#well i don't want these glasses anymore because at least i didn't have to read such things in hd

[kunikuyu]

"A reward for someone so good." Hashira Series!

Part 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Uzui Tengen x Male! Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, NSFW, read as afab reader, Dom! Uzui x Sub! Reader, use of explicit words, worship kink, master kink, Tengen has an open relationship with his three wives, cockwarming, drunk sex.

Summary: Pillar training has begun, much to your delight. Of course, as a hard-working and strong person, you can handle any challenge. Even if it's fighting a hashira. And in a way, they all see some value in you, and want to reward you for it.

How did you end up like this? Thrown on top of Tengen, who now had his arms hugging your waist as he fucked you violently? Your brain had already melted and consumed with pleasure, you don't even remember what happened in the beginning.

From what you think you remember, it all started quite normally...

.....

"[Name]! It's been a long time since we've seen each other, my man. I see you've gotten tougher and flashy." You had just arrived at the area where Uzui's training was going to take place. You were even excited because the tallest man had already been your partner on some missions and you ended up creating a friendship. You knew that hashira's full capabilities, and you were eager to fight alongside him once again.

Turns out it was pretty fun, at least for you. Seeing Tengen active even after he lost his hand and one of his eyes is exciting, and you can learn even more from him. As for your training partners... They weren't doing very well.

While they were getting injured and trying to improve their physical resistance, you had already been released for the next training. But before that, Tengen told you to spend the night in his room. For what? You have no idea. Yet.

....

Tengen opens the bedroom door after hearing some almost silent knocks. He already knew you were arriving before he even knocked on the door, but he didn't want to seem anxious and already be at the door waiting for you. When he opens the bedroom door, you look kind of carefree and calm, looking at something not so important next to the door.

"Oh, hi Tengen-Sama!" You say to the man standing in front of you, greeting him with a smile on your face. He looked slightly nervous, which wasn't really his style. You chose not to talk about it, though.

He closes the door, and invites you to sit next to him. At no point did you see the tallest man's three wives, which made you curious. Before you can ask, he answers you. "Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio are in another room, they are already asleep." "Oh I see." You were going to say more, but you were stopped when Tengen took a huge bottle of alcohol and poured some into a glass, giving it to you right away.

You silently thanked him, and after he poured the liquid for him too, you drink together. Some conversations were exchanged and glasses were refilled several times, resulting in rosy faces and jokes you would never make if you were both sober. They ranged from phrases like "I like taller guys" to "I would have sex with you, no problem." And you didn't care about it anymore, the drink consumed you once and for all.

"I'm not kidding man, I'd fuck you right here and now." "Then why not do that? I wouldn't mind having you inside me."

.....

Ah yes, now you remember. It was just a stupid conversation, which turned into the most incredible fuck ever. Your sweaty face, your skin completely marked by bites and hickeys, all done by the same person. He seemed to like seeing you like this, and in a weird way, he saw it as the purest art. Your body was like a sculpture to be modeled, and he was a god destined to sculpt every detail that filled your skin.

"M-Master Tengen... I..." You wanted to say that this was the best experience possible, and that your body was being overwhelmed with so much pleasure. But nothing understandable comes out of your mouth. His cock was completely buried in your cunt, filling every space inside.

"... Your voice is so beautiful, thick for someone so delicate." He said, as his fingers roamed your body in search of something warm and wet. Once there, he couldn't help but massage the area, bringing you even closer to a climax. He didn't want to cum before you did.

You had already finished in Uzui's hands, but he wasn't finished yet. A few deep thrusts were made before you felt Tengen's cum invade your body. At this point, you didn't even care if you ended up pregnant, only the pleasure was important. ((spoiler, you didn't end up pregnant))

....

You had been clinging together all night, Tengen's cock still inside you. He didn't want to take his dick out of you, because he thought your insides were too warm.

"Man, we need to drink together more often."

"For sure."

Bonus lines!

"Man, what a headache. Are you sure there was only sake in that one?"

"... I have no idea."

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Don't I Mean Anything? - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 945>

"Charles, you can't keep doing this," you groaned as Charles walked into your apartment during the late hours of the night. Again.

This would be the third time in two weeks that he had shown up unannounced and too drunk to drive himself home. "I know, I know, it won't happen again," he dismissed, but he had said the same think so many times that the sentence didn't sound right in your mind anymore.

"I want you gone by nine," you said, watching as he sat himself down on the couch with a wobble. There was a small part of you that wanted to take him in your arms and take care of him until he was sober, and then until his hangover was gone after that.

That small part grew louder and louder each time he stumbled through your front door, and it was becoming hard to ignore. Yet, you reminded yourself that this was his fault in the end, and you had done everything you can. Even if you didn't believe it.

"Nine?! That's so early," he whined like a child, and the way he scrunched his face up in slight annoyance was just as adorable as it was the first time you had seen it.

"Well tough," you said, doing everything you could to remain completely emotionless, as if impartial to the fact that your ex-boyfriend who you were still, very much, in love with was sat on your couch and drunk. Again.

"Baby..." he mumbled, his own eyes widening in surprise as the word slipped past his lips. "Sorry," he added on, and you could tell he was more tipsy that previously anticipated. They say that drunken words are sober thoughts, but you weren't so convinced.

You didn't say anything, you just sent him a sharp glare. He didn't need to do that to you, he didn't need to do any of this, and he clearly couldn't tell how much all of this was hurting you. You stood silent, arms still crossed, almost like you were in defence mode.

"Why are you being so cold?" he quietly asked, noticing how distant you were being. He was waiting for you to bring him a glass of water, get him all comfy and tucked in with a kiss on the forehead to complete the ritual.

Once more, you chose to stay silent, biting your tongue. You felt like ranting at him about how unfair and inconsiderate he was being. It wasn't fair for him to just walk in here and expect your help and hospitality when he was the one that ended things with you. He just had to come crawling back. Again.

"Do I not mean anything to you anymore?" he continued, clearly not having any semblance of a filter on what he was saying. At least he was just saying how he felt, you supposed. But, it didn't fail to agitate you slightly. The fact that he hadn't read the room at all was frustrating.

How he didn't see the pain in your eyes as you barely looked at him and the way you held yourself was unusual. In reality, he had just chosen to ignore it and let his drunk brain run his mouth instead of common sense.

"Of course you do! You're always going to mean something to me, Charles," you rushed, your voice coming out slightly louder than intended. You took a deep breath to compose yourself. The feeling of getting at least some of this on your chest was nice, like a few grams were taken off the pile.

"R-Really?" he stuttered, not expecting that as an answer. He thought you might get snappy at him for always showing up drunk, but he should've know what he'd get for asking such a charged question.

"Yes, Charles. You might not love me anymore, but that's not going to stop me from caring about you as much as my heart will let me. And the fact of the matter is, that's how I feel, and it's not going to change. After tonight, I don't want you coming back here. It's not fair." you rambled, your voice cracking on your last few words.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said, feeling guilty that you were suffering because of him. To what extent? You hadn't quite let on. But he knew, tonight, he was hurting you. Again.

"Course you didn't, you didn't care enough to know," you spat, your voice cracking even more, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. "Gone by eight," you said, turning and walking to your bedroom.

Slamming the door behind you, you covered your mouth so that he wouldn't be able to hear the pained sobs that you were choking back. "Of course I care..." Charles whispered to himself, leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands.

"You're always going to mean something to me..." he reiterated, eyes fixated on the bedroom door that you were behind. You had spent so many nights there together, whether it be within the throws of passion, or just cuddling and enjoying a quiet night in.

But now, you were separated, just as he should've known you would be when he ended things between you. Yet here he was, regretting that very decision. Again.

"I promise, you're always going to mean something to me. I promise," he whispered, wishing you could hear what he was saying. It was a promise meant for only your ears, but it was a promise you'd probably never get to hear.

A/N - Hey lovelies! How have you all been? I think I've been shadowbanned, so if you could reblog this if you read this far, it'd be really really appreciated! Have a wonderful day/night! 💖

|masterlist|this made me feel something|

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Suspicious

G/N. So so stupid.

Your boyfriend is indulging in suspicious behaviour.

More and more, you catch him smiling sweetly at his phone, chuckling. At times you think you might have heard a squeal. He's always staring into it late at night, first thing in the morning, hiding his screen away from you.

Which usually would put you on edge if he was anyone else. Leave your imagination running wild, cause your insecurities to rise to the surface.

But you know Goo. He would have no problem kicking you out of his bed, his apartment, his life if he didn't want this anymore.

Except this isn't that. He's still as clingy as ever, still a mischievous menace. A brat, feral and needy, showing his own brand of affection and fondness.

You're almost certain that if you asked, he would shave his head for you. His precious blonde locks. That's how much he loves you.

However. The behaviour is peculiar, odd. You don't know what to think.

.

.

He's engrossed in his phone even more than usual this evening.

He didn't hear you come through the door, pad through the apartment, sneak up over his shoulder, almost breathing into his ear, eyes briefly scanning over his screen until-

"What's this?"

Goo yelps. Jerks away violently and with such force his glasses clatter onto the floor.

"Shit!" You hear him mutter under his breath as he tries to discreetly click his screen off and bend down for his glasses.

You're pretty certain you saw what you think you did.

…Really? Is this what he's been hiding from you?

Tentatively, because it's obvious this guy is touchy as hell about this, you ask, "Is that-"

"Nope!" He snaps, a very uncharacteristic blush blooming over his cheeks.

"Goo," You grin, eyes crinkling. "Are you embarrassed?"

He puts his glasses back on, adjusting them as he peers over haughtily at you, regaining some of his composure. "No cupcake, I don't get embarrassed."

You put your hand on your hips, raising an eyebrow. "Sure. That's why you've been sneaking around with your phone."

"I have not been sneaking."

"Sneaking."

"I-"

"Sneak. Ing." You emphasize each syllable, then ready your fingers at his forehead. "I may have thought you were up to no good." With that, you give Goo a light flick that he grossly overreacts to and screeches.

"So what?" he rubs his forehead with a pout, "I'm always up to no good."

That's true. You admit it with a sigh.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, clicks it back on sheepishly. "They just... They love each other."

"I know." You tread carefully, not sure which of his manic moods he's rapidly approaching.

"And they both die in the manga." You swear you see Goo's lip wobble, "I just want them to be happy."

Ok, that was definitely his voice cracking you heard there as he shows you his browser, tabs upon tabs of fanfiction open-

Really, goddamn. That is a lot of fanfiction. Although you understand the grip of a hyperfixation all too well.

Maybe you should have seen this coming. You know Goo loves his manga and anime, and you know he loves this particular one. You just didn't know how much. You didn’t realise he indulges in fandom activities.

But-

Did he not realise you loved it too? The amount of fanfiction you gorge on? That there was no need to hide this from you? You wouldn’t have ever made him feel ashamed of this.

"Hey,” You give him an encouraging smile and a nudge, “Did you read the college AU one? Where they're both-"

"PROFESSORS AND MARRIED!" Goo interjects, eyes widening in realisation. 

"Cupcake!" He purrs, any embarrassment or hesitation a thing of the past. The distant past. He throws his arm around you. Ecstatic at finding new common ground, starts to ramble and talk about his favourite fics, his least favourite. The tropes he loves, the tropes he hates. Mouth running a mile a minute.

When he finally pauses to take a breath, he smooches you on the cheek. Reading between the lines, as a way of apology for his suspicious behaviour.

And continues, until you interrupt him and tell him that your favourite ship is actually these other characters and-

"Ugh. Tasteless." Goo scoffs, removing his arm from you and stepping away as if your terrible taste will infect him.

[charliehoennam]

hero's homestead

A/N: just a lil blurb I've had stuck on my mind and had to frigging get out since watching Road House

Pairing: Elwood Dalton x f!reader

Warnings: physical injuries, jealousy, kissing, mentions of grief and death

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Growing up in Glass Key made your face quite familiar around these parts. Everyone knew you, not because you were popular or from a rich family. Lord knows you wish you were.

But because the island was just so small, like a little fishbowl with too many sharks circling around their prey, everyone knew each other around here. However, the small island was full of a strong sense of community.

Your friendship with Charlie started while you were in high school. You were just a freshman and Charlie was six when Stephen and his wife would very often ask you to baby-sit.

Saying no to them was nearly impossible. Not only did they pay you well, but they always offered you a ride home and made you sure you had dinner before leaving. They really treated you like you were part of the family and helping one another in the community was just so normal.

They always treated you with welcoming kindness and respect so, if there was anything you could do to help them, you did it. Aside from baby-sitting Charlie, this included working at their book store.

You were around there most of the time. If you weren't at home or at school, you were at Glass Books.

As you got older, you started to spend less and less time there in order to focus on your own personal and professional life.

That didn't mean you were never around anymore. You still made your frequent stop to buy the new read of the week.

"Why don't you just get all the books you want for the month, so you don't have to keep coming back?" Charlie questioned genuinely curious.

"Nah, I like coming here. I like the service. And besides, you'd miss me too much, kid" you chuckled watching the young teenage ring your book up at the register.

When Stephen told you about his wife's illness, it really took you by surprise. She could've easily been voted the happiest woman of Glass Key. The aura she possessed could make the dullest room become the brightest. Her sense of humor would have even the most no-nonsense person cracking a smile. She was an amazing woman and a motherly figure to most.

The entire community mourned her loss. The blue sky and the tropical environment wasn't enough to brighten the day for your neighborhood's residents. The heavy rains that followed that entire week led you to believe that even the island was weeping for her absence.

Between medical expenses, funeral costs and a growing teenager, Stephen had to learn to be a single father quite fast. And that meant working a full-time job to make end's meet.

He asked you to help out with the store and you happily agreed. Glass Books was his wife's dream. She loved spending her days there, in the cozy little bookstore she'd built with the love of her life.

Although you know Stephen has a lot on his plate, you can't help but wonder if he wants to avoid the store and her memory altogether.

You refused to accept money for it, knowing the shop didn't make so much money. Even so, Stephen would still transfer you a small amount whenever he could and would often bring you breakfast, lunch or dinner because he felt it was the least he could do.

All you wanted to do was help.

He was more than grateful, especially when he saw how you could make Charlie laugh by putting on music and dancing in the middle of the store with her.

He could see her slipping into a dark place after the death of her mother. Dealing with his own pain, he did his best. But, you were the best friend she needed. A feminine figure she could go to talk about more embarrassing situations or just to get her mind off of the loss.

Gradually, it seemed like their small family was beginning to heal. Although the loss was a still a fresh wound, and Stephen would often find Charlie clutching a small portrait of her mother asleep in bed, they were managing to keep the pain at bay.

You understand how important this store to them. It represents so much more than being just a simple local book store. It represents her.

The store was just as special to you as it was to Charlie and Stephen.

It had always been your refuge, but now, it was always the place where you met him.

Charlie, with her overly friendly nature that she inherited from her mother, struck up a conversation with the then stranger just outside the bookstore.

Her overprotective father was soon outside within seconds. Although the friendly streak ran deep within him too, he knew these parts were full of men with bad intentions.

Once he realized the stranger wasn't from around, he felt a little more at ease.

Although you remained inside the shop, you could overhear their conversation as you inched towards the door and opened it to stand in the doorway, eyeing the stranger with caution.

Stephen was surprised to know he'd come out of town to work at the Road House. To be honest, neither of you expected him to last very long. At that place, security never does.

The bouncer turnover never ceased with the riots that broke out there almost every night. So, you didn't bother getting your hopes up.

However, Dalton kept coming back. Every other day, he came in with the excuse of using the computer or buying a book just to strike up a conversation with you and lay down his flirtatious charm.

Charlie was the first to notice he would always come around when you were there and, if you weren't, he'd always make sure to ask when you were.

She had quite a bit of fun poking fun at you, telling you he had a crush on you or mocking the unconscious change in your voice you had when talking to him.

It didn't long take for feelings to develop between you and him. There was no doubt in either of you. Although unspoken, the magnetic attraction was undeniably present.

Some of those talks were deep and you felt you could confide in him to share things you hadn't shared with anyone at all. He, in turn, told you about the night on the train tracks and how the last fight he had in the ring haunted him every night.

There was no denying the bond you were forming. However, the rumors that were spreading around the island about the closeness between Ellie and him made you hesitant to make the first move.

When you casually brought it up into conversation, he shook his head and told you it wasn't anything serious and that she'd took him on a date once. You wanted to ask him if he had feelings for her, but that would be too much.

"So what's the deal with you and Dalton?" Charlie curiously asked, having picked up on the constant courtship that you two refused to act on.

"There is no deal. We're just friends. Hardly that."

"I may be young, but I'm no fool. I know there's something going on between you two."

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but there isn't. Besides, I hear he's got a sort of a girlfriend" you replied without looking up at her from the book in your hand.

You were both sat in fold-out beach chairs placed in front of the store, enjoying a couple of white cherry slushies, hoping the ice cold drink could soothe the hot, humid weather.

"How do you have a 'sort of girlfriend'? Either she is or isn't."

"Those things are complicated. I guess they're getting to know each other," you shrugged wishing you could avoid the topic.

"Like you guys are?"

"There is nothing going on. Sure, he's cute and funny and all, but he's seeing someone else. He's not interested in me, Charlie."

"So, you are interested in him?"

"It doesn't matter if I am. She's a doctor, she's smart and she's really pretty and drives a nice car. I know I don't stand a chance, so I'd rather not get my hopes up," you rambled, failing to read anything on the page you were stuck on. "Can we please drop this now?"

"Oh my god," she smirked staring at you. "You're jealous."

You scoffed at her ridiculous accusation and shook your head as you closed the book and set it in your lap.

"I am not jealous. I do not get jealous."

"Yes, you are! You totally are!"

"I am not! I just don't want to talk about this anymore, alright? So can we drop it?"

"Alright, alright. Sorry I brought it up."

She couldn't stop smiling as you opened your book to continue reading. Although you weren't her parents, her mind couldn't stop thinking of a way to parent-trap you into getting together.

However, her plans were brought to a halt when Brandt's lackeys invaded the shop just a few days later.

You tried your best to stand your ground and defend the shop along with Stephen. He told you to leave, but you refused.

After the beatdown you both received unwillingly, a fire had been set and the cruel men left. The adrenaline that surged through your bodies was enough to numb the pain in order to get you both quickly back on your feet to put out the fire.

Between the blood loss and the resurfacing pain, the billowing smoke got stronger and stronger. The flames became too strong too quickly and had engulfed the entire wall across the front counter.

Light-headed and dizzy, Stephen tried to save whatever he could from the store. As you rushed back and forth, you realized that the fire had grown too much and swallowed the front entrance.

The heat of it shattered the glass windows. The open air only fueled the fire more. Coughing from the heavy smoke, both you and Stephen got down on the floor to avoid the unbreathable air and attempted to crawl to the back exit.

Everything went dark after that and melded into one huge blur.

You don't remember when you actually blacked out, but you do remember feeling relieved once you heard the fire department's arrival.

The time you spent in the hospital was short - only a couple of days - but it was enough to make you reflect on your life.

An overwhelming sense of regret washed over you as you thought about Dalton.

You'd only known each other for a few weeks, but what if you could've had something special? What if Charlie's jokes were true and he actually ended up to be your soulmate?

She could be wrong too, but the fact that you could've died and never found out if you ever really did stand a chance ate at your mind.

You hadn't fully realized the extent of your attachment until a couple days later.

You show up at the store with a limp from the beatdown you'd received a couple days ago.

Stephan tries to assure you they're fine, that you need to rest and recover, but you argue that you'll go insane if you stay at home with nothing to do, high on pain meds.

Helping the owners clean and salvage whatever they can, Charlie casually mentions that Dalton and left her and her father a suitcase full of money to rebuild the store before he got on a greyhound bus destined to leave Glass Key.

The same regret you'd felt in the hospital strikes you again and secretly consumes you.

You try to play it off and instruct her to not to tell anyone about the money. You barely understand what she said after that. All you can think about for the rest of that morning is that he left and didn't even say goodbye.

When Charlie and her father invite you to get some lunch with them, you politely refuse, opting to stay back and keep yourself busy. You lie and tell them you had a big breakfast beforehand just so they won't worry.

You promised you wouldn't get your hopes up. You knew better than that. Bouncers never last at the Road House. You know this just as well as any of the other residents of Glass Key.

He's gone now.

You just want to be alone for a bit to process it.

The door opens and the bell above it rings as you sweep away at the shattered glass, forcing you to look back over your shoulder.

The sight you see has you frozen in surprise.

His face is impossible to forget. You could never forget those big blue doe eyes, even with the dark skin that circles his right eye.

You groan lightly at the shooting pain from your broken rib as you straighten and turn to face him, holding the broom by your side as you stand next to it.

