#you can tell I’ve thought about this au extensively

[bubbytheliverstealingskeleton]

Mmmm

Au idea I’ve had floating in my brain for a bit I’ve been calling the 5 years late au

Putting all the stuff under a read more cause I’m just sorta brainstormin’ on the spot

So this ain’t organized very goodly or anythin’ but here I go.

Ford never sent the postcard to Stanley, or atleast he tried to but it never made it to him. Bill managed to delay Ford sending it by ripping up the post card he had written and then all the other ones in his house. Once Ford managed to finally send a post card- it actually made it to the address of the motel Stan had been staying at, but Stan was already long gone. He was chased out of his motel and had left the state the couple months prior. Ford also sent it probably a couple months after when he actually had in cannon. Just generally because of nerves and such. He kept thinking it over and second guessing if he actually wanted Stanley’s help or not or if he was actually going to help or if he wanted to drag him into his messes.

But Stan still ends up in Gravity Falls. It’s 5 years later than he does in cannon, and that’s only because he was looking for someplace to lie low and overheard a family at a gas station while he was traveling through Oregon saying something about visiting family there and he thought: “well that seems to be a small weird little town out in the middle of nowhere, why don’t I stay there nobody will ever find me there” “Probably”

So she just decides to live there for a bit. She decides to switch it up a bit with the fake identities and try’s the whole being a girl thing. [she’s probably been femme presenting with another identity before but this is probably the first time she outright told someone she was a women] Her fake identity for Gravity Falls is Lee Pineley Tree, local butch girl who just moved to town, works at the Dusk 2 Dawn, already tried to seduce someone, and looks a little suspiciously like the mysterious scientist guy who used to live at that mysterious shack in the woods who may or may not still be living there and/or dead-but uhhh it can’t possibly be him because he’s not a girl and also doesn’t seem to have a car and isn’t good at talking with people and this girl doesn’t seem to know jack shit about the area soooo-

Yeap

[also please note that I think if Stan had like 4-5 more years in cannon to himself before he had to pretend to be Ford then he would have figured out his whole gender thing a lot quicker][she totally knows she’s a weird little transfem genderqueer baby now][maybe not via those labels but she knows she’s trans in some way]

Uh but yeah

Stan also just genuinely goes by Lee at that point, like outside of the fake identity he genuinely likes it.

So but anyways-

Lee works at the Dusk 2 Dawn, and for the first few months lives with Ma and Pa, doing things around their house and working extra hours and late shifts for them because she doesn’t want them to think she’s a freeloader or anything. She occasionally hears and sees out of the corner of her eyes something scuttling around the edges of the building when she’s locking up, and she swears things from the store room keep going missing but Ma and Pa don’t seem concerned. She found gnomes out back one time so she thinks that maybe it’s them taking some stock occasionally. She also seems the occasionally see the same vague shadow around other buildings.

She accidentally befriends the local kook after they bump into eachother and Fidds freaks the fuck out at seeing her face. They run into eachother again and he’s a little more sane this time and apologizes for before. They kinda hit it off cause neither of them have friends in town, everybody thinks Lee is a little too shady, and well.. Fidds is a little bit not quite there most of the time. They like to hang out and smoke in the dump. Fidds isn’t to the point of full on old man McGucket but like she’s almost there, like arm cast, beard, not completely balding and hair not completely white, prolly has a different hat. But like they’re definitely gone completely over the edge and nearly gone.

After about 3-4 months of living there she keeps swearing she sees some sort of humanoid figure scurrying around the building every 3-ish weeks to a month. She’s only vaguely seen it happen like 6 times max but she swears it’s a guy. She also around this time starts to look around for an actual house or apartment or smthin to stay in because she feels bad for living with Ma and Pa for so long. She thinks for a bit just going and living in the dump with McGucket, maybe fixing up and adding onto his little shack there, but as she’s looking she gets word that maybe she could check out the old abandoned cabin in the woods, see if she could live there.

She’s been hearing for a bit about this creepy cabin in the woods, how it belongs/belonged to this mysterious scientist who almost never came to town, the last known instances of him coming to town he looked like he was going insane, and most people either think he’s dead or left and abandoned the old shack long ago. So she drives up there after her shift one day, sees the cabin and allll the shit surrounding it and is like geez this place looks fuckin creepy as hell. Someone probably died in that thing.

She decides to come back another day when it isn’t dusk.

Before going back she grabs some tools, flashlights, weapons, anything she needs for breaking into an abandoned shack in the middle of the woods. She makes sure to get there around noon, when the sun is fully in the sky and the area is sufficiently lit up.

She goes up to the front door, and just to make sure no one actually lives there, she knocks on the door…. Nothing happens. She stands there for a full 2 minutes before shrugging and trying to open the door. It’s not locked and opens slowly, creaking the entire way.

Almost as soon as Lee enters she notices something is terribly wrong. The place is covered in scattered symbols, words, papers, and the occasional ritual/summoning looking circle. She explored around the house, finding random scientific artifacts and more symbols and ritualistic stuff everywhere. She though she heard shuffling sometime while looking around but assumed that there was maybe just an opossum or raccoon somewhere.

Oh boy she was so wrong.

Almost as soon as she got back downstairs she was pounced on by something. It held her down weakly and tried to hold a knife to the back of her neck, but she was able to overpower it quite easily and pushed herself up and shoved it back. She was able to book it out of the house and to her car and prolly came back another day to just check it out again, make sure that guy isn’t just a squatter so then maybe she could acquire the house. Idk what else still thinkin’ of stuff here

And uh

Hey I should probably tell you guys ‘bout Ford

Soooo what the fuck happened to him?

Well after sending that post card he waited for Stanley to show up. He waited. And waited. And waited.. And waited… and waited a little too long. His body begun failing him from lack of sleep and nutrients. He had waited a week for Stan, hoping that maybe he was just busy or something, and that week turned into a month, and that month, 6 months. Those 6 months turned into a year. He lost hope after the year that Stan was ever going to come.

During this first year his body started failing him, he became malnourished, rarely eating and he was surviving on just coffee and water alone for a few weeks before he had to relent and go get actual food from the store. Bill absolutely tormented him for those first few weeks, delaying his arrival because he wanted to watch Ford deteriorate and inflict pain upon himself instead of Bill doing it. He got tired eventually and started preparing for his arrival again, but everytime he would reconnect something or recalibrate something, Ford would always undo it almost as soon as he regained consciousness.

After the 5-6 month mark his body started dying. So, Bill decided to do something to Fords body. It started off slowly just small things like Fords body slowly becoming indifferent to the amount of water he drank, but slowly he developed concerning attributes and his body began changing.

He was able to see clearly in the dark after a bit, his teeth grew sharper, he developed claws and his spine elongated into a tail. His eyes turned black with his working eyes iris turning a fluorescent yellow, his nonworking just being pitch black.

Bill had turned him into some sort of undead immortal creature. Not a zombie but something slightly similar, something connected still to Bill.

Ford took the chance and disassembled a major part of the portal one day and ever since then he’s been able to slowly disassemble it. Bill has still tried to fix it but over the years he started possessing Ford less and less, sending Ford into an even more paranoid state than he had been in. He didn’t know when the next time Bill was going to possess him was.

Also these guys are definitely so much worse off compared to when they meet in canon. Ford has more burns and cuts around his body, the eye that bleeds is completely blind, and Ford is so malnourished and unhealthy and so paranoid that he only ever steals from places he needs things now, not the mention he doesn’t have his research grant anymore.

Stan also has a bit more injuries, maybe a new bullet wound and more cuts on his hands. The most grievous of injuries is his eye and hand. He doesn’t have an eye in his left socket anymore. It was gauged out after he was chased out of his motel room. The same guys removed his pinkey finger on his right hand and removed the first section of his ring finger.

Lee does however finally get proper glasses, a hearing aid, and a properly fitting prosthetic while she’s staying under Ma and Pa. She doesn’t have anything keeping her socket in shape so she just wears an eyepatch.

And that’s all I have so far

I think I’m gonna turn this into a comic but I gotta figure out how it ends

I also gotta actually draw up these guys

Maybe draw Lee being smoking buddies with McGucket

[0310s]

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Okay here we go

Does Stanfraud's eye still bleeds, like when Bill was possessing Ford or doesn't because of his bigger connection to Ford's body?

Is Stanfraud an uncle/big brother figure to Soos, like Stanley is his dad figure? Does Bill even care about him even a little😢

I know that the main focus of this au is on Bill, but since Stanley didn't try to pretend to be Ford, how did Stanley's and Filbrick's first meeting went after the whole "getting kicked out" thing"? Especially since both Stan and Ford were definitely broke at the time

You mentioned that Bill still has access to a little portion of his powers, what are they exactly?

Anyway your au is genuinely awesome and seeing it on my dash is always a huge treat 💛💛💛

Okay the first question I really want to answer because I’ve been thinking about this:

— His eye definitely bleeds on occasion. Even though he is far more connected to Ford’s body here, he’s still a demon possessing a host. He shouldn’t be there. There’s some outer force keeping him trapped. So I have thought about the fact there would probably be some lasting impacts on the body due to possession exposure for so long, such as the eye bleeding becoming a regular problem and gradual loss of vision in that eye. There may also be other physical impacts, but I’ll work on those when I manage to get down an official design for him.

— Great News! He is like Soos’ weird uncle! That may be where he learned to be somewhat decent around kids, honestly. He absolutely tried to mess with him at first, make jabs, tell him the date of his death, attempt to drive him to madness just a little (this is why Stan had to get rid of the last handyman), but Soos proved to be incorruptible and took all of Stanfraud’s weirdness in stride. Bill does end up caring about him. He goes as far as to liking their conversations. Soos keeps up with his chaos! Even Bill isn’t sure what’s going on in that head of his (when he gets his own body back he’s going to find out).

— Though Bill is the main focus of the plot-change, the other aspects are equally as important and so I’m glad they also have people’s interest! Their first meeting is… tense, to say the least. If Filbrick has any regrets, which I think I’ll leave up to interpretation, he’s far too stubborn a man to show them, and would rather dig himself further into a hole than admit he made a mistake. Stan desperately just wants to ignore all the scathing comments and get this little reunion over with, until Filbrick makes a comment about Ford, then Stan snaps. You can insult him, he probably deserves it, but not his brother. Sure, they may not be his brother right now, but the intent is there, and that’s what counts.

It cuts everything short, with Stan grabbing Fraud and telling him they’re leaving (He doesn’t complain).

With Filbrick, I do kind of want to explore their dynamic over the years while he’s still alive, especially with Stan, but also with how he’d treat ‘Ford’ and his odder behaviour. I don’t want to just make Filbrick a one-dimensional character though, as I think there’s a lot to be said about the cycle of abuse and parental projection so. While the AU may be based around the question ‘what if Bill got stuck possessing Ford?’ The answers it has lead me down a lot of different paths to explore — such as this!

— The powers he has access too lessen over time, but currently he is somewhat capable of seeing potential future outcomes (ciphervoyance), pyrokinesis, telekinesis, faster healing factor and teleportation. Note that all of these are in a much weaker state and drain Ford’s body and by extension Bill heavily — especially teleportation. Doing that once can cause him to pass out, so it’s more of an emergency thing, most his abilities are honestly. Too much focus is required.

And I’m so happy to be a little treat on your dash!! I hope you enjoy all this just as much!

[maknaeswrld]

a life eluded | l.mh, h.js

wc: 6.5k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: pov hopping; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I still feel like they need a warning); all soulmates are gn (they/them pronouns) for sake of future storytelling; past life memories in italics; please please let me know if I missed anything🫶

if you’re new here, start from the beginning: a life forgotten

Soulmates can be a painful thing. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop yourself from running away. 

Riley had left you with a hug, two phone numbers hastily written on a paper towel, and a promise to meet up soon. You and Lia counted off ten minutes before leaving as well, hopefully giving you enough time for Riley and any possible companions to be long gone.

You thought the idea of reaching out to them would scare you, but the more you looked at the numbers, the more you wanted to talk to them. You assumed Bee was the one that had yelled at your soulmates, drawing their attention off you long enough to make a break for it. 

They’ve been looking for you for a long time.

Riley’s words found themselves on repeat in your head, not letting up even slightly. How could they have been looking for you if they’d never met you? They couldn’t possibly have known you. But they still noticed your absence. Enough that it weighed on them, caused them to seek you out even without knowing who you were.

They’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.

Their missing piece. Not a burden, not a hitch in all of their plans, not some unforeseen unfortunate circumstance. You were included in their future long before you even knew of your past, they’d been attempting to seek you out for far longer than you’ve been avoiding ever finding them. In their minds you were the final piece of an extensive puzzle. Their final piece.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were typing both numbers into your phone and creating a group chat. 

Y/n: you didn’t tell me which number belonged to who so i just made a gc, I hope that’s alright.

Unknown Number: Who are you and how’d you get these numbers?

Unknown Number: shut up Bee, I already warned you about this. sorry Y/n, I was rushing a bit, this is Riley and the other number is Bee’s :)

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): WAIT!!! YOU’RE MINSUNGS THIRD?! THE ONE THAT RAN AWAY EARLIER?!

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): Bee istg

Y/n: uhhhh yeah, I suppose that’s me

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): I would’ve run away too, those idiots are so loud

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): you are actually not allowed to talk, I think the only person in existence that can rival Bin’s loud ass is you. the both of you together are my eternal migraine

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): SHUT UP WE AREN’T THAT BAD

You couldn’t help the laugh that wells up in you at their banter, after that you fall into an easy rhythm talking with them. They understand you in a way you’re not sure any of your friends ever have. 

It didn’t take even two days messaging back and forth for the three of you to make plans to meet for coffee, Bee going on about how unfair it is that you met Riley already. You thought you’d be nervous, you spent the whole morning getting ready waiting for the nerves to hit. These were the soulmates of not just two international idols, but close friends to your soulmates who were in the same group. Everything about the situation should be sending you into a spiral of anxious thoughts, but instead you felt more at ease than you do going to dinner with Lia. 

“You look hot, where are you off to?” Your neighbor asked as you were locking the door.

“Coffee with some friends.” It felt too natural, the way friends rolled off your tongue. You hadn’t even met Bee yet.

“Be safe babes.” Your neighbor smiled, entering her own apartment. You weren’t close with your neighbor, but you always looked out for one another. Living alone wasn’t always safe, so having someone who would notice your absence was always a comfort thing for you.

The coffee shop decided on was a twenty minute walk from your apartment, you spent the whole time thinking over everything. When you had found out about your soulmates, one of your biggest concerns was the fact that there were others like you, soulmates of idols who knew who they were supposed to be with and couldn’t get to them. Or worse, that there were friends of yours, people who were the soulmates of the people you knew you had some cosmic bond with, people important to you that you’d never get the chance to remember. 

Due to Stray Kids popularity, you got to have your memories with your soulmates members, the memories of how close you were to each of them as well in every lifetime, but knowing they had soulmates, that you likely were very close to their soulmates, that you couldn’t remember them, devastated you.

And now you were meeting two of them for coffee. The memories with Riley had already started to slowly trickle in after the short time you spent with them in the bathroom, you knew more would start engraving within your deepest memories after more time spent together. The two of you were close in every lifetime, it gave you hope that everything would work out in this one as well.

“Y/n!! Run!!’” Riley laughed, hand holding tightly on yours as the two of you sprinted away from the lady chasing the two of you with a broom. 

“Get out of here, street rats!” The lady called after you. 

After several twists and turns to make certain you were securely away from any possible danger, you both sat against a wall to catch your breath. You started giggling, causing Riley to look at you as if you’d grown two heads. 

