#day 4 in a row of not being able to sleep at night and having to go into work with god awful headaches

[polaraffect]

"to get rid of sleep deprivation headaches, you should sleep between 7-9 hours at night-" no fucking shit google, do you think i would be googling this rn if i could sleep???

[awaywith-thefaeries]

HANGMAN’S A WHAT NOW!? | j.seresin

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x wife!reader

summary: after the uranium mission, the dagger squad is assigned more permanently to the San Diego base, so Jake and his wife make plans to move their little family out to SoCal. The rest of the dagger squad is quite surprised to find out that Hangman even has a wife, when she joins them for a beach day, with some little surprises in tow.

warnings: pure, tooth-rotting fluff, Jake being a girl dad

a/n: this is just a little piece I came up with a 4 a.m. last night. reblogs are greatly appreciated. feel free to send in requests for any of the characters on my page, my requests are open!

word count: 2k

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Mama, are we almost there yet?”

You smiled softly at your daughter, cuddling as close to her sister as the seatbelt in the back of the car will allow her.

“Almost, Liv,” you say gently.

“Okay then, Mama,” your daughter sighs, her head falling onto her sister's, where she is snoozing on Olive’s shoulder.

You smile at your twin girls, who had been so good for you while you drove from your old home in rural Texas, to join their father in San Diego, where he has been more permanently stationed after the success of the last mission he had been called back to Top Gun for. The girls adored their father and it has been a hard couple of months without him, for all three of you. You know it has been hard on Jake too. He acted happy for the girls on their frequent FaceTime sessions, but you’ve known Jake too long to not catch the sadness in his eyes as he read them a bedtime story and watched them fall asleep without being able to tuck them into their blankets, smooth their hair back from their faces and kiss them goodnight.

Which is why you had packed up the girls, and all your essentials three days before schedule, so you could finally reunite with your beloved husband. You have been in contact with the only one of your husband's fellow pilots you’ve met, his friend Javy (or Coyote to his team), who let you know that the whole squad was having a beach day today, which is where you are headed now.

You look around at the houses on either side of the street as you follow the GPS to the location Coyote sent you, somewhere called The Hard Deck. He had texted you that you could park your van in the lot, and then go through the bar (which isn’t open this early in the afternoon, he assured you) to get to the beach on the other side.

Passing under a row of palm trees, you pull into the parking lot of the small beachside bar you have heard so much about from your husband and turn into the open spot in between Jake’s truck and a shiny Bronco.

Putting your keys in your bag, you open your door and climb out, brushing your long skirt out as you make your way around the front of the car to open the door your girls are sleeping next too.

Opening it gently, you brush you fingers through Charlotte’s dark blonde hair, so similar to her daddy’s.

“Lottie, baby, it’s time to wake up, we’re here,” you whisper to her. She stirs a little, blinking bleary green eyes up at you as a tiny hand comes up to rub her face. The arm movement jostles Olive, who picks her head up and yawns.

“Come on, my loves, can you undo your seatbelts and stand next to Mama, so I can make sure you look so pretty to see Daddy again?”

With that question, the identical faces of the best gifts Jake has ever given you light up, as if remembering where they are and why they had been driving in the car for two days.

Within seconds, your twins are standing side by side, bobbing up and down on their toes in excitement as you check that their adorable little matching outfits have not been wrinkled too much by the car ride. Once you re-tie Charlotte’s hair bow, which had come undone in the car, you take each of your daughters hands in each of yours and lead them into the empty bar.

Passing through the doors that lead onto the sand, your girls gape at the sight of the ocean sparkling in the late afternoon sun.

“Mama,” Olive says, mouth hanging open, “it’s so big.”

“Yeah, baby, it goes on for miles and miles.”

“Mama, mama, mama, look!” Charlotte bounces in place next to you and squeezes the hand she’s holding onto. “I can see Daddy!”

You turn to look where she’s pointing and sure enough, a tiny ways down the beach, you spot your husband, throwing around a ball with another man in board shorts. The man throws his head back and laughs at something Jake says.

“Mama, can we go! Can we do the surprise now, please?” Olive asks, so sweetly that your heart melts a little bit as you nod at your daughter.

“Go knock him over with the biggest hug ever, girls!” You say as you start walking again, releasing their hands so that they can run ahead.

✯✯✯✯

“Nice try, Bradshaw,” Jake yells to his friend as Rooster throws a particularly hard ball, causing Jake to have to side step to catch it.

“One day man,” Rooster grins, “one day, I’ll get you.”

Jake is just about to come up with a witty retort when he hears something he thought he wasn’t going to hear for another couple of days.

“Daddy!”

“Daddy!”

Two little voices he knows better than anything. Jake whips around in disbelief, forgetting Rooster and the game of catch in an instant as he spots his little girls running towards him, dressed adorably in little matching outfits.

Jake takes a few steps towards his girls and then drops into the sand just in time for them to come crashing into him, arms going round his neck and bodies thumping into him with such force, he goes sprawling back in the sand with his babies on top of him. He holds them there for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of them in his arms again, their puffs of laughter tickling his neck.

After a few moments, he sits up effortlessly, still holding onto the two five year olds and sets them onto their feet. Pulling out of the hug just far enough to look at their faces, Jake’s right hand comes up to stroke Olive’s hair out of her eyes while his left stays firmly around Charlotte’s waist.

“What are you doing here, you two?”

“We come early, Daddy!” Olive says, her little hand coming up to touch Jake’s cheek.

“Mama said we should surprise you!” Charlotte says, her voice muffled from where she’s pressed her face into her father’s neck.

“Did she now?” Jake asks playfully, looking up just as a pair of legs he knows very well stop in front of him. He lets his eyes trail upwards until they meet yours and he swears, he doesn’t think there will ever be a time where he isn’t affected by that beautiful smile.

“Hi Darlin,” he grins, letting go of his babies for only a moment to get to his feet before putting his hands on their heads as they wrap themselves around a leg each.

“Hey Handsome,” you smirk back, and Jake can’t help but close the tiny distance between you to press a kiss to your lips.

He feels so content in this moment, all three of his girls are finally with him after too long (in his opinion) apart, that it’s a bit jarring when Rooster’s voice breaks through his little bubble of happiness.

“I’m sorry, what the fu….rick is going on here?”

Jake laughs against your lips before pressing one last final kiss to them before pulling away and turning to see the rest of his team, save Coyote, gaping at him.

“What does it look like, Bradshaw,” Jake smirks, as Rooster rubs his ribs where Phoenix evidently elbowed him to keep him from cursing in front of the two little girls still hanging onto their father.

“It looks,” Phoenix jumps in, trying to sound mad, but failing because of the shit eating grin on her face, “like you’ve been keeping secrets, Bagman.”

You’re intoxicating laugh has Jake turing back to you, a betrayed look in his eyes, an over exaggerated pout on his lips.

“Baby?” He whines, purposefully making his bottom lip jut out and quiver slightly. You laugh again, leaning forward to kiss away his frown.

“Oh hush…..now, is your Daddy going to introduce us to the squad, or are we gonna have to report back to Grandma Seresin about his manners,” you say cheekily, leaning down to address the last part of your question to the twins. They both giggle and pull on Jake’s hands, while he stares down at his little family.

“Alright, no need to involve my mama,” he says, grinning, “who wants a ride over?”

Both of his daughters look up at him with matching grins, before Olive reaches up and starts shouting, “Sandwich, sandwich!”

“Oh alright!” Jake sighs dramatically, before taking her hands in both of his and swinging her up onto his back. Once he’s sure her little legs are locked around his waist tight enough that she won’t fall, he reaches down for Charlotte, and lifts her up to carry her on his chest.

With his daughters hanging off him like Koalas, and your hand in one of his, he leads you over to the little congregation of towels the gang had set up earlier that day.

Bob, Phoenix, Rooster, and Fanboy all rise to their feet from where they had been lounging, as Jake approaches with his family. Only Coyote remains on his towel, a fact which makes Jake smirk.

“Everyone, these are my girls,” Jake says, angling his body so that Olive is slightly visible, and Charlotte can see from where her head is back in his neck.

There’s a chorus of heys from the group and Jake feels one of Olive’s hands leave his neck, reaching up to wave at the pilots.

“This is my wife, Y/N Seresin, and these two beauties…..Can you say hi, and introduce yourself, sugar?” Jake asks Olive, bouncing a little so that she holds onto his neck again. She giggles lightly and Jake feels her nod against his shoulder.

“I’m Liv,” she says, “it’s very nice to meet you!”

She mispronounces her v’s slightly, but her greeting is so endearing that Jake witnesses all the pilots melt in front of him.

“And what about you, baby?” Jake asks Charlotte, angling his head so that he can see her face. She shakes her head slightly, her eyes so wide and innocent in her face.

“Are you sure, darlin?” Jake asks. His shy daughter just shakes her head, and turns her face, so that her face is hidden completely in her father’s neck.

“Okay….,” Jake murmurs to her, running his hand up and down her back in circles and turns to his group of pilots.

“This little one is Lottie,” he says.

“Coyote,” you say, taking the focus of the group off of your shy daughter as you call your friend, “are you gonna stay over there, or are you actually going to get up and and come say hello?”

“Ya know, I think I’m good where I am,” Coyote laughs from his seat, grinning.

“Uncle Javy!?” Olive asks, wriggling around in excitement.

“Yeah Livie!” Coyote grins, finally getting up from the ground and making his way over.

“Daddy, down please!” Olive chirps and Jake obligingly bends until his daughter can hop off his back.

The minute Olive is on the ground, she takes off running towards Coyote, and he leans down as she gets to him, and lifts her up, swinging her around in the air as her laughter explodes from her. After she's been swung around a few times, Coyote p uts her back in the sand and pulls you into a side hug.

✯✯✯✯

As the family reunites with each other, and some of the pilots go and begin chatting with Jake and his wife, Phoenix sidles up to Rooster and elbows him again.

"You good, Roos?"

The pilot turns his head to look at her, and she bursts out laughing.

"Oh come on, Bradley, is it really that shocking that Jake has a life outside of the navy?"

"Kind of!"

Phoenix goes to elbow her friend again, but he's ready this time, dodging out of the way as she goes for his ribs, the two pilots laughing as they join the rest of the group getting to know their newest members.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think!

[cottoncandybitchfuck]

Riz Gukgak, a little rogue from a single-parent household. A natural detective, going nights without sleeping and worrying his mother to death. He was looking for his babysitter who had gone missing, he didn’t care about friends. He was the briefcase kid, he was used to getting bullied. He gets thrown into a trash can and called “The Ball.” He stole a teabag in the name of getting clues and got detention. He brought a gun to his first day of school. He killed a monster, making the worst but smartest choice of jumping into the corn monster. He joined the A.V. club with some gross people just to solve a mystery. He started taking care of a random rat just because he could. He used his suitcase as a skateboard during combat. He shot Coach Daybreak when he was unconscious just to make sure he was dead. He knew they weren’t done yet despite the cops having the palimpsest. He took 7 damage to try to save someone from a palimpsest. He shot 2 of his classmate’s fingers off to get him to answer their questions. He holds the sword of shadows. He kills a dragon and then eats him. “Fury of the Ball” He becomes a licensed investigator. He lied about having a partner, and it manifested and kidnapped him. He comes clean immediately. He gave up a secret only to save his friend he never thought he would have. He tried to help Fabian feel better after the fight at the Row and the Ruction. He helped save Adaine, helping take down a Plyon. He found record of the coin from the Nightmare King in Kalvaxus’ Horde. He was also the first to find out about the Shadow Cat.  He represented Fig in a legal trial in Hell. He met his dad and almost thought he was bad. He became part of the Lower Planar Reconnaissance Task Force. His biggest fear was getting left by his friends getting in relationships. He came up with the way to destroy Kalina. He used magic to be able to drive. He ran over Fabian. He joined every club he could and became a campaign manager so that he could go to college since his mom couldn’t afford it. *His principal cast Hold Monster on him…  He didn’t hesitate to protect Fig from the moon by throwing her into his briefcase and jumping in after her. His nightmare followed him, it attacked his friends. He got away again. He learned to talk shit. He hid so well and helped with the Last Stand so much. He found the rogue teacher, he solved so many points of the mystery. He killed another dragon! He is so protective of his friends, and he hated what the rat grinders stood for. “Make sure to cut his head off so he can’t be revived.” He submerged in lava just to throw Kipperlilly off.  “Very good on paper but… no practical application.” He apologized to Fig and Kristen for pushing them to do school when they didn’t want to, as well as made sure Kristen actually wanted to be president. He is Riz Gukgak, The Ball, and he is a huge part of the bad kids despite being so small. And the one thing Porter was right about? Riz is a “Little Shadow” and he is good at it too. 

It took me three hours to write this because I had to condense and cut so much. It’s 1am (12:14) in a warehouse in the middle of the sea (a dorm room) and I am finally done with this style of post. At least 4 more Bad Kids posts are coming, and then I’ll be normal again (posting about other fandoms and dnd shows)

*I said this was important! He used dominate person on Ruben, so that was a choice Grix made, there are no mechanical reasons for monster to work vs person

[astro-royale]

「How to know you are spiritually protected ☥

My own insights into spiritual protection- Amaryllis

1. This is going to sound weird but… feeling invisible when you go outside in large crowds. Sometimes it will literally feel like you’re gliding..and some people can’t see you at all. Some people seem to look straight ahead completely unaware of your presence..and the people who look, turn their heads to look again to make sure they’ve seen you correctly. Because your auric field stands out so much…

2. You are safe in situations most people wouldn’t be. This is not by any means an invitation to try this out because if you F* around you will find out! - Spirit. But maybe you end up being in certain circumstances where you have to walk alone at night on certain streets that may have a certain negative reputation and you always end up being safe. Like having to take a certain particular way home everytime you come home from school or work and other people have horror stories about that road/street yet you don’t and you’ve always been fine.

3. Learn to see the hidden blessing behind rejection. You get rejected by many people, jobs, “opportunities”…this one sounds strange again but it goes back to what I said in point number 1 with somehow being invisible to certain people with negative energies that could possibly harm you. Sometimes when it comes to romantic relationships especially…we have short term contracts with people..but staying within that connection any longer would be harmful so spirit encourages us to sever that tie or to let go because it served its spiritual purpose. Maybe that person suddenly decides they want to break up or don’t like you anymore. Rejection is Gods protection. I’ll say that again. Rejection is Gods protection. Whatever is meant for you, will find you and be with you.

4. You have some sort of extra sensory gift. With power comes responsibility. If god gave you some sort of intuitive power; one half of the reason as to why you have it is to protect you and warn you about certain dangers.. to help a seasoned soul like yours navigate this life.

5. You are able to sense when something isn’t right with people.. this goes back point number 4. But sometimes you will get chills or feel like something isn’t right with certain people and you don’t know why. Even when others seem to gravitate towards that thing/person. You can see behind the veil very well.

6. An obvious one but getting warnings in dreams, having a strong connection with the dream realm and understanding the spiritual significance behind it.

7. Your friends/family let you know they’ve had dreams about you and you often know what they mean/what they’re referring to, and know to take it as a sign.

8. Another strange one.. not being able to sleep…not knowing why you can’t sleep sometimes for several days in a row and then you’re fine and able to sleep normally again. Sometimes the astral realm is murky. Spiritual warfare is real. And sometimes not entering different realms and dimensions full of energy harvesting, demons, malicious entities, means not being able to sleep that night. That’s your higher self and guides protecting you.

9. Getting chills/realisations reading this post ;)

That’s all folks

[xxblairexxss]

Jealousy (part 4)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

The end! Thank you for loving the short series. I think this might be my best one yet because I didn’t limit myself to include everything but it was longer than my usual ones. Apologies it long fics are not your thing!

Your week went by with no more phone calls. Charles didn’t ask for another chance to speak to you and you were so glad he didn’t because you weren’t sure if you were gonna find it appealing or irritating. Deep down, you knew there was still an enraged flame in your heart that you couldn’t ignore regardless of your feelings for him.

You stopped replying to his texts too but you still read it from the notifications bar. He would tell you about what he did on the day, would ask you if you had eaten, how was your day but none of his questions were answered. He went to Maranello right away and stayed there until the next race so you were glad you didn’t have to meet him.

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Charles was demented with worry. He knew he was hoping too much when you unblocked his number but he never thought you would stop replying to his texts. He didn’t know what you were up to and that made him agitated.

Y/F/N has added to their story

You hadn’t unblock him on his Instagram but he would still be able to see your friend’s. He saw pictures of you on your friend’s Instagram story, all smiles and grinning ear to ear. He missed you a lot. He would stare at his phone every night before he went to sleep, anticipating your name popping up in his notification or phone call but none of it actually came. He was disappointed, of course, but he knew he deserved this.

But he still hadn’t lose you, had he?

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You had declined Charles’s offer to join him on his private flight to Mexico because you still had things to do at work on Friday so you had to miss practice rounds. You even forced Y/F/N to come with you so you wouldn’t be left alone with Charles because you didn’t know how to act and what to say around him. As if he wasn’t your boyfriend for 2 years.

“Please come with me! Please please please!”

Y/F/N rolled her eyes and shook her head, turning her back on you to which earned her a pillow threw at her head. “No, thank you. Hey!” She then sat up and threw it back at you and chortled at the face you made.

“I need you there! I can’t be with him alone!”

“He was your boyfriend for 2 years. Why are you acting as if you haven’t done anything nasty with him.” You stopped peeking inside your closet and glared at her.

“That was so unrelated.”

“You get what I mean! If you don’t want to be left alone then just ignore him! Plus, he’s gonna be so busy he won’t have time to chase after you.” Y/F/N shook her head at the navy top you showed her and you placed it back into the rows of clothes.

“I know but he even asked me to go to the after party. You know what happened the last time I went to a social event.” You picked another top and earned a yes from Y/F/N so you folded it into your small luggage.

“There’s a party?” You heard her sounded intrigued. You should have known this better. She would never say no to parties. The conversations could have been a plain sailing one if only you mentioned this topic first.

“Yeah. There’ll be hot guys everywhere. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.” You packed another pair of pants and saw in the corner of your eyes Y/F/N scrammed away, leaving the room.

“Wait for me!”

