#drugs cw i guess? not mentioned but implied

[willthelies]

I don't think I've ever put out a miwip on Wednesday and not Thursday so far...

Anyways, under the cut is my contribution to MerMay from my lesbyler Succession crossover. Willa hallucinates a merperson who looks a lot like her childhood best friend, while traveling on the Roy family's yacht.

[urhoneycombwitch]

foreword: have u ever had a buddy so good you jack off with him <3 roommate!Eddie x reader fic for ya. link to roommate!Eddie mlist here

cw: drug mention, R wears a bra, has breasts (implied to be large enough to “spill”) + V, no pronouns used only petnames, nipple play, R is queer (talks about Molly Ringwald in a sexual nature <3), praise kink, mutual masturbation, but as friends, we’re all normal here okay, we Do Not talk about our hidden feelings in this one soz

wc: 2.3k

___

An unfortunate shift of the pillows supporting your body pulls you from the depths of sleep, consciousness surfacing, breaching with a soft huffy groan. 

Waking up on a normal day is hard enough. Waking from a good dream, one where someone’s head was between your legs and everything was swelling lush with heat? Now that’s torture. 

You burrow the cold side of your face under the covers, eyes still screwed shut in defiance of being awoken before the dream could pay off. There’s a heartbeat pounding near the apex of your thighs; with one leg stretched out and the other draped around the curve of your body pillow, your hips roll forward automatically, seeking friction.

The soaked front of your underwear drags against the pillow’s seam, catching your clit on the next glide of your hips. Another soft moan, breath fanning from your parted lips. If you can stay in this grey area of sleep and waking, maybe the horniness will swallow your mind back to the dream…

When someone’s hand brushes your bare shoulder, your movements freeze. Goosebumps prickling in the palm-owner’s wake, you blink against the morning light pouring in through your bedroom window and try to orient yourself.

Your head is nestled in the curve of someone’s neck, left arm tucked secure around their chest. Leg hitched over their waist, cotton boxers band digging at the plush of your thigh- something else solid and warm trapped against their stomach.

A snuffle from your human body pillow, and the waking world hits you sideways, all at once- Eddie. You’d fallen asleep with Eddie last night, after helping him play-test a new hybrid strain and dancing to records all evening, until you both collapsed in a heap of giggles. In your bed. 

Which means that you’ve been humping Eddie’s leg in your sleep. And the thick length trapped under your thigh belongs to him, too. 

Before you can even fully process or think up an escape plan holding the least amount of embarrassment for you both, Eddie’s stretching the arm that isn’t cupping your shoulder up and out with a long yawn. 

His hips shift, pressing himself into your leg unintentionally, and you can feel the moan that rumbles through his body- at your ear, vibrating under your hand on his bare chest. Eddie mumbles something incoherent and sleep-addled, pulling you in closer, nosing at the crown of your head.

“Uh-” your voice comes out half-squeak, half-croak, not fully pushing off Eddie but keeping your frame tight enough to roll away at a moment’s notice. “H-hey.”

Eddie’s palm smooths down the plane of your upper back, stopping at the wide band of your bra. He makes another noise, this time a bit less sleepy- and then he, too, freezes, all those points of contact along the length of your own body stiffening, muscles tensed with realization. 

“Oh, fuck. Shit.”

Eddie’s voice is like rocks on pavement, three shades of gravelly, really not helping your whole ‘wet as a river’ situation, one that he can probably feel leaking onto his bare leg at this point. He doesn’t immediately roll away, though; he remains in that freeze-mode, tense and poised, holding you against the span of his side still.

Well. As frozen as one can be with a throbbing case of morning wood.

“I guess we… fell asleep,” you say, carefully, adopting the same cat-like stillness, the pause before a big leap. “Sorry-”

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. Jesus.” Eddie uses the hand that’s not cradling your shoulder to scrub down his face. This close, nestled into his neck, you can feel his loose hair tickling your cheek, the light scratch of his day-old stubble against your forehead when he speaks. “I’m gonna… go take care of this. And then maybe. Breakfast? Christ. Can’t think. All my blood’s elsewhere right now.”

You breathe a chuckle. His arm is still wrapped around you. 

“Yeah. Okay. Or you could just- take care of it. Here, I mean. With me.”

Eddie’s breath stops, actually stops, then stutters back into steady rhythm under your hand. “...yeah?”

He sounds unsure but curious, excitement bleeding into the edges of that one word as your thumb sweeps across the spot where his ribcage meets. “Yeah. Be doing me a favor, too- I was kind of in the middle of a… a good dream. Prob’ly me that woke you up, anyways.”

Eddie’s hand drops from your shoulder, slithers back to his own space, disrupting your head rest briefly- until you realize he’s doing it to make enough room for you both to stretch out flat (on your mattress that was barely designed for one full-grown person). 

“A good dream,” Eddie parrots, as you both re-situate under the thin cover of your floral-patterned top sheet. Shoulder to shoulder, skimming the heat from each other’s bare skin as you stare resolutely at the ceiling, there’s a frizzy mass of black hair in your periphery. A hint of a smile in Eddie’s voice as he asks, “What were you dreamin’ about?”

You can feel the rippling shift of his bicep as his arm moves, hand sliding unseen beneath the sheets- a sharp inhale as his hand finds purchase over the bulge in his boxers. 

In response, your own hand follows the contoured path to the spot below your navel, toying with the band of your panties before slipping underneath. Cupping yourself, feeling the heated slick coat your fingers before dragging it back up to rest your middle against the beating pulse of your clit- “Ah- um. Was dreamin’ about. Uh. Molly Ringwald.”

A few days from your latest John Hughes marathon, it’s the first feasible famous person that comes to mind. Luckily, Eddie just laughs, in a stilted gasp when his fist finds his aching cock- “Oh, fuck- yeah? Redheads do it for you these days?”

“Uh huh.” Maybe if you keep the focus on someone else, you’ll both be able to come out of this event unscathed. Walk away with your hands clean- er. Well. Nope. 

A better analogy is gonna have to wait, because your abdomen’s tightening with each pass of your wet finger over your clit, pleasure licking and sparking, the usual slow-build to orgasm forming with shocking rapidity.

“What was she doing?” Eddie, sounding strained and strung-out already (really makes you wonder how long you’d actually been using each other, in sleep, grinding and working the other person up), hand moving in long strokes- “In your dream, I mean. Licking you out? Did she use fingers?”

It’s not like you haven’t heard Eddie’s dirty talk before- in fact, you helped cultivate it, years ago when he was nervous for a third date and wanted some advice. You’ve coached him on sex techniques, he’s given his own expertise, you’ve both appraised the other's nudes, for christ’s sake- this is just a natural extension of your friendship. Your closeness. 

Eddie’s feeling awfully close, now, his arm bumping against yours with each pass of his fist over his dick, your leg periodically grazing the downy hair of his shin as your hips jolt upwards, into the electricity stemming from the pad of your finger. 

Choking on your words around a bright surge of pleasure- “Y- yeah. Her mouth. Fingers. All of it.”

“Fuck.” Eddie’s form lurches, doing a half-crunch forwards- risking a glance, you catch a glimpse of the sweat beading at his temples, the dark slant of his brow in concentration, jaw working through the grit of his teeth- “Why don’t you use some fingers, then.”

Like he’s got you under some sort of command spell (because you’re not touching the alternatives with a ten-foot pole), you obey, middle and ring fingers curling into the tight channel of your cunt. There’s a spot you hit on your front wall, gummy and responsive, muscles reacting on instinct by contracting and spasming around your fingers.

You’re close already, panting, head tipped back against the bottom sheet, neck bared, eyes squeezing shut at the wave of pleasure that begins to pulse insistently. “I’m- fuck, Eddie. Keep talking, please-”

“So good,” Eddie says, almost funny in how quick he is to interrupt your pleading. “So good for me. Sound so wet, too, bet you’re soaking…”

You are, in fact, rivulets of slick joining into one just under the globes of your ass, cooling and sticky, a bit uncomfortable but since it’s laundry day and you feel this good you can’t really bring yourself to care.

A half-gasp whimper as you writhe your pelvis up, again, chasing that edge, tantalizingly close, the wet noises from your weeping cunt and plunging fingers spurring Eddie on.

“That’s it, baby.” He’s encouraging even in his own heady fog of pleasure (must’ve had a good sex-talk coach), voice low and rough at your ear as he drops his chin to get closer. “Tell me what you need, hm? Lemme get you there.”

“Need you- you, to…” Frustrated by your lack of breath, in lieu of communicating with words you slide your fingers from yourself, seeking Eddie’s hand before you can overthink the action. You leave a trail of slick against his hip bone, and Eddie releases himself to give you his hand- moaning, cock twitching, as you coat your own heated wetness over his dry palm. 

This time, when you both get your hands back on yourselves, it’s with a tandem whine, Eddie’s ending with a hiss through teeth- “Fuck. Fuck, yes. So wet. So good.”

“Yeah?” Like you never left, your pussy molds easily to the shape of your three fingers again. Your other hand leaves your side to paw at your clothed breast, nipples peaking through the lace. “I gotta- I’m gonna take my bra off. Please.”

You don’t actually wait for permission, but Eddie gives it anyways as you slide the cups down, babbling encouragement- “Shit, sweetheart, yeah. Whatever you gotta do. So good for me, tellin’ me what you need. Good job.”

One day, you’re gonna regret telling Eddie you get off on praise, but not today; with one nipple pinched firmly between thumb and forefinger, your other breast spills to the side, resting against Eddie’s upper arm.

He groans, from his toes, fist slipping over his cock with ease thanks to your contribution. The sounds filling your small room are obscene, sex-dipped moans and glossy wet hand movements all reaching a crescendo as both your hips jerk up at the same time.

Keeping the same pace against your clit as Eddie’s keeping on his dick, the spark of pleasure has turned into a roar that swims up to your ears, a white-out of an orgasm fast approaching each time the heel of your palm slams into your clit. 

“Eddie- jesus, Eddie- Eddie Eddie Eddie-”

You’d feel sheepish about how desperate you sound if Eddie wasn’t matching your energy two-fold. His lanky frame thrashes when your speech devolves into a repetition of his name, keening as his fist staves off tipping over the edge with a tight ring at the base of his cock- “That’s it, baby, y’can do it, angel. Come on. Come with me. Please, please-”

With a final cruel twist to your breast, you come undone, orgasm spooling heat throughout your whole system, Eddie’s name unraveling in a long cry. Eddie follows you, fucking up into his fist, ropes of cum shooting to the top of the sheets tent he’d made, hunching against the spasms crawling up his abdomen. 

You ride the last of your orgasm out on the stretch of three fingers, releasing your nipple when the pressure turns to a twinge of pain. Under the covers, your bare chest heaves around the stretched elastic band of your shoved-down bra; with shaky, uncoordinated hands, you reach behind and beneath yourself to undo the hooks, flinging the offending clothing in the general direction of your hamper.

Eddie chuckles, breathless, bellows of his ribs nudging your forearm as he sinks back into his (your) pillow. “Christ. Good thing it’s laundry day.”

There’s no room for shame, no ounce of you that wants to dwell on what this could mean, right now- although there’ll be plenty of time for that later. As it stands, you’re both swathed in a quiet, post-sex bliss, neither wanting to disturb the peace. 

In a dreamy haze, you take note of little things- the drag of Eddie’s pinky against the back of your hand. The glint of his rings stored in a neat line atop your nearby dresser. A block of mid-morning sunshine from the window cast over the bed, prickling at your legs with warmth.

After a few minutes of this, Eddie sits up, mumbling apologies when you snatch the sheets to keep yourself covered. “You want first shower?”

He looks at you over his shoulder, down the lovely arc of his nose, brown eyes tender and staying on you for a beat too long. Squirming under his gaze, you find anywhere else to look (other than the pale slope of his back, smattered and dotted with freckles), shaking your head. “Nope. All yours.”

You flick your interest back to the ceiling as Eddie pulls up his boxers, grimacing at the mess he’s made of your sheets; before leaving, he bends to scoop up your tossed bra, snapping his own underwear to emphasize- “I’ll start this load before showering, then I’ll come back for your bedding.”

At your nod, Eddie leaves to clank around in the laundry closet; then there’s a rusty squeak of the shower handle, a subsequent rush of water, and Eddie’s pleasant husky humming floats down the hall through the open doors. 

You roll onto your front with a contented sigh, burying your nose in the pillow Eddie was just lying on- it smells like him, now, smoky and spicy and familiar. 

You spend the rest of his shower time coming up with a good excuse to save this pillowcase from being washed.

[sweet-herbal-peach-tea]

TKATB Theories

Evidently spoilers ahead for chapters 1 and 2!!

This is my analysis and theories based on 3 character's we got intense lore drops for including Sol, Crowe, and Hyugo.

CW: mentions of drugs, and implied abuse,

SPOILERS UTC!

Credit for header goes to the wonderful @arklayraven

HYUGO

So, the recent lore drop for Hyugo was crazyyyy. The whole thing about him and Geo being brothers was implied especially with Geo's introduction on Fantasia's twt where he talks about disliking Hyugo. There definitely has to be a reason beyond sibling bickering to why Geo dislikes Hyugo. Whether it's Hyugo's vigilante tendencies or his connection with a potential crime syndicate.

One of my theories is that possibility Geo and Hyugo's father are a part of the syndicate or some kind of organizer. The reason Geo possibly despises Hyugo so much could be due to the fact he believes Hyugo is so heavily intertwined in the world of crime? I guess we'll find out in the next few chapters??

SPEAKING OF HYUGO'S CONNECTIONS TO CRIME?? THE SECRET ENDING??

Okay so idk if Hyugo is skipping town in both endings but I think regardless of what choices we've made he'll be skipping town bc of the events that took place in the theatre. Whether we were present or not. What I think hints towards this is the particular ending we get when we go to the arcade and when Hyugo asks us to "take care of Sol". Then he smiles and leaves. It may not be as obvious at face value, but I do think we won’t see him for a good while.

ALSO, the deal he made with Sol??

I think it has to do something with definitely gathering information on us, or it could be as someone else said supplying Sol with sleeping pills. However, I think it's implied that Sol does unfortunately missuses them, but they are intended for Sol to be able to get sleep.

More than likely I think the simpler version of their deal would consist of Hyugo keeping quiet of Sol's list of many many crimes, and Sol doing the same for him.

CROWE

I think will generally be the shortest, however I think my theories for him are more based on context clues and reading between the lines rather than baseless conjecture.

As we know literature and double meanings play an extremely important role in this visual novel. We see this in reference to Anabel Lee and the constant references between our past and the poem and how each verse links each chapter.

Where getting to in this is during Crowe's route when he asks for the MC's opinion on Marie Antionette. In the answers we give he seems to take them to heart, and when a negative opinion of her is brought up he seems to take them strangely to heart.

It is clearly evident is some way shape or form Crowe is somehow connected to the man that took our farm away. I think it is most likely that he is Crowe's father. Crowe evidently feels guilty about the place he takes and the role that he is forced into in regard to our debt. He more than likely can’t say anything either out of guilt or second party purposes. Regardless he is obviously trying his best to support the MC from the sidelines in any way he can.

I love Crowe… :( My sweetybear snookums pie…

SOL

ughhhh this man.

I love him but he's clearly insane. Okay let's talk about him bc I have so much to say.

My first theory unfortunately is my least favorite, and it is that potentially MC is not Sol's first soulmate, and he is projecting an image of someone else long gone onto us as the MC.

My reasoning behind this theory is because of his views of rebirth, death, and life. Specifically on two occasions that really made me think of this.

During the conversation you have with him in the library after making the decision to sit on his lap you ask him about his interpretation of the poem Annabel Lee, which the game takes heavy inspiration from. During this conversation Sol speaks of "being separated by death" and it's followed by Sol's responds in a fast dialogue something along the lines of "I won’t. it won’t happen again." Which leads me to believe we may potentially remind him of someone in his life that has passed.

There's also a second dialogue during day 02 which sparked this idea, in which based on the player's pronoun options Hyugo says something along the lines of "you remind me of her/him/them." It's unknown if Hyugo and Sol are childhood friends, but if it is likely then it may confirm that we remind Hyugo and Sol of an entirely separate person.

The only thing that sways me away from this theory other than the fact I detest the idea of it is during Crowe's route on day 02 when Sol mentions something about how…

"It has always been you, Ichabod."

This line could imply a multitude of things really. This could also imply that he generally detests the family due to the fact that they play a role in the MC's suffering. However, for now, I'll diverge into a separate theory that definitely more likely being Sol somehow knows us from childhood.

I like the theory that a fanfiction author pointed out that our farm may have been near the sea, and the reason why Sol detests it so much is due to the fact we the MC were separated from him, and the sea may remind him of that.

There are also these implications of the flowers in his hair in Fantasia's braiding hair post with the "forget me nots" in his hair.

I also believe the key carries around him has something to do with our past as well. Given that in fantasia ask box when someone asked about how Sol and MC first met, he actively fiddles and plays with the key that he wears? Where does it unlock? Where does it go to?? Only the lord knows.

BUT ALSO?? SEPERATE NOTE?? FINAL THEORY AND IMPLICATION?? THE NSFW ENDING ON DAY 02??

Seeing Sol's back in the last CG absolutely broke my heart. It's clear that his back is riddled with bruises and burn scars clearly from recent abuse. (after my second check I also noticed his stomach with bruises??)

Obviously out of respect for fantasia's terms I will not link it nor post it, but it's there in game and I recommend other theorists checking it out.

The reason why I say recent is due to the fact that if they were just scars, we most likely would have seen the marks features in Day 01's NSFW art, seeing as it also has his stomach exposed.

Again, this all conjecture, and they could be in places we couldn’t have seen.

On the subject of scars, I think it's also evident that Sol is more than likely hiding a scar on his neck or some sort of burn scar behind it. He's extremely self-conscious about his looks, and Fantasia has stated that his choker will more than likely stay on at all times when he's with his soulmate.

The side however, and its coverage eludes me considering the only time we've seen Sol's neck is in art Fantasia has given us (but his neck is covered with a scarf or ribbon). The only time we see a little smidgen of his neck is in the Day 01 NSFW ending, but it's barely anything to form a for sure statement on!

I think here is where I'll wrap up my theories for now!! Thank for reading this extremely long yap fest! Fantasia if you are reading this I just wanted to say I love your game and I love Sol!! Hope he knows this very much! Thank you for your hard work and I hope your internship goes well!

Very excited for the future of this wonderful game! I will now go lock in for finals season! This is peach signing off!

[forest-hashira]

Cool Touch

hello hello everyone!!! i know i just updated Noble Blood a few days ago, but the mental image of this one wouldn't leave me alone, so i went ahead and wrote it. this is the first of my entries for @threadbaresweater's "summertime (and the livin' is easy)" collab event! my chosen prompt for this was gojo + sunburns. not much happens here, but nonetheless i hope you enjoy it! also as usual this is not proofread at all so please forgive any mistakes haha

read on ao3 | wc: ~1.9k | cw: gender neutral reader, ambiguous relationship (can be read as romantic or platonic!), kinda implied autistic gojo (mentions of sensory issues & such), sunburns (obviously), that's pretty much it!

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding.”

Your words earned you a glare from Satoru as he stood in the doorway. His sunglasses had slipped down his nose as he looked at you, and for once, the dark lenses stood out less against his skin than the stark blue of his eyes.

“Do I look like a liar?” he retorted, opening the door a bit wider so you could come inside.

“More like a lobster,” you said as you stepped around him, before you could even really think about the words. “Sorry! Too soon, I guess,” you added quickly, dancing away from him as he reached out, probably to pinch you in retaliation for your comment on his appearance.

“Yeah, too soon,” he grumbled, shutting the door. “I don’t think I slept at all last night, I was so uncomfortable.”

“That’s what you get for not reapplying sunscreen like we told you to.”

“‘We’?” Satoru asked indignantly, dropping down to sit in one of his dining table chairs as he looked up at you with wide eyes. “Who else told me to reapply?”

