#when i try to switch from windowed back to full screen to try and get the menu to pop up there’s nothing there

[tricoufamily]

i don’t have the direct9 checkbox in my settings but changing to dxgi.dll has reshade seemingly not even installed

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 [gojo satoru]

synopsis: in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the son of the strongest.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader | song inspo: chemtrails over the country club, scott street | visuals: megumi’s jacket

warnings: angst-ish, canon-compliant violence (mostly caused by our pookie wookie megumi who doesn’t tolerate scumbag bullies), mentions of bullying, and possible (bc i’m delulu) character death. | a/n: i just want megumi to have one last moment with his dad please, gege, i’m on my knees here. also hehe, get the title? ya’ll get it? someone please shove that arctic-haired freak to the NORTH! 🥹

Nobara Kugisaki is the classic definition of an Instagram girlie with a passion for fashion.

Honestly, she could appropriately appraise clothes without a second glance, and she could differentiate big fashion brands just by the fabric and silhouette alone even without a brand logo.

It happened on a Monday afternoon while she and Yuji were having a quick coffee in the lounge. Yuji is currently playing one of his Nintendo Switch MMORPG games that he bought from the mall last Saturday while Nobara was scrolling through her phone, swiping left as she watches her mutuals’ Instagram stories. The trio is incomplete today since Megumi mentioned he’ll be running some errands with you and Satoru today.

After positively getting envious of Mei Mei’s supposed extravagant shopping trip in Ginza today, Kugisaki promptly mutes any stories from her for a full twenty four hours. Then, as she swipes left yet again, she nearly drops her phone on the ground which would pretty much set her off on a rampage because she just got its LCD screen fixed. But luckily, she holds onto it.

“Fushiguro has an Instagram account?!”

Yuji himself hits pause on the game he’s playing and leans over the table to see what Kugisaki is talking about. No way. Fushiguro? That sulky, couldn’t-be-bothered-to-care-but-I-actually-do-care embodiment of teenage angst having an Instagram handle? What would he even post on there?

Their questions are answered as Fushiguro’s feed pops up, and it’s filled with his pictures, but that’s not the issue. The two dunderheads didn’t seem to mind that in every photo, Megumi looked like a magazine cover boy, what caught their attention is the apparel he’s wearing.

“What the hell?! He’s wearing Arc’teryx?” Kugisaki couldn’t believe it. She zooms in on the candid shot of Megumi in what looks to be a ski resort and an audible gasp escapes her throat. No way. No frigging way. She does a quick image search and sure enough, she is redirected to Arc’teryx’s official website. See? Kugisaki never misses when it comes to fashion.

Yuji’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees the price tag. ���One thousand five hundred US dollars?!”

“And look at this! He’s literally tagged in Gojo and Y/N-sensei’s stories.”

Sure enough, the first they see is Satoru’s story which has a video of you picking out new clothes from the rack for Megumi to try on in the fitting room. You looked so cute and teeny tiny next to the teenager and Kugisaki giggles at the thought you walking around with two literal giants in the mall, one of them being your ward and the other, your arctic-haired husband of three years.

“There’s another one!” Itadori says excitedly. The next is a story you took, it’s a photo of Megumi and Gojo, their backs turned and their hands fully occupied by shopping bags, seemingly unaware of the camera. In the photo, they’re checking out new sneakers in Onitsuka Tiger’s storefront window. In a flash, Kugisaki switches off her phone, and immediately begins to head out the door. “Hey, where’re you going?”

Nobara knows that particular galleria, it should be in Tokyo Midtown. “Out, maybe I could borrow Gojo-sensei’s or Y/N-sensei’s credit card!”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come along?”

Gojo chuckles under his breath. It’s honestly amusing how you won’t normally ask that, given his newfound title as the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer of this generation. A skirmish with a grade two cursed spirit? Pfft. That’s practically child’s play to your white-haired boyfriend. A rogue grade one cursed spirit that turned out to be a special grade? Maybe you’ll sneak some bandages in his bag just in case. Bottom line is you wholeheartedly trust Satoru will always make it out of a mission in one piece.

But here you were seemingly more tense than usual which is incomprehensible because today’s hardly dangerous mission is simple.

Track down the son of Toji Fushiguro.

“I think I got it, babe.” Satoru leans his head in through the rolled down car window to plant a kiss on your forehead. He pats your cheek lovingly, setting off in the direction of the house after taking one last confirmatory look at the address written down in the file sheet. “Well, let’s hope he’s nothing like his dad. Promise you’ll check on me if I don’t come back in an hour?” he teases.

You lightly slap his wrist. Sometimes you wonder how you fell in love with this literal man-child. He’s just so insufferable. Gorgeous in every way but insufferable all the same. “I’m pretty sure a six-year-old boy isn’t gonna try to murder you. If he does, let the record show that I sympathize with him completely.”

“You meanie!”

Sticking his tongue out at you when you blow him a kiss, he disappears into the small street adjacent to the neighborhood’s main road. Coming here, Satoru was uncharacteristically nervous. At the rest stop earlier, you watched the scene tensely from the convenience store window. For once, the obnoxiously loud sorcerer was quiet, hands in his uniform pockets, his cerulean orbs trained on the pavement, his foot kicking the asphalt pebbles on the ground, deep in thought.

To be honest, he had no obligation to make the journey here even if this entire affair was born from Toji Fushiguro’s final words that sounded almost like a desperate plea. “In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zenin clan. Do whatever you will with that.” Satoru doesn’t know why — he’s not exactly the brightest when it comes to his interpersonal relationship skills so he could be wrong about this — but those twenty one words sounded more like four simple words: “Please save my son.”

And so, in a matter of only thirty minutes, you spot Satoru from afar, his hand protectively around his would have been assassin’s six-year-old son as they walk back to the car. Looks like the little boy had made his choice.

And you could see with the way Satoru protectively held Megumi back from crossing the street on a green light that he has also made his choice. Just thirty minutes ago, you were bantering with the version of Satoru that would be reluctant to go out of his way to help someone, now, you were face to face with someone new, someone who has been changed almost in a blink of an eye.

Stepping out of the car, you make your way towards the pair, a faint smile on your lips at the sight of Megumi’s tiny backpack slung over Satoru’s shoulder. Your boyfriend gently nudges Megumi over in your direction, introducing him and you crouch down to meet the little boy’s hesitant eyes. “Hi there, Megumi.” Your voice is as carefully gentle as a psalm, you didn’t want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. “I’m Y/N.”

“Hello.”

“Ice cold,” Satoru whistles, ruffling Megumi’s hair. But you figured that would be the case. A quiet breath of laughter comes from Satoru when you smile endearingly at the kid’s curtness.

As the three of you settle into the backseat, you and Satoru share a fond look when Megumi who has acted all guarded and silent the entire ride home from Chiba begins to drift off to sleep, his arms hugging his backpack but he was dangerously teetering off the seat, so Satoru gently picks him up, allowing him to lay his tiny head on his shoulder.

“He’s gonna stick around with us for a long time, huh?” you whispered, rubbing Megumi’s back as he slept soundly in Satoru’s arms, the three of yu blissfully unaware of just how much your life has changed. You came to Chiba and there was only you and Satoru, now, you were three. And though you know Satoru doesn’t intend to step in as a guardian, you could tell he was slowly settling into the inevitability of that fact. This boy needed a new start, a home, and people to guide him as he grew.

“…Yeah, he will,” Satoru answers, his eyes filled with wonder himself. Earlier when he first met Megumi, he told him to become strong enough to keep up with him.

But for now, maybe this was enough.

For the most part, Megumi is a good kid.

He diligently helps you with the housework without needing to be told twice the same way he diligently trains under Gojo’s tutelage. He studies hard despite only being in primary school, and he’s well-mannered in every way…at least to you, the kid won’t pass up the opportunity to scowl and call Satoru a lanky freak when he’s being pestered by him.

Because he’s so young to be sleeping in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s dormitories, you and Satoru settled into the idea of renting an apartment near the campus premises. Since you and Satoru are eighteen years old now, it was high time that the two of you start growing into your roles as functional adults which means leasing an apartment, paying the bills, growing your careers and taking your relationship to the next level.

Of course, you and Satoru both piled in cash when it comes to raising Megumi. Satoru mostly shouldered rent, monthly utilities and Megumi’s tuition, being a rich guy like him, those were practically small beans to him. You, on the other hand, shouldered the groceries, Megumi’s clothes and other needs.

One day, while on your way to pick up Megumi, you pass by the trendy Daikanyama district due to a road closure leading to the Ebisu district where Megumi’s primary school is. The inconvenience is nothing short of serendipitous as you and your boyfriend really did need a quick breather and some time for yourselves.

“I feel like I’m gonna turn into a wine dad very soon. Who would have known enrolling a kid would be that tough?” Satoru huffs, his hand protectively around your waist as you walked past boutique after boutique. “Like how am I supposed to know what his blood type is for the school clinic record?”

You hummed, sneakily stealing a kiss from him to which he responds to by pulling you closer, and pretending to bite off your ear. “For all the school knew, Megumi is ours. That would explain why they felt a little icky towards us when they saw how young we are back in that parent-teacher meeting.”

“Mmph, fair point. A cute son will come from a handsome father after all—“

“—Oh please. You’re okay at best.”

“You didn’t say that last night when I had you all folde—“

“—Please do not finish that sentence in public.”

Digressing, Satoru sighs, planting a contrite kiss on your warm cheek as the two of you leisurely walk down the picturesque lane of Tokyo’s very own version of Soho. Once you reach the main road, a certain outerwear apparel store catches your eye. You stop in front of the store window, looking curiously at the displayed winter items. “Megumi’s birthday is coming up soon, no? We should get him something nice.”

“Hmm? Oh right, the 22nd is coming up,” Satoru hums thoughtfully, leading you inside the store. There, the two of you split up to look for a nice gift for Megumi. There, he is approached by a staff member who asks if he’s looking for anything in particular. Satoru clears his throat, nodding. “I’m looking to buy a gift for my son.”

Somehow, you heard that from across the store and you shoot Satoru an amused look when he refers to Megumi as ‘his son’.

“Right, and how old might he be? We have a batch of new arrivals that came in today. They’re perfect for kids aged four and above.” At that, you rejoin Satoru and the sales staff leads you to check out the items at the front of the store. You and Satoru sort through the rack and find one that the two of you agree on: a fleece two-toned gravel winter jacket.

After paying for it, the two of you rush to get to Ebisu elementary school. Making your way to the gate, Megumi instantly spots you and Satoru, the latter being very difficult to miss since he pretty much towered over everyone else.

“Hi, kid, d’you have fun today?” you crouch down to give Megumi a hug. Between you and Satoru, you were the more clingy one towards Megumi, there’s hardly any hesitation in your heart when you pull him in for a warm embrace or carry him in your arms. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind one bit, but if Satoru did any of the those things to him, he’ll probably headbut him.

“It was fine,” Megumi says shyly once you pull away. “Oh and I got a hundred on the math homework you helped me with.”

“You did?” you smiled. “I’m so proud of you, Megumi.” Satoru smiles, going to ruffle Megumi’s hair only for the little boy to duck away from his hand and hide behind you.

Chuckling at the kid’s antics, Satoru concedes, putting up his free hand in surrender while his other one held onto the gift bag you got. Megumi reads the name of the store: “The North Face”. Following Megumi’s gaze, Satoru grins, handing Megumi the bag. “Here, we got you something. Call it an advanced birthday gift.”

Megumi’s expression screamed: “You didn’t have to.” but you don’t miss the look of surprise and gratitude that shined through his features. You gently nudge him to open it and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees the gift you got him — the first gift he’s ever received.

“Happy birthday, Megumi,” you and Satoru greet the little boy, with Satoru helping Megumi to try it on.

That was the first time Megumi initiated a heartfelt hug and the first time he ever included Satoru, his little arms trying their hardest to include the two of you, so you decide to help him out, and your and Satoru’s arms engulf the little one.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m headed there now. Alright, see you soon. I love you.”

Everything happened so quickly. One minute you were in Tokyo Jujutsu High’s teacher lounge organizing the first years’ missions for the next few days when you receive a call from Ebisu elementary school, informing you that Megumi got into a horrible fight and was now in the school clinic ready to be picked up, the next you were dashing out the door hurrying over to the school with your heart pounding in your chest.

There, you are the quintessential picture of a frazzled mother looking for her son in the school clinic.

“Y/N!”

“Megumi,” you breathed, your eyebrows knitting together in worry. Gathering him into your arms, you sit on the tiny hospital bed. “What happened? They said you got into a fight? And where’s your jacket?” He was wearing the jacket you got for him this morning when you and Satoru dropped him off, actually, he’s been wearing it a lot, indicating it’s one of, if not his favorite jacket.

Before Megumi could even speak, it looks like the kid that he got into a tussle with had already tattled on him to his mother and now said mother is furiously berating you and Megumi, not caring if anyone else in the clinic could overhear the scandalous remarks she’s throwing your way.

“I want full disciplinary action against this boy!” the middle aged woman all but screeches to the school’s principal, pointing an accusatory finger at Megumi who doesn’t flinch but you hear him sniffle. He’s never been yelled at like that before.

“Ma’am, please, let’s settle this like two rational adults—“

“—Oh I will, I can’t say the same about you! Are you not the least bit ashamed that you couldn’t teach your son good morals?” She then theatrically goes to place her hands on her son’s shoulders. And you have to be honest, with that bruised lip of his alongside his bleeding nose, Megumi had done some serious damage to the boy.

“I — Megumi is a good kid, not once, have we ever seen him hit someone for no reason—“

“—So you’re saying it’s my son’s fault yours is emotionally unstable? This boy doesn’t need a good talking to, what he needs is psychological intervention!”

“Alright, can everyone just please calm down?” The principal, too, seems visibly uncomfortable with the vile words the other parent was spewing at you like machine gun fire. “We’re all here to fix the problem, not make it worse.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you could tell this conversation has reached an impasse. Clearly, there’s no way you could reach a mutual understanding of what should be done to resolve the issue.

The older woman looks at you in disdain, grumbling under her breath at the humiliation of being scolded, “What should I even expect from an irresponsible woman who got knocked up before she was even an adult?”

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife or my son that way.”

Megumi looks up, tears in his eyes when Satoru strides in, his normally shining blue eyes dark with a fury that cannot be quelled. You can’t even feel the butterflies that went wild in your stomach when he accidentally referred to you as ‘his wife’ without so much as a stutter because you’re honestly this close to chewing the vile woman out. It didn’t matter if she insulted you, but if she does so much as insult and make your boy cry, you and Satoru will give the weasel a matching patch on her scalp where there should have been hair had you not ripped it out.

But now was not the time to prove her right.

People have always judged you and Satoru for being acting parents at such a young age, often giving you rude stares when you’re out and about doing the most menial of things like shopping at the supermarket or spending some time in the kōen, people found your current situation disgusting, borderline immoral, which is why you initially had trouble looking for an elementary school that would properly entertain you, Satoru and Megumi and not dismiss you three as a bunch of kids playing house.

“Satoru…” you rub your boyfriend’s arm soothingly.

“Babe, she insulted you and ‘Gumi,” Satoru whispers sadly. “I can’t just let her do that.”

All of a sudden, Megumi’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. “Daisuke was being mean. He ruined Hana-chan’s project and made her cry.” At that, the kid named Daisuke bites his lip, his skin turning pallid at the revelation. “And when I told him to apologize, he and Kaito…” Megumi whimpers, trailing off. He averts his gaze from your and Satoru’s, feeling guilty.

And right then and there, the story becomes even clearer when an unexpected witness comes to Megumi’s defense.

“Megumi-kun? We found your jacket, it’s not too damaged, but you may want to have your mama and papa wash it when you get home.” The school nurse walks in and hands you the ruined jacket, it had been cut all over but since it’s fleece, the damage isn’t too bad, not only that, it had crayon marks all over it and it smelled of the dumpster.

“…Daisuke and Kaito ruined my jacket and I punched him,” Megumi sniffles. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t apologizing for punching Daisuke, that much you could tell, he was apologizing to you and Gojo for supposedly not taking care of the gift you two got him just last week.

The vile mother scoffs at your son’s apology. “Save your breath, you little liar—“

“—He wasn’t talking to you,” Satoru glares at the woman, effectively shutting her up. “Come on, we’re going home.” With that, Satoru, being careful with him given his sprained wrist, carries Megumi out the clinic. You offer the principal a polite nod, indicating that you’ll cooperate with any sanction she seems fit for Megumi, Kaito and Daisuke, before following Satoru and Megumi to the parking lot. A melancholic smile appears on your lips when you hear Satoru reassuring Megumi that you’ll just wash and mend the jacket once you get home to which, Megumi only buries his face in the crook of his father figure’s neck.

If there is one good thing that happened today, it’s the fact that you proved to yourself and to each other that, no one in this world is allowed to hurt or insult your family.

Satoru wakes up to an empty bed and he doesn’t pretend to wonder where you are. He stays like that for a full minute, simply staring at the ceiling while your side of the bed slowly loses its warmth. He knows you’re hurting, and he knows just how much this entire ordeal has taken from you. First, you had to deal with him being sealed in the Prison Realm, now this…

You really just couldn’t catch a break, could you?

Slowly, Satoru gets up and pads across the hallway, entering a painfully familiar room. The owner of the room has only since recently moved out, but for ten years, this room is one he normally frequented with you, whether it be on Christmas mornings to greet the little prince that occupied such a special place in your heart or on nights when the three of you just simply needed to hold each other, searching for comfort, while you slept.

The door creaks open and Satoru’s eyes well up with tears, his heart plagued by the same emotional turmoil that was haunting you day in and day out. “I just want our boy to come home…I want our son back,” you cried as you held the jacket Megumi had outgrown, the same one he wore almost everyday that winter when he first came to live with you and Satoru.

Instantly, Satoru sits next to you on Megumi’s bed, hushing your cries, kissing away each agonizing tear that slipped from the confines of your sorrowful orbs.

“He must be so scared,” you sniffled, picturing Megumi in the darkest crevices of Sukuna’s soul, trapped and alone. “I don’t even know if he’s alright, if he’s even slept at all or if he’s being tormented by Sukuna day in and day out. What if he’s in pain? What if he’s cold?” you sobbed into your husband’s chest, your cries growing more desperate with each hour Megumi isn’t home safe.

“Shh, shh…I know, sweetheart…I’ll get him back, I promise I’ll bring him home.”

Or he’ll die trying.

Somewhere in the void, Megumi Fushiguro is in a state of catatonic stasis. Is this what limbo feels like? He just wants to sleep, to give in and let Sukuna’s soul consume him.

It’s so cold…so…cold.

No! He can’t give up, more than his desire to tap out and just live and let die…he wants to go home where he belongs.

You and Satoru must be so worried about him and he was worried too, what if something had happened out there while he was here? What if…something happened to the two of you when he hasn’t even done a thing to thank you both for all the love you’ve given him throughout these years? So with his last inch of consciousness remaining, he spends it on a silent plea.

“Mom…dad…please come find me.”

[piracytheorist]

Twilight Eyes Project: "Operation Strix" (part 2)

(part 1 here)

As Twilight tries, very unsuccessfully, to convince Anya to study for the entrance exam, we get Twilight eyes.

He still approaches it from a spy point of view. It's interesting that up to now he's only used his "Loid eyes" once for Anya, to try to make her stop crying by luring her with peanuts. It's probably a combination of him not knowing how kids work and of his own distancing from his emotions and childhood memories, that makes him think acting cold and calculating with a child will work.

It's interesting, however, to see how even with "Twilight eyes", he can still subtly express emotions.

Investigative eyes in the manga, full-face Twilight eyes in the anime.

I assume this was a choice in the anime, since in the manga there's a small panel of his face as he first notices the barricade was moved, then a panel of the trace the barricade left on the floor, then a focus on his eyes. Instead, in the anime, we see the traces on the floor at first, and then we see Twilight notice them as well and react to them. Manga can afford a narrow panel that focuses on something very specific. Anime needs to use the entire 16:9 screen almost constantly, so they utilize animation to draw our attention to the thing they want us to notice.

And something super interesting from the manga: Along the way, we'll get to see many moments that focus on his eyes, as I already mentioned, either through "sad eyes" or "investigative eyes".

Here, where his first instinct is to go find Anya, and he immediately flips back to "No, I've got to get to safety, fuck them kids"... we don't see his eyes.

Not only is the focus purposefully on a close-up that doesn't really show us his eyes (the window to the soul and all that), in the next panel his eyes are covered in shadows by his hair.

It makes a lot of sense when you realize that he actually ended up waltzing straight into enemy territory just to save Anya. The spy rule to protect his cover at all costs became a hindrance when the cost was the safety of a child. He'd been working dutifully as a spy for so long that his first plan was to ignore his instinct, but then he switched back to following his instinct anyway.

