#to be clear this about silly lil texts

[napping-sapphic]

life is about your best friend sending you random texts that make you believe in love again

[cvnt4him]

How about, instead of walking in on your husband Izuku jerking off, we have you walking in on your best friend Izuku jerking off by accident, cause you were supposed to watch a movie together :)

I like the way you think nonnie/nonnette<33

It's been a while since I've written an actual fic!!!! I enjoyed this

When izuku, your best friend, texted you asking you to come over his to watch a movie you were over the moon. You'd missed your bestie so much and hadn't seen him in so long! He went to some super fancy schmancy college called yuei, it was like supposedly the best college yk like Yale n Harvard n shit.

He was back in town and you didn't know until JUST now. What kind of best friend is he?! He was back in town for a week and hadn't told you? Come on. Of course you were going, you missed him and there was no way in hell you weren't gonna see him.

He was gonna get one hell of a pout though! On your way over to his house you thought about getting him something from the local corner store, y'know just as a welcome back gift. You fiddled with your charm bracelet that had both of your initials on it as you chewed on your lower lip and stared at the window.

You knock on izukus door with a bag of gummy worms, when he was younger he had an odd fascination with finding bugs in the dirt and became infatuated with gummy worms and their brand. They were so sour yet so sweet, he enjoyed them last time you remembered.

Izuku opens the door rather quickly with an expressionless face up until he seen yours. That silly little pout that you'd practiced all night for. His smile was bright and warm before he seen that little pout on your face, his smile turning into a mischievous smirk.

“ well, are you gonna come inside or are y’just gonna sit there with that adorable lil’ pout on your face?”

Oh. Suddenly you felt your cheeks warming, you look up to him n see a little smirk painting his features. Had he always been this sexy, and this... tall? He leaned on the door frame one arm above him and the other on the door handle before he moved out of the way to let you inside.

You swallowed hardly and walked past him, you looked up to him seeing the way his eyes followed you watching you very closely. You went straight to the couch and took a seat on the very edge. Izuku closed the door and walked over to you, with a small chuckle as he sat next to you, scooting back and putting his arm on the edge of the couch.

“ whaddya wanna watch, bug?”

Your breath hitched at the nickname. You hadn't heard it in so long, he had been gone for over 3 years. He gave you the name when you were kids, you would help him find bugs wherever you could, you never wanted to touch them so you always used a stick.

“ uh.. whatever is uh, fine.”

You say as you stammer on your words and hand him the snack you brought him, he was controlling the TV with the remote before the crinkling of the bag caught his attention, his wide eyes turned down to look at the bag in your hand before he turned to look at you. His eyes blinking a few times before he smiled.

“ ‘s for me bug? thank you!”

Izuku took the bag and held your hand whilst it was still in it, his bright smile returning with a chuckle. He took the bag and pulled you into a tight hug, you groaned and held him back his smell was intoxicating and mesmerizing. It was so pungent and left a big strong impact. Once he pulled away he patted your head and turned back towards the TV putting on some random movie.

“ so uh.. how long do you plan on staying?”

You spoke trying to clear the silence despite the moving being on. He didn't answer right away, not looking at you ad he gathered an answer.

“ well I've already been here for about 2 weeks and— ”

“ TWO WEEKS?!”

TWO. WEEKS. he's been here for TWO WEEKS and he didn't think about contacting you until NOW?! For fucks sake this guy sucks ass through a straw! You looked at izuku with a stunned get angry look. He couldn't help but to chuckle at you and turn his attention back to the movie. As if he had nothing to say to you.

“ so, buggy, how've you been? Any uh, romances I need to know about?”

Izuku spoke suddenly as he chewed on the candy you got him. He was watching the TV as you hummed in acknowledgement, you went to a college as well it wasn't as high and mighty as izukus but it was a place that could give you a degree or whatever. You hadn't really been with anyone recently, you'd just gotten out of a relationship about a month before izuku got back, it didnt mean too much to you do you didnt shed any years but uh, y'know.

“ not really, I mean did have a boyfriend — ”

Izukus eyes shot over to you within an instant of hearing the word 'boyfriend'. Izuku hummed in disapproval, he didn't like what he just heard. His face told it very well, he swallowed and turned his head fully listening to what you have to say now.

“ but uh, we broke up. like a month ago or something, t’wasnt really serious.”

He hummed once more, nodding slightly. His expression seemed to relax a bit more at the end of your sentence, but he was still somewhat on edge.

“ what about you? any baby mamas i need to know about?”

Your words snapped him out of whatever daze he was in, causing him to get flustered and snicker a bit he hid his face while he laughed and caught his breath. Izuku had changed a lot, he knew that. He gained a lot of mass and muscle, he got taller, and he was a pretty attractive guy well around. Of course he'd had a couple of girlfriends and friends with benefits.

“ nope. no babies or baby mothers for me.”

You giggled at the way he spoke, clearing your throat and turning to face him.

“ any girlfriend? boyfriend?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. He licked his lips and ticked his tongue, humming and chewing on his lip as if he were thinking.

“ well, I'm not in a relationship perse, but I had a fling.”

“ oh yeah? tell me about it handsome face.”

Izuku perked up at the name, a slight blush painting his cheeks while he cleared his throat.

“ just some girl in my classes who stays on campus with me. we used to date but uh, it didn't work out.”

“ so instead of staying away you decided to rekindle your 'love' by fucking her. you should honestly write a romance novel.”

“ fuck you.”

He says flustered as he turned his face, you burst out laughing slapping your knees and nearly falling off the couch. You lean back and catch your breath tears prickling at the side of your eye.

“ oh yeah yeah, it wasn't that funny.”

“ you're right kid, it was hilarious.”

“ I'm older than you?!”

His shrilly voice and the reaction he made had you dying all over again, you laughed loudly and almost lost all your breath coughing and gasping for air. Your side began hurting from all the laughing and you leaned against him holding your side in pain.

“ hmph. that's what you get.”

“ awwhh~ gettin’ all pouty wif’ me zuzukins?”

You tease him in a baby voice with a faux pout and leaned your head closer to his, your cheek right up against his shoulder. He groaned at the tone of turn voice and the name you called him, slightly cringing as he rolled his eyes and looked down at you.

You felt his breath slightly fanning your face, his slandered expression becoming rather expressionless now, serious in some sort. A small grin was still present on your face as you exhaled through your nose while looking up at him. You noticed the way he licked his lips, a quick swipe of his pick tongue going over his top then bottom lip. It's as if it played in slow motion.

Your smile dropped as you looked at his lips then back up to his eyes, he was staring right back at you, just not your eyes. A small smirk appeared on his face, his eyes trailed back up to yours. Before you knew it your foreheads were touching, your breath hitched at the sudden realization of the contact.

Izukus eyes moved back down to your lips, yours doing the same. Your noses gently rubbing against each others before he leaned in quickly and —

“ izuku honey, I'm home! you would never believe what happ—- oh!”

You two quickly snapped apart, your breathing was heavy as if you'd been stripped of all of your hair, izuku was breathing just ad heavy through his nose. Stammering on his words as he stood and greeted his mother who's eyes were locked onto you.

You cleared your throat and stood, this was quite awkward now. Izuku was rambling on about whatever and inko was just smiling warmly. She didn't hold at judgement or teasing behind your eyes or smile. Just a warm smile.

“ it's good to see you dear.”

“ haha, you too inko. erm, izuku id better uh, head home it's pretty late y'know?”

His head turned towards you, he instantly stopped talking as his brows furrowed slightly. Truth be told he didn't want you to leave. He didn't know what'd just happened between you two but he didnt want it to end.

“ are you sure? It's pretty late you could just stay the night like old times! I don't want you walking out late.”

“ awh, y’ worried about me zu?”

“ I just want you to be safe.”

He said quite sternly. It wasn't necessarily a lie, he had wanted you to be safe. He cared about you and your well being. It's just be better if you'd stayed there with him! For safety. And all.

“ thank you for the concern but I'll be fine, I'll even text you once I make it since you 'cawe so mwuch'”

You tease ending your sentence with air quotes and a baby voice. He scoffed looking rather angry and rolling his eyes. Your teasing manner instantly vanished at the sudden cold shoulder he'd just given you.

“ fine. whatever, see ya I guess.”

“ uh.. yeah. b- bye.”

You walked past him and turned back to the door as you were outside before it was almost slammed in your face. You were stunned beyond speaking. It's like you were knocked out of your body, you actually felt like crying even. Why was he suddenly being an ass? Whatever.

You walked home thinking long and hard about what you could've done or said to piss him off. Was it not staying when he asked? Maybe you'd teased him too much, y'know pushed and poked at his buttons. You groan in anger with yourself as you walk inside and jump right into your bed. You sigh heavily grabbing your phone and thinking about texting him. Maybe he didn't want to hear from you. You thought about it and realized you didn't give a shit.

" hey!!!!"

"made it home:))"

"k"

The absolute lovely fuck?! 'k' who the fuck just says 'k' like that. Fucking lame ass loser. You groaned loudly even angrier than before he was being an unreasonable dick because of what?? Hes just being a whiney little shit because you wouldn't stay over. It was late and you didn't feel like being away from right too long. Why couldn't he get that? You turned over and closed your eyes to try and sleep through the anger.

It's been about a week since you two last talked. Izuku was still being as dry as ever, not giving you anything when you two text. Just "oh"s and "lol"s like huh? Okay, give us nothing.

Your eyes were glued to your phone the entire time you were out with your friend. You kept letting out quick and timid sighs. This was like your 5th one in a singular minute. That has GOT to be a world record.

“ ya’ alright?”

“ huh?? Oh. Yeah.”

“ uh- y’sure? yer’ actin kinda weird.”

“ ‘m fine. Just pissed off.”

“ wanna talk about it?”

No. You wanted to run over to that shitty green haired humanized bunny ass prick and best his ass. Why was he acting so weird. There is no way he's still hung up over you not staying over that one time. He hadn't texted you in like.. 3 years and the second he gets back in town, he invited you over for a movie and flips out once you try to go home???? The fuck?

“ my friends just being a dick s’all.”

“ guy or girl?”

“ ...guy.”

“ he probably likes you.”

The absolute shock that went into your face. You literally let out some kind of noise at the absurd statement. There was no way in hell he liked you. Especially not if he were acting like this. Last time you remembered izuku was a sweetheart, not some stone cold dickhead who pouts and gets all angry when things don't go his way..................................

okay well he at least wasn't a stone cold dickhead.

This was actually typical behavior for izuku now that you think about it. You scoffed to yourself and a smile appeared on your face. That's it! Izuku was just being pouty because he didn't have his way! You solved it!

You laughed aloud and thanked your friend before literally sprinting down the street to catch the nearest bus. Your friend was literally so confused and yelled out to you, unbeknownst to you, you left without paying the bill like you agreed...

You got off the bus and headed straight to izukus house, running past the shop that you'd gotten his candy from. A few turns down some streets and you were there. Once you are at his street you stopped next to a fire hydrant and caught your breath, wheezing and nearly dying from the lack of air. You inhaled sharply and choked on the air that invaded your lungs in such an uncomfortable way.

You sucked up the horrible feeling and continued to jog to his door which wasn't too far. Once you were there you made sure to look somewhat presentable so you could get ready to beat his ass for being a whiney little bitch. You made sure your hair looked nice and sprayed on some perfume you had in your bag. You take one final breath before knocking on the door.

“ oh? Hello?- oh! Y/n dear, welcome welcome, come in come in!”

“ hello Mrs midoriya! It's good to see you as well, haha! ya’think I could go up n’ see izuku?”

“ of course hon, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you! you go one up, I'll just be in here if you need me.”

“ thank you Mrs midoriya!”

You walk up the stairs with no hurry at the beginning. You stop in your tracks and think to yourself; "what the hell am I doing." You sprint up the stairs with a motive and fake anger in your head. You stomp down the hall and make it to his childhood room door and twist the nob, slamming the door open. Unfortunately for you, you made the mistake of not knocking......

“ izuku midoriy— uh.”

You were frozen in place, your cheeks warming up at the explicit sight. Your friend best friend had his head thrown back and he looked as if he was experiencing pure ecstasy. He was groaning quietly yet so whimpery at the same time, his brows were stitched together and his eyes were closed, slightly fluttering and showing that his eyes were rolled into the back of his head.

Your mouth just hung open at the sight. Your childhood friend, the guy who'd always been so scrawny and weak was sitting here jacking off, and that wasn't even the problem. It was the fact that this guy was ripped.. you knew he'd gotten bigger since the last time you'd saw him, but wow.. as if getting taller wasn't enough, he had to go and get more muscle too, abs n shit. And fuck.... Your eyes accidentally trailed down. You swear up and down it was an accident, really. But gosh it looked so appetizing.

His cock wasn't exactly like.. looong, perse just like. Really really really thick. Like this guy was big. It was twitching against his hand as he stroked it, as far as you could see two veins painted the sides of his girthy cock. His hand wrapped around it but just barely, only his middle finger and thumb touched around it. Seeing how he could hardly even wrap his large hand around his cock had you thinking what it'd look like if your hand was around it...his tip was huge red and leaky, a glob of precum dripped down the side of his shaft and he was quick to swirl his hand around his cock bringing his thumb up to the tip of it and circling it fastly making him whimper.

He bit his lip and tried to muffle his moans that wanted to escape, that wanted to be heard. He had headphones in and obviously didn't notice you were there, he was watching porn on his laptop you'd guess as it was sitting on his thighs. He wasn't even watching more or less just listening. You couldn't take your eyes off of his cock and the way he touched it. It was so mesmerizing and hypnotizing. he bucked his hips into his hand a couple of times and laid his head back in his pillows. Little ropes of "fuck!"s And "oh yeah!"s left his lips. He looked so good like this, all desperate and yearning for release. Despite how bad he seemed to want it, it also seemed as if he was edging himself. Not yet letting himself cum.

His other hand came down to squeeze his balls lightly which made him whisper something. You didn't quite catch it but just your luck, he said it again. Still in a hushed tone, just a bit louder.

“ fuck! y/n, just like that...”

Oh. Your breath hitched and your thighs squeezed themselves together. You bit your lip and couldn't help the fiery feeling that erupted inside. You could practically just feel your cunt throbbing from his words. Was he really thinking about.. you?! Why were you just standing here watching... He's your friend for fucks sake and your watching him in a private moment! You're a weirdo! A perv! And worst of all his mom is right outside and could come up at any given moment! Have you no shame woman!

You seen how tightly he squeezed his cock, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together. Sweat was beading at his forehead and his face was red and hot by the looks of it. His had breaths quickened and the movements of his hand had gotten sloppy, he couldn't help the whines that started leaving his lips.

“ please! want it— wna’ cum!”

“ please please please, y/n!~”

He sped up his movements just a bit more before he started cumming. He let out the most quivery and gutteral moan ever, it was all whiney and breathy and oh so desperate. He kept going despite cumming, stroking him twitching cock as it spewed out long thick ropes of his milky white cum. It shot far all over his tummy his hands some even on his face. It was quite a sight to see him all sweaty and disheveled like this, covered in his own cum as well. Your eyes still hadn't trailed away from him or his cock, he used his other hand to swirl his palm around the tip of his cock causing him to bite his lip hardly and basically scream. He tried to muffle it, he did but it was quite loud. You were lucky his mom didn't call out. Your breath hitched as you seen the reaction. It was so adorable yet slutty, he was overstimulating himself.

You watched as he calmed down, fluttering his glossy eyes open and looking at the mess he'd made. He looked at the computer before realizing.... There was someone standing at his door...

He turned his attention to you before his eyes shot wide open and he got extremely red in embarrassment.. you both just looked at each other, speechless. Neither of you blinking, speaking, or even breathing. His computer had slightly shifted off of his thighs now that they were relaxed and your eyed had accidentally trailed to the screen, it was bad enough that he was moaning your name while fucking himself, but there was a picture of you on his computer right next to the open tab of porn asking to be replayed.

" man gets fucked by dom mommy!!! [Pegging included!!]"

Wow. You didn't think this was the kind of thing that got him off. You gulped and turned your eyes back to him, his eyes filling with tears his breath was shaky, not just from cumming but from pure disbelief. His mouth was agape and his lips were dried. The post nut clarity was hitting him HARD. he tried to convince himself it was just a hallucination from all that edging he'd been doing.

“ tsk.... so uh. I'm gonna js’ see myself out...”

The second you spoke he closed his eyes and tears had fell down his cheeks. He covered his face with his hands despite being covered in cum. He truly was a filthy pig and he felt it.

You closed his door and walked out silently. Walking down the stairs and not even saying anything to his mother who had wished you a good night and everything. You were too stunned to speak. Quite literally. You walked all the way back to your house speechless, your mind was empty as well. Literally no words could come to mind or to your throat.

You laid in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about what you'd seen. The images just flashing in your mind like a camera. Fuck... The squelching noises you heard from his cock being so wet.. oh, and the way he threw his head back moaning... Goodness when he came?! It was like he was shooting planks! And it was just so much!! How can a guy cum that much!!!!! You covered your face with your hands and groaned. There was no way it wasn't gonna be awkward.

