#we both had to make the conscious choice that YOU are it and every day we live up to that expectation.

[kingdumkum]

I totally agree with your concept of love!! Too many people rely on the feeling of love instead of choosing to love someone, and they don't realize love takes work. You know?

tee my darlin, we're on the exact same page. I've been ruminating on this for a bit, trying to figure out the best way to say this without being Annoying, but it always comes back to this: love, the kind that lasts a lifetime, is a choice.

i know i got into it a bit here, but like. if you don't expect any other emotion to last forever, why is there a belief that love will? media is beautiful in the sense that we get to have some of the most amazing adventures, but it's also so damaging in how it twists the perception of what a healthy relationship looks like, or what real standards of love are. I could whip out a dozen examples, but they all boil down to how setting an unrealistic expectation for a very impressionable audience negatively influences their idea of what love, romantic or otherwise, is--particularly the young adults that haven't experienced love yet or don't have a healthy example to look up to. love, whether you're on the receiving or giving side, is not an excuse for bad behavior, and nor is it as eternal as media claims.

in my experience, as someone happily engaged and who's been spending a lot of time talking to Older Folks about what's made their marriages last (or end), the longest love is two-sided and it takes work. anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or has found someone willing to sacrifice everything in order to keep their partner happy.

love is not sacrifice, but it requires compromise; love is not pain, but it requires the memory of happiness in order to continue. love is born from an emotion, but it continues with the conscious decision to make it so. if you're not happy, sad, angry, anxious, etc. 100% of the time, how can you expect love, as an emotion, to exist 100% of the time?

don't get me wrong, love is certainly something you feel, and if you don't feel it, you can not force it--but if you're looking for the kind of love that lasts a lifetime, you've got to be willing to make it a choice, too.

(interestingly, and for another tangent, is how so many continuations/time skips focus on how the original love interests separated after Some Time and are either (1) finding a new love story or (2) rekindling their love... almost like Hollywood is admitting they care more about telling how two people FALL in love and less about what someone has to do in order to make it last a lifetime... but I digress).

[st7rnsangels]

— rumours put to rest. chris sturniolo | versus tour

sypnosis. with all the girls flirting and complimenting with y/n’s famous boyfriend, chris sturniolo, she begins to feel self conscious of if she actually deserves this mini-celebrity she caught herself, especially with their relationship being a secret. bf!chris realized this and decided to put the rumours to rest once and for all.

warnings. flangst? self-consciousness, crying / comfort, fem!reader, that’s really all.

a/n. not sure where this inspiration came from but i’m feeling sappy today. also first post!!!!! like and reblog to support your favourite writers<3333

“ the need to be the best before the need to rest .. “

this was it; the versus tour was finally here, and my boyfriend was going on stage in front of hundreds of people.

a lot of girls found him attractive, that i knew was inevitable. but i could never get rid of this sickly feeling.

while he was out there, being admired by all these pre-teen girls, i was sat inside the trailer watching through a live-camera.

i wanted to be out there. i wanted to be the one admiring him.. he is my boyfriend of six months, after all.

and don’t get me wrong — chris is an amazing boyfriend, and i couldn’t have asked for a better soulmate to be paired with, but i was sick of being a secret.

i knew staying secret was the better choice, both for him and for me. i didn’t like the spotlight, and i didn’t want to deal with the rude comments by jealous girls, and he simply wasn’t ready to reveal our relationship yet.

i understood it, all of it.

yet, i couldn’t help but feel horrible about the situation i put myself in.

i watched as the girl brought on stage to be on his team was a little overly touchy, grabbing his arm, talking to him.

it was all in good-heart, i knew that, yet.. i still felt that twinge of my heart at every touch or glance or words spoken between them, telling me that it should be me on that stage making him laugh under his breath.

it hurt. my heart hurt from the guilt and sadness of being remained a secret, and i didn’t like it. at all.

i quickly wiped the tear from my cheek as i tried to remain positive seeing my boyfriend happy, and smiling, but it was hard with the constant flow of tears from my eyes that just didn’t seem to stop.

shit. why am i crying?

a voice is spoken from my phone, “alright, guys, we have to get going, but thank you so much for coming, it was a blast tonight!” nick said in the mic, turning to his brothers to signify it was time to go.

“awwww!” the crowd erupts.

“thank you guys!” matt’s distant voice says to the mic as he grabs his jacket and moves toward the exit.

chris waves goodbye to his parter that was brought onto the stage, giving her a quick smile and waving to the crowd as he followed his brother.

fuck. why did that hurt so bad? it shouldn’t, really.

i shut my phone off, tossing it across the tiny tour bed, and curled into myself. i brushed my tears away, running fingers through my hair.

it was all lighthearted, that’s what i should be thinking.

but the girl he was with was so beautiful. the kind of beautiful that makes your breath stop and your head feel dizzy.

looking at myself in the mirror across from the bed, i sigh.

chris should be with that kind of girl: effortlessly pretty, good smile, bubbly personality.. yet, i was the opposite. he clicked with her, because that was his match — the same loudness, eagerness, excitement and energy, she should be his type of match.

before i can spiral into my thoughts any longer, the door to the tour bus opens.

“oh my god, i’m spent.” nick huffs, placing his wallet and phone on the small table and falling against the couch.

“tell me about it, all day travelling and then a three hour show? i’m exhausted.” matt says, dropping his keys and jacket against the kitchen counter.

realizing they had already made their way to the bus, i quickly wipe my tears.

“hey, y/n.” nick waves, and i peek my head out, flashing the best smile i could.

“hi, nick.” i say back, huffing at the small croack in my voice.

and then, there was chris.

i watch as he walks over to me, smile on his face as he grabs my cheeks and kisses my forehead. “hi, baby.” he says, pulling away to look at my face.

and when his eyes land on my puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, his brows furrow.

“are you.. okay?” he whispers, quickly glancing to nick and matt who shrug their shoulders. he lets go of my face, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“yeah, um, i’m — i’m fine.” i sniff, wiping my tears, “just missing home.”

his eyes run over my face, almost as if inspecting me.

he leans closer, whispering. “do you wanna go outside? so we can talk.”

i glance toward nick and matt, pretending not to be listening, yet they were horrible at hiding their curiosity.

looking back to chris, i nod. he gives me a smile, lending out his hand which i take. the warmth of his hand seeps into my palm, giving me almost instant comfort he seems to always be able to give me.

he leads me toward the door, making a silent, quick gesture and muttering for matt to move his ass, which he does.

and as soon as that door opens, and i take a step outside, i feel instantly calmed down. i realized now that i had spent basically the last twelve hours inside that trailer.

chris squeezes my hand as we walk down the road, listening to the soft sounds of the forest and buzzing streets of the city ahead of us.

and as we found a place against a wall, he sighs and stops, leaning against it.

“so.. what’s wrong?” he says, letting go of my hand, wiping a small tear that i hadn’t realized ran down my cheek.

“i dunno, i just —.. i think i’m overreacting, it’s nothing to really—“

“baby.” chris cuts my off, resting a hand on my cheek, “it’s just me,” he tucks my hair behind my ear, “talk to me.”

i bite my lip. ponder his words.

“that girl you were partnered with today on stage?” i offer.

“what about her?” he asks.

“it’s just.. i dunno.” i look to my hands, picking at my nails, “she was so beautiful. and funny, and outgoing..”

his brows furrow, “where are you going with this?”

my teeth sink back into my lip, “do you ever.. think about how different our lives are?

“i mean, i’m this college student, becoming a teacher, and you’re a celebrity.” i shrug my shoulders, “do you ever think about being with.. with someone more compatible?”

“wait, just—“

“that girl in there, she was just like you.” i chuckle, before sniffing, “loud, funny, all bubbly and smiley like that..”

“y/n—“

“and i’m just.. some book nerd.”

“Y/N.” chris says, placing two hands on my shoulders. “please, let me talk.

my lips form a tight line, my throat aching from a sob wanting to come from my throat.

“i love you.” he says in a breathy tone, “only you. i don’t care about how different our lives are; you’re the only girl i want.”

“you.. you love me?” i whisper.

a smile forms on his lips as he brushes a thumb across my cheek.

“of course i do, dummy.” he says, pulling me closer by a hand on my back clothed by his hoodie — his favourite hoodie.

“now, can you stop crying so i can kiss you?” he says, licking his lips, “‘been thinking about you the whole show.”

i giggle. “you’re such a loser.”

“only for you, baby.”

[sl-ut]

random college!abby hcs

more!college abby

warnings: mentions of sex, drinking, drugs, and nudity, cursing, mild hint homophobia

first things first: jerry is alive and abby is his pride and joy

i'm serious... her mom died when she was a toddler and jerry hasn't had a long-term relationship since, so he's the only parental figure that she has

he took every precaution while raising her to make sure she always had everything she could ever need while also making sure that she didn't end up being an entitled brat

otherwise, she is very close with both of her father's siblings (her aunt is the only maternal relationship she has and definitely relied on her for all of her personal issues as a teenager), has a good relationship with jerry's mother and step-father

her mother was an only child, but her parents always come over for thanksgiving and even christmas sometimes

she was very supportive of her father taking in yara and lev after she moved out. she knew he was suffering from a severe case of empty nest syndrome. she def makes them feel so welcome right away like those strangers became her siblings in a matter of minutes

i'll only say it once ppl: OLD MONEY

jk i'll say it again. the andersons are a long line of surgeons and doctors so obvi they're gonna be well off

like, not "fund a research facility to get my kid into college" rich, they're more "i casually have a summer home, a ski chalet, and a ridiculously nice house to live in year round" rich.

her only real relationship was in high school (trigger warning: it was owen)

our bby had a bad case of comphet as a teenager

like fr she had not even considered the fact that she might be gay until she was two knuckles deep in some sorority girl during a party in her freshman year

after that she sort of just accepted it, she had no concern of her dad bc obviously he would be so accepting and supportive, but a few of her relatives def had an issue with it right off the bat (old money, old values)

she's been friends with manny, nora, owen, and mel since middle school, and the only one whose view of her seemed to change was owen (and mel too ig bc she stopped seeing abby as such a threat)

he drunkenly questioned her about it once, saying something super gross and along the lines of "you didn't seem gay when we were together"

to which she responded by offering him two choices; he could sit down and shut up or she would knock him tf out

he's cooled it since then but everyone knows that he still has a big fat crush on her so he still wants to believe he has a chance (even tho he was literally already talking to mel before they broke up and announced they were together only a few days after)

she's pre-med, majoring in bio and minoring in something totally different like classical lit or history or something

she's gonna end up being an orthopedic surgeon but later on in her career i can see her turning to teaching at a university or something

like doctor!abby turned prof!abby???? omg

is very health conscious

she's a gym rat, this we already know

she also takes her diet very seriously as well, but always has a secret stash of junk for when she really needs it

also careful with her alcohol/drug intake

she drinks on occasion (birthday, christmas, new years, etc, etc) but usually not very much (will almost always be sober enough to be the sober driver if need be)

she refuses to do any drugs during lacrosse season. she's so strict with her diet during the season that she won't ingest anything other than quality, nutritious food. she also needs to submit a drug test a few times per season so she doesn't wanna risk it.

in the off season, she's more willing to have a puff or two at a party or take an edible before a movie night or something (i don't see her doing any drug other than weed)

she lived with manny during her freshman and sophomore years

they had a shitty little apartment a few minutes away from campus

it was the only one that manny could afford on a student budget, and he refused abby's offer to get a nicer apartment and let her pay a larger portion of the rent than he did

they still had fun either way

manny loved having another person he could talk about girls with (he was initially gonna move in with owen but then he got ditched for mel)

every sunday morning they would get takeout for breakfast so manny could recount his night with the girl that had snuck out only a few hours earlier

she was a little hesitant to join in and share her own stories, but she finally got more comfortable in talking to him about it (RESPECTFULLY!!!!!!! she was so scared that she was gonna end up sounding like a literally disgusting pig but she keeps the details to a minimum and only says nice things unless the girl was a major bitch)

she's a lululemon/gymshark girly. her go-to style is definitely any variation of athlesiure. she wears lots of joggers, dry-fit tops, and the cleanest pair of white sneakers you'll ever see

underneath, i'm picturing her as more of a bralette type of girl. obviously she wears a sports bra to the gym, but on a regular basis, she likes wearing bralettes over bras bc she doesn't need that much support so they offer just enough without the discomfort of a bra

i'm settling the debate rn everyone, college!abby wears boxers AND panties

she finds boxers more comfortable on a day to day basis, but she likes wearing cheekies and thongs especially when she's wearing leggings

so dorky

she was definitely a sci-fi/fantasy kid

she grew up on harry potter, lord of the rings, star wars, etc etc

would love a partner who would watch them with her and actually enjoy it

unironically makes gym thirst traps on tiktok

her followers always comment supportive things like: looking good!, major gainssss, muscle mommy come destroy this pu-

still wears the iconic braid, but usually only when she's on the field. she occasionally wears her hair down, but i hc that she still likes to wear her hair pulled back in a cute little braided ponytail or a messy low bun

when she's older SHE CUTS HER HAIR OMG OMG OMG like literally i'm purring rn

like ik you've all seen that edit of her with super short hair omg she's so hot

in her junior year she decided to live on her own

manny moved in with jordan, who had been begging him for a while since the rent was more than he could handle on his own, though manny's rent would actually be cheaper than it was in his apartment with abby

they still do their traditions tho, still having sunday breakfast, still going to the campus pub on fridays for trivia, still going to the gym together on wednesdays...

they're actually besties i love them

when she's on her period, she craves salty foods

is so frustratingly confident in her emotions

will always try to diffuse the situation and pissing the other person off with her calmness

takes really good care of her skin

her favourite drink is diet cranberry gingerale

she's a dog person, but she would definitely enjoy having a cat around too

adopts a rescue dog a few weeks after finishing her residency

uses old spice fiji body wash and deodorant (SHE SMELLS SO FUCKING GOOD) and a musky vanilla body spray

likes to feel and be clean, but isn't too fussed about her body hair so long as it looks tidy. she isn't anti shaving, and will probably make an effort to shave more regularly in the early stages of a relationship until she's more confident and comfortable around the person

NSFW

down-there hair? duh

like i said, she likes to keep things tidy so she'll trim and maybe shave her bikini line if she's feeling it but that's it. she's not fussed with body hair, whether it's her or her partner's

again, she'll make an effort to keep herself looking neat and tidy for the first bit of a relationship but after a few weeks she's not afraid to go full-bush when she doesn't wanna shave

she doesn't love penetration. fingers are one thing, but she has only had not-so-great experiences with sex that involved a penis-like object. she'd wanna be the one wearing the strap for the most part, but she'd be willing to try it again with the right person

slow and passionate sex >>>>>

considers herself to be very vanilla but she's actually kinda kinkyyyyy (she gets so embarrassed and blushy when anyone calls her out for it)

she prefers scissoring to using her strap (but she LOVES her strap)

she doesn't like to choke her partners, but she will reach her hand up and just hold their throat while they're fucking

she's always so sensitive

came in like thirty seconds during her first time with another girl

she's noiiiiisssyyyyyyyy

she usually starts out with just heavy panting breaths, then they turn into deep grunts, then she begins to whine from low in her throat, and finally she begins to gasp out words of praise or curses

she squirts teehee

like i said she's always so sensitive, so if she's any ways worked up when someone's going down on her they better watch out bc they're in the splash zone

her strap is purple and sparkly

abby anderson eats ass

her nipples are super sensitive too

not really nsfw but she really loves casual nudity with her partners, changing in front of each other, hopping in the shower together, using the bathroom with the other person in the room...

she's a boob girl. doesn't matter if they're big, small, saggy, or perky, she just wants to suck them

when she's on top, she likes to pull her partner's leg over her shoulder and will just start like trailing kisses along the length of their calf

she's a literal munch

will use it to her advantage too

tells her partner she'll go down on them if they finish their assignments

[sunny44]

Chapter 3 (love is in Mallorca)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/n goes to Mallorca intending to leave her life behind, at least for a while. Then she meets a mysterious guy who makes this trip, to say the least, unforgettable.

