#I hope you guys enjoy reading this <3

[liliansun]

NEVER LET ME GO | LDH

pairing | lee haechan x fem reader

synopsis | it’s pretty much a given when it comes to friends of a long time that one will fall for the other, so you’re not surprised by how long you’ve kept it to yourself. unbeknownst to you, you’re not the only one holding things back and once the truth is out there’s no going back.

genre | university au, childhood/best friends -> lovers, fluff, angst

warnings | swearing, haechan is kinda rude, mentions of sex (non-detailed, just briefly brushed over), winter calls jaemin an idiot (playfully)

featuring | nct dream, heeseung from enha, chaewon from lesserafim, winter from aespa, ryujin from itzy

wc | 6.2k

a/n | shoutout to ash for beta-reading this for me and screaming in pms as she did so 🥺❤️ @ethereal-engene

I. WHEN WE WERE YOUNG

Ever since you were a kid, you always looked forward to growing up. Even if it was just a couple years older than the age you were at, you were constantly thinking about what milestone you would accomplish in the following years. You wouldn’t say this all changed when you met Haechan at the ripe age of 9, but he definitely did hinder your outlook on growing up. Haechan was the type of kid to live in the moment, never once taking the day for granted which truly made the phrase ‘opposites attract’ led you two into an unbreakable friendship from that point on.

As you two sit on the set of swings at a park near your neighborhood, you ponder on what will happen to the two of you as you enter high school in the upcoming semester. “You’ve got your thinking face on.” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, feeling more relaxed under his tender gaze. “What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” He adds on, playfully flicking your forehead. You wince, rubbing it with a slight pout. “I’m just thinking of what’s gonna be of you and I when we get to high school.” You never could hide from Haechan, always being an open book when it came to talking to him. When you look up from the ground, you can see his eyes soften at your worries.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen when we get to high school, but I can promise you that I’m always gonna be by your side.” You knew he was sincere, his words putting your heart at some ease. Unexpectedly, he raises his hand and holds out his pinky, something he’s always done when he makes a promise and keeps it. Smiling, you brought your hand up and interlocked your pinky with his. “Me too hyuck.” You said softly, giving his finger a gentle squeeze.

If someone passed by and saw the two of you, they would’ve assumed you’d been in love and are on your way to a relationship. They wouldn’t entirely be wrong at first glance, because you were on your way to being completely head over heels for your best friend and no one could’ve prepared you for it. When you look back to that pivotal moment in your friendship, you’d say that was the first time you finally got a taste of what loving someone could feel like and if you’re honest, you never wanted it to change.

Not much has changed over the years between you two, you’re still pretty much still stuck to the hip and spend a lot of both down and social time together. Even now that you’re both juniors in college, the two of you have found ways around your schedules for one another. While you sit on his bed, going over some notes for an upcoming test, Haechan lets out a loud sigh while slumping his head toward you. Most people would be concerned, quick to ask what was wrong and offer any help, but you knew him all too well to know this was one of his desperate attempts to get your attention. With another loud sigh, you ignore him as you turn the page in your notebook.

“Are you really ignoring me in such times?” He asks, grabbing his shirt as if he was shocked. You smile to yourself, looking up to meet his eyes and straighten your expression. “Have you ever considered that maybe I actually enjoy silence?” Haechan scoffs, turning more toward you as he sits in the chair at his desk beside the bed. “But I’m hungry, let’s go get something to eat.” You can’t deny how incredibly cute he is when he pouts, but that’s something you’d never say out loud. “I just got here 20 minutes ago and now you’re hungry?” As he pulls your notebook from your grasp, he carefully sets it on his desktop. “What if I pay?” Rolling your eyes, you let out a singular huff as you get off his bed.

Haechan takes this as a win, jumping out of his chair with his wallet in hand. “I’m picking dinner tonight.” You tell him, slipping your shoes on. He nods, grabbing his coat and shoes. “Okay, but nothing crazy expensive, I’m using Renjun’s card.” As the two of you leave his dorm, you decide somewhere on campus would settle for the two of you. “Why are you using Renjun’s card again?” You said, watching as he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his coat. “We made a bet and he lost, but I’d feel kinda bad if I blew his bank account.” You nod, continuing to walk beside him as he greets people that pass.

You’re not bothered that almost everyone on campus knows Haechan, I mean he was pretty well liked. He got along with almost anyone due to his outgoing personality and sunshine-like essence. He was essentially a charming guy who knew his way with words and it definitely worked on the girls who spared him a glance. Now that definitely bothered you, but who were you to be jealous of pretty girls wooing over your best friend? Instances like now really reminded you that you’re just the friend that’s been by his side for so many years and that the girls who call him late at night get to experience what you could only imagine, if you were imagining it.

You had continued walking when Haechan suddenly stopped to talk to what you suppose was one of his flings. She had caught his attention by calling him over and in typical male fashion, he followed the pretty girl with the pretty face. You would’ve waited for him, but who knows how long that would’ve taken if he even would’ve made it back. You entered the dining hall alone, looking straight ahead at the selection of food they have out. “What’s a girl like you doing out alone?” A familiar voice appeared behind you, bringing a small smile to your lips. You grabbed a tray and started to get items to accompany your main dish.

“Oh you know, I’m just enjoying the silence before a hurricane comes through.” You said, watching out of your peripheral view as Jeno cracked a similar smile. “Oh yeah? Where’s he at anyway?” He said, grabbing something for himself as he followed behind you. “Talking to some girl by the lab hall.” You stated, going down to pay for your food. “Figures, I bet he was the one who opted for food too.” He says, paying behind you as you wait for him. You give him a nod, following beside him as you two walk to the table where the rest of your friends were sitting.

“Well well well, look who’s finally alone.” Jaemin announced upon your arrival. “She’s not alone if she’s with Jeno, Nana.” Winter said matter-of-factly. “Lover boy is shooting his shot outside and left this gem by herself.” Jeno sat beside you, clicking his tongue as he talked. “Yeah well, one man’s loss is another man’s treasure and I’d like to be that woman.” Ryujin said, playfully winking at you. You laugh, rolling your eyes as you’re about to dig in. Just when you bring the food to your lips, Haechan brings his hands down to your shoulders with enough force to startle you.

“Why’d you get food without me, I said I was gonna pay!” He says, whining as he looks at your plate. You turn your head, staring at his almost guilty expression. “Hyuck, you were off doing your thing so I came to get food.” He sits on the opposite side of you with a frown, picking some food he knew you only got for him off your tray. “Since some of us are here can we talk about the back to school party this weekend?” Winter announced. Jaemin whipped his head toward her slowly, squinting his eyes. “You do know it’s been a month since school started right?” His lack of ability to pick up the slight sarcastic meaning by the party title earned him a punch to the shoulder by Winter. “Yes you idiot, god why do you even talk.”

Jaemin winces as he rubs his shoulder, mouthing to you with a smile that Winter was apparently in love with him. You giggle, continuing your meal till it was nearly done. When you finally notice that Haechan took the cake you had, you frown. You could’ve easily gotten another one, but the one you had was one of the last few on display. Jeno noticed your sudden sadness and put his cake onto your tray. You flash him a smile, mentally thanking him. The rest of the table watches the exchange happen and even more so how Haechan’s expression changes while watching. As you look up confused as to why everyone was eyeing the three of you, you then turn your head to Haechan who was giving Jeno a hard stare.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, he seems to visibly soften at your touch while shifting his gaze onto you instead. “Okay, now that whatever that was is over, I’m gonna go.” Ryujin says as she gets up from the table. You give her a questioned look as she signals for you to follow her. Winter does the same, stealing your cake off your tray. “My cake!” You say, quickly walking around the table to get your dessert. “Sorry hyuck, I’m stealing your girl!” She says as she and Ryujin giggle while leaving the dining hall. You have to jog to catch up to them, finally getting the cake from Winter. “So are we gonna just ignore that or what?”

“Ignore what?” Ryujin scoffs as Winter looks at you in shock. “C’mon y/n, you can’t tell me that boy isn’t head over heels for you.” You don’t comment, staring down at your cake while following along the girls. “Jeno was just being sweet, don’t read too much into it.” “No girl, not Jeno, Haechan!” Winter says, smiling at you widely. “Even I saw those heart eyes throwing fireballs at Jeno when he gave you his food, man was saying ‘don’t touch my girl’.” You shrug, trying to shake off the sickly sweet feeling you have in your stomach. As much as you’d want Haechan to reciprocate your feelings, you don’t ever see it happening.

“He’s not like that, we’re just friends.” Judging by the way the two of them look at you, you know they don’t buy it. If you’re honest, you don’t either, but purely from a one-sided point of view. Only in your dreams will you ever be more to Haechan and throughout the years you’ve learned to accept that. “Whatever you say girl.” Winter says, interlocking her arm with yours. “Speaking of, when was the last time Haechan ever got jealous, do you know?” Ryujin asks, slinging one arm around your shoulder. You smile to yourself at the thought of the memory in mind. “When we were young.”

II. HEADACHE

The next time you saw Haechan was days later when he showed up at your dorm unannounced. You were sitting in bed, headphones in with your calming playlist on mid volume in attempts to soothe your headache. You took some pain medicine to help aid your throbbing head, but nothing seemed to relieve the misery. Your roommate Chaewon decided to go out to study so that you could lay in the dark till you were feeling better. As she opened the door with all her books and bag in hand, Haechan was the last person she expected to see behind it. “Oh, uh did y/n call you over?”

“No, I came to surprise her.” He said, holding up a bag with some of your favorite snacks. He sensed you weren’t in a good mood through the way you were responding to his texts earlier and he did what he thought would cheer you up and bought you food and a drink. “Take care of her, yeah? Her head is hurting badly.” She said as she walked past him while he entered. He saw you laying in bed with the blanket up to your cheeks, the curtains covering the windows beside your bed. Quietly, he takes his shoes off and sets the bag down by your bed. You had yet to notice his presence while he started taking the snacks out and laying them on your bedside table.

When you turned over, you weren’t entirely surprised to see him beside you. You paused the music, taking a headphone out to hear him humming along to the music that was playing. “What are you doing here hyuck?” You asked as you moved over in your bed to make room for him. He pushed the cover back gently, climbing into your bed and taking the headphone you had offered up. “I noticed you were off in text today so I brought you some stuff to see you smile.” You were truly down so bad, the simplest yet sweetest gesture had you flushed in the cheeks and you couldn’t help it. To hide how hot your face got, you pushed your head against his chest once he got comfortable.

“Just a headache is all.” You mumbled, listening to his heart beat inside his chest. You felt your mind start to relax under his touch, the feeling of him rubbing the back of your hair had you hyper aware of his gentleness. A comfortable silence continued on between the two of you, just the sound of music and soft breathing filled the room. “Are you planning to go to that party Winter mentioned?” You suddenly ask, feeling his chest rise a little more at your question. “Dunno, you going?” You nod, blinking at the fading light peeking through the window by your roommate’s bed. “Maybe I’ll go just to protect you from any wandering eyes.”

You sat up, smiling down at Haechan. “Wandering eyes? What are you now, my father?” You said, laughing a little as he sat up. “I’m serious y/n! Some guys are out to get pretty girls like you who just so happen to be all alone.” You said that so confidently that you couldn’t help, but to laugh. “Why are you laughing, huh?” With one brow raised, he eyed you as you started to calm down. “Nothing, you’re just too funny.” Haechan sat up quickly, switching the way you two were positioned in your bed. He was now hovering above you, hands immediately finding their way to your most ticklish spots. “Oh so I’m funny now huh? Do you find this funny?”

You couldn’t stop laughing as you tried to fight off his devilish hands. After what seemed like nearly 10 minutes of being tickled nonstop, Haechan moved his hands away from your sides to let you catch your breath. Unbeknownst to you, he was watching the way your eyes crinkle when you smiled. Bringing one hand up to your cheek, he pulls a piece of your hair away from your face. You suddenly went stiff, watching his eyes shift from yours down to what you could only imagine was your lips. Your breath seemed to be caught in your throat as you noticed how he didn’t look up nor did he move.

You didn’t know what to do, whether to move in and close the space between you or to make your way from underneath him and pretend this didn’t happen. Your heart was saying one thing, but your mind opted for another. You cleared your throat, bringing Haechan to his senses as he got off from above you and stood beside the bed. His cheeks were a light shade of pink as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So yeah, uh as I said earlier.” He said, shifting his eyes around the room to ease the awkward tension. “The snacks, yeah..the snacks.” He could feel your gaze on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it.

