#but i suppose i'll have plenty of time to do so since apparently it took six years for that movie to be annouced after rebellion was . . .

[star-burrow]

i'm yet to actually watch (puella magi star kaomoji) madoka magica (will probably do after my final exams week) but i feel like i can say that with homura's speech about love being "more passionate than hope and deeper than despair" and turning into literal devil just to make the "girl she loves" happy and safe...

either those two are lesbians or they have a very very extremely devoted friendship. because i swear to God.

[ghostsstolemymoxie]

A request here for smut! enemies to lovers hot hate sex on a mission then people over the intercom back at the mansion here oops 🤭

AHHH OK I love this ideaaaa, just hoping I did it justice <3

【You're so gorgeous - then you start talkin'!】

Logan x F! Reader - Enemies to lovers: Hatefuck edition Divider credit @cafekitsune Tags: No use of Y/n, explicit content (18+, MDNI), unprotected p in v (be smarter than Logan and reader folks), rough sex, spitting, unintentional voyeurism, accidental exhibitionism Please don't click read more unless you're over 18 and willing to see 18+ content and the above tagged content. WC: 3k words

"He's the most arrogant, boorish, misogynistic, vile bastard I have ever met in my life!" You hissed down the comms, trying very hard to hide the scowl etched into your features. "Yes, but he's also your partner on this mission," Ororo replied, calmly, her voice crackling somewhat as it travelled into your ear through the wireless bud for your communications.

All around you, all you could hear was chatter, laughter and bawdy noises.

Serves you right, really. After all, you'd been so desperate to get back into the swing of things and get onto the missions since your injury, you had begged Charles to assign you the next mission, not even caring what it was.

Lo and behold, it leads to you and Logan being sent out on an intel-gathering mission at a casino just by the Canadian border. All you needed to do was listen out for some plan to do with Sentinels being built. Charles had been stingy with the details, though you weren't quite sure why. You supposed he'd given the brief more to Logan - the experienced X-man.

As though summoned by your distasteful thoughts, Logan soon joined you in the casino, already holding a glass in his hand. Whiskey, no doubt, with plenty of ice. He stepped up alongside you, glancing you up and down and taking in your black-tie attire with a smirk on his face. "You scrub up nice. Makes sense. You're only here as arm candy." He grumbled, taking a sip of his whiskey. In truth, it was a wonder that his muscles didn't burst free from the white suit he was wearing, but this was no time for gawking at the wonderful body attached to this awful man. "Has anyone ever told you that you're the worst person they've ever met?" You mock, even as you follow him to one of the tables. "Has anyone told you that you've got a smart mouth? That's not an attractive quality in a lady, y'know." Logan's retort was fast and icy, barbed in a way that only Logan's tone could be.

"Both of you, you need to focus on gathering intel, not on bickering." It was Scott's turn this time, shrill down the comms as he made sure that both of you heard. From the scowl on Logan's face, he heard perfectly.

A friend of Bolivar Trask was on the roulette table tonight - and apparently, he got loose lips after enough scotch. So, Logan took his seat at the same table, keeping his head down and focusing on looking inconspicuous, whilst you lingered at his side, playing the part of the pretty girlfriend attending alongside her man. Logan chugged the rest of his whiskey, holding out the glass to you. "Get me another one, won't you sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. God, that was the worst word he could use for you. It only made you angry. He had that stupid smirk on his face, too, that said he only knew how mad it made you. Despite his mockery though, you kept your composure, putting a smile on your pretty, painted lips. "Sure thing, hun." You said, leaning in, feigning a kiss on his cheek as you whispered: "Call me sweetheart again, and I'll cut your dick off."

He replied only with a scoff, as you headed to the bar, a scowl plastered on your face. The only way you knew it was because you glimpsed it in the mirror whilst waiting to be served. Once seen, it was schooled quickly, though that didn't stop a passerby from noticing.

Whilst you waited for the bartender, idly listening over your comms to hear whatever was being said at the roulette table, you barely noticed his presence, until he sided up right alongside you. He was a handsome guy, though regrettably not as handsome as your begrudging date for the evening, who remained at the table, unaware.

"Now, what could possibly make such a pretty face look so grumpy?" He asked, cooing the words so condescendingly. "I'm not grumpy." You reply, sourly, before forgetting that whilst you can always hear on comms, they can always hear you. A creak across the room sounds as Logan turns to look at you, and a look of something spreads across his face at the sight of the younger man quite obviously coming onto you. You didn't know what that something was, but it lit a strange, desperate spark in your stomach for just a brief moment.

Still, you needed to deal with the interloper first, so you turned back to him. "I'm kind of in a rush. I'm just here to get my partner a drink." "Partner, huh?" He chuckled. "I get it. Long-term relationship but no ring… has he convinced you that being partners is just as good as being married?"

He had clearly gotten the wrong end of the stick, though it was probably more your fault for saying partner rather than boyfriend. "It's not like that." You reply, trying to think of the best phrasing to get him to just leave you alone. "Then what's it like, gorgeous?"

The moron was grinning, missing the point as if he was a professional. All you could do was just roll your eyes and try to catch the bartender's attention. Sooner rather than later.

As you turned to speak to the bartender, the guy spoke up again, this time laying a hand on your arm as he did so. "Come on, Honey, you can tell me. I've been told I'm a wonderful listener. I've had my shoulders wet once or twice. I've got something else I'd love for you to get wet too."

The crudeness wasn't lost on you, and the thought of doing anything with this guy made your nose crinkle in disgust. But before you could reply with anything, you felt the guy's grip get snatched off of you as another, larger hand slid its way around your waist.

"Somethin' I can help you with, bub?" Logan's voice rumbled from behind you, and it clearly rattled the other guy to be challenged by him. After all, Logan was 300 lbs of muscle and adamantium and had the mug of a mean bastard to go with it. Even if that mean bastard was ruggedly handsome and carved from the finest Canadian oak.

You could have defended yourself. You knew this easily, and you were certain Logan did too, though the intensity of his gaze whilst he stared down the other guy forced a needy sensation in your core, betraying any lingering sense of feminism you had.

"No, just talking to the lady here." The guy replied, as politely as he could muster up, despite the fact he was no doubt shitting his pants. "Botherin' her, more like." Logan scoffed. "That cologne of yours is vile, by the way. You should probably try and wear something that doesn't smell like shit next time you try and flirt with a lady. Especially one who's spoken for."

The guy stammered, tripping over himself in trying to respond, his eyes running from you, then back to Logan, lips flapping comically but with no sound coming out.

Logan took this opportunity to tug you away from the bar instead. "C'mon, Sweetheart. Let's go have a talk." He snarled. "Logan, what are you doing? You need to focus on the meeting! Now is not the time for it!" Scott's voice down the communicator was cut off when Logan tore his out of his ear and yours as well (though he was uncharacteristically gentle as he plucked it from your ear).

He stuffed them both in his pocket, dragging you past the roulette table and the blackjack and into the men's bathroom. A single cubicle, with a lock on it that he immediately clicked shut the second that you were both in.

"What the Hell are you thinking?" You snap up at him, tearing your arm from his grip. Logan didn't reply instantly. His nostrils were flared, his beautiful mouth twisted in a vicious sneer and his whole body vibrating with the kind of energy that was more animal than human. His arms were tense, you could see the seams of his jacket nearly fraying at the effort, whilst those Hazel eyes of his burned into yours.

"I'm thinkin' about how furious I am." He snarled in reply, after a moment to think. "I'm thinkin' about how idiotic you are for even strikin' up a conversation with that guy in the damn first place. I'm thinkin'…" One tantalising step forward, and all of a sudden you were braced against the tiled wall. Thankfully the casino was clean, or at least looked it. Logan loomed over you, his breath heavy and stuttering, and for a moment you wondered if he had finally snapped and was going to drive those claws of his into your chest and finally be done with it. "I'm thinkin'… Dammit, that dress is good on you."

You blink, a few times as you look up at him, trying to confirm that you'd heard him correctly, that his eyes truly were raking down your body like that and not that you'd just dreamed it.

"Logan-" "Shut up." He snapped, cutting you off. "Just… shut up. Stop talking. God, you're so gorgeous and then you start talkin'!"

Despite your indignation, you didn't get a chance to reply. In moments he had gripped at your ass, squeezing full handfuls and lifting you from the ground, only to move you, seating you along the counter where the sink was, his eyes burning into yours all the while. He dropped you onto the counter with a thud, and in moments he was ruching up the fabric of your dress, the fabric slipping upwards from your ankles up to your mid-thigh. Hastily, you tried to tug it back down but he was far stronger, and it was a better option to have the dress lifted than torn, especially considering you'd both need to head back out to the floor. Now that there was a little give, he burrowed his strong thigh between your own, until his body was firmly planted between your knees.

"God, what am I doing?" He groaned, hanging his head, his hands planted on either side of your hips, trapping you in place. "You don't want this. You hate me as much as I can't stand you. But… I can't take this anymore. The… the tension, the burning, the need. The ache." His voice trembled as he spoke, his shoulders jerking with his difficult breaths.

As if all at once, you seemed to realise his intention here. He wanted you. Needed you. In a way almost primal and carnal, that seemed completely separate to the mission, or their usual distaste of one another.

A searing hot coil tightened in your gut, pulsating with desperation you didn't know you had in you. It had been a while, that much was for certain. 6 months? A year? Longer? Too long, by all measures. Too long since you'd shared your body with someone so vulnerably, so intimately.

And God, how you longed to share it with Logan.

"Shove me away." He demanded. "Shove me away. Smack me. Tell me I'm a brute and a bastard and you don't wanna fuck me. Do it. Because if you don't, I'm not stopping, mission be damned."

Instead, disobedient to his pleading, you slid your hands up his chest, feeling every ridge and valley even through his tuxedo. There were no words shared, no refusals or acceptances. Only a gentle touch between the fiercest of enemies.

His eyes flared, bright and incensed, and in moments he had shrugged off his jacket, tossing it haphazardly backwards, not caring where it landed, before dropping to his knees.

His hands planted themselves defiantly on your inner thighs, holding them open as he brought his face towards your core, whilst your needy fingers kept your skirt bunched up and out of his way. Logan didn't even bother to pull your panties aside, at first. He pressed chaste kisses at first to the seam of your womanhood, feeling how it slicked at his attention, enjoying the way you reacted to his attention, the way the scent of your desire seemed to permeate the air around him from every angle. He hummed into his kisses as well, the vibration only making that coil in your gut tighter. At the attempts to close your thighs, he only snarled, his grip getting firmer as he held them apart, shooting a glare up at you as if to warn you that if you didn't stop, he wouldn't keep going.

You relaxed your thighs, and he quickly crooked a finger around the gusset of your panties, tugging them to the side, taking in the sight of you with a cocked, eager eyebrow.

"You got a pretty pussy, sweetheart. She's a needy thing, huh?" He teased, before toying with his thumb, running along the seam a moment before holding you open, just in time for him to dive in again.

He kissed you as if he wanted to devour you like a hound starved for days on end would lap at the sweetest, most delicious meal. Quickly, he shrugged your thighs onto his shoulders, holding you against his face, as he slung one arm around you, holding your thigh in place on him and sliding his hand over the plane of your hip before he began to rub at your swollen clit, whilst his tongue diverted his focus to your weeping honeypot.

There couldn't be a finer sight anywhere in the world. You didn't care you were in a casino bathroom, or that you were meant to be working tonight on an important mission. Life or death meant jack shit compared to the sight of Logan kneeling between your legs and devouring you. He even seemed to hum in delight as your hand tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, nearly drowning him in your need.

He pulled back a moment later, strings of your desire still connecting you to his lips, before he swiped them away, licking them from his fingers.

At your whine, he only scoffed. "You don't finish anywhere but on my cock. You understand me?" He grumbled, standing up again, and unfastening his trousers, letting them and his boxers fall in a puddle on the floor in one swift, easy movement. When you glanced down, you could see he was already at full mast. Larger, thicker, veinier than any you had ever had before. It throbbed in his hand, with 3 beads of precum already leaking down his shaft. He palmed himself a moment, letting out a groan, holding his head in line with your clit as he rocked back and forth, gently. Just enough to soak himself in you.

"Mmm… I don't think you're wet enough." He grumbled, a smirk on his face. You were dripping on the counter, you could feel that already, so you knew he was lying, leading up to something. "So what are you gonna do about it?" You ask, locking your gaze with his own.

He pumps his fist along his cock still as he grins back at you, not averting his gaze as he spat, a thick glob of saliva landing right where his cock met your cunt. He smeared it on himself, on you - on where you both would soon become one - and he chuckled. "I always wanted to spit on you. Never thought you'd get so red from it." "I'm not red from tha-" You went to protest, but before you could finish, he had bucked, his entirety sheathed inside of you in one agonisingly ecstatic movement. All of him was buried in your warmth, and your walls shuddered around him. You didn't know which one of you had let out that moan - but you had a sneaky feeling it was both of you.

Your hand gripped his shirt, holding onto the fabric tightly, seeking to anchor yourself however you could, feeling how your body pulsated around him, acclimatising to his invasion. "Fuck," He cursed, resting his forehead on your shoulder, forcing himself to remain in place, not moving until you'd gotten used to him. "What, has it been so long since you've had a dick you re-virginised? You're so tight…" He ground his hips against your own, not yet pulling out, but making sure to give you that friction that brought another moan from your lips. "This pretty pussy's been needing a stretch. Don't worry, Princess, I'll give her a workout."

With that, he pulled back, each inch that he rescinded leaving you clenching down on nothing, feeling desperate without him. Against your will, you whined, tangling your fist further in the fabric of his shirt, urging him back again. Even after pulling out so slowly, he bucked in fast, torturous and barbaric in his speed. He bucked so hard that your entire body jolted with the collision between you, but he pulled back as if he wanted to watch you crying at the loss of him.

"What's the matter, Princess? You look about ready to sob." He mocked, before grunting as he thrust back in, just as hard, and you cried out in your mixed delight and pleasure. "You're the worst," You retort, through gritted teeth, trying to maintain your brain function even as every slight movement of his cock penetrating you seemed to make you want to melt into him, drooling and moaning like a moron who knew nothing other than taking Logan's cock. "Am I?" He purred in return, grinding his teeth as he let out three sharp thrusts in succession, robbing you of your breath as you forced your nails into his chest, drawing a groan of animalistic delight from him.