Previous chapter

The days in Mallorca were starting to pass by far too quickly. With every meeting, I felt more connected, more curious, but also more hesitant.

It was as if there was an invisible line between us, something he didn’t want me to cross. And, to be honest, I didn’t know if I was ready to push the matter. In a way, I liked the mystery, the sense of unknown that kept things light, almost carefree. It was nice to be myself with someone who expected nothing from me.

That night, he suggested something different: a small party on a terrace, at one of the highest points in the city. It was a place he said was “private,” but from the sparkle in his eyes, I knew it would be more than that.

“There’ll be music, food, great wine, and the best view of the island. Trust me,” he said, laughing when he saw my hesitation.

And, of course, I went. I had already trusted him so many times that this was just one more. I put on a long, light dress, fitting for the warm night breeze, and tied my hair up loosely. Even though I wanted to impress, I wasn’t sure why. He was a mystery, yet at the same time, he felt like someone I’d known for years.

When he picked me up from the hotel, his gaze briefly examined me, but intensely, as if he were keeping that image for himself. And something about him seemed different that night. There was a kind of tension I hadn’t noticed before. Was he starting to want to say something?

We walked to the place, and as promised, the view was spectacular. The terrace was surrounded by small hanging lights, glowing like fireflies under the starry sky. The sound of laughter and conversation in the background blended with the soft music, and a small table in the corner was filled with glasses of chilled wine and plates of tapas.

“Impressed?” he asked, handing me a glass of white wine.

“Very,” I replied, looking around, soaking in the magical atmosphere. “You really know how to impress a woman.”

He gave an enigmatic smile, that same smile that held secrets, and I was already beginning to understand it as part of him.

We sat at one of the more secluded tables, where we could watch the party without being noticed. It was almost like we were in our own world, a place just for us, even with all the people around.

“You never told me what you do for a living,” I commented casually, turning to him.

He took a sip of wine and looked away for a moment, as if he were thinking of a response.

“I guess it’s not that interesting. I work with cars, travel a lot, work with a lot of people… it’s hectic, but not as much as it seems.”

I laughed softly, raising an eyebrow.

“That doesn’t sound like a very clear answer.”

“Maybe I prefer people not knowing too much about me,” he admitted, finally looking me in the eyes. “At least, not right away.”

That caught me off guard. Up until that point, I thought he was just avoiding talking about himself because he was reserved, but now it seemed more like a conscious choice. As if he really wanted to keep me away from some part of his life.

“I guess I can understand that,” I replied, trying not to show my surprise. “Sometimes it’s nice to just… live in the moment, no labels, no expectations, and without having to explain your life to anyone.”

He smiled, relaxing a little.

“Exactly. That’s it.”

We sat in silence for a while, both watching the party and the people around us. The music picked up, and some people started to dance. He glanced at me, as if deciding whether or not to ask me to dance. And then, without warning, he reached out his hand.

“Come on, let’s dance a little.”

I took his hand, feeling the connection that seemed to grow with every touch. We moved to the center, where the music flowed between us like an invisible current. He wasn’t the best dancer, but his movements were natural, relaxed, and without much effort to seem professional. We laughed several times when one of us missed a step, but neither of us seemed to care.

As we danced, I realized how much I had closed myself off before meeting him. How I had built walls around me, protecting myself from more disappointment, from more heartbreak. But there, in that moment, none of that mattered. I felt free, even though I didn’t really know who he was.

The music changed to a slower melody, and he pulled me a little closer, his arms firmly around my waist. There was something electrifying in the air, a palpable tension. Our eyes met, and for a brief second, I had the impression that he was about to tell me everything. But then, he looked away, as if fighting against it.

“You know…” he began, hesitantly.

“What?” I asked, my heart racing.

He took a deep breath, as if he were about to reveal the secret he’d been holding since the beginning. But before he could say anything, we were interrupted by a group of people who greeted him warmly in Spanish. They seemed to know him well, and he responded with the same familiarity, smiling and exchanging a few quick words.

I stood off to the side, watching the scene, trying to piece together the puzzle in front of me. Who was he, really? And why did he seem so comfortable with these people, as if he were part of something bigger that he wasn’t ready to share with me?

When the group finally moved on, he turned back to me, but the moment of openness had passed. His smile was once again that casual, controlled smile.

“Sorry about that,” he said, taking another sip of wine. “Old friends.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, trying to hide my frustration. “Seems like you know everyone here.”

He laughed, looking away.

“Let’s just say I have a few connections.”

The night continued, but the mood had shifted. I knew he was holding something back, and more and more, I felt like it had something to do with why he kept himself so reserved. Deep down, I knew he wouldn’t tell me anything that night, but I also sensed that we were getting closer to the truth.

When he took me back to the hotel, the silence between us was different, heavier. He stopped at the entrance, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something, finally open up that part of himself he’d been hiding.

“See you tomorrow?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine.

“Sure,” I replied, trying to sound carefree, even with the storm of questions swirling in my mind.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss my cheek. It was a quick touch, but one that left a deep mark.

As I watched him walk away into the night, I felt like I was on the verge of discovering more about him — and somehow, more about myself. Something was coming, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to deal with whatever it was.

The mystery continued, but I knew the truth was closer than ever.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“I’m starting to fall in love with this place”

Tag list: @lieslostinsilence @iloveallmyboys @r4zberrygirl @hoya122 @sid-is-gr8 @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @barcelonaloverf1life @harrysbigrighttoe @dark-night-sky-99 @willowsnook @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @thegirlamongthestars

Next chapter

[mapis-putellas]

What we left behind.

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 2053

Warnings: talk of death. Vormir. Guns

Summary: Natasha was gone. At least, that's what you'd been told. She’d sacrificed herself; died to save everyone else, to bring back her family. If that was really the case, then who was at your front door?

The familiar sensation of a tear streaming down the side of your face breaks you from your thoughts as you stare up at the whirring blades of the fan. The wetness tickles your skin, but you couldn’t quite find it in you to wipe it away.

It had been nearly six months now since you’d lost your girlfriend, and that same old numbness still remains. It sits heavily on your chest like a blanket, except, this blanket wasn’t at all comforting. It was suffocating; restricting every single movement you make like a straight jacket.

The only thing you seem to know how to do anymore is cry, and even then they were pitiful tears, barely enough to warrant actual cries. It was almost as though you’d cried so much that all of your tears had simply run out. You’d all dried up.

Your eyes flicker almost subconsciously around the room. The only light came from a slit between the curtains at the window, the feeble brightness barely enough for you to make out anything other than the fine dust littering every surface. The sight of it brings you back to the last time you’d cleaned. It was over five months ago low, the day Natasha was supposed to come home.

Through the blip, neither you or Natasha had managed to find it in you to really keep your shared apartment tidy. You didn’t see the point, and Natasha just simply didn’t have the time. She was too busy with being team leader to what was left of the avengers.

But that had all changed when the plan of her going to vormir with Clint was put into action. She’d bring Yelena back with her, her mom and dad, and you’d share the first dinner in over five years with your girlfriend and family.

But then Clint had arrived back alone with the soul stone in hand, and a deep sense of unease had held you rigid until he’d shaken his head telling you she wasn’t coming back. That was when your whole world had fallen apart right in front of you.

You remember not being able to breath. You remember crying so hard you had physically made yourself sick. You remember the arms that had tried to wrap around you, and you remembered pushing them away in disgust. They weren’t Natasha’s arms. They weren’t allowed to touch you.

You remember leaving the compound and making your way back home to the empty, clean apartment you’d spent so long making perfect for her.

You remember the feeling of dread that had settled unceremoniously into your stomach. It remains there to this day as a constant reminder of what you’d lost. You remember everything about that day so vividly you want to erase it from your mind forever.

But you couldn’t.

Natasha was gone. She’d made her choice, and now you had to find a way to live with it no matter how badly it hurt to try.

*

And try you did. You woke up everyday despite never wanting to be conscious again. You went to work and pretended like seeing everyone was a blessing when in actual fact they brought you pain. You even managed to befriend Yelena, one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do.

She was a constant reminder of Natasha, and it was hard to differentiate the two in your deep stage of grief. You were sure you weren’t easy to be around for her either, but together you somehow managed to level one another out. It wasn’t perfect, and most days you fought like cats and dogs, but you were all each other had so you’d learnt to make it work.

It was on a normal Tuesday did all of that change.

There was a knock at your front door, the strength behind it both hesitant and wary. That, and the fact you weren’t expecting anyone raises the fine hairs on the back of her neck, and as grab your gun from it’s place in the locked drawer, you try your best to shake of the fear that had suddenly begun to run though you. Safety off and finger on the trigger, you reach forward and grasp the door handle before cautiously pulling open the door.

Absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greets you on the other side. You stand there, body rigid; trembling in complete and utter terror as your eyes burn with the familiar sensation of tears. It was her face. Her hair. Her clothes, her body. But it couldn’t be. She was dead. She died.

This wasn’t her, no matter how badly you wanted it to be.

An immediate feeling of dread creeps up from the pit of your stomach, and your pulse beats in your ears so loudly it blocks out all other sound. You go to raise your gun; because how dare this person torture you by pretending to be the love of your life -but raised hands promptly stop you in your tracks. You look at her, eyes wet with unshed tears desperate to fall.

She eyes you cautiously as she takes a small step closer, hands still either side of her head. “It’s me.” She seems to desperately plead, and at the sound of her voice, you feel the tightness in your throat grow a tenfold. It was her voice. This person had her voice too.

You try to say something; anything, but when you open your mouth, you come to find that even words had deserted you. It leaves you to release a choked sob despite your best efforts to stifle it, and you press your lips together in a futile attempt to prevent another from escaping as you tighten your grasp around the gun.

Your hands were noticeably trembling and unsteady, but the implication was there. You weren’t afraid to pull the trigger, and this person had to know that.

“P-prove it.” You somehow manage to choke out, and she nods, her throat bobbing as she looks away for just a second before speaking. You hate that your stomach clenches at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

Natasha used to show her emotions so rarely that each time she even came close to shedding a tear it would break your heart.

“We met just after my defection to shield. We didn’t like each other at first, because you thought I was too stubborn and hardheaded and I thought you were a self centred know it all.” She starts, and you hate the hope that begins to build in your stomach.

You were forced to remind yourself that this wasn’t hidden information. If you were around back then, you would know that Natasha and yourself never used to get along.

She seems to know this, because after a short moment, she continues. “You hate chocolate. The one time I got it for you for Valentine’s Day you waited until I was out of sight to give it to Peter. You hate the movie Up because it makes you cry. My sweater, the black one with the zip is your favourite because it’s oversized and smells like me. You…you used to wear it when I went on missions because it made you feel close. You used to sleep on my side of the bed when I wasn’t there because my pillow smells like my perfume,” she chuckles slightly as she uses one of her raised hands to wipe away the single tear that manages to spill down her cheek.

By now, you could feel your guard beginning to drop. Nobody knew this stuff. Nobody but Natasha. But it couldn’t be her. She was gone. It was a soul for a soul and she was the sacrifice. There was no other choice. She was dead. She was gone…wasn’t she?

“You think coffee is gross,” she continues, seemingly under the impression that you still weren’t convinced. “But you still kiss me even when I drink it. You call it the ultimate sacrifice.” At that part, your lips quirk up at the corners. It was an inside joke when you’d first gotten together. She’d make fun if you for not liking coffee and you’d kiss her just to shut her up.

“It’s our five year anniversary in two months. I was going to propose. I bought the ring and it’s in my underwear drawer underneath my socks. I wanted to spent the rest of my life with you, but then thanos…”

You drop the gun to the floor with a loud clatter and all but throw yourself against her body. Hesitant arms move from their raised position to settle gently around your waist, and you feel the tip of her cold nose nudge against the skin of your neck as she pulls you close to her.

“It’s you,” you choke out as you tightly fist the material of her jacket in your hands. You feel her nod against you, her hands fighting to grab purchase of any part of your body they could. She was shaking almost violently in your hold, whether that be from the cold or something else entirely. It forces you to tighten your grip around her, your hand rising to cup the back of her head.

“It’s me.” She whispers, voice trembling with emotion, “it’s me.”

*

You don’t know how long you remain in the threshold of the front door holding on to one another. It could have been seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew is that you never wanted to let go.

You never thought you’d get to hold her again. Feel the weight of her body in your arms and take in her intoxicating smell that had once brought you so much comfort. She was everything and you wanted to remain in this moment, right here, right now, for the rest of your life.

“Let’s…” you swallow heavily as you reluctantly pull her away from you and bring your hands up to cup her cheeks. Your thumb trails softly over the skin; just as soft as you remembered despite the tears staining it. “Let’s go inside, okay?” You whisper with a tender smile, and Natasha nods as she gently grasps your wrists in her hands.

Her wary eyes flicker down to your lips, and your smile becomes a little more genuine as you lean forward and place them tenderly against her own. They were warm, and soft; a feeling you’d missed dearly.

She gasps softly at the sensation of your lips against her own as her hands move from your wrists and down your back until they come to rest on either side of your waist. Her touch litters your skin with goosebumps, the caress of her hands on you for the first time in months an indescribable feeling.

Her bottom lip slots perfectly in between your own, an action that lingers as you trace the tip of your thumb over her jawline before reluctantly pulling away and resting her forehead against her own.

Her soft breath hits your lips as she clings to the shirt either side of your waist, and you feel your eyes fill with tears all over again as you pull her body into your own before closing the door behind her. Now that you were encased in the privacy of your own home, you watch as Natasha finally allows herself to break.

It starts off small. Quiet, hitched breaths as her unfocused eyes fill with tears. But then slowly, gradually, it gets bigger. Her chest heaves, her breathing intensifies, and she lets out a loud, unstifled sob as she falls defeatedly into your arms. Your own bottom lip trembles as you pull her body flush against your own, hands slipping beneath her jacket to desperately clutch at her shirt.

You were desperate to feel her skin against your own.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” You attempt to sooth, knowing no words would ever be good enough but desperate to try. “You’re back. You’re safe, and I love you. More than you could ever imagine.”

**

Part 2?

@goldenempyrean @mywitchy-assassin @romanoffsbish

[visceravalentines]

sugar stuck in your teeth

They're grimy and tired and Benson's neck is sore. Randy gives him a shoulder rub and thinks hard about the allure of being a biological organism.

2.5k words. canon divergence, boys on the run. established relationship. implied sexual content, nothing explicit. sweat and oil and general nasty. sharing of a toothbrush. so fluffy i'm spinning it up and putting it on a stick and selling it at a carnival. read on ao3 here if that's more your speed.

They spend a full day on the road. Seven hours across Texas through scrub and sand. Nothing to see. No end in sight. Randy falls asleep in the dead-eyed sun of mid-afternoon and wakes up in the dark, dry air whipping through the car from Benson's window rolled all the way down. 

"Hey." Randy sits up, disoriented, mouth gummy and tasting of bygone Mountain Dew, bladder fit to burst. "Why didn't you wake me up? You've been driving for hours."

"Didn't want to stop." Benson's voice is rough. Randy can read the exhaustion in his posture, the way he grips the wheel with both hands. "Besides, you looked like you could use it."

Randy shifts in his seat. He hasn't slept well all week. "Well…it's my turn now. Let me take over."

"Nah." Benson rolls his neck slowly. "Town's up here in like ten minutes. Figure we stop for the night."