Dalton closes the glassless door behind him as he greets you with a silent but friendly smile until the cut on your lip and the black eye remind him of the damage he caused.

He doesn't look too different from you. His eye is still a little swollen but mostly black now, his lip busted and the stitches on his eyebrow are all evidence that business has been handled at the Road House.

"So, the Glass Key hero returns" you smile at him, ignoring the sting on your bottom lip. "Charlie said you were riding off into the sunset. You forget something?"

"I'm not a hero and, no, I didn't" he starts, looking around the burned down shop trying to swallow his guilt.

"Changed your mind?"

"Someone kinda changed it for me, actually. A very wise person told me that heroes don't always have to ride off into the sunset. They can stay and make a homestead instead."

Joy bursts within you like fireworks on new years. You try to fight back the smile that creeps onto you lips.

"Thought you weren't a hero."

"I'm not."

You nod biting the inside of your cheek to mask your excitement. You take the second broom that Charlie had been using earlier and left leaning against the wall by the front door.

"This homestead could use a hand" you smile and offer him the broom.

He takes it with a happy grin, feeling finally accepted as if he finally found somewhere he belongs.

"There's, uh, one more thing" he says in a soft voice.

His hand raises to your chin, tilting your head up as he cranes his neck to kiss you in the most tender of ways.

Unable to forget about Ellie, you place a hand on his chest and gently push to stop the kiss.

Dalton's face contorts with confusion. He doesn't notice the breath he's holding, anxiety settling in as he fears that you'll ask him to stop. Maybe he got the wrong signals and you don't like him that way. He'd respect it, if that's the case, but it doesn't mean his heart won't be crushed.

"I thought you were seeing Ellie?"

He blinks slightly surprised. That's not what he had expected to hear, but it makes him kind of happy that you're not asking him to stop.

"She took me on a date and we kissed, but that was it."

"So, you are dating her?"

"What, are you jealous?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not jealous."

"You sound a little jealous" he smirks.

"I'm not. I just... I don't wanna get my hopes up."

"I'm not dating her," he says gently stroking your bruised cheek. "I told her there's someone else for me, someone that I really wanna date."

He gazes into your eyes as you smile up at him and let him continue his kiss. You let his lips linger on yours and smile when you feel them stretch into a grin.

The cuts on your mouths hurt, but neither of you bother to pull away.

His kiss gradually intensifies. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip, politely asking for entrance. His free hand reaches for your waist as the other sets against your cheek, leaving the broom tucked in his arm.

You let his tongue slip past your defenses. The gentle way his hand cradles your face has you holding onto his strong forearm and the other broom for balance as the room spins around you from his vertiginous kiss.

Your chest presses against his as you moan softly into his mouth. It takes him every ounce of his self-control to not pin you against the wall.

The bell rings again, alerting you both of another's presence so you quickly pull apart, trying to quickly compose yourselves. Your eyes shoot to the door along with Dalton's.

You realize who it is, so he shyly lets his eyes wander around what's left of the store and sweeps the ashy floor.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Charlie smirks sipping her juice from a straw as she stands in the doorway.

"No, no," you reply nervously as heat pools in your cheeks. "Dalton and I were just, uh, cleaning up."

"Cleaning what? The floor or each other's throats?"

Dalton snickers at her candor, glancing at you until she continues.

"Good to see you're back though. And if you ask me, it's about time."

[anathemaspeaks]

omg…😭 i didn’t know which one to choose from your prompt list but after a while of considering i would like to request fluff 22(apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together) with shoto todoroki??

check out my prompt list and send in requests!

you were comfortable laying on shoto's lap in his dorm, lazily scrolling through your phone while he read a book, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, playing with your hair.

there was something in the air, something so minty - like candy canes, and something so shoto. you nuzzled into his body more, actively seeking the warmth of his body and the affection he showered you with.

he had the honor of calling you his girlfriend for a little over a month now, the both of you choosing to keep it secret because of the amount of gossip that would go around if people found out - and not to mention, his family's reaction.

it wasn't that either of you were scared, no. you both mutually wanted the peace of the honeymoon stage without anyone else interfering (i.e, enji todoroki plus the constant teasing from your friends).

(you didn't know he would always be this way with you - honeymoon stage or not. he was head over heels for you, since the very moment he laid his eyes on you, and that would never change.)

calling you his girl was the only blessing he had in this life, he thought. you cherished him just the same - even though it had been just a month of you dating, you both knew you'd loved each other way before that.

"you know, apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together?" he piped up, setting the book aside along with his reading glasses, opting to look at you instead, heterochromatic eyes gauging your reaction.

you put down your phone too, intrigued by the statement, a bright smile on your face.

"all of them? we did take quite some time didn't we" you laughed, remembering the way you both were practically a couple for months before you made it official.

you loved being with him alone, keeping the relationship private made these sweet moments of it just being you and him so much more intimate.

you both fell asleep on the couch, talking about memories from the days before you both were together - how oblivious he was to the fact that you liked him back.

you woke up to a series of notifications from both of your phones, kaminari's name flashing. you picked it up to check what it was, and why the hell he was spamming at 8 am in the morning.

you yawned, only to pause midway, eyes wide and mouth hung open.

"sho, baby? i don't think we're secret anymore" you said nervously, not knowing how he would react to the picture of you and him cuddling on the couch, your face buried in his neck and his arms wrapped around your waist.

only for him to hand you his phone.

you looked at him, puzzled.

"open it, love." he said, a small smile on his face and a look filled with so much adoration it made your heart hurt.

you turned it on, only to find that same picture as his wallpaper.

well, at least you guys didn't have to sneak out to the janitor's closet to meet up anymore.

sorry if this isn't what you wantedd i wrote whatever came to my mind, i hope you like it <3

[ashblooddragons]

This Mysterious Love (Chapter 9/?)

Series Masterlist

Daemons pov

I anxiously wait for the council meeting to begin. This is the earliest I ever been to one of these blasted meetings but Viserys sent a note saying today would be the day I truly am free of my blasted Bronze Bitch.

I'm already on my third glass of wine, the sweet tang of the honeyed wine hits my tongue. Though with each sip I find instead of soothing my nerves it is amplifying them. I keep wondering if Viserys changed his mind, perhaps burned the annulment papers so there would never be proof of them. Perhaps he changed my wife's mind. Too many possibilities run through my mind for me to truly celebrate.

I whip my head towards the door when they creak open only to find Otto walk in shutting the doors behind him. 

I see the look of shock wash over his face before he quickly covers it with his cold mask once more. 

“My Prince, what a surprise to see you here so early.” He says as he sets so papers on the table before taking a pot of ink and a quill that seems to be on its last legs out of his pocket. 

I presume he must be doing last minute paperwork before the meeting begins. Most likely things my brother should've done but neglected in favor of his idiot sculpture of Old Valyria. 

“Yes well I hear good news is to be spoken at this one. News worth my while for once.” I respond with a cocky grin that only deepens when I notice his scowl at my words.

“You are the Prince, the heir until the King deems otherwise or has a son. You should be here no matter what is spoken. Do you think I want to be here? I could be in my chambers reading poetry or philosophy with a glass of amber gold at my side. But I am here because it is my duty to the realm.”

I can't help but roll my eyes. Viserys has never seen me as his heir, he would rather have none than me. Seven hells he even made a deal so my first born son will sit the throne. Not me, never me. 

“Yes, well do tell my brother that for me. He doesn't care if I'm here, in fact he seems to prefer it if I were not.” I respond and from the sad sigh Otto releases I know I'm right.

“I cannot speak for your brother's thoughts. But I can speak of what I've observed. He wants you to be…compliant to his demands. He wants to seem strong in charge, even though you and I both know that isn't the case.” He says stopping when I let out a snort at the thought of Viserys seeming strong and capable. “And when you are in the room, the Lords turn to you. The mind of a warrior is ever helpful when one house declares war against the other. You know the people of Kingslanding and their needs, compassionate to those in need. Your brother is neither of those things. And seeing you have authority in a situation that he should be the powerful one in is well, frustrating to say the least.”

I freeze at his words, trying to find any jest in them only to find nothing but truth. 

“And how do you know this so well?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You seem to forget I myself am a second son. And yet I have more authority in all the Realms than my brother does even in our house. When I would visit he would be anything but kind. A snide comment here and a cruel look there. All because of one thing, the people turned to me for guidance instead of him. I am the Hand, it is only natural for them to want to know my opinion on matters. But my brother didn't see it that way. He saw his little brother try and take what is rightfully his. That is one of the many reasons I don't visit Oldtown anymore, that and too many memories.” He says before crumpling a paper and throwing it into the hearth. 

It is unsettling to realize I have more in common with this snake than I ever thought. I knew we were both ambitious but to hear him speak the same story I have went through so many times only for it not to be mine but his. Well it leaves a pit in my stomach.

But I then pick up his last words. ‘That and too many memories’. And there is only one clear answer. His wife. And I realize that they married in the Starry Sept, they had all their children in Oldtown, and the day she died he was preparing to visit Oldtown in hopes of his wife's health improving. No wonder he doesn't want to visit, there truly are too many memories. 

I go to speak when the doors open once more and the chatter of the other councilman fills the room. I watch as Lord Corlys and Lord Lyonal whisper amongst each other, I know Lord Strong is helping Colrys with having Laena become Queen though as far as I'm aware, that will never happen. 

And just when they all are about to sit my brother enters the room Rhaenyra grumbling beside him. From the scowl on his face I assume he had to drag her here again. 

“My Lords, good morrow.” Viserys says as we all stand in a show of respect. I never quite understood this rule but I know it will get me in more trouble than it's worth to stay seated. 

“Your Grace.” They all say as one with a bow of their heads. 

I wonder how often they say this for them to be so uninformed. Perhaps I should be here more often. I think before taking my seat eyeing my brother for the annulment papers. 

“You said you had news on your decision for your heir, Your Grace?” Lord Corlys speaks with a curious look in his eye. 

My brother shifts in his seat like a toddler about to be scolded. Gods we picked him to rule the seven Kingdoms. I think with a exasperated sigh. 

“Uh, yes. Though I know it's an unorthodox plan it is the one that will be set.” He starts before setting my annulment papers on the table. I can tell he has signed it for no one has worse handwriting than my brother. I swear a drunk monkey would do better. 

“And what is this unorthodox plan, Your Grace?” Lord Beesbury asks as he shuffles his papers around taking in each expense my brother has demanded, more than likely for some feast or tourney. 

“As you all can see I have annulled my brother's marriage to the Lady Rhea Royce.” He starts when the men gasp before Lord Lyonal reaches for the papers to inspect them.

“That you have…Your Grace.” Strong says confirming to the rest that it is true. 

“What does your brother's annulment have to do with the situation with the heir?” Lord Corlys asks, holding his hand over his glass as Rhaenyra goes to pour. 

You would think the girl would realize he doesn't like to drink during council meetings and yet each time he must remind her at least twice. Speaking of my niece I can see a look of anticipation in her eyes. She no doubt thinks she will be named heir instead. 

“Because I do not plan to remarry.” Viserys finally says which makes the lords all erupt into chatter of how he must. “Yes! Yes, I know I should. But I just…can't, I can't remarry after feeling what I did with Aemma. I can't, I just can't.” 

Some of the lords still seem upset even calculated with this news when Rhaenyra sets her hand on her Father's shoulders. 

“Calm yourself.” She whispers. Before pouring more wine in his chalice. 

My brother takes a moment to breathe before looking at us all again, he seems more determined “So instead of remarrying and having a son, I have decided that the first son born from my brother will be heir and King once I'm dead and gone. Hence the annulment as my brother has made it abundantly clear to this council he will never bed his ‘Bronze Bitch’.” 

I can see this calms the lords, especially ones such as Corlys and Lyonal. I watch as their eyes glaze over and new plans form.

But just as I noticed the men calm I notice a certain Princess fume. Rhaenyra slams the pitcher of wine on the table staring down at her Father. 

“You would have your Nephew on the throne, before your own daughter?” I can hear the hurt in her voice, and I don't think anyone can blame her. All her life she was just a daughter while Viserys chased after a son. One he would kill her Mother to have and yet that boy still didn't make it. 

“It is the way of things Rhaenyra. I surpassed Rhaenys because I am a son. What would it look like to the realm and the lords who stood behind Rhaenys if I were to name you my heir? They would turn to Daemon anyways because my Father surpassed Rhaenys as well, establishing that an uncle comes before a daughter. Even King Jaehaerys surpassed his niece Aerea. This is the way of the world Rhaenyra.” Viserys says trying to reason with her but she only glares at him more. “What would you have me do? I have already decided not to marry again because you demanded it. I can not uproot the realm anymore than I have!” 

The council room falls silent, deathly so. No man is willing to step in and nor would we want to. Viserys has just spoken the words they all were wondering. Why he isn't marrying is because he can't say no to his spoiled little girl. 

Rhaenyra says nothing, only turns and leaves the chambers with a slam of the doors. I don’t think she realizes that waasn’t the swift and powerful exit she thought it would be, it only showed every council member that she truly isn’t fit for the role.

None speak only glaring each other's way. I know they all are judging my brother, because that is exactly what I am doing. 

He is a man with all the power in the realm, and yet he can't say no to his daughter. He speaks of peace but forgets that at times for peace you must have wars. He truly is nothing but a weak man unable to deny his little girl anything. 

It is Otto who initiates the meeting once more with a clear of his throat. 

“Perhaps the Princess just needs a breather. Let us continue.” 

Viserys nods, finally looking at the lords once more. From the way he winces he sees our judgmental looks but like always he does not speak on it.  “As I was saying, because of this my brother will be in need of a wife, and the sonner the better. Does anyone have objections to this plan of action?” 

Each lord stops to think for a moment when Otto finally responds. “You are right, it is unorthodoxed, but it may yet keep the realm from tearing itself apart. I see no issue with this, if you truly will never remarry.” 

Though I hate that Otto is in a way trying to take this from me, I understand it. There is no point in me courting and wedding his daughter if my brother will remarry. He may say he won’t now but that doesn’t mean the desire won’t come in the future. 

Viserys seems to think on this before saying once more, he will not remarry, not ever. 

“Then I say this is a fine plan.” Otto says before turning towards his fellow council members. 

I watch as one by one each gives a nod, if reluctantly. 

“Then it is settled, this meeting is over.” Viserys says before standing and leaving so quickly I would think my brother was running. 

I watch as each lord looks my way as if assessing me, I know why they want one of their daughters to be my wife. Too bad my Little Hightower has already taken that spot for herself, even if she doesn't know it yet. 

I walk quickly through the market square holding a bouquet of flowers. Thankfully I didn't need to find that maid as I quickly asked the Lord Hand what his daughters favorite flowers are. 

I could see the slight joy cross his face when I did, it was clear his daughter has yet to speak to him of our little trip to the Dragonpit. 

“Forget me not, and gardenias. Preferably together but likes them both separate as well.” 

Though at first I thought it an odd pairing, the small blue clusters pair perfectly with the soft white petals of the gardenias.and for some reason it reminds me of her, maybe because she is always in such soft and light colored dresses. So in contrast to my niece who prefers deep rich fabrics.  

Those two truly are an odd pair. I think as I walk up the steps to the Red Keep. 

I don't miss the way Lords whisper to their daughters, normal the way after those same girls push their cleavage down so their busts practically fall out of the dress. It's truly a pathetic though amusing sight. For these Father's take pride in their most pious daughters, but as soon as a Prince is available to wed then they are them harlots. 

Some of these ladies go as far as to pretend to drop something only to bend over showing their busts before slowly rising again. I would perhaps think it an accident if it weren't for the fact these ladies make sure to stare right at me. 

Yet again, pathetic to say the least of these Lords. 

I move about the Keep looking in all the places I can think of, I even tried that damned Sept. But my Little Hightower seems to have disappeared. 

I at times wonder if I should ask a passing maid but decide I haven't stooped that low. I finally decide to call it a day when the sun starts setting.

 I will just have to give the flowers to her on the morrow. I think with a frown as I climb the steps towards my chambers. 

But just as I'm about to reach the top of the stairs do I hear someone muttering to themselves. 

“Just tell him you can't continue, it's that simple.” 

I know the voice instantly, the softness of each word, how even when angered you can't help but smile at the sound of them. My Little Hightower is at my chamber door. 

But just as that answer comes does another arise. 

What does she mean by we can't continue? 

And with that thought I take the final steps watching as she lifts and then drops her closed fist mumbling mumbling herself. 

I can't help but think how cute it Is that she can't knock on my door without it becoming a blushing mess. 

“I do believe when you want to get someone's attention it's easiest to knock on the door.” I jest with a smirk as she whirls around to face me. 

“I thought–” She starts staring at me with wide doe eyes.

“I know what you thought, but while you were panicking over a closed door, I was searching for you as well.” I say walking towards as I try not to crush the bouquet when her scent of vanilla fills my lungs. 

“I need to talk to you.” She says picky at her nails. 

I notice how some are already raw and bleeding. I reach forward taking her hand in mine as I inspect her fingers. I swipe my thumb over them frowning when she hisses in pain. 

“Well I figured that out, why else would you be at my door?” I tease reaching for her other hand when I see her start to raise towards her lips. 

I can't help but smirk at how small her hands are compared to mine. But also how soft and delicate they are to my rough and calloused ones. 

I watch as she blushes at the contact but then she quickly straightens her shoulders and gives me a glare trying to reach her hands from mine. 

“You asked to court me, and yet you are a married man–” She starts but I quickly cut her off.

“I was a married man, the annulment went through just this morning. I have the papers if you wish to see.” I say letting go of her hands for all of a moment as I reach into my jerkin pocket handing her the finalized papers. 

She quickly opens them scanning over each word and signature. Once she sees everything she needs see she folds up the papers with a sigh of relief. 

“Still, you were married when you asked to court me. You could've ruined me more than I already am.” 

I think over her words before nodding my head. “I must admit, when I asked I was already planning on losing my wife, one way or the other. It didn't matter much to me, I figured it didn't to you either when you came.” I say with a nonchalant shrug.

She only sighs, shaking her head moving to move past me and down the steps when I catch her arm. 

“Though if you want an apology, then here it is. I'm sorry I made you feel misled or used. It wasn't my intention. And though this isn't what they were meant for I suppose they can work as an apology gift.” I say holding out the bouquet for her.

She stares at them wide eyed before tentatively taking them into her hands admiring them.

“How did you know these were my favorites?” She asks, running her fingers along the soft petals. 

I bite the inside of my cheek deciding if I should be honest or not. It isn't a hard choice, I'm not going to make a fool of myself. 

“Lucky guess I suppose.” 

I can tell she doesn't believe me, and I don't blame her. I wouldn't believe me either. But she is better than I for she lets me keep my pride only nodding with a sly ‘sure’ smile. 

Asshe admires the flowers I take the time to admire her. Her hair is tied up in a braid bun with thin golden thread woven in. And her dress is a light grey. But what keeps my attention is the necklace on her neck. It's the one I gave her all those moons ago. 

She was most likely going to give it back, but now I think it will stay on that delicate throat. I think with a smirk.

When she looks up at me again that adorable blush has yet to leave her cheeks. “Well, now that we have everything cleared up…” She trails off too embarrassed to continue.

“Meet me in the gods woods tomorrow at midday. I will have a meal set for us.” I say as I reluctantly let go of her arm. 

She smiles giving me a small curtsy before turning to leave. The faint whisper of “yes, my Prince.” barely reaches my ears as she walks down the steps smelling her apology gift. 

When I enter I realize I made a mistake. I don't even know what she likes to eat!

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy @athzhowakar @fictionlurker @yn-jackson @edensfanfictionsuggestions @lady-ye @nommingonfood @dreamlandcreations @baybaybear1 @seaevans @ninihrtss @zara-zara11

[whillywisp]

Part 2 of Finnick being the most amazing dad/doting husband because I'm sure this is just therapy for my darlings with daddy issues and, well, issues🌱

Warnings: a little long, a little angstier today, implied mention of what happened to finnick. But still as fluffy as yesterday.

Part 1 ☁︎

If Finnick was caring and terrified during the pregnancy, multiply that by ten thousand and that's him postpartum. This man was convinced the very air his family breathed was out to get them. He refused to sleep because he was scared something would happen if he dared to get some rest but after you very gently (you yelled) explained to him that he cannot stay up for three nights straight because no Finnick the baby doesn't need to be held twenty five-eight please for the love of god get some damn sleep, he finally got some rest.

Recovering from pregnancy is a whole other nightmare but he made it bearable. Finnick's favourite thing in the entire world, as previously stated, was taking care of you. So you know he was at your beck and call round the clock. He helped you shower, helped you move around, stayed up with you during night time feedings so you wouldn't feel alone. He cooked every meal and made sure you had everything needed within an arm's reach. Sometimes you were so overcome with love for him that you would tug him close and pepper his face with kisses because where on earth would you find someone as gentle and caring and loving in this miserable world as this angel right here? Nowhere thank you.

