#which was me i was crying and an absolute mess and saying god's name after every word my mouth spoke like SAVE ME PLEASE.

[channoticedmeuwu]

traumatized but at least I'm not taking chem for the summers

[ronearoundblindly]

Not In Front of the Fish...

Jake Jensen x roommate!Reader follow up to Watch the Fish (see previous or JJ Masterlist)

Summary: You've caught Jake doing something he shouldn't, but there's no reason you can't string him along...and along...and along until the line snaps.

Warnings for smut (many references to masturbation, protected sex), horrible puns (yes, hello, I'm Ro, welcome!), heavy innuendo, trolling this poor boi as hard as humanly possible, taking the lord's name in so much vain, kinda *aggressive* foreplay, aftercare, fluff, and whipped!Jake (deserves a warning because I sure as sh*t wasn't prepared 🫠).

Blame @bigtreefest...or thank Essie, ya know, whatevs! No beta, we die drowning in the fish tank. MINORS DNI. And yes, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, the glasses stay on 🤭 Y'all may not realize this but I myself am an ultra-awkward nerd, so I identify with Jake's struggle and yet would absolutely, endlessly tease this mothaf**ka.

"Hey, Jakey. Whatcha doing?"

Well, thank fuck he's not still hard standing there with his metaphorical dick out, the last image from your laptop's screen seared into his eyeballs of some woman taking a load in her open mouth.

"Need me--" you steadily lick vanilla ice cream off a spoon, some caught at the corner of your wide open lips "--for anything?"

He stares. He stares so intently he almost falls over. Apparently, he's leaned into his staring.

"My help, perhaps?"

Your tongue rolls across the edge of the refilled spoon.

He thinks maybe he'll cry if you keep this up, but for the love of Christ, please keep this up.

"No," he squeaks. "Just..." Must you be wearing short-shorts? Is it essential that your tank top dip so low? "...saying 'hi.'"

His hand flings out in a wave, five fingers managing to point in eight different directions because he can't commit to any sort of normal human movement.

"So... Hi."

Some ice cream drips off the spoon down your chin and to your chest.

Jake is not here right now. Jake has died.

"Sure." You wipe up your mess and keep eating. "Sweet dreams, big guy. You look ready to hit the sack after a long...satisfying...shower." You let the spoon dangle from your mouth while brushing past him, which you have to do. You have to touch him because Jake can't fucking move for the life of him, and he swears to god you made your hand sweep across the front of his hip.

He jolts to follow the contact before overwriting his hind brain. His hand slaps the wall as he catches himself trying before collapsing into a begging puddle at your feet.

He should tell you. He'd rather die.

He should admit what he's done, admit what he wants to do, but when he stops pinching his eyes shut for strength, Jake turns to find you bent over in the doorway.

"Hello, sweethearts," you coo to the fish, "what would you like to do this evening? Maybe watch another movie?"

You wiggle your butt and make this happy sort of popping noise that Jake can't unhear.

Fuck, is this a thing he's gonna have to deal with now? Listening to you watching porn? His mind instinctively scans your room for a glimpse of any toy you may have left out. He's dying, yeah, but dying to know what they look like, if he's bigger than whatever you bury inside you now.

"Jake," you repeat in a breathy way that has him swallowing his tongue. You've stood back up, holding a bowl with oozing white liquid that teeters close to the edge as it melts.

His dick could top that off in jiffy if you'd like.

He coughs. "Yeah, uh, what?"

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Fuck me, every muscle, bone, and braincell in his body screams at once.

All he manages is an anatomically-correct impression of a fish. No sound comes up from his desperate lungs. He flees to his room.

He hears you shut your door just as he shoves down the shorts he threw on and grabs a squirt of lotion from the bottle nearby.

Too many images speed through his brain all at once, cum and cream, sex and porn, your open mouth, your presented ass, that peek of cheek beneath soft fabric, the shadow along the seam where the material ran right through your folds--probably, at least, he's filling in gaps wherever he pleases--and the breathy sounds of 'Jakey' 'need me' 'help you' 'satisfying,' and 'anything.'

"Fuck me," he growls out in earnest, sparing no trick to get himself off as fast as possible. Maybe if he's quick he won't learn exactly how hot he finds all this. He already relies on you as the voice in his head.

It's like you're right there on the floor with him, cupping his balls and whispering in his ear.

So hard for me, huh? So heavy and in need of attention. Why did you wait to fuck your fist, Jakey? Had to hear me? Think of this dick filling me better than any toy...

He gasps and groans, shoving his face into the nearest side of mattress to muffle the carnal sound.

It puts his ear right next to his discarded headphones.

"Daddy was so rude just then, huh? I know. He's shy. He'll come see you tomorrow. He just needs to be all alone in his bed when he's tired. I know, I know. It makes mommy sad, too. She doesn't like to be all alone, but that's why I have you. Look at the camera and wish daddy goodnight..."

Oh, fuuuuuuuuck me, Jake wails into his sheets when he hears the sound of you blowing a kiss through the speakers.

Poor thing doesn't know you're torturing him on purpose, but at least he came...with his bare knees aching on the hardwood floor of his room and the nosepiece of his glasses digging into his eye sockets as he buries his shame in his bed.

You suggest he have the fish in his room for a while, like shared custody, but then he knows you would have access to listen to him via the livestream.

If he tells you you have to mute it every time, you'll know he might not have. If he refuses to keep the feed up or the camera functioning, you'll be suspicious of why. If he says fucking anything against your very thoughtful and adorable idea, it'll be a cold day in hell since he will endure all forms of torture just to see your elated smile as the tank is finally setup between his closet and his bed across the room from his desk.

The keystrokes from his work are too faint for the camera's microphone, and he proceeds to wear headphones for music, take calls outside, and never touch himself in his own room for weeks. Ok fine, two, he makes it two weeks.

Deprived of hearing you, which he grew rather dependent on, and needing to inconspicuously lengthen his showers, Jake is a mess.

Why didn't he record anything? Why would he??? He was supposed to get himself together like a man and either ask you out or get the fuck over it.

He even watches (but mostly listens to) porn through his headphones without touching himself in an attempt to fade the memory, but then you show up at his door, asking to visit with the 'kiddos' and checking with the Marauders if 'daddy' is treating them well.

He's not gonna make it, man.

You settle on his bed to read for a while because why the fuck would he say 'no' to you, and this is the part that does Jake in the most: his sheets smell like you after and turning in his desk chair to find you accidentally asleep in his bed just... He can't.

He's unwell thinking about how sweet you are, how fucking horrible he's being by fantasizing about you this way, how if he just had the balls to crawl over to kiss you, he'd--but he doesn't. He just gets worse.

He gets real messed up horny one evening when you're out at some fancy event with friends.

You leave wearing this dress that practically had him on his knees the way it molded to you and yet draped so smoothly in places. He thinks of his mouth molded to you that closely and his body laying so smoothly over yours.

Damn it. He has to do something. He goes into your room, and it's not that bad, he just picks up a t-shirt, that's all. He's not the world's worst perv or anything. It's not underwear, for god's sake, but on a fluke (because he has no idea how long he was in there) he climaxes at the sound of you yelling 'I'm home' from the kitchen and scrambles to the bathroom with his gym shorts wrapped around his thighs, hand still catching spurts of cum as he for sure doesn't calm down, with milliseconds to spare.

Thank fucking god you're slower to climb the stairs in heels.

He takes it back. He is the world's worst perv.

Your t-shirt mysteriously disappears until he can sneak it back into your laundry.

He runs out of floss and absently searches your drawer for--oh my god.

OH. MY GOD.

That...is a large, veiny dildo you have there. Oh fuck.

Jake slams the drawer shut without thinking.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just...just gotta put floss on the grocery list."

"Use some of mine," you call out casually.

"It's fine!" His voice was too high and he answered too fast, but if he's not mistaken, you have now invited him to poke around in your things.

He feels slightly less pervy...and a hell of a lot hornier.

It reaches a point where coming in the shower isn't enough.

He falls asleep ok but wakes restless and craving friction. There's want and then there's need, and Jake fucking needs this or he'll never rest.

He goes on as quietly as possible, thinking that getting up, going to the bathroom, and turning on the exhaust fan will make far more noise than humping his sheets and biting his pillow.

The fish tank glows as usual at the foot of his bed.

Look away, kids, Jake thinks and immediately doesn't know whether to be sick or laugh. Daddy is gonna fucking die like this.

He knows it's pathetic. The entire thing has been pathetic from start to finish, but he's just too tired and too het up to care.

A few whines escape the insulation of his pillowcase. He misses the gentle patter of footsteps down the hall.

There's a soft knock followed by "Jake?"

God damn it. The one time he gives in, and he's already ruined it.

He tucks himself up into the band of his boxers which is not exactly subtle but can't be helped. Jake rolls out of his bed, finding his glasses in the dark to crack open the door with his body strategically behind it.

"Yeah, what's up?"

He can't make out a whole lot in the low light, but you don't say anything. Your arms are spread out to hang on either side of the frame, making your (again) very low-cut tank top his only focal point.

Well now he's sorta worried this has absolutely fuck-all to do with his problem. "Are you okay?"

"I...I thought..."

Your voice is soft and timid. It makes Jake want to wrap you in his arms, but he's still worried that you'll say you heard him and it's not okay and he's gross and this is all way, way out of line.

He holds his breath to better listen.

"I hoped you would have needed me by now."

What. Air rushes out of him like he's been tackled.

Sorry, WHAT?

"What?" the question finally falls out as he leans intensely again, shifting so the door doesn't slam in your face, his bare chest and lower half now visible as much as they can be. "You...what now??"

Your arms fall and you step forward. It looks to him like you move with trepidation, that your head is lowered in embarrassment, that somehow you're shy about your confession. Maybe you are, but only the tiniest amount compared to him.

"Tell me if I'm wrong, Jake." You slap one hand to his chest with a crinkling noise, and he swiftly moves to take the wrapped condom. "Tell me if you don't want this," you continue, lowering your voice and hand until your thumb grazes the exposed head of his cock.

Lightning strikes and super-charges his need.

"But if you don't th--"

He'll be damned if you finish that thought. Jake scoops your jaw into one big hand, angling you just-so, barreling you both into his door as it swings into his closet with a wobbling bang. He's clumsy and his grip goes everywhere to bully you flush with his body yet not drop your timely offering.

His kisses are feverish and sloppy. By the feel of you groping at his back and shoulders, you're not mad about it. He fumbles with the wrapper behind your back. It takes his attention away for a few seconds.

"I prepped for you," you whisper hoarsely. "I'm ready."

Jake has no legs at that point and takes you with him in a heap to the floor. While stripping away his boxers, he realizes his naked ass is high in the air of his room.

All he can see in his mind is fish pressed against the glass, staring, judging. Gah, not here.

He maneuvers into your hold again and says, "hang on," crawling to the hall runner so the 'children' won't see. No, he can't make it any further because his length is snuggled between your fucking thighs and somehow the hallway is a fucking mile long to your room. No, he's not immune to your whines from where your head is tucked in the crease of his neck.

Here's fine.

As gracefully as he can, Jake collapses onto you, collecting the noises he missed so much directly from the source.

For being made of such little fabric, your shorts are in his way, and he's genuinely annoyed to have to lift from you again, even though it's necessary to discard them and necessary to get the now-open condom rolled along his aching cock.

His glasses are already smeared from haphazardly exploring your skin. If Jake couldn't see before, he's all but blind now. The only garment close enough to try and clean them is your tank top, but he ignores it because it's still dark. He needs to feel you more than anything else in the world.

Lightly, your fingertips flicker down his abs and lead him to close the gap between you.

Jake groans as he lines himself up and easily notches into your welcoming heat. As aroused as you are, he still edges himself deeper and deeper in barely-controlled strokes, grabbing the railing at his side for leverage and stability.

He grunts instead of articulating how magnificent you feel. He moans instead of voicing what an utter blessing it is to finally fuck you. He gasps with the rolls of your hips because you taking control while beneath him just...unravels him.

This was too long coming, and he wasn't prepared.

Jake's apology for being fast to finish perches at the tip of his tongue when you cut off his words and the last of circulation to his brain.

You shake and pant, mewling 'yes' and his name, while your body squeezes him like a vice. He's being pumped to completion without moving another muscle, and, good fucking god, he has to hang on, falling to his forearm, keeping his open mouth hovering over yours.

Jake thinks maybe he just drowned and got brought back to life.

Right there, in his face are your precariously covered tits, nipples rock hard and taunting him. He doesn't care what his dick's doing anymore; he wrenches a strap down your chest and lavishes your plush flesh with attention.

Too long coming and in no way prepared... Neither were you.

