#except the first ones cause i was just processing how it sounded so i didnt say anything about them

[kenjiyabuki]

DMD FTR: finale thoughts

i forgot to put this out because i've been in the process of being an employed adult human person these days, unfortunately (no one who saw my previous DMD FTR posts is surprised that i was unemployed). now i wont even get to have my weekly crisply shot and edited hang outs w Gen 3 besties while this new job is sucking my soul... but this was a pleasant finale to this sweet and chill and incredibly unsurprising show!

here's the thing: i dont even know who Domundi is trying to fool w this double win stuff cause they did literally announce the new gen would be acting in TWO (2) new series during their 2023 Line Up event???????

so the double win wasn't a surprise AT ALL but it's okay, it didnt really diminish my enjoyment out of the show at all. i wanted both couples to have series anyway!

as i've said in my first post about this show, it has been very obvious that this shows' intention isn't to be a competition, it's more of a new gen "inauguration". they could've just put the boys through bunch of workshops and let them choose partners off camera too but they chose to put money and time in to make it a whole show, so people could witness their journey and premature fan clubs would form and develop. i think its fun and clever marketing but did it work???

well, the boys def have more fans now BUT on the same day this episode was premiering, some ZNN fans were crying about their faves (who just had a movie come out, also filming a show rn AND scheduled to film another one after) being slighted by the company and they didn't need to "add more". like i said, i don't really follow Domundi closely, if the fans are right about artist management i might not know... but their Gen 2 was extremely successful after all and people are BEGGING for more series, so it's not a bad move for a company to want to grow. i wish fans would be more mature and learn more the industry the person they "stan" works in! why would a growing company would just make shows w 2 actors over and over man, cmon 😭

okay now that i got that out of me, back to the finale. some notes about the general:

the group performance of the theme song was a bit cringe to me bc i just hate that kind of music. but everyone's ending fairies were really cuteeeee so i forgive them

real winners of the episode is the background dancers because they literally did all the performances and acted too, very well!!

Domundi members and variety of industry people in the audience was sweet to see and added valuable comments/advice for the boys. i was especially happy to see Jimmy and Tommy, whom i ADORE!!!!

i was laughing at that LOUD ASS clapping and hollering track they kept playing to add some more noise to the audience's. like i know why they did it but how much that big sound didn't match w that small crowd just tickled me..

well, yeah, i cant get into idol-ing stuff personally so i was kind of bored during the solo performances. i dont really have comments that hasn't already been said by the judges. i thought all the boys did what they were supposed to do and showcased their talents, EXCEPT Latte........ my dude, what happened? i think he could've lip sync to the song, which IS a skill (Rupaul's Drag Race battles and just drag performances in general as evidence...) that would add a lot to his performance.

Firstone leaving the competition w Best Friendship & Best Performance Awards in his pocket and two guys wanting to be his partner. What a little star... Deserved and love his cocky attitude.

about couple jukebox musicals:

in my last episode commentary, i joked about Mandee getting inspired from my ideas but then they actually kinda happened lol🧐🧐🧐🧐 ThomasKong's performance was a coming of age, young love story while KengNamping's story was more complex romance w an angsty core, almost exactly like i wished for.

all in all, KengNamping's performance grabbed my attention the most. mostly because their acting & chemistry seemed improved to me (that kiss fake out at the end, what the hell??? you guys couldn't hold an eye contact couple eps ago...) AND their storyline just ATEEEE. i dont know who came up w the forbidden romance between kinda out of touch but well meaning rich boy & his "i suffer through love quietly" village boy bodyguard, w humour sprinkled in, but they need to get their ass eaten regularly...

ThomasKong don't even need to try that hard, they are just natural born charmers!!!! i liked their friends to lovers, nerdy guy cant believe popular one' love bc he doesnt see his value storyline (Thomas could've busted out One Direction's "What Makes You Beautiful"). With the romantic prom climax, it reminded me of American high school movies and fit their vibes perfectly. i wish it was more humorous, because i think comedy is one of their strong suits. like how did it ended up that shy kings KengNamping got more laughs than ThomasKong, the goofballs themselves??? whoever is writing their series, please take notes, now that i know you are reading these...

after the glorious double win and the cute four-way hug, Aof said that two shows would be announced this year which clearly meant that most we are getting this year are pilot trailers. which is fine. not easy to be patient but i get that they are a smaller company w lots on their plates already. i hope they will use that time to work and work and work on the shows!!!!

i honestly want Domundi to kind of change up things in their filmmaking/producing styles, maybe switch directors sometimes and try diffferent styles idk... this show and Gen 3 in general felt very refreshing and i hope they keep that vibe going! and maybe i will finally watch a Domundi show till the last episode.

P.S.: Extra clips were released this week and KengNamping's was sweet. i was kinda laughing at how much of a set up it was like, them conveniently sharing a blanket, all mic'd up, getting filmed w lights on etc. but their conversation and mood in the moment seemed sincere, which is enough. it was nice to see the context for ep 5, when they found each other at the other end of the red ribbon and said that so much happened on that bridge. what a perfect circle moment, from comforting each other about not winning a challenge to winning the show!

[godsfavoritescientist]

(this post is satire)

I keep seeing people be like "Mabel caused the apocalypse when she gave Bill the rift!" and I think those people are missing the bigger picture. The REAL reason why Mabel caused the apocalypse is because she didn't press the red button in nwhs to shut down the portal before it finished powering on!

She had NO reason to trust Stan by that point, all the evidence she had up until then pointed towards him being some kind of supercriminal who LIED about his identity and maybe even killed the real stan, and she KNEW for a FACT that the portal being turned on would cause the end of the world, because she saw the blacklight warning messages about it only a few minutes beforehand!

But when it came down to it, she didn't listen to her own brother (a reoccurring problem :/ its so toxic to have different goals and interests and opinions from someone as perfect as Dipper), and let the portal finish activating, which DIRECTLY led to the rift existing in the first place.

And sure, you might wanna argue that Stan was the one who spent thirty years making the portal functional again, and was also the one who started the portal-turning-on process, and was also the one who convinced Mabel not to shut down the portal at the last second, and he had plenty of time to see the blacklight warning messages between the time he discovered that Ford used blacklight and the time the portal finished powering on, but she still could have shut it down before it was too late! A little bit of emotional anguish doesn't excuse making a decision that led to the end of the world.

You might also want to argue that Ford was the one who made the portal in the first place (and he was manipulated by Bill for years... which is WAY worse than being tricked by Bill for one day or for one second, and is totally 100% definitely Ford's fault. Like... who would let themselves get tricked by Bill... just don't fall for it?) but Ford at least TRIED to shut down the portal after he discovered how dangerous it was. Like, sure, he started out ignoring a lot of people who warned him that it was dangerous, and even after he found out he never fully disassembled the portal before he fell in (or even just burned the portal schematic pages), and the last thing he told Stan was "help me!" which made it sound like he WANTED Stan to turn the incredibly dangerous portal back on.... but after he came back, he dedicated all of his time to fixing his mistakes! I guess except for the time he played dungeons dungeons and more dungeons for multiple days in a row with Dipper, and didn't say anything about Stan and the kids leaving the shack once it was bill-proofed, and didnt put alien adhesive on the rift right away when he found it in the spaceship, and let himself get captured by a security droid (as if letting himself be tricked by Bill wasn't enough...) and let Dipper, a 12 year old, carry the rift in his backpack while it was still cracked, but he at least he didn't say or do anything impulsive while upset with his sibling! And DON'T say "he punched Stan" or "he told Stan to leave his house by the end of the Summer" or "he corrected Stan's grammar right before they were going to defeat Bill in a way that wouldn't have required erasing Stan's memories", none of that helped to CAUSE the APOCALYPSE. Except for I guess the time he sent that postcard to Stan. He should have never brought Stan into such a dangerous situation when he knew he might get frustrated at him tbh, and he basically goaded Stan into shoving him into the portal, which helped to eventually create the rift. He should have dropped everything with their argument and turned off the portal before continuing the conversation! But even then, he wasn't the one who let the portal get turned on AGAIN, so he's STILL less to blame than Mabel.

Even if you think he DID somehow help to cause the apocalypse more than Mabel did (btw i am judging you for that if you are. Stan and Ford did basically nothing to help cause the apocalypse how could you hate them :/), Ford was the one who bill-proofed the shack! He did way more to try to stop the apocalypse than Mabel ever did! I mean yeah, Mabel was the one who fought tooth and nail for that unicorn hair, which they couldn't have bill-proofed the shack without, let alone have a safe haven during the apocalypse or make a successful shacktron without, but she wasn't the one to glue the unicorn hair into place around the shack. All she did was follow Ford's orders (unlike Dipper, who was willing to physically fight back against Ford and almost erase his mind when he thought Bill might be possessing him! And also the time he ignored Ford telling him not to try and save him and just focus on fixing the rift, and even brought the rift with him onto the droid, a highly dangerous environment that could have broken the rift and caused the apocalypse. It was so brave of Dipper to make such a risky move even though he knew what would happen if the rift broke open). All Mabel cared about was not getting separated from her sibling (a flaw she and Stan share tbh..... but at least the only thing Stan broke on accident was a science fair project and not an interdimensional rift!). She should have just sucked it up and accepted that Dipper getting away from her toxic behaviors and getting to be taught by Ford (the best possible mentor anyone could ever have!) would have been the best thing that ever happened to him. The show literally definitely 100% implies that Mabel is suffocating Dipper's potential just like Stan did with Ford, and its really sad that she was immature enough to be THAT UPSET about something Dipper was really happy about! Like, she's literally almost 13, she should be more mature by now. Not to mention picking up the wrong backpack and not even knowing what the rift was... use your critical thinking skills, Mabel! The audience knows how dangerous it is and we don't even live in the world of the show, its not that hard :/

Handing over the rift was less influential in ending the world than LETTING the rift be CREATED, but she still should have not wanted to spend more time with her friends and family. It's just like the time Stan spent decades trying to bring back his brother (who isn't even a good person?) instead of accepting that he was gone.

Like, sure, she didn't knowingly make a deal with Bill, but she still should have known better! The time Dipper knowingly made a deal with Bill after Bill made him upset at his sister was totally different, and even though he almost dropped Mabel from high up in a theater while she was in that cake prop, its not like she actually got hurt or anything, and if anything Dipper was in more danger from that mistake. Unlike when Mabel got put in that prison bubble! She got to be in a perfectly good and not-even-all-that-creepy fantasy land! Her getting lowkey brainwashed while in the bubble and trapped in there for away from any of her friends or family for what was supposed to be eternity is a pretty good deal as far as Bill deals go! And even if Bill ended up half a second away from killing her in the end, that's still nothing compared to the bridge plan he had for Dipper that he didn't get the chance to get close to following through with.

The bottom line is, Mabel is the worst member of the Pines family, and YES it IS a competition. Comparing all of their flaws and mistakes is what the show is all about! She should have either listened to what everyone else told her to do all the time or been kicked out of the house for the summer, and even that wouldn't have been enough of a punishment. If only she had shut down the portal before Ford came back, she would have been so much more bearable :)

Tl;dr: contrary to what was said in The Last Mabelcorn, Mabel Pines is NOT a good person and nearly SINGLEHANDEDLY caused the apocalypse!!!!!

[sunshine-arcanine]

okey… starting a diff post for this but

im gonna tell about them but first um.. be mindful of uh

pokemon abuse and death

read at your own risk, ermm yeah

ive mentioned them before, vaguely, but the year i became champion a … lot was going on in my region . professor sine’s new pc box program had been implemented most everywhere to allow anyone to access their boxes remotely instead of going to Pokémon centers to take your pokeballs out you know , because everything had been turned into digital data

well soon after me n my friends sascha and jony set out for our gym challenge this group came up called team Eden. and they were just about everywhere and they seemed pretty harmless at first cause all they talked about was , like, training their Pokémon in humane ways and how that made them better than everyone else . we kind of just ignored it , but eventually something happened with the new pc box system … it had been taken over by team eden and they had made the pcs unusable. you couldn’t retrieve your Pokémon, and even worse, the pcs were tied to the Pokémon centers themself to allow Pokémon to heal inside their digital pokeballs — so you couldn’t heal your injured Pokémon without restores or potions . a lot of Pokémon couldn’t get help and ended up dying , as well as a lot of mons stored in pcs ended up disappearing.

what happened was that team eden had used the flaws in the pc to edit their own pokemon’s stats, hurting them , AND to genetically modify two legendary mon using data from other mons- killing them in the process- to create a Pokémon stronger than arceus . I don’t know why they did it . but Sascha left me and jony to join team eden at that point and he ended up becoming the trainer for one of these pokemon . it was called polybius I think . but it didn’t turn out the way eden wanted it to, i think, cause it was always in pain and Sascha told me it dissolved any pokeball he tried to keep it in except for a master ball . so the only way you could keep it was against its will .

the other pokemon, Hieroconas, turned out ok.. but it was confused and didn’t know how to exist and was freed from team eden headquarters by a grunt who took pity on it, iirc… and i don’t really like talking about this part but i think it’s important to educate people about the tragedy of genetically modified pokemon . we already know about type:null and mewtwo but nobody knows about the polyhiero incident.

well. i was with Hieroconas for a while before I could finish my gym challenge; i never caught it, i just kind of hung around with it before I knew what it was because my Pokédex said nothing about it . i was too scared to go to Pokémon centers and the team eden grunts had gotten vicious in cities looking for it (which.. i DIDNT even know I HAD). and I learned that it didn’t know how to fight without a trainer instructing it ; but there was this move it had , Breaker, it was described in data to always hit but only work on one Pokémon as an instant ko

AGH THIS IS GETTING TOO LONG i just wanna make sure the full story is there . And people in my region like to pretend it never happened . This wasn’t that long ago ! Two years is not a long time! The team eden tower still stands in ka’dako!