What I'm trying to say is that abandoning Anya in danger was not his true self.

Full-on, almost exaggerated Twilight eyes as he considers starting over and leaving Anya to her fate (interestingly enough, he bends to pick up Mr. Chimera in the anime).

Twilight eyes under and through the mask...

And then, interestingly enough, in his most vulnerable moment in the episode, and one of his most vulnerable moments in the entire story up to where the anime has adapted, we don't get to see his face. We see it through Nguyen's mask as he reacts to Anya crying and he realizes why it upsets him.

This vulnerable, hurt side of him is not something the audience will be allowed to see yet.

Passing onto that, the manga doesn't show his young self's eyes from up close. It's something hidden within his memories, something he doesn't want to face himself.

I'm sure it would look awkward in the anime, to only show half his face - there's different ways to portray tragedy as this in static art and in animation - so they zoomed out, censored some violence, and used animation to make the portrayal impactful.

Another interesting addition from the anime: his face, with Twilight eyes, superimposed over the image of masked Twilight leading Anya into safety, as he reminds himself what his original purpose for becoming a spy was.

Yet, we don't see his face as his internal monologue reaches that part. It's still a vulnerable part the audience won't get to see yet.

A rare case of elusive nightmare eyes as he faces Edgar and his goons...

Although the anime omits the first and shows the second with Twilight eyes, only turning into nightmare eyes when he outright threatens Karen's life.

I guess that was a choice of tension escalation.

A new expression with real eyes, as he notices Anya stayed behind.

Twilight, best spy of Westalis™, caught off-guard by a five-year-old.

Jump to Loid eyes as he tries to convince Anya he just happened to be here! What a coincidence, huh!

Two expressions in the manga as Anya tells him she wants to go back home with him...

but three in the anime.

An additional expression of surprise in the middle.

All visibly different from the "Twilight eyes", and the scene closes with a last shot of sad eyes.

After they see Anya passed her written exams, we get an outburst of emotion, wide open real eyes expressing happiness he probably doesn't realize he's experiencing.

Finally, is there a better way to force a character to show their real face than when they're asleep?

Calm, relaxed eyelids, and a hint of a blush. It's the one time he's vulnerable, open, real... and that's the reason he's mortified at the fact that he fell asleep even in Anya's presence. Can't have that!

(anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[sasageyoarmin]

hellooooooo

can i request number 89 «YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING»from the dialogue prompt list for the lawyer armin series

love yaaa

hi love!! yes yes yes this is such a good prompt :)

for anyone wondering, this prompt is for my new lawyer!armin series and comes from this prompt list !!

<3

"i miss you <3."

The message on Armin's phone lit up, the sound of the iMessage notification ringing across the room, causing the attention to switch to the dirty blonde man for a second. He looked down at the message from "mi amor 💍" and opened up the conversation fully to reveal three images.

Armin's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the pictures, two of them depicting his wife fully naked in front of their bedroom mirror and one of the photos showcasing her silhouette against a blank wall, the light from their windows illuminating her figure, showing off her curves and full chest.

Armin cursed internally, immediately shutting off his phone, trying not to draw attention to himself, his cheeks flushed as he tried to concentrate on the meeting. He prayed to God that no one had seen the images of his wife, and he knew that he would have a talk with her later about when to send those kinds of pictures.

"Pardon me, guys, I have to step out for a moment." Armin stated to his colleagues, leaving the room with his phone in hand. Once outside of the firm, he opened his phone back up again, the pictures on full display. He admired the way his wife looked, shaking his head and scoffing as he thought about how naughty she was attempting to be. Slowly, he could feel himself getting riled up at the sight of his lover, so he closed out of messages and decided to ring her up instead of responding through text.

After the third ring, the call connected.

"Armin?" She asked, almost seeming confused. "I thought you were in a meeting, is everything okay?"

She was playing dumb. He wasn't a fan.

"I was in a meeting, yes." Armin's jaw clenched at how naive his wife was attempting to be. "Don't play dumb with me, baby."

"What do you mean?" She questioned. He could almost hear the smirk on the other side of the line, and he wasn't having any of it.

He scoffed, rubbing his brow. "You sent me nudes at work! I was in an important meeting, you know this."

"Did you not like them?" His wife pouted behind the screen, her legs rubbing against each other, wishing that her husband was home to pay attention to her.

"Obviously I did, that's why I'm calling you." Armin sounded annoyed, and she felt bad (but she didn't, really.) "I had to leave because of you."

"M'sorry."

"You're not sorry, you just want attention from me."

"I miss you." She admitted, twirling her fingers at the thought of Armin returning home to her later. "I didn't get to see you this morning, you know. You left without waking me up."

"I left because it was 7 am and I didn't want to disturb you. I told you last night that I would be home before dinner."

"That's too late, Min." He could tell over the phone that she was getting antsy and annoyed, her voice becoming higher and whinier. "I want you now, I woke up wanting you."

Armin cursed aloud, the word echoing into his phone, eliciting a soft whine from his wife. "I have to stay in this meeting, love. I'll see you when I get home."

"What am I supposed to do with myself?" She sighed out, whining as she shifted her hips on their bed, something Armin couldn't see. "I'm all alone."

"You can wait for me, right?"

"I don't want to, that's not fair." His wife sighed out, getting impatient.

"Life isn't fair, babe. You'll wait for me to come home. I'm not leaving work for this."

She sighed out, rubbing her thighs together at the thought of her husband getting annoyed at her in such a way. She smiled at the idea of working him up even more by letting him know what she would be doing while he was in his meeting. "Fine. I'll just go take a shower then, hmm?"

"God, baby, stop doing that."

"I'm not doing anything, Min."

"You know what you're doing. Don't send me these again today unless you want me to stay at work longer." His voice was strict, as if he was actually angry, yet she knew it was just a disguise so he wouldn't break under the pressure from his wife.

"M'kay, fine, you're boring. Go back to your meeting, babe, I love you."

"Love you too, I'll see you in a few hours."

"Take your time, Min! I'll just be here, wishing my fingers were yours." She hung up the phone, smirking as she realized how bothered she had just made her husband.

Armin stared at his phone in disbelief, the screen fading to black as he waited in the parking lot, trying not to think about his wife's pictures and what she was probably doing in that moment as he thanked God that he wore his larger slacks that day, as his physical issue wouldn't be as prominent when he walked back into the room.

Needless to say, he only stayed for two more hours at that meeting, after his wife had sent him an explicit audio recording.

<3

EEEEEEE i love lawyer!armin :)

pls pls pls lmk how you thought this was!!!!

i love you guyssssss

<3

[magiccath]

A Mind Full of Blissful Terrors

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the Doctor and reader investigate a strange spaceship

CW: horror elements, body gore, and one singular f-bomb

Word count: 7.4k

A/N: many, many drafts, and too many months later, I have finally finished this one. I really hope you guys like it.

You bounced into the TARDIS control room, more than excited for your next adventure with the Doctor. He could take you to a grocery store and you would probably enjoy it. 

“Where to today?” You asked with a smile. 

“I was thinking someplace relaxing, we’ve been running for the past couple of days,” the Doctor suggested, looking at you for approval. 

“Yes please!” you groaned, tilting your head back. 

The Doctor smiled to himself, pleased at his own ability to know when you needed a break. 

“Maybe we could head to Italy for some of that pasta you love?” he suggested, leaning back against the console. 

“I would love some pasta!” you cheered, moving over to him. The Doctor smiled at you, the kind of smile that overtook his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled and his eyebrows angled slightly upwards. 

“Allons-y!” He cheered, turning back towards the console. He started messing with it, flipping switches and pressing buttons. He did it all too fast for you to make sense of it. He was about ready to lift off when it started.

The TARDIS was beeping. The kind of sound a car makes when you forget to put your seatbelt on. The only issue was, the TARDIS doesn’t have seatbelts. You didn’t know the ship as well as he did, but you did know it wasn’t a normal sound. 

You looked about in confusion before shouting his name over the incessant noise. 

He looked back at you, just as confused as you were. That didn’t bode well with you.

The ship lurched forward aggressively, sending you tumbling across the room. You crashed into the railing, the impact making you wince. The Doctor stumbled too, tripping over himself in the process and crashing to the floor. 

“What happened to Italy?” You yelled, frustrated. You had flown to Italy before, and it was never this bumpy. 

“It’s not me!” The Doctor protested, getting up from the floor where he had landed. The ship rocked again, almost sending him back down. 

“Can you stop it?” 

“I’m not quite sure,” he grumbled, rushing about pressing buttons and pulling levers, all the while trying not to fall again. Unfortunately for him, centuries of experience meant little when your ship had a mind of its own. 

You gripped the railing for dear life, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes it would just stop.

“It’s a distress signal,” he explained after a while, squinting at the screen in front of him. 

“What?” You opened your eyes. It didn’t sound like a distress signal to you.

“Someone has patched through a distress signal, there’s nothing I can do about it,” he said, clutching the computer screen in front of him. 

You let out an exasperated sigh, letting go of the railing. This wasn’t entirely unusual. The TARDIS had a habit of hijacking your trips and taking you places you didn’t really want to be. It was no surprise that your vacation was being postponed by some “distress call.”

The ship landed with its signature thump, the impact sending you stumbling again, this time into the console. You quickly regained your balance, running your hands through your hair anxiously.

You could be anywhere just about now, and the thought made you slightly uneasy. The Doctor, on the other hand, seemed more than excited for the adventure at hand. He rushed to the door, eagerly throwing them open with reckless abandon. Warily, you followed him. 

You didn’t know what to expect, but this certainly wasn’t it. 

Before you was a seemingly endless hallway. There were no windows, only large expanses of steel paneled walls. There was an incessant beeping in the distance, but you couldn’t pinpoint the sound. It was hard to see too far in front of you, the hallway was completely dark. 

The Doctor rummaged around in his coat pocket, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and a small flashlight. He handed the latter to you and started off down the hall without explanation. You had no choice but to switch the light on and run after him. 

He walked around with curiosity, his eyebrows furrowed. You walked slowly behind him taking in the ominous surroundings. He led the way with his screwdriver, scanning just about everything. He stopped every down and then to frown at the readings.

The beam of your flashlight was small, leaving you mostly in the dark. From what you could see, the hallway was a mess. Rubbish lined the floor; empty food packets, ripped fabric, and various pieces of plastic and metal. You were sure you saw a few bones, but you scuttled away anxiously before continuing.

Distracted from your own surveillance, you walked straight into the Doctor’s back. 

“Sorry,” you winced. He shook his head, unbothered by the disturbance. 

“It doesn't make sense,” he mumbled to himself, continuing down the hallway. He didn’t say it with his usual childish enthusiasm, rather, he seemed to be harboring thinly veiled anxiety.

You sulked after him, the floors creaking incessantly underneath your feet. 

You continued to scan your surroundings. The ceiling was lined with large vents, a few of which were damaged. You didn’t get a solid look, but the hissing coming from them led you to believe they were air vents. Perhaps you were on a space base? Or, a ship?

“Doctor?” you whispered, an unease spreading through you. You couldn’t explain it, but something felt off.

“This way,” he instructed, tilting his head away from the noise. He could get like this. Distracted. In the moment, whatever danger lurked around the corner was paramount to everything else. 

An uneasy feeling that you were being followed crept up on you. You picked up your pace, practically running to catch up with the Doctor. Every now and then you would cast your gaze backward, nervously searching for the presence you sensed. You could have sworn you were seeing shadows, looming forms that sulked after you. It was likely just your brain playing tricks on you, right?

You still used your light to survey the hallways behind the Doctor. For the most part, you were just encountering various forms of rubbish. That was until you stumbled across a body. You gasped, jumping back from it. Your shoes left bloody tracks from the puddles of blood surrounding the corpse.

“What is it?” The Doctor asked worriedly, by your side in an instant. You pointed at the body in front of you, your eyes unable to move away from it. 

The sight was far from pretty. The person was a member of the ship’s crew, their work suit featuring a name patch and company logo. The Doctor moved closer, examining the branding. You scanned the name tag, unsure if knowing the identity of the deceased would make it better or worse. As much as you didn’t want to look at their face, it was hard not to. It was entirely blown open, the skull in cracked fragments from the damage. The flesh on the right side of the face peeled back, blooming like a fungus. On the other side, an eyeball hung from its socket, the optic nerve stopping it from falling to the ground. 

It was the kind of grotesque death that stuck with you, that popped up in your nightmares for months after seeing it. 

“There's not anything we can do for him,” The Doctor said, his voice close to your ear. You jumped, unaware that he had moved back to your side. You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away from the dead body. 

The Doctor offered his hand to you solemnly. You took it, clutching onto it like a tether. Maybe if you squeezed his hand tight enough you could forget that there was a dead body a few meters away from you. 

You stopped looking closely at the ship after that, focusing mostly on what was directly in front of you. If you investigated, you might risk finding more horrors. The Doctor didn’t seem any more comfortable than you, but he continued his scanning and searching of the hallways. 

As you reached the end of a corridor, you stopped with a sudden gasp. The Doctor whipped his head around, terrified that you had found something gruesome again. He relaxed when he saw where your eyes were trained. 

Before you stood a beautiful expanse of space, planets, and stars floating all around. A messy watercolor of shapes and colors, all colliding to create a perfect masterpiece. You had seen some of the masters at work, even posed for a painting with Leonardo Da Vinci. The most famous paintings didn’t compare to the sight in front of you. It was stunning. No, it was more than that.

“Wow,” you breathed, marveling at the sight before you. You could see a hundred galaxies and still find them mesmerizing. You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. 

“Spaceship then?” you deduced, looking back at the Doctor. He nodded, his eyes already trained on you. A sky full of stars, and he was looking at you. 

“Suppose we should figure out where the crew is?” you suggested, trying to be of help.

“Right,” He said, his smile fading. “Where is the crew? A ship has got to have a crew, doesn't it?” 

You nodded solemnly as you followed him. Even if he didn't seem too keen on it, he was still going to investigate. 

He mumbled to himself as he walked, trying to work it all out in his head. He did this a lot, it was his way of thinking. Sometimes, he expected you to listen, but most of the time he was just lost in his own world. 

You approached an intersection and cleared your throat, pulling his attention back to you.

To the right was a hallway like all of the ones you had walked down before. Dark, ominous, and probably housing more dead bodies. You didn’t really want to investigate and find out.

To the left was a similarly eerie hallway, but you could make out a flashing red light at the end of it. The beeping alarm appeared to be coming from that direction as well. You pointed in that direction, surmising that you should go in that direction. 

“Oh, yes, we should probably go that way,” he agreed, but he didn’t move. 

“Doctor?” You asked, looking at him with concern. You offered your hand, trying to replicate the sense of comfort and unity that he had provided for you earlier. 

He smiled, still not his usual happy smile, and took your hand gently. He didn’t squeeze like you did, but you knew he still viewed the hand-holding as a tether. 

“Dark, scary, abandoned spaceship that makes weird noises,” the Doctor recapped as the two of you moved down the hallway. 

“What could go wrong?” you winced. 

The Doctor grimaced, “Don’t say that.” 

A thick, steel door loomed in front of you, bright red lights flashing from the other side. You weren’t quite sure if you were prepared for what lay beyond it. 

Without hesitation, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver to unlock the door. It looked like he was sticking to his usual MO: act first, think later. 

Hesitantly, you slipped in the door after him. You couldn’t say that you shared the same carefree demeanor as the Time Lord.

The first thing you noticed was the windows. The front of the room was covered with thick glass. The view was still beautiful, but you weren’t looking at it. At the moment you had more pressing matters, like the spider web-like fractures that sprinkled the surface of the glass. You tried not to dwell too much on the implications that might have.

Your eyes focused on the rest of the room, darting around to look at all of the damage. Taking in the technological panels around the room, you inferred that you were currently in the central control room of the ship.  

Wires poked out of their metal containers, a few of them shooting sparks into the air around them. Something had clearly made its way through the room, tearing up anything it could find in the process. The disheveled state of your surroundings did little to quell your anxieties. 

On top of it all, the alarms on the ship were more than overwhelming. The flashing lights were blinding, a deafening alarm heightening the pain in your head. 

You moved slowly into the room, your eyes still scanning everything. The Doctor wasn’t as observant as you, shuffling through the mess of wires in a desperate frenzy. He was anxious, and that didn’t help your own anxieties. 

Behind one of the main control panels lay another dead body, this one fully decapitated. You didn’t want to actively look for the head. Whatever had happened, you were too late to do anything about it, you knew that much. That kind of damage just wasn’t something that you could fix.

The Doctor mulled about the nearby screens, trying to get them to turn on. After some brute force accompanied by the sonic, he managed to get the system to boot up. He started by turning off the alarms, a service you were more than grateful for. 

“There’s security footage…” The Doctor mumbled, moving closer to the screen in front of him. He mumbled a few more things, but you didn’t listen. He was probably just talking to himself again. 

You moved about gingerly, taking in the entirety of the room. You examined the damaged control panels while the Doctor continued his fiddling with the working screens. 

Absentmindedly, you picked up an empty box. You dropped it almost immediately, terrified by what was directly behind it.  

In front of you laid a fragment of skull, gooey bits of brain seeping out of it. A singular, unfocused eye stared back at you relentlessly from its socket. 

You looked down at your hand in horror, noticing the small amount of blood from when you handled the box. The sight left you gasping for air, your hand shaking uncontrollably. 

“Doctor,” you cried. You wanted to turn away, wanted to forget the image of it. It was like a car crash, so terrible that you wanted to look away but you just couldn’t. 

You stumbled backward, tripping on another skull fragment. Your foot landed directly on it, sending a painfully loud crack through the room. You gasped in horror, lifting your foot gingerly. The damage from your shoe cracked the damaged bone further, creating a mess of small bone fragments, blood, and what you presumed was the deceased’s brain. The sight was so painfully unnatural, you felt your stomach muscles contracting in fear. You were terrified you might throw up.

“Doctor,” you cried again, feeling tears prick the back of your eyes. 

He ignored you, something he often did when he was in the zone. It wasn’t personal, he just tended to hyperfocus.

You repeated his name, urgency forcing its way into your voice. 

“There’s nothing we can do,” he said, looking over at you sadly. He really wished there was something he could do. If he had the ability, he would save everyone that ever existed. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way.

You choked back a sob, eyes still not wanting to look away from the carnage in front of you or the gore on your hands. You knew there was nothing that could be done about the gruesome scene, but that didn’t make it any less scary. In all reality, who would feel comfortable in a room of dismembered body parts? 

The Doctor whispered your name, placing a hand on your arm gently, “Look at me.” 

You shook your head, terrified. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t look away. Your vision was blurring, distorting the bloody mess of your hand.

“Look at me!” he snapped, grasping your shoulders and effectively pulling you back to reality. The volume of his voice scared you, but you could tell from the tone he was doing it out of love. 

“We need to get to the TARDIS. Now,” He urged. His face was clouded and sad, neither of which eased your fear.

He tried to hold your gaze, tried to get you to look away from the horrors in front of you. He hated that he couldn’t protect you from this. 

“There is something on this ship, something dangerous,” he explained. “It’s probably still here, and we need to leave. Now.”

You blinked, fighting back tears. You didn’t want to be scared. You wanted to be useful and brave. You wanted to be someone the Doctor could admire, someone he could love. Standing in fear, on the verge of tears, was hardly something he found attractive. 

A distinctly alien clicking came from the other side of the room, sending the Doctor rigid. You stared up at him, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. He swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing aggressively. Slowly, he tilted his head in the direction of the door. 

“Slowly. Quietly.” He mouthed. You nodded and followed his lead, sneaking as carefully as you could to the door. 

You didn’t dare take your eyes off of him. You didn’t want to risk laying eyes on whatever else was in the room. If your attention remained on his face, it was almost as if everything was fine. Almost as if you were somewhere safe and comfortable. 

You let the Doctor lead you to the door, his hands placed firmly on your waist. His touch served as an anchor, keeping you tied to reality. 

You were almost halfway to the exit when it hit him. He’d left his sonic screwdriver on the main control panel. 

You saw the panic flash across his face. As much as he tried to hide it from you, you always notice when he’s upset. 

“The sonic,” he mouthed. 

You nodded slowly, letting him know it was okay to let go. You knew how important the sonic was, you’d need it sooner rather than later. 

He was hesitant. The Doctor didn’t like leaving you when it was safe - he dreaded leaving you when it was dangerous.

You nodded again, hoping that your eyes did the talking for you. The two of you weren’t getting too far without the sonic, especially not on a strange spaceship with some monster alien on it. He had to go back, even if that meant leaving you. 

Reluctantly, he started to slowly back away from you. He kept his eyes trained on you for as long as he could before he had to turn away to look where he was going. He moved as quietly as he could, taking extra care to not draw attention to himself. 