But it was seeing him with her that had you convinced you saved a country in your last life (well, in this life and while it was group effort—) to be able to witness something so pure and gentle.

Finnick held his little girl like he she was made of the finest glass and would disappear if he so much as breathed too loud near her. His wide eyes traced every movement, every twitch of a muscle, every breath your baby took. If her little hand curling around his made his pretty eyes gloss over, you absolutely saw it and you made sure to tease him about, for which you were met with embarassed smiles but no denials. He wasn't ashamed of loving his family and least of all his baby girl.

But every spring came stained grey from winter's shadow, still lingering around the corner as if seeking spring's warmth too. And Finnick's past, to him, felt a bit like that.

What happened to Finnick was not a secret he carried in his pocket folded up with a list of names who still bragged of their contribution to his survival or hidden behind forced smiles anymore. What happened to Finnick was public and while he is as not at all at fault for it, humiliation and self-hatred didn't have a mind of its own and regardless of the circumstances and the people that were at fault for everything, he still blamed himself, he still dreaded the day his baby, his entire world, found out what happened. And he told you about it of course.

"What if...what if she hates me?"

You looked up from the book you had been reading, glancing at him where he lay on his back. Your daughter, now nine months old, fast asleep on his chest and your voice a little incredulous as you whisper back. "I'm not sure if you noticed but she worships the ground you walk on."

The smile he gives you is forlorn and pressed into the top of your daughter's head. He blinked, looking away from you and in the blink of an eye you had dropped your book, uncaring where it landed and gently craddled his face in your hands, wiping away tears that stained his emrald green eyes.

"Angel—"

"I don't want her to find out," he sniffed, tightening his arms around your daughter, taking a shuddering breath before continuing. "I do-don't want her to find out. She'll hate me. She'll think I'm so weak. I was so weak."

You sighed, gently pressing a kiss to his forehead before wiping away tears that escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Rage and grief burned in your heart with vengeance and you wished, not for the first time, the need to rip those wealthy capitolites to shreds with your bare hands, to make these vile people disappear, praying they'd take the pain they inflicted on him away with them.

But instead you used the same hands and pulled him close, letting him cry into your chest as you wrapped your arms around him and your daughter, whispering quietly but firmly to him. "Finnick Odair, those years of you life were bleak. Those years of your life were harsh. And you were a lot of things during them: broken, hurt, abused. But you weren't weak. You survived, you made sure to survive because you knew you needed to survive to be free. That was your way of winning. And if we raise this baby right, she'll love you regardless, hell even more, when she finds out. I love you and I agree with you on just about everything. But this, this I refuse to because the man i married, the boy I fell for, is a survivor."

He peered at you through wet lashes, sniffling softly as he pressed a kiss to your chest and then the top of your daughter's head: his quiet way of saying 'I love you. Thank you for being my light.' You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding, tightening your arms around your family.

You weren't lying when you said your daughter worshipped the ground he walked on. He was her hero. She followed him around the house since the minute she started crawling, screamed for him every morning and only calmed down when he picked her up and out of crib and in the most Finnick fashion, loved you in her gentle ways. She got that from me, he would say smugly as you had to eat another fistful of mushed baby food because of course your daughter picked that her way to show her love for you after having seen Finnick feed you fruit earlier. You would glare at him over her little sprout hair, identical to the one his hair was tied into on her highness' orders, your heart threatening to explode in your chest from the sheer amount of love it was filled with.

Your daughter was not only growing up to be the most precious child in the world, but she was also terrifyingly bright and understanding, even at such an young age. On days she noticed Finnick's need to be quiet or when he was too overwhelmed by everything, you noticed her making a conscious effort to stay quiet and keep her noises to a minimum. If Finnick needed time alone, she wouldn't bother him but spent her time with you, telling you about how daddy needs his quiet time and you had to hold onto the cushion behind you on the couch to hold back from crying, completely baffled at and extremely grateful that you both were raising an angel like her. But you weren't all that surprised when you thought about it a little more deeply. She was, after all, her daddy's little girl.

The day she starts kindergarten feels like the most emotional episode of the worst soap opera possible because you woke up to them...crying. And saying their goodbyes as he tearfully packed her lunch and did her hair, as if she was off to war. And it took quite a while to coax them both out of the house because I love you both but we cannot be late on the first day you guys please. But on the walk to kindergarten it was peaceful and full of laughter, because they could both pretend this was just their morning walk.

But of course, the tears were back when the gates closed with the promise of keeping them separated for three hours.

"What if she gets hungry and can't open the lunch box?"

You frowned looking up at him, shaking your head. You both were standing outside the gates to the school along with other worried parents, some taking a break from said worrying to side eye you both, something you had learned to tune out years ago.

"Finnick, she showed us she can open the lunch box just fine before we left home."

"But what if she can't here?" He insisted, looking down at you like you were the insane one for not considering that scenario. You sighed, grabbing his hand and tugging him away from the gates, trying to ease his worries.

"I promise you if she needs help with that, she will ask her teacher," you smiled at him, pecking his lips gently to stop him when he opens his mouth to voice another bizarre worry. "She'll be fine. She's our kid, she'll be perfectly fine."

He cracked a small smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you both start walking back, giving in with a small chuckle. "Yeah, okay. Maybe we should get a puppy to keep us busy now since she wants to do all grown up things go to scho..."

You look up at him as he suddenly trails off, confused as you catch him staring at something thoughtfully in the distance and follow his gaze to freeze against him slightly. In the distance, still as grey and imposing as ever, was the abandoned building which once held District 4's career academy. Strange feelings that always came with seeing it, both good and bad and nostalgic, make you tighten your grip on his hand and his around your shoulders.

Less than a decade ago, only a few metres and a small canal away from the kindergarten that your daughter now attended, children like her were being trained to kill, you and Finnick being a part of them. The thought of that still makes your blood run cold but the relief that rushed in right after, knowing your baby would never have to do that, is enough to let go of another hour of the countless you had spent in there, training to survive a system bigger than the arena could ever be.

You took a deep breath, forcing to maintain your light tone as you forced both of you to continue moving. "Heard they're building another school there, to keep the spirits of learning still alive and all that."

He smiled, kissing the top of your head fondly. "And I assume you want to help out in that?" The cheeky smile you had given him was answer enough but for him, it was like a sigh of relief, of brighter days no longer stained with gloom of his past.

People and places had changed to accomodate this new change, this everlasting spring, and maybe he was looking forward to letting his soul do the same too.

A/N: i agree this might've gone slightly offtopic in certain places but bare with me. I can't decide if want this to be the end or write more. But I hope you enjoyed this regardless of these things. All my love 🌱

[watchoutforthefanfics]

My John || Eleventh Doctor x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: At the news of an unknown distress call from the Tardis, the Doctor must go undercover. With the trust of thousands of years, he places himself (both watch and being) into your hands. Enter Dr. John Smith (not really a medical doctor just has his doctorate) your new roommate.

Inspired by: The Transmission by @fabulouspotatosister + 'ceilings' - Lizzy McAlpine

[[A/N: This was majorly based on the lyrics: 'But it's not real, and you don't exist'. So angst warning. But it has a happy ending, I swear. ]]

"It won't be long."

You could remember the creases of his face as he said it to you, the smooth of the worry in his brow -just because he didn't want you to see it. Well, you felt it now, the ache of days and nights and the heaviness of the watch in your pocket -you couldn't let go of it or put it out of your sight.

"When the time comes, you'll know."

You'd asked more about that then, about the how and the what and the why, but he waved it all off. 'You're clever,' he spoke, and you couldn't help the flutter in your stomach, '-you'll know.' So, you had prepared yourself to the life you found eerie compared to the previous one. Seeing John was... a domestic look on the Doctor and you weren't sure if it was good or bad for you.

"Honey, I'm home," he loudly announced, sing-songy with a cheer you couldn't quite match.

You exhaled, shook your hands, and stood to your feet, peeking out your bedroom door to where the Doctor... John stood.

He dressed differently now, more casual sometimes with the early morning pajamas. Today, however, he was dressed with a white button up and slacks, familiar, but matched with a long brown coat that had the same vibe as a trench coat but not the same material. And on the tip of his nose sat a pair of glasses, that you'd seen on the Doctor, yes, but rarely.

"Oh, so we have pet names now, dear?" You teased, watching as the tips of his ears began to burn a bright red.

It was natural, whatever banter you'd acquired. It was rather flirty, sure, but natural. You didn't want to think about what that meant too much.

"Dear?" He shriveled up his nose, "-What are we, an old married couple? I'd at least like to be dearest."

You snorted, walking towards the kitchen -which was right across the entry way, where he slipped off his shoes and placed his coat on the hanger. You were surprised by his organization in this light, especially since seeing some of the TARDIS's rooms.

"Okay, John dearest," you spoke, nose upturned as if you were pompous, "-may I ask how your day went? Were the kids okay today?"

He was a librarian at the local school, and sometimes on Saturdays he'd have extra readings for town square -he was quite the hit. With the voices he'd put on and the enthusiasm of the stories he told, the kids were enraptured. They weren't the only one.

"Of course," he grinned, "-haven't I told you, Thursday class kids are the best! Always desperate to learn that lot."

"Right," you carefully mixed the food upon the stove top, it wasn't on anymore but it was still warm enough to heat it up, "-that's the one with Charlotte in it, yeah?"

"Oh, yes, lovely Charlotte," he smiled, "-she'll go places I tell you. Today, she was negotiating an escape plan during recess, had a route down to the times."

You laughed, before siphoning off two servings and continuing, "And the meeting afterward?"

His demeanor dropped, as he pouted with a groan, "Boring, you know I hate to sit still for too long. Plus, George was just spewing nonsense statistics the whole time -didn't grasp onto much."

"Naturally," you hummed, taking a seat across from him as you placed his plate in front of you. You were usually the one to cook, not for... John's lack of trying, but more for the whole apartment's safety.

"What about you?" He countered, eyes attentive on you, it was unusual for you -the Doctor was usually everywhere all at once but John was often just an observer, "How was yours?"

The attention was odd, sometimes, but you'd grown to like it -despite how flustered it could make you. Depending on the day, and if his hair was messy and collar fussed. Luckily, he seemed well-composed today -a perfect picture of John, not the Doctor.

"Boring," you answered, not finding anything of note in your day. It was quiet mostly here, and you couldn't often chance going out without knowing where the Doctor was or if the threat was even still active.

"Oh, come off it," he dragged, his tone playful, "-you can do better than that. Go on, tell me. Anything new?"

You shook your head with a smile, "Not much, I'm just in the early stages now jotting ideas down in whatever form I can. There's not... It's all drafts."

You stayed home, under the illusion of being a writer -waiting for their big break. You did write though, detailing your adventures with well... him. It helped you sometimes when you missed him, and worst case scenario, it reminded you of what you were doing this all for. Because John's familiar soft smile and gleaming eyes were something you knew you could get yourself lost in.

You wished you could keep this version of him somewhere within you (locked away tight, yours), but you could never wish the lack of the Doctor in the world. Or even with you for that matter.

"I imagine it's lovely," he spoke, tone soft and the blush on his cheeks rising high, "-anything you make will be."

And there it was. The suspicious, fond gaze you'd caught from him now. It was happening more often, between the shared hours of the day you and John were domestic -connected personally, even. And you knew it felt that way, with him coming home, and sharing the space so intricately.

Just looking around the kitchen, you could see John just about in every crevice. An apron there (that said kiss the cook), some themed salt and pepper shakers (they were shaped like little animals), and the book he kept by the counter -he often sat there as you cooked, and you well enjoyed the company.

And everywhere else, you'd find him too. Little trinkets on bookshelves he just "couldn't live without", a few snowglobes from different cities (you found he was invested in traveling), and notepads just about everywhere. He always had something new to remember afterall.

"Well, thank you," you hummed, cursing yourself for the flush that went up your own cheeks. This isn't him, and he's not even himself.

How is that fair.

"But," you continued, playfully, "-I doubt you're an unbiased critic."

He made a big dramatic gesture with his hands to himself before speaking in a high-pitched tone, "Me? What? Never."

"John," you hummed, "-you're really not a good liar."

"Not to you," He smiled, his eyes carrying a whimsical shine that made your stomach swirl with familiarity, "You see right through me. I'll have you know, some of my classes think I'm a trainer of wild lions over the summer."

"You remember you teach children, right? They're fairly gullible."

"Pish-posh," he tsked, scooping some of the food into his mouth with a grace you found mostly unknown to the Doctor -other than tactful speeches and addressing an enemy, "-children are rather smart, just don't know how to use it yet."

"Yes, right," you countered, "-and this is an unbiased look, coming from a children's teacher, then?"

He rolled his eyes, a playfulness giving him away on his face, "Alright, you win. I'm shelving this argument for now."

"Just shelving it?"

"Yes," he confirmed, smiling up at you from his plate, and you felt your heart do a little twist in its place, "-anyway, I meant to ask you something."

You pursed your eyebrows at the sudden topic change, but pressed further on, "Yes?"

"Well, there's a-" he fidgetted with his fork, eyes now looking anywhere but you, "-a work thing Saturday. A big party, music and food. It's a celebration for getting halfway through the year, I suppose. Anyway, I just... well-"

"John?" You interrupted, clear, and concise but a touch concerned -had he seen something? Was it time?

"I'd like for you to come," he spit out, quicker than what was previously said but you still caught it (a symptom of the Doctor’s long-winded rants you supposed), "-with me. If you're not... busy."

"John," you hummed, with a grin, "-as if I'm ever too busy for you."

John smiled, the kind of smile the Doctor got when you were 'bloody brilliant' or so he'd put it. It made you feel special, all of your limbs felt like they were fizzing. The difference was now... you hadn't done anything. He looked at you like the stars were merely rocks, just because you'd said you'd go to a work party with him.

The Doctor wouldn't have done that. And that fact made your stomach twist in guilt, this wasn't really him. John wasn't really a person, just a shell of who he was meant to be and you were the only person so close to him.

And here you were, feeling things that you shouldn't with a man who only had you within this world.

Sure, he was giving you signals. Signals that made your head spin because you had always wanted them from that face, but it wasn't him. It's not fair.

"Brilliant," he grinned in response, before taking the two of your plates away with the same enthusiasm. He wouldn't wash them, he never did directly after dinner. Always said he didn't want to waste a moment.

And maybe you didn't want to either.

The next few days were busy for you, more than usual, you'd been trying to trace who had been after him for the past year. It had been a year. You were getting nowhere, mostly because he hadn't told you anything -'he' being the Doctor.

So, you weren't exactly ready when Saturday crawled up on you. John had practically been bouncing off the walls, fidgeting with his tie. He hadn't looked at you once as he navigated the space, grabbing things he'd strewn about -he looked so natural here. Fit here, with you.

It'd been familiar. You missed him.

Every day you did.

The Doctor jumping around the space, eager to tell you about the hills that stars grew on, or the alien race that communicated through smell.

"Isn't it brilliant?" He'd always be grinning so bright it could blind you, and he'd twirl around the controls for good measure. Eyes looking to you for your reaction, beautiful green twinkling with wonder you thought you'd lost when you were six. You had lost when you were six, but he... he brought it back.

"Y/N?" he spoke, well not him... but him, "Everything alright?"

John was in your space, a few steps away -maybe afraid to bridge the gap, he extended a hand. You'd realized then you were crying, the tears silent against your cheeks -you didn't even realize...

"If you're not-" he started, his fingers clenching in the air between the two of you like he'd wanted to touch you but wasn't sure, "If you don't want to go, we can stay."

We, he'd always said something like that -a package deal. Maybe you could live in your delusions for a bit, you could be selfish once.

With a breath, you closed the gap -connecting your hands and intertwining your fingers with his. His hand moved naturally... like it was meant for this... like his hand was meant to be in yours. It was intimate, something about you not being in direct danger and still holding him close.

You were safe, in your apartment; the two of you dressed dashingly, all for a party you were now bound to be late to.

"Wish I could," clearing your throat of the tears, you swung your hand and his between the two of you with the smallest of smiles, "-but my date is pretty handsome, couldn't bare to let him down."

John chuckled, you could still see the smear of concern in the pull of his brows but he could never really help it with you, "Handsome, really? This date seems very lucky then. From where I'm looking-"

You snorted, shaking your head and letting go of his hand -heading towards the apartment door, "We're going to be late, John."

"You started it," he pouted, before spinning around in a circle -eyes darting, "-wait, where's my coat?"

"John, darling," you hummed, pointing to the coat that was draped right across the back of the couch.

"Right, yes," he responded, grabbing it before freezing in place like your words had just now processed, "-did you say... darling?"

"Good observation."

"That's new, isn't it?" he asked, eyes intent on you for a moment -like you were a mystery he couldn't solve, "-I like it."

"Oh hush you," you snickered, not lingering on the slip any longer than you wanted to, "-we are so late."

John grinned bright and you saw him then -adventurous and wonderful, as he approached you -almost giddy, "I wouldn't have it any other way, darling."

The party was fuller than you'd expected, really. It wasn't just in some breakroom with dollar streamers and cupcakes with the kind of icing that stained your mouth. There were lights, music, and it was catered. With a mouthwatering buffet, mind you.

"John," you hush whispered, "-you didn't tell me it was fancy."

"How was I supposed to know?" he whispered back, defensive, "-This is my first one too!"

At that moment, two men walked up -each in a more dashing suit than the other, groomed to the nines. You truly doubted these guys were teachers, but based on the man that stood by your side... maybe it was true.

"Oh my," the taller one, who if you had to guess was the gym teacher spoke, eyes caught on you, "-John, is this the infamous Y/N?"

The other man straightened, eyes landing on yours, "No way!"

"Infamous?" You turned to John with a questioning brow, now this was interesting.

"It's not-"

"I'm Joseph," the taller one extended his hand to shake, before motioning to the man beside him, "-and this is my husband, Elliot."

"Not that I need to tell you," you smiled towards John, "-but I'm Y/N. It's wonderful to meet you."

"Gosh," Joseph began with a teasing smile toward John, who seemed like a branch in the wind, "-I feel like I know you already. John here's told me so much-"

"Alright," John erupted, the tips of his ears burning bright red -avoiding his eyes to yours, "-that's enough."

You added with a smile, playful, "Dearest, I'm not so sure. I'm quite interested in-"

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the quirk on his lips, "Yeah, yeah. You've had your fun. Now dance with me."

"What?"

"You promised me a dance, silly," he reiterated, pulling you away from the two to a space with less people -the music soft and echoing across the space, "-don't you remember?"

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the pull, "I certainly did not."

"Okay, well, then..." he paused, thinking and still holding your hand between the two of you -loosely, "-I'm asking you now. Will you dance with me?"

You stared at him, his face dancing in the lighting of the space and that strand of his hair falling in front of his eyes like it always did -god, you'd gotten used to him. There was an urge to brush it away, to hold his face -his precious, precious face.

Instead, you squeezed his hand, "Of course."

He smiled, and pulled you to the floor -eyes intent and focused, the music was slow, melodic. You assumed it was requested, based on the nature of the tones, didn't feel quite party to you.

"John," you confessed, "-I really don't know how to dance to this."

He laughed to himself, before gently guiding you the rest of the way to floor, "Don't worry, follow my lead."

John moved your hand to his shoulder, placed his hand on your back, and intertwined your free hands together without a second thought. It felt personal, really to be a breath away from him -for his hands to holding you close. Not in a hug, where you couldn't see his eyes.

But now you could.

"See, watch," he hummed, moving to step in a square -you knew this part, "-you're a natural!"

"You're just saying that," you echoed with a smile, unused to the flattery so close. So tantalizingly close that you could feel the breath of it on your lips. This had never happened.

"Y/N," he spoke, hushed, just for you to hear, "-did you ever think... you could... we could, really-"

"Yes?" you asked, eyes caught in his as you desperately tried to not step on his toes.

"Well, if you-" he began, before frowning, "-if you wanted we could maybe-"

A scream interrupted his sentence, loud and brash, and something within you snapped. You tried to get eyes on the obstruction, but the crowds running just dragged your eyes elsewhere. '... you'll know.'

"We know he's here," a voice slithered, yes slithered, through the crowd -the tone, unnatural, "-give him to us. NOW."

"When the time comes, you'll know."

Your eyes darted to John's who were frantically looking to you, almost checking you over, "John, we have to go."

He seemed speechless, "O-Okay."

You'd kept the watch on you, you could hardly leave it out of your sight -so the cold tingle against your side was quite comforting now. The clothes you were wearing didn't have much pocket space, but it had... something, after all.