Well anyways I’ll hurry this up and say that I had to instruct Hieroconas in a battle against Sascha who had polybius . And the way that thing sounded when it moved and it’s cry i really don’t think I’ll ever forget it was just so WRONG everything about it . Well. Breaker works only on Polybius and it killed it. I’m kind of glad about it, not to be dark, but at least it was put out of the misery it never asked for

Hieroconas is somewhere on a preserve now i think . I hope it’s okay.

Here’s a picture of their pc icons I took from a team eden computer

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

what do you think of Tom Keifer's solo album?

omg you reminded me to listen to it because i havent yet and i was going to until iron maiden swept me away to a different planet.

as soon as i saw your ask i started listening to the 'rise' album and then there's 'the way life goes' in the playlist after that that i havent heard yet either.

i'm holding off on posting this until i hear them all sorry for the wait.

its very different from cinderella but u can tell that voice [typed this part while listening to Rise, 7 songs in]

'breaking down' is one that i probably wouldn't recognize if i didn't know it was him. still good for what it is!

omg i love his voice at the beginning of 'taste for the pain'. i wouldn't recognize it as him in that one either.

and now i can tell its him again in 'life was here'. i love how different he sounds and goes back and forth between the 2 voices. also great song.

'you believe in me' is so slow and relaxing, i could take a nap and have this playing the whole time and sleep better than a baby.

ok my playlist switched to 'the way life goes' album now and i already like 'solid ground' as soon as it started. he said shelter, IS THAT A REFERENCE? (probably not because its a common word anyway).

'a different light'. is this gonna be one of those albums where i just like every track more than the last? probably because i love this one too, a lot. HE HAS SUCH A GOOD VOICE i love him.

'its not enough' IS GOOD TOO. i like the last song better but its still good.

'cold day in hell' i can already tell is one that will get stuck in my head if i keep listening to it. looooove!

'thick and thin' is so cute omg

'ask me yesterday' aww his voice. he almost sounds like a country singer in this one.

'fool's paradise' good song, i could see some parts of this getting stuck in my head too.

'the flower song', just the name sounds cute alone. aww im picturing the beginning lyrics. omg its such a good song i love this. AWWW, ALL OF THE LYRICS! and now i'm imagining his cute self singing it. this is my favorite so far of all of them.

'mood elevator' is he singing about his own face?? it sure elevates my mood. this album is also a mood elevator.

'welcome to my mind' thanks tom glad to be here. nice song. theyre all so different from each other and i love it.

'you showed me' another cute song, aw. great voice. i like when he goes higher and higher than then u hear his signature voice sound a little bit at the top.

'ain't that a bitch' nice name. another good song.

'the way life goes' another favorite so far but i still like the flower song best.

'babylon' some parts of this reminds me of bon jovi tbh. good song.

duet version of 'nobody's fool', i already like that song but its interesting to hear a different version. always gonna prefer the cinderella version but this one's not bad. lots of differences.

'a little help from my friends' omg. i love this song i didn't know he did a version of it! it sounds so good, he did such a good job. im so proud of his cute face rn.

SO looking back, i like 'the way life goes' album better than 'rise' and the flower song is my top favorite, 10/10 would listen to all again.

rise is still good but itssss.. like for a specific mood??

these were all of what were on his spotify page that i tossed into a playlist a while back so hopefully i didnt just make a big list of songs that you werent even talking about.

[yanderes-galore]

i wasnt sure if you taking portal requests at first since i didnt see it anywhere on your lists except the masterpost so seeing you post those Glados headcanons someone else requested made me happy.. (god bless evil robot women) can i suggest Glados turning Reader into an AI for a scenario with her? 👀

Oh- it's supposed to be- It's fixed now. Here you go! Also, not sure how long the scenario will be with this prompt but I hope it's good.

For Science

Yandere! Glad0s with AI! Darling Scenario

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Vague Yandere behavior, Robot gaining sentience, Implied torture, Implied continuous death, Sadism, Disassociation (?).

"It takes some getting used to, but I'm sure you're capable of it."

The voice is mechanical yet feminine. You don't even remotely feel like yourself in the current moment. That and you couldn't discern who was talking to you.

"What...?"

You manage to croak out what seems like a question. A voice that sounds like yours crackles out from what you think is you. Why does everything feel so fake?

"See what I mean? You're so disoriented it's amusing. Yet, testing can't continue until you get used to your more mechanized body."

For some reason you feel as though you should be anxious. Even though that feels right you for some reason can't comprehend such an emotion right now. You feel strangely empty of all emotions except confusion.

Even then that feels so very faint.

"Mechanized body? You...."

Your voice trails off. Yes, your voice was the one that crackled. Panic theoretically would be coursing through your body. Except, from what you're hearing....

"Robotic body if that explains things. To perform better testing, I can't have you dying on me like humans do."

Robot... no wonder you couldn't feel much.

You weren't human anymore.

"As you probably lost your memories during the process, I am Glad0s. The one who will be testing you for the sake of science. You are the finished project of an experiment to make a human an AI. Luckily I had the instructions... on hand."

Glad0s paused before saying 'on hand', as though she was trying to recall something. Although her pause was quickly glossed over when you felt something move. The table-like structure you were held on moved upwards.

Where you saw Glad0s, a bot connected to the ceiling in a circular room.

"Good Morning, or night, time is relative in this facility. Especially with your current condition. You should only have one thing to worry about."

"What's that?"

"Testing, it's what you're meant to do just like you were before my little experiment."

You couldn't do much but listen. The orange 'eye' of Glad0s scans you slowly before backing off.

"I will admit, I think I've outdone myself. A metal body perfect for testing. One that can even be repaired after being pulled apart."

The clasps that held your body release, causing you to fall on foreign feet to the ground. You try to regain your balance in front of Glad0s, eyes trying to take in your new surroundings.

Everything felt so new.

"Good. Your balance looks fine. Soon we can proceed with testing."

You try walking. While it doesn't feel natural, you notice you're moving. A good start, you guess.

"What was I before?"

Glad0s doesn't respond at first, before turning to you.

"It no longer matters. What matters now is the future."

You feel her response was rather cryptic. For now you choose to get used to your new body. All while Glad0s watches closely.

"...I do believe you'll have even more promise than before. Well done. It's time we start."

A metal claw grabs you at the sides, pausing your movement.

"It will be a treat to watch you. Your struggles, your success, maybe even your continuous demise. Even if you're damaged, only I can fix you."

You stare helplessly at Glad0s when more claws attach to your limbs.

"I will be sure to put you back together as you were always my favorite subject."

There's pressure, a pulling in your limbs. While emotions are faint, there's one rather prominent.

Fear.

"We'll have so much fun, just you wait."

[poguestvff]

CALL ME BACK P. 2 — JJ MAYBANK

in which, JJ and Y/n finally reconcile whilst sat on the bathroom floor

taglist | masterlist | 1.8k words

warning(s): very small descriptions of wounds, angst if you squint, fluff, for the most part, and nothing else i dont think. she/her pronouns part one !!!

The ringing of the phone beside her hadn't made y/n budge instantly. She wasn't expecting a call, her parents knew where she was and who she was with, her friends knew where she was and who she was with. she didn't exactly think there was a reason for a phone call so she let it ring. When a soft ding followed it, the boy beside her let out a sigh.

She raised from the bed, sitting up as she stretched her arms above her head. Y/n picked up her phone from the small table as she noticed the photo she had tried posting finally went through, the tagging of Topper's account making his phone go off as well. She swiped down to the notification center, finding a voicemail from JJ. Her heart seemed to sink within her chest momentarily. She hadn't seen that name in a couple of days, hadn't come in contact with him in a couple of weeks.

It wasn't something she wanted, it was something she needed. Something they needed; Space from one another. She should've seen it coming, hurdling at her at a rapid pace since the time they'd began dating, but she ignored just about every sign until it was right in front of her. She never blamed him, she never would blame him. Y/n understood he had a troubled time showing affection, he was her best friend after all, she knew him in and out, there was no reason to not hold a candle to his name.

Seeing his name made a mountain of things run through her head. Questions upon questions on whether she should listen but a gut feeling made her decision final as she lifted the device to her ear. "Uh, hey. Hey, Y/n/n." She could hear the shakiness, the sound of hesitance that wavered within his voice. "I don't know why I called... Yes, I do. I just really need someone right now and—and everyone's gone. I didn't know who to call except you. Just... just if you get a minute call me back." Then the line went silent.

She looked over to Topper, the boy sleeping sound beside her on his stomach previously though now he lay, staring right back at her. "Was that maybank?" He asked in a groggy tone, a yawn following as he rubbed at his eyes. She hummed, pushing her legs over the side of the bed. "Why did he call?"

"I uh... he didn't say." she said in a low, confused tone, holding the phone in her lap. She couldve called him back, she probably should've. But she didn't know how she'd react if she heard his voice and have to listened to his pained tone again. She typed out several different messages, all in preparation to send but she couldn't decide on which one immediately.

"It's too early, just go back to sleep." Topper said, pulling lightly at the back of her shirt. She looked over her shoulder to him, seeing a tired smile on his face that she didn't reciprocate. "What?"

"I really have to go, Top." She told him as he let out a sigh, turning over on to his back to stare at the ceiling. "He needs me—"

"Just like how Pope needed you to come to dinner the other day or like how Kiara needed your help to chose an outfit."

She clicked her teeth, shaking her head as she stood, setting the phone on the bed. "Don't be an ass." She muttered, grabbing her hoodie from the floor as she threw it over her head. "This is different."

"Tell me how it's different."

"It's JJ! That's how it's different." She exclaimed, hands tossing up before settling at her hips. "If he needs someone and I'm the person he calls, it's not for a dinner date and it's not fashion advice. it's because he genuinely needs someone."

She wasn't quite sure why Topper was so upset over this. they weren't dating, they were just close friends. Friends who spent the night together, watching comedy movies until they cried of laughter. Nothing more, she didn't doubt that for a second. Especially when she knew even when she did these things with JJ, there was always the happy, bubbly feeling within her that didn't feel the same with Topper.

And so the boy rolled his head over to her, fingers thumping against his chest. She couldn't tell what was going on in his head. He hadn't looked angry and there wasn't a frown on his face. It almost looked like he was expecting this, expecting her to defend JJ, tooth and nail. "Then go, y/n."

He looked like he had more to say, like he was biting his tongue, but if he had, he kept those thoughts to himself. "I will." She said, grabbing her phone and her keys, placing them in her back pocket to leave the thornton house.

She sat in the drivers side, pulling her phone from her pocket as the second she'd opened it, JJ's contact was still there. She still hadn't decided on what to send and so she finalized her messaging that she was on the way, sending that she was on her way and a heart. Which, ironically, was the same heart, once again, that they had sent weeks ago before for the last time in their last and final text conversation.

Driving the direct route that she'd known to the chateau had made her stomach feel unnerved. She’d recognized every turn, every stop sign, and the dirt road leading up to the plot. Finding that the front door was not properly closed, clearly slammed as she remembered that the screen was missing a screw causing it to need to be closed slow. The creaky door made someone in the house move as Y/n entered. "JJ?" She asked, making her way further into the home. "Jay, it's just me."

Another noise came from the bathroom as she moved around the corner, seeing JJ sat on the floor. The back of his head was against the wall and his eyes were closed though soft tear streaks shined across his cheeks from the way the light hit them. He opened his eyes finally, only side eyeing Y/n as she stood at the doorway. "i'm sorry."

"Don’t even think about apologizing." She said, pushing his feet back lightly to open the bottom cabinet, finding the medicinal items she needed. She sat in front of him, her knees digging into the hard wood floor below them. She could feel his eyes on her every move while she poured the alcohol onto a small hand towel. "This is gonna sting."

"I know." He replied, a sad smile coming on her face as she began to clean up the small cuts on his cheeks and the split lip. Her opposite hand held his chin lightly, dragging the towel lightly over his skin. She avoided all eye contact, he knew that for a fact as his eyes darted around her face.

She sat back on her ankles as she pointed at his shirt. He nodded, arms raising though wincing in the process as she rushed to his aid, helping him pull the dirty tee from over his head. The bruises that had become more prominent in the time of him waiting on the floor had caused for a heavy feeling to settle in her chest but she didn't say a thing, continuing to work in silence to help ease his pain just enough, leaving at one point to grab a cold beer from the fridge to place against his abdomen since there wasn't a single thing in the freezer other than the quarter filled ice tray.