Eventually, he made his way back to the console and grabbed the sonic. In the process, he managed to fumble it a bit. He froze, holding his breath in the hope that he hadn’t just revealed your location. The room was silent for a few seconds, long enough for him to think the course was clear. He let out his breath, relieved. 

The clicking resumed from the corner of the room, now closer to you than to him. You saw the recognition flash across the Doctor’s face. You started to turn towards the noise but the Doctor shook his head. You froze, not daring to move. 

You heard the windows crack further, the sound of glass breaking unnaturally loud in the silent room. The shattering made your stomach drop, your breathing labored and tense.  

“Run!” The Doctor shouted, already making his way out of the room. You were on opposite ends of the room, it made no sense for either of you to wait for the other. 

Even still, it took a second for the Doctor’s words to register. Once they did, you set off running. 

You had to get as far away as you could. The blood rushing in your ears was enough to dull the sounds around you. The only thing that mattered was getting out. 

You could hear the monster moving and hissing behind you, the sound growing closer and closer. You looked behind you, panic coursing through your body. You couldn’t see anything, and you didn’t dare stop to get a good look. You could hear thumping in the vents, maybe that’s how the alien was getting around. You stopped running, turning your attention to the vents above you. Sure enough, that was the origin of the noise. The hissing was getting louder, the proximity of danger sending you into a frenzy. 

You didn’t know what to do. You were on a strange spaceship in the middle of nowhere with a potentially deadly alien coming after you. Even worse, you were separated from the Doctor. 

You turned around in circles, raking your brain for a way out of this. The more you thought about it, the more panic you felt. It was times like this that you wished your body went into fight mode rather than flight. Maybe then you could be useful. 

You hardly had time to react before the alien had dropped down from the vents and onto you. You let out a shout before it grabbed you, the force of it knocking you out. 

-

You woke up in your bed, your head feeling heavy and groggy. The memories came back to you slowly, the ship, the alien, the dead bodies. You shuddered, looking around the room anxiously. Your eyes landed on the Doctor and you let out a sigh. 

“You’re awake,” he smiled brightly. 

You smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spread across your body. 

He moved over to you, gathering you in a tight hug. You buried your nose in his neck, inhaling his signature scent. The calming mix of linen, peppermint, and strong tea. The smell was familiar and comforting, a welcome sensation after the anxiety you had just endured.

“I was terrified, I thought I lost you and t-that thing,” you choked, stumbling over your words. It didn’t really matter, you were with the Doctor now. The steady thumping of his duel hearts provided a baseline that calmed your frantic breathing, effectively quenching your panic.

You finally pulled away from the Doctor enough to look at him. Oftentimes, you found you could learn more from the Time Lord’s eyes than his words. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, his eyes riddled with worry. 

“I’m ok,” you shook your head, “I’m ok now.” 

You really were. It was silly to think that the Doctor could fix everything, but he sure could fix a lot of things. You felt safe with him, especially when he had saved you from random spaceships and homicidal aliens.  

“Thank you for getting me out of there,” you smiled. He hugged you again, and you relished in the comfort. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms.

The next thing he did shocked you. The Doctor kissed you. 

He held your face like it was his entire world and placed his lips against yours gently. You melted into the kiss, tangling your hands in his shirt. 

You felt tears slide down your face - from relief, from joy, and just pure pleasure. Kissing the Doctor was everything that you had ever wanted and more. 

He kissed you like you were his everything, like he couldn’t get enough of you. When he pulled away he looked into your eyes adoringly, a smile creeping across his face. 

He kissed the top of your head, the feeling comforting and familiar. 

“Stay with me?” you asked, holding onto him.

“Always,” he whispered into your hair.

-

The Doctor couldn’t find you, and he was starting to worry. 

You both had seen what the alien did to people firsthand. He didn’t want you to become its next victim. It could take your mind, and even worse, it could kill you.

A race he had previously believed to be extinct that possessed the power to show you your deepest desires. Lost in self-indulgence, the creature could feed off of your energy until you were drained. The sheer force of it usually caused your head to explode. The corpse with the blown-up face in the hallway should have clued him in. He ridiculed himself for not figuring it out sooner. 

Not knowing where you were or if you were still alive was sending the Doctor into a spiral. 

He ran through the endless halls, desperately searching for you. He couldn’t hear the alien moving around, and the silence was deafening. He didn’t know if it was on the other side of the ship, well away from you, or if it was busy feasting off of your brain. 

As he turned the corner, his fears became a reality. 

You were sprawled out on the floor, your shallow breathing the only sign of life coming from you. The alien clung to you, the contact enough to establish a psychic link. 

He had to be smart about this if he wanted to keep you alive. He needed to get the alien off of you as quickly as possible and pull you out of the dream-induced state before your mind turned into mush, or worse.

He flattened his back against the wall, his breath coming out in short pants. His mind raced, scenarios playing out one after another like a series of movies. He couldn’t mess up, not if he wanted to make it out of this in one piece. Not if he wanted to save you.

He peered around the corner, looking warily in your direction. The alien only had the capacity for one victim at a time. Considering it was latched onto you, he was mostly safe. That was unless there were multiple on the ship. 

He decided it was a risk worth taking and rushed to your side. He picked up your hand, holding it gently. You were breathing, but just barely. He needed to move fast. He said your name a few times, hoping it might rouse you, even if he knew it wouldn’t. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, allowing his fingers to travel towards your head. He hated invading your mind like this, especially without your permission. It was a direct violation, but he couldn’t think of much else to do. 

He didn’t know what he had expected to see, but images of your lips on his were certainly not on the list. He dropped the connection instantly, scampering away from your limp body. 

He shook his head. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. The alien had gotten in his head. That was the only explanation. 

He held his head in his hands, trying to get rid of the residual images of the two of you. He didn’t want to think about it too much. If he did, he might find himself falling deeper into the rabbit hole. He feared it was just the alien showing his own desires. 

“It’s just a dream,” he whispered to himself, trying to get ahold. It wasn’t real. It was just what he wanted to see.

Once he had settled his mind enough, he focused on establishing a physic block. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with saving you if he was fighting the alien himself.

-

You were happy and safe in the Doctor’s arms. He was holding you against his chest, and you could hear the steady beating of his hearts. The sound was comforting and familiar. 

You couldn’t think of a single place you would rather be. The Doctor felt like home to you.

He traced circular patterns onto your back. You were sure it was circular Gallifreyan, but you were too blissful to focus on it. 

Your peace was violently ruined as you jerked up in pain. Your head was suddenly filled with screaming. The pain shot through your head, causing you to pull away from the Doctor. 

You could see the concern on his face, could see his lips moving. He was probably asking if you were okay, but you couldn’t hear it. All you could hear was the noise. 

You collapsed to the floor, squeezing your eyes shut. Panic rushed through you, pushing tears from your eyes. You felt like you were dying. Maybe you were. 

You curled into a ball, clutching your head desperately. You gripped and pulled at your hair, anything to try and end this pain. It wouldn’t go away, no matter what you did. 

You screamed, the sound gruesome and raw. You didn’t know what else to do. 

After what seemed like hours, the noise grew to a painful crescendo that drowned out even your own voice. 

As suddenly as it all started, the noise ended. The change was shocking, enough to leave you extremely light-headed. The shift from everything to nothing was more torturous than relieving. 

You sprang upright, a gasp falling from your lips. 

Your eyes darted across the room anxiously. You were back in the TARDIS, but you couldn’t remember getting there. Next to you was the shriveled corpse of some alien. You gasped and shoved yourself away from it, fear coursing through your body.

“It’s ok,” the Doctor said, holding his hand out, “you’re ok.” 

“What the fuck just happened?” You gasped, leaning away from him too. Your eyes continued darting around the room in fear. You couldn’t remember much, just running from the monstrous hissing and clicking in the vents. You figured the dead thing next to you had been chasing you, but you couldn’t remember the Doctor being there with you.

“Take a deep breath,” the Doctor urged. 

You shook your head and repeated your question, “What just happened?” with a pant. 

“That alien,” he gestured to the corpse, “had you in a trance, I helped pull you out of it,” he explained, calmly. He was looking into your eyes with worry. 

“A what?” You asked, shaking your head again. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. 

“The alien on this ship,” he explained. You cut him off with a gasp, the horrors of the control room rushing back to you. The box, the bodies, the blood. You looked down at yourself with fear, half expecting yourself to be maimed. 

“It’s ok,” he urged again, “I got rid of it, you’re safe.” 

You shook your head, hoping it would all go away. 

“It’s gone.” 

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“It’s over.” 

A tear slid down your face. You still didn’t know why you were crying. Relief? Fear? Happiness? 

The Doctor let you, he knew it was a lot. You had almost died after all. He moved over to you, offering a hand so you could stand up. You let him pull you upright until you were standing. 

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked, brushing your tears away gently. He was so gentle with you, even in your dreams. 

“A hug would be good,” you stuttered. The Doctor didn’t waste any time pulling you into his arms. He held you tightly, like he was afraid that you would slip out of his grip. 

Your face came to rest in the crook of his neck, the feeling and smell all too familiar. The tears came faster then, harder too. You couldn’t hold them back. 

The Doctor pulled away, looking at you with concern, “what’s wrong?”

“Why couldn’t it have been real?” you sobbed, fairly certain you were incoherent like this, “why can’t you love me?” 

You wanted to take it back the minute that you said it. Once you saw the words register with the Doctor you knew it was all over. 

You wiped your tears hurriedly, stepping back from him. 

“You don’t have to answer that - I don't know why I said that,” you laughed, even though you didn’t find it funny. You were embarrassed that you had shown your cards like that. Embarrassed that you had let the Doctor know how you really felt about him. But even more, you were mad at yourself for asking such a selfish question. For wanting something simply because it felt good to you. 

“But I do,” the Doctor whispered back, confused. How could you not see that?

“Yeah, as a friend,” you said, more to the floor than to his face. You were fiddling, moving farther and farther away from him. He felt like you were drifting away, and he wanted you to come back. 

“No,” he shook his head vigorously, his floppy hair flying across his forehead. 

“It’s ok,” you mumbled, the back of your legs hitting the TARDIS console. There was nowhere else for you to back up. 

“No, really. I cannot tell you how much I care for you,” he said, he desperately wanted to reach out to you. He didn’t know how to prove this to you, to show you just how much he truly loved you. He wasn’t good at being emotionally vulnerable, that much he knew. But that didn’t change the way he felt about you.

You shook your head again. “It’s not real”. You were dreaming again, you had to be. That was the only sensible explanation for all of this.

“It is,” the Doctor pleaded. He hated that this was happening, hated seeing you in pain. 

“I can show you,” he suggested, holding out his hands. He didn’t have the words to prove it to you, but he had the memories.

“I can develop a telepathic link, I can let you into my mind. I can’t lie to you in there,” he offered. You frowned at his outstretched hands, your brain still processing his words.

“You can say no,” he added, “after what happened today I wouldn’t blame you.” 

You thought about it for a moment. You really wanted to believe the Doctor, so you nodded. 

The Doctor moved towards you gently, still giving you plenty of chances to recoil from his touch. His fingers landed feather light against your temple. His eyes fluttered closed, and you followed suit. 

It was like being pulled through space. There was no warning or preparation, just a sudden feeling of vertigo crashing in on you. 

Before you knew it you were inside the Time Lord’s mind. It felt like literally walking around his brain, digging in the creases that he never let anyone see. It wasn’t the kind of experience that you could explain to someone, even if you had wanted to. 

For the first time, you saw what you looked like from his eyes. Images of your smile flashed in front of you, the speed of it making your eyes hurt. It was weird to see yourself like this - from someone else's point of view. It was like looking at someone else entirely. 

You had only ever seen yourself in a mirror, or pictures. Your face seemed backward to you, and it took a second for it to register that it was. So this is how people see me? You thought, looking at yourself with a newfound sense of scrutiny. 

You didn’t get to dwindle on it for too long before the memories started playing. It was like a mental backlog of home videos, and you wondered how the doctor could remember this much of you. Surely he had more important things in his brain than you? 

It started in the early days, back when he had first met you. You couldn’t help but notice how young you looked. 

“I have room for one more,” the Doctor had offered, leaning against his mysterious blue box casually.

“I don’t know,” you had said, tilting your head, “that ship looks a little small.”

The Doctor grinned at you and opened the door, beckoning you inside. This was always his favorite part.

“It’s… smaller on the outside,” you gasped. The Doctor looked at you shocked, no one had ever said that to him before. The typical response was somewhere along the lines of “It’s bigger on the inside!” followed by complete shock at the defiance of the laws of space. Instead, you looked at the ship with unmistakable wonder, adoration, and curiosity. Your hands danced across the cool metal of the ship, fascinated by everything around you. You had the wonder and inquisitiveness of a child, fascinated by even the simplest of things around you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled at the Doctor, the grin taking over your whole face. The Doctor couldn’t help but be amazed at you, at the wonder you had for the world around you. It was beautiful, and he couldn’t look away.

The scene faded, a new one taking its place.

In the new memory, you ran into the TARDIS control room, a giant smile plastered on your face. This memory was later, you could tell not only by your face but by the clear comfort you had with the ship. By now, you were more than comfortable calling it home.

“Doctor!” you laughed, plopping down next to him happily.

“Yes?” The Doctor asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Guess what I found?” you asked, an eyebrow quirking upwards. You remembered this day. You had spent hours trying to figure out the organizational system in the TARDIS library. You eventually figured out that there wasn’t really one and gave up. However, in the process, you stumbled across a book. 

In the Doctor’s memory, you held up a dusty book ceremoniously. 

“A book?” he asked with a laugh. 

You shook your head, your smile unfaltering. 

“It’s your favorite book,” you laughed, shoving the book into the Doctor’s chest. 

“How do you know that?” He asked, thumbing the pages fondly. 

“You told me once,” you shrugged, a scarlet flush creeping across your face. 

“I did?” He asked, setting the book off to the side. 

“When you took me to see Jane Austen,” you explained, leaning against the console comfortably. 

“I asked what your favorite book was, and you told me it was this one,” you put your hand on top of the old hardback, fingers brushing across the worn cover. In your memory, you had been looking at the book, too scared to meet the Doctor’s eye. From his perspective, the focus was on your face. The slight smile that tugged at your lips, the way that your hair fell into your face. There was no mistaking the way that the Doctor looked at you at that moment. You had seen it a hundred times on television. You felt a heat flush to your cheeks. Not in the memory, but in the current moment. 

The Doctor’s memory moved on, the moment fleeting. 

In this scene, he was hunched over the TARDIS console. He hung his head in a way that conveyed distress, his spiky hair falling over cloudy eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, placing your hand on his shoulder gently. 

He looked over at you, almost surprised to see you. 

The Time Lord’s eyes were always so expressive, and you didn’t like what you saw in them. You couldn’t recall a time you had ever seen them this sad. There was a darkness in them, the kind that worried you. 

“I’m always alright,” he said tightly, forcing a sad smile. 

“No, no you’re not,” you said, tracing your hand down his arm. You let your fingers interlace with his, and his eyes trained themselves on the connection. 

“Why do you stay with me?” He choked, clearly fighting tears.

You frowned, confused by the question. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“The things I’ve done…” he trailed off, lost in his own dark thoughts, “They’re unforgivable.” 

“You’re not your past,” you assured, rubbing calming circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. 

“I keep doing them. Horrible things,” he shook his head. “I’m a monster.” 

“Don’t say that,” you ridiculed. He laughed sadly, turning away from you. 

“Hey.” you guided his face back in your direction gently, your touch comforting. “You are a good man.” Your eyes darted between his, taking in anguish laden in them. 

“You’re the Doctor,” you stated with a laugh. Your hands traveled down to his chest, resting over his hearts. They thumped a steady rhythm, the beat comforting and familiar to you.

“You have the biggest hearts of anyone I know,” you said, still holding his eye. Your hands moved back up to his face, holding it gently. He closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his freckled cheek. Your thumb swiped it away without a second thought. 

“You are so good,” you reassured. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he cried, the tears more frequent now.

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” you chuckled, the slight humor of it bringing a small smile to his face.

“Seriously,” you added. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair.

The scene melted away again, a new one taking its place.

“It’s your name,” the Doctor explained as you thumbed a pendant. It was small, hardly bigger than a coin. Engraved on the surface was a series of intertwining circles, a pattern you easily recognized as circular Galliyfreyan. 

“How did you?” You asked, your sentence trailing off as you looked up at him in wonder. 

“I had it specially made,” he shrugged like it meant nothing. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, looking down at the necklace in adoration. There was a twinkle in your eyes that you had never picked up on before. 

“Can you put it on for me?” You asked holding the necklace out to the Doctor. He nodded meekly, taking the chain from your hands. 

His hands lingered on your skin as he fastened the chain around your neck. You could feel the electricity in his touch, the way that he didn't want to let go. 

You turned around with a smile on your face, your hand ghosting around the pendant. 

“How do I look?” You asked.

The Doctor smiled to himself, taking the moment to memorize your face. The distinct lines of your expression, the shine in your eyes, the joy on your face. All of it was captivating. You were captivating. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and he meant it. 

The scene moved on. You weren’t in the next one, the area unfamiliar to you. 

The Doctor was sitting in the console room, his head bowed. Donna stood above him, her arms crossed. The sight of the redhead made you sad, you missed her. You missed your best friend. 

“You’re acting like I don’t already know this?” She laughed, the sound painstakingly familiar. 

The Doctor looked up at her like a wounded puppy. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at them,” she continued, “like they’re the only person in the whole wide world that matters.” 

“That’s dramatic,” the Doctor groaned. 

“It’s true,” she glared at him. He didn’t argue. 

“Are you going to tell them?” She asked, her gaze softening. 

The Doctor shook his head, “I can’t.” 

“Why?” Donna glared. 

“Have you ever heard the saying ‘Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it than to have never had it?’?” He asked her, pain in his eyes. 

“That feels contradictory.” 

“I mean, I would rather have them as I do than not have them at all,” he explained. Donna sighed and sat next to him, looking at him sympathetically. 

“I don't think I could live without them,” he sighed, burying his head in his hands. 

The scene faded, and you were left with the Doctor’s face looking at you worriedly. You hadn’t realized you were crying until he wiped the tears from your face. 

“Are you ok?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern. He hadn’t wanted to upset you further. That was the opposite of his intentions.

You smiled at him. You weren't crying from sadness, or even anxiety like before. No, these were happy tears. Happy that it was real, that the Doctor really loved you. It was everything you had ever wanted.

You threw your arms around the doctor, holding tightly onto him. 

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear. You felt it was about time you said it. 

“I love you too,” the Doctor sighed like it was a breath he had been holding in. 

“So, so much,” he shook his head, wrapping his arms around your waist. He lifted you off the ground ceremoniously, swinging you back and forth gently. 

You laughed lightly, pulling back to look at his face. 

“Say it again,” you smiled, relishing in the feeling of his words.

“I love you,” he smiled back, and you knew he meant it. 

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’m at my desk trying to focus on writing code for our game, but it’s slow going. Distracted by my own thoughts, I find myself staring out the window in front of me more often than not while my fingers rest on the keyboard. Ash sits patient and unbothered on my bed, playing on my Switch while he waits for me to finish.

We’re quieter today than usual, both of us tired and mildly hungover from the night before, but still determined to make some progress today.

I try my best to clear my mind, to focus on the screen in front of me and listen to the music coming from my Lin-Z speaker, quietly singing along and bouncing my leg anxiously to the beat. Every once in a while, Ash chimes in, singing a line or two along with me, and I realize how often I make him put up with my playlist even though he much prefers his own. But I have a specific one that helps me when I work, so he usually doesn’t protest too much.

As I sing the lyrics to Your Silent Face for about the thousandth time in my life, and still never tiring of it, I hear Ash join me in singing the last line, “You’ve caught me at a bad time. So, why don’t you piss off,” and we both chuckle under our breath. Over time it’s become a joke between us, ever since the day he walked up to me at work to invite me out for a drink and caught me singing the line aloud.

I think about that night at the bar often. Sitting in the dark corner, like we were in our own world, nothing in the universe existing but the two of us, talking until the bar closed. I remember how disappointed I was when we were eventually forced to leave, how nervous I was as we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. And I’ll never forget the first time that I kissed him.

I can’t help but wonder where we’d be now if I’d let things continue, if I hadn’t gotten in my head and panicked, if I hadn’t pushed him away. And I want nothing more than to set things right.

As he sits behind me on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about the last time he was there and the words he said to me. I wish I’d handled it differently. I want to take it all back. To tell him he was right. But I don’t know how. Ash is the easiest person in the world to talk to, and yet, every time I think of opening my mouth to say anything I have a deep sense of dread that it will come out all wrong, that I’ll somehow make everything worse by doing so.

“I have a question.” The sound of Ash’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I stop typing, suddenly nervous, though I’m not sure why.

“What’s up?”

“The whole I-don’t-date-people-I-work-with thing, is that for real? Or is it your way of letting me down gently?”