“Me, for starters.” As you spoke, you set the shopping bag down on the table in front of you and began to pull out the things Satoru had asked for: multiple bottles of aloe vera gel, four flavors of ice cream, a box of popsicles, ice packs to be stuck in the freezer for later, and a few large bottles of water – your own addition, not something Satoru had requested. “And Suguru, Shoko, Kento—”

“Nanamin??”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “He does actually kind of like you, you know. And we’ve talked about the interrupting thing.”

“Right,” he sighed. “Sorry. I’ll put the money in the jar later.”

“Good,” you hummed. You tried to hand him the receipt from the drug store then, but he waved you off.

“Just leave it on the kitchen counter when you grab spoons,” he told you, leaning against the back of his chair, though h e quickly sat up straight again with a hiss when his skin made contact with the wood. “Hurryyyy,” he whined as you walked off. “I’m literally going to die if you’re not slathering me in gel in the next five seconds.”

“First of all, why the fuck did you have to phrase it like that?” You opened the silverware drawer, grabbing two spoons for the various ice creams you had gotten. Before you left the room, you stuck the receipt to the fridge with one of Satoru’s kitschy little magnets – you were pretty sure the one you grabbed was some sort of fish, but it was a little chipped and faded, and you didn’t bother to look at it for too long before you were walking away again. “Second of all, you are not going to die, you’re just uncomfortable.”

“And itchy. Soooooo fucking itchy.” Satoru was quick to snatch one of the spoons from you, already having the pint of cotton candy flavored ice cream in his lap. 

You wrinkled your nose at the sight, never quite able to understand how he was able to enjoy the flavor, but you said nothing as you came to stand behind his chair. Setting your own spoon on the table, you picked up one of the bottles of aloe gel.

“This might be cold on your skin,” you warned, though he barely acknowledged your words with a hum, his mouth too full of pink and blue ice cream for him to be thinking about much of anything. With a shrug, you squeezed some of the gel out into the palm of your hand, then set the bottle aside. You took a moment to rub the gel between your hands to warm it up a bit, then placed your hands on his tomato red shoulders.

Immediately, Satoru jumped, making an almost hilarious squawking sound as he moved away from your touch. “What the hell?” he demanded, ice cream and spoon still clutched in his hands. His eyes were open wide and his sunglasses had slipped all the way down his nose, seeming to cling to his face for dear life. “Warn a guy next time!”

More than a little shocked by his reaction, you blinked dumbly at him for a moment. “But… I did warn you?” Your brows furrowed as you spoke, and you cocked your head a bit as you looked at him, more confused than anything else.

“You definitely did not,” Satoru argued, now scowling at you.

“I said ‘this might be cold’,” you reminded him. “That counts as a warning.”

“But you didn’t say it would sting!”

Though part of you wanted to roll your eyes at Satoru for his dramatic reaction to the feeling of the aloe gel on his skin, you managed not to; you were well aware of how jumpy and antsy he could be in moments of vulnerability – physically or emotionally – and that generally he didn’t take well to perceived judgment during vulnerable times. Instead, you took a deep breath before apologizing.

“I’m sorry for not warning you about that part, too, Toru. If you’d like to come and sit back down I’ll put the gel on your sunburn. It’ll help you feel more comfortable in your skin, for at least a little bit.”

He eyed you for a moment longer, and you were certain if he had cat ears, they’d be in airplane mode as he decided whether to trust you again or not. Eventually, he let out a somewhat exaggerated sigh, then walked back over to the chair you still stood behind. “I appreciate and accept your apology,” he said quietly, settling down and taking another bite of his cotton candy ice cream. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched him, glad that he was comfortable enough with you to be vulnerable, and that he trusted you to take care of him this way. He’d come a long way since you’d first met; he’d never been standoffish, really – he was the life of every room he walked into, party or not – but he’d kept anything he deemed “too personal” close to his chest, not wanting to give anyone a reason to dislike him. He’d been slow to open up to you, but once he’d realized you could be trusted? He’d become your closest friend, constantly in your space whenever you were in the same place. It had surprised you, the sheer amount of love he was capable of, when he deemed someone worthy – and trustworthy – enough to show that side of himself, but you felt honored to have his love directed at you.

Even if he was dramatic and difficult sometimes.

“Thank you,” you told him. “Now, I’m about to touch your back and shoulders again, alright? It might be cold and it might sting again, but hopefully not much.”

“‘Kay,” he replied around a mouthful of his frozen pink and blue treat, and you shook your head at him, a small chuckle escaping you.

Doing just as you’d said, you placed your hands on Satoru’s shoulders again, spreading the gel over as much of his skin as you could reach from your current angle: across the tops of his shoulders and down around to his collarbones; up his neck to his undercut; back down below his shoulder blades, rubbing it all in and doing your best to make sure it wasn’t layered on too thick, knowing that would aggravate his sensory issues.

Satoru tensed and shuddered for a fraction of a second when your hands came in contact with his fried skin, but he quickly relaxed again, letting you do all the work for him, since the worst of his burn was on his back and shoulders, where he couldn’t get a great angle to rub the gel on himself.

Grabbing the bottle of gel, you squeezed a bit more of it out into your palm. “I need to get the rest of your back,” you told him. “Could you lean forward a little more so I can reach it better?”

“Sure.” He did as you asked without complaint, even setting aside the now empty pint of ice cream and reaching for one of the water bottles you’d bought, twisting off the cap and taking a large sip of it.

“Someone’s thirsty,” you couldn’t help but tease. It was so rare to see Satoru drink anything that wouldn’t give anyone else a cavity just from looking at it that you had to make note of it any time it happened.

He grumbled at your words, but if he blushed, it was impossible to distinguish from the red that already tinted his cheeks. “I am thirsty.”

“I know,” you soothed. “That’s why I bought those. I always get really thirsty when I get a sunburn.” You uttered another warning before placing your gelled up hands further down his back than before, once again working the substance into his skin as well as you could. From the new angle, you could tell the burn ended where the waistband of his swim trunks had been, so you didn’t let your hands wander any places they weren’t needed. Though you didn’t need another reason to keep your hands to yourself (so to speak), the way Satoru shivered when your fingers dipped the tiniest bit below the waist of the current shorts he wore was reason enough.

“I’m done with your back,” you told him after a bit, stepping out from behind the chair to better look at the snowy haired man you had just thoroughly aloe-d. “Do you need help with getting the gel anywhere else?” The smile he shot you struck you right in the heart.

“No, I think I can do the rest of it. Thank you.” 

Keeping eye contact with him suddenly felt too intense, so you looked away. Your gaze landed on the open water bottle on the table, and you were pleased to see that he’d nearly emptied the bottle; the sight made you smile.

“You’re welcome,” you said back quietly. Then you remembered the ice packs and popsicles, so you picked them all up and walked back into his kitchen, sticking them all in wherever you could them, in between all his boxes of frozen chicken nuggets and other microwave meals – his kitchen skills were minimal, and the man knew what he liked, so you couldn’t really fault him for sticking with the ease of frozen food.

When you returned from the kitchen, you saw Satoru beginning to rub the aloe gel along his arms, so you were satisfied that you had completed the job you’d come here to do. You pulled your keys out of your pocket, making sure you had your phone before you made for the door.

“Wait!” Satoru called after you, and you stopped, turning back to look at him. His brows were furrowed, and his expression was some combination of confused and… dejected? “Where are you going?”

“You said you didn’t need any more help with the aloe, so I was gonna leave you to it.”

“Oh.” His face fell at your words, but he spoke again anyways. “Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

You tilted your head slightly. “Not really, no. Why?”

Satoru perked up so quickly it was enough to give you secondhand emotional whiplash. “Oh, good! I was hoping you’d stay, maybe watch a movie or something?”

You couldn’t help but smile at him, with his sunglasses hanging crooked on his nose, his frosty white hair falling into his eyes, his boyish grin aimed full force at you.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I’ll stay. What movie were you thinking?”

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @peachdues @ghost-1-y @witchbybirth

@marinnnnnnnnn @dr-runs-with-scissors @enchantedforest-network

divider by @/saradika

[griefabyss69]

Patterns in the Ivy

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

[ AO3 ]

Week Three: Rough, Lingerie, Aftercare, Sneaking Around | WC: 6K | Rated: E | CW: Public sex, implied/referenced drug usage (weed), Eddie is a drug dealer, mentions of Steve's parents being terrible

Steve needs something to help him as he tries not to drown under all of his assignments. It turns out the guy who used to be Hawkin's pot dealer ended up at the same college as him, and he's hotter than ever.

Excerpt

"How'd you guess the color?" he asks, stepping in close, reaching out to run his fingers over the ribbon. It feels nice, he hopes he gets to keep it later.

Eddie's eyebrows raise and one of those like, sun-over-the-horizon, illuminating-all-of-the-darkness smiles creeps onto his face and Steve has to kiss him and kiss him again until the violent urge to mash their faces together passes.

"You said it was the same as your favorite sweater," Eddie says. "I was worried I got it wrong, but I had a good excuse ready."

Steve laughs, sliding his hands up Eddie's chest while he can.

"Let's hear it, stud," he says with a stupid wink.

Eddie looks utterly pleased.

"Limited supply at the craft store," he says. "So I just got what I thought you'd like."

"Cute, believable," Steve muses, giving in and kissing him again. "It'd work on me."

[oh-stars]

Eddie's Quest

Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 916 words | CW: implied bad Harrington parents, rec drug use | Rating: T

--

There isn’t much from Steve’s childhood that Eddie knows about and what he does know, hasn’t always been good. Steve just doesn’t share a lot in general though. He’s content in living in the present, which isn’t something Eddie really knows how to do. So when Steve does share something positive, something that he holds dear from his childhood, Eddie latches on.

Their anniversary is coming up, only a few weeks away, and Steve mentioned he misses the way a babysitter made this specific kind of cake. Black something. Steve couldn’t remember the name of it so now Eddie’s on a mission to try and figure it out. 

Eddie finds himself at Claudia Henderson’s doorstep on a Tuesday morning with flowers in his hand. When she opens the door, Eddie doesn’t even let her say hello before he’s giving them to her with a, “I need your help finding this really obscure recipe to make Steve happy and I have a feeling it’s going to be a nightmare because I can’t bake for shit. Will you please help?” 

Claudia coos at him. “Oh you’re the sweetest, Eddie! Of course, I’ll help! Come in, come in.” 

They end up pouring over all her cookbooks, and then Claudia starts a phone tree with Karen, Sue, and Joyce for their recipes. All five of them converge at the library, their personal cookbooks in hand, to take over one of the study rooms the library offers. “If we don’t have it,” Claudia told him as they settled in, “then the library will.” 

Eddie can’t even argue as they get to work. 

“Did he say what it tasted like?” Karen asks as she starts flipping through a book. Joyce had the brilliant idea of marking where all the dessert sections started in each book, so each woman was currently flipping away while Eddie tried to remember every detail Steve had mentioned. 

“He mentioned cherries,” Eddie groans, scrubbing at his face. “And it’s a cake.” 

“Could be topped with cherries,” Sue hums as she sorts through her books. 

“Or a cherry filling,” Claudia points out. 

“Steve has a sweet tooth,” Joyce adds after a while. “He likes rich flavors, so it’s probably on the sweeter side than a refreshing dessert.” 

Eddie shrugs. “I guess?” 

“You know,” Karen says as she taps her fingers against her book. “I think I remember a few of Steve’s nannies over the years. They were always at the school for pick up. Do you know which one has the recipe?” 

“Does she still live here?” Sue asks. “It would save us some time to just ask.” 

“No, no,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “He said his parents didn’t let him keep in touch and she moved away. He doesn’t know where.” 

The women share a knowing, quiet look amongst them. Eddie’s not sure he’s fluent in their silent mom language, but he knows a judgy look when he sees one. 

Eddie jumps up and paces the room, retracing every line of thinking that particular conversation followed. The problem is, they were high as fuck when Steve brought it up, sharing tidbits between big bites of the ice cream they’d found in their freezer. 

“You would have loved her,” Steve had said with a mouthful. He was laying on Eddie, legs hanging off the arm of the couch and propped against Eddie’s side so they could share the pint. “She liked to read a lot, always had books for me.”

“What kind of books?” Eddie asked. 

“Think ones.” Steve shrugged, eyes glazed over. “Fairy Tales, but the real gross stuff. So my dad wouldn’t get mad,” he added quickly. 

Gross fairy tales, Eddie thinks. He knows what Steve’s talking about, the original dark shit that they used to scare children into behaving from the grim–

“German!” Eddie screeches as he slams his hands on the table. To their credit, none of the mothers jump except for Joyce. “She was German!” 

Karen looks up at the ceiling, eyes narrowed in concentration. Claudia taps her fingers against her temple. Sue hums as she checks a few of the spines on the other stacks. Joyce leans back, crossing her arms as she stares off into space. 

“That has to help,” Eddie tries, quieter, “right?” 

“Maybe,” Karen says as she blinks back at the cookbook. She trades it for another. “And you’re sure it had cherries?” 

“Oh!” Joyce jumps up, hands flailing as she grabs for a book off Claudia’s stack. “I know it!” 

They all crowd around the book, heads tucked together as Joyce flies through the sections and slaps a finger against a chocolate cake. “Black Forest Cake,” she says, panting a little. 

Eddie moves the book to read the description. “This is it!” 

Their cheering gets them kicked out, but none of them seem to mind as they tote their cookbook stacks back to their cars. Claudia and Sue are already talking about commandeering Karen’s kitchen to bake it in a few days, since her kitchen is bigger, and they can all help – make a day of it with wine and gossip. He doesn’t care how it gets made, just that he can take it to Steve, to show him he listens and cares and loves him so much. He can’t wait to share this cake with him, to make it for him every year just because. His quest will be complete and he’ll get to live happily ever after with a very happy, well-fed prince. Best quest yet.

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[writingfics-passingtime]

Hello my love!! For the mistake prompts:

Miracle Baby by Nothing but Thieves + Dealers choice!

This is such a fun idea😮‍💨 Happy drabbles!

Wasting My Time

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Miracle Baby

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (romantic, no pronouns used but disclaimer that this one feels more female-implied than others)

Word Count: ~1450

CW: Swearing, mentions of drugs, explicitly implied sex

Note: First, I love the subtle roast calling this a “mistake prompt” thank you Ella 😂 this song is so cool and gave me hazy dive bar feelings, and going-home-with-hot-stranger feelings. Hope you enjoy!

Matt hated things like this.

His fingers idly tapped against the cool condensation blanketing the beer bottle on the bar in front of him, halfway torn between thinking about his trial in the morning and debating whether to go out tonight. Either way, he was itching to leave.

It was loud. The obnoxious kind of loud, not the kind where you could feel the appreciation for life and joy and merriment. Being dragged along to these stupid law school alumni mixers was the worst way to spend a Sunday evening. Yeah, you hated things like this.

But you’d just spotted the perfect distraction.

At your 10 o’clock. Tall, dark, handsome, sitting alone at the bar. Better yet, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here, so, common ground.

You made your way through the masses, through the thick and clogged atmosphere saturated with terrible work-related jokes and the desperation to impress. Everyone else was in a sea of familiar faces but not you. You didn’t go to Columbia for law school. You only came because your roommate was too shy to come alone and promised she wouldn’t abandon you the exact way she did about five minutes ago.

Besides, you’d only lived in New York for three months and you’d spent so much energy settling into your dream law job that you hadn’t given much attention to making friends. Or to sex. But that was about to change.

Hence, the lone wolf at the bar.

After ordering some kind of sour cherry and lime cocktail with an over-the-top name, you settled on the stool next to the man. He didn’t acknowledge you and a quick glance at his walking stick gave you an indication as to why not.

“Let me guess,” you turned your head towards him and he looked your way. “Criminal law?”

He nodded, smiling with half his mouth. “What gave it away: the cheap suit, or the air of constant dread?”

You laughed, and the sound of it made Matt’s smile crack open. “You didn’t hand me a business card the second I sat down. And the lack of white powder around your nose.”

He laughed back, and you were successfully distracted.

His name was Matt, you soon learned. Past knowing he practised criminal law and that he graduated from Columbia you learned nothing more about his law career. You told him you were new in town, he told you he’d lived here his whole life, you told him you were grateful to meet someone so normal who’s been around forever and still thinks this city is worth staying in. He asked you why you chose New York and you said it just seemed like the right place to be. You couldn’t explain in. You blushed when you admitted it and your heartbeat picked up, so maybe you were doubting that decision.

He asked you about your hometown and turned his body completely towards you. You told him about it, about escaping on scholarship to Princeton, and your knees were soon gently resting against his. Somewhere throughout the course of the conversation, he rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to just below his elbows. He took his time, made a subtle show of it.

You sipped slowly, Matt noticed; you weren’t here to get drunk. The citrus of your drink complimented the lavender in your shampoo, body wash, whatever the fuck it was that was the calmest thing in this place. It was clear you two were getting on well. So much so, no one bothered you.

Finally, he asked: “Where do you practise?”

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head and pulled a knotted cherry stem from your teeth. “You and I are having a nice conversation here, Matt,” you chuckled. “All I do, all fucking day, is talk about law, think about law, breathe the fucking law-”

He grinned and held up an apologetic hand. “Message received.”

“Let’s talk about anything else.”

“Okay,” he held up that same hand towards you, putting the ball squarely in your court. “Shoot.”

You narrowed your eyes and twirled the stem between your fingertips. After a moment of contemplation, knowing very well where this may lead, you decided that this tall, dark and handsome distraction was worth the risky line.

“Do you think you could beat a grizzly bear in a fight?”

His eyebrows shot up but he didn’t stutter. “Excuse me?”

“No weapons. Pure brawn. One-on-one. Who wins, you or the bear?”

“The bear,” he waved his hand decisively. “No question.”

“Thank god,” you breathed in relief, nursing a smirk behind the stem in your fingers. His puzzled look was his question, so you answered. “Six percent of American men think they could beat a grizzly bear in a fight. Which means, there are about…” you looked around in a estimate head count, “four men in this bar who vastly overestimate their abilities.”

Matt bumped his eyebrows. Another question.

“I’m just making sure you’re not one of the four,” you said after another sip. Your glass was almost empty.

“Oh?” Matt cocked his head and found himself drawn in closer. “And why is that?”

You placed your now-empty glass down, letting it hit with a finality against the wooden bar. “Forgive me if I read you wrong, just seemed like you were searching for a reason to get the hell outta here too.”

Matt let your comment linger, and lifted the bottle to his lips to take another swig. He drained the last little bit and placed it on the counter next to yours. Your heart was beating pretty fast and you tried to calm your cherry-stained breathing, tried to look cool and collected. You wanted him, and you were the perfect distraction.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Your breath in was shaky. Risky. No one else would’ve heard it.

“I’m just making sure I’m not wasting my time,” you said. “It’s not usually that fun, going home with a man who thinks they’re more capable than they actually are.”

He laughed once through his nose and pulled his beaten leather wallet from his coat pocket, placing thirty on the table to cover his beer, your cocktail and a tip for the bartender. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he stood and held his open palm out to you. You took his hand and left your stool with your coat and bag over your other arm. He leaned down, leaned in, so you could hear his husky promise over the sound of the bar. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Sufficed to say, you had never met a more capable man.

His place was nice, his sheets were clean, he was strong and generous and attentive and that was a big problem. Because this was supposed to just be a distraction. A one-night thing. But it was hard to leave his bed at two thirty in the morning, it felt like tearing yourself away. And that was a problem.

Stay, he’d said. He had fresh towels, a toothbrush, he’d call you a cab in the morning after he’d made you coffee. I can’t, you said. On any other night you would have, but tomorrow was a big day. He understood, didn’t press the matter, and he called you a cab after wishing you a twenty-minute goodbye.

It was only at quarter to nine that same morning, when you were walking up the front steps with a takeaway coffee in hand, that you realised you didn’t have any way to contact him other than through your roommate, who might have his information. You didn’t even know Matt’s last name.