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You arrived at the hotel early in the morning and Charles had arranged everything. Y/F/N was passed out as soon as you guys checked in while you immediately gotten ready to go to the paddock before the qualifying round started.

Once you arrived, there were still a lot of people waiting at the entrance meanwhile the paddock was already packed with a few interviews being done at every spots. You only took a few steps when you heard your phone rang.

“Hi.”

You looked up from your phone and saw your boyfriend, or ex boyfriend, whichever you preferred walking towards you and you hated yourself for feeling this way. You felt like a kid who bumped into their crush at a school hallway. That silly, giddy with excitement as if it was your first time meeting him. Your heart was throbbing so loud that if he told you he could hear your heartbeat, you would have believed him right away. The butterflies in your stomach went wild and it made your knees weak. You smiled back at him and he took your hand in his, clasping it as he turned and walked back to the entrance. The sound of the fans around the paddock area screaming his name turned into a mumble as you kept your eyes on his back.

You were so glad you didn’t get to see and talk to him that much throughout the rest of the qualifying round. You didn’t even stay until the end though he offered you a ride back to the hotel.

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“How was it?”

“It was okay?”

Y/F/N mocked your face and you squinted your eyes at her. “What?”

“Tell me more! Did he say anything? Did he hug you? Tried to kiss you maybe?”

“No! He just held my hand. It’s not like he had any free time to even talk about us.” You took off your earrings and tied your hair in a bun.

“Such an asshole, isn’t he? When is he gonna apologise? Is he even gonna say sorry? Does he know how to say sorry?” You heard her blabbered with a mouth full of chips.

“We are not talking about this anymore. I’m gonna take a bath.”

As you started shampooing your roots, you heard the doorbell ring and thought it was just another room service that your best friend might had ordered.

“Hi, can I talk to Y/N?”

“She’s busy. We’re busy.” Y/F/N looked at the guy up and down and was going to close the door on him when he propelled it back.

“Wait! Please, I just want to give her something.”

Y/F/N stretched her arm forward and Charles blinked in confusion. “Give it to me. I’ll pass it to her.”

“Can I see her instead?”

“No. Either you pass it to me to you can go back to your room.” She replied sternly to which made him obediently handed the paper bags to her and walked away.

“Look,” Charles stopped in his trail when he heard her broke the silence.

“I’m not mad at you. Wait, I am mad at you. I’m pissed off, actually. But as much as I want her to leave your ass, she still loves you and I think that’s more than enough confirmation you need. I’ll give you a space to talk to her tomorrow so do whatever you need to do.” Charles was going to say something but the door slammed on his face faster than he could even blink.

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“Who was that? Did you order room service?” You walked out the bathroom in robes with wet hair, gasping when you saw boxes of pizza and doughnuts on the coffee table. “This is a lot! When did you buy them? Oh, this is my favourite!”

“I didn’t. The delivery guy came all the way to our room to deliver these.” You saw the displeased face on her and frowned in confusion.

“He also left you that. I don’t know what you told him but you could open a Dior pop-up shop with those stuffs.”

You looked to the side and saw a Dior paper bag full of different shades of the new lip gloss. It was the one you briefly mentioned in your last phone call with him. There was also a small note written on it. “I might forgot or had missed you said your favourite shade during our last call so I got them all. And I don’t think you have eaten anything after the qualifying round today so enjoy the food.”

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The race ended with Charles getting P3, letting him to get the podium spot again after missing it a few races. Y/F/N has asked you to head back early because she needed hours to make sure she looked hot to flirt all the guys at the afterparty. It always made you wonder how both of you ended up being best friends even with all those contrasts in your personalities.

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You arrived with Y/F/N a few minutes late so it was already crowded with people. As much as it made you feel nervous, Y/F/N was thrilled.

“You look beautiful, angel.”

“Oh?” You turned around and was greeted with Charles, hands in his pocket, a few steps away from you. You opened your mouth to reply to the compliment, but Y/F/N cut you off.

“Right? Too beautiful to be treated like a shit.”

You nudged her on her waist and glowered. “Okay, this is not the time!”

“I’m off! Charles, she’s yours.” Y/F/N fixed your hair before leaving both of you, too fast that you couldn’t even catch her arm to force her to stay with you.

“Thank you..” You awkwardly smiled, your hands were clasp together, trying not to look at his green eyes that much.

“Thank you?”

“For yesterday. You really didn’t have to, but , thank you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing compared to what you actually deserved. Anyway, do you want to—“ Charles turned around and saw one of his friends calling out to him. You looked at the source of the voice and saw his group of friends standing at the end of the room.

“You should go with them.”

“No, come with me.” He was going to seize your hand when you stepped back in defence.

“It’s fine, I’ll be somewhere else.”

“Y/F/N will kill me if she finds you alone. I know you hate me and you don’t want to be left alone with me but stay with me this time. Please?”

You felt his hand gently taking yours in his as he looked into your eyes, as if he was asking for consent and you gave in. Sure, you despised him a lot but the moment he held your hand, feeling his thumb stroking your knuckles, it reminded you that he had always been your solace in life. It took everything in you to not embrace him right there and then.

He introduced you to the rest of the groups and immediately engaged in a full conversations. His hand never left yours. You were just standing by his side, playing around with your heels when you were greeted with Y/F/N and a few people with her. She would always brought her group of friends with you at any party just to introduce you, her best friends with her new friends. Charles turned around when he felt you accidentally tugged on his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You were so glad for Y/F/N and was simply amazed with her social skills. Though you had a hard time engaging in a conversation and preferred to just listened, she kept on pulling you into the conversation by constantly asking you series of questions.

“That’s the worse. Right, Y/N?”

“Isn’t Y/N so pretty? I did her hair.”

“Y/N is very good at mix and match her clothes. Right, Y/N? But she still needed my help.”

Throughout the conversations, Charles still kept your hand in his but then it got uncomfortable when your hand started sweating so you ended up holding his pinky finger, occasionally fiddled with his fingers since you didn’t have your ring on. You thought he would pull away but he didn’t. He didn’t even budge.

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“Do you wanna go back to the hotel?”

“Can we?”

“Of course, angel. Let’s go.”

Charles had took you back to the hotel but it was only when you had arrived in front of your room when you realised you didn’t have your access card with you. He had asked you to stay in his room first until Y/F/N called.

It had been a while since the last time you were with him in a small space. As soon as you walked in, you were greeted with his smell, the mixture of scent between the different collection of his perfumes, the smell of his shower gels it was all too overwhelming it made your eyes teared up instantly.

“Sit down, silly. Why are you standing?”

You let out a sob, looking down and he stoop down to look at your face, sounding all worried and anxious. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Y/N?”

You continued to sob uncontrollably and he enfolded you in his arms, one hand around the back of your head and another one wrapped on your waist. “It’s okay, angel. I got you.”

“I hate you.”

His arms around your figure tighten when your body shook and he planted a kiss on the side of your head. “It’s okay, I hate myself too.”

“But I miss you so much, I miss your touch, your kiss, your voice, everything about you. I tried so hard to ignore you because maybe it would be easier for me to end everything, to end us but it was so hard.” The silent tears kept on running down your cheeks that you were so sure his shirt was already soaked.

Charles’s blood ran cold when you mentioned about ending things. Both of you had always been so optimistic with the relationship. You would always talked about how you would grow old together and he would have to assure you that he would always find you beautiful or you would have sulk.

He pulled away and crouched down to hold your cheeks in his hands and level his eyes with yours. “No, please, no. Please don’t leave me. Please, angel. I know I fucked up but give me another chance to be better. To fix this. I know it makes me selfish but I can’t see you with anyone else. Please.”

You didn’t reply but kept on wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, harshly, because of how frustrating everything was.

“I’ll kneel down if you want. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I can’t lose you. I really, really can’t.” His eyes were red from holding his tears and it smashed your heart. He looked so broken with compunction it made you cry even more.

“I’m sorry for what I did. I should have listened to you. I just got so mad when I saw you with other guys when I should have known better. I was too blinded with jealousy.” He took a shaky breath and wrapped you back in his arms so you wouldn’t see him cry.

“And when I saw what happened to you that night, I was just so furious at myself for being so stupid and allowing that to happen to you so I just blew up at you when all you needed was just my commiseration and assurance.” He left a few lingering kisses to the crown of your head and mumbled against your hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, angel.”

“Do you miss me?”

You felt his chest quivered as he tittered to your silly question. Had you got a glimpse of his life during the absence of you, you would have seen how miserable he actually was. “I don’t think the words I miss you is enough to express how much I long for you.”

You were no longer hugging his middle but your body was flushed against him as you stroke his cheek, feeling it damp from the tears that he tried to hide from you.

His arms left your waist briefly as he unhooked the necklace around his neck, pulling the end of it so the ring would slip out into his palm. “Do you… accept my apology?”

“I’ll think about it.” You giggled when he looked taken aback. “You are forgiven, Charles.”

“Can I put this back on you?” He looked nervous, as if he was going through every words he was about to say, too scared if you would slip off his fingers again.

“Are you proposing to me?”

“Not yet but I will. Mark my words.” He slid the ring back into your ring finger and lifted your hand to peck on it. Your arms circled around his neck as he locked you in his embrace. Your face was just an inch away from him that your nose would collide into his every time you moved your head a little. “I love you, Y/N.”

“And I love you more, Charles.” He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to yours, his arms cinching you to him as you kissed him back, your hands feeling the silken strands of his hair against your fingers.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Hello?” Charles squinted his eyes and put the phone to his ear, slightly whispering to not wake up the sleeping beauty in his arms.

“Charles? Do you happened to know where Y/N is? I just realised she’s not in the room.”

He laid his head back on the pillow and yawned. “Go to sleep, Y/F/N.”

“Where’s Y/N, you dick!”

“My girlfriend’s here with me. All safe and sound. You don’t have to worry.” His hand ran up and down against your back,when he felt you stirred on his chest.

“Oh, okay. I thought she was kidnapped or something. Break her heart again and I’ll make sure you won’t get any podium in your entire career. I mean it.”

You tilted your head a little to look at him, your eyes barely open. “Who was it?”

“It was just your guardian angel making sure I don’t fuck things up again. Let’s go back to sleep, baby.”

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @buendiabebeta @needtokeepfeelingsincheck @ironmaiden1313 @teenagedreams-cl @sheslikeacurse @love4lando @charli123456789 @ru-kru @httpspedri26 @honey6578 @sealsu @shyartisanvoidwagon @changetyre @aundercover

Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added in the tag list!

[jinnify]

irreplaceable pt. 2 — park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x idol!reader and a little bit of jay x reader genre: idk tbh LOL warnings: none word count: one thousand four hundred fourteen now playing: killing me by ikon extended note at the bottom. part one.

It had been a little over a month since you had broken up with Sunghoon when he received news of you being in a dating scandal with one of your seniors. If he were honest, he’d say he hadn’t ever expected you to move on from him that quickly, but maybe it had just been him overestimating how much he mattered to you - instead, he sent you a congratulations message that you never even opened.

Sunghoon, of course, had immediately started talking to his crush as soon as you’d broken up with him, trying to distract from the strange string of emotions you had stirred up within him that night. It was never more than a couple of dates before he lost interest in her.

Sooner or later, Sunghoon deleted your number from his phone, seeing how you had been caught with your presumed boyfriend more than once. It had been a mystery as to who you were dating as celebrity media outlets had only released your name, but Sunghoon felt bothered by it nonetheless.

Months passed with no news about you, which led him to quietly pass the time without thinking about you until end-of-the-year practices started ramping up for the entire industry. Suddenly, Jay would arrive at practices with a warm meal in hand, much too familiar with the way you once did for him. 

He tried to push away the many thoughts of one of his members and best friends dating his ex-girlfriend until he noticed a notification with your name on his lock screen. 

Sunghoon swore he died a little inside. How could his friend do this to him? To not even speak to him before trying to pursue you. Sunghoon was heartbroken for more than one reason that day. 

It took everything in him not to drag Jay out into the middle of the room and confront him for what he was doing behind his back. Instead, he went home without a glance back at the room filled with people. Sunghoon calmed himself down after an hour of pacing back and forth throughout his dorm room. He hadn’t been rationally thinking. 

Would Jay really do this to him?

The breakup had taken a toll on you. You hadn’t been able to eat or sleep well, which led to a lack of energy when you had practices that resulted in poor performance on music shows. You were more than aware of how dramatically you were reacting to this ordeal given that Sunghoon hadn’t even liked you, but that didn’t stop your heart from breaking every time a random memory of him doing something nice for you popped up in your head.

You tried to convince yourself that you hadn’t ever felt anything for Sunghoon yourself - that your infatuation had come from how handsome he was and you would get over this little slump in no time. 

You flopped around in bed, leaning over to look at your member’s alarm clock. 4:00 AM shown in red letters blinked back at you, taunting you with its horrendously bright lights.

This had been the third night in a row that you had been unable to sleep.

You felt your phone vibrate from under your pillow, alerting you of a text message. It took you a second to completely register who had sent you a message before you replied. Jay had asked if you were awake, wondering if you wanted to meet by a local convenience store. It only took you 10 minutes before you snuck out of your dorm, and were on your way to meet up with him.

You had never expected the level of true amity that would bloom between the both of you, but you were grateful to have had Jay there for you through one of the worst times in your life yet.

Neither you nor Jay was aware of the stirrup it would cause the next day when it had leaked that the two of you had met up late at night and after a stern interrogation from both of your managers, the situation had been cleared up without a problem.

The nightly outings with Jay continued whenever you couldn’t catch a full night’s rest, too preoccupied with your thoughts to give out. More and more of your fans had begun to speculate online, but your shared company never commented.

You had only recently started making Jay meals and dropping them off once you had started feeling better to repay him for all the money he had spent on your ice cream. Little thank-you notes littered the tops of the lids, cheering him on as you were both about to get very busy. 

It wasn’t until Jay asked you to stop that you realized there was a problem with what you had been doing. Of course, Jay had kept the reason for his hesitation to himself but it didn’t take a genius to understand what was going on.

In a fit of anger, you messaged Sunghoon’s number, still having his contact saved in your phone. It was a wordy message, filled with obscenities you wouldn’t have ever repeated to his face, but you were rightly upset that Sunghoon had the gall to be angry at his friend for comforting you as any normal person would have.

Who did he think he was to dictate his friend's actions?

If Sunghoon were honest with himself, he’d admit that he knew Jay dating you shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. He hadn’t even actually dated you - his friend was more than validated in his right to pursue you. 

He didn’t completely understand what bothered him more, the fact that it was Jay who was dating you or that you had moved on. He knew he should be happy for you, especially since he knew how hurt you had been when you broke up, but he couldn’t find it in himself.

He often caught himself daydreaming now, imagining how it must be for you and Jay on your dates. The glimmer in your eyes that had once been only for him to see was now shining for someone else. There was a sickly feeling in Sunghoon’s stomach, one he knew he shouldn’t be feeling.

After a while, he started avoiding Jay as much as he could. Sunghoon hadn’t expected the misery that would accompany him after your breakup. There had been an intense guilt that had started eating Sunghoon from the inside out. Couldn’t he just be happy for his friend?

Awards shows came quicker than he would have wanted. Sunghoon had managed to suppress his feelings long enough to get through practices, but he had no idea how well he’d hold up if he came across you with Jay. On top of that, you were upset with him over his reaction to your relationship.

It was only the beginning of award season, but Sunghoon had already seen too much. The smiles shared between you and Jay did not go unnoticed, and he hated it.

He hated just how much he wished your smiles were directed at him.

Sunghoon’s intense stares didn’t go unnoticed by you either. They were difficult to miss when you could feel his eyes burning into you whenever you stood to applaud his group. It was an intense feeling to know that you were being watched with such disdain, but there wasn’t much you could do. Jay tried to comfort you as much as he could through text messages whenever he was in his green room. 

After one particular performance by your group, you ran into Jay and his members, excitedly congratulating them all with hugs as Sunghoon distanced himself as much as he could. Again, you felt his stern stare, hesitantly turning to him you gave him a thumbs up and a smile.

You figured keeping things civil wouldn’t hurt, despite being annoyed with how he was acting lately. Unsurprisingly, Sunghoon didn’t return the small gesture instead he looked away from you almost entirely.

Yes, you hadn’t expected much from him but it still hurt. You didn’t understand where this hostility came from. The last time you had physically seen Sunghoon he looked like he was on the verge of tears, yet now he stood looking miserable at the thought of your presence. 

The thought hadn’t even been processed in your mind before you were walking toward him, escaping your member's hold on your hand. 

“Sunghoon, can I speak with you?”

EXTENDED NOTE. ok she's not done but I really really struggled with her so I just cut it off here 😔 I promise the next part will be nicer and probably fluffy <3 also jiji I thought I was gonna post this yesterday but I didn't ansorrriiiiii

[xoxo-sarah]

I Wanna Be Yours || Part 5

Part 4 | part 6

↝a/n: I don't want to hear a single thing about the French being wrong. I had to use Google so blame it. Anyway, sorry this is late, been very busy and been stressing.

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Wheeler!reader

↝ Warning: slightly proofread. Possible spoilers, Canon events, Google translated French, pinning

↝⎙ 8.12.23

Robin couldn't help but admire you as you caught your breath.

Writing a decent essay in French wasn't going to be easy, which is why this is the 3rd day in a row Robin had invited you over after school to finish the partnered project.

To be honest, the essay was long forgotten. You two were just going through phrases in French at this point. Well, Robin was teaching you more French. You just couldn't wrap your head around it, no matter how hard you tried.

After you were paying so much attention to her mouth and the way it moved, you couldn't help but find it hilarious, and in turn, Robin began laughing too.

It was probably around 9 by now, and you two had barely any of the paper done, but you kept wanting to hear her talk. For educational purposes, obviously.

“tu es belle.” (you're beautiful) Robin wasn't worried about you knowing what she was saying. It honestly felt freeing to be able to admit things openly, with you not knowing what it was she was saying.

She adored how you looked at her so confused, with your eyebrows furrowed. Her hand was practically shaking from not being able to lean forward and wipe the wrinkled skin away.

“tu es magnifique aujourd'hui" (you look beautiful today) She kept teasing you.

“Are you going to tell me what you're saying?”

“No, I don't think I will.”

