yourself dry so you could grab jungkook’s phone in the car before you settled here, taking pictures of the beach and the sky. and the baby crab that stumbled as it ran across the rocky sand. thank god for water-resistant technology, you’re not too afraid to drop it.

your attention gets torn away from the screen when jungkook calls out your name. your head tilts to the side to watch him walk towards you, and your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets at the sight of him holding up a silver fish by its tail, long and thick in width. your thumb taps at the shutter with every step he takes, wanting to capture this moment to review the subject of your bewilderment later on. what the fuck goes on in your boyfriend’s mind?

he points at it, meeting you with a wide-eyed gaze as if he is also confused with himself.

you scramble to stand up. the fish increasingly looks intimidating as it draws nearer and nearer. “wait- shit- get it away from me! where did you even get that?!”

“back there.” he looks back at the sea, swinging the fish casually using his strong, inked hand. you flinch in surprise, leaning back to avoid getting slapped. “i was swimming and i felt something touch my hand.”

“and you brought it here because?” you ask him quizzically, raising your eyebrows as you gaze at the fish warily.

“you said you’re hungry. you wanna eat it?” he puts the fish in the middle of his chest as a make-shift necktie, his face painted with a beam of amusement.

you blink at him nonchalantly, snapping another picture like he wordlessly asked you to. “what even is it?”

he shrugs, catching the other end of the fish to inspect it in full scale. “i have no idea.”

“then just put it back and let’s grab fast food or something. i saw the people beside our cottage eating chicken and burger.”

he juts out his bottom lip, purposely drooping his eyes to make himself look sad. look, this tactic will definitely work like a charm at any other day. but only when he’s not cradling a damn fish like a baby.

“babe, it’s a relief to know that you can catch fish with your bare hands if we ever get stranded on an island. but that looks scary.”

“what do you mean? it’s cute!” he interjects, determined to defend his sea creature.

you swallow nervously when he carefully bends the fish, forming a big heart.

“see?”

that . . . that horrifying thing is just not cute.

“jeon jungkook, put it back or i’ll drown you!”

he smiles widely in jest, soaked strands of hair falling infront of his eyes like dominoes. your eyes flicker at his lip ring that twinkles under the blinding sunlight.

“but won’t you take a picture of us first?”

—

taglist! @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin @lllucere @unnatae @zqynmlk + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

[bitchlessdino]

Milk Me (M)

Pairing: junhui x gn!reader (@huiranghaes)

Genre: good ol' smut

Word count: 800ish

tags: blow job, mirror fixation, lace ties, pet names, spitting, cumplay, dumbification of junhui

author note: the fact i wrote this all in the same day, patting myself on the back. Happy birthday bb <3, my first moot, the one that gave me a lot of the opportunities i have today, i love you so much. jenna you mean absolutly so much to me and i hope you spend your birthday feeling loved and around the people you care about (aka me and ig svthub and tumblr moots too 🙄)

Junhui. Wen Junhui. Junhwi. Moon Junhwi.

It didn't matter how you say his name since it would roll off your tongue perfectly every single time. However, as much as you love his name, he likes hearing your voice call himself something else just a little bit more. 

“Baby boy, would you be so kind to tell me what you see in the mirror in front of you?”

You adore his exposed skin, clustered with red scratches that dragged along his otherwise beautiful torso. Your fingertips caress his skin like a feather, light but noticeable, his soft chuckles escaping under his heavy breath. “I see myself…with the love of my life.”

You smile against his back, lips pressing to his shoulder blade. “That’s right. Now.”

Your hand lowers down, tracing along he valley of his toned abdomen and past that perfectly sculpted waist to cup the underside of his balls. You run your hand over him, pressing the length up against his stomach where you drink in the fiery red tip, the mouth watering girth, every pretty vein, and how it grows bigger the more pressure you place on it. You look at his ear, drawing your lips near, ghosting over his sensitive skin, “Now what’s that?”

“Your cock. The cock was made for you and only you.” he manages to breathe out, feeling the hairs of his neck stiff up.

“Right again. Now tell me what you want to do with it.”

A slow, sallow breath leaves his lips, “I want you to use it. Use me…Milk me please”

His arms achely restrained in pretty lace ties helped up in prayer position to his chest, lightly tugging at its knots.

