#and the fact that all three of them are entirely split up is exactly what Morekai needed

[garciaasfluffypen]

take care of me (like i take care of you) pt.1

pairing: jemily x adhd!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: emily smokes in this one (SMOKING IS DANGEROUS LADIES, GAYS AND THEYS pls dont ruin ur lungs), reader is mentioned to vape but it is not shown, female terms of endearment - "little miss", y/n has a minor flashback to a previous relationship where they got belittled that leads to an rsd breakdown a/n: THIS PART GOT TOO LONG AND I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE MAIN PLOT POINT UNTIL 2.4k WORDS IN so its being split into two parts teehee :) also... i should have put this in the first part, but the house they live in is jj's house from cm evolution bc i'm quite literally obsessed with it anyway pls ignore the fact that it's clearly not three femme presenting humans holding hands i couldn't find a gif like that anywhere

you all had been blessed with a whole week off. a whole week that you got to spend with your favorite people in the entire world and not have to worry about being called in.

it had been ages since you had a whole week where you didn’t have to worry about a single work thing bothering you. the last time you had done this, you had convinced your then best friends to take you to their favorite park and have a picnic, go to the movies and even take you to the trader joes to get your favorite snacks. but this week, this week was different. firstly, you were now dating your best friends, and had been told to stay at theirs as long as you wanted to. you hadn’t left except to go to your apartment and grab a suitcase full of clothes. secondly, the case you had just finished drained the hell out of the three of you. a majority of the time was spent curled up on the couch cycling through shows on netflix and amazon prime, everyone taking turns picking a show to watch while eating leftover chinese food and cuddling. but today you were determined to get out of the house.

the local zoo was holding a sale to celebrate the birth of a new baby giraffe, which happened to be some of your favorite animals ever. so naturally, you got three tickets for the three of you last night and made sure you were up before both of your girlfriends to ensure you got your hands on tickets to feed the giraffes. it had been on your bucket list for a long time. ever since you were little, giraffes had intrigued you. they just looked so soft and cuddly. and you wanted to touch one. so, so bad. 

which is how you found yourself up at seven in the morning, squeezing yourself out from between the two older women and seaking downstairs, curling up in the armchair that you had claimed to yourself and grabbing your ipad. well, technically it was emily’s but she barely used it so therefore it was yours. you had all your favorite games on it anyway, so it was only fair that you used it more since you liked to play games on the jet. making sure you got to the website bright and early, you went to the page where you needed to buy the giraffe experience tickets and waited patiently until 7:30am hit and the first wave of tickets were sent out into the interwebs. within minutes, you had the three tickets you needed in your email. the next step to buttering up your girlfriends for a day at the zoo was to make breakfast. 

you knew exactly what breakfast each of them liked, and had memorized it a few weeks prior for moments like this. emily loved her bacon crispy, her eggs over easy and a marlboro gold by the bay window. jj, on the other hand, loved when you made the pillsbury biscuits with honey and butter, some sort of potato and getting kisses from both you and emily. considering emily usually woke up a little bit before you and jj on a typical day, you decided to start on hers first. you grabbed the box of cigarettes from her purse and put it over by the seat next to the kitchen table, opening the window so the cool dc air would flow through the kitchen as you cooked. sometimes you were tempted to light up a cigarette and see what they were like, but you couldn’t let go of your favorite fruity little flavors. that was another thing you added to your mental list of things to never let emily find out, since you knew she’d give you the look that she gives you whenever you’ve somehow disappointed her. 

jj had found out by a total accident a while ago, clocking your antsiness before you even did. you had stepped out for a breath of fresh air, not realizing that jj had followed you until you were mid hit and felt a presence behind you. while she had been disappointed, she knew that the oral fixation couldn’t be stopped if you weren’t chewing on your chewy necklace. you did your best to wear it, but sometimes the need for the nicotine buzz was stronger than your little necklace and you wanted to feel the dopamine. she sat with you outside while you tried to explain the way it made you feel, and she sat there the whole time and listened to you. she made you promise to lower the nicotine level, which you agreed to, but kept forgetting to go down whenever you stopped by the shop. 

despite the fear looming over you of disappointing emily, you couldn’t help but realize everything had been so easy with them. from communicating your needs to even just asking for them to sit with you. they made sure you were their number one priority. to this day, you were still scared of waking up in your dingy one bedroom all alone and still single. but now, here you were, slowly moving your stuff into their apartment and preparing to leave most of your old appliances at the local goodwill. it was a pleasant change, knowing you were moving somewhere nice and calm and where people supported your every move. where they wouldn’t yell at you when you forgot to refill the soap, or restock the cheese drawer after a grocery trip. 

shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you heard the bedroom door creak open and the padding of emily’s sock feet grew louder as you started smiling. 

“you’re up early,” emily beamed at you. “what’re you doing?”

“taking care of my girlfriends.” you shrugged. “cigs are on the table for you next to your window.” 

emily narrowed her eyes playfully at you. “you have a plan for today, don’t you?” 

“maybe i do, maybe i don’t.” you playfully smiled back at her. “you gotta wait for jayje to wake up.” 

“you know, you can be bad at hiding things sometimes.” emily came over to you and wrapped her arms around your waist. “you have the cheesiest grin on your face right now.” 

“can i not just make breakfast for my girlfriends when i want to?” 

emily placed a peck on your cheek, then captured your lips in a kiss. “you’re a devious little thing, lovey.” 

“and you adore me for it.”

“that i do.” 

you placed another kiss on emily’s lips before ushering her over to her window, grabbing the sheet pan of biscuits and slipping them into the oven. you relished these small moments with emily, where it was the two of you. you got these moments with jj at night, since emily typically stayed at the office later than you guys did. taking the mornings with just the two of you was something you tried to do more often than not, since you craved quality time with both of them. you loved having time with both of them together, but alone time with each of your girlfriends was something you cherished. you made sure to get emily’s coffee mug filled just the right amount and bought it over to the table, wrapping your arms around her from behind as the smoke flowed from between her lips. you had at least five more minutes before you had to start cooking the bacon and eggs, which meant you could sit with emily and bask in the moment. 

before you knew it, jj made her way into the kitchen, smiling widely as she came and wrapped her arms around you as you stood over the pan. your eyes momentarily closed as you leaned back into the blonde, letting her place a few kisses on your neck before turning around and capturing her in a kiss. you smiled at her before turning back to the bacon, making sure that side was crispy as you could get it before flipping it around. 

“what’s all this?”

“well… i uh, i had a plan for us today.”

you saw emily struggle to hold back a chuckle out of the corner of your eye.

“can you guys both be ready by nine thirty? no wait, be ready by nine fifteen and in the car by nine thirty because we need to be at the place by nine fifty in order to beat the crowds and get to where we need to be on time for our tickets because our tickets are for eleven.” you paused, looking at your girlfriends. “can you be ready by nine fifteen?” 

“i mean, yeah.” jj looked over to emily. “do you know the plan?���

“just that little miss over here woke up before us and i woke up with no blankets on me because in the midst of everything you stole all of them.” emily joked, poking her tongue out at jj. 

you started rocking up to the balls of your feet. “so um… there might be a new baby giraffe at the zoo and i might have gotten us tickets because i really really wanted to see the giraffes and they’re my favorites and they were running a sale because of the new baby and--” 

jj chuckled. “you are adorable, did you know that?” 

“is that a yes?”

“of course it's a yes, bubs.” jj placed a kiss on your cheek. “i’d love to go to the zoo with you.” 

“emmy?” you looked over to emily, the new nickname slipping out of your lips with ease. “can you come to the zoo with us? you’ll probably say no which is okay because i can always invite penelope or tara but-”

“why would you think i’d say no?” 

negative feelings overflowed your system as you remembered vividly the face that had been pulled when you asked to go to the zoo or do anything you considered fun. you felt yourself slipping into a dissociative state, fingers looking for something to stim on as you worked through your feelings. the harsh words of “why the fuck would you want to go to the zoo?” reverberated through as memories of one of your previous flings flew to the front of your mind. the shame you felt for wanting to enjoy your time together became unbearable and overwhelming, making you realize that your girlfriends could become annoyed with you like that and change their minds. what if they thought you were childish? what if they figured out you were too much for them?

emily looked over to jj. “did i say something?” 

“i don’t know. i don’t think so?” jj looked over to you, your eyes glazed over. “um.. shit wait, okay, i think they’re having an rsd episode, i’ll get their work bag. the marble fidget they use to calm down is in there.” 

emily scooted out from behind the table as she put her cigarette out, sneaking behind you to grab the pan off the stove before the bacon burned. she put her arms around you and pulled you close, running her hand up and down your back lightly as she waited for you to come out of your funk. she locked eyes with jj as she came back into the room, digging through the bag for the fidget toy in question, sticking it in your hands before you could start scratching at the side of your nails. a few minutes passed before you came back, the feeling of both emily and jj’s arms around you grounding you in the present, pushing the negative feelings to the back of your mind.

“‘m sorry.” 

“it's okay, lovey. do you want to talk about it?” 

“um… can you just… i’m not too much, right?” 

emily pulled back. “what makes you think that?” 

“whenever i asked about doing things that i liked, nobody really wanted to do them.” you looked down shamefully. “i shouldn’t have presumed you’d want to go with me.” 

“y/n y/l/n” blue eyes looked into your own. “you don't need to hide yourself with us. never hide yourself with us. you’re allowed to have your likes and act on them.” 

“but-”

“ah ah,” jj tilted your chin up, making you look at her. “don’t you dare.” 

it was almost as if a switch had been flipped in jj, her eyes darkening slightly as she stared at you. it caused your legs to turn to jelly, rendering you practically useless in your girlfriend's arms. you weren’t entirely sure what was happening, but it sent a wave of excitement through your veins. 

“we’re going to the zoo with you, we’re going to have fun, and we’re going to have a good day.” jj shot emily a ‘we need to talk about this’ glance before continuing. “go get dressed and ready for the day, we’ll finish our breakfasts and go enjoy the zoo.” she gave you a pointed look. “capeesh?”

all you could do was nod, your eyes widening in… whatever this feeling was that you were feeling. 

“words, y/n.”

“y-yes.” you swallowed. “okay.” 

jj smiled, switching back to her normal self and placing a kiss on your lips. “thank you for breakfast, by the way. it smells delicious.” 

you shyly smiled back. “i wanted you to be in a good mood before i asked you to go to the zoo.” 

emily pulled you in for a hug. “you never have to do anything for us to be in a good mood around you. we-” she paused. “there’s nothing you could do to put us in a foul mood.” 

“are you sure?”

“we’re sure. now go get ready, lovey, we’ll be up in a little bit when we finish our breakfast.” it was emily’s turn to kiss you. “don’t forget your meds.”

“oh shit, my meds!” 

emily and jj watched you run out of the room, both of the older women chuckling. emily wrapped her arms around jj, placing her head on her shoulder. 

“we’re going to need to work on talking about feelings, huh?” 

jj nodded. “it seems like it.” 

“would it be too much to castrate the exes who hurt them?” 

“uh… yes? we’re not castrating anyone.” jj lightly slapped emily’s arm. “go finish your bacon, we have places to be.” 

“we do need to have a serious talk with them about it, at some point.”

“yeah,” jj agreed. “lets just… they need to know we’re here for them. let’s focus on them the rest of the week and go from there.” 

emily nodded. “we’ll go from there.”

taglist: @jayden-prentiss

[gailynovelry]

Ember Warrior is now 55,500 words long!

[whorefordean]

wear the hat || d.w

i read exactly one cowboy romance so enjoy (fake)cowboy!dean and the cowboy hat rule

wc: 1.9k

cw: raw dogging, semi public sex, use of petname (sugar), the cowboy hat rule

taglist: @the-last-ry

mdni 18+

you can’t help yourself. dean looks so goofy in the outfit, and you can’t refrain from teasing him about it. on this hunt, for whatever reason, dean thought it’d be best if he poses as a cowboy. 

“to get more information from the locals. they’ll never talk if i look like a city boy, sweetheart,” dean says with a simple shrug. there’s a smile playing on his face, and you cann’t help but to roll your eyes. 

“dean, you’re from kansas and you wear flannels every day. nobody thinks you’re a city boy. the hat is most definitely overkill,” you tell him as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“i’m not taking it off,” dean huffs, matching your pose. you glare at him momentarily. he doesn’t look bad. in fact, he looks hot as fuck, and maybe, that’s why you need him to chill out on the disguise. 

you toss your hands up in defeat and follow him into the bar. the two of you split up rather quickly. you’re working your charm on the drunken men for any information you could pry out of them about the missing people while dean made his way to a group of women to do the same. 

almost an hour later, you finally manage to get the information you need, and you’re off to find dean. it’s nearing eleven pm at this point and you are ready to go. that is, until you see dean sitting at the bar with a girl who is entirely too close for your comfort. 

you and dean aren’t an item, per se, but the two of you have been a little more than friendly on more than one drunken occasion. 

you tap on dean’s shoulder lightly in an effort to get his attention. nothing. the girl he’s talking to is shooting you glares every chance she gets. you roll your eyes and decide that there was only one way to get his attention. 

so you snatch the cowboy hat off his head and slip it onto yours. dean whips around to face you. you’re expecting him to snatch it right back, but instead, dean just smirks, seemingly forgetting all about the blonde he was talking to a minute beforehand. 

“i’m ready to go,” you huff, adjusting the hat on your head. your hands finally rest on your waist, hip popping out. dean doesn’t say anything. just kept staring and grinning. 

“dean, seriously? what?” you puff, annoyed at his behavior. 

“you know the cowboy hat rule?” dean muses, leaning back to get a good look at you. his gaze rakes over you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“the what?” you ask evenly. dean’s grin grows wider, and you are half tempted to slap it off of him. 

“the cowboy hat rule, sugar. wear the hat—” dean trails off. he leans forward until his hand rests against your waist, and his mouth is brushing your ear. 

“—ride the cowboy.” your eyes widen as he finishes the phrase. he pulls away just enough to watch your expression change from shock to compliance. he smiles proudly, knowing that you're more than willing to obey the rules. 

no words leave your mouth as you nod, allowing dean to drag you through the mess of people in the crowded bar. the cool summer air bathes both of you as dean pulls you through the exit door and ushers you to the impala. 

his rough hands in yours had your mind racing with thoughts of what they'd feel like skimming your body. in the three times that you and dean have slept together, both of you were too wasted to remember much about it the next morning. you'd wake up with those delicious bruises on your thighs or hips and hate yourself for not being able to remember what the hell went down the night before. however, you aren't ballsy enough to ask him to fuck you when you’re sober, so you settle for forgotten nights. 

your senses snap back to reality when you hear dean clear this throat. that shit eating grin is back on his face when he realizes that you'd been staring at his hand. 

"what is it, sugar? got a thing for hands or just mine?" dean teases relentlessly. you roll your eyes at him, shoving his shoulder lightly. he catches your wrist before spinning you around until you're bent over the hood of the impala. 

"dean," you gasp, bracing yourself against the black metal. dean laughs behind you and leans down until his chest is flush against your back. his lips brush against your shoulder, and you breathe out a sigh, dropping your head against the cool metal when dean starts to lift the hem of your dress up. 

"tell me what you want," dean says softly in your ear, pressing a kiss against your jaw. you have never been more grateful to be parked at the back of the lot. 

"you. need you," you whimper, reaching behind you to grasp at any inch of dean you could reach. 

"mm, 'm right here, sugar," dean says playfully as he hums against your skin. you groan, shaking your head and letting your hand slip down to dean's wrist. you grab his hand and lower it to your aching core. 

"need you here, dean," you say breathily when dean starts toying with your panties. you can hear him inhale sharply behind you, and you arch your back slightly. 

"fuck, sugar," dean groans. without warning, dean rips your underwear down your legs, helping you lift one leg at a time until the fabric is completely off your body. the cool air makes contact with your exposed cunt, causing you to hiss in pleasure. the cold doesn't last long because dean is shifting onto the ground behind you. his hands grip at your thighs, nudging them further open before he dips his tongue into your waiting pussy. 

you mewl as dean laps at you like a man starved. he hums something against your cunt, but you're too lost in the pleasure to listen. that is, until he slaps your ass. hard. you wince, lifting your head to look back at him. 

"answer me when i'm talking to you. being nice enough to eat this pretty little pussy," dean growls, but he doesn't mean it. he'd gladly get on his knees for you, and he'd stay there forever if you'd allow it. 

"what?" you whine, eyes rolling as dean sucks your clit into his mouth. 

"thought you were supposed to be ridin' me?" dean hums again, clearer this time. he doesn't give you time to answer before slipping a finger into you. you cry out when he adds another almost immediately after. 

"yes! yes, i will," you ramble, dropping your head to rest against the car again. your release is so close, and you clench around dean's fingers, his tongue still lapping away. 

before you can cum, dean withdraws his fingers and pulls away completely. you jerk your head around to meet his gaze, eyes wide with need. 

"no! please!" you beg pathetically, desperate for release. dean grips your chin lightly and pulls you back until he can kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. you moan into his mouth before he finally pulls away. 

"come on," dean orders, and you nod compliantly as he pulls you up from the hood of the impala. dean slips into the back seat first, pulling you in behind him. you barely touch the leather seats before dean is tugging you into his lap.

his hardened cock strains against his jeans, and you can’t stop from rolling your hips over his clothed bulge. you tug at his shirt impatiently. dean doesn’t object, tossing the fabric off his body and into the front seat.

his hands grip your hips as he leans in to kiss you again. he guides your hips, the two of you groaning at the friction. your arms are wrapped tightly around his shoulders. 

“fuck,” dean grunts again. he taps your ass lightly, so you pull away with a huff. your pout quickly dissolves when dean lifts you up just enough to undo the button of his jeans, allowing his cock to spring free. 

“oh my god,” you mumble as you stare at his dick. dean smirks before pulling back onto his lap. dean settles your cunt over his cock, but he doesn’t push himself inside of you. not yet. instead, he opts for getting his cock wet with your slick first. 

your eyes roll as you slide your pussy against his hardened dick. you grind your teeth when the head of dean’s cock slips against your clit repeatedly. 

“please,” you pant. dean hums, watching as your movements get more erratic. 

“dean, please. let me ride your cock,” you beg again. your eyebrows are knitted together with your eyes clenched shut. 

“go ahead, sugar. take it,” dean grunts before settling into you completely. you inhale sharply when he grips your ass, pushing you even further onto himself. 

you brace your hands against his shoulder, dropping your head to rest against one of them. dean gives you a second to adjust before he grabs your hips, urging you to move. 

so you do. 

you bite your lip, trying to keep your moans and mewls in as you ride dean. you couldn’t remember a time you felt so fucking full. dean’s dick was fucking perfect, hitting every spot that made your  vision blur with ecstasy. 

you lift your hips repeatedly before settling on grinding against him. you writhe in delight as dean drops his head back against the seat, hands gripping at the sides of your thighs as you continue to bounce and grind against him. you lower yourself to kiss against his neck before burying your face in his shoulder. 

“right there,” you whisper repeatedly, nipping at dean’s neck as your hips start to stutter. dean grips your hair in one hand, tugging your head back until your neck is on full display for him. his arm wraps around your waist, holding you flush against his chest. dean groans as he adjusts the two of you until he has the mobility to drill his hips into yours, cousin you to cry out in pleasure. he doesn’t relent as you finally come around his cock. 

deans sucks a deep bruise into your neck when he finally comes, muttering curses under his breath when his hips finally settle. the only sound in the car now is the two of you panting against each other. you lift your hips, whining as dean’s cum drips down your thighs. 

you look up at dean, but he’s distracted by the sight. his cheeks are reddened, and his eyes are hazy as he watches his cum drip out of your cunt. 

