#anyways this is ridiculous and messy but hope u enjoyed it anyways <3

[itsjaywalkers]

omg laurie!! prompt game!!!!!! can i get 93: “I tried, but I just can’t stay away from you anymore" ? pretty plssss ily

hi dil my darling <333 and of course you can!! anything for u and ur delicious brain!! i kinda went overboard with this one too, and it's . very messy bc i wrote half of it drunk but . i hope u enjoy it anyway <3

93. "I tried, but I just can't stay away from you anymore."

Regulus splashes some water on his face, careful not to ruin the very light makeup Pandora put on him. It’s barely noticeable, really, but he thinks it looks nice, taking some of his paleness away and making him look more alive. Almost like he’s glowing.

He didn’t like it much, at first. Pandora had been true to her word and hadn’t done anything too drastic, but Regulus could still tell the difference. His face wasn’t his face, and he hadn't been able to look his reflection in the eye for more than a handful of seconds.

After a few drinks, though, his perspective has shifted a little. He had caught sight of his face on the glass doors that give way to Sirius’ balcony about an hour ago, and his first thought had been ‘pretty’. It might have been the alcohol talking, or the fact that the room had begun to spin slightly.

Regulus refused to believe that it had something to do with the heavy gaze he could feel from the other side of the room. The eyes following every single one of his movements with such intensity it had felt like a touch.

He closes his eyes tight. No, he isn’t gonna go down that path. Regulus has learnt his lesson, and it had brought him nothing before. Except shame, except disappointment.

Heartbreak.

He’s done with that shit. Regulus has come to the party to see his brother, now that they’re trying to spend more time together, and to have fun with his friends. There’s this one really sweet guy at work who he’s been talking to more than usual and agreed to hang out with, and he’s recently moved to a flat all on his own. It’s small, but cute, and more than enough for him. And more importantly, it’s his.

Things are finally looking up, and there’s no place for warm brown skin and dimpled smiles. Not unless it’s from afar, a safe and respectable distance that doesn’t put any ridiculous ideas in Regulus’ brain. Hope has never done him any favours, and he’s had enough of—

A knock on the door pulls him out of his daze and makes him jump a little.

Regulus blinks at his reflection, eyes sliding to the door he can see right behind him. His mouth parts in a tiny sigh.

“Just a moment,” he exclaims, drying his hands as fast as possible.

There’s a pause.

And then.

“Regulus.”

He freezes up on the spot, hands still holding the towel and shoulders going stiff. Regulus can hear his own heart rumbling inside his mind, the breath he was about to take completely stuck in his throat.

There’s no way. He must have heard wrong. He must have mistaken the voice, even though it’s one he's sure he knows like the palm of his hand.

It’s probably his brother, who’s worried about how long he’s been gone. Or Pandora. Maybe even Barty, trying to get him to dance once again, or simply looking for some company, if he and Evan have gotten into a fight. Again.

“Regulus, c’mon,” the voice speaks up again, sounding even clearer now. “I know you’re in there. Can you open up, please?”

A wave of nausea assaults his body, and Regulus grips the sink, not knowing if the sudden sickness is due to an excess of alcohol or to the person insistently knocking on the door.

There's no way. There's no way.

He glances at his reflection once again, not surprised to find a look of absolute horror twisting his face.

"Regulus, please."

Fuck. This might be his worst nightmare.

He takes a deep breath and finally pushes away from the mirror, taking step after step towards the door. Surprisingly, he barely hesitates, only stopping for a couple of seconds before he grabs the handle and opens wide, schooling his expression into something he hopes looks neutral. Indifferent.

James Potter stands in front of him in all his glory. He's wearing a short-sleeved shirt with the tackiest print Regulus has ever seen in his life, but the fact that it's unbuttoned to almost his navel distracts from this fact, and forces people to focus on hard muscle and brown skin. His baggy jeans wrap around his thighs in a way that should be illegal, and his shoes, despite being old and battered, manage to look charming.

He can't even turn his nose up at them. After so many years, Regulus is nearly as attached to James' red converse as the other man must be.

"Sorry, I was just leaving," Regulus begins, stuttering a little over his words. "You can—"

James is pushing in and closing the door behind him before Regulus has the chance to finish. There's the tell-tale click of the lock, and he gulps, taking a nervous step back as his eyes search James' face. He's unable to read the other boy, too many emotions flunctuating in his expression, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

"What are you—?" Regulus attempts to ask, after a beat of silence, the quiet feeling heavy and suffocating.

"I'm sorry, I just—" James cuts him off, a bit breathless. "I saw you get in here, and I couldn't help myself. I wanted—I needed to talk to you."

Regulus squirms, retreating even further, until the small of his back touches the sink and he leans into it.

"Okay," he mumbles, feigning an indifference he's never felt around James. "What is it?"

James' jaw clenches and unclenches so many times Regulus loses count after the fifth.

"It's just—I'm not—" the other man tries, leaving sentence after sentence hanging. He pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose, exhales softly. "You look good."

Now, this definitely isn't how Regulus expected the conversation to go.

"What?" he wheezes out, happy that the sink is sturdy enough to support his weight. He's sure he'd be on the floor otherwise.

The corners of James' mouth twitch, and Regulus gulps. There's still a certain air of restlessness in the line of his shoulders, but his features seem to have relaxed considerably, after noticing Regulus' flustered state.

Arrogant prick.

"You look good," James repeats, less tentative. "Really good, in fact. I don't think I've ever seen that shirt before. Is it Sirius'?"

"Dorcas'," Regulus corrects absentmindedly, pinching his hip distractedly, certain that he must be hallucinating.

James rarely gives him the time of day, unless he's hanging out with Sirius. This might be the longest they've spoken in all month.

Seriously, what the actual fuck is happening right now?

"Ah." James nods, taking another step forward and reaching out. Regulus tries to retreat, again, but there's nowhere to go, so he ends up attempting to merge into the sink. It does nothing, though, and James is tugging at the hem of the mesh top a second later. "I'll have to thank her, then. It really suits you."

"James, what do you want?"

The other man tilts his head, fingers still caressing the garment, eyes flicking up and down Regulus' torso and making him repress a shudder. He must not do a good job, however, because James' face is splitted into a grin when he raises his head and their gazes meet.

"Are you—" James starts, blinking furiously. They're so close, Regulus catches the exact moment his pupils dillate. "Is that makeup?"

Regulus flushes a vibrant red and looks away, fingers digging painfully into the marble of the sink.

"A little," he admits, hating how small he sounds. "Dora convinced me to put some before we left."

"Fuck," James murmurs, a bit awed. "It's so pretty. You're so—"

"James," Regulus interrupts him harshly. It's one thing to hear a compliment about his clothes, or the soft eyeshadow Pandora put on him, and another to hear James—Yeah, no. He wouldn't be able to take it. "Seriously, what do you want?"

The other man finally lets go of the top and leans impossibly nearer, caging Regulus in between his arms. James' hands rest so close to Regulus' on the sink he can feel their warmth.

"Have you heard of personal space?" Regulus asks, tone too high-pitched for his tastes. He has his eyes fixed on the closed door, heart rattling against his ribcage.

Surprisingly, James mumbles an apology and leans back slightly. He's still absurdidly close, but Regulus can breathe better now.

There's a beat of silence. Regulus thinks he's about to jump out of his skin.

"You said you wanted to talk," he reminds the other man, shifting under the scrutiny. "So, talk."

"I know, I just—I'm not sure about where to start, or how to explain this, I—" James huffs loudly, wrinkles appearing on his forehead. "I shouldn't even be here in the first place, but I—I couldn't help myself. I've been behaving, I swear I have, but you—you look so fucking gorgeous, and you kept laughing with Crouch, and I—"

Regulus raises a hand, halting James' rambling, the dizziness so strong he's about ready to keel over.

"Wait," he gasps, chest heaving. "Wait. I don't understand. What is—What are you saying right now?"

James smiles, fond, and he chuckles softly. "I think you know."

"No." Regulus shakes his head slowly, not sure if he wants to laugh, or cry, or even scream. "You can't—no. You don't know what you're doing right now. You're probably drunk—"

"I've only had a couple of beers."

"Then I'm drunk."

James laughs openly at this, loud and unrestrained, and Regulus bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from beaming at the other man.

"C'mon, I've been watching you nurse the same drink for the last couple of hours. And I wouldn't have approached you otherwise, I'm not that kind of—" James trails off, and when the silence extends for a few seconds too long, Regulus dares to take a little peek.

What he sees almost kills him.

James' gaze is zeroed on Regulus' mouth, pupils so wide you can barely notice the iris. His own lips are slightly parted, and the air seems to be caught in his throat.

Regulus swallows harshly.

"James," he whispers. He thinks it might be a plead.

The other man exhales shakily, but he doesn't snap out of the trance he seems to have fallen in. Not completely.

"Such a terrible habit," James murmurs, almost to himself. "You do it all the damn time, did you know? When you're nervous, when you're thinking hard. When you don't want to let others see you smile. I wish you'd stop. I wish you'd stop, because I'm not supposed to—"

James doesn't even bother finishing talking. One of his hands leaves the sink and hovers a few centimetres away from Regulus' cheek, as if waiting for permission. A shiver runs down his spine, but Regulus doesn't say anything, eyes running away from the other man's and body completely still.

After a moment, James' hand settles on the side of his jaw.

He's warm, he's so fucking warm, and Regulus represses a very embarrassing noise at the last moment, the sound already in the tip of his tongue. He isn't quick enough, however, to stop himself from leaning against the contact.

"You're bound to end up drawing blood at this rate," James continues, sounding a bit odd, like he's out of it. "You ought to be more careful."

Regulus has so many questions. James has never glanced his way twice, least of all in this way. The way that used to be reserved for Lily Evans during the first few years of school, the way that it's now usually directed at whatever person James fancies at the moment, or at whatever stranger he's trying to get in his bed.

James isn't interested in Regulus. Never has been, and with Regulus' luck, never will be. He's just Sirius' little brother. Or at least, that's all he's always been to James.

The other man used to tease him sometimes, about his very obvious childhood crush. It made Regulus blush, both in anger and shame, and yell insult after insult at James' smirking face.

But then Regulus grew up, he made his own friends and stopped spending so much time with his older brother and his mates. He learnt how to hide his crush a lot better, promised Sirius he had gotten over it, and moved on with his life. It had helped, that James had begun to keep his distance, and that he seemed to find Regulus so fucking irrelevant they barely exchanged a couple of cordial words whenever they saw each other.

He has no idea of what's changed. Why James has suddenly decided he wants Regulus now.

Because he wants Regulus. There's no mistaking that hunger in his eyes. That need.

He's sure it's reflected in his own expression.

Regulus opens his mouth slightly, unsure of what he wants to say, of which of his dozens of questions he'd like to ask, when James' thumb slides over his lower lip.

He can't stop himself this time. Regulus lets out a quiet whimper, and James smiles lazily at him, still transfixed with Regulus' mouth. He follows the shape of his lip slowly and with care, the touch feather-light but very much there.

What he does next, Regulus can only blame on the alcohol, on the haze he can feel clouding his mind. He parts his mouth wider and tilts his head forward, until James' thumb slips inside and he can trap it between his teeth.

James hums, pressing even deeper, until the pad of his thumb is rubbing against Regulus' tongue, the message clear. Any remnants of sanity fly out the window after that, and Regulus doesn't even doubt for a single second before he's sucking the finger into his mouth.

He laps at the skin, teases at it with the edge of his teeth, and even hollows his cheeks slightly as he bobs his head, putting on a goddamn show for James. James, who sways forwards, as if possessed, until his mouth is nearly pressed to the back of his slick thumb, practically breathing into Regulus' lips.

James glues their bodies together, and Regulus moans softly at the feeling of the other man's half-hard cock pressing against his stomach.

"Fuck," James pants, eye fluttering shut momentarily. "Fuck. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I promised I wouldn't but—shit, I tried, but I just can't stay away from you anymore."

Regulus makes an inquisitive noise, not understanding what James is saying, what he's referring to, too lost on the weight on his mouth and the taste of James' skin on his tongue. But the other man simply shakes his head, pressing a heated kiss on his jaw, and suddenly there isn't any confusion inside Regulus' mind, just a pleasing and calming static.

"Fuck, Reg, baby, can I—can I just—" James wonders aloud, in a rush, breathing gone all wrong and erratic.

Regulus is nodding before his brain even has the chance to send the order, rubbing his own erection against James' and eliciting a pained groan.

A moment later, James is taking the thumb out of his greedy mouth and exchanging it for his tongue, licking behind Regulus' teeth like a man starved.

Regulus can't do anything else but take it, tangling their tongues together and allowing James to explore, to fucking devour him in what is more an attempt at consumption than an actual kiss.

They move against each other, unable to find a proper rhythm on their desperation, open mouths taking taking taking. Regulus buries his hands on messy strands and pulls, and James takes a hold of his ass, groping and kneading and dragging more obscene noises out of him. He pushes and urges him and—

"James, babe? You okay in there?"

The other man doesn't stop, he doesn't even falter; in fact, Regulus isn't even sure he heard it.

Regulus, though. He stiffens. He goes completely rigid, because he knows that voice. He knows the girl it belongs to.

It takes James a little to catch up, to realise Regulus isn't reciprocating anymore, but when he does, he pulls away, a frown twisting his features and gentle hands prodding at Regulus. He's so careful, even now, but what had made Regulus melt before, now only manages to make him sick.

"What's wrong?" James questions softly, and oh, the audacity is almost enough to make him laugh.

"I'm afraid you're needed elsewhere," Regulus tells him, somehow being able to sound even, instead of wrecked.

James looks confused for a painful moment, and then it seems to dawn on him. He has the decency to look guilty, at least.

"Listen, Reg, I—"

"You told me, weeks ago, that it was over. That you two had broken up for good."

"And it is! We are!" James insists, but deflates the moment Regulus glares pointedly at him. "Well, I mean, not exactly, but it's not—it's just very complicated—"

This time, Regulus does laugh. "Oh, I bet it is. But it's okay, James, you can save it. I don't want your fucking excuses. I want you to get out, and leave me alone."

James looks nothing short of devastated at this, and Regulus pretends the sight doesn't completely break his heart.

Good. Now you know how it feels.

"Regulus—"

James reaches out again, wanting to touch, but Regulus flinches, and his hand falls back at his side, the hurt on his expression almost unbearable.

"Get the fuck out," Regulus spits, eyes cold and filled with what he hopes looks like hatred.

James glances pleadingly at him, but Regulus doesn't give in, refuses to give in, and after a tense moment, he lowers his head and turns around, exiting the toilet.

Regulus is just glad he's able to hold his ground until the door closes once more. He can't think of anything worse than James seeing him break down.

[snickerdoodlles]

more assassin AU hot off the press for @jemmo. we’ll make it thru ep12 somehow my friend ❤❤

dimples can always lie (series tag); Pt.3, 1300w, rated T 02: “We just stopped a homicide. Congratulations?” (prompt list)

Wai’s just finished settling on the couch when he hears a key unlock Pran’s front door. “Hey!” he shouts, because letting Pran speculate on who might’ve entered his home while he was out is a mistake someone only ever makes once. “News says you stopped a homicide. Congratulations!”

He barely manages to duck in time to avoid a knife from burying itself into his skull. His strangled yelp is barely louder than the heavy thunk of the knife embedding itself into the wall behind where his head used to be. He peeks over his bowl of noodles warily just in time to see Pran storm past his living room and up the stairs.