“Baby boy is so demanding, but I’ll give you what you want,” you take him by the forearm and shoving him in bed in a sit up position.

You kick his legs apart, spreading wide with just enough space for you to sit between. Your head slips through the loop of his arms, his tied wrist resting against the back of your next. Your eyes glisten in anticipation, one hand on his shaft, and then another. 

You drop a slick, thick ribbon of salvia down, slowly coating the side of him before rutting him through your hands. Junhui feels the slick sensation of your pressure, whining in that pretty way he does. You lick at your lips before pulling on hand away and wrapping your mouth around the tip. Junhui feels an itching sensation all over, the anticipation slowly killing him.

“Angel, please.”

The vibrations of your chuckles on his cock sent shivers down his spine, and goosebumps up his arms. You do him a favor by pushing past the tip and easing down, your eyes locked with him. Your swirl your tongue around the circumference, running him through your cheeks and bob. Your bitten lips, thick and wet wrapped tight around him, Junhui couldn’t help but audibly moan. His show was just as good as the effort he was given and all he could think about was how he was the luckiest guy in the world.

His tied hands behind your head push up against your scalp, pressing you deeper, covering more surface area. His hips instinctively thrust up, unable to help himself as he essentially fucks the back of your throat. He throws his head back mindlessly, lost in the pure chaos in his head unexplained by sloppiest top you were giving him. The squelching filled his ears, hips bucking to the pace of your rhythm, and he tries regaining his sanity. “Mouth…good…”

He lifts his head back up parallel the mirror from previously. His eyes glare back at the relection, absolutely gutted by the scene it gives. Your body, so willing yet domineering, mouth fucking him with every fiber of your being. He fingers through your hair, addicted by the heighten uses of his senses, feeling himself so incredibly close.

“Fuck…close…mmh…”

At those words, you don’t stop, instead the opposite. Ignoring the burning sensation of your force, the push him down your throat faster, harder, ensuing a staccato pacing of his breath before a loud groan. He spurts in your mouth, the hot liquid running smoothly down your throat before you pull the cock to have it land down on your tongue. You push yourself off from the ground, your filty hand presses firm on his thigh for balance, and you connect with his lips.

Your tongue transfers the cum straight to his mouth, letting him revel in the taste of himself through you. He pushes your head closer, his chest heaving against yours as he ran his tongue in you, feeling himself still aching beneath despite having already came just now. You tease along his tongue before releasing his with a bite to his bottom lip. Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you noticeably tired.

You grin at him like you have all night, a chaste kiss against his nose before pronouncing, “Best birthday gift ever.

[lipglosscherrybomb]

Late night confessions

I’m unbelievably bored so i decided to do this (i hate myself for even making this like I’m literally laughing rn this is so dumb and I’m embarrassed but if you wanna read i did try to take it seriously so go on ig)

*not proofread. Cause if i did I probably wouldn’t have posted it.*

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends for years, you’ve both been in love with each-other for the longest time but none of you have had the courage to confess your feelings. One night that was all about to change.

Warnings: mention of non-consensual touching, some angst.

~•~

There you were, hanging out in your room all by yourself. “Last kiss” by Taylor Swift plays on your laptop as you hugged the throw pillow in your bed as if you were 5 years old holding a teddy bear about to drift off and dream about chocolate rivers and cotton candy clouds. Instead you’re 17 and crying over another boy who didn’t actually like you but used you to get back at his ex-girlfriend.

You wanted to call Peter, let him comfort you, rant to you about how much of a jerk the guy was and how he never liked him then watch a movie with him until you felt better. But right now the last thing you wanted was another reminder of the fact that the guy you’re in love with isn’t in love with you and only thinks of you as his best friend.

Right then, just like clockwork, Your phone rings, Peter’s name flashing across the screen with a cute picture of him in his spider-suit and you next to him smiling as his head rests on your shoulder, you’d set it as his contact picture a few days ago. You smile at the memory and pick up the phone, pressing it to your ear.

“Hey” you try to sound as cheery as possible, trying to cover up the fact that you’ve been crying non-stop for hours.

“Hey…you okay? I heard you skipped last period and you never do that so I’m either starting to rub off on you or something really bad happened and you don’t wanna tell me” you knew he was making the joke to come off clueless, he knew something was wrong already.