“dean–” 

“fuck, sugar. gonna have to let you steal that fucking hat more often if it means i get to watch you take my cock like that. you look so fucking pretty like this, sugar,” dean grunts, swiping his thumb through the mess on your thighs. he swipes his thumb up further, pressing against your clit before finally bringing his thumb up to your mouth. without speaking, dean nudges your lips open, making you taste the two of you. 

“goddamn it, sugar. can’t wait to use that pretty mouth next time.”

[jarofstyles]

Blurb idea: dark Harry undressing y/n for the first time and she’s really shy and he’s like so in awe of her and like he thinks her underwear is so cute with bows😭 extra-daddy kink

Omg wait this is good…. I may continue it as a one shot if people like it

Check out our Patreon

Warning- knife play, daddy kink, dark h and he’s slightly crazy but oh well

——

“Look at that…” he crooned, tapping the blunt side of the knife over the smooth cotton. “Aren’t these just precious, little dove?”

He could see her chest rising and falling in what he assumed was both anticipation and slight fear. She’d gasped so pretty when he pulled the knife out to cut off the pathetic excuse of a skirt she she’d worn out tonight, but the blade was increasingly close to her skin. He wouldn’t cut her, no, but he could tell from their previous encounters that his little bird liked to be scared. Just a little bit.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know you’d see them.” She stuttered, laid out in his bed. In fact, she’d thought he was ignoring her this whole week. “You didn’t text me back and I wasn’t… I thought you got tired of talking to me.”

“Oh, darling…” he clicked his tongue, face softening slightly. “Never. I was just busy with my… errands.” He smirked at the connotation. Y/N had met him because she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to, and instead of threatening her and making her run off with fear stricken into her heart? He’d decided to comfort her, take her for some hot cocoa and dropped her off at home. It had been entirely her want to kiss, which he’d done so greedily before leaving her.

Since then he hadn’t been able to leave her alone.

“Oh.” She whispered, eyes going back down to the cool metal against her skin. “I thought maybe I wasn’t so good last time.”

Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes as he thumbed over the gusset of her panties. The wet patch was growing, making him feel all the more smug as her breathing hitched. “You think having my load all over that pretty face was me being displeased?” He shook his head at how ridiculous his bird was. “No. I took some pretty pictures and made myself cum a few times when I was away. But the last three days I held off so I’d have some for you. I think you liked it a lot last time, didn’t you?” He mumbled, watching her eyes widen. His girl was shy, but it was good he knew exactly how to read her.

“You did. Tell Daddy y’liked it.” He encouraged her with a kiss to her tummy, eyes meeting hers. “Go one. We both know you know how to use that pretty mouth.”

“I-I liked it, Daddy.” She breathed, hips bucking slightly into his thumb. “I liked it so much.”

A smile split his face as he watched her eyes round out. “That’s my girl. You do so well, y’know that? Even after I’ve corrupted you a bit and made you do all sorts of nasty things for me, you’re the sweetest little thing I’ve ever met. That’s why I keep you.” Another kiss was placed to her sternum as he took the knife from her panties and split her shirt, ignoring the squeak of protest as the tattered fabric was opened to expose a match bra. A light pink with a matching bow in the middle of her tits, just like the taunting one on the waistband of her panties.

“Christ, you’re perfect.” He rubbed his face against her breasts, moving up with sloppy kisses all over her chest. “I love these things. So sweet. Almost could fool me into thinking you’ve got no idea on what to do with a cock, but I’ve taught you so well.” The knife was tossed to the side as his fingers tugged the cup of the bra down, lazily sucking one of her nipples into his mouth for a few seconds. Her hands gripped at his hair in surprise, the choked whimper making his cock twitch. “Was gonna cut these off, cause y’know Daddy hates shit getting in the way of my view but… god, I think M’gonna leave them on. Stain them with my cum. What do you think about that, baby? Gonna let me?”

[seeingivy]

speak now

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

songs mentioned: the greatest by lana del ray and speak now by taylor swift! (minor mentions: daylight and forever winter by taylor swift)

an: LIGHTS CAMERA ACTION BITCHES!!!

previous part linked here

--

There’s something strange about showing Eren around an elementary school. Or strange about being around Eren at all. 

There’s an overarching hunch, a quiet fear that parrots in your mind whenever you’re with him, stuck in those quiet pockets of time that you feel like he can see right through you, that every secret thought ricocheting in your mind is one that he’s entirely cognizant of - and that he hates it for it.

It almost fills you with disgust. How badly you want to be around him all the time, to be able to read him the way you’re positive that he can read you, just so that you can know what he’s thinking. 

Is he upset with the way you reacted? Does he know how grateful you are towards him? Is he consoled by the fact that he’s fully forgiven? Does he care?

Does he think about you as much as you think about him? 

The elementary school makes it worse. Almost emotional. Because it’s the fact that even though it’s not your school, it’s exactly how you remember it - so nostalgic that it’s nauseating. Though the colors are less vibrant, almost too dull this time around. The desks are comically small, when they used to be so expansive that you could barely reach the front corners. 

“Did you ever collect Box-Tops?” you ask Eren. 

He looks at you, face wrinkled in confusion as he shrugs. And the second his eyes lock with yours, you quickly swallow down your gulp of shame - at the lost, almost pinched look in his eyes - as he quickly averts his eyes. 

Does he hate you for bringing it up? Does he want to berate you for rubbing in the fact that he had no semblance of a normal childhood? 

You take the little jar, the little cardboard slips secured in the glass, as you hold it up to him. 

“These are Box-Tops. They’re usually on the top of cereal boxes and granola bars and stuff. You can collect them and bring them to class and whoever gets the most in your grade usually gets a pizza party. It’s a charity-type thing where they get more funds for things like arts programs at your school by turning them into the foundation.” you murmur, placing the little jar in his hands. 

“You can’t just…fund the schools properly?” Eren asks, wrinkling his nose. 

“Are you crazy, Eren? Why would they ever do that?” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Eren smiles.  

“Figures. D’you ever win?” 

“Win what?” 

“The pizza party.” 

“Oh, maybe once or twice. They usually only buy two pizzas so you get a comically small slice so that it’s enough to go around for everyone. And I had Falco and Colt to share with - we had to split all the Box Tops we collected evenly between the three of us so I always felt lame turning like three or four in.” you state. 

Does he think your complaint is stupid? That you should be grateful that you even got to experience it in the first place? 

“What if there was an even number?” 

“Rock paper scissors. Then Falco started crying when he lost, so we ended up giving it to him anyway.” you state. 

“Very on brand.” 

Eren smiles - brightly this time - as he sets the jar back onto the top of the filing cabinets and the two of you continue to awkwardly pace around the room. Eren’s overwhelmed with the memory - of Falco sobbing at his first Canadian Christmas when he was asked what he was thankful for - and the consistency makes him warm.

There’s something unsettling about the room - about how foreign it is to him. There’s a weird echo panging in Eren’s chest, somewhat caused by how longingly you seem to be looking at every little detail of the room. Running your hand over the hardwood desks, picking up the box of crayons, almost frowning at the pictures.

The thoughts that run through Eren’s mind are almost paralyzing, that he can barely keep his beating heart collected in his chest, and more awkwardly, that you know and are choosing to ignore it for civility sake. 

Are you going to leave him when the show ends? Would you have left him if you lived a different life too?

Are you never going to end up together?

“Did you ever see Falco and Colt? When you were at school? S’that like a thing that happened?” Eren asks, poking around each of the little flyers on the bulletin board.

“Ah. Not really. Though sometimes when I was going to art class and Falco was going to computers or something, we’d kind of pass each other. We’d always be really excited to see each other. When we saw Colt, he always pretended like he didn’t even know who we were.” you state. 

Eren can't stop the thoughts.

Do you hate him for bringing up a life that was robbed from you? The security of a school, of a quiet life because he selfishly picked you to be at his side? 

Eren hums in response, as you head over to the last wall - the one left untouched by your inspecting eyes - as you fight the urge to smile. There’s little pictures of each of the students, Teddy right towards the top with a big toothy smile on his face. You point it out to Eren as you catch it before him, memorizing the soft look that spreads over his face when he finally catches light of it. 

“You ever see Zeke?” you ask. 

“Well, we technically watched a movie with him in it? So, that counts?” Eren shrugs. 

“That’s right. Having your own parents and your brother as your source material must be so crazy.”

The thought that follows your comment nauseates Eren.

Are you trying to point out how different you are, so much so that you’ll never be able to be together? 

“I can imagine exactly how you would be in elementary school.” Eren states, slinging his arm around your shoulder and bringing his face nearly flush with yours. 

“Oh yeah?” you ask.

“You’d be like…this girl.” 

You inspect the picture, rolling your eyes at the cop-out answer. Each of the little pictures is labeled with their hobbies or their interests, and naturally, Eren’s picked the girl who says she wants to be a songwriter. 

“You’re funny.” you respond, sarcastically. 

“S’nothing funny about it.” Eren responds. 

“You’d be like…this one. He seems like the type of kid who would pull on a girl's pigtails, which according to Mikasa, is something that you actually did.” 

Eren’s going to kill Jean. 

“That’s just how you get a girl's attention.” Eren responds. 

“Is that right? Had something you wanted to tell Mikasa really badly?” you smile. 

Eren’s almost embarrassed that you know. That he feels the need to defend himself, to prove his devotion to you even though there would be no reason for him to do that. 

“Ugh. Who told you?” Eren asks. 

You can’t help but laugh. 

“I can’t remember. Maybe Jean?” 

“It was two days!” Eren whines. 

You’re not sure how the topic came up, but Jean humbled you very fast when you claimed that you were the first person that Eren ever liked. Apparently you weren’t because Eren had sported a two day crush on Mikasa when they were younger, before he ever met you, which left you embarrassed - but also ready to tease him to oblivion. 

“Eremika…” you state. 

Eren clamps his hand over your mouth, as you quickly shove him off. 

“Shut up.” Eren states. 

“It’s funny! Mikasa’s getting married and you’re stuck at a five-year old’s piano concert. With seats all the way in the back, mind you.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans back and sits on top of one of the desks. You follow suit, ignoring the little creak, as your legs swing over the top of the desk. 

“What was your signature move in elementary school for the boys?” 

“Was I supposed to have game as a seven year old?” 

Eren scoffs. 

“Well, we can’t all be talented.” Eren teases. 

“I hardly qualify hair pulling as a game. That’s an annoying way to get attention.” 

Eren smiles, leaning forward and curling his hands around a lock of your hair, before he lightly tugs. His face is so close to yours that you can make out the tiniest wrinkles in his skin, marked around his eyes. 

“Annoyed?” Eren teases, his voice barely a whisper. 

You shake your head, ever so slightly. A jarring movement feels too loud, like he’ll move away at the smallest of breaths, like a deer in the woods. 

“Down to my very core.” you respond. 

Eren smiles, the wrinkles even more pronounced, as you almost lean your forehead against his, skin ghosting each others. The thoughts are racing at this point, so fast that Eren can barely feel his breaths. 

Is he ever going to be in love with someone who isn’t you? 

“I feel the need to clarify. It was two days.” Eren states. 

“Two days of hopeless pining.” 

“Nothing compared to the three years of it that I did with you.” 

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning. 

He knows. It's written all over your face.

“Nothing compares to a puppy-love childhood crush.” you state. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get the whole innocence of the puppy-love thing, but nothing pales comparison to the intensity of a teenage dream.” Eren states. 

Eren watches your eyes waver and feels his throat constrict. 

You know. It's written all over his face.

Thankfully for him, and less so for you, Sukuna ruins the movement. His shouting from the doorway breaks that quiet bubble, quickly pulling you both farther away from each other. 

“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s starting in five minutes.” 

--

You and Eren settle into your seats at the back, right by the door, as the lights dim in the little auditorium. They’re a warm golden, the smell of fresh paint tickling your nostrils.

Sitting all the way in the back has you and Eren weaving your heads around all the people crowded in front of you, the tiny cell phone lights illuminating each row. 

You catch sight of Lana and Sukuna are aggressively gesturing at Teddy on the stage from their cushy seats in the front row at your left - Sukuna trying to get him to smile for a picture while Lana tries to signal to him to fix his untied shoelaces. The coddling makes your heart burn.  

Eren digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a little camcorder that he hands to you. 

“For?” you ask. 

“Can you record it for me? I just…want to watch him in real time.” 

You smile. 

“Of course, I can.” you murmur, taking the little camera from him and flipping it open in your hands. 

“Don’t record the other kids. I don’t give a fuck.” Eren states. 

“Who knew you felt so passionately about kindergarten piano concert etiquette?” you jeer. 

“You would be shocked. Lana’s basically out of storage by the time she gets to Teddy.” Eren groans. 

You roll your eyes. 

“I think it’s sweet.” 

Eren wonders if there’s anything you can’t find the good in. His wavering suspicion is that it’s him - that you’re the worst thing he’s ever seen. So tainted that there’s barely any semblance of light left in him. 

Eren’s hanging onto the end of your words, wanting to hear the spiral of thoughts running through your mind. Your affinity to look towards the positive, to soak up all the good, to point out all the love in the room - it was something he found himself chasing even though he knew he was barely half deserving of it. 

“I just mean…when I was younger, my mom would tell me that my friend’s mom recorded me singing too and then sent it to her. And I was always really touched that they saw me and didn’t think god, it’s another kid I have to sit through. Like no, that’s Y/N! That’s my daughter’s friend.” 

Eren deflates. He figures that it comes so naturally for you - seeing the good - because he thinks the law of attraction is real; that like attracts like, that people find what’s similar to them. And that he always seems to be the antithesis to it. 

He’s always the exception to your rule. 

“And some parents are late. They’re running here from work, or…or they were late because they had another kid to take care of first and…and it still makes the kid feel special, even if they don’t know it.” you whisper. 

You twist the camera around in your hands as Eren gives you a lopsided smile, an underlying sentiment you can’t really place mirrored in his features. You’d memorize his expression just to agonize about it later, in the safe confines of your room, but your train of thought is cut off by a tapping on your shoulder. 

It’s a little girl - with dark skin and braided hair - barely the age of seven. Her little legs can’t even reach the tan colored floor, her sparkly purple shoes glittering in the dim light. 

“Hi.” she states. 

Eren leans over, a cautious arm on the small of your back, as you lean your head closer to hers and whisper. 

“Hi. Is something wrong?” you whisper. 

“Our dresses are matching colors.” she states. 

You look down - the white flowers printed on your dress matching her frilly pleats. It’s an painfully relieving breath, as you give her a smile. 

“My name’s Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.” 

“Y/N? Like the pop artist?” 

You freeze, freezing cold ice shooting down your spine. 

“I wish my mom named me after someone cool. My name’s Grace. It was my grandma’s name.” 

You can barely muster out a response, Eren’s fingertips at your side squeezing shaking the shock out of your mind. 

“I’m sure your grandma was pretty cool.” you respond, barely registering the words as they leave your lips. 

“I mean, yeah. She was old. But no one’s as cool as Y/N L/N.” she responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You can see Eren smiling out of your peripheral vision, giving a polite nod to the parents seated at her side, who’ve now caught onto the fact that their daughter is talking to a complete stranger. Eren’s quick to diffuse the situation, holding out a hand to them. 

“I’m Eren. This is Y/N. We’re here for Teddy. Curly blonde hair, big brown eyes?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry…did you say your name was Y/N?” 

You give them a sheepish smile, bringing your hands to the coarse skin above your elbows and pinching. 

“That’s right.” 

“Our daughter’s a really big fan.” they state. 

You smile, looking back down at her dark eyes, this time wide in shock. 

“Is that right?” you ask, trying to give her the warmest smile you can. 

Her parents lean down closer to her ears, the overwhelming sense of a flowery perfume taking over your senses, as you watch them talk to her, softly. 

“Okay. Ask her nicely, okay?” they ask. 

Grace gives them an obedient nod, before turning to you and puffing her chest out to you. 

“Can I have a hug?” 

“Oh. You…you want a hug?” 

“Please? It’ll be quick.” she asks, her little voice shrill with a hopeful tone. 

There’s a soft sense of elation that spreads through you, your cheeks warm at such an innocent request, as you can barely stop your arms from shaking. You open up your arms to her, as she nearly jumps into your embrace, and you squeeze her little frame as tightly as you can. The smell of strawberries wafts off her hair, accompanied by a soft giggling sound in your ear that nearly brings tears to your eyes. 

You look up to find her parents, an awkward pinched smile in their eyes, as you give them a polite smile. 

“I promise, I’ll take a picture with her after the show, okay? And if I forget, please come find me and remind me.” 

The relief is apparent in their faces - their sickeningly grateful smiles over something as simple as a picture - as you let go and she settles back into the seat next to you. 

You have to settle for recording Teddy with one hand, a deathlike grip in the camera, only because Grace refuses to let go of your other hand for the rest of the show. 

--

Eren’s surprisingly really good with kids. Or really, not surprisingly at all, because you were finding it hard to identify something that Eren was really bad at. Because even the mistakes he did make were so painfully endearing, so warmly thoughtful that you could barely accost him for it. 

He's making jokes with all the kids - participating in their rock paper scissors contests, playing pranks on their parents, and stealing cookies for them when people aren't looking.

You guys are the last ones to leave the school. But it’s only because Eren’s so enthralled with talking to all the passing people - taking pictures, signing napkins, and making phone calls to all their loved ones - that it makes your chest swell. 

The narrowed eyes still make you nervous, an underlying feeling of inadequacy - of embarrassment for hiding out for so long - is all but nauseating, something Sukuna picks up on right after Eren. 

He lets Lana take the lead on the pictures and mingling with all the parents, apparently something that was Sukuna’s forté, as he keeps his arm linked with yours, backs cold against the cement wall.  

“You know, you can go make your rounds with Lana. I don’t want to ruin your son’s piano concert for you.” you state. 

“This shit is overrated.” 

You smile. 

“You’re lying.” you state. 

Sukuna looks over at you, brown eyes fixed on yours, as you watch a smile curl on his face. It’s almost boyish - and it’s the first time that you’re acutely aware of the fact that Sukuna’s probably the youngest one here - living a life so vastly different from yours. 

“I am lying.” Sukuna states. 

“Do you like it here, Sukuna?” you whisper. 

“I’m better at this than I was at the whole - award show, celebrity world thing. People here are really easily impressed.” 

“Is that right?” 

“I handed a woman a lemonade earlier and she said God bless you. Over a fucking lemonade.” 

“That’s just basic human decency, sweetheart. Were you raised by wolves?” you ask. 

Sukuna scoffs. 

“Basically.” he responds. 

You hum in response, watching Lana crouch on the ground and press her cheek to Teddy’s as Eren quickly snaps the picture for them. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Sukuna asks. 

“Is me saying no going to stop you?” you ask. 

“Probably not.” 

“Proceed.” you respond. 

“So, what did you really do for two years? And don’t give me the same shitty bullshit as last time. I want to know what it was that you did.” he responds, tone unrelenting. 

You pause, mulling over the question. You knew it would come soon enough, the utter bleakness of it all, but you suppose it's like ripping off a bandaid. That it'll become softer to talk about after you do it so many times.

“It’s not pretty.” you respond. 