“What are you-?” Riley trailed off as you produced two small pieces of bread you’d managed to snake while Riley distracted the mean lady. Riley’s eyes lit up before laughter filled the space coming from the both of you.

You each enjoyed your pieces of bread, savoring the taste and the feeling of something on your stomachs, just sitting in comfortable silence with one another. 

You’d shared your whole lives running the streets, keeping each other alive and moving, and you always thought it’d just be the two of you, until Riley found Chan and your lives got thrown upside down.

You stared at the sign of the tiny rustic looking cafe. It was the type of place you’d go to every day if you knew it existed. Now that you did, you couldn’t imagine not regularly spending time there. You knew deep down, if all went well today, you’d be spending a lot of time there with Bee and Riley.

A bell jingled above the door as you pushed it open.The whole place radiated comfort and you felt at ease instantly.

“Welcome in, I’ll be right with you!” A cheery voice called from what you assumed to be the kitchen.

“Y/n! We’re over here.” You found a table in a small nook surrounded by books where Riley and Bee were sitting, drinks already ordered. “We didn’t know what you might like and Sage already knows our usuals, but we were waiting for you to get food.”

Before you could take one of the open seats between the two, a short person with a bright smile, freckles, and long hair brushed to a shine seemed to dance toward you, hands wiping at their apron, they reached one out for you to shake. 

“I’m Sage, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their grip was firm despite the dainty tinkle of their voice.

“Y/n.” You smiled in return.

“What can I get ya, Y/n?” 

You order your drink, you, Riley, and Bee also putting in your orders for food, and just as fast as Sage had appeared, they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Taking your seat at the little table, you took a deep breath before looking up, only to find Bee and Riley already staring at you.

“So like, when are you gonna finally meet your boys? OW! Fuck Riles, what was that for?!”

Riley pinned Bee with a pointed glare. 

“Are you avoiding your soulmates?” Sage asks, gently placing your cup in front of you and taking the last seat at the table.

You turn beat red at the accusation. “Not exactly.” You mumble.

“Totally is. They found each other young so they’ve had five years together already and now this one seems to think they’re going to ruin everything, even though Min and Ji already know about them and have been looking for them.” Bee stated, sipping out of their own cup. “OW! Fuck, why are you guys always attacking me!?” This time, Bee glared at Sage instead of Riley.

“Because you make yourself an easy target. Listen, Y/n, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while owning this shop and spending way too much time people watching, it’s that no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’re meant to be with who you’re meant to be with. That's just the reality. If you were going to ruin their lives just by them finding you, you wouldn’t be their soulmate. Simple as that. Min and Ji have been in here a few times with Chris and Bin, they’re good ones, I guarantee you could never regret letting them in.”

“Your parents made a good choice with your name.” 

Sage grinned, gently lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a fun name to live up to.”

With that, Sage disappeared into the kitchen once again. 

“They’re right though. I don’t think you could ever regret letting them in.” Riley smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Sage doesn’t know the boys are idols, do they?”

The way they called all of them by names Riley or Bee would refer to them as instead of any full name or stage name struck you as odd. Either they didn’t know or they were the bands inner circle, that thought making a strange sense of insecurity rise up your throat.

“Nah, Sage doesn’t really do technology and only really listens to the radio their grandfather had is his restaurant. They know next to nothing about the idol world, which is why the boys like coming here so much, it’s peaceful and off the beaten path.”

You nodded, sipping your drink. You could understand that, especially with the boys being idols with soulmates, a quiet coffee shop with next to no attention on it is the perfect place to be able to have uninterrupted time together.

Shifting in your seat to look around the small shop more, you found yourself wondering what your soulmates thought of the cozy shop and its somewhat eccentric owner. What were their regular orders here? Did they like having a regular order or did they change it up? You found yourself wanting to know how they decorate their rooms, if they like to read, what they like to watch. You wanted to get to know your soulmates personally in this lifetime, not just what you know of them from every life passed.

A few weeks ago, a few days even perhaps, that would’ve terrified you. You would have found yourself thinking of Jisung and Minho, and these thoughts plenty, but you always shut it down knowing it was fruitless, you wouldn’t get the answers anyways. But now that was different, now they knew you, now they wanted to get to know you just like you wanted to get to know them. Now everything was different, and the two men you love of your memories have a chance to become the men of your present if you so chose. 

While losing yourself in the thoughts, zoning out the conversation happening between the shop owner and your fellow Stray Kids soulmates, your eyes landed on a gorgeous trellis made of wood and covered entirely of vines and flora, reminding you painfully of the arch and altar at your wedding to the two men in one of the very first lives you had a memory of.

“Do not fret, Y/n. No one is going to show up to ruin your marriage tonight, and even if one were to try I am almost positive Changbin and Bee would stop them before you even knew about it.” Sage smiled at you over your shoulder in the mirror, helping you lace up the back of your outfit. 

“My father disowned me because of this wedding, it isn’t entirely implausible for him to not try and put a stop to it.” You sighed, worrying your fingers.

Sage pulled the straps a notch tighter than they needed to go, causing you to yelp and stare at your friend incredulously. “None of that.” Was all that was muttered before you were released and spun around, Sage’s hands finding their way to your shoulders. “Now, you are going to get out there, you are going to marry both of your incredible soulmates, and you are going to let your very oafishly protective elders stop anyone who threatens a bond as beautiful as the one you share with Minho and Jisung. Do you understand me?”

All you could do was nod, tears already welling in your eyes, as you pulled Sage into a tight hug. “Thank you, my friend.” 

“Oh goodness, have the waterworks started already?” Bee teased, leaning casually on the doorframe. “You look great, Y/n. And if you’re ready, so is literally everyone else.”

Squeezing Sage one last time, you smoothed out the non-existent ruffles in your clothes before exiting the building, finding Chan holding a bouquet and waiting patiently leaning against the outside of the tiny cottage. When he looked at you, the emotions welling in his eyes were all you’d ever wanted to see from your father, and while a part of you wished he would have accepted your soulmates, you're more than grateful for Chan stepping up to such an important role.

“Are you ready?”

“More ready than I have ever been for anything.”

And with that, you were led out into the field, to the altar put together with wildflowers and plants, to your soulmates eagerly awaiting you to join them, to the life you’d never regret despite what your father anticipated. 

Because standing there under the floral arch, Jisung’s hand in one of yours and Minho’s in the other, you knew you could never regret them in anything for even a moment.

Minho watched as his lover paced incessantly back and forth in the cutie dorms living room. 

Bee and Riley had informed them that they were in touch with Y/n, their third soulmate, and that they were going out with you for lunch today. Riley refused to tell either boy where they were going, knowing Jisung would show up without hesitation and that Minho would just to avoid leaving Jisung alone in any way.

“What if they decide they don’t want us?” Jisung finally spoke the words that had been weighing on both boys since you disappeared a few nights prior, and even more so since finding out you’d been in touch with Changbin’s and Chan’s soulmates.

If you were in touch with the other soulmates, you could have found Minho and Jisung easily at any point. If you were in touch, one of them found you that night, which means you were likely mere feet from Jisung, as he had been with Riley. There were questions flying through Minho’s head at the same rate as he could see them in Jisungs eyes, but he had to remain calm for his lover, if they were to both spiral, no one would be able to calm Jisung.

“They’re not going to decide that, Sungie. They just found out they have two soulmates, you can’t tell me it didn’t take us a while to process that one too. They’ll find their way to us when they’re ready.” Minho pulled the smaller boy into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of his head.

“What if they’re never ready, Min?” The youngers voice was soft and shaky, Minho felt his heart break at the sound.

“We can’t think like that, Ji. Y/n is having lunch with two of our family at this very moment, if they were never going to be ready they wouldn’t have agreed to that.” Minho tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine at saying your name aloud for the first time in this lifetime, he tried to ignore the peace brought to him just by your name alone. His hold on Jisung tightening, his head burying in the youngers neck. “We’re going to be okay.” He promised, ignoring the persistent what ifs echoing in the back of his head.

What if Jisung was right? What if you were never ready? What if you never chose them because of who they are in this life? As much as Minho wanted to negate those thoughts, memories of lives that turned out exactly like that made him question if this would be one of them. 

His hand tightened around their wrist, trying to pull them back to him. “Why do you keep running away?!”

“Because I have to!” You cried, finally turning to Minho, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I have to.” Your voice breaking on every word.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with me, we can figure it out.”

“Figure what out? Minho, soulmates are not the end all be all. As much as I would love to just run to you, run away from everything but you, I have responsibilities. I can’t just do what I want, not in this lifetime. We’ve found each other, awesome, great, we’re still in two completely different worlds. You’d be better off trying to find the one missing from our memories, you’d have a chance to have a life with them, to be happy with them. Do that Minho. Find our third soulmate, forget about me, and be happy. Because I can never be, that’s just not how this life played out for me.”

“You’re telling me that despite everything, you’re not choosing me?”

“God why do you have such selective hearing?! I don’t get a choice Minho. I never did! I was born into the fucking mafia, people don’t get to just walk away from that simply because they found their soulmate. 

“Soulmates are a weakness just waiting to be exploited, you’ll live your whole life constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly in danger, because of me. Is that really what you want for yourself? For whoever we’re missing? Is that the life you’d choose for someone else? Because I wouldn’t choose this life for anyone and I am begging you to leave Minho. Get out while no one knows, get out while there’s no chance for them to know.”

“But I’ll know.” He hated how broken his voice sounded even to his own ears. “And you’ll know.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he would listen to you, that he’d walk away and never look back. But all you found was a horrifying sense of finality.

Minho wanted to take it away, let you be free of this world you were forced into. He wanted to take your hand in his and never let go, no matter the danger that came with it. 

He watched as your face morphed from the helpless near tears girl into a cold and emotionless woman, and it terrified him that you had been forced to learn to shed all resemblance of emotion within a blink. 

“I will not ever choose you over my family in this lifetime, Lee Minho. Your life isn’t of importance to me and if you’re so keen to get yourself murdered trying to talk me into leaving with you, then so be it. I won’t come to your rescue.” Saying the words felt like driving a knife right into your own heart and twisting, the look on his face as his grip loosened on your wrist only adding to the immense guilt. 

Ripping your arm away from his grasp, you turned on your heel, head held high, tears threatening your lashes, and left him standing there.

Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was pace around like a lunatic, and every now and again stop to stare at his hands. The hands that held you, the hands that let you go.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the way your eyes lit up, the way your smile outshines every star and sunrise he’d ever witnessed. He could hear the perfect harmony of you and Minho singing together, the way you didn’t miss a single syllable in any of his rap parts.

Jisung thought finding you would bring him peace, completeness, the sense of warmth he already knew with Minho, and for those few minutes he had you, you did. 

Now, Jisung figured just knowing you were nearby, knowing you were close enough that maybe he would run into you again would ease the pain in his chest at the memories flashing through his mind, but when Riley informed him that they were on their way to get lunch with Bee, and you, and refusing to tell him where they were going, he felt his heart shatter all over again. His breathing growing uneven at the idea of you being close enough to enjoy lunch with two of his closest friends, and yet nowhere near him. 

So Jisung paced. He walked back and forth and back again until he was dizzy, trying to rid his body of a pent up energy he had no idea what to do with. If he stopped, he assumed he’d collapse into a full blown panic attack, if that were to happen Minho would have to calm him down, and if Minho has to focus on keeping Jisung level headed, he won’t be able to grieve your absence too. 

Jisung knew he was spiraling, knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself out of it this time, but he had to pretend he was okay, he had to let Minho spiral if he needed to, which means he can’t. 

He tried to distract himself. He thought of Minho, of the way he curls into him in his sleep. How Minho nudges his hand, silently begging him to keep scratching his scalp when Jisung gets distracted and stops for any longer than five seconds. The memories of how the late afternoon light filters across Minho’s features, making him look like one of those beautiful paintings Hyunjin talks their ears off about. 

But within these thoughts of his incredible soulmate, flitters in you. The way you had a habit of playing with Jisungs hands, he wondered if you’d still do that in this lifetime. He fell into thinking of the way you would stick your tongue out and furrow your brows when you focused too hard on anything, from washing dishes to sewing up a stab wound. He wondered why he had memories of you sewing up stab wounds, and which lives those were from, what you were like in those lifetimes outside the flits of memories he was gifted from the short amount of time he got to be by your side in this one.  

No matter how hard he tried, everything kept coming back to you. Trying to distract himself by thinking of his other soulmate would lead to memories of him coming home to find both of you curled up together, fragments of time stilled in his mind of the two of you, smiling at each other, at him. He knew he would lose his mind if he were to be forced to remember you in every single way and never get to experience any of it outside of those few minutes he had on the street.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Your voice was like a melody to his ears, despite the harsh words echoing from it. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here.” He countered.

Despite the racing of his heart, the familiarity of you, he had a job. One that required getting through you at any cost. 

“Whatever it is you were sent here for, think very hard, is it worth the cost of your life?”

Jisung didn’t really put a cost on his life. He was raised and trained for one thing only, to carry out orders by any means necessary. And, as if you could sense that in him, you shifted your relaxed stance just slightly, preparing for an attack, but softened your features. 

“There is more to life than what you know, little one.”

At the nickname, he lunged, but it was as if you knew exactly what to expect, perrying and gently placing your hand on his arm, sending the both of you headlong into forgotten memories and lives. 

Coming to, Jisungs guard flew up. He didn’t move, didn’t attempt to attack you, but he shut down every possible emotion you could try to gather from him.

“I can show you a better world. One where you’d be in control of your own life, where you’d have an answer to what is and isn’t worth the cost of it.” 

Your words were gentle, everything about you seemed to be gentle. You softened your stance, returning to the relaxed position, no longer planning to attack him or counter any attacks from him.

“If you give me a chance, I could give you the world.”

“I think I want to meet them.”

Riley shot up from their position sprawled across your couch, Bee’s mouth dropping open in shock. 

“Are you serious?” Riley asked, searching your face for any sense of unease or dishonesty.

You’d been spending endless hours with the two, they’d quickly become your closest friends, aside from Lia. You’d also come to spend a lot of time at Sage’s cafe, quickly learning they are very much a piece of your many lives as well. You were still unsure of how exactly Sage fit into the grand puzzle of lifetimes spent with the same friend group, but you knew they did. Your suspicions only confirmed with Riley and Bee’s agreeance of having Sage within their past lives memories as well.

“Y/n/n, I need you to be so for fucking real right now, do you actually want to meet them?”

You’d seen Bee get serious about stuff before, they weren’t all jokes all the time, but the way they were staring at you at that moment, you knew you had to give the complete honest truth. Bee was protective, and while that insane protective streak has since expanded to you as well, you knew without a shadow of a doubt they’d evescrate you before you had a chance to even think about hurting Minho or Jisung.

“I’m terrified of it, that hasn’t changed. But maybe you’re right, maybe it will work out.” You smile at your friends. “I think I’m ready to risk finding out.”

It didn’t take even twenty whole minutes to get a meeting set up, Riley and Bee dragging you to your room to get you dressed and ready. 

“Is it really a good idea to do this now? I mean, it’s really fast, don’t they want time to like, I don’t know, prepare or something?” You’d been rambling the whole time Bee sat on your lap to hold you in place while fixing your hair. 

“No. Because ‘giving them time’ only gives you time to back out and the last thing we need right now is Ji going into another spiral because he thinks you don’t want them.” You could practically hear the roll of Bee’s eyes as they finally got off you, surveying their handiwork. 

Huffing, you accept your fate as Riley forces an outfit into your arms and shoves you into your bathroom, pulling the door shut.