You smiled, basking in how comfortable you felt around her at that moment. You wish it could stay like this. Neither of you broke eye contact as she continued, “Tes yeux brillent si joliment aujourd'hui. Le ciel nocturne devrait être jaloux.” (Your eyes are shining so beautifully today. The night sky should be jealous.)

“I should probably pay more attention in class.” You chuckled, looking down at your lap, fiddling with the cover of the notebook. Robin was back to admiring you and your blushing cheeks.

“You're cute.” Robin's smile dropped; her whole being scared of what she just said… out loud…to the person she'd fancied for what felt like forever. She wanted to disappear right then and there.

“What?” You glanced up from your notebook, still smiling- as if you hadn't heard what she had said.

“I said you look like a fruit.” Pushing away the feeling of wanting to kick herself for her stupidity on the situation, the choice of words had her internally spiraling. What kind of answer was that? You certainly do not look anything like a fruit.

“That doesn't even make sense.”

“Well I'm sleep-deprived.” She pulled her blanket closer to her, wrapping it around her body to find any comfort. “And it's tu ressembles à un fruit.”

After a moment, you nodded, before standing up and gathering your stuff. “It's getting late.”

“Yeah-yeah, uh,” She flung the blanket off, standing to help you gather everything sprawled across her bed and floor. “I guess we lost track of time.”

“Yeah.” Flinging your backpack over your shoulder, you pointed at her door. “I can show myself out. You need to be getting ready for bed-wouldn't want to keep you up any later.”

“A-alright. Yeah, bye. Be careful.” She stayed standing in that spot even after you closed her bedroom door.

She was not sleeping tonight; she already knew that much. She'd stay up all night thinking about you. And how you looked when you smiled or laughed. A joyous sight and sound, really.

Your leg shook from nerves.

“Can you stop? You're shaking the car.” Nancy glared at you from the rearview mirror.

Digging your nails into your thigh, you stopped them from shaking anymore. “Sorry.”

Robin glanced back, noting your nervousness. “It's going to be okay.” Her voice was barely over a whisper.

“What if it's not? Two of our friends have already died because of this Vecna creep. We have no way to contact Mike or any of the Byers. What if something is happening up there too? I mean, they should've called by now. Mike promised he would call when he got up there-”

“We haven't been home, y/n.”

“I was! He didn't call all yesterday.”

“He's having fun with his friend and girlfriend. Calm down.”

Robin's eyes went back and forth between you and Nance. You were usually calm, or made it seem that way. Ever since you woke up in a frenzy, you had seemed on edge.

“What if he's not?” You whispered one last time, as Nancy pulled up to the school.

“We don't have time to think about that right now. Come on.”

"It was here. Right here.” Max was almost hysterical as she kept repeating the same thing over and over since you ran into the school. She kept talking about a grandfather clock in the wall.

If you were anyone else, you would be calling her crazy, maybe even making a phone call to the nearest psych ward.

“A grandfather clock?” Nancy almost seemed bored as she asked.

“It was so real and then, when I got closer, suddenly I just… I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a trance or something.” Dusting spoke, “Exactly like Eddie said happened to Chrissy.” A cold hill went down your spine, causing goosebumps to make your arm hair stand up. Folding your arms over your chest, you continued to pay attention.

Max turned around. “That's not even the bad part.”

"Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Miss Kelley for help.” You looked at the files on the desk. “Uh, they both were having headaches-bad headaches that wouldn't go away. And then-then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They'd wake up in a cold sweat. And then they started seeing things. Bad things…from their past.” The desk slowly creaked as you leaned against it, giving Max your full attention. “And these visions-- they just kept getting worse and worse, until eventually…everything ended.” Your eyes shot down to the ground.

What were you to do about all of this? This is too much for this group that consisted of teens and young adults. Before, you had El. But now, she was in California, without any powers.

Robin's voice broke you out of your thoughts that were running a mile a second. “Vecna's curse.”

“Chrissy's headache started a week ago.”

“She kept asking for medicine almost every time I saw her.” She had taken nearly 2/3 of your medicine on your side table.

“Fred's started 6 days ago.” The blood from you biting your lip tasted salty and like metal. “I've been having them for 5 days.”

The air in the room became stale, almost like the air fell flat. “I don't know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock, so,” Max's breath became uneven, “Looks like I'm gonna die tomorrow.”

A loud click made you jump and turned to where the sound came from.

“Stay here.” Steve looked at you guys, before walking towards the door. Before he opened it, he grabbed the lamp.

Not listening, you all stood and walked after him, through the dark school halls.

You could hear his uneven breathing from where you were. Or maybe that was you. You couldn't really tell at this point.

The sound continued as you walked behind Steve. It clattered, almost sounding like rapid running.

It grew louder until something came around the corner. Everyone screamed, Steve held the lamp up, going to strike, as your arms went up in the air, flashlight clattering to the floor as you turned on your heels, going to grab the nearest person. No matter how much you tried to move, your feet stayed in place, causing you to double over and fall onto your knees, bringing the person with you.

“It's me!”

“Lucas?!”

“It's me!” Lucas looked as if he were about to cry. You would too if you had nearly gotten beaten to death by a lamp.

“Holy shit!” You fell back onto your butt, facing the scene.

“Jesus!” Steve yelled, bringing the lamp back down to his side. “What is wrong with you, Sinclair?!”

Lucas tried to catch his breath with his hands on his hips, nearly doubling over. "I'm sorry."

Robin, who you had taken down with you, stood and held her hand out to help you up. You held up your finger, “I need a second.” You might've peed yourself a little.

“I could've taken you out with this lamp!” Steve shook the lamp in his grip, furious.

“Sorry, guys.” Lucas continued to pant, “Sorry. I was… I was biking for eight miles.”

Grabbing Robin's hand, you let her pull you up.

“Give me a second. Shit.” Lucas continued to pant through his words, “We've got a code red.”

“What?”

“Dustin,” He walked forward, “I've been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they've gone, like, totally off the rails. They're trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is.” He spoke as fast as he could, while also trying to breathe. “You're in terrible danger.”

“Alright. Yeah, that definitely sucks, but we've got bigger problems than Jason right now.” Dustin looked back and Max, Lucas following him.

After Nancy and Robin came up with the plan about being Ruth and Rose, your leg went back to shaking, and your teeth went back to biting into your lip, taking chunks out.

While everyone was getting a bit of shut-eye last night, you were wide awake. There wasn't really a thought that took up more space in your head than the other 10 thousand. Every time you tried to shut your eyes, Chrissy's face was painted on the back of your eyelids. Occasionally, you could hear her screams when you tried to tune out Steve's snoring. Max hadn't gone to bed, she stayed sitting at the desk, writing. What, you hadn't gotten a clue.

Currently, Steve was following Nancy after he had been stuck on babysitting duty yet again.

“Nancy, you're outta your mind if you think I'm babysitting again.” Coming out of your room, you pulled the new, clean clothes closer to your body and walked after him into her room.

“Okay, first of all, they're not babies anymore. And Max is in real danger.”

Steve scoffed at her as you plopped on her bed, wrinkling her made bed.

“She needs people around her.”

“I know. But why does it always have to be me?”

“Y/n is here too.” Nancy reminded, pointing at you.

“Oh my god, you have a Tom Cruise poster.” Robin walked into the room, going straight for the poster and side table. “You have a Tom Cruise poster.” She turned and smirked at Nancy, who was going through her closet.

“That's…old. It's just…"

Robin laughed before digging into the table,

“Can you please not touch anything?”

You leaned over, looking at whatever Robin was going through.

“I just- I can't do anything here, Nance. Maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I dunno. I could turn on my…my charm.”

“Not the charm we need.”

“Ouch.”

“No, I just,” Nancy sighed, stepping away from the closet. You followed Robin with your eyes as she stood and moved to the dresser. “I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world. If we're going to win him over, we're gonna have to convince him we are too.”

Robin opened the music box that laid on top of the dresser, music softly played as Nancy continued to talk, softening the blow. “That, like him, we are true academic scholars.”

“Holy shit.” Robin whispered, turning around to show the music box. “There's a little ballerina in here.” She bit her lip.

Looking away, you tried to hide the pink on your cheeks. She was so cute.

Steve began nodding his head, turning back to Nancy. “Academic scholar. She's giving you an academic scholar vibe? Yeah.”

Rolling her eyes, Robin closed the box, putting it back.

“No, but…” Robin scoffed, turning around. “She will.”

Nance held up a pink dress.

“Oh, please tell me that you're joking.”

"They're not answering.”

Sighing, you slammed the phone back into the wall.

“They're probably out.”

“You said that for the last 4 calls. It's been over an hour.”

Dustin walked over, “Y/n, Mike is most likely out having fun with El and Will. Please, calm down.”

“Yeah,” Sighing again, you plopped back into the couch, "Yeah, you're probably right."

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

• My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

[loreleismusings99]

Two Body Problem

Ch 4

[Masterlist]

Qualifying exams are stressful. coming to terms with budding romantic feelings is somehow even more stressful. In which Mark and the reader critique each others' work and a surprising amount of sleep happens.

Thank you for reading! sorry this took so long to get out, I just graduated(can't believe I have a bachelor's degree now omg), and my life has been kind of a whirlwind lately, but I'm glad I was able to get this out. I don't think this is my strongest chapter, but I can move on to other parts of the story now this is done. As always, please let me know of ways I can improve this and if there's anything that should be fixed about this. Tysm, and I hope y'all are having a wonderful holiday season! Happy Perihelion Day!

also, y'all, I am running out of Matt Damon gifs to use for these so if you have any suggestions, please send them to me!

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

God, my back hurts…

You shift under your blanket and grumble at the uncomfortably stiff structure that's currently cradling you. Cracking open an eye, you look around at your surroundings, becoming increasingly familiar as the clouds of sleep part and slowly return your senses to you. Why am I in the living room? Cracking open the other eye, you’re nearly blinded by the morning’s sunlight. Letting out a raspy “ugh…” at the unpleasant stimulus, you turn your head into your blanket again to shield your eyes from the offending ball of ionized hydrogen.

A new piece of sensory information halts your thoughts almost completely when you bury your face in your blanket though; notes of honey with an afterthought of what might be soil flood your senses, layered with something bergamot-y and a mystery spice that gives warmth to the smell. The smell reminds you of your night in the library, labs full of undergrads extracting caffeine from tea leaves, and office hours in the too-cramped grad office in the biosciences building. You remember a hand brushing yours as you both reach for the same homework packet, then mousy blond hair, striking green eyes, and a smattering of freckles.

The realization that your blanket smells like Mark hits you like a freight train and you're suddenly ripped from the clutches of sleep as he fills your senses. You try to find it within you, but you can’t quite locate the discomfort you thought you’d experience being confronted with Mark’s presence--however fleeting and ephemeral-- first thing in the morning. The feelings it stirs within you are… pleasant?? Being enveloped by the earthy scent is calming for whatever reason; like being held, wrapped in a profound sense of home and safety that you rarely have felt in your adult life. He must wear lavender… you think, trying to explain away the state you're in before drifting off again, sleeping in for the first time in a long while.

☆☆☆

“I'm sorry, you did what?!” Mark whirls around, his sandwich still clutched in his left hand while his right is holding his laptop in a precariously loose grip.

Colin rolls his eyes before responding to Mark's dramatic outburst. “Oh please, don't act so scandalized; that's a completely normal and average thing to ask--”

  The door slamming at almost midnight tonight was certainly not on Colin’s bingo sheet for the evening’s events, but it was a harbinger of more unexpected happenings starting with Mark’s sour mood after returning from what should have been an enjoyable get-together with his colleagues in the bioengineering department.

“Sure, yes, normally, but they’re about the least average individual I’ve met up until this point in my life, Colin; you can’t just--” Colin has had a front-row seat to Mark’s gradual descent into denial for almost 6 months at this point. As Mark starts waxing poetic about how inviting you over to do moc quals presentations together would be the single worst decision Colin’s made, he remembers the night he came back from that mixer the two of you met in late spring earlier this year.

“The fucking audacity, how did they get this far being so unprofessional--” Mark tosses his bag onto their shared couch a mere foot away from where Colin was sitting writing up a first draft of the introduction for his thesis proposal on improving science communication with the general public while avoiding misleading sensationalism. Mark storms off into his room before poking his head out the door to say, “Did you know using a switch case to find the number of elements in an array is apparently--” Mark mimes air quotes “‘so clunky that it should be considered a syntax error’? Fucking hell…”

As Mark ducks back into his room grumbling, Colin responds with,“ Mark, I promise you I had no clue… and good evening, why do you look and sound like someone just told you agriculture and botany are the same thing?” Colin waits for Mark’s response as he stomps out of his room, having exchanged his business casual garb for his pajamas, and sulks into their kitchen.

“Oh, no reason. I just had the displeasure of getting publically ridiculed by a EE who wouldn’t know the difference between a spanner and a set of calipers, their head’s so fucking deep in electronics they don’t know how to communicate with other humans.” after grabbing a bottle of lemonade from the fridge, Mark collapses down on the chair to Colin’s left, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

  He has it bad… Colin remembers thinking, as he does now, as he watches Mark run up his blood pressure, postulating about critiques you haven’t even had the chance to make on his quals paper and presentation yet. “Mark… Mark, listen.” Colin says to interrupt his wayward roommate’s self-sabotage. “It’s not that serious. They’re going to come over to get their paper looked at too--actually, they’re presenting the same day as you. They’re coming here with the same level of vulnerability as you. I don’t think they’ll go easy on you, but I don’t think they'd be cruel either.”

Colin waits a couple of seconds before asking,“... what’s their name?” Mark pauses and looks up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eye before saying your name, calmly for the first time since he’s returned home for the evening. Colin and Mark sit in this pause before Mark continues, describing how you were a vision of confidence and poise in your sweater vest, oxfords, and slacks--likely due to unfounded pride, he added after snapping out of his momentary revere. It took everything in Colin’s power not to laugh in Mark’s face every time he tried to explain away every positive thing he noted about you, from your ‘surprising competence in biomechanical design to your managing to land a graduate assistantship in one of the best-funded bio-instrumentation labs in the department.

“How would you know? Hell, they were probably thrilled by the idea of getting to take me down a peg and ruin my faith in my thesis in the process--”

“Well, they certainly seemed eager, but likely not for the reason you think…” Colin responds absent-mindedly as he returns to prepping his presentation materials for their moc quals presentations.

Mark pauses in his nervous pacing and looks finally directly at Colin before asking, “What… exactly did they say? When you asked?”

“My, you’re awfully interested in the minutia of their reactions to you. I wonder why…” Colin postulates slyly, looking up from his computer and smirking.

It takes a few seconds of gear-turning in Mark's head before he finally picks up on what Colin is insinuating before the man in question lets out a guffaw and states, “Absolutely not. No. Impossible, inconceivable--”

“Explain yourself then; you've been emotionally constipated since the day you met them,” Colin crosses his arms before continuing, “You aren't very good at hiding the inner machinations of your head you know, it's written all over in how you act.”

“What I feel for them is probably the farthest thing from affection, they make me sick to my stomach--”

“You sure those aren't just butterflies?--”

“Can you please just answer my question?” Mark sighs in exasperation, and Colin lets out a chuckle before explaining how the events transpired.

“So, I found them in the lab--I think they were soldering something? Honestly, it's beyond what I was willing to ask about so I don't know, but I asked them how they were doing and if they're interested in doing moc quals with us--”

“How do you know where their lab is?”

“I majored in journalism, Mark--I have my methods, don't worry about it. Anyway, they perked up at the mention of moc quals and said that they're about to give their presentation on Friday and that they'd love to have extra practice presenting to people who would ask similar questions to what their committee would ask them. They even mentioned that, quote,‘ despite your likely lack of appreciation for their work, your opinions would be useful,’ end-quote.” Colin utters the last sentence with a chuckle.

Mark opens his mouth to say to retort before he's interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.

Mark looks up at the door and then frantically around the apartment, looking at the mess of dishes he had left from his dinner yesterday before uttering a soft “shit!”, tossing his computer onto the couch next to Colin, and holding his sandwich in his mouth as he picks up his dishes and runs them into the kitchen. “You didn’t say they’d be here now!!” Mark yells from behind the divider wall that separates the kitchen from the living/dining room area, hiding dirty dishes in a panicked frenzy as Colin gets up to let you in.

“You didn’t let me get that far before you started questioning me--Hi there, welcome in!” Colin calls over his shoulder before greeting you and stepping to the side of the open door to let you into his and Mark’s shared space.

“Hey, thanks for inviting… me…” You look around like this is the first time you've seen a room before saying“Wow, you two have a nice place” with what looks like a sparkle of awe in your eyes.

“Thanks,” Mark finally decides to pipe up after exiting the kitchen and leaning against the wall. “Sorry for the mess though, I didn't know we were going to have company.” Mark forces through a fake smile as he looks over to Colin with thinly veiled, panicked irritation.

“Ah, so the clutter and dirty dishes aren't a half-baked preparation strategy?” You jest, dawning a coy smirk before turning to Colin and asking, “Shoes on or off?”

Colin's barely able to get in an ‘either is fine’ before Mark rebuts with, “You wound me with how much you underestimate my very complex plan to distract you.” Colin almost sprains an ocular muscle rolling his eyes at Mark's attempt to play it cool after nearly having an aneurysm about you coming over as the man in question ducks back behind the false wall before saying, “I'm making Pizza Bagel Bites for us.” There's a short pause before Mark pokes his head around the wall to regard you again before asking, “Do you like Bagel Bites?”

“Yeah, Bagel Bites are fine.”

“Are you sure? I can make something else if you want; we also have hot pockets, an actual frozen pizza, and we might have some leftover soup from Thanksgiving too--”

You rest a hand on your hip and sit into it before asking, with a huff, “Mark, honestly l, anything is fine; are we going to do this or are you afraid my presentation's going to be better than yours?”

At this point, Colin has sat back down on their couch and is having the time of his life watching what's unfolding before him. He looks over to the kitchen where Mark is still hidden and listens as he hears a clamoring commotion of a pan being filled with frozen Bagel Bites and the furious beeps of the oven turning on to pre-heat before he rushes out of the kitchen, picks up his laptop, sits down, and opens it.

