#can't make any edits without it though ... it feels so wrong

[immortalsins]

my vapoursynth keeps crashing whenever i try to encode 😭😭 it gets a few frames in before both windows just disappear. has anybody else had this problem and knows how to fix it?

[changeling-droneco]

Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled

First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but

This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.

Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.

YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD

I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)

First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?

This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???

Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.

The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR

This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management

A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though

Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.

I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.

Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative

Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!

Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!

In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL

Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!

My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"

I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders

Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.

I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY

Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful

Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company

Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK

We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.

I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.

Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN

First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"

Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?

If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE

Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes

"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."

First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.

"What is the goal of our content?

To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."

That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign

"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"

Gross

"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."

Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors

"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."

It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.

"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.

How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."

If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd

"It’s okay for the boys to be childish

If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"

More favoritism

"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"

Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.

"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."

I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | jjk ch29 FINAL

*.°* pairing : pre!military jk x waitress/ secret fuckbuddy reader

"For good service, and cute waitresses."

warnings: smut, alc consumption, fluff, profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idolljungkook, mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity

chap warnings: final chapter !! we made it </3, emotional af, final goodbyes, soft breakdowns, holding each other like time will stop, ugly crying (you and them), shower clinging, desperate sex (silent tears edition), pancakes no one eats, military uniforms, nari buys you 45 seconds of closure, you don’t let go until the door makes you, emotional damage, a note you won’t read yet , quiet quiet chapter full of crying, actually tbh the only thing thats loud is nari loll ( we love her ) <3

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

*.°* taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610 @bjoriis @kaitieskidmore97 @cuntessaiii @lovingkoalaface @bigsteppagangsterizzie @hangescn @angie-x3 @jjkluver7 @jungshaking @jjkluver7 @hoonsbrow @jjkkkk15 @crisle19 @roseda @oumy221 @cristinamajadera @hypophrenium ( check pinned tba )

masterlist, < prev | epilogue >

His alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m., the sound cutting through the silence of the room. at first, you stir in confusion, instinctively nuzzling deeper into Jungkook's body, ready to complain. ready to scold him for setting an alarm so damn early.

but then it all comes to you, and the realization slams into you like a gut punch.

Ur breath catches, and before you can stop it, a sob claws up your throat, except this time, you bite it back.

No. You refuse to cry again. Not now atleast.

You've already wasted too much of the time you have left with him crying, and you won't let yourself waste any more.

Jungkook still doesn't wake up, even though the alarm is blaring. He looks so peaceful like this, his face softened, lips slightly parted, eyelashes fluttering faintly in his sleep.

You could be selfish and could lay here a little longer, press yourself closer, pretend time isn't moving the way it is.

But you know you can't, you know what the right thing to do is. So you take a breath, steady yourself, and reach for him. Your fingers brush through his hair, gentle, and you whisper, "Jungkook, wake up."

He stirs when you call his name, eyebrows furrowing like he's already sensing something is wrong. For a second, you hesitate, genuinely considering not waking him, just a little longer. Just a few more minutes where it can all still be a dream.

But then his eyes open.

And immediately, they're sad. He doesn't even try to hide it. But still. he forces the smallest, softest smile for you before pulling you right back into his arms. He tucks you into him, wraps you up like he's trying to make sure you don't slip away, like if he holds tight enough, maybe time will stop.

He just cuddles you. For what feels like hours.

Your face is pressed into his bare chest, feeling the rise and fall of every shaky breath he takes, and you can't even say anything for a while. you just hold him back.

Until, eventually, you whisper against him, "It's time."

His arms tense, but he just gives a soft nod, wordless behind you, pressing his nose into your hair like he's memorizing every single part of you.

And neither of you moves, not yet. because you both know that once you do, it's really happening.

So you just hold each other.

For as long as you possibly can.

———

You both finally pull yourselves out of bed, and without saying much, you drift into the bathroom. The water is hot, but not scalding, just enough to lull you both into this fragile, quiet state where neither of you dares to speak. Jungkook scrubs your hair gently, presses soft kisses to your shoulders, and you trace lazy shapes into his back, knowing this is the last time you'll do this for a while.

The shower feels like it lasts forever and yet not long enough. and maybe you should've gotten dressed right after, but you don't. You don't even make it past the bathroom door before you both find yourselves tangled up again, back in bed, desperately clinging to each other, crying again because it's all too much.

He doesn’t say a word when he shifts above you, doesn’t ask, doesn’t tease. he just looks at you like he’s memorising the way you fall apart. Like he wants to remember the exact way your eyes flutter shut when he presses into you slowly, so slowly, like he’s scared to break you.

Your legs wrap around him before you even think to do it, pulling him closer, deeper, like you’re trying to keep him inside you. Like if you hold him like this, time will stop,

It doesn’t.

His forehead drops to yours, and you feel his breath stutter, his body trembling as he moves with a softness that feels more like pleading.

His hands are everywhere. your waist, your face, your chest. touchign like he’s desperate to memorize the feel of your skin under his palms. And you let him. You give him everything.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, anchoring him, grounding him, your mouth brushing his cheek, his jaw, his shoulder. like you’re trying to kiss every piece of him you’ll miss, even though itd be impossible to show that.

ur both crying. not loudly, not messily. just quiet tears slipping between breaths, between gasps, between the slow rise and fall of your bodies pressed together in, painful rhythm.

when you come, you do it silently, mouth parted against his shoulder, nails digging into his back like maybe that’ll make him stay.

He follows not long after, chest pressed flush to yours, teeth gritted, whispering your name like a prayer he can’t say out loud.

And when it’s over, when the air is still and your bodies are tangled in sweat and tears, he doesn’t pull away. He just holds you.

Like if he stays inside you long enough, maybe the time won’t come.

By the time you both come back to reality, it's already 6:30. The sun is barely peeking through the curtains, but it's unforgiving. it's really happening.

You slip out of bed, and Jungkook pulls on a pair of sweatpants alongside his shirt, rubbing at his tired eyes before quietly making his way to your kitchen. Like it's routine. Like it's any other morning.

He makes you pancakes, just like always, even stacking a few extra on a small plate off to the side. just in case you want to eat them later when you're alone. You don't have to ask. You know that's why he did it.

When you're halfway through eating, he surprises you by pulling his shirt over his head and holding it out to you. "Have this," he says softly.

You blink at him. "Really?"

He nods, like it's obvious. "Mhm."

You take it, pulling it into your arms while he puts on a sweatshirt, burying your face into the fabric. It smells like him, fresh and warm. Like him.

“Thank you."

his eyes soften completely before he crosses the small space between you, kissing you once, twice, three times, like he can't help himself.

He gathers up the few things he's left in your apartment, taking his time, scanning the space like he's burning it into memory. And then, when he's ready, he reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

"Let's go," he says quietly.

And you both drive to his apartment, together.

the whole entire car ride is silent.Jungkook's hand is in yours, warm and steady, but he doesn't say a word. Neither do you. There's nothing left to say that hasn't already been said.

You try to look out the window, try to focus on the blurred streets and streetlights slowly fading as the sun climbs higher, but it's impossible to ignore the way your chest feels tight, like you can't even take a full breath. Tears are already slipping down your cheeks, and you don't even bother wiping them away this time.

Jungkook knows you're crying. He knows without having to glance over. He just keeps driving, thumb rubbing soft, steady circles against the back of your hand like it's the only thing keeping you grounded. Maybe it is. Maybe it always has been.

Every so often, you steal glances at him, and every time you do, it makes it worse. He's biting the inside of his cheek, eyes focused on the road, but you can see it, the glassiness, the quiet shake in his exhale, the way he's working so hard to keep it together because if he breaks now, you both will.

The streets look so normal, the city sounds so normal, but nothing about this is normal. It's the last car ride you'll have with him for a while. Maybe longer.

And the worst part? He looks so much like home.

You tighten your grip on his hand without thinking. He tightens his back instantly Still silent. still steady.

but when the stoplight turns red, and he's forced to pause, he finally turns to you. His voice is rough, barely there. "Baby..."

You meet his eyes, and you don't realize how fast the tears come until you're gasping for air.

Jungkook leans over the center console and just presses his forehead to yours, eyes shut tight, hand still clutching yours like letting go would be the end of the world.

And maybe it is.

The light turns green.

You go down the familiar route. the streets you've traced a thousand times, the turns Jungkook always takes, the little corner store you two would pass on late nights when he insisted on snacks, the shortcut he figured out when you were running late once. It all passes by outside the window like some cruel, silent reminder.

You didn't even realize how familiar it had become to you until now.

And when you pull up, it's there. the spot outside his apartment building. The same one you stood in front of that first night when he walked you home, when you thought he was just some cocky stranger, not knowing you'd see this place so many more times after. Not knowing it would become his.

Yours.

He doesn't wait. His hand finds yours the second the car is parked, as if every second from here on out counts more than it ever did before. His grip is tighter now, like he's scared you might slip away first.

The steps up to his apartment feel different too. Slower. hes not rushing this time, not tugging you along like usual, and you're both too quiet, like the words you need are stuck. You trail behind slightly, your eyes trying to capture every detail, the cracks in the staircase, the peeling paint on the railing, the way the light flickers just before you reach his floor.

you never even noticed the light flickered.

When you finally step inside, it hits you so hard you nearly stumble. It's the same apartment you've been in a hundred times. Same scent, same soft clutter of Jungkook's things, same framed photos on the shelf you teased him about when you first saw them. But everything feels... fragile now.

You don't rush to the couch like you usually do. You don't toe off your shoes and make some dumb joke. You just stand there for a second, swallowing the lump in your throat as your eyes scan everything really see everything.

The way his shoes are messily tossed by the door. The cup on the counter that still has tea in it. The dent in the couch cushion where you two always sit, too close, knees always brushing.

You took all of it for granted.

And Jungkook watches you the whole time. Watches you take it all in like he knows exactly what you're doing. Like he's doing the same thing.

Then, quietly, so quietly you almost miss it, he says, "Come here."

And you do. Without question.

He pulls you deeper into the apartment, fingers weaving between yours, leading you like it's your first time all over again, except this time, you both know it might be your last for a while. he lets you soak it all in. Lets you look at every little thing you'd always overlooked.

Because maybe, deep down, he's doing it too.

You step into Jungkook's bedroom, and it hits you like a punch in the chest.

It was always boring. you always told him that. Teased him for having such a modern space. White walls, plain furniture, everything in its place. You'd always poke fun at him for it, curling into his side and whispering that it looked like a showroom more than a home.

But now... now you realize it wasn't boring at all.

Now, with most of it packed away, you notice how his it really was. The little things scattered around the edges that made it soft, the signs that he'd actually made it his own without you even noticing. the corner where he'd shoved spare guitar picks, the tiny crack in the floorboard near the window, the pile of manga on his nightstand that you always rolled your eyes at but secretly loved seeing there.

And then there's him.

He's standing in the middle of the room, staring down at his luggage like it's the most daunting thing in the world. His shoulders are trembling, eyes glassy, but he's trying so hard to hold it together. His hands fumble as he folds one of his shirts and sets it down too carefully, like if he does it right, none of this will actually happen.

You swallow the lump in your throat and cross the room, wordlessly picking up another shirt to help.

"I'll do it," he says, voice barely there, cracking slightly.

"Let me," you whisper back.

And he does. He lets you. so you fold beside him, both of you in silence except for the soft sniffs and shaky breaths. He only has one luggage and a big backpack. that's it. Months together, and yet everything he's taking with him fits into two bags. It makes your stomach twist.

While sorting through his things, you pull out a soft yellow hoodie you swear you've never seen before. Your brows furrow.

"Wait... this is nice," you mumble, holding it up. "Why have I never seen you wear this?"

His head dips, cheeks coloring even as his tears threaten to spill. He rubs at his nose and shrugs.

"I... I don't know. I saw it and thought of you. So I got it."

You choke out a small, watery laugh, eyes brimming. "You're such an idiot," you murmur affectionately, wiping at your face.

Then your eyes catch on something tucked away near the corner of the closet.

It's the little flower plushie.