“Nothing happened. Maybe I’m not just not as much of a rule-follower as you let yourself believe” you smile lightly.

“Okay rebel, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, seriously. You’re reaching.”

“Right, so if i came over right now that wouldn’t be a problem?”

“It would be, because I’m uh…doing homework” you cursed yourself silently in your head as you processed the half-assed excuse you knew he wouldn’t buy.

Right then you hear a tap on your window. Peter sits there on the fire escape for you to open up.

“Shit” you curse out openly in a whisper. Hanging up the phone and wiping your tears before heading towards the window. Your Spotify now playing “fake plastic trees” by Radiohead.

You sighed, opening the window and letting your friend in. You prayed to whatever celestial entity that was listening that he couldn’t tell your eyes were basically bloodshot.

“What did he do?” You could tell he was pissed off, ready to beat up anyone who’d hurt you.

“Chill out dude, seriously, it’s nothing. I’m fine” It wasn’t. But the last thing you want to do is cause a fight. You made your way to your bed and lied down.

“What happened?” He was now sat next to you. His voice softer. After all these years you still felt the same rush you did when he was close to you as the first time you realized you were in love with him. Your heart beat picked up. You hoped he couldn’t hear it even though you knew he could.

A certain feeling of insecurity made you sit up instead of lying down. You reached for your throw pillow to ease your nerves.

“It’s nothing okay?” You avoided eye contact now. “We were just hanging out, he wanted to do stuff, I didn’t want to, he got a little pushy so i left and he broke up with me later that day. End of story.”

“Did he touch you?” He sounded extremely pissed off now, you cringed.

“No, well- he tried but i pushed him off. It’s fine” It wasn’t, but you don’t want to cause problems.

“I’m gonna kill him, i swear” He got up abruptly, you grab his arm, your reflexes almost as quick as his but obviously not quite.

“You’ll do no such thing, Peter.” You pull him down and he lets you. Keeping eye-contact and looking at you as if you were the only person left in this world. That’s when you realized you were still holding his arm. In a self-conscious action, you blushed, intending to let go of the person who was making your head spin and your heart beat at an unnaturally fast pace.

As you were trying to pull away, he still hadn’t spoken, it felt like he froze in the moment how he looked at you so intensely. He wasn’t moving either, but as you tried to move your hand, he stopped you. You didn’t understand it, you guys touch all the time. Why was he so hung up on this moment. Why were you?

Your mind was going a million miles a minute. The familiar, stunningly-electric temporary rush was beginning to fade. You were used to it, it happened every time you touched him, and you always wondered if maybe he felt it too, this moment made you begin to think maybe he was just as in love with you as you were with him.

“I can’t stand the thought of anybody hurting you.” His voice was softer now, speaking in a volume that only you could hear, almost a whisper. He’s still keeping eye-contact. You shift on the spot directing your eyes to your computer instead where your spotify was open still. “Disintegration” by turnover was now playing.

I quickly learn that my efforts to avoid him were useless when you his hand on your cheek making you face him, though your gaze is fixated on the laptop. If you look at him now, you’ll kiss him. That might permanently dent your friendship with him. You can’t lose him. Not now, not ever.

“Y/n look at me” his voice is still soft, you can feel his eyes on the side of your face, his hand still on your cheek. “Please” he’s begging now. Hesitating, you finally face him.

“Why do you care so much?” Is all you managed to get out. You need answers. Even if he doesn’t care for you in that way you need to know.

“Because” he pauses for a moment. Suspicion is starting to hit you. “You’re my best-friend”

“No, Peter. This isn’t how you treat your ‘best-friend’, okay? This isn’t how you talk to your ‘best-friend’!” You step away now, confused and a little upset. You fold your arms over your chest as you move to the other side of the room, next to your desk.

He gets up as well and in a heartbeat he’s standing in front of you.

“Why are you so upset?” He tries to take your hand now. You won’t let him, not when he’s looking at you in that way that makes your heart melt.

“Because I don’t get you, Peter.” You’re frustrated, letting yourself lean against the wall.

“You don’t get me?! I don’t get you!” ‘Great, now we’ve both matched each-other’s frustration’ you think to yourself as you listen to him.

