#to ‘stay in their lane’ or ‘mind their business’ and ‘try not to judge’

[thefluxsystem]

“Why are there so many mentally ill people all of the sudden?”

There’s a few dozen different reasons, but we could start with the fact that it’s socially expected to treat children as subhuman

[sweetbunpura]

Hey, I have something I'd like to ask. If you're uncomfortable with this question, feel free to delete this, but I wanted to ask for some advice from an older twst fan.

I've seen so many people judging others for liking x Readers in Twst since much of the main cast are minors and many fans in the Twst community are adults.

I'm not even talking about smut fics, just.. regular cute romance stuff.

And I'm feeling stupidly conflicted about this because when I first got into Twst, I was still a teen, around the same age as most of the cast, so it felt ok for me to ship myself or a self-insert oc with them.

But I'm almost 21 now, I'm almost older than Leona which feels... so weird...

I just...

I don't know what to do...

I've know these characters since I was in highschool. It felt like I was going to school along side them, but I'm an adult now and most of them are still the same age, despite how many of their birthdays have gone by.

I fell in love with them and I still love them, but I'm changing and growing and they... aren't and it hurts.

And even more, I've seen people yelling at others in the community when they try to age characters up so they can write those stories and saying they can't do that because that's still weird and gross and that they just need to let go because the game 'isn't for them anymore'.

I don't know how to deal with this...

Am... Am I weird or strange for still wanting to romantically enjoy these characters?

No, not in the slightest.

I'm 29 and I love the living hell out of Leona. Is that weird? To some people, but I've been in enough fandoms in my years to just ignore what people say about stuff like that.

I've noticed throughout the months of being in the TWST fandom, how many people stick their noses into other people's business and then complain about it to someone else. You guys have a block button and a blacklist tag for a REASON, please use it instead of insulting people for liking something you don't.

If people like KaliJami, let them. Don't sit here and insult them for liking it, don't point out very loudly how liking that ship is wrong and people should be shunned for it. It's so easy to mind your business and stay in your lane.

If people like an AU someone made and you don't? Cool, block the tag and move on. Don't sit there and yell about how wrong people are.

And if people like x reader? Cool, it's fun to imagine those scenarios cause guess what? They're not real and it's not harming anyone.

Let people have fun in a fandom and stop trying to police everyone, fix you up a nice reading nook and sit there and enjoy that space you made.

From a fandom veteran to anyone new coming into the fandom. Please curate your experience.

[cosmichighpriestess]

I may appear normal. But there's nothing normal about me. You can laugh at that and not believe me. As a divine truth teller, it's not an easy job. My light exposes outstanding members of society's dark side, they can't help it when I'm around other people they show me the side of them they don't show to other people. Tell me, would that ability create a normal person?

People tell me all their secrets. Because they know I will keep them and I will not judge them. You'd be surprised how much people hide in the dark. But I don't enjoy going out into society because my energy is not a playground to play in, my energy is like an acid trip or feeling like you are in another dimension, I'm a portal opener and people tend to use my energy, they project their insecurities onto me, and they give me all their burdens and karma because they know instinctively that I can heal them. I help heal people when they expose their true selves to me. I expose unresolved trauma in people. People naturally trauma dump onto me because they know I am safe to open up to.

This can be exhausting because people dump all their trauma on me and I take it and transmute it for them. This is why I'm a loner and I need a lot of extra downtime to rest and relax. If I had a large friend group I would end up being used and become everyone's therapist/healer for free. This is why I serve when I can to anyone I can and lead the way by example. Nurturing them, giving them exactly what they need, exactly what they need to hear, the tools they need to overcome any obstacles with empathy, no tough love only compassion and non-judgment. Because there is a way of pushing someone into their freedom and peace without shaming them for a situation they didn't deserve.

Because I actually want them to find bliss without anything outside of themselves, I have no agenda other than to be a safe space and to help them out of victim mentality. But this is why people get very upset with me when I don't chase them. They want to be in my safe space while still disrespecting me, I won't let them and so I leave and remove myself and this attracts stalkers to me. I'm not below anyone but people want me to lower myself for them even though I'm an ascended master with far more knowledge than they could fathom. Not better, just on a higher plane.

So they start rumors that I'm a witch bitch, that I'm two faced, stuck up, full of herself, "there must be a reason she's always alone", she must be crazy. Ect. I'm not dangerous and I'm not a danger to myself. Meanwhile, I'm staying in my own lane minding my business, not on drugs, just some ptsd from narcissistic individuals, and I'm not causing any attention to myself, just existing. I'm allowed to take up space and exist.

These people only wanted me for the energy I supplied. I could give them a look and just understand exactly what they are going through. They wanted more of my energy,my love & healing touch and when I removed myself from their disrespect they began to feel angry, confused, vengeful and hateful. They listened to their ego instead of their hearts and began to curse me unknowingly and knowingly from afar.

What they didn't see was someone struggling with abusive people everywhere I went, getting bullied, rejected by everyone, used by men, feeling like giving up, endless nights crying alone, struggling with my own demons, my own trauma, my family trying to destroy me, and feeling like everyday all I could do was just keep going and keep my head above the water as a single mom.

I still stayed true to myself and didn't retaliate or give up on myself and God. They despised me even more because everything they did to smear my name, humiliate me, to try to destroy me didn't work, I took their shit and made flowers with what I was given. I look untouched, I look like I haven't been through any hardships, I don't look like what I've gone through, I appear to be aging backwards because of the result of all my internal healing and self love. When you heal, you glow from the inside.

When I learned the reason why people were hurting me left and right was because they envied me and misunderstood me, I stopped caring what other people thought about me because it had nothing to do with me. Spirit is haunting these people who backstabbed me and tried to destroy my reputation. Spirit is reminding them of all the times that I healed them, breathed life and hope back into these people when they were down.

Because they wish that they could just forget about me and project onto me that I'm worthless and worth nothing and a horrible person. I learned deeply from each lesson and I learned how to trust the Divine, Source. I learned that when praises go up, blessings come down. God is the Source. Money means nothing to God, absolutely nothing, all I needed was to write down what I needed and God provided everything on my list in time. God would use other people to bless me when I needed it the most.

I moved in integrity, discipline, blind faith and obedience for what my instructions were straight from Source. I moved in silence and I listened carefully to what God was telling me. Now, after I encounter more envious people wherever I go, and they cast their evil eye curse onto me, saying, "oh you're so lucky, you're so lucky that you get this and that, gosh oh you're so pretty I'm so jealous you have that! what did you do to get that?"ect. I will just look at them dead in the eye and say, "lessons learned, blessings earned." And smile.

Then I will never let that person near me again or speak to them. My authenticity triggers all the people not living from their true inner selves. That's literally my job, why deny my role and assignment from Source? They call me intense and intimidating, but I call it unapologetic authenticity and taking no shit from anyone. I have no room for jealous people in my life and I will not tolerate it anymore, because I worked hard daily internally every second for everything that I have and I will not let someone project onto me that I don't deserve it because of how I appear. Lessons learned; blessings earned. It is my superpower to see the truth within all beings and as a divine truth teller it is my responsibility to expose the truth for the highest good of all.

[thestarseersystem]

Systems, you can do whatever you want, forever. I don't care anymore. And if I care later, that's someone else who pilots this meat body.

Syscourse is stupid. I may scroll through the tag of my own curiosity and outrage, but getting mad over how another system does or doesn't operate is stupid.

I do the following:

Roleplay and make picrews and do silly videos with my alters and dress up

Romanticize my symptoms as a coping mechanism because that's all I got

Edit my shit and constantly fight in my head, because who's actually right here

Take shit personally. Hey what the fuck you looking at??

Thinking about committing and constantly threatening violence. Because evil alters are poggers actually

Half of the system is hypersexual. Including the littles. I've been hypersexual since I was bodily 5 years old. Whatcha gonna do, give me therapy about it? I need it.

Have a lot of problematic behaviors. So what. Who doesn't. You aint pure, bitch

Using names that I wasn't born with. Because apparently people get mad about that. I'm not elaborating. Y'all just wanna trigger ppl with OCD all day, huh.

Etc etc etc.

I'm unpalatable. DID, OSDD and other dissociative disorders aren't pretty or happy or easy to deal with. It's dark and dirty and grungy and sucky and I become an asshole sometimes.

Stop expecting systems to be perfect or having perfect labels and perfect names or perfect existences. We had to do whatever we could to survive, and that means doing morally questionable shit. That means taking up space. That means stop judging people when they do something you don't like. Because they probably are not in recovery or in therapy or getting the right treatment or wanting to get treatment or needing everything you needed.

Systems have no set way to be. Yes, I'm mainly anti-endo and do think all systems come from trauma, but do you know what I'm not gonna do? Go and harass people about it. I block people, constantly. I constantly question if I should block people on my side of things because of their stupid fucking opinions. I stay in my fucking lane and try to mind my own business.

But sometimes I'm a nosy bitch, sometimes I'm curious about what's going on. Because there's no positive or neutral system content most of the time. But there's always some crazy drama going on. And that's what I assume some of y'all are doing when looking at this post.

So, just take a step back and ask yourself, are you willing to die on this hill and keep shitting on other fucking randos on the internet, for shit you have no right to question, or are you going to log off and touch some fucking grass? Because honestly, I don't care anymore, and you shouldn't either.

Live authentically, even if that means being a little punk ass bitch or mauling a stranger.

I'm done with keeping up appearances and masking in this community. I don't need a crumb of validation or acceptance, I'm just throwing this out there to anyone in the trenches. Don't give a shit for a moment. Eat some grass instead of being online.

[mrsbsmooth]

Scripts - S7 - Episode 23 (Part 1 of 2)

Your LI's apology

NARRATOR: Aww, looks like {0} is finally ready to chat with {1}.

NARRATOR: Phew! I was scared for a while, they’ve only been married for a day.

NARRATOR: Wait, what? They don’t actually get married during Snog, Marry, Pie?!

NARRATOR: Next you’ll be telling me the babies in the Baby Challenge aren’t real?

NARRATOR: What??!! Plastic??! Let’s get on with it, shall we?

PLAYER_IDLE: So, you’re ready to talk?

{0}_SAD: Sorry I’ve been aloof today.

{0}_IDLE: I just needed time, {1}.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: And space to think about things, you know?

{0}_IDLE: It’s not easy to have that in here.

{0}_IDLE: But I want to chat and clear things up.

{0}_IDLE: Get it all out in the open.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: No rumours, no secrets.

{0}_IDLE: Just you and me, and the truth.

{0}_HAPPY: What do you say? Ready to chat?

I don’t like how you handled things

PLAYER_IDLE: I’ve actually felt so confused by this whole thing.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: The lack of communication here is not the one.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I don’t want to do this here.

{0}_IDLE: I’m not saying I don’t agree with you.

{0}_IDLE: But can we take this somewhere more private?

Yeah, let’s resolve things

PLAYER_IDLE: I wanna get this sorted.

PLAYER_SAD: It’s been playing on my mind and I don’t like all the uncertainty.

{0}’s face softens.

{0}_IDLE: I know. That’s how I feel.

{0}_IDLE: Let’s go and talk properly.

I suppose so

PLAYER_IDLE: I mean, I guess so.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: This has all been really weird.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Yeah, I didn’t handle this very well.

{0}_IDLE: Can we please go somewhere and talk in private?

PLAYER_IDLE: Where are we going then?

{0}_IDLE: Daybeds? Shade, privacy, comfort.

PLAYER_IDLE: Let’s do it.

You and {0} walk over to the daybeds side-by-side.

You settle on one of the daybeds, stretching out your legs. {0} sighs heavily and flops down beside you.

PLAYER_IDLE: So then.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: So then.

PLAYER_HAPPY: ‘Sup?

{0}_HAPPY: Stop making me smile already, this is serious.

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m just being myself.

{0}_IDLE: That’s the problem.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Huh, how’s that a problem?

{0}_IDLE: I like you too much.

PLAYER_IDLE: Oh?

{0}_IDLE: First thing’s first, I want to say I’m sorry.

{0}_SAD: I should have chatted to you earlier.

{0}_IDLE: Instead of moping off and sleeping outside without checking facts.

It’s ok, I get it

PLAYER_IDLE: You didn’t know what went on, you needed some space. I get it.

PLAYER_IDLE: I won’t judge you for that.

{0}_SAD: That’s all it was.

{0}_IDLE: Thanks for getting it.

Yeah, it was immature

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I was embarrassed for you, like check the facts first.

PLAYER_IDLE: That’s the least you could’ve done.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I fully accept that.

{0}_SAD: That’s what I’m trying to do now.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I know it might be too little too late.

I wasn’t bothered

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m unbothered by it. I’m trying to stay in my lane.

PLAYER_HAPPY: What you do is your business.

{0}_SAD: You don’t mind what I do?

PLAYER_IDLE: You’re your own person.

{0}_IDLE: I was just trying to process the stuff I’d heard.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: So, I’ll say it again…

{0}_IDLE: I’m really sorry for handling things badly.

{0}_IDLE: So I want to do what I should have done from the start.

{0}_IDLE: And hear your side of things.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: And explain why I reacted that way.

{0}_IDLE: We’re fresh and new, don’t feel like you owe me anything.

{0}_IDLE: But I figured things were growing between us.

{0}_HAPPY: I think it’s best to be honest with each other.

{0}_IDLE: We’re fresh and new, don’t feel like you owe me anything.

{0}_IDLE: But I figure the best way to start a relationship is with honesty, right?

{0}_IDLE: With our history, I feel like we need to get it all out there.

{0}_IDLE: With our history, I feel like we need to get it all out there.

{0}_IDLE: I know we’re not an actual couple yet, don’t feel like you owe me anything.

{0}_IDLE: But I figure the best way to start a relationship is with honesty, right?

{0}_HAPPY: Then we can build something beautiful.

PLAYER_IDLE: I guess I should explain what happened then.

Tell {0} apologetically

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Ok, here’s how it went down.

PLAYER_IDLE: {0} pulled me aside, right before the dumping.

PLAYER_IDLE: He said it wasn’t really about Uma…

PLAYER_IDLE: It totally was though.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: For a chat that wasn’t supposed to be about her…

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: He name dropped her constantly.

{0}_IDLE: Because he really likes her.

PLAYER_IDLE: Exactly!

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: That’s how I could tell that he was pretty torn up about all the drama between them.

PLAYER_IDLE: Then he kinda switched things up on me.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Uh-oh.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: I wasn’t expecting it really.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: He got a bit flirty.

PLAYER_IDLE: Said he’d always had a thing for me…

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Really?! That’s wild.

{0}_SAD: I wouldn’t expect that from Alex, honestly.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: He’s such a stand-up guy.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Maybe I should’ve expected that from Bryson.

{0}_IDLE: He’s the flirty one.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Well, I don’t know him too well.

{0}_IDLE: I guess the guy owes me nothing.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I wish I knew him enough to be angry.

{0}_IDLE: But I guess that guy owes me nothing.

Tell {0} nonchalantly

PLAYER_IDLE: It really wasn’t a big deal.

{0}_IDLE: I’d still like to know.

PLAYER_IDLE: Sure, whatever.

PLAYER_IDLE: Long story short, {0} pulled me before the dumping.

PLAYER_IDLE: He went on and on about Uma.

PLAYER_IDLE: Then tried to get his flirt on with yours truly.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Oh…

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Did you flirt back?

PLAYER_IDLE: I mean…

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I did, a little bit.

PLAYER_IDLE: Yah, I did. Just a bit.

PLAYER_IDLE: And that’s when {0} saw us.

{0}_SAD: So she was telling the truth.

{0}_SAD: Why were you flirting though?

I was flattered

PLAYER_IDLE: It was flattering, we were having fun.

PLAYER_HAPPY: It was nice to have someone put in the graft.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I guess I can’t argue with that.

{0}_IDLE: I wouldn’t ever want to stop you having a good time.

{0}_FLIRTY: I guess I just want to be the one to flirt with you.

{0}_FLIRTY: I suppose I better up my game.

I don’t know

PLAYER_IDLE: Yeah, I’m not sure why.

PLAYER_IDLE: Still wondering myself, if I’m honest.

{0}_IDLE: That makes me feel better, kind of.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I just didn’t want to lose you.

It was a spur of the moment thing

PLAYER_IDLE: I think it was just an impulsive thing.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Flirting is fun.

PLAYER_IDLE: It didn’t mean a thing.

{0}_FLIRTY: Well, I’m sure I can flirt rings around him.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Oh can you now?

{0}_FLIRTY: Maybe I can flirt rings around you too.

{0}_HAPPY: Whilst it stings to hear, it doesn’t change things for me.

PLAYER_IDLE: What do you mean?

{0}_HAPPY: I love spending time with you, {1}.

{0}_IDLE: I regret not having this chat sooner.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: No! I didn’t do anything.

{0}_HAPPY: That’s great to hear. I didn’t think you would have.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Then stuff got really awkward.

PLAYER_IDLE: That’s when {0} saw us.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: And started spreading all these vague rumours.

{0}_SAD: I’m so sorry.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I shouldn’t have let her get in my head.

{0}_IDLE: Especially after everything she’s done in the past.

{0}_SAD: I didn’t want to cause any more drama.

{0}_IDLE: So I was laying low for a while.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Wrong decision.

{0}_IDLE: I love being around you so much.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: But, I do owe you a proper explanation. For how I acted.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Sleeping outside last night, and not explaining earlier today.

{0}_IDLE: I guess I’ve always known that you’re in a league of your own.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: You could have anyone you wanted.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Really?

{0}_FLIRTY: Absolutely. And I’m not complaining, obviously.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’ve always felt super lucky to even get a chance with you.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: But part of me has always worried that you’d realise that.

PLAYER_IDLE: Realise what?

{0}_FLIRTY: That you’re a ten out of ten worldie.

{0}_HAPPY: And I’m a nine at best.

{0} laughs, but you can sense the emotion and truth behind the words.

{0}_FLIRTY: Like I say, you could have anyone you wanted.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’m still on cloud nine that I’m getting this time with you.

{0}_IDLE: And cards on the table, full honesty time?

PLAYER_HAPPY: Full honesty.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’m starting to catch feelings for you. Like I haven’t for a long time.

{0}_IDLE: And it kinda scares me.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Scares you? Why?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I had a wobble last night anyway.

{0}_SAD: Stressing how much it would hurt if you didn’t feel the same way.

{0}_SAD: What if you lost interest in me?

{0}_SAD: What if you met someone you felt a better connection with?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: What if I fell for you even harder and you broke my heart?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: I guess I was doubting myself.

{0}_IDLE: And I was scared by how good this is.

{0}_IDLE: How good we are.

{0}_SAD: And that’s when {1} said you and {2} had gotten closer.

{0}_SAD: And my head went to all the worst case scenarios.

{0}_SAD: And even though I trusted you. Trusted what we have.

{0}_SAD: I knew you wouldn’t have flirted with him.

{0}_SAD: I realised how much it would hurt if you did move on from me.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: If you did realise just how out of my league you are.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: So I tried to get some distance. To think it through.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Check that I was ready to open myself up to potentially being hurt.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: And are you?

{0}_HAPPY: I’m so ready for everything with you!

{0}_HAPPY: I know what we have together, and I’m not scared anymore.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m ready to face things head on.

{0}_FLIRTY: Lay it all on the line for you.

{0}_FLIRTY: And I just hope you feel the same way.

{0}_FLIRTY: So, where do we go from here?

Make a romantic gesture like Travis suggested

You think back to the advice Travis gave you, to be spontaneous and romantic.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I’m glad you asked. I actually wanted to lay my heart on the line.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Make a romantic gesture to show you how serious I am about us.

{0} shifts a little on their feet, intrigued.

{0}_SURPRISED: For real?

{0}_HAPPY: You wanna make a romantic gesture for me?

PLAYER_HAPPY: Yeah, why is that so surprising?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Well, no one has ever done that kind of thing for me.

{0}_IDLE: Sounds really nice actually.

{0} looks at you with wide eyes as you clear your throat and prepare your romantic gesture.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: So, what I wanted to say was...

Make a poetic and heartfelt speech

PLAYER_IDLE: {0}. This is a name that meant nothing to me a few weeks ago.

PLAYER_IDLE: Which is strange because now it means so much.

PLAYER_IDLE: It means warmth. And a sense of belonging.

PLAYER_IDLE: It means a smile when I get into bed and a cuddle when I wake up.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: It means a shoulder to lean on and a friend to rely on.

You stop and look into {0}’s eyes. You’re both unable to hide your smiles.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: For a while today, I felt like I’d almost lost you.

PLAYER_SAD: I thought maybe {0} was a name that would disappear from life.

PLAYER_SAD: Almost as quickly as it arrived.

Make a fun and jokey speech

PLAYER_IDLE: I came to this villa looking for a responsible, fun and sexy partner.

PLAYER_IDLE: So I’ve already failed on that front, obviously.

PLAYER_HAPPY: But maybe there’s something to be said for you, {0}.

PLAYER_HAPPY: If today and yesterday have taught me anything.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: It’s that, when we’re apart, it doesn’t quite feel right.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Like when you make a sandwich in a hurry and forget to butter the inside.

{0} laughs along as you keep going.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: And I think I deserve butter on the inside of my sandwich.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I think I deserve someone who makes me smile.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Who makes me excited to see them each day.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Maybe not someone who infuriates me at times... But we can work on that.

You take a step closer to {0}, holding intense eye contact.

You’re both unable to hide your smiles.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: So all jokes aside, I want you to know something.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Today, I thought I might have genuinely lost you.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: And it was the worst feeling, {0}.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I’ve spent all morning running around the villa trying to find you so I can explain.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: That I want to see where things go with you.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: And I’m willing to fight for that.

{0} gives you a round of applause, cheeks blushing red.

{0}_FLIRTY: That genuinely got me. Wow.

Write a romantic letter like Evan suggested

You think back to the advice Evan gave you, to write {0} a heartfelt letter.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I’m glad you asked. I was actually on my way to write you a letter.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I wanted to write you something sweet and romantic.

{0} shifts a little on their feet, intrigued.

{0}_HAPPY: For real?

{0}_HAPPY: You wanted to write a letter for me?