"Sounds to me like you're 'boutta cum, Princess. If I'm the worst… maybe I'll just stop." "No!" God, your voice sounded so breathy as it echoed back around the room, and Logan lit up at the sound. "No?" He parrotted, lips pursed and eyes amused, before he tutted. "No what? Use your words." "No, don't stop." "You don't want me to stop. 'cause I'm not the worst, right?" "N-not the worst…" You repeated. "Not the worst. Good girl, Princess. I'm the man who's 'boutta make you cum all over my cock, ain't I? I'm the best I am at what I do. And what I do is fucking girls like you 'til you're stupid. Right?"

By now your tongue had gone numb. You couldn't form a word in your mind, let alone in your throat or mouth. Instead, all that passed your lips were gasps and mewls and needy moans, as you forced yourself to nod, trying to get your point across.

It seemed Logan was too far gone as well, as he grinned down at you, feral and angry and delighted.

He leaned in, pressing heated, feverish kisses all over your neck, up and along the column of your throat before his forehead rested on yours.

"Fuck, Princess. I'm not gonna last much longer…" He panted out, his thrusts becoming faster and faster, no longer taunting you, and instead chasing his peak. His free hand reached down as well, his fingers splayed over your womb whilst his thumb played with your red, sensitive clit, eliciting another loud moan from you.

"Where'd you want it?" Logan snarled. "Tell me, and fast before I… ngh." He bucked, his movements sloppy and desperate. You longed for his warmth inside of you. To feel him spill and buck and ride out his afterglow whilst still nestled in your perfect pussy. To watch the look on his face as he pulled out and saw his own seed oozing from you. "Inside," You demand, the only full word you've managed in a long while. "P…please… inside. Inside." "Wish is my command, darlin'." He grunted out.

His lips crashed against your own, tasking of whiskey and pine and your own sweet nectar, the sensation of receiving a kiss from Logan so tender and desperate finally being enough to tip you over that final cliff.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, tugging him closer, as your pussy fluttered all around him, milking him for all he was worth, as a wave of white-hot euphoria rolled over your mind. Your moans were swallowed by Logan's mouth, as he kept kissing you, letting his own moans and grunts escape as well, the shared sounds of your pleasure rumbling in the caverns of your mouths. "Just like that." He rumbled, between open mouth kisses, murmuring into the plush flesh of your lips. "Cum all over me baby. Make my fuckin' day."

You barely even felt the sensation you'd so longed for as Logan buried himself as deep as he could inside of you, spilling every drop of his cum inside of you, whilst you squeezed every ounce he was worth, the pair of you riding out your orgasms at once.

It took a few seconds for you to catch your breath. Both of you had heaving chests and red faces. Logan pulled free from your lips, though not before offering one teasing, apologetic lip to the seam of your mouth, as though to apologise for kissing so hard and leaving you swollen.

You slid an arm around his shoulders, a silent plea not to pull away, as you pulled him in for one more kiss.

But he froze halfway, and glanced down at his trousers, his eyes growing wide and his jaw tensing.

"Logan? What's the matter?" You ask, leaning forward and glancing down as well, brow furrowed. "I didn't mute the comms." He replied, bluntly.

Didn't mute the comms. The comms that had been in his pocket, and would have picked up their activities.

"Get back to the blackbird, you two. Now. Before you're kicked out of the casino." Scott's voice, tinny and furious, escaped the two comms, even from where they were buried in Logan's discarded trousers. "And don't think for a moment you're not going to be punished for this."

Logan chuckled, reaching down to fasten his trousers back on, returning his gaze to you. "I dunno about you, Princess… but I don't care if I get punished. We're doing that again on the way back. C'mon."

You slid your panties and your dress back into place, stood from the counter and took his hand, heading out of the casino with him, already brimming with excitement for round two - this time with muted comms.

I hope you enjoyed and hope I did this justice - I've not really written enemies to lovers before so this was super fun <3 Feedback is super appreciated so please let me know if you enjoyed!! If you're interested, my requests are open so please feel free to send me any questions, ideas or headcanons you'd like me to explore (please just make sure you've read my pinned post first) TYSM for reading and hope you enjoy <3

[auncyen]

continuing this even though it's not supposed to continue, what is self-control

-

You were supposed to be on bed rest. Healing Craft had made recent advances like Body Craft (unsurprising, with how the two are linked), but while your arm could be quickly set and mended, healers are leery of using large amounts of Craft near vital organs unless it's life or death, so after the Head Housemaiden herself read your energy to make sure there wasn't any life-threatening, the best treatment for a concussion and bruised ribs was… rest. She told Mira herself to make sure you get plenty of it, and Mira always was a stickler for the rules, especially when it came to healing and getting better. You expected Mira to herd you back to bed when she caught you sneaking out of the infirmary. (You thought it was night and everyone would be asleep; apparently it was just evening and the Housemaiden in charge of the infirmary just took a break for their dinner. Being laid up in bed had messed with your sense of time.) But Mira looked up at you with a sad smile and gestured for your arm, resting it across her shoulders. "If you feel dizzy, lean on me. You want to see Siffrin, right?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "Thanks, Mira."

You made your way up to the third floor with Mira, taking a break once on the stairs when you got too dizzy and she had to brace you from cracking your skull on the steps. She started to chew her nails, anxious, so you gently took one of her hands and squeezed it.

"Ah! Thank you…"

You both sat in silence for a moment. Neither of you seemed to know what to say, and you were still trying to get the spinning feeling in your head to settle down. You were glad most of the Housemaidens were at dinner, so no one was trying to step over you.

"How's Bonbon doing?" you asked as your mind strayed to them. They'd been at your side when you were first helped to the infirmary, but after you first went to sleep, they left, and you hadn't seen them since. You hoped they realized you'd get better. Sure, any future head injuries could be riskier for you, but you weren't going to be trying to get injured.

"…They're scared," Mira said, squeezing your hand herself this time. "They had a nightmare about going back to Bambouche and finding their sister still frozen. She shouldn't be, everyone else is fine now! But with what happened to Siffrin…"

Your heart sank. Siffrin froze after the King was defeated, something that shouldn't have happened when the King was responsible for the Curse. It was upsetting and confusing for everyone, but especially for a preteen who last saw their one family member slowly freezing, yelling for them to run. "And M'dame hasn't figured out what caused it?"

Mirabelle shook her head. "She's frustrated. I am too. I figured out how to cure others of the Curse, at least if they hadn't been frozen too long! But every time I've tried with Siffrin, it's the same result--as soon as I feel even a little of Siffrin's energy come back, it's gone again. It's like the Curse on Siffrin is perpetuating itself somehow, or…" She shook her head.

Or it had been too long. You wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all, that Sif had fought to save a country that wasn't even their own only to be consumed by the Curse, and then you realized you were crying and rubbed one eye to ward off the tears before Mira could notice. She did, though, and leaned over to hug you.

"I'm going to keep trying!" Mira promised, her own eyes watering. "I'm definitely not giving up!"

"I know you aren't," you said. "And if you can still feel Sif in there, that's got to be a good sign, right?"

She nodded. "Right."

Good, good. You needed to hold on to that. "I just wish there was something I could do to help too."

Mira frowned at you. "You've already done so much, Isabeau. I'll help you see Siffrin, but then please rest, okay?"

"Alright. I don't want to worry you."

With most of the dizziness passed, Mira helped you back to your feet, and you both visited Siffrin.

He was still in the large hall where you'd fought the King. You knew from the Houses in Jouvente that this hall was used for House-wide gatherings, like part of the festivals for Housemaidens to show how they'd changed. You…weren't sure they'd be doing festivities in here, at least not until someone figured out how to free Siffrin from the Curse. Because there had to be a way.

Siffrin was right where you'd left him: on his knees, his body slumped in such exhaustion it looked like defeat, even though he'd just helped win the fight against the King. You felt the guilt stab between your bruised ribs. Something had been wrong that day, and you'd known there was something wrong, and you'd let him put you off until 'after the King'.

Logically, you couldn't have known they'd be frozen even if you won, and it's not like they froze because you didn't talk. The Curse was due to the King. Siffrin's feelings had nothing to do with the King, and that awful man had disappeared. But.

You couldn't forget how distraught Siffrin had been right before he'd frozen.

Mira tried once again to unfreeze Siffrin. She knelt in front of him, placed her hands on his frozen ones, and then clapped firmly, one-two-three. She placed her hands back on his and shook her head. Two minutes passed as she regathered her energy, and then she clapped again, three times, focusing her Craft with each clap.

On the third round of three claps, she sighed, then jolted so quickly that you rocked yourself where you sat, your head swimming at the sudden movement. "Siffrin?!" This time, instead of reaching for their hands, she cupped their cheeks, peering at them.

You couldn't tell what she'd seen at first, but when you realized, your heart pounded. His mouth was still smiling, but now the lips were slightly parted. The sigh hadn't come from Mira.

"Sif!"

"See, they're here, I just need to, I'm not doing something right--" Mira tried Lovely Moving Cure again, and again, and again, always clapping in rounds of three. You weren't paying attention to her, too focused on Siffrin. You didn't think about how the clapping had become frantic, about how she wasn't taking the time for cooldown, you were just focused on Sif's face, hoping you'd see next time they moved, hoping they'd stay moving--

But then Mira sagged, slumping against his frozen frame from Craft exhaustion. "Mira!"

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm fine, I'm…" Her shoulders shook. "I'm sorry, Siffrin, I'm sorry…"

You peeled her off of Siffrin so she could cry on someone a little softer, even if your ribs protested the extra weight against them.

"At least… at least they're smiling," Mira said when she was a little calmer. "People keep talking about how getting frozen didn't make them dream, just made one thought stretch out forever. Siffrin was so upset, but, but…" Her voice wavered. "They must have realized just in time that we did win, and you'd be okay. I'm going to figure out what I'm doing wrong and cure them. But at least until then, they're happy."

"…Yeah." You were glad she was looking down, still trying to regather herself after the tears, because you're not sure you could have looked her in the eye. Was Sif really happy, just because he was smiling? He'd been…blaming himself for you getting hurt, and saying he was going to get Mira or Odile hurt next… had he thought of something genuinely happy? Or had he just thought, 'at least I won't get them hurt'? Because that wasn't right at all. It was self-blaming, it was wrong, he hadn't done anything wrong, he'd locked up in the fight but it was a fight no one could ever have been fully ready for or should've had to fight to begin with, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek before you thought about it too much and cried yourself.

Mira was strong and determined, and she had M'dame Odile and other Housemaidens trying to help her figure out how Siffrin had frozen to fix it. She'd cure Siffrin, and then you'd hug Sif show him at a close but still respectful distance that you were fine and make sure they knew what you knew, that the King was the only one to blame for you getting hurt. Until then, you hoped you were wrong about what Sif's one thought was.

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for @this-was-a-terrible-idea behind the cut; mirrorverse!Clark and Kon's daddy issues both get some. Full disclosure, I was trying to wrap up the fic with these sentences so I stopped counting and took a looooong time getting them done, and then I realized I had gone WELL over and there was notably more fic left to write than I'd previously realized, so yeah, haha, never mind that, apparently, I'm just posting what I was supposed to and I'll have to finish it later. I TRIED, I SWEAR. ( chrono || non-chrono )

“You mean it?” Kon asks, trying not to hate himself for it. 

“Of course I do,” Superman says, then kisses down his neck again; pets up the line of his hip again. Kon kind of wants to cry some more, but honestly doesn’t think he could if he tried. “You did so well for me. You were everything I could’ve asked for and more.” 

Never mind. Kon apparently can cry some more. 

“Thank you,” he chokes, lifting a hand to help him hide his face even as he turns it towards the mattress. Superman keeps petting him. Keeps kissing him, little scattered presses of his mouth dropped here and there against Kon’s skin. 

And keeps talking, too. 

“Oh, you’ve thanked me plenty, Kon-El,” he hums contentedly into the corner of his jaw, tracing the “S” on the shoulder of the jacket that Kon’s somehow managed not to lose, and all Kon wants is to give him everything he wants. He’s not stupid enough to do that, obviously, in the sense of if Superman asked him to kill or betray somebody for him he wouldn’t, but he is stupid enough to be in this bed with layered bruises shaped like the other's hands and mouth. Kon doesn’t bruise often, for obvious reasons. Even when someone can hit him hard enough to affect his Kryptonian biology, there’s still the TTK to get through. 

The only thing his TTK’s done since this Superman first touched him is fucking collapse, though. 

Superman traces the El crest again. Kon is very, very aware that the actual reason he never lost his jacket through the whole process of getting his brains fucked out and very literally breaking the bed is because Superman wanted him to wear that crest through that whole process. 

Wants him wearing it even now. 

Kon wants to cry about that too, and maybe does a little. Superman presses a kiss in behind his ear and slides a hand down over his stomach. Or–under it, a little more like. 

Kon’s stomach is flat, obviously. The six-pack version of “flat”, but flat. 

Superman’s hand is positioned like he’s cradling it, though. Positioned like . . . 

"You'll take care of your daddy's baby, won't you, sweetheart?” Superman murmurs, pressing another kiss to the back of Kon’s neck as he splays his big broad hand across his stomach. “Raise them to be good like you? Proud to wear my crest?” 

"Y-yes, Daddy,” Kon stutters, digging his fingers into the mattress as something painful stabs him straight through the heart. 

"That's my boy,” Superman praises with obvious satisfaction, and tugs his face to turn so he can kiss him again as he slides a hand down to hook his fingers inside his cunt. Kon whimpers into his mouth, and feels Superman smile against his own. 

It’s a long time before Superman’s done with him, again. Kon gets fucked, and kissed, and then Superman takes him to the little adjoining bathroom and fucks him again in the shower, and then he . . . then he cleans him up, to the point he even washes his fucking hair for him. Kon feels like a thing, feels like a whore, feels weak and defenseless and like–like–

Superman kisses him again as he presses their bodies back together and coaxes him into both riding his fingers and fucking his fist, into begging for more despite how sore and exhausted he is, and Kon doesn't know how he feels at all. 

He comes for it, though. 

And he kisses him back, obviously. 

Kon almost cries again when Superman dries his hair for him after they’re done. 

“Such a treasure,” Superman murmurs admiringly as he sweeps Kon's hair back off his face, sounding exactly like Clark does when he talks to Jon, and Kon does, in fact, cry a little more. Just a couple more tears, but . . . 