"So...you and Topper." He said as she tilted his head to the side to clean the blood from the side of his jaw. She gave him a rather chagrined glare. "Sorry, just looking out."

"You don't have to look out anymore." She mumbled as he frowned. "And no... Topper and i— never." she cut herself off.

He went silent for a second, feeling the way her short nails scratched at the side of his cheek lightly. "You’re wrong." he said, suddenly, in Y/n's opinion as she gave him a confused look. "i always have to look out for you. like... like how you're doing right now."

"That’s different." She said for the second time that day.

"You wanna tell me how?"

She sighed, placing her hands in her lap as she sat back. "It just is, JJ. I’m sitting here cleaning your stupid... wounds like old times. This is nothing new."

"And because you and topper's friendship is new, it's different?" he asked. She placed her hands over her face, letting out a low groan against them. "It it's different because we're exes? Because you and Topper dating shouldn't be any of my concern now? News flash, you and Topper even remotely being friends was one of my concerns when we were friends."

She moved her hands from her face, staring at him. "No. what? No, what are you talking about? I didn't even come here to argue about topper, I don't get why it's even a topic right now." she said, her voice faltering near the end before she began leaning forward again to place a bandaid over his cheek.

"Because you know..." he trailed as she didn't even bother stopping. "You’re not... his."

"So what? I’m yours, is that what you're insinuating?" she asked, collecting the trash into her hand.

He didn't answer immediately, fiddling with his fingers in his lap instead. "Yeah." He mumbled. it was clear to him that she had not expected that answer. She stopped, pulling back again, so they could look directly at one another. "I didnt just call you because I could, I called you cause I needed you. I couldve called anyone but I called you because you know me best and i know you best. I know you well enough that you'd drop whatever you were doing for me. That's selfish, yes, but I needed you. Not want, need. A want would be that i want you back."

He was right because that's exactly what she did. And she knew him well enough to see the way he suck his shoulders just slightly in fear of what she'd say next. What she did next. Y/n's hands moved to rest on both of his cheeks, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his forehead before hugging him to her chest. "It didn't work out the first time." She told him in a lower tone.

"That was a trial run, i know what not to do." It was a joke, she knew. He had terrible timing. She heard the emphasis on the ‘I’, implying that he was the only one who made mistakes with the relationship. She let out a very minimal laugh at this, shaking her head at his antics.

She pulled back, running her thumb over the bandaid on his cheek. "We know what not to do." She correct him, placing a gentle kiss to his lips that he returned.

And within that moment, They both knew they were neither a want or need for one another. They were both.

[logically-asexual]

im so annoyed about this whole remus and logan thing i can’t stop thinking about it. so a long ramble under the cut.

i finally am being able to put into words what bothers me about logan’s character development, particularly him vs the dark sides.

first of all, virgil. virgil had a whole season for his development that was kind of natural and credible. he is a nuisance in different ways, thomas recognizes he has anxiety and looks for ways to cope, which logan learns to bring up later, then virgil keeps causing trouble but makes some good points sometimes, then thomas decides to accept him for the good he brings and they all manage better. all this happens within episodes that aren’t always about anxiety. they SHOW us how the sides’ perception of him and his character have changed through the stories, instead of lecturing us about it.

with janus they kind of attempted the same thing but with a speedrun of three episodes that crammed everything together with little plot. in fact the plot is just an excuse to make every single step of janus’s developement happen, and this progress with janus is the center of the episodes. at least there is some plot, but its not as natural, we don’t see thomas struggle with him casually, we don’t see logan or patton learning information about how to deal with him. its not how a normal person would go through this. but we do see different stages of his acceptance and we see all the sides learning new things about janus gradually.

but then with remus they just pressed literally everything in one video and all the learning thomas would have to do about him and dealing with him that he did with virgil in an entire year happens in?? 40 minutes? because he (logan) somehow already knew everything and he just had to remind himself (patton and virgil) of it?

that’s how i see the dark sides’ development (?). now logan.

with virgil you could assume logan took note of what Lilly said in that first video, then logan and had thomas research about it and find strategies to later use them when they were necessary. as if Taking on Anxiety was a first step with learner’s wheels and then My Negative Thinking was thomas being able to repeat the process on his own. it makes sense. first someone teaches you and then you do it independently. you can believe there was a learning process with Logan’s help right there, beginning with Logan (and thomas) not knowing something and then researching (between videos), understanding it, to finally accepting it.

after the debate logan was still neutral about virgil, and was pushed to reflect more about his role until he disappeared, to finally come to the realization of why he was necessary, by remembering a small fact he learned while researching strategies (the yerkes dodson curve). that one isnt a streategy, so makes sense that logan just saved the info and didnt completely internalize it until it became useful. thomas learned what he was told to and then used it when the situation required it.

but with janus and remus thomas has to figure it all out on his own. except he doesn’t, because Logan already knew everything. he already knows what the dark sides represent, every single thing they encompass, he knows what the studies say about the problems they cause, he has understood, accepted, and internalized everything before the videos even start!! and then its only him telling the rest of the sides what he already learned on his own? he learned all this with the rest not being present or without it causing any emotion whatsoever? how can logan memorize all this stuff if thomas used to be indifferent towards it? you learn through connection with your emotions. it mAKES NO SENSE that logan knows all this.

also logan is defensive and gets frustrated easily. thats essential to his character. and you could see he was annoyed and bothered by anxiety in the first season. anxiety got in his way sometimes so logan also didn’t want him around at the beginning.  WHEn did logan have this development of suddently not caring at all what the dark sides do? not caring at all how remus affects thomas’s productivity while when roman does it he goes into screaming matches and even throwing stuff!!. it is stated that he does have feelings no matter how much he denies it, , then why doesn’t he feel anything At. All. when confronted by remus? why is he so calm around him? when did he learn to deal with him?

even worse: logan went through a whole arc of accepting virgil, just like the rest of them, but he still can’t even deal with Roman and Patton with whom he interacts literally every video?? he is so affected by them everytime they do something irrational, gets angry, and starts yelling about what does and doesn’t make sense. he says he doesn’t have this problem with remus because his ideas shouldn’t have an impact on thomas if they don’t let them. but when and how did he learn this? how does he know intrusive thoughts are different from other thoughts thomas has that he, as logic, doesn’t like?

logan said in the video its bad to try too hard to make sense of remus’s contributions. that sounds like something LOGIC would do. try too hard to make sense of him until (with experience and research) he realizes it is impossible and gets them nowhere, and also would end up hurting thomas more in the long run. then why can’t we see this development? how does he JUST. KNOW? how does he know before the duke is introduced what will and wont hurt thomas if this is the first time ever that thomas is hurt by him?

i can stay here complaining all day honestly. there’s so much logan as rational thinking, reason, logic, of a person (who doesn’t have any experience with therapy or believe in it, apparently) could have gone through while learning about dark sides of your personality. they dont have to show it on camera if they think they already showed enough of this process for virgil! but somehow imply that this development happened, and not just have logan suddenly be this perfect all knowing  entity that knows exactly what to do before it happens. i think logan lecturing them about intrusive thoughts for 20 minutes was a lazy decision, no matter how much work it took to write those dialogues. its lazy because it doesn’t fit with the storytelling style they chose to make Sanders Sides with, but they didn’t take the time to figure out a way to make it fit.

im going off again.again i can do this all day. but im going to stop now. sigh.

[wizkiddx]

worst case scenario part 3

umm so, never ever intended it to be this long but here we are. again this is v dark so please please read the warning!! also [and obvs] this is very medically inaccurate and just a work of my head aha

[part 1] [part 2]

warning: mentions of death / hospital / mentions of childhood abandonment too- please don't read if this could affect you <3

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His heart was thundering in his chest, so much so it drowned out all other sounds making all the doctors words fade into the background. Conciously, he really was trying to listen to what the doctor was saying; consciously he knew she was trying to prepare him to see Y/n; consciously he knew she knew he wasn’t okay. But really? It didn’t matter, and as they drew closer to his fiancé Tom felt an urgent sense of relief purely know she was there. She was there and she wasn’t dead…yet. 

Only two people were allowed to go up, just because the nature of the ward - everything was meticulously controlled, including the comings and goings of visitors. If you’ve never been in an ICU it’s a pretty hard environment to describe. Really, it’s just another hospital ward, with capacity of about 20 beds. Each bed has much more equipment surrounding that the average and a nurse is stationed per patient, monitoring every possible variable that the machienes are measuring, so any trend (either positive or negative) can be identified at the earliest point. Though in everyones head, it seems as though ICU is a common place ending up for some unfortunate sod when something bad happens, it’s actually really rare for someone to be so ill and dependant on medicine to maintain normal body functioning. Only the most severe trauma, infection of the most dangerous microorganism, surgery of such high stakes normally make an appearance on the ward. And ,on average, between 8-20% patients that are admitted to an ICU never make it out. 

And those grim figures were unignorable to anyone. As soon as you walk through the doors, the atmosphere is intense and ineffable. It’s not spoken, but is so incredibly morbid it makes anyone shiver. 

Dom felt this, squeezing his sons shoulder as he followed Tom and the doctor, just a pace or so behind them. Having offered to go with Tom, whilst Harrison took Nikki to see the baby, Dom was now feeling just as clueless as his son did. Except he was actually listening to what the doctor was trying to warn them about and it scared him. The three, made it to the door and with a swipe of her ID card the doctor admitted the Holland men in. Gratefully, none of the staff took any notice of who was walking in, they were much too busy for that - Dom was incredibly relieved, had someone recognised Tom when he was in this state, god knows what would’ve happened.

The doctors pace was with purpose, perhaps so that the two couldn’t spend too long ogling the other patients in the beds - who all looked almost unhuman with the amount of tubes and wires coming out and into them. But then, she slowed up, halting infront of a bay about 5 or 6 down the ward. Spinning on her heel and with a subtle nod to momentarily release the nurse from her post at Y/n’s bedside, to give them a bit of privacy, she looked at the two men. 

“You can touch her, just be gentle with the wires.”

Shellshocked and terrified, Tom was frozen those 2 metres away from the bed barely able to see her face over all the equipment. Yet undoubtedly, it was his finance’s delicate visage lying on the white pillow, with a thick white mouthpiece and tube covering her mouth and stuffed into her nose. Not able to move, both Dom and Dr Goodwell sensitively waited - it was an adjustment to say the least, seeing someone you knew so well look so different. With quiet tears starting to roll down his eyes, Tom eventually started to inch toward the bedside, taking his time to try and absorb everything of this frankly ridiculous situation. He couldn’t get over how, even considering it all, above her nose it just looked like Y/n. Like she was asleep in their bed, eyes closed as if she had once again  fallen asleep infront of a random Netflix movie Tom had bugged her enough to watch in bed. And it was, ever so slightly comforting. That was still her, that was still the love of his life lying there. And she was still alive - which given the last few hours, was enough. 

Reaching the bedside, Tom naturally reached out and stroked the top of her head delicately, pulling into place a few rogue strands that seemed to have a mind of their own - she had always hated when her hair got frizzy. The picture had Tom’s mind casting back to their first holiday, a serene if quick few days in Fiji-  though Y/n didnt know this , that holiday had been one of the most important times in their relationship for Tom. Until then, given the nature of his job, the couple had only ever managed brief periods together. They spent time together as and when they could in between Tom’s busy schedule but it was never as long as they’d like. Somehow though, he’d managed to squeeze a few days away to surprise Y/n with the trip. 

It was everything he’d ever hoped it would be and more. In fact it was then Tom was oh so sure he would be spending the rest of his life with her. This thought crossed his mind on the last morning, when he had for once woken up before Y/n - her head mere cms away from his on the pillow. Just like now, her hair had been all over the place and her sparkling green eyes locked shut. Contrastingly though, in Fiji the sight had made him smile softly; now it just made him cry again. 

“Would you like a minute alone Mr Holland? We will just wait outside?” Not even turning round to properly respond to the doctor, Tom just nodded violently, not taking his eyes off his fiancé - waiting till he heard his Dad and the doctor leave the bay; then the curtains be completely drawn to a close, before he shakily cleared his throat to whisper.

“Hey darling… you um-you’ve scared me shitless today… and… and I’m supposed to be the dramatic one in the relationship.” Chuckling wetly, Tom clasped his other hand in Y/n’s - still mindful of the IV port coming out of the top of her wrist. Not that he was expecting any sort of response, yet the lack of her squeezing his hand back still had his heart sink. “Look I…I love you so bloody much and I really need you to get better okay? You’ve never listened to me before but I really am begging you to now, I just.” Swallowing thickly, he shut his eyes momentarily and delicately rested his forehead on hers - his touch feather light. Just needing to feel her. “I just really need you and I really love you., okay?” 

Unsurprisingly he didn’t get a response. The rhetorical question hung in the air alone, safe the mechanical whir of the ventilator and various chimes of the machines and monitor, till his Dad came in. Grasping and squeezing his shoulder lightly, Dom provided the stimulus for his son to unfold from over the bed, standing upright, as both men just took in the sight of Y/n lying there for a minute or two. 

