#edit: we tried to respond to this so fast that we read this wrong as it challenging us to reply quickly

[bearotonin-international]

thank you. I did not expect a reply, nor one so fast.

you are beary welcome friend

[preeningpisces]

JJK Men vs. Tinder

What the men are like on Tinder! Non-Curse AU

AN: I discussed these with my sister & it’s such a fun topic. If you have any thoughts/headcanons, pls share them!

Includes: Choso, Geto, Gojo, Kenjaku, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji

Below the cut, toxic behavior, enjoy!

Choso

❥ Photos: not the best at taking photos. They’re awkward, but in an endearing way. A classic above view selfie where he tries to look neutral/cool, but it ends up looking kind of pouty and oh-so babygirl. A photo with itadori with a forced smile, and one that itadori took of him while they were at an arcade & he won a plushie from a claw machine

❥ Bio: itadori did some major editing because Choso wrote like a whole paragraph that no one wants to read

Hi! New to the dating scene. If you like video games, anime or sci-fi too then should talk🖤

❥ Opener: pretty standard, afraid of coming off like a creep because he's awkward

hi how are you?

❥ Messaging: makes you feel like you’re messaging a bot at first because his responses are pretty fast because he's eager, but also straightforward and bland because he doesn't want to say something wrong. Itadori has to come in & do damage control until Choso can see you're interested. Very much a penpal--might be a week or more before he asks you out. He's the type that wants to have an emotional connection going on a date

❥ How he asks you out: he's nervous but he's direct. Stares the phone down until you reply

I really like you and want to meet you. do you want to go on a date?

❥ First date: he’ll take you somewhere sweet and fun, like an arcade or a carnival. Having activities takes some pressure off, which helps with his nerves a lot. Googled how to act on a date, so he brings flowers - aaaaw. Pays too, even if funds are tight.

❥ If it doesn’t work out: omg having to end things will STRESS HIM THE FUCK OUT. He's going to mull over the decision for a hot minute before he does it. He's apologetic, but makes it clear that he doesn't want to see you anymore

♡ ♡ ♡

Geto

❥ Photos: the best at taking photos. They’re pretty normal for the most part, one with him petting a cat, another at a cafe with Gojo and Shoko. But he has a pretentious black & white photo of him reading a book or staring off to the side. He looks so pretty it cancels out the cringe tho

❥ Bio: keeps it simple, he believes it's better not reveal too much. That's what getting to know someone is for, afterall. Definitely has his spotify connected

Looking for real connection, someone that's my bestfriend before anything else. Always looking for new music, any song recs?

❥ Opener: opens with something from your profile to show he actually read it and didn't just swipe because of your looks, and to start with an interesting convo!

Saw you like reading. What’s the best book you’ve read so far this year?

❥ Messaging: engaging conversationalist, but not the type to instant message endlessly. Doesn't take forever to respond tho, and if he's about to become busy he'll warn you. Will ask more questions about you than he will share about himself. Gotta keep up that mysterious art hoe vibe he ikes to give off

❥ How he asks you out: would ask you out pretty quickly, perhaps after talking for 2 days or a day and a half. You’d be instant messaging, and he just says your name as if he’s about to say something serious, & lets it hang there for a moment before following up with:

I’ve really enjoyed talking, we should go on a date

❥ First date: chill but gives you something to talk about. Museum, aquarium, bar with a jazz music night, pottery class, etc. Gentlemanly but in a cool way, if that makes sense? Not quite as strict as Nanami, but you will feel a bit like a princess. Definitely pays! Cuts out the awkwardness by saying he's going to cover things before you even go

❥ If it doesn’t work out: lowkey kind of dismissive! He’s not going to outright ghost you…but he’ll breadcrumb you until you bring it up

♡ ♡ ♡

Gojo

❥ Photos: has the most normal photos. Always looks like he’s having fun & hanging with people. One where he took an unwilling selfie with Nanami, another of him standing over a maximum height chart at an amusement park with an exaggerated pout, and a video deadlifting Geto at the gym with passerbys staring judgementally

❥ Bio: uses the stereotypical bios but ironically. You need 3D chess insight to know he’s joking because it kind of suits him LOL

If you like pineapple on pizza, it’s not gonna work 🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️ looking for my partner in crime. The Pam to my Jim 🥰 short king 👑 let me climb you like a tree mens 14 shoes, if you know what I mean 😈

❥ Opener: Gojo likes a casual and playful approach. If your profile has something funny he'll open with that

heeeeey what’s up?

❥ Messaging: weaponizes girl texting. Playful, cheeky. Instant messanger most of the time, but will randomly disappear for a whole day and come back with a lame explanation like 'sorry, was busy with work'

❥ How he asks you out: he’d ask while you’re joking around, after you roast him. Will text for several days before meeting up

mmhm why don't you come say that to my face? 🤨 this weekend over coffee my treat definitely not a date or anything

❥ First date: surprisingly, he goes for the classic coffee shop, window shopping, or movie type dates. Very lackadaisical when planning--kind of stressful if you're a big planner or have a tight schedule. A lot more chill on the date than he was over text. Will pay for everything, obviously, might even buy something you see and casually mention liking

❥ If it doesn’t work out: straight up ghosts you - sorry buddy. He just doesn't like dealing with that mess, and to him, if you haven't been seeing each other that long he doesn't feel obligated to end things directly

♡ ♡ ♡

Kenjaku

❥ Photos: normal, flattering, down to earth. He wants people to swipe so he can mess with them. On other occasions, MIGHT use random people's photos and catfish just because he was feeling goofy. Has been banned SEVERAL times

❥ Bio: Kenjaku is tricky. His profile and approaches change all the time because he's the type that wants to do 'social experiments' on Tinder. I can see him doing the whole 'I made the most toxic profile to see if ppl will still match with me' or making one that comes off SO sketchy it's insane anyone would talk to him. Even worse, will make one looking for a serious relationship only to commit psychological warfare on the poor sap who matched.

❥ Opener: depends on what he wants. Very much a wild card. Some examples:

sends a questionable link - it's a photo of your house from Google Streetview

If being normal, like Geto he comments on something from your profile: you like hiking, have you been to X trail? It has great shade

❥ Messaging: eratic. Either endless chatter, or radio silence. Definitely the most verbose of the bunch--if you've caught his interest or bring up a topic he likes he's texting paragraphs. Will get bored easily if you're a dry texter. Occasionally sends voice memos because it's like a one-sided phone call LOL . Sometimes he asks out quickly, sometimes he doesn't. Sigh.

❥ How he asks you out: I'm a broken record at this point, but it depends on his intent! Sometimes he's charming, sometimes he's insane and wants to creep you out

I have tickets to X, want to join me?

That cafe you went to yesterday looks nice, we should go together sometime

❥ First date: if he's trying to charm you, he'll take you somewhere he knows you like (that he can stand) OR somewhere entertaining like an open mic comedy night. If he's being a menace, he'll take you somewhere really weird like a Quaker meeting (thank you fleabag). Or just stand you up. He'll actually be there, just to watch how you react

❥ If it doesn’t work: will gaslight you into believing YOU'RE the one with the problem and are the reason it isn't working. You might delete the app after suffering this demon

♡ ♡ ♡

Nanami

❥ Photos: his company headshot photo, a few work function photos that he’s cropped and are blurry. He’s not smiling in any of them, except for one of him accepting an award at work where he gave the smallest smile for the photo to look agreeable.

❥ Bio: fills it out like a job application. Straight to the point.

Dating with intention. I enjoy reading and cooking. I look forward to speaking with you.

❥ Opener: Nothing crazy - very standard but more formal than typical

Good afternoon, how are you doing?

❥ Messaging: very formal and polite, doesn’t like small talk but will engage in interesting convos. Doesn't reply instantly, but doesn't leave you hanging for hours--he's a busy guy, afterall. Respectful of your time, and expects that in return. Prefers phone calls! Especially while he's making dinner.

❥ How he asks you out: he’s very effecient, he’s not going to be your penpal. He’ll ask you out within the first day of talking if he’s feeling the right vibe. Thinks meeting in person is better for getting to know someone. Will arrange all the plans and make sure it works with both of your schedules comfortably

I would like to get to know you better. Would you be interested in dinner at XX?

❥ First date: classic dinner man! Won’t take you somewhere intimidating, but definitely something nicer. He doesn’t go on dates willy nilly, so he’s going to treat you right. Will be baffled if you offer to pay

❥ If it doesn’t work: Very respectful, of course. He'll let you know quickly as well and won't lead you on. Will thank you for going on a date with him and say it was a pleasure to meet you.

♡ ♡ ♡

Sukuna

❥ Photos: a shirtless pic with him flexing, one of those middle-aged man selfies where they look stern but also a bit confused bc they aren't sure they're doing it right LOL. One of his car or a bike. He's gotta look badass but kind of looks lame

❥ Bio: BOSSY. He basically has a DNI list but for swiping. Sees it as you being audacious if you swipe on him and aren't worth his time

If you're clingy, desperate, have kids or a moron don't bother

❥ Opener: will say something about your appearance - whether this is positive or negative entirely depends on why he swiped. Somtimes he'll swipe on ppl he finds ugly just to see if he gets a match. He's an asshole like that

You look sexy as hell in that 3rd picture

Don't get your hopes up. You're fucking ugly, just thought you needed to know

❥ Messaging: very dry texter. Don’t ask multiple questions, only 1 will be answered. Takes long to reply as well. Prefers calls, but doesn't like calls where it's just chatting to chat yknow?

❥ How he asks you out: basically tells you you're going out LOL. Will ask you out pretty quickly, he just doesn't care for texting that much

Come to X on Friday. We're getting food.

❥ First date: He's going to take you to dinner, but is one of those annoying mfers that's like 'if you won't get messy in public you’re too full of yourself' so it'll be like bbq or wings at a sports bar. 50-50 type of guy. He's not spending $$ on someone he doesn't know

❥If it doesn't work: oh you know he's going to be ruthless. Your ego isn't going to be wounded, it's going to be evaporated

♡ ♡ ♡

Toji

❥ Photos: only 2 photos - a shirtless, dirty mirror selfie with flash obscuring most of his face & a gym selfie where he’s flexing

❥ Bio: tinder isn’t important to him, so he isn’t going to put effort into his profile, but if it catches him the occasional hookup he won’t complain. One of those terrifying mfers that straight up puts their number on their profile (I'm always tempted to send them something insane)

text me if we match (XXX) XXX-XXXX

❥ Opener: he doesn’t usually open, you gotta text him first. What a bitch. If he does open he'll comment on a photo, something that stands out so it isn't odd to comment on it, but still invovles your appearance somehow so it lets you know he's basically checked you out. He knows being too bold will scare most ppl off

I like the hair. suits you

❥ Messaging: nonchalant, and doesn't reply quickly. Dry, but not as dry as Sukuna. Big breadcrumber - engages juuuust enough to keep you around

❥ How he asks you out: Toji’s intention is usually hookups, so he’s pretty straightforward & will ask if you want to meet that night. Too old for ‘you up’ or ‘wyd’

I’m at X. Want to join for drinks?

❥ First date: usually a bar. Then his or your place. Very low effort. Whether he pays or not depends on you, to be honest. If he gets the vibe you don't care, he won't offer. If he gets the vibe you will care, he'll pay. Very good at reading people

❥ If it doesn’t work out: ghosts, but keeps your number if he wants to hit you up again. You’ll probably get a text 3 months later LOL

♡ ♡ ♡

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a typo?

💬🍃

(to help find later)

This has been really frustrating me, but I don't know if my emotions are clouding my judgement and if I really was the one in the wrong. For context everyone mentioned is an adult.

The other day I (19) was talking with a friend in server about a character from a book series we both really enjoy. Two other people who never read the book were popping into the convo occasionally so me and my friend were trying to explain some context. One of those two people are who the situation revolves around, let's call them Leaf (20), fake name.

I have ADHD and I tend to get really excited when ranting abt my hyperfix, I tend to have a lot to say and a need to get it out as fast as possible, so I tend to make a LOT of typos. I make a lot of typos even when texting normally, it's a very well known fact about me. Because I make so many I don't tend to correct or change them in normal casual conversation because it's simply too much work and takes up too much time when people understand what I'm trying to say anyways.

When trying to explain a character's backstory I accidentally misspelled like and used a k instead of an l, since the letters are very close together on my keyboard. I had NO idea that it was an actual word at all, let alone that it was a slur. There was no malicious intention behind it at all. Leaf let me know that it was a slur, and I immediately apologized and explained I didn't know and I tend to make a lot of typos. Leaf was weirdly condescending about it though, we are NOT very close but they passive aggressively called me their "beloved darling" and to "use my eyes ❤️". They responded to my message with the apology in it by saying "well now you know" basically, and I thought that was it. The conversation moved on.

We sent a lot of messages in between that and when Leaf brought it up again. The original message was typo was completely buried. Admittedly I did not edit the original message right away to correct it, since I don't edit messages on discord often and I was distracted so it slipped my mind. But I did go back immediately when Leaf brought it up again. They said that they felt that being excited about a book isn't an excuse to say a slur and they shouldn't feel scared to speak up about it. We were all very confused by this, because we thought it was resolved and my friend even thought that they had said something wrong this time. I apologized AGAIN and had to do so profusely, with Lead responding to my messages with "ok" multiple times. They finally said that its okay now bc before I hadn't apologized or changed anything. Which is VERY CONFUSING TO ME because I DID APOLOGIZE, AND THEY RESPONDED TO THE MESSAGE WHERE I DID.

I will also admit that I did not like Leaf prior to this incident. They have a tendency to get condescending and harp on others for accidents or mistakes, but when they perceive the slightest bit of criticism they have a break down, regardless of if the actual message meant to be negative. They also do not communicate clearly and it's usually a guessing game in regard to what they're actually trying to say or what the problem is. I know they have some other mental health issues so even though I disliked them I never let it show in my behavior. I tried my hardest to be as polite and kind as possible, because I didn't want Leaf to feel unwelcome in the server. Sometimes people don't vibe and that's alright, their needs just clashed with my own (I have a need to over explain and completely understand a situation, so Leaf being vague and passive aggressive is especially frustrating for me) and I didn't want to isolate them from their friends just because I didn't vibe.

Additionally, in a previous conversation where I was talking about a fandom appropriating my culture and why that made it hard for me to enjoy the source material, Leaf said some questionable things. They were also a fan of what I was talking about, and they didn't seem to understand what I was talking about or why it was upsetting for me. This obliviousness made me extra baffled when it came to the typo incident.

I guess I've just been frustrated at the immaturity of how the situation was handled. I make such an effort to be polite and mature when it comes to them, and some of my other friends have said I've been much more patient with Leaf than they would have been, but maybe my judgment is clouded and I should have done something different. The server that we're in is very small (~20 ppl but usually only 5 or so are regularly active) and I don't want to stir up any kind of drama or trouble when I can just handle my own emotions personally. However what happened baffled me so much I feel like I need an outside opinion.

[bts-bay-bee]

ruin you 4 (ruined)

Pairing: jeon jungkook x fem. reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 3309

Warnings: unedited work, they’re on a trip (me projecting because I want to be the one on a trip), loss of virginity (finally!), jungkook is a sweetheart, protected sex, oral (fem. receiving) fingering, making out, crying kink (it’s the last part of the story, I feel like I need to include this bc it was one of the prompts from the first part), light spit play, the “you want me? go ahead and have me” thing from his live,

A/N: this would’ve been done three days ago if my upstairs neighbour wasn’t being a dick. Also, this is unedited, so I’ll come back and edit it this weekend. If you see any mistakes, please read through them for the time being! Also also, this is my last fic on tumblr! You can check out my pinned post if you’re curious as to why I’m leaving. This is the 4th time ive tried posting this. i feel like im about to go insane. i think its the tag list??? ill start tagging people in like... an hour or so

“Taehyung’s car had to be towed, they’ll only be here tomorrow.” Jungkook complained, throwing his phone onto the coffee table after reading the text thread.

 “Ugh, can’t believe I’m stuck with you for like twelve hours.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you dodged the decorative pillow being thrown in your general direction. “I was joking, you big baby.”

 “And to think I was happy to have you alone for a while.” He sighed, pulling you down so that you were sprawled on top of him, unable to move in his tightening grip. There was once a time where Jungkook would flush red for days at the thought of just hugging you a second too long, but he was evidently long past that.

 You indulged him for a while, letting him move you in whichever position he was most comfortable in, and you eventually ended up beneath him, both your necks craned to keep an eye on the random show he had put on.

 Absentmindedly, you had begun scratching his scalp gently, the continuous and gentle motion quickly nudging him into an almost comatose state, only barely reacting when you spoke to him.

 “Jungkook?” You mumbled, drowsiness getting the best of you, probably the only reason why you were so nonchalantly bringing this up randomly. “Can we talk?”

 “What’s wrong?” He asked, cracking open a single eye to blearily focus on you.

 “So, I’ve been thinking…” You responded, swallowing the uncertainty away. “I want you to take my virginity.”

 “I know, we’ve spoken about this.” Jungkook frowned, his sleepiness ebbing away just as fast as it had come. “Why are you suddenly thinking about it?”

 “I mean, like… I want you to take it now.”

 Jungkook’s eyebrows almost shot up completely into his hairline as he choked on his own spit. Scrunching up your face, pushing away a spluttering Jungkook away from you, he was all but yelling at you.

 “Y/N, you can’t just say things like that when I’m literally on top of you –”

 “Well, that’s why I brought it up!” You defended, confused with his reaction. You take back what you said earlier; he evidently was not past his awkward phase. “It felt nice.”

 “Yeah, it did, and now we won’t be able to cuddle because I’m going to keep thinking about sleeping with you!” He grumbled, moving to the other couch, as if he was trying to put a decent amount of distance between you.

 With hurt evident on your face, you stared at him for a second in disbelief.

 “You say it like it’s a bad thing!”

 “It is when we’re in a town that we don’t know, with no condoms on hand! We don’t even know where the drug store is to get them! Or even Plan B!”

 Pursing your lips, you scowled at him. “Is that the only reason why you won’t sleep with me? We have no condoms?”

 “That, and I’m not letting you lose your virginity on a couch.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in frustration. “I want you, but you deserve better than sofa sex.”

 “Then let’s go to one of the rooms,” You whined, standing up and pulling his hands gently. He gritted his teeth, annoyance shining through his features.

 “Are you not listening to me? We don’t have –”

 “We do, just come with me.”

 Ignoring his spluttering and (many) questions, you walked to the room you had claimed for the trip, rummaging through your hastily packed suitcase for the condoms you had purchased on a whim.

 “So, you planned this?” Jungkook asked, eyes narrowing in faux suspicion. “Did Tae’s car really have to be towed or did you just tell them to stay away?”

 “Your dick isn’t special enough to have a whole grand scheme, Jungkook.” You sighed exasperatedly while shoving your bag onto the floor. “Sorry to break the news to you.”

 “You don’t know, you haven’t had it yet.” He teased, pulling you down onto the bed. Rolling your eyes, you wondered if he had always been this annoying; you also wondered why you were so helplessly endeared by his foolishness. You froze after you realised you had been grinning at his stupid teasing. Well, that, was problem for another day.

 “Shut up and fuck me.” You grumbled, avoiding his eyes, unsure of how you would face him after being so brash.

 He clicked his tongue, ignoring your sudden shyness to pull you over him, forcing you to spread your thighs far apart to straddle him.

 “I promise I won’t be insufferable for the rest of tonight.” He promises, large hands running soothingly over your waist. You hummed in response (severely doubting how he could keep that promise, but whatever), your own hands resting on his shoulders, itching to cradle his face.

 “Kiss?” Your request came out mumbled, probably inaudible, but he indulged you.

 One of you sighed into the kiss, but with how close you were to one another, it was impossible to tell who it was. Regardless, you settled in, letting Jungkook’s tongue flit over yours, one of his hands coming up to your cheek to hold you closer.

 Leaning back into the pillows, his grip on your cheek and waist forced you to move downwards with him, suddenly crowding him with your familiar, sweet-scented perfume. In fear of falling onto him (which may have probably killed any sort of atmosphere you had going on), you pressed your hand into his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles move under your touch.

 “You know, I still have a promise to make good on,” He mumbled onto your lips. You hummed in response, not in the slightest caring about whatever he was talking about. “Been thinking about eating you out ever since I saw you ride your pillow.”

 Okay, maybe you should care about what he was talking about.

 You tried not to think back to the last time you and Jungkook had fooled around, you really did. You should burn with shame or embarrassment whenever you think about that phone call, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to.

 Remembering his words, guiding you through your first orgasm alone, promising you lewd things, you often found yourself wanting to phone him again, just for a repeat of that. But you always talk yourself out of it before you could even go to his contact on your phone.

 Now, with Jungkook under you, his eyes wide, almost pleading to eat you out, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to feel shame.

 “Okay.” You whispered, trying your hardest not to smile at his barely contained happiness. He quickly sat back up again, tossing his shirt off before tugging your own off.

 “I know you want this, but if you want to stop, just tell me, okay?” Jungkook murmured, pulling off your pants gently. You nodded, too focused on watching him settle between your legs to give any other indication that you had heard him.

 Quickly spreading your legs, he left a trail of soft, light kisses along your inner thighs, hooking his fingers in between your skin and underwear, gently dragging the material down the length of your legs.

 “Pretty…” Jungkook mumbled, mouthing at your inner thigh, his sucking definitely leaving more than just goosebumps behind.

 After leaving enough marks, he pushed your thighs up to his shoulders, his arms holding onto your propped up legs, forcing you to keep them open.

 “Still good, sweetheart?” He asked, eyes flinting over to you, finally looking at the way you had attempted to control your breathing. Mercifully, he didn’t say anything about the speed in which your chest had been rising, nor did he say anything about the glazed-over look in your eye, but he gave you a small smile. “Stay with me, yeah? Can I go further?”

 “Uh-huh.” You mumbled, reaching out to grab the bed sheets in an attempt to ground yourself. Noticing this, he couldn’t help but grin, reaching out his hand from under your thigh and holding it tightly. “I’m okay, Kook. Promise.”

 He hummed, breath fanning over your over sensitised skin. Placing a kiss over your mound, Jungkook then used his free hand to spread apart your folds, his tongue immediately contacting your clit.

 Barely acknowledging your gasp by lazily looking up at you, he quickly closed his eyes again, savouring the pure taste of you completely coating his tastebuds. Breathing out through his nose, the trickle of air made you even more sensitive than what you already were, your grip on his hand tightening.

 Changing up again, he enveloped your clit with his lips, his plushness sucking gently enough to make you lay back against the pillows entirely. Jungkook let his spit dribble onto your exposed folds, letting it drip down to your fluttering core, before using his free hand to slowly push his spit in.

 Trying his best to open you up slowly on a single finger, you appreciated his caution with you, his face showing just how serious he was about making sure you were okay. Even though you knew he wouldn’t tease you about anything you two had done tonight, you felt ashamed because you didn’t feel embarrassed by anything that had happened. You always thought this was going to be the most embarrassing moment of your life, but somehow, everything just felt right, and you–

 “Are you done looking at me like I hung up the stars?”

 God, even with his tongue on your clit and fingers shoved up you, he was still annoying.

 “You’re such an asshole sometimes,” You complained, opting to look up at the ceiling instead of at him.

 “Can this asshole add another finger?” He asked casually, the single finger in you never ceasing movement. Taking your silence as a yes, he easily slipped a second finger in, mouth going slack seeing how well you opened up for him. “Fuck, babe, see how well you’re opening up for me? Pretty pussy dripping all over my fingers.”

 You let out an involuntary whimper, absolutely loving the words spilling out of his mouth. He looked up at you, face full of cockiness, his fingers moving much quicker now. Unhooking his arm around your thigh, he moved up the bed, face coming right above yours.

 “Do you know how fucking wet you just got, baby?” He murmured into your ear. “Do you like it when I talk to you like this? Like being my good girl, being perfect for me?”

 He had slipped in a third finger in the middle of his sentence, barely being acknowledged by you because you were already so far gone in your pleasure, his voice only making everything hotter.

 “Kookie, don’t want to cum on your fingers.” You breathed, forcing yourself to open your eyes and look at him. He hummed non-committedly, ignoring your request and speeding up his fingers.

 “Where do you want to cum then, pretty?” He cooed, enjoying seeing you struggle to keep your focus on him. “On my tongue? Want me to lick up every drop of you?”

 “No!” You gasped, gripping his wrist so that he couldn’t fuck you open on his fingers anymore. “Cock please. Give it to me. Let me cum with you, please?”

 Jungkook said nothing, opting to kiss you hard, his tongue immediately coming into your mouth and licking in every corner it could reach. He pulled his fingers out of you, blindly reaching across the bed to find the pack of condoms you had haphazardly pushed away.

 “I wish I could’ve seen you buy these.” He panted, shoving off his pants after successfully locating the box. You grinned, admittedly tired, but ignoring your fatigue in favour of seeing him pull down his tight boxers, muscled thighs begging to have your hands over them. “You would’ve been so cute, all shy and embarrassed.”

 “Can you not call me cute while I’m waiting to be fucked?” You scowled, watching him unroll the condom over his length. Much like the first time you had seen his length, you felt saliva pool in the corners of your mouth, forcing yourself to remember to swallow. “Can I suck your dick?”

 “I thought you wanted to cum together?” He teased, propping open your legs again and gently wiping away stray strands of hair from your face. “I thought you were being romantic?”

 “I mean… Later. After. You know.” You spluttered, your brain not working at all after being touched so tenderly. He raised his eyebrow, a fighting off the grin on his face but he said nothing.

 He leaned up, the tip of his length catching against your entrance, and kissed you gently.

 “Still okay, baby?” He whispered, right hand running up and down your side as you squirmed. “Ready for me?”

 You nodded, bringing both your hands to the back of his head and tugging him down so that you could kiss him again. Feeling him slowly push into you, you had to remind yourself to breathe evenly, ignoring the dull ache of being properly stretched out, instead focusing on licking into Jungkook’s mouth.

 It felt as his length was burning you into two, his girth something you had evidently overlooked. Nonetheless, you tightened your legs around his waist, keeping him in place for a while, letting you get used to the sensation of having him in you.

 “Holy, fuck.” He breathed, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “Shit, you feel so warm and tight, and – fuck, Y/N.”

 Giving an experimental thrust after a few moments, he all but preened after hearing a small moan come from your parted lips. Quickly moving his mouth over yours, he swallowed every sound you made, forcing himself to let you adjust to being properly filled before he moved anymore.

 “Jungkook?” You mumbled, feeling boneless. He hummed, moving his kisses down to your jaw. “Want you.”