Superman kisses those tears off his face with a soothing hum, and Kon shudders. 

“Daddy,” he rasps hoarsely, his voice still a little too tight, and Superman kisses him again. Kisses him slow and sweet and tender, and holds him like he's something worth holding on to. Something . . . precious. 

Kon fucking hates himself. 

His TTK field still won't come back up, and he doesn't know if any part of him has even tried to compartmentalize any of this. Not even a little bit. 

Superman strokes his fingers down his stomach, lingering and possessive, and Kon shudders again. 

[punsmaster69]

3/DEC/20XX

"I've always said that filling a glass to the brim is the most efficient method..."

flowey turned to me with the most shit-eating grin i think i've seen from him yet.

"But wow. I mean, really, 𝘞𝘖𝘞.

You reeaally took that to heart."

"soul, technically."

"Whatever. Point is, you've messed yourself up baadd."

"You can barely 𝘀𝗲𝗲!"

"noticed that. not why we're here though, petals."

"I- PETALS?!"

"Do NOT call me that!"

i considered saying something like, "ok, whatever you say, petals." but didn't.

flowey's not gonna actually help me if i piss him off too bad.

well.

helping is what i 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 him to do...

instead he's taken the opportunity to get out all the snide remarks he's got about my whole overflow thing going on.

pretty sure he's been biting these back real hard while the others were around.

——

he's still going.

what a butthead.

hm.

know he likes...

dinosaurs.

dragons.

video games.

'specially that one character. a dino of some kind.

the color green.

drawing. (with frisk, usually.)

puzzles.

candy. loves candy.

loves anything sweet, really.

ok. any of those sound like gift ideas?

whatever. guess i'll figure it out later.

...

wow, he's still talking.

"......."

nevermind, he stopped.

"Why do you keep looking at me, then at the page?"

"Are you really writing ALL of this down?"

"nah."

"What ARE you writing, then?"

"just random thoughts."

"Ew. Nevermind. I don't wanna hear about whatever goes on in that probably-hollow skull of yours."

"k."

"got any ideas for frisk's, yet?"

flowey's face tells me he's forgotten that's why he was here to begin with.

"........."

and his silence tells me that he really doesn't have any.

"...ok."

"let's come back to this."

"got ideas for tori?"

"NO."

"what? can't get her gifts now?"

"You're gonna be all gross about it!"

"gross?"

"Romatical!"

"...romantic..al?"

"That's the word."

"romantic?"

"no 'a', no 'l'."

"You get what I mean!"

"not gonna be, 'romantical' about it."

"pure-intentioned holiday gifts."

"𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺?"

"not sure what to call it anymore."

"Obviously-"

"Obviously..."

his face shifted as he thought about it.

"...Christmas."

"or gyftmas?"

"Have you just been calling it 'holiday' this whole time?"

"been switching between the three."

"so, no ideas?"

"........."

"ok. welp. since you've apparently only agreed to come here so you could berate me.."

"i'm kicking you out."

"....."

"Fine! Good! I don't wanna be in your terrible room anymore."

so i carried him to papyrus' room.

paps looked up from his book.

"HELLO SANS! AND HELLO, FLOWERY."

"Howdy."

with having set flowey on the end of paps' bed, that kid's decidedly no longer my problem.

"bug him for a while. i'm outta here."

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

"back to bed."

"What??"

"gonna write the rest of the journal first, but yep."

"What time is it?"

"IT'S ABOUT NINE, I BELIEVE."

"...I spent three hours talking to YOU?!"

"OH! I SUPPOSE YOU SHOULD BE GETTING HOME, FLOWERY."

he closed his book and hopped up.

"AWAY WE GO!"

flowey was being carried out the door before he could even start to say anything about it.

——

still blank on the present-idea front, but there's plenty of december left to think it over.

maybe i'll ask tori about frisk's.

[lividria]

Saw your post about that one ttyd dream you had… Tell me more about your other dreams that you’ve had

okay so naturally having been alive for 16 years i've had a lot of dreams, given the specific mention of the blavio post i assume you mean more video game dreams, most of my notable ones related to games are about games made up in those dreams and not existing games, and the ones usually taking place in existing games aren't actually that interesting, the blavio dream was a rare example of a funny one so i'd need to dig through my dream logs to see if i can find any others that are actually entertaining and not just "huh. that was odd" that you forget in 5 minutes

so i'll get around to it since blavio is on his way to becoming my most popular post, i just need to find the good ones, i have plenty of non-game dreams that are interesting that i'll probably catalog along the way though, there was an entire period of time where every other dream of mine was an entire quest with an actual "consistent" story arc

but to not leave this ask actually unanswered, i'll talk about a personal favorite of mine that isn't a video game dream (video games do come up but they aren't the focus) but is fucking crazy, under the cut because it's several paragraphs

In the dream, I was living in some weird coastal town where my backyard (and everyone else's backyard) was like a straight slope down a couple feet and into the ocean, i know it was the ocean but there wasn't any sand or anything

an apocalyptic force called The Mind appeared over this town, taking the form of a giant black & purple smog cloud thing vaguely resembling a giant face, but like the face of the lava giant from moana not like a detailed face, and it would "steal people's consciousnesses" which is basically just randomly inflicting brain death to anyone in it's region and it would get bigger each time it did that

for some reason it would create this weird like white glassy/icy material it'd coat the ground with that i remember being called Ivory and build structures out of in the main smog cloud, like weird robot things that would bring something into the cloud, later in the dream there were entire people just inside of it somehow despite it not being solid so they might've been fucking dragging people into the mind, and there was one robot that looked like an E.M.M.I. from Metroid Dread if it was bulkier and it was somehow supposed to be benevolent but it didn't do anything in the dream lol

the mind stole my stepdad's consciousness so he was just unconscious in the middle of the road as everyone just kinda stood around but apparently he got over it because he woke up later in the dream and was completely fine lol

there was a cut to the white house because apparently this was a movie, where the government was panicking in the white house trying to figure out what to do, so they called in a guy from a previous movie in the saga because he was their only hope, it was adam sandler dressed as the nostalgia critic that's basically this dream's blavio actually, and apparently his deal was he was super lucky, and he took one look at the mind and wanted nothing to do with this shit obviously and i think he actually turned them down and that was it

meanwhile me and my family casually drove away from the mind and into a town just called The Village which was for some reason completely desolate besides for a family friend who we were going to stay with until the fucking apocalypse ended i guess, i accidentally left my ipad back at home so i just played on my nintendo switch instead trying to S rank the final level in Nefarious, an actual game i had finished around that time and i actually took like a month trying to S rank that level, great game go play it but don't try and S rank it jesus christ

and the dream just kinda ended there, i have the mind recycled and reworked as an antagonist in vivlore if anyone saw my posts about those but they won't come up for a while as i work on more of those when i work on more of those

hopefully this satiates you for now

[hopeymchope]

anon is misunderstanding or misinterpreting ym ask, I never at all expressed happiness over fuyuhiko's attempted suciide. In fact, it's the opposite. I was horrified at that scene and the mere idea or fact that saionji almost caused him to kill himself for real. fuyuhiko was a horrible person, but he did not deserve that. Besides, unlike hiyoko, he actually faced the consequences of his actions in a very brutal way and he chose to take a step back and realize how fucked up his murder was.

Note: This is a response to this other anon-sent ask.

Thank you kindly for responding to that other anon and clarifying your original ask.

Y'know, we've all kinda glossed over the fact that Fuyuhiko didn't actually kill Mahiru. He didn't even ask/order Peko to do so. Peko took that action on her own as part of her identity as his bodyguard (and someone who clearly loved him). And though I suppose that was because Fuyuhiko was about to do it just because he was pissed off that Mahiru dared to lecture him about revenge being wrong or whatever. Still, the fact remains that Hiyoko can't really scream at/blame the person most directly responsible.

"...but like, lethally."

Let's dig deeper into the Hiyoko/Fuyuhiko/Peko/Mahiru drama with some additional asks, shall we?

Did she have a right to be mad? Yeah, she does. Because Fuyuhiko was going to kill Mahiru for absolutely no good reason. So, sure. He was prepared to become a murderer for "revenge"... even though Fuyuhiko is apparently too stupid to realize that the Twilight Syndrome game clearly indicates he ALREADY got revenge on the person who killed his sister! That really makes his elaborate revenge plan look misguided from the jump. It's like he just wants to lash out at SOMEBODY because he saw that photo of dead Natsumi and had to learn for the first time — the second first time due to them losing their previous memories — that she'd been killed.

"'Because if so, I'll 'E' you next... wait."

Fuyuhiko was still in full acting-like-a-little-shit mode at this point in the story, so I guess him constantly lashing out and being quick to anger is pretty par for the course. But his anger at Mahiru for daring to suggest that maybe murder is bad is pretty much what got Mahiru murdered. That's plenty of reason to be pissed at him. And it's not like Peko is around for Hiyoko to blame anymore... so yeah, I get why she's pissed at Fuyuhiko.

Do I think the fact that she's an awful bully somehow strips her of the right to be upset that someone else was murdered? No, I don't think that way. I think they're separate issues. Just because Hiyoko doesn't have much moral high ground to stand on doesn't mean she can't still be upset over someone getting killed. Although I'm not necessarily defending telling someone else to kill themselves, either... that shit is pretty extreme. I would agree that she doesn't have the right to be saying that, because damn near nobody should be saying shit like that.

That's up to interpretation, but I think when he charged in to try and protect Peko, he was already willing to die to save her. And then he fails... which naturally fills him with a big dose of despair. Since sacrificing himself was already on his mind AND his body was already pretty fucked up from his failed protection effort, I suspect it wasn't too big a leap for him to go from there to "fuck it, maybe I should just die for inspiring Peko's actions, getting her and Mahiru killed, etc."

And yet? I personally think most people who commit or try to commit suicide are likely to feel a screaming desire to stop it once they truly start dying. Because we all have inherent self-preservation instincts. So I bet there legit was a horrifying realization moment that accompanied the moment he felt himself slicing into his own side.

I'd like to think that if Fuyuhiko truly died, she'd definitely have a mental break over it. I don't believe Hiyoko's actually a full-on sociopath, y'know? Actually causing a death with her words would probably (hopefully?) put her through the mental wringer and hopefully generate some kind of self-reflection. I'm sure she'd struggle and try to deny any culpability at first, getting pissed at the suggestion that it was her fault. But I don't think she'd be able to run from the guilt forever. It might not be easy for her to change, but I imagine she'd come out the other side of her breakdown acting at least somewhat better on some level.

[akehoshimystar]

Kyoya SSR

Walking through paintings

Part 1

Ito: Sorry to keep you waiting. Here is today's lunch set.

Kyoya: Greeting. Are you busy? Ito: The lunchtime was really busy, but it's calmed down a lot now. Would you mind if I say "Welcome?" Kyoya: As long as it’s at your convenience, feel free to do so. Ito: Then I'll show you to your seat. This way, please. Kyoya: Seems like you've already adjusted to your new environment. Ito: I hope that’s the case… I still have many things to learn. Have you decided on your order? Kyoya: Yes, a cup of coffee, please. Ito: Understood. Please wait a moment…

Kyoya: Hmm? Hold on a second. Are you okay? Ito: ?

Following Shido-san's gaze, I looked at my hand and saw a scratch on the back of it. The blood was slowly seeping.

Ito: Ah, since when….? (Maybe it’s from earlier?)

I remembered when the number of customers was at its peak, I was trying to take out some dishes from the shelf in a hurry and my hand accidentally caught on the metal piece. Seems like I didn't notice it until now because it was a rush hour.

Ito: I'm sorry for showing you something unsightly. Kyoya: There's no need to apologize. More importantly, we need to do something about it immediately.

Shido-san took out something and handed it to me.

Kyoya: I know there are plenty of this here, but I want to feel relieved that you’re all right. You can use this. Ito: A bandage? (He’s really smart to carry it around all the time. And somehow….) Kyoya: What's wrong? The pain from the wound tends to increase as soon as you think about it, that’s really worrying. Ito: Oh, no. It doesn't hurt at all. (This one is thick. It’s ten times better than the bandage I usually use…!)

Part 2

Ito: Thank you so much for noticing it and for the bandage as well. I'll be more careful from now on. Kyoya: When you said “be more careful”, did you mean not letting the customers see it? Ito: Uh….. Kyoya: The best thing is to avoid getting hurt, no? Ito: Yes, thank you very much.

That was three days ago.

Ito: Oh… Unless someone look for it, the injury is not apparent anymore. It's pretty much healed now. (As expected of Shido-san's bandage. I have to thank him.)

Ito: [Thank you for the bandage the other day. It’s all healed without a trace left now.] [Next time, if you don't mind, I'd like to express my gratitude.]

Ito: Hopefully, that’s not too pushy.…. And sent. Oh, I already got a reply.

kyoya: [I'm glad you're doing better now.] [Regarding your gratitude. There's a place I'd like to go with you. Is that okay?]

Ito: (A place he wants to go with me…?)

Kyoya: This place is nice after all. Ito: I know what you mean. (So many beautiful paintings.) (I mean…. I was supposed to be the one to showing him my thanks, but he ended up buying me the ticket and doing everything by himself…) Kyoya: I've always wanted to come here with you. Ito: I'm really grateful to hear that, but I'm not sure if I can keep up with you. Kyoya: You don’t have to be so tense. Art is something you can enjoy in your own way. Ito: (Anyway, I need to be careful not to cause him any trouble.)

That's what I thought.

Ito: Wow, amazing…

I gasped and stopped in front of one painting.

Ito: I feel like I've become a bird just by looking at this composition. Kyoya: It's what they call a bird's-eye view technique. It's sometimes seen in Japanese paintings, but it's certainly rare in Western paintings. I'd like to hear why it struck a chord with you. Ito: Sure. I can't really explain it well, but I could feel the freedom out of this painting. It made me….want to breathe, I guess…?

