#which was a little unfair at the time because I was blindsided by this one WTNV episode which I could not have predicted would trigger me

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 19th January

I’ve been working on so much Vesta stuff this week ahead of the release of season 2, but I still found time to listen to some top notch audio drama! 🥰

🦋 @remnantspod (24) Um, so I’m going to be honest and admit that I listened to about 5 minutes of this episode, realised who it was about and what was about to happen and then got my wife to check the content warnings for me before tactically retreating. I might try again next week or read the transcript when I’m feeling more mentally robust!! 

Take this as your sign to check in with yourself when listening to heavy things!! 💙

🎃 Waiting For October by @monkeymanproductions (3.5) Aw, I feel strangely fond of Auncle Lantern!! I loved all the growing metaphors!! There’s nothing better than thinking you can close a book and leave a story in the pages then realising it’s got its roots in you! 

🧋 @hinaypod (27-30) I felt like Hi Nay really powered me through this week! What a crazy arc that was!! Yet again, I was so upset at having to listen to Mari cry :( pls stop doing this to me!! I loved the twist in Mikey’s tale, revealing his guilt all these years. And, oh my god, Donner name reveal!!!! It’s very suspicious that two Mikey’s have had trouble in the same house. Imagine how different the story might be if an Elder had rescued Donner instead. And, OMG, unless my ears deceive me (which I can’t lie, they often do) YORKSHIRE DOOLEY??? Obsessed. If anything happens to him I will kill everyone in this room etc etc 

🍾 @ameliapodcast (41 + epilogue) I loved hearing these funky Panaraguans finally hash out their differences and come to a mutually beneficial agreement!! This season has had such a fun overarching narrative, but I’m SO excited for the gang to get back together. Imagine hearing Alvina and The Interviewer bickering again. It’ll be music to my ears. 

🌵 @desertskiespodcast (8) Ooh we got some serious Sphere Lore in this episode. I’m particularly side-eyeing the brief glitch that Tendy had after going back into what appeared to be pre-death memory, surely that doesn’t mean anything? Right? Surely… 

I hope everyone has a fantastic week! ✨

[callsignfate]

Jealous Kate x Wife

Day Two of Writemas/Birthday posts! If you want to see the scheduled posts go here If you want to see more posts like this go here Tw: Jealousy, slight possessive behavior, hint at 18+ topics. If I've missed any let me know!

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Kate noticed you back then for your kindness and how willing you were to go the extra mile to see her smile; she noticed it right away.

Now? It didn't change. You left her little notes in her pockets, lunches, always texted her little updates when she was away or busy. The same little heart and your initials that held her last name in them.

People often watched you. Her coworkers who had met you or seen you both out in stores always said they wanted someone that looked at them the way you looked at Kate. You worshipped her and the ground she walked on. At first, it made her embarrassed, the way you always watched her in a room full of other women she thought were easily way more beautiful to her, but they weren't. Not to you. Over the years, she got used to the constant compliments and the comments of you confessing your love to her.

She never expected it, like she was blindsided. A small fancy event that she had invited you to, someone was all over you. You were beautiful, the dress you wore hugged you perfectly, your curves were on full display, and why wouldn't someone flirt with you?

Kate felt a heat in her chest, her face contorted into a small frustrated glare at the woman who she had met only a handful of times. She watched you smile, laugh, even touch her arm when you did. You were always head over heels for her, why would she be worried about some random person that wasn't your type?

"What could they even be talking about that's so damn funny?" Kate hissed out as she brought the glass of champagne to her lips, only letting it wet her lips before she pulled it away.

"Jesus, Kate, they are just talking." Price said, hiding the blatant amusement on his face. He knew she was jealous, overly so, and he was enjoying every second of it. He struggled to wipe the grin off of his face as he looked between you and Kate.

"Just talking my ass, hold this." Kate muttered as she handed her glass to Price. She had heard endless rumors of her flirting with married women and men, rumors of her being a home wrecker. Her talking to you made her mind race with angry thoughts.

She brushed off the tux that she wore as she walked over; you had always said how beautiful she looked in one, and she liked how comfortable she felt in it. She went as far as to unbutton her jacket that was holding it closed, so the inside that matched your dress was proudly showing.

You were facing the other way as you spoke; she could hear your laugh as she wrapped her arms around you and rested her chin on your shoulder. She was quiet as she spoke with her eyes on the woman she wanted you to have nothing to do with. Ever.

"Oh- Love. We were just talking about you." You said happily as you smiled at her on your shoulder, your body reacting to her touch in an unfair way.

Kate hummed to acknowledge what you said as she brushed your hair out of the way and onto your other shoulder. Her eyes never left the woman who she felt was still too close to you.

"We were talking about uh- when you came to a meeting all disheveled because you couldn't find your favorite pen." The woman said nervously. She felt as Kate could see through her, like she wasn't even truly there. Like she was exactly what she was to Kate, nothing.

"I actually was disheveled because I was having an intimate moment with my wife in my office, I don't have a favorite pen." Kate said with a sly smile on her face as she covered your mouth to prevent you from denying and saying anything after you let out a small shocked gasp.

"Speaking of which, I need my wife back; enjoy the rest of the event." Kate said before she rested her hand on the small of your back and gently held your hand in hers as she led you away.

You gasped and shook your head playfully at Kate, "Jealous Kate isn't something I know I needed." You mumbled quietly before Kate offered a smile.

"Yea well- why don't you see Jealous bedroom Kate, might need her more." Kate said before she kissed your temple and led you to leave the dry and boring event, her eyes scanning the room as she saw Price lift his glass up to her with a knowing smile and a small laugh as his shoulders shook.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

If you want to see the scheduled posts go here If you want to see more posts like this go here

[scenetocause]

what is the untitled document wip u are most enjoying writing rn and which one is like pulling teeth

the untitled document i am most enjoying writing is an unhinged pub au that i've got totally way too far into casting everyone in and not really writing any plot. unfortunately due to the horrors i haven't had much time for writing it but every now and then i get blindsided with inspiration for a little skit and just add it to the gdoc. it is mostly an excuse for me to make little jokes under the veiled construct of the pub sandbox but isn't that how any good environmental au setting should work?

sadly the one like pulling teeth is the girloscar sequel because it's shockingly angsty, for me. also because i had to go back and change it to all oscar's perspective, instead of switching between them. which was the right way to do it but it means rewriting lots of bits and using my brain, the first of which i hate and the second of which i'm just not good at. (don't worry! they are fine! it is not them causing the angst!)

have some uninged pub au under the cut

“I’m really sorry about this,” the guy does actually look sorry, is the thing. “I just posted a photo of the table to my Instagram story and I didn’t think-”

“Boys never do,” one of the girls in the group rolls her eyes and Oscar nearly feels compelled to point out that actually, when he was at Prema College he did think. Quite a lot. Fat lot of good that did him but still. 

“Right, so.” Lando has his tongue slightly out of his mouth, putting his glasses on to squint at the till. “We’re refunding, to check, 24 portions of beans?”

“Yep.” The guy’s too tall to be cringing the way he is. “Please don’t bar us?”

“Happens all the time,” Oscar sighs. “Have you got ID, anyway?”

“Oh yes, no problem.” The guy, whose name is Oliver and date of birth gives even Oscar slight time vertigo, scrambles to shove his driving license across the bar. As do the two girls. 

“And you, too-” the short, curly-haired guy is trying to hide behind one of the girls, whose name is apparently Tina. 

“Oh fuck, Kimi.” The Oliver guy is a new type of embarrassed. “Come on, man. When’s your birthday, for fuck’s sake?”

Lando takes his glasses off to pinch his nose. “He’s over 16, right?”

That gets a - slightly unfair - glance from Tina that suggests she might not believe Lando’s old enough to be here, either. 

“Yes of course, see I have my license-”

“Provisional license-” the girls really have the upper hand over these two.

“Alright, well, you can stay until 9. And no alcohol for him,” Oscar gives the girls, who he’d guess are in charge of this outing, his hardest glare for emphasis. “And don’t put your table number on TikTok next, right?”

[faebriel]

i’d love to hear abt that first modern au you mentioned (the Niki centric one)

link to where the au was mentioned here! going to say big content warning for suicide on this one because it is literally about c!wilbur's suicide in a modern au context

oh yeah that one is freaking tragic. okay so essentially the original l'manberg crew all lived near each other and were good friends in relative late teens-early twenties harmony (i imagined this fic being set in aust because of course i did... more on that later) and wilbur ends up working in electoral offices. unfortunately for as much as he loves politics, politics does not love him back - he has a lot of deep-seated issues with anxiety and paranoia which only exacerbate with the stress he takes on at work. after taking on some big new role he moves across the country with tommy, who manages to drag tubbo with them. niki and fundy make him promise to stay in touch and predictably he does not. the few times niki does manage to get a hold of him, he's evasive; when fundy yells at him over the phone, he does little to disparage the insults. the rest of so-called l'manberg moves apart.

and then wilbur dies.

it is extremely bad. the only friends or family to speak of that wilbur had in his new home were tommy and tubbo - tubbo is very barely keeping things together enough to sort out paperwork and funeral proceedings and the other grim administration that follows an unexpected death, and tommy is not keeping things together at all. the news rocks the far-flung members of their once-little family. wilbur had been distant, maybe down on himself - but no one expected him to kill himself. niki didn't. niki had just trusted that this was some adjustment period and he would be okay and wilbur would start replying to her texts again or maybe even move back and it would be okay. this wasn't supposed to be the end. the news absolutely wrecks her, and she can't tell how much of her is sad and how much of her is angry and how much of her is a fucked up combination of both - a seething mass of barely-held-back tears and shouting.

niki, who had moved back to their childhood city in the interim, books a flight across the state to go see tommy and tubbo for the funeral. she is alarmed and pissed off to run into phil and techno at the airport, on the very same flight as her - wilbur's dad and his uhh techno (dad's friend? brother-ish-person? acquaintance? no one could get a consistent story out of them). they're not super happy to run into her and her attitude either - wilbur had not been close with his family even while l'manberg operated as a unit, and niki had made her judgements of his family accordingly. in a very c!niki way. i.e. with stubborn vindictiveness. if wilbur was struggling so much that even she didn't realise the severity until it was too late, where was his family?

phil and techno, on the other side of the coin, had figured that wilbur's friends were nothing to be impressed with - especially given wilbur's apparent struggles with mental health that kind of blindsided them. where were his friends? i'm assuming they might have taken an incidental reputation hit in letters wilbur wrote to phil as he tried to stress that everything in his life was going Perfectly.

(niki blames phil and techno because the alternative means that she has to blame herself. she needs to lash out at something to survive! phil and techno blame wilbur's friends (not just niki, she's just the one who is standing there...) because the alternative means blaming themselves. they're all being a bit shitty and spewing these unfair takes on each other because no one can cope with the idea that it's their fault their friend/son died.)

anyway airport! they snip and bitch their way at each other through check-in until it happens that the flight is indefinitely delayed due to freak weather or something - but all three of them need to cross the country by like, early next week to make it to the funeral. they do not have time for flight delays.

so eyeing each other with suspicion - and knowing damn well they are going to the exact same place - they trundle over to the hire car service, and find a wagon available for them to hire right away.

the catch is (probably because niki is too young to hire a car on her own. sorry niki) they have to hitch a ride together.

(okay circling back to the australia setting thing! imagine niki, phil and techno living in sydney, and wilbur, tommy and tubbo moving to perth. driving from sydney to perth and vice versa is A Thing, although it's far less common now due to air fares becoming more accessible. y'know driving across the nullabor? it's like, that plus the little bit between adelaide and sydney. if you're gunning it (for example, if you have three drivers to tag-team between), you can make it from sydney to perth in 3 and a half days. now, you'd probably only want to go that fast for something really important, like if you were driving to a friend's funeral with his shitty family who you've decided that you hate.)

oh, also they find a kid in the parking lot who begs them to take him with them when they tell him that the flight was cancelled - he's in an absolute tizzy because his online friend has had something really bad happen, like really bad, and he impulsively bought a plane ticket because he needs to go see him now now now. they let ranboo in because they're so nice and also because techno peer pressures him into stealing them potato chips for the road or something idk

anyway! hence ensues three and a half days of bonding as niki, phil and techno are stuck in a car with nothing but each other and their grief (and ranboo). they talk about wilbur. they realise there are things one of them knew about wilbur that the others didn't. they watch stars stream past as they constantly drive and the sunrise spill over the sand when they pause at a rest stop to get more food and water. they share different parts of wilbur's life that they were each there for - phil has the baby stories, but niki has every stupid anecdote from uni. they bond with each other independent of wilbur. niki and techno talk about baking and try to kick each other in the sand when they stop to stretch their legs. ranboo sees a kangaroo for the first time (how?). phil reveals the absolute blowout fight he and wilbur had shortly before wilbur died and for the first time since the phone call from fundy, niki doesn't blame someone for his death

i'm just thinkin.....they've stopped for the night out in the middle of nowhere, its an endless orange dustbowl as far as the eye can see, night sky stretching up above them. they're miles away from anything but a petrol station, and the stars are brilliantly bright. and someone just says, "wilbur would have loved this"

eventually they do make it across the country - right on time, they have to take turns getting changed into their funeral blacks in the back of the car as the others guard the windows - and they're tentatively, but permanently, friends. and then they can grieve.

(and yes, the second they find tommy and tubbo in the crowd, ranboo comes out of nowhere to scoop tubbo up into a hug and ask if he's alright - because yes, the world is That Fucking Small.)

anyway. i imagine it being a very melancholic piece - very fraught tone at the beginning as everyone is grieving and can't handle that so they shove all their grief and confusion into anger and shove it at each other, picking petty fights until they realise they are literally not going to back it across if they don't pull their shit together. they try to get along, but the only thing they know they have in common is wilbur. and from there the assumptions spill out, followed by the corrections to those assumptions, then the stories, then how they're all feeling... eventually they settle on the fact that, well, wilbur's dead. they can kick around who they blame and whose fault it is (including their own) for the rest of their lives, and it's never going to bring them back. so instead, they lean on each other - knowing extremely keenly what each other is going through as they process all that cloudy confusion and anger and devastation in the direct aftermath so they can all properly grieve, and properly lay wilbur to rest.

[kyndaris]

Humdrum Blues

A couple of days after what felt like an excellent and fun date with Shrek, I had a meet-up with another of the hopefuls. His codename? Honestly, it’s pretty hard to come up with these. And there wasn’t anything about him that really jumped out. So, for now, let’s simply call him ‘Spring.’ The other ones I thought of using would only serve to be insulting for a group of individuals that I somewhat connect with but don’t delve as deeply with.

What to say about Spring? Well, initially, he initially portrayed himself as a worldly individual. After all, with borders lifted and international travel reinstated, he was enjoying a quick holiday in London (of all places)! In the land of Harry Potter and mythical legends, he was enjoying the sights and sounds of a proper autumn.

To be frank, I was perfectly jealous. After all, I had wanted to visit the UK again back in 2020. Of course, those dreams were summarily dashed with the coming of COVID-19.