Wai turns to Pat, who’s hanging up their bags and keys by the door. “What the hell?” Wai demands, aggrieved. “You’d think I’d interrupted his knitting again.” (Another mistake someone only ever makes once.)

Pat presses his lips together to hide his smile. Dick. “Did the news say who Pran saved?”

Wai shakes his head. “Nope. They blurred out his face though, so I’m guessing he’s someone important?”

“Of course they did,” Pat mutters with a roll of his eyes. “Paramej Chueamanee.”

Wai and Pat blink at each other expectantly. “Yeah,” Wai drawls, “Whoever they are, they’re too classy to have mob connections.”

“...Petrochemicals. Human rights violator. Constantly pays fines for the workers that die--”

“Ohhh.” Wai snaps his fingers. “That guy with the factory issues Pran bitched about last month?”

Pat just stares at Wai, unimpressed. “You know what, sure, close enough. That’s him.”

Wai rolls his eyes. Just because Pat and Pran keep mental lists of Thailand’s richest assholes and politicians to fuck over doesn’t mean the rest of them do. Wai has plenty enough to memorize with just the mafia and majia-adjacent networks, thank you very much.

“Why’d he even save him?”

Pran stomps back in with a thundercloud over his head and his long standing knitting project in his arms. “I would never,” Pran mutters. His fingers flex reflexively. Pat, a far braver fool than Wai, kisses Pran’s forehead on his way to the kitchen and the storm brewing around him calms, just a bit. “I thought the gunman was going for Pat.”

Wai whistles. “That’s rough.” For Pran and the poor gunman. Wai frowns. “But the news didn’t say anyone had died?”

Pran throws down his knitting project--and ooh, he’s even more pissed off than Wai first expected, because that’s the Murder Scarf. Wai slurps down another bite of noodles and subtly scoots away from Pran.

(The Murder Scarf had started after one of Pran’s first botched hits. They’d had to hide in a dumpster behind one of those terrible chain craft stores and had somehow wound up with a ball of cheap red yarn finding its way into Pran’s bag. He and Wai had taken the bus home and since knife throwing isn’t an option when they’re in public, Pran had started knitting to ease his irritation. By the time they’d gotten home, the shitty ball of yarn had become the start of a scarf and Pran had a new plan--one he enacted the next day with vengeance, terrifying precision, and more knives than Wai knew a person could carry--and the Murder Scarf was borne. It’s since grown over the years from a red twenty centimeter block to a trailing riot of colors and shitty scrap yarn several meters long. Anytime the Murder Scarf makes an appearance, bodies will fall.)

Pran sneers and checks his gleaming knitting needles. “I didn’t kill the gunman,” he says shortly. “I realized he wasn’t there for us right as I started moving, but then it was too late. Someone else was screaming about the gun and if we didn’t take him down, Paramej’s security would have killed him.”

“Oof,” Wai mutters with a wince. He sucks some sauce off his chopsticks thoughtfully as Pran flops down with an angry huff.

“Sooo,” he mumbles around his chopsticks, only getting a grunt from Pran. He pulls out his chopsticks and clicks them together. “…Why are you so upset?” Pran looks up darkly and Wai hunches behind his noodles defensively. “I’m just saying, you look like someone ripped up one of Pat’s sweaters! Not your typical response to saving someone’s life!”

Pat walks back in carrying a bottle of wine and three glasses. “Paramej offered Pran a job.”

Wai straightens. “He knows who you are?!”

Pat’s shaking his head before Wai even finishes his sentence. “Not that kind of job. A manager’s job.”

Wai frowns and stares between them, baffled, for a minute before it clicks and Wai chokes.

“He asked you to work for him?! In the company?!” he wheezes as he pounds his chest and hacks up bits of noodle.

Pran’s thunder cloud darkens. “All important men have enemies. When you get to my position, it becomes vital to surround yourself with those you can trust,” he mimics in a growl. “Heaven forbid killing your workers has consequences.” Pran goes back to knitting, needles clicking furiously. At the rate he’s going, Chang might not even have enough time to set up the betting pool before Paramej drops dead.

Wai pounds his chest to get the last bit of noodle out of his lungs and Pat passes him a glass of wine. “Thanks,” Wai wheezes and nods gratefully. Pat smiles, like moonlight on water, and pours Pran a new glass. Then Wai takes a sip and--

Wai gags. “Is this Barolo?” he demands, smacking his lips together to try to deal with the taste. Pat snickers. “Asshole. You know I’m eating noodles with Auntie Dissaya’s special sauce!”

Pat just shrugs as he puts down Pran’s glass in front of him, finishing off the gesture with another soothing kiss to the top of Pran’s head. He smiles at Wai unrepentantly and pours himself a glass before he settles into the seat across from Wai. “It’s one of our special wines. We picked it up on a job in Italy four years ago exactly.” Pat looks up, dark eyes wide. “We’re sharing anniversary wine with you because we love you.”

Gross. “You’re so full of shit,” Wai mutters against the rim of his glass before he takes a big defiant swig. Ugh. The inside of his mouth now tastes like bad bitter melon, or sour grapefruit, but fuck Pat, Wai will drink that whole bottle of shitty anniversary wine if he wants to go there.

The corners of Pat’s eyes tighten, but he hides most of his irritation behind an appraising sniff of his wine. Wai stares him down and takes another swallow.

“Why are you even here?” Pat mutters.

Wai shrugs and turns his attention back to the news, which is running another segment on Pran’s rescue, but this time with a statement from that Paramej guy. “Ran out of food. Coming here was faster.”

“The grocer is literally a block away from your apartment,” Pat says flatly.

“Yeah, but they don’t have cooked leftovers.” Wai looks between his noodles--also known as: Pat’s favorite meal--and Pat, and grins meanly. “And it’s free.” Pat glares back and Wai snickers. “Just remember that even if you take away my key, I know how to pick locks.”

“You’re such a vulture. I’m going to stuff you full of garbage next time I see you.”

“Oi.” Wai barks as he points his chopsticks at Pat, “Don’t insult us scavengers Pat. Waste disposal is a vital part of our ecosystem!”

Pran snorts, the first sound they’ve heard from him in the last five minutes, and pauses his knitting long enough to raise his glass. “I’ll drink to that,” he says, eyes glittering darkly as he glares at Paramej Chueamanee on the tv screen.

Wai doubts the bastard will make it past the week.

[jkstompers]

don’t go | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: you and jungkook were simply roommates, nothing more than that. no matter how much you wanted to get to know him, jungkook always left before you were able to get any deeper than two weeks into his past. 

word count: 3.3K 

genre: roommates, established friendship, hidden feelings, angst, slight fluff

warnings: none! :) (except maybe some typos...ignore that...haha...)

author’s note: yes hi hello! i’m so sorry i haven’t posted in so long AND I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS FIC THE DAY AFTER VALENTINES UGH!! I’M SLACKING, I’M SORRY!! i’ve been writing but i don’t have the motivation to finish and ugh it’s a mess in my brain right now. this fic i was able to finish though! hopefully u enjoy it ♡(ŐωŐ人) please let me know what u think! sorry again for being so inactive T口T. 

side note: this is how i imagined jungkook in this fic! his pink sweater and long hair (╯°▽°)╯ ┻━┻ .crying. 

also banner picture cred: here <3

“welcome home roomie! how was your month long vacation from me this time?” you greet jungkook when he walks into the kitchen for breakfast. he just came back last night from one of his month long rendezvous that occur way too often in your opinion. jungkook would disappear and reappear every other week or so. he never told you where he went and you never really found yourself dedicated enough to find out. 

“fun,” he answers flatly, “and to be specific, it was only two weeks.” he clarifies the time he spent away, sitting down at the island and surveying the food you laid out. you outdid yourself this morning, an array of different breakfast foods. “you made all of this?” 

you nod, “they were about to go bad, so you better finish all of it.” 

he sends you a half smile, teetering on a smirk as he takes the plate you hand him. “you doing anything today?” he asks. his fork stabs through two pancakes and moves them to his plate, shoveling bacon and eggs onto there as well. 

“on this fine sunday? sadly, no, just some homework i need to finish.” you sigh, taking a sip from your glass of water. your seat is to the right of jungkook, at the head of the island. it’s now that you really take your time to look at him. his morning look in all it’s glory. a face swollen and hair messy in the cutest way. it wasn’t fair that he was attractive during times when you’re supposed to look unattractive. his hair has grown a little longer since you last saw him, the ends of his hair touching the apples of his cheeks now. speaking of his cheeks, he stuffs them full of food and chews, his eyes wandering around the apartment until he makes contact with yours. catching you staring. 

he swallows, bringing his glass of water to his lips before speaking again, “my face that interesting to you?” the question comes with a piece of pancake on his fork, offering it to you.  

like a reflex, you open your mouth to accept the pancake. but you scrunch your nose at the remark he made, “you look different.” 

the statement is meant to be innocent, speaking of the way his hair is a little longer and how you notice a new tattoo gracing his arm. but jungkook seems to take it a little deeper, your words ringing in his head. different? does that mean you look at him different? is he prettier now? uglier? what do you mean by that? 

“do you want to go grocery shopping later?” he asks. hoping you didn’t notice the long pause he took to overthink. 

“sure,” you shrugged. a small bubble of excitement forming in your stomach. “we’re out of ice cream anyway.” you try to carry a nonchalant reaction when nods. 

when the two of you finished filling your bellies, jungkook helped you wash the dishes and clean everything up. the feeling of having him around makes you feel at ease. you wish it was like this more often. for the past two years jungkook had been your roommate, he paid his dues, cleaned his messes, and kept you company from time to time. when he wasn’t there (which was ⅔ of the time) it didn’t feel right. it would feel colder in the apartment, even if the heater was turned up. just...empty. sometimes you wished his socks or hoodies were left lying around the apartment for you to pick up and bicker with him about. rather, he cleaned every spot, no laundry to pick up, no spills to wipe, nothing. leaving no signs that he lived here at all. 

“nap for a little bit and then we’ll go?” jungkook asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. you nod, telling him to wake you up when it was time to go. 

you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. your eyes open to see jungkook in front of you, pink sweater and black hair, contrasting perfectly in the sun that’s shining through your window. “let’s go now,” he says. 

you nod, getting up from your bed and stretching as you walk over to your closet, grabbing a sweater to wear. jungkook offers to drive, you sit in the passenger seat, mind focused on what you had to buy for the house. you make it to the store and grab a cart, jungkook following behind you, “do you need anything?” you ask. 

“some shampoo and conditioner,” he answers. you nod, moving to the bath section and waiting as jungkook chooses his items. the rest of the trip consists of you and jungkook asking each other if you needed said thing for the apartment. “we have to get more blankets,” he declares as you pass the home goods section, grabbing a fluffy blanket.

you scold him, “we have too many blankets, put it back.” he presses his lips into a tight line, showing his dissatisfaction. you both continue to walk around a little longer, moving to the food section. “see, this is what we need!” you pull out the cookie dough tub. 

“dough?” he snorts, taking a look at the bucket as you hold it. 

“it’s ready to eat cookie dough! no salmonella for us!” you smile, dropping it into your cart. jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, you knew he wanted the cookie dough too, you were just taking one for the team. 

walking a little further into the food section, jungkook taps your shoulder, pointing to the other side of the freezers. “ice cream?” 

“oh, yeah,” you nod, pushing the cart that way. you pull the vanilla ice cream out and place it in the cart, jungkook furrows his eyebrows. 

“vanilla? out of all the flavors here? really?” he stares at you, a serious look on his face. you can’t help but start laughing, his face breaks, a small smile appearing on his face but he tries to get back to a serious expression. 

“it’s good! and you can eat it with the cookie dough,” you reason. jungkook rolls his eyes, you always seem to find a way to stump him, he can never argue with you for too long, you’re just too good of a talker. he takes out a mint chocolate tub from the freezer. you don’t say anything but your face scrunches, visibly disapproving.

“don’t start, i will argue for mint chocolate until the store closes.” he warns. you decide to stay quiet, a smile cemented on your face as you make it to check out. the rest of the trip goes smoothly from there, picking up some food on the way home and then making it back to the apartment. 

the two of you decide to do some things on your own when you got home. jungkook had to clean his room and do some laundry while you had to finish your homework. a period of comfortable silence fills the apartment, unlike the cold silence that you were terribly used to. you couldn’t have felt any more content than how you feel now. 

a few hours pass before jungkook finishes his chores, you were finished with your work and were now scheduling your next week. he peeks his head into your room, coughing to get your attention. your head turns at the sound, “movie?” he suggests. 

you smile, standing from your desk. the two of you travel to the couch and plop down on the seats, your hand reaching out to the coffee table for the remote. “which one?” you ask, turning the tv on and clicking random buttons that bring you to netflix. 

“that blue one, with the blonde.” he points as you scroll through the selections. 

“mamma mia?” you snort. 

“looks interesting,” he shrugs. unfolding the blanket and splaying it over the both of you. the first fifteen minutes of the movie plays before both you and jungkook start getting hungry. a rock, paper, scissors game ensues to figure out who’s gonna get up to get the snacks. you lose, 2 to 1. 

you grumble, pulling the warm blanket off of you and moving to the kitchen. taking a bag of chips out, some candy that you had in the pantry, and then the tub of ready to eat cookie dough out of the fridge. the weight of it proving you to be one of the weakest human beings. the tub practically slams onto the counter. the lid once again proving that your strength was not that of thor’s. “jungkook!” you shout from the kitchen. 

“what?” he yells back. 

you try once more to pry the lid open, but to no avail. so you shout once again, “help me open the cookie dough!” 

you hear jungkook groan, but nevertheless he comes into the kitchen, his face silently asking what you need him to do. you show him that the lid is basically stuck and he takes it from you, trying to take the top off but he seems to struggle as well. “here, you hold and i pull,” he suggests, holding onto the lid as you hold onto the bucket part. something told you this wasn’t going to work, maybe you should have left it out to thaw first before you tried to open it. 

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would look ridiculous, but the cookie dough gives after a minute or so of pulling. the effort makes both you and jungkook stumble onto the kitchen floor. both of your laughs overlapping each other. you hold the cookie dough, “let’s stay here first, i’m tired.” your breathing is exaggerated to add effect. 

he grins, moving to grab two spoons before sitting down next to you, against the cabinets on the floor. he sticks the two spoons into the cookie dough, the two of you start digging in. “you know what would be perfect with this right now?” jungkook sits up, standing again and moving to the freezer. you raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s got in mind. “your vanilla ice cream,” he pulls the tub out. 

“and to think you were making fun of me in the store for it,” you narrow your eyes, taking the ice cream from him. jungkook stands above you, smiling at the way you remain on the ground instead of going back to the couch in the living room. nevertheless, he joins you with his spoon in hand. 

he watches as you scoop from the container, over exaggerating a shiver when you put it in your mouth. “cold?” he asks, but you shake your head. he looks over to your arm, your goosebumps raising. “liar,” he snorts, taking off his hoodie and handing it to you. 

you give him a puzzled look, “i can just get my own—” 

“just take it,” he cuts you off, throwing the jacket into your arms. secretly, you smile to yourself, throwing the hoodie over your head and sliding it on. it smells just like him, an overbearing scent that you’ve found comforting these days. a sudden warmth rushes over you. 

the sound of the tv is in the background of your conversation, but you only pay attention to jungkook, the man who’s digging into your vanilla ice cream and feeding it to you. “you like feeding your roommates or something?” you mumble as you eat the cold cream. 

he shakes his head, a smile on his face. “you’re the first roommate i’ve had.” 

you raise your eyebrows, “like ever?” he nods. “makes sense, you don’t know proper roommate etiquette, because you’re never here,” you snort. it was a joke, but it was true. you were projecting your upset through the statement. he is never here, and you just wanted to know why. did he not like being around you? is he just using this place to shower and store his things? was that it? 

jungkook doesn’t reply to your remark. completely disregarding it when he speaks again, “yeah, i’ve lived on my own before i moved in here, i moved around a lot.” 