Mark dawns a haughty smirk and a competitive gleam sparks in his eyes as he says, typing away on his computer, “Oh, you have no idea the magnitude of scrutiny you've just unleashed upon your work…”

You let out a huff of a laugh before saying, “I expect nothing less” and opening up your laptop and sharing with the two of them your paper and presentation as the lot of you get started on your moc reviews.

The process is fairly simple: one of you presents while the other two act as your panel committee, asking questions, and making suggestions at the end of your presentation. Colin goes first, presenting his findings from his literature review of surveys and short-term studies of the efficacy of popular science news and the need for more long-term studies. This is something he's practiced hundreds of times, so the questions you throw at him aren't surprising--though, he is quite taken aback by how well-versed you are in pedagogical techniques in science communication and makes a note to pick your brain about your experience later.

You go next, Mark having half-offered half-volunteered you to go next, he's probably still trying to calm his nerves, Colin thinks as he watches Mark shift awkwardly in his seat while you stand from your spot on the couch next to him after setting up your presentation on your computer. Colin tries his best to focus on the lovely presentation on flexible electronics and their use in vitals monitoring, but he can’t help but be distracted by Mark's increasingly adorable investment in your presentation, actively listening and asking questions but with a faraway look in his eyes as he gazes at you with what can only be described as adoration as you passionately expound upon the process of medication release in implantable medical sensing devices. You finish your presentation and Mark enthusiastically jumps up to present last, evidently forgetting his nerves from earlier and diving straight into the complexities of irrigation and sustainable crop cultivation in extreme environments. Colin takes note of the understated excitement you exhibit at Mark's passion for his field, so reserved that he almost missed the way you attempted to block a blush and giggle at his peculiar use of casual, nearly comical lexicon in a presentation meant to convince the academics at the top of the botany ivory tower to give him a chance at becoming a professional scientist.

After presenting you all went over the notes you made on each other's presentations, discussing why certain word choice decisions were made, how each of you dealt with being confronted with A gap in your knowledge, et cetera. Mark was chewing on the end of a red pen while looking over the notes and suggestions you provided for his presentation before making a face and asking, “What’s wrong with my wording here? I think this is a perfectly valid term to describe nutrient uptake efficiency in--”

“Mark, do I need to tell you why you can’t say ‘slorp’ in a Ph.D. qualification oral exam?” You look up from your paper, now marked up with notes from Mark and Colin, and look pointedly at Mark, your mouth quirked into a poorly concealed smirk. Mark starts falling over his words trying to explain his reasoning--or lack thereof--while failing at holding back enthusiastic laughter.

Mark turns to Colin and asks, “Well, what do you think--do you see the academic value of using slorp in a presentation?”

Colin rests a hand gently on Mark’s shoulder before responding. “Mark, my dearest friend, I absolutely do not,” Colin says through bouts of laughter and it puts you in stitches next to Mark, laughing so hard that the only noise you can make is a high-pitched wheeze as you’re doubled over by your glee.

Mark dramatically clutches his shirt right over his heart and says, “Et tu, Brute??” before succumbing to his laughter.

☆☆☆

The empty chair to your right buzzes with the vibrations your restless leg sends through the floor as you await the panel's decision on whether or not you need to reconsider your place in the Ph.D. program. Every time you try to listen in on the conversation your advisor and mentors are having in the room behind you, Hana gently squeezes your hand to remind you to at least try not to obsess about your presentation. It's done now, the ball's in their court. All you can do now is wait and try not to send your blood pressure through the roof.

I think that went alright…you think, threading your fingers between Hana's in an attempt to ground yourself. I answered all of their questions correctly… I think. They didn't say so if I didn't; would they have done that? Fuck, what if they just decided to say nothing-

The door to Hana’s and your left opens suddenly to reveal your advisor, Dr. Ameer, poking his bald and bespectacled head out from behind the door before stepping out and standing to his full height, imposing from your current seated perspective.

He looks down at you for a moment before smiling proudly and holding out his hand. “Congratulations!” You take his hand and shake it feeling like the air got kicked out of your chest, only able to let out a breathless squeeze of a ‘thank you’ that your advisor lightly laughs at. “Excellent treatment of the current gap in the literature on the use of implantables for tissue regeneration for rehabilitative purposes in particular--it makes a great start to a thesis project.” He states, taking off his reading glasses.

You nod and say another “thank you,” stronger this time now that your tensed muscles have finally relaxed and Hana's got you wrapped up in a sideways hug. “I'll make sure to, uhm, send you my availability for the next week so we can discuss how I did and how I can improve. We should also start to discuss my thesis--where to start, what we're capable of doing, et cetera.”

“Absolutely. Don't forget to celebrate too, though. You work hard, you deserve the rest.” He says, sitting down in the chair to your right.

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Hana says, clapping you on the shoulder, “I'll make sure they have at least a little fun within the next 24 hours.”

“Thank you for your work keeping them sane.” Dr. Ameer says through a laugh.

“Is this an intervention?” you ask, looking back and forth at the two of them as they both guffaw at your bafflement.

“Alright,” Dr. Ameer starts, standing back up before saying, “Congratulations again, I'll see you on Monday.”

“Thank you, and see you then.” You respond, allowing yourself to finally smile with a gleam of pride in your eyes as he nods and walks off, presumably to his office.

You wait until you know he's out of earshot before bellowing out a, “Thank fucking God…” as Hana squeals, shaking your shoulders in pent-up excitement.

“Hey, don't act like you didn't nail it in there, I heard you, you were great!! Oozing confidence and academic splendor!” Hana responds, dramatically clutching a fist over her heart. “We have to celebrate properly tonight; maybe drinks and dinner at my place--”

“Please don't make it a big thing, it's not like I just defended my thesis,” you say through an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, but we're at least inviting over Colin and Mark--they just passed their quals too.”

An Incredulous and confused look twists your face when you ask, “How do you know? I thought they were presenting just now too?”

“Trivia night people have a group chat--here, look” Hana takes out her phone and shows you a text from Colin with a picture of him smiling with his arm around what looks like Mark, his head tilted back in relief while Colin ruffles his hair.

Your eyes linger on Mark's neck a little too long before you pull your gaze away and clear your throat, saying, “I see.”

“Hey,” Hana says, putting a hand on your shoulder, “we don't have to invite them, or anyone for that matter, especially if they'll make you uncomfortable.”

“No no, thank you, uhm, there's nothing wrong with that. If anything, I probably owe the two of them a thank you, we presented to each other and they both offered some awesome suggestions that I wouldn’t’ve thought of otherwise.”

Hana regards you silently for a moment, eyes narrowing before they widen in shock as she says, “No fucking way.”

“… What?”

“I mean, the two of you becoming civil with each other finally was to be expected, but I never would've thought--”

“Oh,” you say rolling your eyes as you go to stand up, “Okay, I see where this is going--”

“So I'm right then?” Hana grabs her bag and goes to follow you.

“Absolutely not.”

“You were just gazing longingly at Mark!”

“I do not gaze at him,” you wheeze out with a laugh as you push open the doors to the Tech building.

“Okay, so why did you just freeze right now? I refuse to believe it was a nondescript brain fart and you just so happened to zone out looking at Mark's trachea--” Hana finishes her sentence in a whisper to not attract the attention of the undergrads walking past them in the courtyard.

You whip around to look Hana in the eye as you whisper-yell, “What I feel for Mark is the farthest thing from attraction, I can't possibly think of a world where he would inspire anything other than disgust--”

“Denial is a river in Egypt, my friend, and we are in the midwest--”

“God, I can't believe you--” You whirl back around and start walking off in the direction of your apartment.

“I'm inviting them over, and be at mine by 5!!” Hana shouts at your retreating form and you throw up a thumbs up to show your acknowledgment.

  Your mind wanders on your way back home; you remember eating a Pizza Bagel during your moc quals with Colin and Mark, the latter suddenly saying, “Wait! Hold still” causing you to freeze in your tracks and your eyes to widen into saucers, thinking a bug or something crawled onto you. He reaches over and gently swipes a thumb across the corner of your mouth before saying“ Rogue pizza sauce” before moving on to the next thing that caught his attention. You're still frozen in place, trying to process what just happened, when Mark absentmindedly licks the tomato sauce off his thumb like he forgot that that was just on your face and not his. Now, something like this usually wouldn’t surprise you--especially given Mark's tendency to forget the simplest of things--but for whatever reason your brain short-circuited; at a complete loss for words, for once in your life not a single thought crossed your mind--just complete radio silence and a faint fluttering feeling in your chest. You didn't notice it at the time, perhaps because you didn't want to, but that fluttering felt different than you expected. You wanted to feel a flush of anger wash over you at his invasion of your personal space but all you could muster was the nauseating fondness you felt that night he walked you home after trivia night.

This realization makes your face twist into a scowl. “Shit…” you say, burying your face deep into your coat.

  When you enter Hana’s apartment building, the weight and warmth from your jacket and the building hallway make your skin prickle with sweat. You unzip your jacket and tug a little on your turtleneck’s collar before knocking on her door. A muffled “Hold on!” sounds from behind the door before Hana flings the door open a few seconds later. “Come on in!” she hurries you in while carrying a pan of what looks like an attempt at caramelizing… something?

You take off your shoes and place them on the small rack set up next to the front door before hanging up your coat next to Hana’s on a nearby coat hook. “What are you making?” you question, the medley of smells hitting your nose almost making your eyes water.

“Chicken parm--assuming I'm doing this right,” says over her shoulder while rushing back into her kitchenette, trying not to spill the contents of the very hot pot on her person.

“Hana, I'm not sure if you're supposed to caramelize anything in a chicken parmesan dish?” you follow her timidly into the kitchen, not entirely sure you want to bear witness to what she is concocting.

“You’ve gotta have more faith in my process,” Hana says confidently over her shoulder right before the pan on the stove in front of her bursts into flame. There's a brief scramble As the two of you try to put out the fire, eventually being left with a charred mess sitting in the pan with the two of you staring at it blankly.

“... Portillo's?”

“Yeah,” you respond with a light huff.

  You're drying off and putting away dishes as Hana passes them to you after giving them a thorough scrubbing to get off the char from her attempt at cooking dinner. After about two minutes of this Hana puts down the dish she's working on and huffs before saying, “I'm putting on some music, any requests?”

You pause and think for a moment before answering, “Um… I don't know; What've you been listening to lately?”

“This is gonna sound kind of weird, but I've been on a bit of an ABBA kick lately.” She says, drying her hands off before retrieving her phone from the front pocket of her ‘That's not Burnt, that's Flavor’ apron.

“Knowing you, that's not weird at all.” You deadpan before the two of you let out a stream of giggles. Hana taps away at her phone for a couple of seconds, and Chiquitita starts playing from a speaker on the far side of the kitchen to your left. “Oo, that's a good one.”

“Darling, they're all good ones,” Hana says through a playful smirk, making you laugh. The rest of the otherwise boring task goes by much more slowly but more enjoyably with the two of you intermittently stopping to sing along at the top of your lungs with whatever song caught your collective attention, Hana occasionally using whatever cooking utensil was within her grasp as an impromptu fake-microphone. She's in the middle of a surprisingly impressive belt during Lay All Your Love on Me when a confident knocking echoes through the apartment. “Ope, is that them?” she inquires in a suddenly quieter voice with what you detect as a hint of bashfulness--possibly at the prospect of being heard through the door. She briefly checks her phone while you dry the last plate and put it away. “Yep!” she says before doffing her apron and nearly prancing to her front door.

You turn around and open up a cupboard to put away the plate you're holding, but as you reach up you feel a pair of eyes on your back. You close the cabinet door and whirl around only to be met with a pair of infuriatingly disarming green eyes. In your periphery, you can see Mark’s shoulders pitch up slightly before a toothy smile blooms across his face, catching you off guard with the sincerity of it. You clumsily return his smile before congratulating him before dawning a defensive smirk and saying, “I’m glad our corrections weren’t ignored” jokingly implying that was the only thing stopping him from failing.

A grimace distorts Mark’s smile before he opens his mouth to speak, pausing for a second before finally letting out a laugh and saying, “I was about to say that I had to because Botany isn’t exactly as easy as what you do, but saying something is only biomedical sensor engineering doesn’t exactly have the punch I ‘m looking for.” He and Colin take off their shoes and you and Mark close the distance between the two of you before he continues. “Glad to hear you passed too--what is that smell, is something burning?” Mark interrupts himself, halfway through crossing his arms when he finally catches a whiff of the residual char in the air from Hana’s cooking.

“That would be the aftermath of Hana’s attempt at cooking; don’t worry, we called Portillos as soon as the pan lit on fire.” You quickly add after seeing the color drain a bit from Mark’s cheeks.

You wonder if they’ve always been that rosy before he frantically looks between you and Hana and asks, “You lit a pan on fire?!”

“Only a little bit, we put it out quickly--the alarm didn’t even go off.” Hana dismisses Mark’s worry with a wave of her hand while walking over to her speaker to turn its volume down.

“That’s a shame, we could’ve roasted non-stick flavored marshmallows,” Colin jests from his spot at Hana’s kitchen island before she sticks her tongue out at him, sending the lot of you into a laughing fit. “Well, what do we want to do until the dogs get here?”

Hana pauses to think for a second before ducking to rifle through a set of board and card games she keeps under her living room speaker and reemerges with a small red box. “‘We’re Not Really Strangers’?” she punctuates her question by lightly shaking the box, “I’ve got a few packs mixed in here, so we shouldn’t get any repeats if we’re waiting a while.”

Colin responds in the affirmative before enthusiastically walking over to her couch and plopping down with a ‘whoomph.’ Mark shifts next to you before stating in an almost whisper, “This ought to be interesting.” The two of you look at each other and you scan his face, taking in the mirth evident in his lightly freckled face and you lightly nudge him with a wheeze of a laugh before walking over to get a seat at Hana’s coffee table.

  How can one person be so fucking warm?? You internally hiss to yourself while sitting next to Mark. The two of you still have about an inch of separation between the two of you but even so, you feel like the warmth radiating off his body is smothering you in a calm you’re trying to steel yourself against. You’re sitting in a half-crisscross position with your leg resting on top of your foot now to make it harder for you to subconsciously inch closer to Mark to try to remedy the ever-present chill that usually plagues you--with what appears to be little success considering the two of you stared out on this couch with about 6 inches of space between the two of you. Mark guffaws heartily at Hana’s answer to the card Colin just pulled and you can feel the seat shake with his laughter, the proximity of his person to yours making your heart ache dully. This is miserable, I’m miserable, why is this happening, why me? Why him?? You wonder to yourself with a slightly pained smile and chuckle while Hana pulls a card from the pile in the center of the table.

“Let’s see--ough, I hate this one; ‘What are your plans for the future?’ survive this Ph.D.” Hana immediately answers with a wheeze of a laugh putting the card in the discard pile.

“Honestly, same--I’m just glad my quals are done so I can focus my time and energy on research,” Colin answers before taking a sip of his water and looking to Mark for his answer.

“Alright, are we talking about, like, the next five years or more of what my endgame is for what I want to do with my life? Because I wouldn’t be able to securely pin that down if my life depended on it.” Mark laughs after Hana tells him to say whatever he has an answer for. He pauses for a moment before continuing. “Well,” he begins, crossing his arms, looking up at the ceiling, and slightly adjusting his position, spreading his legs slightly; it takes every ounce of willpower in every atom of your body not to look down at his legs as he does so. “I’m planning on submitting to the NASA GSRP soon, so, assuming I get awarded it, I’ll be working more with botanists at Kennedy Space Center to develop cultivation experiments for the ARES missions--If they ever happen at all.” Mark finishes with a scoff, making you frown. With the tumultuous nature of how government is run, it's becoming increasingly difficult to gauge if there’ll be funding for ambitious space missions like the budding ARES program. Mark abruptly turns to you--itching to turn the attention away from himself--and asks, “What about you?”

You’re given pause by the way Mark abruptly changes the subject, but answer anyway. “Oh, um, I’m headed to Pasadena in the spring; I’m working with one of the engineers there on electronics for a Lunar water surveyor--seems like we’re both NASA-bound. You’ll have to tell me more about the project you’re submitting for, it seems interesting--we might even be able to collaborate a little bit, depending on how far my work on this surveyor goes.”

You end your answer with a coy smirk and for a flash of a second, you could've sworn you saw Mark’s eyes briefly cast downwards to your lips before rocketing back up to meet yours. No, that can’t be possible. God, I’m losing it-- you think to yourself before the man in question interrupts your internal agonizing. “Oh, so you think I’m good enough to get the fellowship?” He inquires with a jesting tone, ducking his head to look up at you through his eyelashes, his vermillion eyes scrutinizing you through the varying shades of blond and brown.

You look at him incredulously and answer before thinking better of voicing your knee-jerk reaction, “Of course; I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” The realization of what you said hits you like a ton of bricks flying at you at Mach 1 as you see Mark’s cheeks flush. Again with the rosy cheeks? Did I make him uncomfortable? Was that too much? Shit, does he think I like him now? Fuck--

“Ah, well, I’ve got nothing to worry about then--if even you think I could do it.” Mark laughs and claps a hand on your shoulder, making you let out a huff and a chuckle in relief at his jovial tone, thinking you’ve narrowly escaped being found out.

“Alright, enough work talk--” Colin captures your attention after letting out a light chuckle and motions for you to pick up a card. “Your turn, Inspector Gadget.”

You lightly chortle before reaching over to pick a card up from the top of the pile of unused cards. “‘Do you think I’m a good kisser?’ Hana, I thought you said these were from the friendship pack???” The whole table bursts into laughter while Hana chokes out a confirmation that it is indeed from the friendship pack. “Alright, out with it, what are your verdicts?” you ask through an exasperated sigh.

“Honestly, I think you’d be a great kisser, remember when we visited Vanessa’s mom in Vegas and you somehow tied two cherry stems with your tongue? While drunk no less--” Hana interrupts herself with her own laughter as you choke on the water you’re drinking at the mention of that night.

“Fuck, I forgot about that!” you cough out. “If it means anything, I had to use my teeth for most of that--I was afraid I was going to swallow the things both times,” you confess with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t know how good of an indicator that is; one of my exes also could tie a cherry stem with his tongue, but the first time we kissed he practically shoved his tongue down my throat.” Colin weighed in with a scoff before continuing, “What do you think Mark?”