Your hands brace his head, fingers buried in his short hair as you wiggle and hump at his semi-stiff cock inside you. Jake hisses in over-stimulation but doesn't stop you. He swears he will never, ever stop you.

His attentions on your breasts slow but he can't seem to let you go for a long time, long after your legs fall away from him, limp and twitching.

A pair of goodbye pecks is his parting gift before Jake nuzzles up the column of your neck and takes what little breath you've regained, curling his arms around you as his tongue curls with yours.

When he adjusts again, he realizes how sore he's getting from kneeling on the floor, and sits up to help you, too.

"Let me get--I'll just--"

Jake can almost reach a towel inside the bathroom from this position with his long arms, but he's sure to warm up the tap and trash the condom before returning to gently wipe you. He may have made a quick pass at his lenses in there as well.

You look dazed and delightfully sated, basking in the streak of light from the bathroom, leaning on your palms like you're on a beach somewhere.

"Fuck, you're stunning," he says without thought.

He...lingers a while to clean you up, overtly mapping these bits of you he hasn't seen yet.

"What took you so long?"

Jake tosses the towel up into the sink behind him and manhandles you into his arms.

"I might've ruined everything." He starts to lower you into your bed, but you don't release your arms from around his neck. "You could've kicked me out."

He's not going to argue. He won't say 'no' to you.

"Come here, you dork. You can't keep me waiting anymore."

Jake climbs into the cramped, cozy space with you, mentally noting that a bigger bed is definitely on the shopping list.

A/N: I am strategically leaving out my thoughts on the next morning for now because I'm just too excited, eeeee!

[Next part: Feed The Fish]

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Red Flags

Oh my god I've been so burnt out I'm so so sorry but I WROTE SOMETHING FINALLY

“Right, so…” Lily starts, settling down in front of the others with a coffee in hand, “what are we thinking?”

“I have a feeling we’re all thinking the same thing,” Mary says, shaking their head to themself. As Lily glances around, everyone nods in agreement.

Remus Lupin has terrible taste in men.

It’s an infamous fact among the group, really. Somehow, Remus manages to find every weird, rude, and downright horrible man on the face of the earth. He's not stupid, but he is impressively good at ignoring all of the warning signs. Lily remembers, more than once or twice, picking up the pieces, shouting at the exes, even stopping Remus from taking them back. It always sucks to see him that upset, and Lily just couldn't take it anymore.

So, they've developed a system.

It involves a lot of internet stalking, going through social media after social media, looking for pieces of evidence, things they can mention directly to the guy in question. If they can figure out if they're exactly the same as the others, which they usually are, they can scare him away before it’s too late. Remus isn't exactly… aware, of their system, but it works, and they need it to keep working. It's better that Remus is a little upset that his boyfriend of two weeks has ghosted him, rather than a painful betrayal.

This newest guy, though? They can't find anything.

“You’d think someone with the name Sirius fucking Black would have something slightly shady on his socials!” Marlene says with a groan.

“I mean, the name’s red flag enough, right? Everyone knows the Black family,” Peter says, but James is intervening before anyone has a chance to agree.

“Hold on, they essentially got rid of him five years ago. I don't know that we can still hold his name against him.”

Yeah, that makes sense. Unfortunately.

“Okay, well… what does he do for a living?” Mary tries, only to get a good few shrugs.

For someone who posts ten times a day, this guy is really quite quiet about his private life.

“I think he's a doctor,” Peter says eventually. “That’s what I found when I looked him up. Pediatric Surgeon?”

“Oh, so he literally saves kids lives,” Marlene says, exasperatedly throwing her hands in the air. “I'm sorry, he can't be Mr Perfect! This isn't how Remus works!”

Lily wants to say that maybe it is, maybe he's turning a corner, but she bites her tongue. They don't actually know anything real, anything substantial, about this guy. All they know is that he grew up in a very prominent family, and can build a careful social media presence. That means nothing.

They need to dig deeper.

“You know what this means, right?” Lily says grimly. “We have to meet him.”

Remus knows exactly what his friends are up to.

They think they're so brilliant at hiding their little… background checks on anyone he even so much as mentions wanting to date. Well, he can't exactly blame them. He's dated some absolutely horrendous people, and he knows that. Showing up at Lily’s as a crying mess wasn't exactly his finest moment, so he gets why they're so concerned.

Sirius, though? God, they’re never going to have to worry again. For a good few weeks, Remus had thought he'd made Sirius up. He's never fallen for someone as quickly as he's fallen for Sirius, even though they're taking everything so slowly. Honestly, he'd move in with Sirius tomorrow, if he asked, but Sirius is too good to ask that so soon.

That doesn't stop Sirius from panicking a little, as Remus keeps setting the table for dinner with his friends.

“What if they hate me? I mean, what if I set a really bad impression and they hate me forever-?”

“They definitely won't hate you. Believe me, you'll click with them. Especially James. I have a feeling he's going to love you.”

James is always the most supportive. He at least tells Remus before the others start to interrogate them.

“But what if-”

“Hey, don't panic.” Remus reaches out and takes both of Sirius’ hands in his. It sends a little thrill through him, the way Sirius’ breath catches in his throat. “Just… don't feel intimidated when they start asking too many questions, and you'll be fine.” Sirius nods once, and Remus squeezes his hands reassuringly.

There’s a knock at the door before they can kiss.

Remus groans as Sirius drops his head onto Remus' shoulder. He takes a breath and takes a step away, as Remus tries to quash the nerves. He knows how much they're going to love Sirius, but it isn't really helping. He doesn't want them freaking him out and scaring him off.

Still, it's too late to give them all the boot now, so, with a slight hesitance, he accepts his fate and opens the door.

“Hey, guys! You’re all here… at the same time,” he says, sticking a perplexed expression on his face. Mary smiles brightly as Remus steps aside to let them all in.

“What a coincidence, right?”

They’re really bad at hiding things.

James is the last one in, and Remus holds him back quickly.

“Please tell me they're not grilling him. Sirius is nervous enough.” He knows the answer already, but James shrugging apologetically only confirms it.

“They didn't find anything online. You know what that means.” Remus nods once, trying to bite back a groan. “They're doing it because they care.”

“I know. Just… please give him a chance. He's… Prongs, he’s amazing.” He watches James’ face soften, and it gives him the slightest glimmer of hope.

Maybe this'll be okay.

“So, Sirius…” Marlene starts, the moment they all settle at the table.

God, it's already starting.

“What’s your favourite thing about our Remus?”

Honestly, Remus is pretty sure that's a tricky question. He's never seen anyone answer it right. There's always something wrong with the answer. It almost feels like a cruel start.

“Oh, wow, I don't think I could pick!” Sirius says with a smile. “I mean, unless you let me pick everything,” he adds with a wink. It draws a smile out of Remus, and James is already positively beaming. The others, though, exchange a confused glance.

“What, so you can't think of anything?” Peter says disbelievingly.

“Oh, I just meant- I think everything about him is amazing.”

A blush immediately spreads it's way across Sirius’ face and, oh, Remus could look at him forever; could watch his face turn rosy until the end of time.

“What d’you think of his writing? Y’know, his breakout piece on euthanasia?” Lily asks, resting her chin in her hands.

“I thought his breakout piece was his intersectionality one?” Remus turns to him, stunned. He didn't even know Sirius had read any of his articles.

He's also right.

Christ, he must be ticking some kind of box for his friends.

“Right, this is stupid,” Mary interrupts Remus’ train of thought, and he's already dreading whatever they're about to say. “If you have any intentions of hurting him, we’ll quite literally kill you.”

“Mary!” Remus says quickly, his hand reaching out to grab Sirius’.

“No, he needs to hear this!”

“Why? Because you couldn't find anything when you looked him up?”

It's enough for the group to lapse into silence.

“Listen.” Remus forces himself to take a breath and slow down. “I know why you do all of this, and I get it. Really, I do. I appreciate how much you care. Sirius, though, he's… guys, he's wonderful. You don't have to worry this time.”

James nods, Mary also seemingly placated. The others, though, turn to Sirius.

Yeah, that makes sense.

“Honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I wouldn't dream of hurting him. I'm falling in love with him more every single day-” He cuts himself off with wide eyes, immediately turning to Remus.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

“You love me?” Remus asks. It's almost like his friends just… vanish, in that moment. All he can see is Sirius, sitting beside him, telling him that he loves him.

“Shit, I didn't mean to say it like that!” Sirius groans, his face reddening by the second.

Okay, accidentally telling him that he loves him.

“I wanted to plan something nice, think of the right thing to say, not just- God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for this-” He buries his head into his hands, muffling his panicked rambling.

“Sirius?” He tries quietly. Sirius just shakes his head minutely. It's really bloody endearing.

Remus is going to have to go about this differently.

Slowly, gently, he reaches out and pries Sirius’ hands from his face. He lets himself lace his fingers through Sirius’, as their eyes meet and Remus’ stomach flips.

“I love you, Sirius,” he says softly. “Christ, how could I not?”

Sirius’ face brightens in an instant, and Remus can't help but beam right back at him. He can practically feel the tension in the room lift.

He has a feeling his friends won't be worrying about him anymore.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Jealousy In Hell? Part 2.

Notice how she is not disturbing the cat who's occupied half the bed? Cat Supremacy. Although dogs are more affectionate.

What does his huge smile say now?

"I don't get nightmares, my dear, in fact, I give them to other people." He once on those days where he comforted you, he whispered.

You never told him, but you are not used to being around deranged, misanthropic people. So, Alastor gave you nightmares as well.

Two days back he found you curled up after coming from a night out crying, and you refused to open up to him which made him worried because you were very open about letting people know how you feel at the moment.

"You are a mess, my dear, care to shed some light on what happened?" Alastor asked, stroking your hair, but all he got was angry sobs and angry punches.

So instead of stressing you out more he put you to sleep, to just let you forget the pain a little.

He stretched his staff thing when Mr. Petenious's egg friends were joyfully walking out, they instantly huddled together.

"What Boss, do you know our boss--"

"Wait which boss are you talking about Mike!" One egg said,

"Wait we have names; do you know we might have acid rain!" One egg screamed,

"Oh, Shit! will our eggshells crack open? Oh god!"

Alastor's eye twitched, "Yeah, about that so when you went to the club what happened to Y/n?"

"Uh she was so happy, with Angel and Charlie then she went somewhere saying it was very stuffy inside."

"Uh, Mike went with her too!" One egg said,

"We don't have names, right?" The one named Mike said,

"Uh after that," Alastor said cutting the banter he found too noisy for his liking.

"She didn't come back after that boss."

"Yeah, Y/n always comes back.'

"She did say that the night was really bad!"

He tried finding out more, but it was absolutely hopeless with those egg creatures. At this point, he couldn't tell if what they were telling were anything more than lies.

His best bet could have been to ask you. But you were resting and if possible, he would like to tear a soul and broadcast it of course, it had to be the right soul.

So, one of those nights, when you had just slipped into your nightwear, he comes in Suddenly, and quickly drags you outside, "Alastor- What-where are you taking me?"

You were teleported outside the cold wind, in some abandoned city. "Alastor, I'm not even dressed properly!" You said in a hushed tone.

"What's that my dear you are cold?" Alastor said, "Here you can take my coat.

Now, that his coat fits you more like robes because of the height, it also blocks out the cold. "Your coat is nice Alastor; it actually suits you!" You said taking some time to admire the coat.

You then looked at him abandoning that brief excitement you asked him again, "Alastor where are we going?"

"My dear, that night you had gone out some sinners dared touch you, and although I'm not too much for physical touch and all you must enlighten me about the perpetrator!"

"Alastor..." You sighed heavily. "I know I'm in hell by choice because a perfect afterlife should involve the people I care about, and I don't have any relatives, or parents I know so... just drop it okay?"

"And what if that happens again?" Alastor whispered, "I only need you to tell me who it is, and I'll take your revenge."

"Alastor it's not one sinner they are like a gang, who exploit people's souls to other powerful overlords who pay them a lot. They got really drunk and found me of everyone..." You didn't continue after that, But Alastor's eyes only grew more intense and darker.

"Do you know who they were?"

You slowly nodded, "Well isn't that great? You just made my work so many times easier now instead of those little egg things."

Alastor said that was enough for the day and he retired you to your bedroom, you asked him if you could give him his coat by the morning, and he just waved his hand in a yes manner.

Two weeks later, you woke up to excited voices in front of your door, they were loud and broke the peaceful morning when your door burst open, and Charlie ran inside.

"OH MY GOD!" OH MY GOD!" "OKAY, I NEED TO BREATHE, BREATHE." Charlie slapped herself,

"Angel! he has something to show you, EVEN ALASTOR'S THERE!"