Randy peers through the bug-splattered windshield and sees lights in the near distance. "You wanna find a motel?"

"I'd fucking love a motel. Gimme that lukewarm shower and a box spring mattress. Fucking luxury."

As it turns out, they get none of that. The only place in town has a sign that says Closed and no lights on in the lobby. Doors all locked, despite Benson's best efforts to rattle them open. 

He doesn't say a word, doesn't even curse, just slumps defeated back to the car with Randy in tow. "You want the backseat or the front?"

"Benson, I slept for hours, I can–"

"There's not another town for forty miles and if I spend one more second on that fucking highway I'm gonna peel the skin off my face."

Randy doesn't argue. "I'll take the front."

"You sure?" Benson tosses a weary look at him over his shoulder. He squeezes the back of his neck and winces. 

Randy nods. "Yeah, I'm sure." 

The front sucks. You either have to fold your legs to fit around the steering wheel, or risk nailing the thing with your arm or your head. One time he hit the horn with his knee and scared them both so bad they ended up packing up and driving through the night because neither one could fall back asleep. 

He's had plenty of rest. Benson should get the back. 

They leave the car parked in the rear lot of the motel and pick their way through the scrub in the dark to take a piss, elbow-to-elbow. Randy barely feels self-conscious anymore. At the start he used to walk ten paces away and make Benson turn around. But that seems silly now. Benson's seen and touched every inch of him. This is nothing.

Benson zips up and takes off down the sidewalk with a haphazard sense of purpose. Randy has to jog a little to catch up. Benson holds out his arm and he ducks beneath it, the weight comfortable across his shoulders. By now Randy feels like he belongs there, pinned against his side. 

He reeks. They both do. It's been three, almost four days since they last had a shower, been making do with baby wipes and clean underwear since they left Tennessee. Randy almost can't stand it. Back home, he showered every day, sometimes twice a day if work was rough. Right now, he could scrape the grime off himself with a fingernail. 

He's adjusting to this level of awareness of his own body, like he's just now cognizant of the way his skin fits. It makes him sort of anxious. But he's coping. He doesn't really have a choice. 

And it's funny–Randy doesn't mind Benson's stench at all. He's uncomfortable with his own stink, but he actually thinks Benson smells kind of…good, maybe. In a gross kind of way. It's such a foreign concept that he keeps inhaling a little too deep at this distance just to prove it to himself. 

"What're you doing later?" Benson asks, oblivious. 

Randy clears his throat. "Um…not much." 

"Oh. Huh." Benson squints down the road towards the distant light of a gas station, the only thing in town that looks alive besides the two of them. "Well, how about I take you to dinner?" 

A smile steals its way onto Randy's lips. He hooks his pinkie into Benson's pocket. "That might be nice." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

Benson takes a deep, thoughtful breath. "There's this place…Seven-Eleven?" He casts a dramatic sidelong glance in Randy's direction. "You heard of it?" 

"Yeah, I…I think so." 

"It's just fantastic. The beer list? Unbelievable. And the atmosphere, well…there's really nothing like it." He's talking with his hands, throwing them off balance. Randy stumbles happily along with him. 

"I don't know, um…I've heard they don't have Pringles. Like, the big can. Just the little ones." 

Benson scoffs. "Well, now, don't you worry your pretty little head about that. You can get two of the little ones if you want. It's on me." 

"Wow." 

"I know." 

"That's–that's really generous." 

"Well, you're gonna have to put out." 

Randy coughs out a laugh, looks at his shoes to hide the heat in his face. "Sounds, um…sounds fair." 

"Randy, come on." Benson laughs, gives his shoulder a shake. "You're giving it up for two cans of Pringles? You gotta know your worth, man." 

He'd give it up for less, but that's beside the point. "Maybe toss in some peach rings and we have a deal." 

Benson gives him a squeeze. "Fuck yeah, alright. Now we're talkin'." 

They pick their way through the snack aisles of the gas station, select a few staples they aren't sick of yet. Benson salutes the clerk behind the counter like he's an American hero. They make their way back down the road to the motel in silence save for the crunching of chips and cellophane. 

It's a beautiful night, still warm from the sun, everything orange beneath the sodium streetlights. Not a soul in sight save for them. This town looks like every other one and Randy likes that, likes that it's starting to feel like coming home when they stop for the night in a new place with a single stoplight. 

They lean against the trunk of the Chrysler and pass the Big Gulp back and forth. It's too late for caffeine so they got root beer, extra ice, because Benson likes to fish it out and chew on it. There's too many streetlights to really see the stars, but that doesn't stop Randy from trying. He sucks the sour off a peach ring and feels a little bit nauseous and a lot filthy and an overall, bone-deep sense of contentment. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Benson twist his head, trying to roll out his neck again. It's not the sharp jerk of his familiar tic, not quite, but it makes Randy nervous. He's been doing it all night. He wonders if it was something he said, something he did. He still doesn't know what exactly he's trying to shrug off every time, but he knows enough to tread that ground lightly.

"You okay?" he asks, tries to make it casual. He swallows the peach ring whole and has to fight it all the way down his esophagus. 

"Yeah." Benson nods, winces slightly. "Yeah. Just sore." He grips the back of his neck and stretches, lips hitched in a grimace. 

Randy can imagine. Slumped in a car days on end, cracking the damn thing all the time. He sets the Big Gulp on the trunk, thinks, hesitates. Commits. 

"Would you, um…would you want me to rub it out for you?" 

Benson looks at him warily as he considers the offer. He's slow to answer, but Randy is patient. Doesn't push it. Lets him think about it. 

Finally he nods. "Sure. Why not." 

Randy clambers up on the trunk and sits behind him. Benson leans back between his legs, rests his elbows on Randy's knees, hangs his head forward. The space between them is awkward all of the sudden. Too close, not close enough. Too many clothes on. Too much skin exposed. 

Randy is nervous and he's not sure why. He thinks fleetingly of their first time, his first time, and the way Benson's hands hovered an inch over his skin and shook a little bit. This isn't that, but it feels kind of the same. "You can…tell me to stop if you want. Whatever you want. It's okay." 

"How about you start and then we'll see." 

Randy brushes the curls at the base of Benson's neck hesitantly with his thumb before he wraps his hand around the muscle of his shoulder, gives an experimental squeeze. "Right…there?" 

"Higher." 

He moves his hand up and tries again. "There?" 

Benson hisses through his teeth, cringes. "Yeah. Fuck." 

Randy sets his hands on either side of his neck and squeezes gently. 

"Yeah. Right there."

Benson's all tension beneath the skin, stiff and warm under his cold fingers. Randy thinks about the color of his muscles, the white of bone underneath them. He's pretty sure he's never touched anyone like this before, not even Benson, not like this. Not friendly or sexual, just…intimate. 

"If you want me to stop, just–just say so, okay?" 

Benson grunts an affirmative. His skin is oily and his muscles are taut as bowstrings, so riddled with knots it feels like buckshot lodged in his flesh. Randy presses his thumbs in deep and pushes up along his spine, again and again, feels a flush of satisfaction as Benson melts back against the car. 

"Fuck," he moans. 

"Hurts?" 

"Yeah. Don't stop." 

Randy's nothing if not good at taking orders. He falls into a rhythm, slow and steady, works over his neck and shoulders and back again. Benson swears up a storm and lets out a low whimper whenever he hits a sore spot. 

"Sorry," Randy murmurs every time. 

Benson never replies, but that's okay. He doesn't tell him to stop either.

At first his hands are balled into fists against Randy's knees, but after a while they go slack. He relaxes, finally, allows Randy and the car to support his weight. It's a selfish thought, but Randy hopes he's the first person to do this for him, or at least the first in a long, long time. Benson doesn't have a lot of firsts left. He wants this one. 

Before long, his hands are cramping and he worries he's going to rub his neck raw but doesn't want to stop touching him, doesn't want to forfeit this new familiarity with his body. So he eases up, cheats a little bit, combs his fingers through his greasy hair and scratches at his scalp. It makes his chest feel tight, the way Benson leans into his touch with his eyes closed and groans under his breath. 

When he finally pulls away, Randy tries to subdue his disappointment, until he turns around and reaches up to hook a hand behind Randy's head. 

"C'mere," Benson mumbles, tugging him close and meeting him halfway for a kiss that tastes like peach rings and root beer. Randy grips his forearm and for a second, in his mind's eye, everything drops out and disappears into the void, save for them and the car and the stars. 

When he breaks the kiss Benson doesn't let him go, holds him in place with their foreheads pressed together. Neither of them speak. Randy focuses so hard on Benson's breathing he forgets to breathe himself. There are words, but they creep by in silence like animals in the dark. 

"We still got water in the back?" Benson says at last. 

"Mmhm." 

"I'm gonna brush my teeth. Change into my jammies." His jammies are a pair of basketball shorts made of more holes than fabric. 

"Okay," Randy says. 

Neither one of them moves. The crickets chat amongst themselves in the brush. 

"You still want the front?" Benson asks. 

"Sure." 

"Thanks." 

"No problem." 

Benson sighs softly through his nose. He lets go of him and steps back, shuffles from one foot to the other and stares at Randy for a long time, hair sticking up in all directions. Finally he goes to dig through the backseat for the water jug. 

"Looks like a bunch of fuckin' raccoons live in here," he mutters. 

Randy chuckles, looks at his hands palm-up on his lap. He's got Benson's skin beneath his nails, his sweat and oil worked into the whorls of his fingerprints. He's never been so close to another person. Spent his whole life maintaining a safe distance from everyone around him, treating his body like a blast zone. Now the idea of distance is laughable. They share everything but toothbrushes. Hell, he's been inside him. Randy always figured he would never reach that level of connection with anybody. 

He brings his hand to his face and hesitates for just a second before he sticks his thumb in his mouth. The salt of Benson's sweat is familiar on his tongue. He tastes his skin on his skin. He knows him. He knows him. And Benson knows him right back. 

He's craved this sort of intimacy his whole life. Laid awake alone countless nights and ached for it, mourned bitterly for what he never had and assumed he never would. But now he lies awake with Benson beside him and basks in how wrong he was. In how real he feels in his arms, wearing a second skin of grit and spit and whatever else. 

He doesn't want to sleep in the front. 

Randy twists to call over his shoulder. "Hey…um, Benson?" 

"Yeah?" he says around his toothbrush. 

"You think we could…both fit in the back?" 

Benson spits on the asphalt. "No." 

"Well…could we try?" 

Benson snorts. "Fuckin' clingy, huh?" he says, but he sounds amused. Randy feels those dark eyes appraising him like a pair of hands fumbling at his clothes. He tugs absentmindedly at the collar of his shirt. Well, Benson's shirt. "Yeah. We can try." 

Randy hops off the trunk and joins him in the evening routine, bumping shoulders, bumping elbows, their voices small and close in the night. 

"Gonna sweat to death together back there," Benson says. 

"That's okay." 

"If you say so. Think I might skip the jammies. That cool?" 

"That's–that's fine, yeah. That's good. Hey…is that my toothbrush?" 

"No, yours is green."

"That is green." 

"No it's not." 

"Yes it is, the light makes it look weird." 

Benson looks at the thing again. "Oh. Whoops. Does it really matter?"

Randy gives this serious consideration, thinks about his mouth and everywhere it's been. Thinks about the state of the rest of him. Thinks about pressing his body to Benson's in the backseat, sticky with sweat, breath on his neck. 

He wants to say yes, it matters, but he doesn't feel it. He tastes salt on his tongue instead.

"I guess not," he shrugs.

Benson hands it to him. 

"Your turn, then." 

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Two

FROTTAGE / SEXUAL FRUSTRATION / VIRGINITY

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

Summary: After a conscious decision to stop dating, your friend invites you to fight night where more than one person catches your eye.

Rating: 12A?

Warnings: Mentions of dating/bad relationships, allusions to a non-monogamous relationship, language, drinking, teeny bit of masturbation, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.4k

Notes: When @absurdthirst announced their Kinktober 2023 list, I actually got inspired to start writing and I’m now taking the plunge by posting them online. It’s been a few years since I wrote smut so bear with me. If there is anything spoken in italics, it’s Santiago or Francisco speaking in Spanish, I didn’t want to just Google translate and butcher it. My brain also didn’t do this in numerical order hence why there is no Day 01 though this story seemed more of a fitting start.

I may not complete the entire list so be ready for sporadic updates, enjoy!

The story of how you ended up in an open relationship with four, rather handsome guys was a simple one.

You were lonely and horny but also indecisive.

Your notable chastity came after a series of shitty relationships and dates with men. After being ghosted, catfished and caught up in a quick partnership with a toxic dom, you had pretty much given up on the male species. Except, once a few months had passed, the sexual urge came back, you couldn’t fathom the strength to go out and find people but there is only so much a toy can do.

“A cage fight? What are we going to do at a cage fight?”

“I don’t know,” your friend spoke with a tone that indicated she knew something you didn’t. “But there will be plenty of men.”

You roll your eyes, she was desperate to get you back out there, she also knew you well enough to know fighting your sexual nature was soon going to become a struggle and she couldn’t handle the idea of another crap hook up for you.

“Fine.”

That evening you found yourself outside of town, in front of a sorry looking hanger with your friend waiting for the rest of the group, watching the slim picking choices of men. 

“If I wanted a frat boy, I could have just gone to that one bar.”

Your friend scoffed, “Frat boys are not the only option here.”

They weren’t but they seemed to be the better option. 

Every other man you saw, you wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. Amongst the Frat boys was portly bikers who could barely remain on their bikes, those who you could only describe as rednecks and guys so terrifying, the idea of approaching them didn’t even come to the forefront of your mind.

“How long do you think the girls are going to be?”

“Fashionably late,” she shrugs.

“There’s a strong possibility they’ll miss their guy.”

You have flashbacks to when you went to a concert and they arrived so late, they only made it in time for the main act. The pair of you had sworn never to attend anything with them unless you had your tickets and could make your way to the venue without them. Tonight, you were both a little worried about how they’d be when they turned up and in an event like this, they’d stand out in the crowd.

You hugged your frame, bobbing up and down on the balls of your feet.

“Could we just get them to message when they’re here?”

“We’ll give them another 20 minutes.”

The flurry of people thickened and you stood to one side to allow everyone to pass without having to go around you. You were watching the time pass by on your phone when your friend’s announcement interrupted you.

“They’re here.”

“Thank fuck.”

You raise your head, about to look passed the incoming audience when you caught sight of someone.

He has his head ducked low underneath a baseball cap, his outfit in shades of navy and grey, hands stuffed in tight jeans pockets. Under the brim, his brown eyes flicked up to yours like he knew he was being watched. A smile came to his lips, brightening his five o’clock shadow, the moment between you was brief.

He carried on walking and you kept your eyes in front, swallowing as you felt his gaze still on you.

“Are you ok?” Your friend queried.

“I’m fine.”

The temperature rises in your cheeks.

“Uh-huh.”

In the venue, the group of you squeezed into a middle row on one side of the cage. The rest of the girls had already arrived a little bit ‘squiffy’ as they put it and on the second round of drinks, you’d offered to head to the overcrowded bar.

You had spent the evening rejecting offers from all sort of men, the cheesiest chat up lines plugged to you in every kind of way - ‘when do you get in the ring’, ‘what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this’ etcetera, etcetera. Your mystery man was nowhere to be seen and you think he was just a figment of your imagination.

Pushing your way through the throng, you manage to grab onto the trim of the makeshift bar and haul yourself forward. You lean your weight on your elbows and wait patiently for one of the bar staff to finish serving another drunkard.

“So, what’s a little girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The way they said ‘little girl’ made your skin crawl, even the guy next to you clocked your discomfort.