“why?” you ask. jungkook never answered ‘why’ questions. always said that it was never your business, that you were always so nosy. 

but this time he sighs, “not really sure.” his spoon stabbing into the cookie dough, scraping the sides for the softer dough. “never really had a reason to stay.” 

that was the most you’ve ever heard from him. no matter how much you wanted to ask why he stayed here, why he stayed with you. you knew that maybe it was pushing a little too far. one question at a time, baby steps, you tell yourself. 

but you couldn’t help but think— wish that you could be a reason to make him stay. 

“must be tiring,” you comment, taking a scoop of dough for yourself. he doesn’t reply after that, instead just smearing some of the dough on your cheek and nose. a gasp leaves your throat, wiping the stickiness from your face and transferring it to his. “you’re gonna give me acne,” you groan. 

“oh relax, i’ll help you wash it off.” he smiles as he stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. he sets the ice cream on the counter, you copy with the cookie dough. both of you travelling to the sink to wash your hands and your faces. jungkook dries his face off and stands by, watching as you splash water on your face. you miss a spot on your cheek, which he helps you wipe off. his thumb coming up and swiping against the dough. his hand is warm, if it were there any longer, you would have leaned into his touch. 

after you both dried your faces off, you both agreed that you’ve consumed enough cookie dough and ice cream for the night. after returning them to the fridge, you make your way back to the couch. the movie almost over, nearing the ending scenes when you sit down. jungkook chooses another movie, legally blonde. “lots of blonde today, thinking of bleaching your hair?” you joke, throwing a blanket on the both of you. 

“you read my mind.” he gasps sarcastically. 

another comfortable silence falls in between you both, the sound of elle woods speaking replaces your conversation with each other. you turn and watch as jungkook’s focus remains solely on the tv. you lean back into the couch, smiling to yourself. there was a bittersweet feeling to this moment. you were happy that jungkook was here, but something felt off. you felt yourself getting lonely. you feel this way every time jungkook is about to leave, it’s like you have a warning signal. like that one time last year where jungkook left for two months, december and january, the two most festive months of the year. you were out buying christmas decorations when you felt something inside of you grow cold. it’s when you got in your car that you saw his text. 

[7:58 pm] jungkook: *jeon jungkook has sent you $1,000* 

[7:58 pm] jungkook: ^^ for rent

[8:21 pm] you: leaving again? 

[8:23 pm] jungkook: yeah

[8:24 pm] you: when r u coming back 

[8:24 pm] you: i just bought christmas decor :( 

[8:25 pm] jungkook: :( sorry 

[8:26 pm] jungkook: also not sure

[8:26 pm] jungkook: i’ll be back to see them though! promise. i’ll help you take them down too 

with that, you went home and decorated the apartment with a christmas tree, a snowman, and stockings with yours and jungkook’s initials hanging below the tv on the wall. waiting patiently all december and the first two weeks of january to see if jungkook would ever come back to see how cute you made the apartment. 

he never did. 

rather, he came back the end of january, when all the festivities were done and the decorations were down. 

“where are the decorations?” he asks, shrugging off his jacket and walking into the kitchen. 

you rolled your eyes, picking up your mug of hot tea. “took them down myself, didn’t think you were coming back.” after that you moved into your room, watching tv and sulking to yourself. sure, you were upset but you shouldn’t have expected anything more from him. it’s become one of the only personality traits that you see in him: ghosting you and coming back like nothing happened. plus, it’s not like he owed you an explanation. you and jungkook were simply roommates, nothing more than that. no matter how much you wanted to get to know him, jungkook always left before you were able to get any deeper than two weeks into his past. 

you close your eyes and shake off the memory. breaking the silence when you speak, “you’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” 

his gaze moves away from the tv. his eyes meeting yours, “why do you say that?” 

you break eye contact before you shrug, “i can always feel it.” 

he doesn’t say anything after, letting you wallow in the feeling washing over you once again. jungkook was leaving again and he knew you knew. there was nothing he could say, because what did you want to hear? that he’ll stay? maybe it was because it’s only been a day, and he’s already leaving. the whole thing makes your head ache. the both of you continue to watch the movie until the end, the clock striking four in the morning. jungkook turns the tv off when you yawn. 

“tired?” he asks. you nod, standing from the couch and turning off the lights. he follows suit, stretching and trailing you down the hall. you walk into your room and lay on your bed, jungkook stays at your door, turning your light off before softly saying, “goodnight.” and then closing your door. 

sometime in the morning, around seven or eight, you feel your bed dip beside you. it’s jungkook, you can tell by the smell of his body wash. a strong fruit smell that always feels like it burns your nose. you’re barely awake, your head still lightly aching. your droopy eyelids beckon you to sleep. jungkook doesn’t say anything, instead just sitting there. 

in his head he’s saying something, apologizing to you for all the times he left you alone in this big apartment. you must have felt so alone, probably scared too. he’s too much of a coward to say it out loud. so for now, in his head, he repeats the apologies over and over again. 

“sweet dreams,” jungkook says. rising from your bed. you can feel it, the comforting weight next to you as you fall back asleep disappears. 

you blame your drowsiness for the way you reach out for his arm, gently holding his hand. he stutters in his step, looking back to you and your connected hands. “don’t go,” you mumble, eyes still closed. 

and for once. jungkook hesitates. for a split second, he wonders how it’ll feel to stay with you. 

but he doesn’t know. and he’ll never know. because in the next minute, he’s slipping his hand away from yours and grabbing his bag. walking out the door. again. 

in the morning you wake to an empty apartment. jungkook’s door is closed and it’s just you again. your feet pad against the cold floor into the kitchen, a paper on the island catching your attention. 

jungkook’s handwriting is specific, you could tell the marks apart from someone else’s. a smile spreads across your face when you read the note. terribly, your heart pounds and your cheeks flush. 

be back in two weeks. 

was supposed to be gone the entire month, but i wanted to stop by and see you. 

sorry i only stayed for a day. 

didn’t say it yesterday, but happy valentine’s day. there’s something in the fridge for you. 

take care. 

Xx, J. 

[puppetsoftomorrow]

the avalance news reader au

hey who said peer pressure doesn't work. anyway i made this post and y'all seemed to like it so here we go!! might post to ao3 later on idk...

It had been a truly terrible day.

Ava considered, in the moment that her coffee machine spluttered coughed up coffee grounds over her last clean shirt, that maybe she'd just had a truly terrible year. All her dreams about finally moving to television after being stuck in the doldrums of local news media for six years had been slashed when she'd been placed on the graveyard shift - sure, Ava was finally reading the news, but her shift was from 1AM until 4AM, so her only audience was long-distance truck drivers and new parents.

Still, she persevered, with the slightly foolish belief that if she worked hard enough, she could be promoted to a primetime slot. Or at least a slot that didn't require her to be making coffee at 10:45PM.

Her day had started off badly - she'd barely slept, as the sound from the construction work three blocks away rattled her windows, and she’d woken to find that her cat, Merlin, had kicked his litter halfway across the house in a fit of pique. Ava couldn't even have her normal oatmeal, as she was out of oat milk, and now she was having to drink her coffee black.

After changing her shirt to a dark dress and grimacing as she choked down the coffee, there was a knock on the door, and Ava groaned as she realised she was running late.

"Hey, Sara." She sighed.

Sara stood in the doorway, hair wavy over her shoulders, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie - the same grey hoodie she wore every day, branded with their news station's logo.

"Woah, a dress?" Sara said, eyebrows raised appreciatively, as Ava grabbed her coat and bag and they moved to go down the stairs.

"Don't mention it." Ava grumbled, pulling the coat around her shoulders.

"It looks good on you." Sara said, and Ava shot her a look. Sara mimed zipping her lips. "Do we have to time for Starbucks? I had to have black coffee; my mouth tastes like something died in it." Ava muttered, and Sara shrugged.

"I mean, we've arrived half an hour early for every shift for the past year -"

"Do you want to go back to taking the bus?" Ava said, looking over at her as they reached the lobby. They'd discovered they lived in the same building almost accidentally in Ava's first week, awkwardly meeting across the hall in the early morning, until Sara had realised that Ava had a car and they'd started riding in together.

"Fine, if you're happy with having bad angles." Sara said, holding the door open for her, and Ava rolled her eyes.

"Are you saying I have bad angles?"

"Oh, I'll find one." Sara muttered, and Ava snorted with laughter and unlocked the car. One of the benefits to giving her camera operator a ride every day was always having excellent angles.

After a stop at Starbucks, Ava rolled along the dark, quiet roads, sighing deeply.

"What's up?" Sara asked, sipping her drink - black coffee, which she somehow enjoyed.

"Nothing." Ava muttered, but it only took one look at Sara for her to come out with the story of her crappy day. Sara laughed.

"So that's why you're wearing the dress."

"That's what you're focusing on?" Ava said, focusing on the road with a small smile on her face. "I have to go back to my apartment at 5AM and clean up kitty litter and coffee grounds."

"Not to mention getting coffee out of your shirt." Sara snorted, and Ava groaned, loud and over the top.

///

They always split when they got to the studio, Ava marching off to make-up to get ready, and Sara taking the elevator to the studio floor to set up her camera. The studio was always dead past midnight, just a skeleton crew left, which Sara found she enjoyed - it was easier to know everyone that way. She waved at Nate, distracting him from where he was running through the weather, muttering under his breath and checking his perfectly coiffed hair in the camera. He waved back, a bright smile on his face.

Careful not to trip over any of the wires on the floor, Sara made her way up to the box above the studio, the cramped room filled from head to toe with blinking lights and buttons, with a large window so they could look down on the studio. The techs – Behrad and Charlie - were sat with headphones on, running through sound checks, so Sara just waved to them as she found who she was looking for.

Zari, the studio runner, was running through her clipboard, muttering under her breath. When she saw Sara coming, she rolled her eyes. "Back again?"

"What have you got for her today?" Sara asked, keeping her voice nonchalant.

"The usual. Some city councilor has been embezzling funds, Star City is readying to bid for the 2028 Olympics, and former mayor Queen is opening a patisserie down-town. It's been a quiet week."

"Exactly." Sara said, her grin widening. "You've got to add the cat one."

Ray, their head writer, had found a story a week ago about a fat cat attending the Star City pet spa to lose weight, and Sara had been tracking down clips of the poor thing, bribing the editor, Nora, to pull them together. She'd even written a script. Zari looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! I have a bet going with Mick - if I can get Ava to break on camera by the end of the month, he's got to give me $50." Sara said. It was ridiculous, she'd started the bet - truthfully, she found it endearing how Ava read the news with the same abject sternness whether she was covering a political scandal or a dog who'd learnt to surf in Star City Bay. She'd only broken her composure once - a smile creeping on her face when reporting on the 5th birthday of a crocodile at Star City Zoo named Snaps. From that day on, Sara had vowed to make her laugh, properly, live on air.

"I don't have any time to make up." Zari said, and Sara sighed.

"Yeah, but you know Ava reads quick enough. Please? For me?"

Zari seemed immune to the puppy eyes, so Sara sighed. "And I'll give you $20."

Zari snorted. "Do you have $20?"

"I'll have $50 when I win the bet." Sara countered, and Zari sighed.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Z, you're the best." Sara said with a grin, and turned to return to the studio floor.

///

The program went smoothly, like always. Sara liked her job, the focus of filming and the pride she got when she saw her own work on TV, but she liked it better when she was filming Ava, who had pretty much insisted from day one that Sara be her primary operator.

Ava looked especially pretty today, someone in make-up evidently having convinced her that she didn't need the bun today, and instead curled her hair over both shoulders, which didn't completely cover Ava's defined arms, visible in her sleeveless dress.

The night ran the same as most others, Ava transitioning smoothly between topics and engaging in light, courteous banter with Nate before he presented the weather. Sara looked at Ava during these moments, the five minutes she was off camera, where she looked down at her notes, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Okay, so maybe Sara wanted to make Ava laugh because she looked so pretty doing it. Sue her.

They were coming near the end, and Sara was losing hope that the story would be included, until she heard the segue.

"Now, in lighter news," Ava started, her eyebrows suddenly shooting up as she read the prompter. Sara grinned; Zari had obviously left this out of Ava's notes to inspire more of a reaction.

"Cats," Ava blurted out, steadying herself before continuing, "they're not normally known for their love of swimming, but one feline in Star City is hitting the water instead of the gym in a bid to lose weight. Mr. Snuggles -" Ava bit her lip as the pictures played on the monitor - a black and white cat in a life vest, looking absolutely terrified, and Sara grinned. "Mr. Snuggles is a thirteen-year-old cat who - dislikes the outdoors and other physical activities."

Sara's grin widened as Ava lost it, barely making it through her lines through her giggles. Her face was flushing pink and she bit her lip to try and compose herself. "But with encouragement from his owner -" Ava pressed on, trying to hold herself together, "Mr. Snuggles had lost one pound in six months."

That was the final straw, as Ava descended into a full-on laugh, barely making it through her sign off. Sara was so distracted by the sound she nearly missed Zari's voice in her ear. "Camera 1 to Camera 3 in 3, 2, 1 -"

Sara switched off, but not before Ava snorted, flushing even deeper and covering her face with her hands at the sound, not disguised by the jingle from the lottery numbers playing across the screen.

///

Ava had bolted from the set, and Sara packed up her equipment as quickly as possible, ducking out just in time to catch Ava as she walked down the corridor to the lobby. Her face was now free of make-up, her hair tied up in a messy bun, but she was still in the dress that left Sara's mouth a little dry. She looked at Sara, blushing again.

"I can't believe you did that." She groaned, and Sara put on her most innocent face on.

"Did what?"

"Bribed Zari to put the cat story in! John in make-up said that Charlie had told him that you'd bribed Zari."

"To win $50!" Sara said, grinning. "And you have a really cute laugh."

Ava looked up; eyebrow furrowed. "Really?"

"Yep." Sara said, trying to play it cool. "Look, do you want half? I feel bad now."

Ava sighed. "No, it's okay."

"I could buy you dinner." Sara said, almost blurting it out, and Ava looked at her. "To make up for it."

Ava's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Uh - yeah, okay. I can do dinner."

~the end~

okay so this was fun to write and i kind of want to write more so uhh send me where u think this story should go. or ideas for a part 2 maybe. thanks for reading!!