The one you gave him ages ago when you joked about him needing something to hug on his bed when you weren't around. The one with the little stitched face, all crooked because you'd gotten it from one of those claw machines, and you weren't sure if it was cute or cursed. He still kept it.

You stare at it for a second too long.

Jungkook notices, swallowing hard, eyes glossing over as he murmurs, "I wasn't gonna leave it."

———

The room is empty now.

Jungkook stands there, staring at it like it's foreign, like it's never belonged to him.

And you... you're just sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the packed bags, swallowing down the ache in your throat that hasn't left since the moment you woke up.

He sees you like that. quiet, trembling, tears still falling even though you haven't spoken. and something in him just gives. He shoves the bags out into the hallway, kicks the door shut, and crosses the room without hesitation.

He takes your hand. "C'mere," he murmurs.

You don't resist as he pulls you back into the bed, into the covers you've both hidden under countless times. He tucks you against his chest, arms wrapped around you like he can shield you from time itself. Like maybe, if he just holds you tight enough, he won't have to go.

You cry harder into him, and he presses soft, slow kisses to the top of your head, the back of your hand, your temple. anywhere he can reach.

And then, quietly, like he needs you to hear it again to believe it himself, he whispers, "I promise I'll be back."

Your hand clutches the fabric of his shirt, desperate, like you could keep him here just by holding on tighter. But you nod, shaky and wet-eyed, whispering back, "I know."

And then, you pull back just slightly, eyes searching his. "I promise I'll be here."

And he knows. He knows you don't just mean when he visits, when the holidays come around. You mean when it's over. when he's finished completely, when he's free.

He just nods, blinking quickly to stop himself from crying again. He won't. Not yet.

So the two of you just sit there, huddled together in silence, staring at the now-empty room like it's something you'll never see again. And maybe you won't. Not like this. Not as it was.

After what feels like half an hour, you're the one to break the silence, voice small but steady, even if your eyes are still glassy. "Let... let me see your uniform."

He knows why you're asking. It's time. He's got an hour left.

Without a word, he stands, changing right in front of you, shameless like always. but there's a weight to it this time. He fixes his hair with trembling hands, smooths out the dark fabric, adjusts his collar, and tugs you by the hand into the living room where the morning light barely filters through.

You step closer ndrun your hands over the material carefully, like you're memorizing the feel of it. Your fingers trace his name tag slowly, eyes following every thread like it matters more than anything.

You adjust his collar for him, smoothing it down gently. The action feels so intimate, so final, it almost takes your breath away.

And Jungkook? That's when he breaks.

Soft sobs escape him, no matter how tightly he bites his lip. He crumples just a little, eyes squeezing shut as tears stream freely down his cheeks. You're right there, running your fingers through his hair, whispering, "Handsome. I knew you'd look good in it."

And he's just sobbing now, leaning into your touch like he's desperate for it, for you

Like he always will be.

When you walk to the kitchen together to kill time, Jungkook eats a light snack even though you can tell he doesn't want to. His uniform looks too perfect, too official, against the normalcy of hks apartment. the sunlight casting soft lines across his face as he takes slow bites of a banana.

You don't eat. You can't. You just sit there, watching him, holding the mug in your hands like it's the only thing grounding you.

And he knows. He knows you can't bring yourself to drink, but he also knows you're trying to memorize every second of this. Of him. Of this stupid breakfast.

When he finishes, he takes a shaky breath, wipes his mouth, and glances at you. "You wanna help me with the bags?"

You nod, trying to be useful, but the moment you grab the handle, you realize. it's too heavy.

"Shit," you mumble under your breath, trying to lift it anyway. Jungkook lets out the smallest laugh, walking over and easily lifting it for you.

"You tried," he teases gently, trying,desperately to lighten the mood. But neither of you can hold onto the humor for long.

You bring the rest of the bags to the door together, setting them down before sinking onto the couch. And that's where you stay.

Wrapped up in each other like you'll never get to do this again.

His arms are tight around you. One hand smoothing circles into your back, the other cradling the back of your head like you might fall apart if he lets go. And you probably will.

Your fingers grip at his uniform like it might just melt away if you don't.

Neither of you say much. There's nothing left to say. Just holding. Just breathing. Just feeling.

You trace the side of his face with your trembling fingers, memorizing it for the hundredth time this morning alone. He leans into it, eyes fluttering shut, letting out a shaky exhale against your palm.

And then—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The both of you stiffen. Jungkook turns his head just enough to glance at the clock. 7:50.

You feel your heart physically sink.

You both already knew the knock was coming, but knowing doesn't make hearing it any easier.

He pulls back slightly, enough to look at you fully. His lip quivers. His eyes beg you not to cry. but he's crying too.

And you swallow hard, feeling the sharp burn rise in your throat as reality hits harder than it has all morning.

It's time.

He swallows hard, wiping at his eyes, but it's no use he's already crying again.

so, Jungkook pushes himself to stand, glancing at the door like it might just disappear if he stares long enough. He takes a step, then another, but you don't move. You're frozen, watching him. He watches you right back.

And just before he reaches for the handle, he turns around.

Without a word, he pulls you into the tightest hug you've ever felt in your life. His arms wrap around you like you're the last thing keeping him upright.

He presses his lips to your forehead and holds them there, breathing you in, like he's trying to burn you into his memory.

"You'll be okay," he whispers, voice cracking, "I promise."

You shake your head against him, already sobbing, gripping the fabric of his uniform tight.

"No, no I—“

"Yes." He pulls back only enough to press his forehead to yours, his hands cupping your face, thumbs catching your tears. "You'll be okay. I need you to be okay."

He kisses you, soft and trembling, like he's scared he might break you, or himself. You taste his tears.

"I promise you," he breathes against your lips, "always."

"I love you so much," you whisper, but it comes out as a sob.

His face crumples. "I love you so much too. So much."

And when he pulls away, you don't let him go.

Your hand stays wrapped around his arm, desperate, as if you're silently begging him not to open the door. His eyes soften, and you see it. that split second where he almost doesn't.

Instead, Jungkook lets out a shaky breath and decides. he turns fully back to you and just... hugs you again. Tight, tighter than before, swaying you gently side to side like it'll somehow make this feel less brutal.

You just cry into each other.

And when he finally lets go. only because he has to, he opens the door. Standing there is his manager and one of the other staff. They both immediately notice the state of you both, but neither says anything.

"You ready?" his manager asks, voice quiet.

Jungkook blinks through the tears. Nods. Swallows.

"Are you sure she can't come?" he asks, voice breaking again as he glances back at you.

The manager looks guilty. "I'm sorry."

He just nods again. Quiet. Accepting.

The staff member steps in and helps him with his backpack. Jungkook shrugs it on without a word, but his eyes never leave you.

And then he's standing in front of you again.

He kisses you. He hugs you.

He sways you side to side like he always does when he doesn't want to say goodbye. "You're strong baby, you'll be okay," he tells you, trying to convince himself too.

You sniffle, wiping your eyes, glaring at him softly through the tears. "I'll miss you so much."

"I love you," you add, voice trembling.

"I love you too." He smooths his thumb over your cheek.

"Always text me, okay? Whatever you can. Whenever you can."

He nods instantly. "I promise."

You can barely see him anymore through the tears, but you still reach up and gently fix his collar again, like you've done it a hundred times before.

He tries to smile for you, even through the tears.

And when he steps back this time, you know.

This is it.

He'll be back. He promised.

But this part is nearly over.

You don't let go of his hand, not even when he tries to gently step back, not even when the manager quietly clears his throat behind him.

Jungkook laces his fingers tighter with yours, and you walk him down his hallway, side by side, neither of you saying anything.

The silence says enough. Your tears fall freely now, unchecked. His do too, slipping down his flushed cheeks as he grips your hand like a lifeline.

When you reach the elevator, you both hesitate.

The doors slide open, and neither of you moves. It's like stepping inside will make it too real.

But he steps in, just barely, and you stay rooted to the ground, still holding his hand.

He gives you a tiny, devastated smile. "You'll be okay."

You shake your head, crying harder. "I don't want to be okay."

He chokes on a sob, pulling you into another hug right there in the elevator doorway.

Then, "Wait!"

Both your heads snap around.

Nari comes flying down the hallway, barefoot, hair a mess, in her pajamas, looking like she just sprinted from bed.

"I'm fucking late!" she pants, looking horrified, but then sees your face and freezes. "Oh. Oh, baby—"

She rushes over, immediately wiping at your tears like she's your mom instead of your best friend.

"You're leaving?" she asks Jungkook, turning to him.

Jungkook gives a wet laugh, eyes red. "Yeah."

Nari rolls her eyes through her own tears. "I knew you two would be like this. Should've bet money on it."

Jungkook sniffles, managing a soft chuckle. "Nari... thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." She waves him off, biting her lip. "Honestly, you annoyed me half the time, but you're alright." She jokes, and then she hugs him, warm and friendly.

You're barely breathing, watching them, grateful without words. She just bought you time.

The manager looks like he might keel over in the corner, rubbing his temples.

Nari pulls back. "Okay, okay. I'm stepping aside. Go do the whole tragic movie thing." She gives you both space.

And just like that, it's the final goodbye.

Jungkook turns to you fully. His eyes are glassy, lips trembling, but he's smiling, soft and real.

He steps back into your arms, holding you so tightly you swear he might never let go.

"You'll be okay," he whispers again. "I promise you’ll be okay."

You barely manage to nod. "I'll miss you so much. I love you."

"I love you." His voice shakes.

You feel his hand slip into the pocket of your hoodie. You're too overwhelmed to register it fully.

Jungkook kisses you one last time, slow, aching, like a promise sealed and he pulls back, his thumb wipes away the new tears that instantly replacing the old ones.

"You've got this," he says softly, before swaying you side to side like he always does, desperate to keep you close just a second longer.

You cling to him. "Always text me."

"Always," he whispers, resting his forehead to yours. "I swear."

Another deep breath. He pulls back. You don't let go until you absolutely have to.

He steps into the elevator, eyes never leaving you.

And when the doors finally slide shut, it feels like your heart leaves with him.

And for a second, you just stand there, frozen, staring at your own reflection in the metal, like maybe if you look long enough, it’ll open again. Like maybe this isn’t really happening.

Then it hits you.

All of it.

You crumble before you make it two steps, knees hitting the floor in his hallway, sobs tearing out of you before you can stop them. Ugly, broken sounds that echo off the walls.

Nari’s there in seconds, barefoot and frantic, trying to pull you into her arms, whispering something like, “I know, I know, baby, I know—”

But you can’t hear her.

Everything’s muffled. Blurred. Drenched in the sound of your own heartbreak. You’re shaking so hard it feels like your body doesn’t belong to you anymore.

You don’t know how long you stay there, curled into yourself like maybe you can disappear.

You don’t know what Nari’s saying.

You don’t know how the door gets closed again or when the hallway goes quiet.

And you haven't even noticed yet, a note is still tucked safely in your pocket.

A/N: babies… 😭 thank you so so so so much for reading the first-ever series i actually started (apart from magic, which is… a disaster. we don’t talk about her). but anyways. i finished her. i actually finished her. can you believe it???thank you for being patient with me when i disappeared for weeks at a time like a deadbeat fic parent. life got busy, my brain was loud, but you guys stuck around and i’m so, so grateful for that. 🫂

how do we feel about the ending?? be honest. i was going insane finishing this because i couldn’t tell if it was hitting or not, but i figured it’d be worse to keep you waiting any longer. so here she is. raw and fragile and crybaby-coded. i hope she hurts in all the right ways, for some reason shes not as sad as i expected?? idk but maybe its cs ive read over this like 300 times lollll, also, this is the end… but not the end end there will be an epilogue. when he comes back. which is, um. next week.

jungkoook is coming back in a week. i repeat: ONE. WEEK. i am unwell.

i love you all so much. thank you again for everything — your comments, your support, your love for this messy little forbidden romance. i hope it was worth it </3

cry with me in the replies pls

— ila <3

[just-some-random-blogger]

Can i request some cregan, like reader having her first time with him?