“Out with friends and would rather be left alone, thank you.”

“Aw, come on, I just want to talk.”

“I’d rather not, I’ve had plenty of men try and talk to me tonight and I told them the exact same thing. Please leave me alone.”

There was movement behind you but you thought it best not to make eye contact. You felt the air pass your shoulder as the guy next to you threw up a hand and caught the other man’s wrist that was inches away from your body.

“Hey, she’s already asked you nicely to leave her alone.”

Oh god, was a fight going to start because of you?

The growing tension had your heart pounding and your knuckles became white as you held your nerve.

“Who are you, her boyfriend?”

“If I was, would it stop you harassing her?”

The man behind you mumbled something incoherently before squirming out of the guy’s grip and staggering away.

“Thank you,” you finally look his way, giving him a smile.

He smiled, giving you a gestured nod, “You’re welcome.”

Even in this light, he had baby blue eyes and delicate freckles along his cheek bones. His upper body was wide, holding it’s own against wave after wave of people coming in to wait along the bar.

“You have some pretty quick reflexes, are you sure you’re not meant to be in that cage?”

He laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, not my kind of thing. How about you? That look could have knocked him dead.”

“There’d be a lot bodies on the floor if it worked,” you quip. “I’m here as chaperone to the group of forlorn looking girls waiting for their man.”

His smile broaden, digging dimples into his cheeks.

“And who might that be?”

“Benny Miller,” you shrug.

You’ve been invited to watch him fight but actually have no fucking idea what he looks like, the girls have just been swooning about his ridiculous six pack.

“Really? He’s going to be thrilled.”

“You think?”

“I’m his brother, of course I know.”

You cock your head, eyebrows arching, maybe you could understand the fascination with this fighter if his brother is anything to go by.

“Oh god, how many Millers are there?”

His laugh is contagious.

“Only the two of us. If you count brothers in arms, there’s four.”

You should have guessed with those reflexes he was some sort of military.

Just as you’re about to speak, a bar man appears and he allows you to order your round first, five shots should come quickly. Juggling to get a grip of five tiny plastic glasses in two hands, you flash him another smile.

“Thanks…” You falter, “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Will.”

You introduce yourself and thank him again before slipping into the stream of people, excusing and apologising to anyone who got in your way.

“You were gone a while,” you friend said inquisitively after taking a shot of sour cherry flavoured liquor.

You hum, “I got harassed at the bar and Benny Miller’s brother stepped in as my knight in shining armour.”

She laughs, checking quickly to see if the other girls heard.

“What is with you tonight? First that guy at the entrance, now the brother.”

“His name is Will and I haven’t seen that other guy since.”

It was nice to know he wasn’t imaginary.

There were a few rounds before Benny’s, the girls squealing and looking away as two guys beat the living daylight out of each other. They shouldn’t have been there, too much blood, too much violence and too much sweat from the crowd washing over them and it wasn’t like they could talk either.

The break came and as the other girls insisted on another drink, you politely excused yourself to breath some cool outside air.

You refused the offer of a cigarette when you stepped out the doors, eyes flitting to see if there was an empty bench or some patch of grass where you could escape the huddle of people congregating. Wandering around, you found yourself at the side entrance of the hanger, a lone person leaning a brick low barring wall.

There couldn’t be any harm sitting with him, he seemed harmless enough.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man glanced over, brown curls flicking from under his cap.

“Go ahead.”

You side, jumping to rest your ass before taking a massive swing of water from the fountain you’d discovered on your way out.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

“No offence but you don’t seem one for violence.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You look too sweet and innocent,” he shrugged.

You hum, “Who says I’m innocent?”

He laughs, dropping his head before taking a swig of beer, eyes in front of him.

“I apologise.”

“That’s ok, I get what you’re saying, it’s been pretty brutal so far.”

His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, “I’ve seen worse.”

“Well, for the sake of the girls I’m with, I hope Benny Miller don’t get the shit beaten out of him.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t.”

He sounded so sure and that’s when your brain made the connection to what Will said earlier.

“You’re one of his brothers in arms, aren’t you?”

The man leaned back, placing one hand on his thigh, the little target tattoo on his hand stretching. He faced you now with a furrowed brow and parted lips, his eyes dark as you could see his mind working out how you knew.

“I bumped into Will at the bar.”

His expression seemed to soften.

“He told you about me?”

“Not specifically,” you winced, trying not to hurt his feelings. “We just got talking.”

The corners of his lips twitched, “He did mention meeting a pretty girl at the bar.”

You had to look away, your cheeks and chest immediately on fire, a spark that travelled your lower belly, spreading with desire. Will said you were pretty and he just clarified the comment, your friend was right, what is with you tonight?

He was just about to speak until the heavy swing of the door made you jump, he barely moved an inch.

“You better get you ass in here, Benny will lose his shit if you ain’t there to walk him in.”

For a brief moment, you couldn’t see who was attached to the voice but it was smooth.

They step out from behind the door and you saw the edge of a blue bomber jacket and the navy peak of a cap, his soft slopping nose and the five o’clock shadow along his sharp jawline.

Oh no.

It was if he caught something out of the corner of his eye, like he saw his friend and wondered why there was another person sat next to him, who was the other person sat next to him. His one eyebrow was arched, his lip straight until he recognised the face.

“Didn’t I catch your eye earlier?”

“I’m sure it was the other way round,” you remark wittily.

He smiled, nodding, “Agree to disagree.”

“If you say so.”

“Are you going to chat up all my guys tonight?”

He points between you and the other guy.

“I think you’ll find they keep chatting to me.”

He laughs, nodding again.

Both of the men shared a look, understanding each other though no word was exchanged, it was annoying yet somewhat enticing.

You wished you could know what they were thinking.

“Come on, Fish, he’s going on in a couple of minutes.”

He got up from the wall, abandoning the empty cup but he glanced one last time at you.

“Fish?”

“Nickname,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It’s Frankie to everyone else.”

You tell him your name and he smiles, nodding as he walked away. Frankie pats the other man on the back, stating ‘hermano’ and sauntering away, readjusting his cap before he disappeared into the venue.

Slipping off the wall, you went to say goodbye before he gestured for you to come through the back.

“Thanks.”

The door slammed behind him and he followed you, body unbelievably close, his breath mixing with the heat contained in the hanger.

“So, do I get to know your name?”

Glancing over your shoulder, he still has that soft smile, eyes roaming what was in front of him that caused goosebumps to arrive on your skin.

“No.”

You walked passed rows of lockers and tired wooden benches before he stopped, letting you walk a little further.

“Go to your left and follow the corridor to the double doors.”

You nod, “See you in there?”

His smile grew, “Sure.”

Following his instructions, the corridor felt like it went on for miles, the music muffled through the brickwork, the only sound your shoes squeaking on tiles. You were trying to wrap your head around what was going on, how had you met three guys in one night who all knew each other and seemed, to you anyway, to be caught in your gravitational pull? Or was your friend right, were you just that ridiculously horny after months of your own hand or toys?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before joining civilisation again.

“They wanted to get closer,” your friend said, rolling her eyes.

“Aren’t we technically in the splash zone now?”

“D’you think they’re bothered?”

She was right, the rest of the girls were far too gone to even worry about being covered in sweat, beer and possibly blood, all you prayed for is none of them got ahead of themselves and flashed the fighter at the worst time.

After Benny’s name got introduced over the speakers and the match started, you finally saw the other three from the group, distorted opposite by the wire hexagons that followed the cage. Even they were sensible enough to sit several rows back, they cheered and backed Benny the whole way through and when the opportunity arose, fleetingly looked to you.

A heat washed over your body.

“They said this is the way!”

The girls were giggling, tottering up the corridor as fast as they could in heels. You and your other friend held back, mostly to ensure you weren’t connected to the fangirls who were trying to find a battered and bruised man.

You pretended you didn’t know where the locker room was though you were there moments earlier, you couldn’t face the queries from your friend.

“He’ll be in here,” a friend beckons everyone over.

“And I’m out,” you hold your hands up. “I’m not sneaking into the boys locker room.”

“Really? I thought you’d quite like a photographic memory for tonight.”

You shake you head, “I have the internet for that.”

She laughs, nudging your hip.

“I’m just going to see how this all plays out.”

“Sure.”

She pushes you away and you stagger to an empty space on the wall, leaning against it and allowing the cold to spread across you back. Tipping your head back, you close your eyes, taking a breath.

“Don’t want to join your friends.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence.

“Do you always hang round in the shadows?”

He scoffs, “No.”

“I’d rather not be associated with,” you wave a hand. “Their actions.”

He moves to the wall opposite you, copying your stance, his smile curling as he can hear the chaos in the distance.

“You know it’s a shame,” he looked at you through the corner of his eyes. “He would have liked to have met you.”

You scowl, tilting your head.

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“Will and Fish are quite enamoured with you.”

“And you?”

Your heart was pounding, the blood rushing to your head. You were nervous to hear his answer, tongue sweeping over your dry lips and all he could do was smile, breaking eye contact.

“I don’t think you could handle me.”

You hum, “I like a challenge.”

He pursed his lips, cocking his head to one side.

“You look too sweet for me, honey.”

The way he said ‘honey’ was intoxicating, smooth with a hint of his Spanish pronunciation, it made your heart flutter. You push yourself off the wall and take a few steps over to him, folding your arms across your chest, standing tall.

You look him up and down, your expression scrunching, you’d seen someone like him before not exactly like him but they all appear the same.

“Maybe that’s just what you need… A good girl who’ll do as she’s told.”

He turned to face you, eyes almost black and you swallowed. His smile crocked into a smirk, he noticed the falter in your otherwise firm stance. Moving his body close, he leaned forward, hands placed to his hips. He brought his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Then give me your phone.”

You do as you’re told, unlocking the screen as you hand it over.

Taking it in one hand, he gives you space and taps away before giving it back. You check the details on the phone.

Santiago Garcia is a new contact.

“Give us a message if you need anything.”

You blinked at the screen then up at him, his face had softened.

“I’ll hold you to that, Santiago.”

He winked and walked away, out of your vision, he shooed the girls away.

—

“So, did ask her?”

The guys had driven to a late night diner after the match, part of Benny’s post match routine was stuffing his face with a load of carbs.

“Not quite,” Santiago took a bite of a fry. “I gave her my number.”

Benny practically made a raspberry noise like a child.

Santiago shook his head, throwing his hands up, “The balls in her court.”

“You should have just asked her.”

Frankie took a swig of his coffee, “This isn’t the kind of thing you just walk up and ask, she would have run a fucking mile.”

Benny pointed with his fork, “This is why I should have done it.”

Frankie burst into laughter, Santiago and Will shaking their heads, he has no fucking idea.

“What?”

“There’s no way she would have taken the offer from you,” Will was trying to contain his laughter, cheeks turning a faint hue of pink. “I trust Pope, the balls in her court now.”

Benny ladled the last of his food onto his fork, “Do you think she’ll bite?”

Santiago was praying to every god that you did even though he was far from religious. This is the first time back since he felt anything, it was unusual that he found himself vying for attention with the other boys.

This was new territory for him and he’s done a lot of shit.

He thinks back to the conversation with you, he didn’t expect what came out of your mouth and it was like the lure of a siren to a sailor. It’s why he reconsidered you as an option. Sure, you cracked a little when he got close yet who wouldn’t and that’s when he guessed you may have seen it before.

His fingers have been twitching to check his phone all night.

“You’re guess is as good as mine.”

And you were laying in bed contemplating whether it was too early to message him.

After the fight, you thought you’d just go home and crash, you thought wrong.

Stripping off, you decided to take a shower to get rid of the grime from the night. You had an idea you were wet, you just didn’t realise how much your arousal had pooled. There was so many factors you could blame - several matches where two sweaty, semi dressed men were in close proximity to each other, three men’s eyes watching you and your eyes met, Santiago centimetres from your face.

The water fell soothing down your skin and you settled two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently. Closing your eyes, you pictured the fine details, the blonde of Will’s hair, the wideness of Frankie’s hand, the musk of Santiago’s aftershave.

You dragged your fingers along your folds, gasping as you sunk them into your burning cunt.

It was embarrassing how quickly you came to the thought of them, you hands reaching for the cool tiles of your bathroom as your legs threatened to give way. Your breath was shaking, your body vibrating as the warmth travelled up your spine.

“Fuck.”

A message popped up on your phone from your friend, hoping that you had a good night, the winking face emoji a hint to the boys. Messaging now seemed desperate, your teeth grazed you lip.

Rolling over, you prayed that sleep would take you.

You decided against messaging Santiago in the morning, you were groggy and unmotivated with suggestions of a possible meet up would fall on deaf ears. It was in the afternoon, after some good food and a walk in the fresh air that you felt ready.

‘And when you say anything, what did you have in mind?’

That was the question that lead you to the bar tonight.

As it was a dive bar, or so you and your friends believed, you didn’t wear anything fancy however it didn’t mean you under dressed. You wore a dress that accentuated the curves of your body, hiding it with an oversized jacket and trainers. Taking a breath, you pushed through the doors, the vision of Santiago stood at the bar ordering.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m fashionably late,” you retort, taking a note out of your friends’ books.

He laughed, “What are you drinking?”

He bought you a drink and you went to join the boys at the table, finally being introduced to Benny.

“I was kind of insulted you didn’t want to meet me but I’ll forgive you.”

The five of you talked about everything and anything, you learned that Frankie was a pilot, Santiago chased cartels for years after being in the military because he couldn’t stand still and the Miller brothers spent their youth on a family farm. After food and another round, Benny decided that it was the perfect time to get the conversation rolling on to why you were here.

“Are we gonna do this or not?”

He was straight to the point.

“Christ, Benny,” Will could have kicked him under the table. “Always thinking with that dick of yours.”

You guessed the implication would be something sexual, you got that from Santiago last night but his text gave you nothing, actually the whole evening gave you nothing. It was just nice to be in the company of four very different yet very attractive men who hadn’t push any boundaries.

Frankie lifted his cap and ran his fingers through brown curls, his focus pulling to Santiago.

“You want to start? You’re better with words.”

It’s also more his kind of thing, is what he left out, but it wasn’t easy.

Your eyes flicked to every man around the table. Frankie couldn’t make eye contact, Benny glanced between you and Santiago while Will seemed to be the calmest of the lot.

“We got talking yesterday about a girl we saw at the fight and it turns out we were talking about the same one. Now, the guys haven’t really done this before, I’ve shared before but not quite like this —“

“Wait, did you just say shared?”

It was alarmingly hot all of the sudden.

“Yes, I did,” he rubbed the scar along his neck.

Frankie chuckled to himself, “I guess there is no easy way of saying it.”

Santiago could see your mind working overtime, the knot in your brows tightening. Your lips opened before you stopped and thought over your words again.

“Do you guys want a five way?”

You wouldn’t complain if they did.

Benny and Santiago’s brows seemingly raised.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Will lowered his tone, closing in on you so his frame blocked the rest of the bar from your vision. “We’re thinking more, we share you out evenly, four ways.”

You blink, tongue running over your dry lips, just the thought alone had settled between your thighs.

“So, a different guy every night?”

“If you want,” Benny chimed in.

Santiago shrugged, “I was thinking more of a weekly schedule.”

That would make sense.

Your mind was processing the concept, it could be good, yet it could also be bad, catastrophically bad. That’s what happened with that dom, they made all these promises, that they’d buy you all these rewards and gifts if you did what they wanted, they never came. They had you running round in circles, doing a load of shit you thought you wanted to do when in actuality, you didn’t. They manipulated you until you finally said no and then they gaslighted you into thinking it was all your fault when it never was.

Could these guys do that too?

“What are you thinking, querida?” Frankie broke through the silence.