[livvywrites]

For the colour ask game #F38D68 #AAB9CF #3D2C2E

hi lovely! thank you for asking :D been a while since i did the color ask game but. i'm *always* down for it (& other prompts! i'm just. slow sometimes :p)

i started writing this and somehow it ended up in my dragon's blood universe! which is part of a long, messy daydream i've had goin' for a while. it's ridiculously self-indulgent, but! anyway. i hope you enjoy, nonny :)

also, u can read another short set in this universe over here :)

[ id: a screenshot of 3 colors. the first is an orange-y color, with the hex code #f38d68, and named dark salmon. the second is a light grey-blue, with the hex code #aab9cf and named light steel blue. the third is a dark reddish brown, with the hex code #3d2c2e, and named old burgundy. ]

dark salmon | light steel blue | old burgundy

There is an old burgundy sweater in the back of her closet. It's too large--the sleeves go down past her fingers, the shoulders drape oddly, the hem skims the middle of her thighs. There are cigarette burns on the wrists, and despite its long exile, it still smells like ash and nicotine.

Sometimes she takes it and breathes it in, just to... remind herself. That once upon a time, someone had worn it. She can't bring herself to do anything more than that, though. Can't bring herself to wear it, even though there are nights she desperately wants to. That, or use it like a pillowcase--clutch it close all night long, and hopes it chases the bad dreams away.

Today is one of those days. She brings the sleeve up to her face and squeezes her eyes shut. She breathes it in, sensitive nose catching the long-faded hints of smoke and ash and nicotine, and something else, beneath that. Something dark and smokey and---

And it's all in her imagination, she knows. It has to be. It's been two years.

But that doesn't make it feel less real.

A tear squeezes past her clenched eyelid, dripping down her cheek. She wipes it away, hastily. It's not that she's ashamed to cry. She's not. But she's just---

Tired. And lonely. And sick of both of those things. Sick of feeling sorry for herself, of missing a life that is never, ever going to come back to her no matter how hard she wishes.

She's interrupted from her sorrow by the sound of a knock at the door. It's soft. Tentative. She wouldn't have heard it at all, if she wasn't what she was. Didn't have the hearing that she does.

She wipes her face, despite the fact no other tears have fallen, and lets the sleeve slide from her fingers. She straightens, and pushes her hair back, and strides out of the bedroom and to the door. She peers through the peephole and sees...

Someone. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Their hair is dark and messy, but short cropped. She can't see their face. Their shoulders are hunched, face turned toward the floor, like they're trying to sink into their steel gray hoodie. She frowns to herself. She can hear their heartbeat. It sounds---

But no. She can't let herself think like that. Because if she does...

She turns the lock. Slides out the deadbolt. Opens the door.

Familiar brown eyes meet hers. Lips quirk up into a wry smile. "Hey, 'Nora. Long time no see."

There's a lump in her throat. "Jay." She has so many questions---how, where, when, why, what---but she swallows them all. They can wait. Instead, she steps forward, wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face in his neck.

He smells like ash, and smoke, and nicotine--and something else, something dark and smokey, and...

"Jay," she says, and bursts into tears.

Later, there will be conversations. How did he survive? Where has he been? What has he been doing? When did he get back? Why come back now?

But for right now...

All she wants to is to rest in his arms and content herself with the knowledge that he's here, he's alive, and he's hers.

[ send me some hex codes & i'll write something based off of them! ]

[ghost-in-the-hella]

19 with Victoria Chase and Chloe?

For whatever reason, I can’t seem to keep chaseprice stories short! Sorry this took so long, but I hope it’s worth it. I also immediately thought chaseprice when I saw that prompt (“According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”), so thanks for being on the same page with me there :) Unbeta’d and virtually unrevised despite how long it took me to write it, so please take it with a grain of salt.

Content warnings for misogynistic insults, underage drinking and drug use, and implied attempted sexual assault. Because teens in Arcadia Bay are awful to each other.

---

Chloe hasn’t seen Rachel since the first hour of the party. She stopped even getting texts from her about twenty minutes ago. She can already feel the familiar shapes of the argument they’re going to have tomorrow morning. Chloe will accuse Rachel of ditching her and ignoring her texts. Depending on how pissed she is, she might trot out the old dead horse about being abandoned by Max and flog that for a bit while Rachel fails to keep from rolling her eyes. Then Rachel will remind her about their agreement, that they’re both free agents and maybe if Chloe acted more like a free agent and less like a cuckolded wife she wouldn’t be so pissy all the time.

It’ll go back and forth for hours with Chloe whining about her abandonment issues and Rachel claiming that Chloe’s suffocating her, and at the end of it nothing will have changed. They’ll kiss and make up like they always do, but as soon as the next Vortex Club event comes around Rachel will insist on dragging Chloe and then she’ll ditch her in a crowd of people she hates and the whole cycle will start over again.

The whole thing is fucking exhausting, and Chloe’s sick of it. 

Not as sick as Victoria Chase is, though; damn. It’s a hell of a sight: the Queen Bitch of Blackwell teetering drunkenly on ill-advised high heels - possibly only still on her feet because of the bodies of people dancing around her - and looking like she’s contemplating puking in her purse. She looks awful. 

It would be more amusing if Rachel were there to make fun of her with Chloe. It would also be more amusing if it weren’t so painfully pathetic. Chloe’s way too sober to enjoy the sordid spectacle. Being the designated driver sucks ass, especially when the literal whole point of these parties is to get wasted. 

Chloe almost jumps out of her skin when her phone suddenly - finally - buzzes in her pocket.

Rachel: U still at the party?

Chloe scowls at her phone.

Chloe: of fucking course i am

Chloe: where else would i be??

Chloe: im ur fucking dd

Rachel: o right! Srry I already caught a ride

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

Rachel: c u 2morro tho

Rachel: 2 whales date? Not 2 early tho

Rachel: this hangover’s gona be a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch

Rachel: luv u <3 <3 <3 xoxoxo

Rachel: xxx 

Rachel: ;P

Chloe buries her phone in her pocket, fuming. She can actually feel the anger rising off of her skin like steam. Obviously there’s no reason for her to continue being a designated driver if Rachel’s already fucked off with whatever Blackwell jock or cheerleader she’s decided to rail tonight. Chloe’s free to crash on the couch tonight with the rest of the drunk losers. Pass out in the bathtub maybe. There’s tons of booze in the kitchen; she should start there. Stoners are usually in the basement; they shouldn’t be hard to sniff out. Maybe if she’s lucky she’ll find the folks who’re always doing coke in some random bedroom or office and score a noseful. It’s not like she’s got classes in the morning. She can afford to live a little, as long as she’s not actually paying for it.

Chloe starts to push her way through the crowd to the kitchen.

“Watschh where yrr fffuckin goin…” slurs a messy but recognizable voice as a hand grips Chloe’s upper arm.

Jesus Christ, Victoria’s even more wasted than Chloe thought at first glance. Her hand on Chloe’s arm might be the only thing keeping her upright at the moment, which is the only reason why Chloe doesn’t immediately tear herself away. 

“Careful, Vicky; poverty might be contagious.” Chloe attempts to pry Victoria’s fingers from around her arm to no avail.

The idiot jock standing behind Victoria laughs at that, but Victoria just looks confused. And drunk. So very, very drunk.

“Ffffug you, Chhhloe,” Victoria slurs out.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you must be shitfaced. That was practically my real name!” She carefully shoves Victoria back off of her arm as the jock moves to steady Victoria by holding onto her waist.

“C’mon, babe,” he says, leaning close to her ear. He grins at Chloe and winks like he thinks she’s in on some kind of conspiracy with him, which immediately pisses Chloe off. “I’ve got it from here,” he informs her.

Victoria groans something inarticulate and tries to push the jock away, but she ends up just stumbling back into his stupidly broad chest. She really shouldn’t get so drunk and wear such high heels at the same time; clearly, it’s a dangerous combination.

“Dude, I don’t think she wants to go with you,” Chloe says as calmly as she can. She really doesn’t want to get involved. She wants to get drunk and stoned and so blitzed out of her mind that she forgets all about being pissed at Rachel. She doesn’t want to get sucked into whatever drama Victoria’s got brewing tonight. But she also really doesn’t want to watch a drunk girl get mauled by some entitled meathead, even if said drunk girl is a royal pain in her ass. 

“Nah, she’s good. Just needs some fresh air. C’mon, Tori, let’s go for a walk.”

“Don’ ffffuggin call me Tori,” Victoria growls, tugging her arm out of his too-firm grip and nearly falling right off her ridiculous and undoubtedly overpriced heels. “Iss Victoria.”

The creep ignores her and tugs on her arm again, toppling her into his body once more. “It’s cool,” he attempts to assure Chloe. “We’re friends. I’ll get her home safe.”

“She definitely doesn’t want to go with you. Let her go.”

“Dude, be cool! She’s just being a bitch. You know what Tori’s like.” He holds Victoria’s wrists to curtail her squirming.

“Fuggoff!”

Chloe cracks her knuckles loudly enough to get the jock’s attention. “I’ve got better things to do with my left hand tonight than break it on your nose, but if you don’t unhand her in the next five seconds I’ll do it anyway.”

That gives the jock pause, but he doesn’t look like he quite believes her. “You wouldn’t.”

Chloe shrugs. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Logan why his nose slants to the right? Although he’ll probably lie. Ask his ex-girlfriend; she’ll tell you the truth.”

---

As Chloe guides a stumbling and incessantly bitching Victoria through the dark toward her truck, she silently curses every decision in her life that led her to this moment. It’s actually not that different from drunk-walking Rachel home after a party, except that when Victoria keeps touching her boob it’s probably accidental. Probably.

“Where’ss Nathan?” Victoria whines, head lolling onto Chloe’s shoulder and smearing a healthy quantity of expensive makeup into her favorite Firewalk shirt. Which is fine. Not like Chloe can’t just steal another one next time they have a 2010 tour. Time travel’s a thing, right?

“I have no idea where Prescock is. Surprised he’s not doing shots out of your cleavage.”

Victoria’s trying to text, but she keeps almost dropping her phone. “Where are theese bisches?” Victoria grumbles as her manicured fingers jab and swipe at the screen of her phone with the dexterity of a toddler with two handfuls of butter. “Sposdt to be my frens…” 

Victoria’s entire focus is on her phone when it should really be on walking. Chloe tugs her upright and tries to steer her for the umpteenth time. “Can it wait til we’re in the truck at least?”

Victoria grinds to a halt and finally tears her eyes from her phone. “M’not gedding into that… that…” Victoria flails at Chloe’s truck and nearly falls over. “Deathtrap.”

“You had to get a tetanus shot to live in the dorms, right? You’ll be fine.” Chloe grips Victoria’s elbow with one hand to keep her upright and wrangles the passenger door open with the other. “Go on, get in.”

Victoria glares at Chloe foggily. “Are you khhidnappng me, Price?”

“...That’s a joke, right?”

Victoria whacks Chloe solidly in the sternum with her phone. “B’cause I’ll haf you know, my frens will put your assss in jail like that.” Victoria tries and fails to snap her fingers, then stares at them as if she cannot comprehend why they are not obeying her.

Chloe rubs at her sore sternum in annoyance. “Yeah, well, maybe your ‘frens’ should be the ones getting your drunk ass safely back to the dorms instead of abandoning you and letting random creepers paw at you. Then maybe I could get my drunk on in peace instead of wasting my weekend cleaning your puke out of my truck.”

Chloe’s expecting some pushback. Victoria hasn’t even touched her truck, much less puked in it. What she isn’t expecting is for Victoria to shove her phone in Chloe’s face. “You texx thm.” Victoria reaches for the door handle, yanks the door open, and unsteadily clambers into Chloe’s truck.

“Ow, what the fuck! You want me to text your friends?”

“Tell’m yer kidnappin me.”

“Uh, okay, no, I’m not doing that. But I can text your friends if there’s someone you’d rather get a ride with.”

Chloe carefully shuts Victoria’s door and walks around her truck to the driver’s side, thumbing through Victoria’s message history. She tries Nathan first, even though she can see that Victoria’s last ten messages to him have gone unanswered.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Nathan: whothFUCKisthis

Victoria: a good samaritan. seriously tho your friend is halfway to passed out, can you help?

Nathan: fuckoffBITCH

Victoria: god why does victoria even like you?

She tries Courtney next.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Courtney: I don’t know, can Victoria not call my boyfriend a MAN WHORE?

“We’re 0 for 2, Victoria. What’s the name of that blonde girl you’re always hanging around with?”

“Sweetie…”

“Um, what?”

“Goddddd you’re fuckn incomph-- incump-- incompetant. Sweet. T.”

“I have no idea what you’re-- Oh.” Jesus, the girl is literally in Victoria’s phone as Sweet-T. Gaaaaaaayyyy. 

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Sweet-T: Victoria? Victoria Chase?

Sweet-T: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Sweet-T: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Sweet-T: Tell that bitch good luck. 

Sweet-T: Actually wait don’t.

Sweet-T: Tell her to choke.

Sweet-T: Btw Taylor lost her phone.

“Uhh, looks like ‘Sweet-T’ lost her phone. And it’s fallen into the hands of someone who completely hates your pretentious ass; no big surprise there.”

Chloe starts texting Victoria’s contacts at random as Victoria sulks. Most people don’t even respond. The responses she does get are… not encouraging.

Zach: sup biiiiiiiiiiitttcccccccchhhhhh yeah i’ll give vicky a ride ON MY DICK

Hayden: new fone who dis

Brooke: Who is this and how did you get my number? Don’t ever text me again.

Dana: I gott a ride w Jules srry

Juliet: Already back at the dorms. Good luck I guess. 

Logan: fukk that bisch wut

“Well, Victoria, looks like none of your friends are coming to help. So you can either let me give you a ride back to campus, or you can pass out on a couch inside and hope for the best.”

“What th hell djou say to them??”

“Just that you needed a safe ride to the dorms. That’s all.”

“Bullsshhhitt. You pissed them off.”

Chloe laughs out loud at that. “I pissed them off?? You pissed them off by being a gigantic asshole!”

“M’ noddan asshole.”

“Oh, no? Well…” Chloe holds up Victoria’s phone and waves it in front of her face. “According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”

Which is how Chloe ends up comforting a sobbing Victoria Chase in a stranger’s driveway and wishing she’d never been born.

---

Chloe: dude. Srsly. Fuck u for abandoning me at that fucking vc party.

Rachel: chloe?

Rachel: wat timesit?

Rachel: w happnd?

Chloe: its 3am

Chloe: and victoria FUCKING chase is passed out on me

Rachel: ur joking

Rachel: omg

Rachel: pls take a pic

Chloe: this isnt funny rach

Rachel: it’s fucking hilarious!

Chloe: its SAD.

Rachel: Wait so

Rachel: did you fuck her?

Chloe: WHAT????

Chloe: NO!!!!!

Rachel: Oh good bc I don’t think there’s enough bleach in the world to clean your soul after fucking victoria chase

Chloe: she’s drunk AF

Chloe: her friends ditched her 

Chloe: and i kinda called her an asshole

Chloe: so she cried on my shoulder until she passed out

Chloe: and now i’m trapped

Rachel: Poor baby.

Rachel: Chew your arm off?

Chloe: not funny.

Rachel: Again, totally funny.

Chloe: Srsly tho, what should i do???

Rachel: idk

Rachel: sneak out?

Chloe: we’re in my truck

Rachel: hahahahahahahaha

Rachel: of course you are

Rachel: so wake her bitch ass up!

---

Victoria Chase snores. Nothing in the world could have prepared Chloe for that knowledge. She also drools, which is unfortunate for the state of Chloe’s jacket. Not that it’s the cleanest thing in the world anyway, but still. It’s the principle of the thing.

