#which I don’t think will work because I need to save a pov for after something happens

[kirisclangen]

Larchpaw

She/her, 8 moons, cis molly

[tsurugis]

My mother in law finished my first book in the trilogy I’m writing and I’m dead because she loves it skjndjkdhidj she read the last hundred fifty pages in nearly one sitting and said it’s the strongest part of the book but that it’s well worth how “slow” the beginning is because by the time shit starts going down you really know the characters well I’m dead. she’s weird as hell about books and it’s not her genre but I live with her and I know she wouldn’t be able to fake liking it she can be mean as hell pfpflkjf

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 5: We Got Us An IKEA Virgin

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Soft Ben/Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), derogatory comments, sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This one is incredibly fluffy and self-indulgent, let's be honest, all of my fics are and I'm not sorry. This chapter contains an absolutely cutesy scenario that I just had to write, so if you don't like anything like that then probably shouldn't read it :) If you love that kind of thing then ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“What the fuck is this place?” Ben asks in disbelief as he looks around the spacious lobby of the Brooklyn IKEA.

The smell of cinnamon buns, chocolate chip cookies, coffee, and Swedish meatballs wafts over the crowded lobby towards where the two of you stand just inside the welcoming large blue and yellow front doors. Light streams through the front windows tickling against your skin and spreading over the front tables where various displays of houseplants bask in the late afternoon sun. They stretch their leaves towards the sunlight, unfurling towards the light each in various shades of green, sitting in happy colored pots waiting to be picked up by the people who weave through the front lobby.

There were less here than at the plant shop of course, but there were still enough plants for you to feel the prickle of your powers beneath your skin and feel the plants begin to tilt towards you as they sense you enter the building.

“It’s IKEA. You’ve never been to IKEA before?” You say taking a step towards the display of snake plants, livening up a few that look like they could use a little love, feeling the gentle bend of their firm leaves straighten beneath your touch.

“I don’t know if you remember this or not Petals, but I haven’t exactly been out and about in forty years. And I have no idea why you’ve been here before.”

“Well I’ve never been to this exact location before, but there was one an hour away from where Annie and I grew up. There wasn’t much to do where we lived so we drove to that one. But that’s beside the point. IKEA was created in the 50’s which means you had thirty years to experience all of this.” You glance up at him mildly confused.

He could have at least heard of IKEA in the thirty years he had before he got taken to Russia.

“So? I’ve never been shopping for furniture. I just made Legend do that shit for me. I was saving the world. Didn’t have time to go picking out couches like a fucking pansy.” Ben frowns down at you.

“Really? You didn’t care what was in your apartment? You didn't want to test out a couch before you bought it?” You think about your vintage bedside table and carved wooden headboard that you found when thrifting with Annie one weekend. "I mean you had to look at it everyday."

Ben shrugs. “Wasn’t there too much. Really just needed the bed.“

"So you're telling me you're an IKEA virgin?" You gasp dramatically.

Ben quirks the end of his lips mildly amused. "Will you be gentle with me if I say yes?"

"I'll consider it." You shrug. "But then again it was you that said you liked it a little rough and that there was nothing gentle about you. So, I think you're just gonna have to put on your big boy pants and follow my lead."

"Baby I can't wait to show you just how big I-"

You roll your eyes and turn back to the plants that need your attention, interrupting the end of his sentence. "I really hope that whoever lives in your old apartment burned down the whole building and then rebuilt. Seems like the only way to purge what happened there in the bed you're so proud of.” You shudder trying hard not to think about what happened in Ben’s old apartment and say a prayer that the same thing won’t happen in yours.

Not in front of my plants, they're young and impressionable for fucks sake.

It had been three days since Ben and you had watched a movie on your couch and exactly two days after he’d moved all his stuff in from Butcher’s apartment. Stuff being a relative term because it was really just a large garbage bag filled with his clothes.

It made you feel even worse for him when he showed up at your front door with that, but you had cleaned out the linen closet and removed a few of the shelves inside it for Ben to use. It was a better alternative to him using your bedroom closet. The last thing you wanted was for him to come into your room at inopportune times.

The team had different reactions to finding out the two of you were living together. Butcher had mocked you endlessly, Frenchie and Kimiko had bought you a ridiculously skimpy, cheap, and tight set of lacy lingerie that looked more like dental floss than anything else, MM told you that you were making a mistake, Hughie was stunned, and Annie was annoying you without end.

Annie had begun to send you pictures of what Ben and your children would look like and you had retaliated by telling Hughie about the Fourth of July disaster that happened when you and Annie were sixteen. When Annie was in the cherry pie eating contest after deciding to partake in cheaply made moonshine her boyfriend, Dominic, had stolen from his dad and then vomited red froth all over her boyfriend when he tried to kiss her and made him throw up all over her.

You still couldn’t look at a cherry pie without gagging.

Unfortunately that just made the photos get more and more unhinged. The last one was a picture of a body builder standing in a green house with a baby’s face photoshopped on it.

You suspected that Hughie had something to do with that one. And as revenge, you sent Annie a picture of a baby with a light bulb photoshopped where its head should be.

But while sitting on your couch watching that ridiculous movie with Ben, you realized that if Ben was really going to move in you needed to get a bigger one, one that he could at least stretch out on without his legs hanging over the end and one that he wouldn't have to worry about falling off of if he moved more than a centimeter.

You and Ben had spent the morning driving around in Butcher’s car going from auto shop to auto shop trying to see if anyone knew anything about the supe, or had seen anything weird happen the nights the cars were jacked. None of the workers saw anything or had seemed suspicious of Ben and you asking questions. The owner of the last auto shop had said that one week ago someone had broken in and stolen some equipment, but the auto shop didn’t have any security cameras. Which meant you were back to square one.

You dreaded the call to Butcher, but when you walked out of the last auto shop you noticed tables and chairs being unloaded from a large truck and when you went over to ask what was going on, you found out that one of the representatives who was running for city comp troller in the next election was throwing a gala on Saturday night.

That meant that the streets would be lined with expensive cars, and you knew that was something the supe wouldn’t be able to pass up. Expensive cars in his neighborhood just waiting to be stripped. So now Butcher was making a plan for Saturday night and you were stuck with Ben.

But lately it hadn't felt like you were stuck with him. It felt different.

You were surprised that it had been three days and Ben and you hadn’t killed each other, in fact it was almost kind of nice. Yes he still annoyed the shit out of you and made comments about sleeping with him, but you were getting used to him being there when you got home. Not to mention he actually fixed a leak underneath the kitchen sink that you’d told the super about time and time again for the past four months with no reply.

You didn’t know that Ben knew how to do that kind of stuff. Figured that he never got his hands dirty, but then you’d seen him on his back under the sink with a newly purchased toolbox on the ground next to him. When you'd tried to tell him that you could call someone to do that, he'd waved you off and said that it was a man's job to fix things around the house. But that hadn't stopped you from sitting on the ground next to him and ask him exactly what he was doing so you knew how.

When you’d asked him why he needed to fix it so urgently, Ben said that the dripping was keeping him up at night and the duct tape that you’d put there was about as useful as a broken condom.

Of course it hadn't all been good. 

The closest you’d come to killing him was when he came home one night ago and Mike was in the hallway with you, desperately trying to find out how serious your and Ben’s relationship was. Ben had come up behind you, pulled you into him with a strong hand on your waist, while his other arm wrapped gently under your neck. and had begun to kiss up and down the column of your throat while whispering things loudly that even made Mike's cheeks flush a dark crimson. You wanted to choke Ben out while you desperately tried to ignore how good it felt to be in his arms, how his beard scratched pleasantly against your skin, and how nice and warm he was. Mike had gotten the message and retreated to his apartment and to retaliate you had a key made for Ben that was bright pink and had a picture of hello kitty on it.

But you hadn't been angry enough to abandon Ben this morning when he left the apartment to take out the trash and immediately got cornered by Mike's mother on the wall beside the elevator. You opened the front door of the apartment and saw him pinned to the wall with Mike's mother's hand on Ben's chest, tracing over his muscles while saying that he reminded her of her ex-husband who seemed to keep her up all night long. When his eyes met yours, it was the closest you'd ever seen to genuine fear, and it made you laugh, because you'd seen him face down supes without batting an eye, but he was afraid of a less than five foot tall woman in a bright yellow and green mumu. An evil part of yourself wanted to leave him there as payback, to shut the door and forget about him, but you figured you owed him for fixing your sink so you helped him get away.

"I haven't checked that, but if anything they should have immortalized that apartment for posterity." Ben grins widely, his eyes awash with memories of a past long gone. "Do you have any idea what I did to-"

"Ah- no-" You put your fingers in your ears. "La la la la la."

Ben pulls out one of your fingers. "You're right, I don't need to tell you. Why don't we go back to our apartment and I can show you?" He steps closer to you, his grin dipping into a roughish smirk that makes his eyes glint with mischief.

"Oh hush." You place one hand on his chest, ignoring how good it feels under his hands and push him back. "We're here to get a couch."

"Fine. But I've got the perfect way to christen it when we get back." Ben winks.

You stare blankly at him, feigning confusion. "I didn't know you wanted to learn how to crochet that bad, but I've got enough yarn to show you when we get back."

"What?"

"I mean that is what I usually do on the couch. But don't worry, it's a lot easier than it looks." You shrug before grabbing a snake plant in a brightly colored orange pot and place it in the top part of the cart. You didn't have one at the apartment and it was supposed to make the air cleaner. Given how much weed Ben smoked, you figured the two of you could use it.

Or maybe a whole damn field of it.

You had already made the jasmine on the wall behind the t.v multiply exponentially to make up for the smell, but you didn't mind it. You'd also noticed that Ben seemed to be slowing down how much he was smoking. Whenever you went to Butcher's apartment in the past he always had a blunt, but in the past three days you'd only seen him with one a few times. You wondered why that was. Ben had told you before that it helped him with his PTSD, but you wondered what could have changed.

“You’re getting another plant?”

“Never ask me that question Gramps, not unless you want to get an ass-full of cactus.” You push the cart towards the food area intent on getting a coffee. This morning the two of you had been in a hurry and you hadn't been able to have one.

“Hello! How are you today?” The person behind the counter says with a wide smile. She was pretty, with thick light brown hair pushed back by a floral scarf and a large pair of hoop earrings.

See she took her happy pills. Now if only Ben would.

“I’m great how are you?” You smile back.

“I’m doing fantastic!” She beams. “What can I get you today?”

“Can I get a hazelnut coffee with cream and sugar please?”

“Okay." Her eyes flick back to where Ben is glowering behind you. "Does your boyfriend want anything?”

“Oh he’s not my-“ You begin to wave a hand.

“Can I get a black coffee?” Ben interrupts not bothering to correct her.

“Of course. Y’all are so cute.” She smiles typing something into her register. “You’ve got that height difference and everything.”

“No actually we’re not tog-“ You begin to say again, but Ben weaves his arm around your waist.

“Thank you.” Ben gives her a charming smile as he pulls your right hip back into his left. “We just moved in together. It’s a really big step, but I just couldn’t stay away from my girl.”

“Congratulations!”  Her eyes shift to the plant in the basket. “Aww and you guys are getting a plant. How wonderful!”

“Yeah it’s our love plant.” Your smile turns more into a snarl as you reach up and pinch Ben’s cheeks painfully between your fingers hoping that it hurts. “I’m trying to see if Benny-Wenny here can keep it alive. Because if he doesn’t then our love will die.” You say doing your best Kate Hudson impression. When you say die you emphasize the word by squeezing his cheeks again, but Ben only smiles around it, his eyes gleaming.

“Oh um- okay.” The girls smile drops just a watt sensing the tension between the two of you. “Well your total is 10.78.”

You reach for your phone preparing to use the Apple Pay function, but Ben hands the girl a twenty before you can.

“Aww and he pays too.” The girl coos looking like she’s going to swoon. “What a gentleman.”

Honey he’s about as far from a gentleman as you can imagine.

“I’m certainly going to make him.” You reply, elbowing him hard in the stomach. “Given what I have to go through.” You mutter that last part, earning a chuckle from Ben.

When you finally get your coffee you walk off, following the arrows on the ground to where the sleeper couches should be while sipping on your coffee with Ben walking next to you.

A comfortable silence builds between the two of you as you walk through the aisles, watching couples hold hands and point at dining room tables, children beg their parents for bunk beds, and teenagers play hide and seek.

One brushes past you making some of your coffee slosh over the rim of the cup onto your shirt, and continues to run, but he doesn't get far. Ben grabs the back of his shirt and hauls him back.

"Apologize." Ben growls narrowing his eyes at the kid who looks like he might cry.

"Ben it's okay-"

"I'm sorry." The boy says his eyes wide.

Ben drops him, satisfied with his answer, and the boy scampers off to his friends who all look back at Ben like he's crazy.

"You didn't have to do that." You say, wiping your finger at the stain on your white and black striped t-shirt. "He's just a kid."

"He should have apologized." Ben grunts handing you the napkin that's wrapped around his coffee.

"Thanks." You dab at the spot, but you know it won't do much use.

"The younger generation these days seems short on respect."

You snort out a laugh, balling the napkin up and toss it in a trashcan nearby. "Statements like that really age you Gramps."

"So does that fucking nickname." He sighs.

"You never told me your real name when we first met and I told you that I was going to come up with a fun nickname to call you. You can only blame yourself." You take the last sip of coffee, stepping off the path to examine a bright red couch that looks long enough for Ben to sleep on.

"What's wrong?" Ben asks.

"Huh?" You look up at him.

"You're making the face you always do when something is wrong."

You blink for a minute. Is he talking about what Annie calls my 'suffer in silence face?' How the hell does he know about that?

"I don't like the color." You say hesitantly.

"I don't either." Ben takes your empty coffee cup and throws it away with his. "What about that one?" He points at a soft black couch on the other side. It has a function that allows apart of the cushions to extend into a bed, easy to move in and out. You sit down.

"It's sort of comfy."

Ben sits down directly beside you, even though there's enough room for him to sit on the other side. "It's okay."

"What? Your butt isn't comfortable?" You tease him, elbowing him playfully.

Ben rolls his eyes at you. "Can't you take anything seriously?"

"What's the fun in that Gramps?" You sit back against the cushions. "But you're right. My butt is not pleased."

"What a shame. I'd hate for something so delicious be disappointed." Ben replies turning to look at you.

You ignore his comment. "Come on, let's go check that one."

As you go deeper and deeper into the bowels of IKEA, it begins to get colder and colder. Goosebumps pebble over your arms as you gaze down at the charcoal colored couch. You rub your hands up and down them to warm them up.

Why is it so damn cold in here? It’s not that hot outside!

More goosebumps erupt over your skin as you walk around the couch thinking that movement will help with the chill. And just as you come back around to the front of the couch, Ben’s leather jacket  drapes over your shoulders.

It’s too big for you, but you almost moan in relief as you sink into the warmth it holds. It was still warmed from Ben's body, and smelled exactly like his cologne. Something spicy and masculine that made you feel like you’d bought one of those cinnamon brooms sold around Christmastime.

You look up at him in surprise. “What about you?”

“I run hot.” He shrugs. “Plus I don't want you to turn into a popsicle.”

“Thank you.” You say too cold to argue as you put your arms through the sleeves that hang several inches past your hands.

Wow that's actually kind of sweet.

“Mhmm.” He grunts looking at the couch in front of you. “Kinda a shame though.”

“Huh?”

Ben leans back to look behind you with a mournful sigh. “It covers up your gorgeous ass.”

And he’s back.

“Why don’t you just-“

“Y/n!” You hear a familiar voice call cutting off your next words, and you turn towards it.

Jake is wheeling a cart towards the two of you, a collection of ceramic pots in his basket, waving his hand enthusiastically. “What are you doing here?” He’s smiling just as brightly at you as always, his hair swept back over his head, blue eyes filled with mirth.

“Be nice.” You mutter under your breath to Ben, who huffs in response. “Hey Jake. Ben and I were just looking at couches.”

“Couches?” Jake takes in your close proximity and the fact that you’re wearing Ben’s jacket. “Why?”

“Oh well-“

“For our apartment.” Ben says tightly, emphasizing the word 'our.' He’s frowning at Jake, eyes narrowed.

Why does he have such a problem with him?

“You guys are moving in together?” Jake looks confused, and if he clocks Ben’s rude attitude he doesn’t show it. “I thought you said that you just work together?”

“Why do you care plant boy?” Ben snaps.

“Ben!” You hiss, elbowing him hard. “I’m sorry Jake, you’ll have to excuse Gramps, he’s not used to talking to civilized people.” You turn to glare at Ben. “Why don’t you go look at that couch over there?”

“I’m comfortable here, thanks Petals.”

You continue to glare at him while Jake stands there awkwardly not sure what to say.

“Fucking fine.” Ben mutters under his breath and stomps off in the direction of a bright yellow couch that looks like it could sleep five people.

You turn back to Jake with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry-“

“It’s okay.” Jake smiles. “My sister is dating someone just like him. I’m used to it.”

I doubt she’s dating a horny 104 year old that’s been on ice for forty years and tortured in a Russian lab.

“What are you doing here?” You look down at his cart noting the ceramic planters.

"They're having a sale, thought we could use some new ones for display in the shop." Jake shrugs. "I see that you found a plant you like."

"Well you can never have too many." You smile.

"I completely agree." Jake glances over to where Ben is supposed to be trying out a brilliant yellow couch, and he is sitting on it, but he's glaring at Jake. "Um, well I guess I'll see you at work on Monday?"

"Yep I'll be there."

"Oh actually-" Jake pauses to clear his throat. "There's a plant show this weekend at the farmer's market by my apartment on Saturday morning. Did you want to come with me? It might be fun."

"Oh-um- I'm not sure. Butcher might have something to do for me to do on Saturday. And I'm sure you're plenty capable of picking out inventory." You smile at that last part. It was true, Jake always did a wonderful job of picking out plants for the shop. He'd never asked you to go with him before.

"Actually-" Jake rubs the back of his neck, cheeks flushed. "I-uh- didn't mean for inv-"

"I don't like this one Petals." Ben shouts from the other side of the room interrupting what Jake was going to say.

You turn to stare at him. He's still sitting on the brilliant yellow couch, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Jake.

He's such a toddler, can't sit still for two seconds.

You sigh and twist back to Jake. "I'm sorry he's a literal child. What were you saying?"

"I-" Jake clears his throat, smiling tightly. His eyes flick back to Ben's cold stare, before he looks back at you. "Nevermind. I'll see you at work on Monday okay?"

