#cos im most CERTAINLY appreciating it ;)

[thefrsers]

OUTLANDER| 4.01 “AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL”

[satforsatoru]

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫

➪ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

ive been an academic victim on the weekdays and a party girl on the weekends but im back hopefully

The obnoxious ringing of a phone alarm cut through the layers of sleep, forcing you to wake. Without opening your eyes, you already knew something was off. It was a Saturday, so you didn’t have an alarm set, meaning that it was something else. 

The sinister thought caused you to bolt upright, searching for the source of the annoying noise. You didn’t find a phone, but something far more startling greeted your eyes. 

Splayed out on the other side of the bed, was none other than your co-worker and friend, Geto Suguru. He laid on his stomach, face hiding in his elbow and hair spread out around him. If you weren’t so horrified and confused about everything about this, you would’ve taken a moment to appreciate such a pretty sight. 

You slowly backed out of your bed, trying to piece together the moments before this, but all you could pull from the depths of your memory was going to a bar with Shoko and Utahime. A chill went up your spine and you hurried to check your state of dress. 

Completely clothed, you thought in relief, but you noticed that they certainly weren’t the ones you’d gone out in. What had happened last night? And most importantly, why wasn’t Suguru getting up when it was his phone that was blaring so loudly? 

“Suguru!” You hissed, pushing at his shoulder, a raging headache beginning to take hold of you. Between the hangover that was making itself known, the continuous alarm, and your current situation, you were expecting an awful morning. 

A low groan left him and you paused at the sound. Had his voice always been that deep? Shaking yourself as if to physically rid yourself of your thought process, you pushed at him again. “Wake up, Suguru, your alarm is ridiculous,” You grumbled.

The ravenette didn’t move and, for a moment, you feared that he still wouldn’t wake up until you saw his head move to the side and his eyes peek out from under his hair. “‘Mornin’,” He rasped, lips curving into a smile. 

You had to take a pause, struck by not only his soft smile and morning voice, but the way he was hugging one of your pillows like he belonged there, comfortable in your bed. “Your alarm…” You deflected, covering your face to orient yourself. 

You heard a soft chuckle, some rustling, and then the screaming phone was finally shut off. “What do you remember from last night?” Suguru spoke, sitting up. You shook your head and crossed your arms, still awkward, even in your room. 

“Nothing besides initially going out,” You sighed, still racking your brain. “You’re not going to ask what I’m doing here?” He grinned, running a hand through his hair. You shifted on your feet and shot him a look. 

“I assumed that would go without saying…” Suguru’s grin widened at your words and he cocked his head as if questioning you. “Really? You don’t remember calling me and practically demanding that I come to help you out since apparently your getting black-out drunk was my fault?” 

You could only blink owlishly at him, already mortified because you knew exactly what he was getting at. During work, one of your coworkers had been all over Suguru, although there was obviously something between you two, even if that something was unlabeled. 

When he hadn’t fended her off, but instead indulged in it, you felt jealousy burn hotly in your system, before that gave way to defeat. Shoko had reasoned that the only way to get rid of it was to go out and find your own ‘distraction’. Utahime had largely been against the idea, but she didn’t want to pass up on a fun night, so she opted for being designated driver.  But, clearly, if you ended up with Surguru in your bed with you unable to remember how it had happened, something had gone very wrong. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot, not at all knowing how to respond to him and his piercing gaze. “At first, I assumed it was drunken ramblings… but it was hard to ignore when you told me that I should only ever flirt with you…” He continued, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you and make you come all the way over here, but-”

“But you were jealous?” Suguru finished, running a hand through his hair, not even trying to bite back his smirk. 

And just like that, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach turned to a lead weight that made you uncomfortable. At first it seemed like Suguru was teasing you, but now it felt as though he was just here to mock you and your feelings. 

“As I was saying,” You muttered, looking away, “I’m sorry you came all the way here, but I’m fine now and you don’t have to stay,” You finished, making your way to your bedroom door to open it. 

“Hey, wait, you’re trying to get rid of me already?” The ravenette called out, catching your wrist in his hand. You just avoided his gaze, not knowing exactly what he was getting at. “You don’t think I’d do this for just anyone do you?” He murmured, stepping closer to you.

“I’m just confused,” You sighed, risking a glance at him. A small smile pulled at his lips and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand. “I should’ve made it clearer, the way I feel about you,” He started, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand.

Your face burned, but you didn’t turn away from his gaze. “Well, how do you feel…?” You asked quietly. His smile widened and he drew you impossibly closer to him. “Knowing that I’ll see you every day, makes waking up in the morning so much easier for me. We’ve been dancing around each other for a while now, but… I want to define what we have. I want you to be mine,” He asserted, his hands snaking around your waist.

The flutters in your chest were back with a vengeance, but before you could let embarrassment take hold, you were grabbing Suguru by his collar. 

His sound of surprise was almost immediately muffled by your lips as you pulled him closer. Words weren’t your strong suit, but you knew there was no way for him to misinterpret your actions. With hardly any hesitation, the ravenette was sinking into the kiss and taking control of it, his arms tightening around you. 

All too soon, however, it was over and you were met with his fond smile. “Can we go back to bed? I think we both deserve it,” He grinned pulling you closer to him. 

And who were you to turn down being held by your new lover?

requests are open and reblogs are appreciated!

[multiplicity-positivity]

hi uh i could use some advice :<

im a host of a recent system of 20-ish and guh i am t i r e d

im mainly looking for advice on how to switch or just retreat into the headspace/leave front or even just kinda stop being fully aware while still being in front for awhile bc id rlly like to take a break and the realization that im most likely front attracted/frontstuck is kinda making me more tired of being in front

also if it helps at all my(&) system is parogenic + traumagenic in origin (specifically parotraumagenic) and theres kinda iffy communication between members (some of them i have clear communication with and they randomly pop up to say stuff, some i have no idea where they are and some of them i can usually only hear when im directly interacting with them).

afaik (as far as i know) only three?? ppl have rlly "fronted" per se, and the rest have been co-con

i apologize for the long and mildly depressing ask but any help is appreciated also dont forget to hydrate

Hello! We have some posts that might help you that we’d like to share if that’s okay. The first is a post we wrote a while back with some tips on switching from our own experience:

We’d also like to share this post by @rin-and-jade on being frontstuck or frontlocked, and how to go about unsticking yourself!

Our own system host (Parker) is almost always fronting to some extent. It can certainly be exhausting and disheartening fronting nonstop, especially when other members of your system can seemingly come and go as they please. He’s going to put some info under a cut for how he copes with fronting constantly, in case you want some advice on coping with being genuinely unable to switch out!

We hope something here will be helpful for you! We’re wishing you the best of luck with switching out or at least learning how best to cope with fronting in your future!

(Host here - I’ll just write this bit if thats okay. Anyway here’s some stuff I do to deal with The Horrors of perpetual existence)

Meditation

Taking a few moments to sit in comfortable silence can be useful for me when I’m feeling stressed or overwhelmed or straight up exhausted. Here’s how I meditate (I’m no expert and I’m sure there’s better ways to do this… this is just what I do)

- get in a comfortable position in a quiet place where I’m not likely to be disturbed

- set a timer on my phone for 5 minutes

- close my eyes, focus on my breathing

- don’t dwell on any thoughts but also don’t push them away; acknowledge them and let them go

- try to stay still and calm until my timer goes off

And that’s it. Sometimes I get interrupted by an alter or something outside, but for the most part, this is how I’ve been able to meditate effectively.

Rest

I take naps whenever I can. I sit down whenever I can. I’ll literally just close my eyes for a few minutes whenever I can. Our body has issues with chronic fatigue, and fronting constantly can sometimes exacerbate our exhaustion. So yeah I am a huge fan of naps and will often set a timer for like 15-20 minutes and snooze whenever the opportunity arises. Even just lying down with closed eyes can help replenish some energy.

Distractions

Reading, watching something on TV, or playing video games can help give me somewhat of a break even if I’m still fronting. I do tend to try and keep us distracted as much as possible… sometimes to our own detriment. But if you find that you really aren’t ever able to switch out, or if your system is specutien and that’s just the way your system functions, finding things you enjoy that can serve as distractions may help you as well.

Saying No

This one’s tough, but I’m trying to learn to say no when I’m overwhelmed or have too much on my plate. This means sometimes I’ll cancel plans, hand off a responsibility, make a compromise, or turn down an opportunity if I don’t have the energy for it.

Honestly idk how much my addition can help you, but if you find that you’re not ever able to switch out at all please know there’s other folks out there in similar positions. Hoping you can make the most of your situation, anon /genuine

[heartslobbf]

i watched heartstopper s2 because i was an avid osemanverse enjoyer in my early teen years (back when alice oseman still had anons on rip) and owe some of my aspec self-discovery to their writing. i knew they had written an aroace storyline into this series and wanted to see it because whilst i knew as an aroallo lesbian i wouldn’t totally resonate and might be a bit cheesed off by aspects of it, i enjoy aromantic crumbs, and i enjoy discussing aspec Stuff even more. it was……. an interesting experience? has certainly given me a lot to think about. gushy rant below the cut :)

i will say, i think that the amatonormativity is still strong, and rigid in this show. it’s like, isaac is the exception to the rule and his true love is books, and he gets to yell at his friends for all being so damn couple-y and romance-obsessed but there’s no resolution to that. is that realistic? yeah, sure, allo friends can fucking suck, but heartstopper is the kind of show aiming to do certain things for queer kids where id expect a dialogue about this. you know, charlie & co coming to understand aspec identities and becoming more conscious of how amatonormativity affects them, interrogating it in such a way that these queer couples can also be liberated from its trappings. juicy shit like that. didnt happen tho. isaac gets a book about asexuality (no mention of aromanticism on its cover!!! the word is used by the artist who vaguely explains both terms to isaac, but there is a much greater focus on asexuality, so much so that this morning i saw pink fucking news celebrating isaac’s asexual storyline without a mention of his aromanticism) and that’s it.

a lot of that criticism is arguably coloured by my experience as an aroallo person, because i just want aromanticism to be engaged with as aromanticism. you know aroaces we are besties in arms solidarity and all that, and im so fucking happy you got some great asexual rep that frequently used the word asexual, as well as your flag and iconography. like fuck yeah!!!!!! let’s go!!!!!! however, aromanticism is not a subset of asexuality, is not an ‘extreme form’ of asexuality, does not necessarily have anything to do with asexuality. im sure the aspec folks know this, but allo fuckers dont and that means that this canonically aromantic character who was emotionally affecting to me is one that im gonna be barred from resonating with again and again.

you know, moments of isaac’s story were so profound and moving for me. i cried at the kiss scene in episode 5, it was probably the single most relatable moment of tv (related to my experiences with sexuality) that ive ever seen. its certainly not my favourite tv moment of all time lol, relatability ≠ quality, but when youre part of a marginalised group and experience a lot of loneliness and alienation surrounding your identity it is great to see it reflected. i honestly loved that shit!!!!! ive been there!!!! that’s me!!!!!! the wanting and the not wanting!!! the jealousy and confusion and alienation, the longing to be able to feel what you can’t just so you don’t have to be so lonely, the knowledge that you’re just not that person…… oh it was great. it was fucking great. so you can maybe appreciate how upsetting it is for other people to neglect the aromantic facets of this canonically aromantic character, when we dont get shit.

having said that, asexuals also dont get shit; my issue is absolutely not with isaac being aroace, but rather with how mainstream understanding of aspec identities is still so piss poor that people neglect the aromantic aspect of that identity. i found isaac to be a relatable character and i enjoyed and appreciated that about him; i wish more people would talk about him being both asexual and aromantic, because aromanticism does not get talked about enough as anything other than an ‘extension’ of asexuality, an idea which only diminishes the complexity and vastness of both (fucking awesome and beautiful) identities. love and light and solidarity forever with all other aspec folk <3

[safyresky]

I ENDED UP CALLING MY MOM AND I GOT SOME T E A (a follow up to this post)

Obligatory out of context Jacqueline to preface the vent:

another oldie but goodie, lmao

SO I GAVE INTO THE FEELING IN MY BONES AND CALLED MY MOM

"hey mom, im feelin a lil low bc MIL is mad about the car and is giving Richard crap--"

"oh girl I KNOW I got the lecture too"

I was like UM. HELLO?? GIRL D I S H

so she DISHED and y'all. when my MIL went over last week for a help with technology (bc she is very bad with even the most basic of shit), she APPARENTLY went on the same rant with my MOM, who did NOT appreciate it as my Mom is A) very excited and happy that I got a new car, bc, y'know, now I can go places SAFELY and B) she is of the opinion that it is 100% MY CAR. Which isn't wrong! This was to replace MY car, not Richard's; we just went together and co-signed bc I was more than happy to share it in name (and he was too bc cheaper rates lol). "I didn't want to tell you bc, you know, Richard is ALWAYS with you," says my mom, to which I reply

"JANE it is A-OKAY bc she's giving him SHIT for it too and he's ready to explode about it, they are NOT of the same mind"

It's hard to talk turkey about Richard and his mum with my mom bc back in HS when we met he was v much a Momma's boy, but then, as most people do, he grew up and, as some people do, went away for school and learnt oh god, my mom's kinda toxic??? and emotionally incestuous sometimes??? and does NOT treat me WELL??? and has been working VEYR HARD in the last. 8 or so years. to draw up boundaries with her and such, and this has only increased post-marriage and post me starting therapy a couple of years back as well.

But my Mom does not recognize that, and trying to explain it to her is, frankly, exhausting. So I do what I can to defend his cute lil ass and get on with the point, which is what I did today, but that's not the cruz of the matter here

THE CRUX IS THE TEA!

WHICH IS THAT. MY MIL'S RANT TO MY MOM INCLUDED THE JUICY, JUICY DETAIL OF "you know, why didn't they talk to ME about this decision, I could've helped them get a CHEAP CAR and save MONEY"

Well, Margie. Margie. Sweetie. My darling darling MIL.

1. RICHARD AND I ARE MARRIED IT IS ME AND HIM NOT ME AND HIM AND YOU, AND THIS WAS AN US DECISION, WITH OUR FINANCES, AND OUR TRAVEL/WORK-LIFE BALANCE/MENTAL HEALTH/SAFETY ISSUE.

2. IT ORIGINATED OUT OF ME REPLACING MY CAR; NOT RICHARD REPLACING HIS. AND THAT IS WHY. YOU WERE NOT CONSULTED, BC THE PEOPLE WHO NEEDED TO BE CONSULTED--ME AND RICHARD AND MY DAD (whomst is Fitzy's proper owner) WERE CONSULTED! AND WE TOOK CARE OF IT OURSELVES!

3. WHY WOULD I CONSULT YOU ABOUT A DECISION THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE YOU? AH!

So, there was some interesting stuff I immediately told Richard who replied to my four option plan with a "Well I tried B, and we seem to be going back to C, so I am now going to focus on D" and like, GOOD! YOU DON'T NEED HER OPINION!

ALSO

MY GOD! I DO NOT WANT A CHEAPER CAR. I WANT A GOOD CAR THAT IS RELIABLE AND ISN'T GOING TO BREAK IN ~5 YEARS! AND IF IT DOES, GUESS WHAT? BC IT'S NEWER AND ACQUIRED THROUGH A DEALER, IT'LL BE UNDER A WARRANTY! I DON'T WANT TO GET A LESS SHITTY CAR TO REPLACE MY SHITTY CAR, I WOULD RATHER GET A NEWER ONE THAT I KNOW IS GOING TO LAST A HOT MINUTE! THE LAST 2 HONDAS MY FAM HAS HAD HAVE LASTED 16 YEARS! 16 YEARS! WITH CANADIAN WINTERS! MY GOD! THAT'S IMPRESSIVE AS FUCK AND I LOVE THAT RELIABILITY! AHHHH

So YEAH it's been a DAY and like, I was under the impression that it was ME and RICHARD who were married, not me and him AND MIL! AHHHHH

anyway, I felt better after chatting with my mom, even if she didn't really get it, bc A) TEA and B) she's up at the Falls with my aunts rn and at one point on the phone this happened:

My aunt in the background: JANE. JANE. GIVE ME THE PHONE GIVE ME THE. DANIELLA. DANIELLA CAN YOU HEAR ME

Me: yeah

Aunt: LISTEN, I DON'T KNOW WHY YOUR MIL IS MAD AT YOU, AND IT'S CERTAINLY NONE OF MY BUSINESS, BUT I AM GOING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING THAT I TRULY BELIEVE GRANDPA WOULD'VE TOLD YOU. FOR HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS SITUATION. WHAT TO SAY TO HER

Me: okay...

Aunt: HE HAD A SPECIAL PHRASE, ALRIGHT? NOW, DON'T GET ME WRONG. HE LOVED HIS MOTHER IN LAW. BUT WHEN SHE GOT TO BE TOO MUCH, HE'D TURN TO HER AND SAY, "comes merda"

Me, RECOGNIZING the Portuguese immediately and having to recalculate: DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME MY GRANDFATHER WOULD WANT ME TO TELL MY MIL TO EAT SHIT

My Aunt, without missing a beat: YES

My Mom was laughing soo hard in the background my aunt had to hold the phone for a hot minute lmao.