A/N: i know you said *HAVING her first time, but im not in a smut mood. I AM IN A CREGAN MOOD THO. this has been holed up here for a while now, so anon, if ur reading this, sorry no smut but I hope you like fluff. edit: the fic died and now im sad so the fic is sad pls i hate hormones

Frosty Lips

As a girl, you never imagined you would one day be wed to the to the Warden of the North. As a grown woman, you can't imagine ever being in the arms of another.

Cregan Stark x Reader | 500> | cw: fem!reader, fluff, smitten!Cregan, domestic life, typos, etc.

Tagging: @aneurins-barnard because her gif is LICHRALY the reason why I wanna write at all EVERYONE SAY thank you eli. also @arabellasleopardcoat HI!!!! LOOK ITS CREGAN!

Cregan rubs your bare shoulder and kisses the spot that connects to your collar. He rubs your arm, adjusting the blanket on you.

It was late, and he knew it. From the way the sun shone from out the window, he figured it was possibly noonday already.

He slowly pulls away from you and for the fourth time, you pull him back into your chest, groaning in disapproval.

He sighs.

You rub your cool hands down his bare back and he rubs his nose into your neck as a response, mumbling, "we must wake, my heart."

He feels your head shake. A sighs yet again, though devoid of any actual frustration; his eyes were brimming with endearment and amusement as he watches you pretend to sleep.

He speaks your name, meaning to sound vaguely threatening.

You frown and crawl atop him, "no."

"Gods be good," he mutters, clenching his teeth as you kiss his jaw. It was a losing battle, there was no way he was going to push you off, not when you were so warm and wanting.

"Must we rouse?" you mutter, "aren't I owed more time with my lord?"

Cregan's breath hitches.

You snake your arms around him, "we've just had our wedding night."

"Aye," he strokes your hair, "and I want for nothing more than to stay in your arms."

"..."

"..."

"... but?"

Cregan grunts, "but..." he rubs your back, "Winterfell will not stand without its ward."

You lift your head up.

The pouty frown you give him pokes a hole into his heart. It was not just a showy frown to get him to stay a little longer, you looked troubled. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, "what's wrong?"

Taken off-guard by his question, you mask your expression with a pantomime of your original pout, "the ward of Winterfell does not warm my bed..." you nuzzle your face into his neck, "my husband does."

Cregan sighs as he clutches your head. He murmurs against a kiss on your hairline, "if you are worried the ward of Winterfell would forget about his wife, you are sorely mistaken."

A beat passes.

He rubs your shoulder as you draw aimless shapes on his skin.

"And what if the Lady of Winterfell does not do her duties well?"

He shifts to see your face.

"What if she makes a mess of everything she wishes to help with?"

Your glassy eyes make his brows furrow. He takes your hand and kisses it, "then I would be glad to have a lady who wishes to help me at all."

Your lip wobbles.

"And I would stop gifting her sweeties because she no longer deserve them."

You snort and slap his chest.

He smiles, glad the jest wipes the rueful look upon your face. He kisses the top of your head, "come, my bride. Let us make a mess of things together."

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[nanasrkives]

navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! the mha EP!

── .✦ "STUBBORN HEART" ─ Bakugo Katsuki

for some reason i was beefing with mha (dont ask me even i dk why) but we made up sooo here is a lil bakugo content (i missed u boom boom boy) content : one shot. fluff. bakugo being in denial. 658 words

Katsuki Bakugo prided himself on his unshakeable concentration and determination. Feelings were a distraction, a disturbance that had no place in his life while he strived to be the best hero. Yet lately, he was thinking about you for no reason at all.

It began innocently enough—a little joint training here, a mission there. But soon enough, he grew aware of the faint catch in his breath when you laughed, the involuntary tightening of his fists when others stood too close. He brushed these aside as minor irritations, attributing them to anything but the feelings growing that he would not admit.

"Dammit," he growled under his breath, closing his locker perhaps a bit harder than strictly necessary. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

His internal struggle did not go unnoticed. Kirishima, ever the perceptive friend, lifted an eyebrow as he approached. "Yo, Bakugo. You alright? You've been kinda tense lately."

"Mind your own business, Shitty Hair," Bakugo responded, the ends of his ears tinting a light pink. "I'm fine."

But our poor boy wasn't okay. Each encounter with you made him increasingly flustered, increasingly disturbed. He caught himself analyzing each word you'd say, each look you'd give him. Were you being nice? Or was something else going on? Not knowing ate at him, feeding his annoyance.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, he spotted you giggling with Kaminari. A sharp, unwelcome pang of jealousy stabbed him in the chest. His vision narrowed, and the next thing he knew, he was stalking over, his usual scowl darker than normal.

"Hey, Dunce Face," he bellowed, causing you and Kaminari to step back. "Can't you just leave people alone?"

Kaminari blinked, looking confused. "Uh, we were just talking, man."

"Go talk somewhere else," Bakugo growled, his eyes darting towards you briefly before he looked away. "Some of us need to focus."

You observed him, your eyes a blend of amusement and interest. "Alright, Bakugo?"

"I'm fine," he snarled, the lie evident to everyone but him. "Just. get out of my way."

As he stalked away, his mind reeled. Why should he care who you talked to? Why should it infuriate him so? The questions circled and circled, offering no solace.

He couldn't sleep that night. Whenever he tried to close his eyes, your face would pop up, and with it, that infuriating warm sensation in his chest. He snarled, pressing his face into his pillow. "This is stupid," he muttered. "I'm not some love-struck dumbass."

Yet denial could take him only so far. The more he struggled against it, the more powerful the feelings became, until finally he could no longer hold it in.

Backing you into the hallway after class, he took a deep breath, his normal confidence trembling. "Listen," he started, his voice rough. "I don't know how to say this without making myself sound like a damn idiot. I like you. Not in a friendly way. And it's driving me insane."

You blinked, taking in his words. "Bakugo."

"I'm no good at this kind of thing," he went on, staring immutably at the floor. "But I had to tell you. Do what you like with that information."

There was a pause between you, then you edged closer, reaching up to tip his chin up so his eyes met yours. "You're an idiot," you whispered, a smile pulling on your lips. "But I like you too." Relief flooded him, though he would never acknowledge it. "Good," he muttered, a small, real smile cracking his habitual scowl. "About time."

 In that instant, Bakugo Katsuki realized that maybe, just maybe, letting someone into his stubborn heart wasn't as terrifying as he thought.

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN) @cherrysurf

[kawhh]

corruption kink quinn again. specifically with him convincing you condoms are bad for you. you’re so innocent, he knows you don’t know any better. him slipping inside of you bare, telling you condoms can hurt him and you. sliding fingers into you as you sleep before you’ve gotten him inside you, he needs to stretch you. he can’t have his girl hurting because of him. he’s doing you a favor.

Corruption Kink Quinnifer! ✰ .ᐟ Warnings: somnophilia, the word bare 10 million times.

Every single thought that occupies this man's head would be about fucking you bare.

He doesn't want to waste time with condoms. They get in the way. You'll be his forever anyway. They'll limit how much he can fuck you, you'll be too scared to fuck without one if you realise the potential consequences.

He just wants to be inside you. Wants to pound into you until you scream. Wants to be balls deep in you, feeling your cunt clench around him as you cum, keeping you as close as possible as he fills you with part of himself.

What's the problem with that? What's wrong with wanting to see his cum leak out of you? Wanting to fuck it back in until he cums again?

Condoms will stop all of that, he's not fucking having it.

You ask him about them? Maybe you've heard it from a friend? Social media? He's editing studies on them. Changing the contents. Screenshotting the edited versions and sending them to you. They're dangerous. They'll hurt you. They'll hurt him. It'll be too tight around him and might make him have to go to hospital. You wouldn't want that would you? Him in pain?

He can't fuck you bare yet though. He doesn't want to hurt you. No, no. He needs this to go right. If it goes right, he can fuck you bare whenever. It's worth the wait, the effort.

When he isn't on a roadie, he's warming you up every night. Getting your cute little cunt ready, while getting a taste of how the real thing will feel.

Waiting until you're in a deep sleep - he's got your typical REM cycles down. A few little circles on your clit and he's ready for the night. Slowly stretching you out with his finger - he's still stuck using one - feeling your walls clench around him in your sleep. Imagining how it'll feel when you're squeezing his dick like that.

Would you beg for it? Would you cry? Would you plead for him to cum inside?

He'll make it as easy for you as he can. He'll stretch you out for months if he needs to. Anything that gets him closer to flooding you.

[cheesus-doodles]

Left Behind in Unsolicited Matrimony

Yandere Kalim

Masterlist | Beyond the Glitter of Gold

‎

still can't think of a good title :/ been stuck on this fic for so long it's not even funny ;-; not edited cause I'm just happy to get it out finally!! (p.s. i play en server with no spoilers so no spoilers please)

“W-wait,” Kalim stammered out, the tanned boy looking uncharacteristically even as the celebrations around him continued on without missing a beat. Heartbeat hammering away in his ears, garnet red eyes that would fit right in amidst the priceless stones of the Asim family’s collection were wide as they glanced between his parents. “What do you mean?”

”We have to celebrate your engagement, of course,” his father chuckled, gesturing at the full-on festival playing out in front of him, the gold and priceless jewels twinkling like stars down from the ceiling of the grand hall. “How could we not? It is a most joyous occasion.”

His heart skipped countless beats as it set a vicious beat in his chest, though his mind seemed to barely notice, thoughts pounding away against his skull like a jackhammer. The world around him felt like it was swirling along with the dancing guests even as he stood in place, his feet rooted in place as if an old tree from a bygone era. And his face looked the part as well, drained of all blood, every breath feeling more like a fight against heaving up everything he had eaten in the past twelve hours. 

‎

Engagement. An engagement. Of all things to deal with- Mind whirling, the tanned boy would have succumbed to his jelly legs if his mother hadn’t been holding on to him. What should he do now?

”Oh don’t worry about anything dear, we’ll have everything settled,” his mother reassured as she lightly squeezed his hand, no doubt mistaking the growing look of horror on his face for nervousness. “You don’t have to do anything at all.”

That was the furthest thing from his concern, was what he wanted to scream at the thought of his lungs, though Kalim couldn’t exactly voice that sentiment, the ornate gold jewelry that decorated his tanned skin jingling slightly as his arms fell listlessly to his side. What had gone wrong for him to be in this situation? “But why?” The Scarabia housewarden asked shakily. “I thought-” 

“Well, we set it all up for you as a surprise! Your birthday is so soon, we couldn’t help it,” the older lady continued, grinning from ear to ear as she nudged her son playfully, her eyes slightly glassy as she harkened back to those good ol’ days. “And we found the perfect girl for you. You remember her, don’t you Kalim? That girl you tailed around so much when the two of you were kids.”

Yet despite his parents’ hearty laughs as they exchanged memories and stories about the silly, happy child from his past, the glitter and glamor and the cheers that surrounded him, no matter how he tried with his usual brightside glasses, Kalim couldn’t make himself see the upside of this situation he found himself in. Turning it upside down, inside out, all he could see was that should he simply agree, there would be but a single path for him to follow, a path he had no will to see through, and no way out. 

Because there was no future the white-haired boy wanted to be a part of that didn’t include you.

To his right, a nameless servant scrambling forward caught Kalim’s eye, the man respectfully pouring out another glass of wine for the Asim matriarch before disappearing back into the shadows. It wasn’t anything momentous by any stretch of the imagination - in fact, it would have happened dozens of times a day, but that was all it took to drag the thought of you straight to the front of his brain again: the silent labor of the Asim staff would have been another part of his life he wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for you pointing it out. You were everywhere, everything.

And then of course, the question of you. What about you?

‎

Whirling around, eyes that could have been mistaken for shimmering rubies under the candlelight of the chandeliers overhead desperately searched the joyous, dancing crowds for you. And he found you quickly enough in a quiet corner of the hall, one gentle hand wrapped delicately around a glass of some kind, your silhouette hidden partially behind a set of drapes. Yes, there would be where he expected you to be, given you had always preferred the calm and silence as opposed to this chaotic party vibe not too dissimilar to Scarabia’s on a regular day.