 “You want me?” He chuckled, breathless. You nodded helplessly, trying to get him to move. “Go ahead and have me, baby. I’m yours.”

 With that, his hands engulfed your own, holding them onto the bed as he begun properly thrusting into you, albeit small ones. Your breathing changed, somehow becoming even more ragged than they already were, but he took it in stride.

 His thrusts didn’t hurt perse, but there was the slightest discomfort, which had been greatly offset by how he slowly pushed his pelvic bone against your clit; the added sensation enough for you to throw your head back against the pillow.

 After a while of doing this, Jungkook snapped his head up to focus on your half-closed eyes, kissing the corner of your mouth.

 “Okay, baby?” He panted, muscles visibly tensing from holding himself back. “Can I go faster?”

 Nodding frantically, he bit down a chuckle, knowing that laughing mid-thrust was probably the fastest way to get him from the bed to the floor. He was ripped out of his thought when you let out a high-pitched moan, forcing him to get harder.

 “Always sound so pretty for me, hmm?” He mumbled, sweat starting to shine on his skin from his exertion. His skin kept hitting yours, not that you could complain, but the sounds in the room were absolutely filthy.

 You knew if you looked down, you’d find yours and his thighs reflecting the tiniest bits of light from having your arousal everywhere, but you were too embarrassed to do so. Acknowledging how wet you were meant acknowledging how much you liked this side of Jungkook; asking him to be your first had definitely ruined you for other men. Your mind was getting foggier with each time he thrusted into you, but he’d ruined your expectations for everything in a partner. You already knew that no one would compare to him.

 “Jungkook?” You mumbled, small moans escaping you with every thrust. He hummed, hips still smacking into yours, causing you to jolt up the bed. “Close…”

 “Close to coming for me, sweetheart?” He groaned, sneaking his hand between your bodies, thumbing at your clit. Grinning when he felt you clench around him, you tried to blink away the tears you felt burning at the back of your eyes.

 “Want to cum so bad,” You babbled, gasping when he started thrusting harder after seeing your eyes well up with tears. “Jungkook, please–”

 “Keep your eyes open,” He panted, length twitching inside of you, seeing the first tear fall down your face. “You said you wanted to cum with me, right?”

 Nodding quickly, hands running up his arms to anchor yourself, you felt yourself teeter on the edge, so close to coming that you felt almost delirious. He started thrusting deeper, pushing out more tears and inaudible moans out of you.

 With sweat beading on his forehead, he panted out a couple curses. “Fuck, Y/N, cum for me. You look so pretty like this, all fucked out. Been so good for me, so perfect–”

 You came in the middle of his sentence, your moaning and panting cutting him off as your core muscles clenched around him. Feeling boneless, you were so lost in your own high that you didn’t even realise he had tensed up above you, groaning your name straight into your ear, filling the condom with his cum.

 After a few minutes, Jungkook sat up to face you, his chest still rising unevenly. “Are you feeling okay, baby?”

 Nodding, you tried smiling at him, but you don’t know if your tiredness allowed it. “Feel amazing.” You mumbled, cradling his cheek with one hand.

 “You look so pretty when you cry.” He said softly. You breathed out through your nose, laughter bubbling on your tongue. “I don’t know if it’s a fucked up thing to like, but I like knowing I give you so much pleasure that you don’t know how to handle it.”

 “You’ve had a thing for me crying ever since you taught me how to go down on you,” You teased, pushing strands of his hair back. “Going down on you didn’t exactly give me the pleasure you’re talking about.”

 “You just look really pretty after I’ve ruined you.” He poked back, kissing your fingertips. You tried not to roll your eyes at his cockiness, but you couldn’t help but agree with him.

 “Yeah,” You sighed, thinking back to how your realised no one could ever match up to him. “You kind of have ruined me, you know? Where am I supposed to find a boyfriend who holds my hand while they eat me out? You’ve ruined me for everything after you.”

 Jungkook paused, contemplating his next words carefully, before sighing, gathering the courage.

 “I can be your boyfriend who holds your hand and eats you out,” he said softly, forcing himself to look at you. “I want to be your boyfriend. I want to hold your hand even when I’m not eating you out.”

 You tried supressing your giddy grin, but obviously failed, after seeing Jungkook whine at you.

 “Stop laughing at me while I still have my dick in you!”

 “I’m not!” You defended, giggles skipping through your throat, unable to suppress your joy. “I’m just trying to think of a way to remind my boyfriend that he promised I could suck his–”

[remingtonisleithal]

Caught in the Storm

pairing: female!reader x Remington Leith

summary: two besties, being friends, sharing a bed because of a storm, definitely not going to lead to anything more.

warnings: smut, mentions of loneliness, no use of protection (don't be silly, wrap your willy), thigh riding? If you squint sub!remington

author note: if you like this please reblog! also, editing fics in the same room as family is bloody hard. Thank you @bidet-and-legolas for reading it first :)

oh gosh, that smile. He told himself he'd never fall but the moment he spoke to you, it was too late. Remington had fallen for Y/N. Years later, no one knew, but he couldn't keep it to himself for much longer.

You'd just spent the last few hours on his make shift bed on the tour bus, watching movies together. After hours had pasted, he was laying on his back, you were lying on him, back against his chest, and he was wishing that he could just kiss your head, your mouth, all of you. If he was going to make a move, now would be the right time, the guys had gone out for drinks hours ago so you had the bus to yourselves. This way no one would witness the rejection. No, no, he can't think like that. He needs you in his life.

You rolled over to face him more and mumbled a little 'I'm so tired Remi.' You looked at the computer in front of you both and saw it was 11:30pm. The sound of rain thundered down on the bus, as a violent storm began. "Shit, that weather's sounding bad." You were worried to go out into the pouring night. Remington was thinking the same things and said, much more softly than he intended, "Stay?". He coughed a bit and you pushed away the thought that he cared about you more than just a friend. It's just an offer after all, he's not asking you to kiss him... no matter how much you wanted to.

It was then that you realised you were still staring into his beautiful eyes. You wriggled gently to get up, claiming that nature calls and then turning red and regretting saying it instantly. In the small bathroom you hid for a moment, and wondered what to do. Maybe another movie? But you were exhausted and needed to go to sleep. Maybe he wouldn't mind you going to sleep?

"hey Remi?" you asked

"what's up Y/N/N?"

"Do you mind if I have a nap or something? i didn't sleep last night an-"

"Sure, I mean you can stay over if you want. It doesn't look like this storm is leaving." He cut you off.

Moments later, you had stripped into your undies (because no way are you trying to sleep in skinny jeans. Nope) and put on a baggy top Remington handed you, and he had changed into some shorts. And you were squished into his bed, Remington against the wall, you against him, no mattress to spare. It was going to be a long, long night of false unrequited love.

By the 2 am mark, the guys were not back, thunder jolted you awake. A groan.

"I can't fucking sleep with this storm" He groaned, and you agreed.

A moment passed. Silence except the storm.

"So. How's life?" Remington asked with a playful smile and you giggled.

"To be honest? Pretty bad." For once you answered the question with truth. Remington tried to wiggle around onto his back, but it failed. You shuffled over so you were facing each other.

"What's wrong?" his eyes and voice portrayed equal concern

"Nothing is right. To quote a very handsome man, I'm so sick and tired of being alone." he let out a half laugh as you called him handsome. "There's this guy. I love him so much and he will never know. I can't tell him."

"Well that's just dumb. You should tell him, no matter what happens, you have to be honest with yourself." He mentally punched himself for his hypocrisy, but he couldn't think of any other advice. What would he say, 'that's rough buddy'?

"It's not that easy. It's all just so hard. You know my track record with guys and girls, I never pick the right ones, I always get hurt and not in the fun way."

"The fun way? Oh so you like that?" He teased you with a laugh, without realising just how he was teasing you.

"Fuck off Remi. I know you have no rights to judge. My point is no one ever loves me, or seems to know how."

"Are we talking physical or emotional?"

"Both."

Conversations were always easy between you, and you saw no point in ignoring topics like sex.

You had both been looking away from each other for fear that the other might read their eyes and see the love in their souls. You were the first to look back.

"I just wish someone would kiss me. At this point, I'll take anyone! I'm just so fucking lonely. I know he'd never love me back, and-"

"Then he's a coward. He's not worthy for your love or of you if you feel you can't tell him this." He got so mad with jealousy, but overall he just felt horrible, as he believed he'd never be worthy of you. "You're perfect, do you know that?" He mumbled. He lent in, eyes pulling you closer, until the thunder boomed and you jolted apart.

You rolled over, scared, and there wasn't anywhere for Remington to put his arms besides around you. Slowly, you shuffled back into his warm arms and breathed a sigh. He moved around to get comfortable. You moved a little more, moving your hips a bit. You felt something hard against your butt and you let out a silent sigh. Neither of you were comfortable, and it was clear why when you moved your hips again and Remington couldn't hold it in. He let out the sexiest moan you'd ever heard.

"... Ah, Remi?"

"Shit, I'm sorry I didn't mean to I..." He rambled on, mortified and you moved your hips again. That made him shut up.

Turning around you looked into his eyes. They were pleading with you not to leave, not to freak. To just stay with him forever. Before he could stop himself, he lifted a hand to brush some hair away from your face, and, unable to form words, you let out a light whimper.

Neither of you could form coherent sentences, the conversation was held by your eyes. His, full of surprise, asking, 'do you like me?', biting your lip your eyes said yes. He smiled. Your hearts were beating so fast, but he moved slow towards you, gently placing an open mouthed kiss on your lips. A sea of emotions erupted in you as electricity flooded your body. He pulled away to look you in the eyes.

"Y/N, I have loved you since the moment I met you. I'm sorry I've been so scared to tell you, i can't handle the though of losing you."

"I- you- ah-" you couldn't form the words back, but you pulled him closer and kissed him with all the fire you felt in your heart. he responded with a groan and licked your lips, asking for entrance into your mouth.

You didn't hold back, and you explored each others mouths in a moment of excitement, bodies pressed against each other. You pulled away, needing oxygen, but he pulled you back, needing you more than air. Soon your were against each other, moaning, desperate for more.

"Remington?"

"Yes?"

"Take my shirt off?"

His response was immediate, tugging it off you, and claiming your mouth once again. Your hand wandered down his chest to his boxers. He released your mouth for a loud moan and you felt yourself instantly get wetter.

After muttering 'fuck' he kissed down your chest to your boobs, taking one nipple in his mouths and gently pinching the other, until your back was arched in pleasure. You nudged him back up, so you could reach down into his boxers.

He was painfully hard, and he was groaning in a mixture of pleasure and pain, as he had been hard for an hour trying to ignore your beauty.

"Please." he mumbled in your ear. Immediately, you moved your hand and put your leg in between his, starting to rub yourself onto his thigh as he did to yours. You were both a mess, sweaty and begging each other for more, more, more, until eventually you stopped humping him. You kissed down his chest but he stopped you.

"No. Please, I just need you now." So you both searched for a condom. You couldn't find one. He couldn't find one. You were dripping for him and he was painfully hard, you surrendered to your instincts.

You asked "are you good without?"

"I hope so."

You giggled a little but stopped when he took his undies off. He was perfect, enough to stretch you but not to hurt, and you felt your chest constrict without meaning to.

"How do you want me?" You asked

"However you want. I just need you." he said with a sigh

"Fuck" you moaned and climbed onto him.

You fell gently, both crying out in pleasure as you felt in all the way in you. You clenched and he moaned a high pitched moan that only turned you on more. Soon you were a mess, riding him, him thrusting into you in perfect timing, getting closer, closer, closer. Without saying a word he started to rub your clit gently. You screamed in pleasure and asked for him to go harder, faster. You cupped his balls and he groaned.

"I'm not gonna last much longer." he grunted into you, and you lay on top of him, boobs pressed to his chest, turning you on like nothing else. You ran a hand through his spiky, sweat-dampened hair and whispered:

"come into me, then"

You clenched and he was done, and seeing the face he made of pure ecstasy sent you over the edge, coming undone harder than ever before. Hands on your hips he helped you ride it out, and breathing heavy, you stayed like that for a long time.

"wow" was all Remington said and you laughed, rolling over. He climbed across you to find a wet wash cloth and clean you both up, taking time to kiss you softly and he cleaned you, only making you wet again.

"I love you Remington."

"I lov-" the doors to the bus suddenly opened, Sebastian screeched and shut it immediately, not wanting any more of a visual than he got. Neither of you realised the rain had stopped.

[elleclairez]

The Starless one and his star - Darkling x reader

Alina didn’t know what to do exactly. She sat silently in an armchair of her chambers in the Little Palace, her gaze focused on the figure of her worst enemy who decided that it would be a marvellous idea to torment her a little by playing tricks with her mind. 

The Starkov girl knew that the Darkling wasn’t really there, but it certainly did not ease her worries in any way at all. The man on the other hand, silently stood, watching young Grisha train with Botkin through the window. No one could guess what was going on inside his head. Saints even he didn’t know why he chose to pay a visit to his enemy. 

The silence in the room was heavy, almost unbearable for the young woman. She wanted to cry, shout and hit the man all at once and yet her body couldn’t move even a little. She was petrified and she couldn’t understand why. Was is fear? Hatred? Anger? Or was it something else stopping her from crying out for help or banishing the man from her mind herself?

The silence didn’t stop until the beautiful, silky voice of the Darkling resonated through the walls of the room.

“Have you ever heard of a young woman by the name of Seren Heijman?” Confusion flashed through Alina’s eyes. Seeing that the Shadow Summoner sighed and added “You might know her as the Star Saint. A bloody ridiculous name if you ask me.” The last sentence was muttered and Alina could barely hear it to properly decipher all the words. But as the words left the man’s mouth, the young Grisha suddenly had old memories of childhood stories crossing her mind. Alina could still remember the tales that Ana Kuya would tell them back at Keramzin. There was one story that Alina always adored, it was about a young, beautiful and selfless woman who chose death to save her comrades and the now long dead king. 

“All I remember is that she died sacrificing herself to save the king and her friends. Let me guess she was Grisha too?” Asked Alina with her brows furrowed. Why would the Darkling talk about Saints with her? 

“I always told you that those tales were propaganda for peasants. Seren was indeed Grisha, a powerful Inferni actually. And no, she did not sacrifice herself as everyone chose to believe. She was killed. Stabbed and left to die alone. Without anyone to save her or to at least be by her side when she would let go of her last breath.” Spat the Darkling with anger. Hatred could be deciphered from his eyes quite easily. It wasn’t hard to understand that this story was quite a sensitive topic for him, but Alina didn’t care. She was too curious as to why the man who was as heartless as a volcra would care so much about a mere woman and her unfortunate fate.

“You knew her didn’t you?” Carefully asked Alina too afraid of his reaction. The last thing she wanted was to anger her enemy. The Darkling chuckled.

“I did not know the martyr that people made of her against her will. I knew a young Kerch Inferni who was too good for this world.” And with those words, the Darkling pulled out a chain out of his pocket, and attached to it were two rings.

Two wedding bands. 

While at court Alina was able to see many jewels but all of them paled in comparison to the beauty of those. It was no doubt Materialki work.

The first was a man’s ring, quite simple, black with silver engravings on it, but it was the second one that caught her eye. A silver ring with black engravings that were too small to be read but big enough to be visible. On top of it, three diamonds were placed. Two were small, white ones looking like stars and the third one in the middle seemed to represent a full black moon.

At the realization, the Sun Summoner gasped.

“You...” Words couldn’t form themselves. Never in a million years could she have guessed that the most heartless man could actually be married. But most importantly it seemed that the marriages was based on love, a feeling that Alina thought the Darkling could not feel.

“Yes, Alina. We were married and loved each other dearly. She was the only one for who I was ready to give the world to on my knees but even more, she was the only one for whom I was ready to give it up. The moment she would have said it, I would have given up everything. The Second army, Ravka, everything.” The Darkling paused to take a breath, eyes full of sadness and grief. “What people say is true. She was everything any person would want to be. Intelligent, beautiful, sarcastic, a real firecracker if you ask me.” At that the Darkling laughed a little, memories seemed to flash in his eyes. “Loving, brave and selfless and yet selfish enough to dream of a peaceful life with me, away from all the fighting. She was the only one that I needed, and yet she was still taken from me.” At those words the man’s fists clenched, knuckles white from tension, his eyes full of hatred and yet still held the same sadness as before. Alina could even feel herself pitying the man.

“What happened?” Almost shakily whispered the raven haired woman. She knew asking that would be dangerous, but she wanted to know what happened.

“The ancestor of our so lovely King Alexander desired her with all his body and could not bear the idea that she chose to marry me and decline his advances. So he did what many Lantsov men did as it seems, he tried to take her by force. But my Seren was powerful, something that the bastard forgot, she burned him but was kind enough to simply leave burns on his hands. She hoped that he wouldn’t approach her from then on but that man, if you can call him a man, was vengeful, so he sent her to Fjerda on a mission, as he said. I was away the day she was sent away, and I only found out a few days later. The moment I received the news I rushed to Fjerda as fast as I could but when I arrived at her camp, it was too late. All I found was dead Ravkan soldiers both otkasatsya and Grisha and when I found her tent I already knew something was wrong, I felt somehow felt it. And there she was in her tent, laying on the ground, eyes blank, a single dried tear on her cheek, the spark that I used to adore in her beautiful orbs, gone. She laid there, on the floor, in a pool of her own blood and all I could do was to stand there, paralysed with this raging urge to destroy the monster who did that to her.” A deathly silence succumbed the room, Alina did not know what to say, and she became even more speechless when she saw a tear run down the Darkling’s cheek. He didn’t look so terrifying anymore but more like the young man that Baghra so desperately tried to save. “From that day I promised myself that I would avenge her. That I would take over Ravka and destroy every person who would think of hurting my and her people, of hurting Grisha people.”

“Make me your villain, Alina Starkov. But even you should see right now that I am not the villain but only the victim. The one who lost too much by the hands of others.” Alina didn’t know what to say, how could she respond after such story? Was she even supposed to respond? Was he even saying the truth? It wouldn’t be a surprising for her that the Darkling was simply playing tricks on her, again.

As if reading her mind, the Shadow Summoner said. “If you don’t believe me, there is proof in a secret drawer of my desk, well your desk now should I say, in the war room, go see for yourself.” At that the Darkling’s figure started to disappear, but Alina had one more question.

“Wait!” The Darkling looked at her expectantly. “I know not all tales are true, but some said that... she was...” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Because if those stories were indeed true then the Darkling would be even less of a monster.

A dark chuckle left his mouth, he knew what she was trying to say. “We were going to name them Elizaveta if it were a girl or Piotr if a boy.” And with those words the man disappeared.

Alina didn’t even notice how tears escaped her eyes but a few minutes later she found herself in the war room, opening the same drawer that the Darkling talked about. 

It was a portrait. An old, small and dusty but still very well-kept one.

On it was painted a young couple, dressed in wedding attires, those same rings on their fingers. Smiles and eyes full of love, so bright that even the painting couldn’t dull the sparkle that they had while looking at each other.

At the bottom of the portrait Alina was able to decipher the writing.

            “Seren and Aleksander Morozova. The Starless One and the Star”

Hope you liked this angsty Aleksander x reader one-shot. Had this idea since I saw the trailer (which is INCREDIBLE by the way) and gotta be honest I literally wrote all of this during my philosophy class because it was better than falling asleep...

If you have a request don’t hesitate to send me a message. You can find all the fandoms I write for in my bio, but I warn you that it may take a little while for me to write it because I’ve been a lot of writer’s block lately....

Ps: Hello! This is me again from the future or present (depends on how you see it). Just wanted to say that I edited the story a little. Again English is not my native language, so there may be some mistakes that I’ve missed, do not hesitate to comment if you see one. Again I hope you enjoyed this story and if you did go check my other ones 😉

[k3rm1e]

hi love,

what about a short reader, like really short (i’m 5’0 lol) meeting ranboo irl for the first time. they get kinda intimidated by the height difference and their love language is physical touch so once they do feel better standing near ranboo it’s like the exact opposite, so now they’re all over him as if he was monkey bars.

also if you do end up using this could you tag me? i really wanna read it as soon as it comes out♥️

playground

hi love,

what about a short reader, like really short (i’m 5’0 lol) meeting ranboo irl for the first time. they get kinda intimidated by the height difference and their love language is physical touch so once they do feel better standing near ranboo it’s like the exact opposite, so now they’re all over him as if he was monkey bars.

also if you do end up using this could you tag me? i really wanna read it as soon as it comes out♥️

hi!! sorry this has taken a while, i am shit at scheduling (like really bad lmao) but i hope you like it anyways!!

cw: cursing 

playground:

  sitting in the airport, you waited for ranboo and his parent’s to pick you up. the california heat was absolutely miserable, burning you up. everyone in the airport seemed miserable, covered in the slick of sticky sweat. leaning your head over the back of your chair, you stared at the fluorescent lights.

  seeing someone shouting your name you picked your head up, only to flop it back down. how fucking tall was that kid…? would he crush you? stomp on you like a large goblin man? take you with his long arms and kidnap you, like slenderman? seriously, what the fuck were his parents feeding that kid????

  after a few more seconds of indulging your strange thoughts of the possible cryptids ranboo may be related to ((mothman possibly??) please?), he walked over and stuck his head over yours.

  “hello!” he stared at you from above, your brain racing with ‘tall man… tall man scary. but tall man friend…? confuse brain: ACTIVATE’ .

  “uh, hello ranboo.” you went to pick your head up from over the back of your chair, clashing skulls with ranboo. tall man = threat. 

  sitting on the floor you held your head, wishing you could simply evaporate in the sky and then be rained down on the earth. maybe droplet-you would land somewhere colder, like greenland. or alaska. knowing your luck, you’d probably enter the fiery pits of a volcano. maybe a desert. life is a misery of pain cursing you to feel the heat radiating of the sun. your existence was the explosion of one of the endless stars occupying outer space.

  “uh, you okay there? you’ve been sitting there for a few minutes now.” when you didn’t respond, ranboo made a confused noise. “i didn’t concuss you, did i?”.

  “no, no you did not.” finally coming back to earth, you looked at ranboo. sure, you had known he was 6’6'' but the knowledge of his height was not the same as seeing him in person. you would just barely reach his height if you sat on the shoulders of a small child. even then, you would still be shorter, as the small child would be flailing around. heh. small children are funny.

  standing up, you walked next to ranboo. with any other person you would be running to hug them. you had finally met one of your best friends, why weren’t you bursting at the seems. the simplest explanation for that is that he is so much taller when your next to him. thought he could crunch you like goblin earlier? wrong. you are jack and he is the beanstalk.

  while he moved his arms for a hug, you patted his arms in a way that felt cryptic. ranboo, already accepting your strangeness, patted you back. after the arm-patting-friendship-initiation ceremony,  you walked to the car. time to leave the stuffy airport.

  throughout the entire car ride, you sat as far from ranboo as you could. when he slid closer to you to show you something funny, whether it was on tiktok or twitter, you tried to press yourself into the car door. yeah, you might’ve been over reacting but who cares? he was a foot and a half taller than you, were you supposed to welcome him with open arms? if anything, it's good you were afraid. it means your survival systems were still (somehow) intact and working properly.

  once you arrived at the house, ranboo gave you your very own tour. within this tour, a pool was shown. a pool that would become your very new home. it was already decently late, which caused the enforcement of sleep. while you each went to your own rooms, you snuck out. pool time, as an escape from the blistering heat.

  in the dark of the night, you jumped in the pool, ignoring the noise you made. finally, a reprieve from the merciless, miserable heat. “finally, sweet, sweet, cool water.” you let our a pleased sigh, reclining in the pool, floating on the surface and lightly kicking your feet.

  with a quick end to your relaxation period, ranboo put his head through his window. “why are you in the pool?? its like two in the morning??” he stared down at you and you stared back. subconsciously, you moved further away from the house.

  “... hot. i wanted a reprieve from the rise of hell.”

  ranboo laughed and yelled back to you. “yeah, i expected that. i’ll be down soon.”

  you yelled back a “wha-!” but he had already moved away from the window. he was coming down there to what? join you in the pool with his tall-ness?

  you heard the back door slide open and out came ranboo. it seemed he also did not have the energy to change, both of you in normal clothing. Running torwars the pool, he jumped in, covering you in water.

  “oh my god! jesus! why is it so cold?!?” his head popped up and he was trying to push all his hair out his face. while he swan towards you, you backed away. he paused. “look, i don’t know if you’re playing some prank on me or whatever, but why are you acting so scared of me? seriously, i was super excited to meet you and i understand if you’re tired, but what’s your deal right now?”.

  you stared at him in silence. breaking the awkward silence, ranboo sighed and went to leave the pool. “... you’re too tall.” you muttered.

  “what?” ranboo turned around and stared at you.

  you sighed, accepting your fate. “you’re too tall. you’re like, a whole foot taller than me.”.

  he stared at you before breaking into laughter. “are you kidding me? seriously? that is NO reason to be scared i’m not gonna hurt you.”.

  you threw your head back. “i knowwww.”.

  ranboo started dying laughing, and soon enough you joined him. breaking out in a coughing fit, you stared at him. “i know, i’m an idiot.” you moved from the corner of the pool and moved near ranboo.

  “yeah, yeah, you are.” ranboo stared laughing at you and you could see him scheming.

  “no. no. nonononononono.” ranboo picked you up and through you into the water as hard as he could. swimming up as fast as you could, you saw him grinning like a fox. “you bitch!”.

  this started a disaster, of splashing each other and throwing people in the water. grabbing pool floaties, you both fell asleep in the water.

  the next morning your behaviors were a bit different.  “ranbooooo. i’m bored. hang out with me.” laying on his floor under an air conditioner, you looked at ranboo as he was editing a new video. from the corner of your eye, you could see a phone pointing at you. he better not post anything on tiktok.

  “i’m editing.” he smiled and kept looking at the screen, ignoring you.

  “like i give a shit. let’s go out. get ice cream.”

  knowing you would never shut up, ranboo gave in to your idiocy. “alright…”.

  quickly getting up, you forced him to take you to the ice cream shop, holding his hand all the way. arriving at the shop, ranboo was forced to pay for both cones.

  smiling, you chuckled. “gold digger…” you heard him mutter.

  sitting at the benches, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “so, what caused this change in personality?” ranboo leaned his head over to look at you.

  “nghhhhh;;;;;;; no.” you laughed at him, knowing you were frustrating him.

  “so you just magically decided i could be a replacement for a playground?”

