#watch me post these well into the end of March lol

[c0mmunicationbreakdown]

Februyuri (where i yurify a yaoi pairing for every day of February) (and part of March I guess)

Day 9: Hannigram

waiter! Waiter! More toxic yuri please!

[mxltifxnd0m]

true blue

summary: it's raining and you're fed up with sam and his attitude

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

words: 1.6K

warnings: no mentions of y/n, angst, fluff, kissing, some strong language, not beta'd, first time writing for sam, title inspo is the song BLUE by billie eilish

a/n: i was inspired to write this from the picture above and by bestie mari @prentissluvr (fellow sam lover) who posted about wet hair sam and it spiraled into this LOL. also new layout/formatting is inspired by mari as well 🤭.

and yes I'm finally writing for supernatural after watching the show since October lol

also please reblog and lmk your thoughts and opinions!! i wanna hear what you guys think 😁

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦�� 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The door to the motel room shut with a loud 'bang' as you marched away from the room. You heard the door open and Sam calling out for you. Your pace quickened as you weaved through the motel parking lot, trying to get to your car before Sam could reach you.

You fiddled with the keys to your car, your hands shaking from the lingering anger you were feeling from the argument you had with Sam in the room. Sam was sidelining you as of late, and you were getting fed up with it. This hunt, which was taking out a nest of vampires, was the last straw. You had a close call with the bloodsucker, but Dean managed to kill it before you were bitten. You all came out with some bumps and bruises, but nothing too severe.

When you guys came back to the motel, Sam was being short and distant from you, and it was irritating you to no end. Dean was out at a nearby bar for the night when you confronted Sam about his pissy attitude towards you. It had spiraled into a heated argument, and Sam's stubbornness and constant deflections from the truth were the last straw. You promptly left the motel room, fuming.

You stuck your key into the car door and began to open it before it was abruptly slammed shut. You saw Sam's hand on the window of your car, and you looked to your left to see the hardened face of the tall Winchester staring down at you.  

"I wasn't done talking to you." Sam said, his voice barely concealing his irritation.

"Too bad, I was." You snarked before opening your car door again before it was shut again by Sam.

Thunder echoed throughout the surrounding area, but you paid no mind to it. You were too busy glaring daggers at Sam while he glared right back at you with his hazel eyes. Even in the shitty blue neon lighting coming from the motel's sign at the entrance of the parking lot, you could see that Sam's eyes were stormy, looking more grey than the kaleidoscope of colors you were used to seeing.

You hated how pretty he looked with the blue light illuminating his face.

Your glare was unwavering as you turned to face him completely, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to keep your emotions in check since they seemed to go completely haywire when you were around Sam.

"Are you going to say something or can I leave?" You ask, your tone sharp.

"Depends, are you going to run away again?" Sam shoots back, making your left eye twitch in anger.

Tiny raindrops began to fall from the sky.

You scoffed at Sam. "I thought it was clear that I was leaving." You jangled your keys obnoxiously in front of his face.

Sam's lips pulled into a thin line before he snatched them out of your hand and shoved them into his pocket.

"What the hell Sam!"

"You're not leaving until I finish with what I have to say."

"Do I have to? Because you made the message pretty clear to me." You huffed. "Give me my keys back." You held out your hand, your palm facing up in front of Sam.

Sam shook his head, a strand of hair falling into his face before he pushed it back. Your eyes followed his movement before you flinched, feeling some rain falling on your face. The tiny raindrops started becoming larger and falling faster. You could feel your hair and clothes dampening as it began to rain harder.

Sam glanced back at the motel. "Let's go back inside and out of the rain."

You shook your head. "No, I want to leave Sam. I'm done."

You could see confusion fill Sam's eyes as his eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

You threw your head back in frustration, letting out a low groan. "With you Sam and your piss poor attitude that I've been dealing with since we started this hunt."

At this point, the rain began to come down faster, and the pavement of the parking lot was slick with water. The both of you were soaked at this point, your clothes clinging to your body as water dripped down your face. You didn't care that you were getting wet; all you wanted was answers from Sam.  

Sam's jaw clenched as he looked down at his shoes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you kidding me right now?" You scoffed while shaking your head. "You are being ridiculous. You know precisely what I'm talking about because you're doing it to me right now. Being clueless with me isn't very cute Winchester." His last name came out clipped from your mouth.

Sam huffed a breath before standing up straighter, meeting your gaze. "Okay, you want to know why I'm acting this way? It's because you were being reckless today and you could have gotten yourself killed."

Your face scrunched up at his words. "I was not being reckless. Besides, we handled the nest, and no one was gravely injured."

"That's not the point." Sam sighed frustratedly while running a hand through his wet hair.  

"Okay, it's clear that I'm not getting the point, so please spell it out for me.

"You could have gotten hurt or worse."

You still didn't understand Sam. "I know that. It's an occupational hazard in our line of work. I don't see the big deal here."

Sam groaned, wiping his wet face, and took a step closer to you. "You are seriously not getting it."

"Yeah, clearly! Are you going to tell me why it was such a big deal or are you going to keep skirting around the real reason." You looked at Sam expectantly, fed up with the vagueness of his words.

Sam pursed his lips before looking away from you. "I can't." He muttered.

Your left eye twitched again. "You've got to be kidding me," You murmured to yourself.

"Can't or won't?" You asked, raising your voice for Sam to hear, trying to meet his gaze, but he refused to look at you.

The silence from Sam spoke volumes. You nodded your head and clicked your tongue. You took a step back from Sam and turned around. You started to walk away from him.

"Where are you going?" You heard him call out, his tone almost panicked.

"Preferably somewhere far away from you." You yell back, keeping your gaze in front of you as you try to shove your hands into your jackets, but the fabric is soaked so that it is uncomfortable even to try and stick them in.

You heard Sam huff and rapid footsteps coming from behind you until Sam's tall frame entered your field of vision and stopped in front of you.

"You're acting like a child." Sam said through gritted teeth.

"Takes one to know one." You shot back.

You knew you were acting like a brat, but Sam Winchester brought that side out of you when the two of you would get into your spats, which was very rare.

Sam took a deep breath and met your eyes. "Look, can we get back into the room, and I'll explain everything."

"No."

"No? What do you mean 'no?'" He asked, annoyance coating his words.

"I mean, no. I know once we get back into the room, you're going to force me to shower and get changed. Then you're going to take your turn to shower, and by the time we can actually talk, Dean will be back, or you'll keep running circles around my questions, and-"

"I love you." Sam interjected loudly, interrupting your rant and making you falter.

Your eyes flickered rapidly across his face as you felt your heart thud against your chest loudly.

"What?" You whispered.

Sam heaved a big sigh and stepped closer to you, your chests brushing against one another.

"Seeing that vamp hovering over you today-" Sam swallowed thickly. "It scared me."

"I thought I was going to lose you, and I couldn't let that happen. I didn't want to lose one of the only people that understand me and can put up with mine and Dean's BS." Sam chuckled weakly.

"But realizing that I could lose you because you're close to me is something I can't afford. That's why I've been acting like an ass. I'd rather you be safe and hate me than dead."

You looked deep into Sam's eyes; they were lined with unshed tears, and you slowly brought up your hands to cup his wet face. Sam's eyes shut slowly as he leaned into your hands.

"You're an idiot." You murmured to him, making his eyes snap open and filled with shock and confusion.

You sent him a small smile. "Do you think I'm not terrified anytime you get hurt or almost die on a hunt? But the difference is I'm not an ass to you when you are." You joked lightly, making the corners of Sam's lips quirk up slightly.

You lean closer to Sam, resting your forehead against his. "I love you too." You admit.

Sam let out a shakey breath, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours harder. "Say it again."

You smirked. "I love you, Sam, even when you're a stubborn idiot and trust me it's all of-"

Sam shut you up by placing his warm lips against yours. You chuckled against his lips before melting into the kiss. Sam's hands made their way to your hips and pulled you into his broad frame as you kept kissing, pouring all of the unsaid emotions into it.

A warmth settled in your chest as the kiss grew more passionate, and one of your hands made its way to the nape of Sam's neck. You accidentally tugged at the wet hair, making him groan into the kiss. You smirked into the kiss at the sound, and he pulled away once you did it again, pulling his hair a little firmer.

"You're trouble." Sam murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

A cheeky grin grew on your face. "You love it." You murmured back.

"Yeah, I do." Sam said in a soft voice.

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER

pt. ✌🏻

liked by fan23, user12, and 1923 others

cturnerupdates Cal & Y/N spotted at a cafe in Paris today - March 23, 2024

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fan12 I SHIP IT BUT IM JEALOUS

y/nfan two lovers in the city of love 🥹 fitting ♥️

user23 I’m calling it now these two are gonna be it for each other. They’re end game.

yourinstagram that’s the goal🥹

liked by yourinstagram, austinbutler and 15,713 others

keoghan92 Context: Cal taking his bird away because we were apparently “pissed ” 🙄

Photo credit - me 🫡

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anthonyboyle baftas are always a fun night eh?

yourinstagram he saved your ass, i had you!!!

keoghan92 love I’ll out drink you any day

yourinstagram tbh we weren’t even that drunk

rafflaw you were crying cus you “lost” your boyfriend but he was holding your hand the entire time and barry thought the stalls were narnia entry

keoghan92 that’s a solid night mate

fan23 damn y/n looks good

yourinstagram tits out & every thang 🤗

keoghan92 Oi her heads big enough

liked by enews, yourfriendsig, and 5,391 others

yourinstagram trying to enjoy my lunch but this weird (cute) guy won’t stop bothering me (i love him)

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user12 i need to know what its like to be her

fan23 callum is so down bad for her #relatable

fan21 what did she cover up 👀

yourinstagram lol just cal being cheeky

liked by anthonyboyle and 7183 others

yourinstagram hi handsome ♥️

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fan23 THE WAY HE’S LOOKING AT HER 🙌🏼😭😭

user68 i wonder if he’s aware how many photos she takes of him and she posts them all its weird

yourfriendsig lmao trust he’s aware & he’s obsessed when it comes to y/n

fan21 ppl see shit on the internet & think they know everything ugh 😑

yourinstagram guys let’s all be nice and enjoy looking at my beautiful boyfriend! 😍

liked by yourinstagram and 38175 others

jimmyfallonshow Tune in tonight 10/11 CT to witness Callum Turner swoon over ‘amazing’ girlfriend 💕 ….

When asked if he’s aware how iconic she’s become on social media he said he’s well aware and he isn’t at all surprised before divulging to Jimmy “she’s the one.” 💍 👀

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user23 After watching the interview I’m 100% convinced he’s the golden retriever and she’s the black cat. Y/N loves him but gosh … the way he was talking about her and looking at her?

fan13 IMA CRY ITS NOT LETTING ME WATCH SOMEONE SHARE

y/nupdates It starts with Callum sharing a joke and Jimmy didn’t laugh but Y/N did from the crowd 😂 Callum recognized her laugh and said “thanks baby” and then that’s when Jimmy asked about her IG fame. Callum said “she’s the one man - we aren’t worried about that.” When Jimmy asked how they deal with the attention.

user12 starting to wonder if they’re secretly married/engaged

fan31 Nah and I think it’s beautiful even though they’re aware they are it for each other she’s willing to wait and support him as he enters a new kind of fame

liked by user23, fan12, and 71942 others

yourinstagram Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy - 🥵

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callumfan Y/N PLSSSSSS I CANNNOOOTTT

user41 girllll yes !!!!

fan53 can i please be you???

user91 ur man is so daddy he’s fire

user33 Y/N and Callum daddy kink confirmed

keoghan92 That’s what we called him on set

yourinstagram back off my man barry

rafflaw … we really did though

liked by austinbutler, yourinstagram, and 58194 others

drewbarrymoreshow Hilarious, gorgeous, and kind — yes these guys, but I was referring to the star of tonight’s show Callum Turner’s girlfriend. Her Instagram page is one of my favorite’s, tune in to watch me fan girl over three stars tonight.

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yourinstagram unreal !! i adore you !!❤️❤️

drewbarrymoreshow Text me for our date night 🤗

fan23 everyone loves y/n it’s beautiful to see someone being praised when they’re authentically themselves

user12 shoulda interviewed her too

drewbarrymooreshow 🌚

liked by austinbutler, camilamorrone, and 43817 others

yourinstagram Y/N by me (Cal) 💍♥️😍

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fan31 HIS EMOJI USE?!?? rip me

user12 im gonna cry she’s so smol he’s so tol

fan23 Cal make your own page!!! We know it’ll just be Y/N and we’re okay with it!!! It’s what we want tbh !!!

keoghan92 “why the fuck are you taking a photo” is what she was mid saying

user25 omg he probably crushes her she’s tiny it’s great

liked by zendaya, austinbutler, and 65189 others

yourinstagram 🥹

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fan23 ugh the height difference kills me

user12 they’re so in love it makes me happy

fan33 I believe in love because of them tbh

fan67 idk how he hasn’t popped the question yet

liked by fan21, user33, and 19278 others

cturnerupdates Callum spotted with Y/N and his mother in London back in Feb for his birthday. The group had a picnic at the park and Callum’s mother even braided her hair — Feb 19, 2024

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user13 ohhhh he’s gonna be a girl dad fs

fan54 she’s got the momma’s stamp approval it’s gonna happen

user23 what i wouldn’t give to be his gf and have a picnic w him at the park and have his mom braid my hair

fan56 Is anyone gonna talk about how he’s looking at her? 🥹🥹😍 Definition of heart eyes

————

I’m so down bad for this man so I really couldn’t resist making another one. He’s handsome and charming and manly and ughhhhh kill me!

P.S slight FC use of Olivia Dejonge. Not only is she gorgeous but she’s so smol and I find it so beautiful, especially with how large he is. Needed that picture for a specific use to help identify the size difference between the two but feel free to keep imagining whoever. He’s dated Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa so the hair color constantly changes in pics 😭

Don’t have a tag list but thanks to everyone for all the love, hope ya’ll enjoy this one as well 💕

[olive-fics]

An Old friend.

Synopsis: After not seeing Abby for nearly 5 years, she suddenly comes back into your life like it was nothing.

Men DNI, Mature readers only, reposts are especially welcomed!, Not proof read lol

SUPPORT PALESTINE WITH A CLICK. https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　 　

The notification on your phone was just another blip in the background of your busy life. Work, deadlines, and the relentless march of time had pushed a lot of things into the recesses of your memory — including Abby Anderson.

The relentless flow of people outside in the streets and sidewalks caught your eye as you watched from above in your little cubical. . Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by another notification, this time from a friend, Ellie Williams.

You had met Ellie back in middle school, both of you were little nerds obsessed with savage starlight and music so you two instantly clicked.

"Wanna grab drinks after work? It'll be fun, pus it's a small break from work for you."

of course.

"Idk. . Who else is going? You bringing your 3rd girlfriend of the month with or something?"

"haha Y/N. Just us tonight, maybe we can find you a little girlfriend.."

"Ellie be so fr rn."

"ok ok. but just saying, If there's a hot lesbian there, I'm giving her your number."

"I swear to god.."

The post-Abby relationship had proven to be more challenging than you initially thought. Since the breakup and her abrupt move away, you hadn't gone into any other serious relationships. Sure, you engaged in casual conversations with a few people, but nothing seemed to progress beyond the talking stage.

Your friend Ellie was quite the opposite of you. Ellie is a party enthusiast, a self-proclaimed player, and a lesbian with unapologetic masculine energy. You never really understood how you two clicked.

Waiting for the clock at work to finally strike 5, signaling the end of the day, you finally get to go home. With a sigh, you scanned your closet, hoping to find something not so eye catching, you're just there for some drinks with Ellie. Plus.

You're probably going to be the one needing to carry her home later..

.

Throwing on a simple pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with a small work logo on it, you head out to the bar.

Ellie: "Y/N! Look at youuu! Finally out of the house.." Y/N:"Yeah yeahh.." Ellie:"Come- I already bought us a drink- then lets go dance."

You sighed, the corners of your lips turning up in a laugh as you joined Ellie.

.

Ellie: "So , Y/N. What's been happening in your mysterious world lately?"

Y/N: "Oh, you know, the usual. Work, school, a bit of Netflix.."

Ellie: "Of course.. So, anyone special in your life these days?"

Y/N: "Not really, just the usual talking stages. And you, Ellie? Still breaking hearts?"

Ellie: "Ah, you know me too well." .

The night had carried on, a blur of clinking glasses, casual conversations, and a soundtrack of questionable music.

Eventually, Ellie had to use the restroom, leaving you left by the drinks alone.

Feeling the effects of the drinks, you couldn't help but feel the buzz that had settled in. It had been a while since you let loose and allowed yourself to be carried away by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, and Ellie's horrible dad jokes.

As you searched through the crowd to find Ellie after noticing she disappeared that's when you heard it.

CLANK!

Before you could react you felt a rough hand grab yours and pull you up gently. Startled, you looked up to meet the gaze of the person who had inadvertently collided with you. Their eyes, filled with concern, met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Why did she look so familiar..?

Suddenly snapping you out of your questioning they finally spoke.

"Are you okay?" they asked, their voice tinged with genuine worry.

Caught off guard you nodded, still processing the sudden turn of events. As you steadied yourself, you couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that washed over you.

With a grateful smile, you huffed out a; "I'm fine, thank you. Just got a little lost in the crowd."

You then looked down at your shirt, it was stained red from the strawberry cocktail in her hands.

"Great.." you muttered under your breath, a mix of amusement and frustration.

"Let me buy you another drink to make up for it,"..

Caught in a moment of indecision, you looked up at the girl who had inadvertently stained your shirt.. Your thoughts shifted back to where you and Ellie had been seated for the night. You couldn't just leave Ellie, but the genuine offer of another drink lingered in the air, creating a little dilemma.