Where to, you stared out at the intricate hallways, where to?

"WHERE IS HE?!"

There was a door down the way, space looked small, but it would have to work. You didn't have many options.

Pulling him into the space (a janitor's closet by the looks of it), you shut the door behind you two -making sure it wasn't an automatic lock. The darkness was all encompassing before you found the switch as you brushed your fingers along the wall.

"When you said out, I assumed you meant, well-" he spoke, tone shaky and it was moments like this where the difference was stark, "-out."

"John," you spoke, directly looking into his eyes, "-do you trust me?"

"What, yes-" he sputtered out, eyes lost and it would've been cute had you not been in the situation you were.

"Good," you spoke, before sticking your hand into his coat's pocket -the side he never used, and fished out what you were looking for. The sleek metal in your hand was unusual sure, but not... unwelcome, really.

John stared at it, eyes wide and breaths hollowing, "What... is that? I've never even seen that before! Was that in there the whole-"

"John, this is hard to explain," you exhaled, digging into your own pocket to pull out the watch -it was warm in your hands, "-but you are not John Smith."

"What?!"

"This," you pulled his hand over the watch in yours, you could almost feel it react, "-is you."

"Y/N," he echoed, "-I think you hit your head. You're acting-"

"Crazy," you finished, "-I know."

You could almost see the spandrels of gold connecting with his fingertips, twisting through the air to meet his skin. They were small though, delicate, easily cleared if he wanted them to be.

"Your name is the Doctor, you are an alien-"

"An alien?!"

"-the last one of your kind, Timelord," you continued, gently turning the watch to be in his hand, "-and the world needs you."

"This is-" he began, backing away -trying to push the watch back into your hands, "-ridiculous. My name is John Smith, I'm a librarian at Dexington Primary School. I have been for a year-"

"John-" you began -desperate.

"I got my degree, I met you on campus-" his tone was still fond somehow, "-you spilled your coffee on me, and wanted me to apologize-"

"John-" you interrupted, you couldn't hear this. Not now. Not when you were about to lose him.

"And I should've been mad. I should've been, but your smile was brilliant and I couldn't even think straight-"

"John, please." You echoed, tone gentle, soft.

"I thought you were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen," he looked up at you, eyes red and watery, "...How can that not be real?"

"Oh John," you hummed, tears of your own gathering -your hand coming to rest on his cheek, idly tracing the skin there, "-my darling John. It was."

John leaned into your palm, tears floating down his cheeks, and you wiped them away.

"This," you whispered, a bit breathless from the tears of your own and pointed between the two of you, "-was real. I know that."

"Then, why-" he began, eyes fluttering all over your face.

"You're-" you sighed, shakily and hesitant to let him go, "-you're not you, John. Not really."

"I want to be-" he started, reflecting his hand on your face -wiping at your tears, "-I just want to be your John. Why can't I?"

"Because you're the Doctor," you hummed, your heart breaking in your chest, "-and I can't take that away from the world."

He seemed to understand then, looking down at the watch with purpose -trying to see it for it was, you thought. His hands were shaking, and his eyes were heavy with a feeling you'd seen before in them, in the Doctor's eyes.

"I..." he whispered, looking back up into your eyes, "-I love you. Truly, I- I do. You have to know that, before I... Before I go."

"My John," you were crying now, the twist in your chest strong - an ache, a yearning, "-I love you too."

Without a second thought, you pushed forward, placing your other hand on his face -connecting your lips to his. You could be selfish twice, you decided, as you held his precious, precious face between your fingers.

It was bittersweet, the salt of your tears soiling your lips, but you really honestly couldn't change a thing. You wouldn't.

It was an ending you wouldn't forget.

With a breath, you pulled apart but let your fingers stay for a moment -eyes dancing around his face, to remember this. To remember John.

Because this... wasn't the Doctor, no matter how hard you wished it to be. It would be gone so very soon.

"You were lovely," you hummed, brushing his hair back and letting your fingers linger on his skin, "-I'll miss you."

With that, you stepped back.

"I'll miss you too."

He stared at you, green eyes so open, so vulnerable, he was hesitant -toying around with the watch in his fingers. You exhaled, shakily, and nodded.

John smiled, a brief one that you tried to commit to your brain, so fond... so loving. He didn't need to say anything else, so he flicked open the watch, and golden light burst into the room. It was so bright, you had to hide your eyes in the crook of your arm -the warmth biting up against your skin. It felt like a harsher version of the sun, searing across your skin, but it wasn't necessarily hurting.

And then, it stopped.

You looked up from behind your arm, and-

"Bloody hell," he spoke, gruff to himself, as he seemed to try to get something out of his ear, "-that was a rough one."

The joy you felt in your heart was immeasurable, but you still felt quite... broken open, splayed out like a puddle on the floor, and he was not.

He wiped at his eyes, noticing the tears -most likely, "What was I even-"

His eyes caught onto you, the eyes that you had missed -the extra heaviness, the extra wonder, and the infinite knowledge in that brain of his.

He lit up into a smile so bright that warmed you, "Y/N! Thank the stars, you look terrific."

The Doctor leaned forward, brushing a hand through your hair -it was longer now, "How long has it been?"

You paused, "About a year."

"Oh," he hummed, eyes everywhere but your face -thoughts quick and unraveling, "-that was a bit of miscalculation on my part... My bad. I didn’t think-"

His eyes finally landed on you, and he faltered. Moving quickly toward you, his hands unwittingly went to your face, wiping at the tears that had fled there. Your face was no doubt a wreck, sniffling nose and eyes scrubbed red.

"Have you been-" the Doctor paused, speaking softer, "Have you been crying?"

"I..." you began, but couldn't finish it.

"I was crying, too," he continued, "-well, not me but... me. What, so we were crying together that's-"

He fell silent, looking at you again -almost analyzing. There was a gleam, a shine of understanding, and you knew.

"You loved him," he concluded. The silence echoing loud after the words, bouncing around your head like a pinball machine, "-didn't you?"

You couldn't do this now, you really couldn't do this now, "Doctor, now is not the time."

Before he could say another word, you dug the screwdriver out of your pocket -it was shoved there when you... it didn't matter. Not now.

He narrowed his eyes at you, saying something you recognized to be 'we'll talk later', before accepting the tool with a grin, "Right then, duty calls, doesn't it?"

"As always," you quipped. He rewarded you with a grin that send your stomach into knots, one you'd missed so dearly.

The aliens who had come to him were fairly easy to handle, they were a bit too overconfident in their planning. The Doctor had simply slipped right in, and they hadn't been prepared for it. Hardly worth a year.

They underestimated him, you could tell. He was pouting about it. Had been for the last 10 minutes.

"What, they really thought I would fall for that?" He muttered to himself, as you both roamed the area -checking up on the masses, keeping an eye out for any injury that needed to be urgently dealt with.

And then you saw them, the men: Joseph and Elliot. They sat huddled together, comforting each other with what looked like some other teachers -their eyes widened in relief at the sight of the two of you, you assumed.

"Y/N, John!" Joseph exclaimed, the pull of his eyebrows lessening, "Thank god, you two are alright, are you hurt anywhere?"

He briefly scanned the two of you, seeming to come up with nothing, "-good."

"Joseph, right?" The Doctor asked, you knew he retained partial memories, so it made sense, "-Is everyone okay over here?"

"Yeah," Joseph answered, eyes flickering down the line, "-George sprained an ankle, but that seems to be the worst thing so far."

He was confused, you could tell by this new dynamic and the shift in... John. Your weren't sure how to even start in an explanation though, and the Doctor didn't seem too worried so you just waved it off.

"You're..." Elliot began, observing, "... different, John. You sure you okay?"

The Doctor chuckled, "I'm quite alright, never been better really. I'm just... not quite John."

"If I hadn't seen snake people about 10 minutes ago," Joseph responded, "-I'd say that's weird... but now? Do you just... You're not John?"

"No, well yes," the Doctor scrambled, "-John is like a piece of me. Just a part of my whole self, really. I... felt all the things John felt, saw what he saw. It just wasn't fully me."

They nodded, and he took it as means to continue.

"The rest of me was locked away, kind of," he spoke, face trying to track what he'd say, "-does that make sense?"

"The most I've heard today," Joseph quipped, "-which is not very much."

"Well," he grinned -wide and bright, the knowledge of worlds blooming behind his eyes, "-that's all I can ask, really."

"Are you two okay?" You asked, eyeing the two with a sensitive eye.

"Yes," they smiled at you, both of them had such kind eyes, "-we came up unscathed, luckily."

You sighed in relief, "Okay, good."

"Right then," he hummed, eyeing you with an eye you found familiar, questioning concern, "-off we pop, keep in touch, will you?"

"Don't you know it... uh-"

"The Doctor," you clarified, "-world-saving alien."

"Doctor, okay," he laughed -despite looking quite in shock, it was almost just adding to the pile rather than well... being a new type of weird, "-try and stay safe, will you? I may not... know you, but I know John. I rather cared for that bloke."

"We will," you answered, your smile a little bittersweet -you couldn't think about it too much now. Later.

The plan originally had been to go to the Tardis, but this outfit had been one of your best -you wouldn't let it be lost deep in the hallways. You'd already lost at least 3 hoodies in there -limited edition ones, too. And the Doctor was like a lost puppy, so he'd be sure to follow behind.

John had been the same in that sense, showing you things, gravitating towards the same room, and practically pouting for entertainment when you sat still for too long.

The trip up the stairwell was unusually silent, you'd felt odd in the presence of the Doctor and well... silence. It felt like he was always talking, and if by some chance he wasn't, he was everywhere. Big motions filling up a space, he'd almost always have a spotlight shining on him -attention on him anywhere he went.

It was the curse of the companion to fall in love with the wonder, one you knew well.

But this part of the Doctor was rarely there, this part was the kind where he'd stay silent for days -thinking about something in particular. An anniversary of an event, he wouldn't say what; the only way you could tell was he wouldn't be jumping to go elsewhere. He'd stay right there.

You felt that same part here, following you to the apartment that you... that you used to share. Kind of. You weren't quite sure where his memories were, what he remembered about the year (or even the past few hours for that matter).

The door swung open, and the silence only intensified. Large and unmoveable, you were sure how to even approach it. Or if he even wanted you too.

"It's... blurry," he spoke, dusting his fingers along a snowglobe (one of his, technically) -you held back the twinge in your heart. John was everywhere in here.

"What is?" You questioned, absentmindedly playing the ends of one of the coats that hung there -it wasn't yours, but you thought you might keep it.

"The line between me and him," he answered, eyes scattering to different things littering across the space.

Looking at it, it looked very domestic.

The pairs of shoes by the door, the mugs paired by the stove -ready for tea, the pair of pillows decorating the couch -you'd both chosen one. It felt so... stuck together, you could barely breathe.

"There's things I know I..."

"Doctor," you shook your head, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat -you were grieving... over someone right in front of you, "-you don't have to do this..."

He pursed his lips at you, furrowing his brow, "Do what?"

"This," you motioned to him, holding the snowglobe -close to his chest, "-I know John isn't you. You don't have to... I know."

"Y/N," he began, now placing the trinket back on the shelf, "-what are you talking about?"

"Doctor, it's embarrassing enough as it is."

"What is-" He questioned, roaming closer, "Y/N, you're making no sense."

"Stop," you rolled your eyes, walking further into the room, and of course he only followed you. What were you going to do with all this?

"Look at me," he held your biceps, guiding your eyes to his, "-does it look like I'm lying to you?"

You squinted at his, trying to closely analyze his face -you knew it, his tells, his existence was painted in the skull of your brain. Both Timelord and human now, you supposed.

"No," you decided -still not quite over the lump of emotion in your throat, would you ever be?

"Right then," he cleared his throat awkwardly and let go of your arms, "-good."

This was something starkly different, the Doctor fluttering away from affection so easily -stepping out of the space and not being aware anymore. John... He felt like he was looking at you, always looking at you. Maybe because he had nothing else to look at, but you liked to think it was because he wanted to. You hoped he did.

"Stop-" the Doctor interjected, the silence of the room breaking like glass -harsh and loud, "Stop thinking so loud."

You rolled your eyes, not wishing to deal with this side of him now -not when you felt like you were digging a grave for someone standing right in front of you. It was odd, the twisted feeling of watching what you knew to be the Doctor around the room. (The only real difference being the godforsaken bowtie. He'd stolen it at the party, the janitor -an older man with a kind smile, had easily given it away.)

He belonged here, you knew that. Hell, even before the last year, the Doctor would pop in for visits -movie nights, just to try something human he'd heard about, or his impatience on waiting for you. He had a spot then, sat on one of your wider windowsills -staring down at the streets below, or the lit up city, you weren't sure. The man just couldn't sit in a regular chair.

John hadn't done that. Sure, he'd made himself cozy in every space possible that he could, including the kitchen cabinets once (hell of a day), but never... never the windowsill. He hadn't wondered about what was outside, his whole world was right...

"Here," you hummed to yourself, tracing the tips of books on the shelves.

You saw that now, John had no need for adventure, no spark to see something new. He'd been content. Happy with just you.

The Doctor couldn't be like that, you knew that. He never could.

You weren't sure you'd ask him to.

"I wish I could," the Doctor spoke, a chuckle lost in the whisper of his words.

"What?"

He seemed to pause, thinking about his next words -the Doctor thinking never really meant anything good. But, you still found you waited.

"Your John," he finished, "-I wish I could be him."

You froze in your place, your breath hitching in your lungs -so, he had remembered, "We really don't have to-"

He seemed to continue, as if your words hadn't even been spoke, "You have to understand, Y/N, John is a part of me. Sure, without the extra bits, but still me. Me in my most basic form, human."

You didn't know what to say.

"Well," the Doctor corrected, "-human...ish. Not really an exact science, just kind of takes the regeneration energy and-"

"Doctor," you exhaled, tired, "-what is this all about?"

"You don't," he began, face furrowed into one of curious concern, "-You don't know?"

"Know what?"

He seemed to falter to a pause, like he was planning his next move. Or thinking of his next words again. You wondered what he had to be so careful about -you misinterpreting?

In a blink, he was in front of you -digging around through his pocket before he found what he was looking for -the watch, "Did I ever tell you how this works? The Chameleon Arch?"

"You mean the watch?" you questioned.

"I'll take that as a no, then," he started, fingers mindlessly tracing the Gallifreyan on the front, "-the technical part of it is called a Chameleon Arch, Gallifreyan tech. Original duty is to change an individual's species. Technically, it changes your biology -a very painful process, really, I'd know."

"Right," you flinched, remembering the brief moment he'd experienced it before, "-I... remember."

He frowned at you, seeming to not remember that you had seen that, "It's connected to the Tardis, gives me the backstory, but... it's never been an exact science."

You paused, looking at the Doctor with eyes of curiousity -he seemed to have a point to this ramble. He never had a point to his rambles.

"It takes bits and pieces from me," he hummed, demostrating with the air in front of his hands, "-the person it creates isn't entirely from the Tardis, not really."

"What do you mean?"

"Like a motivation," he hummed, debating on whether or not finish it -eyes looking your direction but not at you, "-or a hobby, or a..."

The Doctor froze in his place, eyes focused on his hands in front of him -slowly, his eyes rose up to meet yours, "A... feeling."

You were confused for a moment, watching him. He'd frozen in place, yet his eyes stayed trained on yours. You couldn't quite grasp it, what he was trying to convey to you. Until...

Until you truly looked at him.

There was something erry about him, something on his face that felt off, but at the same time, ever so natural. So right, yet so wrong.

And then it hit you, there it was. The suspicious, fond gaze.

"Doctor," you spoke, disbelieving.

"Y/N, you have to know," he continued, despite your plea, "-you really truly have to-"

"Doctor, please," you hadn't wanted to go through this again -the hope of loving the Doctor could only hurt you, "-you aren't thinking straight. Th-That's John, not you-"

He was confused, twisting memories together, you couldn't... you couldn't chance it.

"Y/N," he was getting closer to you now, voice steady and distinct, "-it started with me."

You froze in place, blinking as if he'd vanish right in front of your eyes. It was almost like a hallucination for a second, because he (the Doctor, not John) could not mean what you thought he meant.

"It took the bit of me that was..." he corrected, watching you as if you could break with slightest of touches, "-is in love with you."

"You do?" you began, sputtering -you weren't sure what to say, "...N-Not John?"

"Well, technically both," he grinned and you felt your stomach twist into a pretzel. God, what were you going to do with him?

"Oh, shut it," you huffed out.

You could definitely be selfish a third time afterall.

In a blink, you pulled his face towards yours -the steps towards him quick and brash but the way you touched his face was different. Gentle, you trailed your finger along his cheekbone for a second.

Your breath mixed with his, he was just looking at you. Like there was nothing else to look at.

Like he was... happy with just you.

God had he been hiding that look the whole time? -peeking over books as you read them, staring at you as you walked around the Tardis fitting in just like a missing puzzle piece.

"It was all me," he whispered, distracted, sure, but still answering you. Stupid Timelord telepathy and stupid handsome aliens.

And maybe you were a little stupid too, but he didn't need the ego boost, truly.

"Hey-" he pouted out, and the jut of his lip almost made your heart flatline -sure you were almost there but you hadn't worked up to it yet.

The Doctor paused, noticing your stiffening in place, the way your eyes darted to his mouth for a second -a split second, and he grinned.

And for a second you thought he might pull back, and make up some excuse, but instead, his hand came up to the side of your face. Surprisingly smooth fingertips detailing the dips and pulls of your face, you could barely breathe at the closeness.

"Wonderful," he spoke, so quiet you could barely hear him -made you wonder if was even for you to hear. Or if it was just... for him, "-You're wonderful."

"Doctor," you almost cried, the movement so soft, so careful. Like he never wanted to forget the face. You held his face close, a breath away from you and this burst of fondness flooding your chest you just couldn't even describe really.

So, you held his face, trailing your fingers along his jaw -showing it the only truest way you knew how, "My Doctor, my darling Doctor."

And you kissed him.

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch17 Miscommunications And Escape Plans P2

(Warnings: Mentions of Yn's wounds, Koyuki's condition, and some fighting/blood/scratches from the mers.

The story is almost done! Almost a few chapters left!:))

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@shadyd3ar @amypop122 @azuredragonstrike

@mimisweetz @chaoticoperatorduckhairdo @staarflowerr @aleee-386 @summrwalkr

@nicora04 @miniverse-zen

Remember if you want to be added to the tag list lemme know.

You wished you knew what happened to them all after they started sparing. Or in Akaza's and Tengen's case actually fighting after purposely antagonizing him. The two hissing at each other and snarling out. Honestly you couldn't even tell who was winning because most of the fight was UNDER the water with them randomly popping up every few seconds either splashing up huge waves or showing themselves punching, or Akaza having Tengen in a headlock or some other thing 

Actually it was Kanae who once again took action after a particular shark mer shouted out-

"KANAE!! ARE YOU FUCKING WATCHING!?" Somehow he had gotten himself free from the deadpanned Giyuu and now held the bored merman in a choke hold of his own looking hopefully at the pink eyed woman. "I'm dedicating this win to you!"

Her pretty face quickly turned to a frown and she had enough. Reaching out to grab the window and slam it back shut with surprisingly enough strength to shake the glass panes. The loud THUD from the window had everyone aside from Tengen and Akaza still clawing and biting at each other to give pause, looking up just as the curtains were harshly drawn. 

"I am at my limits! This has gone too far! I explained it to him how many times?!," Kanae muttered to herself turning around and beginning to stomp off towards the door. "I'm going to go work off some stress and make everyone lunch! Let them all sort themselves out!"

Everyone flinched as the door was thrown open and Kanae stomped out of sight. The footfalls echoing away heading towards assembly the kitchen area before everyone looked at one another. You exchanged looks with Mitsuri before slowly turning to Shinobu, mouth opening-

"Don't worry about her." Shinobu didn't look the least bit bothered waving a hand. "She needs to blow off the stress anyways. Why don't you just try to relax and get some rest. Today's already been pretty exciting for you wasn't it?"

"I-..Well maybe I should on them first?" You gave a glance at the window. "To make sure they're alright?"

"Don't give them anymore attention." She shook her head no firmly. "You'll just be feeding into Tengen's 'fantastic' ideas and who knows what the gems for brains will do next?"

Actually...After that whole scary chase sequence and sudden kiss attack (which you were NOT blushing remembering!) you think you had better let everyone cool down and maybe take a stand back...Yeah. that's probably the better idea. So you followed Shinobu's advice no matter how difficult it was, and busied yourself with just going back to read the book. Who knows? It might have more helpful information. 

However you had a hard time sleeping that night. There was some kind of..low humming along with the wind. It started out as some kind of low baritone but then pitched up to a few high notes. It almost sounded like a wind chime was ringing alongside the deep humming of a horn. A strange mixture to be sure, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was more annoying than anything since you didn't fall asleep for at least an hour. 