  “i just got an idea! let’s go to the park! we can play on the playground.” ranboo sighed. you were the embodiment of :3, and definitely a handful.

finally this is out!! i hope you liked this, even though its late. very late… yes! But i hope you enjoyed this. side question - what’s everyone’s favorite ice cream flavor? personally, i always get superman from ice cream shops but strawberry from cartons.

tagged ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@feverish-dove

[sxltedcxramel]

Lover’s Quarrel

c!techno x gn!reader

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

: ̗̀➛ Summary:  You and Technoblade have been friends for decades, always by each other’s side you two faught alongside each other. That was once in a lifetime, and should never happen again. Unfortunately life doesn’t play out that way and you happen to need him one more time... or maybe they’ll be a change in plans?

: ̗̀➛ Word Count: 1515

: ̗̀➛ Chapters: 1/1

: ̗̀➛ Tag(s): No beta reader we die like ghostbur, c!techno, gn!reader, immortal reader x immortal techno, angel!reader, god!techno, angst, friends to enemies to friends, complicated ik

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of torture and death

: ̗̀➛ Taglist: Here

: ̗̀➛ Link(s): Ao3

: ̗̀➛ Notes: *screams into oblivion* one this is all platonic I didn’t specify 😓 two I barely survived the writers drought (no friken inspiration) but I bring to you my first c!dsmp x reader fic (please be kind I tried-) basically this taks place in really old times and not modern considering how its writter like I just finished reading shakesphere although the idea came while listening to classical music so that it how you will. Also this isn’t edited so my bad if theres mistakes-

The room was dimly lit with candles and the r oaring fire that burned passionately at the fireplace. White tiles were plastered with gold diamonds, the shade almost as if it was antique jewelry, Old but could tell an amazing story. The colour completing the beige-coloured room

You waited patiently, cross-legged glaring at the clock that ticked every second or so. 10 minutes you thought to yourself while you grind your teeth. That man seemed to be early only when it was for his own convenience, how distasteful.

Just as you finished that thought you saw the dark oak wood door being pushed open. A man walks in, he wears a white loosely fitted blouse, with bishop sleeves which was decorated with frilly fabrics. Along with death-black dress pants that were worn up to the waist. His face where his mask usually is is replaced with glasses and the man's delicate bubblegum pink hair is loosely braided and thrown on the right side of his shoulder.

“Your late” you glare crossing your arms

He let out a sigh “Well pardon me for taking a while to get ready, It's almost like you didn’t come here unannounced” he spoke sarcastically.

He walked over to the glass tray and picked up a small glass cup with a gold ring around it and poured himself a drink. He eyes you “Would you care for a drink y/n?”

“I don’t drink”

He shrugs “Suit yourself”

“Technoblade, I didn't come here for idle chatter.”

He arched his eyebrow slightly “Oh?” Techno placed his cup down “Pray do tell, what exactly did you come here for?” You watched him walk to the other side of the room as he said that.

“I-“ you could even finish before being rudely interrupted by a rustling noise. You watched as your patience grew thinner by the minute he took out a black vinyl disc and placed it on a wooden box making sure the oin was adjusted well. A soft tune of the piano came out of the music player.

“Would you care for a dance?” He holds out his hand, you stare at it contemplating whether you should grab his hands, you really shouldn't, you didn’t want to play his games, you wanted what you came for, but then again it would harm a dance. Or course your brain chose the latter considering how you delicately placed your hand in his letting him place his hand on your waist the the other on your shoulder. He lead the way,(just like he always does)

“Apologies for interrupting music helps me think.” He spoke as he spun you around the floor “They calm the voices” . You knew all about the voices, how much they love to chant and clog his brain with different variations of thoughts, perks of being his ex-partner you suppose. But you watched as he hid a smirk, you guess he’s just telling only half the truth. You roll your eyes

“You can finish”

“Wouldn’t you mean start idiot” you snap

“Meh”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, his inability to ever grasp the mood of the situation was flawless. It seemed as if he never cared about the other person's feelings, unless you were the god of death you were out of luck for a serious conversation. You’ve dealt with that for decades

You could remember once in a lifetime the two of you were partners, fast and precise that's how the job went. The blood god and the angel of destruction are an amazing duo. You remember when the two of you used to watch as people begged on their knees for their life or perhaps a mercy kill. Watching as your foes tried to retreat to their bases only for their pitiful lives to end in such a disgraceful manner. At the end of the day the two of you stood in the battlefield side by side knowing the world could shake in fear knowing you two were alive

And you loved it like that desire to make people fear you brought giddiness to your body and enlightened your world. You wanted one thing and it was to get revenge.

Revenge on all who did you wrong from your youth up, and now you were strong enough to bring it tenfold.

Everything was fine, It wasn’t until one day the two of you had sat down for a cup of tea like you usually did on Thursday evenings. He told you he wanted to retire, he was done with the killings and the torture.

He was finally putting down the title ‘Blood god’

At first you thought it was a joke but then you saw his eyes and they were as serious as he could ever be, anger rose up in you unable to process the statement.

How could he leave you like this, he promised to be by your side when no one else would.

A liar that's would your made him out to be

A slap to the cheek was all you left him that day

Now here you were decades later, hand in hand dancing to the sounds of the instruments harmonizing becoming one just the way you two were.

He spun you around gracefully on the tiled floor, there's something about dancing in an empty room that makes you feel weird inside. What was this feeling? Him making you feel weak in the knees, perhaps it was the fact the last time you did this it was when you two were young and reckless. He always seemed to know how to brighten your life,even to the point the friendship you two had was envied amongst the other gods.

He twirled you across the room dipping you slightly “Cat caught your tongue”

You rolled your eyes “As if”

You saw outside the glass panes, the sky was painted a blood orange mixed with lavender purples and hints of blue. The sun slowly sets,bringing the nightfall.

You chuckle to yourself, how romantic of the sky to show such a sight for people who would die before dating each other.

You turn your gaze to the god “I need you one last time” you say cutting to the chase

Technoblade glared at you “I already told you I’m retired, don’t be so stubborn”

“I’m not, your being selfish putting your needs before anyone else's”

He snorts “Isn’t that what you're doing y/n? Or am I reading the situation wrong?” He says sarcastically “Plus I thought you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me, or was that slap something you did on impulse and you couldn’t face me after?”

You grind your teeth “It was not, and why are you making it seem like you're the victim? You're the one who wanted to leave me!” You snapped

He took his hands away from you and pinched the bridge of his nose “See, this is why we cannot have a conversation. You always jump to conclusions” he growls

“I do not!”

“You do! I never intended to leave your side, only retiring. Is it so bad I wanted to stop killing and do something better with my life, and here I thought you’d be happy with it.”

You stared at him shocked, “I..”

Was he right? You were known to act on impulse which did cause problems in the long run but he’d be there to be by your side every time. But yet, you couldn’t fathom the thought of him leaving his life behind to start a new one. Why? You weren’t sure.

Techno sighed “You act so tough when actually you're broken inside. The thing is you weren’t mad at me for retirement, you were mad that things were changing. You're scared of change because you don’t know where you’ll fall between it all.”

The piano falls into a soft handsomely rhythm

The violinist quietly drag their bows delicately

You cast your eyes aside, you couldn’t argue with the truth. You swallow hard fighting back the tears. You couldn’t fathom the amount of times you’ve been in the wrong or how much you’ve hurt him

Stupid

Stupidstupidstu-

A hand is placed on you head

“You think too much, stop that”

“I’m sorry”

“For overthinking or for being impulsive” he questions

“Both” you whisper keeping your eyes on the floor

“And?”

You huffed “You were right about everything”

He grinned showing his pearly whites “I’m sorry what was that? I couldn’t hear you?”

You laughed slightly making your worries go away for the time being “You asshole, get your head out of the skies as if I’m repeating that again”

He chuckles shrugging “Worth a try”

“So, let's get something straight. I’ll help you one last time then I’m forcing you to retire. Seriously you have no say so.” He eyes you “You probably need therapy too jeez”

“Fuck You I’m perfectly fine”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night” he responds ushering you out the room

“Bold of you to assume I sleep”

“Bruhh”

Taglist: @ttakinou @angstyx

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 08

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, eating disorder (personal experience, don’t be a bloody twat), heavy(?) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom trying to be a normal boyfriend

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

I am seeing a trend starting to develop where every chapter turns into a behemoth that makes me not want to edit it at all. Nevertheless, I pulled through on this one despite being in the middle of a 32-hour work week and being absolutely exhausted.

Summer holidays, you said? I only see extra shifts and little me-time nor writing time and inspiration. That said, though, be prepared for some heavy worldbuilding because the plot thickens.

Also, and this has been edited in the previous chapter, a new special someone makes his debut in this chapter. Is this also a hint about whose story is next?

Who knows?

I don’t know.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

“Jaebeom? Jay!” I nudge the big man’s shoulder to signal for him to step aside so I can turn the stove off before the burned pancake catches fire. “That’s the third one in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly. “I- I have a... I can’t focus.”

“Is it because of this morning?” If so, then that makes two of us. However, I tried to forget as best I could by working with timed productivity sprints instead of writing the article on Bruges in one go. It worked fairly well until lunch time came around.

That’s when I, too, couldn’t escape the claw mark.

The image of it flashes before my eyes once more, joining my thoughts with his if his blank look is anything to go by.

How did it get there? What did you do?

“Yeah. Morning. I... I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, this should be a nice evening. A cozy night in. You deserve my attention, for me to,” his breath tapers as he finishes the sentence, “be here.”

The quiver in his lips makes the roof of my mouth dry up and my mind empty save for gut-stirring concern, unable to think of a proper response. Nevertheless, I look for words to say what seems best. Like I did this morning when I went to get his medication. “How about I take it from here and bake the pancakes? You already made the batter and I can’t let you do all the work.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“I know you do, but it’s fine. Really,” I gesture at the couch by the living room window, which provides a glimpse of the small balcony, “sit down. I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Y/N,” he reaches out for my hand yet only dares to hold my fingertips, “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

The crack in his voice breaks my heart. But its the vulnerability written across his normally stoic face which tears me apart at the seams. Whatever he means, it’s nothing to do with this morning. Rather, it’s about him as a person, the wonderful man he is. 

Throat blocked by something I can’t swallow, I scan his attitude for any hint about what he truly means. “What’re you on about?”

Let’s just forget about it for a little while and be a normal couple. I promise I won’t run away despite what happened.

Unfortunately, Jaebeom dismisses the question to make a point I wish he didn’t. “We both know what’s ahead. But, sometimes it’s as if you’re avoiding the inevitable.”

I let out a deep sigh, caught red-handed. “I’m not, because I know or, rather, can guess where this is going. I just don’t know how to respond at times. And I don’t want you to feel bad so I try to keep the mood high as best I can. To, well, keep us both happy.”

“Is your avoidance of food also part of that?” he asks, carefully formulating the question while keeping a close eye on any change in my demeanour.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you don’t eat.”

“I know, but if you knew the reasons behind it, you’d understand why it’s difficult for me. Although, I want you to know that I’m trying to keep my promise to you and eat when you tell me to.” I cup his cheek, lovingly swiping my thumb to and fro over the tanned skin. “It’s really hard to escape your determination. You’re very insistent on things.”

“Too much?” Eyes dim and glistening with withheld tears, he nuzzles my palm.

“Sometimes.” I kiss the tip of his nose and smile, a sign of happiness that’s only half a lie. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. Now, let me be a proper girlfriend and cook for you.”

Regardless of the wonderful sight of Jaebeom wearing an apron and being absorbed in his element in the kitchen, it’s equally as wonderful to have something to eat tonight. Secretly, I would rather have made a healthier and less calorie-rich dish, but we both need a bit of a reprieve from last night. Thus, for the sake of us both, I’ve decided to let go of my rules for a little while.

To enjoy something sweet.

As wholesome as the sight of the wolf man seated on the couch, knees pulled up with round gold-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he reads the novel he apparently borrowed from my bookshelves. I should write a little note on the title page and give it to him as a present so he’ll have one of my books like I have his.

They’ll be on his shelves for as long as we’re here.

Be there even after he’s gone.

Then they will return to me yet still be his.

He will still be with me.

The pages filled with his love.

It’s everything that will be left of him.

His legacy.

His remains.

The thought leaving me filled with bittersweet affection, I cut the fruit to put on top of the pancakes while gradually using up all the batter. Were it not for the move to the cottage at the end of the month, I could easily be content here if he’d ask me to move in. Wherever we are, evenings like these might become a common occurrence, a splendid reward at the end of a long day at the office.

They could turn any place into our home.

The long road of the lone wolf would finally come to an end.

Because as long as he’s there, I’m home.

“Mind your head.” Despite the warning, Jaebeom nevertheless puts a hand on my head while he opens the cupboard above to grab two plates.

“I was just about to say dinner’s ready.” I let out a breathless laugh, hardly hiding the sobs at the thought of one day having to live without his touch. “Talk about timing.”

For a second, a curious expression treks across his face. It passes by too fast to properly describe it, but it seemed to be triggered by the meaningless remark about his return to the kitchen.

When a dangerously short and sharp breath escapes me, he swallows it with a kiss. Perhaps it’s the sorrow of knowing a storm lies on the horizon that makes me delusional, but a soft whine rises in his throat each time he kisses a stray tear away as he peppers my face in small pecks. 

Satisfied he has taken the sadness more or less away, the corners of his mouth curl into a lop-sided smile as if nothing happened. Notwithstanding, it isn’t hard to figure the blissful ignorance is merely feigned. “Right. Timing.”

Our gazes lock and neither of us says a word until he perks up and motions for me to step back. “Fork and knife.”

Discombobulated by the shared confusion, I indeed set a step backwards so he can open the drawer. In the meanwhile, as Jay sets the dinnerware down, I put the final pancake on the stack and set it down in the middle of the table. 

Chest puffed out, I clap my hands. “Dig in.”

Like yesterday, Jaebeom insists on doing the dishes while I settle down for the night. However, whereas I gladly did before, I now do with an uneasy mind. Arms wrapped around my knees, my thoughts run down a familiar dark path.

I ate too much. Maybe I should go home and do a workout. Then again, I really don’t want to even though I have to.

“Y/N?” The faint though surprising mention of my name breaks the imaginary stones weighing down my shoulders. I snap my head to the side, almost headbutting the wolf man who has appeared at my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lips pulled into a wistful smile, I scratch him under the chin in hopes of distracting him to the degree he won’t be able to ask further questions. “I’m tired, that's all.”

Unfortunately, Jaebeom is like a guardian who somehow notices a lot despite his absent-minded demeanour. Henceforth, the topic is all but abandoned. 

Without warning, and as effortless as if he were picking up a book, he lifts me up from the couch to hold me in his arms. Instinctively, I clutch his loose black shirt to have a grip of something in case I fall. It’s an ungrounded fear since his arms are sturdy, but it’s comforting nonetheless to have something to hold on to.

My haphazard action elicits a low chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat, although it almost thumps out of my chest again as he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only eight o’clock,” I sputter, chest tight and no breath sufficient enough to lift the sensation. “Besides, I- I don’t have any fresh change of clothes or toiletries or a pyjama.”

Did he turn the central heating up?

“Doesn’t matter. Can borrow. You. No, that’s not right. You… you can. You can borrow clothes from me. Also, I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here.”

“Jay,’’ As best I can, I try to keep my tone steady though the words come out too fast and uneven regardless, ‘’I think I should go home.” 

If I don’t and I won’t get in some more exercise, I’ll gain weight and slowly go back to how I was.

And I’ll lose him.

Back to square one.

Loveless.

Despite the effort, I can’t prevent the crack in my voice as I weakly tug at his shirt. ‘’Let me go.’’

“No.’’ The gentle kindness has malformed into rough sternness, translated in a sound similar to a growl. ‘’You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I retort, more ferocious and sharper than intended though the equal harshness might help to drive the point home.

For a split second, he snarls and bares his teeth. Simultaneously, a flicker of a second personality passes across his mismatched eyes.

The calm ocean warps into a watery grave with high waves on a stormy night.

The hazelnut cracks to set that which it contains free.

His lashes abruptly flutter shut, as he lets out a pained gasp. Beneath my fingertips, his chest caves as if an imaginary fist has dealt him a blow in the guts.

And in mine as well.

Rippling flesh.

There’s… there’s no… Jay, what is happening to you?

I hold on tighter to the fabric, hyperventilating while trying to refrain from bursting out in tears.

There has to be something I can do! But what? What do I do? How can I make this stop?

How do I get you back?

Withal, shivering lips parted to beg for guidance, are interrupted by a shake of the head hanging low. Slowly, Jaebeom looks up, a light layer of sweat on his skin. Our gazes lock, but whereas the wolf man’s was filled with savage chaos, it’s now returned to the stern tranquility it held before the attack. Nonetheless, an uncomprehending whimper betrays the fact that whatever happened wasn’t experienced consciously.

The rage was beyond him.

Outside him.

Another’s.

Still breathless, he scoffs, the sound gruff and overtly disagreeing. “Let’s watch the moon and stars.”

There is no chance to ask any questions about the swift changes in demeanour since he promptly moves to the hallway and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The bedframe of the two-person bed also functions as a bookshelf which takes up the entire right wall, the shelves stacked with second-hand paperbacks in various conditions. An empty picture frame is placed on his side of the bed, a pair of glasses next to it.

Jaebeom puts me down on the navy wool blanket on the edge of the bed and leans in to steal a kiss, which is easy to do considering I’m too shaken to offer any protest. Nor do I feel the comfort of his lips. “Take your clothes off. I’ll go find you pyjamas.”

A tad reluctant, mind occupied by guilt and terror, I start to undress as he rummages through the wardrobe on the other end of the room.

Left only in my underwear, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Although he’s seen me naked once, I still wrap my arms around myself to hide my body. A shield to protect a fragile ego housed in equally as vulnerable body flesh.

Afraid of what might happen when those ripples grow out of control.

Terrified of who he will become.

Of who he is.

“Don’t.” Jaebeom turns around with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants in his hands, eyebrows drawn together. He closes the drawer, throws the clothes on the bed, kneels, and firmly yet gently grabs my wrists to break the walls I put up. And I let him. “Don’t hide from me.”

Not understanding where the shame originates from, he grows still as he scrutinizes my face for clues. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Instead of giving an answer, I change into the makeshift pyjamas. The hoodie is oversized yet comfortably baggy while the sweatpants hang disconcertingly low on my hips. Fortunately, any skin it reveals is covered up by the top.

Continuing to avoid his gaze without saying a word, I crawl under the sheets. Face turned to the window, I pull up the blanket he drapes over me and bury my nose in it.

A wild forest and cologne with a musty hint of pages.

It’s undeniably him.

I don’t know what else to do or say. So, I let the silence speak for itself.

A language he is fluent in too despite his oftentimes loud demeanour.

The mattress dips under his weight when he lies down and rearranges the sheets to cover us both. An arm wrapped around my waist and legs tangled, Jaebeom pulls me flush against him, his chest warm against my back.

A sob rises in my throat when I feel his lips place a kiss on my crown with a sigh of contentment.

I don’t deserve this.

Us.

Him.

The fear of losing him to whatever is happening inside.

Then again, Life isn’t fair. It deals everyone the same awful hand and leaves it up to the player to make the best of it.

I guess we’re both dealt a crappier hand than others. That, or we play them wrong.

Can we win at all?

“Talk to me.” As loving and happy as the casual intimacy of the embrace is, as forgetful it could make me if only I’d manage to fall asleep, Jaebeom’s oddly sweet cooing keeps me awake.

Staring at the moon.

A woman as fickle as me.

And infinitely more beautiful.

Funny how I, too, am jealous of a celestial body.

In love with the heavens. 

He continues when he notices I won’t be the one to break the silence, his intonation laced by a whiny undertone like a dog wanting something yet being denied what it wants. “You know what I’m dealing with. But...” he digs his fingers deeper into my hips, the grip iron-like without being painful, “I hope this is okay to ask, but what is it with you and food?”

The encouraging squeeze in my side almost has me bursting out in tears again. There has to be a price to pay somewhere in the shadows, the overwhelming sensation of being genuinely loved and protected must turn out to be as two-sided as the silver goddess in the sky. After all, Life is bittersweet.

“It’s only fair I tell you.” Especially after how open he’s been. Besides, there’s no opportunity to avoid the topic since we’d arrive at it sooner or later. And he deserves to know. In fact, I don’t want him to forget my brokenness the moment I tell him about it.

We both want each other to remember our own missing pieces.

So I sigh, turn over and bald my hands into fists to rest against the warm skin of his bare chest. As I speak up, I try to keep my voice as steady as possible. “I used to be quite a fat kid, to the degree the GP advised my parents to put me on a diet. Queue high school and social pressure which led me to perhaps work out more than is healthy and left me bordering on the edge of anorexia. There are still foods I won’t eat and days I’ll worry about my calorie intake, especially on the days I don’t work out.”

I can’t help the mirthless chuckle which turns into a rueful smile. “It’s the good old cliché. Just another soul broken for the shallow enjoyment and acceptance of others.” 

Lips pulled into a stern line, the wolf man remains silent. Notwithstanding, his eyes speak volumes when I dare to look up at him, the ocean and hazelwood alight with a watery sheen. Perhaps it’s the comfort of his nearness or the familiarity of those one of a kind eyes, but he inspires a confession which I never thought I’d make. “Nevertheless, I’m getting better and it’s partially thanks to you.”

Morgan spamming me with ‘Have you eaten?’ texts and Bam making sure I finish my plate whenever we go out for food either here or abroad help a lot too. Nonetheless, it’s mostly the bookish wolf who makes me want to try.

And be a little better than before.

“What do they feel like, those days?”

“The bad ones?” Jaebeom nods. “They’re ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”

He leans in, leaving only a few centimetres of distance between our faces. His breath is warm on my skin as he bumps his nose against mine. “You’re feeling that way now.”

“I am.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re still you. Beautiful as always. And I’ll love you regardless of how you look. I like your mind, which is as weird as mine. The way you hold my hand, as if you’re afraid I’ll walk away. How you unconsciously squeeze it when you need my protection more. How you feel in my arms, soft and warm as a bunny.” He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it upward to run his tongue over my lips and nose. “Love you. A lot.”

“I love you too.” I turn my head to nuzzle his palm, my face perfectly fitting into it.

Please, no ripples. Let us have this moment. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Let me have him, just him as he is. At least tonight.

The secure affection of the touch transforms into something else when he glides the back of his hand over my cheek and folds his fingers over my throat. Testing the waters, eyes boring into mine to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort, he slowly closes off my access to air.

It’s funny how the body and mind react to certain situations. Whereas I normally would flinch and run in the direction of safety, there is no urge to run. In fact, the tingling in my chest travels down to rekindle a familiar heat between my thighs while my adrenaline-infused system aches for the wolfish lover. Henceforth, instead of jumping up from the bed, I spread my legs so Jaebeom can comfortably nestle between them.

“Let me prove it. Let me mate you.” The calloused fingertip journeying across the collarbone to the crook of the neck sends a pleasant shiver down the spine. Another electric shock follows at the coarse prickly sensation of his moustache rubbing against my skin as his soft lips kisses and nips at it. “It will only sting a bit, I promise. Please, the mark will look pretty.”

“No biting, Jay.” Reminded of our agreement this morning and the movement beneath his skin when his emotions seem to get the better of him, I pull him against my chest. Before he can protest I scratch his jaw exactly in the way he likes it, thus subduing his great ability to argue. “Not today.”

“It’s not... hm, k- keep go- What do- Bit higher. There. Like, hm, mhm, there. But... what normal-’’ Arms wrapped around my waist again and letting out a content hum, dark lashes flutter shut. For a moment, it seems he’s fallen asleep. However, his drowsy murmurs, while growing incomprehensible, still haven’t finished. “It’s not what couples do.”

“You’re learning,” I giggle, amused by the remark which sounds like a student recalling a piece of knowledge during a test and repeating it for himself.

Without understanding the knowledge completely. “What do they do?”

Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through his long dark manes as I try to come up with ideas about what we can do next. “Well, you’ve already given me your clothes. We could try jewelry next, maybe a promise ring. It’s an old-fashioned idea, but people who are promised to each other wear matching rings. 

‘’What mean? Promised?’’

I say nothing of the faulty grammar of his question. After all, speaking becomes harder once exhaustion overtakes the body and mind. I have yet to find a sleeper being able to form comprehensible sentences. ‘’They’re sort of similar to engagement rings, but without the immediate implication of getting married soon.”

“Let’s get en- enga- enge-’’ Jaebeom lets out a groan, frustrated by his lack of speech. Nevertheless, it doesn’t perturb him enough to completely give up on the effort to properly pronounce the word he’s struggling with. “En. Gage. Ment. Engagement rings instead.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, amused both by his determination and the absurd proposal. “It’s definitely too early for that.”

“It’s not!” He barks, shooting up with a pinched expression on his face.   

Scratching him like before, I manage to calm him down enough to make him lie down on my chest again. Nonetheless, his discontent shines through in the gruff scoff he lets out. “It is.”

“What if...” Prompted by the idea in his mind, Jay scrambles upright to face me once more. Lips parted, the feral sharpness in his mismatched eyes is replaced by a twinkle of barely contained excitement. However, the enthusiasm dims with a shake of the head and a low self-deprecating chuckle that ignites my curiosity. At the same time, it also tugs at the strings of my heart. “No, it’s wrong of me to ask.”

“What is?”

What were you about to say? Don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me!

“Never mind.” He lies down again, nuzzling my breasts as he snuggles up into me.

Then, he slips his hand under mine to lift and compare it to his. “Cute paw.”

Fine. Keep your secrets, you big burly bastard.

“Go to sleep.” I push him off of me, earning myself a disappointed noise which resembles a yelp. “On the other side of the bed, please and thank you.”

In the days that follow, the movement like water set astir under his skin continues to haunt my mind. In fact, it does to the extent that even the keys beneath my fingers seem to flow rather than be pushed down, causing me to flinch for the third time in a row. 

For the past hour I’ve been trying to type out the notes on an interview with a chocolatier in Bruges and compose them into a coherent article. An otherwise simple task my mind won’t allow me to complete despite the attempts to remember the good moments we had recently. The video calls right before bed, the cuddle session a few days ago when we gazed at the moon, his enthusiastic texts about and photos of new recipes Jaebeom tried. None of it prevents the likely imagined terrible from destroying our happiness.

I’m going insane. He’s a normal person. Somewhat. I was jet-lagged and therefore not thinking clearly.

That’s why I thought I felt his skin move. I was delusional.

Drunk on him.

A buzz pulls me out of my reverie, the screen of my phone lighting up with a message.