“I need her Dad. I-I-“

“I know Tom.” Speaking so quietly it was barely audible, Dom’s eventual agreement at what Tom was saying was in a way a relief. Haz and his mum had both either been saying or implying that they would be okay no matter what - which came from a good place but was so infuriating. Because god forbid, if this situation got worse Tom knew it wouldn’t be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. So his Dad’s simple acknowledgment meant a lot, causing Tom to turn round and embrace his slightly shorter father. 

Dr Goodwell silently watched the exchange for a short while and once the men eventually pulled away she stepped forward to give some more information. She went through what all the biggest and scary looking tubes and wires were doing for Y/n, before explaining the next steps. 

“Now as I said before we are sedating her at the moment, while we wait and see if she gets any complications from the surgery that are better treated while she is asleep. By this afternoon we will have a clearer idea and by that point we may choose to withdraw that sedation. It’s important that you are aware though that she might not wakeup immediately. Sometimes some people that have suffered similarly to your fiancé will be unconscious for a while in what I’d presume you’ve heard of as a ‘coma’. Now it’s not as dramatic as you see on TV shows, it’s just Ms Y/l/n’s brain giving her body a chance to recover. It’s often a longer process, which I know is something you don’t want to hear, but I have to be honest.” The doctor was stern but in a softer and from-a-caring-place. “These patients are suggested to possibly recover quicker if they have a steady support network behind them, which it seems like she does. That means that you need to look after yourself so you can help her sir, especially in what could be a long process. It’s not going to be helpful for Yn if you’re killing yourself trying to be here all the time… It seems like Y/n already has quite a big group of you here for her, so please remember you’ve got all of her care team here and everyone else to help you too….Does that make sense sir?”

“Tom” His Dad, in a gentle but firm warning tone, urged Tom to speak and to listen. Properly listen. 

“Yeh… I-yeh It’s just all a lot right now.”

“Of course… and we promise that if anything changes with her condition, you will be phoned straight away. You are welcome to stay as long as you want - the only rules are two at a time, no flowers, sign in and out and then sanitise your hands pretty excessively. If you need anything, Ms Y/l/n’s nurse will be your first port of call.”

“Thanks for everything” Dom nodded in a gracious manner, which the doctor seemed to massively appreciate - apparently, for the job they do not receiving a hell of a lot of thanks. 

“I’ll pop back in a little bit.”

And for a couple of hours everything everything felt like a bit of an anticlimax, nothing happened, not a lot changed. Just Tom and Dom sat next to Y/n’s bed in silence; Harrison and Nikki downstairs with the baby, till Dom got a phone call from Nikki asking them to meet at the neonatal unit  - which was limited by visitor numbers unlike the ICU. Thinking it’d be simple, the elder man gained Tom’s attention with a call of his name, explaining they should go down to meet up. 

“I’m not going down there.”

“Son, I know you’re worried by Y/n isnt going anywhere right now. The doctors said they’d call you if anything happens.”

“It’s not-“ Tom stopped himself, biting his tongue and looking away from his Dad. “I just don’t want to go down there.” Slowly, Dom was more and more realising Tom’s thought process and honestly… it scared him. In the hopes this was just a big misunderstanding he offered a different option - hoping Tom would equally refuse that. Dom suggested going down to the cafe instead, which most unfortunately Tom agreed to. It wasn’t leaving Y/n that was the issue, it was being near the baby. 

Tom’s daughter. Unnamed and apparently abondoned by both parents. 

Anyhow, Dom resigned to playing into Tom’s choice, perhaps Nikki and Harrison would be able to swing him round, to see sense. It still took Tom getting the nurse to triple check they had his correct number on record , just in case, before Dom could tear him away from the bed. Fortunately the pair found a quiet and secluded corner table, where Tom was still yet to be recognised, while Nikki and Haz found them too. 

What followed was Tom answering all his mum and Harrison’s questions about Y/n’s condition, in a blunt and emotionless manner - without Tom returning fire by asking any questions at all about his beautiful little baby girl. Eventually Nikki braved it, someone had to bring it up. 

“Well it sounds like littles going to change for a while… maybe you should head home for a bit? You’ve been up half the night and you look shattered love. You don’t have to go back to yours… you could stay in your old room for a bit?” Tom being by himself at the moment sounded like the most incredibly stupid idea ever, Nikki was offering it as a choice - when in reality there was only one option.

“Maybe later this evening I will? Just don’t want to leave her alone yet.”

“It’s already 7 love, you’ve not eaten all day, you got to look after yourself too.” Harrison and Dom sat awkwardly while Nikki tried to delicately encourage Tom into what was the only sensible plan, watching him nurse the small hot choclate in both his palms. Time really had lost all meaning at this point, for him it felt both years since he’d first arrived with Y/n and at the same time barely 10 minutes ago. It felt weird. 

“We can take shifts? If-if you want someone with her I mean… I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if it means you head back to your parents.” Harrison really truly didnt mind, in fact he sort of wanted to. He wanted to see Y/n’s face definitely alive, wanted to feel reassured by the monitors. Shockingly, Tom slowly nodded his head, surprising everyone with his lack of argument. None of them could work out whether it was a good thing him not putting up much arguement ; either he was heeding everyones advice of taking care of himself - or he had just given up. Harrison, as much as he didn’t want to, was favouring the latter. 

“Okay” Nikki declared optimistically “So maybe you and Harrison go up so you can say good night to Y/n, then we can all go and pick up the baby?” She opened the plan to the floor, allowing for input but got nothing - except maybe Tom’s jaw unconsciously tensing uncomfortable at the latter part of her statement. Dom noticed. 

Not one noticed but knew what it meant. His son blamed his granddaughter. His son, right now in that moment, hated the unnamed and totally helpless baby girl. 

part 4?

[kalofi]

Bro just the way u like. Draw the cast it makes me so happy its unreal....can u pls spill sum hcs u got for the crew?

AH THANK YOU !!!!! um im rly bad at coming up with hcs they usually just happen when i draw but i’ll try to sum up the silly little thoughts i have about the cast !! about two for each :)

gordon

kinda canon, but he just says stuff. like most of the time without thinking. so sometimes he comes off as insensitive but he just does NOT have a brain to mouth filter. this has gotten him in a lot of trouble but also can b rly fucking funny. some old jerk scientists will be like oh dr freeman didnt you wear that exact shirt yesterday(smug) and gordon without looking up from the photocopier and only half paying attention will b like well u wear that same face everyday and i don’t hear anyone else complaining. and then the other scientist will try to hold in their tears as they walk away. gordon does not give this a second thought ❤️

extremely smart but also just so dumb. u know what i mean. also he loves fishing but hates hiking. he also doesn’t know the first about how cars work and has no idea how to differentiate between brands or models. gordon “help girl i don’t know what breeds of cars there are” freeman.

benry

me n cecil (@/mint-bees) were talking about this once but benry usually just dresses comfortably cause it’s easy but if they want to dress up they WILL. extremely good fashion sense which surprises everyone cause like. benry can dress?? the same benry who wears tuxedo shirts unironically?? THAT benry??? but they just wear shittyass clothes cause they find em funny and also they just like em

benry is so bad with animals. like they try to be friendly but most creatures are scared of them lol. sunkist is the only dog who would even get near benry and that took a couple months of interaction to achieve. don’t be mistaken tho sunkist wasn’t afraid of benry she just didn’t like them lol

tommy

TOMMY MY FRIEND TOMMY. pls excuse me projecting onto him but tommy loves jewelry. collecting it, wearing it, etc. he’s just super into it and he especially likes metal-type jewelry cause of the clinking sound they make when they hit each other. his favorite designs of jewelry are fun litle things like fruit or candy or just miscellaneous objects. he finds them super cute!! also, the brighter the color the more drawn to it he will b. tommy is like a crow in which he sees a neon or shiny color and his eyes zero in on it and he needs it now now NOW!!!!!!

this is based off that one comic i made but tommy can just. consume stuff without actually...eating it?? like if he wants to eat a breadroll he can just hold it in his hand and like. absorb its energy. from an outsiders perspective it just looks like that object is slowly phasing out of existence. in retrospect it’s kind of a useless ability and tommy likes the stimulation of chewing so he doesn’t use it that much except as a fun party trick ❤️

also tommy was adopted by gman but he still has powers cause gman just passed them onto him. think all might passing his quirk onto midoriya but without the hair eating. tommy spent time in his childhood after being adopted trying to hone his skills but he’s still a little unsteady to this day. in that way he’s kinda more dangerous than gman sometimes cause he can’t completely control his powers

bubby

i think this is kind of agreed on within the fandom but bubby loves cooking. black mesa food was ASS. utter ASS. so once he gets out he goes all out with experimenting on what he does and doesn’t like. they’re pretty bad at cooking at first but they’re pretty stubborn so eventually they get it!!

i feel like it’s funny if bubby was one of those ‘oh in my day-‘ old ppl but like also he likes to b pretty up-to-date with whatevers currently popular. hence the ‘NUT UP OR SHUT UP!’ and ‘i believe the kids say you pogged it!’ gordon hears bubby use the word lit once and has to sit down for a moment to process.

also unrelated but bubby only likes two video games and they are tetris and pac-man. this is simply bc years ago i asked my mom what video games she liked and she was like ‘i hate video games the only one i like is pac-man’ and i thought it was the funniest shit. me n my siblings still make fun of her for that

coomer

DR COOOMEEERRR !!! we all know dr coomer is extremely impulsive if he wants smth he WILL get it by any means necessary. he is very bad at thinking of long term consequences, he just sees the product of the now and if he likes it he will go for it. the reason he allowed himself to b cloned by black mesa even tho it was extremely new and unsafe technology was bc he was like wow! that is just so cool! and didn’t give it any thought beyond that. i feel like the reason dr coomer has so many body modifications(power lungs, extendo arms, etc) is bc of the long term affects on the body of the cloning process. like yeah in the long run it may have caused for him to need to get a replacement heart but also: clones 😼

this has been said b4 but dr coomer is p bad at comforting ppl. like don’t get me wrong he tries but most of the time when trying to comfort someone he’ll just go off on tangents. in that sense he’s bad at it cause he usually doesn’t know what to say but also surprisingly it helps bc most of the time he says the most absurd thing that just cause ppl to. snap out of it. at least for awhile.

[more-than-a-gentleman]

How Nami acts depending on who she is with at the time...

To be honest, I had this as a draft for quite some time but with the release of the new chapter I decided to post it now. So, In honor of Nami’s magnificent moment in chapter 995, this post is Nami centric.

Nami has been a really interesting character since the start. Unlike characters like Luffy, Zoro or Ussop who are almost “Monotone”, pretty much act the same the whole time, she changes the way she acts or thinks depending on who she is with at the current moment.

Another main point to mention is that when it comes to the Captian, all strawhats are the same in terms of having absolute faith in him. Whether they think that from the start or during the situation, the absolute trust must be there.

Ussop in Alabasta, Zoro in Thriller Bark, Sanji in Zou and now Nami in Wano Chapter 995. There are more and many others already posted these moments. I will do one for Chapter 1000 pretty soon.

But when it comes to the crew members between themselves, things change... some are closer than the other and so on...

So I decided to analyze Nami’s behavior with members that she was in danger with to see how she acts and what her thought process/ emotions could be... and this time two characters stand out that bring the best out of her.

1- The Captian Luffy

When she is with Luffy, she tries to be the “brains” she knows Luffy is an idiot so she always tries to think of ways to give him an advantage for him to work with.

In skypiea, first he tells her to head back to the ship because she is in the way, and she does just that without thinking twice or looking back. But then in the Ark, she fails to find a solution to give Luffy an edge on Enel, and her whole thought process is how to escape. She could’ve held her clima tact and did something with it, but while Luffy was on board Oda decided to make Nami sit back and watch even against an extremely powerful opponent Enel (cuz if they were fodder then there is no need for her to fight to begin with).

In WCI, this time she was able to provide support to Luffy by making the biscuits wet and brittle, but she did not fight. She went into kingbaum’s mouth because it was a safe place.

In summary, Nami wants to provide support to Luffy by being smart and from afar, enough to stay out of the fight. Like the others, she knows Luffy is tough therefore she doesnt worry much about him (I am not saying at all, of course she does worry, but only in extreme conditions like any other member)

2- Zoro

With Zoro, she does her best not to be involved in any way. She does not hesitate to disappear.

In Whiskey Peak, she orders Zoro to do all the fighting for her while she does nothing.

In Alabasta, once the enemy appeared, even though there was a woman, she disappeared instantly. She left them for Zoro and ran away.

In Fishman Island, after hearing about Arlong and Jimbei from Hordy. She vanished leaving Ussop and Brook with Zoro to fight. Camie even asks if it was okay and Nami didnt mind at all.

In summary, Nami does not want any part to do with Zoro’s fights.

3- Ussop

Of course... our famous duo. With Ussop, they are always scared together. They expect things from each other at the same time. When in the clear, they succeed because they are comfortable and safe, but when in danger they fail because of fear.

In Little Garden, basically that moment explains everything. They want the other to be dependable.

In skypiea, we have the most famous duo fight, where they are both scared as hell and fail miserably against Enel.