So, after a few chats - where I complimented his cosplay game (although he didn’t actually make them himself), he was eager for a meet-up in person. Consequently, he set up a date a few days after his return to Sydney. That day, of course, being a Monday. For him, it was fine. He was, after all, still on leave and could enjoy a workday outing without the pressure of work the next day. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite take into account my own circumstances: a working woman that had a job in the new central business district (CBD) in the heart of Western Sydney. But hey, I’m a flexible lady. So, I accepted going on a date. On a Monday.

When we first started chatting, Spring was eager to show me around the city and talked about all the Japanese food in and around the Galeries (which, honestly, I could have also told him about), but then he forwent all our previous discussions and asked if I liked Italian. Blindsided a little and a bit miffed that I wouldn’t be enjoying sushi or a nice bento set, I told him that Italian was fine. Armed with that knowledge, he made arrangements for a meet up outside an Italian restaurant near the Apple Store on George Street in the heart of the city. 

Little did I know that he hadn’t actually booked anything. He was hoping to wing it because it was a Monday night and there wasn’t that many people out and about.

If I could shake him, I would. Who flip flops this much in life? Still, at this stage, I didn’t quite know about his tendency to posit suggestions before changing his mind abruptly. Forget women, Spring is the very epitome of Katy Perry’s Hot N Cold. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

After arriving at the city a bit earlier than the designated meeting time, I made a pitstop at Kinokuniya to take a look through the new released at Kinokuniya. Even then, I arrived at the restaurant with minutes to spare. Spring was already there, though, staring at his phone as he waited. 

Introductions were then properly made before we entered the establishment. Seated at our table, we made our own separate orders on our phone and then chatted as we waited for the food to arrive.

So far, so good.

And yet, to be perfectly honest, dear readers, after what felt like a great date with Shrek, I was already highly resistant to the idea of this one going anywhere. Which, I realise now, was very unfair to Spring. Maybe if I had given him more of a chance at the start? Or been more open? 

Alas, I was already pinning my hopes on Shrek. 

Despite starting at a disadvantage, Spring was still able to draw me into a proper conversation. At least for a while. We chatted about his recent trip overseas and the flaws of the London Underground. We even talked about how odd it was that they had commercialised their transit system. There was also some chatter about hobbies and interests. As well as our approaches to finding love on the dating app.

Spring was very adamant about the fact that he only had the capacity to chat with one person at a time. Whereas I’d opened up my options by playing the field a little by chatting to multiple people and then comparing each individual I did meet (either in real life or online)  to see what it was that I wanted out of a relationship and whether or not we might be compatible. After all, there was no guarantee of anything in life and it seemed foolish to waste time and energy by investing into the wrong person. Especially if I wasn’t very interested in them as a life partner. Something it seems Spring knew about intimately for, shortly afterwards, he told me that he had dated two women previously. Both relationships had lasted about a year before he broke up with them. Why? Because he hadn’t grown feelings for them and felt that they weren’t as invested in his interests as he was. This was, also, despite them trying to learn more about his hobbies and actively trying to make the relationship work.

Never once, during our chat, did he ever mention if he bothered to learn what his previous girlfriends liked. Or being invested in their hobbies or interests. Initially, during the date, I thought little of this fact, and was actually trying to advise him that many of my married friends didn’t always share the exact same passion for every little thing. Nor were they joined at the hip. For that kind of codependency and devotion was nigh impossible. I told him that as long as the couple share a certain outlook on life and have similar values, there is a strong chance that love can eventuate. Spring didn’t seem convinced and I walked away from the date knowing that I certainly didn’t feel like I was up to ‘loving’ everything that he did and eschewing my own likes.

Of course, by the time I had given it some thought and was telling my work colleagues about the sordid details of my date the next day, I began to realise how problematic Spring’s wants in a relationship were. And yet, pressured after having a belly full of pasta, I’d agreed to a second date! Curse my luck!

After all, when it comes to most fandoms, I skirt across the surface. In all honesty, it’s best to describe me as a jack of all interests and master of none. And perhaps that’s a good thing. Because I certainly don’t want my personality to just be defined by a single label: weeb, gamer, writer, reader, etc. I indulge in a lot of different shows, exposing myself to a variety of genres. I like dabbling in different side projects when I have time and mixing it up on the odd occasion (or as my routine allows). True, I have a few favourites but I like to keep my mind open to new things.

Spring, on the other hand, seemed very focused and intense on what he liked. The feeling I got was that he wasn’t one that would expand much of his horizons. And so, what he wanted from a relationship was basically a social media echo chamber. His future partner had to share the same interests. No doubt, they also had the share the same ships. The same opinions. And literally be a female clone of him.

That, to me, was not something that I wanted to be a part of. It spoke of a very self-centred viewpoint. Relationships, based on the things I’ve read and witnessed are about compromise and open communication.

And, maybe it’s an idealistic viewpoint, but I don’t want to feel beholden to someone else’s view. I am independent. i am woman. And to quote Katy Perry once again: Hear me roar!

There are multiple facets to who I am. Watch as I troll my friends about male representing nipples and in the next second, see me flop on the couch, controller in hand as I game. I am unapologetic in what I like and I am blunt in my assessments of others. And yet, if we are good friends, though I might tease and talk shit to get a laugh, I like to think that I’m also a good listener. A shoulder to cry on when the going gets tough. And also readily available to provide acts of service to those in need without thought of reward or recompense.

Fortunately for you, dear readers, I was unable to close the chapter on Spring at the end of the first meetup. And so, of course, there’s a part two to this tale. I hope you enjoy my poor decision-making skills!

[nolongerdani]

of turtles and anthropology

People always raved (or ranted) about Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life. It is part of my reading list, but after multiple trigger warnings and emotional distress posted by lots of readers, coupled with my interest on anything anthropological thanks to Lily King’s Euphoria, I picked up The People in the Trees by Yanagihara instead. 

And boy, was it a fucking trip.  (Spoiler warning)

Anthropological novels (well, so far with my experience with Euphoria by Lily King) always tackle the concept of white imperialism. And it has a formula, a group of anthropologists discover a tribe, study their culture, their social structure, their practices and traditions. And of course there’s always that moral, that lesson, that people of color also have their own culture, own civilization, that frankly, don’t need conversion by a white dominant culture or power. But there’s also always that one greedy character that in some way or somehow, ruins the civilization either by imposition of their dominant culture or disrespecting the community or some other destructive white thing, all in the name of glory, or some personal goal that the character wishes to attain. The People in the Trees has all that, with an added touch of magical realism, thanks to a mysterious turtle who allegedly when eaten, prolongs the life of one that eats it. 

Yanagihara writes so intricately, her fictionalized anthropological site was a treat to the senses, you could really feel being in that remote island yourself, seeing bizarre species of trees, fruits, flowers, and animals; smelling all sorts of smells, and living that survivor life as the anthropologists and a doctor in this journey. I also love how she characterized Dr. Norton Perina -- a stereotypical white man who yearns for glory, for that feeling of fulfillment -- complex and  unlikeable, but in the majority of the book, you’ll find yourself sympathizing with him, whether or not you are critical with white imperialism (which, you should be!). The thing is, the book gets you blindsided by who Dr. Norton really is, until you get to the last part of the book -- to the post script. 

The novel is written memoir style, and opens with a series news articles about Dr. Norton Perina -- how his career changed because of a discovery, his adoption of 46 children from the tribe he had studied, and how his career and reputation suffered because he was accused of sexual assault by one of his adopted children. Narrating this novel is Dr. Robert Kubodera, a close friend of Dr. Perina, who wishes to clear his name. He was a genius, this was a mistrial, an unfair humiliation on his part. He releases Perina’s memoir in his own words with him as the editor. And so the novel begins. 

The thing is, and what blows my mind about this novel and how it’s written, is how it depicts human greed in such a number of ways -- through humans wanting to attain immortality, the science race at the expense of human life, and well, the gross misuse of cultural (to an extent, moral) relativism. It does all these things through the life of Dr. Perina. 

Throughout the novel, you’re teetering between wanting to feel sympathy for Dr. Perina or hate him. And it happens lots of times in the novel. It happens so many times that until you reach the part where he’s adopted all these children in a supposed self-punishment for the disrespect that he has done to that tribe and start actually feeling sorry for him, you are slapped with the reality that he’s actually white trash. A white, pedophilic trash. And you hate him even more after you realized that the things he witnessed and excused in the tribe -- namely, the raping ritual of young boys to open themselves to their sexuality, the absence of any sort of sexual taboo -- encouraged him to use cultural relativism to his advantage, that all along, he made excuses for his behavior towards his children, molesting them just because they were from this tribe. That just because he “saved” them from the ruin of the tribe that he played a part of. The novel gradually makes you see the impacts of white imperialism from its smallest of units to the biggest of magnitudes --  how it destroyed a whole-ass Micronesian (though fictionalized) nation. 

And the writing with which it took you through all these emotions are just mindblowing. It proves the author’s ability to be able to get you under their spell that you find yourself so engrossed in this intricate, riveting piece of work. 

A brilliant work, indeed. 

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 9

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

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Chapter 9

CW: blood

This chapter has 2 versions: a T-rated one here on Tumblr and an E-rated one on Ao3. The plot is the same, but there’s smut on the Ao3 version.

Liam hadn’t meant to find himself out for drinks with another man. Not that there really could be another, of course. Liam didn’t have a lover, a husband, a significant other. Only a best friend whom he loved with all his heart, but who had a string of lovers of his own— young, confident, attractive people. Liam possessed only one of those qualities now, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever had all three.

A week ago, Kurt had drunk Liam’s blood, and made a heartfelt speech about how much he valued him. But he’d turned Liam down for sex, and Liam understood why. Kurt was not in love with him, and never had been. Liam had accepted this fact a very long time ago. It was only in the past couple of weeks that he’d come to question it, after he’d received the first threatening letter in 18 years, and Kurt had gotten so upset. He’d been frightened and angry, and Liam’s poor heart had taken that to mean something that it didn’t.

So when Liam’s colleague, Chris Mullens, had shyly asked him to get a drink, Liam had been unable to think of a reason why not. And now here he was, at a bar with a glass of red wine, for the first time in a very long while trying to imagine being with someone other than Kurt. Imagining a chest bared to his touch, but without scars from flint arrowheads. Imagining eyes that didn’t glow in the dark when their owner forgot to make them look human. Imagining a touch that was new and startling instead of fond and familiar.

It felt wrong, and sad, and tragic, and very unfair to Chris. They were friends, and Liam was supportive of Chris beginning to accept himself as a bisexual man, but Liam’s heart was not strong enough for this. He’d have to accept tonight as just being good practice for the both of them.

Liam lived close enough to campus to walk home, but Chris offered him a ride from the bar. Neither of them had drunk much, so Liam accepted. He didn’t expect to see Kurt standing in his driveway, because he’d thought Kurt and Allie had plans. Liam definitely did not expect Chris to be able to see him too.

“Oh,” said Chris, in a flustered sort of voice. “You’re still friends with, um—”

“Kurt,” Liam said absently, bewildered.

“Gosh, I don’t think he’s aged a day since I saw him all those years ago,” Chris said. “Memorable guy. Those blue eyes. Well, listen, you’ve got company. I’ll, uh— I’ll see you around.”

“Of course. Thanks for the drink.” Liam climbed out of the car, and watched Chris drive off.

Kurt was looking displeased, and it got worse when Liam, rather than saying hello, demanded, “What do you look like?”

“Oh,” Kurt said, clearly blindsided. “Um— that depends.”

“Chris thinks you have blue eyes. I see green.”

“Yeah, Chris.” Kurt followed Liam into the house. “So, you were out— out with Chris, then? I didn’t realize you two—”

“Weren’t you supposed to be out with Allie?”

Kurt paced around the living room a little bit rather than sit down. “I canceled.”

Liam groaned. “Kurt, for the last time, Chris is not the one sending me those threatening letters. He’s a perfectly normal, awkward, queer history professor, just like me.”

“I know,” Kurt said. “I checked out everyone close to you, years ago.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

Liam glanced around at the living room lamps, which were being gradually smothered by a heavy, dark atmosphere. “Right. Fine. What do you look like?”

“Like you see me.” Kurt gave Liam a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring.

“Green eyes?”

“Green eyes. Dark hair. The rest of it— I mean, my appearance—” Kurt frowned, and the living room got a little darker. “We haven’t talked about this.”

“I know you put a lot of effort into looking human,” Liam said, as gently as he could. “I guess what I mean is, what did you look like before? At Tollense, before you became whatever it is you are now.”

“I don’t know.” Kurt sounded distant, as if he were trying to find his way along a faraway path. “But like this, I think. A little younger, maybe. I change it for other people, but with you, I’m mostly just me.”

“Why?”

Kurt gave him a wry, sort of embarrassed smile, and the room atmosphere lightened a bit. “I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

“Good lord,” Liam said. “What do my students think you look like? A Greek god? An underwear model?”

“You find me attractive enough like this?” Kurt asked, his eyebrows raised.

Liam figured the answer to that was obvious. “Wait, so you were trying to seduce Chris?”

Kurt put up his hands. “No, no. I was, um— look, when I met Chris at that conference, I wasn’t sure if he was the one sending the letters. So to him I look— very intimidating.”

“Intimidating.”

“You know, six foot three, really muscular.”

Liam gave a snort of laughter. “I can’t imagine you looking like that. Wait, show me.”

“No. I don’t like to use the mind control on you.”

“But you already are,” Liam pointed out. “You don’t have to, you know. You could show me the real thing. No human mask.”

“No.”

Liam had never been more tempted to give the man a hug. “You know I’m not scared of you.”

“There is no way in hell I am risking that.”

Liam sighed in exasperation. “Fine. What are you doing here, then? What made you cancel your date?”

“I— I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why?”

“Because I could tell you were with Chris.”

“I thought you said you knew he wasn’t sending the letters.”

“No, I just— I didn’t expect you to go out with him, is all. I mean, I didn’t know you and he—”

“We’re not. It was just drinks. We’re better friends than anything.”

“Oh.” Kurt sounded relieved, and the atmosphere of the room lightened several degrees.

Liam looked at him in shock. “Are you— I know you’re not jealous. I mean— you said yourself you weren’t trying to seduce me.”

“I wasn’t.” Rather than angry now, Kurt seemed fragile, as if all that tension was the only thing holding him together. “I kept telling myself that. I still do.”

“You never would have had to,” Liam whispered.

Kurt made a low growling noise, and he was suddenly close enough to grasp Liam and pull him into a kiss that was unlike anything Liam had ever experienced before. He could feel Kurt’s tongue lick into his mouth, tasting him, could feel Kurt’s arms hard around him, one hand cupping the back of his head to hold him in place. But at the same time, the world had vanished away and there was only Kurt, making Liam feel that he was both falling freely and being held securely at the same time.

*********

Read the E-rated ending on Ao3 or continue for the T-rated ending. The plot is the same, but there’s smut on the Ao3 version.