"Guys calm down what's the ruckus about?"

"Charlie let Y/n at least take a breather, but yeah Y/n this is messed up."

"Messed up in a cool way." Angel corrected.

You had gone downstairs where you saw Alastor smiling more than he usually did,

You grabbed Alastor, he came as though he was anticipating the reaction.

"Whatever the matter my dear."

"Alastor, please don't tell me it's about that case!"

"It's not one dear, I broadcasted the entire gang." Alastor put his hand on your cheek. "Did you really think some petty sinners would really scare me?"

Then Alastor looked at you, "I was a bit startled when you told me that they were dealing with overlords, those chumps could only dream about it, what right now it matters is they are gone. So, take it easy."

You breathed in relief before you felt yourself getting lightheaded and slipped into his arms.

"My dear, how very scared were you? It could've been solved so much earlier if you opened your mouth.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

So. I have something FILTHY for your game. First off, ofc I'm playing hahah yes. And, I want the game master/lead wtv to be Shoko.

Picture this, Lil ol' me tied to a chair, blindfolded, at the absolute mercy of these much bigger, stronger people. Shoko sits in front watching as all these men encircle me. Let's just throw in a nice mix hmm yuta, chocos, nanami my fukinge husbando), gojo, toji, geto (my love my heart), god id love and adult yuuji too he'd be so enthusiastic and not even hear the timer and have to be dragged away from my body.

They can do whatever they want to me while it's their time and there's these two spinning wheels to choose. So one wheel has everyone's names and one has ejat they can do to me. And whatever it falls on that's what they have to do. There's only 2 (3) rules. No cocks in my pussy. And no making me cum. (And no anal because I hate it)

As far as time goes I think 10-15 minutes is good. A good TEASE.

And they keep going until I'm a crying and WHIMPERING mess. Unable to even form words except to just say please please please.

That's when shoko, who's been watching all this time, gets up and shoves a fat strap into my already weeping cunt. Pulling my hair back and fucking into me she'll have two guys suck and mark my throat and play with my breasts and a third play with my clit, sucking it and licking her strap at the same time etc. whoever is left behind can either jerk off on me or even use my hands to help them out. Until everyone has cum and is happy, after which shoko maneuvers me to sit on my face so I can eat her out.

🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈🏳️‍🌈🌈

Love wins! Happy pride! 🫶🏻🩷

Holy fucking god! Lawd girl you dirty! I love all of this! The wheels, the men, then the final fucking stroke, literally given by the talented Shoko!

My jaw dropped as I read this! I'm squealing in delight.

This is what I mean when I say send me thirsts. This what I mean when I say unleash your inner slut. I'm going to be thinking about this for the rest of the day.

Delicious.

And yes happy pride!!!! Love who you want to!!!! 🏳️‍🌈

Who else wants to play the game?

[wrathofrats]

maybe something with aether/ifrit/zephyr?

Ur right I love them

Trans ifrit is making a return because I can and who is going to stop me.

Basically ifrit rides aethers face and also is hopelessly in love with zephyr

-

Ifrits thighs tremble, feel like they’re on fire and could give at any moment. He can feel aethers hot breath on him and it’s enough to almost collapse him in the state he’s in. Fucked out and static on his mind he could barely even agree to another round but aethers sure if he didn’t get his mouth on him soon he might just die. Something drips down his thigh, probably a mixture of slick and aethers cum from just a couple minutes ago but he can’t bring himself to care when a rough tongue dives to chase it.

“Fucking sit” the ghoul below him growls before he’s pulled down roughly onto aethers face.

Its an immediate attack, an immediate overstimulation that causes his eyes to cross and a shaky whine to be ripped from him. Cunt basically fucked raw and sensitive being abused again by aethers tongue. Its borderline too much, but its much too delicious to say no. Not with the way aether is moaning into his clit like he could cum just from sucking on his little t dick. It’s a perfect little mouth full for aether, just long enough to suck on and tease to his hearts content, completely swollen with arousal.

“Eyes up wildfire” Zeph tips his chin up to look at them. “There you go sweetheart”

One day zephyr is going to kill him; he's almost sure of it. Just the pet names have him making even more of a mess of aethers face and god the view of them above him could really make him drool. Just their voice has him grinding down on aether for more.

Zephyr smiles down at him, his glazed over eyes barely able to maintain eye contact but god ifrit would do anything for even just the smallest amount of praise from them. Their long hair frames their face from where it’s fallen out of its bun from taking their own turn with ifrits pretty little body and ifrit is sure he could count every star just in zephyrs eyes. Even like this he can’t help but think about how beautiful he is.

“Open up ifrit” a drop of pre runs down their shaft and ifrit has to practically stop his own breathing to not immediately try and go after it. Zephyr taps the tip of his dick to ifrits spit shined lips, watches his tongue dart out to invite them in.

He’s always been a greedy thing, loves the attention he knows Zeph and whatever other ghoul zeph allows will no doubt bask him in.

Aether sucks particularly hard on his dick, grazes his teeth over the little nub which has ifrit almost falling off the bed, gasping and throwing his hands into aethers hair.

Zephyr strokes himself above him, let’s ifrit suck on their tip while they practically tease themself to attempt to align with aethers work, but with the way ifrits hips are moving they’re sure he won’t be long.

“Aethers got you real stupid doesn’t he? Just fucked the brain right out of you?” Zephyr teases, knows his fire ghoul is always weak to them treating him like this, like he’s stupid, nothing but a toy. Their thoughts are only confirmed by the fact that ifrit can barely even respond, a nod and some drool running from his mouth but that’s about it. Zeph starts stroking themself faster, the sight and sound of ifrit getting absolutely ruined almost enough to make them cum on its own.

“Sweet little thing aren’t you, bet you’re close aren’t you, gonna thank aether by cumming all over his face?”

Aether speeds up too, forces ifrit down harder and digs his nails into the soft meat of his waist and ifrit thinks he could scream with the stimulation. He can’t help but to rut his cunt down harder, so fucking close to the edge that he could cry.

“Cum with me wildfire” zephyr forces his head up to look at him by his hair. Ifrit sobs with his orgasm as Zeph cums thick and hot all over his lips and cheeks.

[daechwitatamic]

I. Your Wild-Running Heart || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

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

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

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

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

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

//

When your roommate bails last-second and leaves you completely in a bind for the new school year, your best friend Taehyung mentions that his friend Namjoon needs a place off-campus, too.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7k

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

Friday August 28 

“Please, no,” you beg. “Please tell me this is a joke. I can’t live with a man. Do you know what men are like?”

Taehyung, quite a specimen of man last time you checked, cocks an eyebrow at you. “Y/N,” he says flatly. “You’re doing it again.”

It meaning being dramatic, and you resent that implication.

You whine, shuffling your feet unhappily. “But Tae,” you say - okay, you whine. “If my roommate is a guy, then I have to wear a bra in the apartment, like, all the time.”

“Oh my god,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, completely over you. “Do you want my help or not? What are your other options right now?”

How nice of him to ask. 

You’d been so excited to lease an apartment off-campus for your final year of university, even more excited to share it with a girl in your writing program named Penny. You hadn’t thought twice about putting the lease in only your own name, but when Penny texted you - the audacity of her to not even call - to say she wasn’t going to return in the fall after all, you were stuck with the responsibility.

So, since Taehyung asked, your options are this: pay the entire rent by yourself (impossible), or find a roommate, fast. 

“Namjoon’s a really good friend of mine,” Taehyung tries again. “I am personally vouching for him that he’s not a weirdo or a creep. His building flooded and he’s in a bind - just like you. He’s nice, he’s smart, and he’s normal.”

“What about clean?” you prod. 

Taehyung shrugs. “Cleaner than me.”

You sigh. You know Taehyung is right - you need someone quickly, and at this rate you’re bound to only find creeps. At least this guy - even though he’s a guy, which is your main issue - has been vetted.

“You’re not very clean,” you tell your best friend.

He grins at you, guilty as charged. 

“Could we talk first?” you suggest, nerves churning. “Like, can I meet him?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. “Did you think I was going to drop the key off at his place and say ‘okay, have fun!’?”

“Maybe!” you cry, feeling a little hysterical. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes at you. “Want me to see if he can swing by the place tomorrow?”

The plan for the next day was originally for you two to load up your car through the morning, grab lunch somewhere, and then start moving your stuff into the apartment after you ate. 

“Yeah,” you answered. “That actually sounds like a good plan. Then he can see the apartment, too. And you’ll be there with me.”

“Actually a good plan,” Taehyung parrots with a scoff. “Please.”

After your lunch date, Taehyung drops you back home so you can finish packing. You’d packed a lot already - all of your big pieces of furniture were there already, your bedroom now just a mess of random piles of clothing and your bare mattress on the ground. A lot of what you still had were things you knew you’d need to use again during the days you were starting to pack - toiletries, electronics, that kind of thing. With a sigh, you turn on some music and start pulling hangers out of your closet. 

You think about your situation as you work. You’re disappointed about Penny - you’ve lost a roommate and a good friend, somehow. You’re nervous about meeting Taehyung’s friend Namjoon. You’re somehow both excited for and dreading the academic year starting - your final year, complete with a senior thesis course you’ll have to pass in June. And you’re excited for the apartment - your first one that isn’t an on-campus dorm. 

No campus security knocking on the doors, no RA going through your fridge for forbidden liquor bottles, no shared hallway bathrooms. With your own bedroom in the apartment, you’re guaranteed a space that is just yours, a sanctuary where you can have the quiet you crave and aesthetic you want, your own four walls that are completely your own. 

Taehyung’s apartment, which he shares with two friends, isn’t far from your new one - walking distance, actually. He’d offered you his couch there when Penny first bailed. But even if you took his offer, you’d be charged for breaking your lease, and you’d still have to find something more permanent - which would mean another security deposit, not to mention rent. As long as you kept the optimism that you’d successfully secure and keep a roommate, staying was the cheaper option.

You won’t talk about how you wish Taehyung would offer more than his couch.

You won’t talk about how when he’d said, “You know, you could stay with me,” in that deep, comforting voice of his, your heart had run wild. 

Then he’d continued, “That couch isn’t too bad to sleep on, I’ve done it before. And the guys wouldn’t mind. Then you’d have time to find something new, maybe something you can afford alone?”

And your wild-running heart had stuttered, stumbled, caught its footing, stood still. 

You can’t even get mad at him. He’s trying to help. It’s not his fault - at all - that he doesn’t know that your imagination leapt off a cliff at his words, was already picturing snuggling in his bed, those strong arms tight around your middle, was already picturing waking up to his sleepy smile. 

You don’t pretend for even a second that it’s anyone’s fault but your own. 

--

Around ten pm your Aunt Lin comes and knocks on your open door, looking down at the scene before her: you, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half-closed boxes, miscellaneous items strewn around the floor around you, clothing piled up like mountains around you.

“You don’t look very ready,” she remarks.

“That’s helpful, thank you,” you say. 

Lin has raised you ever since you lost your grandmother, who had taken care of you before that. Your grandmother and Lin are the only parental figures you can really remember, but Lin’s technically only ten years your senior and has always felt more like a big sister than a mother. You can’t fault her for it; she was still quite young when she took over raising you. She certainly didn’t have to take you in, but she had, and she’d done her best. 

Lin chuckles. “Why isn’t Taehyung here helping?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s my friend, not my servant. He’s helping me move all this in tomorrow, that’s plenty.”

Lin shrugs, already disinterested. “Okay,” she says lightly. “Well, I wanted to say good luck with the move, and good luck with school this year. Let me know if you need anything.”

You look up from your packing and take in her appearance. She’s in scrubs, a huge thermos of coffee in her hand. She’s got work tonight, then, and won’t be here in the morning when Taehyung picks you up. You should have figured. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

She shifts, looking down the hall instead of at you, suddenly. Lin’s not great with emotions; it’s where you get it from.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you for winter break? If not before?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Definitely by then.”

She nods, tells you goodbye, and heads down the hallway. You hear the front door close, and you’re alone with your boxes. That’s about as mushy as it gets with Lin.

[11:44 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: what time tmrw?

[11:45 PM] You: you drive the car, you tell me

[11:51 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 10?

[11:54 PM] You: you think that’s enough time to pack up the car and drive there before lunch?

[11:58 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄 this is why i asked YOU what time

[12:01 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 😤

[12:02 AM] You: 9:30 

[12:03 AM] You: and bring me iced coffee 🤗 plsssss???

[12:06 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

[12:08 AM] You: love u tete

[12:11 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah yeah love you too 

You press the top of your phone into your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting yourself pretend, for just a second, that he could mean it the way you do.

Saturday August 29

Taehyung shows up in the morning - at ten, not nine-thirty, but he has an iced coffee for you in his car, so you let him live. 