After getting changed and taking in your appearance, you had to admit, Bee and Riley were good. You’d looked hot, almost to the point of it feeling like it was too much. Taking a deep breath and hyping yourself up in the mirror, you open the door to find Bee and Riley lounging in the hallway, both looking up upon hearing the door open, Riley grinning and Bee letting out a piercing whistle as they take you in, high fiving.

“You’re gonna knock 'em dead, babe.” Bee winked.

You blushed, but couldn’t help the smile stretching across your lips.

“Alright then, let’s do this.”

Not every life went smoothly, not every meeting was practically gold and rainbows. But this one was. Childhood friends and also soulmates is nearly unheard of, most people couldn’t fathom growing up with the memories of every life before the current. But you had met Minho and Jisung at the ripe age of five, Jisung was the baker's son, your mom was looking for work, and you and Jisung were forced to spend hours upon hours every day together.

At first neither of you really understood the full depth of your shared connection, but when you both met Minho, and shared all the same memories with him as well, your young minds didn’t have it in them to care. 

Growing up, the three of you would learn the full extent of what happened, but you never had the disconnect from the memories, having your past lives almost completely integrated with your current. 

“I wish we could find each other young in every lifetime. It made everything so much easier.” Jisung muttered into your hair. You hummed in contented agreement, fingers massaging Minho’s scalp.

“Unfortunately, that’s not gonna be the case Sungie. Some lives will be easier, some will be harder, there may even be some we never meet at all. But at least in this one, we’ll get to love each other for far longer than we went without.” Despite his words, Minho’s voice was a purr and you knew without a doubt that all three of you, whilst scared of what future lives may entail, were perfectly at peace in that one. 

Riley and Bee had never spent so much time away from the boys. 

From the very moment Changbin found Bee, they were a permanent fixture within the group. Bee helped 3Racha write and produce, they were in the studio almost as much as the group, and if they weren’t there, they weren’t far.

Riley, from the moment of finally accepting Chan at least, was never far either. They would always be around, making sure all of the boys were eating, weren’t overworking themselves, taking in enough fluids. 

To put it lightly, the gap of their absences was almost painfully noticeable in the weeks they seemed to all but vanish. Ever since their lunch with Y/n, it’s been as if the two were ghosts in the skz household. 

Jisung knew they were still around, the lack of moping from either of his fellow producers was proof enough, but he hadn’t seen a glimpse of them for days, maybe even weeks. 

He felt as if his world was fracturing. Minho was working tirelessly on new choreography, Bee wasn’t around to help him with songs, Riley wasn’t around to make sure he was drinking water, all of his members were enjoying their break before the next comeback, and he was exhausted. Jisung didn’t know how to get out of his head, and he wasn’t sure who to ask for help from. 

He knew if he kept the pace he was at, he’d inevitably spiral, and that wouldn’t be any good for anyone. Jisung had decided to hide away in his room and sleep, it was the best answer he could come up with, but just as sleep was threatening to finally overtake him, his door burst open, a downright giddy Changbin standing in the threshold.

“I’m about to take a nap, tell me about it later.” Jisung groaned, turning his back to his friend before his friend could say anything.

Changbin, not having any of it, stomped over and ripped the blankets away from the smaller boy, lifting him out of bed, carrying Jisung to the bathroom, despite his protests, and threw him in the shower.

Before Jisung could complain, yell, or even get a thought in, Changbin turned the water on, drenching him in seconds. 

“Y/n wants to meet, get cleaned up and ready to go in ten.” The older boy said before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and leaving an absolutely dumbfounded Jisung to slowly register the words, excitement growing with his understanding. 

````

Weeks. Minho had been trying to get the choreography for the next comebacks title track down for weeks. Everything he came up with didn’t feel right, and when it did he didn’t think it looked right. 

Hyunjin and Yongbok had offered to help, they’d even stayed with him, learning new dances, so Minho could see how it looked with multiple people, for a fresh perspective. But nothing was right. No matter how much Yongbok would swear he thought it flowed well, no matter how easy Hyunjin picked it up, nothing was right. 

Minho knew, deep down, it wasn’t the dances that were off, it wasn’t his choreography at all. He knew it was nothing to do with anything related to music that was wrong, but the only thing he could translate the misconstrued emotions to was dance. 

He created new dances every day to give his body and mind something to do, something to take away the wandering thoughts and memories. He’d rather tire himself to exhaustion than remember how it felt to have you by his side. 

Minho had come to the conclusion that you were not going to choose them, and he couldn’t blame you for it at all. His hopes were up after he’d seen his only hyung work things out with his soulmate, but not everyone could find it in themselves to be with an idol. Being an idol was hard enough, dating one was a whole other demon of its own. 

Despite knowing he has Jisung, despite being overwhelmingly worried about his lover, Minho simply needed to mourn the lover they never had a chance with. He needed his time to accept the fates cruelty upon their lives this time around, and then he’d help Jisung accept it as well. 

So he kept dancing. For weeks.

Minho had always found solitude in an empty dance studio. The way the mirrors would be completely empty save for his figure, the silence filling a typically boisterous room, there was just something peaceful about a place meant to be filled being empty.

He was stretching, preparing for hours of working out kinks in his newest routine completely unbothered. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. They were on break, all of the boys were off doing who knows what, and they were supposed to be relaxing leading up to their busy season. Yet Minho was in the empty dance studio, all by himself. 

He was lost in thoughts, already hacking away at the parts he wanted to rework, mentally trying to decipher how to fix them, when the door to the studio was nudged open. His eyes shifted to the door in the mirror, finding his only hyung standing in the doorway, a small smile gracing his features. 

“You might want to put your plans for the day on hold.” Chan said without even greeting him. 

“Why’s that?” Minho asked, being unable to stop the quirk of his brow. 

“Because we have lunch plans. Are you sweaty?” 

Minho shook his head, “Just got here, I was stretching.”

“Great, put on street shoes and let’s get out of here, we’ve gotta meet Bin and Ji at the dorms.” Chan smiled, moving to grab Minho’s bag for him. 

“What’s the rush?” Jisung hadn’t mentioned any lunch plans with the other producers, but to be fair he and Jisung had been somewhat distant from one another lately.

“It’s a soulmate lunch. Me and Riles, Bin and Beebee, you and your soulmates.”

Minho nodded his agreement, very used to soulmate lunches, working on lacing his street shoes when he froze in realization. 

Him and his soulmates.

````

To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement. You were downright jittery.

Bee and Riley were positioned on either side of you, both steadfast pillars of comfort bringing an almost overwhelming sense of security. You would be okay, because how could you not be with them by your side?

You’d agreed to meet at Sage's cafe for lunch, it was mutual ground and low foot traffic. Perfect for essentially a first meeting with your two idol soulmates and, from your understanding, Bee and Riley’s idol soulmates as well. 

You were ready to bolt. Ready to full on leg it home and lock your door, never to come out again. Despite the peace of knowing three of your closest friends would be there, meeting them was still an absolutely terrifying concept.

The what ifs a plague playing on repeat. What if they don’t like you? What if you ruin everything for them? What if their fans find out? What if, what if, what if. 

But with every bad what if, there was also a good one. What if you fit in seamlessly? What if they don’t care about their fans finding out? What if they are as scared and excited to finally meet you as you are to meet them? What if, what if, what if.

You knew you could bolt. You knew that Bee and Riley talked big, but if push came to shove and you needed an out, they’d have your back and get you out. You knew you could turn on your heel and walk the opposite way and they’d text their soulmates an update, and that yours would more than likely be devastated.

It was the fact that you could that kept you from doing so. The idea of Jisung and Minho waiting for you, the mental image of them deflating after hearing you’d change your mind, the thought of them being upset due to your actions, pushed you forward, kept you walking, and you knew no matter what you walked in on, you wouldn’t be able to back out now. You wouldn’t be the one to break the loves of your every lifetime. 

Seeing the familiar shop, your heart was in your throat. There would be no turning back, no changing your mind. In choosing to meet them, you chose to give them the ball, everything would be up to them, and the closer you got to the cozy shop, the more you realized you were truly okay with that.

You were never actually nervous about meeting your soulmates, you were giddy about it. 

As you pushed the door open, letting the familiar sound of its little bell notify Sage of your arrival, your eyes found your soulmates in record time, both sat at the table under the trellis covered in flora and vines. Your breath caught at the smiles gracing both of their faces, and you knew.

Even though soulmates can be a painful thing, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to run away from yours again. 

a/n: ahhhhh it’s almost overrrr😭🥺🥺 this was gonna be a lot angstier and then it just, wasn’t. and idk what that’s all about but I like how it turned out lol. I dragged my feet on writing this part for actual weeks and then wrote like, 5k of it in two days, so I hope it was good haha! thank you so so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts!!🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @starlostastronaut @mariteez @tired-of-life-86 @skizmee @elisiexoxo @cutiespaghetti @httpswilloww @sundownimup-1 @lolareadsimagines @rockstrhanji @quokkampi @kayleefriedchicken @vivirantshere @ciellebys

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Everything Falls Into Place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: fluff, worrying about not being able to adopt a child, anxiety

Request by anon: Aww if steve and vixen settle down imagine them fostering or adopting a child. In their words "adoption helps a kid"

Summary: You and Steve start the process of adopting a child. There are a lot of steps that you have to go through, including a background check. You're worried about your past as Vixen is finally going to bite you in the ass. This is it. This is the other shoe you've been waiting for to drop.

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: social worker au (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

“What is taking her so long?” you sigh impatiently.

“She’s only been gone five minutes. Calm down,” Steve chuckles from beside you. Steve looks over at you to see you bouncing your leg from how nervous you are. You’re wringing your fingers together to keep yourself from biting your nails. “Y/N, you’re acting like a criminal who just got caught. Take a deep breath.”

“Steve, this woman is the decider on whether or not we have a child. Forgive me if I’m a little anxious.”

Your social worker, Amy, takes another ten minutes before she’s back in the office, and you let out a relieved sigh that she hasn’t kicked you out… yet.

“I am so sorry. We’re extremely backed up,” she says and takes a seat across from you.

“It’s no problem,” Steve smiles politely.

“So, you’re looking to adopt a child? It’s a big responsibility.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve actually been wanting this for a while now.”

“Why now? Why not then?”

You and Steve look at each other in thought. Maybe it’s because you two were out fighting in wars you had no business being in. Maybe it’s because you finally came face to face with Zemo again after so many years of being away from him, and you almost killed him. Maybe it’s because even though you think you’re ready to be parents… you’re actually not.

“We felt like the timing wasn’t right,” Steve finally answers and peels his eyes away from you.

“Have you always wanted to have children?”

“Yes, I have,” Steve answers honestly. “For as long as I could remember.”

“And you?” Amy asks.

“In the beginning, yes. I mean, when I was a lot younger. Some shit happened to me and I didn’t allow myself to feel that way until recently. Maybe in the last couple of years? I can’t have children biologically, but I do want one.”

“I never know how to ask this question despite how many years I’ve been doing this, but what kind of parents would you two be?”

“I can’t say for sure. How can anyone know for sure? We’ve never taken care of a child before. There will be obstacles that we might not know how to get over but I can tell you one thing. We will do our very best to make sure this child is loved, safe, and raised to be the best person they can be.”

“That’s a good answer,” Amy smiles and writes in her notebook. Steve rubs his thumb on the back of your hand comfortingly. “This is going to be a long process but I have confidence that it will go by quicker than you think.” She hands over a piece of paper to Steve. “Here is a list of everything I will be needing by the end of this week. Legal papers. You know how it goes. Next will be an extensive background screening for everyone living in the adoptive household. After that will be the in-home interview and inspection of the home.”

You don’t hear anything past background screening. What if they find out about Vixen? They won’t want to give you a child when they figure out how many people you’ve killed. What if they come for the home inspection and find your room of weapons? You’re not getting a kid.

“Okay,” you squeak out.

Steve notices your panic but decides not to say anything about it until you two leave the office building.

“What’s going on?”

“What if they find out about Vixen? The Winter Soldier? My time in Hydra?”

“They won’t--”

“What if they do?” you cut him off. “What if they don’t see me fit to be a mother? What about the guns and shit we have at the house? They’re not going to allow us to be parents with all that there.”

“Baby, you need to calm down. We’re going to do fine.”

His words go in through one ear and out the other. You hear him talk but you’re not listening to a word he’s saying. When you get home, you immediately head to the room with all your weapons and begin taking them off the wall. If you’re going to make this house suitable for a child, you have to make sure it’s safe for one.

“Y/N, it’s going to be fine.”

“No, it’s not. We live in a state where it’s illegal to carry outside your home. We aren’t even allowed to have this many weapons in the house.”

Steve knows you have to do this in order to make yourself feel better. He leaves you to box the weapons while he gets his phone out of his pocket. He calls Bucky, Sam, and Nat to come over because he thinks having them here is going to help you. He has always been the more level-headed one in the relationship which is why he’s being so calm about this. He has faith that everything is going to work out just fine.

“How long has she been like this?” Nat asks when she gets there.

“Since we left the social worker.” They know you and Steve have wanted a child for a while now. “Nothing I say matters.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Natasha says and walks into the room. “You doing okay?”

“No, I’m not. I have to get these weapons out of here. Can you keep them for a while?”

“Sure. You’re going to do just fine. If anyone deserves a kid, it’s you two.”

“No, it’s not okay. Amy is going to come in here and see all these weapons and she is not going to give us a child. This isn’t safe for one. Or she will know I’m Vixen and think wow, a mass murderer assassin doesn’t deserve a kid. Or she’ll know about Bucky, Thanos, and everything else we have done in our lives.”

“Would it help if we helped you?”

“Yeah,” you smile.

Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Steve help clear out the room until it’s bare. This is the room you’re going to use for the nursery. You don’t have any supplies since you’re not sure when you’re going to be getting a kid, so you’ll keep it bare for now. Bucky and Nat take the weapons to hold onto until this whole thing blows over. Your house has a basement that you can put them into only until after the inspections are done.

On the day of the interview and home inspection, you have cookies baking in the oven to give the home a sweet smell. You have been cleaning all day to ease your worries. Steve is nervous as hell but less than you are.

“I think this is the tenth time you fluffed that pillow.”

“It has to be perfect.”

“It is. You are. It’s going to be fine.”

“I know. It’s going to be great,” you smile. Amy shows up on the dot, and you let her in eagerly. “Welcome to our home. It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you. Wow, smells good in here.”

“I have cookies that just left the oven. Would you like one?”

“No, thank you. I have two more visits to do. Not to sound rude but I’d like to get started right away.”

“Of course.”

You two lead her to the living room and sit across from her. Steve reaches for your hand and pulls it into his lap.

“To start with, why don’t you two tell me what you two do for a living?”

“We are employed with Stark Industries,” Steve says. Happy sends money to every Avenger on behalf of Tony. You don’t need a job when your job is saving people who need it. Does she not know you two are Avengers? “We make about two hundred thousand each every year.”

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“We love it. I can’t see myself doing anything else.”

“What are some of your hobbies?” Amy asks you.

“I love to sew. I love making my own clothes. I actually made my own wedding dress. It brings me peace whenever it’s just me, a needle, and some fabric.”

“And you?” Amy asks Steve while writing in her notebook.

“I like to draw, sometimes. I’ve been practicing more these days. I like to fish. We have a cabin up north that we like to go to when the weather is nice.”

“Tell me about your marriage, and how your relationship is with your significant other.”

You look at Steve and smile lovingly at him.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this man. He has saved me in ways you can’t possibly imagine. He’s my best friend. Sure, we have our ups and downs, but there is nothing we can’t accomplish together.”

“She said it right,” Steve chuckles. “I love her with all of my being. Our marriage has been nothing but great for these past few years. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“That’s sweet,” Amy smiles and writes. “Tell me about your relationship with your parents.”

“Both our parents are dead. We don’t have any living relatives,” you answer. 