“Just the string of bad relationships that came before this,” you take a swig of your drink, catching his puppy dog eyes. “Not that I’m saying this is a bad idea, it’s just…”

You chose your words carefully.

“I’d need to see the terms and conditions.”

He nodded, “That’s fair.”

“I’ll get the papers to you in the morning,” Santiago joked.

“I better not see any spelling mistakes or the deal’s off.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Will’s my copywriter.”

You tried to keep the upper hand but you broke, the smile cracking on your lips.

“Sooo, is that a yes?”

Benny’s eyes were darting from person to person, this conversation was too cryptic for him, he wanted a firm answer.

“It’s a maybe.”

He pouted, nodding, “I’m taking that as a positive, celebratory shots on me.”

The rest of the boys groaned as he slipped out of the booth towards the bar, Will apologising for his brother’s enthusiasm given the fact you didn’t give a solid ‘yes’. You thought you’d pretty much ruled men out and then suddenly the universe had gifted you four of them.

Maybe this was the end of that dry spell, the possibility of your sexual awakening and more and honestly, you didn’t mind at all.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

since your all things killer sans, I have something to think about

Does stage 3 and 4 have a name? Becuase I know stage 2 is killer and stage 1 is sans. Do they have a name? Or is this a system thing where their both named the same thing, their name is also killer, kinda like how systems can get multiple altars of the same thing or same character

Or they do and I'm just being an idiot-

Anyways that's all good bye, enjoy your day!👋

Killer Sans is not a canonical system, although he shows signs of an implied dissociative disorder. Not all dissociative disorders are DID, OSDD-1, or anything with alters or systems.

Also unlikely that Killer himself would know what he has—just that he experiences dissociative states he calls himself, but different enough in some way to warn others in Stage 1 (closest to Sans, but still uncertain if he is sans or not) to not trust him “when he’s like that” (stage 2) or kill him (stage 3.) His thought process is shown to be fragmented, and he relies on these for help on making choices it seems—when no one is around to tell him what to do.

Ultimately just what exact dissociative disorder Killer Sans has is completely up to fandom interpretation. We unfortunately don’t got a lot of canon information on Killer’s Stages—mostly 3 and 4–so you are free to interpret as you will.

If you go with the system interpretation, I feel it important to remember that not all alters need, want, or have different names, or a name at all. Also common in conditioned or ‘programmed’ systems, or systems formed under RAMCOA conditions. I don’t feel qualified to speak much on these types of systems so I won’t, especially when it’s very easy to spread misinformation.

If you want to give them different names, or nicknames, or the same names, or keep their numbered names—3 and 4, Stage 3 and Stage 4, etc.—go ahead.

I personally go with an OSDD-2 interpretation for Killer’s dissociative disorder. This means dissociative identity loss, confusion, and/or disturbance due to thought reform, torture, prolonged intense coercive persuasion, brainwashing, conditioning, programming, indoctrination, recruitment by terror organizations or sects. Results in prolonged changes in or conscious questioning of one’s identity and beliefs.

They become who they need to be to survive in and cope with a dangerous environment and an unbearable reality. Often to the benefit of their abusers and captors.

This is a disorder often found in adult survivors of cults, terrorist organizations, prisoners of war, hostages or those held captive for a long time. A great example, if fictional, of OSDD-2 is Bucky Barnes/the Winter Soldier.

The movies didn’t give him a lot of focus or give his years upon years of trauma enough focus or attention, didn’t handle it with care at all, bypassed the actual deprogramming process by completely getting rid of his Winter Soldier programming and conditioning immediately, but he’s still a good example.

If they hadn’t just had all his programming removed via magical science fuckery, he’d likely still struggle with his identity as Bucky Barnes (who he is free from hydra), the Winter Solider (the fist of hydra, the asset, who and what hydra made him into), and the person he was before the fall off the train.

Certain things would cue and trigger him to view, think, and react exactly how he would as if he were in the environment that created the asset even if he still may be aware he isn’t in the same environment anymore. Such as being completely unable to refuse an order from handler as soon as his trigger words are uttered.

Of course Bucky Barnes and Killer Sans are very special cases that couldn’t exist in real life due to the nature of their worlds—magic, souls, aliens, extremely advanced technology that was capable of wiping Bucky’s memory and forcing him to rebuild a new identity from the ground up every time—not to mention their absurdly long lifespans and immense amount of trauma.

Bucky was kept alive for what, around 90-100 years? Given the super soldier serum or something, kept frozen to keep his body young and fit and only unthawed for mission assignments and making sure his programming still worked.

Killer was kept alive and died through Determination and the Resets for who knows how long. The brain (and in Killer’s case, SOUL), and body will do whatever it thinks it must to survive and cope. Even if it doesn’t exactly fit known science/psychology because both of these characters defy all that noise.

{ @nightmarefandom }

[megumiatethetable]

゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ಇ | (@𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞)

note: hiiiii this is my first drabble about choso here on tumblr. i apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes, try not to mind them too much. enjoy!

tags: self conscious!choso x reader, gn reader, confession, soft!choso, gentle reader, friends to lovers.

word count: 1.2k

゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。.

The two of you are sitting at your favorite hanging spot. It's a hill covered in grass over your favorite park, presenting the lake and trees before you. You had begun coming here initially to teach Choso a way to hang out with other people, as he still was clueless on how to do so; but ended up coming almost every other day with him.

After getting to know Choso for a few months, you found out the great company he could be. Despite perceiving him as lonely and cold at first, you grew to understand the type of person he really was.

You had tries countless attempts to befriend Choso, and he yielded up until to a certain point. However, what you wanted with Choso was far more than just a friendship. It was impossible not to fall in love with such a careful, adorable, and sweet person.

"I just don't understand..." The half-curse says. He's looking out the horizon. You recognize this as Choso being too anxious to make eye contact with you. He usually did this when you first met.

"What is it?" You ask him.

He seems to think carefully before speaking again. "Why...why are you here with me?"

You tilt your head in slight confusion. You´ve joked about your weird friendship a few times before, it was no mystery that you liked sharing your time with Choso. "Hmm? What do you mean, Cho? We always come here after dinner."

"No, that's not what I meant." Choso replies. "I mean to ask...why are you here with me out of everyone else? Why am I more deserving of your time than the rest of them?" His voice trailed off into a whisper by the end of the sentence. "I'm nothing more than a freak."

You sat back with your back a little straighter this time, turning around to face him. You had totally missed the sad undertone of his voice. "Choso..." you reach out to touch his arm, but he flinches away.

"I haven't understood up until now why you´ve tried so hard to get closer to me." He explains, he stares at the moving waves of the lake. "This is not to be taken as ungratitude for you, no, that´s not what I feel at all. But...why? Why do you wanna hang out with me like this? Why do you smile as if you enjoy our conversations? Why do you bring joy into my life when you don't have to? What exactly is the reason behind all of this?"

Taken aback by the raw pain in his voice, you move to sit in front of him, so Choso has no choice but to look at you this time. "Cho, please look at me." You tell him, gently laying your hands on his arms.

He looks up, and you can immediately sense the fear in his eyes. Fear of rejection. And for the first time, you realize how hard it must have been for him to live around both human and curse, yet be accepted entirely by none.

"When I met you, I couldn't help but be in awe of you. You were both a human, and a curse, yet you had the biggest heart out of anyone I've ever met before." You begin, swallowing back your own nerves. This catches his eye and he looks confused. Since when where you this shy in front of him? "It's true, you are different from others, and that's what drew me to you. The way you talk about your brothers, the way you're protective over those you care about, how careful you are whith your words..."

Your eyes are drawn to his own, small hazel-colored eyes. "You're incredible, Cho. I want to be closer to you, because you're interesting to me, and I want to get to know you better and teach you about the world."

The brunette still hasn't moved away from your touch, and you realize how solid his arms feel under your palms. You try to dissipate the blush that suddenly starts spreading over your cheeks by looking back at the horizon. It's the sunset over the lake, what you pretend you are watching, but you can feel Choso's eyes on you.

"You shouldn´t think that way about me." He says quietly.

"Well, I do."

For a moment he looks back at the lake, the trees, the park. Anything else but you, because it hurts him the most, the sight of you, hurts him the most. To think about you that way and how things could never work out.

A bitter taste floods Choso's mouth before he speaks. "We can't. I'm just a curse who's slightly more human, I don't...I don't deserve you. Don't deserve your care." He shakes his head, and looks away again. He can't tolerate the idea of being worth any ounce of love in this world, beside his brothers'. "The amount of people I've hurt, they make me just a curse. I'm no better than any of them. So why—?"

You reach out again, catching his hand, grounding it before he begins inflicting himself any pain. You've seen Choso do it before, scratching at his own neck, out of anxiety and fear. "You defended your brothers out of love, something a curse doesn't feel."

"No. That's different." He still doesn't seem to be listening, he doesn't want to believe it. "The way you trust me, how you care about me. If you keep doing this, I'll..." he stops for a moment. Choso's too scared to say the next part. "We can't, we shouldn't."

This time, the half-curse doesn't stop your hand from reaching out to his face. How you trace his cheek, and jawline, as he swallows. "I'm not deserving of your love." He whispers, but his eyes can't leave yours.

And despite all of his hurtful words towards you, he hasn't moved an inch away from you. If anything, his eyes are begging you not to let go of him. Choso can only slightly shake his head as you lean in to his lips. "I'm sorry." You whisper, all before kissing him.

The moment your lips land on his, he pulls you against him, his body melting against you. Choso's arms gently holding you, his hand moving up to touch your own. You feel his fingertips shaking, as they hold your hand.

"I love you," You confess against his lips, between kisses. “I love you, Cho."

It had been impossible not to fall for him during this time you'd been getting to know him. How you'd both found trust with each other, and how protective he’d grown over you. You wanted him to be yours only.

Choso pulls away to cup your face and look into your eyes. “I love you so much more than you can imagine.” He whispers, so quietly you can barely hear him. “And now that I have you like this, I don’t wanna ever let you go.”

You throw your head back and laugh as Choso pulls you into a warm embrace. You can feel him flustering against you. “I’m serious.” He says into the crook of your neck. "You're stuck with me now."

"I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else," You tell him, smiling and kissing along his cheek and curse mark, enjoying Choso blushing under your lips. "My Choso."

゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。. 。・゜゜ ・ 。.

˗ˏˋ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐸𝑛𝑑 ˎˊ˗

@𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒): 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

[kaimxri]

Means To An End (pt II)

Lucien x Reader (she/her)

Part I

Warnings: ooc Azriel

Wordcount: 3K

A/N: Wow! Didn't expect that reaction for part 1! Here, I wrote this up this morning:) Oh, and sorry for the ending;)

Lucien

To deny a bond is to defy fate. To tell The Mother she was wrong in her choice.

My conversation with Y/N had left me sure of my decision. I cannot by led along by a female who does not want me as I am only hurting myself. I know what Elain wants, even if she does not wish to admit it to herself. She is in love with Azriel, and the only thing holding her back is me. To deny the bond would be the biggest gift I could give to my mate. A chance at her own happy ending.

It wasn’t hard to find the middle Archeron sister. She had been tending to her garden as she does every day. Just as she is in her usual spot, so is the spymaster. Standing over her shoulder as if to protect her soft skin from the sun’s harmful rays. My entrance to the garden is noticed by a loose shadow, scrambling to alert their master of his rival in love. Azriel’s shoulders tense as he turns to look at me, but his eyes lose their glare as he notices my downtrodden expression.

“Please,” I ask, “I wish to speak with Elain.” He could pick up on the low tone of my voice, and leaves without argument. I take this time alone with Elain to memorise all of which would no longer by mine by the end of this visit. Her fingertips grazing the silken petals, her blushing cheeks, her peach lips… I nearly changed my mind, but as she turns to lock her gaze with mine my doubts are quietened. There is no love in her gaze, only pity.

“I am going to reject the bond, Elain.” My words escape before my mind can stop them. My mind had taken over from my heart, as if it was the only thing conscious enough in her presence. Her eyes had widened slightly, and she almost looked worried. Her beautiful doe eyes start to fill with tears. I understood they were not of love lost, but of loss of me.

“I do not understand Lucien. Have I- have I not said that I am still making my decision? I am so sorry if- I haven’t decided between you both yet. Please, I haven’t decided.”

“That is why I am making the decision for you. One of my dearest friends has noticed a… decline, in my emotional state. She made me realise that I am worthy of a love that chooses me above all and anyone else. Please, take this as my final gift to you. You are free to love your shadow singer. Please, give me the gift of freedom in return, Elain. That is all I ask.”

A cloud of fury washes the tears from her face. Her cheeks flush with anger, her brows furrow.

“It is Y/N, isn’t it? She is the one who told you to deny the bond. Do not listen to her. She is just desperate to make Azriel love her. So deep in her own despair over not being loved that she wishes to cause others that same pain. She is a miserable spinster who is just jealous that no one will ever love her the way Azriel loves me.”

“How dare you say that Elain. Y/N helped me realise what you have been doing to me, she didn’t make me do anything. You knew of her feelings for Azriel and yet you kept pushing with him? I do not even know who you are anymore. I am rejecting the bond, and I am leaving. You cannot stop me. Nothing you can say will change my mind.”

“What if I told you I love you?”

“Then that would make you a liar. I wish you well Elain. Truly.”

With that, I had left behind my mate.

Y/N

Lucien returned to my chambers that evening with his own two bags. We spent the night in a platonic embrace. The soft kisses from the sun wake us from our restless slumber. A reminder of what loss we are going to go through. Lucien and I sneak through the house before any other residents rise and catch us. As we reach the hallway, I drop my goodbye letter on the table besides the porch. We turn and take in all that we are to leave behind. Memories good and bad.

My first time with Azriel.

My last time with Azriel.

My silent goodbye to Azriel is whispered across the empty hall, hoping it does not crawl up the stairs into the spymaster’s room. Before I can crawl too deep into the dark depths of my mind, Lucien takes hold of my clenched hand and leads us through the large oak door. We do not look back as the gold of Lucien’s winnow cascades over us like starfall.

The Day Courts warmth was starkly different to the cool temperatures of the Night Court. The blue of the sky gave me hope. A new hope that doesn’t revolve around my very being used for another’s dreams.

The golden doors of the Day Court palace are inviting. Lord Helion remains within the threshold of his home, large arms spread in welcome. A grin breaks across his face. I sprint up the marble stairs towards my dear friend, having not seen him for many months. With all the tensions amongst the courts it is hard to have clear entrance to and fro. As I reach his embrace, Helion’s calm aura falls upon me. My head soothes and my heart only thumps out of love for my friend.

“How are you my dear?” His deep voice rumbles. Warmth seeping through his tone. His hand falls to my cheek, thumb rubbing across my skin. I attempt to meet his eyes but it is hard to catch them with their constant darting over my flushed skin. I prayed to the Gods that my emotions had not betrayed me, however I knew that tear tracks had still left their faint marks amongst my skin.

“How do you think dear Helion? Is it often that females of other courts come rushing into your arms seeking solace?”

He chuckles.

“Are you sure you wish me to answer that? We both know I have many a female rushing to my arms. Males too.” His cheeky wink breaks the final piece of tension lingering in my body. I knew then that my decision was the right one. “I see you brought the lovely Lucien too! Perhaps we should be renamed the Lonely Hearts Court, no?”

Lucien finally reaches us at the entrance of the palace. I sent him an apologetic glance for leaving him with all our bags, though I’m sure the male didn’t mind the chance to show off his strength. Helion reaches his arm out towards Lucien, bringing us to a three-way hug. This was what I had needed. To feel wanted to by my friends, without any underlying needs.

“And you, my friend? I heard about your… situation. I wish I could offer some advice. All I can offer is the chance to breathe and hopefully move on from those who linger in your past.”