[lgchanbin]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 .. 𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍 !

hi everyone! i go by SAWYER (any pronouns he/she/they) and after eyeing lgc for quite some months .. i've decided to take the leap and finally join ! i'm super excited to be here with this muse i've had in my head for a while now ! i see all your messages in my ims and i'll get back to you all as soon as i can. ♡ the quickest way to get to know this must is probably though his STATS PAGE, but i'll try to put a few quick facts under the read more and some connection ideas to help get things started. just a quick note; i'm still getting my bearings and am not yet sure what events are going on and what he can participate in, so a little guidance would be super appreciated ! i also just want to give everyone a heads up that this blog is stuck on the new post editor since it's a new blog, so cutting posts might be difficult with me for a while. i'm still figuring it out. so i appreciate your patience with me in the meantime !

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍 !

the son of a b-list actor and a first generation idol who had a very short-lived career, hanbin has been called every alternative name for a nepotism baby that there is. despite neither of his parents being especially successful in their respective careers, he's been the target of bullying and scrutiny of his peers for most of his life.

a bit of a tumultuous past, hanbin was born in korea, but spent most of his schooling years in los angeles, california where he went by the name benjamin "ben" go. he moved back to seoul near the beginning of high school and typically prefers to be called hanbin rather than his chosen english name.

he's a rather soft spoken sort of kid, a bit insecure due to the cruel nature of previous classmates and peers. he would very much like to be responsible for his own name and reputation, but somehow he still lingers in the shadow of his parents' names. a very hard worker in lessons and wants desperately to be liked by his peers.

signed to lgc ent. in january 2020, so just going on his third year with the company. he's probably a bit antsy to see what becomes of his career, if he'll find more success or follow down the same mediocre path as his family members. he's trying very hard to be patient, but i think he is struggling with doubts if he'll ever see the stage.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 & 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

while i don't imagine that his parents are especially popular —certainly not his mother— i do think it might be fun to have a muse who's familiar with their work, possibly inspired by them ?? a fan who thinks that they deserved better than where their careers have gone?

i'm a very big fan of negative relationships; if anyone has a muse who would resent him for being "born into" the entertainment industry, who would call him a nepotism baby to his face or otherwise act like he shouldn't be here without the connections his family has. perhaps it could turn into enemies to lovers ??

other trainees signed in january 2020 ?? better if your muse has already debuted; hanbin will undoubtedly compare his own career to your muse's and agonize over why he's not good enough yet. friendly rivalries can be fun as well — friends who push one another to improve in various ways. i believe hanbin has a competitive nature that could be awoken with the right motivation !

i love love and writing romantic interactions ! give me all sorts of different lovey plots ! unrequited crushes ( either on hanbin's side or your muse's side ), puppy love, exes, almosts, yearning and pining, whatever ! i'm not 100% certain of my muse's sexuality yet —and hanbin himself might not be 100% certain himself !— so i'm open to discussion and a little self discovery with my muse.

hanbin's sister is currently an npc with minimal development. if anyone is looking for a second or third muse, i would love to see her in the directory too someday ! that said, i think trusting people with a family connection is scarier than trusting people with a ship, so i'm looking for great co-writing chemistry ooc with anyone who's interested in picking up this connection someday !

other, less closely related family members i'm less picky about ! if anyone's muse's story fits a plot for cousins or other distant relatives, let's talk !

i'll add more ideas to this post as they come to me, but this is all i have for now. i'm looking forward to meeting everyone and getting this boy involved !

[bi-demon-ium]

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOO

s2 ep1 liveblog!!!

[voiceover comes on] HIMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sticky at the boatwright academy!!!! getting the appreciation and awe he deserves!!! also holy shit his voice sounds deeper

ALSO HILARIOUS MADGE IS LITERALLY SENDING THEM LETTERS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SCHOOL DAY AND EVERYONES JUST LIKE??? OKAY

also great job madge you’ve mastered the art of conveyance and round-trippery

wetherall farm! bittersweet for me

kate & milligan!!!!!!! also it looks like milligan might not have known about this scavenger hunt ahead of time lkghjfgh although im not sure its very funny if he just got the note and was like ADVENTURE????

CURTAIN’S STUPID ASS POSTER LMAO

also “family” 🥺

new theme!!! I mean new theme like. animation not song but like. ldkfjgldkfgj

im pausing to look at each one now and then switching it again

BRIEF THEME INTERLUDE:

mr benedict’s: a book with a space carved out for a safe, two portraits that are inverse blue/green and labeled NOT identical (dgfljdgfgh) the BOOK THRONE (and it’s got “ivanhoe” and the “katsuta precept” on it!! from last season!!) and then the plaid note they all just got—notably not green plaid—labelled MOST CERTAINLY NOT CALMING fghlkfjghfgh

CURTAIN HAS THE GOLF CARTA AND SFGLJDFGLKDJGDKFG AN APPLAUSE SIGN LABELLED “LOUDLY PLEASE” HES SUCH A LOSER (also the “NOT identical” portraits again!)

number two and rhonda both have worldly wisdom which is sweet but also rhonda has two different fluencies in language at least and also “arctic sailboat crew”?????

milligan has “dog man” and boots labelled “1.5 litres”????? also the multi tool 🥺 the little I watched muted earlier I remember him giving her the multi-tool 🥺

miss perumal has sciences and humanities (a good balance girl!) and what looks to be a handmade compass?? also the stolen motorcycle drove by f;ghgh

reynie having “apollo” gets me somehow

sticky with a euripdes quote lkfghjfgh but I mean “there’s safety in numbers” + comfortable being uncomfortable (ohhh) a room key (guess we know which room they have lmao) and playing cards labelled “high-opt counting (generally frowned upon)” dlfkgjdfgj sticky and co banned in vegas canon???

KATE HAS BUCKET AND LOCKPICK AND ALSO HER NEW BOOMERANG

ohhhhh constance has her own now instead of it being obviously separate….. but also it’s all arctic crew themed???????? and a bear<3

okay and now I just rewatched without pausing and man I missed the theme song<3

loving the new starry background tho I think that’s a ocol way to do it. wonder if s3 will have clouds or something

OKAY INTERLUDE OVER

god I want to punch curtain so bad

constance looks like she’s trying to explode him with her brain

OH WE’RE BLAMING DR GARRISON HUH?

okay the questions are: a) is she in on this and it’s part of the plan or did he just straight up take her shit and throw her under the bus? and b) is this, writing-wise, going to be an explanation for why dr. garrison just straight-up isn’t in this season, or is she going to show up again regardless?

GOD I WANT TO DESTROY CURTAIN SO BAD I WANT TO KILL HIM OH MY GOD

literally literally I want to kill him what the fuck

like partly bc it’s just UNFAIR which might be childish but like NO YOU DIDN’T DO THAT STOP but also because like. YOU. YOU LIAR. YOU FUCKIN LIAR YOU LITERALLY CAUSED THE EMERGENCY YOU SMUG LITTLE BITCH I HATE YOU IM EXPLODING YOU

his stupid fucking back cover photo seeing up close does not make him look any better

ridding the world of sadness objectively sounds bad actually

yes the ups and downs are what make us human that isn’t a naysayer thing what are you fuckign saying girl

like. sometimes being sad is good. what are you. what

that pointing is going to brainwash her somehow

his creepy ass face and her weird response yeah okay

I hate him and the close ups are making me uncomfortable

sir I hate you

it’s funny bc it’s like [close up of curtain] mm uncomfortable [close up of mr benedict] HIM!!!!!!!!!! <33333

oh constance was about to straight up destroy the tv lkgjflghjgh and rhonda just casually was like no <33

….dutch baby. dutch baby?

LDKFGJLKJ NUMBER TWO YOU DIDN’T RECOGNIZE HER VOICE IN FRENCH

“a character of my own. a gullible traveller” and rhonda’s face in response ldkfgjg

oh so here’s the logging thing!!! dlkfgjldkfgjdlfkj number two SCREAMING I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

oh mr benedict<3

IRRITABLE AND ANNOYING??? MAAM :(

the injustice of course hes hung up on the injustice

…..why do I have a feeling that abruptly cut off call is the last they’re going to hear from each in some time.

torn between two emotions: a) mr benedict………adorable…… the windswept corls thing…. b) second-hand embarrassment.

I mean here’s the thing I genuinely don’t think he’s just jealous (????? what????) I think it’s a) genuine concern that curtain is going to do something else dangerous (“we seem pretty safe” number two I love you but curtain is extremely terrible and everything about his current media presence screams suspicious and evil lkgjfgkhjfgh????) and b) less “I am jealous HE is getting attention not ME” and more like I was saying earlier just that. slightly childish like. but that’s. UNFAIR. not in a “*i* deserve the attention” but in a “he’s LYING and no one’s NOTICIED?? he’s just taking credit for things he didn’t do???” and part of it is “taking credit for things *I AND THE KIDS* DID DO” but like. I think it’s a lot more worry and also the injustice thing. and it is slightly childish but like. a) I get it. I mean. same. b) what’s that quote about children think the world should be better and are deeply mad that it isn’t, and they’re right

but also the fact hes apparently planning to just crash a symposium and tell everyone curtain is fake like that’ll work, especially considering thy’ve tried before, is.

im shriveling in my seat.

mr benedict please I love you and you are smarter than this

uh oh number two lsot him in the crowd that’s not good

not that it’s her fault but you know

milligans like. have you considered. a change of clothes????

kate please youre going on a (as far as you guys know) planned adventure you need clothing. what are you saying.

ohhhh the multi-tool…. for the bucket…… it’ s so thoughtful..

also “I don’t have room” that thing is tiny kate

and his [not changing tone at all] you fit a winch in there.

“I can take care of myself” accepting a multi tool is not . not taking care of yourself

also “additionally” kghjfglhfgh

and the whole “what if I got my own bucket. a pail, perhaps” dlgfjkfghh I know we’ve seen that but lmao

oh sticky’s boatwright friends…. I wonder how relevant they’ll end up being

ohhh miss perumal :) she is. pretty

oh…. reynie’s letters…….i get it Reynie i’m the same way

I love miss perumal so much

she gives good advice but is like but we can still wait

ah! constance’s terrifying smile

OH SHES PRACTICING FOR THEM……. OH……….. OHHHHHH

im perishing

I love the music playing

ohhhh she gives a small but real smile when she sees reynie outside….ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

everyone meeting again,,,,, AAAAAAAA…………….

and yeah everyone’s visibly older that’s so weird

GANGLY AND WEIRD THERE IT IS

“we’re all grown” “no. that’s not it” constance I love you

YES REYNIE HUG PLEASE

kate goes for the mildly painful high five instead

lfgkhjflkgh they’re like “you did explode the whisperer with your mind we have questions” she STILL HASN’T TOLD THEM

oh…… milligan’s whittling the “dog man” thing from his theme intro

DLKJFKG “….dog man?”

the montage of all of them working/studying(?)/playing together….ohh……

and now they’re lal on the couch where they first found out about everything (I think?) but this time constance is sitting with them, aprt of the team………

YEAH THAT PHONE CALL WAS THE LAST ONE FUCK I WAS RIGHT

if you really think that they’re not going to participate yall are crazy

also rhonda and milligan look so good……. shame they’re speaking in French

obviously we know, even if we hadn’t seen any trailers or promos, narratively it has to be curtain but it’d be very funny if this was just like. yea the mob in like. idk france or whatever gottem. hold on kids we gotta go blow up a warehouse full of cocaine

constnace abruptly hugging rhonda like that’s not deeply suspicious I love you constance you tricky little girl

is it me or does constance’s accent sound different

also again that entire post I made about constance’s reaction to this dlkjfghh

yeah reynie maybe that’s the prize. get invested!

so reynie is the one who suggests that this will get them to their last location! (although it’s not impossible constance also thought of this as mentioned in post)

have the adults. not thought about this? or will they?

“I crave the frontiers of human experience” constance I love you

THRE’S THE NAME AGAIN

“Rhyming is the lowest form of poetic expression” DON’T YOU LITERALLY DO RHYMING?

I love riddles<3

REYNIE EXPLAIN YOURSELF BEFORE JUST RUNNING OFF

oh so we’re not going to actually see them kidnapped they’re just. in the car now. lkgjfghh

OH YEAH SHOUTING “DRIVER” IS GOING TO WORK NICHOLAS I LOVE YOU IDIOT

AND HSEJ UST STARTS DOING IT TOO LOUDER WHEN HE GIVES UP FGLKHJGFHJFGH

helop I love them os much

shes just like [SCREAMING] [KICKS SEAT] and hes like [disgruntled pat pat]

AND PLEASE I know we already saw part of this but their expressions when the snacks come out,,,,,, his “oh. oh” and just befuddled bewilderment and her wide eyesl kdgjfkjhfgh

and that’s like fancy food, prepared food that probably requires refrigeration, it’s fresh,

(“pork rillette?” “no” “[chomps]”)

ohhh mr benedict is trying to convince himself this is some powerful benefactor who wants to help bc they are providing snacks. sir. I understand being an optimist but you are locked in a car

although to be fair that does happen in tv shows sometimes.

so who knows.

and also we don’t know how they got in the car were they knocked out, grabbed and shoved in, or did they call a taxi and then find they oculdn’t get out and were going the wrong way, like. what

number two’s skeptical expression DID HSE UJST BREAK OFF THE HANDLE LDKGJDLKGJDLGFKJFGH

“which dictionary though? benedict’s obsessed” lldfkgjdg

“a lot’s happened since you left, george [menacing smile] many dictionaries acquired” and he just looks kinda cowed ldkdgfjfgh

WOW THAT’S AL OT OF BOOKS

“I’ve never understood his shelving system” “there is no system” of course

NOTHINGNESS CLUB I LOVE THAT ACTUALLY THAT’S VERY FUNNY

oph reynie you are not. subtle. sir

I’m with him tho in that situation if I were in his shoes I’d be the same way

“what do you harvest? loneliness?” ldkjghfghh

OHHH UNEXPECTED HEART PUNCH

“just you and your father against the world” “kinda like you” “ha!” “what’s it like, having benedict for a dad?” “not dad, roommate”

respectful distance, intelligent conversation. I mean. high compliment from constance (remembering in s1 ep1 when they were like [horrified tone] you GAVE HER A ROOMMATE?)

but also shes gonna acknowledge hes her dad this season isn’t she

god I hope so anyway

“I ALLOW HIM TO BELIEVE HE IS GOOD AT CHESS” DLGJKGKLHJFHLKJFG I LOVE THEM OS MUCH PLEASE

constance consistently calling out kate dlkgjghfgh

also “YOU LIKE ME! YOU ADMITTED IT!” and constancebeing like :/

OH YOU’D LIKE MORE OBOKS ON THE FARM???? I KNOW MY COLLECTION SKEWS HEAVILY TOWARDS HISTORICAL THRILLERS,

 oh milligan I love you so much…. his deep suspicion/concern

I adore him please

also I know we’ve talked about itbut still not over his new style

constance continuing to call her out without even saying words

“no, now I’m just snooping” kgljfkfgh

a book in a book! hey this is the one from mr benedict’s opening theme!

ohh his handwriting

he had a gibberish book made an dprinted lkdjgffgh

stop flipping like that flip faster

also the overlays lkdjghlkfgjhfgh

“Very clear” “What does it mean” yeah

of course kate looks for the structural/physical answer

YEAH HE WOULD IF IT WAS A GIBBERISH BOOK

even kate is like let’s not desecrate a book

put the page back in

dlkgjfgk so she did just rip it out ofr no reason . love her

“george, as a young man, that is sad” dlfkgjfg I love you

“the point is, benedict knows you like … things nautical” “yeah we’ve talked about it a lot” YOU HAVE??? 🥺

ALSO his answering almost shy smile when kate says “he knew you’d know!” ohhh

also this is a pattern but still funny how everyone doesn’t even call him mr benedict they just straight up call him benedict

rhonda and and milligan and number two get first names come on

well. number two. is . questionable and technically so is milligan but . STIL

“EVERYBODYK NOWS THAT KATE” please constance

“I have faith” oh, reynie

they all agree!!!!!!!<3333333333

and rhonda and milligan unfortunately oblivious for now…..

oh is kate tempted to stay behind? she’s holding the note so reluctantly….

but of course these resourceful kids—OH NO THEY’RE BIENG WATCHED OH NO OH NO OH NO

I assume that’s the water polo team

ohh….. the shot of millign standing there with the curtains blowing right before rhonda screams MILLIGAN!

and mdlgkjgfhlkfjgh missp erumal’s “WHAT?!”

ohhh they don’t have the tickets dlfkgjdfg

“SHIP NOT BOAT” “stern haha” “what. OH”

obviously they’re too resourceful to not get on but very funny if rhonda milligan and missp erumal arrived in a panic to find them trying to get tickets desperately ldkghjfglhkgh

and they all take a page from constances book and stowaWAYUFSGKJDFGJ DLKGFJ CURTAINS DANCE SCNRENIORTHMYHODLSDFFG

help im in actual tears

this is not hyperbole there are literal tears in my eyes

WHAT IS THIS WHAT IS HE DOING

lkajlkjdlfkgjdlkfjg and someone walks in and he just keeps going

same energy as the master tbh

the smooth turn out of it when the guy calls l lkdfjglkdfjg

also mr benedict being like “well at least they’ve given a nice breakfast” and number two saying “how pleasant of him” HIM implying she already thinks this is curtain despite her being the one to imply everyone was probsbly fine earlier????