“To get with the technical questions, why do you want to adopt?”

“I’ve mentioned this before but I’m sterile. I can’t have children on my own. I know Steve wants a family. This is the only way I know how to give it to him. We don’t want to do fostering or a surrogate. We feel like it’s more our style to adopt.”

“What she said,” Steve chuckles.

“If granted the opportunity to adopt, what are your hopes for your child?”

“That they’re a good person,” Steve answers. “That they’ll see someone who needs help and will want to do that for them. Who will love unconditionally.”

“Alright,” Amy writes. “This is everybody’s least favorite section. I’ve done your background checks.” Your heart drops. This is it. This is where she tells you that you can’t adopt. “Now my main concern is your work with Hydra. You are the Vixen.”

“Were,” you correct. “I’m not that person anymore. Yes, I have done a lot of bad things in my life. Things you can’t possibly imagine. That isn’t who I am now. I have healed from that part of me. I got help. I made amends. I got Hydra out of my head. I don’t associate myself with those people anymore.”

“What about Bucky?”

“Bucky is healed, as well,” Steve takes over. “He went to Wakanda and underwent the same thing she did. They’re both trying to move on from their past.”

“That’s all it is, Amy. It’s my past. It’s not my present and it sure as hell isn’t going to be my future.”

Amy goes through more routine questions before she gets ready for the house inspection. You tell her the plans you have for the empty room which will be the nursery. She doesn't say much but she does write a lot of stuff down.

“Thank you for coming,” you say when she is done.

“I’ll be touch.”

As soon as the front door is closed, your smile is lost.

“God, we’re not going to get a kid. Did you see the look on her face when she mentioned Vixen? She knows I’ve killed before. What person would want me to be a mother?”

Steve pulls you close and lets you vent. “We won’t know more for a while. Let’s just try and keep a calm head. Even if she says no, we can try other avenues. We will be parents. You’d be a loving mother.”

And wait you did. For two long weeks. You thought that was their way of telling you that you weren't going to have a kid. Until your phone rang and changed your entire life.

“Hello?” you answer frantically.

“Hi, Y/N? I have some news regarding your adoption application.” You and Steve wait with held breaths. “I am very happy to say you’ve been approved. I can’t wait to work with you.”

“We can get a kid?” you ask tearfully.

“That’s the first part of the process. We have sent in your application to mothers who are looking to put their children up for adoption. If and when they pick you, I will call with the next steps.”

“Thank you so much.” You cry when she hangs up. “We’re getting a kid.”

Steve pulls you in and kisses the top of your head emotionally. You have to wait for a birth mother to pick you so until then, you just have to wait. Most couples wait months or even years to get called, but you get a call from Amy only a couple of days later with a date set to meet a birth mother who chose your application among a few others. You’re nervous as hell because what if she doesn’t pick you? What if she hates you as soon as she meets you?

You get to the office where the meetings are held and wait for Amy and the birth mother to come. Her name is Jessica and she is too young to be having a kid. She is only twenty-three and she doesn't want kids at this age. Maybe when she is older but definitely not now.

Jessica walks in and seems to be about six months pregnant. She just came back from meeting a potential couple, so you straighten up and smooth down your skirt to make yourself look more presentable.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you two. My name is Jessica.”

“Y/N and this is my husband, Steve. Thank you for seeing us.”

“Yeah, I was intrigued when I read about your hobbies and your work with Stark Industries. Did you know Tony?”

“Uh, yeah.” You look at Steve and have a silent conversation through your eyes. If she is going to pick you, she should know exactly who you are. “I hope this doesn’t affect us negatively but he’s Captain America and I’m… Vixen.”

It takes Jessica all of five seconds before she starts crying. This is it. This is where she runs for the hills and gets you blacklisted from ever adopting a child.

“Captain America saved my life,” she sniffles. “I was visiting a friend in Sokovia when Ultron happened. You saved me.” She turns to Amy and wipes her eyes. “I don’t want to see anyone else.” She looks at you with a teary smile. “I can’t think of anyone better to care for my child than you two.”

“I’ll get the paperwork started,” Amy smiles and leaves the room.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You’re getting a kid. You’re getting a kid. You’re finally able to start your own family.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[olympeline]

FrUK FACE family Parent Trap AU, part 9! Part 1

Last time: shock! Horror! Alfred, and by extension the whole scheme, just got rumbled! By Uncle Gil of all people! Who could have seen it coming? Not Alfred. But then he hasn’t known Gilbert long. Under that nutty exterior tick-tick-ticks a surprisingly sharp mind. Gilbert had been suspicious almost from the start. He didn’t say anything because that’s not his way. But now things have gone on long enough that even Gilbert has to step in. If for no other reason than he needs some news of Mattie.

So, under threat of an immediate call to Francis, Alfred is forced to confess all. They sit down over delicious and nutritious frosting sandwiches and Alfred tearfully confessses all that’s gone down since the twins were reunited. Everything from their chance meeting to their time living the other’s identity. Gilbert doesn’t let him off the hook, prodding for details and making Al show him his phone so he can confirm what’s been said. Alfred burns with embarrassment when Gilbert scans some of his early descriptions of him (the words “freaky” “weird” and “totally batshit” may or may not have been used) but Gil doesn’t comment. The let up in the grilling (gilling?) is when Gilbert sees a picture of Arthur in his conservative dad clothes.

“HA!! Mein gott, that’s precious! Old punkass, slutbag Kirkland turned into a right old tory, huh kid?”

“What’s a tory?”

“Ask your dad. He dresses like one of their rentboys.”

“What’s a rentboy?”

Gilbert changed the subject after that. To what the two of them intented to do now. How long were they planning to keep this up? What were they hoping to achieve? Alfred just shrugs helplessly. They weren’t really hoping anything. He tells Gilbert they just wanted to get to know the other half of their family. Finding the missing piece that’s always been there for both of them. Gilbert listens, takes another look at Alfred’s phone, then gives it back. Alfred sees it’s open on a selfie of Mattie and Arthur. Matthew has an Alfred-style big, sunny beam. Even after playing his brother for weeks, Mattie isn’t a good enough actor to fake it to such an extent. Gilbert knows him well enough to see that.

Alfred haltingly asks what Gilbert’s going to do now. Gilbert is quiet for a long time. Then he shakes his head, grins, and ruffles Alfred’s hair.

“I’m no snitch, kaulquappe, and I always thought what your dads did was moronic. I can’t imagine doing nothing after finding out what you did. Hell, if it were me and Lud I would have done the same. So don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Really?!” Alfred’s heart leaps and so he does too. Right off the couch. “YAHOO! Thanks, Uncle Gil! I-”

The rest is cut off when Gilbert stuffs a sandwich in his mouth.

“Cool your jets, yanketito. I wasn’t done! Remember I told you about my lil bro’s wedding?”

Alfred nods through a mouthful of frosting.

“Mmhm.”

“Gut. Obviously I’m going down to liberty land to be his best man. Ha! As if he’d dare choose anyone else! I’ll put Honda over my damn knee and spank him with his own bodypillow if he even thinks of muscling in on my territory!”

Alfred has no idea who this Honda is but pities him anyway. He nods as that seems the safest option.

“Mmhm.”

“So! I’ll be going down to NYC. And you’ll be coming with me.”

Gilbert gives him that rust-coloured stare again and Alfred, for one of the few times in his life, knows it would be futile to argue. Uncle Gil is like a force of demented nature.

“Like I said, I won’t snitch but this can’t go on forever. So enjoy your time up here, kid. It just got a curtain call, ja?”

Alfred swallows the sandwich and nods. What else can he do? Gilbert holds all the cards and they both know it.

“…Ja.”

“YEAH! Good choice! Now, call Mattie. Tell him to get his maple-print panties in a bunch because Uncle Gil knows and Uncle Gil wants to talk.”

(Have a small update! I’ve been very busy lately and I will be for a while so I can’t promise when there’ll be more. Just when I can snatch a few minutes. Until then, please enjoy and stay tuned for part 10! (´ε｀ )♡)

[scythlyven-art]

hi! i just found your art and holy fuck it's amazing. I'm sending this cause I'm curious about your warlock au you mentioned in one of the posts and if youd be willing to share any info on it

Hi! I’m glad you found my little hole here and that you like my art!! :D

There’s not too much info to share on the warlock au other than snippets I’ve written on Twitter about it but I can share the basics! (Ie just coping some of my tweets lol this is quite the novel so sorry in advance but you did ask for it)

“Basically the au is normal VM minus Percy. Percy in this au is sort of a combo of him and Orthax (some) power and appearance wise. He’s a demon that lives. In a big fancy sciencey castlevania Dracula style castle by himself.

He controls the only known major deposit of White Stone for Residuum and the area is watched over by loyal undead servants or animated suits of armor and the whole area is hidden away.

Not a big user of magic still but it comes free with being a ✨ demon ✨

In a direct fight between Percy and the Briarwoods Percy would easily win- his centuries of knowledge vs a relatively new vampire and necromancer they don’t stand a chance. Which is why they resort to cheating of sorts using an artifact beyond their power.

Whispered One hooks them up with it and they basically wait until the right moment to catch Percy completely off guard before sealing him away in it. There’s not much he can do once he’s trapped and the Braidwoods take full control over the Residuum supply.

Cut to 5 ish years later and VM stumble upon some oldish ruins with a few corpses and hidden treasures. One of which is an old brooch that was given to Percy centuries ago by his human sister- it means a lot to him but has been lost for awhile.

Vex finds it and thinks it looks pretty cool so she holds onto it. It has magical properties from Percy’s possession of it so despite his cage he can sense it being moved and handled. He decides to pay a visit to the new current owner of it later that night in a dream.

It’s a lot of smoke and darkness on Vex’s end. She can’t really tell who or what she’s looking at but it’s vaguely human. In the few hours prior Percy poked around her mind (not extensively) just learning a few things about her.

He proposes to her a deal— he can grant her some extra power (to the extent his cage will let him) as well as knowledge to aid her in battles and to make new arrows and outfit her bow with modifications to make it stronger.

In return she helps free him from his prison.

She wants reassurance he’s not evil since he’s all smokey and clearly a demon of some kind. He can’t guarantee her he hasn’t done things she as a mortal might find evil but generally speaking he’s pretty neutral since he is the main supplier of Residuum for the world.

She needs time to think and process the deal. He tells her to take her time since he isn’t exactly going anywhere. But as a token of his good intentions he spots her some of his magic over the next few days which may or may not help convince her to agree.

She eventually agrees and the pact is sealed. A smokey tattoo takes up the lower part of her inner forearm. She’s careful not to roll up her sleeves or show this in any way to the group. But from this point forward she can freely talk to Percy at any time. The only catch is while she hears him in her mind she has to verbally respond.

Her internal thoughts are kept away from Percy which is good and bad because now she has to be careful about when she can respond so the others don’t think she’s crazy and start asking questions.”

-

I’ve spotted some more ideas from this but I feel like this sums up the main details. I’d love to possibly write it someday but I’m currently working on a fic still and I’m more of an artist than a writer. If I try to start this as a fic before finishing the other one neither will get done :’)

But yeah I hope this answered your question!!

[muldermuse]

Your first date? Or your first time with fox mulder 👀👀

Thank you for sending this through!!! I hope it's ok <3

If u have any ideas for Fox Mulder fics/headcanons/aus anything pls send them throuuuuuuugh. I will be forever grateful <3

He’s nervous, Scully has been giving him sly looks throughout the day as he���s been trying his hardest to keep it together. The day has been littered with small mistakes, starting with accidentally throwing his takeaway coffee in the trash to biting his pen and not realising the blue ink had covered his shirt with soaking blotches. He tried to ignore the superstitious voice in his head telling him that the day (and your first date) was determined to go badly. 

He asked you out on a date the third time he met you, initially the date was planned to be that week, however, a bout of sickness had made you bed bound. You called to apologise and rescheduled for the same date next week, unfortunately, Fox had a case that had taken him out of town. He called you from his crappy motel; his stomach filled with knots at the thought of letting you down. 

Your fingers twisted around the phone cord as you laid on your bed sheet. “You know, I’ve heard some pretty good date cancelling excuses. But travelling to Minnesota to catch a demonic stray dog i-“

He interrupted, “I think you mean, potential werewolf sighting” 

His voice made you blush, it always did, you felt the warmth rise up your chest. “Well, I know that Scully thinks it’s something along the stray dog lines.”

He smiled, you made him feel less alone, even in this dusty motel room hundreds of miles away from you- you were making him smile. “I am really sorry to cancel, I’m back on Sunday. I’ll pick you from the apartment at 2?”

***

So, it’s the third attempt at a first date and he’s nervous. He parked outside your apartment at 1:30 and had been building up the courage to go in. He knew that 30 minutes was too early, at 1:40 he thought he may as well wait for ten more minutes. However, at 1:42, he made his way up to your door. He had your coffee order, a pastry and a bunch of lilies gripped nervously in his hand. He thinks about knocking on your door, or should he ring the bell? Before he has time to consider each option more critically, the door opens and there you are. 

You take his breath away.

He knows that you’d class what you’re wearing as nothing special, but to him you look incredible as always. You’re slightly more made up than usual, your eye lids dusted with a muted brown and your mascara making your lashes look even longer. Your lip liner and lip gloss combo enhances your mouth and all he can think about in that moment is kissing you. Your hair is down and behind your shoulders; you smile awkwardly at him. 

“Oh my god, please tell me I look okay! I’ve spent ages deciding what to wear, at first I chose a dress but then I thought it might be too much and then I de-“. He could tell you were panicked and nervous; just the same as him. He held your hand as he gently pressed a kiss to your cheek, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume as he said with as much confidence as he could muster, “you look amazing. I’m looking forward to spending the day with you.” 

The date is a walk around the park near your apartment, then a trip to a book store which Fox always talks about and then a late lunch at a restaurant you’ve talked about extensively. You’ve been looking forward to it as much as he has. Your previous dates have usually started at 7pm and you’ve been emotionally checked out, or repulsed, by half past.

On the walk, you found out more about his work and how much his career meant to him. He asked you about your job and your future dreams. You noticed that he smiled throughout, looking at you with a grin on his face as he heard you talk about where you wanted to be in five years. In the bookstore, you realised how similar you were as you perused the endless aisles. Seemingly every book you went to pick up he had read or had at home on his shelf. 

“I have most of the ones you’re interested in, you could always come round and choose some.” 

“Fox, if that’s a way to get me into your apartment and to see your water bed- I swear”. A smirk crossed his face as a red tinge covered his cheeks,

“I mean- can you blame me for trying?”

As you both got more comfortable throughout the date, you noticed both yourself and Fox becoming more flirty with each other. You’d hold his arm when he made you giggle, he’d blush when you got closer to him and he’d intertwine your fingers with his in quiet moments.

***

The restaurant was quietening down, it was the liminal zone between the lunch rush and early diners. The candles were lit on each table despite the sun shining outside, only around a quarter of the tables were full as soft music played. All of a sudden, you seemed to remember that you were on a date with the person you have a crush on and you felt a pang of anxiety hit you. Fox seemed oblivious to your rising nerves as he idly chatted through the menu and ordering water for the table. 

He looked so so good today. His hair was perfectly off his face and his smile seemed brighter than it ever had before. Before your thoughts could spiral more about your sudden prick of nervousness, you felt his warm hand cover yours and quell your ill feelings in an instant. His touch grounded you back to the moment. “I’m going to get a bottle of white, is that okay? We can get soda as well if you’d like”.

You moved your hand to hold his fingers with a squeeze, “White is great, thank you”. With his soft eyes and sweet smile in front of you, the nerves seemingly dissipated from your body and you felt a blush creeping up your chest. This was the best date you’d ever been on and you knew in that moment that you had to let him know.