A couple minutes pass while silence fills them before either of you speak up. You’re about to try and change the subject when you hear his phone go off. Normally when he was with you, he’d only have select contacts on for notification so you assumed it must’ve been his roommate. Glancing at the caller ID when he pulls it out, you knew whoever it was that she must’ve been important. Something about his expression makes your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. He almost smirks at his phone before realizing where he’s at and what had just happened.

“I think I’m gonna go.” He said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Silently, you nod without meeting his eyes. You could practically feel the tears starting to sting as they welp up, opting to not cry in front of Haechan over something you consider dumb. He can sense the change in atmosphere, your posture and sudden energy makes his heart break, but he’s too scared to comfort you after what happened just moments ago. “I’ll see you at the party y/n.” He said as he left while you looked over at the way he laid your snacks. Part of you wonders if he knows what he’s doing to your heart and part of you thinks it’s just how he is and that maybe you’re not as special as you hope you are to him. Either way, he has your heart in his hands and it’s too delicate now compared to your reappearing headache.

III. FAIRY GODMOTHER

“So you’re telling me that he was about to suck your face off, but for a message from his booty call and left?” You stare at your roommate, quite shocked at the way she worded everything from what you all told her. “Yeah, pretty much I guess.” You replied, throwing your head back onto the bed with a groan. You could hear her laughing, lifting your head to see her hysterically laughing into her hand. “I don’t see what’s so funny.” You continue, trying to hold back from joining her. As she calms herself down, she straightens up while wiping away her tears. “I knew transferring to SMU was gonna be different than HYBE-U, but y’all are a different breed on this campus.” She says, getting up from her chair that she pulled beside your bed and made her way toward your closet.

“What exactly are clothes gonna do to salvage what dignity I have left?” You asked, getting off your bed to meet her in your closet. She rummages through your clothes in the back, a section of clothes you never really wore unless you wanted to feel extra pretty. “We’re gonna make him jealous at the party tonight.” She said as if that was the most common sensible thing. You stare at her worriedly, especially with the outfit she had chosen. “C’mon y/n, haven’t you ever read those fanfics where the girl gets the guy jealous which lures him into confessing his underlying love for her and they live happily ever after?”

“This isn’t a fanfic nor is it a fairytale chae.” You said, watching as she turns to you with a bright smile. “C’mon, I know a couple of people who can ease your mind.” Hesitantly, you followed her across campus to one of the halls you had only been in once. You were starting to get a nagging feeling of where she was taking you, but you tried to relax and follow along with her. You entered the same dorm hall you knew that Chenle and Jisung stayed in, walking past their door with a small smile on your face. As she continued down the hall, she stopped at one door that you knew was most likely a single room.

After a few knocks and the loud music from inside the room stopping, a very tall and yet handsome guy opened the door. “Oh, hey Chaewon.” He said, instantly smiling down at her. “Heeseung, this is my friend y/n who also doubles as a roommate and we kinda need your help.” She says, walking past him to enter his room. Unfazed, he steps aside and gestures for you to enter the room as well. Upon entering, you recognize almost immediately that he was a music major. He had music sheets laid across his desktop, an acoustic guitar on his bed and the stereo where you could only assume that the music was coming from was on his bedside table.

“Heeseung also transferred from HYBE-U, mister smarty pants graduated early so even though he looks older, he’s a year behind.” She said, taking his chair as her seat from his desk. He smiles at you, shrugging as he walks over to sit on his bed. “I just got lucky is all, don’t listen to the fairy tales she tells.” You nod, leaning against the wall while still observing his room. “So she is a fairy godmother after all?” This made Chaewon laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what’s up, did you need something or do you just enjoy my company?” Heeseung asked as he leaned against his pillows. “My dear y/n here has a case of the lovesick for her best friend who just so happens to be a fuckboy.” You groan, dropping your face into your hands while Heeseung surprisingly listens without comment. “So I need you to come to the party with us tonight that he’ll be at to kinda spice things up.”

You could hear some shuffling, but nothing was said by either of them. Just as you’re about to look up, Heeseung grabs your wrists and pulls them from your face. “Are you okay with this y/n? I know we just met, but I don’t want to tag along if you’re not down.” You had to truly think about your answer for this because this could make a lot of both good and bad things happen between you and Haechan. Part of you was too scared and slightly insecure to try and get his attention on you, but you also felt like you waited so long for this and if not now, then when. You finally nod, giving both Heeseung and Chaewon the green to get ready and go. After you and Chaewon had finished getting dressed, the two of you met Heeseung down by his car for a ride.

Winter and Ryujin were texting you nonstop on the way asking why you didn’t ride with them and once they were filled in, they completely understood. You were typing away on your phone to your friends, not noticing Heeseung smiling softly at you. “How long have you two known each other?” You look up at him confused until you follow his eyes to your lock screen. It was a picture you and Haechan took over the summer when you visited your hometown, the sun kissed his skin beautifully while you hid from it with glasses and a hat. “Over 10 years.” You answer, looking up to meet his eyes for a second. “I hope this goes well for you.” Your heart melted at his words, reaching over to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Me too because if I’m honest, I’m tired or watching you two shoot love arrows with your eyes.” Chaewon said as she got out of his car.

Both you and Heeseung got out of the car, making your way into the NCT Fraternity house. Heeseung was always one step behind you, playing into the whole idea that he was your plus one for the night. You could see some familiar faces throughout the crowd, looking around to see if you could spot one of your friends lingering around. “You two have fun, I’m gonna go find a drink.” Chaewon said, barely audible over the music before she slipped off into the crowd. “You’re not weird are you?” Your question makes Heeseung laugh, shaking his head as you seem pleased with his answer. You grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the side of the house where the kitchen and typically a pool table was at.

Just as you turn a corner, you spot Renjun and Winter talking over by the kitchen entrance. “I found some of my friends.” You said, getting a nod from Heeseung as you made your way through the crowd. “There she is!” Winter said a little louder than you expected. She throws her arms over your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. You smile, returning the hug as she laughs into your hair. “Do I know you?” Renjun asks, immediately eyeing Heeseung down. “He’s my plus one, Jun this is Heeseung, Heeseung this is Renjun.” You say, prying Winter’s arms from around you.

You fidget under Renjun’s questioning gaze, knowing he has more questions that you’d rather not answer. He senses your shift in demeanor, rolling his shoulders back in attempts to relax. “Did you already meet up with Haechan?” He says to which you answer him no. “Last time I saw him, he was somewhere out near the rooms.” You nod, bidding goodbye as you decide to take the way through the kitchen to avoid less people. “People have been eyeing us since we walked in, just a heads up.” Heeseung says as he leaned down near your ear. You start to turn to face him as someone behind you nearly knocks you over.

You shut your eyes, waiting for the impact of the floor to hit until you realize someone is holding you up, or rather someone. You can smell Haechan’s cologne behind you, making your lips instantly curl up into a smile. Just as you’re about to say something, you follow his hard gaze to Heeseung who was holding onto your wrist and hip. “Are you okay y/n?” Heeseung’s voice snaps you out of the fog that the situation puts your head in. You nod, standing up with a little more effort as Haechan’s eyes move between the two of you. “Why are you still touching her?” Haechan’s tone was something you’ve never heard before. He genuinely looked like a million things were going through his head and one of them was about to be directed to the boy beside you.

“I was helping her up, who are you again?” Heeseung asked, feeling slightly intimidated and confused as to why the boy in front of you looked like he was going to go to war for you. “I’m her best friend, Haechan, you are who again?” You put one hand on his chest, feeling how tense he was as he took deep and shaky breaths. “Heeseung, her date for the night.” When you felt his warm hand on your shoulder, you didn’t know whether to push him away or accept the warmth. “Do you mind if I steal your date then?” Heeseung looked at you, asking through his eyes if you were okay. When you gave him a nod, he slowly backed away and eventually made his way through the crowd.

Haechan grabbed your hand as soon as Heeseung was out of sight, bringing you along the back of the house and into the back yard. You immediately start to rub your arms due to the slight breeze blowing your way. “Wanna explain who the fuck that was or do I need to guess?” You were genuinely shocked by his sudden hostility, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse you? What’s your deal hyuck, he’s just a friend that came with me to the party.” Haechan laughed, a little too unsettling for you to digest before he looked back at you. “Oh so he’s a friend huh? Is that what you do with all your friends now, nearly kiss them in your fucking bed before moving on to the next?”

You felt so many emotions that took the blow from his words. You could feel your eyes start to sting as you drop your arms. “You’ve been fucking some girl or many to be exact so why the hell does it matter when one guy caught my attention, huh?” This seemed to set Haechan off more than you’ve ever seen. His cheeks were a slight shade of pink from both his anger and the bite of winter winds. “You’re in love with me y/n, we all see it and yet you go fucking around with other guys so you might as well not feelings for me!” You couldn’t tell if the city around you went silent or were his words just that loud, but you could hear your heart shatter inside your chest.

Haechan didn’t seem to register his words until he looked up at your broken expression. The tears that were now flowing freely down your cheeks stained your skin as you let go of your clenched fists. “So you knew..and you didn’t say anything?” You couldn’t bear to look him in the eye, feeling almost embarrassed at how easily you had been strung along. “Y/n, I didn’t mean it like-“ “You knew how I felt about you and instead of rejecting me you played around with girls in front of me?” You didn’t notice how close he was getting to you till he was within arms reach, so you stepped back. “Please let me explain, I’ll-“ You couldn’t be here any longer, you didn’t want to see him nor did you want anyone to see you like this.

“Fuck you donghyuck.”

IV. WHEN YOU’RE GONE

You inevitably spent weeks dodging Haechan at all costs. Since the night at the party where you two had a major falling out, you’ve spent your days in class and headed right back to your dorm if the coast was clear. If it wasn’t your roommate, it was one of your friends who kept an eye out for Haechan lingering around your door. From what they were trying to tell you, he sounded pretty desperate to see you, but you just weren’t ready yet. You stayed huddled up away from your usual spots where you know he could find you and slip away whenever you could.

Your pillow had become your best friend when you couldn’t stop yourself from crying each time your mind wandered back to that night. Chaewon did her best to comfort you and even laid with you on some nights till you fell asleep, but nothing she did could fill the void in your heart that had been caused by Lee Haechan himself. You were so hurt, so many questions that you had for him and you’d be damned if he didn’t answer them. More than that, you were confused as to why he did what he did with the information he had. He could’ve told you he wasn’t interested, he could’ve causally kept you in the friend zone instead of giving you the slightest bit of hope.

You were starting to get a headache as you sat on your bed, scrolling through videos on your phone. When the caller ID came down, you saw that Heeseung was calling you so you picked up. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive”. He says, laughing a little to lighten the mood. You let out a soft sigh, fiddling with the blanket between your fingers. “If that’s what this is called then consider me living like Larry.” When the line went silent, you could practically feel the disappointment through the phone. “Didn’t like that one?” You said, laughing as Heeseung let out a heavy sigh. “That was so bad, so so bad y/n.”

“Hyuck would’ve gotten it.” You mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear you as the tears you thought would have dried up start to reappear. “He misses you.” All of a sudden, you couldn’t think. The thought of him missing you wasn’t hard to imagine, but it made your heart ache so much more when you let yourself feel bad for creating such distance between you two. “He comes to I guess his friend’s room just down from mine and from what I’ve seen, he looks rough.” The two of you went silent once again, only untold thoughts filling in the gaps of the conversation. Heeseung takes a deep breath, about to say something when you hear a knock at your door.

“Coming!” You yell out, getting out of bed while wiping your face with your sleeve. “Are you expecting someone?” Heeseung asks through the phone, strumming on his guitar. “I ordered takeout earlier.” He only hums, bidding farewell as you throw your phone onto the bed and go to open the door. As you open the door, you don't know how exactly to react when you see Haechan standing in front of you holding what you assume is your takeout. “I paid him extra to let me be the one to deliver it, he kinda looked at me like I was insane, but he got a good tip.” He said, trying to get any form of a smile out of you.