“I believe that is all I need, Helion. The chance to rest and move on. I know I will never forget, and my soul will always feel the absence of the other half, but with time I hope to dull the pain.”

“Dear Lucien… A mate is not the means to an end. Your soul will only remain empty as long as you keep it empty. Sure, the female is your soul-twined mate, but who is to say she is the only one to make you feel whole? I have not yet met my mate, but I do not live my life half living due to the fact. If I did meet my mate and they were to reject me, I would not feel sadness. I would feel content, for I have loved many times before. Each one a happy memory. My soul is full, I do not need another to make me feel whole”.

The more Helion talks, the more I see the relation between himself and Lucien. Of course, I had heard the rumours floating amongst the inner circle. Of how the High Lord of The Day Court had in fact fathered the son of Lord Beron of The Autumn Court. These were simply just rumours but standing amongst the two males show the rumours are founded on some truth.

As the conversation reaches its natural end, Helion gestures for us to follow him into our home for the foreseeable future. The grand staircases curved along the walls, outlining the magnificent foyer. Plush red sofas framed a mahogany table, adorned with a golden globe. We follow Helion up the left staircase and down a long hall. Picture frames line the walls depicting the Lords who came before Helion. As we reached the end of the hall, the area opened up to an open living space. A fire crackled away in the hearth making the space feel cosy. Books lined the walls from top to bottom. Two large sofas, and one armchair sit snug together underneath a golden chandelier, and on opposite sides of the room sits two doors. Helion simply gestured for me to go towards the door on left, Lucien to the right.

As I cracked upon the double door, sun rays catch in my eyes temporarily stealing my sight. Pushing farther into the room, a gasp is caught in my throat. The walls are painted a mixture of my favourite colour and white. A large walk-in wardrobe sits empty, waiting for me to fill it and call it my own. Even more books adorn the shelving dotted across the area. A comfortable, plush, tall-back armchair sits in the corner near the unlit fireplace. And finally, the large four-poster bed. A multitude of pillows decorate the blue-green blankets. Sheer curtains fall from the wooden frame of the bed. It calls for me to fall into the depths of its warmth, never to emerge again.

This place already feels like home.

Helion leaves us to settle into our new shared living space. I am grateful that he gave us our own area so we can help each other to heal. I’m not too sure I can face anyone but Lucien and Helion for the moment. As I sit on top of my new armchair the motions of the morning finally catch up to me. I have truly left Azriel behind without so much as a goodbye. Would he even notice my absence? Surely not if Lucien has denied his bond with Elain. She would have told him by now. Perhaps they are together, celebrating their own bond. Well, good for them, I guess. At least they get to be happy.

As evening falls, Lucien and I find ourselves in Helion’s private dining area. A smaller oak table sits in the centre of the intimate area. Whilst the food is served, light conversation starts. Small talk of places Lucien and I should visit. Helion’s plans for the next few days. How we feel as though we have settled in quite well. We almost feel like a family.

We leave the table that night feeling renewed. With a new sense of purpose.

Silently agreeing to spend the evening reading in silence with each other’s presence and the warm fire to keep us company. I almost reach for a romance book, before stopping short and selecting a mystery book. As I fall into the world of lies and questioning, I fail to notice Lucien’s eyes fall upon myself. The mystery dives deeper, answers coming forth. It’s when I reach the end of the book, still reeling from the reveal that it was the investigator who did it, that I hear Lucien softly call my name.

“Yes, Lucien? Are you alright?” He had looked almost faraway, lost in thought. I am a selfish female for I hadn’t thought once today of how he must feel. Sure, I left behind an unrequited love. But he left behind the one that was destined to be his.

“I am doing alright considering the circumstances. I feel free to be honest with you. Like the burden of the bond is no longer wearing my soul heavy. It’s almost like I can see things in a new light…” His face picks up slightly. His trademark grin comes shining onto his face, looking relaxed for the first time in months. This break will do him well.

“I understand, I feel the same way. It’s nice to not know what they’re doing, and to know they’re not going to hurt us unknowingly anymore. We are going to be happy here Lucien, I just know it.” I reach forwards to grab hold of his hand. His thumb brushes against my own. Despite the softness of the caress, his eyes harden a touch.

“Y/N, I must be honest with you. When I spoke with Elain this morning, she made it known that she does in fact know of your affections towards Azriel… I can only assume that he too knew of your feelings. I am so sorry that he was still with you, knowing that he was causing you pain. Anyone who could do that to someone is not worthy of anyone’s time, especially not yours. You deserve someone who puts you first because that is what you do. You could have told me to keep pursuing Elain, knowing in fact that our ‘relationship’ is to be a dead end. Knowing that whilst Elain is pre-occupied with me, the shadow singer would still fall to you. But you didn’t do that. Instead, you encouraged me to make my own choice to leave her, to push her in his direction. I truly admire you, Y/N. You mean a great deal to me.”

My eyes well up with tears. No one had ever spoken so highly of me. Truth dripped from every sweet word he spoke to me. His eyes dug deep into my own, searching for the opening of my soul to pour all the praise deep into its empty cavern. Perhaps I could have told Lucien to keep pursuing Elain, but I knew in the depths of my heart that would not be right. Everyone in this situation would remain suffering. It was best to remove those who stood as barriers between those who wished to be together. Lucien and I could re-build ourselves, whilst Azriel and Elain wallow in their love. We would be okay, and they would be happy.

“You mean a great deal to me too, Lucien. But I only mentioned something with which you already knew you needed to do. You said so yourself, if it weren’t for the bond Elain would be with Azriel. It was incredibly brave of you to take that first step, to break the bond for yourself and for them. I promise to be here for you every day. To build you back up, to be a shoulder to cry on… Whatever you need, I will be here.”

“And I too will be here for you.”

We squeeze our hands together yet again, sending love down through our intwined fingers.

“Perhaps it is time for bed, Lucien. It has been a long day and we seem to be rather weepy right now!”

“It seems it is time for bed. Shall I walk you to your door?” He jests. I take him up on his offer anyway and lead him over to the double doors that hold my new sanctuary.

“This is me,” I joke, “When can I see you again oh noble one? These hallways do not feel safe without your presence!”

“Whenever you wish to see me fair maiden, simply call my name and I shall be with you at the brush of a breeze,” His face falls a bit as a melancholy look glides across his eyes, “Elain never let me walk her home. I felt as if she would not let me perform basic duties of courting. She rarely let me see her at all. I never truly had a chance, did I?”

“Oh Lucien, come here,” I pull his body into my arms, “She is the fool in this situation. How could she not see the amazing male in front of her? No, you didn’t have a chance with her. Because she had no chance with you. I am sure you will fall in love someday, and she will love you more than life itself. Because you are the sun Lucien, and what is life without the sun?”

He pulls back from the embrace. Eyes gliding across my own.

His hands fall upon my hips. A moment of hesitation. His lips landed on my own.

Memories came surging painfully through my mind.

“Elain!” His hands were on my waist.

“Gods, Elain.” His lips on my neck.

“Don’t stop, you feel so good Elain.” His leg between my thig-

My hands were on his chest, pushing with enough force to make him stumble over his feet. Tears poured from my eyes, my arms wrapping across my chest to act as a barrier to my heart. Lucien looked startled. His face was pale as a sheet. He raised his hands to show he means no harm, but the damage is already done.

“What are- what are you doing Lucien?” My voice had betrayed my weakness, shaking against the face of the man who now blurs between himself and the shadows that haunt my dreams.

“I don’t know- Y/N please, listen to me. I got caught up in the moment. I am not him; I will never do what he-“

“I do not wish to be another males vessel to forget Elain Archeron,” I turn towards the door of the living area, “Goodnight Lucien.”

Lucien

My heart ached as I watched her door slam in my face.

For I had seen the world in a new light.

And that light shone upon her darling face.

Y/N.

[simonsrosebud]

hi, i just wanted to say how much i love your next gen socmed au!

could you give us more information on amalia day and how her relationships are(with her parents, stepfathers, significant others)

yes!! i love her sm

Amalia & Kevin

Despite the stern, impolite, and brash Kevin that we see in aftg, the Kevin that raises Amalia is almost a complete opposite

Kevin and Thea have split custody of Amalia, but Kevin has her a lot more often. She grows up in Kevin’s shadow, but he is very protective of her when it comes to his fame because he decided before she was even born that he did not want the same kind of childhood for her.

Amalia has Kevin’s determined and focused expression, the one that often mimics Wymack’s on the sidelines.

She also has Kevin’s resting bitch face, which Andrew is the one to point it out to Kevin, it leaves him speecsshless.

Amalia is a daddy’s girl and it’s always “daddy do it!” when him and Thea were still together.

Kevin carried her until shded literally got too big to carry, she’s his little girl and he surely treats her like the little princess she is.

Stern with her when need be because someone has to.

Ultimate sports dad. Goes to every single game of hers and cheers her on like all the other dads. Wymack, Jean and Jeremy relegate him to being a normal person about her playing exy instead of being kevin days daughter. Jeremy bc he’s seen the damage it can do, Jean bc he never got a choice in his future and needs to ensure she does, and Wymack bc he’s his voice of reason.

Kevin is the one who she goes to to complain and hear what she wants to hear, because Kevin is smart with his words when it comes to her.

Kevin is the one who teaches her to drive- the only one she lets because Jeremy is not a good driver and Jean doesn’t have the patience.

He takes her to shop for prom dresses with Abby and Amalia’s school friend. He gets teary eyed once she disappears back inside to take off the winner. She looks so much like his mother it hurts.

When Amalia is truly heartbroken over her relationship with Thea (because she sees how Katelyn Minyard is with the twins, how her friends are with their moms) then she cuddles with Kevin, something she hasn’t done to this extent in a few years, and falls asleep in his bed.

Amalia has Kevin’s stubbornness and hard headedness, his determination and confidence.

Amalia & Jeremy

Jeremy is the one that Amalia goes to when she wants something because more often than not he will say yes (within reason of course)

Jeremy is also the one that Amalia goes to when she fucks up and is scared of the consequences because Jeremy is the most patient of the three and operates by calmly talking things out and discussing what will probably happen while also making it clear that she has to tell the others or he will.

He is the one that she curls into and cries to when Thea doesn’t text her until 7pm for her 17th birthday, and who she confides in when someone in 8th grade questions her about her 3 dads and she doesn’t know what to say.

Jeremy and her go to the movies often and it’s their thing. They love Marvel movies and House of the Dragon (shut up ab timelines) and spend like 20 minutes after movies and weekly episodes debating and theorizing what this meant or what will happen next or what movie could come next.

Amalia and Jeremy share the same humor that he, Cat and Laila always had. They’re both silly and lighthearted and laugh with their whole bodies, a mimicked thing from over the years.

Amalia has Jeremy’s gentle heartedness and easy joy.

Amalia & Jean

^But Jean’s honesty and ability to verbally rip someone to shreds.

Jean is the most conscious of not stepping on Kevin and Thea’s toes when he and Jeremy get reintroduced into Kevin and Amalia’s lives, so he and Amalia take longer to bond. He and Kevin have too much history for him not to care about her, he’d take her in without question for her safety after the world they’d grown up in. But he knows there are limits when there is an existing family involved in the relationship he, Jeremy, and Kevin endeavor on.

Jean speaks to Amalia solely in French until she’s like 7 because Kevin and Thea were raising her bilingual and it was hard for Kevin to teach both when he had custody of her most of the time. Even after, French becomes their main mode of communication.

Jean teaches her to cook the same way that Cat once taught him. Coming becomes their thing.

Jean buys her pads and tampons when she gets her first period a month after Thea gets transferred three states over. It’s mortifying for her but Jean has zero shame and shows her how to use a tampon against her will.

Jean is the one Amalia goes to to complain and get a brutally honest answer or advice or whatnot. She goes to him when she’s pissed off and wants to scream because he’s surprisingly good at settling her with just facts and not feelings.

Amalia & Thea

Thea was heavily focused on her Exy career even after she had Amalia, but always made the time for her.

She and Amalia always had a special bond, but by the time Amalia is 9 that has greatly lessened. I don’t want to paint Thea as a bad guy bc it’s rlly not ab her as much as me simply wanting kerejean lol.

Amalia gets Thea’s skin tone, lighter but still not white. She teaches Amalia about her indian heritage and teaches her to love herself because she knows it’s not easy being a woman of color even if Amalia passes as a tan white girl with bright green eyes. Amalia learns to stick up for herself and correct people when they mis-label her as white.

She gets Thea and Kevin’s athleticism and height and ends up being 5’11.

Thea gets transferred to another team when Amalia is 12, and Kevin and Thea don’t go to court for custody because Thea knows Amalia needs to stay where she is with her family and friends and support systems. Thea is very supportive of Jeremy and Jean being in Amalia’s life bc she knows how important they are to her and wouldn’t rip her from that.

But her calls become less frequent over the years and although she visits when she can, Amalia doesn’t feel like she knows her as much as she should. Junior year of high school when Thea is a sports announcer or smth after retiring, she’s only able to get one weekend off not two in a row, and instead of using it for Amalia’s prom she uses it for her Exy tournament the weekend after. This crushes Amalia.

Amalia gets very jealous of other mother daughter bonds and Abby fills in as a mother figure while Thea is gone. Kevin, Jeremy, and Jean pick up on this easily and fill in where they can.

Amalia loves her mother, but she hates that she left. She hates that she didn’t visit, that her calls had spaced so far apart, that she wasn’t there 24/7 like she was supposed to be. She had 3 fathers that she loved, but nothing would compare to the way she remembered her mother brushing or braiding her hair and telling her stories when she was little.

Significant other?

I don’t have anyone planned out for her rn bc in the AU she’s freshly 17, but I think she befriends a kid from her high school exy team, a boy striker a year below her. He lives with his aunt and uncle because his mother died and his father is in prison, and Amalia often times finds him in the gym practicing alone because it’s so quiet at home, and his aunt and uncle are lovely but it’s just jarring to get used to, not having parents.

Amalia is a dealer, so she invites him to practice with her on the weekend when “my dads are free. we have scrimmages sometimes.”

And he agrees but hesitantly. He knows who Amalia’s parents are, and he knows he’s no match for them. But she’s delighted when he’s actually waiting there when she walks into the gym that weekend with Kevin and Jeremy in tow. Bc he’s dorky and kinda quiet which rivals her family, so she wasn’t expecting him to actually show.

The kid does pretty well, but unsurprisingly gets lots of criticism from Kevin. He doesn't waste time with the switch from how he played to how Kevin is telling him to play instead. He’s the pro after all.

Then it becomes a habit, practicing with Amalia with or without her family, and eventually he impresses their coach enough to let him start a game.

Then they start hanging out more often.

He gets more playing time, which Amalia likes, because he's a reliable player and quick to call for help. Morgan’s other seniors don't do that and it infuriates her because then it's her fault for not dropping her mark and helping out.

And then he starts getting invited over for lunch after going to the court on the weekends. He gets along with Jeremy and finally meets Jean who grips his hand hard when he shakes it and says something to Amalia in french just to make him sweat bc this is the kid that's been making her smile at her phone so often?

Kevin doesn’t know when things go from friendly to more than that, but jean is the first to notice. He brings it up to Kevin and Jeremy first bc did they even establish rules on dating?! But then Jeremy sees Amalia run out to the lawn and jump into his arms and nearly take him down on the ring camera and- did she just kiss him?! Before getting into his car?! Did no one else see that?!

“You’re freaking out”

“Yeah, within reason though, right? She’s dating!”

“Kev, not to alarm you, but there's also a good chance she's kissed a boy by now, too. She’s seventeen.”