You got a main each and then shared a dessert. The wine was going down easily and you were on your second bottle with no intentions to get a third. The alcohol was coursing through your veins which resulted in a permanent smile being on your face. 

“You know” he swiped his spoon through the caramel chocolate mousse in front of you, “you’ve been smiling at me for the past twenty minutes”. He put the spoon in his mouth and winked at you.

“Maybe I’m having a really good time,” you picked up your wine glass and sipped the remaining liquid, “or, maybe it’s the wine.”

He threw his head back with a laugh, “It’s definitely the first one.”

The bill arrived and Fox paid before you could argue, you made a mental note to pay for the second date. The sun was setting as you left the restaurant and before you could step further outside, Fox held your hand tightly in his.

***

“So, this is me…” The conversation had continued to flow as you walked back to your apartment, you took the long route to prolong the time you could spend with him. You both awkwardly stood in front of your front door. Neither of you wanted this night to end. You could invite him inside for a coffee, you could say that your bedroom light was flickering and you would like him to take a look at it. You couldn't end it without a big move and with the liquid courage still in your body; you pressed your lips to his. 

You brought your hands up to cup his face as you kissed him. His nose nudged against yours as his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer to him as you felt him smile against your lips. The taste of chocolate and sweet caramel still lingered on his lips. His forehead touched yours as your fingers interlocked at the nape of his neck. He looked at you with a hunger in his eyes, wordlessly you held his hand as you unlocked your front door and dragged him inside.

“Third times the charm, I guess” He laughed as you locked the door.

[emry-stars-art]

okay but what happens after andrew confirms that yes he has indeed been courting neil f o r e v e r? like what is neil's reaction 👁️👁️

@ myself: wow haha this got angsty

I know I’m in a fluffy mood but I needed to sit down and really think about this (mind maps and random thought association and all) and it is not great at first! Neil’s immediate reaction, I mean 😭

First, here’s Andrew’s side of the thing for your reading pleasure

And I don’t know how to write Abram’s pov in scene form because it’s so like. Heartbreaking insane in my head. Yes, first there’s 100% this thought process (that’s supposed to be slightly comical but became not that, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean for this to happen) thank you @jtl-fics for the comments I’ve screenshotted from this post:

Second: he begins to feel incredibly guilty that he’s taking this from someone that’s infinitely much more deserving, whoever that is, as long as it’s not him. He was ready for Andrew to find someone he actually deserves. Now he feels like he’s ‘tricked’ Andrew into developing feelings for him, like Abram is a persona that isn’t real enough for Andrew to fall for but he’s tricked him anyway.

Third: Abram is an extension of Andrew’s resources. He’s still an attack dog but one that’s been re-homed, allowed to be much less violent and treated with respect and care that he can accept even if it doesn’t always feel deserved. Abram keeps a dagger at his hip to protect himself, Andrew keeps Abram. When Andrew asks “not what,” it’s something like I’m not that, I’m not an option, I am not even close enough to touch. There is no Abram, there is nothing here for you to love. You can’t. But even if there isn’t, Abram doesn’t need to be a person in that way for Andrew to handle him, use him, however he wants to.

That’s when Abram calms down, I think. That’s something he knows. He’s repressed his own feelings for Andrew so deep that he’d take it, too, he really would let Andrew use him if he wanted to. And it would be the best thing that ever happened to him. He thinks if Andrew is so certain he wants Abram this way, he can be perfect. Abram can be perfect for him, he’s determined to be.

(But that’s a thought process that comes on so quickly and so fully that Abram’s brain actually does let go of his personhood again. This time, though, with no one telling him to attack, he tries instead to be whatever he thinks Andrew wants. So - compliant and receptive.

This is not what Andrew wants.)

But after Abram takes his time away, talking to both Allison and Katelyn about it (they’re both really helpful in their own distinct ways) he understands that Andrew really meant it - he wants Abram as a person that he’s able to have, he wants Abram’s personality and his words and the parts of him he can’t control. Maybe Abram doesn’t even fully realize the scope of his own feelings before accepting the courtship, this time with a clear head and almost shaking with nerves but with a different kind of certainty that Andrew actually does accept. It takes a long time and a lot of assurance but Andrew is patient, until Abram will return gifts and gestures of affection. It actually does so so much to help Abram reclaim his humanity, seeing newly familiar behaviors directed at him with real intention.

Thank you for the ask, this was a point I felt was important to figure out for a while and this prompted me to get around to it! Probably not what you imagined but i uhhh. Sorry 🤧

(Curious? Find a small masterpost of this royal au here 💕)

[nocturr]

your desert duo western au art got onto the tumblr login page background!! I saw it and thought I'd tell you :D it's pretty cool!

Thank you!

I remember showing my friend the message I got from tumblrbot worrying it was a scam only for her to be like “OH MY GOD”,

It still feels a little surreal to me, but at least I can now brag about how i’ve achieved greatness by getting them on the login screen (and by extension radar)

[wyrmswears]

hello hello wyrm!! i mentioned a day or so ago that i’ve been meaning to send you an ask and here it is o7

in your inhuman thundersnow au (which has me hook line and sinkered btw) i know that you’ve said that raijū (particularly lightning elementals) draw strength and power from their lightning. and although jay’s had time to develop his natural lightning, if he was to use shatterspin - a technique that corrupted the soul and by extension the element - would it affect his raijū form? 

and on a similar vein - did libber know that it was mostly the element of lightning that powered her raijū form? did she know that it wouldn’t last and that eventually she’d fizz out? and if she did - did she ever tell the other elemental masters? did they ever know or suspect that one day she would be gone, without anything left behind?

if youre new here, this is about my inhuman thundersnow au

ok, ive been pondering this and i think itd be interesting for it to cause a larger split between his raijū and human identities. the way i headcanon shatterspin’s effects right now is that it makes the element stronger at the cost of stability. jay’s lightning is more potent in his raijū form (since that form is just a better conductor, and i can imagine his natural lightning spiking when hes in it) so i can see him slipping into his raijū form more often, sometimes without even realising it, after performing shatterspin. furthermore, in that form he feels the strengthening effects more, making him more aggressive and reckless, and at the same time prone to losing himself in a completely different way to before shatterspin. in an earlier post about inhuman thundersnow au i mention him losing himself by becoming something lesser rather than something greater. by becoming a part of nature and the natural order. shatterspin flips this on its head and pretty much centres his thoughts on his own being and benefit. this ultimately makes him much scarier in his raijū form as hes more powerful, more aggressive, and acting with intent. im also leaning towards having a longer-term effect of making him sick. if he used shatterspin a number of times, his element could begin to depend on it for strength, meaning when the shatterspin wears out, his functioning largely decreases. he is fatigued and suffers from brain fog and nausea. this is particularly bad in his raijū form, but hes also grown used to being in that form since shatterspin feels better with it. its a miserable feeling that only makes him more eager to further shatter his soul, when in reality recovery can only come after he detaches himself from shatterspin entirely.

in some random tags of another post i remember talking about libber understanding her death after passing on her powers in some instinctual way. she’s knowledgeable on general raijū lifespans and therefore knows that she’d fizz out one day, but she didn’t understand her dependency on her element at first. this ask is really interesting and its made me love the idea of libber realising that she needs her lightning to live one time but not comprehending completely what that means. picture this: the elemental alliance encounters vengestone at one point and libber only so briefly comes in contact with it, but for that brief moment she is dying. she knows that shes dying - its instinctual knowledge that comes with the feeling - and its a sensation that haunts her afterwards. the fear it leaves her with manifests itself as paranoia and for a few weeks she stays silent about the events until ice asks her what happened and she finally discloses it. ice understands what happened, of course he does, he knows these things, and warns her about her dependency on the lightning element. the others don’t find out about the incident, and eventually it leaves libber’s mind completely. she doesn’t foresee her death once jay inherits her element until its happening. the masters that remain after libber passed away don’t know much at all about raijū’s deaths - that information was never relevant enough for libber to share it - and dont know that any attempts to look for a body would fail. they might have even expected libber to have a longer-than-human lifespan, so her disappearance would come out of the left field for them.

[dxppercxdxver]

Hey! I’m in love with the spytown au you came up with and I’ve had some thoughts that could kind of connect

I’m writing a Hadestown Mashup AU and I got to covering Word To The Wise and His Kiss, The Riot, and I was considering thematically drawing a parallel to When The Chips are Down and Gone, I’m Gone, because narratively they’re similar.

In the song before each of these, both Hades and Eurydice are given choices, for Eurydice, Hades gives her the coins and for Hades, he has to choose to let Orpheus and Eurydice go.

Then in the Fates’ number the Fates then lay it out plainly in the way they want it to end, posing a question “What’re you gonna do when the chips are down/now?” and then telling Eurydice all the reasons she has to leave, making the decision easier for her, and telling Hades that he can’t keep them or simply let them go, and then the Fates dangle a solution in the face of their ‘victim’, for want of a better term, for Hades, it’s let the lovers go, but give them the tools to punish themselves, so his hands are technically clean and for Eurydice, it’s her ticket to the underworld.

Then Eurydice and Hades have solos about their choice before settling on a decision. I’m not sure musically on any similarities between Gone, I’m Gone and His Kiss, The Riot, but stylistically, they’re similar. They’re both quiet solo numbers for the relevant principal characters to sing about what their choice is. HKTR is a lot angrier and more rough and bitter, reflecting Hades’ character better than the mournful GIG, which reflects Eurydice’s reluctance to leave Orpheus. The key thing tying these together is the sense of despair and hopelessness as the singers know they have no choice but to go through with it.

The Fates know what needs to happen and make sure it does every time, they know what to say to Eurydice and Hades to get the right conditions for the Fated tragedy, no matter how many times they sing it.

Now think about this in terms of the Spytown AU, where Owen is both Eurydice and Hades. If we think of it in terms of an actual musical, this could serve phenomenally to highlight that they’re the same person, just stuck in a damn loop.

But if it’s a real event, it just hammers in the despair for Owen, who’s trapped by the Fates and it’s technically his fault, even though he can’t go against them, and then it’s a vicious circle specifically causing the loops as they’re the two main catalysts for the doomed walk. The first, when Owen is Eurydice!Owen, sending him there in the first place, and the second, assuring that the walk happens as intended, causing Curt!Orpheus to realise the cycles and turn, dooming them both to this over and over and over ad nauseam.

-Myth🦋

no all of this is exactly what led to me casting owen as both hades and eurydice

hades is a natural extension of what eurydice’s whole life has been leading to (clinging to everything she can keep her hands on, only to Major Extremes), just as persephone is orpheus’s traits amplified (placing positivity and Herself above the needs of those around her to some degree)

like. Yeah. these songs Are similar. and it’s Bonkers. madam mitchell i owe you my life

[asktherejectsau]

It’s been a while, huh?

Hello everyone.

I apologize for the incredibly long hiatus as I did not expect to be away from this account for over a year but a lot has happened in my personal life that was out of my control and unfortunately, I was not in the correct mental state to be pumping out content in the way that I was with this AU.

While I’m not going to explain the full brevity of it here, I’ll try to put it as simply as I can without divulging too much personal information. I don’t want any further questions regarding my life irl as I want to keep that separated from this project completely. But for this update, I will say this once.

Firstly, what’s been going on?

I have been struggling with my mental health for many years, primarily because I am neurodivergent. But 2023 was what I would consider one of the worst years of my life. I was nearly made homeless by an abusive family member, my grandmother had passed away, and I had failed my 3rd year of college due to what was thought to be symptoms of an undiagnosed mental disorder, which turned out be a post-traumatic response to stress.

I tried to power through it by distracting myself via this AU and in extension, this fandom. But I have since realized what I was doing to myself was not in any way healthy nor productive.

For the longest time my “worth” was tied to my work. Up until this point in my life, I was conditioned to believe from a young age that if was not successful, then I did not deserve to live. I felt ashamed of myself for not being able to fulfill what I thought were “simple” deadlines, creating grand projects to complete in just 2 weeks or less and when I didn’t hit those goals (much like with the completion of the EP) I nearly broke down.

But once I realized how much harm I was doing to myself, I felt like I had to take a step back and reassess myself before it had the chance to seep into my art and other fandom spaces I occupied.

I apologize for not giving any notices or updates whatsoever on this project. I never meant to abandon this AU. I love it way too much to let it go for good. There were other factors that kept me away here too, such as the brief influx unwanted sexual comments made by anonymous users in mid 2023, as well as my own internal struggle with my place within the Gorillaz fandom as someone who wants to share more nuanced content with mature themes in a space that has become increasingly filled with a much younger audience than intended.

But I’ve decided I want to come back to this project so I can tell the story I want to tell. Not just because of my love for the IP but simply because I want to finish. I want to finish it as a way to end a saga for myself.

Now that I have finally been given the green light to go forward into my senior year after repeating junior year, I feel that I’m finally in a healthy enough mindset to do so.

What will happen to this blog then?

I’ll be uploading questions as I get to them. But I must make note of this again as stated in the rules. Please stop sending me NSFW questions about the characters or myself. While this AU does deal with mature themes and does contain some suggestive elements, that does not give invitation for you to ask for that type of content about the characters, and especially from me. This is not directed at any specific user as most people were incredibly kind and respectful. But I beg you if you do like this project and want to submit a question or fanart, please don’t do this. It’s made me incredibly uncomfortable every time I receive them and it overall sours the experience of answering questions and continuing to work on this project. I would like for that boundary not to be crossed so please be respectful of that.

Secondly; as it stands, the EP and Thru With U animated music video are postponed.

Thru With U will most likely stay as a storyboarded piece as I unfortunately, do not have the luxury to animate a full three and half minute long piece by myself as that takes a lot of time and money that I do not currently have. And if I wanted to hire people to help me in animating it, I would want to give them proper compensation. Which again, I cannot currently give at this time.

The EP will probably come out eventually, but I would have to do some intense fine tuning in order to get sounding as best as it could be. That isn’t to say that I won’t be making anymore music/MVs for the Rejects later down the line, but I ask that all of you please be patient with me a more of those projects come out.

With that all being said, thank you all for your support. I’m incredibly proud of the community that’s been fostered from this AU and all of you who’ve sent me fanart, written kind messages, asked questions to the characters, and have written supportive tags onto each post, it means so much.

I can’t wait for you to see what this project has in store. Stay tuned!

Sincerely,

Bepis-Boii

[partyanimal167]

Helping Out- Grimmjow x Reader

I've been writing GrimmIchi fics for the girlies for years, but just randomly got the thought, I want a little piece of Grimmjow for myself. However, I couldn’t figure out a prompt and used a fanfic trope generator lol. So this is the result of it. I hope to write more and read more from the fandom. 

CW: Canon AU, fluff, black!fem!reader in mind, author knows nothing about medical field (be nice)

For once, Grimmjow might have to thank Kurosaki for something.

Grimmjow couldn’t tell you how he got in this position. But Urahara could! The former-Espada was nagging Ichigo for a fight since the young man kept rescheduling due to his busy medical school schedule. Grimmjow thought himself to be reformed enough (barely) and was patient. BUT! Everyone had their limits. Ichigo was listing excuses and caught up in how his class needed volunteers for an extensive role-play activity. Grimmjow couldn’t really give a damn about the trainings for healing weak human bodies, and flicked a paper projectile at the orange-haired head.

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Kurosaki asked. “No. You haven’t said anything related to rematch or fighting.” Grimmjow replied boredly. Ichigo held his scowl before a light bulb lit up in his head. He might have picked up his mentor’s tendency for plotting. Ichigo offered a deal. He agreed to fight Grimmjow if he agreed to throw on his gigai and show up to help. At first, Grimmjow outright refused. But...it had been awhile since he felt his blood thumping the way it did when going against that supernatural mutt...