**********

“Liam,” Kurt growled. “Let me have you. Let me finally have you.”

There was no need for Liam to say yes when he knew Kurt could feel the answer already. Liam kissed him again, and found himself lifted as if he weighed nothing, pressed against his living room wall, kissing and kissing as if he didn’t need air any longer to live, but just Kurt.

Kurt lowered his head to nip at Liam’s throat, and Liam could feel what he wanted. Liam let his answer become clear, and immediately felt the sharp bite of fangs into his throat. But there was no dizziness this time. Kurt wasn’t taking much blood. Instead he was just tasting Liam, licking and sucking at him as if he were delicious.

As the blood flowed into Kurt’s mouth, Liam could feel them being bound tighter and tighter together as if they were tied to each other and not the world anymore.

And as Liam expected, Kurt’s eyes glowed brighter and he started to lose his grip on his human appearance. Eventually the man kissing Liam was only partly a man, and partly something else that was very old and very strong and very gentle with him. Liam could sense it better with his eyes closed to the mask Kurt was trying so hard to keep up. He could hear things then, like the flap of wings, and taste not just two fangs, but a whole mouth full of sharp teeth that were careful not to bite.

Liam stroked down the arches of wings erupting from Kurt’s back, exploring and savoring with his eyes closed. The wings extended and flapped under Liam’s attention, and Kurt groaned in obvious pleasure. “Fuck, Liam,” he growled. “I’m going to keep you here all night.”

All night wasn’t a very long time compared to three thousand years, but Liam was grateful for whatever he was going to get.

************

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Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Coming Nov 12: "My Hero," my next serial romance. An investigative reporter falls for her kickass female bodyguard, while trying to conceal the fact that she doesn’t need a bodyguard because she has super powers.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

[enderspawn]

dream smp asagao au, aka the very specific high school au

also aka the post thats very self indulgent for me and maybe 3 other people.

in short: its a dsmp high school au based on the game asagao academy, where everyone is part of a gaming club and compete against one another in tournaments. more in depth info about the AU/Asagao itself, as well as more info about the plot and roles of the AU itself.

Asagao Academy Basics

So to start, let’s cover the basics: what is Asagao Academy. ….well, an old Youtuber dating sim game (which, despite unfortunately including some fairly questionable CCs, IS still really good and well written and I recommend it) But what is it for AU purposes?

Asagao Academy is a highly elite world-wide boarding school set in Japan for those who are either rich enough to afford it, or those skilled enough to get scholarships. Within the game, there are two main clubs: Normal Boots and Hidden Block. They’re both gaming clubs, and joining is seen as super exclusive since they’re ALSO the most popular people in the school.

The two clubs compete with each other in various tournament events with specific categories. For example: Satch (from NB) and Jimmy (from HB) both compete in the “Tech and Invention” category, where they have to create/invent something related to gaming and have it judged at the event like a science fair. Meanwhile, Jared (from NB) and Wallid (from HB) both compete in “Dance” aka DDR and the person with the highest score wins.

The other categories featured in game include: Puzzle games (like Bejeweled or Tetris), Video Game Trivia, Pinball, Retro Platformers, a three-person fighting game, and 100% completion speedruns. So tldr; the categories can be kind of fiddled with and be whatever you want them to be, because even the original ones are pretty wack.

Also, there’s no rules against competing in multiple categories— in fact, most of the HB members in game do! It’s more about balancing time and practicing for them alongside school and other activities.

The winner of the competition is the team/competitor(s) with the most total wins.

Another thing to note: despite competing as clubs, they’re all actually pretty good friends. It’s all lighthearted and fun in the end, hell the leader of the opposing club even helps the main character join the main club just because he wants a decent challenge.

Speaking of… the main character! Hana Mizuno! I don’t have any current plans to include her in this AU (a la new dating routes), but I wanted to mention her for a few reasons.

For the main reason: her hair. Even as soon as she shows up, Mai (her best friend and roommate, who can break the 4th wall) immediately calls her out for her hair for looking like a main character which as we learn… isn’t an exaggeration. She’s literally a born protagonist, thus being born with naturally pink hair and a tragic backstory. Not only that, but other people are also born protagonists with pink hair as well— she isn’t an exception.

About the AU -- Revolution Era

A few things to note: in this au, when I first drafted it I… wasn’t looking to include 20+ people. I cut a lot of characters, but instead working with the idea that they’re still THERE, they just… don’t compete? Either they aren’t in the club and are just friends with the members, or they’re members who just don’t compete professionally. It’s nothing personal against those CCs and tbh as times goes they may get added more, but for now they’re just in the BG vibin.

It covers a really basic retelling of s1 for most of the planned au. It starts with One Club: the Dream Team. Members include: Dream (sophomore), Sapnap (sophomore), George (junior), Wilbur (junior), Eret (junior), and Fundy (freshman).

For reasons, possibly just as a goof or spite towards their American counterparts, Wilbur declares independence from the Dream Team and makes his OWN gaming club: L’Manberg. He takes Eret (a close friend from his grade) and Fundy (the freshman he immediately adopted) with him, causing the two teams to be 3v3.

But Wilbur’s got a dastardly surprise up his sleeve: TOMMY, HIS YOUNGER BROTHER (bc I am nothing if not a dedicated crimebros stan), AND TUBBO. They’re both too young to actually attend Asagao yet, but theres no age rules in the actual competitions so its fair play. They’re Wilbur’s secret weapon. After all, a 5v3 where the team with the most wins wins the competition? That’s a massive advantage.

… we all know how this goes though don’t we. Wilbur’s day be so fine, then BOOM, Eret betrayal 😔

In this case Eret feels it’s a LITTLE unfair to blindside them like that, plus Dream promised to make him the Leader of the Dream Team and, yknow, that kind of stuff DOES look good on resumes, so…

TLDR; Eret rejoins the Dream Team crew, as well as informing them of Wilbur’s plan with including Tommy and Tubbo and becomes leader. They’re still letting Dream and Co. basically actually do the leading, they don’t care that much, the title is just nice. L’Manberg cusses her out and promises to hold a grudge, but it’s all in good fun. After all, they’re just teens goofing around and playing. The clubs are again 4v4.

Dream tells the L’Manberg club that they can separate, sure… under one condition. They have to win the competition. If they lose, they have to rejoin the Dream Team club.

L’Manberg accepts, but come competition day… they lose. Tommy outright challenges Dream post awards to a speedrun competition for L’Manberg instead. …which Dream professionally competes in, and Tommy DOESN’T.

He loses, but he puts up a good fight despite having little to no actual practice put in, so Dream “grants” L’Manberg their “Independence”. (In this au, instead of being like… weirdly obsessive over Tommy, it’s a lot more “he sees himself in Tommy and wants to support/mentor him” and a “friendly rivalry” kind of deal bc its a damn HIGH SCHOOL AU)

So L’Manberg can be it’s own club! …Next year, when Tommy and Tubbo actually attend, since Wilbur and Fundy aren’t allowed a two person club.

About the AU -- Election Era

SO time skip! Congrats, everything up to now has been BACKSTORY. It’s now the next school year, with two main clubs (I’ve tried to keep them fairly balanced, which is why not all CCs are featured, sorry!)

Dream Team club:

Dream - junior

George - senior

Sapnap - junior

Eret - senior

Punz - junior

BBH - senior

Awesamdude - junior

Ponk - junior

L’Manberg club:

Wilbur - senior

Tommy - freshman

Tubbo - freshman

Fundy - sophomore

Schlatt - senior

Quackity - junior

Niki - sophomore

Jack - sophomore

(Also fun fact! Their grades are loosely based on the CCs actual ages! …Except Fundy, who got Baby-fied to fit the “Wilbur’s Kid” joke, and Eret bc it fit better to be the same age as Wilbur I thought. Oops HEKANDNSN)

So, for whatever Reason (listen this was an au I made in like one night when plagued with brainrot, it’s not all figured out), L’Manberg holds an election. Maybe it’s related to Wilbur wanting L’Manberg to be meaningfully different from Dream Team, maybe it’s a joke, idk!

…. SOMEHOW, Schlatt wins. Which ticks off Wilbur a lot. It’s his damn club, and the whole point was to avoid Americans, tf?? The two start to feud a lot and it threatens to split the club entirely via ppl taking sides. Worse, it means people aren’t practicing for the competition.

All while this is happening, there’s a new intrigue building. Dream catches word of an infamous player in the area, someone known to win entire competitions against teams of people all by HIMSELF. A man with bright bubblegum pink hair called Technoblade. That’s right, literal universe-assigned protagonist Techno. If Dream could enlist him, there’s no doubt in hell they’d be able to beat L’Manberg.

L’Manberg hears of him too and works to try and enlist him as well, so he basically gets courted by both clubs trying to get him to play for them to mixed results. He’s pretty chill vibin by himself, so what’s in it for him? (….I don’t know, remember how this is a WIP au I worked on once?)

Eventually, a teacher named Phil (who’s been the honorary sponsor of the L’Manberg club) gets pissed at Schlatt and Wilbur’s fighting and bans both from competing (aka this AUs version of them dying). Which fucking SUCKS for L’Manberg. They’re now going 6v8 with a wildcard player who’s undeclared on which side he’ll join, if at all.

… honestly, that’s as far as I got. Theoretically, Techno joins L’Manberg to reflect Pogtopia and they win. I never had plans to go into s2 due to its darker theme, but there are definitely changes that could (and might?) be made for the s1 plot just so it flows better.

I already had to shift Wil and Schkatt’s “deaths” to fit, unless I were to have them LITERALLY make a new club. Maybe Schlatt uses his power as Club President to make them work with Dream Team (to the point it basically merges the clubs). Sure, they might be guaranteed to win now but it removes the competition and fun as well as the spirit of OG L’Manberg. So then Wilbur rebels and makes his own club AGAIN, calling it Pogtopia with the intent to get L’Manberg back. Then Techno, intrigued with this group of like 2-3 ppl going against a team of like 13ish people, decides to join them. Idk! Alternative possible plot based more closely on s1 I guess!

I’m gonna add a list of characters in full with their age, their club, and what they compete in (if it’s already brainstormed, most ppl are unknown) below

Character List

dream (DT) - junior - speedrunning

george (DT) - senior - coding/tech and invention

sapnap (DT)- junior -

eret (DT) - senior -

wilbur (LM) - senior - rhythm game/guitar hero-esque

tommy (LM) - freshman - (possibly pick up speed running during election arc?)

tubbo (LM) - freshman - chess

fundy (LM) - sophomore - coding/tech and invention

schlatt (LM) - senior - he never actually declares what he plans to play and then gets banned anyway, aka no game kekw

quackity (LM)- junior - dance

niki (LM) - sophomore -

jack (LM) - sophomore-

punz (DT) - junior -

bbh (DT) - senior -

awesamdude (DT) - junior -

ponk (DT) - junior

technoblade (SOLO) - junior - multiple categories

FINAL BIT

here’s some scraps for ppl who know Asagao already as well as small bits I didn’t bother to write up any further

- Karl, much like Mai, is ALSO aware of the 4th wall and has time travel powers because of it.

- Purpled (undecided if he’s a solo player like Techno or has his own team he competes with that’s not a formal club) plays Literally Bedwars in competitions

- Callahan is the Dream Team club sponsor, Phil is L’Manberg’s club sponsor

- Karlnapity is real and canon bc I say so

- both for balance/laziness, every person only competes in one category. also bc it makes Techno that much more Protagonist-y that he does

- I made this AU in like February man idk I’m just vibin

- Fuck I never even included Ranboo huh

[kjack89]

there are so many good ones on that list but UHHHHH... 24 or 31? (or 36. or 37 👀)

Every now and then I like to take a prompt that is clearly intended to be angsty and instead make it...not so.

This is one of those times.

ExR, Modern AU, established relationship. Brief misunderstandings, healthy(ish) communication, and lots o’ fluff.

31. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

“Are you shitting me?” 

Grantaire stared down at the brightly colored flyer in apparent disgust, and Bossuet bent over to pry it from him. “What could possibly…” he started, trailing off as he saw what had caught Grantaire’s ire. “Ah. I’ll take it he didn’t, uh, clear it with you first?”

“It’s not about clearing it with me,” Grantaire snapped, snatching the flyer back. “I’m not his keeper. But I would think it would get at least a cursory mention.”

“What’s going on?” Joly asked from across the table, using Bossuet’s preoccupation to snag a bite of hashbrowns from his plate. Grantaire just thrust the flyer at Joly, who took it from him, raising both eyebrows as he read out loud, “‘Pucker Up for Change – A Kissing Booth to Fight to Legitimize Sex Work’?” He glanced up at Grantaire, who was scowling. “But what does this…”

It was his turn to trail off as he spotted the name listed among the other participants at the bottom of the flyer: Enjolras. Joly switched his glance to Bossuet. “What do you think?” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth. “Do you think Courfeyrac blackmailed him into it?”

“Either that or Combeferre’s getting revenge for something,” Bossuet muttered back.

Grantaire cleared his throat. “I don’t think the why really matters,” he said, his tone clipped. “When the more important thing is that my boyfriend is participating in a kissing booth and, y’know, neglected to tell me about it.”

“I’m sure it just slipped his mind,” Bossuet said bracingly. “You know that Enjolras has been so focused on the cash bail reform bill that’s in the House at the moment that he probably completely forgot he even agreed to participate.”

“Or,” Joly added, in what he clearly thought was a helpful way, “maybe Courfeyrac signed him up as a joke, and Enjolras doesn’t even know about it!”

“Or, maybe Enjolras forgot that he had a boyfriend who wouldn’t be super thrilled about him macking on a bunch of randos for ten bucks a pop,” Grantaire said sourly.

Joly and Bossuet both stared at him for a moment before Bossuet bit his lip, and Joly elbowed him. “Not the time,” he hissed, and Bossuet shook his head rapidly, clearly trying to stop himself from laughing.

Grantaire sighed. “What?”

“Just…’macking’?” Bossuet repeated with a snigger.

The corners of Joly’s mouth twitched. “I thought you were going to point out the use of the word ‘randos’,” he said, the pitch of his voice rising as he tried not to giggle.

Grantaire sighed again. “You two are the worst friends,” he grumbled, picking up his phone and texting Enjolras the four most ominous words in the English language: We need to talk.

----------

They didn’t talk.

Enjolras texted Grantaire back that he was in and out of meetings between the community bond fund and various state legislators, and asked if it could wait until that night. Considering that the damned kissing booth was scheduled for that afternoon, that didn’t exactly give Grantaire any opportunity to bring up the fact that Enjolras was planning on spending his afternoon locking lips with random passersby.

He texted Jehan. Pretty fucked up that passersby is the plural of passerby, and not passerbys.

I’ll take it you’re freaking out about the kissing booth thing? Jehan responded not even a minute later.

Grantaire didn’t bother asking Jehan how he knew about the kissing booth, or how he knew that Grantaire was upset about it – he had learned a long time ago not to question Jehan’s borderline omniscient ways. Don’t you think he should’ve at least told me about it??