This was supposed to have been nothing more than a prime opportunity to show you the wonders and splendors of his homeland, the Land of the Scalding Sands. Sure, you weren’t particularly favorable towards the riches and glamor that were the cornerstone of his life, refusing to accept even a single bangle that he hardly knew existed without being all but begged and whined into giving in; but the white-haired housewarden wanted you to see what laid beyond just the Asim family and their vast wealth. The depth of history of the land and people that grew side by side, the vibrant colors of its culture and heritage; there was so much to be seen and experienced. He fell in love with it, its past, present and future, over and over again, so maybe you would too.

All daydreams of the could-be were however shattered in an instant, when from a slight shift of your figure revealed your companion to be none other than Leona Kingscholar, that braided mane of dark brown hair and lion ears unmistaken. 

Kalim’s gut dropped. Wait. When was he invited? More importantly, why were you talking to him?

‎

All logic pointed to Leona having been invited by the Asim family, being the second prince of the Sunset Savannah and Kalim’s upperclassman. But watching you chattering along with the tanned beastman without missing a beat like old friends, it didn’t feel right for him to just be standing here. And you only confirmed his worst fears when you chuckled at something the Savanaclaw housewarden said, to which the other laughed along, his hair swaying elegantly with his moment with an ease Kalim would never hope to be able to achieve. Was that a blush on your cheeks?! 

The niggling doubt started to emerge, a trickle at first, taunting voices emerging like a hidden spring seeping out of freshly defrosted ground. And then it began to pour out as the floodgates opened, an uncontrollable torrent. You had no interest in Kalim, they whispered, no matter what he did. You would never be interested in him, not while he still had so many competitors for your eye. 

Jealousy that Kalim never knew he possessed snared his heart, ugly, ugly feelings that he never wanted to acknowledge he even had in him making themselves known.

All he could see was you and Leona, the rest of the world blurred into a background blob, the ringing in his ears only growing louder with every passing second as your infuriating conversation continued blissfully unaware of his stares.

If only. If only Leona wasn’t there. There was nothing more that Kalim wanted in the moment but to hurt the Sunset Savannah prince, wanted to get rid of him, to make sure he leaves and never be able to speak with you again; the feeling churned deep in his chest, a rage ignited that he couldn’t seem to control, his fists both balled up tight to his side. He could make it happen, couldn’t he? The voices taunted, the light breeze as if they were brushing up against his ear. Even if he wasn’t royalty and Leona was, Kalim could wield the might of his family and make it happen.

‎

You seemed to have felt his stare on you, the Scarabia housewarden subtly noted, as you shifted, looking around for the gaze on you.

It took but a blink as your eyes met his for Kalim to shake back to reality, watching your face visibly brighten as you started to make your way towards him, threading your way through the crowd as you eagerly waved in his direction. His world instantly lightened along with your expression, his once-heavy heart even starting to flutter slightly, though that warm feeling didn’t last long, his parents still musing the good ol’ times to the side catching the corner of his eyes.

Actually, come to think of it, this really was one of those times he rather you weren’t here.

It was too late for that now, and the grin he forced himself to wear felt unusually uncomfortable.

”Here you are, Kalim! We’ve been looking all over for you,” your footsteps stuttered to a pause, and you leaned in slightly, the concern washing over your expression. “You look pale! Are you alright?”

“Oh! You must be the classmates we’ve heard so much about!” The Asim matriarch stepped forward, grabbing your hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake. “Welcome to the Scalding Sands! Kalim’s just a bit too nervous right now since we’ll be announcing his engagement."

But you didn’t seem to notice the horror once more setting in on the young Asim’s face as that wretched word fell out of his mother’s mouth again, your hand instead flying up to cover your mouth in surprise. “Oh! Congratulations Kalim!” His gaze instantly snapped to you. No. It wasn’t true. You weren’t supposed to know that. He didn’t want to be engaged. 

What the white-haired boy wanted was to deny, deny, deny everything and anything to you, but his mouth was dry and his voice didn’t seem to want to work. And so all he could do was watch.

“Yes, thank you,” his father graciously accepted, shaking your hand once his mother finally let go. “We’re so very excited.”

“I’m sure you have a lot to discuss, so I will take my leave,” you politely nodded, excusing yourself from the situation. 

Leona wasn’t far behind, that infuriating smirk decorating his face as he too said his congratulations before sauntering off after you, and Kalim’s garnet eyes trailing your pair up till the two of you disappeared from the hall to parts unknown.

‎

He was the one that had asked to bring friends over, and had been caught with his metaphorical pants down. How was he supposed to get out of this situation now? Chasing after you was what his heart was screaming at him, and dealing with Leona his mind, yet he simply stood, rooted to the spot, usual impulsive nature nowhere to be found.

“-so, would you like to meet her?”

Kalim turned almost robotically at the question, his gaze blank, unfocused. “What?”

“Your finance,” his father clarified rather unhelpfully, the older man tiptoeing slightly to look around the vast hall. “I’m sure she’s somewhere here, I can call her over-”

“M-maybe later,” Kalim interjected hastily, though as much as he wanted to chase after you immediately, that would have to wait. “How bout, how bout I-” Scanning the hall instead and leaving his sentence uncompleted, Jamil was easy enough to pick out amidst the sea of guests dressed to the nines, his simple outfit and golden hair ornaments making enough of a contrast to highlight the needle in the haystack. And no doubt his trusted friend and vice-housewarden had seen what had gone down, judging from those furrowed eyebrows and concerned stare. 

A quick nod from the other and Jamil was off, quick footsteps carrying the black-haired boy down the same path you had taken just minutes earlier.

With that situation now under careful watch, Kalim turned back to his parents, laughing nervously. “How bout I go and check on the guests first?

He needed to get to you.

Fast.

[lily-sofii]

Hello, sorry if its an inconvenance but i would like to request a... Request, i hope you are feeling well, sorry if im interrupting something m, your the first one i see that accept crk requests

Royal Margarine cookie x witch/sorcerer! Reader. SOMEHOW a cookie get the cookies equivalent of a god to fall for them... The cookie's Royal Margarine cookie, Reader first sawn butter cream as the adorable and strong wyvern she is first though

A/N: I'm trying a new editing style, so please notify me if there are any mistakes or anything wrong! (Also, I forgot that reader was supposed to be a witch, I'm so sorry!)

TW(?): alcohol

Alcohol-induced hallucination

Who cares that Royal Margarine Cookie isn’t a real dragon rider? He doesn’t! Not one bit… right? Right!

Well, it really doesn’t matter, does it? No one knows, and no one ever will! This is a secret he’ll take to the grave. To a glorious, golden grave that’s fit for a hero like him. A glorious end for a life that can't even be called glorious as a joke.

So… why is his mind stuck on you, instead of focusing on the glory and recognition he craves?

Before he met you, his mind was always filled with the need for fame and admiration. Every minute of every hour was spent chasing after the recognition he believed he deserved.

So why isn’t he pursuing it anymore? Why is he stuck chasing after a cookie who doesn’t feel the same way?

Well, that’s probably the reason. You ignore him whenever he’s near you. That’s something new, something that’s never happened before.

It feels like his life has always been filled with women who chase after him without him having to lift a finger. But you? Nothing. No matter how hard he tries to charm you, you don’t even look his way.

It’s that indifference that’s driven him to obsession. He craves your attention. Needs your love. Desires your adoration.

Night after night, he whines to Buttercream about his inability to get you to even notice him. As expected, his beloved wyvern snickers at his plight… well, as much as a wyvern can snicker.

As morning breaks once more, Royal Margarine Cookie makes his way to the square, just like he always does. But he’s not searching for adoration. No. He’s looking for you.

-

He slumps onto a bench with a sigh after hours of failing to find you. Buttercream flaps his wings slightly as he settles on the ground beside the bench.

Royal Margarine looks at the wyvern and scoffs.

“Fine, I failed. Is that what you want to hear? I couldn’t find her! Now, go away. You’re not helping.”

The wyvern tilts its head, flapping its wings before taking off into the sky.

Royal Margarine sighs in defeat, closing his eyes. He’ll look for you after a nap. He’s just so tired. He’ll find you when he wakes up… he swears.

---

His eyes snap open when he hears your voice, exhaustion forgotten. How long has he been asleep? Wait—never mind that! Where is your voice coming from?! He needs to see you!

He sits up quickly, the excitement draining from him just as fast.

His eyes land on his beloved wyvern, Buttercream, sitting on the grass with you standing next to him. Your honey-like voice coos at the wyvern as you rub its head.

Wait, what?!

You’re paying attention to Buttercream?!

That traitor!

He’s getting no belly rubs tonight! … And Royal Margarine Cookie? He’s getting wine. Lots of it. He needs to forget about this betrayal.

He storms off, turning his back on the scene and heading straight for the nearest tavern.

Drink after drink, sip after sip, Royal Margarine tries to drown his sorrows. Glass after glass of wine is placed on the table in front of him, but still, he feels like your voice is just behind him.

“Are… Are you alright?”

There it is. Your voice again.

He groans, laying his head on the wooden table and grabbing another glass of wine, pressing it to his lips. The sweetness fills his mouth, then slides down his throat. It’s almost sad—how the sweet liquid can quench his thirst, but not the ache in his heart.

He narrows his eyes when the chair opposite him creaks. Who dares sit next to him while he's drowning in despair?

Royal Margarine Cookie’s eyes widen when he sees you sitting before him. Is this an alcohol-induced hallucination? It must be. You wouldn’t just… sit next to him.

The wine makes him hiccup as he sits up, spilling some of it on his clothes.

“Ngh… You even haunt me when I drink to forget you.”

He hiccups and furrows his brows, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Why can’t you see I love you?! Any other woman would be lucky to be in your place!”

Royal Margarine Cookie continues sobbing and babbling in his drunken state, unaware that you’re actually real and sitting right in front of him. In his mind, this is just another alcohol-induced hallucination.

Your eyes widen as he sobs and confesses his feelings.

Did the dragon rider himself fall in love with you?

Well, they say alcohol makes you speak the truth.

After a few more minutes of whining, Royal Margarine’s head slips onto the table, soft snores escaping his mouth, accompanied by a string of saliva.

The alcohol has knocked him out cold.

Chances are, he won’t remember his drunken confessions. But you? You’ll remember every word.

[permian-tropos]

strychnine > rat poison meme, you're truly suffering from success

Let me answer this with an essay for some goddamn reason.

The resource management mechanics have always been a source of comedy. Sometimes it's from taking a mechanic extremely literally, eg. does Artemy rush and crush his tinctures in P2? Is that the arbitrary reason why the bottles can't be reused (it's probably more to do with not contaminating them, but it's not super consistent what contents count as contamination)?

Or sometimes it is absurd without needing to nitpick, eg. in P1 you can catch rats in a bag and race them for money. Yes it's silly, but it's kind of a metaphor for the three protagonists competing to cure the town in their own ways. You're meant to consciously or subconsciously realize, watching your rat double back on itself and miss the obvious goal in front of it, that you're the rat. Put a pin in that thought.

When it comes to the mental health mechanics in P3, they're still taking feedback on them and tweaking them to make them challenging but also immersive, so there's time to let them know if anything is too absurd. But if done right in the final release, it will emphasize how important Daniil's mind is for him to function. You'll be constantly reminded that this isn't something to take for granted.

I also have a feeling that Daniil's apathy death represents the constant urge to kill himself he's dealing with, but the fact it turns everything into black and white film suggests it's not "canon" that he literally could shoot himself in any circumstance, right in front of anybody. The time travel mechanics involve him replaying his memories, chopping them up, and editing them as if they're a tangible film reel (for some reason that makes me think about famous incidents of Soviet censorship of physical media, and the supernatural turn that takes in Disco Elysium lore? maybe there's a connection here). If you let apathy sink in, that represents him—or you the player—giving up on playing this particular section, on editing this section of the film. He gives in to the suicidal impulse in part because you've relived this part of his ordeal wrong, and he abandons that reality to try a new one.