"Um, I appreciate the offer, really, but I'm actually here with a friend," you explained, trying to not seem rude.

The girl nodded understandingly, "No worries. I didn't mean to intrude on your night. If your friend is around, maybe we can all grab a drink together?"

You shrugged and nodded, why not?

She had noticed the stain worsening and quickly offered, "Could I at least help you wash that out? I'd hate to ruin your shirt completely..."

You looked down at the stain, and you couldn't deny it was pretty bad.

"Well, it's a unique fashion statement now, I guess,"

She laughed and gently took your hand. "Follow me."

You both went into the restrooms, you propped yourself on top of the sink. The girl then grabbed a Wad of paper towels and ran them under cold water to start blotting at your chest with them.

"Sorry again for the mess." she sighed and made eye contact with you, only to quickly look away.

Did she know something you didn't?..

.

Clearing your throat you looked down at her from the sink.

"It's really no worries.. It's an old shirt.."

"Still..You're all sticky now.."

"I think I've been through worse." You stifle a laugh and look away.

..

"So.. What's your name..?" She asked attempting to make small talk.

"Y/N."

"Right."

"Anyways..let me go buy you that drink."

"True."

You get off the counter and follow the girl back to the bar.

Eventually Ellie came back to her seat next to you.

"Oh? Y/N..Who's this? hmmmm?" She couldn't help but tease you.

"Oh please.. it's just a friend.."

"Right..Wait..what happened to your shirt?? I swear to god whoever did that to you I'll kick their ass-"

"It's okay.." You laughed and calmed Ellie's nerves.

"Accidents happen."

You look to the girl and laugh quietly. God you needed to go home.

..

"You seem on edge." Ellie called out as you two walked back to your apartment.

"Just..buzzed." You lied right to her. goodness.

"I know that's not all y/n."

"That girl was just.. really familiar. Did she seem that way to you too..?"

"Nope. You're just overthinking again."

"probably."

..

You made your way back to your apartment, eager to shed the stained shirt and uncomfortable jeans. As you undressed, something caught your attention in your pocket — a note with someone's number on it?

great.

Starting up a warm bath you add some bubbles and light a candle, you'll worry about the note later. You took off your bra and got into the bath tub scrolling on your phone to then look at the note sitting on your sink.

Fuck it.

"Hey, This the girl from the bar?" You wrote the text, you questioned if you even really wanted a reply.

Ping!

"hah! Yeah, it's me. wyd? :)"

"Taking a bath :p"

"Cute. Proof my love?"

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　 　

ok Ik this sucks but maybe I'll make a part 2..if that's something you guy's would like idk!! :)

[bots-and-cons]

How about knockout secretly becoming friends with reader who is under autobot protection?

A/N: I’ve got these HCs about Knockout’s s/o being under autobot protection. This is a bit of a different thing though, and I thought it was different enough to warrant its own post. These ended up kinda long, because I got invested, lol

•You and Knockout met by total accident, when a few off your friends had dragged you to watch an illegal street racing competition

•You had snuck out without telling the bots so they didn’t know where you were, hence none of them were there to stop you from being a bit reckless and having a good time

•Your friends wanted pictures with the cars and when you got close to Knockout, you noticed the small-ish decepticon insignia

•You of course tried to get your friends away from him, because who knows what he might do if he recognized you as one the autobot’s charges

•Knockout honestly hadn’t been paying much attention to what any of the humans who were under the autobot’s protection looked like, so he didn’t realize who you were right away

•Your friends wanted to take a couple of pictures despite your protests

•Knockout of course told them “Watch the paint job, I don’t want any scratches” as they leaned against him to take the pics

•Your friends thought it was just the driver saying it from inside the car, but you knew otherwise

•Your friends went away to the next car, but you marched up to Knockout’s driver side window and started talking to him

•”Why are you here?” you asked him

•”To race, obviously. Why else?” he scoffed

•That’s when he took a better look at you, because you were obviously talking to him like you knew him

•”Oh, you’re one of the autobot’s pets” you could basically hear the smirk in his voice

•”I’m not anyone’s pet you idiot, they’re my friends” you retorted

•Knockout found himself enjoying your banter, but the friend comment made him somewhat jealous, he couldn’t really call any of the decepticons his friends, except for Breakdown

•That’s basically where your friendship begun, you talked for quite a while and before you realized, your friends had left and so had your ride

•”Dammit, I’m gonna have to walk home” you muttered as the crowd kept thinning

•You didn’t know anyone else there, and your friends had left you there, so you started walking

•Knockout didn’t really say anything as you left, but a couple of minutes later, he realized it was quite cold outside and human’s don’t handle it very well or at least that’s what he’d understood

•He didn’t want you to die because of the cold, because that would just invite retribution from the autobots

•It actually wasn’t that cold, but you did live on the other side of town, so you had quite a long way to go

•Knockout didn’t know where you lived, but he drove after you and offered you a ride

•”So you can kidnap me and take me to the Nemesis? No thanks” you told him as he drove slowly next to you

•”I’m not going to kidnap you. I’m just not giddy at the thought of you dying in the cold and us getting blamed for it”

•You stopped walking and considered it for a moment, you really didn’t feel like walking over 5km in the chilly weather, and it looked like it was about to start raining too

•”Fine, you can take me close, but I’m not telling you where I live” you sighed, and hopped into the passenger’s seat

•You gave him directions, as he talked about something or other

•Knockout tends to talk a lot when he’s nervous, so he just kept talking to you

•You laughed at some of his jokes and he also commented how your friends were kinda mean for leaving you there like that

•You couldn’t help but agree, and you started ranting about your friends and the idiotic things they did sometimes

•You didn’t understand why, but he was just so easy to talk to, and you didn’t need to hide your opinions/feelings about your friends from him or hear a lecture or anything like that

•You could just talk, and he would listen and also validate your feelings by telling you your friends were in fact assholes 

•Knockout stopped at the grocery store parking lot that you had guided him to, but even then you continued talking

•”I know this is probably a stupid thing to say, but thanks, I haven’t been able to vent like that in a long while”

•”No problem, it was nice for me too” Knockout admitted

•He had talked about what an aft Megatron was and how badly Starscream treated him, but it was kind of funny how the inner workings of the decepticon leadership reminded you of a high school mean girls clique or something

•You told Knockout you weren’t going to mention this to the autobots, because you didn’t want a lecture and there really wasn’t anything to tell, he hadn’t done anything bad

•Knockout decided to leave you his comm link number (idk how it would work, but I decided it’s like a phone) so you could contact him if you wanted to

•You wrote it down on the notes on your phone and hopped out

•He could see you waving in the rearview mirror as you walked away

•It was the start of a rather odd friendship, which was not without its problems, but you grew to be good friends and confidants

•Of course you had to keep the whole thing hidden from the autobots, the same way Knockout couldn’t tell any of the cons

[voxisdaddy]

Ice Cream

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Velvette x Reader

Type: Headcanons + Drabble

C/TW: Swearing, mentions of sex, Velvette might be a bit OOC, little to no mention of reader but it’s implied, angst

In which we see how Velvette deals with her break up with reader.

Saw a comment saying something about how Velvette is the type of girl who eats ice cream when she’s sad and it got me thinking of Velvette after a break up with her s/o. So now here’s that lol headcanons + Drabble

Pt.2 Pt.3

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette I can imagine just being angry over a break up rather than sad. Doesn’t matter how it ends, I just know she’s be mad.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She’s usually pretty easy to read; judgemental, quick witted, snarky, mean, and demanding. So when she’s unusually quiet in the Vee’s lounge, eating a tub of ice cream while watching some Hella Novella, the other two Vee’s are, on some level, freaked out.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ They’ve dealt with Velvette post breakup before. She’s angry. She’s mean. She destroys things in a fit of rage. No one can calm her down. Sure Vox can calm down Valentino-but that’s Valentino. The moth pimp can’t even use his smoke to try and calm her down when she’s like this. She might be “new” among the overlords and not have decades upon decades of experience being in hell, but she’s observant. She stays far away from Valentino’s smoke and charming ways as much as possible. She wants to stay mad.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This time though it’s different. Vox and Valentino had discovered the break up. Not personally from Velvette or you-whether or not they know you personally is up to you-but Valentino, who stalked your sinstagram profile the night before, noted to Vox that all the pictures of Velvette on your profile just disappeared. Vox is a busy man, so he didn’t exactly have time to quickly check and have a gossip session with Valentino. But by the time he was able to, your account didn’t even exist anymore. You deleted it. Oh ho. Now this is interesting.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The two greeted her as usual, trying not to act too different. Valentino had a knowing smirk on his face though. I mean, how could he not? Seeing someone down in the dumps was just oh so fun~

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ In turn, Velvette just hummed in acknowledgement-muttering about grabbing another tub of ice cream from the freezer. Vox raised a brow behind her back but did retrieved the tub of ice cream anyways. It was a little thing, not like those big tubs of ice cream. But still, Velvette seemingly intending to eat it all was mildly impressive and concerning.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino joined Velvette on the couch, getting high and eating some ice cream as well. Well, from a tub of his own. Velvette doesn’t particularly like to share-but then again, none of the Vee’s do. Vox ordered some dinner to be delivered, taking off his coat and bow tie before joining his fellow Vee’s in front of the television. Velvette rolled her eyes at the two joining her on the couch. Can’t they see she wants to be left alone?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The night comes to an end with Velvette storming out of the lounge with her dinner and a half tub of ice cream.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This routine would continue for the next 3 weeks; Come home, find Velvette eating ice cream by herself in front of the tv, try to have a decent dinner, Velvette storms off.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It wasn’t until one night where she cracked.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ They had ordered dinner for delivery again. Tonight Velvette had not asked for anything super specific. The Vee’s knew her enough to know her taste anyways, they could figure it out. And if they don’t, that’s too bad for them now is it?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The food came and Velvette felt her dead heart crack. This was your favourite…

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ She scowled, angrily taking her food and marching straight to her personal quarters in the Vee Tower.

“Fucking-OF COURSE they get me this!” Velvette threw her phone at the sofa. She paced around the living room, angrily stomping about and muttering obscenities under her breath.

She huffed before throwing herself on the couch. She clutched her phone as she scrolled through her sinstagram account. She had yet to delete any photos of you on her account. People in the comments were quick to point out how your entire account just seemed to have disappeared, meanwhile Velvette still held onto your pictures on hers.

Their was much speculation about the current status of your relationship. One account was wiped and one remained as though everything was fine. She opened her saved stories and looked through the anniversary pics.

She stopped on a video of the two of you giggling together. Both of you kind of sweaty but feeling quite relieved. You had just finished a session together and were now just laying in bed giggling while holding each other. You were both glowing from the anniversary sex.

The pinkette scowled.

“How dare you dump me?! I’m Velvette! I’m that bitch! I’m the backbone of the Vee’s! You can’t just leave!” She screamed, staring at a picture of you and her together.

Harsh stomping could be heard from Velvette’s floor. Vox rolled his eyes. Satan—even Valentino’s tantrums aren’t usually this obnoxious. Violent yes but stomping? What are they? Suddenly 6 years old or something?

Okay Vox’s weird preferences for tantrums aside, Velvette, uncharacteristically, found herself crying on her sofa.

Every so often she’d be looking at a picture of you, sniffling and glaring harshly.

“I coulda given you—everything!” She swiped to the next photo, “I have money,” next picture, “fame,” next picture, “respect,” she stops on a video of you saying ‘I love you’ to her.

“…”

She slams her phone down on the couch before turning to glare at the now cold dinner sitting on her kitchen island. The meal is flung to the floor in a fit of rage.

“To hell with you!”

Oh ho—you will pay.

Yes. You most certainly will.

[myosotisa]

Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖  summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.

‖  tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol

‖  word count: 8.3k ‖  read on AO3 ‖  the song ‖

None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.

So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.

You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.

Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.

Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.

The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.

"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."

Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."

The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.

The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.

Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.

“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.

The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand. 

Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.

“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”

Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.

“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”

The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”

You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.

Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away  – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.

“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.

"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit. 

“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”

There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.

“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”

“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him.  “The recording keeps going.”

Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.

There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.

“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?” 

The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.

“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–” 

An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.

Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”

“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.

“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.

“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”

All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.

Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.

Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.

“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.

“Over here.”

The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.

Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.

Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.

“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”

“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”

His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.

“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.

“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.

A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.

Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.

Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.

You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.

“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.

Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”

He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he? 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”

You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”

His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”

Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.

Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.

With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.

But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.

“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.

“That depends, what year is it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.

“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”

His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”

This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.

“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”

“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”

“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”

So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.

It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.

Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.

So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.

Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.

The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.

Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.

This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.

Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.

“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.

The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.

“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.

The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”

The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”

His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.

A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”

A blink and he’s gone.

Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.

He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.

As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.

You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.

“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”

“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.

His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”

Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”

He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”

“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.

“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”

There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”

An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”

“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”

There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

“What would I need to do?”

His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”

A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”

A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”

“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”

The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”

“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”

He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.

Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.

Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.

“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”

His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”

His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”

An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.

“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”

He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”

You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.

The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.

“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”

Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.

It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.

Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.

You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.

He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?

In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.

There’s something moving in your mouth.

You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.

You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”

Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”

His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat. 

“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”

Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.

Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!

“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.

He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”

Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”

“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”

You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”

He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.

Since you were dragged through.

There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.

But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.

This is his fault.

He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.

Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.

There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.

“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.

It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.

The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.

“Any news from the fault?”

Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”

Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.

“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”

A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”

“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.

There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”

The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.

The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”

“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.

“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”

Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”

Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”

“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”

“Yes sir.”

The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.

The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”

Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.

They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.

“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.

“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”

“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”

They all fall silent, listening closely.

Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.

The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”

“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”

“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”

Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”

Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.

There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.

“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.

“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”

The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.

Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.

A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.

A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.

The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.

You’re… You’re actually alive.

Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.

“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”

The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”

The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”

“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”

You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.

“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.

“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.

The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.

“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”

The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.

“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”

If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.

Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.

Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.

Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.

“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”

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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

[kalims]

ㅤamongst other things

premise. kisses w/ them, and random things?

featuring. dan heng, blade, jing yuan.

content. gender neutral.

cw. mentions of blood, murder for blade lol. he's just down bad for reader in a weird, blade way ig

note. this is ironic since my first genshin post was also about kisses (AKA me getting bored so I wondered why not get into star rail)

will add others soon ig.. I didn't compile all of them here cuz I honestly lack the characterization for them so woop

dan heng

short, abrupt kisses that rarely ever come by goes as quickly as it came. you'd assume that he's doing it on purpose, giving you the kiss that you've been waiting for all day. it shouldn't even be considered a kiss at all from how fleeting his apparent 'peck' is.

in short it's torture.

keyword: assume. cause as convinced as you are that this is just some form of twisted amusement dan heng gains, that's exactly the problem that it entails. as a person wholly, he's so serious to the point you doubt there's nothing that would entertain him besides books.

you learn he isn't much of a fan of those really long kisses, once you both bore witness to a couple eating each other's face in broad daylight and you spotted his weekly shift of expression, a quirk of few centimeters. in this case, a grimace and he looks away.

he, does not really give kisses a lot. as upset as you are, you do agree that when he does give you a kiss, albeit short. it makes it all the more.. amazing? such a mediocre word wouldn't be able to describe it.

basically when you're both left trying to fit in his small cushion (he could've atleast gotten a bed in all this space.) you also learn that he's a really private man.

you've only ever shared kisses in his room, embraces, everything else for that matter. when the door is locked he quite literally melts into you. if you happen to be sitting together he just leans on to you.

dan heng in public: 😶

dan heng in private: 😊

just doesn't show any affection in public, especially if march is around. that girl would make fun of him for hours end and even drag the trailblazer in on her antics of poking fun.

dan heng is indeed a private man.

march isn't the only factor as to why there hasn't been a lot of kisses out in public. if anything he probably wants to kiss you more than you would like.

he'd be lying if he said he wanted to just kiss you as long as those weird main characters of the romance shows march watches cause even though you might want that as well, dan heng won't ever do it.

cause it isn't him, what he is. is the type to get kisses done as soon as he can not because he doesn't enjoy them. it's because he can take a good look at you once he leans back, just like he does any other day.

to admire you.

and cause dan heng isn't the romantic type to kiss you senseless, but the one to give you looks you'd die for.

blade

if dan heng only gives you kisses a few times a day and you'd consider it torture, better get ready to lose your sanity cause you're lucky if blade even crumples at your hand to give you one.

it's not that he doesn't love you. he feels as though it's wrong to label whatever emotion in his chest as something as strong as love, he won't go that far. but he won't label you as something worthy of hatred either, you're.. tolerable?

if anything blade doesn't outright seek to give you his affection through the form of a kiss. his love language is in fact, not physical affection but destroying your enemies :). (if you have one, if not. then whoever bothers you will suffice.)

but if he does, when he does it's the most blade thing he can do. just grabbing your face with one hand as he gives you one of those rough, deep kisses. it's not really desperate or out of need, despite such a wordless action you could feel some emotion he's pouring into it.

better pray it's not hate cause.. 💀

funny thing cause as much as he hates being piled in the same sentence as dan heng, in a way they're rather similar. both just preferring to witness, given their life span.. maybe it's some type of response they're used to.

blade doesn't really do the 'oh I love you' or the random hugs. the fact that he'd even stand so close to you instead of isolating himself and looking all mysterious leaning on a pillar already spoke volumes of his fondness (if not admitted.)

he just.. watches you?

silver wolf comments about it when she's caught his eyes on you many times midst a conversation, behind your back, staring. "better watch out." she says, but even with her disturbed gaze never does he tear his eyes away.

well.

kafka does take it in more stride than her. as someone who's spent a hefty time with blade, even someone as analytical as her can't tell which things he likes, and hates. besides all the blood and pain (well usually for his opponents.)

she for one, tells you that he does indeed like you. cause she can control who blade murders 'for her own good'. but if there's even a single glimpse of drop from a wound he's going feral, and not even kafka or her spirit whisper can tame his rage.