Matt thought about you as Foggy prepped the client in hushed whispers from the defence table. As he straightened files and pens and his personal voice recorder, he wondered when he’d run into you again. You’d been a good distraction. Too good. It was like you were still next to him, like he could still smell the cherry and lime, the lavender and honey and-… wait.

You settled next to your boss and put thoughts of last night out of your head, ready and focused to take on the day. It was a big one. For the first time since moving to New York, you were the lead on a case.

Matt’s mind raced as he listened to every whisper in the courtroom, and as he listened to them hush as the judge kicked off proceedings from the bench.

“Are we ready to begin?” Judge Wallace asked in a deadpan, looking straight to the defence’s table. Foggy stood.

“Defence is ready, Your Honour.”

From fifteen feet away, Matt heard the prosecutor stand. He closed his eyes behind his glasses and held in a sigh when he heard your voice say:

“Thank you, Your Honour. The State is ready to proceed.”

Oh… fuck.

[miyyaori]

better treatment

➳ il dottore x gn!reader

➳ cw: DOTTORE, slight gore, implied stockholm!reader, gentle dottie <33

➳ a/n: feeding you freakazoids a late night snack while i get started on the requests!! i LOVED every single one of them and i'll get on them ASAP!!

➳ word count: 705 (a snack)

Cold hands caressing down the middle of your bare back woke you up from your light, drug-induced slumber. Your eyes fluttered open and then closed again tiredly, eyelashes kissing your dusty-pink cheeks. Torso bare, you laid stomach down on what you could only guess was one of Dottore’s dissection tables. Your head was to the side, cheek planted on the chilling metal. You weren’t sure if the metallic smell was from the stainless steel.

You could only hope.

“Ah, there you are.” You could hear the smile in Dottore’s voice. His icy fingers grazed along the sides of your torso, stopping at your waist. He hummed, satisfied, before sharing the silence with you. Goosebumps kissed your skin and you wished you could move; use your vision to warm the aching cold –- oh. You forgot that you had that gift ripped away from you moons ago.

It’s for the better he told you, and maybe it was. It’s an uncontrolled variable, dear. Though, you wished at times that you still had it. It interferes with the results I'm looking for. You didn’t understand how your vision could do how he described, but oh well. There was no igniting the flame on the useless pendant that you used to keep hanging by your hip.

Dottore’s fingers raking through your hair brought you back from your thoughts. His touch was gentle, but too cold to feel comforting. It came to you as a shock feeling Dottores bare fingertips ever so gently massaging your sore scalp.

You could've dozed off right then and there,

But white hot pain burned through you brighter than any star in the night sky. The scalpel slid effortlessly through the skin of your back with perfect precision, and you could feel thick crimson beads pooling at the opening. You wanted to scream, but you clenched your teeth together like it would somehow dull the throbbing burn along your spine.

“Any pain?” a playful tone laced his words. He thought he was being funny. The hand in your hair was pulling gently on your roots but Dottore was keeping your head from moving. You could feel the heat of your skin warming the table beneath you, the cold no longer prickly against your flush body.

“Remind me again of your medication.” Dottore was looking at you through his mask, his lips resting in a slight frown.

“I, uhm…” Your mind was drawing blanks and you couldn't help the pained moans slip past your pale lips. The slur of medical words always went through one ear and out the other. It was as if he was speaking another language. The way he gushed as he listed the side effects of each new medication made the tips of your fingers tingle. On one hand, he knew what he was talking about and there wasn't a single detail he missed; you knew exactly what to expect. On the other hand, it made you feel wary of how happy he was to explain to you about all the negative effects you would experience.

“I expected as much. Lack of mental clarity is commonly associated with your condition.” You could feel Dottore’s hard glare burning into you, disappointed at your lacking response.

Funny he mentioned forgetfulness, though. Often there were times you couldn't recall why you were under his care to begin with. But time and time again, he reminded you that you were with him to get help — that he wanted to help you.

You could feel Dottore slipping something beneath your icy skin. Your mind wasn't allowed to wonder because Dottore was pushing it deeper and deeper into your body. You were gritting your teeth together, praying to the Archons it would stop.

"Shh, shh, shh. Almost there, dear."

Dottore grounded you by running his free hand up the length of your torso and you could feel the effects of his touch in the pit of your stomach.

The needle piercing the flesh of your back, sewing your body back to whole, was nothing compared to the painful throb that ached your body.

“Welcome back, my dear.” Eyes resting for a moment, you imagined that there was a smile on Dottore’s lips as he praised you.

It's what made any of it worth it.

[starsandgutters]

Kevaaron Mind meld/telepathy/mind reading sounds very intriguing if I can request one still? Hope you’re having an amazing day!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

—💖💖

Hello I’m still chipping through requests just 🥲 y’know 🥲 actual job and half marathon training eating my time, how DARE ! 😤

4. Mind meld/telepathy/mind reading [read on ao3]

I made this a Misfits AU so I didn’t have to come up with any logical or scientific reasoning for the telepathy hehe (if you’re unfamiliar with Misfits it’s a show where a load of young offenders get superpowers from a freak storm and each week get into Some Shenanigans involving said powers - also the power you get is based on a regret or character flaw. Like the guy who gets invisibility feels really overlooked and left out, or the guy who has the power to go back in time was a really promising athlete who made a career destroying mistake and wishes he could undo it. You don’t really need any previous knowledge for this - that’s just some fun bonus context!)

Due to the nature of this AU the content warnings are a bit mad this time lmao

CWs: Discussion of food/eating habits/implied disordered eating/food criticism Okay this one is WILD as a CW because it is not explicitly what it says but I HAVE to warn anyway - Implied non-consent, including between family members (this is only in one brief flashback of Nicky’s power, and it is stopped before anything happens. Nicky is also unknowing and unwilling as he wasn’t yet aware of his power) (hopefully if you read my writing you trust me enough to know I’m not throwing in a Macauley twins style twist) Brief mention digit loss (non permanent) References to violence in the Nest (waterboarding, SA, Nathan, Riko breaking a Kevin’s hand) References to Aaron’s trauma (child abuse, drug use, bathroom rehab, Thanksgiving) Non explicit sexual content

“Can you stop talking to me about exy right now? Practice is over. I no longer care.” 

“I need you to care. We have a game this week-”

“And so I will care on Friday.”

“Aaron!”

“I have an important assignment due before then. Do you care about that?”

“It’s different.”

“Right, yeah. Different. As long as it’s only important to you.”

“No. Exy and school are separate. I do far more training than you and still get better grades.”

“You do a humanities subject,” Aaron hisses, turning sharply on his heel and poking Kevin in the chest. It always irritates him when Kevin mentions his better grades. “It is easier to get better grades in, and you’re just barely doing better than me.” 

“Excuses, excuses.” Kevin gives Aaron a shove in the chest to send him back. Aaron glares at him. 

“Watch me try even less in exy,” he says, and Kevin lurches after him. Aaron reaches up to grab his hands before he can shove him again, and they’re so busy tussling they walk right into someone. Aaron jolts as he gets a static shock. From the way Kevin leaps back, Aaron guesses he also felt it. 

“Oh.” The girl stumbles back, looking up at them with big dark eyes widened in surprise. Her water bottle has fallen from her hand. 

“Why on this whole path were you right in front of us?” Kevin snaps in the few seconds it takes him to remember he is Kevin Day. Aaron is already ducking down to grab her water bottle for her.

“He means sorry,” Aaron says, glowering over his shoulder at Kevin. His face softens fractionally when he looks back to the girl. “We weren’t paying attention.”

He hands her bottle back to her and she gives him a timid smile.

“That’s okay,” she says. “Easily done.”

She glances between the two of them, and her smile grows. It makes the skin on the back of Aaron’s neck tighten. He wonders if she’s recognising who they are, but she just side steps out of their way.

“Have a fun night.” She walks off swiftly, giggling to herself. 

Have a ‘fun’ night? Fuckin’ weird choice of words, but okay. Can’t believe this asshole couldn’t even get an apology out before she left.

“You already apologised! Why would I have to do it too?”

“What?”

Aaron winces as he feels something in his head. Like a pulsing shape of irritation. A cloudy, dark area of his brain taken over by it before it melds back into what feels like the normal shape. 

“You said I didn’t even get an apology out.”

“No I didn’t.”

Does he think I’m stupid? I just heard him.

Aaron can hear Kevin’s words, but his mouth is not moving. He blinks, then narrows his eyes, staring hard at him. What the fuck?

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Oh for fuck sake, I don’t have time for-

“Stop playing.”

“Kevin!” Aaron reaches up and grabs Kevin’s face in his hands. Kevin tries to pull away, but Aaron holds tighter. 

His hands are always so cold what is he doing now what is-

Kevin. Look at me. Do you see my mouth moving?

What is he talking about?

“No. So what, this a new trick of your power or something?”

Is that music? Why can I hear music? Where is that coming from?

The music is coming from Aaron, who never manages to hold just one thought at a time. Even as he is trying to think direct messages at Kevin, there’s a background list of everything he needs to get done tonight before he goes to bed, an absent pondering about what he’s going to eat when he gets back to the dorm, and whatever song is currently stuck in his head playing random fragments on loop. 

Kevin. Focus. You’re hearing the music from me.

“I didn’t say-” 

Anything. You didn’t say anything, you thought it. As I am thinking this. (Fuck his jawline is so sharp I swear I could cut my palms on it) That’s what I’m trying to get across. 

Wait. Stop. Slow down.

“Seriously? You’re hearing my thoughts right now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

How?!

I don’t know man probably more of this weird storm shit. It’s always powers (power, power, I still need to get a better grasp on mine before the next game or I’m going to-) when something starts acting up isn’t it?

“Why are yours so fast?”

I don’t know that’s just how I think (fuck was I supposed to email that back today I think so did I actually do it wait yes I did it before-) it doesn’t feel fast to me

“Can you stop jumping around?”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you’re thinking? It’s like multiple voices at once.”

“Yeah, but I just focus on the main one, the others are background noise most of the time. Like thoughts I think without really focusing on them.”

He’s insane.

I’m not insane! It’s not my fault you’re too stupid (his eyes are so fucking green in this lighting) to keep up

“Why are you thinking about my eyes?”

“What?” Aaron feels himself immediately flush.

There it is. The Aaron Minyard blush. Adorable.

“Shut up! I’m not adorable.”

“I wasn’t- Aaron, you can’t just hide when you don’t want to have a conversation.”

Aaron looks down at his hand, but all he sees is the ground. Fuck. His power kicking in without his control again. He looks up at Kevin, who is glaring above his head. Heh. Go invisible and he suddenly thinks I’m taller. (God please let this be only a Kevin thing if I have to hear what Andrew thinks about Josten I’m going to kill myself, and I don’t even want to think what Nicky-)

“I can still hear your thoughts, Aaron. You can’t really hide.” Seconded on Nicky. Maybe we should stick to this so people don’t think I’m a weirdo talking to myself.

I don’t want to (he didn’t mean it like that he was being a dick obviously get over yourself) talk to you anyway 

Aaron takes off at a swift stride back towards the dorm. He’s happy to find that just as if Kevin were calling after him, the voice in his head gets quieter the further away he moves. 

Don’t be childish. Aaron? Aaron! Have you left-

Realising this, Aaron tightens his grip on his bag and starts to jog. His body is already aching from practice, but the desire to escape Kevin Day is a great driving motivator. He runs until the only voice he can hear in his head anymore is his, and as he slows down to catch his breath, his body flickers back into visibility. 

*

Kevin makes his way back to the dorms in a mood. Thankfully, he does not hear the thoughts of anyone he passes on his way there. Which means either this only works for people he knows, or it is tied specifically to Aaron. Aaron who he just thought was adorable. Kevin needs to try and keep a lid on thoughts like those if Aaron can now tune into his frequency. Thankfully Aaron took it as an insult and did his little invisibility bit. Kevin’s not sure what he would have said if Aaron had confronted him about it. How can you lie when someone’s in your head?

As per evidence found in (god I’m so tired I wish I could go to bed my body actually hurts with it) we can draw the conclusion that (and my eyes are burning wait shit I forgot to eat when I came in okay no don’t stop stopping is the enemy just try and get three more paragraphs finished food can be your reward) these findings suggest (that’s a waste of words you already implied that) 

Kevin hears Aaron’s running internal dialogue as he makes his way up the stairs in Fox Tower, growing louder the closer he gets to their dorm. Of course Aaron was so focused on getting to his work he forgot to eat. If only he applied that focus to exy.

Get out of my head Kevin.

Get out of mine.

He hears some mental grumbling from Aaron as he tries to pull his attention back to task, but there’s a background insecurity running beneath his thoughts now of Kevin might still be listening don’t think anything weird don’t think that either he’ll be wondering what weird things you think about oh my god stop. Kevin has to really focus to pick it up beneath the chaotic mess of Aaron’s other thoughts. He doesn’t understand how he can exist with so much going on in his head, but slowly Kevin is learning that if he does just focus in on the main thought, the others sink more into background noise. 

For his part, Kevin is thinking about this week's game as he goes about the kitchen making himself dinner. He’s pulling up stats in his head, marking weaknesses, implementing potential strategies. He’s already got notes on it all, but he’ll run through it countless times mentally before they actually have the game. As he makes himself up a salad, he pulls out a second plate and makes Aaron a sandwich, using some of his salad for the filling and then adding cheese and meat from the fridge.

“Are you trying to keep me out of your thoughts or do you really just think about exy nonstop?” If so that is so sad.

“Shut up.” I made you a sandwich.

You made me a sandwich?

Yes. You forgot to eat. Now you can keep working on your assignment.

“Oh.” That’s uncharacteristically nice of him (does he want something is this a bribe-)

“It’s not a bribe. I just think you should eat, especially after training.” To aid recovery.

“Thanks.” You know if you want to aid recovery (he never eats enough) you really need protein and some carbs (I don’t know how he keeps going) to replace what you burned (I wish he’d take better care of himself)

“I take care of myself.” Take better care of myself than you do. I eat healthy 

Healthy food is only one part of diet you still need to eat enough

I don’t remember asking for your commentary on my diet

Yeah I’m not giving it (I’m just worried about you idiot) you’re just listening to my thoughts 

You don’t have to worry about me

“I don’t.” I can’t help it

“The stoic act doesn’t really work when I can hear what you’re thinking.” I like that he worries about me oh he’s blushing again

“Fuck off.” FUCK OFF! Aaron turns bright pink and then disappears. He reaches out and lifts the plate, taking his sandwich and walking back to the bedroom. The plate appears to float from Kevin’s perspective. Aaron slams the door behind him. Stupid annoying Kevin let him starve for all I care (he made you a sandwich) I can’t deal with this (he wanted you to eat too) this is supposed to be the one place that is mine and now I can’t even have my own brain (it sounds nice when you hear his thoughts all low and close and intimate-) Stop.

Kevin feels a shiver of heat in his stomach. A sudden flush of arousal from nowhere, like hot wax dripping down over him. He shifts his shoulders as if he can shrug it off, shaking his head and sitting with his salad at the island. He’s trying to focus back in on exy but all he can think about now is Aaron, and the flush running down his neck, and how he wants Kevin to take care of himself, and how apparently he likes hearing my thoughts.

Get. Out. Of. My. HEAD!

Kevin winces at the sudden volume blast, but it doesn’t stop his train of thoughts. Thinking of how this would be so good if they were together. How Kevin would be able to get immediate feedback on Aaron’s response to his touches. He really should not be going down this track, since Aaron can hear his thoughts, but the more Kevin tries to think of something else the more he thinks about Aaron beneath him, his mouth to Aaron’s throat, his fingers-

The door to the bedroom slams against the wall with the force it is swung open. Kevin jolts. The doorway is empty, but he can almost see the ominous aura coming from around Aaron’s invisible form. Or maybe he can just sense the irritation in his thoughts so clearly it seems like that.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hears the words twice, spoken and thought, and Kevin panics. Shit shit shit he knew Aaron wouldn’t appreciate it if he knew Kevin was harbouring those kinds of thoughts about him, but he never thought Aaron would actually know. “Kevin.”

Air catches in Kevin’s chest. Everything constricts. The panic of his anxiety a sharp, tight sensation, except then there is a drop in his stomach, and oh. Not just anxiety. His power kicking into play. Kevin feels himself fall backwards. When he lands in time again, he’s back on his feet, and Aaron’s sandwich is floating away from him. The bedroom door slams. (it sounds nice when you hear his thoughts all low and close and intimate-) Stop.

Kevin feels the same warmth drip over him, but this time he immediately brings up an old game on his laptop and puts on his headphones. It doesn’t fully silence Aaron out, he still catches snippets of his essay here and there, and the other random seemingly disconnected thoughts he bounces between, but it’s easier to make it background noise when Kevin has his own attention focused on something else. 

When Nicky comes back and starts moving around the kitchen, Kevin slides one earphone off and listens to him chatter. He looks at Nicky’s face. His mouth is definitely moving. Those are the only words Kevin is hearing. 

Seems to be just Aaron. Then Kevin tries to aim his thoughts towards the bedroom. He has no idea if this actually works, but he visualises it anyway. Can you hear Nicky?

Just you. Distracting me. Again.

So you don’t want me to tell you he brought pastries that you both should absolutely not be eating at this time of the night.

The door to the bedroom opens. Aaron is visible once more and has changed into his pyjamas. His hair is a ruffled mess from where he’s been running his hands through it in stress, a gesture Kevin has seen him do countless times, and he’s wearing his glasses. He looks soft and ruffled and painfully adorable. Aaron flips him off, ears turning pink again. 

“Aaron! I got apple turnovers,” Nicky says, and Aaron beelines around the counter, nudging Kevin with his elbow on his way past. Aaron holds his hands out demandingly. Nicky sets the box on the counter and carefully slides it across to him to avoid making any contact, as Nicky’s power is touch activated, and absolutely not the kind of touch he wants to use on his cousins. There had been a whole thing before he realised what it was, involving Andrew attacking him when he accidentally touched Neil, which had turned to… 

Well. Considering Andrew’s power is also touch activated, it had not been good. Neil had been dazed when he broke free from Nicky’s power, and Kevin had been stunned by the whole turn of events. Only Aaron, overlooked and invisible in the background, the first to realise there was something up with them, had been able to use his invisibility to his benefit and break them apart before anything went further. Nicky had cried, and Andrew had disappeared for a full night and most of the following day with Neil. Nicky had tried to apologise on their return, but Andrew shut him down and refused to talk about it.

“Do not use that on anyone else,” he had seethed, teeth bared, and Nicky tried his best not to. An accidental brush of skin was usually recoverable, people would just glance his way with interest, but if Nicky got a hold of someone or vice versa on bare skin…

Kevin doesn’t really know what the official name for Nicky’s power would be, but basically whoever is in his thrall becomes very determined to fuck him. Whether Nicky wants them to or not. His power does not come with an off switch. 

After Andrew stormed off and Nicky hid himself in his room confused and upset, Aaron had reappeared with considerable frostbite on his hand. Aaron blinking into existence weirdly seemed like the least upsetting part of the evening, but it had taken too long with everything else happening, and he ended up losing two fingers to the frost damage. 

Which activated Kevin’s power. So the next time it happened - and really, Kevin could have lived with only going through that night once, thanks - he was able to draw attention to Aaron before Andrew left. This meant Andrew could drop them at Abby’s on the way to wherever he was going. He did not speak, and he did not apologise for almost freezing Aaron’s hand off, but the fact he took them when he clearly just wanted to get as far away from everyone as possible immediately said enough. 

Shouldn’t be eating those, Kevin thinks chidingly, but he keeps his mouth shut. Aaron glares at him as he bites the corner of his.

Mind your business (oh god that’s good)

Kevin is the one to flush this time. He feels his cheeks heat, though his skin tone hides any outward sign of it, at least. Nicky is saying something to Aaron but Kevin isn’t paying attention past Aaron’s fucking mental foodgasm, apparently. For someone so stoic, Kevin would not have guessed there is so much going on under the surface.