Literally three days past before you realized you didn't even get to speak to izuku. It angered you again that you never got to give him a piece of your mind. Being the person you were, you got dressed and walked to his house getting ready to probably make the same mistake again. You sigh and knock on his front door, because clearly you need to learn how privacy works.

“ oh! Y/n, to what do I owe the lovely surprise!”

“ just here to see izuku is all!”

The way her face contorted from happiness to nervousness within an instant. It made your smile fade aswell. The silence was a bit too loud for your liking, it was beginning to get a bit awkward..

“ I'm sorry honey but, izuku left yesterday. He said he had to leave early for an upcoming project he forgot about.”

Oh ... Your mouth opened and shut like a goldfish. Hed run away. He left town and probably wasn't going to return. He was so fucking scared he actually ran awake like the pussy he'd always been. You were suddenly filled by a rush of anger. You bid his mother a good day and rushed back home.

You sat at your desk and pulled out your laptop getting ready to text him through email because you'd already texted him through his number, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, even Snapchat! He just kept leaving you on delivered. This motherfucker.

You'd sent him a total of 315 messages in between every app, email, and messaging. Not only did izuku not answer, he didn't even look at them. And by the next day he had unfollowed you on everything and blocked you. There was no way to get in contact with him....

Through your phone at least.

AN: how we feeling w this one chat? Did I cook?! Rs I really enjoyed this bc it's been SO LONG since I've written an actual fIc like HWHAYATATAAYA.

Also, I have ALOT of reqs I'm DROWNIGN in and I've answer alot of them and have like fics n shit like basically ready to go I just like lost motivation to give them actual endings so... Yeah!!!

[taojjang]

ִ ࣪𖤐 riize spending halloween with you .ᐟ

pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff + crack, warnings: spooky themes! haunted houses, fake blood, scary clowns, fake blades, a lil spooky might make u dookie pink text > reader blue text > riize

♡⸝⸝ spooky day with your silly bf

shotaro passing out candy!

since the day you and shotaro moved into your shared apartment, you always loved how festive your neighborhood was during halloween. everything was so festive with the spooky orange lights, the scary skeleton statues, the fake spiderwebs in the trees. that's why you'd never imagine spending halloween anywhere else but your home.

though you love halloween so dearly, it's clear who loves it more between the both of you. on october 1st, taro buys loads and loads of spooky decorations. he'd come home with huge bags cheering, "honey! look what i bought! do you want to help me put these up?" you could never turn down requests as adorable as his :( even if it's cold, you would be outside for hours hanging up fancy string lights and constructing little pumpkin lanterns to leave on the front lawn. you'd take a break and watch shotaro excitedly hanging cute ghosts from a tree, giggling and showing off his work. he was so serious about making your house extra festive </3

on halloween day, you and taro would sit on your front porch in matching costumes and pass out candy to the trick-or-treaters. you absolutely adore how cute taro is with kids, getting a little too generous with his grants because of how adorable they are. every time a kid would walk away, he'd turn to you and gush, “wasn't she so adorable?! ahh i can't take it!!” once the trick-or-treaters stop coming, the two of you head inside to cuddle and eat the leftover candy. “babies are so cute, don't you think? i can't wait to dress up our little one!” "you're the cutest thing, taro :("

eunseok baking spooky treats!

ever since eunseok made the cute gesture of cooking pumpkin-shaped dumplings for halloween one year, cooking has been a halloween tradition. maybe because of how delicious eunseok's pastries are, the two of you often ditch halloween parties to eat cream puffs instead >.< you'd truly leave anything behind just to enjoy a comforting meal cooked by your sweet boyfriend. once the month of october begins, you're already counting down the days until your cooking date with seok. of course, he's excited as well. but he can't help feeling a bit anxious. though you love baking with him, he tries to take the lead most times because of how clumsy you are.

this year, the two of you decided on a two-course meal; ghost-shaped dumplings and pumpkin cream puffs! the date began, the two of you looking for recipes and hunting for the ingredients in his cabinets. eunseok tried to lend you some of his trust while you cooked, but it didn't take long for your clumsiness to spike his anxiety. "darling, this looks like a bit too much flour. how much did you put?" "two cups!" "the recipe called for half." long story short, you were switched to observation duty!

you watched eunseok read the instructions and add all the ingredients to a bowl while clinging to his waist, peeking over his shoulder. here and there, he'll look back at you and allow you to mix the ingredients together (which he shouldn't have cus you ended up splashing flour all over your halloween pajamas </3). eunseok was working overtime steaming the dumplings and mixing the pastry dough, all while keeping a close eye on you so you wouldn't explode the house or something. once the pastries were in the oven, you went to the living room to pick a spooky show to watch while your chef boyfriend prepared dinner. "here darling, all done." your eyes lit up at the sight of the prettily plated food, eunseok placing it in front of you with a bunch of side dishes. "this looks good, love! thank you!" the two of you sat beside each other, indulging in the cute little dumplings. your eyes were glued on the show in front of you, but eunseok's eyes were scanning your face for signs of enjoyment. he relaxes into a soft smile when he sees your eyes light up with your cheeks stuffed with food. "how is it?" "so good! extra points cus you're cute ;3" all of his stress from looking after you melted away once he was rewarded with that sweet smile of yours.

sungchan carving pumpkins!

sungchan is probably as excited for halloween as a sugar-deficit toddler. chan has been so determined to prepare everything early for halloween, picking out costumes and little candies since the beginning of october. he’d been looking forward to wearing your matching fbi agent costumes to his friend’s costume party. but you fell ill the day before the party, not being able to completely enjoy your halloween :(

sungchan was worried sick about you, leaving everything behind to come take care of you. what you didn’t expect was him to open your bedroom door with two large pumpkins. “what the hell babe..? i thought you were buying medicine?” “oh, i forgot… but they had pumpkins on sale! buy one get one free!” you laughed at your smiling dork and mustered up the strength to go carve pumpkins in the living room, right in front of the display of spooky festivities outside of your window <3

“let’s make matching pumpkins! i can make spiderman and you can make uh… baby yoda!” “that doesn’t match but sure!” the two of you carved pumpkins together while watching peanuts, your favorite cartoon. though you felt like shit due to the lack of medication, you didn't have much time to focus on your discomfort due to your dramatic boyfriend's reaction to the gross feeling of the pumpkin guts. gosh, did you absolutely love that stupid face of his. though he was fooling around and trying to lift your spirits, sungchan remained hyperalert watching your every move, staying wary of your weak hands holding the carving knife. “let me do it for you, princess. you’re gonna get hurt.” sure enough, the both of you got hurt :) but at least the pumpkins were cute! sungchan put candles in the pumpkins and left the botched-looking jack o’lanterns by your front door. “all done! i should probably go buy your medicine now, huh…” “just come inside and cuddle me..!”

wonbin watching scary films!

you’ve been dying to go to a haunted house with wonbin for months now. but due to reasons unbeknown to you, he’s always turned you down. he comes up with a different excuse every time, like “it’s too expensive” or  “it’s too cold that day” but once he agreed to watch scary movies with you, you finally figured out why he didn’t want to go.

the two of you decided to watch paranormal movies, all about ghosts and hauntings. throughout the movie, you notice wonbin kept scooting closer and closer to you until his head was hiding behind your shoulder. “no way bbin, are you scared?” “no, i’m just cold.” but whenever ominous music played, his grip on your arm would tighten and he’d hold his breath, just barely peeking over your shoulder. once the movie grew silent, you smirked before letting out a low growl, scaring the jumpy cat. “ah don’t do that, baby!!” you laughed before pulling him down to cuddle against your chest, ruffling his hair and apologizing through giggles. during the climax, wonbin was tightly squeezing your waist and hiding with the blanket pressed tightly against his face. you sneakily pulled out your phone and recorded your boyfriend's cute demeanor, all tensed up on top of you with his big, shaky eyes hesitantly glued to the screen. once the jumpscare popped up, he dropped the ineffective nonchalant act and screamed, springing backward to hug you by the shoulders, hiding his head into your neck. you laughed and held him against your body, kissing his temple to calm him down. “ah, this must be why you didn't wanna go to the haunted house, hm?” “shut up!”

the movie ended at 11pm and you had to go back home. you put your jacket on and grabbed your keys, but wonbin stood in front of the door and stared at you with that pitiful sullen glint in his eyes. “can you sleep over tonight? i’m… gonna be cold again later.” you laughed and tossed your keys back onto the counter running to hug your frightened baby. you cupped his cheeks in your hands and planted hundreds of kisses all over his flustered cheeks. “i won't make fun of you if you're scared, baby. should we cuddle?” wonbin’s fear melted away and he nodded, holding your hand and running off to his room. the two of you cuddled while staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. “we shouldn't have watched that… did you know you could manifest hauntings by watching scary stuff?” “the ghosts can't kill you, baby. shush, just sleep.”

seunghan on a pokemon hunt!

as silly as it sounds, the two of you decided instead of passing out candy or going to costume parties, you would go on a pokémon hunt late at night. seunghan proposed a challenge of whoever could catch the most pokémon would pay for dinner that night. you and your competitive poké-fiend boyfriend put on your coziest jackets and ran outside.

you stayed on facetime with hani while running opposite ways to catch some pokémon. you were doing pretty good, catching a few ratatas and even a diglett. but after 10 minutes of hunting, you noticed seunghan was frantically looking around and commenting on his surroundings. "oh wow it's dark... i should try to stay around the other people here. there wouldn't be ghosts, right? ghosts aren't a thing, haha..." you couldn't hold back your laughter as you realized seunghan was more afraid of the ghosts catching him than having to pay for dinner. "what are you laughing at..?" "are you scared, love?" "of course not! i'm just in a weird environment!" you closed out of the pokémon go app and watched your boyfriend's flustered expression on the screen. "hold on, i'll come find you." "no! you're gonna scare off my pokémon!" "I'LL SAVE YOU, MY PRINCESS!"

long story short, you got to enjoy your fried chicken without a single penny being taken from you (winner winner chicken dinner!). as you ran over to seunghan, he whined, "i give up, it's too dark. can we go inside yet?" once he saw you running towards him, his eyes lit up and he ran to cling to your side. "come on, love, let's go hide from the ghosts." the two of you held hands and ran back home where seunghan ordered a fried chicken delivery. you and the sulky boy ate together while watching shin chan, you occasionally pausing to tease your silly boyfriend for being scared of ghosts. "do you mind taking out the trash after this? hopefully there aren't any ghosts out there~" "STOP ANGEL I'M SO SERIOUS RN"

sohee in a haunted corn maze!

the two of you were browsing the store for cool halloween costumes when you saw a flier for a haunted corn maze at the nearby farm. “we should do it!” sohee cheered, taking a picture of the flier. you tilted your head and asked, “are you sure? you won’t be scared?” sohee scoffs and shakes his head, “of course not! i’m sohee!” you scoff at the silly guy who's grinning and flexing his tiny muscles.

contrary to your initial belief, sohee wasn't afraid. you were. the two of you arrived at the farm and you couldn't help but feel uneasy. you keep subconsciously squeezing sohee's arm and pressing yourself against him. your heart was beginning to palpitate meanwhile sohee was laughing and gasping, "wow... the props seem to be good quality!" your clueless boyfriend was too busy admiring the fake knives on the hay barrels instead of the terrifying killer clown standing by the maze entrance. you enter the maze and you’re immediately hit with the eeriness of the space; the tall hedges, the dark path ahead, the fake blood on the ground, the scary backtrack. your stomach began to turn, yet sohee excitedly treaded forward. “let’s go! should we go left or right?” you hummed trying to brainstorm an answer but as you looked both ways, you spotted scary props in both directions. the terrified screams of the other people in the maze didn’t help your sense of impending doom. “maybe… left?”  sohee looked down at you and noticed the uncertainty in your voice. he found it cute how you were so concerned about him being afraid yet now you're stuck to his arm, seemingly about to cry. “are you sure? we can still leave if you'd like.” you shook your head and held onto his arm tighter. “no, let's go!” sohee chucked adoringly at your sudden courage and began following your lead.

your fear soon dissipated as the fun of the escape settled in. as you turned left, a bloodied clown emerged from the dense bushes. you immediately tugged sohee towards you, earning an amused laugh from him. but now that it was over, you weren’t as scared. the escape was now on. “i think we should go left.” “nonono there's a killer over there!” “are you scared?” “no let’s go” the two of you worked tirelessly (screaming almost every 4 minutes) and finally saw the glow of the exit lights. sohee’s eyes lit up as he saw the red sign, turning to you and taking your hand in his. “y/n, there it is! come on!” the two of you ran out of the maze with huge smiles. sohee turned to you with the widest gleam on his face, high-fiving your hands and intertwining his fingers with yours. “we did it!” the fear-induced adrenaline all melted away once your hands were in his. you fell into his hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting against him. sohee held you by the waist and nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “were you scared, pretty girl?” you shook your head and huffed, “not at all!” sohee laughed and left a small kiss on your cheek. “you did a good job getting us out of there! let’s do more things like this!”

anton in a haunted house! (oh dear...)

anton had been dreading this day for ages. your boyfriend had always been a scaredy cat, not being too good at hiding his fear especially when watching scary movies with you. “i really can’t do it love, i’m gonna DIE.” “you’re being dramatic, anton.” he’d been trying his best to convince you not to go, but he couldn’t stand the idea of you going alone. he couldn’t keep fighting your little pout and those pleading doe eyes :( so of course, you went!

you were skipping towards the spooky house while anton was pulling you back by the arm, taking baby steps. “ah, wait! i can’t do this!!” with enough consoling, anton finally followed you inside the house. but once the red lights flashed, he ran behind you and planted his hands under your jacket. you laughed hearing anton’s terrified whines so soon, only being in the house for 20 seconds. you rested your hands over his gripping your waist. “i’m gonna start walking, okay?” “no!” the two of you still haven’t made it three steps into the house without him sticking to you, hiding his head in the side of your neck. once you began progressing, you were shocked at how high quality the set was; fake dead bodies, blood splattered all over the walls, eerie smoke emanating from the doorways. everything you found fascinating was only driving anton even closer to you, hiding against you and holding you with a trembling grip. you wanted to immerse yourself in the horror of the scene, but you couldn’t feel any sense of fear with your dumb boyfriend whining against your neck. “baby, hiding won’t help.” “no, i’m not looking! hurry, i wanna get out!” you laughed and held onto his hands tighter, treading through the scary rooms. with every slight noise, anton would flinch against your shoulder, his grip on your shirt growing tighter. “ah, move faster love!” “i’m trying!”

the entire time, anton was pathetically shrieking with his head buried into your neck, not allowing himself to see any of the scary scenes. he was so focused on keeping his eyes shut that he didn't realize you'd successfully exited the house. "open your eyes." "no!" "baby trust me, open your eyes." toni hesitantly lifted his head only to be met with the sight of trees and soft moonlight. "oh... it's done." you laughed and turned to face him, cupping his face in your hands and lifting the corners of his lips into a smile. "you made it out alive! see? it wasn't bad!" "you don't know what i went through..." though he'd finally escaped like he'd been praying for, he was still sulking during the entire trip back home. you couldn't hold back your laughs, finding his pouty lips so adorable. "i'm sorry my love, i won't make you go to another one again. do you wanna cuddle?" "whatever, sure." you sighed at his sassy remark and turned him to face you, pressing your lips against his. that moody look on his face was soon replaced with his flustered, blushing cheeks and a content smile creeping onto his lips.

[giveafike]

kinda obsessed with the prompt of ben x fem tennis reader being together for a lil while and being the cutest couple , breaking up bc the distance hit them too hard after two straight months of different tournaments/locations, then seeing each other for the first time at a 1000 tournament, going out to dinner with the same group of people and end up going back to bens hotel room to clear the air and obvs end up in bed together realising they’re gonna have to get thru the distance cos they can’t be without each other now 😭

TLDR: tennisplayerfem!reader and ben break up bc you can't handle being away and then surprise, you can't handle being not together. Losers.

Word count + info: 10k. Am I mentally ill? This is supposed to be a blurb.. Dialogue (angst, texts, calls, conversation).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Breakup and kinda mean stuff said (nothing physical description wise). Otherwise, it's all good! (i think)

Azzie Notes ✚: SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD. AM I OKAY??? 10K?? ON A BLURB?? idrk what angst is fr chat lmk if i did that one fr idk....im a LOVER girl ok IDK HOW TO DO THIS SAD SHIT - in saying that, was part of my dialogue in this lwky..loosely based off of my ex...........maybe...

I fear I loved this prompt so bad and like...I love to yap..so...

Socials + Updates: twitter ( @azziegivesafike) - feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!

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Shattered - B.T.S.

In the beginning, being with Ben is the kind of whirlwind you've only seen in movies, a connection that feels so natural, yet thrillingly unexpected. Well, in hindsight, that might've been a lie. It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but instead, a slow, magnetic pull that drew you together, like the tension building in a long rally. You met on the circuit, both hungry, ambitious, and dedicated to your own success. But from the start, Ben had this way of getting past your disciplined, guarded exterior with that relentless charm of his.

