#– the way pieces have stuck with me. i’ve improved but not enough. never enough.

[eenochian]

i know it’s stupid for me to be doubting my writing skills rn, like i’m literally getting more attention on my fics now than ever, but i’m just so unconfident in everything i’ve written lol. i’m putting out things that i’m happy with, but there’s always that voice telling me it’s shit and that i should just stop – and, it feels selfish, being insecure despite the support. like i’m not appreciative enough and i’m just being an attention whore. now i’m just sitting here, staring at a blank draft for the past 5 hours. i have the idea, i have people asking for the chapter, and yet i’m paralyzed trying to write.

[bloobydabloob]

Your art is genuinely one of the most inspiring I’ve seen in ages. Immediately upon discovering your blog, I was mesmerized by your creativity bleeding into and staining each piece you’ve posted. Don’t know a lick of Homestuck, but it’s unnecessary to when your art tells me all I need to know without saying a single word. I can grasp why fans of the comic hold it so dear when you paint such a beautiful image of it. (figuratively, not referring to your actual paintings, LOL! Does this count as a pun?)

Sorry, this is just an unrelated doodle because I don’t have any relevant images to add.

I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to tell me this, thank you. I know it is just like a little act of kindness to you but nice messages mean a lot to me and I wish I could properly project how glad I am to have kind people supporting my art in *any* amount. I’m someone who gets very easily stressed out running accounts so talking to people is what makes it worth the hassle for me. I’m glad you like my art and that it inspires you and anyone else reading this who may feel similarly, I hope I don’t quit art and that I keep improving.

I also do very much recommend giving Homestuck a read if you’ve got the time. The fanbase is unfortunately something I don’t have much of a positive view on but even if it is just some internet comic, reading it growing up is definitely something I wouldn’t take ever back. It has some of the best character / world building of anything I’ve read thus far and it has always just stuck with me. I’ve never had a homestuck friend that moved on from it, which is something I rarely find. I think it appeals to everyone in a different way because of the writing and how vast it is / how many bases it covers. I’m sure that if you ever read it you would find your own connections within the comic. I know though that my drawings are less connected with the atmosphere of the comic itself and infinitely more attuned to my own interpretations and feelings towards the characters, but I also think there is already enough more fitting homestuck art for me to just draw whatever.

Anyways here is my cool new print I got for my wall from @/ReptileEnclosed’s InPrnt, and here are just some of the nice things people have said to me that stick in my mind. Every time someone says something I appreciate I screenshot it and add it to a folder called “Nice Words”.

[charmedreincarnation]

I’m kind of in a similar situation to your college indecisiveness post bc I want to shift but never have the time cuz all this studying. I’m really hating life rn. I’ve tried shifting a few times and managed to detach my awareness from this reality for a few minutes at a time, so i know what works for me, but I never have time to do it. I feel kind of drained that I could be achieving so much but I’m stuck not even having the time cuz I’m not smart enough to get done with all this HW fast enough

TLDR how do I be cool like you and too smart for school to be a big concern? Do I just say f**k it and do a shifting attempt when I’m supposed to be studying?

This was such a sweet ask 😭😭💖 I'm overwhelmed by the sweetness of your words, and I assure you, I'm far from being as cool as you think. In fact, I found myself facing the very same dilemma in the past! Now, I'm not sure if you're looking for some wisdom from Loa or valuable studying tips, so ill share a little bit of both? Also college-related questions/asks have been pouring in lately, so I've decided to address them all right here. I should probably just make it a post but I’ll use this ask as a reference.

Pre law perspective:

So my senior year, was when I really started my journey. It was during this time that I learned about shifting and manifesting (kind of law of attraction) so I naturally attempted everyday and had my focus to that. However, I basically spiraled into burnout and indifference towards school. Tbh It's still a mystery to me how I managed to do fine in school when I basically stopped attending classes mentally and barely did my work.

I've always had ADHD, anxiety, and procrastination issues throughout my high school years, But senior year took it to a whole new level. The boredom and disconnection from my studies were unbearable. I went through the motions, completing my homework, but for classes I didn't enjoy, I mindlessly attended without caring or understanding the material. It was a year filled with academic mediocrity, and certain subjects like AP Calculus and AP Biology, which I didn't even need for my future plans, were absolute torture.

And at the time I didn’t even fully understand what shifting was, But I clung to the notion that school no longer mattered in the grand scheme of things. Looking back, I realize it was a detrimental mentality to have for my well being. If there's one piece of advice I can offer, it's this - find a balance. Avoid burning yourself out completely, but don't neglect your mental well-being either. You are still here, whether you're shifting or not, whether you’re god or not, and whether you're actively manifesting or not. Diving deeper into a negative mental well will not benefit you in any way. Trust me, I learned this the hard way.

As my burnout intensified, I reached a point where I no longer wanted to be alive in this boring ass reality. It became so severe that I almost didn't apply to college. My entire focus was consumed by shifting, and I simply didn't care about anything else. It was my friends who came to my rescue, pushing me to apply and offering unwavering support. Without their guidance and nurturing, I honestly don't know where I would be today.

Eventually, I grew tired of being tired. I began diving into my subliminal journey, creating playlists that combined affirmations for school,success, and luck. I learned the importance of dividing my time wisely. During the second semester, I continued this approach, focusing on school-related practices during the day and dedicating my evenings to shifting attempts.

Affirmations and scripting became the root of my routine too. Miraculously, my grades improved, even when I skipped classes for an entire month or neglected to read the lectures.

I was able to graduate high school with honors, which in itself proves that success or whatever isn’t even just about being naturally "good at school." I worked smarter, not harder and knowing about manifesting really helped with that!

So I really advice you to find a balance in your journey. Don't pour all your energy into just school or just manifesting. Embrace the plethora of easy methods available - scripting, subliminals, binaural beats - and integrate them into your study routine. Make it work in your favor. Treat shifting like a cherished hobby, something that complements your academic pursuits rather than overshadowing them.

Also, set realistic standards for yourself. In high school, I used to obsess over achieving straight A's, disregarding any grade below perfection. Looking back, I realize how misplaced my priorities were. As long as you maintain a mix of A's, B's, and even a few C's, you'll be absolutely fine. Set a goal of achieving a GPA of 3.0 or whatever scale your institution uses, and celebrate every success along the way.

Loa perspective

Ok, now let's talk about the power of the Law of Assumption!

Now that I'm in a place where I give only about 20% of my time and effort to school and still do very well, I can help and reflect on my journey properly. Back in high school, like said I struggled with anxiety and ADHD, and I thought these challenges would hold me back.

Test-taking, deadlines, remembering information it all seemed overwhelming. But you know what helped me? Subliminals.

Listening to subliminals for intelligence and confidence made a significant difference in my life. They boosted my abilities and gave me the belief that I could excel academically. And that belief was everything.

As you probably know the Law of Assumption states that whatever we expect and assume to be true will become our reality. So, I decided to apply this principle to my studies. I assumed that I was capable of achieving great grades with ease. I assumed that school life would be manageable, and I would continuously improve my skills throughout the semester. I always visualized seeing As, revised my past grades, teacher giving me the grade I know I deserve no matter what.

And guess what? It worked! My mindset shifted towards greater productivity, and I started using my time more efficiently. As a result, my grades improved, and I had more time to focus on the things I genuinely enjoyed. It was a game-changer, and it accounted for about 70% of my success. Just imagine that - simply switching my mindset and accepting the positive results from my previous subliminal experiences.

I understand that college can be more stressful and demanding than high school. But it's still the same principle at play. You don't have to drastically change your study habits if you don't want to. Instead, use general resources during the day to aid your studying. And while you're at it, listen to subliminals that align with your goals. Instead of imagining and affirming to yourself that you're a failure and worrying about all the things that could go wrong, shift your focus. Imagine the grade you want, affirm and visualize that no matter what happens on your test, you'll still pass the class with flying colors. Remember, it's just one test, one assignment, and there are so many more opportunities ahead.

General school tips

* Stop checking your grades every day. Seriously, it's only stressing you out. Grades can fluctuate randomly, especially in college (and honestly, even in high school). Instead of obsessing over the numbers, focus on staying on top of your assignments. Keep up with your work, put in your best effort, and trust that alone will reflect in your grades.

* Say no to all-nighters. Trust me, reading the same material for 12 hours straight won't magically make you understand it. If something isn't clicking, it's probably an internal issue. There's no need to spend an entire night alone trying to grasp a single concept. Look for alternative resources like recap lessons on YouTube or seek help from a tutor or classmate. Remember, it's okay to acknowledge what doesn't come naturally to you and instead focus on your strengths.

* Realistically, doing your homework and attending class means you're probably not failing. Even if you're not getting the grade you want, it doesn't mean you're headed for failure. Those big tests that carry a significant weight in your grade may impact your GPA, but they don't define the trajectory of your life. Take a moment to reflect on all the times you thought a single grade would ruin everything, yet here you are, still alive and thriving. You've been through challenges before, and you're stronger than you think. Breathe, remind yourself that you're not alone in these thoughts and stresses, and keep pushing forward.

* Make friends and join class group chats. Trust me, these connections are gold. Joining group chats on platforms like GroupMe or Snapchat allows you to ask questions, collaborate on study guides, and realize that you're not alone in this journey. Even if they're not your closest friends, having a support system within your classes can make all the difference.

* Use EFT tapping for anxiety, especially before tests. Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT) tapping is not only useful for Law purposes, but it can also work wonders for managing anxiety. Check out my pinned guide on how to use EFT tapping. It has personally helped me immensely, and I hope it does the same for you.

* Work smarter, not harder. The truth is, those who seem to breeze through school while partying every night still manage to graduate and pass just like everyone else. The key is finding shortcuts, utilizing the vast resources available on the internet, and working smarter, not harder. Embrace technology, explore online study tools, and leverage the power of the internet as your greatest friend in this journey.

Here are some free recourses:

Math and Science

1. MathMagic Lite: This app lets you write any mathematical expressions and various scientific symbols easily

2. Equatio: A powerful equation editor that makes it easy to create digital, accessible maths

3. Microsoft Mathematics: Can be used to write mathematical expressions, solve equations, and plot graphs

4. Desmos Scientific Calculator & Graphing Calculator: Utility apps for students and teachers for calculations and graph plotting

5. WolframAlpha: A computational search engine that can solve a wide variety of problems, especially useful for math and science

Article/Video Summarization

6. Smmry: A website that summarizes articles for you

7. TLDR This: A browser extension for quick article summarization

8. Inshorts: An app providing news in 60 words or less

9. Listenable: Converts articles into short audio files

Note-Taking

10. Evernote: A note-taking app where you can jot down thoughts, save things you find online, and even scan physical documents with your phone's camera

11. Microsoft OneNote: Allows for free-form information gathering and multi-user collaboration

12. Notion: An all-in-one workspace where you can write, plan, collaborate, and get organized

Concept Explanation

13. Khan Academy: Offers practice exercises, instructional videos, and a personalized learning dashboard that empower learners to study at their own pace in and outside of the classroom

14. Coursera: Provides universal access to the world’s best education, partnering with top universities and organizations to offer courses online

15. Complexly: A YouTube channel that produces a variety of educational content, including the series Crash Course which covers many different subjects in depth

16. citation machine: you never have to make source citations by yourself. This gives your both in test and citations for your essays and research.

Lastly I’m gonna put all the free resources most colleges offer for free!

Academic Resources

* Online Study Platforms: Websites such as Khan Academy, Coursera, and edX offer free or low-cost courses on a variety of subjects that can supplement your coursework.

* Academic Advising Centers: Most colleges have an academic advising center where students can get guidance on course selection, degree requirements, and academic planning.

* Writing Centers: Writing centers provide assistance with writing assignments, including proofreading, editing, and helping with citations.

* Library Research Databases: Your college library likely subscribes to a number of research databases (like JSTOR, EBSCO, and ProQuest) that can provide access to academic journals, books, and other resources.

2. Career Resources

* Career Centers: These centers offer career counseling, resume reviews, interview preparation, and job search assistance.

* Internship and Co-op Programs: Many colleges have programs that help students find internships or co-op positions in their field of interest.

* LinkedIn Learning: This platform offers courses on a variety of career-related topics, including networking, resume writing, and job interviewing.

3. Mental Health and Wellness Resources

* Counseling Centers: Most colleges offer free or low-cost mental health services to students, including individual therapy, group sessions, and workshops.

* Fitness Centers: Regular exercise is important for both physical and mental health. Most colleges have fitness centers that offer a variety of workout options.

* Mindfulness and Meditation Apps: Apps like Headspace and Calm offer guided meditations that can help reduce stress and improve mental health.

4. Financial Aid Resources

* Financial Aid Office: Your college's financial aid office can provide information on scholarships, grants, work-study opportunities, and student loans.

* FAFSA: The Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) is the key to accessing federal financial aid, including grants, work-https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/712878654521262080/everything-eft-tapping?source=share funds, and loans.

* Scholarship Search Engines: Websites like Fastweb and Scholarships.com can help you find scholarships that you may be eligible for.

Other questions I got

Q: How did you manifest graduating early?

A: Graduating early was always a desire deep within me. I didn't realize it was on track to manifest until I had a meeting with my advisor. Interestingly, when I found out it was happening, I wasn't as ecstatic as I thought I would be. It made me realize that desires can change as we grow and evolve. So, if something you once desired doesn't bring you the same joy anymore, it's perfectly okay. Life is all about evolving and embracing new desires.

Q: What affirmations do you use?

A: Since I had a multitude of desires in various aspects of my life, I found it tiring to have a separate affirmation for each one. So, I opted for general affirmations that encompassed all areas of my life. For example, I would affirm statements like "I am the luckiest person alive," "Everything works out my way," and "I always get my desires." These affirmations can be applied to all aspects of life, including school. The key is to find affirmations that resonate with you and create a positive mindset.

Q: How do you manage the law/shifting and school?

A: As I mentioned earlier, integration is the key! You don't have to view manifestation or shifting as something separate from your school life. Instead, incorporate these practices seamlessly into your daily routine. The goal is to make it a part of your lifestyle without feeling like it's an extra burden or sacrifice. For example, if a certain method, like wbtb lucid dreaming, is disrupting your sleep schedule, consider switching to other methods like subliminals or reality checks. You can still set intentions before going to bed, which will be effective without compromising your sleep. Find what works best for you and strike a balance between school, manifestation, and your mental health

Q: What to do if affirmations don’t work:

A:maybe you don’t think with words. I’m more of a visual person and will always believe and like images more than words. I would just imagine my grades always being an A. No matter what, no matter if I failed a test or forgot to submit a homework even if I failed everything I still got an A! If you don’t like to visualize then change your wording to how you naturally speak. Maybe you don’t even like affirmations, it’s really different for everyone.

Q:I don’t want to go to this college but I still have to apply, is that affecting living in the end:

A: nope I don’t think taking action or not taking action affects anything If you’re living in the end. Just because you apply doesn’t mean you’ll get in simply because you took the action. Do what you have to do it doesn’t matter if you’re living your 3D life but know imagination is your true reality. If you’re a billionaire and sleep in a homeless shelter that doesn’t take away from the fact you’re a billionaire. Who knows why you’re at a homeless shelter and who knows why you’re applying for college. It doesn’t dictate anything.

Q:I needed to get into the void before college but now I’m here without my dream life and I hate it. What do I do:

A: well it’s happened so take a deep breath. You can still master the void, in fact you already have you’re just being silly and want a funny humbling story. There is no better time than now to be delulu. When you’re trying to escape something and it passes accept it and make it your bitch tbh. honestly keeping busy definitely helped me in my journey anyways, but I did provide tips above so you have free time because you shouldn’t just be immersed in school. For example when I was poor, it was because I needed a humbling back story because no one likes people born into wealth. I’m assuming you still want to be in college, and yea, it’s just cool to have started from the bottom before you become that It girl. That’s your choice and your truth but now you’re done with being humble so go tap into the void.

Q: what’s your perspective on manifesting a perfect life. like nothing bad ever happens but also having a good life with just minor challenges (nothing too big) and I don’t wanna normalize suffering bc who wants to suffer?

A: ok this had a school ask but that was just the gist of it. anyways not that my opinion matters first and foremost. But I think that’s great. Who wants to suffer… exactly. You know I like being human, but I did not like my human experience before Loa. I do like challenges, I like growth, I like not being perfect, and I like being happy and getting what I want too! you can still have all those human aspects and manifest everything you desire. Mary Sues do don’t exist because humanity exists. Don’t worry about it. Your life won’t feel stagnant or unreal or something, I promise

Ok sorry this came out longer than I expected but I had a lot to say. I hope that answers all the asks I’ve been getting ! You all got this, college, your manifesting journey, your anxiety, all of it. All of your dreams & desires are within your reach (right in front of you !!!) so go for it and still live your best life <3!

[hispipsqueak]

Training Camp

Tsukishima x F!Reader - fluff

TW: college au, drinking mention, mild cursing, jealousy, pretty fluffy. There is one mention of reader having long hair.

A/N: wake up besties, Pip posted. I’ve been writing this off and on for like months just as a comfort fluff piece but I decided to finaly share it after some sweet feedback. I hope you like it. It’s v self-indulgent bc i am a SIMP. 

Everyone is 18+

Hinata was yelling.

Tsukishima rubbed his temple. It was 6 AM and the team was on their way to an intercollegiate training camp. He was not excited. The cold bus was a stark contrast to the soft warm bed he left too early this morning.

The training camp was going to gather a few different schools so he was going to see his friends, Bokuto and Kuroo. He was hoping to work on a few more blocks with them, to improve his playing. However, having to deal with HInata and Nishinoya on the bus was testing his patience.

"Screaming isn't going to make you any taller, idiot." He hissed at Hinata. Hinata made a face and was about to shout back until he was interrupted by Ukai.

"We are pulling into the camp. I expect you guys to be on your best behavior as you're representing Karasuno University." He parked the bus and the guys started loading out their bags. Everyone was buzzing, excited to see their friends and test out new skills. Tsukishima pulled his headphones around his ears and started moving his bags to the team dorms.

"OI TSUKKI!" A boisterous voice shouted from behind him. He was immediately enveloped in a hug that lifted his tall frame off the ground.

"Bokuto...it's like 7 AM." Akaashi muttered, wiping sleep from his eyes. He nodded at Tsukishima who was grateful toward the dark-haired man for getting the giant owl to let him go.

"Tsukishima! Aren't you glad to see us?" Another cocky voice came from the corner. Kuroo sauntered in before clapping him on the shoulder. Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

"I feel like I see enough of you two, especially since you added me to a groupchat that you won't let me leave."

"To be fair, they won't let us leave either." Kenma muttered from behind his Switch. Akaashi chuckled in agreement.

"Anyway, Karasuno better be prepared because the practice matches are gonna go HARD!" Kuroo said laughing. Kenma rolled his eyes and they headed back to the Nekoma dorms. Bokuto's laugh echoed in the hallway and Tsukishima was just grateful the actual practice wasn't starting for another two hours so he could nap.

"Welcome all to the intercollegiate training camp for 2020! We are glad to have you all here!" The man running the camp said. He was an older athletic coach and was going to assist with match setup and drills, though individual matches and team practices would be run by each respective coach.

"Sorry I'm late, I got stuck in traffic!" You said running into the gym, tossing your bag on the nearest bench.

"Ah! Glad to see you –" The older coach started before the yelling commenced.

"Y/N!!!" Bokuto shouted, running and spinning you around. Kuroo ran up as well and gave you a tight squeeze.

"GUYS STOP HOGGING HER!" Noya shouted before running up to squeeze a hug in as well.

It seemed all the older boys knew who you were, though Tsukishima had never seen you before. A few other guys shouted greetings and waved, from each team. You smiled and Tsukishima felt his body grow tingly. He rolled his neck and focused on the older coach, who began speaking again.

"As many of you know, this is Y/N. She's our resident medic and will be taking care of anything you guys need. Y/N, a few words?"