PLAYER_HAPPY: Yeah, why is that so surprising?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Well, no one has ever done that kind of thing for me.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Except for my family. It’s a really nice idea.

{0} looks at you with wide eyes.

{0}_FLIRTY: Well, why don’t you tell me what would be on the letter?

{0}_FLIRTY: I’ll close my eyes and pretend you’re reading it to me.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Sounds like a plan.

You clear your throat ready to read your imaginary letter as {0} closes their eyes.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Dear, {0}. I’m writing this letter to say...

Make the letter poetic and heartfelt

PLAYER_IDLE: A few weeks ago the name {0} meant nothing to me.

PLAYER_IDLE: Which is strange because now it means so much.

PLAYER_IDLE: It means warmth. And a sense of belonging.

PLAYER_IDLE: It means a smile when I get into bed and a cuddle when I wake up.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: It means a shoulder to lean on and a friend to rely on.

You hear {0} breathing excitedly, eagerly awaiting your next words.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: For a while today, I felt like I’d almost lost you.

PLAYER_SAD: I thought maybe {0} was a name that would disappear from life.

PLAYER_SAD: Almost as quickly as it arrived.

Make the letter fun and jokey

PLAYER_IDLE: I came to this villa looking for a responsible, fun and sexy partner.

PLAYER_IDLE: So I’ve already failed on that front.

PLAYER_HAPPY: But maybe there’s something to be said for you, {0}.

PLAYER_HAPPY: If today and yesterday have taught me anything.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: It’s that, when we’re apart, it doesn’t quite feel right.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Like when you make a sandwich in a hurry and forget to butter the inside.

{0} laughs along as you keep going.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: And I think I deserve butter on the inside of my sandwich.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I think I deserve someone who makes me smile. Who makes me excited to see them each day.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Maybe not someone who infuriates me at times... But we can work on that.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: So all jokes aside, I want you to know something.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Today, I thought I might have lost you.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: And it was the worst feeling, {0}.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I’ve spent all morning running around the villa trying to find you so I can explain.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: That as sure as the ink on this page is black.

PLAYER_HAPPY: I am sure that I want to make this work.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: And I’m willing to fight for you.

PLAYER_HAPPY: P.S. Don’t run off again.

PLAYER_HAPPY: P.S. I’ll write you an actual letter as soon as I find some paper.

{0} gives you a round of applause. Their cheeks blushing red.

{0}_FLIRTY: That genuinely got me. You should be an author.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Glad you enjoyed it.

Propose a couples workout like {0} suggested

You think back to the advice {0} gave you, to propose a hot workout.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I was actually gonna propose that we have a couples workout together.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: I think it would be great fun.

{0}_HAPPY: Shut the door! I’ve literally always wanted to do that!

{0}_HAPPY: Just never had a partner who was up for it.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: You’re looking at a partner who’s up for it.

{0} beams at you.

{0}_HAPPY: If you’re serious about this, I’ve always wanted to do Acroyoga.

{0}_HAPPY: It’s this acrobatic form of yoga…

{0}_HAPPY: Where two people balance on each other in various positions.

{0}_HAPPY: This guy with a manbun is always doing it with a girl in my local park.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Well, why don’t we give it a shot?

{0} takes a look around before lying down on their back.

{0}_HAPPY: There’s enough space here I reckon.

{0}_HAPPY: Right, very slowly, put your hips on my feet and your hands on mine…

You slowly lower yourself onto {0}’s hands and feet.

They hold you in the air so you feel like you’re floating.

{0}_HAPPY: Now, I’m going to spin you. Ready?

PLAYER_HAPPY: I guess?

You have to tense your core as {0} spins you around with impressive strength.

Then they flip you back around so you’re facing each other.

You see {0}’s beaming smile.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Having fun?

{0}_HAPPY: I am! Your core strength is unbelievable!

{0}_FLIRTY: Think you can go for another flip?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Only one way to find out.

{0} gets their sweat on as they flip you not once but twice! Catching you in the air with their hands and feet.

They go for one more but slip and you fall into their arms on the floor.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Whoops! Looks like we need some more practice.

PLAYER_HAPPY: You sure you didn’t drop me on purpose?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: So we could have a cuddle on the floor?

{0}_FLIRTY: Maybe…

{0}_FLIRTY: Feels good to have you in my arms again.

{0}_HAPPY: Thanks for doing this with me.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Anytime.

Make {0} jealous like {1} suggested

You think back to the advice {0} gave you, to make {1} jealous and up their grafting.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: If you ask me you’ve got some grafting to catch up on.

{0}_SURPRISED: What do you mean?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: While you were playing hide and seek and avoiding me…

PLAYER_FLIRTY: The others were getting their graft on with me.

{0}_SURPRISED: The others have been flirting with you?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Yep. We are on Love Island, remember!

PLAYER_HAPPY: Let me tell you, they really upped their game.

PLAYER_IDLE: You’ve got a lot to live up to now.

{0}_FLIRTY: I hear you loud and clear, {1}.

{0}_HAPPY: Just let me get my grafting boots on.

{0} mimes slipping on some boots.

They strut over to you, looking deep into your eyes.

{0}_FLIRTY: A girl like you deserves someone who will go the extra mile.

{0}_FLIRTY: From now on I’m not going anywhere.

{0}_FLIRTY: Maybe I didn’t realise just how lucky I am before.

{0}_FLIRTY: To be with someone as funny, intelligent and gorgeous as you.

{0}_FLIRTY: But I won’t be making that mistake again.

{0}_FLIRTY: So let the others flirt, but I’m going to fight for us.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: That’s more like it.

Be mysterious like {0} suggested

You think back to the advice {0} gave you, to be mysterious and keep {1} on their toes.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: That’s for me to know and you to find out.

{0}_SURPRISED: And how do I find out?

PLAYER_HAPPY: You should know that by now.

{0}_FLIRTY: What would you like me to do?

{0}_HAPPY: Get my graft on? Give you some space?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Both.

{0}_HAPPY: How am I supposed to know?

PLAYER_FLIRTY: You just have to know.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: If you want to be with me, you’re going to have to keep on your toes.

{0}_FLIRTY: So mysterious. I don’t know what to think! I love it…

Kiss {0}

You lean in and give {0} a quick smooch.

They blush with pleasant surprise.

{0}_FLIRTY: Now I’m even more confused.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: You’ll figure it out.

{0}_HAPPY: I hope so.

Squeeze their cheek

You gently reach over and pinch {0}’s cheek playfully.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: You’ll figure it out.

{0}_HAPPY: I hope so.

Say nothing

You stare into their eyes and say nothing with a flirtatious intensity.

{0}_HAPPY: I have no idea what’s going on but I’m obsessed with it.

You continue to stare, not saying a word.

Ignore their advice

PLAYER_IDLE: Erm, well.

{0}_IDLE: What are you thinking?

If Uma and {0} can do it, we can…

PLAYER_IDLE: If Uma and {0} can get back on track…

PLAYER_HAPPY: I feel like we should be fine.

{0}_IDLE: You’re so right. We can totally do this.

{0}_IDLE: I’m ready to put in the effort, for you.

Let’s focus on us

PLAYER_IDLE: We should focus on us.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Plain and simple, no more obstacles, no more misunderstandings.

{0}_HAPPY: I like that idea.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m all in with you, {1}.

I’m not too sure

PLAYER_IDLE: I don’t want to make all the decisions.

PLAYER_IDLE: What do you think?

{0}_IDLE: I think we’ve got something too special to let something like this ruin it.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m all in with you. I want you to know that.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Ok. I guess we will see how it goes!

{0}_HAPPY: Let’s put this in the past and see where the summer takes us.

If Uma and {0} can do it, we can…

PLAYER_IDLE: If Uma and {0} can get back on track…

PLAYER_HAPPY: I feel like we should be fine.

{0}_IDLE: You’re so right. We can totally do this.

{0}_IDLE: I’m ready to put in the effort, for you.

Let’s focus on us!

PLAYER_IDLE: We should focus on us.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Plain and simple, no more obstacles, no more misunderstandings.

{0}_HAPPY: I like that idea.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m all in with you, {1}.

I’m not too sure

PLAYER_IDLE: I don’t want to make all the decisions.

PLAYER_IDLE: What do you think?

{0}_IDLE: I think we’ve got something too special to let something like this ruin it.

{0}_HAPPY: I’m all in with you.

{0}_HAPPY: Let’s put all of this in the past.

Your phone pings, snapping you and {0} out of the moment.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Oh, I’ve got a text.

{0}_FLIRTY: Read it out!

LITEXT: Islanders, it’s time to get ready for your next couples challenge, prepare to get messy in Piece of Cake! {0}FrostyOrSweet {1}BringThatCake

{0}’s face falls.

{0}_SAD: A couples challenge, gutted.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Why? Think of the cake!

{0}_FLIRTY: Oh trust me, that’s all I can think about right now.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: But I’m gonna have to watch you and Travis, remember?

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Oh, yeah.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: But I’m gonna have to watch you and Vicky, remember?

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Oh, yeah.

{0}_IDLE: I’ll just have to be a gent.

{0}_FLIRTY: But I’ll be missing you.

{0}_FLIRTY: Being a good boy isn’t my strong suit.

{0}_FLIRTY: I can’t promise I won’t swoop in mid-challenge.

{0}_FLIRTY: We can just catch eyes across the cake…

{0}_IDLE: Can’t promise I won’t create a little cakey chaos.

{0}_FLIRTY: Just so I can make you laugh.

{0}’s face falls.

{0}_SAD: Couples challenge? Gutted.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Why? Think of the cake!

{0}_FLIRTY: Oh trust me, that’s all I can think about right now.

{0}_SAD: I’m gonna have to watch you get all cakey with Vicky.

{0}_FLIRTY: Maybe I can sneak in and distract her with some sprinkles…

{0}_HAPPY: Then I can whisk you away, <i>whisk</i>.

{0}_HAPPY: Get it?

PLAYER_HAPPY: Oh, wow. That was bad.

{0}’s face falls.

{0}_SAD: A couples challenge? Gutted.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Why? Think of the cake!

{0}_FLIRTY: Oh trust me, that’s all I can think about right now.

{0}_IDLE: I’m gonna have to watch you get covered in buttercream with ol’ Travis.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’ll just have to dazzle you with my cake decoration skills.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’m an artist after all.

{0}_FLIRTY: This challenge is gonna be hot.

PLAYER_HAPPY: If you say so. Aren’t we about to get covered in cake?

{0}_IDLE: I hope so! Or maybe we’ll just be decorating.

{0}_FLIRTY: Either way, I wanna see you with that cute look of concentration on your face.

{0}_FLIRTY: Then I’ll dab a bit of frosting on your nose.

{0}_FLIRTY: I think this challenge will be hot.

PLAYER_HAPPY: If you say so. Aren’t we about to get covered in cake?

{0}_FLIRTY: Cake is my favourite.

The side of his mouth curls into a little smirk.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’m sure we’ll make the best one.

UMA_HAPPY: Was that a text?

PLAYER_HAPPY: Come and read it!

The others rush over to read it.

UMA_HAPPY: A cake challenge!

{0}_HAPPY: It says prepare to get messy?

UMA_HAPPY: Even if I’m getting covered in cake I still want to look good.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Always.

UMA_HAPPY: Dressing room time, girls!

UMA_EMBARRASSED: I really hope this won’t be too messy.

BONNIE_HAPPY: Literally or figuratively?

UMA_SURPRISED: I meant literally, but actually… Both.

{0}_IDLE: Same.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Feels like I’ve caused enough drama recently.

She glances over at you.

That’s putting it lightly

PLAYER_IDLE: You’ve definitely been scattering that drama left, right and centre.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: You really have a way with words, {1}.

{0}_IDLE: But yeah, I won’t deny it.

Let’s forget it for now

PLAYER_IDLE: We’ve got other stuff to focus on, we don’t need to be bringing it up.

PLAYER_HAPPY: It’s challenge time! That’s what I’m thinking about.

{0}_HAPPY: Yes! May the best girl win.

{0}_FLIRTY: And by that I mean best baker or decorator, or whatever.

We both bring the drama

PLAYER_IDLE: The drama does seem to follow both of us.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: But would it even be Love Island without a sprinkling of drama?

{0}_IDLE: Ooh. Couldn’t have summed it up better.

UMA_HAPPY: I feel like we should touch base on where we’re at in our couples.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: It’s been a bit all over the place recently.

BONNIE_IDLE: Yeah, feels messy already!

UMA_SAD: The double dumping really put things into perspective for me.

Uma turns to you and Bonnie.

UMA_HAPPY: I wanted to thank you both again.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: For helping me and {0} figure things out.

UMA_IDLE: You’re both the best girls I could ask for in here.

Uma turns to you and Summer.

UMA_HAPPY: I wanted to thank you both again.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: For helping me and {0} figure things out.

UMA_IDLE: You’re both the best girls I could ask for in here.

Uma turns to you and Daphne.

UMA_HAPPY: I wanted to thank you both again.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: For helping me and {0} figure things out.

UMA_IDLE: You’re both the best girls I could ask for here.

UMA_HAPPY: I’m committed to making it work.

UMA_IDLE: No more making each other jealous.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: No more dragging other people into our mess.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: Thank goodness.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: I’m not good at all that.

UMA_IDLE: You girls know me.

UMA_IDLE: I just want to be direct, and I want someone to be direct with me.

VICKY_IDLE: You really like the guy, don’t you?

UMA_IDLE: I do. So I’ll stop being stubborn about it.

Cuties!

PLAYER_HAPPY: Aww, you’ve got it bad, girl.

PLAYER_IDLE: Every relationship has bumps.

PLAYER_HAPPY: It’s how you get through it that matters.

Be careful…

PLAYER_IDLE: Just looking out for you.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: I don’t want to remind you…

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: But if he’ll flirt with me, maybe he’s not closed-off.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: I know.

UMA_SAD: But I did start all that drama.

BONNIE_IDLE: Well, me and {0} are very much friend vibes at the moment.

BONNIE_HAPPY: But that’s ok. We’ll have a ball in the challenge.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: Without the added pressure of being a couple.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: We’ll just watch all of you and judge quietly.

VICKY_FLIRTY: Keep your eyes on me and Evan then, we’ll school ya.

VICKY_HAPPY: If it’s cake decoration, we’ll ace it.

BONNIE_HAPPY: Ooh, I’ve got no doubt.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: Be a shame if someone sabotaged you though, eh?

VICKY_SURPRISED: You wouldn’t dare!

PLAYER_HAPPY: Fighting talk.

UMA_IDLE: How are you and Evan doing though?

VICKY_IDLE: Hmm, it’s a slow burn, which I don’t mind…

VICKY_IDLE: But I can’ help feeling like he’s not all in.

Her eyes flick over to you.

VICKY_IDLE: And that’s totally cool, he’s a lovely guy.

VICKY_IDLE: I’m not necessarily feeling the romance either.

VICKY_HAPPY: I’m happy to just see how things play out.

Uma grins at you.

UMA_HAPPY: You and Travis are a dream team though, {0}.

UMA_FLIRTY: I bet you’ll smash the challenge.

Yeah, get ready to watch us win

PLAYER_FLIRTY: We’re definitely a dream team.

PLAYER_HAPPY: We’ll leave you all in our dust.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Or should I say icing sugar…

UMA_HAPPY: Ooh, that’s gonna make me sneeze!

UMA_FLIRTY: Love the confidence though.

We’ll just have to see

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m not sure how we’ll work together as a team.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Especially with cake involved.

UMA_HAPPY: I think you’ll be fine.

UMA_IDLE: How are you feeling though, {0}?

UMA_IDLE: Travis isn’t really your one is he?

UMA_IDLE: Doesn’t mean you can’t smash the challenge though!

{0}_IDLE: Weaker couples never do.

I wish I were doing it with somebody else

PLAYER_IDLE: Yeah, I can’t lie.

PLAYER_IDLE: Travis wouldn’t be my first choice to do these challenges with.

UMA_IDLE: Your time will definitely come, {0}.

UMA_HAPPY: I can feel it.

Who you calling weak?!

PLAYER_IDLE: Weak? Focus on your own couple maybe.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: At least Travis is actually into me…

{0}_IDLE: I didn’t mean it like that. We’re doing it again.

PLAYER_IDLE: Doing what?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Beefing. Sorry!

We’ll smash it anyway

PLAYER_HAPPY: Yeah, we still make a great team.

PLAYER_HAPPY: We’ll leave you all in our dust.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Or should I say icing sugar…

UMA_HAPPY: Ooh, that’s gonna make me sneeze!

UMA_FLIRTY: Love the confidence though.

BONNIE_IDLE: Well, me and Travis are very much friend vibes at the moment.

BONNIE_HAPPY: But that’s ok. We’ll have a ball in the challenge.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: Without the added pressure of being a couple.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: We’ll just watch all of you and judge quietly.

SUMMER_FLIRTY: Keep your eyes on me and Joyo then, we’ll school ya.

SUMMER_HAPPY: We’ll bring those sexy baker vibes.

BONNIE_HAPPY: Ooh, I’ve got no doubt.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: Be a shame if someone sabotaged you though, eh?

SUMMER_SURPRISED: You wouldn’t dare!

PLAYER_HAPPY: Fighting talk.

UMA_IDLE: How are you and Joyo doing though?

SUMMER_IDLE: Electric chemistry as per.

SUMMER_IDLE: But I genuinely think there could be something more.

SUMMER_EMBARRASSED: That’s why it hurt when I thought you and him were having a thing.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: Don’t think twice about that, it was such nothingness.

DAPHNE_FLIRTY: Keep your eyes on me and Raf then, we’ll school ya.

DAPHNE_HAPPY: We’ll ace it. Especially if it’s decoration related.

DAPHNE_HAPPY: I literally decorate people’s faces for my job.

BONNIE_HAPPY: Ooh, I’ve got no doubt.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: Be a shame if someone sabotaged you though, eh?

DAPHNE_SURPRISED: You wouldn’t dare!

PLAYER_HAPPY: Fighting talk.

UMA_IDLE: How are you and Rafael doing though?

DAPHNE_IDLE: Hmm, we’re ok.

DAPHNE_IDLE: We’ve sort of hit a wall though, I’m not sure what else we have.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: I hope I didn’t cause that.

DAPHNE_IDLE: I don’t know, something just feels a bit off.

Uma grins at you and {0}.

UMA_HAPPY: At least we all know that you two are a dream team.

UMA_FLIRTY: I bet you’ll smash the challenge.

Yeah, get ready to watch us win

PLAYER_FLIRTY: We’re definitely a dream team.

{0}_HAPPY: Oh yes, preach.

PLAYER_HAPPY: We’ll leave you all in our dust.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Or should I say icing sugar…

UMA_HAPPY: Ooh, that’s gonna make me sneeze!

UMA_FLIRTY: Love the confidence though.

We’ll just have to see

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m not sure how we’ll work together as a team.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Especially with cake involved.

{0}_HAPPY: We’ll do great, as long as we listen to each other.

UMA_HAPPY: I think you’ll be fine.

UMA_IDLE: How are you two feeling though, {0}, Vicky?

{0}_IDLE: You’re not really a strong couple right now, are you?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: And weaker couples don’t normally win challenges.

We might struggle

PLAYER_IDLE: Yeah, I can’t lie.

You turn to Vicky.

PLAYER_IDLE: We might struggle a bit.

VICKY_EMBARRASSED: I sense that.

VICKY_IDLE: We can still have fun though.

Who you calling weak?!

PLAYER_IDLE: Weak? Focus on your own couple maybe.

PLAYER_EMBARRASSED: At least Vicky is actually into me…

{0}_IDLE: We’re doing it again!

PLAYER_IDLE: Doing what?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Beefing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.

We’ll smash it anyway

PLAYER_HAPPY: Yeah, we still make a great team.

PLAYER_HAPPY: We’ll leave you all in our dust.

VICKY_HAPPY: Yes, preach!

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Or should I say icing sugar…

{0}_IDLE: Good for you.

VICKY_HAPPY: What’s the update on you and {0} then, {1}?

{0} rolls her eyes dramatically.

{0}_IDLE: It seems his head is turned to someone else at the moment.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: That would be me.

UMA_IDLE: Think we figured that one.

{0}_IDLE: But yeah, I think we’ll be fine. In the long run.

{0}_FLIRTY: He’s still got time to change his mind.

{0}_IDLE: Well, his head was with someone else.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: That would be me.

{0}_FLIRTY: No way! Really?

PLAYER_IDLE: My sarcasm detector just went off.

{0}_IDLE: But now, I’m not sure.

{0}_IDLE: It definitely feels like I’m putting in more work than he is.

{0}_IDLE: It’s whatever though. We’ll be fine.

{0}_FLIRTY: He’s still got time to swivel his head back round to me.

UMA_HAPPY: I think this challenge could go any way really.

UMA_IDLE: Maybe it’ll make some couples…

{0}_IDLE: And break others?

UMA_EMBARRASSED: Erm, even I wasn’t going to be that blunt, but yeah.

UMA_SURPRISED: Ooh, {0}, you’re not dressed yet!

UMA_HAPPY: Show us your look!

PLAYER_HAPPY: What about this?

VICKY_HAPPY: Actually glorious.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: That’s perfect.

{0}_IDLE: You look so good. Respectfully, I hope you get cake on you.

PLAYER_IDLE: This one is good.

UMA_IDLE: Is it because you’re worried about getting cake on your outfit?

UMA_HAPPY: Don’t! Let’s go all out.

SUMMER_FLIRTY: Yeah! Who cares, clothes can be washed.

DAPHNE_IDLE: Yeah! Who cares, clothes can be washed.

{0}_HAPPY: We have to look better than our cakes, that’s a rule.

Let me see again

PLAYER_HAPPY: How about this?

VICKY_HAPPY: Actually glorious.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: That’s perfect.

{0}_IDLE: You look so good. Respectfully, I hope you get cake on you.

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m sticking with this one.

UMA_HAPPY: Nice.

I’m sticking with this

PLAYER_IDLE: I’m sticking with this one.

UMA_HAPPY: Nice.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Challenge time, girls?

You all head downstairs and out towards the challenge stage.