Grimmjow yawned as he slumped in a chair while a woman addressed the somewhat eager group of students. He really had no idea what he was doing here. His initial plan was to make everyone as uncomfortable as possible, so he could be asked to leave. However, just as he was about to move his plan into motion, the woman had walked up to him and gently read the card around his neck.

You tried to keep your voice steady as you leaned slightly over and read the card on who was probably the most attractive gentleman in the world. “Here, we have a gentleman who has been waiting rather long in the emergency room while more urgent cases were dealt with. While this can be a frustrating situation for both you and the patient, remember to be reassuring and kind to them. Letting our negative emotions fog our mind can put many people at risks.” You looked into the prettiest blue eyes known to man. There’s no way that could be natural. “I appreciate you waiting sir. I know that you’re in a lot of pain. I’ll be glad to take care of you.” You gave him an affirming squeeze on his shoulder and smiled. You quickly pulled away and addressed the next steps in the process of the man’s imaginary wound.

What the actual fuck was that? Grimmjow was not used to being on the receiving end of genuine care and affection from a stranger. Those were emotions that were rarely showed in his world and even as he visited the World of the Living, he wouldn’t say it was one he received often. He continued to look at the woman who stood near him and spoke to the class. She was dressed in dark blue scrubs that look great on her smooth skin. Her hair was wrapped up in a bun and covered with a scarf. A loc or two peaked out. She radiated confidence as she spoke to the class and continued down the line of pretend patients, answered questions, and encouraged problem-solving from the students. There was definitely something intriguing about this human.

Ichigo jumped when the tall man suddenly appeared at his side at end of the class. “Shit! You need a bell.”

Grimmjow didn't even argue. "Who is that?"

“What?”

“Don’t fucking what me, Kurosaki. Who is that?” he hadn’t even looked at his rival and kept his gaze on you as you chatted with the volunteers and students.

Ichigo looked and tilted his head slightly. “Y/N-san? That’s the teachers' assistant in this department. I don’t know her too well, but she’s really smart. I’ve texted her a few times when I needed help. She-,”

"Will she talk to me if I bring her broken bodies?"

"What-,"

"Actually, fuck it. This gigai can't cause me that much pain. What if I break a bone?"

"What the hell, Grimmjow? She's not a doctor yet. I don't think anyone would want to deal with you if you're doing crazy shit like that."

A pause. “Give me her number.” he still was looking at you.”

“What-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Grimmjow, I can’t give you her number. It’s creepy to give out a woman’s numbers to strangers. You’re not even a student-,” Ichigo argued.

“Hey guys,” you greeted and smiled, “good answers, Ichigo. It’s nice to see how you experience already gives you a different perspective as your peers.” Grimmjow muttered under his breath as the man received your praise. “Who’s your friend?” 

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez,” he answered and held out his hand as he had seen humans do before. You shook it firmly. He grinned; there was something respectable about a good handshake. 

“Thank you so much for coming, Grimmjow. It’s nice when people from the community use their time to help students out.” you explained.

“I’m always happy to help.” Ichigo tried to not gawk at his lie. 

You nodded and giggled. “That’s so sweet. It can be hard to get people. There’s another one of these later today that I almost had to cancel. I’m still short a person, but I’ll make it work.” you went on a little.

“I can help.”

Ichigo was damn near losing his mind on the inside.

You were a bit surprised, “Oh, uh, I’d love that really, but it’s like three hours from now. I wouldn’t want to mess with your plans for today.” you scratched at your cheek.

Grimmjow snickered and shrugged. “I have no plans today. I can kill some time, find something to eat.”

That gave you an idea. “Well, at least let me buy you lunch then! I couldn’t imagine-,”

“Tch, like hell would I let a pretty woman buy me food. Don’t worry about it.”

You blushed at the compliment. “Huh well,” you reached into your pocket for a random business card you occasionally kept. You underlined a part of it, “Here’s my personal cell. I have to clean up and finish some paperwork, but we can find something close by to eat.”

Grimmjow chuckled as he took the card and looked at it. “It’s a date then.” You smiled then waved at the two men as you walked off.

“Heh, look Kurosaki. Seems I didn’t need you after all.”