“I mean first you complain to me about all of the asshole guys you date, and i have to sit there and comfort you which I don’t mind doing at all because i love you, but then all i can think to myself is how much i like you and how i wish you were half as interested in me as you are in those other guys. Then i get home and i lay in bed and all i can think about is you, i mean, fuck, you’re all i ever think about. And the thing is that i love everything about you, i love everything you do. How perfectly your hair falls into place even when it’s messy, how beautiful you look when you’re when you’re doing something as simple as reading. How you put your hair behind your ears when you study. How good you always smell. How your smile lights up the entire room. How every time you touch me my heart beats so fast I’m pretty sure I’m having a heart attack. How badly i want to be with you…” You couldn’t take your eyes off him. You were entranced by his beauty, by his words. You were in shock.

“And how i really wish you’d say something right now” But you couldn’t.

“You love me?” Is all you could get out. And after everything you just heard you were really hoping he’d say yes.

“Of course i love you. I always have.” He’s getting closer and closer. Your breath hitches.

“Good.” You smile. “Because i love you too.”

In a second his lips are pressed against yours. His hands moving to your hips as you’re pressed up against the wall. You move your hands to his hair.

You couldn’t believe it, after all these years, he was in love with you. And now everything fell into place.

[down-thedrain]

mandela v2. elaborate 👁👁

so funny story this ask has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months cuz i honestly didn't know how to even begin to describe what mandela v2 is. it's an enigma even i don't know what it is it's just a dark spot in my brain that i occasionally stick my head into and come out covered in ashes and piranhas but. i'll try ig !!

it's kinda just me taking the characters and very general rules of this universe and making like. a completely new story put of them . a lot of the events are similar but shuffled around and there's a ton of new shit and it is FULL of headcanons and really self indulgent shit lol. it's not based on anything and there's no central premise it's just. another version of tmc. hence v2

i can't list every change in there because even i don't know the full extent of the changes i made but uh

- cesar has a special interest in the occult because autistic cesar is real to ME okay. he writes a bunch of shit about alternates and they figure out how to channel spirits because they're just like that. he kinda becomes a hermit the older they get and they have a very normal kinship with alternates that definitely isn't anythign to worry about :)

- cesar lives his encounter with alt!cesar but mark doesn't so mark's ghost (after escaping limbo and reliving his trauma because mark has to be absolutely miserable all the time it's required by law) follows him around and cesar occasionally channels him. but it works like in ace attorney so he physically changes to look like mark n shit it's funky

- bps isn't a high school club turned society but rather a giant underground operation with a head council and divisions in mandela + bythorne + werksha + etc. with the main goal of fighting both alternates and the police wherever they can. they're the ones that discover that dragonbreath bullets kill alternates and they have an entire research division it's cool i love v2 bps

- jonah joins bps before adam does in this au and ze's kinda like. the vice president of bps despite technically being too young when they first join. they mean everything to me in this au you have no idea

- mandelatech is a much larger corporation too. bps/mcpd/mandelatech are like. 3 warring factions kinda (which. yes. means that dave and eve end up fighting w bps a lot. it's. eugh)

- thatcher stays as lieutenant a lot longer than he does in canon and ae's just. so pissed at everything god bless. ☕ wants everything to be okay but he buries those hopes in pure rage <3 ☕'s canonically won fights against alts with aer bare hands so people know not to fuck with him. he'd call canon thatcher wet and pathetic LOL

- generally v2's on a much larger scale and kinda considers the world of tmc as a whole, rather than just focusing on specific characters. idk i like worldbuilding it's fun so sue me. there are a lot of ocs that fill the space suffice to say and i am totally willing to just throw whatever i want in there. this au is my witch's cauldron

- mervin has some shit to do maybe good for him

i love this au but it's like. definitely my least comprehensible (except for maybe tmcblr is that even counts) i just do whatever the fuck i want and no one can stop me. don't ask me questions about it i don't have to explain myself

[thisisawonderfulusername]

you’re back

five hargreeves x reader

requested: @generouswombyrat

prompts: 19- “oh, and s/he’s totally in love with you.”