You know what they say about assume. Aaron glances sideways at Kevin as he licks cream from the centre of his apple turnover. Kevin’s gaze locks onto the flash of pink tongue as it pushes between the layers of flaky pastry. The hint of green from his tongue stud. There’s sugar crystals on Aaron’s top lip. He drags his tongue out, cream on the tip of it, and Kevin’s mind of course leaps to various other scenarios. Aaron abruptly lowers the pastry, looking at Kevin with an appalled expression.

What the fuck-

Jolt in his stomach. Feeling of falling. Still in the kitchen with Nicky and Aaron, but a handful of seconds back.

Oh god that’s good

Kevin turns away from Aaron before he starts licking cream this time, closing up his laptop and gathering his things, done for the night.

“Do you want one, Kevin?” Nicky shakes the box at him. Kevin shakes his head.

Coward

How am I a coward for not wanting to eat that sugary abomination?

You just are (worry about how bad his eating is going to get when he’s alone)

There’s nothing wrong with my eating and I’ll have a meal plan when I go pro anyway

Whatever (will anyone actually check if he follows it)

Kevin flicks Aaron in the forehead as he walks past him. Aaron ducks away, then bats at Kevin’s hand, too slow. 

You are so annoying

Kevin ignores Aaron and goes to get ready for bed. He’s already tucked in by the time Aaron and Nicky come through. Nicky collapses into his bed and crashes out fairly quickly. Kevin’s usually the same, but tonight he has to deal with Aaron’s constantly overlapping trains of thoughts.

Did I pack for the right classes tomorrow? (Will Katelyn want to go to the library between classes?) Pretty sure I checked (wait what day is tomorrow) maybe I should go for a run in the morning (calves kind of aching after practice, might help) Hope my stupid power doesn’t activate during this week's game (what am I supposed to do if it does) ugh wait tomorrow is Wednesday session day (wonder if Andrew will even look at me this week) 

Can you shut up?

Not talking

Is this why you’re always up so late? How do you ever sleep when it’s all so constant

Usually just hit the point of exhaustion and pass out

That can’t be healthy

You’re one to talk

I sleep!

So go to sleep now and leave me alone (should try and sleep eyes are burning was so tired earlier why can I never shut off when I want) 

Aaron.

It’s weird when you do that

What?

Think my name right in my head. Weird.

How is it weird?

Just feels weird. Kevin.

Yes okay I understand.

Kevin Kevin Keviiin (kind of weird that we just make noises and those are our names and we respond to our unique set of noises)(and that there are so many dialects and languages and how they developed so differently)

It’s interesting

Yes (can you imagine if everyone had telepathy)

That sounds like a nightmare

Absolutely 

This is unideal but out of everyone on the team I think having this with you is probably the best scenario. It would be helpful to have this kind of communication with Neil on the court but otherwise I would hate to know what’s going on in his head

Oh yeah god no. I do NOT need to know what that freak is thinking about 

Especially since a lot of it would probably be about Andrew-

Stop. (might be interesting to know what Andrew is thinking but if I had to hear about Josten-) Shut up. (wonder what he thinks about me) Shhh shh shh. (probably don’t want to know)

I don’t think Andrew would think anything bad about you

Go to bed (probably doesn’t think about me at all)

I’m in bed

Then go to sleep 

I would if you’d stop thinking so loud

Can’t help it

Yeah. I know.

Kevin rolls over to face the room. He can’t see Aaron in the dark, but he hears the shift of Aaron’s bed, imagines them rolling to face each other. He closes his eyes and lets the cotton warmth of sleep start to descend over him. It takes longer than usual, Aaron’s constant stream of thought an irritating background radio frequency, but Kevin tries to extend out the tired feeling in his head until eventually he drops off.

*

Weird images are flashing across Aaron’s mind. He’s somewhere dark, and there’s a glow of red lights which makes it look even darker. He doesn’t like that. He’s following long corridors, trying to find his way out, feeling like he is trapped in a labyrinth. Every time he opens a different door, he sees something he doesn’t want to. 

He opens one door. It’s a bathroom. Jean Moreau is under a flow of water. Riko is holding his hair to keep him in place. He puts a cloth over Jean’s face and Jean’s body convulses as he tries to breathe. Aaron staggers back out of the room. He races down the corridor to the next room. He can’t see in this one, but there are hands on him. He does not want them to touch him, but he has the knowledge that he has to let it happen whether he wants to or not. Aaron fights his way through to another door and stumbles into the corridor again.

Neil Josten is in the third room. That is what Aaron thinks at first glance. An older version of him. But then he realises that there is a younger version of Neil standing beside him, along with a younger version of Riko. So the man currently slicing someone up must be his father.

“Keep watching, Kevin. No looking away,” a voice says, and Aaron’s head snaps back to face what is happening. He wants to cry but he knows if he does he will be punished, so he has to fight it back until later. He can cry when he is alone. That is what he is supposed to do, but there are tears on his cheeks as he backs up towards the door. He doesn’t make it this time. His foot catches on something and he falls backwards, and then Riko is coming towards him, Riko is standing over him, Riko is slamming his foot down on Aaron’s hand and the pain explodes through him, but worse, worse is the knowledge that he is losing everything.

Aaron gasps awake trembling, sweat sticking his shirt to his back. He’s breathing hard like he really has been running. Dim morning light leaks into the room. Nicky is sleeping soundly beneath him, but across the room Kevin’s usual heavy breathing has been replaced with soft sounds of distress.

Kevin. Kevin. Kevin!

Aaron hears Kevin jolt, the start of his own gasp before he muffles it off with his hand to his mouth. Aaron’s limbs are still shaky, but he’s starting to feel steadier now in the knowledge it wasn’t his dream. He’s just getting secondhand effects. Kevin must be feeling much worse. 

Riko-

Riko’s gone. You’re safe. You’re at Palmetto. Jean is safe. He got out, he’s with the Trojans. Everything is okay now.

The blood my hand-

Your hand is better now. You’ve trained back the strength in it. You can play with it again. You won your first championship with the Foxes playing with it, remember? You scored the winning goal

Yes

Yeah (that was horrible does he still have nightmares like that often no wonder he’s so anxious)

Not that often anymore

Thank you

It’s okay (was all of that real) 

Yes

Even the bit with Josten’s dad?

Yes

That’s fucked up

Yes

Try and get more sleep

Don’t know if I can. Do you want to go for a run?

(not really) Okay

You don’t have to

Let’s go (needs the distraction want to make sure he’s okay tired but always tired anyway)

Aaron drops down out of bed. He has so much to do today. He tries to build a mental to do list as he staggers sleepily around the room, pulling on his running gear. Kevin is still shaken from his nightmare. Aaron keeps getting brief flashes of his thoughts, more images and feelings than words this morning. He bumps his arm against Kevin’s as they head out, letting Kevin set the pace and falling into place beside him.

Always starts off too hard he’ll lose his breathing

Shut up. Kevin is in fact wheezing already. One handy thing about this new connection is they can easily pass thoughts back and forth without having to slow their pace.

Why don’t you go back and stop him? You can do that now you could save your hand

I can’t choose. Can’t control it. I don’t know if I can go back that far, but I also don’t think I want to

No?

If it didn’t happen would I still be stuck there? Would Neil have died if he hadn’t joined the Foxes? Would I spend my whole life stuck in Riko’s shadow?

Seth would have lived

Kevin stumbles. Aaron catches his elbow, steadies him. Kevin jerks away.

That wasn’t targeted at you it was just an automatic thought (don’t be mad) I know Seth wasn’t your fault (don’t yell at me) if anything it was Josten who aggravated Riko but it’s all on him Kevin not you 

I know. I wonder sometimes if I could go back and stop that but then would anything play out like it did? How much more do I fuck with the further back I go?

Do you wish you had a different power?

Sometimes

Which?

Something useful like super speed could be good. Would make me better on the court

Oh my god Kevin we’re talking about superpowers and you’re thinking about exy (of course he is)

What about you?

Shapeshifting.

Why?

Taller (so I could be my own person) (and who doesn’t want to look better) (I mean the height wouldn’t hurt) (would Andrew be offended if I changed the way I look) (maybe people would like me better maybe you-)

Right. Of course.

Invisibility is okay (if I could control it) I mean it’s an A list power (people don’t really see me anyway) could be worse (at least it’s not Nicky’s)

Yes I definitely would not want Nicky’s

I think it would be the worst (do most people not want to fuck you anyway)

Not that I’m aware of

That you’re aware of. Aaron gives Kevin a wry side glance. He’s Kevin Day. Of course most people are tripping over themselves for him. Kevin just socialises within a distinct circle that keeps him separate from most of that. Free of anyone who wants him that way. (almost free)

What does that mean?

Nothing sometimes my brain just thinks random words get over it (fuckfuckfuck) I didn’t realise

What?

The extent of the Nest. I knew it was bad but I guess there is no way to describe that kind of thing in a way that catches how it actually feels

Those were only snapshots

I know

I wish you hadn’t seen that

Didn’t mean to (would I want anyone to see-) Aaron’s own memories flash across his mind without permission. His mother lashing out at him, throwing things at him, a bottle shattering against him, a knife sticking in a wall, his tiny child body being shoved so hard into a glass table it breaks beneath him, the pain of his sliced back. Swallowing pills until he felt so sick he was convinced he was going to die. Holding his own over earnest letter with FUCK OFF scrawled over it, returned from Andrew. That first meeting under the too stark fluorescent lights of the detention facility visitor room, Aaron’s fingers picked bloody, Andrew’s narrowed eyes, him reaching across to grip Aaron’s already aching wrist as he asked about the bruises Aaron had failed to cover well enough. Puking his guts up while trapped in the bathroom, sprawled on the ground trembling, curled tight into himself in the tub once again thinking it was over. Walking into that room on Thanksgiving. Alone in the back of a cop car not knowing if Andrew was alright or what was going to happen to him. On the stand, facing a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Stop stop stop stop stop.

Aaron

Don’t look! 

Aaron you’re thinking about them I can’t help it

I’m not thinking about them (not on purpose) I don’t want to think about them (stopstopstop) you don’t need to see this (he’s already been through enough with his own)

“Hey.” Kevin stops running. He catches Aaron’s arm. Aaron yanks away from him, but realises that he’s breathing harder than usual. He doesn’t know if he’s sharing Kevin’s anxiety or if his own flashbacks have caused his chest to tighten. 

What?

“It’s okay.” You don’t always have to worry about me. 

“I’m not.” Can’t help it (breathe just breathe you’re embarrassing yourself) 

“Aaron.” It’s okay

“You’re shit at the comforting thing.” So am I

I think you’re quite good at it

“You don’t have to be fake nice.” Stop thinking about it stop thinking about it stop. “Come on. We should finish this run.”

“Aaron.” Are you okay to run?

Yeah I’m fine (you can’t say “jar” I didn’t say it out loud)

Loopholes

Exactly loopholes (breathe just breathe focus on it count your steps breathe out when the left one hits the ground)

Thank you for coming running with me 

??? it’s okay (is he feeling better?)

Yes. I am. Thank you. 

Good (can I get him to eat this morning)

You concern yourself far too much with my eating habits

No I don’t (if you only knew how much I concern myself with- stop)

Aaron starts thinking about the lyrics of a song. He focuses on it as hard as he can, repeating it over and over again. Bad enough Kevin knows he worries about him not eating enough, he doesn’t need Kevin to know just how far Aaron is concerned with him. He tries not to have any other thoughts as they make their way back, but his brain has never been good at sticking to one thing. 

Still need to ask Kate about the library (if I can get five hundred words minimum done today) I need to do laundry (it would be great if I could get to one thousand but how likely is that really) awh shit session day (not likely at all then I cannot be assed with Dobson today) are we going to Columbia this weekend (god I want a hit so bad all this powers shit has me fucked up) really hope I don’t turn invisible during our game (or during class) probably the only time anyone would notice (fuck hope it doesn’t happen at Dobson’s office) my lips are dry I wonder where I put my chapstick

Is he going to relapse?

“What? Of course I’m not.”

“You were just thinking-”

“I think a lot of things. Do you control every thought you have? I don’t act on it. That’s what counts.”

“Okay.”

Should I tell Andrew-

“Do not tell Andrew. What is wrong with you?” Aaron abruptly stops running to glare at Kevin. Well that’s too long to get into, really, isn’t it, Kevin?

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you realise the fucking argument you would start over a stray thought. How about I police every stray thought you have?” Aaron steps closer and shoves Kevin hard in the chest, his whole body flush hot with rage. Kevin catches Aaron’s wrist before he can move away, holding him in place as he leans his sweaty face in close to him. 

“I wasn’t actually going to do it. That was just a stray thought on my side.” His eyes are always the nicest in the sunshine. Liquid gold.

Aaron goes slack in Kevin’s hold, blinking at him. His mouth works uselessly.

What.

Lips don’t look dry to me. They look soft and pink

Aaron automatically licks his lips.

Fuck. One more time. 

Then Kevin is kissing him, and the world feels like it has tilted sideways. 

Said I’d stop doing this.

Aaron’s free hand fists in Kevin’s shirt. His brain is still a loud neon scream of ??? and yet he’s not pushing Kevin away. 

Is he kissing back?

No. He’s definitely not doing that. Aaron finally shoves Kevin, stepping back from him. What is he doing (is this a joke) why is he doing it (I don’t understand) what does he gain from this (what the fuck) Despite the frantic, frightened tone of Aaron’s thoughts, his expression is furious

“What are you-”

*

“I think a lot of things. Do you control every thought you have? I don’t act on it. That’s what counts.”

I have to stop doing that.

“Okay.”

Doing what?

“Thinking stupid things,” Kevin says. Aaron’s mouth twitches, the knife edge of a smile that doesn’t quite make it over the precipice. Kevin focuses very hard on not thinking of anything even in the vicinity of the topic of kissing.

So, here’s the thing. It’s not that he intends to keep kissing Aaron and then reversing time so he forgets. Rather the opposite. Kevin has told himself he will absolutely not kiss Aaron ever again, as he never reacts well, and yet every time they get riled up, or in each other’s space, or Aaron looks at him all sleepy and soft, or anything that happened during any of the seven previous occurrences, Kevin finds himself leaning in. He feels like he’s going a bit insane, because sometimes he’s convinced Aaron is looking at his mouth, or he’s the one leaning in first, and on at least four of those occasions Kevin swears Aaron kissed him back, but then he always draws back with his flushed cheeks, narrowed eyes, angry eyebrows, and Kevin stumbles back in time before he even has the chance to hear what Aaron is going to say. 

He’s not running on purpose. At this point he’d kind of like to have it over with and out of the way so he stops ending up in situations where it happens again. Surely if Aaron gets really, truly angry at him once, then there will be a safe boundary between them going forward. Unless Aaron hates him for it, and stops talking to him, and this is exactly the line of thought that keeps triggering Kevin’s power. 

He’s thinking about it now that he’s alone in the dorm, everyone else out at afternoon classes. Aaron currently too far away to be prying into his thoughts. Except it’s a depressing line of thought, and his brain doesn’t want that, so it starts thinking about what would happen if Aaron did kiss him back. If Aaron kept kissing him, hands in Kevin’s hair, body pressed forward against Kevin’s hips - Kevin initially thinks of their hips pressed together but logistically this would not work with Aaron’s vertical challenges, so he shifts them to a seat where Aaron can straddle Kevin - strong thighs squeezing around Kevin’s legs, breath warm in Kevin’s mouth. 

Kevin checks the time. He should have at least a good hour before anyone gets back. He moves to the bathroom just in case, pushing his sweats down low over his hips. He leans back against the wall, thinking of Aaron again, lost in the fantasy. He’s thinking of how their telepathy would add to it. How Aaron gives so little away outwardly, but now Kevin has this secret window, he can see exactly how good he makes him feel. Because Kevin would, of course. It’s his fantasy. He can be the queen of exy AND sex if he wants to be. Then he’s thinking about Aaron’s power - anything Aaron has on disappears with him, but if he lifts something new it doesn’t - and wondering if he would be able to see himself if Aaron were blowing him. He’d be in the hot warmth of his mouth, but would it just look like bucking against air? As much as Kevin would absolutely rather see Aaron, it’s kind of a turn on to think about. He thinks about using his own power to go back and watch Aaron orgasm over and over again, luxuriating in the fact Kevin brought him that pleasure. Though Aaron wouldn’t really benefit, as he wouldn’t remember-

What the fuck are you thinking about?

Kevin freezes.

How can you hear me from class

Professor cancelled. There’s a bang as the front door slams closed. Kevin frantically pulls his trousers back on, even though it’s not like Aaron can see. 

Fuck fuck fuck 

*

Aaron feels ablaze. It had confused him why, as he got closer to the Tower, as he trudged his way up the stairs to the dorm, there was a building sense of arousal curling in his low stomach. Considering his only thoughts - beyond being fucking annoyed the professor couldn’t give them a heads up before he walked all the way across campus to his stupid class - before were that at least he’d have an extra hour to work on his assignment. He’s hoping to finish it up tonight. Except then there had been images of Kevin, and Aaron thought they were absent background thoughts at first. Irritating, but not entirely unusual. He has, unfortunately, been thinking about Kevin in that kind of way as of late.

Except it felt weirdly like he was in Kevin’s place in the thoughts. Rather than his own. Looking at a vision of himself that Aaron did not entirely recognise. His hair definitely doesn’t fall as neatly as that, or look as golden in colour, and he doesn’t have as many freckles sprinkled across his nose. His shoulders are not that broad, and there’s an awkward blockiness to his sides, not the softness of the version he was seeing in his head. Which is when it occurred to him that it was not, in fact, his own weird thoughts. 

Can’t just hide in the bathroom forever… can I? He’ll get bored eventually.

Kevin. Aaron thinks it because he does not trust himself to say it right now. His face is burning up. He presses a hand over it. This can’t be happening (oh my god) I can’t deal with this right now (and we have training in like three fucking hours) why was he (doesn’t mean anything) I don’t understand (can’t wouldn’t obviously) I just (why was it kind of) how the fuck am I supposed to (hot)

Aaron bangs his fist against the door. 

Go away

Open up

No. Go away. 

Kevin. Aaron bangs the door again, trying the handle. It opens. Kevin forgot to lock it in his… ponderings. 

“What are you-”

*

Kevin’s just sliding his sweatpants down when he jolts back in time. He pulls them firmly up again, splashes cold water on his face, and runs to be sitting in a normal position by the time Aaron reaches the dorm.

“Why are you just sitting in here in silence?” Did he have another panic attack after yesterday 

No

“Just tired. We need to do something about this.”

“About what?”

This. It’s not good.

Obviously 

We have to work out what happened and how to stop it 

“You’re very insistent all of a sudden.” There is something rotten (you want it gone too) at your very core (this is a good thing) and everyone senses it eventually (obviously why would you want to keep this) and no one wants to know you when they see the rot (think what happened before this started) and no one will ever stick around if they see the real you (we were leaving practice-)

“Aaron.” 

“What?”

That’s not true

“What’s not true?” We were leaving practice, and we were arguing. 

“You’re not- There’s not-” There’s nothing wrong with you.

How about you mind my own business and we don’t talk about things you hear in my head (and then there was the girl) WAIT !

THE GIRL !

Woah, that was weird

We haven’t thought the same thing at the same time before 

“She must have done something.” Felt like static when I touched her

Same

“How do we find her?” I don’t even remember what she looked like

Of course you don’t. I do we’ll just have to look around campus (really need to finish that assignment)

“Can you picture her in your head? As clear as you can remember.”

“Uh. Sure.” Aaron scrunches up his nose, and Kevin sees a girl take form. Her face shifts and melts and morphs as Aaron changes his mind about details. She has dark hair cut into a shag and big, dark brown eyes that are the central feature of her face. Narrow nose, thin lips, smudge of mascara under one eye. Kevin wonders if Aaron actually remembers this clearly or if he’s invented some of it. 

“Okay. You work on your assignment, I’ll go…” walk around and see if I can find her I guess

Is he the best one to handle this after being so rude to her

“Hey!”