The boys are already waiting for you on the challenge stage.

You look out and see that there are enough tables for each couple to work from.

There is also another large table laden with layers of freshly-made cake, frosting bags and decorative supplies.

{0}_HAPPY: Girls! Phew…

{0}_HAPPY: I was about 0.2 seconds away from consuming that entire table of cake.

BONNIE_SURPRISED: Dude, I know you’re into your carpentry but please.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: Eating tables is too far.

{0}_IDLE: Funny, funny.

{0}_HAPPY: I’d say you could be a comedian but you’re too <i>wooden</i>.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: Oh dear.

BONNIE_SURPRISED: Dude, I thought wood was Alex’s thing.

BONNIE_FLIRTY: Eating tables is an issue.

{0}_HAPPY: Ooh, she’s bringing the banter already? That’s my job.

{0}_HAPPY: I’d say you could be a comedian but you’re too <i>wooden</i>.

UMA_EMBARRASSED: Oh dear.

PLAYER_HAPPY: So what do we have to do?

{0}’s phone pings.

PLAYER_HAPPY: Right on cue!

{0}_HAPPY: Lemme read it out.

LITEXT: Islanders, it’s time to couple up and start constructing and decorating your very own wedding cake…

PLAYER_SURPRISED: Wedding?!

{0} continues reading.

LITEXT: Whoever completes the cake in the fastest time with the best decoration and teamwork, wins. {0}HereComesTheWinner {1}CakeChaos

SUMMER_HAPPY: You hear that, Joyo??

SUMMER_FLIRTY: We’re getting married!

JOYO_FLIRTY: You would look gorgeous in a wedding dress, to be fair.

RAFAEL_HAPPY: Well, I do wanna be married before I’m 30!

RAFAEL_FLIRTY: What do you say, Daph?

DAPHNE_HAPPY: I say, aww.

DAPHNE_EMBARRASSED: And also, no. Too soon!

SUMMER_HAPPY: You hear that, Joyo??

SUMMER_FLIRTY: We’re getting married!

JOYO_FLIRTY: You would look gorgeous in a wedding dress, to be fair.

RAFAEL_HAPPY: Well, I do wanna be married before I’m 30!

RAFAEL_FLIRTY: What do you say, Daph?

DAPHNE_HAPPY: I say, aww.

DAPHNE_EMBARRASSED: And also, no. Too soon!

{0}_FLIRTY: Building a wedding cake with you, already…

{0}_HAPPY: I’m pretty excited!

PLAYER_HAPPY: Oh, interesting to know.

You and {0} stand behind one of the tables, the rest of the couples follow suit.

{0} quickly pulls you aside.

{0}_IDLE: {1}, I don’t wanna watch you do this challenge without me.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’ve just got to take the leap and ask you to bend the rules a little.

{0}_IDLE: I’m sure {1} understands?

{0}_EMBARRASSED: It’s up to {1}. She knows that.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: What about {0}?

{0}_HAPPY: She can go with {1}.

{0}_EMBARRASSED: Urgh, whatever. I guess I owe you one, {1}.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: What about {0}?

{0}_HAPPY: He can go with {1}.

PLAYER_SURPRISED: What about Vicky?

{0}_HAPPY: She can go with {1}.

{0}_HAPPY: The only names I want to see on a wedding cake are {1} and {2}.

{0}_HAPPY: Would you join me for the challenge?

*Yes!

PLAYER_HAPPY: There’s nobody I’d rather build a wedding cake with.

{0}_HAPPY: My thoughts exactly.

{0}_FLIRTY: I won’t be able to focus though. My eyes will be stuck on you.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Maybe this isn’t such a good idea…

{0}_FLIRTY: It’s the best idea I’ve had so far.

No

PLAYER_IDLE: I don’t think that would be wise.

PLAYER_IDLE: I should probably stick with {0}.

{0}_FLIRTY: You don’t have to though, {1}.

{0}_HAPPY: I wanna be building a wedding cake with the person I see a future with.

{0}_FLIRTY: And that person is you.

{0}_HAPPY: After everything we’ve been through today it would mean a lot to me.

{0}_FLIRTY: So, do you wanna do the challenge with me?

*Ok, let’s do it!

PLAYER_HAPPY: There’s nobody I’d rather build a wedding cake with.

{0}_HAPPY: My thoughts exactly.

{0}_FLIRTY: I won’t be able to focus though. My eyes will be stuck on you.

PLAYER_FLIRTY: Maybe this isn’t such a good idea…

{0}_FLIRTY: It’s the best idea I’ve had so far.

No, not a good plan

PLAYER_IDLE: No, I don’t think it’s a good idea this time.

{0}_IDLE: Aww, ok.

{0}_FLIRTY: I’ll just have to eye flirt with you from over my cake tower.

You and {0} stand behind one of the tables, the rest of the couples follow suit.

[aliceward]

Mean to Dream About Parking

What Does it Mean to Dream About Parking?

Have you had any parking-related dreams? Dreams about parking your car often represent the urge to settle down. In the dream, pay attention to when and why you’re parking. Parking-related dreams can be interpreted in various ways depending on your emotions and the setting of the circumstances. The most typical scenarios are shown below.

Mean to Dream About Parking

Dream about different parking locations

Dream about parking lots

Finding a parking place in a vast parking lot can be compared to looking for your place in life. Perhaps you’ve reached crossroads in your life, such as a career shift or a new area to reside in. If the parking lot is empty and you have a lot of options, it means that you have a lot of options to select from when it comes to making the greatest decision for your needs.

Dream about a parking garage

Consider the direction that you’re traveling on the parking ramps if you’re dreaming about parking in an underground parking garage or basement. If you had taken a different course in life, they might be able to relate to your wishes.

Parking yellow loading zones

If you have dreams about parking in a yellow loading zone, it means that your current job or lifestyle is only temporary. The dream instructs you to complete your business and proceed to the next stage of your life. You won’t be able to stay put for very long. The moment may have come to decide to relocate and change your life. If you do not make the modifications yourself, you may be forced to do so.

Dream about parking fire lane or a No-Parking zone

If you have a dream involving parking in locations where you shouldn’t, such as a fire lane or a no-parking zone, it means you’re sticking your head where you don’t belong. You can end up in trouble and have an impact on other people’s businesses.

Dream about different parking contexts

Dream about parking meters

A parking meter clock in your dream represents your hectic lifestyle and lack of time. As a result, you’re continually rushing from one place to the next. This has the potential to offend or harm anyone in your immediate vicinity. You may need to set a goal and allow enough time to do the chores you desire.

Dream about parking tickets

Having a parking violation and receiving a parking ticket in your dream indicates that you are being punished in real life. Depending on the reason for the parking ticket and how you received it in your dream, it may also reflect the situation in your waking life. For example, if you received a parking ticket in your dream due to negligence, it could indicate that you would be fined in real life for a negligent deed. Perhaps an overdue or forgotten utility bill.

Dream about parking permit or pass

Obtaining a parking permit or pass indicates that you are beginning to form an opinion about what you want to do with your life. However, you are unsure of how to travel to your desired location. You’re judging and assessing the course you’d like to take. The parking permit indicates that you have already spent time and money on your routes. However, you might be second-guessing yourself.

Dream about events with parking

Dream about a job as a parking attendant

Dreams about working as a parking attendant or valet indicate that someone in your life requires guidance on how to rest. Try to figure out what kind of autos you see in your dreams. Your goal is to connect with whatever that person is. It could also mean that you’re putting too much effort into assisting others rather than pursuing your objectives.

Dream about crashing during parking

Crashing while parking or having difficulties squeezing into a space denotes being stuck in a rut and restless. Maybe you’re in a precarious scenario where things could go wrong if you’re not careful. Your mind is associating your position with a bind. To avoid conflict, you must consider all angles.

Imagine having a garage at your home

To have a dream about parking at your garage’s house or apartment indicates that you have achieved your objectives. You’re happy with the way things are going in your life. It’s time to take a break and relax for a bit.

Imagine forgetting where you parked your car

If you have a dream about losing your automobile in a large parking lot maze and are unable to locate it. It means that you have lost your way in life. You have the impression that you are similar to the majority of people in your life. Perhaps you believe you can be easily replaced and have lost sight of who you are.

Parking Lot Dream Meanings

To dream of a parking lot illustrates your need to take some time out of your busy schedule and smell the roses so to speak.

This shows a need to break down and away from your every day routine and just take the car and go relax somewhere.

When you have a parking space available automatically to you in your dreams, this shows that you have provided yourself with the best kind of personal space that you can go and find comfort whenever you need to.

If you find that you have lost your parking space in a giant parking lot, this shows that you feel confused and frustrated with the multiple elements in your life.

If you find that you dream of others in your life who have lost their cars, this shows a level of judgment which causes you concern because their activities are not really suited for your life, but you nonetheless love them and want to care for them. So you try to counsel them through their life issues showing that you have a very positive character.

In this dream you may have

Fallen asleep in your car in the parking lot thus symbolizing your desire to relax and find comfort on your own.

Found yourself lost in a huge parking lot stuck without a car.

You and your lover made love in a parking lot thus symbolizing your fertile and romantic energy at the time of your dream.

Considered yourself free of fear within a magical parking lot which brought you ending joy.

Positive changes are afoot if

You found yourself lost in a huge parking lot stuck without a car so you decided to roll with it and take a brisk walk around instead.

You fell asleep in your car showing your ability to relax.

You became one of the more famous people in the parking lot because of your excellent taste in radio music.

You made love to your partner in the twilight in a parking lot.

Detailed dream meaning

When one is searching for their own parking lot, this symbolizes the need to attempt to find their own place in life which can still be difficult.

Parking lots are used as a place to find peace or relaxation from a busy schedule. This means that you are the type of person who needs to take the time to rejuvenate or clear ones mental blocks at this time in your life.

To have an accident in the parking lot indicates that You should try to exercise prudence and restraint in regards to driving over the next few days. Try to resist what will worry. If somebody steals your parking space then it is important to talk about your feelings. In essence, some people feel that you are ruled by your mind rather than your heart and so unless you are more open in life it can be difficult to progress yourself in relationships.

To break down in the parking lot is a sign of launching many projects. These might often be abandoned before their given chance to come into fruition.

When you are tired, ill or rundown the dream dreams of your car being stolen may enter your subconscious mind. Thus, If your car is stolen in the parking lot and this indicates you are worrying. Try to watch some Television or listen to some relaxing music.

This dream is in association with the following scenarios in your life

Romantic partnerships.

Feeling lost and overwhelmed in too many projects at once.

Needing a vacation.

Joyful forward motion in matters of business and love.

Feelings that you may have encountered during a dream of a parking lot

Comfort. Relaxation. Happiness. Silliness. Romance. Sexual energy. Clarity. Nurturing. Energetic vibrations. Hilarity. Laughter. Consciousness. Sacredness.

[cosmiclatte28]

Strike! (Jaehyun x reader)

a/n : okaay soo this was almost from a real story :)) i twisted and improvised something that happened to me :p not important though, but please enjoy this scenario!

warning : none, i think this is save for everyone.. except if you have bad memories with bowling...

characters : you, Jae, and his friends (Yu,Tae,Johnny)

tagging @yutahoes (since she knew what happened) and @neopalette anyone else wants to be tagged in my works tell me :)

enjoy!!

Spring is happening, the flowers are blooming, and the sun has been staying up longer! Everyone’s toasting under the heat and hoping that summer can just come now. You personally enjoy the heat rather than shivering in the cold winter wind. It’s just that you don’t really have anyone to enjoy this beautiful weather with. Just like any other day, you got down from your room to look for dinner. The sun is still up and you choose to just use one of your jacket and plop into your shoes before locking the door and walking nicely to look for food.

You turn on your earphone, playing on some light music so you feel less lonely. It’s just that you have friends but today you don’t feel like eating with them. You’ve been to two classes today and worked on some homework, you noticed it’s time for a “me time”. So, with the sun shining warmly and you enjoying your afternoon walk you smile when you notice how many couples are walking around the campus.

You’re jealous, you wont lie. Come on, who’s not jealous to see cute happy couples walking under the sun and with the blooming flowers things just look like a scene from a movie. You personally slow down to think of which dining hall to visit today. You choose to go to the west side and see what menu they offer.

You don’t see much student there which make you settle quickly on pasta and have them wrap it up to go. Now, with your boxed food, you walk happily to go back to your room only to pause when there’s a sport car filled with hot guys zooming through you.

You notice a lot of people have their eyes glued on the car, or maybe the guys in it. You don’t know them, but one of them seriously looks cute. You locked eyes for a second and you swore you love him at first sight.

“Woah, last time there were girls zooming around in their opened-cabriole cars and now guys too. Guess summer is really near.” You shrug your shoulder and continue to walk.

You pass by the car again but this time it is parked and the four guys are just chilling around their cars. Sipping on some cold energy drinks while giggling and tossing light smiles to the people passing by.

“Who are you looking at young boy?” The man behind the wheels earlier nudges the boy who has his eyes glued on you.

“Um no one-“ he stammers before turning away to look at his feet and feeling his ears burn.

“Oh I see, some freshman I guess-“ the guy with a Japanese accent teases the younger boy.

“Where? I wanna see too!” the smallest one between the three extends his neck to look around.

Their actions bring the crowd’s attention, and you realize you should keep walking. Why were you stopping in first place?

So, without much thought you continue to walk down your road while humming to your music.

“Stop staring,” the guy who’s looking at his feet finally speaks up.

“Why Jaehyun? You’re shy?” The tallest, Johnny aka guy behind wheel, pokes his cheek.

Jaehyun turns red “Nah, I don’t know her. She just passed by and I locked eyes with her.”

“Don’t worry, if Yuta saw her he will know her name.” Taeyong puts a hand over Yuta’s shoulder “Right Yuta?” he asks to clarify his statement.

Yuta nods “If only you justified if that was the girl you’re staring, I may have her name tomorrow.” Yuta plays with his phone.

Jaehyun sighs “Come on, this school is big… there’s no way you’ll get her name.” he hugs his three friends’ shoulders and sighs “Guess that will be the first and last time I see her.”

Johnny clicks his tongue “So dramatic. Duhh, I know how to see her.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen “How?”

Taeyong giggles “She went that way, there’s only three houses there. We can just hang around there and see her if she goes out of her building. It’s that simple Jae, don’t be so sad.” Taeyong pats his shoulder and jumps into the car.

“Come on, we have a bowling match tomorrow might want to practice a little bit before the game.” Taeyong calls his other friends into the car and once they’re all in, Johnny hits the road again with high speed to show off his car and the guys inside.

--

You finish your dinner and clean up your room already. In an hour or two, you’ll wrap up your task and readings then maybe take a rest because tomorrow is a big day. You got more classes to suffer and some dance class to attend.

Your mind flashes back the image of the cute guy seating in the back seat of the sports car earlier. His dimple, his carefree smile and his fluffy wind-blown hair looks perfect. Oh you really wish you can see him one more time.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in your major, man like him probably is an athlete or studies something related to business or sports.

“Come on come to your senses (y/n)! What are the odds he meet you again? Even if he sees you, he won’t notice or realize you’re there.” You try to burry your hope by reminding yourself boys like him belong to the pretty girls with long legs. Unlike you, totally you’re way out of his league.

That night you dream of a fortunate encounter with the mysterious guy and he gives you his name. Weird how you cannot remember his name at all when you wake up, but the day is running and you need to wake up and face reality. He is a prince charming and you’re no Cinderella.

--

“I told you, I can get her name by today.” Yuta proudly shows Jaehyun and the guys an Instagram profile.

“Wait whoah you really did.” Taeyong says after examining the profile picture because of the private account.

“How did you?” Jaehyun stops asking when his eyes accidentally spot you coming into the room.

“Am I seeing things or is she really here?” Jaehyun whispers to his friends and Johnny gives him a smack “Hurts? It’s real. I see her too.”

Yuta chuckles “Come on, I see her walking to this place and thought maybe she’s here this afternoon. So, I made a quick run through the participant list and look up one by one.”

“Thank you- but oh I am so fortunate to see her again.” Jaehyun is literally having his moment. If this is a drama he’d have romantic bgm and flower petals falling out of nowhere. But this is the bowling room in the campus and it’s far from romantic. Especially when the judge calls for the competitor to get ready.

“Good luck there bro, focus on the game not on the girl.” His friends tease him before leaving to sit in the spectator seat.

You tie your bowling shoes and pick out your own ball. Polishing it and feeling it with your hand before bumping into someone’s sturdy chest.

“Oh- sorry.” You mutter an apology before looking up and freezing in place when you lock eyes with the same man you’ve been dying to see again.

“You-“ he turns pink.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump you. Please don’t kill me.” You beg for him

He chuckles “I will not kill you, but if you want my apology…” he trails off and bends a little bit to see your face closer “Give me your name.”

You turn red now and you feel your face heat up “It’s (y/n)”

He smiles and reaches out his hand “Jaehyun, nice to meet you (y/n)” he shakes your hand and you grin. This is awkward…

“I saw you yesterday on the car. Nice car.” You whisper after both of you sit down to wait for your turns.

Jaehyun nods “Wasn’t my car sadly, but it’s my friend’s.” he points to the three guys enjoying pizza on the spectator bench. You only nod, his friends all look hot.

“So, bowling eh? Good at it?” you ask him when it’s almost his turn. Jaehyun stands up and wears his bowling glove “Good? I just pick this up as a new hobby and I join this to look for new friends.” He gets up to his lane and picks his ball before posing nicely and hits a strike.

You smirk, not bad. He has some talent.

Jaehyun returns after his turn is over and it’s yours now.

“What about you?” he asks

You sweetly smile “Watch and see,”

Jaehyhun notices how you change. Your posture is different, and your gaze definitely burns hole to the wall. He secretly has to control his heartbeat from going up when he sees you hit a strike.

You’re not a newbie, he notices that

“Great posture, accurate and precise.” Jaehyun offers a high-five and you take it.

“Well, thank you that came from years of practice. Pleasure to be your competitor tonight, I am (y/n) the school’s official bowling team leader.” You wink and Jaehyun feels his heart burst into million pieces.

How can you be so cute and so attractive at the same time? Plus what, you’re the bowling athlete team? Hot.

He sure is going to brag on you to his friends, but most importantly he’ll win your number first after the hot tight match. He’s glad Johnny forced him to sign up for this competition, and he’s glad he has the courage to talk with you.

“So, nice game and you’re really good.” Jaehyun nudges your shoulder when the game ends with you winning.

You grin “Oh yeah? Well, what do I get for winning?” you playfully tease him.

He knits his eyebrow for a while before grinning “Do you want my number? We can have lunch together or dinner someday.” He offers you his suggestion and you feel your cheek burns.

“Sure, yes I’d love that.” You gulp and type in your number to his phone.

“Okay, I’ll text you my number so you can save it.” He winks and turns his head around when his friends call him

“I got to go, do you want to go back to your dorm with us?” he offers you a ride but as much as you want to, you know not to accept rides from stranger easily.

You shake your head “I will go with them,” you point to a new group of friends living in the same building you just met earlier.

Jaehyun nods coolly “Okay, text me when you got home.” He points to your phone that lights up with a message from him.

You smile and wave your hand as you walk to the other friends “Bye Jaehyun! It was nice meeting you.”

Turns out yesterday was not the first and last time he sees you.

end

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

She’s thunderstorms

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Helena Craig) x M!OC (Clay Banner)

Words count: 2.5 k

Warning: 🔞 content/Language

Category: Angst/AU

A.N: Part two of A Triangle of Love Series. Events after the Sweet dreams, TN fic. Helen is the alter ego of Klaw Craig. Feel free to judge me because now that I’m re-reading it… it’s bullshit and I don’t know what to call this. Especially the song it’s not fitting duhhh. Going to log off after posting it. *sighs*

Song: “She’s thunderstorms” - Arctic Monkeys

MASTERLIST

———————————————————————

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms

Bryce Lahela was right.

She’s like a goddess that entered to this building and blessed my life when I made eye contact with her.

Indeed a blessing.

She was the most incredible woman and everyone would take a bow just for her hand and fulfill all the wishes she wanted.

He couldn’t feel his breath in that short moment when they exchanged looks. Did someone pause his heart and his body? Because surely he had multiple questions as his mind drifted into thoughts.

When did she come here? How did she find him? Where did she work before coming here? Is she alone? But if not, who was with her? The hair colour and style had changed too. From the straight dark brown with bangs had gone into long, wavy light ash blonde hair that seemed to make her a different person.

But her face was still like he left it. Her arched brows that made her confident; captivating eyes with determination; full and inviting lips that always gave him chills when she crooked them into a playful smirk; her strong and beautiful jaw that tilted whenever he teased her or touched with such delicacy that made her gasp into pleasure; her long neck… without his necklace. He almost scoffed. Of course she had taken it off. What was he expecting?

Their bodies pining in the wall in ecstasy and hearing her sounds...

I’ve been feeling foolish, you should try it

She came and substituted the peace and quiet for

Acrobatic blood, flow concertina

Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire

Everything.

He wanted to do everything.

Anytime and anywhere.

With her and only her.

When he saw her hand shaking with another one... he felt a pit into his stomach and a familiar feeling came into his brain.

Mine.

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms

Here is your host, sounds as if she’s pretty close

When the heat starts growing horns

She’s thunderstorms

That greatly but destructive feeling called jealousy was in his veins. He wanted to reach out and twirl her around and to whisper to her:

I’m sorry and I really missed you.

Instead he came with slow and confident steps as if his imagination vanished quickly without so noticing and a small professional smile appeared in his face and she seemed to understand it. One more reason why he loves her.

“Ah Clay here you are,” Simon spoke breaking his trip of memory lane. “I want to present you Dr. Helena Craig the surgeon who’s going to replace Edgar for a while. Helen this is Dr. Clay Banner our future cardiothoracic surgeon.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Banner… I have heard a lot about you.” It seemed like a lifetime since he had heard her angelic voice that was a symphony in his ears. He held his tears from falling and coughed to fight the strangle voice that was about to let out.

“A pleasure to meet you too Dr. Craig and I can say the same thing about you.”