I think that you’re interpreting the fact that he didn’t as evidence that he doesn’t care about you, Jehan replied. Which is crap. Enjolras loves you. 

Loves me enough to make out with strangers without telling me about it?

Jehan’s response took longer this time. I highly doubt there will be any making out. And have you considered that the reason he didn’t tell you is precisely because he didn’t want you to feel this way?

The thought had occurred to Grantaire, who scowled down at his phone. Doesn’t change the fact that he should’ve told me, he texted stubbornly.

Maybe not. But maybe you should give him a chance to explain tonight.

Grantaire’s scowl deepened and he shoved his phone back in his pocket. He figured he could be magnanimous enough to allow Enjolras a chance to explain.

But he sure as hell wasn’t going to wait for that night.

----------

“Next,” called the bored-looking guy who was managing the short line waiting for the kissing booth, and Grantaire took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Boy, girl, or nonbinary?”

“Sorry?” Grantaire said, blinking at him in confusion.

“Would you prefer to kiss a boy, a girl, or a nonbinary person?” the guy clarified.

Grantaire knew he should be impressed that something as asinine as a kissing booth was inclusive, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to be. “Boy,” he said, and the guy gestured for him to head over to the right side of the booth.

Taking a deep breath, Grantaire squared his shoulders and stalked over, plunking a ten dollar bill down in front of where Enjolras was sitting. “I believe this is the going rate,” he said stiffly.

The look on Enjolras’s face was everything that Grantaire had hoped it would be, a mix of horror, regret, and a particularly Enjolras-like defiance. “I suppose I owe you an explanation,” Enjolras started, but Grantaire held up a hand.

“First things first,” he said. “I paid, so I should get what I’m owed.” Enjolras rolled his eyes but nonetheless leaned in obliging and gave Grantaire a swift peck on the lips. “Not sure that was ten dollars worth…” Grantaire said, before continuing, “Now, about that explanation—”

It was Enjolras’s turn to hold up a finger, and he leaned back in his seat to talk to someone on the other side of the booth. “Hey, I’m tapping out for the moment.” Whatever response he got was apparently enough, as he stood, reaching out automatically for Grantaire’s hand.

For a brief moment, Grantaire thought about yanking his hand away, but even as ticked off as he was, he couldn’t do that.

Instead, he let Enjolras take his hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked away from the kissing booth . Enjolras glanced over at Grantaire and opened his mouth to say something, but Grantaire shook his head. “Not here,” he said tersely.

Instead, they headed to a nearby Starbucks, though Enjolras made a face when he realized where they were going. “Starbucks, really?” he asked.

“You spent an afternoon kissing people who are not me,” Grantaire said. “The least you can do is buy me an overpriced coffee.”

Enjolras didn’t argue any further, and they both got their coffees and made their way over to stand against the bar, their shoulders brushing against each other as they drank their coffee in silence.

“So,” Grantaire started eventually, and Enjolras sighed, draining his coffee.

“So I gather you’re upset,” he hedged, and Grantaire looked flatly at him.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

A small smile crossed Enjolras’s face. “Am I at least allowed to make my defense?”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “If you think there’s anything you can say in your defense that will make even a remote bit of difference.”

“How about this: I agreed to the kissing booth before you and I started officially dating,” Enjolras said calmly. “And you know that I honor my commitments.”

“Just not the commitment you made to me.”

It was unfair of Grantaire to say, and he knew it, but Enjolras just sighed and shook his head. “I’m not going to pretend that I owe you every part of my life,” he said. “And I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t decide that asking forgiveness was easier than asking permission.”

Grantaire frowned. “You don’t need my permission,” he said.

Enjolras arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what this is about?”

“No, this is about you deciding that it was easier for us to not at least have a conversation about it,” Grantaire said evenly. “I know damn well that you don’t need my permission for anything, and vice-versa. But you still should’ve at least given me a head’s up about it so that I wasn’t completely blindsided.”

For a moment, Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he ducked his head and nodded. “You’re right.”

Grantaire blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, you’re right,” Enjolras repeated, a little louder.

Grantaire smirked at him. “Oh I heard you, I just wanted to make you say it again.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Hilarious,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, but my superb wit is one of the things you love about me,” Grantaire said, still grinning.

“You are unfortunately correct,” Enjolras said with a light laugh, pulling Grantaire in and kissing him. “So does that mean that I’m forgiven?”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “That depends. You got any other makeout sessions for charity planned?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “There was no making out,” he said, a little impatiently. “It was just kissing.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to,” Grantaire muttered under his breath. 

“And it wasn’t technically for charity. It was in protest of how things like kissing booths are completely normalized and accepted, but sex work is marginalized and—” Grantaire yawned exaggeratedly and Enjolras rolled his eyes again, but it was with obvious affection. “It wouldn’t kill you to pretend to care.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Enjolras’s expression softened. “I do care,” he said. “And I’m sorry for making you doubt it.”

Grantaire softened as well, not at all surprisingly. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to stay mad at Enjolras for long. “Well, for that at least, I am more than willing to forgive you.”

“And for the rest?”

But that also didn’t mean that Grantaire was completely willing to just roll over. “Answer my previous question.”

“No, I have absolutely no future plans for any kind of kissing booth or anything like that,” Enjolras said firmly. “Besides, I don’t know if I could bring myself to do it again.”

Grantaire cocked his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

The breath seemed to catch in Grantaire’s throat, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Good answer,” he managed, before tugging Enjolras to him and kissing him.

When they broke apart, both men were grinning. “That’ll be ten dollars,” Enjolras said, a little breathlessly.

“Shut up,” Grantaire said, laughing.

“So am I definitely forgiven now?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire just kissed him again, curling his fist in Enjolras’s shirt, knowing full well that the kiss would say far more than words ever could, and content in the knowledge that from here on out, the only person that would be kissing Enjolras was him.

And he wouldn’t even have to pay $10 to do so.

[giveemhales]

Moodboards for Sterek AUs: 20/?

For @averysterekwinter day 3 (Theme: snow/ice)

Snow Day

(Plus here’s a fluffy ficlet, the rest under the cut because it got a bit long)

The first thing Stiles noticed when he woke up was that outside was white.

It was snowing, and not the drizzle of snowflakes that would melt upon hitting ground that was more usual for the area. No, there was a thick layer of white over everything in sight.

The second thing he noticed was the thing that woke him up: a text on his phone. He didn’t want to call it hypervigilance, because that implied a whole host of other issues he didn’t want to address, but even just the vibration of his phone from a single text was enough to rouse him.

It was an inconvenient habit (it was winter break and he wanted to sleep in, dammit), but he was grateful he had been roused when he read the text.

The text was from Derek and simply said Come to pack house ASAP.

Rest of fic under the cut!

He considered calling or texting to ask what was wrong, but he had gotten enough texts like that to know he wouldn’t get a response. If he wanted any answers, he would have to go to the pack house.

Stiles and Derek had been dating for around a year now, but they rarely texted. Well, Derek rarely texted. Stiles texted and Derek sometimes reluctantly replied. He wasn’t a big fan of technology. Kind of annoying considering Stiles was usually away at his campus, but Derek’s almost weekly visits more than made up for it.

So seeing this text immediately concerned Stiles. Pair that with the unusual snow, and he assumed the worst.

His mind whirred with different possibilities. Did a witch cast a spell? Was Jack Frost making a visit? Was some new dark Druid coming to fuck with nature?

He knew he was being a bit irrational, but he had learned to assume the worst when it came to Beacon Hills, and he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen actual snow at home in his lifetime. His past experiences didn’t allow him the luxury of excitement about novelties.

Overall, the combination of the unusual weather and the text from Derek calling for an emergency meeting had Stiles on edge and falling out of his bed in his haste to head out.

He didn’t have a good snow jacket so he just put on as many layers as was comfortable and a coat. He grabbed some gloves, and mourned for his converse which would surely not do well in the snow.

Stiles rushed out to his car, noting his dad had already left for the station. He was grateful to note the roads had already been cleared, as he wasn’t sure if his jeep could handle snow and ice.

He parked when he reached the edge of the preserve. They had cleared a dirt road so that they would be able to drive to the pack house, but it wasn’t an official street so the city had no reason to clear it of snow. 

Stiles understood why it wasn’t cleared of snow, but he was still annoyed. Fortunately, the snow wasn’t slushy, so at least his feet weren’t soaked. Still, his converse and jeans did little to protect him from the cold, and he walked as quickly as he could, while also watching out for any possible ice patches. 

By the time the pack house was in sight, Stiles was shivering, and ready to yell at Derek for making him come all this way when phones were a thing. 

Derek was standing in front of the pack house, and Stiles had no qualms about yelling and walking at the same time.

“Hey, jerk, there better be a good reason you called me out here, like dead bodies good reason. I am just a human without all the werewolf heat mojo, and I’m on break, so there are not a whole lot of reasons I should be anywhere except in bed sleeping right now.”

Stiles couldn’t really make out Derek’s face, but he knew it wasn’t as remorseful as it should have been.

Stiles sighed loudly and continued marching toward the house, looking down again to make sure he didn’t step in anything which would make him even more uncomfortable.

It was as soon as he looked down that he felt it, the cold becoming even colder, ice running through his veins.

He was under attack!

He looked up with a gasp, eyes searching for the assailant, for what cruel monster had thrown a snowball right at him. 

He was surprised to see that all of the pack had appeared in front of the house (damn werewolf speed), all wearing smirks of varying deviousness. 

Derek had his arm still raised, and Stiles knew he was the perpetrator (he wasn’t even wearing gloves but already had another snowball in his other hand, he clearly had an unfair advantage). 

In fact, everyone had a snowball prepared, and they were all staring right at Stiles with an evil gleam.

“Whoa! Who decided everyone would team up against me? This seems totally unfair.”

“It’s not everyone against you,” Scott said.

“It’s every man for himself,” Isaac finished for him, and threw a snowball right at Derek’s face.

And then it was chaos.

Stiles made as many snowballs as he could while the werewolves were distracted amongst themselves, thanking god he had thought to put on gloves. 

When Stiles was pretty sure he had a good amount of ammo stockpiled, he called to Scott. “Scotty, it’s snow time!”

Ever since they were young, when they had any sort of battle, whether it be nerf guns or water balloons, “It’s show time,” was their codeword to create an alliance. They would join forces and blindside their opposite.

(Stiles may or may not have been waiting his whole life to get to use that snow time pun).

Stiles began constructing a kick ass fortress as Scott ran over and began throwing Stiles’ snowballs at a pace only werewolves were capable of. 

When he popped up to check how Scott was doing, he was blindsided by three rapid succession snowballs right to the face. 

All from his boyfriend.

“Rude! And totally unwarranted!” Stiles shouted.

Derek glared at him. “It was revenge for that awful pun.”

Stiles gaped. “Oh you have snow idea what you’ve just started.”

He ducked before Derek had even thrown the next snowball.

The battle lasted close to another hour (Stiles cursed werewolf endurance), hundreds of snowballs and a handful of puns thrown.

It was at the time that his gloves were soaked through and he thought his fingers might fall off if he made one more snowball that he decided to call it quits.

He turned to look at Scott who was hiding with him behind the fortress and gave one nod. They stood up in unison, shouting their surrender with their hands up.

They were immediately pelted with a flurry of balls.

Stiles’ arms fell to his side. “Really? When we were surrendering? Do you snow snow bounds?”

The rest of the pack stared at him with blank stares.

“Fine, whatever, clearly nobody appreciates me nor understands my genius. Sorry my puns are too advanced for you all.” Stiles shook his head in disappointment and began to head to the house.

And promptly fell on his ass.

The rest of the pack burst into laughter (including Scott, the traitor, who was quick to abandon him), and Stiles glared at the sky from where he lay, cursing the world for this injustice.

Derek walked over, a smirk clear on his face while he looked down at Stiles. “You good?”

Stiles grumbled. “Yes. I meant to do that.”

Derek looked even more amused. “Oh really? And why is that?” Derek asked even as he offered a hand to help Stiles up.

“So I could do this!” Stiles shouted as he pulled down Derek with all his might with the offered hand. He knew Derek must not have been expecting it, because he actually managed to pull him down with an exclamation.

His victory was short lived, as he realized the consequences of his actions. He groaned. “God, you’re so heavy.”

“And you’re so dumb.” Derek got up on his elbows so he was slightly above Stiles. 

Stiles stared dreamily up at his boyfriend, deciding to ignore the insult. “Hey, did it hurt?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You mean when you pulled me down? Not really, I had a squishy human to cushion my fall.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, when you fell from heaven,” Stiles smiled widely, “Because you’re a snow angel.” He rolled them so he was above Derek.

Derek sighed heavily but remained limp as Stiles grabbed his arms, sliding them up and down through the snow in the classic snow angel motion.

Stiles rolled away from Derek when he got as close to an angel as he could and made his own, laughing the whole time. 

Derek sat up from where he had been manhandled. “Why do I put up with you?”

“It’s because you glove me!” Stiles shouted, removing one of his gloves (which at this point had become so soaked from snow that it was just making him more cold) and tossing it at Derek.

“Don’t take off your gloves, you dumbass!” Derek said, looking scandalized. Stiles couldn’t really blame him for his concern. Stiles was a human, and therefore susceptible to pesky things like hypothermia, but Derek should have thought of that before he started a snowball battle. 

Derek stood up and lifted Stiles up, hauling him over his shoulder.

Stiles didn’t really mind, since it got him out of the snow and gave him a great view of Derek’s ass.

“Just admit you’re s-mitten!” He took off his other glove and slapped Derek’s ass with it.

~~~

An hour later, Stiles was wearing multiple layers of Derek’s (dry) clothes, wrapped in a blanket, cuddling against his furnace boyfriend, surrounded by the pack.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but even if some people were needlessly cruel to me today, I had an ice time.”

The pack groaned, except Scott, who added, “Icy what you did there!”

Stiles leaned over to high five Scott.

“I will kick out the next person to make a pun,” Derek interjected.

Stiles rolled his eyes, even as he cuddled back into Derek’s side. “Ugh, whatever you say, Frosty.”

Derek glared down at Stiles, looking prepared to retaliate.

Stiles put his hands up in mock surrender. “That wasn’t a pun, that was a reference.”

“Well it wasn’t a very good one, since Frosty was a holly jolly soul.”

Stiles beamed. “Oh my god, my boyfriend knows his Christmas classics. I think I’m in love.”

“We know,” the rest of the pack responded in unison, but Stiles was too busy staring up at his boyfriend in adoration to care.

~~~ 

Later that night, when they laid together in bed, Stiles looked up at Derek, and his fondness shined bright. “I love you.”

Derek looked back at him, equally fond, and smirked and said, “I know.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit him for ruining the moment, or kiss him senseless for quoting Star Wars. He did neither, because he couldn’t let this opportunity pass.

“You mean, you snow?”

The ensuing slap on the back of his head was well worth it.