In Punk Hazard, we have two moments where when they are alone they failed against Ceasar and Ussop was disappointed to see Nami who was in Sanji’s body. Then we have when they were far away and safe, so they were calm and collected and their teamwork worked.

In summary, Nami with Ussop will be comfortable and effective if they were safe and far but weak and scared when in the frontline.

The sad thing is... like I said I had this post before ch.995 but I wish they proved me wrong now😅.

4- Chopper

With Chopper, she acts in two ways. She tries to be the mature one and tell Chopper what to do, and other times in a pinch she acts like she does with Ussop.

In Enies Lobby and Water 7, their moments are not like the others (in term of danger level) but we can see she is telling him what to do.

In Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, she was terrified and metally weak. She was in no shape to fight.

In WCI, she is back to being the mature one by explaining to Chopper what to do.

In summary, Nami will try and keep her composure when she can, but loses it when things become dangerous.

5- Brook

With Brook, we didnt see much of Nami and Brook together a lot but basically he is a mixture of Luffy and Zoro. But Brook himself acts like Nami and Chopper when they are scared.

In Zou, she asks Brook to take care of the enemy. At first, he got rid of them but when they came back she sat back and watch. And she does mention that his company is more troublesome than his worth😂.

In summary, Nami would sit back and watch but will help if he get immobilized just like she would do with Luffy, Chopper and Robin because of DF abilities.

6- Franky

With Franky, I couldnt find a moment where she acts a specific way when he is around. I am aware of the moment she calls him “Big Bro” in Wano but it is not the same like being in frontline long enough with him for her to think or act a certain way.

Now, there is a reason I left these two characters to the end. This is what I mean when characters are closer to some than others.

7- Robin

With Robin, again we dont see them in the frontline much. Since back in Skypiea, they keep splitting up and Nami and Robin never stay in the same team.

There was the Davy back fight team, but it was a game not like the others.

In Wano, we can see that they depend on each other to keep watch of each other’s back.

In summary, this is expected since they are the only two women on the crew. Nami feels confident enough while depending on Robin for support and she would do the same.

9- Sanji

Unlike with Luffy, Nami never sat back and watched during major enemies. She always looked back and didnt want to leave. She knows Sanji uses his brain unlike Luffy so she never thought of using tricks and strategies. Whenever he was hurt or about to get hurt, she will pull out her clima tact without a second thought even if she was terrified seconds ago.

Unlike with Zoro, Nami never left Sanji behind on her own, he was always the one to tell her to go ahead. She forgets that she is on the frontline and doesnt run away. When he tells her to stay in a safe place she shows up anyway.

Unlike with Ussop, Nami never gets soo scared she becomes practically useless. She depends on Sanji but not entirely. She wants to but doesnt expect much from Ussop but she can count on Sanji everytime.

Unlike with Chopper, in dire situations she doesnt need to be the mature one since Sanji gets serious when he has to. She might ask for favors but it doesnt sound like an order like she does with Chopper, since she decided for him to be the temporary Captain of the small group when Luffy isnt around.

Unlike with Brook (Luffy, Chopper, Robin), she doesnt need to worry about him falling in the sea since he doesnt have DF powers. He doesnt cause her trouble during fights.

Similar to Robin, Nami always wants to stay side by side. She knows he will have her back and she wants to support him too. It never happened since HE never let it happen, since he doesnt want her to be in danger and get injured because of him.

We have seen time and time again that Nami considers herself weak and fragile. Yes, she does head to combat when she has to but she prefers not to. She wants to stay far, she wants the others to handle business.

But when it comes to anything to do with Sanji whether he is there or not... she somehow gets courage out of nowhere, she decides to head into the frontline on her own, she will claim that she is tough and strong. She forgets about far or close enemies

In summary, when Nami is with Sanji, she doesnt have to worry about anything except for ways to support him. She is at her strongest, bravest and most confident side.

What makes this interesting is when it comes to Robin, it is a given. As the only two women in the crew, that is to be expected, but why is Sanji the only one who is different in terms of bringing out the best of Nami? Why is he treated different than the other 2 monsters? Why is he treated different than all the other guys?

A quick note: I tried my best to include all Nami’s moments with the others (preferably alone) and re-read all of them but if I missed any then I am sorry about that😅. This here is why Nami is one of my favorite characters in One Piece, that is how I always saw Nami but if I made a mistake or overlooked something again I apologize but I doubt it will change what Nami’s character is about.

I dont know what will happen in the future (obviously) but until now, this has been the case. She might break one or maybe all the things I mentioned, but after 900+ of this right here, this has to mean something....

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Wilfords Demands: Who Do You Belong To?

Summary- 5.2 k. Curtis Everett x Y/N. Written for @mcudarklibrary​ Kink Challenge- April. You’ve been in Curtis care for a few weeks now. He has no hesitation in reminding you who you belong to. Warnings- Dub Con/Non Con situations, punishments treatment, drug and alcohol mentions. 

Chapter One- Just Another Prisoner / Masterlist 

“So Curtis, how are you liking your new girl?” Wilford asked curiously as he flicked some crumbs off his luscious red robe, frowning as he rubbed at what looked like a smudge, under his breath he complained. “Those fucking cleaners never do anything right. Useless the lot of them.” The older man chose to ignore it for now, turning back to Curtis sitting opposite of him, Claude pouring fresh tea into two delicate china mugs. “Isnt she something, as soon as I saw her on camera, I knew you would like her. Yes, shes a bit thin still, but get some meat on her, and she will have all those nice curves to keep you occupied.” 

Curtis nodded his thanks to Claude and reached to take the cup, contemplating what Wilford was talking about, you were rather lovely in your innocence. All Curtis had to still do was look at you a certain way, and your cheeks would turn pink and your glance would look away from him, sometimes a tiny whine would issue, making him grin. “Im liking her quite fine. She was an innocent you know? I was surprised.” Wilford winked over his cup while he added generous amounts of honey comb to his cup, swirling his cup a bit before taking a sip.

“I had hoped she would be, How the fuck I know, pretty little thing like that. I am a bit disappointed she isnt pregnant yet though, but in due time I know. I just get impatient.” 

Curtis kinda shrugged a bit, he never really cared what Wilford did with the kids they made him, but this time it kinda rubbed him the wrong way. He didnt seem to pick up on it, or chose to ignore it, falling into another subject that Wilford used them for. Entertainment for the front enders for a couple months a year, a sport. 

“Also, its about time for the games, and Im putting my goods on you Curtis, Do not disappoint. Once you get in that ring, murder the sons of bitches.” The true purpose of the games, weed out the weak. So far only three of the original group still survived, Curtis was one of them for his brutal approach to all of it. He was a survivalist first, and had no issue getting blood all over in the process.

“Yes I know, trust me, I dont want my ass fucking dead.” Curtis growled out and grew impatient, ready to get back to you. “We done shooting the shit Wilford, or you ready for this months supplies?” 

“God your always so fucking impatient to leave my company.” Wilford rolled his eyes and sighed as if hurt, Curtis just stared at him waiting for him to get on with it. “Okay, my boy... let me know what you want.” 

Curtis wasted no time, filling out his demands and leaving straight afterwards. There was only so much time he could stand being in that mans presence. His spirit uplifted a bit knowing he would be seeing you again. You were still quiet in his presence, trying to remain unnoticed, but he was always aware of your presence unlike any other woman he had ever been with. Sometimes he would draw out conversation from you. But your answers were usually short, clipped, or you shrugged not knowing how to answer. Seeing how you lived in the tail end all your life, there was simply things you didnt know about. That was okay, you would learn about these things soon enough. 

Opening the door and stepping in, you were curled in the seat near the window, a book resting on your knee and gaze out the window watching the speeding landscape. You jumped slightly when Curtis entered and pulled your legs up nervously to watch him. Always so observant his girl was. "You havent seem to gotten to far while I was gone." nearby he sat down some bags of stuff he brought back with him, the items he had asked for from Wilford.

Your fingers trail down the spine and you slide it to the table, shaking you head softly. "Cant concentrate Curtis." Wary was how you were of this man, who stalked around his room till he moved to sit on the edge of the bed nearby. "Hmmm, do you not like it?" How brow arched and a your voice rose in a rush, as you clutched at the book. "No no, t-thank you... Its not that." You didnt want to loose a gift he brought you. Already reading through the few he had, you had gotten bored being unable to leave the small room. Curtis had requested a book for you with Wilford, and as you were finding out, Wilford accommodated Curtis requests typically.

"I was tested again, and still negative... " your voice dropped, admitting to your distraction. At first the news would cause Curtis to curse, drag you back to bed to try again.

So your head dropped, waiting to be yanked onto the mattress, but these past few weeks, he changed. Sometimes your news didn't cause any reaction, he would leave you to what you were doing. You trembled a bit, waiting to see what today would bring.

Curtis isnt sure when it changed for him, that he actually liked this one, it was something more then what was required of him, having any interest in his charge. You, a little tail ender was so innocent in to what he did to you, that he found it endearing. Her little surprised mewls when he taught you some new sense gave him satisfaction. He patted his knee. “Come over here Y/N” 

The tension raised between the two of you when you hesitated, curling your hands together and your face wanted to defy him, he could see the flash in your eyes and the way your breathing flared your nose. Curtis arched a brow daring you to tell him no. Oh would you? He almost wanted you to, that primal part of him loved overpowering you beneath him. You were so defeated when he first got his hands on you, but he felt that you had a bit of fire somewhere still, it just needed to be ignited. 

After a few seconds though you went back to your resigned manner and unfolded your legs approaching him, moving to stand in between his spread thighs. “Dont worry about the negative, it doesnt always happen right away.” His fingers snapped at your pants buttons and slid them down with a jerk, your hand bracing against his shoulder to keep from loosing balance and lifting your feet to loose your pants. He pushed your shirt up. “Get rid of all this to.” 

Lifting your shirt and tossing it aside, that deep blush he admired so much spread down from your face and neck, flaring over your collarbone. His mouth smirked until he lashed his tongue over a nipple, teasing the other with pinching fingertips. “But how long till they get impatient Curtis?” you took a shuddering breath feeling the warmth of his mouth tease you to a peak, rubbing your thighs together as heat pooled faster then you expect it to in your core. “Im ready to be done and go back home.” He growled at this, biting enough for you to yelp, and try to pull away but his legs have you trapped in between them. 

“What makes you think your going back Y/N?” He growled deeply, whipping you around, and pulling you back into his lap with one muscled forearm circled around your waist. “I already told you, you were given to me to use.” your hands were grasping his forearm pressed around your midsection, and you whine softly at his words. “But once Im pregnant you wont want me in your space, why wouldnt they send me back till birth?” 

“Cause, Im keeping you. Open your mouth.” He demanded and grabbed a hold of your jaw, forcing your mouth to open, his other arm loosened around your waist and moved two fingers to your mouth.“suck, get them good and wet Y/N”  his fingers pressed against your tongue and you immediately started to suck on his digits. doing your best to do as he asked. “As I told you a few weeks ago, your issued to me for at least the next few years.” Shifting his legs to hook yours over his knees and spread his legs so your thighs spread apart wide for him, the rush of cooler air hitting your aroused flesh made you moan around his fingers pressing against your tongue. “Your here till your used up or Im tired of you.” His voice, was so final as he yanked his fingers out from your mouth, tracing your bottom lip with one of the drenched fingers. “And then your still not going back there Honey. He wont let you go back home” 

Before you could fully register what Curtis was telling you, he dropped his hand to your cunt, his fingers warm and wet from how you worked them traced your pussy lips, soft under his fingertips, his biting kiss on your neck was a stark contrast, making you attempt to pull away, but he once more clamped his arm around your waist to keep you in place, his long middle digit dipping in between the folds, tease your sensitive flesh. “N-never? even if I was useless to have children?” 

“No, never. Have you ever seen anyone return to the tail end? Your not an exception. Trust me... You could be in a worst place then with me.” Continuing to rub your cunt, circling your aroused bud but never quite touching when he would return to stroking and teasing her entrance with slight dips of his fingers, collecting your arousal to spread. “I am not the only man who does this, and plenty are cruel to there partners.” It was getting harder to focus on Curtis as he started finally touching where you ached, his arm tightening when you would arch and let your head fall back to his shoulder. Pressing his lips to your temple. “Curtis... Its,,,” 

“Feels good right? Most the time it will if Im doing my job right,” Assuring as he let two fingers fill your wet heated entrance, making you open your thighs wider, his own adjusting to help you keep them spread. You were panting, rocking your hips to meet his thrusting digits. If you werent so caught up in the moment, you would have been embarrassed of the squelching sound your wet cunt was making the faster he pumped his fingers. Your walls started to clench around him, and that little firey coil started to tighten in your lower belly. 

“M-most of the time?” You managed to utter, and Curtis chuckled while biting lightly on your earlobe. “Well your a temptation, this tight little body.” His fingers hooked when he said that, come along with me baby. He would stroke your walls to comply with his wishes, fighting against his hold, and you were crying out when you pushed back into his chest, locking and shaking, flooding his hand. “Wouldnt be hard for me to loose control and just fuck you into the mattress” 

Your thighs are trying pushing to close, aching from being stretched open, and fighting through your orgasm. He shoved you forward slightly to undo his pants, and you lean forward to brace your hands against your knees, your head dipping forward to catch your breath. It wasnt long you felt his cock pressing against your back. God you fucking hope he never lost control with you, You could barely handle him now, and everything he did was measured calculated. Curtis did nothing without giving it some thought, you knew this. 