“Well you were.” Didn’t even apologise (probably why she did this)

“That’s victim blaming, Aaron.” Maybe she shouldn’t have been right in our way. It was a big path

“Whatever. Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?” He gets so anxious

“Yes.” Maybe

Ugh I have time (a bit) I can probably leave my assignment to later (just stay up tonight) could look until practice

“No. I’ve got this.” Trust me with something 

“Okay.” Call if you need anything 

“Telephone or tele-pathy.”

“That was terrible.” At least he makes jokes now (his stupid dorky smile is so cu-) APPLE BOTTOM JEANS BOOTS WITH THE FUR (WITH THE FUR)

Ugh.

“Right. See you in a bit.” Kevin winces as Aaron continues to blast the song in his head, making his way towards the door. He jogs towards the main campus building and stalks his way through halls, glancing in the windows of classes, doing a lap of the library. He doesn’t even know what year the girl is or what she’s studying, so he has no idea of where to look for her. Over an hour later he gives up and heads dejectedly back towards the dorm.

No luck

Fuck (what if we’re stuck like this) it’s okay (I guess it won’t matter after he graduates) we’ll likely see her again at some point (but that’s a long time to have someone in my head)

Worry about it later. Get ready for practice now.

Oh fuck off

Their newfound connection, Kevin discovers, really serves them on the court. 

Behind you left shoulder

Aaron turns just in time to block Neil coming up from his blind spot. Kevin can feel the wordless burst of his delighted pride, and it makes his own chest swell, because Aaron is enjoying exy! He can’t hide. Kevin is there in his head, and he can’t lie about hating it all the time anymore. 

Yeah yeah. Quick turn quarter clockwise

Kevin turns and catches one of the freshmen trying to pass around him. He flicks his racquet against theirs with enough force to knock it unsteady in their hands. The ball falls loose and Kevin catches it in his net. He fights down a smile as his and Aaron’s thoughts overlap.

It’s like being able to see all around

It’s like having eyes in the back of your head

Think you can catch this?

No way you can send it that far

Go to your right I’m going to change angle last second

As several of the younger Foxes scramble to Kevin’s right, thinking his left hand will send the ball that way, he swaps hands last second and fires it down the court towards the corner that is left for him, but to Aaron’s right. Aaron’s moving before Kevin even passes, which gives him time to gauge the position of the ball and get himself in place. 

YES! Square your shoulders more before you pass again. Just like that. Yes

Stop mentally coaching me

But look how much better you’re doing

Kevin (why is it kind of nice when) stop it (don’t go there)

Kevin doesn’t stop, because his tips actually are improving Aaron’s game. In real time! He can deal with Aaron’s annoyed mental missiles if they are the price to pay. Aaron flips him off down the court. Kevin can’t see Andrew’s expression, but his head moves between them. 

Kevin makes sure he’s on the far side of the changing room to Aaron after practice, because if he’s too close he might steal glances, and if he starts stealing glances he is going to start having thoughts. Which Aaron can hear now. So Kevin decides the safest route is avoiding temptation. They elect to walk back after practice, ignoring the questioning way Andrew narrows his eyes, combing over the campus for the girl. 

Really need to finish that (so tired) am going to have to stay up (this has taken longer than expected) ugh morning class tomorrow should I skip that (no don’t want to lose participation mark)

Their fingers brush between them as they walk. Aaron yanks his hands back. Kevin looks down at him, Aaron looks back, his eyes shadowed underneath. He really looks exhausted. Kevin has always brushed Aaron’s bad sleep pattern off as a lack of discipline. He always thought he sacrificed rest to do his own unimportant nonsense, but he’s realising that Aaron holds himself to high standards in a different way from Kevin. That while he seems largely laid back about things on the surface, he’s a tycoon underneath, and that his brain never seems to stop.

Why is he looking at me (and what does that expression mean) what-

Kevin reaches up and touches Aaron’s cheekbone. He smooths his thumb along one of the dark marks beneath his eyes. He scrunches up his nose, trying to force his power into action, but he can never make it work when he wants to. 

He looks so exhausted if only I could give him time back

What is he doing what the fuck

Kevin slides his hand down and grips Aaron’s chin. He told himself he wasn’t going to do this again, but it is the only thing he knows activates his power everytime. This is a much more gentle kiss than the previous eight. Usually when Kevin kisses Aaron it is an impulsive, passion driven action, but this he does with purpose, slotting their lips together. It is a good kiss, even if it is much more chaste than a lot of their kisses.

Would have been a good first kiss

What the fuck (what does that mean) why is he (have you done this before) has he been turning back time

Aaron pulls back sharply from Kevin, and there is the familiar rage on his face. Kevin sighs through his nose as Aaron opens his mouth, but before he speaks, Kevin feels the familiar tug of his power. 

His lips are still tingling as he lands back at the court. Aaron is just about to turn down Andrew’s ride back to the dorms.

“Yeah, we’re coming.” Kevin speaks over him. We didn’t find her. Waste of time. You should work on your assignment.

Did you come back?

Yes

So you used your power on purpose? 

No it just happened

If she wasn’t where we checked we can look elsewhere (assignment can wait a bit I’ll just-)

No. We checked all over and you just got more stressed about your assignment, so take the time back and go work on it 

Okay

*

“Thanks.” That’s nice of him (why is he being nice what does he want) Aaron takes the steaming mug from Kevin, eying it suspiciously. It’s an old mug, chipped at the rim, the colourful print on it faded but still bearing the title of Scorpio with a scorpion and some traits listed beneath it. Nicky had gifted Aaron and Andrew them not long after he came back to the US, making a joke about how they were twins and yet he was the only Gemini. They had not laughed. Aaron doesn’t believe in starsign bullshit, but it’s one of the first things Nicky ever gave him. He hasn’t grown out of it like clothes or shoes. He always brings it when they move back to the dorms. 

“I can be nice.” Know you’re stressed just want to make it easier 

“Rarely.” I know you can.

“Almost there?” Heard you thinking about a conclusion

“Yeah.” Just need to read over it but should have it submitted tonight (hope it’s good enough)

I’m sure it is. Almost understand some of that when I hear it from your thoughts. Almost

Yeah well I’m writing with the assumption my audience already knows the basic terms so it’s not aimed at an introductory level (it’s okay if you don’t get it you don’t study this)

No, but I like hearing about what you study sometimes

I like when you talk to me about something other than exy

I like that you listen when I talk about anything other than exy

Yeah well there’s a brain in there somewhere

That gets better grades than you.

“Out.”

Kevin laughs as he leaves the room. Aaron cradles the mug to his chest, warming his hands from the heat of it. He breathes in the steam spirals, inhaling the scent of peppermint. Aaron blows on the surface, takes a sip, and then sets the cup down to type more. The warmth doesn’t leave him though, spreading out through his body, more than just his hands.

He feels less fondly for Kevin when Friday night comes. Weirdly, he also feels a bit high, a rush of adrenaline and excitement that is not his own coursing through him in the few hours before the game.

How do you still get worked up (passionate) after all this time (like that) it’s not even a big game

Every game should be treated like a big game, Aaron.

Aaron rolls his eyes, but once he’s on court, he does apply himself. Kevin has done small things to help him with assignment - giving him time back, bringing him tea - and so in return Aaron tries his best during their game. As annoying as Kevin’s barked commands in his head are, he follows them, and he acts as Kevin’s eyes on the far end of the court. Even though their positions mean they rarely interact on the court, it’s beneficial. Having someone with eyes on the action Aaron can’t always see. And when he is sitting out for a quarter, he is able to warn Kevin of movement on the court before it reaches him. There’s still an undercurrent of concern running through Aaron, a constant chant of don’t turn invisible don’t turn invisible don’t turn invisible. It’s a relief when the final buzzer blares out, the Foxes three points ahead. 

Kevin slaps Neil on the shoulder but ignores everyone else as he jogs down the length of the court. Ugh tired now (do I want to go to Eden’s tonight) wonder if we’re getting food on the way (probably feel better by the time we get there) we should I don’t want to cook (what if I think something stupid with drinking) maybe pizza (would like to blow some steam off though). Aaron assumes Kevin is running to Andrew, so it surprises him when Kevin charges into Aaron, tackling him into a hug. Aaron staggers under the force (ugh ow) before steadying himself (can’t really feel through my gear but how does he still smell so good even after-).

That was amazing! Think of all the possibilities of this, the kind of plays we could come up with-

We’re trying to get rid of it remember?

Yes but if we don’t.

Kevin, we have to. Aaron feels a wave of disappointment that baffles him. Surely he doesn’t want to be stuck with me in his thoughts forever

“Come on, we should go get cleaned up.” You’re right. 

Of course Aaron is. No one would want to be stuck with him, especially not when he can’t hide, when they can see right into his damaged centre. He tries to shrug those thoughts off as Nicky claps him on the shoulder. He’s always more affectionate with Aaron when they’re in their gear now, since it’s the only time it is safe for him to make contact. Aaron leans into him just for a second, knowing how much Nicky must miss affection. Nicky beams through his helmet grate.

They do get pizza in Columbia. Kevin’s in too good of a mood to argue. Aaron gets a vegetarian pizza so they can share it, and a warm glow of happiness radiates from Kevin through to him. It’s funny, because Kevin’s scowling face would suggest anything but. Aaron supposes they both are often hiding their true feelings from the world, intentional or not. 

Despite his concerns, when Nicky pours pre-drinks, Aaron joins in. He’s buzzed by the time they hit Eden’s, and has another couple of drinks before disappearing onto the floor. Nicky goes off somewhere by himself, dressed in far too many layers to be clubbing in, probably, keeping his skin covered so he doesn’t touch anyone. Lost in the press of bodies and loud roar of the music and flashing lights, Aaron’s brain actually stops whirring as much for once. He closes his eyes, tips his head back, and bounces along to the beat. He catches snippets of Kevin’s thoughts, but it’s hard to fully focus on them with the volume of the music.

So good… the way the lights… bicep muscles… peek of his stomach… hair sticking to his forehead with sweat… wish I could go dance with him… hands on his hips… mouth to his throat… pull him back against… 

Aaron shakes his head and tries to focus on something else, an aching twinge in his chest. Stupid. He shouldn’t care about whoever Kevin is thinking about.

I can’t… know exactly how it’ll end… said I wouldn’t… can’t do it a tenth time.

Aaron’s ears are ringing. His limbs are pleasantly achy and his skin is slick with sweat by the time they pile into the Mas. He’s in the back, Kevin relegated to the middle despite his long legs to act as a dividing wall between Aaron and Josten. Nicky gets front seat privileges due to his power now. A precaution.

Who caught your eye tonight?

What?

Heard you thinking about someone

Doesn’t matter. Why do you care?

I don’t. Just curious (curious curious curious sure)

Nothing is going to come of it.

Something could (who wouldn’t want you)

Just drop it, Aaron.

Aaron arches a brow, not appreciating that tone at all, especially inside his head. He’s too tired to poke at Kevin further though, shifting in his seat to try and get comfortable until Kevin thinks just lie against me and stop moving. Aaron rests his head back against Kevin’s shoulder, eyelids heavy, lulled by the gentle movement of the car. Still smells good.

*

THE GIRL I SEE HER (he can’t even hear you) SHE’S IN MY SIGHTS

I JUST GOT OUT OF CLASS WHERE ARE YOU?

COMING FROM THE SCIENCE BUILDING TOWARDS THE QUAD

I WILL MEET YOU THERE FOLLOW HER

Kevin picks up his pace, putting his long legs to good use as he starts a swift stride, weaving his way through other students.

SHE’S SEEN ME SHE IS WALKING QUICKER

DON’T LET HER GET AWAY!

CALLING OUT BUT SHE IS IGNORING ME

ALMOST THERE

As Kevin finally makes it to the quad he whips his head around, eyes narrowed. He spots Aaron first - he feels like he will always spot Aaron first in a crowd - and follows his gaze. The girl is striding swiftly towards Kevin, but she hasn’t seen him. She’s looking over her shoulder at Aaron, who has broken into a jog. She turns forward, her expression panicked, and almost walks right into Kevin.

“You really have to start watching where you’re going,” he says. The girl shrinks back, clutching her bag. Aaron arrives a second later, breathing heavy. 

“We need to talk to you.”

Her name is Kiera. Aaron asks. Kevin would not even have thought that important enough information to ask.

“What did you do to us?” He folds his arms, towering over her. Aaron glares at him. If we want her to help we should probably not snap at her.

I don’t have to play nice. She used her power on me!

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You bumped into us, and now we can hear each other’s thoughts. So you must have used your power on us,” Aaron says. Kiera’s gaze brightens.

“You know about powers? Do you have them?”

Don’t give her information.

Shut up

“You’re changing the subject. Can you undo your power?”

“No.”

“So you’re saying we’re stuck like this.” Kevin’s voice has a sharp edge to it. Kiera flinches back from him. Aaron doesn’t scold Kevin this time, evidently also annoyed by this information.

“It’s not forever! It goes away after… after…”

“After what?” 

“Okay, it makes more sense if I explain my power. So, I’ve always been good at spotting which characters have good chemistry in stories. I always know who should get together. Then after the storm, I started seeing people who would be good together, and when I touch them, something happens that helps with whatever is stopping them from being together.”

“Telepathy,” Aaron says. What does she mean (she’s wrong) who would be good together (Kevin would never)

“Not necessarily. Like once it  was that someone was too immature, and my power made him a lot older, which changed his perspective. Then when they got together he changed back. Or I had someone who was too scared, and my power made them really brave. It’s just whatever is blocking it from happening.”

“How does us being in each other’s heads help? Not that we’re-” Aaron isn’t, anyway. 

What do you mean? I’m not what?

“Maybe you just need to understand each other’s perspectives. I don’t know.”

“You can’t just go around trying to manipulate people into relationships, it’s not your place to interfere just because you think something is going on.” This is so awkward (he would never) how the fuck are we supposed to navigate this (not Kevin Day) we’re going to be stuck with it (not with me)

I mean, if she’s wrong about anyone here it’s you

“I don’t just think! I can see. I told you. I literally see chemistry, it’s part of my power, and it is pouring off of you two. So when you were fighting I knew I had to-” Kiera cuts off, but it is too late. Kevin and Aaron’s attention focuses in on her, both of their faces tight with anger.

“You did this on purpose,” Kevin says.

“I just wanted to help!”

“Well, you didn’t,” Aaron says. 

“You’ll be happy in the long run.” Keira’s back is to the wall, but she sidesteps, starting to slide away from them. “You’ll see.”

She takes off. Kevin starts to step after her, but Aaron puts a hand on his arm to stop him. Let her go. We got the information. She can’t help anymore.

She might be lying.

I don’t think she is. Let’s go back to the dorms (we probably need to talk about this) (fuck)

Aaron-

No. Dorms first (what did he mean I’m the one she’s wrong about)

Obviously we’re both going to be thinking about this on the way back

Well she got it wrong, right? (Did she though Aaron) so there has to be some other way to undo this (she got it half right didn’t she)

That’s what I mean. She got it half right. 

Did you (does he know) ?

There’s a hopeful flutter in Kevin’s chest, followed by an aching pining sensation. He looks at Aaron. Aaron looks back, then blushes and looks away. 

Don’t be stupid (he would never) don’t even think (he can hear you) how embarrassing (to think he would ever) shut up 

“Aaron.” Could he…

“What?” Stop thinking 

Can’t do this again if you’re not sure. You said you wouldn’t. Nine times is enough.

What did you do nine times?

Kevin thinks of every time he’s ever kissed Aaron. Aaron goes still. Kevin is so lost in his memories that it takes him a few steps to realise. He pauses and looks back at Aaron. Aaron’s expression gives little away, but Kevin can feel the resounding echo of his utter shock. The slight twinge of betrayal. The heat of underlying anger. 

“You’ve kissed me and rewound time so I wouldn’t remember?”

“Not on purpose!” I can’t control it. I never mean to go back. 

Nine times?! How can you make the same mistake nine times?

You know the powers are unpredictable.

I wasn’t talking about your power (I meant me in the mistake obviously)

Kissing you was never a mistake.

But you-

You always got angry at me. I panicked and accidentally went back. I don’t want you to hate me. 

Kevin (I don’t understand) I don’t (why would I be angry) why would you (probably didn’t believe it) 

What are you not understanding?

Why would you kiss me?

Why does anyone kiss anyone?

Kevin (why me what am I compared to Kevin Day I’m just-)

“Stop.” Kevin closes the space back to Aaron, taking his face in his hands. Aaron’s cheeks are warm beneath his palms. He gazes up at Kevin, his eyes wide. Stop thinking like that. “I’m not Kevin Day. Not with you.” I can just be Kevin with you. I like being Kevin with you. I like you. 

He doesn’t mean that-

“Meant it enough to have nine first kisses with you.”

That’s so annoying I don’t remember any of our first kisses

Well it’s not you it’s the variants of you in different timelines

Still me!

There’s a timeline where you have two fingers frozen off, but here you are, all digits accounted for. It’s not you. It’s a different timeline version of you. I haven’t kissed this you.

Kevin starts to lean down. Aaron puts a hand to his chest.

“This is your tenth kiss with me, but it’s my first kiss with you. So I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to let me do it my way. But we are going back to the dorms first.” 

“Okay.”

The whole way back Kevin’s mind is flicking through memories of his kisses with Aaron at other points in time, wondering if this one is going to be similar to any of them. Aaron is also imagining their kiss, though he keeps trying to shut that thought down, not wanting Kevin to know how it’s going to happen before he decides. He’s also wondering if this will actually work.

Once they’re back in the dorm and the door shuts behind them, a silence lingers heavy in the air. Not just their words, but even their thoughts still in anticipation.

Here goes nothing (make this good)

Aaron steps closer. He reaches up and cups Kevin’s cheek with surprising confidence. Kevin leans down so it is easier for Aaron to reach. His other hand slides to the back of Kevin’s neck, encouraging him closer. Their noses brush together, breath mingling between them.

Tenth time is the charm.

Aaron presses up towards Kevin and firmly slots their lips together. It is nothing like any of their previous kisses. There is so much more purpose and intent behind this kiss, Aaron slotting his lips against Kevin’s, pressing firm but gentle. Even though it’s a chaste kiss, liquid heat cascades through Kevin. He feels like there is an electric current running beneath his skin.

Can I touch him?

Yes (please do)

Kevin wraps his arms around Aaron and pulls him close. Aaron exhales heavily through his nose. He slides his tongue along Kevin’s lower lip and Kevin opens to him immediately. Aaron’s hand moves up to his hair, gripping, using his hold to angle Kevin’s head to his liking as he brushes their tongues together.

He’s so good at this. Kevin grips Aaron’s hips, grounding himself as much as he’s holding Aaron. This is the best kiss we’ve had.

Fuck. Can’t believe-

Aaron. Wanted for so long-

“What?” Aaron draws back just enough to speak. His nose is still against Kevin’s, lips brushing Kevin’s mouth with his words.

“Hm?” Kevin tilts his head, catching Aaron’s mouth in their first second kiss. Aaron huffs, then turns his head away. 

“What have you wanted?”

To kiss you.

Kevin moves forward again, but Aaron leans back.

“Kevin.”

“I told you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I- Oh. Has it worked? Can you not hear my thoughts anymore?” 

“No. Can you hear mine?” 

Kevin shakes his head. Aaron trails his fingertips over Kevin’s lips, causing tingles to burst through him. He’s slightly disappointed. He’d have liked to explore their telepathy in the bedroom, but on the flip side, if Aaron had thought something even slightly less than positive about Kevin, it probably would have sent him spiralling. 

“Wanted to do this,” Kevin murmurs, taking hold of Aaron’s jaw. He presses their third kiss to Aaron’s mouth, and thinks I hope that number just keeps going up.

[merakiui]

YOUR IDIA THOUGHTS HERE ARE IMMACULATE OMG I AM CONSIDERING SO HARD 😭💗

Aaaa I'm so glad you like it!! Allow me to expand on it a little more.