He’s everywhere, it seems—posting highlights from your matches on his stories, sneaking your name into press conferences, tagging you in his silly “lazy Saturday” shots where your game is always playing in the background. He flirts shamelessly, flashing that grin across the court, his voice lifting over the crowd to make some cheeky comment that leaves you stifling laughter. Your friends see it before you do: Ben is crazy about you, and soon, so is everyone else.

He flirted shamelessly and relentlessly, everywhere and anywhere, often catching you off guard in ways that left you flustered despite your best efforts to stay cool and professional. With that, you started to look out for the way his eyes would find yours in a crowd while you sat in the stands during his matches or how he would nudge you at practice with that easy, casual touch like he’s done it a thousand times before; like you belong by his side.

Once, when he's asked in an interview if he’d dedicated his recent win to anyone, he grins and looks straight across the room, making everyone laugh. “There’s someone special right now, but no need to say names, she knows.”

It’s sweet, funny and more than a little bold. Later, when you called him out for it over one of your first late-night calls, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic, telling you with that stupid drawl of his, “What? Ain’t no point hidin’ it. The world knows who my lucky charm is.”

Soon, it was you reaching out for him, your hand slipping onto his arm, leaning against him during walkouts, letting your barriers fall. And every time he catches your eye, every time he manages to make you smile, he looks at you like he’s won the lottery. His heart stammers a little each time you shove him playfully or roll your eyes at his antics. Whether it was on the bench or during changeovers, Ben would rest his hand gently on your lower back, a touch that makes you feel, just for a moment, like you're the only two people in the world.

When the rare break in your schedules comes around, you steal hours together. You grab a coffee, turning a "quick run" into a day spent together and wander around a city you barely know, or stumble upon a hidden café with pastries too flowery for your tastes. He made everything feel easier, like no matter how intense life gets, you’ll always have that balance with him. Around Ben, you can be softer, and more vulnerable; he brings out a side of you that isn’t just about winning and competing but about laughing, sharing, and letting go.

People noticed the way you look at each other, the easy affection that passes between you, the more daring and intimate PDA, sharing kisses and lingering stares. Soon, fans were shipping you openly, posting photos of you courtside, or whispering to each other when you lean close and murmur something that makes him laugh. On tour, you’re one of those “it” couples, a little slice of joy in the relentless pace of your careers. And in those early days, you both believe that together, you can take on anything. In those early days, you believed you could take on anything together. You and Ben were partners, equals, and even in the midst of a gruelling season, there had always been time for him, always a reason to smile. It felt perfect, like a love story you had stumbled into but were both entirely committed to.

But that honeymoon phase comes crashing down real quick.

As seasons shift and tournaments stretch across continents, the cracks start to show. At first, it’s just a few hours difference, but then come the miles and oceans, and the texts dwindled, conversations cut short, replaced by more missed calls than made and vague apologies. You both had tried, in every way you knew how. But eventually, the memories weren’t enough to bridge the distance. You’d catch yourself staying up just to wait for his call after practice, only to fall asleep disappointed, staring at a dark screen. And every time you woke up to a hastily sent sorry, something came up text, it felt like another tiny fracture.

Ben wasn’t the only one caught up in the chaos of your schedules; you had your own demands, too. The strain went both ways. In an attempt to keep things alive, you’d push yourself to keep up with his time zone, adding another city to your Clock app, setting alarms accordingly to his lunch and dinner times, staying awake far too late, eyes heavy as you sat alone in your hotel room, scrolling through old photos just to feel closer to him. When the call finally did come, your voice was barely more than a whisper, tired and distant, and Ben couldn't bear the exhaustion in your tone, his heart aching as he hushed you to sleep, meaning neither of you would stay on long.

It all piled up slowly, almost imperceptibly, until the weight felt crushing. Conversations became one-sided, it’s like chasing the sun itself, moments of silence replacing the laughter that had once felt endless, and that spark, the one that made you feel unstoppable together, felt further away with every day that passed.

Then came the day of your match, a game that should have been easy, one you’d normally have breezed through. But you were dragging, exhaustion wrapping itself around your every heavy, drooping step, and somewhere in the depths of your mind, a bitter thought took root:

If only he cared.

You knew it wasn’t his fault, but still, the frustration boiled over. Would things have felt different if you weren’t so alone in this? If you didn’t have to wonder when, or if, he’d remember to call? If he scheduled calls to your time for once? If he could just postpone everything for 20, 20 measly minutes for you?

A ball zips right by you, snapping you back to reality.

Lying in your hotel room that night, you stared at the ceiling, replaying the best moments of your time together like an old movie reel. In those moments, it had felt perfect. You’d believed you could take on the world, side by side, partners in everything. But now, with miles and silence separating you, you wondered if those memories were all that was left of what you once had.

But even with that ache, even with the emptiness filling the room, one thing is clear as day: loving Ben, for all its messiness, for all the distance and loneliness, had never felt like a mistake but God, was it hard. You pondered on those same irritating thoughts that itched at you until your fingers found your phone and hit the FaceTime Call button. Part of you wanted him to not pick up, knowing that you had nothing kind or sweet to say, but a small part of you wanted to dish back what he deserved.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice tense, worn. His drawl feels distant like he’s talking to you from across an ocean.

“Hey.” You can feel the iciness in your voice, colder than you intended.

“Long day?” he asks, though his expression is already tense, wary.

“Yeah. Almost lost today,” you say flatly.

Ben’s gaze flicks down. “I saw the score,” he says, his voice cautious. “Guess it was a tough match, babe.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” you snap. “But maybe it’s hard to focus when I’m barely sleeping… or constantly waiting for a text that never comes.”

He blinks, his eyes narrowing. “So this is on me?” The familiar accent is a little rougher around the edges. “You’re losin’ matches ‘cause I’m not callin’ you enough? That’s what you’re sayin’?”

“Don’t play dumb, Ben. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about” You feel the bitterness twisting in your chest. ““You’re barely here, Ben. Half the time, I don’t even know if we’re still together or if we’re just two people sending pointless messages every few hours. Half the time, it feels like I’m talking to a ghost.”

He lets out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “You think it’s any easier for me? I’ve got my own stuff, my own schedule, darlin'. I’ve got my career to think about too, you know, this ain't just about you.”

Your jaw tightens. “Yeah, well, at least when I'm on the court, I don’t exactly have the luxury of tuning you out, Ben. I’m not the one who forgets to call after saying I would. I don’t have time for half-assed texts and waiting around for you to call when you feel like it.”

“Oh, don’t go there,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. “You know what it’s like. The fans, the interviews, the time spent on court-”

“Yeah, I get it, Ben. But last week, you bailed on a call to go sign autographs. Priorities, right?”

He takes a deep breath, visibly holding back. “C’mon, babe, you don’t mean that.”

But you press on, unable to stop yourself. “You’re too busy with whatever ‘big thing’ you have going on, right? Maybe if you cared enough to focus on your game instead of your ‘commitments,’ you wouldn’t have dropped that finals match. Just maybe.”

He flinches, his expression turning dark. “Oh, that's low from you, Y/N. You really wanna go there?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, your voice unwavering.

He pauses, his face hardening. “If you were out here on the ATP tour, you’d understand how rough it really is. You wouldn't even get past a challenger. It ain’t the same league as the WTA.”

You laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Oh, don’t even start with that. Rougher than the WTA? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Maybe come and join WTA then, you wouldn't manage it out here either, Ben.”

He snaps, his voice cutting like a whip. “You know how much I’m fightin’ to make a name for myself out here. Just ‘cause you got a few more shiny titles doesn’t mean you get to talk down to me like this.”

The sting of his words hits like a slap. Your face flushes, a mix of anger and hurt bubbling up. “So, that’s it? Just because I’ve actually earned my success, I’m some kind of… what? Nag?”

“I didn’t say that,” he shot back, voice tight, his eyes narrowing as he looked away. “But maybe you’re doin’ too much. Bein’ all… dramatic, blamin’ me for stuff I got no control over.”

“Right, okay, so I’m being dramatic,” you scoff, your voice edged with sarcasm. “I’m the one asking for too much because I want something real, something you clearly can’t give.”

He laughs, bitter and raw. “Maybe you just want too damn much.”

You feel the tears prickling behind your eyes, but you clench your jaw, holding yourself together by sheer force of will. Your voice trembles as you speak, the words thick with a pain you can’t contain. “I just want you to care, Ben, or at least pretend to care and make it believable. I want you to care enough to be here when it matters. But you’re so wrapped up in yourself, you don’t even see it.”

His face hardens, his jaw set, but his eyes hold a flicker of something unspoken. “You think I don’t care? I’m out here pushin’ myself every day, for us, for this future we’re supposed to be building 'n shit. But it’s like no matter what I do, it ain’t enough for you.”

A sharp knock sounds from his end, followed by muffled voices. He glances away, then back at you, irritation flaring in his eyes. “Look, I gotta go. Dad’s waitin’ on me; he already gave me an extra ten minutes to talk.”

You feel your heart twist, an ache of disappointment settling in. “Oh, of course,” you mutter, your voice dripping with bitterness. “Go ahead. I’m sure your training’s way more important than anything I have to say.”

He turns back, his eyes blazing with frustration. “Maybe it is right now,” he spits. “Talkin’ to you like this, all it’s doin’ is makin’ things worse. We're not getting anywhere like this-”

The words cut deeper than you expect, and you can barely hold back the surge of anger and heartbreak choking you. “Fine. Go, then. At least one of us can prioritise something.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks away. “You’re bein’ unfair, 'n you know it.”

“Am I?” you whisper, your voice tight and choked. “Or am I just done waiting for you to show up?”

You stare at each other, an endless silence stretching between you, sharp and seething, words too heavy to be unsaid. Then, with a frustrated shake of his head, he mutters, “I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later. When you’re not actin’ like this.”

Before you could respond, he hung up, his face disappearing from your screen, leaving you alone with nothing but the cold light of your phone. Your hands shook as you stared at the blank screen, tears finally spilling over.

With trembling fingers, you took a breath, letting a cold, steely calm settle over you. You typed out a simple, blunt message, leaving no room for second-guessing, no room for soft words or explanations. Just the truth, as raw as you felt.

“We’re done. I can’t do this anymore, Ben. I’m sorry.”

Your thumb lingered for a second before hitting “send,” and as soon as the message went through, you blocked him on every platform, cutting off any way for him to respond, to apologise, to convince you otherwise.

But as you tossed your phone aside, a crack appeared in the calm you’d forced on yourself. The tears came suddenly, your breath hitching as a tidal wave of heartbreak surged through you. You buried your face in your hands, pressing your palms against your eyes as if you could somehow contain the emotions clawing their way to the surface. You tried to stay quiet, muffling the sound in the dark, but the weight was too much, every sob raw, grieving and heavy, pouring out the frustration, the loneliness, and the love you’d tried so hard to salvage.

By the time your tears subsided, you felt utterly drained, hollowed out in a way that made everything around you feel distant and surreal. The city lights flickered outside your window, the glow indifferent to the storm that had torn through you. And in that quiet, broken moment, with only the shadows as company, you lay there, letting the exhaustion seep through your bones until sleep claimed you.

When sleep finally came, it was restless, fractured. You tossed and turned, flashes of memories from better days with Ben haunting you, the sound of his laugh, the way he’d smile, gummy and wide, his nose scrunching with that easy confidence. You woke up more exhausted than when you’d closed your eyes, feeling like you hadn’t rested at all. But you forced yourself out of bed, pushing yourself through your pre-game routine, your emotions locked away, frozen under layers of determination.

As you walked onto the court, the crowd buzzed with excitement, but you barely registered it. You were a storm, calm on the surface but seething underneath. Every shot you took was hard and brutal, the ball slicing through the air with an intensity that made your opponent flinch, the impact echoing through the stadium. You played as if your life depended on it, your body moving with sharp, lethal precision.

Your serves were relentless, your groundstrokes vicious, each one faster, sharper, as if each shot were a way to expel the anger and hurt still simmering in your chest. The crowd murmured, noticing the shift in your energy, the way you were pushing yourself, almost recklessly. A couple of times, your shots zipped past your opponent’s hand, barely missing, almost daring her to try and reach for it - "try me". You were untouchable, unstoppable, playing like you had something to prove.

But there was no smile, no hint of joy in your movements, solely mechanical. The usual lightness in your footwork was gone, replaced by a cold, ruthless efficiency. You’d already decided: this match was yours. You weren’t here to give an inch, weren’t here to let any lingering emotions cloud your focus. The crowd might have wanted excitement, but you were giving them precision, a display of control and fury that left no room for doubt.

You won, of course. Your opponent barely had a chance. But as you walked off the court, sweat trickling down your brow, fists clenched, you felt no thrill in the victory. Just the dull ache that lingered, a hollow space where your lightness, your smile, used to be. The heat of the court only made your head throb. The applause faded into background noise as you strode away, head high, shoulders tense. You’d won, but it felt like a hollow victory. You had no one to text after your game, anyone to call you baby - you had done it to yourself, were you really that desperate for a man to validate you? You were sick of feeling this way, sick of the exhaustion, the anger, the loneliness that clung to you even after everything you’d given today. At least, for now, you’d proven something, to yourself, to him, even if he’d never know, or care.

In the month that followed, you threw yourself harshly into your schedule, determined to erase any trace of him from your routine, your heart. Matches, training, travel, interviews, photoshoots, more matches, each day bled into the next, filled with an almost mechanical sense of purpose. If you weren’t on the court, you were working out, perfecting your strokes, spending hours on serves and footwork. Anything to exhaust yourself to stop the thoughts from lingering too long. Your routine was relentless, your focus razor-sharp.

But even in this frenzy, despite it all, reminders of him still slipped through. You’d scroll through social media, and every so often, an ATP post would pop up: Ben at a tournament, Ben celebrating a point, Ben grinning with that easy charm that used to make your heart ache. He looked different now. His curls were longer, spilling out from over his sweaty headband, and his frame had hardened, leaner, with muscle that seemed to outline his strength in sharper lines. His chubby cheeks had slimmed down into something harder, replaced by the quiet confidence of someone who’d grown, adapted, maybe even suffered a little.

And you could almost feel it, the quaking, gaping pain of missing him, but you’d swallow it back down, pull yourself together, and look away.

Your own press conferences became something else entirely. You were more composed, a bit sharper with your words, confident in a way you hadn’t been before. Where you used to smile shyly or laugh softly, now you leaned in with humour, a hint of flirtation, your charm more self-assured. You handled reporters’ questions deftly, especially the ones that tried to pry about Ben. The same questions came up over and over:

“So, do you still keep in touch with Ben?”

Each time, you’d respond with a practised, cool smile. “Right now, I’ve got all the support I need from my team and the people I have with me.” You’d turn the conversation to your work, your skill, and your grind on the court, dismissing the topic with subtle elegance, always steering it back to your goals, your game, and your people.

Yet, away from the cameras, the facade cracked, if only slightly. Sometimes, after a long match or a particularly brutal day of training, you’d find yourself scrolling through your old photos or feeling tears prickling your eyes, this messy situation taking a bigger toll than you would like to admit.

In his hotel room, Ben watched your interviews alone, a faint crease between his brows. There you were, in all your brilliance, flashing a confident smile at the camera, handling the press with a wit and boldness that felt both familiar and strange. He could see the way you’d grown, the way you’d steeled yourself, and it stirred something in him, a pang he couldn’t ignore. It was like watching someone he knew intimately and yet… not at all. The way you answered questions about him, and your subtle redirection to your career and team, it stung. Maybe it was petty, but he missed the way you used to talk about him with such pride, with that lovestruck glow. He loved seeing how shy you would get at the sheer mention of his name. Your hair was different, your skin glowing, you had more confidence, even if it came off a bit cocky but he still felt like you were his, just as much as he was yours. Ben didn’t know how to reach out, didn’t know what he’d even say. There was a distance now, both physical and emotional, that seemed impossible to bridge. He’d scroll through his own phone sometimes, finding old messages, ones before distance got the better of you both, photos of the two of you, half-written scripts in his Notes app he couldn’t bring himself to deliver. If he flew out tonight to you, what would he even do after? He’d think of calling you, of reaching out somehow, but the memory of your last fight, the bitterness in your voice, the way you’d shut him out… it held him back.

One evening, as you sat alone in the players' lounge, your forehead pressed against the back of the sofa, you felt that familiar ache pulse through you, the one that came every time you thought of him. It was then that Coco came by, her familiar, steady presence filling the room as she settled down across from you, cross-legged on the seat in front of you. Over the past year, it was Ben that introduced you but, you and Coco had grown even closer, bound not just by shared victories and losses but by the pressures only someone like her could truly understand.

Coco tilted her head, her gaze warm but unwavering. “Alright,” she said, cutting through the silence. “What’s really going on? Are you… over him?”

You exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I wish I could say yes,” you murmured. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to move on, focus on the game, on everything else, but… he’s still everywhere. Even when I’m doing well, even when I’m focused, it’s like… something’s missing.” Your voice dropped to barely a whisper. “It’s like I can’t fully shake him.”

Coco nodded, her expression both sympathetic and knowing. “I get it. You two had something real, something intense. But maybe this time apart is what you both need. I mean, look at you. You’re stronger now, on and off the court. Maybe that’s part of this whole journey, you know?”