Mark pauses for a moment and in that calm, you notice that he’s draped his arm over the seat cushion behind you. In an unexpected wave of wreckless confidence--at least, that’s what you’d call it--you decide to lean back into his arm, immediately relishing in how warm he is. He considers you for a moment, a surprised look on his face before answering, “Honestly I feel like you could go either way; either you’re a mind-numbingly great, or criminally terrible, no in-between” Hana and Colin break into a side-splitting laugh and you ask him to please explain what his reasoning is behind that answer. “You… you--” Mark interrupts his sentence with a breathy laugh, looking up and away from you before continuing. “Alright, look, you… have a lot of surprising things about you and they’re all, like extremes--”

“Yeah???” you interject, your face contorted into an incredulous smirk.

“Yes, let me finish--”

“Please do--”

“So, I think it would be one of those things that you’re, like, inexplicably good at for no fucking reason, or you’d exceed my expectations and be worse than I thought you’d be.” He finishes, barely able to hold back his chortles.

“And what exactly were your expectations?” you ask, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at the revelation that he’s thought about kissing you before. You try your best to stamp out those thoughts before your infuriatingly lovesick brain can indulge in them, thinking God, I’m hopeless. Mark pauses for a second, looking at you apprehensively. You can feel his arm shift on the cushion behind you as he agonizes about whether or not to tell you. “...Mark--”

“That you’d be kind of mid--” he admits with a grimace.

“WOW!” you exclaim, laughing like you just got the air punched out of you. “The amount of confidence you have in me is truly inspiring--is there anything you think I do well?”

“Piss me off--” The four of you lose your minds with laughter; you go to grip your leg to brace yourself against but accidentally slap your hand against Mark’s. The muscles in his leg tense and you freeze. You feel like you should--no, have to--move your hand but for whatever reason the signals your brain is sending to your arm are getting lost in transit, leaving your hand planted steadfastly on top of his quadricep. A spark of surprise flashes through his eyes for a moment before he moves his hand to grasp at yours, still resting on his leg. “You do that perfectly--”

“Fuck off,” you draw your hand out of his grasp, laughing to yourself and unable to look him in the eye.

☆☆☆

After your Portillos arrive you all dig in, opting to put your card game away in favor of watching a Seinfeld rerun while you all eat. Mark tries to focus on his hot dog to get the memory of how your hand felt on his leg out of his mind. I suppose that’s my fault for not noticing how close we were getting. Did they want that? Why did I want that?? Fuck, I hope I didn’t make them uncomfortable-- Mark takes a deep breath after swallowing a mouthful of hot dog to try to calm his racing thoughts. He feels a pair of eyes on him while he zones out watching the TV and turns his gaze in your direction. You stare back at him with an indiscernible expression before asking, “You okay?”

He smiles and nods, trying not to let his inner turmoil show, “Yeah, I’m good--just starting to get a little tired.” At least that much was true; the fatigue of the past couple weeks of preparation for his quals had decided to dump itself on him now that the adrenaline of the whole ordeal had dissipated. You hum and nod before patting him on the back, an alarmingly comforting gesture that Mark didn’t expect to appreciate as much as he did. The four of you continued to watch Seinfeld until he could feel his eyelids begin to droop. Shit, he thought, I can’t be this tired right now, I still need to get home-- His train of thought is interrupted when he feels you slump against his shoulder gently. He looks down at your now asleep form and huffs out a silent laugh, finding you asleep for a second time that week. He looks up to Colin and Hana, who both seem to be engrossed in the exploits of George and Jerry, before he decides to rest his eyes for a second as well, thinking there wasn’t any harm in taking a moment to rest for once. Mark nods off before he can hear Hana and Colin snicker to themselves.

===

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[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Tis the Damn Season

Day 9: Coddle

AO3

Coddle

He and Cooper were planning their escape. Y hey both desperately had to get out of this house. Two days of being home and he already felt smothered. Their only refuge was sleep.

Pam Anderson had the best intentions at heart. She missed her boys. But they were fed up. Literally. She kept feeding them.

So the only solution the two brothers could think of was going out to dinner. Mom couldn’t feed them before going and wouldn’t have a meal ready for them when they returned. Cooper booked them a table for two at a local restaurant and Blaine was very much looking forward to it.

Goodbye coddling at least for one night.

It was a Tuesday night so the place wasn’t terribly busy. They were sitting in the main dining room.

“So how’s school really?” Cooper asked while browsing the cocktail menu.

Blaine had given his parents the basic answer. He loved the city, all his classes (expect tap) had exceeded his expectations. Both of which were true.

“It’s good, Coop. It’s nerve wracking too. Feels like my whole future depends on the skills I learned there.”

“Well, you know I didn’t even get a degree and I turned out fine.”

Which was true. Right out of high school, Cooper took off to LA, moved in with a group of strangers and started auditioning his ass off til he could afford his share of rent. Now, almost 8 years later, he had starred in several country-wide commercials, been an extra in some hot television shows (Cooper was particularly proud of his role as corpse number 2 in NCIS), and had just auditioned for a supporting role in a major motion picture.

“You’ll be great, Blaine, give yourself some credit. You were the lead singer of the Warblers for 4 years. It’s unheard of for a freshman to get that spot. NYADA knows what they’re doing. They have a 90% placement. You’ll get a job. You’ll get Broadway. Mom, Dad, and I will be sitting front row on your opening night.”

Blaine was about to say thank you when their waitress asked what they’d like to drink. Cooper ordered some speciality holiday cocktail and Blaine stuck to water. He had offered to drive them in case Cooper got a little too tipsy tonight.

Cooper had said that was the best part of being an older brother. This short window of time between driving age and drinking age. He was guaranteed a designated driver. But the downside was only being able to take advantage of it when they were in the same city.

It was after ordering his meal, Cooper was flirting with the waitress, when Blaine spotted him.

[jungkookslipring]

“I Can’t Sleep”

TW: mentions of depression, anxiety, drinking, and insomnia, read at your own risk.

AN: this was what I went through my senior year of college.

It was understandable what you were going through, it just sucked. You were in your fourth and final year of college, graduation was 2 months away, you were taking way too many credits even though your advisor told you not to. You would just rather take the remaining credits spring quarter because you knew you did not have the energy to take 5 credits for 6 weeks in June and July. In a way, you did this to yourself, but you didn’t realize how hard it would be, and you didn’t realize the toll it would have on your body.

This crazy schedule started affecting your health. It started off with not getting enough sleep, maybe 6 hours, then it dropped to 5, then it dropped to 4, and you were LUCKY if you got 4 hours of sleep. Soon, you were pulling all nighters, some nights by choice, some not. There was nothing a coffee or two couldn’t fix. Then you went from having one to two cups of coffee a day to three, sometimes throwing in a redbull in the mix. It didn’t help that you also drank to cope with stress, so mixing all these drinks in the span of 12 hours definitely didn’t do you any favors. Not to mention you had anxiety and depression. It was just a cluster fuck.

It got so bad to where you started experiencing sleep paralysis and occasionally waking up having panic attacks, even when you were half asleep. It was hell. Your senior year was complete hell. You had no desire to keep pursuing school even though graduation was just around the corner.

It was hard to open up to the guys about it. They had their own problems, and you didn’t want to burden them. Chan was the one with insomnia so you especially didn’t want to whine to him about your lack of sleep.

One night, you woke up having yet another panic attack. You got on your knees as you gripped your pillow and your chest. You took in sharp inhales, desperately trying to get air into your lungs. This was the 3rd night in a row you woke up sometime in the middle of the night, completely disoriented and not being able to breathe. It hurt your chest as you did everything in your power to get the oxygen flowing. After a solid maybe 30 seconds which always felt like hours, you were able to get your breathing somewhat regulated. You took in deep breaths as you placed a hand over your heart. How much longer did you have to go through this? What if this is permanent? You’ve never gone a year in your life without education. What if when you graduate you’ll continue waking up panicking from all the stress? You were pulled out of your thoughts when there was a quiet knock at the door. You looked at your clock and saw it was 3 am.

Great, I woke up one of the guys, you huffed to yourself.

You got out of bed and walked over to your door. When you opened it, there stood Bang Chan, who had concern written all over his face. Guilt swirled in your chest realizing you probably woke him up, the one and only time he was going to sleep. You started apologizing at mach 20.

“I’m so sorry if I woke you up I’m really s-” you rambled before he gently cut you off.

“Woah woah woah slow down you didn’t wake me up, I just got home,” he said pointing to his laptop that was still hanging on his shoulder. Relief warmed your chest but unfortunately sprung tears to your eyes. Bang Chan’s eyes widened as he set down his lap top, never breaking eye contact.

“Hey hey what wrong bug?” he asked as he put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You covered your eyes as you bit your lip, attempting to swallow the sob that was making its way up your throat.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I just heard a slight bit of commotion in your room and wanted to check in on you,” he said gently. You couldn’t keep your emotions at bay as a sob ripped out of your throat. Bang Chan pulled you into his arms as he walked you further into your room and closed your door. You buried your face in his shoulders as your body wracked with sobs, releasing the built up tension from the past few months.

“I’m here y/n, I’m right here,” he whispers into you ear as you hiccuped in his hold.

His fingers slide up and down the back of your neck softly as he rubbed the small of your back with his thumb. You continued to cry as Chan held you in his arms, alternating between rubbing your back and neck, while at the same time dropping small kisses on the side of your temple.

“I don’t think I’m okay Channie…” you whimpered. Bang Chan continued with his actions as he let you spill your heart out.

“I haven’t been able to sleep well and I k-keep waking up having p-anic attacks and I- I’m so t-tired and I’m s-scared its always gonna b-be this way and I d-don’t know what to do,” you wailed as your grip on his sweatshirt tightened.

“Shhh shhh shhh breathe sweet girl, breathe for me,” he said gently. He took one of your hands and placed it on his heart. He kept his own hand over yours and used his other hand to cradle the back of your head. He guided you through breathing exercises until yor heartbeat was regular again. You were so exhausted. He continued to hold you securly in his arms, gently swaying you back and forth. You were beyond lucky to have him and the rest of the guys. Without stopping his actions, he began to speak again.

“Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep? I can stay with you if you’d like,” he suggested. You decided to let go of your pride and nod. He kissed your forehead before leading you to your bed. He took off his hat, placing it on your nightstand, and helped you get under the covers. He opened his arms as you snuggled right into his chest. His hand made its way into your hair as he threaded his fingers from the base to the ends. The soft touches were lulling you to sleep, and before you could slip into dreamland, Chan began to speak.

“We don’t have to talk about it now, but if you ever need to, I’ll always be here, we all will, I promise,” he whispered before leaning down to kiss your cheek. You smile and bury yourself even deeper in his chest.

“Thank you Channie,” you croak out. He held you close to him, continuing to play with your hair. After some time, you were able to fall asleep, and not too long after, Channie did the same.

[bestworstcase]

How much of Ironwood's decision making do you think is informed by his semblance? Or is it a non-factor?

ooh this one is fun because i don’t agree with ✨any✨ of the common takes that i’ve seen across the spectrum from “mettle is auto-brainwashing” to “mettle is just the trigger he pulls on a gun”

and i need to preface by saying that i have adhd, and i experience EXTREME hyperfocus. extreme like i work from home and enjoy my job so i accidentally pull 14-16 hour days about 2-4 times a month because i’ll get going on a task after lunch and blink and it’s four in the morning. extreme like before i went on meds i needed to set alarms for mealtimes to avoid starving myself to death and that still only worked half the time. extreme like i have to be careful about reading books because i will not stop reading until i’m finished and very long books can prevent me from sleeping multiple nights in a row.

that said i do not and have never experienced hyperfocus as involuntary. i am always surprised by how much time has elapsed, because it never feels like more than maybe half an hour tops and it is always actually more like 10+, but for me hyperfocus is preceded by about 15-20 minutes of normal focus during which i’m fully aware of what my brain is doing and am able to step away if the thing i’m doing isn’t something i want to sink the rest of my day on.

it’s both a fairly debilitating symptom and something that i make a deliberate choice to do for a variety of reasons that are not especially important here. there is risk-benefit analysis involved.

this is basically how i think mettle works, with the sole difference being that hyperfocus requires a specific kind of trigger [complex high-interest tasks] and mettle does not, so ironwood can induce this state at will for any task. besides that, my interpretation of mettle is that it’s deep hyperfocus on a particular task, lasting anywhere from a couple minutes (for very short-term goals) to an entire day but averaging around 8-10 hours at a time for anything involved (paperwork, strategizing), possible to interrupt with difficulty, and involving a mildly altered state of consciousness in the form of a dramatic reduction in sensory and temporal processing i.e. no perception of time passing and inability to perceive sensations like hunger, fatigue, discomfort, people talking to you without getting your attention first, and so forth. it does not cause changes in personality or cognitive function, nor inhibit decision-making except insofar as it takes conscious effort to step away from the task.

mettle as described is “like an iron resolve […] that powers him to [keep going], almost like a very stubbornly, narrow focused mindset on things […] to push himself to do what he’s decided he’s gonna do” or to “push himself through something like searing the flesh off your arm, like if this is the goal he needs to accomplish, everything else goes by the wayside.” and for some inexplicable reason this has been widely interpreted to mean that mettle is a switch ironwood can flip to make himself willing to kill people. no! mettle is how he’s able to flay and cauterize his own arm to escape watts’ trap! mettle is how ironwood keeps himself awake and lucid for a solid forty-eight hours after his fucking arm gets amputated! mettle is why he’s composed and reasonable at the top of volume seven and gradually unravels into an unhinged frazzled lunatic over the months that follow because he’s using his semblance to force himself past the limits of what his body is physically able to endure.

ironwood is a soldier born and raised and indoctrinated into a military state that never quite escaped its prewar fascism. he was always perfectly willing and able to kill people at the slightest justification—“if you were one of my men i would have you shot” was, um, not a joke. that’s who he is. that’s what atlas molded him into, same as it molded clover and harriet and elm and vine and marrow and winter and goddamn near everybody else it touched who didn’t have the means to get out.

mettle didn’t turn ironwood into a murderer—atlas did.

but hyperfocus is not a healthy superpower, ok? it feels fucking great to effortlessly glide through a week’s worth of work in a single afternoon but you have to balance that against the physiological and psychological toll that will take if you try to make that your normal. it’s a day of absolute peak performance and then a crash, and you have to be able to crash. you HAVE to let yourself rest. hyperfocus feels like infinite energy and that feeling is a lie your brain tells you after unplugging all the early warning systems so that your body can’t interrupt you with petty things like hunger or pain, and you HAVE to remember that.

ironwood goes off the fucking rails in volume eight because he believes that lie. he desperately needs to eat and sleep and take it easy while his body recuperates from losing an arm, but mettle can make all of that pain and exhaustion fade away—only it doesn’t actually. the physiological need is still there, getting worse for every minute he spends neglecting it. all through volume seven it’s building up and up until it hits a critical mass after he flays his arm and his cognitive functioning just fucking implodes because his brain physically does not have what it needs to work correctly anymore and the result is this sudden explosion of acute irrationality and emotional lability that just keeps rapidly getting worse and worse and worse because ironwood keeps trying to brute force his way through it with mettle.

i have done this. it sucks. for me the stakes were high school so it mostly looked like a prolonged meltdown and some screaming fights over college applications, but the underlying psychological mechanism driving ironwood’s dramatic tailspin is exactly hyperfocus run amok. in its worst extremity unmanaged hyperfocus is just a horribly destructive and insidious form of self-harm and it will make you completely fucking batshit until you stop.

[4townie]

Road to 4☆TOWN

It was nearly 11pm. The boys sat around the tour bus impatiently, Taeyoung asleep in T’s lap.

“Courtney,” Robaire whined, “are we there yet?”

Courtney sighed. “We should be at the hotel in another ten or fifteen minutes.”

T, Z, and Robaire all groaned.

“We’ve been sitting here for hours.” T complained. “I can’t sit still much longer.”

“And my neck can’t take sleeping on this window much longer.” Z rubbed his neck.

Courtney glared at them. “Why can’t you just be quiet like Jesse? He’s behaving?”

“He’s sulking.” Robaire glanced at Jesse, who was staring out the window.

Jesse let out a melancholy sigh.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” Courtney rolled her eyes. “Right now, Jesse is my favorite because he’s not—”

“SELINA!” Jesse ejected out of his seat when his phone started ringing.

Taeyoung jumped awake. “Ugh, I was having the best nap.”

“Great, now you woke the cat.” T shook his head.

“Sorry, guys.” Jesse maneuvered out of the seat row. “The love of my life is calling me, I’ll be right back.” He headed into the bus bathroom and shut the door.

The bus fell silent.

“So,” Taeyoung sat up, “are we almost there?”

Courtney groaned loudly.

“Hey, babe.” Jesse said as he picked up the phone. “How are you and Marcel holding up?”

“Well, uh…we’re interesting.” Selina said awkwardly. “I mean, Marcel’s fine. He misses you like crazy, but—”

“Awwww, I miss him too.” Jesse smiled. “I miss you both a lot. I know it’s past his bedtime, but is he still up? I wanna talk to him.”

“Jesse, we need to talk.” Selina got his attention. “And I know your bottom lip is quivering right now. Calm down, I’m not breaking up with you.”

Jesse sighed with relief. “Lina, you gotta stop opening conversations like that, especially if it’s not gonna be serious.”

“This is pretty serious actually.” Selina said quietly. “Remember the night before you left for the tour?”

“You mean when you dragged me off the couch and made me finish packing?” Jesse furrowed his brow. “I told you I wasn’t sleeping, I was just resting my eyes. I was gonna get up in a second.”

“Actually,” Selina’s voice got awkwardly high pitched, “I was talking about what happened after that.”

Jesse froze. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“Because…I’m pregnant.” Selina finally said. “Surprise.”

Jesse stared at the wall in shock, completely silent.

“Oh, not again.” Selina groaned. “Baby, I need you to actually respond so I know you didn’t pass out or something.”

“Are you sure though?” Jesse narrowed his eyes. “I mean, maybe you’re late because you’re stressed about being alone with Marcel for two months.”

“Honey, I went to the doctor’s office today.” Selina crossed her arms. “The ultrasounds confirmed it.”