I’m a bit confused by his question. Could he really think I’m not into him and just saying that to spare his feelings? “No, I meant it.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

I get up from my desk and walk over to join him on the bed as I think about how to answer. I hate that I suddenly feel the need to defend an argument that I don’t fully believe, but what else am I supposed to do? Say never mind, I was full of shit? Or actually I’ve changed my mind, let’s forget about it. I can’t do that. So, I give a reason, and secretly hope he makes a solid rebuttal that will give me the opening I need to take it back, “It’s messy,” I say, “Like, if we get in a fight or break up, and still have to work together, it’s just—”

“Messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...” he stands and walks over to my bookshelf, looking over it like he’s suddenly very interested in my old worn-out copies of Tolkien books. I have a tendency to reread the same books, the same way I listen to the same songs over and over. I suppose I find comfort in the familiar. Maybe even more so than most. I’m tempted to make a comment about it, but I know Ash well enough by now to know that he’s not interested in the books, that he’s thinking carefully about what he wants to say next, so I wait. Eventually, he turns back to me, “So, if we didn’t work together…?”

“Then, it’d be different.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he walks over. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me, his legs between mine. He tilts his head to the side curiously, “Different how? Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s pretend for, say, five minutes, that we don’t work together.” He leans forward, bringing his hand up to my cheek, his face mere inches from mine, the spices from the chai tea he drank on his way over still lingering on this breath, and I feel a rush of heat fill my face and neck as if the very nearness of him has set me alight.  

“Five minutes?”

“Mhm,” he grins, “Five minutes. What would you do differently?” His eyes take on that playful glimmer that makes my heart race. I know that look. He knows I know that look. And it all goes to my head until all I can think about is pulling him back onto the bed with me.  

 “Set a timer.”

He smiles as he pulls his phone from his pocket, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my cheek as he slides his thumb over the screen before turning it around to show me it’s set for exactly 05:00. “Starting… now,” he presses the green button and tosses it onto the bed.

I waste no time, reaching for him as soon as the phone leaves his hand, and pulling him with me as I lie back. He falls on top of me with a startled laugh.

I don’t have the luxury of taking things slowly, of savoring each second the way I normally would. Instead, I roll him over and kiss him fiercely. Our legs intertwine, and I hold him as close to me as I can, wishing we’d had time to remove our clothes so I could feel his skin against mine.

Our kisses become deep and passionate, and I start to resent the timer counting down, my awareness of it preventing me from fully giving in to the moment. I’m tempted to reach over and turn it off, but I can’t do that, so instead I move my lips to his jaw, following the path of his birthmark and burying my face in his neck wishing I could pause time through sheer will alone.

And then the timer goes off. A series of loud beeps brings the room back into focus, and we pull away, breathless and laughing.

“Time’s up,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbow.

“Damn. I should’ve gone for an hour.”

“That would’ve been dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” I laugh as he pushes me away playfully so he can get to his phone, still beeping behind us.

The sounds of Blue Monday coming from the speaker take the place of the alarm as he shuts it off and slides the phone back into his pocket. “Okay, well,” he looks over at me, “you’ve convinced me.”

Convinced him? I suddenly feel as though I’ve missed something along the way. “Convinced you of what?”

“I’ll put in my notice on Monday.”

Everything inside me halts. My heart, my breath, every cell in my body stopping in their tracks. “You’re not serious.”

He shrugs as though what he’s saying is no big deal, “Why not? It’s just a job. I’ll find another one. Question is, is that enough? Or are you gonna make me wait the two weeks until I’m actually gone?”

My body restarts again, overcorrecting and going into overdrive, panicking at the idea of him leaving, of not seeing him every day. Getting coffee, going for walks, eating lunch, telling stupid inside jokes over IM and hearing him laugh from across the room… all of it… ending. “I… I don’t want you to quit.”

“Well, if you won’t let me be both, then I choose boyfriend over co-worker.”

“Wh- boyfriend?” A fresh wave of anxiety pours over me at the word. I mean, I get it, we’re obviously not just friends, I don’t think we ever have been, and we’re clearly incapable of being casual, at least with each other, so boyfriend makes sense, but hearing him say the word only reminds me of how incompetent and inexperienced I am when it comes to real relationships.

“Or am I just a piece of ass?”

“What?! No, of course not, it’s not like that.”

“What’s the problem then?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. My head spins, scrambling to come up with something... I can’t let him quit his job just to be with me. It’s too much. And I don’t want to not work with him. But I can’t tell him I want him to stay and be with me. Not after all the time I’ve spent insisting he can’t. Even if I could, I have no idea how to be his boyfriend. Not for real. But isn’t this exactly what I wanted?

I have to find a way to talk to him, but the longer I stay silent, the harder it is to find the words as they get crowded out by the growing chaos of conflicting thoughts swirling around my head like an out-of-control Tilt-A-Whirl.

Next to me, I feel his shoulders slump, and I know I’ve let him down… again. “Right.” He says this as if my silence has told him everything he needs to know. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Atlas," he sighs, "I’m tired of the mixed signals. I wish you could just be honest with me. When you're ready to do that, let me know. But I’m not going to wait around much longer. I can’t.”

I reach for him as he gets up to leave, “Ash, wait.”

But he shrugs me off, “Nah,” and continues out the door.

Once he’s gone, I lie down on the bed wondering how the hell I’ve managed to fuck this up yet again.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think I could do things differently.

And, if that’s the case, maybe it’s time I let him go.

As this realization sinks in, I feel my heart start to break, slowly at first, small fissures splintering, then shattering all at once as I stare silently at the floor, my throat tightening as my body tries desperately to remember how to cry, to give some kind of cathartic release for the pain. But, just like me, it fails yet again.

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Can we get a poly plastics fic where Regina is angry with Gretchen, Karen and Reader for messing up a plan of hers? The 3 of them literally have a meeting at Gretchen’s on how they’re gonna make it up to Regina m. Then the 3 of them basically spoil Regina for the weekend with nice activities, affection and loveeee. Regina deliberately dragged out her anger, because she knew her girlfriends would want to make it up to her

Whatever the Queen Wanted

|| poly!plastics x fem!reader

(I myself am poly)

|| Warnings; Regina being controlling, plastics and reader making it up to her, completely Regina centered (lmk if i missed one)

|| Summary; Regina George was mad at her girlfriends. For why? She couldn't remember, but she knew her girlfriends would spoil her to make it up. So she kept up her act.

Requests open!