Victoria’s normally immaculate hair is in a state of total chaotic disarray. At least half of her makeup is gone, and what remains is smeared artlessly all over her face. She smells like a brewery. Chloe’s arm has fallen asleep under the weight of her head. Chloe envies it. The sweet release of sleep would be infinitely preferable to the intense awkwardness of being conscious right now.

The moonlight paints Victoria’s face in delicate shades of pale, highlighting the refined angles of her cheekbone, her jawline, her nose. She’s snoring and drooling and messy and the most utterly awful person; it shouldn’t be possible for her to be beautiful in this moment.

And yet. And yet.

Chloe should shove her awake. She should push Victoria off her shoulder, buckle up both of their seatbelts, and deposit her safely back at the dorms (because even though Victoria’s an objectively horrible person, that doesn’t mean that Chloe is). Chloe should abandon ship, let Victoria sleep it off in the front of her truck while Chloe returns to the party and drinks until she can’t remember what Victoria looks like in the moonlight. Maybe if she drinks enough, by the time she’s sober enough to drive Victoria will have sobered up and found her own way home.

Victoria makes a sleepy sort of grumbling sound and shifts against Chloe’s shoulder, draping an arm over Chloe’s middle and snuggling close. Her hair tickles Chloe’s neck and jaw as it sticks out at peculiar angles, and Chloe wants to laugh or possibly die. There’s really nowhere else for Chloe’s arm to go, so it ends up wrapped around Victoria. Victoria lets out a sound that’s disturbingly close to a contented sigh.

“Hey... Vic?”

“Mphgmhm?”

“Um… Are you aware that you’re cuddling me like I’m your long-lost childhood teddy bear?”

“Grhmphgm.”

“Uh. ‘Kay. Long as you know.”

“Mphkm.” Victoria nuzzles into Chloe’s shoulder, squeezing her tighter. Chloe awkwardly pats her side and Victoria sighs again.

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry about what I said before. I mean, not about you being an asshole, ‘cause I’m not gonna lie. But about your friends. I’m… sure your friends do like you, really.”

Victoria shrugs a little, frowning delicately. “Dsnmttr. Sleeb.”

Sleep. Okay. That’s theoretically possible. Chloe’s slept in more uncomfortable positions in this very truck, after all. So she closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of her seat, and she listens to the steady rhythm of Victoria’s breathing until the world begins to fade into a comforting void.

Shit’s going to be awkward in the morning. But, well. That can wait until the morning.

[unclefungusthegoat]

Happy Birthday Far Cry 5!

So Far Cry 5 turns 2 today, and I can’t quite believe it’s been that long already! Being a part of the community has been a truly extraordinary experience, one of the highlights of my internet ‘career’ ahahaha!

I knew almost nothing about the Far Cry franchise when FC5 entered my life, but suddenly, there I was, with John Seed dead before me, and I thought:

‘Well... that guy was really hot.’

Two years later, here I am still. Trash for my sad psycho boy with the beautiful blue eyes and ridiculous plane coat. So I thought I’d just list some of my favourite things that have happened to me because of this game, and because of the wonderful, amazing people who are in this fandom!

The I N S A N E reception to the ‘John is left-handed’ theory.

9 stories published on A03, a total of 85,917 words with over 4000 hits

A John cosplay and Hope County meetup at London MCM 2019

Seamus Dever replying ‘Yes’ to my Tweet about a live action Eden’s Gate TV series with the original game cast

THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF NEW DAWN, and all the theories we had

All the gift exchanges and themed weeks

Creating my OC, Olive Kestler

The Fanzine and that I’m now organising Fanzine #2 (38 sign ups so far- please do sign up HERE! The more the merrier!)

The crazy amounts of new music I’ve discovered from people’s playlists

The shirtless and messy hair mods... T H A N K Y O U

Fanfics about YOUNG SEEDS... because I enjoy suffering

Watching ‘Castle’ for Seamus, and getting excited when there was an episode about a cult, and one where he talked about doing improv and ‘saying yes’... and the ones where he’d say the victim’s name and she was called ‘Chloe’... and that happened several times

And YOU.

I LOVE YOU GUYS. I LOVE YOU ALL. Even if we’ve never spoken, every single one of you brings happiness into my life. You are all indescribably talented and generous and kind and creative. <3 I was going to list some blogs that I adore, but it seemed a disservice to those who I didn’t list. Everyone in this fandom deserves love equally, so here is me giving it to you. Keep being spectacular, keep inspiring, creating and achieving... and keep thirsting over those Seeds.

Anyway, here’s to another year, marching to Eden’s Gate together!

All my love,

Chloe/Uncle Fungus x

[ayellowcurtain]

Can you do a very very cuddly fluffy cute chill boyfriends day with Lucas and eliott.

can I ask you to write a fic where Eliott is Lucas' baby? It can be anything with a lot of Lucas calling Eliott baby!

Can u pls make a fic where the gang is having a normal conversation at school or something and then Lucas and eliott is just being super clingy

Could I ask for a shaved head Eliott?

do you write elu smut?

So can you write a discussion between Elu on whether to get a big or small dog, but it's not obvious that they are talking about dogs so their friends are looking at them bewildered?

I decided to make a day-in-the-life kind of thing, it’s very long, but I hope everyone enjoys it! (and I feel like my English is not doing good these days...just so you know)

-------------------------------------------------------

8:00 A.M

Eliott doesn’t control it, he usually just wakes up early even when he doesn’t want to. But it’s nice, he likes to take his time waking up, especially now that he has Lucas.

His boyfriend never told him, but he heard around something about Lucas having some problems sleeping before. Eliott likes to take some pride in being responsible for helping Lucas fix his sleeping schedules.

He likes to take his time looking at the other one, sleeping on his shoulder, quietly breathing and exhaling through his mouth. Eliott makes sure that everyone knows how much he loves Lucas constantly, but no one else sees this, how Lucas sleeps and how he looks so soft and relaxed while doing it.

The bed feels so warm and comfortable, Eliott wouldn’t mind living in it forever with Lucas. He runs his fingers slowly through Lucas’ hair to put it all back so he can look at his boyfriend.

The flat is already awake, he can hear voices coming from the living room but he wants to stay here, in his bubble of love with Lucas.

They should start talking about moving in together.

11:00 A.M

“If I could choose, I would like those big ones that look like a horse.”

Eliott is gesturing while talking, trying to make Lucas imagine what he’s talking about. They both have the dumbest smiles on their faces and Lucas is nodding even though it looks like he doesn’t know what he’s nodding about.

“I like it anyway, but I prefer small ones, that can fit anywhere and go with you wherever you go.”

Yann and Arthur are late, as always and they get there together, frowning when they find the boys talking enthusiastically about something and Basile completely quiet for once, looking from Lucas to Eliott and vice versa.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Yann greets Basile first, trying to understand what he’s confused about. Arthur follows, doing the exact same.

“I think we’re talking about dildos…” Basile explains and everyone freezes. Eliott starts laughing and Lucas frowns, even more, turning to look at Basile.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Baz?”

“You said you like the small ones-” He tries to explain, also turning to look at Lucas but he stops Basile mid-sentence.

“Dogs! Basile, we are talking about dogs! Putain...you’re so fucking weird, I don’t get it.”

Arthur finally comes to sit on the bench with them, sighing.

“I thought I was witnessing the weirdest conversation ever...but it was about dogs, so ok.”

1:00 P.M

“C’mon, baby, we’re going to be late!” Lucas tries to pull Eliott by his wrist but he’s still on the same spot, hugging their friends and saying goodbye.

Eliott laughs when the boys start teasing Lucas about not leaving his boyfriend alone for a minute.

“Fuck off! We have an appointment and we’re going to be late. Baby…” Arthur imitates him calling Eliott baby, pulling Eliott closer to him, hugging him while looking at Lucas.

“You need to learn what sharing means, Lulu! Give us a little bit of your boyfriend!”

“No! He’s mine! I’ll share my food, my time, my great ideas and plans, but not my boyfriend.” He laughs, pushing Arthur away from Eliott, dragging him out of the restaurant as Eliott is still waving to their friends.

3:00 P.M

Lucas is staring and it’s making Eliott anxious. Maybe he fucked up.

“You’re staring.” Eliott finally meets Lucas’ eyes and his boyfriend smiles, it seems like a real smile.

“Sorry. It’s just different.” Lucas puts his other hand on top of Eliott’s, making a little sandwich with Eliott’s hand in between his hands.

“It was a bad choice, I can see it in your eyes.”

“Stop! That’s bullshit. I really love it, there’s no reason to lie about this. But the most important opinion it’s your own, you need to love it just as much as I do.”

With his free hand, Eliott runs his hand through the top of his head, no more messy hair. He’s almost completely bald.

He knows Lucas loves his hair and Eliott can also understand that he also loves Lucas’ hair very deeply. But he needed a change, to start again and to feel like he was starting over. And cutting his hair was the way he found to do it.

“I think I like it...but I’ll let it grow again now, I promise.”

“You look handsome no matter what.”

“Thank you, baby.” Eliott raises his eyebrows and Lucas just rolls his eyes, but Eliott doesn’t let him move further, pulling Lucas closer by his hips and Lucas tries to escape, to turn his face away but Eliott wins, holding his face with one hand and kissing him just for a second, they’re on a public bus after all.

9:30 P.M

The sun is starting to set outside, painting Lucas’ naked body with a golden color and Eliott smiles, quietly running his big hands up and down Lucas’ thighs and Lucas opens his legs as much as he can as a response, looking so fucking exposed and Eliott needs to take a few deep breaths or he would just throw himself at Lucas, making him moan as loud as it’s possible.

But he can’t. They can’t make too much noise.

The flat is full tonight. Manon and the girls are visiting and it’s already a miracle that they managed to go to Lucas’ room without the others complaining too much about it.

But doing it silently is their specialty as well. And it feels so good, maybe because they end up reminiscing about their first time. And maybe because of both of them like it a little bit too much of the risk of getting caught.

Eliott lays down slowly on top of Lucas, helping him hook his leg around Eliott’s waist, caressing his calf all the way to his ankle.

He makes sure to whisper on Lucas’ ear how beautiful he looks and his boyfriend turns his head a little, smiling and kissing him slowly, sucking on his lower lip. Eliott doesn’t really smoke these days but he knows what getting high feels like.

It doesn’t take long for the room to get ridiculously hot, their bodies are sweaty against each other in a mess of tangled limbs, moving together and they lost the little bit of shyness that happened at the start. Taking the clothes off, finding and putting a condom is always a little bit awkward but now is gone and they’re just chasing the pleasure like it’s so close but they can never reach it. Eliott loves to hold Lucas tighter, to make sure that he’s real, that he’s right there, moaning Eliott’s name, arching his back, scratching his boyfriend’s neck without a care in the world.

The room is completely dark, they’ve been doing it for a long time now but Eliott is not tired and Lucas doesn’t seem to be either. 

Lucas turns them in bed, not wasting a single second, brushing his lips against Eliott’s and traveling down slowly, giving his whole body the lightest kisses, never looking up, he’s always a bit too self-conscious about himself and his abilities and Eliott just wants to tell him again and again how amazing he’s at it. Sex and everything else but he’ll do that later.

He props himself on his elbows, almost coming just by looking at his perfect boyfriend and his puffy red lips so close to where he needs them the most. If God exists and is ok with sex and sex between two men, this could be a fucking heavenly image.

Eliott can’t look after a minute. Lucas has the perfect lips for a blowjob and he must know it because he makes a show out of it and if Eliott lets himself watch, he usually doesn’t last too long and today he wants it to last forever so he lies down against, looking up and finding one pillow, pulling it to his face, covering his entire head with it, wrapping both arms around the soft fabric, letting Lucas do whatever the fuck he wants with Eliott because he deserves it. He deserves the world.

He can finally moan and curse as much and as loud as he wants to, also feeling Lucas’ hands wandering on his inner thighs to his stomach, scratching his skin and Eliott is sure he’ll have marks later.

It feels like hours but it’s been probably minutes, he couldn’t help himself, thrusting just a little bit and he could only feel Lucas moaning, bobbing his head faster and Eliott opens his legs and Lucas seems to get it but he doesn’t mind, just goes faster and pulls his boyfriend closer by his waist, going as deep as it’s possible and Eliott comes, moaning against the pillow.

They need to move out of the flat tomorrow. Eliott needs to have sex with Lucas for an entire day in every single room of his apartment.

[chrvstenpress]

dirty af1s

the preath break up au no one asked for. based on Dirty AF1s by Alexander 23.

a/n: I really like this song and Christen always wears her AF1s. I kinda wrote a thing. It’s hella sad but if you stick around for the end hopefully it’ll make up for it.

______________________

you took your smile back to New York

but you left your toothbrush

and I hope you bought a new one but I’d love you toothless

Tobin was hurt. She was broken. She was in love. 

She and Christen lived together in Portland. That was, up until two weeks ago when Christen left. 

///

“Chris, I don't know what you want me to do!”

“Care, Tobin! I want you to fucking care!” 

“I do care! You think I don't care about you? You think that I don't spend every fucking minute - fuck that, every second of my life caring about you?! That’s all I fucking do.”

“Then show me!” “Chris. I love you. I am in love with you. I’m sorry if you think I don't care. I don't know what to fucking do anymore.” The tears had spilled over by now. Both of them were red in the face, wet on the cheeks, and so damn exhausted.

“I think I need time.” Christen spoke into the tense air. 

“Baby, no. No. What? Let’s figure this out. Right here, right now. Please.” Tobin stepped forward toward her girlfriend, trying to grab her hand, but Christen moved away before she could.

“I need time, Tobin. I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired. If you love me like you say you do, let me take my time.”

They stared at each other, hurt evident in their eyes. Tobin didn't want to let her go. She worried that if she let her go, she wouldn’t come back. She would fall out of love with her and stay in New York. But she couldn’t stop her. She couldn't make Christen’s decisions for her. So she nodded. Her tears were burning her cheeks but the pain in her chest was worse. 

“Okay.” She whispered. “I don’t want to let you go, Chris.” She tried for Christen’s hand once more, the girl trying to pull away again but the pleading look on Tobin’s face convinced her to let her have this moment. She took Christen’s hand in both of hers, pulling it up to her lips and placing a watery kiss on the knuckles there. Christen broke even harder. “I don't want to let you go, but if it’s what you need, I don't want to hurt you more than I already have. So I'll let you go.” 

______________________

Tobin cried what seemed like everyday. Her heart was nearly empty without the green-eyed girl. Her green-eyed girl.

When she would get ready for the day and get ready to sleep at night, she would see Christen’s pink toothbrush right next to her orange one. She didn’t have the heart to throw it out, secretly hoping that the girl would come back and need it again. 

She laughed (and then cried some more) the first time she saw it, remembering how Christen always demanded that she brush her teeth before bed or her teeth would fall out. 

///

“Babe, go brush your teeth!” Christen laughed as Tobin kissed her a million times.

“Why does my breath smell?” Tobin pulled back with a worried look on her face.” 

“No, but it’s just good hygiene, Tobs. If not, your teeth will fall out for not taking care of them.”

“But baby, I just wanna kiss you. Won’t you love me even if my teeth fall out?” She whined with a pout.

“Of course I would. I’d love you forever, no matter what. Now, go.” She shoved Tobin off the bed and toward the restroom.

“I hope you got a new toothbrush, Chris. But I’d love you forever, no matter what, anyway. Even toothless.” She whispered to no one.