[drdemonprince]

It’s “urks me” anon. I agree with your reply very much. I know I sent the ask but you did not have to reply as in depth as you did and it genuinely made me feel a lot more comfortable with the space you are creating. I kinda wish you had explained yourself that well in the beginning but hey I of all people know online communication is difficult and this is an evolving convo. Also I’m going to be real your followers have been being a lot more annoying than you ever could be and it was affecting my mood when talking to you. It’s less that healthy people talking about risk management inherently annoys me and more that they are constantly slipping in microaggressions and minor misinfo when they talk about it. Even if the choices they are making are (sometimes…) reasonable it is so obvious that they were not listening to the important technical details vulnerable people were speaking and only heard “blah blah blah scary stuff and restrictions blah blah blah” like…!? I think overshaming is one piece of the puzzle. But I think a lot of people, including many so called allies and covid-aware people, simply don’t listen to us very carefully regardless of how diplomatic we’re being. Maybe they think they already know the technical details even though they clearly don’t? Idk it’s very irritating.

Thanks for your message. This is another place where I get very enraged at our public institutions for failing us so catastrophically! We have all been so systematically misled about COVID, and the actual infection numbers and other ever-evolving data on how it's currently spreading is actively covered up, and not made accessible by journalistic institutions, so on that level I do not hold individiduals reponsible for not understanding things.

Chronically ill, disabled, and otherwise COVID-conscious people have been forced to become the public health information apparatus and have done incredible amounts of thankless work geneating the data, reporting on it, monitoring wastewater levels, delving deeply into the latest research, creating infographics, and trying to spread the word to the public about it, but they have no assistance in it, and no platform beyond what they can build online. and those online communities tend to become siloed because of how social media algorithms work, and so people who have been spreading the facts relentlessly every single day routinely bump up against people who do not see those same posts hardly ever because they are in different pockets of the internet. Which comes down both to their choices and priorities, and due to algortihmic echo-chambers, and economic and political incentive structures silencing the work that COVID-conscious folks do.

And yes, also, people very much do shut down and turn away when confronted with scary information... that's a very well-established fact within public health and persuasion science that has remained a real barrier to public awareness campaigns for a long time. People do not process information about death and threat well at all. So much so that many public health intitatives of the past had to limit talk of death and scary outcomes if they want people to things like get a cancer screening or contemplate quitting smoking. the cigarette companies themselves funded "anti smoking" campaigns that were awash in images of death and bodily decay because they knew those kinds of messages shut people down and actually make them less likely to quit. (i write a lot about this stuff in my new book).

This is where conversations about tactics do become relevant again -- mentioning death or the direness of long COVID isn't "shaming", it's not moral sanctimoniousness, it's not "wrong" to do, it is accurate! but it doesn't usually work persuasively. and I do think there is more we could do to frame masking and taking covid mitigation measures as a thing for a person to take pride in, feel empowered by, and feel connected to others by doing, which generally is what we find to be more effective in public health research.

to return to the cancer comparison, we tend to find that "think of how much peace of mind you'll feel after your cancer screening! take a positive step for your health!" is a more effective framing that actually inspires behavioral change than "if you don't find out that you have pancreatic cancer in time you will most likely die. here are the stats on how many people die of it." That kind of messaging tends to make people less likely to take proactive steps. even though it's all rooted in actual facts.

I have seen some propaganda (postive connotation) evoking a kind of positive, empowering idea regarding masking at protests, but I'd love to see more of it. Sounding the alarm repeatedly does not work for a variety of psychological reasons. people get both numb to it if they've heard something is a "pressing serious life and death emergency" for long enough, and paradoxically, they also overwhelmed by the bleakness. we see a similar thing happening with climate change. these situations ARE dire and people SHOULD care, but in order to make caring feel concrete and possible, behaviorally, we have to frame information in an empowering way.

of course, there are COVID conscious people who do do that and devote lots of energy to crafting such persuasive messages! and still have to cope with being silenced, downgraded by the algorithm, ignored, attacked by anti-maskers, etc. and lots of people understandably feel that they have tried everything and that people still don't care. from where they are sitting as one person that's the emotional reality and that's often the lived intepersonal experience. but that appearance of other people not caring was engineered...and lord i hope we can find a way to socially engineer a collective way out of it, because what we are doing isn't working well enough. unfortunately the thing we need the most desperately is just more people spreading the message and giving a shit.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

17 or 18 for the soft prompts?

I went with “walking home”! This takes place after the s6 finale! Send me soft prompts! Find the finished ones on ao3!

Their first date is at 9 PM on an unseasonably warm night in May, and mostly happens because of a long campaign on Christopher's part to convince his father that he's old enough to stay in the house alone for an hour or two.

Or it's because when Buck, nervous, unsure of how much he could retroactively claim, joked that their first date had involved a leg and a bomb Eddie had smiled with something like awe.

Or it's because, half an hour before that, when Buck had finally made it through Eddie's door after two days at Maddie's side, or at Bobby's, or watching Jee, or making sure Hen got home ok, he had poured the cracked open remains of himself into Eddie's arms and Eddie had held him so gently, and then taken Buck’s face in his hands and pressed a careful kiss to the scratches on one side of his forehead, and then to the birthmark on the other, and finally to his lips, and the whole world had tilted from an axis Buck hadn’t known it was leaning on to settle into perfect position.

Anyway. It’s nine o’ clock and Eddie has several broken ribs and as much as Chris insists he’ll be totally absolutely fine on his own neither of them want to go far, so they end up at a taqueria an eight minute walk away. Buck’s only showered once since the freeway collapse, and Eddie’s hair is a mess, and they’re both wearing sweatpants, and Eddie holds his hand across one of the little metal tables crowded on the sidewalk and Buck wouldn’t change a single thing. They barely talk as they eat under the buzzing overhead lights, murmured questions and answers about the wellbeing of the rest of the 118, trading almost inaudible confessions. Since then? How about- And this? Me too. Me too. Buck paid at the counter when they’d ordered and Eddie had said I’ll get it next time, and it feels like a little light in Buck’s chest as they sit there together (together) in the hot nighttime air. Next time. Eddie is still holding his hand, and smiling at him, and there’s going to be a next time.

“You ready to go home?” Eddie asks when they’ve eaten their fill, and there is no question which house he means, no question that Buck belongs there.

“Yeah,” Buck says, light glowing brighter. “Let’s go home.”

Eddie grunts as he stands up from the chair and Buck’s hands flutter around him without any conscious choice on his part. “You alright? I can run back and get the Jeep.”

“I’m good,” he shakes his head, smiling in his indulging Buck way. “Driving hurts worse than walking anyway.”

Buck winces in sympathy. He remembers the bumpy ride home from the hospital after CPR had cracked his chest open, and that had been after a full week of healing. “Sorry, we should have- Waited, or I could have gone to get the food-“

“Buck,” Eddie cuts him off. “It’s a nice night.” It’s a lie, it’s so sweaty out here, and Eddie laughs at whatever expression Buck makes. “It’s nice to be out with you,” he amends. He takes Buck’s hand again, stepping very close and glancing around before quickly kissing his cheek. “Come on.”

The streetlights in this neighborhood are old, bulbs dim, and spaced far enough apart that most of the light they’re seeing by is spilled out of the houses and corner stores they pass. It makes the world feel like a private space for the two of them, wrapping them in something like candlelight. They're holding hands, still, and Buck thinks of the hundreds of times they've walked side by side with shoulders and elbows bumping and the hundreds of times he'd thought about finishing the connection, reaching out, entwining their fingers. Eddie squeezes every few steps, and keeps glancing at Buck out of the corner of his eyes and smiling whenever he sees Buck is looking back.

"What do you think Chris is up to?" Eddie's soft voice joins the cricket chirps and quiet hiss of sprinklers on the lawn next to them.

"Oh, rager, definitely."

Eddie shakes his head, grinning. "Yeah? All the coolest 12 year olds from science class?"

"You callin' your kid a nerd?"

Eddie throws him a look that knows exactly how many annual memberships to museums Buck and Chris share, and Buck cackles.

"I'll have you know in my college days-"

"Oh? All two semesters?"

"In my many, glorious college days I learned that the nerds partied harder than anyone. Get biochem and the engineers together and things are going to get really fun and really illegal so fast-"

"So we should start pushing him towards the humanities now-"

"But anyway," Buck concludes, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the Diaz house, "I bet he's just swearing while he plays video games."

Eddie shoves him lightly, laughing, and Buck lets himself stumble across the grass into the spray of the sprinklers. He spins in place on the lawn, head tilted back to stare up past the city lights to the few visible stars, getting gently soaked. When he stops his spin he’s facing Eddie, body a compass returning to him always. He holds his arms wide and grins and Eddie laughs again, in that fearfully delighted kind of way, and moves faster up the sidewalk. Buck chases after him, spinning him around and catching him so carefully, wrapping him up in a wet embrace. Eddie laughs, deep, head thrown back. He's still laughing as he gets his hands up into Buck's hair, yanking him down into a kiss in the middle of the sidewalk. The air is hot and Buck's clothes are wet and cool and Eddie is so warm, and the light in Buck's chest is turning into a supernova. Buck's hands slide down to Eddie's hips, and Eddie breaks the kiss, resting their foreheads together. Buck thinks they both probably look a little giddy, a little wide eyed.

"Eddie," Buck says, just to say it, or like he's trying to say something else he's not sure he's allowed yet.

"Yeah," Eddie says, like I love you, too.

They start their journey again slowly, arm in arm. It takes them a little longer than eight minutes to get back, Eddie moving a little gingerly and neither of them in any hurry. Buck almost feels reluctant when the Diaz front door comes into view. Eddie, halfway up a step, turns around at the hesitation. He tilts his head, and his smile is understanding and utterly fond.

“Hey, Buck.”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing next Friday?”

Buck huffs out a laugh, ducking his head and coming closer, toes bumping into the stair Eddie stands on. “I got no plans.”

“If the kid hasn’t burned anything down in there, do you… want to do this again?” Eddie almost looks nervous, and Buck immediately goes up on his toes to kiss the worry away.

“Please,” he says, and he thinks Eddie blushes, though he can’t be sure backlit as he is by the warm porch light. Eddie’s fingers brush against Buck’s shoulder, then tangle in his shirt for just a moment.

“Okay,” he says, quiet, joyful. They linger there a moment longer, just breathing in each other’s space, then he steps back, unlocks the door, holds out a hand.

Buck takes it. They go inside.

[baxteravenue]

Can You Shoot & Score?

PART ONE.

Summary: You don't listen to Jack Harlow but because your friend is seeing his best friend you find yourself at his concert and at the center of his attention.

A/N: This is a three parter, so stay tuned!

“You’re coming,” Your roommate practically begs, “Y/N please for me! I literally never ask you to go anywhere and I’m literally on my knees.”

“I don’t even listen to him, besides that one song.” You shake your head, “And I don’t know if I can be the best wing woman.”

Jack Harlow is in town and for the past few months on and off your roommate has been messaging with his best friend or photographer… you’re not really sure but you do remember his name because of how random it was. Urban.

“I will literally play Animal Crossing with you for an entire month, please! Just the show and the club after and you will get me to fully dive into the game you’ve been wanting me to play for the longest.”

“Way to make me sound boring.” You stick out your tongue.

“So?”

It’s silent for a bit before you eventually melt, “Fine. But I’m wearing what I want to wear.” 

Nina, your roomie practically jumps up and down in a fit of glee. “Yay and fine! You could literally wear a trash bag and still look hot.”

So that’s how you ended up being escorted from the box office all the way to the backstage area, backstage passes plastered on both you and Nina. 

It’s awkward at first when you walk into a room crowded with girls wearing full on club outfits, you slowly begin to feel self conscious with your choice of clothing. Your trusty pair of Levi’s and a random black mesh tank. You slowly lean into Nina, “Did not know we were going to a Fashion Nova runway show.”

Nina giggles, “You look beautiful.”

You recognize Urban first, Nina had shown you his instagram first. He completely disregards all the girls lingering and walks up to Nina with a huge smile on his face and a cherry wrapped joint behind his ear. 

He hugs her tightly and you smile, you can’t hear what he says but she smiles and he gives her the blunt. 

“This is Y/N, Y/N this is Urban.” Urban smiles, and for a second you see his eyes dart behind you wiggling his eyebrows a bit before snapping back.

“S’nice to meet you, did you need anything? We got some drinks over there and some chicken sandwiches and oh shit do you smoke? I got Neens her favorite but I completely forgot to ask if you had any preferences.”

You melt at Urban’s nickname for Nina and shake your head, “Thank you but no. I don’t smoke, I get paranoid and I’m not a big fan of alcohol.”

“Respect.” Urban nods, “What about a chicken sandwich?”

“Sure.” You shrug. 

Urban leads you over to a whole buffet, constantly looking over your shoulder. “Help yourself to anything,” Glance, “Literally anything.” Glance, “Give me a second I’ll be right back.” 

Urban leaves and you look down, giggling at the Jack Harlowified wraps of the KFC chicken sandwiches. 

“It’s funny huh?” An unfamiliar voice says from beside you. 

You look up and then back at the wrapper and then back up, “They kinda did you dirty, you look like the unabomber.” You immediately cover your mouth with your hand, “I didn’t”

“Holy shit.” He laughs, “Okay, wow.”

“I didn’t mean to actually say that out loud.” You can feel your cheeks getting red.

“It’s fine,” He smiles looking back down at the rapper before laughing, “Shit you’re kinda right.” 

You shake your head, “M’sorry I’m just gonna eat my chicken sandwich in the corner and stay quiet.”

“Wait no!” Jack says a little too eagerly for his liking, “Nah it’s cool… What's your name again?”

“I never said it, It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N…” Jack tests the name on his lips, “I like that name. It’s a nice name.”

“Thanks, I like the name Jack too. It reminds me of how obsessed I was with Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas, so much that I had my parents buy me this onesie costume and I wore it almost every day for the entire month of April which is like an insanely random month to develop a hyperfixation on that and sometimes I ask myself like why not October or like even December? But then again I did watch Stand By Me over and over again from November to…” You immediately stop realizing how many words are coming out of your mouth, “Sorry.”

Jack has the cheesiest smile, loving every single word that’s coming out of your mouth. “No please continue, I was just going to say how I watched Save The Last Dance secretly every night for two months straight, I swore I was gonna pop out at my seventh grade winter formal like no other.”

You throw your head back in a fit of laughter, “I kid you not I used to stand in front of the T.V. and try and mimic every single one of Moose’s dance scenes from Step Up.”

“And how did that go? Can you move like him?” 

You snort laughing, “Oh hell no. I have no rhythm. I was doomed from the start and I think if I remember correctly I dislocated a bone.”

Jack can’t stop laughing with you and neither can you. Everyone sees how deep the two of you are in conversation, laughs coming out every few seconds. Urban, all of Jack’s friends, and Nina are smiling watching from a distance. Meanwhile every other girl who had hope of a shot frowns with disappointment and jealousy.

You’re telling Jack about how you used to play basketball in high school when his eyes light up. 

“Wait for reals, you used to play? You can shoot?” Jack has an up to no good look on his face.

“It’s been a while but I think so, I’m not the tallest but I have a good arm.” You shrug.

Jack nods, “Alright… alright. You’re gonna be watching from the side stage or were you gonna be in the crowd?”

You look over at Nina who’s staring at you already along with everyone else. You give her a confused look before turning back to Jack, “Uhm it’s honestly up to Nina, I came with her so…”

He nods as someone tells him he’s on in five.

“I hope you enjoy the show.” Jack gives you a wink, “And I really hope you can shoot.”

You don’t know what he means but before you can even ask you both are being dragged in different directions. Jack to his spot on stage and you to side stage to watch with Nina and Urban.