Started; october 7th

Finished; october 7th

~~~

At this point, Regina couldn't even remember why she had been angry with her girlfriends in the first place. That wasn't going to stop her from keeping up her angry act, though. She knew her girlfriends would do anything to keep her happy, so she was going to use that to her advantage.

She'd spent the better half of the day completely ignoring them. Texts, calls, conversation attempts. All of it. So Gretchen, Karen and you had a meeting about it.

"She's really upset with us," You sighed, setting your phone down beside you on Gretchen's bed after another failed attempt at getting ahold of Regina.

"She like, can't stay mad forever right?" Gretchen was really getting worried; knowing full well that a mad Regina was dangerous.

"I'm gonna tell her she's pretty." Karen said as she picked up her phone, tapping away at her screen. Gretchen sighed and laid back on her bed, trying to come up with anything to fix this.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, so we'll have a full day where we can just focus on Regina. Maybe we can start the morning with like going to a café for breakfast and then seeing what she wants to do from there?" Gretchen suggested, feeling like the plan was a little weak but it was better than nothing.

"She ignored me," Karen pouted and looked at the two of you. Looking ready to cry because Regina ignored her text. Purposely leaving it on 'read'.

Gretchen's attention switched to Karen and she sat up again, pulling her into her arms. "Oh, mama it isn't your fault. Shh," she soothed, gently rubbing the girl's arm with her thumb.

You felt bad for Karen and decided to try and get ahold of Regina again. You sent her a text, letting her know of tomorrow's plans for meeting in their favourite café. Hoping that she would bother to show up. You really just wanted things to be good between all of you again.

Saturday rolled around. You, Gretchen and Karen were seated in your usual spot. The back corner booth, next to the window. You sat on one side, while the girls were on the other. Arms linked and staying close to each other. Every time the café door opened, you looked to see who was coming through. And every time, it wasn't Regina.

The three of you waited almost half an hour and Gretchen was about to suggest you give up, when a familiar blonde walked in. She scanned the café, then found the three of you and made her way over. Arms folded across her chest in a way that made it almost impossible for you not to stare.

"Regina," You murmured, a smile tugging at your lips as she sat silently beside you. Anger in her eyes.

You didn't care though. You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close, giving her a kiss that was filled with emotions. Trying to remind her that you still loved her. At first she didn't kiss back and even pulled away, but the pout you made made her sigh and kiss you again. When she broke the kiss, she bit your lip to get a sound out of you then looked over at Karen and Gretchen. Karen looked extremely happy to see Regina, Gretchen was happy too but she was more on edge. Being extra cautious. She's dealt with her fair share of angry Regina's and wanted to tread lightly.

"Regina... we're so sorry. I know you had this plan and you wanted it go perfectly- we completely messed up so we're gonna make it up to you! A full day of anything you want completely on the three of us," Gretchen rambled, gesturing between you, Karen and herself.

Regina stayed quiet. Almost uncomfortably so for a long time, long enough that you had to check your phone to see what time it even was. When she'd finally spoke, the three of you were completely relieved," fine. Y/N, by me a coffee." Her tone was a little harsh, still trying to pretend to be upset. You'd almost flinched but nodded, desperate to make it up to the blonde.

You got up from the booth and made your way to the front, getting Regina a large with everything you knew she liked. Once you had the coffee, you walked back over and handed it to your girlfriend. Giving her a kiss and sliding back into the booth beside her.

She took a sip and seemed to think for a moment, then gave a small nod of approval. It was almost hard to stay mad at you when you'd remember her favourite; down to every last particular detail. And there were a lot.

"I'm still mad." Regina said, which made you pout.

"How?" You groaned, realizing the three of you had a lot of groveling to do. Regina tried not to smirk, not wanting you all to get any hints that she actually wasn't mad anymore.

Regina folded her arms and let the anger rest in her gaze as she looked at the three of you, "I guess you'll just have to figure it out yourselves."

"We were thinking we could spend the day following you? Going wherever you wanted to go?" Gretchen brought up, hoping to maybe get Regina's interest.

She seemed to think on it again, going over the possibilities in her head." Alright. Then let's go to the ice cream shop down the street."

"Ice cream for breakfast!" Karen clapped, seeming rather happy about that thought. You raised an eyebrow at Regina but didn't question it. Whatever the Queen wanted.

The morning seemed to go on slowly as the three of you worked together to give Regina the best. Starting with the ice cream shop, all of you pitching in to pay for her ice cream. Of course she got the most expensive option. After that, she dragged all of you to the mall to get herself a new outfit. You and Gretchen pitched in for this one since Karen didn't have a whole lot and you didn't want her spending everything. You glanced at Gretchen, having a silent conversation with her through your eyes.

We're gonna go broke.

You both seemed to think. Regina was feeling pretty good about the Princess treatment.

"Alright, I got what I want from here. There's a pizza place down the road, we're gonna go try it." She said, leading the way. The three of you following close behind the blonde.

When you got there the place was decently packed, everyone wanting to give it a try. The hostess lead you all to a table and handed each of you the menu. Though all of you let Regina pick what she wanted, deciding to just share that.

Your order soon arrived and you picked up a slice, facing Regina with a smirk. "Open your mouth, beautiful."

She raised an eyebrow but did as told, letting you feed the pizza to her. Gretchen snapped a picture for instagram later, smiling as she looked at it. It was cute.

Regina seemed pretty satisfied with being fed the slice.

The rest of the weekend would continue to go like this, until about Sunday night. All of you laid in Regina's massive bed. You trailing light kisses along her arm while Karen played with Regina's hair and Gretchen cuddled her. Regina let out a contented sigh," okay. You're forgiven."

All of you couldn't be more relieved. Especially you and Gretchen, whose wallets had done more begging for forgiveness than you had done to Regina.

[coeurcanelle]

DONT PLAY ANIMAL CROSSING AT 3AM

horror au

playing animal crossing was all fun and games with ellie until events happening in the game turned out to happen in real life

->inspired by a short movie on yt

A/N:sorry for the long break,I went to the beach and lost my right arm because of a damn shark. Specialists say they want to know how human flesh tastes, but it bit my whole arm off 😵‍💫. Anyway, I’ve learned to write with my left hand so I can still cook 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

Rainy days were your favorite.

They gave you and Ellie an excuse to stay indoors and play video games for hours on end.

After playing the same games repeatedly, growing emotionally attached to them, Ellie convinced you to give a try to something different from your usual apocalypse-themed games.

Halloween was tomorrow and ellie judged it to be the perfect time to introduce you to Animal Crossing's latest spooky update, a game you had never tried before.

"it's not traumatizing-scary, but I thought if I like it, you would too," Ellie said as she turned on her Nintendo Switch, a gift Joel had given her for her last birthday.

Often, she would gift you video games from her own massive collection, which hadn't gotten her into the Guinness World Records yet, but it might one day.

It was your favorite hobby together, a shared passion that easily brought you closer.

"you know what I like. If it's not pee-your-pants scary, it's deadly boring," you stated clearly as you made yourself comfortable next to her on her bed, lying flat on your stomach, propping yourself on your elbows as your eyes darted to her screen, the game just starting.

"oh yeah? we'll see about that. I bet ten bucks you'll get so addicted, you won't wanna go home tonight," Ellie said with a confident smirk, pressing 'play' as she seized the opportunity to have you to herself for longer than usual.

The screen flashed, revealing Ellie's character in a virtual room. "just watch me," she muttered, focusing on the screen as she led her character out of the room with a joystick.

Her character entered a clothing shop, trying on brand new clothes.

"I'll let you know that having no taste is a symptom of covid" you teased, followed by Ellie's soft chuckle.

She was used to your constant teasing but never grew tired of it.

"alright, try to make her look hot. we're going to see who’s going to need to get their health checked."

You smiled in victory, pleased to get a chance to play on her Switch.

"alright, bet" you said, going through every option available, trying your best to give Ellie's avatar a brand-new Halloween costume.

After a while, your lips curved into a smile as you admired her avatar in a cute, spooky witch costume.

But when you tried to buy the costume, your face fell in disappointment at the sight of Ellie's in-game money.

"man, she's broke af. that's why she looks so hideous. I can't even make her glow up, that's so sad."

"hey, take that back...as long as she's got clothes on, it's fine." Ellie said, taking back her Switch and removing the costume you were eager to buy.

You rested your head in your hand, already feeling exhausted, when suddenly, a loud, deep rolling growl pulled you out of your trance, followed by increasing pouring rain.

"looks like you're stuck with me tonight,"ellie smiled cheerfully, already plotting to stay up all night.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Halloween was only after a night, right after the full moon, but the spooky vibe that accompanied it came early today.

Both of you had turned the lights off, total darkness enveloping you, with the rain pouring and spooky sounds coming from the game as background noise.

You and Ellie took turns exploring the city and completing Halloween quests, distracting yourselves from the menacing storm that didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

That is until another storm struck, slightly shaking Ellie's house and almost blinding you with the flashes of lightning outside the windows.

Now, the rain was pouring softly.

It was the calm before the next storm.

Turning your attention back to the game, the first thing you saw was Ellie's character momentarily freezing as the screen quickly flickered.

Ellie looked at you to see if you found this as creepy as she did.

"so, still boring as fuck miss apocalypse?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"a jumpscare here and there won't hurt"

A laugh escaped Ellie's lips. "bro, this is 'Animal Crossing,' not Freddy and his friends or whatever."

"Freddy and who?" A look of confusion on your face didn't betray your words.

"Freddy and his friends," she exclaimed, her gaze averted, trying to use her brain that's rotting from playing all the time. "the bear dude who scares kids or something. I dunno, I haven't played that stuff."

"that's FNAF, girl."you corrected, looking at Ellie puzzled. Between the two of you, you always assumed Ellie to be a game nerd.

"yeah, whatever," she said.

Now that you mentioned it, she actually remembered playing it but somehow forgot about it.

Your eyes drifted from Ellie's to her screen, which had stopped flickering, noticing many details.

"You know, I don't know how you managed to do that, but.."

Many details you've never paid attention to before.

"It's really cool how you got an exact copy of your bedroom in there," you said, looking back at Ellie, impressed.

Ellie’s eyes fell on the screen as she listened.

Her eyebrows furrowed suddenly.

She had never noticed too.

In fact, she had never decorated her in-game room with the intention of making it look like her real-life room.

As if trying to make her memories clearer, she scratched the back of her head, trying to think back to when she decorated her room in the game.

"uh, thanks. I never tried to make it look like my room, though."

"you even got the Savage Starlight poster on your wall," you pointed out, looking at her screen curiously before glancing at the same poster in real life, which was in the exact same spot in the game.

Though you were absolutely amazed by this, Ellie felt anything but impressed.

A feeling of unease started to creep up inside her.

No matter how much time she had spent in that game, she never recalled getting this poster.

This was undeniably weird, but it's only in such an atmosphere that things start to get interesting.

It was just a game after all.

"yeah, I think that's how I got broke," an awkward laugh escaped her lips, ignoring how hot she suddenly felt.

With shaky hands, Ellie wandered around her in-game room, which was just as dark as the one in real life.

To lighten it up, she walked towards the lamp on her bedside table, noticing it was placed just like in reality.

After looking at the bedside table, she focused her attention on her screen again and pushed a button to turn on the lamp.

At that moment, a quick 'click' sound echoed in the room, instantly drawing both your and Ellie's attention.

The bright lamp was flickering, casting shadows behind it.

You felt Ellie's eyes on you and turned to look at her, wondering if you both saw the same thing.

"you did that, didn't you?" Ellie asked, eager for a rational explanation for this unusual moment.

"no, I didn't," you exclaimed. The bedside table was just to your left, but your arms remained flat on the bed.

Even if you wanted to scare her, you couldn't have been that creative.

However,your words weren't convincing enough for her to believe them.

Still trying to figure out what was happening between her game and her room, she decided to try something again.

"stay here and don't move," Ellie ordered, to which you nodded and obeyed.

The drawer next to her closet drew her attention.

Her eyes fell back on her game, staring at the same drawer.

You watched Ellie's every move, your nervousness increasing as her finger pressed a button.

It was inevitable.

The drawer opened in the game.

The drawer opened in real life.

A mix of confusion and excitement flashed across Ellie's face as virtual and reality made one.

Thrilled by the turn of events, she turned to face you.

"now this is getting creepy as fuck," Ellie said, talking to you but becoming self-conscious about one thing.

You weren't alone anymore.

"yeah, this feels like the first minutes of a horror movie, but not the shitty low-quality serial killer ones—"

"the crazy haunted ones that leave you paranoid with 'inspired by a true story' in their summary."

"we're definitely in some 'bury your gays' type shit."

Ellie's soft laugh contrasted with the eerie atmosphere. No matter how serious the situation was, you were still able to make her laugh.

A part of her still clung to denial, seeking any rational explanation, but... where's the fun in that?

Was it scary because it was cool?

Or was it cool because it was scary?

Either way, this mystery was eager to be solved. Unsure of where all of this would lead, Ellie gave in to the temptation to discover it.

You decided to keep playing.

She then walked toward her in-game guitar, which was placed in the exact same spot in real life, right beside her desk.

Your eyes drifted toward it while Ellie was focused on her screen.

This was getting more and more interesting.

She pushed one button,making her character picking up the guitar.

As mini-ellie strummed the chords, you and her noticed something about the sound.

The melody wasn't coming from her Switch.

It echoed from her guitar in the corner of her room.

You couldn't believe your eyes,your ears and your mind.

In denial, you were convinced you were dreaming. But when you pinched your skin multiple times, nothing changed.

Ellie looked at you, seeking confirmation that this wasn't all in her head, a sign of her insanity.

"I'm starting to believe there's someone here with us," you said, your worried eyes meeting hers.

"you're just realizing that now?" she smirked.

You crossed your arms protectively, feeling thrilled by the game despite how scary it was becoming. "I'm actually surprised you still haven't peed your pants."

"trust me, it'll take more than that to freak me out like you."

"be careful what you wish for," you warned, feeling and fearing that something was about to happen.

In the dark,where fear and curiosty reigned over all your emotions,it was the comfort place for one thing.

The storm had calmed down for a while, but the rain continued pouring relentlessly.

Each droplet hit Ellie's closed windows, the sound resembling someone knocking.

Now you don't know how that spirit managed to stroll across the windows, but you knew that it got her.

It got Ellie.

With wide white eyes and mouth parted open, her body was entirely frozen, unresponsive to your calls.

The evil had total control over her body.

At least, that's what she made you want to believe.

After slightly shaking her to make her stop, you thought of her biggest weakness, something that always worked when she'd try to prank you like this.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA," Ellie panted as you tickled her sides, desperately trying to push you away from her before she fell off the bed,head hitting the floor.

Worried, you put a hand over your mouth at the scene. "oh my... are you alright?"

"would be better if you help me back up,"you reached out a hand that she carefully took, before helping her to lay back on the bed.

This is what she gets for trying to scare the hell out of you, always using the same old prank that only worked once on you.

When you were worried about her head, she was shamelessly laughing.

"you know what? laugh while you can. we'll see if you laugh once you wake up in the flames of hell after I choked you in your sleep."

"wow... nice charming words, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?" Ellie snickered as she saw you rolling your eyes at her.

The banter kept going, from playfully nudging each other's arm to pushing each other, as if nothing creepy had happened earlier.

That is, until your hands grabbed the Nintendo, back on the game.

Now that the virtual and reality have united, your careless laughter could easily turn into cold-blooded fear.

Ellie mirrored your wide eyes as she spotted the visual confirmation that both of you weren't alone.

Behind her character stood something in the dark.

Something because it was indeed not a human.

Its body blended with the color of death, or perhaps it was the other way around.

The darkness's arms warmly embraced its sinister presence.

The color of its eyes was the only hue transcending through the darkness in the room.

They were red—red like pumping blood and Persephone's pomegranate. Not leaving the character’s body.

Its eyes were able to pierce through the darkness, as if its life was too fierce to be halted by death.

Because it was death itself.

Ellie's eyes turned to you instinctively, seeking confirmation that it wasn’t part of her imagination.

You returned the same gaze, but not effortlessly. This unexpected turn of events made your mind run laps of thoughts and your body freeze in place.

With the same thought, "Is it behind us?" echoing over and over, the silence grew too loud, nurturing your frightened state.

Then.

The door creaked.

The one behind you and Ellie.

Your eyes remained on hers, with fear enveloping every single last spark of excitement and amusement.

"It's just the wind, right?" you managed to whisper.

Ellie still understood you despite your shaky voice, mimicking the same tone as yours. "the windows are closed."

That wasn't the first time rationality couldn't explain the strange events around you.

You were just afraid it wouldn't be the last time either.

Suddenly, a message appeared on the screen.

As your curious eyes returned to the screen despite the fear slowly consuming you, another feeling began to take over.

"Don't. Look. Behind. You."

It was regret.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

can I req yandere Ben x reader moodboard and headcanons? I feel like he watches you through your computer camera

-🦇 anon

Summary: Yandere Ben drowned x reader hcs

Genre: Angsty-ish?? nothing too bad though

Warnings: Yandere themes, so stalking, murder, obsession, etc.

A/n: 🦇 is no longer here, so if you wanna take this anon name feel free to do so! Also AGH I LOVE WRITING YANDERE STUFF

Credits: Ben drowned- Creepypasta, Divider- benkeibear, Drawing of Ben- shatteredankles (instagram), Other pictures- Pinterest

Yandere Ben drowned hcs

The thing with Ben is, he's so nonchalant with everything he does, it takes a lot to get him to show any emotion

So when he gets obsessed, he gets OBSESSED

He has a knack for finding people, switching between random people's webcams trying to find a specific person for a mission

But as he mindlessly clicks through different lists of different people, pulling up any names that intrigue him, he finds you

Immediately he is drawn to you, he doesn't know why, but he is

And when he sees your face, so focused on the task at hand, he knows he needs you

He doesn't know how he needs you, or how he even thinks he's going to go about acquiring you, but something about you entrances him

After his death he's so used to feeling numb and disconnected from the world, both physically and emotionally

But seeing you there, it makes him feel things again, as if he were alive again

And he doesn't want to stop this feeling

So he stares and watches you through your webcam for hours, his prior mission being totally forgotten

That is, until you suddenly yawn, stretch, and turn your computer off

He jumps a little at the sudden blank screen, and quickly rushes to see if you have your phone on

Frantically typing and clicking, he breathes a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding when he finally finds your phone and looks through it's camera

Even though its screen isn't on, the phone itself is, so he can still see you

That is, until you plug it in and set it on the nightstand beside you

Then all he sees is the ceiling

He sighs and rubs his eyes before putting your phone's window on another monitor and going back to the task at hand

Once done, he begins to research you a little more (making sure to have windows open for any cameras you may have in your house)

He learns your home address, where you go to work, your full legal name, social security number, interests, hobbies, etc

By the time you wake up and begin getting ready for the day, he feels like he has known you for years instead of just a few hours

When he sees your phone camera start to move he gets so excited, hurrying to bring the window over to his main monitor and watch you as you go about your morning routine

He watches you nonstop for weeks straight, only stopping when you go to sleep and he can no longer see you, but even then, he fills that time with researching you or scrolling your socials

It is only when Jeff is in his room a week later that he even thinks of the possibility of being something with you

Jeff is annoyed by the fact that all Ben's been doing for a solid month now is obsessing over you, so with a big groan he says "If you like them so much, go get em! What're they gonna do, say no? You're a ghost man!"

Only then does Ben realize that he is actually dead, and can basically have you all he wants

He doesn't have to watch you through cameras, because he can make himself invisible and spy on you that way instead

If you got scared, it's not like you could hurt him in any way, because you'd phase right through him

And best of all, if anyone tries to interfere with you and him, he could easily scare them off

So with this new knowledge, he sets off in search of you

Which of course, isn't far considering he already knows exactly where you live

And every day for months, he follows you around everywhere you go, never more than a foot away from you

Your friends have picked up on something strange, and are very uncomfortable being around you now

Whenever they're around you, they get a weird feeling in their gut telling them that something isn't right, oftentimes your hair randomly just starts floating as if someone is playing with it, and your apartment is always just so cold....

This being said, you are now very isolated and lonely

Ben sees his chance in this, and begins leaving you little gifts, things he knows you'd like

Once you get accustomed to the gifts, he begins leaving letters, slowly revealing who he is, and his love for you

At first you are just happy to have someone that likes you despite how uncomfortable everyone seems to be around you

Then it evolves into curiosity over the identity of this strange person

And then, you begin to feel the beginnings of a romantic interest starting to bloom for this stranger

It is only once you are obsessed with figuring out who he is, sometimes coming home and just begging into the air for them to reveal themselves, because you know they're with you somewhere, does he dare reveal himself

You are on your hands and knees, begging and pleading for him to just give you a hint as to who he is "I won't tell anyone" you promise

It is then that you feel the familiar cold chill go up your spine, and you know he is near

You don't speak or move, scared you'll upset him into silence in some way

You then hear a voice by your ear whisper "Cross your heart and hope to die?"

You gasp at the new information you have: a voice

"Yes" You whisper back

A hand begins to fade into view, and it comes to cover your mouth to stop you from screaming

You then feel a body form behind you, his other hand coming to rest on your hip, pulling you into his body

He's as cold as death and slightly translucent, and as you turn to look into a reflective surface, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, you are stopped when you feel him begin to nibble on your ear

"You'll get to see me soon, princess/prince. All you have to do is keep true to that promise"

And with that he fades away, as if he was never there

[captain-mj]

not really scary but:

Ghost n Roach watching a horror movie and something sets off Roach’s PTSD (we all know bud’s riddled with it) but hw doesn’t wanna say anything casue Ghost looks like he’s enjoying the movie? so like maybe ghost notices and roach gets wrapped in a blanket and held?

no pressure! love your writing <3

:)

Ghost had accepted he would be watching his favorite horror movies alone. He planned to newest Halloween, Scream and Prey. He liked a lot of the other ones but he didn't have time to watch a lot of movies so he wanted to catch up on those series.

So he settled on the hotel bedroom and relaxed. They were stationed there for a while and apparently the barracks hadn't had any places. It was the only reason he felt comfortable doing this technically on duty. He got through the newest Halloween movie before he got a knock on the door.

Ghost turned the tv off completely just in case and checked through the window outside to see who it was, not trusting the peephole. He saw Roach looking at the window, hands in gloves holding to cups from the local coffeeshop. He had a thick coat and wool hat on, but he still looked pitifully cold out in the snow.

With a sigh, he opened the door. "Gary."

Roach was smiling under his mask. "Simon. Your usual."

Ghost grabbed it and checked the tag. It was the large version, but yes, it was his usual. He had went every day over the past few weeks trying each drink until he found his favorite. He had them add whip cream to it and it was perfect. "Thanks Bug."

With the offering given, Ghost moved out of the way and let Roach in. They had only recently started to work together and a few missions and two times hanging out in a group didn't exactly make them best buddies. But he wouldn't leave him out in the cold.

"What brings you here?"

Roach looked up at him and then pointed to his movies. He started to pull his gloves off.

"I believe I said I would be watching a few movies alone."

"Oh. I thought it was an invitation..." Roach signed, shaking his hands to indicate trailing off in what was possibly the funniest way to make sure Ghost understood him.

"It wasn't. But... since you're here. Mask doesn't go over the nose." He took a deep drink and sat down, turning his tv back on. It restarted the movie, but he didn't care, just meant he didn't have to.

Roach sat next to Ghost. They fell into a comfortable silence while watching the movie. Well, it was definitely comfortable for Ghost.