You stare at him, nodding slowly as you take in his appearance. He looked a little thinner, the bags under his eyes slightly darker and his hair not as shiny as you remember it. Instinctively, you want to reach out and touch his cheek, but you hold back and try to figure out what to say from here. “Can I come in?” He says, fidgeting with the plastic bags in his hand. You can’t pinpoint what washed over you for you to step aside and let him in, but you’d have to face him eventually so opting for it now isn’t that bad of an idea. He looks around the room as if he’s never been inside, trying to find little things that he might’ve missed. To him, nothing changed. Your pictures of your friends are still up on the wall, your desktop is still oddly as neat as ever and the picture you two took on his family vacation is still in its frame next to your bed.

“What are you doing here?” The lump in your throat was keeping you from speaking any louder than a not so soft whisper. When he finally turned back to you, he could see how his much presence had affected you. “I needed to talk to you, I can’t keep going on like this without seeing you y/n.” You didn’t wanna be a fool, hesitant to accept the truth lying behind his words. Instead, you cross your arms and press for more out of him. “So then talk, but if you’re gonna waste my time then you might as well go now.” He sets the bag on your desktop, running his free hand through his hair as he gathers his thoughts.

With a deep, shaky breath, he meets your eyes and in that moment he felt like the world around him was falling apart. “I want to start off by saying how sorry I am for being the biggest asshole in the world. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel like I was stringing you along because I couldn’t get it shit together and figure out my feelings for you.” You try to keep it together, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall down your cheeks as he continues. “I love you y/n, you’re my best friend in this entire world and I can’t- I can’t stand not being next to you anymore.” His voice sounded strained, as if he couldn’t get the words out.

“I was scared to admit that I had the same feelings you had for me and I know that sounds like a fucked up excuse, but I mean it when I say I love you. Jealousy took over the worst part of me and when I saw you with any guy, I felt like you’d fall for them and leave me.” You could tell he was crying, his hands were constantly wiping away his tears and brushing them on his cheeks. Your heart was broken, you never imagined that you’d be having this conversation with Haechan, let alone watching him cry and be so emotional with you. He walked toward you, trying to control his emotions while taking your hands into his.

“I don’t wanna know what it’s like when you’re not here, when you’re gone it’s like I’ve lost a part of me I’ll never get back and I know I don’t deserve any of it, but if you can forgive me, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You were a little taken aback by his sudden confession and the overall moment. You wanted to believe him and take him into your arms as if nothing had happened, but you were still very much hurt and cautious for your fragile heart. When he felt your arms wrap around him, he blinks away the tears. “Promise me that you’ll never do some dumb shit like that again and maybe we’ll talk about this being more.”

Hearing his soft laugh made your heart swell. You couldn’t tell if you had done something right in your past life or if you were just this lucky to have him with you, but you were hoping nothing would change. “I promise as long as you promise to never let me go.” You lift your head, bringing one hand to his cheek. “I promise, you better be lucky I love you.” He smiles, leaning into your touch while closing in on the space between you two. “I am extremely lucky to be loved by you and to only love you.”

©️liliansun., 2022

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Feelings Thawed

Character; Cater Diamond

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.

“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.

Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 

He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.

You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.

He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.

Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”

Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”

You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”

Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.

“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 

The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”

Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 

It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[cheecats]

To soothe you from your Riverstar's Home trauma, how about you ramble about oneripple?

YOU'RE SO KIND FOR LETTING ME GO OFF ABOUT THIS TY TY 💞💞💞 I'm terrible at structuring logical/coherent rambles, so I'll just dump some thoughts I have (obv these exclude Riverstar's Home and are roughly how I'd like to play with their dynamic [give them to me NOW erins!!])

LONG POST UNDER CUT!

Obviously this is way before the mountain cats arrive. BIG FAN of the idea that River Ripple and his small circle at the time were the ones to help One Eye and baby Star Flower get back on their feet after the two lost the rest of their family to the sickness we see again in TBS (I imagine One Eye had already treated them with the Blazing Star, but the two were still so terribly weak and unwell after that.) The group find the two living inside a rotting hollow and approach them. One Eye is, naturally, EXTREMELY aggressive and reclusive at first — distressed from sickness, grief, and fear of losing his tiny daughter, for he hasn't been strong enough to feed them much. The other cats are nervous around him, unwilling to approach the tom for his sheer size and ferocity, even if he is weakened. But not River Ripple. He understands why he is acting this way, that his aggression is a defense mechanism to mask his fear, and ultimately wishes to convey to One Eye that he is not going to do anything to them without his explicit permission first: and he sticks to that promise! Every day he sits outside the makeshift shelter with food, asking permission to come inside, leaving prey, water and herbs at the entrance if One Eye is asleep or simply says no. He never challenges it, and simply obliges and wishes him and Star Flower well. It is through this gradual process that One Eye begins to somewhat relax around River Ripple, allowing ONLY him to come inside, communicating his and Star Flower's needs and whatnot (Vulnerability moment!!)

Although she was too young to remember, once she began to recover, Star Flower was always excited when River Ripple visited, coming up to him, chasing his tail, and telling him all about her big adventures (all just made up ones, but River Ripple would always listen and ask her questions about them!) One Eye initially doesn't take well to Star Flower going up to the near-stranger, pulling her back or growling at River Ripple to back off. But over time, he sees that the risk is minimal, and the two never leave his sight while interacting. Besides, it stops Star Flower pestering him to entertain her for just a bit (also I just find this funny because adult Star Flower can barely recall this and River Ripple is just looking at her like omg you've gotten so tall now!!! I remember when you used to tell me how you beat up monsters and dogs 🤭💙!!)

SO LIKE skipping the recovery period, and now One Eye and Star Flower are more present outside … One Eye falls first. He initially is bothered by this, still grieving the loss of his mate and their other kits moons ago. But the feeling is nonetheless there. It's complicated, because at first he had every intention of claiming the area for himself and pushing River Ripple & his friends out… but as much as he tried to resent River Ripple's philosophy, there was just something so…. soothing yet powerful in the way he carried himself. He realises he actually enjoys his company, which is also weird for him! One Eye has lived among opportunistic cats his entire life, learning that being aggressive and domineering is the only way to make it, and that the passive and meek were destined to be crushed. But River Ripple is a curious example to him. He is gentle and patient, but completely capable of establishing boundaries and shutting down veins of discussion that belittle or threaten him. He would call out One Eye's bullshit every single time, but in a way that didn't escalate the situation. His heart was soft and his identity was strong in that. Kindness without weakness??? In MY Warrior Cats??? Impossible??? (Erins: yes it's impossible. 🗿)

Anyway, montage of One Eye giving terrible rizz and making a complete fool of himself 90% of the time — getting frustrated and defensive while everyone else is like🧍‍♂️. River Ripple is confused at first, but slowly begins to catch on. He finds it both amusing and sweet… and yeah! He realises he does feel the same way! He always found One Eyes protectiveness of Star Flower warming, found his intelligence to be engaging, and he genuinely believes there is good in the tom's heart (me shaking my head slowly.)

First date? Swimming lesson! One Eye is terrible! He's half drowned, scrabbling onto River Ripple every .2 seconds, and hates how pathetic it makes him look. But River Ripple is patient, assuring him that they can always try again some other time, and that it took him a while to get used to it too <:)

^ I feel like it's important to emphasize that One Eye genuinely feels like he can relax around River Ripple. That this cat doesn't have any ulterior motivation to trick him or take from him. Nor' does River Ripple ever belittle his failures or negative traits. They simply exist, are acknowledged, and pass like water.

But of course there is difficulty in how these two's ideologies clash. Everyone's beliefs are different, but theirs almost completely counter. River Ripple's philosophy is peaceful. To live and let live, and be custodians of the land. One Eye's on the other hand is to conquer. To take, to fight for what you need, and to claim the land. While there is room to accommodate each other, they are both two strong individuals with strong identities. Neither is going to abandon their philosophy, and when they clash so strongly, it can make it impossible for them to see eye to eye on issues. Long term, that would be hard. I believe that is why they'd go their separate ways. It doesn't work out. But that is okay. For that period of time, there was coexistence, there was connection, and there was love.

TL:DR. Very brief romance! A spark of passion that burns then fizzles out when One Eye leaves to be on his own (with Star Flower) once again. River Ripple, of course, says One Eye can return any time if he needs anything. Even for a short visit. He never does. For everywhere the tom goes, there is destruction and disruption, and River Ripple's home is like an oasis to be left untouched in One Eye's head.

Even as One Eye's reputation worsens, they still feel for each other. River Ripple especially. He knows what One Eye is capable of, what he has done, and how downright hideous he can be. But it's hard not to miss the memory of him. (Cue the mountain cats like PLEASE stop talking about this asshole in flowery prose he is trying to kill us!!)

BONUS: Not really relevant here, but their presence in the narratives respectively as the punisher/destroyer vs the voice of reason… ooogh, sun that burns, moon that soothes e.t.c but that deity kind of vibe would be more relevant once they're spirits in the Dark Forest & Starclan!

I could go on forever but that's the meat of it. Ty ty i hope everyone enjoyed and its not terribly incoherent ✌️

[tianhai03]

guys wake up new C coloring pic just dropped <333 have some teefs i drew awhile ago that i probably never posted here

[the-river-runs]

My best friend Fandom has once again returned and asked me to post to Tumblr for her! Once again, I have permission to post this video and all edits were done by Fandom (http.redshoes on Instagram)

These memes are all based on Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse

She has a lot to say this time around!

A message from Fandom:

"Hello Naff!! And hello everyone :D

It’s me, your girl, your local meme and edit maker, Fandom (aka http.redshoes on Insta 😎)

I’ve come back to make another meme comp for you guys! I wanted to make this earlier, but:

1. I was busy saving/collecting ATSV content on Instagram like Pokémon to getting noticed twice by Jack in the Box ☺️

2. I had to create an Ao3 account (understandably ofc AI theft sucks) and was um. You know… being silly in the comment section 👀 (please don’t mind me if you ever stumble upon them - I react and appreciate the stuff I enjoy in weird ways 💔)

3. Was waiting for my friend here to finish reading so I didn’t spoil anything in the memes! We both loved the series so much and man. The Naff do be eclipsing fr in releasing chapters left and right biggest round of applause for one of my favorite authors here 👏👏👏

Naff, you did such a great job writing this fanfic. I’m going to repeat myself from the comment section BUT you need to give yourself a pat on the back, relax, take a break - just reward yourself. You deserve it all and I hope that you take care of yourself for all the hard work you’ve done 💞💞💞

I’ve also included the lovely artist themselves, @themeeplord , again in one of my meme comps.

It’s only one meme but dang they always draw Eclipse to be getting that gain 💪💪💪 (bc of how muscular he is haha.) Mad respect to all of the drawings they create - they’re always a banger to see.

(Most of the memes surround the last episode + epilogue so if you haven’t read those chapters LOOK ‼️ AWAY ‼️ Don’t get spoiled 🤯)

(P.S. for the imagine scenario that’s not a meme, this is what they’re saying in the audio:

“[Amused] You can hear their heartbeats? Come on, that’s a little far fetched.”

“[Soft chuckling] I can hear yours too… Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”

I’d like to think this would take place around the beginning of “The Episode Bedeviling Bodies,” where the Hunter is still trying to understand their dear friend and what they’re capable of. I thought it was fitting ngl and included it in the comp.

There were uh, more memes I wanted to include, but I’m running low on storage space atm. I’ll get back to making more after I’m done clearing that out ^^’)

(P.P.S. Okay I don’t have Tumblr obviously but 🕴️ apparently you guys really liked the SJ memes I made??? Because my friend’s been receiving notifs of it still??? Thank you so much you guys!! I didn’t really expect people to enjoy them that much 😭💘💘💘)

Now without further ado, enjoy the meme comp! >:D " -Fandom

[snowangeldotmp3]

i wanted her to look at me;

(or the one where robin can't stop staring at nancy, who can't stop staring at steve and his stupid hair)

(or, a prequel to the rebel robin: surviving the upside down au)

It starts with five words that Robin’s surprised didn’t leave her own mouth. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” Robin’s not sure she can survive the rest of the semester like this. Watching Nancy Wheeler, grinning and giggling and batting her lashes at the douchebag that is Steve Harrington.