You’ve never really listened to his music but you find yourself enjoying the music. You laugh as he interacts with the crowd.

“We even got a basket up here and… a ball! Who thinks they can make it?”

The arena immediately roars in cheers, Jack laughs looking at all the raised hands. “Alright. Alright. There's no way y'all can all make it. Hmmm, you!” He points at a girl right at the front, “You think you can? Alright c’mon.  And you my boy in the middle you got it? Alright let's go. And mmm alright you look like you got the spirit you come up too!”

It’s sad to see all of the fans miss, but regardless they look happy that they were even up there getting to be near Jack.

You giggle as he nicely kicks the fans off joking about their lack of baskets before looking around, “You know I think I have another person who said they can shoot… Y/N, you wanna give it a try?”

Your eyes widen as the light moves to you, Jack pulling at your arm. “C’mon I need one person to make it. Everyone Y/N said she’s got it like that!”

The crowd cheers.

You shake your head, “What? No!”

“C’mon Y/N don’t make us go out sad!” Jack pouts at you, before turning back to the crowd, “Unless she doesn’t got it like that then I get it. She doesn't want to embarrass herself.”

“Embarrass myself?” Suddenly you don’t care that you’re stepping on a huge stage in front of almost 16,000 people. You grab the ball from Jack’s arms, “No one’s gonna embarrass themselves.” 

“Oooh she got the ball! Let’s see if she makes it?” Jack taunts you to the crowd. 

Oh you were gonna make it, best believe that. Suddenly you were back in your high school prime ready to make a free throw and within second it swishes into the basket graceful as fuck and you cant help but let out a small scream jumping up and down. You were never great with pressure, but it was nice to know you still had it.

You feel your feet lift off the floor as Jack picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder screaming. “Let’s goooooo!”

You cannot stop laughing as he runs all over the stage, before gently placing you down at the side of the stage. “Man everyone give it up for Y/N! She redeemed yall!” Jack tucks the mic behind him, “You’re too fucking good, I think I’m obsessed with you.”

He doesn’t even give you time to respond before he’s running back to the center of the stage getting into the next song.

Your mouth is open slightly in shock and a bit of confusion. 

“Oh, he likes you bad girl.” Nina smirks.

[nightghoul381]

Ellis Twilight ~ Main Route Chapter 9

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: None

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

--The day after patrolling the city.

I was heading to the casino with Ellis and Jude.

The casino is one of the gang’s strongholds.

William and the others had gotten information that the leader of the circus troupe was coming and going from there from time to time.

(We’ll scout nearby and as soon as we find someone who looks like that, we’ll arrest and interrogate them.)

With my mind filled with tension, I ruminated over today’s mission.

Jude, who was smoking a cigarette a little further away, looked at me and let out an exasperated sigh.

Jude: “What’re ya gonna do in this state?”

Kate: “I’m nervous right now, but I’ll be okay.”

As I put on my best calm expression, Ellis bent down a little and handed me a cup of tea.

Ellis: “Please. Warm up your body and you’ll feel better.”

Kate: “Thank you…”

The warmth that passes through my fingertips, which were cold from the tension, was comforting.

Kate: “…Mmm, it has honey in it. It’s delicious.”

Ellis: “Good. Are you feeling better?”

Kate: “…Yeah, I am.”

Ellis: “Don’t push yourself too hard, Kate.”

Even after yesterday’s confession-like incident, Ellis acted exactly as I had expected.

I think he’s treating me the ‘same as before’.

(But, I’m still conscious of what’s going on.)

I felt my heart beat a little faster with Ellis next to me, so I casually took a step away from him.

Ellis: “This might get rough, so if there’s another scary scene, please close your eyes.”

Kate: “Hehe, that can’t happen… My job is to record both of your sins.”

Ellis: “Even if you don’t see it, I can tell you later.”

Ellis: “It’s great that you’re working so hard, but… I wish you would take better care of yourself.”

Kate: “Y…Yeah…”

(Is this the ‘same as before’…?)

Every time such sweet words come out of his mouth, I can’t help but feel excited.

(No, no. I have to do my best… I don’t want something like last time to happen.)

--Flashback—

Ellis: “They were trying to harm Kate.”

Kate: “…”

(Then, this tragic situation…)

(This happened because I followed you, Ellis--)

Ellis: “… It’s okay now, Kate.”

--End flashback—

(… I hope it doesn’t end up like what happened last time.)

Kate: “Ellis, please don’t push yourself too hard.”

At the memory of Ellis standing in a pool of blood, the words naturally spilled out of my mouth.

Everyone knows that this is his job, his mission, and what he must do.

That’s why I wanted to be close to the pain and the hurt that comes from that.

Ellis: “Me? I’ll probably be fine, but… thank you.”

Kate: “After the mission is finished, let’s eat something delicious!”

Ellis: “…yeah… fufu.”

Suddenly, Ellis looked at me and smiled—.

Part 2

Kate: “After the mission is finished, let’s eat something delicious!”

Ellis: “…yeah… fufu.”

Suddenly, Ellis looked at me and smiled—.

Kate: “…? What?”

Ellis: “I was just having fun imagining what store I would bring you to.”

Kate: “…!”

(That’s…)

(Ellis himself is looking forward to going out to eat with me.)

Not just for me.

That makes me so happy that I can’t help but smile.

(Concentrate on the mission…)

I hurriedly hid my smile.

However, Ellis didn’t miss my changing expressions.

Ellis: “Kate? What’s wrong?”

***Choices***

***1. Nothing +4 +4***

2. I'm looking forward to the meal +2 +4

3. I'm so excited +4 +2

(I thought I had gotten screenshots of the correct choice but I guess I hadn’t, sorry!)

Kate: “I’m kind of excited… but we have a mission now, so I have to brace myself.”

Ellis: “You should just stay excited. If it’s a mission, leave it to us.”

When I smiled with Ellis--

???: “Ah…!”

I heard a small scream and turned around.

A little girl had fallen onto the ground, perhaps from the stairs.

(Wow, that looks painful!)

Simultaneously, I took a step forward and Ellis also started walking toward the girl.

Ellis: “Are you okay?”

Ellis gently held out a hand to help the girl up, but…

Girl: “…gh, mm…”

A film of tears quickly formed in the girl’s eyes.

(It seems like her parents aren’t around. In that case…)

Kate: “That must have hurt. Um, what’s your name…?”

--Just then a cheerful voice called from above the three of us.

Man with an eyepatch: “Hey, hey there, girl!”

Man with an eyepatch: “The flowers want to say hello to you!”

(Who…!?)

Part 3

Man with an eyepatch: “Hey, hey there, girl!”

Man with an eyepatch: “The flowers want to say hello to you!”

(Who…!?)

A man wearing an eyepatch suddenly appeared and squeezed his hands together…

A beautiful flower suddenly bloomed on the palm of his hand.

Kate: “! What’s this?”

Ellis: “It’s a magic trick like the one Bill did.”

Flowers: “Young lady, please don’t cry. I want to see your smile.”

In a high-pitched, strangled voice, the man wearing an eyepatch pretended to be the flowers and started to speak.

Girl: “Hic… Flowers…”

Flowers: “If you smile, I feel like I could bloom even more!”

Girl: “…mm,…”

As the girl forced her lips to curl up in an attempt to smile, small flowers began to overflow from the eyepatch wearing man’s palm.

Girl: “Wow…!”

The girl’s eyes, still wet with tears, sparkled.

Just then, a woman with a frantic expression came running toward us.

Woman looking panicked: “Cathy! I was looking for you, you can’t just walk away by yourself!”

Cathy: “Oh, mom! Look, it’s amazing! The flowers are like magic…”

Cathy’s mother: “You can tell me the story later! Sorry to bother you.”

Man with an eyepatch: “No, no, there’s no bother.”

Ellis: “She may have scraped her knee. Please help her.”

Cathy’s mother: “Eh, did you fall? Didn’t she bother you with her crying!?”

Cathy: “I’m not crying! The old man used flower magic.”

(I guess she really enjoyed the flower magic trick.)

Her mother also smiled, looking relieved as the girl spoke excitedly.

Cathy’s mother: “It feels like everybody has helped you… Thank you very much.”

Cathy’s mother: “Cathy, we’re going to have a lot to talk about when we get home.”

Cathy: “Yeah!”

The girl smiled and held hands with her mother, then waved at us as she left.

Ellis: “Take care.”

After seeing off the mother and child, I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Kate: “I’m glad her mother came to pick her up.”

Ellis: “…Yeah.”

There was something strange about the voice that reached my ears, and I turned around, wondering what it was.

Ellis: “…”

Ellis, who had been smiling at the girl, suddenly turned to stare at the man with the eyepatch with a calm expression on his face.

I follow his gaze and look at the man again.

(That’s right. The man who suddenly appeared.)

Although he had an unhealthy looking complexion, he was tall and well-built.

He had a friendly smile, but his sharp, wolf-like eyes gave the impression that he was being driven by something.

(Eyepatch… maybe he’s a performer.)

Then I remembered the external characteristics of the ‘Ring Leader’ that Alfons had talked about.

--Flashback—

Alfons: “The person who was recruiting her was Captain Jake Grace himself.”

Alfons: “She said she was certain it was him on account of the characteristic scar around his eye that he got from being attacked by a wild beast when he was young.”

--End Flashback—

(He was active as a ring leader 20 years ago, which means he must be at least in his 30’s…?)

The person in front of me looks to be in his 40’s.

(Although, since he’s wearing an eyepatch, I can’t tell if his eye was injured or not--)

Jude: “….”

Jude, who had just been watching with a cigarette in hand, approaches.

Jude: “Ellis.”

Ellis: “Yeah.”

At that moment, Ellis stood in front of me as if to protect me.

Jude: “Y’know a guy named Jake Grace?”

Man with an eyepatch: “Oh, you’re in luck! After all, I am Jake Grace!”

Part 4

Man with an eyepatch: “Oh, you’re in luck! After all, I am Jake Grace!”

Jude: “……”

Kate: “Huh!?”

(How do you dare say your name like that!?)

Even though he was supposed to be complicit in the kidnappings, he ignored it so easily, I was disappointed.

Assuming he was trying to tick us, Jude narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Ellis: “I heard a rumor that you’re kidnapping performers. Is that true?”

Kate: “Ellis?”

(He’ll be set off by asking such a direct question…!)

However, despite my concerns, the man’s shoulders began to shake with laughter.

Jake: “Kidnapping? Me? Ahahahaha!”

Jake: “Goodness, no. I’m currently recruiting to re-form the circus. I have been going around asking for help though.”

Jake: “Everyone will agree that they are attracted by the charm of the circus!”

(Uh…)

Ellis: “… I heard that even people who declined have disappeared.”

Jake: “Wait, disappeared? There’s no way that’s the case. I’m the kind of person who gracefully steps away if I’m rejected.”

Jake: “Those who love the arts will probably meet again somewhere, as long as they’re still alive!”

Jude | Ellis: “…..”

(We actually witnessed a woman being attacked by a gang after refusing his proposition.)

There is a big discrepancy between that fact and Jake’s statement.

(But it doesn’t seem like he’s lying… what does he mean?)

Jude: “What’re the new circus members who accepted yer recruitment doin’?”

Jake: “I’m sure they’re honing their performances at the mansion in the suburbs free of distractions!”

Jake: “Just the other day, there was a kid on the street who was in trouble, so I asked him to join. He agreed after just two benefits.”

Jake: “Children under the age of 10 are more likely to improve their physical abilities.”

Jake: “If they can learn how to walk on a tightrope, they can say goodbye to a life of scavenging for garbage on the roadside!”

Ellis: “Are you the one taking them to that ‘suburban mansion’?”

Jake: “No? But the owner of the casino has graciously offered to invest in my future circus!”

Jake: “That man is taking care of them until the first performance.”

Jake: “I’m going to meet with him today about that matter.”

Jake has a cheerful smile on his face.

(He has a refreshing way of speaking. Also, looking at how he treated the girl earlier… I don’t think he’s a bad person.)

(If that’s the case, then he might be--)

Ellis: “Even though you’re playing a role in the kidnapping, you don’t realize it.”

Part 5

(If that’s the case, then he might be--)

Ellis: “Even though you’re playing a role in the kidnapping, you don’t realize it.”0357

Ellis puts words to what I was thinking.

Jake: “Mm?”

Ellis: “I think you’re being tricked.”

Ellis: “Have you met up with the people who accepted your invitation at least once afterward?”

Jake: “They send me letters from time to time. I still have to gather more people, so I haven’t been able to go to the mansion.”

Ellis: “Please check carefully.”

Jake: “Okay, okay! I’ll check it out. Thank you for your kindness.”

(The leader doesn’t know anything. That means…)

Jude: “We got no choice but to catch the leader of the gang ‘n investigate directly.”

Jude spits out the words, looking bothered.

Similarly, Ellis muttered in a low voice.

Ellis: “What are we going to do? Are we going to pretend that we want to be members and go to the casino?”

Kate: “Huh?”

Ellis: “I mean, is the owner of the casino that he’s about to meet the one who led the kidnapping, or is just a conduit for that person?”

Ellis: “Maybe it’s an opportunity.”

(I suppose… that might be the quickest way to make contact with the perpetrator of the kidnapping…?)

If we can condemn the leader and cut it off at the source, the kidnapping case would be solved.

We’d be able to track down the victims and be able to complete our mission in one step.

(But…)

Kate: “You two will be recognized since the gang has a grudge against you…”

Kate: “Won’t you get kicked out of the casino before you even meet the owner…?”

Ellis: “Maybe we should hide our faces?”

Jude: “They’ll figure it out by our voices.”

Ellis: “Wouldn’t it be better if we just shut up?”

Kate: “… Are you sure…?”

(Um? Maybe we can infiltrate…?)

Jude: “….”

Ellis: “…….”

Jude and Ellis exchange glances without saying a word. 0386

I stared at them, holding my breath, and after a long moment of silence, Jude clicked his tongue.

(That probably means ‘It’s a hassle but I’ll do it.’)

When I glanced at Ellis and he nodded as if to say ‘that’s right’.

Jake: “I feel a bit like an outcast not being part of the conversation, so I’ll leave you to it, okay?”

Jake: “I don’t mean to offend you. Like I said I have an appointment to meet with someone at the casino!”

Ellis: “Ah, wait a minute.”

Jake: “Hm? Did you need something?”

Ellis: “Would you please let us be a part of your circus?”

Next Chapter | His Side Story

[vmkhoneycomb]

Ok but comics had to make Tim and Damian sworn enemies bc w/o that they’d take over the world and probably solve 90% of the family’s problems.

Like. Dick goes to take Robin from Tim and Damian is like ‘preposterous. I refuse to steal Robin from him. I must earn it or it means nothing.’

Tim, readily creating Red Robin: I love this stupid kid so much I’ve decided to give it to him.

(Dickie, upon receiving pushback, realizing what a stupid fuckin idea it would b to take Robin from Tim)

Damian, who informs Tim that Dick probably doesn’t admit he believes him abt Bruce because he’s Too Sensitive and Emotional and if he believes him and Tim is wrong then Nightwing might never fly again.

-

Dick, having a mental breakdown:

Damian: Timothy. I require your assistance. You’ve pulled father out of worse woes, you must help me with Richard.

-

Jason hating on Tim for a while bc pit rage and Damian is his threatening little shadow like We Have Both Been Trained By Mother And I Guarantee, Whatever You Do To Timothy I Will Do To You In Much More Violent Ways.

-

Damian and Tim arguing 24/7 but dami actually really respects Tim’s intellect and perseverance and knows that his brother is constantly dancing on the same line that Damian has to (I.e villain/assassin vs. hero) and watching him make the conscious choice every day to do what’s right helps dami do the same.

Make them friends gdi