You grinned. "Hello guys! I'm glad to be back here. As Coach Sato said, I am Y/N, your medic. Please meet with me before you leave today to get my contact info in case anything occurs after hours and you need assistance. I'm in the Medic dorm, so feel free to come see me whenever!"

You bowed slightly and waved before turning back to the older man.

Tsukishima wasn't sure why he felt restless all of a sudden but he pushed it out of his mind as the coach discussed the agenda for the day.

----

Day one was grueling. The drills were tough and since everyone had vastly improved, everyone had to work harder to top each other. Tsukishima saw you a couple of times, discussing things with Coach Ukai and Coach Sato. You were always smiling, and it seemed everyone was drawn to you. You complimented Daichi on his receives, laughed with Tanaka and Noya, and even got Kageyama to crack a smile. You were walking towards where Tsukishima stood when a guy from another team skidded across the floor, 

You jogged over to pull him up and check him over. Tsukishima couldn’t help but feel a pang of something...wash over him. Why was he so...aware of everything you did? You were just some girl whom he didn’t even know. Yet, like everyone else at the camp, he was drawn to you for some reason. He had to snap out of it. He put all his effort into playing for the rest of the session and even Daichi complimented his newfound energy.

They were wrapping up for the day and Tsukishima headed to the bench to grab some water when he felt a soft voice calling his name. He turned around and you grinned at him.

“You’re...Tsukishima Kei right? I’m Y/N! Sorry to bug you, I just wanted to give you my number.”

Tsukishima gulped, swallowing too much water. His face reddened as he tried not to spit up water all over you. You laughed, the sound pouring over his heart like warm honey, and patted him on the shoulder.

“Sorry! That sounded weird. It’s just in case something happens I can rush over if you need medical assistance. Sometimes you’ll get hurt in practice and walk it off only for the pain to worsen late at night or something. So don’t be afraid to text me any time of day, if needed.”

He nodded and handed you his phone. You input your number and smiled before heading over to speak with the coaches again. He looked at his phone.

Y/N 🚑 😉

Fuck.

----

“Tsukki!” Bokuto’s booming voice echoed across the hall. Tsukishima looked up from his book.

“Kuroo, Akaashi, Kenma, and I are gonna work on some blocks later. You should join us!” 

Tsukishima looked back down at his book. He was exhausted and about to tell Bokuto no until Kuroo walked into the room.

“Bo, I reserved the back gym and Y/N agreed to stay with us for practice tonight.” He said, tossing a volleyball in the air. “Tsukishima, you joining? Or are you too tired? I know you crows are weak.”

“Shut up, stupid cat. I’m fine and I need to practice some blocking anyway.” Tsukishima said a little too quickly.

Kuroo cocked an eyebrow. “You...you of all people are agreeing to extra practice? We have to drag you to spend time with us and now you are so...eager? Interesting…”

Kenma, who was behind him smashing buttons on his Switch, smirked without looking up from his screen.

“Probably because of Y/N.”

Kuroo let out his classic hyena cackle, eyes wide.

“NO! You have a thing for Y/N?” He asked incredulously.

Bokuto’s jaw dropped. “TSUKKI YOU LOVE Y/N?!”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, trying to hide the blush creeping up his ears. 

“No I don’t LOVE Y/N. I don’t even know her.” Tsukishima said, trying to remain casual.

“You wouldn’t stop staring at her the entire day. Every time she was on your side of the court, you slammed on the ball like some final boss. Also, you choked on your water when she talked to you.” Kenma said, still engrossed in his game.

Tsukishima glared at him. Kenma ignored him, unfazed. 

Kuroo grinned wickedly.

“So, we have a new plan. Get Tsukishima to confess to Y/N.”

Bokuto clapped. ‘YEAH! Tsukki, you gotta tell her how you feel.”

Tsukishima turned back to his book. “I don’t FEEL anything. I don’t even know her. I’ll see you guys tonight. To practice, not for some ridiculous love story.”

Kuroo and Bokuto shared a conspiratorial look.

Operation: Tsukki and Y/N was a go.

----

“Y/N! Fancy to see you here!” Bokuto said grinning mischievously. You furrowed your brow.

“Did Kuroo not tell you I was going to join you guys tonight?” You turned toward the raven-haired boy, who glared at Bokuto.

“Yes, Bokuto just doesn’t listen. Anyway, we are just waiting for one more...there you are!” Kuroo threw a megawatt smile to someone behind you. You spun around to come face to chest with Tsukishima. His gaze narrowed as he looked down at you. You gave a small smile and cautiously stepped back.

“Oh! Tsukishima. I didn’t realize you’d be joining! Great, because I don’t know if I can handle these four by themselves.” You smiled, gesturing to Kuroo, Kenma, Bokuto, and Akaashi. 

Kuroo tossed a volleyball up in the air. “Now that we are all here, let’s practice.” You took this as your cue, to head to the sidelines and finish up work for the day. Once you were safely out of earshot, Kuroo leaned in towards Tsukishima.

“‘This is your chance. Show her how good you play. We’ll even go easy on you!”

Tsukishima shook his head.

“I’m not here for some girl. I’m here to get better and improve. Play me to win or don’t play.” His honey-tinted eyes held a fire behind them that Kuroo had never seen before. He shrugged and the boys split up on either side of the net to start practicing.

You watched them from the sidelines, while filling out your reports for the day. You knew most of the guys from previous training camps. Tsukishima, being a first year, hadn’t met you until today and you didn’t get a whole lot of time to interact with him throughout practice so you could tell he still hadn’t warmed up to you just yet.

You watched as the guys jumped, and methodically blocked the ball from scoring on their respective sides. It was amazing to see really, especially because you knew these guys outside of the court. Akaashi, who was one of the sweetest people you knew, was slamming the ball over the net like a man in war. Bokuto, who normally was all over the place, was hyper focused on preventing the ball from passing the wall of him and Tsukishima. Even Kenma, who normally showed very little passion outwardly, did an impressive dig to stop the ball from hitting the floor.

You tried to gauge some sort of personality from Tsukishima. He was methodical, calculating every move from each member and putting himself in a way that forced his opponents to do what he wanted. His demeanor changed from apathetic to focused and driven and for a first year, he had a lot of skill. You hadn’t had a chance to really gauge who he was outside of a first impression so you made a mental note to focus more on him in the coming week.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you away from the practice.

Yūji : hey bbygirll ;P

You rolled your eyes. Terushima was always overly flirtatious, though harmless.

Y/N: Hey Yuuji, what’s up?

Yūji : throwing a party ths wknd N u better goooo ;)

Y/N: mmm...maybe. Who’s all going to be there?

Yūji : literally evry1. Tendou n Ushiwaka, Oikawa  (🤢) and those guys from Seijoh, some guys from inarizaki, maybe some from ur training camp thing, and YOU

Y/N: FINE. But I might bring backup since last time I had to take care of your drunk ass.

Yūji : :D can’t wait to see you

“Y/N!” 

You looked up. The guys had finished their practice and were staring at you. 

“Sorry, Terushima was talking about some party this weekend. You guys going?”

Kuroo nodded, “Thought about dragging Kenma to it. You going?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll go if you guys go, because I don’t wanna have to deal with that mess alone again.”

Bokuto laughed. “We should go together then. It will be a good way to end this week.”

He looked at Tsukishima. 

“You have to go with us Tsukki!”

Tsukishima shook his head. “No way. A party with loud, obnoxious drunk people? I’m fine, thanks.”

You giggled. 

“Come on Tsukishima! It’ll be nice to blow off steam from this week, plus I’d kill to see you at a party.”

Tsukishima looked over at you, his expression unreadable.

“Fine.” 

-----

The rest of the week was tough but fun. You got to see all the boys improve, and you even managed to get Tsukishima to crack a smile a few times. You couldn’t deny that you were showing a slight favoritism toward the tall blonde. You told yourself it was because he was so difficult to reach, but you couldn’t help but seek him out in each practice.

Turns out you didn’t have to look far today.

“Medic!” Coach Ukai shouted. You looked up from your clipboard and saw a group of boys crowded in the Karasuno area. You jogged over there and the boys cleared.

Tsukishima was standing in the center of the circle, clutching his hand. You could see it was red, swollen, and bleeding. You pulled on gloves, and started inspecting it, gently squeezing and prodding to see where the pain was at.

You pushed on his knuckle and he let out a low groan. 

“Ouch. It looks like you may have dislocated this. Come with me back to the medic bay, and I’ll patch you up.” You led him by the elbow to your office. He remained silent but you could hear his breathing had become heavy.

You motioned for him to sit in the chair as you started pulling out different creams and aids to ease the bleeding first. 

He hissed as you applied pressure to his finger.

“Sorry, Tsukishima. It’s just to stop the bleeding so we can start working on your knuckle. This is going to sting okay? So keep your eyes on mine.”

Your voice was soothing and he felt his heart slow down as you started pulling out some sort of tonic. You looked up at him and he tried to focus on anything else but the blush creeping on his face. You smiled at him and then…

“FUCK!”

The tonic you sneakily applied on his wound BURNED. You held his hand firmly, while avoiding the injured area.

“Don’t move too much or you could hurt yourself worse.” You said while wrapping a small bandage around his finger.

Your hands felt so delicate in his. He almost forgave you for the stinging. Almost.

“Okay, let’s look at the swelling. Can you move it at all?”

He tried and his finger gave a pathetic twitch.

“Okay, so that’s not broken. I think we’ll just splint it up, but you may want to follow up with your doctor if it becomes more of an issue after a couple of days.”

“Can I still play?” He asked. 

“Definitely not today, but you should be good to go by next week. Unfortunately, you’ll be out for the rest of this week.” You gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

He exhaled slowly and nodded, though you could tell he was disappointed, which surprised you a little. You busied yourself putting away your tools and pulling out the wraps. “So you really like volleyball huh? Wait…sorry, of course you do. Just…I didn’t peg you for being so passionate.” Face burning, you turned around digging in a cabinet.

“I’m not like Bokuto or Hinata, if that’s what you mean.” His voice was quiet and you snuck a glance back at him. He was staring at his finger. You waited for him to continue but he stayed silent.

Grabbing the supplies you needed you sat in front of him and pulled your tray next to you. “Yeah those two can be a little…enthusiastic.” You laughed and reached for his hand. He hesitated a moment and you grinned. “No more tonics, I promise.”

His hand dwarfed yours and he felt his mouth go dry as you delicately ran bandages over the injury. Why did he suddenly become hyper aware of how close your knee was to his? He looked away, blood rushing in his ears. He suddenly realized it had gotten silent and you were looking at him. Fuck. “Uh, sorry.”

You smiled, that smile that made his hands tingle with electricity. “I was just asking if you were excited about the party this weekend.” 

Fuck, The party.

“I know, it can be a lot. But I’m glad you’re going. I’m excited to see you in party mode.” You winked and he felt his heart stop for a second. “Anyway, you’re all done.” You let go of his hand and he tried to push away the emptiness it felt now. “I’ll let Coach Ukai know and I’ll see you this weekend.”

—-

“Hey Tsukki…how was your chat?” Kuroo sidled up to Tsukishima who was sipping water on the bench. Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Bokuto slid on the opposite side, sandwiching Tsukishima in the middle. “So did you tell Y/N you love her?” 

Tsukishima glared at him. "No. And I don't love her. She just bandaged my finger."

"Oooh romantic. You guys were in there for a while." Kuroo said, winking. Tsukishima forced himself not to look in your direction, instead focusing intently on his water bottle. 

A whistle blew and the guys headed to their respective teams. Tsukishima allowed his gaze to wander over to you. You were looking at your phone, a small smile on your face. You must have felt his gaze because you looked up, meeting his eyes. You shot him a small grin, before you were distracted by Lev tripping on a mat. 

Tsukishima looked back down at the bandage wrapped neatly around his finger.

"Fuck."

—-

"Okay boys. We gotta make sure Tsukki looks good." Kuroo declared, dragging Kenma, Bokuto, and Akaashi behind him. 

Tsukishima looked up from his book. "What are you talking about?"

"The party tonight. You have to dress to impress. You want Y/N to fall for you, don't you?" Bokuto said, rummaging through the closet. Kuroo looked Tsukishima up and down. "Is that what you're wearing?"

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "Yes. I don't need fashion advice from a rooster and an owl, thanks." He didn't mention that he had gone through three different shirts before settling on the current one he was wearing.

"He looks fine. We better get going anyway." Akaashi said, looking at his phone. Kuroo looked at Tsukishima smugly.

"Don't worry. She's meeting us there. So we can pep talk you on the way."

Tsukishima grabbed his jacket. "You are delusional. There's nothing between us." He turned away, trying to ignore the buzzing in his stomach. The guys headed to Bokuto's car, piling in as Bokuto drove to the party. 

—-

Bass boomed from the house and people were strewn everywhere. Tsukishima saw a few people he recognized as he walked in. Oikawa and his cronies laughing in the corner, the Miya twins dominating the beer pong table. Kuroo led them to Terushima, who was doing a shot of an amber liquid.

"Yo, where's Y/N?" Kuroo asked. Terushima made a face as the liquid went down, before pointing to the staircase. Tsukishima turned.

You looked incredible. Your hair was down from its usual ponytail, and it spilled down your back in long waves. You wore a tight shirt and jeans that hugged all of your curves and had that gorgeous smile on your face. You were standing next to Ushijima, listening intently to him discuss something before you nodded, replying back with something that made the large man smile. 

"Oi Y/N!!" Bokuto yelled, and you turned, blinking at the interruption. You excused yourself from Ushijima and walked to where the guys were standing. 

"Hey guys! Glad you finally made it-" You started before Osamu Miya tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and he gave you a tight hug. "Hey come be my partner for this. `Tsumu got Suna and he's scary good." You nodded before waving a quick goodbye to the guys and followed Osamu to the beer pong table. 

"Don't worry Tsukki, she's just really popular. We need drinks." Bokuto said, dragging Tsukishima to the cooler in the kitchen. Tsukishima narrowed his eyes. "I'm not worried. I didn't come here for some girl."

Bokuto fished two beers out of the cooler, handing Tsukishima one. "Exactly. Play it cool. Girls love that." 

A cheer came from the beer pong table and Tsukishima glimpsed Osamu carrying you in a celebratory hug. 

"Tch."

Kuroo sidled up next to him. "Miya's been desperate forever. She won't give him a chance. In other news, Oikawa brought his fan club with him." He rolled his eyes, gesturing to the gaggle of girls that were whispering next to the pack of Seijoh boys. They were all young, way too young to be at this college party and definitely overdressed. Oikawa and his crew barely gave them a second look, choosing instead to laugh amongst themselves.

The tall one, Mattsukawa, Tsukishima thought his name was, turned to Oikawa and whispered something before stalking toward the table.

As Tsukishima watched, he headed toward you. He saw a glimpse pass between Osamu and him before Matsukawa approached you. You listened, before nodding and laughing, turning to say something to Osamu and walking back to Oikawa's group. Oikawa's fans shot daggers at you, as you hugged Oikawa and talked animatedly with the group. Tsukishima frowned into his drink. You were friendly with everybody. He didn't know why he had let Kuroo get into his head.

The room felt hot and he slipped out the back door. The cool night air was refreshing on his skin. The house was near a dock, which was probably not the safest for drunk people, but it was quiet. Tsukishima walked along the wooden planks, the party sounds dying down as he moved further away.

The moon was bright, reflected on the water. He remembered an old story his mom used to tell him, something about a kingdom on the moon. He sipped his drink. 

"There you are."

He turned around. You walked towards him and sat next to him at the edge of the dock. He became very aware of how alone you both were out here.

"I was looking for you. Guess parties aren't really your thing, huh?" You laughed, pulling a bottle of water out and taking a sip.

He shook his head. "People aren't really my thing." He cringed internally. Why did he sound so pretentious?

"I definitely understand that." You nodded, looking out towards the water.

He blinked. "You seem pretty popular." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt his ears burn. Now you would think he was some crazy stalker, watching your every move. 

Surprisingly, you didn't seem fazed.

"I know a lot of people. It comes with the territory. But, sometimes I feel like…I don't know. None of them really know me? Ugh that sounds cliche, I know." You groaned. 

He laughed, in spite of himself. "That does sound cliche." 

You laughed. "Tsukishima! You're supposed to pretend I said something profound, not agree with me!"

Tsukishima shrugged, biting back a smile. He liked the way his name sounded on your tongue. You said it almost like a song, Tsukishima. 

You scooted closer to him on the dock. "But cliches are cliches for a reason, right? There's some truth to them, I think." Your arms wrapped tightly around yourself and you shivered. 

Tsukishima unzipped his jacket and draped it over you. "Here. Aren't medics supposed to be prepared for anything?"

You smiled, grateful for the warmth. "Well yeah, but then we can't steal jackets from grumpy volleyball players." You teased.

You were inches apart now. Tsukishima could see the glitter in your lip gloss, reflecting the moonlight. Your lips looked really soft. He felt his face burn and turned away, grateful for the darkness. 

The wind blew a heavy breeze and he shivered in spite of himself. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around him. 

His pulse raced. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears and smell the sweet perfume you wore as it enveloped him. He froze and felt you shrink back.

"Sorry! I thought, since I stole your jacket I…uh…" You stammered and a buzzing noise came from your pocket. You fumbled with your phone and answered it. 

"Yeah. What?! No. No. So? Why did you- no please. Well can anyone else-? Uh-huh. But- I-..." You frowned as the line went dead. You looked upset, your brow furrowed and bit your lip. 

"Um, so that was Kuroo. Bokuto got drunk and threw up in the car and so he asked me to take you to the dorms since they don't have room. Um…yeah." You trailed off, fidgeting with the zipper on the jacket you wore. 

Tsukishima got the feeling you were not excited about spending time in a car with him. 

"I can just find a ride."

Your eyes widened. "No! I mean, I don't mind. We are going to the same place. Um, here's your jacket. I parked uh, pretty close so we can just head there right now." You hopped up, yanking his jacket off and handing it to him stiffly. He blinked and took it from your hands. You avoided his gaze and you led the way to your car. 

"Door is unlocked." You said and he opened the door. A waft of your perfume, that damned intoxicating scent, washed over him. He squeezed into the passenger seat and you fiddled with the radio, tuning to an old rock station before checking your mirrors and backing out.

Your hands drummed on the steering wheel as you drove, determined to not look at Tsukishima. He looked out the window, the tension in the car thick.

What happened to make you switch your mood so fast? You seemed jumpy, almost in fear of him and he was 1000% sure you would rather be anywhere else. 

You pulled into the parking lot of the dorms and stared straight ahead, your knuckles white. Tsukishima waited a moment before undoing his seatbelt.

"Er, thanks."

You nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

"Of course, no problem. Sleep well." He closed your door quietly so as to not disturb the dorms and slipped into his room.

You finally sighed, looking at your passenger seat where his dark jacket laid on the seat.

"Fuck."

—

Tsukishima quietly slipped through his door and flicked on the light.

"Hey hey hey how was it?!" Bokuto yelled and Akaashi shushed him. Tsukishima stumbled back.

"What the hell?"

Kuroo clapped him on the shoulder. "I told you, we got your back. So did you kiss her??" Even Kenma looked up from his game.

Tsukishima frowned. "No. What the hell? I thought you were drunk." He said, pointing at Bokuto.

Akaashi smiled. "Of course not. I wouldn't let him get drunk and drive." Bokuto nodded solemnly.

Kuroo shot his signature cat-like grin. “We told a tiny white lie. But more importantly, did you make a move?!”

The boys waited impatiently. Tsukishima sat down on his bed.

“No.”

Bokuto jumped up. “What?! Why Tsukki????” He cried out, Akaashi desperately trying to shush him.

Kuroo stared incredulously at Tsukishima. “What? Why not? You two looked cozy on the dock!” 

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes. “How did you see us at the dock?”

Kenma shrugged, turning back to his game. “It’s a Pokestop. I was trying to catch a Wartortle.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. He looked at his phone, scrolling past your contact info, the winking emoji taunting him from the small screen.

Kuroo sat down beside him. “What happened, bro?”

Tsukishima took a deep breath.