[sepublic]

Eda’s Hesitation

           We know that when Eda was younger, she eventually had to make the choice to defy the Coven System… And this was after YEARS of wanting to join the Emperor’s Coven, wanting to do it besides Lilith. It must’ve been a gradual realization after witnessing firsthand just how much the Coven System sucks… And I have to wonder when the idea first came into her head, about doing this? About the kind of consequences this’d entail?

           And how Eda must’ve stuck to joining the Emperor’s Coven because of this, until… Until it became too much. Until she began to volunteer for the Emperor’s Coven, and trained for that spot. And it must’ve hit her that this was her last chance to back out; That if she joined, she’d be selling her soul. Eda MUST have made the decision to defy the Coven System, in the brief period between being told there was only one spot left, and THAT duel… Unless Eda was always planning to defy them to their face and ‘enrolled’ because she saw the duel as an opportunity to really stick it to the EC’s faces. Granted, I’m not sure if duels are an actual thing if there are plenty of spots available, and Eda wouldn’t have known ahead of time, so it’s possible she would’ve just had her position confirmed after her grades were checked; Still…

           But in all possibility, I think Eda was legitimately thinking about joining the Emperor’s Coven, and… Maybe it was until that LAST moment, just as she was about to duel Lilith, that Eda made her choice. She accepted the painstaking consequences of being persecuted as a Wild Witch, because deep down she always felt persecuted and at least here she could be honest about it, at least here she wouldn’t have to subject others towards the same; She could never justify it to herself that someone else (like Lilith) would take her spot, so Eda may as well enjoy herself in the EC…

           Because in the end, Eda knew the Emperor’s Coven would’ve been so much more miserable in others way to herself, personally. Eda knew the risks and she fully accepted them… So it’s so much more painful, then, that she gets utterly blindsided by the curse. That even if she HAD chosen to join the Emperor’s Coven… Well, Lilith made that choice for her by casting the curse. Even if Eda had won, I’m not sure if the Emperor’s Coven would’ve accepted a cursed witch into their ranks, unless Belos really showed interest and just cured Eda’s curse right on the spot.

           In the years following the curse, Eda probably wondered how or why the curse was cast, if it was done in direct reaction to her defiance- Which in itself would be humiliating and degrading, make Eda doubt her own actions and consequences, especially if she had no idea WHO cast it, if it was the will of the Titan and its nature that she so revered… Or if it was cast beforehand, if it occurred to Eda that her choice was made for her anyway, whether she liked it or not. Neither option is great, because Eda values being able to choose things on her own terms and embrace them as such; She wanted to choose rejection on her own terms by being the one to defy the Emperor’s Coven, because she had a feeling they’d throw her aside a while after seeing her rebellious spirit anyway.

           So it really must’ve felt like that power of choice, that agency, was stripped from her… And it makes Eda question if it was worth it. Or if she was just lucky she chose the option that the curse had intended for her… Otherwise it would’ve been so much more traumatic if she decided to join the Emperor’s Coven, only to have those dreams forcibly crushed. And Lilith… When Eda finds out it was LILITH who cursed her, and considers the implications, the meaning?

           I have to consider that Eda’s choice to defy the system blindsided Lilith. Lilith went into this duel for a long while, fully expecting Eda to give it her all and that’s why she bought the curse to begin with. When Eda made her choice, did she consider what this would mean for Lilith, or did she not? Did Eda consider how the two sisters would separate… Did she think about trying to convince Lilith otherwise, or was she so uncertain about her decision that she only chose at the last moment- And by then, it was too late to really talk to Lilith about it? If so, then did Eda have reservations about not bringing Lilith with her, about leaving her sister behind to become a covenscout, a life she despised and knew was harmful?

           Maybe Eda was planning to talk to Lilith after her sister got confirmed, in the transitional period to the Emperor’s Coven- Let her know why she made her choice, and desperately convince Lily to make the same with her. Because Eda wouldn’t want to leave behind her sister, she loves her sister and she knows that Lilith feels the same. Or did Eda consider just letting Lilith make her decision, because she wasn’t AS opposed to the coven system at that point in time? That it was just a personal decision for Eda and not a moral stance? Eda wouldn’t want to leave Lilith behind, but… Maybe she considered the idea of respecting Lilith’s choices, not wanting to force her to do things- And that led to Eda letting Lilith join the Emperor’s Coven. Maybe in the aftermath of the curse, Eda stubbornly balanced coping with her new condition amidst explaining her reasoning to Lilith, or maybe she was too distracted to get the chance, which makes Lilith’s choice all the more tragic as she could’ve understood, so much earlier, WHY Eda did what she did…

           Did Eda tell Lilith, and did Lilith, grappling with the guilt of cursing Eda, the realization of what Eda did, the concern for her sister… How did they argue, and how much did it break Eda’s heart to see Lilith join the Emperor’s Coven, even after seeing what they did to her little sister? And Lilith, I could see her justifying this to Eda and herself by claiming that in the Emperor’s Coven, there are resources that could help her cure Eda… But of course, Eda asks if Lilith plans to leave once (or if) that happens, and Lilith hesitates. And Eda hears all she needs to, and launches into another fierce debate about WHY Lilith should leave…

           And then Lilith calls out Eda for making her own decision so suddenly, for not warning her ahead of time. And Eda has to admit it was last-second, which makes both sisters doubt the permanence of Eda’s decision or if it was just a brief lapse in judgment… But it doesn’t matter now, because of the curse. And growing up, I imagine Eda grappled for a while, wondering if she REALLY accepted this life, or just begrudgingly had to because of the curse… If after a few years of being a wild witch, she would’ve come crawling back to the Emperor’s Coven had there been no curse? It’s this kind of doubt and confusion of self and decisions that would’ve really undermined Eda’s choices… And it would’ve led to Lilith misinterpreting them as well, if Eda wasn’t so sure herself. It would’ve led to Lilith believing if the curse was cured, then of course Eda would join!

           Obviously Eda realized, once and for all, that this was the life she would’ve embraced had she not been cursed, had the window to the Emperor’s Coven always been open… Ironically, I think it was Lilith who showed her that; Lilith made it clear to Eda that her curse COULD be cured by Belos, that Eda’s past years of a wild witch would’ve been forgotten. But Eda didn’t care, she truly knew what her decision was… Granted, maybe Lilith only brought up Belos himself curing Eda’s curse during Sense and Insensitivity. Maybe Eda thought she just had reservations about looking weak and uncertain to others by going back on her word, that even without the curse she had to stick to it for her own honor and pride and dignity…

           Maybe Eda DID realize what she meant, before Lilith revealed that Belos could in fact cure her curse. Not to mention, Eda would’ve looked for a cure on her own terms… There would’ve been a lot of doubt, a lot of consideration that maybe she would’ve chosen differently- But I think Eda would reflect on her childhood and be all the more certain. And ESPECIALLY after meeting Luz and King, too…! Perhaps Eda affirmed her choice well before Lilith confirmed that Belos could cure the curse. Did Eda reason with this by believing she could find another means, or did she accept the curse as permanent unless by Belos… And still chose it, because being a wild witch was that much to her?

           I have to wonder if Eda, in the aftermath of the curse… In the aftermath of learning the truth- Did she wonder if this was her punishment? Her punishment for not being more decisive, for not choosing to defy the Coven System sooner rather than later, for not being more defiant from the very beginning? Is this the cost of her hesitation? Because if Eda had been upfront and clear about not joining the EC from the beginning, Lilith would’ve never cursed her to get that remaining spot… Is this universal karma for Eda’s hesitation and lack of conviction, even if she did eventually turn around- Just as Lilith waited too long to join Eda, and their relationship suffered as a result?

           But, no… Eda shakes her head. That’s silly, that’s validating of trauma by implying there was a reason behind it, that it was good- But even so. I have to wonder if Eda will ever feel angry at herself for not knowing herself sooner, for not communicating with Lilith from the start… Or if she recognizes that no, Eda shouldn’t blame herself, this was fully Lilith and Belos’ propaganda. Eda shouldn’t victim-blame, sure, things could’ve gone differently had Eda chosen sooner- But it’s totally unfair to blame herself for not being as decisive. But then if Eda doesn’t blame herself for not being as quick, it doesn’t change the fact that had she been more certain, or a little more reckless…

           …It’s in the past, though. There’s no point fretting and regretting, Eda made her choices and she sticks with them, she tells Luz as such when she’s about to be petrified, all because she willingly sacrificed herself for Luz. Eda knows what she’s done, Eda knows what happened, she could gripe over could’ve, would’ve, should’ve- But in the end she’s not changing the past, she needs to focus on changing the present and future. And things HAVE been changing for the better, as now Lilith is by her side, and helping her with the curse. Still, I can’t help but wonder if Eda blamed herself initially for not steering Lilith away from the coven system, or if she too recognized that Lilith was also her own individual, with her own choices… That it was up to Lilith, in the end. And Lilith chose differently…

           So, maybe it was more than the curse that happened because of Eda’s indecision, maybe it was Lilith’s indoctrination- And the latter, Eda might feasibly blame herself a lot more for. Eda might grapple with feeling like she failed her sister, only to remember Lilith is the older and SHOULD be caring for Eda… But on the one hand, maybe Lilith always did, and that’s why she chose the curse, because she felt entitled towards this one moment of selfishness? It’s still disproportionate, but maybe Eda considers that she should’ve been kinder to Lily, or at least worked harder to reach out to her… For BOTH of their sakes, really. When Eda made her choice that day, did she assume Lilith was never going to change her mind, and so didn’t bother trying to convince her- She went in fully assuming that losing Lilith to the EC was an inevitability, a constant between Eda’s choices?

           And did faulting Lilith, not thinking enough of her –because Eda apparently always thought she was better- did this cause trouble in the end? Well… Eda can at least believe in Lilith’s capacity to change NOW, and now she’s encouraged to at least put more initiative, to at least try to talk to others. Luz tries with Amity, and look how that turned out! Luz is inspiring to Eda in a lot of ways. Eda knows she wasn’t perfect, and she does a lot to learn from Luz, to be inspired by the girl to become better and improve in her own way, and thus be way more effective in her rebellion against the coven system.

          Eda is going to have to balance alongside Lilith, that Lilith is her own person who made her choices… But at the same time, she was also a child unfairly indoctrinated by the Coven System as well. And maybe Eda needs to give herself some slack, because so was she- She did the best she could, there’s no point in beating herself up over not being even better. That’s the kind of mentality the Coven System encourages, anyway- Never being satisfied with what you have, while also being forced to accept less.

          In the end, it’s the Coven System to blame for this whole mess. Its indoctrination led to Eda’s hesitation, made her want to join for so long… Lilith and individuals in general have personal blame and culpability, of course- But in the end, if you trace it back, there’s a root cause. And it’s a lot more productive to tackle and stop this problem at its source, before then dealing with the rest afterwards… The Coven System is abusive and gaslights people into victim-blaming, so it’s about time that Eda recognizes that her lack of decisiveness as a kid is fully to blame on Belos as well. Eda did the best she could against the system and she needs to give herself some credit, stop being so hard on herself for being ‘ineffective’ for all those years… Eda still changed herself in the end, was true to that, wasn’t she? That alone would’ve been sufficient, and proof that Eda made some kind of a difference…

          And then she changed Luz, who’s changed so much since then- And Eda is happy with what she’s accomplished, while also willing and able to reach for even more. Because with more, Eda can get better things for OTHER people as well… She doesn’t want anyone to live the trauma she endured and works to prevent this- Now she can work to bring the joy that she herself found with her found family, to others. Eda was once resigned to giving Luz the happiness she herself couldn’t get- Now she’s embraced giving others the happiness, she herself DOES have and has earned! If Eda can get it, so can others- And she can teach them how to, as someone who figured it out on her own. They don’t have to blindly stumble like Eda did, she’s got a lot of wisdom and experience to offer, and at least THAT she got from her time alone… Her cursed life wasn’t ideal, but she made the most of it and that’s what she always does!

[backtothestart02]

February 2022 - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: I saw this as a fic prompt on twitter, to write (little) drabbles on all (or most) of the events on Barry & Iris' February calendar in 8x08, so here is the first chap! I hope you enjoy! I could've gone on a bit longer, but these are supposed to be short, so here this one is. lol.

...

Synopsis: A series of one-shots depicting Barry and Iris' social calendar in February 2022.

...

Chapter 1 - Barry's Dentist Appointment

The morning of February 2nd, Iris woke to Barry not beside her in bed. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, since he often got up bright and early to make breakfast for the two of them. But given how the day before had gone and the fact that she could hear no pans clattering or singing as he danced across the floor (as was his m.o.), she worried if he was still being affected from the events of the day before. He’d seemed okay when they got home last night, but still…it was a heavy day.

Peeling back the covers, she reached for her robe and made her way down the stairs, only to find him lounging in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms at the kitchen table, munching on his third donut. Nine more were left in the box splayed out on the table.

“Hey, babe…” she said, cautiously. “Don’t you have a, uh…” She squinted as she glanced across the room at the calendar, faintly remembering what was on today’s agenda. “Dentist appointment today? And work?”

“I called in sick,” he said, which blindsided Iris. He was often late to work, but he rarely if ever called in sick, unless he actually was. “Thinking about rescheduling the appointment too.”

Iris took a seat at the table.

“Are you okay?” she asked, softly.

“Yeah, why?” he asked, and his voice certainly sounded healthy, aside from being muffled from chewing.

Iris frowned, perplexed.

“Well, then, I guess I don’t understand why you took off and why you might…”

She didn’t finish her sentence. Because the realization behind all of this was suddenly blatantly obvious. Barry wasn’t still reeling from yesterday. He just didn’t want to go to the dentist.

“Barry, you have to go to the dentist.”

He stopped chewing and groaned as he set his half-donut left down.

“But I don’t wanna, Iris!”

She chuckled and got up, removing his plate and the other donuts and taking them into the kitchen.

“Go brush your teeth and floss, and you’ll be sparkliest customer they ever saw.”

He scoffed, refusing to move.

“I don’t know that I want to be ‘sparkly’.”

She gave him a knowing look over her shoulder.

“You have perfect teeth, Barry Allen. Thousand watt smile. I can’t remember the last time you had a cavity.”

He sighed dramatically.

“I just don’t like when people are in my mouth,” he scowled.

Iris raised her eyebrows amused, so he amended his statement.

“Unless it’s you, of course.”

She smiled and walked back over to him. She tilted his chin up to kiss him on the lips and then took a step back.

“Go get ready. I’ll be here for moral support when you get back.”

He grumbled about how unfair that was, but he sped off, brushed and flossed his teeth for a solid 10 minutes, and then returned to his wife, smiling brightly.

“Good?”

She smiled right back and gave him a thumb’s up sign.

“Thousand-watt smile. Absolutely.”

He nodded.

“Right. Guess I’ll go then.”

“Wait!” She crossed the room to him then presented her cheek for him to kiss.

He smiled genuinely and tilted her face so her lips faced him head-on and kissed her.

“Mmm. Yummy.”

She laughed.