“I’ve always thought you were really ugly. It’s hardly a difference for me.” 

“Lovely. In a world of boys, you really are a gentleman, Sukuna.” 

He grins, nursing the glass of lemonade in his hand. 

“To be a woman is to perform. Now, tell.” Sukuna responds.

The truth of the matter is that there’s nothing to tell. Because you didn’t do anything. 

“I got home from doing the interview and spent the entire week with Falco and Colt. I-I basically didn’t let them leave my side. Falco slept with me at night, Colt basically watched over me like a hawk.” 

It’s a crashing plate, worried eyes, and an embarrassingly debilitating loss. 

“And then Falco came into my room one day and told me that The Lucky One sold more vinyls than all of my other albums combined, in one week.” you state. 

“Non-fluff shit prevails. I’ve been telling you.” 

“I didn’t approve of that album being distributed as vinyl. For physical sales - at all. It wasn’t about the money or the records or- or any of that. And when Falco told me, I-” 

Sukuna looks over, at the lump in your throat. He knows the feeling too well - the sweaty skin, the heavy tongue, and slips his hand into yours at his side. 

“I broke his phone.” you state. 

“What?” 

“I took it from his hands and I smashed it. Then my own too. That’s partially why I never called you guys. I didn’t exactly memorize your numbers and I wasn’t in a position where I was going to just ask for them back.” you state. 

“Not like you would have called anyways.” Sukuna states.

“I only knew Mikasa was having an engagement party because she sent me a physical invitation. Only knew Marco died because of the news. I-I barely knew what any of them were doing when I was gone, still.”  

You bite your tongue, the tiniest metallic taste enveloping your mouth, as you pull the now warm, puffed up flesh away from your teeth. 

“I knew that if I came back, it would mean I would be sucked back into it. What’s your response going to be, hint at it with this song, come back like this and…I’d rather lock myself in my house then do that again. I love songwriting, but not enough to sacrifice my dignity. I enjoyed my career but it drained the life out of me.” 

Sukuna’s lip twitches. You choose to ignore it for the time being. 

“I took up different hobbies. Got a sewing machine, made sourdough from scratch, I even learned flower arranging. But, I could tell that I must have seemed like I was off my rocker or something. My parents and my brothers never really left my side, I could tell that they were always worrying about me, and-and I hated that because-”  

Sukuna stops you before you get too choked up, now standing in front of you, his back blocking the sight of you from any of the people milling around the courtyard. 

“I know that’s a shitty answer. That I should have been doing something worthwhile. But, but- I was fucking tired. I was done doing all this and I can’t exactly…be a functioning member of society or something. I can barely stand here without people giving me a second look or trying to get a discreet picture.” you whisper. 

“I just wanted to know. I’m not giving you shit for it.” he whispers. 

You frown. 

“You aren’t. But maybe you should.” 

You look over his shoulder, at Eren squishing Teddy’s cheeks with his fingers as Lana takes a picture of them - far too close to barely even get the two of them in it together. 

“He fought for me when I wasn’t even here anymore. I was moping in my house, breaking plates whenever I got frustrated, and he was still moving forward.” you murmur. 

Sukuna pauses. 

“Y/N. Don’t do that. I need you to be so careful with what the fuck you do after you leave here.” 

The sense of urgency in his voice catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Y/N. It won’t happen if you’re careless. You cannot wallow in your own pity about this, I need you to tread lightly, okay?” 

“What won’t happen?” 

Sukuna glares at you.

“You and him. You could spend years pointing fingers at each other, who didn’t do what. You won’t get him back if you stay there when he’s moved forward.” 

“I don’t want him.” you whisper. 

You barely believe it when it comes out of your mouth. 

“You disgust me, Y/N.” he states. 

“You’ve always had such a way with words.” 

“And you’ve always had a lack of critical thinking. Why wouldn’t you want him?” 

“Why would he want me?” 

“He just does. The same way you just do.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Fine. Be a fucking idiot for all I care. If you do ever knock some sense into that thick fucking skull of yours, just be careful. Eren knows that he has to prove he cares about you for you to come back to him. You need to know that he barely thinks he’s deserving of anything from you, so much so, that he won’t ever make the move.” 

Sukuna doesn’t mince his words. You wish he could have you through every important decision of your life just so you wouldn’t stumble and fall as much as you did. 

“Eren’s called the shots since you were fifteen. You’re going to have to call all the next ones. And for the love of god, really. I’m so tired of that fucking freeloader showing up whenever he pleases. And you look really ugly when you look sad, so just do it right please.”  

You smile. 

“Are you insinuating I’m pretty when I don’t look sad?” 

“I hope you fall off a bridge and never recover.” Sukuna responds. 

--

The sniffling cues Eren onto the fact that you’re crying. The air pressure of the plane is overwhelming in his ears, almost so loud that he misses it, but he counts himself lucky that you’ve always been an obscenely loud crier. He peeks his head over the division over your seats and reaches forward to poke your head. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks. 

You give him a meek nod. You know for a fact that he doesn’t believe it for one second. 

“Can I come over there for a second? I don’t want to talk from so far away.” Eren asks. 

“Isn’t that like…illegal? Two people in one seat.” you murmur. 

“This is first class, the seat is basically a bed. And there’s no laws in the air.” 

You frown. 

“Eren. Laws still exist in the air. They’re just local.” 

Eren smiles. 

“Well, aren’t you a little genius? Scooch over.” 

You shift on the seat, pulling your blanket closer to you as Eren very precariously makes his way over to your seat, the two of you almost cramped in the small space. It’s almost funny how there’s barely any room, your foreheads pressed together from the lack of space. 

“Hey.” he whispers. 

“Hi.” 

“What’s wrong, Margaret?” 

You shake your head. His hands are warm on your sides. 

“Come on. Tell me. I’m really good at fixing problems.” 

“I know.” 

Eren can’t place what the tone is in your voice - but it comes out all strained and raspy - that it rubs him the wrong way. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” you clarify. 

“Which way do you mean it?” Eren asks. 

You sigh. 

“I mean. You handled everything considerably well, even if it wasn’t easier for you. You…you waited until I was ready to hear it, until I asked to be told your side of the story. And you put it all together, wrapped in a perfect bow with that documentary, and then took me to see Lana and Sukuna too because you knew I’d want to.” you mumble. 

“Wrapped in a ribbon. Who the fuck calls it a bow?” 

You roll your eyes, earning you a laugh from Eren that’s so loud it makes you laugh too. You reach forward to clamp your fingers over his mouth, muffling the loud sound, as you shush him loudly. 

Eren pauses. 

“I’m glad it worked. And I had a lot of time to think. You don’t have as much, but…we’ll help you. With whatever you want to do.” Eren states. 

You give him a nod, unsatisfied with the answer. 

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks. 

You fish out the little slip of your pocket, nearly smushing your face into his in the process, and place the little paper in his hand. 

“This is…Satoru Gojo’s phone number?” Eren asks. 

“Yeah. I got it from Sukuna.” 

“For what purpose?” 

You pause. 

“I’m going to bury Scott Clarkson into the ground.” 

Eren’s caught off by the answer. 

“You’re what?” 

“What answer were you expecting?” 

“I’m not mad at it. I was just thinking more…I want to write music again. I’m not a quitter.” 

You frown. 

“I thought about that. But it hasn’t exactly worked for me like that. I even tried when I was at the beach but I came up with nothing. But that’s not relevant, I don’t need to write music to end him.” 

“I mean, yeah, I guess. But it’s better that way. Using exactly what they tried to take away from you to get back at them.” Eren responds. 

You smile. 

“You’ll help me?” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I’d do anything for you. Even this. Especially this.” 

You smile. You reach forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard. 

“Thank you. And I get what you’re saying about the music, but it just isn’t happening, so we’ll have to think of something else.” 

“I have an idea. When we get back to set, okay? I think it’ll help.” Eren states. 

You nod. 

“Okay. I trust you.” you respond. 

The sentiment sends a shiver down Eren’s spine. 

“I don’t know how it’ll go. I can’t promise that it’ll work out the way we want it.” Eren clarifies. 

You smile. 

“I was trusting you to help me get back into songwriting, not into bringing him down. I’m talking about help into being…myself again.” 

Eren’s eyes flicker, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. You almost swear that you imagined it. 

“Do you think I’m different?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” 

You pale. 

“Do you hate me for it?” you ask. 

Eren shakes his head. 

“I like you better like this.” he whispers.

Eren reaches forward, tucking the loose hairs back behind your ear, before his warm fingers are secured around the nape of your neck. He does it a second time, looks at your lips, and this time you swear the corners of his mouth are twitching too. 

“You weren’t very confident when I met you, almost like you didn’t think you were cut out to do this. Unsure of why you even had a place in the room. Then you went so far away from me, worked yourself so hard, that I barely remember you even smiling at any of us anymore. You were angry, then you were heartbroken, and apparently you broke a lot of plates when you weren’t with any of us?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m going to kill Falco.” 

“Colt.” Eren corrects. 

You scoff. 

“No way. Eren, he kind of hates you.” 

“Kind of? Colt was ready to punch me in the face when he first got to set. Rightfully so.” Eren responds. 

“It’s actually not rightfully so. He didn’t even know what you did.” you state. 

Eren pauses. 

“I know. He got here and asked me first thing what it was I did to you. Then he wanted to punch me in the face when I told him.” 

You shrug. You can tell that Eren’s waiting for an explanation - green eyes looking at you expectantly as you give him a nod. 

“It felt wrong to talk to him about it. Falco knew you a little bit better, but even for him…they would just start bad mouthing you just to make me feel good. But that would just make me feel worse because…I don’t get it. Hating someone just because things went wrong.”  

You crack your knuckles. 

“It’s like Ricky. I can badmouth him. He was horrible. He’s a bad person and he literally left me out there to rot just to embarrass me. He did it to Lana, to Teddy. You…I just thought you didn’t like me. I couldn’t really fault you for how you felt. And I loved you. I don't get off on talking shit about you when you were my entire world.” 

Eren smiles. 

“You had every right to badmouth me.” 

“But that’s the thing. I just didn’t want to. Even if things ended badly, you still made me really happy. We still did this entire thing together and-” 

“We’ll finish it together.” 

You smile, giving him a nod.

“You know when you’re in a relationship and you feel like you get to see a different side of that person? Because you’re so close?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.” 

“That’s how you came back to us. Feeling close again. A fresh slate, back to what drew us all to you in the first place. So many things in this industry, in this job are so fake. I mean our job is to literally pretend. You are an overwhelmingly genuine person. Even more so now. You are different. We’re all going to love you for it.” Eren states. 

For someone who’s so convinced he’s horrible with words, Eren always seems to have the perfect ones for you. 

“Will you leave if things go south?” you ask. 

“No.” 

“Then we can do this. I’m positive.” you state. 

“What makes you so sure?” 

You squeeze Eren's hand three times.

“I don’t have anything to lose, Eren.” 

--

When you get back to set the following morning, you don’t miss Connie very loudly whispering with Eren behind you. You’re positive Jean and Mikasa are eavesdropping just as much as you are, their eyes fixed a little too hard waiting for Eren’s response. 

Did you guys kiss?

No, Connie, am I crazy?  

It makes your heart sink a little bit, but you ignore it as Eren comes up at your side, giving you a bright smile. He reaches for the little glass jar to your left and gives you a wink before he calls for everyone’s attention. 

“First things first, Falco. Good job on press. That was one of the funniest fucking interviews I’ve seen in my life.” 

Falco laughs, as you turn your head to the side, pretending to do a little bow as everyone pats him on the back, and you look at Mikasa. 

“What did I miss?” 

Mikasa smiles, pulling up the video at your side. 

“Levi’s direction was to not answer any questions about you. Naturally, that was all they asked about so we all decided to coordinate our answers and basically say that we didn’t know you.” Mikasa states. 

“What?” 

“It sounds stupid, but it was so funny. Some of them started actually believing it. And Falco took it so far, he started pretending like he wasn’t even related to you.” 

Mikasa hands you the phone as you play the video, barely containing your laughter at how stupid the video is. Falco’s so confident in his words, so self-assured that it’s making Gabi burst out into laughter, and obviously messes with the interviewer so bad that they can’t even continue. 

It makes you happier than it should - their first experience being so overwhelmingly positive.

“And we all wore ribbons in our hair, which didn’t help matters anyway.” Mikasa states. 

“Levi’s a menace. He’s milking this so much.” you state. 

“That was actually my idea.” 

“Oh. I didn’t mean-” 

“I know. I just want you coming back to be a big deal. It’s not an easy thing for you to do. You’re going to get every bit of hype for it.” 

You smile, reaching forward to link arms with her, as Eren makes a booing sound. 

“Are you done? Can I talk now?” 

You shove Eren. 

“Stop being rude.” 

“I’m not being rude. You guys interrupted me.” 

“Why were you talking before us? That’s so inconsiderate of you.” Mikasa states. 

You laugh as Eren rolls his eyes, handing each of them a tiny white slip and a marker, before he takes his spot next to you and gives you a big smile. 

“Y/N is going to write a song. Multiple actually. I want you to write down ideas for her and she’s going to pull one out every morning and read it to us. Then she has to play whatever she came up with, even if it was only one line, at the end of that day.” Eren states. 

“Eren.” you start.

“No buts. You guys know the drill.” 

You watch as everyone follows his instructions, excitedly whispering to each other as their pens move, and you look over at Eren. He drops his own slip into the cup, the first one, with his name neatly looped on the outside as he gives you a smile. 

“I’m not going to be able to write anything.” you state. 

“Well, you heard the rules. You’ll have to write something.” 

“Eren.” 

He shakes his head, handing you his journal, opening it to the marked page as you flip through the sheets. 

“I did this a while back, when I was getting back into it. It helps a lot more than you think. And you can ask the person who gave you the slip for help if you really need it, but that person only.” 

You take the book for him, watching everyone give you excited smiles as the cup fills up just as fast, and flip though the pages. 

“write a song about me and sukuna” And underneath, the lyrics to a song called Daylight. 

“write a song about connie’s one year anniversary of being sober” with Levi’s distinct handwriting and the lyrics to a song called Forever Winter scribbled messily on the page. 

And the last one makes your throat bob in your chest. 

“write a song about y/n”

You read over the lyrics, pressing your fingers against the ink, as you fervently read the lyrics. 

We didn't know that we had it all But nobody warns you before the fall Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call

I'm facing the greatest The greatest loss of them all The culture is lit and I had a ball I guess I'm signing off after all

You look up at him, his attention drawn away as he shuffles the cup in his hand to mix up the slips and then holds the cup out to you. Everyone’s watching, waiting for you to pull a piece, as you set the book down, and give them all a meek nod. 

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, and an obscene amount of screaming from Connie and Sasha, as you close your eyes and pull out the first paper. You open up the little slip, floored by how random the request is. 

“Write a song about upstaging someone's wedding. Connie.” you state. 

A resounding smack fills the room - as you look over to find Jean hitting Connie. 

“I told you not to put that in.” Jean yells.

“What? It’s funny! Eren said random stuff helps with this.” Connie defends. 

“Dumbass. You just had to write something about ruining a wedding?” Jean grates. 

“Who the fuck said it was about you, you egomaniac?” Sasha asks, reaching forward to flick his forehead. 

“Who else is getting married, dumbass?” Jean responds. 

“Why are you so mad? You’re clearly projecting your own personal issues.” Connie states, as Jean and Sasha follow him out of the room, their shouts filling up the quiet air. 

Eren turns to you, a bright smile on his face. You want to smack him.

“I’ll see you tonight. Fully written song and all.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as he walks past. 

You groan, leaning your head on Mikasa’s shoulder, as you hand her the little slip. 

“Eren’s so fucking annoying sometimes. How am I supposed to write a song about this?” you complain. 

“You’ll think of something. You’re amazing.” Mikasa states. 

“I um…actually got you something. And I had something I wanted to ask.” 

You took Sukuna’s words seriously. And had every intention to make amends. 

“Really?” she asks. 

“Yeah. It’s a keychain.”

You pull it out, the little penguin charm hanging off the end, as she takes it into her hands. It makes your heart swell - the way she carefully turns it over in her fingers, the excited smile on her face. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N.” 

“It’s kind of stupid but…it’s blue? Like something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you state. 

Mikasa’s smile gets wider, her shoulders relaxing as she reaches forward to give you a hug. 

“Thank you. I love it.” 

“It’s just a penguin.” you murmur. 

“Maybe to someone else. But I haven’t forgotten that we watched Happy Feet at midnight the day we were supposed to film the Colossal Titan reveal and almost missed shooting that day.” she states. 

You can barely contain your elation this time. That Mikasa remembers the memory just as well as you do. You both laugh for a second before you muster the courage to ask. 

“Listen. I want to ask something but I don’t want to overstep so know that you can say no.” you state. 

“Okay.” 

“I know that we have our own rooms, but I wanted to ask if you wanted to share again? Colt and Porco always snore and…and you have your entire life to share a room with Jean but only a few more months to share one with me?” you mumble, voice nearly shaking. 

Mikasa brings her hands to your shoulders, squeezing hard as she can barely contain your smile. 

“Really? You really want to share with me?” she asks. 

“Are you crazy? You’re like the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

“Bullshit.” 

“No, really. Falco kicks, Colt smells, Porco snores, and Eren’s nothing compared to you. You're like a princess compared to them.” 

Mikasa smiles. 

“Deal. Lets go switch the signs - to their rightful places - right now.” 

“What if Jean disagrees?” you ask. 

Mikasa rolls her eyes. 

“He can choke for all I care.” Mikasa states, linking her arm in with yours as you both pound up the stairs right to the hallway. 

You take the marker, scribbling out Mikasa and Jean’s names (and Connie’s comments underneath) as you hand her the marker to do the honors. You both admire the little sign together, arms wrapped around each other, as Eren, Connie, and Jean join you two. 

“What the fuck?” Jean asks. 

You smile at him. 

“Sorry. Not your room anymore.” you respond. 

“One could argue that it was never really yours in the first place, Jean.” Mikasa states. 

“Dude, you guys are so annoying.” Jean states. 

“Did you just call your fiance, dude?” Eren asks, earning him a shove from Jean. 

Connie comes up at Mikasa’s side, taking the marker from her hands, and adding his signature comment to finish off the new sign. You look over at him and smile, tugging him into your hug with Mikasa - as you all admire the door. 

Y/N-MIKA FOREVER!!! 

And underneath, Connie’s lopsided handwriting: 

WE’RE SOOO FUCKING BACK

--

You understand why everyone was crowding you and Eren when they thought you were going to kiss in season two. It’s because you got to set early to make sure you got a good seat for Falco and Gabi’s love confession - so excited that you could barely eat your lunch.

You can’t help but watch them a few feet away from you, nervously kicking their legs on their chairs, as your notebook lays forgotten in front of you.

There’s a group of shitty lyrics on the page, so embarrassing that you shut the page as Eren approaches and takes the seat next to you and Mikasa. 

“I wasn’t going to read them, silly goose.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as you tuck the book under your ankles. 

“Good. I’d kill you before you tried.” 

“Wow. Standing up weddings has you that mad?” 

“The opposite actually.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes as he scooches closer to you, halfheartedly shaking Levi’s hand as he passes. You look over to Falco and Gabi again - the two of them increasingly nervous, Gabi more so for some reason, as you lean over and whisper into Eren's ear.  

“Ten bucks this pushes their real love confession ten years into the future.” you state.  

“What?” 