"Yeah okay." You hold up your hand in a wave as he turns and leaves, walking quickly away down the concrete path towards the front doors.

You stomp over to the couch where Ben is still glowering at Jake.

"I like the gray one better." Ben stands and points at the one you two had originally been standing at when Jake walked up.

"I can't believe you just did that. Why did you have to be so mean? He was just being nice, making conversation." You huff, planting your hands on your hips. "You're from the fucking '20s aren't you supposed to understand basic human decency instead of acting like a modern day fuck-boy?"

"I don't understand what that means. And I don't like him."

"Why? What has he done to make you hate him? You've barely said two words to him since you met four days ago."

"I just don't." Ben frowns at Jake's retreating figure, who does seem to be gaining some serious speed.

You couldn't blame him, Ben could look downright murderous when he wanted to. But you didn't understand why he hated Jake so much, why he couldn't stand to be around him. Jake was polite and kind, yes, two things opposite of Ben, but Jake hadn't done anything to make Ben hate him. You'd been present at both of their interactions and Jake hadn't said anything mean let alone frowned at Ben.

"He's my boss. And if we're going to be seen in public together sometimes you're going to have to try to make an effort to be nicer to him."

"Why?"

"Because I need that job Gramps! Butcher's pay sucks, and I don't have a bank account that has been gaining interest for eighty years, not to mention any money from being a supe or staring in ridiculous films. And if he fires me because of you I will send a Terminator into the past to kill your child self!" You poke him in the chest angrily, before you walk back over to the gray couch to lift the price tag up.

You try not to wince. It was a little more than what you had been prepared for, but Ben actually liked this one and he would be the one using it the most. It felt selfish to deprive him of that, especially since he'd been sleeping in a tank for the past forty years.

Maybe we should just buy him a bed for the living room and make that his room. It would be cheaper and I wouldn't have to give up name brand things. Your cheeks flush for a moment, realizing if you did that, you’d have to sit on Ben’s bed to watch tv. Oh yeah he’d love that. He would make so many jokes about how he finally got me into bed with him. Why did I agree to let him live with me again?

Ben looks at the price over your shoulder, noticing your reaction. "Don't worry about it."

"What?" You glance up at him surprised.

"I'll pay for it." Ben didn't look like he was kidding, his green eyes were focused on you, an unreadable emotion hidden behind them that you'd seen only a few times before. It was the same one that he'd had just before you left Butcher's apartment four days ago, the one Ben had when you said you were going to walk home alone, and the one that was so different than the angry or aroused one he had when he looked at you.

"No." You shake your head. "Ben that's crazy, I'm going to pay for some of it. I sit on that couch too-"

"Sorry Petals. I'm not going to let you pay for my bed." Ben smirks, and strokes his finger down your cheek. "But I'd love to have you join me in it."

You glare at him, leaning back so his hand falls from your face. "Ben I'm serious. I don't want you to have to pay for the whole thing."

"And I don't want you to pay for it."

"So you're saying that we're at a stalemate unless one of us is willing to commit a felony?"

"Why are you so against me paying for this? Are you going to yell at me again about the wonders of modern day feminism? Let me know now so I can rip my ears off in preparation."

"First of all, the outside of the ear is actually purely for show and made of cartiledge which means for you to avoid listening to me you would have to rip out the inside of your ears." You drop the finger you were holding up. "And second of all, it feels wrong because I use the couch when I crochet or when Annie and I drink wine, eat greasy pizza, and watch monster movies-"

"You guys get drunk and watch monster movies? Aren't women supposed to like sappy shit like Jane Austen?"

"I mean I love Mr. Darcy as much as anyone, but I'm not ashamed to admit my comfort movie is Jurassic Park. Something about them running around for their lives makes me feel better about mine."

Especially now that I have to deal with you all day long.

Ben blinks at you like he can't figure you out. Personally you were used to people looking at you that way.Weirdness was a privilege and you owned it, wore it like an eccentric billionaire's wife in a mink coat in the middle of summer.

"Petals." Ben says quietly, the look in his eyes shifts to something softer, something that you'd never seen before. Even the way he says the nickname is different, not the harsh way he says it or the teasing way, it's almost gentle. "I don't want you to worry about this. It's alright. I'm the one that barged in and made you let me live there. So I'm going to pay for it."

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to feel guilty. "Are you sure you're even okay with a sleeper couch? We could just get you a mattress."

"Nah. This one is comfortable." He nods his head in the direction of the gray couch.

"So what you're saying is," You smile as wide as you can poking him. "Your butt was comfy on that couch!"

Ben rolls his eyes. "Come on let's go, before Jake comes back and tries to ask you out again."

"He was not trying to ask me out, he was just being friendly." You roll your eyes at him as you take a picture of the tag, trying not to let Ben get to you.

"I hate to break this to you Petals, but that's exactly what he was doing." He replies. "I told you that he wanted to fuck you." Ben almost sing-songs.

"No he wasn't." You stop for a minute, back straightening. "Wait. Is that why you interrupted him?" You turn around so that you're looking at Ben again. "Because you thought he was asking me out?"

Wait a minute, was he trying to get Jake to leave so he wouldn't ask me out. Is that why Ben hates him so much? Because he's jealous? There's no way-

"No." Ben says it immediately, jaw tightening.

"Holy Shit. You're jealous!" You cackle.

"No I'm not."

“Ben why are you jealous? We aren’t together. We aren’t having sex-“

“We could be! And I'm not jealous of that fucking dandy."

“I don’t understand why you’re so attached to the idea of us sleeping together.“

“And I don’t understand why you're pretending to be so against it.”

"I'm not pretending and I'm not going to get into this argument with you again." You say exaggerating your frown.

"Deny it all you want Petals, but I know your tell." His eyes flick to the scrunch between your eyebrows. "So grab your stupid plant and let's go." He turns and moves to follow the arrows on the ground out towards the exit.

"Ben I'm serious, why are you jealous?" You jog to catch up with him, the cart rolling smoothly against the concrete floors.

"I'm not and I'm done talking about this with you!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." You begin to prance behind the cart. "You're jealous! You loooovvveee meee." You tease him.

Ben whirls around so fast, bending down towards you so close you can feel his breath against your lips, the teasing mood in your veins quickly shifting to something else. You're suddenly thankful that you picked a plant that didn't have the possibility of producing flowers, because they would be in full bloom. The close proximity of Ben to you made it impossible to think, not when you were inhaling his hypnotic scent with every breath, and not when his lips were only inches from yours.

Ben's mouth pulls up in a smirk as his emerald gaze locks with yours. He's so close that you can see the soft cinnamon colored freckles flecked across his cheeks and see the circle of gold in his eyes that seems to make your knees weak.

"Love doesn't have anything to do with it, doesn't have anything to do with what I want to do to you." He breathes, his voice dropping into the deep rumble that makes everything else vanish away. "And I'm not jealous of him doll. Anything that he can do to you, I can do better, longer, and harder. You just say the word, and you won't even remember him, let alone remember your own name."

You can't find the words to reply, the memory of Ben kissing you is everywhere, crackling along your skin, thrumming in your veins, and buried in your bones.

"Now come on. I want to look at bookshelves." Ben pulls back with a wide smirk, hearing your heart beat begin to kick up.

"Wait what?" Your voice sounds small when you find it.

"Your stack of books is annoying me."

"What do you mean? You mean the stack of books in my bedroom that you're never supposed to set foot in is annoying you?"

"Mhmm."

"I am perfectly capable of buying my own bookshelf thank you."

"Then why haven't you?"

"Because I had more important things to do-"

Like paying for electricity and buying cat food.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't have anything to do because all my drinking buddies died forty fucking years ago."

"You're not serious. You're not going to buy me a bookshelf." You say in shock.

Why in the fuck does he care about that? It's my room, he doesn't have to do that.

"Yes I am. That stack of books is ridiculous and pointless."

"That could be the name of my autobiography." You roll your eyes. It was a joke that Annie and you often used when you hung out together. Because what was the point of life without a little bit of self-deprecating humor?

Ben stops walking and turns around to look at you. "You might be ridiculous Petals, but you're not pointless. Don't you ever say anything like that around me ever again." He looks almost angry at the thought.

You inhale a sharp breath surprised. "Ben I wasn't being serious it's just a joke. Annie and I-"

"I don't care." He's still frowning at you. "I don't want you to make that kind of joke around me okay?"

You can't respond to that, only nod.

I have no idea what is going on.

All day Ben had been surprising you, hell, when he moved in a few days ago he surprised you. He was acting like he actually gave a shit, not just that he wanted to sleep with you, but that he genuinely wanted to be apart of your life, almost like a friend. You knew that maybe it was ridiculous to think that, but something deep down made you think it was true. That Ben really was making an effort to be better around you. But you had no idea why.

"So I'm going to buy a bookshelf no matter what you say, and you can either tell me which one to get or I'm gonna get you the ugliest son of a bitch here." Ben says smiling. "What will it be?"

You stand there looking at him, still mildly surprised, until you point at a dark brown wooden bookshelf with glass doors.

"Good. Now let's get the fuck out of here, before I grow a pussy."

A/N: Life changing trip to IKEA, because why not? Again more fluff and domestic Ben, NOT ASHAMED. But I will say that there will be a buildup to more angst and drama in a few chapters that will move the story along. I promise I have a plan for this one. And that plan includes dark and angsty things because we all know I can't seem to escape that. 😭

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[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

KINKTOBER (reuploaded)

Pegging (Matt)

Request: none but yall begged for me to bring it back lmao

Warnings: pegging obviously, sub!matt, best friends, bi reader, fingering(male), dual pleasure strap on, use of vibrator, slight edging, use of matty, mommy kink, whiny!matt, 0.2 seconds of matt sucking the strap, i think that’s all, lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: sorry this is a few days late, i’ve been super busy. tomorrow will be posted on time

Y/n’s pov

I was in the kitchen working on my MacBook when my best friend Matt came in and sat across from me. “Hey Matt.” I greeted him without looking up from my computer screen. “Um hi Y/n/n. Can I uh ask you like a really weird and personal question?” he asked. I was a bit confused but nonetheless nodded in agreement, “Sure I guess…” I said while clicking save and closed my laptop to give him my full attention. “I uh- I can’t ask you here, can we go to my room?” he stated nervously, only adding to my confusion.

We got into his room and Matt closed the door behind him, “So you know how you’re bi?” “Oh really, I am? I had no idea!” I replied sarcastically. “Not funny, but like you’re bi, obviously. I um, uh I-I know you have a strap-on…” he stuttered and trailed off. “If your question is why do I have it, I’m going to hit you for being dumb.” I joked, making Matt squirm uncomfortably, “Have you ever, you know, used it on a guy before?” he inquired nervously. “No… Why do you want to know about my sex life you weirdo?” I was suddenly getting a bit flustered because how the hell does Matt know I have a strap-on in the first place and why is he asking me about what I do with it?

“I- uh- I really like y-you and I have um- a fantasy involving you a-and I really want you to do it. Please don’t get mad.” he stated in a rushed tone, stuttering over a few words. I was beyond confused and a bit shocked, “That’s not how I expected this conversation to go. Um, okay, wow- what’s um… what’s this fantasy?” I asked curiously. Matt started to nervously pick at his nails and chew on his lip, avoiding eye contact with me as his cheeks turned pink. “Would you please dom me?” he asked, “And peg me…” he added, saying it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

“What!? Matt are you sure? It’s probably gonna hurt, I’ve-I’ve never done that before. I’ve only ever used it to fuck a girls pussy.” I replied flustered and just as nervous as Matt. He finally looked at me with pleading eyes, “Please? I have lube and I’ve fingered myself before. I’ll be a good boy and listen, I promise!” he begged me. Looking at his face, I reluctantly agreed “I uh- okay, we can try it. I’m just scared I’m going to hurt you.” I told him softly. “You won’t hurt me, it’ll just be uncomfortable at first. I really want this, I’ve thought about it since we were 17. Can we do it tonight? Chris and Nick are going over to a friend’s house.” Matt said quickly, clearly excited that I agreed.

“Sure I guess, but I’m gonna want foreplay beforehand. And I’m probably gonna want to kiss you, like a lot.” I laughed as Matt’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink again. He started looking down again nervously “Can I kiss you right now?” he asked softly, instead of answering I just tilted his head up and captured his lips in a short but sweet kiss. “Mhm, thank you.” he blurted out after, as I got up and made my way to the door. I sent him a wink before going to my own room where I pulled out my strap-on, which happened to be one for dual pleasure, meaning there was a vibrating dildo that went into me as well.

Even though it had already been cleaned after the last time I used it, I decided to clean it again anyway. I also decided I needed to ask Matt another question so I texted him to come to my room. I laid out a few sets of lingerie, that basically cover nothing, on my bed, but I wanted Matt to pick one anyway. “Um what did you need my help with?” he asked as he stepped into my room, closing the door. “I want you to pick which one you want me to wear tonight.” I said while pulling him over to my bed to look at what I had picked out. I stopped when I noticed Matt kept trying to cover his crotch with his hands, instantly knowing he was hard. “Are you hard right now Matty?” I teased, causing him to blush deeply.

“Only a little bit. I didn’t touch myself, I promise! I-I do have a vibrator in m-my ass though but it’s not on. I just wanted to edge myself so I could cum more later, ‘m sorry I didn’t a-ask.” he stuttered out, extremely flustered. “Do you have the remote?” I questioned as he was eyeing this one black set, which was mostly just straps. “Yes, and I want this one it’s really sexy.” he blurted out before blushing heavily. The one he picked out was a black leather bra and panties set with a grater belt, the bra was basically just an outline of one as it had nothing covering my tits. It did hold my them up nicely though, just like the panties, which were crotchless, and the garter made my ass look good.

“Can I have control of the vibrator until tonight? You think you can handle that without cumming?” I inquired, wanting to know how far I could take things with him. Matt dug into his pocket before pulling out the remote and handed it to me with an embarrassed smile. “I think I can as long as it’s not on 24/7.” he told me as he grabbed my hand and started nervously playing with the few rings I had on my fingers. “Can I ask you a serious question?” I asked Matt, resulting in him nodding. “I’m not judging you, I just want to know, but you don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. Why do you want to be pegged so badly and like having things up your ass? I don’t care if you are, but are you like gay or bi?” I questioned, causing him to drop my hand.

Matt’s face turned a bright red and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before speaking. “N-No, I’m not gay or bi, I don’t find men attractive. I was just young and experimenting one day and figured out how to stimulate my prostate. I wanna get pegged because I’ve seen it on pornhub and it looks really hot.” he said softly. “Plus you’re someone I trust and if I’m being honest, you’re really attractive and you domming me would be the hottest fucking thing in the world to me.” he added, blushing heavily. “Noted. Thanks Matty, that’s all I needed.” I smiled at him before Nick conveniently called for him. This was the perfect time to start teasing him with the vibrator.

After putting the other two lingerie sets away, I walked out to the kitchen, pretending to go back to working on my laptop. I watched as Matt sat down next to Nick on the couch, pulling the small remote out of my pocket I pressed the + button, turning it on to 1, making Matt’s breath hitch a little. He looked up at me with pleading eyes to stop as he was talking to Nick but I turned it up again to 3, making him squirm a bit. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” Nick asked, genuinely concerned.

Matt’s pov

I regret giving Y/n the remote to the vibrator now because I didn’t think she’d turn it on when I was talking to my fucking brother. I was fine when it was on level 1 but when she turned it up to 3 my brain went a bit foggy, I zoned out a little bit until Nick put his hand on my shoulder. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” he asked, I quickly came up with an excuse. “Yeah I’m fine, my head just hurts a bit.” I lied, looking at Y/n and silently asking her to turn it off, which luckily for me, she did. After talking to Nick, I walked over to her, “Please don’t turn it on when I’m talking to my brother!” I pleaded, but that just made her turn it up to 5 while smirking.

“But doesn’t it feel good Matty?” she asked, I let out a whimper and nodded before walking back to the living room. This went on for the next two hours or so until Nick and Chris left, my boxers were soaked with precum and my dick was so hard. I was laying on my bed and I swear I almost came in my pants when Y/n walked in. She was wearing the lingerie set I picked out along with the strap-on, which was black and matched the set perfectly. The strap-on was definitely smaller than my dick, maybe 5 or 6 inches max, but that was good because I don’t think I could take one that’s upwards of 7 inches.

I started squirming as Y/n stood above me, looking down at me and telling me to get undressed. She already had me take the vibrator out like 15 minutes ago, not that it really mattered. “You’re already being such a good boy for me Matty.” she praised, making me whine a bit as her eyes raked over my body. “I’m ready for you to dom me.” I confessed, causing her to stop staring at my body and smile at me. “Where’s your lube at?” she asked me but I just got it for her instead, “Thank you handsome, can you lay on the bed for me?” she asked sweetly, knowing I was a bit nervous to get pegged and have sex with her in general.

Y/n’s pov

I know Matt said he wanted me to dom him, but I could visibly tell he was anxious and nervous so I was trying to be as gentle as I could with him. “Matty, if it’s too much or it hurts too bad let me know and we’ll stop and cuddle okay?” I said while moving some hair out of his eyes. “I promise I’ll say something.” he replied, “What do you wanna start with first babe?” I asked him, wanting to do things his way. “I want to makeout with you.” he giggled, I hovered over Matt and we started kissing slowly at first, then we started full-on making out. I was sucking on Matt’s tongue and he was letting out the prettiest whiny moans as I ran my hands up and down his sides.

Experimentally, I started ghosting my hands across his nipples, loving the whimper it pulled from him. I pulled back for just a second, “Does that feel good baby?” I questioned while rubbing my thumbs over his nipples before rolling them between my thumb and index finger. “Yeah but please more!” he whined, not making too much sense, “Please what baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked as I kissed all over his chest. “Want you to just peg me already. I’m ready mommy.” Matt squirmed. His eyes opened widely when he realized what he just said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-“ he started before I cut him off with a kiss.

“Don’t be impatient baby, mommy will fuck you when she’s ready.” I said sternly as I moved towards his aching cock. I discreetly turned my vibrator onto 2, not high enough to make me cum but just enough to get me more wet. His cock was already covered and dripping with precum, “This really gets you worked up, doesn’t it?” I teased as I grabbed the lube. I squeezed some onto my fingers and circled his puckered hole before slowly slipping one in. “Two fingers please, I can take it.” he whined, I added a second finger and Matt was right, he could indeed take it.