You managed a faint smile, though your heart still felt heavy. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. It just… doesn’t always feel like enough.”

She reached out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me. If he’s the right guy, he’ll figure it out, too. Until then? Focus on your game. Focus on you.”

Her words stayed with you, offering a small but steady comfort in the days that followed. You have been throwing yourself into training, pouring everything into the sport, trying to find solace in each match and each moment of growth. Somewhere out there, he was doing the same, and maybe, just maybe, this was what was best.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t completely smother the small spark of hope, that someday, somehow, your paths might cross again.

It was similar in the men’s locker room, Ben slumped forward on the bench, his elbows propped on his knees as he stared blankly at the floor, holding an uncapped bottle of water. Frances Tiafoe, who’d been eyeing him from across the room, exchanged a knowing glance with Taylor Fritz before making his way over.

“Alright, bro, spill it,” Frances said, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he leaned in. “You’ve been lookin’ like you’re living in some sad dog for weeks.”

Ben gave him a sidelong glance. “There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

Taylor rolled his eyes as he joined them, settling down on the other side of Ben. “Come on, man. We’re not blind. Ever since she blocked you, you’ve been… different.”

Ben scoffed, looking away, his voice low. “She didn’t just block me, man. She… she threw down, real hard. Said some things I thought she’d never say.”

Frances let out a low whistle. “Was that rough, huh?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, rubbing a hand over his face, his frustration mingling with regret. “It all just blew up. We were on a call, talkin’ like usual, and suddenly… it was like everything we hadn’t said just came out. She starts throwin’ things at me about how I’m not there, like… like I don’t care enough or not workin' hard enough. And it pissed me off, you know? I work just as hard, and it’s not like I’m sittin’ around, right?”

Taylor nodded, leaning back against the lockers. “So, what’d you do?”

Ben shrugged, his expression pained. “I pushed back, told her she couldn’t keep actin’ like she’s the only one workin’ for this. Told her ATP is just as tough, maybe even more competitive. Didn’t mean it that way, but she took it wrong. She thought I was tryin’ to downplay her game.”

Frances shook his head, giving Ben a sympathetic look. “Man, she must’ve felt hurt.”

“Yeah,” Ben muttered, a bitter laugh escaping him. “And next thing I know, I get this text. ‘This isn’t workin', we’re done.’ Blocked me on everything. Cold as ice, man. It’s like she flipped a switch, just… shut me out completely, as easy as shuttin' a door.”

Frances gave him a gentle nudge. “You still care about her?”

Ben’s gaze softened, a faint smile breaking through his frustration. “Yeah, man. She’s… she’s my girl. Even if she’s not my girl right now, you know?”

Taylor chuckled, nodding. “So, what’re you gonna do about it? Sit around here moping, or actually make a move?”

Ben sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I supposed to do? She’s made it pretty clear she’s done with me.”

Frances grinned, crossing his arms. “Bro, just ‘cause she blocked you and sent a text after you called her game easy, doesn’t mean it’s over. She’s mad, yeah, but she’s probably missin’ you just as much. You just gotta show her you’re willin’ to do what it takes.”

Taylor nodded in agreement, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “And it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture, man. Sometimes, it’s the small things. Something to let her know you’re still thinkin’ of her, still care. You know where we're at next, right?”

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “And do what? Just show up at her hotel room? She’s liable to call cops on my ass for that shit, bro.”

Frances laughed, shrugging. “So what? At least she’ll know you tried! Don't go doin' that though. Look, I’ve been with my girl for years now, and sometimes, you gotta be willing to look like a fool to show her you care.”

Ben leaned back, their words sinking in. He could still feel the sting of the things she’d said, the accusations she’d thrown at him like he didn’t care, didn’t work just as hard. But he couldn’t deny that he’d made mistakes, too. He’d let his pride get in the way, said things he regretted, and let the frustration of it all get the better of him.

Frances nudged him again, his grin widening. “Think about it, man. You got two choices: sit here, feeling sorry for yourself until she finds some other guy, or actually do something about it and get her back, even if that means standing in the rain with a fuckin' speaker.”

Ben finally cracked a smile, looking between his friends. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

“Hey, maybe,” Taylor said with a shrug. “But at least we got girlfriends. And you? You got a chance to get yours back. Just gotta decide if she’s worth it.”

Ben sat there, mulling over their words as a new determination started to burn within him. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, and maybe there was a lot he’d have to figure out. But if there was even a chance to fix things, to bridge that gap that felt so wide, he wasn’t about to let his pride hold him back.

As he left the locker room that night, he felt a resolve solidify within him. He’d find a way to reach out, to let her know that no matter how far apart they were, she was still the one he wanted. Because when it came down to it, she was worth every bit of the fight.

A week went by before a 1000 game flew in, and both ATP and WTA were present if not, nearby for the games. You couldn't care less what was at stake, anything was a win if it kept you occupied. The courts were almost empty, shadows lengthening as the sun beamed high above. You bounced the ball steadily, the rhythm calm, your focus laser-sharp. The only sounds were the muted thud of your shoes on the court, and your breath falling into sync with the beat of your earbuds. Nothing but you, the court, and the quiet.

But then, that voice broke through.

"Aw, c'mon, man!" A laugh, deep and full of that unmistakable Southern drawl. Your grip faltered, the ball hovering mid-toss. That laugh, it was a sound you hadn’t let yourself think about for months, one that held too much of him.

Ben.

Your pulse jolted, the memories flooding back, warmth and bitterness tangled in the knots of your chest. You gritted your teeth, tossing the ball high before slamming it against the court, the crack of impact sharp in the quiet. It almost felt satisfying, like you could obliterate the tension he brought, shatter it with sheer force.

Almost.

You readied another serve, the ball bouncing harder than necessary as you forced yourself not to look. But you could feel his gaze, that familiar weight of his eyes lingering on you. The pull was magnetic, almost maddening, and despite every ounce of resolve you’d built up, your gaze betrayed you, slipping over to catch a glimpse of him.

Ben, laughing with Taylor, curls tousled longer than before, his hoodie slung carelessly over those familiar, ridiculous short shorts. The same hoodie you'd worn too many times to count, drowning in its warmth during late-night snack runs and lazy Sundays. The sight tugged painfully, a cruel reminder of the little things you’d pushed down, tried to forget.

He caught you looking, and his laughter faded, his gaze holding yours for just a second too long. You gripped the ball tighter, the ache settling heavy, and forced yourself to turn away, channelling the flurry of memories into another sharp serve, a fierce crack reverberating across the court. You didn’t look back again.

Hours later, your body was tired, your mind a bit clearer. You were scrolling through your phone in the lounge, zoning out, when Coco dropped down beside you with that familiar, mischievous grin.

"Hey, you!" She nudged you, hands on her hips.

You eyed her warily. "What’s up, Coco? Awfully perky for...5:30p.m."

“We’re having dinner tonight. Big group. Wanna come?” Her tone was casual, a little too casual.

Your guard went up immediately as you dropped your phone to your lap. “Who’s ‘we all’?”

Coco shrugged, twirling a loose curl around her finger. “Me, Frances, Arthur… maybe another WTA girl or two. Just a fun little dinner. Nothing formal.”

You narrowed your eyes, reading the glint of mischief in hers. "Coco, don’t mess with me. He's not gonna be there, right?"

She tilted her head, pretending to look innocent, but the sly smile gave her away. "Well… he might show up, but that's on his own accord. I didn't mention anything to Ben and it’s not like anyone’s setting anything up! It’s just dinner."

Your stomach twisted, a sigh slipping from your lips as you looked away. “I don’t think so. Not after… everything.” Your voice softened the weight of old arguments and unsaid things hanging between the words.

Coco’s face softened, her hand finding your shoulder. “Look, I’m not saying you have to sit next to him or anything. It’s a big table. You can stay on the opposite end and ignore him if that’s what you need. But everyone misses you, it’s been ages since we all got together. We all need to see your pretty face off the court too, ya know?”

You hesitated, rolling your eyes, the ache of missing them settling somewhere deep, the sense of family you hadn’t felt in months tugging at you. After a long pause, you finally nodded, rolling your shoulders back as if bracing for a match. “Fine. But I’m serious, Coco, no funny business. If he starts anything, I’m out.”

Coco grinned, throwing her arm around you. “Girl, trust me. If anything, you’ll be giving him the funny looks. Just friends, no drama. Now, let’s go get you out of those sweats.”

Meanwhile, in the locker room across the court, Ben was doing his best to act indifferent as Frances nudged him for the third time.

"C'mon, man!" Frances said, leaning against the lockers with a knowing grin. "So you are coming to this dinner tonight, right? Don't make me beg again, I'll start singing.”

Ben tried to play it cool, leaning back with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, man. You really think it’s a good idea?”

Frances rolled his eyes. “Look, you’ve been moping for months. She’s not gonna make a scene in public, and especially not with all of us, and who knows? Maybe she’ll talk to you, be all civil. It’s worth a shot.”

Ben let out a huff, rubbing the back of his neck. “Civil? You remember the last time we spoke, right? She has me blocked on everything.”

Taylor, stretching nearby, smirked and chimed in. “Man, you got nothin’ to lose. At the very least, you’ll see her. I saw how you were after you caught a glimpse of her training earlier. Besides, Frances and Coco will keep her from killin’ you.”

“Kay, thanks,” Ben muttered, though a flicker of hope sparked under the sarcasm. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t shake the longing to see her again, to maybe fix even a sliver of what had been broken.

Taylor nudged him, grinning. “Hey, listen, if I wasn’t taking Morgan out tonight, I’d be there just for moral support. But hey, maybe next time it’ll be a double date. Me, you, Morgan and your soon-to-be girlfriend, just like old times.”

Ben shook his head, the thought both terrifying and oddly thrilling. “You’re jokin’, right? She’d probably throw her drink at me before she’d sit through a double date.”

“Only if you act like an idiot,” Frances pointed out, laughing. “Just be yourself, man. You can handle the heat on the court, you can handle this. And maybe tonight’ll be the thing that finally breaks the ice.”

Ben sighed, running a hand over his face before finally surrendering. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll go. But Frances, don’t expect me to be all… chatty.”

Frances clapped him on the back, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, you say that now. But I know how you get around her, man. Just don’t chicken out. Remember, we got your back.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile nervously, feeling a strange mix of dread and anticipation tighten in his chest. He wasn’t sure if this dinner would be a chance at redemption or just a painful reminder of how far they’d drifted, but one thing was clear, he was tired of hiding from whatever was left between them.

You walk into the restaurant and let Coco lead you to a long table, feeling an odd mix of nerves and determination fluttering in your stomach. Your outfit is cute but simple, just a sweater and leggings; just enough effort to feel put together without trying too hard. You take a seat between Coco and Arthur Fils, with Frances across from you. There’s an empty chair across from Arthur, and for some reason, that empty space makes your heart beat a little faster, feeling torn between wanting and avoiding Ben there.

As everyone settles in, you catch Coco’s eye and mutter, “Please tell me he’s not actually coming.” She just shrugs with an easy smile.

Moments later, as the group banters along, about to order drinks, Ben strolls in, catching you entirely off-guard. He’s slightly out of breath, apologising to the group with that familiar grin, explaining he’s late because he’d just finished showering after practice. You can’t help it, you nudge Coco under the table, whispering through gritted teeth, a frustrated, “Great.”

Coco just gives him a casual greeting, and you force yourself to turn back to the table, focusing your attention on ordering a glass of wine, pretending not to notice him as he takes that empty seat across from Arthur, just barely within your view, diagonally. But as he sits down, you feel his eyes on you, and for a brief moment, you glance up and catch him staring, his face almost dazed.

You’re caught off-guard by the look in his eyes. His breath seems to hitch, his big brown eyes wide and you can see a faint blush creeping up his neck as he stares at you, almost like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. There’s a softness in his expression that you weren’t prepared for, a kind of awe that makes your stomach twist with memories and longing. But just as quickly, you look away, turning your attention to your wine as Frances elbows Ben with a teasing hiss, “Be normal, man.”

Throughout the night, you manage to keep to yourself, mostly talking to the other WTA players or Arthur whenever he cracks a joke. You keep Ben at the edge of your vision, resolute in ignoring the way his gaze keeps drifting back to you.

Every once in a while, Ben attempts to draw you into the conversation, maybe a lighthearted comment or a direct question, but each time, you meet his gaze with a steely look, making it clear with just one glance that you’re not interested. When he tries again, you let your eyes meet his for a moment, long enough to show him you’re serious before turning away, cutting off his effort entirely, almost to say "not interested". Across the table, Frances raises his brows, murmuring with a barely hidden smirk, “Damn, she is good at this,” as Ben slouches slightly, clearly trying not to look embarrassed.

As dinner winds down, the plates are cleared away, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment alone. Inside, you take a deep breath, facing yourself in the mirror. You’d been bracing yourself for tonight, but nothing quite prepared you for how it would feel to see him sitting right there, looking at you with those big sweet brown eyes and a pout, filled with that same soft pleading that used to make you melt.

But tonight, all it did was remind you of those late nights waiting by your phone, checking it over and over for messages that came slower and slower until they just…stopped. It reminds you of the countless hours wondering if you mattered as much as you thought you did, replaying his empty promises and half-hearted reassurances that seemed to fade with each passing day. He couldn't expect you to take him back with a pout and some half-assed joke. But damn, was it a good attempt, he knew how to make you crumble, even if it wasn't his sole intention.

You force yourself to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you look in the bathroom mirror examining yourself with a sigh, applying a bit of lip balm with fingers that tremble just slightly. Anything to distract yourself, to remind yourself that you’re strong enough to face this without breaking, reminding yourself to keep that mask on. You straighten your posture, determined to push all those memories back down where they belong, buried.

But just as you step out of the bathroom, Ben is standing right there, leaning against the wall as if he’d been waiting for you. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours, and he opens his mouth, his voice just a whisper. “Can we…talk? Just the two of us?”

The look he gives you, hopeful, no, desperate, stirs something deep inside you, and you clench your jaw, wanting to say no, wanting to walk away without a second thought. But as much as you’d like to ignore it, part of you still aches for some kind of closure, maybe even just one honest conversation.

With a reluctant sigh, you nod. “Fine. Outside.”

As you head out the restaurant’s door, you quickly fire off a text to Coco:

me n Ben talking outside. brb.

You stuff your phone back into your bag, clutching it tightly to your shoulder as you step into the cool night air. Wrapping your arms under your chest, you try to keep yourself shielded from more than just the chilling breeze.

Ben falls into step beside you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. There’s a moment of silence as you both find your footing, the quiet thick with everything that’s been left unsaid. You glance sideways, catching him opening his mouth like he’s about to say something, only to close it, his shoulders shifting awkwardly.

“So… how’s the tournament going for you?” he starts, his tone casual, a little too casual.

You blink, trying not to roll your eyes, feeling the irritation growing. Really? But you bite back and just sternly say, “Ben.”

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing up at the streetlights overhead. “Sorry, yeah, that was- uh, okay.” He lets out a breath and shuffles closer, his voice almost a murmur. “I just… I wanna make this right. Another chance- Just thought maybe… you know, talkin’ would be easier if…”

“Ben, stop.” You sigh, tightening your grip on your bag strap. “Stop being weird. Just… just say what you have to say, and let’s get this over with. Let's not make this longer than it needs to be, I've got shit to do tomorrow.”

He glances at you, brows knitting together. For a second, he looks almost frustrated, like he’s holding back something sharper, something rougher. But he lets it pass, letting out a long, resigned breath. “Fine. I’ll just ask one thing.”

You arch an eyebrow, scepticism thick in your voice. “One question. Shoot.”

His voice comes out softer, edged with a hesitant curiosity as if he knows it’s a stupid question but can’t help but ask. “What hotel you stayin’ at?”

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “The Merrion.”

His eyes widen slightly, a small, stupid smile breaking on his face. “No way… me too.”

You sigh, looking up at the night sky, feeling the inevitability of whatever this night is becoming. Of course, he’s at the same hotel. Only Ben could make the universe align like this. And only Ben would think of a stupid question like that. He shifts his weight, stepping closer, his gaze steady.

“Look,” he starts, “it’s just a short walk back, twenty minutes or so. Just… give me that time. Just enough to walk back. Let me talk. And then you can go to your room and go to bed. How 'bout it?”

There’s a hopeful edge in his voice that you can’t ignore, and for a moment, your resolve falters. It’s ridiculous, this is exactly the sort of thing he would come up with, some half-baked plan to get you to keep listening, to keep him around just a little longer. You want to roll your eyes, to brush him off, but something about the way he’s looking at you, those earnest, brown eyes so damn full of longing, makes you sigh.

“Fine,” you mutter. “But if you get weird again, I’m out. No small talk, you know how much I hate it.”

A small grin creeps onto his face, and he falls into step beside you, a little closer than necessary, his arm brushing against yours as you start down the quiet street. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, just walks alongside you, letting the silence settle around you both. But then, in that familiar southern drawl, his voice comes softer.

“Y’know, I've been thinkin’ ‘bout us a lot… probably more than I should.”