[bl-inkstone]

changed my tune so fast just bc of youtube autoplay lmao ok here have some sagau diluc thoughts

the player, diluc thinks, is an incredibly endearing being.

he's come a long way from the curt and wary attitude he used to put on around the traveler (and by extension, you), and today is one of those days where he finds himself privately thanking whatever powers there may be that allowed your paths to cross, with him staring at the reflection of you hidden deep within the traveler's eyes in the wake of his fight with the abyss that fateful night in mondstadt.

as one of the first people to have their constellations manifest in the sky of teyvat, diluc is more than aware that the fact that you still choose to ask for his company in your (or, well, the traveler's) journey is a gift he must treasure deeply. he knows that it is your presence in this world that gives vision bearers a chance to become something greater than they presently are. he also knows that he is no longer as impressive of a companion in battle as he used to be from back when the sky wasn't as bright as it is now (when the world you knew was smaller and he was still a figure that you could look to and proudly call "your main").

but you always come back to him. when he least expects it, you invite him back to your party and diluc can't help but privately think, privately wish, that it's because you're as fond of him as he is of you.

standing in silent prayer while you bestow upon him artifacts that thrum with divine power is an experience he can never tire of. the claymores you give him, the food he eats, all the materials he needs to reach a breakthrough in his capabilities... he understands that you aren't teyvat's creator, but this world and everything in it seems to exist just for you. you, the provider, the sustainer, the beloved of all. sometimes, diluc feels that everything he has and ever worked for have all been for the sake of one day meeting you.

he's not a religious man by principle, and he loathes people of absolute power. the only exception to this, however, is you. he's not foolish enough to believe you're some omnipotent, omniscient being that lords above all. no, you're not like that. he knows this because the longer he journeys with the traveler and feels their bond strengthen, the faint whispers he used to strain himself to hear grow clearer and clearer until finally, one day, he hears you.

you're both nothing and everything he thought you'd be. you view the world of teyvat with so much awe and joy that it's infectious, and he finds himself smiling more often than not to the privilege of finally hearing you. the traveler always looks at him with an understanding smile when diluc slows down in their travels to listen to you. he lives for the moments when you talk to yourself or to someone else (a companion of your own, maybe? from your place beyond the stars?) because this is how he learns. your favorite food, your favorite nations, your favorite "characters" and more. he holds every morsel of information you unknowingly give close to his chest where all his affections and wishes hide. he likes to think that this way, he can be closer and better for you.

but he knows he's not the only one who hears you, and it is the traveler that is closest to you out of all them. even so, diluc harbors no ill will to the avatar you chose to see and travel the world through. you're so fond of the traveler, and how could he ever come to loathe anything graced by your love?

he knows how to play nice. it helps that most of your other chosen are people he can find himself enjoying the company of as well. diluc understands that as much as he wants to be the sole holder of your attention, the world does not function that way. he's willing to extend an olive branch so long as they can all work together to keep you present in teyvat. he can worry about his more aggressive competition later when they aren't at risk of being caught in such an unsightly state by you — all that matters to him, right now, is how to keep your gaze on him for just a little longer and keep you from leaving him again.

it's a daunting thing to be so close to your grace. you take diluc to lands he'd never thought he'd visit again, to ruins of civilizations long past, domains with unimaginable horrors and have him run, claymore and vision burning at his hip, into fight after fight at your command. it's tiring at best and painful at worst, but you always take care to heal him and his companions before leaving, and you always lead them somewhere safe to rest until teyvat brightens and you come again.

his current companions (his "supports", he inwardly preens) rest and talk amongst themselves once they feel your presence leave. it used to be something they, your chosen, would panic over, but now that they've gotten more used to you and all the signs that pointed that yes, this is your will, they've grown to be able to tolerate the harrowing chill that comes when your warmth leaves them. diluc leans back on his chair in front of good hunter to observe them. they're all people he's come to grow fond of in time: diona was prickly, yes, but ha become pleasant to be around once they grew past their misunderstandings. the young master of the feiyun commerce guild, xingqiu, was also a reliable companion both in and outside of battle, and for all his faults, venti has proven himself to be a devout believer, unwilling to be a burden to you or the party you've guided him towards.

under normal circumstances, he never would've met and forged such strong bonds with these people. if not for your own interference, he never would've bothered getting to know any of them at all. though he may have his own gripes and complaints at times of how their dynamic works when you're not around, diluc is still fond of them. he's grateful for the opportunity to grow close to people again, and traveling the world alongside them and the traveler has become one of the few things he's begun to look forward to outside of his duties as "diluc, master of dawn winery." when the day is done and he can sit and relax with them in the tables in front of good hunter, he can rest in the company of others who understand the near-maddening pull in his chest that draws him to try and get closer, closer, to you.

it's days like these where diluc quietly thanks whatever it is brought you to them, and prays that one day, he will no longer have to search through the traveler's eyes to see you.

[kaladinkholins]

[fic] A New Ember

✨ Chapter 3 ✨

SUMMARY: Mizu continues to run from Taigen, but stops for a moment to ponder.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Mizu/Taigen, Mizu & Ringo & Taigen

Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo

Additional Tags:

Written Before Blue Eye Samurai Season 2, Canon Divergence, Set in My Delusional Version of Post-Canon, She/Her Pronouns for Mizu, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Found Family, Mizu is Bad at Feelings, Taigen is Whipped, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary:

After Mizu successfully gets her revenge, she retires to a reclusive life in the Japanese countryside, cutting off ties with all her old friends, hoping to find inner peace in a life of solitude. But Taigen is not done with her yet. OR After a lifetime of running, Mizu and Taigen finally learn to slow down, turn around, and look back. When they do, they find each other.

BONUS - some memes for this chapter:

[finnpeach]

Hunt

(T/HRONE OF GLAS$ SPOILERS AHEAD! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST Q/UEEN OF SHADOW$ BE WARNED!)

My love for R/owan is boundless, and the series would be infinitely better if he was sick.

This is a multi-part fic of A/elin and R/owan training on a mountain and YEAH! HE HAS A COLD!

not much sneezing yet but it will come I promise

likes comments reblogs always loved and giggled over <3

****

Aelin stalks through the underbrush with lethal silence. Leaves covered with dew from the early morning mist streak across her face, dotting her cheeks. Her prey, a mountain hare the size of her head, nibbles on the sparse grass a few yards away.

She knocks her arrow, slipping in a breath. She can’t wait to see the look on Rowan’s face when she brings back a hare this size. Slowly, she pulls the bowstring back, kissing against her face. The hare turns, startled, breaths coming fast. Now or never–

“hh’rZzSHHh’uh!” 

Aelin gasps at the sound that echoes around the mountain. It cracks like a whip, scaring even the crows nesting in trees. The hare takes off and she desperately releases the arrow after her prey. The point finds its home in the thick trunk of a tree rather than the soft neck of the hare.

There goes breakfast. Her stomach growls pitifully. Seething, she rises from the brush and goes to retrieve her arrow. 

Five minutes later, Aelin stalks back to the makeshift camp she and Rowan had assembled the night before. The Fae prince had forced her to run from the castle to these distant mountains, shifting in and out of her Fae form to master control, where he then informed her they would be camping for a week out in the elements. And she was to hunt their every meal in between training.

It was a pathetic time, especially with the rain that has settled across the mountain. Damp and cold to her bones, Aelin approaches their campsite. Rowan, appearing much drier than she, sits by the fire she had sparked earlier that morning. He looks oddly run down, like he hadn’t slept much the night before.

Aelin is sure he hadn’t. The mountains were too misty to sleep outside without waking up damp, so they had packed just one tent to keep their baggage light. Lying beside Rowan, last night she had been the private audience to his tossing and turning, grumbling, and finally his snoring. 

“You fucking bastard. You scared off breakfast,” she hisses as she approaches, throwing her bow and bundle of arrows down by the tent. Rowan does not look up from the dagger he cleans in his hands.

“And how – snf! – pray tell, did I scare breakfast from here?” He grumbles. Aelin catches the way he sniffles thickly, his nostrils twitching up with the force of it.

She drops her satchel, full of only a bundle of pathetic berries.  “You sneezed.” She tries not to give in the warmth that pools in her lower stomach at the memory of the sound. It’s the first time she had ever heard him sneeze, and she was not disappointed. “For someone so keen on silence, I expected you’d know how to sneeze more quietly.”

Rowan doesn’t even grace her taunting with a reply, or a snarl. He just continues rubbing a cloth down the length of his dagger. Strange. He must be feeling really tired if he didn’t bother to punish her for such a remark. 

She sits down across from the fire, on a log they’d rolled over so they didn’t sit on wet grass. Feigning interest in destemming the berries she’d picked, she studies him through the crackling flames. 

His white hair is loose around his shoulders, creating a curtain that shields the dark tattoo running along his tan face. The tips of his Fae ears poke out just behind the white strands. After weeks of training with him, sleeping out in the elements beside him, she’s learned that he prefers to tie his hair up. It’s so rare to see him with it down.

“More hand to hand combat training today, or magic training?” She asks, breaking the silence that is only marred by the crackling flames.

Rowan sets the dagger aside. “Your job was to hunt. And since you still haven’t caught anything, your job is still to hunt.” He settles his sharp green eyes on her, brows set. If he didn’t piss her off so much, she might actually tremble under his gaze.

She raises her palms in defeat. “Fine, fine. But if you sneeze and scare off my prey again, I won’t be sharing the catch with you.” Even if she’d very much like for him to sneeze again, she’d rather eat first.

In one swoop, she picks up her bow and arrows and satchel again before setting off. With her Fae senses, she could scent a herd of deer in the southwest. Now that would show Rowan. Perhaps she’d bring back a buck, and spear him with its antlers.

As soon as she leaves the camp, nearly out of earshot, she hears the same thunderstrike from before. Perhaps Rowan had been waiting for her to leave.

“hhzjHSHHhieWw!”

A shiver runs down her spine as more startled crows caw in the trees.

****

Two hours later, Aelin returns with a small doe slung across her shoulders.

It’s mid afternoon. She had been lucky a herd was still grazing so late in the morning down by the clearing. She’d been even luckier that Rowan had either gotten his sneezing under control, or learned how to be quiet, because nothing had startled her catch this time.

“Lunch,” she declares to Rowan, dropping the deer to the grass. He hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. “Is served.”

“It was supposed to be– snf! Breakfast,” he mutters, reaching the dagger at his side from earlier. His voice sounds dulled, like he’s congested.

Aelin rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you helped. And I got us a catch to last us days.” She pats the stomach of the doe proudly. It isn’t very old – there’s still a sprinkling of fawn spots across her back. Aelin feels a twang of guilt for not singling out an older one.

Rowan pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing through his mouth. Aelin hardly has time to prepare before he jerks down towards his crotch, a light mist spraying across his trousers.

“hiHh–... yHhZzSHhhyuu!” A familiar, rushing heat spreads through Aelin’s gut. She swallows, watching as he rubs his nose on his wrist and glares up at her. Is he going to get mad at her for his sneezing?

Rowan chooses not to comment on it, something Aelin is secretly grateful for. “You were– snf! instructed to catch something small. We’re moving camp this afternoon.” He angles the pommel of the dagger towards her.

“What?!”

“Rain is coming tonight and will flood this area. I told you this morning. And now you’ve wasted a young doe’s life.”

A flame of rage flickers to life inside her chest. This is all his fault. “Well, I wouldn’t have wasted jack-shit if you hadn’t ruined my catch earl–”

“Aelin,” he growls, a no-nonsense sound. The tips of his canines poke past his lips. Aelin shuts up immediately. 

He stands, crossing the camp in two strides, and shoves the pommel of the knife against her stomach. She glares beneath his gaze. “You missed the catch because you did not act fast enough. Now you can either carry the doe across the mountain, or… hhH—!” His breath snags, eyes looking off into the distance for a split second. Aelin’s heart hammers in her chest.

He quickly recovers and sniffs again, much to her disappointment, and focuses his gaze on her. “Or you can leave it and realise you wasted a young animal’s life for your pride.” 

Before she can retort, he turns on his heel and she offers a middle finger to his large, muscular back. 

As if sensing her, he says over his shoulder, “And– sNf!– pack up the tent.”

[guidingthulite]

"Akiyama, what is this?"

"Why, I might be a beginner, but to say to my face that you can't even tell what I've drawn...!"

"I do know what this is, what I meant to ask is WHY."

"Ena lent me her tablet, so I wanted to make the most of it by drawing something truly great!"