Morgan: Starving! Found a new café thanks to a friend.

Y/N: Let me guess. I have no choice but to come along.

Morgan: There wasn’t a choice to begin with :)

Y/N: Of course not. What am I talking about, eh? See you in five.

Chuckling at the woman’s classic brashness, I shake my head, pack my belongings and head to the elevators.

Outside, regardless of the November chill, it’s pleasant. The sun shines brightly and the wind blows the little bundles of fallen leaves at the roots of the birch trees lining the street into motion, scattering them over the neatly swept pavement.

Winter is around the corner. God, I hate the cold. Hopefully, there won’t be snow any time soon.

I sit down on the bench under one of the birch trees, its branches already bare. 

Autumn is truly ending now. Shame. I haven’t even had a pumpkin spice latte and cinnamon roll yet. Maybe I should ask Jay out and find a nice coffee shop where we can get them. After all, if he’s there, we can share the pastry. He’ll be happy and I won’t have to eat the whole thing. A win-win situation.

Enjoying watching the people pass by, each stranger essentially a book with a unique story that is yet not entirely different from someone else’s. Withal, the world feels colder without him, the missing part embodied in the unoccupied spot next to mine.

A delighted sigh on the right makes me snap my head around, alarmed at the notion someone has appeared out of the blue on the empty seat. 

A woman clad in a white suit and matching fur-lined coat with pale skin and brown hair glowing copper in direct light stares contentedly up at the clouds. She’s in her very early twenties, although the freckles dusting her cheekbones and rosy cheeks might simply make her look younger than she is.

For a moment, taken aback and speechless, I cannot help but blatantly gape at the otherworldly stranger.

Wow, she’s like a goddess.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach as a dark thought intrudes my mind. My throat dried up, I twist my wrists, the muscles stiff beneath my fingers.

Would Jaebeom like her? If he saw her on the street, would he... would he stop and stare? Prefer her over me or even try and give it a shot by introducing himself?

“It’s a bit chillier than I’d like, but at least it’s better than rain or snow.” The woman turns to face me, her features soft. “I hope spring will come again soon, though.”

I don’t get the chance to respond because a familiar voice calls out. Not that I would be able to form a proper reply otherwise. “You’re here already?”

“I happened to be nearby,” the stranger turns away to answer as Morgan comes to a halt in front of us, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I texted you fifteen minutes ago and you said you had to clean up. I thought you’d join us later.”

“The birth and after birth went faster than I thought so here I am.”

“I’m sorry, but what is going on?” More than a little lost, I look from one to the other in hopes of being given an explanation. “I didn’t know we’d head out with the three of us.”

“Right, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Brigid.” The dark-haired woman holds out her pale hand in greeting. “I work at the hospital as an obstetrician.”

“I’m Y/N,’’ I reply, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Lass,” wonder turned to a darker version of itself yet not saying anything, Morgan shifts her attention to me, “you look famished. Come on, let’s go.”

Offering a few muttered words of agreement, I get up and sheepishly tag along with the other women. As we walk out the street and round a corner, following the signs leading to the artist district nearby the university, I’m occasionally tempted to join the conversation. However, as soon as a short silence falls, I don’t chip in, unsure how to contribute to the small talk they seem to deliberately keep up in order to avoid a topic neither is keen to discuss. Thus I walk in urban loneliness, my train of thought displaced on my face as I let the ghosts of Jaebeom’s skin freely haunt my mind.

Right before the descent into the darkness of the rabbit hole, strong long fingers wrap around my wrist and hold it in an iron grip. The slightly painful squeeze interrupts my reverie.

Jaebeom?

I snap my head to the side to find Morgan standing there, leaning in a bit and her voice low. “We’re here.”

I don’t know how I’ve managed to ignore the bustle of students looking for a free spot on one of the terraces and loud conversations accompanied by the rustle of the paper bags hailing from the shops owned by self-employed artists. It’s also miraculous that I haven’t bumped into anyone by accident.

“Oh,” is all I say, looking at the café we’ve stopped in front of.

Wolf’s is spelled out in a modern font on the sign outside and above the door. A big window provides visitors with a view of the plaza. The interior is simple yet cosy, the white furniture warmed up by oak accents and the bare walls decorated with various art pieces, centered around wolves and various flowers. By the looks of it, they were all made by a single artist who likes to experiment with style every now and then. A few plants are dotted around the place as well to add a hint of free nature to the underlying strangely forest-like aesthetic.

A tall broad-shouldered man with short curly chocolate brown hair partially covering up the scar running over his left eye, strong dark eyebrows and a big koala-like nose stands behind the counter. Both of his arms and hands are decorated with various intricately designed tattoos. Whereas Jay is muscled yet lean, the tanned barista looks like a man who knows how to fight yet is a warrior in a society without combat.

As soon as we walk in, his lifts his head and turns to us. Playful lights illuminate the milky white of his left and raven dark of his right eye. A meadow of snow, its glimmer reflecting off of the smooth feathers of a wise bird. “Hi, welcome. Brigid, long time no see.”

Nobody seems to notice it, but his female colleague, a short woman with long flowy caramel brown hair tied into a ponytail who has her back turned to us and is busy extracting a shot, cringes at the merry mention of the woman’s name. Slowly, she steals a glance at us, hazel eyes sharpening when they fall on the woman in white. Nevertheless, she remains silent and quickly returns her attention to preparing someone’s coffee.

Looks like I’m not the only one envying her.

It is wrong to hate a woman for her beauty. Nonetheless, although it’s shameful, part of me refuses to associate with Morgan’s acquaintance out of a toxic mixture of spite and jealousy.

Such is the female nightmare.  

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Brigid muses, nodding appreciatively while inspecting the coffee shop. “You’ve got a nice thing going on here, Rome.”

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s Christian now. Chris or Ian for short.’’ Muscled arms crossed, he grimaces and shakes his head while looking down. Notwithstanding, the stern attitude melts into casual friendliness as a bright smile forms on his lips. ‘’But I do, don’t I? However, it’s not just me running the place. I’ve had some help.”

He turns around and motions for his colleague to come over. For a second she doesn’t move, darting glances to each of us like an alarmed cat checking for danger. Notwithstanding, though clearly tense, she warily approaches and halts at the man’s side.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when Christian places a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, Gráinne here still helps me out every day. She’s basically the second owner.”

“I- I’m not,” she sputters in a soft Ulster accent, fumbling with her fingers and her cheeks flushed, “I just work here some days.”

“You’re a bit more than a colleague,” her co-worker remarks, shoulders lowered and his tone holding more affection than would be the case when talking to a friend. A warm glow seems to form around him, ignited by the fondness he harbours for her.

Funny, Jaebeom wears that same expression when he’s with me.  

“I’m not.” Gráinne stiffens, each word dripping with venom as she steps away, grabs a serving tray and puts the order she was preparing before being called over on it. “Get back to work.”

Lips parted, Ian watches her as she moves past us as fast and agile like a hunting cat without any further acknowledgement of our presence. I hadn’t noticed before, but beneath her apron, she is dressed in clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era. “I know she can be harsh and isn’t easy to get along with, but I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Och, let it pass. She has every right to be pissed with you since you put her on the spot like that,” Morgan jokes though nobody goes along with it.

She likes him yet doesn’t see it’s mutual. Should I say something? Then again, this is their business, not mine. Furthermore, why would they believe me, a stranger?

So I remain silent.

And leave this to blossom however it is meant to in Fate’s hands.

The icy glare Gráinne gives Brigid behind her back sends a chill down my spine. Evidently, she is a woman not cross paths with once angered. Withal, as the fair beauty looks over her shoulder, the other woman restores her professional composure. 

“You okay?” Christian asks as he watches her retreat into the kitchen, done serving for now.

“I’m fine,” she says thickly, the next breath hitching in her throat. Her focus shifts to the moon-shaped amethyst pendant around his neck. The ghost of a rueful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as fast as it appeared. “It’s not like I’m having a vision or something. Help them.”

She waves her hand dismissively when he doesn’t move, lips parted to say something yet at a loss for words. Notwithstanding, although I can’t see his expression clearly, it’s evident her feigned nonchalance is hurting him. “Go on.”

He clears his throat and forces himself into a rigid posture, frowning as he shifts his attention back to us. Finger hovering over the tablet functioning as a till, he stares at the display with an empty and distant gaze, which is as dull as the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “What can I get you?”

We place our order and settle down at the table by the window, neither of us offering a word of solace or dedicated to his colleague’s behaviour. 

After a while, Christian comes up to us to serve the food and beverages. As he puts the plates with our sandwiches down, he and Brigid exchange looks like siblings telepathically conversing. Whatever it is they mentally discussed, it only leaves the barista a slight bit less worried though the grave expression plaguing him remains as he returns to the counter.

An expression which must be similar to mine since it prompts Morgan to speak up regardless of having her teeth sunk into sourdough bread, looking equally as somber. “What’s on your mind, lass?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and stir my cappuccino with the vintage silver spoon next to the porcelain cup, smiling at my own silly assumptions of what happened now four days ago. “Everything’s fine.”

“Except it’s not.” The raven-haired woman cocks an eyebrow, far from willing to dismiss my worries. “Now tell me. Or, well, us.”

“It’s something to do with your lover, isn’t it?” Brigid remarks, head tilted to the side as she assesses me while sipping at her Irish Breakfast Tea. Her features soften when she notices she has hit a sensitive snare, evidently meaning no harm.

I pull back in my seat as I take a sip of my coffee, flustered and cursing myself for being an open book. There is no way out of this conversation since the current company is like-minded in their refusal to simply let the topic pass before it has been discussed.

I swallow, put the cup on the dish again and clear my throat. Fumbling with the spoon and eyes cast on the cappuccino’s silky milk foam, I tell them of what I think happened. The story sounds strange to my own ears, like a terrible fairy tale told by a chaotic storyteller who can’t tell it in a manner that makes sense regardless of how he manipulates the plot.

Afraid of their reaction, unable to fathom the slightest bit of sympathy and empathy, I look from one to the other. Fortunately, my silence can be excused by drinking the remainder of the coffee although it’s futile since the thirst has nothing to do with bodily needs.

“Sounds familiar.” The woman in white scrunches her nose in disgust as she glares at Morgan.

“He was different,” Morgan sneers through gritted teeth, jaw clenched.

“In essence, he was similar to her lover.’’ Brigid points at me though she remains focused on my best friend, her voice dripping with venom. ‘’Or should I say, is similar?”

“Since when does it matter what he is?” Thin lips painted plum purple curl into a mirthless smile, onyx locks shaking in discontent. “How hypocritical you’ve become. Forgetful of the past.”

“A past worth forgetting. It’s never too late to change your political opinions, Morgan.”

Great, now I’m the one to open Pandora’s box. I should have kept my mouth shut, changed the topic.

Desperate for help yet knowing he cannot do anything, I look for Christian among the other customers. Expression stern and standing as rigid as a statue, he watches our table from behind the counter. It appears he, too, feels the sense of danger increasing as the conversation carries on. Notwithstanding, as becomes clear from the apologetic shake of the head when our eyes meet, he also knows his hands are tied at the moment.

We are on the same boat, waiting to see how the situation will develop.

Playthings of Chance and Fate.

“We’re not here to talk politics,’’ the woman in question answers, covering her mouth with her hands while chewing on a bite of goat cheese and pomegranate seeds, ‘’but to have lunch like civilized and amiable women. To help our friend.”

“You’re right,” Brigid concludes. Nonchalantly, she pierces a piece of egg in her salmon salad and puts its on the bread provided with it, a bread called St Michael’s Bannock according to the menu. Then, she points her fork at me. “But the best thing you can do is leave him while you still can.”

“L- Leave?” Utterly confused, I look at the woman calmly eating her lunch. “Why would I do that?”

Who is she? What’s more, who is she to tell me to leave Jaebeom after what I told her? He needs help and support, regardless of what may or may not be there beneath his skin.

Unless she is on to something I am not and judging by the current circumstances, I won’t get an answer even if I dare to ask. Henceforth, if only not to snap, I clear my throat and swallow the vile words dancing on the tip of my tongue. 

“Morgan can tell you why. All I can say is that it’s better to avoid men like your lover in the first place.” She coughs and takes a sip of tea to wash down the salad leaf stuck in her throat while the woman with hair as black as night chuckles darkly. Luckily, it is only loud enough for me to hear and Brigid is too busy preventing herself from choking.  

“Sétan-, I- I mean Seán was the one to leave me, not the other way around. And we mutually agreed to part ways in favour of our own well-being.”

“Sure you did. Totally didn’t resort to throwing plates and other pieces of furniture because he rejected you.”

Morgan growls something under her breath, glaring at the woman seated next to me. However, Brigid doesn’t seem to notice the reaction she has provoked or is indifferent to it. “Or washed clothes at the ford where he so ‘happened’ to pass by. Funny how he died soon after.”

Ford? There are quite a few in Ireland, so where and most importantly, when was this? Then again, what are these two on about? Washing clothes in a ford, people dying, politics, lovers to leave. They’re like arguing voices from ancient times.

Moreover, there is the question of Seán’s life. Is he alive or dead? One moment she speaks of him as if he’s still here, but then why would Brigid remark he’s dead?

“You shut your whoremouth, traitor!” With a loud bang, Morgan slams her fists on the table. She stands up with an expression that makes me cower in fear despite not being the target of her wrath.

Behind the counter, Christian slowly comes into motion, carefully moving with the likely intent to inconspicuously circle our table and jump in if necessary. He flinches as Gráinne places a hand on his arm, holding him hard enough for her knuckles to turn white when he tries to escape from her grip in order to prevent the worst from happening. Notwithstanding, whatever the plan was, it goes to waste since he decides to listen to what his colleague tells him. Sighing deeply, he stands down although he continues to observe us.

Gráinne follows his gaze, which seems to be directed at the brown-haired woman in white, her personal target of envy. Her wolfishly fierce expression falters, growing as bleak as the ash of a great bonfire.

This time he doesn’t see how she comes apart at the seams.

Brigid calmly finishes her tea, daps her mouth on the napkin and stands up too. “Get over your crush. There’s no future for you with him. As for you, Y/N,” eyes oddly alight with motherly affection, she turns her attention to me, “and as a piece of advice from a friend, end this relationship while you still can. There’s only heartbreak ahead.”

“Thank you, but,” a wistful smile forms on my lips regardless of the urge to give into the savage nagging inside, “I can’t leave him because I made a promise to stay.”

“I see. Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong and the flowers will bloom in spring.”

And with those final cryptic words, she leaves the café after waving at the tattooed barista.

Or so Brigid intends, but her way is cut off by his colleague. 

While clumsily taking off her apron she storms outside, clenching it hard and shivering as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Gráinne? Gráinne!” Christian runs after his colleague, pale and eyes wide with worry as he comes to a halt in the doorway. “Where are you going? Gráinne!”

Brigid places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling squeeze. After giving him an encouraging slap on the back she sets off, leaving the man standing there like a defeated soldier.

“Poor lass,” Morgan whispers as she watches the female barista pass the window. Something in her tone hints at a level of familiarity between the two.

“You know her?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think she remembers me.” She glances at Chris, who has retreated behind the counter. He has his head bowed, smooth black locks hiding his face from the customers. Trembling fingers entwined to conceal his distress as best as possible, he resembles a man of religion fervently praying for forgiveness. “And neither does he. I saw him and his close friend, Finn, once in the woods. No, it was his brother, Jor… was it? When he came to the island. Was that… who was that?’’

A mist clouds her ocean blue eyes, lost in thoughts far removed from this world and time. ‘’He was there. As for Gráinne, we met… somewhere. There was smoke, a burning body. It was- It was at… where? Fuck, I can’t recall. I think it was at his fu-’’ she abruptly cuts herself short to correct herself with a strange undertone in her voice, “not long after I... saw them.”

‘’Morgan, are you alright? You’re looking awfully pale.’’ 

Instead of breaking free from the spell that has taken hold of her, the reverie only seems to deepen. Rocking side to side, she clutches her arms to her chest. Her skin, although naturally pale, grows sickly like a walking corpse.

‘’I- I’m supposed to remember. I’m one of the few that do. No, he and I are the only ones left that do. I can’t forget. If I do, everyone will. I can’t… I can’t!’’

‘’Morgan!’’ I stand up from my seat to rush to her side. Rubbing her arms, I try with all my might to bring her back to reality from the depths of deliria. ‘’It’s all right, Morgan, nobody is going to forget. Please listen to me and follow my voice, use it as a guide back to me from wherever it is you are. Please, come back to me.’’

‘’May I?’’ Christian has appeared with a glass of water, which he sets on the table before crouching down at the woman’s side as well.

Gently he grabs one of her hands and holds it, talking in a voice that is surprisingly steady and soothing in spite of what happened mere moments ago. It’s rougher and more gruff, making it hard to distinguish one word from another if you are not well-acquainted with the speaker.

In fact, it belongs to a completely different person. ‘’Morgan, as long as there are people who remember, there is nothing to fear. The past has taught us that what might seem like the end isn’t necessarily truly the end. We are still here. We remember because you do and you remember because we do. You’re safe and sound. Instead, return and help me make her remember.’’

‘’Why, of everyone, did you have to fall for her?’’ Gaze blinded by her mind, Morgan reaches out to tenderly run her fingers through the barista’s hair. ‘’What makes her special?’’ 

‘’She understands.’’ A similar fog veils the misty white and dark eyes, Chris or, rather, the stranger pulled into the same realm of consciousness as my friend. ‘’She broke the chains that bound me and doesn’t allow me to slip into the shadows of what I once was.’’

‘’You’re all the same, aren’t you?’’

‘’It’s rare to find understanding and acceptance in a world naturally turned against you. So, please help me. Help me find her.’’ His voice breaks, the begging words coming out  high-pitched like a whining wolf. ‘’Help me find my reason to stay in this world and not forget nor be forgotten.’’ 

The veil lifts, the spell broken with the whimpered plea. 

Christian falls back, but manages to catch himself before his head hits the tiles. Refusing every helping hand from the customers hurrying over, he scrambles to his feet. Fortunately, he accepts the chair I offer him when his dangerous swaying almost causes him to hit his head against the wall.

‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Yeah, I’m only dizzy.’’ The hiss he lets out flows over into a sound akin to a growl. ‘’And a splitting headache.’’

Morgan has a better return to reality, completely fine aside from a dazed mind. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’You tell me.’’ I search her face for clues, a sliver of the knowledge she is lying. However, I find none.

She is telling the truth.

‘’I… I don’t know. It’s the first time.’’ She clears her throat, brow furrowed. As if having heard a noise, she snaps her head to the side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Drink your tea, eat a sandwich and go home early from work.”

She hands the glass of water to Christian. ‘’And you, you drink this and stay seated for at least five more minutes until the dizziness has faded. Are you nauseous?’’

‘’No. Although,’’ he dry heaves, ‘’never mind.’’

‘’Make it ten. You look as pale as a banshee.’’

‘’Speak for yourself.’’

‘’You’d make a pretty one, though,’’ Morgan muses when she returns her attention to me. ‘’Beauty makes suffering leading to death easier.’’

Apparently, her return to reality has left her as mad as a hatter so perhaps it wasn’t as good as I initially thought.

“Why on earth would you say that? Besides, what kind of comparison is that, us and a banshee?”

“One based on truth. Now,” she shoves the remainder of her goat cheese and pomegranate sandwich to me, “eat, rest up and get cracking again. We’ll be in touch and visit the new café I found yesterday later, alright?”

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you headed off to?’’

She can’t be serious. There is no way she is unaffected by what happened. 

“Attagirl,’’ Morgan says as if I promised to heed her words, ignoring what I actually said. ‘’By the way, ignore what Brigid said and stay with your man. It’s plain to see how he makes you feel.”

“It is?”

“You’re glowing and you come alive when you speak of him. It reminds me of how I was with Seán.” She starts as if awakened from a dream, but tries to hide her awkwardness behind a sheepish smile. “Well, then, take care.”

“You too.’’ The two simple words, otherwise casual, are now carefully chosen in order to not to trigger another ‘attack’.

My gut tight and skin prickling thanks to her inhuman behaviour, I watch the raven-haired woman leave. I hold my wrist, my pulse too rapid to be healthy beneath my thumb.

Like I am at death’s door.

The next morning, there’s an article in the newspaper. A man’s been found dead at the edge of the bogs near town. The cause of his demise is unknown, but there are witness accounts who said they heard a high screech late the night before. In the days that follow, their names show up one by one in funerary advertisements.

A week later, none of the witnesses are alive. Moreover, nobody has heard the screeching since, though everyone remembers the description of the sound.

It was like the howl of a banshee.

[25centsoda]

Star Wars Fanfic - Wisdom Teeth

I just got my wisdom teeth out the other day...you know what that means! Luke too!

I just wrote this in one sitting and there is very minimal editing. If I ever feel like cleaning this up I’ll throw it on AO3 (and possibly make it longer, possibly leave it as-is).

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The world filtered up slowly, rising from the smoke of dreams. The first thing Luke was aware of was that there was a blanket on his chest. It was warm, and soft. The room faded into view.

His tired mind dimly registered the fact that the blanket was blue, and the walls were off-white. The lights confused him. They shone blindingly, obscuring much of the space. Between the two of them, the only other thing he could make out were the empty chairs beside him.

Luke drifted.

The world was quiet, as if buried beneath sand. There might have been a memory of being supported on each side as he was led down a hallway, but that could have easily been a dream; the memory was shadowy and indistinct.

He moved his hand slightly. Yes, the blanket was soft.

Words filtered into his consciousness. Murmurs, far away and nonsensical. He couldn’t summon the will or strength to focus on them.

Through the Force, a spike of emotion.

It was quickly washed away by his exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes fluttered closed. His mouth hung open slightly. Something held it open. What was it? Why was it there? 

He forced his eyes open again and squinted at the room, trying to bring it into focus.

Medbay, his mind finally supplied. Now he could tell that he was seeing double. Closing one eye or the other turned the two chairs into one. He entertained himself with looking at each part of the curtained-off room in turn. The small table on his other side. The curtain rod. His own covered legs.

A commotion outside in the hall filtered into his awareness. Luke made a small questioning noise he wasn’t sure even left his throat and turned his head slightly towards the sound.

It sounded almost like...blaster shots?

Behind the curtain, a door hissed open. Cold followed like a shadow. Luke closed his eyes against the chill, grateful for the blanket. Loud, rhythmic breathing grated against his ears. He peered up through his eyelashes.

Vader.

Father.

Was this another dream? Luke’s eyes melted closed again.

He was on the verge of falling asleep once more when the sound of flimsy being shifted pulled him back towards consciousness again. He was almost tempted to wave the sound away, annoyed, but his limbs felt like lead. It wasn’t worth the effort. Amusement washed gently over him in the Force.

The flimsy was folded and shifted against something, then the noise stopped. Something carefully stroked his hand through the blanket.

“Come, young one. It is time to go home.”

Luke managed something between a hum and a groan. That amusement came again, along with an undercurrent of love. He peeled open his eyes and squinted up at his father’s insectoid mask.

Vader helped him sit up while Luke stared at him. His mind spun slowly. His father couldn’t really be here, right? The last thing he remembered...the last thing he remembered…

That shadowy image of being helped across a hallway resurfaced. He pushed it away. Before that, there was…

The surgery!

The Empire had been quiet for long enough that the Alliance decided to take the opportunity to get its soldiers and staff medical care while they could afford both the time and expense. Luke had been brought in to get several teeth removed that had grown in sideways. Leia was supposed to be with him when he woke up.

Where was she?

Luke was pulled to his feet and he stumbled, knees weak beneath him. His head rocked with vertigo. Without thinking, he clung to the arm supporting him.

Where was Leia? She was supposed to be here…

He barely noticed the hallways passing under his feet, focus taken up by the effort of staying upright and trying to figure out where Leia could be.

Maybe...maybe he was hallucinating, and what he thought was his father was actually just Leia.

Luke made a noise that was meant to be “Leia?” but all that came out was nonsense. He furrowed his brow when he realized he couldn’t feel his tongue. Or most of his mouth, really.

The person leading him didn’t respond.

Something was wrong.

“Nng,” he managed, tugging his arm away from their grip. They held on tighter as he stumbled, keeping him upright.

“Hush, young one. You’re safe.” A feeling of security washed through him with those words, overpowering the panic that had begun to rise through the fog of sedation. He leaned on their arm for support. “There. We’re nearly to my ship, then you can rest some more.”

Their boots clanged on a ramp. Luke’s socked feet didn’t make a sound.

The next thing he knew, he was being buckled into a seat. In front of him, a viewport showed the mountains of the planet the Rebels had made their latest base on.

The ship vibrated as it took off, and Luke fell back asleep.

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

Vader marveled at the boy sleeping next to him. At long last; his son. He had been most fortunate in finding the boy and his rebellion in such a state. It had been laughably easy to invade the base and take Luke. The Rebels had grown complacent.

As he piloted the shuttle back to the Executor, he puzzled over the sheet of flimsy that had been tied to the end of his son’s medical bed. “Wisdom tooth extraction”, it had read, along with instructions for care once the boy was released from the medbay.

Vader had heard of such a thing - Obi-Wan had told Anakin Skywalker of his own experience with the procedure, but Skywalker never had a need for it. Evidently Vader’s son did. Incompetent as they were, the Rebellion did not waste money and soldiers on unnecessary medical procedures.

Glancing at Luke again, Vader wondered if perhaps he should have paid closer attention to the sheet before leaving with his son. The boy may need supplies the Executor did not have; the surgery was most often performed on humans younger than the majority of his officers, and Star Destroyers were not equipped for most non-injurious surgeries.

No matter. If anything needed to be acquired, he would get it.

First, he had to get his son to the rooms he had prepared.

Although they would evidently need slight modifications as the boy was recovering from surgery…

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

When Luke woke again, he was once more covered in a blanket. This time, however, he was also propped up by many pillows on all sides, and there were ice packs on both cheeks.

Where was he?

At his confused hum, his father reappeared beside him. Luke’s eyes widened.

Oh. So it hadn’t been a hallucination, then. His father actually...just kidnapped him out of the medbay.

Kriff.

“Father,” he tried, but he still couldn’t feel his mouth. He huffed in frustration, then winced when doing so pulled at his sore jaw. He mimed writing on his hand, looking at his father through narrowed eyes and hoping that conveyed his frustration.

Vader handed him a datapad and pen.

Luke held the pen above the datapad for a minute, trying to decide what to say. He eventually settled on, What did you do?

“You had a surgery, young one,” Vader said. Before he could finish, Luke started writing again. “I did nothing to you.”