Hands at your hips, lifted your ass enough so he could fit himself into your core, and eased you back, slowly so he inched in, making you stretch around him but it still made you hold your breath till you were full of him, every movement you made, made you groan, his thrusts were quick upward angled jabs, pressing deeper and you still braced your hands while arching your breasts forward, this angle was so fucking full, concentrating was impossible. There was just rushed thrusts and grinding your hips back down. 

Somewhere it registered his cussing against your neck, as his thrusts pressed forward longer in your clenching pussy. “Fuck your so good, just gonna fill you till your dripping with cum.” He grunted against the back of your neck, his fingers digging into your hips and started to move you faster, bouncing you, and you just rode it till he roared and warm jets of his cum started to fill you. Your channel flexed around his cock, milking him for the last of it, and you collapse back against him, covering your face with your hands and giving a soft sob from your second orgasm within a short time. 

Pulling himself from him, he swiped his fingers through your cunt and scooped his cum back into you, making you quiver slightly at the sensation. Curtis gave a possessive nip to your neck, and shifted your legs back to a close. Fuck the muscles ached, all you wanted to do was lay down, the muscles in your thighs screaming with a burn. Curtis tapped your thigh to stand. “Dont be letting that run down your leg Y/N,” You nod and go to stand, your legs shaking enough to look like you might wipe out, Curtis hands shot out and grasped your hips to draw you back and sit on the bed. “Probably need a moment to get your legs back.” 

Tucking himself back in his pants, he let you claim the bed and went to where he had ditched the bags he brought back from Wilfords. You dragged a blanket over your naked body and watched with curiosity as he pulled out some clothing for you, nicer then the stuff youve been wearing. “Whats that for?” you asked curiously. 

Curtis brought the skirt and top over to let you inspect them. “They are for you. There is a entertainment car, and I figured your ready to meet others. I trust you to remember who you belong to” Your eyes brightened at the idea of seeing others, even if they were front enders. “Hows your legs? If you can stand, were going in half an hour.” He took the rest of the bag and turning his back to you, stored away a few books Wilford gave him, a treat for you later if you got to bored and deserved them. Curtis hoped there would come a time where you wanted to please him, not had to please him. 

While he was doing this, you tested yourself, and gathered the clothing to your bare chest. “they are fine... I will go get ready Curtis.” You escaped quickly into the bathroom, easing the door mostly closed. You rubbed your face in the soft long sleeve, it was the softest thing you could remember feeling and when you tugged the clothing on, braiding your hair to sweep straight down your back well past your waist, you couldnt remember feeling this way, like you were being showed off,and you kind of liked it. Stepping out, your clear your throat a bit and Curtis looks up from where he had been reading the spot you left in your books. 

Fuck you look good. Curtis nods his approval, and you nervously pick at the shirt, biting back a grin in your excitement. A warm rush tingles Curtis seeing you so damn happy for the first time since he brought you back a book, and unlocking the door, he held it open for you, beckoning you to step out. Going to step out the door, your hand braced on the door frame as you peeked out, it was empty, which your heart sunk a little and with a gentle ease of Curtis’s hand in the small of your back, you step into the wide looking hallway. He slung his arm around your waist, a steady hold on your hip and in the belt loops of your pants, he led you towards the front, the way you were dragged down to his room. “Now you stay with me Y/N unless I tell you otherwise, understand? Your free to talk to people that are in this car, but remember your place. You are mine, if I find out you are disrespecting what we have going on, or me, you wont like the consequences.” 

“Yes Curtis” you reply, feeling your mouth go dry with nerves and anticipation, would you know anyone there? You hoped so, you were desperate to find out how your friends were in the tail end. You two reached a gate, and your bouncing a bit at his side, the music on the other side is thumping loud and you can see flashes of lights through the cracks. Curtis smiles a bit to himself at how obvious excited you are to get out of the room, but there are rules, and he had to be sure you knew them. Turning you to face him, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “Remember what I said, do you understand? do you have any questions before we go in?” 

You nod probably a little harder then you should and you glance at the door once more before back up to him. “Am I allowed to ask about the tail end if I see anyone I know? That wont make you upset with me?” 

Curtis thought about this for a few moments, it wouldnt hurt and you so desperately wanted to know, probably still had your hopes up about one day seeing your friends again. “You can, but dont expect to see anyone from before in there Y/N” His fist thumped against the metal door, and it popped open enough for Curtis to slide through and he took your arm, bringing you through. It wasnt quite as you remembered, but last time you came through, you were being dragged, and didnt exactly have time to admire the setting. This time you did though, and your eyes widened before you. 

People, gyrating all over each other, among the flashing lights above them, it was extremely distracting and made you want to shut your eyes. First the people were laughing and dancing, then they would turn and a clash of teeth and lashing of tongues inhaled one another in open mouth kisses, moving from one person to whoever was closest. You leaned more into Curtis, not wanting to get caught up in the orgy. It was something you didnt enjoy from him, and you knew you wouldnt like it here either. With a push of his hand, Curtis broke past the group, and the car opened up to show more people dancing, some with one another, some off poles placed in what looked like a seating area, people lazing around, high from the kronoles scattered in the sunken seating booths. Curtis led you past these as well until you two were near the other side, and he directed you to sit. “Just wait here, I will be back.” A simple nod was efficient enough for him, and he went to the small bar set up. 

“Kronoles, rum and coke?” The man asked Curtis while he pulled out to glass jars to pour the alcohol into. 

“Just the rum and coke.” Normally Curtis would part take in the kronoles, chase that mindless high that came with it, but not this time with you accompanying him. He would come back another time without you. The rum and coke though, rare treat, doing some calculations about the occasion for the rare indulgence. Wilford had announced it was new years. Collecting the drinks, he came back to where you were half in and out of your seat, curious to your surroundings. Twisting back into your seat, your nose wrinkled as you sniffed your drink, used to only water. “What is it?” 

“Try it and find out.” Was all he said, and you cautiously brought your mouth to the edge, taking a sip. It burned and was sweet at the same time, and you took another sip that stung its way down your throat. The dart of your tongue wasnt missed by Curtis, and his cock twitched at the very notion of how sweet your lips would look stretching around his shaft, your head tipped to meet him with your eyes rolling up to meet him. Fuck... It was gonna have to go on your list of necessary teachings. No it wouldnt benefit what you two were striving for, but it was a damn sweet thought, your mouth sucking him off. To cool off, he to took a bigger swallow then your sip, appreciating the burn as it went down to settle in his gut. 

“what is it?” You repeated and he looked at you and swiped his thumb over your lower lip to dry it off. “Rum and Coke, we only get it once a year, usually its homemade shit or cheap ass beer thats long since gone stale. Its new years though, another year living on the train passed.” 

“Oh! I never heard the announcement.” Your gaze again falls to looking around the room, and you got bolder in your drinking. Soon, your eyes were brighter then usual and there was a flush to your cheeks. Curtis watched you get caught up in it all and he finally leaned over to whisper in your ear. “You can go dance you know, just dont stray far from the table.” He knew others would pick up on your innocence right away, target you for your weakness, typically it was a game. That is until people learned that your were his, and he was never one to share. 

Nervous, you hesitate a moment, and then push up to go up the stairs, and dont wander to far away, but mingle. Soon your drawn into a group of women who were just dancing, and the rush of the alcohol in your system swept you away in the motion. Curtis caught sight of you laughing and swaying your hips, deeming that you were fine. He collected your glasses to go refill them with just straight soda this time, and a pair of steel grey eyes crinkled at the corners, smirking watching Curtis, whom was unaware of the threat. About time he left his girl alone was the mans thoughts, pushing from where he been sitting with a group of friends and his own toy. 

You were unaware of any change happening, until a pair of hands slid along your hips, and hot breath against your neck, a lash of the tongue over your ear, you wouldnt doubt it was anyone other then Curtis so you didnt fight it. You were his after all, and your buzzed state, you couldnt tell that this was a slightly smaller set of hands on your hips, and that the person gyrating behind you certainly wasnt as broad as Curtis. Your time in the tail end, you were used to never having personal space, you simply fell back into the person behind you, getting lost in the tempo and rush of the alcohol.  

When he came back, he glanced through the crowd again as he set the drinks down, and Curtis couldnt fucking believe what the hell he was seeing. You pushing your sweet little ass of yours into Grey of all the fucking people. Quick, he snapped up to the dance floor, and your eyes sprang open to see him pushing people to crash into one another so he could get through, frightened you looked over your shoulder to see someone youve never seen in your life, and you stepped forward to meet Curtis. “Curtis! Im so-” 

“Get on your fucking knees now and wait!” He roared at you and your scrambled to fall at his feet like he told you to, your eyes welling up at your mistake. Curtis stepped around where you knelt, your hands wringing together. 

“Curtis, we were just having fun to.” Grey sighed with disappointment. “I had to see what the fuss was all about. I can see why Wilford got interested in her, she is cute for a cum slut.” 

“What the fuck makes you think you could touch her?” Curtis crowded Grey, who didnt back up but he to crowded back, smirking in Curtis’s pissed off face. 

“Wanted to see if they were as fucking easy as they come. I would have had her sucking cock in a few minutes with how she was grinding her ass into me like some horny bitch. Cant satisfy them Curtis? Why Wilford had to give you a tail ender? Not like they know any better.” 

Curtis didnt even bother with that jab, it was clearly meant to push his buttons. Drawing up to his full height, Grey albeit smaller, was not at all intimidated by Curtis, and leaned in a bit closer, smirking “dont worry Curtis, when I get her, and I will cause the winner takes it all, I will teach her how to properly behave.” You were pushing to a stand to try and explain to the two men, when Curtis caught sight of you “Did I fucking tell you to stand, get back in your place.” 

“But Curtis, it wasnt... “ You try once more, and he has to deal with you defying him, you gave him no choice. Ignoring Grey who watched this all with interest, he stalked forward and fists his hand in your hair, yanking you back to your knees. “What did I tell you?” 

“On my knees” You twist and cry out, your hands going to your hair to try to get him to loosen his grip. 

“Do I want any fucking sass coming from you?” 

“n-no.” You cant help the tears that are rolling down your cheeks and the way your head bows to him. 

Lowering closer to your level, his next words were so low it was hard to hear, but they held deadly promise should you not listen. “Start crawling to the door Y/N” Releasing his hold and shoving you to sprawl back. 

You look at him like he cant be serious, crawl? His face though, was all serious anger storming his blue eyes and you back away from him, the crowd parting to allow you passage. 

“Please Curtis...” 

Nothing, no softening or taking pity on you, you do only thing that you can, and start to pull yourself away on your hands and knees, Curtis watched your heart shaped ass sway back and forth, and then turns back to Grey, whos watching with an amused look. 

“Sure you dont want me to break in your little sweetheart? Ass like that good for alot of things, wouldnt be any trouble at all.” 

Curtis growled lowly “Dont fucking lay a hand on her anymore, shes mine. I have no problem shoving your dick down your throat should you think shes yours to handle.” 

Grey grinned at the challenge. “No, course not. Better not let her out of your sight again.” With that Grey turned back, and hoped back down into the seating area he had been occupying previously, yanking his own girl back in his lap, and slapping her thighs to spread, ready to share her with his current company. Curtis didnt waste any more time with them, and followed where she had crawled away, getting to the door, you were waiting this time, in a subdued position, on your knees, head bowed, palms up, trying not to look embarrassed or scared of it all. Made his cock twitch again, Fucking Christ, bad timing. “Get up” He yanked on your arm and hauled you to a stand. You stumbled, but did it all quietly, averting looking at him. 

It was silent going back to the rooms, and you tried to keep up best you could to his long stride. The train walls kept dipping as if off kilter and you stumbled into Curtis a few times. Finally though you two reach his room again and he gets the door to open, pushing you to fly in first. You stumble and grab a hold of the wall, trying to get everything to stop spinning. 

“Curtis, please I didnt know.” 

He doesnt care, more pissed off then he was before at your attempt for an explanation, he drags you from your grip off the wall and over his knee. “You knew better Y/N, and yet you fucking undermined me.” 

His knee is hard in your stomach, and you could feel him lifting your skirt to pool around your waist. You try to look over your shoulder but he shoves your head back to look at the wall and floor. Struggling, again a waste of your energy, hes holding you pinned over his knee with no more energy then he would give to a mild inconvenience in his day. Yanking down your panties to, he smacked your bottom hard, hard enough to jar you forward in his lap. 

“Dont worry I plan on marking your ass so hard, your not going to be forgetting who you belonged to.” Curtis gives no time to adjust, its one hard spank on one of your cheeks after another, its a fire burning you now, and your crying into his leg, arching once in a while when its a particular had slap, those sharp stinging ones that you swear are going to break your skin. Curtis hand prints popped up in welts, and you sobbed for him to stop. “Pl-please Curtis, I wont do it again. I swear... I thought it was you. “ He growled and started to come to a stop. He reached to take a fistful of hair and jerk your head back so he could see you even at this angle. 