______________________

I used to sing while in the shower, now I don't

cause you're not there to sing along

while you put your makeup on

Tobin’s playlist came on the speaker as she showered. She was used to being goofy and singing with her girlfriend as she showered and Christen did her makeup, but not this time.

Again, she was pained with the memories of Christen everywhere in her life.

///

“Tobin, we’re going to be late! We promised Alex we’d be there by 6.” Christen said loudly over the sound of running water and loud music in the restroom as she did her makeup in front of the vanity.

“Chris, it’s fine. Lex is always late anyway. Now sing with me.”

“Every time I look into your eyes I see it. You’re all I neeeeed. Every time I get a bit inside, I feel it. C’mon, baby, right here!”

“Whooooo, who would've thought I’d get yooou” They sang together loudly, laughing at how ridiculous they sounded compared to the angelic voice of Daniel Caesar. 

///

Tobin shut her music off, not being able to enjoy it anymore.

______________________

and I love you just the same

but I'm worried words lose weight

does it hit you just as hard from 3000 miles away?

from 3000 miles away, from three-

I used to like to go out before I met you

now I just go out to forget you

put my nice shoes on so strangers 

can't tell that I miss your dirty Air Force 1′s

I used to like to go out before I met you

now I just go out to forget you

put my favorite shirt on so strangers

don't know that it looks way better on you

Tobin was a player before she met Christen. She enjoyed hanging out at random bars every weekend, picking up girls to take home and then never talk to again. 

And then she met the love of her life. Christen made her lose every interest in any other girl in the world, any chance to have meaningless sex, any chance to fool around.

Now, she’s finding herself getting ready to go back to her old ways. She put on her white Givenchy shirt with ripped holes in it along with her cleanest pair of Nike’s she could find. Christen used to steal that shirt all the time even though she knew it was Tobin’s favorite. 

“I just wanna be as cool as you, babe,” she would say. Tobin would always reply, “Well, mission accomplished because you look way cooler than me,” with a smile and a kiss.

“Tobs, are you sure you want to go out tonight?” Alex questioned hesitantly.

“Yeah, why? I’m fine. Let’s go out and have fun, like the old times.” 

Alex knew the old times were bad. She knew tonight was going to be bad. But she didn’t have the heart to tell her broken best friend no. 

/// 

Come 11 p.m., Tobin was a wreck. She had girls hitting on her left and right but she wanted none of them. She laid her head on Alex’s shoulder, the two girls tucked into a booth in the far back corner of the bar. 

“I miss her, Lex.” Tobin whispered out drunkenly as she cried on Alex’s blouse.

“I know, Tobs. Give it time.”

///

At 1 a.m., Alex dropped Tobin off at home, giving her a glass of water and setting some Advil on her bedside table for the morning. She put Tobin in bed, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to check in on her the next day.

Tobin didn't go to sleep, though. Instead, she grabbed her phone and opened up Christen’s contact. 

“I lovw yoi and I muss yoy so mucj.” The first text read.

“Do tou mis mw at al? do u caer?” Was the second.

“ur al tje way on rhe orher sife of yhe countri ans I wisj u wer w me.” Was the last before she cried herself to sleep. 

She woke up in the morning due to the loud vibrating sound against the wood next to her bed. She grabbed her phone, squinting her eyes and groaning at the brightness of the screen before reading the text from Alex asking how she was doing. She replied that she felt “like shit” and “just woke up” before exiting the conversation and seeing Christen’s contact right below Alex’s.

“Shit.” She cursed to herself, seeing the messy words she sent the girl. 

She let out a loud groan before stopping, realizing she was only making her headache worse.

She knew she had to send another message. She fucked up, big time. She didn’t want Christen being left with no explanation.

“Hey. I’m sorry about those messages. I fucked up. I guess I tend to keep doing that. Anyway, I’m sorry again. I hope you’re well.” She sent, her heart aching at the dullness of her message. She didn’t even think about her next action, though. She just did it.

“I do miss you, though. I love you, too. So much. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t fair to you. I just really needed to tell you that. I’ll leave you alone now.” The second message read.

It was the truth. She hated waking up every morning and not seeing the wild, dark, curly hair on both her pillow and Christen’s (because there was that much of it). She missed getting ready together in the mornings, making coffee together, dancing in the kitchen to their favorite songs with no pants on. She missed seeing Christen’s dirty Air Force 1s next to the door. Christen refused to put them anywhere else, hating a mess and insisting that everything had its place.

She sighed, locking her phone and moving to get out of bed. Then her phone vibrated again.

chris<3: please make sure you’re taking care of yourself. 

Her eyes watered and she bit down on her bottom lip hard I'm attempts to stop the tears from spilling. She wanted her girl back. She had to be better. 

______________________

took my heart to california

now it doesn’t work right

yeah, it beats and, yeah, it beats

but, damn, it hurts every night

you’re not lonely just because you are alone

but ever since we said goodbye

well, I just happen to be both

I took my heart to california and now it’s broken

Kelley called Tobin after Alex told her what was going on.

“Tobs, come stay with me for a bit. Get away from that house. It’s not doing you any good.” The freckled woman said gently. 

“Kelley, you live in California. It’s too far.” 

“No it’s not. Look, I’ll road trip and come pick you up and we can road trip back, too. Tobin, I think it’s best. We’ll even go surfing.”

“Kel, I’m not going to ask you to-”

“Tobin, I offered.”

Tobin let out a sigh. “Yeah, alright.”

///

Kelley was right. Being in that house wasn’t doing Tobin any good, but being away from it was worse. To Tobin, it was leaving behind everything she loved. 

She laid in Kelley’s spare bedroom every night wishing she was sleeping in her own bed. The bed she shared with Christen. She missed the permanent dip in in it where Christen laid. She missed their corresponding coffee mugs, even if only one of them had been put to use lately. She missed the houseplants that Christen insisted on buying, and then making Tobin take care of.

California had none of that. California had Kelley. California had surfing. California didn't have Christen.

She took her heart to California and it kept trying to tug her back to Portland. Back to Christen, even though Christen wasn’t there. Her heart worked better in Portland. California just broke it even more.

///

“You’re sure you want to go back, dude?” Kelley’s face was concerned.

“I have to, Kelley.”

“I don't want you to be lonely-”

Tobin let out a laugh. It wasn’t a good one, either. It was laced with hurt and anger and resentment. “Christen left me. She left me alone. I think it’s a little late for that.”

“Hey, you have me and you have Alex. You’re not alone.”

“Yeah,” Tobin nodded, “Sorry I snapped.”

It was a lie. She was lonely. She was alone. She was lonely because she was alone. She wanted her girl back.

______________________

It had been three months since Christen left her. Three months since the girl of her dreams left her. Broke her. 

She needed to find herself outside of Christen. She couldn't keep living like Christen would come back any moment now and everything would fall right back into place. Everything was out of place before she left, anyway.

So she started going out, and not like she did before. She went out to museums and art fairs and dog parks; anything but bars. She declined Alex’s company politely, insisting that she needed to be alone with herself.

She even started seeing a therapist. She knew she was fucked up. She knew Christen fucked her up even more. She knew she made a mistake trying to give Christen what she deserved when she wasn’t ready to give that to her. 

So she saw a therapist to help her figure things out because another thing she knew for certain was that she loved Christen and she wanted to be better. If not just for herself, for Christen. Even if she couldn’t have her. 

________________________

Three and a half weeks later, Tobin’s phone rang while she was doing dishes after dinner. She quickly dried her hands and was anxious when she looked at the screen that read ‘chris<3′ and displayed a goofy picture of the girl in a pink beanie, a gray hoodie (that was Tobin’s), black skinny jeans with holes in the knees, and a foot kicked up in the air, toe pointed, showing off her dirty Air Force 1s that she never left the house without. 

She fumbled her phone a bit, hands not completely dry, and answered nervously. “Um, hello?” She felt like this was a prank. Maybe Christen accidentally butt dialed her. Maybe someone found her phone and-

“Hi.” Christen’s voice was soft and easy. When Tobin didn’t say anything, she spoke up again, “It’s me, uh, Christen.”

“Hi.” Tobin didn't know what else to say. Her heart twinged a little at the sound of Christen’s voice, but it warmed more than it hurt. 

“Uh, so...” Christen took a long pause before she said, “You know what? Never mind. I’m sorry I called,” in a voice that worried Tobin.

“Hey, hey, no, Chris. What's up? Talk to me.” She couldn't stop herself from showing Christen that she still cared. She always would.

Christen let out a shaky breath. “Um, I don't know. I’m kind of in Portland right now. And I kind of really miss you. And I kind of really want to see you. But I also kind of know that I hurt you. A lot. And you hurt me. A lot. And I’m not sure what to do now.” 

Her voice sounded scared but genuine. Tobin let out a short breath that she had been holding since Christen said she was in Portland.

“Can I come get you?”

“Tobin, I-”

“No, Chris. Please. Let me come get you. I promise, I’ll just take you to get coffee and we can talk and nothing more has to happen.”

Christen paused again and let out a small sigh. “Yeah. Okay. I’m actually kind of still at the airport.” Her voice was sheepish, knowing Tobin would catch on to the fact that she flew to Portland and called Tobin before anything else. 

Tobin smiled but didn't mention anything about it. “Okay, Chris. I’ll be there in 20. Send me you're flight info so I know where I’m picking you up.”

“Okay. Hey, Tobs?”

“Yeah, Chris?” Tobin’s voice was hopeful after hearing Christen call her by her nickname again.

“Thank you. I kind of can’t wait to see you.”

Tobin was already grabbing her keys and putting on the first pair of shoes she could find as she smiled. “Can you wait 20 minutes, maybe?” 

Christen laughed, “Yeah. Yeah I think I can do that. Thank you, again.”

“Always, Chris. Always.” Tobin smiled to herself before saying, “Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of can't wait to see you either.”

Christen couldn’t stop the smile that made her eyes squint. “20 minutes, Tobs.”

“20 minutes.” Tobin repeated. “I’ll see you then.” 

“Okay, see you then. Bye.” Christen hung up just after Tobin said bye back. 

“Holy shit.” Tobin said to herself as she backed out of her driveway.

///

“Departures, no. Uuuuuh, arrivals. Arrivals.” Tobin read the signs aloud as she drove into the airport, a nervous reaction she hadn't realized took over her.

When she caught sight of Christen exactly where the girl said she was, she smiled and pulled her car up to the curb, turning the engine off and getting out quickly.

By the time she was rounding the car, Christen was too. When they reached the trunk, they bumped into each other due to the fact that both their heads were down because they were too nervous to look at each other. They both groaned at the contact, holding different parts of their bodies before looking up at each other and laughing. 

“Hi.” Tobin breathed out with a shy grin on her face.

“Hi.” Christen mimicked.

“Can I - Can I hug yo-”

Christen didn’t wait for her to finish her question before dropping her hand from holding her suitcase up and wrapping her arms around Tobin’s neck tightly. Tobin fumbled back a step before she returned the hug with equally as much force, wrapping her arms around Christen’s waist and burying her head in the girl’s shoulder. 

“I missed you.” They said at the same time, laughing once again at the silliness of the situation. 

“You want some coffee?” Tobin questioned after a few moments, voice muffled by Christen’s shoulder.

Christen only nodded into Tobin’s shoulder before pulling back. They separated slowly, shy smiles on both of their faces. Tobin popped the trunk open and lifted Christen’s very large suitcase (which had fallen over after Christen’s hands abandoned it to replace it with Tobin’s body) with ease. She was hopeful seeing that Christen seemed to have come back with as much as she left with, plus some. She shut the trunk closed, turning to the other girl again and grabbing one of her hands, giving it a squeeze along with a sweet smile before moving to get in the car. 

///

Tobin held the door to the familiar coffee shop open for Christen and walked in behind her. She looked around for a second, thankful that it was mostly empty (with the exception of a few college kids studying with their headphones on).  “Go get us our seats,” she nodded her head over to the small loveseat in the corner that they always sat in, “I’ll order. You want your usual?”

“Yeah, thank you.” Christen smiled before walking over to settle herself on the couch. She sat with one leg tucked under her and her hands in her lap. She played with her own fingers, nervous about the conversation that was about to happen, but so incredibly happy to see Tobin again. 

Before she knew it, Tobin was walking back with two paper cups of coffee, steam coming out of the lids. The lighter-haired girl sat down in her spot, exactly the way Christen was seated with one leg under her, and facing the green-eyed girl. Her green-eyed girl (or so she hoped).

She handed Christen her cup, the girl muttering her thanks and immediately bringing the lid to her lips and taking a swig. Before Tobin could warn her that it was hot, the girl yelped out-

“Ow!”

“Woah, you okay?” Tobin pulled the cup from Christen’s face and looked at her worriedly.

“Yeah, I just forgot to blow on it.”

“You always do.” Tobin teased with a gentle smile. 

Christen didn’t say anything, only taking her cup back from Tobin’s warm hands and nodding sadly at the memories of Tobin warning her to wait til the drink cooled down (and her never listening). Christen always pouted afterwards from the pain of the heat on her lips. “Babe, I told you to wait,” Tobin would always say. “Kiss it better for me?” Christen would ask with puppy eyes. And Tobin would. She would kiss her so softly, taking all the pain away, and say “Always,” before kissing her another time and pulling away.

“You forgot to warn me.” Christen’s voice was quiet and sad. 

Tobin looked at her like she could break any moment now. “Yeah, I did. I’m sorry,” she choked out. 

Christen didn't dare ask her to kiss it better like she normally would. They weren't there yet. No matter how much they both wanted to be. 

Tobin cleared her throat, trying her hardest not to cry, but Christen saw the tears building in her eyes anyway. She let Tobin take a moment to pull herself together. 

“I’m sorry.” Tobin choked out again. 

“I know. I’m sorry, too.” 

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. You were right. I didn't show you I cared enough. You deserve so much more than what I gave you.” She was crying now. She didn't feel like trying to hold it back at this point. Her therapist told her not to.

Christen was surprised. Tobin hardly ever cried. The day she left was one of the few times she had seen the girl’s tears. 

Her heart broke for the girl, seeing her so vulnerable in such an open setting.  She sighed, grabbing one of Tobin’s hands, letting them rest on the girl’s lap. “We weren’t ready.” 

Tobin only shook her head and kept crying. 

“Tobin.” Christen said sadly.

She shook her head again, tears still falling down her cheeks and finally looking up to meet green eyes. “I’m so sorry, Chris. I’m so fucking sorry for what I put you through, I begged you to stay too many times and I wasn’t making you happy. I was hurting you every time I asked you to stay. When you left, I realized how shitty it was for me to do that. I didn't deserve you. You deserve better than me.”

“Tobin, stop. Stop saying I deserve better than you, in the present tense.”

“You do.”

“Are you telling me that Alex was lying to me when she called and said you changed for the better? Have you not? Should I go back to New York, because Tobin, I really can’t put myself through that pain again.”

Tobin stopped breathing so heavily for a second and furrowed her eyebrows. “Alex called you?” 

Christen realized she accidentally let the secret slip, but she didn’t really care. “Yeah. She called me last week and said you’d changed and I should come home. I was hesitant. I didn't know what to think. But she told me you’re going places alone to better yourself. And she told me you’re seeing a therapist. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine,” Tobin sniffled, “I’m sorry she called you. She had no right.”

Christen shook her head with a gentle smile. “I’m kind of glad she did.” She squeezed Tobin’s hand again, enjoying the warmth she found in it.