I know I had surgery. Where did you take me? What about the base?

“You are on my flagship, the Executor. The Rebel base was taken by the Empire, although I believe the Princess and Wookie escaped, if you are worried about them.”

No dark side.

Vader inclined his head. “You are in no state to begin your training, I agree. However, there are other things you should be aware of in the meantime. For example, the sheet your medic left indicates that the gauze in your mouth should be changed every 30 minutes, the ice should remain as much as possible without causing damage, and you are not to have solid foods for the next several days.”

Luke looked up at the ceiling in lieu of throwing his head back. Kriff. He thought it would be bad to go through this back on base with his friends; to do it stuck with the Empire? With his father? The man had chopped off his hand during their last meeting; Luke had since come to terms with both the news and the prosthetic, but that didn’t mean he trusted his father with his health.

He cleared the screen and wrote again. I want to see a medic.

“They will not tell you anything different, Luke.”

He underlined the sentence and gave his father a pointed look with as much vitriol as he could muster.

Vader sighed, an odd, staticky sound. “Very well. I will call for him.”

Luke watched with interest as his father picked up a slim remote from a small table next to the bed Luke was propped up in, and pressed a button. A small buzz sounded. Moments later, the door hissed open and a man in a medic’s uniform stepped through, clipboard in hand. He bowed, and approached.

“Commander Skywalker, Medic Kix at your service,” the man said. “What can I do for you?”

Luke reset the screen and wrote, then held up the datapad.

What will my recovery look like? How long will it take?

Kix nodded and said, “This first day, there’s going to be a lot of blood. It should clot by the end of today and over the next few days there should be some swelling. The ice will help keep that down. You’ll need to change the gauze every thirty minutes to help the blood clot and keep you from swallowing too much of it. Take it easy for the next few days; no strenuous exercise. Liquid foods only for today, then tomorrow you can start moving on to soft foods like pudding. We’ll talk more about the day after when we get there. You should be fully healed in two to three weeks, assuming all goes well.”

Two to three weeks??

“Yes sir. As you were not treated by one of our medics, I’m unsure how well the surgery was performed, but rest assured we will do everything we can to ensure your healing is as fast and comfortable as possible. Any other questions?”

Kix waited patiently as Luke wrote.

Can I change my own gauze?

He did not want his father to try to interfere more than strictly necessary.

The medic hesitated. “...Yes, but I would advise that you have somebody help you. If you’d like, I can assign you a medic for the next few days.”

“I can--” Vader started, but Luke interrupted him by holding up the datapad.

Yes, I would like a medic. The writing was rushed - his father could speak faster than Luke could write - but it was legible enough. Thankfully Kix took Luke’s side.

“Very well sir. I will send somebody to assist you.” With that, the medic left.

His father turned back to him. “Would you like access to the holonet, young one? It will be restricted, of course - you wouldn’t be able to contact any Rebels - but you would be able to watch videos.”

Kriff, he really was stuck here with his father for at least the next two weeks, wasn’t he? Couldn’t even eat real food.

He was already exhausted of it all.

Yes, Luke wrote. He handed the datapad to Vader.

At least he’d have plenty of time to hack into the datapad and find a way to contact his friends.

----------

Luke’s mouth finally stopped bleeding by the end of the day. He was so grateful to be rid of the gauze in his mouth that he almost didn’t mind the fact that his father had stayed after the medic left.

He tipped his head back and carefully drank some water, reveling in the fact that he could close his mouth almost all the way now. It was still partially numb, but most of the feeling was back and there was nothing holding it open anymore. He set the cup back down next to the pill bottles on the bedside table, then looked between his father next to the bed and the datapad on the blankets.

He’d wasted the day dozing and watching as many pod, speeder, and spaceship races as he could find, but Vader had stayed away for most of it, only seeming to come in as Luke was falling asleep. What...was he supposed to do now that the man seemed determined to stay?

He stared at his father for a long moment. Vader stared back.

Slowly, as if his father was a watching krayt, he grabbed the datapad and turned the latest speeder race back on, sinking into the fresh ice packs and pillows.

They watched it together, side by side.

[sleeping-lilies]

Title: I Get Tim a Cat Because It’s What He Deserves (oh and i guess a group chat 🙄)

a batfam/wayne family groupchat would literally never happen in canon but it would be so fucking funny you all don’t even know, so i will do it anyways.

the chat just kinda... starts. no one know where it came from. who added them. who??? none of their emotionally stunted asses would be caught dead making making a family chat tf? why can’t any of them leave? they smash their phones and then on their laptop a notification pops up like “you’ve joined ‘x’ group” and they’re stuck there. might as well use it ig, but for what???

“everyone who is alive type ‘i’” no one responds so bruce spends hours trying to find out where their bodies are until he finds out everyone just had the chat on mute

“why isn’t alfred on here” “huh. alfred isn’t on here and no one knows who made the chat?” “so whoever made it just left immediately?” “...” “lol anyways”

tim was trying to send a snap to the core four gc but accidentally sent it to the family chat and gets super embarrassed (of course this happens when everyone’s online why wouldn’t they if it makes tim’s life more difficult) and everyone makes fun of him. duke printed out copies and plastered them all over tim’s apartment while tim was out for something and tim nearly murders duke. after that no one puts the chat on mute because this was too funny.

no one actually, like, texts on a regular basis because they’re not like other families 🙄 they only text if it’s really important or someone’s dying.

that’s being said, “dick where is dog” “send doggy” “dog?” “send doggy” “dick when did you get a dog?” “SEND DOGGY” “i demand you send the dog this instant” “dog now.”

damian breaks into dick’s apartment to take a selfie with him and haley (or bitewing, haley is just shorter to type) captioned “she is mine this is a warning to all of you. i will not hesitate if any of you low lives come near her.” and dick is like “??? this is my dog i can’t have anything these days, siblings take everything, man—” oh ya, everyone reacts to the haley photo with a heart. also dick only lets this shit slide with damian, if jason the problem child pulled this shit it would be on sight lmfaooo

- tim: the dog is cute but, but in photography i learned you have to crop out everything unimportant, like this *crops out damian from the photo*

- in other news, tim joined the dead bats club and now only bruce and duke are left 😃🔪

bruce: check in if you are alive. *everyone’s status is online*

u don’t know about y’all, but my bruce wayne is a responsible father who keeps an eye on his kids, or at least does his best, “has anyone seen duke? he has school and i can’t find him” “i will find him... if you give me $50.” “i will give you the money jason just tell me where he is” jason sends a photo of himself and duke laying down on the floor eating pop tarts.

-“literally why do you all keep coming into my apartment” “our apartment, dick” “i pay for this apartment it’s mine, i keep living in blüdhaven for a reason, god, siblings always steal everything that’s your’s—” it’s ok guys dick simultaneously has eldest daughter’s syndrome and absent sibling syndrome, who is doing it like him? legend behavior. anyways, duke and jason left crumbs on the floor and dick beat them up lmao.

“can i have money” “dad” (theyre sent by same person just different text) “yes cass i will sent you as much as you need, $2,000 is enough for shipping with friends?” “dad can i have money too” “dad can i too” “may i have some too dad” “dad” “dad” fhdjdjsks they only call him dad when they’re dying, want something, or are tattling on each other, someone save him 😩

“@everyone the interviewer in the last segment asked me if we have a family chat and i have a feeling they will try to pry into my texts to see what we are texting, please actually send something so they don’t get even more nosy from our lack of communicating” *someone sends the bee movie script*

ok but like, as time goes on they get more comfy texting each other and acting like a normal(ish) family unit that texts a little more. like tattling.

“someone broke the vase in the hallway and if they don’t want me to tell pennyworth who did it they will buy alfred the cat a new scratching post by nightfall” damian is so funny i love him

“HELPPVHRNXKAK” “what’s up with jason?” “cass is sitting on him” “lol” “i think she’s gonna break his arm fhdjdksk” “ANDBSJ I HAT E YO U A LL” “when did you all come to the manor???”

“😂” bruce vs “lol” dick and cass vs “agdhsjak” tim and duke vs “hA” jason vs “i don’t find any of you funny” damian

“damian i am putting your lemon cake pop thingies in the last bottom shelf on the right, i put the code and everything in the safe” “how often does damian even come to your apartment, dick?” “whenever you’re being an asshole bruce” “he’s always an asshole dickhead 🙄” “exactly 🥰”

“dad guess what” “TIM NOOO” “remember when” “TIM TIM TIM” “you told duke to take the day shift” “I WILL NEVER POST YOUR SNAP PHOTOS TO A GROUPCHAT WITH THE ENTIRE SUPERHERO COMMUNITY AGAIN!!!” “and he agreed to if he did his school work first?” “MERCY, MERCY” “what did he do, tim” “fjdjxkskkz duke goes on school zoom meetings during patrol and pretends he doesn’t have a mic and camera and i was watching his helmet footage and it was so funny, the teachers just believe him when he pretends to have really bad network and can barely type in the chat” “my teachers never trusted me that much” “that’s because you made a kid cry once jason stfu” “wait how did u know that cass—“

“AHDBSNZKAJHF” “stfu duke” “what’s wrong with him where is he?” “cain came to visit” “ohhhh” “FHDJFJDJ HELLPPPXSND” “i know you’re taking a video, you little shit, send it” “no todd come here and take one yourself—or don’t, your presence is unwanted” “fucking brat”

“DAD DICK HIT ME” “DAD JASON’S LYING” *bruce wayne online* (he doesn’t fucking respond fhsjskla) (is it because he’s exasperated with them or crying because they called him dad even though it’s a manipulation tactic or both we’ll never know)

“everyone who is alive, type in chat” *everyone is online* then bruce edits the message to say ‘everyone who wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, type in chat’ “i guess NO ONE wants alfred’s cinnamon rolls, how sad” and the entire chat goes wild lmfao

ok uhhh let’s do on a scale of 1-10 texts most vs is online the most

bruce: 6-texting, 5.9-online because he always makes an effort to text his kids to check up on them and when his kids are texting he will text as well here and there in the convo to interact with them because he never sees and interacts with them normally and he wants to do better 🥲. he get’s minus 0.1 because of that one time jason and dick were fighting and he logged off agdhsjnz

dick: 3-texting, 3.5-online because he’s the only one in this hellhole of a family that has an actual job (in this house we uphold gymnastics teacher grayson 🙏) and sometimes he won’t have energy to text. so. but he does make an effort when he can. he’s online more than he texts because he’s able to sneak looks at the fights when he has downtime during his job and wants to see the drama lmfaooo. also everything goes on in his fucking apartment for some reason, so now he gotta break up a (one sided) fight between cass and tim because someone has to be a responsible adult.

cass: 2-texting, 10-online because she watches more than she texts? she’s more content to watch what’s going on than to join in. also 8/10 she’s usually the one causing the drama that everyone’s texting about, like beating up the others, so she can’t text while beating them up. i mean she could, but she wants to put more energy in beating them up (lovingly) (cass is basically violence (loving)) and watching what everyone’s saying about her fights. she’s always online to catch a glimpse at the drama. also most of her texts are to dick to see bitewing. and ask for money.

jason: texting-8, online-4 because if cass is the one causing drama offline, jason’s causing drama online. jason wants to be chat cryptic but texts the most lmfaoooo. he’s antagonizing his siblings whenever he sees them and whenever he can’t, king shit. he’s online less because he deadass doesn’t care that much, he’ll read the texts later if he really wants to, otherwise either duke or tim will fill him in on the drama. (“jason ur in the chat too—“ “shut up, tim, now tell me how cass beat damian’s ass)

tim: texting-6.44444, online-10, see tim texts a lot just not to the family group chat lmfao, he has REAL FRIENDS 😤 uhh ya, that’s why he’s online all the time, cuz he’s either texting his friends or on his phone doing some shit. broke: tim stays up late working on cases, woke: tim stays up late texting his friends and playing video games over chat. tim just. interacts with his family, gets bullied by them, ya. that’s the life. also he and duke keep throwing hands because it’s the family curse to beat up tim and in this essay i will discuss how dick is the superior sibling because he never tried to kill tim—wait he probably pushed him down the stairs once nvm but it was totally justified, king

duke: texting-4, online-4 because he has, like, school. and daytime patrol. and is like a junior in high school and therefore has a fuck ton of homework. my boy has no time for family and he doesn’t want it because they’re annoying, obviously 🙄. if he wants drama he’ll go into damian’s room and get the drama. diy icon. he’s online as much as he texts but is so fast of a reader he’ll know the drama in time for the next episode of wayne family shit. most of his time online is picking fights with tim and roasting his siblings to a crisp. he’s so mean, guys, legend has it that one time duke told jason that his helmet looked like a shriveled up dildo and that it could never be the gay statement he wanted it to be jason went offline for that entire day in order to cry himself to sleep. at least he got sleep (allegedly) ayyy duke the problem solver.

damian: texting-1.5, online 2 because the only time he’s texting is to ask dick for photos of bitewing and to send photos of his pets back as proper payment. a negotiator ugghhh father like son. damian honestly doesn’t care about the drama he just wants to sketch bitewing (using the photos dick sent as reference) into the Family Portrait Sketch™️ of the rest of the Animal Family™️. it is an honor for damian to create such a piece, picasso the women hater quakes in his grave as such art that blows his dog shit “art” FAR out of the water is developing. anyways, he goes online for that and to throw random barbs at his siblings. like no one is online and damian just throws a “drake is stupid” in chat and just dips. he’s online more to text the other teen titans and jon because they’re better than his dumbass family (and he texts grayson on messenger so fhdjdjsks) true chat cryptic, jason envies him

alfred: 0-texting, 10-online. huh who said that

“duke take down the tik toks, tim is crying”

“who has my sweatshirt??? i will kill you all” “i have it jason” “nvm cass that’s your sweatshirt now i’m sorry for being presumptuous don’t aTTACK ME” fhdjdjsks

“guys i have the day off do you want to hear when delilah said to jonathon it’s so funny” “are those the kids in your gymnastics class?” “ya” “tell us everything”

the bats just... love hearing drama about those kids because they’re so dramatic. apparently alex threw a rubber ball at maya and she tackled them. wild.

time for a round of: WHO SAID IT?!?!

“how do i make my text bold like the rest of you?” —bruce, dick, cass, and jason at some point.

“how do i change my screen name? please change it back to before” -cass when tim changed her name to “hal jordon #1 stan” (“what is a stan” —bruce), (“i don’t like it either change it back” —bruce after finding out what a stan is)

“what the fuck is a pog” —jason

“fucking ‘tik tok’. we used to use vine when i was a teen. i was a front line soldier of great disasters” —dick on one hand lmfao dick is so old but on the other hand holy shit you used vine??? tell us more about the battles fought

“what is a dilf?” —bruce after scrolling through twitter

ok that’s all, my brain is gone.

“cass dick is turning purple get off him” “no. make him give me my scarf back.” “oh dad that’s terrible can you send a video as evidence?”

“GUYS I FOUND A CAT AND IT SCRATCHED ME AND IM GOING TO THE HOSPITAL BUT GUYS!!! CAT!!!” “drake send a photo of the cat immediately” lmfao bruce zooms to the hospital after that text

“GUYS THE CAT HAS AN OWNER I CANT KEEP THE CAT 🥲” “the one time you could prove to be of use and you fail, drake.” “wow tim, find a cat to steal without an owner next time” “timmy, timmy, timmy, i can’t believe you’ve messed up in finding a cat again” “again?” “again?” “again?” “when i adopt a cat i’m not showing any of you, i hate you all” (lmao hard version of guess who is who i’ll give you a hint dick cass and bruce are the confused ones. )ok it’s not hard anymore.

“dad please get me a cat 😳🐱 haha jk 🤣😩 unless 👀😏😃🙏🥰” anyways tim named the cat starry because of her fur-hair-thingy

“they just so you all know steph just crashed in my apartment and i have work in the morning” “i will pick her up in the morning” “you mean tim will, you don’t have a license, cass. anyways”

“dick do you need help moving?” “no, bruce, i think i can handle it, donna and wally are helping me anyways, but thank you” “mOVING???” “OUT OF YOUR APARTMENT???” “DICK THAT SAME APARTMENT ON 666 HELLHOLE AVENUE???” “...ya?” “NOOOOO” anyways they all break into dick’s new apartment when he moves in, walk around it, and then leave. they just... ya... damn, these bats...

anyways that’s all. see ya.

[everybodyscupoftea]

under the mistletoe

ole miss rafe x reader

the beginning of your relationship with some misunderstandings along the way (ft. the first kiss)

yes i will continue to use the same gif of this man :)

(warnings: cursing, drinking, light editing)

Rafe texted you for the first time about a date the weekend after the Egg Bowl. You weren’t overly enthused at the prospect, he’d been a huge dick, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

Dinner and a movie.

It wasn’t even a question. It was a demand, like he knew you’d say yes so there was no point in actually asking. To be fair you did plan on saying yes, but he didn’t need to know that. So, after 30 minutes, you had to make him sweat it out, you responded.

First of all, you should ask. Demanding is not the way to get a date. Second of all, if you think I’m voluntarily stepping foot in Oxford for a boy, you’re sorely mistaken.

Rafe responded almost immediately which made you feel a bit vindicated.

You’re right. I’m sorry. Meet in Jackson?

Which you could absolutely do. The two of you made plans for the following weekend to meet at the Cultivation Food Hall, and then you wanted to check out a science museum they had there. It was the inner vet major in you. And shockingly, Rafe agreed without much of a fight.

Of course it was almost too much to ask. What more could you expect from an Oxford frat douche bag, really there was no one to blame but yourself. The science museum was maybe a little bit childish, but you thoroughly enjoyed it while Rafe made it very clear he was bored.

You weren’t entirely sure what his major was, but clearly it wasn’t very sciency. There were easy hikes which cheered him up a bit, so you were glad for that, but when the two of you got in your cars to go your separate ways, you expected that to be the end.

It wasn’t, and he texted you again.

Did you make it back okay?

And when you didn’t answer, ready to leave him on read despite the warm feeling in your chest, he texted again.

I hope you had fun, I did. Can I see you again?

You walked over to your roommate’s room and dropped onto her bed with a loud, dramatic groan. She looked up from her desk where she was reading for one of her classes with an amused look, “Something wrong?”

“Rafe texted me,” you told her. She’d heard all about the date, you called her on the drive home so she had Thai takeout waiting for you when you got there, so she understood for the most part.

“And? Leave him on read if he made you that miserable today that you had to eat your weight in Thai food.” 

“But, part of me wants to text him back. Like a big part of me. I don’t- explain to me.” 

She snorted, “You’ve always liked toxic men.” 

Your jaw dropped, but you couldn’t really argue with her there. There was nothing but the truth in her words, “Um, you didn’t have to come for me like that.”

“You needed honesty. I know you’re going to text him back, so what do you plan on saying?” 

“What should I say?”

“I don’t know. I barely met him. Have your texts been super flirty?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want them to be?”

And that you had to think about. Did you really want to pursue things with this guy when you were both about to graduate in a semester. 

“Maybe, I don’t know. I mean it might not go anywhere or get, like, super serious.”

She made a face, “But is that the guy you really want to pass the time with? Like you could definitely meet a nice boy here.” 

You scoffed, “I’ve been here for three and a half years and haven’t managed that. May as well go for a hotty toddy.” 

She sighed and gave you an amused look, “I’m a little embarrassed for you. This should be against everything you stand for.”

“It is,” you told her, slightly ashamed, “but he’s also cute.” 

“Like I said, toxic men as long as they come in a pretty package.”

So, after a few hours you texted him back.

Yeah I made it, thanks. I’d like that. Maybe we can catch that movie. But no way in hell I’m going to Oxford.

His response was a little delayed, which you didn’t expect one back that night anyway, you sent it late. But just as you were almost asleep, your phone buzzed.

Fair enough. But don’t expect me to show up in Starkville anyway

-

Some people in your major were throwing a Christmas party a week before Christmas, and you really were debating going. Most of them had significant others and you knew it would be pretty painful being one of the only singles drinking alone.

“So bring Rafe,” your roommate suggested when you were yet again laying on her bed to complain.

You sat up fast, head spinning a bit, “I can’t just ask him. We haven’t even been seeing each other that long. Like he hasn’t even kissed me or anything. No relationship definition at all.” 

She joined you on the bed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but you actually really like this guy, right?” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I’m such a hypocrite, but I really do.”

“Then ask him. You said the dates were getting better with each one. You’ve seen him every weekend for a month and some weeknights since you don’t have Friday classes.” 

“What if he says no,” you whispered, “I think that’s why I’m most worried. It’ll really really hurt if he says no.”

She bit her lip, thinking, “Okay, if he asked you to be his date at some event in Oxford, would you go?”

You answered without hesitation, “I would.” 

“Then ask. If he says no, I’ll go as your date and we’ll drink and have fun. But all you can assume is that he likes you as much as you like him, and he’ll say yes.” 

“You’re right,” you admitted, standing from her bed, resolved, “I’m going to ask him.” 

Hey Cameron, got a minute?

He answered quickly.

Sure, what’s up?

So you called him, and he answered on the second ring. Deep down you were very pleased about that.

“Hey,” he answered, “something wrong?”

“Not really, I just had a question for you.” 

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve done it over text so if he did reject you, it wouldn’t be where he could actually hear your response. But the reasoning you called is so that if you got a no it wouldn’t be in a text where you could reread and over analyze that night.

“Fire away,” he cut off your spiral.

You sighed, “Okay so a few people in my major that I’ve done group projects with before are throwing a Christmas party. We all get plus ones, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

He hummed, “What’s the date?”

“Um, I think December 18th. If you’re going home before then, that’s totally fine. I just wanted to ask.”

“You’re willing to bring a hotty toddy to a bulldog Christmas party,” he teased, “I’m honored.”

You snorted, “Unfortunately, I am. If you want to at least, please don’t feel pressured.”

“I don’t. And I’m not going home for Christmas. I haven’t since freshman year. The reason I asked was because some of the guys in my pledge class are having a get together of our own. We did Secret Santa and it’s on the 21st so I didn’t want to miss it.”

“Oh,” you paused, “so you’ll come with me?”

“Of course,” his voice was soft, “you sound surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up, “I mean, I was kind of expecting you to say no.”

Rafe went silent, you could almost hear the gears in his head spinning as he tried to come up with a response. You were about to ask if he was okay before he responded, “You know that I like spending time with you, right?”

You tried to play your anxiety off, “I mean, I’d hope so the amount of weekends we’ve spent together so far.” 

“Good. So then why do you think I’d say no?” 

“I don’t know,” you chewed on your lip, “I guess we just haven’t really talked about what this is and I wasn’t sure where you are or how you feel.”

He hummed, “Okay, I understand. I’m sorry for not communicating better.” 

“It’s okay, I should’ve done better too.”

“Well, now that we’re on the same page. Tell me exactly when the party is and I’ll be there.” 

You hesitated, “Do you want to come the night before and stay?”

His voice was warm, when he answered, “Absolutely.”

-

“Thank god,” your roommate had said when you told her, “now I can go home early.”

Her partner was from her hometown, and they didn’t get to see each other often. She’d come to visit a few times since you and your roommate had lived together, so you had at least met her before.

“Tell her I said hey. Do you need a ride to the airport?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I need to pick up dessert for the party anyway, so I’ll drive you to Jackson and go to Target there.”

The two of you woke up at 3 a.m. to get her to the airport by 5:30. She talked a little about her Christmas plans and then the two of you rode mostly in silence. It was kind of calming, despite being super tired.

Before she got out of the car, your roommate pulled something out of her backpack and held it out to you. You took it, frown on your face, “Is this mistletoe?” 

“It is. You said Rafe hadn’t kissed you yet, put this to use.”

You shook your head, huffing out a laugh, “I don’t know about that one.”

“He’ll be at the apartment all weekend, just hang it up in the kitchen or like in the hallway leading to your room.”

“It seems cheesy.”

“It is, but that’s what makes it fun,” she insisted.

Taking the mistletoe, you set it in the cupholder, “Fine. I’ll think about it.” 

She nodded, pleased enough, “Thank you.”

-

You didn’t hang the mistletoe up, but to be fair you got totally distracted by stress cleaning and baking the desserts for the party you decided to make from scratch instead of buying store bought.

Rafe wasn’t supposed to show up until that night, but there was a knock at your apartment door at 2:30, startling you. He was smiling sheepishly on the other side, “I know I’m early, but I didn’t see any point in waiting longer.”

Grinning, you stepped aside to let him in. He looked around, taking in the decorations you and your roommate set up the day after Thanksgiving. You pointed toward the hallway your room was down, “If you want to set your stuff down, my room is at the end of that hall.” 

“Thanks,” he answered, bending down to kiss you on the cheeks, something he’d been doing since date three.

Walking back to the kitchen you immediately picked the stress baking back up where you’d left it to answer the door. Rafe was gone for a while, using the bathroom you assumed, and when he came back, he was changed, and you couldn’t help but stare.

“What?” he asked, a weird look on his face.

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen you out of like jeans or slacks.” 

He glanced down at himself, sweatshirt with his frat letters on them and grey sweatpants, before looking up at you, “I figured since we were staying in I could get comfy.” 

“Yeah definitely,” you reassured, “I like it, just was surprised, that’s all.”

“You like it, huh?” he teased and stepped fully into the kitchen, wrapping one arm around your shoulders, “That’s noted.”

-

Rafe did dress back up for the party, which you were expecting. Jeans and a nice sweater. You smiled at him and tugged gently at the sweater, “This is cute.”

“Bought it just for the party. It’s even maroon, see?” 

“I do see. Didn’t know if it was a coincidence or not.”

“Nope, fully intentional.” 

It felt like a good time to kiss him, mistletoe or not, but before you got up the courage, he was stepping away to grab one of the desserts off the counter. You sighed internally and grabbed the other with the hand not holding your keys.

“Alright, I’m parked in the back lot, opposite direction of visitor parking.”

“Cool, after you.”

Sitting in the car, you plugged your phone into the aux. Rafe buckled up and got comfy in the passenger’s seat. You smiled at him, it felt natural for him to be invading your space the way he was. But he was giving you a bit of a complex with the whole not interested in kissing thing.

He glanced down at the cupholder and did a double take. You cursed yourself for forgetting to take the mistletoe out of your car when he asked, “Is that mistletoe.”

“Um, yep.”

“Why do you have it?”

“I meant to give it to my roommate when she flew out, but it was so early it totally slipped my mind,” you lied smoothly.

Rafe nodded, totally believing it, and you sighed. Maybe you should bring it in, hang it up when he’s in the shower or something. But deep down you knew you wouldn’t. You didn’t want Rafe to kiss you out of obligation for some stupid tradition. You wanted him to mean it.