Which brings us to the strychnine. It is a poison, but a very small amount can make you high, and historically, people took that risk. It seems like there isn't a sensible limit to how much of it you can ingest as Daniil Dankovsky, though. Daniil's mind is fracturing more and more as he relives and rewrites his own memories. Keeping him immersed in the reality of each memory involves feeding him poison to get him high. What does that tell us? That he's not reliving these events so that he personally can survive them. Even if giving up on trying to fix the past is a suicidal act, the effort of trying to fix the past is also suicidal, self-sacrificial. This is how it was in Marble Nest. He wasn't reliving the day over and over to escape his own death—at one point he considers shooting himself to contain the infection.

The comedy of Daniil eating "rat poison" is in the impression that he, like suggested by the P1 rat races, is in fact one of the rats. His time looping seems so futile and doomed, and he is forcing himself to do it anyway by overdosing on a stimulant that was used in his time by athletes and academics, to the point where it transforms into its other, more dehumanizing use, killing vermin.

[nectardaddy]

don't ever leave - inumaki toge

cw: mentions of blood and death, anxiety/panic attack, light angst in the beginning

notes: not my fav but it's been sitting in my drafts forever, sorta edited

His throat was raw and scorched from words already, thinking to himself he would only make matters worse if he spoke at all. But what would he say if he could? What could he say at all?

How does one offer comfort without words?

It was past midnight, and the young man grappled with the very thought alone as he held you. Holding you tightly as if you would slip away at any moment. Violet eyes watched as tears slipped down your cheeks, feeling his heart strings tie themselves in knots at your broken form. You held onto him tightly, fingers grabbing at the fabric of his shirt that he had worn to bed because letting go meant being alone. And being alone made your mind race.

He didn't realize how missions strangled you, how much they choked you until you were gasping for breath even when you were safe. Didn't realize how much bloodshed and trauma his mind had already become accustomed to or completely blocked out - thinking as though if he did such, everyone else must, right?

He was so terribly wrong. Closing his eyes in guilt because that was so far from what you had done, and he hadn't even noticed. He witnessed the outpour of emotions he had long since forgotten when he opened his tired eyes to you that evening. An evening where he went to sleep rather early from the events of the day; an evening were his throat singed with pain and he winced with every swallow. An evening where he thought you did the same as you gave him a small smile before heading to bed.

But you didn't.

Unbeknownst to him, you tossed and turned, the inner turmoil of emotions bubbling up and over as you laid in bed. Tears running down your face in the darkness of the night as you repeated today's events in your mind - all the while he was sound asleep. Texting him to see if he was still awake, but with no reply you held your breath as you walked to his room. Choked sobs leaving your lips as you opened his door, too afraid to wait and knock as someone might have heard your cries.

You only craved the comfort of a man who couldn't even speak to it.

He was confused when he heard the door creek open and quickly shut, confused when the sound of soft cries hit his ears, and concerned when he heard the gentle call of his name. Groggy eyes opening at the noise only to find your shattered frame, haphazardly wiping your eyes and shoulders slumped - oh god why were you crying?

Now he was sat up in his bed, holding you like his life depended on it; because in that moment, he thought yours surely did. Pale fingers running down your back as he believed he shouldn't speak a word, he couldn't speak a word. His throat was raw and scorched from words already, thinking to himself he would only make matters worse if he spoke at all. But what would he say if he could? What could he say at all?

That you were alright? His words would snap you into a false sense of security, no longer feeling your emotions but shoving them down even further. Ask you what was wrong? You would spill your guts to him involuntarily, whether you wanted to share or not. Even if he were to utter a safe word, his throat was so shredded it would send him into a coughing fit. Then you would care less about your own feelings and more about his well-being. He was at a loss. So he held you. Unwavering in his hold as your tears didn't seem to stop, but wanting nothing more than to ease your mind.

"Sometimes I don't even want to be a sorcerer at all," he heard your mumble, your words jumbled and hushed as you kept your head in his chest. He could only nod gently, hoping you understood that he was listening, as you continued on. "I can't bear seeing you hurt yourself because I'm too weak to do anything."

His heart sunk in his chest at your statement, closing his eyes once more as his mind raced to block out the memory. But to no avail. The mere thought of the blood that pooled in his mouth earlier that day made him sick, and the visceral reaction that came with the thought of harm coming to you was nauseating. It was a thought he desperately wanted to speak to, one of which he only wished to utter the words he wanted.

He would rather succumb death than have you meet the same fate.

As much as the man swore to himself, to his friends, you didn't have such a foothold in his heart, his life would shatter without you in it. He vowed he would never, not in a million years, be so attached to someone he would risk his very own life. But here he sat, voice mutilated and hoarse as he had done just that. Yuuta would tell him it was, morbidly, romantic, but the young man would wholeheartedly deny ever doing such a thing - he was only doing the mission assigned. But he was naive to think such a thing, naive to push his own feelings aside for the sake of ego.

He didn't want to pull away, but he so desperately wanted to speak to your statement, to ease your mind in some way, shape, or form. The tears you shed made his heart wring and shatter. 'It's alright,' he signed, trying his best as he only pulled away one hand as to hold you with the other. 'I'm alright,' he reassured.

"You can't even speak, Toge," you quipped, your voice harsh as it was filled with tears and sorrow. Within your own words, you found yourself clutching his clothing for dear life. Hoping that if you guarded him, as you did your mind, he wouldn't slip through your fingers. Not whisk himself away through means of being a victor, a protector, because how could one protect if they were gone?

'But I'm here,' he signed, a simple statement that even he reveled in. Sorcery was a sinful business, a lethal business; one of which that broke the spirit, mind, and body. A morbid testament to those who ever dared to join the fray - it was win or die trying. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

Usually, the young man wasn't favorable with emotions, never knowing what to do, if anything at all. But it felt natural for his fingers to touch your chin, instinctive for his touch to be gentle and caring as he offered you to look at him. Violet eyes meeting your own troubled ones and pale fingers thumbing away a tear that slipped down your stained cheeks, he gave you a small, tired smile. "M' here," he choked out, his voice hoarse and broken. Seemingly a whisper compared to your own, as he couldn't find the strength to project.

The act made your heart melt within your chest, and few words were enough to set it ablaze. Though it was coarse and fractured, they were the only words you needed to hear in the moment. He was here, he was alive, he was breathing - hopefully now until the end of your days. "Don't ever leave."

@inumakis-boo @inumakisser

I know you'll appreciate this lol

[ofstoriesandstardust]

can't take the home out of oklahoma - i. (k.c.)

a/n: eeee! a fever dream later, i've finally cobbled together the first part of my top gun: maverick and twisters crossover fic! it's going to be lengthy so we are in for quite the ride! it's way heavier on twisters, so any non-top gun fans should have no problem reading this. future parts will deal with darker content that's only referenced right now, so that'll all be tagged and marked accordingly. for now, it's just my standard cup of angst. reblog and comments are always appreciated!!

summary: After a twisted stroke of luck, you leave behind your whole life in San Diego, California and find yourself in Oklahoma with Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers.

warnings: swearing, weather inaccuracies, flashbacks, reference to past trauma, alcohol

word count: 5.7k

Your finger rubs gently over the crinkled piece of paper Jake had torn off for you, the phone number and the name Tyler Owens written in the neat penmanship the blonde prided himself on. 

If you ever find yourself down South and need something, Jake had said, a bit out of breath as he’d run out of the house after you. If you need anything, call that number. They’ll help you. 

The cursor blinks back up at you on the call pad, your cracked screen making a mockery of you. The chaos of the San Diego airport whirls around you, pressing in on you the longer you sit here. 

You take a deep breath and press call. 

-

His phone starts vibrating on the table and he frowns, eyebrows furrowing as the team, crowded around the table in the RV, goes quiet. 

He answers, despite it being an unknown number. “Tyler Owens.”

“Hi. Uh,” A shaky breath comes from the other end of the receiver before introducing themselves to him. “Uh, Jake Seresin gave me your number. Told me to call if I needed anything.” 

His gut drops at the name, a clench in his heart. “What can I do for ya?” 

“Look, I’ve- I’ve had a rough week and I’m, I’m sort of finding my life upside down. And uh, I guess I’m just grasping at straws here. Jake said, he said you could help me.”

“That so? Well, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to be more specific. How can I help you? What can I do for you?”

“A- a purpose, maybe? I need a purpose, something to do. Um, I’m in San Diego right now but I need to get out of here.”

Tyler frowns, eyes flicking around at his team. They’re all curious as to what’s unfolding, and he scrubs at his forehead, knowing they’ll be upset with him for pulling the trigger on this without talking it through with them first.

But damn it, this girl sounded scared and Jake had sent her to him. Had told her he’d help her, and he would see to it that he did. 

He wasn’t going to leave her behind. 

“Tell you what, get yourself on a plane to Oklahoma. I’ll come get you. You can come work with me and my team.”

“You- your team?” Though she sounds hesitant, she almost sounds relieved at having some sort of direction now. 

“Storm chasers. Ish. We’re doing some field research out here in Tornado Alley, but I’ve got a team, the Tornado Wranglers. And honestly, we need another set of hands out of here managing the backend of things.”

The word managing was the wrong choice as it immediately sends his team into protest. Boone stands up abruptly, Javi and Kate whispering protests to him, as Lilly starts making a face. He waves a hand, wanting them to be quiet. 

The last thing he needed was for this girl to hear, to hang up, to not follow through. 

“Okay.” You say, and he thinks he hears you stand up. “Okay, I’ll find the soonest flight out. Um, what kind of things do you need help with? My background- it’s not in science.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure we could find something around here you can help with. Research grant editing or something.”

“I’ve actually got experience with that.” You say with a choked laugh, and Tyler can feel the relief bleed through the phone. He smiles a bit, pressure easing as he does. 

“Then we’ll make sure we put you to work.” There’s a beat as he hears the intercom in the airport go off in the background. “Listen, text me when your flights supposed to land. I’ll make sure I’m there to get you. We’re out in the field right now, so it may be a bit of trek out here, but I’ll make sure you get here.” 

You confirm and he hangs up and his team starts yelling before the phone is even back on the table. 

“We don’t need another team member man-“

“A manager? What kind of business do you take this for?” 

“Are you serious? Kate and I, we’ve got the grant stuff covered-“ 

“This really tells us how you feel about us, Owens.” 

He glances at Kate, who’s looking at him with a guarded expression he hasn’t seen since he first met her. She doesn’t excuse herself, simply pushing her way out, climbing around the back of Javi and Boone. 

-

It would be hard to miss Tyler, the way he’s signing an autograph, cowboy hat atop his head as he leans against the truck branded with the Tornado Wranglers logo.

You stop dead, a cold feeling washing over you at the eerie reminder of the person you’d just left behind. 

This Tyler Owens might be Jake Seresin’s doppelgänger, and based on what you’d seen during the flight you were beginning to suspect the only difference between them is the way they chased the adrenaline high. 

During the flight, you’d bought in-flight WiFi for the first time in your life, just to learn who these people were, who you’d be spending time with. Trying to understand what you’d gotten yourself into. 

Tyler perks up at the sight of you, a smile growing on his face. He holds out his hand and you take it, noting the genuine smile. You shake his hand, swallowing around the burning desire to ask the question. 

“Welcome to good ol’ Oklahoma.” He welcomes. “You ready to hit the road? The team is a bit of a ways out.” 

You nod as Tyler grabs your small duffel bag, throwing it in the back of the truck before you can even ask. 

You climb in the front, taking note of all the gadgets the truck is equipped with. “What’s all this?” You ask, as he turns the key, pulling away from the curb. “Storm chasing stuff?”

“You could say that. The trucks decked out with all kinds of stuff.”

The radio is soft in the background as Tyler talks to you about the team, about what you’ll be doing. 

As Tyler talks, as you talk, as you both think of things for you to do, you begin to lose interest in the conversation as the Oklahoma skyline begins to paint itself into a deep orange. 

“Can we stop?” You ask, voice full of wonder as you peer out windshield, watching the sky transform itself. 