“Think about it. We had to kiss and it pushed things back basically a year and a half because we got all flustered and confused. Falco’s doing a whole bit, they’re going to be nervous about this for years.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes, reaching forward to elbow you in the side. 

“Bullshit.” 

“I’m right! The same thing happened with Hange and Levi.” you defends. 

“Rookie mistake, Y/N. Do I know your little brother better than you? He’s not half as pussy as you or Levi.” 

“Touché, asshole. If he likes her so bad, why hasn’t he said it yet?” you respond. 

“He’s a romantic. He’s waiting for the right time.” Eren responds. 

You look over at the two of them, splitting a box of Tic-Tacs, as Levi walks back to his cues and sets up the cameras. 

“Think about it. In a relationship, you’re either a Hange or a Levi. You’re either a Jean or a Mikasa. Falco’s obviously more like Mikasa and Levi. And Gabi’s like Jean and Hange. She has to make the move.” 

“You’ve got it all wrong. Gabi’s the Levi and Falco’s the Hange.” Eren responds, nearly offended at your statement. 

“Are you an idiot?” 

“Watch. I’ll prove it to you.” 

Eren pushes up off the floor, dragging Niccolo along with him, as they two of them approach Gabi and Falco. You’re not sure what they’re whispering - but you can tell that Falco and Gabi are flustered by the premise - and Eren and Niccolo are far too elated as Eren walks back over to you, this time with Niccolo in tow. 

“Hi Nico.” 

“Hi Y/N.” 

You look over at Eren, glaring at him, as he gives you a sheepish shrug. 

“Okay, guys. We’re going to start rolling. Falco, Gabi, you ready?” 

“Yeah.” they respond in unison, giving each other a little fist bump as they take their seats on the floor. 

“Was no one going to ask me? I’m in this scene too.” Colt complains, earning a fit of laughter from the crew. 

Everyone quiets down as the lights dim on the set, the group of you hunching forward, trying to contain your smiles as you look at each other. It’s only then that you’re reminded of how good Falco and Gabi are at acting, the painstaking agony in their voice almost making you shiver. 

“I helped make the attack on Liberio happen. I met a wounded soldier at that hospital, and without knowing it was Eren Jaeger, I sent letters from him to his allies using the mailboxes outside the zone.” Falco starts. 

Mikasa leans over to look at Eren, mouthing the words “fucking bastard” as you try to contain your laughs. Levi gives the four of you a warning glance, as you muster out an apologetic smile. 

“A lot of people died in Liberio. So….it’s my fault that Udo and Zofia died.” Falco finishes. 

“I see…” Gabi responds. 

Falco swallows hard, a pink blush on his cheeks, as you all excitedly smile. 

“Also, I love you. I didn’t want you to inherit the Armored Titan. That’s why I became a warrior candidate. So…so that we could get married…and be happy forever.” 

Gabi’s as red as a tomato. You almost feel bad for teasing the two of them so hard but it’s so endearing it makes your heart squeeze. 

“I wanted you to live a long life!” Falco shouts. 

“What are you saying?” Gabi responds. 

“I might turn into a Titan at any moment. I just wanted to get it all out there before I’m gone for good.” 

It's silent - leave for Gabi's tears before she quickly stands up. You watch as Gabi aggressively wrestles with Falco, pulling off the little black band secured around his waist, before she throws it on the ground, her chest heaving.

You sincerely hope Levi campaigns for them to win an award for this one. 

Levi calls cut, as Hange runs up to the two of them, excitedly cheering them both on as they avert their gaze from each other. Eren’s quick to jump up, grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you up to the group of them, a devious smirk on his face. 

Niccolo’s quick to join his side, the two of them crossing their arms over their chest and smirking at Falco, as he sighs. 

“Really, guys?” Falco asks.

“Really. You agreed to it, little dude.” Eren states. 

Falco rolls his eyes, nervously eyeing Gabi - who is excitedly jumping up and down in front of a very unamused Levi - before he walks over to her and plants a big kiss on her cheek. The group of you all gasp, Gabi’s skin burning red, as Falco runs away, claiming he needs to go to the bathroom. 

Niccolo and Eren are fist bumping at your side and Eren’s turns to you, irritatingly positioned with his hands on his hips, as he smiles at you. 

“Told you so.” Eren states.

“What the hell did that prove?” 

“It’s simple. I asked Falco if he wanted to play a game of Truth or Dare. Then, I asked him to kiss his favorite person on the cast on the cheek after the scene was over. Told him to run right up to you and do it since I knew for a fact you’re his favorite.” 

“Eren, you little-” 

“Falco is most definitely the Hange or the Jean of the relationship. Would even go as far to argue that he might even be the boldest.” Eren states. 

You groan, the two of you walking past Gabi and Falco near the snack table, a sizable distance away from each other and nearly sweating in the presence of each other. You and Eren shoot them a thumbs up, and Eren continues to gloat all the way back to the house. 

--

At the end of the workday, Eren’s gathered everyone in the main room in a big crowd, doing nothing to help your nerves, as you give them all a smile and loop the guitar strap over your shoulder and sit on the bench. 

“Okay. Repeat the request, Y/N.” Eren guides, the group of them all giving you warm smiles. 

Mikasa and Sasha blow you a kiss, Porco and Connie with overenthusiastic thumbs up, and Eren’s smile pushing you on. 

“Right. The request was ‘write a song about standing up a wedding’ and it was from Connie.” you state. 

You swallow hard as you shut the book and place it under the bench and start strumming on the guitar to warm up. 

“Be nice to me guys. I called this one Speak Now.” 

I am not the kind of girl Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion But you are not the kind of boy Who should be marrying the wrong girl

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, Connie and Mikasa clapping along with the sound as everyone else follows suit. You can feel your head pounding, your voice slightly shaking as you continue on and the guitar strings uncomfortably burning your fingers. 

I sneak in and see your friends And her snotty little family all dressed in pastel And she is yelling at a bridesmaid Somewhere back inside a room Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry 

Mikasa scoffs. 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Everyone laughs, including you, as you shake your head and blow her a kiss before continuing. She makes the little gesture at you - like she’s catching the kiss in the air and tucking it into her pocket. You can feel Jean rolling his eyes at your side. 

Don't say yes, run away now I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door Don't wait, or say a single vow You need to hear me out And they said, "Speak now"

The rest of the song goes relatively smoothly, the excitement from the group of them making your heart soar, that block in your throat dissolve.

Sasha’s trapped Niccolo in her arms and has been aggressively swinging him around for the past minute, Porco and Gabi locking their fingers together to do a little swing dance, and Hange, Armin, and Eren bobbing their heads in unison at the side. 

The group of them all give you a deafening sound of applause when you finish, aggressive hugs and kisses being placed on your cheeks as they all applaud you - claiming your brilliance - as you feel your cheeks burn with excitement. 

Eren’s the last one to approach you, an almost too satisfied with himself smile on his face for the second time today, as you give him your most peachy smile. 

“Like it?” you ask.

“Loved it. You’ve still got it.” Eren states. 

“You know it.” 

“Can I give you one note?” Eren asks.

“Please.” 

“The last verse. You have to change it.” 

“What? Why?” you ask. 

“It’s a good repeat. But I’m more curious…did the guy from the song leave the altar for her?” 

You nod, giving him a smile, as you reach for the book, and gesture for him to sit next to you on the bench. You quickly jumble the lyrics onto the page, nearly misspelling half of the words, before you hand it to him for inspection. 

And you'll say, "Let's run away now" I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door Baby, I didn't say my vows So glad you were around When they said, "Speak now"

"Always a sucker for a happy ending. It's perfect." Eren states.

He gives you a glimmering smile, making your heart skip a beat as his hand brushes against yours. Eren pulls out the little slip from earlier today, taping it right above the lyrics.

He gives you a last pinch of the cheek before pushing off the bench, leaving your entire body burning at his praise. 

“That’s my girl. I didn’t doubt you for even a second.”

You pause.

"Eren?"

He turns back, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

"Ask me who my favorite person on set is."

"What?"

"Ask me."

"Why would I-"

"Can you just do it?"

Eren turns back, hands at his side.

"Who's your favorite person on set?" Eren asks.

You walk up to his side, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. You hope that he understands - that you're overwhelmingly thankful for him. For the documentary, the days in Seattle, and the lifeline he always throws you. That you'll always be indebted to him.

"It's you." you whisper.

Eren's cheeks are pink.

"Is that right?" Eren asks, the tone in his voice teasing.

"Don't push your luck." you state.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Eren responds, as he gives you one last cheek pinch before leaving you alone with the piano.

Singing the song, strumming the guitar - it's almost like stretching an old muscle, flexing out the soreness. You're so excited that you reach for the cup on top of the piano to start writing the next one right away. But when your read the slip, you feel your mouth go dry.

you love someone with your entire being, and all they do is tolerate it

And at the bottom, a name scribbled in messy handwriting

Jean.

--

--

next part linked here

an: OK GUYS. WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME NOW!!! sorry its kind of boring but we die like men

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejgg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-morii @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv @cowgirlikets @dreamxiing @mamamammarga @tangerine-neonlight

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Last Meal

Crowley x GN!Reader (AFAB anatomy)

18 Plus ONLY / Requests are OPEN

Summary: Crowley really, really, likes to eat you out.

CW: smut, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, light praise, overstim, oral sex

Gomens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Overstimulation is poking at your nerves like a tingling, hot iron. You’ve cum three times already, and Crowley is desperate to get you a fourth, or maybe even a fifth- if you didn’t just give out before that point. 

The first time had been soft and loving, his tongue laving over your clit and fingers buried deep inside your sopping cunt until you fell apart over him. You’d been stressed out, what with all of the nonsense happening at work and with the fact that the world had almost descended into chaos. It was no wonder you were stressed. Good thing Crowley knew a thing or two about how to distract you.

He’d brought you into his office, sat you down on the desk and him in his chair, and pushed your legs open to take a load off of that stress for you, so to speak. Soft circles brushed into your thigh and little breaths of cold air on your clit to make you needy. He didn’t keep you waiting long before he was tracing blasphemous prayers into your clit. 

You came like that once, and after that, he’d added another finger and held you down by the tummy to wring another orgasm out of you- you whined and jerked against his hold as he talked you through it. Telling you how good you were, and how much he loved to see you come apart for him. All for him. 

You’d came hard and fast, gasping and arching your back off the desk. He’d given you one of those signature grins and pressed kisses down your tummy, down your hip and towards the inside of your thighs, forcing you to open them up for him. 

The third time he’d made you cum took a little longer, the overstimulation taking longer to get over. You were gasping and writhing on the desk as he wrapped his lips over your clit and sucked it into his mouth, split tongue flicking hard and fast against your sensitive bundle of nerves. He didn’t let up until you cried out in pleasure and yanked hard at his hair, keeping him there in that spot as you rode his face and worked yourself through your bordering-on-painful orgasm.

And now he had his tongue buried inside you, long and flexible, licking at your walls and shooting pleasure up your spine. 

“Fuck, Crowley- I- I don’t think I can,” you cry, trying your best to squirm away from his tongue.

He chuckles and pulls you closer by the hips, practically mashing his nose into your clit. You mewl, arching away. Of course, this only proved to bump his nose against you again. 

His tongue starts moving inside you as if possessed, Crowley trying to stick the forked appendage inside you as far as possible. He eats you as if it’s his last meal on Earth, and he brings a thumb down over your hip to rub back and forth over your clit without mercy. 

You cry out louder this time, unable to contain the noises that were escaping you as he forced you closer and closer to that edge. Fuck, you might actually be able to cum again. No, scratch that, you were definitely going to cum again. 

“F-fuck, Crowley, I- nngh, oh-” 

Hips wriggle on the desk, slick and spit trailing down your folds to stain the table. You pant and moan as he works you like a master pianist- knowing exactly which keys to tap to wring out the most divine music from you.

You manage to lean yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at Crowley, and that’s what pushes you over the edge. Those yellow-slitted eyes looking up at you so hungrily, so unabashedly. He looks ravenous, feasting at you like if he doesn’t make you cum right now he might simply pass away. 

Waves of pleasure take you all at once, roiling inside like crashing waves in a storm. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that your head hits the desk again with a soft thud. You’re also vaguely aware of the way your entire body is convulsing with the pleasure of your fourth orgasm. 

He works you through it, tongue raking every single modicum of pleasure from you. The stimulation grows to be too much, and you press your foot to his shoulder to force him off you. 

He chuckles deeply, pussy drunk on the taste of your spend. He nuzzles against your thigh, trailing a finger down your slit and revelling in the whimper it draws from you. 

He giggles- actually giggles- and gives your thigh a light slap.

“Mmn,” he says, licking his lips. “Always so good for me.” 

“Always,” you pant back with a giggle.

[vhstown]

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

[luvsturniolo]

ー ★ !! inebriated

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after being dragged to a party by his brothers, chris finds himself stumbling into a very drunk girl — who looks like she's on the verge of either puking or sobbing. he can't tell which.

a/n : i haven't touched my keyboard in literal months so i wrote this purely due to the fact that i needed to get back into this writing lore ! if this is super shitty & bad, i apologize. this is ur warning !!

also ! there will be underage drinking, so if that sort of thing bothers you in any way i advise that you click off of this rn and find another fic.

also x2 , this will be switching POVs a bit. i'll put their names above each scene tho, so it's not confusing.

wc : 8k

CHRIS

"i don't know if this is a good idea." chris says, warily, as he and his brothers trudge up the stairs toward the loud dorm room. they're all the way down the hall, and he can still hear every single lyric blaring from the speakers.

"oh, don't be a fucking wuss." nick rolls his eyes, gently nudging his brother in the side with his elbow. nick laughs a bit, but when he notices the genuine uneasiness displayed on his brother's face, he feels a twinge of guilt in his gut. "okay, fine. i have an idea."

chris looks up at nick with a deep furrow in his brow, "i hope your idea involves us going back to our own dorm for the rest of the night."

"well, not exactly." nick tells him. "how about matt and i go to the party, while you wait out here in the hall all night?"

chris lets out a loud groan, twisting to sit down on the staircase. what annoys chris isn't the fact that nick is so uncharacteristically persistent about attending this stupid party. it's the fact that he offered this idea as though he genuinely expected chris to sit out in the hallway for hours.

nick rolls his eyes at chris's childish behavior, leaning against the wall of the stairwell, seeming to have completely given up on trying to convince his brother to come along with him. he simply watches with an amused face as chris throw a tantrum.

matt — who has become incredibly sick of listening to his brothers' bickering the entire walk across campus — finally decides to butt into the conversation. he sits down on the stair beside chris, draping an arm over his shoulders. chris glances at matt out of the corner of his eye.

"i have an idea, too." matt tells him with a gentle tone. "wanna hear mine?"

for a moment, chris looks uncertain. but matt is so good at comforting people that he can't help but give in, agreeing to hear his idea as well. "fine." chris mutters.

"listen. you come to the party with us for twenty minutes." he says, making chris immediately let out a fatigued sigh. but matt quickly continues to explain. "if you're still wanting to leave by then, let me know and i'll take you back to our dorm without any questions. but if you end up having fun, you'll stay with us and give us both twenty bucks for having to listen to you whine the whole way here."

chris doesn't hesitate to agree to this deal. he shakes matt's hand to solidify the agreement and the three of them continue walking to the party.

there's no way in hell chris is going to enjoy this. the booming music paired with the stench of alcohol and weed is undoubtably going to give him a splitting head ache by the end of these twenty minutes.

YOU

parties aren't exactly your cup of tea, to put it lightly. you've only been to a few throughout your entire collage career, and you've never found yourself liking them. there's always far too many people in attendance for you to be able to relax or enjoy yourself. so, you've managed to avoid them thus far.

but you've had an incredibly rough day today, and you're pretty keen on the idea of being able to drink your pain away.

you've been friends with jasmin and elaine since you guys were in middle school. the three of you were inseparable for years, and everyone knew it. you were always closer with elaine than jasmin, simply because your guys' personalities merged better. as a trio, you guys spent every single weekend together since you were kids. your families all knew one another. you gossiped together about boys and drama and school. you confided in each other, and didn't spend a second apart.

however, that all ended today. you found elaine making out with your boyfriend in your guys' shared dorm room a few hours ago.

you had been dating kade for two years now, and you introduced him to your friends immediately when you guys met. you were excited to show them the wonderful boy you'd fallen for. they seemed to like him, and you guys became a quartet. you, elaine, jasmin, and kade. it was perfect. for two whole years. but it's all ruined now.

as soon as you walked in on elaine and kade in bed together, you called jasmin to tell her the news. she seemed just as shocked and betrayed as you were, and she rushed to your side instantly. you'd been in her dorm ever since, marinating in your own pitiful sorrow.

the thing is, you've been cheated on before. yes, it hurts ; it hurts like hell. but losing elaine hurts far more than losing your silly boyfriend. plus, kade had always been a bit of an asshole. elaine was the one who disapproved of him the most. the two of them always argued and made banter playfully. god. now you feel like such a fucking idiot for not realizing sooner.

"hey," jasmin says with the softest voice imaginable.

she opens the door to the dorm with a gentle creak, carrying in your favorite candies along with her. she trudges across the room before sitting on her bed — which you've made into your own. the mattress dips under her weight before she sets all the sweets down onto the duvet.

you sit up with a quiet word of thanks. ever since the incident, you've been tangled up in jasmin's blankets with a pillow pressed over your head to drown out the noise of a nearby party being thrown a few rooms down the hall.

"where'd you get all this?" you ask jasmin as you shuffle through the candies, finding the sweetest ones and unwrapping them joyfully.

"paxton is throwing a party for his birthday, and he let me take a few things." she explains, picking up a few for herself.

you can still hear the music blaring from down the hall, along with the sounds of muffled voices and laughter. you immediately wonder if kade and elaine are there together. kade is fairly popular, so he was most likely invited. and elaine loves parties, so she would have attended with him.

the thought of them together brings a certain ache to your stomach, making you want to lurch forward and vomit everywhere. you don't, of course, but you definitely consider it.

"i really fucking love you, jaz." you say.

you look at her with nothing by admiration behind your gaze. she holds the eye contact before smiling gently. she sets down her candies and pulls you into a tight hug. you return the embrace, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck.

"you deserve someone who treats you like the most wonderful person in the whole fucking world." she says against your hair. "because that's who you are."

"i don't feel like that, right now." you tell her, pulling out of the hug to gesture at your appearance. your hair is greasy tangled, your face is puffy from crying, your clothes are twisted, and you probably smell like shit.

"how about this," jasmin says with a mischievous grin spreading across her lips, "i'll lend you one of my most gorgeous dresses, and then we can go to paxton's party together. every single person there will stop and stare, including kade."

jasmin stands from the bed and grabs you by the hands, giggling as she pulls you to your feet. despite wanting nothing more than to go back to rotting uselessly in her bed, you can't help but laugh along with her.

"let's show him what he's missing out on." jasmin declares with a glow in her eyes, that makes you feel like you're in a cheesy disney movie. but you're honestly loving every second of it.

CHRIS

"how long has it been?" chris asks, leaning against the counter behind him. he looks up at matt, but realizes that his brother is no longer in front of him. chris groans audibly. he should have assumed that he wouldn't keep his end of the deal. there's no way matt could walk him home if chris doesn't know where he is.

"it's almost ten o'clock." a random guy says from beside chris. he looks over at him and smiles gratefully, hoping he doesn't look too awkward standing by himself. "this party is shit, don't you think?"