“Who do you listen to?” 

Sobs crack your voice. “You Curtis...” 

“Thats right little one, next time be aware of who the fuck is behind you. Accident or not, if I catch it happening again, it will be worst.” He just as quickly put you in a stand, and stood up himself, gripping your chin so your tear stained face couldnt defy him and look away. “Next time it will be a leather strap and you will bleed for it. Get to bed now.” Dropping his hand and you are quick to move out of his way while he went to take a shower. 

Your ass, burning hot and every step screamed red hot through you, you peel away the clothes that you had been so excited for and folded them into the dresser, getting into an over sized tee that Curtis had given you to wear. Crawling in close to the wall, you lay on your side, waiting for him to come back out. He finished and didnt bother with clothing, snapping off lights as he came, he stretched out on his side, and yanked you over to him, hiking a leg over his hip, there was a unprepared thrust into your core, and you yelp into his chest, pressing your face there till the pain dulled, your breathing coming and going in shallowly as you braced for him to start moving he never did though, his arm just caged you in close. 

“You can sleep like this tonight, full of my cock so you dont forget who the fuck you belong to.” 

You sniffle in the darkness, trying to adjust to the full sensation hes stuffed you with. Now, you were even more homesick for the tail end. 

Tags-  @jtargaryen18 @what-is-your-plan-today @official-and-unstable-satan @p8tn0lish @stardancerluv @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @ozarkthedog​  @that-damn-girl @curtisbbq @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @thatweirdwalangpake @nsfwsebbie​ @imanuglywombat​

[honeydots]

127 with shuake would be good.

"My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep."

once again. didnt forget abt these. im working thru em. 

Summary: Goro wakes up one day in a hospital bed with only a bullet wound to keep him company, and not a single memory of who he used to be. 

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(ao3 link)

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He was almost certain the last few weeks had been a dream. 

Or maybe, several long and white coated dreams. The kinds with bright lights at an arm's length, and ill-fitting clothes, and men coming in waves carrying their clipboards as flags. With deep voices all at once whispering, echoing, “what is your name?” 

Maybe he was in a hospital. 

His first day of full consciousness was slow and lonely. His second day too, time spent wiggling his toes and counting ceiling spots. Day three he asked for a glass of water and scared a nurse out of her skin, and his week was kickstarted. Which only really meant an actual doctor came in and declared retrograde amnesia the only explanation for his condition.

His “condition” was quite the word to use. Which condition? They could play bingo. Was it his memory loss (obvious, weak narrative), or could it have been the state of comatose he’d been in (intriguing), or even the bullet wound (now here was a mystery, what a plotline) he’d heard remarkably little about? Amnesia, the fickle bastard, was the type to bring one answer to dinner, and disappear by morning. 

But what did he know? 

Well, he knew that this was a pretty shitty hospital.  As far as how he assumed they should be managed, this one was on a low tier. And according to the nurse, as was their police station. Incompetent, and uncaring of his case, which had apparently been made. 

It’d been a week now. He could get up. Limited, with his IV, but he could. The nurse said later that maybe the police would listen to him now, since he was conscious, basically up and kicking. ‘Listen to him now,’ was also an interesting phrase, because he hadn’t been speaking in the first place. 

He wasn’t injured. His vitals were fine, the nurses had told him, and commented he was taking up an unnecessary bed. Not that he could actually make any kind of sound argument, which was frustrating enough on its own, but this didn’t seem like proper procedure. 

He was, once again, very alone in his room. He thought about going to the police station. Incompetent as they may be, there would be no answers here. There was no one here to help him; some healthy boy in a hospital bed. 

He got up. His IV was stuck in poorly, the tape just barely holding on. They’d disconnected him from all sorts of machines. Nothing was roping him down except for saline solution and his own two feet. 

And, he was already standing. 

It wasn’t hard to pull out. 

His hospital gown was tied all the way down, falling just past his knees. He had odd socks on, their texture was weird, and they were several sizes too big. They were thick and patterned, maybe slip proof? But shoeless as he was, they would do.  

The hallway was very empty. He was on the ground floor, but he wasn’t sure there were other stories. Maybe one, or a basement. It didn’t matter much. There just wasn’t anyone around. His concern was in that he didn’t know how long their absence would last. 

There was a glass door at the end of the hallway.

To the police he’d go. A medical bill dodging amnesiac would probably get him some attention. Enough to get a name? 

The door was not locked. That was probably good, for a hospital, and not a security breach, which is where his mind had initially gone. 

Doors are meant to be opened, he thought. There really isn’t anything wrong with that. 

It was just a little bright outside. The sun was up but not too far. He was in the parking lot, and it was almost entirely devoid of cars. Small, small hospital. 

He didn’t exactly have a map, and no nurse was around to give him any condescending directions. He’d might as well go forward, then. He started walking, and thought to himself how odd his feet felt on the concrete. 

No one was out. He hesitated to call it deserted, just maybe a bit early. He kept walking, nerves high, still worried he might get mauled by a stray doctor.

It seemed like this was a very small town, going by his surroundings. Lots of trees, and cracked roads, and old buildings. He didn’t think much of taking it all in. He’d have time for sightseeing when he remembered his initials. 

A bit farther ahead was a woman, leaning on a car parked on the side of the road. She was glaring down at her phone. She looked— maybe irritated? Or tired. He wondered if he could ask her for directions. An aimless stroll through town wouldn’t take him to where he was going, after all. 

“Excuse me,” he called, “Ma’am? Do you know the way to the police station?” He approached her with just enough caution to call it looking out for himself, ignoring the sorry state he was already in. 

She glanced up from her phone. Her hair was short, and dark, and it bobbed around her face. She registered him for a moment, and her eyes went big. 

“Holy shit.” 

He knew enough to know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I need to go to the police, please.” 

The woman kept staring at him. “You—” she stuttered, “are you Goro Akechi? You are, aren’t you?” 

This encounter was already going awry. Did she know him? “Do you know me?” 

“Uh…I mean, no, we’ve never met.” She pushed herself off her car, and slowly put her phone back into her pocket. 

That wasn’t really what he meant. He needed to persist, here. This could be a lucky hit. “No I— Do you know who I am?” 

Blatant confusion spread across her face. “Uh…  Are you not Goro Akechi?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. 

She stared at him again, almost suspicious. Then she looked him up and down.

“Are you… coming from the hospital?” 

“Yes.” He watched her mouth open just a bit in disbelief. He wondered how this woman knew him. If explaining would get more information out of her, then he’d do it. Privacy only existed when you had something to protect, after all. “I’ve been given an amnesiac diagnosis, you see. I’m going to the police station to see if I can find any sort of lead on myself.” 

She looked shocked. “Amnesia? And you’re going to the cops?” She blinked, and suddenly looked very serious. She grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait. That’s bad news. Don’t go to the police.” 

He (Goro?) hadn’t expected to hear that.“What? And why shouldn’t I?”  

“You… holy shit, kid, do you actually have amnesia?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen you need to— oh good god, this is gonna sound like I’m trying to kidnap you— I definitely know who you are. I can tell you but we shouldn’t… here. If someone finds you… ” She exhaled hard, and looked him dead on. It made Goro freeze. “Fuck, okay. The gist of it is— you’re in more danger than you realize. Like, a lot more. Will you come talk with me in my car?” 

Alright. So, a lot to process, and a lot he didn’t know how to. He didn’t even know if he should process it, or if that was the kind of story that should be immediately disregarded. Someone telling you to not go to the police and please get in their car seemed like a textbook stranger-danger red flag. There had been something uneasy about her tone, though. Like genuine concern— not that such a thing couldn’t be perfected and acted, however. 

But she’d given him a name. And it felt almost tangible, the more he thought about it. Less bendable and more sturdy. It was very easy to attach to himself. And it was a lead, wasn’t it? 

“Hey, did you get discharged, or are you just wandering around? Cause they’re gonna be looking for you if they didn’t let you out,” said the woman, jump starting Goro (almost certainly, Goro) out of his head. “And kid, I cannot just let you turn yourself in to the cops.” 

‘Turn myself in,’ he thought to himself. Such particular wording. It made his stomach drop. This woman knew more than him, clearly. And really, for fucks sake, if he died, he died. Obviously he hadn’t left enough of a mark on anyone to warrant not a single visitor during a five year coma. According to the nurses, it was more evident that he’d simply been dumped in town— like someone had already been trying to get rid of him. 

Well, whoever they were, they’d forgotten to bury his bones. 

He straightened himself up. “Okay.” 

She looked surprised, at first. She swallowed around it. “...Yep, okay then. Hop in before you change your mind.” She popped open her car door, and Goro circled around the side and followed suit. 

Her car was messy. It was filled with food wrappers and empty bottles, but papers and notebooks were scattered around, too. So she kept busy, it seemed. He decided he’d consider this a point in the not-about-to-murder-you direction. Too much here that could be used as evidence against her. Too personalized. He was almost envious. 

She adjusted her seat forwards and turned on the ignition. She was a bit jittery, Goro noticed, as she scratched the back of her head vigorously. 

“So, I’m gonna drive us somewhere that isn’t here but I can talk and drive so, just— like,  just a second, okay?” 

He nodded. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “...Goddamn,” she muttered, and then pressed down on the gas, turning her car onto the barren road. 

She kept her eyes forward, but kept true to her promise of talking. She sighed. “Right. So, uh, to start… Okay, first, my name’s Ichiko Ohya, I’m a journalist. Get that cleared away. Next comes you which is a bit more complicated, but you probably wanna know why we’re dodging cops so I’ll start there. Or, as close to there as I can.”

He would take anything he could get from her, actually. The cops situation was undeniably concerning, but right now he was essentially a sentient empty shell, absorbing everything for the first time. A kid in a metaphorical candy store, but the store was a dodgy reporter who still might be kidnapping him and just stalling.  He’d call himself the kid, but it dawned on him he didn’t even know how old he was. Fantastic. More things the hospital staff hadn’t bothered to tell him. 

“Your name’s Goro Akechi. I told you that already but, that’s you. At least I’m like, ninety percent sure.” She spared him a glance. “You do look a bit different but all in all I’m— I’m pretty sure. Just the hair and the stubble, you know.” 

Goro hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror recently, so no, he didn’t know. He knew he had long hair— certainly longer than Ohya’s. He rubbed his jaw and felt the rough and gritty bristles that had prickled onto him. It bothered him that he didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know what he looked like. 

Ohya continued, not letting him dwell for long. “You’re also sort of famous. Well, you were, and it was mainly with teenagers and moms in the city, but you were a popular detective. So, that’s how I know you. And I swear I’m getting to the running from cops part, but you have to know this first first. Oh, shit, it’s right here.” She took a sharp turn into a grocery store, and Goro had to grip the side to keep steady in his seat. 

She didn’t act very sheepish about it. “Sorry, for that. We’re gonna talk in here.” 

She paused her explanation to pull into a spot, which Goro felt a little thankful for because, under his circumstances, that felt like a lot of information to take in. He was well known, but not well known enough that anyone out here knew him. ‘Famous detective’ raised some weird alarms in his head, a position absurd enough that it might be true. It felt unfortunately right, like a disappointing truth. It was different from his name, more unwelcome. But it didn’t click either. Nothing had been clicking at all. 

There was a pit growing in his stomach, like something was in there, chewing down on his insides. But he’d found he didn’t care for ignorance, so he would put up with it for as long as it took. 

Ohya turned her car off, pushed her seat away from the wheel, and got herself comfortable. She faced him, nonchalant but sincere. “So this is where the really juicy stuff comes in, alright? So like, listen up now, if you weren’t.” There was something very serious about her eyes. 

As if he’d have let any of her explanation slip under his radar. “I’m listening.”  

That was a good enough answer for her, it seemed. 

“I’m trying to think of the best way to explain this, honestly,” she started, thumbing the back of her hand. “You… okay, there was this guy. He was a really big politician that you were involved with, and it’s kind of a gray area as far as what you were doing for him, but you and him worked together. Kind of. He was a really shitty guy.” 

She looked like she was considering her words. She turned her focus out the windshield for a moment, and sighed again. “He basically ended up confessing because this group— well, actually, they don’t matter right now. He confessed, and he talked about you. For some of it. It was a long fucking confession. But half of what he said wasn’t even coherent. He was talking about some crazy shit and no one knows what he meant by it. You were part of that whole section.” She paused again, thinking. Goro let the silence sit. He didn’t want to jump to a conclusion until he’d heard her out. Which was proving difficult, truthfully, because this all left a sour taste in his mouth, one that had almost certainly been there before. 

“They wanted to take you in for questioning, but you disappeared. And, to add fuel to the fire, they were having a hard time getting any actual concrete evidence,” she began. “Can’t make an arrest based on a confession alone. He did other things, too, and that's what he ended up being indicted for, but there's still that problem. This whole chunk of confession is still there that technically lines up with his timeline of events, but there’s no way to prove it. That’s why they want you,” Ohya’s expression darkened. “At least, publicly, that’s why they want you.” 