"Why is Tsukasa wearing a dress?"

"I really wanted to draw one, so I asked him if I could draw him in a wedding dress, and he said yes!"

"Naturally, Akito! A star should look good in anything they wear, and this is no exception! I am quite pleased with the result!"

"Of course you'd say that..."

(CHAPTER 7 OF THIS IS LIKE MY SISTER'S SHOUJO MANGAS BUT WORSE OUT NOW! READ HERE!)

a better look at mizuki's drawing under the cut!

[honeylikewords]

penumbra. (jack russell)

jack and his wife are separated during the full moon. (set in the events of the pregnancy arc!)

(warnings: descriptions of food and eating, non-descript vomiting, scenes of fear and anxiety; first ever attempt at writing slightly angsty, potentially hurt/comfort fic(?), everything works out so don’t worry! word count: 6k.)

“Beaver moon,” Jack says, hands in his pockets. He’s staring at a patch of clouds that are skating rapidly across the icy blue sky, nose high in the air. Smelling the wind for what’s to come.

His eyes flick to the side to catch a glimpse of her as she comes to stand next to him, arms crossed over her waist to brace against the chill, and he extends a hand to invite her to stand closer. She does, and she is instantly met with the radiating warmth of Jack’s feverish body temperature as he pulls her into his side; he rubs a hand along her upper arm in soothing arcs, and the heat of his touch comforts her.

“Beaver moon?”

When he’s distant, lost to her, she’s found that pressing him with innocuous questions can help draw him out. An easy opportunity to explain something can warm him back up to talking, and one hapless conversation may branch into a more expository one, and she hopes that getting him to talk about this will help him talk about that. It’s on the horizon, and, presumably, the driving force behind his shift in mood.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “November’s moon. That’s what they called it in, eh, the Farmer’s Almanac.”

He chuckles a little and shakes his head, gaze returning to the skies, and she watches his face as his eyes wander farther and farther away. His thumb creates slow circles on her elbow as he holds her close, and when he does speak again, he mumbles.

“They re-named all the moons of the year. Borrowed--” --he says the word with some sourness-- “--From the people already here. Made up new names for old things. I remember when they started. But there are names, real ones, that people do use.”

Jack turns to look back at her, and she can see something dark hiding in his bright eyes. She knows the expression that has come to linger all too well, from the severity of the lines between his eyebrows to the way he pulls his lips taut, chewing the inside of his cheek. The crease over the bridge of his nose gets more pronounced, and the darkness under his eyes brings a haggard weight to his gaze. A hardness of muscle, a thinness of blood, a lack of color. He’s afraid of something. She feels the knot of fear growing in her belly, too.

She should be used to it, by now. Sometimes, she feels like she is. But every month, like clockwork, when the atmosphere will become tense, Jack’s anxieties become her own, no matter how much she tries to assuage them.

“This month’s a total lunar eclipse,” he adds.

“A blood moon.”

Jack never tells her exactly where it is he goes, and he insists that she doesn’t tell him where she’s planning to go, either.

“Just make it deep into the city,” he reminds her. “The deeper you go, the harder it will be for me to get there.”

“Jack, you wouldn’t--”

He puts a hand up, firmly halting the conversation, and finishes putting the last of his clothes in the duffel bag. As he zips it up, he glances at her and sees the hurt in her face, a downcast expression coming over his own. They’ve had this conversation before, but repetition it doesn’t make it any easier.

“I’m sorry, bebé. I know. But… we can’t risk it.”

Jack rounds the edge of the bed to come to her side, cupping her face in his hands. Regret and longing shadow him as he pets her cheeks, and she doesn’t like the way he’s studying her face; she’s afraid he’s looking at her for what he believes to be the last time. They’ve done this before, dozens of times, so why does this one feel so different? Shaking off the thoughts, she steels herself and holds his hand to her face, meeting his eyes.

“We have our systems,” she reminds him. “You’ll be alright. You’ll come back, all in one big, hairy piece.”

He wrinkles his nose at that. She can’t tell if he’s trying not to laugh or if he’s just uncomfortable, but whatever the reality, it doesn’t seem that her attempt at a joke broke much of the tension in him at all. Damn.

Instead of replying, Jack pauses, then bends forward and kisses her on the crest of her hairline. As his lips warm her, he draws in a deep breath through his nose, his eyes faltering shut as he takes in her scent. He inhales so deeply that she feels a few of her hairs lift off her head; it tickles, and she can’t help the small bubble of noise that escapes her. After a long moment of him standing completely still, nose pressed to her scalp, she feels Jack shift, turning to rapidly kiss every inch of her face.

“I,” he mumbles, kissing her temple, “love,” a kiss to her nose, “you,” a kiss to her cupid’s bow, “so,” now one on the corner of her jaw, “much.”

He plants another dozen across her cheeks and chin and ears and hair, until she’s certain he’s gotten each individual centimeter of surface area her face has, and then pulls back, hands remaining cupped around her face and keeping her in his view as long as possible.

“I will come back to you.” His voice is low, tired. But the promise is powerful. “And we will be alright.”

“I know,” she replies. “I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s only one night,” shrugs Jack, trying to seem blasé. “You might like the break from me. Get a little ‘you’ time in. Watch something you know I’d hate. Eat something with mushrooms.”

“Sounds fun.” It comes out more mournful than she meant for it to.

Out in the yard, branches snap: the cue. Jack frowns, the lines of his face deeper than ever and she thinks, in that moment, that all the hundreds of years have abruptly caught up to him. Wordless, he sighs, presses his nose to her cheek, and gives her one last, long kiss, savoring the plushness of her lips and the scent of her skin, before pulling away.

He grabs his bag off the bed and then takes her hand, the two of them walking in tandem through the house until they reach the back door, where Jack opens it and sees Ted squatting in the bushes. The massive creature waves sweetly at the two of them, and she waves back.

“Take care of my husband,” she smiles. Ted nods his tentacled head.

Jack hesitates in the doorway. The hand that grasps hers guides their encircled fingers to her belly, and he lets go of her with a trail of his fingers across it. His eyes hold there before he scratches at one ear, surprisingly aggressive, and breaks himself from his reverie.

“I end up having to take care of him, you know,” grumbles Jack, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

Ted makes an elephantine grunt and Jack rolls his eyes.

“Ay, I’m coming, man.”

Finally, Jack takes the step to go. He walks across the yard, towards the treeline that leads into the forest, where Ted holds open a gap in the bushes. As he crosses the barrier into the woods, Jack looks back at his wife, and the two of them do their best to be the one to look away first.

It’s only one night.

She breaks first, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, and when she manages to clear her throat and look back up, both men are long gone.

Paying in cash at the hotel is always extremely embarrassing.

Jack insists, every month, that cards can’t be used-- “They leave a paper trail, querida,” he admonishes-- so he gives her a massive pile of bills to use at her discretion for the night. It always garners looks.

The concierge had raised both eyebrows and quirked his lips to the side before remembering his job and her presence, penitently smiling at her as he counted out the hundreds for the room, and she’d stood at the counter in a haze of discomfort while he made the key card.

She wonders idly if this one would spread rumors of a “lady of the night” or a “woman on the run” in the break room to his coworkers, then continues unpacking her toiletries on the bathroom counter, dismissive. It doesn’t really matter what he says so long as he and all the other people in this city make enough noise and light and stench to keep the wolf at bay.

That was the hope Jack had each month, sending her into the city: the hope that the chaos of human civilization would scare the wolf away from wherever she might be. That their secrecy would keep any memories, even subconscious, out of the wolf’s mind. That he wouldn’t know where to find her, even if he did hunt for her. That was the system.

So far, it has worked.

She does her best to whittle down the hours as sunset begins. Television, phone scrolling, reading, folding and unfolding her clothes for the night and following morning. None of it sufficiently puts to rest the images in her mind; Jack, locked in a cage somewhere, waiting for the agony to begin. Jack, alone. Jack, transformed.

Getting up from the edge of the bed, she moves to sit in the stiff, polyester-upholstered armchair by the window and stares out at the skyline. The city seems to be burning to the ground as the sun sinks between the skyscrapers and streets, dipping lower and lower into the horizon, before being extinguished as moonrise begins. Blue-black night stretches over the land, and thousands of streetlights and windows and signs flare to life, filling the darkness, pushing it back.

The room is too quiet, even with the television running for background noise. She fidgets with a loose thread on the arm of the chair as her stomach churns. She can’t stop thinking about Jack, and how his attitude had been so foreign; he was always withdrawn and anxious before the full moon, but he’d seemed more frightened than usual this time. Her gut contorts when she thinks to herself that he may have been giving her a goodbye, somehow, as if this was the end of something, and all of a sudden--

She bolts up from the chair so violently it rocks over, and rushes to the bathroom, collapsing on her knees in front of the toilet.

“For the love of God,” she moans, voice echoing in the now-full bowl. “Really?”

Nobody answers, but she stands on shaking legs and wipes her mouth with a tissue, flushing the whole affair down the toilet as she brushes her teeth and tongue forcefully. When she’s done, she kicks at the wastebasket in the bathroom and glares at her stomach as it makes a loud, wet growl.

“Seriously? Now you’re hungry?”

The sudden pang, both of pain and hunger, shoots through her and she narrows her eyes further, sighing in frustration and moving to get her coat.

Jack normally instructs her that once the moon is up, she cannot leave wherever it is that she’s hiding. Staying behind doors and walls and out of the open air creates interference, he says, and that interference is key to keeping the beast confused. “If he can’t smell you, he can’t find you.”

Well, wherever he is, she reasons to herself, he’s not going to smell her deep in the heart of the city, much less in the few minutes it will take her to get from her room to the nearby pizza place. The jacket is shrugged on and she opens the suite door, a cold thrill running through her as she breaks one of the rules of the full moon. So much for the system.

She breaks it further still as she leaves the hotel lobby and ambles into the restaurant a block westward, gazing at the menu blearily before ordering two slices: one of her standard order, the second a surprising combination of mushrooms, peppers and pineapple that makes the man behind the counter scoff as he jots it down on the pad. Another fistful of loose bills is tendered, this time to no surprise.

She takes a bite her familiar pizza, first, sitting at a sticky plastic table in the far corner of the restaurant, closer to where the cooking is happening. She figures that if she’s going to break the rules, she might as well balance it out by doing them safely by masking herself in the hot, smelly din of the kitchen. The pizza is a warm meal on an empty stomach, so it tastes better than usual, and she scarfs the first piece down quickly before turning her attention to this new order.

The mushrooms had originally been a little joke-- as one of Jack’s least favorite foods, they seldom turned up in any meals they shared, so she would order them when he was away-- but the other toppings had been ordered on impulse, all of them individually hungered for. Pineapple for its tart sweetness, peppers for their verdant crunch, mushrooms for their earthy meatiness; she piles a massive amount of the tinned parmesan cheese atop her slice and dives in ravenously.

It is a little strange at first, she admits, but scratches an itch she doesn’t quite understand, and she soon finds herself chewing through the crust, the piece decimated and digested. She marvels at herself for housing it that fast and wonders if she might have forgotten to eat earlier today, lost in all the stress of Jack’s departure. Not quite satiated by both pieces, she returns to the counter, orders another slice of the mixed-topping pizza, and takes it to go.

She walks out the front door with the piece in hand, clutched in a slightly oily napkin, and begins to walk through the cold streets of the city, watching through windows as businesses shutter for the night and families turn out the lights in bedrooms and dens. The world is getting ready to sleep, and she feels restless.

Midway across the street that would take her onto the block her hotel sits on, she decides that she can’t go back to the room right now. The stillness is too intimidating, too constricting. She knows that if she locks herself in that suite, she’ll sit, motionless, on the edge of the bed, cycling through the same thoughts that had led her here, making herself sicker and sicker. The mere idea of being in that sterile, dimly home-like room sends a clench through her abdomen, so she chooses to keep breaking the rules.

She takes a left and crosses another street, meandering into the city park that spans multiple blocks. She’d seen it coming in towards the hotel, and knows where the hotel sits in position to it, so she won’t get lost, she figures, passing through the low gates of the park and following the paved paths past a bed of trees and unpetaled rose bushes.