AKA... just lots of murder?

'for your own good :)'.

blade wholly believes that he doesn't need to shower you in affection, or kisses at all. but if you're really so insistent on them he'll give into you, which is surprising cause he's a pretty stubborn man.

most affection you'd get in physical means is when he completely collapses into you, perhaps a sign of weakness. but also trust. one of the rare times he's exhausted himself in his mind to the point where he can't even do anything.

#icanfixhim.

jing yuan

a cheeky man, this one.

jing yuan could give you a load, barriage, arrows, whatever describes the endless assault of pecks he attacks your face with. emphasis on 'could', he has the ability, and the freedom but it doesn't mean he's going to :)

in short you have to work for it, he says.

you can't tell if he's trying to give you one of those motivational, slapping you back to reality lessons or messing with you. you're going to go for the latter since someone as bold as he is lazy.. even jing yuan would relate enough to not hit you with the lesson card.

in a way he's always dragging the time you've gone by without a kiss from him as long as he can just for the sole reason he can see your attempts to conceal your bothered face, even better when the expression of content is all but displayed to him once he gives in.

what? he can't resist you, you know?

you have a feeling he's teasing you again when he says that but it's better to not ponder upon it.

for someone who prefers to 'conserve' his energy. he's got a lot to spare when it comes to the repeated kisses pressed upon your lips, cheeks, eyelids, forehead.. whatever his own mouth can reach. (his favorite is the edges of your eyes..)

just for some reason, one he can't exactly name he ends up giving that particular area more love compared to the others. sometimes more lighter, feathery pecks when he's feeling playful. or the occasional longer, deep press of his lips when he's feeling rather sentimental about his feelings.

he doesn't deserve you.. but if not him, who else? ;)

gets mimi to help him into trapping you inside his office, jing yuan 'calls for your presence' but once you're inside rather than the pressing matters he apparently had to discuss with you (present in his message.) you're met with the man practically snuggling into you as he keeps you in his arms.

rather effortlessly if you might add!

and if you somehow managed to wriggle out his grip. you swore you saw him give the... big... cat a look and suddenly mimi is choosing to sleep right in front of the doors..

come back or you will not get kisses for two days (he's scamming u)

note. NOT PR... hi hsr fandom 🕳 posting in a new fandom makes me so nerviosity

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-One

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: More angst, but of the wolfy-variety!

Notes: I know I said two chapters before Jasper, but I had to fit this one in which is why I’m posting out of my normal window. Trust the process when it comes to why I did what I did this chapter lol and if you don’t spot it, everything will be fine (famous last words). Honestly I think I’m just healing inner me with how I wish conversations should’ve happened in the movie lol

Word Count: 2401

Series Masterlist

• March 8th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Time starts to pass by a little easier with Quil, the quiet isn’t as deafening even when there’s a comfortable silence. I think the same could be said for Quil, since all of his Rez friends have gone AWOL.

Our days are usually spent under blankets on my couch, watching movies and just being present for each other. Plus, there’s not much to do in this tiny ass town anyways.

“Heard anything?” I ask him tentatively, hopefully.

He shakes his head solemnly in response, eyes never leaving the tv. The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk about Jake or Embry twists a new little knife in my gut.

“I’m okay, Y/n/n.” The grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I hate it.

“It’s okay to miss them, I know it’s hard to be stuck with just me now-”

“Don’t.” He reaches over to grab my ankle since I’m facing him on the couch and drags it to his lap, “You’re here and they’re not. I was friends with them longer and they ditched me for other dudes. I’m where I want to be.”

“You don’t have to hold it all in, I’m familiar with that feeling.” I nudge his hand with my socked foot to get him to look at me. “What good am I if I don’t therapize you too?”

“That would insinuate I do anything for you, you won’t talk about him.” His gaze levels on me and I’m caught red handed.

“There’s not much to it, I-I loved him and he’s gone. End of story.” I pick at the loose strings on my blanket, the topic hard for me to meet his eyes.

“There’s everything to it.” He squeezes my foot, “Not end of story, you deserve to vent just as much as I do. You don’t need to feel guilty for grieving him, heartache is a real bitch.”

“Heartache is a bitch, huh?” I huff a laugh as I try to breathe through the tears that want to spring up.

“Y/n, I’m the loneliest guy on the planet. In the male friends department and the girlfriend department, don’t make fun of me.” His lighthearted tone trying and failing to make light of his situation.

“We’re just fucked, aren’t we?” His brown eyes meet mine as we commiserate in our collective sadness.

His head drops back against the back of the couch, “Beyond comprehension, my dear Y/n/n.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

My finger hovers over a text to Quil, asking him to come over, when I get a call from my other best friend.

“Bells, hey-”

“I need backup.” Her request draws me up short. “I’m going to the Rez-I need to see Jacob.”

“Bella, he’s with Sam now-”

“I don’t care anymore, you in?” She presses.

“I was in the second you called, I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Good, because I’m almost there.” Hanging up the phone, I grab a jacket and my shoes.

So much for the first day of Spring Break, might as well start it off with a bang.

•March 11th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•

Reader

Bella slid to a stop in Jacob’s driveway and both of us hopped out, memories of bike-building settling like a weight in my stomach. It wasn’t even that long ago and I miss it, I miss Jacob.

Bella knocks on the glass pane of his front door and Billy Black answers, “Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He-,” glancing between us briefly, “he’s not in.” The lie blatantly obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Bella pushes past his wheelchair and inside the house, “I really need to see him.”

I remain awkwardly on the front porch, torn between not wanting to intrude or following my friend.

“Bella!” Billy’s warning is ineffective as she storms to Jacob’s room.

Just when the situation couldn’t possibly get worse, I spot four shirtless figures emerging from the forest by the house, Sam’s group.

I hear the back door open and shut and I just know it’s Bella.

I sprint around the house to catch up to her, “Bella!” But my warning falls on deaf ears, she’s on a warpath for the boys. “Shit.” I mutter under my breath.

Stomping up to the tallest - Sam, “What did you do?” She pushes his chest, hard. “What did you do, huh? What did you do to him?!”

“Hey - watch it!” The other two guys plus Embry shout as they step up around their leader.

“Easy.” The word is more of a growl than anything and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

If this comes to a fight, we’re fucked.

“He didn’t want this!” Her desperation pulls at my heart.

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” The questions from the guy to Sam’s right are rapid-fire, his anger clearly volatile.

“He tells me nothing, because he’s scared of you!”

The same guy barks out a laugh, clearly he finds her concern for Jacob silly.

“Bella, let’s go home-” but my plead immediately goes unheard because she throws a fucking right hook for the guys face, son of a bitch.

“Too late now.” Another guy jokes, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Bella, get back!” Sam orders, trying to diffuse the situation as this guy begins to shake.

I grab her arm and we slowly start to retreat for her truck, too scared to turn and take our eyes off of the angry male.

“Bella…” I whisper, unsure of what to do.

“Paul! Calm down now.” The authority in Sam’s voice rings through the backyard, but it’s too late somehow.

The shaking and heavy breathing from Paul leads to a transformation that snatches my breath from my body - a wolf. And not just any wolf, a wolf from the fucking meadow. A wolf that saved us from Laraunt, now standing before us where Paul was.

Where Paul was.

Paul is a wolf. A really big one at that - a really big angry one.

Anger directed at Bella and by association, me. The death grip I have on her fucking arm has to be painful, but the menacing look in his eyes shocks me to my bones.

Bella moves before I do, using my tight grip on her to yank me into action with her as she makes for Jacob’s house.

“Bella! Y/n!” Jake yells, clearing the back porch railing in one leap, sprinting for us.

“Run! Jake, run!” Bella screams back at him, but he charges towards us anyways.

He jumps last minute before he reaches us and I trip trying to follow his path with my eyes before-

Before he turns into a fucking wolf too.

Jacob Black, our best friend, is a wolf? I mean, vampires are definitely a thing, but wolves?

Squaring off with Paul, both the russet-colored wolf and the silver-grey wolf launch for each other. Snapping and snarling as they roll into the woods, my heart painfully thumps in my chest, Jacob.

“Hey, take the girls back to Emily’s place.” Sam orders Embry and the last remaining male, both of them jogging over to us.

“I guess the wolf’s out of the bag.” They joke, ushering us up and towards Bella’s truck.

They’re wolves, Sam’s gaggle of Rez boys are fucking wolves. Jacob is one of them and so is Embry, what about Quil? Is this why they’ve ditched him, ditched us? Wolves can’t be friends with humans? What do I even tell him, or should I tell him anything?

My mind is racing a million miles an hour in the span of seconds with questions I desperately need answers to.

Embry holds open the passenger side door to Bella’s truck with a smile and I walk right past his invitation to climb in the bed with the newly acquainted Jared.

“Y/n, that’s not safe-”

“I’ll be fine.” I don’t even spare a glance at him with my monotone answer, I’m mad at him for how he’s treating Quil.

Jared raises his eyebrows and quirks a grin. “Feisty, I like it.”

Embry huffs as he shuts the door behind Bella and rounds the truck for the driver’s side, “Don’t encourage her, man.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Uley Residence •

Reader

“Hey I think we should go back and see if Jacob’s okay.” Bella rolls down her window as the rest of us hop out of her truck.

“I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him, serves him right.” Jared quips to Embry.

“No way! Jacob’s a natural, you see him phase on the fly? I got five that says Paul doesn’t even touch him.” Embry argues, “C’mon in Bella! We won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jared jokes and I shove him as we turn to walk inside.

“Oh hey, about Emily - Sam’s fiancé? Don’t stare, it bugs Sam.” Embry warns both of us before following Jared.

“Why would we stare?” Bella asks and I shrug, just as confused.

“You guys hungry? Like I have to ask.” The female in the kitchen asks the boys, laughing at what must be an inside joke. “Who’s this?” She asks after turning around, glancing between us.

“Bella Swan and Y/n Y/l/n.” Jared answers her.

“Hmm… So, you’re the vampire girl-well, girls.” I instantly admire her easy-going vibe, diving straight in to acknowledge the elephant in the room to get it over with.

“So you’re the wolf girl?” Bella asks in return, accepting her olive branch.

“Guess so,” smiling to herself, she picks up the largest platter I’ve ever seen of muffins, “Well, I’m engaged to one.” Snatching both Embry and Jared’s hands as they reach- “Save some for your brothers! And ladies first, muffin?” It’s comical, the way she mothers them.

“Thank you, Emily.” I smile at her and sit across from Jared, the muffin still warm from the oven.

“Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam’s gag order.” Emily scoffs, not surprised.

“Umm, he didn’t… Say anything to us.” Glancing at me, Bella explains.

“That’s a wolf thing, alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want ‘em to or not. Oh and check it out - we can hear each other’s thoughts.” Embry brags and I gape, this is all fucking wild.

“Would you shut up! These are trade secrets - damnit, these chicks run with vampires!” Jared’s frustration is lighthearted as he admonishes Embry for giving away some of their abilities.

“Can’t really run with vampires,” Emily and I chuckle at the boys not quite catching on, “Because they’re fast.”

“Yeah? Well we’re faster. Freaked out yet?”

“You’re not the first monsters we’ve met.”

“Jake’s right, you’re good with weird.” Sam nods at us, beelining for Emily as soon as he steps in the door. He presses kisses to her lips and then all over her face, causing her to giggle. The obvious display of affection carving out my heart just a little bit more - looking away I set my muffin down, no longer hungry.

Pushing and shoving each other, Paul and Jacob finally show - unhurt and brotherly even. They just beat the shit out of each other and they’re tighter than ever? Boys.

“Sorry.” Paul apologizes and flashes what has to be his signature smile at both of us.

I catch Jacob jerking his head towards the door and Bella follows, probably off to explain this whole entire shit show. I turn my gaze to Embry and level a glare on my former friend, waiting for him to say something.

“You going to let me explain? Or are you going to look at me like you’d like to castrate me until Bella gets back?” Embry stares right back, munching on another muffin.

“Jared?” I look at him sweetly and he grins, “take me home?”

Embry stands so quick and his chair teeters dangerously on two legs for a moment. “Y/n.” His tone is hard, done with this game.

“Embry.” I match him back.

He walks out the front door and it drags me from my own chair, this blowout long overdue.

“You know now and you’re still fucking mad at me?” He turns, leaning against Bella’s truck and folding his arms.

“I don’t even know where to start, Embry!” I yell at him exasperated. “You ditched us, you ditched your longest running best friend-”

“I had no choice!”

“He’s struggling-”

“I’m struggling!” His eyes are wild and his hands have a slight shake, “Cutting everyone out has been the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done! I can’t tell anyone, can’t see anyone, can’t do what I want to do anymore! I belong to this Reservation, to this pack, to Sam now. He says jump, I ask how high. He says keep your mouth shut, I cut everyone out. It’s how it has to be.”

“Embry, that’s no way to live.” My heart breaks for his situation.

“It’s in my blood and not something I can opt out of, Y/n/n. Besides, they’re my brothers now and they need me as much as I need them.”

I surge forward to hug him, “I’m still mad at you for Quil.”

“I missed you too.” I hear his grin as I hug him tight. “You can’t tell him though.”

Immediately I retreat, “What?”

“It’s a tribe secret, the pack is sacred and must be protected.”

“He wouldn’t done anything to endanger-”

“It doesn’t matter, anyone on the outside has to stay on the outside. It’s not like I don’t want to, he’s my best fucking friend. But he doesn’t have a need-to-know.”

“Embry-”

“I can’t argue with you about this, please drop it.” His wide eyes plead with me and I surrender.

“Okay, okay. Consider it dropped.” I mime like I’m locking my lips closed and I toss the invisible key over my shoulder.

“Good,” throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leads me back inside, “Now you can hang with the big dogs.”

“Okay I’m going to need you to not make stupid jokes about this situation.” But I laugh anyways, I miss this - him.

I smile to myself, happy to finally have people back in my life that I thought were gone for good. I still feel the massive hole in my chest, but the pain is on the back burner for now.

At least until I’m alone again.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[ughgoaway]

don't you think of me?

plot; snapshots of your breakup, with one letter underlining it all.

word count; 6.9k-ish

content warnings; swearing, dramatic overreactions, distressing dreams, depression, blood, general sad vibes, drinking and no happy ending (oops <3)

a/n; guys... angst is SO HARD. idk how people write it sooooo well. this fic is inspired by the songs "Sad Beautiful Tragic" and "I Almost Do" and the storyline is based completely on those songs! but there are a few other Taylor song references in the fic too. anyway, this kind of jumps around a lot, perspectives and timelines. so if it's completely incomprehensible, I am so sorry!! lemme know if it's so awful I need to have a re-write lol. I really hope the flashbacks are clear, and that this timeline makes any sense whatsoever <3

(p.s this is basically dedicated to 🍪 anon and bff anon, ty for riding so hard for this fic lol)

(this is non-canon)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

The cold wind hurts Matty's face as he battles against it. Each gust feels like needles prickling his cheeks. But still, he pushes through, not really feeling much of anything these days anyway. The paper in his pocket scratches his hands as he burrows them in deeper, but he just grips it harder. The scratches made him feel more human anyway. They convinced his hazy head that maybe life was still happening around him. 

The red post box in front of him is almost taunting. He stands frozen, gripping the letter he’s worked so hard on tightly. He has the passing thought of just letting it go, watching it blow away in the breeze, and never having to think about it again. 

He never has to think about you again. 

But he knows that's unrealistic. How can he never think of you again when you're all he thinks about? Every waking thought he has is about you. He still thinks about how your breathing changed when you slept next to him. The way your lips curved into the smirk he loved whenever you teased him. The flush that covered your cheeks when he did it back. 

Every morning, he still gets out 2 mugs. He still grabs your favourite wine at the shops and doesn't say yes to plans without thinking if he should check with you first. The last time he saw you was still burned into the back of his mind, and he was not sure it could ever leave. 

And to be honest, he doesn't know if he wants it to. If healing means forgetting you, forgetting everything you built, then maybe it is better to live in the pain. Each time he begins to heal, he picks up the scab over and over again. The sting reminded him of you, so he picked and picked. Blood poured from him relentlessly, but that was all he could do. Bleeding for you was all he had of you anymore.

He shoved the letter in and walked away briskly. He fought every bone in his body telling him to go back. To smash the post box and filter through every letter until he found his. He imagined a world in which he hadn't sent it, where instead he turned around and marched back to his house. 

Or maybe there's a world where he marched to your house instead. Maybe he finally got over himself and told you everything in person. He begged and pleaded for you to forgive him, to look him in the eyes and tell him you've been hurting just as much as him.

Matty isn't sure that world exists, though.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

3 days later, when it arrives, you stare at it endlessly. You move it from place to place in your apartment and try to visualise opening it there. But soon enough, that just becomes you avoiding that room like the plague, and you start to treat parts of your flat like they are infested with a deadly virus. But they're not, really. They're just filled with a small envelope with your name on it and a return address you know all too well.

You decide you aren't going to read it 2 days later. You hold it over a candle and watch the amber flames lick the bottom of the envelope. But before you can set it ablaze, some instinct takes over, and suddenly, it's the most important object you've ever owned. You pull it from the flames and put it out with your fingers, not caring if the fire sizzles your skin. You cry and beg for it to be okay, tears streaming from your cheeks as you frantically pull it open, “No no no. fuck, please.” 

But the letter inside was unscathed, just the corner of the envelope was covered in a thin layer of ash. As soon as you see that handwriting, though, you feel the unspeakable urge to burn it again, to set it on fire and watch it burn. 