The next day was when you were sure going to be interesting. You really hadn't seen your friends in so long and was wondering if they were ok. You wanted to really go out and see how they were but shortly after you woke up there was another meeting with all of you courtesy of Kanae. The Kocho girl had pushed in the door startling both you and Koyuki as she practically forced her way in and carried a large black slate with white chalk, with more of that fish soup(yuck) and some bread. At least there was something else to wash it down with. Again Kanae was careful in making sure no one else was around before setting down the chalkboard. 

"Alright. I think I have most everything figured out, but because you're new we need to clue you in " she explained already drawing a sixth stick figured next to the five ones already present.

"Where's the others?" The only ones here were you, Kanae, and Koyuki but Koyuki was still fast asleep. 

"Mitsuri is keeping Obanai busy. He's decided to help himself inside again, and my sisters are out gathering more herbs to make it look normal."

"Good idea." You looked back down to the chalkboard between you two trying not to jostle your shoulder which was still extremely more too much. "Clue me in here." You motioned towards the stick figures and the mini drawings around them.

She nodded looking focused. "In about a week the tides rise and the current near here is strongest! Because of the abundance of wildlife during these hours, they usually all go out hunting for most of the night. All we need is a good few hours of a strong current and we can be on land."

"What do we do when we get back to land?"

"We'll figure that out when we get there. Right now the problem is getting onto land." The chalk made a small line as she circled the stick figures and what looked like a crudely drawn window.  "We found enough pillows to stuff under our blankets to make it look like we're just sleeping in." In case of Obanai you supposed. "We'll wait until they're all gone and climb through the back window. It's on the side of the house not facing the beach so they won't see us if we go that way."

"Good idea! But where's the boat exactly?" 

Her voice dropped to almost a whisper as she quickly glanced at the locked door before looking back to you. "It's just up the beach nearly on the far side, but we know a short cut to get there through the woods. We found a few oars in case we need to paddle our way there." She pointed out a crudely drawn boat.

"Sounds good, but what do we do in the meantime?" 

"Act as we always do. If they don't suspect anything, then we can have a better chance of escaping." Her smile came back a little bit looking at the board.. before her hand wiped across the black smearing the white away and erasing any existence of their plan. 

"Oh, wow." 

"I know! I thought about this a lot-"

"No. I can see why Sanemi fell for you." Pink eyes blinked up to kind f/c orbs as you smiled. "You're really pretty when you smile! I can see why he might like you."

She stared at you longer before frowning and looking back down to the slate. "I don't care. I want to go home. N-Not spend the rest of my days being hounded by a shark. I don't care how many times he tries to serenade me."

You paused in the middle of taking a bite of your bread to look at her. "What?"

"Ugh. He does it every other day. You wouldn't know only being here for four days. He just sits on the beach and starts singing, and he always looks like he's after my approval or something! He never goes away unless I say it's nice O-Or I'm too tired!" Her face turned into a pretty pour as she grumpily gestured at nothing. "Who does he think I am? I'm not some girl who he can just woo into his arms and-"

"Oh that's cute." Her face snapped to your smirk so fast that her head might've popped off if it wasn't attached to her neck. "You so like him."

"WHAT?!" Immediately her face lit up a pink and you laughed. 

"Oh come on. I didn't know that I was being flirted with before because I knew absolutely nothing about mermaids." The bread was pointed right at her. "But I'm certainly an expert on detecting human emotions."

"Yes? A-And how w-would you kn-kn-know that?!"

"I'm a florist. Do you know how many people bought flowers from me?" Your deadpanned brows rose higher at her face which mysteriously started to go a pink. "How many couples have come in looking for flowers for their crushes?" A bite was taken out of the breath making your voice slightly muffled. "How many weddings I did arrangements for? I've seen so many people in love, that I know it when I see it."

Her mouth opened up and no noise came out..Her head shook before she frowned harder. "I-I am not!"

"Uh. Stuttering, blushing, hardcore denial.." You swallowed. "Not to mention we all saw the way you watched Sanemi tussle with Giyuu the other day. Can't say I blame you. A nice beefy shark man, all soft for only you."

"S-Stop!"

You laughed as she hid her face in her hands, it went from pink to red. "Come on. Every girl dreams of being serenaded by moonlight. That's like the most romantic thing a guy could do other than coming to you on a pure white stallion." You grinned wider. "He's outside right now you know. I bet he'd be really happy to know that you like him-"

"My god's! If you say anything about this, then I won't treat you anymore!"

"Aha!" You pointed at her frowning face. "You aren't denying it!"

"Let's just get back to what's really important!" She quickly changed the subject grabbing the chalkboard off the floor as you snickered. "S-So you know what this entails?"

You decided to cut her a break and stop teasing her no matter how amusing it was. "Yes. I understand perfectly. But do you have anything else besides fish soup? It tastes bitter."

You were about to answer but a noise from up the hallway caused you both to whip to the door wide eyed. Quickly you snatched the chalkboard on the floor and shoved it under your knees to hide it, shoving Kanae's hand still holding the chalk as she flinched. Hiding it in one of her dress sleeves before the door slid open and you nearly fainted on sight. Right there. Standing in the doorway. Was A GIANT NAGA!! His human half looked about normal height as he stuck his head in. A mess of choppy black hair swaying messily from his head, and a mitch match of green-yellow slitted eyes narrowed on the inside. You couldn't see most of his body thanks to the black cloak hanging from him, the white scarf tied around his neck, and some kind of homemade mask slapped over half his face. 

His eyes narrowed more at the both of you before he pointed. "Why was this the only door closssed in the house?"

Good lord if his voice didn't send a fearful shiver down your back. You could see why Kanae was so careful around him. However she only turned to him with a polite smile. 

"Hello, Obanai. I was just giving Y/n her food." She gestured to the bread you were thankfully still holding. "We want her to feel comfortable with that wound on her shoulder you know."

"That still doesn't tell me why the door'sss closed?"

"What are you? A pervert?!" 

Kanae looked at you wide eyed and the snake snapped an annoyed look at you. "And what is that supposed to mean?!" He demanded.

You did your best to look very annoyed and pointed accusingly to him. "She has to check my bandages which I remind you are on my back! I'm supposed to just leave the door open so you can peek at me?!" His expression went shocked quickly- "WHAT KIND OF PERVERTED SNAKE ARE YOU?!"

"I-I'M NOT!! IT'S JUST-" He sputtered wide eyed but ducked as you harmlessly threw your bread at him. 

"GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I GET TENGEN ON YOU, YOU SLIMEY SERPENT!!"

THUNK!!

Obanai rammed face first into the doorframe in his way to try to get away. His eyes rolled a bit dizzy before he shook his head-

"GET OUT!!"

"M'sorrymsorry-" 

He jumped, quickly slithering away from the doorway and you both saw a massive black and white stripped tail before the rest disappeared from sight. There was a pause before Kanae sighed again and turned back to you. 

"Nice save."

"I just thought of the quickest excuse I could think of. Seemed like a good enough one."

She smiled wider at you. "Well try to eat  for now. I'll discuss more with you later when I get a chance to chat normally."

You nodded as she stood up to leave and turned back to your bowl of soup still on the floor. And sighed. Too bad you threw your bread, but food was food you guessed. Kanae smiled as she slowly walked out of the room and into the hallway. Obanai was no where to be seen so that means Y/n's scare tactic worked in driving him off at least. She settled on heading towards her room (or temporary room as she wouldn't be staying here for long) and starting on sewing those few extra pillows together for dummies come the night  

"Kanae!," a woman's voice called out followed by a series of rapidly approaching footsteps. She paused in her steps and turned around to the sight of Mitsuri speed walking towards her waving a hand. "Wait up!"

"What is it?"

She skidded to a stop in front of her and looked excited about something. "You're never going to believe this! Obanai gave me something really important!"

Her face dropped. "Mitsuri, you know that we can't accept anything or else-"

"I know, I know. But it's not for me. It's for you! TADA!!" Her hand was thrusted up and held out a familiar shape. "Obanai was gonna give it to you before he left but for some reason he was in a hurry or he asked me to give it to you instead!"

"Obanai got a gift? For me?"

 Why would the serpent do that? Was he trying to court her now because Mitsuri kept saying no? Or was he trying to butter up Mitsuri by getting gifts for her friends? Maybe he was hoping Kanae would help him out with Mitsuri if he flattered her enough?

Her pretty pink braids swayed as she shook her head. "It's not so much a gift as he was just returning something of yours." 

She again nudged what was in her hand at her. A familiar sight of a small clippy was in her hand, in the unmistakable shape of a green and pink butterfly. Pink eyes widened greatly looking between her and the clippy- Mitsuri held it further towards her and she slowly took it, hands shaking. It felt heavy yet light in her hands. The usual shiny outside dirty from sand and other dirt catching onto it, but it looked generally unharmed. 

"My clip." A bright smile broke into her face as she clutched it to her and beamed. "Our father gave us these, but I lost one when they-...H-How did he find this?"

"Oh it wasn't him." Mitsuri corrected not registering for the reaction she would soon receive next from her correction. "Sanemi found it actually!"

Her face. Dropped. And goodness being sapped away like a cloth slowly wiping up water from a spill. "..What?"

She nodded happily. "Yeah! He wanted Obanai to give you it since he can't move on land! Isn't that so sweet!" She gushed in light of the new emotion crawling over Kanae's face. "He went through all the trouble just to give it back to you. Isn't that-"

She blinked as a formed walked past her, slightly bumping into Mitsuri on her way down the hall and towards the still open front door. You had just stood up holding the bowl your soup had been in, and on your way to drop it off in the kitchen. Maybe there was more bread there or some fresh water to wash down the bitter taste of sardines away. Your feet had barely taken two steps-

"Is this some kind of sick joke to you?!"

You paused in your walking. Koyuki startled awake with a soft snort, blinking tired pink eyes and swaying messy black hair as she sat up. 

"No really?! Is this just some kind of sick reverse phycology where you think I'm going to fall for you!? Oh yes! I'm surely going to fall for you after you returned my clippy. Nevermind it's your fault I lost it in the first place!"

That sounded like Kanar. A much more angry version of Kanae.

"What's going on?," Koyuki asked as you passed by her to peer out the window to the beach.

Kanae was there. Her back was towards you so you couldn't see her face, but her hands were clenched and her arms gestured wildly. In the ocean in front of her was a few mermaids which included Kyojuro lounging in a shallow part of the water, and the Sanemi guy. All were looking shocked and wide eyed at the wildly gesturing woman as she continued her tirade.

"When are you going to get it through your head!? I DON'T LOVE YOU!! I don't even like you!!" Her hand pointed directly at the wide eyed shark mer. There was no mistaking who she was talking about. "No matter what you do! No matter what you try! I will NEVER love you! I DONT WANT YOU!! I WANT TO GO HOME!! AND DON'T YOU DARE SAY THIS IS MY HOME!! THIS IS NOT MY HOME!! THIS IS A PRISON EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU KEEP US TRAPPED BECAUSE  A L L OF YOU ARE TOO STUPID TO UNDERSTAND THAT WE DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU ALL!!"

You could only stare wide eyed and speechless at what you silently witnessed. If you had looked behind you, then you would've seen Koyuki sporting a similar reaction to what she was hearing.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! WHY CAN'T YOU ALL JUST LEAVE US ALONE ALREADY!?"

Her form turned and ran back towards the home to which you strained your neck to watch her from the window for as long as you could become you couldn't see her anymore. Koyuki jumped when a loud sound of a door slamming shut signaled her arrival back inside. Without thinking about it your feet jogged up to the door, at the same time rapid footsteps ran up the hall. 

"KANAE?!" 

If she heard your voice then she didn't react to you. Only continuing past you as you leaned out the doorway in time to catch a glimpse of her form disappearing up the stairs at the end of the hall. A loud slamming of a second door echoing  throughout the house. There was a pause as silence resumed..And then the distant soft sounds of loud crying filtered through the air and softly sprinkled down onto everyone's ears. 

Still reeling with shock, Mitsuri approached the stairs gingerly and quietly. Her footfalls barely making a sound as her guilty face stared upwards. "Kanae?" Her voice did not reach her ears making a heavy guilt weigh in her chest. "..Oh me and my big mouth. This is all my fault."

"Don't say that." She jumped turning to monotone f/c eyes as they also stared up in the direction of the loud sobs. "This isn't any of your faults. I know how she feels, and it can't be easy for anyone."

"Oh. What are we going to do?"

"...You go up there and see if you can calm her down." A head turned. F/c eyes narrowing at the door. "I'll just step outside and make sure everything is okay out there."

A gathering of mers outside in distress and argument did not notice the small figure step outside or open the door. Did not see her stomp up towards the shore's edge. Didn't see her scoop up a fist of wet sand in her hand and reel back her good shoulder. Until looked up-

SPLAT!! 

"Now that I got all of your attention- PAY ATTENTION OR ELSE!"

[icallhimjoey]

everyone is talking about Tupperware joe or ciabatta roll joe but what about lost-the-bet (won the bet?) joe? We still never got our epilogue where her dream came true and she could ogle at him in peace 😆

okay well shit, all this fuckery about rumours has resulted in this bullshit, are you happy now?!

Wordcount: 3K

—-

Blind Bargain

(read Double or Nothing here)

"You look... um, windswept?"

Izzy passed you a drink she'd been holding onto you for, and she was right. There was a rosy tinge to your cheeks, your hair a bit messy and you looked rushed.

Because you had been rushing.

"Oh, is my, is my mascara running?"

Izzy leant closer and squinted, "Yea, a little. Wait, here," and with a finger wet from her beer glass, she carefully wiped under one of your eyes. "It's not that windy though, is it? Did you run over here?" she gave you a suspicious look and you instinctively went for a sip of your drink to evade her question. To hide half your face.

"Hey, did Joe say he was coming?" one of your friends asked the group, and before anyone could answer, someone spotted him walking in.

Too soon, Joe.

That was too quick after you had walked in, God, what an idiot. You'd gone over this!

Calmly smoke the rest of your cigarette. Don't rush it. Make no one suspect anything had just happened mere minutes ago.

Everyone greeted Joe like normal and for a moment you were convinced it was just you who was making things weird.

"Hi,"

Why were you blushing?

"Hey,"

You knew why. Saw Joe's little smirk and, fuck, it made you want to squish his cheeks together to make his lips go funny.

You exchanged polite smiles instead, pretended to not have seen each other in at least a week, and cheersed drinks once Joe got given one by another friend.

When you turned back to Izzy, she was still sort of squinting at you.

"What?"

"Nothing," Izzy immediately raised her eyebrows but then kept looking at you. "Did you work from home today?"

Now it was your turn to squint at Izzy, suspicious as to why she wanted to know. "Yea, why?"

Fuck. What if she was onto you?

She might be closer to the truth than she thought, but you were not sharing your secrets. Not today.

You and Joe were sneaking around.

No one needed to know.

Just like during the bet, no one needed to know what was really going on behind closed doors. Difference being that now, the frightening parts weren't there anymore. You didn't like lying to Izzy, but, it was no longer scary, which was good.

Before, you were scared that if someone, specifically Izzy, were to find out about what Joe was doing to you on a daily basis, you'd lose him as a friend.

You weren't quite sure how one and one made two there, but that's exactly what you'd thought.

Now, if someone were to find out about what you and Joe were doing to each other on an almost daily basis, then they'd just know and it wouldn't really change much.

You just didn't want to be the one to tell anyone. Use words to explain anything. And neither did Joe. So, it remained a secret.

So far, you'd been resourceful in your ways.

Avoided Izzy like she was the plague.

She'd nearly caught you that one time she came home in the middle of the day whilst you and Joe were in the shower.

"Showering on company time?" she'd shouted from the hallway, and you'd stammered, "I worked through lunch time," as an excuse before whispering, "Did you leave your shoes by the door?" to Joe who was pressed into the corner of the shower with his shoulders hunched up, eyes wide and both hands covering his penis as he nodded.

"Shit."

"Shit."

Izzy hadn't seen the shoes.

Or, if she had, she hadn't mentioned them.

She had also once so very nearly caught sight of your text chain.

It was just a continuous thread of times followed by places. The bet had ended just over a month ago, but if someone was to go just by your texts, you knew you'd be able to convince them it was an ongoing thing still.

You'd been able to throw your phone into your lap face down just before Izzy had passed you a mug of tea. Just in time.

"Can people not just know?" Joe had asked once when you were in the middle of throwing every last item of clothing his way whilst he got dressed in a hurry. Izzy texted she was on her way and if you needed anything from the corner shop.

"Sure they can," you said, hitting him in the head with a sock. "Will you tell her?"

Joe scoffed, gave a soft frustrated, "No," and made a face as if he was making fun of his mum when she asked him a ridiculous question.

"Yea, didn't think so, hurry up," you rushed out of your bedroom to find Joe's shoes, held his coat so he could slide in and be quick out the door.

But there Joe had paused, right on the threshold.

"What if she..." Joe stalked closer and pushed himself right up against you. "Just walked up, right now, and happened to catch me do this?"

Fingers curled around your neck and were used to pull you in just enough for your lips to collide. Joe felt how just for a second or two, you turned boneless in his hands.

"Saw me touch you here?"

His other hand found the hem of your shirt to slip under, and you so very wanted to get lost in all of it again. You did.

But then you heard the lift go, and it startled you enough to squeeze a laugh out of Joe.

"Stairs!" you hissed, "Go, go! Stairs, now. Quick!" you shoved him towards the stairs, chuckling man easily moved by your hands. First step down, he leant back and, you obliged, gave a last quick kiss before he scurried down. You'd closed the front door to your flat just in time.

Yea.

It was definitely still a secret. One you wouldn't mind leaking, not at all. But you weren't the one who was going to say anything. And neither was Joe.

So at the pub, you pretended and tried your best to act the way you acted before any of this started. Before the bet had even become a thing.

Joe would still be flirty, but just a little flirty. Flirty like he had been flirty before.

Like when he'd see a random guy trying to make conversation when you went to get drinks, he would afterwards pretend you had an eyelash stuck under your eye and lean in real close to get it. Would make you make a wish as you blew nothing from his finger tip.

Tonight felt extra risky though.

You had worked from home. Izzy was right.

What Izzy didn't know is that Joe had spent half the day on your sofa, and he'd decided that, just before you were heading off to meet everyone at the pub, his eyes had had enough of just looking at you all day. His fingers were jealous. Mouth envious.

As a joke he'd nearly walked you into Izzy's room. You'd shrieked and laughed and oh my God, could he please never even try to joke about that again?

All right, Joe thought. Instead he'd fucked you right up against her door.

Risky business.

You didn't know if Izzy was going to come home first, but when you walked in and saw her in her full office attire, you secretly sighed a small breath of relief.

You fell into easy conversation that night. Avoided Joe until you couldn't after a dance of people getting drinks and going to the toilet, you ended up next to him at a table.

Joe didn't waste any time getting a hand on your thigh.

Your brain only stuttered for a second.

You were good at this. Kept up the conversation you had with the friend opposite, and Joe joined in the casual chat as his fingers squeezed and inched closer to where it was warm.

You squeezed your legs together in warning.

It did nothing.

Joe's hand stayed in place, fingers playing where they wanted to play.

Suddenly, someone who thought they were being real funny, asked about your luck on the apps. You hadn't taken a guy over to Friday night drinks at the pub for a bit now.

"I'm off the apps, actually," you shared. "So far it's been really unsuccessful, so I decided to just delete everything—"

"Don't lie," Izzy spat, interrupting you.

You felt Joe squeeze tighter before he removed his hand. Too many eyes on you now.

"I'm not lying!" you scoffed. "I'm not on the apps anymo—"

"I hear you sneaking guys in all the fucking time,"

Shit.

This got everyone's attention quick enough. Good thing Joe got both his hands above the table just in time.

"You sneaking guys in?" another smiley friend asked, bumping you with his shoulder. "You little minx!"

You were at loss of what to say, scoffing with your mouth open, you didn't know if you were better off denying everything, or coming up with another weird lie to save yourself from this situation.

"It's erm," you played with your drink a second, slowly spun it 'round on the table in front of you. "It's recent, this being off the apps thing,"

Izzy frowned.

"So you deleted them yesterday?"

So she'd heard you and Joe two days ago. Neat.

"Yep. Deleted them yesterday."

You didn't like how Izzy was pushing this, but you didn't really have another choice but to just go with it.

Izzy seemed annoyed and hostile and, you got it, sort of. You were best friends. No need to lie. You'd never lied about bringing guys over to the flat ever before.