You keep your eyes on the sidewalk ahead, willing yourself to stay unmoved. “And?”

He swallows, his gaze tracing your profile, softening with each word. “I messed up,” he admits. “I know I did. I shoulda… been there more, answered more, I dunno. Shoulda been better at handlin’ it.”

You nod slightly, keeping your face blank. “Mhm, you should've.”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his expression, but he doesn’t let it throw him off. “You think I didn’t feel it too? That whole time, it felt like- hell, like I was losin’ you, like somethin’ was slippin’ right outta my hands, and I couldn’t do nothin’ to stop it.”

You feel the tension in your shoulders loosen just a fraction, though you keep your arms folded as a kind of armour. His words settle into the silence, raw and rough, and you can feel him glancing over, waiting for some kind of response. But you keep your gaze forward, biting back the little stirrings of emotion that are beginning to creep in.

He keeps talking, voice low and steady, drawing you in without giving you a chance to look away. “I’m not tryin’ to make excuses, alright? I know I coulda tried harder. But it’s like… the more I tried, the harder it got. The distance, the time zones, the schedules… it all just made me feel like I couldn’t keep up. And I just didn't know how to juggle it and that's my fault.”

You shake your head slightly, finally glancing over at him, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of your mouth. “So this is your way of apologising?”

He laughs, a little sheepish. “Guess I’m not real good at it, huh?” He nudges you with his shoulder, a familiar, easy gesture that makes your arms slowly loosen. His hand brushes your arm, just for a second, and a warmth blooms where his fingers graze your skin as if your body’s memory of him can’t help but respond.

“Look,” he says, his voice dipping softer, “I just… I miss you so much. Like hell.”

The honesty in his tone hits you hard, unravelling the cold exterior you’ve worked so hard to keep up. He keeps his eyes on you, watching your face carefully as if gauging your reaction. You feel your resolve slipping even more, your arms slowly falling to your sides, your heart aching as you fight against the wave of warmth that’s threatening to break through.

“Ben…” you start, barely a whisper, but you don’t know what to say, feeling torn.

He moves a little closer, his eyes wide, pleading, like he’s trying to hold onto every inch of you he can. “I know I messed up, okay? But I don’t wanna lose you. Not for good. Please, Y/N. Give me one more chance, you won't regret it 'n if I fuck up bad, you can do whatever, however; I deserve it but please. Just one more chance.”

You press your lips tight together, feeling your heart tighten as his words sink in, as he stands there looking at you with that same vulnerability you’d once fallen in love with. For a second, you forget the hurt, the sleepless nights, and you’re left with just him, the version of him that’s open, sincere, the Ben you’d once held so close.

The walk to the hotel stretches out as he keeps talking, spilling out and laying his heart bare with that easy, boyish charm that only he can pull off, and little by little, you feel your icy exterior start to melt. He talks about his time away from you, how he admired you from videos, watched highlight reels, his endless hours at night going through photos and texts; the whole lot. He cracks a joke, and despite yourself, you smile, trying to hide it but failing. He nudges you again, grinning as he sees the hint of laughter breaking through your guard.

He apologises over and over, more earnestly each time, his voice steady and low, and you can hear the regret, the guilt, the need to make things right. By the time you reach the hotel entrance, you’re feeling something dangerously close to hope, your heart betraying you, making it harder and harder to keep up the facade.

You glance over at him, catching the way his eyes soften as he looks at you as if you’re the only thing he can see. He’s staring, the blush from earlier creeping back up his neck, and when his hand brushes yours one last time, you don’t pull away.

You stand just outside the hotel, a faint chill brushing past as the streetlights cast a warm glow around you. You shift on your feet, glancing up at him, your eyes soft but determined.

“Can I talk?” you ask, breaking the quiet, your voice barely above a whisper. The first thing you had actually said this entire time.

Ben raises an eyebrow, leaning in with a playful smirk. “Talk? What else have we been doin’ for the last twenty minutes, girl?”

You roll your eyes and reach out to smack his arm, earning a chuckle from him. “Fine then. Can we go up to your room?” you add, a small, daring smile tugging at your lips.

Ben’s eyebrow quirks higher. “My room, huh?” His gaze narrows, teasing you with that familiar glint. “What exactly ya got planned, sweetheart?”

You swat him again, harder this time, and he laughs, raising his hands in mock defence. But then you drop the smile, your voice softer. “I wanna talk about what I did, Ben. I messed up too.”

The teasing fades from his expression as he studies your face, searching. After a pause, he nods and gestures toward the lobby. “Alright, then. Let’s go talk.”

In the elevator, silence hangs thick in the air, tension as familiar as it is unspoken. You don't even notice, spending your time stilling your breath and running through everything you want to apologise for. When you reach his room, you head over to the small couch by the window and settle in, tucking your legs under you and giving him a steady look.

“Ya gettin’ comfortable already?” he jokes, leaning against the wall, his eyes dancing with that old spark that makes you ache.

You try not to smile, steeling yourself for your confessional. “Can you be serious for a minute?”

His smile fades as he walks over, sitting across from you, his gaze intense and focused. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you’ve held back.

“I shouldn’t have put so many expectations on you,” you begin, your voice wavering. “You’ve got your own life, your own competitions, your own dreams. All this constant travelling, the different time zones… it’s not fair to expect you to be there every time I needed you at the drop of a hat. You get burnt out too- God. I never even asked how you were before I'd launch into my own day.”

You bite your lip, blinking back tears as they start to blur your vision. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve been more understanding, given you more grace.” Your voice catches, barely a whisper now. “And what I said… on that call… it was cruel, Ben. I was mean and unfair, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it. At all. I wouldn't want myself back after all I had said and done.”

As a tear slips down your cheek, Ben’s face softens, and he reaches out without hesitation, his hands cupping your face as he brushes the tear away. His thumb lingers on your skin, his gaze is unwavering, and then he leans forward, pressing the gentlest kiss to your temple, another to your forehead, and a final one at the crown of your head, his hand resting tenderly against your hair.

You let out a shuddered breath, your hands covering his as you finally let everything pour out. “I miss you so much,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I miss everything about you… the way you laugh, your ridiculous voice…” Another tear rolls down, and you don’t try to hold back. “I miss the way you’d talk about cars or food for ages, and you’d make everything feel so normal, even when my life was a mess. Without you, it’s like this haze I can’t shake. I just… I miss you. I barely recognise myself these days.”

Your body shakes with the sobs you’ve tried so hard to bury, and Ben doesn’t hesitate. He pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms like he could shield you from all the pain, all the regret. He holds you there, one hand smoothing over your hair, his lips pressing soft, tender kisses to your forehead and cheeks, murmuring gentle words against your skin.

“S’all right, darlin’,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’m right here with you.”

You cling to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, as his hands trace soothing circles along your back. Your sobs gradually quiet, but your breaths are still shaky, each exhale unsteady.

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” you manage, voice barely audible.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Hey now,” he murmurs, his tone warm and grounding. “We both made mistakes. Ain’t just on you, alright? Takes two to mess up, but it takes two to fix it too. We can fix, can't we?”

You nod, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, feeling a little of the weight lift, softened by his words.

Ben tilts your head to hold your gaze, his own eyes glassy. “Can’t tell ya how many times I thought about callin’ ya or flying to ya,” he admits, his voice low. “How many times I’d pull up your name, wonderin’ what you’d say if I told ya all the things I wished I’d said. But I was… hell, I was scared, darlin’. Thought maybe I’d screwed up too bad, and you’d moved on.”

You shake your head, a small, breathy laugh escaping. “I couldn’t...I could never.”

He strokes your hair gently, his lips brushing your forehead once more. “Guess we’re both a couple of fools then, huh?”

You laugh softly, the sound wet and trembling as he pulls you back into his arms. You lean into him, letting yourself feel the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart, grounding you. Wrapped in the quiet, tangled together, you both hold on a little tighter, feeling the rawness of your honesty and the comfort of finally, finally being close again. In the safety of his arms, you feel, for the first time in so long, a sense of peace, letting the unspoken words settle around you like a quiet promise.

Ben’s hand rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles as he learns your face all over again, making your heart flutter. His fingers move slowly, grazing down to your jaw, then up again, threading into your hair. You let your eyes close for a moment, his gentle touch working its way through the tension of the night, and a small, contented sigh escapes you. For the first time in weeks, you feel relaxed and content.

“Gettin’ comfortable, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, though there’s a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He leans in, giving one final push to a stray strand of your hair before tilting his head toward the bed across the room. “C’mon, darlin’. This couch is barely holdin’ us together.”

You hesitate, but Ben’s already moving, holding out his hand as he stands up. His grip is strong, guiding you as you follow him to the bed, and he lets out a soft chuckle as you settle beside him. His arm drapes around you, pulling you close as you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you. The warmth is so consuming, cocooning you immediately.

Ben smiles down at you, a playful glint in his eye, and as his fingers find your hair again, he starts twirling a strand between his fingers. “So,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “ya still gonna keep me blocked, huh?”

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Fine,” you reply, unlocking your phone with a playful huff. You find his name, well, technically his new contact name since you’d deleted him in a fit of anger, and type a single white heart emoji, pressing send.

The vibration of his phone buzzes beside him, and he pulls it out with a grin, holding up the glowing screen. “There it is. Knew ya couldn’t resist me,” he says, laughing as he pulls you in close as he kisses your temple.

But just as you relax against him, you notice a missed notification. It’s a text from Coco, her reply to your earlier message asking where she’d disappeared to after dinner. You hesitate, then, instead of texting back, you tap the Facetime icon, feeling a strange urge to share this quiet moment, finding words couldn't suffice, nor were you in the mood to type out a lengthy paragraph.

The call connects, and Coco’s face appears, a gasp escaping her as she spots you two tangled up in Ben’s bed, nestled together with his arm around you.

“Oh my god! Yes!” she cheers, loud enough to make Ben chuckle. You hear laughter and cheers in the background too, and Coco turns the camera, revealing the whole dinner table watching with knowing smiles.

"Coco, this was a set-up plan, huh?" you giggle as you see the entire friend group on the other end.

"Somewhat, but blame Morgan and Taylor, not me. They did all that," she throws the blame as she points the camera over to them. Frances, Morgan and Taylor wave and Frances yells “Look at Ben! Already got her in bed, huh?”

Ben rolls his eyes, but a faint blush colours his cheeks. He pulls you closer, his hand resting protectively around your shoulders as he grins.

“Hey now,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “This one’s special. Ain’t like any other. My lucky charm.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you’re so focused on him that you barely notice Coco and the others making gagging noises before Ben reaches out, ending the call on your phone with a smirk. Then he turns back to you, his eyes soft, filled with something that feels dangerously like forever.

He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender, each second lingering with quiet promises. And in the warmth of his arms, your heart finally feels at home, exactly where it belongs.

[talenlee]

3e: Winners and Losers In Lawful Space

Planescape is a silly place.

Dungeons & Dragons is a wholeheartedly silly game, and it’s important to remember that what makes it silly is an expansive growth out of a particular root. It is a tree of many branches but thanks to the way that it encourages people to build their own things on top of it, it has become a sprawling kind of folk narrative and generally accepted consensus material that then a company comes along and tries to augment and supplement. Still, as much as a corporate mind is at the head of what gets published, what gets handed to that corporation is going to derive from the mind of a dork who likes D&D. To that end, D&D’s lore is a constant push-pull between the kinds of nerds who like organising lists and the kind of nerds who like to invent new types of dragons they want to have sex with and they’re all trying to integrate one another’s material because that’s how nerds demonstrate mastery over a topic.

The result is that D&D lore is composed of parts that neatly and smoothly fit together and parts that should be airbrushed on the side of a van, and all subjects exist in a space between those two points, on a spectrum. And nowhere is this more evident than in the way that 2e’s setting Planescape introduced elements that 3rd edition tried to hide.

Planescape, as a setting, exists very close to the ‘airbrushed on a Van’ side of things, and it’s extremely obvious when you look at its roots in 2nd Edition. In this space, much of what makes Planescape Planescape was codified. For those of you unfamiliar, Planescape is a setting made up of the idea of ‘planes’ as distinct, discrete universes with their own rules separated not by time and space, but just by barriers or magical boundaries. You know how Narnia is supposed to work, with the wardrobe? It’s like that, but there are a lot more wardrobes and they all go to different places. Think a sort of multi-level Isekai scheme.

Anyway, it’s a setting with like, multiple whole universe-sized worlds, that may or may not have planets inside them, some of which follow a very narrow set of identifying rules, like the elemental plane of Fire, which is full of Fire, or are just like ‘here, but a bit weird,’ like Bitopia, which is a whole plane that is mirrored vertically at a certain height. If you look up in Bitopia, you see another whole country up there – that’s why it’s called that. Also everyone there is bisexual.

Planescape sought to build out more of that structured universe and then in each structured space, fill it with interesting notions. But the structure is a little odd, in that it’s hard to make an infinite number of chairs organise neatly, someone is always putting out one more where they shouldn’t. That means there are tidy diagrams of the Planar cosmology, and then you look inside any of the bubbles in that diagram and find it’s full of gibberish.

It was in 2e that, as far as I know, we were introduced world-wise, to the characters of the Modrons.

There’s a whole writing form that involves referring to Modrons in deliberately obtuse ways, with Modrons being the individual, plural, categorical, and utility terms for this people, but what you need to know about them is that Modrons are weird lil guys that are made out of a basic geometric shape – pyramid, cube, dodecahedron, all the way up to sphere (or down to sphere, depending on who you ask). They are truly perfect Lil Guys, a byproduct of a plane of true law and order which doesn’t in any way cohere to what humans (the people playing the game) necessarily assume about law.

They make a lot of sense in a storybook kind of way where you don’t need to have big answers for what they are or how they work or even how their philosophical bias towards pure lawfulness works. In the world of 2ed, where sometimes things that sound like they should be well explained, clear rules are kinda yada-yada-yada’d in a space that you might imagine is flavour text, the Modrons left a bunch of questions unanswered and seemingly, that was good. It was good that they were heavily ambiguous because what was the life cycle of ‘an orb?’ Any answer made them less mysterious and pushed them away from the oddness that they represented.

Anyway, 3e was an attempt by a serious company to do serious things and that’s why when they went back to talk about the Creatures That Lived In The Lawful Planes, they came up with the Inevitables.

Inevitables are the demons of small minds, writ large. Literally, the point of an Inevitable is to be a Lawful Neutral version of a Demon, an entity that exists purely based on rules, coalesced out of a world made of rules, and with nothing holding them back from expressing that. Each of the Inevitables is meant to respond to a rule in the universe and then enforce it. They are self-appointed near-immortal construct cops, and they’re meant to oppose things and people that break the rules that they, specifically, are meant to care about.

These rules are completely out of whack, though, because one of them is meant to enforce say, justice, another the inevitability of death and another, the way the desert is a fixed ecosystem that nobody should try and change or interact with. And in that case, there are a bunch of plants that the Inevitables are going to have issues with, that don’t seem to be capable of forming complex political allegiances.

There’s a really interesting distinction between Inevitables and Modrons, to me. Modrons are weird and interesting but also, there’s nothing they can do that answers a question. Inevitables are a fun challenge that’s supposed to be present to oppose players or potentially be recruited into an adventure, but not for too long. But Inevitables, the 3e attempt to populate Lawful Planes with A Kind of Guy, sort of fell apart and are now more of a trivia question while Modrons have endured into 4th and 5th edition.

I don’t think there’s some greater, better reason for it or anything. I don’t think that Inevitables failed because they were Bad Design or something. But I do think that for me, the way that Modrons represented Weirdness was much more interesting than the ways the Inevitables sucked weirdness away with their simple, clear consideration of certain things as being part of natural reality.

After all: Inevitables would hunt down people who extended their lifespans because ‘everyone must die.’ But Inevitables were immortal. That’s a pretty interesting thing to juxtapose and maybe a character could struggle with that.

Or maybe they could make a big speaking trumpet and demand that everyone else refer to them as a Spokesmodron which is, in my opinion, much funnier.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[canaidliafail]

stay grounded pt.2

streamer Abby anderson x streamer reader 🌿

[part 1] [part 3]

TW: weed & poor usage of the english language. MDI

quick note: HUUUUGE thank you to all the comments and reblogs and asks 🥹🤲🏻 I never thought I would get to experience such overwhelming support regarding my silly lil fics so Im very grateful and hope you enjoy the upcoming parts just as much

24 full hours passed until the moment you were almost ready to open her message. You didn’t know what to say or what she was going to ask. You liked the message there because what if the conversation just didn’t go well? What if she was reaching out to complain about your fans ? or what if…well just

what if

You checked the time and then your phone.Depending on where she lived you either were about to respond way too early or way too late and that mattered to you a lot because you needed to have excuses made accordingly for he lack of responding

“she is at the gym” or “she’s probably asleep”

“heyyyy :)” you typed the response and stared at it for a hard minute. Was it childish? no it was fine, it seemed friendly

you erased it and typed a “hi :)”

no now I seem passive aggressive

you erased it again and typed a “heyy” and pressed send before you could overthink that as well. Your eyes were glued on the screen and you almost forgot to blink. After a few minutes you exited the convo and pretended you were busy re-organizing the furniture in your living room and sweeping the surface of the coffee table. Your phone pinged and you lunged yourself on the couch grabbing it and looking at who texted you

It was June who sent you a link to a tiktok.

june: check this out!!!

kys

you typed annoyed and she sent a crying face with a series of messages complaining about how much of a bully you were. You opened your ps4 and decided to continue playing valhalla

your fingers started to twitch and you kept clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth stressed. You needed a distraction so in the spur of the moment you posted a story announcing you would be doing a casual stream playing valhalla in 30 minutes and went to roll a blunt while preparing everything.

you checked your phone one last time to see that your message was still left unopened and you feared it would stay that way.