"for sure." chris agrees, quickly. "i don't even drink, so there's nothing for me to do other than watch everyone else get shit-faced. which isn't exactly how i want to spend my saturday night."

the guy just watches chris with an amused expression. the way he's staring makes chris feel a bit uncomfortable, but he refuses to show any sign of uneasiness.

"you're nick's brother, aren't you?" he asks suddenly.

the guy has sandy blonde hair and a face splattered with freckles. his eyes are dark brown, and a bit intimidating. he has high cheekbones and a grin that would make anyone tempted to smile along with him. the stranger takes a long sip out of his red solo cup as he waits for chris to respond, setting it down on the countertop behind him without breaking their eye contact.

"yeah, one of them." chris replies, finally. "i'm christopher."

"mm. full name, huh?" the guy hums with a bit of humor laced behind his tone. chris doesn't say anything, simply nodding as a reply. "i'm paxton. this is my party, i'm turning twenty."

chris's face drops. he instantly wants to take back everything he'd previously said. oh, he fucked up big time. he knows that nick only wanted to come to this party because of the major crush he has on paxton. and chris just insulted the shit out of his birthday party, then acted passive aggressive when giving him his full name as an introduction.

god, nick is gonna kill him.

"right, well i have to go." chris says, quickly exiting the kitchen with no idea where to go next. he should probably have stayed and apologized to paxton, but he was too scared of possibly fucking up even farther.

while aimlessly wandering around the crowded dorm, chris bumps into someone. he instantly apologizes, looking down at her with remorse. but his eyes quickly soften when he recognizes her.

"y/n?" he mutters, shocked to see you. especially at a party like this, knowing how much you usually dislike them with everything in you.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

YOU — fifteen minutes prior

"i don't even know what to do at a party." you complain as you examine at yourself in jasmin's mirror. she was right, you look stunning. but you don't look like you.

"we're not going to party." jasmin explains as though it's the simplest concept to understand. "we're going to make kade jealous, and then get super drunk so we're too hungover to face tonight's concequences in the morning."

she has to shout in order for you to hear her voice because she's in the bathroom, curling her hair. the bathroom door is cracked open, but yelling is still needed due to the party's music being louder than anything else.

you shrug even though she can't see you doing so. "well when you put it that way, it sounds like a lovely idea." you respond, also shouting.

"girl," jasmin says with an audible laugh, "all my ideas are lovely."

with that, she exits the bathroom. her dress is shiny and gold, contrasting beautifully against her dark skin. you watch through the mirror as she approaches you, her reflection standing directly behind your own as she begins to put on two chunky, gold earrings.

you're wearing a dress that's a bit shorter than you'd like, but jasmin claims that it's the longest one she owns. you keep pulling it down subconsciously, but it's riding up your thighs annoyingly. you're wearing shorts underneath, of course, because they make you feel less exposed by the lack of length the dress provides. jasmin also lent you a necklace, a few bracelets, and a pair of earrings to wear. the jewelry is all dainty and more jasmin's style than yours, but you couldn't deny how fucking gorgeous you looked.

"let's go!" jasmin says with a giddy smile, grabbing your hand as she pulls you toward the door. you laugh with your last remaining true friend, allowing her to drag you down toward the party. your guys' heels click against the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound making you laugh even harder.

jasmin doesn't even bother knocking on the door. the way you guys enter paxton's dorm unannounced makes you feel strange, until you're actually inside and realize that the arrival of two people means nothing in comparison to the amount of guests that are piled into the space.

for the first few minutes, you and jasmin walk around together, exploring. you've had a few drinks, but you're hardly feeling anything yet. you end up leaving jasmin when she starts flirting with a random girl on the dance floor, and you feel invasive to linger around with her.

now on your own, you head toward the kitchen for another drink seeing as you just finished your last one. it's kind of comforting to be in the kitchen because there aren't as many people crowding around you. it's easier to breathe on your own.

you find a cooler on the floor, wide open with ice overflowing the rim. wedged inside the ice are various alcoholic beverages to choose from. you think for a moment before bending to grab a jack daniels, deciding on something sweet rather than bitter. when you stand back up, you notice someone standing to your left. you nearly drop the drink in shock.

"god," you mutter with an airy laugh as you turn to face the person. but all traces of humor leave your face when you recognize the presumed stranger.

elaine's hair is beautifully curled, framing her pale face with elegance that makes you suddenly feel like your hair isn't done well enough. her icy blue eyes stare down at you with an expression you can't read — which pisses you off because you used to be able to read all of her emotions perfectly. but now it's like she's a complete stranger.

now feeling insecure in your own skin, you pull the hem of your dress down. elaine doesn't seem to notice, nor does she care how you feel at the moment.

"what?" you demand, clutching the bottle in your hand to ground yourself. "did you come in here just to stare at me, or what?"

"don't flatter yourself." she says bluntly, a tone she's never directed at you before. in all the years you'd known her, you guys have never gotten into a genuine argument. so it's incredibly weird to see her in this new light. "i came for a drink. and you're standing in front of the cooler."

you turn and notice that she's right. you're blocking her from reaching the cooler. you instantly feel embarrassed, but you're quick to hide it by crossing your arms and stepping to the side so she can get to the cooler.

you watch as she reaches for the strongest drink that's offered. typical. she wouldn't be elaine without being unapologetically herself.

"you might not have anything to say to me, but i have a lot i'd like to say to you." you tell her, keeping your voice level despite the way your hands tremble against your crossed arms.

"it can wait." she says, turning on her heel and exiting the kitchen without another word, her ash blonde hair swishing behind her with superiority.

"what the fuck?" you murmur, now alone in the kitchen.

your senses are suddenly overflowing with blinding rage. after years of being best friends, she sleeps with your boyfriend. and yet, she's the one avoiding you? there's no fucking way anything about this situation is logical. you're the one who's pissed, not her. she has no right to have walked away from you like that. you deserve an explanation. or at least a viable conversation.

you screw open your bottle and take a swig of the drink, deciding that you're going to need a whole lot more of this before your anger cools down enough for you to leave the kitchen. because if you were to leave now, you wouldn't trust yourself not to immediately go to elaine and start a fight that you're not sure you'd even win.

after about ten minutes of standing by the cooler, drinking away your anger, you decide to finally exit the kitchen. you leave the room, stumbling a bit as you do so. but you quickly turn back around, realizing that you left your phone on the countertop.

as you walk back into the kitchen, you bump into someone who's walking out of it. he quickly apologizes, seeming to be in quite a hurry. you decide not to look up at him, now being annoyed that someone even bumped into you. god, maybe drinking was a bad idea. now everything pisses you off, not just elaine and kade.

"y/n?" the guy mutters, sounding insanely shocked. you raise a brow before looking up to meet the man's eyes. you instantly begin smiling at the guy.

"holy fuck." you reply, your voice slurred and intoxicated. "christopher owen."

CHRIS

chris hasn't seen you since senior year of high school. and considering the fact that you guys are now in college, it has been quite a while since you've seen each other.

you guys weren't necessarily friends back then, but you knew one another well enough. you guys had math together for two years straight. you sat side-by-side, talking every day through the entire period. by the end of the year, chris had developed a crush on you, and you were completely oblivious to his feelings.

he had introduced you to his brothers and you'd hung out outside of school a few times. you spent the night at his house once or twice, when your home life wasn't the greatest. he had come over to yours a few times to study for upcoming tests.

you's met his parents, and mary lou absolutely adored you. she told you stories about her sons, including each of their middle names. following this encounter, you had begun calling chris by his full name — christopher owen. at first, you did it because you noticed how it annoyed him. but then, the name stuck. it became an inside joke between you and him, depicting a sense of intimacy in knowing his middle name. even more so since it was given to you from his mother herself.

but after graduation, you guys lost contact and haven't spoken since.

however, seeing you in front of him now, chris really wishes he had made more of an effort to stay in touch with you. you're just as gorgeous as he'd remembered, if not more so than before. your dress was incredibly flattering, and your hair was done up perfectly.

upon seeing you, he completely forgot everything that was previously plaguing his mind. he couldn't even form a sentence, leaving the two of you staring at each other wordlessly. he took on your appearance once more, suddenly coming to realize something about you.

"you're drunk, aren't you?" he says, not knowing whether or not to be surprised. on one hand, it's a college party and everyone is drunk. but on the other hand, you're you.

you were the most perfect girl he'd ever met, unaware that you were capable of having a single flaw. but as he looks at you now, completely plastered, he realizes that it's impossible for anyone to be flawless. even you. plus, there's something incredibly domestic, and human about seeing you like this. like it's illegal, like something is wrong.

"i think everyone's drunk, except you and your brothers." you tell him with a crooked grin that makes his heart begin to beat at an unhealthy speed. "plus, i deserve to drink after the day i've had."

it sounds like you're telling yourself that last bit more than you're telling it to chris. as though you're not even sure you believe it. he wants to question you, and ask what's wrong. but he decides not to. that'd be weird, wouldn't it? i mean, you guys haven't spoken in years.

"anyway," you say as your body sways from side to side, "i left my phone in the kitchen and i need to get it back before someone steals it. or even worse, before elaine steals it."

chris raises a brow at your odd behavior, but again decides not to point it out. you continue talking as if you can't help yourself. as if there's no off switch, keeping you from spilling too much. and even though you've begun to talk about random shit that means nothing, chris is listening to every single word intently.

"...but yeah, i think all alcohol should have screw on tops." you ramble, mindlessly. "if we could all simply unscrew the bottles without a problem, we wouldn't have to waste money on those shitty bottle openers. but- well, i mean, maybe that's the point. oh my god! maybe that's the reason they're made! so they can make even more money off the openers! even though we don't need to use them, and they don't need the money. it's still a profitable arrangement that they're more well off having created. oh, and-"

you keep talking and talking. and chris keeps listening and listening. the way you gesture around with your hands makes him happy, because you used to do the same thing back in high school. and the way your voice gets higher when you come to a realization is also a habit you've always had.

in the middle of your ranting, nick comes up to chris frantically. he doesn't seen to notice you as he steals chris's attention away.

"have you seen paxton?" nick asks his brother with an extremely worried expression on his face. "we were talking, and it was going good. great even. but then he left to grab a drink, and he hasn't come back. i'm scared i did something wrong to scare him away. it was going so well."

remembering his previous conversation with paxton, chris immediately is filled with guilt. nick looks so terrified of the fact that he fucked this up, not knowing chris is the one who ruined his chances.

"i saw him in the kitchen a little bit ago, but it's been a while." chris says. he's technically not lying. he did see paxton. he's simply leaving out a few details. sure, they're pretty significant details, but it doesn't hurt nick to not know. in fact, it probably would be worse if he did. he's helping them all, honestly.

"thanks," nick says hurriedly before patting chris on the shoulder and rushing into the kitchen behind them.

with nick gone, chris refocuses his attention on you. but he's taken by surprise when he sees that you're no longer in front of him. chris looks around, spinning in circles idiotically. but it's like you fucking vanished out of thin air.

YOU

you've missed nick. you haven't seen him in years. but judging by the anxiety-filled body language, you deemed that this was a brotherly conversation. quickly feeling out of place, you decided to take your leave and return to the search of your phone. but when you reach the counter it had perviously been abandoned at, you see that it's no longer there.

"there you are!" you hear someone say from behind you. the sickeningly familiar voice draws chills down your spine. even drunk, you could recognize kade's voice without having to turn around to see his face. hesitantly, you do turn around. kade is standing by the cooler, your phone held tightly in his hands.

"oh, you found it." you say casually, stepping over to your ex with an amount of false confidence that shocks even you. "i've been looking for my phone everywhere, thank you for returning it for me!"

kade clearly is taken aback by your nonchalance, making you feel extremely good about yourself. but when you reach to take your phone from him, kade holds it above his head. when you guys were dating, his height was endearing. you loved how much taller he was compared to you. but right now, it's really pissing you off.

"see, i was going to give it back." kade says, lowering the phone so it's now in front of his face. he begins to type in your password — which you haven't yet changed seeing as it all only happened this morning. "but i changed my mind."

"you're not fucking funny." you tell him. your voice comes out more emotional than you would have preferred, because now kade knows exactly how annoyed you are.

"hm," he hums, scrolling through your phone as though it were his own. "i think it is funny, to be honest. i mean, you should be thanking me. who knows who else could have found it? you wouldn't have wanted it to get in the wrong hands, would you?"

"it's too late for that." you say. "you're the worst hands for it to be in."

he laughs, audibly, at that. the sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you want nothing more than to punch him in the fucking jaw.

it's so weird that your feelings could change so fast. this morning, you woke up and texted kade with enthusiasm. you guys kissed and cuddled so normally. similarly, you were hanging out with elaine at lunch today perfectly fine. but here you are now, with nothing but hatred for both of them.

"i saw you talking to that triplet guy," kade says, "i always get them mixed up. was that chris or matt? i think nick is the gay one. or is it chris who's gay? god. i can never keep them straight."

"why do you give a shit who i talk to?" you ask him, crossing your arms defiantly as kade continues to snoop through your phone with a straight face. "at least i didn't fuck your best friend while we were together."

this gets his attention.

"you know nothing about our relationship." kade tells you, an edge to his voice that would have scared you if you weren't so blinded by your anger. you watch as he tuts before turning off your phone and stuffing it into his back pocket.

"oh, so it's a relationship now?" you ask. if you weren't so drunk, you would have had the common sense to shut up and stop teasing. but your only goal at the moment is to get as far under his skin as possible. you want him to feel all the pain you felt this morning. "i thought you guys were just fuck buddies."

"i've known elaine longer than i've known you." kade snaps, taking a step closer to you. you back away, being forced to press yourself against the corner of the counter behind you. "she's the one who introduced us in the first place, you dumb fuck."

"yeah, and i'm eternally grateful for that." you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes with a light scoff.

"elaine has been my friend since middle school. we've been near door neighbors our entire lives." kade tells you, as though you weren't already made painfully aware of their intimate history together. "she means more to me than just sex."

again, anybody else would have been able to read the room by now. they would have stopped poking the bear and decided enough is enough. but you're far too inebriated for something so logical. so you continue to dig a deeper and deeper hole.

"yeah?" you question, tilting your head innocently. "you might want to make sure those feelings are requited. i saw her making out with ryan hart earlier."

you watch as kade's jaw ticks with irritation. the sight of him getting so worked up fills you with an inexplicable pleasure. you've been crying all morning over two people who betrayed you. and after arriving at the party, it's seemed like they don't even care about your pain. so yes, seeing kade get pissed off is extremely satisfying. and yes, you should have stopped there. but no, you didn't.

"she might mean the world to you, kade. but to her? you're just another quick fuck that she'll pretend never even happened come tomorrow."

this seems to have crossed a line.

before you even have time to register what's happening, you're scrambling to your feet with blood dripping from your nose. kade punched you square in the face.

now collecting yourself, you look up at kade with a scowl. but he's not there to meet you eyes. honestly, he's got it worse than you. he's currently on the floor, getting the shit beat out of him by none other than christopher owen.

chris must have seen what happened and decided to step in after you got hit.

and as immature as it sounds, you don't care stop him. you simply watch as chris tackles kade to the ground and punches him repeatedly. people are shouting at him to stop, but chris doesn't care. and nor do you. kade deserves this.

you suddenly hear someone yell your name from somewhere else in the kitchen. you look up and see matt. your guys' eyes meet, and he gives you a look that makes you feel guilty for not stopping the fight earlier.

"tell him to stop." he says wordlessly. "he'll only listen to you."

with a sigh, you end the fight with one single word. you say chris's name, and his entire body stops in an instant. it's as if you flicked a switch. he stands up, knuckles bloody, and turns to face you as the kitchen falls silent.

something you've come to like about college is the fact that people know to mind their business. they crowd around for the fight, sure. but as soon as the show is over, they leave as though nothing happened.

chris steps closer, so he's only an inch away from you now. he reaches around and pulls your dress up. you instinctively go to shove him away, but before you have the chance, he slides something into your back pocket, your guys's noses nearly touching as he does so. you feel the familiar weight of your phone in the pocket of your shorts before chris tugs your dress back down to cover them up.

"are you okay?" he asks, so quietly you nearly don't hear him.

you stare up at him, speechless. then, you glance down at his hands and decide to make a joke in order to ease some of the tension. "seems like your knuckles are in worse shape than my nose."

"you should see the other guy." chris says with a chuckle.

you crane your neck to look behind him. but kade is already gone. you're a bit disappointed that you weren't able to see the damage chris did, but you're sure everyone will be talking about it on monday when classes resume.

"let me do you a favor." you tell him, grabbing his bloody hand and holding it in both of yours. "since you did me one."

CHRIS

your favor wasn't what chris expected. when you took hold of his hand and pulled him upstairs, he thought you were going to kiss him or something. but you had other ideas — which he should have expected. from all the time he's known you, he should know better than to assume he knows what's going on inside your head. you're unpredictable. and he loves it. it's actually one of his favorite things about you.

"there should be a first aid kit under the sink." you mutter, dragging him into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you as if you were at your own house. "the code of conduct says you're required to have one under each sink in case of emergency."

"no way you actually read the fucking code of conduct." chris says with a laugh, sitting down on the closed toilet seat. he watches you with a gentle smile splayed softly across his lips.

"of course not." you say without looking at him, crouching in front of the sink and beginning to dig through the cabinet. "jasmin's roommate did, though. i've never formally met her, but jaz complains about how strict she is with rules and shit."

"right," chris says.

he's hardly listening to you, though. as much as he would love to involve himself in a conversation with you — no matter the subject — he's distracted. you look so fucking gorgeous right now, and he can't tear his eyes away. it's becoming a genuine problem. he's not only focused on your appearance, though. just the sound of your voice is enough to take his attention away from the words you speak.

it's been so long since he's seen you, and he's just trying to relish in the escapism that your presence offers.

"-- might hurt." is all he hears when he zones back in. and he doesn't have any time to think before you press disinfectant to his knuckles. the medicine against the open wound causes him to suck in a sharp breath. you watch the pained expression on his face, and you frown. "focus on something else. you have nine more knuckles to work with."

as soon as you tell him to focus on something else, his mind instantly goes to you. he pins his eyes to yours, and you return the favor. you continue to hold the eye contact as you move to the next wound. he clenches his jaw, but the pain is much more bearable this time round.

this goes on for about a minute or two. you guys stare at one another as his knuckles are slowly getting the attention they need.

this thing is, kade had piercings. and every time chris's fist wound come in contact with his nose stud or his lip ring, it would puncture his skin — creating the jagged injuries that you're treating so delicately, now.

"done," you say with a wide grin. the sight of you looking at him with a proud smile makes the stinging pain from the gauze worth every second. chris watches as you shut the first-aid-kit and place it back where you'd found it. as you stand back up, he looks down at his battered hands.

you did a great job, that much was inevitable. when you dragged him up here, they were bleeding and throbbing. but now they're numbed, and the band-aid you pressed across the hills of his knuckles are keeping them from bleeding. suddenly, chris remembers something.

"c'mere." he tells you. you look at him with a confused expression, raising an eyebrow at his sudden assertiveness. he instantly feels guilty, and quickly apologizes. "sorry, i didn't mean to snap like that. i just want to check your nose. make sure it's not broken or anything."

you let out an airy chuckle, "you don't need to do that. i'm fine."

"i insist." chris presses on, standing from the toilet seat and taking a daring step closer to you. he hears your breath hitch, and a smile tugs at his lips. "it's the least i could do after you patched me up like humpty dumpty."

you laugh at this, a bright smile lighting the dimmed bathroom as your eyes squint with joy. chris wishes he could bottle this moment up and replay it whenever he pleases.