Some of your other friends fell into a conversation about dating apps. About how none of them really work, how they barely know any people who've been on them and who are still in successful relationships. You leant back a little to listen along, had a slow sip of your drink and tried to ignore Izzy staring at you from across the table.

When you did look her way and made eye-contact, her features instantly softened and she leant closer over the table as she mouthed, "Why?"

You frowned, unsure of what she meant.

"What do you mean, why?" you mouthed back, and in a crossfire of conversation, Izzy pushed another friend out of his seat to sit directly opposite you.

"Why are you off the apps?"

Joe tuned in. Couldn't not. The two of you were right there next to him, blocking him from joining the conversation on the other side of the table.

You repeated what you'd said earlier. Added, "They're a bit shit really, aren't they?" to which you knew she'd agree.

And Izzy did agree.

But you also saw her worry lines work.

"I don't— we're on different pages," Izzy started, a little louder now as she sat back. "Different books even."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked, tried to make it sound like he wasn't incredibly invested in whatever this conversation was between you and your flat mate. Best friend. The one person who you'd been actively hiding from for over a month now.

"I know the difference between a fake orgasm and a real one," Izzy said, voice flat and loud enough for the whole table and then probably also the three closest to you to hear.

You choked on your drink before Izzy carried on. Coughed right into your glass and got beer all down your chin.

"These guys are—" Izzy shifted from talking to Joe to talking to you, "I don't know what they're doing to you, but they're good."

This got whoops - loud ones. Ones that made people across the pub turn their heads to see what the commotion was about.

"Okay!" you immediately tried to make everyone tone it down, one of your arms stretched over the table. "All right, I need some— some fresh air? A drink. I'm gonna get— does anyone else want to do a drink over a tenner? Gin tonic? Let me just—"

You stumbled through an excuse to escape everyone whilst simultaneously ignoring every question that was thrown at you by your friends.

"Guys? These are plural men?"

"Is that why you're off the apps? Found the right bloke who does it for you?"

"How often do you hear her, Izzy?"

"Give us a name!"

You awkwardly climbed from your seat and disappeared on your way to the bar.

Fuck.

You'd been so convinced Izzy didn't know, or hadn't heard. She never said anything.

She didn't know it was Joe though.

She'd said guys.

Thought you were bringing home guys from the apps to spend some spicy time with in your closed of bedroom. Snuck them in and snuck them out.

Sure.

Slut era.

You could pretend that this was the actual truth and go with it for however long you needed to.

"Hey,"

You thought maybe Izzy would follow you, but instead, Joe placed a hand on your shoulder as you waited for your turn at the bar.

"I um— I hear that someone is, um—" Joe couldn't help the smile he was sporting. "Being real nice to you."

You smiled through a scoff.

"Don't,"

"I'm not doing anything, I just..." you felt a warm hand spread its fingers over your bum. "It's not gone down, yet," Joe whispered right into your ear.

It made you lean back to scan his face a second as you frowned with confusion. His mouth made it back to your ear, "Here, it's been— I've been walking around with this since we left yours," below the bar, Joe's hand found yours and moved it over to his crotch.

"Jesus Christ, Joe," you hissed, panicked eyes darting around to see if anyone else had just witnessed that.

"I told her."

What?!

You couldn't fucking believe what you were hearing.

"You told Izzy about your semi?"

"Um, have a proper feel, this isn't a—"

"What can I get you?"

"A dirty bucket of gin, side of tonic," you huffed before Joe interjected, ordering three regular sized gin and tonics. One for you, one for Joe and presumably one for Izzy, for the traumatising.

"I told her it's me,"

You laughed. Bursted right into it, puffed out cheeks releasing air before it stuttered into giggles.

"No, you didn't— listen, I'm going to down my drink and leave, I'll text you when—"

His mouth found your ear again as he leant into you, spoke right into your ear again, voice low and husky, "I told her. Izzy knows now."

"What— what did you say?"

"I went," Joe started and made exaggerated facial expressions, raised eyebrows and big eyes. Then he smiled and pointed a finger at himself and nodded as his grin grew. "And then she went," Joe mimicked Izzy's reaction, surprise and frowned shock before adding, "And then she said she fucking knew it, that she'd known all along."

Oh.

Okay.

What now...

You didn't know what to do next.

Was Izzy mad?

You'd lied to her for ages.

Joe paid for the gin and you took a glass to immediately take large gulps of, stepping back just enough to catch sight of your table of friends.

They were all talking. Izzy included. Didn't seem bothered that you weren't there. Just a normal group of people talking about their week. All commotion from before gone, which, good. That was good.

You still didn't really want to go back over.

Then Izzy looked over and caught your eye. Your breath stopped for a second as you froze, afraid Izzy would let you see her anger and annoyance and frustration, because why had you lied for so long? Why had you not just told her?

But then, instead, Izzy smiled, pointed a finger at you with a scrunched up face and winked.

Izzy was a good friend.

"This is for Izzy," Joe pressed a second gin and tonic into your hands, already halfway through his own, just like you.

"Could you go— I don't, we have to— you know,"

You suppressed a smile.

"Ugh," you groaned with faux annoyance. "You're hard, we get it."

Before stepping away from him to bring Izzy your drink, Joe took hold of you by a bicep and pulled you close once more. "You say that like it isn't you fault."

It was weird and a little scary being out in the open, in public, with Joe like this, but you guessed that now, you could just... do that?

Wild.

You pulled back a little, smiled and raised your eyebrows at him.

"You say that like I'm not going to take care of it,"

You bumped your hip into him, and Joe had to close his eyes for a second. Bite down a groan and take deep breaths through flared nostrils for a second. You left him there as you quickly took Izzy's drink over to the table before turning around and beelining it back.

There was no way you were going to say anything. Invite comments or questions or even the odd facial expression.

You got them anyway.

"Bye,"

"Enjoy!"

"Have fun!"

"Hey, tell Joe to tuck it away already, we've been making jokes behind his back all night,"

"Bye babe,"

And with a laugh, you shook your head as you walked back over to Joe, both downed the rest of your drinks, drinks that Joe paid far too much for to down within a minute, interlaced fingers and left the pub together.

Joe got into a bet with you weeks ago, all for a week of fun he knew he was going to have with you, win or lose.

Had wanted to have with you, since, like, forever.

He'd never expected the outcome to be better than what he could've predicted.

He'd never even expected you to jump into this bet with him in the first place.

A sight-unseen transaction.

A true blind bargain.

One that panned out fucking perfect.

the end

---

The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

[snowfieldstories]

In Life and Death (Chapter -2)

Kim Dokja x Reader (original female character)

In Life and Death Masterlist

A/N: Hello and thank you for reading! This is mainly a reader-insert but I don't like using "y/n," so I've named her/you "Choi Yeona."

Tw: canon-typical violence and gore, some language, suicidal thoughts (brief)

Summary:

In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel within a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right ending to the one and only, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️

Episode I. Chapter -2: Beginnings

[As you wish, my dear. This will now be your story.]

“Choi Yeona.”

My hand shot up to my neck so fast that the passengers around me all flinched away—all except for one.

“Choi Yeona, are you alright?” said a woman with long brown hair beside me. The woman’s hand hovered over my arm, as if wanting to ease my mind.

We were in a subway car. Seoul, by the looks of it, though I couldn't remember if I was from there or not. Choi Yeona. I couldn't remember why that was my name. It didn't sound quite right, but my body had responded to it.

My hand dropped into my lap. The sensation of cold metal across my throat remained. And the shadow of a voice in my ears.

"Ah..."

"I'm good." I finally responded to the woman. "Just a little scare."

The woman laughed. "You were in such a deep sleep, I'm sorry to wake you. But our stop is next."

There was a blue lanyard around my neck. The ID on the front had a rather nice photo of me. I squinted. It was my face; of that, I was sure. Above the name 'Choi Yeona' was my title and the corporation. Minosoft. Something in the back of my mind itched at this name.

Behind the ID was a transit card. We left the subway and I trailed a few steps behind the woman. A few people spotted us, sporting the same blue lanyard. "Hey, new girl! And Yoo Sangah!"

My stomach dropped.

Yoo Sangah. That was a name I knew very well. My vision went white as memories poured in like a burst dam: late nights scrolling through chapters on my phone, pain in my heart at a certain pair of numbers, a thoughtfulness every time I rode the subway. And an odd (odd according to my friends, whose names and faces were just out of reach) preference for men wearing white coats.

A sick feeling crept up my throat. Sick dread? Anticipation? Elation?

This woman was a character from my favorite novel. So could that mean—?

A black Mercedes screeched to a stop nearby. "Yoo Sangah!"

Sangah's beautiful features pinched at once. "Mr. Han Myungoh."

"I told you I would give you a ride! I waited for you!" Han Myungoh pushed up his glasses with harsh fingers.

"And I said I didn't need them anymore," said Sangah icily.

"But I thought maybe today—"

"Because my bike was stolen?" I could tell Sangah was struggling to remain calm. "You have incredible foresight, Mr. Han Myungoh."

The man in question stuttered. Then, with a glance at the giggling coworkers around us, he huffed and drove off. My own smile slipped from my face.

"Yoo Sangah." The name was somehow both foreign and familiar in my mouth. "You said your bike was stolen?"

"Yeah. Terrible, isn't it?"

"Right," I swallowed. "Terrible."

I glanced at my phone as we approached the Minosoft building. 7:53. Today was the day Yoo Sangah's bike was stolen, it was the day she would take the train home, and, precisely at 19:00, the world would fall into ruin.

There were eleven hours until the apocalypse began. And I, Choi Yeona, would do my best to prepare.

I felt reassured to have knowledge of this world and its future. Especially in the wake of the hollowed out space where memories of my life should have been. So far, at least, bits of my previous life trickled back in. Mainly those that were attached to the novel I now lived.

My fiction had become reality and so I pulled together a loose plan. Three steps to prepare for a ruined world. As a fan, it's not like I hadn't daydreamed about this exact situation, anyways.

“Choi Yeona, are you sure you’re feeling well? You don’t look so good,” asked the angelic Sangah.

“Actually, no.” I pressed a hand to my temple. “My head is a bit fuzzy. I’m sorry, but you would mind helping me to my office?”

I felt bad preying on Sangah’s goodwill, but the first step was to find a quiet spot with internet so I could gain some information. And wandering to find my desk would take precious time. My feet dragged as we ventured deeper into the Minosoft building. I thought I played the part of a sick person well, or at least, Sangah didn't complain as she supported me with one hand on my arm and the other around my back. We stopped at a cubicle.

"Here you are," she said.

"Thank you, Yoo Sangah," I said with a sincere smile. It was nice to know that Sangah was just as wonderful as described. She lingered by the door. "I'll be fine once I sit down and get to work. Something to distract me."

"Ah, yes." Sangah seemed regretful. It seemed this Seoul was much like the one I knew of from my previous life. As a new employee, there was no chance I'd receive sick leave from the higher-ups, short of needing hospitalization.

This worked in my favor.

Sangah left for her own desk and I pulled out my phone. Swiping through the apps, I searched for social media. Nothing. "What kind of anti-social freak?" I muttered.

I tapped on contacts. There were two: Minosoft HR and Yoo Sangah.

There were no messages, no emails, no calls in the phone's history. Notes, photos, and even the damn alarm settings on the clock app were blank.

My back hit the cushioned chair, dumbfounded. Did Choi Yeona not exist?

Or was I really her? The idea of an unattached ghost of a person that was Choi Yeona should have concerned me, but in fact I felt a warmth spread through my chest. I liked the thought that I was still me in this world. Maybe our lives mixed or maybe I stole the being that was Choi Yeona, but one thing was for sure: my face was my own. I was free to be as much of myself as I wished without playing the part of a girl I didn't know.

I turned to my computer. Upon entering the password (0000, really?) I flipped through the email.

I, or Choi Yeona, had started at the company just over a month ago as a data analyst. Little human interaction, with most of my assignments and projects given via email. I also possessed a wealth of company knowledge at my disposal.

In no time, I had the Minosoft employee directory and a map of the building open on the desktop. I typed the hanja:

'Kim Dokja'

His profile pulled up and I paused at the company ID photo. Kim Dokja was handsome. Despite the unconfident slouch to his shoulders and unkempt hair that just brushed his eyes, he was much more gorgeous than I had been expecting. Average salaryman, my ass.

I checked his office number and corresponded with the Minosoft map. It was a few floors below mine. I grabbed my ID and phone, preparing to head down. Step two: find Kim Dokja.

There was a knock on the cubicle wall.

From the doorway, a man with black hair and a sweet smile on his lips popped his head in. He carried a steaming mug. "Choi Yeona, I heard you weren't feeling well?"

Oh.

Unlike with Sangah and Han Myungoh, I knew immediately who this was. The very same straight nose and grey eyes I had just been admiring. More than that, was the way my heart tugged forth, as though there were an invisible string tying us together and it had suddenly grown shorter.

Kim Dokja.

It seemed step two was unnecessary; Dokja had come to me himself.

At my non-response, he entered the cubicle and leaned against my desk, holding out the mug.

My fingers brushed his as I took the mug and sniffed. Green tea with honey.

"Kim Dokja," I said, testing out his name in awe. "Thank you."

A pleased expression settled on his face. "I know you don't drink coffee, and honey is supposed to soothe a sore throat."

My mouth dropped. "You know that?"

"I read online, the antioxidants in honey—"

"No." I shook my head. "You know I only drink tea?"

"It's all you drink when I see you." Dokja's words were soft, shy, as his lashes lowered. It was unfair how long they were. My chest stirred.

I took a sip of the tea. "It's delicious."

There were a hundred questions running through my mind that I wanted to ask this man, this character, that I had loved for so long now. Most of all, I was curious about our relationship in this world. Kim Dokja and Choi Yeona.

His gaze lifted and landed first on my computer.

Horrified, I realized his employee profile was still open on my desktop.

I spammed open a bunch of webpages before shutting the screen off. Dokja looked at me, speechless.

"Sensitive information," I finally choked out. I hoped the heat of my neck wasn't visible on my skin.

"...Right." His eyes were on me, as if calculating something. He drew near and placed a hand on my forehead. "You're very warm."

My skin burned hotter after that. What was this? I shook off my stupor and pointed a finger his way. My mouth moved before my brain could stop it. "Kim Dokja. Are you my boyfriend or something?"

Dokja jolted back and his face grew pale. The confidence that had possessed his body drained out quickly.

"No—no, sorry I didn't mean to—" he said, a weak laugh leaving his lips. "I'll let you get back to work."

And then he was gone.

Now I was especially confused. Kim Dokja had looked almost afraid of me.

Perhaps I had been too direct.

I sipped on the tea while thinking.

If I was being fully honest with myself, I was quite jealous of past-me. There was a whole month of Dokja-interactions that he seemed to have knowledge of. But, I remind myself, you could have a lifetime with him ahead of you if you can get through this alive. A small consolation, but it would have to do. And who knows, maybe memories of that month would resurface as time went on.

Time for step three.

I opened my phone and my thumb hovered over the 'books' app. If my hunch was correct, and whatever force that brought me here was benevolent, then there should be one book on the shelf. And if I was unlucky, then I would have to start writing. I pressed down.

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint by S■n■■■o■■

I cried out in relief. The title was overlaid on a solid red background, rather than the original cover art, but I was just grateful I wouldn't have to write down as much of the story as I could from memory.

My memory was not exactly reliable at present.

I had a lot of pages ahead of me, so I curled up in my seat and began to read, drinking Dokja's tea.

_______________________________

The end of the workday arrived all too soon.

Now, I stood outside Minosoft's doors waiting for Sangah or Dokja to leave.

I tugged on my collar, the athletic-wear under my work suit uncomfortably warm. Thankfully, a small shopping center neighbored Minosoft—close enough to visit during my lunch break. Work supplies had been replaced with survival essentials in my backpack, and I checked to make sure the bags of worms and insects were safely stored in each side pouch. It was a good thing Choi Yeona's credit cards worked.

My hand dug into the bag of lemon candies. They were supposed to be a peace offering for a certain plagiarist later, but one taste couldn't hurt. Sweetness burst on my tongue.

The sun dipped lower and my feet tapped on the sidewalk. I grabbed the shoulder of a young woman leaving the company. "Have you seen Yoo Sangah?"

The woman looked perplexed. Another lady stepped up beside her.

"Yoo Sangah left with Mr. Han Myungoh. I heard he convinced her to let him give her a ride home," said the lady with a sneer. "More like coerced her. Poor girl couldn't say 'no.'"

I think I mumbled out a 'thanks,' but I was shaken. Sangah took the subway home today. She was supposed to ride in the same carriage as Dokja.

An unsettling feeling rolled in the pit of my stomach. I glanced between the glass Minosoft doors and the time on my phone.

The time was uncomfortably close to 19:00.

Maybe Dokja had gone out ahead. After all, the few times we'd crossed paths since that morning, he had given me an awkward half-smile and kept his distance.

I took off for the subway entrance. It was a vague memory from this morning, but I remembered the subway line well enough to get on the right track going opposite. I searched left and right of those lining up to enter the carriage, but I couldn't spot Dokja.

The train arrived.

Already, the adrenaline was sending spasms to my muscles. I picked a spot in the center so I could move to the opposite side of the dokkaebi that would arrive soon.

18:55

This was train carriage 3607. Two over from Dokja, and directly next to Yoo Joonghyuk. The disappointment sunk in my chest.

18:58

There was no time to switch carriages. And at this stage in the regressions, moving to Joonhyuk's was asking for death.

18:59

I gripped the knife in my pocket.

19:00

The lights flickered and the train shuddered to a stop. "Attention passengers! E—everyone, run away—!"

When the dokkaebi arrived, I slipped to the back as a crowd of people surged forward in indignation.

Everything was playing out just as it had in the book.

_______________________________

[You have earned 8,600 coins!]

This was not like the book. No book could capture this.

My fingers were caked in bug guts and gore. Warm blood soaked the front of my suit. I hunched down, trying to stop the tremors in my body. There was a whimpering. But when I held my breath, the train car became silent.

[Well done, it seems we have a winner.]

The dokkaebi, Bihyung, popped into the air above me. The train shuddered and began to move once more. I paid no mind to the sea monsters outside the window.

[A lone victor. You're quite the vicious thing, aren't you? Had some little creatures to complete the scenario and yet, you still killed other humans!]

He spoke like I was a subordinate deserving of praise for going above and beyond at work. I fought to keep the sick down my throat.

"My rewards," I murmured.

[Sorry?]

I stood slowly with shallow breaths. "My rewards. My sponsor."

[How do you know about...uh, well, yes, let's move on to the sponsor selection!]

A list of constellations rolled out in front of me. Before I could get a good look, the blue screen glitched and then vanished.

I looked up at Bihyung in confusion.

[I'm deeply sorry my dear constellations, but it seems this incarnation is off the market! One lucky sponsor has claimed her already. But! If you look to the next few carriages here...]

I tuned out the rest of Bihyung's brown-nosing. I had a sponsor?

"Open attributes."

[Choi Yeona, Age: 27.]

Okay, that was normal. Well, actually, the age I wasn't sure about. But that didn't matter now. Aside from these two things, every section was noticeably censored besides one.

[Constellation Sponsor: Mother of Divine Desire]

"...What?"

My mind reeled. I had never once come across such a modifier. I would have to consult the novel later. For now, at least—

Bihyung had vanished. I wiped my hands as best I could, then shed the business suit to reveal a thin athletic zip up. I swapped the skirt for the light cargo pants from my pack.

I slowly invested coins into strength until the subway door gave way.

I breathed in deeply. Though the end of the tunnel was damp, it was a sweet freshness compared to the thick scent of corpses behind me.

Up ahead, the silhouettes of three people could be seen. My blood chilled.

I stepped closer. Joonghyuk, certainly, stood tall above the rest. Next to him was a built man that could only be Lee Hyunsung. And between them was a spiky-haired high schooler.

"Dokja." His name came out hoarse from my throat.

The trio must have heard me approach and glanced back, but made no move to come closer. I backed away.

I found the carriage Hyunsung and Namwoon had come from. The door had been wrenched away.

My breaths were frantic now as I searched the bodies. The body of a small boy clutched a plastic box. The grasshoppers still leapt from its walls.

Nausea was rising too quickly. I forced myself to turn away.

Kim Dokja was nowhere to be found.

I poured more coins into strength and practically tore off the door to the next train car. I scanned the bodies. Nothing.

The next yielded the same result.

It was the third carriage down that I found a head-blown body with a blue tie.

My knees crumpled and the moment I found the ID with his name, I vomited. Blood and sick and stomach acid soaked my pants but I couldn't see through the blur of tears.

"You can't die. Kim Dokja cannot die," I said with a ragged voice. "Dokja you can't—I can't DO THIS—!"

My shouting devolved into dry heaving.

There was a ping sound.