“Nothing. We talked on the dock and then she got really weird and distant and it was very clear she did not want to give me a ride, thanks for that by the way, and she drove us here and barely spoke to me. She didn’t even look at me when I left.”

Three pairs of eyes stared at him stunned. 

“Wait, what? She was VERY clearly into you based on the picture Kenma sent us.” Kuroo said, scrolling through his phone. “Look.”

He pulled up a picture of you and Tsukishima sitting very close on the dock. It was blurry and far away but he could make out the image of you in midlaugh. If he hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have believed that was the same girl who barely spoke two words the entire drive home.

“I don’t know! She just started stuttering and wouldn’t talk to me.” Tsukishima said, exasperated.

Bokuto looked close to tears. Akaashi hummed. “Well what happened before she started acting strange?”

Tsukishima thought back. “She was shivering because she was dumb and didn’t bring a jacket. I lent her mine and we were fine. And then she hugged me and when she pulled away she got distant.”

The room was silent. Then Kenma spoke up. “Did you hug her back?”

Kuroo laughed. “Of course he did Kenma, what kind of question is that?” He looked at Tsukishima and then frowned. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Even Bokuto looked aghast. “You didn’t hug her back? She gives great hugs, what the hell, Tsukki!”

Akaashi cleared his throat. “I think what they are trying to say is, that was a stupid move. She thinks you rejected her.”

Tsukishima frowned. “What?! I didn’t have time to react. She was hugging me and I just…I froze, okay? I don’t do well with that stuff. By the time I realized what was happening, she was already handing me my jacket.”

Bokuto facepalmed. Kuroo grabbed Tsukishima by the shoulders, shaking him. “YOU LET HER GIVE YOUR JACKET BACK?!” 

Akaashi groaned. “So now she thinks you rejected her and probably only gave her your jacket out of necessity.” 

Even Kenma looked annoyed. “Practice is going to be weird tomorrow.”

Kuroo looked over at Tsukishima and frowned. “Wait, where’s your jacket?”

Tsukishima looked down.

“Fuck.”

—--

Tsukishima woke up and stared at the ceiling. Coach Ukai pounded at his door. 

“Up and at ‘em! Just because you’re finger’s broken doesn’t mean you can stay in bed!”

He sighed, throwing on his practice gear. He stared at his phone, willing a text to come in from you. Or maybe you would just pretend he didn’t exist. That might be helpful too. He stared at the ground.

Ukai pounded at the door again and Tsukishima sighed.

When he got to the gym, he glanced at the area you usually worked, near the coaches. There was no sign of you. He re-tied his laces, fiddling with the knots. 

“She’s not here yet.” Kuroo muttered from behind him. Tsukishima looked up. “Weird, because she’s never late.” He looked pointedly at Tsukishima before he headed back to the Nekoma team and Tsukishima frowned. 

With each slam of the door, he expected to see you saunter in, laughing as you carried your clipboard. When Coach Sato blew his whistle, you still hadn’t arrived.

“Teams, we expect some good matches today. As you may have noticed, Y/N is not here today as she is under the weather. If you have any injuries, please reach out to Coach Itto here who will assist you for the day.”

A short man bowed to the teams and Coach Sato blew the whistle again. 

Tsukishima headed to the area where Karasuno was stretching. Nishinoya was talking to Tanaka.

“Sucks that Y/N is sick today. I was gonna show her my new receive.” He said and Tanaka nodded. 

“I heard there was some wild party last night. Maybe she’s hungover?” He guessed, laughing. Sugawara, who was stretching next to them, frowned. “I doubt it. She’s responsible and wouldn’t do something like that. I hope she feels better soon.” He noticed Tsukishima staring. “Tsukishima, aren’t you two friends? If you see her, tell her we hope she feels better.”

Tsukishima looked down, saved by Ukai’s whistle. 

—-

Your phone buzzed.

Bokuto: Hey Hey! Are you feeling okay?

You smiled at the screen, typing a message back before collapsing onto your pillow.

Y/N: I’m okay, just a little under the weather. How about you?

Bokuto: I’m doing great! I gotta go tho because Akaashi is staring at me. Bye!

You grinned. He was definitely cheery for a person so drunk he threw up in his own car the night before. You sank back into bed.

You knew it was a coward’s solution, avoiding Tsukishima by missing practice. But ugh, you felt like an idiot. You were sure he liked you, he gave you his jacket for crying out loud. But then when you stupidly made a move, he just…stared at you. You shivered thinking about his look when you let go of him. Ugh, he probably thought you were some lovestruck schoolgirl. 

You groaned, covering your face with your blanket. Peeking out from under the covers, you spotted his jacket on your desk. He had been so freaked out, he left it in your car. Now it taunted you as a reminder of how you threw yourself, literally, at him.

—- 

The last whistle blew in the gym and Tsukishima grabbed his water bottle as he turned to leave. He ran smack into Hinata.

“Oi Saltyshima! Watch where you are going!” The tangerine yelled at him, rubbing his head. Hinata carried a box in his other hand. 

“What’s that?” Tsukishima asked, gesturing to the box. Hinata smiled wide.

“We are going to take snacks to Y/N’s dorm so she feels better. You want to come with us?”

A few other boys perked up from their respective teams, including unfortunately, Bokuto and Kuroo. Kuroo sidled up next to Tsukishima.

“He would love to go, RIGHT TSUKISHIMA?” He turned, glaring at the blonde. Bokuto stood on the other side of him, boxing him in. Tsukishima sighed, taking the box from Hinata’s hand.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Hinata glared at him. “No way. You don’t get to take credit for these snacks!” 

Tsukishima stared down at him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Daichi came between them. “Tsukishima will tell her that they are from you. But we shouldn’t all go. It will overwhelm her.” He looked knowingly at Tsukishima. “I think Tsukishima should go alone.”

Tsukishima looked down at the box. He shrugged. 

“Fine.”

—-

The walk to your dorm was long. Tsukishima dreaded having to face you. You probably hated him, which he didn’t mind from other people, but didn’t want that from you. When he thought of your eyes scrunching up when you laughed, the way your hand felt over his…it made his stomach hurt. He finally could delay the trip no longer. He reached the medic dorm and knocked.

It was silent. He waited a moment before knocking again.

“Y/N?” he called. No answer.

He looked at the box in his hand. Should he just leave it here? Should he leave a note? He heard voices coming towards your dorm and turned around.

You were walking with Osamu Miya, that damned smile on your face. You laughed at something Osamu said before you noticed Tsukishima standing there.

“Tsukishima! Um, what are you doing here?” You looked at the box in his hand.

He shoved the box into your hands, not meeting your eyes.

“Hinata sent these for you and says he hopes you feel better.” He turned around, walking quickly back to his dorm, ignoring your calls of his name.

—

Tsukishima ignored his phone as it buzzed on his desk. He tried to focus on his book, where he had re-read the same line at least 5 times. His phone buzzed again and he glanced at the screen.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated that it wasn’t a text from you. On one hand, he wanted you to feel guilty. But on the other hand, what did you have to feel guilty for? You weren’t together. You could talk or date anyone you wanted, even Osamu Miya, though he didn’t know why you would choose him. The guy had grey hair and was just as annoying as his stupid brother.

A knock at his door broke him from his thoughts.

“Oi Tsukishima, open up!” It was Kuroo. 

He tried to ignore the door, focusing back on his book. He banged on the door again.

“Tsukki, I know you are in there and I will wait here all night.”

Tsukishima groaned, getting up to answer the door.

“What?”

Kuroo barged in, followed by Kenma, Bokuto, Akaashi, and surprisingly, Daichi. The guys stood in a weird semicircle around Tsukishima’s bed.

“Well, what happened?” Kuroo asked. Bokuto nodded, looking excited. “Did you finally apologize for being an idiot?”

Daichi nodded. “They filled me in. Please tell me you fixed this.”

Tsukishima sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Everything is fine. She was out and got there when I was about to leave and I gave her the stupid box.”

Akaashi looked at him. “What did you talk about?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “We didn’t. She was with Osamu Miya and they were coming back from somewhere so I just handed her the box and told her it was from Hinata.”

Daichi, Kuroo, and Bokuto groaned. Akaashi stared at him, disappointed. Kenma was focused on his game.

“Well, did you declare your love for her? Kiss her in front of him or something?” Bokuto asked and Tsukishima rolled his eyes. 

“No. Clearly she’s over whatever happened. The end. She’s with Osamu. Can we stop this stupid romantic comedy bullshit?” Tsukishima said, frustrated. 

Kuroo grabbed his shoulders. “Tsukishima! She would never choose Osamu. That guy has been chasing her for YEARS and she has never said yes. She missed practice today because you were a dummy who hurt her feelings. You need to go make this right!”

Daichi nodded solemnly. “Tsukishima, you don’t understand. There’s something big there between you two. Everyone can see it. The tension between you two is insane. Osamu probably called her at a time when she was vulnerable and hurt. You need to tell her how you feel.”

Tsukishima looked at the guys. Even Kenma was nodding along. Tsukishima groaned and sighed.

There was a knock at his door.

“Who is that?” Kuroo whispered. Tsukishima shrugged. “Probably Hinata to ask about the snacks.” He answered the door.

You stood there, shivering and wet, holding a plastic bag.

“Hey!”

Tsukishima closed the door.

“Was that her?” Daichi asked and Tsukishima nodded. 

“Open the door idiot!” Kuroo hissed. Akaashi pointed to the bathroom and the rest of the boys silently herded into the small room. Tsukishima swallowed hard and re-opened the door.

“Hi.”

You shivered again and he blinked. “Shit, sorry er, come in.”

You gave a small smile and stepped into the room. He grabbed a towel from the small closet and handed it to you.

“Um, here.”

Taking it, you nodded. “Thanks. Sorry it rained on me when I was walking here.” You quickly tried to dry your dripping hair. The room was silent except for the occasional droplets of water.

“Um, I uh, I brought your jacket.” You said, extending the bag to him. 

He looked at your outstretched arm and silently took the bag from you.

“Thanks.” He placed the bag on his desk. 

The two of you were silent again. Then you both began.

“About–”

“So–”

You laughed. “Um, you go ahead.”

He swallowed hard.  “I guess you are feeling better.”

Inside the bathroom, Kuroo facepalmed silently.

You nodded. “Uh, yeah. I was just feeling really uh, weird this morning.”

The room got quiet again and you concentrated very hard on the floor tiles. He spoke first.

“I’m really bad at this.”

You looked up. “Bad at what?”

He sighed and fiddled with his fingers.

“I’m not a person who talks about feelings. Or very good at reciprocating them…appropriately? I feel things, obviously, but–” he trailed off.

“I’m sorry I hugged you. I thought I was getting a vibe but then I saw how you reacted and it made me realize you do not like me like that. I shouldn’t have been presumptuous.” You said quickly. Your face was flushed.

He blinked.

“I do though.”

Your eyes met his. “What?”

He nodded. “Like you, I mean. In that way.” His face was reddening and you had the urge to kiss his cheeks.

You stared at him. “Wait what? But you–” 

He sighed. “I froze. I told you. I’m not good at expressing these things and it was overwhelming, a cute girl on top of me.”

You blushed, then frowned. “I was not ON TOP of you.”

He smirked. “Yeah, you kind of were.”

You pouted, and he had the strongest desire to kiss your lips. “Tsukishima, I was NOT on top of you!”

He cocked his head to the side. “Are you calling me a liar, Miss ‘called in sick to work today’?”

Your mouth fell open in mock offense. “Tsukishima Kei, you are a mean guy.”

He smirked, again. Stupidly handsome mean guy, you thought.

“JUST KISS ALREADY!” a voice from the bathroom startled the two of you. You turned to the noise and Tsukishima grabbed your face, surprising you with a kiss. Your eyes widened in shock before you melted into his embrace. His lips were soft and you felt fireworks exploding in the back of your brain as all the stupid drama floated away for this moment.

You didn’t even notice the trail of boys leaving the bathroom, Kuroo stopping to shoot a thumbs up at the two of you.

“God I love training camps.”

[bakersfield-row]

Am a Windows user, have never used anything but windows, am comfortable with windows.

Convince me to linux. Explain

I’m going to keep this short because I could make this infinitely long.

In a world where you really cannot trust big companies, windows has gotten very self conscious that they could track and sell every piece of data from their customer and add unnecessary features and no one would notice it, even though it actually makes the user experience worse. If you don’t have a key, you probably also have to over a hundred dollars just for some basic amenities, like changing a wallpaper.

Linux, in the other hand, is free and open source software (FOSS), which, in its simplest form, means that all the code is there for you to change and revise. Because of this openness, most Linux distros usually never have features to sell your data, and if they do, someone’s bound to make a patch to have that not happen. This means that Linux is much more safe and secure than windows by a long shot, and you really don’t have to worry about your information being sold to dubious companies.

Linux, with all its FOSS-ness, also allows anyone to make theirs distro look anyway you want. For instance, I personally prefer the look of MacOS to Windows (I know, probs controversial opinion). On windows, it’s be a pain in the ass to get it that way, especially without a key, while in Linux you can easily do that with relative ease, as long as you have a guide. Linux is just more freedom, something probably over said but still very true.

There’s other reasons why people would want to switch to Linux to. I didn’t really note that it’s less “bloated” than windows, which means that it has a lot less unnecessary features and thus will run way faster on any computer, especially old ones. Bloat has been kinda a controversial word in the community, since people like to argue that some distros are worse because they have more features. However, no matter what you choose, it’ll probably be better than windows.

The biggest drawback to Linux, in my opinion, is obviously app compatibility. I’ve mentioned gaming before, but that’s something that’s seedy vastly improved over the years. However, some popular apps are just incomparable with Linux, most notably the entire adobe suite and (unsurprisingly) Microsoft office. There’s a couple other things you can do to circumnavigate this.

You can try to find alternatives. GIMP works as a nice alternative to photoshop, Davinci Resolve has native Linux versions, and libreoffice is probably capable enough to replace word or PowerPoint.

You can try to install wine and pray to god it’ll work (though it probably won’t).

You can run a virtual machine and run windows with that, thought that’s not GPU accelerated and thus might be laggy.

OR, and this is the best option in my opinion, you can dual boot windows along side linux, so if you really need to use it, it’s there as an option. If you’re going to do this option, make sure to install windows first before Linux (because of some stupid thing where it erases it in grub or smtn) and that the two operating systems are on separate drives. Also try to debloat windows though guides on YouTube, but know that it won’t be as private as Linux.

Honestly, that’s as much as I have to say about the subject matter. Others are free to add on, since I probably missed a few things. You might not like it at first, but I do encourage you to at least try it. Hell, you might even like it so much that using windows is now alien to you (like me, lmfao).

Hope this helped, and remember, never type “sudo rm -rf /” in the terminal. (Aw fuck, I forgot to explain the terminal. Oh well, I hope someone can explain it to you, and if you get stuck on it there’s always guides online)

[hbyrde36]

Self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🖤

oh! so fun, thanks anon!

In no particular order because they are all precious to me:

Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter

Vampire Eddie Munson, Vampire Hunter Steve Harrington, P.I. Robin Buckley, bad-ass gun toting Nancy Wheeler, VAMPIRE DUSTIN!, Stripper Chrissy Cunningham, and so much more.

My ‘steddie as Anita and Jean-Claude from the Anita Blake novels’ fic. I fucking love this thing. It’s SO FUN. The book series it’s pulled from start out in the 90’s (yes I’m old and I read them when they were originally published🙈) and as much as I love the idea of Vampire Hunter Steve having a beeper, I decided to bring things up to present day (along with quite a few other changes to make it my own, and to fit the steddie vibe). It’s weird and a little challenging writing a fic intermingling two different pieces of media, but I love weaving in and combing elements of each universe's lore, while still maintaining the main beats of the story. If nothing else, read this one for the dream sequences!

2. Caught in the Undertow

Post season 4, Canon Divergent – Eddie lives and Vecna has been defeated.

AKA the sad Eddie fic, or, as i used to call it in my head, 'the passively suicidal Eddie fic'. This was my first foray into the ‘giving my own issues to my blorbos’ thing, although it still seems to be in character for them, I think. Don’t worry, I spread it out between both Eddie and Steve, so they’re both a little fucked up. I loved and hated writing every word of this fic. It was so hard sometimes and I made myself cry more than once, but it was incredibly cathartic. This is the fic I go back to and read parts of more than anything else I’ve written.

3. Times Like These

Time loop, Eddie POV

TLT was my first brain worm, my first ever fanfic, and the first thing I’d written period in a very long time. I had no idea what I was doing, but I was so intrigued by the idea and there weren’t many (any?) Eddie POV time loops on ao3 at that point so it was definitely a little bit of a “fine I’ll do it myself” moment. I was just so curious how it would play out if Eddie, the new guy who knew so little about the upside down, who got thrown into the mix and died all within a single week, were to be the one stuck in a loop. What would he think was happening to him? Would he trust the party enough to tell them? What would he do or change to try and fix things? I think I’ve improved quite a bit as a writer since I finished this, just through sheer practice, but I’m still so very proud of my first baby and think about it often.

4. Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Canon was just a crazy homebrew D&D game, sort of.

My second brain worm, this fic lived in my head for 8 months before I had written a single word of it. It all started with the idea that, 'what if all of the events from the show had just been a D&D game played by the boys in Mike’s basement?', and then I ran with it from there. It’s a work in progress and we have still have a ways to go (I’m not sure we’re even at the halfway point yet) but I love how it’s turning out. The response from readers, in comments on ao3 and tumblr, to this one has been very kind and encouraging. It makes it SO easy to work on knowing others love it as much as I do.

5. Thank God we didn’t peak in High School

Friends-with-Benefits to Lovers, Modern Au, life after high school au, no upside down

I wrote this series at the last minute for Steddie Week. Last minute, as in I didn’t even start until several days into the event. I’ve never put out so many words so fast. This fic is loosely based on my own marriage’s origin story, although our beginnings were even more dramatic than this (I felt like I had to tone it down to make it believable). This is the first project that made me realize how fun writing from prompts could be! It’s definitely not my best writing, but the story is fun and cute, a little dramatic and angsty, and as always the boys get their happy ending!

[giantroboticplatypusbutt218]

Oversight

This is Part 3 of the Magnetic Attraction series. 

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Content Warnings: Fantastic Racism, Internalized Homophobia, Suggestive Content, Mild Language, Canon-Typical Violence.

Summary: Rev receives some friendly advice from Tech after a mistake of his is brought to attention. Desperate to prove that he took Tech’s words to heart, he seeks the aid of his other friends to improve himself before the evening is over.

Unfortunately, he missed the most crucial piece of advice that Tech tried to convey.

Word Count: 27,277

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (Link to Chapter on Ao3)

~

Chapter 5

Word Count: 4941

~

With a building as large as the Loonatics’ HQ on Blanc, one might expect it to take a while to find a person who has the ability to traverse anywhere in the base in an instant. Slam, however, had a guess as to where Rev might have gone and followed his gut. 

Sure enough, as soon as he turned the corner into the hallway connecting their rooms, he saw a pajama-clad roadrunner dash out of his room and toss a mound of feminine clothes in front of Ace’s door, before dashing right back. 

Taking a breath, Slam made his way over. 

Meanwhile, Rev simply let himself fall face-first onto his bed, not minding the confetti of post-its it kicked up or the ones still stuck to the sheets. The paper-riddled pillow swallowed up Rev’s anxious whine and following weary moan. 

A deep knock sounded at the door, forcing a groan to follow all of Rev’s displeased noises. 

Within a second he was at the door, opening it to see the person he knew was there. 

“Hey Slam,” he sighed. “Look I don’t know why you followed me here but whatever reason it is I’m sure it’s pointless. Every single thing I’ve done today was a failure and Tech is probably going to be looking down on me for the rest of our lives. So maybe you should just go because there’s nothing you can do that’ll have a single chance of fixing my monumental landslide of screw-ups before Tech chews me out for everything.” 

Grunting, Slam pointed sharply down the hall, back in the direction Rev was running from. 