It takes you over an hour to load up the car, the boxes and suitcases and garbage bags squished together, shoved impossibly tight, the world’s most desperate game of tetris. Taehyung declares it impossible no less than five times, bemoaning that he’ll have to make the hour drive a second time in order to fit all of your shit. 

In the end, you make it happen. It just takes a little determination. 

The drive to your university is around an hour, depending on traffic. You and Taehyung both don big, goofy aviators and blast music as you sail down the highway, the backseat loaded floor to ceiling. The car is so stuffed, you even have boxes between your feet and on your lap. 

The sun shines brightly down on you as you and Taehyung sing and groove your way through the drive, and you feel… so content, so sure that this is right, that you’re meant to be next to him, like this, forever. Like everything in the universe just clicked together to give you the perfect snapshot of how things are meant to be. 

What if you said it? What if you told him? 

Sometimes, moments like now, you just can’t fathom how he doesn’t feel it too. 

But you know better. You know he doesn’t - doesn’t want to. Something deep inside you tells you to tread carefully with this best friend of yours. Something instinctual tells you that the dysfunctional friendship you’ve crafted together is a Jenga tower and if you so much as nudge the wrong brick, it’s all coming down. 

You eat lunch at a table out in front of a cafe, people watching and basking in the sunlight. It’s the last, trickling days of August, but today’s breezy and cooler. It’ll warm up again before fall comes in full force, you’re sure, but you appreciate the reprieve from the scorching heat, since you’re about to spend several hours hauling boxes up a stairwell.

After lunch, Taehyung drives to your new neighborhood and finds a street-parking spot close to the front entrance of the tall, brick building.

“Okay,” he says. “Now the fun part.”

You giggle. “Have I told you yet that I appreciate you?”

“Elaborate, please,” he says, which is so typical for him. He looks over at you, sunglasses low on his nose.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I appreciate you helping me move in. I appreciate you driving me. I appreciate the afternoon you’re about to spend carrying boxes and shit.”

“You’re forgetting something,” he tells you sagely.

You want to whack him in the belly for being so obnoxious, but you can’t risk him dumping all your stuff on the sidewalk and fucking off to let you deal with the stairs on your own. 

“I appreciate you finding me a roommate so I don’t have to sleep on your couch,” you add.

“There we go.” Satisfied, he unbuckles, and you both get out and examine the backseat for whichever Tetris piece seems like it could be removed easiest. Arms full of boxes, you make your way up the steps to the little lobby that houses a wall of mail slots, and then up a second set of stairs to your second-floor apartment.

You set down the box you were carrying and dig out the key, opening the door to your new home.

You really do love this apartment. Through the open space - past the kitchen and through the living room - sunlight streams in through the large front windows that overlook the city block below. You can already see in your mind where you’ll put plants on low tables, or hanging from the ceiling.

You had done the big stuff days ago, with both Lin and Taehyung’s help; Lin had rented a little moving van and you’d loaded up the big furniture. From Lin’s house, you’d taken your bedframe and boxspring, leaving just the mattress in your old bedroom at Lin’s house. You’d also loaded up your low dresser, a nightstand, and two bookshelves. You’d gotten a few pieces from a local repurposing store - a desk to work at and a little swiveling chair to go with it. Your final splurge was an expensive mattress; the one in the store had felt like damn clouds. It was set to be delivered sometime this afternoon. 

You’re already looking forward to going to sleep later.

You and Taehyung try to just put boxes where they’re meant to go. Two boxes end up in your bathroom, another two in the kitchen. You split the books between your bedroom and the living room, where a lone bookshelf is the only current piece of furniture. You heave bags of clothes and linens into your closet, determined to deal with them later. 

The mattress delivery goes smoothly, the truck arriving as you and Taehyung are about halfway done unloading the car. You leave the building’s front door and your apartment door propped open and both teams do their thing: the delivery guys carrying the mattress up the steps, you and Taehyung behind them with garbage bags full of your clothes or boxes of books. 

“You,” Taehyung pants, “have way too much stuff.”

You grin sheepishly, as in the other room your new mattress is removed from its plastic wrap and placed atop your awaiting boxspring. You’re itching to dig out your linens and make the bed; that’s always what makes a room feel ready to you, even back when you were just setting up a little dorm. Once the bed was made, everything else slowly fell into place. 

Once the delivery truck rolls away, you throw yourself bodily onto the mattress, letting out a series of happy groans as you let the pillowy goodness envelop you. 

“Taehyung,” you call tantalizingly. “Come feel it.”

You hear him drop a box in the living room with an audible oof - it must have been more books - and then he comes into your new bedroom and flops sideways across the bed next to you, the mattress jumping and settling again under his weight.

“Wow,” he says, rolling on his back and then turning to look at you, his legs bending to touch the floor. “This is nice. Let’s trade, I’ll bring mine over.”

“Nope,” you say, smiling. “I bought this one with my hard-earned summer money. It’s just for me.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice wry, “for you and your guests.”

Now you do whack him in the belly. He grunts, hands covering the spot, then lays still again.

“That wasn’t nice,” he comments mildly. “No hitting.”

“What guests?” you pout. “I haven’t had a guest since–”

“Ah, spare me the Great Drought of 2022 story,” he begs. He sits up, reaching into his pocket. As his hand retracts, you realize his phone is buzzing with an incoming call.

“Bro,” he says as a greeting, and then listens. “Yeah, we’re here now. That’s fine. Sounds good. Okay.”

He taps to hang up and looks at you. “Namjoon is almost here. That’s fine, right?”

“I was right here,” you huff. “Yes, it’s fine, but you literally could have asked me.”

Taehyung ignores you. “There’s one more box. I’ll go get it, and then I’ll stay while you meet with Joon, and then I’m gonna go, okay?”

“Oh,” you say, heart sinking a little bit. You’d kind of hoped he’d stick around, just hang out and goof off while you unpacked boxes and organized your stuff. “Sure.”

He reads you like a book; he always does.

“Don’t pout,” he says, and there’s something apologetic in his tone. “I just have to do some stuff today. And I really need to shower, this got me all sweaty.”

Well, you don’t need that mental image. Luckily, you’re saved from yourself by a knock at the front door. This strikes you as so polite, because not only is Namjoon going to literally live here, but also because the door is still propped wide open.

You sit up, fixing your hair from where you laid on it. Taehyung has already made his way through the living room and is giving a one-handed bro-hug to the guy at the door. You make your way over, heart thumping. 

You notice a few things right away. He’s tall - taller than Taehyung, and you don’t see that often. His eyes are absolutely striking - there’s sharpness to them, something that makes you want to see the world how he does, something that makes you want to keep looking, something that makes you curious about how he’d see you. 

When he smiles, each cheek dimples, the perfect size for the pad of your index finger. He’s all in browns except for a pair of light-wash jeans. He’s got a dark brown beanie tugged low on his head, and even his thin, wire-frame glasses seem to be chosen for the vibe above all else.

“Hi,” you say, sounding a little shy even to your own ears. Taehyung moves out of the way and you reach to shake Namjoon’s hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung promised me you’re normal.”

The guy lets out one big laugh, surprised. “He told me the same,” he says conspiratorially, “but really, that’s such a subjective thing.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, and you step back to let Namjoon in, preparing to show him around. 

“Kitchen and living room are here,” you say unnecessarily, since he can see for himself. “Your bedroom would be on this side.” You push open the door and Namjoon sticks his head in. The room is completely bare, the empty closet door standing open. 

“You get your own bathroom,” Taehyung points out. Namjoon nods appreciatively, still looking silently back and forth across the room that would be his as soon as you pass him a key.

“Is it okay?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. If this guy backs out, you’ll be back at square one, and now with less time to solve the problem.

“Oh,” he says, as if remembering he should communicate. “Yeah! It’s great.” He turns and peers at the living room, which is empty but for your lone bookshelf and several boxes of books, unopened.

“I have some stuff we can put here, if you want?” he asks, his tone a little uncertain. “Specifically, I have a couch and coffee table, plus a TV and a console to put it on. It should all fit.”

“That would be great,” you say enthusiastically. “I was already stressing out about saving up enough for a couch.”

He nods easily, looking around the room thoughtfully. Taehyung has wandered over to the large windows and is looking up at the tree that stands right outside, the branches waving lightly in the afternoon breeze. With the sunlight coming in, he looks like a painting. 

“I have a rug, too,” Namjoon muses. “Would you be interested in that?”

“Definitely,” you tell him, tearing your eyes away from Taehyung’s back. There’s something knowing in Namjoon’s face as he watches you, and you flush, feeling weirdly caught.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll bring it. What about kitchen stuff?”

“I don’t have a ton,” you admit, pointing to the two boxes - not very big ones - that you’ve left on the kitchen counter. “If you’ve got more, that’s probably good. I don’t cook that often, to be honest. I’m not very good at it.”

Namjoon smiles at you, leaning over a little like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I can barely boil water,” he admits. “So you’re all good.”

You stand together as you discuss how you’ll be splitting the monthly costs for the utilities, not to mention the high-speed wifi that’s getting set up in two days. That leaves you to work out the rent, what day it’s due and how you want to handle paying it. In the end, you decide that he’ll electronically pay you, and you’ll pay the landlord, since it’s your name on the lease. He pays you right there on the spot, and you pass him the key that was meant for Penny.

“Is it okay if I start moving my things tomorrow?” he asks you.

You shrug. “This place is yours now, too,” you say easily. “You can honestly do what you want.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll probably start in the morning then?”

“I can’t promise I’ll be up,” you laugh, “but don’t let that stop you!”

“Should we…” he pauses, adjusts his glasses. “Should we exchange numbers?”

Taehyung makes a face you know well; it’s the face he makes when he wants to laugh or make fun of something, and he’s doing the Good Person Thing by keeping the thought to himself, but he wants to make sure you know by his face that he is holding it in. He wants credit for doing the Good Person Thing.

You honestly hate him sometimes. It’s the only thing keeping you from tipping straight into insanity. Sometimes, I really hate Taehyung. 

“Yes, we probably should,” you say, because someone in this room needs to act like they aren’t twelve years old, and it’s not going to be Kim Taehyung, apparently.

You do, and then Namjoon tells you both goodbye, making his way back out to the hallway and down the steps. You can hear his footsteps fall away into nothing. 

Taehyung looks at you, smiles angelically. “See?” he says. “I told you he was nice.”

He reaches for his keys on your kitchen counter. You frown, detecting his imminent departure. 

“Will you come over tomorrow?” you ask, a little pitifully. 

He considers this, and nods. “For dinner?” he suggests. 

“Yeah,” you say. “We still won’t have wifi yet. We’ll be bored.”

“Only boring people get bored,” Taehyung says sagely, holding up one finger like a wizened philosopher. Then he comes to hug you goodbye, pulling you into a sweet embrace. You want to live there, in the spot between his arms. 

Once he’s gone, you look around your new home. Alone, you decide to put on music and start tackling boxes. You start in the bathroom, finding towels so you’ll be able to shower in the morning, unpacking all your toiletries, setting up your toothbrush just so. You do the kitchen second; the sun sets outside as you find places for your battered pots and pans. 

You stop for dinner, getting take-out from a place nearby that delivers. Then you dive back in, setting up your bedroom. It feels cozy already, once the bed is made and you’ve plugged in your little lamps. Calmer, you start folding clothes to put into dresser drawers. At one point you wander out of your room to get some water and you freeze in your bedroom doorway, struck by how lonely it feels. 

The rest of the apartment is lit only by the yellow glow coming from your bedroom, plus the thin, white light that filters in from the streetlight below the living room windows. You hurry into the kitchen and turn on the light over the sink, which vanishes some of the bad feeling for you. You pour your glass of water and lean heavily on the counter, looking out at your empty living room, and the dark doorway of Namjoon’s untouched room. You wish Taehyung had come back over, or that some of your university friends had moved back into the area sooner.

You rinse your glass and head back into your room, ready to distract yourself with more unpacking until you’re tired enough to sleep.

Sunday August 30

Bumps and crashes wake you in the morning. It takes you a few minutes to figure out where you are - ah, the cloud bed, in your new room. The morning sunlight is strong; apparently the windows on the front of the apartment face the east. You make a mental note to shop for some good blackout curtains, and check your phone. Not much waiting for you - Lin texted around 1 am asking if you got settled okay, probably while she was on a quick break. You answer her, check your socials, and then lay back, just looking around. 

You got a lot done yesterday, but you still have more unpacking to do. It also occurs to you that not only is there no coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, there’s no food of any kind in the whole place, unless you count your container of leftover takeout from last night. 