[ < Sub Scenario — Escape > ]

Scenarios on scenarios. The world had just begun and already my second life's mission had failed.

I inhaled harshly and pushed myself out of the train.

The bridge was broken and Hyunsung and Namwoon had made it across. Joonghyuk was drawing his sword when I walked past in a daze. I think he spoke to me. I don't really know. My mind had numbed to sound.

On the edge of the broken bridge, I looked down at the sea monsters. Maybe if I fall slowly, it would be a quick death. Maybe, if luck would find me this time, I could return and try again. Or maybe I would have a final rest.

I tipped forward.

A hand gripped my waist and yanked me back. All at once, sound came back into sharp focus.

"Not yet. How did you survive?"

Yoo Joonghyuk. He was a regressor through and through; I couldn't even die when I wished. A bubble of hysteria broke from my chest. It tasted like bile.

"Tell me," said Joonghyuk sharply.

"You can't threaten me with death. Clearly it's what I want."

The tensed expression on his face told me I was right. He looked me over properly now, taking in the red, swollen eyes and mess all over my clothes.

"I don't understand how—"

"Yoo Joonghyuk." He startled when I spoke his name. "I've already failed. Please, I don't want to live with that failure."

I seemed to only be making the regressor more conflicted. He opened his mouth.

"Yoo Joonghyuk!"

He and I both slowly turned to the third voice.

A woman with short, black hair and a mole under her eye approached us. Even with my muddled mind, I could recognize the one person that could possibly be.

"Han Sooyoung?"

Joonghyuk turned back to me, bewildered. Sooyoung grunted. "Are you a fan, or something?"

My mind was becoming clearer and the life was returning to my body.

The first, and largest, mistake I had made after arriving in this world. I had assumed it was the false third turn, the 1864th regression.

But Hyunsung and Namwoon were with Joonghyuk. And there was no Sangah. There was no Gilyoung. And there was no Kim Dokja.

Han Sooyoung flinched as I thrust the opened bag of lemon candies at her. I smiled. A real, wide grin. I think maybe tears wet my cheeks once more, but this time, tears of relief. "I'll buy you all the lemon candies I can. I'll buy out the Dokkaebi Bag," I said to her, and I meant it.

Because Han Sooyoung coming here was proof that this was not the 1864th turn at the start of Omniscient Reader.

It was the altered 1863rd regression.

Kim Dokja would come here later. And so I must survive. To see him again, and to change his ending.

_________________________________

Unfortunately, the one that gifted me with a second life in my favorite novel was not so benevolent that Kim Dokja was dropped straight in my lap. Figuratively and literally.

I was going to have to work for that future.

Right now I scrubbed myself clean in the river. My clothes stuck uncomfortably to my skin in the chilly water, but I refused to take them off for washing.

That would be due to the pair of dark eyes watching my every move from the shore.

"I'm not going to run away," I muttered.

Yoo Joonghyuk gave me a hard look. He didn't even bother to use lie detection on that one.

I finished and reached for my backpack, when a hand swiped it first.

"Nuh-uh, you get this back after you answer a few questions," said Han Sooyoung.

My nose scrunched. "I gave you lemon candy."

"I'm not some pet!"

The bag was yanked from her arms. "Both of you, start talking now before I kill you," said an irritated Joonghyuk.

[Incarnation 'Yoo Joonghyuk' has activated 'Lie Detection' Lv. - - !]

He looked first to Han Sooyoung, who blew her bangs out of her face with a huff.

"I can guide this timeline to its successful end. I have knowledge of the scenarios," she said.

"How?"

"I wrote a novel similar to this world. SSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor." Her eyes slid to me, like I was supposed to be impressed. "I have a predictive skill, sort of like prophecy. Something from being an author."

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Han Sooyoung's' words as truth.]

Joonghyuk seemed to consider her words, but his suspicion remained.

"I don't trust prophets."

"I said like prophecy. It lets me write the best possible path to success," Sooyoung said rather impatiently.

"Then can you kill me?" Joonghyuk's gaze burned into Sooyoung. His knuckles were white on the backpack. "After the end is reached. Can you make my death permanent?"

Sooyoung gave him a small smile. "I believe so."

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Han Sooyoung's' words as truth.]

That satisfied Joonghyuk, because he turned to me next. "Who are you?"

"I'm Choi Yeona."

These two both have 'Lie Detection' so I must choose my words carefully.

"I have knowledge of this world through a past life. I'm not a fan—" I looked first to Sooyoung, then quickly to Joonghyuk "—and I'm not a regressor. I...read a similar book, and now I'm here. I don't know how."

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Choi Yeona's' words as truth.]

It was fortunate my memories were still in patches, because they couldn't accuse me of lying when I didn't know the truth myself.

"The future I know is not guaranteed and it's for a different worldline, anyways. Your next regression: the 1864th turn." I can see the hopelessness creep back into Joonghyuk's eyes, so I continued. "And it can be your last."

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Choi Yeona's' words as truth.]

"For that to happen, you need to believe in us. In Han Sooyoung's plan. You must see this turn all the way through, or else there is no hope for the next. Yoo Joonghyuk, you must believe that we can bring you to the end," I said.

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Choi Yeona's' words as truth.]

Joonghyuk was quiet for a time.

At last, he said, "But you will find a way to kill me?"

I fought the urge to comfort this broken man. Yes, I loved Kim Dokja, but that didn't mean I cared for Yoo Joonghyuk any less.

"Yes," I whispered.

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Choi Yeona's' words as truth.]

My bag was retuned to me. Joonghyuk nodded, then stalked off for Oksu station. Honestly, I was surprised he didn't put up more of a fight. He really is a shell of a person at this point in the regressions, I realized with a pang.

"Actually, I just have one question."

Sooyoung's hand gripped my arm. "How did you get past 'Lie Detection?'"

"Excuse me?" She somehow realized my words weren't the complete story.

"Yoo Joonghyuk," she said fiercely. "If he sees this world-turn to its end, then why would he ever need to regress to the next?"

Ah. "There is a certain event that must take place near the end of this turn. He reaches the end, in a way, but he still must die here."

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Choi Yeona's' words as truth.]

What a mistrustful woman.

My words definitely confused her more. I looked her square in the eyes. "Sooyoung, I'm afraid if I tell you anything more exact, the future will change for the worse. This story needs to progress as it should without my interference." In this turn, anyways. I thought about what was to come in the 1863rd turn, and my expression grew sharp. "I know what you plan to do to Joonghyuk."

"You—!"

"And I won't interfere." I forcefully removed her hand, and I could see her shock of my strength overtook the pain caused by my fingers. "I despise you for the suffering you will cause him, but I won't change things. He must go through this for our final, successful, true ending. Use. 'Lie Detector.' On. Me."

['Lie Detection' has confirmed 'Choi Yeona's' words as truth.]

Sooyoung staggered back.

I made to leave but she made a noise in her throat. "One more thing. If you're from the next turn, and you won't interfere, why are you seeing this one through to the end?"

I looked down at her white coat. My chest ached.

"I'm not from the next turn," I said quietly. "And there's someone I have to meet here before I can move on to the next."

In fact, there was another, more pressing issue that kept me in the 1863rd turn. I was not a regressor.

At least to my knowledge. My attributes were annoyingly blocked from view. Despite being given a second life here, I couldn't assume that regression was a stigma I possessed. My best shot might be to strike a covenant with an Outer God: possibly, Secretive Plotter if I could meet with him. Or I could track down other regressors and learn how they gained the stigma.

Then I would have to tackle how to follow Yoo Joonghyuk into his regression versus of my own. My head throbbed just thinking of it all.

Sooyoung and I reached Oksu station, and Hyunsung greeted us warmly while Namwoon grunted. Joonghyuk sat hunched against the wall close by. A breeze from the unlit subway tunnel chilled the damp clothing to my frame. I shivered.

Joonghyuk, without looking up, said, "I'm not giving you my coat."

"I didn't expect you to," I fired back. Sunfish bastard, indeed.

I started for the others to introduce myself, when the wind blew a thin, small blanket that caught on my leg. A blue message popped up when I grabbed it.

[You have gained +5 luck! Account balance: 5/500]

This was....? Another messaged flashed.

[The constellation 'Mother of Divine Desire' smiles at you.]

Next part ->

A/N: DON'T HURT ME PLS I swear we will be with our beloved Kim Dokja very soon! Well, soon for us. Maybe not so soon for poor Yeona/you. These parts -2 and -1 (a sort of prologue, if you will) are necessary to set the stage for the main part of the story.

[little-luna-llama]

When are we ever ready?

Custard (at least in my mind) is such a pitch perfect mix of pure vanilla and shadow milk, and a parallel to both of them.

It's analysis timeeee

Contains: my analysis of canon custard iii, a quick parallel between him and Dark Choco cookie, A quick analysis of what I think made shadow milk turn into a beast and why and finally the actual parallel between custard, Shadow and Vanilla. (Being ready to handle something)

Custard is a kind vanillian cookie kid with a persona that's basically his entire personality(being king). He speaks in a way that could be read as bratty, but comes off as performative and a little silly goofy.

He's trying to step into shoes that are wayyy to big for him right now that comes with decisions he's not ready to make or knowledge he's not ready to know. His fortune cookie says "Watch, listen, play! Your memories will shine brighter than a royal crown."

It's literally saying stop trying to grow up and enjoy the now. Because let's be real: growing up sucks when it actually happens. Custard is yet to realise that because he's a kid still looking at adulthood through rose coloured glasses like any kid would.

In a sense this also makes him a parallel to dark choco cookie, who from what we've seen had a very hopeful and positive outlook when he was younger, trying to do what is best for the kingdom but seeming to lack understanding in some of the details, which deepens the rift with his father and fuels his need to prove himself. Which as we know didn't end well...

Custard I don't think is in it to prove himself as a leader. If you've read the bluebell fics I've actually stated that I see the kingly persona as a sort of trauma response. He misses his dad and we don't know what happened to him, and most likely custard doesn't know either. Custard is very young, arguably the youngest of the cast behind snapdragon who's a literal baby, I say about 7/8 years old and loosing your parents at that age definitely doesn't help you develop healthy states of mind or coping mechanisms because there's no supervision.

Custard knows he's of noble vanillian lineage, he heard stories of pure vanilla, this beloved King who was loved by all that grandpa was close to, he was powerful and navigated life's struggles with such ease and gentleness. A kid hears that and thinks "wow he had a lot of friends because he was King! If I'm King then everyone will want to be my friend and I won't be lonely anymore! And I can make the rules!" It's a very young mindset. It also puts him above the others so if they leave him, he can get the last word in and they aren't leaving him, he's banished them. He's in charge, he doesn't want to be friends with them and they should feel sorry about it.

I don't think it's intentionally toxic or anything, it's just the mind of a kid rationalising something to protect themselves from the trauma they've experienced. It's really common for childhood trauma to manifest a coping mechanism like this; finding a source of inspiration and power to project onto, to call on for emotional support. In certain cases it with even go as far as to manifest as d.i.d, but that's not relevant to custard. This also happens in adults as well.

This links to Shadow milk however: shadow has one of the starkest transformations in theme from ancient to beast from what we've seen. Eternal hardly changed, mystic seems to have simply hidden themselves behind a veil, burning spice hardly changed, and it seems silent salt simply put on their helmet.

Shadow milk however was clearly a scholar/Wizard archetype. Fits with his virtue being knowledge, much like how eternal hardly changing fits with their sloth, burning spices silhouette getting bigger fits with the overwhelming power of destruction, mystic hiding themselves away behind their veil to appear unfeeling/apathetic and like a god to their followers (its a literal separation) and silent hiding their face entirely so not even their expressions could communicate their feelings.

So why is did shadow go from a prim and proper scholar to a jester? I think it's all to do with knowledge.

All the beasts had to experience some great trauma, that one moment that solidified their descent into darkness(I have theories for all of them.) Something that, to them, justifies their actions (or lack thereof). Shadow Milks power is that of knowledge, and knowledge doesn't discriminate between the good and evil. Shadow would most likely be hyper aware of everything, to the point of near omniscience before creating dark moon magic. He would see the world and his friends suffering and want to stop it all, and he finds a way:

Using mind magic and trickery. It starts innocent but it builds and builds and it becomes addictive, then it becomes second nature.

Innocently making someone forget the horrors they've experienced, or filling someone's mind with fake positive memories to turn them away from committing atrocities. Perhaps he does it to his friends: maybe he sees them falling and every time he fills their heads with sweet lies to buy them a few more months.

He's overloaded by taking on everyone's troubles while he was still coming to grips with his power, he has no one to turn to because of his spiderweb of lies. He's alone and he doesn't know how to cope. Just like custard

And just like custard he adopts a front: instead of feeling remorse or trying to reverse what he's done and accept that he made a mistake he just leans into it harder, forging a new identity to pick up the pieces and figure something out, unchained by the lies of his past because he is the director the playwright, the producer, he gets to make the decisions and nobody can question him.

(Obviously the first thing he would do would be to lift the lies from his friends and have them fall too.)

Vanilla also sort of does this with healer cookie, but he has amnesia at that point in the story. Healer cookie is more like the truest reflection of pure vanilla cookie, unburdened by the horrors of his life. I bet shadow milk watched healer cookie and seethed inside. For Custard though, I think it was something he had to see even if it hasn't paid off yet. He got to know pure vanilla completely outside of his idealised version without bias because he didn't know.

In the crumbs of content we do have both from in game and twitter we have seen Custards attitude change a little. He's mellowed out a little in the dark cacao episodes and by the time stories by the campfire rolls around he's much more an excited child who happens to like his prince costume and playing prince than a 7 year omd trying to actually be in a position of power with no help or guidance.

Since pure vanilla and shadow are supposed to be opposites I think custard is actually supposed to help convey what makes them the same and what makes them different. They share the acting performative parts of their character with shadow milk, but with vani we see custard genuinely trying to impress him because he wants to be like the vanilla he heard about in his bedtime stories. However custard currently runs the risk of stumbling into something that he's not ready for, which is something I think vani and shadow share. Vanilla wasn't ready to receive the light of truth and its responsibility, and shadow wasn't really ready to weild all of that knowledge alone.

This is also partly why I made the bluebell au. Shadow definitely smelt a kindred spirit but also "hey the kids connected to vani this will make good angst." And also In the fic I have custard adopting a few variations of his prince persona partly to make more people like him.

[genericpuff]

I'm not sure if you've answered this question before but what were some of the things that made you interested in Lore Olympus in the past and at what point did you lose interest?

I adored the art in the beginning, and just like, the really warm-feeling romance that just had me feeling so giddy reading it. There were some red flags in the beginning like the age gap, but I kinda fell for the same mindset of "well they're gods so what does it matter" (obviously I can't in good faith use that argument anymore because if the age gap didn't matter then it either wouldn't exist or wouldn't be brought up in the first place lmao but it took me a while to realize that).

Now, to be fair, LO was also one of my first introductions to webtoons as a format, prior to that I had read mostly manga and left-to-right indie webcomics (i.e. comics that were hosted on their own site) and I was still in the early years of my own development as a writer and artist (I still feel like I'm early in that development tbh) so of course there were undoubtedly a lot of obvious flaws that went over my head (and I was younger and inexperienced so I wasn't as critical of what media I was watching / reading as I am now) but that's been half the fun of catching them now - it's given me a lot more perspective and helped me hone my own skills in my writing by analyzing what's wrong with LO and brainstorming on how those problems can be avoided.

But then there was the Act of Wrath plotline and I was completely sold on it being gold. Anyone who's read my original work knows how much of a SUCKER I am for "dark alter ego" plotlines, I eat that shit up like junk food. But what I like about the dark alter ego tropes is when they're used to explore the subconscious, question one's morals and true identity, etc. That was what I was hoping for and expecting with the AoW plotline in LO - that her "dark self" was gonna be a reflection of how she felt "held back" by her circumstances in the Mortal Realm, and her wrath being something she could use for retribution (in a "do no harm but take no shit" kinda way). Especially with how naive and innocent she was in the beginning, I loved the idea of her slowly coming to terms with her "darker" side and learning not to suppress her emotions until they had nowhere else to go and exploded (which was how I interpreted the AoW).

So when it didn't do that, or even explore an ounce of nuance regarding her relationship with her wrath, I was very disappointed to say the least. When Eris was revealed to be the one who "blessed" her with wrath, that was when the rose colored glasses started to fall off and I realized "wait, does Rachel not have an actual plan for this whole Kore vs. Persephone thing???" And now her wrath is literally just there to... give her the power to bully people?? It just feels so disheartening to see such potential squandered.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not gonna chastise a story if it doesn't go exactly where I want it to go, there would be no fun in that anyways (and that's what fanfiction is for lmao). But when a story is leaving very interesting but connectable breadcrumbs that are VERY clearly leading you somewhere and then just... doesn't, that's when it's disappointing and unsatisfying. LO feels like a "creator vs. the reader" story in the worst way possible, where it's constantly leaving breadcrumbs, getting pissed when the audience "figures it out", so then it overcorrects and tries to "subvert" itself to keep the readers "on their toes"... but the problem is that all it really does is punish the readers for paying attention and investing themselves in the story by giving them a worse story. It's like Rachel's getting mad at people for figuring out a story that she's writing and hinting towards.

And this has been going on for YEARS now, it's like a Shepard tone where it sounds like it keeps getting higher and higher in pitch but then doesn't actually resolve so your brain is just scrambling trying to figure out what in the world it could be "building up to".

There's nothing. It's not building up to anything. It's just constantly putting down new plot threads that are slightly altered versions of previous plot threads and expecting you to keep following along while it makes a mess of itself. It feels like you're going somewhere but you're actually still just running in place. It's just Rachel never learning how to progress past the middle school writing level of "and then this happened and then this happened and then this happened". Not only is it disorganized writing, but it's just... it's so boring. Nothing's exciting or interesting anymore when it keeps distracting itself with shiny new plotlines and characters that never get resolved.

It's like when you were a kid and thought "man , when I grow up, I'm gonna eat nothing but chocolate cake and ice cream every day forever!" and then you get older and you realize you were being silly because eating nothing but chocolate cake and ice cream every day 1.) isn't good for you and doesn't feel good, and 2.) the appeal and novelty of it wears off if you can have it any time you want, it doesn't feel as special anymore as it did when you were a kid and having those things was a treat.

To compare this back to LO, none of its "reveals" feel like treats anymore, they feel like just another half-assed attempt to keep people interested. It's clickbait.

And don't get me wrong, you CAN totally subvert the breadcrumbs you put down for your audience and go in a completely different direction than where the audience was expecting, but it takes a shitload of skill and thought to do it well. Attack on Titan is one of the best recent examples of a story appearing to completely throw out its original script halfway through, only for that script to actually still be relevant in a very complex and thought out way. Especially when there ARE hints towards the big "twist" that make you go back and rewatch it and realize "WAIT, THEY'VE BEEN GIVING US THE ANSWERS ALL THIS TIME?!?!"

(it would be TWO MORE FUCKING SEASONS before this ending would make sense, that's fucking GENIUS foreshadowing and in the CREDITS SEQUENCE LIKE ?? IT'S SO BLINK AND YOU'LL MISS IT HOLY SHIT-)

Evidently Rachel does not have that skill and is not willing to put in that thought; maybe she could some day, but I don't think she's learning it on the job as well as she thinks she is.

And it's disappointing as fuck because it could have been so much better than this. Rachel is literally the only one getting in her own way of LO being something truly great.

[mabelstone]

Boy Next Door

matt stone x fem reader

i'm back. mabel finish a fic before starting a new one challenge i don't want to write Y/N anymore so for now i will use [name] as a filler LOL is that even worse? this was one of the first ideas i ever had and i'm sure its widely overused on here but i really loved writing this. will probably turn it into a series lol we'll see but at least one or two more parts to come xx

*

The removal of the sold sign and the influx of moving vans this past week was a dead give away that I now had a new neighbour. I seriously prayed for someone cool to move in, as I have an almost certain suspicion that the previous owners were drug dealers. I hadn't actually seen them yet and I wasn't planning on going over and introducing myself as my neighbourhood was notorious for keeping to itself. Unless you count that awkward wave you give to the person across the street when you're taking out your bins at the same time. It was a quiet place, all the more reason to love it. We were all living in synchronous harmony in our quiet, private little bubbles.

I had a routine of hitting the hay around 9:30pm, 10pm on a bad night, which in itself was a luxury. Tonight, I'd already set myself up. Fed the dog, fed myself, showered, watched a bit of telly, then got cosy in bed around 9pm. I turned off my TV, and that's when I noticed the repetitious bumping of heavy bass brought to life by the speakers next door. It's okay, I told myself, closing my eyes and trying block out the sound best I could. Is it getting louder? I suspected I may be paranoid or hyper focused on the sound because I have work at 6am. I ended up dozing off, thankfully.