CURTAIN IN HIS STUPID LITTLE GOLF CART

oh she definitely didntk now they both reacted him with “OH GOD. OH NO. FUCK. AAAA” and her with immediately about to launch herself forward and fistfight him

actually would have been very funny if before anything even happened she just leaped forward and punched him in the nose

I mean there are no guards SUPER close by so presumably they could stop her from killing him but not from breaking his nose

BROTHER HE CALLED HIM BROTHER

“and your associate”

HE KEEPS CALLING HER THAT

“im not privy to your organizational flow chart” dlgkjflghjfg that’s her name dumbass

oh well that’s terrifying!

“I can’t wait to share that with you… I know that you’ll be…………… elated :)”

AH THERE THEY ARE!

rhonda noticing the suitcases lkgjfghfh

“they believed us” ohhhhh damn right they did! uh oh!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

First request here! Im so excitedd lol 😆 may i request idia, cater, vil, deuce and azul (sep) with an s/o who knows nothing about technology? Like where they come from there are no videogames, no social media, no phones, etc. So naturally s/o is curious and asks the boys to help them learn more about it.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Idia has no idea how you've even been ALIVE for this long without ANY tech whatsoever. (No anime? No video games? What madness is this?!) In fact, when you first tell him, he almost seems repulsed at the idea of your lifestyle before coming to NRC.

He makes it a personal mission to get you acquainted with all things tech, and takes great pride in doing so. Not only does his big brain come in handy, but he also gets to show off and help out his S/O at the same time. It's like killing three birds with one stone (... or getting a triple kill combo in a shoot'm up, in Idia's case).

He prioritizes showing you how to use touch screen devices and keyboards first, since those are relatively simple to grasp. Idia may be used to them, but he knows that you aren't, so he has to start small and build up in complexity.

As he teaches you, Idia comes to rediscover many of the things he once took for granted, like a phone camera's timer or how a fresh joystick makes satisfying clicks as it is maneuvered around. Seeing your face brighten with each new feature you learn helps Idia come to appreciate his tech--not to mention fall in love with you all over again.

Of course, Idia dedicates the most time to showing you how to play video games (since he wants to be able to play co-op and party games with you)! The controller's shape is unlike anything you've ever held before, so Idia has to take your hands in his to show you how to properly hold it. His hands are ice cold like the kiss of death itself, but they quickly warm up against you, much like his flaming hair and cheeks.

Cater's super sympathetic, cooing about how he feels bad for you! He practically puts his whole life on social media, so he can't imagine living any other way! The world just seems so much smaller without his phone in his hand--so how in the world must feel?

First thing's first! Before teaching you anything, Cater insists on taking a selfie. When you respond with a confused "what's a selfie and why are we taking one?", he gives a laugh and says it'll be a good way of documenting your tech journey. Not only that, but he wants to be your first (selfie)!

With Cater being... well, Cater, he's going to show you how to navigate Magicam ;9! He even helps you set up your own account, including your profile pic and description (which tags his account, declaring Cater as your boyfriend to the public~... while his description declares you as his S/O to his thousands of followers).

He also teaches you about what the best angles and lighting are for pics! Cater points out the various filters and other editing tools at your disposal, his smiling face hovering close to yours as he swipes through your options--and when he gives you that tender sideways glance, you 100% understand why people want to capture moments forever in photos.

You quickly grasp using a touch screen keyboard, but whenever you text him, he litters his responses with emojis--maybe to better express his feelings for you, maybe to just mess with you. Sometimes he just straight up sends nothing but emojis to see if you can decipher his message! But no matter what his motive is, those colorful texts spark joy in you every time you get a notification.

Certainly, it’s unusual that you’ve never come by modern technology before, but Vil considers himself well-equipped to teach you the ins and outs of it. There’s nothing wrong with your roots, but there’s also nothing wrong with expanding your horizons, either!

His approach is very “hands on”. Vil hands you a device and, after giving you a basic rundown of its functions, allows you to explore it. The first of Vil’s many tests is sitting down for a movie together (so you can learn the remote control’s buttons). You watch, totally mesmerized, as another Vil appears on the TV. No matter where you stop or start, he always looks so beautiful--both in person and on the screen. Vil catches you staring and smirks, the lights from the movie making him appear all the more dazzling.

Vil takes on the role of a strict and somewhat overprotective guardian as he guides you through the cesspit of social media. As a celebrity, he’s big on internet etiquette and watching what he says online, so he passes on that knowledge to you. No sharing of personal details, block what makes you uncomfortable, etc. (After all, he wants his beloved to be safe online!)

While Vil wants you to have fun online, he also reminds you to not become too immersed in social media--it’s only meant to be a temporary escape. Stay too long, and you might get wrapped up in FOMO, rather than enjoying what you already have.

Vil can’t just go around parading that he’s spoken for--it would unnecessarily expose you to the public eye, and could potentially put you in danger, so he asks that you don’t @ him on socials. That’s just the price he has to pay for his star status--besides, you’ll always have him to yourself in private, right?

While Deuce is initially surprised, he's very understanding of your situation! He knows that everyone comes from different circumstances, and he doesn't let that cloud his judgement of others or of their abilities much. You’ve looked past Deuce’s old self, so he’s able to look past your own oddities!

He worries about being an adequate tutor for you, since he isn't exactly the best student himself. Just like he feared, Deuce ends up being not the best at explaining things, even the simplest of commands. He just kind of... does something, then looks at you expectantly to copy him. (B-But hey, he’s trying!)

As you slowly start to get the hang of it, Deuce gets super excited and cheers you on! A slap on your shoulder or back, a high-five, a fist bump... It’s really cute how animated he gets with your steady progress, and it motivates you to keep improving!

When it comes to helping you set up your phone, Deuce gets oddly fidgety. Then, mid-lesson, he blurts out (with a beet red face) that he’d like to have your number so you can talk, even if you can’t see each other! Deuce sighs with relief when you give him the okay--and practically drops your phone five times while he nervously punches his number in and sends a text to himself to confirm.

If your devices ever get broken, Deuce lets you know you can bring them to him for a quick fix! At first, you’re super impressed by his technical prowess--but then you realize when Deuce says he’ll “fix” something, he actually means he’ll kick, punch, and chuck your device at the wall until it works again. (And surprisingly? It works most of the time.)

Azul understands your plight, though to a lesser degree. Back when he lived in the Coral Sea, he was limited in the technologies he could access, simply because some of them did not work in the waters. Now, he’s very comfortable with using land tech and scamming tutoring others--so leave it to him to teach you everything you need to know!

You report to Azul’s office after the usual hours of operation and sit next to him as he demonstrates the various tools of his trade on a laptop. This spreadsheet program to automatically calculate net gains and losses, what’s left in their stock, total and individual sales... this search engine to do market research... this custom website for sharing the lounge’s menu... It really makes you appreciate how hard-working and dedicated Azul is!

He generally focuses on showcasing the practical applications of technology, like setting alarms and timers, and typing down important events on a phone. Azul’s sure that you’ll find them useful in your daily life, from waking up on time for classes to setting aside weekends for your dates.

He does eventually introduce you to Magicam (if only to have you follow the Mostro Lounge’s page), as well as to Kelp, some underwater restaurant review site. With (fake) teary eyes, Azul begs for you to write a review (or two, or three, or ten) to help boost the lounge’s overall star rating--and in return, he’ll reward you with a romantic candlelit dinner with all your favorite foods~

As a special gift, Azul surprises you with a pair of blue light blocking glasses! He explains that being on a screen for too long can damage your eyes, so it’s best to take precautions to protect them. Azul slips your new glasses on for you, fingers lingering on your cheeks and cupping your face--holding his whole world in his hands.

[snzunii]

LOVE ME THE WAY YOU DID BEFORE [2]

there are so many things that ran haitani could do, but can one of them take him back to you?

+ tags. romance, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, hurt no comfort, bonten executive!reader, explicit sexual content, marital issues, unresolved issues, misogyny, death, neglect, canon-typical violence, crimes and criminals, drugs, smoking, drinking, illegal activities, 18+

+ status. on-going !

+ note. hi here's chapter two hehehe let me know what you think! feedbacks are always appreciated. <3 ily all!! close ur eyes on errors cos didn't proofread shejehs ill edit when im not too lazy 😙

+ series masterlist.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“So, you are going to stare at it for how long?”

A giggle escaped from your lips, turning to your boyfriend—no, fiancé beside you. You have been staring at the ring on your finger for God knows how long this day, you should’ve glued your eyes into it if that’s what you’ll do then, Ran thought.

Though, it’s visible in his eyes how glad he is, he wasn’t actually nervous about proposing to you earlier. You have known him since you were twelve, and have been in a long and loving relationship since you were a lovestruck eighteen year old—he has been planning this, imagining this day that he would get down on his knees and propose to you.

If only you could get inside his mind, you’ll see how he planned your future together. Maybe, you’ll tear up a bit—or a lot, it’s melting how Ran’s plans always have you in it. He would never move forward without you by his side. You’re his whole universe, he exists in your boundless galaxy and yours only.

So, no, there’s not a single ounce of worry and doubt in his mind that you’d reject his marriage proposal—that’s how assured you are with one another. That’s how you love each other.

You snuggled a little close to him, pulling the duvet upwards to cover your bare upper body along with his. “Can you blame me? I thought you’d never propose.”

Ran laughed at your ridiculous remark, “Really? You think I would keep up with your sweet ass if I’m not planning to propose? Then what are we doing?”

“I just thought, okay?” you pursed your lip, moving your face a bit close to his, tip of your finger making circles on his chest, “Are we doing a church wedding or a beach? Oh, maybe a garden one. What do you think?”

“Whatever you want, darling. You’re the bride.” he smiled at you before planting a kiss on your forehead. “We’ll have to move to a bigger house though, once we’re married.”

Your forehead creased, “Hm? And why is that? We can just stay here in the penthouse, it’s just the two of us anyway.”

“How about the kids then?” he raised his eyebrow at you, you both certainly can’t build a family in this two bedroom penthouse. It’s part of Ran’s plan that if you both have kids, you’ll move into a bigger house—a cozy and homey one. Yeah, okay—it’s very unusual for him to think about things like that but it’s that kind of thoughts that weirdly excites him.

Despite the bad things that you both have done, you still have pure and wholesome thoughts. That’s his escape from the brutal and unforgiving reality of your job. Being part of the largest criminal organization in the country, thoughts like these keeps him sane. And you by his side, most of all.

“Kids?” you hummed, giving him a cheeky smile. “Would you retract your proposal if I said that I don't want to have kids?”

In your years together, the topic about having children was always passed on as a joke. You never talked about it in a serious way—and maybe, you should talk about it now. Of course, Ran was a bit surprised but considering your past, he and Rindou picked you up in the streets of Roppongi when you were twelve when you had just escaped from the foster family that took you in. You were walking around; a little child, so helpless. It would be understandable that you didn’t want to have kids considering what you have gone through.

But it’s different now, right? You’re there and he’s there… both of you would never abandon your children like that.

“Of course I won’t.” he said, you're all he needs—you and him, that already makes a whole and loving family. He wouldn’t force it if you didn’t want to but it wouldn’t be that bad to think about it, right? “But just think about it, okay? Just imagine little me and you running around the big house.”

It makes your heart happy how dreamy Ran looks while thinking about it, but the idea didn’t excite you as much as he did.

You’re afraid, there is no doubt in that. You grew up without any parental figure by your side—there’s a big dilemma about you being a mother. How could you even be a good mother if you didn’t get to experience being taken care of by your own mother?

You were bounced off to different foster families that treated you nothing but shit. Ran and Rindou were the only family where you felt loved, safe and welcomed.

You don’t even know who or where they are. In your twenty six years of existence on this very earth, you had never met any of your real parents. Moreover, you’re living a treacherous life—you live in the unlawful side of this world. You didn’t want to drag your child into this life where their parents have to look over their shoulders for their whole existence.

You worry for your life and Ran’s enough, you don’t want a little child to add to that.

But you didn’t want to shut down your lover’s dreams and hopes, “Fine. I will think about it, okay? You happy now, Haitani?”

His lips curved into a wide smile and bombarded your face with small kisses, “That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Yeah.” you giggled once his kisses went down on your neck, his figure towering over you as he went above you. “Ran—wait! Oh my god, I said I’ll think about it, not make the baby right now.”

He laughed, pulling the blanket down from covering your body. “Think about it while I’m fucking you, hm?”

“M’kay.” you pulled his nape, pressing your lips into his. “Mhm— love you, Ran. ‘M so in love with you...”

He hummed, sucking and biting on your soft lips—pushing his cock on your gaping hole before answering you—eliciting soft gasps out of you, you were gripping on his hair as you took his overwhelming girth, “Fuck—I’m so in love with you too, my one and only.”

PRESENT.

“So, you got a good fuck yesterday, huh?”

“You know what, Haruchiyo? Fuck you.” you rolled your eyes, and after giving Bonten’s number two a view of your middle finger, you looked out the car window. You knew it, he would pester you about that thing yesterday that never should’ve happened. “And that will never happen again. I swear.”

“Oh, really?” he snorted, taunting you with a laugh as he focused on driving, “Ran! Harder—”

You cut Sanzu off by giving him a little hard punch on the shoulder, which he responded with a childish whine, if you were others then maybe you would have a gun pointing on your head now but over the divorce, Sanzu was one of the people who were by your side when you were astray, which you never expected. “Oh my god. Will you stop? Just fucking stop or I will fucking kick your balls, you shit.”

But of course, it never fazed him and continued on mocking your embarrassing moans yesterday. “I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

“No drugs for you, then.” he said with a huff which earned an eye roll from you, you should start a counter for your eye rolls because you just know that this isn’t the last of them. You’re paired with Sanzu on this job, believe you, there’s more of that today.

“I can get one from our dens, you know? You’re not my only supplier.”

“Whatever.” he answered, you didn’t have any time to reply since you arrived at the location. Today’s job is just a simple one, retrieve the suitcase and you’re done.

You’re currently at the largest hotel and casino in the country, which is owned by Bonten. Though, no one knows about that. You executives are not dim-witted fools to expose that you’re running this big time gambling establishment, that would just give the Intelligence Agencies the chance to dig dirt about your group. You have come a long way just to be caught.

The only people who knew were the executives and of course, Bonten’s frontman for this establishment. “You want to bet on blackjack?”

You stopped walking and looked at the cerise-haired idiot in front of you and walked towards him a little closer since no one should hear what you’re about to say, “Idiot, we know that the game is rigged. Why would you want to bet on that? Are you even thinking, Sanzu?”

“Fuck, I forgot.” he gave you a menacing grin. You took a deep breath, please give me the strength to overcome this day.

How could he even forget when that’s exactly your job? You just groaned in disbelief and continued on walking to the elevator that will lead you to the office upstairs.

“Takumi.” Sanzu called the man in a suit, “Looking good, huh?”

The said man immediately stood up from his comfortable swivel chair and bowed to the two of you, “Mr. Sanzu, Mrs. Haitani.”

Oh my god. Of course, you didn’t escape the subtle yet annoying laugh of the man beside you that led you to pinching his waist. “Haruchiyo.”

He winced in pain and frowned at you, “What?”

“Is there any problem?” Takumi asked, you sighed and shook your head anyway. Takumi took that as a signal to proceed, “I got all the files in the suitcase here. Including the highest bidders for this month and the watch list.”

“Alright.” Sanzu said, getting the suitcase from Takumi. “Is there anything else you want to say?”

“In fact, there is. Please take a seat.” you and Sanzu took a seat on the chair in front of his desk and looked at the monitor once he moved it to face your direction. “Our surveillance camera has picked this car up, loitering around the casino for about a few weeks now.”

“Hmm.” you hummed, raising your eyebrow as you try to figure out who this person might be but you know you really can't by just looking at it, though, this car is awfully familiar to you. “Send the plate number at the Headquarters. We’ll send in more men to oversee this place and investigate. Contact Sanzu if this causes some big problems.”

If this is some agent from the Intelligence Agency then you’d be screwed, big time. But you wouldn’t take some actions as of now, nobody still knows that Bonten owns this casino.

…

“What do you need?” you asked without even sparing him a single glance, which pisses him off because there’s this prick in his chest from the way that you’re treating him. As if the nineteen years together didn’t mean shit to you.

“Mikey called for a meeting. Big mission next week. All the executives are attending.” he simply said, waiting for you to look at him but all you did was nod and stare at your monitor. Why do you act this way?