You shower and get dressed, figuring it's best to stay out of the way - you can hear the grunts and huffs and loud bumps that indicate Namjoon’s got some friends helping him move things in. But eventually, the growling in your stomach and your body’s clamoring for caffeine send you out into the living room.

The low entertainment center is in place across the room from you, a flatscreen tv situated on top. There are now two stools tucked beneath the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and a pretty, wooden coffee table sits in the center of the living room.

There’s a guy on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, a screwdriver, and a packet of instructions in his hands. You can hear a lot of shouting, bumping, and cursing floating in from the stairwell down the hall. 

“Hey,” the guy on the floor says. “You’re Y/N? I’m Namjoon’s friend, Yoongi.”

“Hi,” you say, a little bewildered. “What are you… building?”

He sighs, squinting at the paper in his hand. “It’s supposed to be a bookshelf. Eventually.”

You’re about to respond to this when the noise from outside the open door gets infinitely louder. You see Namjoon’s expansive back as he shuffles backwards through the doorway, one end of a faded, grey couch in his hands. 

“Okay, you have to turn,” he coaches whoever is on the other side.

The couch makes it through the door, and you’re surprised to see that you know the other person carrying the couch. He’s one of Taehyung’s best friends, and you’ve hung out together as a group plenty of times over the last three years.

“JayKay!” you call happily. “Welcome to my house!”

He laughs, nose scrunching with delight. “Y/N,” he crows. “Where should I put the couch?”

“Across from the tv,” Namjoon answers for you, sounding a little breathless. They shuffle through the room, and you notice for the first time that they’ve already put the rug in place, covering most of the warped, wooden floor of the living room. The couch settles over top of it, and Namjoon slides the coffee table to a more centered position.

One more guy comes through your doorway, carrying a nightstand and a lamp. He’s got quite possibly the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. He disappears into Namjoon’s bedroom, and you hear the quiet thump as he sets the nightstand down in there.

“Wow,” you say. “You’ve got a whole moving crew.”

“Notice who’s not here helping,” Jungkook grumbles.

You smile to yourself. If you know him at all, you’ll guess Taehyung isn’t even out of bed yet. 

“In his defense,” you say, and Jungkook snorts, as if it’s so typical that you’d defend Taehyung, which… it might be, “he did a lot for me yesterday. We had his car packed with my stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook mutters and turns to - presumably - get more stuff from downstairs.

“You have a lot left?” you ask Namjoon, who seems to be catching his breath for a minute, perched on the arm of the couch. “I’d offer to help, but I was just about to go get groceries - there’s very literally no food here.”

“We’re about done with the heavier stuff,” he says, looking at the open door, like he’ll find an inventory there that he can reference. “But still plenty of assembling left.”

“Hooray,” Yoongi deadpans from the floor, holding the instruction packet up in the air like a different angle will help him decipher the directions.

You find your little foldable cart and make your way to the grocery store a few blocks away. By the time you’re done scouring the aisles, you’ve loaded the cart to the top and still have to carry some of the bags. But at least now you’ll have food to eat, things to drink besides tap water. 

Getting up the stairs with your groceries sucks, but you make it, panting like crazy as you finally unlock the front door and let yourself in.

You’re greeted with silence; it’s clear the guys are all gone. The living room looks completely different than twenty-four hours ago. The couch and table look great, and it seems like Yoongi’s bookshelf is mostly complete - it’s upright, just missing a few shelves near the top. You set the groceries down in the kitchen next to three unopened boxes - it seems like Namjoon’s gameplan was the same as yours yesterday: get the boxes into the appropriate rooms, do the rest later. 

You peek into his bedroom - he’s left the door all the way open, which feels nice, like he trusts you, and you make a mental note that you should probably do the same. You notice that it looks like the furniture is all in place there, too. It doesn’t differ much from yours, actually. The bedframe is put together, the boxspring and mattress leaning against the far wall. He’s also got a tall chest of drawers, a wicker hamper, and in the corner, a desk. Namjoon’s furniture is a lot more modern looking than yours, sleek and matching. You bet he didn’t get half of his from the thrift store. 

You put the groceries away and make yourself a small lunch, eating it on the couch in the quiet of the apartment. You’ve got about twenty-four hours to go until there’s wifi and you can stream shows when you’re home alone. You’re just cleaning up your lunch when you hear a key in the lock, and then the cacophony of boys’ voices as they reenter the apartment. 

“-far superior, I’m telling you,” Jungkook is saying emphatically. The smell of greasy burgers and fries hits you in the kitchen along with the sound of his voice.

“I hear what you’re saying, and I respect your opinion,” a flat voice responds that you think might belong to Yoongi. “It’s just that you’re wrong.”

“Hey,” Namjoon says, noticing you standing in the kitchen. The guys pass through, heading into the living room, Jungkook already digging in the bag. They surround the coffee table, handing out burgers and fries, filling the room with delicious smells and noisy chatter.

You take this opportunity to head back into your room, sitting on your bedroom floor and opening one of your boxes of books, starting to put them on the small shelf beneath your window. You pop in your airpods and turn on music, losing yourself in the monotonous movement of digging out a new book, then turning to place it on the shelf. Rinse, and repeat.

When you finish, you move into your closet. You put your little wire shoe rack back together and locate your box of shoes, lining them up neatly. Then, you tackle another garbage bag full of clothes that go on hangers, flapping each shirt or dress to relieve it of wrinkles before hanging it up. After that, you find a box of miscellaneous dresser items - jewelry boxes, perfume bottles, headbands - and put those where you want them, too.

By the time you decide you need to sit down and take a break, it’s nearly evening, the light outside reaching that golden hour. You really do love the natural lighting in this place. 

You take out your airpods and set them to charge, listening carefully. You’ve had your bedroom door open this whole time, but the guys had left you alone and you’d minded your own business. Now, the apartment is filled with silence again. They must be gone.

You text Taehyung for the first time that day, which strikes you as weird. He must have been busy today, too. It’s odd for you two to make it until almost dinner without speaking.

“Dinner?” you text, and then wander out into the living room. 

“Hey,” a voice says from near the floor, and you practically leap out of your skin. You startle so violently that your phone slips from your hands and clatters to the floor.

“Holy crap,” you breathe when you realize Namjoon is sitting on the floor next to his newly assembled bookshelf, an open box of books before him. He seems to be sorting them into piles before putting any on the shelf.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I’m just… a jumpy person. You’ll get used to it.”

You watch him sort books for a minute, then eye your own empty bookshelf, your boxes still closed on the ground next to it. You decide if it’s Bookshelf Hours, you might as well, right? You set your phone on the coffee table and settle in, opening your first box and starting to place books on the bottommost shelf.

“So,” you say, because it feels weird to be sitting four feet from your new roommate and not speaking, “Taehyung said you’re a grad student at the university?”

Namjoon nods wordlessly, eyes on the books he’s sorting. “Yep,” he says finally. “And you’re a senior?”

“Mhm,” you confirm. 

After that scintillating conversation, you both lapse into silence as you work. You continue like that for some time - long enough to reach the middle shelf - before you realize you hear your phone buzzing on the table. You stretch to reach for it, missing how Namjoon glances sideways at you, at how an inch of your stomach is revealed as you lean over. 

“Hi,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Took you long enough to answer,” Taehyung gripes.

“Sorry,” you say. “We were putting books away.”

Taehyung’s silence is just one beat too long. “We, huh?”

You laugh, once. “I mean? That’s what each of us is doing? So? Yeah?” From his spot a few feet away, Namjoon glances over his shoulder, frowning slightly.

“Anyway,” you say, “dinner? Do you want to come over?” 

“Yes,” he says decisively. “Order us something and I’ll head over?”

“Sure,” you say, already hanging up. You don’t need to ask what he wants; no matter where you order from, you know what he likes. 

“Do you want to order with us?” you ask Namjoon mildly as you scroll through the local delivery app. “I was thinking pizza.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says slowly, like he was deep in thought and has to process what you’d said to him. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

The place you’d order from back when you lived in the dorms is actually closer to this apartment than campus, which is the most beautiful, serendipitous thing that’s ever happened in your life. You place the order for delivery and continue putting your books away. Once all the books are on shelves, you’re essentially done - finally, after two days - unpacking. 

This gives you exactly one whole day to relax before you have to start going to classes again.

Taehyung arrives before the pizza, knocking on the door in a silly rhythm. You pound back on your side of the door, echoing his rhythm, before opening it, greeting him with a big smile. You’d missed him; of course you had.

“Wow,” he says, genuinely impressed, as he peers around you. “It looks so much different in here.”

“Right?” you ask, filled with joy. Taehyung pokes his head into the kitchen, which is arguably the least “ready” room, as aside from putting your things into drawers and cupboards, neither you nor Namjoon had really done much to it. No hand-towels hanging by the sink, no magnets on the fridge, even the counters were empty, save for the two sets of keys resting there. Taehyung adds his own to the key pile and moves into the living room, which is much more impressive.

“Hey, man,” Namjoon says from the floor. It seems like he’s done sorting his books into piles and has started actually putting them on shelves now. “Looks good, right?”

“It does,” Taehyung answers from the doorway of Namjoon’s room, where he's peeking nosily. “The guys helped you?”

“Everyone except you and Jimin,” Namjoon says innocently. 

Taehyung smiles guiltily. “I helped Y/N the entire day before, just the two of us,” he argues. “And what about Hobi? He’s on--”

“--on vacation with his parents,” Namjoon finishes agreeably, “so he’s off the hook. Where was Jimin?”

“Where do you think Jimin was?” Taehyung scoffs, reaching down and touching the rug absently.

“Sleeping,” you and Namjoon say at the same time, both of your voices wry. You smile at him, and he looks away. 

The pizza arrives and you all sit around the coffee table to eat. Conversation flows better with Taehyung in the mix; he talks so much, it almost doesn’t matter if anyone else does. 

“I was thinking of making a list of things we need for the apartment that wouldn’t necessarily belong to either of us - cleaning supplies, stuff like that,” Namjoon says to you. “I thought I could buy it and we could split the cost?”

“Buy the cheap stuff,” Taehyung advises. “Y/N’s summer money is gonna go fast, especially the way she orders out instead of cooking.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say flatly, shooting him a look. “I start work in like two days. I can handle it.”

After the pizza’s done, Namjoon goes back to working on his bookshelf, obviously wanting to clear the floorspace of his book piles sooner rather than later. You and Taehyung sprawl across the couch opposite each other, his feet resting near your elbow, both of you on your phones. 

You stay like that until nearly midnight, talking occasionally but mostly just happily coexisting in your own little bubbles. At some point, Namjoon finishes the bookshelf and wanders into his bedroom, pausing to look at you two on the couch before disappearing. He pushes his door almost shut, leaving it open a few inches. You hear the subtle sounds of music playing from behind the door, but not loud enough to discern what it is. 

Taehyung hugs you before leaving, and you snuggle into the embrace, body exhausted from the moving process. He rests his chin on top of your head, swaying you around a little bit. 

“Thanks for helping me,” you murmur into his chest. Sometimes the only time you can get Taehyung to be serious for a conversation is when you’re like this; in each other’s arms, your walls come down - in his case, deflecting with humor and sarcasm, brushing off everything like it’s a big joke. In yours, saying what you really mean, and not a more delicate version of it.

“You’re welcome,” he answers, squeezing you a little. “I’m glad everything worked out. It really does look good in here. And I think you guys will get along.” 

Once he leaves, you deadbolt the front door and head to the kitchen to wash the plates and cups you’d used for pizza. Behind you, you hear the squeak of door hinges, and Namjoon pads into the kitchen behind you. He pauses, scanning the cupboards.

“I don’t remember which one I put my cups in,” he laughs a little, and then starts opening each one until he finds what he needs. Once he has a glass, he rummages in the fridge, taking out a juice carton and filling his glass about halfway. You finish washing the last plate and turn the water off, rummaging through a drawer for a dish towel to dry everything.  

“So…” Namjoon says between sips of juice. “You two are pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging easily. “He’s my best friend.”

Namjoon hums, nods, purses his lips thoughtfully. If you knew him better, you’d push - ask him what that face means, or why he’d asked in the first place. 

But, you don’t need to. You know already. You’re used to being interrogated by others about your relationship with Taehyung. Sometimes people are trying to see if you’re a threat in their quest to worm their way into Taehyung’s heart (or pants) - and in your own weird way, you kind of are, at least for the former. 

Taehyung definitely sleeps around, but he’s surprisingly tight-lipped with you about it. You’re not sure if he’s sparing you, or he’s actually just a gentleman. Could go either way. But when Taehyung considers dating someone - rare, to say the least - he always has you vet them first. You never like any of them, surprise surprise. 