Something inside of Helen was igniting.

Her flame.

That old flame which burnt her into many pieces and toyed with her body all of those times sharing with him. She couldn’t say that she didn’t miss him. The real him. The one she fell in love with. His adoring face, his soft hands, his broad shoulders where she leaned on and his assuring voice when she felt insecure.

She had mastered perfectly the art of acting and pretending to be satisfied with everything in her life. Little did those people in the room know how her heart was aching miserably and was shattering from disappointment and hurt from the very same man that was just two feet away.

But a baritone and irritating voice seemed to cut off all of that momentary darkness which in fact she thanked him in silence. “Done with the introductions? Great. We’ve got work to do.” Ethan turned his back and started to write in the whiteboard. “The patient is from Manhattan Presbyterian…”

While Ethan was explaining the symptoms, Helen held a transfixed face to all of the theories of her attending and unexpectedly to other colleagues, she started to ask questions which resulted helpful despite being a surgeon. Sometimes she shared thoughts with Clay and even agreeing with them. It was part of the job after all and Clay couldn’t help but feel proud for his woman.

Correction: his ex.

A past tense that he had to learn from now on. But deep inside of him there was a spark of hope that maybe… maybe things would get back to normal. And maybe she would forgive him.

The team was finally dismissed but only two people stayed. Ethan called Helen before she would leave and that made Clay’s blood boiled because all he wanted was to talk to her right after this meeting. He had to try one last card even though it was useless.

“Dr. Ramsey can we talk for a moment?”

“Is there anything wrong Dr. Banner?”

“No j-just,” he stuttered. “Q-questions about the team in general.”

“We will but after I finish a discussion with Dr. Craig if you don’t mind.”

Fuck you.

“Not at all Sir.” He closed the door reluctantly and sighed in defeat.

“What’s the matter Dr. Ramsey?” She asked although she knew damn well why he had called her.

“What are you doing here?” Ethan clasped his fingers as if to stop whatever his mind was blowing now. His ears were still echoing with her words whispering softly.

Thank you for the distraction. I really needed it.

“Starting my job,” she said innocently and shrugged. “Is it irrelevant?”

“Yes, it is,” he nodded and his feet was carrying him over her; something inevitable that no matter what, he couldn’t stop. “I don’t think all of this is a coincidence.”

“Well lucky for you now you’ll have the most trustworthy person in your team that won’t let you down.”

He scoffed while shaking his head. “I highly doubt your confidence.”

“Just wait and see.”

I’ve already seen you.

After their encounter last night Ethan couldn’t sleep. Many times of trying to change and find the perfect position led to nothing but drinking in the balcony that even his dog Jenner didn’t like it and cooed sadly to his owner. What was this woman doing to him? Why he felt so weak in front of her that immediately wanted to bend her over to his desk and scream his name?

“So,” she crossed her arms behind her waist. “How was I?”

He frowned in confusion and god she thought to herself why he had to be such handsome even in that moment. “Hm?”

“In making you feel surprised.”

“Ah that. Well you’ve clearly exceeded my expectations.”

“Wow. So I rendered you speechless then.”

Giggles were ringing in the walls and for the first time in a while Ethan Ramsey smiled at that. It was something so natural that came from her as other people didn’t get his dry humour but she... she was different. It was like a magnet that more and more you get closer, the more attached you become to her.

She’s been loop-the-looping around my mind

Her motorcycle boots give me this kind of

Acrobatic blood, concertina

Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire

He cleared his throat in purpose of changing the subject. “The reason why I called you,” he put his hand in his front pocket to reveal a tiny and shining object that seemed familiar to her. “Does this belong to you?

“Oh my god yes! This is my earring!” Helen exclaimed shockingly while grazing it with her thumb. Apparently had slipped when she whispered in his ear. “I was looking it all over my room but I couldn’t find it anywhere.” Her gaze now was turned back to him in gratefulness. “Thank you.”

Without thinking she closed their distance by enveloping him into a hug. This caught Ethan off guard but now he returned the hug back and closed his eyes while inhaling her perfume. She did the same too and in that moment both of them felt safe on each other’s arms as if they knew where they belonged. The world around them didn’t exist for a few seconds and both of them despite not saying out loud, they wanted to continue it.

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms

“It’s nothing.” He smiled politely when they separated.

“No this is not nothing. I owe you because this earring was really special to me.” She inhaled slowly while considering an option. Taking some risk wouldn’t hurt her? Right? “What do you say uhm- a drink? In this case I can apologise for yesterday’s… thing.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Sure I have, because to be completely honest Dr. Ramsey… I knew who you were.”

And here he thought that she was just another stranger that thankfully didn’t know him. Now he was feeling raged and betrayed because that meant she wanted to impress him only by her appearance and make a spot here on his team. His authoritative voice came back as if to maintain the last straw of himself.

“You did know who were you talking to?”

“Yeah I did. Now I’m speaking to my attending,” she moved tantalising and confidently just like yesterday. “To my colleague. And,” then tilted her chin while saying. “To a possible friend.”

“For the latter dream on.” He warned her.

She laughed heartedly. “We’ll meet at Donahue’s at 9 PM sharply and don’t be late because I can’t wait more than two minutes.”

His eyebrows narrowed incredulously and crossed his arms to his chest. “I don’t remember accepting your offer. And besides… how do you know my agenda? What if I’m busy?”

“Well I don’t remember taking a no answer from you and I’ve got my sources about your special agenda.” She shrugged innocently. “See you tonight doctor.”

The door was closed but not before throwing a playful wink to him. He let out a laugh while shaking his head in disbelief. This woman was really crazy but it was one of a kind and Ethan Ramsey couldn’t wait to know more about her.

——————————————

Helen wasn’t surprised to see him waiting impatiently in the corner while she was talking with Dr. Ramsey.

What was so important that took them this long? He thought.

Actually that was only five minutes but to him it seemed like five hours already. When she got out he couldn’t help but stare at her not knowing where to start first.

“Helen.”

“Dr. Banner,” the plastered smile didn’t leave her face despite being furious and ready to wipe his ass in front of everyone. “You can go now to Dr. Ramsey. He’s free.”

“Actually, can we talk?” She rolled her eyes. “I won’t make you wait too much. I promise.”

Helen whispered only for the two of them to hear. “You and your promises,” a tackle of her tongue was heard twice. “Aren’t in coherence. I don’t know why should I listen to you. Let me guess- I’m sorry my Helen but I had to step in you to gain my spot here in Edenbrook thanks to my parents who are very powerful and influential people in Boston.”

“I-”

“I’m not finished,” her hardened gaze was evident and he knew he had to stop. “Or how you accepted without so much caring not one but two strange women in your bed while you were fucking drunk. That must’ve been a fruitful threesome huh? Why didn’t you try with a boy too? That would’ve been the cherry on top.” Her words were poisonous and she thought he deserved much worse than these. “Or how your mother has always tried to make me feel miserable in front of everyone when you did absolutely nothing to stop it. Not even moving your finger.”

In an unusual place, when you’re feeling far away

She does what the night does to the day

She was right about everything. He couldn’t disagree with any of the words she said. Helen Craig was rarely found to be wrong.

“I think that our conversation ends here Dr. Banner.”

He grabbed her elbow without thinking twice for his recklessness and made her narrow her eyes in annoyance. “Tonight at Donahue’s bar 9 o’clock and I will explain you everything.”

“Get off me or I’ll scream.” She warned dangerously.

“We both know you can’t.” Clay had no idea where this was leading but he could see the fire into her eyes. “You wouldn’t want people to find out that you had a boyfriend working here huh?”

Look at this prick starting to talk.

“Well well do you need a reminder that my father and my brother can make you beg for your life again?”

The last encounter with the Craig males was one year ago when they found out that this jerk had dumped the most precious thing of their family. Patrick Craig was the first to reach for the drawer to load his gun just in case whereas Brian her brother made sure to find Clay’s location with his advanced knowledge of technology. The end resulted in a bloody and a harsh fight between them and warning the latter to not come any centimeter closer to Helen. And the scar on his neck was still visible after that time.

“That happened once. It can’t happen again,” he grasped her out of his hand. “I’ll be waiting.”

With that he left the ultimatum settled in her hands and keeping it until 9 PM. Helen stayed still like someone had glued her in a position that she couldn’t escape.

She wouldn’t go.

No.

She wouldn’t hear him again and believe his words. But there was such a confidence in his voice that made her scared. Thanks to that she felt the anxiety rising up and panic for what was about to come.

She could easily cancel the plans with Dr. Ramsey and not go to that bar. But when she met him yesterday it felt something different with that share of eye contact.

Despite being half-drunk and exhausted from her flight he had made her forgetting all of her plans and the reason why she came in Boston. It was entirely a new world, a new dimension that she hadn’t explored yet and was eager to find more about this man.

It was unethical but did she care? Not in the slightest. Helen was ambitious and she definitely would possess it. She had to think of a plan how to sabotage this whole thing but how?

The choice she had to make was like a ticking bomb that in one way or another, was going to blast.

She’s thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She’s thunderstorms, thunderstorms, thunderstorms

—————————————————————-

TAGS WILL APPEAR IN A REBLOG!

[quirklessidiot]

Title: coward :: choco pies Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu  Genre: major angst train ahead, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Synopsis: its been eight years since you first met Miya Atsumu, six years since you broke it off.  Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion. Notes: I am super happy by the positive response sIKE thank u so much, i hope yall stay safe in this pandemic!

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“...L/N-san, why aren’t you going to the banquet tonight?”

“I’m busy.” you simply replied to your co-worker, not even looking up from the sheets of finance papers in your hands, your brows furrowing in deep thought as you encircled some mistakes on the paper.

“It's the weekend tomorrow!” Aiko exclaims, shaking you lightly, “You can take your work home and finish it there! This is only held once a year and it's your first year in the company! You can’t miss it!”

You finally turned to your over-enthusiastic office mate and narrowed your eyes, “I can’t miss the grocery sale tonight.” You deadpan. Aiko blinks once then twice and suddenly she bursts out into a boisterous laugh, “Y-You got me there, Y/N.” she says, clutching her stomach.

Your expression remains the same though and it slowly dawned upon your raven-haired office mate that you weren’t joking at all, “Oh, you were serious.” Aiko stops laughing, realizing how stupid she must’ve looked. You return to your work but she continues to stare at you, ever since you entered the company six months ago, you refused to attend any work-related parties or do a lot of overtimes (this wasn’t a surprise, you always managed to finish your work before deadline)

No one really knew you at the office, you had a mysterious air around you and a rather intimidating aura that scared about half of the people in the finance department, oddly enough, Aiko was one of the few who approached you and made conversation. It was more one-sided in Aiko’s part though since your replies were usually curt and to the point.

The only thing scary about you was how blank your expression was ninety percent of the time.

“Can’t you go to the grocery tomorrow?”

“Can’t.” Your voice seemed a bit assertive now, “Those limited choco pie editions are coming out and they sold out pretty quick.”

“Choco pie?” Aiko blinked, “Aren’t you diabetic?”

“It’s for my kids.”

Kids.

Kids.

Kids?

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she cursed, her eyes as wide as an owl, “My kids? You have kids?”

You hummed a reply, continuing your work, clearly not surprised by her reaction since you were used to these types of things, “Twins actually, they’re in the first grade.” you corrected, remaining indifferent.

“You.” she paused, “You, the Y/N L/N, have kids. Like blood-related kids? With a husband and all that?”

“Yes, although the dad moved on.” You stopped encircling the file, a brief memory of the blonde slowly crossed your mind, “He’s in a better place now.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, per say, your ex was technically in a better place now. He’s a famous pro-volleyball player who represented Japan two years ago in the Olympics and was currently part of the top national teams in the country. 

You just didn’t bother correcting them when they thought he’s dead.

“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry.” 

“Hm.” You simply hummed a response, “I don’t like leaving them alone a lot.”

“I-I understand,” Aiko sighs, comforting you but it's deaf on your ears as usual, “Have you never considered dating again?”

“Waste of time.”

“Like ever?”

“I’ve got two growing boys, they’re enough for me already.”

Aiko shuts her mouth when she notices that your tone is sharp as if you’re telling her to drop the topic because it’s not in your best interest as of the moment, “May I see what they look like, L/N-san?” she asks in pure curiosity, changing the subject instead.

You simply open your phone next to you and there sits the lockscreen of two wide-grinning and identical-looking boys with raven-colored hair, “They don’t look like you.” she loudly observes but you’re not at all hurt by it.

“They got the best parts from their otosan, I guess.” 

The only thing the boys got from you was your eye color, it seemed like they were their father through and through in terms of looks, over-enthusiastic attitude, and love for the sport. In fact, only recently, the youngest twin had expressed his excitement to learn volleyball, the oldest, being the competitive one too, decided to join in and expressed that he had started to truly like it after a class.

Thankfully, your officemate doesn’t pry more about your life. You ended up resuming your work without much disturbance. You try to finish quickly, you have a sale to catch after all.

People often found it odd when you pointed out that you were the mother of Youta and Yuuto, for one, they looked and acted nothing like you. If you had to describe them, it would be balls of sunshine while you were just the gloomy rain clouds looming over them. It was definitely an amusing sight for many when they got to know your dynamic and many wondered how you made it work.

You watched the pair rush down the grocery lane in a hurry as you push the cart filled with essentials needed for this month, Youta was annoying his twin once again as they paced down the snack lane and tried to find the choco pie they’ve been raving about these past two weeks, “Slow down, you’ll fall.” You scolded lightly.

“Hai!” They called out in unison as they went behind one of the shelves, you stopped to take a biscuit off the shelf and read the nutritional facts, keeping an eye out on your boys from time to time. You suddenly felt a presence on your side, were they done taking the choco pie already? Sighing under your breath, you’re getting ready to be fake scared because they loved sneaking up on you but when you feel no tug on your leg, you’re immediately surprised for real by the familiar face in front of you.

“Miya-san?” 

You regain your composure almost immediately, not wanting him to notice how tense and scared you were, amongst everyone you had to run into, it had to be the twin brother of your ex, “ Well this is a surprise.” he greets, you could feel the distant tone on his voice and you weren’t phased by it the slightest, after what you did to his other half, you’re surprised he even approached you, “Me and ‘tsumu wondered where the hell you ended up after disappearing on him randomly and breaking up over the phone after a week.”

It wasn’t exactly the best plan but it was the fastest way out.

“I apologize.” You bowed down, you were sincerely sorry about what happened but if you could’ve done it again, you’d do it for the sake of your kids and his career, “Whenever I look back, I knew I could’ve done something better than treat him like that.”

Osamu’s brow quirks up, you were still as calm, cool, and collected as you were six years ago. It was scary how Atsumu fell for you when you were this unphased and cold. What the hell was he on when he fell in love with you?

“Well, thanks to you, he worked himself to the bone.” He shrugs, “He’s got a better life now.”

“I know.”

It may not look like it but from time to time, you’d check up and see how he was doing. Even more so during these days since your boys were getting into volleyball. Youta’s favorite was Hinata since he was one of the small guys in the league and he played very, very well. Ironically, Yuuto’s favorite setter was not his own father but a guy named Kageyama Tobio from the adlers who could set the ball at any place and had the greatest timing ever.

“He’s got a girl too.”

“That’s goo-”

“ ‘Kaasan!” A loud yell bursts out, cutting out the younger Miya twin. Osamu looks around, wondering who the boy was calling but when he realizes it was you, he’s in shock and he doesn’t even hide it. The cold facade he was waving in front of you immediately diminished when two identical looking boys ran to you at a fast speed, one clung onto your leg while the other was tattle-taling.

“Oh, is that Miya Atsumu, ‘kaasan? You didn’t tell me you knew him!” Yuuto points out, staring at the large man in complete awe. Youta who seems to finally notice who the guy was, immediately lets go of your leg and joins in with his twin, completely forgetting about the little spat they have.

“I’m his twin.” he corrects, Osamu wasn’t very good with talking to kids yet they didn’t seem to mind at all, they were still as excited when they realized that he used to play too and was the one who spiked his brothers sets back then.

“Woah,” Yuuto exclaims, “How are you not in volleyball? I betcha as good as him! Mom would comment how good he plays when we watch him on TV and mom hates sports!”

Osamu doesn’t know what to say next, he’s just surprised that you even watched and kept track of his twin brother after all those harsh words you said on the phone, what’s even more surprising was that you were a mom (and someone's wife probably)  and you seem to have a good life judging by these kids energetic upkeep. 

“...wish we could watch it live though! I heard the adlers and the jackal’s have another game soon!” Yuuto frowns, crossing his arms, “ ‘kaasan’s always busy.”

“How about yer otosan?” Osamu wanted to let that out for a while, he’s very curious to see who you settled down with, according to one of the many stories about you from his twin,  you weren’t a big fan of marriage and settling down permanently. 

“Oh,” Youta blinks, “Kaasan says otosan’s in a better place now. Do you know what that means, Mister?”

Osamu feels his throat constrict at how casual and nonchalant the boy is, he probably got that characteristic from you. These set of twins dealt with the idea of death way too casually towards a stranger.

“Baby, I think you should give him a rest now. Why don’t you both grab the wafers over there.” You try to calmly take them away in front of the grey-haired man, you didn’t want Osamu to keep interacting with them. There would be breadcrumbs left if the boys kept divulging about their lives towards him, Osamu had always been quick-witted despite his quiet nature.

The boys seemed downcasted right after but they listened quickly and wobbled towards the wafer shelf at the front.

“I thought ya didn’t want to get married.” 

“We didn’t,” you blinked, “He was gone before the boys were born, I wasn’t able to tell him.”

Osamu’s eyes narrowed, “You love him or something?” 

“I do,” you replied coolly, “Very much so until today.”

“I see,” the grey-haired man was still looking at you, trying to gouge any reaction but you remained the same, “I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“He seems happy and successful now.” was all you could reply to his bitter phrase, “As sorry as I am, I can’t take back what I did. I can only atone and keep moving forward.”

Miya Osamu wants to yell at you because you didn’t see the state his brother was in after you left but he couldn’t bring himself to, after all, it seemed like you were unappalled by him and that his words would mean absolutely nothing.

“Then I hope I don’t see you again, L/N-san.” he spat, putting as much hatred in his words as possible.

“Have a good night, Miya-san.” You simply replied, bowing down. 

“I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“Kaasan says otosan is in a better place now.”

“Kaasan, do you think otosan would be proud if I became the super best volleyball player?”

“Stupid, it should be the both of us who’re the best!”

“Yeah! If we became the super best volleyball players, maybe he’d come back from that better place when he sees us on tv!”

You suddenly dropped the plate you were holding, a loud sound resonated in the small kitchen. Shakily, as you picked up the broken shards of the plate, you felt something trickling down your cheeks, “Ah…” you breathed out, wiping out the stray tear.

When was the last time you cried?

“Kaasan?” a small voice called out, you hurriedly wipe out the tears and pick up the broken shards of the plates before turning to the two boys in transformer pajamas.

“Hey.” you tried to reply steadily but the little lump on your throat prevented you from doing so, “Have you brushed your teeth?”

The boys gave each other a quick glance and the only thing they replied with was opening their arms to you, you blink for a moment,surprised by their quietness and their open arms, “When we have a bad day, you’d always do this to us.” Youta mutters, seemingly shy by this, they were never one for big hugs and kisses, saying they were big boys now.

“Did that miya atsumu-fake make you cry, kaasan? Should we get’im?” Yuuto grumbles, their attitude seems to contrast their exciting ones a while ago.

You bend down to their level and just encompassed them in a hug, “Kaasan’s just tired,” you hummed as you buried yourself between them, seeping in the warmth of their hugs and comfort, “I’m all better now, I’ve got you two anyways.”

You placed the small encounter you had with Miya Osamu at the back of your head, not wanting it to be a distraction or a hindrance. You couldn’t cry in front of your kids anymore than that night, you shouldn’t. You were a single parent, the only rock and permanent companion your kids would have for the rest of their lives, you couldn’t let them down.

“L/N-san have you heard?” 

Thankfully it was your day-off today and you could pick up the boys earlier than usual. The mom next to you looked more excited and elated, you were betting that this had something to do with gossip around their circles.

“I’m sure she hasn’t, she’s a rather busy mom, akiko-san.” another gushed.

“Ah yes!” she giggled, “Sorry I can’t contain my excitement but Sugawara-sensei is very good friends with a member of the black jackals, apparently he was his kohai back in high school.”

You feel your shoulders tense, it couldn’t be right? The amount of coincidences seemed to hit you like a truck, first osamu, now your kids teacher?

“Ninja Shoyou was it? Yes, well, they’ve decided to host a mini training camp this weekend! All the members would be there! Ah, I hope my boy gets noticed!” Riya grins, “Your boys would be very pumped, right? I personally heard Sensei telling them how natural they seemed to be. They even had their own jerseys made for the class!”

You could only nervously nod along and excuse yourself, you wanted to hurry home and deny your boys to go to this training camp. As much as you supported their love for the sport, you weren’t ready for them to meet him. They loved to blab and if Atsumu were to get wind of them, what would he say?

You didn’t want him to deny them right at their faces.

At the same time, somewhere at an upstate part of the city. Miya Atsumu lays on his bed with a naked woman sprawled next to him. His head’s fuzzy from the alcohol he drank last night and how early he and his partner had finished.

“What the fuck, put some clothes on, ya freak.” He hears his brother curse as soon as he goes out of his bedroom. Osamu would randomly make an appearance in Tokyo to fix up his plans for the franchising of his store.

“Thought you had your own place to crash?” Atsumu ignores his brother’s statement as he grabs a short that had been thrown to the side last night.

“I’m going back later, thought I’d swing by before I went home.”

“How nice of you.” the blonde deadpanned, “You should leave though, Riku’s still here.”

“You don’t say...you lot like to go at it like animals in heat.” he mutters, a look of disgust crossed his features, “I’m just here to drop by some food, I can’t leave you dying.”

“Could’ve left it in the ref and dashed off when you saw the panty on the couch.”

“Again,” Osamu crinkles his nose, “Disgusting. Kita-san would throw some disinfectant at you.”