Kyoya: Hmmm…. Ito: Ah… that was a strange impression, wasn't it? I hope you'll take it as just an individual's opinion. Kyoya: Your interpretation is interesting actually. Ito: Shido-san, are you the type to praise and encourage others? Kyoya: You think so? Well, I'm a high school teacher after all. What viewers feel from the painting in front of them is up to them. Besides, I'm glad to hear words that only Yashiro-san can craft. Ito: (.….I was nervous about what to say, though.) I feel so much better now. Kyoya: Really? That's good to hear. Ito: (Now I can enjoy looking at these paintings without complicating my mind.) Kyoya: ………

Part 3

Kyoya: From here on, it's the special exhibition that started last week. Ito: He's a famous artist overseas, isn't he? Kyoya: He's not as well-known as Picasso or Van Gogh, but I guess a good portion of people know him. Ito: Wow… A work from the 1920s, around 100 years ago. Kyoya: Yes, due to the flow of history, there are some parts that have been damaged, but volunteers have repaired it and it is still here today. Ito: …When I think about how many people must have worked hard to preserve this painting, it seems even more beautiful to me. Kyoya: That's right. Ito: All the paintings here are very lovely…….Nevertheless… Kyoya: ? Ito: No matter how well preserved it is, scratches and fading are inevitable. I think there must have been a certain charm to the work that the artist wanted to express that only exists when it was first painted.

When I muttered this, Shido-san looked at me in a bit of surprise.

Ito: N-Never mind. I just got carried away by the atmosphere and said something arrogant. Kyoya: Don’t beat yourself over it, that's a nice remark. Ito: Ah….. (Is it just me or Shido-san looks really happy for some reason?) Kyoya: Indeed, if I had the chance, I would like to see the world the same way it was seen by the artist. It would be quite interesting to have a comparative exhibition like that. Ito: I wonder if it's possible to recreate the colors of those days with CG now. Kyoya: I think it’s possible. It's just that the color changes depending on how the light hits it. But I will never know if that's the color the artist really saw.

Kyoya: Time really went by so quickly. I had a lot of fun thanks to you. Ito: Me too. Thank you for inviting me today. And for the bandage. Actually, while I was looking at the restored painting earlier, I thought to myself… The desire to pass on the painting to future generations in the best possible condition, and Shido-san’s feelings when he saw the wound and immediately gave me the bandage. I think the underlying feelings are actually the same… Kyoya: Oh yeah? That's also an interesting interpretation.

Shido-san said this as if he was savoring my words, and smiled with satisfaction.

Kyoya: Can I invite you again? Not as an excuse or gratitude. Ito: If you’re fine with me, please do so.

I didn’t know if my spending a meaningful time with Shido-san would be enough as a thank you. But the fact that he casually asked me to spend some time with him again eased that worry.

[downinthehull]

I love your fics sm, do you have any wipes or hcs you'd be willing to share?

aw, thank you friend! i'm very glad you like them! xx <3

and so sorry this took so long-but yes! i have a few things i'm willing to share!!! :>

here's a small snippet of a small stede fic i'm workin on!

->->-> Stede turns around quickly at the sound of his name, still holding onto the {trinket} tightly. At the sight of his friend, he quickly dons a smile that is only the tiniest bit exaggerated. 

“Edward!” he calls back, trying to keep his usual cheery tone but finding it becoming increasingly difficult. “Need something?”

Ed just shakes his head and brings his hand up to scratch at the back of his head where his hair is tied up. “No-no, just wanted to check in.” He chuckles, <-<-<-

i can't think of any particular trinket he might be holding, so excuse the {trinket} bit lmao. maybe someone has an idea? the trinket is sort of an important piece of the fic.

the working title is 'small stede and a very clueless ed' :> it's a canon era fic that i sorta imagine set between ep. 5 and 6? if i had to put it somewhere.

-----

here's another small bit of a fic that i honestly haven't worked on in a while-

->->-> Izzy is sitting on his bed, his back leaning against the wall while he plays with one of the ties that are usually wrapped above his elbow. That Lucius had been so kind to untie when Izzy had fussed about them. 

There hasn’t been much talking from Izzy yet. Just a few short sentences in the beginning, that turned into single words, and eventually evolved to babbles. 

Lucius didn’t mind really. He actually found it quite cute. 

“Look at you,” He finds himself cooing. “having fun?”

Izzy just makes a soft noise that sounds like an affirmation. Quickly returning to chewing on one of the ties. <-<-<-

this is from (what is supposed to be) the next fic in my MIHISHAA series-and i apparently haven't edited the doc since september-whoops

-----

here's a couple ideas i have!

stede pretending to be a doctor and taking care of ed (partially written)

the next part of my little izzy w/ cg lucius series (partially written)

the second chapter for Don't Cry, My Dear (partially written)

ed and little izzy wrapping up presents (which i posted on here as an unfinished fic, but i do plan on finishing it!) (halfway written)

mod au jack and little izzy (because jack is soft for izzy and no one can change my mind)

and i actually have an idea for a new series but i'm still not so sure about it- the working title for it is 'Baby Steps'. i'd love to talk about it more if anyone would like to hear more about it!!! there's still plenty of things i'm still trying to plan out for it :3

-----

i have so many WIPs but i have such a hard time finishing them 😔

i know there is literally no pressure to finish them by a certain time, but it stresses me out nonetheless. i honestly dunno why i've been having such a tough time trying to finish a fic-

but maybe writing for a few other fandoms would help? i had started to write about other fandoms but that quickly stopped lmao-but i think i'll be trying to do more of that!

still, how much i post about these pirates shall go unaffected!!! they're my lil guys <3

[quinn2sin]

The Parasite

The last action I ever took of my own volition was to claw at my own ear, screaming in panic and agony. The parasite had waited until I was asleep to make its move; by the time I woke up, it was far too late to keep it from burrowing deeper. I've since given a great deal of thought to various ways I might extract the parasite, but such thoughts are purely for my own entertainment. I'll never have the chance to put any of them into action.

I always imagine the parasite as resembling a worm, under an inch in length, curled into the spiral of my inner ear. I can envision it having affixed itself to the wall of the cochlea, extending tendrils through it and into my brain. I no longer feel it there, but its presence is undeniable. I know this because, since that painful morning, I have lost all control over my body. I am little more than a passenger, watching powerlessly as the parasite dictates my every action.

At first, the strangest thing about my new situation was how little changed. The parasite was apparently content to resume my daily routines, acting how I would have on my own. I do not know how it knew where I work; perhaps its grip on my mind extended to accessing my memories. I can suppose that this strangely banal few weeks were camouflage; if I began to behave erratically, someone might have noticed that something was amiss. I don't think it necessarily needed to worry about this, to be honest. I live alone, and have few friends, so I don't know who would have noticed any changes in behavior and cared enough to take action. Maybe this is why it chose me as its host.

The variations from my own routine began in small ways. The first incident I noticed was a trip to a hardware store, where it bought a tape measure. Little trips like this became increasingly common over the second month of my possession. It never visited the same store twice, and it never bought more than one or two small items. Duct tape, scissors, zip ties, a raincoat, gloves... I could only speculate on the purpose of these purchases, but without having to take part in any part of my own life, I had plenty of time to speculate. One of my darker theories was proven correct when it murdered someone.

He was one of my coworkers at the pharmacy, although we had barely ever spoken. He was perfectly talkative, always chattering away with the others about conspiracy theories and his own inane ideas about philosophy and the afterlife. As a human, I was too much of an introvert to ever react to him much, so I suppose he found me boring. One Saturday at the end of a particularly tiring shift, the parasite stayed on the clock just long enough to see him leave, then discreetly followed him out of the building. He lived close enough that he commuted by foot rather than by car, walking along the edge of the woods towards his neighborhood. He had his headphones in, so he was completely oblivious as I crept up behind him. The moment he became aware of my presence was when the scissors pierced the side of his neck. He tried to speak, or perhaps to scream, but no voice came to him, instead merely opening and closing his mouth like a suffocating fish. He slumped to the ground, bleeding onto the gravel of the path, and I quickly pocketed the scissors and went on my way as if nothing had happened. Nobody had seen it happen.

At first, I was struck by how easy it was to kill someone. I always imagined that murdering someone would be a long, messy affair, with the victim flailing and screaming and fighting back. The way my coworker died, it was about as dramatic of a confrontation as unscrewing a light bulb. One moment he was a man, the next he was meat. Is it always like that, or is the parasite simply an expert at killing? Never having taken a life of my own volition, I couldn't say. The parasite's actions and intentions were, and still are, completely opaque to me. When I returned to work the next day, I was sure that there would be a cloud of fear and paranoia suffocating the workplace, but everything was the same. Nobody had reported the murder. The only thing out of place was that there was a little less monotonous chatter during my breaks. It was one of the more pleasant days I've had at work.

The second person the parasite killed was an old lady who lived in my apartment complex. I can't say she deserved to be murdered, although she did have a habit of leaving long, hostile notes on my door whenever I made even the slightest noise after sunset. Getting into her apartment was a simple affair; I simply knocked on her door, and when she started to crack it open, I shoved it forcefully, knocking her over in the process. A little duct tape over the mouth kept her from raising a fuss, and with that, there was nothing to prevent the parasite from its bloody work. I'll spare you the description of the torment the parasite subjected her to, although I confess I was impressed with its sadistic creativity, but the end result was the same as with its first victim. A person became a thing, and the world was none the wiser as to the identity of her killer.

As a helpless spectator in what I was beginning to think of as the parasite's body more than my own, I found myself looking forward to the killings. My ordinary life was so achingly dull even when I was in control of it, so having to watch someone else go through the motions was almost unbearable. The murders, however, gave me something to look forward to. Who was it planning to kill next? What was its plan for evading detection? I had a front row seat to a series of murder mysteries that the world seemed powerless to solve. I alone knew the horrible secret of their alien perpetrator. The best part of the whole affair was that it never seemed interested in killing anyone I liked. Each time it took a life, it was someone who would scarcely be missed, and my own life became a little bit more comfortable.

Taking the train home, I can hardly hear myself think. A homeless man has set up a keyboard in the middle of the car, playing discordant tones and hollering about Jesus and harassing everyone around him for money. Each time his keyboard's digital parody of a pipe organ plays another shrill chord, it's like an icepick to my brain. If only this person would disappear, I'd be able to enjoy my commute in peace.

The parasite reached into my pocket, verifying the presence of the switchblade concealed within. I think it's going to be a good day.

[flufffysocks]

let's talk about andi mack's worldbuilding

sorry this took forever to make! i've been pretty busy with school stuff and i kind of lost my inspiration for a bit, but i ultimately really enjoyed writing it! i wish i could've included more pics (tumblr has a max of 10 per post), and it kinda turned from less of a mini analysis to more of an extremely long rant... but i hope it's still a fun read!

i've been rewatching the show over the past few weeks (thanks again to @disneymack for the link!), and i’ve been noticing a lot that i never did the first time around. this is really the first time i’ve watched the show from start to finish since it aired, and it honestly feels so different this time - probably a combination of the fact that i’m not as focused on plot and can appreciate the show as a whole, and also that the fandom is much, much smaller now, so there’s a lot less noise. so the way i’m consuming this show feels super different than it did the first time, but the show itself doesn’t - it’s just as warm and comforting to me as it was the first time around, if not more so.

i think a lot of that can be attributed to andi mack’s “worldbuilding”. i’m not quite sure that this is the right word in this context, to be honest, because i mostly see it used in reference to fantasy and sci-fi universes, but it just sort of feels right to me for andi mack, because you can really tell how much love and care went into constructing this universe. for clarity, worldbuilding is “the process of creating an imaginary world” in its simplest sense. there’s two main types: hard worldbuilding, which involves inventing entire universes, languages, people, cultures, places, foods, etc. from scratch (think “lord of the rings” or “dune”), and soft worldbuilding, in which the creators don’t explicitly state or explain much about the fictional universe, but rather let it’s nature reveal itself as the story progresses (think studio ghibli films). andi mack to me falls in the soft worldbuilding category. even though it takes place in a realistic fiction universe, there’s a lot of aspects to it that are inexplicably novel in really subtle ways.

so watching the show now, i’ve noticed that the worldbuilding comes primarily from two things - setting and props, and oftentimes the both of them in tandem (because a big part of setting in filmmaking does depend on the props placed in it!).

one of the most obvious examples is the spoon. it really is a sort of quintessential, tropic setting in that it's the main gang's "spot", which automatically gives it a warm and homey feel to it. and its set design only amplifies this:

the choice to make it a very traditional 50s-style diner creates a very nostalgic, retro feel to it, which is something that's really consistent throughout the show, as you'll see. from the round stools at the bar, to the booths, to the staff uniforms, this is very obvious. the thing that i found especially interesting about it though is the choice of color. the typical 50s diner is outfitted with metallic surfaces and red accented furnishings, but the spoon is very distinctly not this.

instead, it's dressed in vibrant teal and orange, giving it a very fresh and modern take on a classic look. so it still maintains that feeling of being funky and retro, but that doesn't retract from the fact that the show is set distinctly in modern times.

of course, this could just be a one-off quirky set piece, but this idea of modernizing and novelizing "retro" things is a really common motif throughout the show. take red rooster records. i mean, it's a record shop - need i say more? it's obviously a very prominent store in shadyside, at least for the main characters, but there's no apparent reason why it is (until season 2 when bowie starts working there, and jonah starts performing there). a lot of the time, though, it functions solely as a record shop. vinyl obviously isn't the most practical or convenient way of listening to music, but it's had its resurgence in pop culture even in the real world, mostly due to its aesthetic value, so it's safe to say that it serves the same purpose in the andi mack universe.

the fringe seems to be nostalgic of a different era, specifically the Y2K/early 2000s period (because it's meant to be bex's territory and symbolic of who she used to be, and its later transformation into cloud 10 is representative of her character arc, but that's beside the point). to be honest, exactly what this store was supposed to be always confused me. it was kind of a combination party store/clothing store/makeup store/beauty parlor? i think that's sort of the point of it though, it's supposed to feel very grunge-y and chaotic (within the confines of a relatively mellow-toned show, of course), and it's supposed to act as a sort of treasure chest of little curios that both make the place interesting and allow the characters to interact with it.

and, of course, there's andi shack. this is really the cherry on top of all of andi mack's sets, just because it's so distinctly andi. it serves such amazing narrative purpose for her (ex. the storyline where cece and ham were going to move - i really loved this because it highlights its place in the andi mack universe so well, and i'm a sucker for the paper cranes shot + i'm still salty that sadie's cranes didn't make it into the finale) and it's the perfect reflection of andi's character development because of how dynamic it is (the crafts and art supplies can get moved around or switched out, and there's always new creations visible).

going back to the nostalgia motif though, the "shack" aspect of it always struck me as very treehouse-like. personally, whenever i think of treehouses, there's this very golden sheen of childhood about it, if that makes sense. i've always seen treehouses in media as a sort of shelter for characters' youthful innocence and idealistic memories. for example, the episode "up a tree" from good luck charlie, the episode "treehouse" from modern family, and "to all the boys 2" all use a treehouse setting as a device to explore the character's desire to hold onto their perfect image of their childhood (side note: this exact theme is actually explored in andi mack in the episode "perfect day 2.0"!). andi shack is no exception to this, but it harnesses this childhood idealism in the same way that it captures the nostalgia of the 50s in the spoon, or the early 2000s in the fringe. it's not some image of a distant past being reflected through that setting; it's very present, and very alive, because it reflects andi as she is in the given moment.

some honorable mentions of more one-off settings include the ferris wheel (from "the snorpion"), the alley art gallery (from "a walker to remember"), SAVA, the color factory (from "it's a dilemna"), and my personal favorite, the cake shop (from "that syncing feeling").