You’re used to girls approaching you in bathrooms, sometimes aggressively, sometimes meekly, to ask if Taehyung’s your boyfriend. You’ve had girls come apologize, saying they “didn’t know about you”. Once you’d had a girl nearly shove you down a staircase for talking to “her man”, but luckily, said man was walking next to you and helped shut the whole thing down. (You two had had a serious talk after that one about communicating with his partners about his relationship status. Things have never gone that far again, to date.)

Less frequently, you’ll get asked about Taehyung by guys who are interested in you, who are trying to figure out how much of a lost cause it is. That one’s a little trickier. How do you tell the cute guy at the coffee shop that no, you’re not dating Taehyung, but you are secretly so in love with him that it really isn’t worth their time? 

Anyway, usually you just tell guys that you’re not dating Taehyung but that you’re not interested in dating anyone. It usually does the trick. It’s not that far from the truth, either.

That leaves the last category of people who ask about you two, and this is where you feel Namjoon falls: the people who watch your weird, boundary-pushing friendship and are just genuinely curious how it could possibly work. 

And you get it, you really do. You know how this looks from the outside. Hell, you’re sure that from the outside it’s fairly obvious how gone you are for him. Is it just as obvious to the outside that he sees you more like a sister than anything datable? 

Probably.

You’ve had friends ask you what keeps you around. You always say the same thing - regardless of your feelings for him, he’s also your absolute best friend.

Your friendship is precious to you, sacred. It sometimes feels like the only thing you have, in a life where you generally don’t have much. Your family is Lin - that’s it, end of the road. Your girlfriends are nice, but Penny was the closest you had and she’s across the country now. You only have Taehyung. And what you have with him, as special as it is, it’s also precarious. 

If you lose him, it isn’t just that you’ll lose him - and trust, that would be devastating - it’s also that you would be deeply alone. 

Finished with the dishes, you bid Namjoon goodnight and head back into your room for the night, planning to change into pajamas and wait for Taehyung to text you that he made it home safely, wait for Taehyung to text you goodnight. Namjoon murmurs goodnight, but you feel his calculating gaze on your back until you close your door softly behind you.

Next ->

Thank you so much for reading! I started writing this in August, it feels amazing to finally postttttt. Please consider some type of feedback - I'd love to hear anything you want to share! Section II will post on Friday, January 27th - hope to see you there!

[dragon-queen21]

hi it's me again

just wondering if I can have agere venti angst! A few angst headcanons:

1) thunder makes him reminded of Decarabian from Old Mondstadt (he is the god of storms, after all!)

2) anytime he is injured, he gets ptsd from the archon war and half the time he regresses due to it

3) on rare occasions, he will get really forgetful when small and want someone who is dead (makoto, the nameless bard) and then he cries remembering they are dead

4) when he's regressed, he has nightmares 99% of the time and whenever he wakes up he's in babyspace and can only cry

Regressor Venti headcanons

Hello again! :D Hehe my favorite kinds of requests. The ones I can ramble and make my favorite characters suffer /silly