The blonde rolled his eyes in reply as he grabbed some water by the refrigerator, Osamu watched his brother for a bit, wondering if he should tell him. They’ve never talked about Y/N after that phone call six years ago, he had to walk on eggshells around his brother for a year because of that, taking in a quick breather, he confessed, “I saw Y/N.” 

The room turned silent, Osamu waits for a reaction, a curse or anything similar to that yet he’s surprised by the lazy smirk adorning his brother's features, “Hn, it looks like you’re the one who she called and broke up with on the phone.” he laughs.

Osamu is wary but he doesn’t push it, “I was just surprised that’s all, you weren’t exactly in a good place after she left.”

“That was ages ago, ‘samu!” he exclaims, shaking it off, “I betcha she still doesn’t give two shits about me and what happened because that’s how she is but i don’t care because i’m living the life now! I’ve even got a nicer and prettier girl now! Who, mind you, is better than her in many emotional levels. Y/N’s history.”

Osamu didn’t want to tell him about the kids or the ‘man’ you met after Atsumu who you claim to love very dearly so he kept his mouth shut and just went with the flow of the conversation. Not pointing out how his twin just changed the topic right after as if he didn’t want to dwell on it and open anymore wounds.

tag list (closed)

@fortheloveofiwaizumi @svtbitch @ryaaaax @kiyoomile @lovedanii @juno-multifandom​ @gyubit17​

[thevoilinauttheory]

Fire

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 2: Aberrant ]

The Five Part “In the Dreams of Ashley” series is done! Go read the others here! {Prelude} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Wind} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Fire} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Water} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Earth}

[ HEAVY CONTENT WARNINGS - THIS PIECE IS TO EXPLORE ONE OF MY DEEPEST FEARS CONTAINING: mentions of death/blood, regrets surrounding said death, nightmares, detailed suffocation, detailed description of burning to death, suicidal ideation ]

[ also decided to do a music theme this month and all of these will have musical accompaniment lol ]

To dream that you or someone is being burned alive suggests that you are being consumed by your own ambition. To dream that you are being burned by fire indicates that your temper is getting out of control. Some issue or situation is burning up inside you. If you are setting a fire to something or even to yourself, then it indicates that you are undergoing some great distress. You are at the brink of desperation and want to destroy something or some aspect of yourself.

==

“So how did you even get here?” Ashley shoved a dumpling into his mouth, having yanked it from the pot as soon as he realized it was ready. Ruta had set up a fire, a large heavy pot on top of it, filled to the brim with broth and vegetables. He didn’t question where she got it, or even how she carried it - though common sense dictated that she borrowed the pot from the fishermen in Isari, as well as bought the food; they *were* set up right outside it, of course.

“Hm?” Ruta had her mouthful already, slurping up what noodles were left in her mouth. It took her a good minute to finish chewing so she could talk; and in that time, Ashley had already taken to swishing thin slices of fish around until they were cooked enough to eat.

“Y’know, get here. Back in the cells, you said you were from Kugane… but, uh… no offense, but.” “Because I’m Xaelic?” “...Yeah, sorry. That’s rude of me to point out.” Ruta only laughed. “Yeah… I left that part of me in the Steppes. I was capable, but… I thought, as a kid, if they’re gonna leave me tied up to a tree, I might as well go my own way. What’s to say that it’s not going to happen again?” “Tied to a tree? Oof, that’s rough.” “Made it all the way to Kugane and ran into some nice folks who thought ‘who in the hells let this child run around on her own!’.” She laughed. “They adopted me. Real nice people.” “They still with you?” ”Hope so, it’s been a few years.”

He stared at the flames, leaning back on his hands after he filled himself up on food - thinking about her words, how everyone he knew would have moved on with their lives without him. “Where’re Colette ‘n’Hunter? They’ve been gone a while.” “I think they went ahead to scout for a boat. We gotta leave in the dead of night, if we want a chance at getting past those pirates. You know how to swim?” “Uuhh… I’m gonna say “I’ll figure it out”.” He laughed. “Grew up in a desert, don’t really have time to learn to swim.” “You might have to! If we have to jump off the boat and swim our way there. I’m sure Hunter wouldn’t mind dragging you with him - guy loves to swim.” “Does he?” “I mean… he’s told me as much, at least.” “Hm.” That grin on her face only told him how much she was judging him. “What! Leave me alone! Stop staring like that, gods, it’s weird.”

==

“Don’t y’think you’ve been “retired” long enough?” Ashley leaned back in his chair and kicked his legs up on the table in front of him; he stuck the tiniest crumb of paper under his tongue, then closed his eyes. “Nope.” “Kid, you have to *move on*. Shite like this? This happens all the time - you’ve been sheltered way too long--” “Who died and made you th’boss of my life, huh? If I’ve been sheltered, then y’leave me to be the little bitch I am until I’m *ready* to “move on”. You haven’t experienced what I have. I haven’t experienced what you have.” “How’re you going to make any money to live with an attitude like that.” “Off my savings? My life ain’t your business - you can either sit here and enjoy a drink with me, or you can piss off. I don’t care either way, I ain’t working yet.”

==

He didn’t really need the road down memory lane - but it helped ease the pain, just for a little bit. His boots crunched over the shells and rocks that made up the shores of the Ruby Sea, staring at the water as he strolled. He had always questioned why they had referred to it as “ruby”, there was nothing as brilliant or red about it… back then, of course. He had taken its beauty for granted. The crimson kelp that made up the depths against the sparkling reflections from the sun, everything was so… peaceful. To a degree. He couldn’t account for the Garlean control over the area, and had to be on his toes because of it, but it was nice.

He wished his friends were around to witness it - it was dark when they were able to see it, if one could even call it “seeing”, as much as it was a black pit of unknown they were diving into.

He made a stop in Crick - he wasn’t necessarily welcome, but he wasn’t unwelcome either. They regarded him with impassiveness there, letting him relax as he wished or needed to - which happened to be in front of a fire with a pot attached to it, boiling water. How much longer could he stand to be here? The memories were starting to hurt now, they ached, and suddenly he felt ill to his stomach. That was when he decided it was best to leave, standing up to turn back the way he came - watching the ocean once more with the unevenness of the shore beneath his feet yet again.

There was a fisher’s boat floating in the middle, a small Auri woman casting out a line with a basket of fish next to her. Living a carefree, or… mostly carefree life. Living life as she could, and it seemed she was doing well enough. She turned her head and made accidental eye-contact with him-- those eyes, that face.

“Ruta?” He questioned softly, then smiled brightly and waved. “Ruta! You’re safe! Gods be!” As he watched the woman wave back, his vision blackened - flashes of the body of his fallen friend bleeding out on top of her girlfriend’s, looking behind him as he ran.

The next he knew were flames - and only flames. His whole body was searing, the heat too much for his skin. He tried to pull his foot from the ground, to try and run for the ocean, but he could not move. He stayed in place and it only seemed like the relief of water got further and further away the more he longed for it. It started with his legs, that’s where his eyes turned to next. One foot stood solid in the slowly creeping fount of lava, threatening to take the next one over. What happened? How did he get here? There was no way he would have done this of his own volition, was there? But no, he did - he stepped right into it, a wonder, no, a *knowing* of what the consequence would bring. A solace in knowing that this would be the price he paid for his inadequacies.

Even as he tried to change his mind - tried to scream for help that could not hear him, the fire climbed only higher. All he could do was cry out in pain as he watched his clothes set ablaze, and his skin begin to blacken and peel. The pain of it all, the searing pain of his skin melting from his bones wasn’t even the worst of it; it was the agony of seeing it happen slowly - the scent of the hairs and flesh charring; the popping, bubbling, cracking noises that followed until he was swallowed whole by it. Each scream, each breath, he was forced to swallow the flames until they choked him - then each cough cooked his lungs; his vision was nothing but reds and oranges until it had gone black, and what was left of him could only fall to try and drag itself to an escape out of pure need for survival. Only to be overtaken by the slow and searing pain of pure fire covering the entirety of his body - the last he heard was not the crackling of his bones like tinder, but the paddles of a boat hitting the still water as it passed right by him.

==

His awakening was a slow one this time, feeling the tears that had dried against his cheek. He woke up next to the flames of the dying fire, left alone by the people of the town around him. He was disoriented, confused. When it finally settled that it was a nightmare, he let out a heavy and relieved sigh.

Not quite the same as the last, but no less painful and terrifying.

[pollenat]

“Changing lanes” | chs.

➛ SEVENTEEN’s Vernon. Angst. This is meant to hurt. Drake’s “Passionfruit” was a huge inspiration for the setting of this short.

➛ Word count: 1448.

The redness of streetlights. It bounces off of the front window and peeks inside. Josh’s face is sunken in it. Shadows twist and pull at his face, barely keeping up with his movement. Stark red doesn’t match his smile while laughing. Together, they’re sinister. Together, they’re pointing at a person in the passenger’s seat, a person you’d rather forget all about. But well, you’re unable to.

The familiar smell reaches behind. It’s like nightmarish serpents, crawling inside every single one of your head’s openings to take over. You can’t hear, taste or smell anything other than the serpents’ guardian. For some reason, only your eyes are strong enough to choose their direction. Maybe because Vernon is hidden behind the seat, and though you catch a few moments his body appears in your vision, you can’t really see him.

Josh shifts gears. The light has changed to green, unnoticed. A car speeds past yours, the passing moment of loud music scaring you away from the cold window.

“Shit. Fucker-” Vernon laughs at Josh’s curse words, but without strength to his voice.

He’s in the front, so he doesn’t have to see you; so, along with the lack of your voice, he may forget you’re in the car at all.

You think that when he looks at you, he sees a weed. Something unpretty, something for just a sliding glance, not a proper stare. Something not worth of too much attention, so he can tune your words out when listening isn’t necessary. Something he laughs at or with, but more out of obligation than pure feelings. Something that he doesn’t need, but has to coexist with. It hurts, knowing that you’re just something. Not even Something or SOMETHING. You’re just being, but there’s nothing more to you for Vernon.

A nuisance to his good conscience is what you are. How selfish of you to ever dare a thought that, perhaps, he may look at you and see as much as you do in him. That he may feel serpents crawling inside his own head when you’re no gorgon like him - you can’t freeze him in place with a glance.

The car repeatedly changes lanes, Josh’s doing his best to liven the party up by zigzagging on the empty street. He looks behind, but you turn away to look at houses hidden behind streetlights. Vernon’s house is close. You’re eager to exit his personal space, though you know you will feel the opposite as soon as he disappears.

Rumbling engine has you wondering whether there’s a way to change things. To prove yourself a hero everybody lusts after. The main character of a story where you win the heart of your beloved. But of course, there’s none. You’re no protagonist. You’re the background. A story nobody brings up, because it’s a sad one.

Joshua nods his head along to a quiet beat from his broken radio. It’s been a while since it first started hissing, but being a young adult means learning to live with inconvenience, and so he has never repaired it.

The car stops behind another one you recognize to be Vernon’s parents’. You’ve reached the primary destination. Hands clap and grasp each other in front of you. The tip of Vernon’s nose peeks from behind the seat.

“See you soon, dude.” Josh tells him. Vernon mumbles something back. “(y/n), come on to the front. I’m not your taxi driver!”

It’s a reminder. Vernon freezes for a moment, suddenly realizing there’s someone else. You’re given a quick bye, a true sign of pretense you want to spit on from despise.

Both of you scramble out of the car, quick to pass the other one. The entire time you’re looking down, at the pavement. Vernon’s trainers come into your view. There’s a patch of dirt on the rubber tip you don’t comment. Not even a bye back, you fall on his seat, sighing. Josh waves at Vernon, but the man doesn’t see it. Having you out of sight means having you out of mind. You’re a weed he needs to pull out, but struggles with, so he gives up.

Radio speaker says something. You’re watching the silhouette distancing itself from you. Vernon’s steps towards house seem hurried, but his slouched back and hands hidden in pockets are meant to make you believe otherwise. For a moment he stops to pull keys out.

“So,” Josh’s voice pushes you out of your brain. Vernon’s back disappears in the darkness of his house. The front door closes. “what happened between you and Vernon?”

The car starts. Josh doesn’t look at you, busy checking the road for other vehicles. The gear shifts and you wish you were the first one for the drop-off. 

“Nothing?” Surprised huff of humor speaks volumes, though you said just a word.

He doesn’t look at you and, for some reason, you’re even more scared of admitting the truth. As long as Josh doesn’t know of your humiliation, you can pretend there’s no reason for it. As long as he doesn’t see the terror on your face, he isn’t aware of the expanse of your personal tortures.

“Yeah, right.”

Coincidentally, he turns right, instead of left, towards your neighborhood. It’s enough to let you know - the guy wants answers. If he gets answers, he’ll feel pity and the possibility of being its object is even worse. You don’t want this heart-wrenching show to go on. When will the credits roll? The darkness outside surely calls for them.

“You stayed silent and thought I wouldn’t notice...”

The car doesn’t speed. Josh is collecting his thoughts, forming a monologue to coax you out of shell. It’s not an if question, rather when. With guilt clawing its way up your throat, you’re sure the breaking point is close, no matter how much you want to stop it from happening. Possible words of refutal fly around your head. Which one shall you use today?

It goes on for a few minutes. There’s no point in going much farther. Josh parks the car by a sidewalk. You don’t know anyone from the street he chose, but it doesn’t matter.

“Listen, I know there’s something more to that silence. Vernon - he won’t talk. I know. He’d tell me already. But you-” His index finger points at you from the steering wheel. “You need some talking to. You’re not as stubborn as him. Not with me.” He doesn’t speak more for a moment, clearly waiting an answer. “We’re friends. I won’t judge you. It’s- I can see you’re struggling with something and I think a talk with a friend could help.”

You’re too taken by his monologue and the bubbling feelings inside of you, to pay attention to flies under the nearby streetlight. Radio hisses quietly, more to itself than to bother others. For a moment you miss its speaker’s words. They could work as an anchor, a phenomenon you could focus on to keep your head away from Joshua and Vernon.

“I’m not driving you home until you tell me.” He leans more against the seat. “Otherwise you will torture yourself into a bad state. So don’t be mad at me. I’m just trying to be a good friend.”

Friend would take a step back and let you do your thing, or so you hope. But he’s not wrong. You will most likely do that - stay in your house moping around, avoiding everyone and missing Vernon like crazy. It’s sad that he won’t miss you back. He’ll be thankful you’re no longer bothering him.

“Did you... beef?”

“Beef?” Somehow amused by the thought you could not agree with Vernon on something, you look at Joshua. He’s already staring back, studying your features.

“I don’t know what else could be the case, other than-” Josh cuts off, aware you understand his course.

You forget yourself and drop your head. It’s a sign your companion instantly gets. You can feel a headache coming.

“Oh, so it is?” Josh doesn’t sound surprised. “You told him, didn’t you? I guess it makes sense-” It does, because Vernon could never like you back, right?

Silence fills the car. It’s heavy like smoke, making you open the window, to allow noise inside. Buzzing of AC, screeching of some bird, humming of life. They’re all much better than Josh’s silence. Nice to listen to. Silence, no matter where it comes from, reminds you of Vernon, seeing his features peeking from behind the seat, the dirt on his shoe as you were passing him by the car. You decide to hate the silence from now on, because you can’t hate Vernon.

“I’m sorry.” Truthfully, pity is even worse than silence.

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[yellowocaballero]

Desolation Destroyed My P****: Web!Jon, Gertrude/Agnes Repressed Homoeroticism, and Gerry faking his own death

Another installment in the slowly complicating Web!Jon AU based off The Convention on Chronographer Lane/The Monster at the End of This Book. You don’t need to know anything about the other two installments, the main story, or the actual Web!Jon story that will get WRITTEN once I’m done with Space Cadet. Full story under the cut. GERTRUDE POV BABY LET’S GO DON’T BE A COWARD AND EMBRACE THE GERIATRIC LESBIANS. 

CW for body horror

2002

People did not call Gertrude for favors. 

Somehow most of the community had fallen under the impression that it was a bad idea to owe a favor to Gertrude Robinson, because she always came to collect. Gertrude had worked hard to enforce this. Most of those in her...field knew better than to ask an enemy for favors, and Gertrude made a habit of collecting enemies. She was not in the habit of collecting friends. 

Allies, maybe. She could count her allies on one aging hand and have fingers left over. Unfortunately, Agnes Montague was one of them. 

Also unfortunately, Agnes disliked and distrusted the Institute so severely she only ever called when she knew Gertrude would be in her own home - so, at one am, on a Saturday. The shrill blaring of Gertrude’s almost unused home phone startled her from her nightly reading, and she was forced to bookmark her place before picking up the phone. 

She never spoke first on the phone, and old precaution, but Agnes knew that. “Don’t worry. I’m only calling for business reasons. I need another favor.”

Gertrude’s lips thinned. “Agnes. It’s been a while.”

Six months and a week, not that Gertrude was counting. The last time Agnes had called her up asking for a favor was the first time they had ever spoken: a request for help escaping her cult. It had been a long, messy business. The burn scar had only just healed. 

They had a moment of sentimentality, then. A moment of sentimentality that had begun so many years ago as their lives were tied together in that forest, and stretched forward in time and space to culminate in a single mistake. It was a mistake Gertrude was afraid she was still making now. 

“I would have called, but it was still dangerous,” Agnes said cheerfully. She had been a morose and sulky woman, when Gertrude first met her. She had brightened considerably since they had won her freedom: like the turn of winter into spring. “It’s settled down quite a bit, which is why I need the favor.”

“You still haven’t paid me back for last time,” Gertrude said mildly. 

But Agnes just laughed, warm and soft, despite the cold welcome. “I feel like we both got something out of that arrangement, don’t you?”

They did. Gertrude wasn’t sure which arrangement Agnes was referring to. “Fine. What is it you need? Within reason, Agnes. I’m not sure I have another great escape in me.”

“I need three false identities,” Agnes said, shocking Gertrude deeply. People only tended to call Gertrude when they need something murdered or blown up. Not that she minded. “You know everybody, and I’ve been a bit cloistered these past few years. I have a source who knows some people, but the person that we’ve been avoiding also knows those resources, so they’re right out.”

“Running an underground railroad, are we, Agnes?” Gertrude asked archly. 

Agnes laughed again, and despite herself the sound still rang something buried and cold in Gertrude’s heart. “I figured I’d try my hand at the good guy thing. What can I say, Gertrude? You were a good influence on me.”

“Don’t mock me.” But Gertrude sighed anyway, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll get you in touch with who I use. If you give me your email I can connect you.”

“...what’s -”

“Never mind. I’ll pass your phone number along. Goodnight, Agnes.”

But the line crackled and fuzzed, and Agnes didn’t hang up. Neither did Gertrude. When Agnes spoke again it was soft - not hesitant, Agnes was never hesitant, but gentle. Agnes, Gertrude had found, could be more gentle than anybody else. “We never visited that lake.”

“Those are just dreams, Agnes,” Gertrude said - harshly, maybe unkindly. She didn’t know how to be anything else. 

“Not to me. I - no, John, don’t eat that, you don’t know where it’s been!” Agnes sighed, sending a crackle of static over the line and catching Gertrude’s attention severely. “I have to go. Goodbye, Gertrude. Thank you for your help. Call me sometimes, will you? For personal reasons. I gave you my number for a reason.”

Gertrude hung up on her, deciding not to dignify any of that with a response. She hardly had the time to make - personal phone calls. 

 What foolishness. Agnes had infected her with such foolishness. 

Gertrude went back to her book, mind working furiously, trying to remember if she had ever read of a ‘John’. 

*****

Unfortunately, ‘John’ was about as common a name as they came. 

Gertrude herself scarcely had any time to follow-up. Judging from Agnes’ words and tone, John was a child of some sort - had Agnes kidnapped somebody else’s child? Her child? (Gertrude had a very ridiculous thought for a moment before dismissing it, before grudgingly accepting that Agnes was made out of wax and that nothing was technically impossible). She gave Agnes her guy’s phone number and wished she could wash her hands of the matter. What Agnes did from now on would hopefully be none of her business. 

Gertrude wished she could delude herself into believing that. 

But Gertrude’s work was picking up, the rituals coming in faster and faster, and she found herself running about much more than she should at her age. Emma was invaluable, Fiona worked hard in research, and Michael was...sweet, but she trusted them with little information and trusted them less to watch her back. She couldn’t dedicate the amount of time she wanted to a hunch.

To make matters worse, Mary Keay had seemed to misplace her child. She was torn up about it, in her...own way. Gertrude wasn’t concerned. The boy was seventeen. He’d be back in three months with another two piercings, a Grateful Dead shirt, and no money. Goodness knows Gertrude had done it enough at his age. Did kids still trail along at Grateful Dead concerts? What was Gerry always listening to these days, Green Day? Green Day concert. 

As such, it was two weeks before Gertrude even had time to follow up with her contact. It only took minimal application of her blackmail before he spilled what Agnes had him make, and the full details therein. Most importantly, her new listed address. That, at least, ought to be real. 

As Gertrude rode the Underground to the humble London neighborhood where Agnes had apparently escaped her followers, sneering at young men who tried to give her their seats, she flipped through the paperwork. Agnes Montague, twenty seven - my, wasn’t she vain - born in London, England. All of her details seemed fairly legitimate. New NIN, credit score, false history, the usual. So it wasn’t her she was trying to hide. 

The second file was more interesting. There was her mystery John. Jonathan, apparently. Jonathan Montague. 

Gertrude’s eyebrows crawled up. What was her game?

The announcement of her stop echoed smoothly through the train, and she quickly folded up the papers and stuffed them back in her purse. It was a short walk from the station to the flat complex where Agnes was now staying, and she found herself ridiculously wondering what Agnes would look like. 

Would her hair be the same color, the color of licks of fire straining into the night sky? Her eyes the same forest green, a rainforest any woman could drown in? Her skin rosy and soft, with full appearance of youth and longevity, never to age or decay? Gertrude was only barely sixty, but she was feeling her age with every year. Her living had been hard, and it was finally catching up with her.

What else would catch up with her, once she knocked on Agnes Montague’s door?