[every time i watch this episode i want to eat those cakes so bad]

these settings have less of a distinctly nostalgic feel (especially the color factory, which is a very late 2010s, instagram era setting), but they all definitely have an aura of perfection about them. andi mack is all about bright, colorful visuals, and these settings really play to that, making the andi mack universe seem really fun and inviting, and frankly very instagrammable (literally so, when it comes to the color factory!).

props, on the other hand, are probably a much less obvious tool of worldbuilding. they definitely take up less space in the frame and are generally not as noticeable (i'm sure i'll have missed a bunch that will be great examples, but i'm kind of coming up with all of this off the top of my head), but they really tie everything together.

for example, bex's box, bex's polaroid, and the old tv at the mack apartment (the tv is usually only visible in the periphery of some shots, so you might not catch it at first glance) all complement that very retro aesthetic established through the settings (especially the polaroid and the tv, because there's really no good reason that the characters would otherwise be using these).

besides this, andi's artistic nature provides the perfect excuse for plenty of colorful, crafty props to amplify the visuals and the tone. obviously, as i discussed before, andi shack is the best example of this because it's filled with interesting props. but you also see bits of andi's (and other people's) crafts popping up throughout the show (ex. the tape on the fridge in the mack apartment, andi's and libby's headbands in "the new girls", walker's shoes, andi's phone case, and of course, the bracelet). not only does doing this really solidify this talent as an essential tenet of andi's character, but it also just makes the entirety of shadyside feel like an extension of andi shack. the whole town is a canvas for her crafts (or art, depending on how you want to look at it. i say it's both), and it immensely adds to shadyside's idealism. because who wouldn't want to live in a world made of andi mack's creations?

and, while it's not exactly a prop, the characters' wardrobe is undoubtedly a major influence on the show's worldbuilding. true to it's nature as a disney channel show, all of the characters are always dressed in exceptionally curated outfits of whatever the current trends are, making the show that much more visually appealing. i won't elaborate too much on this, because i could honestly write a whole other analysis on andi mack's fashion (my favorites are andi's and bex's outfits! and kudos to the costume designer(s) for creating such wonderful and in-character wardrobes!). but, i think it's a really really important aspect of how the show's universe is perceived, so it had to be touched upon.

[^ some of my favorite outfits from the show! i am so obsessed with andi's jacket in the finale, and i aspire to be at bex's level of being a leather jacket bisexual]

and lastly, phones. this is a bit of an interesting case (pun intended), because the way they're used fluctuates a bit throughout the show, but i definitely noticed that at least in the first season terri minsky tried to avoid using them altogether. these efforts at distancing from modern tech really grounds the show in it's idealist, nostalgia-heavy roots, so even when the characters start using their phones more later in the show, they don't alter the viewer's impression of the andi mack universe very much.

so, what does all of this have to do with worldbuilding? in andi mack's case, because it's set in a realistic universe and not a fantasy one, a lot of what sets it apart from the real world comes down to tone. because, as much as this world is based on our own, it really does feel separate from it, like an alternate reality that's just slightly more perfect than ours, which makes all the difference. it's the idealism in color and composition in andi mack's settings that makes it so unmistakably andi mack. even the weather is always sunny and perfect (which is incredibly ironic because the town is called shadyside - yes, i am very proud of that observation).

the andi mack universe resides somewhere in this perfect medium that makes it feel like a small town in the middle of nowhere (almost like hill valley in 1955 from "back to the future"), but at the same time like an enclave within a big city (because of its proximity to so many modern, unique, and honestly very classy looking establishments). it is, essentially, an unattainable dream land that tricks you into believing it is attainable because it's just real enough.

all this to say, andi mack does an amazing job of creating of polished, perfect world for its characters. this is pretty common among disney channel and nickelodeon shows, but because most other shows tend to be filmed in a studio with three-wall sets, andi mack is really set apart from them in that it automatically feels more real and tangible. it has its quintessential recurring locations, but it has far more of them (most disney/nick shows usually only have 3-4 recurring settings), and it has a lot more one-off locations. it's also a lot more considerate when it comes to its props, so rather than the show just looking garish and aggressively trendy, it has a distinctive style that's actually appropriate to the characters and the story. overall this creates the effect of expanding the universe, making shadyside feel like it really is a part of a wider world, rather than an artificial bubble. it's idealism is, first and foremost, grounded in reality, and that provides a basis for its brilliant, creative, and relatable storytelling.

tl;dr: andi mack's sets and props give it a very retro and nostalgic tone which makes its whole universe seem super perfect and i want to live there so bad!!

[phoenixthemenace]

Here's three chapters of silliness I occasionally play with. It's a ghost fic, so of course major character deaths are involved. Swearing, implied smut and blasphemy are also involved. There's no real plot. Read at your own risk! 🤣

Who's the Phantom Now, Chet!

"Shit!" Johnny yelled.

"You can say that again." Roy muttered.

"Shit."

"Smart ass."

They helped each other up and dusted each other off. Johnny was a bit too... enthusiastic.

"Johnny-"

"You got a little more-"

"Johnny-"

"And a little right-"

"JOHNMMPH!"

That shut him up. For a minute anyway.

"Pretty sure the back of my throat wasn't dusty."

"Just makin' sure your tonsils haven't grown back."

That damned impish grin. If they hadn’t been in a burning building Roy might have taught him a lesson or two on anatomy.

"Let's get out of here," he said instead.

They took in their surroundings, the landscape having changed since the roof collapsed.

"I thought we were in here alone?" Johnny said, pointing to a debris pile a few feet away.

"We were." Roy said blankly.

"Then who's that?" Johnny asked as they hurried forward.

"Shit." Roy muttered.

"You can say that again." Johnny yelled.

Then at the same time:

"Shit."

"Smart ass."

Silence.

"Well," Roy said musefully. "I didn't feel anything, did you?"

"Nope."

"Well. There's that I guess."

Another silence.

"That's really gross." Johnny said.

Roy laughed.

"Gives a new meaning to dying in your arms." Roy said, slipping his arms around his partner, mirroring the pair on the floor.

"God Roy. I'm sorry"

"Me too."

Johnny suddenly poked Roy hard.

"Ouch! The hell you do that for?"

Johnny didn't answer as he walked towards the rubble. He tried to move one of the fallen beams but his hands just sunk through. Same with the victims. He walked back to Roy and poked him again. Roy slapped his hands away.

"Huh." Johnny said. He walked over to a wall.

Stuck his head through it. Jumped up and down a few times as he walked back towards Roy.

"Poke me again and I'll slug you." Roy grumbled.

Johnny grabbed his ass.

"Johnny!!!"

"Interesting."

"What's interesting!"

"We can touch each other, and the ground, but we walk through walls and piles of rubble."

"Johnny! We're dead, and THIS is what you worry about?!"

"Well. Yeah. Except isn't there supposed to be a light or a tunnel or something?"

"What?" Apparently the Gage brain made less sense in the afterlife.

Johnny, meanwhile, noticed that Roy's coat was unbuttoned, giving clear access to the top of Roy's turnouts. He waltzed over, pulled them away from Roy's body and looked. Then he reached in.

"Johnny!" Roy squawked.

"Hey! It's still there!" He said gleefully. "Wonder if it still works?"

He tried a few experimental strokes..

"It does!" His expression grew lecherous. "So does mine apparently."

"Johnny! We're dead and all you can think of is sex?"

"Hey, it's not just only on my mind Pally."

"That's…not..you've got..just.. get off!" Roy said, flustered, slapping Johnny’s hands away.

"It's a long afterlife, Pally. Just making sure there's plenty to do."

Roy rolled his eyes.

"I would have thought you'd have plenty to do just tormenting Chet."

Johnny beamed.

"Hey! I never thought of that!"

Roy followed his beautiful nut of a partner as he ran off through the building. Johnny stopped and pressed his ear to a wall. He put his fingers to his lips and mouthed 'on the count of three.'

In a moment of beautiful comedic timing, Johnny burst through the wall at the exact moment and place Chet buried his axe.

Roy laughed himself silly at Chet’s shriek and Johnny’s bellow.

"Who's the phantom now, Chet?"

At least the afterlife wouldn't be boring.

Chapter 2

"Shit.." Johnny sighed into his hands as they covered his face.

"What, Junior?" Roy asked.

Johnny started. He thought his partner was still in the chapel listening to their memorial service.

"Nothing." He muttered.

"Johnny." Roy said in his gentle 'I'll wait forever for you to tell me' voice. The one Johnny loved.

He put his hands down in his lap but let his head hang.

"I didn't know." Johnny said.

"What Junior?" Roy suspected he knew, but Johnny needed to say it.

Johnny suddenly sat up straight, a look of complete confusion on his face. He wiped his cheek and looked in awe at his hand.

"You can cry as a ghost?" He said in disgust. What, precisely, was disgusting him, Roy could only guess. He leaned in against Johnny’s ear.

"Well, you came as a ghost. Twice last night if you recall."

Johnny made an odd little noise and buried his face in his hands. Roy saw the shaking shoulders and put an arm around him.

"I'm sorry Junior. I know how much you loved life."

"That's not it, Pally." His voice was muffled. "I made peace with my own death long ago. Just like you did. We had to with the job."

"Then what, Love?" The gentle voice was back.

Johnny slipped his arms around Roy and hid his face against his neck.

"I thought you were the only one who cared."

"Oh Johnny!" Roy said softly, pulling him close. "You were loved by many people. I'm sorry it took this for you to realize it."

"God, Roy. I barely believed you half the time."

"I know. And damn whoever made you feel that way." Apparently rage exists in the afterlife.

Johnny pulled back, a little shocked and always awed when his partner was angry.

"Sorry Junior. C'mere."

"Don't be. I always feel.." Johnny gestured helplessly. "I dunno. Better, I guess, when you're angry for me."

"You're worth it." Roy said, burying his face in Johnny’s hair.

"I'm sorry I took you away from Jo and the kids." Johnny’s voice was muffled with sorrow.

"Johnny. They'll be okay. Besides-" Here Roy laid his hand on Johnny’s face and gazed into his partner's eyes. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."

Somewhere below the loft they were hidden in, the mournful assembly was breaking up, preparing for the solemn parade to the cemetery.

"We better go if we want to see the cortege." Johnny mumbled. Roy was doing something rather interesting to his neck.

"Nah. Seen em. Been in em." He said around mouthfuls of jaw and throat. "What I haven't done is fuck my partner silly in a church loft."

Johnny moaned his approval.

"What was that?" A small voice gasped.

The boys in charge of hanging up the choir robes in the occupied loft had slipped in unobserved by the couple, who were hidden from their view by the clothes racks.

Shaking with suppressed laughter, Roy groaned, low and creepy.

"H-hello?"

Johnny snorted and Roy put a hand over his mouth, and buried his face in Johnny’s shoulder smothering his own giggles. Johnny moaned loudly through Roy's hand. Roy's head popped up.

"Oh my God, you're terrible." he mouthed, the laughter in his face betraying the seriousness of his words.

"Jimmy? Is that you?"

"This isn't funny Jimmy!"

"I'm not Jimmy." Roy said in a deep harsh voice.

The boys screamed just as Roy and Johnny slipped from the bench, knocking it over with a loud crash. The boys ran screaming down the stairs. The couple, still wrapped around each other, laughed until their sides ached.

"And you say I'm terrible!" Johnny gasped.

"I know. I couldn’t stop myself!" Roy said unashamedly.

"How did we tip that bench over?"

"I don't know. We need to figure that out though."

"So you can continue to terrorize innocent children?"

"Me? You started it!"

Johnny gaped at Roy.

"Me? Me?" Johnny said, his hand splayed across his chest, "I believe you were threatening me at the time!"

"Oh yeah," Roy's laugh turned lecherous, "I was, wasn't I?"

He promptly returned to tormenting his partner with his lips, frightening away a set of angry parents and landing the loft on the schedule for an exorcism.

Johnny realized that without the worries of day to day life, Roy was relaxed and at ease.

And a relaxed and at ease Roy was an animal.

Among other things.

And there was no place Roy would rather be than there with Johnny.

At least the afterlife wouldn't be lonely.

Chapter 3

"The little shit!" Roy growled as he tried to throw himself from behind the tree.

"Wait!" Johnny hissed, struggling with Roy. "Wait. If they're giving Jenny a hard time now, what're they gonna do if her dead dad bursts out of a tree?"

"Piss themselves." Roy growled.

"Look. She's fine."

Jenny was surrounded by other girls, some of which were yelling at the bully, one was running for the teacher and the others were consoling a weeping Jenny. But when the tormentor of the second grade pushed a second girl down, Jenny found her feet and her knuckles, a nose.

"Atta girl!" Johnny cried. Roy turned, slid down the tree, and covered his face with his hands. Johnny, who still blamed himself for Roy being dead and stuck in whatever place this was, turned away, swearing under his breath.

"Johnny. Don't go."

"It's my fault that she has to defend herself. It's my fault you died. It's my fault you're heartbroken."

Roy didn't reply, and Johnny kept walking. He'd walk until he was tired. He'd walk until the guilt stopped. Hell. He'd walk forever if it would restore Roy to his family.

He went to station 51. The old crew, Cap, Chet, Mike and Marco were still there, but he knew without knowing how, that Mike was quietly preparing to move to Captain, Chet was loudly studying for the engineers exam again. Marco was confused and Cap was heartbroken.