The med student just dazed off in the direction that you were just at. “What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

~~~

We have a thing for Grimmjow in uniforms; he should have the same. I slipped in a personal detail with y/n having locs. I never see it (imagine that man gripping on them). I love Ichigo being shocked by a confident, committed Grimmjow. I feel like I can continue this one. I’m gonna go to sleep though. Requests are currently open. Thanks for reading!

[drmflm]

summary: one day, you decide to treat yourself to get your nails done. little do you know, you’re in for a huge upheaval in your life—filled with so much comfort, patience, and paper cranes. And it’s all because of that purple-eyed nail tech.

pairing: nail tech!seungkwan x gn!reader

wordcount: 2.0k

genre: fluff, barely-there angst

au: nail salon, origami, low fantasy

rating: pg-13

warnings: mentions of an ex, mentions of revenge (but it’s for comedic effect), brief frustration

note: i had so much fun writing this one! (it’s totally not inspired by my new nails hehe) i hope you enjoy! and pls comment your guesses for what you think seungkwan and the reader are! i’d love to see them

The bell jingled, signalling your arrival. You smelled antiseptic cleaner and chemicals as soon as you walked in, paying no mind to the few patrons getting their hair or nails done. You heard pieces of conversations as you walked by, and the sound of low chatter was near-constant background noise which added to the salon’s entire ambience. When you reached the front counter, the receptionist gave you a welcoming smile, before sliding his glasses up his nose and directing you to sit down.

You looked around aimlessly as you waited, eavesdropping on some conversations happening around you. After a while you got tired of doing that, so you started drumming your fingers as you watched the clock tick down.

“Y/n?” A voice called out, before a brunette strolled out from behind the counter. You nodded. “Welcome, my name’s Seungkwan. What are we doing today?”

“Gel extensions, and a little nail art,” you replied as you stood up.

He nodded before he directed you to take a seat at his station. He plopped down on the other side of the table, and while he was setting everything up, you looked at all the bottles neatly lined up behind him.

There was everything from hair serums to fake talons and clay polish. You weren’t sure where to look because there was just too much to look at.

“Before we get started, did you have any—sensitivities or preferences I should be aware of?” he asked, reaching for your hand.

You took a moment to think it over before nodding once, “you can just do regular gel nails, as long as there is no glitter, gold, metallics, or precious metals in it.”

You saw a flash of recognition in his eyes as he tried to figure out what you were before he smiled and assured you he would accommodate your preferences. After talking over your chosen colour and shape, he started working diligently as he prepped your nails for the first base coat.

“What made you decide to get your nails done today?” he asked casually, trying to fill the silence with small talk to make you more comfortable.

You just shrugged back, “nothing really. I just thought it’d be cool to have long nails, especially ones with a cool theme or something.”

He made an affirmative hum as he nodded his head, “yeah, I’ve seen some really cool designs in Hongdae. Some people go really crazy with them.”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” you laughed before refocusing on your hands, so they wouldn’t bump into anything, “I’ve seen people with nails as long as a walking cane—“

“Oh man, you wouldn’t even want to see the Guinness World Record for longest nails,” he said with a shiver. “I felt kinda grossed out when I first saw how long they were.”

You grimaced before he quickly changed the subject, chattering about work, and you in turn proceeded to tell him about your own work chronicles and love life.

“Dang, your ex sounds like a jerk,” he muttered as he filed your nails down. “I hope you left him after that.”

“I did, don’t worry,” you replied quickly. “I still feel sad, though. I wish I could’ve gotten revenge on him or something. I know it’s petty, but I just wish I could’ve gotten the last laugh.”

His bottom lip jutted out in concentration before he furrowed his brows and looked at you. “Why not? You can just go to his house and clog all his sinks with origami cranes.”

You blinked at him for a second, “are you serious? Paper cranes? I don’t even know how to fold a piece of paper without ripping it.”

“Maybe it’s time to learn,” he shrugged, before directing you to put your right hand into the dryer once more. “It’s said in Japanese legends that you will receive a wish if you fold a thousand paper cranes by the time you die.”

“What would I even do with all those cranes if I made them?” you muttered to yourself.

“Clog your ex’s sink with them,” Seungkwan replied with a mischievous smirk. “That’s what I did and it worked. All the affection I felt for them disappeared the moment they turned into a literal Godzilla and started smashing things.”

You nodded, “I’ll consider it.”

He smiled, “and if you ever need help folding them, just let me know and I’ll be happy to help.”

You couldn’t hear anything for a moment as you looked at his bright expression, duly nodding along to his words. As he painted little designs on your nails, time was nowhere to be found. The minutes flew by traitorously fast, and you were surprised when he eventually proclaimed them done.

When you checked them over, there was nothing you could find to extend your visit any longer. Your nails looked great—long, but not too long, in a shade that complimented your skin tone and made your hands look bejewelled in colour.

“They look perfect, thank you,” you said at last, before getting up and bowing politely.

“It was my pleasure,” he replied, returning your bow and directing you toward the front counter. “I hope to see you again soon, so you can enrapture me with the continuation of that story.”

He winked at that, before going back to his station and cleaning up. You grinned at that.

“These things are stupid!” you exclaimed, as you failed for the nth time at folding an actual paper crane. You were just about ready to chuck out all the special origami paper in your house out of frustration. No matter how many YouTube tutorials, origami manuals, or lessons you went through, you just couldn’t wrap your head around how to make the beak look like, well, a beak.

“This is stupid, why do I even bother?” you sighed, crumpling up another failed attempt. Why did you even bother? For a cute nail tech? Because you wanted to upset your ex?

Nothing really made sense to you—how could you let a nail tech’s charm and affinity for mischief sway you into doing something so immature and stupid? Maybe he was doing something magically—perhaps he was a goblin or a nine-tailed fox out to wreak havoc in your life.

But something told you he was being genuine. You weren’t sure what it was—maybe it was simply that intuition which came with living so long in a world as unpredictable as this.

You looked back at the crumpled papers messily thrown around your table. It pained you to do this—yet, you trekked on. You searched for another tutorial, following it down to a T, pausing often to make sure everything looked right.

Before you knew it, you had finished a few cranes, not noticing the passing of time. Your new nails made it so easy to fold—they were great for making the folds more defined and crisp.

It was actually quite therapeutic you realized, as you continued to fold and fold, no longer thinking about your frustrations or anything else that was bothering you—like your ex. It was a welcome change, since every time you looked around your apartment, you’d always see all the little things he left behind, and it reminded you of when he left you.

But today, your attention was completely focused on the cranes, which continued to populate your table. They sprawled all over your living room, covering up the tablecloth he gave you, spilling past the rug he bought you on your second anniversary, and overflowing into the flowerpots his mother donated to you when you first moved in…

It was like the space grew homier, as though the missing person who resided in your walls had finally come home. The little cranes greeted you when you came home after a long day, they chased away the loneliness that used to seep into the doorways, along the baseboards, and through the walls.

It was like you had a thousand tiny friends waiting for you, always waiting for you.

Over the next three weeks, your house was completely overflowing with hundreds, if not thousands, of tiny little cranes. You often folded them on your breaks, when you got home from work, or while watching videos in the morning. Soon, you lost count of how many you made because on every vacant surface, there were colourful little cranes waiting for you. You even gave a few to your friends and family thank you gifts. Your friends were surprised, to say the least—nobody ever expected you of all people to enjoy origami.

Safe to say, when you returned to the nail salon to get your nails filled, you had enough paper cranes to fill an entire apartment in the middle of Seoul to the brim. Literally—everywhere you stepped, you somehow managed to step on one of your tiny paper cranes. Every inch of your apartment was crawling with them.

“Ah Y/n, you’re back!” Seungkwan exclaimed once he came out from the back. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” you replied as he set up, “I have an update for you.”

He raised his brows before recognition lit up his eyes as you handed him a purple and green crane. “You made them! How was it?”

You smiled, looking at him warmly, “It really helped, actually. Even if I didn’t trash my ex’s apartment with them, folding them really helped me feel better.”

“I’m glad,” he said warmly, returning your smile.

He started working on your nails, removing the remnants of colour and filing them down to a more manageable length. You two continued to make small talk as he worked, and when you showed him the next design you were looking for, he complimented you on your taste—which made you blush profusely.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” you asked after a moment. He hummed to show he was listening as he painted. “You asked me last time why I got my nails done that day, and I just said that I liked the designs I saw.”

You hesitated for a second before continuing, “Actually, it wasn’t just about the design. I felt really low, and I just couldn’t help but internalize everything my ex said to me when we broke up. I just felt hollow and like I was leading a very meaningless life. He was a part of my hoard, and losing him felt like I lost one of my most priceless treasures. But I don’t know, I just wanted to say thank you?” you took a shaky breath before looking at him. He paused painting for a moment. “You really made me feel better about everything, you even gave me something new to add to my hoard. And I just think that being able to talk about it and fold those cranes really gave me a boost.”

He smiled, “You don’t have to thank me Y/n. I’m glad I could help, but I think a lot of your improvement and growth happened because of you. Please don’t discredit yourself because this is your own achievement. I hope you know that I am proud of you.”

You couldn’t control the tears that slipped out, and he just smiled softly, nodding at your whispered ‘thank you’ before you instinctively reached to wipe them away. But before you could completely pull away, he let go and offered you a tissue. “May I? I don’t wanna wreck your beautiful nails”

You nodded, as he gently reached over to wipe your tears, “You’re gonna be okay Y/n.”

You didn’t need to see the purple in his eyes to truly believe him because you trusted him more than anything, “I know.”

Every fibre of your being agreed—your heart, your brain and most importantly your nails, which (if you looked at them closely enough), showed the fluttering wings of a purple and green, origami crane.

© 2022 svt117 . all rights reserved.

[cavalierious-whim]

Socially Awkward, Chapter Five (Wriolette)

Neuvillette wakes up to a dick pic and sends his own.

'Socially Awkward'

Part 5 of 11

modern au

old dude cliche rom-com

Read here on AO3. You can also, follow me on Twitter and Blue Sky.

Note: Since I can't just give you explicit, real-life porn selfies, those have been pixelated. SORRY. LOL.

--

Neuvillette wakes up the next morning to a dick pic. 

He immediately shuts off his phone, pulling at his face. It happens from time to time, and it’s usually a quick matter of speedy deletion. Not everyone on Kameragram has polite intentions, and he is never in the mood to see someone’s genitals, unrequested. But this is…

Neuvillette unlocks his phone and takes a peek, his face bright red. That is The Duke—Wriothesley’s—cock, unmistakable as it rests against his palm. Hard and long. Precome beads at the tip. Wriothesley must be in bed, judging by the sheets he lounges in. 

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> morning, sweetheart. woke up thinking about you. can’t remember the last time i’ve been this hot and bothered

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> you get special treatment from now on

Neuvillette takes a moment to… look. Appreciate. Grinds his hand against his own half-hard cock that stirs at the sight. Last night they—they—

He is embarrassed again, shutting off the phone with a groan.

But then he pauses.

It would be the polite thing to reply, right? He and Navia have had not one, but several extensive conversations about this by now. Neuvillette worried about being left on read, about leaving another in a similar state, and besides, last night…

Well, they’ve certainly crossed a line, haven’t they? Neuvillette’s cock twitches, which, as Wriothesley had just said, is a rare occurrence. He doesn’t typically wake up aching in such a way, or to aesthetically pleasing captures of a man’s perfect cock.

Because it is. Perfect. Neuvillette wonders what it’d feel like—

He does not think about that, tossing the thought out before it has a chance to take root. He has work today, he has to get to the office. Then Neuvillette remembers that he’s been forced onto an impromptu vacation by his sweet, dastardly Miss Navia. 

Right. That. Neuvillette drags a hand down his face. Rest is more than palatable; he can’t remember the last time he truly took some time for himself, but the cold embarrassment of losing a bet floods his being.

He didn’t just lose it, either. Navia had booked his time off the moment they made the bargain. She’s a clever thing and sees more than most, and she must’ve seen Wriothesley’s intentions and understood Neuvillette’s need to be… pampered.

Last night, Wriothesley said he wanted to do that—pamper him. Neuvillette cannot believe that he fucked his hand to the sight of him, for Wriothesley, but he also can’t believe that Wriothesley wanted to clean him off, to tuck him into the sheets afterward, and be the—surprisingly—little spoon. And the big spoon.

“All the spoons, sweetheart,” he’d said. “I just want to hold you.”

Neuvillette cues up Kameragram again, resolve filling his chest. “It’s my day off,” he tells himself. “I’m allowed to enjoy this, to indulge. Wriothesley has given me a gift.”

The gift of a dick pic, yes, but it’s strangely charming all things considered. Neuvillette downloads the picture for… personal reasons. A reminder, he tells himself, of a momentous occasion. It’ll be okay to look at later. Just a peek, a—

Wriothesley would probably like it if he jerked off to it.

[LeviathanJudicator] >> What is the cost for this? 

A tease. Wriothesley will know it is, but anxiety tugs at Neuvillette’s being nonetheless as he sits in bed, waiting for an answer. He pulls at the comforter. Has… he made a mistake? Misread the moment? Perhaps Wriothesley won’t appreciate the joke. It’s been a long time since he last flirted with another person, but in his youth, he’d been told that he came off awkward, stiff, and even a little condescending. Unintentional, absolutely, but there is a stoicism that surrounds Neuvillette that cannot be reined in—

His phone chirps. 

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> no cost, baby. 

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> i already told you that you get special treatment

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> but tips appreciated if you’re feeling inclined. 

Oh. Oh, he’s…

Soft laughter is choked back. Neuvillette has the distinct thought that Navia would make fun of them both. It’s natural, this banter, but it’s particularly antiquated, even he can tell. Cute, though. Warmth spreads through Neuvillette’s chest.

His phone chirps again with a new message.

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> also by tip, i mean a picture of your cock, please.

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> in case that wasn’t clear

Neuvillette’s smile is wide and genuine, and it’s hard to pull himself from the bed to start his day.

#

“So, let me get this straight,” says Navia at lunch. “You didn’t chicken out—”

Neuvillette frowns at that. Had she thought he would? Probably. It’d be on brand, but Neuvillette would have, at least, told Wriothesley he wouldn’t make the call.

“—and he…” Navia trails off and makes a very crude gesture, mimicking the obvious. 

He sucks in a breath. Winces slightly. “That isn’t… out of bounds to discuss, is it?”

“For anyone else it’d be a bona fide sexual harassment case, but Neuvillette I am, first and foremost, your friend, not your assistant. And right now, you’re on vacation, and I’m here as your wing-woman, not on the clock.” She pauses. “Unless you want to pay me—”

“I do believe that you are using your paid time off as well,” he says dryly.

“Back to the point—you said he sent you something…” An eyebrow wiggle. “Salacious?”

Neuvillette clears his throat. “I may have woken up to a picture that most would find rather inappropriate. Considering the circumstances of last night, however, it should have been expected.”

“So he sent you a dick pic,” says Navia. She waits a too-long moment, pushing around her salad before letting her curiosity get the best of her. “Does he have a nice dick?”

“Miss Navia.”

“Sue a girl for being nosy.” Another pause. “Actually, don’t sue me. You’d win.”

Neuvillette cracks a grin at that. “To answer your question as succinctly as I can, yes.”

“And does he like yours?”

He chokes at that question, inhaling a sip of his water. “I—”

“Oh gods,” murmurs Navia, her eyes widening. “Oh gods. So you did…” She makes that licentious gesture again, mimicking masturbation, and Neuvillette doesn’t think his face has ever been so beet-red in his entire life. 

Navia whistles. “Well, Monsieur Neuvillette. Who knew that you had it in you? What’d you send back this morning?” 

Ah, therein lies the problem. Neuvillette rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly and Navia’s gaze narrows at him in response. 

“You… sent something back, right?”

“I did not leave him hanging, no. I—Miss Navia, what are you doing.”

“Let me see the damage.”

No. Absolutely not. And yet, he finds himself handing over his phone despite all the warning bells that he should not. Navia will help him. Navia will—

“Don’t give me that look. I’m not even interested.”

“I know that you aren’t—”

“I have to make sure you aren’t fucking this up, though.” Her eyebrows raise high to her hairline. “Oh,” she breathes. “Well, hot damn. I don’t even like dicks, but—”

“I would appreciate it if you would quit your teasing.”

Navia’s mouth curves into a grin and then softens. “Alright, alright. Besides, I don’t want to accidentally see your—”

“You will not.”

“So you didn’t send one back.”

“I flirted,” defends Neuvillette. But then his shoulders sag. “But no, I did not… reciprocate in such a licentious way.”

Navia hums softly and looks at him. “You know that you don’t have to, right? If it makes you uncomfortable, just tell him. I think that The Duke—”

“Wriothesley,” mutters Neuvillette in a soft correction. Wriothesley trusted him with his name, but Neuvillette knows Navia won’t tell another soul. Besides, it’s too impersonal to keep using such a moniker when they’ve… Neuvillette rubs at his face again.

Navia’s mouth falls open and rounds out into a small ‘o’. “Wriothesley,” she repeats. “Right. Okay. Anyway, I think that Wriothesley would not only understand, but he’d likely respect that boundary. He seems…” Navia sighs. “I don’t know, exactly, but there’s something about him that feels genuine.”

Neuvillette knows exactly what she means. He clears his throat. “It is not that I am against… returning the favor.”

“Ah, I forgot, Mister I’ve Sent Personalized Lewds. You haven’t though, you’ve just…” Navia’s face scrunches up as she scrolls through their messages. “Is this how old people flirt?”

“So now I’m old.”

“Those seven years between us are making a difference right now. Neuvillette you are comically…Well, not bad. But this is only working out because he’s equally terrible.”

“We’re similar in age, as it turns out.” Navia raises an eyebrow. “That isn’t the point. The point is—”

“That you didn’t send him a dick pic back. Do you want to?”

“I—Miss Navia, it’s—” Neuvillette grunts, sucking in a deep breath. “I paid a handsome amount for the stream last night, which I was happy to do, and then this morning I woke up to a picture, and a message saying that I now get special treatment.”

“And?”

“Does this make me a sugar daddy?”

Navia’s face goes through a multitude of expressions. It crumples, and then it cringes, and then she turns pink-faced as she holds in laughter. It erupts, eventually, spilling from Navia’s mouth as she begins to cackle. “I—” She chokes on her laughter next. Wipes the tears that well at the corners of her eyes, unable to breathe through them.

It is, decidedly, not funny, thinks Neuvillette. This is a matter of his personal life, and though he’s never had a problem with paying Wriothesley for his company, even if from afar previously, now that it’s taken a more personal tone, he worries about these things. 

“Honest question,” starts Navia. Neuvillette has an inkling it won’t be entirely honest, but allows her to continue. “Would that bother you?”

Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it? The answer is no. Neuvillette is paid well and rarely indulges, so there is a considerable surplus to his accounts. If Wriothesley wanted to be a kept man and needed help, Neuvillette would happily accommodate that. 

“It feels… a little transactional,” he admits. 

“And you don’t want it to be.”

No, he doesn’t. Not that Neuvillette has grand illusions of anything more, but he would like to indulge in… whatever this is, without fear of it being a matter of negotiation. Wriothesley, thankfully, doesn’t seem to view it that way. He’s already done things he never does for others, but anxiety slips down Neuvillette’s spine nonetheless.

Navia is quiet for a moment. “If you want my honest opinion, as an outsider looking in, I think that initially it was a little transactional—for the both of you, I might add. But looking at these messages now, and judging by what you said about last night… Neuvillette, he stayed on the phone with you until you fell asleep. You just talked, and even if this, today, is through an explicit lens, these messages are still tailored for you. They aren’t like some weird stock responses I’d think he sends to everyone.”

“So you think that this is genuine, then.” Because he does too. 

“I think that both of you are old and out of the game. You’re dipping your toes back in and figuring it out.” Navia slides his phone back across the table. “Sending him one back would be a good start. If you want to.”

Neuvillette wants to. He definitely wants to, he’s wanted to since he woke up that morning. 

“I know that look,” says Navia. 

“If you would find it amenable, Miss Navia—allow me to excuse myself for a bit—”

“Oh, I’m gone. Out of here. Actually, let’s never eat lunch at your place again.”

Neuvillette reaches out, catching her wrist. “Navia, before you leave, I wish to express my gratitude. These recent days… I know that this is outside of your pay grade.”