You feel Tyler look over at you, before turning on his blinker despite the lack of cars around. The truck rolls to a stop as you dig around, pulling the disposable camera you’d bought from the bottom of your backpack. Tyler hasn’t even parked before you’re slipping out of the truck, walking around the front to take a picture of the sunset. 

“I haven’t seen a sunset like this since I was a kid.” You breathe, the camera clicking as you do. 

“I hear California has pretty good sunsets.” Tyler says, sticking his hands in his pockets as he stands next to you. 

You shrug.  “They do, but if you’re in the inner city, a lot of times the good ones are hard to catch. They’re easier to see at the beach but the marine layer blocks a lot of the good ones.” You say, turning to Tyler. “At least in my opinion. We can get back on the road now.” 

He nods, eyes steadily watching you as you turn on your heel, climbing back in the truck. Tyler’s a few beats behind you, still standing in the same spot as you buckle your seatbelt. 

The rest of the drive is quiet, the flow of quiet country music coming through the radio as the Oklahoma skies turns from dusk to night. 

By the time you roll up to camp, it’s clear that Tyler’s team has gone to bed, save for one. 

An older man perks up at the sight of you, climbing to his feet from his chair. “Ah, Tyler. Was just about to call and see where you were. This our new teammate?” 

Tyler nods, introducing you to this man. You step forward taking his outstretched hand. 

“Dexter.” He says, a smile on his face. “You must’ve had a long day. We’ve got some leftovers, can I get you anything? We’ve also got our extra tent set up, it’s where you’ll be sleeping.”

You glance at Tyler, although you’re not sure for what. Reassurance maybe. “I’d love some food. And a water maybe? I don’t have a water bottle with me anymore.”

It’s almost a natural instinct to wince at the thought of the loss of your emotional support water bottle that was probably laying in some crevice in the wreckage in Texas. 

Dexter sets to work as Tyler settles himself in front of the fire, a beer in hand. “We’re meant to head to town tomorrow anyways. We’ll stop, get you stuff to help out with the team. Maybe some new camping gear and whatever.” He takes a sip of his beer, cringing as he does. “Just realizing you’ll probably have to sleep on the dirt; I don’t think we’ve got any extra protectors after we visited the last wreckage. We should probably get more stuff tomorrow anyway.” 

“It’s no worries.” You say with a wave of your hand. “I was a Girl Scout for like, eight years, so it’s not a big deal. Won’t phase me.”

A head pops out from a tent nearby. Tyler perks up at the sight of him, as the man sticks his hands in the pockets of the zip-up he’s wearing. “You want a jacket?”

You glance down, realizing you’re shivering. “Uh, yeah, that’d be nice.” 

He gives you a cautious smile before looking to Tyler. “Hey Ty, man, I’ve got an extra pullover in the back of the van, can you grab it?” 

Tyler nods as the man reaches a hand out. “I’m Javi.” 

You shake it, introducing yourself.

“You from around here? You don’t sound it.” 

You shake your head. “San Diego, actually.”

Tyler comes back the same time Dexter comes back with your food and Dexter waits patiently as you scramble, pulling the soft material over your head. 

It smells strongly of rain in a way you can’t explain. In a way, the smell brings you a sliver of comfort. 

You take the food from Dexter as you do, thanking him. 

“Dexter, this is incredible.” You say around the bite. 

“It’s an old family recipe from down in the bayou. I’ve tweaked it so we can make it out here on the road, but it’s a crowd pleaser when I do.”

“You from New Orleans?” You ask and he nods. “My boyf- my ex boyfriend now I guess-“ You say, taking another bite in hopes to hide the awkward way you swallow around those words. “He’s from out there too.” 

Dexter sighs. “I miss that place, I do. But it wasn’t easy to stay after Katrina. I lost my whole family.” 

Your heart pangs, at his words, and it aches, at the thought of the person you’d left behind. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” You say softly. 

Javi clears his throat. “You need anything else?” You shake your head and he stands up again. “I really oughta get to sleep, but we’ll chat more tomorrow, yeah?” 

You nod and Javi gives you another cautious smile. In your heart, you want to believe there’s maybe a little hope hidden in it too. 

Dexter also bids you and Tyler goodnight, and the two of you sit there, the crackling fire filling the silence as you eat. 

“Thank you Tyler.” You say softly, staring at the burning embers after you’ve finished eating. 

You know you should explain to him how it all happened, how you got here, but Tyler doesn’t ask and you can’t forget the vision in your head of Steven’s cold eyes, unseeing. 

“You’re giving me a second chance here, and I really do appreciate it.” You settle on instead. 

He nods. “Whatever I can do to help.” 

You excuse yourself, bidding the man goodnight, only to find yourself tossing and turning on the hard ground. 

You thought sleep would come to you easier, with how emotional the last week has been, but everytime you close your eyes and a breeze rolls through, it all comes flooding back, the haze of freezing rain, of a rusty storm grate, a heavy body, and so much blood-

The sound of a door shutting (from the RV if you had to guess,) causes you to open your eyes, sitting up on the makeshift bed. 

“I don’t want her here Tyler.” A female voice says, and you frown. 

There’s a beat. 

“Too bad Sapulpa, she’s staying.” Tyler responds. 

“Stay here and do what?” The girl asks incredulously. “We don’t need her help. And I didn’t know you’re suddenly in the business of helping out random strangers who call you in the middle of the day-“

“This is our whole business, Kate.” He says firmly. “We help people. Strangers. That’s what we’re here to do, remember?”

“And how are you helping her?” 

Tyler’s quiet for a minute again. “We’re giving her a second chance.”

“A second chance? Are you serious?” The girl, Kate, huffs. 

“It wasn’t that long ago it was you who needed a second chance. We gave that to you, remember?”

Another zipper being yanked cuts off Kate’s response. 

“Yo!” It’s Javi. “Can y’all argue about this tomorrow?” 

You don’t hear the sound of Kate’s footsteps but you hear the slam of the RV door loud and clear. 

Tyler goes through the motions, getting the camp cleaned up, before putting the fire out. And then you hear him slip into the RV and for the first time in days, in the quiet of the Oklahoma night, it feels like you can breathe. 

-

You awake with a gasp, clawing at the blankets as if it was Jake’s flannel, holding on for dear life through the storm. 

You swallow back the bile threatening to spill over and blindly climb from the nest of blankets, pulling the zipper down, and stumbling into the sun. 

You swallow as someone’s head turns. It’s a girl, sat at the table the crew has set up outside. You pull yourself from the tent, unable to shake your nerves as you take in the soft baby pink hues above her in the sky. 

You introduce yourself softly and she gives you a tight smile in between bites of yogurt. “Kate.”

Your heart clenches, realizing this must be the girl you’d heard last night. 

It’s an awkward silence the two of you sit in, the baby pink fading from the sky as Tyler pulls himself from the RV. When she sees Tyler, she quietly excuses herself and brushes past him, floating back into the RV.

“You oughta get that screen fixed.” Tyler comments, sitting down next to you. 

“Haven’t had time.” You say with a shrug as you glance at the screen on your phone. It was more shattered than it was cracked, a hazard really, but what could you do? 

“I’ll take you to a place in town today that’ll replace it for cheap.” Tyler says around a bite. “Can I get you anything to eat?” 

Tyler’s team appears over the next hour, and he introduces them as they do. Dexter appears from the RV first and then Dani and Lilly from the back of the van. Boone gets dragged out from the van by Lilly twenty minutes later, and Boone pulls Javi from his tent because “if I have to be awake so do you Miami.” 

Kate doesn’t leave the RV for the rest of the morning. 

-

“They don’t like me.” You say quietly, drumming your fingers on the car door as Tyler drives to the motel that evening. 

“They barely know you-“

“Cut the shit Tyler, I heard Kate last night.” You say sharply, sending him a cold glare. “They don’t want me here.” You roll out your shoulders, looking back out the window. “If you want me to go back, it’s okay.” 

“And send you back to god knows what?” 

“I’d be fine.”

“Kid, you sounded so damn terrified on that phone — I’m not inclined to turn around and give you back to that fear.”

You swallow around a sigh, feeling Tyler watch you as he drives. 

“Give me a week. Give me a week to make it work. And if you still feel like you need to go back, hell, I’ll pay for your flight.” 

You look at Tyler, noting the serious look in his eyes. 

“Okay. One week.”

-

The next week feels simultaneously long and short in the worst ways. 

Short, in that it feels like your time is running out. 

Long, in that there are no storms to chase, dissipating before the team ever has a chance. 

Long, in that you sit around most days, doing your own research on grants and sponsors and the backgrounds of potential investors and articles on social media growth. 

Long, in that you don’t really talk to any of them, except for the one time you look over at Javi’s computer, just to tell him that his sentence didn’t make any sense. 

Long in that, Kate refuses to be anywhere near you and Boone ignores you and Lilly shuts you out of conversation and Javi sort of looks at you like you’re some sort of alien placed down next to them. 

It’s only on the sixth day, when you’re collecting everything you’ve worked on all week to give to Tyler in the morning before he takes you back, that something happens. 

The storm is too far away for them to chase it, to get any research done, but Tyler and Lilly agree that the team should head in, to be there to help out and hand out food in the aftermath. 

Because, apparently, that’s what this team is known for. 

You feel awkward here, watching the team spring into action. You feel out of place, not knowing what you were supposed to say or do as these people dug through the rubble of their lives. 

You were supposed to help people. Tyler had said you could help people here. 

The team is distracted just enough, that it’s you who catches it, not them. 

The sounds of a cry, somebody softly shushing them. You round a corner, heart breaking at the sight. 

There, a small little boy, maybe around the age of 8, is holding who seems to be his little sister as she cries. 

The poor girl can’t be any older than 3 or 4.

“I want Mom.” She blubbers out and the boy shushes her. 

“I know, sissy, we just gotta-“ The boy looks around helplessly. 

“Hey.” You call out, stepping around the rubble. “Hey, do you need help?” 

The boy nods. “Mom said not to move but-“

You hold your hands out. “Stay where you are, okay? I’ll come get you and your sister alright?” 

The boy nods, clinging to his sister’s hand.  You make your way through the rubble, kicking things out of the way to make a path back before finally reaching the two kids. You kneel down best as you can, leveling yourself to them as you introduce yourself. 

“I’m here to help. Can you tell me your name?” 

“I’m Jack.” The boy says. “This is Bella. She’s bleeding and I can’t find my Mom-“

“Hey, hey.” You soothe. “We’ll get you guys some help and get you out of here, okay? We’ll find your Mom.” You look at Bella. “Bella? Are you okay if I carry you? I’m going to help you find someone to patch that cut up, okay?” Bella nods and Jack lets her go as you scoop her up. You hold out your hand for Jack as the two of you navigate your way out.

As you weave your way through people, you ask Jack soft questions about himself, where he goes to school, if he likes dinosaurs or trucks, distracting him as he talks to you. Once you get the two kids to the EMTs, you duck around the side, in search of someone from your team. 

“Kate.” You call, as she’s sifting through rubble, calling for a dog. She glances over at you. “Hey, I’ve got two little kids here who can’t find their Mom. I’m gonna stay with them but can you let the team know? Just in case anyone sees her.” 

The face Kate makes is difficult to read as she nods. You sigh, making your way back around the truck. 

Bella’s all patched up and Jack is studying the logo on your shirt, lighting up when he recognizes it. 

“Mom lets me watch their YouTube channel sometimes!” 

You scoop Bella back up in your arms, holding a hand out for Jack to jump down as you do. 

“Oh well then I’m guessing you don’t want to come see the tornado-proof truck?” 

-

It’s late in the day when Bella and Jack’s Mom comes running down the street, hysterical. Tyler and Kate aren’t far behind her. 

Her arm is in a sling and there’s a few bumps and bruises on her, but otherwise she’s fine. Both of the kids light up at the sight of their Mom, and she’s tearful, thanking you over and over for helping them, for watching over her babies.

You wave her off, citing babysitting as just another thing you’re used to, a big family and all that. 

It’s as they’re walking away, Dexter asking if you want any food, Jack shouts out. 

They turn back, Bella running back to you with the stuffed animal she’d been holding in hand. You kneel down as she holds it out for you to take, heart aching as you look at the stuffed pig. 