I started scissoring his hole opened before adding some more lube and a third finger causing Matt to whimper. “Too much?” I asked, not wanting to hurt him, “N-No just so full.” he panted out in response. I fingered Matt for a few more minutes until he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “I-I think I’m ready mommy.” he said, looking up at me with those innocent blue eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked as I pulled my fingers out, wiping the rest of the lube off on my thigh. “Really sure, can- can I get it wet with my mouth and control your vibrator, please?” Matt asked nervously.

I handed him the remote and stood up, Matt quickly turned my toy up to 5 which caused me to squirm before he got on his knees. “You look good on your knees baby.” I complimented, making him blush heavily. “How do I um you know, suck dick?” Matt asked, his last two words barely above a whisper. “Well I’m not going to feel anything so you can just do whatever.” I explained, Matt nodded and started to suck on it lightly for a minute as I looked down at him.

He whined and stopped sucking, “I can’t wait, just use lube because I need it now!” he complained, desperately trying not to touch himself. “Okay, get back on the bed for me then.” I said while stroking the side of his face. Once Matt got back on the bed, I put some lube around his hole and onto the strap. “It might hurt baby, so tell me if you need to stop.” “Okay Y/n, please I need you so bad!” he whined. I placed the tip at Matt’s entrance and slowly pushed it in about half way.

Matt let out a choked sob as his hands tightly clenched the sheets and his face held a look of discomfort. “It’s okay Matty, you’re okay.” I soothed him, “P-Put the rest in.” he whimpered. I pushed in the rest of the way before stilling my movements again, not wanting to go too fast. Matt being the sneaky little shit he is, decided to turn my vibrator up to 7, I let out a loud moan as he did so. “Please move.” he groaned quietly, I started pumping at a slow pace as he started to groan a bit.

Even though I was feeling so much pleasure from the vibrator and I wanted nothing more than to start pounding into Matt, I stopped myself because I didn’t want to hurt him. “F-Faster mommy!” he loudly whined, I sped up my movements just a little bit, loving Matt’s whimpers and moans, “Feel good baby?” I panted out. “More! Need more!” he cried out, grabbing onto my shoulders, “Want me to go faster or harder?” I asked, wanting to clarify what he wanted.

“Both, please! Feels so goo—“ he cut himself off with an extremely loud moan as I started fucking into him rougher. “RIGHT THERE! FUCK MOMMY, D-DO THAT AGAIN!” he begged, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed to arch his back more. Even with all the pleasure Matt was experiencing, he was still thinking about me, he turned up my vibrator to 10 which caused me to also join in on his loud moaning.

“Right here Matty? Is that where it feels good?” I asked breathlessly, “Yes! Yes! Please touch my cock, please! Please!” he needily moaned. I started rubbing his cock in rhythm with my thrust as we were both getting closer to the edge. “A-Are you close mommy?” “Very close baby, I just want you to cum first.” I told Matt, speeding up all my movements. “Choke me! Choke me tightly so I can please cum!” he whimpered.

I used my left hand to choke him and a couple seconds later, Matt was painting both our stomachs white with copious amounts of cum, cause me to cum as well and pulled out a him. “M-Matt, vibrator!” I cried for him to turn it off as I was getting overstimulated, “Sorry, sorry.” he apologized out of breath and turned it off my vibrator as I collapsed next to him on my back as we caught our breath.

I took off the strap and I was honestly just going to put it on the floor because I was too tired to clean it right now but Matt took it from me. He licked all my cum off the vibrating side before he put it on the floor and scooped his cum off of me. Matt stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste himself and moaned when I moved to lick the rest of his cum off his body. “You were such a good boy Matty, you did so well.” I praised him as I kissed his neck, sucking a minimal amount of hickies into the skin.

“Thank you Y/n/n, felt so good.” Matt blushed as I stood up to go take another shower “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up real quick.” I said while helping Matt up. I grabbed my clothes and strap-on as well as a pair of socks, boxers and a tshirt for Matt before we went to my room to take a quick shower. When we got out and got dressed we looked at the time to see Nick and Chris would be home soon. As to not be sus, we sat in the living to watch a movie and Matt was now extra clingy.

I’m not complaining, I think it’s cute, I enjoyed it. Matt had his head on my shoulder and I had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. I was playing with his hair when Nick and Chris walked back in and thankfully neither of them said anything. They probably just chalked it up to Matt feeling anxious about something and I comforted him. Both boys simply just plopped down on the couch to watch the movie with us until we all called it a night, Matt ended up sleeping in my room.

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Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

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[skelswritingcorner]

POV: You got kidnapped by Decepticons, and you're also on your period

(If you're wondering if you saw this before, you probably did! Tumblr's just being wonky and didn't show it, so I'm reuploading it)

Cast (of the TF characters): Skywarp, Thundercracker, Shockwave, Megatron, Soundwave, Rumble, Frenzy, Jazz, Prowl, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Blaster, and a bit of Lazerbeak at the end

Synopsis: You’re on your period, and took a pretty strong painkiller before you went to class so you could focus without curling into fetal position from the pain. However, you didn’t think that you’d be kidnapped by alien robots. Luckily, you were using a cup. However, the painkiller is starting to wear off while you’re captive, and you’re hoping that you can be saved fast. Ideally, without these alien robots seeing you cough up endometrium.

A/N: I made the heights based more on G1 Transformers. I like the big bois, and g/t (mostly because I’m barely 5'2 but that’s irrelevant), but Rumble does not deserve to be 21 feet tall. He and Frenzy should be tiny menaces. Also, I think the size difference between the reader character and Blaster is more than enough. Also, this isn’t really for any specific Transformers continuity or series, more of my own headcanons if anything. Also, if you want to ask about the reader character, use the name Lorelei. Also, my endometriosis is not in my lungs, I just thought "Hey, do you know what would really fuckin suck?" and gave poor Lorelei endometrium in the lungs.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Menstruation, Endometriosis, Anatomical words for reproductive organs, Kidnapping, Vulgar Language, mentions of medical neglect.

You woke up dreading the day. According to the tracker, your period starts today, which is bad because the cramps get severe enough that you’d be bedridden if you didn’t have your painkillers, and also because you had class today. College life and all. At least today was Saturday, so it was only one three-hour class.

Going to the bathroom first, you checked your underwear for any signs of blood. There was only a bit of blood, but if you didn’t act quickly the bloodfall would begin. You grabbed one of your menstrual cups, folding it then pushing it in through your vulva. When it was in place, you used some toilet paper to wipe some of the discharge and blood off your fingers, flushed, then washed your hands.

You felt a cough coming up. Grabbing a tissue, you coughed into it. There was a bit of what looked like blood from where you coughed. If this was your first time, you would’ve panicked. However, you knew it was the stupid endometrium in your lungs because of your stupid endometriosis. Better pack some extra tissues, maybe buy some from the convenience store on your way to class.

Going into the shared space, you noticed a bag with a note. Must’ve been one of your roommates. The note had your name on it, so you decided to read it.

Y/N, I got you a snack. You mentioned in the group chat that your period starts today. I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat something with your painkillers, so I got you one of your favorite snacks just in case. Toodles! - Emily

It was chocolate covered pretzels. You took the bag, grabbed a beverage from the fridge and went back to your room to grab your medication before eating. It’s best to take it now, so your cramps don’t get so severe that you end up curled up in fetal position sobbing from pain once it fully starts.

After eating in the common room, you went back to change into your clothes. Fortunately, you didn’t share a room with anyone, so you could change in your room. You picked out an oversized black band tee and blood red sweatpants after putting on a tank top. If you weren’t on your period you would’ve picked something that looked a little cuter or fashionable, you don’t want to ruin those clothes if you need to cough up blood. You don’t know if hydrogen peroxide works that well with the materials.

Besides, most people that know you can easily predict whether or not you woke up feeling good based on how styled you look. If you’re wearing something more styled, with multiple layers and accessories, you’re likely in a more positive mood. If you’re not, either you’re on your period or doing something that requires some dirty work.

You packed your messenger bag with the things you needed: stationary, wallet, charger with power bank, tissues, a plastic zipper bag in case you can’t throw any bloodied tissues at the current moment, a small hammer, the tools that tech people carry, extra menstrual cup in a 3D-printed cube container that requires the opening to be twisted to get to it, a spray bottle of hydrogen peroxide, the usual things.

Luckily for you, all you had was a single class that only lasted two hours today. No rehearsals for the color guard, since the field is still wet from yesterday’s downpour. Maybe you’ll do some sketches after class.

Putting your shoes on, you left your dorm room and walked to your class. You made sure that your dormitory was close to the main campus, given your medical problems. Unlike yesterday, it was a gentle sprinkle of water, so you didn’t rush yourself. Class was in half an hour anyway.

Walking into the lecture hall, there was only one other person. You sat at a seat closest to the door, and turned to the other student. Like clockwork, you both got out your phones, pointed a finger at each other, and took a picture. Neither of you know each other's names, yet the bond is indescribable. Bonding through mutual goofiness without a single word exchanged. After that, a few more classmates came in, and once the clock hit noon the lecture began.

♢♢♢

After class ended, you packed up your things. Before you could get up, someone tapped on your shoulder.

Turning around, you saw one of your classmates with a furrowed brow. “Do you know about the recent sightings of alien robots?”

You shook your head, “I haven’t checked the news.”

“You haven’t heard anything?! They were spotted really close to campus two days ago. It looked like a bird, but obviously no birds nearby are that large! Be careful out there, hopefully nobody gets abducted.” She waved goodbye and sped out the room.

The alien robots are something you’ve heard about only in passing. Your roommates have mentioned them before, one of them took a picture that was so bad in quality you thought it was fake. Why are they going near a college, out of all places? There’s no local government facilities or anything that you think would interest them. Except for the telescope the astronomy majors use. They might be curious about that. It’s not related to your major though, so hopefully they won’t try taking you.

Walking out of the building, you decided to walk around a bit. It was nice, the sun wasn’t too harsh, the drizzle stopped, and there were basically no people around. Your painkiller should last a few more hours, so you have time to chill and walk slowly.

You couldn’t enjoy the scenery for long. You should’ve realized why you didn’t see anyone, not with that giant robot who almost crushed you, and is now looking down at you.

The creature was massive, quadruple your size at the very least. Black, purple, and annoyed.

“Who… are you?” you took a step back, ready to zoom away at any moment. They didn’t answer you, though, only grabbing you. Before you could react, you saw a bright purple light consume your vision, and you closed your eyes so your retinas wouldn’t burn.

♢♢♢

When the light was no longer visible, you were somewhere you didn’t recognize. The walls were metal, and there were more… people? Whatever they were, but they were looking at you. One looked identical to the one holding you, but almost entirely blue. An all-purple robot with a single yellow eye stared down at you, emotionless.

“I found one. I barely saw anyone at the location.” the one holding you said.

“Strange,” the blue one pondered, “shouldn’t there have been more of these squishies at that place?”

You wanted to retort so bad, but you also knew that the moment you start speaking you might cough. And honestly? What goes on in your body is none of their business. It’s Saturday, you thought to yourself, no shit there’s barely anyone there.

“Hey, tiny squishy!” the blue one put his face close to yours, “Tell us how we can access that telescope!”

You sighed in defeat. “I don’t know, I’ve never been to the building it’s in.” Well, that was a half-lie. You have been to the science building, just not the room the telescope was inside of.

“You WHAT?!” Oh, they’re annoyed.

At this point, you were pissed. You wanted to get away before the pain gets you, and you started getting snippy, “I dunno, maybe you should’ve asked before kidnapping me BECAUSE MY MAJOR DOES NOT INVOLVE THE FUCKING TELESCOPE! My major is in tech AND NOT ASTRONOMY!”

There is a cough coming up. Wriggling an arm out from the giant hand grasping you, you coughed into the crook of your elbow. Blood, as per usual during shark week. For you, that is.

“What is that red thing that came out of her intake?!” The blue one’s blood red eyes widened.

“Do we have anyone who knows how to fix organics?” the one holding you asked.

You yelled, “I’M FINE! This is normal for me, at least my painkillers are in effect!”

“Coughing internal liquids is abnormal for any being.” The purple one with the yellow eye spoke. “Thundercracker, inform Lord Megatron at once.”

The blue one ran out of the room. That one was Thundercracker, from what you could tell.

“Put them on the table, Skywarp. I’ll check their systems.” the one with the yellow eye ordered. The hand gripping you plopped you unceremoniously onto the table, leading you to cough yet again.

When you got up, you noticed the blood you coughed up on the table. Guess you gotta clean that. Opening your bag, you got out the hydrogen peroxide spray and a few tissues. It was a familiar procedure; spray the bloodied surface, and then clean it.

“What even is that?” Skywarp asked.

“Hydrogen peroxide. It’s used to clean blood off things, including clothing. I’d use a paper towel, but all I have are tissues.” you replied.

A hand held your face, opening your mouth and pressing your tongue down with their thumb. The one-eyed robot tilted your head up, and observed.

“No anomaly in the intake pipe. Finding the anomaly might require an invasive approach or scans.” they removed their hand from you.

Oh hell no. If this was an OBGYN, you’d be fine with it. However, you are not, and giant robots probing your lungs and uterus and just anywhere inside you is the last thing you want happening.

“Absolutely NOT!” you yelled, “I’m not letting you do that to me! Just bring me back to campus before my painkillers wear off!”

“I don’t think I’ll allow that.” Wait, who the fuck said that?

“Lord Megatron!” Skywarp turned around, bowing down at a gray figure. You could see the red glow of their eyes from where you stood.

“So, this is the one you found. She’s smaller than Soundwave’s cassettes.” Great. Just great. They’re calling you small. “She will do just fine, even if she’s not the one we hoped for.”

“How in Cybertron can this squishy help us if she’s never been to the building that the telescope is in?” Thundercracker asked.

“You. You’re a student of the university, correct?” Megatron asked, looking at you.

“Yes?” you replied, unsure of what the gray robot was going to ask you to do.

“Good, good. Then you should be able to get to it for us.”

Pardon?! “I’m one of the tech majors, if I just walk into the building and go to where the telescope is, the staff will find it suspicious!” you protested, “The only time I’ve even been in the science building is when I was being shown around campus, and we never went into the room that the telescope is inside of! If I’m to go in that room, I’m going to need to explain to the department head as to why I need to go in there.”

“Along with that,” you glared at Megatron, “I want to know exactly why you want access to the telescope.”

Skywarp huffed, “Why would we tell you about that?”

“Because y’all kidnapped me! If you want me to cooperate, you need a damn good explanation.”

“It’s rather simple. If you humans have access to such technology, wouldn’t we be curious about how it works? Such technology would be useful to our cause.” Megatron explained, and you hated the condescending tone he was using. It reminded you of the times you’ve been to the hospital, begging for an answer to all the pain and too-heavy bleeding only to be spoken down to like a toddler. Claiming that what you experienced was normal when it very much was not.

You sighed, “Fine. If you want my assistance, I will only help you if you follow a few basic rules. Do not damage any part of the school campus, try to abduct anyone else, or even think of trying to destroy the telescope. If you violate these rules, I will not help you any further. I will lecture all of you about your behavior without hesitation if you do that.”

“But what if the Autobots start the fight?”

“I’ll lecture them too. Don’t fucking try me.” You countered. It’s been a long time already, you can feel the pain creeping up to a painful level. After grabbing another tissue from your bag, you coughed up more blood.

You need to get back to your dorm soon, if the painkillers fully wear off you don’t know how you can escape.

“Now, I’d like to return to campus before my painkillers wear off. Can you please bring me back?” you tried your best to be polite, but right now you’re starting to get desperate. It must have been an hour at the very least, and you need to get back before you’re paralyzed by pain.

“Not so fast, young lady. We never got your name, and based on what Thundercracker said, I’d rather have you be under supervision.” Megatron turned to the purple robot, “Shockwave, bring her to your lab and prepare the scanners. I’ll leave her in your hands.”

Oh no. Oh no no no no NO. That’s the last thing you want happening.

♢♢♢

A group of Autobots were on the campus, talking to various humans.

“I was looking outside the window during lab. This purple and black robot picked someone up, turned into a purple light and just… disappeared with them!” a tall brunet said, gesturing to the spot the abduction happened.

Prowl frowned. He knew it was Skywarp, no other Decepticon had that ability. He’ll have to inform Optimus Prime once he finished speaking to who he was speaking to.

“Do you know the student who was kidnapped?” Optimus Prime asked the young blonde-haired woman standing in front of him.

“Yes. Y/N L/N is my roommate. I know that today she’s starting her cycle, which for her is incredibly painful. She needs to take pretty intense painkillers so she can function during this. I didn’t see her before I left for work, but I made sure to get her a snack so that she could eat something when she got up before I left.”

“What is that cycle? Is this something that organic life experiences?” He asked.

She tapped on her phone for a bit before looking back up at the Autobot leader, “All animals with a uterus and ovaries have an ovarian cycle, in order to prepare for a potential pregnancy,” she showed the diagram on her phone’s screen, “the uterus creates a lining, which sheds if a pregnancy doesn’t happen in a period called menstruation, or just a period, for humans. This lining is called endometrium. This lining, however, can end up outside the uterus, and in rare cases can go all the way up to the brain. This is called endometriosis, and is what Y/N has and what causes her the intense pain.”

“For her, there is endometrium in her lungs. She coughs it out during her period sometimes.”

Ratchet approached the two. “You mention that, and earlier the painkiller she takes. How long ago was that?”

The woman checked the time, “About five hours ago, based on the time she usually wakes up on this day of the week.”

“And when does it wear off?”

She paused. “After six hours, she’s back to regular unmedicated pain.”

Optimus got up. “Thank you, Miss Emily. We will find her as soon as we can.”

“Can I come with you? I don’t know how willing Y/N is going to be while she’s in pain around strangers.” Emily asked, “I’ll do my best to stay out of danger, and keep close.”

Ratchet grimaced, “It’s going to be dangerous. I doubt we have any weapons that you can use, if you can even hold them.”

“I understand your sentiment, old friend. However, she has a point. I doubt that Y/N will be pleased to have more Cybertronians trying to take her. Especially if she’s in terrible pain.”

Sighing in defeat, Ratchet turned to Emily, “Fine. We’ll bring her along.”

♢♢♢

Before you could protest, Shockwave grabbed you and started walking away. You thrashed in his hand, trying to wriggle out to run away and hide. Your efforts, however, bore no fruit, and only made Shockwave hold you tighter.

He put you in some kind of container, too tall for you to climb out.