“Okay, go! Call me when you’re done, and I’ll congratulate you.”

He snickered but nodded and was gone in a flash, leaving Iris with her hair flying around her.

…

Barry could not stop bouncing his knee. Not in the waiting room, where he was definitely getting looks from other patients, and not in the exam room as he awaited the dentist to come in.

“Hello, Mr. Allen,” his dentist said, finally entering the room a grand total of 15 minutes later.

Barry smiled with his lips closed.

“It’s been a year, not your usual six months. Why is that?” He frowned, concerned.

Barry panicked.

“I…uh…forgot?”

“Hmm.”

His heart raced.

“I got my vows renewed,” he said, by way of explanation. “It must’ve been for the same day.”

“Yes…in your file here it says you were a no-call, no-show.”

Barry winced.

“At least call next time, yeah?”

Barry gulped.

“Okay.”

The dentist’s assistant came into the room, and the dentist snapped his fingers, asking for one thing or another.

“Alright, open wide, Barry, we’ve got to put this in your mouth and have you bite down on it to make sure your teeth are all right. You know the drill.”

Barry swallowed but tentatively opened his mouth.

“Wider.”

He opened his mouth slightly more.

“Wider.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth as wide as he could. In no time at all, that gummy structure was inside him, and he was being ordered to bite down on it. Then he had to do the same with some plastic, and then he had to wait, while they analyzed the indentations on the computer.

“I don’t think we’ll have to do any x-rays today, Mr. Allen. Your teeth look pretty good.”

Barry breathed a sigh of relief.

“Rachel here will just give you a thorough cleaning, and then you’ll be on your way. Sound good?”

The color drained from his face.

He hated Rachel. She was rough with big hands, and she always made his gums bleed.

“Uh-huh.”

She was entering the room, so he didn’t dare ask for someone else, lest that make the experience even worse.

“I’ll see you in six months.”

“See y-” Barry tried, but his dentist was already out of the room.

“Hello, there, Barry,” Rachel boomed, her low voice filling him with dread. “I hope you didn’t skip your last appointment on my account.”

Barry shook his head emphatically.

“Got my vows renewed,” he repeated. “Must’ve been the same day.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” She grabbed a hold of his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t do it again.”

He shook his head, as much as he could with her grip on it.

“Nope. Won’t.”

“Good.” She smiled brilliantly, but it was menacing to him. “I choose mint for your flavor today, sound good?”

“Actually-”

“Great! Open wiiiiide!”

He had little time to react before his slightly opened mouth was forced open, and his chair tipped back, and he spent the next half hour sealing his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from seeping through his eyelashes every time she hit a nerve. His mouth had started to hurt, and he was practically choking on his saliva, but eventually she pulled out the suction tube and saved him from death.

“There we go. All done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Uh…”

“See you in six months, Barry.”

And then she was gone, and he was saved.

…

When Iris saw Barry’s name flash across her phone screen, she immediately waved out the couple employees from her office and urged them to shut the door.

“Hey, babe, how did it go?”

“My mouth hurts.”

“Aww, honey, I’m sorry.”

She leaned back in her chair and twirled a lock around her finger.

“Can I do anything to help?”

There was a silence, then-

“Actually-”

“Besides that,” she interrupted, smiling. She knew her husband too well.

“Milkshake?” he asked instead.

He could’ve just run and got one himself, but Iris knew he was not in a place to be dealing with people or anything but recovering from the supposed traumatic experience he’d just had at the dentist’s office.

“I’ll stop home on my lunch break.”

“Promise?” he asked, and she could almost picture those puppy dog eyes of his pouring into her soul.

“Anything for you, baby.”

[dogbearinggifts]

I saw you mention in an ask that Diego spotted the abuse they underwent first. In what order and how do you think each of the kids came to the realization of what their dad put them through? They all obviously are still reeling from everything years later and it was EXTRA apparent during the light supper.

The light supper did many things, but the one thing it did most of all was show just how deeply he damaged these kids. Here they are in their thirties, meeting with a man who doesn’t know them yet—and even though they’re all completely on edge, guards up, expecting the worst, they’re still blindsided by how low he stoops just to gain a slight edge. 

But I digress. Here’s how I think each one of them came to realize Reginald was abusive, and the order in which I think they realized it. This is mostly just speculation on my part, so I could be wrong, but I like to think it’s an educated guess. 

Diego: Watching his dad give Luther nothing but praise while he received nothing but criticism fostered a good deal of resentment in him, but I think it also led him to see that something was very wrong much sooner than some of his other siblings. See, the torture they endured seems to have happened behind closed doors—Vanya losing her powers, Klaus being locked in the mausoleum, whatever awful things he did to Allison, Ben and Five in the guise of making them stronger—but the verbal abuse Diego went through happened out in the open. It had to. Reginald wanted to goad Diego into pushing his own limits to beat Luther at a game neither of them could win. To do that, he needed make them both aware that there was a competition, that Luther was winning and Diego was losing, and that all of the other siblings knew the score. Being locked in that dynamic meant Diego was constantly, painfully aware that no one else had to deal with Reginald’s constant nitpicking—but also that no one else was lavished with praise the way Luther was. Even to a sheltered kid who’s allowed few friends outside the family and limited freedom to leave the grounds,  that treatment is visibly wrong. Diego might not have been able to call it abuse as a teen, but I think seeing the blatant discrepancies between how he and his siblings were treated—plus his legendary stubbornness—kept him from internalizing it for too long. When Reginald used Ben’s funeral to shame them all, that was probably the moment Diego began seeing him not as a bad parent, but as a monster he needed to escape.

Vanya: Like Diego, she was treated differently from her siblings. Unlike Diego, I do think she internalized it to a degree. We see her taking up the violin in an attempt to impress her dad (“I’m going to be extraordinary”) and her visible dismay when Reginald says “I’m afraid there’s nothing special about you.” Even as an adult, after years on her own, she sends Reginald a copy of her autobiography. It’s possible this was an attempt to get him to see things from her perspective, but it’s equally possible she sent it to him as a means of saying “Look, Dad, I wrote a book. I got it published. It’s on the bestseller list. Be impressed, you asshole.” Part of her wanted to impress him, and part of her believed that if she just tried a little harder, she could do it. Although she recognized that her treatment was unfair sometime in or prior to her teen years (we see her protesting Reginald’s refusal to let her be in the family photo) the part of her that wanted to earn his favor probably kept her from fully embracing the idea that she was not responsible for how she was treated. That said, I do think she’d realized Reginald was the problem by the time she moved out, and she probably began calling him abusive once she either read up on abusive relationships or learned about them from her therapist. Learning that there was a word for what she endured, and that no decent person considers it okay, was probably strangely comforting and empowering all at once. 

Klaus and Ben: After Ben’s death, they almost certainly began talking more. Ben would’ve had to witness Klaus’ burgeoning addiction spiral out of control, and he wouldn’t have let it happen in silence. Maybe his resentment festered shortly after his death; maybe it came years later. Whatever the case, I think that when Ben began arguing with Klaus over his drug habit, Klaus pushed back—and eventually, this pushback led to him spilling details of what led him down that road. “He locked me in a fucking mausoleum when I was just a kid” probably stunned Ben into silence for a few hours at least—and also reminded him of the things Reginald forced him to do while he was alive. Maybe they started trading stories to empathize with each other; maybe they traded them to one-up each other. Whatever the case, I think that as they learned they’d both been effectively tortured by their own father, they both began to realize how twisted their childhoods had been—and that they were not to blame for it.

Allison: While her reactions during the light supper prove Reginald terrorized her as much as he did the others, we also know she used her power to get whatever she wanted. Parental abuse is damaging to everyone, no matter who you are; but abuse from a parent you can manipulate is a little easier to endure, and it’s much harder to recognize that something is wrong when you can buy yourself a respite—or at least a few material things to ease the pain. She had an advantage the others didn’t, and I think this advantage kept her in denial, believing Reginald might not be so bad after all, if he gave her all those nice things and didn’t complain, until Ben’s funeral. Watching Reginald use her brother’s death as an opportunity to berate and shame them for something she knows wasn’t their fault makes her angry and hurt enough to stand up to him, despite the derision this earns her. I think that day affected her pretty deeply—maybe even more deeply than her siblings. Ben’s funeral was probably the day she realized there was nothing redeemable in her dad after all and that she had to get away for her own safety. Once she was out on her own, I think she sought out books on bad parents—starting with survivor memoirs, empathizing with the narrators more strongly than she expected, then branching out into self-help. She probably read the signs and checklists over and over, just to make absolutely certain her experiences counted as abuse and she wasn’t just being dramatic and ungrateful.

Five: If he hadn’t gotten stuck in the apocalypse, I think he might have been one of the first to realize Reginald was abusive. But because he spent the majority of his life in a world much harsher than the Academy (which isn't to say the Academy wasn’t harsh, but no one had to eat cockroaches to survive it) his memories probably took on a rosier hue. A place with a solid roof over his head, where he was guaranteed clean clothes, companionship, and never had to wonder where his next meal was coming from—after starving out in the open and talking to a mannequin, Five probably thought more than once that he’d never argue with Reginald again if it only meant a return to those comforts he once took for granted. This longing, mixed with self-loathing over his stupidity at getting stuck, probably led to some self-blame over how Reginald treated him, if his “I was too hard on you” to Reginald during the light supper is any indication. He realized Reginald was abusive at some point (probably after some heated arguments with Dolores) but I think he’s also gotten it into his head that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed at the time—not as bad as growing up in the apocalypse, at any rate.

Luther: Not only did he stay in the Academy well into his twenties, but he put his own safety on the line, nearly died in service to Reginald’s goal—a goal he’d fooled himself into thinking was his own—and when the man who endangered him, mutilated him, and shunned him exiled him to a hunk of rock floating in space, he still blamed himself. While he took a major step forward in the latter half of S1, placing the blame for his pointless Moon mission on Reginald (where it belongs), I think his jump into the sixties caused him to regress a bit. I don’t think he forgot what Reginald did to him, but I do think he assumed that Reginald might be kinder in his younger years. Maybe he thought parenthood made him less patient or—more tragically—that something he and his siblings did turned him into the kind of man who would shame his surviving children at their brother’s funeral. I think he believed that if he could just talk to his dad before all of that happened, he’d be welcomed with surprise and joy, pulled into a hug and asked about all he’d accomplished. While Reginald’s rejection shattered him, I think it also, in a sad and twisted way, freed him. Luther learned, once and for all, that Reginald simply hated children. Reginald’s callousness and outright cruelty wasn’t due to anything he did—it was the result of taking on parenthood out of a sense of obligation, resenting it every step of the way, and lacking the emotional maturity to avoid taking it out on kids whose only crime was dependency on him. The fact Luther didn’t believe it until he heard it from the man himself speaks volumes about the control Reginald still had over him, even after his lies were laid bare.

[avversiera-writes]

overstepping, part 2 of 2 - tobirama senju/reader

Summary: In which Tobirama does not know how to express his concerns properly. And it turns to a mess, and then some. Smut ensues. 

Author’s Note: Had to cut the whole thing in like half! link to part 1 below <3

PART 1

Mito chuckles softly as the two of you discuss your quips with your Senju husbands. The two of you spend dinner together, like you have done so these past few days, as Hashirama is off somewhere in the gambling district, and your own Senju husband still cooped up in his office. Mito had sent one of their sons to find their father before he made a fool of himself, but knowing Hashirama, he is also good at evading problems.

Probably too good. Apparently, Senju men are skilled at this.

You are fortunate that Mito is your sister in law, because you would not know how to keep your sanity at this point.

“I love him, and I know who I married, but…” You trail off, deep in thought. You remember the peculiar summoning jutsu that Tobirama was working on earlier. It is not just a summoning jutsu and something about it scratches at your mind uncomfortably.

As a shinobi, you have good instincts of what can go wrong, and this definitely has that vibe.

“It gets hard,” Mito supplies. She knows. She has been married to Hashirama since their late teenage years.

“It does. I know he got scared for me after that mission that got me hospitalized,” you say. “Now, he’s showing his concern weirdly.”

The two of you share a comfortable silence.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” Mito suggests. “I’ll talk to my husband to reason with yours.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Alright. The two of them get along well without us, anyways.”

~

You spend the rest of the week attending to your household, doing your best to act as Tobirama’s wife, since you have nothing else to occupy your mind. You also read up on the summoning jutsus that Mito let you borrow, and the more you read up on the symbols and the patterns of the lines, the more uneasy you felt.  

You definitely saw the markings for life and death on that paper. And you definitely recognize the scrawls of bringing or pulling something out of–well, perdition? You are pretty sure it is heading in that direction, though just the mere thought of Tobirama playing god sends a chill to your bones.

You wait for him to get home, which he surprisingly did at an early time.

You want to ignore him, but days and well months of unsaid conflict is starting to burst through the lid that you capped on your emotions. You try to be understanding of your husband, to be supportive because you are proud of him being the Hokage, but there is only so much you can take from him. Your career as a shinobi is at a standstill, and your husband spends days cooped up in that stuffy office doing Kami knows what, preventing you from taking any other missions that suit you. When you try to help him and lighten up his duties as Hokage, he finds errors in your efforts and becomes irate and unyielding.

“Where were you?” You wince at the way your voice sounds, it is the type of voice you use to interrogate people for information.  

Tobirama gives you a hard look. “I did not appreciate my brother speaking of our marital affairs, and you behind my back.”

You shake your head, your jaw tensed. “You do not get to change the subject. Where were you?”

“At the office, where my brother cornered me.” Tobirama glares at you, but you don’t back down.

You’re not easily intimidated like that.

“How can you blindside me like that? Stop intruding into my work and just be my wife!” Tobirama snaps.

You thank the gods that your servants have retreated into their quarters on the other side of the house. You hate to broadcast your arguments to people that have potential to gossip.

You step forward towards him and you meet his eyes without wavering. “I am a shinobi foremost and your wife second!” You shout back.

You can tell that Tobirama came at you, charged with that temperous energy he possesses, but you are his wife and you know how to be prepared for his temper tantrums.

The two of you start arguing about anything and everything. You were venting to him about your struggles as his wife while he is trying to out-shout you by telling you how unfair you are being and how you are becoming more of a distraction than a helping hand.

Both of you do not listen as you ramble off against each other.

Then, when you paused to take a break, Tobirama is shouting, “I’d have thought we would be more like my brother and his wife! I know I am not the best husband–”

Frustrated and confused about what he is talking about, you shout back, “Oh good, you know! Tobirama, we would never be like your brother and his wife! We were never like them in the first place!”

Tobirama is staring at you wildly. “What is that supposed to mean?” Tobirama snaps. “What do you mean? That I was wrong in marrying you? You should have known what you were getting into!”

You note how tired and vulnerable he sounds, and if you had half a mind to be calm, you might have sensed the insecurity deeply embedded in his voice, but you are too wind up in your anger.

“Tobirama, what are you even on about?!” You grow, sensing that whatever you were fighting about in the first place is lost between you two. “This has nothing to do with what we’re fighting about in the first place!”