The drive went by quickly, the boy hosting lived at an apartment complex just up the road, and you found parking easily, recognizing a few cars in the visitors' spaces meaning you weren’t the first ones to show up. 

Rafe got out and took in all the MSU merch hanging from balconies and on cars with a grimace, “Y’all have almost too much spirit.”

“We aren’t snobby enough to think it’s tacky and above us,” you responded, taking a clear shot at Ole Miss.

“Fair enough. It’s just a lot of talk for a school who’s so bad at sports.” 

Your jaw dropped, “I know an Ole Miss football fan isn’t speaking right now. Are you aboard the Lane Train?” you asked, mockingly.

Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head, reaching down to ruffle your hair playfully, “With that record? Absolutely not.”

“And not because  he’s a piece of shit?”

“Well, that too.”

He grabbed both containers in one hand and your hand in the other, lacing your fingers together as you led the two of you to the right building. His palms were sweating a little, and you squeezed gently, “All good?”

“A bit nervous, just don’t want to look stupid in front of your friends.”

“Why would you,” you were confused, unsure how he’d reached that conclusion.

“I mean, you’re all like STEM majors, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And I am not.”

There was so much to unpack there, so you tried to go for a joke, “I mean we aren’t going to just talk about like anatomy and biology all night, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He snorted, “Maybe a little. I just feel out of my depth.”

“I promise, it’s going to be okay. You’re really smart too, just in a different way. But we aren’t really here to show off our intelligence. It’s more to drink and eat and bitch about our professors.”

“See, that’s super specific,” he complained.

“Well, yeah, I guess. But most of us are dating out of our majors, just hop on the bandwagon like they do and you’ll win ‘em over in no time.”

By the time you’d finished reassuring him, the two of you had arrived at his door. You squeezed one last time and he smiled, seeming more at ease. Reaching up to knock, it swung open before you could, a guy named Justin grinning widely, “Welcome welcome to the annual Bitchmas Party.”

Rafe snorted and let you step in first. Justin set his drink down on the table by the door and held his hands out, I’ll take your coats and your keys please.”

Handing them over, he escorted you through the entranceway to the living room, stopping you right as the tile changed to carpet. You squinted at him, “What?”

Wordlessly, he pointed up and you saw mistletoe, your blood running cold. Rafe made a noise and bent down to kiss your cheek, close to the corner of your mouth but not quite.

“Boo,” Justin jeered, “but close enough, come on through.”

Your stomach sank. Again. And Rafe leaned down, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I mean, you could’ve kissed me.” Your words came out a lot sharper than you intended, but before Rafe could question you, Ashton was stepping in to ask the two of you about drinks. Rafe asked for a soda and you got spiked eggnog. May as well to sort through the mess of feelings in your stomach.

Someone spread out the food and everyone lined up to get plates before settling in the assortment of chairs all over the room. You sat on the couch and Rafe sat on the floor, leaned back next to your legs. Justin gave him a weird look and offered a chair, but Rafe declined, saying he was fine.

At some point, he wrapped an arm around your closest leg and leaned his head on your thigh, nodding along to the conversation. You brushed your hand through his hair that you’d convinced him to leave ungelled, and complained about your animal sciences professor who’d made the tests way harder than necessary and not offered bonus opportunities.

Rafe actually interrupted, “Okay wait, she put questions on information not taught in class and not readily available in your textbook?”

“Correct.”

“So how were you supposed to know you were going to be tested on it.”

“You weren’t,” Justin answered him, drily, “That was her whole point. Be prepared for anything.”

“She should’ve just given us papers on those topics.”

“Agreed,” a girl named Emily chipped in, “I would’ve so much preferred that than literally guessing on a test.”

Rafe made a face, “I mean, for my history courses we were expected to do the readings and then like additional research, but she told us the topics beforehand so we’d know what to research.”

Ashton’s girlfriend leaned forward at his words, “You’re a history major?”

“Yeah,” Rafe answered, his grip on your leg tightening.

“Me too,” she looked excited, “what do you want to do?”

He leaned forward eagerly, “I want to teach, European if possible. I haven’t decided if I want to do like Advanced Placement courses in high school or just go get a masters and be a professor. What do you want to do?”

“I want to do research so I’ll definitely be going after a PhD. But I figure at least that way, I’ll be doing something while Ash is in vet school.”

Rafe looked around, “Is everyone here going to vet school?”

Mostly everyone in your group was, so they all nodded, including you. Justin spoke up, “Buncha nerds in this bunch. We all grouped together pretty much since day one since we all had the same plans. We’ve lost a few along the way.”

“Rest in peace Jasmine and Brady,” you added, solemnly.

“Do you all want to stay here?” Rafe asked, clearly curious about everyone’s plans.

A few people around the group nodded, but some shook their heads. Rafe hummed, taking in the information before looking over his shoulder at you. You nodded, “Yeah, I like MSU’s vet school, I want to stay.”

He nodded thoughtfully, “Good to know.”

Justin gave you a weird look and you shrugged, just as confused.

-

Four cups of eggnog later, the party was winding down, and you were happily tipsy. Rafe, still sober, had an arm around your waist to keep you steady. He led you toward the door, passing under the mistletoe again without stopping and you sighed.

Glancing down at you, he made a face, “Clearly something is on your mind.”

“Clearly,” you muttered back sarcastically. He opened the passenger door for you to climb in and you asked, “You know how to get back?”

“It’s just up the road, I don’t think it’s that hard.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just a question, no need to get so offended.”

The ride back was in uncomfortable silence, so unlike the drive there that you were squirming in the passenger seat. Rafe glanced over at a red light, “Are you about to puke?”

Offended, you answered, “No, I can handle my fucking alcohol.”

“Okay,” he muttered, “no need to get defensive.”

You hated how weird it felt between the two of you, but you weren’t sure how to fix it. Unless he just magically decided you were kissable, but you didn’t foresee that happening in the near future, so instead, you pouted.

Rafe parked and turned the car off but stayed seated, so you did too, feeling uneasy. He looked over at you, “What’s up. Why have you been so weird tonight?”

“I haven’t.”

“You have. And I think it actually started yesterday when I got here. Is it just me being in your space? Like am I invading it or something? I can go home tonight if I need to.”

Maybe you weren’t in the ideal state to have this conversation, but you also figured this was probably the state you were most likely to let the honest truth slip.

“No. The problem is you aren’t taking up enough space.”

Which in hindsight didn’t make much sense, you couldn’t blame him for the confused, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you won’t kiss me and I’m not sure why.”

“I-” and for once, for once in your whole goddamn relationship (or whatever you were calling it) Rafe was speechless, “I thought you didn’t want me to.”

Then it was your turn to be shocked, “What? When did I say that?”

“On our first date, you talked about only kissing when it got serious.”

“Yes.”

“And when I brought up the Christmas party in Oxford, you didn’t ask about a plus one. Hell, you still won’t come to Oxford at all.”

“How was I supposed to know I’m supposed to invite myself to a Christmas party with the boys? And sure, I was opposed to Oxford at first, but I think we’ve been seeing each other long enough for me to actually make that trip,” you answered incredulously, startled at all the assumptions he’d jumped to.

He squinted, “You never said.”

“You never said,” you fired back, “I invited you to a party with my friends, I thought that would be hint enough that I think this is serious.”

“I need it outright said,” he mumbled.

“Clearly.”

“Hey,” he protested, “it’s not just me. In fact, you never brought it up either.”

“Okay, Cameron, to be fair, you never brought up anything about that party other than that it was Secret Santa for some guys in your pledge class. Not only do I not want to be the only girl there, I especially don’t want to be an MSU girl there with a bunch of drunk Ole Miss frat boys.” 

Rafe snorted, “Fair, that’s totally fair. So, I guess I should ask, do you want to come? There will be girlfriends and boyfriends. Secret Santa is just a small part.”

“Sure, I need to come see your apartment anyway, I should know what I’m getting into.”

He laughed loudly, “I’m not sure if I’m okay with that.”

You poked him teasingly, “Hey, you can’t take it back now, buddy.”

“I’d never.”

And with that, he got out of the car. You felt significantly better as he jogged around to grab the door for you. His arm went around your shoulders immediately, and you weren’t sure if it was an attempt to keep you standing straight or not.

“I’m not that drunk,” you told him.

He raised his eyebrows, “Okay four cups. I could smell the booze in that eggnog, it was strong.”

“Well you hurt my feelings, what else was I supposed to do besides drink?”

Rafe snorted, “Talk to me.”

“In front of everyone? At a party?”

“Bathroom.”

“So Justin could think we were hooking up in his bathroom.”

He squinted at you a few seconds, “Okay so it wasn’t the most conducive situation for a serious talk.” 

“Mhmm.” 

The two of you climbed the stairs to your third floor apartment. Rafe behind you so you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself. He was a little offended when you muttered that you’d just take him down with you, “I could definitely catch you.” 

“Okay buddy,” you patted his shoulder. 

He made you drink four glasses of water in the kitchen and by the time the two of you were walking to the bathroom to get ready for bed, you were significantly sobered up. You tried to get to the sink first and Rafe playfully hip checked you out of the way to get his toothbrush.

“Nooo,” you complained, “my skincare routine is so much longer than yours, you can wait.”

“Guests first,” he argued, successfully keeping you away from the sink.

You gave up pushing against him to pout, “At least pass me my makeup remover.”

“Fine,” he grabbed the bottle from the sink and passed it over, “I guess you can at least start.” 

“Oh thanks for your permission,” you responded sarcastically.

The next five minutes of him washing his face and getting ready, you kept trying to nudge him out of the way, but he wasn’t budging. Finally, you dug your fingers into his side and he yelped, twisting away enough for you to get some space in front of the mirror.

Your eyes lit up, “Are you ticklish?”

“No,” he denied, just a little too fast.

“Liar.”

You reached out to him again and he grabbed your hand pulling you into his chest. So caught off guard, you didn’t register him tilting your chin up or lowering his head to kiss you. And then his lips were on yours for the first time, and you made a noise, leaning into it.

He smiled and you could feel his heart racing where your hand was pressed against his chest. In the proximity, you couldn’t help but dig your fingers into his side again. He jerked away, joking glare on his face, “Watch it, mamas. I’ll make you pay for it.”

“Promise?” you teased, finally catching him off guard enough to get mirror space.

Rafe stepped over to sit on the closed toilet lid to wait his turn again and laughed. You turned to look at him, mid-washing your face, and gave him a questioning look.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the squashed mistletoe, “Guess I don’t need this.”

“You were going to use the mistletoe to kiss me?”

“I figured if your roommate wasn’t going to use it, we could.”

“Oh I lied,” you admitted, turning back to rinse your face.

“What?” he asked while you were drying.

You nodded, “She gave it to me to get you to kiss me.”

“Oh,” he perked up, “well I guess it kinda worked. Make sure to thank her for me.”

“No, absolutely not,” you insisted, “she does not need that ego boost.”

He laughed, holding his hands up, “Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

“As we should always.”

He laughed again and hip checked you over toward the wall so he could get back closer to the sink. You couldn’t help but think to yourself that you could get used to this.

~

day 3 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: mistletoe

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #11

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

[AO3]

*edited so the images are better

"... At least until we can get you to your room. You need to wake up before they ring the bell."

'What's goin' on..?' Why was my shoulder shaking?

"Is Mori okay?”

The sound of my nickname snapped me into consciousness. I pushed myself up and hummed in question. When I opened my eyes it took me a moment to adjust to the bright light. Everyone was standing in front of a gate.

"Did you sleep well?"

Why did this world have three suns? Wait. Two were Sinbad's eyes. That checks out.

I nodded with another hum. I wasn't able to form words yet, and even if I could I would have lost access from waking up to such a beautiful sight.

I missed his response since I was still half asleep, but I did hear Ja'far repeating his words from earlier.

"Please, try to stay awake for a little while. When we step through, they will ring the bell to announce Sin's arrival home. We didn't want you waking up from the shock."

I had to repeat his words in my mind to hold onto them.

"Oh. Thank you for waking me."

Even with their best efforts I didn't have enough time to get clear headed before the bell was rang to announce the return of the King. I ended up jolting anyway.

I was glad to still be on Aladdin's flying turban. I couldn't focus if my life depended on it. I had some energy since I had just been resting and I was still mostly numb from sleep so my aches and pains weren't affecting me yet. After being sick for so long, I was in serious need of serotonin, so I couldn't shake the waves of excitement building in me as I realized I really was in Sinbad's Palace. It's one thing to read about something and another to actually experience it. I knew I had said I would see a doctor as soon as I arrived, but I couldn't stop myself from going into full geek mode and just wanting to look around.

In other words, I was a weak, energetic, space cadet without a filter -prime condition to make an idiot and/or nuisance of myself- if I couldn't find something to force me to "sober" up and start masking.

---

~POV Sin~

Horns announced the King's return to his Palace as the group walked through its gate. Many of the guards and civil servants present gave their welcome. The looks of awe on his guests' faces as they walked through the entrance to the court yard boosted Sinbad's already large ego.

Alibaba's and Aladdin's excitement had started to wane after walking so long, but Mori had the same look she wore when she first got on the ship. Now that Sinbad had seen her like that before, he knew better than to try to engage her in something she wasn't already thinking about. It was a lot like dealing with Yamuraiha after the magicians made a breakthrough. But that didn't mean he wouldn't still try to tease her if he had the opportunity; he'd just have to try a different method.

It was a bit of a relief to see Mori so energetic after the previous night. He would still have the doctors sent to her asap though.

Given how important his guests were, Sinbad decided to escort them, himself, to the Green Sagittarius Tower. Placing the 3 kids in the guest tower was a given since they hadn't agreed to any partnerships yet. The Purple Leo Tower was where Sinbad and his most trusted lived; as much as he wanted to move Mori in there with them immediately, Sinbad knew it would be better to wait until the others learned to trust her, so his Prophet was going to have to stay in the Green Sagittarius Tower for now. This would also give them more time to prepare her permanent room.

Ja'far raised his voice slightly to get all of the guests' attention as he explained a little about the Tower. Masrur took his cue to leave. The Fanalis raised his hand in a half hearted wave as he turned away from the group and started to walk away. The King watched one General leave as he heard the other lead his guests into the Tower.

It was his time to head off too. The rest of his Generals that had been left at home would be showing up to greet him -there was a lot to catch up on. As Sinbad had started to leave, the waves encouraged him to look back at the guest tower. Mori was standing watching him instead of following Ja'far. She had her bag in her arms instead of on her back.

"Is something wrong?"

"I know I should go rest and wait for a doctor, but," she looked at him with an odd expression -like she was seeing through him, "the waves keep pointing me that way." She pointed at the direction he was going.

She was right. The waves would have her follow him

instead of Ja'far.

"It's Drakon!" Mori gasped and her eyes grew. She gave a small laugh to herself. "The first Household Member is the first to show up."

Sure enough, the only member of Sinbad's Household that had fully assimilated with his Djinn's power had entered the court yard.

If she had this much energy and the waves wanted her out here then it should be fine. "Would you like to meet him now?"

Mori looked up at him shocked and expectant. "Is that okay???” It was like he was the center of her world in that moment.

"As long as you feel up to it." This was a good feeling.

She squeezed her bag in her arms. Mori seemed to become like a clingy child when she was unwell. If he had told her to go rest would she have begged him to stay and clung to him like she had before?

Her eyes grew determined. "I will have energy for about an hour. I'll go rest when I start to wear out, and I will ask for help if I need it -you don't have to remind me." Was she this direct because she was sick?

Drakon's deep voice came from behind Sinbad. "Welcome home, my friend."

The King turned to face his General. "It's good to be back."

"How did things end in Balbadd? When we heard about you loosing your metal vessels we got a little worried but it looks like you got them back." He laughed at the end. Drakon knew better than most that his King always manages to come out on top no matter what happens to him. He stiffened slightly. "Hmm? Who's this?” The General noticed Mori before Sinbad had a chance to answer his other questions.

Time for introductions then. "Drakon, this is Mori. She's the prophet I told Yam about." The King gestured towards her.

Mori put her bag down and when she stood up she had full composure. She offered a hand to the General. "It's an honor to meet you, Drakon. I read all about you when I read Fate." If Sinbad didn't know any better he would have no idea Mori had nearly died of fever only a few hours ago -she only looked tired. She was much better at acting than he expected. How long could she hide it though?

Drakon looked more dragon than man now making most uneasy around him, yet Mori didn't seem scared of him at all. Was it because she was hiding it or because she had read Fate? Actually, there was a strange glint in her eyes he couldn't place.

"Oh?” Drakon took her up on the handshake she offered. It was rare for someone not to flinch upon seeing him for the first time; Mori was definitely making a good first impression. "I must admit that I'm curious about this ability of yours."

The glint in Mori's eye grew into a full sparkle.

Their handshake didn't sit right with King Sinbad.

When their hands released, Mori put her hands in her pockets like she often did.

"Would you like an example?" Her smile didn't give anything away. "Before you were shipped out to Baal's Dungeon you tried to be noble and charming to Serendine but she responded by talking about how you followed her around 'like a baby duck' when you were little. Then she made you promise not to die." The waves were building around Mori again.

Serendine must have really said that. Drakon might not look human anymore, but Sinbad could still read his friend's expressions plain as day. Drakon was shocked by the first thing she said, and she was only just starting. Mori really was amazing.

"I know! Let me show you what I've got copied down so far" Mori squat down to her bag. She pulled out and opened a scroll, "Yeah. This one." She stood up with the scroll in hand and swayed a bit on the way up -she couldn't hide her condition fully.

Mori stepped between the King and his General, and turned so they were all facing the same direction. She raised the scroll so it would be easier to see. "Honestly, I had some other things to write down before I could start copying down Fate. I didn't start this until getting onto the ship, so please excuse the sloppiness."

Mori's handwriting looked rushed, like she couldn't get all of this out fast enough. Sinbad had barely gotten to start reading before she continued unrolling to reveal a detailed illustration of a family of three.

"That's-!" It was Sinbad and his parents when he was little.

Drakon glanced at his King, "Sin, are those people your parents?"

"Yup." Mori responded without looking up. "He looks a lot like Badrr, doesn't he?"

Back in Balbadd, Mori had said that she had read his life from his birth to his death, but it was different seeing undeniable proof.

She scrolled past more text and past another illustration and didn't stop until she got to a drawing of child Drakon following Serendine just like she had described. Mori continued scrolling through her work, and each image brought on more comments. There was an illustration of Sinbad meeting Yunan which she gratefully skipped past, a few of inside Baal and one from when Sinbad killed the Abare Narwhal in place of-

"Is this one of me? I look so young!!" The Imuchakk towered over all of them.

Mori whipped her head up. "Hinahoho?!" She wobbled from her quick movement. Sinbad placed a hand at her back to steady her; Mori didn't even react to his hand, instead she put all of her weight on it so she could stare up at the man behind them for a moment. That excited smile spread across her face. "Hello! It's nice to meet you. Please call me Mori."

Sinbad had purposefully gestured for Hina to stay quiet when he came up behind them so as not to distract Mori, but this was fine too.

"So this is where you went!" Ja'far came back from getting the three kids settled into their room.

Mori's smile was unwavering as she stood back on her own, unrolled the scroll to the next image and flipped it around for Ja'far to see. "We just got to your entrance. Care to join us?"

"Lady Prophet, I know you slept on your way here, but you were barely able to get off the ship before you had to lay down. Did you forget you're sick??"

Both Generals that had been looking at the scroll murmured questions about Mori's condition while the Prophet said nothing. At least Ja'far's words would have explained who Mori was for Hinahoho.

Ja'far's eyes wandered to the scroll in Mori's hands; his shoulders jolted when he realized what he was looking at. "Is that me??” He stepped closer to get a better look. After studying the image he looked up at the person holding it. "Did you make this?"

"Yes and yes."

The Prophet and the youngest General present watched each other for an opening.

Mori broke their silence. "I will go rest when I finish showing this scroll. We are almost done anyway."

Ja'far sighed. "Fine." He walked up next to Sinbad to join the group. Even if he tried to deny it, he couldn't fully hide his interest. "What is this scroll you've made?"

Mori turned

the scroll back around so the rest were able to see an image of when Ja'far attacked Sinbad in his sleep back when he was still an assassin. "Since I'm Sindria's Prophet now, I am copying down Fate so it will be easier to keep in order than thinking about it. This is just a draft though. After I have everything written down I'll go back and make it better."

That explanation was perfectly timed as two more Generals had join the group from behind -not that Mori seemed to notice.

Next was an image of Hina in a cave being surrounded by insects.

"Hold on. I never told anyone about that."

Mori stopped scrolling at Hinahoho's comment.

"What is this?" Sinbad asked his General.

But it was Mori who answered. "When Hinahoho first entered Valefor's Dungeon he was swarmed by Blooderflies."

"'Blooderflies?'" All six repeated back at her.

"Butterflies that drink blood," she explained confidently. When none of them responded she tensed. Sinbad could see her turn a little pink as she said to herself, "I thought it was a clever name."

"I think it's hilarious!" Pisiti said before breaking into giggles.

Mori jolted, "It's Pisti this time!" and started to look around for the source of the voice. She spotted the Artemyran that was shorter than herself and the man standing behind her. "And Sharkkan!”

Sinbad could see Yamuraiha and Spartos in the distance. As soon as they were all introduced he'd have Mori head to bed -end of the scroll or not; the waves from earlier would be reaching their peak soon and she had almost fell over twice already. Of course, he wouldn't mind catching her again, but he didn't want her pushing herself in her current condition.

The cocky prince had his hands on his hips. "Are you really a Prophet or our biggest fan?"

"Maybe I'm both," Mori answered with a smile. Her face was a little red.

Was she flirting with Sharkkan??

"That so?" Sharkkan smirked and leaned between Drakon and Hinahoho to get a closer look at her. "When they said there was a real prophet I was expecting some old hag, not a cutie like you."

Mori's eyes dilated and she gave a small gasp. Seeing Mori get embarrassed from compliments was something that Sinbad normally enjoyed, but this time it put a bad taste in his mouth. And did Sharkkan have to get so close to her?

Mori clearly agreed since she attempted to step away from the flirtiest of the Eight Generals. She must have forgotten about her own bag though, as she tripped over it and fell backwards right into Sinbad's arms.

Mori didn't try to stand back up at all. She looked up at the King and after a moment she hid her face behind the scroll she was holding. ”I-I am not a klutz!”

"Oh?" Sinbad smiled down at her. This was much better. "Then did you intentionally fall-”

Mori clapped a hand over his mouth. "No! Shut up! I blame you for this!” She pulled the scroll into her chest, but it unrolled anyway. She was doing a poor job of hiding her enjoyment of his teasing.

He laughed into her hand and she went quiet. Her blush started traveling down her neck since her face couldn't contain it all. This was a much stronger reaction than he normally got from her. He was clearly the only one that could pull such cute expressions out of Mori. Sinbad kissed the palm hiding his lips, and when she pulled it back to herself with an "Ah!" he knew he had to tease her more.

"Are you saying you're really swooning for me then, my Beautiful Prophet?"

"I-!" Mori couldn't bring herself to deny it and pulled the scroll back up to her face. She still wasn't trying to stand on her own or leave his arms.

"That's a good atmosphere."

*Whistles*

"You don't think ...?"

"OH MY-!"

See? No one could seduce a woman better than he could.

Mori finally found her rebuttal. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be surrounded by your waves near constantly??"

He hadn't thought about that. Mori's waves were constantly opening new paths for Fate to flow. They have felt advantageous and that they would help him reach his goals. He wanted to keep her close to see what other changes she would make. And of course he had felt that she was going to live out the rest of her life in Sindria. But what did his waves feel like to her?

She looked up at him as angry as she was embarrassed. "I only slipped on the ramp and just now, and-and fell off of the bowsprit last night, because your waves crashed into me!”

That caught him off guard. "You knew it was me last night?"

"YES!" Mori's voice cracked at the end; she was still recovering so all this talking must have been wearing her out. "You're the only one who's waves feel like this." She broke eye as she got to the end.

Mori could identify him from his waves? There were certain people who's waves stood out to him as well -like hers-, but Sinbad was still not used to anyone else being able to feel the waves. This meant that he had kept quiet for nothing. It also meant that Mori had clung to him knowing who he was -maybe she wouldn't have accepted comfort from just anyone.

Her voice was almost inaudible. "When I realized it was you I was relieved. I've gotten hurt in the past when I was sick because I was alone so, ... thank you for taking care of me."

Just like when he had first learned that Mori could feels the waves, he was happy he was already holding her. He wanted to pull her closer like he had last time as well.

Yam let out a gasp while landing.

"WAIT!" Ja'far had been about to cut in to stop their antics anyway, but this was a completely different issue. "Mori, can you feel the waves of Fate like Sin??"

The King and the Prophet both stared at Ja'far for a few moments before answering in unison, "Yes."

((Hey everybody. Pretty sure you can guess why this chapter took so long. I just really wanted to draw so much of this chapter in comic form UwU Also, a bunch of life things got in the way. Now that everything is opening back up I can't work from home anymore. I'm very sensitive to the heat so I have to rest and cool down after each drive which really cuts into the time I have each day. -_-

Ja'far stared in disbelief at his King. "Sin, you knew?? Are you sure?"

With the mood completely ruined Sinbad helped Mori stand up properly. She grabbed his sleeve to keep herself steady and he left his arm around her waist just in case.

All of Sinbad's Generals -sans Masrur who had already left- were watching him. Mori had many abilities that made her extremely valuable, but they also made her a prime target to any of their enemies. The more her value is known the bigger the target on her will be, and Mori wasn't a fighter. Sinbad had already told all of them that Mori was a Prophet since she had already made that skill known to others, and it was something he wanted to use -there was no way he could hide it. His Generals had kept the fact that he could feel the waves a secret this whole time, so they would be able to keep her secret as well.

"Mori can definitely feel the waves of Fate. But you should know it is different from her ability as a prophet." He figured he should clear that up before they asked. Sinbad didn't know how they were different, but he had enough information to know they were.

Mori's voice was a little horse and on the weak side. "Since King Sinbad and Ja'far eavesdropped on my conversation with Aladdin there's no reason to hide it."

The King and his partner in crime froze. SHE KNEW HE HAD SPIED ON HER. Did his waves give him away?

Mori continued, "I can only read the Fates of realities that I am not currently in. It's not the same as different planets; It's a different universe with different rules." She rolled up the scroll while explaining. "The one I came from doesn't have Rukh, magoi, magic, or Djinn, but we did have 1500 to 2000 more years of scientific development compared to this world-" She was cut off by a short coughing fit.