“Soundwave, can you come to my lab with Rumble and Frenzy? Lord Megatron requested me to do scans of the human Skywarp found. She’s being difficult, I need those two to restrain her so I can do the scans without her attempting an escape.”

“Understood.” a voice was heard, likely coming from Shockwave.

After some time, a cobalt blue figure walked into the lab. They were the same size as Shockwave. Two significantly smaller figures followed them in tow; one purple, one black.

“So,” the blue one looked at you, “this is the human?”

“Yes.” Shockwave replied, grabbing you and putting you on some kind of table. They removed your bag, so you couldn’t grab a hammer and thwack anyone even if you tried.

“Rumble, Frenzy, restrain the human so we can do the scans.” The blue one ordered. The small figures jumped onto the table, grabbing your limbs and pushing them into the table. Honestly? That’s pretty painful. You tried to fight, kick, anything, but their grip was unrelenting.

“Stop wiggling, fleshy!” one of them tightened their grip.

Some kind of scanner descended to your chest, stopping a few centimeters above you. It whirred to life, and a red light shone onto your chest. It shifted around, scanning from your chest to your pelvis. After a few minutes, the light turned off.

“Peculiar.” Shockwave stated.

“Is this what human internals look like? How strange.” The cobalt one tilted their head, then looked at you.

“Rumble, Frenzy, release.” They ordered, and the two robots holding you by the limbs released you. However, you couldn’t run, as Shockwave grabbed you. The change from laying down to being vertical made you feel the menstrual blood leak out of your cervix, sending shivers down your spine.

“Do you even know what you’re trying to look for? There’s nothing that you can base it on!” you yelled.

“Intuition.” Shockwave rebutted, putting you back in the container. Jarred once again.

The pain creeps up once more. The whole restraining debacle distracted you for some time, but now you realized that the medication is almost out. In a few minutes, you’ll be in fetal position from the pain. Even breathing is a struggle.

Alarms.

“Autobots infiltrated the base, I repeat, Autobots have infiltrated the base.” the announcement rang.

Shockwave and the others left, leaving you alone. This was your chance. Opening up your bag, you grabbed a hammer. Can you even break the glass? Might as well find out.

Walking to one of the corners, you slammed the hammer. A crack formed, and you continued to slam and slam and slam until a large enough opening was made. You walked out of it after putting your hammer away. After going to the side opposite the hole, you dropped and rolled onto the floor. It was time to run and find a small enough place to hide.

You ran out of the lab, zooming through the halls to find somewhere small. Somewhere you could fit and they could not. After a few minutes of running, you found a small slit in the wall that you could just barely squeeze into, so you went in it. It took some time, and your chest especially was squashed, but the slit went to a tiny area, where the slit was the only exit. Curling up into a corner, you waited. The slit is too short for the two who restrained you to fit anyway.

You heard fighting and yelling approaching you. From where you were, they couldn’t see you. After a bit of time, it quieted down.

Voices.

“We haven’t seen the missing person at all. Where could she be, Prowl?” one asked.

“Who knows? Y/N might be trapped somewhere.”

They know your name. Why do they know your name? You didn’t tell any of them your name.

Unless… they’re a rescue party? Moving was a struggle for you, the pain was getting too much. You doubt you could speak right now either.

“Wait. That tear in the wall. Could she be in there?” the voice pondered, getting closer to where you were.

“I’m checkin’ it. Emily’s with Blaster ‘n’ Wheeljack, right? If Y/N’s here, contact them.”

They know Emily? Your roommate? Well, that complicates things.

A large black finger entered the slit, widening it just a tiny bit. “Hey! Are you in there?” they asked. All you could do is whimper in reply.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here!” they promised.

“Jazz, I contacted them. They should arrive in a moment.”

More footsteps.

“We’re here!” a familiar voice trilled. They are indeed talking about that Emily, the one who is your roommate. Both of you are enrolled in the university’s STEM program, so you have a few classes together. You’re both part of the color guard as well, which is pretty well known for the futuristic masks that the marching band wears as well.

“Do you think you can fit through that? I mean, Jazz, he made it bigger, but it still looks small.” An unfamiliar voice asked.

“If Y/N can fit it, I can.” Emily said, and you heard her step in through the slit.

“That bad?” Emily asked. You turned to her and gave her the stink eye.

“Hey! STEM girlies gotta stick together, y’know? Stop giving me that look.” Emily retorted.

She took out your painkillers from her bag. “I hope yain’t mad about me yoinking your painkillers, I knew that by the time you were found the meds would’ve fully worn off and you’d need to take them again. Here,” she gave you the bottle. You did your best to remove the lid, took one, and swallowed it dry. Ideally, you would’ve had something to drink since it tastes absolutely horrible, but eh.

You put your painkiller bottle in your bag. Emily grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up to your feet, “C’mon, up at it. Let’s get back.” Both of you walked toward the slit, and left the hiding spot.

There were four of the alien robots. They all had blue eyes, unlike the ones who abducted you.

“Prime, we got ‘er!” The one with a blue visor and black hands said. “We’re gonna get ‘em back now.”

“I’ll hold them.” A red robot said.

Emily introduced them, “The red one’s Blaster, the one with the two trapezoids where his ears should be is Wheeljack, the cop car lookin’ guy with the red eyebrows is Prowl, and the one with the visor is Jazz. They’re all good dudes, even if Prowl’s grumpier than my pawpaw.”

“Don’t call me old.” Prowl growled.

“How old are you again? You’re a peepaw in my eyes.” you could hear Emily’s smirk, it made you chuckle.

“At least she sounds better!” Jazz jokes, “At Prowl’s expense, that is.”

“Shockwave’s lab is nearby. I’ll catch up to all of you later, I think there’s something there that might be useful.” Wheeljack stated.

“Alright. Don’t get killed, Wheeljack.” Prowl ordered, and Wheeljack ran to the lab you escaped from.

Blaster brought a hand to you and Emily, “Well? Hop on, I won’t bite.” Emily brought you to his hand, and he brought you to one of his shoulders and put Emily on the one opposite you.

“Let’s go.” And so, the five of you left. You gripped onto one of Blaster’s neck cables, mostly for reassurance on your part. The bouncing of Blaster zooming made you bounce a little bit, but you knew he was trying not to make you two bounce too much.

♢♢♢

After you got on the small ship, you were met with a few other of the Autobots. The tallest of them was red and blue, with windows on his chest. Next to him was a mostly white with orangish red accents.

“Good, you found her.” The blue one said, smiling.

“Optimus, should I look at her? They might’ve injured her.” The red and white one asked. You coughed into your elbow again, and let go of Blaster’s neck cable.

“Y/N’s not injured from what I can tell, Ratchet. I was able to give her the painkiller.” Emily told the Autobot.

“Which tastes AWFUL.” you added.

“Right. I forgor, sowwy.” and now Emily is UwUing. Great. That’s usually reserved for when color guard practice happens, or when she pops into the band room to bring you and the other brass members some cursed snack that the store she works at sells. Usually with some kind of beverage for you. Emily may be cursed, but she’s an awesome friend and roommate. You remember the time she recorded you and several other brass members doing a reenactment of I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys. She’s a champ when she wants to be.

“Well, since you coughed up some endometrium, I’m going to take a little sample.” Ratchet grabbed some kind of scalpel, grasping your arm and using it to scrape some of that sweet sweet lung endometrium.

“I’ll ask Perceptor to look at it.” Ratchet walked away.

“Where’s Wheeljack?” Optimus asked.

“Went to look in Shockwave’s lab, I think he should be here around…”

The doors opened, and footsteps ran inside and the door closed.

“Now.” Prowl finished.

“Wheeljack, what did you find?” Optimus asked, with everyone turning to the Autobot.

“Well, there was a clear container that was broken in the corner. Guess that’s where Y/N was put. Along with that,” he showed a hologram, likely the result of the scans, “I noticed this on the screen.”

Optimus approached, looking at it. “Show this to Ratchet once he gets back.”

“We should bring these two back. I’ll inform the authorities that Y/N was found, and has sustained no injuries.” Optimus ordered.

“Jazz, navigate the ship to the university.” Optimus ordered, letting Jazz leave to the cockpit.

After a few more orders, and Blaster placing you and Emily down on the floor, the both of you were left with Prowl.

“Miss L/N, I have a question for you.”

“What’s the question?” you asked.

“Is there any way to reduce the pain, or how long it lasts without your medication?” Prowl asked.

You’d answer, but that involves telling Prowl about sex. And, to be perfectly honest, fucking anyone you barely know is a turn-off to you, especially a giant alien robot that is literally thrice your size. You do not feel fuckable right now, try again later when you’re not bleeding from the cervix and lungs my dude. Do they even have penises? Well, they could use their fingers… No, don’t be horny, Y/N. Are you still ovulating? That likely explains the fact that you actually considered explaining sex and possibly… let’s stop that thought.

“Well, heat can help a little bit.” Good save, Emily. Good save. “It all depends on the person, though.”

“Also, Jazz and Blaster wanted me to ask you this, but what is this… trombone suicide thing Emily mentioned?” Ah. Emily snitched to Prowl.

“It’s a very complex move involving multiple brass instruments, usually trumpets or trombones. If you turn the wrong way, you’ll either bonk trombones or smack your fellow brassist in the face. There’s also the trumpet suicide, sousaphone suicide, and I’m trying to figure out how to do it for the color guard. Also, you’re playing the instrument while doing this.” you explained.

Prowl sighed, most likely in relief, “It isn’t literal, at the very least. That’s a relief.”

After a few more questions, and fortunately sex did not come up during that time, Optimus came back.

“We’ve arrived, let’s get these two back.” Optimus announced.

Walking with him and Prowl, you got tackled by one of your band mates. A good chunk of the brass section and color guard were there.

“Glad you’re back, Y/N!” the one who tackled you said, helping you get up.

After some time, and a little bit of discussion, you and Emily left to go back to the dorm with the others. The sun was setting, and the events of today left you tired and having menstrual munchies. Hopefully you won’t have to deal with the alien robots again.

A mechanical bird observed from a lamppost, watching the two figures enter the building. Even though the Decepticons failed to keep the student from the Autobots, there was still an opportunity to use her. Once they were fully gone, the black and red robot flew away.

[cryptidorchid]

Writing out my thoughts on Pearl and Scott’s relationship in the Life Series (with more focus on Scott cause I haven’t watched all of Pearl’s episodes)

Scott feels like Pearl being hurt isn’t his problem

Something that sets Scott’s relationship with Pearl apart from the other teammates he had around the same time is that Scott is never protective of Pearl. He was protective of Jimmy when he turned red in Third Life and he was protective of Cleo in Double Life basically the whole way through. But with Pearl, he doesn’t seem that concerned for her. This is a result of the way their partnership started.

In Last Life, Scott started with two lives and Pearl started with six. Scott was uncomfortable being so close to red so he specifically went looking for someone to obtain a life from. Scott found Pearl and agreed to team with her in exchange for a life. The deal went well. Scott got a life. Cool.

The problems started in episode 2 when Joel was the Boogeyman. After trapping them in their house, Joel started attacking Pearl and Scott ran in to save her and was killed instead.

Afterwards, Scott was back on yellow and Pearl still has 5 lives so he asked Pearl for another life, an ask he was clearly uncomfortable with. Pearl is hesitant at first but agrees to give him another one.

It works out but I think this is the moment that really convinced Scott that Pearl doesn’t need protecting; she has way more lives than him and is decent at survival besides. And even if she does need protecting, he definitely shouldn’t be protecting her when he could be protecting himself. And I think this mentality really shows in the episode that follows this one.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 3 - 15:06-15:14 Scar: You give me that or I’m going to burn you Scott: He does have a right to burn- PEARL! Pearl runs away with the cactus Scott: I take no responsibility for her. She’s a loose cannon. Scar approaches a dog with a flint and steel Scott: That is her dog Pearl: NOOO!

Scott realizes Pearl’s making enemies with Scar and when Scar starts threatening her over it, Scott instantly takes Scar’s side and distances himself from Pearl (“I take no responsibility for her”). In order to keep himself safe, he is actively choosing to help Scar instead of protecting her. To be fair this is a rather low stakes situation where if Pearl actually ends up in danger, she can just give the cactus back, but a less low stakes situation is when Lizzie Boogey kills Pearl.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 3 - 24:20-24:25 After Lizzie Boogey kills Pearl Lizzie: It was gonna be either of you. I didn’t care which one of you died. One of you just had to die. Scott: To be fair, Pearl had more lives than me so it worked out better that way

It’s not like Scott is particularly understanding towards Boogeymen. When Joel killed him last episode, he was not this calm about it and told Pearl to kill Joel in revenge. But in this case, he just grabbed Pearl’s stuff and said he was glad it wasn’t him.

On top of that, it gets even more obvious that he’s not that bothered by the idea of Pearl dying when you compare the way he treats Pearl to the way he treats Cleo.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 6:45-6:58 After Scott says he won’t Boogey kill Pearl or Cleo Cleo: I couldn't take the trauma again Scott: Yeah, I wouldn’t do it to you Cleo. If anyone, I’d go for Pearl because she has more lives and it wouldn’t be as hard to deal with. Pearl, if I don’t kill anyone between now and the end, I may need to out of desperation

It's pretty clear that this is a result of Pearl having more lives than both him and Cleo and Cleo having joined their team specifically as a result of being betrayed. But all the same, Pearl dying is acceptable to him in a way that Cleo dying isn’t. Which I think also shows in episode 8.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 8 - 36:10-36:30 Scott: I witnessed you run out of the forest with Joel chasing you. By the time I got down to the bottom of the tower, you’d died, and I was so upset, Cleo Cleo: It's okay  Pearl: You’re witnessing a lot of death, Scott, and you haven't been there to save our lives  Scott: I also haven't been your cause of death, Pearl, to be fair.  Scott pulls out a potion of harming Scott: All it takes is two of these apparently. It could be quick and clean.

The difference in treatment is incredibly obvious. He feels bad about not saving Cleo. He thinks Pearl should be grateful he didn’t kill her himself. Granted, there is a world where Scott is upset here not because he failed to save Cleo but because he failed to kill her to cure himself of the Boogeyman curse. I’m going to talk about why I don’t think that’s the case soon.

Regardless of his intentions with Cleo, him responding to Pearl by reminding her that he could be killing her instead does indicate that he’s annoyed by the idea that he should be protecting Pearl.

Tangent about why I think Scott was more concerned about Cleo’s wellbeing than his own in this moment: 

Right before Cleo died, Scott was aiming at Joel who was in the forest, rather than Cleo who was out in the open.

 In order to get Cleo's stuff out of the river as quickly as possible, he took the worst possible path down from the tower.  He took 9.5 hearts from fall damage. Even with regen he had 3 hearts by the time he got down there. Even if he was in a rush in case Joel tried to steal Cleo’s stuff, it’d be even worse if a red name was down there while he had 3 hearts total. 

Even after acknowledging that Cleo died because Joel caught her on her own, he goes out on his own in the middle of the night because he’s worried Cleo might be trapped in their secret base.

He runs into Grian and Joel on the way and as he’s fleeing, he yells “Why did you kill Cleo?”

In general, I think this entire sequence shows a lack of self-preservation on Scott’s part and implies he was acting emotionally rather than strategically. If he was really just concerned about himself, this feels like an odd way of going about it.

This isn’t to say that Scott doesn’t care about Pearl’s wellbeing at all. When he’s going to look for Cleo, he asks Ren to protect Pearl since Pearl was looking after Cleo’s stuff which was outside the safety of the wall. He didn’t need to ask Ren to do that but he did because he cares about Pearl. I don’t want to give the impression that they have no sweet and caring moments together. They do. It’s just not important to this analysis so I’m not going into detail.

TLDR; Scott never puts Pearl’s wellbeing over his own which is in contrast to the way he treats Cleo, his other teammate during Last Life. As much as he’d prefer Pearl to be well, if she’s not, he doesn’t feel like it’s his fault or his responsibility to fix.

This leads me into Double Life.

Scott never regretted rejecting Pearl

I don’t think Scott ever really hated Pearl. He was mad at her for not looking for her soulmate and going to the Nether. So he thought not teaming with her would be an appropriate punishment and would be better for him since he would be teaming with someone he feels is committed to him.

In spite of this, he still suggests there’s a possibility of reconciliation in both episodes 2 and 3.

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 2 - 21:54-22:04 Scott: Me and Cleo had already bonded. We spent the entire day running on the server meeting everyone else and you never showed up.  Pearl: You can bond still with more people. It's fine. Scott: It's going to take time, Pearl

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 3 - 26:02-26:08 Scott: Pearl, you come back after I’m done with these two and we can then go over our issues. How about that?

Him saying this implies to me that Scott never really meant to be angry at Pearl forever. So why did he break up with her in the first place? Well, he didn’t really expect her to take it as hard as she did.

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 2 - 22:55-23:00 Pearl: I wasn't trying to be your soulbound, Scott. I never wanted to be your soulbound Scott: Then, why are you making a big deal about it?

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 2 - 23:32-23:43 Scott: Maybe you have gone a little loopy irl! Like, do you want me to call someone in person?  Pearl: Look, Scott, you've done me some damage, alright? Scott: Apparently!

Even though she was struggling more than he expected and he’s not necessarily happy about that, this doesn’t convince him to change his mind though because again, he doesn’t feel like it’s his responsibility to protect Pearl’s wellbeing, especially not over his own. To him, Pearl being heartbroken over it, though unfortunate, doesn't make his actions wrong. On top of that, Pearl actively harming him through powdered snow and being liable to cause problems in his relationship with Cleo also wasn’t helping him sympathize with her. 

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 3 - 19:20-19:44 Pearl: So, what you’re saying. Right now. Is that I should kill Cleo one more time and then you won’t be… even soulmates at that point Scott: See, you’re not red. You’re not allowed to do that Pearl: What do you mean? As far as I’m concerned I’m red as can be, Scott. Scott: As far as your sanity, yes. Gone! Gone. Far gone Pearl: And whose fault is that, Scott?! Scott: It’s not my fault you have separation issues! Pearl: Of course, I have separation issues! Everyone abandoned me! Of course, I have issues, Scott! Scott compliments Pearl’s build Pearl: Oh thank you. Someone’s being nice to me today Scott: I can be nice to you when you’re not being unhinged. If you’re less unhinged, people will be nice to you!