"okay, okay," you say as your laughter dies down, "you can check my nose."

you move to sit on the toilet seat he had just recently occupied. chris doesn't crouch in front of you the way you did to him, though. he stands before you, his legs placed between your knees. he grabs you jaw, gently as ever, and tips your head up. he uses his free hand to graze your nose, feeling the damage. or lack thereof.

"yeah," his voice is so quiet you strain to hear it, "yeah, you were right. it's not broken."

despite the initial concern now being solved, neither of you attempt to move from your position. chris continues to hold your chin upward, and you continue to stare at him through your lashes. his thigh knocks against your knee, but again, neither of you aim to change anything about this moment — both of you being too afraid to lose whatever chemistry is going on.

suddenly, there's a loud banging at the door. "hurry the fuck up! some of us have to take a shit! oh my god!"

chris gets annoyed by the interruption, tempted to exit the bathroom and hurt whoever just ruined the moment. that way, his knuckles would be bloody again and you'd help him again. yeah, that sounds like a good idea to him. but just as the anger settles into his mind like a bird nesting, something rips his attention away.

you burst out in a fit of laughter. chris whips his head in your direction, desperate to watch the adorable scrunch of your nose, and the light reflect in your eyes. still laughing, you stand from the toilet and wipe at your eyes. you urge chris forward, saying it's a good idea to leave seeing as you guys have been hogging the bathroom for a while.

chris happily obliges. honestly, he would agree with anything you'd say right now. he would do anything for you, simply in the hopes that you'd glance at him for a moment as he does so.

as you both exit the bathroom and return downstairs, chris notices you stumble a bit. then it clicks in his head — you're still a bit drunk. sure, the fight may have sobered you up a great deal, but it's not instantaneous. the alcohol is still in your system, and it's still altering your actions in a slight bit.

this would explain why you're so giggly, and why your cheeks are so rosy. and for a moment. for an awful, awful moment, chris wonders if that's the only reason why you're even hanging around him in the first place.

"let me walk you back to your dorm," chris offers.

"you don't have to do that." you insist, staring up at him with wild eyes and tangled hair that he finds incredibly endearing.

"tell me where your dorm is, and i'll decide that for myself." chris says. "how about this. if you're in this building, i'll let you walk home alone. but if you're in the west wing, you have to let me take you back."

you groan with a laugh, tipping your head back as you do so. "i'm in the west wing."

"great," chris says with a smile, "let me take you home. again, it's the least i could do after everything you've done for me."

"you already made it up to me by checking my nose." you point out, tapping the bridge of your nose to prove your point. "you don't need to escort me home, i'm sure i'll be okay."

"i'm not just talking about the fight." chris says. "you've been great to me since high school."

"oh,"

YOU

the only reason you don't want chris to walk you back to your dorm is because of elaine. she's an incredible manipulator, and will talk shit about you at any chance she gets. especially if she sees you with a new boy. and you're honestly scared that chris might believe her.

but when chris brought up your guys's past, something in your gut ached. you felt an urge to hug him, and confide in him, and simply just exist with him by your side.

it's probably because you no longer feel like you have anyone to confide in. you lost your boyfriend and your best friend in the same day, and you feel bad about complaining to jasmin because she'd going through the same thing. she lost elaine today, too, and it's not fair for you to whine about it when she's probably just as upset as you are.

"thank you," you say as you and chris approach your dorm.

you guys talked the entire way there. well, more like you talked while he listened. you felt bad for speaking without giving him a chance to respond, but he insisted that he doesn't mind. and plus, you're only talking so much due to your nerves.

what if elaine tells him something bad about you, and it makes chris hate you too? what if she sleeps with him the way she did with kade? well, you and chris aren't a thing, so that wouldn't bother you. well. it shouldn't. but it does. the image of him and her? it's- ugh, it's fucking unbearable. and you have no reason to feel that way, since you guys aren't dating. i mean, he could have a girlfriend, and you wouldn't know.

"of course," chris replies as though he was doing something unquestionable.

you stand there for a second, waiting for him to leave. but he doesn't. he's waiting for you to let him in. but. god, you can't do that. what if elaine is in there? finally, you decide to bite the bullet. you fumble with your keys and unlock the door, holding it open for him to enter through.

chris thanks you quickly, walking into your and elaine's shared dorm room. it's decorated to be cozy and warm — a theme that the two of your agreed would make it homier. you love the interior designing, and it makes you happy. but now, you can't think about anything except the image of kade on top of elaine. on your guys's shared couch.

you enter after chris, not turning to facet before you lock the door with the key and stuff it into your pocket. but when you finally turn around, you instantly run into his backside. you side step, wondering what made him stop walking so abruptly. then, you see-

oh.

of fucking course.

kade is sitting on the beige-colored couch with a packs of ice pressed to his face in various spots. while elaine straddles his lap, holding the ice for him as she speaks in gentle, soothing tones. they don't seem to notice you and chris at first, seeming to be too busy flirting with one another. but this could just be an act. perhaps they're trying to look unbothered. and if so, it's working.

elaine leans forward and kisses kade passionately. it lasts long enough that you begin to feel uncomfortable. you turn to chris with a forced smile, "well. thanks for walking me back."

he looks at you with a worried expression, seeing directly through your facade. he knows you and elaine were best friends — your entire high school knew you guys to be the perfect duo. inseparable. and he also knows that kade is a dick. you're not sure if he's aware that you guys dated, but chris definitely hates his guts now, after what happened at the party.

"you can stay with me and my brothers tonight, if you want." chris offers. "we talked the school into giving us a huge dorm so the three of us could share. but it's bigger than we expected, so we have tons of room for you if you don't want to stay here for the night. and none of us would blame you, by the way."

he gives elaine and kade a side-glance. the glare that chris shoots them would likely have been deadly if they were to have looked up at him. but they're too busy with each other to even notice his eyes on them.

"i couldn't ask you to do that," you say with another forced smile, "i'll be fine for the night. you've done more than enough."

chris looks like he wants to protest against this, but he shuts his mouth and decides not to. he nods, agreeing with your decision. "i'm not going to force you, but the offer remains. even if you change your mind in the middle of the night, i'll let you in without any questions."

you smile at this. genuinely. chris has been so insanely kind to you, and you simply don't understand what you've done to deserve it. yeah, you guys were friends a few years back. but chris is being so generous.

overcome with emotion, you wrap your arms around his neck. you hug him tightly, and he hugs you back. you bury your head in the crook of his collarbone, and squeeze him as though you would break without him there to hold you together. like a vase that needs tape to stay standing.

when you finally let go, you're forced to wipe at your eyes to refrain from crying. that would be insanely embarrassing, so you refuse to let any tears fall. you're sure chris wouldn't mind, but you would. you'd rather die than let him see you sob over your ex best friend and kade. ugh. even his name makes your throat close up.

"this is so insensitive." elaine says, causing you and chris to both turn your heads in her direction. you'd forgotten about her. well, that's a complete lie. but you'd like to believe it.

she's still sitting on kade's lap, but they're no longer making out shamelessly. her arms are draped across his shoulders, and his hands are under her shirt, but it's better than before, at least.

"y'know that's the prick who did this to kade, don't you?" elaine asks, directing her question to you.

"i'm aware." you reply, keeping your voice as level as possible. the feeling of having chris behind you makes you feel ten times as more confident, knowing he'd back you up against kade. you don't feel small against her anymore like you did at the party. it's nice. having someone on your side as well. it's not 2 v 1 any longer.

"then why the fuck is he even here? it's not his dorm." kade asks with a scoff and an eye roll, as though the scoff wasn't enough. you feel as chris's posture straightens behind you, and you give him a side glance that only the two of you could notice. he understands, and instantly relaxes — knowing that this is your problem, not his.

"i was there when the fight happened." you tell her, ignoring kade's attempt to piss chris off. "where were you, elaine? having sex with damien? oh, or was it vance? sorry. i can't keep up."

elaine looks like she could explode with rage, her face turning red as her teeth clenching together. it's a sight that you'd love to relish in, but you learned your lesson earlier today. sometimes it's best not to add on more and more. that's asking for a fight.

so you simply give her a final smile, turning to chris. you give him an apologetic look before standing on your toes and pressing your lips to his.

the kiss was an attempt to make elaine and kade annoyed, but you find yourself genuinely enjoying it. you snake your arms behind chris's neck, and he places his hands on your waist, holding your firmly against him. time seems to slow around you guys, as if the universe had been waiting for this moment for as long as you were. it no longer matters who's in the room. you only care about chris.

"i'm so sorry," you whisper against his lips between kisses, "just go with it."

"don't you dare apologize for this." he says. you feel his grip on your waist tighten, and you smile against him, returning to the kiss with an entirely different intention.

before, it was just to piss off your two nemesis. but now, you're doing it for your own enjoyment. because you actually want to. because you actually have feelings for chris. well. you think? you never saw him as a crush before this. but now, you're not sure you'll ever be able to look at him in the same light.

christopher owen. your christopher owen.

@kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq @ifilwtmfc @poopydroopt @cl0esblogg @ellaynaa @itzdarling

[lu-is-not-ok]

This fucking guy.

Anyway have some of my incoherent ramblings about this man under the read more because I have a lot to say about him.

Alright, let me split this into three sections because otherwise this ramble will be even more of a mess than it already is.

I'm gonna discuss Yi Sang in the mirror, or Sang Yi, under a couple of different lights.

One, how he relates to the concept of being the opposite reflection to Yi Sang. Two, how he ties back to Yi Sang's wife from "The Wings". And three, some of my thoughts about how he might fit into the wider scope of the plot and world of Limbus Company.

Strap in lads.

Sang Yi as a "left-handed" reflection

Something that becomes increasingly clear as we're shown interactions between Yi Sang and Sang Yi, and what is directly spelled out by the latter at the end of Canto IV's dungeon, is that Sang Yi is effectively the antithesis of much that makes Yi Sang, well... Yi Sang.

Yi Sang, at the core of everything, is a very sentimental and kind man. He cares a lot about the people around him, even if he doesn't always show it outwardly, and struggles to move on from whatever losses he experiences. Though he may claim otherwise, he's also constantly thinking about everything he's going through, which is what eventually leads him to the Mirror as a form of escapism from his curel reality.

Sang Yi on the other hand... is none of that.

Most of the 'comforting' words or advice Sang Yi offers to Yi Sang can be boiled down to "Stop caring or thinking about every little thing.", a sentiment that's directly in opposition of who Yi Sang is as a person.

Sang Yi finds the idea of feeling joy or despair over the past pointless. He thinks Yi Sang shouldn't feel guilty about his technology being used to exploit others because he already knew what he was getting himself into. He doesn't understand why Yi Sang would have trouble moving on if he were to lose Sang Yi.

Whereas Yi Sang is caring and emotionally-driven, Sang Yi is... I don't want to say uncaring, since he does seem to care about Yi Sang to some degree, but at the very least he is rather distant and logically-driven.

I think the moment that exemplifies that the most is when Yi Sang tells him Gubo doesn't care about him beyond using him as an accessory to prop himself up in the limelight, to which Sang Yi responds that it doesn't matter, that Yi Sang should use this as an opportunity to be in that limelight as well.

And, actually, speaking about that. Sang Yi doesn't really seem to think things through nearly as much as Yi Sang does. Or, at the very least, he doesn't care to look deeper than the surface level.

Sang Yi sees Gubo's attempts at connecting with Yi Sang as genuinely caring about him, whereas Yi Sang is able to see through them and realize Gubo is being entirely selfish here. Sang Yi sees the new League of Nine as something worth joining, while Yi Sang notices that it is nothing but a mockery of the old League. When Sang Yi learns of the new League's plan to destroy mirror worlds, his only reaction is that of mild curiosity without even a sign of concern.

All that being said, the biggest example of this might just be the fact that Sang Yi did not even realize just how badly Yi Sang was feeling until Yi Sang straight up told him there was nothing left for him in this world outside of Sang Yi.

Though we can't know for sure what exactly Sang Yi was feeling at the time, as all that we know about him is colored by Yi Sang's own bias towards him, I think it's fair to say that was the moment where it finally hit Sang Yi just how badly he fucked up by keeping Yi Sang stuck there all to himself.

Which, now that I think about it, transitions nicely to the other angle I want to look at.

Sang Yi as Yeongsim / Yi Sang's wife

First of all, just to lay it out there in the open, as fucking hilarious out of context as it sounds to say Yi Sang was his own wife all along, it's... actually not all that far off.

Beyond the fact that the Mirror is directly named after his wife in "The Wings", there's some other obvious signs that point to it. If you were to take the letters Yi Sang was writing to Sang Yi out of context, you could absolutely mistake them for something one would write to a lover too far away to be easily reachable. Plus, the way Yi Sang's first reaction to seeing Sang Yi is to call him "beautiful" in his mind?

Yeah, there's something to that.

And, of course, there's something to be said about the similarities between Sang Yi's role in Yi Sang's life, and the role Yi Sang's wife played in "The Wings".

That being the way both of them end up isolating Yi Sang, how both of them actively withhold information from him, and how Yi Sang sees them as perfect and without a fault even as they're hurting him.

I don't feel like talking about "The Wings" in depth right now as it's almost 5 am and I want to actually finish writing this fucking post at some point, but if you want to know what I'm comparing Sang Yi to, it's a short read that's easy to find a free pdf online for.

The fact that Sang Yi was trying to keep Yi Sang inside is probably the most spelled out one out of everything I'm talking about in this post. Not only does Sang Yi directly tell Yi Sang to stay with him (mind you he doesn't even ask), but Ishmael, as an outside observer, notes how Sang Yi was trying to keep Yi Sang in the room by making him afraid of the outside.

Actually, looking at when he finally offers Yi Sang the choice to leave, it's in a... very interesting way, shall we say?

Not only does Sang Yi try to make the option of staying sound as appealing as possible by bringing up that Yi Sang will be able to continue doing what he loves (or at least what Sang Yi believes Yi Sang loves), like continue working on the Mirror and keep talking to him.

On the other hand, Sang Yi is reluctant to even bring up the option that Yi Sang can leave, and when Yi Sang shows interest (note that Yi Sang's immediate reaction isn't a "I don't want to leave", it's a "I don't think I can leave"), he continues to make the option sound as unappealing as possible, while still making it clear that it is possible.

How Yi Sang doesn't need to be able to fly to leave, but he will struggle endlessly if he does. How Yi Sang can eventually find somewhere to call his home, but he will have to walk until his feet hurt and will have to settle for wherever or whatever he ends up resting at.

I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like the kind of encouragement or advice someone who had a person's best interest in mind would make.

Now, let's make some other facts clear while we're at it.

Sang Yi knew that Yi Sang had wings as well, after all, he calls that fact 'obvious' when he finally mentions it. However, he never directly told him he does, even as Yi Sang lamented to him about how (in his eyes) he himself had no wings. He only brings it up when Yi Sang is truly at his lowest.

Sang Yi knew what the effects of supplements Yi Sang was taking were, as he can tell exactly what will happen if Yi Sang stops taking them, or takes several at once. However, he never directly told him this until he gives Yi Sang a choice, even though he was clearly aware they were not beneficial.

Sang Yi knew that Yi Sang's room was always open, as he was confident that Yi Sang would be able to just leave on his own once the effects of the supplements cleared away. However, he never tells Yi Sang that, even when Yi Sang is making it clear he doesn't think he even can leave. It's actually one of the thing Yi Sang ends up finding out by himself.

Despite all of this... Yi Sang never stops to consider that Sang Yi might not have his best interests in mind. Sang Yi is his everything. He's perfect, flawless, the ideal self. He's the only thing Yi Sang has left.

Call me cynical, but it paints the ending of the Canto in a somewhat bittersweet light to me. After all, Sang Yi never has to apologize or even admit to anything, and Yi Sang still views him as positively as he always has.

I guess at the very least it's accurate to the book. After all, Yi Sang in "The Wings" ends up holding on to that perfect image of his wife to the very end.

Sang Yi as an entity

Okay I have no clever transition here like I did last time, but this is probably the thing about Sang Yi that's been bugging me the most.

Have you guys noticed just how much Sang Yi seems to know about Yi Sangs from different worlds? Those sweeping general statements about "All versions of Yi Sang" or "All Yi Sangs" that he makes with full confidence.

When Yi Sang assumes that Sang Yi can "be anywhere he wants" thanks to his wings, just how correct is he?

With the way Sang Yi talks about other Yi Sangs, it gives the impression that he's met a lot of them in the past. In fact, if that's true, it would recolor the meaning of Sang Yi's comment about his meeting with his particular Yi Sang "peculiar".

What's so peculiar about our Yi Sang specifically, if Sang Yi has met so many of them? Is it the method, the fact that it's through the mirror? Is it that Sang Yi finally found a Yi Sang that also had wings? Is it because our Yi Sang is the first one to contact him rather than the other way around?

And while we're on that topic, isn't the way Sang Yi talks about Yi Sangs kind of odd? It's always "All Yi Sangs" or "All versions of Yi Sang", as if he's not part of those Yi Sangs himself. It's like he's putting himself in the role of an outside observer, seperate from the concept of being a 'Yi Sang'.

Just what is Sang Yi, really? He implies he's the version of our Yi Sang that's inside the mirror, the one that "needs to be opposite, yet is quite alike" to the one outside, to explain why our Yi Sang would have wings if he saw them on Sang Yi, but like... He never directly says that's the case.

In fact, when Yi Sang asks Sang Yi about what the outside is like, Sang Yi weirdly dodges the question, saying it's all "the same tiring stuff". Another example of him withholding information aside, this all makes him seem rather fucking suspicious to me.

Just. What is he really?

God I hope we get to see him again, cause I really want to know what the fuck his actual deal is.

[nomoreusername]

Different Sides

Pairing:Minho x female reader

Summary:After Thomas comes to the Glade and everyone picks sides you and Minho discover how different you actually are.

The Glade was split on what to do. Half of us thought we should trust Thomas and try to get out. The other half thought Greenie was insane and didn't know a single thing about being here.

Minho was on the side of trusting Greenie. I was on the side that he was out of his shucking mind.

"Oh come on Newt. One night in the pit, you really think that's going to stop him from going in the maze again?"Gally pointed out.

"No, and we can't just have non-runners go into the Maze whenever they feel like it,"He shrugged.

"Then, punish him harsher. If we let one person slide soon there will be no order here,"I spoke up.

"Exactly. See? She gets it,"Gally said, seeming relieved I agreed and irritated nobody else was on our side.

"Hold on. I was going to say that starting tomorrow Thomas is a Runner,"He finished.

"Excuse me? Is this some kind of joke?"I asked, dumbfounded why anyone thought this was okay.

"No, no, no, no. Let's reward him for breaking our rules. That won't lead to a rebellion at all,"Gally added, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration. I was right there with him. In three seconds I was going to pull my hair out.

"Like it or not Thomas found a clue, and-"

"No. We don't like it. Listen. The Glade isn't perfect, but it gives us everything we need to survive. The walls protect us. We have food and water. We get supplies. We've built a life here. For all we know these walls could be saving our lives. We need to take advantage of that,"I ranted.

"Y/N, we have spent years trying to escape this place. We have the chance, and you want to stay behind because you're scared of what's out there,"Minho asked.

"It's not just that. Something worse could be waiting for us. We know what's going to happen here. We're safe. Why would we want to leave?"I asked.