Then the next thing I knew, I was being awoken by a loud smash of glass, and an even louder, "aw, come on, man! You're paying for that!"

I couldn't have been imagining it, because now instead of a steady thump of bass, I could now hear loud and clear the lyrics to MAAD City by Kendrick Lamar as if he were performing a live concert in my bedroom. I rolled over to check my phone. 11:45pm. That's it.

I - a bit dramatically, I must admit - threw my blankets off and threw on my dressing gown, storming out my front door in my stupid bunny head slippers. Despite the great choice of music, I was absolutely furious, the bass bumping so hard as I approached the door, I could feel it in my chest. I knocked on the door so hard my knuckles stung. No answer. I waited a moment, then proceeded to bash on the door with all my might. A few moments later, my hands on my hips and a scowl on my face that screamed, 'I don't care if you think I'm lame, you've royally pissed me off,' the door opened.

A man with kind of short, kind of long, curly brown hair stood before me with ugly oval rimmed glasses, an aquiline nose, and a bottle of beer in his hand. "...hello?" The look on his face almost read, do I know you?

"Hello. I live next door," I huffed, arms now tightly crossed over my chest. Don't get angry, compose yourself. "It's almost midnight on a Sunday. Could you please... tone it down a bit?"

“Oh absolutely, sorry, miss…?”

“[Name]”

"Well, nice to meet you," he reached his hand out to shake mine, which I begrudgingly accepted, a little gap in his teeth on display. "I'll turn it down right now." He pulled out his phone and showed me him pressing the volume down button repeatedly, the music complying.

"Thank you." I wasn't interested in chatting, instead I stormed back into my house with an emphatic sigh, slamming the door behind me. I shucked off my gown and climbed back into bed, grateful that now I'd hopefully get an okay sleep.

Nope.

Less than ten minutes later, the music is cranked back up and now theres a ball repeatedly hitting my fence. "For God's sake," I yelled to nobody, charging for the neighbours house barefooted.

I was so angry at this point, I didn't even care that I was in skimpy little Victoria's Secret pyjamas I'd owned since high school.

As I shamelessly bashed on his door, I tried to block out the little voice in my head that pleaded, just let it go, and, your actions have consequences. Absolutely livid, I waited, and waited. My fist inches away from punching a hole through the door, it opened once more.

The same curly headed man from earlier, this time more noticeably inebriated. Or high. Please, for the love of God, just be an occasional user and not a dealer. “Well, what a pleasant surprise! Decided to come party?”

“No, I did not come to party!” I snapped, my anger seemingly unleashing itself in the form of a foot stomp, similarly to how a spoilt 5 year old would. “I want you to have some respect and turn this shit down! Or better yet, off!”

One of his friends appeared in the doorway, eyes half lidded and probably the same shade of red as my face currently. "That's not party attire," he snorted, being pulled away by someone in a... Spiderman costume? What kind of party is this?

I sighed deeply, pinching the upper bridge of my nose with eyes screwed shut as tightly as my fist. I was on the verge of tears, and I think he noticed by the way he quickly dropped his act.

“Okay, okay. I'm turning it off right now.” He must've realised how much of an inconsiderate dick he was being. He reached into his pocket and turned off the music, sighing down at me. I heard a few short lived groans from the other side of the door. An annoyed, “duuuude that was my song,” before the drunken chatter quickly resumed.

“Thanks,” I muttered, yawning into my hand (for dramatic effect, of course).

“Matt, bring the lady in,” one guy slurred against the door frame as if I wasn't even there. “Wanna play basketball with her,” he professed, before stumbling back into the house.

“Oh, yeah, if that ball hits my fence one more time I'll tear it down and beat you with the wood.” I walked away after this, feeling quite proud of myself, actually. We should normalise occasional temper tantrums in adults.

Thankfully, the music remained off as I got back in bed, almost immediately drifting off.

BANG. Then that fucking ball hit my fence again, followed by followed by my new neighbour scolding someone indistinguishably. Then, in a slightly louder voice intended for my ears, “sorry, [name].”

Due to my disrupted sleep last night, I nearly slept in. I confess, I am a bit of a princess with my sleep. I spent my morning racing around like a headless chicken, spilling coffee all over my white blouse, having to change, which pushed me back another minute. I rushed out to my car, only to find, to my demise, I've been blocked in. Some random vehicle, probably belonging to one of the degenerates next door, hanging 3/4 over my driveway.

Almost with a feeling synonymous with deja-vu, I flounced to the neighbours', determined to fuck his shit up, to put it plainly. I pounded on the door impatiently with both fists, tapping my foot while I waited. A random man clad in a t-shirt depicting a stick figure humping the word 'IT' answered the door.

“Excuse me, who’s car is this?” I pointed to the car blocking my driveway, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Fuck, dude, I was sleeping,” he groaned, and I didn't even try and hide my eye roll. Karma, I thought. “I don’t know,” he rubbed his eyes like a child, thinning my already impossibly thin patience.

“Where is Matt?”

“Probably sleeping, man, it’s like, barely even morning yet.”

I was painfully close to losing my temper. To avoid combusting on the spot, I sighed and pushed past the potentially still drunk guest. Or maybe other new neighbour. I sure hope not.

I scrunched my nose up at the state of his place - beer bottles strewn everywhere, the stale smell of cigarettes and weed clinging to the furniture, guests were passed out in each corner of the living room. I hugged my handbag close to me and stepped over the scattered limbs like a contortionist dodging laser beams, adamant on disrupting Matt's slumber like he had mine. I navigated his long hallway, pushing open every door, scoffing at the half naked bloke with two naked women clinging to either side of him. I near shuddered in disgust, wanting nothing more than to disinfect my entire body after being in the war zone of his house. Maybe I was only being so judgemental because I was irrevocably angry. Maybe.

I eventually found his room, which to my surprise, was almost compulsively clean and ordered with Patrick Bateman level precision. I stood before his bed with folded arms and wondered to myself if maybe he'd think I had some kind of bone disfigurement that kept my arms bent across me. I quickly relaxed them at my side.

"Matt," I spoke sternly. He didn't even stir. I bent down close to his face, raising my voice this time. "Matt."

Finally, his eyes flung open and he jumped, clamping a hand over his chest as if to stop it from bursting through his skin. “Fuck!” he panted softly. I rolled my eyes at him as he caught his breath and pulled away. As if deliberately oblivious, he stretched and spoke halfway through a groan, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Who’s car is parked over my driveway?”

“I have no clue,” he breathed as he smooshed his face into his pillow, voice still thick and croaky with sleep. His hair was unruly, but his glasses were neatly folded on his bedside table beside a glass of water and a packet of Advil.

“I’m going to be late for work,” I exclaimed as calmly as possible, though I was on the verge of a tantrum. I was oddly self conscious that he'd only seen me furious. “Whoever it belongs to, it needs to be moved. Like, five minutes ago.”

“Alright,” he sighed, groggily pushing the blanket from his body and sliding his glasses on, only clad in pyjama pants with m&m’s printed all over them.

He lead me through the dormant chaos of his house, even scrunching up his face from the mess. Or maybe the smell. He pushed a blind to the side and glanced out onto the street, seeing the culprit; a silver Mitsubishi Lancer. He then walked over to the supposed owner, kicking him softly in the side where he was laying on the floor. “Move your car, dude.”

The man just groaned and patted his jean pocket, face smushed into the little couch cushion beneath him, weakly handing the keys to Matt. He just rolled his eyes and trudged out the front, and I followed close enough behind that I almost nicked his heels with every step.

He clambered into the drivers seat with the air of a zombie, pulling the car onto the side of the road. I wasted no time getting into my car, reversing out of the driveway and rolling down my window, pulling up beside him. “Thank you,” I smiled with genuine appreciation, watching him run a hand through his hair in my rear view as I drove away.

[saturnzskyzz]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑙𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑦 𝐺𝑙𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠

Lee! Jax ler! Gloinks w/ point, ragatha, & Zooble

based on this drabble I did but way longer, and probably more humorized. (Disclaimer, my humor SUCKS)

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍! :]

Header credits

Divider credits

"Uhm~.. Guys? Didn't Caine make sure that those guys wouldn't come back?" Ragatha pointed at the many different shapes and colors bouncing around the stage.

Pomni, Zooble, and Jax, who were also there to see the scene unfold between many different Gloinks, appeared on the stage in clusters.

Jax then clicked his tounge, and smirked at the array of shapes. "Well, that's a shame. You guys have fun though! I'm going to my dor- HEY! Watch out you pesky little-*censor*" He had stopped within his tracks from the shapes that had prevented him to move any further. About five Gloinks were in the way, and their faces twisted and turned upon hearing the digital cast member curse.. Not that their duty was to punish those who curse within the digital circus, but because they abide to the rules of which the ringmaster had set in place.

"I don't think you should have said that Jax.. You know what had happened to Zooble." Pomni warned, realizing that the Gloinks were getting closer and closer.

"Hey, it's not my fault that these things wanted to be in my way- AH! Get off me!" Jax felt all five of them pounce on him at once, making him fumble to the ground with a loud thud.

"Gah! Do you things even know any sort of decency?! Because this is not it!" Jax struggled underneath the chaos that the Gloinks were causing. They were not in any way bigger in size, but they still had a powerful weight to them that they self awarengly grown to know. So Jax was in a bit of trouble to say the most. Not least, MOST.

"Uhm.. Guys? A little help here?! These things have a ton of weight to them and they're starting to feel uncomfortable on top of me." Jax said with a strained voice. He tried to twist and turn to somehow dislodge the determined little beasts, but it became no use fairly quick. He decided to resign his escape and to just lay there in hopes that his friends, or acquaintances to him, will bud in and help the poor dickhead dude.

"Guys, we should help!" Ragatha chimed in. she started to walk towards Jax until she heard Zooble clear their throat. She assumed that Zooble was getting ready to say something, so she collectively turned around.

"Or~! We stand here and watch to see what happens. Caine said he took care of the Gloinks. And I might have over heard him talk to Kinger about setting a rule for "Queen Gloink" or whatever, that they are of no harm." Zooble said. And apparently they were then holding up a clipboard with makeshift glasses on.

The rest looked at Zooble, and then turned around in unison to take a look at Jax who had a concerning look on his face that read, 'you guys really aren't going to leave me here with these guys, are you?' and then one more look back at Zooble who didn't have the glasses and clipboard anymore. What ever happened to them, I wonder??

"HEY! GIVE THAT BACK!!" Zooble yelled at Bubble, Caine's assistant, floating away from the group with Zooble's things.

Bubble didn't say a single word, they just popped out of existence once they flew up too high.

"Well that was something." Ragatha said confused.

"There goes my only happiness and escape from this digital he-" Zooble slowly approached their gaze to the Gloinks who all looked at zooble. "Heli..helo~..helico..ugh! I give up on these stupid Gloinks." Zooble waved them off, looking away from the shapes who were still on top of Jax.

"Air is kinda needed for my body to be able to be alive~ right now!!" Jax said Breathlessly. When will this day end?? Jax will never know.

"I don't know Jax.. You've been awfully rude to us ever since Pomni became apart of the digital world." Zooble said. They stared at Jax, having one of their hands on their hip.

"Zooble, please. This is the one tihime I'm-! Behehegging you?!.. Whahat the hell?!" Jax looked at where the Gloinks were peacefully chilling on Jax only to find out that they have started to grow bored of just standing on him, so they resulted to shaking their blocky bodies in order for Jax to feel a tingly sensation through out his torso and back.

"Uhm~ Why are they shaking, and why are you laughing? I thought you wanted our help, not to make fun of us for just standing here refusing to help?" Pomni said. She knew what was happening, but was wanting to gain the upper hand for once now that Jax has been getting his long awaited karma.

"Ihihi don't knohohow.. Gehehet them ohoff of mehe! They're behehing weird!" Jax responded, banging his fist on the ground from how unbearable the feeling was getting to him so quickly.

"Eh, it's not like they're harming you, you'll be fine!" Zooble then started to walk away from the scene, assuming that their job of being an annoyance to Jax was enough said than done.

"WAIT! Zohohoble please! These things have dohone enouohoOHOHOGH! AAH! OHOHohoho mihihihihy gohohod, staHAHAhap!" Jax all of a sudden felt another Gloink pop into the mess and started to go for his ears. You could say this was a melt spot.. Unfortunately for him.

"HAHA! your reaction was PRICELESS!" Zooble said stopping in their tracks to wipe a fake tear. They were honestly amused by the scene infront of them. They have been waiting for someone or something to stop Jax from being an asshole all the time. They just wished that they could take a picture of this very moment right about-

*click*

﹏﹏﹏

Everyone turned their heads to where that noise came from. And from everyone's shocked expressions, but a very not surprised audience, they all saw Caine with a big polariod camera in front of his face. The picture he had just took came out of the frame slot veeeeeery slowly.

"Aaaaand, we have a winner! Thanks Jax! This is JUST what I needed for today's show! Everyone is going to love the wall I have of all of you!" Caine said while snatching up the photo to wave around.

"Cahahaine, Ihihi wihill huhuhnt yohohou DOWN ihihif you don't geehet rihihid of that phohohoto right NOHOohohow!!" Jax tried to sound intimidating, but he couldn't with the Gloinks still tickling him.

"Hold on.. You have a picture wall of every single ONE OF US?!" Zooble yelled. They were starting to become annoyed.

"What do you mean a~.. Picture wall?" Pomni chimed in finally.

"Don't tell me you have me all glitched in pain too.." Ragatha said worried.

"Now now kiddos, this picture wall isn't all that bad.. There's only going to be about one thousand artificial intelligent people who get to see it with their very own eyes!" Caine announced. He then stuffed the photo in his pocket, looked at the crew, and then fleed out of the circus tent that had them in this predicament.

Everyone was silent.

"GUHUHUuhuhuy's!"

Well.. All except for Jax, of course.

"PLehehease! Ihihihi Wohohon't be a *censor* fohohor the rehest of THEHEHE DAHAY- AAH! STOHOHOP, IHIHI'Mhm sohoHOHORRY!!" Jax fell right into that one, unfortunately for him. The gloinks started to shake faster than before, causing Jax's laughter to go up an octave.

"Ugh! Oh my god, you guys deal with his obnoxious behavior. I'm going to my room." Zooble said, cleary beckming annoyed by Jax's laughter.

"I wouldn't call it obnoxious.. More so, it's new." Ragatha chimed in, walking up to Jax to try and get a gloink off of him, finally.

"Whahahat doho you mehean by nehehew, dohollfacehe?!" Jax managed to say a nickname, earning an annoyed expression on Ragatha's face.

"I mean that, you know.. We've never heard you let loose and laugh." Ragatha said, yanking a gloink off of Jax's back.

Pomni then walked up to Jax and tried to get a gloink off of him herself now.

"Yeah, I never knew that you were ticklish. I know this is my first week here, but it's endearing to know that the most stoic person can also let loose like this." Pomni decided to join in on the conversation, successfully pulling a gloink off of Jax's side. Only three more to go.

"Ahahand ihi wanted ihit to stahahy like thahat!" Jax argued.

"Well, not everything can work out how people wanted these to go. It's all part of life anyway." Ragatha said, trying to pull off a gloink that was attacking one of his ears.

"Wehell, thihihis is a digihital wohohorld, crazy things ahahare bound toho happen."

"The bunny giving life advise while in this predicament. How surprising." pomni added, taking a gloink off of Jax's other side. She then got up to go for the last gloink that was at Jax's other ear while Ragatha was still trying to get the other one.

"Cahan yohohou speed thihis uhuhup? Thehey are sohoho annoying." Jax complained, Lifting his head up the best that he could and covered up his face from slight embarrassment. Not that he needed to do that anyway, he was already facing the ground.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. They are hard to pull off." Ragatha said, finally getting the gloink off of him.

"Ragatha, I need help with this one." Pomni said. The gloink was pretty tough to dislodge, unfortunately.

"Yeah, I got it!" She walked on the other side of where pomni was, and was about to reach for the gloink until it surprisingly jumped away from the grabby hands and onto Jax's neck. Interesting landing choice, but not so surprising that it started to shake again.

"AAHAhaha! Whahahat thehehe-! Gehehet ihihit ohohoff!!" Jax went slightly red at the sudden touch, and started to scrunch up his shoulders.

"Aha, this one is a trickster gloink like you, Jax! How cute." Ragatha said, finally grabbing the last gloink and taking it off of his neck quite easily this time.

Jax turned over finally, and had still covered his face from the longing embarrassment that still crept at his face. He took long and rewarding breathes.

"Welp, our job here is done, so I'm gonna go to my dorm." Ragatha said, leaving Jax and pomni with the aftermath.

"Wehe are to nehever speak of this toho the two most mehentally stable people, ohokay, Pomni?" Jax said, peaking out of his hands to give her an intimidating glare like she was the one who tickled him to death.

"U-uhm..sure, Jax.." Pomni said, getting up to leave Jax there alone until she pumped into Kinger and Gangle.

"W-w-what did w-we miss?" Gangle said with a confused look.

"Why is Jax on the floor and covering his face?" Kinger gave a confusing look on his own.

"A jester never tells what they see!" Pomni said, running away from them two before Jax saw her with them.

"W-w-well that was s-something.." Gangle said, looking up at Kinger who was still looking at Jax.

He slowly avoided his gaze to look down at gangle.

"AAH-"

The ending was rushed but, oh well!

[blindmagdalena]

Back pain anon again, I love homie but he would honestly be such a whiny mf depowered. He’s like an angy kitten in the way that every new thing is an Indignity to be Suffered. He can’t hear through walls and you actually startle him? Humiliating. Stubbed his toe? Absolute misery. Oh gosh Imagine him getting SICK? Like actually ill? He would 100% think he’s in hell. Sorry king you have to take Tylenol like the rest of us

The man who has never so much as had a toothache in his life suddenly has to deal with the fact that sitting too long makes his back hurt, but lying down wrong will make his neck AND back hurt. He's got a headache because blue light from screens suddenly affects his eyes way worse, he definitely needs glasses to read, but he won't admit it, and on top of that, he didn't sleep enough last night. You've discovered he has 'Princess and the Pea' syndrome, and no matter what he does, the bed just doesn't feel right.

He catches his finger in the door and screams so loud, you'd think he'd been stabbed. He's grouchy as fuck when you bring him ice and a mix of painkillers.

"What, mixing narcotics now?" He asks sourly. " They're not narcotics. It's ibuprofen and Tylenol." "Great, because fuck my liver, too, right? Might as well wash it down with a sixpack of Pabst," he grumbles, slumping back against the couch.

You sigh, setting them down on the table alongside a glass of water. "Take them or don't, I'm just trying to help," you say, but as you turn to leave, he catches your hand. "Wait, just... Sit down a minute, alright?" He says, voice tight. It makes you feel a little guilty. You know this is hard for him, but it hasn't exactly been easy for you, either. With only a trace of lingering reluctance, you sit down. He still has his fingers curled around your wrist. His thumb absently taps against your skin. "What is it?" You ask, trying not to sound as tired as you feel. He's not the only one who hasn't been sleeping. His lips are pursed, jaw tight. Every so often his jaw will relax, his lips will move as if to speak, but inevitably they tighten back up. He wants to answer, he has something to ask of you, he just doesn't seem to know how to.

Perhaps he wants assurance. Comfort. You were beginning to feel like he was taking your words for granted, but... You startle him by pulling your hand out of his grasp. He looks up at you, ready to protest, but stops when you catch him by the back of his neck, and pull him down into your arms, cradling him to your chest. "It's okay," you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair. "It's going to be okay. I promise. I'm going to take care of you."

He's stiff for a long moment, rigid in the gentleness of your embrace, but when he lets go, he sinks wholly into your hold. He slips his arms around your waist and nuzzles up into the crook of your neck, exhaling a shaky breath.

It's been harder these days than it ever was for him to admit any weakness at all. At least when he had his powers, he felt safety in being vulnerable with you. He had the means to protect himself, to be independent. He was physically invulnerable. Now, it's as if any admittance at all of needing you terrifies him. More now than ever, now that he relies on you for more than just his emotional needs.

"I love you," he says quietly, hands balling up into fists in the fabric of your shirt. He squeezes you against him, and though he may not be a supe anymore, his grip is strong. Needy. "I know," you say, voice soft. You stroke through his hair with one hand while the other rubs soothing circles on his back. "I love you, too. We're going to get through this."

He doesn't respond other than by pushing into you, forcing you to recline back onto the couch. He's still as warm as he ever was, and his weight feels good against your body. You exhale a deep breath, only now feeling how much tension you had been carrying.

Limbs tangled up on the couch, you both sleep better than either of you have in weeks.