Apartment number 426,  1446 Frederick Street. The strange thing about it was the welcome mat set outside the door. There was a little smiley face. It was so incongruous with Agnes, yet so oddly fitting, that Gertrude found herself smiling. 

She knocked once, twice. Her lockpicks were up her sleeve. Hopefully Agnes wasn’t home and she could snoop, but - 

The door opened to reveal Gerard Keay, looking down at a loose crumple of bills in his hand. He was so busy counting them out that he didn’t see who was standing at his doorstep.

“Thanks, mate, we -” Gerard finally looked up, and his face whitened. “You aren’t pizza.”

“So I’ve been told,” Gertrude said dryly. “Are you going to let me in?”

He let her in. 

******

So that was where Gerard had gotten to. 

Agnes, who had been pulling soda out of the fridge in their small kitchenette, was much happier to see her than Gerard was. It was the first time anybody had been happy to see Gertrude suddenly turning up at their doorstep in a very long time, and it made Gertrude almost uncomfortable. 

“I’m here for business reasons,” Gertrude felt the need to tell her, as she glared Gerard into sulking miserably on the couch. He had dyed his beautiful hair some nasty black color, which was either for disguise purposes or for...what was the word...goth? Goth purposes? Gertrude was very thankful she did not have children. 

But Agnes just smiled at her, as if she saw straight through. Which was ridiculous. There was nothing to see straight through. “It would be pretty strange if you stalked me until you found my address and showed up at my home in the middle of the day holding lockpicks for business reasons, Gertrude!”

“It’s for personal reasons.”

“There we go. I would offer you some pizza, but it seems that it’s not here yet.”

“So it seems.” Gertrude turned her eyes on Gerard, who wilted. “I hope this is a valuable lesson in checking to see who is at the door before you answer it, young man.”

Gerard mumbled something. 

“I know for a fact your mother did not raise you to be this careless.”

“My mother barely raised me at all,” Gerard grumbled. 

“Fine. Then I did not teach you to be that careless.” That got an actual flinch out of him, and Gertrude sighed. “What is going on here, you two?”

“It’s a very long story,” Agnes said. 

“Containing very many events I am under pain of death not to tell you about,” Gerard added. “Are you going to tell Mum I’m here?”

Gertrude sighed. 

The flat was small, clearly newly rented. They had very little furniture, and what they did have was clearly liberated from charity shops and kerbs. Their living room held a battered television, one of those gaming consoles Gerard liked so much, a scuffed and thoroughly singed coffee table to match an equally singed couch, and a pair of overstuffed bookshelves. A cutaway wall revealed a small kitchen, with a nook that held a rickety kitchen table.  None of it seemed particularly out of the ordinary for two young people, strongly resembling Gertrude’s own first flat. 

She cautiously sniffed the air. No smell of candles. Hm. 

She was just about to push the matter of how exactly the Messiah of the Eternal Flame and a bookseller’s son met and became flatmates when a crash and a thump echoed from the hallway. Gerard jumped off the couch, and Agnes bit her lip. Another rattle echoed from the hallway, and something deep in Gertrude’s mind recognized the sounds as those of a caged animal. 

“What is that,” Gertrude said flatly. 

“I’ll check on him,” Gerard said quickly, fleeing into the hallway. He knocked on one of the doors - Gertrude noticed that there were two on each side, three bedrooms and a bathroom - and said something quietly against the door, before cracking the door open a few inches. Gertrude couldn’t see what was inside, and she couldn’t maneuver herself closer without alerting Agnes. 

There was another crash, and Gerard slammed the door shut quickly. He grinned broadly yet anxiously at Gertrude, tittering a laugh. “It’s nothing! Nothing to see here. Would you like a cuppa, Gertrude!”

“Hm,” Gertrude said. 

They gave her a cuppa. She sat on the couch, Agnes and Gerard anxiously standing in front of her wringing their hands, and pretended to sip the cuppa. 

“Promise there’s no human flesh in it,” Gerard said. Gertrude arched an eyebrow at him until he sighed, took it, took a small and exaggerated sip, and then passed it back. 

It was only then that Gertrude tried some. She couldn’t help but smile. Agnes’ tea was always perfect. 

“Can one of you tell me why, according to the government, you are now legally siblings?” Gertrude asked archly. She put one hand down on the cracks between the sofa cushions beside her, pretending it was for balance. “Without lying, please.”

Agnes shrugged helplessly. “Gerard didn’t want to live with his mother anymore and I wasn’t doing anything important.”

“We thought about faking a corpse but was afraid that would just excite her,” Gerard said, depressed. “Hopefully when I don’t turn up she’ll just assume I was eaten by a book.” He affected a faux-nasally tone that did, admittedly, sound a lot like Mary. “ ‘If he’s too incompetent to survive he’s no good to me as a son. Good riddance to bad rubbish, his whole line’.”

“Gerry won’t let me immolate her,” Agnes said seriously. 

“She’s my mum, Agnes!”

“Immolating parental figures is very therapeutic.” Agnes patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “When I set everybody who ever loved me on fire, I felt great about it.”

“It seemed very cathartic,” Gertrude said dryly. She dug her fingers deeper into the crack between the cushions until something soft and thread-like rubbed between her fingers. Bingo. “Why the false identities? Why not simply let Gerard live with you until he turned 18?”

“We want him declared dead,” Agnes said simply. “And we want him to have an actual identity for when that happens. This is the best way to keep him away from his mum. Besides, Gerard Montague has his A Levels and a diploma for uni. ” She shrugged. “And hopefully he’ll be staying with me for quite a bit longer than a year.”

Interesting. They really did know each other. Maybe they were even really friends - although Gertrude was forced to wonder what a woman in her sixties and a teenager had in common. Gerard had mentioned wanting to go to university, but they had all known it was a pipe dream. Dreams like that often were. Gertrude neatly withdrew her hand from the cushion, folding her hands over each other in her lap. She rubbed the thread between her hands, satisfied when she felt its loose, sticky elasticity. 

 How interesting. 

“And Jonathan?”

Both of them froze. 

Gerard broke first, laughing nervously and high pitched. “Who’s that?”

Gertrude lifted her hand, showing both of them the thin strand of spider-silk pinched between two bony fingers. Both Agnes and Gerard whitened. “I imagine it’s whatever Avatar of the Web you have locked in the back room that is responsible for these.”

They winced simultaneously, glancing at each other. Doubtlessly trying to come up with a cover story. Gertrude sighed, standing up from the couch and straightening her skirts. Nothing for it then. Her Glock was still strapped to her thigh, and a hunting knife at her other. 

Gertrude knew very little about the Web. Just, she suspected, as it liked. It had no rituals, and held no explicit threat to the safety of the world. It was a threat, for sure. Even worse, a threat that Gertrude knew infuriatingly little about. But it was not the most immediate threat, and as Gertrude spent every day drowning under more and more immediate threats she held very little time for those which weren’t promising to end the world anytime soon.

Maybe that was why Gertrude was fully planning to leave this flat and never mention its inhabitants again - not to Mary, not to Dekker, and not to whatever scattered remnants of her cult that Agnes had left alive. Whatever Agnes wanted, it seemed to be closer to a normal life living with her friend than anything world-destroying. And whatever Gerard wanted...well, he was a good boy. He wouldn’t do anything dangerous to anybody other than himself. Mary didn’t have to know. Perhaps it was even for the best.

“You really don’t want to go in -”

“Gertrude, please, he’s in a rather delicate stage right now -”

Another thump against the door. As Gertrude left the living room, crisply walking down the thin and crowded hallway until she stood in front of a thin and battered-looking door, she could slowly begin to hear the faint but distinct sounds of...chittering. Skittering. It was a sound she had heard only once before, during a brush with the corruption.

Gertrude raised a hand to knock at the door. 

A hand shot out, pale and thin, and clasped Gertrude’s wrist in its grip firmly. Despite herself, Gertrude’s breath caught. Agnes’ touch still did that to her, it seemed. When she glanced to the side, she saw Agnes standing next to her, mouth stubbornly set firm. Her long and silky orange hair tumbled over her shoulder, glimmering under the soft lights.

“The world’s a cruel place, Gertrude,” Agnes said. “We’re just trying to look out for each other.”

“We all chose this life,” Gertrude said, voice tinged with reproach. 

But Agnes just set her jaw stubbornly. “We didn’t.”

It was a we that didn’t include Gertrude - but, of course, so little of Agnes’ life did. 

Gertrude let her hand drop to the doorknob, and she didn’t meet Agnes’ eyes as she twisted the knob and let herself in. 

Some part of her felt it very idiotic, to walk into what she knew was a spider’s lair. A ridiculous part of her mind couldn’t help but hum the little nursery rhyme she had learned as a girl. But if it was truly dangerous Agnes would have prevented her from going in, instead of asked her to. Some part of Gertrude trusted that, a part of Gertrude that somehow still survived despite everything. 

It wasn’t that Agnes appealed to the softer side of Gertrude. It was more that Agnes appealed to the hardest and cruellest parts of her, her tough outer shell, that ached for a reassurance that even a woman raised in utmost cruelty could make the choice to be kind. That there was still goodness in the world. If even a Messiah of the Eternal Flame could smile like that, could look at Gertrude with those deep and unfathomable eyes, then maybe all of Gertrude’s efforts weren’t for nothing. 

The room was white. No, not white - just covered in long, ropy strands of spider-web. Different shapes and sizes, different lengths and thicknesses. Some of it was wispy and gentle, like cotton fluff, while some of it was closer to rope. It wasn’t arranged in a spider’s beautiful pattern, an elegant nest: it was more like an explosion, as if it was thrown anywhere and everywhere without regard. 

The webs didn’t cover everything in the room. A bed was clearly visible, draped with webs as it was. There was a closet, and several boxes stacked in the corner with loose clothing draped over them. That was every piece of furniture and personal item in the room. It was a minor miracle that the living and dining rooms didn’t have more spidersilk in them - a testament to Agnes and Gerry’s tidiness, or a sign that the inhabitant rarely left the room. 

The inhabitant of the room was curled on the bed. It - he, perhaps? - was sitting upright against the wall, knees curled up against a chest, forehead resting on the knees. He was half-obscured by webs, but Gertrude could immediately tell that the figure wasn’t very old. Gerard’s age, or perhaps a bit younger. 

The webs did little to obscure the four arms - two flesh, two hinged and black and hairy - curled around the boy’s body. 

The boy didn’t look up when he saw her. Gertrude wondered if he even noticed. She was only just beginning to wonder what the thumps were when one of the spider arms lashed out and crashed against the wall, shaking the room. 

Hm. This was Gertrude’s first Web Avatar, but if they all looked and acted like this then she could only assume that they would be much more obvious than they are. New, then. Maybe as new as those identities Agnes had applied for. 

Normally she’d torch it and go home, but with both Agnes and Gerard in residence that option was out of the question. Her curiosity had been satisfied: she could turn around now and leave the room, knowing what it was Agnes and Gerard were protecting. She could let the inhabitants of this flat fade into obscurity, secure in the knowledge that none of them wished to harm her or the world. 

But Gertrude was a bit too curious for her own good, or perhaps a bit too soft, because she found herself stepping forward.

Her low-heeled boots didn’t slide on the web, but it did stick. When she lifted her feet they tracked up thin spiderweb, and she resolved to burn this outfit once she made her way back to the Archives. After a few breathless moments, Gertrude found herself standing in front of the boy, who hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. Poor situational awareness. He’d fit in well with Gerard. 

“Jonathan.”

The boy looked up at her, and anybody else would have bit back a scream. 

He had eight eyes - black, glistening, unreal. Bulbous and unsettling, they skittered and twitched in strange directions, as if uncertain how to work or how to see. New, brand-new. Uncontrolled. The boy’s mouth parted in slight surprise, but it was obviously difficult to read any sort of expression. 

He didn’t say anything. Gertrude found herself absently wondering if spiders had tongues. 

“Do you know what is happening to you?” 

The boy stared at her, long enough that Gertrude found herself wondering if he still clung to sentience, before slowly nodding his head. Good. 

“Then you know how to stop it,” Gertrude said sharply, and the boy sat up straighter. “Stop moping about, now. Look around. You’ve destroyed your room.” She gave the boy a moment to look around, expression still inscrutable, before she went back on the attack. “You’ve sulked long enough. Put away those arms, now. Go on.”

The boy stared at her, coarse black spider arms twitching and curling. 

“You know what’s happening,” Gertrude said firmly. “It’s your body. Not theirs. It’s your body, Jonathan. Bend it to your will. Not theirs.”

Slowly, disgustingly, the arms began to recede. They slid back inside his torso, sucking into his ribcage, shifting and clicking and chittering, until there was nothing left but an ordinary chest. Gertrude was even now able to recognize his shirt. It was one of Gerard’s. Green Day. 

“Your eyes now. Come on, hurry up. I haven’t got all day.”

The eyes pulsed and twitched, bubbling strangely. One of them whirred, glistening with a thousand fractals. 

The boy opened his mouth, and garbled speech came out. “I can’t...I can’t…”

“You have no choice. You must, so you will. Come on, Jonathan. Listen to me. It’s your body. It’s not theirs.”

The eyes melted back into Jonathan’s face, and that was so disgusting Gertrude politely looked up. She had seen worse, but no point in subjecting herself to it. When she looked back down she was shocked to see, for all appearances, a teenage boy. 

He had a thin, severe face, and large cloudy grey eyes. His hair was curly and matted, and despite his posture Gertrude could tell that he was the kind of short and built that was straining up against an imminent growth spurt. His skin was a light brown, with thin lips and features that suggested mixed ancestry. He looked very much like a regular, if somewhat striking, teenage boy. 

“There you go,” Gertrude said, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Who the fuck are you,” the rude child said. 

“Jon!”

She had been so focused on Jonathan, that she hadn’t noticed when Gerard and Agnes entered. Gerard practically jumped onto Jonathan’s bed, mindless of the spiderwebs, and folded him into a tight hug. Jonathan clung back desperately. 

“Don’t worry us like that,” Agnes said. She had appeared at Gertrude’s elbow, and moved forward to sit on Jon’s other side and give him a tight hug too that he returned just as fiercely. She looked up at Gertrude over Jon’s shoulder and mouthed ‘thank you’ to her, which she waved away. It had hardly been anything. 

“I think I’m rather owed a full explanation now,” Gertrude said pointedly. “And I think young Jonathan needs a bath.”

“What? No, I -” Jonathan separated from Gerard, and sniffed his shirt. He pulled a disgusted face. “Ew. Yeah, okay.”

******

They did not give her the full story. Gertrude wasn’t sure what she was expecting.

Oh, they gave her the broad strokes of it. All three of them were ‘old friends’, despite one of them being sixty and the other two being actual teeangers. Gerard and Agnes, especially, gave off the air of having known each other for years. They both seemed less familiar with Jon, though no less affectionate. Gertrude felt like she was trying to put together a puzzle with mittens and no idea what the final image would be. 

“I’ve been keeping an eye on Jon for a while,” Agnes said apologetically. They were all sitting around the rickety kitchen table now. Gertrude passed her teacup to reheat, which she did with a smile, and Gerard was at the door accepting the pizza from a confused deliveryman. Judging from the amount of takeaway containers, these two hadn’t been doing a lot of cooking. “He ran away from his grandmother’s a month ago. He made it to London and lived on the streets for a few weeks until I finally tracked him down. He’s been staying with us ever since.”

“When Agnes got in contact with me and told me that she found Jon, I figured it was time to bounce.” Gerard put some plates on the table and slid the pizza box into the center. Agnes eagerly grabbed the pizza and put a slice on her own plate. At Gerard’s look, Gertrude held up a hand in a ‘no thank you’ motion, and he shrugged. “Agnes has been trying to get me to stay with her since she lost her cult, but I figured I would just ditch Mum once I hit eighteen. Then...stuff happened...and I don’t really trust Agnes alone with a teenager anyway, so I left. Easy.”

“Thank goodness she’s only left alone with two teenagers now,” Gertrude said. She glanced at Agnes, who seemed unrepentant. “Is anybody looking for Jonathan?”

She shook her head. “Parents long dead. His Gran...she won’t look for him. Nobody will. I doubt any of them remember he exists. ”

“Did Jonathan make sure of that?”

Abruptly, Gerard looked very uncomfortable, but Agnes just nodded calmly. “Yes, likely.” At Gertrude’s ticked eyebrow, she continued, “She’s alive. But Jon...he’s convincing. We think. So far as we can tell. Nobody’s going to be looking for him, even the police.”

“Did we tell you how he was getting money while he was on the streets?” Gerard asked gleefully. “Apparently he can walk up to Canary Wharf bankers and convince them he’s their cousin visiting from out of state and ask them for spending money. They just believe him! Isn’t that wicked?”

“It’s easy. All you gotta do is make them feel guilty for forgetting you were coming.”

Jonathan, dripping wet from the shower and dressed in some cleaner hand-me-downs, appeared in the doorway. He walked forward until he was leaning against the kitchenette wall, accepting the pizza Gerard quickly passed to him. Clean and human, he looked like any other teenager. The only thing that revealed him for what he was were his eyes: empty, lifeless, and dull. 

“Hey, you’re still human!” Gerard said, perking up. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, tons.” Jonathan masticated his pizza, grease dripping down his chin. He locked eyes with Gertrude, who was careful not to blink as she stared back at him. “Who’re you?”

“The Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute,” Gertrude said crisply. “Gertrude Robinson.”

Jonathan’s mouth slowly fell open, revealing the primordial mass of globby cheese. Gerard was nearly bouncing in his seat, mouthing ‘It’s her!’ over and over again. 

“I told him about you,” Agnes said quickly - so quickly that it could have only been a lie. “Only good things, believe me!”

“I’m sure.”

“Wait,” Jonathan said, eyes darting back and forth between Agnes and Gertrude - who, Gertrude was somewhat embarrassed to find, were sitting somewhat close. “She’s the girl -”

“Girl who helped me get those new IDs for you guys,” Agnes said desperately. “Although she’s more of a woman. Say thank you, boys.”

Both boys mumbled thank-yous through mouthfuls of pizza. 

“How did it happen?” Gertrude asked Jonathan carefully. She was careful to keep that - pressure off her words. Very few reacted well to it, and she didn’t want to deal with a rampaging spider teenager again. “Your transformation. And don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Jonathan sassily made a show of swallowing the whole mouthful of pizza before he spoke. “I trapped my entire secondary school in a nightmare web where they all got turned into flies and eaten by spiders,” he drawled. “Oh, wait. I got bitten by a radioactive spider and ran away to London to fight crime.”

Gertrude gave him a very, very unimpressed stare. Jonathan smashed more pizza in his face. For a boy that must have been raised by his grandmother, he had no manners. 

A grandmother that he had likely done something to, to guarantee that she wouldn’t look for him. To ensure that an entire town wouldn’t search for him. Wiping a life off the map like that - what kind of teenager would do that without a second thought? 

A boy who found himself turning into a monster, fleeing the people he could hurt so he could reconvene with friends that understood?

Or a newly born monster that shed its old skin the minute it could?

Gertrude, as a younger woman, would have tended towards the latter. As an even younger woman, a child, she would have said the former. Now, she knew better than anyone how it could be both: a boy’s motivations propelled by a monster’s impulses, until even limbs of flesh were puppeted by silken threads. 

The Web was the fear of manipulation and being controlled, Gertrude repeated to herself, a mantra so familiar that it had worn grooves in her mind long ago. Jonathan had already proved adept at the art: swindling money to survive, erasing the imprints that a life left behind. 

Was she being controlled now? Was it any coincidence, that Jonathan ran into the arms of the one supernatural force in England that Gertrude wouldn’t shoot on sight? That he was lying in wait with the disappeared son of two people who had once been prominent in Gertrude’s life, a little boy she had seen grown up into a kind man despite all odds? 

Jonathan had inserted himself neatly, cleanly, and absolutely into Gertrude’s life. And he had done it almost even without her noticing. 

Of course, it was also the nature of the Web to make one ask these questions. It wasn’t just controlling - it was the fear of being controlled. By even thinking about this, Gertrude was playing straight into his hands -

“Gertrude.”

It was Agnes, sitting by her, looking at her with a softly sad expression. Her hands were in her lap, but they were twitching as if she wanted to reach out and take Gertrude’s hands in her own. They would be so different - they had always been different - but occasionally it felt as if whatever warmth they carried was the only heat that warmed Gertrude at all anymore. 

“If you don’t trust him, trust me.” Something flickered deep in Agnes’ eyes, like a hearth. Maybe that was Agnes: a hearth, house and home. “You can trust me.”

“Can I?” Gertrude asked, mouth unexpectedly dry. “How can someone like me trust someone like you, Agnes?”

Agnes smiled, baring teeth white and perfect as wax. “There’s nobody on Earth like you, Gertrude. You know that just as well as I do.”

Both boys had their hands slapped over their eyes, horrified. 

Maybe that was what convinced Gertrude: not Agnes’ promise of a safe place to rest in a tumultuous and dangerous world, but the fact that both these boys found that promise horrendously yucky. It wasn’t human - Gertrude had the feeling that no emotion from Jonathan could truly be human - but at least it was benign. In this world, sometimes that was the best you could ask for. 

“Fine. I put them in your charge, then, Agnes.” Gertrude drained the rest of her tea, eyeing the leaves critically in her cup as the boys whooped and Agnes exhaled heavily. Her tea leaves read a bad omen. That was comforting: she liked to know what was ahead of her. “If I hear any statements about a strange boy swindling businessmen out of their salaries then I’ll know exactly who is responsible. Am I understood?”

“They weren’t missing it,” Jonathan grumbled, before Gerard elbowed him in the side. “Fine! Fine, you won’t hear anything about it.”

Not what she had said, but she’d take it. The supernatural was at its least dangerous when it felt scared and hidden. Nothing was more dangerous than an Avatar who felt themself above human laws and rules. Or, at best, Gertrude. 

They never tended to live long. 

“Uh. Ms. Gertrude.” Gerard awkwardly creased his greasy napkin, expression tight. “Are you going to tell Mum?”