Why did you even kiss him and had sex with him if you’re going to act like yesterday didn’t mean anything? He knows you, he can feel it. How you looked at him, how you touched him with your soft fingers, how you clinged on to him as if you never want to let go of him ever again.

That’s what you felt yesterday, right? No matter how Ran tells himself that yesterday shouldn't have happened—just like what you said, he can’t help but feel that what went on between you was just right. It was meant to happen.

Did he hurt you too much that you closed all the doors and windows for you and him? Is there no single chance of you two getting back together?

You noticed that Ran was just standing there, looking at you as if he wanted to say something but can’t even begin to open his mouth. You cleared your throat, still focusing on the screen in front of you. “I’ll be there, I just need to-”

“You can't even fucking look at me.” he hissed, he slammed his hand on your desk causing you to jump a bit, “Look at me.”

You know you’ll burst into tears if you look at him—even if it’s just for a second. How can you even bear to look at the person who you claimed to love with all your heart and soul and then wreck him into utter pieces?

“Please.” The desolation was completely visible in his voice—how could you bring yourself to look at him if hearing him plead to you hurts this much? What more if you saw his face? “Let’s just talk about us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

It didn't matter if you come off as some cold hearted bitch or whatever it is. You would never come close to Ran again—you would never hurt him the way you did before.

Even if it destroys you.

For him, you’re like the incandescent light that beautifully shines in the night sky, he can see and admire your beauty—yet he can’t be close to you.

“Really? Nothing?” he chuckled bitterly, “Fuck’s sake. You always do this! You always close yourself off, how can we even fix this if you don't tell me what’s fucking wrong!”

“I’m what’s wrong, Ran! Just fuck off!” you screamed, finally looking at him with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “You want to know what’s wrong? It’s me and what shit goes on inside this head so, just… I can’t do this right now.”

You took a deep breath and walked towards the door, you passed by Ran and was about to open the door when he spoke once again. “We were happy, right?”

Were.

Until you weren't, until you fell into a deep, dark pit that made you lose your mind—that made you feel like you’re the most horrible person in the world for hurting someone who gave their all to you.

Ran was right for blaming you. That’s what you keep telling yourself because if you were him, you would do the same.

“We were.”

“We can be, again, if you just talked to me.” you feel his presence behind you, his arms slowly wrapping around your waist. “Just talk to me, yeah?”

You closed your eyes while you let yourself indulge in this moment, while he’s pulling you close to him, holding you in his arms. It feels like home. Because he is, he is the warmth and safety that you had all these years.

You wanted to just curl up to him and let all your feelings out but you cannot do that without hurting him.

TWO YEARS AGO.

“Rin. Pull over. Now.”

The younger Haitani looked at you with a frown but still, did what you asked. You immediately opened the car door and threw up on the sidewalk.

Rindou was definitely taken aback but he tapped your back nevertheless. “You okay?”

You groaned, the ick was visible on your face as you reached for the tissue on Rindou’s car. “No, shit. Must be what we ate earlier.”

“Or you’re pregnant.” he jokingly said, you closed the car door and looked at him with a frown. He started the engine again and drove, but glanced at you when he felt your piercing stare as if you're going to choke the life out of him. “What?”

“Don't even joke about that.”

Rindou snickered, “Is that so bad? You’re married to my brother for five years and still have no baby.”

Is that so bad?

Is that so bad that you don't want to bear Ran’s child? Not that you don't love him, oh god, you love him with all that you are. You would kill for that man, literally. You even said the night that he proposed to you, that you’d think about it.

But the more that you think about it, the more it scares you. Being married to Ran for five years is enough for you.

Ran is enough for you. You two are happy even without a little child, so really, how can a child make a difference? Sure, you fight but that’s part of every relationship, you feel content with each other.

Is that so bad that you wanted to pour all your love and attention to Ran and him only?

It isn't, right?

But the thing that Rindou said, about you being pregnant just can't leave your mind. You need to know or else you’ll keep on thinking about it. “You’re a shit, Rindou. Take me to a—”

“Hospital?”

You glared at him again earning a laugh from him, “No! Drugstore.”

Rindou mumbled an okay before changing the route, it’s good that you finished the task today and you're free to go wherever you want. And since you're free to go wherever and Rindou being the little shit that he is, he brought you to a hospital.

“What the fuck, I said—nevermind.” you groaned and got out of his car, slamming the door on him. Now that you think about it, you’re late for about a month now, you just thought that it’s because of the pills that you're taking.

And your job is too hectic to keep track, these past few weeks alone were a hassle. You don't even know if you’re able to take your pills—how dumb am I, really?

“You want me to call Ran?” Rindou asked once he caught up to you. You immediately shook your head. But why did he even ask you when he already texted him. “I texted him though.”

“Then why did you even ask me?!”

“To annoy you, I guess.”

…

“They called yet?”

Ran asked you for what you think is the tenth time today. After he rushed into the hospital a few days ago thinking that something happened to you after Rindou just texted him these exact words ‘your wife. hospital.’

He thought you were injured or something, so he went to that hospital in a rush praying to the deities that you’re safe, he wouldn't even forgive himself if something happened to you since he’s not with you.

Relief washed over him when he saw you sitting outside the doctor’s office sitting with his brother. You can never forget how excited he looked once he knew what you’re there for.

Just like now, you see how eager he is to know what the result is. “Can you just take this pregnancy test?”

“No.” you mumbled, continuing to read the cosmopolitan magazine with your legs crossed as you sat on the couch. “We would know the results in a few, can you wait?”

Ran sighed and sat beside you, “Aren't you excited?”

“I am.” you answered, still reading some article that you don't really care about just to avoid your husband.

“You don't look and sound like it.” he got the magazine from your hands and placed it on the center table, “Look at me.”

You can lie all you want but Ran knows you, you’re his wife. His other half, the woman he wakes up to every day in his life, you’re the last person he sees before he closes his eyes—so, you can tell every lie but he can feel you. “What?”

“We’re ready, right? You know, no matter what happens I’ll be there for you—for our baby…”

He was cut off when your phone rings, you both know what that means. The moment that you pick up the phone you’ll know whether there’s a life growing inside you or not.

Ran was about to pick the phone up when you held his wrist. It suddenly hit you, damn right, you aren't excited. You were horrified, when he picked that phone up, you’ll know if you're going to be a mother. Nothing scares you more than that—besides losing Ran.

“What?” he asked you, “It will be okay. Do you trust me?”

But what are you scared of? Ran’s there, he would be, every step of the way. “I do.”

“Let me answer this. No matter what the result is, I love you. Alright?”

The moment that you removed your hand, Ran immediately stood up and picked the phone while you were just sitting there—trying to figure out the look on your husband's face while he received the news.

“Thank you.” he said before hanging up, he turned to you and not long, you were in his arms as he spun you around with that gleeful look on his face. You can’t help but laugh as you look at his face screaming the words… “I’m going to be a father!”

You thought you didn't want any of this but just looking how happy your husband is, makes you excited. The horrified feeling was still there but it was immersed in this euphoric feeling, “Put me down, Ran!”

You never know you wanted it until it was handed to you.

There’s a life growing inside of you. It’s scary, it really is, but you can do it with your loving husband beside you.

“I love you.” he said as soon as he put you down, kissing your forehead before squatting down to your belly, “...and I love you too, little one.”

Maybe I can do this. We can do this, right, Ran?

...

“Stop.” you whispered, trying to extricate yourself out of his arms, “Just stop, Ran. Let me go.”

“I don't want to.” he whispered, the crack in his voice didn't escape you—you felt like the strings inside your fragile heart were snapping one by one.

“Let me go.” you emphasized every word, you were just desperate to get out of there because you don't know if you can take it any longer. You wanted him to let go of you but the moment he did, it felt like your world crumbled. Yet, you turned to him with an indifferent look in your face, “Don’t do this ever again. We’re done.”

You both walked towards the conference room with a heavy heart, you never looked back at Ran who’s just staring at you longingly—you both entered the room and all the executives were there except for the two of you.

“You sure took your time-”

“Not now, Haruchiyo.” you said once you sat beside him, he just shrugged his shoulders.

The executives turned to Mikey once he cleared his throat and simply placed a photograph on the table.

“Kaoru Nomura.” he started, “You know him, right?”

Know him? He’s the leader of the second biggest crime organization in the country. Just simply saying that you know him would be an understatement, just how many times did Bonten have a problem with this guy?

Too many to even count. “We’ll take him down. Saturday night at Daiki’s party.”

“Are you serious?” Kakucho asked, “By taking him down, you mean kill him?”

Mikey hummed, leaning on his chair as he looked at Kakucho with his dull eyes, “That’s what I said.”

Manjiro didn't need to say any reason. Once he ordered, you would comply—most especially Sanzu. You just know this job would be a big one, all of you would be there.

When did all of you do a job this big? You exactly know when, two years ago. This is definitely a big job, Nomura’s group is almost as big as Bonten’s. He has executives just like yours, it would be impossible if his executives wouldn't do shit about it.

You were staring at Mikey the whole time he was explaining but your mind on the man who's staring at you right at this moment.

Ran can’t even take his eyes off you, not minding that his leader was instructing important details about this job. He just can't leave you at that, he wanted to do everything to take you back but how?

When you’re so set on not talking to him. You can act all that but it wouldn't faze him, you're the only woman he ever loved. Hell, he might even die in this job and he can't let that happen without fixing things with you.

He’ll only die with you in his arms, his life would only end with you growing old together and shits you both said before.

He will get you back. No matter what it takes. Even if he had to fall down on his knees, even if had to go to the ends of earth just to be with you. Because you know what makes him lose himself? It’s without you by his side.

[ohsnapcracklepopfriends]

To be named GGMU fic: Part two - A Derby to be Forgotten

Here it is my dear friends. This fic still feels blasphemous to write but I'm doing it anyway. I'm getting on a plane in four hours and I'm scared out of my mind but I finished this part so everything's fine! Here's part one if you haven't read it!

Jamie slammed his phone down on the table of the bar as he collapsed into the booth opposite his oldest friend. He let his head drop and it slammed, with more force than Jamie expected, into the table. Fuck. It had been such a long day. Jamie couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head up out of the indent he was sure his skull made on the table. He felt a bony finger jab the sore muscles of his shoulder.

“Jamie,” another jab, “Jamie, mate. You alright?” Jamie groaned and lifted his head slightly to peek at Stevie. Jamie didn’t know why Stevie would even ask him that question when he so clearly knew the answer. When Jamie saw the dazed, twitchy, beer-soaked look in his eyes, he found his explanation.

“Course I’m not fucking alright. Everything sucks. I hate football. I hate United. I hate Manchester. I hate television--” Jamie felt drunk and he’d only had one, two, three--oh, definitely too many pints. Jamie couldn’t blame himself for the nightmarish morning he would surely have. No, he was driven to drink. For starters, there were few things Jamie liked less than losing. When you retire, watching your team lose gets so much worse, because that’s all you can do: watch. There’s nothing you can do to turn things around, to steer things in the right direction; you have to watch as the team you love more than the air you breathe goes down in flames. Looking over at Stevie, Jamie thought he too was having trouble adjusting to his new role: that of a fan, not a player.

To make matters worse, it was the Northwest Derby. Jamie hated Northwest Derbies: he hated them to the very core of his being. Sure there’s a thrill to it: the chance to beat your bitter rivals is inviting, but it never seemed to work out that way for Jamie. It certainly didn’t pan out that way in his playing days that often. Northwest Derbies were a reminder of broken ribs, harsh words, own goals, and most of all the bitter sting of defeat. And despite all of that, he would’ve chosen to be a player losing again over a day like this one.

Jamie was in an unfortunate situation. He found himself somehow entirely smitten with his obnoxiously unprofessional, Mancunian, united-till-I-die co-pundit. Gary had apparently thought it was a great idea to do victory laps around the studio right before they went on air. When they went live Gary was sat across from him at the table, a smug smirk on his face and panting slightly. Jamie tried not to think about that night, that first night that Gary had burst into his hotel room, but ultimately failed. He could almost feel Gary’s hot breath whispering across his nose and cheeks as they embraced. He could almost taste the sweet, artificial fruit of Gary’s mouth when he pulled Jamie into a closet for a pre-match snog: it was a great way to release some energy. Jamie spent the rest of the show stumbling along as he tried to get the image of Gary flustered, panting, and thoroughly kissed out of his brain.

On top of all of that catastrophe, Gary managed to make things worse in the dressing room after. He practically floated into the room, something Jamie would have found attractive if he hadn’t known the context. If Jamie was honest with himself he found it attractive even in context but in the way that made Jamie want to pull his hair and push him to his knees rather than wrap him in his arms and kiss him. He hummed softly across the dressing room as he unbuttoned his shirt, doing Jamie’s job for him.

“Glory Glory Man United,” Gary sang just once to make sure Jamie knew before he went back to humming. Not that it would have been easy to ignore otherwise. He looked over at Gary expecting to see him searching for Jamie’s reaction: Jamie wanted to show his neutral face, to let Gary know he couldn’t be manipulated. Except that he could, so, so easily. Gary was looking at him for a reaction as expected. Jamie did not expect Gary to be wearing an old United shirt, Neville proudly written on the back. Yet another reminder to Jamie that the man he had not chosen but had come anyway to love (yes he said it, Gary might have been in denial but Jamie Carragher was not an idiot or a coward) was so different from himself in the ways that matter both the most and the least.

“What’d Neville do this time, mate?” Even Drunk Stevie seemed to know how smitten Jamie was and Drunk Stevie was an idiot. Jamie had videos on his phone to categorically prove that. Jamie loved one in particular of Drunk Stevie trying to strip off his shirt, instead getting the fabric stuck around his head and laughing so hard he fell into a lamp post. But that's another story. Jamie took another sip from his beer. Given the amount of beer left in his pint, it seemed that he’d taken a lot of sips while lost in thought.

“He won’t stop singing that fucking song, Stevie. It makes me want to throw him off a bridge every time.” Stevie nodded solemnly. Jamie appreciated Stevie’s humouring him and decided to continue. It wasn’t like he had many other outlets he could rant to about his infuriating, Mancunian coworker. “He’s such a stubborn idiot, Stevie. I mean, God, he’s so dense. We fucking fuck every other fucking day and every time he fucking comes up with some fucking shit excuse and fucking runs out like a fucking coward. He’s fucking stubborn that’s what he is. He’s so stubborn. It’s against his fucking principle or something to hang out with a fucking scouser. Mate! He wouldn’t eat the fucking cereal, Stevie! I bought fucking Weetabix--Weetabix! I bought it just for him and he doesn’t have the fucking decency to fucking stick around to fucking eat it!” Jamie gasped for breath as he finished his sentences and chased his breath with a large gulp of beer. Stevie grabbed his hand and pulled the pint out of his now loose fingers.

“Think we should call it a night, eh, Carra?” Stevie went to get up and slid down into the booth further. “I think I’ll call Alex.” Jamie grunted. Even in his swirly, tired mind, it seemed like a good idea. Jamie melted down onto the table and for the second time on the night, his cheek was smushed against the cold wood.

“I just love ‘im, Stevie. I don’t want to. I just do. I love him sooooooo much,” Jamie was really slurring by now. Jamie’s head was spinning and there was a dull throbbing pain in the centre of his skull. They definitely needed to call it a night. Preferably an hour ago, maybe longer.

The next thing Jamie knew he was in the back of a car with his head resting in Stevie’s lap. Stevie looked down at him and ran his fingers through Jamie’s short hair comfortingly. Jamie thought Stevie’s breath didn’t smell nearly as good as Gary’s did.

“I just love ‘im,” Jamie murmured once again. He didn’t even mean to this time; the words just came out. When they left his mouth the words blended together into one mush of a word but Stevie still seemed to understand him. Stevie always understood him.

“I know, mate,” Stevie said, softly, “it’s okay.” And as long as Stevie said so, it was.

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hello! We have a question and was hoping you could possibly answer! If you can't, however, that's perfectly fine!

Im a co-host in our system, so Im generally always around and watching things alongside our main host in the outerworld and in the innerworld, so I get a lot of the drama, haha! But recently, one of our introjects in the system has been super close with our host lately. Which is entirely valid! We all adore our host and have pretty close relations with her, but what Im trying to say is it's almost like--he IS her / is inside her, in a way? It's a bit hard to explain-- basically, when I "tune in" / see our host in the innerworld, it's almost like that introject is looking back at me instead? Even though it is her? Now, the introject is also seen by himself too, or he'll actually be with our host, but most of the time if he isn't around ( or so I thought ), it's like I'll see him in our host.

I do know our host kins this introject, so I figured it was just her general vibe, but the way the introject acts around her is making me believe that it's more than that? I've recently started guessing it might be a subsystem thing? But we don't know much about subsystems, so we don't know if alters within a subsystem can front and control the main body or anything like that, haha-

I really hope this makes sense! We'll appreciate any help/info we can get. /gen

Hello. To my knowledge, a subsystem is something like a system within a system. Our subsystem comprises of an alter who has an alter of his own, and I believe other subsystems experience this similarly.