“Are you seriously trying to get me to go talk to him?! Why? So I can expedite my one-way ticket to losing my best friend? Absolutely not! I’m just gonna lock myself in my room for as long as I can pretending like everything’s fine until an emergency or the threat of starvation pulls me out.” 

As Rev began pacing at the side of his bed, Slam let himself in. He grimaced at how many sticky notes coated every inch of the room. 

“I mean, maybe if I’m quick about it I can channel the security feed onto my personal computer to monitor Tech’s position in the base so I can sneak around to grab food every once in a while. That would require some rewiring which I’m not very good at but maybe if I quickly do some research I can learn how to do it and complete the installation before any sort of unavoidable circumstances forces me to come into contact with him.” 

Slam picked up a sticky note, his face shifting into a grimace as he read it. 

“But who knows how long I’ll actually be able to avoid him? Surely he wouldn’t cut off our friendship in the middle of a mission, right? So if I can just put off any conversations while on missions and channel the camera feeds into my room I’ll never have to acknowledge that I’ve screwed everything up. Yeah. That’s a plan. Right?” 

Flicking the note off his finger, Slam stared at him flatly. 

“What?! It’s not like I have any better options!” 

In three smooth steps and a swift swipe, Rev was under Slam’s arm being carried like luggage. 

“Hey! Let me go! What are you doing?! I need to stay locked in my room otherwise none of my plans will-…” 

Now in the hallway, Rev saw Lexi’s door closing. Meanwhile, Ace strained as he bent over to grab the clothes at his doorstep. “Ugh, come on Duck,” he uttered to himself. “You know this is dry clean only.” After picking up the clothes with a pained grunt, he stepped inside. 

Rev didn’t dare look in the direction of Tech’s room, instead, he continued his attempt at flailing out of Slam’s grasp. 

Effortlessly, Slam turned and took a few more steps toward the hall’s entrance.

While his efforts were futile, Rev wouldn’t stop. 

That was, until he heard Tech’s confused voice. 

“Uh… hi, Slam? And… Rev?” 

Slam used his free hand to grab Rev’s shirt collar like the scruff of a cat and set him in front of Tech. Instead of immediately letting go, he reached for Tech’s wrist and pulled it towards Rev’s, letting go once Tech got the memo to hold on. 

He nodded with finality before heading to his room. 

Rev’s first instinct, of course, was to run away. He twitched with the urge, but Tech’s firm grasp on his wrist meant he’d just be pulling the person he wanted to run from along for the ride. 

“Well, it seems like he wants us to talk,” Tech said, watching Slam’s door close. 

“Haha… Yeah…” 

Returning his focus, he looked Rev up and down. “Wou-”

“Tech I’m really sorry! You were really scared when I was in danger and you were shaking and I’ve never actually seen you so scared and it was all my fault so I’m really really sorry about forcing you through all that when you didn’t deserve it and…” He looked away. “I’m sorry…” 

Taking a deep breath, Tech ran his free hand over his ears. “Can we speak somewhere else? Preferably somewhere more private?” Tech looked past him, pursing his lips. “How about your room?” 

Rev laughed nervously. “W-Why there? I mean we’re closer to your room so it’d probably be more convenient to…” The insistent look Tech was giving him forced his reply. “Okay…” 

With a nod, Tech led him to the next door over. His door. 

Sighing, Rev let him in. 

It was at that moment Rev truly realized the terrible state of his room. He couldn’t bear to see what Tech thought, so he just stared off into a colorful corner. 

“Oh…” Tech said. “This is… worse than my lab. Much worse…” 

“I wasn’t expecting you to ever come in here…” 

“Yeah. I could’ve guessed.” 

Rev heard Tech take a step toward him and quickly stepped further into his room, stopping beside his bed. “If I knew you’d be visiting I’d have cleaned it up,” he said. “But you know, when it’s just you, why clean your room right? It’s not like you need to impress yourself.” 

The sigh Rev heard cut right through his chest. 

“Look, I talked to Lexi and Ace. I know you’ve been trying to improve your confidence since we talked earlier.” 

He covered his face.

“It feels like what I said didn’t really get through to you.”

His throat tightened. 

“Rev, I told you to have some confidence in yourself because you were already on the right track. I specifically wanted you to relax, and from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing the exact opposite from the second our conversation ended.”

With a whine, Rev backed himself into his bed, stumbling onto it after which he quickly pulled his knees up and hugged them. 

“Sorry,” he meekly apologized. 

Tech sighed, bending down and picking a patch of sticky notes off of Rev’s bed until he could sit on it as well, more comfortably than Rev likely was.

“I also told you not to make things awkward, and hearing the lengths you went to in an effort to impress me after I told you to relax… is pretty unsettling.” 

“Oh…” Rev swallowed thickly, curling up a little tighter. “So everything I did… was pointless. I put myself through increasingly embarrassing and dangerous situations until you got involved and thought I got hurt…” 

“That’s a pretty negative way of looking at it, though, not entirely wrong…” 

Rev fell onto his side, letting out a shuddering breath. 

“I just wanted to prove that I cared about you and was listening to what you had to say, but obviously I wasn’t because if I just followed the incredibly easy advice you gave me, none of this would have happened…” 

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to prove anything, Rev. Just take a few more seconds to think about whatever advice I give you next time, okay?” 

He just turned onto his side, facing away from Tech. “Look, it’s late. Maybe-” His voice cracked, forcing him to clear his throat. “Maybe you should just go. I’ll probably just find another dumb way to hurt you again if you don’t.”

“It’s really not that big a deal.” 

“Just… Just go…” His voice came out forced. “I’ve been a pretty… awful friend today. Let alone a best friend or… anything else. You should just get some rest or something… take a break from… dealing with me…” 

“Seriously, it’s fine. I promise.” Tech waited a moment, but didn’t get a reply. “Rev?”

Silence followed, leaving Tech awkwardly sitting on Rev’s bed in his room plastered in sticky notes. 

Despite the uncomfortable atmosphere, he didn’t feel right just letting Rev stew in his own misery. He tried to think of some solution, looking around as though an answer would pop out at him among a sea of colorful paper. 

Actually…

Now that he was taking a moment, he noticed a few things weren’t covered. Rev’s PC monitor, of course, discounting the few notes stuck to the sides. Obviously the electrical outlets. And… the pictures on the walls and shelves. 

Tech focused on them, noting that some of the pictures had post-its on them… but they never covered the areas where Rev’s friends and family were. Rev himself was covered in them, though, leaving Tech to wonder if he should be concerned about that. Then, on Rev’s nightstand, he noticed a picture he was very familiar with. 

It was just him and Rev, standing side by side in front of a simulated podium and crowd, celebrating their joint effort in rebuilding the Virtual Trainer in Blanc HQ. Of course, right after the picture, Rev just had to make a joke about all the VR games he’d play in it. Normally, Tech would have gone on a big rant about it not being a toy and how misusing it was disrespectful and yadda yadda… but he didn’t. Rev had obviously made the joke to provoke him, as by that point, they’d gotten in the habit of arguing just for the thrill of it… but Tech just couldn’t muster the energy to even fake being mad at him. With how much help Rev had given on the project, cutting the time to completion in half, Tech was too happy to refuse any use Rev could think up for it. And the look Rev gave him when he replied to his joke with ‘have fun’, that surprise and excitement… it left him with a feeling that would only continue to bloom from then on. 

Warmth filled Tech as he recalled the memory, an experience he felt often thanks to a copy of the photo he had hanging above his work computer. Then, that warmth died out and curled dully in his gut, as Tech looked again at the photo and saw that Rev was covered in two sticky notes. 

It didn’t sit right with him to see such an important photo, at least to him, tainted like that. 

Tech got up from the bed, hearing the faintest shuttering gasp from his friend as he stood. There was no doubt Rev would brush off his concern, so Tech elected to continue toward the nightstand. He leaned down to better read whatever thing Rev thought was important enough to not only take note of, but cover such a wonderful moment with. 

‘For some reason, he doesn’t hate you,’ the first line said, a scribbled arrow pointing toward Tech in the picture beside it. ‘Don’t do anything that could make him change his mind.’

With concern growing, Tech continued onto the second note.

‘He gave you a second chance. Don’t waste it. Don’t screw up again.’

A twinge of unease hit Tech as he read the final, repeatedly underlined command. 

‘Don’t be a failure.’

Without a second thought, he plucked the two notes off of the picture. Looking over them again just left him with the same emotions, so he stepped over and sat on the bed. 

“Rev,” he spoke softly. “What are these?” 

Thankfully, Rev actually pulled up his head to look at whatever Tech had asked him about. Upon seeing what he had, however, he let out a gasp and rushed to snatch them away. 

Tech, of course, made sure that didn’t happen. 

Given that Rev couldn’t reach the notes without leaning over Tech or getting up from the bed, he simply whined and sat into a defeated slouch. 

“You weren’t supposed to see those…” Rev mumbled.

“I wasn’t supposed to see your entire room.” 

“…You really weren’t supposed to see those…”

Tech sighed. “Why did you write them?” 

Folding his arms, Rev turned away. “Just a reminder… to not ruin our friendship.” 

“You’re not going to ruin our friendship, Rev. Not by accident, at least. I’ve already told you that I can handle you making a few mistakes.”

Rev didn’t respond. 

“Speaking of mistakes,” Tech said, “earlier I told you to treat any accidental minor offense you cause me like any other mistake, and well…” He rubbed his neck. “Maybe that was a mistake on my part. Though, I don’t think I can be blamed for lacking the foresight on that one.” 

The strange admission caught Rev’s attention, making him glance at Tech briefly before averting his gaze and going quiet again. 

“As it turns out, you don’t really handle any mistakes very well. At least, not the ones you made today while taking advice from Lexi and Ace.” 

“I… I usually know enough before trying things that I don’t make any mistakes…” 

“And I’m guessing that this,” Tech gestured vaguely to the room, “isn’t a one-off thing you’ve done just for me.” 

“To this… extent… no. But… yeah. I usually keep it all on my PC… but when I really need to memorize things… this is how I do it…” 

“Hm.” Tech glanced down at the notes. “Look, I’m not an expert or anything, but this just… doesn’t seem right.”

Rev flinched, huddling into himself. 

“Clearly, you really don’t like to let people down, and that’s normal. But, freaking out over small mistakes, researching for days in an attempt to avoid them… it doesn’t take a genius to know that’s not healthy.” Looking around, his eyes landed on more photos, some showing Rev’s friends. His family. 

His father. 

The memory of Rev groveling at his feet, pleading for help in impressing Ralph Runner, flashed in his head. “A year ago, we weren’t all that close to each other. We’d break out into fights over who’s smarter, or who should lead projects, or who should’ve caught certain errors. Yet… when your dad came around…” 

Rev let out a faint whine. 

“…you still begged me for help. You cared more about getting his approval,” Tech glanced at the notes again, “about not being a failure… than you cared about being better than me.” 

“You-” his voice wavered. “You should just leave.” 

“Rev.” Tech tried to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but Rev shrugged it off. “Look, if there’s anything you wanna talk about, I’m still your best friend, alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he croaked.

Tech reached out again. “It’s just… I care about you, Rev… just like how you care about me. If you need anything, I’m here. Don’t be embarrassed to ask.” 

When Tech’s fingers brushed Rev’s shoulder again, he let out a gasping sob.

“Rev…” 

“This is pathetic! You told me not to cry and- ARGH!” He slammed his fists into the mattress. “I can’t even do that!” Wiping his eyes, he let out a broken sigh. “I tried so hard… at everything… and yet… I’m still a…” 

“Rev.” Tech gently rubbed his shoulder in what he hoped was a soothing fashion. “You didn’t fail at anything, and you aren’t and can’t be a failure, okay?” He sighed. “And I never even told you not to cry. I said I didn’t want you to feel like crying whenever I corrected you on something… because something that small shouldn’t make you so upset.” His hand traveled to Rev’s back, moving gently up and down. “And I’m assuming the reason you’re crying… isn’t related to that. It’s something more… personal.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rev muttered, still wiping away tears. 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting a little support.” 

"I don't need support."

"You can talk to me, Rev."

"No." 

"I won't judge. I promise."

“Stop!”

Tech flinched back, noticing the sharp anger and fear in Rev’s eyes. If Rev ever planned on explaining things, Tech figured that it certainly wouldn’t be any time tonight. 

“Sorry,” he said, placing both hands on his lap. “I shouldn’t have pried.” 

“It’s… You’re just trying to help me… even if I don’t need any help.” 

Tech strongly disagreed, but he didn’t want to argue. Besides, it was really late. Now probably wasn’t the best time to be having any sort of personal discussion anyway. 

He yawned, then looked around at the state of Rev’s room again.

“How about we hang out in the lounge for a little while? It’s a bit more… cheery than it is in here.” 

Rev sniffed. “I guess…” 

“We can just take a moment to relax before going to bed, alright?” 

With a shuddered breath, Rev nodded. “Okay.” 

Tech got up, frowning at the notes he was still holding before slipping them into a pocket on his shorts. It was then that he noticed the state of his shirt. 

Behind him, he could hear Rev slowly pulling himself off the bed. 

“Hey, I’m going to stop by my room to change into my pajamas. You can take a minute to cool off and meet me at the end of the sleeping quarters when you’re ready, alright?”

“Alright…” 

It felt strange to leave Rev alone, but the smell of ketchup and the cool air penetrating his torn shirt were starting to bother him. He had to trust that Rev would listen to him and not do something rash like lock himself away. 

“See you in a minute.” 

And with that, he made his way back into the hall. 

~

Tech sighed, looking down the hall toward Rev’s room. It had been a few minutes, and he was starting to worry that Rev might have decided not to show. 

Then, giving him some relief, Rev finally emerged from his room and walked over. 

“Hey Rev,” Tech greeted softly. 

“Hey Tech,” Rev wearily greeted back. 

After a brief moment of silence, Tech simply said, “let’s go.” 

They walked down the halls, not a word being spoken between them. It wasn’t quiet, however, as they could hear the TV around the corner. 

Sure enough, the flash of the TV screen at the other end of the moonlit hall became visible at the same time that the rest of the lounge did. 

“Guess nobody decided to turn off the TV,” Tech said. “I’ll handle that once we’re ready to go to bed.” 

Tech took the far corner of the couch opposite the TV. On the coffee table, he could see the burnt bulb from earlier and the TV remote, the latter of which he grabbed. 

As Rev slowly sat down on the middle cushion beside Tech, he noticed that the back of the remote was lying on the table at about the same time that Tech did. 

“Hm. I guess this is the remote Duck wanted the batteries for.” 

“They’re probably done charging by now so I could run over and grab them if you like. Alternatively, I could also get up and change the channel myself.”

“Well, we should probably check what’s on first.” 

They both looked at the TV, seeing zoomed-in footage of a sleeping tiger before a cut shot to a confused zookeeper being interviewed by a reporter. 

“I don’t know, I can’t explain that either. One second I was looking away, and then poof, the tiger is back the next.”

“Any theories or opinions on what might have happened?” 

“I have no ideas. I’m just happy she’s back, and I hope she doesn’t disappear like that again…” 

“And there you have it folks. It seems like this mystery may remain a mystery for quite some time. But, at the very least, we got a happy ending out of it. This is Channel 4 News, and this conveniently concludes our conservation special.”

Tech sighed, wiping a hand down his face. “I feel like Duck shouldn’t have gotten away with that so easily…” 

“I don’t even understand how he managed to pull it off in the first place. Maybe I’m just too tired to think up a list of possible scenarios…” 

“Just don’t bother. Kick back and relax; That’s what we came here for.” 

“Oh, um, yeah. Alright.” 

Rev leaned back on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Something was brushing up against his foot, so he craned his neck to see what it was. 

Turned out, it was a lightbulb. Likely the same one he had given Tech a little earlier. 

“Say… did you figure out the whole electricity thing?” 

Tech’s ears drooped, as well as the rest of his posture. “Well… no… You had a great suggestion… but maybe I should just throw in the towel. Surely I would have managed to produce some sort of power by now if I was capable of it… but I guess I’m just not…” 

“That’s not true! I saw you getting that lightbulb to glow at least twice today, and the second time even caused it to blow out!”

“It… Huh…” His brow scrunched in thought. “I think I can recall when the bulb blew… but you saw it glow before then?” 

“Yeah! Right after I flew into you and-” Rev faltered, pulling his legs off the table as his face heated up. “You know, we were talking, and it glowed after I mentioned dancing with you…” 

“Ah, um…” Tech’s cheeks were suddenly showing a hint of red as well. “Really? That’s… interesting.” Clearing his throat, he looked away. “I’ll have to compare what those two experiences have in common, and maybe that’ll bring me closer to achieving my goal.” 

The TV filled the air with sponsored praises for some random product they’d never use. Despite this, it played out completely before either of them spoke another word. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Rev said, voice assured but weary. “You’re the smartest person in the universe after all.”

Tech’s attention slowly turned to him, then down to his hand casually resting on the space between them.

“Thanks… it does mean a lot to know you at least think I can pull it off.” 

The light brush of something against his hand briefly jolted Rev’s mind away from the fog of sleep he was sinking into. He looked for an explanation and found that Tech had ‘casually’ left his hand, palm up, right next to his own. Of course, when Rev searched for Tech’s face, he was looking away again.

Surely, Rev thought, that this was an invitation to hold his hand… right? It was right there. It was like Tech was nudging him to just take hold. 

Though… at the moment… he didn’t really feel like he deserved it.

Rev looked at Tech again, noticing his stiff posture and the barest hint at a hopeful smile. 

…Maybe Rev didn’t exactly feel like he deserved to hold his hand, but Tech definitely deserved to have his hand held. 

“I know you can do it, Tech. You just have to keep trying.” 

After a bit of hesitation, he gingerly laid his hand on top of Tech’s. 

A delighted squeak filled the air, followed by a deeper, more manly cough. 

“I will… Uh, ‘keep trying,’ I mean.” 

Their fingers entwined, and Rev felt like the air was charged with emotion… or maybe he was just getting really tired. 

It took a second longer than it should have for Rev to remember that Tech had said something. 

“That’s good- great!” 

Tech chuckled, his posture loosening as he sat back on the couch. 

“Let’s just relax alright?” He yawned. “We can worry about whatever some other time. When we're more awake.” 

“Yeah… That’s probably a good idea…” 

Following his lead, Rev let himself kick back, feet up on the coffee table and back against the cushion. He would have started watching TV, but Tech was still occupying the last part of his mind that hadn’t drifted off. 

Though he’d blame the sleep taking over, Rev decided that Tech’s shoulder seemed like the perfect place to rest his head. As it turned out, he was completely right.

The soft weight against his side didn’t go unnoticed. Tech felt warmth swirling in his chest as he carefully looked down to see Rev sleeping peacefully. 

He didn’t intend for either of them to actually sleep out in the lounge, but he wasn’t about to complain to Rev about it. 

Letting out another yawn, Tech faintly questioned if he should carry Rev back to his room. Considering that his bed was littered with sticky notes, it didn’t seem like the best idea; He’d have to either wake Rev up or leave him on an uncomfortable bed. 

The room seemed to be getting darker, then Tech realized he was just closing his eyes. 

Somewhere in his head, he might’ve had reservations about letting himself fall asleep there, especially with Rev unwittingly falling asleep against him… But wherever those reservations were, they weren’t strong enough to push through the fog. 

Another sponsor played, something about apple juice, and Tech grabbed the remote to shut it off. It wasn’t until he was pointing it at the TV that he remembered it didn’t have batteries. 

A twinge of annoyance hit him. If only he had figured out the whole electricity thing already. Even if Rev knew he could do it, Tech still wasn’t sure what could trigger that power. 

Wait…

Tech smiled tiredly, wanting to laugh but not having the energy. 

Looking back, it was entirely too obvious to him what he was missing after sitting in his lab, failure after failure getting him down… and then gained when the person he cared for the most promised to share quality time with him once he succeeded. 

He let his lowermost fingers slide down the remote, slipping into the battery slot. The angle was awkward, but that didn’t matter. With his thumb he held down the power button, and did what Rev knew he could. 