This situation is just blowing up from one pointless topic to another until everything comes flooding out, until every frustration is forming words between the charged space between you and your husband.

“What am I to you, Tobirama?!” You shout at his face. You are only one breath apart. You have not noticed how close you are to his space now.

Tobirama stares at you intensely, red eyes lit like fire and his breath a little shaky.

Suddenly, he grabs your neck. For a split second, you thought Tobirama is legitimately going to kill you with the way he is glaring and scowling at you, but then his lips are on yours. Violently, he kisses you. You kiss back, albeit with more teeth and nails involved. There was more fighting than kissing involved, but you both keep at it since this is the closest you’ve been with each other for months.

You gasp as Tobirama’s tongue darts through your lips without as much of a yes, and you push back with as much force. Your fingers tangle in his white hair and you grip and pull at it, hard. He backs you up to the wall, a hand still on your neck, but it is more like it is resting there. It does not do anything else.

At that moment, you realized that he can never really hurt you. As much as you provoke him, and even in the heat of a moment, he does not follow through.

Frustrated and desiring that you wish that he is closing his fingers around your neck, you rip his shirt off and clung to him even closer. You want him to do it, gods, it is making you crazy. You want him to fight back even harder because it is rare that he expresses frustration with you. His hands travel down your waist and hips, gripping them with a strength that he uses to spar with you.

You jump to his waist, and he pushes you against the wall again. You dig your nails into the skin of his pale back, and run them down hard enough to leave marks, eliciting a grunt from him. Your lips crash against each other, messy and filled with bites. At one point, the two of you growled, the result of months of repressed frustration finally bleeding through the cracks of your walls.

Tobirama moves towards your bedroom, and once he has managed to maneuver your bodies inside, he throws you down into the bed. He is immediately on your skin, his mouth on places that drive you insane. He is pulling your clothes off of you, and touching you everywhere, gripping your arms, your breasts, your legs. You resist moaning, but it is almost impossible when he is slipping his finger through your needy, tight hole. Above you, his eyes watch you closely. You can feel him tremble slightly, and suddenly you realized that being in contact with you like this so quickly might be too much for his senses.

You can feel how desperate he is to get closer to you, but for now, the only thing you can do is open your legs wider to let him in. You feel another finger slip and you arc towards him languidly. You catch his other hand, and you pull it so that you can hold and entwine your hand with his above your head. You feel his reluctance, but you want more. You want more, and his fingers inside of you is not enough.  

“Damn it, Tobirama,” you let out in a quick rush of air.

You feel him turn stoic, and you pull at his hand harder, and he presses flush against you. You catch his mouth and grind into his fingers, and you close your eyes as it sends a pleasurable tingle through your spine. You feel your torso tighten as you keep grinding against his fingers, and above you, Tobirama’s breaths accelerate.  

His fingers dig in you, curving at the right spot, and you cry out in pain when he starts to rub his thumb against your clit. He sits up, and he fucks you open, eyes intent on watching your face. Your body writhes in pleasure, and Tobirama does not stop. You throw your head back, and you start making these gasping choking sounds that come raw from your throat.

Tobirama is also breathing harshly, and just when it is getting too much for you to come, he stops. You let out a whimper, and a groan of frustration, urging him on. To do more.

Then, he is relentlessly slamming his cock into you and driving you upwards the bed. He is murmuring curses because of how tight you are, but it does not dissuade his rhythm; each slam is with reckless abandon, his hands are rough on your hips. Then, he is pressing his hands against your inner thighs, laying it flat on the bed so that it is spread open wide for him.

You glance down and see Tobirama’s dick getting swallowed by your hole, and you moan deliriously at the lewd scene before you. He is thick and heavy and hot inside you, and that knowledge has you mewling, completely forgoing logic.

You were supposed to be fighting. You still were, you suppose.

Unable to control your shaking legs, you settle for clenching your walls around Tobirama’s dick, and find purchase on his sturdy shoulders. Your body ripples from the sheer pleasure and you cry out as Tobirama grabs your legs, throws one over his shoulder and leans forward. The new angle is jarring, and you think you see stars.

For a second, you blacked out because the next thing you know, Tobirama is fucking you sideways, both of your legs resting held up over his arm.

Your voice keens, and you cry out for him. You start whimpering and screaming as an intense fire spreads from your lower region and towards your whole body. Your nerves are alight with a heat you have never felt before. Someone might as well have hit you with the infamous Uchiha fireball jutsu. You forget there are such things as words as you start whimpering and screaming. Sweat drops from your forehead, your chest. Above your screaming, you hear the sound of skin slapping against skin.  

Tobirama drives into you even more intensely, grinding and slamming into you deeply, and you feel like you are about to split into two. He leans over once again, prying your legs apart and pulling them around his waist; finally, and you throw your arms around his shoulder to hold onto him. His mouth goes to your breast, his tongue hot and slick against your skin and your nipples, and the hot sensation of his mouth makes you come. You cry out and arc up against him, but he keeps his pace, he keeps fucking you with no intention to stop.

Your hands go to his biceps and you feel his skin underneath your nails, feel the way you etch sharp crescents on its surface. Tobirama then kisses you full on the mouth, invading, insistent; he sucks on your tongue and flicks his own against the roof of your mouth.

The heat starts building up again, and this time, it builds much faster.

“Tobi!” You scream. You arc against him languidly, and your movements become jerky and erratic. “Tobi-hhmm-I’m so close, I’m–”

His hips jerks, and he fucks you with a speed and tenacity that makes your mind blank completely. Your body tenses, and you scream, your nails tear into the skin of his back again, and he still keeps going, until you feel his hot seed spill into you, making the slapping of skin even more lewd than necessary. You feel it trickle down to your thigh, and you whimper, your heart loud in your ears and your breath fighting to become even. Each movement Tobirama makes sends intense tingling through your body, so you hold him still. The two of you do not break away from each other, opting to just stay conjoined through the most intimate parts of your body.  

Tobirama’s breathing is harsh against your neck, and you feel his lips press against your collarbone tenderly.

When your high has finally come down, Tobirama pulls out of you slowly, puts an arm under your neck, and he lies down with you resting against him snugly.

“Did…I hurt you?” He murmurs.

You let out a small chuckle, remembering how much you tore at his back. “I think…I’m in better condition than you.”

He lets out a quick rush of air that is an equivalent to a laugh.

“Tobi…” You start, a bit drowsy. Everything feels cold and faraway, now that you had a taste of the fire between the two of you. “I want to help you. I really do, but you have to let me in. I am your wife. Not a stranger.”

“I must apologize. You must have felt frustrated and angry with me for taking away aspects of your life you deem important. You deserved better, and you knew that.”

“I did.”

You turn to him, despite the ache settling in your bones and rest a hand on his face. “But I swear to my life and to my clan’s name that I will help you become a great Hokage.”

Tobirama gives you a hint of a smile.

“Though, we do have plenty to discuss,” you murmur against his skin. You know that it will be difficult to pry Tobirama away from his own thoughts, but you are going to try.

Tobirama mumbles something incoherent, and the two of you surrender to sleep.

~

Tobirama glares at you as you sort through his documents right in front of him. You ignored his suggestions about how he wanted it arranged, but then you gave up and just followed what he was saying because he had suddenly stood up from his desk to wrestle his things from your hands. His argument is that you do not know what is important, so instead, you just ask him in your passive aggressive way and then your tone sparks another nonsense debate.

Two can go at this game.

At the end of the day, you go home together. Then, you stop him when you spot a quiet corner stand. You pull him towards it direction, and it dawns on you that this will be the first time you two will be eating together in a while.

The person in the stand is immediately alert and a little nervous from the unprompted visit of the new Hokage, and you tell them your food orders. Tobirama opts to just watch you, something he does a lot when the two of you have been apart for a long time.

“Do you know who I am, Tobi?”

Tobirama stares at you, then his face grows confused. “What?”

“I am asking you if you know who I am.”

“What kind of nonsense question is this? Of course I know you,” he says gruffly.

You take a deep breath and you look at his face intently so that you can gauge his reaction. “I’m retiring as a shinobi.”

Tobirama blinks, not expecting this.

“Look, you…I know who I married, I knew what I was getting into, that eventually you will take up harder responsibilities in the future,” you begin and you observe the expressions flitting through your husband’s face. “But if I am a shinobi at the same time as you are Hokage, you will keep getting in my way, and I will get in your way of duty as well.”

“I…” Tobirama starts, but he is at loss of words for once.

“I know, I know you. You will get antsy and irritated if nothing is going your way. You have to focus on our village, and you can’t do that with half of your mind worrying about me. So I quit.”

Tobirama stares at your face again, glum. He never wanted to take important things away from you, but inevitably, he had done just that.

After a while, he says, “Thank you.” There was not much to be said on these matters.

“And my promises from last night still rings true.”

Tobirama smiles, but it is small and quick, it is almost impossible to catch, but you are his wife and you have known him and have memorized his expressions in the most miniscule ways.

“However,” you quickly add, “should the next time you tell me what I can and can’t do, the next time you decide something for me as the Hokage and not as my husband, I do not care if you have your damn Senju name, I will ruin you.”

”Oh? And how will you go about this name smearing campaign of yours?”

“Oh, there are so many ways, husband,” you reply giddily. Then, you close the gap between you to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Tobirama visibly freezes.

You laugh, “Oh Tobi, quit acting like you just didn’t fuck my brains out last night!”

“Will you be quiet?” he snaps, his ears turning as red as his eyes.  

“Oh my, I got the Nidaime Hokage flustered!”

The server turns up with your food and Tobirama is frozen in horror like that, staring at the space in front of him.

“How about that?” This time, you smirk at his stern expression.

When the server leaves, you watch him break his chopsticks in half. You hear him sigh and mutter something about being too forward and gutsy in a public place, and you cannot help but laugh at the way he is trying to reel himself back in.  

You know him well enough that he is completely embarrassed to be caught receiving affection like that.

END.

//

buy me a coffee !

[twistedsinews]

Cyberpunk 2077; V/Jackie; PG-13 (AO3 Flavor)

The dregs of the evening dripped by slow and unhurried as they made their way through the neon-drenched streets. Rainwater mingled with the bloody handprint staining V’s neck, and soaked into her shirt. Jackie draped arm over her shoulders as they walked, comfortably enough.

It wasn’t enough to keep her dry, but that wasn’t why he did it.

Between the street and the upper levels of her building, she had slipped out from under his arm again, but she only pulled away from him in sight of home. The door slid open under her touch. On reflex Jackie moved to follow her, and nearly stepped right into her when, halfway through, she half-turned, blocking his way.

“You stayin’ the night?”

“Was planning on it being that way, yeah.”

It blindsided him, because when was that ever a question?

But a soft smile played across her lips, warming his heart, even though it faded out again almost as soon as it appeared. She stepped into the apartment, and once he’d followed her through the door hissed closed behind them.

Jackie shook his jacket out near the door, and V let hers slump near the couch, rainwater and all.

He drew her into his arms, pressing a kiss on her forehead as she turned into his embrace. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, then her hand flattened against his chest. She huffed a little breath right up against his mouth, and pushed herself away.

“Um. I’m gonna go... get washed up.” That sounded like a plan, until she followed it up with, “Order dinner, would you please?”

Already stripping out of her damp shirt, she stepped in the direction of the shower.

Jackie found he couldn’t argue, because dinner sounded like as good a plan. “Anything particular you in the mood for? Pizza?”

“Pizza would be perfect,” she called back.

Raising an eyebrow at the trail of clothes in her wake, Jackie smirked at the answer.

It took him a handful of minutes to connect the call and wait, and another few to place an order. By the time he was finished and moved to join her, V was stepping out of the shower again.

“I should have some clothes that’d fit you if you wanna get clean,” she remarked, slipping past him. On a second thought, she smiled wryly. “I... think they might be yours, come to think of it.”

Again, he couldn’t argue. Not with logic, anyway. It might not have been the usual way he expected things to go around here by now, but clean sounded nice.

And once he was finished getting clean – pulling his hair back up and finding the towel she’d left for him on the sink and the clothes beneath it – he thought she must’ve been right – these were his. His other clothes were gone, and hers were gone from the floor – all bundled together down the laundry chute he supposed.

Pizza had been delivered, and V was sitting on the couch, watching the bright rainy midnight outside the window. There was a strange wistfulness to her expression as she picked her bites, a melancholy that didn’t fit.

Then she noticed him, and it was gone. But it left behind that strange sort of a distance now between them; one that wasn’t there before. Jackie didn’t think it’d been there earlier in the evening, and not even on the job.

V slid herself over to make room for him, and nudged the pizza boxes and paper plates stacked on top of them.

“S’good,” she told him, before taking another bite of her slice. “Still warm.”

She didn’t curl up next to him like Jackie might have otherwise expected, simply went back to watching the window as he served himself. He watched her through his entire first slice, and partway into the next before wiping his hand on his jeans.

At length, he reached up to brush his the back of his fingers across her cheek, and she shivered; flicking his eyes towards him, she froze under his gaze as though she only just now remembered he was there.

You’re acting kinda weird, you know that? he wanted to tell her. He also wanted to know, Everything alright with you?

All he asked was, “V?”

“I, um... It’s just that...” sucking in a breath, she staggered through, “I’ve been thinking some shit through, and it might it’d be better if we chilled it... maybe, for a little while. You know?”

It sent a cold bucket of ice down his back. Shifting in his seat, Jackie forced himself to settle down again. He split his attention between her and his food.

“Yeah... sure, whatever you want.”

V nodded once, curtly, forcing a smile that nowhere near reached her eyes, and...

That was it.

He wanted to ask the details, but he knew better.

They ate in silence. Jackie barely tasted whatever flavor it was the pizza was meant to emulate. There was a dull ache of loss in his chest where there shouldn’t have been, because that was never what this thing between them was meant to be about in the first place.

Then he chuckled, sitting up straighter.

“Oh. I get it now, I see what’s going on – you went and fell in love, didn’t you?”

Her head snapped towards him, her eyes wide and a question of How did you...? all but written across her face. Caught, she took in a shaky breath, and shook her head.

“I... kept wanting to tell you, but I couldn’t figure out how...”

“Ah huh,” Jackie followed his lead, “And now this guy is telling you that if you wanna be with him, he doesn’t want you fooling around with anyone else.”

V blinked at him, mouth open until she thought to close it.

“No...” She ventured, “Actually, he’s been really understanding about that part. I just... I feel like I’m being unfair to him, you know?”

“Yeah, alright. I guess I can see where you’re coming from.”

Jackie took a thoughtful bite of pizza as he mulled it over. V sat still beside him, eyes drifting closed, only to snap open again when he nudged her with his elbow.

“So tell me about this guy of yours.”

“He’s... uh...” V itched the skin surrounding her neural port. “He’s... kind. Caring. Generous... just... been really, really good to me since I’ve known him. I think he gets me better than anyone I’ve ever met...” Her shoulders dropped, and she fell to playing with the hem of her sleeve. “Might even know me better than I know myself, sometimes.”