Jesse got quiet again. “Okay, well I’m gonna tuck and roll off this bus, walk back home, and—”

“No, babe, it’s totally fine.” Selina stopped him. “You’re only gonna be gone for a little while longer at this point.”

“It’s only been, like, three weeks. I’m not gonna be back until two days before Marcel’s birthday.” Jesse reminded her. “And the tour isn’t as important as being there for you. I mean, you’re gonna need someone to watch Marcel while you’re hunched over the toilet.”

“Jes, it’s really gonna be fine.” Selina calmed him down. “I’m gonna call Daunte in the morning to let him know, plus my dad’s retired now so he should be able to help until you’re back. All you’re really missing is the part of the pregnancy where I don’t want you near me.”

“But even during that phase, you needed to sit on my lap while I told you how pretty you are.” Jesse whined. “I just wanna go home and be with you guys.”

“Five more weeks.” Selina sighed. “Just five more weeks and we’ll be together again.”

“It’s gonna be the longest few weeks ever.” Jesse ran a hand through his hair. “Well, other than the first six weeks after Marcel was born. That was torture.”

Selina giggled. “Well, I’m gonna have to go now, babe. I just smelled what the neighbors are cooking and I’m probably gonna be sick.”

“Awww, that’s my pregnant wifey.” Jesse said with a giddy grin. “Go on, go throw up. Love you lots.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too. Bye.” She hung up quickly.

Jesse quietly smiled to himself. “I hate it here.”

Act II

Late 1998–First (American Only) Tour

Robaire—20 going on 21 in ‘99

Jesse—22 going on 23 in ‘99

Aaron Z—20 going on 21 in ‘99

Aaron T—19 going on 20 in ‘99

Taeyoung—15 going on 16 in 2 months

———

Aaaaand we’re back! Did you miss me😁

[warmbloodcomic]

Warm Blood: Girls Mode

Written by Josh Tierney

Photo edit by Caitlin Soliman

Pt. 4

Penny dreamed she was already back in her hometown and exploring a pet store. She was by herself, going from cage to cage as she looked at the animals, imagining what it would be like to have a pet. Eventually she made her way to the aquariums, expecting some colourful but otherwise uninteresting fish, but near the end of the row she stopped at the largest tank in the store.

Inside the glass box, completely submerged in water, was a fluffy grey Nebelung cat. The cat was comfortably floating in the middle of the water, apparently able to breathe without issue. Penny looked at the information sheet stuck to the glass to learn more: the sheet called the cat something other than a cat, even though it very clearly was one.

She then watched the small TV that was set up beside the tank. Looping onscreen was a video explaining how to care for the water cat, in particular how to prepare one’s home for it. This included keeping the home in a semi-flooded state, so that the water cat could swim through it to access its food and little box, as well as to play.

Penny wished she could take the water cat home with her, but knew her mother would never allow their home to be flooded. She touched the glass with the tips of her fingers, and then groggily opened her eyes, having awakened back in Japan.

Penny looked up at Eve, who was sitting up in bed and typing on her phone with a focused expression.

“Don’t tell me what time it is,” Penny said to her.

Eve then looked at Penny, clearly struggling not to tell her what time it was.

“Tell me what time it is,” Penny relented.

“6:30,” Eve said with a smile, as if glad to no longer be by herself. “Good morning.”

Penny sat up, the hood of her pajamas falling from her head. Despite being groggy, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. The 5-6 hours of sleep she did manage to get would need to be enough to see her through the day.

“I know you don’t drink coffee, but . . .”

Penny thought about it. She looked past Eve and over at her mother, who was still sleeping in the other bed. She might have been snoring as well, but Penny didn’t want to appear rude by commenting on it.

“Yeah, I think I need some.”

“Okay!” Eve said excitedly, but with a hushed enough voice so that she wouldn’t wake Penny’s mother.

Eve hopped out of the bed and Penny slid out after untangling her leg from the blanket, the two entering the living room where they could talk more freely.

“If we start our day early – like, if we go out right now – and don’t come back until night, then that should be enough to reset our internal clocks. We want to avoid coming back during the day so we’re not tempted by naps.”

Penny groggily listened and nodded.

“If you try to go back to bed, I’ll have to fight you,” Eve added, and Penny wanted to believe she was joking.

Penny slowly nodded again.

The girls got dressed, Eve in a blouse and skirt that looked like they were purchased from a fairy tale mall, and Penny in a graphic tee of Lloyd’s wanted poster from Tales of Symphonia. Penny decided to get the shirt after playing through the latest remaster of Symphonia with Edith and Jill.

“I’ll write a note for Mom,” Penny said. She used the room’s complimentary stationary to write GONE FISHING onto a small notepad, with a doodle of her and Eve holding fishing rods at the bottom. She knew it didn’t matter what they wrote, just as long as they did write something.

They looked out the balcony window and were pleased to see it was no longer raining.

“Coffee,” Penny said to Eve after they put their shoes on.

They exited the room and took the elevator down to the lobby.

* * *

The early morning light was just bright enough to cut through the thin veil of grey covering the sky. Instead of going to a café or store for the coffee, which ran the risk of being more expensive, Penny and Eve decided to make use of a vending machine – which were everywhere. No matter where they looked, at least one vending machine was within eyeshot, with bright, eye-catching colours and designs, and lights lit up under the drinks like thirst-quenching Christmas trees.

So plentiful were the vending machines that Penny and Eve only just then realised they were standing directly in front of one, and this BOSS-branded machine happened to sell hot cans of coffee.

The coffee cans were half the size of pop cans, each made from different varieties of beans and with varying levels of blackness. Penny went with a rainbow blend (whatever that meant – all Penny knew was that she liked the vibrant rainbow design on the can), and Eve picked the can that had BLACK printed on it in massive sideways letters.

“Your tastes are so mature,” Penny said after they had plucked their cans from the dispenser.

“Maybe that’s why I like Maaya so much,” Eve said with a smile while looking down at her can. “You know, since she’s a year older than me.”

They opened their cans at the same time; Penny took a couple gulps from hers, and Eve took a few sips.

“You can marry Maaya, and I’ll marry BOSS,” Penny said, referring to the pipe-smoking mascot on their coffee cans.

“He does look handsome,” Eve said. “And he looks really proud of his coffee.”

“It tastes good,” Penny said. “Better than whatever I’ve tried at home.”

Penny downed her can in a few more gulps.

“We’ll survive on these,” Penny said with a grin, the caffeine already jolting her awake and making her feel less inhibited.

“When we need to,” Eve said carefully, knowing how easily Penny could get addicted to unhealthy drinks and snacks.

“Where should we go?” Penny asked, eager to go everywhere at once now that BOSS was coursing through her veins.

“I was texting with Maaya earlier, and she suggested a store called Mandarake.”

“‘Mandrake’?”

“Man-da-ra-ke. It’s like a department store but for used manga, games, figures, stuff like that. It’s supposed to have 8 floors.”

Penny’s jaw dropped lower and lower as Eve’s description went on.

“Mandarake it is!” Eve then said happily.

Before they left, however, Eve made a point of finishing her coffee. Trash receptacles were apparently nonexistent in the streets of Tokyo, forcing pedestrians to walk with their garbage and dispose of it at home. The result was the cleanest streets Penny and Eve had ever seen in a big city, though the only other big city they had been to was Toronto.

Some vending machines had small recycling bins beside them, but only some. The BOSS machine was one of them, and Eve didn’t want to risk an indefinite search for the next one.

“Take some pictures of me,” Eve said after popping her empty can into the bin, the caffeine now hitting her as well. “I’m feeling inspired.”

Eve cycled through different poses beside the vending machine as Penny snapped some photos, treating the machine like a dance partner at an elegant ball. Eve then posted the pictures on her Instagram, and would later add them to her modelling portfolio.

She thought about submitting the photos directly to BOSS, along with her résumé. Eve’s mother currently acted as her agent, which would make finding a gig in Japan a challenge for her. But she could see it happening, just as she could see anything happening. Positivity was the key she used to unlock most doors.

Penny didn’t mention to Eve that passersby had been staring at them during the shoot; she would keep that tiny amount of embarrassment to herself. Penny did notice that she cared a lot less about doing something potentially embarrassing and drawing attention to themselves while they were in Japan – perhaps because she knew that the people who saw them might never see them again, while back home they were always surrounded by the same groups of people, including people who would never let them live certain things down.

The flyer girls were already lining the sidewalks as Penny and Eve followed the GPS on Eve’s phone to the Mandarake location. Every once in a while, Penny would accept one of the flyers for the small thrill of the interaction, though that meant she now had a thin stack of flyers she was holding onto.

“I’ll need a bag,” Penny said as she walked beside Eve, who was looking down at the map on her phone. “A cool reusable one, for all the random stuff I find.”

Eve was wearing her shoulder bag with a star on it.

“You can just put things in mine,” she said.

Penny slipped the flyers into Eve’s bag as they waited at a stoplight.

“I still want a cool bag.”

“I know.”

Penny and Eve walked past a man handing out packs of tissues with advertisements for his company on the wrappers. The man was wearing a tailored business suit, which made him look slightly out-of-place in Akihabara. If the tissues had a cute character on them, Penny would have taken one, but they were covered in kanji instead.

The man took a couple quick steps to catch up to Penny and pushed a pack towards her.

“Here, you’ll need this,” he said in practiced English. He had a polite smile and appeared somewhat apologetic for invading her personal space.

Penny took the tissues in slight confusion and the man returned to his spot on the sidewalk.

“Can I put these in your bag?” she asked Eve.

Eve looked at Penny and then pointed to her own right nostril, indicating that Penny should use the tissues first. It was a gesture that Eve had gotten used to ever since she had become friends with Penny.

Penny touched the spot under her right nostril, felt a slight dampness, and then looked at the bright-yet-dark red blood on her finger. She then opened up the pack of tissues and held one under her nostril.

Penny’s previous nosebleeds had been caused by the presence of aliens, so this was concerning to her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had picked her nose, and it wasn’t like the air was dry.

By the time they reached Mandarake, her nosebleed had stopped, and, with no garbage nearby, Penny folded up the used tissue and slipped it into her pocket.

A black-and-white flyer to the right of the entrance showed Haruo Yaguchi from Hi Score Girl in white-eyed crazy mode. The text on the flyer was all in kanji, so Penny could only imagine that Haruo had just discovered his dream store, just like all the other otaku filtering in. Hi Score Girl was one of Penny’s favourite anime, a show about a game-obsessed kids growing up in the 90s and experiencing each major shift in arcade game technology, along with home consoles.

Penny had Eve take a picture of her beside the flyer as she made a peace sign; she had never thought of herself as a peace sign kind of girl before, but it was something to do with her hands as they took all these photos in Japan.

Penny took a look at the photo after Eve snapped it and noticed a hint of red beneath her nostril, which she then proceeded to wipe away with her thumb.

The girls entered the building, the first floor mainly made up of conveyor belts leading to cash registers and Mandarake-branded merch, including shirts and bags with exclusive artwork by Oshikiri Rensuke, the creator of Hi Score Girl. The conveyor belts with the cash registers were the buy-back counters, where customers could unload their used goods in exchange for cash they would inevitably spend on other anime, manga and videogame merch. The used goods that Mandarake purchased would in turn be stocked in the store.

Penny stopped at the section with the bags, already knowing she would buy one, but struggling to pick which design she desired most: the one where a girl was being chased out of the store by aliens, monsters and robots, or the one where the girl had successfully shopped at the store and was leaving with bags in tow – along with one of the robots strapped to her back. The artwork was black & white, printed on black bags.

Eve pointed at the design where the girl was being chased.

“That’s the most like you,” she said somewhat teasingly.

Penny picked up the bag, silently acknowledging the truth behind her friend’s words. A sign in English read that merchandise must be paid for on the floor it’s found on, so Penny went ahead and bought the bag, happy with her first real souvenir.

Dismissive by Clark was being played over the PA.

The staircase leading up the building was located outside, with the doors to each floor accessible from the landings. Penny and Eve took the stairs up to the second floor, Penny carrying her bag. She looked at the building across the street, which had a glowing neon I (HEART) AKIHABARA sign. Penny felt like she was seeing her own heart light up.

The girls entered the second floor, which was filled with rare dolls protected by brightly-lit glass cases, magical girl and shoujo anime toys, and cosplay accessories for dressing up as the magical girl and shoujo anime characters.

They took their time admiring the dolls, which had an uneasy mix of realism and exaggerated anime qualities, their wide, colourful eyes seeming to gaze directly into Penny and Eve’s souls. When they came to the penultimate case, they stopped, and tried to find words that wouldn’t creep each other out.

The dolls in the case were dressed like the maids from the café where Maaya worked, including a maid that looked eerily like Maaya. The heads of the dolls nearest the Maaya doll were turned ever-so-slightly towards her, as if to ensure attention was drawn to her.

After sucking in their breath, Penny and Eve stepped over to the final case, which had more maid dolls, only these ones were dressed entirely in black, without the splashes of pink of the previous dolls. Five dolls were lined up in a row on each shelf – except for the empty middle row, where all that remained were five price stickers.

“At least none of them look like us,” Eve said.

“Yeah,” Penny said. “That would be creepy.”

As they exited back onto the staircase, Penny and Eve did pass by two dolls on an unlit shelf that shared some resemblances with them, from their mismatched heights and hair colours to Penny’s glasses, though they failed to notice them.

The clouds of the overcast sky were beginning to darken somewhat. Penny tried to focus more on the thinner layers of cloud, where it seemed like shafts of light could break through at any moment. Keeping her head turned to the clouds, Penny accidentally bumped into Eve’s back as they ascended the stairs to the next landing.

“Sorry,” Penny apologised in embarrassment.

“Sorry, it’s my fault for moving slowly,” Eve apologised back needlessly. “Everything looks so cool and I keep getting distracted.”

They entered the building’s third floor, where a blast of popular shounen manga awaited them, as well as some vintage manga and anime magazines. Penny and Eve weren’t the biggest watchers or readers of shounen anime and manga, though Edith and Jill had gotten Penny to watch JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure and Ranking of Kings with them. But even though they weren’t necessarily fans of a lot of the series on display, they still appreciated the bright, bold aesthetics, as well as the pure boyishness of it all.

The girls flipped through random books as they winded their way through the floor. Eve fell in love with some of the silly-looking monsters on the covers of the retro live-action special effects magazines. They then oohed and aahed at the magazines with unique Ghibli art on the covers, released in the same years the movies came out.

Eve noticed a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned her head just as a maid in black stood at the end of the aisle they were in, as if the maid had popped into existence at that very instant. The maid was smiling at Eve, though her eyes appeared cold and doll-like. The maid then began walking backwards while continuing to look at Eve, eventually bumping into the shelf behind her and causing random volumes of shounen manga to tumble to the floor.

“What do you think’s on the fourth floor?” Eve asked Penny, turning to her friend with a frozen smile.

“Hmm, I dunno,” Penny said, not noticing the maid herself. “Probably more of the coolest stuff ever. You ready to check it out?

“Yeah,” Eve said, still with her frozen smile.

The girls left the third floor, Eve vowing to remain brave so that her best friend could maintain her role as the one who was scared of everything. They then entered the fourth floor and immediately turned around and walked back out, the wall-to-wall doujinshi of a rather adult variety being even less of their thing than mainstream shounen manga.

The fifth floor was devoted entirely to BL, and there they took the time to explore again. Penny flipped through a mildly spicy volume with attractive artwork, and then stared at the cover, wondering how she’d be able to slip it past customs on the way back home.

“Are you thinking of getting a souvenir for Edith and Jill?” Eve asked.

“Yeah, but . . . maybe not this,” Penny said, reluctantly putting the book back. “I’ll get something that doesn’t have a chance of being confiscated.”

“That leaves out this floor,” Eve said.

The sixth floor was where all the movies, music and videogames could be found. Since Penny and Eve had already seen what felt like every notable game in existence at the Super Potato, Penny skipped over them to instead focus on the CDs, in particular the game soundtracks. Many of them had beautiful and unique cover art, and Penny kind of wanted some of them just for that, despite not owning a CD player. She was especially drawn to the Yoshitaka Amano artwork on the front and back of All Sounds of Final Fantasy I & 2, a compilation album from the ancient past of 1988.

“You’re never going to listen to it,” Eve told her.

“Yeah, but . . .”

“You’re never going to listen to it,” Eve said again.

Penny sighed and put it back on the shelf. The Pixel Remaster rearrangement of the Castle Cornelia theme from the first Final Fantasy was playing over the PA, and it was one of the sweetest pieces of music Penny had ever heard.

They exited back onto the stairs and looked out over the street together, realising just how high up they were getting.

“Let’s take a picture together when we get to the top,” Eve said.

“We’re almost there,” Penny said, wishing the building was even taller.

There were only two floors left. The seventh floor had vintage toys, collectable cards and stickers, and seeing figures taken directly from ’60s special effects shows gave the floor a museum vibe similar to what the girls had experienced at Super Potato.

Eve was once again enamoured with all the silly monsters from various classic tokusatsu series, especially their big, expressive eyes and open-mouthed expressions. She could imagine being a princess in a world where such monsters were her knights.

Eve told this to Penny.

“See, if I can develop an RPG like the old Final Fantasies, then I can make that happen,” Penny said. “I’d just need some of the music for inspiration.”

They then checked out a glass case of shiny Evangelion phone cards from the ’90s. The cards were used for payphones, and the anime and videogame characters in their designs made them sought-after collectibles.

A card featuring Rei in a pink kimono jumped out at Penny as something Jill would like to have, especially since it was only a little over 100 yen. She decided to buy it, so that Jill’s souvenir would be covered, leaving only Edith and Cale. Cale was Penny’s most fashionable friend, taking outfit inspiration from Harajuku fashion TikToks, so Penny wanted to wait and see if she ended up in Harajuku herself before picking something up for her.

The final floor had contemporary figures and models based on current trends in anime and videogames. The large amount of Spy × Family figures, gachapon and ads, including massive posters throughout all of Tokyo, made it out to be one of the most popular series at the moment, and which successfully got Penny interested in wanting to check out the anime when she returned to Canada.

Eve received a text message, which she read intently.

