#I don’t know how to get it out of my system

[musingsofheaven]

SO, ASL?

summary: You logged on for fun. Maybe a dumb convo because you fantasized sleep. Definitely not to let some stranger talk you to get wet. But here you are. Logged in. It’s fine. You’re fine. Just casually rubbing one out over a guy you don’t know while whispering “fuck me” into your own hand. But you are just a girl!

pairings: rafe cameron x afab!reader!

warnings: 3.6k words. mature themes. sexting format. masturbation (f solo, m implied). orgasm denial/control. explicit sexual language. intense dirty talk. exhibitionism-adjacent. anonymous chat. overstimulation. voice kink (implied). read responsibly.

notes: so this was supposed to be a tiny thing… like a silly idea that maybe stayed under 1k?? like just a little blurb to get out of my system. and then i started writing. and um. yeah. 😵‍💫 i wrote this while ovulating. which explains a lot. like… a lot a lot. and i know it’s kinda cringe (okay like really cringe) but listen… i literally couldn’t stop thinking about touching yourself to someone you’ve never even seen??? like??? that’s so unhinged. and so hot. and so girlcore™. 🥵🫣 anyway this is disgusting and i should be locked in a box but i hope u enjoy 🫶😻

You don’t usually do this.

Maybe you do that when you’re so fucked up, meaning too bored, too awake, too alone, or yeah. P.S. You’re not even really into anonymous chat stuff. But it’s 2:21 a.m., and you’ve been rolling around your bed, taking some melatonin, and even listening to asmr bullshit. Your bed feels shit right now, and your phone is useless because it’s not helping you to fall asleep. Your brain is spinning in that useless, itchy way when you’re overtired but still too wired to sleep.

You have also been scrolling for too long now. Friends are asleep. You don’t have someone to annoy while you’re awake. You’re not ready to read, watch, or do things. Now that you’re on the home page, type in one of those chat sites.

There’s a video chat option, but you chose the anonymous chat instead. Because... why not? Text only. No usernames. No cameras. Just with the thrill of matching with a stranger. Either you’ll match with someone good, or it’ll be mediocre, so skip it. Hit or pass, really.

You’ve just welcomed the typical page stating that you must be 18 or older, etc., rules that people won’t follow. Ultimately, a start button will be available, allowing you to click it.

Connecting you to someone…

You wait for it to load.

Then... there’s this classic: “You are now chatting with a random stranger.”

Stranger is typing...

Stranger: Hey, stupid question but

Stranger: If you have a flavor, what would it be

You blink. Yeah, it’s a fucking stupid question.

Then smiles.

You: That’s what you say to the conversation?

You: Not some typical age and gender?

Stranger: Yeah. But don’t say vanilla. I’ll block u

You: Wow, okay.

You: Hm... mine’s probably like matcha and cherry chapstick

Stranger: Okay slut

You snort. That will likely offend you greatly if you come here in a bad mood or with a bad attitude. But fine, since you’re bored, you’ll try to entertain yourself with this.

You: U?

Stranger: Probably Coke and whiskey

That makes perfect sense because Coke and whiskey are a good combination. It’s not Coke-like drugs, but Coca-Cola.

You: You mean the drink, right...?

Stranger: Right, right.

The conversation flows smoothly and unfolds quickly. It’s really funny and chaotic, honestly.

You talked about random things, mostly stupid things. We even had a fake fight about which pasta was the best. Your answer is carbonara. His is spaghetti. He admits to getting banned from Tinder for making his bio say, “just here to fuck and psychoanalysis how you after sex,” and people thought he was a poser or catfish too. Probably implying to you he looks good. It’s messy, stupid, and weirdly comfortable for two people who don’t know each other’s names.

You check the time. 3:37 a.m.

You: Damn, how are u still here?

Stranger: Insomnia. Boredom. Maybe because you make the conversation interesting

You: Wow. Smooth.

Stranger: I try

Stranger: Can I say something?

You: What something?

You: Do I wanna know?

Stranger: Depends on how lonely you are tonight

Your breath catches. Confused about what he meant. Ah, yes, you also exchanged information, but not in a too-personal manner. There’s a pause. You stare at the message. Like it knows something you don’t.

You: …say it

Stranger: I keep wondering what you taste like when you’re half-asleep and lazy about it

You freeze. It’s not some overreacting freeze; it’s more like staring dumbly at your screen.

You: Wow

Stranger: Too far?

You: A little bit

Stranger: If you wanna end the chat, it’s okay

You stare at the message. Like, really stare at it.

You could close the tab or end it intentionally. Perhaps you can thank me for the weird conversation and return to the part where you try (and fail) to sleep. You could reason out that you’ll do something. Or shut off your phone so you won’t get disconnected. You don’t even know what this guy looks like. You’ve never heard his voice. He could be a serial killer or what.

But you don’t close it.

You type instead.

You: Nah

You: Didn’t expect that ...://

Stranger: What did u expect

Stranger: U typed cherry chapstick like u weren’t tryna start shit earlier

You: Hey, I am genuine with that one

You: And maybe I was bored

Stranger: And now?

You: Still bored. just… warmer

Your heart skips a little after sending it. You don’t know why you admitted that. You know it’s true. You’re not really uncomfortable in the conversation. Honestly, you want to explore it more.

Stranger: Mmm

Stranger: Good

Stranger: Bored and warm’s a nice combo

Stranger: Makes people honest

You type and delete it. On his end, it keeps showing the stranger is typing. You don’t respond right away. You’re biting your lip. Tugging at your shirt. Your thighs press together without meaning to.

Stranger: Hey, cherry chopsticks

Stranger: Still there?

You: Yeah

Stranger: Wanna do something stupid with me?

God. You swallow. Okay, okay, that’s where you will draw the line! You will end it now. You swear. But it’s anonymous. It’s nothing. You’re never gonna meet this guy. You’re just killing time until sleep comes to you.

That’s all it is.

You: Okay

You: How stupid

Stranger: Tell me what you’re wearing

You stare at that message like it’s a trap. If you answer it, something irreversible will happen.

Because you could lie. Maybe lies about some information about what he’s asking. It’s not like he’s going to know. Say you’re wearing something sexy or perhaps lingerie. Just go thirst him more.

You could close the tab.

But you don’t.

You: Ugh

You: Shirt

Stranger: And?

You: Just a shirt and shorts, okay

Stranger: Nothing underneath?

You bite the inside of your cheek. You hate that he guessed that. Maybe it’s too obvious. Most women don’t prefer not to sleep with a bra on.

You: I didn’t plan on chatting with strangers tonight, lol

Stranger: I didn’t plan on jerking off with strangers tonight either, but here we are

You feel your stomach flip. Not in a gross way. Not in a warning way. Just… dizzy. It feels buzzing and hot, that kind.

You: You’re really doing that? haha

Stranger: My hand’s been in my sweats for like 10 mins now

Stranger: You’re hot

Stranger: Even without a face

You don’t know what to say to that. It’s unhinged. It’s... fuck, you never get to that point before when you’re on this site. When they start saying things like this, you’ll end the chat. No one’s ever said it like that. Maybe there is. But not precisely, you encountered it.

You: You’re crazy

Stranger: A little

Stranger: Wanna help me?

You feel your legs shift again, shut them close, rubbing them together a little more. Feel your skin heated. You shouldn’t want this. You shouldn’t be doing this.

But god, you’re so bored. And tired. And warm. And trembling already.

You: Okay

Stranger: Yeah?

You: Yeah

You: Tell me what to do

Stranger: Take the shirt off

You: What if I’m cold lol

Stranger: Bet your nipples are already hard anyway, so it doesn’t matter

Stranger: I wanna picture it

You: You’re fucked up

You: That’s... ugh

Stranger: Yeah

Stranger: So, take it off

You do. Fuck. You could just say in the chat that you did it even though you didn’t. But your fingers shake a little. You followed what he said and threw your shirt somewhere in your bed. Your screen lights your bare skin faintly, shadows moving across your chest when you shift. You know he can’t see you. That’s what makes it worse. Or better.

You: Okay, it’s off

Stranger: Fuck

Stranger: You are touching yet?

You: No

You: I was waiting for you to say it

Stranger: Good girl

Stranger: Put your fingers in your mouth first

You: ?

Stranger: Wanna imagine how wet you are before you even touch

Stranger: And bet your mouth’s drooling just thinking about it

Your thighs press together again, just trying to get pressure from the tiny movement. You don’t even realize you’re doing it until you read that again and go still.

You: I hate you

Stranger: Do it

You: Did

You: Uhm, fingers...

You: Wet

Stranger: Fuck

Stranger: Now rub

You insert your hand underneath your shorts and panties. You did what he instructed you, slowly and lazily, as if your body was being controlled by him. Just barely tracing your clit. It’s not even good yet. You’re just testing the water at this point.

You: Mmm

Stranger: Yeah?

Stranger: Fuck yourself a little

You: 2 fingers

You: Ugh

Stranger: Bet it’s tight

Stranger: Fuck, I wanna ruin you

Stranger: Throat, pussy, whatever you’ll give me

Stranger: I wanna keep you fucked out and dumb all night

Stranger: Ruin you till you forget your own name

Your breath stutters. You press your palm down and try not to moan even though there’s no one around to hear.

You: Say more

You: Pls

You’re hardly able to type. You’re already breathless, hand sliding wetly between your thighs again, screen dimmed just enough to feel this is wrong, like a secret, like you’re not totally exposed. Your pulse jumps as his typing bubble appears.

Stranger: Wanna pin you down

Stranger: Make you gag on my cock while you finger yourself

Stranger: Fuck your throat till you cry

Stranger: And then stuff your cunt so full you can’t even think

Stranger: Going to fuck you raw

Stranger: I’d spit on you and make you say thank you

Stranger: I’d keep going even when you say you can’t

You just stare at his multiple messages as if he knows it’s turning you on reading them. You are probably imagining it already with some faceless man in your head. Your stomach flips. Your legs are already shaking, two fingers deep and dripping. You whimper as you type, back arching off the bed.

You: Fuuuck

Stranger: Yeah?

Stranger: How deep are your fingers right now

Stranger: Tell me

Your eyes move from the phone to your hand as your knuckles and palms glisten. Your inner thighs are sticky, messy, and flushed.

You: Knuckles

You: Palm, maybe

You: I’m fucking wet

You: Pls

You: It’s so messy rn

Your hand’s already so soaked. Your fingers are curled tight inside you, clenching each time you thrust it smoothly and to your liking. You’re making a mess of the sheets, thighs sticky, flushed everywhere. You don’t even want to look down because it’s humiliating how wet you are. How much you need him to keep talking. Humiliating because you're being spoken to in such a manner by a stranger.

Stranger: God, I’d bury my face in it

Stranger: Tongue all over your clit

Stranger: Going to suck your clit and kiss your slit

Stranger: Fuck you with it until you scream

Stranger: Eat you til you sob for it

Stranger: Like it’s the last meal I’ll ever have

You whine, thighs closing together. Trapping your hand between it. You’re already beating and twitching around your fingers just from reading it. You imagine it.  His mouth is hot and open against you, messy and greedy, his grip bruising your hips as he eats you while you’re grinding into his mouth.

Your legs are trembling. Your clit is throbbing, aching, begging for touch.

And your fingers are still knuckle deep inside your cunt and still thrusting lazily, just enough to get pleasure. So yeah, you’re completely fucked because words shouldn’t do this to you, but you’re so horny, and he needs to scratch the itch.

You: You’re disgusting

Stranger: You like it tho

Stranger: Your pussy’s dripping all over your fingers, rn.

You: No

You: Shut up

You: You’re not even real

You don’t know why you said that. That he’s not real. Maybe because you know after this, you’ll end the chat. Forget him. That this is just one wild bored moment, and you just got horny. But he is. He’s real in your phone and the cause of the slick between your legs. He’s real in how you’re grinding into your hand and trying to get off.

Stranger: I’m hard as fuck rn

Stranger: Stroking slow

Stranger: Rubbing the pre to the tip

Stranger: Thinking about your cunt choking my fingers

Your breath hitch. You’re clenching down around nothing now because you pull out your fingers before sliding wetly back in with your wrist trembling, whole body hot, and legs shaking a little.

You want him here in your bed so bad it fucking makes you almost type if he wants to meet up right now. You don’t even know if you’re in the same state or even the same country. You want his fingers inside you instead. You know it’s longer, thicker, and rougher. You want his knuckles brushing against your clit as he thrusts it in, fuck, how will he sound when he whispers in your ear? His hand is holding your wrist down when you twitch, from how much it’s all too much.

You: I can’t stop

You: It’s so warm

Stranger: Rub your clit

Stranger: Just one finger

Stranger: Go slow

One finger on your clit. Just like he said.

You do. You listen and switch from fingers inside to rubbing your clit. That stupid little part of you that never listens to men like this fuck, you never liked to be told what to do, never talks to men like this. That part of you? She’s gone. She drowned in slick, in the low beating of your own pulse pounding between your thighs.

You whimper, actually whimper out loud while you follow him, legs twitching. Your soaked fingers are still on your clit, and when you circle it over and over, your eyes roll. Your back arches just a little. You’re so far gone, and it’s actually embarrassing and disgusting. Thighs jerking every time his messages pop up. He’s just words on a screen, but fuck... making you get off. It’s so dumb how good it feels. How this stranger, this faceless, nameless boy, has you folding like this.

You’re soaked. You’re dripping. And you’re still not close to done.

Stranger: Still holding it?

Stranger: Be good for me

Shit. Be good for him? Why he’s talking like that. Why he’s praising you. You don’t even answer. You are nod like he can see you. You know he didn’t. You know he’s not here. You bite the edge of your blanket and rub tighter circles, trying to keep your hips from lifting and grinding at it.

You type with one hand, fingers almost slipping, and the phone nearly falling to your face. You can’t even type properly

You: Mmm i cant take jt

You: Pleaseplease csn i cum

You: So vlose

Stranger: Fuck

Stranger: Okay

Stranger: Cum for me, baby

Fuck. Then after his permission you come. So hard you choke on it. A sob in your throat, your body folding, shuddering. Your legs are kicking out under the blanket. Hitting it left to right. You can’t even manage to stay still. Your toes are curling, too.

You: Fucfkkk

Your hand’s still between your legs. You’re soaked, your thighs, your fingers still twitching like they still want something. Your chest is panting a little while your eyes are closed and open; you don’t know what to do.

Stranger: That was so hot

Stranger: You still there?

You didn’t reply for a moment and let yourself catch your breath. Thank fuck for your good connection because you’re not disconnecting from this chat while you’re not replying. Your hand’s still gone, but you haven’t moved it yet. There’s heat trapped everywhere, in your neck, in your hips, curling lazy and slick between your thighs like you’re still trembling from it.

Your legs are like a bent spring. Your chest’s rising too fast. The screen’s glowing beside you, still waiting.

You: Did u cum too ...?

You typed out. I didn’t know why you were even concerned about it. For fuck all you know, he’s not really doing anything. But you can’t help but get curious. You imagine him leaning back, spent, his lips parted just a tiny bit, probably still holding his phone in one hand while the other one is sticky, especially in his pal.

Stranger: Yeah

Stranger: It got on my screen, lol

You cover your cheek with your blanket, feeling embarrassed by his message. Maybe you’re blushing, not that you notice it. You’ll just disguise it as your body’s reaction to your orgasm.

You: Gross

But you’re smiling, biting the corner of your bottom lip. It’s that dumb smile, even though your fingers are damp and you haven’t moved an inch. There’s something about the fact that he came, too. Perhaps you feel reassured knowing that he enjoyed it too. Somehow. Like, wow, you really did that. From just chatting with him, or probably he’s already too horny, so it’s inevitable. Not that you care much about it.

You: You’re disgusting

Stranger: You liked it

Stranger: Admit it

You: Maybe

You: Shut up

Your thighs flutter again. You roll onto your side, toes tracing the sheets as if they’ll do anything to cool you down.

Stranger: Can’t stop picturing you

Stranger: Bet you looked so fucking pretty cumming

You take a deep breath. You let your fingers away from your cunt and from the slick of your inner thighs. There’s a burning in your ears like it depends on how he messages you, and it’s not even yours anymore. It’s him, somehow. It depends on every line he types and how he describes it.

Fuck. That was disgusting. Do you literally think about that? Boredom will lead you to do things you will not return for. Like this one. Particularly this one, yeah.

You: You’re actually gross

Stranger: And you still didn’t skip

Stranger: An hour ago, you said you were bored

Stranger: Still bored?

You: No lol

You: Kinda feel like I need sleep now

You: Maybe I need to touch myself to fall asleep

He doesn’t reply. Well, at least not quickly, as he always does throughout your conversation. You almost think he left, that it’s over, that he got what he wanted, he cummed, got dirty, and satisfied his horniness like most guys on here do. However, the bubble then pops back up.