"Maybe because we're trapped behind these walls all day? I'm not sure if you've noticed, but we've kind of been stuck here our entire lives,"He shot back.

"I've noticed, but I'm fine with it. What I'm not fine with is the way you are all too blind to see that something is up with Greenie. He's out of his shucking mind. He was too fearless when he ran out there. He knows something,"I snapped, turning around and pointing at him. He looked lost as to what was going on. That'll sure be helpful in a maze.

"Yeah. I'm talking about you. You're up to something. You've just come up and screwed everything up. We were all doing fine before you came along,"I scowled.

"Let's take a minute, and calm down,"Newt tried to direct, but by now chaos was innetevable.

"If anybody else would have done that nobody would have hesitated to throw them in the pit. Now we're having and entire debate about it,"Gally pointed out.

"It's different so everyone-"

"No! I will not calm down!"I yelled.

"Screaming isn't going to help us,"He calmly stated.

"Why is nobody listening? We have lived here for years. He hasn't. We know what this place has. Come on guys. The bonfires at Greenie nights, the times it rains, the way we're always adding to it. Does that mean nothing?"I listed. There as still silence.

"Come on. Just think about it. Why would we want to risk our lives because of some stranger. He just showed up, and we're all we know. Doesn't that mean anything?"I pleaded.

"We can have more out there in the world,"Minho tried to convince me.

"But-"

"They're not on our side Y/N. They're never going to be,"Gally interrupted. Deep down I knew he was right. "If you guys want to keep throwing the Greenie a parade that's fine, but we don't want any part of it,"He added before storming out.

"Doesn't the Glade mean anything to you guys? Isn't the fact that this is our home reason enough to stay where we are?"I repeated. The dead silence told me everything I needed to know.

"Fine. If you guys want to take a strangers side over ours then I am done with you. That especially means you,"I scowled, glaring at Minho. His expression was as cold as before.

Leaving them with that final message I left too. It's clear we weren't meant to stick together. There are two options. Stay loyal to the Glade or try and escape. So it wasn't just dramatics in there, and I truly meant my words.

Minho chose his side, and I chose mine. They were just different ones.

[zarvasace]

So I know you stated you weren't going to share the writing for that darks verse au, but would you be willing to give a synopsis? (Perfectly fine either way, just have a special place in my heart where I cherish and LoZ darks verse style aus)

Was this more of 'they're all evil and the Links defeat them' or 'they all become some degree of friends in the end' kind of fic?

Yeah I can share a synopsis of what I had and what I planned! Part of why I dropped the project is that I hadn't decided whether to make the characters sympathetic or not, either, because they weren't meant to be, but..... I got, and am still, attached. XD I kind of want the darks to get little redemption arcs! Or at least not killed. Their version of happy endings maybe.

Anyway, of the two fics, one had Four's Shadow as immediately a good guy, and the other had his motives a little dubious at first. The following is the latter:

A portal jump dumps the entire Chain into Warriors's Hyrule, where they're ambushed by people with reddened eyes and little to no pain response. They quickly realize that these are civilians being possessed or something, and struggle in the fight to try to not hurt them. Due to portal shenanigans, Four is out of commission, and during the fight, he and Hyrule are picked up and kidnapped.

The two of them aren't given any explanations, just taken to a tunnel system and locked up in a dark cellar. They're left alone until one of the possessed civilians comes in to give them some food and water. Four gets a weird feeling about it. Then he and Hyrule officially meet the first dark: evil Hyrule, who proceeds to use weakened versions of Hyrule's spells to torment him, but doesnt touch Four.

After a while of this, one of the possessed people enters with a bit more animation than usual, and has a conversation with Four that leaves him moderately sure that Shadow is controlling these civilians somehow, and remembers him, but he isn't exactly sure that they're on the same side.

At some point, a new Dark (evil Sky) enters the picture, coming in to unlock Hyrule and take him just outside the cellar door. He heals someone out there, a little more than they wanted him to, and then Sky's dragged in. He was captured too, but on purpose, with garlic in his pocket. The Chain has been having a hard time finding out how to get into the tunnels, and this is their plan: get someone else captured and follow his scent.

Meanwhile, Shadow shows his hand and gives Four his sword back, so he splits and carries out a distraction plan as the Chain fights through monsters (Shadow is in fact controlling people but he keeps them away from the fight.) Some things go wrong, some things go right, Blue breaks his thumb to get out of shackles, Red goes tiny and drops pots on evil Sky's head, and eventually the two darks are brutally murdered and the three/six/seven heroes rescued.

Cue a bit of distrust of Shadow and the rumbling of a new plan: there are other darks out there in the dark world, waiting for their chance to come into the light and cause problems.

Dun dun dunnnnnnn

More installments would give them time to run into all the other darks, deal with some trials on Shadow's part, etc.

I have been spending some time doodling these darks and will write up a post later tonight (probably) about who they are and what decisions I made. :) I've changed some of the lore since this story, you'll probably notice it in Shadow the most.

[apocalypseornaw]

Soulmate AU Series- Benny

Benny Lafitte x Reader

You and your soulmate have the same tattoo

@decadentstrangernacho I swear I didn't forget this!!!

An anchor of all things, marking your right wrist from the day you'd turned eighteen. Your soulmark, the one sure way you had of knowing who your soulmate was should you ever meet them. What a crock. If the myth was true and Zeus was the one responsible for splitting souls in half and forcing them to try to seek out their missing part you wouldn't given him the satisfaction of playing into the game.

You wore a leather cuff around your wrist, covering the mark. You knew for a fact someone could be happy without ever meeting their soulmate, hell you'd seen first hand the pain Sam had gone through when his mark faded after Jess, the pain Bobby had still been in from Karen's death and how insane John went after losing Mary.

Most hunters had taken to covering their marks, whether with cuffs like you and Dean or in some other way. Your life was destined bloody, brutal and short. Why drag some poor idiot down with you?

When Dean got blasted to purgatory you and Sam ended up splitting ways for a few months. He needed a break but you knew if you ever stopped hunting and gave yourself time to break you may not ever pull yourself back together.

---------------

Almost a year passed when one night while you were crashing in one of Bobby's many cabins you got a call from Sam saying you needed to meet him as soon as possible. You never would've dreamed Dean was waiting with him.

You and the boys quickly settled back into the routine the three of you had gotten used to over years of hunting together. It worked so why try to fix it?

-------------

One night after a particularly bloody hunt you were washing your hands in the sink of the hotel the three of you had picked while Dean waited for you to stitch his arm. You glanced up and realized he was standing in the doorway, holding your bandana to the wound but his eyes were glued to your bare wrist "Dean, you good?" You asked him as you dried your hands off. Sam had already put your shoulder back in place and cleaned up well enough to go after food so it was just the two of you.

He shook his head almost as if he had been in a trance "Yeah, I'm good sweetheart" you narrowed your eyes "Either you're lying or having more ptsd from purgatory. Which is it?" He shrugged "I'm exhausted and starving" you laughed at his words "See? Easy enough to tell me what's really wrong"

Dean didn't want you to know he was staring at your soulmark because for the last year he'd been staring at the matching one. Hell you still didn't know exactly how he'd gotten out of purgatory. He'd told Sam the entire story and even introduced him to Benny the weekend you'd gone to help Jody out but happened to leave out the part about Benny being your soulmate. How the hell should he approach the fact when he knew that your aunt had gotten killed by a nest and that was when Bobby had found you? Hell you'd hated the soulmark since it first appeared, even trying to get a tattoo over it.

He sat still while you put three stitches in his arm then cleaned the wound about the time Sam came walking back in the door. Sam wanted to tell you about Benny but would he if he knew?

You laid across the backseat of the impala laughing as Dean purposely sang along badly to the radio just to make Sam groan. You weren't sure where the three of you were headed because both of them were being dodgy about it but you didn't care. You trusted them fully and if they said there was a case, there was a case.

You'd almost dozed off when you heard Dean's voice and thought at first he was talking to Sam but then he said "Yeah, we'll meet ya there" who? Were the three of you backing another hunter? And what was bad enough to warrant four sets boots on the dirt?

-------------

About an hour later you felt the impala lurch to a stop and sat up to see where you were. It looked like you'd headed south, were you in Louisiana?

The impala was parked in front of a gumbo shack. You motioned towards it with your hand "What are we doing here Dean?" He glanced back at you and shrugged "Don't know about you but I'm getting hungry. Figured we'd stop for a bite"

You weren't sure what the two of them was up to but you noticed him and Sam exchange a loaded look. "Is something going on?" You asked and was met with two innocent shrugs that were anything but. You wanted to argue more but your stomach growled and Dean grinned victoriously.

-----------------

You followed the two of them into the doors of the gumbo shack. Music played from an old jukebox but whatever was cooking smelled amazing. You spotted a pretty brunette woman at the register who greeted the three of you warmly and said to sit anywhere.

You picked a corner booth, giving the boys the wall and putting your back to the room. Any other time you'd insist on your back to the wall but with them you knew you were safe.

You felt a familiar prickling at the back of your neck but ignored it when the pretty brunette walked over. Her name tag said Elizabeth and you could see Dean's dimples he was grinning so hard. "What can I get for you three?" She asked, her accent telling you she was from around here. You glanced at the menu then back at her "It all looks good. Any recommendations?"

She smiled warmly "looking for a sandwich or something filling?" You cut your eyes at Dean "We've been on the road a while so I'd say something filling" she nodded "Then I'd say the gumbo. It's my favorite" "All we needed to know. Three gumbos" she wrote down on her order pad then looked at the boys "Drinks?" "Tea" all three of you echoed. She laughed "Love an easy table. Roy will bring it over if I'm busy"

You watched her walk off then glanced back at Dean "If you don't try to get her number I am" he laughed "You're always eager on the button to bust me aren't ya?" You shrugged with a grin.

----------------

While you waited on your food you glanced around the inside of the restaurant. There were a few other patrons but your eyes landed on the man at the grill. He was around Dean's height, maybe a couple inches shorter but damn was he broad. He turned as if he could feel his eyes on you and when his blue eyes locked onto yours you felt your face warm. He was really good looking but you hated getting caught checking someone out.

The moment didn't go unnoticed by Dean who whistled low "Sweetheart are you claiming everyone in here today?" Refusing to let him see you blush you rolled your eyes "Why not?" He laughed and poor Sam looked just done with you both.

-------------------

You were emailing Garth when you felt a shiver go up your back and looked up to see the man who'd been cooking was sitting bowls down in front of Dean and Sam. You met his eyes and he gave you a warm smile "Enjoy darling"

He extended his right hand to place a bowl in front of you but his sleeve was rolled up to his elbow exposing his wrist and the anchor marking. You froze staring at his wrist as the prickle ran across your back again.

You looked from the man to Dean, realization sitting in that this was your soulmate and he was a vampire. He gave the slightest shake of his head and you felt like you'd been dipped in ice water. He knew, both things. You felt tears spring to your eyes and looked at Sam but he looked just as guilty. "Guessing you still haven't told her?" The man asked and you started to shake your head. The two people you trusted had lied to you and apparently whatever God was responsible for soulmates had a sick sense of humor.

You stood up, shoving past the vampire and headed for the door. You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Why did you think springing all this on her was a good idea Dean?” Sam and Benny both had been under the impression he'd told you everything but it turned out he hadn't told you anything.

Dean shrugged “She couldn't attack him in a restaurant Sammy! I mean we know her thing with vamps, was there any good way of her reacting here?” Benny shook his head, feeling oddly protective of you even after only meeting you once “She shouldn't have found out like that” he snapped.

Dean cut his eyes at him, raising an eyebrow but Sam laughed lightly “He's met her now, it's his instincts to protect her” Dean nodded slowly “Soulmate shit is weird” then added “Sam track her phone we gotta find her”

Ok maybe storming off on foot in a town you didn't know with no money and only a handgun was a bad idea but how could they hide this from you?

You unsnapped the cuff as you walked, staring at the anchor. Why a vampire? And how had Sam and Dean met him and why hadn't they taken care of him before ever having the chance to find out he was your soulmate?

You shook your head and snapped it back. You needed to call them but you were still pissed.

—-------------------

You weren't sure how long or how far you walked before you heard the familiar rumble of the impala's engine pulling up next to you.

You stopped walking and heard Dean's voice “Sweetheart, I'm sorry. Please just get in and I'll tell you the entire story” you spun to face the car and realized it was only him “Where's Sam?” “With Benny. Now please get in”

You were hurt yeah but deep down you knew you could trust Dean with your entire life. You could give him the chance to explain even if it had better be the mount Everest of explanations.

About an hour later you and Dean were pulling up to a small cabin. When he parked you hesitated, picking at the cuff on your wrist “All I'm promising is to introduce myself. I trust you enough to trust him” he nodded “All I ask”

You climbed out the car behind Dean and followed him to the porch before realizing Sam and Benny were sitting on it watching the two of you. They stood as you got closer.

Dean looked from you to Benny before formally introducing the two of you. You took a deep breath before extending your hand. The moment Benny shook it there was a feeling like electricity that hit your mark. He must have felt it too. “Darling I didn't know Dean hadn't told you about me. I wouldn't have agreed to ambush you with this. I don't expect anything from you I just wanted to meet you once Dean told me about you, after he saw my mark or well after he saw my mark and fully trusted me”

—--------------

Like you'd noticed before he was good looking, broad with bright blue eyes and a crooked smile that made your heart flip and that accent was a killer. You almost forgot about him being a vampire, almost. “I didn't mean to react like that but me and vampires don't have a good track record” he nodded “Sam filled me in on your aunt”

You reached for his right hand and he gladly gave it to you, watching as you lightly traced the anchor on his skin “I have no clue why a hunter and a vampire were chosen for each other” he shrugged “When I was human and even after I was turned I figured I didn't have a soulmate because there was no mark but then this showed up”

You looked up at him “When?” When he told you how long the mark had been there you laughed “That was when I turned eighteen. So your soulmark showed up while you were in purgatory?” He nodded “Didn't figure I'd ever have a chance of meeting you until Dean landed there”

You realized you still had his hand so you dropped it gently before offering him a smile “Guess you're not that bad. You helped Dean, you don't feed off humans and you're not ugly” he laughed at that “And you're downright beautiful”

You shook your head “Easy Lafitte on the sweet talk” “Yes ma'am” he teased and you shook your head “I can offer you my friendship, if anything more comes we'll cross that bridge when we get to it but for now we can get to know each other” he smiled “I'd like nothing more”

[vroomlesbianvroom]

If the Wizarding World had Ofsted, Hogwarts would have been closed down in at least Harry’s first year.

Also, either Dumbledore was in fact manipulative and the mastermind behind almost everything wrong in Harry Potter or he’s senile as fuck. Either way he never should have been Headmaster.

Every single year this man is mentally deranged at that school, he should have been fired in first year at least. (I go into more detail if you click read more).

Philosopher’s Stone

He has Hagrid introduce Harry to the wizarding world - normally it’s a Head of House - Hagrid then very suspiciously collects the Stone (he must have known Hagrid was not the man to be subtle here)

He makes a big spectacle of not going to the third floor corridor - he could have just said it’s closed this year and put some wards up to stop children but in fact all he did was lock the door and then teach them how to unlock it

Students must not go into the Forbidden forest at any time unless it’s a punishment in which we’ll send you with just Hagrid and then you’ll split into groups anyway. What a smart idea

How did no one notice that Voldemort was on the back of Quirrells head? You’re telling the best wizard in the world couldn’t work it out

Three first years managed to get past that little questy maze but it was supposed to stop one of the strongest wizards in the world

Speaking of the maze, it’s all things that they’re good at or have learnt - Devils Snare, chess, the troll they’ve already caught, flying, and a little riddle - Voldemort definitely couldn’t get passed those everyone knows the Dark Lord is shit at chess

When Harry has just killed a man, Dumbledores like it was love. No that is a traumatised child.

Chamber of Secrets

Not a single teacher (or any of her four brothers) noticed that Ginny was possessed for almost an entire year

Some creature is going around and petrifying students and the teachers only plan is to set a curfew and cancel quidditch

Hermione Granger, a twelve year old, manages to work out the creature but Dumbledore can’t - the man had 50 years to work it out

Lockhart is obviously a hack and somehow gets the job anyway

Ron and Harry then manage to work out where the chamber is located but no one else can - they’re not exactly the most observant of children

Harry also talks to a diary that talks back - can someone teach these children that that’s not normal, please stop?

Prisoner of Azkaban

This is possibly the book where Dumbledore’s the best behaved

He does allow a thirteen year old to use a time turner to attend extra lessons - yeah, just let her possibly rip apart time and her own existence that’ll be fine

He also must know that Sirius is innocent and does nothing to help him

They also continue doing quidditch even with the soul sucking creatures floating above them

You need a parental consent form to go to Hogsmede but not to fly on a broom and be around deadly soul sucking creatures that makes complete sense

With the ministry they put dementors in a school full of children but they don’t continue looking after the year ends

Goblet of Fire

This has to be Dumbledore’s worst year

Harry gets signed up to the deadly tournament without his consent and they don’t even really try to get him out - I refuse to believe that a minor could sign a legally binding contract without any form of consent - I also refuse to believe that someone else can get you in a legally binding contract

If they could, why didn’t they just do that with Voldemort

Dumbledore doesn’t notice that his old friend is acting a little bit strange and is in fact a death eater in disguise

You’re telling me Harry can’t go to Hogsmede without the Dursley’s permission but can enter a deadly contest Willy nilly

He allows minors to be fight dragons, be tied to the bottom of a lake and be teleported to Voldemort without even trying - no one checked the cup before putting in the maze

Moody is allowed to teach the unforgivables to children and practise one on them

Order of the Phoenix

This year he’s not awful just a prick

Voldemorts back and Harry’s having creepy nightmares/visions and Dumbledore just keeps running away - just talk to the boy

How did no one in that school notice that Umbridge was using a blood quill on students - how shit are these teachers

Please just explain to Harry’s what going on - this is what we’ve been building up to this whole time

Half Blood Prince

This is when he fully stops caring about any student other than Harry

He knows the whole time that Dracos been forced to take the dark mark and has to kill him and he doesn’t even try and help the boy

He knows he’s dying and gives Harry very little information about the Horcruxs and also uses him to find out information about how many there were

He knows Harry’s a horcrux the entire time and just doesn’t mention it coz he needs Harry to die when the times right

Dumbledore is either mental and needs a hug-me jacket or he’s evil and needs to stay away from children. He could have prevented so much pain and suffering. He could have stopped Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort in the first place.

He grooms Harry to fight Voldemort and die when the times right and doesn’t even seem to care. Right when Harry needs him, he’s no where to be found.

This is only what we know from Harry’s perspective I imagine it’s a lot worse from everyone else’s.