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, kidnapping/captivity, obsession, medical operation, drugging/aphrodisiac use, dub-con/non-con, omegaverse/abo, conditioning, forced stockholm syndrome, reader is an alpha & no pronouns are written, mention of breeding, implied pregnancy)

The steady beep-beeping of a heart monitor rouses you from what feels like an endless slumber. Crusted eyelids peel open to view the many machines that tower over you, all whirring wires and shifting screens. You watch your heart rate spike and drop in even succession, a neon green line rising and falling to mimic the way your chest heaves when you attempt to sit up and realize, with a terrible, icy dread, that you've been strapped to an examination table. Your arms are bound at your sides, cuffed like a prisoner in a hospital room, and your legs are held apart by a metal spreader bar, the cuffs nearly chewing through your skin with how tightly they're fastened around your ankles. You can hardly move your head, so your eyes flick about like frantic fruit flies, landing on the IV pole at your left, a colorless liquid weighing heavy in the bag, and the accompanying needle taped into your thigh.

A sudden coldness washes over you. Though you're clad in a thin hospital gown and the room you're confined in is filled with unfamiliar sights and smells, there is one thing that manages to soothe the alarms in your brain, if only for a moment.

Idia appears above you, his yellow eyes flashing under the intensity of the lights, and you're beyond relieved to see him. With unfocused eyes and a still-numb tongue, you swallow a mouthful of saliva and force his name out from your tightened throat. It comes out pitiful, a low groan rather than a coherent name, but it pleases him all the same. He smiles down at you, his pearly whites looking a little too sharp for your liking, and his gaze crawls down the length of your shivering body.

There's something off in the way he's dressed, the way he stands primly like the Grim Reaper overlooking death as it’s administered, and the warning signals flash again, brighter than ever. You try to jerk away from him when he reaches out to run his hand over your head, like an owner petting a cat, and he exhales softly.

“You're okay.” It's mumbled, but with your heightened senses, each one sparking to life in a panic, you can hear it perfectly. “The first step is never the easiest.”

The first step? The first step of what?

You must be looking at him with pleading eyes, for he smiles again and a finger trails along your cheek, frigidly skeletal, and you bite back a terrified whimper.

“I'll be honest, (Name). I really don't like hurting you... Even seeing you in this state is...weird. I guess it's because fear doesn't look right on alphas.”

There's that creepy, toothy grin again, stretching ominously across his face, and you can't contain the disgust that darkens your gaze. This isn't Idia. The Idia you know is endearingly awkward, too shy to harm a soul, and a fanatic of the pixelated worlds in video games and manga. The Idia who looms over you now, who is strangely restless with poorly concealed excitement, is not the sweet, soft-spoken boy you befriended all that time ago. In his well-tailored uniform, he looks every bit the detached scientist of anyone's worst nightmares. You think this is the most put-together he’s ever appeared. 

A million questions fester in your brain. What's going on? Why are you here? What's he going to do? How did you end up in this situation? He took you, didn't he? You were dragged out of the comfort of your room by STYX robots and something had been injected to still your thrashing body, and then all was gloomy and silent.

“But you won't have to be scared for much longer. I'm going to fix everything.”

Fix everything? A bewildered whine slips out instead of the query.

“I have a responsibility to uphold to my family, you see. They're expecting me to give them an heir in the future, but in order to do that I'll need an omega.”

Then find an omega! you try to say, but the words just won't come. I'm an alpha! You know this!

“There's just one problem.” His fingers drum along your neck, right at the junction between neck and shoulder, where your scent glands are, and his eyes narrow in scrutiny. And then that cold, bloodless hand is traveling down your stomach, inching closer to your most private area, and you flinch in an effort to get away, but the straps hold you down, hardly allowing you to rise a centimeter from the table. A hysterical cry forces its way through trembling lips. “You're not built like an omega.”

Built. Built. As if you're one of his robots. You glare at him, baring your teeth like a cornered animal, and he sighs.

“I've looked at it from all angles, (Name). Really, I have! This was my last resort.” His hand returns to its rightful place at his side and he straightens, his head no longer angled to peer at you. Instead he glances at something else in the room. You try to locate it, but it's out of your range. “It would only hurt you more if I forced you to pretend, which is why I'm going to make everything right.”

Something's passed into his hand and you catch sight of a stone-faced nurse. You beg with teary eyes, but the helpless countenance doesn't sway her or Idia. The oxygen mask is fitted over your face and you thrash under the straps, crying out garbled strings of words and sounds. Idia tells the nurse to sedate you.

“This'll be over before you know it. You won’t feel a thing,” he's saying, twisting a valve so that something's forced into your flaring nostrils. Not crisp oxygen, you realize, but alpha pheromones. It doesn't affect you like it would an omega, but it does provide an intense level of discomfort. A needle pricks your skin, but you don’t register it as you focus on Idia. He brushes his fingers over your forehead, a fleeting gesture, and adds, “Just relax. That's better, isn't it? You'll be okay.”

And you know you'll be safe in your dreams, for that's the only place you can withdraw into to escape this dismal operating room.

- - -

There’s a pressure deep in your stomach when you wake next, hours later perhaps, and the machines around you continue to thrum, alive with energy. You swallow thickly and force your eyes open, groggy with exhaustion and still slow from the sedatives. The oxygen mask continues to funnel pheromones into your nose and your face scrunches. Not in displeasure, for it isn’t a horrible scent. It’s comfortingly robust and it keeps your heart rate level. A layer of perspiration encases you. You can feel the way it slips down your back, between your shoulder blades, and a shudder racks through you. You’re certain it’s the excessive pheromones contributing to your daze, but those thoughts slip away into oblivion when you lift your head from the table to determine what’s been digging its way through your insides. 

No, not quite digging. Penetrating. With wide, horrified eyes, you spy the silicone dildo pumping into you in a quick rhythm, the piston never faltering or slowing, and when you notice the artificial knot that just can’t quite make its way into your tight hole you scream a shrill, ear-splitting scream that rattles your very bones. Idia’s at your side almost immediately, soothing you with shushes and whispers. You struggle in vain, sobbing and shrieking, and he frowns down at you. The nurse administers another sedative and, from what you’ve just heard, an aphrodisiac. Your breath comes in panicked huffs, fogging the oxygen mask and taking in great gulps of unwanted pheromones. 

“You’re doing well,” he praises, and your stomach twists in terror. “You’re tighter than I thought you’d be, but I guess that’s because you’re not accustomed to this. I even picked one that’s smaller than average.” He nods towards the faux cock and you swallow another rising sob. Your gaze is torn from the explicit display to the bottle he holds up for your viewing pleasure. Lube, you realize. “We’ll increase the size once you start producing your own lubricant. For now, just relax.”

He rubs soothing circles into your thigh and a new wave of heat washes over you. The aphrodisiac’s begun to muddle your brain, turning your senses and making the alpha pheromones smell far more delightful than they actually are. Even Idia’s touch, as unnerving as it is, has you arching your back. 

“Good. Very good. This is for your sake, (Name). I don’t want you to be in pain when we...” He smiles shyly and for a split second he looks normal. Though what normal truly is anymore is beyond you. “Well, that’s an ending we haven’t unlocked just yet.” 

This continues for a while. You’re kept under the soothing thumb of a cocktail of medicines, and when one wears off another is distributed. Idia’s been watching you all this time, controlling the speed at which the cock pistons into you, and just when you feel the coils within yourself unraveling the machine stops abruptly and you’re left to wallow in displeasure. This torturous edging repeats for a few more rotations. 

Eventually you’re pulled back under into unconsciousness, and the next time you wake your thighs are slick and there’s liquid pooling on the table under your rear. You blink through sleep, drunkenly glancing about. Your situation hasn’t changed, but you have. You’re hotter than usual, skin warming with each passing second, and you’re certain your pupils are blown wide with desire. When you inhale a shuddering breath of pheromones, your body trembles, hungering for more than just the smell of an alpha. 

Your eyes rove your surroundings, desperately searching for one. You’re gasping tiny, breathless whimpers when you turn up empty and for a moment you assume you’re alone, doomed to be fucked by a thick, rubber cock while pheromones continue to feed into every omega instinct—instincts that come as naturally as the slick that spills from your hole and coats the dildo in a translucent sheen—for the rest of your days. And just before you can lose yourself in a panicked, downward spiral, a familiar face appears above you. His hand casts a large shadow over you, and you don’t flinch away when he pulls the mask off of you. You’re about to protest, but then a new scent hits you head-on and you squirm on the table.

“I’m here.” His fingers curl around yours and you realize one of your wrists has been freed from its cuff. You squeeze his hand tightly, tugging him closer to you. A wide smile splits his cheeks. “I’m not going anywhere, lovebug.”

Lovebug! Oh, that’s a name you’ve never been called before. It brands itself into your skin, warm and sweet, and you choke on a delighted wail when the thick knot at the base of the dildo finally, finally, slips inside what was once tight, gummy walls. Tears gather in your eyes, running in endless streams as you finally, finally, climax. And Idia holds your hand through the entirety of it all, his thumb tracing patterns into your knuckles. His scent surrounds you, clinging to you like a second skin, and you wrap yourself in the comforts of it. 

“We’re almost done,” he mumbles, pulling away from you, and your hand pursues him.

You whine at his departure and then whine again when the machine halts and the knot deflates enough to allow the length of the cock to ease out from your drenched hole. It feels so empty and cold without anything to fill the space, and you think you’re mumbling to him. It’s hard to tell with your mind so fixated on Idia’s deliciously tempting pheromones, the urge to be filled to the brim and properly bred a matter more pressing than breathing.

“I’m still here.” His voice sounds so faraway. You reach for it with your free arm, but it falls limp when the nurse from before injects yet another needle into you. You follow her arm with sluggish movements. “That part’s out of the way. Now I just need you to get used to what’s next.”

You fall into a dark abyss with no clue of the meaning in his words. If it weren’t for the sedative, you’d surely be unable to sleep. The heat that currently seizes you is so strong it grips your very soul, pinning you to the table in an ocean of sweat and slick, where every inhalation brings you closer to Idia and has the omega in you yearning for an alpha.

- - -

You’re not sure how much time has passed—whether it’s been hours or days—and if you’ve even been alive for most of it, but you wake on a plush, king-sized bed, wrapped up in the duvet and in someone’s lanky arms. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, right where your scent glands are, and according to him your scent is the prettiest, most enticing thing he’s ever smelled. Of course he’d know. He chose that scent himself and now it’s yours. Your new scent alongside new and improved glands. You’re not sure how such alterations were possible; perhaps it’s magic or science or something far darker. In the time you spent strapped to an operating table, enduring various-sized dildos and knots, electric shocks from a collar that would tighten when you moved incorrectly or failed to clench and cum at the right moment, and an overwhelming amount of pheromones—enough to reduce you to a needy mess with a never-ending heat—you finally come out of the haze with a clear, content head and heart. 

You’re an omega now. Although with how readily you respond to your alpha’s touch and scent, growing impatiently wet, perhaps you’ve always been an omega. Perhaps it’s something that’s laid dormant within you and Idia’s only just awakened it. 

Your first heat was long and messy; it overtook you with its sheer ferocity, leaving you unable to be truly pleased by the fake cocks stuffing your hole or the fingers that curled experimentally inside to gauge just how much slick you could produce. It feels like a distant memory or a particularly bad fever dream, and now your heats are far more enjoyable because they’re spent with your alpha. 

You wake Idia with smothering kisses, all peppered along his cheek and eyelids, until his mouth twitches and he opens two brilliant eyes to meet your desperate stare. It’s not uncommon for you to wake in this state. He’s trained you well, so much so that you’ll throw yourself into pseudo-heats just to fill a void that can only be filled by him. Perhaps it’s an addiction or a clinical error—though that second one seems improbable; Idia’s meticulous when it comes to pet projects. 

His morning voice is always the best lullaby. You tug him against you, nails tracing along his back as if you intend to till it into bloody ribbons. There’s no need for foreplay; you’ve been trained to accept him without any preparations, but those are still nice on occasion. Not right now, though. Not when your every instinct craves him, his dick, his cum. His everything. And, without fail, he gives it to you.

Idia always slips in so easily, and each time you always throw your head back and cry out so sweetly for him. He’s trained your body and your vocabulary, for when he speaks to you you know what you’re meant to say. And you know exactly when to tighten around him, when to cum, when to cry. You are his ideal omega, sculpted by his own hands.

“I love you,” you chant it like a prayer while he mutters sin. “Alpha.”

And your full belly is a testament to that sugared confession.

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Three - Careful What You Wish For

Pairing: Bully!Dabi x Fem!Reader, (3rd Person)

Summary: If a boy is picking on you, it means he likes you. She could almost laugh. By that logic, Dabi must’ve been fucking in love with her. That thought was what finally made the tears start to spill. Not because of how ridiculous it was or how isolating it felt.

But because it was exactly what she wanted.

CW: Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Dubious Consent, Unhealthy Relationships, Bullying, Manipulation, Humiliation, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Power Play, Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Drugs, Alcohol, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Attempted Sexual Assault, Rough Sex, Hate Sex, Smut, Porn With Plot, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst and Porn, Sadism, Loss of Virginity, Unreliable Narrator, Suicidal Thoughts, Dirty Talk, Name-Calling, Depression

A/N: An extra little content warning, there are instances of displaced anger and resentment, as well as suicidal ideation in this chapter. I feel this is a good time to remind readers that both Dabi and the MC in this story are unreliable narrators - they think things that are objectively untrue due to their traumas.

Remember, it is never a child's responsibility to save another child from abuse. And living a purposefully destructive life is a form of suicide.

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

When she was eight years old, she fell out of a tree in front of Touya’s house and hit her head on the concrete. 

Despite the many warnings from her parents, she and Touya played in that tree all the time. What was she supposed to do? It was way too big and twisty to pass up, a tree almost custom-built for climbing. She hadn’t even gotten the highest that she’d ever climbed that day, and Touya was several branches up ahead of her, teasing and goading her to follow him, catch him— faster, faster!

One moment she was climbing — her foot catching on a strangely pliable-feeling branch — the next, Touya was holding her in his arms, sprinting to her house as he cried for her mother. She didn’t even remember the fall really, she was pretty sure she had blacked out. But she remembered the pain and fear after, the tears already gushing down her cheeks when she came to, not to mention Touya’s own as he held his hand tight to her gushing forehead.

She’d made it out of the ordeal with a skull fracture and some stitches, not to mention a good old-fashioned concussion, but overall okay. When she returned home from the hospital, however, she was distressed to see that the tree was gone and that Touya had a black eye. He’d told her that it was because he fell too. And she believed him.

At the very least, she could honestly say that her head right now didn’t hurt as bad as it did that day.

But it was pretty damn close.

She lifted to her elbows with a groan, trying to rub some of the blur from her eyes. Things did get clearer as she blinked away the last of her sleep, but it wasn’t quite right yet. Blue. Everything was blue. And unfamiliar.

It looked like she was in a hotel room, a small one. It was more like a ship cabin, just large enough to fit a narrow walkway around the king-sized bed to one of two doors, and to open the drawers of the dresser doubling as an entertainment center with its surprisingly large flat-screen. The one currently turned on to some late-night variety show.

“Look who decided to wake up.”

She snapped towards the voice, where Dabi sat up against the pillows next to her in just his white undershirt and boxers. He didn’t even look at her, seemingly more interested in whether or not the idol on screen could guess what was in the box she was currently sticking her hand into, than anything to do with her .  

“Where—?” she started to sit up, glancing down as she felt the bed sheet fall down into her lap, then froze.

She was wearing nothing but her thin little white bra and (luckily, upon quick further inspection) panties.

“Oh my God!” she yelped as soon as she realized, yanking the covers up to her nose, “D-D-D-Did we…?” She couldn’t even finish the thought.

Dabi scoffed, “Hell no.”

“But… W-We’re not wearing any clothes.”

“That’s because you threw up all over them.”

And here she’d thought it was impossible for her to get any more embarrassed.

“I-I did…?”

“You’re lucky this place has laundry services.”

“Oh God,” she groaned.

A rush of nausea ripped up her throat before she could get any other question or apology out, brought on seemingly by the bloodrush of sitting up fully, and made even worse by the dry, rancid taste she was suddenly feeling on her tongue.

Dabi sighed, grabbing one of three water bottles off of the shelf behind him and tossing it into her lap.

“Drink.”

“I—” she gagged again at the thought, “I don’t think I can.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

He didn’t need to tell her twice with that tone. She quickly tore off the cap and started to down the water like no tomorrow. Dabi watched the frantic bobbing of her throat, sighing as a not small amount of water spilled down her chin and chest in a frustratingly not unattractive way. 

“Yeah alright, enough. You drink the whole thing that fast and you really will be sick,” he tapped her arm with the back of his hand before pulling a little Altoid tin from the shelf behind him and popping it open, “Take three of these.”

She eyed the tin of pills nervously then looked back up to Dabi.

“W-What are they?”

“Vicodin,” he said, completely stone-faced, “That’ll knock that hangover right out of your system.”

Her eyes widened commedically, “N-No, I don’t think I—!”

“It’s Tylenol you dipshit.”

She was relieved, of course. Although, not completely.

“...I read that you’re not supposed to mix Tylenol and alcohol.”

He groaned, loud and obviously annoyed. What the hell was he even doing here at this point? He’d met the requirements to not be a shitty person when he’d brought her to the hotel in the first place, he should’ve just fucking turned around as soon as she’d dropped onto the bed. She had a roof over her head and a door with an automatic lock, his duty was done. So why the fuck was she actively trying to make him regret sticking around even more than he already did?

“Do what you want, girl scout. I literally couldn’t care less,” he barked, snapping the tin closed and moving to climb off the bed.

“W-Wait,” she breathed, after a particularly rough throbbing knocked her brain, “I’m sorry, can I… Please?”

Luckily, he didn’t give her any extra flack for her indecision, just tipping a few pills into her hand.

“Small sip, alright? I mean it,” he said, “I’m not gonna clean up your puke twice tonight.”

She nodded sheepishly, popping the Tylenol into her mouth — all three at once.

“What time is it?” she exhaled after her last sip, not really worrying too much about the answer yet.

But that’d change on a dime.

“Three A.M.”

“W-What?!” she shrieked, throwing the covers off her, “Oh my god, oh my god, I gotta get home!”

As soon as her feet touched the carpet, a giant wave of dizziness crashed over her, causing her to lose her balance and fall back onto the bed.

Dabi just rolled his eyes at the sight. 

“Fucking relax,” he spat, “You’re in deep shit anyway, right? What’s an hour later? Might as well wait until the trains are running again at least.”

She couldn’t exactly argue with that logic, although it did very little to ease her anxiety. That seemed to matter even less to Dabi, she noticed, as she hazarded a look back at him. He just returned to flipping through channels, tired of this particular game show and fruitlessly searching to find something at least slightly more engaging.

He was being just as aloof and uncaring as usual, not giving her even the slightest time of day outside of taunting and demeaning her. 

But still, the fact of the matter remained…

“...you stayed with me.”

Continue on AO3

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[the-illithid-archivist]

Everyone stay quiet for a moment and take a seat! @sumi-sprite, @unaarista and me have been cooking and came up with an adorably cute and wholesome (and only slightly angsty AU) for all our beloved squid OC's!

Full explanation under the cut for ease of scrolling.

This AU is about the idea that illithids can have actual offspring in the form of small, baby sized illithids, so if you're not into that I would suggest you leave now or get scared. If not, happy reading!

This AU is (who would've guessed it) Vlassk-centric but also includes Omeluum, Blurg, Dror Ragzlin as well as other squid OC's of us.

A little CW: abuse and rape will be mentioned and implied but not graphically explained.

Now, a quick summary: Vlassk is still kept as a pet by Qirilissk, but after many failed attempts (often under the use of drugs and sedatives to keep his toy still and compliant) of producing offspring with him gets sold to one of their surface trading partners which happens to be Dror Ragzlin (do I hear another who would've guessed? no?) because Qirilissk finally gave up on him. Vlassk is heart-broken and shattered but shortly afterwards finds out that ... oops. He's pregnant.