And now, he knew he could too. 

“Thank you,” he whispered to Rev, before the soft blanket of darkness swept over the room and invited him to join his friend in sleep. 

~

Before Lexi had opened her bedroom door, it seemed like a regular morning. She had done her normal routine and was ready to bound over to the kitchen to get coffee started for the less morning-inclined teammates… when something sounded slightly off. 

The sun was barely up, so everyone else was likely in their room catching ‘Z’s, but she could hear two people breathing somewhere in HQ. Curious, she stepped down the hall. 

Her mind filled with questions of who it could be. Duck, Slam, and Tech were the first to be eliminated, as Duck could sleep through an earthquake, Slam would need one to wake him up, and Tech would probably yell at it for disturbing him before he could get some coffee. Ace was much more likely to be up this early, but given how badly he said his back ached after hitting the basement wall yesterday, Lexi bet he’d take a bit longer to get up than usual. 

Rev… was in the ‘definitely’ category on the ‘people who would be up right now’ list. It probably wasn’t great that this was the case, but Lexi couldn’t blame him for getting frustrated after the fourth or fifth time hitting the floor while trying to sleep. But, if he was up, then she should be able to smell coffee by now, as he’d normally get it brewing if she hadn’t already. 

Lexi listened in again, and noticed that the two people she heard had very relaxed heartbeats… and their breathing was pretty relaxed too. They were both definitely asleep, explaining the lack of coffee scent despite multiple people being out of their rooms. 

Now she was really curious. As far as she knew, nobody in HQ was particularly fond of sleeping anywhere but inside their custom-tailored rooms, so there must be an interesting story attached to whoever she finds napping out… in the lounge, she was now sure of. It wasn’t far off, so this wouldn’t stay a mystery for very long. 

She stepped around the corner and…

…slapped her hands over her mouth so she wouldn’t squeal at the adorable sight. 

Tucked into the center couch, Rev was laying on top of Tech, beak nuzzled against his shoulder. Tech, meanwhile, had his arms wrapped snugly around Rev’s back, keeping him locked firmly in his embrace. Both of them wore peaceful expressions in their sleep, really selling the cozy atmosphere. 

At that moment, Lexi questioned if she wanted to wait a bit before starting the coffee. Both of them seemed to be so comfortable, and she didn’t want anything to wake them up. 

Still, if Ace got up with a sore back and didn’t have coffee ready, he probably wouldn’t feel too great about it. 

Quietly, Lexi stepped away. The two of them could enjoy their moment of peace for now… but she was definitely teasing Rev about this later. 

~

Link to Magnetic Attraction Part 4 ->

[m0e-ru]

art summaries from this year and the last !! 21-22 !!

and here's some more commentary for 2022 because i will be more annoying this year

January - not a lot happening. i was asking for art reqs and NO ONE had ideas

February - MOEL SEKIYU TUMBLR BRANCH TOHRU ADACHI BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION?

March - 3/20 YEAH WAHOOO YEAAAH

April - lots of messing around this month. my merch came in the mail though !!!

May - PXDN ERA but i answered the teddie in a dress ask from like. two months prior

June - * didnt post this anyway i was messing around with csp. i really like the marker

July - * DIDNT POST THIS EITHER but one idol's stage costume looked like sho colors. it was funny in the moment

August - * DIDNT FUCKING POST THIS EITHER I HAVE NO IDEA anyway i just think theyre very important

September - * HOW MANY BIG PIECES HAVE I NOT BEEN POSTING HERE WHAT THE FUCK WHERE DO I EVEN SHARE THEM ANYWAY MAKING THIS WAS REALLY SAD CHIZUSAN WAS RETIRING AND DELETED HER SOCIALS ohh right my mimbot

October - I was trying out watercolors (the brush) and MARIE HALLOWEEN 2022 !!!

November - pocky day :] except it's jagariko

December - new year's art !! ive been wanting to draw blorbo to sogabe's new year art from the manga so here it is !!! sorry for no christmas holiday art

and here’s the love letter ive been meaning to write all the way back in august. it’s a bit personal but also vague . I am speaking from a soapbox next to a quiet intersection and pouring my heart out

im happy to see how ive improved throughout the years, and in some aspects stayed completely the same apparently. ve been jumping around 1000 brushes and 10000 more art styles ive never stayed consistent because I wanted something new and all I had was myself ! so apparently it became whatever happened here.

It’s true I had a lot more steam last year when it came to pumping art out but I think im also glad I did less art this year in a way. I’ll admit a lot of last year was fueled by chasing people and a way to reach the top and get my voice heard I felt like I was fighting for my life but im not too sure how it looked like from the outside. It’s also been fueled by spite which made me incredibly tired and something im glad I stopped utilizing this year. That I learned my boundaries and maintained them as peacefully as I am now.

Sure im a lot more tired but I think the pace im taking is a bit better in it’s own way too. I really wish I could’ve done more this year but when I look at it from afar I guess im still chasing things, too. Maybe not something new and I never really aimed for fame or anything. Maybe I just wanted to keep what I already have?

2021 I’ll confess was also a pile of shit and I guess 2022 was the year of my digging it all away and I’m not done yet. But as long as there’s progress that’s good enough for me. I’m glad I’ve been able to do all these things than not do them at all. But sometimes I wish I could relearn the restraint I had from before.

I never wanted to put a dark stain on the things I love so as long as I ground myself and remind myself why im here I can see the light and remember why I love theses things. I’m speaking in a very vague manner and I am relating this to my time in fandom as cheesy as it sounds, but also personally, I guess.

Imagine it like im talking on a soapbox right now when I say im really glad for the time I’ve spent here—while all of it isn’t the best that could’ve happened and the fault of my own shortcomings—I still treasure it. I love all the people I’ve met and the community I’ve formed and I guess there’s this fear of losing things since I’m afraid I can’t get them back, that I haven’t learned how to even connect better anymore. I really dont want this to sound like someone died lol but I really am genuinely grateful for all the time ive spent with people and how they considered me their friend and how theyre my friend and how they just moved on to other things and im stuck in a box ive put myself in that makes it so hard to be heard I stopped talking anyway.

To those who met me this year, or last year, or the year before that, or knew me before this gas station, and still are here somehow: thank you. For your kindness, for your tags, for your asks, for your replies, for your messages, for your discords, for your writing, for your art and for everything you’ve offered me. I always mean my gratitude from the bottom of my heart and I want to stop being afraid that it doesn’t show.

If this year brings more “Mim” then so be it. I’m happy you find joy in the silly nickname and all the love behind it no matter how silly it is. And even if I drift away or we all drift apart, I treasure every memory and sometimes cry over it at night. I wish 2023 would be nice to all of us and the years after.

[elle-thereafter]

For the writer's ask game: 5, 9, 18? :D

I am very late with this because life BUT:

5 - What’s the writing accomplishment you’re most proud of?

I mean, Gate Building is the largest project I’ve worked on by a huge margin, both by word count and by hours spent, and I’m really pleased with how it’s turning out. Before that the longest thing I wrote was an unfinished, unpublished Harry Potter fic that was around 30k words when I ran out of steam on it. Other than that it's been oneshots, usually under 5k words. So this is... quite a departure.

If we set that aside and take out the unspoken restriction of “fiction”, for work a number of years ago I wrote a large set of modules and practical exercises designed to teach basic programming in Python which I’m still really proud of. Put together they’re basically book-length and I tried to inject some light whimsy along the way. I got a lot of good feedback about them.

9 - What writing advice do you think is worth following?

I read Stephen King’s “On Writing” a long time ago and among the various bits of solid advice in there the one I’ve taken most to heart and found the most value in is to try to cut at least 10% in every shaping edit. A piece of writing is rarely aided by adding something to it, but it is often improved by ruthlessly trimming. It also means I’m easier with myself in the first draft: flabbiness bothers me less when I know later I’m going to make deep cuts, and it means I allow myself the extra words to explore something more fully in the initial draft. Often the bits that seem like they’ll be on the chopping block as I’m writing them actually become the necessary heart of the idea, and the stuff around it I would have been inclined to keep originally gets discarded.

18 - What is something about your writing which brings you joy?

I mean all of it? Even when it’s hard and I’m stuck it’s a frustration I kind of relish? I’ve been writing long enough to know I’m never truly stuck, and on those days a hundred pretty decent words feels like a triumph even though it was a slog the whole way. And when I get those rare days when I can spend basically the whole day writing and really sink into it fully, those are just great. Time vanishes and I’m focused and in flow and it’s exactly the best kind of exhaustion at the end of the day where my brain feels so full and satisfied. Those days are nice. 

It's a cool ask game with good writer questions!

[purplesurveys]

1561

What was the last useful piece of advice that someone gave you?   I dunno, I haven’t been the recipient of much advice recently tbh. Maybe when Bea gave me my mid-year evaluation and told me it would help to improve on delegating tasks. I do tend to kinda just go ahead and start and finish things on my own at work, but she said that wouldn’t be ok in the long run because should any fuckups happen then that shit would solely fall on me. Since then I’ve been trying to relax more and trust other people with work I’d normally do.

How long have you been taking surveys on Bzoink? Do/did you ever take surveys on any other platforms? I’ve been hanging around and hunting surveys down on Bzoink since like 2009 when I was 11, but I never made an account on there. I’ve always just stuck to Tumblr when it comes to posting surveys publicly.

As a child, did you ever watch any shows on TV that were maybe too grown-up or a little inappropriate?   Not shows or movies because censorship is a thing on TV lol, but this was definitely the case with video games. We had little to no supervision so my cousins, siblings, and I were already extremely busy with Grand Theft Auto games when we were like 5. 

Most of the crimes and all the sex stuff flew over our heads though and all I remember is that we really liked to fire the bazooka up in the sky and pretend they were fireworks. Sometimes we liked to piss the police off enough to get 6 stars just so that we got to steal and drive the tanks.

Do you remember how old you were when you first began to use swearwords?   I started regularly swearing when I was 11 – this I fully blame the internet for, because I saw sooooo many people cursing on Twitter and finally realized how normal it was people to say ‘bad words.’ 

Are there any foods or beverages that you loved as a child but wouldn't touch as an adult?   Milo powder, because yes I used to eat that shit on its own. I’d never ever do that today.

Does anyone in your life use terms of endearment a lot when talking to you? Other than my parents, no.

Is there anyone that you communicate with daily, but not in person?   My coworkers. WFH arrangement is here to stay, so.

Is there a hobby you once had, that you've now lost interest in? What is it? Would you like to get back into it again?   Embroidery. That was my main outlet and lifeline when I was coping with my breakup because it was able to keep me focused for long periods of time and it also allowed me to feel a sense of accomplishment. I don’t think I would revisit it any time soon, but I’m forever grateful to it for...saving my life, pretty much. For that reason, I still dedicate a corner of my corkboard to all my threads to serve as a reminder that it was part of my life at some point.

Do you get many leaflets pushed through your door? If you do, do you bother to look at them?   Nah, not really. The only envelopes we receive are actual bills and other stuff that my parents handle.

Who was the first famous person you recall having a crush on?   Zac Efron.

Which celebrities are you crushing on these days, if anybody?   Jeon Jung-Kook. He’s been looking so good. < LOL same. I remember the millions of conversations I’ve had with Angela and how we’re in agreement towards the fact that as much as we love Jungkook, he could never be bias material for us (he’s too young!). Sort of eating my words now though...man is out to fucking kill these days and it helps that he definitely doesn’t look and feel 25 lmao.

Do you prefer hobbies that you can enjoy alone or hobbies that you can share with someone else?   I can go either way, really! There are things more enjoyable when done with others, like how I really wanna try pottery or jewelry with friends; and other stuff that I’d much rather do on my own, like exploring coffee shops.

Is there currently any food in your house that has blue packaging?   Yeah, I can think of a couple of snacks that we have lying around.

The last time you felt down in the dumps, who or what cheered you up?   Myself.

Name a movie you enjoy that's in a foreign language.   Liway.

As a child, what was your favourite Disney movie? Is it still your favourite? Toy Story. It still very much is.

What is an essential product that, in your opinion costs more than it should?   The extent to which gas prices has risen is absolutely sickening.

As a child, what was your favourite sandwich filling? Is it still your favourite?   Egg salad. Yeah, it’s still a no-fail filling for me.

Have you discovered any new bands or singers lately, that you're into?  NewJeans!

Can you recall the last movie/TV show that made you cry? Or do you not tend to cry over such things?   Two for the Road; watched it last Friday.

Do you remember the last occasion when you were out and about and "bumped into" someone you knew? Were you glad to see them?   Yes, I covered this in the previous survey but I bumped into Cla and Tria - high school batchmates - when I had dinner with my orgmates last night. Yeah I was quite happy to see them! We were friends-ish in high school so it was cool to unexpectedly see them and say hi.

What time was it 4 hours ago? What were you doing at that time?   It was 5 PM and I was just watching a series of BTS videos on YouTube. I had worked on a work deck from 1-4 PM so by then I just wanted to go back to my home.

Do you remember the last occasion when you didn't expect to like something but found that you did? What was it? Beer. I still generally hate beer but the bottle I had at the last company party was pretty ok. What is something about social media that bothers you?   It reveals the worst in people. Just look at Facebook and you can easily weed out the racists, sexists, all the -ists of the world.

What is something about social media that you enjoy? All the cool recommendations I can pick up about different things, whether it’s albums or places to hang out or essays to read, etc.

[euterpessi]

Romance Manhwa/Manga Recommendations:

Historical Manhwa/Manga:

Death Is The Only Ending For The Villainess

I’ve reincarnated as the reverse harem game’s villainess, the one and only adopted daughter of the ducal Eckart family.

But the difficulty just has to be the worst!

Everything I do will only lead me to death.

I must be paired with one of the main male characters from the heroine’s harem before the ‘real daughter’ of the duke family appears!

Two older brothers who always pick a fight with me on every little thing.

The insane crown prince whose route will always lead to my death.

‘I only see the heroine and no one else’s wizard, and also her loyal slave knight, too!

‘First, let’s take some of them which I see no hope in, out of the list!’

“I didn’t know my place up until now. From now on, I’ll live as quiet as a mouse so you wouldn’t care the slightest bit!

But why do their interests in me keep on rising every time I draw the line?!

The Villainess is a Marionette

Cayena, the Imperial Princess, was known as the most beautiful woman in the Empire. She was a woman who knew nothing but evil and luxury.

However, she was destined for ruin: she would be used as a chess piece by her younger brother to secure his throne and killed by her crazy husband.

“I’ll make you the Emperor.”

“… Sister, are you referring to me?”

“In exchange, give me freedom.”

She had to change things before she became that Cayena.

The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up At The Duke’S Mansion

Poisoned to death by her own betrothed?! Eunha didn’t wake up in a novel’s story just to get killed off again as an unfortunate extra! To change her story she needs a cover… 6 months pretending to be the fake fiancée of the novel’s male protagonist, Duke Noah Wynknight. But will this cold-hearted, angel-faced demon of a man really help her avoid another ill-fated ending?!

Your Throne / I Want to Be You, Just For A Day

The story follows main characters Medea Solon and Psyche Callista, who become archenemies after competing for the position of crown princess of the Vasilios Empire. On the day of the Yearly Prayer, Medea and Psyche accidentally switch bodies.

The Remarried Empress

Navier was the perfect empress, however, the Emperor wanted a wife, not a colleague. And so, the Emperor abandoned Empress Navier and placed an enslaved girl beside him. That was fine until Navier heard the Emperor promise the slave the Empress’ position. After many ups and downs, Navier decided she would accept being the Queen of the neighbouring country and remarry.

Kill The Villainess

Eris Mizerian was the villainess of a novel. The only daughter of a marquis, she got executed after scheming against the pure and lovely protagonist, Helena. My only goal, after possessing her, is simply to leave this world and go home. I am prepared to face even death, but the laws of this world keep stopping me.

A changed Eris begins to draw the attention of three men who once loathed her; the Crown Prince, the High Priest, and the Knight.

"It doesn't matter. I will never be able to love this world."

Even if the only way out is death,

even if the only way out is make a deal with a witch...

I will absolutely leave this world!

This is the story of the villainess who defies fate, Eris, and her escape from this world!

The Way To Protect The Female Lead's Older Brother

I accidentally took possession of someone in a 19+ reverse harem novel.

The problem is that I became Roxana Agriche, the older sister of the sub-villain. My damn father kidnapped the heroine’s brother. Now, is the only thing left to meet a terrible end from the vengeance of the heroine?

But what if I can avoid that horrible development?

“I’m also interested in this toy.”

“I’ll protect you until you can get out of here safely.”

The heroine’s brother, Cassis Pedalian, will definitely be able to pay me back later.

Shadow Queen

“Can you be my daughter for me?”

By his offer, Elena became Duke of Franceschi’s fake daughter.

She became the queen and gave birth to Crown Prince’s son.

Then suddenly, Princess Veronica who was assumed dead came back.

She was only just a toy.

But eventually, Elena gets her son taken and is murdered.

However, she went back to the past.

“I’ll destroy all of you.”

I’ll never live as a toy again.

Elena decides to seeks revenge.

Under the Oak Tree

The daughter of a duke, the stuttering Maximilian, married a knight of lowly status at her father’s coercion.

After their first night, her husband departed for an expedition without another word.

He comes back three years later, this time as a famous knight in the whole continent.

How would Maximilian face him on his return?

"The more I think of you, the more lonely and lonely I become. I don't know why I can't quit even though it's so painful."

I'm Stanning The Prince

Angela’s fanfic became such a sensation that it even reached the Imperial Family, leading her to get arrested on charges of treason. Nevertheless, her fanfic improved the First Prince’s image, and his sister, the Princess, decides to take political advantage of this and keep Angela by their side. 

The heroine who can now fangirl to her heart’s content, and the Prince who doesn’t know how to act around her. As they bicker back and forth, they start growing closer…

Miss Not-So Sidekick

Hyejung loved to read to escape her daily stress. But that’s before she woke up inside the bizarre world of her favorite novel! Instead of the main heroine who courts three eligible men, she is now Latte Ectrie – a minor villain that everyone hates?! One way or another, it’s a chance to live out her most beloved storyline, with popcorn in hand to watch all the drama! Taking charge of the narrative takes on a whole new meaning!

Even Though I’M The Villainess, I’ll Become The Heroine!

I wasn’t able to overcome the harassment and took my life, but I was reincarnated with the perpetrator? The perpetrator is the heroine, Florre, and I am the villainess, Dahlia, who’s going to die horribly.

“They said you are a villain with neither blood nor tears, but unlike the rumors, you often shed tears.”

“Your Highness must believe all the nonsense the idiots are talking about, huh?”

Grand Duke of Cervian, the half brother of the Male lead and who will be punished for treason afterwards. He approached me. I can’t lose the man who will be my greatest ally.

“Your Highness, would you marry me?”

“Now…… what did you say?”

“And take revenge together.”

A similar situation, a fixed ending. The heroine is not the only one who knows the ending of the novel. I took a long and arduous path of revenge.

Who Made Me A Princess

The beautiful Athanasia was killed at the hands of her own biological father, Claude de Alger Obelia, the cold-blooded emperor! It’s just a silly bedtime story… until one woman wakes up to suddenly find she’s become that unfortunate princess! She needs a plan to survive her doomed fate, and time is running out. Will she go with Plan A, live as quietly as possible without being noticed by the infamous emperor? Plan B, collect enough money to escape the palace? Or will she be stuck with Plan C, sweet-talking her way into her father’s good graces?!

The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass

With the marriage of her prostitute mother to the Count, Aria’s status in society skyrocketed immediately. After leading a life of luxury, Aria unfairly meets death because of her sister Mielle’s schemes. And right before she dies, she sees an hourglass fall as if it were a fantasy. And just like that, she was miraculously brought back to the past.

“I want to become a very elegant person, just like my sister, Mielle.”

In order to face the villainess, she must become an even more wicked villainess. This was the new path Aria chose to take revenge on Mielle who murdered both her and her mother.