The grass underfoot crunches dryly, almost entirely dead, as she works on her piece of pizza and wanders aimlessly through the park. Now that she’s had about two and a third of these large slices, she’s beginning to feel full, and the remaining two-thirds slice in her hand is becoming less and less appetizing as it gets colder and she thinks more on her worries. She doesn’t want to vomit again, so she decides to give herself a break from it and moves to sit on an empty bench overlooking a glass-smooth pond.

It’s a calming sight: the park is entirely empty, the water features all turned off, and all that she can hear is the wind through the trees and the distant sound of traffic, muffled by the foliage. The night sky is dim, starless thanks to the city’s light pollution, but the moon, enormous and luminous, cuts through the darkness, viciously bright. It glows orange-red, the penumbra of the earth edging in; the blood moon.

She thinks of him as she stares at the moon, mindlessly picking at the food in her hands. The wind gusts a cluster of leaves down from the tree tops and they rain down onto the surface of the pond, sending ripples flowing across the water, reflecting red moonlight in arcs and waves. Somewhere, a dead limb cracks off a tree and falls to the earth with a heavy thud, and she jumps a little, nails digging into the mushroom she’d peeled off the pizza and was ripping apart on the napkin.

It occurs to her, now, that she is a woman alone in a major city, in a park, at night. She checks her surroundings carefully, noting no sign of other people, and tries to remember which way the hotel is; after a moment’s consideration, she decides that it’s to her right and that she’ll follow the path out to the nearest street, which she should be able to cross and get back to the hotel via.

As she begins to stand, another crack issues through the silence of the park, this one less heavy but nearer than the first. It sounded more like something crunching through shrubbery, something with enough mass to disturb leaves and snap branches. Human? Animal? She isn’t sure; do coyotes come this far into the city? She’d heard that they sometimes wandered the suburbs, attacking dogs; now isn’t the time to remember things about coyotes, she thinks. Now is the time to move. Her heart is pounding, dread setting in around her, and she moves as quietly as she can towards the path that leads right, staring at the space she thinks the sound came from. Unfortunately, it works: she sees what she’s looking for.

In the light of the red moon, she sees it.

Something massive, much bigger than any coyote could ever hope to be, rises from a span of bushes a few yards away from the bench, hunkered low but coming up taller and taller and taller. Every inch it rises is another dagger in her heart, her ears slamming with the sound of her blood, and if she had half a wit left in her, she’d scream: scream until whatever it was went deaf, scream until all the city knew where she was, scream until her throat bled. But all she can do is stumble backward, unable to take her eyes off the indistinct thing in the darkness, her body begging her to move back, into the light, into the safety of numbers, into anywhere but here, as everything else shuts down.

She keeps taking rapid, wobbling steps back, faster and faster, eyes transfixed, as the shape pushes out from the bushes and begins moving across the grass, shadowed and faster than anything she’s ever seen before. It races at her as she tries to turn around and run, and she begins scrambling up the path when whatever it is lets out an inhuman screech that crescendoes into an unearthly howl, so loud it rings her ears and makes her start dry-sobbing, trying, still, to run.

Before she can get anywhere close to the edge of the path, the creature is behind her, arms around her chest, yanking her backward into the night, and she finally manages to let out a belting scream before--

She is laying on her back, in the grass, at the side of the pond, and the thing is over her, staring down. Her body is pinned under the creature, with its knees on either side of her abdomen, one of its hands under the backside of her head and the other supporting the small of her back. The arms holding her still must be enormously strong, as she feels that her weight is not resting against the earth, but rather solely in the grasp of the beast.

It tilts its head from side to side as it inspects her closely, and she takes advantage of the moment to do the same. In the full, bright light of the moon, it’s much easier to see what exactly this thing is; it’s certainly humanoid, to be sure. Wide shoulders covered in a dense pelt of fur block out the sky behind it, and its bare chest is similarly hairy, tapering into a manlike waist. It’s all bare, actually, excepting a shredded pair of sweatpants that fit tightly against the creature’s lean legs and that are torn below the knee, making room for its massive calves. The hair seems to be densest around the thing’s face and neck, where it splays out in a dark mane, backlit by the moon to create a halo of red-brown tendrils that shift with every breeze. Its nose is long, flared into a wide, brown snout that clefts into two distinct curves of cartilage; every breath drawn through it rankles its top lip, curling it into a snarl. Twin sets of razor-sharp incisors glint wetly in the light, framed by lips that hang open as it breathes, hard, through its mouth.

Most noticeable, however, are its eyes.

They glow from underneath massive eyebrows, peering at her through the darkness, twin sparks of the aurora borealis. Green. They’re green.

Her own eyes swim with tears and her throat closes up, unable to make any sound but little sore gulps, and the creature bends down to rub its canine nose against her jaw, whimpering in the back of its throat sympathetically.

No, she corrects, not its: his. She would know him anywhere.

Jack pushes his face along the underside of her chin, whining into her neck, and uses the hand cradling her head to push her into the crook of his, rubbing her in. At first, the action confuses her, and she rankles her nose at the strong scent of his sweat against his damp, musky fur, but it dawns on her that the smell is, in fact, the purpose of the gesture: he needs her to smell him as he is smelling her. The wolf wants her to know that she is with her mate, and believes the scent is key to convincing her. She settles for winding her fingers into the matted span hair that covers his back and shoulders and crying, equal parts relieved and frightened, into his pelt.

She shakes and sobs as the wolf presses her to his chest, and Jack lets out pained, short barks, baying and howling pityingly. He pushes her as close to his skin as he can get her, and his skin is so hot it burns her cheeks, already sore from crying; if she didn’t know better, she’d think he was on death’s door with a fatal fever. As her breathing starts to lull and the sobs mellow into hiccups, Jack shifts her weight closer to him, rising to his feet with her in his arms.

The shock sends her scrambling in his hold, gripping onto his shoulders and yelping in fright. Jack lets out a huff and bumps his nose against her temple, a silent attempt to calm her, and he begins moving back towards the trees, seeming intent on going deeper into the park. Tentatively, she puts a hand on his chest and pushes, and he stops, head jerking back in confusion. She watches his huge eyebrows knit together and he bares his teeth; it’s not a threat, but a question, his familiar eyes searching her face for an explanation.

“Jack, we have to get you out of here,” she rasps. “You’re not safe in the city.”

If he understands, he doesn’t show it; Jack decides to keep walking toward the trees, and she has to push again to get him to stop. This time, he lets out a growl, his hold on her tightening, but he does relent and holds still, waiting in the shadow of a tree.

“Where’s Ted? Why aren’t you in your…”

Her voice trails off as she realizes she doesn’t know what to ask, and that even if she did, Jack probably isn’t capable of responding. He cocks his head at her and frowns, again pushing his nose into the side of her face and nuzzling against her skin, and she melts under his touch. For as long as she’s known him, Jack has been firm with her that this part of himself is too hideous, too deadly for her to see, but, now, all she can see is her husband, vulnerable despite the power of his transformation.

She takes a moment to do some mental math, weighing her options. She can’t let Jack out of her sight for the rest of the night, that much she knows, but how she’ll get him to safety is the truly unknown element. Getting back to their house wouldn’t be entirely feasible, as she’d taken a taxi to get here, and getting him back to wherever he chose to hide during his transformations was out, since she both did not know where it was and knew that wherever it was, it was not in any condition to hold him: he’d gotten out, after all.

That left two options: try to sneak Jack out through the city on foot, or…

“Jack? Baby?”

His ears perk and he pulls his face out of her neck, head cocked like a dog listening for instructions. Jack’s pink tongue slips out and wets his lips and teeth and he flashes her something that she tries to interpret as a smile, but that reads more closely to a grimace. It endears her all the same.

“You need to come with me, okay?”

Jack stirs with a groan, his eyes blurry and unfocused. Everything is scaldingly bright, burning his retinas, and he covers his face with a large hand, rubbing at his sore lids and wiping away the crust of a heavy, pained sleep.

“Morning, Puppy,” he hears.

Oh, still dreaming. That’s frustrating. Jack hates it when he dreams that she’s near, only to wake up alone. It’s like barreling headlong into a glass door. He rolls over on his side and throws an arm over his head, snarling through his teeth at the world.

Of course he’d have a dream like this after a night like that. Dream that she’s rubbing his back, dream that she’s pressing her lips to his hands, dream that her scent is wrapped all around him, filling the room.

He tries to burrow his face into the pillow and block out the light, only to find that his pillow is hot. Solid. Not at all fabric, but certainly plush. He growls in frustration, wondering if he fell asleep on top of a deer carcass again: that'd be hell to wash out of his hair. But the pillow smells like her… painfully so. He pushes his face in deep and moans in misery.

"Are you still hurting?"

"Yes," he says, voice rough and cracking. "Everything hurts. Miss you."

"...You miss me?"

Jack opens one eye and stares up at the fuzzy, dark shape hovering at the periphery of his vision. From a certain angle, and with just the right amount of blinked clarity, it does sort of look like her. He figures getting it all out of his system in a dream is as good an option as any, and he rubs his rough-stubbled cheek into his warm, rising and falling pillow, sighing.

"I hate being away from you, amorcita," he rumbles. "Makes me feel like complete shit. I already feel like shit, then I come out of it, and you're not there, and I become, uh, doubleshit."

"Doubleshit?"

"Mm."

"You're not doubleshit," she purrs. A hand strokes the exposed curve of his face and he tilts his chin to meet it; this is certainly one of his more indulgent dreams. Lusciously detailed. It'll be hell to wake up from. "You're alright, now."

Jack wrinkles his brow and scrunches both eyes tightly before reopening them, rolling on his pillow to face upward. His gaze clears and focuses: her face is now visible, looking down on him from above. He squints at her.

“...What are you doing?”

At his question she knits her brow and smiles, shaking her head in amused confusion.

She looks so beautiful that it takes Jack out of his mind and into a purely animal place: all he wants to do is stare at her, at the angles of her face, the slope of her nose, the curvature of her lips. He wants to ingrain this thought in the forefront of his mind and forget everything else; the pain in his body, the ravages of the night before, the wild haze of unclear memories. All that matters is this.

One of her delicate hands reaches down and scritches at his chin, right in his favorite spot, the one that always sends his leg twitching, and he’s too worn to hold back the relieved moan that issues out of him, his whole body oozing into languid comfort. His eyes flutter shut, and he revels in the sensation of her. Oh, she really knows how to get him.

When her nails catch on a rough patch of stubble that tugs a little, it occurs to Jack that he is not, in fact, dreaming. That accidental scrape of nails feels too organic to have been generated by his fuzzy mind; his eyes flash open, staring up at her.

She pulls back briefly, and Jack leans up, cocking his head. This is not a dream. She is there, sitting above him. His mind goes blank.

Jack pushes himself onto his elbows and looks around at his surroundings, bewildered, heart racing. This is not his safe room. These are not concrete walls. They’re wallpapered, with tacky, directionless paintings glued on. He’s laying on a completely destroyed mattress, body between her legs, instead of on the cold floor of his cell. He’d gotten out, somehow, and--

“Jack, baby, it’s okay,” she says, reaching around to wrap her arms about his chest and tug his back flush to her body. He trembles a little in her grasp, feeling her pressing reassuring kisses all along his face and shoulders, but the sound of her voice and the touch of her hands brings him back down to earth, bit by bit. “It’s just me. You’re alright. We made it through the night.”

“We…?”

“You… found me, remember?”

A low series of curses in a mixture of languages seep from his lips as he turns on the bed, taking her face in his hands. He paws at her, tugging clothes aside and pushing her limbs this way and that as he anxiously studies every inch of her, checking her face and body for wounds, bandages, scars: any sign that the wolf had harmed her. He’d gotten loose? And, worse yet, he’d managed to get to wherever she was?

“Did I--”

“You didn’t hurt me, Jack,” she reprimands. His eyes rise up to hers; her gaze is firm, unyielding in its promise. “You were looking for me.”

“I… I don’t know how I got out,” he admits, stroking one of her cheeks. “I’ve never done that, before.”

“Well, it’s certainly a first, but… as far as I can tell, all you did was come to find me. I think you wanted to take me home, actually.”

He looks at the room. This is definitely not home.

“But I, uh, didn’t let that happen.”

Jack frowns. This just keeps getting more and more mystifying.

“You fought the wolf?,” he asks. When she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, he frowns even more deeply and presses further. “Then… what?”

“I just… asked you to follow me. I took you back to the hotel.”