Pearl presents a threat to Scott and to his relationship with Cleo, if not Cleo herself yet. As long as that’s true, he will never feel bad enough to take her back. The only reason he teamed with her later was because the threat of red names outweighed the threat of Pearl. As much as he doesn’t enjoy being enemies with Pearl past the initial anger at her, he sees the situation as unfortunate but not really his responsibility to fix, especially if Pearl isn’t going to change. 

And I don’t really think Scott ever changed his mind on this.

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 14:52-15:21 Pearl: You know what, Scott. It might’ve been hard to forgive you at the start of the season for just abandoning me like that but you know what, you’re pretty good. You’re a pretty good partner Scott: Thank you- I mean, we tested it last time and it worked well. It was just you hurt my feelings when you went away with Martyn and me and Cleo looked for you- Pearl: Hey! Scott: -for ages and then I couldn’t find you and I was sad Pearl: You know, I’m just gonna talk this out for a second. How about reverse, right? You ran off with Cleo from my perspective Scott: We bumped into everyone else. We were actively looking for our soulmates Pearl: I was looking!

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 14:52-15:21 Pearl: Look, it's my time to ditch you after the first episode. Think of it as karma. Scott: So, we've done a full loop because you ditched me in the first episode then you came back and then you're going to ditch me again Pearl: You ditched me in the first episode. Don't you pretend to play it like that was never your fault  Scott: You didn't make yourself available, Pearl. How was I meant to find you if you were never available!

Whenever Pearl brought it up, he was incredibly clear that he felt the break up was Pearl’s fault. I know some people like to see the sacrifice as Scott apologizing for breaking up with her but everything he says before that actively contradicts that read. I personally believe that when he said that Pearl deserves the win, he was talking about Pearl taking out four other competitors basically on her own. You might think that his reasoning for sacrificing himself in the finale should have been stronger/more emotional, but well… it’s Scott. And he does genuinely care about Pearl to an extent. This read may be less satisfying to some people but I do feel it’s more accurate to his character.

TLDR; Scott always felt that rejecting Pearl was justified. He still cares about her but he doesn’t feel that her taking the rejection harder than expected is his responsibility especially since he considers her a threat to his well being. 

Pearl never forgave Scott for rejecting her

I know that Pearl explicitly said she forgave him in the finale but her behavior in later seasons and the fact that this was the second time she’s supposedly “forgiven him” really make me doubt that.

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 6 - 40:20-40:22 Pearl: I guess I forgive you after all

First of all, this is the second time she’s said she’s forgiven him and yet the way she phrases this makes it sound like it’s the first time, meaning she took back the original forgiveness. Why?

Well, last time she tried to tell Scott she forgave him, Scott reminded her that he doesn’t feel bad about rejecting her. Which I suspect is what convinced her to rescind that forgiveness. I think that her forgiveness was intended less as expressing genuine forgiveness but a way of trying to validate her own pain.

The entirety of Double Life, Pearl has been trying to hurt Scott. She complains about not having friends but this isn’t making her any friends and she’s reluctant to be friends with Scott so what’s the goal? Well, I think she just wants Scott to regret rejecting her. 

Double Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 2 - 2:48-3:02 Pearl: I'm not gonna be as careful. You know what? It's okay. I'm not gonna be as careful. I'm gonna do my own self and Scott can do what Scott wanna do, you know? This is me now. This is Pearl now. You've done this, Scott.

She’s monologuing to a Scott that’s not there because this is what she wants him to think. She wants him to think “Oh, I’ve made a terrible mistake!” 

That’s why she’s telling him she forgives him later. Because her forgiving him implies that he was in the wrong. Which was instantly ruined by Scott reminding her that he was mad at her. So she revoked that forgiveness because it wasn’t accomplishing what she wanted.

And maybe, in the finale, Pearl did interpret Scott’s sacrifice as an apology or maybe she just wanted to say it again now that Scott wasn’t alive to contradict her. Either way, I think since Scott doesn’t regret his actions that forgiveness is inherently fragile and Pearl has proven that she’s willing to revoke that forgiveness. Her behavior in later seasons proves that.

Limited Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 5 - 25:00-25:06 Tango: BigB. Pearl, you guys are in with the TIES. Absolutely  Pearl: Alright, we don't have to make up with Scott now, BigB

Limited Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 5 - 26:21-26:34 Pearl: We got TIES now, you see, and now we don't need to ally with Scott. We don't need allies with the Clockers. We're good BigB: Now, I don't know if we need to make it up at all with the Coral Kid. But-  Pearl: Nah, we're good. We don’t need them.

Okay. Pearl. You know there was another member of Mean Gills right? He may have chased you earlier? Name starts with an M?

Secret Life - Pearl’s POV - Episode 9 - 48:08-48:18 Pearl: It's you and me, Scott. We gotta finish what we started from Double Life. We got something to finish up. I'm gonna murder you~

She’s clearly not over Double Life.

TLDR; Pearl's already revoked her forgiveness once and her actions after Double Life imply that she still holds a grudge against Scott. So it seems unlikely that her forgiveness at the end of Double Life was genuine.

Conclusion

It’s hard to say that Scott and Pearl hate each other because most of the time, they act quite friendly and closer with each other than with most of the other Lifers. But they never really resolved the conflict from Double Life. They neither changed their mind nor really sympathized with the other person’s point of view. As a result, there’s always some resentment under the surface. This goes for both of them by the way. Pearl may switch to spiteful at random but Scott can go cold and lose all affection for her at the drop of a hat. And now they’ve got this on-again off-again frenemies type relationship. They’re probably going to be friends again next season and decide they hate each other by the end again too.

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun. 

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day. 

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you. 

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain. 

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?” 

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are. 

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp. 

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher. 

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek. 

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face. 

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it? 

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?” 

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.” 

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay. 

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you. 

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response. 

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening. 

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence. 

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day. 

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you. 

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying. 

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin. 

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges. 

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time. 

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back. 

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough. 

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound. 

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns. 

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements. 

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command. 

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight. 

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep. 

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down. 

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable. 

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.6 (ellie’s journals)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: a significantly different writing voice! this is going to be a very different vibe from the other chapters since i had to write it as i imagine ellie would (which is a lot different than i do). slight nsfw content (mdni), language, mentions of violence/gore, angst, ellie’s pov is actually really depressing

a/n: soooo i know it’s been almost 3 months...and i’m really sorry about that! a lot of stuff happened in my life and i kind of fell off writing for quite some time. but i finish series, so i’m going to get through exoplanet in its entirety so i can finally give you all closure. some preliminary notes: know that these are modeled after how i imagine ellie would journal if she did journal this much. canonically she didn’t do that much writing that follows a narrative like it does here. i think it’s honestly a little ooc for her to be emotionally responsible enough to talk out her feelings, but given that there’s no other way to tell her side of the story (save for legit rewriting it from her perspective, which would take another 6 months or so and be horrifically repetitive), i decided to just suck it up and write it. i’m sorry if it sounds awkward, since she definitely doesn’t write in a voice that i have much experience with. the next chapter will be better!

word count: 5.5k

tags~ @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl​ @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28

(i haven’t updated this yet bc my tags aren’t working)

a special special SPECIAL thanks to both @roarriita and @elliesflower​ for being soooo sexy and betaing for me. you both are so wonderful and helped me sm in feeling good enough to post this :)

without further ado, enjoy ellie’s journals!

January 20th, 2038

Today’s been…fucking…

I don’t even know where to start. I don’t get why this sort of shit always happens to me. First it was being bit and somehow surviving. Then it was getting carted off across the country. And now some girl basically falls out of the sky, claiming that she comes from some sort of paradise up North?

I’ll spare the immediate details. I don’t think I’ll forget the basic stuff—her name, the way she looked clutching at her knees in the clearing and shaking. That stupid shirt she had on and that expensive scarf.

I still want to believe that she’s just a liar who happened to get lucky with running into us, but even without Joel vouching for her story, I don’t think I’d ever be able to buy that she’d been living in the same world as us. I’ve never met someone without scars before. I didn’t know that there were people out there who didn’t have marked up arms and faces. Or people without calluses. Did you know that hands can be totally smooth?

Anyway. Tommy says that he’ll try and reach out across the contacts he has. Joel has her living right down the hall from me in the meantime, so now I have to share my bathroom. Hopefully the Terranovan authorities are good at finding people. She takes so fucking long to shower. It’s a wonder the whole compound still has hot water.

[One page of drawings follows: Dina smiling in the snow on her horse, Joel playing his guitar]

January 25th, 2038

Maria says that they’re thinking about breeding Shimmer soon. I know she told me because that means I’ll need to ride another horse for a little until she recovers and I know that we need another generation of foals, but it still made me cringe for Shimmer’s sake. She’s too free-spirited to be a mother. She doesn’t deserve that.

I went stargazing last night. It was pretty. Lots of shooting stars. I ran into the girl while I was coming back from the meadow. She gave me a weird look, and I could tell she wanted to ask me where I’d been but kept her mouth shut. Sometimes I regret dropping off that bag of clothes. I really fucking liked that gray sweatshirt, actually. I’m not even joking. It looks weird to see it on someone else.

[Half a page of drawing follows of the night sky with labeled constellations]

February 5th, 2038

Long time no see. I’ve been pretty busy with patrols and helping Maria with securing the walls. Joel made me try some of that coffee that our new house guest brought. It was just as awful as I remembered, but he seemed happy. So one point for the space girl. I guess.

Dina’s been hanging around more. She just broke up with Jessie (yes, again). She swears that it’s for good this time, but I’m not so sure. She also talks a lot about Y/N and what little detail she’s gathered about her life back in Terranova. I thought teasing her by asking her if she had a crush on Y/N would make her talk less about it, but it just made things worse.

I miss when things were normal.

[One page of drawings follows: one of Shimmer in cross-ties, another of a girl’s face, half-finished with the face scribbled out]

February 12th, 2038

Today I’m sad. I’m in bed with that book about astronomy that Joel nabbed for me on patrol a while ago and there’s a section I wanted to read that’s completely waterlogged. It shouldn't be a surprise. It’s decades old and has survived through an apocalypse. Normally things like this don’t bug me much because I’m so used to it. Half of my Savage Starlight collection is damaged. I don’t think I’ll ever find the first book to actually complete the series, and that’s okay, because I’ve never expected anything more. But now that I know that there’s a world out there where I’d never have problems like this, stuff like this hurts. It’s so stupid. I’m lucky to be alive. Compared to what’s left of the world population, I live a much cushier life than most. But for the first time in a while, I’m wishing for more.  

“Greed is the enemy of happiness” is what Maria would say if I ever said this kind of shit out loud. But is it really? Or is it just realizing what life can be?

[Half a page of a drawing of the solar system, with each planet labeled]

February 22nd, 2038

Maria let me pick the sire for Shimmer’s foal. It felt kind of gross, to be honest. I asked Maria if there was any way for Shimmer to choose and I was only sort of joking, but she just laughed anyway and patted my back. I won’t have to worry about finding a new horse for another two seasons or so, she told me. It’ll be weird not having her for a little.

She also told me that there was still no word from anyone who knew anything about Terranova. She said this to me in this placating voice, like she thought that I was going to punch a hole in the wall or something after hearing it. That seems to be common when it comes to people talking about Y/N and me. I don’t know why so many people think I don’t like her staying with us.

I don’t, by the way. Let me be clear. But I mostly feel indifferent about her now. She doesn’t bother me as much anymore, not since she started getting out of the house. I think she might be helping in the gardens, but I’ve never actually asked. We don’t talk a whole ton. I don’t think she likes me all that much.

[A drawing of Shimmer’s head poking over her stall door that takes up one page]

March 2nd, 2038

Today was finally our first nice day of the year. I would’ve enjoyed it more if the bird that lives in the tree outside my window hadn’t blown me out of bed at 4 in the fucking morning. I’m exhausted now. It’s been a long day. Joel says I need to take Y/N out on patrol soon. Why, I have no idea. Maybe he just wants me to actually befriend her or something, and I do nothing but patrols now. He can’t possibly expect her to be a good patrol partner.

Thankfully, I checked the logs when I came back. The route he wants me to cover with her has been the quietest all season. I doubt we’ll run into anything. If we do, I’ll probably be able to handle it. Hopefully.

[Half a page of doodles, mostly of nature and wildlife with the exception of a half-finished doodle of an arm clad in a fabric that drapes like silk and a hand with polished nails]

March 3rd, 2038

Many surprising things were learned today. I can’t believe it’s illegal to be gay in Terranova. Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just—out of all the things they could be bothered by, it’s that? Really?

March 12th, 2038

I haven’t been good at journaling recently. I don’t really want to talk about why. You know why.

[Six pages of drawings, with many unfinished doodles of Y/N—including but not limited to her on her horse, her reading on the couch, and one with her sitting in what is a very loose interpretation of a classroom, taking notes]

March 13th, 2038

I will feel more normal tomorrow. Hopefully.

[Two pages of drawings, all of Y/N. One is her bent over a book, the other is her smiling up at you]

March 14th, 2038

I did something really stupid. I think I should probably just document this here so I don’t accidentally drunkenly spill it all out to Dina at the next bonfire. This is so embarrassing. I don’t get why I feel this way. It’s so stupid, you know? To feel anything towards someone who’s so…I don’t know. Different.

She gives me the weirdest looks sometimes. I can’t tell what they mean. It feels like she’s judging me. And why wouldn’t she be? I bet all the girls she spends her time around back home are just like her—perfect, orderly, pretty, proper. The day before I took her patrolling she gawked at the shorts I was wearing. It was borderline offensive. Actually, fuck that. It wasn’t borderline. It was offensive. You don’t just stare at people like that. She should know that.

Anyway, I invited her over to my room last night. Normal, right? Because we’ve been doing that a little since I took her on patrol, by the way. I’m not sure if I mentioned that before. But this time I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m…I don’t know. Creepy? Strange? Scary? She told me that she thought I was intimidating. And then I called her “untouched”, like how some old-timer devout Christian wackjob or whatever would describe virginity. It was so fucking weird of me. I don’t know what got into me, but she kept doing this thing where she kicked my foot with hers or touched my knee and it just threw me off. It took me forever to fall asleep last night—I kept replaying what I’d said to her, especially how I’d told her that she wouldn’t have made it if she were me like I was some sort of hardcore survivalist. I think I embarrassed her. I’m never doing anything like this again. I’m going to be dead sober every time I see her from now on.

I’ll stop talking about that. Y/N did come back after I’d made a fool of myself and showed me her collection of movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. I haven’t watched any movies since I was with Cat. When we first started dating, I’d invite her over and she’d sit right where Y/N did last night. I’m trying to not think of the implications, because it’s space girl, and she’s going home sometime soon.

[Three pages of drawings follow—some nature drawings of ferns and moths, others of Y/N with wet hair, her knees tucked up to her chin like she’d been in Ellie’s bed that night]

March 19th, 2038

It’s the Spring Equinox. That’s the first thing Y/N told me this morning when she saw me in the kitchen this morning. She gave me a mini lecture on what that meant for the planet’s axis tilt and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I already knew, since she seemed really excited to tell me.

I made a horrible discovery yesterday, by the way. Maria came up to me and told me that Tommy had decided to reach out to some of his other buddies up North to see if they had any connections to Terranova, and for the first time, I felt myself hoping that it wouldn’t work.

It’s awful. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Even in Jackson, where things are comparatively much better than the rest of the world, there’s risk. Just this winter, one family had to be kicked out when they were found hiding an infected son. No one here is completely safe, just safer. I shouldn’t be selfish. Y/N needs to go where she’s meant to be, where there’s no chance of infection or invasion. I’ll be fine. I just need to get over whatever this is.

Speaking of her, I need to go get her to tell her that we’re heading out on patrol in just a few minutes. Fingers crossed she doesn’t accidentally shoot me, but Joel swore up and down that she knows how to handle a gun now. Sure. Haha.

I’m back. It’s the middle of the night and she only just left my room. I don’t know how much detail I need to go into—chances are I won’t forget this. But for bookkeeping purposes: patrol did not go so hot. I had to give her stitches without any local anesthesia. I’ve never given stitches to anyone nearly in my lap before. I was really nervous, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had to focus so much on keeping my hands steady when it came to stitching someone up before, not even with Joel.

I’m starting to think that maybe I was wrong about thinking that she didn’t like me. I still can’t tell exactly what she thinks of me, and I know that it’s a really bad fucking idea to be entertaining thoughts like these, but tonight she did something that made me reconsider. She got under the covers with me, and instead of moving away to keep us from touching, she rested her head next to mine on the pillow.

I hope she couldn’t hear how much my heart was racing. People can’t hear that kind of stuff, right? Even if they’re close?

I’m being ridiculous. There’s no way she—No. She doesn’t see me like that.

March 21st, 2038

She rested her head on my shoulder today. I don’t know what to think of it. If she was normal and grew up like the rest of us did, I would know exactly what to think. But she’s not normal, and it’s not fair of me to treat her like she is. Maybe this is, like, a culturally acceptable thing back from where she grew up. Maybe rich people just cuddle each other all the time. I wouldn’t fucking know, and unfortunately no one in this godforsaken town can help, because there’s a distinct lack of what Maria calls the “bourgeoisie”. They’re all either dead or back where Y/N grew up, doing whatever rich snobs do.

Even if it is normal for her, I feel like I can’t stop analyzing everything she does. She seems more nervous around me than she does anyone else, but she lingers like she can’t help herself. I’ve noticed that she stumbles over her words and touches me much more than is really necessary. Or at least I think she does—maybe I’m just imagining things.

But even if it means what I think it does, I can’t let myself think like this. It’s not fair to her. No one deserves to live here if they have the choice. At least the people out here know how to handle it. She doesn’t, and I don’t want her to turn into the type of person who does.

When I stitched her up and teased her about being weak and sensitive, I think she thought I was insulting her. I try not to think about it, but if I let myself wallow too much, I’ll wonder what kind of person I’d be if I wasn’t so jaded. Maybe I’d draw more, or read more, or write more. Maybe I’d be an easier person to love. I didn’t get to choose how I turned out. It just happened to me.

So if she has the choice, I’m going to do everything I can to help her make the right one. I don’t want her to be like this.

March 29th, 2038

I had a dream about Riley last night. I haven’t had one of those in years, not since I was traveling with Joel. We were back in the mall, and Riley had just turned the lights on as a surprise. I had this feeling then, like I was being given a second chance. That I could set things straight and do what was right. I woke up before I could insist that we leave.

[A drawing takes up half of the next page. It’s a crude depiction of the mall Riley turned in.]