again i changed the prompt up a bit, but i think it’s close enough

summary: when five returns from the future, old feelings resurface

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, a dash of angst. for once there isn’t any cursing (i’m pretty sure) lmao

word count: 1.5k

a/n: a few changes to the universe ig: five returns around the same age as the siblings, and not in his thirteen y/o body. reader is not one of the adopted ones, and not one of the forty-three. i was actually working on this all week while sitting in my classes lol. i really hope it meets expectations, i really like it myself. alrighty, enjoy!

the musical voice of tiffany darwish can be heard throughout the house, muffled through the walls of five’s childhood bedroom. you stand at the window, looking out at the fire escape you used to climb up, just to hang out with him.

with a sigh, you turn around to look at the rest of the room. it’s spotless. you assume it has been for a while now. grace definitely kept up with the whole house, even with all of the kids gone. there was no layer of dust, all of the old uniforms in the closet are still ironed. it brings you back to those days, and it’s hard to believe that it’s been sixteen years since he disappeared.

you can remember that day like yesterday, yet you were only thirteen then.

-

you looked up at the fire escape, taking a short breath. you have done this for years, and you had perfected the technique of getting your coffee and donuts past the ladder to the first platform.

the bag of donuts is held in your teeth, freeing one of your hands. the other holds the tray of the coffees, and you carefully put a foot on the first rung of the ladder, before grabbing on to the side it and pulling yourself.

it used to be a slow process, but you have mastered it by now. slide your hand up, and step up a few more rungs. when you got close enough, you placed the tray and donuts on the platform and climbed the rest of the way. luckily, the rest of the way up was stairs.

when you got to the window and knocked on the glass a few times, you expected five to open it like always, but instead it was vanya who appeared.

your eyebrows furrowed as she pushed the window open, and you hesitantly climbed in. sitting on the sill and silently dropping to the floor, to avoid the risk of his father finding out that you were here. “vanya? where’s five?”

she seemed nervous, which you thought was weird. you slowly placed the food on his desk as she played with her fingers.

“he’s- he’s gone, y/n.”

you think you’ve heard her wrong. you had to. there was just no way.

“what?” you question in disbelief, hating the small crack in your voice. “what do you mean, ‘gone’? what do you mean?” you sound more desperate the more you speak.

“he ran out.” she explains, avoiding eye contact. “during dinner. he was arguing with dad about time travel and he just- he just left.”

you fall onto the edge of his bed, feeling the tears beginning to swell in your eyes. “no.” you whisper to yourself, “no!”

before you know it, you’re sobbing, and vanya is at your side to comfort you.

-

you bite your lip as the memory rises to the surface. sitting on the bed, you focus on the lyrics playing.

i think we’re alone now

the beating of our hearts is the only sound

the music stops as there’s a loud rumble is heard outside. the whole house feels like it’s shaking and outside, there is flashing blue light that floods into the room through the window.

you run down the stairs, and into the large courtyard. there, in the sky, is a glowing blue portal type thing.

“what is it?” you hear vanya ask.

“don’t get too close!” allison’s voice, and then,

“yeah, no shit.”

luther pushes past everyone, looking up at the thing. “looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. either that or a miniature black hole. one of the two.”

“pretty big difference there, paul bunyan.” diego tells him.

“out of the way!” klaus comes running out of the house, and you quickly step to the side as he rushes forward with a fire extinguisher, spraying at the anomaly before giving up and just throwing it in. it disappears.

“what is that gonna do?” you shout over the loud rumbling.

“i don’t know,” klaus shrugs, a whine in his tone, “do you have a better idea?”

electricity starts to crackle around the portal, and klaus is falling back behind everyone again.

“everybody get behind me.” luther commands, and you don’t mind listening to him for once, but of course diego has to step in front too.

“i vote for running, come on!” klaus yells.

you watch as you can see a person pushing through before falling onto the ground from the portal.

as if it didn’t happen, the thunder and electricity in the air disappear, and all of you step forward towards the man. your eyebrows furrow as you think you recognize him while he is standing up.

“does anyone else see...” klaus points towards him, “he looks like a grown up five.”

your eyes widen as you realize that he’s right. “oh my god.” you rush forward, grabbing him and crushing him in a hug. “oh my god, you’re back!”

“they’re totally in love with each other.” you can hear klaus say it, and your face suddenly feels hot, but you choose to ignore it.