Roach would occasionally glance over, eyes running along the tattoos that just barely peaked out around the collar of Ghost's shirt. It made Ghost reach up to adjust it, leaving the tattoos more exposed. If Roach wanted to stare, he'd let him at least see the full design of the Death's-head hawkmoth that was there.

To the actual movie, Ghost was intrigued. The yautja was fighting a bear and although it was upsetting to see it kill the animal, it was an interesting scene. He didn't blame Roach for closing his eyes during it.

Ghost took another sip of his drink, letting his focus fall away from Roach. He was his teammate, he was sure he could take care of himself.

Naru had just been put in the cage by the French and the cup of coffee Roach brought ran empty. Roach had been quiet for a while, but he wasn't too worried about it. Bug was always quiet.

Ghost glanced over anyway, just to make sure.

Roach's face had turned to a pale white and his eyes were glued to the screen. His hands white knuckled the couch, a tremor in them.

"Roach?"

"..."

"Gary?" Ghost tried, seeing Roach jump and glance at him. He blushed and glanced away. "You okay?"

Roach gave a very shaky thumbs up which was all Ghost needed to pause the movie.

"You can be honest with me. Cages bad for you?" Ghost got up and grabbed a blanket.

Roach nodded and looked at his hands. He only glanced back up when Ghost put the blanket around him. His big brown eyes blinked up at Ghost.

"Bug, do you want to switch to a different movie?"

Roach shook his head and tapped the couch next to him. Ghost settled back down and Roach leaned into him. He leaned over and pressed play before settling back with Ghost.

They watched in silence for a long while. Roach stopped paying attention, instead looking at Ghost's tattoos.

His fingers gently found their way to them, tracing them.

Ghost shivered under his ministrations. "What are you doing?"

Roach quickly put his hands back in his lap before being pulled back by Ghost. "Didn't say you had to stop."

Roach's cheeks turned a deep red as he traced his tattoos with the very tips of his fingers again.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bateman Begins Part 41

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Notes: We haven't had Nathan's perspective in a while, so. Enjoy! 🦇🖤 Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader Rating: M Warnings: Angst?

It isn't the first time that Nathan has disappeared, but that doesn't make the experience any more pleasant.

He glances over, doing a double-take as Alfred rouses on his charging pad.

"Good, you're up," Nathan mutters.

"Where are we?"

"The facility where I created you."

"Why are we here?"

Nathan grits his teeth, gaze set on the computer screen in front of him as he fights off a wave of irritation.

"Did something go wrong?" Alfred prods, and damnit—what hadn't gone wrong?

The last year and a half has been hell.

You had left, Vicki Vale had gotten a little too close to his secret, and a clown gang had begun to wreak havoc in Gotham City.

Whatever intel Vale had was somehow passed to the clowns and to whoever they were working for, which had sent them right to Bateman Manor

The only way Nathan could get out of there in time had been to suit up and ditch, but the police had been alerted to the situation

Nathan knew he was screwed when he was seen leaping out of the window

It had all been downhill from there

Nathan wasn't sure how he was going to spin this one to the press. He hadn't returned as himself or as Batman—not for two weeks.

To make matters worse, the facility's power had been winking on and off since they had arrived.

There was a faulty switch that he couldn't identify that was constantly sending them on lock down.

Alfred needed a significant amount of power to charge, and he had only just managed to flip back on after losing power during the drive.

Nathan had spent six solitary days trying to track down the faulty spoke in the system, and failing to log in to the Manor's security system.

He had no way of seeing what was happening. The cops were surely picking over everything.

What if they found their way into the cave? What if they found his gear?

What if they found your scrapped designs? There was still a wastebasket full of them in the blue room.

Alfred had tried to throw them out over and over again, but Nathan wouldn't let him.

He didn't know why he was holding on to them, anyway.

You were clearly never coming back, and it wasn't as if you'd need them.

Still, you had some great ideas in there.

He hadn't been surprised by that. You always had great ideas.

"Approximately how long have we been here, sir?"

The question shakes Nathan from his thoughts. He keeps his gaze trained on the screens in front of him as he hears Alfred shifting to stand behind him.

"Few days."

"And how long shall we be here for?"

"Look, just—Cut it with the fucking questions, alright?" Nathan pulls his glasses off, dropping them onto the desk before scrubbing his tired eyes with his palms. "I'm trying to think."

Alfred falls silent obediently, and Nathan feels a pang of regret for his tone.

"Keep charging," Nathan orders as he stands, putting his glasses back on. "I need you full power if I decide to go back."

"What's the alternative?"

"I'm working on it."

--

"FUCK!"

The yell leaves him roughly as the power on the stove switches off, plunging the kitchen into red light.

Nathan slams his fist roughly on the counter, drawing in a deep breath as he fought to steady himself.

Calm down, you big baby.

He can't help but hear your admonishment in his head.

He sighs softly, straightening up and reaching for the kettle. It's just hot enough for a mug's worth.

He pours some into his mug, watching the steam rise.

Where are you right now?

Nathan has spent the last year and a half wondering.

His mind has drifted to you over and over, whether he wanted it to or not:

At Giselle's parties—

At the office—

Driving the tumbler—

Sliding out of bed, careful not to rouse Vicki as he removed his arm from beneath her shoulders—

And now, alone in a locked-down kitchen, he tries to picture where you could possibly be.

Probably in some run-down, cruddy little shack in Metropolis, hunched over your laptop with some grass-green avocados waiting to go ripe in your basket on the counter.

Did you still have the avocado pendant? Did you still wear it?

The thought stabs at a tender part of his chest, and he forces it away.

You may not have ended things amicably, but Nathan is certain that you had at least kept the necklace, even if you don't wear it anymore.

You're too sentimental to pawn your memories.

Nathan reaches into his pocket, drawing his phone out and eyeing the lack of cell reception before unlocking his phone.

He opens the photos, scrolling through them until he finally finds what he's looking for.

He smiles. He can't help it.

You would probably be mortified if you knew that he'd taken a photo of you while you were sleeping.

But you'd just looked so damn peaceful.

He remembers taking the photo: snapping it quickly for fear of rousing you.

And then he'd watched your face twist in fear as you slept, saw your face twist into a mask of fear as you'd awoken from a nightmare.

Nathan's stomach churns at the memory of your eyes opening, then widening as you'd scrambled back at the sight of him.

He'd wanted a memento. He'd given you a panic.

Nathan's eyes skate over your face again before he tucks his phone away.

Wherever you are, he can only hope that you're alright, and keeping out of trouble.

That you're healthy, and comfortable...And goddamn, he hopes you're happy.

When you'd left, he'd been certain that you'd be back fin a month, two, tops

But you hadn't crawled back like he'd expected, and he couldn't bring himself to chase you down.

He'd hated you for a few months, but over time, that anger had melted to resignation.

Fat lot of good letting you go had done him.

He's in the middle of nowhere, struggling to hide his identity, and the media has perpetrated a rumor that he's been kidnapped—by himself.

Nathan glances up as the lights flicker back to normal.

He tucks his phone away, picking up the mug of tea.

He has to figure out a cover story, plan his covert return, send Vicki Vale on a wild goose chase, and work out who's been behind the deadly clown attacks—in that order.

Nathan makes it as far as the hallway before the lights flicker to red again.

He pitches the mug, letting out a frustrated yell loud enough to staunch the sound of it shattering against the wall.

Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @revolution-starter ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburgh ; @brandyllyn ; @missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ; @chattychell ; @lorecraft  ; @thembosapphicclown ; @emotionalsupportbatfamily ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink

[animalcrossingshowdown]

someone sent in this ask and I spent literal hours putting together this tutorial but then it wouldn't let me post it and when I went back into my inbox the ask was gone?? good thing I copy and pasted it, so here it is in its own post

I'm not sure if this will work with programs other than photoshop, but this is how I do it. I know @shinobi-bacon has a tutorial here on how they do it which is pretty different from the way I do it, so if my tutorial is confusing maybe theirs will click with you better lmao. I stole the greenscreen idea from them anyway

SO FIRST, you want your villager on a green screen background. to do this, go to harv's island and use a custom pattern to make the walls and floors bright green. If the villager you're using has green in their design, you'll have to pick a different colour that isn't in their design, but for most villagers green is fine.

if your villager has every colour on them like pietro or stiches then rip you're gonna have to do some manual editing frame by frame. try to choose a colour that doesn't touch the edges of their silhouette too much in that case because it'll make life easier for you

so once you have them in green purgatory, record them doing their emote or whatever. I just use the built-in screen record function that the switch has. press and hold this button to record the last 30 seconds that your switch displayed:

next send that video to your computer and trim off the start of the video so it starts right before a recognizable part of the animation. for this emote I cut it off right before the blink. if you have a slow computer, you'll probably want to trim the end off too so the video is only a little bit longer than one full animation loop

(you can use the video editing software of your preference, I just use quick time player Edit -> Trim)

okay time for photoshop. go File -> Import -> Video Frames to Layers

for "range to import" select "from beginning to end" (or you could skip the last step about trimming the video and select a range here, but I find it kind of finicky), and make sure "make frame animation" is checked

once imported, if it doesn't pop up on it's own, go Window -> Timeline to get your animation at the bottom

click through those frames at the bottom until you find an easily recognizable frame (I chose the first frame where her eyes are closed) and delete all the frames before it. in the layers panel, the layer from the frame you've selected should be the only one turned on. delete all the layers below it

now go through the frames to find the next identical frame. this is where the animation loops. delete that frame and all the frames after it, as well as all of their corresponding layers (note in the picture, frame 121 is selected, and it's exactly the same as the frame from the start of the animation)

hit the play button on the bottom left to double check that it loops properly

next, make sure both THE FIRST FRAME AND BOTTOM LAYER are selected, and crop and reduce the image to your desired size. you can do this step later if you want, it's just that doing it now will reduce the load on your computer and make it run a bit faster. just as long as the first frame and bottom layer are selected, you can do this at any time

SAVE HERE because if you mess up this next part it's a pain to fix, but it's easy to quit and start over if need be

now it's time for my best friend the actions panel !! say hi actions panel !! (Window -> Actions). what the actions panel does is record your steps so you can quickly automate repetitive tasks.

in the actions panel, click the folder and name it whatever you want

then click the little plus and name that whatever you want and hit record. You'll see the dot turn red to indicate that your actions are now being recorded

now with the BOTTOM LAYER AND FIRST FRAME selected (ignore that I have the wrong layer selected in the pictures, I fixed it after), go to Select -> Colour Range

click on a part of the canvas that would be green

shift+click on the rest of the green background and adjust the fuzziness until just the character's silhouette remains

hit OK, now the background should be selected. go Select -> Inverse so that the character is selected, and click on layer mask.

click the next frame button (you MUST click the button, not the actual frame. you need the recording to recognize "go to next frame" and not "select frame 2"),

then keyboard shortcut option + ] to select the next layer up (again, you MUST use the shortcut so it knows to move up one layer and not just "select layer 2"),

and then stop recording.

now just repeatedly click the play button and it will do all those steps we just did for each frame :)

this part is usually where it gets messed up for me. if it did something weird like duplicate the same frame or layer your animation over a static frame, just quit and reopen that save I told you to make earlier. the action recording you just made will still be there when you reopen photoshop, so just select the first frame and bottom layer and repeatedly hit play again. if it STILL doesn't work, you probably did something wrong

the recording is now saved in photoshop forever until you delete it, so you can reuse the recording for other gifs! but if they use a different colour background, you'll need to make a new recording (you can see I have separate ones for blue and purple screens). also if you were working with one of those colourful villagers and parts got masked out that shouldn't have been, you'll have to go frame by frame and manually fix them. that's why we masked out the background instead of deleting it.

now it's time to make it into a gif! go File -> Export -> Save for Web. make sure Matte is set to "none" so you don't get those weird white flecks. colours and dither you want as high as they can go, but you can lower them if you need to make the file smaller (though I'd recommend resizing the image smaller first). the bottom left shows your file size. currently as of January 2024, tumblr allows gifs of up to 10MB

and there ya go! gif! :)

[daechwitatamic]

XI. All of It || KNJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns, eventual and brief smut

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

Being away from home for Christmas makes you re-evaluate the choices you’ve made, and the people you’ve pushed away.

Section Warnings: language, drinking, kissing, one pov switch, big time jumps

WC: 8k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunday December 24th

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Namjoon asks you for the ninetieth time. 

“Namjoon, go,” you laugh. Mrs. Kim is running out to get a few last second groceries, but insists that you stay at the house to “rest”, instead recruiting her son to help her carry everything home. “She’s waiting for you!”

“You could tag along,” he offers. “I know she told you to stay, but she’s not that scary! You can disobey!”

“I absolutely cannot,” you tell him seriously. “It’s fine - you’ll be gone, what, an hour? I can entertain myself.”

He sighs, like he hopes you’re right. “Okay. I’ll try to hurry her along so we’re back sooner.” 

You stretch to kiss him goodbye, and watch as he exits through the kitchen door, loping around the house to where Mrs. Kim waits for him. Then, alone in the kitchen, you face the silence and stillness. 

This is fine, you think. It’s a moment where you don’t have to be on in front of strangers, a moment where you don’t have to watch what you say because his family is forming their impression of you. You stand there for a minute, palms on the cool countertop, just breathing. 

Then, from the other room, you hear something: the unmistakable sound of the opening lines of your favorite, cheesiest Christmas movie. 

You creep to the doorway of the living room. The second he sees you in his periphery, Mr. Kim jumps a mile and scrambles for the remote, rushing to change the channel.

“I’m sorry!” you call, trying to bite back laughter. “I didn’t mean to interrupt - I’ll go do something else!”

His cover blown, he stops scrambling. On the tv screen, a team of flying reindeer pull Santa’s sleigh across the moon as the opening credits run. Mr. Kim hangs his head in shame.

“I will never hear the end of it if they find out I’m watching this,” he tells you. 

“This is my favorite one,” you tell him honestly. “So if you want to leave it on for a while… I promise to take the secret to my grave.”

You sit in comfortable silence in a plushy, blue chair next to the couch, enjoying a garbage holiday indulgence, listening to the crackling fireplace, and watching the snow flurries out the window. And, true to your word, when you hear the front door unlocked, you pull out your phone like you’ve been doom-scrolling for an hour while Mr. Kim turns on the news station.

–

That night you accompany the family to Namjoon’s uncle’s house. It’s big, and bright, and loud, and full of screaming little cousins running underfoot, and aunts that shriek and hug you when Namjoon introduces you as his girlfriend.

“Our Joonie!” one aunt cries, pulling him sideways away from you like that will stop you from hearing her. “She’s beautiful!”

Namjoon winks at you, and tells her, “Smarter than me, too.”

Later, you catch some air together outside. 

“I am not smarter than you,” you tell him adamantly. 

“We can agree to disagree,” he murmurs into your mouth, because he’s already kissing you. 

“Merry Christmas,” he tells you when you break apart, his voice low and soothing, warm and loving. “I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

“Yeah,” you say, snuggling closer into his embrace. Snow falls lightly, as it has on and off all day, landing on your dark winter jackets. “I am, too.”

Monday December 25th

Christmas Day is bittersweet. 

The morning is lovely; Namjoon and his parents exchange a few small gifts and you bat away Mrs. Kim’s apologies that she has nothing for you.

“We keep telling you,” Namjoon laughs, his feet in huge, fluffy slippers that his parents got him, “just send us home with food. Neither of us can cook, it’s a miracle we haven’t starved.”

“Don’t say that to your mother, she’ll worry,” Mr. Kim chides. 

You glance at the clock and notice that it’s about the time that Lin would be getting home from work. Impulsively, you excuse yourself and step back into the guest room, closing the door nearly all the way and pulling out your phone.

Lin answers on the second ring. “Everything okay?” she greets you.

It makes your heart a little heavier. It doesn’t even occur to her that you might be calling just to say Merry Christmas.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you assure her. “I just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas before you went to bed.”

“Oh.” She sounds surprised. “Well, Merry Christmas to you, too. And your boyfriend. Are you having fun?”

You’d shrug if she could see you. “They’ve been really nice,” you tell her. You hesitate, then say, “Hopefully you’ll meet them someday.”

“Sure, at the wedding,” Lin jokes. “You’ve always been so private!”

You’re not sure what to say to this. You know it’s true. You never shared much with her, never had a big group of girlfriends to tell things to. It was always just you and Taehyung.

Now you’re sad for two reasons.

Somehow, Lin seems to read your mind through the phone. “Is it weird not having Christmas with Taehyung’s family?” she asks.

“I was trying not to think about it,” you admit, and she laughs.

“I’m sure they miss you!” she says. “I’ll tell them hello - I see his mom all over town. I’m sure it was weird for him to come home without you. Do you think he’s jealous that your boyfriend gets your attention now?”

She’s joking, but she’s spearheaded the truth so perfectly that it knocks your breath out. 

She interprets your silence correctly and the teasing vanishes instantly. “Oh, honey,” she says, voice full of regret. “I didn’t know you were going through that. Are you, like, actually fighting? What happened?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “We… aren’t speaking right now,” you admit, your voice tight. “But could we talk about it another time? They’re all waiting for me out there and I don’t want to get all upset…”

“Sure, sure,” she says quickly. “But Y/N? Taehyung loves you - he’s been your best friend for so long. He’ll adjust. It’ll be okay. Alright?”

That’s all it takes to set you off - just her kindness, her reassurance. As you tell her thank you, and goodbye, you’re choking back tears, trying to get it together. As you hang up, you feel - for the first time maybe ever - like you actually miss her. 

You and Namjoon spend the afternoon reading on the couch together, your feet on his lap. His parents tut and whisper that there’s two of him now, and you can’t help but smile. 

Late in the afternoon, you glance at your phone, tempted to text Taehyung Merry Christmas. You’ve never had one without him before, except for the year he had the flu. In the end, you slide your phone back into your pocket, screen still locked. 

Tuesday December 26th

You and Namjoon decide to head back a day early once the weather reports start forecasting an actual blizzard. 

His parents are disappointed, but understand. Namjoon’s dad warms up the car, idling in the driveway while you two collect your bags and zip your coats. Namjoon steps out ahead of you, and you can see past him that the clouds are low and gray, the air feeling like impending snow. 

Mrs. Kim calls you back by your name, and you hesitate, turning to see what she needs. She shuffles in from the kitchen, a reusable grocery bag in her hands, laden with leftovers. She pushes it into your hands wordlessly.

“Thank you,” you tell her enthusiastically, eyeing the number of containers she’s crammed in there. “We’ll eat well for at least a week. Thank you so much.”

She keeps her hands on the bag’s handles for a second longer, not allowing you to pull away. She opens her mouth, then hesitates, like trying to decide how to say what she wants to say.

“I hope you’ll come back soon,” she says finally. “If you need help with… cooking, or… if you need someone to talk to… I hope you’ll come to see me as someone you can reach out to.”

Tears well in your eyes and you blink them away quickly, embarrassed, as she finally releases her hold on the bags.

“Thank you,” you tell her, your voice a little choked. “And thank you for letting me stay here. I appreciate it… so much.”

On the train, Namjoon bumps his knee against yours. “You’re quiet,” he says, a loving accusation.

You sigh. “Your family’s awesome,” you tell him.

Understanding, he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. “Come home with me any time,” he says. “They’d love it. And so would I.”

You watch the countryside roll by in silence for a while. You’re almost drifting off when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Then again, and then again.

[10:51 AM] Taehyung: my mom says merry christmas  [10:51 AM] Taehyung: i missed you during the drive home [10:52 AM] Taehyung: i miss you now, at home [10:52 AM] Taehyung: we’ve always spent christmas together  [10:52 AM] Taehyung: the guys said you’re with namjoons family [10:52 AM] Taehyung: i’m glad you weren’t alone. I would have felt even worse [10:53 AM] Taehyung: i know i said it a lot of times, but i’ll say it again. i am SO sorry for what i did [10:54 AM] Taehyung: can we talk when i get back to campus? Like… actually talk?

You turn the screen and nudge Namjoon’s elbow, letting him lean over to read it. You feel… kind of empty. 

“I think he means it,” Namjoon murmurs. 

You press your lips together, clutch the phone so tight your knuckles turn white. 

“I think he does, too,” you agree finally.

“You gonna talk to him?” Namjoon asks. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. You turn the screen off and slide your phone back into your pocket, the messages unanswered. “I’ll think about it.”

An hour later, as the train rolls past campus, your heart clenches as you catch glimpses of the places you’d spent with Taehyung the last few years - the dorms, the academic building, the football field. You pull your phone back out, feeling something inside you crack and break. 

That something might have been your pride, your hurt feelings, your tightly-clutched anger.

[12:04 PM] You: merry christmas to you and your family, tae

[12:07 PM] You: yeah… let’s talk when you get back

Friday December 29th

“Did you know that you’re the warmest person on the planet?” you ask. 

“I think you mean hottest,” Namjoon jokes.

You’re wrapped up together, in his bed this time, as you’ve been for most of Christmas week. The blizzard came and went without incident for the two of you - you stayed inside, comfy and warm, reading together, eating food that only needs to be microwaved, and talking - about his book, about your upcoming classes, about the beautiful snow coating everything outside.

About your upcoming conversation with Taehyung. 

There’s something you don’t talk about, though - your niggling feelings that you owe Lin more, like you have something to make up for for bailing on going home. 

“I can mean both if it makes you feel better,” you tease back. “But right now, I really mean warmest.”

“I’m sticking with hottest,” he says, eyes closed happily.

You’re quiet for a few minutes, just listening to him breathe, just reveling in feeling happy and safe and - yes - warm. 

“Joon?” you murmur.

“Mmm?” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“Wanted to ask you something.”

Now he peeks at you, curious at your sudden meekness. “What is it?”

You wiggle your toes in discomfort. Namjoon waits you out, like he always does. 

“I was thinking about how I left Lin alone this week,” you say slowly. “I mean, she’s always alone. It’s not, like, my job to make sure she’s not lonely.”

Namjoon says your name quietly, disarmingly, a reminder that you don’t need to jump to defensiveness - not with him.

You sigh. “I feel bad,” you admit. “So I was thinking about going home on the train for New Years? And, um, no pressure, but if you want to come with me –”

“Of course I do,” he says immediately, not even letting you finish. “Of course I’ll go with you.” He laughs, once. “Honestly, I’m honored. Have you ever brought a guy home before?”

You hide your face, blushing and fighting a smile. “Literally never.”

He grins at you, and you press a kiss to the dimple closest. 

“Sounds fun,” he says. “When do you want to go?”

“Sunday, maybe?” you suggest. “New Years Eve day?”

“That’s fine,” he says, eyes on the ceiling as he flips through his mental calendar. “You gonna give your aunt a heads up?”

In the end you text Lin and Taehyung the same thing - “coming home Sunday for new years. See you then?”

Sunday December 31st 

The train ride to your hometown is significantly quicker than Namjoon’s was. Somehow, you feel even more nervous this time than you did on your way to meet his parents. You’re not sure if your nerves are for introducing Namjoon to Lin, or for talking to Taehyung again after what a disaster it was last time.

Both, probably. 

“What if he pulls some shit again?” you ask out of nowhere, the question that’s burning under your skin finally breaking free.

Namjoon grimaces. “I’ll be there this time.”

You sigh, frustrated. “And that’s fine for in the moment, but I’m more worried about like… the long-term. If he acts like an idiot again, where do we go from there? Do I just just not talk to him for another week until he’s sorry again? Is it a cycle? Or do I cut him out completely and just… give up on the friendship?”

Namjoon’s grimace doesn’t waver. “I think that’s up to him. And you,” he says gently. 

You let out a slow breath. 

“I wish I knew what to mentally prepare for,” you admit, huffing out a quiet laugh.

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it,” he promises, and you appreciate the gesture. But it isn’t the same for him, and you know it. Taehyung’s his friend, sure, but it’s very not-the-same.

“Anyway,” you say, trying to give yourself a mental shake. “I’m excited to bring you home. I’ll focus on that.”

“I’m more nervous about that part,” he admits with a smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You sit like that for the rest of the trip, leaning into his embrace. 

Lin’s house is walkable from the train station if you know the shortcut through a broken chain-link fence - which, luckily, you do. You let yourself in the front door with the key you keep, both of you kicking off your shoes and leaving your suitcases in the narrow entryway. 