There were a lot of kind of’s happening. Tobin didn’t know what to make of it. So she just squeezed back. 

“Would you have come back if she hadn't called?” Tobin’s eyes dropped again, staring at their conjoined hands on her lap. 

Christen let out a deep breath through her nose and rested her head sideways against the back of the loveseat sofa. “I don't know. I think maybe eventually. I needed to know you were okay. After that night that you texted me at four in the morning-”

Tobin winced, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It’s in the past. After that night, I would occasionally text Alex to check on you. I didn't want to text you and give you false hope that I was coming back. I didn't know what I wanted at that point. But I think coming back was always in the back of my mind. I just needed time.” The last sentence sounded all too familiar to Tobin, but she was glad this time it was in the past tense. “It hurt me hearing how hurt you were,” Christen continued, “I hated knowing I did that to you-”

“I hurt you first. I deserv-”

“Tobin, don't you dare say you deserved me hurting you back. You know you didn't.”

Tobin nodded but didn’t say anything. Christen took that as her chance to continue.

“I hated knowing that I did that to you. But, I needed to. I couldn't stay when it was hurting me like that. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I needed to take care of myself.” 

“I’m sorry for hurting you, too. I'm glad you left to take care of yourself. Don't get me wrong. I was hurt. Am hurt? I don't know. Am hurt, I guess. But I’m glad you did it for yourself. I’m glad you gave yourself what I couldn't give you.”

They stayed silent for a few moments, taking in each other’s apologies. 

“Tobin. I’m back. I’m back because I have faith in you. You hurt me but I still have faith that you're better than that. I know you can be better than that. I just don't want to get hurt again. I missed you. I missed you so fucking much that I couldn't sleep at night without you holding me and scratching my back like you used to. My coffee didn't taste the same because you weren’t the one making it. My heart hurt without you with me. I thought it would go away,  but it didn’t. I still miss you. I still love you,” Tobin’s breath caught in the back of her throat at that. Those were the words she longed to hear for nearly four months. The words that made her heart flutter and break at the same time, “just please don’t hurt me like that again.” Christen pleaded with tears of her own on her cheeks now.

Tobin shook her head furiously. “Never. God, I couldn't live without you, Chris. I don't deserve a second chance-”

“God, Tobin, stop. Stop saying shit like that. You do. You might have hurt me but you loved me too. You loved me a whole lot and I felt it. I’m sorry for saying the shitty things I did. Let me come back to you. Let me give you a second chance.” 

They were both sobbing at this point. They abandoned their drinks on the small table in front of them to be able to hold each other with both hands. 

“Are you sure?” Tobin asked hesitantly, looking between both of the green eyes.

“If you’ve changed the way Alex says you have and you’re willing to keep working on us, yes. I’m sure.” 

Tobin grabbed the girl’s shoulders and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. Christen accepted it and reciprocated. They stayed like that for a moment, basking in each other’s love. 

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so much. I’m going to do everything I can to give you what you deserve this time around. I don’t want to ever let you go again.”

“Please don’t.” Christen cried out.

Tobin pulled her head back, resting her forehead against Christen’s and holding her face in both of her hands. “Never. Never again. I’m never letting you go again.”

“Kiss me, you fool.” 

That was all it took for Tobin to crash her lips onto Christen’s. It was salty and wet and kind of gross. It was also full of love and hurt and ‘I kind of really missed you.’ But all too soon, Christen let out another “ow” in pain. 

Tobin pulled back quickly. “What? What happened baby?”

Christen swooned at the affectionate name. “Sorry. Just, my lip still hurts from the burn.” They laughed, cheeks still wet and eyes still red.

“Can I kiss it better?” Tobin asked, taking Christen’s usual line. 

“Always.” Christen whispered before letting Tobin kiss her pain away again. 

______________________

a/n: so it was actually a breakup/make up fic I guess. Hope you enjoyed it. Leave me asks and let me know how I did:) thanks for reading!

[gothkaede-remade]

idk if uve gotten it yet but kuzumiki for the one ask game ur talking about. i dont know whatys going on but i love u

TEDDIE SENT ME ONE but I love you and u haven't sent one yet. so I'm doing yours bc yoire so valid!Who thinks ridiculously extravagant gifts are the best and who prefers the heartfelt, sentimental gift? THEY usually give each other heartfelt gifts but fuyuhiko buys mikan something extravagant bc he has the money. mikan always makes smth homemade and it's extremely messy, you can tell she tried to be neat but she's just naturally clumsyWho won’t stop saying “I love you” and making big, goopy puppy eyes?mikan!!! fuyu has yet to grow immune to itWhat’s the most extreme thing either would do for a kiss (or Klondike bar)?MIKAN WILL DO ANYTHING. I MEAN ANYTHING. fuyuhiko has to kiss her before she can embarrass/hurt herself . fuyuhiko doesn't ask for kisses or anything he just blushes at rhe idea and mikan kisses him Who gets the obligatory cute stuffed animal?FUYUHOKO but he also gets it for him ngl. it's a giant bear Who would get a big bouquet of red roses? fuyuhiko!! but they're not red theure white Who would eat an entire box of Valentine’s chocolate?fuyuhiko will and he'll scream about stomach pains. he's lactose intolerant. mikan will eat about half the box Who writes the really sappy, romantic poetry?MIKAN!! she usually hides it tho and fuyuhiko conveniently finds it Who actually likes those chalk-tasting hearts with cornball messages?neither. they always forget they hate them tho and try them every year like dumbasses Who sneaks home early to put up candles and scatter rose petals everywhere in the name of ROMANCE?mikan.. she tries so hard she puts rose petals everywhere and wears her cutest lingerie and she has like 3 candles lit, but it doesn't look as good as she hoped Who is the wine connoisseur that insists on “only the best” for their meal?fuyuhiko but its the best wine for mikan. he knows she's pretty picky and she's always like "you didn't have to ;;"Who believes that Valentine’s Day is a corporate, soulless Hallmark holiday but still secretly enjoys it anyway?fuyuhiko no questions asked Do they watch bad chick flicks or horror movies (any excuse for close cuddling)?horror movies!! they love tjemDo they make reservations at the expensive, ritzy restaurant or prepare a home-cooked meal?restaurant bc fuyuhiko has the moneyand wants to impress her Do they go to bed early or stay up all night?plan to go to bed early, stay up all night talking Do they end up cuddling on the couch or heatedly making out?cuddle! they'll kiss every once in a while

[franeridart]

Can i ask what (& why) Mina dragon is protecting?

You mean in the pic I posted? That’s just Baku and Kiri haha they’re there more for scale than anything else, really

Anon said:What role do Denki and Sero have in your take on the fantasy AU?

Sero’s a simple normal non-magic herbs merchant and amateur healer, Kaminari’s a lightning mage and a swordsman! They both also stumbled their way into being bards of sort, more for fun than anything else really - they used to travel alone and then they travelled together, till they travelled into the dragons’ territory without even realizing. Somehow, they managed to not die and get on the prince’s good side enough to be allowed to freely roam and maybe stay if they so wished

(they so wished)

Anon said:Ahh are you okay? If everything’s bad and all, feel better soon 🌟

Ahhhh, you’re sweet ;u; thank you!!

Anon said:Hey, I just really wanted to thank you! I only found you a couple months ago but your art has really inspired me. I owe a lot to you on finding an art style that’s comfortable for me. Not to mention, everything you do with Bakugou and Kirishima is the damn cutest thing and I can only love them more~! So thank you for all your lovely work!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh man that makes me super happy to hear!!!!!!!! I’m really really glad my messy art could help you like that haha and thank you so much for the compliments too aaaahhhh!!!!

Anon said:If you ever get around to some more fusions, how about some of the teachers with some students like midnight-bakugou and aizawa-momo?

ngl I have about maybe forty asks in my inbox with fusions suggestions in them, and I’m just letting them pile up cause… that au hasn’t been fun lately, but I think it might be again in the future? Maybe? So I’m leaving those there and waiting for inspiration to strike again - that said, I’m sort of intrigued about these specific combos :O why Midnight and Bakugou specifically? The more I think about this the more I can’t tell if what’d come out would be something sexy or just utterly ridiculous lmao

Anon said:Just imagine Kiri and Baku getting married, and Fatgum is the one to give Kiri away and they couldn’t decide on a best man so there’s like 5 people giving speeches and there are Manly Tears shed.

What do you mean imagine, isn’t this exactly how it’s gonna go hahaha tho I can totally see Bakugou being 100% unaware of the best man situation, at some point after maybe the third speech he’s like is this done can we go now but nope there’s more people - Kirishima has a vague idea of it but as far as he knew it should have been only Denki and Hanta and Mina? Maybe? Most of the oragization of the wedding was left in Mina and Kaminari’s hands after all. But since everyone noticed that Bakugou’s already short patience is disappearing fast and  since 1A is made of a bunch of assholes once Mina’s done Jirou’s like, okay my turn, and then it’s Deku, and then it’s Uraraka, and then Todoroki and Tokoyami and Hagakure and Tsuyu and Iida and Momo too why the hell not - Kirishima’s crying and laughing and Bakugou’s 1% touched and 99% ready to blow up, which, honestly, is exactly how a wedding between these two is supposed to end

Anon said:Hello.-wave- I know this isn’t a question but i love your art work and how you made Baku and his red haired boy friend (i forgot his name :( ) just bounce off each other so perfectly. Now I hope those two actually be a couple in the anime. :)

Ahhhhh I doubt they’ll actually become canon haha it’s a Jump shounen after all - but I’m glad you like the way I portray them!!!!! thank you so much!!

Anon said:TINY DRAGON BAKUGOU IS THE BEST AAAAAA (He’d be like the tiniest, bitchiest cat.)

HAPPY YOU LIKED HIM OMFG!!! and yes, yes that’s exactly how he is haha

Anon said:I wanna tell you how much I love you. Except… there are no words that can express just how much that is. I’ve tried writing to you off-anon before, but, I’m just too shy. (Even using anon, I’m really nervous.) Seeing your artwork always brightens my day. I enjoy reading your tags, comments, replies. I really appreciate your hard work and thank you for sharing it with us. I’m sorry for bothering you and you don’t have to reply. I hope you have a very lovely weekend!! ^^

You’re so sweet orz so damn sweet oh my god, thank you so much for every kind word ;O; I hope you’ll have the best week, anon!!!!

Anon said:Dragon Baku be lookin like a mango, I love him so much. Bless u Fran

A mango!!!!! Amazing, I was thinking about an explosion as far as colors go but a mango incredible I’m never unseeing that ever hahaha thank you, by the way!!! I’m glad you liked himmm!!!!!

Anon said:OOF SO ARE THEY BOTH DRAGON SHIFTERS??????

YES THEY ARE!!!!!

Anon said:How do you think Bakugou and Kirishima would react to finding out their kid was getting bullied in school? What would they say to them?

What a heavy question holy shit, I’m actually not sure? I’m not even sure a kid raised by Bakugou and Kirishima would ever let themselves be bullied, really, so the real question here is why is this kid being bullied? Based on what the answer to that is, they’d probably react in different ways. And what they’d tell the kid would change as well, of course. Well, either way they’d probably go raise hell inside the school, both of them

(then again we’re talking about Bakugou (a former bully himself) and Kirishima (a kid that used to physically fight bullies) and their kid, so maybe the actual conversation - in case the kid were ever to actually admit to it, cause Bakugou and Kirishima’s kid might not even ever do that - would probs go something like,kid: “what if there were someone at school I was having problems with?”baku: “kill them” kiri: “Katsuki! you don’t kill them, you talk to them, and if they try to touch you you punch them as hard as you can right on the chin just like we taught you”)

(When the next day they’re called in because their kid has made a classmate bleed Bakugou fist-bumps them and Kirishima put on his hero face and voice and tells the principal that next time if they don’t want their kid to defend themselves they should make it so that they didn’t need to in the first place)

Anon said:I started reading black clover because of that one sketch you did, and i had such a tough time stopping so I can get school work done 😅 in one day I’ve read 122 chapters and I didn’t want to stop

AHHHHH I’M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT!!!!!! It’s such a nice manga oh boy ;O;

Anon said:Imagine Bakugou seeing Kirishima being attacked or hurt by a villain. I imagine he would immediately explode and charge in to kill said villain? I’m not sure if you’ve seen it, but I also think of that scene in RWBY Volume 3 with Blake and Yang.

I haven’t watched it, sorry ;-; but yeah! Bakugou protecting Kirishima is something I’m waiting for the actual manga to deliver, so I try not to think too much about it to keep it fresh in case Horikoshi’ll ever be that nice to me haha but anyway we sort of saw how he reacted to Kiri being in mild “danger” during the license exam, so I guess for him to actually lose his mind and explode/get angry Kiri should be in serious danger. Like, post-Rappa fight type of danger, probably.  Ahhhhhhhh boy, I seriously hope Hori will be kind enough to make something like that happen (………not that I want Kiri hurt, tho ;–;)

Anon said:Fran, Fran!!! New dgm chapter on the 16th October!!!!!!!!!!

I KNOW! And I won’t be here for it, can you believe ;~; I’m sad o

Anon said:what are your thoughts on trans kiri??

More or less the same as my thoughts on trans baku! I don’t share the headcanon myself, but there’s a lot of good art and works out there with that headcanon which I enjoyed a lot, and if that’s how you wanna see the character then go for it! Who’s even got the right to stop you hahaha

Anon said:Ooh, u read erasermic fics?? Got any faves??

Seems like I only got two in my bookmarks :O x x (and the second is an hp au haha) (I’m sure I read and loved more tho, I’ll have to come back on this when I have the time)

Anon said:Another thing about Invisible girl and Aizawa using his quirk on her. They used a tail as an example of erasing quirks and the tail was still there but it was like a dead limb. So if he used it on her she may actually be visible. I was thinking about this for awhile and I think it might work that way.

That might be! But then again, that still depends on why she’s invisible - if that’s just the way her skin is made then I don’t think Aizawa’s quirk would change anything? I dunno tho, it’s hard to headcanon about Tooru since we know so little about her!

Anon said:sorry I asked about eri-chan and I agree I really want her to be able to but what about her completely destroying her entire ability?? like not giving people their quirks back but make it so she can’t erase them anymore?? if you get me??

OH YEAH SORRY I TOTALLY MISREAD YOUR ASK OH MY GOD I’m not sure she can do that tho? Like, assuming destroying quirks is her quirk to begin with, I’d assume her body would be built in such a way that she’d be immune to it? It’s just the way I see it, tho :O

[willandlyra]

fall back into place

requested by anonymous: nico asking jason for relationship advice. warning: this went off in a completely random direction, but i hope u still enjoy!

::

Jason has a big, dumb grin, which suits him, as far as Nico is concerned, because he is a big, dumb guy.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Nico grumbles, but nope. The big dumb grin appears to be scowl proof.

“I just can’t believe you came to me!” Jason says, and he sounds genuinely excited and happy about it. It’s kind of weird.

Sometimes, the amount that his friends make him roll his eyes back into his skull makes him long for days of being alone with his thought and feared by the ghost of one thousand year old entities.

But those days were sad. These ones are much better.

Nico rolls his eyes. “Yes, okay, I finally took you up on the agony aunt offer. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Jason says. Nico doesn’t doubt it. “Now, what can I help you with?”

“Okay, no, we are not doing this if you’re gonna act like this is some kind of therapy session. And don’t even think about asking me to lie down.”