Bella had seen it atop your stuff when you’d taken them in the RV and had been holding it ever since. 

It was one of the few things you had of your life left behind but you know when it’s time to let something go. 

“You keep it okay?” You say softly. “You take care of yourself little Bella?” She wraps her arms around your neck, the stuffie clutched between her little fingers. You return the hug, exhaling as you do. Bella lets you go, returning to her Mom and her brother and you stand back up, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Do you want some food? You’ve been with those kids all day.” Dani says softly, holding the box. 

“How’d you find Mom?” You ask quietly, crossing your arms. 

Tyler sighs. “Was sitting with her the whole afternoon when Kate came down the street, hearing her talk about her missing kids. Kate connected the dots.”

Your arms wrap around yourself tighter. “Kate, I told you I was with those kids. I told you to tell the team in case anybody found Mom.” 

Kate opens her mouth but no words come out as Lilly’s eyes slide between the two of you. 

“Here.” Lilly says gently as she holds the box out, taking it from Dani. “You should eat. Been a long day.”

“I’m not hungry.” You say. “I’m gonna get in the truck, let me know when we’re leaving.” 

-

You sling your backpack over your shoulder, the truck door shutting behind you as you walk up the motel steps. 

The backpack, downsized from your duffel bag as Tyler had gone through the Oklahoma necessities with you, which was hardly anything you owned, feels heavy as you do. 

“Hey.” Kate’s voice calls out. “That was a really nice thing you did for that little girl.” 

Tears sting at your eyes as you push the key into the lock, pressing against the door with your body weight to get the door to unstick. 

You think Tyler says something as you shut the door but under the hot water of the shower rushing down you, you can’t hear anything else.

-

You clear your throat, announcing your presence as you do. Tyler and Kate pause in their conversation as they look over to you. 

You set the folder down in front of Tyler, Javi’s pullover in front of Kate. 

“Just wanted to give these to you. Tyler, do you want me to just wait in the truck?” 

Tyler peeks at the folder as Kate asks “Wait for what?”

“What is all of this?” Tyler asks, flipping through the pages. 

“Research on potential investors and their backgrounds. Just so you guys don’t get into another StormPar situation. There’s some stuff about grants, donors in there. Other stuff I tracked down about how you could grow your social media, ideas I had. There might be a couple of pages about laws on people donating, not sure. It’s everything I’ve done this week. Y’all don’t have to use it but I just thought it might be helpful as lead points.” 

“This is- this is really great stuff.” Tyler remarks. “It’s gonna be a real loss to not have your brain on our team.” 

“Wait - are you leaving?” Kate asks, eyes flying between you and Tyler. 

“I’ll meet you at the truck.” You say, turning to leave. You think you hear Kate repeat the question to Tyler, but you shut the door to the RV before you can hear their conversation further. Across the parking lot, Javi calls out, but you wave him off as you climb into the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck. 

Your heart feels heavy as you look at your own Javy’s contact. 

It would be so easy to pick up the phone, to tell him you made a mistake, to beg him to let you come home. 

He would too, and he would pick you up from the airport, and he’d wash the Oklahoma from your skin, and he’d hold you through the loss. 

But then you remember Jake’s defeated look as the two of you had assessed the damage, the way he’d asked you to lie. 

You remember the blood-

A startled gasp leaves you as someone knocks on the window. 

It’s Kate. 

You roll down the window.

“You’re leaving?” 

You eye her, unsure why she appears to be almost nervous, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her arms. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why?” 

You shrug, surveying the team in the parking lot. “It just didn’t work out. I didn’t fit here.” 

“But-“ She worries her bottom lip. “Where will you go?��� 

“I’ll figure it out.” You say simply.

You’d have to because you knew the alternative would be devastating to everyone you’d ever known. 

She sighs, eyes flickering to Tyler, who’s moving closer. “Well, we’re headed to my Mom’s tonight. You should stay one more night. You’ve never even had real Oklahoma barbecue.”

A dry laugh escapes you without your permission. “Kate, what are you playing at here?”

She seems shocked, not expecting your question. “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. “Kate, c’mon, you told Tyler you didn’t want me here.” 

Her face drops as her arms fall by her sides. “You heard that?” She says quietly. 

“Yeah.”

She licks her lips. “Look, I ain’t good with new people. I’m- It’s a me thing.” She looks down, scuffing her boot on the ground. “It’s my problem and I misjudged you. I’m sorry. Give me another night to show you how it could be.” 

“Why the hell would I stay to see how it could be when I know at this moment I’m not wanted here?” 

“I do.” She says softly. “Want you here. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” 

You let out breath through your nose, meeting Tyler’s eyes through the windshield. 

You think of Dexter’s food, Javi’s pullover, Dani and Lilly’s gentle insistence you feed yourself last night. 

You think of the Louisiana area code sitting open on your phone right now. 

“One night, Kate.”

-

“I sure am sorry you’ll have to sleep on the floor. I just wasn’t expecting an extra person from the crew but we can make sure you have somewhere to sleep tomorrow night-“ 

You cut her off, holding your hands out for the dishes from dinner. “That’s very kind of you Ms. Cooper, but I’m just fine sleeping on the floor.” 

“Please, I keep telling you to just call me Cathy and, well, you could stay in Kate’s bed?” Cathy offers as you take the plates from her. 

“Think you’d find my throat slit tomorrow.” You mutter and Tyler barks out a laugh. 

“You deserved that one Kate.” 

Cathy turns to her daughter, a look on her face. “What did you do?”

Kate pulls a face, holding her hands out. “What- Nothing, Mom!” 

Cathy hums, eyebrows furrowing but you cut them off. “The floor is just fine, Ms. Cooper. Um, do you mind pointing me in the direction of the bathroom so I could change?”

-

“Do Tyler and Kate have a thing?” You ask, taking a sip of the hot chocolate Lilly had made as Javi chuckles next to you. 

You’re watching the group fight over Uno, you and Javi sat in front of a puzzle. 

“They did at one point. When they first met, but they burned out pretty fast. Figured out they were better off as friends.” You hum and Javi’s grin grows. “Why, you thinking you want to start something up with Owens?” 

You blanch and shake your head. “No, I think I’ve more than had my fill on macho thrill seekers for this lifetime.”

Javi lets out a laugh, a real one, for the first time all week. You smile, thinking of how Tyler would fit in with those pilots like he’d always belonged there. 

You were all set on those types.

Kate though…

If Kate hadn’t been so cold to you, Kate would’ve been the type of girl you could see yourself falling for. 

Witty, bright, a soft smile always worn on her face. She’s at ease here and it makes your heart hurt to see. You want to someday be as at ease as she looks, wedged in between Boone and Dexter, the brightest smile you’ve seen from her on her face. 

“So how the hell does a city girl like you find herself in Oklahoma?”

You slide a puzzle piece into place. “I don’t, I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay.” 

Javi sighs, quiet for a minute. “Look, I’m sorry we were so off-putting when you first got here. We’re a tight knit group and we’ve been through a lot together. And-“

“Javi.” You cut him off with a tight smile. “You don’t have to explain. I get it, okay? You guys aren't the first group to not want me around and you won’t be the last, alright?”

He heaves a breath, an unreadable look on his face. “Just- if anyone might understand the things you’re running from, it would be us.”

“Who says I’m running?”

Javi raises an eyebrow and you sigh, setting the pieces you’re sorting through down. 

“Look, I’m not running. I’m just- I’m just trying to leave something behind.” 

Javi studies you for a few minutes as you set back to work on the puzzle. 

“Shame you and Kate can’t get along. You two are more alike than you think.”

-

You awake with a start, fingers clenching in unfamiliar fabric. 

“Are you okay?” Someone asks softly and you blink, Kate coming into focus. 

Right, you had- you had slept next to her last night after she’d worn you down. You couldn’t deny how nice it had sounded to sleep in a real bed. 

“Fine.” You breathe, willing yourself to forget the shouts of a friend left behind.

She frowns as she pulls her pants on. “I’m, uh, sorry for waking you up. Gotta help Mom with the cows.” 

You wave a hand, pulling yourself to sit up in the bed. “Want a hand?” 

“Mom would kill me if I let a guest help. Why don’t you get some more sleep, okay?”

You lay back down as she quietly ducks out of the room, but you know sleep won’t come. 

You’re restless so you pull yourself from the bed, padding down the staircase and sitting in one of the chairs on the porch. Tyler appears a minute later, an extra coffee mug in hand. You take it from him with a quiet thank you before the two of you start to watch Kate. 

“So California, are we gonna talk about it?” Tyler asks. 

You sigh as Tyler kicks his feet out. “Well, you’re gonna ask me questions I don’t want to answer and I’m gonna ask you ones you don’t want to answer, so unless you want to start copping to some things…”

Tyler shakes his head. “Won’t talk about it then, California.”

You eye him. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me that. Sort of hard to leave that life behind when you keep calling me that.”

“You gonna stay?” Tyler asks, looking over at you. 

You shrug, finger running over the rim of the mug. “I don’t know that I should.”

“I know it’s been a rough start with them.” Tyler sighs, shoulders hiked up. “But they’re good people.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” 

“You’re good people too.”

“Doesn’t make me a good fit here.”

Tyler sighs. “It’s my fault, I should’ve approached it a different way. But if you leave, we’d really be missing out. You’ve got those fancy degrees and you’re smart and you’re one fucking selfless girl. We could use someone like you around.” 

Kate and her Mom appear, Kate’s bright smile appearing as she pulls herself onto the railing of the porch. 

“You guys hungry? I’m gonna go get started on breakfast.” 

“Starved.”

“Wanna come see the barn?” Kate asks you as her Mom opens the screen door. 

“Now hang on, California ain’t said if she’s staying. No reason to show her the barn if she’s gonna be leaving.” 

You sigh, look down at the mug you can feel going cold. You rub your thumb over the Oklahoma written into the side as you think of Kate’s smile, of Tyler’s kindness, of Dexter’s food, of Javi’s pullover that had somehow ended back up in your bag after giving it back to Tyler and Kate yesterday. 

You blink, looking back up at them. “Okay. Yeah, okay, I’ll stay."

ii.

[puranami]

✿ It's The Little Things - 4 ✿

A/N: I wish I knew how to write for Katakuri because he'd be right at home in this big boi edition ksdjh Rosi makes me cry ilhsm (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Summary: Little relationship things with a couple big bads, and Rosi who has never done anything wrong in his life and doesn't die, bc i said so ✿

Characters: Crocodile, Rosinante (Corazon), Doflamingo

Content: SFW, G/N reader (though Croc calls you doll... but I think he'd do that regardless,) fluff on toast ✿

(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer)

Crocodile

✿ It goes without saying, being with Crocodile means you are surrounded by luxury; he is a very materialistic man with a very specific image he has cultivated, and that extends to you. All your clothes, jewellery, any makeup, even down to your perfume and shampoo are carefully considered to make sure you compliment him perfectly. He is particular, but not unreasonable, giving you options so you can make your own decision, and he will not force something on you that you hate - can't have you walking around sulking. Really though, he values your opinion, he just sets the parameters and you chose how to meet them. In fact, if you simply went along with everything he said, giving no input of your own; he'd get very bored, very quickly.

✿ When you aren't in public, basically acting as the power couple of Alabasta (before that goes awry,) and then of the Cross Guild; he allows himself to be much softer, and generally just more human with you. Work will always be his priority, but he's not against sleeping in and having a lazy day, or part day, depending on what's going on in your lives. He'll hug you randomly, catch you in his hook if he wants your attention, and just generally manhandle you, but in the gentlest way. Crocodile also enjoys cooking with you, and is not above throwing ingredients, or flicking water at you, especially if you start it, and he will throw a tea towel in your face if he wants to. It's very endearing seeing such a powerful, and feared man being a little silly, and it's only for you.