Johnny sat a long time with each man, trying to find a way to help. He told his Captain their loss was not his fault. Begged him to forgive himself and that he was the father figure Johnny never had. How much he loved and missed him.

He thanked Mike for his quiet presence. How he always felt safe with Mike at Big Red's controls. Told him he'd make a fantastic Captain and that he wished he'd be there to see it. And that he hoped he'd never lose one of his crew, but if he did, to forgive himself. He told him he loved him and called him brother.

He thanked Marco for all the times he'd walked with him into hell with nothing but a hose and some water. He told Marco that he needed to follow his heart, that life was too short to be unhappy. He told him he loved him and called him brother.

He'd kept Chet for last, surprised that this was the most difficult conversation. He started by apologizing. Saying he wished he'd helped Chet more with the engineers test instead of making fun of him. Then he thanked him for all the good times. For always having his back on scene. With tears streaming down his face, he thanked him for all the pranks and how badly he missed them. He told him he loved him and called him brother.

To his surprise Chet buried his head in his arms and wept. Mike and Marco came to the table and sat in quiet grief. Captain Stanley came in from his office and sat with his arm around Chet’s shoulders. The new paramedics muttered something about a supply run and left.

"Sorry, Cap." Chet said finally. "I can't get Johnny off my mind today. It's like he's sitting here talking to me."

"Me too." Cap said.

"Me too." Marco whispered.

Mike merely nodded.

"I always pictured him and Roy together wherever they ended up." Chet said quietly.

"Me too. But it doesn't seem like Roy’s around, does it?" Cap said.

They all shook their heads and sat in silence for a while. Until Mike shattered it.

"I wonder if they ever realized how much they loved each other."

A stunned silence.

"Yeah," Chet said. "They really did, didn't they."

Cap laughed.

"After all, those twits died trying to save each other."

The rest of the crew chuckled.

"I'm glad he came to visit anyway." Marco said. The crew murmured their agreement. Cap got up and poured them all a cup of coffee. He held his cup into the air.

"It's not traditional toasting material, but I can't think of anything more appropriate to toast you with, but Johnny, if you're still here, here's to you, Son."

The others stood and raised their cups.

"Little brother!" They murmured as one.

"We'll be alright. Now go find Roy, you twit..The whole universe is out of whack."

Johnny laughed, wiped his face and with an evil grin crawled under the table. Positioning himself just right he stuck his head through the table, right where Chet was about to set down his mug and pulled a ghastly face. When Chet screamed, toppled over, and threw the mug, landing it miraculously in the sink, Johnny stood up hands on hips.

"Good job Chet. Where were those skills when we played that game?"

"GAGE!" Cap bellowed.

"Going Cap. See you guys!! Oh, and we did, Mikey, we did!" Johnny called and started running, laughing over his shoulder at Mike's outraged yell.

"Don't call me Mikey!"

Roy was still waiting, seated under the tree where Johnny had left him. Dropping to his knees he pulled Roy into his arms and held tight.

"Thank you, Roy. For always having my back when we were alive. Thank you for giving your life to try and save mine. Thank you for loving me that much. Forgive me for being an idiot."

Roy pulled back and studied Johnny’s face.

"Where did you go to-mph!" Johnny stopped the question with a kiss that was long and deep and told Roy everything he needed to know.

"Mmm.." he said when Johnny let him have his mouth back. "Missed you too. Wanna go back to the Church of the Holy Fu-."

Johnny stopped him from blaspheming further by the simple expedient of sticking his tongue down Roy's throat.

At least the afterlife would be full of forgiveness.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Nine: Lost In Japan

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): chest pain, health problems, getting lost

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

When you landed in Japan, your phone was already blowing up with notifications. 

"Jang Sumi Seen With Min Yoongi's Bodyguard"

"Jang Sumi Joining BTS In Japan For Promotions"

The cameras already waited when you stepped into the airport. You were in the middle of the members, and instead of stopping for pictures like normal, bodyguards flanked in between the eight of you and the cameras. 

You felt as Yoongi reached down and softly took your hand. You looked back at him with a confused look and he just shrugged. 

"They all have their assumptions anyway," he said. "Just keep going. They'll try to get in our way, but just keep going. They won't bother you if you're with me."

You moved through the crowd with Yoongi's hand as your anchor. You heard the various fans gasping and screaming and the paparazzi asking questions and trying to provoke you and the members into a response, but before you knew it, you were in the back of a van and fastening your seatbelt. The satisfying click making you smile. You made it.

Yoongi was beside you. He still held your hand and you wondered if he noticed. His thumb rubbed lightly over your knuckles in a quick, sweeping motion. You didn't necessarily mind him holding your hand, it was just that there was no use for it now.

The van door shut as Jimin got in and plopped down beside you. A few seconds later, the van was moving.

"My phone blew up when we landed," you said. "Apparently, the bodyguard who helped me through the airport was your bodyguard?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, shrugging his shoulders. 

"What did you do then?" 

"Eh, we had plenty of bodyguards," he said. "Since we were in a group, it was unnecessary to have mine." 

"But, Yoongi, I know things have happened to you in airports before. You're an idol. You're a bigger risk." 

"Sumi, I lent him to you and something still happened," Yoongi said, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again, but slower this time.

"You really don't have to worry about us, Sumi," Jimin said. His eyes were closed and you'd honestly thought he was asleep. "We have enough bodyguards and we have Jungkook." Jimin kicked the back of the youngest's seat, who sat in front of him. 

You laughed and dropped the subject and instead gazed out the window at Tokyo. You'd only truly been to the city once when you were a kid, although you'd had many layovers in the Tokyo airport on your flight to and from the US. 

---  

"There's a problem with the hotel," Se-jin said, coming back out to the van. Most of the members were barely awake due to their busy schedules and how they'd gotten used to sleeping on most forms of transportation. "A fire sprinkler in Sumi's room burst and it flooded the whole room. The flooding is contained in her room due to the staff. Are you okay sharing a room, Sumi?"

You nodded. "Yeah," you said. "That's fine." 

"All right, does anyone--"

"I will!" All of the members shouted at once. You were amazed that despite their perceived states of sleep, they all appeared to be awake and fully listening. You laughed.

"She'll stay with me," Yoongi said. 

You turned to look at him surprised. "But, what about the rumors?"

"They know we're soulmates at this point. And, if you got caught staying with one of the other members, what do you think they would think?" 

Your brow furrowed. They already thought you had cheated on Minki with Yoongi, but if the media began circulating that you were cheating on Yoongi, you could only imagine the backlash you would receive. 

"Yeah, okay," you said. "I'll stay with Yoongi." Se-jin nodded and closed the van door as he went back into the hotel to finish checking in. 

"We've rented out the whole floor, so there should be no way anyone will find out," Yoongi said, giving you a small smile. 

"Then, why couldn't I stay with one of the other boys?" you asked, your lips curving into a smirk. 

Yoongi's ears turned red and he looked between you and the other members who watched in loving amusement.

"Just in case."

---

By the time you all got checked in and everything unloaded, the sun was beginning to set. You saw no point in unpacking your suitcase completely when you were only staying for four days. However, you unpacked your toiletries and headed to the bathroom. 

"Do you need to shower--?" you ask, but the words are left in the air as you notice Yoongi dropping the extra pillows and blankets from the closet onto the couch. "What are you doing?"

"Setting up my bed." He smoothed out the blankets and placed the pillow on one end of the couch. 

"You don't have to sleep on the couch. I trust you. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before."

"It's not that," Yoongi said. "I don't trust the urges. We've only had one, but I'm afraid if we lay together in bed. It would just trigger something." 

You nodded. "You're right. But, I'll sleep on the couch. This is your room." 

Yoongi shrugged and shook his head before falling back onto the couch and crossing his hands over his stomach. "Go take your shower." 

You sighed and went into the bathroom and took the shower you'd been long awaiting. Despite the coffee having been spilled on you hours before and changing into Yoongi's shirt, you could still feel the sticky cream-filled coffee on your skin. You undressed and folded Yoongi's shirt and placed it on the counter so that it wouldn't get wet and continued to undress. Only when you had finished did you realize that you'd forgotten to bring your pajamas with you. 

---

"Yoongi?" you asked, peeking your head out the bathroom. "Are you awake?"

Yoongi chose not to respond as you emerged from the bathroom in one of the hotel's white bathrobes. He didn't respond because he wanted you to strip in front of him, but rather, he was hoping to be asleep within a few minutes anyway.

As he heard you shuffle back towards the bed, he heard a small scuffle and you curse under your breath. He opened his eyes to see you standing by the bed as nothing happened. You unfastened the robe and allowed it to fall. 

Yoongi only caught a glance of your bare back before he shut his eyes again, although he felt a stirring in his stomach. He could only curse in his head as he attempted to focus on anything else. He didn't catch a glimpse of anything super sexual, but it didn't matter. Yoongi hoped this wouldn't lead to another urge. While he wanted nothing more than to pull you into him and kiss you up and down your body, he knew he couldn't for the sake of severing the soulmate bond. 

There were a few seconds of silence. He figured you'd finished getting dressed, but the light was still on and he hadn't heard you climb into the bed. He opened his eyes only to be met with a pillow to the face. 

"I knew you weren't asleep!" you said, holding the pillow above your head to bring back down upon him. Yoongi acted quickly and sat up and grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the side. 

You were dumbfounded for a second until you heard Yoongi laugh. "What was your plan exactly?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. I just wanted to prove you were being a creep." You wiggled your eyebrows as a smirk came over your face. 

"Hey! I didn't see anything. I kept my eyes closed."

"Mmm," you said. "I don't believe you." 

Before Yoongi could respond, a silence came over the two of you as you both simultaneously realized that you were straddling his lap and you could feel him pressing into you. 

"Sorry," he whispered as you climbed off of him. 

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. You didn't mean to. Let's, uh, let's go to bed."

"Wait, Sumi, what are your plans for tomorrow?"

"I just plan on going out and exploring a bit. I've never got to explore the city. Probably do some shopping, visit temples." Your eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Why?"

"I'll be working," he said. "Just make sure to get back here before me so we don't risk anything. I'm supposed to be done with the fan sign at five." 

You nodded. "You don't think being away from each other in general will cause anything?" 

It was only then that Yoongi realized that you hadn't been away from each other for nearly two weeks. While you might not be physically together, you were always within the same building or space. "I think it's been enough time." 

You nodded as you climbed under the covers of the bed and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. Even in the dark, Yoongi could make out as you pulled the covers up to your chin and turned on your side. It made him smile. 

"Goodnight, Yoongi."

"Goodnight."

---

Your knees ached by midday, but your day alone in the city had been one of the best you'd had in years. You hadn't been truly alone for what felt like months. Sure, you slept alone and you could easily duck in the bathroom for five minutes of peace, but this was freedom you didn't think you'd have after the whole soulmate thing happened.

Yoongi was gone when you'd woke up that morning, the blanket tossed to one side of the couch. Not neat, but not exactly messy. It was odd, not feeling the aching in his chest when he was gone. You knew there were exceptions for when you were obligated to be apart, but since Yoongi worked so much, maybe it wouldn't be so horrible.

Your mind had still wandered to Yoongi throughout the day. Occasionally, you'd see a BTS ad campaign or someone wearing merch, but what really caught your attention was a small Kumamon figure. It was clearly meant to act as a paperweight or just to decorate a desk. You'd noticed that Yoongi seemed to like the character and after a quick Google search, it was confirmed. You bought the figure and tossed it into your purse.

With shopping bags in your hands and your camera in your hand, you managed to use your one free hand to pull out enough money to buy a taiyaki. You thanked the woman who handed it to you in your best rudimental Japanese. 

You were a few blocks away and halfway through your taiyaki when you thought to check the time. You nearly dropped the sweet bun when you realized it was 4:50 pm. Yoongi was due to be done in ten minutes and you were at least a half hour walk from the hotel--if not more. 

You rush out to the side of the road and attempt to hail a taxi. The first few passed you, but eventually one stopped and you frantically told the driver the name of the hotel. 

Within five minutes, the driver only managed to get a few blocks because of rush hour traffic. With nowhere to go, you were stranded. You'd gone the whole day without making a scene or being recognized (although maybe because you wore a baseball cap and mask), despite your face on the cover of magazine articles everywhere. And, you were afraid that you were going to have to end up on more of them to get out of this. 

You waited another five minutes before handing the driver a wad of cash that was definitely too much and apologizing as you got out of the cab. Carrying your bags and purse on your arm, you ran across the stopped lanes of traffic and tried to ignore the car horns and confused shouts. You checked the time. 5:01 pm. You ran and pulled up the GPS on your phone and entered the hotel address. 

Your vision blurred and you felt a small pull in your chest. It was warning you.

---

Something felt off as the van pulled up to the back door of the hotel. His palms begin to sweat and his heart beat against his chest as if he were sprinting. The door to the van opened and Yoongi didn't even remember it stopping or the rest of the members climbing out. 

"Yoongi?" one of the members called. 

Yoongi managed to his feet and out of the van but nearly collapsed against Jin, who grabbed him by the shoulder to stabilize him. He doesn't get far before he collapses against the wall of the hotel, his neck lulling back. 

"Yoongi, what's wrong?"

"Sumi...she must not be back yet..." 

Yoongi hears some talking and shuffling, but barely understands anything as two of the boys lift him up and inside the hotel. 

"They're going to look for her, Yoongi. It will be okay."

---

You'd made it a few more blocks, although you could barely tell. You were running, even though your vision was so blurred you could barely see. You used the buildings on the side as your guide and hoped you wouldn't bump into anyone. 

Your heart was beating out of your chest and you honestly couldn't tell if it was because of the running or that Yoongi was back at the hotel. You felt lightheaded and even with your headphones in you could barely hear the directions your GPS was telling you.

The edges of your vision begin going black and you feel your knees hit the pavement. This was it. You hoped a passerby would stop and at least call an ambulance. 

"Sumi!" someone a short distance away shouted.

You couldn't make out their faces, but you could see figures running through the crowd towards you. As you slumped against the nearest wall, you felt yourself being scooped up. 

"Sumi, Sumi, it's okay. We're not too far away. Come on, stay awake." 

You recognized Jungkook's face and allowed your face to fall against his T-shirt. It felt warm, but as you neared the hotel, your senses clearing a tiny bit, you realized it was a little too warm. You remembered back to the day before when you'd accidentally burned Tae's hand. 