The Evil Lady's Hero

Junipe Magnolia, a villainess friend of the heroine in this novel called Rael Cania.

The Junipe inside the novel has always loved the male lead, Iseed. To the point where she harassed Rael out of jealousy because she's loved by Iseed.

And thus, Junipe is destinied to die in the hands of the male lead of this novel.

But one day.

"Why did I become Junipe?!"

But let's think about it, it's still one year away from the time Junipe is going to get killed by Iseed. So, I have to meet Iseed and Rael first, I'll be able to find a way out of my death if I do so.

Yeah, let's meet them first!

But, this man is just so tender-hearted and kind. Would Junipe be able to escape from this man?!

I Tamed a Tyrant and Ran Away

God gave me a chance to relive my life. Before the rebirth, I had been used for the past 400 years as the empire's sword. And so, I swore to destroy the empire. I found the young prince of the country and became his teacher. I taught him how to become a tyrant and asked for the country.

"I will do the lady's will."

He conquered the whole empire for me, and I ran away.

"I came to take you, Charlize Ronan." Dylan became a perfect tyrant and searched the entire empire for me.

"You tamed me, so why did you run away?"

Untouchable Lady

“Please, Hilise. Please die in place of Gabrielle.” My always dignified brother begged me for the first time. He wants me to die for our stepsister, whom we don't even share a drop of blood with. “For the first and last time, I ask you this.” I've always been miserable, and there is no exception this time. The seventh time that I was betrayed and killed, I was completely free of lingering feelings. “I'm glad that you're a scumbag until the end.” I won't be swayed by love anymore. It's my turn to abandon them first.

I’ll Live On As A Villainess

I reincarnated as the villainess in a book!

The one who dared to commit attempted murder on the heroine is the owner of this body?

Let's just live in a quiet place where we have fun and eat! That's what I thought for a while.

It was so, so, so cold here in the north, where I was kicked out as a punishment.

Before I froze to death, I called the Great Demon of Fire and set fire to the fireplace but...

Why isn't he going back? If you've done the job, shouldn't you go back?!

I was flustered to find out that I had signed a life contract with a demon just to start a fire but to think that I'd be responsible for relieving his desires!

The bickering romance between a big puppy demon and a small villainess lady!

It Looks Like I’Ve Fallen Into The World Of A Reverse Harem Game

When I opened my eyes, I was in a different world. I had become the game’s villainous princess who was feared by all. Not to mention… Completely naked men I didn’t even know were approaching me left and right! “Are you cold? Shall I warm you up with a hug?” “Oh? Have you not had enough yet?” Seriously, what’s up with this situation? And just how the hell am I going to get out of this freaking game?!

Father, I Don't Want to Get Married!

I’m Jubelian? The daughter of the duke and the villainess of this novel?

I managed to avoid my death with some previous knowledge about my life, as this was my second time at it. Now, I should be able to live a peaceful life!

“I’m not going to marry a man unless he has everything. I want the most wealthy, famous, and competent man there is.”

I dreamt of a glamorous life as the daughter of the duke, but my father tells me the Crown Prince who is known to be a lunatic is to be my husband! As an extraordinary measure, I couldn’t help but start a contract relationship. That is, with a handsome side character that looks better than the main one.

“Why are you trying to avoid being engaged to the prince?”

“He’s scary. I heard that he even kills his own entourage if he doesn’t like them.”

A few days later, the prince sent a terrible letter to me.

“I will not kill you.”

Oh no, did I set up another death trap for myself?

Like A Wind On A Dry Branch

"Hi, You."

Count Casarius fell victim to a plague and died suddenly, leaving behind a will stating that Rietta, his beautiful young widow of the manor, whom he tried to use as a concubine, be buried alive alongside him. Just before Rietta is buried, Archduke Axias, rumored to be a cruel tyrant, arrives at the funeral to collect the enormous debt Count Casarius still owes him.

“Everyone here seems to feel sorry for her, and I still have a debt to collect from Casarius… If I take her instead of debt, I think all of you here should be happy," he smiled.

"Hello, Temptress."

Everything was a Mistake

Roa Valrose reincarnated as villainess in the book. In order to avoid the fate of being burned at the stake, she approaches the hero, Nocton Edgar.

It hurts every time she gets closer to him. Nevertheless, for her survival, she does everything he wants her to do.

“Come again, Valrose.”

The mysterious Nocton unexpectedly sought her out every day.

Then one day, her friend for 10 years says something unknown to her.

“Actually, I have a dream. The Duke of Edgar is a terrible villain!”

He is not the hero, but the villain?

As soon as she realized that she had misinterpreted the role, she decided to get away from Nocton.

“Let’s not meet anymore.”

But the villain’s reaction was strange.

“Don’t go. You’ve always been special to me.”

She was suspicious of his sudden change of attitude.

Will she able to get rid of Nocton safely?

I Became the Tyrant's Secretary

I became the secretary of a tyrant in place of my clumsy brother to survive.

But I have so much potential for it. I’m so darn good at my job. Because I served the tyrant so well, ‘Everyone has a happy ending’.

Well then, shall I quit being a secretary and live a leisurely life now?

“Rosaline, tell me what you want.” He asked as he stepped down from his chair.

“I want to quit.”

His eyebrows twitched slightly.

“Do you want to die?”

Your highness, you never hold on to people who want to leave, so why’re you being like this to me?

Seduce the Villainess Father

After being in a bus crash, I woke up to the world of my favourite web novel.

Not only that, It was before the protagonists were born, to their parents’ world!

To stop the incoming multiple bad events.

I tried to prevent the kidnapping of the sister who is pregnant with the female lead!

But I got kidnapped instead?!

It's depressing to be kidnapped, but my body couldn't handle the mana and became a sunfish-like state

But... if I am next to the emperor who kidnapped me, my body becomes normal!

Right! The way to save that man from marrying a witch and getting killed by his son, and for someone who is vulnerable to mana such as myself to live, is for us to get married!

The Villains Savior

Set on a path to tragedy and misfortune from a young age, Aseph Randell is doomed to die a villain. That is, until the mysterious Elzay Tiathe appears in his life with a promise: "I can save you." After having vivid visions of him for so long, can Elzay untangle the twisted fate tied to Aseph... or will they both be dragged down together?

Contemporary Manhwa/Manga:

Night Crying Crow

This woman; who is she?

If something was action, it'd be action. If something was romance, it’d be romance. The A-list actor Cheon Woo Kang, who's great at every (genre), had his heart stolen away by an unknown woman who’d broken into his house!

“We'll meet again.~"

Woo Kang contracted an over imaginative illness as he drew the woman, whose name he didn't even know. In front of Woo Kang, she reappeared as the police officer Park Tae... Could the shadow of the crisis that appeared in front of them be a coincidence?

Raise wa Tanin ga Ii

Yoshino Somei would have been a normal high-schooler if not for the fact that she is the granddaughter of the leader of the Osaka-based Somei Group, the Kansai region's largest yakuza organization. One day, Yoshino hurries home after hearing of the news about the unification of Kansai and Kanto's biggest syndicates, the Somei and the Miyama groups. This, according to the article, will result in a marriage of the leaders' grandchildren—one of whom is Yoshino herself! Despite her best efforts to annul the arrangement, Yoshino has to go to Tokyo to visit her fiancé, Kirishima Miyama, who is unexpectedly nice and charming.

During their first meeting, Yoshino is swept up in various events and becomes unable to refuse moving to Tokyo, which is why, half a year later, she now lives with the Miyama group. At school, she soon realizes that Kirishima is very popular, so her relationship with him garners the hate of his fangirls and subsequently results in bullying. To make matters worse, Kirishima could not be further away from her prince charming since he, after all, was born to be a yakuza member.

Raise wa Tanin ga Ii follows Yoshino and her new life in Tokyo that is filled with nothing but troubles connected to the underworld. However, though she wishes to be as far from it as possible, this isn't Yoshino's first time dealing with the world of the Yakuza...

Positively Yours

To Hee-won’s dismay, the BFF she crushed on and her other BFF are now dating! Seriously bummed, Hee-won decides to go wild just one time, and find solace with a handsome stranger. A very satisfying one night affair has now turned into more — she’s pregnant! Fate brings them together again, and now the regimented Doo-joon is determined to do the right thing and marry her. But they’re basically strangers! Except... their bodies have been very intimately acquainted. What’s this mother-to-be to do?

True Beauty

After binge-watching beauty videos online, a shy comic book fan masters the art of makeup and sees her social standing skyrocket as she becomes her school’s prettiest pretty girl overnight. But will her elite status be short-lived? How long can she keep her real self a secret? And what about that cute boy who knows her secret?

Cheese In the Trap

Hong Sul is a ordinary college student. Yoo Jung is the school's most popular upperclass man. He's good looking, rich, smart, and even nice. However, Hong Sul thinks there's more to Yoo Jung than what meets the eye…

SPY x FAMILY

The master spy codenamed has spent his days on undercover missions, all for the dream of a better world. But one day, he receives a particularly difficult new order from command. For his mission, he must form a temporary family and start a new life?! A Spy/Action/Comedy about a one-of-a-kind family!

Doppio Senso (18+)

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about a guy.”

KyungHyun stopped in the middle of a deep kiss and sighed. His lips began to form a smile, but his fierce glare said otherwise. Possessiveness and jealousy spread across his sculpted face.

“Will you tell me his name?”

His easygoing and languid voice reached her ears.

“Why?”

“So that I can shoot him down.”

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 1; Alone

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Here’s the first chapter! Let me know what you think <3 this is based off of this request I got. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Please know I know this theme/part has little to nothing to do with the actual meaning of the song, but some lines work if you ignore the rest 😅

Summary; After Gideon leaves, Reader takes up chess to comfort Spencer through the difficult time.

Category; Fluff, Angst(?), Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings; Sad Spencer otherwise none!

Word Count; 3.5k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next

It started when I found Spencer one morning. He had fallen asleep on a chair at the bau, and he explained to me that he’d been waiting for Gideon because he promised to play chess with Spencer that night.

“Is Hotch in yet?”

“No, he will be soon. We have a case, JJ is gonna brief us and we leave in 30.”

He thanked me and left the room, with his head down. He kept the same mood during the briefing, he kept drifting off as JJ was talking. Spencer was known to be stuck in his head often, but this was far more unusual behaviour. I figured maybe he slept wrong, or maybe just was simply looking forward to playing chess with Gideon. That was their usual routine, to have a game or two after cases to relax. It was understandable to see him on edge after not hearing from him all night.

As we got on the jet he didn’t sit with me on the couch right away as he usually did, instead he walked over to Hotch in the back corner. I craned my neck to try and see what he was doing and hear what he was saying. He spoke in soft whispers, seemingly asking questions I assumed were about Gideon’s presence. I saw Hotch shake his head, to which Spencer’s expression dropped. He thanked him, then made his way over to the couch beside me.

“You okay?” I asked.

He gave me a quick nod -- yet didn’t meet my eyes -- then curled up at the end of the couch to presumably take a nap before we landed.

We were all worried about Gideon, none of us had heard from him since the last case. We figured he just needed a break from the chaos; having a loved one die would take a toll on any of us. It was logical really, any one of the team would need time to recover when presented with that situation.

Spencer remained more quiet throughout the case, not engaging in conversation when it wasn’t crucial to the work. We ended up sharing rooms but even then he didn’t budge. He mostly sat in the corner and played chess against himself, often zoning out and staring at the wall. It was hard to see, and even harder to sit back and let him try to get through it. I could tell he was fighting himself in his head, probably going over scenarios on Gideon’s whereabouts. I imagine the stress was affecting him heavily -- or at least it was clear with the way his forehead had been creased all night.

Chess. Nobody on the team had a fair shot at him besides Gideon. Sitting there staring at the pieces probably wasn’t doing him too good, only making him worry more.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care because I did, but when it comes to certain things Spencer can be defensive and refuse help, so I wanted to give him a chance to get better. It wasn’t unlike him to refuse help, and I didn’t want to make the situation worse by opening my mouth. Instead, I opted to ask, “Mind if I join in for a game?”

“What? Uh- no it’s fine. I mean, okay yes. Sure,” Spencer stuttered, spooked by my sudden appearance beside him.

“Stop slouching, you’re gonna make your posture even worse,” I chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder to remind him. He shot me a small smile, watching as I rounded the table to sit across from him. I wasn’t too good of a player, but I wanted to make Spencer feel just a little less alone.

“Do you even know how to play?”

“Ouch,” I mocked offense, slapping a hand over my heart. “So cruel, Spencer.”

He raised his eyebrows in a form of asking again, to which I replied with, “Kind of. I haven’t played for years but I’ve observed you.”

“Y-you’ve observed me?” Spencer questioned, resetting the chess pieces on the board.

“Well, yeah. Kind of hard not to. You’re a pretty interesting guy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

I smiled when he finally made eye contact with me. He looked tired -- more so than usual -- with his eyebags a deeper shade than they were normally.

The game didn’t last long. In only seven minutes, he managed to beat me. I groaned at my loss, lips pulled into a tight line. Spencer didn’t react, however.

“Okay that’s enough for me,” I said, heading over to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. “Goodnight Spence. Get some sleep. No offense but you look like you need it.”

He hummed at me, cleaning up the table before he climbed into his own bed.

I could tell he didn’t sleep much that night, as he kept a lamp on and littered his bed with various books. He looked cute, all swaddled up in the blanket he brings with him on every case for a sense of stability. His glasses were perched on his nose, and he was chewing his fingernails -- a habit I’ve tried to get him to kick over the past two years.

We didn’t talk during the night, but we both knew that each other were awake. I was kept up by my thoughts, trying to figure out how to get Spencer out of his slump. Re-learning how to play chess seemed like a decent enough idea -- yet one that would take some time. I was proved tonight that my skill needed to be greatly improved. It was nice in the moment, but realistically it would take a few weeks, if not more, to get the hang of.

The next day at the precinct I was stationed at the map, trying to figure out our geographical profile. I heard faint chattering coming from outside, and looked over my shoulder to see Spencer and Derek talking. I couldn’t hear much, but I did get that Spencer mumbled about calling Gideon, to which Derek answered that he might’ve just missed the call. It was possible, but likely deeper than that.

“Six times? Six calls? Something’s wrong,” Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes.

I didn’t intervene with the conversation, instead deciding to finally speak to him about it after the case had ended.

On the last day, we all headed to our rooms after grabbing some dinner, to get a good rest before we took off early the next morning.

“Hey Spence, you awake?”

He hummed in response, and I could hear the rustle of the sheets as he rolled over in his bed to face me.

“I know you’re worried about Gideon. How about when we get back tomorrow I’ll drive you down to his cabin? We can go check on him.

“Would you really?” he asked softly. I couldn’t see him fully in the darkness, but I could sense he was looking at me with pleading eyes.

“Of course. I don’t like seeing you this stressed and down. I want to help.”

“Thanks ____, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

After our conversation it was like a blanket of grey was lifted over his head. He settled in more, drifting off to sleep within minutes. I hated seeing him sad, and I did my best to try and fix his mood whenever I could. Spencer didn’t like change, I knew that, and the team knows that. A part of me had a sneaking suspicion that Gideon wasn’t coming back, and I had fear for what that would mean for Spencer.

-----

“Do you want me to come in with you?” I asked, pulling up in front of the cabin and turning off the engine. The only sounds were the faint hum of rain outside, splattering against the windows.

Spencer shook his head and took a deep breath, before unbuckling himself and opening his door. He mumbled something about being right back, as he headed off towards the building. It wasn’t dark yet -- only being four pm -- but it wasn’t too light either.

It looked as if the lights inside the cabin were off, and I could just hardly see Spencer as he knocked on the door. He waited on the porch for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would come to the door.

Nobody did.

It was hard to just sit there and watch, as his desperation grew stronger by the millisecond.

-----

I took deep breaths, trying to even out my intake of air and remain calm. When nobody answered the fifth time that I knocked, I reluctantly grabbed a hold of the knob and turned it. Much to my surprise the door opened, creaking inch by inch as I stood there unmoving.

“Gideon?” I called into the home, taking one step inside. “Jason?”

I wasn’t greeted with an answer, he didn’t come to the door and thank me for coming to visit. It was eerily quiet -- so quiet I took a few more steps inside to create some sort of volume.

“Hello?” I spoke again, louder this time. Shutting the door behind me I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the entrance.

The place had been mainly cleared out, there weren’t many personal items behind. I stalked over to the kitchen, to see if there was any trace of someone within the last few days. It’s been officially a week and a half since anyone had last heard from him that I was aware of. I thought someone must have eaten, or at least left a bit of a mess behind them that would signal a presence.

As I turned the corner to enter the new room I noticed something on the table. I stopped in my tracks, leaning down to take a closer look.

Gideon’s badge, gun, and an envelope.

I swallowed thickly, walking around the table and took a seat in front of the items. When I saw the envelope had my name on it, my heart dropped. With shaky hands I picked up the paper and opened it, seeing there was a letter inside.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me.

You must be frightened, I apologize for that. I never meant to cause you any pain. But then I also never envisioned writing this letter. I’ve searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I’m doing, all I’ve come up with is: a profiler needs to have solid footing. I- I don’t think I do anymore. The world confuses me. The cruelty, indifference, tragedy.

I stopped there, my eyesight becoming blurry from tears. I shoved the letter in my pocket, not caring at the moment if it got crumpled or not.

I was out of the cabin in no time -- choosing not to stay there and sulk in a deeper sadness.

-----

Waiting in the car for Spencer felt like torture. It was difficult, letting him go in there alone to be met with possibly no answers. I was thrown out of my thoughts by the sound of the cabin door slamming shut, Spencer jogging over to the car.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, red flags hanging immediately as he climbed in the car, tear soaked face pointed down towards his lap. It took me a moment to realize he was crying -- the rain had completely soaked through his top layer of clothes. He didn’t reply with words, instead reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. He handed it over to me, still not meeting my eyes.

I unfolded it and began to read -- it was hard, through the tear stains smudging the ink across the page.

“Oh, Spence…” I whispered and stopped after the first few sentences, leaving the rest for him. I didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him.

“He’s gone,” Spencer sniffled, wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his nearly drenched jacket. “He just left. He didn’t say goodbye. He left me a note,” he froze, taking a few deep breaths. “Just like my dad did when I was a kid.”

“It’ll be okay. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s okay,” I assured him. “You know he cares about you, right?”

“I know he is. It’s just-” he started, trying to find the right words between his gasping for more air. “Can you just take me home, please.”

I nodded, while turning the car back on to drive away. Spencer kept his gaze towards the window, refusing to let me see his face. I’m selfishly almost glad for it, because I don’t know if seeing his heartbreak is something I could handle.

It was a long, quiet drive, taking around an hour and a half to finally reach his apartment. He scrambled out of the car fast, but I still walked him up as I usually did. He got to the door before me, thanking me for driving him home. He shut the door just as I got fully up the stairs, leaving me standing with my mouth open.

‘Baby, when you fought me at the door

Kinda hard to force what's natural

Maybe you don't want what you need most’

-----

The next day when he came over after work he was almost back to normal. It was weird to see, to see such a shift in his behaviour after less than twenty-four hours. As much as he tried to hide it, I could tell just how hard it was for him. The sudden change didn’t go well with anyone, we’d all been informed that Gideon wouldn’t be returning and that he’d moved on from the BAU. It was especially hard on Spencer too, since Elle had just left not too long ago, and then Emily joined the team. First he loses a friend, someone who truly understood him as I did, and then someone he considered a father figure.

And neither of them had said goodbye to his face. It was scary, knowing a member of your team could walk out and never return before you know it.

We were seated on the couch, a game of chess displayed on the middle cushion between us.

It wasn’t anywhere near a fair game -- Spencer’s skills were still far ahead of mine. However I noticed it made him smile, and that’s all I wanted. For him to feel loved, and secured. It was a sense of grounding, a routine that was regular in his life. I still wasn’t very good -- not having played since high school and that night on the last case. But I downloaded an audiobook and several player’s guides for the plane ride home to study, because I wanted to learn for Spencer’s sake. However I soon realized it was easier to watch Spencer and how he plays, and to ask him questions. He seemed to enjoy it, having someone else in his life to play with.. And he loved to teach, to help people learn. He was so good at it too, his big brain being used to help people no matter the context.