Stranger: Hey

Stranger: This is gonna sound dumb, but

Stranger: Wanna exchange socials?

Oh. You blink. Once. Twice. Then again. You just stared at it for a while. Your body’s still high from earlier, flushed and naked under the sheets, and now your heart and stomach are doing that stupid flip thing. Nervous. Overthinking. Fuck.

Stranger: You don’t have to btw

Stranger: But I liked talking to you

Stranger: Not just the… yk

You are still not replying; you are just still biting your lip. Shit. You should end the chat now. You swear that this was it. That’s it. Yeah. Never exchange social media with them, as you always do. The part swears it’s just for fun, just for the night, that gets off and signs out. She’s quiet now. Real quiet. Like she’s mute.

You: Maybe

You: Depends on what ur profile looks like

You: If we’re ugly, I’m blocking u on everything

Stranger: Bold of you to assume I’m not hot

Stranger: I’ll send mine first

You: …fine

You: But if you catfish me, I’m calling the FBI

Stranger: Deal

Stranger: Here’s my IG

Stranger: @rafe.cameron

He drops the username without hesitation. He’s so sure of himself that women will enjoy what they see. They will het flutter if they talk to a stranger who looks like that.

You stare at it. Just wondering if it’s really his or if he just randomly drops someone’s handle. Your fingers hover. You haven’t even typed yours yet.

You: Oh

You: You are so unserious

Stranger: Dead serious, actually

Stranger: Go look

Stranger: I’ll wait

Curiosity wins.

It always does.

Curiosity kills the cat, they say.

You can quickly switch tabs and open Instagram from there. Your brain is still dumb and high off him, of how he talked to you like you were his, like your noises were made for him.

Paste his handle in the search, wait for it to load, and then view his profile. And then...

“Oh fuck,” you whisper to yourself like anyone’s here to hear it. Like anyone could possibly believe this shit. Like you are talking to him.

Jesus. Is this really him?

Like, him him. Tan lines and dark hair. A jaw looks too good, which makes you want to lick it. One too many shirtless mirror pics in his highlights and a follower count that makes your stomach drop.

Rafe Cameron.

You: What the fuck

You: What the actual fuck

You: Ur famous

You: You have many followers

That is him. Right? But you still doubt it, kinda. The guy who made you cum with just his chat. Who called you baby. Who told you how pretty you sounded when you begged.

You scroll. Just once. To check the preview of what his feed will look like. Just enough to feel your thighs press tighter together before you go back to the site to check his profile.

Stranger: Follow me

Stranger: I’ll follow back

Stranger: Don’t act shy now

Stranger: You literally came just talking to me

Stranger: And now you’re embarrassed?

Your cheeks heated. You move under the covers as if it will do shit, like you’re not already wet again, just reading his tone.

You: I didn’t think you were real

You: Like a normal person

You: Not some…

You stop. Don’t even finish the thought. He’s enough to ruin you. Smug enough to know it.

You: I hate you

Stranger: No, you don’t

Stranger: I’ll be in your head for days

He already is. And this shit makes you want to actually talk to him. Maybe you’re more attracted to him now.

You pause. Hesitant for a moment. Then you follow him.

Three seconds later:

@rafe.cameron followed you back

Oh. That’s really him. Shit. That’s really him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  Your stomach flips. Your skin crawls on your body.

Stranger: There we go

Stranger: Night baby

You: Fuck off

You managed to say that before “Stranger has disconnected” shows the screen. You left the site and went to Instagram to stalk him again. You’re smiling. Well, not really. You’re more likely grinning. You’re still heated and wet. Your panties are soaked around one ankle like some whorey medal you are showing. You’re too busy staring at his name.

Rafe fucking Cameron.

It sounded too sexy. His name will probably sound more sexy when you moan it. Your pussy spasms like it remembers every second since his words slid into your head, every word typed out by some cocky stranger that was too full of himself.

You open his profile again.

It’s worse the second time. This time. The tagged photos, the stories, every new picture sends a fresh jolt to your cunt like you’re putting it on an electric socket. Thirst traps on yachts. It’s a beach pic with his hand in some girl’s waist, but it’s just a back photo. Jesus fuck, that mirror selfie. He’s in the bathroom. The towel is so low that it’s showing his v line. Fuck... The body is well-defined but not excessively muscular. Just enough to catch women’s attention.The caption?

@rafe.cameron: Just showered. Missed a spot?

You choke on your spit in your mouth. Literally choke. Your pussy flutters like it knows he meant you.

Your finger twitches, and you tap through the highlights like it’s some boudoir folder, and every image makes your pussy clench harder. His jawline. That golden skin. His hands hang low near his hips like he knows exactly where you want them.

God. You hate him. Hate that he made you come to chat. Hate that he’s so attractive. Hate him. That is concerning to feminists because you want him to fuck you like some whore. Hate that your cunt’s still greedy, still wanting for more, that your hand is already creeping back to your tits as it belongs there.

But it doesn’t stay long there; your hand moves lower in a slow, familiar feeling taking over. Your fingers dip between your legs, tracing the mess he left behind. You’re so wet it’s embarrassing. It’s slippery, soaked, and obscene.

Your thumb circles your clit once. You shiver, and you press harder before rubbing faster. Then, because you’re disgusting and already past the part where you will pretend you’re not sexually attracted,, and horny again, your fingers slide inside like they’ve been waiting forever.

You moan. Soft, shaky, breathless right into the empty room. The stretch around your pussy is perfect, especially since you haven’t touched yourself recently. It feels like you’ve been aching for it. You imagine it’s him. His fingers, long and rough and thick, whispering... Already dripping? Jesus, baby. What’d I do to you?

You grind up into your own hand like a bitch in heat. From the first grind, it’s already slick and more filthier. Your fingers work in the push and pull, in and out, while your thumb rubs your clit just enough, maybe just some flicks. Your phone still glows in your other hand, his face watching you fall apart from that one Instagram post. Smiling, all sun-bleached confidence and a hot body.

It’s like you’re stalking him because of something. Maybe the idea of his picture staring at you excites you. Want him to see this. It is to know how fast you get worked up. That he made you finger yourself with just one sentence and a username.

Your legs start shaking. You’re so fucking close.

That made you zoom in on his pictures. Zooming is the area where you get turned on the most. And shit, every new image makes your pussy clench harder. Made you pump your fingers harder, faster. Made you panting quietly and try to stay quiet.

And when you come? It’s something. Sloppy. A wet rush that makes your fingers slip, and your hips shake and thrust forward repeatedly. You moan into the pillow, biting it, praying no one hears. It’s loud. Ugly. The kind of orgasm that leaves you twitching, gasping, some post-nut clarity.

When you finally stop, you’re limp. A little. Your thighs managed to get tired this time. And your wrist, too. You lie there, still flushed and soaked, panties bunched around your ankle like a trophy. Tits out. Hair matted to your forehead.  Your body slacks with leftover heat. Your fingers are still slick and sticky. Your phone is still open to his account, a disgusting mess of slick thighs and a shameful self.

You don’t chat with him like he expected you to. Well, it’s not that you are expecting him to think that. No. Well, maybe a little.

If you close the app like that, it will help you erase what happened. Like whoever god there didn’t already see you finger yourself hard over some pictures of a stranger you met from that shitty site.

Jesus fucking Christ.

What was that?

Seriously. What the actual fuck was that.

And you stare at the ceiling, half sleepy, flushed, pussy still quivering like it’s got a mind of its own. Chest rising like you just got hit by a truck full of shame.

Your clit’s still throbbing.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, like maybe God’s taking calls tonight.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓© 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐜𝐨���𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

[lovelake]

In which you find out who the person leaving you continuous love letters is and return the gesture

solivan brugmansia x gn!reader | 1.7k wc, fluff, reader is friendly, awkwardness, nervousness, hyugo’s very involved, deryl and geo (briefly, just in the background), tiny implication of masturbation if you squint

note: i felt a little iffy writing about lockers because they’re uni students but that’s how it is in the game so (ᵕ—ᴗ—) this was supposed to be out while most people were still in college (because i think people in the semester system are already out for break) but i didn’t make it in time </3 as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated

masterlist read on ao3

Lately, your existence has been put on the same pedestal as that of everything beautiful in the world.

You’ve been getting love letter after love letter ever since Valentine’s Day. At first, you thought it was some sort of misunderstanding—they got the wrong locker. It wasn’t until certain details in them were specific to you that you finally got the message across. This secret admirer really was yours.

You picked up on quirks in the handwriting after rereading them so many times. Separated letters frequently molded into random strings of cursive. The horizontal lines on the t’s are low, they look like upside down crosses. 

If the writing itself wasn’t sweet enough, there were also doodles left on the margins and corners. Flowers, hearts, and oddly enough, pumpkins. 

Life was more fun with romantic secrecy in the air.

Sometimes it was embarrassing, though. You’d trip, drop a paper, or miss a shot of a wrapper to a trash can—and your mind would immediately go to, did they see that?

The question hovered over your head for months like a cloud. Who are they? 

—

“Don’t eat so close to me,” Sol mumbled to Hyugo, angling himself away as he continued writing. He didn’t want the wind to blow any crumbs onto his paper.

“Another letter? You’re so romantic, Sunny! It almost makes me lose my appetite.”

Yes and no. It was a letter for you, but essentially, it was just a draft for now.

“Do you think it’s working?” Sol asked with a sigh, vulnerability in his question.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t. Have you seen their reaction to finding one in their locker?”

“A couple times.”

“And?”

“They were smiling.” Sol’s own answer prompted a faint one to form on his face.

Love and commitment wove through each and every word until the end result was practically a written serenade for you, and only you.

—

Whether by sheer luck or fate, you didn’t have to do any snooping to find who your secret admirer is. The answer came to you.

“Pass your homework towards the front of the class.”

Stuck in the very first row, you patiently waited until you were tapped on the shoulder and given a stack of completed homework.

As you were making the stack look presentable, you noticed a familiar looking ‘t’ on the title of the last paper. No way. Was the person sending love letters in this class? They had to be sitting at the very back if so.

Knowing their name wouldn’t help, you didn’t know anybody in this class because group activities weren’t required.

Acting nonchalant, you stretched your back from side to side and took the opportunity to look behind you. But you couldn’t really see because of all the people in your way. 

Next idea. You “accidentally” dropped your pencil and leaned over in your chair to catch a glimpse. 

Their head rested snugly against their forearm, you couldn’t see their face. Black and dark green long sleeves, that’s all you were getting. Okay, you could wait until class ended for the mystery to be revealed.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The clock mocked your excitement for approximately fifty-five torturous minutes. 

Class ended, students scrambled.

After quickly gathering your things into your arms, you (not very discreetly) turned around. There was no reason to, there were two doors and you usually went out the front one since it was close to you.

But only in this way were you able to fully look at the person who’s been making even the shittiest of weeks feel better.

Tall, pierced ears and lips, eyelashes that look long even from a distance…

Your secret admirer is handsome in a pretty sort of way. Even so, he looks like someone who would give his crush a necklace with his blood in it rather than lovey-dovey letters. 

You must’ve been awe-struck for too long, time slowed.

As soon as he caught on to your staring (gawking), he immediately walked out of the room, leaving his friend talking to no one. “…and then–huh? Sunny? Sunny! How rude…”

“No fair. You have long legs, you walk faster than me.” Hyugo eventually caught up to Sol. Their lockers were next to one another’s.

Sol’s body felt hot. You had looked at him with intent for the first time ever, not just an accidental glance or something. He tried to compose himself as he opened his locker to put one of his books away.

Were you finally noticing him? He had so much love to offer, all you had to do was embrace the soul that was so willing to give it to you.

“…I have to use the restroom.” He most certainly does not, at least not in the way it’s intended to be used.

In the midst of being over the moon, he failed to see that you were nearby.

You know where his locker is.

Now there’s only two things left to do.

—

i. WRITE HIM A LETTER

Now back at home, you felt insecure. Just a bit. All his letters were beautiful: nice expensive looking paper, sentences all in pen (somehow he never made a single mistake, there were never any words scribbled out), and lived in envelopes that had pretty dark red wax seals prior to you opening them.

Well. You didn’t have any envelopes. Your paper was college ruled with three holes on the left. Your pen was gel-point and smeared when you wrote too fast. And, you didn’t have any white-out in case you made a mistake.

“This is silly.” You tell yourself, shaking away your doubts and picking the pen back up. 

You didn’t harbor the same feelings that he did to you, how could you, when you barely came to know of his existence? Either way, his letters always left you feeling giddy. And who knows, maybe a potential future relationship awaited you.

So, you got to writing. 

ii. DELIVER IT TO HIS LOCKER (GONE WRONG)

Time passed by ever so slowly the next day, it always did when you had something to look forward to. Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach, concentrating in class was hard, especially the one you shared with him.

You waited until the end of school, the letter already in your hand as you (hesitantly) made your way there. If anything, it looked like you were holding a folded graded assignment with a big giant F on it, nobody would suspect it.

“Hey, maybe that’s another letter for you Geo! Your locker’s full again isn’t it? Have you even gone through them?”

“Be quiet.”

They couldn’t be talking about you. They just couldn’t.

Thankfully, those guys turned a corner. It would’ve been awkward if you all kept walking the same way. And who’s Geo, anyway? Is he really that popular?

You leaned against the wall, your other hand preoccupied by your phone as you waited for the after school crowd to die out. Checking the time, you had a tutoring session upstairs in ten minutes.

Eventually, the only footsteps you could hear were distant. Putting your phone away, you swallowed your nerves and approached his locker.

Well, here goes nothing.

You start slipping it in. 

Somehow, your body flinches before your hearing processes anything.

“Woah! Is that a letter for Sunny?”

Shit. 

Wide-eyed, you looked over. The letter was still in your hands, only the tip of it was rammed into the locker ventilation hole. 

Day one of trying to mimic your secret admirer and you already failed. 

Just your luck, his best friend was here too. Even so, you could only focus on him. His expression matched yours, but his was from being incredibly flustered rather than embarrassment from being caught.

You didn’t know what to say, only one word slipped from your lips.

“…Hi.” 

Hi.

Hi?

Hi?!

“Hi!” Hyugo greeted you back with a grin and wave, catching your attention for a split second. Like the good best friend he was, he nudged Sol your way. 

Looks like he was too stunned to talk, you’d have to break the ice more. All the words he held right now, you were sure you’d already read them all.

You brought the letter back down.

“I may have…figured out that you were the person sending me letters. Unless I’m wrong! And in that case I can leave and…” 

“How’d you figure out it was me?” 

Surprisingly, his voice is soft. 

“Because of your t’s.”

“…My t’s?”

“Yeah. You write them differently. Not differently in a bad way! Just…I’ve never really seen anyone write them the way you do.”

One of his brows raised. You thought you offended him until he smiled. That alone put you at ease.

“This is for you,” you handed the letter to him. His fingertips briefly kissed your skin.

The paper didn’t so much as crinkle in his hold, he was being gentle. You were grateful he wasn’t bold enough to start reading it on the spot, you would die.

He opened his locker with his free hand and fetched a crumpled-looking paper. He stammered a bit over his words as he held it out to you. “It’s…It’s not done yet.”

It was a draft full of scribbles and crossed out words. So, he did make mistakes. Just that he worked on a draft before putting everything onto the fancier paper. Somehow, that just made his gestures all the sweeter. 

“I think this one will be my favorite,” you tell him, no sarcasm present.

You were kind and welcoming, exactly what he needed in a world such as this.

"I love-" Sol's overly strong confession was interrupted by Hyugo elbowing him.

Finding a clock on the wall, you curse under your breath. “I have to go catch a tutoring session but it was nice finally meeting you. What’s your name?”

“You can just call me Sol.”

“See you tomorrow, Sol!” 

You repeated his name under your breath over and over to commit it to memory as you walked away. “Sol, Sol, Sol…” 

He was stuck in place, never taking his gaze off you until you turned the corner. Your voice echoed in his head, a catchy melody he would never tire of. 

See you tomorrow, you said. Like you would be talking to him from now on. Like you wouldn’t be put off by him casually approaching you. Like you were friends now.

Hyugo lightly pinched Sol’s arm, he got no response.

Sol looked down at the letter, he was holding something sacred—you put thought into it, something in your possession (your pen) had touched it, your fingerprints were all over it. Does this count as indirect hand-holding?

He needed to read it, and he would, once in private.

“Let me see, let me see!”

“Touch it and I’ll kill you.” 

“…Jeez, and then who’ll clean up all your messes?”

[brookghaib-blog]

The Weight of Familiar Things

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x reader

Summary: After breaking up in high school, Y/N had never really moved on from the best relationship of her life with Bob after he disappear out of thin air. While working on her shift, Bob reappears the same away he went away.

Word Count: 3,4k

--

The store buzzed softly with the usual low hum of midweek monotony — the steady beep of barcode scanners, the distant whirr of the refrigerator units near the dairy aisle, and the occasional squawk from the ancient intercom that insisted on cutting off half of every announcement.