-

you’re back in his room, and the memory of him disappearing that day is replaced by all of the good times you had together. thinking about what klaus said, you think that he just might be right. you felt it when you were younger- of course you didn’t realize what it was at the time. you felt like a kid again. heart racing at the sight of him... all grown up.

yet he still looked like your five.

“i missed you.” your voice is surprisingly quiet as you lay on your back next to him, staring up at the ceiling as you play with your fingers that rest on your stomach.

“i missed you too.” his voice is quiet as well, and you turn your head ever so slightly to catch a small glimpse at him.

biting your lip for a moment, you think about what to say. “where were you?” you decide to ask, and you can tell that the question makes him tense for a moment.

he takes a glance at you, before taking a deep breath. “i got stuck in the future.” he tells you, and your eyebrows furrow slightly.

“stuck?” you repeat.

“yeah.” he gives a small nod with the confirmation, “i overestimated myself, and the consequences were like some sort of sick punishment. i should have just listened to that old man.”

there’s quiet for a moment as you wonder what he meant by a punishment. turning on your side, you look at him. “what do you mean? was it not just… normal?”

his head turns and his eyes meet yours, and you can see some sort of pain in them. “it was an apocalypse.”

you’re stunned into silence, and your lips just hang apart as you try to process his confession. “i don’t know how it happened, but there was fire and everything was just crumbled to the ground and-” he gulps slightly, and your eyes soften, “i saw all of them. dead.”

“oh my god, five.” you know who he meant, and you can only imagine what he felt in that moment. your hand meets his and you hold it softly. “i’m so sorry.”

“it wasn’t your fault.” you can feel his grip around your hand tighten slightly. “i just wish i wasn’t stupid enough to actually try that.”

“well...” you pause for a moment, not exactly sure what to say. “you’re back now, and that’s all that matters.” of course it’s not all that matters. he must have gathered so much trauma over the sixteen years he was stuck in a literal wasteland… you couldn’t imagine having to go through that.

he’s quiet for a second, before he turns on his side as well and your eyes meet. it was like staring into the past. “it is.” his agreement is surprising, but it makes you smile softly.

a long silence falls, and it feels like you’re just staring into his eyes for what could be hours, but in reality it was only really a few minutes or even less.

you take a shaky breath. “can i kiss you?” the question slips from your mouth unexpectedly, and you nearly slap yourself in the face. “god, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-”

you aren’t able to finish your apology for the words you blurted out because he had leaned forward and caught your lips in his.

it seemed like something you were waiting for for years. maybe you were. it felt right.

it doesn’t last long enough for you, but you feel like the oxygen has been sucked from your body as you open your eyes to look at him. a small smile spreads across your face.

“i’m glad you’re back.”

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever  

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs  @andreasworlsboring101​  

five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty @avovada @badwolf00593

[leia-imogen]

aaron & the family he's found all by himself; vol. 2 // vol. 1

( ft. short jokes, a belated birthday shopping trip, & an ultra-chaotic winter break )

( for @criswisstuff & anyone who enjoyed the first one <3 )

savannah, who is 5'9, is constantly teasing aaron and cleo for being short. katelyn's good at 5'6, and also a bit impossible to tease bcs she's the actual best, so she gets to escape this

cleo ( 5'2 ) is perfectly delighted to have someone shorter than her for once in her life, even by only 2 inches

aaron: guys, just try and see this from my point of view

sav: [ collapses ]

katelyn: [ crouches down ]

cleo: [ sits cross-legged on floor ]

aaron: dude you're literally 2 inches taller than me

cleo: 2 and a quarter

sav is so smug about this but in a good-natured way, in that she and cleo call aaron "kid" or "kiddo" or "pipsqueak" and he doesn't mind bcs they always say it w such a huge smile and he likes to respond to sav with "how's the weather up there, tall-ass?"

and katelyn thinks it's ridiculously adorable how tiny aaron is and obviously she uses him as an armrest all the time

katelyn, petting aaron's hair: guys guys omg he's like an angsty mini blond kitten and i would kill for him <3

sav, popping up between them: mini-yard :))

before i get super distracted, i just wanna mention that aaron met sav and cleo towards the end of november, so they missed the twin's birthday

but sav still insists that she must take him shopping bcs sure his fashion sense is fine but there's always room for improvement, isn't there, aaron??