“fuck snap out of it” you whispered rubbing your temples and taking one last slow drag. You carefully put the blunt on your moon shaped ashtray and left it on the living room along with your phone which was on mute.

You did your makeup and checked yourself ok the monitor a couple of times making sure everything looked right from every angle and looked at the mirror at the side of your computer checking your posture and how the clothes you chose sat on you.

You went for the disheveled look with a baggy T and sweat’s structured in a way that looked messy. You would never admit that this carefree “breezy” look took you a good few hours to perfect

you finally turned on your stream and waited for the majority of people to tune in “Hey everyone!”

you greeted them and started reading through the comments while discreetly checking yourself in the viewfinder so that your jaw stayed sharp and your hair in tact

“Hi nice to have you back Grim!” you tried to engage in longer conversations with names you saw pop up frequently in your streams and 20 minutes in you sat back and went to open your game

“alright I don’t have much time today but I thought we could hang out while I go do some tasks in valhalla. I wanna clear out some regions”

you went back and forth from your game screen to your chat occasionally replying but mostly reacting to the game

“Oh that Eivor figure ? Yes so as much as I want it I just can’t justify a purchase like that yet…But hey its on my wishlist so I owe a date to anyone who gets it for me” you said with a soft chuckle and then paused the game to throw out a disclaimer

“seriously though don’t- I, I mean sure do that if you want to but I know kost of you are college students so please don’t throw your money on me in such a way ok?” you said and checked the chat with a soft smile. A big chunk of your crowd was very sweet saying that they wanted to get you something from your wishlist and you entertained them while also reminding them to be responsible with their money

truthfully you made enough from this job and while your wishlist was open you didn’t have the necessity to ask people for gifts unless they started the conversation first

The stream was nice and slow without much happening till out of nowhere you started hearing more and more often the “subscribed to your channel” notification and started getting confused

“My god, welcome but where are all of you coming from?” you asked genuinely confused and saw the chat interacting with another favored figure. Favored by you and by your overlapping audience

staygrounded69: So this is the game you recommended. Looks interesting

Your ears were burning and your hands started to shake. You pretending to be reading, not trusting yourself to speak without stuttering. Abby, Abigail fucking Anderson was watching your stream

“Oh look whos here! Id tell you all to greet Abs but I'm sure most of you somehow found me through her today” you awkwardly said and went back to the game. Someone shamelessly sent a superchat with a voice note

“Abby should dress up as Eivor. She has the muscles” and your eyes widened at the image of that.

“That's a nice idea but she should play the game and see if she even likes it in the first place guys”

staygrounded69: Im intrigued by it for sure!

you could almost here her, hell you could almost picture the way she would say that and it did nothing to calm your nerves so in a rush you tried to end the stream feigning sleep taking over you and saying a bold lie that you had early classes tomorrow.

Once you logged out you turned off your pc and sat on your chair for a good few minutes breathing in and out thinking back to what had just happened

this was impossible. How? Why? no back to how. Actually why is better

why did she watch my stream?

You jumped off your chair and ran to the living room remembering the message. Sure enough there was a notification from the woman herself. Multiple actually

staygrounded69: the game you suggested seems interesting enough. Wanna gimme a summary of it yourself?

and then

staygrounded69: sorry was that overwhelming? Shit my fans go wild sometimes

You tapped to see her stories and her last was a photo of her living room, her dog Alice on the floor laying and her screen showing your stream. You took a good look at the image and your eyes stayed fixed on the corner of the pic where you could see her cropped frame showing only her spread legs in those mouth watering gray sweatpants

you went back to the messages

No its fine! caught me off guard is all but thanks for the shoutout <33

you answered and cringed at how formal and distant your response seemed

And of course I hope you actually enjoyed my stream

you waited and waited and a few minutes later you saw the sent turn into seen and the three dots appeared of her typing and deleting her message

staygrounded69: I did. Weird I never came across you before but you are very entertaining. Got a good look at what valhalla is about as well

no please don’t judge it by my stream today! its so much more than the shitty little quests I did today

you rushed to send the message, your passion overclouding your judgment and throwing your plans on the mysterious flirting out of the fucking window

You wanted to double text and divert the conversation to something else so that it would keep going but didn’t know how and felt that perhaps, that would’ve been a little more ambitious of you. After all she did only text you about the game in the first place

While you weren’t surprised about it but was a bit crestfallen, the conversation ended there with Abby leaving you on seen

•••

the next two days you obsessively waited for her to post a photo, which she didn’t and waited for a story which there was none and eventually with your friends help you shoved your phone in your bag and tried to get over it

It helped that you had a fat stack of assignments to work through for the week so you buried your head in fabrics and threads and tried to finish the project that was given.

a suit, which meant one inch sewn too far and the thing would be loose and crooked. You used once again yourself as a model for the costume since dragging your friends away from their work and studies didn’t sit well with you. Besides, anyone would be bored of having to sit and wait for you to stitch ,measure, sew, tell them to get up, make them put it on and then do all of that fifty times over till you got the piece right.

Cassie did insist she would love doing that for you given that she had the time but you still refused.

You would love to eventually have an actual model for your end of year fashion show but until then You'd just have to do.

By Friday everything was fixed and wrapped ready to be presented. You were waiting in line as all of you presented your work to the professor and she took her time studying each student's work. You had already tried the suit on and had taken photos to have proof that the measurements were correct both on you and on the doll that you used so you weren't too worried about it.

You had posted the photos on your profile unsure of how they would go since you felt like no one would care enough about things unrelated to the games you play.

“You did a good job. This Fabric though, Why did you choose it?”

your throat was dry and your nerves on edge

“I wanted the extra effect and felt velvet would look good on some parts”

“I see. Try to add extra effect when you learn how to do the basics first, alright?”

You wanted to cry but just gave a curt nod, put the suit back in the bag and went to the back of the class waiting for the short examination to end. This week had a banging start and a Godawful end and you couldn’t wait to go home and sleep it off. You checked the time. one more class and then you were free

In between lectures you decided to head to the cafeteria to see if there was anything left to snack on besides protein bars that tasted like dust or chips which, of course there wasn’t. Kitchen was open only in the early hours which left all of you who had afternoon-night classes to starve and figure it out on your own. With a sigh you went to the guy and asked for a coffee

“I want-“

“Iced latte, sugar and hazelnut syrup. Don’t worry I remember the type of cake you get in your espresso”

you chuckled and leaned against the counter scrolling leisurely through your feed not bothering to check the likes or comments yet

“long week?”

“yeah and I had project presentation too”

“oh shit. What major are you in again?”

“Fashion design and construction. I like it not complaining just-“

You were checking everyone's stories eventually landing on Ellies and had to double check making sure you weren’t mistaken or too sleep deprived to see well. She has shared your post of you wearing your velvet crimson suit. A deep V cut suit and she boldly left a little note at the corner

A good day to be a lesbian

“just?” The barista asked passing you, your coffee which you barely heard, too confused on how she even found you. Making the immediate and only reasonable connection you checked Abby's feed. She had shared your photo a few hours before ellie did and she left a little comment of her own. Way more specific and catered to you making your stomach do a backflip

This woman ♡

Your knees were weak and you started to feel nauseous. You took a seat at the counter looking up at the barista

“mind if I take a seat?”

“sure, did something happen? You don’t look so good”

“I'm fine- thanks…Just light headed”

“alright take your time”

he went back to his work, his frame disappearing behind the door of the -staff only- room leaving you alone.

Thankfully the cafeteria had few people left. two girls at the far east corner on their computers and a guy on the other end of the counter listening to music on his phone and taking notes.

You sent the screenshots to your groupchat. after 10 minutes of being left on “delivered” You spammed them with different meaningless messages to get their attention. Cassie was the first to cave in

cassie: Should we call you international casanova now or…?

CASSIE!!

June: They are both in seattle so I guess she's moving locally

Cassie: Seattle is 1,000€ away from our country so not really

Guys can you help?! Im panicking

Do I text Abby? should I respond

June: YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY?! YES OF COURSE SHE IS SENDING YOU HINTS

Cassie: Damn you really said “I will miss every chance God throws at me”

Rick: sent a link to a facebook post

Cassie: ???

You laughed, feeling a little better trying to ignore the obvious set for failure that any of this flirting was considering that indeed, Abby lived too far

You shook your head and went to respond to her story. If you just thanked her, this wouldn’t go anywhere. If you whined about your teacher this would show uncomfortable familiarity

Took me a week but was worth the effort♡

you responded and her immediate reply came few seconds later

staygrounded69:You made this?! Man you’re talented

No no it's just…measuring and shit.Anyone who’s handy with crafting could learn that

staygrounded69:You could say I'm good with my hands yeah…

You choked on your coffee and started coughing, your arm over your mouth to drown the noise. You had the most stupid smile on your face. You grabbed your bag and decided that you would skip the last class to go back home. No, you needed to enjoy this the way you enjoyed reading a good romance book and the only way to do that was in the comfort of your apartment.

once you reached the bus stop you opened your phone again and went to your chat

Man she was shameless and you leaving her on read for 20 minutes did nothing to make her falter. You could definitely get behind this attitude. It was expected that someone so timid and shy would probably have a nastier side and you really wanted to find out to what extent that went

And here I was hoping to teach you

staygrounded69:That’s one way to spend our date. Learning how to sew sounds interesting

Date? You sure are bold

staygrounded69:Am I? its you who owes me one. Don’t go back on your word now

You looked at the message puzzled, your smile dropping due to the genuine confusion. Did she mistake you for someone else ? Was this message directed to another girl? your bus came and the doors slid open with the rest of the college students walking in. You looked up at their moving frames and finally had a spark of an idea.

it was stupid and a reach but you did make that stupid offer on your stream regarding the ¼ scale Eivor statue.

You checked your wishlist and scrolled all the way down before finally switching to the “purchased” section.

It was there

you went back to your chat

insane. You are insane

staygrounded69; Dont worry about it. Its not the different from getting you coffee

jesus how much do these sponsors pay you?!

you asked and chuckled awkwardly to yourself. Needless to say. You had very well missed your bus too focused on the conversation and the unexpected direction it took. In the back of your mind you had a bad hunch. This didn’t feel like Abby. But you didn’t know Abby so you decided to push it back for once and let yourself enjoy whatever was going on

Staygrounded69: Sponsors are good and all but the real deal comes from my onlyfans

Your brows shot up and your eyes went from your phone to the side of the pavement. You kicked a stone and let it tumble.

She had onlyfans. Abby anderson had onlyfans and you had no idea. Oh this was dangerous information. You were sure your bank was about to cancel your cards by telepathically reading your mind any minute now.

My bad, I had no idea.

staygrounded69: Yeah set it up not too long ago which fuck, I left you on read cause things were all over the place with work. Sorry for that

Your heart felt warm and you were glad to redirect the heat in your pants to somewhere more productive. Preferably that would’ve been your brain but that didn’t work even when Abby wasn’t involved.

its cool, I get it

staygrounded69: Now about that date

I'd love to but I happen to live a few

countries away from yours

staygrounded69: Then how about you make some time for me and we can play a game together sometime this week?

you bit your lip. You could not believe this. You would go on call with her. The most beautiful woman to ever grace this planet wanted to go on a call with you and play a game. Ha! and people say romance is dead

deal 💕

you said and content you locked your phone and took a seat at the bus stop waiting for your ride. You felt a little more appreciative of how your week ended after all

—————————

coming next: cotton exploring Abbys OF page so next episode will finally have some spice <3

thank you for reading

[staghunters]

The case for an ND reading of Jackie Taylor, a decently-sized post.

I got a lot of scrambled thoughts on this, and they need a space for coherence. Maybe this is more for my own headcanon-ing, but feel free to take this if you want to. A lot of this comes down to a certain reading of text that I do with a certain kind of lens that may not be there for everyone. And that's fine! This is just silly analysis stuff that I wanted to do.

Am I an "authority figure" on this? Probably not by some standards! I consider myself to be on some spectrum, but only my brother has a diagnosis (tm), so do with that what you will.

This a mix of new thoughts and some copy-pasted from messages i sent on discord once.

SO, where to start. The first proper introduction of Jackie with other people is that gruelling opening sequence, but I think the more interesting is her first scene with Shauna where we get the big chunk of what the history is between these two and on what dynamic they interact with each other.

Jackie's got the whole thing color-coded and planned out. She likes that, but from all the other things later in the episode -- and the season -- it becomes very clear that she likes to have some input that ranges from voicing her opinion to micro-managing in order to feel in control and somewhat safe in her position as (social) captain of the Yellowjackets.

That Shauna is going to Rutgers with Jackie is taken as a given by her. One interpretation is that Jackie thinks that Shauna, obviously, will go with her to Rutgers on the basis of their friendship. However, I would like to propose a lil switch in that maybe Jackie hopes that Shauna will go with her to Rutgers. Getting into Brown isn't nothing, and there's gotta be some pointers at High School that Shauna would be/feel overqualified for Rutgers.

High school is a game of social credits. Jackie knows what to wear, what to say, what to do. Coach points out her "influence", and she demonstrates some skills at conflict-resolution during the kegger. Soccer is a game, one that she's very passionate about, as is her supposedly on-and-off-ish thing with Jeff. The funny thing is that Jackie seems way more interested in calling out how her boyfriend's team has been doing at baseball, rather than stuff that concerns him (or the both of them) personally.

To segway back a bit: Everything is a game with rules. Jackie knows them, but is shown to be really out of her element in the wilderness and trying to bring back normal societal rules into it (this will be a surprise tool that will help us later). Is Shauna going with her to Rutgers a naive wish on the basis of their friendship, or is it also so Jackie can have someone to scout and feel out all the social conventions for her? College means that a new playbook needs to be made, and it saves embarassment if you can base it on someone else.

Jackie assuming that Shauna would go along to Rutgers to be her roommate can very well be an expression of "this is my best friend and my sole, kind, understanding constant in my life, and I need her there with me in this unknown territory." College means starting over from scratch, and if we assume the manual-based functioning to be true, then Shauna's presence there to take cues from could help a lot to smooth out this transition.

On the other hand, this is of course the opportunity to drop some masking that Jackie might've been doing. Shauna being there could then very well work against her

My greatest argument, I think, is that you can see the entirety of Jackie's lil subplot of going after Travis as an example of how such a process backfires tremendously against her.

A little step-by-step:

Jackie is shown to give Shauna multiple chances to come clean about the Jeff Thing. Shauna doesn't, but Jackie still sticks around her.

Jackie proposes the plan to have some fun with Travis to Shauna. Shauna voices her thoughts about it, underlining that it would be a bad thing to do to Natalie.

This notion is repeated throughout the episode. Travis himself brings it up, the high group of hunters brings it up, Nat herself looks not too pleased at Jackie and Travis slow-dancing at doomcoming.

There's an interesting reverse happening once the hunter girls confront Jackie about having had sex with Travis. Everyone is out of their minds, so idk how well we can factor in that almost all of them proceed to go after Travis despite mentioning once again that "he's Natalie's".

Doomcoming is post journal discovery, yet quite some time has passed between that and the episode. Jackie makes some very obvious comments at Shauna to signal that She Knows, and the Travis plan is set up after that. Hooking up with Travis can serve the plainly stated "I'm not gonna die a virgin :/", but over the course of the episode, it also creates this whole new catalogue of reactions from the others. And all of these, in their defence of Natalie, would speak in favor of Jackie if the news would break that Shauna had sex with Jeff.

So at the end of Doomcoming, we can get some sort of list of "rules" that would apply out here in the wilderness appendix for the section on CHEATING

People can call dibs on someone, and those are to be respected

Acting like the "bigger person" by calling everyone out on how little value it has out here is not going to do you any favors

The group will react badly if you crossed a line in their eyes. Taking someone's boyfriend falls under that.

It's how she plays the fight with Shauna! Shauna wants to bring up that most problems were caused by Jackie hooking up with Travis, which Jackie follows with an uno-reverse card she now (thinks) she has in her hands

If I (Jackie) hook up with Nat's boyfriend (Travis), then the group takes Natalie's side. Therefore, if Shauna hooked up with my boyfriend, then they should take my side.

And it goes so bad! Shauna outplays her by making the whole fight not about the cheating, but about their friendship as a whole, which Jackie has been viewing way differently and blinded than Shauna and the others. There's plenty of moments of Jackie "not reading the room" and either waving it off as the others being party-poopers or a lil mishap of her own.