April 4th, 2038

It’s the middle of the night again. I can’t sleep. I’m so disappointed with myself about what I did tonight with Y/N. At the time, it seemed like a really good idea. She likes me back, apparently. I was right about everything that I wrote about earlier, I guess. But it certainly doesn’t feel like I thought it would.

It’s not like there’s no part of me that isn’t thrilled that she feels the same way. That’s why I gave in and slept with her. But even when she told me how she felt, even before I completely lost my self-control, something heavy was already hanging over me. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. I don’t know. What I do know is that this can’t last. I can’t make this good for her like I want to. She needs to go back, and she needs to be able to feel like she can make that choice without feeling like she’s leaving anything good behind.

I’m not a spiritual person. but even so, I can’t help but feel like that dream of Riley was a sign. This is my second chance. I’m not going to fuck it up this time. I’ve already been an accomplice of so much suffering. Y/N is going home, and I’ll never see her again when she does. That’s that.

It took all I had left in me in the end to kick her out. She looked so hurt, and the fact that she tried to hide it made it even worse. I wish I could tell her why this can’t work, but I don’t think she’d understand.

[A drawing of Y/N kissing Ellie’s palm follows, her hair slightly mussed]

April 6th, 2038

I need to stop making rash decisions like knocking on her door late at night and asking her to come over. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me, because whenever I see her now, I can’t help but freeze up. Like last night, when she kissed me and touched my face and told me she thought I was a good person. I panicked and told her—well, nevermind. I don’t really want to repeat it here. It was mean, but I didn’t know what else I could do to get her to stop.

She was already tearing up by the time she left. I had to sit down and breathe deeply for a few minutes before I was sure I wasn’t going to be sick. I don’t really think I want to write more about this right now. It just makes me sad how unfair this all is. Of course the one time after Cat that I meet someone I really like it just has to be in one of the cruelest scenarios possible. I just have no idea what to do.

[Five pages of drawings follow of Y/N in bed, her head tilted back against the pillow, her eye’s half lidded, and her mouth slightly agape. Ellie redraws this multiple times, x-ing out parts that don’t seem quite right]

April 10th, 2038

I know this is none of my business, but she’s been spending a lot of time with Dina lately. She nearly got herself killed getting a gift for me with Dina yesterday, which feels like some sort of especially cruel joke. The universe isn’t being very fucking subtle right now.

If what I’m worried about is right, at least Dina has the option to come with her up North. She’d test negative.

April 20th, 2038

I would really like it if I could have one short break from the misery that’s my life right now. I turned 20 yesterday, accidentally introduced Y/N to my ex, proceeded to get much drunker than I meant to, completely fell off my rocker and asked Y/N to stay the night, and then discovered this morning that not only has Terranova found Y/N but that my strategy of keeping Y/N at arm’s length completely failed.

She wants me to come with her, and she’s threatening to stay here otherwise. I did the only thing that I could think to do and snapped at her.

I’m so tired of this. I hate having to act like I don’t care. This is the third time now that I’ve had to say something nasty to her to keep her from getting too close. I just want to get in bed and sleep until she leaves and I can pretend like nothing ever happened and that everything is normal.

[One page of drawings of Y/N passed out in her bed and Y/N grinning while holding a lopsided cake]

April 28th, 2038

I know I haven’t been writing much again. Sorry about that. I just can’t bear to think about my life right now. I know I should be relieved—this is what I wanted. I wanted her to go where it’s best for her.

But there’s still that selfish part of me that keeps me up at night. Y/N is going to leave this place never knowing how I feel about her. Logically, that should be what I want. This way I won’t need to say a real goodbye. I know I won’t need to now, since she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. It’s really fucking immature of me to be so hurt by what she must think of me now, but I can’t stop.

I wonder how long it will take for me to stop feeling sad about this. I’ve never had to process anything like this where there’s nothing I can do. With Riley and Sam, I at least got to heal from the knowledge that I was going to help make the vaccine to save the world. But losing Y/N just because of where we come from is totally meaningless. I can go forward knowing that I made it easy for her to make the right decision, but that only goes so far.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle this. I’m going to practically live with Dina so I don’t need to be alone for the first few weeks.

I wish May 8th would just come already so she can go away and I can get on with my life.

May 1st, 2038

Things have changed some. Joel cornered me in the kitchen last night and told me that I needed to grow up and just appreciate the rest of the time I had left with Y/N. I was going to agree and try to walk past him, but he stopped me and told me that he needed me to escort Y/N. I guess he’s right. She can’t go alone, and Joel and Tommy are getting a little too old for week-long expeditions into the wilderness.

He also told me that I need to apologize to her and make things right, saying shit like I’d regret it forever if things ended between us like this. I don’t want to admit it, but I think he’s right. When I told him that she’d originally threatened to stay if I didn’t go with her, he blinked, hard. Then he told me that he had an idea.

I’m faking it. I’m telling her that I’m going, even though I’m going to leave her when she gets picked up. I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off. When I told her in the meadow last night, she was so happy. I know it’s really sappy and cliche to say this, but I felt my heart shatter, bit by bit. I’m not a very good liar, not to people who are important to me. But I suppose I’ve been lying to her all this time, kicking her out of my room and telling her that I didn’t want anything more with her.

I can do this, I think. I have to do this, or else she might threaten to stay, and I don’t think I have it in me to be cruel again. Not to her. I guess I’ll just trick myself into feeling like I’m actually coming with her, like we have a chance of actually being together. I don’t know. We’ll see.

[One drawing of Y/N laying down in the meadow that takes up half a page]

May 3rd, 2038

It’s easier than I expected. Y/N sleeps over in my room at night, and if I don’t think too hard about it, I can pretend like things will always be like this.

I’m getting to be such a sap, though. I almost broke down in the bathroom today while I was getting ready. It was over the stupidest thing—a toothpaste bottle. Y/N always folds it so neatly, making a perfect, tight spiral of plastic near the end. It used to really bother me when I first had to share with her (because who does that—it’s weird and doesn’t do anything since she doesn’t manage to squeeze out the extra in the bottom anyways), but the thought of throwing it out when it finally emptied and having to find another one that’ll never be folded again hit me and suddenly I was counting my inhales and exhales. I don’t really give a shit about toothpaste. It’s just that it was the moment that I realized that she’s really going to be gone soon, you know? Slowly but surely, the evidence of her stay here will be wiped away and replaced. Someday I’ll forget all the little details about her.

She’s knocking on my door. I need to stop being so depressed and go see her before she picks up that something’s wrong.

[One small doodle of Y/N smiling and rolling her eyes while brushing her teeth]

May 6th, 2038

Dina’s coming now. Y/N told me this morning after she went to say goodbye. I feel really shitty about this. I guess I should tell her that I’m not going now, because this way Y/N needs to go home to get Dina the help she needs, but I just can’t bring myself to. I’ll have to escort both of them to the pickup spot anyway since Dina’s weaker now that she’s pregnant, and the thought of having to spend a full week with Y/N after she knew I lied to her makes my skin crawl. I can’t tell who I’m trying to protect by doing this—me or her. Maybe both.

I’m losing my two favorite people here, and they don’t even know it yet. But this is the best option. This is my chance to finally do some good in the world.

May 7th, 2038

I’m about to go stargazing with Y/N for the last time. I don’t think I’ll be writing in here again until I get back. I don’t want to risk losing this while I’m out in case something crazy happens. Which it probably will, but I canonically happen to be really good at living when shit hits the fan. Also—I don’t imagine Y/N to be a particularly nosy person, but if she ever came across this and thought it was a book or something, it would make things really awkward. So, you’re staying tucked carefully under my bed until I come back later this month.

I don’t know how to handle this sort of goodbye. I don’t really know how to handle any sort of goodbye, I guess, but at least I’ve been through them before. I may not do it well, but I know how to live when people I love die. But this isn’t like that. No one is dying (hopefully), and more importantly, I know it’s a goodbye this time. I see it coming on the horizon and I can’t even tell anyone about it. How does anyone deal with that? How does anyone cope?

Y/N’s knocking on my door now. I need to go before I start thinking even more and do something stupid like start crying or whatever.

I’ll be back in about two weeks.

June 1st, 2038

Sorry for not writing. It’s been pretty shitty, actually. It took me 5 extra days to get home because some scavengers gave me trouble. I hardly slept for most of them. I ran out of ammo about 4 days out and had to use my knife for everything I ran into until I was able to raid the cabinets of this abandoned cabin. Nearly got taken out by a clicker, too. It was not fun. It was especially not fun because I was not feeling super great to begin with, for obvious reasons.

Things haven’t gotten any better since getting back to Jackson. Y/N didn’t take her stupid Exoplanetary Systems textbook and now I’m struggling with whether or not I should throw it out. The rational side of me says to keep it because it was published after the outbreak and probably contains updated information that isn’t anywhere else. The rest of me doesn’t even want to look at the stars anymore because it reminds me of her.

It’s really hard not to blame her for ruining everything. I can’t go out and ride my own horse without thinking about the first time we went on patrol together and she dropped my gun and nearly killed one of us. And I can’t even relax in my own home, because I’ve spent almost every night with her since March in my bed. Sometimes when I hear a creak in the middle of the night I assume it’s her walking down to the bathroom or getting water until it hits me again that she’s never coming back.

I know I’m being melodramatic. There are many other worse problems I could be having right now. But I don’t even have my best friend anymore. I wonder if Dina and Y/N are angry with me for lying. I wonder if they’re settling in okay. I hope that Y/N manages to fix whatever her research was and that Dina gets better.

[Twenty pages of drawings of Y/N and Dina together. Some are snippets of them on their expedition to the pickup site. Others are pictures of Y/N and Dina walking around with smiles on their faces in what looks to be a city]

June 21st, 2038

It’s been over a month since I’ve last seen her. I had a breakdown while getting ready for bed when I realized that I didn’t remember what her voice sounded like anymore.

[Ten pages of half-finished drawings, each with its face scribbled over]

June 28th, 2038

I don’t think I really remember what she looks like—not exactly. I’ve been trying to draw her because I’m still in the habit of making decisions that are definitely not good for my mental state. I just can’t do it, and it isn’t for the lack of trying. Every time I get to her eyes I keep drawing something that looks wrong, but I can never tell why. I compare it to my earlier drawings of her from when we first met and it feels like meeting her for the first time again.

Joel says it’ll pass and that he’s proud of me for doing the right thing. Jessie and I have been hanging out more. Even if he won’t admit it, I can tell he’s miserable without Dina. But he understands why she had to go—just like how I feel about Y/N. And Dina too, of course. Jackson feels like a ghost town without her.

July 17th, 2038

I haven’t been writing or drawing in here for a while, I know. I was going to just go ahead and start a new journal—you know the one that Maria gave me for Christmas with the dark blue cover—but it didn’t feel right to just stop without explaining. Otherwise I’ll feel like an asshole for wasting so much paper.

I don’t want to move on from what happened with Y/N and Dina. I really don’t, but I don't think I have a choice. If I keep going on like this, I’ll never be able to live normally again. I’m just sick and tired of being sad all of the time. So I’m not going to write here anymore. I don’t think it’s realistic for me to forget all about it, because I don’t want to forget her. Not really. But I guess if I want to get better, I’ll need something different. So, here’s that. The beginning of my fresh start. “Fresh start” and you call me overdramatic!! haha. Y/N was here!

(You left this on your nightstand. I promise I didn’t read too much. I opened it because I thought it was your sketchbook. I’m going to put this back since I hear you walking down the hall now.)

ok as an aside my blog is broken so my stuff isn’t notifying people when i tag/showing up on dashes or in tags. please reblog if you’re comfortable so people can actually find this! thank you!

final a/n: i totally get it if this wasn’t quite your cup of tea this time—i just really wanted to iron out ellie’s pov before their reunion in the end. which is happening and not a spoiler because i have always promised a hea! this was a change in pace for the story and i promise you that the next chapter will be more normal/align more with my normal writing style. i have also changed my mind (probably) and have decided to stick with writing an epilogue! so two more chapters are coming before this is totally over. thank you so much for waiting and being so patient! i love you all dearly ok bye bye now

[gwyns]

“Gwynriel’s know Gwyn cannot carry a book on her own. She needs to piggyback on Nesta’s relevance to even have half a decent storyline and the overarching plot.”

I don’t think any Gwynriel has ever said that Gwyn will be getting her own book. I think most of us have said that Gwyn will have the other pov in Azriel’s book, similar to Cassian in Nesta’s book. Gwyn does have a decent enough storyline and potential plot if you would actually read the scenes that she is in (I’ve actually seen some e/riel’s say that when Gwyn appears they skip the page). Gwyn became the first one to cut the ribbon and become a Valkyrie; she won the Blood Rite and became the first non-Illyrian to do so; there have been many theories on her possibly being connected to Gwydion or possibly finding Narben since acosf came out; she hasn’t left the library but we know that she wants to; she feels unworthy of using her invoking stone; accepting that her sisters death wasn’t her fault; overcoming her trauma and healing; Autumn Court heritage (possibly a Vanserra); whatever is going on with Merrill and the research to other worlds; things we found out from hofas, like the Prison being connected to Nesta, and Gwyn (Emerie also) are her friends and Pegasus used to roam there and we know the Pegasi loved Gwyn the most; Ramiel with the Asteri/daglan, the black monolith at the top, Enalius.

Gwyn definitely has main character energy, it’s just some people don’t want to see the potential. And after hofas, I do believe that it’s Azriel’s that is next (of course it could end up being Elain’s or the novella). Say the next book is Azriel’s and obviously he is the main character with the first pov; Nesta played a big role in hofas, but I don’t think Sarah will give her another book or let her have the other pov, I think it will go to Gwyn since she’s a Valkyrie and connected to Nesta, so this way we can get more information. I really don’t think that the Valkyrie plot line is over.

And wasn’t Sarah originally going to have Nessian’s book be about an Illyrian rebellion or disarray happening in Illyria but scrapped it? Perhaps she’s saving it for Azriel since we know how he feels about that place/his people (similar to how Bryce feels about the fae) and given what we got from hofas (truth teller/Ramiel/Enalius), and it will also tie in the Valkyries, because honestly, I don’t think the males in Illyria are too happy with three women, two of which aren’t Illyrian, participating in the Blood Rite and winning.

and nesta had to "piggyback" off of feyre's relevance, what's their point? that's how spinoffs work

gwyn has heaps of potential as a main character, they're just SO insecure about it, it's plain as day in every word they write. that's why they have to get online to write think pieces about their hatred and downplay gwyn's significance since no one ever taught them how to properly deal with their emotions. basically, they're making it everyone else's problem

i've been here since the dawn of time and have never once seen a gwynriel say gwyn would be the actual mc of a book, we've always theorized about how she, her storyline and her abilities could compliment an az centric story. e/riels know this but they don't have anything proper to cry over so they ignore it and lie, much like they do with the actual books lol

agreed. i feel like hofas only reinforced that the valkyrie plot is far from over, all the connections nesta had with bryce and the dusk court. i definitely think that'll be the valkyries base or something. as much as i love nesta, i feel the same. i don't think she'll get another book or have a centric pov again (obviously this can change), so who is the next character most connected to the valkyries? who helped reform them? who did research on them and was the first to cut the ribbon? who, alongside emerie ANOTHER founding valkyrie, was one of the first females to win the blood rite? the same blood rite that's a sacred illyrian tradition that is connected to azriel, the other acotar character that took center stage in hofas, personally? hmmm... seems like miss janet has quite the coincidence on her hands here!

yup! sjm set up an illyrian rebellion in acofas, showed us that acosf snippet where nessian were going to the illyrian mountains and everyone (rightfully) assumed they were going to deal with that. but years passed and acosf finally came out and the rebellion is just... on the back burner for now? the leader of it was killed quietly off page and now the story centers on the dread trove and valkyrie training but we are still told that another rebellion is brewing. it's clear to me, and many others, that sjm changed her plans a tiiiiny bit and decided to have azriel deal with this plotline. i, for one, am excited to see how sjm handles it!

[greenhappyseed]

with the recent chapter, we could have seen more of tomura with vesitges since the interaction was offscreen apparently. idk if we would see it in the upcoming chapter. i hope so since i thought tomura's part was a bit rushed. i need a whole chapter dedicated to tomura pov at that moment including with the offscreen vestiges interaction..

Yeah, I agree that the execution of 423 feels really rushed. In one chapter we had: AFO realizing Tomura’s body is unstable; Izuku going within Tomura’s body and meeting vestige AFO face-to-face (which…have AFO and Izuku ever fought before??); Tomura returning WITH the vestiges courtesy of Nana saving him (but offscreen!!!); Yoichi delivering the smack down on his brother; Tomura and Izuku punching AFO together; Tomura realizing he’s dying (??) and delivering his final (??) message to Izuku. Also, Kurogiri, Aizawa, and Mic had their arc climax crammed in there, plus Bakugo returning courtesy of Shoto (but them working together was offscreen). It’s a LOT.

To me, the most egregious part is that Tomura was disintegrating after the psyche-shattering revelations from AFO and Nana SAVED him. Nana, who told Izuku to kill Tomura two times. Nana, who died decades ago. But her spirit grew strong enough that she managed to overcome her “weakness” and fix her own family tragedy. Her heroism helped Tomura re-emerge and create a new legacy and IT’S ALL OFFSCREEN.

Relatedly, Aura Might is missing entirely from this chapter. If this is the end, I really wish there had been more payoff for All Might’s vestige and, in hindsight, Katsuki’s “death.” I don’t know how we basically got a full chapter of Katsuki’s “death” and another full chapter (by panel count across 2-3 chapters) of him having open-jeart surgery, while Nana and Aura Might ended up offscreen. This is making me think there’s still more to come, because there was SO much build up, it would be an odd choice to drop it.

Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved some Tomura interaction with other vestiges like Banjo or Yoichi too. But the Shimura family tragedy is THE catalyst that sets MHA in motion. If Nana hadn’t given away Kotaro, she may not have taken Toshinori under her wing. If she hadn’t told Torino and Toshinori to stay away from Kotaro, then he may not have fallen under AFO’s influence. Tomura might not have existed.

We’ve had numerous panels of Nana sobbing with regret, saying how it’s shameful to expect a teenager like Izuku to fix her mistakes. If Nana rescued a disintegrating Tomura so he could help her and Izuku finally kill AFO? Even if Aura Might isn’t there, that’s huge. That’s Nana saying “fuck you” to AFO’s narrative and writing her own heroic ending to her story. For that to be resolved offscreen feels wrong. Justice for Nana!