he relents, so long as she and cleo and katelyn ( who already gave him a birthday present?? why's she doing this??? ) don't spend too much money

sav drags him all around south carolina to the best thrift stores she can find and cleo and katelyn are amazed that she can get such fantastic deals on the supermodel clothes she wears

fr she's literally a fashion design major ( + minoring in business management ) and she shows up to class in skilfully done drugstore makeup and an absolutely killer outfit for like 15 bucks

she grew up poor, and she's still poor now, even if she ( thankfully ) managed to scrape a cheerleading scholarship

sav, flicking through a rack of dresses labelled $4 apiece: RIP to little miss rich bitch reynolds but i'm different ;)

no hate to allison she's awesome but she grew up in the lap of luxury surrounded by designer brands so she knows NOTHING about thrifting and rationing money in general

oh and sav and allison have kind of a frenemies thing going on bcs they're both fighting for the top spot of their fashion design course

they spend the whole day shopping and aaron ends up with a highly upgraded wardrobe that contains a lot of cute pastel stuff and sav's promise to do his makeup

aaron insists on paying for dinner at the really nice pizza place a short drive from campus even tho they all protest

and andrew knows he's found new friends, but has no idea that it's the vixens and he's dating one of them. nicky does tho, but he's sworn to secrecy

nicky thinks his new clothes are adorable and is stunned when aaron tells him the total cost

"oh my GOD that girl sounds like a genius."

"yeah, her name's sav. you guys,, would get along, i think."

okay now for the winter break part!!

i think that you can get permission to stay at dorms if you're an international student or something??

anyways since sav's super upset bcs her father straight-up told her not to come home bcs he has a new girlfriend ( god i hate sav's father )

katelyn would stay with her, but her dad can finally have her home in new york for christmas and she really doesn't want to miss it

cleo, the only one with a properly functional family, is going back to her big family house and loving parents and grandma and aunt and siblings and cousins. love that for her.

so aaron and sav are stuck at psu for 2 weeks and aaron's surprisingly cool with this. and sav's excited bcs for the first time since her mom died, she can spend her christmas with someone she actually wants around instead of her shitty-ass father and his constant stream of bitchy girlfriends

they spend a lot of time together, stealing food from the athlete's dining hall to make their own weird combos, which usually ends with aaron making something Cool and Interesting and sav gagging and spitting out whatever strange concoction she had previously insisted would taste good

i literally can't bring myself to give a shit about the twinyards' deal bcs andrew literally became best friends with renee?? and hooks up with guys at eden’s??? idk what's going on there but it's like andrew is trying to control aaron's life while he can do whatever he wants??? and honestly wtf????

also let me just make it clear that i ADORE andrew so so much he's one of my favourite comfort characters ever but i'm not gonna make excuses for his shitty behaviour. i fully believe he heals and puts away his pride to apologise to aaron, nicky, and kevin for his treatment of them

that's definitely not to say that aaron's internalised homophobia isn't eww, but with so many important people in his life gay, he makes a huge effort to get over it

so andrew just thinks that aaron is spending a lot of time in the library or out with nicky or something

and when aaron tells sav about this deal, she's kinda horrified, but it's pretty clear to her that aaron so desperately wants to fix his relationship with his brother, and she's not in any place to discourage him, is she?

the only thing she can do is hope that he won't come out all the worse for it

and stare at the boy curled up on the other end of the pale pink sofa cleo's parents had gotten, wonder just how much shit he'd been put through, and decide she was going to be his best friend

aaron's face has gone entirely impassive. sav nudges his fluffy-socked foot with her own, then reaches out to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. "careful, you'll wrinkle your pretty little face."

aaron is very caught off guard by this, and very promptly flushes bright red, which contrasts with the pale teal hoodie he stole from katelyn

"okay, enough talk about depressing crap. wanna go make christmas cookies now?"