[zukkaoru]

ummmmm how about 3, 8, & 10 for fyonikonathan, montcott, and/or kunichuuzai (however you want to split the numbers and ships up lol)

also ily <333

fyonikonathan

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

well. on one hand. fyodor. because [redacted]. you know how it is (<- said to everyone except corey). and they react by ignoring all of their feelings of course. on the other hand. nikolai. and he reacts like this and this

8. What they argue about

religion. nikolai being against it entirely ofc but i also just know fyodor and nathaniel are fighting about the nitpicky things like whether you should be dunked under the water forwards or backwards when you're baptized

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

nikolai doesn't hide anything he watches. he's out here handcuffing both fyodor and nathaniel to the couch so they can watch all of riverdale and he is having a GREAT time. fyodor says he doesn't watch tv but does in fact rather enjoy soap operas. he and nathaniel watched the bible miniseries together to see if it was accurate or not and they took a great many precautions to make sure nikolai wouldn't interrupt. nathaniel actually doesn't watch much tv unless nikolai is forcing him to watch something. the three of them watch a lot of trashy reality tv together bc nikolai loves the drama and the other two are handcuffed to the couch again

montcott

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

i think. probably louisa outlives lucy. and she doesn't handle it well. she wants to lock herself in a room and use her ability because that's always what she's done to avoid facing her problems, except that will only make her life stretch on longer, so she stops using her ability at all. louisa's religious beliefs are very,, she doesn't exactly know what she believes but if she does believe in anything, it tells her she isn't going to see lucy again because lucy definitely didn't believe in the same things as louisa so she can live for another million years or she could die right now and it wouldn't make any difference. she hopes there's no afterlife so she doesn't have to deal with missing lucy anymore. she hates what she believes in, but that doesn't make her stop believing it. she's having a very bad time.

8. What they argue about

their big argument before they sort things out is about lucy betraying the guild + louisa just standing by and doing nothing while everyone treated lucy like crap after the ada figured out her ability. once they get past that and rekindle their friendship/relationship, smaller things they argue about are whether or not reading is fun (louisa thinks yes; lucy thinks no) whether sticking pins/needles through the top layer of your skin is a fine thing to do (lucy thinks yes; louisa thinks no), how many stuffed animals is too many (lucy thinks there is no such thing; louisa would like some room on the bed for herself please), and also their differing opinions on fashion (lucy likes fun flashy things and louisa prefers simple outfits)

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

lucy makes louisa watch reality shows that center around fashion/clothes with her (say yes to the dress, america's next top model). lucy also probably has watched keeping up with the kardashians but refuses to admit it. louisa prefers fictional tv shows, usually ones that take place in the real world but have magical elements (the librarians, witches of east end) but she's watched. a lot of different shows. bc growing up, she would use her ability to just read books/watch tv shows and movies to escape reality. she hides the fact that she's seen every episode of shows like riverdale and supernatural and sherlock bc they weren't that good but she enjoyed watching them anyway

kunichuuzai

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope

kunikida . i think. dazai and chuuya are going to go together and they're going to leave kunikida behind and he's going to be angry at first because it's easier than being sad. he doesn't cope well. he keeps forgetting they're not coming back this time.

8. What they argue about

whether a diet consisting entirely of canned crab is sustainable (dazai says yes, kuni and chuuya say no), whether or not wine is good (dazai says no, kuni and chuuya say yes), whether or not chuuya's hat ugly (dazai says yes, chuuya says no, kuni refuses to get involved in that one), whether they should get a dog (chuuya says yes just a small one, dazai says no because he doesn't like dogs and they're too much work, kunikida says no because chuuya you are ALLERGIC TO THEM), and also there has to be one big argument about kunikida's ideal partner and is he actually going to stay with chuuya and dazai or is he just wasting time while he waits for the Right Person to come along and he can leave them behind

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other

dazai makes the other two watch trashy reality tv and poorly-written dramas. chuuya pretends to hate it but ends up getting the most invested out of all of them. kunikida puts up with it because his partners enjoy it, and he likes seeing their reactions. dazai doesn't hide anything he watches. chuuya probably has one comfort cartoon they watch when they're having a bad day but will absolutely die before admitting as much. kunikida doesn't watch much tv in general, but he does sort of hide that he enjoys watching nature documentaries with kenji. it's not an on-purpose secret; he just never mentions it to dazai and chuuya

[faelynfawn]

Hi I just saw the circus au art and I'm here to ask about him.

Feel free to go on a ramble I need everything you got :3

Oh my gods thank you so much for asking I have so much to say. (Also, by the way, I love your art so so much. If you have ever noticed me spam reblog a bunch of your art, it was most likely because I was on a call with my friends and showing it to them.)

So, the first and most important thing to establish, is that all versions of Scar I rotate around in my brain are disabled. Specifically in regards to circus headcanon or AUs, he has all of my disabilities. As I am a disabled circus artist and I know exactly how it would work.

So, Scar had always loved the circus ever since he was a little kid. It was just so magical and wonderous to him. He always sort of wished he could join the circus.

Then one day, around about 15, he realised there was a circus studio really close-by to him. Three, in fact. It blew his mind. Previously he sort of regarded circus as this mystical, out of reach thing. He had no idea it was just something he could learn and do.

For me, this is sort of where it splits into two separate veins of timelines. A) One in a Minecraft-inspired fantasy setting that has a casual interdimensional travel aspect to it (the one LMLY is set in, essentially) and consists of things like codes. And B) a modern AU of a Minecraft-inspired fantasy setting with no interdimensional travel (so no Hermitcraft or Life Series). It is a more normal fantasy world and does not consist of codes or players, it is people within it if that makes sense. We will call this A and B.

In A, he was a builder already. That was what he loved doing. As a result, he decided it would be better for his career if did not show that he was disabled. If you have read LMLY, you will understand.

Anyway, because of being a builder, he was already incredibly strong. His favourite part of circus at the beginning was being a base in acrobalance. It took him a while to get the right kind of strength for aerials, but once he did he quickly started to train doubles work.

The thing is, he knew that all of the things he was initially drawn to in circus just were not realistic for him to do. His first love in circus was flying trapeze, but he knew any sort of flips would just make him pass out. But in order for flying trapeze to work, you need a catcher.

He worked his butt off to be a catcher.

Most of the circus he ever did was group work, with him fulling the role of the base/catcher. He did not have the ability to do much else, it would just trigger his symptoms.

When he got to Hermitcraft he found himself a lot more symptomatic than ever before, even after he learnt how to accommodate himself better. It meant that his ability to go back to his home world and do circus was quite limited, almost entirely stopping after season 6.

I am jumping ahead quite a bit as otherwise it would reflect the planned plot for LMLY a bit too much, but during season 9 when he built Scarland he also began doing a lot more circus again. He was using mobility aids by that point and finally had enough energy to do it.

Which brings us to timeline B.

In timeline B, Scar's career goals involved being an imagineer. As a result, he handled being disabled a lot differently.

He always considered himself unfit as a child. He hated sports with a burning passion. He was also the sick kid, always. He was rarely ever at school, he struggled to make friends because he was never able to hang out, and any extracurriculars he signed up for he almost always ended up flaking out on.

Him realising he was disabled went quite similarly to timeline A. During his mid-teens, he realised he was actually Experiencing Something and not just lazy/unmotivated/all the things he had been told his whole life. Unlike timeline A, his plans for his life were not exactly something he felt as though he could not do as a mobility aid user.

It radically changed his life when he became a wheelchair user. For the first time, he was actually able to function and exist and it was the best thing ever. He had the energy to truly dedicate himself to his plans of becoming an imagineer.

The thing about circus is it appears in all sorts of places. In particular, amusement parks. At least in Australia where I live, which is the country this setting is most like anyway. Like in timeline A, Scar had always loved it as a kid. Especially when amusement parks he visited had circus performers during special festivals and things like that, it was just the coolest.

Scar had a problem with living a very sedentary lifestyle. It was not great before he got a wheelchair, due to him being bedridden often (not that he realised that was what it was at the time), but even worse afterwards. So his physio encouraged him to pursue a physical hobby.

Which is where he discovered that he had three circus studios near-by.

As much as he loved the circus, but did not exactly consider it a possibility. It was in the same category to him as like being a Jedi or something, actually being a circus performer just was not really real to him.

Calling him was excited was an understatement, to say the least.

Unlike timeline A, it was not a smooth journey. He was not really all that strong. He loved it all the same, but for the first year and a half of him doing circus, his progress was pretty stagnant.

Until he got on testosterone.

Did I forget to mention he is transgender? He is always transgender to me. (In timeline A he got his player code altered for the record. But he is the sort of genderfuck man where he thought his tits made him hot (because they do) and preferred a t-dick over a penis. Just in case people wanted to know.)

Anyway, one of the changes he was most looking forward to was the increase in strength. He was quite disappointed when after quite a few months he did not actually get that much stronger. He did get more muscles, but they did not really seem to work.

Then, suddenly, like 8 months in, well after he had given up hope, he suddenly was just a lot stronger.

It motivated him enough to really dedicate himself to his training.

In this timeline, he really did not like basing. He felt as though his body was just too unreliable to let himself trust others' wellbeing with it. He would, sometimes, just because he was a big boy (I maintain my headcanon that he is short, however. Vex hybrid.) but he never really liked it.

He really only did the things that he truly found passion in, as he had a limited amount of energy for his training.

I want to say that Scar still is an ambulatory wheelchair user after beginning to do circus. He uses his wheelchair so he has enough energy to do circus. For a while he felt really awkward about it, he did not want people from circus to know that he used a wheelchair and he did not want anyone who knew he used a wheelchair to know he did circus. But as he grew up a bit more, became an adult, he really stopped caring what others thought of him.

I suppose I should say my headcanons for what apparatuses he uses. I headcanon that he uses (static) trapeze, lyra mostly as his aerial apparatuses, although teardrop (also called hammock) has a special place in his heart. As for ground work, hula hooping and leviwand.

I am going to inform you of his journey in discovering these passions.

Right when he first began his training, he was really interested in drops. It drew him to silks, initially, but he just was not strong enough for it at the time.

He found himself then drawn to apparatuses like trapeze and lyra instead, as even with his limited strength at the time he still could do some tricks. He actually avoided verticals (silks and teardrop) for a long time, as they were just too strengthy for his tastes.

Especially with lyra, everything always looked so beautiful on lyra. It is the worst and most painful apparatus in the entire world (author bias, I hate lyra) but he was used to pain. Besides, everything in circus hurt. That was just how circus was. Even if lyra was a bit more painful than others. (It is the worst I hate it I hate it so much owie owie owie :[ <- does lyra for fun sometimes (Although I would never ever train it I am not crazy.))

Scar tried teardrop at one point and was beyond shocked at how little it hurt. He did not know an aerial apparatus could feel so gentle! (He thought this until he started trying wraps, and discovered the pinching was its own special kind of hell.)

He was excited, because with teardrop he could do drops like he had always wanted to. He trained up for it. Then, when his trainer deemed him strong enough, he tried his first ever drop. It was sort of like this, I am imagining, although I cannot find a video of what I actually mean. The point is he flipped over himself like that.

He discovered that his body just could not do it.

He was so dizzy after it it was a wonder he did not pass out while still up there.

He was absolutely crushed and heart broken, as that was the one thing he had always been so excited for. He figured he should have seen it coming, as he did not do tumbling for that exact reason, but he really had not.

Since he was not able to do the tricks he actually wanted to on verticals, he decided he was not going to do them. He did not for the longest time. (Although, eventually he began doing silks and teardrop every so often for the fun of it. He ended up really liking teardrop. While he never dedicated himself to training it enough that he felt he could perform it, he still just loved it.)

I will say that was a lot of what his initial bit into circus was. Discovering things he really wanted to do were just not things his body could handle. He really had to let go of a lot of things he wanted to do, and instead focus on what he could actually do. He found he really could not do all the dynamic tricks he really, really admired in others, but he found his own soft and gentle performing style that really worked for him.

It was difficult, but he grew to really like it in the end. It was very queer to him, being a man who performed in such elegant and graceful ways. So gender as well. It was not actually until he saw a man do a particularly beautiful straps performance (from which he wanted to do straps, but knew he never could) that he began to really appreciate his own circus style.

At least that is how it went with aerials.

Scar found he could do very little ground work. Hand balancing was what he was initially drawn to, but he quickly found that his wrists would dislocate every single time he tried. Same with acrobalance (In timeline A, he had enough muscles built up from being a builder he did not really run into that issue.) and tumbling. Tumbling also involved flipping and he just could not do it, his POTS would not allow him.

The groundwork he could do was primarily manipulation. He tried all sorts of different things. It actually took quite a while before he progressed in any of it, because he was splitting himself across too much.

Eventually, he picked hula hooping as his primary ground work. He loved it so much. It was just so much fun to him. He thought it was so cool to take this object most people were familiar with from their childhoods and do amazing tricks with it. Especially when he began performing it (which, I will get to in a minute) he felt as though it let the kids in the audience see something relatable amongst all the cool and crazy, and he hoped it inspired them to do some circus themselves.

Leviwand was his other favourite. (I actually just remembered I have one and I should probably train it more, as I can do that on my favourite ground work apparatus rolla bolla. Anyway.) He just thought it was the coolest thing. It looked like magic. It was just remarkable and so cool and literally just physics.

(Bonus: In versions of this where Scar did, in fact, have magic, he would absolutely do circus with it. I might talk about that another time.)

Now I wish to state a bit of his circus journey, in regards to it being a job. He did not ever intend for it to be, for a long time. He had about two months when he first started that he kind of wanted to turn it into one, but it was just a hobby really. It wasn't until he was in his early 20s (in university doing double architecture and engineering bachelors) he realised he could actually apply to do circus at an amusement park's seasonal event. He did. He got in. He got to perform and get paid for it.

He essentially stumbled his way into paid work. It was not long after that he was offered a position as a trainer at his circus studio (which, he had been living on the disability pension up until that point due to not being able to find a job that he could physically do).

Then he found himself putting his university course on pause for six months so he could tour with a big top circus.

I truly believe it was the most fun he ever had, but he realised he could not actually have that as a viable career option. He was not medically fit to drive, his body could not handle having to set up the tent and clean and all that maintenance stuff, and he really did not make that much money. Enough to survive, sure, if being disabled was not so expensive and if he did not already have student debt.

So he finished up his university course while working part-time as a circus trainer. Once he graduated, for a while he took up a more standard engineering job. Then he found his niche in applying his degrees to circus stuff, and actually ended up working for Cirque Du Soleil creating their insane sets.

While he was never a Cirque Du Soleil performer himself (Do you have any idea how insane their intake process is? He would not be qualified for it even if he somehow managed to pass the health checks. Not to mention, you audition for a chance to be contacted to be in a show. No way.) he was so, so excited that he got to make such amazing things happen.

He still was a casual performer, usually taking up gigs that just happened to come his way, or doing performances with circus studios he was with.

But it was remarkable to him how he got to combine his first love of being an imagineer with his second love of circus into such a beautiful thing. He could not get over it, he just loved what he did.

When it came to being a performer himself, he definitely used his architecture and engineering degrees for his own personal passion projects too. He always had some new idea for a new cool show, and found himself the head of many remarkable contemporary circus performances.

In particular, he had this whole superhero based play/musical/circus performance with drama and conflict and betrayal. It all began when started to consider how he could put his love for archery into a show and his friend misheard him saying, "Like Hawkeye," as "Like Hotguy." Then he joked about having his best friend (or lover, up to you) play the role of Hawkeye's rival-turned-lover Cuteguy, and the rest was history.

(I also have some circus Grian headcanons. As in, I think Scar dragged everyone he ever knew into circus. It did not stick for all of them, but Grian realised that since he was an Avian he could just do fun flying tricks and it was considered circus. He liked that. What made him love it was doing it with Scar, the way Scar would come up with a million crazy ideas and make brilliant performances. Scar's love for it really rubbed off on him, and he found himself doing the same.)

Anyway. The Hotguy play/musical/circus performance was Scar's baby. It was so fun and silly and camp, while also having these serious moments that really hurt you.

It actually got quite big, and he got to tour it.

Anyway.

I have run out of thoughts.

I just love circus and I love Scar.

[insertlovelyperson]

We talk about this in a disorganized way on here and on the server (and obviously some version of your hc is in your fic) but what do you think the counselors’ families are like? Whose parents are still married, divorced, dead? Who has siblings and who doesn’t? Who’s best friends with their siblings and who has major sibling rivalry?

Great ask! Really interesting to think about since we don’t get a whole lot of insight into the counselor’s families… 

Starting off with Ryan since he’s probably the one with the most info in game: absent mother (root of his abandonment/trust issues) and dead father. In his conversation with Chris about animation school (unless I’m mistaken) Ryan mentions his mom but not his dad: “Whether or not I should like, leave my sister with my grandparents… and my mom’s not exactly around so…” I just don’t think he’d be worried about leaving his sister with his grandparents and not his mother if she was still present in his life. And the fact that he doesn’t even mention his dad suggests to me that the man probably died when he was younger, and might be the reason he latches onto Chris as sort of a surrogate father-figure. I think he’d have a good relationship with his sister before camp (outside of standard sibling squabbles), but after the night everything goes down, it becomes strained for a couple of years.

Next, onto a head canon partially brought on by the cut-content leaks: Abi’s parents are divorced (and she’s a middle child of three girls—but that’s just me). It was a nasty divorce the resulted in a split-custody agreement for alternating weeks. She preferred staying at her dad’s house because her mom liked her older sister more than her. And while her dad likes her little sister more, he wasn’t as obvious with the favoritism (that, and she actually has a good relationship with her little sister).

In a somewhat similar vein: Nick is the youngest of three boys that were all born within one or two years of each other. And similar to Abi, he often feels like his parents (happily married, unlike hers) prefer them over him. Maybe the eldest is some star, prodigy athlete and the second eldest is this genius that ends up being valedictorian. And Nick’s just… Nick. And it’s not his brothers’ fault that he feels this way, or even their parent’s favoritism, but he can’t help but resent them a little for it (maybe not helped by the fact the first girl he ever dated broke up with him and started dating his brother, and then his entire extended family made him feel like the crazy one for being upset by that). I could see him making an AITA post on reddit about it and then going no-contact for a year.

Jacob is the baby of the family. I see him having an older sister (older by 7+ years) and a single mom. And while he rolls his eyes and bemoans all the ‘nagging,’ he wouldn’t change it for anything.

Laura strikes me as someone who has an authoritative father and a mother that grins and bears it. And while she loves her mom, she can’t help but sometimes resent her for not sticking up for us. When she’s old enough, she leaves and never looks back. Meanwhile: Max is an only child with a great relationship with his parents. When Laura moves out, she moves in with them and they treat her like their own daughter (in law).

Emma is also an only child, but unlike Max, she has a less than stellar relationship with her parents. I feel like her mom and dad would be really devoted to their work, and while it earns them an extremely comfortable (and wealthy) lifestyle, she can’t help but feel like an afterthought sometimes. That being said, it doesn’t stop them from being overbearing when she needs it the least, and without any siblings to help shoulder the burden that that attention brings... its like a pendulum swinging from each extreme: suffocation or isolation.

I feel like I switch up Dylan’s family dynamic with each new WIP I start. In the first (very, very canon divergent) fic I ever wrote, it was an absent mother and a present (but emotionally distant) father. And while that interpretation is very near and dear to my heart, I feel like it’s not really cognizant of the canon version of him. To me, he grew up in a small town in the midwest as the only child of a pastor. He was in the church choir, attended every bible study, and told everyone who’d listen that he planned on being a youth minister. He was even in the Boy Scouts!  As soon as he turned eighteen, he packed a bag, took his cat, and left his parents a note with some things he thought they ought to know about him. He’s pretty sure they never bothered looking for him after that. He thinks they might’ve even told people he’d died.

Kaitlyn is the oldest of four (all brothers), and she has a pretty solid relationship with both parents. Her mom’s a mechanic at a local auto body shop that taught her how to shoot, and her dad’s a mild mannered accountant. She loves them all more than anything (though, she’s the closest with her dad). 

In conclusion, Kaitlyn and Max @ everyone else: