#well. I wouldn't. But I'd like to think I woulda.

[grujaja]

What new noises are the best? Which are the worst?

" Da... bad ones. there's lots. Mostly da surprise ones. Ain't used to it but don't think I'm evah gonna be. Bangs, whirrs... even bugs if I ain't got these... uh. noise sa-press-ahs. I hate 'em. And chewin'. I even forgot Al's chewin DRIVES ME NUTS. Nevah closes his mouth... but the good ones. A couple... my favourite? "

" I CAN FINALLY LISTEN TO " OH, PARTNAH MINE " !!!!!! "

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

[peppermintquartz]

8x04 Coda: Home Again

-

"Hey honey, I'm home," Tommy sings out from the door.

Evan bursts out from the study, eyes wide and a huge, disbelieving smile on his face. "Tommy!" He runs right up to his boyfriend and hugs him, before planting a big, wet kiss on his mouth, his hands already shoving his bag off his shoulder and rucking his shirt out of his jeans.

Laughing into the enthusiastic welcome, Tommy says, "Easy there, tiger, what's the rush? Also, I'm sorry I missed all the excitement."

"Chimney tranked a tiger today!" Evan says, reluctantly releasing Tommy from his embrace, though he doesn't let go of Tommy's wrists. "He rappelled down to the window of an apartment and tranked it. It was so awesome."

"An actual tiger."

"Uh-huh."

"In an apartment."

"Yup."

Tommy blows out his cheeks. "Aw man, that woulda been a fun call." All he's got was a seminar on updated fire suppression tactics

"Right?" Evan kisses him again, gentler and sweeter. "Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? It's still a little early for dinner, but I know you hate flying commercial, and I bet you haven't eaten on your flight-"

"Baby, Evan, relax. Come here, let me hold you." Tommy hugs his boyfriend and burrows his face into Evan's shoulder. He smells of Tommy's shower gel and shampoo, and he recognizes the jacket and T-shirt. It's good to know Evan missed him as much as Tommy himself did. "It's so good to be home again."

Evan returns the hug, his lips seeking out the soft spot under Tommy's ear. He mumbles, "...this is so much better than Gerrard's."

Tommy must have misheard. He pulls back and frowns at Evan. "What did you say?"

"Uh, this is so much better than Gerrard's?"

What?

"What?"

Evan flushes. "Well, I told you about how I tackled him and he thinks I saved him, and that, um, somehow translated to me being his favorite? Which I really don't want to be? And he hugged me and thanked me? And... Well. He touches me. All the time." He looks miserable, his lower lip sticking out in a pout.

Tommy likes to think he's pretty even-keeled. He's seen how destructive anger can be, so he keeps a tight rein on his own temper. So he is entirely Not Incandescent with Fury at the thought of that decrepit motherfucker laying a single finger on his man.

"Evan. I'm gonna kill him," he says, in a completely non-murderous tone. He is Entirely Rational about this. "Tomorrow. I'm gonna kill him tomorrow."

"What? No, I didn't mean, no, not like creepy touch. Just, uh, uncomfortable. I think he thinks it's... fatherly? Which, I totally do not want." Evan shudders.

Gerrard will be buried in a hole with fire ants and roaches and scorpions. In the middle of the desert. Maybe the killer bees are still around. Tommy will lure them to the desert where Gerrard will be buried and spray him with that perfume.

"He... He took me golfing."

Tommy holds Evan more tightly. "Yeah, I'm gonna kill him. Painfully."

"Honey, we're not married, we wouldn't be able to have conjugal visits when you're in jail." Evan kisses him, rubbing up and down his back soothingly. "And I would rather you direct all that energy and passion to better uses."

Taking a long, deep breath, Tommy rests his forehead against Evan's. "Better uses?"

"Like... how about, showing me what you missed about me?" Evan asks shyly, sliding his hands to Tommy's waist and tugging on his belt. He catches his lower lip in his teeth. "I know I'd rather do that..."

His boyfriend is so smart and full of bright ideas. Tommy licks his lips. "Yeah. Let's do that instead."

[goldfades]

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ─ NK¹⁰

౨ৎ ─ summary | nika calls her girlfriend while they're at an away game, only to be teased by her team (and nika, of course). REQUESTED! -> "MOREEE NIKAAA PLSSSS UR SO GOOD"

─ word count | 685

─ warnings | nothing but sweetness, fluff and some teasing!

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

"YOU SHOULD'VE JUST SLAPPED HER," NIKA'S voice rung from your phone speaker as you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"Oh trust me, I wanted to." You joked as you leaned back into your bed, a tired yawn escaping your lips. Nika was at an away game and per usual ─ Nika had to call you and talk to you.

Even if it was only a couple days away from each other, she needed to hear your voice because the one time she didn't call you at an away game ─ they lost, badly. And of course because she misses your sexy voice.

The sound of her laughter echoed through the phone, a comforting melody that soothed your tired mind. "If I was there, I woulda slapped her for you."

"I know you would have, baby." You rolled your eyes as you playfully replied, the fondness evident in your tone. "But then we'd both be in trouble, and who would cheer for you at your next game?"

Nika chuckled, the sound music to your ears. "Good point. Can't have my lucky charm getting banned from the arena, we'd never make it to playoffs."

You smiled, imagining Nika's smirk on the other end of the line. "Exactly. Besides," you added, "I wouldn't want to miss cheering you on. You know I'm your number one fan."

Nika's laughter bubbled over again, warming your heart even more. "Damn right you are. I'd be lost without you there, cheering me on with that sexy voice of yours."

You couldn't help but blush at her compliment, feeling a rush of affection for her. "Well, I'll make sure to save my best cheers for you."

"That's all I ask," Nika replied, her voice softening. "Just knowing you're there, rooting for me, means everything."

Before you could respond, you heard a bunch of voices laughing in the background teasing her. You could only guess that it's her teammates, a smile playing on her lips.

"Oh shut up, you guys are all jealous 'cus you don't have a hot girlfriend cheering you on!" Nika called out to her teammates, her tone playful yet teasing.

The voices in the background only grew louder, confirming your suspicions. It seemed like Nika's teammates enjoyed teasing her about her softness for you, but you knew it was all in good fun.

"I swear, you guys are worse than a bunch of gossiping high schoolers," Nika exclaimed, her laughter mixing with the banter of her teammates.

"Sounds like you're having fun over there," you remarked, amusement evident in your voice. "Tell them I said hi. And that they better treat my girl right, or they'll have to answer to me."

Nika laughed, her voice amused as some of the girls began laughing as well. "Don't worry, babe. They know better than to mess with you."

"Why are you laughing? You don't think I'm intimidating, Nika?" You mocked hurt as you scoffed, swallowing the urge to join in the laugher as you pushed the blanket to your shoulders.

Nika's laughter only intensified at your mock hurt, her voice laced with amusement. "Oh, believe me, babe, you're the most intimidating person I know. I'm shaking in my boots over here."

"Oh shut up, you've been hanging too much with Paige. She's rubbing off on you, shaking in your boots?" You repeated, playfully scoffing.

"Hey, don't blame Paige for my awesome sense of humor," Nika retorted, her laughter still audible in the background. "Besides, a little boot-shaking never hurt anyone."

You couldn't help but laugh at Nika's comeback, her wit as sharp as ever. "Fine, fine, I'll let it slide this time. But don't think you're off the hook for teasing me."

Nika's laughter gradually subsided, replaced by a softer, more affectionate tone. "Wouldn't dream of it, baby. You know I love teasing you almost as much as I love you."

Your heart fluttered at her words, a warmth spreading through you at the reminder of her affection. "Almost, huh? Well, I'll take what I can get."

"Good," Nika replied, her voice gentle. "Because you've got all of me, now and forever."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[mysteryshoptls]

Leona Kingscholar Shared Lines

Tutorial: Hey, time to go. Follow me.

Level Up 1: Feels nice gettin' tributes.

Level Up 2: This ain't bad... But it's not nearly enough.

Level Up 3: Gaining more power never hurts.

Level Max: Hah, I feel as though everything is now in my grasp. If you're going to keep working hard for me like this, I guess I can throw you a bone.

Vignette Level Up: Never thought I'd be up to hangin' with a herbivore... But this is getting pretty interesting. As long as you don't cause me any issues, I'll keep lookin' after you.

Spell Level Up: You're probably the only one who actually would want to practice magic with me. Most people'll just tuck their tails and run away.

Friendship Level Up: I don’t like being constantly disturbed. So in that sense, this place is perfect and quiet.

Friendship Level Max: I don’t mind coming by this guest room once in a while. Make sure you have a place to nap and some food ready for me.

Uncapped: I can do it so long as I put my mind to it, ain't it obvious? I just don't want to.

Groovification: You want to see what I can really do? Heheh... A herbivore like you wouldn't nearly be ready to handle that.

Lesson Select 1: Hey you, sit in front of me. I'm gonna sleep behind you.

Lesson Select 2: It ain't that hard of a decision, is it? I'm tired of waitin' around.

Lesson Select 3: Time for a peaceful study time with everyone all buddy-buddy, huh. No thanks.

Lesson Start: Ugh, this sucks.

Lesson Finish: Yaaawn. That was a boring class, I already knew all that.

Battle Start: I can fight with more than just my fists and fangs.

Battle Won: Did you really think you could win against me?

GIFT CALENDAR 2023: “How will you be spending the day?” No plans worth mentioning. What, not what you were expecting? Well, too bad. The campus is completely covered in snow, so the best thing for me to do is just to get back to my dorm room and relax while solving some chess problems.

Birthday Story 1: My birthday isn’t anything special. It’s just the day I was born. …Well if you’re really saying you want to celebrate it, I won’t forcibly stop you. Presents are always welcome.

Birthday Story 2: What’d you want? …Ah, you came to celebrate my birthday. Then, I guess I’ll have you grill some meat for me, or something. You’ll have to make it exactly the way I want it. You said you wanted to celebrate me, right? I’ll let you keep trying until you get it down pat. I look forward to see how much I get to eat.

Birthday Story 3: So, you came to wish me a happy birthday, huh? Well, ain’t that admirable of you. So, what did you bring me, then? At the very least, you are presenting a gift to royalty. As such, I’m sure you’ve prepared a very fine gift. …Hey, don’t freeze up on me. Sheesh, jokes just fly over your head, huh. I’ll take it off your hands, so show me what you got behind your back, already.

Birthday Story 4: …Ugh. As I’m sure you can tell, I’m in the middle of a nap. If you need something from me, ask me later. If you just wanted to celebrate my birthday, a card woulda been plenty… But, fine. Here, hand it over. [Yuu startles] Whaddya mean, hand what over? …Obviously, I’m talking about my gift. I’m expecting it to be something good to make up for the rude awakening.

Requested by Anonymous.

[brainrot-stitch]

AHAAA I FINISHED IT WOAHHH i usually don't finish art things omg...

Anyways current sabre design!!! (It will probably change bc I can NEVER make up my mind on any design ever sob)

He's such a goof :3 (IM NEVER DRAWING THAT RAINBOW ELYTRA AGAIN IM CRYING)

Anyways some headcanons below cuz I feel like yapping :3

-rainbow totally would have gotten him and sabre friendship necklaces (yk the matching kind with magnets that come together n all) and after knowing lucas for a bit he woulda made friendship bracelets !!

-like that one person I reblogged said, he's such a mad scientist he's so silly omgg

-i love the reincarnation au SO MUCH its literally fire but in normal headcanons I think he used to be part of the creed and an assasin and ermm

Basically I headcanon his whole assassins creed series was basically his backstory before starting to do research on these 'steve' entities

-when nervous/anxious his footsteps will be completely silent out of habit from the whole assassin thing, and he'd obviously do it when purposefully trying to sneak (he has probably scared rainbow or Lucas multiple times by doing this..)

-I'm not sure weather to headcanon that his wings were damaged by a steve really early on in the steve saga (like before rainbow could speak or maybe when dark was still pretending to be blue) or if it was smth that happened when he was still an assassin but it's one of those!!!

-hes an avian.. heh... if u couldn't tell from the ref sheet.. but NOT a chicken!! The chicken jokes are just bc of the hoodie and bc his feathers look a lil similar :3

-he has like 2 of the same chicken hoodie he'll wear most often but still has some normal outfits AND assassins outfits and weapons he keeps away (most are green or have some sort of green in them heh.. I might draw that later)

-ok ok ok I have so many eye headcanons it's so hrggrrrrh the main one tho is one I snatched from the reincarnation au and that's that he doesn't have eyes!! Bc of an injury or sum and he js says he has sensitive eyes and the bandana fabric is see through up close.. but he can still see bc he's a player and the way players work is weird. Other headcanon, green eyes. Other headcanon, brown eyes. Other headcanon, heterachromia green and brown eyes. Other headcanon pure white eyes. Other headcanon code eyes. Other headcanon (gets hit by a bus)

-if we r going with the reincarnation au for the eyes, I feel like only rainbow and Lucas would know, if we're going with the others, I'd say rainbow, Lucas, Alex, galaxy, and maybe the guardian (I forgot if that's what he was called or not) would know. If we're going with the code eyes, then only lucas would know

-not sabre specifically but I feel like steves in general wouldn't be very used to or know but about blood/gore stuff, bc they're more used to being destroyed/poofing, and later on being destroyed through a machine. Being actually killed by a sword or something of the sort they are not used to seeing, and are very touchy on the subject

-on that note I imagine if there's like a steve that's immune to most or all other steve powers and or machines that they're trying to get rid of and arguing on what to so abt I imagine sabre being like "oh 1 sec I got this" and boom that mf DEAD 😭

-and they'd b like 😰

"Guess we're gonna have to kill this guy sabre" "damn"

-ermmm silly billy activity...

-I feel like he'd know a lot more than the other steves on things like the nether and end (not end city tho that's a whole other mc headcanon I don't feel like yapping abt rn) bc those are the dimensions players have access too and steves usually dont.. so they'd b like "WTF SABRE WHAT R U DOING THAT IS A LITERAL HELLSCAPE WITH LAKES OF FIRE AND MONSTERS WEVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE FYM U CAN GET 'NETHERITE' THERE" and he'd b like "well don't go in the fire then and it anything attacks u kill it ig" (not actually sob.. I feel like only he and Lucas would go there bc most steves r hindered greatly by lava and the only ones we've seen that aren't are bad guys if my memory is correct)

Ermm I have more but I'm eepy and can't remember so those r for another day!!!

Reblogs>likes

Don't post my art to other platforms without my permission pls x3

[skeletboi]

Super short update because my life is a mess.

But here is part 24 of the Intridimensional Au!

First /// Previous /// Next

__________________________________________

“Impressive as ever.” Ford said as he looked at the robot arm on the work bench.

“Thanks, Stanford.” Fiddleford replied quietly.

Ford watched Fiddleford place his good hand over the arm then glanced up at Fiddleford's face and frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Lots a’ things are, I reckon.” Fiddleford said with a humorless huff of laughter. “Ya know when I went back home fer Christmas and fergot ta get Emma-May a present?”

“I recall, yes.” Ford responded, his frown deepening.

“She was already purdy darn mad at me before that. I wore baggy sweaters ta try and hide the metal cast on my arm so she wouldn't go worryin’ ‘bout it, but Tate ain't dumb and heard the hum of the components. He asked me about it, ‘cuz he's at that age where they ask a million questions, and I told him it was a metal cast. ‘Course he's an imaginative kid so he immediately started calling it a robit arm. He ran ta Emma-May ta tell her, and I thought she was ‘bout to murder me on the spot.” Fiddleford paused and picked up the arm. “He'd love this, but Emma-May would hate it.”

“I love it, if that makes you feel any better.” Ford said, placing a hand on Fiddleford's back.

“It does.” Fiddleford said with another quiet laugh. “But I can't stop thinkin’ about that. Emma-May knew how I felt ‘bout you in college, and we got in a purdy big fight ‘bout it before I came ta Gravity Falls. I love Emma-May, but our parents both loved the idea of us bein’ together more than we did. I think maybe we were more like best friends than spouses, but I promised her I'd be back ‘cause, above all else, we jus’ wanted Tate ta have a normal childhood.” Fiddleford set the arm back down and choked on a laugh that sounded suspiciously more like a sob. “‘Spose I'll jus’ hafta live with the fact that he won't. I don’ know if he'll ‘member me at all.”

“Fidds…” Ford said softly, unsure of what else to say with his own guilt and regret tearing at his chest.

“If I knew it was gonna turn out this way I prolly woulda jus’ said screw it and kissed ya as soon as ya opened the door to yer damn creepy cabin in the woods.”

Ford cracked a smile at that, but Fiddleford still looked a thousand miles away as he stared down at the arm.

“You would have stopped me.” Ford said after a moment.

Fiddleford glanced over at him in question.

“You say you would have kissed me right then, but I know you, and, if you had known this was the outcome, you would have left.” Ford clarified.

“Maybe.” Fiddleford responded thoughtfully, “But maybe not. Maybe I’m too scared in every timeline.”

“Fuck that.” Stan said, coming up behind them and dropping the last box at their feet. “I saw your face when Ford mentioned fighting back against Bill. That wasn't fear. That was determination.”

Fiddleford smiled sadly over his shoulder at Stanley.

“I thought you'd grow out of being so cheesy.” Ford deadpanned.

“Nope!” Stan replied with a smile. “But if you two are done being nauseating, we have some boxes to go through. I found a box of brown meat! It says it expires in 1993, but who the fuck knows what year it is in this dimension. My plan is to eat it now, ask questions later!”

“I believe you meant ‘die of food poisoning later’.” Ford noted.

“Or die of starvation! Might as well eat mystery food and die the fun way!” Stan laughed.

“Dysentery don't sound fun.” Fiddleford replied.

“Whatever, nerds.” Stan said, motioning to the boxes. “Just grab what you want so we can get on with life. I found a shot gun, too. You're welcome.”

Fiddleford laughed but did as he was told and put aside his arm project to start rummaging through the boxes.

___________________________________________

Sorry non-Fiddauthor fans. I needed Fiddauthor.

I originally wasn't going to write this bit in, but I wanted to give some context to the guilt they're both still feeling and the relationship between Emma-May and Fidds. Emma-May is bi in this universe, but prefers woman. Is that a cop-out to make myself feel better about how much Fidds hurt her? Yes, yes it is. But I am doing it anyway because I do what I fucking want.

I have another art piece nearly done, so I'll probably post it tomorrow. For now, enjoy. Or whatever.

[flyingwargle]

the aijinomoto national training center is curtained in darkness, with only neon green emergency lights illuminating the corridors. as midnight nears, the only audible sounds are shuffling blankets from the high school athletes participating in the weeklong training camp, the central heating system working to stave off the winter's chill, and a hushed voice in the corner of the sitting room, irritated face lit up by his phone.

"-seriously," atsumu grumbles, "ya'd think that there wouldn't be scrubs at this camp, but then there's someone like him here, an' that makes ya wonder how he was invited."

"mmhmm." osamu's noncommittal hum is soft on the other end.

"ya woulda beat his socks off, 'samu. he ain't got a candle ta ya."

"maybe he's just crazy, like ya. the way ya described the others, they all have their own brand of crazy."

atsumu snorts. "as if yer not crazy yerself."

"i am," osamu concedes. "just not 'bout volleyball."

"yeah, i know." his voice lowers to a whisper. "i know."

they're silent, listening to each other breathe. the seconds pass on the digital clock on the wall, scarlet red in the darkness. a minute passes, closer to midnight. "is everythin' okay at home?"

"it's only been a day, 'tsumu. stop makin' it sound like ya've been gone for a month."

"it feels like it," atsumu mumbles. "haven't been this far from home before." that's not true, and osamu knows it, but he doesn't call him out. "ya still have practice tomorrow, right?"

"obviously. we gotta prepare for the spring tournament." there's shuffling, and atsumu can envision his brother on his bunk, half-buried under his blankets, stomach on the mattress, elbows propped up, phone pressed to his ear. "what 'bout ya? don't ya hafta start early tomorrow?"

"eh, breakfast is at nine. lotsa time 'till then."

"not if ya stay up longer when yer 'sposed ta be asleep by now," osamu scoffs. "well, ya better have fun playin' volleyball fer a whole week. i'd die, if that were me."

"well, ya better have fun at school. glad i ain't there."

"guess i don't hafta get class notes fer ya."

"gin already said he'd grab 'em fer me."

the clock reads 12:01 am. the line falls silent. "i'm gonna go ta sleep," osamu says, "unless ya need me fer anythin' else?"

atsumu blinks. "did i ask?"

"well, ya called first, so i just assumed yer homesick."

"i ain't homesick! it's just a routine call. ya can expect one again tomorrow."

"ya won't die if ya don't call, 'tsumu. ya'll be fine on yer own."

"i know."

"okay, then i'm goin’ ta bed. g'night."

"g'night, scrub." the line goes quiet and atsumu lowers his phone. his picture for osamu changes regularly, thanks to suna. the newest one is his twin sleeping with his mouth open while on the bus back from last month’s training camp. before that, it was a selfie they’d taken after winning the top prize for a claw machine. and before that, it was a photo he snuck of osamu making onigiri, smile soft and eyes crinkled in concentration.

he peels himself off the armchair and wanders down the corridor, passing their designated shared rooms, finding the stairs that lead to the ground floor. he eventually finds his way to the gym, shoving the unlocked door open, sliding his slippered feet across the court.

atsumu sits cross-legged, neck craned to stare at the ceiling. he was able to quash the heavy feeling in his stomach earlier with volleyball, doing his best to adjust to the other players, observing their habits and styles. it was only after they were dismissed for the evening that the feeling settled in his bones and permeated his mind.

'samu isn't here with me.

it isn’t like they’d never been separated before. once, they continuously argued where to go for a family trip, so atsumu and their mom went to hiroshima, and osamu and their dad went to kamakura. they stayed over at different friends’ houses before throughout junior high, too. sure, none of those absences were longer than a weekend, and they always came back unscathed.

so what's different this time?

he thinks of osamu’s aloof expression when he learned only atsumu was picked for the camp. he thinks of his detached interest whenever they watched matches for leisure than research. he thinks of that night when he saw osamu engrossed in making onigiri, to the point he didn’t even notice atsumu.

this isn't homesickness. this is the start of an end.

his quiet sobs echo around him, endless stream of tears staining the floor. his shoulders shake, hiccupping breaths caught in his throat. he jolts when something drapes over him, a body pressing against his. it’s a blanket, soft and warm. he clutches it tighter around him. “leave me alone.”

“is sitting a crime?” the voice is muffled behind a mask but still sympathetic.

“go somewhere else.”

“i’m fine here.”

that only makes atsumu cry harder. of course, it’s sakusa who finds him like this, pathetic and vulnerable. although they bicker and glower at each other when there’s a net between them, outside of it, atsumu dares to call him a friend, having been acquainted with him since the first training camp they had together. he was glad to see him again, even if he stuck by his cousin most of the time. a familiar face is better than no one.

“are you homesick?”

“no.” atsumu’s sleeves are wet with tears.

there’s a pause. “you miss osamu.” the twins attended the camp together last year; if one half isn’t here, it’s easy to tell why.

“i don’t.” it isn’t a lie. he wants this camp as the first step to making his own identity as miya atsumu, setter, not miya atsumu, setter who can pull off combos with miya osamu. “it’s just…”

his voice catches in his throat. how can he explain the vague sensation in his mind, when he doesn’t know what it is, himself? how can he admit that he’s afraid that his brother might not play with him in the future, when he knows it might not be true?

but it is. you know it is. atsumu just shakes his head. “it’s complicated.”

he feels sakusa lean against him further, the weight on his back strangely comforting. “you aren’t alone. you have me, even motoya, if you want. if you ever…need someone to talk to, we’re here. the camp is only for a week, anyway. you’ll be back soon.”

you have me. it fills him with warmth, makes the tears slow. that doesn’t just apply to sakusa, but osamu, too. yes, it’ll hurt if what he suspects is true, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone. they’ll separate, they’ll go different ways, but they’ll come back, unscathed. because that’s what brothers do.

“thanks, omi.”

sakusa hums. “ready to go to sleep?”

“i think so.” together, they clamber to their feet, and sakusa leads him out. atsumu glances over his shoulder, where his tears remain on the court. they’ll dry, the evidence of the night erased, but he’ll hold it close to him, just like sakusa’s warmth on his back.

--

inspiration: this fanart of sakusa and atsumu sitting back to back while atsumu is crying <3 dialogue tweaked to match the drabble!

[citrine-elephant]

thinkin about what woulda happened to leon if simmons did manage to capture him....

(lore ramble + whump idea ramble)

so... correct me if i'm wrong, but...

simmons wanted to pin everything on leon and helena, but probably leon specifically. because of benford wanting to expose raccoon, and because of leon both witnessing raccoon, and forced into servitude after his survival.

leon probably could have cleared his name with enough of a fight, i'd imagine. hunnigan would find something. ada would've dropped off intel that she could.

so wiping out tall oaks was the cherry on top -> to silence the "final" witness and potential whistleblower (assuming there's no one else who's as high of a threat to simmons)

... not to mention who leon's got a crush on...

was helena just a means to an end, then...? simmons was a sadistic fuck and would probably torture people for fun, but if she had any more significance to him, then, i missed it-

simmons was willing to kill a friend of 30 years to protect The Family and whatever the hell they had going on trying to control the world. clearly, peak mental stability.

but as sadistic as simmons was. he wouldn't have been satisfied pinning everything on leon (and helena) and having him rot in a cell, right? prison's too good.

who knows what he'd have done with helena. use her to continue torturing leon? probably.

simmons would've blacksited him probably. dead to the world. no one to save him.

shove it in real deep about how simmons won and leon lost. how everyone thinks leon's a (dead) terrorist. how everyone thinks he was the one to kill so many people. and maybe how simmons was a grand hero now... and how leon can't do a goddamn thing to fix that.

you think simmons would hunt down everyone? one by one. just to make leon miserable. what do you think he'd do with em? pin crimes on them? kill them? introduce them to his favourite torture doll?

i don't think simmons would even NEED to have a vendetta against leon. c-virus made him lose his mind, but... dude's a fuckin nutjob and probably pops a stiffy when someone marginally looks unhappy.

more lore rambling below! :3c... dear god,

came to me in mental illness (skin picking bcuz anxiety lol)

these ideas clicked far too late, but i haven't consumed ALL resident evil media. so ... gotta be nice to myself. some stuff gets lost in translation, some stuff has weird delivery, some things aren't obvious on a surface, or just below, level. be nice.... aough!

some of the ways the lore is delivered though. infinite darkness? i knew leon wasn't a bootlicker, but the scene with claire at the end felt off and i was so fuckin lost.... until someone else pointed out that he was protecting claire. (i'd like to know if leon saved chip thingie that for later, or anonymously whistleblowed that?)

i like that it's not so heavy-handed, but whew... i don't feel smart!

so leon was forced into his position, right? but it was because of what he witnessed, not that he was simply a survivor? or, well, what he witnessed and how he survived, i guess.

they could've easily shot him in the head, then and there. but, was he kept alive for sherry? or because he managed to survive all that?

was the threat against sherry a bluff?

with leon's nature being one to quite literally throw himself in front of a bullet for some stranger, that could've just been used against him, right?

would they have done anything to sherry? sure, they needed to conduct tests and whatnot, i know that's canon from re6. what would they have done, anyway?

was threatening sherry simply to fuck with leon's head and keep him in line? threatening leon's life would've done jack shit to coerce him. but an innocent kid...

and an innocent kid. was keeping leon alive to keep her in line, too? and to add, they hadn't seen each other for a long ass time, right? like. re6 leon recognized her (i sure as hell wouldn't) but they were kept apart? to... keep each other from rebellion or some shit? control and all that?

god, the amount of psychological torture he had to endure. brainwashing. to an extent, of course. how much of leon's survivors' guilt came from the government coercing him into working for them? how much he blamed himself. how much of that you think was put in his head for him?

[givekennyabreak]

S3 episode five live tweeting reacting

Spoiler alert obviously

Randall :((( never thought I'd be a Randall stan yet here I am

Mari saying a single phrase to Kenny got me giddy man, let them be FRIENDS

JADE RUNNING AWAY WHEN HE HEARD ABOUT TABBY‼️‼️‼️

Henry is SO PRECIOUS ISTG

Victor :((((((((

Sara stumbling after Victor is actually so cute ugh

JadeTabby endgame. The way he was SO RELIEVED

Ethan is such a smart kid man, he knows all the lore

Jim. Ily my fellow stem but please SHUT UP

"I've been there, there's nothing to see" "oh. You mean besides the magic tree" JADE GSHSHSJSHSJ

There's numbers in the bottles. Just like a lot of numbers in LOST. HM.

"I think this place does a really great job on messing with our heads" it took me 3 seasons to agree with Jim on something

"pardon my french" BYE

Tabby's little smile when Jade keeps cursing and apologizing :(((((

Kenny looking like a whole snack again jfc

He looks so cozy

There IS something bigger outside town. HM

Agreed with Mari, the bullet thing was weird

"I'm telling u" Kristi bbygirl :((((( precious

The sapphics win. They're so soft omg

Kristi's foot is a 'miracle' huh. Just like Ethan's leg wound healed faster than it would in normal circumstances. Yet Nicky was stabilized and died. HUH

Boyd no :((((

Henry is such a precious person. I cannot handle.

"all that time my little boy was here, alone" don't touch me.

There are so many people in town??? I never noticed that

Dale SHUT THE FUCK UP

"just tell em the truth" Jim. Thank u

Julie looking outta the window like Fatima told her in s1 :((

ELGIN VSHSBSJSH PLS GIVE THIS KID A BREAK

Kids unite!!!!!!!

Victor no :((((((((((( oh God that's so sad

"he's waiting for a little boy who drove away a long time ago" good god

"you're really bad at this"

The head leaning :(((( cuties

YES PEOPLE, TALK. TELL THINGS TO EACH OTHER

Julie :(((((((( girl has PTSD and no one to talk to

"best way to make us suffer is to give us hope" damn

They're so stupid. Tabby would tell anyone about town and they'd immediately throw her into the psych ward

YES HENRY.

yes cop woman. Do the bare minimum

CLARA WHAT THE FUCK??????

FATIMA?????????

TABBY :(((((((((

Yes Boyd. Tell em

BAKTA I'm sorry baby but that's just stupid

ELLIS???????

Why are these people so stupid 😭😭😭😭

YES KENNY TELL THEM

I wouldn't survive a day with Dale in town. I woulda strangled him the first day

I'm sorry but this scene with Jade Tabby and Ethan is so funny 😭😭😭😭😭 all of them going against Jim 🤝🏼

"you're helping by staying here" I love how she knows exactly what to say to make him stay

"well, guess what? We're all fucking upset" PREACH

Ellis. My dude what the fuck

Boyd I love you 😭😭😭😭

Colony house has a BASEMENT??????

KIDS BEING KIDS I LOVE THEM

"go be sorry, then. Try not to kill anybody" SPITTING FACTS HSUSHSI IM CTYING

Oh ew not the vegetables again

Henry and Ethan!!!!!!!

Oh my God that's so precious 😭😭😭😭 they're friends

"everyone he ever loved died here" 😭

VICTOR AND HENRY!!!!!!!!!!

I love how they actually look alike. 10/10 casting

Oh man I'm gonna cry

THE HUG 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"I didn't know how to get home" Kill me now

Bakta pep talk!!!!

Jade short king. I love him

NUMBERS

Jade :((((((

ITS A HOLE. I KNEW IT

"it only looks like chaos until you understand the pattern" the most stem phrase ever

DALE?????????

DALE WHAT ARE U DOING

"that's what a smart person would do" my dude, that's not it 😭😭😭😭

WHAT RHE HELL

"can u help him?" HES CEMENTED IN THE WALL

Yup he's gone

"still wanna go through the tree?" I'm loving the sarcasm

Donna just can't win. Give her a break

[twisted-confessions]

Is your OC (Bella) shipped with anyone? If so, who? What's their dynamic like?

(This took me a while to write lol, I'm SO SORRY for the late reply, this somehow slipped down in my drafts lol)

Asks from here

Yes Bella is shipped with someone! As for who, well I'm still deciding lol. The main issue is my personal biases to characters which has lead me to be stuck between three of them. Malleus, Leona and Azul. I DID do a poll and Malleus won by a LANDSLIDE (a Dragon Prince and a Dragon Girl, who woulda thunk?)

So for their dynamics, I'll go over each of what I have for them all so far in a short summary!

Malleus x Bella (Aka The Dragon ship lol): Same kinda chemistry in the main game like Malleyuu, however I'd be focusing a lot more on bringing Malleus into more scenes and having him get more involved with some of the issues (ex. Bella inviting him over the holidays in Book 4 or Malleus offering to let her stay in Diasomnia occasionally). It'd start off as Malleus growing more curious at this other "Dragon-that's-the-last-of-it's-kind" and by bonding over Toothless, as well as the feeling of being outcast for how you were born, Bella and Malleus would slowly start warming up to each other, especially when Bella realises he's a draconic fae and when Mal realises she somehow has draconic powers. Bella would also be very intrigued by his talks about Gargoyles and learning their history since it helps her learn more about Twisted Wonderland's history. He at first would call her Child of Man but once they become closer and more teasing flirty Mal might start calling her Child of Dragons or Mother of Dragons instead lol. I have a plot twist planned that reveals Bella was actually brought into the future rather that isekaied, making her older than Lilia even. I feel like after this plot reveal, Malleus would more than likely start seeing her more than a child and would help her when she struggles trying to accept that she's lost everyone she knew and loved, making Book 7 VERY interesting when she helps return the favour lol. I feel like this relationship would never actually be addressed between the two until the end of Book 7, neither of them wanting to put a label to their feelings since they know it can't last forever like they want. If Bella chose to stay in Twst, I can imagine the two of them ruling over the Briar Valley together after Mal makes her his princess 😊

Leona x Bella (Aka First Place Losers or Second Chance): Now THIS is an interesting couple! In Book 2, Bella would understand how crushing it is to never be able to step out of your older royal brother's shadow despite how much you try, which would help her try all that much more to snap Leona out of his Overblot. I can feel this being a very slowburn sort of relationship, purely because of how much Leona wouldn't want to get attached lol. But Bella is as stubborn as they come and would continuously try to talk to Leona more after his Overblot about how she truly does understand being denied every chance to lead just because you were born second. Eventually, curiousity won over the cat lol, leading to a long convo between the two where Leona would willingly listen to her "sob-story" and her advice. They would keep having these therapy talks almost every day after Bella's Dragon Tales, and slowly the two would grow more comfortable with each other, Leona even forcing her to nap with him lol. I think he would eventually tolerate Bella's boys (Toothless, Grim, Stitch) purely just so he can spend more time with Bella at Ramshackle since it's quieter there. Eventually she would show him her favourite spot to nap where NO ONE can disturb them... Under Toothless's wings lol. They would have quite an intimate relationship, I feel like they're both very touch-starved and while it would take a bit to reach that level of trust, the two are almost always napping cuddling together. Leona would bring that sense of peace or ease that Bella's been missing and help her just take a break from the stresses of NRC while Bella would be the one to inspire Leona to finally start looking for his own path away from the throne and his family's judgement, similar to what she had done when she left Berk. Once again, a couple who don't like labels however, after Book 4 Leona would finally accept that he really cares about her and would ask her to be his girlfriend after rushing with Adeuce to try and rescue her. He would continue to call her Herbivore until he hears she wants to try and bring out her "inner dragon" and encourages her to embrace her more "wild" tendencies (however, once he sees her eat a raw fish, Leona might tell her to dial it back lol.) After that'd he'd recognize her as a Carnivore like himself. I also had an idea that if Bella was given a chance to go back home to New Berk (whether modern day or past), Leona would go with her to pretty much escape and make a new name for himself, whether to rule with her as Chiefs of New Berk in modern day or to continue travelling and living amongst dragons as Kings. Hard to say but I do know that either Leona would take the chance at a new life with the Vikings or Bella would stay in Twisted Wonderland as Leona's partner to help encourage developments in the rundown parts of Sunset Savannah.

Azul x Bella (Aka From Starry Skies to Seas) I'll admit, I havent had too much thought on this one but it is kinda cute imo. It's pretty much an Enemies to Lovers trope, with Book 3 acting as the catalyst. During Book 3, Bella also offers up Toothless in the deal so that she can ask for something for herself, a new modern prosthetic leg that can handle this new world and last longer than her own one. Azul, seeing the marketability of a dragon mascot, would agree without realised he'd be the one actually looking after the night fury during those three days since dragons don't like eels lol XDD. After he realises she did that on purpose, knowing FULL well Toothless would send the Tweels flying (literally), Azul would definitely become more intrigued about the intelligent viking prefect who he before wrote off as a naïve, magicless, barbarian girl. After the overblot, he and Bella would have similar therapy talks like Leona and her, instead about being mistreated by others in their communities just for being born different and using their wits and strengths to prove themselves. Their relationship would develop a lot quicker, especially during Book 4 and the Stitch event. It'd start off as mutual contempt before turning into mutual respect of each other, eventually starting to go on "dates" set up by the tweels and the monster trio (Toothless, Stitch and Grim) lol. They're both inquisitive learners and teach each other different parts of their worlds, Bella showing Azul the wonders of the sky while he shows her beautiful places under the sea and learning more about each others homes. Just before Book 5, that's when Azul would ask Bella to be his romantic partner, which she would accept. They would have the most "normal" relationship of the three, your standard high school sweethearts. IMAGINE ALL THE BEACH DATES LIKE OMLLL-. By the end of the game, I honestly don't know what Bella would choose, whether to stay in modern Twst with Azul because she know how much he has his dreams for his businesses or if she would leave a bit heartbroken because he understands how much she loves her home and that the modern world hasn't been the kindest to her. It's a real stalemate between the two that I feel I would only figure out if I wrote the fic for them. Maybe the two would move to New Berk in modern times and Azul would start business there with the Tweels and Bella becomes a student and eventual teacher there surrounded by all the dragons and like minded vikings/people there?

[sincerely-sofie]

not a request but when twig said "after everything that has taken place, I think I'd like to choose a happy ending for myself" i literally had to hold back tears bC I AM IN PUBLIC AND OTHERWISE I WOULDA BROKEN DOWN ON THE SPOT (/pos)

also side note i literally randomly stumbled across your blog while scrolling thru the pmd tag awhile back and i have since become invested and I’m SO excited to read tpiag (shaking in my boots, even)

(Referencing this post)

I opened this ask and had to set down my phone and take a deep breath so I wouldn't break down on the spot, Anon. Thank you so much for enjoying my AU and letting me know that!!!

Twig coming from a place where she sees herself as a burden who has to be helpful at all times to justify her own existence--- and ending up at the point where she's determined to carve her happy ending out of her trauma and making herself a pleasant life from it because she knows she's worthy of joy--- is something that hits close to home for me. I'm glad it was able to touch your heart as well :>

(Also, I'm not sure if you have the link to the first few chapters of TPiaG when the post kinda got buried, so here it is if you want it!)

[0perfectimperfections0]

Please continue on the let me go series.

Let Me Go: Part 4

It was around midnight when Ox peeked into the bedroom. Lou and Mandy must have been talking for a while-- ah, they were sleeping. The bunny smiled and quietly walked up to the bed. Lou's hair was splayed out across Mandy's shoulder, head pressed underneath her chin. The female had an arm wrapped securely around his waist, the other hand gently cupped around his arm that was draped over her. It looked as if the talk had gone well.

Ox tentatively brushed a paw over Lou's hand. There was a red hue on Lou's nose from what looked to be from crying.

"Hey, Ox," Mandy whispered. He thought she had been asleep. Mandy held her glasses out to him. "Can you set these on the bedside table?" The bunny nodded, gently folding them.

"Did you wanna move him a bit?" Ox nodded toward Lou. He was practically on top of her.

Mandy moved her head to the side so her jaw wouldn't hit the top of Lou's head when she spoke. Lou must have shifted closer to her in the midst of his sleep. His leg was draped over hers as well, foot buried under her knee. "He's okay," she spoke softly. "As light as he is, it's like having a pillow on top of me."

"How'd the talk go?" Ox scrambled up onto the bed and tentatively stepped over her legs to be on Lou's side.

"It...could have gone better." She found solace in knowing Lou had managed to fall asleep after everything that day. Mandy watched Ox sit behind Lou's back and lay his torso over the blond. Green ears flopped over Lou's shoulder blades. "Ox?" He hummed in acknowledgment. "What happened between you and Lou?"

There was a wry laugh from the bunny. "Well, that's a loaded question."

"Sorry, it's just...when I tried to make a promise with Lou earlier, he seemed...on edge. It's like he doesn't trust anyone." Ox winced from where he lay. "Not saying I think it's because of you but--"

"No...it is 'cause of me." Ox rubbed a paw over his face. "I...I just couldn't shake the want to go to the Big World. We had this master plan of me bein' able to stay if I could prove t' the factory I was good enough. I'd be able to stay with Lou 'cause...well cause he needed me and I needed him. A-And...when I managed to pass the Gauntlet...the portal had opened. It was right there. There was just...there was somethin' in me beggin' to leave and go be with my kid. I can't explain it. I made it probably a foot from the portal 'for it timed out and closed again. A-And when I turned around...I realized I'd walked up to it...like I was gonna leave."

Ox rubbed circles onto Lou's back. "When I turned around...Lou was there. He looked...gosh knows, in the months I'd been there I ain't never seen 'im look so devastated. Like his whole world had just fallen apart all around 'im. I tried to apologize and I made excuses for myself, but somethin' in 'im just...snapped. It was like a light switch had been flipped in 'im."

"And he led you to the pipes?" Mandy guessed.

There was a shaky inhale from Ox. "I didn't even realize it till I got far enough down it. Lou told me there was a better place I could stay. I'd been livin' with him durin' my trainin'...but after the Gauntlet he wanted nothin' t' do with me. I don't blame 'im, though. I had promised him I'd stay with him and never leave...and I broke that."

So, that was the story behind their fallen bond. It seemed Lou did have some deep-rooted trust issues connected to him and Ox.

Mandy really didn't know what to say. From where Ox lay, he felt Lou's breathing switch. He was awake. How long, Ox had no idea. Maybe long enough. Lou still kept his eyes closed in the hopes of playing it off. Mandy certainly didn't notice anything off.

Ox took the opportunity to say what he'd wanted to for so many years. A paw reached over to wrap around Lou's stomach and hold the blond impossibly closer. "I still hate myself for what I did to 'im. I can't even bring myself t' blame 'im for the recycle. I woulda done the same thing in his position. I wanted t' teach 'im so many things. I taught him what laughin' was and sadness. Anger. But...I never wanted to teach him about heartbreak or betrayal."

Something wet seeped into Mandy's shirt and that's when she looked down to see Lou's face scrunched up, flushed, and crying silently. One of his hands grasped the fabric of her shirt tightly and it was then she realized what Ox was doing.

"I wanna apologize to 'im, but I know nothin' I say could fix what happened. If I could go back in time I'd never even spare a glance to that portal. No matter how much I wanted to...thinkin' about it now, my kid is gonna grow up and forget about me one day--" Ox's voice shook and he pressed his face against Lou's back to try and not cry "--but every moment I spent with Lou was treasured. I could see it in his eyes. The second class was over he was practically bouncing to go do somethin' with me. He wanted t' show me around or read or listen to music. It didn't matter what we did, he enjoyed every moment I spent with him." Ox squeezed his eye shut as the tears seeped into Lou's nightshirt. "He's the best kid I could've ever had...and I tossed that away for a kid I'd never even met."

That did it. Lou broke down in sobs, face pressing against Mandy's torso to try and muffle them. Ox held Lou tightly around his stomach. There was nothing else filling the room except Lou's cries. "I-I'm sorry," Lou's voice was strained through the cries. He could barely whimper out his words. "I-I know...yo-you wanted to leave...," Lou coughed out a sob. Mandy moved to run her hand through his hair. "A-And it's n-not fair to k-keep you here...bu-but I just wa-nted someone to stay a-and--"

"It's alright, Lou--" Ox started.

"No, it's not!" Lou pushed himself to raise his torso off the bed. "B-Because I'm gonna keep doing this!" He looked at Mandy desperately with reddened eyes. "Th-That's why you have to just...forget about that whole promise! J-Just forget about me a-and pretend this never happened! Because I know you have a kid...a-and I know it's not fair to keep you here. But I...I-I get...I get scared th-that you'll leave and never come back! I'm scared of being alone a-and I don't want to snap the moment you leave to be happy with your kid!" He squeezed his eyes shut, face contorting in pain. "It's frustrating...to...t-to know that it's wrong to trap someone else here...or to b-basically gaslight them into staying...b-but it's terrifying to think of being alone...a-and I don't know what to do." He broke down again, bangs falling over his eyes and his tears dripping down onto the covers.

And this was what she was trying to get to. This was that layer deep down she was trying to reach in him. As heartwrenching as it was to see him break down and be frustrated at the same time, this was the only way to start helping him.

She took him by the chin as he tried holding back his cries, eyes meeting hers. "I'm not taking back my promise."

"Mandy--" Lou choked out.

"I'm not. You can forget about me even considering it as an option because I'm not taking it back. Yes, I'll leave for a bit to go with my kid, but I'll always come back. Do you really think there's anything more for me in the Big World? I'm only there to make my kid happy. I'm there to be played with and at the end of the day, I'm nothing more than another doll on the floor waiting for her to wake up again. But I serve more purposes here, Lou. I'm more than just a doll when I'm here. I can be alive."

She sat up cross-legged and cupped his face with both hands. "We're gonna fix this fear of yours, okay? Because Ox will always come back. I'll always come back. Everyone will always come back. And we're gonna make sure that you understand that there's nothing to be afraid of. Not anymore. That portal doesn't close anymore, okay?"

"I ain't leavin' you behind anymore," Ox put a hand on Lou's leg. He spread his arms out a bit to ask for a hug. Lou breathed through the last of his cries as he held Ox close. It didn't take long after that for Lou to get worn down from exhaustion. Ox eased the both of them down on the bed, still holding each other. Mandy laid down beside Lou and pulled the blanket over the three of them. She adjusted herself a little higher up the bed so that Lou's head pressed against her chest and she could rake her fingers through his hair. It calmed him down further and soon enough he fell back asleep with a tight hold on Ox, still.

[cellarfulofnose]

don't think twice, it's all right

@smallsnzplz prompt #3. Sooner or later, one of us must know...

"No, hey, listen, I can beat that, hang on."

John didn't realize he'd tuned out until Bob lightly shook his shoulder. He tried to focus, but they were in a thick haze. Smoke and drink and possibly a pill or two; John couldn't remember which kind or how many. Once they had sunk to the kitchen floor, communing with the tile, someone brought up sex, and whether they were getting any. There was a brief gripe over their current dry spell, but they quickly began trading war stories. Back in America, there was this girl...Back in Hamburg, there were these two birds... It didn't make John's head any less fuzzy, being randy as a bull as well as stoned, but he kept upping the ante. For each of Bob's escapades, he had one to top it. Some, even, were true.

But now the ball was in Bob's court again. "John. You listening?"

John kneaded at his eyes with a rumbling hum. "I'm still here, Bobby," he said somewhat reticently.

"Oh, there was this one chick, man." Without looking, John could hear the grin in Bob's voice. "This girl...hey, she woulda loved you, too."

John turned with a smile--perhaps this was worth a look. "Well, she's only human."

"Yeah, she's real keen on us 'Caesar of Rome' types," Bob explained, tracing a line down the bridge of his nose.

John scoffed. "Long noses?" He almost hesitated to ask. God knew he'd heard enough of that from Ringo over the years: these girls are going to kill me, John, this one actually wanted to sit on my--

"Yeah, but I mean, aquiline, you know?" Bob gestured again, as if to convey the shape of an eagle's beak, and chuckled. "I ought to thank you, really, you broke me in easy."

"Thank me?"

"Yeah, she wanted me to..." Bob giggled, but he gathered himself up long enough to get out, "She got off on makin' me sneeze."

"Hmm." John answered without really hearing. But in a matter of seconds, the words sank in, and a lightning stab of excitement snapped him back to the present moment. He shook his head, half sobered up, blinking as if to clear his vision. "She what?"

Still fighting a fit of giggles, Bob nodded. "She's got a whole thing for it. Gets her goin'. I thought it was about the funniest thing, because she brought up all that shit you showed me--with the tissue?" He twisted his hand beside his nose. "Remember? And the cotton swab."

John swallowed. Fucking small world, this. "Rings a bell."

"Yeah, well, she got me to sneeze that way. And she was good at it, too, I mean, she wouldn't let up, just unbelievable. But I'd already had some practice with you, so it wasn't so bad," Bob finished, laughing lightly, happily oblivious to the weight of what he'd just said.

John, despite himself, was finding it difficult to speak. If Paul were here...Now his thoughts were getting away from him. "But it didn't put you off?" he asked, before they could wander off for good.

"Put me off?" Bob sounded bewildered. "What do you mean, put me off? I loved it. And it got her so hot, John..." His voice changed, got lower and slower, as he leaned in, one hand on John's arm. Dead serious. "I'd sneeze and she'd just get this look, like she was gonna go all to pieces, you wouldn't even believe it..."

"A good fuck, then?" John kept talking, joking to quiet his head, but it was no use. His runaway thoughts, without his permission, had led him to his most reprehensible idea yet. He pushed it away. It wasn't worth spending time on, nor the trouble that was sure to come with it.

"Jesus." Bob collapsed his face into his hands and rocked to the side, letting his weight rest on John for a moment. "Best lay I've ever had. She was wild. I made her come just from touchin' her, just barely nothin'. And by the time I really fucked her--" he whistled, "she woulda done anything, man. I never saw a chick get like that before."

Speak for yourself, John didn't say. What came out instead, bypassing his brain by way of his cock, was: "Anything."

"Felt good, too. Shit." Bob lifted his head from his hands. He continued as if he hadn't heard John, his face split in a dopey grin, eyes half shut, miles deep in a daydream. "You ever sneeze right as you're just about to get off? Whew. Feels like dying and being born."

"Can't say I've had the pleasure," John lied. "So you'd..." Something pulled at his clothes, and he started, but it was only Bob, playing absent-mindedly with the lapels of John's jacket, running his long fingernails over the corduroy furrows. John responded almost automatically with a gentle hand on Bob's wrist, joining him in play. "You'd do it again, then?"

Bob shook his head. "God. Would I. Given half the chance. Just...somethin' different about it, I don't know." He chuckled. "Don't exactly see the chicks linin' up to--"

"I know someone who would." It was out before John could tell himself not to, and straight away his mouth went dry. There was no way he could tell Bob. Yet the thrill that leapt in his chest to hear himself even hint at the truth was too much. He couldn't back out. It was too late.

"Oh, you do, huh?" Bob was Cheshire-cat grinning. "Did you keep her number?"

"Hardly needed to, did I? When I could just ask Paul." Shit. That was a step too far, wasn't it? John prayed Bob wouldn't make the leap. Surely there was another way that could be construed. Maybe he'd think he meant--

"Ask...ask Paul?" At first, Bob couldn't make sense of it. "What, like...Oh, don't tell me."

John's heart dropped heavily into his stomach, but Bob said, "Not Paul's girl, too? The redhead? Jesus Christ, man, she must be about the luckiest chick on the planet. Can you imagine that? All she's gotta do is pet a cat and he's sneezing for a good...a good hour, something like that. Oh, I bet you he gets her so worked up. Shit, I'd love to see that."

John bit his lip to avoid breaking out in bewildered, relieved laughter. Bob was often right on the mark, but when he missed it...boy, did he. "It's not Jane. I meant..." John stalled. The words wouldn't come. He'd really painted himself into a corner, hadn't he? He didn't see any other way out.

Bob was still messing with his jacket, scratching and tracing thoughtlessly. John swallowed. "Only I, I wouldn't mind, you know."

For a crushing moment, Bob was quiet. Then he scoffed. "You don't mean that."

"I swear."

"You just--you've got this notion that I'm gonna put you on to a good thing." As he spoke, Bob jabbed an accusing finger into John's chest, but without any bite behind it. "That's all this is. You've got...misplaced notions. Huh, John?" He was smiling, not looking scornful. Amused, maybe; flattered, even.

"Well." John wet his lips. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Yeah, well. Why don't you simplify it for me?"

John made his face placid. He felt keenly aware of where their hands were still touching. "You know Paul and I are. Involved."

"In love?"

"I said, 'involved'."

"Oh." Bob smirked. "Yeah, I figured."

"Right." It was deeply unfair how caught John felt, more so than at the prospect of outing Paul's unusual interest. Somehow, though, he soldiered on. "But our Paul, he's...well, he's a bit mad for you, really." Earlier, he'd been holding Bob's wrist, lightly saying hello as Bob explored his jacket. Now, though, he pressed his palm flat over Bob's, cupping him to his chest, right over his heart. Even through Bob's hand, John could feel how it raced.

If Bob wanted to say something just then, it couldn't escape his lips, tightly pursed to squash a smile. John gave Bob's hand a squeeze, stroked it with his thumb, and continued. "You should hear the way he goes on about you. Makes me wonder."

Bob sighed, quick and tight like a breathless laugh. "Don't worry, Johnny, I'm not about to run off with him." He sounded cavalier, but he was looking down, doing nothing to hide his smile, unconsciously palming John's chest.

"Oh, I'm a jealous man, but I'm not unreasonable. I see what he sees in you." John began to push, just barely, guiding Bob's hand down at a glacier's pace. "I've half a mind to give him what he wants--long as I'm there to see it, of course."

"John, man, your heart's goin'..." Bob's hand had only just cleared John's ribs when he pulled back. But instead of separating, Bob sidled up to John and pressed the side of his head against John's chest, with his ear over his heart.

John's skin warmed all over, but he felt as though he might shiver. He clutched Bob's head and took a deep breath. "That's an open invitation." He could hear his heart thudding, now, too. He could only imagine what Bob must have heard.

As if on cue, Bob angled his head to listen better. "Wow. You're not kiddin', are you? You really want..." He trailed off.

"Yeah. Yes." John nodded, helpless not to even though Bob couldn't see. "But...there's a catch--"

"Hey." Bob beckoned lazily with one hand. "Hey, John. C'mere a minute."

John looked down as Bob gathered a fistful of his shirt and pulled slowly, dragging him down to eye level. His eyes were the color of a robin's egg.

Bob pulled once more, and the breath kicked out of John's chest. He shut his eyes just as their lips joined in a smoky kiss.

---

"Dylan wants me to watch you two fuck."

John had spent the previous night at Bob's place. They didn't get up to anything, too tired even to neck for more than a few minutes before they dragged themselves onto the carpet to sleep. He'd slipped out in the morning to meet Paul, leaving Bob still curled up against an ottoman. He and Paul had passed a normal day together, getting stoned, fiddling with writing, not committing anything to tape. All the while, John was ruminating over how to break the good news to Paul (and it was good news, he kept reminding himself, nothing less than one of Paul's fantasies come to life).

Yet for some reason, he just couldn't say it. At first he reasoned that he'd better get Paul in a good mood before dropping a bombshell of this caliber, but as the day went by, he realized he was stalling. Nervous. For what? It didn't make sense. Paul should be the nervous one--or, really, if anyone was to be nervous it should be Dylan, but of course he'd been cool as glass when John surrendered the details of his idea. Finally, John decided just to open with the most shocking part. Door-in-the-face. Get it out of the way.

Paul stared. He blinked so many times John was worried he'd have to repeat himself, but then he asked, "When?"

John had to take a moment to recover from that one. At least Bob had the decency to give the appearance of humility, coyly insisting that there must be some mistake, he couldn't possibly want him. No such urge existed in Paul. And he might have pretended to hand-wring over fidelity, tearfully swear he wanted John and only John forever, but that was a pipe dream, too. Oh, John could have pitched a fit, and on another day he might've done, but today, he felt the need to get to the point. He told Paul about the girl, her exotic tastes. How eager Bob was to re-create the experience, but for want of a willing participant.

"He wants to do it with you," John finished.

Paul became very quiet. After a long pause, he said in a clipped tone that John hadn't answered his question. John was a little taken aback. He floated the potential date he and Bob had talked about, but that seemed to have been the wrong thing to say. Paul snapped that John had betrayed his trust (again, he kept saying, again), that he had no right to be telling Dylan his most intimate secrets. He got quieter and quieter until John was sure he was ready to cry.

"I told him it was my kink," John blurted, after trying to interrupt several times. "Not yours."

Paul looked exhausted, and utterly lost. "What?"

"Look. No secrets. All right?" John spread his hands out, trying not to sound like he was crying wolf. "I'm not keeping anything from you."

He told Paul everything.

"With Paul, he's...he's very neat, see. Hates mess."

"Well, then he's gonna hate this, man. That'd be tantamount to torture, havin' somebody sneeze all over you."

"Aye, there's the fucking rub, innit? I love seeing him like that. When he's squirming like mad, but he grits his teeth and he does it just 'cause I asked him to. And you know he loves it. Pushin' his limits for me, showing me how good he can be. Can't get enough of it. He's dead easy, is Paul."

"Jesus Christ, what a...what a cheap date, huh? God, you two are somethin'."

John left out the cheap date part, but once he'd finished the rest of the story, Paul's eyes had gone big and round. John shrugged: Well?

Paul scratched his face. "So I've got to pretend to be..."

"Disgusted," John finished for Paul when he took too long searching for the right word.

Paul raised his eyebrows, somewhat defiantly. "Like any normal person would be."

If that was a line, John thought it best not to bite. He kept his tone and expression even. "Think you can do that?"

Paul shifted, crossed and uncrossed his legs. "Yeah. 'Course," he said with his thumbnail in his mouth. He'd gone from icy to twitchy, as if it had just broken through that this was actually going to happen and his nerves were already settling in. John wasn't worried. It was a performance, and if Paul was built to do anything it was perform.

Still... "You sure?"

"Yeah." Paul frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

John shook his head, his face tactless; I don't know, you tell me. "Well, it's one thing to try and play it cool when you're ten feet apart in his flat. With your clothes on."

"I was fine," Paul quickly said.

"And when he's on the ground with your cock in his mouth?" John fired back. "You'll be fine, will you? When he sneezes so hard he drives his head down and chokes on you? And then again when your cock tickles the roof of his mouth, you'll be fine then?"

For a brief moment, Paul looked ready to burst into flames. Nostrils flared, eyes shining. But he slammed his lips shut, wrinkled his nose and frowned, even pulled his head back a bit. "That's bloody disgusting," he spat, the same cant in his eyebrows and quirk on his lips that he got whenever he was asked to read lines for a camera.

John took a deep breath. "We'll work on it."

---

Bob arrived at Cavendish straight from a show. John had to admit, he'd looked better.

It was dark outside when he rang the doorbell, looking like the wind had blown him onto the doorstep, swimming in an angular woolen suit, the bags under his eyes heavy and stark. He said nothing, but gave a weak smile when John opened the door.

"Sorry, we've no room at the inn," John said brusquely, and that got Bob smiling enough for John to throw an arm round him and herd him inside.

When they entered the front room, Paul stubbed out his cigarette--he'd practically burned through a carton waiting for Bob to arrive. "All right, Bob?" he called brightly.

"Hey, Paul," Bob rasped. His voice was gravelly, more so than usual. It stung John's throat to hear, but only because he knew the feeling so well, the soreness of having screamed yourself hoarse onstage. At least when John did it, he only had to match half of Paul's volume. Bob's voice must have been double-wrecked, then, from being the only fucker singing at any given time.

Paul heard it too; John could see it on his face, which didn't bode well for the rest of the evening. But Paul deliberately avoided eye contact with John and coolly asked, "How was the show?"

"Terrible, oh, it was terrible." Bob dropped like a bag of rocks onto the sofa next to Paul, tiredly rubbing his face with one hand.

John sat in the armchair, kitty-corner to Paul and Bob. "They give you trouble?"

"They wouldn't stop booing me, man. I couldn't hear the band."

"Philistines," John sneered, just as Paul said, "Oh, all Brits are rubes, you know, we wouldn't know a real act if it bit us." In response to that, John clacked his teeth together, snapping his jaws like a crocodile. Paul ignored him.

"Ah, it's all bullshit anyway, that audience stuff," Bob said dismissively. "But next time I'm gonna boo back."

John flipped the V and hissed, and that made both of them laugh. But when they caught their breath, a silence fell that was just a bit too strained for John's liking. Everyone seemed to be waiting. Bob rubbed his eyes.

God. It always had to be him, didn't it? "Paul."

Paul straightened, and John said, "Get the man a drink."

Paul was on his feet in an instant. He seemed to realize a moment later how eager he'd been, the puppylike enthusiasm in his obedience, because he turned and gave them a stiff bow before he left the room: See, it's all a joke.

"It's so hard to find good staff in London," John lamented once Paul had disappeared.

"No, I like him, he's good," Bob chuckled. "You keep him."

"You think so?"

At that moment, Paul came back in, laden with glasses of whiskey and wine. "Oh, I think so," Bob grinned, and with a funny twinge in his stomach, John realized his unique position in this little dance. Whatever Bob and Paul thought of each other after tonight reflected back on him. He was the ringmaster, the matchmaker.

John reached for wine, but decided on whiskey instead. Paul sat. They drank.

Bob did most of the talking. Not all of his shows, as it turned out, were disasters. Only the other night, he'd played for an audience who cheered and were silent at all the right times (though, he claimed, they were mostly French and didn't understand what he was singing, which was almost worse). Paul shared a few anecdotes about some of their wilder crowds. He didn't so much as stammer as he refilled everyone's glass and kept easy attention on Dylan. John found himself listening intently to stories he'd heard a hundred times, never mind been there for, and he began to suspect Bob was right. About keeping Paul around, that is.

At some point, John saw Bob's hand resting in Paul's upper thigh with no memory of seeing him put it there. His pulse spiked, adrenaline cutting through the foggy balm of the drinks. It was no absent-minded fidget, but a gentle, deliberate hold.

As if he felt John staring, Paul turned to meet his gaze. He studied John's eyes for a moment, then hooked his ankle behind John's, nestling their shins together.

John's head spun. There'd been something coiling in his chest earlier, some strange possessive urge that rankled to see Bob and Paul touching each other. That was gone now. He wanted them to get on exceptionally, blisteringly well with each other, and he didn't want to miss a moment of it.

Bob laughed while sipping wine and spluttered out a few drops of red. He was laughing too hard to recover, so Paul reached over and thumbed the spilled wine off Bob's chin. He popped his thumb in his mouth to clean it; waste not, want not. God only knew what possessed him to give a little hum of satisfaction after that, as indulgent as if the wine were honey.

It didn't go unnoticed. "Thanks," said Bob. "It's good, isn't it?"

Paul nodded, looking slightly guilty, little Jack Horner caught with his thumb in the pie. "It's good."

John thought he might sweat through his jacket if they sat here any longer. Then Bob said, "Hey, I've never been here before. Where's the bedroom?"

"Just--down..."

John sprang to his feet before Paul could finish giving directions. "This way," he panted, and the other two followed.

He swore he'd only counted one breath before they were piling into Paul's room. The jostled each other in the doorway, someone muttered "Sorry" as they nudged through the bottleneck, and then at once Bob was kissing John, as chapped and smoky as he'd been the first time. John tried to let himself melt into it, just for a second.

Bob tilted his mouth away to murmur "Oh, fuck," all soft and sweet, and John realized Paul had pressed into Bob from the back to kiss his neck. The sight and sound pushed every thought out of John's mind, and they continued like that for a while, John at Bob's lips and Paul at his pulse, until Paul stepped back with a rustle of fabric.

John opened his eyes. Paul had stripped to his shorts and was working on getting his socks off. He was so beautiful, dark-haired and open-mouthed, his chest splashed with pink from the wine and the kiss.

Bob started to palm John through his jeans, clumsy but sure. John gasped. "Wait, it--" he took half a step back, separating them. "It's you and him now." With a hand on Bob's shoulder, he turned him to face Paul. It was what they had agreed. He was just here to watch.

And to direct. "Sit down," John said softly, and Paul perched on the edge of the bed.

Geneva. That was the word that would end the whole session, no questions asked, if spoken. John tried to keep it at the front of his mind, but it was getting harder to hold on to rational thought. Bob, too, seemed to lose some of his faculties at the sight of Paul. For all John knew, he could've been star-struck, unwilling to believe this was the same man he'd met just under a year ago. "Go on," he said with a hand at Bob's back.

Bob shambled forward, and by the way Paul bit his lip and flushed, John could guess Bob sported a sheepish grin. John smiled, safely unseen. He dragged a chair from the dresser to the middle of the room and sat.

Paul sighed heavily through his nose when Bob planted his hands on the bed and leaned down to kiss him. John stirred--not jealousy, not envy, but a fierce desire to move in as close to them as he could, to watch every fleeting touch transpire between them. He almost sighed with relief when Bob lowered to his knees, giving John an unobstructed view of Paul's face. Paul looked rumpled, already out of breath, his lips ruby from a good thorough kiss. His eyes darted down, but Bob was already standing again for some reason, as if he'd changed his mind.

John watched as Bob strode to the head of the bed. He was at a total loss until Bob reached over to the nightstand and ripped a tissue from the box.

"Can you get me started, John?" Bob asked, offering the sheet with a bashful smile. "I'm a little out of practice."

John blanched. Somehow amidst the wining and dining, he'd forgotten the hinge, the crux of this whole event. Judging by Paul's deer-in-the-headlights look, he had too, for a moment.

...He'd let his guard down. Perfect. John held out his hand, grinning ear to ear. "My pleasure."

As John twisted one corner into a wicked point, Bob bent down and began another story. "You know, I had to sneeze tonight, on stage. I dunno if it's the lights, or what, but..." he laughed. "I couldn't get my harmonica off. It was terrible. They were jeerin' me so bad. Someone, some--kgh--!" Bob twitched, sputtering out a cough, as John teased the paper into his nostril and gave a lazy swirl.

"You were saying?" John prompted, circling as slowly as he thought he could get away with, the other hand cradling Bob's chin. He stole a glance at Paul, who was running his fingertips over his lips. John raised his eyebrows once, suggestively, and looked back down.

Bob coughed. His expression was pinched, his lashes starting to darken with tears. "Someone's--Jesus--I hear someone going, 'Thahhh's...huh-! ohh...hh-...hhh--!" Bob's mouth fell open, trying to drink little sips of air, and John would've been forgiven for thinking he was on the edge of pleasure. He looked so blissed-out, yet so wanting; it was very Zen, John thought, to be so visibly caught at the crossroads of desire and suffering. He'd have to share that one with...ah, no, he couldn't tell George that.

Just then, Bob sighed thickly, having slipped the clutches of a sneeze. He sniffled a few times, as if to get his bearings, before he spoke. "They're goin', 'That's the best sound that's come outta you tonight!'" He laughed lightly, which made him sniffle again, and shot John a glare. "Hey, come on, quit teasin' me, John. I can't stomach it."

Without a word, John twisted his wrist and swirled, letting Bob feel the tissue's point properly this time.

Bob cried out and started coughing again. "Mother--fucker--that t-tickles," he managed.

John's eyes flicked up at a sudden movement--Paul was taking his hand out of his waistband. His cheeks were bright red. When he realized he was being observed, he shut his mouth and his face smoothed over a little.

John would've stared at him for an hour or two longer, but Bob gave a particularly vocal gasp. "Why don't you sneeze, then?" John asked, spurred on by an instinct he couldn't name.

Bob nodded, causing him to cringe and start gasping again. "I am...ahhh- hhh'm gonna--! ...htCch'uh!" The first sneeze had no kick to it; it was auxiliary, just to break the levee. Immediately, his lungs filled again, and he shivered out two proper sneezes. "hhhzzsch'ue! --hhih'SsChh!"

Despite himself, John jumped the tiniest bit--just from the sudden shock of spray hitting his hand, of course. He snuck a look across the room. Paul appeared--to his credit--almost bored. He blinked and rolled his eyes heavenward, his lips twisted as his tongue worked the inside of his cheek. One hand tapped incessantly on his knee. John knew the act well. He wasn't feigning disinterest; he was annoyed with himself, and only a few nudges away from biting down on something. Something about that, to John, didn't scream just fine.

"Bless you," John said with an affectionate tap under Bob's chin.

Bob swallowed and groaned, blinking away gauzy tears. "Ugh. Thank you."

John's gaze lingered a moment longer before he raised his voice to address Paul. "What, were you brought up in a barn, McCartney?"

Paul froze, petrified and utterly clueless, so John nodded down at Bob. A grudging understanding washed over Paul. "Bless--" His voice failed. He tried again. "Bless you, Bobby."

"Oh." Bob glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "Thanks."

"There, now, that's better. I shouldn't have to remind you. We have a guest, after all." John didn't smile. He didn't need to. Paul's jaw was already tensing, like he was chewing on saying something. "Got to keep up appearances," John added, "haven't we?"

Paul's head tilted slightly, and his eyes might've narrowed, John couldn't swear from here. "Yes," he said flatly. "We have."

This time, John did smile. "Go on," he said to Bob, raising his chin toward Paul. "Till he gets it down."

"Happy to." Bob accepted the tissue from John and mopped at his nose with the non-twisted end. "I think I got it from here. Just had to...give me a little push." He grinned back at John as he sank to the floor before Paul's feet. Paul was breathing faster than usual, and blinking often, but otherwise he was impressively pacific. The only clue as to his true feelings was the rose-petal flush that dappled his chest. To John's eye, he wasn't even visibly hard. He'd tucked his thighs together just so, a skill learned out of necessity, prominent in the public eye as they were. But between those shapely legs, John knew, hid a throbber for the history books, and they'd only just begun.

Without much ceremony, Bob stuck the tissue's point up his nose. As if to prove to John that he could keep his cool, Paul worked a hand into Bob's curls, easing his head just slightly closer. He didn't look at John.

Bob made a sound of surprise. "Shit. Sorry," he added with a faint laugh. "I just. Snff. I never saw a better pair of legs on a chhick...yyyshh'ew!"

The sneeze seemed to catch them all by surprise. John blurted, "Bloody hell," and despite tensing conspicuously, Paul managed to offer a curt, "Bless you."

"God." Bob blew his nose lightly, but for some reason, he didn't elect to tear a fresh tissue. "Came up on me quicker than I thought. I guess I am pretty good at this. Hey, John?" he chuckled, twisting a new corner into a point.

John fought a smile. "Y'know how you get to Carnegie Hall, don't you?"

Paul's lips pressed thin. His shoulders gave a small jolt--he was swallowing a laugh. Victory burned John's cheeks.

"Man, ain't that the truth. Never thought I'd get the hang of this," said Bob, and stuck the tissue in his nose again. Right away, his breath came slow and heavy. "C'mon--let me..." he panted, easing Paul's knees apart with his free hand.

Paul's mouth dropped open, and he quickly pressed his palm over it, looking in need of a full-body shiver when Bob's hand slid up his thigh. There was no way to hide how shamefully hard he was now.

John swallowed--twice--and thought, fuck it. He rose from his chair and sat next to Paul on the bed, unfastening his belt as he went. All the acknowledgement he got was a brief moment of eye contact and a helpless little head-shake from Paul: Jesus fucking Christ, John.

Bob was too busy tempting a sneeze, and admiring Paul's legs, to notice. (His eyes were only half open, anyway.) "Did...did...did you get these--hhh'in-insured?" he asked haltingly, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"Aye, pretty fucking penny, too," John muttered. He didn't care if anyone but Paul heard him. Biting his lip to avoid gasping obscenely, he unzipped and wet the head of his cock with the dew pearling at the tip.

The memory of last time still fresh in his mind, Bob seemed to be over-cautiously slow at what he was doing, to the point that it didn't seem to be working. "Fuckin'--shit," he spat between ragged gasps. He tilted his head as if that would get him any closer, as if he could reach the tissue further in.

John's thumb slicked over the end of his cock again, and he nearly bit his tongue. "Faster," he hissed.

Bob quickened his pace and winced, hard. He didn't even have time to swear before he sucked in a stuttering breath and sneezed down at Paul's lap. Paul covered his mouth as Bob croaked something inaudible, gasped, and sneezed again, painting the tops of Paul's thighs.

"Holy Mary." John was so focused on stroking slowly and not fucking into his fist, he didn't notice Paul had stayed silent.

Paul's hand fell from his mouth. His eyes met John's by mistake and went from half-lidded to wide open. He sighed, as if out of breath, and choked out "Blessyou."

"Can't fucking count?" said John, a bit harsher than he needed to.

Paul glared. "Bless you," he added through gritted teeth.

Bob's breath caught once more, and they both flinched, but he let out a long, defeated exhale and sniffled miserably. "This thing's kaput, man," he said, casting aside the tissue with disdain. He leaned over to snatch another one, giving John just enough time to share a look with Paul. Paul looked strung out, his hair somehow out of place. When his eyes came into focus, his brow creased and he shook his head once, barely noticeable. Mouthed, 'M fine.

John rather hoped he would say that. "Bobby."

"Huh," Bob replied after a moment, his voice deadened by congestion. He slid back into place between Paul's knees and turned blearily to John.

"Need to blow your nose?"

"Yeah," Bob sighed, a hint of a laugh in it. "Good guess." He tented the tissue over his nose and began to breathe in.

"Stop--wait," John said.

Bob frowned curiously over the edge of the sheet.

John cleared his throat. His words tumbled out with a slight waver. "That's crap. Don't use that. Too rough, you'll rub the skin all raw. Got something softer for you. Haven't we, Paul? For our guest."

Paul looked at him fit to kill.

"Take your pretty knickers off," said John.

Something went through Paul's face, a twinge of nondescript emotion, a slight tremble in his jaw. But he only hesitated a moment before lifting his hips to slide his shorts down and off his ankle. Wet? They were soaked to partial sheerness in the front, bless him. Best of all, he needed no direction to hand them over to Bob, who buried his nose in them right away.

"Thank you," he lowed, muffled. "Oh, Jesus, these are soft."

"My best pair, so." Paul must have felt the sudden and wonderful need to act. He'd managed to pull an expression of mild discomfort--John thought it looked more like confusion than disgust, but Christ, what a show. "You know. Be care--" His monologue cut off when Bob blew his nose mightily into the cloth. Paul colored deeply and finished, "Careful with 'em."

Bob nodded but gave no other indication that he'd heard. He exhaled again with even more force, then stopped--inhaled--and convulsed with a wretched sneeze. Paul looked as if he might pass out. He dragged both hands down his face and huffed a sigh.

"Mother a' God," Bob groaned, before giving a final sinus-clearing blow. "Somethin' in the air in here, shit." He was smiling dazedly when he emerged, and God, if John thought he looked awful before...

"Wish I could take credit," John breathed. When he saw Paul roll his eyes, something occurred to him--Paul hadn't said 'bless you'. That wouldn't do at all.

"Oh, no, you're--you've done more than enough, John," Bob laughed. "Hang on, I gotta get..." He dropped the shorts and went for another tissue.

John leaned close to Paul. "Put them back on."

Paul huffed in disbelief, revulsion--and something else--on his face. "You're touched."

John tutted. "Mustn't forget our manners. And not in front of company."

At that moment, company returned to the floor between Paul's legs. With a firm edge, John said, "Put them back on."

Like a good host, Paul did. He couldn't stop himself from shuddering a bit (it must have been cold, John realized, never mind Paul's own hang-ups, and he cringed in sympathy).

Bob must have noticed. "Hey, it's all right, I took good care of them," he grinned. "I know what I'm doin'." He twisted a corner and resumed his work.

"No, I don't think you bloody well do," Paul said stiffly, and John would've smacked him if his dominant hand weren't so busy.

"Gonna take that lying down, Bob?" John asked, and to his great delight, Bob took the cue and stood.

"Some mouth on him." Then, "hhohgod," as he seemed to hit the right spot. Bob planted a hand on Paul's shoulder and one knee straight between his legs. A faint sound punched out of Paul at the contact, the light pressure on his severely neglected cock.

John's breath caught in his throat. "Too fucking--right," he growled, giving in to the temptation to stroke faster, never mind the filthy sound. "Only one thing for it."