[twstbookclub]

Tickled Pink, But It's a Skill Issue

Summary: Idia is anything but thrilled at the soulmate mark on his wrist. After meeting his soulmate on one sunny day though, he's having second thoughts. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa 🦋 Tags: Comedy, Slight Angst, Romance, Fluff, Soulmate AU, Minor Swearing, Idia Gamer Speak, The Absolute Cringelord that is Idia Shroud, and Minor Book 6 spoilers

Word Count: 1,218

Idia Shroud stared at the words tattooed on his wrist with a grimace. Throughout his eighteen years of living, it still baffled him that the words he was born with cursed with, more like it were four words that made him want to shrink from embarrassment. Anyone else might have wondered about their soulmate once they saw their mark, but Idia might as well die from cringe.

“Your hair is pretty,” he muttered, shuddering. Really? Idia would rather have anything—anything, really—for a soulmate mark. What kind of soulmate’s first words to him would be about his hair, an untamed trail of flames and emotion? Emotions that made it obvious to anyone that he’s either angry or embarrassed? Emotions bearing impossible dreams, brutally crushed during his childhood? Idia would rather his soulmate curse or insult him for how much of a shut-in he is. If he was going to take the L and spend the rest of his life with this one person, at least make it believable.

Must be a normie hopeless romantic, Idia thought as he tapped and typed on his holographic screens. The type who dreams of a knight who saves them from a dragon for an RPG quest. Just like those prissy, trash-tier snobs at RSA. Just like a cliché romance plot in a B movie.

Idia knew he shouldn’t think of his soulmate like this before even meeting them. People his age already found their soulmates at this point. Couples holding hands in the park, sharing a drink in the restaurant booth, and all of the typical, mushy, lovey-dovey things people in love do. Well, people that aren’t the Shroud family. With how robotic they are, Idia doubts if the Shroud pair ever fell in love. He didn’t care to know about how his parents found each other. Even if he was curious as a kid, his parents never gave him the time of the day. Not when they were too busy to even look at their children who were going to inherit the fate of the Shrouds.

A faint crackle made Idia glance at the lock trailing down his shoulder. The orange tips of his hair shone like the beginning of twilight in his room, which was Idia’s cue to calm down. He huffed, subconsciously typing more aggressively than usual, and willed himself to forget his feelings. The thought of his soulmate always worked him up, or was it his parents?

“Who cares? I need to log in and do my dailies. I don’t want to break my log-in streak just because of this.”

Idia spent another evening in his room with nothing but his games, shoving ridiculous sentiment aside and waiting for Ortho to come back from class.

The next day was supposed to be ordinary, bleak, uneventful. Idia only went outside the comfort of his room to grab the newest video games and manga he ordered. Classes should’ve kept every NRC student busy. He could’ve slipped in and out of daylight without anyone noticing him.

“Your hair is pretty.”

Why is the Ramshackle Prefect here? Better yet, why did the universe give him a soulmate that was always surrounded by drama? Is he the main character of some sick comedy? Are the gods making fun of him at this point?

Idia Shroud, a stuttering coward in the crowd and a callous bastard behind the monitor, wanted to disappear right then and there. The tips of his hair flickered between fiery red and hot pink. His amber irises switched from the Prefect’s eyes, the cobblestone of Main Street, the Lord of the Underworld’s statue, and back to the Prefect’s eyes before he remembered that he shouldn’t be looking at them in the first place.

Maybe Idia should’ve worked on that drone to grab his deliveries for him. Maybe he could’ve avoided this outcome. Then again, if he couldn’t avoid his fate of being stuck as the Watchman, Idia could never run away from this even if he tried to.

He knew your name. Everyone does. You were the infamous magicless student in Night Raven College. You always found yourself in troublesome situations and with the SSR Epic Troublemakers. Riddle Rosehearts? Leona Kingscholar? Azul Ashengrotto? Does he need to list more of them to get the point across?

More importantly, you’re his soulmate. You. His. Idia’s mind was on the verge of a shutdown until he remembered that he should reply to you instead of standing like a spooked cat drenched in the rain.

“What’s a normie like you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in class with the monster kitty?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why was his literal default being an asshole? His soulmate is standing not more than a meter in front of him, and he called them a normie. Brilliant. Can’t he level up his Charm stat just this once? Is he seriously having a skill issue right now?

While Idia was handling an internal battle with himself, you raised a brow. Oh no. He’s done it. Here comes the insult, the slap, the animosity he’s familiar with.

Except, you weren’t all those things.

“Did you just call me a normie?” You laughed, crossing your arms and grinning. The sound echoed in his ears, rattled his mind, and stole his every thought. Suddenly, Idia wanted to hear more of it. Honestly, this entire scenario feels like it was ripped out of a dating sim. This was getting into dangerous territory.

Idia’s hands hovered over his chest as he watched the magicless prefect. His shoulders visibly relaxed, but his fists clenched ‘til his knuckles turned ghostly pale. Well, that’s a first.

You kept going, undeterred by his insult, “It’s none of your business. I just wanted to say your hair’s pretty. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

You… didn’t know him. Idia didn’t know whether he should collapse from relief or cry about how invisible he was to you. Is this what it felt like to be a forgettable side character in a Triple-A game? Since when did it matter what you thought of him? Since when did he decide that you calling his hair pretty wasn’t cringe? Since when did his hair glow bright pink?

“Nevermind. I don’t have time for this.” You shook your head and walked around him. Idia almost grabbed your wrist out of instinct. As if this scene was straight out of a shoujo manga where the main character tries to reach out to her love interest before confessing. His hand shot back to his chest as if he was burned.

Oh great Seven, he’s turning into a walking cliché at the sight of his soulmate.

Idia’s heart jumped into his throat when you looked back at him with a knowing smirk. One that he knows will damn him for the rest of his life just because he wanted to get his video games and manga. Idia wanted to die on the spot at what you told him next.

“Look, you’re hot and all, but seriously? Pro tip: don’t insult your soulmate on sight. Make a better first impression next time, alright?”

Oh.

Oh.

Idia will make damn sure that he finishes that drone before he sees you again. Otherwise, he’ll combust on the spot and the pink flames will be screaming his infatuation for you.

[mooncello]

What a fun Sunday so far. ⚡ thank you for the tags @bookish-bogwitch (LOVE seeing some of your writing process), @shrekgogurt (still haven't recovered from ch 13 of ikabikam in the best way possible), @emeryhall (happy anniversary!) & @you-remind-me-of-the-babe (anguished Baz is such a vibe fr).

For today's update:

Enter Niall & Dev.

Truly one of the most unexpected delights of writing this fic has been the insistence of Niall and Dev to show up and take a prominent role in the story. I adore them. I adore them as individual characters, and I love who they are for Baz.

Here's a little from chapter 2 of lost boys. This chapter will publish next week! I'm traveling this week, so I'll post once I'm back.

Under the cut because of length. It's a 30+ sentence Sunday, y'all.

Baz POV, 16 yo, year 12 (school).

Towards the end of lunch, I hear a familiar booming laugh across the canteen. I figure I have two minutes until impact. I tuck my sketchbook and pencils away and twist the lid back onto my thermos of tea. “Just a head’s up,” I say to Niall, who is still contently working away, “we’re about to be interrupted by the demon of chaos hims—” “Bazza!” There’s the solid thump of a hand against my shoulder and the dramatic collapse of tall, muscular limbs into the seat beside me. “My favourite nerd. How’s it going, cuz?” Dev flashes his white, perfect teeth at me before snatching my remaining bourbon biscuit. His fingernails are painted turquoise today, his dark hair is swept away from his face, and he’s wearing eyeliner. The bastard looks amazing. Despite being cousins, we never really hung out as kids. Always kept to different social circles. Which is to say Dev constantly had a roving pack of friends, and I had nobody (save for the lost boys in my dreams). But when I got outed this past spring, Dev decided to take a more active presence in my life. He even convinced me to join the football team with him. He’s charismatic and popular in his own way, and so unabashedly and loudly himself that even the nastiest bullies don’t bother him. It's been nice, having Dev in my life. Even though it means I now deal with his chaotic, abrasive personality all the goddamn time. “Dev, this is Niall.” I make a small sweeping motion to the boy across from us. Dev raises his chin in greeting. “New kid. Hey.” Niall smiles faintly. He looks rather disoriented. Possibly awestruck. I don’t blame him. Dev tends to have that effect on people. I’m almost envious of it. Another smack hits my upper arm. “Did’ya hear about practice this afternoon? Thirty minutes later than usual.” “Yes, I received the same team-wide notification, Dev, thank you.” Dev is now peering at Niall’s drawing tablet without shame, while continuing to talk to me. “A bunch of us are getting ice cream after the match on Friday. Wanna join?” “That’s a very solid maybe,” I tell him in a tone that communicates I’d rather eat grass laced with slug poison. I like playing on the pitch, but I’m not about to huff dairy with a bunch of footballer lads. “Great.” Dev stands, all six feet of him, and squeezes my top knot. I sigh and bat his hand away. Clearly I need to have another conversation with him about acceptable physical contact. “See you at practice then. Nice meeting you, Niall.” He’s off in a swirl of flair and overpriced body spray. “Sorry about him,” I murmur to Niall. I really hope he’s not scared off.

hellos & tags! xoxo

@thewholelemon, @best--dress, @facewithoutheart, @cutestkilla, @whatevertheweather, @artsyunderstudy, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @fatalfangirl, @youarenevertooold, @raenestee, @orange-peony, @ileadacharmedlife, @nightimedreamersworld, @rimeswithpurple, @iamamythologicalcreature, @shemakesmeforget & @arthurkko (your merwolves ... still thinking about your merwolves)

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 23 “Smells Like Sheet”[Episode List]

Due to a cliché, Tim and the-gassy-as-usual Dave have to share a bed. Who could possibly know what's gonna happen next... though it may involve a dutch oven that's for sure.

POV: Tim

Smells Like Sheet

“Tim Slade and Dave Maning, right?” the receptionist kindly asked.

The hotel hall around us was way too… glittery for my standards, but that’s what happens when Dave asks you to join him for a business trip. Well, not really a business trip, but rather a rather some kind of celebration for a milestone that The Company he works for reached, and given that it was also thanks to him, he was invited to this very special dinner. However, it wasn’t as fancy or formal as the location may suggest, as Dave’s boss did tell everyone that they could let one friend or partner join the night: after all, it was a party.

My bro usually hates going to “parties” planned by The Company but since this celebration in particular was an important event, which also could lead to yet another promotion, me, our other friends and Dana (his girlfriend) basically forced him to go.

What I didn’t expect is that I’d be the one joining him instead of Dana. This happened for 2 reasons:

Reason 1: Dana was busy with her own job and couldn’t join his boyfriend even if she wanted to but, just like him, she too hates this kind of events (they’re really made for each other, huh? Can’t say I disagree however…).

Reason 2: Dave actually wanted to introduce me to his boss because they’re looking for someone with video-making skills to film something for them, maybe some kind of motivational video that corporations love to do.

So here we are, the receptionist of this fancy hotel handing us the key to our room.

“Here you go: Room 669”

“Heh. Ni-Nice” both me and Dave said, because our brains stopped working at the same time.

The receptionist pretended he didn’t hear a thing, thankfully.

We then walked through the fancy hall and took the elevator, just the two of us. We didn’t have any luggage with us, since it was just for one night, so our backpacks were enough.

“So silent…” Dave said.

“What?” I asked.

“This elevator. I can hear my own heart beating. I’m impressed.”

I stared at him, his tall figure, wearing a grey shirt and pair of black jeans. My mind immediately went to one time we took an elevator ride together and immediately stopped him before he could do anything uncalled for.

“Dude, have mercy. There’s other people who’s gonna need this elevator.”

Dave was standing next to me and turned to me, sporting a puzzled expression. He seemed confused by my words, I could tell he wasn’t being sarcastic or anything, maybe.

“What? What do you mean?”

Right. It’s not like people always thinks about farts… not that I do, believe it or not. 

I felt very embarrassed to be honest.

“S-sorry. I just thought… y-you know…” 

“Ok… you’re stuttering like an idiot…” he said. “so I’m pretty sure you thought I was going to break the silence with one of my farts, right?” the way he asked it so casually was already oddly… hot for me, but also reassuring.

“Yes.” I simply replied, hating the elevator for how long it was taking to reach our destination. “I’m sorry. But believe me, I was telling you this because I don’t want people to choke on your gas.”

He leaned towards me a bit. “Unless it’s you, right?” he whispered, the bastard.

“Shut up!” I said, as he laughed like a jerk.

Once again, silence. Dave being chill around me makes me stutter more than his blasts.

However, after like 10 seconds, I decided to break the silence instead.

“You were totally going to far-“

“Yes” he cut me off “I was totally going to destroy this elevator but you, of all people, stopped me.”

We both laughed like idiots and the doors opened. Indeed, people stepped inside as we left. They don’t know that I probably saved their nostrils, I’m the unsung hero of their story.

—

We reached our room mere seconds later. We stepped inside, but not before both me and Dave could once again go “Ni-nice” at the same time the moment we saw our room number hanging on the door. This is gonna be a thing for the next few ours so brace yourself, readers.

The room was exactly as you may expect: big, fancy, with all the comforts and more, big windows and a nice view on the city, and a queen-size bed in the middle. I almost felt out of place: it truly looks like a perfect room for an actual couple.

And no, weirdly enough the queen bed didn’t make me nervous: both me and Dave knew it was gonna happen so I already had my awkward phase back at home. My friend is chill and he doesn’t care about sharing the bed with a gay man like me, plus it already happened sometime ago anyway.

All of those doubts always sound so silly when I stop and remember how I spend way too much time with my face planted into my friend’s farting ass, courtesy of his skills and the fact that in his own non-kinky way he enjoys making sure that almost none of his farts go to waste. Well, none except the one he started ripping as I opened my backpack and sat on the bed, his way to assert dominance every time we go into a hotel room. Loud, long and proud, around 7 seconds long, so basically a medium-sized one for Dave’s standards. 

My bro raised his left hand and pointed his index finger up as the fart ended on a high note, as if he was conducting his own rip like it was an orchestra. As the blast ended, he just stared at me with a silly smile, something that he’d always do even before he found out about my kink: he’s just your average gassy friend, can’t do anything about that.

“So…” I tried to ignore the scent that reached my nose. “What’s the plan for tonight?” I asked.

“First thing first, we gotta take a shower. Not together at the same time I’m afraid. You can go first.”

“You can join me if you want…” I said, winking at him as I went into the bathroom.

“D-don’t make me horny dude!” he jokingly replied.

—

I was drying my hair by the bed while Dave took a shower (it was his turn). As I said, while it wasn’t the fancy night one might except, we kind of had to look really good, me especially, because Dave’s boss is a fine guy, but also one of those “first impression is best impression” dudes. I mean, the shower was obvious, but me going as far as making sure my hair look great, while normally I wouldn’t even use a comb, is telling.

I heard, or rather, didn’t hear the shower anymore so I knew Dave was done. What I did hear however was his ass being talky tonight, exploding in a thunderous, wet post-shower rip that easily surpassed the hair dryer’s notably loud sound. I didn’t properly see Dave ripping ass, but the fact that I could hear it so clearly was yet another proof of his incredible skills. He didn’t even comment on it, I mean it’s not like every time he farts we have to acknowledge my kink, when even I sometimes just ignore it.

“I hope you heard that, honey.” 

I heard the bastard say from the bathroom.

Yes, I sometimes just ignore it… until Dave makes sure I don’t.

—-

Finally we were ready to leave. The Company held this important dinner basically downstairs, in the hotel’s restaurant. They basically booked the entire place so we could eat, drink and just hang out together, talking about business in a surprisingly relaxing and chill environment. This was reflected in our clothes, as they were formal-ish but not, you know, wedding-tier. Dave was wearing a white shirt, sleeves pulled up, black jeans and black sneakers. I was basically dressed the same, only my shirt was grey.

“Nice. You almost look fuckable tonight.” my friend told me, as he sprayed some last bits of deodorant around us.

“I was gonna tell you the same.” 

“Well... we are in room 669 you know...” he winked at me and then headed for the door.

(Ni-Nice!)

—

Dinner was pretty good and varied, they really spared no expenses, especially considering how The Company even paid for everyone’s rooms (not that there were many guests, but still). There was meat, vegetables and even some vegan options on the menu. Both me and Dave liked the idea of trying a bit of everything, while most of the other work colleagues went for a pure carnivore approach. Alcohol was beer or wine, or both, but better not mix things up. 

Dave’s boss sometimes proposed a toast blabbering about how The Company is actually one big family… before laughing at his own overused figure of speech: he was cynical yes, but I can respect his self-awareness and lack of no-nonsense speeches about how “we’re all in this together” when we all know this isn’t true.

It all went pretty well: food was great, most of my friend’s colleagues were pretty cool I guess, and after talking for like 30 minutes, the boss simply told me to send him my portfolio, no strings attached or anything. 

Honestly I had more fun than I was expecting. Almost everything was free and everyone, whether it was a facade or not, was very nice to us, so honestly I can’t complain, only appreciate this fancy-ish night.

—

At around 2:00 AM, Dave and I got back to our room (Ni-Nice!), announcing our entrance with Dave letting out a loud belch that I’m sure tasted like the dessert. The dinner at the hotel restaurant was pretty straight-forward so once we were done eating and drinking, we had like 2 more hours of casual chatting and more drinking. There was music but it’s not like the place turned into a disco for us.

We weren’t really tired nor drunk, just a bit tipsy. We clumsily removed our shoes and collapsed on the bed. I turned the TV on and we just casually mindlessly watched it while checking our phones.

Being a queen size bed, Dave was obviously lying next to me, to my left: he was shirtless, sporting a pretty good body figure, no actual ribs but pecs were there. Given how much we ate and drank tonight, he also looked slightly bloated. His black jeans were in fact pretty loose as he untied his belt once we got back into the room. Covering his feet, a kind of out-of-place but weirdly cute pair of purple socks with a butterfly pattern on it.

We finally could talk about the night we just had, The Company itself, and most importantly make not very polite comments about a co-worker Dave particularly despises for how fake he is, one of those people ready to throw you under a bus even if that means he can get something as worthless a pat on the back by the boss.

“Your boss however” I said “really surprised me. He looks pretty chill. I think I might even enjoy working for him, about the video and all you know.”

“Yeah.” my friend remarked. “I mean he still IS the boss don’t let that fool you, but he is quite honest at least.”

 “I’ll keep that in mind when I’ll get to make the video… if he wants me to do it of course.”