“Tell her what?” Gertrude asked archly. “I hardly think what Gerard Montague does is any of Mary Keay’s business.” As Gerard broke out into a relieved smile, Gertrude added, “Don’t give me any reason to charge after you, Gerard. You’re impulsive and reckless. Your mother’s kept you safe from yourself so far, but you’ve decided that you no longer need that protection. Don’t make me regret keeping my mouth shut.”

Jonathan snickered, ignoring Gerard’s flush. “Whipped.”

“I’ll speak to you outside, Jonathan.”

This time it was Gerard’s turn to snicker as Jonathan flushed and straightened away from the wall. “You’re in trou-ble!”

Good lord. This was why she hadn’t had children. 

But he followed her out the flat anyway. The flat complex was smaller, just a few buildings connected by sidewalks and catwalks, and the flats opened into the fresh air. As they emerged onto the first story, Gertrude let Jon lean against the railing and turn his head towards the sun. The wind blew softly, and Jon exhaled softly as he closed his eyes. Issues controlling a human form meant that he likely hadn’t been outside very often lately. 

“Tastes weird,” Jonathan decided finally, as if they had both been waiting solely for his judgement. “Air back home always tasted like salt. Everything was fresh and clean. It wasn’t anything like dirty, smoggy London.”

“Go back home, then.”

Jonathan snorted bitterly. He had turned his back to Gertrude, leaning on the railing to stick his head out. As if she wasn’t a threat. “Can’t. Gran doesn’t know I exist anymore. Trust me, nobody’s missing me back home.”

“How can that be? There must be school records, any kind of documentation. You must have known dozens of people.”

“Ah, that’s the genius of it.” Jon turned around, grinning lazily at her. He leaned against the railing, elbows back and resting on top of the metal frame. “All I needed to do was implant a few strategic suggestions. Just on the people who interacted with me the most, or the people most responsible for me. Gran, Mr. Heathcliff, Ms. Robbins, Dr. Yung.” He wriggled his fingers experimentally - like a magician doing a magic trick, or a puppeteer pulling strings. “Every time someone asks them where I am, they tell them that I never existed. And, you, know, wouldn’t they know? Jon’s Gran would know if Jon existed or not. So they doubt themselves too. Maybe Jon was never here, not really. Maybe he was just...a faint dream. The kind you forget the moment you wake up.”

“And the papers?”

Jon shrugged. “A person’s in charge of those papers. Ms. Hastings, school secretary. When she sees my student file, she’s going to ask my headmaster about it. And he’s going to say - who? And she’ll remember that I was nobody to remember at all. And those papers will become just so much garbage. When the cop, the government clerk, whoever, remembers that there’s no Jonathan to remember, that’s it.” Jon grinned at her, a proud kid showing her a perfect score on a report card.  “Anything is beatable, Ms. Gertrude, if there’s human error involved. You can build the most perfect machine in the world, but so long as a human’s involved in any step of that process then it can go wrong.”

 “Did the Web tell you that?”

“My Mother trades in lots of secrets, Ms. Gertrude,” Jonathan said, and in the turn of a second his eyes hardened into beetle-black shells, black and inhuman, before he forcibly pulled them back in again. Jonathan grimaced, gritting his teeth as he kept the transformation at bay. “Sorry. Sorry. I - I don’t want to hurt anyone. I won’t. Agnes and Gerry are going to help me. I’m going to choose what kind of mo - person I am. I’m going to choose right.”

“See to it that you do.” Gertrude stepped closer, and she knew that her face was stony and cold. Revealing nothing, with no weaknesses or cracks to exploit. She had lost every weakness long ago, save one. “I know where you live, Jonathan. I know what you’re capable of - even more, I suspect, than you yourself do. Mind yourself, and I won’t have to find a solution to your problem.” She let her eyes glint, just once. “I’m very good at finding solutions, Jonathan.”

Jonathan looked away first, of course. He swallowed heavily. “Mother told me about you.”

“All good things, I’m sure,” Gertrude said dryly. 

“She says I’m not ready yet. She said we have someone else for you, but I’m not ready yet. She says I’ll be the King one day, maybe, but not today. I’m...still hatching. It’s uncomfortable. It’s so -” Something haunted flashed through Jonathan’s lifeless grey eyes, and he shivered. “It hurts. So much.”

“So I hear,” Gertrude said, no trace of sympathy in her voice. “Good day, Jonathan.”

She left Jonathan there: shivering, alone, and human for now. 

She would see him again, she knew. A frightened teenage boy who promised her that he’d be king of the Web one day was a warning sign if she’d ever heard one. But if it was a warning sign, then it was one Gertrude was meant to hear. A shake of a rattlesnake’s tail: a creature that wants to go through the energy of biting you as little as you want to be bit, so save us both the trouble. 

And maybe Jonathan’s comment, so offhand he may not even have realized that he was making it, was a warning of its own: a spider in her own camp. Who?

Agnes was waiting for her, by the Underground station. She didn’t know she got there before her. Young people moved so fast these days. She smiled and waved when she saw Gertrude, as if they both had arranged to meet there. 

“What is it now?” Gertrude asked, exhausted. “Another favor?”

“Just a thank you for helping me keep the boys safe,” Agnes said cheekily. She stepped up, carefully, brushed a kiss to Gertrude’s cheek. Gertrude, idiotically, let her. “Call me, okay? For personal reasons.”

“Maybe,” Gertrude said, to the hearth that burned low in her heart, “if it’s for personal reasons.”

It wasn’t until she was halfway home on the Underground, thinking about noting down the address of Agnes’ apartment, that she found herself wondering what the address even was. Thomas Street...No, Jackson? 144...5?

What was she trying to remember?

No matter. Getting old again. Gertrude continued making notes in her notebook, reminding herself to search for a spider’s web, as the train rattled on for home, and the warmth of a kiss lingered on her cheek. 

[soliverse]

random nct members as contestants from rupaul’s drag race

It’s just a random thought that came into my head this morning. I don’t know how big the overlap is on these two fandoms, but here ya go anyways. 

I’ll probably do the other the members or a different group too, depends on how this one is received.

genre: crack

warnings: none

word count: 448

tags: @nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet​ @nct-writers

===

Taeil

Seeing him in that Belle costume made me think that she’ll be a classic queen

Drag personality may or may not be inspired by Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, or a 1950′s housewife

Non-problematic, he just stays in his lane and minds his own business. Will definitely snap if you call him out tho

Winwin

Is one of those queens that literally just breathed but is already a fan and judges’ favorite.

Can’t, for the life of him, find himself in the bottom which make all the other queens salty

This quote is made for him: “You're perfect, you're beautiful, you look like Linda Evangelista. You're a model. Everything about you is perfect! Did you stone those tights? Oh, you're smiling! They eat her up EVERY SINGLE TIME she's on that damned stage. She ftsdbsds. She could walk out there in a fucking diaper and they'll be like: Winwin, your smile is beautiful!"

Doyoung

Is a queen that took a lot of auditions, watched every RPDR season including the other country’s version

He probably got eliminated on the first episode or in a team challenge where everyone threw him under the bus and he’s still salty about it even after a few years.

Goes on interviews and only talk about his elimination and how he’s set to fail in the first place

Yangyang

A fashion queen

The one with the best, most expensive outfits, has a whole ass designer that creates his outfits for him

Is probably friends with a lot of celebrities,

Kun

The queen that everyone calls mother, if he’s not already a house mother in the first place

Have been in the industry for too long, so he’s slaying all the challenges like its a typical Tuesday morning

Is too old for all the petty drama, so he either just sit at the background sipping tea or  just stands he’s the one that’s trying to keep peace with everyone

Ten

Is that queen who always has a beef with everybody

Will read you to filth, that’s why people are lowkey scared of him (I’m sensing a lot of Bianca in him)

Is a victim of the infamous shady rattling noises

Hendery

The stand-up queen

He just makes everyone in the room crack up, no matter what

Hands down, the winner of every snatch game/acting/commercial challenge

Jaemin

A queen that’s just done with everyone's bullshit

Joined the competition for fun and showcase his looks but is probably too introverted to be in the same room with a lot of loud mouths

Leaves the competition even if he’s doing well to save a friend (but in actuality he just hates being there and was looking for a way out)

===

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

In Your Father’s Eyes - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Lois Lane, Alfred Pennyworth, little bit of Clark Kent and Tim Drake and literally everyone Pairing: jondami Summary: Of all the things and all the experiences they thought Jon and Damian would have, it certainly wasn’t this. But they’re all better for it anyway.  A/N: A commission for the lovely @heraldofsong! I hope you enjoy it. :) They asked for a bittersweety fluffy story about the Batfam’s reactions/reminiscing to Jon and Damian having a baby. I chose the middle name ‘Charlotte’ because according to the internet it meant ‘freedom’ or ‘free’ and I felt that described an adult Jon and Damian very well. Barry went with Lois downstairs in case Jon and Damian emerged while she was gone, he could rush her back up. Also, it goes without saying, the Flashes brought Steph, Cass and Kara back from the gift shop the same way. Jon is petrified of holding or even touching the baby sometimes. He eventually gets over that. Some vibes for this fic are ‘Mango Dream’ by Afternoon Bike Ride. 

~~

It was a quiet afternoon at the manor. The warm sun peeking through the curtains. Birds chirping outside. The contented crackle of flame in the fireplace as he and Alfred each sat in a recliner reading a book.

Then Tim called.

“Conner and I are on our way to the hospital. Just about there, actually.” He said urgently. “Damian and Jon were taken there by a group of Green Lanterns.”

“What happened?” Bruce demanded, jumping from his chair as quickly as his old bones would allow him. Alfred glanced up from his novel, closing it immediately.

“That’s the thing…I…I’m not sure.” Tim offered. “I’ve already talked to Damian. He said neither of them were really hurt at all. Just that he needs us there. All of us.”

That was enough for Bruce.

Tim said he’d already called the others, and was in the process of sending Bruce the hospital coordinates. As Bruce and Alfred gathered their coats and head to the car, Bruce’s phone pinged again with a text.

I think you might want to bring your credit card.

Bruce rolled his eyes at Tim’s instruction, but checked his wallet anyway.

The hospital wasn’t in Gotham, or Metropolis, but a smaller city in between. A medium-sized research hospital that the League used often. Out of the way, but staffed with the most skilled in the world, and able to keep a secret or two.

Bruce could already see the gaggle of Green Lanterns on the roof as they pulled in to the parking lot. But judging by their relaxed body language, just like Tim had said, there was no emergency.

So what…?

Lois and Barry were in the lobby waiting for them. She smirked when she saw them, crossing her arms.

“What’s happening?” Bruce demanded. “Are the boys alright?”

“Perfect.” Lois let her smirk become a wide grin. There was a giddy shriek from nearby, and Bruce glanced over. It came from the gift shop, where he could see Stephanie holding something up, showing a confused Cass and judgmental Kara. “We were just waiting here for you to take you to the right ward.”

“Well, I must say, judging by everyone’s attitude, I can’t imagine it’s the ICU.” Alfred quipped. Barry laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Nope.” Lois spun away, all but skipping as she led the way. “Barry, you ready to catch him?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “We’re heading to the maternity ward.”

Bruce froze.

“…What?”

Barry was instantly at his shoulder, an arm hovering against his back.

“Ms. Lane…” Alfred said slowly. Laughter from the gift shop again, and now Bruce could see what Stephanie was showing the others – baby clothes.

“Wild, right?” She nodded, urging them both to follow. “But it’s true.”

“Apparently the boys were on a mission with a few of the Lanterns, on some planet.” Barry explained as he gently pushed them along. “This planet has way more advanced in vitro fertilization technology than on Earth. Than in the whole damn Milky Way. But apparently a major part of the fight was in a science lab. And I don’t know if it was from blood from injuries or sweat from exertion or what, but somehow both their DNA got into one of the machines, and literally hours later, a baby was being born.”

“An…alien child?” Alfred asked.

“You’d think that, but no. One-hundred percent Damian and Jon. So, only twenty-five percent alien, Kryptonian, from Jon’s side.” Barry hummed. “It wasn’t like their DNA was being added to an already incubating organism. Its creation came about because their DNA got combined.”

“At least,” Lois interrupted. “As far as we know. That’s why we’re here. They’re getting the baby checked out.”

Suddenly, Tim’s text made sense. “We have…nothing for a baby at the manor. Do…you and Clark have anything from when Jon was born?”

Lois’s grin softened. “Not enough to have everything they’ll need. But enough for the first day or so. Clothes-wise, anyway.”

“They’ll…they’ll have to come stay at the manor.” Bruce turned to Alfred, mind already in hyper drive. “Their…their apartment isn’t big enough. Right?”

“They live in a penthouse, sir, not an apartment.” Alfred smiled. “But I’m sure if you asked they wouldn’t mind coming home for a while. Especially with all the foot traffic of new aunts and uncles that they can surely expect.”

“You already know which room Clark and I are staying in, right, Alfred?” Lois teased.

“Of course, Ms. Lane.” Alfred chuckled. Barry suddenly dashed forward, holding the door open for the three of them. “I’m already devising the floor plans for everyone in my head as we speak.”

And even with the three women in the gift shop, the maternity ward was a madhouse of Supers, Bats and Leaguers alike. Tim was talking with Dinah and Ollie, showing them cribs and mobiles on his phone. Conner was talking with Diana, Donna and the two Wally Wests. Lois was already rejoining Clark, who was speaking with J’onn. Jason had already grabbed Alfred and was gently pulling him towards Koriand’r and Roy.

Barry was stepping up behind him. “Has Dick been…?”

Barry pointed, but it was useless, since Bruce had just spotted him. He was away from the crowds, further down the hall, staring into one of the closed doors, his arms folded across his chest.

Bruce nodded and gave Barry a short grin. Barry gently squeezed his shoulder before disappearing into their friends. Bruce inhaled and slowly walked forward. Everyone immediately gave him passing congratulations, and he smiled softly to each of them in return.

Dick didn’t look at him as he approached, kept just staring into the door. Bruce silently stood next to him, and glanced inside himself.

Damian and Jon stood there, next to a plastic crib. They were in matching teal scrubs that barely hid the few bandages they each had across their bodies. Nothing serious, like everyone had told him so far, but still enough that made his heart beat a little faster.

Jon’s wrist hung over the crib, and Bruce could see tiny fingers clinging to his middle one. His other hand was around Damian’s waist, rubbing calming circles against his hip. His head was up, nodding at whatever the doctor standing across from them and the crib was saying.

Damian, surprisingly, was opposite. His head was down, watching the child. His hand was cupping the baby’s head, stroking gently across its tuft of dark hair.

Bruce couldn’t see any other features on the baby. Its face was blocked by its fat belly and gleefully kicking feet. The hand not latched on to Jon’s waved every so often, where he could see a tube connected.

God, he couldn’t even see it and he adored this child already.

“Can you believe it?” Dick suddenly whispered. Bruce turned his head towards him, but kept his eyes on the door. He heard the baby give a loud squeal. Watched as Jon glanced down and grinned, shaking his captured finger. “Damian’s a dad.”

“So it appears.” Bruce smiled.

“He wasn’t one yesterday. There was no plan for him to be one, yesterday.” Dick continued, practically in awe. “This is…incredible.”

“The universe is an incredible place.” Bruce agreed. “…How long have you been here?”

“About an hour.” Dick admitted. “Damian called me when they hit Earth’s stratosphere.”

“Did you get to see the baby at all?” Bruce asked. In his periphery he saw Dick shake his head.

“They were already in there by the time I got here. Jon came out for a hot second to ask me to bring Lois to the ward when she arrived. But otherwise I haven’t talked to them.” Dick sighed. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. “…It’s almost laughable.”

“What is?”

“Damian’s the first of us to be a dad.” Dick smiled wistfully. “Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Need-Anybody’, Mr. ‘I’m-Not-A-Family-Person’, Mr. ‘Jonathan-and-I-Are-Too-Busy-To-Raise-Children’…and he’s the first of us to have a kid. A biological kid.”

“A biological child conceived and born in hours, from what I was told.” Bruce murmured. He chuckled. “Quite a…peculiar birth. Just like him.”

They lapsed into a silence then, as they continued to watch through the door. They could see both Damian and Jon conversing with the doctor, and suddenly, said doctor was lifting the baby from the crib, taking it out of view. The baby clung to Jon’s finger for as long as it could, even pulling a little as it was pulled away.

Almost immediately, Jon turned to Damian, and the two began to speak softly to each other. Damian’s face looked tired, nervous. Jon’s looked similar, but he smiled anyway, cupping Damian’s face in his hands. Damian clung to his wrists, closing his eyes as he leaned into one of the hands.

“…Do you remember when he was little?” Dick asked softly. “So tough and angry. I’d ruffle his hair and he’d try to cut my arm off.”

“He was a little…prickly.” Bruce smiled warmly. “Focused on nothing but Batman’s mission, and being the best. But you freed him from that viciousness.”

“I had help.” Dick laughed, watching as Jon leaned down and kissed Damian, before the two engulfed each other in an embrace. “Don’t sell yourself so short, old man.”

“Don’t sell yourself short either, Dick.” Bruce bumped his elbow into Dick’s side. “For as much as I loved him at the time anyway, much of his growth was because of you.”

“…Look at him, B.” Dick whispered after a moment. Bruce actually glanced at him now, and saw tears in his eyes. “Look how much he’s grown.”

Bruce put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, gave a squeeze as he glanced back towards the door. Damian was twenty-seven now, Jon twenty-four. Both tall and muscular, though Jon slightly more so, and both perfect mixtures of their parents. Each with their own lives, their own identities, creating their own legacies, their own destinies.

But right now all Bruce could see was the children they were. The friends forced together by their fathers, but almost instantly inseparable. The kids who were stronger than any man, and whose favorite game was to climb a life-sized replica of a tyrannosaurs rex that was nestled in a cave, and eat lunch in its mouth.

Damian said something and Jon laughed. Damian’s eyes lit up and his cheeks turned red as Jon kissed his forehead.

Bruce smiled too.

Friends from childhood. Lovers in adulthood.

And now, fathers.

Clark’s baby was a father. His baby was a father.

“I’m so proud of him.” Dick murmured, voice trembling in joy. “He’s just so happy, Bruce.”

Dick turned away, embarrassingly wiping at his eyes.

“God, don’t let him see me like this.” Dick laughed weakly. “It’ll ruin my chances of being the baby’s godfather.”

“It’s endearing.” Bruce promised, turning to look at him. “If nothing else, it’ll heighten your chances. Besides, you’ll still be its uncle no matter what.” A smirk. “And grandpa, depending on who you ask.”

“Oh god, Bruce no.” Dick laughed, wiping faster at his eyes. “I’m too young to be a grandpa.”

“How do you think I feel?” Bruce asked incredulously. “I just got told by Superman’s wife twenty minutes ago that I’m a grandfather!”

Dick looked over at him, eyes soft, the crinkles around his eyes more noticeable with his smile. “You’ll be a great one, Bruce. The very bes-”

There was the sound of a doorknob turning, a latch unhooking. Dick and Bruce both spun back around towards the door to the exam room to find it opening.

Suddenly, the whole hallway was silent, save for a light whooshing, electric noise. Clark was there instantly, Lois in his arms. Conner appeared with Tim, Jason was just finishing pushing his and Alfred’s way through the Justice Leaguers, and the Flashes were each dutifully helping Stephanie, Cassandra and Kara to their feet.

They all waited with baited breath.

It was Jon who was opening the door, and held it open for Damian to walk through. Damian, who had a swaddled bundle tight in his arms, stepped tentatively into the hallway. As soon as he was through the threshold, Jon was at his side, a protective arm around his back.

When Damian glanced up with his wide, shocked eyes – he looked at Bruce first. Then Clark, then Lois, then finally landed on Dick.

“I…” He croaked. Closed his mouth, cleared his throat. Let himself smile slightly as he returned his gaze to Bruce. “We…we have a daughter.”

He turned the baby outwards slightly. Her eyes were closed, but skin was the perfect mixture of Damian’s tan tones, and Jon’s pale colors. She had Jon’s wild curls, but very clearly Damian’s nose and eyebrows. There were immediately a few gasps and coos among the nearby Leaguers.

“Healthy?” Clark asked. “She checked out okay?”

“Completely perfect.” Jon exhaled in excitement. “Doc said she looks like every other baby he’s ever seen, all the way down to the DNA.”

“Anything about…powers?” Clark pushed.

“Dad.” Jon rolled his eyes. “She’s only a few hours old.”

“The doctor told us to monitor her as she grows, and go over your, Jon’s, Kara’s and even Conner’s personal histories.” Damian explained instead. “And if she does at any point present powers, it will likely follow the same timeline as the rest of you.”

Lois stepped forward, gently pressing her hand to the baby’s head. Like always, she asked the question everyone else was too nervous to.

“What’s her name?”

Jon and Damian glanced at each other, and Jon let out a light laugh.

“Martha.” Damian whispered, looking straight at Bruce, with a quick glance to Clark. “Martha Charlotte.”

“Hello Miss Martha Charlotte.” Lois cooed, leaning down to kiss the baby’s head. Martha just yawned, and curled back into Damian’s chest.

“Whose last name?” Dick asked gently, taking his turn to step forward. “Martha Charlotte Kent? Martha Charlotte Wayne? Hell, Martha Charlotte al Ghul?”

Damian smirked and Jon looked heavenward as he mumbled, “To be determined.”

Dick laughed as he looked between the two men. He let his laughter die out and asked, “You two nervous?”

“Is it that obvious?” Jon countered incredulously. “I mean…jeez, I’m still afraid to hold her!” He leaned into Damian’s back. “What if I…I don’t know, squish her, or something?”

“You won’t, Beloved. I promise.” Damian teased, leaning back to kiss at Jon’s cheek.

Dick smiled, and couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and pressed his temple against Damian’s, looking down at Martha. She gave a contented sigh.

“I am so, so, so proud of you, Damian.” Dick whispered, squeezing Damian’s arm. Lois nodded in agreement as she ran a hand through Jon’s hair, before returning her attention to the baby. “”I am so proud of you both.”

Damian let himself smile, let himself exhale in what almost sounded like relief as he leaned into Dick. He stood there a moment, let Dick and Lois fawn over the baby, before glancing up again. Clark was watching with a bright smile, one almost too big for his face. Waiting excitedly for his own turn, but clearly quickly losing his patience.