It certainly is possible for a member of a subsystem to front and control the body. A subsystem’s members are headmates just like the other members of a system. Of course, not all headmates in all subsystems will be able to front, as every system is unique. But for many, individual headmates in a subsystem absolutely can front and interact with the world.

While we do know that subsystems can and do occur in many kinds of plurality, we’re struggling to find many useful resources on them. I’m linking a blog article by the Patchwork Collective which may have more information that may be useful for you:

One more thing - in our system, when cofronting, we tend to temporarily blend, merge, or fuse together. This only happens to us in the fronting space, however, I wouldn’t be surprised if other systems experience temporary fusion within the headspace. If not a subsystem, perhaps this might explain what’s happening?

My apologies for basically playing a guessing game here. We wish you and these members the best in learning more about who they are.

🖋 Cecil and 💫 Parker

[agent-ccarter]

same room | sirius black

Summary: After you and Sirius break up, your friends keep you apart to stop arguments. (START OF SERIES)

Warnings: Angst!!!, Swearing maybe, blaspheming, cigarettes.

Pairing:  (I tried to make it a gender neutral reader!!) Y/N x MaraudersEra Girls, Y/N x Sirius 

same room | even if its a lie | please, let me get what I want 

(Can we just imagine Bill with long hair please cos tbh im really sick of using ben barnes as the face claim for Sirius 😂)

*****

When we can't even be in the same room My friends are making sure I don't see you I strategize a path to the bathroom So I don't walk past you

*****

There were days where Hogwarts felt cold and empty, regardless of the season. Where everything seemed bigger and more intimidating, the air was thicker and it was harder to breathe. And, no matter how much you curled up under your sheets, or snuggled up near the fireplace, it was impossible to break free of the unnerving feeling. Today was one of those days. The sun was remarkably bright for early December, and the light dusting of snow on the ground was quickly melted. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s move to the library, it seems like you’ve been on that sofa for days.’ You gave Lily a hard glare in response, shrugging the blanket over you shoulders.

“Stop moping.” Marlene was always a reliable source of hard truths, and today wasn’t an exception. She pulled the blanket from your arms and you moaned, grabbing after it.

“Off we go.”

“Lils, stop it-“ you fought back, struggling in the girls grip to no avail; she was deceptively strong, “Ok, ok I’m coming.”

If it was difficult to function in the common room, then it was almost unbearable outside. The portraits on the walls seemed to gossip almost as much as the other students, and the typically short walk to the library felt like hours away. You were sure you’d come across the boys at one point, as your friends formed a shield around you and started discussing things none of you had even mentioned before. 

“i’m not an idiot.” You broke the silence amongst the girls.

“What did you say?” You knew your statement carried power as Lily even removed her head from the potions book she hadn’t looked up  from for an hour. You’d will the tears from your eyes if there were any there, but you weren’t upset, you were bored. Logically, the breakup of yourself and Sirius would cause a rift in your tight knit group, you knew that, but you’d never expected this.

“I’m sick of it. I know, I know you guys are trying to help but this isn’t normal! Sirius and I have to put aside out differences, we can’t keep going on like the other doesn’t exist. And you can’t either! The boys are your friends too, it isn’t fair.”

“I don’t know, i’m quite enjoying the lack of attention from Potter.” Lily retorted, but the look you shared showed she was just trying to bring some humour. 

“I love you all. I know your’e trying to help. But this is between us two, we need to sort it out.” Marlene didn’t argue; she missed the boys, but especially Sirius, the two were practically inseparable. Lily, as much as she didn’t want to admitted, clearly missed the unwavering attention of James, and most importantly, you missed your friends. You missed the hours of conversation about books with Remus, the teasing from James, Peter’s kind nature. And god did you miss Sirius Black.

“I’m going for a walk.” Standing abruptly from your chair, you pulled your big red jumper over your head and started towards the door. Lily stood up behind you, but you heard Marlene say don’t and the redhead retaking her seat. 

Unsuprisingly, the Scottish winter air had turned even colder as the night, and when you sat, legs dangling over the edge of the astronomy tower you were sure you’d be stuck there till the weather warmed. Your breath was visible in the cold, and it was so eerie quiet you were sure the footsteps behind you would echo all the way across the lake. 

When Sirius sat beside you, a content silence filled the air, and you realised this was the closest you’d been to each other without an argument or sheer awkwardness. He lit a cigarette between his fingers before flashing the box at you, taking one gratefully yourself. Sure, you could set something larger alight for more permanent warmth, but the tiny stick in your hands offered an appreciated reprieve from the cold.

“How are you?” You offered, in an attempt to diminish the silence. Your retort offered a scoff from the dark haired boy, whose face was covered by the huge mop of curly hair. If he’d have lifted his head, you’d be able to see the dark bags under his eyes that mimicked your own, the almost permanently tear stain cheeks and the slightly blood stained lips from his constant biting.

“We haven’t spoken in weeks and our first conversation begins with ‘How are you?’” His voice was more gravelly than usually, and as he spoke it almost sounded like his thought had been left red raw. Your brain almost crafted the word ‘Good’ in your thoughts buy you quickly shook it away. Yes, he’d hurt you, but it hurt you almost equally to hear him in such a bad way. 

“By all means, give it a try, Sirius.”

“I don’t know, you’ve always been better at keeping the conversation going, haven’t you?”

“Jesus,” you sighed under you breath, almost grimacing, “I don’t even know why I bothered, if you're going to be awful i’m just going to go.” You crushed you cigarette against the stone and went to stand, but his large hand rested against your thigh stopping you.

“I’m sorry, i'll stop.” He dropped his own cigarette before rubbing his hands on his face and resuming the slightly more uncomfortable silence. You stood, gripping the metal bars for balance and rested as you stood. 

You sighed heavily also, crossing your arms and resting you chin so you could just see him out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve known you since I was a child, Sirius. And ive known Reg just as long. I can’t,” you stopped to consider how you’d phrase your next statement, “I can’t apologise for something I never did. I’d say sorry if I had a reason to but I dont. It’s none of my business, but he is really struggling. He needs his friends, he needs a real fami-“

“Your right, Y/N. It isn’t any of you business,” He stood now too, towering over you. He seemed almost intimidating in this light, the black of his clothes completely dulling his figure, “he is my brother. Its nothing to do with you.”

“Well you certainly don’t act like it, do you? He’s my family too, your my family Sirius. God knows we’ve been more like family than the real thing. But no, it’s fine, I can see where i’m not wanted.”

Sirius sighed, reaching for the cigarettes that you quickly batted from his hand, “No its not tha-“

“Yes it is, we gave it a go, but it didn’t work. Everyone told us we’d be great but they were wrong, we were miserable then and we are miserable now. We ruined a perfectly good thing and that’s what hurts the most.” Letting out an exasperated sigh, you noticed the sky finally lit part of Sirius’ face, the light casting a glare over his eyes and cheek. You held your hand up and rested lightly on his face. He sunk into your hand like an animal being pet, and your thumb ran gently over his almost translucent skin. The air was still as you both didn’t dare to let out even single breath. 

You pulled it back quickly, linking them both in front of you.

“Can we at least be friends?” The air stilled again as he considered the answer, and if the light wasn’t on his face you were sure you’d have missed the nod of his head. He didn’t offer anything more, didn’t even look at your face. 

“Thanks for the cigarette.”

*****

It don't matter Everyone wants an explanation And I don't know what to say anymore

*****

A/N: The song from this fic is Same Room by JP Saxe. Hope you enjoyed, ill update the next part soon.

[vesperstalksclones]

Whats this? A naughty story about REX??? 😱

(18 +) - be warned!!

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sucking off a Vod. Im not blushing, you're blushing

Uses: cures boredom, loneliness, anxiety, and scratches that "itch"; helpful for all clone lovers, but especially those who are preoccupied (like me) with the idea of going down on one of our gorgeous troopers. 

Ingredients: a bit of deep throating, ample saliva, hair pulling, teasing, and lots of sweet sweet clone rod

A lil sumthin sumthin inspired by the glorious bunch of peeps that admin for and show up at clonesandmoans.

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"On. Your. Knees." Fives postured, hands on his hips, trying his best to look as dignified as possible. 

Jesse burst out laughing and his friend's poor attempt to mimic their commanding officer. Amidst chuckles and heckling from the other clones, you sat chewing on your lip, trying to make sense of Fives' act.

I knew Rex as a stern commander, albeit he was thoughtful of his men. I'd never heard him speak with such a dominant and aggressive tone or issue orders in such a basic way. What was Fives on about?

"I don't get it…" 

Fives and Jesse glance up at the sound of your voice. They had become two of your best pals since coming on as a med tech three months ago. Torrent company was known for getting the job done, even if it meant getting blown up in the process. The result was a patient load in the med bay that often flooded in to the halls. The modest staff couldn't keep up, even with the support of the clone field medics. The call had come in for more hands, and yours had been chosen.

"Mph" Jesse grunted. "Umbara. A shit traitor named Krell. He did us pretty dirty; lost us a lot of brothers."

Fives chimed in "Rex took it pretty hard. He felt responsible as our CO. It was his decision to execute Krell. He said that; commanded him 'On Your Knees'. Now when he's pissed that's our tag line…." Fives ducked his head, glaring up from under his brows and growled out the words low in his throat. 

I swallowed hard. I couldn't deny that I had a thing for these men. They were fit and firm and strong. I had handled so many of these gorgeous tanned bodies since I'd reported to Torrent and It was a guilty hidden pleasure of mine. I was glad to save their lives and stitch up their wounds and soothe their fevers. The fact that they were built like every maiden's fantasy under that armour was a surprising and welcome bonus. 

And then there was the Captain. He always presented with an air of quiet dignity. Even when he professed worry for his injured troops, he always always remaind poised. Many of the other soldiers jumped at the chance to flirt with a young available female. Especially one who's job included removing their clothing and occasionally (if they were lucky) touching their twig and berries if necessary. Some, like Fives, were shameless in their chatter. He'd offered to service me several times. Honestly it didn't bother me, he was so sweet and silly and friendly about it, like an overly large puppy. That's how we became friends, as messed up as it seemed. He had offered to paint my molars. I politely declined and checked around his balls for herniations. Instant besties. 

 Rex had never had to present to me before. Apparently he preferred to report to his medic, Kix, for treatment. No, I had only ever traded injury reports and small talk with the commander. He was always perfectly poised. Focused. Buttoned up.

I wanted to unbutton him.

In the most depraved ways I could imagine. I wanted that decent, respectful man to use me like his play thing and leave my sticky, sweaty, and shaking.

Again… a dry swallow at the thought.

Fives cocked an eyebrow at me. 

"Hey uhh… Jess! Look at this shit!"

Jesse swung around, joining us. "Whats that Vod?"

Fives lowered himself to my eye level. He repeated the low growl, and had the heat rising in my cheeks. 

"You fekking like that don't you ad'ika??" Jesse snickered and ruffled my hair. 

Fives stroked his goatee. "Got a thing for the good Captain, do you Nurse? Well…"

"Kriffing… ugh! Fives stop!" I covered my face not sure if I was embarrassed or relieved that my friends had found me out.

I pushed him out of the way and scrambled up from the lounge chair. "I have to run! My rotation starts in 15! Jesse, Fives, … keep your mouths shut… or I'll order cavity searches on both of you!"

"Don't threaten us with a good time!"

                             ○○○○○○○○○○○○○

A few days had passed and I had all but forgotten the exchange with the boys. I was preforming an inventory in a satellite med station, counting off bandages, checking the use by dates on IV bags… important profoundly boring work. Footsteps echoed in the adjoining exam room, big and heavy. Looking to the door… there stood the captain… clad in his boots and blacks, arms crossed as he studied me.

I straightened and tidied myself. 

"Yes Captain?"

"It's come to my attention…" he thought for a moment, " some of my men think I make you uncomfortable."

Uh….

"I beg pardon? Not at all sir!" I crossed the room, intent on showing him that his presence was not unwelcome. "Whatever gave them that notion?"

"Apparently a discussion of my behavior in the field caused you visible discomfort…"

Fucking Fives. And. Jesse. They would die for this.

"No sir…" I thought back to Fives impression and couldn't help but flush from the thought. The real thing was standing an arms length away from me. And we were very alone. 

I stared into his amber eyes, the square stern set of his face. I imagined his full lips forming the words. Commanding me.To my knees.

The heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks. I couldn't look any longer without embarrassing myself.

"It seems to me ad'ika, that you are not being very truthful." His lilting accent filled my ears and I wished for… rougher.. words to be graced by it.

His thumb and fingers gripped my jaw, his palm pressed against my neck. He lifted my face and leaned close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin.

"It seems.." he continued, his rich velvety baritone came softly "...that you might appreciate it if I were to speak to you in a way that many would consider.…indecent."

I took a shuddering breath, my mouth falling open. With just that simple incantation my body caved entirely to his spell, and I felt tingling heat spread through my belly. 

What was happening??? Was this reality? Was Mr Duties and regulations coming on to me???

"What if I would? What would you do about that?" I whispered, testing the terrain.

"I'd certainly oblige." He replied, running his thumb across my bottom lip, "Anything to make you feel more at home."

"Just doing my job sir."

I was physically shaking with the need to grab hold of him."

"Anything to keep you in peak condition".

Oh God, that was terrible. I didn't dare speak anymore, afraid at how quickly my capacity for structured thought was deteriorating. 

I lept at him, pressing hungry lips to his, getting a tight grip at his shoulders.

Rex palmed my ass and lifted me easily, sitting my down roughly on the exam table all the while fighting for my tongue. He positively devoured me, pulling my chest tight against his, bending me backwards to accommodate his height.

"How do you like to be touched?" He gasped between kisses thrusting a hand under my shirt and spreading it across my navel.

"I'll like anything you do to me. Just use me Rex." It came out like an order more than a request. 

His lips quirked into a sly grin. He pulled my shirt over my head and quickly hooked my sports bra with his thumbs, dragging it up my arms. I expected it to be flung away as well, but at my elbows he made a deft twist of his wrist, and the garment tightened like a snare. One big hand pulled my arms backward, arching my torso so that my breasts stood up like lonely mountains before my chin. His opposite hand pressed to my rib cage, and crept around smoothly examining my flesh. He traced the bottoms of my breasts, then slowly closed over one as he watched my face. My jaw had dropped lower with each inch over movement and when his calloused thumb and forefinger teased my nipple to a harder pebble I loosed a groan. It was wanton and desperate and I knew he liked it because his smile showed his perfect teeth, right before they descended to the other breast. 

I couldn't help it but my eyes rolled back in my head. The feeling of his lips nibbling my bud, his teeth pinching, and his rough tongue teasing, combined with the opposite hand massaging was enough to put me out of my mind entirely. 

I uttered a deep moan as the heat of my lust spread through my veins. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my thighs shook a little with anticipation. 

"Do you like being at my mercy?" He whispered against my soft skin, the hand at my elbows tightened my "bonds" with a small adjustment of his finger. "I could do whatever I want to you… and you'd have to just watch."

 My eyes widened and I could feel my pupils dilate. I was eager to watch. 

His hand slid down my hip, then thrust underneath me and gripped the waist of my breeches. He hauled them down my thighs, then ducked and hooked my knees over his shoulder. 

"What if you aren't ready for me?" He whispered, his voice rough and gritty with arousal. He slid his free hand along the backs of my bare legs to where they met, tracing a finger along the fold of my sex.

I swallowed dryly, silently begging him to find out for himself. 

He slipped two large fingers within me, exploring the spaces near my opening, then upward to gently stroke at my clit. The action pushed a desperate whimper past my lips, and I tilted backwards, reveling in his touch. 

"No ma'am!" He chided, slapping me gently on the base of my rump. "You damn well better be paying attention, I don't appreciate being ignored."

He scowled, stepping away from my legs and hauling me roughly to my feet. 

"Generally, when I catch a trooper drifting off I have to make an example."

I trembled at the thought of his "punishment". 

He jerked at the twisted cloth that still held my arms, the other hand plastering me against him, his member pushing hard against my navel. 

"Drop."

I stared at him defiantly. His eyes glared down into mine. Danger and raw power pooling in their depths

"On. Your. Knees." 

I was defeated with little resistance. The command dripped with his dominance, and my weakness to it made itself known by conveniently running down my thigh.

"Yes sir," I rasped quietly. My mouth suddenly not dry anymore. He fucking new what I wanted. 

He loosened his grip on my arms, allowing the garment to slide free as I lowered myself before him. I clasped his thick thighs and guided him to turn and lean against the exam table. I pulled up the top of his black body glove, tracing my tongue over his abs. 

"Take it off," i whispered, "I want to look at you."

 The captain obeyed, rolling his bare shoulders and flexing his physique for my benefit and the view was splendid! My hand roamed with my eyes, up his rippling torso as high as I could reach and back down again, tracing the bronzed curves and inspecting a few ragged scars. He was a man built to be physical, compact muscle and sinew, wrapped in bronzed silk. My hands found the arch of his hips and hooked the waistband of his skin tight pants. Pulling them down slowly my eyes greedily devoured the V-shaped muscles that pointed the way to my "punishment". He was already sporting a raging erection, and I was forced to unhook him from the elastic before I could peel it away further down his thighs.