"I-I'm sorry," you said. "It doesn't hurt does it?"

"It was just the T-shirt. Don't worry about it, Sumi."

His voice is soft and you can barely hear him over the commotion you're approaching. You can already hear the slew of photographers who are inside the lobby of the hotel and outside on the sidewalk. They haven't seemed to notice you yet, as their camera flashes and yells are aimed elsewhere.

"Jungkook! Jimin!" Se-jin called from the alleyway where he held open a service door normally only used for employees. While your vision had cleared, you still felt out of breath and your heart still convulsed in your chest. 

Jungkook ran towards the door and immediately into a service elevator. He didn't drop you back on your feet like you had expected him to. His arms were slung under your knees and around your shoulders. You wondered why you weren't burning his arms. Maybe because he wasn't touching your skin? Maybe the soulmate curse somehow recognized that he was helping you get closer to Yoongi? Whatever it was, you were thankful that beyond burning a small black hole in his T-shirt, you hadn't hurt him. 

The elevator dinged and Jungkook rushed you into your hotel room. Yoongi was already on the bed, a cloth on his forehead. He was sweaty, his shirt pulled up, exposing his stomach and his hair pushed back. 

Jungkook plopped you down on the bed beside Yoongi. Your breath evened out and your muscles relaxed, but the dull ache in your chest remained.

"Do you guys need anything?"

"Just some water." 

Jungkook went to the sink and filled a glass with water and set it on the bedside table beside you. "Just text or call one of us if you need anything." 

You nodded and Jungkook left the room. As soon as the door shut, Yoongi's arms around you and your face in his chest. His lips came to your forehead and you released a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

"I lost track of time," you said. "I tried to take a taxi, but it was rush hour." 

"It's okay. It's not your fault. It was harder than we thought it would be." 

"Do you think we'll ever break it?" you asked. "If this was so difficult, if we can't even be apart due to a simple mistake, even if we were in love, how would we fix this?"

"I don't know. But, you should get some sleep."

"You too." 

You rested your head on Yoongi's shoulder, his arm slung around you comfortably, fitting perfectly against your waist and in the swell of your hips. It was the only place your body would allow you to be, but even if it was just the soulmate curse, even if you didn't love Yoongi, you knew there was no other place you wanted to be than his arms.

---

You fell asleep long before Yoongi did. Your small breaths tickling the skin on his neck and you were so still in his arms, only the way your chest moved slowly up and down indicated that you were still alive.

He'd never tell you, but he loved the way you looked when you slept. You scrunched your face up like a fussy baby and sometimes you'd make small moans in reactions to whatever happened in your dreams. 

It was nearly 1 am and Yoongi couldn't sleep. There were still pangs in his chest, but he wasn't sure if it was due to the earlier ordeal, or something else. He looked down at your sleeping form and carefully tucked stray hairs behind your ear. The ends of your hair were still a little damp with sweat, but he didn't care. 

You smiled at his touch and burrowed deeper into him. So deep, in fact, Yoongi wasn't sure you'd ever come out.

[aeslvr]

old memories - oikawa tooru

⊱┊ gender - she/her (not neutral)

⊱┊ contains - angst??  reader is insecure about the whole “love” thing. 

⊱┊ wc - 1,107

⊱┊ aria’s notes - idk what this is, i wrote this at 11 pm at night on a notepad app since i had some sudden inspiration uh this isnt really well written and just wrote it without really thinking but yeah c : 

“oh c'mon y/n-chan let's go on a date, yeah?"

you twisted your head to take a glance at your childhood friend of 12 years, tooru oikawa. as you could tell, he was being stubborn and annoying as always. you could care less if oikawa wanted to take you on a date. there were plenty of other girls that he could pick and choose from.

 those girls who were prettier than you times 100.

 there were many girls who'd confess their feelings towards him but apparently, he wasn't satisfied with that. maybe, he was teasing you once again. 

oikawa proposed to you when you were both kids and you went along with it. because at the time, your 6-year-old self didn't know better. the two of you were kids who didn't know a thing about love. 

yet, you both would play pretend. the plastic ring that he slided on your 6-year-old finger was kept in your closet. the ring was now too big for your own finger and you would occasionally glance at the ring from time to time. it made you cringe just thinking back at old memories, the pictures, the videos that were saved on an old camera. everything. a small wedding ceremony was held and that's when oikawa kissed your hand.

oikawa was following you through the school hallways like a lost puppy that simply needed attention. the word 'rejection' wasn't in his vocabulary, he didn't know what that meant due to the girls who would typically surround him with love letters in their hands.

 then a sheepish smile would rise from his lips as he took all the love letters but would never read them.

 he couldn't care less for the letters, maybe if it was yours then he would care. but it wasn't. so he'd toss them away in the trash without any hesitation. he'd listen to countless girls talk about their hobbies and different places and had to refrain himself from saying "oh, i think y/n would like that too," or "maybe i'll take y/n there one day."

a groan of frustration escaped from your lips, "tooru there's no need for dates with me when you have those girls who want to spend time with you."

  you took a deep breath before continuing. "i don't know why you're doing this. stop pretending that you have feelings towards me because i know that it's all bullshit."

his eyes gradually softened as he stared into your eyes, he wasn't showing off his usual smile or smirk that'd he'd typically show.

 perhaps you didn't want to accept his 'so called' feelings for you since they could be fake, and he'd end up laughing at your face. or maybe you were scared to face rejection and enter a relationship. yeah, that was probably it.

 it hurt him hearing you say those words in the inside, it felt like he was getting ripped apart and he didn't know why. the person that stood in front of him wasn't giving him a chance. he didn't just want any girl, he wanted you. you and you only.

 iwaizumi even noticed that his friend was distracted and had other things in his mind during volleyball practice.

tooru shook his head as his eyes darted towards the floor, "y/n-"

 both his hands and voice began to tremble as his throat began to feel sore. he was sure that something was wrong with him. he couldn't stop feeling this way, he was beginning to break and shatter in a million of pieces and he didn't know why. he missed the childhood memories that he wished could last forever. 

 playing volleyball with you even though you completely sucked at being the setter, holding your hand so he wouldn't lose you at the mall, sobbing at cliche cheesy romance movies with you, the countless times you comforted you when your parents were arguing, and the wedding between you two.

 he missed it all too much.

if only he was able to hold you in his arms, he'd never let go even if he had the chance to eat milk bread. cause he loved you too much.

"what went wrong between us?" tooru's voice began to crack. "we used to be happily married and then-"

"i'm getting a divorce."

even though you both weren't technically married, he took those words seriously. his eyes promptly widened as he watched you walk away from him, his arm extending towards you. except, he was out of your reach. his feet wouldn't move no matter how much he wanted them to move. they were stick to the floor and all he could do was watch you walk away from him. 

his mouth wouldn't open so he couldn't yell out your name. his entire body was frozen and he couldn't move. 'what did i do wrong?' the thought repeated over and over again. if only he could go back in time to being a kid, life was so much easier back then anyway. now, his life was shattering before his eyes.

iwaizumi glasped oikawa's shoulder, "oi shitty-kawa aren't you supposed to be in the gym?" he rose a brow while he titled his head.

 "i've been searching for you everywhere and now you owe me boba for wasting my time since you were in the school the whole entire time."  

he noticed that his friend wasn't responding like he normally would, iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows before getting in front of oikawa. oikawa's eyes were still widened from the shock, his whole body was petrified. his knuckles turned white while he let out a shaky sigh. 

iwaizumi was confused since oikawa never acted like this before.

 he'd always try to hide his emotions with a fake smile on his face, that way nobody would have to worry. except, that wasn't happening now. his emotions were very much visible and written on his face.

 this was something rare for oikawa to do and iwaizumi knew that very well due to him being friends with oikawa practically since birth. obviously something must have happened.

"oh, hey iwa-chan! i didn't see you there." tooru waved his hand with a fake smile on his face to cover up his emotions. usually, he was good at smiling all the time and covering up his emotions.

iwaizumi continued to have his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his friend, squinting his eyes for a few seconds. iwaizumi quickly had an assumption onto what happened. it was actually pretty obvious to him. "y/n again?"

oikawa's eyes widened while the smile on his lips began to slowly fade. he turned quiet and didn't say anything for a moment.

"yeah."

[rjshepherd]

Hey I love your au stuff for ressie and your characters, do you draw any others of them? Like Daniel, I know he doesn't appear much but I love one French bastard :)

HEHEHEHEHEH HI YES I WAS ACTUALLY DRAWING HIM WHILE YOU ASKED THIS BEHOLD

I'll post the full pic of him later but here he is at the start of the au and his latest appearance, in my re8 au continuation.

Would you like some Headcanons for him too?

Daniel was born in Lyon, France but has spent the majority of his life in Paris.

He would prefer to be vegetarian or even Vegan. Sadly his infection forces him to consume meat.

He is seriously lactose intolerant.

He is a polyglot, able to speak French, Spanish, russian and English fluently. He is attempting to learn Czech and Romanian as well.

Due to his infection, he has essentially stopped aging, as it is with many other infected. Despite being in his mid 50's he still has the appearance of being in his late 20's/ early 30's in 2021.

He has been dating Anatoliy Nêmic (an umbrella USS soldier) on and off since the 90's.

Daniel is bi.

At various points in his life he as work d for both the French army and French police. Its unknown if he quit or was discharged.

He still wears his dog tags, despite how rusted and worn they've become.

He appears to have been a part of the army engineering corps, a mechanic. Interestingly he also seems to have some EOD experience.

Daniel worked for Alex wesker in secret, up until her supposed death in 2011. His last job for her was to spy on mother Miranda, hence why he is in the village.

Alex "gifted" Daniel to Miranda as a mold researcher.

Once she took control of Natalia corda, Alex wrote to Daniel instructing him to carry on with the mission despite him wanting to leave. It is believed she is blackmailing him into staying.

Daniel wears a ring given to him by Anatoliy. It was meant for his ring finger but now wears it in his thumb as it no longer fits.

He has a habit of absentmindedly spinning or stroking it while thinking or stressed.

Like everyone infected with mold, he is in credibility difficult to kill. He has died and been revived several times. Miranda is the cause of most of these incidents .

The scar on his throat is from having it slashed by a licker during the raccoon city incident.

He drinks and smokes heavily.

Despite working with/for Miranda he doesn't really know any of the lords. He is most familiar with alcina but only because he lives close to the castle.

Alcina has sampled his blood before. He apparently tastes "utterly rancid"

He is aquatinted with Cassandra dimitrescu. They share and enjoyment of French literature, marquise de sade in particular

His strain of mold was developed by Alex wesker, making him somewhat immune to Miranda's influence.

I have plenty more Headcanons for my best boy so if you want to know more, send me an ask!

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 2/8

Chapter Summary:

The mystery becomes clearer... or thicker... in any case a strange correspondence is born...

3888 words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/81944953

Alone, in the teacher's lounge, Loki poured himself a cup of coffee. His hands were shaking. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

He didn't hear the principal come in and jumped at the sound of her voice.

"I know about the accident in Vanaheim Square.  Carol and I had to get there because there were students from the school on the bus. Fortunately none of them were hurt. The paramedics who knew you were a teacher here, told us you put up a good fight for that man."

Loki sighed, "But it wasn't enough. I may know first aid perfectly, but it wasn't enough." He paused, his throat tight before continuing, "I have to get back to class."

He headed for the door.

"Loki?"

Loki stopped and turned around, Natasha put her hand on his shoulder and said gently, "Do me a favor. On your day off, get as far away from here as you can. Okay? Go somewhere you feel... somewhere that brings you peace."

Loki nodded his head before going on his way.

**********

Mobius left the house and headed for the pickup. Before entering, he slipped a letter into the box and raised the flag, then set off for his work.

**********

At the same time Loki decided to follow Natasha's advice and headed for New Asgard. He drove north of the small village.

The day was clear and bright, with a slight breeze.

He stopped at the small local grocery store where he knew the owners well, to buy his lunch.

He greeted them as they entered the store, "Hi Laura, hi Clint!"

"Hey Loki! Haven't seen you in a while. How are things in the Big Apple?"

Loki shrugged and replied, "Good. I'm getting my bearings little by little"

Clint asked, curious, "What are you doing here?"

"I just needed to get out of the city. Needed the fresh air, and I missed the peaceful life here."

"I hear you, I wouldn't want to come back to the city for anything in the world." replied Laura while bending down.

"What's the matter, honey?"

She stood up straight, a little girl in her arms.

"Hey Lila, how big you've gotten!" exclaimed Loki. "How old are you now?"

"Two." replied Laura. "Say hello to Loki, Lila, you like him don't you?"

"Hi Woki!" chirped the little girl and held out his arms. Loki took her in his arms and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She giggled.

They talked for a few more moments and then Loki headed for the house on the cliff.

Once there, checking first that no one was there, Loki got out of the car and walked through the forest just behind and then went for a long time to admire the lake below the cliff, the wind blowing his long black hair. As the sun began to set on the horizon, he thought it was time to go home, but didn't hurry either.

Just as he was about to get into the car, he noticed the flag raised from the mailbox. Acting on an impulse, he opened it. Inside, there was a single envelope. To his surprise, it was addressed to him.

Loki sat down in the car parked in front of the house, and began to read the letter.

I got your letter. Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?

Because, if so, I don't understand.

Loki frowned as he continued to read.

I am not the "next tenant".

There was no previous tenant.

The house has been uninhabited for over twenty years.

At first I thought maybe you had the wrong place.

But how did you know about the paw prints?

Lok was confused. He pondered for a moment, then reached into his bag to find a pen and paper.

**********

Mobius pulled up in his pickup truck, happy to have finally finished his workday. The flag on the mailbox was up. He opened the box. A letter inside, he recognized Loki's handwriting. He looked at it as he walked along the path to the house. It was from the same address Loki had given him to forward his letter, 105 MacDougal Street - Greenwich Village.

Once inside, Mobius was startled to feel something crawl between his legs. It was the alligator that had left the pawprints. Apparently it had chosen to live here and had figured out how to get in.

Perfect! Now he would have to find out what an alligator might need.

He opened Loki's letter and began to read.

**********

A few hours later, Mobius was waiting in front of the huge building exuding opulence and majesty, overhung by the two familiar letters, TK, Time Keepers.

He smiled as a short, dark-haired man, looking a little younger than him, stepped out.