Of course the big difference is that Jackie isn't really awkward in the highschool setting. She won homecoming queen for a reason, has many people looking up to her, and Coach Martinez probably made her captain for similar reasons. I guess what I'm going for with what's provided in Doomcoming is that Jackie lacks that "reading the room" skill (we can see it a number of times with Shauna in the pilot. In particular I'd say the Rutgers discussion, the boob dress, and telling Jeff to drop her off first) but makes up for it a lot by having a sort of manual of how to act in certain situations.

She's not seeing how Shauna might feel about her constant input on things. She's not seeing that others might orchestrate stuff outside of her knowledge. Nobody ever outright goes head-to-head with Jackie until the wilderness, and on good grounds there. If rescue isn't coming, we go to the body of water that's just been discovered. But the crash site is (ironically) safe. Whatever might happen if we leave it behind for something we're not even sure of?

It also doesn't look like Jackie has any (good) friends outside of Shauna. Might come with their years long codependence that nobody even wants to put themselves into, but also that with a captain position/being a generally popular high school student, she might not seem as approachable on a personal level. Jackie does make herself very open, and she's shown to be able to set up brief but very attentive conversations (Allie, Mari, Misty) but beyond that on a superficial level, there's not someone who she turns to when she suspects Shauna of something. Shauna's very obvious other friend is of course Taissa, but there's nobody out in the wilderness like that for Jackie.

and for some random bits:

Verbal stuff! The Beaches quote is peak, because who else would drop a line like that in such a moment. If Jackie's lying about not quoting it, then it does really speak of it being a hyper-focus movie (and we can also discuss why Shauna can recognize the movie from just the one line). But I think the possibility of it just being one of those phrases that you whip out like a vine quote, even if you've forgotten the origins of it

Presentation and maybe textures! Her luggage lacking skirts/dresses is… yeah. She wears a dress at the party in the woods and going to school with Shauna in the pilot episode, but besides the doomcoming dress, that's it. The article that says that while the others are already sharing clothes, Jackie sticks to her own wardrobe OR borrows some thing from Shauna (shoutout to the Doomcoming flannel!)

[sentientcave]

Hello hello! I’m interested in hearing more about your Rugby fic! What’s it about and who does it feature?

Hey there, howdy, hi!

Rugby is a Ghoap x 2ndPOV FTM OC/Reader (He's got a name and a nickname (Ripley/Ripper), but it's not clear if it's a first or last name). Astonishingly little actual rugby happens. It's mostly just silly boys being boys in love (Ghost and Soap are actively trying to date Ripper and he is like, hahaa they're such good friends).

Here's a lil snippet (There's also a few lil snips in the list of WIP Wednesdays listed at the bottom of my masterlist if you'd like to know more). This is mostly a texting bit that I don't think I've posted before.

You text Johnny and Simon as soon as Liv gets off you, opening the group chat that Johnny set up, which is mostly just Johnny sending you tiktok links and Simon sending pictures of dogs and cats that he sees.

Ripper: hey lads. Asking a big favour, but could you put me up for a week? Roomies got family coming and their accommodations fell through. No problem if you can't/don't want to, won't be pressed about it.

Soap: !!!!!!!!!!!

Soap: r u fukkin kiddin me rn Rip? Course ye can stay

Ghost: Only got one bed though.

Soap: Rip's just a wee feller we can squeeze him in

You laugh. As if you’re going to be choosy about the sleeping arrangements when they’re doing you a big favour.

Ripper: Lads, I will gladly sleep on the couch. Or the floor tbh. Bathtub even.

Ghost: Nah just kidding.

Ghost: We have a guest room.

Soap: we've got a playroom 2 if yed like to see it

Ghost: Johnny

Soap: Yeh LT?

Ghost: Shut up.

Soap: Get yer arse over here n make me

Ghost: In a minute. When do you need to come over?

"Hey, Liv, what day are they coming?"

"Wednesday, they'll be here in the evening."

Ripper: Wednesday. Could come home with you after practice.

Ghost: We'll pick you up so you don't have to lug your bag to the pitch. Be there 6:30.

Ripper: Thanks, lads. You're lifesavers.

Soap: nythin 4 u Rip.

Soap: n I mean ANYTHIN

Soap: jcudheiks

You figure that's Simon making good on his promise to make Johnny shut up.

[spinningchipfreak]

reason why i ship mugman and gabriel

So recently i've seen some hate about mugriel here on tumblr and honestly it made me so fucking sad. But ive decided to explain everything to y'all why i even ship this why i think this ship would be a very good one and how i see it in my head. I'm really bad at expressing my emotions so i think it will make everything clear for everyone. So when i've first read lil lucifer au my favourite character was gabe. I've studied every single post about him and i'm a very big fan of him i need to admit- then i just reached the end of casino cups and i was like: *GASP* ''OH MY GOD THEY WOULD MAKE SUCH A NICE PAIR :D'' i've found out that other people liked it too and i fell in love with this ship. But you guys know- since i knew gabriel from lil lucifer au his lil lucifer au silly personality was stuck in my head and i just kept his new ''snarky and smirky'' personality away. I know that the way i think isnt literally accurate with the canon version but if people make casino cups AUS with their own ocs why cant i have my own version of gabriel and mugs relationship in my head? (this sounds so dumb im sorry but i have no idea how to explain it) I've even wanted to make an askblog about them but It's very hard at school and i bearly have time to draw anything. Some people say that this ship literally doesnt feel right bc its ''mortal x immortal'' *cough cough* devildice? dice also was mugs' age once y'all. Immortal x mortal ships aren't bad as long as they both are adults. I wanted to show people in the fandom that this ship isnt that bad. I dont need to persuade them to ship it. I just want everyone to be respectful towards eachother. I'm not here to spread hate i just wanted to let you guys know how it looks like in my head. I'm very attached to them i love these two and nothing and no one will ever stop me from shipping and loving them. (IM SORRY THAT THERES SO MUCH OF THIS TEXT HERE I DIDNT EXPECT TO WRITE THAT MUCH AJSHDBS ALSO SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES) OH AND TO MUGRIEL HATERS I WILL KEEP DOING WHAT I LOVE YALL AINT STOPPING ME ✨

[kevinsdsy]

i LOVEEEE your socmed aus they keep me going i NEEDD to see jeremy beefing with shawn over jean and/or a confession (whether directly to jean or to cat/laila/whoever about his Jean Feelings)

i hear you loud and clear 🫡 honestly when i started doing these i just thought i’d do a few silly lil parts with some texts and tweets and that’s it.

not indulging too much in the characteristics of other teammates. no sudden established relationships (except for tony & nabil). no extra headcanons. no shawn anderson. no plot, basically. nothing that could truly be proven incorrect when tsc2 would come out.

but then i got carried away and we’re like 25 parts further down the line and suddenly we’re talking about doing a summer olympics era of the socmed au too LIKE ‼️

so the upcoming weeks i’m going to try and indulge in jerejean more :)) and then because summer olympics au is still set in france who knows what’ll happen then 👀

[dogcodedcatboy]

HIIIIIII CRICKET HI HI 🧊 🍋‍🟩 and 🪻 for the asks :3c

<3 @heart-shaped-reagent-vial

NAT!!!! thank you for sending an ask!!! 🖤🐈‍⬛ hope ur doing well!!!!

🧊 - how would your f/o text you? would they use proper punctuation/capitalization, or type more informally?

OK SO the one canon text message roman sends in the show is 'I am going to kill myself' which is really fucking funny also the only thing i can base this response off of. i feel like the proper capitalization is only becuz the default autocorrect setting is to capitalize i's. same would go for spelling and punctuation. roman likes emojis more than emoticons. (picks up ironic usage of 'owo' from aaron and really only uses it when he's trying to be annoying)

using this as a dumping ground for my texting headcanons but. he texts aaron a lot of random thoughts/quips during the day (but ultimately would perfer to call if he can, especially when he's away for business trips, the type to want to call and catch every night that they're apart once they're settled in to their relationship).

🍋‍🟩 - similarly, what would your contact names be for each other?

aaron definitely has roman in as something stupid like 'roman royalty 👑' or '💙boy toy roman roy💙'. he's not one to have serious / accurate contact names. for some period of their pre-relationship fwb hookup thing, he's in aarons phone as 'trustfund failson who cursed my dick'

roman is so paranoid about having a Secret Boyfriend at first that even in his personal phone aaron is saved just by his initials (A.L) until he can think of something funny. aaron is in roman's phone for a decent amount of time as 'Champagne Socialist 🍾' (equally anonymous but at least a bit witty/a dig at aaron). eventually once the dust clears he's able to have aaron in as 'Aaron ❤️'. nothing too fancy.

🪻 - what's your f/o's coffee or drink order?

cortado with almond milk is his canon coffee order (1:1 ratio steamed milk + espresso, lil bit of foam at the top)! i think he could over time be persuaded to try more exciting things. i think its silly that he also canonically likes green juice/smoothies. i like to think he'd enjoy matcha too :3

[that-darn-clown]

y'know. thought about Help Wanted (OG) in the Rewrite. and boy is the concept of how it would be presented terrifying.

imagine Help Wanted, but instead of being presented as a VR game...it's advertised as a collection of smaller games. like games intended for kids, but that's not to say that some adults looking for a trip down memory lane can't enjoy them, too (so think how Pizzeria Sim was presented to us IRL, kinda). we are told that these games are meant to "bridge the gap between the old Freddy's brand and the new reboot" that the current CEOs are currently doing.

but upon booting up the game, it's made clear that...we aren't the ones "playing" these games, technically. we're playing through someone else's perspective.

as the game starts, we see what seems to be the "starting up" screen of an old computer, and when it finally loads in, the player is shown three separate accounts: one for someone named "Summer" with a sunflower for their profile picture, another for someone named "Vanny W." with what seems to be someone's rabbit fursona, and a third just for someone named "Bill" with just a blurry brown car as the picture.

trying to click the latter two profiles will just lead to text saying "You don't know the password." meaning that, as we click Summer's profile, we are likely playing as her.

as we get onto her desktop, we are told to open up a few games for her to check out. one is a Freddy game where you have to help him set up parties for kids, and then bring the children cake, but you have to follow prompts, use requested prompts, bake and decorate cakes correctly, etc. the game has levels, progressively getting more difficult as you go along. the next game is a Bonnie rhythm game. similar to the last one, it has levels that get harder as you go.

but the third is where it gets...weird.

the third is an O'Hare tamagotchi-type game. not exactly, but that's basically what it is. basically, he'll tell you what he wants or needs, even having bars for you to prioritize things, but he is rather...fussy. even if you're making sure he's fed and not starving, if he demands bath or playtime, then may God help you, because he won't shut up. he'll also occasionally crawl out of the game and explore your desktop; crawling into files and pulling out pictures, demanding to watch videos, messing with the mouse cursor, you name it. He's Meant To Be An Annoying, But Simply Mischievous And Silly Lil Shit (yes, this was probably Michael being salty towards his father. understandably).

but once the player enters the game...what little 8-bit music was playing suddenly goes quiet for several seconds until the virtual hare "speaks." O'Hare welcomes the player to his lil game, and things go from there. Summer seems to deal with things rather well for the rest of this "session" of the game; she fucks around with our little virtual buddy, he wanders around her desktop as the player checks around as well, but...he acts a little odd. he pulls out pictures of Summer and Vanny together, but the odd part is that he refers to them both by name. "Oh, is this you and Vanessa? What a lovely photo of you both!" he also always seems to be looking directly at the player, rarely looking away for even a second.

and then Summer logs out, the screen fades to black...

and we're suddenly back at the log-in screen, asked to select an account again.

this time, the only account we can choose is Bill's.

we discover that, somehow, the game pack has been installed to Bill's account, too. looking at the time and date, we discover that this is all occurring just a few hours after our time with Summer.

Bill seems to be curious about the games, because we're also asked to play some games as him. this time, ones relating to Chica (who has a cooking game, and which Bill does not seem to be too concerned about playing carefully considering that no matter how gently the player does anything in-game, Chica will always comment on the player "needing to be more careful/do things slower") and Fredbear (who doesn't have a game, necessarily, but has story time where he'll read through "storybooks" with the player). like Summer, he also plays around with O'Hare a bit, but he seems...more fussy, somehow. harder to please, more troublesome, for some reason. oh well, maybe this guy just has bad luck...

but then O'Hare starts rummaging through his files and pulls out a picture. a picture of what seems to be Bill, but younger, standing next to a teenage boy. O'Hare makes no comment on the picture but seems to stare at it for a bit before going back into Bill's files. he pops out again while the player is busy with another game (the Freddy one, of which Bill is, yet again, not doing gently from what we can gather), now holding what seems to be a picture of an old newspaper article. he then says something that, in just a few moments, is going to become very ominous:

"Hmm....This looks familiar..."

but when the player clicks on the image, the image we get is...a disturbing one.

it's a newspaper article. from 1987. detailing the discovery of five bodies in the New and Improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. all of them basically children; three teens and two small children.

a picture is circled, and a name underlined: Terrance Warren.

and as the player does some more digging through the files, it becomes clear why that name and that picture seems important. the picture O'Hare had pulled out earlier? it was titled in the files as "meandterry" ("Me and Terry").

through context clues, we learn something: Bill, the guy we're playing as, was the brother of one of the '87 victims. maybe that's why he seems curious about these games; he's got some history with this brand. a dark one.

while digging, we discover something else: an audio file in a somewhat hidden/inconspicuously named folder. it's a recording from Summer...how it got onto Bill's account is a mystery, though.

listening to it, we hear her talk about Vanessa, and her concerning behavior: apparently, she and Summer lived together as "roommates" (they are dating), and Vanessa had a rough childhood. Vanny's dad moved in with them, it's causing some tension, and she's gaming as a way to keep herself calm.

...except now she's getting obsessed with these "Fazbear games," and seems to be spending hours both on the internet and playing the games.

apparently, Summer's trying to investigate if something's up, or if Vanny's just gotten herself a mildly unhealthy coping mechanism (or both).

so that's how the rest of the game goes. you alternate between Summer and Bill as they try to get to the bottom of this. but, starting Day 2, you now have a new problem:

That's Right! Fucking Malhare! turns out O'Hare wasn't just acting odd for no reason: Afton's here, but...kinda not (a part of him is).

the way he interacts with the two protagonists is also wildly different:

with Summer, it's clear that he's mostly just toying with this poor girl (which, as we learn through the audio recordings, genuinely freaks her out and scares her) and being an annoyance. he'll mess with the cursor and demand attention while the player is busy with other things (and sometimes messing with the cursor during games where precision is the difference between winning and losing).

with Bill, he's more actively hostile, constantly making references to what Bill had done to Vanessa (which, mixed with Summer's audio recordings, let us know that Bill...ain't exactly the greatest dad. or person in general), all while saying he'd be a better father to Vanny (he really wouldn't), and just generally causing him problems on purpose. while both sessions are practically mental/psychological torture for the protagonists, Summer's section is more an annoyance to the player, while Bill's is more explicitly meant to be terrifying. he'll actively fuck up games and will just coldly state to "Try Again." over and over, while the player has to deal with him taunting the player. at one point, he straight up tells Bill "Oh come on now, your brother was trying harder than you are right now when I murdered him, and I caught him off guard."

with Summer, we learn more about what Malhare is and what he's capable of doing (not a lot, surprisingly). with Bill, we learn who Malhare is (a piece/2% of Afton's soul that's now a rogue AI) and what he did. but we never play from Vanny's perspective.

we do hear about her from Summer's audio recordings though. and it doesn't sound like she's doing too well. her behavior is getting...concerning.

and then we get to Day Six. where we don't open up to log-in screen just yet. we see a torn off slip of paper, with some drops of blood on it. it's a note from Vanny, telling Summer that she has to leave and she's sorry. but she apparently left the password to her computer account where Summer can find it.

and so we log onto her account. and we find concerning things in the files: notes on how to commit murder, notes where she seems to be talking to an "unknown entity," other notes where she seems to be rambling incoherently. and a video that seems to have been taken from the webcam.

of Vanny murdering her father, in her fursuit, before the screen glitches out and the video ends.

as we try to open up Malhare's tamagotchi game, there is an error, saying that the game could not be opened. no matter how hard the player tries, the game won't open. the lil guy is nowhere to be found, either

we watch as Summer leaves a final audio recording. distraught, distressed, she claims to have no idea what's happening. she doesn't really know what to do, but she knows one thing she needs to do now:

"I-I need to find Vanessa."

and the game ends.

(there's more, but it's real late and i wanna go to bed. here's my thoughts, though! :D)

It's like if purble place wanted you dead!!!! Meaning I love it!!!!!

[fruit-sy]

Siblings with a Mountain Man/俺哥来自深山 drawings!

Fan art I did of this manhua I've been reading for the last couple of weeks! This manhua has been living rent free in my mind and I cannot stop thinking about these silly goofy lil characters <33

It's a comedy-centric manhua, but it has its serious moments and times where its sincerity really punches me in the gut <:)

I loove the dynamic between the main siblings, Li Mo and Dao Mo.