 His member arched upward before his belly, and without having touched him yet, I was already pretty confident that one of my hands couldn't close around him fully. By nature he was much darker than the rest of his skin, and his darker scrotum was drawn tightly, ready for work. 

He tapped me on the forehead with the spongy head. "Hey!" I giggled, pushing him away. 

"You're getting distracted down there! Get to it."

I cocked my head to the side, quirking an eyebrow up at him, keeping my eyes on his as I ran my tongue along his shaft, teasing at the vein underneath. He kept his face flat and stern, lips still pulled down in a scowl. 

Still watching, I repeated the long lick, but this time closed my lips over his head, tracing circles within my mouth. He twitched,  rolling his neck a bit, fighting to remain the dignified officer. 

I allowed my saliva to gather in my mouth, promising him mentally that I was going to put that military rank right in its grave. Perhaps he didn't know that caf was only my second favorite thing to put in my mouth. His punishment was my forte.

My lips crept slowly down his shaft, my tongue spreading saliva the entire way, preparing him for my attentions. I stopped about half way, and repeated the motion a few times. Sucking lightly with each retreat. He fidgeted with his jaw a few times. My hands circled his hips and gripped his hard ass, pulling his pelvis forward, while he remained leaning against the table. Watching intently, I descended along his cock again, my eyes holding his as innocently as I could manage. His own widened the deeper I took him, his lips finally dropping open with a gasp as he slid in to my throat and my lips pressed to his bronze skin. I swallowed against him, my tongue flitting about and drew away, savoring the deep groan that I was pulling out of him.

Gotcha captain.

I quickened my pace, not taking him as deeply, but sucking with force each time, my fingers clamped around his hips, arched into claws. Holding him prisoner. 

I would break away periodically, running my lips along the sides of his shaft, allowing his arousal to calm a little - no sense in hurrying him along. I wanted to savor this beautiful man.

His hand groped for my head, gently fisting my hair, the other finding my upper arm, kneeding and stroking as he drown in my touch. 

"Ah.. ah...ah'd...ddd..ikka".. he stuttered through his passion, when I took him again in my mouth. "Can you go harder??... GAH!"

He threw himself back as I scrubbed over his head with my tongue, toying with the small opening there. "I love your touch, Dala, its so good! I want to move but I'm afraid I'll hurt you!"

I surged forward down his cock, tearing another moan from his throat. Pulling away with a wet slurp, I met his gaze.

 "Well, do it then, sir. Aren't you the one punishing me?" I asked, stroking him firmly in my fist. 

He grinned, combing back a few escaped locks of my hair and closing his fingers through them firmly. Sliding my closed hand to the base of his member, I chased it with my mouth, tensing my neck and shoulders, the other hand traveling along his thigh to stroke between his legs, caressing the tightened globes there.

I repeated the motion again and again, varying in force and intensity, as the Captain's breath grew more ragged. Pushing him well past his limits, he began thrusting back in to my face, struggling to temper himself and not knock me senseless. The fist holding my hair would occassionally forget itself, hauling me away or forcing me forward when the pleasure got the better of him. I moved with him, savoring the taste of his skin, the salty warmth of the pre-cum that I was pulling out of him, the thrill of pleasuring this man with my mouth and hands. I had been hungry for him. Positively ravenous. And devour him I did. 

His moans were becoming louder and more frequent, with gasped praises and prayers flung from his lips at odd intervals. 

I sucked harder and moved faster, fighting my way towards his release. 

"Ngh!! Ad'ika! I'm close!" He cried. I met his eyes. "I want to… aagh!" he shuddered, loosing his train of thought momentarily. "I want to cum on your face!!!"

I couldn't very well nod, but unstead answered by putting my best effort in to the grand finale, tongue and mouth and hand working in unison to push him over the edge. 

His lashes fluttered shut, his head dropping backwards, Rex thrust against my mouth, a noise building in his chest. He repeated the motion with me. Again. On the fourth roll of his hips a shout tore from his throat, and I felt his hot seed pour over my tongue. I pulled away, allowing thick ropes of his cum to land on my cheeks and lips, down my neck and chest. 

I stroked his hips and thighs as he leaned back on his elbows, his climax rolling through him still. Sitting back on my heels, I simply enjoyed the sight, watching him in the afterglow of his release. He was still trembling, with the occasional violent shudder, breathing raggedly, his shaking hands kneeding at my wrists.

Eventually he lifted his head, fixing me with a bright eyed grin that made my insides positively twist. 

"Damn woman, that was intense!" He gasped, pulling me to my feet. He admired his handiwork on my chest. Then, with an impish grin, he signed off near my collar bone with his index finger, satisfied I had been properly chastized. 

"You ass!" I squealed dodging away. 

Laughing, he grabbed me and pulled me over to the sink. We quickly cleaned up together, and he pulled my breeches away along with socks and clogs. Snaking an arm around my waist, he dipped the other hand between my thighs, which was in quite a state: stimulation to my mouth tended to make me a hot mess. 

"Stars! Where is all of this coming from?" He nibbled at my lips, tasting himself in the process. 

"I guess its my punishment for not paying attention", I cooed saucily. "I suppose I'll have to tend to that elsewhere."

"Perish the thought, Sugar." He fisted himself, working his member as he kissed me again. "Give me a moment and I'll be in top form…" his voice dropped into the low growl that rattled my insides, " then we can continue with your…. Reprimand .."

He scooped me up, and dropped me unceremoniously back on to the table, pushing his already firm cock against my opening. 

"Your recovery time Rex, my God!" I gaped in wonder. He guided his member to my opening and sunk into me slowly, smiling at my low groan. 

"I've told your superior I need you to help me purge old injury reports. Should take the entire rest of the day..." He exhaled slowly, enjoying the delicious friction where we were joined. "... and I've a laundry list of poor behavior that needs to be "disciplined" out of you"

[amazingorangedangantrash]

The only ending everyone seems to ignore is v3 because it’s just... it’s just a mess.

How do feel about this game survivors? And do you think that everyone woke up from the simulator or tv show like sdr2 or only the survivors?

Hoo boy...

Honestly nonny, having only finished the dang thing yesterday I... don't know.

(I kinda went off into a spiel, so feel free to skip to the part where I talk about survivors and what I think happens next)

I understand the mixed response a LOT. I mean- I see what they were going for. The 4th wall break was cool, and the (sorta?) reappearance of past characters was pretty damn awesome. I like that the creators are definitely self aware- and there's a kind of 'learn to laugh at yourself' sort of thing.

On the other hand it can almost seem a little too mocking?

I get the whole yaknow. 'Fictional characters are aware they're fictional and rebel against their creators' thing but- like-?

As I mentioned before, thing is, Tsumugi is not us? We aren't exactly intentionally cruel? There's a BIG difference between the kind of fiction in our world and in their world.

What does Tsumugi call it? "Real fiction"?. Yeah- thing is- we don't have that. We don't have the technology for it, and I certainly hope we wouldn't abandon ethics for it either!!! We can't have 'real' fiction, because in our world, all fiction is fake! The closest you have is fiction about real people, perhaps, but- that's not even remotely the same thing?

So it does come across as a little... um- preachy.

We're supposed to represent the audience but... like- the audience fucking suck! What was that they said during the argument armament? "This guy should have died instead of Kaede!" Like- fucking hell. Imagine saying that to someone, who can HEAR you say it, and who's MURDER you could potentially watch unfold before your very eyes as a result of YOUR actions. I mean- look how empathetic some of us are to ACTUAL fictional characters. Could you imagine if we were in a similar situation to the outside world in V3???

Maybe it's because I keep imagining the v3 cast as like- sentient AI, instead of "just fiction". Because I can't imagine anyone being so sadistic or apathetic otherwise.

So uh- yeah. I don't... know how I feel about that. It's not- very satisfying?

With sdr2, the whole "none of this is real, the killing game is all a lie, you're in a fake world!" felt like a relief ! Whereas here it's more like- "what?? It's all fake? What the hell was the point then?!"

"Nothing matters!" vs "nothing matters..."

The whole HOPE VS DESPAIR, FUTURE VS PAST thing worked, because, well, it's something we can all understand. We have all felt hope and we have all felt despair. We've all, at some point in our lives, felt stuck in the past, unable to or scared to move on.

(Hey- some of us still feel like that now, even).

The first game was very simple- hope and despair. Still relatable, but fairly basic- effective to set up the foundation for the follow up.

The second game made things a little more complicated. Sometimes it's more complicated then just- choosing between Hope and Despair. We refuse to fall into Despair, but we can't just blindly have Hope.

So we choose the Future. We can't promise it'll be a good one OR a bad one. But whatever happens- we need to move on. The only way we can make things change is by making that choice, to create our OWN future.

V3 felt very... complex. It started to get kind of... uh... philosophical? And- don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with that. It just... it kind of shifted from TRUTH VS LIE to FICTION VS REALITY. And whilst the latter definitely sounds interesting- I don't really know if I liked the direction they took with it-? I wish they'd kept the focus on TRUTH VS LIE a lot more.

(Fiction and Reality are like extensions of Lie and Truth but- only to a certain extent? Really?)

It's kind of harder to get into the final fight in V3 because... what are you fighting? The outside world? I mean- I can't speak for the rest of you, but as far as I'm aware I'm not a fictional character.

(If I am- then wow someone's a reallly bad writer huh?)

I can relate to Hope. I can relate to Future.

I can't relate to Fiction.

I THOUGHT maybe the message was a warning of the dangers of escapism ('please dont go as far as to erase your own personality just to be a part of a type of fiction you like' definitely seems fitting for this fandom)- but the message "fiction has the power to change the world!" kinda contradicts that. I mean- I do like that message, but- I don't like the idea of a series about killing games being heavily influential-!

The whole problem was that people grew so obsessed with the series that they threw away their lives! Is that not the point you should be focusing on-!!!!

The outside world in this universe fucking sucks. So they changed their mind, big DEAL! that's not comforting knowing they let this shit continue for 53 seasons-! I mean, maybe Makoto and Hajime were all 100% fictional, but at some point they started putting real people into these games, and everyone was ok with that!

I just-

I'm glad Shuichi got through to them at last but...

Someone said something which resonated with me- "in a vacuum, this is good". Like... on it's own, I thought the ending was great! It was entertaining, for sure. And the whole concept and stuff was unexpected and interesting. You gotta give em points for originality.

The problem comes with it being the 3rd game in a series. (Ignoring UDG I mean-). When a series becomes a Trilogy, you gotta make it good. This is presumably the last game in the (main) series too. And- after the UTTER NARRATIVE DISAPPOINTMENT of dr3- can you blame people for wanting more? People fell in love for THH and SDR2 (and UDG even if its not part of the main series) for a reason- and, for me at least, a biiiig part of that reason was the continued storyline. The last chapter of sdr2 was the hypest shit EVER. when you see glimpses of the previous game bleed into this one, only for it to turn into what's like- a full crossover???? The previous game isn't just mentioned, it's a straight up sequel!!!! I had absolutely no idea Makoto and co would return (i thought the games were separate) so when i saw that they'd be interacting with the new cast- yoooooooooooooooo-!

Hell, even seeing alter ego again made me go WILD.

V3 plays upon these expectations, and subverts them, but... not necessarily in a good way? You- kind of feel cheated? (Idk if you're an avengers fan, but- it's like expecting *Endgame* and instead getting...

Well- Endgame).

The ending isn't bad persay it's just- not quite what one would expect? I can definitely understand why people are disappointed. The problem is, instead of standing alone, you can't help but consider it as part of the series. Individually, I don't think the ending was that weak or bad, but in comparison to the series as a whole?

Meh.

SURVIVORS

(Oh my- I really got off track, oh dear. I'll- get back to what you asked now.)

KEEBO

W H Y

They rllly gonna rub salt in the wound huh?

(Whilst i dont dislike the other survivors, there are a LOT of people i really really wanted to see make it to the end, and it's just the final god damn nail in the coffin to kill off the last of the few characters I came even close to liking the most-)

Killing keebo was dumb

Maki- I liked Maki quite a bit! She's a bit cold, yeah, but I warmed up to her after hearing her backstory.

I found it annoying (if understandable) that no one trusted her at first. I thought it was sweet that her, Kaito and Shuichi had this friendship trio. They really trusted each other- it was very refreshing. I also love me a strong girl. Her romance thing with Kaito was a little... forced. I'd have found it more meaningful if they kept it more subtle/ambiguous (though i suppose they needed smth to use against her in the final trial sooo-).

Himiko-

I-

*sigh*

Ok I'm going to say this once, and once only.

Someoneonthedrteamhasabigthingforlolis

OK! I SAID IT- AND IM NEVER SAYING IT AGAIN

No judgement here of course. Just. Uh. Y-yeah-

(I'm mainly kidding of course, idek if Himiko counts as a loli but-)

I mean... I'm not... the fondest of very small, childish girl characters (Saionji intensifies). I like a bit of childishness in a character but- i mean- it depends.

(I'll never recover from the "seductive whisper" thing from the love suite event

Never.

Never ever.)

Himiko comes across as like An Actual Child at times and at the start it was VERY annoying. Surprisingly, I warmed up to her eventually. I knew in advance she'd be a survivor so i kinda thought "well she's gonna stick around so might as well try to like her". I do appreciate that she underwent a character arc too, and it was sweet to see how she became a more active, determined person. I wish it hadn't taken Tenko's death for her to finally start changing but whatever. She is quite a cute character and after a while became more endearing then annoying.... (for the most part).

Was she in my top 3 picks for a survivor? No.

The top 10 even?

N-no-

I'm glad she's still alive though. SOMEONE damn well needs to be.

Tsumugi- ah. She's not a survivor, is she? I knew well in advance she was the mastermind so I didn't really warm up to her all that much during the final chapters, for obvious reasons.

Shuichi- if shuichi hadn't survived I think that would have been the breaking point for me, honestly.

Overall- uh... they aren't... the ideal picks. Shuichi is the only one I really wanted to see survive, I was neutral towards the others. Tbh I was just happy anyone was alive by the end of that.

Waking up- for the sake of my sanity, I like to think that after the survivors wake up, they threaten to sue and/or maim the shit out of the dr team if they don't start on reanimating their 'dead' friends right fucking now. Surely they gotta keep their consciousness' somewhere in those memories banks right? I mean- what if they ever wanted a "surprise return from the dead" plotline? Surely they gotta keep em somewhere? Right?

Whether or not they reawaken as their in-game or pre-game selves, who knows. Whichever you prefer, I guess. Maybe a mixture of both.

[spohkh]

GOOD AFTERNOON I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION! Please tell me how Dean and Cas would have been if they were raising baby Jack! Also do you think Claire would have babysat for her little brother sometimes if their dads were on a hunt?

HELLO SARAH thank u for this ask that was designed to drive me, specifically, ins*ne ❤️

i feel like... okay. oh this is going to be SO rambling i apologize in advance. 

but ok so we KNOW for a fact that dean is a dad like he is just A DAD it is so integral to his being. he's caring and attentive and isn't afraid of the fact that kids can be gross or annoying because he recognizes that they are KIDS and need patience and care. so i feel like at first dean would just take over the bulk of the care for jack bc its just natural for him at this point. (IM THINKING ABOUT HIM BOUNCING THAT BABY IN WHATEVER EP THAT WAS AND ITS MAKING ME WANT TO CRY. HE IS SO GOOD WITH KIDS HES MEANT TO HAVE KIDS HES SO FULL OF LOVE!!!!) and cas ALWAYS looks to dean first when it comes to learning How To Be Human™ so he'd be watching what dean does to emulate him. i imagine theres a lot of "no no no--you need to support his head like THIS", and, "oh that means he's hungry here this is how you should hold the bottle", at the start of their care for him

GOD WASNT DEAN ALSO HUMMING A ZEPPELIN SONG TO THAT BABY HE WAS BOUNCING IN WHATEVER EPISODE THAT WAS (PLEASE SOMEONE DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT EPISODE IM TALKING ABOUT) HRRGHRGRGHGH LED ZEPPELIN LULLABIES BUT BETTER THAN THAT--BETTER THAN DEAN HUMMING HARD ROCK LULLABIES TO BABY JACK--CAS BEING LIKE OH YEAH THATS GREAT AND CASSSSSS HUMMNING HARD ROCK LULLABIIEISSS TO BABY JACKKKKK I AM GOING SUPERSONIC. 