You enter the small living room first, Namjoon behind you trying to get his boot off of his foot. Lin gets up from the couch with a smile, coming to give you a hug.

“How was the ride?” she asks, starting to pull away. 

You start to answer her, when her face suddenly changes as she sees Namjoon come through the doorway behind you. Her smile drops, her face goes pale, and - completely inexplicably - she starts to tear up, a hand coming to cover her mouth.

Adrenaline and alarm rush through you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, “I should have warned you I was bringing Namjoon. It was kind of a surprise. Shit, Lin, are you mad? We can get a hotel room for him instead –”

“I’m not mad,” she manages, wiping under her eyes. “I’m happy. I never thought - Honey, it’s so nice to meet you.” 

She’s moving around you and hugging Namjoon, who looks at you with comically wide eyes over her shoulder.

She lets him go, sniffling a little, pulling back to get a good look at him. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Namjoon says awkwardly. “If it’s too late notice for me to stay here, I understand –”

“No, no,” she says quickly. “It’s fine. It’s wonderful.” She turns her teary gaze back to you.

You’ve never seen Lin cry, never in your life - not even over Grandma. 

“It’s just,” she says, clearly trying to get her voice under control, “Y/N’s never brought home a partner before. You barely even brought home friends. As you grew up… it felt like you were pushing this place away, rejecting it as a home - like you didn’t consider it a place worth bringing the people who were important to you.”

This floors you, knocks you right out. You take a deep breath, try to still your shaking hands. You turn to Namjoon. “The guest room is through that door off the kitchen,” you tell him. “Do you want to bring your bag in?”

He gives you a long, searching look - like he’s trying to figure out if you’re okay, like he’s trying to figure out if it’s okay to leave you on your own.

But it is. This time, it is.

You give him a reassuring little nod, and he gives you the tiniest hint of a smile back before going to get his suitcase from where he’d abandoned it in the entryway. He wheels it past you, through the kitchen and you turn back to Lin, who’s wiping furiously under her eyes.

“Lin,” you say quietly. “I… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She sniffs again, working hard to get it together. “I understood,” she says kindly. “Things were so hard for you. I could understand it if you took your anger at your situation out that way.”

“It wasn’t that,” you say, trying to explain. “It was just… the only person who was important to me was already here.”

Her eyes flash to the living room’s front window, which looks out to the street - where, across the pavement, you can see the corner of Taehyung’s house. Then her gaze flits back to you.

“I see,” she says somberly. Then she brightens. “But not anymore, huh? Now you have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” you say, eyes on the doorway where Namjoon had disappeared with his bag. You can’t fight your smile. “Apparently I do.”

She squeals a little and pulls you back into another hug. “I can’t wait to get to know him,” she tells you. “I hope you two will come around a lot more.”

You’re reminded of Namjoon’s mom saying the same thing. It feels… strange - to have homes waiting for you, with people wanting to see you. It’s something you hadn’t ever really felt, growing up. 

For the first time, you’re starting to see family as something you have to build. 

“By the way,” Lin says, glancing at the clock, “are you two having dinner at the Kims with me tonight? If so, I’d better tell her to add a place at the table for your man.”

“Oh my God,” you say, laughing, covering your face. “Don’t call him that.”

“Dinner at the Kims?” Namjoon asks, finally deciding it’s safe to come back now that you’re done hugging. “Tonight?”

“Just across the street,” she tells him. “I have work tonight, so unfortunately I’ll have to leave around ten. Are you joining? Or are you and Taehyung…?”

You shrug. “He texted. We’re supposed to talk. Maybe tonight’s a good chance for that.”

She reaches out and squeezes your shoulder. “I like the sound of that. Start the New Year off with a clean slate.”

You like the sound of that a lot, too. You really, really hope that’s what the night will bring.

“We’ll go,” you say, looking up at Namjoon for confirmation. He nods, like he doesn’t care what you do as long as you’re together. Which… is probably exactly what he thinks. “Right?”

“Sure,” he says easily, reaching out to grab your hand. “What’s for dinner?”

–

Tons is the answer to that question. Taehyung’s mother cooks for the six of you like she’s cooking for twenty. 

Lin leads you into the house, calling cheerful hellos. You hug Taehyung’s parents happily, then step back, meeting your best friend’s eyes for the first time in almost three weeks. He chews his lip nervously, gives you a tiny nod. You return it. Behind you, Namjoon is shaking Mr. Kim’s hand, introducing himself.

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “Mr. and Mrs. Kim, this is my boyfriend, Namjoon. He’s a grad student at the university.”

Mrs. Kim and Lin head into the kitchen and Mr. Kim heads for his study down the hall, leaving the three of you alone in the living room. 

Awkward silence echoes.

Taehyung breaks the silence first, addressing Namjoon. “You want a beer?”

Namjoon eyes him for a minute, jaw clenched. For a scary second, you think he’s actually going to tell Taehyung to go fuck himself. Then, he unclenches, twists his mouth to the side like he’s thinking, and nods.

“Sure,” he says. “A beer would be great. And maybe one for Y/N, too?” 

“Yes, please,” you say, flashing Taehyung a thankful grin. When Taehyung returns, holding out the bottles to you, you take them, feeling… hopeful. It’s just a beer, sure, but it feels like a peace offering. It feels like everything might actually be okay. 

–

Dinner is delicious, and somehow not awkward. Taehyung’s mother has always doted on you, so she peppers you with questions - about school, your thesis, about how you and Namjoon got together. You’re afraid it will be weird, but while Taehyung doesn’t contribute to this part of the conversation, he listens attentively. You realize he probably didn’t know the story, himself. 

When ten o’clock rolls around, you hug Lin goodbye at the door - something new for both of you.

“This year’s gonna be better for us,” she promises you in a whisper. “I can already tell.”

You nod against her shoulder, then wish her a safe drive. 

–

“Five… four… three… two… one! Happy New Years!”

Everyone in the room cheers, Taehyung blowing into a noisy paper horn. Namjoon’s eyes glitter, and then he tugs you closer by the waist, kissing you soundly. Somebody - Mrs. Kim, you suspect - whistles and you feel yourself blush. Your happy, bashful laugh breaks the kiss, and he squeezes your waist once as you break away. 

You grin up at him, so happy you could burst from it. It’s hard to believe that four months ago you were strangers, tip-toeing around each other at home.  It’s hard to believe that four months ago you couldn’t shelter in his arms, listen to his heartbeat, tell him every stupid thought you have.

The Kims have huddled noisily on the other side of the room, giving you two a little privacy for a moment, so you take the opportunity to press yourself closer to Namjoon. You stretch onto your toes, your lips close to his ear, and whisper, “Looking forward to this year of loving you, Joon.”

His arms tighten around you and you swear you hear his breath catch.

Then, he nuzzles his face in his hair, whispering back, “I love you.”

You hold him tight, swaying a little, your heart soaring and soaring. You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy in your life.

–

Tae’s parents go to bed shortly after midnight, and you’re eager to leave, too - your house across the street is empty tonight, after all. 

Taehyung walks you two to the front door. Namjoon steps out first, heading down to the grassy yard. Taehyung calls your name from the top step, and you hesitate. 

“Can… could we talk now?” he asks, voice small. “Like… alone?”

Two steps down from you, Namjoon mutters something that sounds an awful lot like audacity. 

“I’m all ears,” you say. 

Taehyung flushes, his chest going dark and patchy above the collar, the way it does when he’s upset. “Listen,” he says, “I know what I did was really fucked up. I want to apologize - to both of you. I really am… so goddamn sorry.”

“I appreciate that,” Namjoon says evenly, voice low. There’s something hot about how he says it, and you feel a tingle and a thrill. You want to take his hand and drag him home.

“I…” Taehuyng falters, his eyes on you. “I really do want to talk to you about everything. And… it’s hard. Right? It’s not just me? I think I’ll… do a better job saying what I mean if it’s just us.”

You frown, but the truth is you understand. For your whole lives, it had been the two of you. You speak your own language with each other. What he’s trying to tell you is he can be more authentic if he isn’t trying to communicate in a way that lets Namjoon in, too. 

You look at Namjoon to gauge how he feels about this. He looks back at you, face unreadable. Your choice, the blankness tells you.

“We stay right here,” you say, pointing at the steps. 

“That’s fine,” Taehyung says eagerly, like he can’t believe you agreed. 

You look at Namjoon again, and he nods. “I’ll be over there,” he says, nodding at your house. “You know where to find me.”

“Don’t worry,” you tell him, a little devious. “I definitely plan to come find you.”

His smile back is wicked as he turns and lopes across the yard, disappearing into the dark.

You wait for him to start, to say what he wants to say, but he just looks at you. In the dark, his eyes look almost black.

“Okay,” you say finally. “I’m here to talk. So let’s talk.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, like it’s bursting from him, like he was waiting for permission to unleash it. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that to you.”

You press your lips together and look away, shove down the wave of emotion - fresh anger, deep hurt. “So why did you?” you manage. 

“I could see myself losing you all semester,” he admits. His voice trembles, just slightly. “I could see it happening little by little and I couldn’t figure out why and I felt so… frozen… I didn’t know how to pull you back without crossing any lines with you…” He rubs a hand over his face, inhales roughly. “When I found out you were in love with Namjoon, it’s like my brain went into this panic state and my body just reacted and did the only thing it could think of that might stop you from walking away.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. Angry tears string at your eyes, their tracks suddenly warm on your cheeks. Your voice shakes when you mutter, “That’s so fucked up, Taehyung. I don’t deserve that.”

“I know,” he says, rubbing a hand down his face again. His shoulders shake, barely noticeable, before he pulls it together to continue. “Of course you don’t. I just… wanted you to stay. I don’t know… how to live a life that isn’t… half yours.” His sentence is punctuated with long sniffs, hurried swipes under eyes - for both of you.

You hate it, but you know exactly what he means. You hadn’t known how to live a life that wasn’t half his, either. But you’d learned - you have to build it yourself. It doesn’t come out of nowhere. 

“Tae…” you say, sniffing once more and trying to take a steadying breath. “That stuff you said to Namjoon…”

He hangs his head, exhaling, the sound whispery and warbling. “He really just pissed me off,” he admits, not looking at you. “But, for a second, I really did wonder…”

You can see exactly what’s coming and you brace yourself, wondering how bad this next admission will hurt.

“Of course I love you,” he says, looking up at you. He’s not crying, now. Instead, he looks at you so seriously, like he’s got to see your reaction, to know you hear him. “You’re my best friend. There was really a minute there where I wondered if my way of loving you could really be that different from…”

From your way of loving me. He doesn't need to say it.

It doesn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would.

“The answer to that,” you say dryly, “is yes, very.”

He nods, acknowledging this. “And,” he admits, voice going quiet with shame, “I think a little part of me was trying to hurt you back. When I found out you’d been getting serious with him and keeping it from me… that hurt, you not telling me. You and me… we don’t lie to each other, and we don’t keep secrets.”

You scoff. “That’s bullshit, Taehyung. We’ve been doing both for… years.”

The silence stretches between you as he considers the truth of these words. His gaze drops to the ground. 

“I guess you’re right,” he says sadly, like he hates that it’s true. “Things have been fucked up between us for a long time now. And… I’m sorry for that, too. I’m sorry for being a terrible friend - this year, and all these years. I shouldn’t have let you… keep hurting. I think I was lying to myself about… how you felt. If I didn’t address it, if I didn’t technically know, then I didn’t have to do anything about it. And if I didn’t do anything about it, I couldn’t risk doing the wrong thing.”

You take in his explanation, your arms crossed over your chest. It doesn’t make things okay, it doesn’t absolve him. But you can understand. You’d been afraid to rock the boat, too. 

You two should have talked years ago.

“How long have you known?” you ask quietly.

He makes an unhappy noise. “Ah. We don’t have to do that.”

“I just want to know.”

He sighs. “Since high school, I guess?”

You look away, letting out another bitter laugh. “That’s a long time.”

“I guess I thought if I never looked directly at it, then nothing between us would change,” he explains. 

“It had to,” you say firmly. That’s the truest thing you can say right now.

“I know that,” Taehyung says, exhaling. “I know that, now.”

You’re both quiet for a minute. You shiver a little, wonder if Namjoon is okay over at Lin’s house.

“These last two years were hard,” Taehyung says suddenly, like now that he’s opened the tap he can’t stop the flow of words, can’t stop spilling every truth. “I stopped knowing… how to be your friend. I didn't know where the line was - I didn't know what would hurt you, what would mess with your head when I was just being me, just being us.”

“We need new boundaries,” you say quietly. 

He nods, agreeing. “It won’t be easy,” he sighs. “Because… well, it can’t be the same. But I feel like we can figure it out.”

“Should be easier, now,” you observe. Now that he doesn’t need to worry about your heart, you mean. 

He nods, understanding. 

Past the horizon of trees, a burst of fireworks light up above the line of rooftops.

“You have a resolution?” you ask him. 

He nods, sucking on his teeth a little. “Yeah. To… let someone in.”

You turn to look at him, silently waiting as he finishes the thought. 

“We wasted a lot of time,” he says, smile twisting sideways wryly. “You were… y’know… waiting for something that wasn’t coming. And I don’t think I gave anyone else a fair shot either. Just because… she’d have to be my best friend, right? Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”

You look across the street again. “Yeah,” you say. “Usually that’s how it works.”

“And where would that have left you?” he asks. 

“Yep,” you say flatly, understanding exactly the point he’s trying to make. “That was my problem for a while too, when this started.”

“What I’m saying, though,” he tries again, a little frustrated that his words aren’t doing what he wants, “is that you were the brave one. I was too scared to see what would happen, to see what we could figure out. You gave someone a chance. You had faith that we’d be alright.”

You nod, considering this. “So, are we?” you ask. “Alright?”

He nods. “Can I hug you?” he asks. 

You smile, crooked. “I think that’s allowed,” you joke.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and you lean your head against his chest. “My dummy,” you say affectionately, and his laugh rumbles under your ear. “I missed your stupid ass.”

Then, you step away. “I should go,” you tell him. “Namjoon’s probably looking at my baby pictures and there’s no one in there to stop him.”

Taehyung laughs. “Okay,” he says. “See you back at campus? Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year,” you tell him, as you walk away. 

Friday May 25th 

[3:55 PM] Joon 💕: it’s here [3:55 PM] You: O.O [3:55 PM] Joon 💕: you want me to open it? [3:56 PM] Joon 💕: or should i wait for you to get home? [3:56 PM] You: omg pls open it [3:56 PM] You: just text me yes or no [3:56 PM] You: nothing else. just that. hurry.

[3:58 PM] You: NAMJOON

[3:59 PM] You: i will THROW UP!!!!!!

[4:01 PM] Joon 💕: you got in [4:01 PM] You: SHUT THE FUCK UP [4:01 PM] You: YOU’RE KISDING RIGHT [4:02 PM] You: PROMISE ME YOURE OT LYING [4:03 PM] Joon 💕: lol you think i’d fuck with you over something like this? [4:04 PM] You: no??? But??? Everything is turning black around me??? I think i’m dying??? [4:04 PM] Joon 💕: breathe, babe [4:05 PM] Joon 💕: and come home soon so we can celebrate [4:05 PM] You: be there soon

You call Lin first. She answers on the third ring, groggily, and you’re aware that she must have worked last night and you’ve woken her up. 

You can feel guilty later.

“I got in!” you squeal, and she shrieks so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear. 

“Congratulations!” she’s crowing when you get brave enough to put the phone near your face again. “I told you you would!”

“I know, I know,” you say, breathless with delight. You’d applied for a few grad programs in the area, but your sights were really on a small, private university in the city. Their writing program was renowned, but they only took a small cohort each year. You had felt confident that you’d get into the writing program here, at your current university, with Namjoon, and you’d been right. But it hadn’t been your first choice, not if you were being really honest. 

“We should celebrate,” Lin tells you. “What if I came to campus this weekend? I could take you and Namjoon out to dinner?”

“We’d love that,” you say. “I’ll just double-check that he doesn’t have anything on his schedule but it should be fine.”

“Let me know. And Y/N? I’m really proud of you.”

You’re almost home when you hang up, and you practically skip the rest of the way to the apartment. It’s almost hot out, the late-spring evening promising summer days on the horizon. You take the steps two at a time, ready to get swept up in Namjoon’s arms, ready to share your joy and triumph with him the way you’d once shared your uncertainty.

He delivers; you’re barely through the apartment door when he’s sweeping you into a hug, swinging you around so your living room spins around you. You laugh, delighted, holding on tight. He sets you on your feet, peppering your forehead, cheeks, and lips with playful, sloppy kisses.

“Namjoon!” you protest, laughing. “Let me put my bag down!”

“I can’t,” he murmurs, smiling, lips still against your forehead. “My genius girlfriend got into her dream program. I must kiss her.”

Even as he says this, though, he steps away, allowing you to slide your bag off your shoulder and set it on the floor.

“Did you tell Lin?” he asks. “I texted my mom - she’s so happy for you. She wants us to come visit; she said she’d make your favorite as a celebration.”

“Ooh,” you say. “So many people want to feed me for this. I should get into grad school more often.”

“No one tried to feed you when you got into the mid options,” he points out, eyes glinting playfully. He moves to sit at the breakfast bar, turned sideways in the seat so he can still face you.

“To answer your question,” you say loudly, ignoring his bullshit, “yes, I called Lin. And please tell your mom thank you, and we’ll visit soon.”

Namjoon’s thumbs move as he types. “As much as I love my mom’s cooking, I was thinking tonight we should celebrate just us?”

“Keep talking,” you say slyly, coming up behind him to read over his shoulder as he answers his mother. You lean against his warm, wide back, letting him hold you up for just a moment. Then you wrap your arms around his middle, resting your cheek on his shoulder, waiting as he finishes up. 

He sets his phone down and turns to look over at you. “Want to go out for dinner?”

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, picking your face up from his shoulder so you can see him better. You keep your arms around his, his own little jail cell of affection.

“Somewhere nicer than normal?” he suggests. “Since this is a big deal.”

“How nice?” you push, eyes narrowed.

He smiles at you easily. “The kind of nice where they have you try the wine before they pour it.”

You laugh loudly, finally releasing him. “Wow,” you say. “I might need to pull out some high heels for that shit.”

“You might,” he agrees, his smile turning a little flirtatious. “What do you think?”

“Yeah,” you say, considering. “You want to call and make a reservation somewhere while I go wash my hair?” 

He nods, already reaching for his phone again. “Anything for my genius.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, swatting at the bit of his ass you can reach with him being seated as you pass by, heading for the bathroom. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Impossible,” he calls, as you disappear. 

Later, after you’ve dried your hair, as you sit at your desk with your make-up bag unzipped before you, you wonder if this is news you should tell Taehyung.

Once upon a time, you would have told him first. Back in the fall, even, he would have been the first to know. 

Now, in the five months since you’d reconciled, you and Taehyung don’t talk that much. What used to be several dinners a week on campus is now a meal at the apartment maybe once a month - and never just the two of you. The last time he’d come for dinner, Namjoon had been home, and Jungkook and Hoseok had both joined, too. And that was over a month ago. 

What used to be daily texts about absolutely every stupid, little thing is now maybe a text or two a week - Taehyung’s texts to you mostly consist of dumb memes that make you feel like you’re losing brain cells by looking at them. Your texts to him tend to ask after him - how are you, how’s your mom, did you pass that midterm?

It isn’t like it was before. You feel a little bit like you’re both tiptoeing, teetering in this space between too much and not enough. You’re both pushing the boundaries of your distance, of your time apart, hunting for the edges, looking for the places where the map turns black. To not tell him big news like this seems like a deliberate distancing, not quite the middle ground you’re trying to find.

And besides, Taehyung does know you’ve wanted into this program. You’d talked about it months ago when the application process started, when you’d been choosing your back-ups, talking through your Plan B’s with anyone who would listen. 

You text him - ‘big news’.

[5:52 PM] Taehyung: 🫄?

[5:53 PM] You: i literally fucking hate you kim taehyung!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[5:53 PM] Taehyung: lmaooooo it’s a legitimate question!

[5:54 PM] You: now i’m not telling you! I’ll call your mom and tell her instead!

[5:54 PM] Taehyung: wow. You haven’t used that line on me since we were eight.

[5:55 PM] You: yes and i was very upset with you that time too 😤

[5:57 PM] Taehyung: ok so what’s the news

[5:58 PM] You: ask your mom

[5:58 PM] Taehyung: this is abuse

[5:59 PM] You: ok you crybaby. I got into the good one. I got the letter today

[6:01 PM] Taehyung: yooo congrats!!!!!!

[6:02 PM] Taehyung: i’m so happy for you seriously

[6:03 PM] You: thanks tae 

[6:04 PM] Taehyung: you honestly SHOULD tell my mom lol she’ll cry

–

“So,” you say to Namjoon. His face flickers before you, broken and dancing by the candle flame on the table between you.

“So,” he echoes, leaning back in his seat. The bottle of wine you’d split sits nearly empty next to the flickering candle. And yes, he’d gotten to taste it before it was poured. This place is upscale.

“Do you want to talk about this?” you ask cautiously. “Or should we not tarnish the celebration?”

“Tarnish?” he echoes again, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah,” you say, “I mean… my program’s over an hour from here. We have to talk about that eventually. What it means for us.”

His brows don’t unfurrow, and his mouth slides into a frown. Seconds ago he’d been relaxed, but now he sits up, leaning closer to you. That candle flame flares and settles again, excited about nothing. 

“What it means for us?” he repeats.

“Can you say something that I didn’t say first?” you snap. His eyes widen, and you close yours, deflating. “Sorry,” you say immediately, before you even open your eyes to look at him again. “I’m just… scared about this, I guess.”

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, still frowning, “I didn’t know you were worried about what we’d do. I thought it was obvious.”

“What?” you utter. Sometimes Namjoon does this, has entire conversations or solves problems in his head, forgets to let you in on it. “What did you think?”

He shakes his head, like he can’t believe you didn’t know what was going on in that brain of his, like he forgot you don’t reside in there, too. “I thought we’d just find a place together, in the middle. We could each commute to class about half that distance. It’d be like forty minutes each way, it’s not totally unrealistic. Plus, a lot of the classes are hybrid these days, half the time we’re online…”

Now it’s your turn to frown. “It’s forty minutes by car. Have you looked at the train schedules?”

He looks embarrassed suddenly, not meeting your eyes. 

“Namjoon?” you prompt, suspicious. 

“I…” he says, still not looking at you. “I mean… yeah.”

“Yeah what?” you ask. 

He sighs, caught. But he’s so predictable, this boyfriend of yours. 

“I was looking at what towns are in that area, right in the middle,” he admits. “I checked the trains from there… and some apartments, too.”

“Namjoon!” you scold. “I hadn’t even gotten in yet!”

He gives you a sheepish smile, those dimples shadowed dark in the dimly lit restaurant. “I knew you would, though,” he says, so easily, like it was just a basic truth. “I knew they’d want you.”

You sip at your water to cover how choked up you feel at his absolute faith in you. When you’ve got yourself under control, you set your glass back down and ask, “So, what’d you find?”

“I can get here on light rail,” he says, a little bit of victory slipping onto his face. “Right outside campus, honestly. There’s an express sometimes, too.”

“You don’t think you’ll get tired of that?”

He looks at you seriously. “My choices,” he tells you, voice low, “are to commute by light rail to my grad classes from the place we’ll share, or to learn to drive and buy a damn car so I can drive two hours to you every night from here. Which would you rather I do?”

You stare at him, face slipping into an indignant frown. “Be serious,” you chide.

“I am being so serious,” he tells you. “I’m going to see you every night. I’m going to sleep by your side every night. Those are the options.”

You can’t even look at him; there are times you’re slapped with how undeserving you feel of the love he gives you, how completely he’s made you his world. This is one of those times.

“And for me?” you croak finally. “Is there a light rail option for me to get to my classes?”

He shrugs, which means no. “You’ll need a car,” he admits. 

“I don’t have a car,” you point out needlessly. 

He grins at you across the table. “How’s your credit score?” he asks. 

 Tuesday July 12th

Namjoon locks the padlock on the back of the rental moving truck, ensuring the door won’t open and spill your belongings all over the highway. 

“I think that’s everything,” he says. “Do you want me to check upstairs one last time for anything?”

“Check the closets,” you tell him, and he nods, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze on his way by. As he disappears upstairs, you sit on the bumper of the moving van, desperate to get out of the scorching summer heat. 

A few of the guys, who’d all come to help - and to say goodbye, follow Namjoon inside. Jungkook plops down on the sidewalk, using his bucket hat to fan himself, and Jimin sits next to him, taking a long drink from a sweating water bottle. 

Taehyung sits next to you on the bumper, the van bouncing a little as he does. 

“Hey,” he says. He doesn’t look at you. You’re reminded of sitting side by side on the stone steps that are to your left, past Jungkook and Jimin, the day you’d told him about Namjoon. “I have something to tell you.”

You look over at him, alarmed. His face is drawn, and he chews on his lower lip nervously. 

“Yeah?” you say uneasily. Once, you might have reached for his hand to help ease his apparent nerves. That was Old Boundaries, though. New Boundaries say hands-to-yourselves, except for hugs goodbye.

He licks his lips, eyes on the pavement. He scuffs his sandal along the road, takes a deep breath.

“I got into an art program abroad,” he says finally, all in one breath.

Your eyes go wide. “Taehyung!” you cry. “That’s amazing news! Where? When do you go?”