Dao Mo is a relatively impassive person and gives off a cool-looking vibe at first glance, but that impression shatters as shenanigans happen, with him adapting to urban life after having lived in the mountains for 10 years and embarrassing Li Mo along the way. And as comedy comics are, he tends to dispel moments that are too serious with humor (also maybe as a defense mechanism when he feels genuinely moved by something)

Li Mo is a springy girl whose normal life crumbled as soon "that guy" came into her life. She does a lot of things with earnestness and vigor. She contrasts her brother a lot, very obviously pointing towards the yin and yang principle, and they make for a very entertaining duo. Though, as much as they goof around with slapstick humor, Li Mo really underestimates just how much Dao Mo cares about her.

Dao Mo repeatedly puts himself in harm's way to protect Li Mo and does a lot to give her a normal life, like damn, the boy tries so hard and fails when she starts seeing spirits. Li Mo began to acknowledge him as her brother slowly, and she starts fighting back the danger surrounding her as the series progresses. At the climax, she makes a major decision that changed everything, all with the single thought of "I want to be like him, I want to FIGHT." and BOI, the feeling I FELT WHEN I READ THAT CHAPTER WAS CATHARTIC

It might be simple, but god damn I love it when series build a mutual respect for both sides of the party, when they both acknowledge that they would do anything to protect the other from danger AND I LOVE THAT AUGH

They made it clear that Li Mo can stand on almost equal ground to her brother, she can defend herself physically, but when it comes to spirits, she can't dispose of them easily like Dao Mo can with his taoism skills. Also sidenote I love how badass all the women are in this story, like (points at dorks) DAMN THEYRE SO COOL I WANNA BE LIKE THEM

LATER DOWN THE LINE, WE GET A BIT MORE BACKSTORY AND THAT MADE MY HEART HURT WITH HOW EARNEST IT WAS ;O; Seeing the ending of that arc filled me with a sense of completion, we see just how much the characters' relationship has developed compared to the start.

Though, as much as I enjoyed this manhua and have reread it at least 3 times in the last two weeks, I do have some things that dragged me down while reading it. I think I got "combat-fatigued" from all the fight scenes in the story. Like, maybe because it was my first time reading it and I just really wanted the plot to happen faster bc I wanted to know what happened next and I binged it in a day, but I just skimmed through it quickly and was quite bummed when a lot of the chapter numbers (nearly half iirc) was focused on the combat, and the big baddies getting bigger and bigger-

Next was the typos in the translation. I could ignore some of them bc my brain just, autocorrects the dialogue ig, but sometimes it kills my immersion in the story.

But still, all that aside I really enjoyed reading this manhua! And so I gave it my appreciation in the only way, besides screaming into some text, I know... Which is fanart!!

[yakuzacanons]

Hiii I'd like to request some hc of s/o being tanimura's co-worker on the same department but they are also dating (how that would affect work/the way he acts there/ if he hides it and tries to keep it professional or if he's very open about it/ bonus points if they share a couple kisses between missions 👀)

Thank youuu 🫶🫶

Tanimura more like tiney babey am I right, hehe. Anyways, of course, I love writing for my silly lil Tanimura, he deserves so much. Headcanons below da cut, thanks for your patience and have a good one sweet anon!

It's actually not super surprising to Tanimura that he ended up in a relationship with a coworker as most of his day IS occupied by his job. He doesn't really get a lot of downtime to go out and casually date, plus whatever downtime he has is usually spent resting up, so for him it works out great.

Tanimura would try to keep it professional and under wraps at first, but not because he's ashamed of the relationship. It's just because he knows the higher ups already think he's kind of a slacker and/or loose canon in some ways so he's just treading carefully for the sake of the both of you.

Once Tanimura gets the sense that he's in the clear and being completely open about it won't be detrimental to your career or his, it'll just be out in the open. He won't care who knows it. In fact he's a little proud if everyone knows it because he thinks you're just the best!

A relationship with a coworker will actually probably make Tanimura MORE inclined to work diligently, like showing up on time and completeing missions faster just so he can see you at the headquarters. Others might laugh a little and say "Ah look who's working so hard now that he's in love" but Tanimura pays them no mind. After all, it is kind of true. What can he say, happy Tanimura means a hard working Tanimura too.

The biggest affect workwise is the two of you will almost never get missions where you guys work together. It's not because they want to keep you separated but more so a liability. If shit hits the fan, they don't want to have a relationship on the line on top of everything else. This means the two of you mostly see each other at the office but during missions, you will be in separate places.

That doesn't stop Tanimura from texting you secretly while he's working though. Nothing too crazy as he doesn't want you to get in trouble but the occassional silly emoji or some random selfie. Also the type of guy to send a text saying something like "I saw these two crows in a tree at Children's Park, aren't they cute? That's us!"

Not one for PDA in the office but will totally steal a kiss real quick when no one is looking. The whole so-close-yet-so-far tension of being at work actually really excites him. If there's ever an office-wide meeting, he'll totally stand in the back and quietly hold your hand. Little cute and quiet things like that.

He won't admit it but if he ever hears your voice over the police scanner announcing that something is going on, he'll actually respond out loud to himself by saying something like "On it, sweetie" or "Duty calls, darling". He will NEVER actually admit to it though, even if other coworkers have caught him doing it.

[raitrolling]

Gone

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

It did not take Glasya long to put the pieces together. 

Gaia had been alerted to a sudden increase in eldritch activity in the city of Atlantis, which the Investigations team was monitoring. It appeared to have been a short burst of energy as a result of an eldritch scream, but apart from the residual influence lingering around the city being worth keeping an eye on, it was not deemed an immediate threat. They could send a team out to investigate in-person should the levels of eldritch activity increase, but based on their initial assessment it was clear that at this stage it would be a waste of resources.

At the same time, Thrixe had not answered any of Glasya’s text messages they had sent over the past 24 hours. They didn’t care when they sent the initial message, a silly meme they’d found before they heard about the recent situation in Atlantis. But when they messaged him again after hearing the news and he still had yet to respond, they knew their suspicions were confirmed.

And when he still didn’t respond to their later threat to forever revoke his free candy privileges if he didn’t reply to them, they knew it was serious. 

Glasya knew there wasn’t much they could do but keep an ear out for any whisperings of investigations or changes in activity in Atlantis. Even though it was known that Thrixe was their friend, they would not be allowed to tag along for any investigation. For starters, they were not officially employed for fieldwork, and could not go out unless the matter was deemed safe and they were accompanied by a senior member of the Investigations team. But also, given the high potential that the eldritch influence could trigger their possession trauma, their moirail and boss Mikail would not allow them to get exposed. 

It sucked, but they knew that no amount of pouting and trying to bribe him would change his mind. They may be dating, but they were still both required to act professionally on the job.

However, they did know someone else they could ask…

After messaging one of the members of the Special Operations team to confirm if a certain other troll was onsite tonight, they slipped out of their office, informed Astera that they’ll be back shortly if anyone needs them, and headed upstairs to the other department’s wing. 

It was easy to find who they were looking for, all they needed to do was follow the chill in the air. He was sitting in one of the common areas, reading through what appeared to be a briefing for an upcoming meeting. 

“Hey,” - There was a pause, as if Glasya had to stop themself from using one of the nicknames they call him behind his back. - “Mikiel. You heard the latest news?”

Mikiel looked up from his papers, eyes instinctively narrowing in suspicion. Glasya never approached him for any good reason.

“What news.”

“Oh, you know, just a certain starfish prooobably doing some sort of fucky-wucky up in Atlantis that has gotten him back on our radar, and he hasn’t responded to any of my texts. You heard anything?” Glasya’s tone was as casual as always, and Mikiel didn’t care to try and gauge how genuine their flippancy was.

“I haven’t, but…” The blueblood paused, properly considering their words. He had messaged Thrixe last night, but he wasn’t the type to follow up an unanswered text. His moirail was a grown adult who can look after himself, and if he takes a couple nights to respond, that usually means he was simply too busy. 

But everything else made that sound suspicious, and while Mikiel’s expression didn’t change the drop in temperature around the two trolls made it clear he was perturbed.

Glasya didn’t need to wait for any other response.

“Yeah, didn’t think so. I know you guys are tight, but no way he’d ignore lil ol’ me while still chatting to you,” they shrug. “Anyway, you think you’d be able to do a cheeky lil investigation? Make sure your own moirail hasn’t finally returned to his ancestral calling as a haunted sea sponge and become one with a coral reef?”

Mikiel rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what his ancestor was. But, fine. I’ll go.” 

Glasya grinned. If it was anyone else, they knew the answer would be a definite no. But, somehow, under those hundreds of layers of ice and pretentiousness, Thrixe had managed to get Mikiel to care for him after all.

“Pog. If you need an outie of whatever mission your guys were gonna send you on, say something important from Investigations has popped up. I’ll vouch for you.”   

Mikiel doubted such a plan would work, but he didn’t care if Glasya got in trouble for it. That’s their problem.

And even if he wasn’t allowed to leave for Atlantis, no one was going to stop him. Not if it was true that Thrixe was in trouble. 

-----------------

Mikiel shivered as he entered the city of Atlantis, making a beeline for Thrixe’s hive and trying his best to ignore everything else. The eldritch presence in the air was palpable to someone like him, given his sensitivity to the supernatural, but apart from the inherent wrongness of it all, it didn’t appear particularly dangerous. 

The amount of trolls wandering about thinned out considerably the closer he got to his destination, which he anticipated. He had chosen to investigate off the clock so he did not need to seek the approval of his boss, but as a member of Gaia it was still his responsibility to ensure the safety of the general populace from supernatural threats. Fortunately, the eldritch presence was doing its job keeping everyone else away, whether they realised it or not.

Mikiel could also feel the desire to turn away and abandon the investigation lingering within his mind, but he ignored it and kept going. 

As he approached the hive, he was stopped in his tracks. The front door was open, a sign that someone else had been here… Or still was inside. He bristled, on high alert, relying on The Patron’s gift to try and sense any other supernatural entities amongst the horrorterror’s lingering aura. The temperature around him was rapidly cooling, and frost creeping up the windows of the hive would alert anyone inside to his presence, but he was ready to fight if necessary.

The interior of the hive was wrecked. Mikiel did not visit Thrixe’s hive often as the hybrid preferred to visit the blueblood’s own, but he knew his moirail would not willingly leave the place in such a state. Furniture had been overturned, paintings fallen off the wall, lightbulbs shattered, and black blobs of something melted into the carpet. Ink, presumably, or some sort of sludge? He didn’t think it was necessary to understand exactly what it was, but he knew enough about terrors to know what kinds of liquids to expect. 

He crept through each room, looking for any signs of life. Nothing, no intruders like he had feared from the open door, and still no signs of the seadweller. Just a trail of the black substance, and-

Mikiel’s head suddenly turned at the sound of some animalistic noise, as his psiionics reacted in kind, freezing the floor directly underneath his feet.

Oh, it’s just Archimedes. The gryphon had left its  hiding spot and approached Mikiel, recognising him as a troll it could trust. Mikiel could not understand the animal’s body language, but he would not be surprised if it was distressed by the disappearance of its owner. He relaxed slightly, and crouched down to examine the creature. It didn’t appear like it’d been harmed, and it simply stared curiously back at him.

He nodded in acknowledgement, then stood back up, motioning for the animal to not try and follow him. If he can’t find Thrixe, he’ll need to take Archimedes back with him to make sure it gets looked after. Glasya would likely know what to do. 

He cast his attention back to the black fluid on the floor, and cautiously followed its trail. The lingering eldritch influence was starting to make his head hurt, but this appeared to be his only lead into locating his moirail. The trail took him to another door, which had been completely shattered, like something massive had forced its way through it… Or out of it.

Gazing into the open entrance of the broken door, he noticed where the trail of muck had ended. The seafront hives in Atlantis were built to be half-submerged for the seadwelling occupants, and many contained passageways and chambers that lead directly into the depths.

Mikiel grit his teeth, and turned to run out of the hive and towards the shoreline. Without thinking, he kept running, allowing his psiionics to freeze the water directly underneath him so he could take off over the ocean. He gripped his gloves in his teeth and tore them off, allowing for his cryokinesis to operate uninhibited, spreading the ice further across the waves and freezing a thick platform he could safely cross. He had learned he was able to trust in his abilities now, and that he could put his full faith that pursuing this hunch would not lead him astray. 

He did not stop until he was far from the shore, past the sandbar that only trained swimmers and those with gills would dare to cross. He knew he would not see any signs of the horrorterror hybrid from the surface, but - and he felt stupid for hoping this, but god was he desperate, despising the way his own fears burned in his chest and lead him to run into the maelstrom of eldritch activity - perhaps, he could-

“Thrixe!!!” 

He screamed his morail’s name out at the ocean, as loud and as shrill as his lungs were capable of. The chill in the air felt piercing, and he was clenching his fists so hard they were freezing over. He took in another deep breath.

“I know you’re out there somewhere, I can feel your damn presence all over the place! You- You- Coglione! Cretino! If you’ve done something stupid, get back here and tell me! Don’t just fuck off and leave everyone worried! Tu rompiscatole!” 

The words came out far angrier than he had intended, but… Seeing the state of Thrixe’s hive, the black sludge that slathered the floor, the wrecked furniture and doors that reeked of a desperate escape, and then knowing that whatever he had done had triggered Gaia to start monitoring again without knowing if this was even his moirail’s fault, he was terrified. 

“You- Answer me, goddammit!!” He screamed until his throat felt raw, and clusters of ice spikes had sprung up around him as his psiionics reflected his own rage. The ice around his fists shattered, but kept threatening to freeze over once again. He could no longer see through his glasses, having also frozen over until the lenses shattered.

But that did not matter, as there was only silence.

Silence, and the increasing feeling of absolute dread caused by the eldritch influence swarming around him. 

As Mikiel stood there, it became clear to him that Thrixe was no longer within the confines of Atlantis’ ocean, and was not in control of what lingered around the bay. If he was still in control, it’s deterring aura would have likely been much stronger to the point where the blueblood would’ve found himself unable to even get close to the hive. Thrixe would not have want his moirail to worry so much, or to get injured and fall under his thrall.

If Thrixe was still in control, it wouldn’t feel so hateful. 

The cryokinetic shivered, not from his own psiionics but from the sudden awareness that he was absolutely powerless. His moirail had vanished into the depths, and there was nothing left of him remaining in this area, nor any other ways that he could be pursued. All that was left was something that felt actively malicious towards Mikiel the longer he stayed here, feelings of hatred and resentment prickling under his skin. 

Like a man possessed, he finally followed his instincts, and fled back to shore. 

[perpetual-canon]

Perpetual Canon

summary: This is as grand as it gets - Ace landed the gig with Gorillaz, and it's a chance of a lifetime for him. It is as clear as day - Murdoc landed himself in prison, and it's a chance for everyone to move on.

There's nothing more to it. Right?

Or: How to make sense of life when all its stories are sung at the same time?

Or all of them were part of the same song all along?

about the story: This is an AU where most of the Gorillaz insane lore is alt-reality storyline they come up for the fans & publicity stunts. The reality behind the lore is somewhat similar but not always as epic.

The timeline is a bit more sensible - in 2017-2019 (phase 5) when the story is taking place, it's been about 13 years since D day.

The story is full of creepy supernatural lore and fae laws and, no joke, is nearly 50% flashbacks.

Expect the feels, the funny, and the drama.

Ace has his ice powers, but with a twist. Same for some other characters.

Aaand, big spoilers, this is an AU where Ace is Murdocs son! But no one knows about it yet :D

This silly little idea is one of the main reasons the story exists, and so we share it in advance because we can.

Ages at the start of chapter 1: Stuart - 32,5 Russell - 31 Murdoc - 38 Noodle - almost 23 Ace - almost 22 Snake - 21,5 Big Billy - 19 Grubber - 20 Lil Arturo - almost 16

Damon Albarn & Jamie Hewlett - 40

pairings: 2doc, 2ace (one-sided), (past) Russell/Dell. This is not as dramatic as it sounds, promise :'D

pairings (that are slow burn and SPOILERS): Snake/Ace, Russell/Ace, Russell/Snake, Snake/Russell/Ace. This is the hill we built and are going to burn on, you guys are welcome to join :'DD

warnings: There will be warnings for each chapter/parts of chapters, when needed.

generally there may be: drug abuse, mentions/discussions of child abuse, discussions of trauma, suicidal ideation, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

about the format: There will be comics, short stories, text with illustrations, shitposts, basically anything that'll work for each piece. Updates will not be regular after chapter 1, but we are very much set to finish this project!

tags guide: PC!story - for the story bits PC!art - for the additional art PC!not in text but in spirit - for shitposts and inspo stuff PC!spoilers - idk, may need this one

—

You may recognise the comics from couple years back, and yeah, this is doublebassstory (now with a proper name! that is also a pun, yes :'D).

The hiatus and real life got us, but the story didn't let go, it's too fun, and totally doesn't hold us at gunpoint (: So we're back at it, and the goal is to get this whole thing out, and have some fun along the way (':

Most of the story is already planned out - plot, chapters, episodes and all (g-d help us).

The links to read Perpetual Canon, and the chapter plans can all be found HERE.

Feel free to hit us with any questions you may have.