Kinda went off some of your ideas for these, just adding on :3 Also why do Venti and Zenitsu (from demon slayer) give me the same vibes. Cry babies who are clingy to their caregiver’s while small but feeling bad about it later… anyways!

~~~

~Not being able to regress for a long period of time even though he’s super stressed and really needs to. So he ends up drinking away his sorrows to try and numb himself into regressing.

~Diluc finds out about this and goes into older brother mode, insisting that, no, Venti doesn’t need to do that if he is struggling to regress just come to him and he will help. Which he has a couple times but he feels bad when he can’t be fully small and feels like he’s just wasting Diluc’s time and energy.

~It’s either that or he can’t seem to stay big no matter what he does. Caught in a limbo sort of headspace of not small, definitely not big. And he’s just weepy and wants to be clingy

~My own personal headcanon is the reason Venti’s friend doesn’t have a name is because he’s forgotten it over the centuries. But imagine being so little and crying that he misses his friend, his current caregiver trying ti figure out who Venti is talking about and he can’t even tell them because he’s forgotten details himself.

~Will cry at the drop if a hat. One wrong glance and the baby will be in tears

~Begs Morax to take care of him. I feel like after the archon war he would have done so a lot. Over time well life just happens but Morax still makes the time for him ever so often. Venti is never told about Morax’s plan at faking his own death and spirals upon hearing the news, made worse by the fact that he’s in Mondstadt and only hears about the rumor on the wind. He absolutely breaks down in the middle of Angel’s Share and is nearly small for the next week and a half over pure grief alone.

~Screaming and throwing a fit whenever someone insists to look after him (he needs a caregiver especially now he literally can’t take care of himself) but he feels sick that it’s not Morax, not his bubba, not right. And his mental health is bad enough to start worrying the people around him. To the point that Kaeya takes days off to stay with the regressed spirit, Rosaria checks in on him even though she has no idea how to deal with children, let along grieving ones. Even Jean takes off to watch over and support him.

~Aether chews Zhongli out over not telling Venti about his death and leaving his little one to mourn for weeks and the Traveler gets upset to the point that halfway through he’s non-verbal himself, continuing on by just signing to the other and Zhongli isn’t even sure what’s being said to him only that Aether is angry and that he messed up big time. He probably still doesn’t do anything because he’s stubborn and thinks he will hurt Venti more in the long run.

~Eventually it gets bad enough that Aether and Paimon step in directly and take Venti to Liyue, dumps the sad wisp child into Zhongli’s arms with a look and a very stern, “This is your problem. Deal with him.”

~Yeah, easy to say Venti clings to Zhongli like never before. Bonus, he gets to meet Hu Tao when Zhongli takes the little to work with him.

[manwrre]

i am absolutely ravenous for a jennifer’s body themed harringrove fic. and if i write it, it’ll be purely self indulgent so please don’t make me (make me make me make me).

like, i kid you not, when i say that billy’s the perfect character/candidate for any kind of possession trope. he’s pretty and popular— with his half-wild grin, fervent eyes and untamable hair. he’s smart and charismatic like no one’s business and anyone would be drawn in by him; he’s a perfect homme fatale.

he’s also strong and young. he’s healthy and quick and in his prime, so if a demon really wanted to make an apex predator out of someone, he’d be ideal. because no matter how great of a hunter anyone or anything is, isn’t it all the more rewarding when the prey comes to you?

so i can imagine steve and billy becoming such good freaking friends after the night at the byers’. once he’s sobered up and off the adrenaline high, i know for a fact that the sight of steve’s bruised face would probably make billy sick to his stomach. so he’d apologize, right? and they’d get on like a house on fire because they have sm in common.

it doesn’t take long for them to start crushing on each other (unbeknownst to either party because we love pining). so one night, billy takes steve to this underground metal-grunge club and in steve’s head, it’s a freaking date (and billy’s too). they spend most of the show just wrapped up in each other at the bar and messing around in their familiar, little way that makes steve’s heart race.

until yk, he goes to the bathroom and comes back to find billy’s seat empty. the bartender’s no help, really. he mentions something about billy walking off with a guy and steve’s stumped. he’s hurt because surely, he understood this right, so why would billy leave with someone else? so he waits and waits and waits before heading home, livid.

but imagine his surprise, hours later, when he wakes up to a commotion in his backyard and it’s billy.

billy, whose usually perfect curls are a mess and who looks like he can barely stand on his own two, god-given feet. billy, who snaps his head in steve’s direction at the sound of the door sliding open and stares at him with wide, frantic eyes.

“steve,” his voice cracks and his shoulders slump in what might be relief.

“jesus christ— billy, where the fuck have you been?” steve hisses, dropping the bat and rubbing at his burning eyes because he’s exhausted.

because at the core of it, he’s still pissed that he’d been ditched, of course and so sad and he would hate for billy to see him cry.

that is, until the blonde practically falls into his arms and all steve can do is cradle him against his chest while billy shakes.

he’s cold, like he’s been out here forever in the midwestern fall but he doesn’t seem bothered as he blindly clutches at whichever parts of steve are closest— his shoulders, his arms, his back and presses his face into his neck.

all the while, he’s murmuring something low enough that steve can only pick up bits and pieces; his own name and a mantra of pleasepleasepleasepleaseohgod.

it’s only then that he notices the dark sludge staining the blonde’s clothes and the front of his bare chest; half-dried and pungent and he freezes.

“billy… billy, what’s this? are you hurt?”

and he’s looking him over for a sizable wound because the amount of blood spells nothing less than extensive damage and gore. so it’s safe to say that he’s confused when he finds nothing but a few scratches. nothing that warrants this amount of blood, which means that it’s not his. but,

it’s someone’s.

he doesn’t notice that billy’s stopped moving until he looks up to find the blonde already staring at him, though.

his eyes are damp with unshed tears and he’s got his lower lip caught between his teeth; worrying the skin there. and he looks so far away. closer to the outskirts of hawkins, than here in steve’s backyard.

“steve– i, listen…i just,” he whispers, his brows furrowing and face contorting into something ugly for all of a second; something pained.

when he speaks again, it sounds wet. it sounds wet and he’s so scared. steve’s never seen him this scared.

it makes his own heart race in response; filling the spaces where billy’s must be skipping a beat.

“i think there’s something wrong with me. like really, really, really wrong with me— i dunno what i did, i dunno what to do, god, it was just…i think….”

“steve, i think there’s something inside of me.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Safe

Warnings- its all angst, none of its happy 🤭

Your guys child is like 3/4 idc however old you wanna imagine

You put your baby down to sleep, and sighed in relief. You could finally relax.

Tangerines been gone a few days, he’s been doing jobs off and on, and apparently this one was so urgent he had to come home say hi and then leave again.

He called you though, all that was all that mattered.

“Hey, love. I uh… should be home in a few days. The job should be done today but some things have come up.”

“Are you okay? You sound a bit…”

“I’m- I’m fine.” He said. He would admit he was just crying in the bathroom, not knowing if he’d get the chance to go back home. “Just uh.. tired, is all. I can’t wait to see you both.” He said.

“I can’t wait to see you. Be safe, okay?” You said.

“I always am. Well, uh, I’ll call you back later, I love you guys.”

“Love you too.” You said.

He hung up and sighed, holding his head down in defeat. He sat down on the dirty floor, head hung down.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

He saw the girl again.

“Oi! You, I know you.” He said, pointing to her. “You’re the girl, aren’t ya?”

He walked closer to her, she looked panicked. “Oh my god.” She said quietly.

“Yeah, I never forget a face, me.”

“I’ts so good to see you. Please help me. Uhm.. there’s this man and he was holding me hostage. He was wearing glasses and… and he killed my uncle, and he also killed this other man which I don’t know.. he just kept talking about- uh- uh- uh.. Thomas the trains and..”

“Tank engine.”

“Yeah, right, exactly. But he killed both of them and then he said he was going to get away with some sort of money, I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who the fuck you are.”

“I’m just a girl who was supposed to get off at Nagoya and then-“

“That was fucking ages ago!”

“I know! But this man he just said that I could be a good backup plan and that a pretty girl makes a good hostage.” She said, voice trembling.

“Well, he ain’t wrong there, but, look keep your fucking knickers on, alright?”

“Please just help me.”

“Alright, alright, calm down. Get off or do whatever the fuck you’d like, your free to go.” He passed her.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t know what you’re still fucking doing here anyway.”

He looked back and he tore off a sticker on her back.

“Huh.”

“Are you okay?” She asked, innocently.

“Diesel. The absolute fucking worst. Little shit-stirrer.” He sighed heavily. “See, Lemon, God rest his soul, he could read people, see them for who they really are. He was right, there’s been a diesel, running around this train, causing all sorts of fucking havoc, and it was you the whole fucking time! You dirty little diesel!” He pulled his gun out and pointed it at her.

“You made lemon bleed, and lemon never bleeds.”

Ladybug came up behind him and the girl put her act back on, she screamed.

“Oh my god! Sir, please help me!!”

Ladybug took his gun and shot him right in the neck.

The girl scrambled back and ladybug looked at tangerine.

“Ohhh…”

Tangerine held his neck, and tried to stop it.

He slid his phone to ladybug.

He tried to speak, and tell him that she was the diesel. But he didn’t understand until he fell to the ground, lifeless.

“You’re a diesel. What the fuck..”

He took tangerines phone, and saw a treat from someone.

The name had “My love” with a wedding ring emoji. He used tangerines messed up face, and opened his phone.

“Hey, call me back when you’re done please. Shes asking for you.” The text read.

He scrolled through some other texts and pictures.

“Oh fuck, did I really just kill a married man with a kid?” Ladybug sighed. “My therapist is gonna need a therapist after next session.”

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

There was a knock on the door, it woke you up. You sighed, getting up and expecting a package or maybe even tangerine.

Instead, you were met with Lemon. He looked sad.

“Hey, lemon. What’s up? Where’s your brother?”You muttered groggily, rubbing your eyes.

You considered them brothers, because brothers didn’t need to be blood.

“About that.. I’m sorry. He’s dead.”

“What..” you said, quickly waking up and denying it.

“I was unconscious while it happened, but the person who did it said it was an honest accident. He says that he’s sorry, and that he’d do anything to take it back.”

“No, no, Lemon. That’s not.. tell me this isn’t true. Tell me you’re joking.” You said, your lips quivering.

He looked up, to avoid crying as well.

“I’m so sorry, I miss him too.” He muttered, as you cried, he patted your back and where red the house, he guided you back to the couch. You sat down and held your face in your hands.

Lemon started crying to.

“Wheres.. uh-“

“Uncle lemon?”

He turned back quickly.

“What’s wrong with mommy?” (D/n) asked.

“Go back to sleep, we can talk in the morning. It’s late.” You said, you would need time to process so that you could explain it to her. Lemon got up and carried her to her bed, tucking her in and closing the door.

He sat back down on the couch next to you. He hugged your side, and sat with you as you cried. He was tearing up a bit too.

“How- How am I supposed to explain to her that her dads not coming back..?” You muttered quietly, while still crying.

“I’ll explain it to her. I’ll stay here for as long as I need to.”

[notstilinski]

Abbott Elementary Starters !

Taken from season two the 2022 ABC series, Abbott Elementary! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! There may be some light spoilers!

“I took it as an opportunity to grow. Not physically, of course, because I can’t reach the top shelves in my apartment.”

“Sea (Name) is very different than Land (Name).”

“If this is what they expect of us, it’s can’t be unrealistic.”

“Are you about to get evicted?!”

“I thought coming into work a full adult would be my solution, but I’m drowning.”

“I get it now. I’m not not a fan.”

“Then why do I have to see Chris Pratt everywhere?!”

“Oh, I don’t do that anymore. Because I’m in therapy and anger management.”

“Oh, we don’t take bribes — That aren’t in the form of money.”

“I think she’s saying I’m a broke boi.”

“(Name), I said that I don’t want to go to a strip club with you.”

“I hope all the kids aren’t here today. Yesterday, almost everybody was in attendance and it almost broke me.”

“You don’t want to be a corny legend.”

“Ya’ll gotta stop playing God with that boy’s life.”

“I’m not in the mood to improve-d at.”

“(Name) tells me I sound like a lesbian. I’m working on that.”

“And one of those is the right side, which is mine.”

“Are you two in a fight? Looks like ya’ll in a fight.”

“Poison? You know I ain’t poisoning anybody. If I’m taking someone out, I want to watch them go.”

“I’m starting to think that I didn’t grow into the person I’m proud of because of it, but maybe I did despite of it.”

“What’s that I taste? The taste of sweet victory?”

“Who does everybody get so surprised when I say I’ll help? I’m a professional.”

“You time yourself going to the second floor?”

“It don’t count if I don’t have my Fitbit on.”

“I haven’t seen you this made since the bartender cut you off at the batting cages.”

“Disguises, crime, looking hot? These are my specialities.”

“Okay, well, thank you for the donation to my mouth.”

“I’m just one of those people where chaos really affects my mood so I’m just gonna call it a day.”

“Ghost, ghouls and new friends.”

“Oh, like y’all came tell these moderately attractive white men with bears apart.”

“You truly do have the taste of a middle aged midwestern mama.”

“And now you’ve made me an accessory.”

“I Googled it. But I like to maintain that aura of dark mystery.”

“This is cutting into my pre happy hour hour.”

“All these wasted eggs when the (Name) is in town. Now I’ve got to throw a Molotov cocktail at their bus.”

“And I want to shield them with the best defense: Positivity.”

“The emergency is… I don’t feel like it right now.”

“Merry Capitalism to you all.”

“You know what? They’re a lot like paint fumes. Small doses? Fine — Even somewhat enjoyable. But too much just gives you a headache.”

“Yeah, after I introduce myself, you know. Start dating, get super clingy, abs go through his phone he might be.”

“That’s right. Now go ahead and make Juvenile proud.”

“Is that my work husband grinding on my work nemesis?”

“I’m sorry, you look like you’re in deep thought.”

“I drink a lot of Snapple so I kind of know some facts.”

“I know plenty of people who have counted me out before and, while I have absolutely no way of confirming this, I’m positive they’re all dead.”

“Sorry, so your- You dad, he hired an actor to play his child instead of just asking you?”

“Don’t look at me like that, he gave me his number.”

“I was both the hostage negotiator and the hostage.”

“Well, I’m a pacifist. You mess with me, I’ll pass a fist across your face.”

“We are watching the first Toy Story because the third one makes me cry.”

“What in the Earth, Wind and Fire is going on here?!”

“Okay. She’s robbed a child.”

“Aw. Disposable income.”

“Do you want to pinch my cheeks? My mom says it helps.”

“Well, that was before I realized that I have an insecure attachment style. I now recognize it for the disdain that it is.”

“I don’t think an adult has ever apologized to me before.”

“I will kick your (Name)-loving Valentine’s Day ass right out of this building.”

“Shame. So hot, yet so annoying.”

“I am one minor inconvenience away from putting this whole day in rice.”

“Mandates are nothing more than fervent suggestions.”

“Just because you got a round face like the Teletubbies sun baby doesn’t mean that the world revolves around you.”

“It’s cool that no matter what I do, no one is happy.”

“Let’s say that (Name) has a bubbly personality to cover up deep-seated mommy issues.”

“The silver lining about dating is that you only have to be correct about someone /once./“

“Last night, as the kids would say, was a film.”

“That is bisexual erasure. I expected better from you.”

“You’re a dork but you’re messy.”

“Weird cash floating around? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Come on. Let’s go bully some sensitive artists.”

“Now you two need to get on board. Who we fighting first?”

“That’s why Mothers Day was invented. So less mothers would leave their families.”

“Don’t give Jesus my credit.”

“Nothing good has ever come from nerds whispering.”

“It’s because you abandon people, and it’s nice to finally hear you say it out loud.”

“People had hopes for you, and they gave up on me!”

“I get why you left (Name), it just kind of felt like you left me, too.”

“My night terrors have spread into day terrors. I can’t tell if I’m asleep right now or if this is some kind of waking nightmare.”

“Why can’t you ever give me credit for a good idea?”

“My lies don’t discriminate.”

“Never have I been so happy to hear such explicit content.”

“At the end of the day, they have to decide who they want to be. And this one decided to be a jackass.”

“So what you’re going to do is pick yourself up, dust yourself off, come back here tomorrow and do your job.”

“People have thrown dirt on my name, others have given flowers. It’s all a garden to me.”

“I love the company of others. But I’m trying to like my own.”

“I’m just gonna go back to avoiding her and never asking her for anything.”

“You would beat my ass, wouldn’t you?”

“The key to never getting your ass beat? Knowing when someone can beat your ass.”

“Note to self: New way to manipulate. Step one: have a daughter. Step two: Play the long game.”

“I’m a master forager. My speciality? Mushrooms.”

“I don’t know how to leave this conversation.”

“I’m counting on those tiny fists for very precise blows.”

“Yeah. I take all your recommendations seriously — I want to know why you like stuff.”

“Uh-uh. I don’t like clanks in bags. Clank-clank leads to clink-clink.”

“No wonder your dad’s a landscaper, the way you beat around the bush.”

“You need to be better at hiding things with your face.”

“Everybody I like knows it. (Name) and Diego Luna has seen my tweets.”

“If I don’t get a smooth eleven hours, I get a little handsy.”

[aredhel-erinti]

Love and Redemption Rewatch: ep. 1

I genuinely love and adore this show but with how little content there is for L&R, I had to made some for myself.

Beware of SPOILERS for the whole story! Seriously...

I'm so excited!!! The opening song is still so good and still so full of spoilers. Like really, Si Feng with the wings??? The creators were not afraid... it was a choice.

Who do we have here? Yep, they have shown our bird and our monkey right off the bat.

The whole opening monologue is such a great misdirection! They even say it - one comes after the other! But the viewer expects two players, so this very suspicious setup is completely disregarded.

Wow, they really show everyone, don't they? :)