"yeah."

so they make christmas cookies. well, it was supposed to be christmas cookies, but it turns into double chocolate fudge cookies somewhere along the line. neither of them knows how

them baking together is the definition of chaos. they're still blasting songs, and sav is singing along terribly

"yOu'Re A mEaN oNe, Mr. GrInCh," while poking aaron's cheek as he tries to mix something. he throws a handful of flour at her. "yOu ReAlLy ArE A hEel."

anyways obviously sav retaliates and that ends in a flour fight. it only stops when aaron deadass cracks an egg on sav's head and she smears chocolate into his hair

she also tries to make him sing along to baby, it's cold outside

"i'Ve GoT tO Go `wAAyyy~" she holds a spatula up to his face

"go away."

they video call katelyn, who takes one look at the mess in the cramped dorm kitchen and sighs so loudly and dramatically that her dad pops in and asks if everything's okay

aaron freezes up at the sight of him and sav quickly turns off the camera, bcs they both want to make good impressions on him, and being covered in various cookie ingredients just won't cut it, ya know?

the cookies turn out delicious and sav sends all their group chat various photos of the process, most of which consist of selfies with her making goofy faces while aaron is simultaneously baking and flipping off the camera

plus a several videos of sav enthusiastically dancing and mouthing the lyrics of, as follows, all i want for christmas is you, let it snow, and santa claus is coming to town and aggressively pointing a spatula at aaron

"c'mon aari, just sing! please??? please???? please you can do it i believe in you!!"

finally he just. gives up. "okay, you know what? fine, i'll sing to ONE and then you will STOP bothering me you insolent dumbass."

sav beams. santa baby starts playing. aaron is very clearly going through five stages of grief in 0.5 seconds

"go on," sav says sweetly as she slides in next to a pouting aaron, "i'll sing with you."

sav slings an arm around his shoulder and sways with him, so it's just her doing that and him grumpily mumbling the lyrics

and when the cookies are cooling down, they start cleaning the kitchen up. aaron rubs some spilled egg yolk into sav's hair but it goes pretty okay otherwise, since they're just listening to more christmas songs and chatting about light stuff, like aaron's biochem course, sav's fashion course, and their dumb classmates

aaron mostly listens tho, and learns that sav kind of hates allison reynolds for giving up her inheritance when she would do ANYTHING for even the tiniest fraction of that money

but she still thinks allison's gorgeous bcs c'mon

and that sav's dream is to one day open her own boutique!!

aaron spends most of the actual christmas day with the monsters at eden's bcs nicky and andrew wanted to

he spent a lot of the time texting on their group chat

doessavvyisgay: so u just go to a nightclub every week??

unaliveme: i mean yeah, i literally worked here for a while. we needed money and nicky was already working 2 jobs night and day

actualblessing: babe ur backstory is so tragic

unaliveme: i'm a fox for a reason ig

cleo.magda: Yes but-

doessavvyisgay renamed this conversation "aaron miniyard support group"

unaliveme: oh ffs

unaliveme: sav subject change go

doessavvyisgay: i'm at the clothes store what should i get?

actualblessing: something pretty :)

doessavvyisgay: sorry, i can't buy the cashier

cleo.magda: Wow.

doessavvyisgay: I DID GET HER NUMBER THO

unaliveme: lmaooo what's her name?

doessavvyisgay: uh

unaliveme: savannah istg u don't even know her name??

actualblessing: s a v

actualblessing: damn u really do be turning on the Charm tho

actualblessing: respect i didn't even talk to aaron till i asked him for notes bcs he has rly pretty notes and also a rly pretty face

actualblessing: and even then i was like :0

unaliveme: IT WAS CUTE I PROMISE

doessavvyisgay: u 2 = the only valid heterosexual couple

actualblessing: rt

unaliveme: oh shit i'm getting super drunk

cleo.magda: Aaron, you drink? That's not legal, get out of there right now. Kids these days-

unaliveme: cleo u have literally seen me get drunk af,, the first time we met,,, and anyways this is how my family bonds ✌🏻

doessavvyisgay: that's. so damn weird kiddo but go off ig

actualblessing: no go find better things to bond about other than alcohol and weird sweaty dancing

cleo.magda: Yeah, go watch some Christmas movies!

unaliveme: nicky makes us watch die hard every year

doessavvyisgay: see u in hell, kiddo ;)

cleo.magda: I meant things like The Polar Express and Home Alone.

actualblessing: merry christmas ya filthy animals!!

doessavvyisgay: merry xmas y'all i'm gonna go to that christmas party bcs i'm super bored

unaliveme: merry christmas mothers and fuckers

cleo.magda: Merry Christmas, you guys!