Eventually he won the game as usual, causing me to groan in frustration..

“You bastard.”

“Not my fault you kinda suck,” he laughed bashfully, lips curling up into a small smile. It was nice to see a bit of happiness on his face, no matter how temporary.

“You’re so rude to me,” I joked, moving the board to the coffee table. “I thought we were friends.”

It was silent for a few moments, with me figuring out what I was going to say next.

“Spencer I know you haven’t wanted my help, but please tell me what I can do for you. Tell me how you feel, at least?”

‘Maybe you don't want what you need most’

“It’s nothing, ____,” he breathed, looking away from me and instead at the wall the couch was facing. He could see our reflection on the blank tv, and instead opted to just look down at his lap. “I’m better now.”

‘You ain't even there for me

Now you're scared to be alone’

“Respectfully, that’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on. I know you don’t want to talk about this but at least give me something. Don’t keep it all in. It’s not healthy.”

His face screwed up at my words, eyebrows furrowed and lips twitching. I could tell he knew I was right, as much as he hated it.

“I’m just- I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Spencer whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

‘Got me thinkin' that you scared of yourself, not me’

It all made sense -- the way he’d been distancing himself lately. It took me promising candy and Star Trek for him to come over tonight, and even then he almost declined. Too many blows to the heart made him afraid to get attached. He didn’t want anyone else from his life to disappear in a flash.

“Look at me,” I said, and he snapped his head to face me. “I’m not going anywhere. I can’t claim to be far in the future, but right now? I’m here. You’re stuck with me for a while, Spencer.”

He smiled, closing his eyes as a stray tear graced across his cheek. I used my thumb to wipe it away, and pulled him into a tight hug. He relaxed against me, I felt the tensions in his shoulders deflate as I held him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. His breath shuddered, and he wrapped his arms around my middle tighter, pushing his face into my shoulder to muffle his crying.

We sat for a while, my hands tracing patterns along his back. It took a few minutes for his cries to calm down, but eventually his breathing evened out with only a few hiccups here and there. He was practically sitting in my lap with his legs flung over mine, suddenly not caring about his personal space. I couldn’t blame him -- the boy was so touch starved he so clearly craved all contact he consented to.

“Do you want to spend the night?” I asked, quietly so I didn’t scare him with the sudden sound.

“Could I please?”

“Of course,” I smiled, pulling away. He still held on tight, not wanting to let go.

We made our way to my bedroom, repeating our usual routine. This wasn’t the first time we’d had a sleepover, and it won’t be the last I’m sure. Sometimes after particularly harder cases he would spend the night, just to be close to someone.

I went into the bathroom to change, giving him the opportunity to do the same. When I returned, he was dressed in a t-shirt and flannel pants he left at my place for sleepovers like this. He was already in bed, and when he saw that I was done in the bathroom he lifted the side of the blanket to welcome me in.

I joined him, grinning as he scooted over and pressed his back to my chest. I felt him breathing softly, my right arm slung over his torso to bring him in closer. He held onto my hand, and didn’t let me drift away. I was happy to comply, happy to feel his body warmth radiate through me.

“Thank you, ____. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Spence.”

From that day on for the foreseeable future, I swore to myself to have check-ins with Spencer whenever it seemed necessary. Whether it was in the form of words, sleepovers, movie nights, or chess.

His smile got brighter everyday, and eventually he no longer felt as much weight on himself a few weeks down the road. He still cried to me about how he missed Gideon, but it had gotten less frequent. And I was always there for him, offering my shoulder and the promise of my embrace. I knew he appreciated it too.

After a few months since our first game, I beat him in a game of chess. We were on the jet on the way to Montana for a case, and Derek was sitting beside Spencer. He kept annoying him, doing little things like twisting his hair and fanning him with files. Spencer kept shrieking quietly -- trying not to alert Hotch of the bickering.

“Checkmate,” I said, biting back a smile.

“What?!” Spencer froze, arm raised in what looked like to be a poor attempt of whacking Derek’s head.

“Awe, pretty boy. You’ll get her next time,” Derek threw his head back in laughter.

“What?” Spencer repeated quieter, eyes darting across the board, likely running calculations in his head.

“Better luck next time,” I smirked, tilting my head to the side. I wiggled my eyebrows, my small victory boosting my ego.

Spencer tried to keep a neutral face, but I could see by the tension in his cheekbones that he was happy. He was enjoying it.

-----

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[enhyupn]

the perfect date! chapter one

masterlist | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i literally had to dig this out of my drafts so i don’t even know myself what i’ve written PLSSS

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush

falling in love at the age of twelve wasn’t what you were expecting while learning basic algebra. being heartbroken at the age of thirteen while reciting shakespeare was also not as expected. the cause of both of these unforgettable moments? park jongseong, or otherwise known as jay to almost everyone around you. your first love was something that stuck with you, even in the present. he was your seat mate in three of your classes and the person you would ask for the homework right before it’s due date. it was a one sided crush, it was quite obvious to you. he was popular, sporty and incredibly talkative, you were one out of maybe twenty people that had a huge bulging crush on him. 

at age fourteen you vowed to forget about him, the previous year he had moved to america to improve his english abilities which had put you in a miserable mood for almost all of your middle school life. who else was supposed to give you the math homework? how were you supposed to feel excited to go to school when jay wasn’t going to be there? your barely-a-teen mindset made you think you were never going to get over him.

flashing forward to freshmen year of high school, new school, new class and a clean slate to basically pretend you were a completely different person. no more being dependent on other people! no more trying to do anything to get friends! no more—

“hi, my name’s jake” oh boy.

and that’s how jake sim entered your life. it was his australian accent peaking through his words as he flashed you an energetic smile that pulled you in. you could of fallen for him at that instance, well you could of fallen for him throughout your years of friendship but the returning thought of your first love entirely stopped that process. jake sim was like a breath of fresh air, he was everywhere you went and had your back for everything.

you were his best friend and you thought of him like one too, you two were practically glued to one another. of course you had side comments, gossip that the two of you were dating or one of you two had an one sided crush (the latter part of that sentence we aren’t going to get that much into) but it didn’t make you two feel awkward or anything like that. with jake you almost forgot about jay (algebra and shakespeare being the things that stimulates the memory of him). although it wasn’t like jake was a rebound, you think yourself you’ve felt happier when you were around jake. i mean jake’s definitely popular, rivalling jay’s popularity in middle school even. if you asked anyone in your school who they’ve had a crush on, jake sim is number one on that list. he had some type of air around him, always being incredibly positive, he quite literally radiated the colour yellow. maybe you had a type when it came to people you associated with.

the close second on that list was maybe the complete opposite to jake in terms of their public image to the school. park sunghoon was the class president in your class. academically gifted, popular with the female population in your school, a talented figure skater, a stereotypical cold and distant beauty, there were a lot of layers to sunghoon. you personally had never really talked to him, the only time being when he had dropped papers on the ground in the hallways, maybe a few months ago. you helped him pick them up before carrying them with him to the teacher’s staff room. even then, you two had barely shared any words during that whole incident besides a “thank you”.

still, you could say you respected sunghoon. i mean who could have the energy to do his whole schedule besides him? you definitely could not. plus the way he was one of the most popular bachelors added to his busy schedule. the most recent valentine’s day was the proof as well as it was record breaking in your terms of your classes history with the day. having jake and sunghoon meant there were a lot of people trying to confess their feelings entering your classroom. last year, jake was stopped twenty three times the whole day, beating out sunghoon’s twenty sudden confessions. this year, there a sudden decline in jake’s confessions, a whopping three people only expressing their feelings desperately to him as he politely declined. sunghoon’s number rose by about ten people, expected but still a little shocking.

it wasn’t like the two of them cared about it, the only thing they did care about though was being polite when rejecting people. you couldn’t really sympathise with jake or sunghoon whenever they had to prepare yet another rejection, the only confession you’ve received being from yoon hyunsuk that was quite awkward considering he was a family friend and you saw him almost every week after you had rejected him.

anyways, returning to present time where you were doing your regular daily routine for a weekday. it always went waking up way too early, under eating breakfast in hopes to get the bus on time, meeting jake on the bus, walking to class with him and trying to not fall asleep in the middle of math class. it started off completely normal, maybe a little too normal.

“did you hear?” jake whispered in your ear. the two of you were supposed to individually practice questions but the chattery side of jake honestly got the best of him at moments like these.

“what is it?” you reply back quietly.

“a transfer student is coming in after lunch ends, one from america” now that really got your attention. you turn to him with your eyes wide in surprise, curiosity taking over you completely as you ignore the difficult question in front of you.

“did you see them?” jake couldn’t help but feel the sudden heat rush to his face as your sparkling eyes met his. “how do you even know this?”.

“ryujin told me plus, i saw a bit of him at the principal’s office” you looked behind him, trying to get a glimpse of the mentioned girl. the concentrated look on her face as she tried to solve the maths problem was evidence to you that she hadn’t heard her name being mentioned by jake. “said something about bleached hair that was definitely going to get the teachers mad”.

“now you got me excited” your small smile only sending butterflies to his stomach. you turn your head back down to face the still blank piece of paper, deciding that it was about time you started on that question.

“y’know he kinda looked familiar” the questioning tone in jake’s voice caught your attention, turning back to him in confusion.

“what do you mean?” a pout formed on your face. more confusion took over your face when you realised jake looked away from you quite fast, his ears turning a slight shade of pink.

“i— i don’t know” he silently cursed himself for letting himself fall deeper into his one sided crush from only small moments. his sudden black mind caused him to forget what he was meant to say to you, only leaving you puzzled by his words.

jake sitting opposite to you as you ate your unsettlingly warm sandwich, was really the only thing really going on during lunch that say. although weirdly enough, park sunghoon’s glances and staring was a new addition to your lunch time. even without directly looking at him, you could feel his eyes as they dug into the back of your head.

“you know you can relax, sunghoon’s not gonna bite you” jake commented on your stiffness. you bit your lip anxiously when you realised how loud he was being, not wanting sunghoon to know he was currently the topic of conversation between the two of you.

“if you speak any louder he might hear you” you angrily whispered to his face as you rolled your eyes. the boy chuckled before placing a small ball of rice into his mouth.

“he won’t idiot” jake tells you with maybe little too much confidence. you noticed that sunghoon had looked away from you abruptly, his cheeks visibly reddening as he faced his desk. “oh”.

“why are you like this?” you expressed you concerns. jake shrugged his shoulders, not understanding where you were coming from. “i should be excited for the new student, not trying to tame you from embarrassing our class president!”, your voice lowering at the last few words.

“i think he wants to tell you something”

“i think i want you to shut up” you muttered and you took another bite from your sandwich, wincing at the warm tomato and soggy lettuce that came into contact with your mouth.

jake was about to fire back but was only stopped by your phone violently vibrating on the table. your eyes widen in embarrassment as you frantically tried to get to it. you turn your phone to look at the screen, a notification telling you someone was calling you. jake tried to take a peek at your phone, only abandoning the plan when he saw you glare at him.

“hey yeojin” a small smile forming on your lips when reciting your middle school friend’s name. im yeojin was your best friend up until high school when her parents made her go to an all girls boarding school instead of your co-ed high school. she hated it so much when it was initially brought up by them but from the looks of it now, she’s actually enjoying herself. yeojin was the only person, excluding jake, that ever knew about your crush on jay. jake found out when the two of you were looking through old middle school pictures, you pointed at jay in a class photo and that’s the story on how jake knows about jay’s existence. “what’s up?”.

“i’m not supposed to be on my phone” her voice was frantic. you knew from her many, many letters that her school was strict when it came to personal phones. she was only allowed it everyday for thirty minutes during lunch on the weekdays, three hours on the weekends. “but, i have some exciting news for you”.

“what is it?” jake could see your eyes glisten in curiosity. he chuckled to himself as he placed his chin in his palm, his full attention being placed onto you.

“guess”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this right now” you squinted in annoyance at her playfully attitude.

“i was kidding” yeojin’s contagious laugh caught up to you, making it look like you forgot about her joke on you. “but you know how you’re old instagram account got deleted because of—”

“don’t say it” you interrupted through gritted teeth. jake laughed loudly at your reaction, catching the attention of sunghoon yet again.

“anyways, and you basically lost all of our middle school classes handles?”

“yes, i remember it all a little too well” embarrassment laced through your words as you remembered the never-to-be-mentioned-again memory.

“anyways so jay...” your eyes lit up at the mention of his name, an unsettling feeling in jake’s stomach appearing due to your expression. “he’s back!”.

“he’s back?” you stood up from your seat in surprise. your class looked at you in concern before you apologised as you embarrassing lowered yourself down to your seat. “you’re not kidding me right?”.

“why would i lie?” you could feel yeojin’s eyes rolling through the phone. “oh shit, patrol’s back. gotta go, i’ll send a letter soon—”

jake watched as you ended the call staying seated with your eyes widened, unable to process what had happen. you couldn’t pinpoint any of the emotions you were feeling, were you happy? anxious? scared? you had no clue. you bite your lip, hoping the action can help your blank mind.

“so—”

“is this 3-A?” a loud voice entering the class interrupted jake, causing the boy to sigh out of frustration.

you turned your head in the direction. you felt yourself shake in more shock when you realised who the person at the entrance was, and from the way they looked back at you, he realised who you were to. you abruptly looked away, facing the window on your left with your face burning up as you held up a hand to cover your face.

jake’s puzzled expression took over his face before putting the pieces together. his heart was beating at such a fast rate that he felt breathless, he didn’t think he was at all ready to see his crush’s first love entering their own classroom.

he watched as sunghoon did his usual mannerly class president thing, standing up from his seat all professional and kind before making his way to jay with an open hand for him to shake.

“hello, you’re earlier than expected” sunghoon smiled, unsure if it was genuine or not due to the fact the boy in front of him didn’t even acknowledge his presence. he dropped his hand before letting out a quiet irritated sigh, trying to figure out what he had his eyes on.

even with sunghoon’s growing annoyed expression, jay’s eyes were still trained on you. it was like you were frozen, no muscle in your body allowed you to move as you blankly stared outside the window. the only thing moving was your eyes shutting completely as you felt footsteps coming your way, instantly knowing who it belonged to.

“y/n” a cheery voice made it’s way to jay’s words.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow at the two of you, not entirely following this whole situation. how did he know you? why did you seem so embarrassed? bashful even? and why was jake staring at jay like he just killed his family?

“j-jay hey, y-you’re back” you finally turned your head, however still unable to look at him in the eyes. jay chuckled at the way you tripped over your words, memories of the two of you from middle school playing in his head. he glanced down beside you, the empty seat almost begging him to sit there.

you almost feel yourself jump into your seat when you noticed jay was pulling back the chair beside you as he prepared himself to sit down. at this point jake’s face was visibly red, glaring at jay for reasons that cannot be exactly explained and sunghoon’s feet had even brought him all the way to your desk meaning he had a full view of this whole mess. you four had the whole classes attention, even with some whispering to each other about you. 

“it’s been a while” jay smiled through his words as he sat down, his position facing you as you struggled to make eye contact. you could feel yourself sweating from the unbearable heat coming from your cheeks, your head still blank unable to think properly.

“you two know each other?” sunghoon asked curiously as he placed his hand on his hip. you don’t know why but you cursed sunghoon silently in your head for asking that question, the thought of jay telling him you were only his friend pained you.

“yeah, middle school classmates” jay finally acknowledged the boy’s presence. sunghoon nodded in reply as he scanned your expression, unable to understand how you were feeling. “i had— i can’t say it it’s too embarrassing actually” jay rubbed his neck embarrassingly before turning away in embarrassment, only for his eyes to meet jakes.

“no, carry on” jake’s few words came out as a little passive aggressive but didn’t particularly offend jay in any way. it was quite obvious to everyone but you that jake was being a little jealous, possessive maybe from the way he glared at jay and sunghoon, who frankly didn’t really do anything up until this point.

“oh okay...” jay didn’t know why he felt nervous. maybe it was cause jake couldn’t keep his glare off of him or he was about to regret his next few words. “i had the biggest crush on y/n”.

now that got your attention. with wide eyes your eyes made contact with his at last, his cheeks were tinted pink and he had a bashful smile spread across his lips. you could even see jake in the corner of your eyes closing his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock. while sunghoon, who was right behind jay, looked like he wasn’t completely over the shocking revelation.

“i—” you felt speechless. this was the first time you’ve heard anything about this, you didn’t even think you were ever going to hear those words. you once again tried to open your mouth in an attempt to reply but was just met with nothing.

“they didn’t like me back though” jay continued. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyebrows raised with confusion taking over your face.

“but i—”

“y/n can we talk....” jake’s voice interrupting your soon to be confession as he stared at you with a serious expression. you turned to him, once again not fully processing this whole situation. “...outside the classroom?”.

you glanced back to jay who looked visibly irritated, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. sunghoon just stood behind him, staring at jake with what looked to be some sort of fear. letting out a sigh, you stood up from your seat as you looked jake in the eyes.

“let’s go outside jake” you were slightly thankful for his sudden request due to you not wanting to be stuck in that suffocating environment. you watched as he stood up from his seat, his expression changing into quite an anxious one.

the curiosity didn’t leave you as you followed jake out of the classroom, you even heard your classmates whisper to each other as you passed them. you didn’t even want to look back to see the face of jay, you had ended your long awaited reunion short just to go talk to your best friend by the staircase. jake glanced around the area to make sure nobody was there to listen to what he had to say.

“thanks for getting me out of there—”

“i like you” those three words almost made you faint on the spot.

was it time to wake up now?