"It hhhuh--hhurt...h-! hurtsSchHt!" Bob ducked into the curve of Paul's neck and shoulder to let out a ticklish sneeze and a short groan. Paul's spine arched, but he bit back his cry into a sound that could've passed for loathing.

"...Hurts me more than it hurts you, man. Jesus Christ." Bob sniffled. "It's getting to me."

"G'bless you, fuck," Paul wept--a plausible slip, as Bob had just pushed his knee against him at exactly the right angle. John didn't have the heart to scold him anyway. Couldn't be expected to mind his manners and his language all at once.

"Paul, baby, you're so good," Bob hummed, and Paul and John sighed together (close harmony, John thought). "You 'n' this, it...it feels so good, John..."

"Bobby," Paul breathed, curving into Bob's knee, and John's eyes snapped shut. He had to slow down.

Bob was quiet, a few soft breaths in and out. Then, high and fragile with want, "I gotta sneeze."

John's heart raced. He opened his eyes and snapped at Paul, "Don't want that, do you?"

Paul, unable to stop his hips twitching against Bob's leg, could only shake his head.

"Babe--" Bob coughed, "Baby, I can't s-stop it..."

John growled--or he meant to, but what came out was a whine. "Beg him not to, you dirty fuck."

"Please," Paul breathed. There were tears in his eyes.

"Please, what?"

A noise like a sob tumbled from Paul's lips. He clung to Bob's arm as if it were the only thing anchoring him to earth. "Please don't sneeze on me, Bobby, Jesus fucking--"

Bob shook his head, adamant that he couldn't avert the inevitable, but even so, John could hear him make little choked sounds, like he was trying to wrest control back. Desperate. Futile.

"Oh." John actually surprised himself with how quickly his climax came upon him. He was already about to crest the point of no return. "Holy Christ," he said softly, almost whispered, and Bob lost the fight.

"hhiH'kTCH'Shhuh!" Harsh as a bad cough, right in Paul's shoulder. All the more forceful for trying to hold it back.

"Bloody hell--bless ya--"

John bit his hand and came bone-shaking hard, just as Bob rattled off another vicious sneeze.

"Bless you." A voiceless sigh, all Paul could muster up.

Bob shuddered. "Sonofabitch," he said wetly, and sniffled to clear his voice. "That was big. That good for you, Johnny?" He still sounded three days into a cold, no different than before.

John sighed, half-laughed, shaking his head as he wiped his hand on his slacks. "Fuck off."

"Look at him, man. Snff." Bob dragged his knee lightly over Paul's crotch, provoking a strangled cry of pain and making him rut uselessly. "Hey, you're not using these, are you?"

Paul was beyond speech, fighting just to keep his eyes open and his body relatively still against Bob's lazy, rolling touch. But, with shaking hands, he reached for his waistband, and in a joint three-way effort, they got his shorts off again for Bob to use as a handkerchief.

John felt the blood start to fill him back in just looking at Paul. He was red all over, panting open-mouthed, a permanent furrow in his brow from the effort of trying not to give in. His cock was a mess, shiny with slick and darkened with blood.

"Come here," John prayed, and Paul whimpered softly as they pressed together for a kiss. The sound of Bob blowing his nose was just background static, white noise. John didn't notice it had stopped until Paul's head suddenly tipped back, his lips parting in a frantic moan.

John glanced down to see Bob's head in Paul's lap. His curls bobbed slowly as he sucked him off. "There's a good lad, Bob," John said in disbelief. "Fucking hell."

Paul moaned again, his eyes fluttering back. He was dangerously, cruelly close. John held tight to him and kissed him--not his lips, he wasn't going to close his mouth again until he came. John kissed his neck, his cheek, all he could reach. "That's it, love," he murmured, "we've got you. Nothing we wouldn't do for you. You get so gorgeous like this, God...so nice and good for us. Paul...Paul--"

Paul's body went rigid and he came at last, with a series of moans so high and desperate, so vulgar that John blushed. Below them, Bob raised his head, coughing and sniffling. His chin dripped as if he'd only caught about half, but he looked well pleased, even slightly proud.

"Well, you little devil," John said to Bob as Paul wilted onto his shoulder, "you satisfied?"

Bob sighed. "As good as. God." He tugged once at his trousers, shifting the fabric around his arousal, but he didn't seem hungry for it. Nothing like Paul. In fact, he had almost the contented glow of sex--though that could've been the wine. He wiped his mouth. "Just somethin' about a good sneeze, man. Quasi-...erotic. Orgasmic."

Paul made a soft noise of dismissal into John's sleeve, and John had to agree. "Nothing quite tops the real thing, though, does it?"

"No, sir," Bob chuckled.

Paul coughed very quietly, making John turn. "Y'okay, love?"

Paul pulled away to nod. He was rosy-faced, blinking away tears, biting down on a small smile. John had only just gotten used to it--the fact Paul got this way sometimes. Only after the most grueling sessions, when he was denied too long. The relief would be more than his body could handle, and he'd dissolve into tears. Of joy, he'd assured John time and again. Now, as before, the euphoria was plain to see, but he looked wrecked, fucked-out. He was shaking.

"Here." John patted the bed, and Paul lay down, wiping his eyes and snuffling softly.

With Paul taken care of, John gave Bob a deadly look and dragged him onto the bed by his collar. They kissed like they'd never quit, only now there was a little vengeance in it on John's part. Torture my bassist like that, will you. Bastard. He tossed him off quick and rough, taking no care to avoid soiling Bob's suit; hoping, actually, to leave a stain.

Bob didn't stop talking the entire time.

"I just can't get over, mmh, that--like that--oh. How much it turns you on...t' see him this way. And he's gettin' all red...pretty and--ohh. Mm...pretty 'n' pink. Babe. John. Just can't help it. I like it when you tell him, tell him what to do. And--ahhh--and me. Wanna do it for you too. Baby. That's...aah, Joh- John--!"

John smothered him with a kiss, worked him through his orgasm, stained both their suits. It was gentle, light, insubstantial. Waves swept over Bob softer and softer, until he was trembling above John, panting for breath, looking half asleep. He leaned down--John expected another kiss, but he only nuzzled their cheeks together, as if he hadn't the energy for more. With audible effort, Bob hauled himself into a prone position beside Paul. John heard a little peck and a pleased coo as Bob weakly kissed the crown of Paul's head.

It wasn't until he awoke minutes later that he realized he'd even lay down. Paul and Bob were still breathing heavily, and occasionally they'd snag as if to snore, but they didn't wake. Taking care not to move the mattress too much, John slunk off the bed and into the kitchen. His mouth was dry as a bone.

As he filled a glass with water, he felt an odd stir in his chest. Silly to even think about, really. It was the sight of Paul, wasn't it, getting all frustrated? That's what got John off. Bob, well...was Bob, and there was no diluting the attractiveness of that. But the rest of it--the sneezing bit, the whole garish display, that was for Paul's benefit, not John's. Lucky or not, he didn't rouse to that kind of thing. He didn't have the same kind of automatic reaction, anyway. His only consolation was the look of pure animal lust on Paul's face every time Bob--

Oh, shit. A fluttering rush filled John's stomach at the mere memory, the echo in his ear. His breath came short. His cheeks grew uncomfortably hot.

John took a deep, clearing breath and finished his glass of water. He could revisit that sometime (far, far in the future, preferably), when he'd had enough sleep. On weary legs, he made his way back to Paul's bed.

[s0phos-writes]

wizardess heart

perhaps unsurprisingly i was disappointed by this otome's story as well lmao same gripes about the MC, i don't like her personality so throw the whole MC away bc rn all she is a clumsy, kinda dumb, naive, happy-go-lucky, bubbly, spineless FOOL lmao these traits aren't SO BAD but they definitely aren't written well in this story

so a little more backstory with the MC's relationship to the school woulda been nice, i think she mentions offhandedly that she always wanted to go and she was finally accepted?? But like also she sucks at most magic so how did she get in?? Was it an application? or do they just watch out for young hopefuls idk

I THINK it would make more sense if she was orphaned young (bc canonically she lost her parents 2 years b4 the events of the game and like?? that seems like not a lot of time to be completely trauma free about both parents dying?? but i've never lost any parents so maybe its completely normal and i'm the asshole) and had an elderly woman figure help her out with her magic, but only taught her how to work with animals b4 she fell ill and later died :^(

ALSO MY MC WON'T BE A FUCKING PUSHOVER bc frankly i'm sick of it being such a common otome MC trait ok?? jeez

she has this wizard role model guy that she really admires but he's only been offhandedly mentioned like twice?? if he's supposed to be an important plot point then?? act like one maybe???

elias' route

tbh i only played this route so i can't speak on the stories for the other routes but this one really left something to be desired for me... so i wanna see if i can do better lmao

SO ELIAS i thiiiink he’s like the tsundere one? so he suffers from typical otome tsundere love-interest syndrome where he is JUST PLAIN MEAN to the MC but it's ok bc he's hot right? then he like likes you and then he's not mean anymore... AND MY BIGGEST GRIEVANCE with the game was they wouldn't let me stand up for myself when elias treated me poorly like!! IM JUST SO!! PISSED!!! EVERY option where i defended myself from what he said!!! WAS THE WRONG ANSWER!!! he would say smthg mean and i'd be like “that's mean” and the game would be like “he likes u, u bitch, show some respect” LIKE!!!! RLLY NOW !!!

so anyway my first change would be going more in-depth into elias' personality and why he is they way that he is and my solution? give that bitch anxiety! like fr fr i think they mention it in game but like i wanna go all in; i referenced a tweet i happened upon (ik very proper medical diagnosis lol) that sounded exactly like elias so i was like "oh work"

the second change would be to give the story a coherent plot? lmao bc i wrote almost everything down and i still didn't remember wtf happened or what the point of anything was and that a problem lol

[shitty-fallout-art]

1, 7, 15, 29

1. Whats an NPC from your favourite fallout game you woulda liked to have had as a companion?

-Captain Ironsides from fallout 4. Having robot companions is always fun, codsworth is my first and favorite of the bunch to pick from, but having the whole pirate motif as well sounds like it would be a lot of fun. Given his whole quest line I can easily see what kind of moral choices we would favor, as well as having cool perks that would be useful in gameplay. We also just haven't had a sentry bot companion yet and it sounds cool as hell.

7. Which fallout doctor MOST deserves to get their medical licence (that they probably dont have) revoked?

-Doc Crocker. But also that traveling doctor that goes to settlements, I forget his name. I think its sun?

15. What two colors would you redesign vault suits to be?

-I'm bad at color theory but my favorite colors are black and green so?? Probably wouldn't look good, I think the original blue would work well as a base color if it was muted a bit.

29. What is one thing in one fallout game you really wish you could do/see for the first time again?

-Honestly? I would love to play any of the games blind again, to just go in and not know what was gonna happen. It's hard to just go into something without doing research on it first and it does ruin the surprise, but I do remember watching my dad play fallout 4 when it first came out and seeing it for the first time was an experience i'd like to relive.