The colony hears of this (thanks Ragzlin for not being able to keep your mouth shut, my dude) and now desperately wants Vlassk (and in addition the babies) back, but Ragzlin is still a little shit who won't give up on his newest toy. He also get's a good idea that Vlassk and his kids seem pretty valuable and will keep this in mind, should he ever need some leverage on his illithid allies in the future.

And Vlassk is in literal hell. He's so very scared and alone and helpless and pregnant with the offspring of his abuser. Some nights, he isn't quite sure if he wants to keep them, but in the end remembers that those kids are innocent and not the cause of his pain nor an extension of Qirilissk and his ownership of him.

He eventually ends up delivering and ... oh. It's twins. Something unheard of and nothing short of a miracle among illithids.

Qirilissk meanwhile is fuming and seething that he lost not only his precious toy but also his kid. KIDS.

The colony and Ragzlin come up with a small agreement considering Vlassk and his kids, however. Where another illithid is sent to aid and help Vlassk raise and take care of the kids so they may become proper illithids themselves.

Said illithid is Mar'reen (OC belonging to sumi and later on will carry one of their own kid, the sweet Xo'to) and is secretly tasked with persuading Vlassk to surrendering his kids to the colony and into Qirilissk's care. Mar'reen however doesn't like that idea one bit and instead sides with Vlassk and stays and becomes his first real friend.

Vlassk's twins are the shy Omeluum and Koluum aka Coal (Una's lovely squid OC). Both are outliers of their species: Omeluum due to its arcana talents and Coal because he his non-verbal (communicating via mental images and feelings instead of words) and prefers to pursue physical arts rather than psionics.

And that's the core of the AU.

Lot's of single parent panic attacks and baby illithid shenanigans will happen in this one and I can't wait to see them all!

Huge thanks to sumi and una for developing this wonderful AU with me! 🩵💜❤️

Also, a little treat to everyone having difficulties picturing illithid babies:

Art credit to Una! 🩵

[montammil]

Hi there! 🌠

"If anyone wants me to make a side story of drabble..." I mean if you're offering-

Could we get a drabble of romantic yandere Lawrence? I'm interested!

(Also I know it's been a while but please don't apologize for taking a while to post! I love reading whatever you write, regardless of the time it takes! Also I've been totally busy too so I get it-)

Here it is, and thank you for being so understanding!! I'll make this a series if anyone continues to be interested!

CW: Obsessive behavior (romantic and implied platonic for the "kids"), mentioned stalking, mentioned death, kidnapping, violence, broken bones, intimate/creepy whumper, drugging, mentioned alcohol

...

Harper lets out a heavy sigh as they finish off wiping down the bar, glancing at their watch every other minute. With all the disturbing love letters from their "secret admirer" they've been getting, they're starting to feel scared to leave the bar and go home. They spent countless nights awake out of fear.

Some of them could be mistaken for romantic and sweet, but when they got graphic, they got graphic. Harper now feels their heart drop every time they see that familiar red envelope.

They went to the police about it, but they said there was nothing they could do. The letters had no threats, not directly, anyway. It baffled them, considering this was clear evidence they were being stalked, and yet they weren't doing anything about it. Not until they had further evidence.

"You look tired."

Harper gasps and flinches at the sudden silvery voice, only to see Lawrence. They clutch their heart. "Oh my god... hi, Lawrence."

The blond frowns, leaning against the bar. "I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Harper nods, exhaling shakily. "Yeah, yeah I am. I just... uh, I can't seem to sleep lately. Anyway, do you want the usual, or...?"

Lawrence shakes his head. "I'm not getting anything tonight, I actually came over to check on you. You've been acting stressed all week and I just wanted to make sure you're doing okay."

A small smile rises to Harper's lips. "I'm fine, really, I'm just tired."

"I can tell when you're lying, you aren't the most skilled at it," Lawrence laughs softly. He sits on the stool right across from Harper and stares into their eyes. "If there's something going on, you know you can talk to me. I'm not just a customer, you know."

That's a slight surprise to Harper, considering to them, that really is all Lawrence is. A regular who frequents the bar.

"You don't have to worry about me." Harper shrugs. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Lawrence gives a soft chuckle. "If you really don't want to talk about it, I won't force you, but I'm a little worried about my friend."

Harper looks around the bar to see only a young group of friends in the back, seeming about ready to leave. They decide it wouldn't hurt to open up a bit. "I keep getting these... secret admirer letters."

Interest seeming to pique, Lawrence tilts his head. "Really? What did they say? It can't be something so bad to make you this stressed."

Harper blinks, feeling a little embarrassed. "That's what you think. Some of them are kind of sweet, they actually started off pretty romantic, I was almost wanting to meet this secret admirer. Then after about five letters in it started getting... graphic."

"Graphic?" Lawrence raises an eyebrow. "Like... sexual things?"

"Well, yes..." Harper mumbles. "But they weren't all like that. Some of them were just vaguely threatening and creepy. The police said there was nothing they can do so I guess I just have to deal with them and hope they go away, but..."

Lawrence sighs sympathetically. "But you're worried they'll come find you."

"Yeah." Harper rubs their temples tiredly. "It also freaks me out that this person could be anyone. There's no address on the letters so I can assume they come to deliver them themselves. I thought about setting up cameras but they'd probably know if I did. They seem to be following me 24/7 with all the stuff they've put in those letters."

Nodding, Lawrence sighs, "I'm sorry, that sounds awful. You don't think they'd actually try anything, do you?"

"I... don't know. I sure hope not, but the thought is always there."

"Hmm... do you want me to drive you home? I can walk you up to your house."

Harper chuckles. It's a little odd he's offering, but it just seems in character for him. Not to mention Harper had already mentioned last time Lawrence visited that they took the metro to work every day. "You don't need to do that, I think I'll be fine."

"You have a stalker, and you want me to leave you alone to deal with it at 10:00 o'clock at night? That doesn't sound safe," Lawrence argues.

"No it doesn't, but..." Harper trails off when they realize they have no argument. They doubt Lawrence could be the culprit behind the letters, only because this is Lawrence Cross, a pretty well-known celebrity.

They doubt anyone would throw away their career like that, especially over them of all people. Not to mention if Lawrence was hypothetically their stalker, it'd make no sense why he wouldn't have just snatched them away sooner. Hell knows he has the time and money.

Raising a brow, Lawrence repeats, "But?"

"But... nothing. I'll pay you for the ride."

With a chuckle, Lawrence shakes his head. "I'd probably be the worst person ever if I took your money, especially for something like this. Let's go."

Harper feels some relief their shift is over with, glad to be done for the day for the first time in a while. It'll be hard getting to sleep, but they're just happy to get a free ride. They exit the bar after clocking out, smelling the wet concrete beneath their feet. It's calming to smell something that isn't just pure alcohol.

"Where do you live?" Lawrence asks as they both get in the car. His hands rest along the steering wheel, looking at Harper.

They hesitate for a moment, realizing they need to tell a relative stranger their address. However, considering the circumstances and the fact that Lawrence has offered his help genuinely, they decide to share the information.

"I live in the apartment complex on Berkley Street, just a few blocks away," Harper responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Lawrence nods and starts the car, smoothly merging into the late-night traffic. The rhythmic hum of the engine fills the silence, creating a sense of comfort within the confined space of the vehicle.

Harper thinks it's a little weird, the fact that Lawrence, a celebrity and stranger, has become involved in the situation at hand. It felt like a fever dream when Lawrence stepped foot in the small dreary bar just a few months back, Harper was sure he was just a celebrity lookalike, and even now they have suspicions.

Considering Lawrence has reserved the entire bar for hours at a time just to watch a stupid football game and sip on whiskey, Harper knows he is the real deal. Probably.

"Soo... how are your kids doing?" Harper asks. Comfortable silence was never a thing for them.

"Pretty good, actually. Nathan's temper tantrums have been improving, I think he's becoming more well-behaved. Sadie and Marshall are doing good, too."

Harper hums in acknowledgement. They turn their head to watch the dimly lit street lights pass by, while also watching Lawrence's reflection in the window. He seems focused on driving, so they decide to stay quiet, just listening to the radio playing quiet 80's music.

Eventually, Harper notices he missed the street to turn on. "Lawrence, you missed it."

Lawrence comes to a stoplight, turning his head to look at them. "Huh?"

"You missed the street."

"Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought."

Harper feels a sense of dread as Lawrence continues driving. They laugh awkwardly. "So are you going to make a U-turn or what?" When Lawrence doesn't reply, the terror really starts to come up. "Y-you know what, I think I'll just get out now, just pull over."

He shakes his head. "I can't do that."

"Why the fuck not? Let me out, Lawrence. This isn't funny." They're about to start hyperventilating, but the sheer adrenaline of wanting to get away from him overpowers every other emotion.

Lawrence clicks his tongue. "You're right, this isn't funny." He's staring straight ahead at the road, completely unfazed.

Harper tries opening the car door, but it's locked, of course. They try to move to Lawrence's side to unlock it, now in a panicked fervor, but Lawrence pushes them and before Harper can blink, a knife goes to their throat. Their eyes go wide.

"I wouldn't do that, love," Lawrence says simply and calmly, like a normal person would say it to someone who was simply annoying them.

The pet name sent shivers down their spine. “What do you want with me?” they whisper.

Lawrence removes the knife from their neck and to his pocket facing the car door on his side. His eyes are still fixated on the road with the occasional glance sent their way. "I want you to be mine."

The words are so simple, yet Harper is still surprised. "Excuse me?" they sputter.

He chuckles. "You heard the news articles? About Nadia?"

Harper shakes their head slowly. "No... I... I mean... I know she…"

"She died, yeah. I grieved for so many years. We were supposed to have a family, y'know? She was the only person who ever really understood me."

"Then she must've been as batshit crazy as you." Harper really didn't expect that to come out of their own mouth that loudly, but luckily Lawrence seems more amused than upset.

"Oh, she was. My point is, she died and left me all alone. Ever since then I've been looking for the right one, but all of them wanted the same thing out of me: money, sex, a status that actually makes them worth something… but then I met you." Lawrence smiles at them.

Harper feels too disturbed to even think of a response.

Continuing, Lawrence says, "You don't care about my fame or my money. We talk just like normal people, just like we are now."

The realization Lawrence thinks this is just a normal conversation makes Harper laugh. "I think we have different definitions of 'normal people'. So what the hell do you want from me?"

Lawrence sends a glare as he drives down the highway. "I want you to be with me."

Harper laughs again. "Yeah... I don't think that's going to happen." They pause, coming to a realization they should’ve from the very beginning Lawrence started acting weird. "You wrote all those letters."

"I sure did. Poetic, weren't they?"

"No. I think creepy and demented would be the best way to describe it."

Lawrence chuckles. "That's pretty harsh, but then again, I knew they'd creep you out. That's why we're here right now, after all."

Harper scoffs. "So you didn't mean any of it?"

He smiles at them. "Oh no, I meant every little word. I just decided to be a bit bolder than I normally would. Did I do a good job?"

They go silent yet again, baffled by this situation. They flinch when they see Lawrence grab a cup from the cup holder, filled with water.

Of course, Harper knows better when Lawrence gives it to them.

"Drink it," Lawrence urges.

It takes all their energy to bite back the snarl in their voice. "I don't feel like taking a nap, but thanks for the offer."

Lawrence looks a little impressed. "I'm glad you've grown a brain, but I wasn't asking. Drink it."

They recoil further away from Lawrence, half of their back pressing into the car door behind them. "Fuck you, asshat."

"Your insults remind me of my eldest. Here's the deal, love, you either drink it willingly, or I force you."

The reminder Lawrence does indeed have a knife ready makes them scared, they'll admit, but not enough to act like this is all fine. Harper stares at the cup for a long moment before looking up at Lawrence. "Fine," they grit through clenched teeth.

Lawrence pats their cheek. "Good, you're learning!"

Harper hesitantly sips at the water. The cool liquid runs down their throat, soothing the dryness. Yet there's not a single doubt in their mind this is drugged, even if Lawrence didn't practically just confirm it for them. They can slightly taste the chalkiness of the crushed pills.

Lawrence watches them closely, and as he comes to another stoplight, he notices Harper is stalling, only having had a few small sips. "In the next five minutes, I better see all that water gone."

It reminds them of a parent scolding their child. They roll their eyes, but obey.

The last thing Harper sees are blurring traffic lights and Lawrence's honeyed voice.

"Sleep well, honey."

...

When Harper awakes, they find themself freezing cold. They have to practically pry their eyes open to see its dark. A basement.

Realization hits them hard. They try to get out of the cuffs around their wrists and ankles, but to no avail. It's hard to make out anything in the basement, but they find stuffed animals, blankets, and chains in the corner of the room. Harper prays that Lawrence doesn't treat his kids like this, at least. Surely not.

The door creaks open. Harper whips their head up to see Lawrence, smiling and descending the stairs. "It's already 1:00. You really slept in. I guess I'm not shocked, considering you haven't been getting any good sleep recently. You went to bed at 4:00 in the morning yesterday, so I can't blame you there."

At this point, Harper doesn't even know why they're shocked. "Right. You've been stalking me, too. How was that going for you? Learn anything else interesting?"

Lawrence seems to really ponder their question. "You did have a pretty dull life. It made me a little depressed just following you around. Even when you'd go out to parties you'd just get drunk and throw yourself on anyone who talked to you."

"Thanks for the observation." Harper's eye twitches.

He laughs. "Anyone can observe that, now that I think about it. But I do know everything there is to know about you. I know your history, your medical and criminal records, your likes and dislikes, and of course, your personality. I'd say I know more about you than your own family, but you haven't seen them in five years now!"

Harper's face burns red and it's becoming more difficult to breathe. "You say you love me and then you just talk a bunch of shit about me. How does that make sense?"

"I do love you," Lawrence says matter-of-factly. Harper can't believe how calm he sounds. "I'm just speaking my mind. Isn't that what partners do for each other?"

"Oh, so we can speak our minds? Okay, here's what I think: I think you're a lonely, crazed lunatic who's out of touch with reality. Here's some news, just because you get handed everything you want doesn't mean it's going to work with people, and certainly not me. And if you think I'm going to act like this is all okay, then you're seriously delusional."

Lawrence narrows his eyes. "So that's how it is, huh?"

Bold as their words may be, Harper doesn't even care. "Yeah, it really is."

"Alright." Lawrence stands there for a moment, cold eyes staring right down at Harper. Anger flashes in his eyes, and in a swift movement, he stomps on Harper's ankle, and the sound of a hideous snap echoes in the basement.

Harper screams shrilly, and soon their screams turn into wails of agony when Lawrence kicks them in the ribs. They try to crawl away, but Lawrence puts his shoe down on their back, keeping them pinned to the ground.

"Normally I'd say I don't want to hurt you, that this is all for your own good, but... I'd be lying if I said I don't enjoy this. I mean, look at you... you're normally so confident and witty, but now you're just a crying mess on the floor. My poor darling." He removes his shoe to kneel down, turning Harper so their back is on the basement floor. He grabs their face to look at him. "Do you want me to stop?"

Cringing from pain, Harper doesn't reply. They lift their head weakly to look at their ankle, breath hitching at the awful sight. It's swollen, already tinging purple. More tears cascade down their cheeks.

"Let me get these." Lawrence swipes his thumb underneath Harper's eyes, and much to Harper's disturbance, licks their tears right off his thumb. "Now you have two options, my love. Either you apologize to me and we can go upstairs and have lunch after I bandage you up, or you can stay down here with your broken ankle and starve for the night."

Harper tries to think logically, as much as the pain is making it hard to do so.

It was cold, they hadn't eaten in a while, and they just wanted this excruciating pain to stop. However, the thought of giving this man any kind of satisfaction left a bad taste in their mouth.

Harper gives him a scornful smile through their tears. "Fu-fuck you."

"What a shame." Lawrence stands back up. "I hope you'll be a little more appreciative by tomorrow, but if not, I have all the time in the world to make you into a more loving partner. See you tomorrow, honey."

With that, the door clicked shut behind Lawrence.

[t-allyitup]

ed edd n eddy alphabet soup part ii anyone?

may be headed in the direction of a fic me thinks idk i'm just at a point where my brain is experiencing a creative outpouring in the form of ed edd n eddy content

[eddeddy specific i guess. let's see]

cw for substances, implied (but up to interpretation) traumatic events, child abuse/domestic violence mention, double d enjoying calculus

[also ... i may have mentioned this previously somewhere but i'm currently almost 2 years clean from dxm abuse & all drugs so PLEASE know that interactions with substances are not something that should be romanticized or promoted, i'm not trying to do that i just also have been in high school and as a teenager substances are something that exist]

[for purposes of me being me this story features the three ed's as seniors in high school, as well as rolf, kevin, and nazz. johnny & may kanker are juniors in high school, sarah & jimmy are sophomores, and eldest kankers have graduated hs]

[eddy's brother is in the can and staying there cuz i'm not about to deal with his ass sorry]

picking up from double d's brain alphabet soup...