Y/N stood at the express register, elbows resting on the cool laminate counter as she lazily spun the lid of a half-full bottle of Gatorade she’d stashed behind the till. The clock above the frozen foods section blinked indifferently — 4:07 PM. Still three more hours until she could bolt out of here, rip off the stiff red vest with the faded name tag, and try to salvage enough brainpower for a database systems assignment.

Her shift had been... tolerable. Not slow enough to be bored, but not busy enough to lose herself in the chaos either. Just a constant trickle of shoppers with shopping carts full of existential dread and discount coupons.

“You will not believe what just happened in aisle six,” came the dramatic whisper of Meg, her bestie and co-worker, who appeared from around the shelf like a gossip-hungry ninja.

Y/N straightened up, instantly suspicious. “What now?”

Meg leaned against the counter with all the grace of a wounded goose and sighed deeply, like she was about to recount war crimes. “So, I’m helping Mrs. Kowalski pick out a gluten-free cereal because her nephew has, like, six allergies, and suddenly this dude — I swear to you, hand to my future nutrition degree — this absolute menace shows up and starts harassing everyone in the cereal aisle.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait, like, harassing how?”

Meg rolled her eyes so hard it looked like she might pass out from the effort. “Like ‘hey, girl, are you cereal? Because I wanna eat you for breakfast’ kind of harassing. To Mrs. Kowalski. Who is, like, seventy and barely understands what a protein bar is.”

Y/N nearly snorted out her drink. “No. He did not.”

“He did!” Meg stabbed a finger at the air. “And then when she looked confused and kind of alarmed, he tried to recover by saying she had a ‘youthful aura’ and asked if she believed in reincarnation because he thinks they met in a past life.” Meg paused, raised an eyebrow. “In ancient Egypt. I wish I was making this up.”

Y/N was wheezing now, covering her mouth to avoid attracting customer attention. “Was he on something?”

“I don’t know, but if he was, I want a refund for him because whatever it was clearly failed.” Meg looked genuinely insulted on behalf of humanity. “I told him he had five seconds to get his Tutankhamun-loving ass out of the cereal aisle before I got Jason from produce to ‘escort’ him.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N giggled, leaning over the counter as if it helped her breathe better through the laughter. “You didn’t.”

“I did. Jason threatened to hit him with a bunch of unripe bananas. It was poetic.” Meg smiled smugly, brushing invisible dust off her shoulder like she was a bouncer at a nightclub instead of a student in a grocery vest.

Y/N wiped her eyes. “And this all happened during your gluten-free consultation?”

“Oh, Mrs. Kowalski was living for the drama,” Meg said, lowering her voice. “She literally asked me if she could follow me on Instagram after. Said I had ‘star energy.’ I think I accidentally became her new granddaughter.”

“That’s better than when she told me I look like someone who forgets to eat lunch.”

Meg clutched her chest. “Ouch. Brutal. But also accurate.”

“Rude.” Y/N narrowed her eyes but smiled. “Anyway, are you sure this guy left? I don't want to deal with some reincarnated cereal prophet asking me if I believe in destiny while I'm trying to stock the frozen waffles.”

Meg gestured dramatically toward the front doors. “Gone. Jason banana-walked him out. One of the little kids clapped.”

They both laughed again, louder this time, drawing a suspicious glance from Dan, the thirty-something manager who took his job too seriously and wore khakis like a lifestyle. He always hovered just a little too close to the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt like it was a police badge.

“Act busy,” Y/N hissed.

Meg grabbed a roll of receipt paper and pretended to read the ingredients printed on the cardboard core. “Wow. 100%... pulp.”

Y/N bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

The moment passed, and Meg leaned against the counter again, looking more relaxed. “Hey, you okay today?” she asked quietly, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “You’ve been zoning out between customers like you’re trying to access a hidden file in your brain.”

Y/N sighed. “Just school stuff. I’ve got a network systems quiz tomorrow, and I think I forgot how logic gates work.”

“You’re too smart,” Meg said. “I read a label backward today and got excited that I can still read.”

“I’d trade my brain for your social skills and sense of self-worth.”

“I’d trade my lungs for a nap.” Meg sighed. “And maybe a boyfriend. Or at least someone taller than a bag of dog food.”

Y/N smirked. “You’re setting the bar low, huh?”

“I’m setting the bar realistic,” Meg said. “You ever lifted a 50-pound sack of kibble? That’s some sturdy energy. I want a man who could stop a shopping cart with one hand and still help me study anatomy later, if you know what I mean.”

Y/N made a choking noise. “You’re disgusting.”

Meg grinned. “You love me.”

Y/N shook her head, but she did. She really did. Somehow, amidst their shared suffering at the mercy of impatient customers and barcode scanners, they’d built a friendship that made even the worst shifts manageable.

Just then, the front door sensors gave a low chime as someone new entered the store.

Meg peered over Y/N’s shoulder, then leaned in again. “Oh. Speaking of kibble-worthy men…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Don’t say it—”

“Tall. Brown hair. Weird posture. Looks like he doesn’t know how to buy cereal either. Wanna bet if he’s gonna ask about reincarnation?”

Y/N followed her gaze toward the cereal aisle.

Y/N squinted toward the cereal aisle as Meg leaned in like a commentator at a fashion show.

“Tall,” Meg whispered. “He’s wearing... what is that? Cargo pants? And—yep, oversize sweater that looks big even on his hands. Tell me that doesn’t scream your exact type.”

Y/N huffed. “You think every man is my type if he’s above six feet and looks like he hasn’t slept in three days.”

“Because those are the men who write poetry about you in the dark,” Meg said, eyes narrowed like a seer. “That guy? He looks like he’s been through something. Like he owns exactly one bowl and stares out the window when it rains.”

Y/N tilted her head again. The man — tall, broad, messy hair that looked like he ran his hand through it too often, faint stubble on his jaw — was crouched in front of the granola. Not really inspecting brands. More like… zoning out. His hand hovered over a box, then pulled back.

And there was something about him. Something familiar.

“I… I think I know him,” Y/N muttered, brow furrowed.

Meg gasped. “Wait. Seriously? You dated someone with main character hair and didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t know if I dated him—! I said he looks familiar. Like I’ve seen him before. But I can’t place it.” Y/N crossed her arms. “Maybe from campus? Or a lab partner from freshman year?”

Meg wiggled her eyebrows. “Lab partner turned life partner, let’s goooo.”

Y/N gave her a look. “Meg, he’s buying cereal.”

“And we sell hope. Don’t kill the vibe.”

The two broke into giggles again, their laughter light in the otherwise empty front end of the store. Dan was thankfully nowhere in sight, probably grilling someone in frozen foods about FIFO rotation again. The store was in its sleepy lull between the after-school snack rush and the post-commute dinner crowd, which meant just enough time for existential dread or flirting, whichever came first.

A few minutes later, the man — still slightly hunched, as if he hadn’t fully adapted to existing in public — approached Y/N’s register with a small wire basket.

She straightened up automatically, scanning him as professionally as she could. The basket only held a few items: a loaf of multigrain bread, two cups of plain Greek yogurt, and a small bundle of bananas. Not even the good kind of snacky grocery run. It looked… survivalist.

Up close, he looked even more out of place. Handsome, definitely, but not polished. Like he had been handsome by accident, without any effort or maintenance. His hoodie had a tear near the left cuff. His knuckles looked bruised.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gravel-soft and low. “Just these.”

Y/N smiled politely, fingers moving to scan the items. “No problem.”

There was a brief, awkward pause.

She glanced up. He was watching her — not in a creepy way, but like he was trying to solve a puzzle. And for some reason, that expression made the back of her neck tingle.

“You look… really familiar,” she said before she could stop herself.

He blinked. Then gave a small, lopsided smile. “Yeah. I was gonna say the same.”

There was another second of hesitation — and then he set the basket down fully, like he was settling into the moment. “Y/N L/N, right?”

She stiffened a little. “Wait—what?”

“I’m Bob,” he said, slow and unsure, almost like it felt foreign coming out of his mouth. “Bob Reynolds. We… used to date. Back in high school.”

A beat passed.

A very long beat.

Then Meg, who had suddenly materialized from behind a gum display, made a noise that sounded like a suppressed sneeze, only it ended in a strangled laugh. She coughed wildly, slapping her own chest like she was choking on an Altoid.

Y/N’s mouth opened, then closed again. Her eyes scanned his face now, digging past the messy hair and sunken tiredness, through the faint stubble and older, more grown-out shape of him. And yes — yes, of course — it was him.

“Holy crap,” she breathed. “Bob. Bob Reynolds. You… you used to have an earing and used to wear those terrible denim jackets.”

Bob cracked a half-smile. ��Guilty. I, uh… grew out of one of those.”

“Yeah,” she said, still stunned.

“Figured I’d evolve,” he replied dryly, glancing down at his feet.

Meg was gripping the gum rack now like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

“You were... in my chem class,” Y/N said slowly. “And you used to draw on your notebooks and refuse to dissect frogs.”

“You did the frog for me,” Bob added.

“You looked like you were going to cry,” she shot back with a grin.

“I was very emotionally sensitive about amphibians.”

“I thought you moved away,” she said, still trying to reconcile high school Bob — the quiet, awkward guy who somehow got her attention despite being allergic to school spirit — with the man standing in front of her now.

“I did. For a while. Just got back recently. Kind of laying low.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t expect to run into anyone I knew. Let alone you.”

Meg, now fully inserted into the conversation, leaned in way too far over the counter. “Y/N was basically queen of the school, by the way. You got the cheerleader valedictorian combo and then ghosted? Savage.”

Bob looked mortified. “I didn’t ghost.”

“She’s kidding,” Y/N said, elbowing Meg. “Mostly.”

“Mostly not,” Meg whispered behind her hand, still grinning.

Bob shifted awkwardly, then finally held out his hand, as if trying to restart everything. “It’s really good to see you, though. You look… the same. Better, actually.”

Y/N took his hand, surprised at how warm it was. Solid. Grounded. “You look…” she hesitated. “Different.”

“Good different or ‘have-you-been-living-in-a-bunker’ different?”

“Depends. How long has that hoodie been alive?”

Bob laughed — a quiet, honest sound. “Long enough to be considered a roommate.”

Meg dramatically fanned herself with a flyer. “I’m going to die right here in aisle one from sexual tension.”

“Go. Stock yogurt.” Y/N hissed through her teeth.

“Yes ma'am.” Meg whispered, backing away with a wink and mouthing call me later like this was a teen drama.

Y/N turned back to Bob, who was trying to smother a grin. She bagged his groceries quickly, handing them over as if she needed her hands busy or else they’d start shaking from the weird flood of emotions creeping up her spine.

“So… you staying around for a while?” she asked.

“Yeah. Trying to figure things out.”

“Well. You know where the bread and yogurt are now.”

Bob took the bag with a nod. “Thanks. For… uh. This. Talking to me.”

She shrugged, softening. “Anytime. I work most afternoons.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And then he left — walking back out into the spring afternoon like a dream someone half-remembered after waking up. The automatic doors hissed shut behind him.

Meg came sprinting back over like a cartoon character. “Okay. What the hell was that?”

Y/N stared at the door, eyes wide, mind buzzing. “That was Bob. From high school.”

Meg’s jaw dropped. “That’s the Bob? The Bob??”

“I didn’t know he was back.”

Meg stared at her. “Girl. You had a mysterious sad boy phase before it was cool, and you never told me?”

Y/N blinked, mouth slowly turning into a smile. “It’s been a weird day.”

Meg sighed dramatically. “I’m buying you a lottery ticket after shift. Because clearly, the universe is sending you something.”

“Bread and yogurt?”

Meg grinned. “Or closure. Or maybe just the hottest second chance romance I’ve ever seen play out between cereal and a banana threat.”

They both dissolved into laughter again, the kind of laughter that bubbled up from something bigger — something starting.

And in the distance, Bob Reynolds walked home, a little confused, a little nervous.

--

High School Cafeteria, Junior Year

The cafeteria buzzed with the chaotic energy only high school lunch breaks could summon. Trays clattered, someone’s Bluetooth speaker played muffled bass under a hoodie, and the student body fractured into its social tribes: athletes hoarding pizza slices, theater kids rehearsing lines with dramatic fork stabs, and the STEM table arguing over something on a calculator like it was national policy.

Y/N sat with her usual group at the round table by the window — the so-called “popular kids,” though she hated the term. It felt like something from a teen drama rather than real life. Still, it was true that most of the school knew her name. Not in the mean-girl, tiara-wearing way, but because she was… everywhere. Cheer team captain. AP classes. Friendly with the faculty. Genuinely kind. She was the kind of person who remembered people’s birthdays and always knew which vending machine stocked the good trail mix.

Today, though, she was buzzing with something else entirely. Her eyes kept darting to the cafeteria doors every few seconds, even as her friends gossiped.

“So then,” said Jasmine, twirling a plastic spoon like a wand, “I caught Chloe writing ‘Mrs. Max Danvers’ in her notebook. In gel pen. With hearts.”

“She’s so delusional,” Lexi groaned, picking at her salad. “Max hasn’t liked anyone since eighth grade and that was his dog.”

Y/N laughed but not fully — her mind halfway across the school, willing a very specific someone to walk through those doors.

“Okay, Y/N,” said Jasmine, poking her. “Are you even here? What’s with you today?”

“Huh? Oh—” Y/N flushed slightly, biting into a grape and glancing back at the doors.

Lexi gasped. “Oh my God. She’s waiting for her emo prince, isn’t she?”

Y/N tried to look annoyed, but her smile gave her away. “He’s not emo.”

“He literally wore a shirt with a crow on it yesterday,” Jasmine said. “And headphones inside class.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, just as the doors creaked open with a buzz of late students scanning in.

And then—there he was.

Bob Reynolds stepped into the cafeteria like he didn’t belong to it. Tall, slightly slouched, backpack slung over one shoulder with a broken strap safety-pinned together. His hoodie was faded, his jeans frayed at the edges, and his hair looked like he had woken up five minutes ago — but God, her heart skipped every time she saw him.

He scanned the room once with those deep-set eyes and barely smiled — but Y/N knew the look he saved just for her.

Her entire face lit up like a switch flipped. “I’ll be right back,” she said, practically leaping from her chair.

Jasmine looked like she was watching a royal engagement. “She’s sprinting. We’ve lost her.”

Y/N weaved through tables, ignoring wolf whistles from the football guys and eye-rolls from sophomores, until she reached him. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around his neck.

“Hey, stranger,” she beamed, hugging him tight.

Bob’s expression softened like snow melting off a roof. He caught her waist, pulling her close. “Hey.”

And then she kissed him.

Not a peck. Not a shy hallway kiss. This was the full, smile-into-it, kiss-you-like-I’ve-waited-all-morning kind of kiss.

Someone behind them muttered, “Jesus, get a room,” but neither of them noticed.

“You’re late,” she murmured against his mouth, smiling too hard to be stern.

“Had to stay behind in chem. My sulfur compound exploded. Again.”

She laughed. “You’re really bad at chemistry.”

“I’m not bad at it,” he said, feigning offense. “It’s just hostile toward me.”

“Come sit with us.” She tugged his hand, already pulling him through the maze of tables. “You need to eat something that isn’t vending machine trail mix.”

Bob hesitated, but didn’t resist. “Are you sure?”

“They love you,” she said.

That was… a stretch. But he followed anyway.

Back at the table, Jasmine made a dramatic bow as Y/N returned with Bob in tow. “Ah yes. Our table’s brooding king returns.”

Bob raised a hand in greeting. “Hey.”

Lexi gave him a once-over. “Still refusing to cut that hair, I see.”

“It’s almost finals season. I’m growing it in protest.”

“You protest everything.”

He shrugged. “Someone has to.”

Y/N took her seat and dragged him down next to her. His tray only had a banana and a bottle of water, so she immediately started giving him half her sandwich.

“You’re gonna die of scurvy,” she said, breaking it in half.

“You say that like it’s dramatic,” he replied, but took the sandwich anyway.

The group settled into chatter — mostly about the upcoming dance, rumors about a surprise fire drill, and whether Mr. Thomas was dating the substitute gym teacher. Bob didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. He sat with an ease he didn’t have his sophomore year, when people whispered “Isn’t that the guy who tagged the music room lockers?”

He was still a mystery — still quiet, still aloof — but Y/N changed how people looked at him. She always touched his arm when she spoke. She brought him into jokes. She looked at him like he mattered.

And that mattered.

As the others got distracted ranking the weirdest school lunch meat ("Turkey, then ham, then the one they call 'mystery cube'"), Y/N turned slightly, her knee brushing his.

“I missed you today,” she said quietly, almost too private for the lunchroom’s roar.

He looked at her — really looked — and his voice dropped. “I missed you too.”

“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head.

Bob nodded. “Just tired. But I’m good now.”

She kissed his cheek. He turned. Their lips met again, slower this time.

From across the table, Jasmine let out a strangled groan. “You guys. Please.”

Lexi fake gagged with her spoon. “You know we can see you, right?”

Y/N leaned back with a huge grin. “You’re just jealous.”

“I’m jealous of the PDA fog you two are putting out,” Lexi said.

Bob smirked. “We’ll tone it down.”

“No, you won’t,” Jasmine sighed. “You’re gonna get married and make out in the produce aisle and we’re all gonna have to pretend we didn’t see it.”

Y/N leaned her head on Bob’s shoulder. “Promise we’ll invite you to the wedding.”

Bob whispered, just for her, “You know I love you, right?”

She turned her head, eyes soft. “Yeah. I love you too.”

And there it was — in the middle of greasy pizza trays, laughing friends, and the smell of old tater tots — a perfect little moment carved out of time.

Two kids in love.

So stupidly, beautifully in love.

[rosygaze]

busy woman

pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader

summary: you’re way too busy at your new job to even remember to eat sometimes. but you could spare a minute or two to pretend not to like it when johnny would flirt with you. inspired by busy woman by sabrina carpenter!

word count: 3.9k+

note: help wanted part 2 is here! thank you for all the love on part 1 🫶🏻 i’ve been working on this for like three months and she’s finally here 🥹 i’m definitely planning more stuff for these two but i may need to see the movie before more parts come out lmao who knows! enjoy !!!

< prev part

“Excuse me. Sorry.” You weaved and dodged the hoard of busy employees rushing in different directions. With the looming deadline on the horizon, the facility resembled an ant colony more than an office. Each person had a single goal and that was to get that rocket up in space.

While you couldn’t solve a complicated equation or weld metal, you quickly learned that you were pretty good at being an assistant. You had already built a system and connections with other departments that made it easier for you to do your job. Sue seemed to like you, at least you hoped she did cause it’s only been a month and you realized that you really liked working here.

Currently, you were on your way to deliver the stack of folders in your arms. Across the floor, you spotted the long chalkboard filled with various symbols and numbers that you would probably never understand. Dr. Reed Richards stood at one end, a piece of chalk hovered over the board. You approached him.

“Dr. Richards?” He flinched a little as if you pulled him out of a number-induced trance. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Ah, you didn’t. You saved me, actually. I needed a break. This equation’s been racking my brain for weeks now.” Dr. Richards crossed out a string of numbers and letters.

“It does look pretty tricky.”

“Tricky’s one way to describe it.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw while he stared at the board in thought.

“I don’t wanna keep you for too long. Sue wanted you to have these documents.” You handed him the stack of files. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the mention of his wife.

“Thank you.” He flipped through them and picked out a single folder. “Has she mentioned anything about tonight?” He glanced at you expectantly.

“She’s very excited for your date.” You grinned. Over the past few weeks, you’ve been a firsthand witness of Sue and Reed’s relationship. The sweet nothings they would mumble to each other when they thought you were out of earshot, the extra slip of paper slipped in between stacks of folders, the way they seemed drawn to each other in a crowd.

Definitely didn’t make you feel more single than you already were.

Nope.

“Great.” Dr. Richards smiled shyly. You tried to ignore how red his face had gotten. “You tell her I’ll be done in a few hours and that I promise to be on time.”

“I will.”

“You’re the best.” Dr. Richards turned back to his board and immediately started scribbling. You took that as your sign to go back to your desk. Again, you weaved and dodged the crowd to get back to your desk and get started on yet another task. You were listing down to-dos in your head when you spotted a man by your desk. You sighed and braced yourself for impact.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jonathan Storm called out as he saw you approaching. He was leaning on the front of your desk. One leg crossed over the other, arms bracing his weight behind him. Big, handsome grin on his face.

“Johnny.” Your voice clipped as you walked around him. You started typing on your computer, trying to ignore him in hopes that he would leave you alone before he could see how flustered he had made you with two words and a smile.

“Busy?” He turned and put his forearms on the edge of your desk, eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Kinda.”

“Gunning for employee of the month?” Johnny picked up a pencil from your cup and started tapping it against the side of your monitor.

“Maybe.” You spared a glance at him. “Do you need anything from Sue?” You tried to divert the attention away from you.

“No, I don’t need anything from my dear sister today.” Johnny sighed and plopped down on the seat you kept in front of your desk for any visitors.

“Then what are you doing here?” You stopped your typing and you fully faced him.

“Wanted to see my favorite assistant.” He shrugged.

“I’m not your assistant.” You scoffed.

“No? Then I just wanted to see you.” A sly grin spread across his lips like the Cheshire cat. You blinked at him for a second, two. Allowing yourself to indulge in his attention until you remembered who he was, who you were, where you are.

You pulled your eyes away from his and looked down at your desk.

“Johnny… You can't say things like that to me.” You strained.

“Why not?” He asked you.

“Cause you work here.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. Could he really be this dense? “And I work here. For your sister, might I remind you.“

“What does that have to do with anything?"

“You can’t…you know.” You moved your hands in the air awkwardly.

“What?” He was goading you now, big brown eyes boring into yours.

“Flirt with me.” You said through your teeth.

“But I want to.”

“But you can’t.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I-“

He had you cornered. Damn him.

“How about this? I’ll try my absolute best not to flirt with you.” You glared at him but he never wavered. He continued to blind you with that signature Storm smile. “And you can pretend not to like it. Deal?”

“Johnny.”

“Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” Johnny put his arms out as if to say ‘See?’. “Just as pretty as you are.” He added with a wink.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed. You couldn’t stop the flush that spread over your body even if you wanted to. Before you could tell him off again, you heard Sue’s voice calling you from inside her office. “This isn’t over.” You pointed a finger at him and narrowed your eyes.

“Oh, I hope not.” Johnny simply smirked and slid down on the chair as if he were lounging on the beach.

The keyboard clicked and clacked away as you typed out a report. The office had gotten quiet, people started leaving a couple of hours ago. Even Sue had passed by your desk and told you not to stay that late. You promised you wouldn’t. You just had a couple more things to do and you could call it a day.

But you thought about how you would save so much time tomorrow if you got a few more things done today. So here you were, neck aching and hands cramping, checking off yet another one of your to-dos.

You rolled your neck around to relieve some of the ache. You really needed to be more conscious of your posture.

“If you keep staying here this late, I think they’re gonna start charging you rent.” A voice echoed through your empty office, making you jump. Your relief turned into annoyance when you saw who it was.

“Johnny, you scared me!” You put a hand to your pounding chest.

“You’re working in a dark office all alone and you get scared by little old me?” Johnny dropped down in the seat in front of you again. “But, don’t you worry. Johnny’s here now and he’s gonna keep all the scary monsters away.”

“My hero.” You said dryly but a smile tugged on your lips. “Nothing better to do tonight?”

“Just keeping you company.” He shrugged. “And making sure you don’t stay here overnight. Do you realize how late it is? You shook your head and checked your watch.

“It’s already 10pm?” You gasped. The nearest window to you was a couple of desks away so you didn’t realize just how late it had gotten. You swore you weren’t working that long.

“Didn’t see the sun setting?”

“Not really.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Did you leave this desk at all today?” Johnny raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, Sue had me pick up some reports from her earlier.” To which you took to your desk, sat down, and typed out reports for.

“And?”

You rattled your brain. “And… I used the ladies’ room a couple of times.”

Johnny made a ‘tsk’ sound and plopped a brown paper bag on your desk. “Eat up, busy bee.”

“What is this?”

“Food.” He reached inside and tossed something your way. You awkwardly caught it and saw that it was a burger wrapped in parchment paper. “I'm pretty sure you haven't had anything to eat the whole day.”

“How’d you know that?” You said, voice barely over a whisper. Your stomach grumbled as if it remembered what hunger was. Meanwhile, Johnny was already digging into his own burger.

“Well, I’ve been watching you for a couple of weeks now. I know you get so focused on your work that you skip meals.” He picked up a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “And when I saw your car in the parking lot, I figured you'd be in here for another hour or so, so I went and picked up some burgers for us. Lo and behold, here you are. Glued to your desk.”

You were quiet for a second. Since you started here, Johnny had been pestering you. He was nice, of course but he had a knack for catching you at your busiest and talking your ear off. He annoyed you most days, made you smile on others.

Today. Today, he made you smile. Johnny noticed that you were working late and brought you food. You could cry but you weren’t sure if it was because you were touched or hungry.

“You've been watching me? Stalker.” You unwrapped your burger and took a bite. He rolled his eyes at you.

“That's all you got? No ‘I love you, Johnny! You saved me from starving to death!’?”

“Thank you, Johnny. You saved me from starving to death.” You continued to eat your burger and looked Johnny dead in the eye.

“I think you got that first part wrong.” Johnny lifted his brows, expectantly. He wanted to hear the words ‘I love you, Johnny’ come out of your mouth. Fat chance.

“Mm,” You moaned exaggeratedly around your burger, making Johnny shift in his seat. “This is so good. It wiped my memory. Who are you again?”

Johnny chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Go eat your burger.”

A-choo!

You sneezed into a wad of tissue that you’d crumpled into your hand. You wiped your nose and stuffed it into your skirt pocket. There was a bug going around and you did everything in your power to keep it away from you. You took your vitamins, overloaded yourself with fruits and vegetables, stayed far away from anyone who tried to clear their throat.

And yet. It got you.

You sniffled miserably and went back to taking notes on the engine test Sue asked for. It was hard to focus when you had a pounding headache and a round of coughs threatening to spill out. Shake it off.

“You feeling okay, hon?” A gruff voice asked. You turned and saw the kind, worried eyes of Benjamin Grimm.

“I’m fine, Ben.” Your voice was hoarse.

“That runny nose and wad of tissues sticking out of your pocket says otherwise.” He pointed a finger down.

“That’s nothing.” You shoved your hand in your pocket and pushed everything down.

“If you say so.” He nudged your arm with his elbow. “Take it easy at least.”

You smiled gratefully. Ben looked rough and mean on the outside, piercing blue eyes and a mouth of a sailor to match. You were pretty intimidated by him when you were first introduced but you quickly learned that he was just a big sweetheart once you got to know him.

The two of you continued your work. Ben was helping you make sense of all the technical jargon. After a couple of minutes of note taking, your vision started to get hazy and you wobbled on your heels.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Ben stated. He gripped your arm and gently pulled you down to a nearby chair. You wanted to protest but he cut you off. “No, no. Sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

You tried to call out to him but that round of coughs you were suppressing finally made itself known. When you were done, you sunk down in your chair. I hate this. You thought. God, you missed the days when your nose wasn’t clogged.

“Hey, so I stayed in last night. Crazy, I know. Who am I?” You groaned. Johnny was gonna rip you a new one. You sat up and put on the most “I’m not sick!” expression you could muster, even slapped your cheeks a few times to get some color back in them. Johnny strolled up, carefree as always. “Anyways, I watched that movie you were talking about last week and- whoa, wait.” He stopped in front of you. Johnny scanned your face with an intense gaze.

“Hi, Johnny.” You said, sweetly, but he just narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned.

“Nothing’s wrong. How was the movie?” You tried to distract him.

“No, no, no. You look pale.” Johnny put one hand on the back of your chair and bent down to be closer to you. Your face was heating up. You were going to chalk that up to the fever you were probably developing…and not because of his face so close to yours. “Did you forget to eat again?”

“I had lunch.”

“She’s sick!” You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Ben coming back with a glass of water in hand.

“Ben!” You groaned.

“Sick?” Johnny immediately grabbed your face with both hands. “You’re burning up, sweetheart.” Johnny’s voice was soft. His thumb brushed your cheek with a featherlight touch. You leaned into his palm for a fraction of a second. Blame it on your flu-ridden brain.

“Johnny, it’s okay.” You matched his tone.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home.” He gave you an incredulous look. He took one of his hands away from your face and reached back for the glass of water from Ben. “Drink.”

You took big gulps. You didn’t realize how dehydrated you’d become. “I’m not going home.”

“I’m taking you home.” Johnny put his hands on your forearms and pulled you up gently but firmly.

“You don’t know where I live, Johnny. And I’m not leaving.” You shook your head which was a big mistake. You felt light-headed again and wobbled. Johnny gripped you even tighter while glaring at you.

“Sue!” Ugh. You heard your boss’ heels clack behind you. You turned your head much slower this time. “Your assistant has the plague and refuses to go home.”

“The plague?” Sue raised a brow.

“He’s being dramatic.” You corrected him. Sue put the back of her hand to your forehead and tsk-ed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve given you the day off.” She crossed her arms.

“We have so much to do.” Your argument was getting weaker every time.

“It can wait til tomorrow. Today, all I want you to do is to rest until you feel better.” She pointed at you.

“But-“

“No buts.”

Fight’s over.

“Fine.” You conceded with a pout.

“I’ll drive her home.” Johnny put an arm around your shoulder and guided you to a walking pace.

“Feel better, hon!” Ben called out to you. You waved back to him.

“Did you like the movie though?” You asked Johnny.

“Loved it.”

The copy machine was slower than usual today and you were getting impatient. You had a pile of 30-page reports that needed 4 copies by tomorrow morning and you were only at number 3. It didn’t help that you picked the wrong pair of heels today and they were pinching your toes. Never, ever wear pointy heels at work.

You fed another piece of paper through the machine and put your weight against it while you tried to alleviate some of the pain on your feet. You rolled your ankles a few times on each side while grabbing the warm piece of paper and placed it with the rest of the copies. That was the last of copy 3. You pulled out the original pages and started the process one last time.

Sighing, you put the first page in. You looked around the office. It was pretty empty at this time, but there were a few stragglers that you knew would start packing up soon. The machine whirred while you took a headcount of who was still here. John, William, Shelley, Johnny….

Wait.

Your eyes snapped back to your desk where a certain blonde was in his usual seat. A smile tugged on your lips and you may or may not have started speeding up your copying. Once the final page shot out onto the tray, you gathered all of your papers and walked back to your desk.

Johnny was mindlessly fiddling with the pens you kept in a mug on your desk. He had his back to you so you would be able to surprise him for once.

“I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at yours.” You giggled when he flinched.

“Well, the view here is much better than mine.” He recovered quickly and shot you an easy smile. You shook your head, letting the flirty comment wash over you.

You pulled out the puncher and punched holes through the reports. You opened your box of paper fasteners and started to arrange your copies into their respective folders. Sparing a glance at Johnny, you saw that he was tapping a beat on your desk with a pensive expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Johnny tried to keep it light but you heard the edge in his voice.

“You're just…” You dragged, trying to find the right words. “Quieter than usual.”

“‘s been a long day.” He let out a long breath. Johnny’s brows furrowed and the corner of his lips turned downwards.

“I heard you went out into the field today.” You fastened the last report into its folder and gave Johnny your full attention.

“Keeping tabs on me?” A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

“Part of the job.” You shrugged. “Did something happen?”

“I’m grounded.” Johnny said after a beat.

“What?”

“I’m not allowed to fly for a month.” He stopped his drumming and placed his palm flat on the wood.

“Why would they do that?” Johnny was one of the most competent pilots in the program. It made no sense to suspend him like this.

“You know that the new jets came in this week, right?” You nodded to answer his question. “Well, they asked me to test those bad boys. See how fast they’d go. And that’s what I did.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’d ground you though.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Well, they only wanted me to go up to a certain speed but I knew they could go faster. I could go faster.”

“Did you?”

Johnny smiled, the first genuine one of the day. “I did. Going that fast. Nothing better than that. You just feel so…free.”

“That sounds amazing.” You couldn’t help but smile with him.

“It was. Until I landed.”

“What did they do?”

“Insubordination. That’s what they called it. The jet was fine, by the way. It was built to go that fast. The admiral just has a stick up his ass. I let him know that too.” Johnny said through gritted teeth, hand curling into a tight fist. You could see a flush of red on his cheeks and his breaths getting shallower.

“How long ‘till you can fly again?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand but you held yourself back.

“A month.” He scoffed.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief. “You’ll still be able to join the launch.”

“Ha, they can try to replace me.” Johnny jabbed a finger on his chest. “They won’t find someone else.”

“Oh, I know. The team wouldn’t let that happen.” You paused. “Neither would I.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. “Going soft on me now, sweetheart?”

“Just cause you’re all mopey today.” You teased. “I am sorry, Johnny.”

“Ah, it‘s not your fault.” He waved a hand at you. You frowned.

“But you’re upset and you’re my friend so still. I’m sorry.” You rambled.

“I’m your friend?” He asked, sounding way too happy about it.

“I think so. Do you think we are?” Your voice got quiet, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“I do.” Johnny nodded.

A warm, fuzzy feeling came over you. You didn't know when it happened, but Johnny had become a staple in your life. It was so easy to talk to him. You found yourself drawn to him in a crowd, saving seats for each other every time there was an office-wide meeting. Then of course, you found yourself here on most days. Sitting at your desk, talking about everything and nothing. Some days, Johnny would just sit there and wait for you to finish working. He’d talk your ear off but you realized it was just to get you to stop working and go home.

Johnny was a friend. And a pretty good one at that.

“Do you wanna go get something to eat? I think we both need to get out of this place.” You logged off your computer and shut it down.

“Asking me out?”

“As a friend.” You gave him a pointed look.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He played along, nodding sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I’ve got plans tonight so I’m gonna need a raincheck on that.” A part of you was disappointed but you brushed it off.

“That’s okay. Next time?” You slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Next time. But, thank you.” Johnny locked eyes with you. “For listening.”

“Any time.” You smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

“You go ahead. I forgot something in my locker.”

“Okay, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Drive safe.”

You navigated out of the building and pushed the doors open. Fresh air filled your lungs, something you often take for granted after being in a stuffy office all day. The parking lot was fairly empty. You could see your own car a few rows down and spotted Johnny’s fire red convertible parked close to the door.

What you didn’t expect to see was the woman leaning against it.

You recognized her. She worked here too but in a different department. She didn’t pay you mind when you walked past, too caught up with finding something in her bag. You looked away before she could catch you staring but your brain was going a hundred miles an hour.

Did she know Johnny? Of course, she knows Johnny. Everyone knows him. What was she doing by his car? And most importantly…

Why was this bothering you so much?

Eventually, you made it to your car and started the engine. As you were pulling out of the driveway, you caught a glimpse of Johnny coming out of the building. In the rearview mirror, you watched him walk up to the woman, kiss her cheek, and open the passenger door for her.

You pulled your eyes away and focused on the road ahead. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut. You felt a little nauseous but you ignored it, just like you ignored the green-eyed monster that was slowly making itself known.

Whatever.

You were too busy to have a crush on anyone, anyways.

Much less on someone like Jonathan Storm.

[revelboo]

Hi revel! This is not a request haha just a question, how do you keep up with the plots for your fanfics? Like holy primus there's hundreds of them with so many different characters

🤣 that is one of the few, weird things my brain does that’s actually useful. Unlike randomly going ‘but did you actually lock the house’ so I have to go back and check even though I know I did. I can jump between storylines easily and pick them up from the last chapter without any problem.

That said, I usually have a vague idea where I’m going, but there’s no solid plot for these. This is just for fun, so I’m not breaking out the index card and scrivener system and plotting out story beats. I’m just having fun. This is how I deal with stress and overthinking it will make it work and then it’s stressful.

And I just wanted to say, I was doom scrolling, as one does on this flaming dumpster fire site, and saw where someone had posted a fic and commented that they had to revise it because the initial idea was close to something I’d wrote. Y’all, I’m just doing this for fun. Write the thing. It doesn’t matter if it’s passingly similar to something I wrote, I’m not going to get upset.

If you took ten transformers x reader writers on here, gave us the same prompt, even laying out detailed story beats to hit, we’re still going to write different stuff, because we’re different people with different writing styles, voices, and perspectives. Please don’t avoid telling a story you want to tell because it might be slightly similar to something of mine. Write your stories.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

while i am absolutely still engaged, i am also old. and tired. been at actively trying to avoid this brand of very specific eventuality for a very long time. i’m also loving all of this newer activist energy. people write me a lot, asking how i haven’t completely burned out over time. so. fwiw…

notes to newer activists (or) things i wish i would’ve known 30 years ago (or) what i’ve learned so far:

activism without community leads to burnout. find your people. stay engaged. cultivate community. if you don’t have it, build it.

while we’re all aligned, there will inevitably be differing ideas. anchor into your values. the infighting will happen. that’s just a given. esp on the left. we’re famous for it.

you don’t have to do everything - just do a one thing. something. anything. and then do the next right thing.

ask yourself often - is my reaction and movement rooted in trauma response? adjust accordingly. work from a place of wholeness, as close as you can get to that. rage is fine. incredibly valid. but also embrace grief, love, joy, imagination, creativity, vision. they last longer. feel it all.

rest is resistance. it’s not a detour. or betrayal. community is resistance.

take news breaks. let your nervous system reset, as best as possible.

before actions or organizing, make a little ritual. get grounded in the present. a breath. a mantra. a magical rock in your pocket. after, return to rest. a quiet walk. a nap. a cup of tea. reflect in a journal. create a playlist of songs that soothe you. this is a reminder to your nervous system that right now you are safe, whole, human.

celebrate small wins. joy is also resistance. there will be far more of these.

you’re likely feeling a great sense of urgency. hold that by the edges. none of this happened overnight and it’s not going to be undone overnight. urgency culture is real. what’s an emergency? triage it, emotionally and practically.

observe, don’t absorb. act where/when you can. it takes all of us. it takes every moment you are able to give.

your heart will break. a lot. you’ll feel frustrated. it’s part of being aware. take care of you. a lot of trauma lives in activist spaces. the basics: sleep, eat, hydrate, move. the not so basic but also vitals: somatic work, breathing - the intentional kind. therapy.

keep learning, keep unlearning. being teachable, being open, stepping outside your comfort zone is radical. you don’t need to be a flawless activist, just show up. know you’ll screw something up. own it. adjust. shift.

vision: what are you fighting for, not just against. imagine it. draw it. write it. collage it. build it in micromoments.

healthy activism means you’re leaving it better than you found it.

get cozy with grief. it’s part of justice work. it honors what hasn’t changed. what’s been lost. grieve alone, grieve collectively.

visibility isn’t impact. anchor to your why. return to it often. not all social media posts are effective. not all social media posts are performative. but some are. will it have an impact? is it effective? things to ask you.

justice is a practice, not a purity test. guilt and shame backfire and will not lead to action. teach. welcome. provide on-ramps to action.

go back and find the activists throughout history that bring the fire for you. there are certain words i always return to when i’m feeling despair. collect them to have at the ready.

stay open to wonder. look at the stars. listen to old songs. look at the sky. a river. babies. there’s a lot of beauty to fight for.

authoritarianism wants you tired, scared, joyless. your delight is resistance fuel. joy is resistance.

never forget. we are all connected. what happens to one of us happens to all of us. we are wired for connection. fierce individualism is killing us.

empathy is not weakness. it’s a lifeline. no matter what they say. don’t let the bastards grind you down.

mostly, thank you, deeply and sincerely, thank you, for whatever it is you are doing to make the world a better place. for knowing we are all connected. for acting accordingly.

(Kara Joy)

[eriace]

how they react to being called "bro" after kissing ; some haikyuu cast

headcanon ↪ in which they react to being called "bro after kissing. ↷ k. tsukishima, t. kageyama, k. kenma, t. yamaguchi, & y. nishinoya ; haikyuu (requested by anonymous)

↷ kei tsukishima:

blink. blink. silence.

his entire system crashes for a good five seconds. the kiss? perfect. the "bro"? not so much.

"did you just call me bro?"

glares at you like you just insulted his entire bloodline.

"wow. thanks. real romantic."

grumbles something about how he should've kissed you harder so you'd forget how to speak.

despite the deadpan delivery, he's very red around the ears and absolutely thinks about it for the rest of the day

↷ tobio kageyama:

his soul leaves his body.

he physically recoils like you slapped him.

"bro?? what do you mean bro?? we just kissed!"

starts panicking. paces. runs a hand through his hair.

thinks he did something wrong. thinks he's been friend-zoned after kissing you. short-circuits.

"was it not good?? am i not boyfriend material?? why am i a bro now??"

will not rest until you explain that you were just teasing (and probably kiss him again for reassurance).

↷ kenma kozume:

pauses game. stares blankly at you.

doesn’t react at first. you think he didn’t hear you.

then, slowly, "…bro?"

eyes narrow slightly like he’s trying to figure out if you’re messing with him.

"you kiss your other bros like that too?"

100% throws a pillow at you and turns away in fake annoyance but is secretly flustered.

next time you lean in for a kiss, he deadpans: "you gonna call me champ after this one

↷ tadashi yamaguchi:

turns bright red instantly.

"b-bro?! but… but we just… i thought…"

the poor boy spirals. you broke his heart with one word.

awkwardly fiddles with his hands, unsure if he misread everything.

you have to stop him from apologizing for the kiss.

once you tell him you’re joking, he laughs nervously but still blushes every time he remembers it.

↷ yuu nishinoya:

jumps back a foot like you just challenged him to a duel.

"BRO?!? AFTER ALL THAT SPARK??"

dramatically clutches his heart. fake cries.

"that kiss was at LEAST level 10 intimacy, and you hit me with a level 3 bromance??"

makes it a bit where he pretends to be your bro all day and keeps going, "bro… remember when we BRO’d lips??"

but let’s be real, he gets extra cuddly to make sure you know he's not just a bro.

© eriace ;; don’t repost my works.

[metalmonki]

It's All So Wrong, Yet So So Right

Cheater!Bobby Nash x Cheater!Reader

4.2k word count

Summary Your a firefighter with the 118. Your engaged to Evan Buckley who you've been madly in love with for 4 years. Life is perfect. That is until a late night in the fire house sees a spark between you and your Captain Bobby Nash who happens to be a married man.

Slow Burn/Fluff/Angst/Cheaters

Next Chapter

Authors Note: I know this seems super fast paced but the next chapter will make it make sense. Trust the process!

Walking into the firehouse everything hits me—the smell of truck grease, the faint whiff of yesterday’s coffee grounds, and the buzz of a shift about to start—it makes my blood hum. Or maybe it’s just the caffeine kicking in.

Buck’s beside me, coffee in one hand, jacket slung over his shoulder, looking way too smug for someone who definitely hit snooze three times.

“So,” I say, nudging him with my hip as we walk toward the doors, “I saw a listing in Silver Lake. Three bedrooms, little backyard, big kitchen. I mean, it’s not exactly Malibu, but…”

He groans. Loudly. “Oh no, not house talk before breakfast. I’m barely awake.”

“That’s what the coffee’s for,” I tease, taking a long sip from my own cup.

Behind us, boots scuff against the pavement and Eddie’s voice joins the mix. “Morning. You two making real estate moves already?”

“Trying to,” I say, glancing back at him. “Emphasis on trying.”

“We’re discussing it,” Buck clarifies, giving me a sideways look. “Apparently, one bedroom is suddenly unacceptable.”

I smirk. “It’s fine, if you like storing laundry on top of your dresser.”

“My system works,” he insists.

“You have a pile labeled ‘clean-ish,’ Buck.”

Eddie chuckles, falling into step with us. “So what’s the rush? You planning to make room for some mini firefighters?”

And just like that, the conversation takes off in a direction I wasn’t ready for at 7:53 a.m.

We hit the locker room, everyone falling into their usual rhythm—shirts swapped out for uniforms, radios clipped, boots stomped down tight.

“Did I hear something about babies?” Hen calls as she walks in, Chimney right behind her with Ravi in tow.

“Whoa,” I say, holding up a hand. “We are not having this conversation yet.”

“Oh, we’re having it,” Chim grins. “What, you two finally get engaged and now it’s white picket fences and matching lunchboxes?”

Buck shuts his locker with a little more force than necessary. “Okay, let’s just slow way down. Not that I don’t want kids—because I do—but maybe let us find a place with, like, a closet before we start talking diapers and car seats.”

I can feel the blush creep up my neck but I’m grateful. Buck’s not wrong—it’s been on my mind, yeah, but there’s a long road between apartment hunting and family planning.

We head upstairs to the kitchen where the smell of bacon and pancakes is enough to make me forget the chaos downstairs. Captain Nash is at the stove, flipping something in a pan like a Food Network host who just happens to command a firehouse.

“Morning,” Bobby greets us, looking over his shoulder. “Smells like big life decisions are happening down there.”

I laugh and slide into a seat at the table. “Something like that.”

“Well, you’ve earned it,” he says, placing the last of the food on the table. “Now dig in before—”

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

The alarm cuts through the kitchen like a slap. Every fork freezes mid-air.

“Of course,” Buck mutters.

“Station 118, structure fire reported, corner of West 6th and Bixel—possible entrapment. Respond Code Three.”

“Move!” Bobby barks, already headed for the pole.

We’re all up in a flash, breakfast forgotten, adrenaline already spiking.

Back to work.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the rush that comes with a call. No matter how many times I’ve slid down that pole or pulled on my turnout gear in record time, there’s always a jolt of something electric in my chest. Maybe it’s adrenaline. Maybe it’s purpose.

We load into the engine fast—Eddie at the wheel, Bobby beside him in the passenger seat. I jump into the back with Buck and Ravi. Hen and Chim take their spot in the ambulance. The sirens wail a second later, and we’re flying down the street, weaving through early morning traffic as the city wakes up around us.

“Structure fire with possible entrapment,” Bobby’s voice goes over the radio to the other rig. “Let’s stay sharp, team.”

My fingers tighten around the strap I’m gripping. Possible entrapment. That changes things. That heightens things.

Buck turns slightly in his seat, catching my eye. He doesn’t say anything, but I know that look. It says be careful. It says don’t do anything stupid. It says I love you, in that weird firefighter way we’ve all learned to speak.

We round the corner onto West 6th and I spot the smoke before I see the flames—gray-black tendrils twisting into the sky from a two-story home, flames licking out from a shattered front window.

“Looks like the fire’s concentrated in the living room and heading up the stairs,” Eddie reports as we jump out. “Neighbors said someone might still be inside.”

“Alright,” Bobby says, already donning his SCBA. “Eddie, Buck, Y/N—you’re going in for search and rescue. Hen, Chim, Ravi—set up the hose line and get that fire under control.”

I yank on my mask and pull my helmet tight. No time to think. Just move.

We head in as a team, Buck kicking down the already-charred front door. The heat punches me in the chest the second we step inside. Visibility’s crap, and the smoke is thick—like breathing in cotton soaked in gasoline.

“Y/N, take the right,” Buck orders. “Eddie and I will sweep left and head upstairs.”

I nod and drop low, flashlight cutting through the haze as I move past what used to be a coffee table. Couch is half-consumed by flames. Family photos are curling on the wall like they’re ashamed to be here.

“Fire Department!” I shout. “Call out if you can hear me!”

A creak to my right makes me freeze. I shine my light that way and spot a shape—small, low to the floor. A kid. Crawling, coughing, eyes wide with fear.

“I got one!” I yell.

I move fast, scooping the kid into my arms and wrapping my turnout jacket around him to shield his face from the worst of it.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” I say, even though my voice sounds muffled in my mask. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Y/N, status?” Buck’s voice crackles in my radio.

“Got a kid, heading out now.”

The way back feels longer. The fire’s angrier now, growling through the ceiling as I dodge falling debris and push through the front door.

Hen meets me on the front lawn with a medical bag, already on her knees to check the boy’s vitals. Chim’s got the hose steady, and water’s pounding the house in steady, determined arcs.

“Go back in!” Bobby shouts from behind his mask. “Second victim reported upstairs!”

I don’t even hesitate. I catch Buck and Eddie halfway up the staircase as they’re hauling an unconscious woman over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Fire’s about to eat the roof!” Buck yells. “Let’s go!”

We move like a unit—trained, automatic, in sync. I cover them as they descend, shielding their backs from the worst of the heat as we escape through the now-sagging front doorway.

The woman’s handed off to paramedics before we even finish stripping our gear. I kneel on the grass, gasping in clean air like it’s a gift.

Buck’s hand finds mine, and I squeeze it. Hard.

“You good?” he asks, crouching beside me.

I nod. “Kid’s alive. Woman’s still breathing. I’m good.”

There’s soot on his cheeks, sweat beading beneath his helmet, and his eyes are all I see for a second. Bright. Worried. Loving.

“I know we were joking earlier,” I say between breaths, “but if we ever do have kids—”

“We’re teaching them to run the other way from fire,” he finishes for me, a crooked grin spreading.

“Exactly.”

…

If there’s one thing they never show you in the firehouse recruitment brochures, it’s the mountain of paperwork that follows every major call. For every life saved, there are twelve forms to fill out in triplicate. If the fire didn’t kill me, the keyboard just might.

I let out a slow breath, resting my forehead against the edge of the desk in the common room, surrounded by half-empty coffee cups and scattered report pages. My eyes burn—not from smoke this time, but from staring at screens and fine print for too long.

“Buck’s handwriting is actually worse than I remembered,” I mutter to myself, trying to decipher a sentence that could either say “debris cleared” or “debrief cleared.” Honestly, I might just type “clear” and move on.

The shift’s quieted down since the fire. No more calls, no more drama. Just… admin. Even Ravi looked ready to fake an emergency by hour four.

One by one, the others trickled out as the clock crept toward the end of shift—Hen heading out to pick up Denny, Chim grumbling something about needing sleep and also tacos, Eddie with a wave and a “see you tomorrow.” Buck kissed my cheek on his way out, promising to grab groceries and “maybe not burn dinner this time.”

And now? Just me, this never-ending report, and the hum of the vending machine in the corner.

I don’t notice Bobby’s still here until he clears his throat gently behind me.

“You’re still working?” he asks, voice warm but worn. He’s got a coffee mug in one hand, sleeves rolled up, and that quiet sort of calm he carries like armor.

“Trying,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “My brain is officially jelly, but this report’s not going to file itself.”

He walks over and sets his mug down next to my elbow. "You did good today. With the kid. And everything else.”

“Thanks, Cap.”

There’s a pause between us, not uncomfortable, just… still. Peaceful in a way the firehouse rarely is.

Bobby leans against the table, arms crossed loosely. “You thinking about that conversation from this morning?”

I blink at him. “You mean the house? Or the part where everyone suddenly thought we were pregnant?”

He chuckles softly. “Both.”

I lean back in the chair, letting the wheels squeak as I tip my head toward the ceiling.

“Yeah,” I admit. “I’ve been thinking about it. Not that I’m in a rush or anything, but… I guess it’s starting to feel possible now, you know? A house, a future. Kids, eventually. That call today kind of… hit different.”

Bobby nods, quiet for a beat. “It always does. The ones with kids… they stay with you. Make you think about what matters.”

He doesn’t say more. He doesn’t have to.

“I think Buck’s a little freaked out,” I say after a minute. “Not in a bad way—just, you know… Buck. He’s got a good heart. He just doesn’t always know how to pace himself.”

Bobby smiles gently. “He’s got you. That helps.”

I return the smile, softer now. “Yeah. We’ve got each other.”

The last rays of sunlight stream through the windows, painting gold across the quiet kitchen. I glance back at the computer, the blinking cursor still waiting for me to finish.

“I should wrap this up,” I say, sitting forward again. “Or I’ll never leave.”

“You finish that,” Bobby says, picking up his mug. “I’ll clean up the kitchen. Deal?”

“Deal.”

As he walks away, I feel a strange kind of peace settle over me. Not the loud kind. Not the adrenaline-fueled, high-stakes, rushing-into-flames kind. The quiet kind. The home is waiting kind.

And maybe that’s enough—for now.

The keys clack under my fingers as I finish typing the last sentence of the incident report. I reread it three times, squinting through the dull ache behind my eyes, and then hit submit like it’s the most satisfying thing I’ve done all day.

Done. Finally.

I lean back in the chair and let out a long sigh, rolling my shoulders. The station is almost eerily quiet now—no voices, no movement, just the low hum of the overhead lights and the occasional creak of the building settling. It feels different when it’s this empty, like the place is catching its breath between shifts, too.

Across the room, Bobby finishes wiping down the counter and sets the rag aside. A moment later, he moves back toward the table with two steaming mugs in hand.

“I figured you earned this,” he says, setting one down beside me. “Fresh pot.”

I smile, grateful. “You’re a saint.”

He chuckles and lowers himself into the chair opposite me with that same unhurried, grounded presence he always carries. Not saying much. Not needing to. Just being here.

I wrap my hands around the mug, letting the warmth soak into my fingers. It’s quiet again. But not awkward. Just… calm. Comfortable.

We sit like that for a while. Not talking. Just sipping.

And then—somewhere in that silence, something shifts.

I glance up at him, and he’s just watching the steam curl up from his coffee, brows slightly drawn like he’s thinking about something far away. His sleeves are still rolled to his elbows, and his wedding ring is long gone. I know his story. Everyone does. But sitting here now, something about him feels… different.

Or maybe I feel different.

He catches me looking, and offers a small smile—just the faint curve of his mouth, nothing big, but it hits deeper than I expect.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” I answer, but it comes out a little breathless.

I drop my gaze, suddenly way too aware of how quiet it is. Of how close we are. Of how this doesn’t feel like just two coworkers burning the midnight oil anymore. It feels intimate—but not in a way that feels wrong. Not rushed. Not inappropriate. Just… real.

I try to focus on my coffee, but my mind won’t stop tracing the lines of his face. The quiet strength he carries. The way he listens. The way he sees people—not just the job they do, but who they are.

I think about Buck. About how safe he makes me feel. About how loud our love is—messy, passionate, chaotic in the way only Buck could be. And I love that. I do.

But this—this right now—isn’t loud. It’s steady. It’s stillness after the storm. It’s the kind of feeling that sneaks up on you when you’re not looking.

I realize I’ve been staring again, and I shake myself out of it. I don’t even know what I’d say if I tried to speak. What am I doing? Bobby is my captain. My friend. Someone I trust with my life.

But there’s a small, undeniable part of me wondering—what if that trust could be more?

He doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence stretch, safe and easy. His eyes are warm when they meet mine. Not questioning. Just… patient.

And for the first time, I don’t look away.

I don’t know how long we sit like that, just the two of us with cooling coffee and the low hum of the station around us. Long enough for the tension in my shoulders to ease. Long enough for the strange flutter in my chest to become something I can’t completely ignore.

Which is exactly why I need to say something. Anything.

I clear my throat, forcing my voice to sound casual. “You know, we haven’t seen Athena all shift.”

Bobby glances up from his coffee, mildly surprised. “No, I guess not.”

“She okay?” I ask. “She’s usually around—even if she’s just glaring at Buck for doing something mildly illegal.”

That earns a quiet laugh, the tension in his expression easing. “She’s good. Just pulling doubles this week. Got roped into covering for someone out on leave. She texted me earlier, said she wouldn’t be by.”

I nod, sipping my coffee and trying not to think about the relief that settles in my chest at that.

Not because I don’t like Athena. God, I love Athena. She’s fierce and brilliant and somehow even more intimidating than Bobby on his worst day. But I guess… right now, a small part of me is glad she didn’t walk in while I was looking at Bobby like I forgot what breathing was.

“That’s gotta be weird,” I say. “You two are usually like a package deal.”

He offers a half-smile, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. It is. But things change.”

He says it simply. Not with sadness exactly—just a quiet acceptance that speaks louder than anything else.

I wonder what that means. I wonder if it’s really about Athena… or something else.

I stir my coffee even though there’s nothing in it to stir. “You miss her when she’s not around?”

His gaze lifts to mine again, steady, thoughtful. “I miss the idea of her sometimes. More than the reality lately.”

The words hang in the air like a match struck in the dark.

I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t think he knows what to say to that. He doesn’t take it back. He just… lets it sit.

And I feel it—the space between us shifting again, but not in a dramatic way. Not fireworks. Not sudden declarations. Just… a pulse of something unspoken. Something waiting.

I nod slowly, letting his words settle. “I get that,” I say. “Sometimes the idea of someone is easier to hold on to than what it really feels like day to day.”

We’re not talking about Athena anymore. Or Buck. Or anyone, really. We’re just talking. Two people sitting in the almost-dark, trying to make sense of things we don’t want to admit are changing.

He doesn’t look away this time. And neither do I.

“Thanks for the coffee,” I say after a while, standing slowly and wrapping both hands around the warm ceramic like it’s some kind of shield.

“Anytime,” Bobby says. And he means it.

As I head toward the hallway to grab my stuff, I don’t have to look back to know he’s watching me go.

And I don’t know what that means yet.

But I’m starting to want to find out.

The second I walk through the door, the scent of takeout hits me—Thai, if my nose is right—and something else: clean laundry and the familiar, warm mess that is home with Buck.

He’s in the kitchen, standing barefoot in sweats and an old department t-shirt, shoveling noodles into his mouth straight from the carton like he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. When he sees me, his face lights up with that boyish, earnest smile that still gets me every time.

“There she is!” he says around a mouthful. “I was starting to think you’d fallen asleep at your desk.”

“Almost did,” I say, managing a small smile. “Paperwork marathon.”

He nods like he understands—which he does. Buck’s done his fair share of desk duty, even if he usually finds a way to avoid it with some kind of overly dramatic injury or suspiciously timed plumbing emergency.

“I got you pad see ew,” he says, holding up the second carton. “Extra broccoli, like you like it. And don’t say I never do anything romantic.”

“Thanks,” I say, and I mean it. I take the food and head for the couch, kicking off my boots and curling up into my usual corner. Buck flops down beside me, draping one arm along the back of the couch like he always does, comfortable and familiar and… safe.

I should feel safe. I do feel safe.

But there’s something different tonight. Not in the room. In me.

I can still feel the quiet weight of Bobby’s eyes. Still hear his voice when he said, “Things change.” Still feel the way the silence between us had shifted, like something had cracked open just a little.

And now I’m sitting beside the man I promised forever to, eating takeout and watching reruns of The Office, and I’m smiling when I should be… God, I don’t know. More present.

Buck leans over suddenly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You okay?”

I glance at him. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He studies me for a second, like he can sense something’s off but doesn’t know how to name it. Buck’s always been good at reading my moods—just not always great at knowing what to do with them.

“You sure?” he asks, quieter this time.

I nod. “I promise. Just a long day.”

And that’s not a lie.

He lets it go, settling back and turning the volume up a little. I force myself to eat, to laugh when he quotes a line from the show, to pretend everything inside me isn’t twisted into a quiet knot.

Because I love him. I do.

But that moment back at the station won’t leave me alone.

And for the first time, I wonder what it means that I didn’t tell him about it.

…

The end-of-shift energy buzzes through the firehouse like a slow leak of pressure. Everyone’s winding down—gear cleaned, lockers shut, half-finished cups of coffee abandoned in favor of getting home.

I’d made it through the whole day pretending everything was normal. Smiled at Buck across the rig. Laughed at one of Chim’s dumb impressions. Even helped Ravi fix a stuck drawer in the supply closet.

But every time I caught Bobby’s eye—just a passing glance in the kitchen or a nod during call debriefs—it felt like something tightened in my chest.

He didn’t treat me any differently. Didn’t say a word about the coffee or the conversation or that split-second pause before I walked away last shift. But it was there. We were there. Still suspended in that space between everything and nothing.

I’m halfway through zipping my duffel when I hear his voice from across the bay.

“Y/N? You got a second?”

My stomach does something stupid and traitorous.

I turn, nodding before my voice even works. “Yeah. Sure.”

I follow him into his office, trying to keep my breathing even. It’s quiet in here—door half closed, blinds tilted just enough to blur the outside world. He sits behind the desk but doesn’t pull out any forms or check his computer. He just gestures to the chair across from him.

I sit. Try not to fidget. Try not to look too hard at the way his eyes linger on mine a little longer than necessary.

He exhales slowly, then says, “I wanted to check in. You’ve seemed… a little off.”

That’s Bobby—cutting right through the noise with gentle precision.

I shrug, a practiced move. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Is it Buck?” he asks, and it’s not a jealous question. It’s careful. Kind.

I shake my head. “No. He’s… he’s Buck. Nothing’s wrong.”

He nods once, like he believes me. Or maybe he doesn’t—but he won’t press. That’s never been his style.

He leans back in the chair, hands folded in his lap. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About changes. About what we let ourselves want, and when.”

His words hang there, quiet and honest.

“I think,” he continues, “sometimes we hold onto things just because we promised to. Not because they still fit.”

My throat tightens. “Are you talking about you and Athena?”

He’s silent for a long moment. Then: “I’m talking about a lot of things.”

The silence that follows is thick, full of everything we could say and everything we’re too afraid to.

I nod slowly, my fingers twisting in my lap. “I’ve been thinking too.”

His eyes flicker. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I look down at my hands, then back at him. “And I don’t know what it means yet. I just know something’s… shifted.”

It’s the closest I can come to admitting the truth out loud.

He studies me for a long moment, then gives a small, almost sad smile. “That’s okay. Shift happens slowly. One degree at a time.”

I return the smile, even though it aches a little. “You’d know.”

The air between us shifts again. Just a breath—barely a beat.

But something changes.

He steps out from behind the desk. Not fast. Not dramatic. Just closes the space in a way that feels intentional. Measured. Like he’s spent the whole day thinking about whether this was the moment, and finally decided he can’t let it pass.

My breath catches as he stops in front of me. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of him, smell the coffee still lingering on his clothes.

His voice is low. Steady. “Tell me to stop.”

I should.

God, I should.

But I don’t.

I don’t say a word.

So he kisses me.

Soft. Brief. Nothing wild or possessive—just the kind of kiss that says everything he hasn’t. Everything we haven’t.

When he pulls back, his eyes stay on mine like he’s afraid to move, afraid to breathe too loud and shatter what just happened.

I take a step back. Not because I regret it—but because I can’t stay. Not right now.

“I should go,” I whisper.

He nods once, but he doesn’t apologize. And neither do I.

I walk out of his office, out of the station, into the fading daylight with my heart pounding and my thoughts a tangled mess.

I kissed my boss.

I kissed Bobby.

And I wanted to.

But I’m going home to Buck.

And I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with that.

[tacharie]

chapter 17 notes (finally)

Episode 1

MY GYATALICIOUS GOAT BENKEI IS THERE!! My favorite staff me ever since he’s so whimsical and silliness. Also because he’s more obvious with the dark wick lore, JUST LIKE NOW. So, based on Benkei’s assumption that Elias and MC were friends AND that he was suprised to here that Elias is working, it almost confirms that Elias is supposed to be around MC’s age, aka, a student. HOWEVER, what bothers me is that BENKEI, AN EMPLOYEE, doesn’t even know that Elias is working. Shouldn’t they all know each other? This could mean that there’s some sort of class system on what information goes to which teacher. This would further prove my point since the cats tend to treat different staff differently. They treat the teachers like coworkers while employees such as Benkei as lower class, as shown by the cat literally scolding Benkei for almost slipping up to mc. A bit of a stretch, but I like it so. 

Episode 2

I don’t like the conversation going on between Moby and the Chancellor right now…Especially since they are so discreet about EVERYTHING they say, even in private. There’s a clear teamwork between Moby, Hyde, and the Chancellor right now, and honestly, it makes me a little less suspicious of other teachers such as Dante (My goat) and Nicolaus (URGH.) but I digress. First, I want to point out power dynamics between the chancellor and Moby. Obviously, employer and employee, but it’s more than that. What type of authority does Cornelius have over all these other beings other than the fact that he has a say whether to lock them up or not? Appearance wise, he doesn’t have anything to prevent a revolution of anomalies against him. So why does HE specifically have authority. Is it a power he yields? Connections? Money? Or is this a representative situation? He acts as a placeholder for the real power in this specific branch and then notifies the bigger power on a situation in order to get a decree? I’ve been wondering this since episode 1 and still, there’s no story YET that connects to Cornelius’ role in dark wick as a whole. Next, these lines specifically between Moby and Cornelius, before they realized MC walked in:

“It only happened because Professor Hyde didn’t explain things properly when he dumped THIS on me?” -Moby

“How could I be expected to know that he STILL had the intellect to OPEN THE GATE by himself?” -Moby 

“That blindfolded weirdo… always using those ‘BUSINESS TRIPS’ of his as an excuse to pile things on my plate” 

“IF a CERTAIN SOMEONE were to find out where HE(???) is , our whole PLAN WOULD FALL APART” -Cornelius

“You’d better make sure THAT FOX doesn’t ESCAPE AG-(AIN)” -Cornelius

ARE THEY HOLDING SOMEONE CAPTIVE BRO??? LIKE NOT AN ANOMALY BUT A PERSON?? Maybe it is an anomaly though idk. A fox?? Chat search up Japanese fox legends maybe that’ll help. Also… I suspect it’s a person because they say “intellect” to “open THE gate”. I know anomalies can be hella smart, but I just love how much darker it WOUKD be that they would brainwash someone to lose cognitive skills to keep them captive. Also, it’s not A gate, like a regular old gate and lock, but THE gate. What makes this gate special? Or Am I just dumb and they’re just mentioning the fox’s gate? And this isn’t something Moby was supposed to do, but Hyde. I hate this guy so much, and he’s on so many BUSINESS TRIPS. Is this why he needs Romeo wrapped around his finger and Sho too? YALL CANT FORGET SHO IS A PART OF THIS TOO. Finally, let’s look at what Cornelius said about someone finding HE. This one I was a little confused with because HE can be either Hyde, which means Cornelius needs Hyde’s business trips for his plan, or the fox, which means the fox is a big disruptive force against Cornelius. If it is the fox, why refer to it as HE?? HE would imply that, yeah, this thing is a person, or at least humanoid wouldn’t it? Now, CERTAIN SOMEONE. This concerns me. If HE is Hyde, this wouldn’t really make sense right? I would assume his business trips would be shady to anyone other than the staff, so maybe that rules him out. If HE is the fox, this makes more sense. Still, why a specific person? If they were exposed to said fox, what would happen? Perhaps memories coming back?? (Cough cough Jiro, Taiga, Dante). Sighs. Idk this is so vague to debunk (hehe get it)

“As contestants on a dating show!” I CALLED IT. IN MY LAST POST. OH MY DAYS LOW IT DONT CHAT WITH ME BRUV. Wait this is low-key awkward I was js joshing. URGH these text options are gonna be so corny aren’t they…

Episode 3

I guess it’s not surprising they have connections to the entertainment industry to get us in but like… why THESE GHOULS. CHANCELLOR SAID THAT THEY WERE “hand-picked” SO WHY THEM??? 

Ohhh wait?? The staff of the show hand-picked them? Huh. 

I mean, I knew MC was gonna be on the show but like. Nooooo… nooooooo :((((…. AND THEY’RE FIGHTING FOR HER. Aw hell nah. Cooked. Fried. I hate this already. AND IM STILL SO MAD THEY DIDN’T LET LUCA JOIN. LIKE, DONT THESE SHOWS ALWAYS HAVE ONE FOREIGNER. URGHHHH. 

I don’t like.. how Cornelius talks. LIKE I KNOW I KEEP SAYING THIS BUT.. he sounds old. Like really old. “Modern people continue to make troublesome and unnecessary things” … is this a Lillia situation? I’m be actually never thought of Cornelius as much until today tbh. 

DID HE JUST THREATEN US?? “You need information of anomalies to break your curse and you can only get that by working with the institute” AFTER MY HOMEGIRL LITERALLY TRIES TO TELL YALL THAT SHES SCARED OF DYING DUE TO HER CURSE. So proud of her for speaking her mind just hate these bitches for pushing it down like it’s nothing. I know what he means is different but there’s always an undertone when they speak “Can’t exactly find your cure without our help now can you? So, just listen to us and follow our lead” yikes.

Star festival? No SHUT THE HELL UP CORNIEUS IM TRYNA LEARN. I want to know if this is a “make a wish upon a star” situation, a gamble even. Moby says the curse could be ——- by the star festival? Does he mean “it can end by the star festival” or “you could use the star festival to end your curse”. Huh.

Episode 4

“You want to order a s-s-swimsuit” Please don’t be a pervert, I beg of you. 

Yk, now that I think about it, Benkei acts a LOT like Lyca, and I think that’s why I like them so much. What I mean by that is they both act like clueless little smurfs navigating through the human world and they’re still trying to learn and improve. That’s by thing though, Why does Benkei act like that? Is that why he’s a grocer and not a teacher? Is he an anomaly? Honestly, don’t care, he’s still my goat. 

Episode 5 

Ok so “KP” and the driver guy. First off, they have eyes so… maybe bad news there. Secondly, they’re so normal it makes me hurl. 

Sorry chat, I got so distracted by his beauty I forgot to pay attention to wording. ANYWAY WOOO!! First day already spending it with ACO let’s gooooo

Episode 6

WHAT IS THIS INTRO 😭😭😭… This reminds me of Single’s Inferno it’s NOT even funny.

Yo wait guys. Host is kind of a hottie too. He’s a hear me out though so. I HOPE HE DOESNT DIE :d

The freaking name of the person MC is choosing is blank. Please don’t tell me we choose. DAMN IT ALL KP. YOU HAD ONE JOB… NOOOOO GUYS I DONT WANNA DO THIS NOOOOOOO… I can’t wait to see how MC reacts to the guys that are coming since … I got spoiled … 😓

Episode 7

Guys what if I said I was in love with Aco. HE CALLED MC CUTE AYYYYY LOVE HIM ALREADY. 

STOOOPPPPOO WAIT I RECOGNIZE THAT GIGGLE!! IS THAT MY GLORIOUS GOAT RUI!!!

Episode 8

IT IS !!! OMGOMGOMGOMGOG HE LOOKS SO PRETTYLICIOUS IN THAT SUIT!! HIS HAIR IS DIFFERENT. Wait low-key… smash. HIS HAIR IS SO STYLISH. Chat, I can’t wait for his card to come. YOOO THERES THE CUT SCENES IN THE BOOTHS. Y’all, these guys are so good at acting. They’re cooking frl.

JIROOOOO!!! That random guy in the background of his close up was so funny 😭😭… ANYWAYS MMMM ATE THAT KING !! Wait I’m low-key concerned like what if he passes out. He’s HORRIBLE at acting, get this guy some smart glasses for the script. HE LITERALLY SAID “Line?” 

OH MY DAYS!! EVERYONE STAY CALM! ITS MY GOATIEST OF GOATS HARU!!! AHHHHHHHH HARU I’VE MISSED YOUUUU!!! His little side swept is so cute URGHHHH I WANNA BITE HIM. He looks so weird without Peekaboo tho :( HE MENTIONED HE WAS A SINGLE FATHER AHHHHH MY HEART

My poor homeboy Rui is saving EVERYBODY’S ASSES 😭😭…

Episode 9

Damn it. It’s that RAT. He’s good at playing along with Rui, I’ll give him that. I’m just l confused how Darkwick let them choose HIM or even give HIM as an option.

WAS HARU A DRUG USER??? NOOOOO NO STOP. I HOPE ITS JUST THE ACTING PART BUT WAIT WHAT IF HE WAS. Cause Jiro pulls out needles which I assume is his medicine for when he feels sick (thank goodness), but then Haru says “JUST TRUST ME- one day you’re gonna regret this. Stop while you can!” I know this was supposed to come off as funny, but the more we learn about Haru the sadder it gets :(. 

Ok, his hair is low-key iffy to me. It suits him (cause he’s hot) but idk… I like his old hair better. Who let my boy Jin on this show ? This guy is NOT acting… YOOOO HES A PIANIST!!! Awwww :(((…

WHO. IN THEIR RIGHT MIND. LET THIS LOSER ON THE SHOW. Ren legit walks like a scowl, don’t play 😭😭… OH MY DAYS AND HE CAN’T ACT. FIRST THING HE SAYS AS HE WALKS TO SEE US IS “Senpai…” SENPAI WHO??? WE’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW EACH OTHER BABESSS… 

“Pffft. What’s with those clothes? Aren’t you trying a little too hard?” I’m gonna beat your ass. That shit gave me so much second hand embarrassment I had to take a lap… This guy bro… 

MC DA GOAT PULLING THROUGH RAHHHH!! Stop blushing Ren, shes tryna save your stupid ass from failing more than you already have. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LUCAAAAA 😭😭

Episode 10

Watch Ren be a fan favorite 😔…

Haru x Rui are freindship goals I love them 😭!! Ok, I’m so glad Jiro mentioned his medicine thing, it SHOUKD be fine. LMFAOOOO HARU BEING HERE FOR A BONUS 😭😭 I LOVE JABBERWOCK !!

Ren being a surfer will never not be funny to me. But besides that, they changed the awards based on the ghouls they chose right? Jabberwock and Rui is a money bonus (I assume), Edward is js here, Jiro wants the anomaly… what would Jin want? He has money, hell, he’s the richest character. What does HE need? 

Episode 12

Good golly, sometimes I hate MC’s choice of words. GRRRR GRRRRRR… I HATE IT HERE. RELEASE ME. 

Ok so I think the choice thing between Jin and Rui wasn’t gonna change anything so YIPPEE :3!! THANKS FOR LEAVING JIN!!! 

Awwwww Rui and MC date is going cute so far! … is Haru drunk already?

Episode 13

Guys I <3 Haru… 

I HATE IT WHEN HE SAYS HE FORGETS TO EAT GET THIS MAN A CARETAKER PLEASEEEEE 😭😭

I verbally and physically sighed at the sight of Ed, damn it. Thank goodness gracious my goat Jiro was there!! He would protect me! EDWARD GET YOUR GRUBBY FAT FINGERS OFF OF ME. JIRO HELPPPP. Tf does he mean SHARE her? Aw hell nah. Jiro, the goat, reading his women literature to a tee, I love that little tall man.

Episode 14

… I guess if the arm thing was in the script then it’s ok… I GUESS.

Jin is smart low-key. Using his connections so he doesn’t have to be on the show AS much. Honestly, relatable, serving dihh! 

AWWWWWWWW!!! REN AND RITSU ARE ON A FIRST NAME BASIS!!! YAYYAYAYAYA REN X RITSU FANS RISEEE!! 

WHAT WAS THAT REACTION TO THE MARRIAGE QUESTION JIRO??? I HEARD A THUMP. NOOOOOO JIRO’S GONNA DIE AND ITS ALL OUR FAULT!!!! Wait, Ed’s response is kinda cute. AWWWW HE’S TALKING ABOUT OBSCUARY 😭😭 AHHHHHH LYCA I MISS YOUUUU.

Ren, please lock in BRUV. ACO. ACO IS A PUPPET!?! NOOOOO ACOOOOO 😭😭😭

Episode 15

Wait chat! CHAAAATT! Can I choose the ghost lady as my one true love? Hello sailor 👅👅!!! Anyways, so we need to keep shooting the stupid dating show in order to get out of this place? It cannot be that easy? THERE’S A FIELD??? Aw hell nah I quit. Lmao Ren focusing on login bonuses is so real …

Sincere love??? We’re cooked.

Episode 17-18 

So basically, yada yada yada something about a woman wanting to direct the show of Waves of Love but couldn’t cause she died so now she’s haunting the sets. But that still doesn’t explain why people are going missing. If it really was her ghost, wouldn’t she try helping the missing people so that they can continue shooting? Or is it that she’s taking them because we’re following a script and she wants SINCERE love and not bogus? If it is the first option, is this a clear protagonist (ghost lady) vs. antagonist (I assume man that appeared in Episode 1) situation? 

Also, the pearl in the first set went unscathed and just left EVEN THOUGH we saw a cutscene of a woman (I assume is the pearl fue to her swimsuit) getting “attacked” with a guy. Huh. 

“We’re cooked guys!” LMFAOOO

Episode 19

Look at my girl MC being sooooo studious and helpful in her own way :3!! Having to repeat a thought so that you believe isn’t reassuring in itself though 😭

NOOOOOOOOO. NO TRUE LOVE!!! THAT SHOULD BE ME, HOLDING YOUR HAND… MCCCCCC DONTTTT!!! 

First words Jin says to her is “Took you long enough”. Alright whatever it’s cool (FUCK you) TEE HEE TEE HEE WE BORROWED A DRYER FROM THE GOAT ACO :3!!! YAYAYYAY!! 

Ok so Jin’s artifacts time!!! 

“No. It won’t work if something anomolaus is affecting the space” (Jin)

“Darkwick did permit you to carry it, after all. Our special artifacts tend to be somewhat inconvenient” (Edward)

Yeah it sucks that it has that sort of limit, cause then it’s just useless isn’t it? Wouldn’t you want that artifact most in these types of situations? I agree with Edward (for once) because it does , I guess, SEEM like Darkwick just gives them “bonuses” or “tools” that barely serve them any purpose. Doesn’t allow for them to do too much I guess.

“Seems pretty likely  that the anomaly is the ghost of the original producer and the cause of all this” (Jiro)

“Gotcha. If attacking us physically would use up all her power or if it’s already getting chewed up maintaining that barrier, that’d make sense” (Haru)

“She may only be able to use her full power here, on this island of Love” (Edward) 

“Right, ghosts are way more stable if they use a place or object they’re attached to as a medium” (Rui) 

Ok so I agree… with most of this so far. It would make sense since the ghost’s motive is to continue filming Waves of Love, so I that’s why she’s staying. First problem I have with the conversation is why assume she would attack us physically? Because she’s a ghost? That wouldn’t go with her goal to film Waves to Love to begin with since she wants the group to keep filming. Secondly, I have a bit of a problem with what Edward and Rui said. First off, isn’t this a different island than where they were originally filming at? ( I swear I’m not crazy) That either means she wasn’t connected to the missing people at all and they discovered a new anomaly, or two, she’s not connected to the island, but rather, the crew. If it IS the original sight, then I guess what Rui and Edward says fits. 

I hate Edward. I HATE THIS OLD WRINKLY SMELLY BAG OF FLESH I HATE HIM I HATE HIMMMMM. WHY’D YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT AWKWARD???? THIS ISN’T NICE. “You and the man you choose can leave this island” URGHHHHH. I’m automatically picking Haru, the only one I’ll feel tbad for are my boys Jin, Jiro, and Rui… 

Episode 20

Well duh, I had to choose somebody. I was js gonna choose the worst contestant for shock value. Now what … 😔. I’m hoping you’re right Rui!! Trust there’s always another way!! See, we finally agree Ren! Irl, I probably wouldn’t date… NONE of these guys. Not that they’re not great, I js don’t like dating. Lmao “Really?” was probably just because he was curious I guess.

OK NEW TERMS: 

Neutral, Sympathizers, and Dissidents

Ed and Rui being neutral… doesn’t surprise me. They’re at a risk if they help either side. Well, in Ed’s case, it’s more entertaining to be a viewer than a participant. 

FROSTHEIM BEING SYMPATHIZERS, which I assume means on Darkwick’s side, IS NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND.  It would make sense for the general students to be on darkwick’s side since most of them are rich. Not only that BUT THEY LED IT?? I doubt Yuri and Jin were a part of their group though, them being ghouls and all. Guess that’s another reason Yuri detests Frostheim. This just makes the relationship between Yuri and Jin sadder :(. 

Dissidents was Montkraken, which is one of the obvious ones. Yuri was probably a radical in Frostheim’s system and practically exiled. STOP THE ANGST I CAN IMAGINE BETWEEN YURI AND JIN YAYAYAY :D!!! 

“I’m a pacifist now, Jin” (Haru) Now? I mean, I assumed he was somewhat involved in the clash because of his arm… but still… Can anyone remind me if they ever said Jabberwock was a new dorm? If they didn’t mention it or they did say it, either way, we practically confirmed that Haru was from a different dorm from the last chapter, so it kinda has to be unless Towa was the only person in that dorm. Towa is… interesting. I want to believe he’s an anomaly and a ghoul, if that makes sense. Anyways, back to Haru. Haru is interesting as well. He has good ish relations with Romeo and Rui, which one is neutral… and the other? CHAT WAS IT CONFIRMED THAT ROMEO TRANSFERRED? Cause if he was in Frostheim first, then that would mean he was a sympathizer, which would explain most of his connections, especially with his trust towards Hyde. So would that mean Haru was also a sympathizer? Was he promised Jabberwock, and maybe, Towa’s freedom, cause Darkwick HAD to have offered at least several deals to get more people on their side. WAIT I FORGOT. HARU IS CLOSE FRIENDS WITH TAIGA TOO. SO ITS NOT JS ROMEO, ITS SINOSTRA. So that doesn’t necessarily mean that Haru is a sympathizer, but is more likely to be on the same sides as Sinostra was. I’ll check back in that. I’ll add on more of them later, but I want to move on. Sorry I went on a whole tangent based on one line whoops. 

Benkei it’s ok lovely you don’t gotta apologize for nothing !! :3 Yo sick (good way) he’s Buddhist that’s cool YAYAY WE GOT A BRACELET FROM HIM WAHOO!!! Ren is genuinely so easy to tease. At least we look good… in his standards. Look at Jiro being a big safety guard awww :3! Ok so not going outside can help tone down the curse!! Got it!! Such a lovely day to be a homebody! TF YOU MEAN “way too big a deal with this whole curse thing” (Ren) GANGALANG MC IS ABOUT TO TURN TO A FLOWER CANT YOU SEEEE??

Episode 21

Pls o now they’re playing paintball- how fun! I wanna play too though damn :(. 

First duo- Haru and Rui!! Yooo WAOT they might be goated. They have good communication, so they can coordinate well. 

Second duo- Ren and Jiro. UM WHAT. They’re both built guys, I’ll give em that. But that also makes them easy targets. There’s the lazy one and the one that gets sick easily. I highly doubt they’ll win but who knows!! Maybe Jiro will carry 🥰 or Ren pulls out his COD experience idk 

Third duo- Jin and Edward. Jin’s gonna be pissed tf off bro 😭. If he actually wants to try, that is. THEY’RE BOTH STRONG… BUT LAZY. Edward might pull out the “old frail man” card and Jin… is gonna be Jin. Maybe they’ll actually try for the script though… maybe.

… Please for the love of everything holy can Rui and Haru win. I DONT WANNA GO ON A DINNER DATE WITH ANY OTHER DUO PLEASEEEEE. I’ll miss Jiro, sure, but I don’t wanna talk to that loser boy next to him. 

LMFAOOOO EVERYONE NOT BEING IMPRESSED BY THE PRIZE. Honestly, real, it’s not even that good anyway since they already eat tg on set. 

AWWWWW MC PROTECTING RUI FOR HIS BATHING SUIT CHOICE. They’re so cute :3

Episode 22

Again, Ren talking about RITSU every time he gets. Yeahhhh they’re boy kissers.

Clearly using their stigmas and artifacts to win. Guys this cannot be real 💀… LMFAOOO REN BEING AN EASY TARGET. Ok guys … maybe let’s follow the script?? Please????? Yk the host is HEAVILY invested in this… despite just being a host. 

Ok now the good part- Jin and Edward’s convo

“Do you know where she met the Kyklos, little human prince?” (Edward)

“I expected nothing less. It must have taken some effort to acquire that information. But why on earth was THAT anomaly in Kirisagi station? How and when did Darkwick realize it was there and send a ghoul after it?” (Edward)

“ What are you IMPLYING” (Jin)

“I’m just entertaining a thought. Perhaps the reason they were pursuing the Kyklos was-“ (Edward)

Finally. FINALLY. SLIGHT TALK ABOUT THE FUCKASS KYKLOS!!! LETS GOOOO!! Ok so this … I guess can be taken into the context of the time loop theories that have been circulating the fandom. It would also explain why Taiga was on the mission, due to theories of his time loop sense or whatever. This could help end Edward’s sentence into something like “-to evade the beginning of the time loop again” Also, the fact that Jin knows brought 2 things in my mind. 1. Awww shucks he’s collecting information for us how sweet thanks twinenem!! 2. Nobody really knows… HOW we got cursed. Like they know the vague details about Kyklos but they don’t get specifics like where, which is implied to be exclusive information, according to Edward. Also, how does he know sm shit? Like I know I say he’s a loser and everything, but he’s really quite interesting. He might be “wise”, but that isn’t a vampire characteristic. Do I trust him? No, just a little more than others… OK NOW ABOUT KIRISAGI STATION. Why is THAT piece of information so exclusive that JIN, big bell baby himself, had to work for it? Edward mentions that “THAT anomaly” shouldn’t be there, meaning it’s an anomalous world, but not common for Kyklos? Does this signify anything about what Ed said on anomalies taking over and ruling over humans? I’m so confused 😭😭

Episode 24

Sighs. Edward and Jin. Dinner. Wooooo… LOOKING AT THE BRIGHT SIDE, MAYBE MORE LORE??? 

Ok ok more Rui and Edward content. And. Oh dear.

“I could turn to ash at any moment(cough)” (Edward)

“No need to worry. I’m saving my life force for you. I won’t give IT up so easily” (Edward) 

“This vessel isn’t worth it” (Rui)

What. The fuck. Are you talking about. VESSEL?? EDWARD’S USING A VESSEL??? Is that why he doesn’t immediately die after touching Rui, but just coughs up blood because it takes away some of his life force? I can’t use twilight vampire logic on this guy no more, HOW THE HELL DO YOU GET A VESSEL??? I DONT EVEN BELIEVE HES A VAMPIRE ANYMORE WHAT THE HELLY. Also, I think the “IT” that Edward is referring to isn’t just his life force, but implying his vessel. Yo. This is loco.

Episode 25

Awwww YAYAY!! Beach volleyball with Haru and Rui! I completely blew over his arm thing, is no one else confused why he still has it covered up? Like, WE (the audience) knows it’s because his arm is robotic, but THEY (the characters) don’t. Isn’t it weird to have one arm covered up? Ok so MIO. I need to remember where I see this guy’s name I swear. But basically, mentions of MIO and no longer HIM anymore so… I guess that’s good. Bad thing is, Haru doesn’t even know when he’s coming back, much less whether he’s coming back. But that’s the thing, coming back from where? 

Jiro being a cutie with his little crab friend and sand holes!! :3

NOOOOOOO NOOOOOOO BE LIKE ODYSEUS AND DONT GET IN THE WATER. (Epic hehe) PLEASEEEE MC!!! She got in the water. “Smell divine” Jump and drown. NOOOOO THE BRACELET. THATS SUPPOSED TO PROTECT US. FROM EVIL. URGHHHHH I HATE VAMPIRES I HATE THEM I HATE THEM. 

Stop the small “eh?” Before wave comes tumbling her down is so funny 😭.. YAYAYYAYA THANK YOU TWINENEM JIN!! 

Episode 26

Dinner… yayay … with Edward… yayaya, AND JIN YAYAYYA!! Edward being from Eastern Europe doesn’t surprise me at all, especially due to his name. What surprises me is that he was born near the sea. That’s cool… I guess. 

Jiro and Ren are actually such a cute duo… CHAT I LIKE THEM THEY’RE SO CUTE :((

Episode 27

Guys I’m serious, does Haru have a drug problem :(? He drinks severe amounts of alcohol and the mention of “quit while you can” with Jiro rubbed me the wrong way. 

Oh em gee I keep forgetting that these third years aren’t gonna interact with their dorms after this year 😭. Yeah Jabberwock is cooked. WAIT WHAT ABOUT LYCA IN OBSCUARY… 

OK SO… GHOST PERSON PROBABLY ISN’T PRODUCER. Kinda forgot that the ghosts are supposed to resemble the person that died whoops. I was captured by her beautifulness that I didn’t notice she had a wedding dress. 

There’s actually no way. Jin left his freaking dorm room to get away from his couple squabble with Tohma. Are you seriousness right now? WHEN HE LOOKS BACK TO TELL EDWARD TO SHUT UP, he looks so hurt.. chat I feel bad :(. 

Chat I don’t like the next episode’s name:

“There can only be three: Pearl makes a choice”

TF YOU MEAN ONLY THREE??? WHAT HAPPENS TO THE REST OF THEM??? Aw hell nah. Cooked? 

Episode 28

Oh ok nvm they just watch from the monitor room. That’s fine ig. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS A PART OF THE SCRIPT?? DID THEY SWITCH IT UP LAST MINUTE? Rui, Jiro, and Jin? Honestly, yeah,  that works. They had cute moments tg so the audience would like it. THANK GOODNESS IT WASNT EDWARD AND REN WAHOOOOO :3!! NOOOO HARU IM SORRY :(((!! Ohhh they changed their script. Lmao awww! 

Episode 29

I think they’re making Jiro read a script now 😭… The way his eyes shift to the side of the camera instead of just staring at it this time because his responses in the past were too honest makes me think his lines are just there 💀

Awww thanks twinenem Jin he’s the goat. Look at him, actually participating in the show!!! Rui’s so cute for doing that so that Jin could actually do smth AND THE BALLOONS :3!! Can someone please do a DJ Khaled Remix with Jiro, I beg!

WHY IS HE SICK AGAIN?!? WHAT HAPPENED TO POSITIVE RESULTS? Something about June 19th?

Episode 30

Huh. KP REALLY wants to keep the lady’s reputation and dream. A lil too much. KP what’s going on here lil boy.

Well. I guess Jiro REALLY doesn’t like June 19th. I guess they got the conflict they were looking for 💀…

HARU WHAT ARE YOU DOING. I CANT STOP CRINGING BRO SOMEONE STOP HIM PLEASE 😭😭… Nvm we can keep Haru here SOMEONE GET THE OLD MAN OUT OF HERE. PLEASEEEE!!! REN TOO?!? Awww wait they’re trying to help KP by making the show more conflicting awwww :3!

I’m gonna kms. When the host guy started panting, I was near my sister AND IT SOUNDED LIKE YAGAMI YATO SOUNDS NOOOOOOOO. Anyways where’d you run from my boy 😓… SURPRISE IMPRESSION?? I DONT WANT THEIR FOOD. The host isn’t smiling anymore, was this just to cover up what the other guys did orrrrr 😭

Episode 31

No wonder KP has eyes, it was too good to be true. Maya this Maya that WHAT IS GOING ONNNN KP??? 

MAYA WAS ENGAGED??? AND SHE WAS CHEATED ON?????? FOR HER BEST FRIEND???????? AW HELL NAH. IF I WAS KP I WOULDVE MURDERED THE BOTH OF EM. That’s so sad :(. Ok so … this was the original filming sight? Or just where she was planning on filming? Man whatever I give up. WHERE SHE GOT ENGAGED???? Aw hell nah I’d kms too.

Y’all we are ALL cooked, I don’t like none of y’all like that :(. 

Episode 32

I keep forgetting Haru has a lot of siblings :((. YALL THEY HAD LIVES BEFORE THIS!! SET THEM FREE!!! 

Is Edward ok, like genuinely? He ain’t gonna burn into ashes yet right? He’s still flirting so he’s fine … 💔

Awwwww wait I’m gonna cry. The ghouls mentioning families before Darkwick makes me so sad like, I want to see fanart of Ren helping his dad :(…

DO WE KNOW HIS SPECIAL ABILITY YET?? WE DO RIGHT?? I forgot what it was though damn… Raothtas CHAT PLEASE HELP ME WE HEARD HIM USE HIS POWER RIGHT??? Ok yes he did, I checked the wiki. The thing is, he only used it to help clean calamari’s ink faster or boil water faster, but we haven’t gotten it’s explaination? Efficiency?? If it is I wanna talk about the theory that their stigmas are connected to what they wished for. Did Ren wish for something to happen faster or to gain something with less work? 

WAS HE NEAR THE BEACHES?? Is that why he was so shocked to be casted a surfer? Is that why he LOOKS like a surfer?? ARE YOU A SURFER, REN??? Awww the calamari sound when they cooked the octopus scared him 😭😭 I MISS OUR OCTOPUS FRIEND!!! 

Episode 33

STOP THEY’RE GONNA READ IT TO US??? NOOO IM GONNA CRINGE SO BADDDDD 😭😭…

Ren’s speech is so him. Simple, to the point… tearing down the other guys for being weird so that checks out 

HARUUU HAI ML :3!!! He’s got the single dad thing going for him and it’s so cute to see :((. URGHHHH PEEKABOO AND HARU AND THE FAMILINESS OF THEM I CANT TAKE IT. 

JIRO HAIII TWINENEM!! That was horrible but ykw I fw it because it’s you. :3

URGH you. The RAT. EW DO NOT TOUCH MC’S LAP YOU FREAKKKK. On another note, I wanna go back to this line: “I can’t help but feel nostalgic when I’m with you…” he mentioned MC beong similar to a “her” before… wonder if that is connected 

RUIIII HAIIII  STINKABUTT!! HES SO CUTIELICOUS THANKS FOR BEING SM FUN ( and for dropping angsty lore)

JINN DA GOAT!!! HOW YOU DOIN!! Frl thought he wasn’t gonna show up. WHATTTTT!! “You’re mine. That’s all there is to it” Straight out of a shoujo 🥲!! 

Sighs. SIGHHHS. We don’t actually have to choose right?

Episode 34

I hate this already. I don’t wanna chooooose. There’s no script? You sure? YAYAYAYAY THE GHOST INTERRUPTED!! THANK TOU GHOST!!

Nevermind FUCK you. You just came to threaten me to choose. Damn, who’d I like the most. DEFINETLY not Edward… not Ren… I’m acting like this choice will matter but like IT DOES TO ME!! Umm I like Jiro’s random science facts… I like Haru’s silliness but I haven’t seen enough of him to truly like him. I like honest characters. :(… Sighs Jiro it is.. OH WAIT THERE’S A NO ONE OPTION!! YAYAY NEVERMIND! 

The choice didn’t even matter anyway bruh. MC didn’t even say it. Ohhhh so the thing Jin found was a ringgg. Que cool que cool… andddd hottie ghost is gone. I CANT HAVE NOTHING. That’s it?? Really?? 

Episode 35 

Awwww everyone checking in on their texts and the people back at Darkwick!! So cute!! 

Ok so searched up Okayama and honestly, a little more traditional than I thought it would be. Haru seems more of a city type, but hey, maybe he adapted to Tokyo. 

Ohhhhh I was overthinking the whole case. Man I’m a loser this is negative aura 😔… 

OH EM GEEZERS WHEEZERS GUYS ITS MY AWESOMEST GOAT BENKEI!!! HAIIII BENKEI!!! 

HOST… HOST GUY IS WITH DARKWICK??? WHATTTT??? Nah ganagalang, ts is too much.  BENKEI IS A PROFESSOR? Or was. STILL!!! Ohhhh he was a supervisor of Clementia… aka the dorm that got obliterated after the clash… Chat does this mean (or most likely mean) that BENKEI was a part of the sympathizer vs dissident squabble? Huh. Anyways wow thanks for reading :3!! Leave some thoughts, comments, criticisms idc. I love theories so let’s … DEBUNK (heh) this tg :3! TOODLES

[rozugold]

google how do I stop being mad over something stupid

[11yellowdaffodils]

If you say “kill/eat the rich” you’re gale, if you say “yeah rich people suck but the real thing that’s killing us is the system that allows them to get so rich in the first place, we need to dismantle that” then you’re katniss. Gale isn’t the worst character in the books, he is just a victim of his environment. He’s so full of anger and resentment, so of course Coin is going to take advantage of that. That’s what makes a perfect soldier for a new dictators army. Suzanne’s whole point with gale is that he starts like any of us do, but katniss actually has the perspective of meeting all of these capital citizens and sees them as people, while Gale is incapable of seeing them as human. If you want to win a revolution, you need to humanize the perceived enemy in order to see who/what the real oppressors are.

[daniel-r-h]

The tl;dr of my response is that you are focusing on the wrong “consumer”. The consumer is the end user of the application, who wants your program to work the same way as all the other programs they use, and GTK and QT reimplementing things does not accomplish that. There should be libraries that make it possible for the programmer to make their program work the same way as other programs on the target platform, for multiple target platforms; the only one I know is wxWidgets and I want others too. Alternately I want wxWidgets to have good bindings for every language I might ever want to write a GUI program in, and they donʼt.

I don’t know, but presumably not. why the fuck would it?

Because when Iʼm on Windows I want a button that works like a Windows button does. You either need to reimplement a lot of stuff for every operating system to approximate that, or you need to actually use the native tools available.

I don’t know what native ctrl key navigation is on Mac OS but if you mean ctrl-left to skip a word bak yes. do you gtk and qt were born yesterday.

I should hope it doesnʼt do that. You want Option+Left to skip a word back, on a mac. To go to the beginning of a line you can use either Command+Left or Control+A. Other Control+<letter> codes do other things, many but not all of which are derived from terminal navigation. All programs written by Apple for MacOS, and most third-party ones which use Apple libraries like Cocoa, support this kind of thing. That is why you donʼt want to reimplement it yourself, or youʼll do thinks you think make sense instead of things your users think make sense.

spell check presumably, firefox is built on gtk and has spellcheck

Does it interface with the operating system spell check, or use its own? If it uses its own, does it implement all the same shortcuts? Does it have its own dictionary so if I have a new word I need to add it to the Mac dictionary and one or more others so GTK apps also see it? It might share the dictionary; that seems relatively easy unless Apple makes it difficult. But it probably does not behave the same way.

well no, you’d have to write code to implement that in gtk. but this is just if gui library 1 implements feature x will gui library 2, too? obviously not without work.

Or, hear me out here, you could have the library use the native stuff instead of rewriting it. That way, just like a browser can implement links and they supposedly work the same way for everyone (even though sites often reimplement their own shitty version), you can get the system implementing text boxes and then they work the same way for everyone instead of apps or frameworks reimplementing their own shitty version.

this is the correct approach because the consumer of a gui toolkit should not need to think about which os it runs on. the gui toolkit should abstract that away. it is a design mistake to have the operating system provide a gui toolkit tied to that is and only that os.

This is not the right approach for the end user. They should not even have to have heard of a GUI toolkit; things should just work consistently. You are putting the needs of the programmer ahead of the needs of the user, and not considering the other options. The user of the application wants it to work like other applications. The way to work like other applications is to use the same library as other applications. Yes, that would be terrible for the programmer, which is why I like wxWidgets, which uses different backends for the different systems so you can have both cross-platform support and actual native experience. There are things wxWidgets doesnʼt do well, which is why I wish more even considered that approach.

os ≠ kernel

Yeah, thatʼs my point. The OS does have a concept of window manager and how a textbox behaves, even though they arenʼt in the kernel. You should match the OS there by making OS native windows and textboxen.

a corporate website has found a new way to suck: it scrolls without scrolling, behaving exactly like a scrolled website would (not hijacking your scroll for a horizontal slideshow or anything, just moving the content vertically up and down) but it isn't actually scrolling so you don't get a usable scroll bar

who let the web developers learn eastern philosophy, this isn't how wu wei is supposed to be used

[ezdotjpg]

I’m gonna be so real I don’t regret quitting my job when I did bc it was truly tearing me apart and the company went under 4 months later and laid off everyone anyway bc it was truly a disastrous workplace but. I rlly thought the nightmare would be over by now 💀 I lose my health insurance in a month 💀 really fun times

[clumsypuppy]

oooh wait so the plot hole of “why doesnt a spirit medium just channel the victims spirit” is literally bc the DL-6 spirit channeling cant be repeated huh

[stillgotscars]

.

[we-are-not-afraid-92]

anyone else out there who can’t stop thinking about orlok in the sunlight and going kind of feral because oh my god he looks so beautiful but also he’s about to die horribly ;_;