You don’t. 

You lay it on the table and go to bed. You decide tomorrow will be the day you do something with it, even though you promised yourself that every day since you got it. But you're sure tomorrow will really be the day. It has to be.

You return to the warm solace of the bed you've grown to know too well over the past few weeks, and the duvet welcomes you in like an old friend.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

It's a few days after he sent the letter and the day after you received it when he sees you for the first time, and he can't quite believe it. There you were, standing in the coffee shop you always went to together. 

He wondered if the baristas had noticed you both started to come in without the other. Maybe they started gossiping about it, “Did those customers break up? I never see them together any more” and he could almost see someone else saying “I hope not. They were cute.”

Even though he knew no one would ever actually say that, and that the baristas hadn't noticed anything.

Some force that he couldn't explain pulled him towards you, and before he knew it, he was reaching for your arm. “Hi” he breathed out heavily, staring at you like he wasn't sure you were real. He wasn't convinced that you were anything but a figment of his imagination. Has his delusions about you already gotten to the point where he's having visions? He thought it would take a few more months for that.

“Matty?” You say gently, tracing your eyes over the man in front of you. Hearing your soft voice after months without you felt like heaven on earth for Matty, relaxation washing over him just at the soft dulcet tones of you.

Matty smiled softly at you, and you immediately returned it. He can see the cogs turning in your head on how to greet him. Was a hug too much? Is a wave too little? Is a handshake too formal? Overthinking was one thing you were so good. Matty was sure you could win an award for it. So he decided to take the decision into his own hands and wrapped out up in a hug, burrowing his face in your hair and smelling that familiar floral aura he'd fallen in love with.

Your whole body tensed when he first touched you. The once familiar feeling now was slightly cold and awkward. But Matty felt you relax and couldn't help the grin that spread across his face the the feeling of your head in his neck, the place you always used to lay. He swore he could feel you breathe him in, but soon convinced himself it was wishful thinking.

Reluctantly, you pull away, looking up at Matty with glassy eyes. The barista next to you clears his throat, bringing you both back to earth and out of whatever haze you were in. “your tea is ready” he says awkwardly, eyeing you and Matty with a sly smile on his lips.

“Right! Sorry, yes. Thank you” You grab your cup and turn back to Matty nervously. He can see the anxiety radiating off you, just like it always had. He never thought it would be directed at him, but he tries not to overthink it too much.

“Do you-” You clear your throat, shaking your head as you try to process that you're seeing him again. Seeing your Matty. “Do you want to sit with me? Catch up?” 

Matty can see your hands shaking around your cup and the nervousness swimming in your eyes. “Of course,” he says easily. He could never deny an opportunity to spend time with you. Especially not when he hadn't seen you in so long. And certainly not when you still take up his every waking thought. 

The conversation flows like you had never left, easily chatting and catching up like you always had. You tell Matty about the cat you adopted and how she loves to sit on top of the fridge to scare you. He tells you about his mum and her latest drama. Her kitchen cupboards were the wrong colour of grey, and it was the topic of conversation for much longer than he thought possible.

The first bout of silence comes when you ask about Annie, and Matty can tell it took every ounce of strength to force the words out of your mouth. You felt like someone had taken one of your vital organs when you left her, and you can still see her face in your mind whenever you close your eyes.

“she's good. Misses you, though. Especially because she doesn't see you at school anymore since you got a new job” he says with a solemn smile. Matty tries to hold eye contact, but he gives up a few seconds into it, instead staring at his coffee as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. 

Thankfully, soon enough, the once stilted silence becomes easy chatter and laughter all over again, Matty welcomed the warm conversation with open arms, missing your presence more than he ever thought possible.

But Matty's mouth soon got ahead of him, “so when was the last time I saw you?” he asked thoughtlessly. His brain was on autopilot, and the words poured out of him before he could stop it. The very topic you'd both been dancing around was now laid out in front of you, and it couldn't be ignored. 

Matty saw something in your demeanour change, your once soft smile morphing into a faux-happy grimace, “Don't you remember? You screaming at me in the kitchen? And then storming out after saying what you did? Maybe you remember smashing a plate on the floor?” Matty pauses at your words, not quite believing you're deciding to re-hash all of this in the middle of a coffee shop, especially with a massive and slightly creepy grin on your face, but he answers anyway. 

“Of course, I remember. And there's not enough words to say how sorry I am but-” he stutters as he tries to explain himself more, but you cut him off, gently placing a hand on his arm.

“Are you sure you remember? When you left me? Abandoned me? Left me sobbing and alone? What about the 30 phone calls you ignored?” You kept talking, and Matty couldn't get a word in, your voice increasing in volume with each desperate question. 

“Look I’m so sorry-” Matty desperately looked around him to see if people were staring at your raised voice, but the cafe was empty. The once bustling coffee shop is now like a ghost town, with no evidence of another human ever being in there. 

He flicks his head back to yours, only to be in his kitchen, forced back to that night. He stares at you in your pyjamas, tears streaming down your face. He flicks his eyes down to see him dressed in the same liquor-stained clothes, and he can taste the red wine on his tongue.

“Why” you whispered over and over again, gradually getting louder, eventually shouting at Matty as he stood there motionless.

Matty wakes up in a cold sweat, panting wildly as his brain fights to figure out what the fuck is happening. He scrambles to his phone and realises; it's still the same day. It was just another fucking dream. He knows nightmare would be the better word, but he can't bring himself to describe anything with you in it as a nightmare. 

With a heavy sigh, he flops back to his pillow, gripping his phone desperately and trying to fight the urge to call you. It almost doesn't work, and he clicks on your contact and lets his thumb hover over the call button. He sees the unanswered calls and the pleading messages. He can feel the desperation through the screen. 

He thinks your new boyfriend must've blocked his number because that's easier than thinking that you just hate him. Each time he reaches out, there’s no reply, and he feels a part of himself die.

He hadn't tried for a few months now, but he still had that urge to type out his every thought, to send it and call you until you answered. But he doesn't. 

It doesn't occur to Matty that the real reason that the reason you don't answer isn't because of a new boyfriend or because you hate him. Instead, it’s because you know you can't deal with another goodbye. You can't risk all this happening again. You were already practically ripped open. You can't risk tearing the very stitches you worked so hard to sew closed.

But matty doesn't know that, so with a huff, he clicks off you and onto George, and this time, he lets the phone ring.

“Huh? what-” he hears the groggy voice over the phone mutter, and it's then he realises maybe ringing George at 3 am because he had a nightmare wasn't the best decision. But it was too late now, and he could practically see George's expectant face from the other side of the phone. 

“Hi. it um- it happened again” Matty said with a huff, falling back into the pillows and staring at the moonlight dancing across his ceiling. He heard George's heavy sigh and the distinct sound of ruffling sheets, George had sat up instinctively, knowing something was up.

“What was it this time? Did everyone in the crowd turn into her again” George says softly, rubbing at his tired eyes and fighting a yawn. 

“No, it started off really nice this time. I saw her again at that cafe we always went to, you know the one near the studio? We were just chatting and catching up. But then she wouldn't stop talking about that night, telling me what happened all over again. And then I blinked, and I was back. I was in that kitchen again, just staring at her.” Matty follows the moonbeams with his eyes, lingering on the two beams crossing over, only for their paths to separate once again.

It reminded him of you and him.

“I think you need to get some lavender oil or some shit. You need to sleep. And these nightmares aren't helping” George says firmly, Matty would usually fight him tooth and nail at the suggestion.

He claimed it was because that stuff had never worked for him, but George knew it was because he saw it as still having a part of you in his life. Even if you were there in the form of his demons, at least they all looked like you.

But to his surprise, Matty immediately crumbled, “Yeah, you're right. Will you come to Boots with me after the studio tomorrow?” George agreed quickly before Matty could change his mind.

But he didn't try to, Matty simply said, “Thanks. Okay, I'll let you sleep now… Bye.” And before George could tell him it was okay, and he’d stay chatting as long as Matty needed, he was gone. 

Tears leaked from Matty’s eyes, wetting the same pillow where you used to lay your head. This loop of healing felt endless, and Matty wasn't sure if fixing this was possible when he knew you were still out there without him. Forever wouldn't have even been enough with you, but now he has nothing. What is he meant to do with no you?

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

As Matty lay awake in Manchester, you were in the same position in London. The same lonely bed, but different cities. Unlike him, you haven't managed to sleep yet. Instead, you can't stop your brain from imagining what is in that letter. Your mind falls back to that night, and you replay the events over and over again. Every word Matty said was etched in your mind, so it played easily, the same script ringing in your ears all these months later.

//////////////////////

Matty shut the door delicately. Getting home at 2 am. was already bad enough. He didn't want to wake you or Annie in the process. But when he saw the light pouring out of the kitchen and heard the distinct hissing of the kettle, he knew you were awake. And he knew you were waiting for him.

He walked into the kitchen silently, leaning on the counter and watching you potter around, he remember when he used to sit here for hours and dream of you in his house. Now he's not even sure the last time you said I love you to each other. You continue to ignore Matty, but you getting a second mug out of the cupboard tells him all he needs to know. This is going to be a long night. 

“At the studio late again?” You ask, passing Matty his mug and leaning across from him. Your eyes trace up his figure, and you can't help but think you don't recognise the man in front of you. His clothes hung off of him, and heavy bags sat under his empty eyes. His hair was standing on end, once perfectly manicured curls now frazzled beyond repair.

“Yeah, George wanted to fix this harmony. Sorry I'm back so late” he knew lying to you was wrong. He really did. But he couldn't bring himself to explain where he actually was, drinking alone in a bar rather than at home with his family.

“Oh. okay.” you pause and wait for Matty to correct himself, giving him a chance to be fucking honest for once. But he doesn't, so you push again.

“That's weird though, because I asked Charli where George was 2 hours ago, and she sent a photo of them together. In bed.”

Matty's eyes widened. He knew he'd just been caught, but he wasn't ready to give up the lie yet. He just needed a few more weeks away, and then he would come back. Then everything would be made right again. So his tipsy mind comes up with a new lie and pleads with whatever God there might be that would believe him, “Oh did I say George? I meant Hann, you know how I get when it's late”

“Matty. You stink of booze. Do you think im an idiot?” You sigh, placing your tea down and crossing your arms over your chest. The anger bubbling within you was threatening to spill over. You felt as if every word from Matty was a stab, yet he kept just pushing the knife deeper.

“So I had a drink at the studio! Sue me, Jesus Christ” Matty sneers at you as he talks, slamming his cup onto the counter, ignoring the burning on his hand from the tea falling over the rim.

“Liar” you click your tongue at Matty and cast your eyes to the floor. Staring into his eyes as he lied to you was agony, and you're not sure how much more pain you can take.

“I'm not lying. I swear I just-” he tries to argue, but you refuse to let him keep going.

“I know you're lying. You're always fucking lying! You weren't at the studio.” you sighed heavily flicking your eyes up to Matty briefly, but the tension was too much, it hurt to look at him.  

“Baby, cmon, calm down. It’s okay, yeah? I’m here now,” Matty moved towards you, grabbing your cheek in his hand and moving in to kiss you, prepared to make this all melt away just like he always did. You try to push him away, but Matty stands strong. He had to fix this. He needed to kiss and make up. It was all he knew how to do.

“Would you just fucking listen” you shout, pushing Matty back across from you, “I don't even know who you are anymore! These past few weeks have made you into a man I don't even fucking recognise.” You look up at him with crazed eyes and scoff at the sight of the man in front of you. 

You were done with it all. The lying, the running away, the sleuthing around. Done. You were having this conversation, and you were having it now.

“No please don't say that. You know me. I don't know who I am without you knowing me,” Matty begged, sobering up quickly at your words.

He needs to bring this back, claw what little life you had left in you to the surface. Everything that left Matty’s life has had claw marks in it, and he would be damned if he'd let you go without the same scars.

“Don't you understand that's the fucking issue, Matty? You don't know who you are anymore, I don't know who you are anymore. You need to be a person without me.” your words struck Matty in the chest like a bullet. 

Were you seriously suggesting what he thinks you are? Do you actually want to break up with him?

Matty baulks at your words. Every feeling he’d had over the past few months was catching up to him, crashing into each other in his brain as they fought to be let out. Anger won because, of course, it won. It seems to always win.

He decides that if you want to break up, then he'll do it himself. He can't let you beat him to it. He knows it's childish, but he doesn't fucking care. He needs to win this. “Please, I've been a person without you for 30 fucking years. I’m a fucking dad! I don't need you to tell me who I am.”

“Annie needs both her parents, Matty. We need you back, please.” The mention of Annie makes outrage bubble within him like it had never done before. He can't believe you'd practically threatened to break up with him one minute and then beg for him back for the sake of his daughter the next. Because that is what she is, she's his daughter.

“You don't know what it's like to be a parent y/n,” Matty mumbles under his breath, but he might as well have screamed it at you because that's how loudly it rang in your ears. He knew he'd fucked up as soon as he said it, but there was no going back now, and he could see that in your eyes.

“I don't know what it's like to be a parent. Are you fucking kidding Matty? What the hell have I been doing here for the past year? Just fucking around? I can't believe you could say that to me.” You hear your voice wavering as you force each word out. 

“Annie is just as much my daughter as she is yours” you whisper desperately. The regret of mentioning Annie was building in your chest, and it felt like a rock impeding your lungs, each breath fighting against the weight. but it was too late to take anything back now. Both you and Matty knew it.

Matty scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes as he fiddles with his fingers. He tries desperately to cool his raging mind, but he can't. He figures if he is already in this deep, why not stoop a little lower?

“Just as much your daughter? Please. You weren't here for fucking any of it. Where were you here when she was born? How about when she was sick for the first time and wouldn't let me put her down without screaming bloody murder? Or- or how about when she broke her arm and she cried when she couldn't have a pink cast? Or maybe for any fucking time apart from the last 12 months. I know you liked playing happy families y/n, but be fucking real for 5 seconds. You were her teacher, maybe a fun friend, but nothing more. And if you think you were, you're more delusional than I thought.”

His chest heaved as he finished, not taking a single breath during his rambling speech, he could see your wet eyes and he felt his heart aching but he just couldn't stop himself, words tumbling out of his mouth. "Even if you stayed, even if you never give up on us, on this. You could never be her mother.”

Both of you pause, the silence thick and heavy around you. How long could you stand like this and pretend he didn’t say that? Maybe if you just stayed there and listened to your ragged breathing, something would change.

But nothing did.

“Fuck you. You told me I was practically her mother a month ago. You said to me I was it for you, that your family was complete. I can't believe-” words poured out of you, streaming helplessly as you paced the kitchen. 

Matty tried to cut in, desperate to get a word in edgeways. The need to defend himself was all-consuming. He needed to know that you understood he said it in the heat of the moment. Words fall out of his mouth without thinking. He can’t help it.

“y/n, love-”

“I’m not her mother? Tell that to the time I took her dress shopping for your mum's wedding. Or when I took her to A&E with suspected appendicitis. and-”

“y/n. Stop, just listen to me, please.” Matty begs, he almost inches closer to you, but some ineffable force keeps him where he is, watching you pace helplessly.

“Listen to you? Oh, I've done plenty of fucking listening Matthew. All I do is listen to you! But you never fucking hear me-” 

“Can you just shut up for 5 fucking seconds” Matty shouted, grabbing a plate from beside him, throwing it against the concrete floor, watching it shatter into a thousand pieces. He just needed you to look at him, to tell him you could fix this, but you wouldn't stop talking.

A gasp from you pulls him back to earth, and he feels his heart break into as many pieces as the plate below his feet. Your wide eyes and tear-stained cheeks glare back at him, and Matty has nothing to say. He has no fucking idea what just came over him.

Matty gingerly takes a step towards you, trying to avoid the ceramic splayed over the floor. His fingers shake as he reaches his hand out to your cheek, wanting to thumb away the tears falling.

But just as he does, he sees you flinch. It wasn't even a full movement, practically a micro-expression. But you fucking flinched. And you both knew it. The veil of silence over you is thick as you both stand there motionless with no idea what you could say to fix this. To make the last 10 minutes disappear. 

Matty’s touch used to calm you. It was the only reassurance you needed. But now the mere thought of it filled you with some twisted sense of fear. The woman he had planned the rest of his life with was scared of him. And it was all his fucking fault. How had this all become his worst nightmare? How had the very thing he sacrificed so much to build crumbled and destroyed itself so deeply?

“Matty wait- I’m sorry, I was just still on edge. It's okay, im okay. See?” With a shaking hand, you grip his, bringing it to your face despite his protests. You can feel him trying to pull his arm away, but you fight him at every tug. Forcibly placing his hand on your wet cheek.

As soon as your hand drops from his, Matty wrenches away from you. The feeling of your cheek against his palm felt as if his skin was burning. The pain touched his every nerve. 

The air is charged with pure fear as you stare at the other, both of your chests heaving and your eyes glassy with unshed tears. Without thinking it through, Matty storms off, grabbing his keys as he pushes through the house. You chase after him, ignoring the blades of ceramic impaling your sock-covered feet, “No don't leave, Matty, please. Stay, stay here.” You reach to grab his arm, but Matty snatches it away before you can even feel his skin against yours.

“I’m leaving. I’m staying at George tonight. Tomorrow I’ll come pick Annie up from school. You will call in and take a sick day. Start packing your shit. I’m done. You're out of my house by tomorrow.” Matty demands, and with that, he leaves. Slamming the door behind him. 

Bloody footprints lay in a trail behind you, and your socks start slowly becoming sodden from your weeping wounds. But still, you stood there, unmoving. Shock coursing through your veins.

It was all over. Just like that.