Sinbad looked down at Mori. She was getting worse by the second. It was most likely fever and not embarrassment making her cheeks red in this moment. "It seems I've pushed you too hard while you are still recovering. My apologies." It was time to send the prophet to bed. He pulled at her waist lightly. "Let's get you to your room so you can rest."

Mori shook her head. "I have one more thing I want to say first."

"Fine." If it wasn't for the look in her eyes he would have refused her.

Mori's voice was getting worse so she had to take breaks in her speech. "I don't know what caused me to slip from my reality into this one, but I'm here now ... I fully intend to use my knowledge to help this world... But since I can't read this world's Fates anymore, I don't know how my changes will affect things..." She gripped the scroll like a life line. "As much as I'd like to answer the questions you all must have now... my voice is really starting to hurt, so I'd like to go rest."

Sinbad sighed. "Of course." It was a tough note to leave on, but her health came first. They'd have plenty of time to talk once she was better.

On a side note, I will be drawing Storpas (lol) in the next chapter. Don't worry, I didn't forget him.

It will probably be another 2 weeks or so before I finish the next chapter since I have less time to work on it now.))

[comfy-whumpee]

Whumping Safely 101

Many people in this community have mental health problems, face various types of discrimination, and have complicated relationships with some parts or types of whump. In particular, I aim this at people who care about the experience of survivors and others with triggers – partially because I am an abuse survivor who often flirts with triggering content as part of my love of whump.

Keeping your blog safe is difficult, takes effort, and is never a perfect process. But as the community grows and grows, it’s really important that we hold ourselves to a high standard. I would argue that this is a responsibility of all content creators, but especially those of us in the messy playground of whump.

I’ve got three sections in here: content warnings, writing with care, and community interaction. I’ve tried to make it navigable. It’s about 1.8k words. Shorter than a lot of drabbles! I welcome good-faith criticism on this topic and further questions on my own views.

Content Warnings

The biggest responsibility, in my opinion, is empowering your reader to make their own decision on whether they want to expose themselves to your writing. This also happens to be by far the easiest way to help people whump safely.

What to warn

This is a big and ever-changing topic. Some things you should warn for as a rule of thumb are anything NSFW, pet whump and box boy whump, drugs and alcohol, medical and hospital content, graphic gore, intimate partner violence, and animal harm. It can be tricky to draw the line of what counts – what needs a warning? If you’re in doubt, just warn it anyway. It doesn’t hurt.

If someone requests a trigger be warned for, even if it’s something that feels obscure or tame, show compassion and agree to the request. This is someone who cares enough about being able to read your writing that they wrote in! They want to be able to read it and enjoy it. You’re being complimented.

Otherwise, look at what other blogs tag for. You’ll see some variation in styles and levels of detail, but it’s a good way to gauge what people think is warn-worthy, when we’re often writing stuff that would already be R-rated in mainstream media.

Read Mores

The easiest way to make sure people don’t see your triggering content is to use a cut. Tumblr is not a very functional website and likes to delete cuts, but a cursory check of your posted content will usually tell you whether it’s worked. With asks, cuts are very spotty, so don’t be afraid to post an ask response separately with a screengrab of the original question. People often then respond to the ask itself with a link to the post, especially if it’s a whole drabble. Tumblr is weird and bad so just do your best.

Content notices

I.e., a quick summary before the drabble, usually in bold, to state what will be coming. I like to distinguish between using content notes (CN) and trigger warnings (TW) to indicate severity. Others might use the old phrase ‘dead dove do not eat’ to indicate this is a heavy piece, and often you will see qualifiers like ‘intense’, ‘mild’, ‘mention’, ‘referenced’ (i.e. it is discussed but not actively happening), and ‘implied’ (as the opposite of ‘explicit’). I’ve also seen a couple of people use ‘vibes’, which is a really nice way of demonstrating that it’s there, but not the focus. A quick paragraph like this, or just a line, lets people make a quick risk assessment on their reading.

This is also important if you’re sending in asks or requests to people. If you want to ask about something triggering, send an inquiry first about whether the blog is okay to hear it.

Tagging

Tagging is a chore, but it’s your primary way of warning people about your content. The main benefit of tagging is that you can be as detailed as you want, because can be tagging for content in general, not just triggers.

In a best case scenario, you’d tag the kind of whump you’re doing, tag triggers, tag characters, and even your ‘verses, because tagging is your index for your blog. If you tag reliably, you help your future self and your readers find stuff, and you also make your blog really dang safe. People who have unusual triggers can blacklist tags, and will pick up on your content tags to help them.

Don’t just tag your own writing. Tag your reblogs, tag your prompts, tag your asks. Yes, edit your asks to add the tags. Tag your images and gifs. Tag your images as images and your gifs as gifs.

If you aren’t up for detailed tagging for whatever reason, just tag for triggering content, and add stuff to that list if you’re asked to. My usual technique is to make a mental note of tags while I’m formatting and editing before posting.

Be aware that your first five tags will be used in search results. If you’re using tags that are associated with kink too, such as ‘shibari’, you might want to rethink your tag order if you don’t want interaction from those blogs. Also think about what tags might come up in non-whump contexts, such as ‘collar’ or ‘PTSD’. Some tactics for getting around this I’ve seen are adding ‘whump’ after the content or writing the tags in past tense (i.e., ‘collared’).

It is also a good idea to watch out for when you might be reblogging something whumpy that is intended as kink / porn / fetish, especially in images. Tagging these as spicy / nsfw / kink is a sensible move.

Writing with Care

Okay, now for the harder stuff.

I mean here to lay out some guidelines for how to write in a way that helps your reader build good faith. This is a much more nuanced topic, and it’s different for everyone. There will always be differing opinions on what should and shouldn’t be written about, what a good depiction of a sensitive topic is, and how to discuss that topic. I tried to strip this back into absolute basics that I hope we can all agree on.

Maybe your whump involves abuse. Maybe it’s gaslighting. Maybe it’s severe mental health problems, or addiction, or slavery, or you write about or analogise real-world issues. Whump deals with the dark stuff, and that’s a big part of its appeal. But don’t ever forget you’re writing the dark stuff.

(Try to) Know what you’re doing

Some of us play fast and loose with plots, medical accuracy, worldbuilding, and other things that get in the way of the pain we crave. This is all well and good, but when we start using whump that speaks true to people’s lived experiences, we shouldn’t be careless with it. I’m particularly talking about things that get represented poorly in mainstream media, such as abusive relationships, issues around marginalisation, mental illness and disability.

Be critical of media that you’ve consumed. Think about how its depicted things that you want to depict in turn. Look for opinions on fictional representations of those issues. Be aware that you might be more ignorant of things than you realise.

Look at how others are writing these issues, particularly if they’re writing from a perspective different to yours. If you haven’t personally experienced what you’re writing about, e.g., if you don’t have PTSD and you want to depict a character who does, seek out stuff written from or with experience. Listen to the experts.

If you’re looking for stuff about representation specifically, I recommend this collection of posts about ‘Braving Diversity’ cultivated by Writing With Colour, who are in themselves a fantastic resource for this topic, and have recommendations for other blogs that deal with intersecting issues.

Listen to others

Missteps are inevitable. Nobody is perfect. If constructive criticism is offered, that’s also a compliment to your writing. Someone read your work and thought about it, and thought you’d care about improving it. They’re offering themselves as a resource for helping you see your work in a new light.

Criticism is hard and sometimes hurtful, but even if we don’t think it’s accurate, there’s often a grain of truth in it. If someone tells you that your writing is harmful, think about why they’ve said that, not whether or not they’re correct. This is an opinion! Opinions are subjective! But what drove someone to send that in?

You don’t have to respond to all your criticism and definitely don’t respond straight away. Being respectful to those who are trying to help you means taking the time to consider it properly. Sometimes, they don’t need a response. Others, you might want to learn more about what they think before deciding. You might have already discussed the topic, in which case, you might just want to reblog your previous posts.

If it’s sent in bad faith or is outright hateful, you’re well within your rights to just delete it and move on. You might get the same criticism over and over again, and that’s exhausting, and you don’t have to retrace your steps for everyone.

But if it’s new, even if it puts your hackles up, you can always stop and wonder why someone felt that strongly about your work.

Take a step back

One of my better-known characters is a pet whumper who conditioned his victim to adore and depend on him. It’s not always easy to represent how deeply messed up that is within the text – though I think that’s part of the challenge – but in meta-commentary, I am always describing him as a creeptastic bastard lacking compassion and self-reflection. I hope to always give the reader the confidence that I know just how wrong it is.

This is a really simple thing you can do just to give readers good faith in you. Show that you know what you’re writing is dark and messed up. Show your understanding for the issues you’re handling and that they’re complicated. It might seem self-evident, but when you’re writing the really dark stuff, or unhealthy relationships, or institutionalised whump, you can inadvertently create the impression that you just think it’s fun. The fact that it’s fiction does not automatically absolve you. Show that you care about doing it right.

Community Interaction

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet because I will almost entirely be preaching to the choir here.

Be polite to others. Imagine saying what you’re saying to their face.

Don’t send anon hate. Just don’t. If you can send criticism off anon, do so.

Nobody is obligated to interact with you.

Nobody is obligated to monitor their own reader base.

If someone says do not interact, do not interact.

If someone says do not interact, why they’ve said that is none of your business.

You don’t need to spread the word about someone’s bad politics.

Ask yourself if your input is needed, or if what you’ve said has already been said.

You don’t have to take a side.

Take care of yourself. Take breaks. Remind yourself that whump is a small part of the world.

That’s all from me, folks. Stay safe.

[votederpycausemufins]

alright, i took a break of about 20 hours (less if you don’t count me sleeping) but hey, it was a break at least!

@petrichormeraki

The trip back to the portal left Mumbo shaken up. Dream didn’t follow them which seemed like the last thing he would do. Mumbo was somehow able to get parrot Grian to turn everyone back to normal which was fine. That was just his Watcher powers. Nothing to do with any Vault God powers he may or may not have. And he didn’t have any.

Eventually the portal was back up and running and Mumbo chose to believe that was just because Dream was lying, or again it was just Grian’s Watcher powers. Or maybe even that he was a hermit and the portal had hermit origins.

The smp members tried to question Mumbo, asking what they would do now. Dream was still on the loose and had more power than they realized. Not everyone was willing to go to Hermitcraft and leave everything behind. Right now, Mumbo was really the only person who might have answers, but he just felt bombarded by their words until he finally snapped.

“Look, I have no clue what to do. I didn’t even really want to be here in the first place. Right now Grian, the person I am closest to is stuck like this even though all of you are fine and I just want to help him before I deal with all of this!”

Mumbo winced when he saw the look on Tommy’s face. “So what, just going to abandon us all then? He’s my brother, bitch!”

“I know that and I am sick of having that thrown in my face! It was bad enough when we didn’t know the two of you were related. I wouldn’t have minded if you never showed up so we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!”

Tommy froze, only moving to take a step back in shock. Mumbo looked equally horrified at his own words, and not knowing what else to do, he ran through the portal and went back home.

Mumbo hoped that he could just get some peace by going home, but instead, moments after he returned his communicator started buzzing wildly with messages. With shaking hands he tried to turn it off, but instead managed to drop it and didn’t care enough to pick it back up. He grabbed the rockets from his inventory and equipped his elytra to fly back to his base. 

He just got into the sky when another hermit flew past him, likely to greet him. He tried not to curse as they changed their direction to fly after him, and even though he knew it would hardly do anything, Mumbo started spamming rocket after rocket to get away as fast as he could.

He collapsed onto his bed, finally letting go of Grian who started hopping around. He watched the parrot for a while before pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to keep from crying in frustration. Why did they even have a useless spoon of a hermit in this world?

Grian had completely lost track of how long he had been in this infinite white expanse, but other than the lack of everyone he knew and the occasional having to relive horrific nightmares of memories, it wasn’t all that bad. He had started feeling a little more tired, but he assumed that was more from boredom than anything serious. It was okay since one perk of this place was getting to rewatch the dreams he had just had. 

Not having anyone around was making him feel lonely, so Grian had started to watch the same memories over and over. He memorized his own lines so that way he could talk to his friends and they responded back.

“I still don’t understand why you put Mumbo faces everywhere.” Mumbo seemed to be holding in a laugh.

“It’s a house for you, I had to make it right! Mustaches everywhere!”

“Well I certainly noticed them. Now how about you open the door?” Mumbo gestured to a lever. Grian ignored the tingling feeling that came with intersecting his memory copy as he pulled the lever.

“Oh, well that’s pretty cool.” He echoed as he and his coppy watched the piston door open and he walked in. “But you’ve tainted it with redstone everywhere, look at this! You didn’t even bother covering it up!”

“Wasn’t sure how to go about it and make it look good. Besides, I’m a fan of exposed redstone.”

“Well, we can work on your building skills. What’s this over here?” Grian walked over to the closet and waited for his copy to open it. “AHH! Oh! Oooh. Hah… haha…”

Mumbo started laughing, nearly falling over as his legs became weak from laughing so hard. It no longer scared Grian after watching it so many times, so he just laughed along with Mumbo. “H-How about you go to the study n-next. I-It’s awesome!”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure it is.” Grian tried to stop laughing as he spoke. They reached a sign which he read aloud. “Super Hollywood film set. Oh you’ve redone the whole area, what is this?” Grian watched as he and Mumbo walked around the room. “Super editing suite, activate moving set part two. Part two?”

“There’s more than one, I just labeled them with numbers.”

Grian flicked the lever and watched as cobblestone in front of a bike started to move to imitate a moving foreground. “Oh that’s so cool. That’s so cool!” He flipped the lever for the background. “Oh! It’s for the motor bike!” The copy hopped on the bike and Grian himself found an empty area on the back of the bike to sit. He started making motor noises as the two of them rode the bike, Mumbo flipping another lever nearby. 

Lights came on and Mumbo moved the camera to point at him. “Oh, using your filming knowledge properly I see. Three point lighting system?”

Mumbo nodded, then turned everything off for them to continue. “Let’s continue shall we?”

“Oh, what’s all this?” Grian asked as they came to an area filled with dispensers.

“Well, if you’re going to be filming, you’ll need some costumes.” Mumbo helped Grian into one of the spots and suddenly the builder was covered in gold armor.

“Oh that’s nice. I like that.” As Mumbo tried to go on, Grian doubled back and hit all the buttons, putting all the armor in his inventory. “I’ll just keep that for later. What’s next?”

“Over here. Secret room under the stairs.” Mumbo pulled a lever. The stairs pulled down and Grian was briefly reminded of the shenanigans of the secret base bros. He let himself get distracted by thoughts about that, turning his attention away from the scene. He tried not to listen to his panicked shouts as Mumbo tricked him by closing the entrance behind him.

“Grian, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that would scare you! Mumbo let the copy of Grian out and the real Grian could see how he almost moved for a comforting hug, something he never noticed when this had all first happened.

“I-it’s fine. Just bad memories. C-Can we continue with the house?”

Grian forced himself to stop thinking of the memory, making the white void return. Being with Mumbo that first time was a good memory. Sure there was that one bad part, but for Grian, that was good too. It showed how Mumbo cared for him all the way back then and how they’d learned more about each other over time.

After calming himself down, he started it up again.  “C-Can we continue with the house?”

“Right, let’s go in here next.”

“Wha- MY KITCHEN! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY KITCHEN?!” Mumbo started laughing again.

‘Anyone could do this. Anyone! Xisuma or Scar or Iskall or anyone else.’ Mumbo thought to himself as he was looking over Grian. ‘I’m just better at this because Grian and I are linked or whatever. That’s all. Nothing to do with this being done by a Vault God and me also being one. Because I’m not.’

Multiple hermits had tried to visit Mumbo, but he had shooed them all off. Stress was the one to stay longest, having arrived with the bots who were complaining about not seeing their dads for a while. Mumbo tried to ask them to leave a few times before he snapped at them. He tried to push the hurt expression that was on Jrumbot’s face out of his mind.

He just had a rough few days. He wasn’t sleeping much and was barely keeping himself from starving. But right now Grian was important. More important than him. He might have had this done sooner, but he was being extremely careful, used to dealing with non-organic things most of the time. 

He’s just wondering if he should look up puzzle boxes, wondering if those would be easy enough to rest his mind with, but also not get too off topic when he thinks he’s done it. “G… Grian?”

“Guh Grian?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Do know who am. Know who I am.”

Mumbo started crying in joy. “Oh thank goodness! I was so scared you were stuck like this forever!”

“Tommy...” Grian mimicked his copy, though he was more happy while the copy was more stunned. “How do you know that?”

“What? Blood for the Blood God? My brother says it all the time.” Tommy thought he read Grian’s face well enough. “I’m sorry, I can stop saying it. I know my brother is a bit vio-”

“Techno or Wilbur?”

Tommy paused, he didn’t think he had told Grian their names. “Uh, Techno obviously. I would think if you knew their names you would know he said it. Um, something wrong Big G?”

Grian smiled, his copy continuing to cry. “Tommy… Tommy Tommy… th-they’re my brothers. Oh gods I’m the blood god… that’s what I always called myself. They hated it because I always started causing trouble.”

Tommy looked confused. “What are you talking about? I would think I’d know I had a brother named Grian.”

Grian started to open his mouth, ready to mimic his memory, telling Tommy a name he hadn’t used in ages. But instead he suddenly felt like he was falling. Grian let out a yelp in surprise. When he landed the white expanse was gone, but he realized that was from his eyes being closed. Nervously, Grian opened them and saw Mumbo staring at him, seeming quite large.

“G…” He seemed stunned. “Grian?”

Grian let out a little chirp, realizing that apparently his parrot voice box was the one working right now. “Guh Grian?”

“Do you know who I am?” Of course Grian knew Mumbo. Had he not before? Was that why Mumbo looked so worried.

“Do know who am. Know who I am.” Grian used Mumbo’s words to let the redstoner know that he could remember. He then had to hop back as Mumbo started to cry.

“Oh thank goodness! I was so scared you were stuck like this forever!” Stuck like wha- Grian started to wonder before it hit him. Oh, he couldn’t talk right and Mumbo looked so large because he was currently a parrot. Had something gone wrong when Philza was trying to teach him? Honestly, Grian couldn’t remember what the last thing to happen to him was before he ended up in the white infinity room. He had been in there so long and re-experiencing other memories that the one for when this started was sort of… gone.

Mumbo had apparently spoken a little with Philza because he was able to help Grian back to his humanoid self. The builder held Mumbo’s hands to steady himself as though he didn’t remember it, his muscle memory seemed to have gotten used to being a parrot.

“Well, while I’m sure being a bird has wonderful perks.” Grian paused, giving a yawn, still feeling tired. “I don’t think I really want to do that again for an extremely long time if I can get stuck like that.”

“Grian, how much do you remember?” Mumbo asked and Grian shrugged.

“Only thing I’m sure of is that I recently went to see the other Watchers. Something was going on, but that was a while ago and since then I’ve been stuck in an infinity room.” He looked at the worried expression on Mumbo’s face. “Mumbo, what happened?”

“So, the admin from Tommy’s world was a Vault God.” Grian’s wings puffed up at Mumbo’s words. “He ended up messing with your Watcher powers and got everyone back to their world and sort of wiped everyone’s memories. I’ve been here trying to fix whatever he did to you so I haven’t really been paying attention to everything that’s been going on since I got us back. Last I checked they all had their memories back… but Dream might have done something more.”

Grian jumped up. “I have to tell the other Watchers about this. A bad admin is one thing, but a Vault God admin that messes with Watchers is worse!”

“He may also be a sort of exiled Vault God based on what he said.” Mumbo added on and Grian seemed to get even angrier.

“Yep, definitely talking to the other Watchers now. I can’t believe he was right under Gxrgeous’ nose!” A portal opened up behind Grian and Mumbo tried not to look at Grian’s multiple purple eyes. “I’ll be right back. And Mumbo?” Mumbo looked up. “Take a shower. While I like that you spent all your time looking for me, I don’t think I even need enhanced senses to tell you need a shower.

Mumbo laughed sheepishly and then got up to do that. Grian chuckled in return then walked through. “Hellooo? Pixlriffs? Zloy? Gxrgeous? Any of you around?”

“Oh my god, Grian you’re alive!” Grian was suddenly tackled from behind.

“Noah! Ugh, get off my literal back!” Grian flapped his wings pushing the Evo Watcher off. “I’m looking for the hermit Watchers and Gxrgeous. You seen them?”

“Yeah, they’re busy freaking out about Gxrgeous’ world. You and Mumbo went through and then they lost connection to it completely. What happened?”

Grian shrugged. “I thought they would know better than me.” He lightly knocked the side of his head. “No memory of what was going on. Mumbo says the admin from there was a Vault God the whole time. I can’t believe I didn’t see it from the start.”

“You mean Dream? He’s a Vault Go- ohhhhhh. Dream… Dreamon. Why didn’t we realize that at the start?”

“Yeah well, something that should really be talked about with Watchers other than you since at this point I really want to connect the worlds so he can’t do anything more to my family.”

“Right, Pretty sure they’re this way.”

The talk had gone well and Grian was surprised to see the Vault Gods so willing to work with them on this. Grian supposed it was because of Dream’s status, but it was still odd to experience.

Zloy had given him a new communicator because his old one had ended up broken somewhere in the mix of things. The moment he was back out of the portal, he started to send a message.

<Grian> Based on what Mumbo said, they’re not here sooooo <Grian> Where are my children! <GoodtimewithScar> GRIAN!!! <Stressmonster> They’re with me. Are you doing okay? <Zedaph> Since he’s not here, I’ll do it for him <Zedaph> *fortnight dances* <ZombieCleo> He would NOT! <Grian> Speaking of, where is Tommy? <TangoTek> No clue, he didn’t come back with you and Mumbo. <Impulse> Don’t text and fly Tango <TangoTek> He knows what he did <Zedaph> welp, bye! *default dances away* <TangoTek> ZED!

Grian chuckled at the messages before sighing and flying to where the infinity portal was. He was glad to see it still sitting there and what looked like someone’s pet cat nearby. The avian was surprised when he landed and heard said cat speak.

“Hey! Can you get my friends? Dey went in there and haven’t come back and Sprinklez said I can’t go through.”

“Sure, I’m going in to get some people myself. Who are you after?”

“Tommy and Tubbox. Dey wanted ta be my friends and we had fun until a big bird thing attacked us!”

Grian winced, realizing that most likely was him. “Yeah, sure I was after Tommy anyway.”

Crumb nodded, but then thought of something. “Wait, Sprinklez said I couldn’t go alone, but but but, he didn’t say I couldn’t go with someone else!”

Grian smiled a mischievous smile and then pulled out his communicator. He asked Crumb’s name and then sent a message.

<Grian> Hey, I’m going with Crumb to pick up some people. Be back soon! <CaptainSparklez> What? Where? <Crumbl> Tommmu ans Tubboc

Before Grian could look at whatever was sent back, he gave out a mischievous cackle and picked up Crumb, taking them through the portal.

[topsytervy]

Rented ~ Rafe Cameron

Part 2

Blurb: After getting rented out to Rafe for midsummers and falling for him, the next week seems like a fairytale...until its not.

Word Count: 6,418

Warnings: swearing, like one sexual line, mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking, canon Rafe (sorry), age gap (16 and 19), mention of injury (the arm burn that Rafe gets from Barry),  poorly edited, not as well written as part 1 and a bit (okay a lot) all over the place, I think thats it

This definitely wasn’t written as well as part 1 and I feel like each little part is their own separate blurbs but hey, it happens.

If you haven’t read Part 1, Here it is.