✿ His sense of humour is as dry as he is, and either you get it and laugh along, which is nice, or you find it so painful that you can't help but groan, him laughing at your suffering instead, which is even nicer. Crocodile's laugh is basically a low rumble that you can feel reverberating in his chest, which is the nicest part of all. He always drops jokes unexpectedly, in a way where you think he's just going to comment on something, or maybe flirt with you; "You know what makes me smile, doll?" - "Could it be the fact you get to spend a quiet, relaxing day with me, hmm?" - "Facial muscles." It's either the funniest thing, or you will genuinely want to throttle him. He doesn't hold it against you if you slap him over it, the impact barely registers with this living sandbag, and he takes it as a sign that the joke was a particularly good one (in his opinion.)

Rosinante (Corazon)

✿ An absolute sweetheart, and a gentle giant. He treats you like spun glass, at least to begin with, afraid he will hurt you with either his general size and strength, or his clumsy nature. It will take time for him to relax into things, but he will; humans are naturally rather resilient, and him giving you a strong hug, or falling over himself onto you is not going to break you. It still won't stop him crying over it, especially if you end up with any bruises, but you'll hold him gently as you stroke his head, soothing him while you explain that it's alright, and that these things happen; "I got a bigger bruise from accidentally kneeing the table the other day. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last either. Everything is okay, I promise." Poor guy just loves you so much, he can't stand the thought of you being hurt in any way!

✿ He absolutely adores it when you snuggle up beside him, under his massive coat. It feels like the safest place in the world, and it's so warm - nothing bad can happen under this fortress of feathers! Rosi in general is just a cuddly guy really, holding you at every opportunity, taking your relatively small hands in his giant ones, carrying you whenever and wherever you'll allow him to; always by his chest though, so when he inevitably slips, he doesn't land on you. Being your resident tall, he prefers to pick you up to reach things as opposed to grabbing those things for you, as it means he can hug you at the same time!

✿ Rosinante is absolutely ride or die with you! Whatever your dreams and ambitions, he will do everything in his power to try and help you achieve them. The only caveat is that he will also do the same for his own mission, and sometimes that overtakes him, and he will unknowingly, and definitely unwillingly overlook you at times. He keeps you completely separate from that part of his life - because it's so dangerous, and he never wants to put you in harms way. It can be lonely when he's so focused, or not around, and that's what spurs him to attach himself to you whenever he can.

Doflamingo

✿ The fact you managed to catch his attention at all is honestly a feat in itself. He's a man who has everything (until he goes to jail,) and he always gets what he wants, no matter how he has to go about it - so there must be something that he cannot buy, threaten, or manipulate out of you, or anyone else. There is something about you personally, a fearless spirit, the right kind of sass, the patient and forgiving nature of a god, just something more; you're like a unique treasure, one that he refuses to allow in the public eye, as he is a very selfish man. He basically puts you on a pedestal, catering to every little whim or desire. At least to a point. He won't prioritise you over his machinations, and he can't be soft and tender with you on command. He'll have is moments sure, but they're on his time, and only when you are alone.

✿ He loves to loom over you, manhandle you, generally just manipulate your body, all to remind you just how small and delicate you are. The man is a predator, let's be real, and you will never forget that while you are his favourite, you are still prey in his eyes. While he likes the look of you being the small, timid thing he expects from prey, he adores your looks of defiance, refusing to cower before him. It's part of what proves that you are above everyone else, excluding himself of course, and that you are worthy of his attention. You can sass him, and tell him "No," so long as you do what he says where it matters. He won't tolerate blatant disrespect and insubordination, that's a one way ticket 6ft under. Your relationship is a delicate balance of accepting your place beneath him, but not being so beneath him that you may as well not exist.

✿ In those longed for times when it's just the two of you, he will give you whatever affection you desire, even if it's not something he can really reciprocate. He likes you happy, and his pride means he will not accept that there is something he cannot get or do for you. That's not to say he doesn't love you, he does in his own way; he's just buried that part of him deep down, so deep it may never be found. Perhaps, as time goes on however, with you being a consistent presence in his life, showing him what genuine kindness and compassion are, he may remember somewhat and be able to offer it back to you. Don't hold your breath, though, if it's happening, it's not happening fast. He's certainly a convincing actor, and his mimicked affections feel real enough.

[blue--ingenue]

Staircase Ballet ("Half Life" by Imogen Heap)

Turn your sound on, I promise it's worth it :)

the lovely @bawbawbridgie kindly informed me that all of the songs in the score are songs written by Imogen Heap. she also noticed that that most of the lyrics fit the scenes they belong to. so here's a little edit I made and some things that make me go feral about this sequence :)

everytime i listen to this i imagine the lyrics are Scorpius' thoughts

the NAMES. Staircase Ballet. they are literally dancing around each other, separated but remaining in each other's orbit. Half Life. they feel incomplete without the other. they've lived the last several years at school, practically inseparable, and now they forbidden from even being near each other

Scorpius' devastated confusion. it's the same expression he wears when he confesses "Sometimes I wonder if they're right. If I am the son of Voldemort." he's so tired that part of him wonders if it's him that wrong

the lyrics "the stickler is you played not one beat wrong, you never promised me anything" - i'm imagining Scorpius, not yet out, hanging onto whatever he can. he doesn't imagine that Albus returns his feelings, but he loves him so much that he'll bear anything to be with him in any capacity

the PINING

"there may well be others, but i still like to pretend, that i'm the one you really want to grow old with"

"will you ever slow down, will i ever come first?" - thinking of this as a precursor to the "Try my life" speech in the library

THE WHOLE TIME NEAR THE END WHEN THEY'RE INCHES APART, THE LYRICS ARE A REAPEATED "HOLD ME"

the pining and agony of "you know you'll never be lonely, you know you'll always be loved, and maybe you never need more than that"

poor Scorpius, whose only family is his father (i have a headcannon that he's disowned the blood maniacs he's related to) wishes he had a family as large and tight-knit as the Potter-Weasley-Granger clan

(thinking about the library speech again) even when everything else is horrible, Albus has people who love him

"maybe you never need more than that" - my translation: "Maybe you don't need me." Scorpius loves him despite the overwhelming belief that Albus will never love him back in the same way, and he can't help it

"but for the surplus that loves, what's to become of us? does it even register on your conscience?" is the lyrical equivalent of the library monologue's "Can you imagine what that's like? Have you ever even tried?"

the use of the word "surplus," as though Scorpius' love for Albus is an unneeded, unrequited excess

[resurgentclass-stardestroyer]

Soooo I've been obsessed with the image in this post since I first saw it, and decided to hunt down the source [Star Wars Character Encyclopedia: Updated and Expanded (2016 Edition)]. Here's Mitaka's page, and a close-up of that image; unfortunately it's tiny!

Feel free to use, edit etc.

Update: here's the best digital version of that image that I can find, slightly edited [maybe I'll clean it up someday..]:

Additional notes and transcript below:

[Google lists Mitaka's actor Sebastian Armesto at 5'8" and the fact that they added 3" to him makes me giggle. Let him be a little short!]

The fact that Mitaka's homeworld is listed as 'Uknown' is interesting to me. I wonder it's something thought out by the writers, or just hand-waving [guy didn't even have a name in the movie credits, iirc]. I've long hced that Mitaka was born on a starship to Imperial parents - but it's also possible that Mitaka was taken into the FO at a very young age and simply doesn't remember his home planet.

As most Mitaka enjoyers know, Mitaka graduated at the top of his class in the Academy. Despite being appearing terrified when facing Ren, he's evidently very, very good at his job. And, I know "Ren's unforgiving command style" is being tongue in cheek, but it does implicate a contrast to Hux's command style, which is apparently not-so unforgiving.

Something I see some get wrong — Mitaka is part of the FO Navy, not the Army. He's in charge of starships rather than ground forces, and he would make the ranks of Commander, Captain, and Admiral rather than Major, Colonel, and General.

So apparently Mitaka was indeed, under Hux, the one in command of not only recapturing Dameron and Finn, but also the retrieval missions on Jakku, and giving orders — which to me seems quite a step above the responsibilities of a mere Lieutenant and why I hc Mitaka as a Lieutenant Commander, but I digress. It makes sense then why it was specifically Mitaka who was designated to tell Ren about their failure to capture both the droid and the 'fugitives' — though it's also my hc [have lots of those] that Mitaka could have put this on an underling, but chose to face Ren and take the blame personally out of a sense of duty and honor, despite being terrified.

Editing note, because I'm a graphics nerd at heart: the half-tone dots in the close-up are predictably driving me bonkers, but from what I can tell, there's not much that can be done about it other than a time-consuming paint/smudge over, or messing with PS plug-ins [as far as I know -- I'm very new to scanning print]. I tried some descaling and blurring, but of course you can't do much of that without a loss of quality and clarity, and that's something I hate to sacrifice. I'll keep messing with it. Or, if someone has any idea of another source for this picture you would be my savior ! This is the only instance I can find of this image.

Transcript:

Lieutenant Mitaka First Order Officer

Data File Affiliation: First Order Homeworld: Unknown Species: Human Height: 1.8m (5ft 11in) Appearances: VII See Also: First Order TIE pilo; Finn; General Hux; Kylo Ren

Dopheld Mitaka is an attentive young officer serving aboard the First Order flagship Finalizer. A top graduate in his Academy class, Mitaka is not prepared for Kylo Ren's unforgiving command style.

The First Order naval uniform is descended from the sharp, authoritarian styles worn by officers of the Old Empire. The charcoal gray fabric signifies naval service, while the flared breeches and stiff boots help in maintaining a rigid posture. The command cap carries the starburst symbol of the First Order.

Tough Job After failing to recapture the escaped prisoner Poe Dameron and the deserter FN-2187, Mitaka continues to oversee the progress of search teams scouring the desert wastes of Jakku. Mitaka has the unenviable task of updating Kylo Ren on the search after the fugitives flee Jakku aboard the Millennium Falcon.

[Image Caption] Mitaka issues orders on behalf of General Hux to stop the escaping TIE fighter carrying Poe Dameron and FN-2187.

[h0pebloomedfromtheabyss]

I'm attempting to cook up an AU of fem sabigiyuu (kny) as mizisua (alnst) but I'm not sure who is supposed to be who so I compiled some notes

giyuu → sua

really volatile and sensitive (react more emotionally than others)

sabito/mizi are their only sources of happiness (depend on their loved ones to feel joy to an unhealthy degree)

would die for sabito/mizi (sua DID die for mizi)

more hostile towards other people

if sua survived instead of mizi SOMEHOW, she would become exactly like giyuu after he lost sabito

had older sisters with long black hair

emotionally immature (they can't deal with their emotions)

despite appearing asocial on the surface, they're kind people

would severely struggle with moving on after losing sabito/mizi (sua couldn't even picture life without mizi. giyuu moved on solely because of his promise to sabito which is fucked up if you think about it long enough)

sabito → sua

purple eyes + names start with s (this makes no sense)

sacrificed themselves

a bit aggressive (sabito isn't unnecessarily mean tho)

would also do anything to keep giyuu/mizi alive

giyuu → mizi

mizi crying at the end of MIZISUA (the video) following sua's death really reminded me of giyuu crying over sabito after the selection

watched their loved ones sacrifice their lives for them

empathetic and open minded

sabito → mizi

strong sense of justice/morals

incredibly kind and open minded

treat people fairly (unlike giyuu/sua, they don't treat people based on how much they like them. sabito won't hesitate to scold giyuu if he did something wrong just like he does with everyone else and mizi always treats everyone with kindness (unless it's luka)

even though it would be difficult for them in the beginning, they eventually learn to move on (sabito seems to have moved on unlike giyuu and mizi is learning to continue with her life as seen in all in)

would die for giyuu/sua (mizi wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice herself for sua if she knew the truth about alnst and sabito is self explanatory)

super cool pink hair that stands out

their kindness/ innocence made giyuu and sua find value in living

conclusion: sua is giyuu and mizi is sabito. this should have been obvious from the beginning but I wasn't very sure about this.

if you have any other points, please add them because I'm becoming way too invested in this. in my au, I want giyuu to die instead of sabito because I don't want sabito dead in every universe ☹️

edit: I changed my mind. I want giyuu to watch sabito die.

edit 2: this was written before the new mizi comic