ALSO its important to rmmbr that jack ISNT fully human so there will be things that only cas will be able to take care of. my fuckng god they really are the perfect pair to care for jack oh god im getting emotional. i have no idea what those angel-specific needs would BE.... like god when jack is especially fussy and his unchecked powers start to come out dean is like okie doke time to tap in the angel husband i cannae handle getting laserbeamed by my infant son rn 😌✌🏼 and cas is like honestly id rather deal with jack trying to suplex me into the fuckng wall than change his diaper. quite simply i must admit you humans are kinda nasty at times god bless. but yeah jack would have ALL of his needs addressed thanks to having a human dad and an angel dad which i think is so key!! and is smth that they did kind of have in the show but due to um fukcng EVERYTHING else going on i felt like his human side was kinda neglected and wasnt developed as much as it couldve/shouldve been, which led to, yknow, a lot of dangerous misunderstandings. jack certainly needs and deserves to have his WHOLE self nurtured and recognized.

also wow itd be so nice to have an eldritch interdimensional being who technically doesnt need sleep as your co-parent bc dean can get ALLLLL he blissful sleep he needs while cas takes care of the nighttime baby needs! UGH perfect

AND YES. OF COURSE CLAIRE WOULD BABYSIT JACK. GOD IF EVER THERE WERE A GIRL DESERVING OF A YOUNGER SIBLING. she has older sister syndrome ANYWAY. also shes dean kin so i think itd be REALLY funny if dean is like are you SURE youre okay to take care of him? remember hes a nephilim like he has powers it can be really dangerous when he gets too worked up. actually forget it we'll call rowena or something i dont want you to get hurt. and claire is like dad. for real. just fuck off and go kill the werewolves or whatev i got this. and when they get back from the hunt they come back and jack is like fast asleep beside claire, who is ofc completely fine, and deans like did nothing happen??? claires like WHO do you think youre talking to of course its all fine he was a perfect angel (snicker snicker) because he likes ME. like jack goes down so easy for claire hes just always so calm and happy with her, never fusses, dean is like WHAT gives like not wanting to admit hes a little jealous that jack has never tried to laserbeam HER and shes like what can i say? sibling privilege. we have an understanding :) like father like daughter shes just a natural caregiver. dean is so proud. cas is so proud. they are so happy. oh my god. they love their kids so much. 

in conclusion. dean and cas would be the most loving parents a baby nephilim could hope for. just today MY dad said to me that parents never want their kids to experience the pain that they have experienced themselves. he said that bc i was upset he wouldnt teach me how to change the light fixture in my closet bc there was a live wire and he didnt want me to get shocked like he has in the past BUT THE SAME PRINCIPLE APPLIES where, i feel like ESPECIALLY for dean, they would do their utmost to raise jack (AND claire) with the care that was so lacking from their own childhood experiences. 

dean certainly tried with sam and did a good job, but he was a kid himself then and wasnt fully equipped to provide all the emotional support a child needs. now, as an adult in a supportive, committed relationship, dean will have the chance to REALLY devote himself in the way he was always meant to. 

and cas...well... whats more human than caring for your child? everyday his love deepens--his love for dean, his love for their little house, his love for the honeybees and the clouds in the sky. all things he was never meant to have any feelings for, he just loves and loves and loves more because of the little life he has with dean and claire and now his little baby. everyday he becomes more himself because of his love for his family, and he pours all of that back into them. he is just so adoring. he listens to every sound jack makes with keen attention, committing every nonsensical syllable to memory, because its all important. he wants to make sure jack knows how loved he is and how recognized he is and how appreciated he is, just for existing. he wants jack to feel seen and known, in the ways he never was by his own father.

the way dean and cas are with baby jack is that they try. fundamentally thats what its all about. just trying. because u love so much. thank u

[tim-stonker]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, mentioned Georgie Barker/Melanie King Characters: Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Elias Bouchard, Melanie King, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, mentioned Basira Hussain, im sorry queen it was a 5+1 and u were number 6 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, more like AU elias isnt a bitch, 5 Times, Mutual Pining, implied Nonbinar Jonathan Sims, he's gnc, Getting Together, Comfort No Hurt, bc we need that, Just Pals Being Soft, dimples as a plot point Summary:

5 times people didn't see jon's smile plus the 1 time someone did

i wrote some gay shit about jon smiling and it became this. whole thing is under the cut, check it out on ao3 if u wanna !

-5

Jonathan Sims was an unexpected candidate for the position of Archivist, following Gertrude Robinson’s rather abrupt retirement (Elias still wasn’t sure if she was actually telling the truth when she said she wanted to spend more time travelling with her grandson. He didn’t even know if she actually had a grandson.) When word got out that there was an opening for head archivist, it surprised both Elias and Jon’s manager when he put his application into the pool. While Jon wasn’t the highest position in Research, he wasn’t at the lowest tier either, and everyone knew that being Head Archivist was much like being the mayor of a ghost town. Sure, you had a fancy title, but not much else. The Archives were in the basement, they were cold and dusty, and typically, if a budget needed to be cut, it was the Archives that took the brunt of the slashes. But, Jon was organized, faked his confidence well enough, was willing to put in the work, and, if Elias was being honest with himself, there wasn’t exactly a queue out the door to take over the vacancy that Gertrude left. 

The interview went well enough, though Jon was clearly filled with nervous excitement. He kept reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear - it was too short to stay in place, but much too long to not be a bother. His voice almost echoed in Elias’ office, strong and precise, even when he struggled with some questions that Elias asked about his strengths and weaknesses. Elias appreciated the way that Jon carried himself, the slight aura of grandeur and pride that he seemed to give off, contrasting starkly with his awkward attempts at being personable. 

Though Elias told Jon that he’ll be in touch within a few days to inform him whether or not he’ll be transferred to the Archives, he’s already certain that there’s no better candidate, and, if nothing else, he loathes having new hires from outside the Institute. He can overlook a few missing qualifications if it means he can cut down on the number of interviews he has to conduct. 

Elias waited a few more days, finished up more interviews, and found his suspicions were correct. Jon - despite the roughness around his edges, and his lack of a library sciences degree (an aspect that makes Rosie raise her eyebrows at Elias when he mentions it) - is the best fit for the archives that Elias has. He calls Jon into his office again, watching as Jon delicately maneuvers into the chair on the other side of Elias’s desk, fingers picking at the sleeves of his cardigan.

“I’m happy to tell you, Jonathan, that after much consideration, that you have been promoted to Head Archivist. Your transfer from the Research department will be put through promptly, and - unless you have any objections - you can begin your new role as soon as next Monday. Congratulations.”

As Elias spoke, he watched as Jon’s eyes widened, eyebrows raise, as the tension melted out of his shoulders. The corners of his lips seemed to flicker, wanting to curl upwards, but not quite able to.

“I, oh, wow. Thank you, Elias. I, uh, I’m really excited to be working in the Archives.” Jon stammered out. His voice had less of the confident bravado that it had during his interview, and while that would usually make Elias reconsider his choice, the fact that all of Jon’s nervous ticks seemed to have disappeared sated his concern.  

Elias nodded, hummed, and launched into the less fun aspect of promotion, namely discussion of new contracts, pay raises, the fact that Jon would be able to ask some of his co-workers to become his assistants, but any vacancies will be filled at Elias’s discretion. Jon nodded along and asked the appropriate questions at the right time.

Perhaps he’s just bad at expressing emotions, Elias thought, though the thought is both fleeting and insignificant. It gets pushed out of the way, quickly, and is discarded, not to be thought again. 

When the meeting was over, Elias stood up to show Jon to the door. Just before Jon left, Elias stuck his hand out, and once again said, “Congratulations, Jon.”

Jon looked startled for a second, before reaching out and giving Elias a hearty handshake.

“Thank you, Elias, really,” Jon replied. While saying that, the corner of his mouth twitched once again, and for a moment, Jon’s face began to break out into a smile. Eyes excited and bright, before he schooled his expression back into one of vaguely happy neutrality. 

Elias released Jon’s hand, and when his office was once again empty of everyone except himself, he briefly wondered why anyone cares enough about smiling to prevent themselves from doing it.

Like most intrapersonal thoughts, though, Elias waved it away, going back to his own work, just glad that he didn’t have to get Rosie to put up any more job listings on Linkedin. 

-4

Tim was surprised when Jon approached him with the job offer. Sure, he and Jon had worked together for a few years and Jon frequently complimented Tim on his work and whenever Jon actually showed up to work get-togethers, he seemed to awkwardly stick to Tim’s side like glue until the event was done. But Jon always declined Tim’s invites to non-work social gatherings, and sometimes it was hard to tell if the snark in Jon’s voice came from malice or…. Something else. 

Tim had chalked all that up to awkwardness or to Jon’s work ethic, but for some reason, he never thought that Jon actually considered Tim to be a friend, even though he did tentatively think of Jon as one. So it was rather shocking when Jon marched up to him, a small stack of papers in his hands at the end of the workday, and announced, 

“I’ve been promoted to Head Archivist.”

“Oh, well, congrats, Jon,” Tim said, smiling. He clapped Jon on the shoulder. “Yeah, I heard you put your application in.” Tim didn’t mention that he heard because some of their co-workers were making jokes about hoping to see the last of Jon, with his insane work ethic and snappish remarks. 

Jon nodded. “I’m also allowed to pick my own assistants since many of Gertrude’s have quit or been reassigned since her absence.”

“That’s cool.”

“I was wondering if you would like to join me in the Archives, Tim.”

“Oh,” Tim said, eyes widening. Jon looked straight at him, unflinching, though his hands were curled into tight balls at his sides. This was certainly unexpected. 

“I think we work well together. You do really good work, and while I’m not exactly sure what… extra work transferring to the archives will entail, I’m that your presence will be beneficial.” Finally, Jon broke Tim’s gaze. “Also, I… quite enjoy your company.”

“Wow, well, thank you, Jon,” Tim managed to stammer out. He looked at Jon’s now sheepish expression and how his cheeks had taken on a slightly red tinge from the honesty. “Uh, can I… think about it? For a few days? It’s just… kind of a big change.”

“Oh, of course, Tim,” Jon nodded earnestly, passing Tim the stack of papers, which Tim now saw as a would-be employment contract, with different sections highlighted, presumably the parts that Jon thought Tim would find important. Jon made like he was about to turn to leave before he paused and said, “Also I. I won’t be offended if you decide to stay put.”

“Oh, I know,” Tim said, even though he wasn’t sure why he knew. Jon nodded again.

“Well, see you tomorrow.” And with that and a brief wave, Jon walked away, leaving Tim to stare at the employment papers and to think about what to do. And Tim did consider it. He had a pretty good thing going on in the Research department. He was well-liked, and many of his managers said that he could probably get promoted to a higher position with a better salary in a few years, and though the entry position of archival assistant was better paying than his current gig, Tim knew he was never going to get promoted from that role. 

Tim had friends in Research, but he also had friends in artifacts, and finance, and HR. The more he thought about it, it wasn’t like his work-social life would end if he went to the basement. And, as much as his co-workers liked to poke fun at Jon, Tim did genuinely enjoy his company. He liked his wit, and snark, and the way he tried to play off his awkwardness and usually failed. And despite his somewhat clumsy attempts at socializing, anytime Tim talked about his life outside of work, Jon listened, made jokes, and was friendly. 

Jon was also quite easy on the eyes, in his own strange way. 

Tim found it wasn’t really much of a hard decision after all. So when he walked into work the next day and tossed the signed contract on Jon’s desk, all he said was, “It better not be as dusty as everyone says it is.” 

Before walking off to his own desk to finish up his own projects, for a moment he thought he saw Jon duck his head to smile. But when he looked back, Jon was just holding the contract, and though his eyes were happy, his face was straight. 

-3

Sasha enjoyed her work as an archival assistant, despite all the dust, and Jon’s moodiness, and the strange errands that the statements sent everyone on. It was an unorthodox job, cleaning up the decades of bizarre filing that Gertrude left, hunting down follow-ups from people who were clearly drunk, sick, or delirious at the time that these ‘occurrences’, well, occurred. 

She certainly enjoyed her co-workers, basement dwellers that they were. While archives and research had many employees and had been on floors where different departments mingled, the four of them - Tim, Sasha, Martin, and Jon - were stuck down in the cool basement, surrounded by files, and books, and old foundation. While she had been on amicable terms with Tim before, the forced proximity brought them much closer, and she was happy to meet and befriend Martin. Pretty quickly the three of them began to go out for drinks after work, plan dinners, and movie nights, and get-togethers on weekends. They sometimes invited Jon, but the answer was also unanimously no.

Still, despite Jon’s rebuffs at having a social life, Sasha always felt like her relationship with him was… different than the others. While Tim and Jon had prior acquaintanceship, Sasha only briefly knew Jon in research; and Jon was either oblivious or blatantly ignoring Martin’s crush on him, rebuffing his attempts of flirting and courtship with harsh words and mumbled, unfocused ‘thank yous’ when Martin brought him tea. 

It surprised her how highly Jon thought of her, and how well they got on. 

“Here’s that statement you were after,” Sasha said, after knocking on Jon’s office door. Jon turned in his chair to face her, hand outreached to take the folder when she got close enough.

“Thank you, Sasha,” Jon said, as he grasped the folder. Sasha nodded and was about to let go when she glanced down and saw Jon’s hand.

“Is that nail polish?” She asked suddenly, voice coming out more accusatory than she intended. Jon snatched the folder away from her, curling his fingers into his palms as soon as the paper hit the desk surface. He still wore his face of neutrality, but his jaw was tense. Sasha was surprised at how defensive, and how quickly, Jon reacted to the question, but immediately saw she needed to remedy it. She quickly added, “It looks nice.”

As soon as the compliment was said, Jon seemed to relax a bit. His jaw unclenched and slowly he unfurled his fingers. His nails were a simple black, though it was a messy job and they were already chipping. 

“Oh, thank you.” He said softly.

“Did you do them yourself?” Sasha asked, even though she couldn’t imagine Jon asking for help to do his nails.

“Yes, er. As a child, I always wanted to paint my nails but I couldn’t, so.” He held up his hands, wiggling his fingers. “They’re not very good, are they?”

Sasha shrugged. “Pretty good for a first time, though. Next time you’ll want to push your cuticles back first, and you should probably get a varnish too. It’ll stop them from chipping so much.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, Sasha,” Jon said, clearly not expecting advice. Sasha gave one last nod, and a, “No problem.” before leaving Jon’s office. 

After that - or maybe Sasha just noticed it more afterwards - Jon seemed to come to work ‘prettied up’ more often. He seemed to listen to her nail advice, and while he often sported plain, black nails - sans chipping, thanks to the nice clear coat he put on - a few times he came into work with blue, or red, or green nails. While Martin and Tim always complimented them, if they noticed, Jon began going up to Sasha to show her every fresh set. Often it would be a week or two between appearances; Jon seemed to just let the previous coat chip off completely before repainting them, approaching Sasha with his hands curled in a way so that he could view his own nails before showing them off to her. Sasha always made sure that she seemed excited to see them, even if they weren’t always that good. The way that Jon seemed to loosen after every compliment, the way his face would soften just a tad made it worth it. 

Soon it became their little routine, even as Jon’s habits changed. While it started with nails, soon Jon would awkwardly approach her to show off the fancy braid he just learned how to do with his growing hair. Often, they were messy and uneven, large strands falling out of the cheap hair ties, but Sasha would say it was nice, before offering to fix it for him. Jon always declined, disappearing into his office and coming out later, braid abandoned and hair in its usual neat bun, but Sasha always offered. For a while, Jon had taken to looking at the clothes Sasha came to work in, awkwardly complimenting her on whatever coat or blouse or shoes she had worn. It took Sasha a few times to realize what he was saying - or at least thinking. 

“I like your skirt,” Jon mumbled one day, as he and Sasha walked into the archives. “It’s very pretty.”

Sasha hummed, looking down at it. It wasn’t anything fantastic, just a black a-line skirt with a vaguely plaid pattern, long enough to be work-appropriate without annoying her. She mostly wore it because the growing pile of dirty laundry in her flat left her few other options. 

“Thank you, Jon,” she replied, before pursing her lips. “You know, I think you would look quite nice in a skirt.”

A bold move, Sasha knew, but after Jon sputtered for a moment, he managed to choke out, “You… you do?”

“Oh, yes. You got nice, slender legs, and if one a little longer it would just add to the frumpy librarian look quite nicely.” Sasha laughed a little, unable to resist the urge to tease a little. Jon gave a polite chuckle and nodded. 

They repeated this process a few more times, over a few weeks. Jon would give Sasha a sincere, if not a bit bumbling compliment on her wardrobe or appearance (often for items Sasha did not care for that much) and after thanking him, she would flip it around and say, “I think this lipgloss colour would suit you better than me” or " a blouse like this would make your collarbones look good” or even being as bold as saying “You should get a dress like it, then we can match.” 

Jon would brush the comments off with a laugh or a denial, but Sasha could see the wheels in his head-turning, the way he would occasionally look at whatever pair of pants he was wearing that day and frown. 

Eventually, Sasha’s hard and not-so-subtle work paid off when she saw Jon shuffle into the archives, not in his usual attire of plain cardigan and button-up, tucked into a pair of boring pants, but with a new look: a cardigan and plain button-up tucked into a shockingly boring skirt. It suited him, though; the long grey fabric skimming his ankles, the way it would flow behind and the way his feet would kick it in front. Jon’s fingers seemed to be absent-mindedly twisting themselves into the fabric, as he made his way towards his office.

Sasha was right; Jon did rock the frumpy librarian look.