Then he looked to Bruce. Bruce who had just been staring silently since they stepped into the hallway, eyes wide, lips parted. A faint, awed smile was etched gently into his face, and it made Damian’s own smile widen. He slowly stepped away from Jon, Lois and Dick and towards his father, angling towards Clark in the process to include him too. “…Father?”

Bruce looked up at his face, the adoration clear in his old blue eyes.

“…I have a daughter, Father.” Damian breathed, looking towards Martha. She smacked her lips sleepily, and Damian’s smile, impossibly, grew. Let himself smile wider than Bruce had ever seen. “And I just…she is already my whole world. I…I’ve never loved someone so quickly.”

“That’s what having a child does to you, son.” Clark smiled.

Damian’s grin faltered, just slightly. “I’m sure it was not this way when I arrived in your life.”

It was a self-depreciating joke, made to downplay Damian’s importance to every single person in this hallway. But Bruce didn’t take it. Bruce didn’t dare play into the darkness that still plagued his youngest’s mind.

“On the contrary.” Bruce hummed, taking hold of his elbow. “I might have loved you even quicker.”

Damian snorted and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he just kept looking at Martha, shifting his hand to run across her tiny cheek. His voice was barely a breath. “…I have a daughter.”

“And she looks like you.” Bruce noted, poking at Martha’s nose. She scrunched it up and shook her head. Damian laughed, and held her even closer. “…I’m so happy for you.”

Damian looked up then, almost in surprise.

“You’re going to be a great father.” Bruce whispered, squeezing Damian’s elbow. “The best of any of us.”

Damian turned back towards his husband just in time to see Dick grab Jon and wrap him in the biggest hug he could. As Dick released him, Jon glanced over at him. “…And he will be an even greater one.”

Jon, who of course heard the whole conversation with his powers, grinned sheepishly.

Damian giggled as Jon stepped towards him, and kissed his forehead, then leaned down to do the same to Martha. A moment later, he allowed himself a deep breath. “Well. You ready?”

Jon glanced over his shoulder, towards their waiting brothers and sisters, to the entirety of the Justice League waiting behind them. He exhaled sharply. “As I’ll ever be, today.”

Dick laughed as he and Lois helped pushed the new parents forward. As Clark stepped closer to Bruce and hugged him in quiet glee.

“Welcome to the family, Martha.” Dick grinned, gesturing out to everyone, before looking down at the sleeping newborn in Damian’s arms. Damian and Jon looked happily at each other. “We’re so happy you’re here.”

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

I love the idea of bagginshield bingo!! I'm going to have to ask for Blacksmith Thorin :D

I thought I was never going to get this finished in time! But here we go. I do apologize, the ending is a little rushed. This gives me some interesting possibilities towards getting the bingo now. ;) Thanks for the ask and please enjoy!

Title: Reasons Why Not to Live in the Shire

Summary: Thorin is a traveling blacksmith who grudgingly travels to the Shire for work every year, but there is only one reason why he would ever decide to stay.

Hobbits. A species slightly more tolerable than men, and infinitely easier to stomach than elves. Still hobbits, with their frivolous conversations and round bellies that speak of full meals and not an ounce of hardship, made Thorin grind his teeth. Especially when they spurned Thorin’s masterpieces in well crafted hunting knives, intricate hair beads, and jewelry so fine many couldn’t believe it was iron and not silver. No, the hobbits wanted pots and pans, door locks, sometimes a wind chime, but only if it was plain. They deemed the sound quality lost if he bears too much detail. He didn’t mind that some folks had simpler tastes, if they were at least consistent with it.

His metalwork would be passed in a heartbeat if it was “too embellished”. However, Bofur’s carving skills would be the talk of the market. His pipes were top sellers for their caravan every year. Even Dori’s tea sets and weaving would catch their eyes. Hobbits. If they didn’t pay as well as they did, Thorin would have their caravan pass the Shire every year.

“You’re late this year.”

Thorin passed the reins over to his oldest nephew, Fili, before hopping down from the cart to meet with the Thain. Thorin had worked well with his father and brother before him. Isumbras Took, on the other hand, was fair, but rather curt. Of course, Thorin credited that to his advanced age. Hobbits, much like the dwarven royalty, passed on the title of Thain through the males of their line with no abdication except in death. Yet, they tried to argue that the position wasn’t that of a king. Isumbras has only been Thain for four years and looked days away from passing the title onto his son, Fortinbras, which is why Thorin figured the gentlehobbit was accompanying him today. The business of training heirs and ruling ‘kingdoms’ were tasks he was thankful would never have to be his.

“You’ll have to excuse us. We had a death in the family this year.” Thorin explained somberly.

It had been a mining accident. Vili, Dis’ husband, was taking on some extra work while they were in Ered Luin, and a tunnel collapsed on him. She and the boys were devastated. Thorin had considered the man a brother and was hurt by the recent loss. Normally, they would have arrived in the Shire by summer’s end, but he couldn’t begrudge his family their time to mourn. The Thain nodded sympathetically.

“I understand the sentiment. My sister, Belladonna, passed away this spring as well. The white plague. It took her husband eight years prior as well. Left poor little Bilbo up on the Hill all by himself, but he’s a resourceful lad. Seems to be doing just fine, even if he is a little thinner.”

Thorin listened to the hobbit ramble about his family, nodding along appropriately. That was the other thing about hobbits. They were practically all related, and would spout stories about each other as if Thorin was expected to know exactly who they were talking about.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Thorin stated.

The Thain nodded his appreciation as he looked over Thorin’s papers of commerce, allowing their caravans the right to sell in the Hobbiton marketplace.

“I know your lot tries to clear out after about two weeks, but you ought to consider staying through the Harvest Festival. I’m sure a little extra coin will more than make up for your late start.” Isumbras encouraged.

“And Bilbo’s birthday.” Fortinbras pointed out.

“Yes! The lad is turning 44! A good grounded year.” Isumbras nodded eagerly.

Thorin nodded politely, feeling his attention begin to wane. 

“We will consider your offer. Thank you for your hospitality.” Thorin spoke the practiced words as he jumped back onto the wooden bench.

Isumbras and Fortinbras waved at them as they urged the ponies forward on the well traveled lane.

“Can we stay for the hobbits’ festival?” Kili asked eagerly from the back. “I’ve never been to one.”

“I’m sure it’s like every other festival we’ve been to.” Thorin grumbled.

“How can we know for sure if we don’t go?” Fili interjected with a smirk.

Thorin rolled his eyes at his nephews’ playful attitudes, pleased to see them smiling once more. Which is why he couldn’t outright deny them.

“I will consider it.” He sighed.

The two cheered and immediately began chatting about what could possibly happen at a hobbit festival that would be different from the dwarven and mannish festivals they had been to beforehand. They came up with eating competitions, sleeping contests, and jumping contests due to their large feet. Thorin merely shook his head as he worked on tuning them out.

The Company had already pulled into their usual spots and were hard at work setting up their displays as Thorin and the boys crested the hill. Their group was made up of five individual families, each with a different craft. However, after so many years on the road together, they were one big family at this point.

There was Bombur with his wife and children, and they would sell dwarvish pastries and tarts. Thorin was assured those weren’t the same thing. His brother, Bofur, and cousin, Bifur, were wood carvers. Bofur tended to focus on the practical end of furniture options and pipes while Bifur loved to create toys for the little ones. The next family was Dori and his brothers. Dori usually tended to keep Nori close by to keep the former thief out of trouble, but Ori worked with Balin selling books, quills, parchment, and inks. 

Gloin, with his brother, wife, and son, were the hunters in their group and sold off what they couldn’t eat. Oils from the fat that his wife somehow managed to scent with different kinds of flowers. Furs and leather also came from their stand, and Oin tended an apothecary. That left Thorin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili to man the forge while Dis handled their sales. It saved Thorin from having to talk to the hobbits personally which tended to work out better for everyone involved. 

It took them the rest of the day to get settled in, and Thorin could see some of the hobbits passing by with their curious, yet suspicious stares. The gossip mill ran so fast here, he was certain they would have a line of customers by the next morning. There were three peak times in a hobbit market, and they all revolved around their meal times. The morning rush would happen between first and second breakfasts, the midday would be right before tea time as they wandered out of their smials to socialize, and the final one would happen right before supper.

Right on cue, as soon as the sun’s rays touched the earth, here came the hobbits to check out their wares. Even from the back of the forge, Thorin could hear their grumblings about how they were late this year, and how inconsiderate it was to keep them waiting. He knew he would have blown up at somebody by this point, and he could only thank Mahal for Dis’ patience to be able to handle the ridiculous and fussy creatures.

“Oh Thorin! I think you’ll want to handle our next customer.” Dis teased.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at her looking up from the bent pan he was trying to hammer back into shape. He didn’t talk to hobbits unless… He screwed up his face in exasperation even as he rushed towards the front of the stand. So maybe not all hobbits were bad. In fact, there had been a young lad and his mother who had always been very appreciative of Thorin’s crafting. 

When the dwarrows first started appearing in the Shire marketplace, the lad was barely of age. He was lean, something unusual for a hobbit, and had a boundless amount of mischievous energy. In fact, that was what endeared him to Fili and Kili. The three would sneak off to the pubs or down to the river as soon as the Company pulled into town. Over the years, Master Baggins tempered out, but his hazel eyes still screamed for adventure. In fact, with as much as the other hobbits tended to watch him with judging eyes and mockingly disappointed whispers, he figured the only reason the lad hadn’t run off into the wilderness yet was his mother.

Misses Baggins had probably the kindest heart of any being Thorin had ever met. She greeted them not only with respect, but as if they were old friends dropping by for a visit. A few years back, she had commissioned Thorin for a set of silver spoons, and had asked for his very best work. She wanted her dining set to be ‘the envy of Hobbiton’. It was the first time he had truly poured his heart into a project in the Shire, and it was well worth the effort when her face lit up at the sight of her spoons. He had etched flowing vines and leaves in the handle of each spoon with a little acorn sitting at the end.

She made it a point to brag on his spoons every time they came back. It got to the point where the rest of the Company teased him into bribing her for compliments. However, Misses Baggins was quick to point out how credit is only given where credit is due. There was not a hobbit that didn’t seem to at least respect Misses Baggins, and as for her son, he absolutely adored her.

As the golden haired hobbit picked his way through the market, Thorin couldn’t help but notice there was something vastly different about him from their last visit. He never greeted a single person, be they dwarf or hobbit, unless he was spoken to first. Even from this distance, Thorin could tell his reply was curt and impersonal, his smile polite but forced. Sympathetic, but approving, eyes from the masses followed Master Baggins as he slowly made his way to the forge. 

Thorin watched him, unsure of how to greet him. Much to his sister and nephews teasing, there had always been an attraction, at least from the young hobbit’s end. Of course Thorin was an old dwarf, and did his best to dissuade his affections. However, as the years went by, Thorin learned there was a difference between hobbits and dwarrows in terms of age. He watched as Master Baggins transcended young adulthood pushing into the maturity of middle age. Then one summer, two years ago, Thorin was watching Master Baggins sitting out on his front porch smoking his pipe in the dying like of the sunset, and it hit him. He had never seen anyone so beautiful in all his life.

It had been a sobering moment, and one he still didn’t know quite what to do with. Did the young hobbit still hold to his childhood crush or had that died in the wake of his maturity? Was it something Thorin should even pursue or would his mother frown upon such a relationship? Perhaps his greatest shame, how was he to court someone when he couldn’t remember their first name.

“Good morning, Master Baggins.” Thorin finally called out as soon as the hobbit was close enough.

“Hmm?” The hobbit questioned, clearly distracted before putting on that forced smile once more. “Good morning, Mister Thorin. We certainly missed you this summer. I hope everything is okay?”

Thorin knew he was staring at the hobbit’s abnormal pale complexion and listless expression, but once he brought up their tardiness, Thorin ducked his head.

“We lost Vili earlier this year.” Thorin confessed knowing the hobbit had been close with the boys’ father.

He hadn’t expected his entire demeanor to fall. His body slumped, and his eyes looked haunted and lifeless.

“I’m...so sorry. My condolences.” He whispered. “Please excuse me.”

Thorin watched as he picked his way back up the hill as if in a hurry. Fili and Kili poked their heads out in confusion.

“What’s wrong with Bilbo?” Kili questioned.

“I’m not sure, he...Bilbo?” Thorin spun around on them.

Fili glared at Kili who was looking sheepish. Thorin wanted to be irritated that they had known his first name the whole time and didn’t tell him, but he was more focused on the name itself. Where had he heard the name Bilbo recently? The Thain’s conversation came rushing back and dread seeped into his very soul. Thorin didn’t think as he hopped the counter rushing past the suspicious and bewildered hobbits to get to Bag End.

Thorin pounded on the bright green door, the hobbit’s long sought name falling easily from his lips. Bilbo’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion when he finally answered the door, a surprise gasp on his lips upon seeing Thorin. The dwarf only took in his red cheeks and watery eyes before pulling him into a hug. Bilbo was limp in his grasp before folding his arms tightly around Thorin’s torso. His body shook like a leaf, and Thorin’s tunic slowly began to develop wet spots. He could care less. 

“It’s okay, Bilbo. I’m so sorry.” He soothed as the hobbit clinged to him like his life depended on it.

“You figured it out.” His shaky voice huffed. “Fili and Kili will be so disappointed. They were making bets on when you would ask after my first name.”

Thorin rolled his eyes over the top of Bilbo’s head before burying his nose deeper in the hobbit’s wild curls. He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head making sure Bilbo knew that he had people to care for him. He would take care of his infuriating nephews later. When Bilbo finally pulled away, Thorin wouldn’t say he looked better, but his eyes at least looked less lifeless.

“What can I do?” Thorin asked as he rubbed the tear stains on Bilbo’s cheeks with his thumbs.

The hobbit bit his lip, unable to look Thorin in the eye as his ears turned pink.

“I...No, I couldn’t…”

“Bilbo.” Thorin cut off his ramblings. “Anything.”

“Stay.” Bilbo whispered, ducking his head in shame at requesting such a thing.

Thorin sucked in a deep breath before releasing it.

“Done.”

“What?” Bilbo questioned in shock.

“I said done.” Thorin repeated with a small amount of amusement.

“But...your family?” Bilbo murmured.

“They know the way to Erebor well enough at this point, and they have each other to lean on. You clearly need me more here, so I will stay.”

For a moment, Bilbo looked like the young lad he had met all those years ago. Then his face broke out in a bright smile before launching himself back into Thorin’s arms. The dwarf laughed as he held tight to the hobbit. His hobbit who knew good food and hardships. He would suffer the Shire for the rest of his life for him. He knew? Perhaps, he could persuade Bilbo to make the journey with them next year. For now, Bilbo was all the reason he needed to stay.

[bakatenshii]

Katsuki x Leese HCs

I uhhh have no excuses for this. This turned out so much longer than expected and I just?? Hope you don’t lose too many braincells hehe Inspired by our mutual obsession love for the Yakuza. For @lookslikeleese 3.5k! U make my kokoro doki doki ♡︎ \٩(๑`^´๑)۶/ ♡︎

So we all know Weese Leese as this saint, an angel sent from above, a pure soul that could do no wrong.

Leese, who puts up with our spamming, random bursts of thirst at 4am, answering everyone with nothing less than kind words straight out of a self-help book.

The reincarnation of Mother Theresa herself, if you will (minus the controversial problematic part)

Except I’m bout to blow your mind right now, cue the big TRIGGER WARNING: MIND BLOWING INFO AHEAD:

She’s a bit of a closet brat. No, not the kind that’s outwardly sassy, she’s just not a pushover. And maybe a lil stubborn.

Especially if someone who has no right to challenge her is speaking down to her.

See: 6’3, beeg beefy undercut Katsuki

Katsuki, who’s patrolling his district in the Kabukicho, making sure no one’s doing illegal business in his area, his property

He probably didn’t need two bodyguards with him, he could handle himself just fine. (He doesn’t know that they were just there to keep him in line, make sure he doesn’t blow up a hostess club because a man walked in who looked like Deku)

But it was a spectacle to see either way, three massive tatted men storming down the rowdy streets like it’s nobody’s business— (soon there might be none left if they keep scaring the fucking customers away)

Don’t get impatient, we’ll tie them together somehow I promise, and no they’re not going to fight over spilt boba this time

(Or any mugging of any kind, though that’s a good fuckin trope that I will shamelessly re-use)

Weese Leese is walking home from work, and sees some sketchy men in a dingy alleyway in sunglasses and suits— she knew right away that they were Top Tier suspy

I mean, if the way they were trying to coerce an innocent-looking girl in school uniform didn’t already give it away, the sunglasses at 8pm definitely did the job.

So Weese Leese took her whole Mother Theresa, Thou Shalt Not Hurt an Innocent Girl (pls no one religious attack me please) ass over

Because she’s too good for this world, honestly

Can’t help but jump in to try and help someone in potential danger, she knew it all too well herself.

Of course the men flip out, screaming at her to fuck off or take the poor girl’s spot

(for the sake of this AU we’re going to pretend that either we all speak fluent anime Japanese or it’s in English, plotholes be damned)

This is when Big Boss Katsuki comes marching in, wide as the alleyway itself, and—

Doesn’t come to Weese Leese’s aid, SIKE yall thought he was gonna be a knight in shining armour?

Nah, he’s pissed that a random woman is sticking her nose in somewhere she doesn’t belong

There’s a lot of ‘aniki’s and ‘oyabun’s and ‘kumicho’s going around, and Weese Leese has seen enough Yakuza movies fantasized about enough tatted men with missing pinkies to understand that she fucked up

Sort of.

This 200lbs of pure muscle of a man is the Head of Some Family, probably, and like, yeah, realistically she should be flittering in fear, but the only thing she’s getting are fanny flutters (alliteration or whatever, we out here)

BUT how much she wants to fuck this man still doesn’t excuse the fact that his subordinates were trying to force a (most-likely) underage girl into fuck-knows-what

So when Katsuki, in true aggressive on-brand fashion, practically roars out a

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, woman? Stay in your lane, this is my business”

She actually, to everyones surprise, retorts:

“Maybe teach your subordinates to use their brains a lil and pick out someone who’s not clearly underage and still in uniform next time, then.”

So now we’re back to the beginning, end of the: record scratch, freeze frame, ‘Yup, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I got here’ sequence

Told you it’d all tie together, sans-boba

Back to the show:

Katsuki’s fucking shocked, kinda impressed, but mostly pissed off that some ‘stupid woman’ is talking back to him telling him how to run his business

Weese Leese is… kind of terrified, mostly turned on though, because her brain’s wiring must’ve gotten tangled when she turned into this alleyway.

Sucks for him because she had a point, and Katsuki’s not fucking blind— he can see the uniform clearly on this stupid girl’s body.

They deal with it some Yakuza way, I’ll spare yall the details and me the work of doing research and writing more nonsensical irrelevant waffle (because weese has the attention span of a 3 year old and doesn’t like long drawn out narratives boohoo)

Cut scene back to Katsuki, his two irrelevant bodyguards, and Weese Leese, stood alone in the alleyway.

He’s fuming because she’s demanding an apology for his attitude, his bodyguards are only slightly worried they might have to repave the alleyway (again), and Weese Leese is…

scanning any sliver of exposed skin for some yummy scary tattoos

Long story short, one long passive aggressive (from Leese’s end), straight up aggressive (from Katsuki’s end), argument later, he swallows his pride and offers her a drink at a local bar he owns as a means of apology.

because he’s not saying those words

(also to flex, he’s a proud bastard, he is)

We’ve all read Weese Leese’s hcs about drunk! Leese right? So we know how bold she is?

And how touchy she is and how her brain-to-mouth filter takes a holiday on a Caribbean island so she’s spouting shit like ‘show me your tattooooooos’ and not noticing how he’s blushing in response?

Drunk! Leese gets too drunk, and conveniently loses her keys (she just can’t find them, dont worry we’re not losing deposit money here) so in true Josei manga fashion, he takes her to a hotel 

(THAT HE OWNS, HE OWNS EVERYTHING, OYABUN KATSUKI COMING THROUGH)

Because he can’t take her back to his, obviously. Not only is that embarrassing but also dangerous.

(Not that he cares what happens to her, obviously)

Stupid fucking tsundere

Do they diddle the do at the hotel? You decide, but they definitely diddle the do the next morning when she wakes up, sees him splayed on the bed on his stomach and she absentmindedly traces over the back-piece he’s got.

Yeah, he’s for a back-piece. It’s entirely self-indulgent, I don’t care. He’s also got all ten of his fingers because I say so.

And he wakes up with a raging boner mighty need and a half naked girl in his bed caressing the muscles on his back and

BLEEP

Insert censor bar here.

He doesn’t admit that he likes her, of course he doesn’t. Do you even know how tsunderes work?

He just thinks she’s nice, and comforting, let’s him be loud and angry all he wants, but can also stand her own ground and so, so lovely fun to be around. She’s great company, that’s all.

The head of a house needs a woman to play around with, right? That’s what all his shateis say (see: Yakuza term for younger brothers)

So what if they don’t buy their women flowers, take them to fancy dinners at restaurants they own, pound them against the penthouse windows of hotels they own, and begrudgingly take hot soaks in the fancy marble bathtubs the morning after.

He’s just better than them, that’s all.

He’s always the best at what he does, always has to be #1, so courting a woman shouldn’t be any different.

It’s not until his shateis poke fun at how soft he’s become and asks him when he’s inviting her to move in when he realizes—

fuck.

He’s in too deep.

But there’s something special about fucking his woman on the ancient tatami flooring of the house, (he’d only had to replace two holes, so he’s doing alright to be fair) 

Or outside on the wooden planks of the hallway, legs pushed down to her ears as he plows her in front of the judging eyes of the Koi fish in the Japanese garden.

Or having her parade around in clothes he chooses for her, proudly displaying her as his. And so they live happily ever after, Yakuza movie style.

They might pop out an heir within the next two years, but that’s all for the better, right? Gotta continue the bloodline and whatnot.

edit: weese made a picrew with yakuza! katsuki