“Maaya says she’ll be ready soon,” Eve said. “We’ll meet her at a place called Mister Donut.”

“I’m ready for a donut.”

“Think Mister Donut and the Super Potato are friends?”

Penny and Eve returned to the final landing, taking multiple pictures together with their backs against the railing, angling the camera to incorporate as much of Akihabara as possible. Penny was sure to hold up her bag and the phone card in some shots.

They then took one last look over the railing, where they saw an empty maid outfit lying flat in the middle of the road.

[burpfrog]

Beauty and the Beat | Part 2

Less sleep deprived, still indecisive. Let’s gooooo.

CB spent the second of workshops acclimating to the intense workouts, while simultaneously keeping a calm facade - no thanks to Ms. Bada who have taken a vested interest in her moves. CB is no where as precise as the skilled dancer, who managed to execute new chores seemingly effortlessly, but the way she carried herself does have a certain quality that Bada can’t quite put her finger on. And so the hours flied by, as the two were mesmerised by each other - and both sneaking peaks at each other, hoping that they were being subtle about it. They weren’t, Kirsten and Latrice on the other side of the room had front row seat to their “subtle” exchanges and feigned gagged at the two.

Comes night fall and CB once again weaselled out for some smokes, updating the girls about her (slow) progress in the meantime.

Day three of the workshop is when CB realised the clear divide between pro dancers and herself, as she begin to struggle to catch up with the group, either falling half a count behind or missing a turn. After almost an hour of tussling, CB casted her ego aside and turned to Bada asking for some guidance.

It isn’t like Bada hasn’t noticed the hour long scrambling taking place beside her, but CB was clearly trying hard to figure out the steps in her own terms and she didn’t feel the need to intervene. When CB finally turned to her after for some pointers, the more experienced dancer warmly offered some guidance. “You missed a step between count 4 and 5,” she placed her hand on CB’s shoulder and directed her to the beat. “Like this. Be a little more precise.”

CB parroted the instruction, this time executing the movement with more accuracy and force. Bada nodded approvingly as she watched. “Now for the other part that you missed,” she moved closer to CB and placed her hand on her lower waist, “left heel, tip, heel.”

Again CB followed the instructions, moving to the beat counts; the instructor’s hand following the arch of her back as she moved, sitting comfortably at the hollow of her back’s arch. When CB got the moves right on the third try, Bada took a step back and released a breath she hasn’t even realised that she was holding, slightly relieved that she’s able to take a step back before inappropriate thoughts begin to form in her head.

“Thanks for that,” CB smiled and turned around, inches away from Bada’s face. The latter looked up to meet her eyes, not used to having such a pretty face looking down at her. She’s usually the one towering over other dancers, female and males alike; but being at eye level with CB’s chin, she couldn’t help but stare at her flushed cheeks and plump lips. Realising that she’s gawking, Bada lowered her gaze.

Noticing the effect she’s having on Bada, CB chuckled and flicked the brim of Bada’s cap downwards, concealing the blush now painting the dancer’s cheek a shade of rose.

For a third night in a row, Bada have noticed the disappearance of CB, and is wondering how the hell does she manage to sneak around silently with those massive stompers of hers. Opening the doors one by one, Bada is determined to locate her. A strange smell through the exit piqued her interest, and the tall girl approached the doorway. A familiar sound indicated that she was on the right track and she sped up her pace.

“So how is your plan coming along?” Kirsten asked, during their nightly sesh. “I’m seeing a lot of batting eyelashes and giggling, but I’m not seeing a lot of-” she trailed off as she pinched both her hands towards each other, making a smooching motion with her hands. CB chuckled and stuck her middle finger up, nonverbally telling Kirsten to “get fucked.”

“Mate I’m trying,” CB attempted to explain, “it doesn’t help that I’m constantly in PAIN because it’s taking me everything to simply keep up with you ladies… took everything just to keep a straight face you know what I mean!”

“Oh girl you need to do something about that stamina of yours,” the newest member to their nightly hangout, Latrice, added while rolling her eyes. “She’s gonna devour you at this rate.”

CB gasped, pretending to be offended by the comment.

“Well she ‘likes a good challenge’,” Kirsten jabbed, “physical challenge.”

The group bursted out into laughter as the door flung open, with Bada on the other side of the door frame. Kirsten and Latrice exchanged a sneaky smile as CB welcomed the newcomer into the group. “Look who found us!” She cheered as she scooted over, just enough for the tall dancer to sit down. “You smoke?” CB offered.

Bada shook her head ‘no’, politely smiling as she does. “I’m good, are you guys…”

“Baked.” “Stoned.” “Blazin’.” The trio responded in unison. The South Korean’s eyes widen slightly, quickly recovering once she realised their geographical location.

“So this is your little hide out,” Bada marvelled at the cozy corner, “I’ve been wondering where you three disappeared to every night fall.”

“The couch potato can’t handle us,” Latrice nudged, “she’s been chain smoking like an elderly cat lady over here after every workshops.”

CB kicked her legs up and gently plopped it onto Bada’s lap, “My whole body aches,” she complained as she pouts.

Bada was mildly surprised by her forwardness, nevertheless she started rubbing CB’s foot skilfully, the way that she usually does with her teammates. CB has leaned back on the couch, her hoodie unzipped, the dim street lights illuminating her torso like an art piece in the museum.

“You’re really good at this, maybe I should stop by your room later for a full body massage.” CB praised, her tone playful. Kirsten and Latrice snickered at her boldness.

Is she flirting? Bada wondered while her hands continues to knead. Seeing the relaxed posture CB took, she brushed it off and convinced herself that the foreigner is just being friendly.

As soon as Kirsten and Latrice finished up their roll, they stood up and excused themselves for the night, sneaking a wink at CB on the way out. When they’re out of sight, Latrice shot CB a message reading “Good luck 🍀😉”

CB’s phone lit up, Latrice’s message popping up on the screen. Bada glanced towards the device, peeking at the text. Noticing the dancer’s curiosity, CB picked up the phone and snapped a quick selfie of themselves. “I’m on it,” she texted back.

“What’s that about?” Bada asked, CB still leaning on her shoulder from the selfie pose.

“They’re wishing me luck with trying to hit on you,” CB explained nonchalantly.

Bada, taken aback by the bluntness, tried to cover up her bashfulness with a chortle. “You’re funny.”

CB pouted, displeased that her attempt is brushed off as a friendly gesture. “I meant it though, you’re really pretty. Nice smile too.” She immediately wanted to kick herself as soon as she said that. Nice smile? That’s the best I can do?

The faint light veiled the blush forming at the girl’s cheek, muttering a soft ‘thank you’ in return, speechless at the vixen. It’s not that she’s uninterested, just unsure at CB’s sincerity. After all the popular dancer does receive quite a number of attention (and online, professions), but more often than not those compliments are just that, compliments. On to of that, Bada is used to being the one who had to be the first to make romantic advancements, as most people just assumed that the tall handsome girl with such charming aura would surely be more dominant.

CB noticed the sudden silence from the other girl and retreated her advancement, sitting back up right. “Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” she apologised, feeling responsible for the sudden shift in aura. Perhaps she did come on too strongly. “Do you want me to walk you back to your room?”

Bada glanced up at the anxiety-ridden producer and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears. “I’m not uncomfortable,” she explained softly, “you’re just… different than what I’m used to. Not in a bad way though.”

A warm smile crept it’s way onto CB’s lips as she felt a sense of relief. “What, girls?” She carefully prodded for explanation.

“No I’ve had my fair share of girls,” Bada winked, “you’re the most candid one by far though.”

“Oh thank fuck I didn’t bark up the wrong tree,” CB exhaled, “I’d be mortified. Okay I get your drift, I’ll back up a little. Old habits die hard.”

Not noticing the underlying message of the last bit, the dancer tugged on the producer’s hoodie, pulling her closer. “It’s alright, I kind of like it.”

Thanks again for staying around sorry if this is all over the place - I took a sick day from work and had a mountain of tasks to return to 😩 see y’all hopefully tomorrow (anxiously waiting for the Chilli Challenge to come out!!!) xoxo

[ohraicodoll]

Figment | Chapter 2

(gif credit: sic-vita) Chapters:  2/7 Fandom:  The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating:  Mature Relationships:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters:  Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne Additional Tags: Mix of TV Dream and Comic Dream, Spice a little later, kinda enemies to lovers, Cause Dream likes when people backtalk to him, lots and lots of tension Summary: She had only been able to enter other’s dreams two years ago, but she knew the rules.

Don’t interfere with the dream. Don’t create anything in another’s dream. Don’t destroy anything in another’s dream.

But then she stupidly broke one of those rules and the Lord of Dreams does not take kindly to others messing with his domain. Chapter Summary:  Nightmares and Dream Kings. Read Here on AO3 Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Chapter 2

I was being paranoid.

The first week after seeing the mystery man I downed whatever caffeine drink I could find. Just an ungodly amount of caffeine and sugar that kept me up late and then had me crashing hard. Forcing a crash meant I didn’t dream as much and if I didn’t dream, maybe my little transgression would be forgotten about or unnoticed.

When my body started to get used to the caffeine and I found myself nodding off while typing, I started googling things like intermittent sleeping and if sleeping medication staved off dreaming. The answer was no. So I took to napping a couple hours at a time for the next few weeks, but never a full night's rest.

I was thinking about the mystery guy too much and because of that, I kept seeing him in the brief dreams I did have while napping. He peered into the glass window of the café I sat at while a cat served me coffee and a human girl napped on the floor. When I walked across the branches of 100-foot-tall trees, I could feel those black endless eyes following me from far below on the forest floor. As I walked on the ocean floor with a large jellyfish chatting my ear off, I could have sworn it was his reflection I saw on the surface of the water, large and looming.

Thinking too much about something could bring it into the dreaming and since I was so anxious, he was going to appear of course. Right?

The intermittent napping wasn’t working unless the goal was to give me bags under my eyes the size of a bean bag chair. Another downside was that I was an adult that needed to work an adult job that required focus, which was not something I had.

After sending the same email to the wrong person three times in a row, I gave up and decided to take a sick day halfway through lunch. A girl had to eat and getting fired for fucking up an important document and emailing the wrong vendors wasn’t going to help the situation. I was going to have to sleep. This wasn’t sustainable and it’s not like that was actually the Lord of Dreams!

Of course not.

I splashed water on my face in the bathroom to try and shake off the increasing numbness I’d been feeling. It was disconcerting how much I’d been feeling this way in the past two years. Almost like the real world was the dream and vice versa. I felt like a shadow and after the few weeks of restless days and nights I’d been having, I wasn't even a solid shadow. I was thin and flimsy and my skin was looking a bit more faded.

My coworkers were chalking it up to the breakup but honestly, I hadn’t even thought of Thomas that much. Which probably said something in itself about how attached I had been in the relationship. He’d tried to stop by the office since I’d blocked him but luckily, we had a receptionist who gave me the heads up and he was told I was out of town for a conference. Jennine was a real one.

Hoisting my bag on my shoulder, I began the walk back to my apartment fifteen minutes away. The plan would be to go home, get some sleep, and if I dreamed I would stay strictly in my own. I hadn’t gone into anyone else’s since Thomas because no way was I risking that, but maybe if I was being watched I could act like I was completely normal and he’d move on.

Completely normal and not able to go walking around people’s dreams or remember them during the day or able to break your ex-boyfriend’s dreams out of drunken anger. Normal. I could do that. I had years and years of practice before two years ago, I could totally do that.

Pausing at the crosswalk for the lights to switch, I ran a hand over my tired face. Everything was a blur around me, barely registering, and the combination of heat and humidity from a passing Summer rain pressed onto me.

I was exhausted but anxious, the two pulling my brain in every direction. There was no telling how long I could keep this up. If that was the dreamlord and he was onto me, he was far more powerful than I was. He was already outlasting me. But what exactly did I do wrong? I didn’t ask for any of this.

A loud bird caw right above my head made me jump, startled, a few seconds before I realized my foot had slipped off the curb and into the street right as a semi-truck passed by. The world came back into loud, sharp focus and the truck blared a honk as it drove passed and my heart raced.

Blinking, I looked up to find a very large raven perched on the streetlight above me. It’s head quirked and then it fluffed up its feathers.

My heart was hammering and hands shaking from the close call, but I couldn’t help myself from staring at the bird. For a second, I wondered if I was dreaming and the raven had been trying to warn me.

“Thanks for that,” I muttered under my breath then shook myself, starting to walk forward as the walk sign turned on.

I needed sleep. I had thanked a bird. And I definitely had most likely hallucinated it bowing its head with a look of understanding before it took off into the sky.

_________

The forest was cold and foggy, the treetops so large and encompassing that I couldn’t even see the sky if I tried to in the utter darkness. My breath was coming out in ragged breaths, small puffs of white blowing in the cold.

I was in a nightmare. I hadn’t had one in so long, but the sleeplessness and exhaustion had probably brought it on.

My heart was thumping loudly in my ears and the sounds were so loud around me. Tiny snaps of branches. The chittering of bugs and night creatures. I swallowed and tried to calm myself. I couldn’t wake myself up if I wasn’t calm.

Something was watching me. I could feel its eyes on my back like heat searing my skin. I knew I shouldn’t turn, shouldn’t look behind me, but I couldn’t help it. Holding my breath, I slowly turned my eyes to look over my shoulder into the darkness of the forest. For a second everything was quiet and still except for the soft rasps of my frantic breathing.

Then eyes appeared and then more eyes, hundreds of eyes and dozens of mouths smiling dangerously in stark relief against the black void. I could see the slight inky movement of tentacles reaching and grasping the trees around it.

And then it started to run or whatever version of running a giant mass of eyes and teeth and tentacles could do, grabbing whatever it could to pull itself forward. It was so fast, so very fast and cackling and it rushed towards me.

I took off running.

The monstrous thing laughed, trees breaking under its grip as it bulldozed forward. I flew, hopping over broken logs and dead leaves. My feet were bare, each slap against the forest floor like sharp spikes through my heels, and all I had on was what I had passed out in, jeans and an oversized shirt. The cold stung and the small branches easily tore through the thin fabric and sliced up my skin.

It was gaining on me. I knew it. I wasn’t a runner, never had been, and even in this dream world I could feel the sharp ache in my sides that reminded me of that fact. I tried to choke out a cry for help but the cold ate the words away. There were eyes in the forest, eyes all around me, pressing in against me in the darkness. No moon, no stars, only a void and the cold.

There was a door ahead in the distance. I almost sobbed in relief and tried to force myself a little farther. If I reached it, I’d be safe. It couldn’t follow me through into someone else’s dream. There were rules to the creatures that inhabited the dream world and unlike me, they had to follow them.

Tears stung and I could feel the sharp bite of a dozen little cuts all over my body.

Just a little bit more. The monster laughed louder, closer, teeth gnashing.

My body slammed into the wood of the door, the impact reverberating through me and my own teeth slamming together as I desperately reached for the door handle. It turned easily but when I opened it, my stomach dropped.

It didn’t lead anywhere. The frame stood on its own and the other side was only more forest except now there were rows and rows of doors on either side like a hallway without walls. I shook, sobbing, and ran through grabbing the next door’s handle on the left.

Empty. I grabbed the one across. Another empty frame. Another and another. Each one led nowhere but gaped wide back into the dark forest like a never-ending taunt. There was no escaping.

The monster was so close and I could see the thrashing of its tentacles whipping around in the darkness. It was so big, impossibly huge as it came closer. I screamed in frustration and fear as one by one the doors led nowhere. Closer and closer, the mouths talked in a chorus of echoing voices, calling my name and mocking me.

Could I die in a nightmare? I had heard about some that were so scared in dreams that they gave themselves a stroke. I had heard of sleep paralysis and then there was dying in your sleep from unknown causes. And I was more aware in dreams, could feel the echoes of them in the real world. Could it kill me?

I shook another door knob in rage and screamed at it, watching it swing back into the open air.

Tentacles wrapped around the frame of the main door that had led me here, no longer running but curling slowly and dragging its body through. So many eyes, wet and roaming all over its body and taking me in. The mouths were fanged and sharp and grinned at me.

“...so ssssscaaared….soooo aloooone…” its mouths whispered, the voice sliding along my skin like thick, sticky tar.

I backed up, staring at this monstrous creature with disgust and terror. I couldn’t even feel the pain of sticks stabbing the underside of my feet, the small droplets of blood welling up and staining the forest floor.

It was only a few yards away now, grasping empty door frames to pull itself forward, body squeezing and filling the narrow corridor between doors.

I kept stepping backwards, away, but not sure where to run or if I turned around and tried more doors it would grab me and rip me to shreds with all its teeth. Wake up. Wake up! The words pounded through my head. My back hit wood and I could feel another door at my back. End of the line. I desperately reached for the doorknob blindly and let out another sob when it didn’t even open. Locked.

Of course.

“...nooo…where…to..runnnnnnn” the monster hissed mockingly, chuckling as it towered over me.

It lunged. I screamed.

The door opened behind me and arms yanked me back harshly, my body falling backward.

I was still screaming when the door slammed shut and dissolved, leaving me in nothing but an empty black void.

There was no light, no sense of ground or sky or walls, but I could see perfectly. I was shaking so badly. The arms wrapped around my waist let go unceremoniously and I fell to my knees, heaving in deep breaths and shuddering with how hard I was sobbing. It took me a while to understand that I was out of the nightmare, that I was safe. I think. But finally, shaking and face completely wet with tears, I forced myself to sit upright and look over my shoulder at the person who had grabbed me.

The stranger. There he was, standing in the void, towering over my hunched form.

Instead of a peacoat this time, a long inky cloak flowed around him like flickering shadows, flames dancing along the edges. He blended in with the void, made of pure darkness and moonlight. His skin was so pale, like marble, and his hair was a mess of black surrounding a face sculpted sharply from porcelain. But those eyes. Black, pure black, with twin stars staring directly at me, drilling into me. It hadn’t been a trick of the shadows back in the bar.

“It’s you,” I whispered breathlessly.

“So it would appear,” he replied, soft but powerful, like silk in thunderstorms.

The momentary relief halted, fear returning to flood my veins. I wasn’t sure if I should stand, stay kneeling on the ground, or make a run for it. But where could I even go? He quirked his head almost like he could read my thoughts. Could he read my thoughts?