“Good morning, Jon,” Sasha greeted, cheerfully. Jon looked up.

“Morning, Sasha.”

“New wardrobe?” She asked, nodding at his outfit. Jon seemed to falter a little, standing still, waiting for her assessment. “I like it! Really suits you.”

And while that was a bit of a lie - Sasha found it to be a bit boring, and she would never have even considered buying herself, though it did quite Jon wonderfully - Sasha couldn’t bring herself to feel the least bit bad, when she heard Jon mutter a soft, “Thank you,” before hurrying to his office. For a split second, Sasha would have sworn that his lips were pulled into a smile, thought for a moment she saw a flash of his teeth, but he was opening and closing his office door before she could confirm.

-2

Despite all her grumbling, thrown insults, and jabs, Melanie didn’t actually dislike Jon. Well, no, she did dislike him, immensely. He’s smug, and rude, and has a know-it-all attitude, and he absolutely did not take her show seriously. But, behind all of that, he respected her abilities and her competence, if not the way that she uses it. She thought of it like she wouldn’t want anything to hurt Jon unless it was her giving him a good slap around the head. 

Still, when she ended up hanging around the Archives more - and shockingly, no one, not even Jon, tried to stop her - after her show fell apart and took most of her professional network with it, she’s surprised how much common ground she shares with Jon. At first, they needed someone else in the room with them, to grease the wheels of conversation - either Sasha siding with Melanie every once in a while, or a well-timed joke from Tim, or Martin’s placating tone - but every time they found themselves able to stand each other without any assistance, even starting their own conversation. Without her show, with its staged dramatics and clickbait titles to feed Jon’s antagonisms, they find that they have similar opinions and histories with the supernatural. 

“Most statements and stories are completely false,” Jon had repeated many times. But soon he began to add, “But the ones that are real are… deeply concerning, and hard to come by.”

More than a few times Jon had caught Melanie digging through filing cabinets, looking for a statement with a shred of truth in it, anything to follow up or make a story out of. After the third time that Jon threw open the door to the filing room and nearly gave himself a heart attack when the light illuminated Melanie’s hunch over figure, reading through a pile of folders that she most certainly was not going to put away properly, Jon sighed and asked, “Why don’t I just give you some statements that seem real.”

Melanie looked up from the file in her hand that she was about to discard. “You’d do that? Isn’t that against ‘policy’ or something.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’s no more breaking rules than allowing you in here in the first place.” He eyed the pile of statements on the floor, the open drawer with crumbled papers shoved in. “Besides, I’m tired of having to spend an entire day refiling after you pop in.”

And so, Jon started keeping track of statements he believes. First on sticky notes, then on looseleaf paper, and eventually in a notebook so that Melanie can keep track as she goes along, Jon wrote down the name and case number of what he believes are credible cases, and Melanie dug them out of their dusty tombs. Even if she didn’t put them away - which she rarely did, can’t go making Jon’s life too easy, she thought with a grin - it was clear that he appreciated knowing exactly where they came from. She still browsed around, skimming through statements that Jon doesn’t believe, but she puts those ones back where she finds them if they weren't worth her time. 

Their strange friendship continued like that for a few months. They steered clear of personal topics, even, no, especially,  as Melanie began going on dates with Georgie. Occasionally, a personal detail would slip in; Jon mentioned that he hates denim skirts after telling Melanie about a statement that, for some reason, explicitly mentions them (“And what makes you an expert on what women should wear?” Melanie asked, annoyance clear in her. 

Jon furrowed his eyebrows. “What? No, I’m talking about me. I hate wearing denim skirts.”

“Oh,” Melanie says, the wind coming out of her sails. “Uh, me too.”). At one point Melanie mentioned that she loves artificial blue raspberry, which made Jon scrunch his nose in disgust. Before they knew it, Melanie and Jon knew about the other’s thoughts on movies, books, fashion, the weather, politics, animals, food, and whether or not Rosie is dating that one woman from HR.

It was a slow and gradual shift, one that caught both of them off guard. But neither was anxious to prevent it and really, Melanie was kind of interested to see where it would go. It’s with that thought in mind, seeing how this will go, that she throws a folder onto Jon’s desk. He hadn’t looked up when she knocked and entered without waiting, but with the manila folder obscuring whatever paperwork he was doing, he sighs and lifts his head. 

“Yes, Melanie?”

“This statement was misfiled,” Melanie said, glee and gloating oozing out of her voice. She cackled when she saw Jon scowl, arms crossing automatically. He glanced down at the casefile.

“It most certainly was not,” Jon huffed, picking it up. He doesn’t even mention how it wasn’t a file he gave her, so keen to prove her wrong. “It was filed by year, 2006, subsection ‘non-human creature’, subsection ‘false’ and-”

“Exactly,” Melanie interrupted. “It’s not fake.”

“What do you mean it’s not fake.” Jon narrowed his eyes. “It’s about a bloody sea monster!”

“A sea monster which is described in another statement from 1984,” Melanie threw another folder onto his desk, which Jon hadn’t noticed in her hand in his haste to disagree, “And, one that causes damage similar to this accident report,” Melanie unlocked her phone and shoved it into Jon’s face. His eyes crossed and squinted as he tried to read the news article on the screen. “Which, by the way, all occur in the same region of the Barents Sea.”

Jon lifted his eyes from the phone screen, still slightly glaring at Melanie. He looked away after a second, raising a hand to scratch the side of his face.

“Well, then, I guess we will have to look into it some more,” his voice was different than what Melanie was used to. Behind the movement of his hand, Melanie thought she saw some falses of teeth and saw a slight twinkle in his eye. He quickly dropped his face, expression and voice back to normal, “But, this is not permission for you to go back to rummaging through my files!”

Melanie grinned wolfishly, putting a hand on her hip. The gentle voice and expression were already leaving her mind. “Like I ever needed your permission, Jon.”

-1

It was almost surprising how well Daisy got on with Jon. She supposed it was because they were both a bit quieter than the people around them, got a bit more drained from human interaction than others, a bit more like old souls. Only, Daisy was more of an ‘old soul’ because the thought of all the therapy she had to go through years ago still made her tired and because she was literally about fifteen years older than everyone else in the Archives. 

“Why is it that your joints hurt more than mine even though you’re a baby?” Daisy asked, after finding Jon laying on the floor of his office, hair and dress fanned out on the floor. When she had questioned his state, he just mumbled, “m’back hurts.”

Calling him a baby made him grumble more. “I’m not a baby, I am a grown man-”

“More like an old man.” Daisy joked, sitting down cross-legged by his head. “Seriously, you’re too young to be aching this much.”

Jon shrugged, shirt rustling against the carpet. “I’ve always ached. I guess having a desk job just made it worse.”

Daisy nodded. She couldn’t really relate; all her old aches hadn’t been physical, and before the archives all her jobs involved in a lot of moving - whether it was fast food as a teenager, or retail as a young adult, and then the police. 

“You should go to a chiropractor, get a massage.” She suggested.

“Chiropractor and masseuse are two different professions.”

“Piss off, you know what I’m saying.” Jon rolled his eyes and squirmed a bit on the floor. 

“I don’t like the thought of someone… massaging me.”

“It feels really good,” Daisy replies, thinking back to the few massages she had gotten in her life. “And chiropractors don’t really massage, they just snap your joints back into place and then give you weird exercises to do.”

Jon shrugged again and didn’t say anything. Daisy wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t have anything to say, or if his previous movement made something along his spine twinge. After a minute of silence, with Jon’s face occasionally morphing from boredom to discomfort, Daisy got an idea. 

“Stand up,” she said, getting to her feet herself. Jon looked up, startled.

“Why?”

“Just do it,” Daisy stuck her hand out for Jon to take. With a little effort, Jon sat up, groaning a little, before taking her stand to stand. As soon as he was upright, Daisy reached down to hold Jon from under his armpits.

“Uh, Daisy, what are you doing?” Jon asked, arms sticking straight out, stiff, as Daisy brought his body closer to her.

“I’m going to reset your back,” Daisy said, as Jon’s face squished against her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this a few times, it usually helps.”

Jon mumbled something, before yelping when Daisy stood closer to her full height and he was lifted a few inches off the ground. Jon’s arms instinctually went around Daisy’s shoulders, even though she was fully supporting his weight. 

“Okay, you gotta relax your body, untense your muscles- Jon that is the opposite of untensing. There you go, okay, you’re going to hear a crack,” She said, before squeezing Jon into her body, forearms pressed across different parts of his back. There was a loud crack as she felt Jon tighten his arms around her and give a little yell into her shoulder. 

She loosened her grip, but still held him close for a second, just in case. She felt his mouth move against her shirt, and at first, she thought he was mumbling something, but then the movement ceased for a few seconds. Another small movement, and then no motion once again. Finally, she lowered Jon to the floor and released him. He stood, and quickly went to smoothing out his shirt.

“How’d that feel?” Daisy asks, noticing how he wasn’t automatically going back to lie on the ground. Jon stilled for a second, before saying,

“It feels a lot better. Thank you, Daisy.”

+1

Martin knew he wasn’t subtle, at least not when it came to Jon. He knew practically anyone who came down to the Archives could tell he had a crush, knew that his attempts to coddle, and talk to, and make Jon proud were just about as sly as painting a banner that said: “I WANT TO DATE JONATHAN SIMS.”

He almost couldn’t help it. Sure, he had gotten a bit better at not letting Jon treat him like a doormat over the years - sometimes Jon even seemed pleasantly surprised when Martin told him off for being mean - but there was still an undeniable urge to be gentle with him, to treat him kindly, to make him smile. 

Not that anyone had any recollection of Jon smiling - hell, Tim even made a few jokes that Jon was probably in a terrible accident as a smile and ‘broke his smile muscles, but left his annoying muscles intact’. It wasn’t very funny, but Martin and Sasha still laughed. 

Still, in some masochistic kind of way, Martin enjoyed this prolonged courtship. And even though his friends were sure that nothing was advancing, that Martin was still being a pining fool (which wasn’t an inaccurate description) and Jon was still being an unrequiting idiot, Martin was sure that he was making progress. Jon and he were having more… moments. More times where they would make eye contact and Jon’s face would soften, more conversations where Jon would ramble off-topic, at ease and relaxed, before remembering himself and Martin and roping him back into the conversation. There would be times where Martin would pass Jon a cup of tea, mug angled so that Jon could easily grab the handle, and yet Jon would take the mug in such a way that their fingers would brush. Sometimes they even lingered there, the heat of ceramic burning his hand, almost unnoticeable in comparison to the heat of his face as Jon glanced at him through his eyelashes, saying, “Thank you, Martin.”

Maybe it was just because no one else was privy to these moments, or maybe Martin really was just a yearning fool, desperately grasping at anything that suggested Jon returned his affection, but no one else seemed to understand these moments or take them seriously. 

“Your crush is getting out of control,” Tim said one day, after watching Martin bring Jon tea in a mug covered in hearts. “Like, legally speaking, I think it’s too much.”

Martin rolled his eyes. Jon had stared at the mug for a few seconds before taking it, and even though it was still piping hot, much too warm to comfortably drink, he took a sip as soon as it was in his grasp. “This is lovely, Martin. Thank you.”

“Leave it alone, Tim, it’s fine,” Martin replied, going back to sit at his desk. 

“No, it is getting a bit ridiculous,” Sasha agreed. “I mean, how long have you been after him? Like, I love Jon, trust me, but he’s either oblivious or ignoring your, uh, flirting attempts.”

“He’s not ignoring them.”

“So he’s just oblivious?”

“I don’t think so.” Sasha and Tim looked at him strangely. He sighed. “Look, things are fine, okay? It’s fine, just let me… do my thing.”

“Fine, we will ‘let you do your thing’ but, for the record, you probably could have gotten with at least three people in the time that you’ve been lusting after Jon,” Tim said, earning a laugh from Sasha. 

But it was fine, whatever he and Jon had. It was certainly more than what he had been getting before, and even though he wanted more - chest aching at the sight of a frazzled or tired Jon, feeling the need to brush his hair out of his face, to press tender kisses to his eyelids, the near unbearably desire to just hold him, and care for him - Martin wasn’t unhappy. And somehow he knew Jon wasn’t either. 

Sometimes Jon even sought Martin out, intentionally leaving his stuffy office only to walk over to Martin's desk and chat with him for a few minutes before returning. Often he would have to return a minute later, muttering about leaving a pen or a pencil or a hair tie. (One time, as Jon turned around to leave, Martin saw the pen on the edge of his desk, and said, “You left your pen.”

Jon had turned around, looking almost disappointed. “Oh. Yes, thank you, Martin.”

He collected his pen and returned to his office. Martin didn’t see him until he said goodbye for the night. The next time he saw Jon dropping something at his desk, he didn’t mention it.)

When Jon actually remembered to eat lunch now, he would only come out to eat if Martin hadn’t eaten already, as he had taken to sitting either across or directly next to him during meal times. If Jon was sitting next to him - usually because Melanie or Basira were sitting across the shifty breakroom table - Martin could feel Jon gently, almost shyly, pressing his knee against Martin’s leg. Jon’s face was always blank, but if Martin made any move to shift away, Jon’s head would snap towards him until contact was either completely broken or restored. 

Of course, there wasn’t an easy way to explain this to anyone else. How could Martin have possibly hoped to quantify glances, and touches, and the new intonations when Jon said ‘Martin’, the name now completely different than what Jon used to call him, despite no letters changing. How to explain it when no one else seemed to notice the magnitude of these changes if they noticed the changes at all?

So Martin rolled his eyes and made jokes with the others as they teased and prodded him about his ‘crush that was going nowhere on the boss’, and hoped, like so many times before, that Jon couldn’t hear them through his office door.

As pathetic as it sounded, Martin was prepared to play the long game, to continue this dance he and Jon had begun as long as it took, to tolerate the unbearable loneliness that crept up on him at home so long as he got to see Jon at work, to keep bringing him tea every day until, well, until something happened, or until one of them left the archives. Martin had made peace with that fact, though he loathed to admit it, even to himself. 

And then, Jon asked for his help one day. 

“Can you stay late with me this evening? I need some assistance looking into a statement.” Jon had been formal, professional when he asked. 

“Of course,” Martin said, if not because any time spent with Jon was a good time (usually, not even Martin was in deep enough to enjoy some of Jon’s moods), then because he did take his job seriously. “Anything you need.”

“I can stay behind too if you need extra help,” Basira offered, turning to look at Jon.

Jon nodded at her. “Thank you for offering, but I’ll only be needing Martin.”

And he has to admit, hearing that did bring warmth to his face and to his chest.

The help that Jon needed was minimal. Some of it was just reaching a file of a self that was too high since the stepladder that he used to use had broken, and Martin knew that Jon had too much pride to ask for help reaching something when everyone was in. Otherwise, all he needed assistance with was looking over a few files to see if a name popped up in all of them. All in all, it only took about half an hour, including the time it took to re-sort the files and put the relevant ones on Jon’s desk. 

As Martin was preparing to leave, Jon approached him one more time, also clad in his winter coat and bulky scarf tucked under his chin. He stood in front of Martin, looking intently. Martin waited for, well, something. Jon took a deep breath.

“Would- Are you- Do,” Jon scowled at himself, took another breath and reached up to tug his scarf lower again so that more of his face was visible. “Martin, would you like to go out to eat with me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Martin replied, cheeks reddening slightly. Jon paused for a moment.

“I mean this as a date.”

Martin looked at Jon, bundled in his winter wear, hair slightly tangled, fumbling over asking Martin out!

“I knew that’s what you meant,” Martin said with a smile. He looked down at Jon’s hands, clenched tightly into themselves. He reached a hand out and carefully brushed a finger along the knuckles of on. “Of course, I would like to go on a date with you.”

And when he looked up, he saw Jon smiling, and it felt like seeing the stars for the first time. Jon always said he looked much older than he was, which Martin was inclined to agree, but when he smiled, he looked more his age. The tiredness and stress that plagued his expressions disappeared under the glow of his grin, eyes crinkled, and. Dimples. 

Jon had dimples, nestled in between his smile lines, a secret that Martin knew he was now the only one in the Institute besides Jon who knew they existed. 

“You have dimples,” Martin said, a smile creeping onto his own face. “They’re cute.”

Jon sputtered a, “No they’re not!” and Martin could see he was trying to return his face to its usually impassive expression, but it seemed that every time he got close, his grin would break through. Eventually, Jon tugged his scarf up to cover his mouth, but Martin still saw his eyes crinkled, somehow still felt Jon smiling through the layers.

“They’re cute,” Martin repeated, wanting to pull Jon’s scarf down again. This want was different than what he usually felt, a desire not tinged with sadness or loss. Maybe it was presumptuous, but Martin knew that this urge would be met. Maybe not now, but soon. 

And Martin thought about Jon’s smile, even when he asked, voice muffled behind the layers of wool, where Martin wanted to go to eat, and would Martin like to walk, transit or take a cab there, and, and and.

Martin thought about Jon’s smile, knowing he was one of the few people to see it, knowing that he would get to see it again