////////////////////

The letter was taunting you from the other room, the blacked corner flashed into your mind whenever your eyes finally fluttered close. The image of you burning the letter played behind your eyelids like a movie, and you almost wish you really had done it.

But you didnt, so it still sat on your living room table, torturing you.

Eventually, you drift off to sleep, tears dampen the pillow below your head, but you ignore the thumping in your head and finally let sleep pull you under.

✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀

You know you're dreaming when you're back in that kitchen. But you can't stop it from happening. The hazy filter that covers your surroundings is the only thing assuring you this isn't real, that this isn't all happening again.

Matty stands in front of you just as he had that night, but he looks different. His once frizzy curls sat in perfectly ringlets around his face, the streaks of grey dancing through them more prominent. His unshaven face was now neatly trimmed, and you admired the salt and pepper hairs within it. You can see the tears brimming in his eyes, glittering on his waterline. 

“So you'll forgive me? We can move on?” he says desperately, smiling and moving towards you with tears falling down his cheeks.

You try to speak, but your mouth doesn't move, your lips stay pressed together against your brain's protests. Not even grunts escape you. Silently, you stare at Matty, completely motionless. 

“y/n? You forgive me. I can make this right again, can't I?” Matty begs desperately. He grabs your hand but recoils at the cold feeling on his skin, your fingers cold as ice in his grip.

You fight to speak again, to tell him yes. To tell him you forgive him, that you need to try again. But still, nothing leaves your lips.

Matty scoffs at you, ripping himself away from you, “I can't believe you're ignoring me. I thought you'd be more mature than this. Call me when you can actually have an adult fucking conversation.”

He storms off, but all you can do is watch him helplessly. Every nerve in your body is screaming to move, to chase after him. And you almost do, but some inexplicable force is keeping you there, motionless in the same place where your life ended all those months ago.

So you watch him leave again, the haze surrounding you soon becoming darkness. 

You know it's a dream, and you keep on telling yourself that. But when you wake with wet cheeks and a heaving chest, it feels pretty fucking real.

You swear you can feel him next to you, awake and staring at the same ceiling. But when you turn to see him, the piled-up duvet is all that's there, along with a cold bed beside you.

It's then you decide to finally give in to that voice in your head, the one screaming at you to just read the letter, to get it over and done with. The one begging you to throw it away and never look back is nearly silenced, and it soon becomes nothing but a whisper in the back of your mind.

The letter stays exactly where you left it, and whilst you know it couldn't have moved, part of you wishes it had. With shaking hands, you grab the pile of pages, and you can feel your heart racing the very same way it used to when you saw him.

The city lights shine onto you as you finally open the pages, looking at the handwriting you knew all too well. The same handwriting that used to give you butterflies, that used to detail how much it loved you, filling pages with adoration. 

Now you're not so sure what it entails. But you read anyway, ignoring every screaming signal telling you to stop.

///////////

Hi darling,

I know I don't have the right to call you that anymore, but I can't bring myself to call you anything else. It's been a few months since we've spoken, and I've felt every minute of it. I've filled notebooks writing about you, writing to you. I must have practised this letter a dozen times, and I know this still won't be right. 

So, instead of trying to write the perfect letter, I've ripped out some pages from my journal. My therapist told me to write like I was speaking to you, so that's what I did. I’m sure she would be pissed that im sending this at all, but I need to do this for us. To remember what we once were. 

Anyway, I hope it makes you understand what this time without you has been like for me. You can ignore this letter completely and I wouldn't blame you. I won't hold it over you if you burn it and never look back. But if you do read it, I just need you to know im sorry. For everything.

(3 weeks without you)

To say the past couple of weeks have been hell for me is beyond an understatement. There is this festering part of me that thinks I will love you forever, and the knowledge that we will never be like we once were kills me, but it has to kill me. Because if I felt anything other than agony, I would come crawling back to you, and you don't deserve that. And I know that. But fucking hell, that doesn't make it hurt any less.

You know me, I don't know what it's like to have surface-level emotions. I either feel it all, or I feel nothing. and with you? I fucking felt it all. I felt every touch, every smile, every fight, every screaming match ending in tears. I fucking felt it. and for some reason- I'm still thankful for it. because at least I felt you.

I wonder if you're at the point where you miss me when you hear my name. And I can't help but think about you hearing my songs, do you change the station? Even if they're about you? But if I’m honest, they're all about you. Every one of them. Even before I knew you, they were about you.

(a month and a half)

I wish you could forgive me. I think if I knew you didn't hate me, I could move on. Or maybe it would do the opposite. I don't know. All I do know is, I miss you. 

(2 months)

Sometimes I miss you so much I can't handle it. I go driving and find the places we used to go, I sit there, and I can still hear your laugh. I can feel that all-encompassing warmth that surrounds you. but then someone speaks, or a car horn goes off, and suddenly, it's cold again. I mourn you like you're someone I've lost forever, and in a way, I have.

You know I still feel you every day, everywhere. Because you might have left, but you never really did. I still find your socks down beside the bed, and your hair ties around the house. I accidentally used your shampoo in the shower this week. You know that ridiculous Jasmine one that you pay too much for? 

It was like having you around again, I never thought the small of some shitty shampoo would be the thing that brought it all back to me, brought you back to me. Yet it was. But still, you were gone. 

So apparently, I decided to fall into the breakup trope of crying in the shower. For 45 minutes, which made me feel slightly pathetic. And it didn't help when George knocked on the door and washed my hair again. with my shampoo. But I still find myself smelling jasmine even when it's nowhere near.

You haunt me in ways I never thought possible.

(3 months)

It's 3 a.m., and I can't stop picturing your face. Just knowing you're still out there makes it so much fucking harder. I don't know how to cope knowing you're there and not here, with me. Even months later there's some sick part of me that hopes leaving me was the hardest thing you've had to do. but I hope loving me wasn't. 

I know that's selfish, and that this is all my fault anyway. so I want you to move on, even if it kills me. it's hell thinking that the one person you could never forget is fighting to forget you. 

But I hope you find the love of your life. I hope they make your tea just how you like it, and buy you those crazy expensive candles you love. I hope they will follow you to the ends of the earth, just like I would. even now. 

(3 and a half months)

I want to say you don't know how it feels to miss you, you don't know how hard it is. but I have to keep hoping you miss me just as much. because if you didn't, if you just moved on without a second thought; I couldn't cope. the fact that we will always just be an almost will live with me until the day I die. I don't want you to be an almost. I want you to be an always. but it's over, and I know that. or at least I'm very good at pretending I know that.

(4 months)

Recently, I've been thinking about “what ifs?” Despite my therapist telling me I shouldn't. But you know what it is like after breakups. It's this all-consuming thing, and you can't help but imagine if things were different.

I think in another universe, we worked out. I got over my massive ego, and you worked through your past, and it fixed itself. We got married, had another kid, and got that cat you always wanted. We'd go to Annie's graduation together. Her wedding together. you'd cry as I walked her down the aisle, I'd smile and kiss away your tears. and I know that's not this universe. but fucking hell why can't it be?

(4 and a half months)

My mum misses you. She asked how you were doing today and if I had reached out yet. I got angry at her and stormed out. If only she knew how many times I’d dialled your number and then turned off my phone. Or how many unanswered texts I've sent. 

Annie misses you too, by the way. She's finally stopped asking when you're coming back.

I wish she still asked.

(today)

I don't expect you to read all of this, and if you've just skipped to the end, I don't blame you.

but I'm sending this letter because I think I'm finally at a place where when I think of you, I don't take it as a sign from the universe that we were meant to be together. instead, I think of it as a past life, as proof that we were an almost.

Next time I see you, I hope it doesn't hurt as much as the last time.

Goodbye, my love,

Matty x

///////////

The distinct sound of dripping tears hitting paper was the only noise in the room. You watched helplessly as the ink distorted under the little pools of wetness. A million thoughts race through your mind, and you can't help but fucking hate him for sending this.

How could he do this to you? All you've been doing for months is healing, but he keeps ripping open old wounds carelessly. He has to know you can never go back. You can't trust him.

All you left behind you was a mess. You were both better off this way.

With a scoff, you grab your lighter and cigarettes, stepping onto the balcony with the letter gripped in your shaking hands. You have to flick the lighter a few times before it works, the bitter wind fighting against it. 

But soon the flame comes, you sigh happily, moving it up to the cigarette delicately balanced between your lips. You suck in a deep breath, revelling in the feeling of the smoke filling your lungs. The slight crackle brings you more relaxation than anything else these days, but you still have to fight to ignore the familiarity of the scent.

You flick the lighter again, huffing annoyed as it goes out. Once you see the distinct glow of amber, you don't hesitate before placing it against the paper and watching the pages in front of you burn up.

Ashes sizzle your skin, but you couldn't care less. In fact, you welcome the pain. A sick smile comes across your face, grinning around the now-lit cigarette in your mouth.

Isn't it funny how little words mean, when they're a little too late?

[lukolabrainrot]

So, I just wanted to give some additional thoughts on March-April timeline & Australia. We know L went to LA in March w/ A (possibly a group trip?) and N was off promoting "Big Mood" w/ that cast in tow, including E. Now whether we think N was dating E or not he'd been on her socials singing her praises and was her co-star, as L had been... but he also plays a role on the wildly popular Witcher (w/ hottie Henry Cavill) and is a bad ass fighter on the show, not as soft boy. I'd think it's fair to say that L would naturally have some jealousy surrounding that, esp. if N did nothing to quell his fears, incl. E being at her b-day party earlier in the year, and E going to the "Renegade Nell" premiere with her end of March.

Also, if we take what we think happened after BTON S3 filming as truth - that L had been all in and N put on the brakes - L prob thought he was giving N what she wanted. You wanted me to date other people, so I am! (I'm quite sure N didn't expect him going off the rails with his HBS nor date young dancers but, to me, it makes perfect sense - because he's was dating for fun not true love, cause N is who he feels destined for & wants... in that way, I think he & N are very different. I think N prob thinks you can love many people & L feels there is "the one")

But I digress... in March, L & N are mostly apart but prob still communicating bts & he likes several of her IG posts. By April, they're back on the BTON press tour and w/ the excitement of spending time together in Jan & Feb, they're already havings feelings for each other again. The Netflix interview where they're watching their scenes & commenting stands out to me - when N tears up & L asks if she's ok 🥹 (He also couldn't stop glancing at her breasts lol). L keeps the flirtation going, pinching her butt in the IMBD interview (as you prev. noted), and at the London Call the polaroid is taken. L & N are "back on" but, also as you noted, L had already taken the InStyle polaroids back in March, perhaps half trying to appease A, half guarding against N's rejection once again.

Then Lukola lands in Australia end of April - they comment on how relaxed it is and secluded being half way around the world. In interviews they talk about how never getting annoyed w/ each other, N makes several comments w/sexual innuendo and says L smells good. They are asked to walk together in a video and L jokes "no, it's too much time", indicating the opposite. They do several photoshoots & L starts playing bodyguard- the crowds are enormous & he's always looking for N. In turn, N starts getting kind eyes w/ L. They mention going to dinner and are seen drinking champagne at the screening... I'm of the opinion, maybe something happened down under, while they were Down Under!

It's the start of the tour & they're already getting questioned about being a couple so they state in an interview they aren't dating & are friends. (Note: they don't say just friends but friends so there is no lie). Then, the Instyle piece comes out on April 29 - after this lovely time in Australia (and perhaps intimacy?), it's like a gut punch to N. On May 2, she posts "Kaleidoscope" by Chappell Roan, which talks about crossing the line but not making that person stay & going back to friends if that person changes their mind. People always say this is a sad song. And I do believe the Instyle stunt was hurtful to N but I also believe N is fighting for L here. The song also says "And if you ever find someone who could write a better song for you well I'd love to see them try...

Imo, N needed to fight for L after being the one who wanted to separate (if true, ofc). I can see L doing the Instyle stunt out of self-protection, not knowing where he stood with N... and this is why one could see the tension in Italy, which came right after all of this. But we also see it resolve, with them presumably getting on the same page. I can see it being like when Pen said to Colin that if he wanted an annulment she understood and Colin replied, in essence, that he loves her and she's not going anywhere... I can also see L not wanting N to go anywhere.

Now, what happened from Italy-on, there are many theories, but because of how remote Australia was and the conflict resolution thereafter, I'm becoming an Australia truther!

#justanopinion #downunder #Lukolalove

Don't agree with everything, but some interesting theories/things I haven't thought about before.

What do other people think?

[gunsatthaphan]

~ Monthly BL Breakdown: February 2024 ~ 

🌱 Happy March!!! 🌷

Disclaimer: ALL shows can be streamed here or here, as well as on Youtube and other platforms. For more info on where to watch what, check out this post! 

New breakdowns are coming at the end of every month - feel free to add stuff! -> previous breakdowns

What came out this month? (green = seen/currently watching)

🌟 Anti Reset - February 2nd (Taiwan)

🌟 Love Syndrome: The Beginning - February 8th (Thailand)

🌟 Baka Pwede pa? - February 9th (Philippines)

🌟 War of Y: The Reunion (special episode) - February 10th (Thailand)

🌟 1000 Years Old - February 14th (Thailand)

🌟 My Strawberry Film - February 16th (Japan)

🌟 A Secret Love - February 17th (Thailand)

🌟 To Be Continued - February 19th (Thailand)

🌟 Unknown - February 24th (Taiwan)

🌟 Wedding Impossible - February 26th (South Korea)

🌟 Kiseki Chapter 1 & Chapter 2 - February TBA (Thailand)

🌟 Ambiguous - February TBA (South Korea)

Monthly likes/dislikes

❣️ I'm gonna have to list Cherry Magic and Cooking Crush again just because they filled me with so much serotonin lol. Truly beautiful productions, so carefully written, so well executed and with so much wholesomeness and so many green flags lol. I had the best time watching them and the fact that 2 OG pairs had comeback shows back to back gave me so much nostalgia lol, especially since the genre is reminiscent of their old shows. It's been a blissful and therapeutic few months and I'm extremely sad that it's over 😩🥺🫶🏻 A+ content from everyone involved. 12/10 for both.

👎🏻 It has been a year lmao a lot of things happened this month, the Pawin situation makes me sad, we don't know what actually happened but the whole thing is messed up either way. James dropping out of LUAT came as a surprise as well, I'm not a NetJames fan but if they really had a falling out like the rumors say then that's sad. Singto coming back to gmm has been a nice surprise amongst the scandals lol but other than that I hope things go uphill after this 🥺

New series & movie announcements

🎥 My Bias is Showing (manwha adaption) - Date TBA (South Korea)

🎥 All About Lust - Date TBA (South Korea)

🎥 A Balloon's Landing - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 Roommates - Date TBA (South Korea)

🎥 Good Night to Get Drunk - Date TBA (South Korea)

🎥 First Note of Love - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 Living With Him - Coming April 11th (Japan)

🎥 The Young Gangster - Coming 2025 (Taiwan)

Other news from the BL world

❗️ Actor Singto Prachaya has returned to GMMTV as an artist. He previously left the company in 2021 to work as a freelance actor & producer after being under contract for nearly 5 years. It is unknown whether he will be part of any projects of the 2024 lineup.

❗️ The Thai BL Playboyy is getting a second season.

❗️ The upcoming Korean series High School Return of a Gangster announced the removal of the original BL plot. The show will air as a censored version, focusing on the friendship between the male leads.

❗️ Actors Charles Tu (HIStory 4) and Michael Chang (My Tooth Your Love) were confirmed to star in the upcoming BL First Note of Love. The series tells the story of a musician who is struggling with stage fright and one of his fans. An air date has not been announced.

❗️ Actor Non Ratchanon will no longer partake in the upcoming BL Live in Love. In an official statement, the production company stated that the decision was made due to disagreements between his agency and the one representing his co-star Hearth Chindanai. A recast for his role has yet to be announced.

❗️ GMMTV actor Win Pawin was accused of physically assaulting his ex-girlfriend, who made public allegations with photo evidence of her wounds. As a result GMMTV released a statement announcing the suspension of Pawin from all further work activities until legal investigations are complete. This lead to him making a public statement saying he is withdrawing from the upcoming BL We Are. He was cast as one of the 8 protagonists and was paired with his former partner Marc Pahun. GMMTV released a followup statement today, announcing Pawin's character would be recast to newbie Poon Mitpakdee.

❗️ Actor James Supamongkon announced his withdrawal from the upcoming Domundi BL Love Upon a Time. He released a statement on Twitter, saying he wants to expand his career and focus on other projects as an artist apart from acting. The company stated that Net and the others will stay part of the cast and that a new partner for Net will be cast shortly. This caused a big uproar amongst the fans who have been waiting for the series since it was announced over a year ago. Whether James' dropping out has anything to do with a dispute between him and Net is not confirmed.

Upcoming series & movies for March

👉🏻 Love is Better the Second Time Around - March 5th (Japan)

👉🏻 Deep Night - March 7th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Two Worlds - March 21st (Thailand)

👉🏻 High Demand - March 23rd (Thailand)

👉🏻 Wuju Bakery - March TBA (Thailand)

👉🏻 The Star - Date TBA (Thailand)

👉🏻 Blossom Campus - March TBA (South Korea)

👉🏻 Jazz for Two - March TBA (South Korea)

[sarahsmi13s]

You Better Not Die

(not my gif)

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x actress!reader

characters: jake seresin, fem!reader, the dagger squad (mentioned), beau simpson, jake’s parents

warnings: mostly fluff, flashbacks, dogfighting, i believe that’s all

word count: ~3.7k 

a/n: the poll has spoken, i will be posting the others in the days to come 

also, i know the title is dramatic but trust me it makes since lol

quick summary: you’re an actress that ran into jake when your career first started

**********

Hangman’s favorite show is NCIS. Seriously, theman is obsessed with the show. I mean he watched NCIS with his parents growing up, so when he left to join the Navy that was how he felt close to them.