The concept of soul AND primordial spirit was very hard for me to grasp the first time, but rewatch makes it quite clear.

I swear I have seen this guy somewhere...

Yep, it's this guy from The Journey of Chong Zi.

This is ANOTHER great misdirect because we know that God of War and Star of Mosha are going to be reincarnated at the same time and OF COURSE Si Feng is here... so who could he possibly be, am I right? :)

And another great thing? The demons genuinely don't have the most important information either. :D

I almost forgot that they need Rahu Ketu's weapon to unseal the cup... all these macguffins to keep track of.

And this ist how the story tells us that Xuan Ji and Ling Long are twins... pretty easy to miss.

Ten months?? That's quite post-term!

Ling Long is amazing from the start. Protective older sister is something I need more of... and Ling Long is fierce!

The introduction of Min Yan is also on point: the only one who can keep up with Ling Long and never leaves her, but at the same time is always backed into some corner by her.

He is regretting it already... :D

Ling Long is talking about all these "handsome men" she gets to meet and Min Yan is not amused...

I have questions! Are all of these golden winged birds?? If so, do they really cast out so many potential warriors? To fend for themselves in hostile world without their powers?? That's rough AND wasteful...

I can't decide which picture sums up the Master of Li Ze Palace (does he have a name???) better, but I love him and his terrifying claws.

The bird lantern! There truly is foreshadowing for everything, if you know what to look for!

Yuan Lang's and Wu Zhi Qi's "friendship" is so interesting to me, because sometimes Yuan Lang almost looks like he means it... but the powerplay always comes first.

Wu Tong goes from awestruck to smirking in 0,2 seconds and then proceeds to bully the sister of the girl he likes... it's actually quite realistic.

I honestly can't remember when Si Feng stops stammering... I will have to look out for that.

Ling Long isn't afraid to say it. :D

Min Yan still isn't enjoying the whole "let's look for handsome mysterious guys" vibe, but Ling Long has him figured out.

The relationship between these two is extremely enjoyable right from the start. :)

I think this is the scene that made me definitely fall in love with Ling Long. She is determined, driven, protective and smart, and she is not afraid to use tactics like this - the crying and evocation of their mother is extremely well done and the way she immediately cuts her crying once she gets what she wants is hilarious. No one can mess with her sister, not even their own father!

This is a very specific morning routine. It can't be easy to make your tea from dewdrops fallen from a plum tree... just saying.

This relationship is off to a very bad start.

I already forgot how hostile Si Feng was at the beginning. I would feel bad for Xuan Ji, but she doesn't mind...

Si Feng is repressed and Chuan Ji is absolutely clueless about everything and it's very entertaining to watch. :)

The candle dragon sounds are genuinely scary.

This is a very impulsive decision on Chuan Ji's part and one she should have thought out better. She knows the rules, knows that the mask is important. What is she hoping to achieve by taking it off? It frustrates me a little, this lack of forethought, but the story needs it to get moving.

And here is another clue... wow, that's quite a lot for episode 1.

One episode was enough to rekindle my love for most of these characters... this rewatch could get quite annoying unfortunately . :)

[vesperpharsalius]

speaking of darrow and cassius at the gala, i think i’ve found a comment from you on reddit (i think that was you, the name and the pfp were the same, if not then apologies because this will be nonsense😭) on one of the countless discussion on cassius and mustang at the gala together. the majority of the people were just bashing mustang for being with cassius (average level of reddit misogyny) but you (if that was you) said something on how it felt incomplete that mustang pov was never properly addressed concerning that moment. i do agree with you but on the other side it’s funny how that scene got people screaming crying throwing up on reddit for the “love triangle”, calling mustang a bitch and cassius a dickhead, then in lb you have cassius and darrow for no reason at all “hey do you remember the gala? lol”

it’s such a dassius moment i think pierce has forgotten mustang was there too

Thanks for the ask!

It was me! Honestly, I’d be surprised if someone else was ever using my username, because it’s referencing an original character from my own book, which I haven’t published or teased or even talked that much about, online—so, it’d be a little spooky.

But, yes, I remember—that upsurge of interest in the Mustang x Cassius after LB came out. I was fairly new to the subreddit, not yet accustomed to the braindead takes. There I was, trying to have a thoughtful discussion about their relationship; after a few days of wading through, I went ahead and jumped into the pond, like the silly little 🪿 I am.

But one thing that astonishes me is how many people still believe that Darrow and Cassius were fighting over Mustang at the Gala, that PB introduced a love–triangle here, because that is just… so wrong? Baseless. Literally, refuted multiple times; before, during, after.

For the record, I am one of the few people that do people there was some truth in Casstang; that Mustang felt more for Cassius and that their connection was deeper that she claimed in GS.

But PB couldn’t have been clearer about how absolutely hopeless—DOA, non–starter, sunk like the bloodydamn Titanic—Casstang was. This was never supposed to be perceived as a threat to ReaperStang.

Some people really read with their eyes closed 😩

Of course, there’s countless undercurrents and nuances, juicy tensions and delicious subplots throughout the whole episode, but one thing made abundantly clear—and she literally complains about this—is that Mustang’s being ignored. It’s almost screamed at full volume that it’s not about her, for her, over her.

She tries to defuse the situation (which, as far as she knows, is wrecking her otherwise–successful schemes to save her family from ruin) but she keeps getting sidelined, especially by Darrow, who��s blind and deaf to her—to everyone, really, except for his bad man.

I’m not saying that Mustang didn’t play a significant role at the Gala; hell, she saved Cassius and basically ignited the civil war by intervening. But this is a Dassius moment. My God, there’s simply too much (flirtatious?) banter in this chapter to cover, but I would be remiss not to mention this—

I cock my head at him. “Come now, brother. Don’t you want to see how well I can really fight?”

And this? What is this?! This loaded–fucking–gun of UST?

Women are screaming for Cassius. Lovers he has had in his youth, who now watch the man they grew with, the man who bedded them, left them with false promises, and made them think they'd just lost the strongest of a generation. They watch as another man turns him into a throbbing mess of blood.

Bonus points for this banger, which still makes me swoon, even in–context—

“You will not steal what is mine.”

All this to say, I’m not averse to the OT3, but this is Dassius fuel. It’s giving disaster–date vibes in LB—as it should.

[kurisus]

Noragami reread: Volume 19 & 20 thoughts

On to the next batch of pain.

But really, ouchies. First we have the resolution of the covenant (or trial by pledge)--and if you weren't around for that month-long wait, it was AWFUL. A month of speculating about Daikoku's odds because how good could his luck be if he belongs to someone with notoriously bad luck? Also a month of speculating about Yukine's fate, and his past, and generally being miserable. It was a TIME.

Anyway, the trial resolves with no one dying on either side, and since the rules weren't super clearly outlined, I'm relying heavily on what the official translation states to draw my conclusion. Basically, Amaterasu says the trial judges the actions of Bishamon, Yato, and Yukine. Assuming respectiveness, I think the order is key. The first trial, for Bishamon, found her in the wrong. This is in line with what everyone else says about her decision to name Nana--it's objectively risky to brand herself a traitor to hunt the crafter, and treasonous to attack a bunch of gods simply for being in the way. Even though her motivations make perfect sense.

Contrast this outcome to Yato and Yukine, both of whom were dragged into this mess and did what they could. So my personal theory is that's why the trial panned out the way it did. I could be totally misinterpreting it! But since we'll likely never get an explanation, that's what I'll go with.

I know there were some complaints that no one did die, but on a reread I kinda disagree. Tsuyu isn't a super plot relevant character, but that's my point. Noragami rarely kills off its characters, and each death has huge ramifications. Tsuyu's permanent death would accomplish...what, exactly? Plus she's a plum spirit, not a proper shinki. She shouldn't die in the same way as them.

Furthermore, Yato says "your shinki are not a set of dice," aka something to be gambled with. In gambling, you don't lose your dice, you lose your money or chips.

Anyway Yukine's reaction to being freed makes me want to blow up. He's suffering from mad PTSD, but still takes the time to let Yato know how grateful he is that he was there. Crying and sobbing.

The Kunimi chapter is a fun time. Except for the part where he talks about death being the end of memories. That was not fun.

The birthday chapter is everything to me but it also makes me want to wither away. I'm forever upset about Bishamon and Kazuma not being there, although Take and Kiun is the funniest possible replacement.

And then we get to chapter 75, which always makes me want to blow up. Adachitoka returned from hiatus and dropped this absolute banger of a chapter on us-- it's all about the ways in which love ruins the dynamics of near and far shore, tied up with Yato finally deciding to go after his dad. Sobbing etc.

In the following volume, we see a flashback of Yato explaining Father's origins to Amaterasu, followed by his vow to defeat him. He's thinking, as he says this, that it's the end for them both, and he will fade away too. In general Yato does a lot of musing on his own mortality in this volume, since just after this he sadly realizes he won't make it till spring. Blowing up once more.

Hiyori also does some musing on her own mortality this volume, after Tenjin talks to her about what Kazuma said. Kazuma wants to be loved in a human way, and it has ruined him. Tenjin again chides Hiyori for being too involved with the gods, and she wonders what would be better--if she forgets Yato whether she lives or dies, it'll be like they never met at all. SO SHE HAS TO REMEMBER HIM, RIGHT?! RIGHT?!?!?!?! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING

Still don't entirely remember what trash dad was doing at her house, but fuck him.

Yato naming Kazuma is just really sad on all levels. Neither of them wanted to do it but they're left with no choice, so they nip at each other the whole time. Despite this, Yato empathizes with Kazuma's tragic life, and notes that it's similar to Yukine's. Because they've been two different types of hafuri this whole story, but they have a lot in common too. Is anyone else clawing at the walls?

Discord reactions:

[potential-fate]

15 questions for mutuals

uhm uhmmmm... I got tagged by like 4 people in one day LMAO but I believe @pralinesims, @helltrait, @boolpropper and @sicksadsim tagged me!~ (I'm so sorry if you also tagged me and I missed u 😭)

Are you named after anyone?

Not that I know of. Fun fact though, my dad almost got away with naming me after an ex girlfriend LMAO. He said it was just cause she had a cool name. (to be fair, he was right cause her name was like Jade or something lol.)

when was the last time you cried?

Oh gosh, uhm. it's probably been a week or two. Which is probably an improvement recently. :') But fr I'm an over-emotional mess so a lot of things, including being super mad, makes me cry lol.

do you have kids?

I do not. nor do I particularly want any. (now or probably ever tbh.) I'm good with having a niece.

do you use sarcasm a lot?

me? never. /s

what sports do you play/have you played?

I'm not a sports person. I like bouldering at a gym though. but I haven't gone recently cause it's not convenient to get to.

what's the first thing you notice about other people?

hm. I'm not sure tbh. my brain is saying "just say "vibes" but that sounds dumb lmao. but fr idk. I have a bad habit of deciding very quickly based on 'vibes' whether or not I'm gonna like a person lmao.

eye colour?

blue.

scary movies or happy endings?

both? separately though, obviously. but I really enjoy a good suspense/supernatural type horror movie (I can't really do slashers anymore sadly they make me cringe/ick.) but I also love like, soft shit with a bunch of fluff (either platonic or romantic yk)

any special talents?

uh.... I mean I'm sure there's something. probably.

what are your hobbies?

bruh you see most of them here. -__- fr though. art stuff, writing, sims modding, videogames in general, uhm...

do you have any pets?

a single cat. She's not social. otherwise I'd probably have two by now. but she's a bit bitchy to other cats lmao.

how tall are you?

5'4'' :D (absolutely the average height in the US.)

fave subject in school?

the obvious answer is art. but I also liked english and math, and did not much like science courses. I also failed photography three fcking times in college because I was simply too bored to do the work. (I don't even dislike photography but gods I hated it as a class.)

dream job?

is "nothing" an option? nah, actually that would probably drive me crazy too. uhm, honestly I'm pretty much okay with my current job. it's fine. a little boring sometimes, but I'm fine with that.

Uhm... I'm supposed to tag people now. I think a lot of people have been tagged by now. 🤔 @luverofralts, @nappe-plays-the-sims, @rurpleplayssims, @rebouks, and @auroragoth if yall haven't/want to do this.

[shibonzakura]

ZoTash fanfic ANGST!! ( Sequel )

Under the cut to avoid cluttering the dash. PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG UNLESS YOU ASK ME FIRST. Is a loosely tied sequel.

The truth is bulletproof. There is no fooling you. I don't dress the same. Me and who you say I was yesterday.

Have gone our separate ways. Left my life living fast somewhere in the past. Cause that's for chasing boats. Turns out open bars leave to broken hearts. And going way too far. I know I used to be crazy. You say that I used to be wild. I say I used to be young. You tell me time has done changed me. That's fine, I had a good run. I know I used to be crazy. That's because I used to be young.

Take one, pour it out, it's not worth crying about. The things you cannot erase. Like scars and regrets, words never meant. And ones that got away. Left my life living fast somewhere in the past. And took another road. Turns out crowded rooms empty out as soon. There's somewhere else to go. I know I used to be crazy. You say that I used to be wild. I say I used to be young. You tell me time has done changed me. That's fine, I had a good run. I know I used to be crazy. That's because I used to be young.

I know I used to be crazy. Messed up, but, God, was it fun. I know that I used to be wild. That's because I used to be young. Those wasted nights are not wasted. I remember every one. I know I used to be crazy. That's because I used to be young. You tell me time has done changed me. That's fine, I had a good run. I know I used to be crazy. That's because I used to be young.

Listening to Roronoa actually was the wisest decision Tashigi ever made. The option was given to her to take so why not run with it? She did the same when someone important in her life told her to collect swords that were crying instead of trying to give that person a hug.

That one road she chose gave her a goal and hobby, although to everyone else's detriment. Sure now it had hurt Tashigi's soul to give up the things she held dear before all of this but now her wings were free to flap into the sky above. No longer chained down by honor, justice, the way of the sword.

Things change with time, when anyone is prepared or not. The captain's goals and personality were part of those grand designs. Not only did her dream change to opening up a dojo and train others but also becoming more of a mentor to the younger generation when she turned 26.

Now 28, she was an established and well credited name where she decided to settle down. All the islanders treated her with respect, kindness, and equality that the woman deserved during her younger years. Tashigi bets that the child, young teenager, and young adult version would be absolutely floored on how much progress older her had made for herself.

Sure, she didn't have her old swords anymore but the marine had found some in the abandoned dojo that she decided to purchase on a whim using the funds of the World Government that she borrowed. It's not like they were going to use it for anything worthwhile. They got more out of the citizens than what Tashigi had took so it was all good.

Tashigi did worry about the children from Punk Hazard but the parents of the kids were nice enough to throw rocks and insults at her before finding this place. Which was completely understandable. She did run away from everything after all. Past her would be screaming, fighting, and tearing present Tashigi apart. However, the truth never lies.

This was her life now and nothing was going to change that. Not even Roronoa. Why he showed up now after 5 years was beyond her but she was going to treat him like a friend regardless. Their cat and mouse game ended with her leaving like she did. Not even saying a goodbye. Like that lunkhead would care anyway. Why should she?

Indifference was really a saving grace for both of them. So why show up at the island at all? Why ask to see her in the dojo training, where she's not as well kept as usual. Messy hair, cleavage showing, sweatpants dropping a little towards the floor, barefooted. Basically a hot mess. At least her glasses were still on the top of her head. A different look and feel for sure.

She finds Roronoa walking around aimlessly, still clueless with directions and still looking like he did since Punk Hazard. Tashigi coughs in her hand awkwardly and thankfully the pirate hunter is able to pick up on that. It's then when his jaw drops to the floor in disbelief and cheeks flushed red for some reason.

What in the world is wrong now? After all these years, the man is still trying to pick a fight and push her buttons. Sure, Tashigi seemed different and somewhat traded in sword styles for more of a punch fist like attack coated with different types of haki but nothing else was out of place so why? Nope. Just got to calm down and will herself back into a place of blissful happiness.

The marine smiled back, trying to show there was nothing wrong with the woman in front of Roronoa and this was who she truly was all this time. Pirate hunter on the other hand was reaching for Sandai and Enma and shifted his expression to a more comical one. Then laughing, Zoro shook his head, almost glad about something.

Like not being crazy and that a version of Tashigi with her literal hair down did exist. He was juggling around each of the two swords, squinting at them like they were fucking his mind or something. The marine could only smile back, as things never seemed to change with that green haired man, not even time could make this less than THE Roronoa Zoro getting the last laugh.

Which was fine. Tashigi didn't care about winning or losing anymore. Indifference was not going to let her down now. The pirate hunter then looked up and mouthed something. Like how Tashigi had changed. More weary eyed and will-less. The marine laughed, copying his silent mouth movements. Saying that it was fine and that she had a good run.

Zoro is then taken aback from her admission. Like he had lost a round or two. Which was funny because Tashigi wasn't taking score like she used to. Back then, she was wild. Crazy even. That's because she USED TO BE YOUNG.

- When you finally see someone who they were truly are, it's too late to have regrets. -Anonymous.

END