Jason sighs. “Well, you’re no fun. But seriously, what do you need. It’s about Will, right?”

It’s ridiculous – Nico and Will have been dating for what feels like forever now. Everyone and their great aunt Agnes know that the two of them are together, and Apollo keeps dramatically declaring that he’s going to dedicate the two of them a sonnet. But still, when someone just puts it out there like that, Nico can’t help but flush red.

In part, he supposes it’s embarrassment, but mostly it just makes him think of Will. Even more ridiculously, after all this time, the kid can still make Nico blush without doing anything at all.

“Um, yeah,” Nico says. “Will. Me and Will.”

Jason gives him a big, dumb grin again. A very dopey smile. After he’d got himself over the whole, ‘I have unofficially adopted Nico as my tiny goth brother and if you hurt him I will condemn you to the skies’ thing, he’d very quickly become their number one fan.

“I just really love you two together,” he’d said once, and Nico had looked at him weirdly, and asked why. “I dunno,” Jason had told him. “It’s just, Will is a good guy, and you deserve a good guy. I mean it, Nico, you really, really deserve a good guy.”

That had made Nico blush a little too. Gods, he missed the days where his deathly complexion was unshakeable.

It had, however, affirmed Nico’s suspicions that if Will did turn out to be the world’s biggest asshole, Jason would keep pretty tightly to that condemn you to the skies promise.

“Thought so,” Jason continues, now in the moment. His eyes are still twinkling though, and Nico wishes he had the capability to be annoyed. He is so over this shit, but also, he kind of hopes nothing ever changes. “I can’t believe you came to be for relationship advice. Bite me, Piper.”

“Don’t tempt me,” comes her voice, singsong from… presumably elsewhere in the cabin. Honestly, Nico doesn’t even want to know.

Jason beams. “She’s definitely jealous. Anyway. What’s up, bro?”

Wincing but choosing to ignore Jason’s questionable choice of pet names, Nico decides to get on with it.

“I don’t know what to get him for his birthday.”

Jason blinks.

“Excuse me?”

Irritably, Nico repeats himself.

“…You’ve been together for-”

“Yeah, I know,” Nico says, rubbing at his neck a little awkwardly. “But on his last birthday we’d only just started dating, like, officially, so I panicked and got him a card and Shrek 2. The Deluxe Edition. He loves that movie. Anyway, the problem is, for my last birthday his present was so thoughtful and so now I have to do way better, don’t I?”

“I guess,” Jason says. He looks a little taken aback. “I mean, if he put a whole lot of thought and effort into your present, maybe don’t get him Shrek 3. Even if it is the Deluxe Edition.”

“He’s already got it,” Nico groans. “That was my original plan.”

“It’s Will though, Nico,” and that’s not Jason. That’s Piper again, from wherever the hell she’s hiding out. Nico is mildly concerned that her voice is coming through the ceiling. “He’s not going to care.”

“I know that,” Nico sighs. “I could get him, like, a sticker set. Or a colouring book. And he’d be loving it. He’s so annoying.”

Jason’s eyes twinkle, as if his brain has literally translated annoying to mean: delightful, majestic, the love of my life.

Nico means it, okay. Will Solace is a pain in the ass, and several other body parts. Especially if he’s giving you routine injections.

“Hmmm,” Jason contemplates for a moment. “I don’t think I can help you really, Nico. You don’t have to get him something extravagant, or especially fancy. Just put some thought into it. Like he did for you. So he knows that you love him.”

He’d know that with his eyes closed, Nico thinks. But that’s lame, so instead he says okay.

::

A couple of days later, Will Solace is blindfolded by his siblings and brought along, stumbling, to the campfire where the Hermes cabin proceed to make his life a misery with what apparently constitutes as Camp H-B tradition.

Nico could interfere, he supposes, but watching Will have 17 marshmallows stuffed into his mouth at an alarming pace is quite an incredible sight.

It’s a fairly normal night at the campfire, but with added additions in Will’s honour. They sing a dumb happy birthday song that makes his skin go scarlet, and Lou Ellen and Cecil and a couple of the others of his closer friends give him presents. Percy, seemingly unaware of the marshmallow incident, keeps shoving s’mores into Will’s mouth until he transforms from red to green. Jason gives him a bone crushing hug. Tyson also gives him a bone crushing hug.

Nico saves his present until a bit later. When the singing and the joking has died down a little, and it filters down to fewer and fewer demigods lounging around in the wooded area, Nico takes Will by the wrist and pulls him along deeper into the shadows and away from the others.

Not far away enough to miss the glow of the firelight though – it sparkles from a distance like stars.

“Hey,” Will says.

“Hey,” Nico says.

Then Will grins and splutters, laughing, and Nico is too even as he shakes his head like he’s not.

This boy has changed everything about his life. Nico considers this, sometimes. ‘Better’ was always the direction his life was going to go in, but he’s glad that it swerved into this particular story.

“What’s up?” Will asks. He waggles his eyebrows like an idiot. “Couldn’t wait any longer to kiss me?”

“No,” Nico says. “You’re an idiot.” It’s kind of true though. “I just wanted to give you your presents away from everyone else.”

Will raises his eyebrow. “Presents?”

“Duh,” Nico tells him. First of all, he hands him a CD – an album, pretty standard and probably nothing special, but he knows that Siamese Dream by the Smashing Pumpkins is one of the ones missing from Will’s collection.

He follows this with a postcard book full of an artist’s impression of Darth Vader as a devoted father to Luke Skywalker. Nico will never forget that gods-forsaken day that Will made him marathon each and every movie. To this day, Jar Jar Binks haunts him.

And finally, he drops a little card into the palm of Will’s hand.

Will shakes his head. “Too much, Nico,” he says. “You shouldn’t waste your money on me.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Because I have so much else to spend it on. Shut up, Will. It’s your birthday, and I love you.”

“Even more than all the McDonalds breakfast you could’ve bought for this?” Will grins, wickedly, and Nico lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“I guess so,” he says. “I never said I have good judgement.”

But Will’s eyes flicker back down to the little card in his hand, and then he looks at Nico for a minute. Burning blue, strangely serious. And then he flings his arms around Nico’s head, and pulls him close, tight against his chest.

He mutters, voice muffled, against the fabric of Nico’s shirt, “I love you too. I love you a fucking lot, actually. Thank you.”

Nico feels oddly touched.

“Hey, that’s okay,” he says. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Yeah,” Will says. “But it made me happy.”

He removes his face from melting into Nico’s skin and black t-shirt, and he looks at Nico again, holding his gaze just for a few moments. And then he leans forward, meets his lips. He kisses him slowly and gently, and softer than anything.

The kiss deepens a little, and they fall into each other, and a small piece of paper falls out of the palm of Will’s warm hands. Flutters to the floor and lands in the shadowy grass, but if you squint, you could still read the scrawl written in messy handwriting:

Will Solace – IOU

3 more days in the infirmary.

fin

note: the postcard book will receives is real. it is called vader and son and is my favourite thing in the world also, ive had super bad writers block lately, so if this is a lil stiff or weirdly written, i do apologise

[tayegi]

im crying not only bc of your amazing writing, but bc i was scrolling thru my dashboard and i saw you answering all these asks about new rules and i’m so dump thinking that you set up new rules or sthg, i didn’t understand it so i read all those asks and fucking spoiled myself kmp, but on another note yOU FUCKING ROCK OMG NEW RULES IS SO AMAZING I LOVE IT 💘💘💘

Anonymous said:I'M LOVING NEW RULES SO MUCH just wanted to show my support. i love your writing in general don't get me wrong but new rules is messing with my heart and it's amazing

Anonymous said:Hi! I just read both parts for "New Rules" and I loved them! If this goes in the same direction as Dua Lipa sings (I guess it will) it sounds like it'll be very interesting. I love how everyone in the story is human, not just good or bad, you know? 90% of fics would've made Mijoo the stereotypical barbie bitch, but you didn't and I was pleasantly surprised! I also feel very identified with the OC. I really want her to open up and discover who JK really is, whoever that is. Keep up the good work!

jabaelashit said:Hey! i already wrote you a message on one of your posts but i just wanted to say that i am feeling so skabakks right now, I can't stop thinking about new rules and i'm torn between crying or crying but w angsty. I hope oc learns her worth and can understand she's just as amazing as mijoo, even better if we're talking about morals but oh well people fuck up:( I'm glad she forgave her but I hope she distances from her cause that gurl ain't having the same respect for the friendship as oc/1

jabaelashit said:and i also hope she gets to tell jimin her feelings not to like make him break stuff w mijoo, but to let him know she hadnt seen the note and to release some pressure and feelings cause oc bottles up so much and i just want to go and hug her and don't leave her until she understands shes fucking badass and cool and that the way she thinks is 👏👏👏 lu you've made me feel such a diverse amount of emotions i don't know what to do w myself anymore, your writing is amazing! love love loove you❣/2

Anonymous said:Hey!!:) idk if this is the right place to send compliments cause im really new to tumblr but THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR FICS. Tbh I'd buy it if you published a physical compilation;)

Anonymous said:Wow for the longest time I was searching your old username; idek why cause I’ve known you changed your username and have been keeping up to date with you LMAO this is what being sick and delirious does to me. ANYWAYS! Hope you’re not too down with the crazy anons your story is great and I’m thankful for the dynamic characterizations you create! It makes it so much more interesting cause you create many characters with depth!!

Anonymous said:Can I please just have your writing talent? The OC is just so real, and that moment when she's deciding what to do with Mijoo, and what she actually says at the end.... I can't actually put my thoughts into words. I'm legit stunned by the sheer amount of emotions I felt reading the second chapter. I genuinely adore the banter between JK and OC, I personally prefer people to be more direct with what they want, so I already appreciate them, but also Jimin's convo with OC... (1/2)

Anonymous said:Jimin's convo with OC... Idk about these other anons going off on Mijoo, I was more thinking 'why didn't Jimin chase the note?' and then he would have had his answer then and there. But that might have just been me... And also, thinking back to it now, when JK said 'I need you' and OC repeated it back to him like super softly, like she was surprised oh god, okay, my heart is breaking even more for OC now, idk if I'm reading too much into it. I love you Lu, I hope you're well, and happy! (2/2)

Anonymous said:I love your fics so much!! The sass is real esp with jungkook 😂

Anonymous said:Anyways do ya thang hunny ✨ Keep wrecking me with your writings 💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨💞✨😩

Anonymous said:Read part 1 of New Rules and was like yeah thisll be fun, I'll have a great time. Then I read part 2 and ended up shedding some real tears at the end?!?! LU WHAT THE...... But really though its so nice to read a fic where the OC values friendship. The idea that its always girls against girls makes me sad.. we should be sticking together!!

Anonymous said:so... surprise surprise, dis gon be about new rules 😂 but I really wanted to thank you for adding so much of the oc's inner dialogue, and making her such a character in the first place. a lot of fics do not portray ocs with more defeatist attitudes, but yours does and I was glad, because I could finally relate to a fic :) also, coming back to the inner dialogue thing, it was so in depth that i could really feel what the oc was feeling, what she was going through. it was amazing ❤️ thank you!

Anonymous said:Man this is one hell of a good fic i’m highly anticipating the next chapter!!! Even though it seems like traditional frat fuckboy x ‘i hate frat bois but ye i’d fuck u’ type of girl it still is in a way a little different i just can’t quite catch how but nonetheless it’s amazing!!! Keep up the good work babe

oceanjoon said:ok so ur newest fic new rules literally is so real n relatable !! like honestly i understand seeking physical comfort in people u dont care about wen u r feeling down/insecure to validate urself n it just rlly hit home

kyarybunny said:Lu. At this point I have so many compliments to give you I can't really form it all properly. But I really am enjoying New Rules and this plot you're breathing life into! It's a different facet of your writing and I love how you can interpret every character's actions in a few different ways. Thank you for continuing to write and I hope you enjoy writing as much as we do reading/analyzing.

Anonymous said:Istg when I read the new chapter of New Rules I clenched my fist like that Arthur meme when it came up to the part about mijoo and the note. Girl got me heated lol. As usual, your works do not disappoint! I love your wittiness and how it shines in your writing. The remarks and dialogue in all of your series really proves your talent. You’re truly a gem amongst fanfic writers 💕☺️📢

Anonymous said:i was happily reblogging a few things on my dash and ch1 of new rules just came and i started reading WHERE THE FUCK DID I GET MY ASS INTO???!!!???!?! IT'S FUCKING AMAZING i don't know why i didn't start reading before. don't you ever dare stop writting, you're such a good writter and i enjoy your works very very much

Anonymous said:OC DESERVES HAPINESS JUST AS MUCH AS MIJOO. OC SHOULDVE PUT HERSELF AND HER HAPPINESS BEFORE HER FRIEND'S BECAUSE SHE IS TOO GOOD FOR ALL OF THEM DJFJFJ i hope one day jimin finds out about her feelings :(

Anonymous said:new rules just keeps getting better and better 😻😻

Anonymous said:Wow.. Okay.. I do believe chapter 2 of New Rules has officially ruined me. My heart was actually beating so fast through out the whole chapter, and it's still racing now too. I've thought this multiple times while reading your fics, but you're writing really is incredible. Your characters and the way you describe their emotions is so unbelievably relatable that the reader can't help but be sucked in. I always find myself becoming invested in your characters! Thank you for all the adventures!

Anonymous said:I felt so bad for the OC this chapter ;.; If I were in her position, I'd probably do the same since causing a scene is yes, immature and not worth the energy. But, if i could be a character in New Rules I'd probably be the other best friend who'll be like "guurl, confront her ass it isnt an excuse just because she's your friend." All in all I see the OC as the kind of person who'll go out of their way to care for someone to the point of disregarding their own feelings, which is unhealthy :( (1)

Anonymous said:(2) but thats what makes her such a relatable character. I really, really like that in your OCs. This is probably the second OC i emotionally relate to, first is Copper Girl. But yeah I'm just distracting myself from assignments lol this series is amazing and just you are amazing Lu!!!! ily!!!!! PS. Jungkook is still agsjshskll he's cocky but with OC he's quite vulnerable. I wonder why? Is it just a front or does he have other intentions?

Anonymous said:alternative ending to new rules: mijoo and mc are over their respective boys, does not bother to get into any messy scenarios like that ever again, love each other and support each other and is forever the friendship that everyone envies anD I HATE THIS SITUATION SO MUCH GODDAMMIT LU!!! UR REALLY TRYING TO TEAR MY HEART APART!!

marchxseptember said:OH MY GOD CHAPTER TWO IS UP. I HAD A FEELING SO I HAD TO CHCK UR ACC AND I WAS RIGHT. BRB GONNA READ

marchxseptember said:AND THE PLOT THICKENS. I JIST FINISHED READING CH. 2 AND I AM FUCKED UP. I HAD A THEORY BEFORE BUT NOW I HAVE LIKE 2 MORE IM CONFUSED. I LOVED IT SOOO MUCH. AND I HATE MIJOO NOW. I CANT WAITT TO SEE WHAT WILL HAPPEN. THIS WAS SO GOOD LU.

omg the amount of response ive gotten for new rules is unbelievable. I dont think ppl were even this into equilibrium. the last time u guys acted like this was during the golden boy trilogy and it really feels so good to have this again.

thank you all for your thoughtful messages and for giving this ridiculous little fic a chance. I love you all