“We’re at a hotel?!”

Reeling, Jack holds onto her shoulder for support and stares out at the room. Of course. Her hotel room. He recognizes all the telltale signs-- the chipped wooden furniture, the clunky black plastic amenities, the pale orange lighting-- but sees all of it in disarray. Claw marks line the overturned armchair by the window. Stuffing leaks out of the loveseat. All the sheets are shredded, the mattress beneath them carved with long, hard gouges. He thinks he sees bite marks on the legs of the writing desk.

The idea that the wolf was in a hotel room at all flummoxes Jack; that he could pass dozens, maybe even hundreds of opportunities to hunt, all sitting quietly in their little, individually-wrapped rooms seems impossible. Surely, he must have left a wake of destruction behind himself... right?

Jack peers down the entryway and notes that the front door of the suite is shut, with the desk chair shoved under the handle at such an angle that the door is, essentially, barricaded. He wonders if she put that there to keep others out, or to keep him in; either way, it seems to have worked. He can’t smell blood, nor decay, though there’s a minor tinge of stomach acid. She must have gotten sick rather recently, at least within the last hour, and Jack lets out a frustrated whimper at the idea of her being ill and his being unable to help her.

He collapses into her, pulling them both down onto the mattress, and exhaustedly moves his head to lay on her body. He isn’t even particularly conscious of his movements, just letting his instincts take over and guide him, and he ends up curled around her, his head firmly pressed into her belly, hands gripping her sides as she pets his hair to comfort him. Everything washes over him in a depleting wave, and he surrenders to her wholly, burrowing his face into her and kissing mindlessly into her tummy.

“This is actually how you slept for most of the night,” she remarks, playing with the patch of hair over his right ear. “Just like this.”

Her belly must have been the pillow he mistook for a deer carcass. If he wasn’t so drained, he might have been a little embarrassed by the error. It doesn’t matter, now. All that matters is getting her home, safe and sound, and making sure that none of this follows them back. Pay all this off. Get out without being seen. Find Ted. Repair and re-structure the safe room. The list keeps growing.

But he’ll straighten all of that out later. In the moment, Jack just wants to lay still and revel in her: it’s the first time he’s woken up from a transformation with her right there, by his side, and it fulfills some emptiness he had only dreamed of easing. She’s here. She’s holding him. He’s safe in her arms. What more could a man ask for?

His hand straggles up and he lays it next to his face on her tummy, tracing intricate patterns into the skin under her shirt. The texture of her skin is so familiar and grounding that he nearly is lulled back to sleep, his eyes drifting shut, palm splayed across her belly, but he manages to fight through and stir himself awake, blinking heavily up at her.

“You’re incredible,” he manages. “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re, you know, just… I love you.”

He’s not quite aware of his words, more cognizant of the feelings behind them than of their actual structure, and relents: maybe he can’t express himself like that right now. Still too frazzled. Instead, he settles for leaning in, and presses a kiss deep and hard into the softness of her belly. She pets the hair at the nape of his neck, mumbling her response distantly.

“I didn’t really do much of anything, I don’t think,” she says. “I just asked. You listened.”

The idea of the wolf listening to anyone should surprise Jack. But instead, he blinks, pensive, and nods into her stomach; if ever there was a voice that could compel him, both halves, wholly and completely, it would be hers.

“And I love you, too. All of you, by the way.”

“I tore apart a mattress,” Jack moans. “You sure you love that part?”

She laughs, the sound softening every line in Jack’s face as he relaxes into her, and she rubs his shoulders with a doting firmness that makes his heart sing.

“I do, actually; it was kind of cute. I think you were just trying to make a bed pile for us.”

“Leave it to you to,” he mumbles, trailing off, “to find something cute in a werewolf.”

“‘S not my fault. You’re the one who’s a cute werewolf. I’m just an impartial observer, making a statement of fact.”

Jack doesn’t have nearly enough energy to play-argue with her, but he has enough that he manages to open his eyes and stare up at her. Something looks different about her, now: a glow to her features, not quite new, but more pronounced. He wonders if she’s just his guardian angel, come to care for him, and that what he’s seeing is her halo; that must be it. Her halo.

Her light outshines the moon; the wolf bays for her, now.

links to previous fics in this series:

cubs.

familia.

thank you for reading! comments and replies are always appreciated, and give me immense motivation to continue these stories! feel free to let me know what you thought and what you’d like to see next!

[poetickitten]

Y'all want some... Astarion porn?

Title: In the quiet night

Tags: romance, smut, lots of feelings and hand-wrapping and noises and stuff, explicit, argument, slightly angry sex, mention of use of alcohol

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav (both POVs)

Under the cut, because, y'know, porn.

warning: emotional breakdown in the tags

ok, so here it goes. hope ya enjoy!! :D

The night is turning dim in the hour before dawn. A canopy of stars stretches above, their distant light casting a gentle, ethereal glow over the campsite. Tavir is lying nestled in her bedroll, curled up in a ball, snug and warm. The muffled sounds of laughter and distant music swirling through the air from the lakeside are punctuated by the crackling of the dying campfire. The flickering flames dance like ancient spirits, their warmth still offering comfort as they slowly dwindle.

Drowsy as she feels from a little too much wine, her mind won’t allow Tavir to slip into peaceful slumber quite yet. Unacknowledged during the last few days, unbidden images of Astarion’s face emerged in her mind as soon as she closed her eyes; the outline of his lips in a wicked grin when he suggested she lie with him, the haughty look in his proud eyes when she refused; the way the moonlight caught in his hair tonight whenever she dared to steal a glance during the party; the way they were drawing circles around each other, watching each other out of the corners of their eyes. He must have found it hard tonight, amidst the many people mingling, chattering, and celebrating, to be the sole focus of attention and satisfy his seemingly unquenchable desire for shallow adoration. And so she saw, every now and then, a glimpse of his face when he thought that no one was looking. She was, and still is, inexplicably struck by the absence of the usual layer of callous nonchalance and almost indecent self-regard in his expression. It hits her, now that she is free to search her own mind for the cause of this unsettling restlessness, that something has been different for a while now…     

Tavir tosses and turns for several minutes, trying to quieten the nervous movement of her fingers playing idly with a loose thread on her wool covered pillow, working through some lingering uncertainty.

What in the nine hells is going on? She told him: ‘No.’ And for good reason. ‘Too close.’, she said, and meant it. Too presumptuous, too cocksure of himself, too theatrical – and impossibly irritating. And she is too impatient for that. Having lived for years with no company but her own hasn’t exactly made her more willing to indulge people’s vanities and little manipulations. So why then this gleeful feeling at the thought of his face? His lips soft, close to hers. His voice, low and urgent in her ear, hands at her neck-

Suddenly aware that her heart is thudding, her eyes snap open and she can feel her brow furrowing. She stares angrily into the dim light cast by the dying embers behind her. Then, a low chuckle meets her ears.

“Aww, what’s the matter?”, the now familiar, drawling voice punctuates the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, “Bad dream? People making too much noise?”

Astarion is sitting on the ground not ten feet from her, lounging against an old fallen tree trunk, bottle in hand.

Tavir sits up, the warm cover falling from her shoulders, and looks back at him, annoyed and embarrassed. Her quick mind has a biting remark half formed, though she is still feeling a little woozy, when she notices the forced expression on his face: Sour-- trying, and almost failing, to fall back into his usual sneering tone of voice.

She stares.

“What?” He says somewhat aggressively, then leans his head back against the tree, eyes still fixed on her face. “Am I sitting too close?”, he scoffs, lips pulling up in a sardonic leer, failing to hide the genuine bitterness in his voice, although she can hardly believe it.

No one is watching now. His usually haughty expression still isn’t back. Instead – is she seeing this right? – the bitterness in his words is palpable.

“Why aren’t you with the others?”, Tavir asks, ignoring his rude tone.

He shrugs one shoulder in a non-committal gesture and averts his eyes.

She stares a moment longer.

He doesn’t answer.

“Why wake me, then?”, she snaps, about to turn her back to him.

“Oh, excuse me, my dear.”, voice dripping with sarcasm, “I forgot. I shall maintain a proper distance from now on.” He gets up, a little unsteady on his feet. But he doesn’t walk away.

They glare at each other. His thinly veiled criticism of her demand to keep some distance between them stings. What right does he have to question her wish? All newly blossoming tenderness for him quickly drains from her mind, to be replaced by the desire to gain the upper hand. After all, she left well alone. Every time they crossed each other’s paths at the party, she circled back, avoiding him. So, he noticed.  

After a few moments he turns as if to walk away, but then reels back round and hisses at her. “Don’t think I didn’t realize what you were doing tonight! Discovered some new-found interest in the toy you threw aside yesterday, did you?”

“What?”, she blurts out, indignant, feeling somewhat trapped. “Don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy.” She puts venom in her voice. “I simply told you ‘No’. Hardly my problem if- “

“If what?”, he snaps.

In her anger and embarrassment, Tavir can’t quite bring herself to say it. Naming this strange thing between them would mean acknowledging it to him and how is she supposed to do that, when-

She splutters irritably, searching for an excuse, better yet, a defence, but he gets there first.

“Oh, perish the thought, darling. How silly of me to delude myself- “, he is back to his usual self, snide and aloof, but the anger still visible in the crease between his brows. “How could I ever presume that her majesty would deign- “. He trails off, stands apparently undecided for a moment, then walks back to the fallen tree trunk and slumps down on the ground, bottle raised to his lips.

He looks so genuinely hurt that Tavir can’t help but stare. She feels a strange remorse twisting her face and turns away. The tenderness, some sweet longing is still there, underneath the anger and embarrassment.

A few moments pass in silence.

He caught her unawares. She feels an unfamiliar vulnerability pulling at the corners of her mind. She tries to push it back beneath the surface, refusing to admit, even to herself, what is truly bothering her.

“Tavir.” He speaks her name in a voice so soft she wouldn’t even recognize it as his, if she didn’t know he was the only person close enough for her to hear.

She doesn’t look up. “What?”

He repeats her name, “Tavir.”, quiet and intent.

She half-turns and peeks at him over one shoulder.

“Come here.”

Tavir sits up, looking at him fully once more.

He beckons. His eyes are half closed, head leaning back, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips.

Tavir can’t supress a small grin of her own. But she still hesitates and quickly composes her face. There’s a gleam in his eyes now, a little wicked perhaps, but not dishonest.

She can’t help but feel a little gleeful. Her blood is still hot with the rush of anger and defiance, and it does nothing to calm this strange new desire for him.

She slowly gets to her feet and with a few steps has closed the distance between them, her torn linen skirt swaying around her hips a little more than is strictly necessary. She steps over his legs, offensively close, and plants her feet on either side of him. Astarion looks up at her, seemingly unperturbed. Tavir fixes him with a haughty look in her eyes, almost leering. “I hate when you act the cocky schoolboy, you know.”, she says, some trace of bile still in her voice. She places the ball of her foot on his bent knee and pushes down. “It’s so…”, she pauses, searching for the right words, and extends one hand down to him, allowing him to keep her steady as she lowers herself onto his lap, “…disingenuous.” She places one hand on the side of his face and moves her lips close to his. His breath catches.

“I don’t care for these antics of yours.”, she goes on, slowly and intent, voice more tender now. “This ridiculous façade – “. She takes his hand in hers and places a tentative kiss on it, measuring for his reaction. “I’ve seen enough of that side of you.” Her thumb grazes his cheekbone. “When you asked me to lie with you- “. His eyes are darting back and forth between hers. “- I said no, and I meant it.” She pauses. “I don’t want the façade. Astarion-” Her gaze wanders along the outline of his lips, then back up to his eyes, warmth creeping up her face. “I want to see you- “, she readies herself, “-bared.” His nostrils flare and he takes a heavy breath. But almost immediately his eyes harden a little, one eyebrow pulling up. His lips part as if to speak, but Tavir withdraws her hand from his face. Holding his hand in both of hers now, she turns it over and, in an adoring gesture, she places several more kisses on it, soft lips ghosting over his palm. Then she fixes him with a small smirk and takes two fingers in her mouth, sucking gently.

His other hand jerks up and grabs her thigh. He just manages to supress a growl. Tavir takes her time, fixes him with an insolent glint in her eyes, lets him feel the warmth of her tongue. Then, smiling up from under her lashes, guides his wet fingers down between her legs.

  ***

Astarion can feel the warmth of her body seeping into his blood. She places his fingers between the soft folds of her cunt and starts rolling her hips against him. He groans at the sensation, the brazen bare facedness of her lust. Then, the cheeky grin fades from her face. She closes her eyes and presses her lips tight, revelling in her own pleasure, her own mask slowly slipping.

She has put his own desire for her perfectly into words- to see her bared. What until a few days before was intended as a feat of self-preservation has, much to his astonishment, been turning into genuine desire. A little taken aback at her refusal to play along with his all-too-well practiced routine, it was only afterwards that he began to notice the languid movement of her hips, the cheeky glint in her eyes. But over the past few days, his attraction to her has been turning sour. ‘Too close.’ The words still sting. They made him realize how worryingly deep his little infatuation has become. He was slightly revolted at his own churlishness when she reminded him just a few minutes ago of his ridiculous pining.

But now, Astarion is not quite sure how, their little quarrel has brought her close after all, into his arms.

She leans her forehead against his. The smell of sweet wine fills his head, and he means to kiss the taste from her parted lips, but Tavir withdraws. His hips want to jerk up to touch her, rush against her. She digs her nails into the back of his hand between her legs and hums with pleasure, then wraps both arms around him, her body moving closer. He tries to kiss her again, hold her tight. His free hand grapples at her back, but she averts her face. Why is she pulling away from him? He can think of nothing now but the need to be closer; to feel her squirming beneath him, press his body against hers, only dimly aware how easy, how natural it feels to keep his mind from falling into its old habit of wandering. A low moan escapes his lips at the thought of pushing himself into her. He searches her face, seeking connection and drinking in her expression contorted with lust; but her eyes are closed tight with the obvious pressure building within her. He can feel her warmth over his aching cock, her wetness on his hand where he is caressing her. His fingers slip easily into her, and she gives a little squeak that finally and completely dissolves any will he had left to not lose himself in her completely. Struggling for some restraint, control, out of habit, Astarion feels his brows furrowing. When Tavir hides her face in his neck and he feels her tongue slipping over his neck, he reaches for the string holding his trousers, meaning to free his straining cock. He will feel her against him, one way or another. She sits up on her knees and pulls down his trousers. He grabs her neck, a bit too harshly perhaps, and holds his cupped hand in front of her face.

“Spit.”, he mutters, voice hoarse. Her eyes glint, dark with lust, and she complies. He fixes her with his gaze, takes himself in hand behind her back and begins to stroke up and down his length.

***

Tavir is ready to melt at the look in her lover’s eyes. The heady mix of prideful glee and lustful oblivion on Astarion’s usually so composed face sends her reeling with pleasure.

She has him there.

She reaches behind her, takes him in hand and slowly slides onto his cock. His hips snap up against her. Unwilling, or unable, to give her full control, he grabs her hips and pushes her down against him. For a moment, her instinct overrules her faltering resolve to not give every bit of intimacy so freely. She grapples with the sensation of him filling her body, filling her head, and she moves close to his face. His eyes soften suddenly. They stay like this, locked into each other’s eyes, until the feeling of him straining against her walls becomes too much. Even with the overwhelming waves of release washing over her, she cannot move her gaze from his when he comes.

The tension leaving her body, she slumps into his arms, head blissfully empty and a little woozy again. When she sits up and looks at him again, there is a yearning in his eyes, soft and round, that quite disarms her. She feels the urge to kiss him, finally, sink into the softness that comes after; she feels that all her pretence is stripped from her.

And then something snaps back into place.

She hasn’t even realized that the sounds of distant music and chatter are still in the air around them. The others are nearby, a sharp reminder that it isn’t only the two of them here.

The two of them?

What does that even mean now? Even with the feeling of his warmth still inside her, she still cannot quite acknowledge how much she yearns to give herself to him. He is searching her face hungrily, questions in the small lines around his eyes.

She feels besieged.

Tavir averts her eyes and gets to her feet.

She forces herself not to notice the puzzled look on Astarion’s face. She only notices out of the corner of her eyes that he is scrambling a little where he is still sitting, trying to pull his trousers up.

She can still feel the soft tingle of his cum dribbling down the inside of her thighs.

Tavir means to step to the side and return to her bedroll perhaps, or even to walk towards the edge of the forest. Just get away. Anywhere, now.

But Astarion grabs her by the wrist, and she turns back, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Tavir.”, he almost whispers, voice so gentle again, so earnest, she wants to stomp her foot in frustration.

Reluctant, she lets him pull her back. He holds on to her waist, holding her firmly in place, and looks up at her.

“Stay.”, he says quietly. “Stay with me tonight."

At last, Tavir gives in.

He has her there.

[sunshinereddie]

As the sun just began to dip in the sky behind him and the final minutes before his curfew approached, Eddie begrudgingly decided to go with the last option. He knew that with everything he was feeling, he was in no state to confront his mother about such a serious issue. If he went in there now, with his emotions as high as they were, demanding answers, things would end up ugly. He knew that the best, and the safest, thing to do would be to pretend that nothing had changed at all- to just bite his tongue, and try his very hardest to be civil with his mother for tonight. All he had to do was make it through dinner, and then he could escape to his room and carefully plan out what he would do next. 

All he had to do was make it through dinner. And as confused and angry as he was with his mom, as much as her lies were hurting him, Eddie was sure he could hold things together for one dinner. 

He just didn’t know that his plan was destined to fail, to fall apart the moment he walked through the front door. 

chapter 13 of puppy love is up! read here!

[antelopunny]

T…THANKS ???

more thoughts under the cut (cw: uncensored homophobic slurs)

OK SO MY FIRST REACTION WAS alright this commentor’s probably fresh to fandom / autistic (as an autistic person myself, who has said foot-in-mouth shit like this before and still do ALL THE TIME) so I was like alright… they might just need someone to explain why it’s pretty fucking rude to insinuate that their wlw fic is inferior in any way to a het one, even if you’re praising their writing

BUT

I also know that my fic has been discussed on the 4chan Rogue Trader threads on /v/ and they all take the same stance that my writing quality is really good, but they really wish it (quote) “wasn’t dyke shit” (and then had an argument about how disliking yuri was actually a sign you’re gay)

SO LIKE…

[themyscirah]

Suffering more than Jesus atm (being a fan of 80s/90s Suicide squad in 2024)

[plinktastic]

I can post text only posts on tumblr therefore I can post my bugbo x dhmis fanfic, so, may I present to you...

Dont Hug Me I'm Bugbo

(gerbo, joe, and bugbo all walking in the rain)

"dont worry, im sure we will find shelter eventually" bugbo says, hand shielding his face from the rain. "and if not, the rain *will* stop at some point" he said, turning to gradient joe who was absolutely sopping wet, and unable to talk because his papers would be to soaked to read.

"oh grub i hope s- ..wait, bugbo look!" gerbo says, pointing to a large pink house with a dark blue door, "we should ask them if we can stay until the rain stops!"

"well, we dont have a choice do we" bugbo responds, quickly walking up to the door before knocking a few times, his friends trailing close behind.

...

silence fills the house, a sense of dread overcoming the 3 friends sitting around the table.

"...is someone at the door?" yellow guy finally asks, hesitating for a moment.

after another second of silence red guy gets up and walks towards the door, slowly placing his hand on the door handle.

*creeaaak*

the sound of the pouring rain fills the house, followed by the strange bugs voice. "ah, hello, my soon-to-be-friend, my name is bugbo. mind if we stay for a bit?" he asks, gesturing slightly to his friends.

"uhh.. come in" red guy responds, clearly not knowing what to say, but allowing the odd group into the house.

despite all the things they have seen, this "bugbo" creature and his friends seem to be the strangest, but nonetheless they were glad to see someone other then one of the self proclaimed "teachers".

as gerbo stepped into the house, he shoke the water off slightly like a dog. "hello! my name is gerbo!"

"and what are you? some sort of germ?" duck responded, glaring at gerbo.

"ah, easy mistake to make, my dear friend gerbo here is a spider." bugbo corrected, making uncomfortable eye-contact with duck.

"well, uh, do you need a towel or.. something?" red guy asked, after only barely talking to the same 2 people for as long as he could remember his social kills were clearly lacking.

gradient joe glanced towards bugbo, still unable to communicate, bugbo picking up on what he wanted as it was very obvious as he was still drenched.

"Oh, yes, do you happen to have a spare notebook as well? Joe here cant talk and his is soaked beyond repair" bugbo asked, causing them to somehow go even more awkwardly silent as before.

"is everything o-" Gerbo responded after a moment, before being quickly interrupted by a voice coming from the room next to them. They couldn't quite make out what it was saying because of the distance.

"oh, thats just one of those guys, ignore it" duck said, speaking louder then normal in an attempt at covering the voice, clearly annoyed.

"ill.. go get you a towel then. or. a few towels i guess." red guy added, walking off further into the house. as red guy walked away yellow guy looked up from what he was doing.

"oh, hello" he said, slightly off-put from seeing unfamiliar people.. or, bugs, i guess.

"hello!" gerbo, not picking up on his uneasiness, walked over to him "what are you doing? can i watch?"

"oh, im doing a crossword" yellow guy responded, pointing to a section on the newspaper.

"i bet bugbo would be good at one of those! he knows so many words" gerbo smiled, sometimes bugbo would use a word he'd never heard before but he could usually figure it out through context.

"I suppose i would be, may i see the paper?" bugbo said, walking up to the table aswell. yellow guy handed over the newspaper, flipping it over to face bugbo who looked at it for a moment before shaking his head.

"hm. not for me i guess" he said before turning over to joe."why dont you give it a try?"

joe stopped shivering and walked over to the table beside bugbo, pulling out his red crayon. bugbo slide the paper towards him as he pulled up his sleeves as to not get the paper wet.

after just a minute he had solved the crossword, amazing almost everyone in the room.

"You really are the cleverest person i know" bugbo said.

"woah!! that was so fast!" gerbo quickly added.

the excitement in the room washed over duck, whos attention was focused on the fact that bugbo and his friends were just like better versions of him and his friends.

Bugbo and red guy were both tall, and almost the same color, but bugbo was more outgoing.

Gerbo and yellow guy were both a little dumb, and a similar color yet again, but gerbo seemed to be having tons fun despite everything.

and lastly, joe and duck, they didnt have to many similarities but instead were more like opposites. joe was quiet and went along with anything, while duck was loud and rebelled at any chance possible.

its almost like they took their biggest flaws and flipped them into strengths.

the worst part is how good of friends they were.

duck was sure they were planted there to teach them something, like the many teachers before them. just as he was about to say something, red guy returned with a handful of towels.

"ah, i almost forgot" bugbo said, taking the towels and handing them to gerbo and joe, both of them quickly starting to dry themselves as they were not used to being wet, it doesn't rain much in bugland.

"one more thing, do you have a heater? its quite cold in here" bugbo asked, while clearly being unbothered by the frigid temperature.

the group expectantly turned to the thermostat, who followed along by coming to life. "te-!"

"no"

just as it came to life, the thermostat turned back to normal, just from the single word. it was then turned up, slowly warming the house back up to a normal heat.

"h- how did you.." red guy started, before trailing off.

"we dont have time for that" bugbo responded, clearly unnerving them again, and only confirming ducks theory.

their gaze slowly traveled up to the clock on the wall, but it stayed put, as a normal clock should.

"are you guys.. okay?" gerbo asked, finally noticing the ever so cuttable tension in the room. "we can leave if you want!"

"no, gerbo, you dont want to get soaked again, do you?" bugbo said, "and plus, i think we might be able to help"

"we dont want your help!" duck responded, "i dont want to get roped into another stupid lesson again! im tired of this!"

"well, thats not a very kind thing to say" bugbo said, somehow keeping his calm demeaner. "but if thats how you want it to be, we will be out of your hair as soon as the rain clears up"

"wait" yellow guy spoke up.

maybe these guys where different then the other teachers? plus, they didnt immediately overwhelm them with facts that didnt make any sense, so maybe it was a chance that needed to be taken.

"can you show me how to do this crossword too?"

or... not.

Joe helped with the crossword as the rain slowly cleared up, and they were on their way as promised, leaving the towels nicely folded on the table.

this is a photo of me reading the fanfic outloud to you, hope you enjoyed!