I just want to say that it’s not okay to rent out your friends or family members without their consent or just in general so…don’t be Barry. Also, google told me age of consent in North Carolina is 16 but THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. I DO NOT CONDONE A RELATIONSHIP WHERE ONE (OR MORE) OF THE PEOPLE IN A RELATIONSHIP IS A MINOR AND THE OTHER (OR OTHERS) IS AN ADULT. I DO NOT CONDONE IT AND DO NOT RECOMMEND IT. THIS IS PURELY FICTION AND FOR THE STORY.

~~~~~

Rafe held his arm as he walked up to the door of the chateau, tears pricking his eyes as he raised his fist to knock. He looked at the burn on his arm as he waited for the door to open.

"Please, Please, Please." He pleaded silently, holding back tears.

If you told him 3 months ago that he'd be pining after a pogue and then invite said pogue to midsummers, he would've laughed at you and told you to piss off.

If you then added that he would be dating the pogue he was pining after and now waiting on John B's porch, praying that she was in there,  he would've had you in a padded room because you were clearly delusional.

But now, here he stood, a couple of days after midsummers, doing exactly that.

Kiara opened the door, looking Rafe up and down.

"So now you’re invading the chateau?" She asked him.

"Please tell me Y/N's here."

JJ rolled his eyes as you stood up from the couch, touching Kies’s shoulder and nodding that it was okay.

"What’s up, handsome?" You smiled.

"Y/N. I-I need some help...please." He whispered, showing you his arm.

You looked down at his arm and your eyes widened. "Shit Rafe." You whispered, grabbing his arm gingerly to get a better look at it before dragging him into the house and towards the bathroom.

JJ glared daggers at Rafe the entire way until you two disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

"You're jealousy is showing." Pope sang, not even looking up from his book.

"What jealousy?" He asked, his voice low as he kept his eyes on the bathroom door.

Pope rolled his eyes before turning the page, ignoring the cluelessness of his friend.

You turned on the bathroom faucet, making sure it was cool before taking your boyfriend’s wrist in your hand before placing it under the water.

"Keep it there while I find the first aid kit okay?"

Rafe nodded as you rummaged through the bathroom, mentally cursing your friends for not putting the kit in the same place every time.

You finally found it underneath some towels and opened it up, finding some ointment and gauze. You pulled out the supplies before going to the medicine cabinet, Rafe moving so you could get in there. You pulled out the ibuprofen and grabbed a small dixie cup from the stack in the corner, filling it with water.

You turned off the faucet and handed him the pills and the cup. Rafe took it without complaint and you went to work on his arm.

"Rafe," you whispered as you applied some ointment to the burn and began wrapping his arm.

He looked up from your hands working on his wrist and into your eyes.

"Who did this?" You asked, concern lacing your words.

Rafe sighed, looking away from you in shame. "Barry." He muttered.

You paused your action as you looked at him. "Barry. Why the hell would he burn you unless…" You trailed off and his face gave him away. You tied off the gauze since you didn’t have any tape and sighed. "You said you quit."

"I said I’m trying to quit but it’s hard. You should know this, angel." Rafe whispered.

He seemed so broken.

"How many lines did you do?"

 “Just half a line, I swear. The withdrawal was getting to me so I did half a line to ease it a bit. Then your brother came by asking for his money and I didn’t have it and-and-"

You placed your hands on his face. "It’s okay. It’s okay. C'mere." You slid your hands around his neck, standing on your toes as you hugged him.

His arms went around your waist and he buried his face into your neck, letting the tears fall. You stayed like that for a while until JJ banged on the door.

"I swear to God, you two better not be fucking in there! You wanna go to pound town, you go somewhere else!"

You rolled your eyes and Rafe pulled away from you. You wiped away Rafe’s tears before giving him a kiss.

"You wanna go somewhere else for a while, handsome."

Rafe smirked. "Why? Wanna go to pound town?"

You smacked him lightly. "No. I wanna make sure you're okay and I  doubt you and JJ can be in the same room together for a couple of hours without one or both of you going to jail."

Rafe chuckled before grabbing your hand, nodding in agreement as he headed towards the door but you stopped him by not moving.

"Let’s go to the place you took me after midsummers. Get some food and we can hang out there for a while." You suggested.

Rafe grinned. "That sounds like an amazing idea, angel."

 ****

 It was around 9 PM when Rafe dropped you off at home. You waved goodbye to Rafe before he pulled out of the driveway.

You walked into the trailer, closing the front door behind you quietly before leaning against the door. A smile adorned your lips as you touched your cheek where Rafe kissed you goodnight before touching the necklace that he gave you.

You heard a whistle and whipped your head towards the kitchen, your brother standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"I never thought I'd see the day where my sister would be all done up like a doll. Looking like a full kook now." He walked over.

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever Barry."

"No. Not whatever Barry. For someone who despises the kook life and looking like a kook, you're sure smiley after coming home looking like that and being surrounded by kooks." He observed.

"Yeah. I had good liquor,  not cheap shit." You told him, rolling your eyes before walking towards your room.

"Nice necklace. Don’t leave it out or I’m trading it in." Barry hollered.

You slammed your door shut and sighed.

"Don't be slamming doors in my household!" You rolled your eyes at Barry’s words, too tired and on cloud 9 to deal with your brother.

You took off your jewelry, minus the necklace Rafe gave you, and kicked off your heels.  You grabbed your pajamas before stalking off into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

While you waited for the water to heat up, you stripped out of your clothes before checking the waters temperature. You hopped in shortly after, doing your usual shower routine which took longer than usual thanks to your mind reminiscing on tonight’s event. It wasn’t until Barry started banging on the door that you were snapped from your thoughts.

"Come the hell on! It’s too late for this and I gotta piss!"

"Alright, alright!" You hollered back, turning off the water and grabbing the towel so you could dry yourself.

You pulled on your sweatpants and tank top before opening the door.

"God damn Y/N, taking 20 years," Barry muttered, rushing into the bathroom as you pushed past him.

You closed your bedroom door as you entered, immediately crawling into bed and under the covers. You touched the necklace once more, a small smile on your face before you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep for a few hours.

Rafe wasn't so lucky. He was so ecstatic that he couldn’t fall asleep. He was giddy as if he did four lines and drank two monsters right before bed.

He really did try to fall asleep but it wasn’t working. By 1 AM, he was still wide awake, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He pulled on his sweatshirt and grabbed his shoes before opening his bedroom door, making his way downstairs soundlessly 

Once he was out the door and in his truck, he put on his shoes, starting the truck afterward, and driving towards your home.  Rafe got out and pulled out his phone, sending you a quick text.

You walked back into your bedroom with a glass of water, yawning as you closed your bedroom door once again. Your phone vibrated on your nightstand and you grabbed it, seeing a text from Rafe.

You up angel?

 You smiled at the message, immediately setting down your glass.

 Yeah. What’s wrong?

 Nothing. Can't sleep. Wanna join me on a little drive?

 You looked around and grabbed a hoodie.

 I'd be honored.

 You pulled on your hoodie and opened up your window, climbing out of it with ease. You walked towards Rafe, who's hair was messy for once, and he smiled.

"You work fast. What is this in your head? Date number five. " you joked when you got close enough.

"I don't know if I’d consider driving around and getting a bunch of shit for midsummers a date." He responded. 

You kissed his cheek as he opened the door for you, closing it before walking over to the driver’s side and getting in himself.

"What about the day we had that picnic on the dock?" You buckled your seatbelt before leaning against the center console, arms crossed and head resting on them as you stared at the blue-eyed boy next to you.

"I'd consider that me trying to swoon and win you over. You know? Try to get you to like me." Rafe told you.

"Okay. Then what would you consider earlier tonight?" You asked.

"Now that is what I'd consider the first date." Rafe grinned, looking over at you as he pulled put of the driveway.

"It is quite the event to have a first date."

"I know."

"And I'll admit that seeing you in that suit was the final nail in the coffin." You admitted.

Rafe looked over at you. "Oh, really? Maybe I should've tried wearing a suit sooner."

"Maybe you should've." You nudged his arm lightly. "Where are we going?"

"Good question. Do you have anywhere you wanna go?" He asked you, making a random turn.

You chewed on your lip, trying to think of someplace but couldn’t. You shook your head and Rafe laughed.

"Alright. I know a place."

"Do you now?"

He looked at you. "Oh, angel. Do I know a place that is gonna knock your socks off." Confidence lacing his words.

"Well, we will see, won’t we?"

Rafe smiled as you brought your legs up onto the seat and threw your hood over your head.

Within 10 minutes, you were in a wooded area, the road a little bumpy.

"There should be some blankets and a pillow in the back. Wanna grab them?" Rafe said as he made a turn.

You nodded, turning around in your seat to grab them before stopping. "What exactly have these blankets been exposed to?"

Rafe laughed. "They're freshly washed and they're the blankets I use whenever I need to get away from my dad for a night. I'll come out here and sleep in the bed of the truck."

"I never thought you’d be the camping type." You commented, reaching back and actually grabbing the blankets and the pillow this time.

"I wouldn’t call it camping. Just getting away from the crazy." He parked the truck and turned off the ignition, taking the keys and shoving them in his sweatpants pocket.

He grabbed some of the blankets from you before getting out of the truck, heading towards the bed. You followed Rafe’s actions, stopping when you got to the bed.

"How the hell did you find this place?" You asked, taking in the little clearing amongst all the trees. It was complete with a little pond and a nice view of the sky.

"Fight with Rose and Ward. Took a little drive. Made some random turns and the next thing I knew, I was here." Rafe took the blankets from your arm, leaving you with the pillow.

"It’s so peaceful." You breathed out.

"I know." He said, sitting on the bed of the truck as he took his shoes off.

He crawled over to the little window that led into the backseat and opened it, throwing his shoes through it. You tossed him the pillow before hopping onto the bed to take your own shoes off, doing the same thing as Rafe.

Your Y/E/C eyes met his blue ones and he opened his arms as he laid his head down on the pillow. You made your way over to him and rested your head on his chest as Rafe pulled a blanket over the two of you. He wrapped an arm around your waist as his other hand went to play with your hair.

You two stared at the stars for a while before you spoke.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Shoot."

You reached up and ran a hand through his hair. "As much as I like the slicked-back greaser look, I like it a bit better this way. All messy and whatever."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. You don't look so stuck up this way."

Rafe laughed a bit, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"I bet."

You both ended up falling asleep like that. You with your head on his chest and curled into his side; Him with his arms around you and his cheek pressed against the top of your head.

 *****

You sat in the bed of Rafe’s truck again, you leaning against the cab as Rafe leaned against you, his head against your chest. Your fingers played with his hair as you two basked in the silence.

Rafe could've fallen asleep like that but his mind was racing.

"Y/N, angel,"

You hummed in response, looking down at him.

"Can-can you try to convince Barry to give me until the weekend?"

You sighed. "You know Barry doesn't like me sticking my nose in his little drug empire. Chances are he won't even listen to me."

"Please," He whispered.

You stayed quiet for a few moments.

"I’ll try." You kissed the top of his head. "You have to promise me that you go to urgent care to get that burn checked out tonight though. Okay? It looks bad and I don't want it getting infected or anything."

"I promise,"

 ****

"Nah. Country club was late on a payment. He doesn’t get his bike back until it’s paid off." Barry told you, bringing his beer to his lips.

"Okay. I know that you had to take his bike since it was his collateral, but burning his wrist? Barry, that was horrible." You scolded him.

Barry shrugged. "Don't care."

"You should care! Rafe is trying to get his life back on track and for all I know, that might set him back. He might go a snort a couple of lines to deal with the pain!" You retorted.

Barry ignored you, setting his beer down and standing up. "It’s weird how you suddenly care about him and his well-being."

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes and Barry walked towards you. "You also haven't taken that necklace off since you got home from midsummers. JJ couldn't have bought it, he ain't got the money for it so that answer is off the table. So either you swiped it from some rich bitch or some rich dick bought it for you."

"You do know JJs a klepto, right? He still could've given it to me."

 "And then, there's you saying Rafes trying to get his life together. Weird considering you don’t talk to his friends or his family. I'm pretty sure the last time you talked to him was midsummers and Rafe isn't the kind to have a little sit-down public pity party. He likes looking like he'll beat the shit out of you if you even breathe his way. He likes looking like the alpha."

"What are you? A fucking profiler?" You started backing up until you hit a wall.

"All this bullshit can only mean one thing," Barry cornered you, "you're messing around with Rafe Cameron."

You swallowed as you glared at him and Barry laughed.

"My little sister is getting it on with Rafe Cameron. Holy shit. That’s why he paid me so he could take you to his little kook event. Oh my god. Country club caught feelings for a pogue! I kinda wish you didn’t like him back cause maybe he'd keep paying me to take you out." Barry grinned.

"You're disgusting. You would pimp out your little sister so you can make a little money." You shook your head in disgust.

Barry narrowed his eyes before grabbing your wrist. "Don’t you ever say that ever again. I may have let it happen with Rafe but if Luke or someone else walked in and handed me money and told me that it was so they could have their way with you, I'd beat them bloody. So don’t you ever, ever, say I'd pimp you out. You should be thanking me considering you have a rich boy toy now."

You wrenched your wrist from his hand, rubbing it a bit. "Don't touch me, Barry."

You pushed Barry out of the way and walked out the front door, immediately calling JJ.

"Come pick me up. I can't stay here tonight.”

"Why?"

"JJ…"

"Okay. Okay. I got it. I'll be there in like 15. I'll steal the twinkie."

Within 20 minutes, you were seated in the passenger seat next to JJ.

"So...you gonna tell me what happened or am I gonna have to beat Barry up with the only defense being he sells coke to mt dad?" JJ broke the silence, glancing at you.

"He said he wishes I didn’t end up liking Rafe back cause then he probably would've made bank off of Rafe paying him to have a date with me or something like that." You sighed.

JJ looked at you in disgust. "Like pimp you out?"

"That’s what I said. That he was disgusting for that. All he said after that was that if it was anyone but Rafe, he'd beat them bloody. He even said I should be thanking him cause I have a rich boy toy now." You let your head rest against the glass.

"Well, I don’t thank him," JJ muttered.

You lifted your head to look at him. "What?"

"You and Rafe are kind of a thing now, right?" JJ glanced at you, turning on the blinker. 

"I mean, I don’t think we're like...exclusive or whatever. I think it’s just we're seeing each other and seeing where it goes."  You answered, feeling a bit shy all the sudden.

"Well, your brilliant brother Barry got you seeing a cokehead who has some slight anger issues when he's sober and they are possibly worse when he's high," JJ stated.

"J, I-"

"Don't J me, Y/N. I'm being straight with you, okay? Rafe doesn’t have the best track record. He can be a bit...unpredictable."

"He's trying to get himself off coke." You defended him.

"I get that but listen to me. There’s going to be some trip-ups. He’s going to relapse at some point and if you confront him while he’s high or do one thing that sets him off when he's high, he might hurt you." JJ looked at you before looking back at the road, "I don’t want you to get hurt."

You placed your hand on his forearm. "JJ, I have faith in him and I know it’s going to be a bumpy road. But you know me. I want to help people through their toughest times. I believe Rafe genuinely cares about me and that I can help get him through this."

JJ looked at you before holding up his pinky. "Promise me that if he lays a hand on you in any threatening way that you'll dump his ass and tell me."

You took your hand off his arm and linked your pinky with his. "Promise. "

****

After finding out that Ward had the gold now, you couldn’t help but tear up a little and there was one person who you knew could help cheer you up.

"I can't tell if your eyes are red cause your high or cause you've been crying," Rafe commented as he set the bong on the table in front of him.

"I only had a hit off JJs blunt so it’s gotta be the latter." You admitted, heading over to the little couch to sit on.

Rafe felt his jaw clench at JJs name but unclenched it within seconds and caught you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap.

"Awe angel. What’s wrong?" He cooed, giving your jaw a little kiss.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "Let’s say something my friends and I really looked forward to getting is now gone. And Barry tried robbing my friends but that’s a whole different story."

Rafe nodded, hearing about his sister’s break-in the day it happened so he focused on the first part. "May I ask what this something was?"

Rafe rubbed small circles on your back as you thought about it.

"Not really but if I had what we were going to get, I would be on my way to getting emancipated and getting the hell out of here." Rafe leaned back and you placed your head on his shoulder. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

You shot Rafe a look. "Don’t play the dumb card."

"I’m fine," Rafe told you.

"Don't lie to me. Barry has been raging to me ever since your dad beat him and Whe-"

Rafe’s eyes widened, grabbing your chin and lifting your head so you were looking at him. "He's not hurting you for what my dad did, right? Cause I'll- I'll fucking kill him if he is."

"No, no, no. He's just been bitching about it." You reassured him, seeing him visibly relax, "but Wheezie told me you were here and that Ward kicked you out."

Rafe sighed, throwing his head back. "Blabbermouth."

"Rafe, why didn’t you tell me?"

"It’s my problem, not yours. Unlike Sarah who can’t do any wrong, I do everything wrong. That’s probably why he's taking Sarah to the Bahamas."

"What are you talking about?" You sat up.

"He's taking an impromptu trip to the Bahamas with his favorite kid even though I know way more about business than her." Rafe fumed.

You kissed his temple and played with his hair before stopping.

"Rafe, I have to go. I-I just remembered I’m supposed to be helping JJ with his English homework." You told him as you got off of his lap.

"What? It’s summer." Rafe pointed out, a confused look on his face.

"Well, yeah. But it's JJ so summer school, ya know." You laughed lightly before giving him a peck on the lips. "I’ll text you later, okay?"

And with that you left, leaving Rafe alone. He felt jealousy course this his veins before sighing. If JJ wanted him out of the picture and to take his place, he would've made up some lie about Rafe already that would've had him out of your life already.

He had to get used to the fact that JJ and you were close, always looking out for each other, making sure each other didn't get into any trouble.

And as hard as it was for him to swallow, you wouldn't drop JJ. Rafe had to share you with others.

And if there’s one thing he wasn’t the best at, it was sharing.

*****

After Rafe had told you about Ward and Sarah’s trip to the Bahamas, you rushed to find your friends, running into Pope on the way, exchanging information as you guys made your way to your friends.

"So Ward killed Big John?" Disbelief laced your voice as you approached the dock.

Pope nodded his head, both of you panting as you came to a stop, the other three members of the group staring at you two.

You sat down on the ground as you placed your hands above your head and Pope stood, bent over with his hands on his knees.

JJ walked over to you and crouched down, rubbing your back as he looked between you and Pope.

"You guys okay?" Kie asked, eyebrows raised.

You both shook your heads.

"We ran all the way here." Pope panted.

"Why?" John B asked.

Pope pointed at you. "You first."

"Well...I-I went Tanneyhill to visit Rafe and um… Wheezie told me he wasn't there. Ward kicked him out after catching Rafe going through his safe to pay off Barry. Ward paid him off or whatever. He said some things about how Rafes a liar and a thief-"

"Wow. I'm so shocked." JJ deadpanned with an eye-roll.

You stared at him and he raised his hands in surrender, letting you continue. "So I went to check on him. See if he relapsed or anything. I asked him what was wrong and he-he said something about Ward and Sarah taking a trip to the Bahamas. Popcorning it to Pope."

"My dad said something about having to cut down some trees for Ward to extend the runway for his jet. Why would he need to extend his runway unless something heavy was in that plane?" Pope rushed out.

"We still have a chance." John B looked at everyone.

"To the twinkie!" Kie hopped up, taking off in a sprint.

JJ pulled you up and you groaned,  running after them.

****

"He's hurting her." John B said.

"What?" JJ looked over at his best friend.

"You guys watched as John B stormed towards the van.

"John B! Hey, man!" JJ hollered.

He slid into the driver’s side before slamming the door shut.

"JB! Think about this" Kie tried.

The van started and he charged the fence. JJ grabbed you and pulled you off to the side as you all watched him take off towards the plane.

"Oh my god. What is he thinking?" You whispered.

"I don’t think he is." JJ breathed out.

It wasn’t long before you heard police sirens.

"Come on. We have to go." Kie told you guys.

"Are you kidding me? We have to help him!" JJ shouted.

"JJ, listen to me. You are on probation. You, and I can’t stress this enough, cannot be here right now especially when that gun is in your bag. And don't say it’s not because I know it is." You attested, holding JJs shoulders.

JJ sighed, grabbing his hat from the ground and pulling it on his head before you all took off running.

****

Rafe’s hand was running through his hair as his other held the gun. Sheriff Peterkin laid on the ground as Ward spoke to him, showing his son that he had the Sheriff's walkie talkie.

Rafe looked past his dad to see John B walking backward.

"Hey. Hey! Where do you think you're going?" He shouted, lifting the gun again.

"John B, run." Sarah told him.

John B took off as Sarah and Ward stopped Rafe from going after him. Only one thought ran through his head as the curly haired boy ran off.

John B was going to tell you, which meant Rafe might lose you.

****

"Who's blood is that John B?" Kiara asked.

You were sitting next to Pope before you were standing up.

"Sheriff Peterkins." He answered numbly.

"What? How did her blood get on you?" JJ asked.

"Rafe shot Peterkin."

Your eyes widened. "What?"

"Rafe shot Peterkin, Y/N. She was going to arrest Ward and he shot her trying to protect his dad."

Your fingers immediately went to your necklace and you shook your head, tears in your eyes. "He wouldn’t."

"Y/N. Listen to me. Why would I lie about something like this? Rafe shot Peterkin in the back. I swear to you, on god, he did." He crouched down looking at you.

Your arms wrapped around your waist. "I think I'm gonna be sick." 

Popes immediately put his hand on your back. "We're sorry, Y/N." He mumbled.

"I didn’t think he'd murder someone." You whispered.

"No one could've known. Okay. Don’t beat yourself up over." Pope reassured you.

"I should've stayed with him."

Pope looked up at JJ and nodded towards you. JJ sighed, walking over to you and sitting down, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

"Y/N listen to me. It’s over, okay. It’s done. Its happened. Do not blame yourself because he decided to do something irrational."

Your fingers ran over the word ‘angel’ as you spoke. "I’m a fool. Getting involved with him."

Kie immediately shook her head. "No, you're not. He's a charmer, okay. A smooth talker. It’s fine. He told you he was going to change his bad habits and instead, he ended up doing something way worse than what he usually does."

Silence hung in the air for a minute before John B spoke. "We have to go to the police."

The four of you nodded, JJ turning his attention to you. "When’s the last time you ate?"

You shrugged.

"Let’s stop somewhere quick and get her something to eat. Something to-go."

"I’m not really hungry, J." You mumbled.

"Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, you need to eat before you pass out or something. Even if it’s just chips."

JJ’s eyes bore into yours and you sighed, nodding, still messing with the necklace Rafe gave you.

"Can you drop me off at the beach on the way to the police station? And you can pick me up when you're done. I'll text one of you where I'm at." You asked.

Everyone looked at each other before nodding and heading towards the twinkie. Once in the van, you pulled out your phone and texted Rafe.

Beach. 15 minutes.

****

Rafe has been texting you since he got home and none of them had received an answer. Not even a read receipt which he would've taken at this point.

So when he finally got a text from you saying to be at the beach in 15 minutes, he wasted no time in throwing on some shoes and grabbing his car keys, practically sprinting to his car and speeding towards the beach. 

When he got there and stepped out of the car, he sent you a text.

Where are you?

 You were quick to reply.

 Dock.

 He made his way towards the dock and you sat on the edge, legs swinging as your hands gripped the wood.

"Hey, angel. You haven’t replied to any of my texts. I was getting worried that something happened to you." He greeted, the sight of you easing his nerves a little.

You stood up and ran a hand through your hair, looking out at the water. "I'm going to be blunt and ask you flat out... did you kill Sheriff Peterkin?"

Rafe hesitated for a second before letting out a light laugh. "What are you talking about, Y/N?"

You turned around, blinking back tears. "Did you kill Peterkin?" You asked slower. "And don't lie to me, Rafe. John B already told me but I want- no. I need to hear it from you. So, did you kill Peterkin?"

Rafe scratched the tip of his nose with his thumb, sighing. "I...I shot Peterkin. Yes."

You felt the tears threatening to spill so you dug the heel of your hands into your eyes. You gathered your thoughts before speaking once more. "Who did you and your father pin it on?"

"What?"

"Rafe. Don't play fucking dumb with me. I know you're not stupid. We both know Ward wouldn’t want his family name being dragged like that so who the hell did you pin it on." You seethed.

"John B." Rafe whispered after a minute.

You shook your head in disbelief as Rafe grabbed your hands. "Listen, Y/N, angel. The first week of a relationship is always a little rocky. We'll work through it.”

You snatched your hands away from him. "It’s one thing to be there for your partner when they're going through a problem like addiction or something and to work through those issues. It’s an entirely different thing when your partner commits a murder. There is no way to work through it, Rafe. You killed someone. I knew there'd be ups and downs but I didn't think this would be one of them."

"Y/N, listen to me. Okay? I need you to listen to me. It's going to be fine. I can get two tickets to wherever you want to go. Belgium, Argentina, Greenland, Canada, London, New Zealand, wherever. Just tell me where and we'll go. Leave. Start fresh. Only bring a bag and a carry-on and we'll fly the hell out of here. Yeah? How does that sound, angel?"

You stared at him, mouth agape. "I cannot in good conscience flee the country with you or even be with you unless you try and be a better person."

Rafe licked his lips. "What do you want me to do? Recycle. Give to the poor. What?"

"Rafe. Doing all that doesn’t make up for the life you took."

"She was going to kill my dad, Y/N. What did you want me to do? Stand there and watch!"

"Despite what you think Rafe, you're dad isn’t a saint. He wasn’t going to get shot unless he tried something stupid, he was going to be arrested! Sheriff Peterkin found out that your dad killed Big John and possibly some other dirt on him. You and I both know you probably wouldn't be this way of he didn’t treat you as if you were dog shit on the bottom of his new Italian shoes. What do you think is gonna happen if the truth comes out? Hmm? That John B didn’t kill Peterkin but you did. You think your father is still going to be there and picking up the pieces. No! He'll sit there and let you rot in prison as long as it’s not him. As long as he's in the clear, he's not going to do shit. All he cares about is his image and if you get thrown in jail, he’ll just disown you. Say you're not his son when they ask for a comment from him. He will find a way to avoid going to prison, even if it means throwing his own son under the bus. We both know this Rafe. I’m sorry but it's the truth."

Your Y/E/C eyes bore into his dull blue ones that were once bright. You reached behind your neck and unlatched the necklace as you saw headlights pull up.

"Here."

Rafe shook his head. "No."

"Take it, Rafe."

"I’m not taking it back Y/N."

"Rafe, just take the damn thing."

He shook his head as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I said no."

"Why not?" You asked trying to keep your voice from breaking.

"Because if I take it back then that means you're not mine anymore." He answered.

"Whether or not you take it back, I'm not yours until you right your wrongs cause this is a really big wrong that absolutely needs to be righted."

"Y/N!" You heard JJ call as footsteps made their way towards you. 

"Please, Rafe." You whispered, taking his wrist and prying his fingers open, laying the necklace in his palm. "It was a fun week." You whispered once more before running towards JJ, the tears finally falling.

"Y/N! Please don't leave me! Y/N! "Y/N!" Rafe screamed after you, but it was too late.

Rafe fisted his hair as he walked off the dock before taking his hand and punching a nearby trashcan.

The one motivation he had to change for the better had run away from him.

****

You sat next to JJ, head on his shoulder as he had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your phone vibrating every 2 minutes.

"You get that thing you needed to do done?" He asked.

You nodded.

JJ desperately wanted to ask what the thing was that you needed to do. However, between John B being on the run from the cops and Pope and Kie being in the van, he knew he shouldn't ask considering everyone would tell him its none of his business.

So, he used his eyes to try and figure out what it was that you needed to do. After all, he's watched some Criminal Minds with you so he should be able to do this.

His eyes trailed over your body to figure it out. When he got to your neck, he noticed that the angel necklace that once adorned it was gone, leaving your neck bare.

Between that and what seemed like constant messages and calls, JJ figured you broke things off with Rafe.

Your phone started vibrating again and he gave you a small smile as he reached over and grabbed your phone.

He saw Rafe’s name and picture flashing across the screen before it stopped, a number five next to his name for the missed calls and twenty next to texts.

And then Rafe’s picture was back on the screen, staring at JJ. The blonde sighed and rolled his eyes, turning off your phone before putting it in his pocket.

He looked down at you to see the tear stains on your cheeks and your eyes dull, half-open as you blankly stared ahead of you.

"Why don't you sleep for a bit, Y/N/N? You look like you’ve had a rough day." JJ whispered into your ear.

"Mkay." You mumbled closing your eyes as JJ rubbed your arm.

JJ moved around so you could be a bit more comfortable, laying your head on his chest as he played with your hair to help you fall asleep faster.

Kiara looked at JJ.

"She okay?" She mouthed.

He only shrugged as he turned his attention to you.

"It's a lot to process." He mouthed back to Kie as he glanced back at her.

The curly-haired girl nodded as she watched JJ's gaze return to you. Your eyes were slowly closing as you worked on falling asleep, only focusing on JJs heartbeat and his fingers running through your hair as you tried to forget the last week.

But it’s hard to forget the last week when it felt like you were living in a fairytale. And for pogues, it was a nice change to feel like you were.

But I guess this goes to show that not all fairytales have happy endings. And that not all handsome princes are knights on steeds ready to be a hero.

Sometimes, they're the worst villain in the story.

~~~~~~~~