“Did you send him your portfolio?”

“I just did actually. I had it zipped on my phone.”

Dave gently punched my shoulder in approval, because we’re really mature men.

“Well done bro.” he said. “I guess we gotta celebrate.”

“Yeah… with fireworks and all.” I said, sarcastically, while checking my phone.

Dave laughed. “I can help with that.”

My friend completely misinterpreted what I said and decided to showoff his well-known skills. He leaned just a bit on his side, pointing his black-denim ass towards my side of the bed, raised his right leg and let it rip. Loud, thunderous and as powerful as they come, Dave’s fart (arguably the first of a long series) almost activated my fight or flight response as I wasn’t really expecting it this time. However, it was as loud as a firework display going off in our room. The more the fart kept going, the more he raised his long leg, effectively adjusting the sound and the tone of the fart, going from lower to higher pitched. 

After I took a good look of his denim ass, I then turned directly to him: he was visibly pushing one out, with a smirk drawn on his face; he looked back at me and smiled, winking at me as the fart still echoed in the room, easily surpassing the sounds coming from the TV, which could very well be set on mute at this point.

This wasn't an elevator, so no way I was gonna stop him this time.

The already long and impressive 15 seconds fart ended with a series of 4 loud toots, which sounded a bit more difficult to properly push out, judging by Dave’s facial expressions; but still, my friend still managed to do it effortlessly, once again showing off this impressive talent. Furthermore, and this goes without saying, the stench hit my face pretty soon, as an invisible gas cloud engulfed our bed. I could basically tell what Dave had for dinner without even taking a deep whiff.

Finally, my friend’s ass went silent. Dave adjusted his position and laid down normally next to me, laughing.

“Dude” I said, trying not to laugh myself “I didn’t mean that kind of fireworks.” 

Dave was visibly puzzled, but amused. I thought he was messing with me but apparently he did misinterpret my words for real.

“Ahah I’m sorry man.” he apologized. “Well it’s not like you mind anyway, don’t you?” 

I just remained silent in front of the truth, doing my best to focus on my phone instead, but Dave obviously wasn’t done, as another loud fart erupted, making the entire bed shake.

I was horny as hell, but I just didn’t know how to act while the second blast was being ripped next to me. I wanted to plant my face into his ass but I didn’t want to take advantage of my friend being so chill about my kink. Plus it’s not like he doesn’t fart in my face; in fact, I’d even say that he facefarts me way too often!

The fart was just as loud as the previous one, if not louder. It was all natural, powered by the dinner we had and the gallons of alcohol he ingested. The smell was there, but Dave’s main treat for me was his ability to rip such long and loud farts so often: he will never cease to amaze me.

12 seconds, a bit shorter than the first one, but still a sight to sore eye… and nose, mostly.

“Alright. I’m gonna get ready to sleep.” he casually said, as he left the bed. “You can still watch the TV if you want, just don’t watch anything too loud.”

I snapped back to reality. “You have the audacity to tell me not to be loud?” 

He laughed, knowing exactly what I was referring to.

“But that’s fine, I’m too tired anyway.” 

We both changed at the same time, slipping into something more comfortable, which consisted in a generic white shirt and sweatpants, for me at least. The room was warm enough so Dave slept shirtless and only wore a pair of black boxers brief, a boxer that, just like his socks, did sport a silly pattern, this time with stars.

I went to brush my teeth and then slipped under the blankets, with my friend joining mere minutes later.

“Goodnight bro.” he said, clapping his hands 2 times, hoping the lights would magically turn off.

Surprisingly enough, the lights did turn off, truly a fancy hotel!

“No fucking way.” we both said, as if we witnessed something that happens once in a lifetime.

They didn’t exactly turn off however, but rather went dim, so I could still kind of see what’s going on. It was dark enough to sleep however, as both me and my bro prefer to sleep in darkness.

Now I felt truly tired, so I rested my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.

As expected, however, my friend wasn’t done talking; well, his ass certainly wasn’t.

I felt its vibrations immediately, as a muffled powerful rip made the bed shake. 

“Still?” I said, pretending to be as annoyed as I could.

“Shhh.” Dave cut me off, his index finger up, basically inviting me to listen to what his butt had to say.

Indeed, the ass was very talk and the fart was indeed impressive, deep-sounding and, well, manly. Despite being muffled, I could perfectly hear it. Fortunately, the stench was trapped under the blankets, like a bed-sized tuna can. My gassy friend knew it, so the bastard, with a deft movement, pullet the blanket all over me, trapping me in the metaphorical tuna can. 

Now I could hear and feel the flatulence properly, as Dave slightly lifted his ass a bit to ease the blast out, which was still going by the way. It felt like my friend trapped me in a queen-sized cage with a wild, roaring beast. The stench also hit me like a truck and every breathe I took made me taste what we had for dinner again. I tried to move, to get out, but Dave had a firm grip on the blanket covering me and he made sure I inhaled every particle of gas he was ripping.

The dutch oven maneuver knows no mercy...

18 seconds and the long fart was finally done. My friend simply laughed but still didn’t let me go.

“If you can handle my boss, I’m sure you can handle... this.” he joked.

Another loud fart erupted, this time "short", 4 seconds, but one of the loudest of the night so far.

In the dark of the dimly-lit room and under the blanket, I could still see his boxer-clad ass, hugging his butt tightly, a very thin layer of fabric enduring incredibly powerful blasts. I'm surprised he didn't tear a hole through his underwear with such raw, powerful farts!

It’s like he knew I was staring, because he moved closer to me, his ass now touching my leg, dangerously close to where my crotch is. 

Now I was the one shaking under Dave’s power, as my friend started farting on me. The fart being ripped so close to my boner was a surreal experience and I felt like my dick was gonna blow, as if it was being struck by an earthquake that it couldn’t endure. Loud, long and proud, my bro’s farts never disappoint. Whether kinks are involved or not, one can only bow to such incredible skills.

My friend still kept me under the blanket as he filled the bed with poisonous gas. I started to cough, which only made Dave laugh like a jerk in response.

This one fart lasted around 9 seconds, but even though the ass was done talking, Dave still kept me under there, making my nostrils burn. He wasn’t directly farting in my face, but somehow this felt worse, stench-wise. There really was no way the gas could get out of that gas chamber made of blankets and I struggled to breathe. 

Now my bro showed off by ripping a quick series of loud, short toots, probably yet another big fart that he’s trying to rip in small doses, further proof of how “crafty” he could be when it came to fart-control.

“You know what…” he said, as the fart stopped.

I could feel he letting the blanket go, so I could easily get out of that gas chamber… but I didn’t want to, because I’m a mess and I wanted to see what Dave had in store for me for this torture.

He adjusted his position and, making sure my head was still under the blankets, he turned his whole long body around, wrapping his legs around my chest and face, fully planting his boxer-clad ass on my cheek. Oh, the pattern was made of hearts, not stars, how peculiar...

I instinctively sniffed and obviously the ass was warm and raunchy, given how much my friend has been farting. However, that wasn’t enough, as I felt him push, resuming the previous fart where it left off, this time however ripping it all at once, not in small doses like before. I just accepted it, I was basically Dave’s fart slave at this point and I didn’t mind. I just appreciated how chill he was, feeling like I was living the most beautiful dream (and nightmare, somehow).

The fart stopped after about 11 seconds.

As my face was completely planted in my friend’s ass, I even struggled to speak.

“I mean… we are in room 669 after all.” I said, trying to make an obvious joke.

I could hear Dave appreciate my dry sense of humor. “Ni-Nice.” he laughed, and then treated me with another quick blast which truly tested my eardrums, other than my nostrils.

Finally, it looked like he was done, as he laid next to me like a normal person. He even lifted the blanket, because I was too horny to do anything apparently. In the dimly-lit room, I could still see his usual smirk as he stared at me, amused by how much of a weirdo I am… or rather by how weirdos we both are in a way.

In terms of stench, the situation outside of that gas chamber wasn’t that different, but it was probably because my nostrils absorbed so much gas that it was impossible for me to sniff anything else, for a while at least.

“You still have to buy us beers though.” Dave said. “This doesn’t count as a celebration.”

“You sure?” I promptly replied. “I did hear the fireworks.”

“Yeah.” he said. “And you sure smell like one.” he cackled.

He then turned his back to me and went to sleep, wishing me goodnight as if he didn’t just rip tons of farts in the face of someone who has a fart kink. As usual, I wanted to thank him, but ironically enough he seemed more annoyed by me being thankful than my fetish, so I just relaxed, trying to ignore my massive boner, and went to sleep myself.

A couple of hours ago, Dave’s boss asked me what are some of my strengths: if “being able to endure my straight bro’s powerful farts” is considered a legit strength, then I’m gonna be CEO of The Company by next week.

End of Episode 23

[alieinthemorning]

Always Here [Miya Atsumu]

Content: Established Relationship, Married Couple, Depression, Familial Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Header: @/tsumoos

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Miya Atsumu was a strong man. Not only was he strong physically (which he had to be as the MSBY Black Jackals Setter), but he was also strong emotionally for you. When you had bad days, he was there to support you. When you could barely keep your head above water, arms failing against the tides, he grabbed your hand, and pulled you back in. Saving you for yourself. However, he wasn’t the strongest. No one was. And although you also extended your hands out to him, sometimes he needed a second pair.

“Samu…” You hated to bother him on his day off, but some things were worth it.

“I’m on my way—” You heard shuffling on the other side of the line. “Has he said anything to ya?”

You sighed, bottom lip wobbling. “No, and that’s what’s worrying me the most. He just came home crying—I don't even think he noticed that he was.”

“…Okay, stay on the line with me, will ya?” You knew that he only asked because you yourself were on the verge of collapse.

Osamu was such a good brother to the both of you. You pocketed your phone as the urge to fiddle with your wedding band became stronger. You don’t know what you’d do with Osamu to keep the both of you afloat, but you also felt terrible for always needing him to help you. If you were a better person, then—

“Talk to me. I can hear ya overthinkin’ from here.”

“…sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I understand what yer going through. Anyway, lemme tell ya about a costumer I had yesterday—” And then he changed the subject just like that.

You chatted with him until he knocked at your door. He looked the same as always with that black cap, and deadpan expression, but his gaze was full of worry, already looking you over. And seeing him…made you break down. You bit your lip hard as you rushed him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. His arms immediately wrapped around your frame.

“It’s okay. I’m here now—for the both of ya.”

“I know…thank you, Osamu.”

He pulled you back, a grimace on his face. “Ew. Don’t call me by my name like that—It’s weird.”

You chuckled, despite the tears that were still freshly rolling down your cheeks. “Sorry, Samu.”

“He in the bedroom?” He asked as he fully pulled away from you. You nodded, and he entered your home, heading that way.

You shut and locked the door behind him, then made your way to the bathroom. You took a little extra time to compose yourself (as well as wash your tear stained face) before joining the two of them.

They were on the floor, backs against the bed with their heads peeking over the top. Samu was on the far side, closer to the wall, and when you joined them, Tsumu was in the middle of the both of you. The twins were shoulder to shoulder, so you dropped your head on Tsumu’s other shoulder. A firm way to let him know that you were there—the both of you were.

And after a few moments, his body relaxed, and he sighed.

“Thanks.”

But he didn’t tell either of you what was troubling him. And you’d just have to leave him be, and hope that next time he would open up to the two of you.

Because no matter what, the two of you would always be here for him.

Digs up a plot, so that I can push that we're only 5 followers away from the 750 follower event (and if we reach it before Valentine's Day then it can be Valentine's Day themed aka fluffy)

Anyway, that aside, I really love these two. I also love expressing big, strong men's vulnerabilities, and letting them know that regardless, they're loved. :3c

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Part 11)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of  Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 827

Imagine Series

Side Notes: 

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3.  Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

Astarion POV

I watched as she pulled her hand gently out of my grasp and pulled a bottle from her satchel, then bit her bottom lip between her fanged teeth for a split second.

“This is the antidote for the charming wine they’ve been giving you. I don’t have much other than this one bottle because there wasn’t much of your blood left in the vial.” She reached into the bag again and pulled out a vial with a small amount of thick red liquid sloshing slightly within the glass. I stared at the drow in front of me with amazement, which she returned with a look of confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Her question was hushed and spoke with a tone of embarrassment in her words. My hand raised itself to gently caress her face; the drow’s eyes filled with clear liquid that poured slowly over as she leaned into my touch but never broke eye contact with me.

“You still continue to amaze me.” The words rolled off of my tongue as I stood in front of the drow who has loved me despite every thing I have put her through. Looking at the bottle of antidote in her hand, I knew that the vulnerable spawn years ago had placed his trust in the right person when he held that dagger to her throat. “How long should the antidote work?”

“I believe the wine only stays in your system for about a couple of days or so from what I could gather in the short amount of time studying the concoction. The antidote should work about the same.” Her honeyed voice filled my chest with joy as I wrapped my hands around hers.

“Will the antidote still work if I consume the wine after drinking the antidote, or does it work like antivenom?” Her eyes scrunched with thought before she shook her head.

“It works like an antivemon--you need to ingest the venom first before you can use antivenom.” My head nodded in understanding before I stepped closer to the drow, placing myself between her legs. Her eyes darted every so slightly as she studied my face, searching for something unknown to me. “You’re in danger though, and I’m afraid we don’t have much time to prepare for what is to come. Ahriman is set on killing you for revenge on his daughter’s death. Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Perhaps during my time under the grimy thumb of Cazador, but I have not done such behaviors since you helped me ascend, my treasure.” Her eyes gave me a knowing look as she sighed heavily.

“I forget that people have no idea all of the shit you had to deal with so many centuries ago.” A smile found its way to my lips as she spoke. This woman had a true heart of gold, and I most definitely did not deserve to have the hold on it that I had. Sadness crept its way into my heart as I reflected on the feelings of loneliness and sadness I experienced during the whirlwind of memories (TAV’s name) shared with me moments ago.

I felt all of those feelings during my enslavement by Cazador, yet (TAV’s name) held on hope that I truly loved her. The thought must’ve made a frown come to my face because the drow in front of me caressed my face with a loving hand.

“I know that look. You need not to worry about the past, my love.” (TAV’s name) gave me a breathtaking smile, but she reminded me of another emotion she had unknowingly shared with me: her hunger.

“When was the last time you fed, my darling?” I asked in a low voice, which caused surprise to flash on the drow’s face for a brief moment before her face twisted to a look of embarrassment. If she had still be living, I know her ash blue cheeks would’ve turned to an ash purple.

“I may not have fed since you tasked me with finding the blood thief.” She bit her lip before she sheepishly replied to my question, and my eyes widened with surprise. It may have been a couple of centuries since I was a spawn, but I do remember the hunger pains vividly. For a brief moment, I thought about fussing at her, but another devilish thought crossed my mind.

She deserves a reward--especially after all the shit she’s put up with for the last century. Grasping her hands firmly, I pulled her to stand on her feet. Confusion etched into the drow’s perfectly sculpted brows, but she obeyed nonetheless as I led her inside my bedchambers.

“Go start you a warm bath, my dearest treasure.” I didn’t look at her as I walked to the doors and locked them. I didn’t want that damn fae to interrupt us and ruin the sweet reward that my treasure had no idea she was about to receive.

[filmofhybe]

Chapter 9 - the one that dated him?

> pairing : Nishimura Riki x Female Reader

> genre : college student AU! , Pool Lifeguard AU! , smau , fluff

> warnings : SLOW BURN!! , swearing , bad humor jokes , kys jokes (die etc) , kissing , semi verbal bullying (no violence) , reader! injuring herself by accident , missing parent figure

> chapter synopsis : As break has ended, all student are finally back to school once again, which also means some new faces. Including Isabelle.

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comment or reblog to ask be on the series taglist.

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( I also just want to mention that this series is kinda slow burn, so if your not into slow burn or plot lines that can take a bit to develop than this story is probably not your cup of tea. But I do recommend checking out my other works if you want, enjoy!! )

Word count - 462

“oh my gosh intak just pick a shoe? It isn’t a fashion show.” Everyone was standing outside the boys dorm right now, all because Intak can’t pick his shoes because apparently his fit needed to be “sandwiched”.  This would be a understatement right now because the school meeting at the hall would be ten times more important than some stupid shoe.

 

“Gosh I’m done let’s go!” Intak stumbles out of the door before locking it as the group walk towards the hall, chatting about what they should have at the restaurant after the meeting. The hall was crowed with people, with familiar faces all around once again. Lots of people went up to the group for a reunion hug and catching up. Y/n was distracted over Niki’s text, saying he would be waiting for her around the very back corner of the hall with his friends. Maybe I should go check?..

“Guys I’ll be back in a few. Please save me a seat.” y/n informed before stepping away from the group and walking towards the back corner of the hall. As she continues to walk towards the back, she sees a tall boy with black and blonde hair, wearing a loose plaid shirt and baggy stylish jeans. He was in a group, y/n assume it was his other six friends. She quickly walked towards him and tapped on his shoulder, which caused him to turn around.

“Omg hi y/n!” Niki heart was beating so fast, what do you mean this would be their proper first talk in real life? Y/n wearing that white strap top with a beige skirt and white platform but is still shorter than himself made him go feral. “Hi Niki! I’m doing well is nice to finally and actually talk to you.” Y/n chuckled before greeting the others until she saw the new girl. Wait isn’t she-

 “Oh this is Isabelle. One of my childhood friends And Isabelle, this is y/n.” Niki introduced. That’s when your mind clicked. Isabelle. You know who she is, the girl who got with the guy you used to like, all because she was pretty but also because she spread a really disgusting rumor about you, which made everyone dislike you.

 “Well don’t be so rude and greet me?” Her voice made you cringe so badly that you didn’t say much before shaking her hand with a firm grip. You can tell the boys feel the tension between you both. They have never seen you greet someone without a smile.

 "Well, is nice meeting you. I think it is my time to go. I’ll see you soon.” You said as you left, anger was building up inside of you. Because now you have to deal with another problem when you already have ninety-nine.

Niki’s POV:

When y/n left, the tension between everyone thickens. “Ugh how rude is she..” Isabelle said. But no one makes a remark about it. “Well me and Jay are gonna sit down now I’ll see you all later.” Sunghoon said before walking towards y/n group of friends. The others nodded as they follow on another.

“Do they not like me or something?”

“I just think they are tired. Is okay I’ll sit with you..”

“Aww your the best Riki let’s go!”

series taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @haechansgf @txtistheloml@skepvids @syuuji @oshakyao @haechansbbg @en-happiness

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