Navia’s hand falls over his, resting there gently. “I care for you,” she says simply. “And you deserve a personal life, even if it means I have to help you…” Navia makes that obscene, licentious gesture for a third time.

“Out,” he says, mostly with humor. 

Navia doesn’t need to be told twice.

#

So, Neuvillette is horny. 

Navia told him he’s not allowed to work, so he doesn’t. Technically. He sits at his desk. On his screen is… not work. Court transcripts, yes, but old ones because Neuvillette’s guilty pleasure is reading through court documents to calm his mind. 

His cock aches. He isn’t looking at his computer, he got distracted by that damned picture that Wriothesley sent him. Again. Neuvillette stares at it, tracing every pixel with his eyes. Wriothesley’s length is handsome against his palm, slick at the tip. Neuvillette wonders what it’d feel like on his tongue, how it’d taste. 

Would Wriothesley spend himself down his throat? Or would he rather hold off, and come inside? Neuvillette wants either, both, anything he’s given. 

“I should…”

Touch himself, surely. And so he does, undoing his trousers to free his own cock. Neuvillette is already half-hard. Red at the tip. Handsome, he thinks. 

He should send that picture. 

It takes finagling. It’s awkward to hold his cock and a phone in his other hand, let alone take a picture all at the same time. Neuvillette moans softly as he squeezes it, snapping a picture. Then a stroke from base to tip, thumb sweeping over the head and pulling away, a string of precome stretched between, clinging to the pad. Another picture is snapped. 

Neuvillette sends the second one.

[LeviathanJudicator] >> I am supposed to be resting on my vacation, but I find myself preoccupied. 

[LeviathanJudicator] >> I do think it would be better if I didn’t have to handle this myself, but alas.

#

“He sent me a picture of his dick.” Wriothesley says this, sprawled across the tiny table that occupies the break room at the gym. The fake wood is cool against his forehead. He groans, covertly pawing at his half-hard cock out of sight. 

Clorinde levels him with a look. “So I know I’ve said this before, but I’m going to say it again—Isn’t that the point?”

No. Yes. Fuck, Wriothesley wants it to be more than just that, though. He’s in deep, deeper than he originally thought. He hadn’t expected the video chat to work. He thought that—Neuvillette—would absolutely turn that down, but he didn’t, and then they jerked off together, and now Wriothesley is here, bemoaning his entire existence. 

“Surely he didn’t send one unprompted,” drawls Clorinde. She knows him too well, and she’s seen Neuvillette’s messages and general demeanor in the chat. Too polite. And his voice. 

Wriothesley dreamed about it, woke up painfully hard, and jerked off to the thought almost immediately. 

Clorinde hums when he doesn’t immediately answer. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“I just—Clorinde.”

Her brow furrows as she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “You were dodgy about yesterday. And this morning. You’ve been avoiding me.”

Only a little bit. A smidge. Wriothesley knows better than to think he can hide from Clorinde for long. “Look—”

“What happened?” Wriothesley gives her a flat stare and Clorinde returns it with a curl of her lip. “Something happened.”

“I did a private show for him. We jerked off. He has a nice dick.”

Clorinde is stunned speechless. Then she reaches out and flicks him on the forehead with her fingers. 

“Ow!” he hisses, batting her hand away. “Fuck off!”

She pulls away, leaning back in her chair. “Archons, Wriothesley, you’re acting like this might be the end of the world.”

Wriothesley groans, hiding his face in the crook of his arm. “It might as well be if I fuck it up.”

Clorinde sighs loudly, longly, and when Wriothesley peeks at her, she’s rubbing her face. “Wriothesley,” she says, “you’re the problem here.”

“I know that.” Why else would he be face down on the table? Wriothesley is a confident man. When stepping into a Pankration Ring, he loves the sharp adrenaline that runs through his veins. This, though—this is something entirely different, and it’s killing him. 

“What are you going to do?” Clorinde asks this nicely, at least. “You aren’t the type to…” She waves at him vaguely, as if it means something. “This guy—”

“Neuvillette,” he tells her. 

Clorinde blinks. “You’ve exchanged names?”

“Clorinde, don’t kill me.”

Her mouth purses but she stays her hand, at least. “Names,” she repeats. “That dick must be something.”

It is. Gods, it is. Neuvillette’s cock is long and perfectly shaped. Wriothesley is desperate to get his mouth around it. Looks like it has the perfect weight to rest in his hand. 

Neuvillette’s deep voice hasn’t been forgotten. “Inside,” he’d begged. “I’d want them inside, spreading me apart, opening me up—”

Wriothesley is fucking done for. 

“What’s the plan now that you’ve seen what’s underneath those fancy suits?”

Question of the century. Wriothesley’s phone is burning a hole in his pocket but he’s not about to pull it out and sneak a peek at that pretty cock. He has thoughts, though. Ideas and plans. Neuvillette sent him a picture back, which Wriothesley takes as permission to… well, not escalate but stay the course. 

“Buy some lingerie? I mean, I could…” He clears his throat. “He was very appreciative of my—”

“Fuck, I don’t need details, Wriothesley.” Clorinde winces as if in pain. 

“You asked,” he reminds her, finally sitting up. Wriothesley’s cock aches, twitching in his trousers. “I should respond right? Send another back?”

Clorinde stands abruptly from the table. “I’m not having this conversation—no, don’t give me that look. I’ll help you flirt, and I’ll endure your ramblings about how you’re old and decrepit, but I draw the line at talking about your dick.”

Wriothesley lets loose a puff of breath that ruffles his bangs. “You used to see my dick all the time.”

“And that’s exactly why I moved out.” She scoots the chair back from the table. “You seem to be not fucking it up entirely, so stop worrying. Giving him your name was stupid, though. Don’t do more shit like that. The rules, Wriothesley.”

Right, right, the rules. How can he forget with her constantly breathing a reminder down his neck. 

“One last question, Clorinde—red or black?”

Wriothesley should’ve expected the sweaty, stinky workout towel she lobs at his face. 

#

Wriothesley goes home and orders a scandalous set of lingerie, which will likely stay in its box at the back of his closet because he is bad at relationships, and there is no way this will work out.

But he can dream, and so it’ll serve as an item for an anniversary, maybe, and Neuvillette will—

Neuvillette will do nothing because jerking off together does not make a date.

Wriothesley pulls at his face. “Fuck, I’m pathetic.” Pathetically something. Gone? Useless? Utterly enamored. That’s what Sigewinne said earlier when he sent a right hook at a training dummy and missed it entirely because he was busy thinking about the subtle curve of Neuvillette’s dick instead.

He’d sent another, finally broke down while stripping to his underthings in the locker room. First, another selfie, his shirt pulled up to show off his abs. Then a hand cradling the bulge of his length. And then, after a careful check that no one else was around, a picture of his fingers wrapped around his cock mid-stroke.

Now he’s home and prepping for his weekly stream. His phone sits on the table. Wriothesley stares at it while setting up his ring light. “Behave,” he says. “Whatever he sends will be there later on.”

Wriothesley does behave. Until he’s about a half-hour into his stream and spots Neuvillette’s handle in his chat. Shit. The night before comes back to him in a rush and his cock stiffens. 

That’s—that’s not great. Lewds on camera? Yes. Shaking his ass a little, and things that are suggestive? Absolutely, but he’s never…he doesn’t want people to… The virgin killer sweater pushed his carefully placed boundaries. 

But that was for Neuvillette, so why can’t this be? Wriothesley gets the best, worst idea he’s ever had. A little teasing goes a long way. 

“You know,” he says, pausing in the book he’s currently reading aloud, “this reminds me of something—an older, handsome man who enjoys suits. I’m thinking of Kameragram Guy again.”

Wriothesley shifts slightly, knowing that his erection is on display. He drags his hand down the length of his thigh but otherwise ignores it. He’ll be good, he won’t scar Clorinde too much, who moderates the stream from her apartment. 

Besides, this is a show for one person and one person only, and Neuvillette doesn’t need something to be so overt to enjoy it. 

“There isn’t much to it,” says Wriothesley. “Just hot and bothered. So rarely am I captivated by another but, as it turns out, I’m lonelier than I thought. He appreciated the sweater, by the way.”

His forearm brushes his cock—and most wouldn’t notice. But Wriothesley feels it and chokes back a grunt. Later; he’ll message Neuvillette later, and tease him about the mess he’s made of Wriothesley. 

“I never thought I’d be done in by a fully clothed man. Do you think the silk of his suits is as soft and smooth as it looks? Would his skin be the same? Ah, sorry—the book. I got distracted.” Wriothesley winks at the camera, finishing with, “That’s been the gist of my week.”

It is hard to focus on the book after that. Wriothesley manages, but heat curls in his gut. His cock aches, and the wet patch in his boxer briefs is cold and tacky. He’ll handle it later. He’ll finally look at his phone and fuck his hand to the sight of Neuvillette’s cock. 

The stream ends far too late. Wriothesley groans the moment the feed cuts, and the camera goes dead. He grinds the heel of his hand over his dick and sweet relief floods through him. “Fuck,” he hisses. Even something so small feels good. It’d been torture, pure torture, sporting an erection almost the entire time. When it flagged, all it took was one thought of his late-night video call with Neuvillette, and his handsome cock for it to harden again, renewed.

Wriothesley has just relocated to his bed when his phone chirps. He unlocks the screen to find a notification from the Kameragram app, the preview of the words starting with, “How cruel of you—”  before cutting off. 

The picture is of Neuvillette’s erection, tenting the front of his very nice, very slick, definitely expensive trousers. Long. No doubt delicious. Wriothesley’s mouth waters at the sight, and kicks off his trousers quickly. 

[LeviathanJudicator] >> How cruel of you to tease me. 

[LeviathanJudicator] >> Wriothesley, I find myself wanting you most ardently.

Ardently. Wriothesley doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a word outside of a romance novel, but heat curls in his gut all the same. His cock is so hard it nearly hurts. He groans, his underwear feeling too tight, too hot, too—

He should send a picture. Wriothesley shimmies out of his underwear next, tossing them to the floor. He hisses at the cold air against his cock. His hand does little to quell the ache, even when he gives it a stroke.

The picture he manages to snap is good enough to send without a second glance. 

[TheDukeDownUnder] >> sweetheart, my stream was miserable.  you did this to me.

He waits to see what will happen, his hand loose around his cock. Another chirp marks a response, accompanied by another picture. 

[LeviathanJudicater] >> You are the one who sent me a picture that has kept me riled all day. Perhaps this is your own fault.

A tease. Wriothesley jerks his cock in one long, slick stroke, preparing for another response. But then he thinks about Neuvillette’s voice, that deep timbre against his ear. His breath would be hot against the shell of it. Would Neuvillette bite? Kiss it? Tease him more?

Wriothesley could know. It’s a thought that has eaten him alive from the moment he first saw his account. Most of Neuvillette’s pictures are taken outside. Wriothesley recognizes a lot of the scenery and buildings in the background. Fuck, he recognized the chairs at a café they both apparently frequent. 

Neuvillette is in Fontaine, a stone’s throw away.

“You’re a creep,” he tells himself. “Don’t be a fucking creep, Wriothesley.” But then he whines, his thumb hesitating over the message bar.

Wriothesley does, quite possibly the stupidest thing he’s ever fucking done, and that’s punching in a string of numbers and hitting send. His heart pounds. He thinks that he might be ill, his gut churning, flipping upside down. Yeah, he’s going to puke. His cock has flagged with anxiety, and he’s pretty sure this might be the beginnings of a panic attack. 

But then his ringer goes off. Wriothesley stares at his phone like it might burn his hand. Shit, he thinks. He didn’t think this far. He didn’t— “Shit,” he hisses, darting for the phone to answer it before the ringer runs out. 

“Hello?” he answers. 

“Wriothesley.” Neuvillette purrs his name. He purrs it, and Wriothesley’s dick flares back to life in response.

“I was dumb. I didn’t think. I—Neuvillette, you’re in Fontaine.” 

Oh, that’s infinitely worse. Wriothesley has really fucked this up. Neuvillette’s going to get scared off. He’s silent on the other end—too silent. 

But then: “Yes. I supposed you recognized some of the locations from my photos.” At least Neuvillette sounds amused, not horrified that Wriothesley might be a stalker. 

“I—”

“It’s alright, Wriothesley. I’m well aware that people will and can recognize the Opera Epiclese in the background of my pictures.”

Right. Gods, he’s dumb. Wriothesley pulls at his face. “I… hope that I didn’t overstep any boundaries. I just—well. I like you. I’ve been having fun, and I just thought that… we could keep having fun?”

“And surely your state of need isn’t a factor?”

Wriothesley’s mouth falls open. “That’s… a bold thing to say.”

“As bold as the things you said on stream? Wriothesley, I showed you just how it affected me.”

“Yeah. Yeah you did. Have you done anything about it?” Neuvillette sighs. Wriothesley’s head fills in the blanks, imagining what he might be doing. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Would you like me to?”

Wriothesley would like him to do a dozen things, things that he’d return in favor. But he settles for a simple, “Yes.” He tugs at his cock lazily, just enough to keep it hard and leaking. The edge is still there, though. Heat doesn’t just pool in his gut, it simmers, a slow-rolling boil that threatens to bubble over. “Sweetheart—” Neuvillette makes a half-choked, annoyed whine. “—tell me what you’re doing.”

“Touching myself, as you requested.”

Obviously. Wriothesley chuckles softly. “You’ve got to give me the details, baby. I want to touch myself to your voice, not just the thought of it.”

A soft groan. Neuvillette’s phone captures the rustle of his clothing and sheets. The way that he spits into his hand, and even the wet sound of his fingers as they curl around his cock to give it a stroke. 

“Neuvillette, do you have me on speakerphone?”

“I—”

“You do, don’t you? I can hear—” Schlick, schlick. That’s definitely the sound of Neuvillette’s hand jerking himself off. 

“I need both hands.”  Neuvillette shouldn’t be managing replies, he should be able to speak, too busy lost in his pleasure. 

Wriothesley digs his thumb into the slit of his own dick. “Why do you need both hands?”

“Wriothesley.”

“Tell me, please. I’m touching myself to the thought of you, Neuvillette. I want to hear it.”

“I had thought—” Neuvillette cuts himself off, and Wriothesley imagines that maybe he’s biting his bottom lip. Plump? Full and rose-bitten? Wriothesley would die to know, to kiss him, to get a taste of Neuvillette’s mouth. 

“What’d you think?”

“Your fingers,”  says Neuvillette. “I’m empty, Wriothesley. I don’t usually indulge in such a way, but—”

Wriothesley moans, the thought of opening Neuvillette up hot in his mind. He’s dreamed about that since he heard it, the fact that their tastes are so aligned, that Neuvillette wants to be filled. 

He’s seen his trim, slim waist, and the soft rounds of a very nice ass. Wriothesley wants to squeeze at it, to spread those cheeks and dip his fingers in, and watch his hole struggle around them. Is Neuvillette a size queen? Wriothesley’s gaze drops to his cock which is more than respectable, hoping that’s the case. But he’d do anything—anything that Neuvillette wants, even if it’s as something as simple as fucking his thighs. 

His fingers tighten around his cock. “Sweetheart, are you wearing those boxer briefs?” he asks. Those tight black ones that clung to Neuvillette’s plush thighs. He’ll fuck those too, his thighs. And mark them up. Trail fingers down their lengths as he nuzzles at Neuvillette’s cock with his face before swallowing it down. Wriothesley has never disliked sucking someone off, but he needs to get his mouth around Neuvillette, if only to hear the sounds he’d make. 

“No. I’m not wearing…” Neuvillette clears his throat. “I was only in trousers. I had thought it would offer… a nice picture. Leave nothing to the imagination. But now I’m—”

Wriothesley is a simple man. That thought alone has his cock swelling, close to release. No, no, that’s too quick. 

“Wearing nothing,” he breathes. “I can hear you stroking yourself. Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” A soft whimper chases that word, and Wriothesley thinks that he just might combust.

“Are you think about me?”

“Yes, Wriothesley—”

“Tell me more, baby. What do you want me to do for you?”

“For you to open me up. It’s been too long since I’ve last—I—” Neuvillette’s phone catches a soft grunt and the wet slide of his hand over his cock.

“Do you want to do that for me? Grab some lube, lay on your stomach, and fuck yourself on your fingers?”

“No.”  Neuvillette pants, moaning softly. His phone must be close to his face, but his hand must be so fucking slick. Wriothesley wishes he could see, wishes that he could be there and watch. “No,” Neuvillette repeats. “No, no, I’d rather—Wriothesley tell me what you’re doing, what you want.”

“You can’t turn this back on me—”

“Please. I’m close. I need more, just a little more.”

What a delicious sound. “So soon, baby?” As if Wriothesley isn’t one second from spilling all over himself, as if he wasn’t the moment he answered his phone, and heard Neuvillette’s voice.

Wriothesley is embarrassingly enamored. He’s pretty sure he could come to nothing but Neuvillette’s voice, and his own debauched thoughts. And it isn’t even pathetic; Wriothesley would want to try that, he’s so desperate for a crumb of attention from this man. 

“Easy when it’s you—you alone, mind you. You are the only one to make it so easy.”

Wriothesley doesn’t need to hear that. It’s going to make it worse when they have to inevitably part. But then he thinks maybe they won’t have to. Maybe, in some wild, weird turn of events, this could be a real thing. 

“Neuvillette,” he moans, his hand moving quicker, pulling over his cock to quell the heat raging through his gut. He’s nearly there. Just like Neuvillette said, a little bit more. “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck yourself on your fingers?”

Because that would be a divine sight, Neuvillette splayed out in the bed, fingers deep in his ass. Wriothesley doesn’t need to know what his face looks like, just the swell of his asscheeks, and the way that Neuvillette stretches himself open. 

Would he crook his fingers? Fuck himself fast, or slower, sweeter? Is he the sort to sweep across his prostate once and then wait? Or is he insistent with that touch, throwing himself into a quick orgasm? Would he fuck himself through that until he’s crying in overstimulation and—

“I’d rather wait for you to do it.”

Wriothesley’s brain short-circuits. He comes abruptly, spilling over his hand, his stomach, in long streaks of milky white. Neuvillette didn’t mean that. He didn’t just imply they should properly hook up, that they should meet. It’s dirty talk, surely. 

“Sweetheart, you can’t—”

“Did you come? I heard you…” A soft gasp. Neuvillette is loud on his side of the phone, from those breathy sighs to the slick sound of his hand as he fucks it. “I’m close. I’m going to—”

“Come one, baby. You can come for me. Think of that, of my fingers pressing deep. I’d open you up so well, take my time and watch you, listen to you.”

A sharp cry of Wriothesley’s name drops from Neuvillette’s mouth, and oh—oh—if Wriothesley hadn’t come already, that would have been the end of him. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, tilting close to his phone. He pretends it’s Neuvillette’s ear, that he’s giving this praise directly. “Be a good boy and come for me?”

“Yes. Yes, yes—oh, I’m—”

Wriothesley would pay money to see him come, to watch Neuvillette’s cock twitch as it soils his hand. The sight of it from their video call is seared into the folds of Wriothesley’s brain. The chemistry there has been permanently altered, and when he closes his eyes, there’s a high chance that it’s that moment replaying over and over.

Neuvillette’s hand on his cock, wet with lube. His thighs tensing, his back arching gently as he comes with a cry—Wriothesley is so, so ruined. He’s never coming back from this, isn’t sure that he wants to. 

And now he has Neuvillette’s number.

Their call is quiet, save their heavy breathing, and a soft, satisfied sound Neuvillette lets loose as he falls against his sheets. He breaks the silence, saying, “Would you prefer I text you? Or message you through your Kameragram account?”

“I… hadn’t thought that far, to be honest.” It’d been an ill-advised, last minute decision.

Neuvillette laughs gently. “I would prefer regular texting. It is less…”

“Impersonal?” finished Wriothesley when he trails off.

“Is it weird that I dislike that?”

“No, sweetheart.” Wriothesley’s reply is so genuine that it makes his heart ache for more. “Of course, not. It’s the same for me. We’ve… this is—”

“I had thought I might be foolish thinking it could be something more.”

Wriothesley stares at the ceiling. Counting the spots on the shitty popcorn ceiling is easier than unpacking that fucking can of worms. But Neuvillette wants this, whatever this is. 

He isn’t the first partner to do so. This is the point when Wriothesley nips it in the bud because he isn’t the type to date, but that feels wrong. This is different. 

Wriothesley swallows thickly. “Yeah. Thats… I never give out my phone number, not even with my occasional fucks.” A pause. “Sorry, that was a terrible way to word that—”

“I’m old, not stupid. Wriothesley, it is fine to have dalliances.”

“You said you haven’t for a long time.” Wriothesley is honored to be the exception.

“Yes, but that is what suits me. As I told you before, I am a picky man.”

“And so you picked me?” Wriothesley snorts. “I think that your taste might be questionable.”

“Perhaps that makes us, as my assistant says, ‘two peas in a pod’. I’m a man of questionable taste myself.”

Incredibly doubtful. “What now?” he asks.

Neuvillette is quiet for a long moment. And then, he says, “My favorite part of our video call last night was talking afterward. If I might make a request… I am tired. Would you stay on the line for a little longer?”

“Done,” replies Wriothesley immediately. “Have you cleaned up, sweetheart?”

“That name…”

Wriothesley stills. “Not to your taste?”

“No, that is not… I am just unused to it, but I have found that I do not mind.”

Score. Wriothesley thinks it suits him well. “Got it. But, like I said, you’ve got to clean yourself up.”

“I am, I am.”

Wriothesley hears him rustling around. He wishes that he could be the one to wipe him down, to take care of him.  “So, Café Lutece—what’s your favorite drink there?”

“Water. They are the only place that imports bottles from Cider Lake—”

“They’re famous for their coffee and you drink water?”

“It is good water, I assure you. Not my favorite, but one of my top five choices when it comes to quality. Besides, I am, admittedly, not a fan of coffee. It is too acidic, and the taste leaves something to be desired. No, I prefer the crisp clean…”

Wriothesley cannot believe that he’s listening to a monologue about different types of bottled waters, and their features; but Neuvillette’s voice is deep and soothing, and the sounds of him mucking about on the other end of the line is very… domestic. 

He didn’t know he wanted that. 

-

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