“Guess there’s no way I can compete with that,” Jackie admitted. “Anybody I know, or...?”

“I... yeah,” she sighed harshly, “You introduced us.”

“...I did?”

She nodded, flashing him a shallow smile that didn’t last. A moment to think it through, and Jackie made a sharp ha! of triumph, snapping his fingers, and pointed to her.

“It’s Vik, isn’t it?”

“...no, it isn’t Vik.”

“¿No?”

“No.”

“Ah.”

Jackie blew out a breath as he wracked his brain.

“It is a guy, right? Someone I introduced you to...” She’d said he, and wasn’t contradicting him, so he presumed. He squinted at her. “It’s not my cousin, is it?”

“No. It’s not your cousin.”

...which was a slight relief, if he was about to be honest. “Good for that.”

Going down the options in his mind, Jackie scratched his chin. The list of guys he’d introduced her to wasn’t terribly short, but it was mostly business, and apart from Vik he couldn’t remember her ever so much as talking it up with any of them.

Or if she had, he hadn’t noticed. And he thought he would’ve noticed something like this.

Wouldn’t he have?

If so, why hadn’t he noticed before now?

Moreover, none of them seemed to fit her description.

“A'ight, I give up, V. Who is it?”

V had abandoned her plate, staring into space where half a slice of pizza sat on the coffee table.

“You’re not even gonna tell me, are you?” Jackie asked. “Come on, you think like I’m gonna hurt the guy or somethin’? I just wanna congratulate him, you know? Tell him how lucky he is to have gotten in good with my partner.”

“Jackie just... drop it. Alright?”

“Tch. Fine, have it your way.”

Jackie finished the crust of his pizza, and crumpled up his plate, carrying it with him as he got to his feet. It went in the garbage on his way to retrieve his jacket.

V didn’t seem to want him here, and he wasn’t about to impose.

He had one arm through a sleeve when behind him he heard her move; a faint rustle of her clothes and squeak of faux leather as she moved off the couch and the electric whisper of the door to her stash.

Jackie froze.

Licked his lip.

Swallowed.

Shrugged the rest of his jacket on, before turning around to face the glass door.

Something was wrong with all of this. V wasn’t acting like a woman in love; she was hurting something fierce and trying to stem the damage.

Jackie couldn’t leave her that way. Wouldn’t have forgiven himself ever if he had.

He caught up to her emptying out the pockets to her jacket – of all the junk she’d picked up that evening, and then some – onto her workbench. As he watched, a glass marble rolled over the edge, bouncing once before continuing across the floor.

Jackie leaned down to snatch it as it rolled right up to him, and straightened again, turning the marble this way and that.

It was clear, speckled with a cloud of sparkling little stars. Jackie smiled faintly, despite everything else – it was exactly V’s kind of treasure.

“Hey, V?” he asked, distantly, “This guy you’re sweet on... he even know you got a thing for him?”

“What...?” Her sorting grew slower, and V roused enough to answer a small, lost, “...no.”

The little stars in Jackie’s palm caught in the light. He blinked, and closed his fingers around them.

“He does now.”

V stilled.

The door closed behind him, his deceptively light steps carrying him to her side at the table. She squared towards him; holding out his hand, he offered her the marble back. She stared at it, and for a moment her hand hovered over his before she forced it back down to her side.

Jackie dropped his hand.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. It was written in the way her eyes narrowed, and the grim set of her mouth.

“How long you been bottling this up, V?”

“Six months? A year?” She scoffed, then sighed. “From the beginning? I think I felt different once, but... now I can’t even remember what that was like.”

“That’s a long fuckin’ time.”

Not like he was one to talk from experience or anything.

But it explained things. Some things. Not everything. In some ways, not anything.

The marble had grown warm in his palm.

Again, he offered it back to her.

Again, V didn’t take it.

Jackie glanced at it, then back to the glass door. He placed the marble on the table amidst the rest of her collection, and scratched behind his ear.

“You, uh...” he managed to choke it out without sounding too strangled, “want me to go?”

“Of course not.” It came out in a rush of breath. “I want you to stay, I want to be close to you, I wanted to tell you, but... I just... It feels like I’m breaking what I’d promised you; like I’m taking more than I....”

She trailed off, and when nothing more seemed forthcoming, Jackie sighed.

He reached for her hand, and felt a little flutter of hope when she didn’t pull away. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“So what’re we gonna do about this thing of yours you been keepin’ all to yourself over a year?”

V shook her head. She twisted her hand in his, slowly, until she had a loose hold. Then she raised his hand up to press the heel of his thumb to her lips.

A deceptively gentle little, “I don’t know,” whispered across his skin.

Jackie returned the sentiment, drawing her hand to his mouth. “Really, chica; what’s not to know, eh?”

She didn’t answer, not in an immediate rush, and he let her have her hand back, tracing the ink up her arm before letting his arm fall. When she did find her voice, it cracked, and V admitted softly, “I liked what we had. I didn’t want anything to change.”

“...who sayin’ anything’s gotta change?”

V blinked at nothing, then at him. Incredulity stained her voice. “You really think this doesn’t change anything?”

He thought about it for a few seconds, then acquiesced a nod. With a burst of laughter, he swept her off the floor, and V gave a sharp squeak of surprise, holding on as he spun her around. Loose cards and trinkets scattered, brushed from the table by the arc of her legs, and one of her feet smacked into a box of ammunition, clattering it over.

Mindful of none of it, Jackie dipped her forward, and she stretched out her knee in counterbalance.

“You’re right, it changes everything,” he let on with a grin. “But hey, who ever told you change has to be a bad thing?”

She managed to get her arms around his neck as he righted them. Hooking one arm under her knees so she was braced against one side, Jackie carried her back out through the door.

“Fuck’s sake. What if it didn’t work out? What if we ended up hating each other? Jackie, I couldn’t-...”

Jackie shrugged. His grip loosened, and he let her slide down beside the window. “What if you miss all the best things in your life ‘cause of what if, huh? What then?”

She reached to touch his arm, and her fingers curled as she dropped her hand again, falling back against the window.

“I don’t know,” she whispered again.

Jackie tsked.

“Hey, V, you wanna know a secret?” He pushed her hair back over her shoulder, and leaned in close to her ear to divulge, “I like you, too.”

She huffed – a sharp, shaky little breath that skimmed his shoulder.

“So really,” Jackie asked, “what’re you gonna do about it?”

Raising her chin as though to meet the hint of a challenge in his voice, V fixed her gaze on him, expression inscrutable. For half a moment longer, besides the tracing of her eyes, she remained still.

Then her fingers were bunched up in his shirt, and he let himself be pulled down to her level as she drew herself up against him. Her mouth found his in a demanding question of fervor and desire, tinged with something soft like adoration, and he pushed her right back up against the window.

A sense of relief flooded through him as her hands slipped over his shoulders, locking behind his neck, and he drew her into his arms, tucking his face against her shoulder and enfolding her in a tight embrace.

“Fuck,” V breathed, “what did I almost do?”

“Nothin’,” Jackie chuckled. “‘Cause I was here to rattle some sense back into that gonk-brained crazy head of yours.”

V made a small sound in her throat. Not even an argument.

“Just don’t ever let go.”

Her arms tightened against his neck, and he pressed his arm a little more firmly against her back.

“Never,” Jackie promised. “Never ever.”

[juno-eclipsee]

A Ruined Night - Poe Dameron x reader

A/n: I’m back to my regularly scheduled angsty crap. Fun fact this entire situation is essentially my greatest fear so go wild with that

Rating: G

Warnings: Cursing, that be it

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: A plan to confess to Poe after a major victory goes awry.

     Another victory for the Resistance! Nobody could believe the lucky streak they’d been having. The celebration was in full swing because the pilots, ground troops, medics, and everyone in between didn’t know which successful mission would be their last. But essentially all negative thoughts had been thrown out the window for just this night. 

     All the pilots sat around a bonfire in the center of the tarmac, bottles from everyone’s personal stashes being passed around. They had spent the whole night together, and they were definitely the only ones still awake. Everyone but them had the common sense to go to sleep, but how could they? The energy was electric, the joy was palpable, laughs were echoing through the forest. Poe thought he would never feel like this again. The sun was just about to peek above the horizon, the sky lighting up just a bit, and the remaining pilots finally decided to “go to bed” which would really be for an hour or two. 

     Everyone gathered in stomping out the embers of the fire, and Major Y/n volunteered to clean it up fully so they wouldn’t get yelled at by Leia in the morning. She got a few hugs and claps on the back for taking one for the team. She got an affirming nod from Karé, who knew what was about to go down. Y/n seemed calm and appreciative on the outside, but her heart was beating with the speed and rhythm of a snare drum on crack. 

     This was her last shot. Her mouth moved before her brain could stop it. 

     “Oh, Poe,” she called out. He spun on his heels and wobbled a bit to face her. “Could I talk to you for a second?” 

     “Sure. What’s on your mind?” he asked, sitting down on the crate closest to where she was standing. Her hands started shaking. Why did she think this was a good idea again? But Karé’s words echoed in her head ‘Maybe he likes you back. You’ll never know until you ask.’ What terrible advice.

     “Ok this is going to sound really sudden and weird and I… I really just need to get this off my chest. If that’s okay?” She stopped pacing for just a moment to gage his reaction. He was leaning back on his hands, legs swinging off the crate, clearly still buzzed. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

     “Sure, spill.” Y/n took a deep breath. Now or never. “Wait!” He yelled, making Y/n jump out of her skin. “Is this something bad? Are you sick or hurt or dying or something? Are you leaving the Resistance?” Each question was asked more urgently than the last, he was leaning forward, eyes filled with worry. 

      “No! No, nothing like that, nothing bad.” She said, trying to be as reassuring as possible. Poe whispered a quick ‘Oh thank the stars’ before gesturing towards Y/n to continue. She  had started wringing her hands in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the nerves coursing through every fiber of her being. “I really don’t know how to say this but, with this crazy streak of luck we’ve hit, I can’t really help but think that the next one is just going to be a disaster. So I guess I just wanted to say this while I still had the chance.” Her voice was getting shaky, the anxiety consuming her being obvious now, no matter how much they had to drink. 

     “Why are you talking like you’re never going to see me again? Whatever the next mission is it isn’t going to be your last, you’re too stubborn for something like that.” He said, smiling mostly to himself. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted. Continue.”

     “I really like you. And I have for a really long time. And I spent so long being afraid of telling you, I was just being unfair to myself. And I’m so afraid of what might happen in the future that I wanted to tell you myself while I can.” Y/n’s eyes were fixed on him, not daring to look away. 

     The weight she had been carrying for the past three years lifted off her shoulders, finally. 

     Until she heard Poe sigh. And the weight settled twice as heavy in the pit of her stomach.

     “Um,” She heard Poe start. She didn’t know what to make of what she was seeing. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to start a sentence about three times before sighing again. His knee started bouncing and Y/n had never wanted to just disappear more in her life. “Y/n, although I really like you,” Her eyes shot to the ground. She could have sworn she heard glass shatter somewhere in her head. Bad start. “I just…” another sigh, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea to get into a relationship during a time like this, you know?” He looked at her, praying that she would at least look at him. But her eyes darted around everywhere except him, maybe trying to look for an answer. She started nodding.

     “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I just,” She didn’t know what to say as tears started welling up. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea.” She tried to laugh off her tears of embarrassment, but she wasn’t hiding anything from Poe. 

     “Hey, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” 

     “No, I have everything to be sorry for because I completely ruined your night and made everything awkward and now you’re going to pity me for however long in the future and,” She turned her back to Poe, not wanting him to see her like this even after she just poured her heart out to him. “Look, I’m really sorry about all this. Can you just pretend this never happened? You should probably go to bed at some point too.” She was trying to get rid of him, he realized. Maybe it would be for the best. He wouldn’t want to be around the person who broke his heart for too long either. 

     “Are you sure you’re going to be alright for now?” He at least had to ask. She was extremely emotionally compromised and the last thing anyone needed was to have her do something stupid because of it. 

     “I really just want to be alone if that’s okay.” She said, finally turning around to look at him again. The rising sun wasn’t helping her case. Her face was red and puffy from holding in tears, which shattered Poe’s heart even though it had no right to when she was in a state like this. But he nodded nonetheless and got off the crate. 

     “I’ll leave you alone now. I’m really sorry, Y/n. If the situation was different-” 

     “The situation is what it is and it isn’t going to change. And you don’t have to be sorry about having emotions of your own, okay?” She said, sniffling by the end. 

     “Neither do you.” He countered. “I’ll see you around.” Poe Dameron had been beaten, shot, tortured, and yet walking away from her was one of the most painful things he’d ever have to do. He took one look over his shoulder and she hadn’t moved a muscle. 

     When Poe finally made it to his room, he laid on his back above the covers staring at the ceiling in a trance. What he said to her was true. He didn’t want to forge a romantic relationship when either member could die at any second. It was just irresponsible. He had essentially a schoolboy crush on her since the moment he met her, but he thought that after years of pining and meaningless flirting that it was never going to happen. But her confession sparked the remnants of his crush into a steady little fire inside of him, and it was too late to act on it without having it seem pitiful.

     He thought by not telling her he at least used to feel the same it would be easier on both of them. He realized now just how stupid that sounds when he really sits down and thinks about it. Black Squadron is usually so good at giving him a heads up if they know someone had a crush on him so he could figure out a way to let them down gently. But he was blindsided by her. So he panicked and broke her heart.

    He covered his eyes with his arms. He just lost one of his best friends. He wished it wasn’t true, that they could look past this hiccup in their relationship and everything would go back to normal. He had only seen Y/n cry a handful of times in the years he’d known her, she wasn’t going to just overlook this like it never happened. 

    The gravity of it all was a punch in the gut to Poe. Well not so much a punch, more of a carve his chest open and rip out his beating heart kind of feeling. But he had no right to complain. No matter what, Y/n had it worse and he had nobody to blame but himself.

     Y/n stood still as a statue on the tarmac as Poe walked away, ripping their conversation to shreds mentally, analyzing every word said, finding a thousand things she could have done differently. 

     With tears streaming down her face, she grabbed a broom and started pushing away the cold ashes of the fire to the grass nearby. She very desperately needed a distraction, even though she knew in her heart it wouldn’t do any good. She knew she wouldn’t be going to sleep anyway, so she did what anyone would do in her situation. She hid in the privacy of her ship and cried of pure embarrassment until there weren’t any tears left. 

     When she finally pulled herself together after what felt like hours, her datapad vibrated in her pocket. 

     How’d it go?!

     Karé. Three simple words managed to make her feel so much worse. She typed a quick response before going back to sulking.

     Bad. Don’t want to talk about it. 

     Y/n took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She still had to go to work soon and do her best to avoid Poe. Another buzz.

     I’m going to fucking kill him for you, understand?? 

     Y/n scoffed and smirked. Karé absolutely would give him a hard time about it. At least she had someone in her corner after such a terrible night.