Mobius shouted, "Casey!"

The younger man, seeing him, exclaimed, "Mobius! What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be busy in your little store."

Mobius replied with a smile, "I'll never be too busy to seek out an old friend and buy him a drink."

Casey answered softly, "I'm really touched."

Then Mobius added sheepishly, "I had to do something in town actually."

Casey laughed and retorted, "It's good to see you." before giving him a hug.

Over his shoulder Mobius saw a woman walk out.

Their eyes met and Mobius whispered, "Ravonna." The woman froze before continuing with a quick step. Mobius watched her go.

"Come on Casey, let's get out of here."

A little later, at a bar in Manhattan, Mobius and Casey are sitting at a table with burgers and beers.

Casey asked him, "So, how's life in your little store?"

Mobius smiled before answering, "Well, it was a challenge starting out on my own, sometimes it's frustrating depending on the clientele, but basically I..."

Casey finished his sentence, "Say no more, you're enjoying yourself."

Mobius nodded, "That's right, I'm also my own master and all in all it works out pretty well."

Casey toasted with his drink can, "I'm happy for you."

"Mind you, I bought a house.."

Casey's eyes widened, "So your business is actually doing really well."

Mobius chuckled, "I mortgaged up my underwear. But I don't regret it."

Casey took a sip of beer and asked him, "You never regretted leaving TK?"

Mobius shook his head, "Even though I know you like working there, this big conglomerate was not for me. When we wanted to create it, it was to give everyone access to quality watches at a fair price, but Ravonna got lost in the process. Does she ever ask about me?"

Casey shook his head, "She's too busy making money, and I don't think she likes me, I thought she was going to fire me today, because I didn't sell enough watches."

"Don't worry, you know her tantrums, she'll be like she used to be tomorrow."

They continued the evening, chatting happily.

Mobius offered to drop Casey off at his house before heading home.

"If you don't mind, I'd just like to mail a letter before I leave."

He parked his pickup around the street corner and walked, looking for an address.

He said aloud, "105 MacDougal Street - Greenwich Village."

Casey, who had followed him, asked, "What is it?"

Mobius looked around, puzzled, and replied, "I'm not sure."

"Who lives there?" inquired Casey, curious.

"I don't really know."

Mobius checked three times, but he was in the right place. Except there was only a recently dug foundation, no habitable building.

He took the piece of paper out of his pocket. The last letter from Loki. The return address was correct: 105 MacDougal Street - Greenwich Village

Mobius stared at the letter because he noticed something odd. It was dated March 31, 2021.

**********

Loki walked through the hallways of the school, examining the new letter from Mobius.

There must be a mistake, I tried to mail the letter in person, but there is no habitation at this address, it's just a foundation.

And the date is wrong too.

Loki, annoyed, scribbled a note and as soon as class was over, he went to put the letter in the box.

**********

In the house on the cliff, Mobius was reading the last letter received in his kitchen, leaning against the counter.

I received your last letter.

I don't know if you will get the answer, but I want to get to the bottom of it.

By the way, for some reason the mail is not getting through to me. I still have to drive here to get it.

Anyway, all this to say that I didn't make a mistake with the address.

I know where I live thanks!  Ok, it's ugly, but it's not a foundation either.

And I'm not stupid either, it's 2021.

Mobius laughed at what seemed to him to be a foolish joke and continued reading.

Just out of curiosity: what year do you think it is?

**********

On his couch with a glass of wine in hand, Loki studies Mobius' latest note.

It's 2019

SO PLEASE STOP BULLSHITTING ME.

Loki laughed, incredulous. Croki looked at him.

He patted his head while thinking, before getting up and walking over to his dresser and from a drawer he pulled out a shoebox full of pictures.

He began to rummage through the photos. He came across a photo he had forgotten about, him as a younger man with his then girlfriend, Sigyn. They were in each other's arms, laughing, in love.

He looked at it for a second, then put it away and continued searching.

He finally found the photo he was looking for. It showed Loki and others, outside at night, wearing T-shirts and jeans, with snow falling around them.

He turned it over. On the back is a date printed by the developer: APRIL 3, 2019.

**********

The wind was blowing hard when Mobius arrived home to find the flag on the mailbox raised. Inside was a new letter from Loki. He picked it up and ran across the road, because the sky was really starting to darken.

While preparing his meal, he read the letter.

Since you don't believe me, I'll give you a little warning.

There was a bad flu in the spring of 2019.

I remember it because it snowed suddenly in early April and for a long time.

After that, everyone got sick.

Mobius rolled his eyes and looked at the calendar, today was April 2.

He continued to read.

So, my mysterious pen pal, if you really are where... or when... you say you are...

I hope you are getting plenty of rest and drinking lots of herbal tea and eating fruit to store vitamins.

Warm milk with honey is also effective. And above all, cover yourself well.

Mobius chuckled, "Snow, right."

He crumpled up the letter and went to throw it away.

As he opened the trash can, he suddenly began to sneeze.

After a few seconds, the realization fell on him and he turned back to the bay window.

A magnificent sight was displayed before his eyes, although the beauty left him indifferent, so shocked was he by the implication of what he saw.

It was snowing heavily.

Stunned by both the cold that was coming on and what had just happened, he went to bed and slept like a log.

The next morning, he went to the snow-covered mailbox, and after struggling with the flap, he quickly slipped in a letter and closed the box, almost as if he was afraid it would bite him. He pulled up the red flag.

**********

Same day - 2021

Loki opened the box, took out the letter from Mobius and then lowered the flag.

He pulled out the letter, which had only one line.

CAN THIS BE HAPPENING?

Loki, with trembling hands, took a pen and answered, then put the letter in the box and raised the flag.

Same day, same place - 2019

Mobius stared at the snow-covered box whose flag had just been lowered and it began to scare him a little. Shaken by a sneeze he rolled into a ball and when he raised his head he saw that the flag was up again. He took a step backwards but after a few moments, curiosity being the strongest, he opened the mailbox with great hesitation and took out... his note. The same as the one he had just put there. Slightly disappointed, but also reassured, he sighed and relaxed.

But when he opened the note, he gasped.

CAN THIS BE HAPPENING?

YES.

**********

April 5, 2021

Loki returned home, a little dazed.

Sensing that something was wrong with his owner, Croki followed him into the living room.

Loki took him in his arms and placed him next to him on the sofa. Croki put his head on Loki's knee and Loki patted his head absentmindedly.

Then Loki took a paper and began to write.

April 5, 2019

Mobius was on his bed, surrounded by used handkerchiefs and still having trouble believing the letter from Loki that had just arrived in the box.

The alligator, that had really taken up residence in his house, was lying at the foot of his bed.

I don't know about you, but I don't even know the right questions to ask. Can you tell me something that might shed some light?

Mobius wandered around the house, thinking, trying to find a connection, when he arrived at the front door and saw the alligator's tracks in front of the door.

He grabbed a piece of paper from the phone and scribbled quickly.

I think we have the same pet.

Let's do a little test, so that we don't always have to wait for the other to answer, let's meet on April 7th at 10am in front of the mailbox.

He went to put the letter in the mailbox. He raised the flag and went home to crawl under his comforter, exhausted by his cold and the emotions.

April 6, 2021

Loki got up early to drive to the house on the cliff, hoping that his mysterious pen pal had answered him.

His heart pounding, he saw the flag raised and ran to the box, opened it and grasped the small piece of paper with trembling fingers.

He answered and put the note in the mailbox.

Is it a dwarf alligator?

See you tomorrow then ;-)

April 7, 2019/2021 - 10:00 am

This is how, two years apart, an extraordinary letter exchange began, punctuated by the movement of a small flag on a mailbox.

M: Hello and yes it is an alligator.

L: Does it rub against your legs as soon as you come in and follow you around until it gets fed.

M: Yes.

L: I named him Croki.

Mobius looked at Croki at his feet and said, "Nice to meet you, Croki."

The little alligator rubbed at his feet as if it understood.

L: Perhaps we could introduce ourselves properly.

I'm Loki, you know that, and I've just arrived as a literature teacher in an institute for extraordinary students.

M: My name is Mobius. I make and repair antique watches. I have a little store called Miss Minute. This is the mascot of my store.

Loki giggled when he read the name of the store and saw the little drawing next to it. A small watch straight out of a 1950s design. It was actually kind of cute.

He took on a serious look as he read the following words.

M: Okay. I'm still trying to figure that out. If two years from now you're living in a building at 105 MacDougal Street - Greenwich Village... that doesn't exist yet... where are you, uh, "now" in 2019?

L: I'm studying for my PhD in literature at the Brooklyn College of the Arts.

Loki stopped writing and looked around before continuing.

L: And now I'm corresponding in an extremely weird way with someone I've never met. Too, too , too weird!!!

M: What's it like in 2021?

L: It's great. Everyone is driving around in flying cars. We all wear metal colored suits and we all have super powers.

Mobius smiled at the joke before continuing to read.

L: Actually nothing has really changed. No. We're moving to 5G and Samsung and Apple are still competing as much as ever.

I'm going to have to leave, I have class this afternoon. I won't be able to make it for three days, my next day off.

But... one thing worries me. What if, by sending these letters, by communicating in this way, we are accidentally altering the course of time itself, thus changing human history forever?

Mobius reflected for a moment before answering.

M: You're right, let's not do that.

Mobius posted the letter and went into the house, Croki as usual rubbed at his feet and started following him around.

"Croki! That's enough!"

He took the alligator in his arms and placed it next to where it used to eat. "You wait here and stop following me."

For three days he repeated the same trick several times until Croki quietly waited actually near his bowl. He gave him a small piece of fresh fish to congratulate him, "Good boy.

Despite what they seemed to have decided, he then wrote a small note and went to put it in the mailbox, which he raised the flag. He just hoped that Loki would still come and check.

April 10, 2021

Loki read the letter again as he entered his apartment, having understood absolutely nothing.

Sorry, I did change one little thing.

Loki closed the door and while he expected to be almost knocked over by Croki who always came to slip between his legs, nothing.

He went to the kitchen and was surprised to see Croki waiting for him next to his eating place.

No need to thank me.

Loki laughed out loud in a way he hadn't in a long time.

**********

The next day, sitting in class waiting for the next students, he was still wondering how he could thank Mobius.

When suddenly appeared shyly on the doorstep, Kamala.

Which was strange, because the bubbly girl was anything but shy, and especially not with him.

Surprisingly, since she knew that he specialized in Norse mythology, she had become attached to him and it was not uncommon for her to linger at the end of a class to discuss with him some point of her reading on the subject.

Natasha and Loki's colleagues had told him that this was the first time since Kamala had arrived that someone had managed to channel her energy.

"Ahem Professor... Loki?" she wore her strange oversized red scarf as always.

"Loki will be enough as always, Kamala." replied Loki softly to her.

"Come in."

She walked over and put something on his desk.

"Um... I wanted to thank you, because you always take the time to answer me no matter when I come and no matter what my question is, so I made you this little something myself."

Loki, touched, unwrapped the small package, he took out a green scarf, obviously hand-knitted, whose workmanship looked a bit like the one the girl was wearing all the time.

He looked up and said in a soft voice tightened by emotion, "Thank you Kamala, that's very thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome! See you later." She left as always with her bouncy step.

Loki contemplated the scarf for long minutes, it had been a long time since anyone had had such a thoughtful gesture for him, and especially for something he had done.

"Congratulations professor."

He looked up at the owner of the voice that had pulled him out of his thoughts.

It was the gym teacher, Thor.

"What?"

"You are one of the chosen few who have the privilege of being among the people Kamala respects the most. She only gives this kind of personal gift to people she holds in high regard."

"Oh..."

Thor leaned against the doorframe.

"I came to invite you for tonight. We're having a movie night with colleagues, the ones you know, at the Bi-frost. Interested?"

A while ago, Loki would have refused, but tonight, perhaps because of Mobius or thanks to him, he decided to accept.

"I'll come, thanks for having thought of me. What movie?"

"You've got mail. After class we'll meet at the door and go together."

A few hours later, they were discussing the movie over beers and burgers. There was Heimdall, Thor, Bruce, Carol and even Natasha the principal.

Carol laughed at the main characters, "Honestly, it's really stupid this match,

falling in love over words, I'd go to her as soon as I knew who she was."

Loki squeezed Mobius' last letter into his pocket before speaking, "I find there is something pure about it. A correspondence, free from social barriers, appearances, free from the past...no need to worry about details. There's something exciting about it."

Loki didn't realize that they were all looking at him, surprised to see him showing so much passion.

Thor elbowed him, "Do you have someone in your life Lokes?"

"Hm?"

Natasha looked at him knowingly, "It's hard not to notice that you're writing or reading letters all the time."

Loki blushed slightly, "It's not that kind of relationship, although it's true I've never met him."

"Why?" asked Carol, curious.

"Let's just say it's... complicated."

Seeing that Loki didn't feel like talking about it, the others changed the subject and they continued to have a pleasant evening.

As he left for home later, Loki felt a pleasant warmth. For the first time in a long time, he no longer felt lonely.

He pulled Kamala's scarf tighter around his neck in the cool spring evening. Suddenly he knew how to do something for Mobius.

The next morning, he went to clothing stores in search of what he had in mind.

Three hours later, at the house on the cliff, he put a letter in the mailbox with a small package. He raised the little flag and headed back to town.

April 12, 2021

Mobius had just gotten up, and like every morning since the beginning of this strange correspondence, he went to check for mail and was pleasantly surprised to see the little flag up.

He returned a little later with a letter and a small package.

He opened the package and took out a black scarf adorned with small silver watches. He put it around his neck and sat down with a coffee in his armchair and started to read the letter.

Thank you for educating my little Croki. Here is a little gift to thank you.

Put this on and don't take it off for the rest of the month. It will be cold until the end of April.

Mobius tightened the scarf around his neck and smiled softly.

Mobius, I don't know if what we're doing will change the course of time, but what I am sure of is that it is affecting my life in a positive way, so I don't want to stop.

This connection I have with you has allowed me to reach out to others and for the first time since I left home, I don't feel lonely anymore.

I don't want to stop.

But if you want to, I will, all you have to to is to let me know about it.

In 3 days at 7am I'll come for your answer.

Yours, Loki.

_______

What will Mobius answer? Is he ready to continue this strange long-distance relationship... or rather long-term...? Answer in the chapter 3

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