When Jake met you, you were just starting your career in acting and he was going to TOP GUN.

You had been visiting your uncle, as you were staying with him while you auditioned for TV shows and movies, when Hangman had quite literally ran into you.

*********

Jake walked out of the base gym, shirt off and towel around his neck. He was just whistling as he walked to the locker room, not seeing you as you rounded the corner.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” you apologized immediately.

He looked at you, brow raised. He originally planned to just snap at you, tell you to watch where you were going but your sweet voice made him stop.

He made eye contact and his brain fogged over for a second. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, that’s my bad.” He shook his head, “Neither was I, Sweetheart.” His eyes scanned you, making you blush. “I definitely would have noticed you.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle leaving your mouth, but Jake didn’t want you to. That was one of the prettiest sounds he’d ever heard.

He glanced around and back to you, noting the fact you were wearing civvies. He also watched the way your eyes darted back and forth as you also looked around.

“You seem lost.” You chuckled, scratching the back of your neck, “Uh, yeah, I’m looking for my-”

“Y/N,” a voice called from down the hall. Both you and Jake turned to see who the voice belonged to.

His eyes widened and he looked down at you, seeing a smile break out across your face. He wasn’t sure why he had butterflies in his chest - What am I? A 15 year-old girl? - but he knew one thing, that he wanted to see that smile directed at him.

He dreaded the words that were about to come out of your mouth. Praying that they weren’t what he thought they were.

“Uncle Beau!”

Whew!

Jake visibly relaxed, at least Cyclone wasn’t your father. I mean he was your uncle, but father is much more threatening.

He could work with uncle.

“Lieutenant Seresin? Class ended early today, what are you still doing here?” Cyclone asked when he approached the two of you. “It was still early in the day, sir. Work doesn’t stop for a little bit of rain.” Cyclone just nodded at him, appreciating his work ethic.

Cyclone turned to you, “How’d it go?” You nodded, “Pretty good. I just need to wait for call backs.” He smiled, “I’m sure you did great. Now let’s go, I’m starving.” You nodded, “Lead the way.” Beau nodded and walked ahead of you.

Hangman tilted his head and looked confused. “I don’t want to call you ‘Lieutenant’ next time I see you. Got a name to go along with those rippling pectorals?” Jake couldn’t help but to mirror your smirk and flex just a little bit.

He was glad that his chest and face were still red from his work out, it hid the flush very well. “Hangman-” He chuckled at your unamused face. “But, I let pretty ladies call me Jake.” You nodded, smiling, “Jake Seresin.” He had to swallow the groan when he heard you say his full name. You said it dreamily and it sounded heavenly to him.

“Y/N-” Cyclone peeked his head around the wall and saw you both still talking. He shook his head and marched to you.

He grabbed your wrist, “Nope.” He looked at Jake, “Hangman, no.” He pulled you down the hall and you waved to Jake, a beaming smile thrown in his direction.

He watched you disappear around the corner before smiling to himself.

“Hangman, yes.”

**************

That was 7 years ago and you and Hangman were engaged.

He had been called back for the Uranium mission back in May and that was when you were filming for a show you didn’t tell Jake the name of.

The crew met you when they got back. Not believing for a second that Jake had a famous actor as a fiancé.

Needless to say they were surprised.

Fanboy actually recognized you. It was cool.

Especially when a few months later he was texting you about the fact you were in She-Hulk.

Jake was so proud of you and how far you’ve come in your career, you being equally as proud of him and his accomplishments. He bragged about you like he bragged about himself.

He watched everything you were in, even if critics said it was bad.

If you had to do research for a role, he was right there helping and taking notes. He worked lines with you when he could. Sometimes he went with you to set, if he had the time, loving to watch you in action.

Unless it was a kiss or sex scene, then he just went to your trailer. One time though, your costar wasn’t feeling great and didn’t want to get you sick, it was a make out scene and Jake looked close enough to the costar that he just filled in for the kiss

*******

That all leads to now.

It has been about five months since the mission and the squad took up instructing positions at TOP GUN.

Currently it was raining, which meant no one could be in the air. But that didn’t stop Jake from waking you up before the sunrise to go to the gym with him.

Not that he thought you needed to, he just hated working out alone. And you gave him perfect motivation.

When you got home, you made Jake carry you from the truck to the house, it was the least he could do.

Using the bottom of your shirt, you wiped the mixture of sweat and ran from your face. “I’m in dire need of a shower,” you said, grabbing waffles from the freezer as an after workout snack.

Jake slid up behind you as you waited for you at the toaster. “Me too. Why don’t you say we clean two birds with one stone?” You turned to him, “Did you just say ‘clean two birds’?” “I did.” “Were you trying to be clever?”

A teasing smirk played on your lips and Jake just looked at you unamused, “You wound me. You know that? You really wound me.” You pouted, “I’m sorry, Baby. Let me make it up to you.” You pulled him down by his dog tags for a kiss.

He groaned into your mouth and pressed you against the counter, causing you to giggle into his mouth. His hands pulled at your workout clothes to get you closer to his torso. The sweaty fabric was pulled free from your skin, causing you to shiver as the AC cooled the soaked fabric.

You were so deep into this makeout session that you forgot about your waffles.

Yelping when the toaster popped up behind you, you pulled away from Jake. Jake had also flinched, more so at your yelp than the toaster.

You slapped his chest when he laughed at you and turned to get your waffles.

He leaned forward to take a bite of one, but you pulled it away, shaking your head. Taking a bite you poked his chest, “Get your own snack!” He jutted his bottom lip out, before smirking.

You rose a brow, “I don’t like that look.” Hangman laughed and picked you up by your thighs, hoisting you over his shoulder, making you sit your waffles on the countertop. “Jacob Glen, what do you think you’re doing?” He laughed again, “I found my snack.” He playfully bit your thigh before walking to the living room.

You smacked his butt, “Jake, put me down! I need to eat and then shower, I’ve got meetings today!” He stopped, grabbed your hips and placed you back on your feet.

“You do? It’s Monday, I thought you didn’t have meetings on Mondays?” You sighed, “I don’t, usually, but something came up on someone’s schedule and we had to move it up. I forgot to tell you, I’m sorry.” He shook his head, “It’s okay, Darlin’. I get it. But…” He felt like a child for what he was about to ask.

“Will you be back in time for the premiere of the new season of NCIS?” You bit your lip and grabbed his hands, “I wish I could give you an answer, Baby. But I don’t know, I’m sorry.” He nodded and looked down, again feeling like a child.

Jake was really looking forward to watching it with you. It was a Seresin tradition to huddle in the family room, order take out of some kind (usually pizza) and start the season together.

“I know how much it means to you. I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure those meetings go as planned and are on time. I might break some traffic laws.” Jake laughed, making you smile. He shook his head, “You don’t have to break traffic laws, just text me if anything has to change.”

He gestured to the tv, “It’s set to record and we can just watch it when you get here.”

You shook your head, “You hate breaking tradition…” Jake squeezed your hands, “I’d break every tradition for you.” You kissed his knuckles and giggled.

He chuckled, “What?” “If I told the squad the big bad Hangman was so down bad for his girlfriend that he’s willing to wait to watch a tv show, they’d laugh in my face.” He laughed, throwing his head back as he pulled you to him, “I don’t know about that. They know how much I love you.” He kissed the top of your head, “And how proud I am of you.”

Smiling, you leaned your head back, “I think you earned yourself a waffle, Lieutenant.”

********

After your shower you had a little bit of time to kill. So you cleaned while your hair air-dried and then got ready for your meeting before being out the door.

Hangman had to busy himself. He did laundry, went through all the items that were meticulously organized and wrote down what you were low on.

He actually started to pre-plan for the wedding, considering you had been too busy to actually start. Jake looked at venues, caterers, you know the broader things he knew you would be more likely to come to an agreement on. He knew how picky you were. One thing he knew you for sure wanted was a fall wedding.

Eventually it was nearing the time for the new episode to air, and he was anxious.

You haven't messaged except to tell him how the meetings had gone. Some had actually not taken as long as you thought. So everything was looking like you’d be home with time to spare.

Then you called.

Jake picked up immediately, “Hey, everything okay?” “Yeah, I’m on my way home. But the traffic is really bad right now. I’m looking at like another hour, maybe two.” Jake checked the time, it was 5 o’clock, the show aired at 7.

“That’s okay, it starts at 7. If it starts before you get home I’ll just pause it.” You sighed, with a little pained grunt at the end. You were definitely in need of a massage. “I’ll call you when I get close to the house.” “Alright, drive safe. I love you.” “I love you too, Jakey. See you when I get home.”

******

Two hours later, Jake had the TV paused as he waited for you in the kitchen.

He quickly called you, just to check on you.

“Jake, I’m sorry, I meant to call you.” “It’s okay, Sweetheart. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.” “Yeah, everything’s good. I actually put in an order for pizza. I’m going to pick it up right now, shouldn’t take me too long. If you want to go ahead and start it, you can just tell me what happens when I get home.”

Jake bit his lip, “Are you sure?” “Yes, Darlin’, I’m sure.” He smiled at the small twang in your voice that you picked up from being around him for so long. “Okay, see you in a little bit.” “See you in a minute, I love you.” “I love you too.”

Jake went to the living room, beer in hand and phone opening Pinterest. You made him download it after you found hundreds of screenshots of random projects in his gallery.

Anyway, he sat down on the couch and unpaused the TV, watching the opening scene. It was generally the same formula: random citizen finds the dead body of a naval officer or a marine, or something along those lines. Then the opening credits.

This time, it was a naval aviator: Lieutenant Theodore Ackley; call sign “Teddy”. Hangman chuckled as he sipped his beer, “And I made fun of Bob…”

He scrolled through his phone, not bothering to watch the opening credits; they were the same every time.

Jake reclined as commercials followed right after, planning to pause it once the show came back on. He also kept an ear out for the sound of you pulling in, that way he could meet you at the door.

He glanced up from his scrolling when he heard the distinct sound of the show returning. He reached for the remote to pause it, but he stopped when the screen filled with the tell-tale signs of a cinematic flashback.

It was of pilots in a dogfight.

Hangman knew he should have paused it, but something drew his attention in. He wanted to listen to make sure they got details right, made sure it was as accurate as a show could make it.

“Teddy! Teddy! I need some assistance over here!” Jake’s ear perked up, that voice was so familiar but it was somewhat muffled by the mask. 

“Athena! Athena! He’s on our tail!” The distinct down of a missile lock rang out. “Shit! They’ve got a lock! Hawk-” “Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air!” “Deploy flares!”

Jake needed to pause it, he really did. Not just for you, but for him, this was getting a little much. A little too accurate. But it was like a car wreck, he just couldn’t look away.

Flares got deployed. But he was firing guns quickly. “We took a hit!” “Shit!”

The planes dipped and dodge, breaking left and right. “We can’t shake this guy! Teddy, where are you!?” “I’m coming, Athena!” Hawk’s voice came over. “He got a lock again!” “Smoke Athena!” Hawk called out and hit the flares.

Nothing. They were out of flares, they had been out of missiles for a bit having shot down two others already. Athena turned to her backseater, “Hawk?” “We’re out of flares, A!” “‘thena, evade!” She tried her best, but as she did, her engine went out. They were hit.

And that’s when the nightmare stopped, a figure shooting up in their bed - well, off the floor.

That’s when Jake paused it. Mainly because the character on the screen; hair disheveled, chest heaving, wide, tear-lined eyes, and dog tags hanging from her neck, was you.

He was completely surprised. You hadn’t said a word to him about being in this episode, or about being on the show period. But he was proud of you.

He was so enveloped in the screen that he hadn’t heard you pull in or come inside.

“Jake? Baby?” You kick off your heels, making a mental note to pick them up later. “Jake?” You have an arm full of pizza and your purse is slipping from your shoulder.

You glanced to the couch seeing him leaned forward, looking at the screen. “Jacob, I could really use some assistance.” He didn’t respond. You took a glance at the TV and saw your face. You sighed and chuckled as you made your way to the island and sat your purse down along with the pizza boxes.

You padded over and sat down, making Jake look at you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted to surprise you.” He laughed, hugging you tightly, “Consider me surprised, Honey. I’m so proud of you.” You smiled, kissing his neck before resting your chin on his shoulder. “Thank you, Jake.” He pulled back and kissed your nose.

Gently, he pulled you up and shoved you to the bedroom as he moved to the kitchen. “Go get comfy and I’ll fix our plates.”

******

“No, no, no, what are you doing?!” Jake bolted to sit up on the couch.

Currently, your character was holstering her weapon and stepping to the suspect. “Rosemary, if you want justice for your brother… You need to kill me.” The girl on screen shook her head pointing the gun at the pilot in her grasp that was in Athena’s previous squad.

“No, she doesn’t need to do that.” You chuckled and sipped your soda. “Jake, just watch the show.” He looked at you, “I can’t ‘just watch the show’. I will be so upset if you die.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed your slice of pizza.

“No, ‘thena… I could never kill you. You were Charlie’s best friend.” “I was also his pilot. I was supposed to keep him safe and bring him back to you. It was my responsibility.” “You weren’t even supposed to be on that mission, Athena,” the hostage choked out. “If I hadn’t buzzed the tower, I would have been in the sky, not you and Hawk.”

Athena gave him a pointed look, and he shut up.

“Rose-” “No! Harper, I can’t kill you, I don’t blame you. Charlie wouldn’t want me to do that…” “But he would want you to kill and blame others?”

Rose bit her lip, “Lieutenant Ackley should have been there… Lieutenant Cole should have been there!” Your character nodded, “I know, but I don’t blame them. They couldn’t have done anything. I should have been better, the one time I got in my own head, it got your brother killed. I’m so sorry, Rose.”

Rose turned the gun on your character and let Cole go.

Jake grabbed your hand, “I swear, Y/N-” “Just watch, Jake.”

Harper pressed her head into the barrel, “Do it. Get justice for Charlie.” The camera focused on Rose moving her finger to the trigger, making Jake hold his breath.

“I can’t…” She dropped the gun and then fell to her knees. Jake placed a hand over his heart and let out the breath. “You’re so dramatic.”

Your character kicked the gun away and embraced the girl, comforting her before ultimately arresting her.

After some closing scenes and a heartfelt moment between Harper and the team, the credits rolled.

“Don’t do that to me,” Jake said, serious in his expression but playful in his tone. “But seriously, that was so awesome. I’m so damn proud of you.” He hugged you and laid you back on the cushions of the couch. He rested his head on your stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair, “Thank you, Honey. I’m glad you think so. I worked really hard to try and play this character as accurately as possible. I hope I did it justice.” 

He nodded against your belly, “I think you did more than that. You work so hard for every role you play, and this one was no different. I can’t wait to see what you do with her in future episodes.” 

You rose a brow and stopped moving your hand, “What makes you think she’s in more episodes?”

Jake pushed himself up, “Because she’s a badass and a character with depth, she actually reminds me of Maverick, which I feel was intentional, not the point. And- And! She is going to be loved by the fans.” “Well I’m glad you feel that way. My biggest fan right here.” He smirked and kissed you, rumbling out a “Don’t you forget it” when he pulled away.

As he laid himself back on your stomach, his phone rang with a face time from his mom. “Who is it?” “Your mom.” 

You answered it, smiling at your mother-in-law, “Hi, Bonnie!” “Oh, Y/N, Darlin’ hi!” “Thanks Ma, I’m here too.” “Oh Jacob hush,” she said, a teasing smirk on her face.

“I just wanted to call and talk about the latest episode. We just finished it, and might I say it was great!” Jake smiled, “You’re tellin’ me. I loved it.” “Oh, and Y/N, sweetie, you did so good! You’re so talented!” “Thank you, Bonnie.”

She sighed, “I let it slide earlier, but Sweetheart you have been in our family for seven years now and will be in it for more to come, you can call me ‘Ma’.” Jake watched the heat tint your cheeks pink as you corrected yourself, “Thank you, Ma.” “That’s better.”

Bonnie continued to talk about the episode with you, even getting into how it was to work with your co-stars. Jake just watched, content with seeing you so happy.

“Well, John and I are so proud of you Y/N. We’ve got to be up for work tomorrow, so I better head to bed, John’s already asleep.” “I thought I could hear him snoring in the background,” Jake spoke up after being quiet for a few minutes. “Oh, Jake, I thought you fell asleep too,” Bonnie laughed on the other end. “No ma’am, just listening to my girl being passionate about her job.” She smiled at her son. “Well, I better head to bed. Goodnight sweethearts, love you!” “Love you too Ma,” you both said, biding her a goodnight and hanging up.

Jake nuzzled himself into your shoulder this time, but pulled back when he heard you sniffle.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He brought his hand up to hold your face.

You chuckled, smiling as you shook your head. “Nothing, it’s just,” you laughed again. “I have so much support and it means so much to me. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without you. You have stood by me through every audition, good or bad. Through every hate comment and sexist interviewer. You, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, have been by my side throughout all of it.”

He smiled and brought your left hand to his lips, kissing your engagement ring, “And I plan to keep it that way.” You smiled, using your combined hands to tilt his face to kiss him, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

************

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!

thank you to those that voted for this story and i will be posting the others in the days to come

if you want more polls for the ‘x reader’s that are just chilling in my docs let me know or if you have any requests for more fics please do so!!

love you guys <33

top gun tags <3: @milesdickpic​ @luckyladycreator2​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @sebsxphia​

thank you guys for being here! i love you *mwah*

[reigen-small-naturals]

aight let's go

timeline of laz1's diamond and lykn's lego (with a celebrity cameo (it's daou, daou is a celebrity cameo))

jan 30: somebody asks mond how would he feel if lykn's william would come to his live. diamond says he would thank him, and talks about lego being cute.

after that they would occasionally comment under each other's tiktoks and also diamond likes a tiktok about their interactions

march 4th: lego posts a tiktok to a song by boss and diamond. the lyrics of the song are like 'you stole my heart where did you go'. diamond comments "where did you end up going", and lego answers "come and i'll tell you".

that same day diamond streams and lego comments on his live. here is a supercut of everybody in the chat telling him that lego is watching and mond not believing them but scrolling a lot to find The Legomments. the legomments in question are: asking mond about his hairstyle, apologizing for not being verified and laughing at the situation

diamond in turn apologizes for the situation on twt and lego laughs at it again

march 18th: lego posts a tiktok to hit me up and diamond comments

june 10th: fans talk to diamond and they start teasing him about lego. they ask him if they met already ("no not yet") and does he want to meet him ("where is he?")

june 14th: lego QRTs that video and laughs that if diamond wants to meet up he could've just say so

june 16th: there is no other way to phrase this: diamond is Shooting His Shot.

and now. ladies and gentlemen.

the stream

not even describing it, just watch the videos. it's so!

after lego left the stream, we have our celebrity cameo: khun Daou Pittaya himself jumps on diamond's stream to tease him and call him out for the flirting

june 21st:

june 30th: it's the day they meet on the bondbond festival. but first, lego tweets this and they chat a bit.

the first tweet says 'i didn't take any pictures, this is all i have, i love phis, i don't want to be just a nong' and it can be related to mond bcs diamond posted a tiktok with lego to the song 'brother zone' by bus7, and the lyrics of the song are, well, about phinonging lol

here are behind the scenes of that tiktok

they also filmed a trust me challenge

july 3: diamond's mom reposts a ship video of them. ANYWAY

july 26: diamond comments this:

and lego answers with a selfie and a song, here are the song's lyrics

september 11: goodnight to lego from diamond

september 12: cat to diamond from lego

also we have another celebrity cameo: joong archen liked a post about diamond's comment

this timeline is last updated on 2024/09/17, anyway there is that!

[cass-the-mess]

Was it Real?

Vikhor "Stitch" Kuzmin x Bell!Reader SMUT 18+ MDNI

Photo cred: @pricescigar

A/N: This has been brewing in my drafts since MARCH lol, and I suddenly felt the urge to finish it today so I hope you guys enjoy it!

Synopsis: Bell manages to break out of Adler's mind control early on in the game. She infiltrates the KGB to hopefully reconnect with the current leader of Perseus himself Stitch, angst ensues, old feelings emerge, betrayal happens, they deal with it in the most reasonable way: Shmex :)

CW: Dark themes, dubious content, SMUT, office sex, ex-lovers to enemies to lovers? Stitch is a bad guy ish, possessive sex, degrading, PWP, canon typical violence (this is COD) but not the main theme of this, they're in love but it's complicated because she's a double agent, not really a happy ending but also not a sad ending.

P.S. this one is dedicated to @stararch4ngelqueen because she's great and she makes me wanna keep writing so :)

P.P.S. Dialogue in Italics are flashbacks, dialogues in bold are russian.

You see him right away when you turn the corner of the hallway, his imposing form walking out of the elevator surrounded by some of his most trusted men. The silvery scar tissue cutting through the left side of his face and into his eye adding onto the threatening aura around him.

You remember him, you remember the relationship you had with him before you got taken away and had all of your memories jumbled and carefully rearranged to fit into the narrative the Americans wanted you to be a part of.

Vikhor Kuzmin aka “Stitch”, current leader of Perseus, your mentor, the man who had taught you everything you knew. The man who had made you into the woman you were. That woman was long gone, that thought angered you. You had no loyalties to the American cause, nor to the men who you were currently working for.

Your loyalty to Russell Adler, the leader of this operation, was especially treacherous. You knew what he did to you, the lengths he had taken to turn you against the very people who had built you from the ground up, whatever charade you were currently playing by “helping” him sneak into the KGB to recover intel, was about to end. Sooner rather than later.

You watch intently through the shaded glass of the door you’re hiding behind as Stitch walks through the empty corridor, the armed men at his side posting themselves at strategic points in the hallway as he continues to make his way through the space, not sparing them a second glance, his patterned eyes ice cold and constantly searching and analyzing. The hood covering his head as well as the mask obscuring the bottom half of his face keeping his true emotions from shining through.

Your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him, you didn’t know where you stood with him anymore, you knew just how important Perseus’ cause was to him, and how loyal to it he was. You doubted he’d ever forgive you, no matter the circumstances surrounding your disappearance, people didn’t just leave Perseus, and if they did, they were found and dealt with. You knew because that was your job, the executioner. The shadow of death, you were the last thing traitors saw before the light left their eyes.

At one point in time, you were his most trusted advisor, his right hand, his friend. You’d spent countless hours with him, the both of you planning, scheming, organizing, a myriad of different operations to spread your influence through the western countries. Most of which had greatly succeeded, you were always five steps ahead of the Americans.

You don’t know when exactly it changed, when your relationship with the stoic, brutal man, changed. When you became something more, when he started looking at you with a glint in his eyes, when his face relaxed a little when it was just the two of you in the same room, or when he started removing his mask around you. Exposing the gnarled, scarred skin of his face to you, letting you see just how truly broken he was.

But you didn’t think he was broken, you saw a man that had overcome challenge after challenge, continuously coming out on top and never giving up. Your respect for him grew, as did your heart. Butterflies swarming your abdomen whenever he looked your way, not needing to say a single word to you, his eyes always speaking so loud in the silence of the room.

Then he started smiling at you, not a full-blown smile, you didn’t think the man was even capable of such a feat, but a small, subtle quirk of his lips. So small you thought you’d imagined it at first. A fleeting curve of his full lips towards you, gone as fast as it had appeared. The memory makes you blush slightly in the dark space of the office you’re hiding in, chewing at your lips anxiously as you wait for him to dispatch the men around him, giving you an opening to talk to him. Hoping your connection plays in your favour, hoping the man won’t shoot you where you stand, knowing that he would, knowing that he should.

Afterall, you’d not only betrayed your cause, but you’d also betrayed him. That realization had weighed heavy on your shoulders ever since you woke up from whatever trance Adler had you in, all of your memories coming back to you in painful bursts, flashes of images blinding you as they assaulted your brain. The pain you had felt as each memory hit you, still sizzling inside you, causing a shiver to trail up your spine.

You take a steadying breath as you watch him through the tinted window, his white, scarred eye, glinting under the artificial light emanating from the fixtures above him. You’d asked him once if he could still see out of that eye, out of curiosity, but also because he seemed to see everything, all the time. Nothing ever escaped him, you wondered how he was able to be so alert with half his vision gone.

“I see.” Had been his curt answer, not giving you anymore detail than that, leaving you to speculate in silence about it, you found it unlikely that his vision had remained intact after taking a knife to the eye, though you supposed miracle stories could happen and he might’ve just been very lucky.

What had surprised you the most though, was weeks later, when you and him had been working together late one night, both absorbed in your respective tasks, you weren’t really paying attention to him, too preoccupied with finishing your own paperwork. He was though, you’d come to learn that he always was, his eyes always straying back to you, no matter how many times he tried to scold himself. You remember it like it was just yesterday, the scene playing out in your mind like a movie. That had been the start of something that meant so much more.

“it’s colour. I can’t see colour.” He’d said suddenly, his voice gruff from lack of use, the heavy Russian accent wrapping clumsily around the syllables of each word, startling you out of your state of deep concentration and forcing you to look up at him, your mouth agape at his sudden answer. The dim, amber lighting of the light above you, bouncing off the discoloured surface of his eye as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze.

“I- is it, weird…? Seeing colour with one eye and not with the other?” You’d replied to him after a beat, your voice coming out unsure as you took a hesitant step towards him, his two-tone eyes following your every movement like a hawk.

He’d never really given you a clear answer, his shoulders lifting in a shrug before dropping his gaze from yours and going back to his work, pensive look on his face as he continued to meticulously organize the papers before him. You didn’t blame him for not answering, hell, the fact that he even talked to you in complete sentences was something to marvel at. Considering he usually only interacted with his men, and even then, he would only really bark orders at them before dismissing them.

He tried though, you could tell he did, his English was choppy at best when he tried to talk to you, sometimes jumping back and forth to Russian when he couldn’t find his words. You’d started to learn Russian that way, and he started to learn English. It was beautiful really, now that you thought about it, he would teach you words in Russian, and you’d teach him the same words in English. He’d get frustrated when trying to pronounce some words and you’d giggle in your sleeve as he grew more and more flustered, the tips of his ears growing red with embarrassment until he huffed out a curse and gave up.

Your throat grows tight at the memory, eyes starting to sting with unshed tears as emotion threatens to overtake you, he was a complicated, brutal man, and yet he was so patient and gentle with you when you were together, his naturally gruff voice growing softer when he spoke to you. It hadn’t always been that way, of course, at first, he dismissed you as just another body in the sea of men he had to direct, not giving you his time of day, and barking orders your way the same way he would the rest of the men.

But then you’d started to make your mark, your work within the organization gaining more and more recognition from your peers, whispers growing and growing until they became a loud roaring in each room you would walk into, eyes tracking your every breath. Soldiers hanging onto your every word like they were prophecy.

He noticed, like he always did, way before everyone else did. Taking matters into his own hands and tracking your progress, reviewing everything you did himself before approving it to be passed down the chain of command, reeling in the few men who thought acting like dogs would get them anywhere but six feet deep with a bullet between their eyes. And so, the whispers started to change, echoes of Perseus’ executioner leaking from the cracks in the walls, men thrice your size averting their gaze when you walked by, in fear of angering their leader, knowing him as the type of man to not make threats, only promises.

He would seek your advice more often, confiding in you and asking your opinion on certain aspects of operations he wanted to greenlight. You’d been privy to the birth of many successful missions, a lot of which you’d tweaked and reworked under his careful guidance, the subtle glint in his eyes growing more and more every time you managed to surprise him, the pride in his voice unmistakable when those plans came to fruition.

One of those nights after a successful mission, he’d finally kissed you, it happened out of nowhere and even he seemed surprised about it. He’d been watching you all night from across the room, ice cold eyes trailing after you as you mingled with men unworthy of your attention, men who had no idea just exactly who they were talking to. His own thoughts surprised him, the sudden possessiveness coursing through his veins startling him and causing him to stiffen up in the corner of the room he was standing in, the men attempting to congratulate him on yet another successful operation immediately backing up at the sight of their leader so wound up.

You weren’t paying attention, not really, the sudden peak in popularity you were going through quite hard to digest at that time, going from “just another body” to Perseus’ Executioner was already taking its toll on you. So when a harsh slap resounded from across the room, startling everyone into silence, you took a second to understand what the buzz was about, your Russian at the time not as fluent as it was now, add to the fact that your brain was fuzzy from the effects of the alcohol you were drinking, the only words you caught amongst the whispers of the room currently staring in muted fear at their leader were “fucking mongrel” and “kill you where you stand.”

He'd stormed out after that, his anger palpable in the now silent room, the man victim of his wrath left to lick his wounds on the carpeted floor of the decorated conference room you were all left standing in, he wasn’t one for parties to begin with, he’d told you as much during one of your many late night conversations, social gatherings made him feel uneasy, especially when they served no purpose.

The remaining guests had slowly started to leave after that, some of them throwing you a questioning look as they walked out, forcing a frown to form on your face, sure you were still considered an outsider to this whole operation but you’d been with this team for months now, your work was paving the way for generations to come, Stitch was the first one to back that statement, his trust in you unwavering.

With that in mind, you decided to follow after him, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible in your endeavours as the fuzziness in your brain started to dissipate from the alcohol you’d been indulging in earlier. His usual hangout place in the late hours of the evening tended to be in a room adjacent to his office, he used it for multiple different purposes, and right now, that room held most, if not all, of your joint findings for future operations. You decided to check there first.

You found him hunched over one of the tables, a piece of paper crumpled in his large fist, his shoulders heaving under the thick charcoal material of his jacket, the hood covering his head doing little to conceal the man’s current emotional state. You took a hesitant step forward, not wanting to startle, or anger him further in the state he was in.

“Vik…?” You’d called softly, the nickname somewhat new and foreign to you, but you’d taken to calling him that when it was just the two of you alone, his alias always felt wrong to say, you were never quite able to put a finger on why exactly you felt that way about him, but when he’d given you his real name after countless nights spent working with you, you’d decided to go with it, accepting the gesture as what you could only imagine meant something far greater to him.

He never did answer you, his hooded head shaking back and forth in the confines of the room, the flickering light above you doing very little in terms of actual lighting, mostly casting shadows on every corner of the room, illuminating his figure but not highlighting any of his features.

He was mumbling something under his breath, the heavy notes of Russian syllables registering in your mind and forcing you to get closer to him in an effort to understand his tense ramblings. He’d heard you for sure, but he was probably too far into his own head to really acknowledge you at this point.

You took another hesitant step forward, coming to a stop next to him, his words sounding clearer now that you were next to him, but your brain still couldn’t find the right associations at that moment, too overwhelmed with the events of that day to make sense of it all.

“Vik- Can you slow down? I can’t make out what-“

He’d turned around then, his bright eyes pinning you in place, his right eye as blue as the iciest lakes of Russia, and his left eye, as white as the tallest peaks of the motherland’s mountains. He rarely held any warmth in them, even when he looked at you, it didn’t surprise you, after all, the man was a product of his environment, and his environment had been nothing but harsh and unforgiving. All in all, he’d come out of it mostly unscathed, a smart and intimidating man with a steel resolve and an ambition for revolution, it was hard to not admire him in that sense.

“Fucking pigs. Have no respect for their superiors.” He finally answered after a long moment of looking at you, his breathing had calmed down some and he was finally able to slow down when he spoke, the harsh, grating sound of his dialect oddly comforting to you.

You frowned at him then, not understanding his anger, closing the distance between the both of you and gently grasping onto the scarred hand that was holding onto the piece of paper you’d seen him crumpling up when you walked in, extricating it from his grasp and straightening it.

Your eyebrows shot up as you carefully unfolded the paper to reveal the source of his anger; a crudely drawn stick figure with pigtails and enormous breasts, bent over in front of a hooded stick figure holding a knife. The drawing obviously representing you and him engaging in something obscene.

At the bottom of the piece of paper you made out the words “Perseus’ whore”, scrawled in sloppy writing, no doubt an attempt at humor from whoever gave this to him. You shook your head as a deep sigh escaped you, crumpling the offending art project and throwing it in the bin next to the table.

“He’ll get what’s coming to him.” You whispered as you gently placed your hand onto his broad shoulders, the soft fabric of his jacket warm under your touch, your head tilting slightly to catch his eyes. “The men closest to us respect me as they respect you Vik, this will not go unpunished.”

“No matter. I will not allow such vile conduct from lowly insects. He will pay with blood.” He’d said, carefully enunciating every word to make sure you understood his meaning well, his voice had grown rougher with barely contained anger.

The tension in the room had suddenly come to a boiling point, you remember the feeling vividly, his eyes had slowly dragged up your body until they’d landed on your face. The intensity he’d held in his gaze at that moment seared in your mind forever. You feel your breath hitch just at the memory, your throat bobbing as you swallow uneasily.

“My executioner. Together we’ll watch the world burn.” He had finally said, his rough hand carefully taking your much softer one from where it lay on his shoulder, fingers intertwining as he’d closed the distance between you and him. His mask long forgotten on the table next to you, he’d probably taken it off when he walked in, chucking it carelessly onto the pile of paperwork currently taking up most of the surface.

You remember smiling at his ruthlessness, the rough Russian words had somehow seemed so romantic to you in that moment. You remember the way his scarred lips had felt as he’d finally pressed them onto yours, so warm in contrast to the cold man they belonged to. You remember the way he’d held you that night, the way his muscular body had felt against yours, the way he’d whispered your name almost reverently in between soft kisses, his body gently crowding yours against the desk, pushing you up onto it so he could fit himself between your legs, his lips never leaving yours.

He'd taken you, right then and there, on the desk. Pushed everything off the wooden surface so he could have access to all of you without restraint. His lips explored your skin, worshipping every inch of it, every scar, every blemish as if the simple touch of his lips would somehow atone for the sins of others against you. The words he’d whispered to you alternating between Russian and English, he wanted to make sure you understood just how much you meant to him.

You’d done the same to him, ensured to kiss every scar you could see, your fingers gently traced the damaged skin of each and every one of them as you whispered your own words of worship to him, the taste of his skin burnt into your DNA, the shape of each of his tattoos engraved into your mind forever.

That night changed everything.

The memory fades, your heart clenches in melancholy at the knowledge that you’ll never be able to regain his trust, his softness, his love. All that you were eclipsed, and all that could’ve been was now nothing but wishful thinking on your part.

Vikhor didn’t forget, most of all, he didn’t forgive.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally dismisses his men with a curt nod followed by a rough command, the armed men hastily retreating to their assigned post, leaving the hallway deserted for the most part and the path to his office clear.

You follow his gaze as he sweeps the hallway himself one last time, the iciness of his eyes as they take in every detail one last time makes your heart beat faster in your chest, and you’re not sure if it’s out of fear or excitement. After a moment his critical gaze lands directly on the door you’re hiding behind, his eyes squinting at the tinted glass as you duck, a curse escaping your mouth.

The majority of his face is hidden by the gas mask he constantly wears outside, coupled with the thick hood obscuring his head, it’s hard to make out his expression as he finally turns around and enters his office, the door clicking quietly behind him. A relieved sigh leaves your mouth, you shuffle quietly, gathering your thoughts and trying to calm the storm raging in your mind as you get closer and closer to what you came here to do.