He looks at you sideways, almost smiling, almost happy. “All the way in Europe,” he admits, laughing a little. “I’m scared out of my mind.”

“Oh my god,” you say, reeling a little. “You’re moving to Europe? How long is it? Is it, like, for school technically, or a job-?”

He considers this, head cocked as he thinks. “Kind of more like an internship with some killer benefits, and education mixed in?” he says. “It’s a little… unorthodox, I think. Anyway… it’s eighteen months… so almost two years.”

“Wow,” you say. “Wow, Taehyung, congrats.”

“Thanks,” he says, almost shyly, back to looking at the ground. “Anyway, I’ll make sure we have dinner or something before I go. I have the rest of the summer here. Just… make sure you call my mom a lot while I’m gone, okay?”

This makes you laugh, knocks you out of your little stupor. It’s just so typical Taehyung, asking you to do his duties for him. “They have phones in Europe, Taehyung,” you point out flatly. “You call your mom.”

Namjoon emerges from the apartment building, followed by Yoongi and Hoseok. Seokjin, a year ahead of Namjoon, had graduated the week prior, had already moved away from campus. “You ready to go?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah,” you say, pulling the truck’s key from your pocket. “You ready, co-pilot?”

He grins at you over the heads of the other guys as you stand, preparing to hug everyone goodbye. “Ready,” he tells you. 

Thursday December 19th

[9:14 PM] You: i have☝️ a question about christmas

Your phone lights up with a facetime call; you should have known Taehyung wouldn’t just text like a normal person.

“Taehyung’s facetiming me,” you inform Namjoon, who’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, scrolling through his own phone. “Don’t say anything questionable.”

“Questionable how?” he asks, as you answer the call.

“Hello, Kim Taehyung,” you say, waving.

“Bonjour,” he says, grinning.

You grimace. “I know I don’t speak French, but… I think your French is pretty bad,” you tell him regretfully.

He rolls his eyes. “Anyway. Christmas. I’m staying here.”

You frown, disappointed. “Really? I know it’s a long flight, but…”

You trail off as a voice behind Taehyung says something. He turns for just a second, murmuring, “Just a second, jagi.”

Namjoon’s head snaps up and his eyes meet yours, comically wide as you both clock it. You bring the phone very close to your face. 

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, and he looks back at you, eyes equally wide, caught. “Did you just call someone jagi?”

“He did,” Namjoon says. “He absolutely did.”

Taehyung covers his face with a hand, slender fingers obscuring closed eyes.

“Oh, my god,” you say.

“Don’t,” he whines through his fingers. “Don’t make a big deal about it.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you demand. “In France?”

“Stop,” he complains. “You’re so annoying.”

“Does your mom know?” you cry. 

“Yah! Enough!”

“I need to know!” you tell him. “I have to know or I will simply combust!”

Taehyung lets out a long, defeated breath, and looks silently at someone off-camera. Then, resigned, eyes on the ceiling, he says, “I’ve sort of been seeing someone here.”

“Sort of,” the someone off-camera scoffs.

You end up talking for almost another hour, both Namjoon and Taehyung’s new girlfriend moving into view as the four of you talk. Taehyung blushes and complains his way through the story of how they met, and she chimes in happily to add how they ended up together. 

You hang up with smiles after telling Taehyung how happy you are for him. And you are - you remember his New Year’s resolution, almost a year ago: to let someone in, finally. It seems - based on the affectionate little touches, the quick, sly glances, the giggles and jokes that you’d just witnessed through your phone screen - that he actually did. 

And, somehow, it doesn’t hurt at all. How could it, when Namjoon slides his hand affectionately up your thigh before he rises from the couch, stretching and yawning as he heads for the bedroom you share?

As you brush your teeth side by side, he asks you around a mouth full of toothpaste, “So, do you want to stick to what we did last year? Christmas with my parents, then New Years with Lin?”

“Sounds good,” you say, sliding your toothbrush back into the holder.

No need to think about it. It’s an easy answer. It’s always an easy answer when it comes to Namjoon. Because wherever he goes, you know you’ll always follow - feet, heart, all of it.

<- Prev

wow wow wow wow wow i can't believe it's over!!!!!! i fully do not know what to do with myself now!!!!!!

thank you all so so so much for going along this journey with me, and waving your pitchforks at taehyung, and putting up with my incessant need to defend his stupid ass, and for just being really incredible readers i love y'all so much :(

I have a Seokjin fic coming sometime in April, a fluffy oneshot called "Sit. Stay."

After that, it might be quite a long time until I post a long series again - fall at the earliest. I was doing okay balancing work and grad school through the fall and in the winter I had some breaks like over Christmas. But to be really honest, since late January it's been really, really hard for me to stay active. If this wasn't written ahead of time, I couldn't have done it. So just... know I'll be back, I have more stories I want to make happen... I hope some of you will wait for me even though I know I hardly deserve it &lt;;3 and i'm really really thankful that you were here at all

[endereies]

FUCK IT - MATT STURNIOLO - PART 5

Spotify Playlist:

Pairing: Matt x Oc

Contains: Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Requested?: no

Author's notes: I was giggling a little too much writing this to be brutally honest

Word Count: 3043

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

“Is this something we are meant to do?”

“Fuck it.”

I didn’t sleep well that night, it wasn’t that I was too hot or uncomfortable because that was far from the truth. I was simply awake with my thoughts, about the people I had met the previous evening, my mother who was expecting me to be home the next morning even if I can never expect her to be home herself. It bothered me that she always wanted me home for whenever she arrived and the one time, I leave the house I have one of the best nights I’ve had in a while. I finally got properly introduced to Chris and Nick, Nate and Madi were funny and so sweet to me even if they had only known me a few hours. I wasn’t going to sit in my home and rot while doing nothing but school work. I wanted to live the end of my teenage years, freely and not waiting for another disappointment when my family doesn’t show up.

It was about 5am when I had truly given up on getting a full night’s sleep, only having 3 hours altogether. I had tried things to stop my overthinking but my methods grew more useless the more I attempted to use them. I shove the duvet off of my body and shift across the matrass so my legs dangle off the edge of the bed. I stare out my cracked open door into the darkness and I hear faint, soft breathing from what I assume is Matt in the room opposite me. My eyes try to adjust to the darkness and I notice the white case of my headphones by the edge of the nightstand, a sigh escapes my lips as I reach other to it, simultaneously picking up my phone from beneath it. My screen lights up and I quickly deter it from my eye sight and turning down the brightness with them closed, having done it so many times before.

5:17am.

“Damn…” I whisper to myself, resting my phone back between my palm and my duvet. A cold breeze brushes past me, causing goose bumps to arise on my skin which I sooth with the warmth of my palm. I glance around my room and through a slightly ajar window, a street light glows onto the pavement below. I press my palms into the bed and push my myself up and approach the window, grabbing the handle and dragging it closer to me. The suction between each pane makes it easier to close it in my still tired state, immediately feeling warmer once I do.

The kitchen wasn’t much warmer than the guest room back upstairs, even if all the windows were now shut. By now, I figured I was far away enough from everyone else that I could turn on a light rather than walking blind in a house I was yet to recognise. My eyes closed anticipation the beams of light whilst my hands scaled the wall, stopping by a panel that stuck out the wall. I traced my fingers across the edge before finding the main switch and pushing with my index finger. My eyelids flicker slightly subconsciously, adjusting slowly to the brightness of the light before opening my eyes weakly.

I hated not knowing where anything was, having to scan the cupboards repeaedtly, hoping to find any sort of glass for some water. I had left doors creaked open as a placeholder for where I had already looked once.

Of course it’s the last place I check.

I sigh, half with relief, the other with anger and reach for a rounded glass directly placed before me. I drag it across the shelf, tightening my grip once half of it is off of it. I place the majority of my weight on the drying board next to sink and hold the glass underneath the faucet. Water steadily streams out of it, dripping down the edge of the glass purposefully as to lessen the sound I create. A small squeak echoes from between my hand and the glass due to my hands grip becoming ineffective.

My body turns and leans against the counter top, pressed firmly into my spine, my lack of concern of the pain reminded me of my tiredness. My elbows lay on the side allowing me to support myself for just a moment. The weight lifted off of my feet allowed me to just exist and dragged myself away from the thoughts I had earlier.

Every attempt to shrug off the tired feeling resulted in failure, grasping my surroundings fully grew harder as time went on. My eyes were narrowing and I had to place my drink down on the side so that I wouldn’t drop it. I had barely drunk any of it however, the only signs of use being the copious amounts of finger prints that outline it.

I was getting overwhelmed and I knew that, the weight of my body, returned much stronger than before.

So did the thoughts.

My mother, constantly needing me even if I needed her. The isolation I’ve had most my life and how one night made me entire mindset crumble. I always enjoyed being alone and in my own silence but since I met Matt all it has done has suffocated me. I dreaded having to leave practice in the mornings when Chris or Nick came along. I couldn’t play my guitar as often at home anymore. Without any drums it felt wrong.

Maybe it was the tiredness or stress but everything came flooding in a sudden moment.

I was tired, just tired. Some rest would calm me down.

“Alyia?” My jolt my head upwards and face where the voice came from, almost panicked. My body, no longer connected to the counter feels the cold air wrap around my back, making me shiver.

“Alyia, what are you doing up.”

“Matt. I’m sorry I couldn’t sleep and I got some water and the light must’ve woken you up.” I spit out words at him, rambling. My hands demonstrate my actions with the remnants of a few cupboards which stayed open.

“It wasn’t you; it was the thunder. I’m a light sleeper so I’m used to it by now.” His fingers pointing to an uncovered window which projects flashes of lights and spits of rainfall.

“Thunder...?”

“Yeah? Its quite loud?” He approaches me and notices my tense state quite quickly. No matter how tired he is, he is always so observant.

“Everything okay?”

“Y-Yeah all fine..why?”

“Really? You are so tense, you’re jumpy at everything. You’ve obviously zoned out for a while if you haven’t even noticed the fucking thunder outside and finally. You haven’t slept. Even If you hadn’t told me, your eyes are red and you are so dazed.”

Wow.

I stand in silence, avoiding any form of eye contact so he couldn’t point anything else out to me. I didn’t need him telling me what I already knew.

“Is this to do with the phone call from your mother last night.” He speaks so bluntly, not trying to avoid any confrontation. Yet, that’s all I wanted to avoid and I think he knew that.

“Alyia.”

“Partially. I don’t know Matt, I’m not in the mood for this, especially with you.”

Shit

“Why not with me…?” He automatically creates a larger distance between us for a moment and dims his voice making it barely audible.

“C’mon. I mean… we hardly know each other, rig-”

“I want to know you.”

I practically freeze in my spot and he rubs his neck softly and drags his palm up and down his arm lightly.

“You do?”

“You doubted that?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t know that, I stay to practise with you when I can, I make extra meetings for the English project simply because they typically end with us hanging out over a movie or something.” He starts to walk closer. “I want to be your friend Alyia. Besides you are one of the only friends I have that Nick hasn’t shit talked right away and that Chris feels comfortable being himself around.”

“I am?”

“You are. And frankly you are fucking awesome at guitar, don’t think those mornings are gonna stop any time soon.”

“I want to be your friend Alyia.” He gives me a genuine smile but I give him a tight-lipped weak one back.

“If you don’t want to talk, I get it, but you don’t have to restrict yourself, okay?” I can only nod in response but he only repeats himself. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He gives a quiet hum and looks at me, his stare lingering slightly. His body turns and he walks back towards the door frame. I watch him as he quickly spins back to face me, leaning against the door frame, his elbow propped against it and his hand dangling just above his hair which is a little more fluffy than normal. His hips swivel slightly and show of a slight v-line when his shirt lifts ever so slightly.

I quickly look away before my body can react.

“Alyia? Promise me you’ll try and sleep later?” I give a small nod, knowing I won’t be able to keep that promise later on.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. That’s fucking new…

He just nods his head and walks around the corner, letting his touch cling to the doorframe as long as possible. He left me in the same place I started in but this time I felt so much more comforted.

He wanted me around, and I could not stop smiling about it.

He saw me in the way I wanted to be seem by anyone for years. Other than Jenny, I had no one else in my life and it felt nice being able to rely on someone else for once.

The drums were a bonus.

-

Following through with Matt’s promise didn’t exactly fulfil itself since I stayed up the remainder of the night. The sun had started to rise not even an hour later and after that, it was a lost cause. While the rays of light that etched through the window helped the tiredness to go away, it lingered for the next few hours, making yawning a common occurrence.

I had returned to the kitchen at about 9am and was greeted by Nick eating some cereal with his back turned to me. It no longer felt as negative as it did a few hours ago but the glass that stayed on the side nearly reminded me of why I went downstairs in the first place.

Suddenly two hands place at my shoulders and squeeze them slightly before speaking loudly into my ear.

“Alyia! Morning.” Chris’s voice wasn’t hard to recognise with it being much louder than the others.

“Hey Chris.” I giggle at his enthusiasm and step to the side allowing him to walk past and immediately run to get a Pepsi replacing the silence with a crack of the can.

Chris’s hands are quickly replaced by Matt’s, his touch feeling gentler than Chris’s.

“Good morning, Alyia…sleep well?” I quietly shake my head I response, brushing a loose strand behind my ear.

His fingers trace down my arm as he walks past me casually to greet Nick and Chris.

I rub my eyes and follow Matt’s actions. The counter top didn’t feel as protruding when I leant on it again but my hand trembled a little when I picked up the glass, the water still cold. I take a deep breath and try and calm down until I remember I had to be back home as soon as possible for my mother.

“Shit…” I mutter under my breath but I get eyes from Nick and Matt, Chris being oblivious as always.

“You alright over there?” Nick placed his spoon back in his bowl and spun the chair to face me.

“Huh? Oh yeah don’t worry, I just need to get back soon for my mother.”

“Does it have to be this soon?” Nick presses the question a little but Matt quickly shuts it down, recalling parts of the phone call from last night.

“Ill drop you back, let me get changed.” He places his root beer by the sink and walks quickly out the room and I hear his footsteps fade.

“You don’t have to- “

“I wouldn’t try that kid, Matt is stubborn, I’d just recommend getting changed too before he drags you out the house like that”. I grimace a little at that but follow Chris’s words none-the-less.

I swiftly grab the clothes from the day before and exchange them, only taking when putting my hair back into its claw clip. I shimmy my skirt down on my hips and tuck my jumper into the front half of it. I gather up the clothes I swapped and fold them roughly and place them on the bed and pull the duvet back to make it as tidy as I could. I go to leave the room and bump into Matt leaving his.

An ordinary black shirt which left his tattoos on show and camo cargos which sagged at his hips causing them to gather at his ankles.

“Oh hi, you ready?”

“Matt, I can take the bu-“

“Awesome, I’ll get my keys” A smile plastered on his face as he ignores my back talk and runs down the stairs like an excitable child.

I just sigh and follow him to gather the small things I took out my backpack last night like my headphones and charger.

I walk past the kitchen almost losing track of Matt in the process, only roughly mapping out the house as I do so.

“Matt you really don’t have to at al-“ I get cut off again by him grabbing my wrist and walking me out the house only allowing me to quickly yell out a goodbye aimed at Nick and Chris.

“I’m not having you protest this, alright kid?” I mutter something dull but reluctantly agree and get into the passenger side of the minivan.

My backpack rested upon my feet and I kick it off to prevent my leg going numb. Although halfway through the drive I had started to hope that I left it on to give me something else to think about other than the silence. It had been 10 minutes and he hadn’t said a single word. All he had done was send me looks that I could feel burning into my skull.

“What?”

“What, what exactly?” He turns his face away from me and grips the steering wheel.

“Don’t play dumb Matt. You keep looking over and haven’t said a thing to me.”

“You didn’t ask to talk to me.”

“We both know that doesn’t stop you. So what is it.”

“Last night… you seemed so off and now suddenly you seem perfectly okay again, makes me curious is all.” His hands fall from the wheel when we approach a red light but I turn away from his gaze to face out my window.

“Stay curious.”

“I know, I know…you don’t wanna tell me. Doesn’t mean I cant wonder about it.”

“I guess…” my voice begins to mumble again.

“Sorry I just…don’t wanna talk about last night, or even think about it.”

“Even what I said to you?” Matt finally points his gaze back onto me again for a moment and I freeze under his words.

“Okay fine, most of last night.” I feel his grin through his words.

“Good, don’t forget that, alright.”

“You can pull over here…” The subject change seemed to change Matt’s attitude quickly as he pulled into the side of the road slowly, the car titling when it hit the curb.

“Thank you for dropping me off” I pull my backpack up to meet my lap.

“Never a problem, call me if you need anything, yeah?” His words subtly pointing to the memories of last night.

Of course I will.

“Where have you been, I’ve been worried sick.” I had just shut the door and already had her voice ringing in my ears.

“Good morning to you too, mother.” I give her a blank stare, holding eye contact as my bag falls off my shoulder and slamming to the floor.

“Now, explain what was more important than seeing your mother after a week of work.”

“I didn’t know you would be home today, you had sai-.”

“I left a voicemail, well your father did.” I tuned out her words after that and pulled my phone out my pocket to check voice mails.

*you have one new message*

“Good morning Ally, your mother and I got held behind in a meeting and missed our flight but we are getting the next one and should be home tomorrow night. We’ll see you then darling. Love you.”

Oh.

“I did tell you Ally, I don’t want to argue.” I pathetically roll my eyes causing her to grimace.

“Alyia, our work is what pays for you to go to that school and we try and be here as much as we ca-“

“So where is father.”

“Alyia. It is rude to interrupt.” She pinches the bridge of her nose before staring at me.

“Where is father.”

“He is doing some small errands, and im going to join him and go shopping, I want you to make sure your homework is done, alright?”

“Yes, mother.” I drag my backpack across the floor as I start to walk up to my bedroom which I slam the door to.

I slump down on my bed and run my fingers through my hair, not caring about the pain that knots in it create. I was never one to enjoy confrontations with my mother, she was just so intense all the time and being blunt to a tired child was never a good combination. We both knew that. My eyes lightly pricked with tears and I felt pathetic for feeling that way.

I saw my over-ear headphones that I had left on charge on my desk and I snatched them from the cable. I turned on my phone again and went on to Spotify and connected my headphones.

The first song that blasted was dark red – Steve lacy

Of fucking course.

© ENDEREIES 2024

@melliflws @axolotllover225 @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @sturniolosmind @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07

[lacerta123]

When I first started playing Pokémon, the first games I actually owned were Soul Silver, followed by Platinum. Before I actually owned either of those games, though, an older neighbor kid would come over and let me play on her DS, and her Soul Silver game was the very first Pokémon game I ever touched. I think she had to coach me on how to walk, and how to battle, and probably on more things. I couldn’t save because the main save file wasn’t deleted. But every time she’d come over I booted up a new save file, and re-chose Cyndaquil, and tried to get as far as possible. When I owned my own games, I didn’t know how to read the move descriptions. I remember being excited to try them out and see what they did. I remember being amused by Metronome for hours. I came to the conclusion that only attacking moves were good to keep, because the others didn’t do any damage. I learned the type chart by seeing what worked and what didn’t. I beat Lance, then moved on to Platinum, and had the time of my life playing with my friends in the Underground. I remember playing on my ds under the covers late at night. And putting a blanket over my head on long car rides so I was shielded from the glare of the sun. I had to figure out the distortion world with some clues from the internet. When I caught Giratina, it gave me chills. And Cynthia felt like the ultimate challenge, her battle theme still causes my heart to race. I beat her after two tries. Later I played Pokémon Black, and ran out of her room when I found her in Undella town. I played Black 2 and saw the conclusion to N’s story. I played Pokémon X at the same time as Pokémon’s 20th anniversary, and I remember cutting out a little Pikachu logo with a two and a zero on its cheeks, and taping it to the back of my ds. I wasn’t going to miss a single event distribution. I remember begging my mom to take me to GameStop to get the event codes. I remember trading with my friends for starter eggs and version exclusives. When ORAS came out, I remember the mirage islands letting me catch the last of the legendaries I needed. I traded them to my Pokémon X and finally completed the Pokédex. The last Pokémon DS game I played was Pokémon moon, with a distinct feeling of annoyance that I no longer owned them all anymore. I could never justify getting a switch, but my love for Pokémon never died. Now I’m playing fan games, Reborn is my current vice.

A lot of things have changed since the DS era ended. But these games are the ones that gave me my love for Pokémon. I can’t quite ever bring myself to play Pokémon in full screen, because it just feels wrong, too far from that little window to another world on my DS. I miss it, but I won’t knock the new games for being different either. The DS is old now, and kids these days will catch their first Pokémon in the overworld. Their first champion might be Leon, or Gita. They may be enchanted by finding area zero, by catching a paradox beast. They might take everything for granted, that this is how it’s always been. And that’s ok. I just hope they’re falling in love with it like I did.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty (Part 5)

It’s not my alarm that wakes me. It’s the sound of the front door slamming. I come to life confused, full daylight beaming in through the windows, their linen curtains still open. I forget where I am for a few moments after what felt like the deepest and most comfortable sleep of my life. I stretch and rub the crusty sleep out of my eyes, and it’s only when I hear a car starting outside that a cold bolt of realisation hits me. What time is it? 

I scramble around in the egyptian cotton sheets for my phone, and panic when I can’t find it. It has to be here somewhere. Maybe the alarm hasn’t gone off yet. Maybe somehow it’s still four in the morning and I still have time to make it for breakfast. I finally find it, cold metal making contact with my palm, and I turn on the screen to be hit with the most stomach wrenching sight I think I’ve ever seen. 

It’s eight o’clock. 

My mind is racing. Did I forget to set an alarm? How could I have done that? Maybe he’s still here. Maybe the flight was delayed. Maybe I’ll catch him before he leaves. I run to the window and look down over the driveway where the car is manoeuvring out onto the road. I pray that Jude will be in it, but he isn’t. It’s just his dad, and he’s just going to work. 

A desperate, panicked noise escapes me and I clamp my hand over my mouth as if the motion will stuff it back into me. I pace back and forth in disbelief. How could I have let this happen? How could I have missed the perfect sunrise breakfast? I think I’m going to be sick. I make a start to rush out into the hallway, just in case his bags are still there and there’s a whisper of a chance that he is too, but something on the floor right by the door stops me. I bend to pick it up. 

It’s a small piece of grey cardboard, a corner torn from what looks like the lip of a cereal box. I turn it over in my hands to see a note scrawled on the back in black marker.

Sweet dreams, Evie. 

See you later, alligator. 

J.

I feel like dropping it on the floor and bursting into tears, but I can’t do that here. Not now. I stuff it into the front pocket of my bag then methodically dress myself, make the bed and pack my pyjamas away, all while feeling I’m on a knife’s edge, quietly pulling myself together, scolding myself for being weak. I take my bag and go out into the hall where, of course, there are no bags, and then I go downstairs, praying that nobody sees me or worse tries to say anything to me for fear that I’ll unravel like a spool of thread rolling across the floor. I go into the piano room where sleeping bodies sprawl over couches, and quickly and seamlessly I slide Goodnight Mr. Tom into my bag. It doesn’t even feel like a choice, I just do it, and then I go straight to the door and I let myself out.

I still don’t cry as I charge down towards the seafront, I’m feeling beyond the point of tears now. I’m bordering on numb, and it’s like too many emotions are flooding my body all at once and all I can do is switch myself off. I don’t look into any of the faces that I pass and the people around me just blur together like smears of paint on canvas. 

I cross over the bridge onto Bull Island, and when I get to the very end of it I sit on a bench beneath the Star of the Sea with my bag at my feet, looking blankly out over the sky. The long arms of Howth and the Great South Wall curl around the bay like they’re trying to embrace me, but I sit frigid and stiff, my jaw set and my face throbbing. The dregs of the summer breeze licks my face and murky waves collide with a tiny scut of beach facing northwards, and I keep my chin pointed upwards, waiting for the planes to cut through the clouds. 

They fly low, cruising to and from the airport not ten kilometres from here, and with each departing flight I imagine that somehow Jude is on it, and maybe that if he could look out the window and really squint his eyes he could see me sitting here, at the edge of the island, wishing him the best and trying my best to hold it all in so that I can pretend that the shattered pieces of me haven’t been blown apart into irretrievable places, that nothing has changed within me, that I’m still the same Evie I was in June, and that I’ll be okay.

 Eventually, maybe, I’ll believe it. 

END OF PART 1

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