I settled for slowly pulling myself off the floor, my legs weak from the effort. My clothes were torn and shredded from dirt and blood and the dew of the fog, hair matted to my face and neck. But I tried to at least stand with some dignity even if my feet felt like they’d fall off.

“You-,” I licked my lips and could taste coppery blood, “You’ve been in all my dreams lately.”

His face was an unmovable mask as he peered at me with those black eyes, “I have.”

“You’re the dreamlord,” it came out a shaky whisper, as if speaking it out loud would cause the door to burst open and the monster to come in. But he heard me, the barest twitch of a raised eyebrow.

“It seems you do, in fact, know of me,” he replied, almost mockingly, “So I can also assume you are not as ignorant as you try to seem about what you have been doing in my realm.”

I winced, hands balling into a fist at my side. I was scared and nervous and intimidated but there was this feeling deep down of indignation that I wasn’t sure about, “I vaguely know of you, but I didn’t think you were real. Just nonsense adults tell kids.”

“I assure you I am very real,” his words held weight as he took a step forward, “I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, and Lord of the Dreaming. And I believe, little dreamer, it is time we had words.”

I blinked and suddenly, my clothes were back to normal. No sign of damage or blood or dirt from my run through the forest. I couldn’t feel any of the scrapes and cuts anymore, though there was still a ghost of pain from where they had been. I was whole again, in one way at least.

Morpheus stepped forward, a good head taller than me and radiating a power I could feel all around me, “You interfered with another’s dream- a dream you should not have been able to access in the first place. And now you seek to hide from me.”

I swallowed, staring up into those bottomless eyes, and tried to find my voice, “I…did, but not on purpose!…I- I mean not the interfering part, I did enter another’s dream and I did try to hide but-”

One of his eyebrows raised as I bumbled my way through an explanation, “I did intend to enter the dream but I was drinking and I was upset and it wasn’t my best moment and before I knew it I was breaking things and-”

“Enough,” he cut me off. “You knowingly entered this man’s dream?”

Shrugging halfheartedly, I sighed, “I didn’t know it was going to be his, but I did know it was someone else’s dream. It’s…something I’ve been able to do for a couple of years. For some reason, before that, I couldn’t even remember my dreams, much less mess around with them.”

His jaw clenched and eyes danced away, a move so subtle I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t hovering over me. “There were…circumstances that kept most away from the Dreaming for a long time. Even thus so, a dream walker has not entered this realm in centuries and for good reason,” Morpheus spoke.

The term dream walker rolled in my head, settling in as if to yes, “Yes, yes, that’s what we are.”

But I frowned, the fear and tension starting to become an even tenor, almost like my body was getting used to being high strung and therefore it was less intense. Afraid but not as much. Dream was intimidating and powerful, but something itched in the back of my head that whispered, “He’s only a man.”

Dream walkers had been around though. My grandmother had said she had the gift when she was a kid and that it ran in the family. She wouldn’t have known about it unless she had done it herself so that was a lie.

“Or maybe they all learned how to not get caught,” I mumbled absentmindedly before realizing I had said it out loud. The implication that he’d been outsmarted, that they’d been under his nose and he didn’t even know it.

His eyes instantly returned back to mine, a flicker of anger in them as the twin stars burned red. And that pleased me for some reason. Like I, a mere mortal, was able to get a reaction from him.

“I am the Dreaming,” he practically growled, “This is my realm and you deliberately have broken my laws. Mortals cannot traverse through other’s dreams.”

“If that’s so, why can I?” I snapped back. It was like an out of body experience. The exhaustion and anxiety and frustration from the last few weeks of pushing myself to the limit to hide from him had it all rearing up. He’d caught me, there was no more hiding, but is what I did so reprehensible?

“I didn’t ask to be able to do this. It just happened and you know what, I’m not sorry,” I bit out, straightening myself out and standing taller, “Yes, I did go into another person’s dream but I didn’t know it would be Thomas’. But even then, that asshole deserves to have his little fantasy smashed to bits.”

It had to be delirium that was propelling my mouth, because I’d gone insane. Morpheus’ lips pursed and those twin stars flashed in his eyes as he stepped closer, bearing down on me.

“You dare-”

“For two years, I’ve been a good girl and didn’t interfere once,” I cut him off, anger roaring in my ears, “I do it one time and you’re acting like I might as well have killed someone. So how about we call that fucked up little nightmare that tried to eat me a slap on the wrist, I agree to not mess with anyone again, and call it a day because I am tired of turning around and seeing you in every corner of my dreams.”

He stepped forward again, so close I could feel his breath on me. Power rolled off him, his cloak whipping around our feet angrily. The flames from the inky fabric did not burn as they danced off him and brushed against me, the cloak sliding along my skin whispering of dreams and nightmares and stars and shadows and stories so ancient. In the vastness of the black void we stood in, he seemed darker than the mind could fathom.

The Dream King glowered, otherworldly and beautiful and full of fury, and glared down straight into me with hot anger, “You deem to tell me what I should do, little dreamer? You have no idea the games you play. The Dreaming is not your playground to do as you like and I am not yours to command.”

I raised my chin, “What is dreaming if not a place where you can play out your fantasies? I didn’t hurt anyone and I don’t see how I’m yours to command either so we’re done here.”

The corner of Morpheus’ lip twitched in unamused humor. “Impertinent little thing,” he whispered coolly, so close to me I could feel it.

“Well you’re really going to hate this,” I muttered, craning my neck to stare back directly into his eyes, almost a challenge.

I could see Morpheus knit his brow as he tried to guess at my words but by the time his mouth formed the shape to yell at me, I’d already quickly whispered out my command.

“Wake up.”

There was no melting away. One second, I was staring up at an angry ancient being and the next, I was jolting upright and breathing hard. My hands gripped the bedsheets, straining to ground myself in some way in the real world. I was awake, the room was whole and empty. No cuts on my feet, no swirling black cloak. No black void, no angry Morpheus. Safe.

I cupped my face in my hands, groaning loudly as my skin settled into normal gravity. I could still feel that anger roiling inside me but reality was taking hold, dousing it quickly in ice as the realization of what I’d done settled in. I hadn’t been drunk this time, had only been fueled by exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and the fear from the nightmare. But still, I had yelled at the Dream King.

I had essentially yelled at him and then shut a metaphysical door right in his face. What was wrong with me?

I was so fucking dead.

[ronaldofandom]

Pregnancy cravings

RRR Modern AU

Words: ~2800, no warnings

This is Bheem being the best husband in the world, which we know he would be.

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It was the fifth time she had gotten up in the night to pee. The baby seemed to particularly enjoy toying with her bladder. It was also the third night in a row Jenny was barely able to get any sleep at all. The baby also particularly enjoyed kicking her at night. Tremendously. As she was walking back to bed, the first rays of the sun started seeping through the curtains. She sighed - it was 5:30 am already. She had barely been able to sleep for 4 hours last night, and that, too, was fairly restless. She was bigger than usual for her sixth month - people seemed to suggest that it meant she was carrying a boy. Jenny wasn’t so sure, though. Aren’t boys supposed to be fonder of their moms? Not this one, though - since it was the happiest when it listened to its father’s voice. Bheem loved singing to her belly, and the child responded with enthusiastic kicks - with no concern for its mother’s discomfort. So yeah, she wasn’t convinced it was a boy. She was quite sure it was a daddy’s girl in her tummy,

and she had already picked a side. The bigger belly also meant that she could only sleep on her back now. Leading to more back pains. She couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

Jenny tried to sing a prayer in her head - it tended to soothe her since she was a child. As she somehow managed to drift back to light sleep, Bheem’s alarm rang. It was a brief one, just two beeps - no sound, only mild vibrations. But it was enough to wake her, and she pulled the pillow to her head in frustration. Unaware of what was happening around him, Bheem woke up in his usual cheerful mood. It used to constantly flummox Jenny how someone could be this energetic in the morning - she was not a morning person at all. Over the last 5 years of their relationship & marriage, Bheem had learned that about her. He always tiptoed in the early hours, never disturbing her, knowing fully well how cranky she would get without her 8 hours of sleep.

He quickly switched off the alarm and stretched his arms. Though it was a Saturday, he still wanted to get up at 6 to do his gardening. It was his favourite time to spend in his terrace garden - with the company of birds and early morning breeze. He turned around to kiss his beautiful pregnant wife. That was his morning routine - he never started his day without placing brief kisses on her cheeks, even as she slept. But today her face was covered with a pillow and she seemed to be groaning. He slowly removed the pillow and kissed her cheek, while gently caressing her belly. She seemed to be wide awake.

‘Good morning, baby girl.’ He whispered in her ear.

‘There is nothing, NOTHING, not a single thing good about this morning.’ She half screamed at him.

‘When I wake up next to you, all mornings automatically become beautiful.’ He muttered in between kisses to her face and neck.

‘Ewww that’s so cheesy.’ She tried to sound irritated but couldn’t help a brief smile appearing on her face. Which irritated her even more - it was annoying how she couldn’t stay mad at him for over 5 minutes. He would invariably say or do something super sweet, and she would melt like a puddle. Always. It was so unfair.

‘Couldn’t sleep last night either?’ He asked, looking at her tired eyes.

‘On and off, for about 4 hours. Had to get up innumerable times to pee. I am telling you, your child is conspiring against me.’ She responded as he nuzzled into her neck.

‘Oh, so it’s just my child now?’ He laughed, looking at her fondly. She was adorable even when she was irritated.

‘As of now, yes.’ They stayed in each other’s embrace, drawing comfort from the hug.

‘Why didn’t you wake me? We could have watched something together, or I could have read to you - that usually puts you to sleep.’ He winked at her.

‘Yeah, right. You were out like a light. Even a tornado wouldn’t have woken you up. I swear it was almost like you were rubbing your peaceful sleep in my face. I wanted to kick you so badly.’ She whined, making her look even more adorable to him. He kissed her cheeks again.

‘Baby, I mean it. Next time, please just wake me up. I know I can’t take away your discomfort, but I can at least be there for you every step of the way. I really want to. I swear I am feeling so guilty right now.’

‘Well, if you are really feeling guilty, there is something you could do for me, something that always comforts me.’ She looked up at him, putting on her most innocent look.

He understood immediately. ‘Your wish is my command, darling.’ He smiled back and pulled out a bottle of oil from the side table. Removing her blanket, he pulled her legs into his lap and started massaging her feet. She sighed. Feet massages were the only saving grace of her pregnancy; these tended to give her immediate comfort. And he was so so good at it, like most other things. Knowing when to be gentle and when to apply pressure. He caressed her skin with so much care - his hands working their magic as usual. Alternating between running circles with his thumbs and pressing with his palms/fingers. Jenny moaned softly, her hands curling into the sheet beneath. All her tiredness started to seep out of her body, and she felt her eyes getting heavy. Maybe she could get some sleep after all.

He moved up her legs, massaging her calves gently. Her sighs turned louder and deeper. He moved to her thighs, going all the way up to the hem of her skimpy nightdresses, which was up to her waist right now. He kissed her belly and felt the baby move a little. Deeply elated with the feeling, he moved further up towards her chest, which had grown even ampler during her pregnancy. He absolutely loved mother nature for causing that. As he was about to bury his face in there, her hand came up swiftly and covered his face.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ She looked at him sternly.

‘Ummm…I thought…that you liked that and wanted me too. You usually love it when I take you in the morning. And you were making those sounds..’

‘SOUNDS? You jerk - they were not from pleasure. They were from relief, from finding a few moments of comfort from the constant uneasiness in my body. I was trying to get some rest, some sleep, and you thought it would be a great time to start feeling me up? Look at me - haven’t you done enough? I am in this state because of you. I can’t sleep, or walk properly, am moody all the time, can’t even see my legs anymore, constantly get kicked, my face has turned into a ball, and I have turned into a potato. You did this to me. YOU. And you know what the worst part is? Your life is the same. You get to do everything like earlier. You get your 8 bloody hours of sleep where you snore like a pig. You are not stuck in this house because your doctor insisted on taking early maternity leave. You don’t have to give up all your favorite spicy foods because it causes acidity, which could harm the baby. You don’t have to give up wine - heck, I can’t have wine for another 9 months while I am breastfeeding. And even after all this, the baby already loves you more. She kicks when you are around when you sing to her. And when she comes out, you will shower all your love on her and forget all about me.’

Her rant had turned into a sob midway. By the end of it, she had burst into tears. He laid next to her, took her in his arms, and rocked her gently. Her mood swings had become more rapid as her pregnancy progressed, but this was the most extreme one he had seen. He sensed that this one ran deeper, and she was dealing with sensitive issues. He let her cry into his chest, neither saying a word for a bit. He absolutely did not bother to correct her on the gender of the baby either - they didn’t know it was a girl yet, but he knew why she thought it was a girl. He just chose to went along with it.

‘Jenny, baby, I am sorry I misread the situation. I can’t help it, you know. You are so gorgeous, and I am always so attracted to you. And please don’t think for a second that I don’t understand the massive discomfort you are in all the time. If it were up to me, I would take advanced paternity leave, too, and just stay with you throughout. Till you get sick of me and throw me out of the house. Actually, you know what, let me see if I can ask for some work-from-home arrangement.’ He kissed her forehead and wiped her tears. She had stopped crying but still looked sad and was curled into his chest - it was breaking his heart.

‘And yes, I will love our daughter very, very much. She is already a part of my heart. But Jenny,’ He turned her face and looked into her eyes. ‘You are my whole heart. You are the center of my universe. My life revolves around you. You have made me the person I am today. None of that will change after the baby comes, I promise. And if I have ever, even for a second, made you feel otherwise, I am deeply sorry. Please know that is not the case. She will be my princess, but you will always be my queen.’ He caressed her cheeks, kissed her lips, and then her forehead, staying there for a bit while running his hand through her hair.

‘And honey, she will love me for sure. But she will love you the most. You will see the moment you hold her in your arms for the first time. How could she not? A mother is the most special bond for a child at every stage of life. And you will be the best mother in the world. She would want to grow up and mimic you and be just like you. In fact, I hope she is like you - gorgeous and kind and so so loving. So please get these thoughts out of your head. You are the apple of my eye, and she will feel the same about you; I am so sure of that.’

Jenny was all cried out by now. She had no idea how she had gotten to that stage in the first place; it was all so sudden. But she left like a burden had been lifted off her chest. As always, Bheem had understood the root of what was bothering her and fixed it easily. Just like that. Man must have been a magician in another life. He had made her life magical for sure. She was so grateful for having him as her life partner. She hugged him tightly and snuggled into his rock-hard chest.

‘I should be the one saying sorry. I was so unfair in what I said. I know you haven’t had a single drop of wine or any other alcohol since I got pregnant, in solidarity. It is so unfair of me to say your life hasn’t changed - you don’t eat any of the things I can’t eat, you don’t go out with your friends when I am at home feeling sick, you constantly worry over me & look after me all the time, holding back my hair over a sink when I feel nauseous, massaging my feet, stretching my shoulders, bringing me ice cream at 3 am, dealing with all of my mood swings, giving me literally anything I want at any given time. I am so lucky to have you. And the baby will be so lucky to have the best dad in the world.’ She continued while hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest - as gently as possible so as not to put any pressure on her tummy.

His scent from this close was intoxicating for Jenny. His pecks and abs as hard as always. His body was a work of art, and the heavens had bestowed it on her. Did she really just reject his advances a few minutes ago? She couldn’t even remember why - the thought itself seemed so stupid. Right now, all she wanted was for him to worship her body and ravish her fully. She ran her fingers up and down his chest and whispered.

‘Bheem?’

‘Hmm?’

‘I was talking to our doctor yesterday, and she suggested that I should stay more active. Physically.’

‘Oh. Did she suggest a walk or Pilates or yoga or anything like that? We could join some classes if you want - some of my colleagues at work go there.’

‘There is a much simpler solution, which is good for mind, heart, and body - all in one.’ She continued to whisper seductively, taking his hand and placing it on her ass. The second part of her body that he was extremely fond of. He froze for a bit and then decided to toy with her.

‘Oh really? But I remember your doctor said the most important thing is for you to get rest, right? Especially 8 hours of sleep - that’s what you wanted to do earlier as well, no? Why don’t you take a nap, sweetheart? It’s Saturday anyway - you can sleep in for a few hours and get some rest. I will wake you up when breakfast is ready.’ He smiled sweetly at her.

That bastard, he wanted to make her beg. Especially since she had pushed him away earlier. Huh, in his dreams. Two can play this game.

‘You are right, baby. I should get some sleep now.’

‘WHAT?’

‘It’s still 6:30 - I can easily get 3 hours if I crash now. It’s just become so hot, though - even with the AC. Let me get more comfortable first.’

Before he could process any of that, she sat up, took off her nightdress, threw it on the floor, and lay down again, stretching lazily on the bed. Leaving just her undergarments on. Her delicious curves, which had gotten ampler during the pregnancy, were on full display. He forgot the game; heck, he forgot to breathe for a few seconds. The sight of her pregnant belly had always been such a turn-on for him, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it was the final stage of her becoming his fully, forever, as the mother of his child. Or maybe because it reminded him of the night the baby was conceived - which was the most passionate they had ever been. Irrespective, it was having the same instant impact on him. He wanted to repeat the events of that night six months back, but he had to be a lot more restrained now due to her state. He couldn’t turn her on her hands and knees or drag her to the shower or bend her on the table. All of that wild intimacy was impossible, but they could still have a good time.

He bent down and kissed her deeply. She giggled softly, tasting victory in her mouth. As his hands wandered over her body, the giggles turned into desperate moans. He took his sweet time, making her whine and whimper, but finally giving her what she wanted and finally taking what he wanted. He stopped after just one time, though - mindful of not increasing her heart rate too much. He was such a stickler for such things; she both loved and hated that - she knew he wouldn’t budge on that no matter what she tried. No tricks would work when it came to the well-being of both her and the baby. So she just fell back into his arms after the one time. And drifted off to sleep for a few hours. He held her all through - skipping his weekend gardening session. The baby chose to take mercy on them as well - and the soon-to-be parents snuggled into each other. 

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I am worried no real man would ever live up to Bheem in my life coz he is just too perfect. Writing about his sweetness has almost become a self-therapy session :)

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