- beginning

but that wasn't productive ruminating for the current task at hand, no.

no, the focus of his current endeavor, as he had been sorely forcing his near non-existent attention span back too, was familiarizing himself with the revision outline for the first calculus ii quiz of his last year of high school.

calculus had been relatively simple, the theoretical aspect of geometry soothingly absent from this branch of arithmetic, with many of the classic formula/solve/answer questions (however tedious the problems may be.) double d enjoyed problems with direct, proven answers, especially ones that would simply be labeled as correct or incorrect. knowing that without a doubt there was a proven, logical, factual answer for a problem was motivating and provided structure.

although he still received excellent markings in his literature classes, and had become especially gifted in theoretical analysis and research investigation, the concept of language left him feeling rather uncomfortable. while there were specific outlines, literary devices, and general frame of composition to guide him, a compelling and well-written piece of writing was largely subjective. personal opinions of the audience were essential to the response of the piece, and therefore effective criticism stemmed often from personal preference rather than execution.

ed, a third of double d’s nearly life-long trio of best friends, had surprisingly excelled in the areas of creative writing and storytelling in the past few years. while his spelling and grammar needed (and likely would always need) some work, his ability to reveal emotion in his writing was pleasantly shocking and impressive to both edd and eddy. double d had scanned ed’s last few impromptu creative writing assignments, and had beamed with pride at each one, offering only some minor suggestions each time that the other teen had taken with great appreciation and warmth. ed had also grown to become interested in cooking, and after nearly burning double d’s house to ash multiple times while trying to cook hot dog burgers, had gotten a strict warning that he'd better work on his scientific skills if he ever considered returning to double d's kitchen again. this had led to double d spending a few grueling hours explaining measurements and proper handling of equipment, but had ultimately paid off in the form of the trio enjoying a delicious ed-cooked meal nearly three times a week.

ed had also joined a d&d league, following a recommendation from a (long overdo) psychiatric assessment that ed had dyslexia and adhd, and would benefit from some time outside of his house. double d and eddy had understood that this was a nice way of the shrink telling ed's parents that their continued domestic violence mishaps and borderline abusive behavior towards their son had been resulting in cognitive decline, and that ed having a productive hobby and solid support system would hopefully be able to keep him stable and shield him from his parents further traumatizing him.

eddy was, to few of the cul-de-sac kid's surprise, quite gifted in the areas of communications, business, and physical education. following his brother’s arrest and eventual incarceration, eddy had been hitting the gym to try and kill off his festering anger and hurt from the abuse. he had made the junior varsity football team the first year, and was quickly promoted to varsity his sophomore year. eddy was still shorter than ed and double d, but was noticeably stronger and better ‘filled out.’ eddy had prided himself on his self-described 'total beefy hunk of a bod,' much to ed's howls of amusement and double d's eye roll of affection. while eddy worked tirelessly on his car, ranting about the 'idiotic lack of, if actually existent, formation strategy’ of the quarterback, double d had become increasingly aware of how eddy's personality had developed. it was clear that eddy had become more confident, in not only himself, but in his abilities. he also showed an impressive talent for pattern recognition, strategizing, and planning. this had been a major asset to their football team, who were mostly 6'2 boulders that had clearly only made the team for their size. of course, it was inevitable that eddy would always be the snarky little attention hog he was, but it was pretty clear to double d that eddy was also becoming observant and (though this may be a stretch) stabilized. he had also gotten tattoos, one of a dragon that matched with ed and a few for other reasons that double d hadn't been paying attention to due to his uncharacteristic staring in shock and (now identifiable) gay panic. eddy had developed an obsession with piercings, too. his ears, left eyebrow, right nostril, and tongue in specific were victims of this endevor, and although kevin had rolled his eyes and scoffed at the look, eddy looked incredible and had remained confident in his appearance.

in fact, it was jimmy, who had grown up more than anyone could imagine, who was the first to compliment eddy on his piercings. jimmy had taken up swimming and diving, as well as student government, and debate team with eddy. his voice was scratchy and soothing, and his ability to tear it up in the pool had astonished and overjoyed everyone. he had been returning to states for swim year after year since the 7th grade, and the legendary smile that had always been the focal feature of his face was now accompanied by a freckling of acne. his baja sweatshirts and acid wash jeans, along with a surprising choice of reebok shoes, had been proof of his own self-settling.

sarah had become distant, although physically present, halfway through freshman year. that october, a rumor had circulated about sarah that double d didn't even want to think about, especially after sarah had told him the truth about what had actually happened.

sarah stayed close to ed the next few years, the rare instance of a unmistakable clang of a sarah laugh present after a particularly goofy joke from jimmy or a swat at the hand of ed trying to steal a french fry was rare, but had become more common. the sound of her laugh was helpful for reminding them that she was healing, and that the blazing force of fire that lies inside, although flickering, hasn't gone out.

johnny had joined a d&d leauge with ed, and was unsurprisingly terrific at arts of all kinds. he had gotten lead roles in the last few student-led visual arts productions, twice as the main supporting character and once as the lead-joseph, in 'joseph and the amazing technicolor dreamcoat.' in the summers, johnny had played baseball, and was playing varsity by junior year. plank remained lodged in his backpack, a comforting reminder that some things never change.

rolf had also become interested in musical theater, as well as baseball. during baseball season, rolf, johnny, and kevin would spend lots of time together, baseball having brought them back. kevin and rolf remained close year round, rolf supporting kevin during football season and kevin supporting rolf at his theater performances, although theater was ‘nerdy’ in his unwarranted opinion.

to everyone's immense surprise, nazz had joined a band. she had joined a rock-n-roll jazz band with marie kanker and rolf, as well as two other boys and the occasional sarah on backup vocals. nazz had also joined the d&d league, per request of ed, and had seemed to be enjoying that. in the summer she played softball, also with marie, and had spent a great portion of each season trying to convince sarah to play.

nazz had grown into someone that double d deeply admired. she was authorative, inclusive, open, and stood firm in herself and her beliefs. she hadn't been interested in showing off, focusing primarily on connection and including others. the other boys in his grade had teased her for her interest in make up and fashion, and nazz didn't care. she enjoyed ‘feminine’ things because they made her happy, just like shredding on her guitar and playing d&d and other typically ‘masculine’ things made her happy. she did what she wanted to do, and she had told double d that even if she was applying make up or learning how to kick start a car engine to impress someone, than what's so wrong with that? what's wrong with wanting to look nice for someone, or wanting to be able to help them? what's wrong with having pride in yourself?

double d had went home after that conversation and started crying. he couldn't stop, and he didn't understand why he had been crying in the first place. he wasn't much of a crier at all-in fact he hadn't cried in months-but when nazz had explained that to him, he supposed he realized how much he cared about her. he realized that the kind of growth it takes to reach that conclusion could only stem from something changing, and he realized that an inevitable and painful part of growth is change.

he had also realized that change triggered advancement, which triggered the discovery of philosophies like the one nazz lived by.

it had also come to mind that to develop such a welcoming and independent philosophy, nazz may have experienced something that was possibly quite traumatizing.

it was the same string of thoughts that double d had regarding the look on eddy’s face before they parted ways for the night. the humid july night buzzed with cicadas and secondhand smoke hung suspended under the artificial buzz of the street light near their houses. a roar of laughter from eddy followed by a the scheming, sly smirk, the kind where you try to stop your teeth from showing but it happens anyway, the light producing a halo effect upon his best friend and leaving double d in a glowy haze. the way eddy’s nose scrunches slightly with the smile and the way his deep, spruce blue eyes stare coyly at him before he takes a final drag of a blunt rolled in a way the should be considered a violation of the herb's personal rights. his eyes mischievous but distant as his lips and lungs kill the joint for good, the image of eddy flicking the discarded paper away and exhaling the smoke upwards. following this dramatic gesture, was what eddy had said to double d moments before he had said goodnight on that warm july evening.

'd, there's no point in me stayin’ after graduation. nothin’ left to stay for once you and lumpy leave for school. i'm leaving this shithole, one way or another.’

double d remembers that moment exactly. the moment that triggered everything to follow, the specific moment when he had realized that he was absolutely terrified of losing his best friend in a way that hadn't previously aligned with his stasis levels. he remembers eddy waving goodbye, calling something about ‘catching him later,’ and double d paced back home and locked himself in his room.

he thought of what nazz had said earlier that day when the older kids of rhe cul-de-sac had gathered at rolf's for table tennis and an excuse to finish a pack of twisted teas. that it isn't wrong to want. it was, in fact, a fundamental function of a sentient creatures existence, and that the external shame that people project on others for having desires in inherently hypocritical. nazz, with her laid back attitude and approachable demeanor, sharing the wisdom of a life once lived through self-criticism.

he thought of what eddy had said about leaving this place, one way or another, and it was then that double d let the pieces of his strained conscious unravel and descended into a fit of choking through tears.

it was becoming very obvious to that eddward that he was entering an entirely different plane of trouble.

- end

if i spelled something wrong no i didn't . gn

[angst-king]

Corruption of Humanity Chp3

(CW mention of experimentation, implied drugging, & seizure) Emily found herself going back to the center many times, and the information Eve had given her, really opened her eyes and made her more aware! She was still having to get used to Charlie and Charlie was easing herself into letting Emily do basic checkups on her with Eve nearby. Emily was getting into routines with them and getting to know Charlie. Vaggie was still closed off and made sure her dislike for her was clear though she never hurt Emily.

Today was different, they were going to let some of the patients out and into a lounge area of ‘enrichment’. They’d be monitored by their handlers of course but it was better than seeing them all cooped up in their rooms. Vaggie seemed too cheery when Emily told them they’d be going out to the lounge, which was a nice change of pace. When she brought Charlie with her Vaggie immediately hugged Charlie as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Taking them to the lounge Emily saw a few other patients along with handlers all sitting around. There was a small girl with bright red hair a gold streak and fairy wings sitting beside a much much taller man. This man looked like a humanoid deer. A flattened-out blackened nose, small antlers, ears, and a tail. Though his face was a greyish brown and all his sharp teeth were born in a grin. His hair was red and black as was a small staff-like thing he had in hand.

“Alastor!” Charlie shouted and ran over to him and the smaller girl, the deer man looked over and his smile and eyes softened to her. Vaggie followed the blond and they now were all sitting at the table together. Emily went to go and stand with the other handlers, seeing Eve and an older gentleman beside her.

“So this is enrichment, we just let them socialize?” Emily asked, Eve nodded and the man beside them hummed back. He had dark skin similar to her own but also salt and pepper hair. They watched the small group interact, casually conversing like teenagers at a lunch table. These guys were supposedly dangerous? Sure they weren’t human-looking anymore but they seemed to get along just like humans did!

“I see you got a new handler, is she treating you well, dear?” Asked Alastor, Charlie nodded while brushing her hair, something she seemed to do in an almost disassociated way.

“That's good, here’s hoping they drop those silly little experiments they seem to like doing with you.” “You know that they won't, they want to see when her powers will come in since her current ones don’t seem to be what they want.” Grumbled Vaggie, Charlie smiled attempting to reassure her girlfriend that she was alright.

“I-I’ll be okay, b-but Alastor you didn’t need to do all that for me you know.” “None sense my dear,” Alastor said warmly while he took the brush from her hands and started to braid her hair. He could feel a set of eyes watching him but he pretended not to notice.

“How could I let our dear princess suffer through such horrific things if I can help it? Besides it was fun, and you know I live for chaos.” Charlie smiled and nodded sitting still as he worked.

“Thank you, Al.” “You’re welcome”

“They seem so sweet, are they really that dangerous?” Emily said quietly, the man beside her raised and brow and huffed.

“You’re the new one, so I guess I can see why you’d say that, especially seeing this mushy show. But I’ll tell you now, they’re not as sweet as you may think, sure they can act it. They can be all nice and doughy-eyed with you or others but you end up alone, especially at night this place turns into a monster house and will drive you insane.” He says before taking a long sip of his coffee and leaning against the wall. Eve nodded and joined in.

“Alastor, that deer man over there,” Emily nodded seeing him gingerly braiding Charlie’s hair.

“He’s one of our eldrich horrors, he thrives on making deals with others and messing with them. He’s a cannibal who uses shadow manipulation to do what he wants, but his main thing is radio. The patients call him ‘the radio demon’ and it's fitting.” This seemed to really intrigue Emily, asking what sort of things has he done.

“Well, his favorite thing is letting his shadow creatins wander around and yank random people into a room and for him to kill. He broadcasts their screams over the PA system after somehow hacking into it and then does a whole freaky radio show.” Husk said between sips keeping his eyes lazily on the group of patients.

As the patients hung out another one joined them looking skittish and jumpy. A young male-looking figure much taller than Alastor, he had six arms, two large bright pink eyes, and many small ones as well, his form resembled an almost humanoid spider. He was accompanied by a tall tanned man, with long black hair with purple ends dressed in a handler uniform. The patient sat with the group who welcomed him.

“Angel!” “Hey-hey Charlie” Angel answered shakily, it was obvious something was wrong with the way Angel picked at his bandages and fidgeted. Charlie wanted to ask him but knew asking out loud was bad. She grabbed her notebook she kept and her favorite pen and wrote down.

“What happened?” And passed it back to Angel, who picked up the pen, and looked out of the corner of his eyes at his handler before writing.

“I can’t remember and I don’t like it.” He pushed the notebook back to Charlie, she frowned at this wishing there was something she could do. Angel took the notebook back and wrote.

“What about you Principessa?” “I’m fine” “Really? Ya look worse than me” “I’ll be okay, Al took care of it before they do much.” “Alright, I’m here if ya wanna talk.” “Thanks, Angel”

Angel gave a small smile and a thumbs up which Charlie returned. Games toys and coloring supplies were brought out for them to entertain themselves.

Back at the wall Husk had noticed Angel’s strange behavior and frowned. Thankfully he wasn’t the only one.

“Is that blond and pink-haired patient okay?” Asked Emily, the long-haired man nodded with a sly grin.

“Oh yes he’s alright” “He seems out of it, what’s with the bandages?” “Angel-Dust has a few self-harming habits so I had to bandage him up.” “Bullshit” Muttered Husk rolling his eyes.

“Oh don’t be such a sour puss, I’m just taking care of the poor thing, he can be quite self-destructive if you’re not watching.” “Well maybe if you didn’t pump him full of drugs all the time he wouldn’t be like that” Husk grumbled, Eve’s head snapped at the both of them.

“What?!” “Oh don’t worry, it's just some experimental drugs they ordered for him to try, I asked them to tone it down with the dosage but you know those two don’t listen to me” Husk wasn’t buying it and Eve didn’t know what to say.

“Valentino?” “Honest! I wouldn’t hurt the little spider, I’m just doing what’s ordered” Valentino replied though his tone almost sounded sarcastic. They went back to watching their patients, keeping an eye on Angel-Dust and how he interacted. He would sway frequently, stare off into space, eyes would roll back. It also wasn’t hard to see he was weak and shaky. You can’t miss it when he’s almost 8 feet tall! Whatever they were giving him wasn’t good if he could barely function!

After activities were over, patients were sent back to their rooms, and Emily decided to walk around and see if anyone needed anything. Looking through the one-way glass windows of each room most patients either took a nap or meddled with their own devices. The further she walked the darker the hall and then she stumbled upon Angel-Dust’s room. The taller being was sitting on the floor, hunched over on his knees. A set of hands tugging at his hair, another pair repeatedly scratching his throat and bandages. His last set wrapped themselves around his body. He was facing away from her but she could see that this was done out of distress. Shit should she get Valentino? He seemed really sketchy though, she could handle it right and could always radio for backup if need be. Sliding the keycard to let herself in, she called his name.

“A-Angel-Dust?” Angel swiftly turned around and let out a hissing noise and scurried weakly to a corner. Now that Emily was closer she could see his body was littered with scarring since the bandages were starting to come off. He looked petrified, continuing to hiss at her and doing a sort of posturing-up position she’d seen certain spiders do.

“Hey hey, I’m not here to hurt you, just to check on you,” Emily said gently staying near the door in case she needed to leave and not approaching unless he calmed down or needed to. Angel backed himself into a corner, his legs seemed to have trouble moving. He was pushing himself back on his hands.

“I promise Angel, I just wanted to check on you, do you want your handler, I can get him-” Angel’s eyes went wide and he shook his head frantically, tears started to fall. Okay, so that’s a definite ‘No’.

“Alright alright I won't get him, do you want me to leave?” Angel seemed unsure, of himself he shrugged and curled up into a corner. Still harshly yanking and clutching his hair. Emily slowly got closer to him warning him she was coming over. She stopped just in front of him and sat on her knees

“Can you tell me what’s wrong Angel?” Angel’s lips trembled as he tried to find his words. Emily encouraged him to take deep breaths and take his time. Finally, he answered.

“I-I can’t remember, I can’t remember, I-I’m scared!” in a shouting whisper.

“What can’t you remember, Angel?” “H-he did something t-to me, can’t-I can’t remember!” His breathing was quick and shallow as he continued to stutter.

“C-can’t can’t remember, brain nu-numb fuzzy” His words began to slur as if he was losing control of himself, his body slowly went limp and he leaned into the wall.

“A-Angel?!” Then he went rigid and his body started to convulse. Drool ran down his mouth and weird noises came from his body. Emily was quick to grab the pillow off his bed and put it behind his head to keep it from smashing against the wall and causing injury. There wasn’t much she could do for now besides keep him from injuring himself. She just had to wait it out. The sound of the door opening behind her had her on alert, but she quickly turned to see Husk and relaxed a bit.

“Oh shit what happened?” He asked hurrying over to them, Emily didn’t keep her eyes off Angel as she explained.

“I came into his room because he was freaking out saying he couldn’t remember something, and then he had a seizure.” “Damn, this happens often with him, it's from the drugs Val is ordered to give him. Go into the pharmacy room. You leave this room and head left down the hall you’ll see two double doors, labeled ‘pharmacy’. Grab a syringe from the red bin and a vial called midazolam.” Emily nodded at Husk’s instructions and made haste out of the room.

Running down the hall she found the double doors and went inside. The room was filled with cabinets and bins it was enough to make your head spin! She looked through the medicine cabinets found the anti-seizure supply and grabbed the small vial of Midazolam. She ran back to Angel’s room to see his seizing had stopped but he was struggling to come out of it. Though Husk was gentle in his efforts. His voice was soft and encouraging, rubbing small circles into his shoulders to keep him awake.

“Hey there Angel, come on, open your eyes for me. It's me, Husk, I’m right here.” Angel’s eyes would flutter open and roll back into his head then close. He would make these strained whimpering noises as a response. Emily gave Husk the medication to draw up.

“I’m gonna give you some medicine so can come out of this seizure alright, Anthony.” Anthony? But everyone called him Angel-Dust, I mean Angel-Dust wasn’t exactly a normal name it was a common nickname for crack though. After drawing up the medicine into the syringe, Husk grabbed onto fo Angel’s arms revealing an IV, and injected it into him.

“There, it's going to be alright Anthony, you’re gonna be okay.” Husk was now basically holding Angel though still keeping his head against the pillow that Emily placed in case he started to seize again. It took a few minutes before Angel sat up and opened his eyes, though his eyes remained rolled back. He started to move his hands as if he were searching for something.

“You’re okay Anthony, it's me, Husk, I’m just holding ya. Take it easy now, don’t want you to get hurt.” Angel slumped into Husk’s body, laying his head on his shoulder and chest. He still made the strangled whimpering noises as he calmed down. Rubbing circles into his back and whispering reassurance, Husk seemed to have it handled. So Emily let them, damn she needed a lunch break!

“You good, Em?” Eve asked while walking into the breakroom, Emily nodded putting on a smile.

“You look overwhelmed, something happens?” Did she look that overwhelmed? Sure what happened was a lot but, damn!

“Angel-Dust had a seizure in the middle of a panic attack.” “Oh damn, guess that was your first time helping someone through it?” Emily nodded and swallowed down what she was eating.

“I’ve helped many friends who have seizures but I’ve never given medicine to them or seen a person shut down and become self-destructive.” Eve nodded empathetically and placed a hand on Emily’s shoulder.

“You did your best, I know it can be a lot for your first time, this place will drive you crazy but. Just do your best. They appreciate it”

[whumpbump]

Baby pt. 8 - The Playdate

Cw: restraints, mentions of attempted noncon drugging, mentions of implied death

Whumpee and the other captive looked at each other with different emotions. Whumpee looked at their new “friend” in fear and sadness while Whumpee 2 looked at their new “friend” with relief. They were no longer suffering alone.

Speaking in hushed tones once ZaZa stepped back to the other Whumpers, the whumpees introduced themselves. ‘Quietly,’ Whumpee 2 warned, ‘or NiNi and Ama would punish them and no doubt BiBi and ZaZa as well.’

“How long have you been here for?” Whumpee whispered. “Long enough for your parents to go through two. But the second one didn’t last long before they, um.” Whumpee 2 stopped and looked down.

“Before they what?”

Silence.

“Before they what?!” Whumpee shrilled, drawing the attention of the parents.

“Are you two ok over there?” NiNi asked pointedly.

Whumpee 2 shot daggers at Whumpee for gaining the Whumpers’ attention before smiling and waving a doll at them.

NiNi got up and entered the play area. They crouched down and said to their Whumpee “if I think anything is fishy, you’re going in time out. Ok, pumpkin?” Before roughly patting Whumpee 2’s head and rejoining the group.

Whumpee 2 paled at the threat and shot their head down.

Looking around to make sure they were not being listened to, Whumpee asked “what’s time out and why is it bad?”

“How do you not know what time out is? Haven’t you struggled at all against them?”

“Well, yeah, but they drug me when I do.”

“Oh. I get locked in a room with no food for an unknown amount of time until they decide I can be a part of the family again. NiNi and Ama like the natural route of parenthood.”

“The natural route of parenthood is starving your child until they’re too weak to fight back?”

“Ya I guess.”

For the rest of their time, Whumpee quietly asked questions and they both shared what their lives were like before this.

They sat in silence for a few minutes mulling over what their life was now until interrupted by the parents. “Hi little ones! Did you have fun?” Whumpee 2 smiled and nodded but all Whumpee could muster was bringing their eyes to meet their captors before bursting into tears.

“Aww I know you don’t want the play date to end, but don’t worry, we’ll come over again!” BiBi shushed as ZaZa pulled out the eye drops.

Whumpee could not be calmed enough to take the drops and because they were away from home, they had limited options for subduing the baby so looking to NiNi and Ama for help, the more experienced parents brought them a Velcro swaddle to tighten around the newer baby to calm them or at the very least, keep them restrained.

Whumpee was too distraught to try and fight the four pairs of hands that carefully controlled them and wrapped them tight in a blanket that fastened together on the edges so they couldn’t escape.

This is it. This is my life. And for the first time, Whumpee truly believed it.

@eatyourdamnpears @whump-on-a-log