[costellos]

❥ ┋ ❝ gojo & the touches that led up to your first kiss!

anonymous said: can i get cafune with gojo? his hair looks vvv soft 🥺

a/n: omg... it totally does... well, I hope you can live vicariously through this fic friend, bc there are plenty of instances where you get to touch Gojo’s hair! enjoy!!

tw: none.

ask game: one-word ideas for when you’re feeling stuck (closed!)

disclaimer: I’m anime-only, so apologies if my character interpretations aren’t accurate.

cafuné (portuguese, n.) - the act of tenderly running one’s fingers through someone’s hair.

the first instance was when you saw him without his blindfold for the first time. it was shortly after he was ambushed by Jogo. he’d stopped by your office to tell you the whole story, to ponder about how interesting the situation was. but before he could say so much as your name, you stopped him. “where’s your blindfold?” you asked. “eh?” he scrunched his nose. “that’s the first thing you think when you see me?” he was leaning against your desk at this point, arms crossed. despite the hurt comment and quizzical expression, Gojo was far from offended. he was curious. word spread fast on campus — surely you’d heard about what had happened. but no, you didn’t ask him about it. instead, you stood up from your desk, assuming your place right in front of him. with your own scrunched nose and furrowed brows, you took your fingers and raked them through his hair, pulling it back so that you could properly see his face. that pinched expression on your face melted into something warmer. Gojo with his hair down was a Gojo you hadn’t familiarized yourself with. that was something he would learn much later. but to see you be so forward, to feel your fingernails run themselves along his temples, made him feel a way he didn’t know was possible with you. “mm. much better,” you said at last. it was in that moment that Gojo thought about kissing you for the first time. yet this wasn’t the right place or time. that would have to wait for a different day. in the meantime, he wondered if you could feel his heartbeat through the pads of your fingers.

the second instance was while watching a movie. being one of the few instructors at Tokyo Tech, you’d invited him over to celebrate the end of exam season. have a few beers, shoot the breeze, the whole shebang. maybe it was the beer talking or maybe you just needed something to do with your hands. but while watching some Bruce Lee movie on Netflix, you made a rather odd demand: “sit on the carpet, I wanna try something.” being a jujutsu sorcerer meant putting a lot of faith in your peers. your life was constantly on the line, and at any moment, you had to be willing to give it up for the greater good. although this wasn’t a life-or-death situation, Gojo trusted you all the same. “oho? what for?” “just trust me.” so he did. he scooted from your couch to the space in front of you, positioning himself so he’d be beneath you. that’s when he felt your fingers run through his hair once again. you brushed through his white locks slowly, careful to not accidentally tug on any knots. with diligent fingers, you began separating his hair into parts of three, then twirled each part around each other. you were braiding his hair. “is the movie really that boring?” he joked. “nah,” you replied, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.” ...oh? for a while now? had you been thinking that intensely about touching him as he did you? Gojo didn’t reply to that comment. he... wasn’t even sure what to say, if he was being honest. he can read people well. he had to — a person in his position would’ve never survived this far without it. he was always one step ahead of everyone, calculating their intentions before they opened their mouth. this, though. this came out of no where. but being here, knowing that you were so close to him, that you wanted to be close to him... he didn’t mind that for the first time he can remember, he was one step back.

the third instance was right at a bus stop. it was 11 PM and no one was in sight. it had just started snowing. although there was a heat lamp above your heads, it was far too small to provide any sort of adequate warmth. “gaaah, it’s too cold for this!” you whined. “I thought buses were supposed to come every three minutes in Tokyo!” “wha—? you don’t actually believe that, do you?” “I-I mean! it sounded believable enough!” you look so cute bundled up in your jacket. you let Gojo do the honor of wrapping your scarf around your neck before you ventured into the harsh outdoors. maybe he should’ve wrapped it a little tighter because your shivering was painfully obvious. well. you clearly didn’t mind being close to him. and if you could be bold with him, he could do the same for you. “here, [Name]. stand in front of me.” the bus shelter was the kind that only protected you from the snow above. there were no walls, allowing wind to pierce through you with icy strength. however, because Gojo was taller than you and because the wind was coming from the east, he could easily block it off if you just stood in front of him. so you did as told. you stepped in front of your peer, and like that, you were shielded from the snow and the wind. it wasn’t enough to stop your shivering completely, but hopefully it made being outside a little more tolerable. “that better?” “y-yeah,” you replied. “but aren’t you cold, too?” “nope! I’m all good.” “...hm. you’re lying.” and once again, your fingers were in Gojo’s hair. like the first time you touched him, your nails slid across his temples to push those white locks away from his face. “your cheeks,” you continued. “they’re pink.” ...were they? ah. maybe they were. feeling your fingers in his hair again, your face just inches away from his; he couldn’t tell you if it was from the cold or from how close you were to him. both? maybe both. he didn’t mind either way. at this point, he’d given everything to you. his time, his love, himself. Gojo Satoru was always planning for the future. everything he did today would be to improve tomorrow. yet when he was with you, it felt that, even for a second in this dimly-lit shelter with a bus that was far too behind schedule, he could live in the moment. he would give more of himself to you if he could. and he did. that’s why he didn’t respond to you. that’s why he placed his hands over yours. and that’s why this was the moment where he finally decided to kiss you.

like this piece? here are some similar works! 🌑 🌒 🌓

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 24 - ao3 -

The Cloud Recesses was calm and serene, tranquil and undisturbed. But unlike its usual tranquility, Lan Qiren felt that it was the calm of the moment before a firework exploded, the air thick and heavy with the impending eruption of an oncoming storm.

Lan Qiren’s brother continued to neglect his work to court He Kexin, who seemed to have improved her opinion of him somewhat during the time that Lan Qiren was gone, though whether it was the earnestness of his passionate pursuit, flattery at the idea of a man gone mad for her, or just that she’d become resigned to the idea for the moment, it wasn’t clear. What was clear to anyone with eyes was that her regard for him, although apparently now genuine, was nowhere near as fanatical as his. Lan Qiren suspected that they had started sleeping together, which seemed like a mistake on her part.

Still, brother or no, this was not a matter in which he was qualified to intervene.

Lan Qiren returned to his usual life, although he again temporarily delayed his planned departure in order to assist with sect matters – whatever his relationship with his brother, Lan Qiren loved his sect very much, and he, at least, would not so easily allow it to slip into disarray through neglect. No one asked him about the matter of He Kexin; his teachers pretended his unjust punishment had not happened but avoided his eyes for several weeks, and his peers had mostly moved on with their lives.

(His brother pretended he didn’t exist, but Lan Qiren didn’t hold it against him. Rumor had it that Wen Ruohan had either threatened or actually hit him or both to make clear how much he disapproved of what happened to Lan Qiren, and whether or not that was true, Lan Qiren enjoyed the thought too much to quibble over how his brother wanted to salvage his dignity.)

Lan Yueheng passed along news – not gossip, he said self-righteously, just news, as if Lan Qiren would somehow miss the fact that ever since he’d paired up with that pretty storehouse clerk of his, Lan Yueheng had belatedly discovered the joys of gossip and taken to it like a fish to water – but there wasn’t much of it, not even with his beloved Zhang Xin’s prodigious capacity for romantic stories and ability to embroider just about any situation into something resembling one. Cangse Sanren wrote Lan Qiren several letters, but once she’d been assured of his health and wellbeing, they largely shifted over to complaining about the Jin sect, where she was now residing, and occasionally included lurid descriptions of Wei Changze specifically meant to shock his conscience.

How are you even seeing him, Lan Qiren wrote back. Aren’t you in Lanling? He’s a servant in Yunmeng. Doesn’t he have a job?

Jiang Fengmian has ascended to the position of sect leader, she wrote back. He has to visit the other sects relatively often, and the Jiang sect has always been close to the Jin sect. Why shouldn’t they visit?

Lan Qiren thought about his brother and shook his head. Was irresponsibility in the rainwater this year?

I trust you’ve made your view on the matter clear to Jiang Fengmian.

Of course, she replied. He seems to live in hope that one day I’ll change my mind.

You’ve never changed your mind about anything.

So I’ve told him. Really, the fact that he doesn’t realize that is yet another reason why we wouldn’t be a good pair – putting aside his role, which I don’t want to share. Can you imagine me as mistress of the Lotus Pier? I’d be awful at it.

Lan Qiren imagined it, and shuddered.

Anyway, I’m like you – I want to travel! There’s so much to see out there. What a pity it would be to be trapped inside all day, like a caged lark singing only for a select few.

You could always invite others to come share their stories with you instead, he replied, thinking of Wen Ruohan sitting alone in the room he had designed for Lan Qiren like a dollhouse, waiting for a maid to help him vent his emotions over Lao Nie and Lan Qiren both. The rumors from Qishan said he’d recently taken on a concubine and that she was pregnant; Madame Wen was apparently furious over it. Bring the world to you, if you can’t go to them. That’s what sect leaders generally do, to my understanding: feathering their nest to make it bright and pleasing to their eyes because they cannot leave lest it fall apart. That’s a way of living, too.

I suppose, she replied, fearless and carefree as ever. But not for me!

There was Lao Nie, too.

He visited the Cloud Recesses a month or so after Lan Qiren’s visit to the Nightless City, belatedly concerned about Lan Qiren’s well-being – “I didn’t hear about it,” he said, looking shamefaced. “I had other matters on my mind…I’ll talk to your brother, though. I can’t believe he would order something so disproportionate. Is he here?”

“He is not,” Lan Qiren said with a sigh. Those who said you couldn’t change a man’s essential nature were not wrong, he thought, already forgiving Lao Nie despite his lack of actual apology.

Lan Qiren had always liked people whose spirits were bold and relentless, uncompromising and unbending just like him; there was really no other way to explain his truly inexplicable fondness for Cangse Sanren and Lan Yueheng and even Wen Ruohan, except maybe to say that he found himself compelled to love where he was loved in return. Lao Nie was like two drops of water with the rest of them, forging his own path in the world, wholly and truly himself – even if he left chaos in his wake, why should Lan Qiren expect more of him than to be exactly what he was?

“He’s out night-hunting,” he added. “Down in the south. There were tales of some very unusual beasts roaming there.”

He Kexin had expressed a mild interest in response to a storyteller’s tale, and naturally Lan Qiren’s brother whisked her away at once, her and all her friends that he always seemed to be paying for. Lan Qiren had thought that she kept them around her as a means of holding his brother off, but Zhang Xin had opined over a shared cup of tea that she thought He Kexin was treating the great and powerful Qingheng-jun as a convenient purse, that treating her friends to his largesse was the point and not the defense. 

Zhang Xin liked to hold forth on her views, forthright and unstoppable and loud, and Lan Qiren could see why Lan Yueheng constantly looked so infatuated whenever he gazed upon her – she was not dissimilar to one of the explosions he created in his alchemy laboratory. They were very well matched, and Lan Qiren deeply pitied whichever teacher got stuck with their eventual offspring, which he foresaw as being the least Lan sect juniors to have ever graced their ranks.

“Gone? I’ll see him when he comes back, then,” Lao Nie said, entirely unperturbed by such concerns. “Let me tell you about my son instead! He’s wonderful – a big, fat baby.”

Lan Qiren crossed his arms. “We can talk about your baby later. What about your wife?”

“A goddess!”

Perhaps he was going about this the wrong way, Lan Qiren mused. “Lao Nie,” he said. “What about Wen da-ge?”

Lao Nie blinked at him. “Hanhan? He’s doing well, too.”

Lan Qiren resisted the urge to strangle Lao Nie.

“Oh,” Lao Nie said, apparently figuring something out based on Lan Qiren’s sour expression. “You mean the fact that he’s angry at me?”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said patiently. “He’s very angry at you. Do you know why?”

“I’ve tried talking with him about it,” Lao Nie complained. “I don’t know why he’s being so stiff all of a sudden…it’s not like he doesn’t know what I’m like.”

This, Lan Qiren supposed, was definitely true.

“He thought of you as his,” Lan Qiren said. “Didn’t you know?”

Lao Nie shrugged, careless as a boar in full charge, heedless of the damage wrought around him as he moved through the world, none of which could penetrate his thick hide. “Of course. But being his doesn’t make me any less my own, and I can belong to others, too. Who’s he to tell me not to give myself where I will? Does he have dominion over me?”

“He doesn’t want dominion over you,” Lan Qiren said, and Lao Nie looked at him skeptically – which was fair enough. Wen Ruohan was possessed of a strong desire for domination, whether of people, places, or things; he truly believed all good things in the world ought to belong to him, and Lan Qiren only hoped that he never shifted over to thinking that he was actually the rightful owner of all things, for that path led inexorably to the reign of the tyrant. “Truly! Not over you, or any of the people close to his heart. If he wanted merely to possess you, he might as well try to snatch you off to his sect and give you his surname.”

“Not with the sort of relationship we have,” Lao Nie said, a smug smirk curling his lips. “If you know what I mean.”

Lan Qiren sighed. Truly, it was a pity to have reached the age in which everyone around him seemed to think of nothing but sex; he couldn’t wait until they were all too old for such things. Surely it couldn’t be that long…?

“You know what I mean,” he said patiently. “He’s not after Sect Leader Nie, not making some powerplay or attempting to seduce you in order to win your talents over. He likes you, Lao Nie, and all he expects from you is that you like him back.”

“I do!” Lao Nie protested. “I really do. He’s my darling Hanhan, isn’t he? He’s the one setting up walls between us, all because he’s gotten his feathers in a twist over something that’s really nothing. If it’s my time that he’s worried about splitting, what’s the surprise? My sect will always come first, as will his for him. I don’t even have a wife anymore!”

“You – don’t?” Lan Qiren stared, expression blanking out in his shock: this was not a piece of news that had reached his ears. He put down his teacup. “Lao Nie, if something happened –”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that,” Lao Nie said dismissively. “She’s a goddess, like I told you! She’s off and around, coming and going, everywhere and nowhere at once – how could my Nie sect hope to contain such a creature?”

“But…you married her?”

“So? Does that mean I need to live with her?”

Lan Qiren was truly taken aback. He had never heard of such an unorthodox arrangement. “You have a son together! Who is raising him?”

“Me, of course! With the aid of plenty of servants, naturally. I wouldn’t dream of tying her down…ah, Qiren, don’t look so shocked. We’re all our own people, with our own wants and desires. Sometimes those desires pair well, and you can live together happily and well for the rest of your lives; sometimes they don’t. If you fall for someone whose desires don’t line up to your own, you can still pursue something with them. That you wouldn’t match well in what’s considered the orothodox fashion is no reason not to match at all, not if there can be an unorthodox arrangement that causes no one any harm.”

“Are we still talking about your ‘goddess’ wife?” Lan Qiren asked. “Or Wen da-ge?”

Lao Nie smiled ruefully. That sharp cleverness that was always with him lingered in his eyes, having been hidden beneath his distraction and his infatuation and his deliberately careless manner. “I tried to tell him,” he said. “From the very beginning…I was the one doing the pursuing, you know. He didn’t even want me at the start. The stupid fool, he thought he’d be better off alone, alone with the cold delights of political power and the miserable fascinations of that Fire Palace of his, leaving no room in his heart for any human warmth at all. You know what they all say about him: that he lost something when he passed the boundaries of his first human lifetime, his cultivation so high as to make him closer to a god than a man.”

Lan Qiren had heard that, too. At the beginning, he’d seen what people meant, but later, once he got closer, he didn’t see it at all.

“Before I convinced him to have me, he was far worse,” Lao Nie said bluntly. “If you think he was bad when you were younger, you have no idea – forget putting you in a dollhouse and dressing you up to suit his whims over your complaints; if he’d wanted you alongside him back then, he wouldn’t have hesitated to carve out your soul and turn you into a heartless puppet instead. It wouldn’t have satisfied him, of course, and eventually he would have discarded you, never knowing why he couldn’t get what he wanted from you.”

“Know your own mind,” Lan Qiren quoted. “What he would have wanted was the heart, sincerely given, and yet that was the first part thrown away…but such a realization would be too late and too bad for the victim, even if he later regretted.”

“He didn’t regret much, when I first got to know him,” Lao Nie said. “Nothing but trouble, down to his bones; that’s what he was, and what he still is, really. Lucky for him, I like a bit of trouble.”

That was an understatement. Lao Nie liked a lot of trouble, the more the better; it was really no wonder that he’d attached himself to Wen Ruohan.

“I pursued him,” Lao Nie said, picking up the thread from where he’d left off. “I dug out all the human parts of him that I could from underneath that stiff and stern human mask of his, and in the end he wanted me, too. But throughout it all I told him, I told him, that I wasn’t free for the keeping – that I knew myself, with my nose for trouble and wickedness, that I’d never be satisfied with just the one. That the only one who’d ever have all of me was my saber, and only because she doesn’t want anything in return but blood. He liked that, once. He thought it was a good thing.”

Yes, Lan Qiren could see that. Especially in the beginning, Wen Ruohan would not have wanted someone who gave him everything; he was like a wild cat, standoffish with those that longed for him and close to those that rejected him. One of the most powerful cultivators, sect leader of the most powerful sect – if he wanted someone who would simper and flirt and yield for him, he could have a dozen at the blink of an eye.

Someone like Lao Nie, who had a firm sense of identity and neither needed nor wanted anything from the outside world, who was always truly fundamentally himself, was far more his style.

So was someone like Lan Qiren, for that matter. Uncompromising and strict, mind preoccupied with his idiosyncratic obsessions – Wen Ruohan had thought him interesting, for whatever reason, and in time had grown jealous of those other thoughts, longing to be counted among them.

Lan Qiren rubbed at his temples. “He always seemed to enjoy you going off with others,” he noted, wondering if Lao Nie had more insight into the matter. “Why is this different? He got married, too.”

“Hanhan’s tastes are changing as he remembers more of what it means to be human,” Lao Nie said thoughtfully, accepting more tea when Lan Qiren poured it out for him. “I only excavated the surface, the rough parts of him that suited my interests, and he was content with our relationship being friendly and casual. But for you he brought out his soft underbelly and the hint of civilization that he used to have, remembering what he used to be and the things he used to want…I see he even gave you some of his paintings.”

Lan Qiren looked where Lao Nie was looking and saw the two paintings on his wall by the mysterious artist. “His paintings..? He painted these? It doesn’t feel anything like him!”

“Trust me, his qi is unmistakable to one who’s known it as intimately as I have. It’s definitely him – though I’d say these paintings are nearly a century old. Can we say that we are the same people we were between yesterday and today? Even the course of the mighty river can shift over time.”

Lan Qiren was stuck looking at the paintings. Free, he’d said to Wen Ruohan, all unknowing. The person who painted these was free and happy. Their soul is like a falcon’s, tied down by nothing. 

For all the power and might that Wen Ruohan could bring to bear these days, Lan Qiren wouldn’t use any of those terms to describe him as he was now.

“He’ll forgive me,” Lao Nie said confidently, putting his cup down. “Give him time to remember why he liked me so much, remember all the warnings I gave him, and he’ll get over it. Maybe we’ll be a little less close than before, maybe there’ll be more anger and jealousy between us - at any rate, I haven’t pushed him so far to the brink that he would try to kill me to keep anyone else from having me, at least not yet. He’s just disappointed, that’s all. He’d only just realized that he wanted more when he realized he couldn’t get it.”

Lan Qiren nodded slowly. He thought that Lao Nie was right, although he also thought it was stupid of him to knowingly play with fire in such a brazen manner – Wen Ruohan really wouldn’t hesitate to murder a fellow sect leader, even one in another Great Sect, if he was determined enough, and he was smart and twisted enough to think of a way to get away with it, too.

Still, just as Lan Qiren had gotten over his feelings about Wen Ruohan’s inclination towards seeing torture and pain as entertainment, realizing that if he wanted him then he had to accept him as he was rather than rejecting him for it, Wen Ruohan would do the same for Lao Nie. He would remember what Lao Nie was like, what he’d always been like, and he would teach himself to appreciate those traits that he had once thought preferable, even as he resented them.

They’d get over this. Lan Qiren was sure of it.

What would come of it in the future, though...

“Anyway, I’ve dithered for long enough,” Lao Nie said. “I really only swung by briefly to say hello. I’m due at the Jin sect before the week’s out, and that means I have to go at once. Anything you want me to pass along to your lady-love rogue cultivator?”

“Leave Cangse Sanren alone, that’s what you can do for me,” Lan Qiren said. “Also, we’re still not lovers, nor will we ever be. Not everyone’s you!”

“No, they’re not,” Lao Nie said, grinning at him. “And that’s the way I like it – the richer the variety of the world, the more interesting people I can meet and be friends with, just like you.”

Lan Qiren was so overwhelmed by the compliment – he of course considered Lao Nie a friend of his, having as he did so many acquaintances and so few true friends, but he hadn’t realized that Lao Nie saw him as a genuine friend in return – that it didn’t even occur to him until it was too late that he hadn’t brought up the matter of his brother and He Kexin, nor told Lao Nie that he needed to stop his reckless encouragement of that relationship.

He’d tried to put that whole thing out of mind, Lan Qiren thought to himself with a sigh, and he’d succeeded – too well.

Whatever. His brother wouldn’t listen to their own sect elders, even as their exhortations shifted from encouragement to censure and their suggestions to leave it alone got more and more pointed, their interventions less and less subtle. Why would he listen to Lao Nie? 

He’d just go his own way and do what he wanted, no matter what.

Lan Qiren ought to learn from his example and put the whole thing aside, accepting the facts just as they were. He’d finally given up on the idea that he could help his sect through this moment of disaster - there would simply be nothing for it; they would have to stumble along without him or else force his brother to actually do his job, but in any event, it wasn’t his problem.

He was going to go - he was going to finally make his way out of the sect for his long-planned travel, and when he did, he wouldn’t need to worry about his brother, or He Kexin, or any of it.

Only a few more months from the date he’d informed the sect elders of, he thought, and this time he would stick to it, not delay. A few more months...he could even count the time in days, if he wished. 

His brother (and He Kexin) would return from their night-hunt in a few days, likely straight into the various elders’ less-than-subtle plans to find them and scold them over the whole thing. 

Lan Qiren would give his brother ten days after he returned - the same ten days his brother had given him - before he formally informed him that he was leaving.

It wouldn’t be long now.