You hope he’ll listen, at the very least let you apologize and explain to him what happened to you, maybe even believe you when you tell him that your heart never left this place, that your purpose was and still is to be at his side, to rule the empire you helped him build over the years.

You know your chances are slim to none, but a small part of you hangs on to that sliver of hope that he’ll spare you, that he’ll accept the information you bring him. You swallow uneasily as you get up from where you were crouching on the floor, you throat suddenly dry and constricted. Most of all, you hope that he’ll remember his love for you, the love you both shared for one another before all of this went down, before your entire identity was ripped to shreds, before you were ripped from him.

You scan the hallway one last time before opening the door as quietly as possible, your eyes jumping from corner to corner to make sure no one sees you. You know this place like the back of your hand, spent countless hours walking through these very halls, working with some of these people, and yet, you’re nothing more than a ghost now, another soul lost to the cause, another name whispered, another body never recovered.

You step carefully, gracefully to his office, the blinds behind the tinted window are always closed and today is no exception. You strain your hearing in an attempt to decipher what he’s doing behind the closed door, nothing reaches you but dreadful silence. You grasp the door handle with a sweaty hand, fingers shaking as they wrap around the cold metal, your breath quickening as you slowly turn the handle and push open the door, one foot stepping in before you stop dead in your tracks, your eyes widening.

The sight before you is enough to make your stomach drop, you see the man you love lounging behind his desk, relaxed as ever, one foot propped on top of it, the heavy military boots he wears resting on the worn wood as he stretches his body out. His right hand wrapped around his gun, the metal glinting menacingly in the dim light of the room as he slowly rocks the weapon back and forth in his hand, dragging it over the surface of the desk every so often.

His other arm hangs on the side of the chair, out of view. His head is inclined slightly to one side, eyes pinning you to the spot as he glares at you with an intensity you’ve only ever seen directed at insubordinates within his ranks. The sword of Damocles hanging over your head in the very room you’d engineered Perseus’ most successful hits.

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out, your breath rushes out of you as you try to find your footing.

“Close the door.” He finally says, his English rusty and broken, his eyes unwavering as he tracks your every move like a predator waiting to pounce. You fumble with the door for a moment before finally closing it.

“Lock it.” He tells you, his voice coming out as growl and forcing a shiver of uneasiness to trail up your spine, every fiber of your being telling you to run, to get away, to save yourself before it’s too late.

“Vik-“ You start quietly as you turn around to face him, not moving from where you stand in fear of angering him further.

“Vik? After all this time?” He interrupts you roughly in Russian, his tone dripping with venom and disdain at your use of his given name. You miss the way he flinches at your voice, the lighting in the room too dark to perceive the slight reaction.

“Please listen to me, I promise- I promise this isn’t what you think it is.” You answer back in Russian, your voice quivering with unshed tears as you take a hesitant step towards him, imploring him to find it in him to listen to what you have to say.

“Do you know how many men I have looking for you, executioner? Do you know the price there is on your head right now, my love?” He spits that last part at you like the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, like he can’t believe he ever called you that to begin with.

He gets up then, slowly, confidently, his foot slowly dragging across the desk before falling heavily on the floor with a dull thud, the weight of it making the desk tremble slightly. The barrel of his gun drags against the wooden surface as he slowly rounds the desk to come face to face with you, standing well over a foot above you.

His smell assaults you then, clean linen and a hint of fresh mint overshadowed by gunpowder that sticks to every piece of clothing he owns. A smell that was once familiar and comforting now eliciting a shiver of fear in you, pale eyes that once held your entire world now only hold anger and hurt, a hurt that runs so deep you feel your heart crack under the weight of his gaze.

“I’m sorry Vik, I’m so fucking sorry, you have to listen to me please-“ You whisper as your voice breaks under the torrent of emotion raging through you.

“The Americans, they took me, they experimented on me, forced me to forget everything, made me into their puppet so I could feed them information on Perseus.” You tell him, stumbling over your words as you try to make him understand what’s at stake. His eyes harden, the scar running through his left eye looks even angrier like this, the usually pale blue of his right eye now looks almost black as anger simmers in it.

You swallow uneasily as cold metal presses under your chin, forcing your head up and straining the muscles of your neck.

“And? Did you? Did you betray us? Did you betray me, my love?” He whispers as he presses the cold metal harder against the delicate skin there, the heat in his gaze igniting something inside you, it feels wrong, so fucking wrong but you can’t help yourself as a whimper escapes you.

“No. No, I- “ You swallow uneasily as you try to keep your head upright and your gaze on his, refusing the let him see how scared you are.

“I told them nothing, I invented false leads to throw them off your scent. I convinced them to let me come here to get information because I wanted to warn you- They’re coming Vikhor, they want your head, Adler wants your head.” At the mention of Adler his other hand shoots up to wrap itself around your neck, pushing you against the door violently, the hand holding the gun lets go suddenly, the weapon clattering to the ground.

His now free hand comes up to his masked face, ripping away the constricting contraption to reveal more of his scarred flesh to you, his full lips pulled back into a feral snarl as he lowers his head to your ear. “You’re telling me Russell Adler is outside this fucking building waiting for you to bring him intel on ME?!” He rasps out in a deadly whisper, the hand around your neck tightening as he slaps the other one against the surface of the door, making you flinch.

“No. Not here. I’m alone, I promise I came alone, they trust me, I made them believe they could trust me. You need to move to a different location NOW Vik, I’ll give them a random location to give you time to get your men mobilized but you can’t stay.” You reply, one of your hands closing gently around the one at your neck, squeezing gently, reassuringly. Your eyes pleading with him, trying to get through the thick layer of ice between you and him.

He smirks then, his lips twisting in a deformed grin, exposing perfectly white teeth from the corner of his mouth as his hand loosens and his thumb slowly drags across your lips, his breath fanning across your cheek as a humorless laugh escapes him.

“I should fucking kill you, make an example out of you, discard you like the dog you are.” He whispers seductively, his eyes fixated on your lips as his thumb continues to rub gently across the delicate skin there, trying to coax your tongue out to wet them.

“Vik-“ You whimper breathlessly, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“No, instead I think I’ll let you continue on this mission of yours, you keep feeding them faulty information and you keep giving me information like the good little bitch you are, and maybe, MAYBE, I’ll let you live.” He growls out, his lips now dangerously close to yours, a wicked glint in his eyes as his tongue pokes out, dragging across his own lips as hunger starts burning through the glaciers nestled in his eyes.

His mouth is on yours then, he’s kissing you like he’s never kissed you before, desperation driving his every move as both of his hands cradle your face, one of his knees pushing your legs apart, forcing your core against his clothed thigh, the thick muscle under you flexing to accommodate you.

Your own hands grab onto the sides of his face, his strong jaw speckled in stubble, the rough texture of it making you moan into his mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue meeting yours for the first time in almost a year. A guttural groan escapes him at the taste of you, his desperation increasing tenfold as he suddenly scoops you up, one hand securely around your waist, while the other grabs a handful of your ass, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

You hear commotion as he drops you on his desk, his lips never leaving yours as he sweeps everything off the wooden surface, in one swoop all the clutter occupying his desk is sent flying across the room, you hear what you assume is a mug, shatter as it hits the floor.

His hands are grabbing everywhere at once, pulling at your clothing as he tries to get as close as possible to you, his need presses insistently against your stomach, pulling a moan from you as you try to move against him, your own delirium getting the best of you, all previous thoughts or worries gone from your mind as you finally feel him against you once more.

“Need you, Vik, please” You whine out, your hips straining towards his for any kind of relief, the Russian words coming from your mouth in such a needy manner pushing him into a frenzy, his hands dipping under the fabric of your shirt, pulling away from you just long enough to tear the piece of fabric off of you, exposing more of your skin to him. His hands immediately going to your breasts, pulling the cups of your bra low enough to expose them.

“Shut the fuck up, don’t say my name like that, not when you ripped my entire fucking heart out when you left, not when you left and took my soul with you. I couldn’t fucking think without you, I can’t fucking live without you.” He growls out, his voice betraying him as it cracks with emotion at his own admission.

Your answer comes as a moan as his lips wrap around one of your nipples, tongue curling over the sensitive bud, your hands tighten around his neck as you throw your head back in pleasure, hips grinding against his pulsing erection, the friction not nearly enough to provide any relief through the thickness of both your pants, you let out a frustrated cry at that, deciding to take matters into your own hands, you slide your fingers down his muscular chest, the wild thumping of his heart vibrating through your skin.

You reach his belt buckle a few moments later, nimble fingers working through the loops of his belt in quick efficient movements, finally freeing it. You hurriedly unzip his pants, his hips push into your hands as he continues to explore your skin, kissing and biting every inch of exposed flesh, making you his once again, making sure you’re real and not just a figment of his imagination.

When your hands finally wrap around the thickness of him, his forehead drops against your sternum, a grunt escaping his mouth as you slowly pump his length, your own mouth leaving a trail of sloppy kisses along his jaw, his name like a prayer on your tongue, reassuring him that you’re actually there, that you’re real, that you love him.

“Can’t- can’t wait. Need you, right here, right now.” He breathes out, his hands fumbling with your pants impatiently, almost tearing them in his haste to get them off of you, not even caring to remove them completely.

“I’m here, I’m here my love, take what you need.” You whisper reassuringly, your lips catching his in another kiss as his big hand cups your core, fingers dragging through your arousal before pushing one thick digit inside you, the tight ring of muscles relaxing around him as he starts thrusting his finger in a steady rhythm, more of your arousal leaking out around his hand.

You push your face against his clothed shoulder to muffle the sounds you make, not wanting to get caught, your teeth sinking into the thick layer of muscle when he adds a second finger, the soft squelching of your wetness resonating throughout the dark room, coupled with the soft curses leaving his mouth occasionally as you continue your own assault on him, precum leaking steadily from his tip and onto your hand, making a mess of his own.

“Always so fucking wet for me aren’t you? Even when you betray me, this pussy knows who it belongs to.” He growls possessively in your ear, his movements growing more relentless as you start clenching around him, the degrading statement only adding to your growing arousal.

You cum suddenly, violently around his fingers. Tears spring to your eyes as you throw your head back, a broken half sob, half moan escaping you as he continues to thrust his fingers slowly inside your pussy, your legs shaking from where they’re still hooked around his waist.

His fingers slide out of you, forcing a hiss from you at the sudden emptiness, but the feeling doesn’t last long, you feel the thick head of his length pressing against your opening, the familiar feeling causes a shiver to rip through you.

“Look at me. Wanna see you when I make you cum.” He commands, breaching you with a steady thrust. You struggle to keep your eyes open at the onslaught of pleasure overtaking you, your eyesight blurry from tears of pleasure threatening to spill out, but you nod clumsily, one hand twisting into the material of his sweater when he starts working himself deeper into you, his breathing growing ragged at the feel of you taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust.

You lose track of the words coming out of your mouth, Russian and English coming out as a jumbled mess, different variations of his name as well as pleas to let you cum fade into one another, his hips stuttering every so often when your voice cracks around the syllables of your prayers to gods who gave up on the both of you long ago.

His hands end up around your jaw once again, the roughened skin holding your face softly as his piercing eyes hold yours, his own jaw clenched hard enough to make the vein on his forehead jump with strain as he wrestles with his feelings and with the pleasure coursing through his body, wave after wave assaulting his senses like an unrelenting storm.

When your release comes, it’s an all-consuming inferno, the muscles in your core collapsing onto the heavy thickness of him within you, forcing his thrusts to turn erratic in turn. Your head thrown back in a silent scream as you soak the desk beneath you with the proof of your pleasure, a pleasure that gets stretched out as he chases after his own release, pumping into you with abandon, strong hands holding onto your head as his own eyes roll back into his head as he finally cums deep inside you.

You both lay there panting for a moment, your minds reeling, your hearts clenched tight with emotional turmoil, wanting to stay here forever, and wanting to disappear at the same time.

When he finally pulls out, a hiss escapes him, his eyes fixated on the evidence of your coupling slowly leaking out of your abused cunt as he tucks himself back into his pants gingerly, the mask of tense indifference he wore earlier falling back into place seamlessly.

“Go. Grab your shit. I’ll find you when I’m ready.” He grunts, turning around and exiting his office without another word, leaving you there.

[funishment-time]

🔵 Kodaka BlueSky Q&As: Game Development & Sequels

⚠️ DISCLAIMER: Please be advised! Translations of all Japanese answers derive from a combination of Google Translate and my manager's three-quarters-remembered Japanese. We've tried our best to work out what he's saying, but there will be mistakes here and there. Do not take this as gospel!

To avoid spreading too much misinfo, where we're completely boggled about an answer, we've decided not to even make an attempt. We'll still list the post, but mark it accordingly.

💕 FEBRUARY 2024:

Q: How is the progress of the new work?

A: The game is progressing at a rapid pace with the death march. But it is a death march.

NOTE: From the date of posting, we can assume the above refers to The Hundred Line, which was not fully announced until June 2024. However, that's just an assumption.

/////

Q: How do the death games you have released so far get through the ratings system?

A: I try to recognize and avoid expressions that are not appropriate to use.

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Q: i have a question! will there be more raincode games?

A: I would like to.

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Q: What is the likelihood that you will really create an online killer training game that both adults and children will enjoy?

A: 0% which is as close to 100% as possible.

NOTE: Likely the above refers to a game idea Kodaka had where you train someone into becoming a serial killer.

/////

Q: Are there plans to make a sequel to Rain Code?

A: I'd love to do that...! Please support me...!

/////

Q: Are there plans for a new Danganronpa release? I've loved it for a long time❗️♡

A: Thank you very much! Plans…? Thank you very much!

NOTE: Please take this with a grain of salt, but Kodaka's use of 予定, yotei, for "plans," is interesting here. My manager tells me that if someone says yotei they intend to do something and/or are actively working on pulling it together. If our understanding is correct, this could mean...well, a lot of different things, but does tell us at the very least he wants to do more Danganronpa.

/////

Q: It would be interesting to see a battle game using characters from Danganronpa or Rain Code, but will there be any games in the future that use characters from Danganronpa or Rain Code in genres other than mystery games?

A: I'd like to try it, but there doesn't seem to be a demand for it...

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Q: If it's OK to ask a second question, I'd like to hear about the stories behind the casting of each cast member in Danganronpa and Rain Code.

A: Generally, we choose from the sound company's selection or candidates, but on rare occasions we specify the cast. For almost all roles in Rain Code, we held auditions and selected the cast.

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Q: When playing the Danganronpa series and Rain Code, I feel like there is a lot of impressive music, but what kind of image did you have in mind when ordering the music? Also, do the impressions of the finished music ever have an influence on the game's production? I'd love to know if you don't mind!

A: I just roughly present the direction and leave it up to Takada. I've liked Takada ever since he was making songs with Grasshopper, so I don't reject any of his songs. Although I might use them in a different way.

NOTE: Masafumi Takada's behind all the bomb-ass music in DR and Rain Code.

/////

Q: Is there a possibility of a sequel to Akudama Drive?

A: I think there is! If you haven't already watched it, please do!

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Q: Is there a follow-up story to Danganronpa v3? Also, is v3 the end of the Danganronpa series?

A: I'll do a crowdfunding campaign to motivate myself…Just to motivate. The reward is to make a sequel. lol

/////

Q: May I please ask again? 🙏 Are you working on any unannounced projects? Or what project or projects should your fans be most excited for? I am a big fan of yours, and I want to thank you on behalf of all your fans for all the creative works you and your friends have brought into the world! 🌎 🗺

A: We are working on all kinds of works at the same time. First of all, a collaborative work by kodaka and Uchikoshi will be unveiled soon.

NOTE: Again, from the date of posting and the reference to Uchikoshi, we can assume the above refers to The Hundred Line, which was not fully announced until June 2024.

🍀 MARCH 2024:

Q: What are your plans for the future of Danganronpa? Something I’ve been wanting to ask in particular is if there were any ideas for possibly rantaros game or maybe a v3 animation? :3

A: I don't know what will happen to Danganronpa since Spike Chunsoft has the rights to it. But personally, I would like to make it someday.

/////

Q: Would you like to see your games in more languages? Along with English, Rain Code was released in French, Italian, German and Spanish. I'm Brazilian and I'd really like to see your games in Portuguese! Maybe even with voices in Portuguese, too...

A: I want to translate as many languages as possible in the game. And I want to visit many countries.

🥬 APRIL 2024:

n/a

🌺 MAY 2024:

n/a

☀️ JUNE 2024:

Q: Did you have any difficulties with CERO while creating Dangaronpa and Raincode?

A: V3 was canceled in South Korea right before its release, and when we tried to do a parody of Jibanyan with Jibakuma, the company stopped us.

NOTE: Jibanyan is a character from Yo-Kai Watch. CERO is the organization that applies age ratings to games etc in Japan.

🎇 JULY 2024:

Q: will a character introduction trailer be released soon for last defence academy? Also, can you tell a little about Suminos personality (not spoilers ofc)? 🙈

A: Wait a little longer! They are all wonderful characters!

/////

Q: Mr. Kodaka, do you have a policy when deciding on character names? What I think is amazing about Danganronpa is that you take impossible surnames in real life, like Fukawa and Pekoyama, and mix them with common words like river and mountain to make them less incongruous, so I'd like to know if you have any other policies when deciding on names.

A: We put a lot of importance on the sound and the appearance of the names. But we changed them a few times along the way. We can't know the balance between normal-sounding names and strange names until all the names are finalized.

🌭 AUG 2024:

n/a

🍁 SEPT 2024:

n/a