She readjusted in her seat again. She faced him fully. “This guy— Shido’s his name— he’s got goons. Not to mention, he had complete control over the police, and there are other higher up’s who worked with him. Some of those guys got busted with Shido’s confession, but there’s a few where there just isn’t enough evidence to put ‘em away. These are the ones who you need to watch out for.” She took a deep breath, not finished. 

“I’m gonna be frank with you,” she continued. “They want you dead. They don’t want a single loose end, and you’re still dangling. The police are on their side. Are you understanding me?”

Goro tried to let the words sink in. That was more than a lot to think about. The creature in his stomach was grinning now, he could tell. But, this was also no time to get overwhelmed. If her words were true— which, the overwrought familiarity of her explanation compelled him to trust them— he needed to keep his head above the water. 

“So these— subordinates. You’re saying they’re after my life? They can’t be actively hunting me down, if they have the influence you’re implying, or I’d have been found by now,”  Goro said, deciding to ignore the fear creeping up his spine. “So then, what’s my public status? How unlikely was it that I was the egoless comatose patient they were searching for?” 

“Uh…” said Ohya, seeming like she was the stunned one. “Well, you’re right, they don’t really have a manhunt right now. I guess I don’t need to worry about beating around the bush here— you’re presumed dead.”

Interesting. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “But, obviously, a body was never found. They’re probably prioritizing morgues then, not hospitals. That does explain why I wasn’t discovered after all this time.” Though, if they’re smart, they’d also keep an eye on cases like his. They probably were, in fact. He’d gotten lucky that the police here were clueless. 

Ohya gave him a very funny look. “You know, it’s almost creepy how well you’re taking this. You were in a coma this whole time?” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you’d be more out of it, honestly.” 

“Is this not what you’d consider a wake-up call? I’ve been ‘out of it’ for a week. It’s common sense that I’d react like this,” he told her. Just going outside had cleared his head. He had a feeling hospitals had never been a fitting place for him. “Yes, I was in a coma,” he added, as an afterthought. “They said I’d been shot.” 

Just as the words left his mouth, he realized the implications that had. 

Ohya noticed just as fast. “You said shot?” 

They’d certainly both had the same assumption— maybe an attempt had already been made after his life. 

But there was something that felt wrong about that scenario, too. “I’m not… entirely sure it’s what you think it is,“ he replied. Maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word but, it wasn’t completely right either. “There’s no benefit to not making my body public. And, if they’re really after me, it seems messy, to say the least, that they didn’t finish the job properly.” He tried to speak confidently. The effort was familiar, too. Part of him wondered when he’d get the chance to do some self-analysis and tear himself apart. 

Ohya caught on very quick, rolling with every punch Goro gave. “Christ, kid. What kind of shady shit were you into? So we’re thinking you’ve got another group after you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He really didn’t. There were missing pieces, but that was evident. He had no end of missing pieces. If he was supposed to be some detective, then maybe he should get on with acting like it, and figure out whatever the hell this was.

Whatever business he’d wrapped himself into. 

Ohya, again, spoke too quickly for Goro to finish digging through his own head.

“Maaan, I’ve really got myself into something haven’t I?” She rubbed her eyes, like she was already exhausted. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Don’t expect much out of me, but apparently I’ve got a bad habit of adopting puppies. So I’ll see if I can at least point you in the right direction, okay?” 

He didn’t have much of another choice, other than to let himself be killed. He nodded again, not sure whether to call himself pleased or solemn. 

She buzzed her lips and looked at him, obviously thinking. Then she opened her car door. “Well, okay. First things first, you gotta get some clothes, ‘cause you can’t go walking around like that. God, you don’t even have shoes…” She got out and stretched, and then turned back to him for one last comment. “Don’t expect much, okay? I’m not made of money. Don’t you dare go anywhere, either.” 

She slammed the door shut and started walking into the store. 

Goro was glad for the moment of peace. He let his jaw relax, closing his eyes. He hated how familiar the stress felt, and how desperate he was to welcome the feeling. A life or death promise was about as thrilling as one day should get. 

Getting any memory back was his top priority. But he didn’t have an inkling of where to start. He didn’t have a phone, or a computer, and certainly not a home. He guessed he could use a public computer at a library, but just searching himself might raise more questions than answers. They’d be important questions, he was sure, but he wondered about the bias, the assumptions, the fact that it’d be an outside perspective looking in. He didn’t know how delicately he should go about regaining his memories. 

Not to mention, he had only the word of a stranger and a low feeling in his stomach confirming he was even Goro Akechi. And now, with the reputation he’d had, if he even wanted to be him was questionable. Memories of such a life seemed… unpleasurable, at best, but he hadn’t set himself up to be able to just start over. Remembering his past was his best chance at plain old survival. 

He wanted to have some kind of plan before Ohya came back, but he was drawing blanks. What he really needed was someone who knew him personally. Beyond media attention, if there was a single poor soul around who’d actually known him. He found himself doubting such an existence, past anyone who was out for his head. 

He heard the car doors unlock, and he opened his eyes. Ohya was walking back with two bags, and she was on her phone again, barely looking where she was going. Well, there goes him having a plan. Bouncing ideas back and forth was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time wasted and he knew he would get frustrated, but his choices were limited. At least Ohya seemed pretty knowledgeable. It was possible she knew more than she was letting on, too. 

She opened up the car door and tossed the bags onto his lap. “Hey,” she began, setting herself back into place, “I got your stuff but— I remembered something in there that might be a good starting place for you, if I can run that by ya.” 

Or, of course, he could hear Ohya out and avoid idea bouncing all together. Something solid had come by much quicker than he thought. 

*****

Ohya’s plan wasn’t bad at all. 

She’d told him she had a contact from a few years ago, who was in charge of a bundle of self storage units. Apparently a certain “Goro Akechi” had registered himself one a couple months or so after Goro’s public disappearance. They’d told her once they noticed the name, but Ohya hadn’t taken up the lead at the time. When Goro asked why they’d even told her that, she left it at “no reason important,” and kept the topic adamantly off the table. Goro would push the envelope if it weren’t for the fact that his life (a life he didn’t even know he had, for the record, and one that still bothered him) was on the line. 

If this unit did belong to him, there could be a very solid lead on himself in there, and leads on his acquaintances, too. Ohya didn’t know if the garage still existed, though. So she said she’d give them a call and see if they could figure something out. 

Which is what led to Goro sitting in a barber’s chair. After he’d gotten dressed (an ensemble of sweats, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) Ohya had commented that he looked like he belonged in a homeless shelter, and “really needed a haircut.”

She said something about how he’d always kept himself looking clean, and Goro believed it. He was already feeling discomfited the way he was. So unkempt and basically filthy. So, she decided that while she was getting her contact all in order, she’d pay for him getting a trim and a shave. 

She was helping him more than he’d expected her to, in ways he didn’t really expect. But he’d take what he could get. He’d hardly had a reason to say no. 

He sat waiting in front of a mirror. He hadn’t gotten a good look at himself until now, but god, she was right, he looked pretty fucking bad. 

The first thought that came to him was sickly. Eyes sunken in, deep bags under his eyes. You wouldn’t expect him to have just been in a permanent state of slumber for the past five years. Or maybe the correct assumption would be, a coma hadn’t been enough sleep for him. 

His hair was just below his shoulders, and he had a very pitiful looking beard. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t think that would change much after his haircut, but it made him itch. It was a face that didn’t feel like his. He wanted to rip it off and replace it with a new one, one he knew better. 

Maybe he’d never liked looking at his reflection. 

Ohya had spoken to the barber for him. The one he got either wasn’t the talkative type, or really got his vibe of not wanting to speak to anyone. She went to work in silence, washing his hair with fruity shampoo and dressing him in a long black apron. That was all fine, albeit uncomfortable, but once she started cutting, Goro found he couldn't watch. The snips were loud, and definite, and it left his chest feeling tight. He couldn’t do anything but let his thoughts run blank. 

He wondered if that was hair he’d had before his incident, now falling away. He’d have the same eyes, and organs, and teeth, too. But he felt all wrong in this body. Like it had gone on without him. 

He was thankful when she moved to his beard. Just for a moment, though, because having someone so close to his face made him want to retreat as far back into himself as possible. A blade so close to his throat. He wondered how hard of a push it would take to make a cut. He wondered how deeply he’d have to go to make it bleed. 

 Maybe he’d always hated barbers, too. 

When she’d announced she was finished, and Goro forced himself to look back in the mirror, it actually took him aback. It had taken years off him. She’d styled his bangs, and left no hair on his chin, but most importantly, it was clean. Soft looking. Pleasant. 

It was almost enough to distract him from the discolored scar plastered on his forehead. 

He stared for probably too long. His disheveled bangs had kept it clearly out of view on his first glance, but now that he was fresh and groomed, it pushed its way into the limelight. It was reddish, and almost shiny, and painstakingly circular. 

He could feel dread bubbling up. He tore himself away from the mirror, and found an instant sense of relief when he wasn’t staring anymore. 

Reflections and barbers. More to read into later, he supposed. He was learning he had been quite the hassle. What an annoyance. 

Ohya met him at the entrance. Pure amusement was all over her face. “Shorter than I expected, but you’re looking pretty smart like that.” Her eyes went to his scar, but she made no comment on it. She frowned, but that was all. 

Goro didn’t mind her reluctance on the topic. He raised his eyebrows, and spoke with the silent mutual understanding of  “that is one gnarly goddamn scar” between them. “Ah, and I’m sure the sweatpants add to the look.” 

“Watch it,” she snapped back, sliding into her usual demeanor. “Not like I could get you Levi’s, kid.” 

She paid for his haircut, and out of the shop they went. They walked to the car in anticipating silence. She had her phone out again, texting someone now. Goro didn’t want to get his hopes up. Texting could mean anything, or nothing, or half of one or the other. 

She pushed her seat back getting into the car, and pulled one leg up with her. Goro waited for her to speak, keeping himself tense. He really wouldn’t be able to loosen up if he tried, like a wound up doll who’d gotten stuck. 

Ohya broke the quiet. “It’s still there.” 

Goro sucked in, but didn’t let himself relax. Nothing ended there. It was one check off a list, but not all of them.

 “And can we go in?” 

Ohya blew air out of her mouth. “Well, she said she wants to make sure it's you, because there's only so many privacy laws she wants to break.” She shrugged at him. “But honestly, looking at you now, there's not a doubt in my mind you’re Goro Akechi. So, you can chill about it.” 

He leaned back into his seat. The tensity had not left him. Something was making him lucky today, and he hated it. He would feel much more comfortable in the mitts of misfortune. But he couldn’t help feeling giddy, too. Like something was rubbing circles into his back, easing, but not erasing, bits and pieces of his concerns. It was something to focus on, and a goal to achieve. Above all, that relief made him feel pathetic. 

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go today or not, but you look more thrilled than I think I’ve ever seen you, so I’m just gonna take that as a yes.” 

He hated the way she worded that. He frowned. “Only if you’re as concerned about my identity as you seemed to be earlier. You’re welcome to take your time, I’m surely not going anywhere.” 

“You’re snarky! I never realized you had an attitude,” Ohya laughed. 

She got the car going, and they were on their way to the unit. Apparently it was quite a ways, and Ohya advised him he’d better buckle in for a long one. 

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He had things he wanted to think about, and questions he wanted to ask. Working up a tolerance to being active was not something that could be done in a day, but fuck if he wouldn’t try anyway. 

But, despite how he tried to fight it, Goro fell asleep. 

*****

He woke up when they were about ten minutes from the units. Ohya commented she’d thought it was a little funny that he’d been so exhausted doing just about nothing all day, but admitted too that his body was probably pretty weak, and he really should take it easy. As easy as he could, at least. 

They were both quiet for the remainder of the drive. The sun was getting low now. They were passing by suburbs between grassy fields, driving past exit by exit. He had no idea how long they’d been going for. Ohya had called herself busy, and Goro believed it, so her continual help felt unusual. People weren’t just like this, he was almost sure. 

She also knew things that felt… almost inappropriately relevant to him. The topic of the unit still tingled in the back of his mind. Why had they called her about his storage? And for that matter, why had she even known so much about him? The information she had felt intimate— like the results of a deep investigation. Had this all been yielded from that politician? 

But Ohya had a distinct air of privacy. There could’ve been something personal about her aid, but Goro figured that she wouldn’t crack easily. It might be better to leave it— personal matters tended to yield lasting effects, after all. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn’t sure if that was as big of a plus as it appeared on the surface, though. 

When the centre came into view, Goro let those thoughts ease into the back of his mind. He could focus on Ohya’s MO later. This was leaps and bounds more important to him; if anything was going to last, it was this. He could play detective, just like he was supposed to, and maybe come across some special clue. Perhaps he could test out his muscle memory and flex whatever skills he presumed he’d had. 

They arrived, and it looked extremely closed. Like the only customers they’d been expecting were ghosts. The lights in the windows were off, and the gate guarding the units was shut tight. It wasn’t encouraging. 

Ohya read his expression pretty clearly. She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She knows we’re coming, my contact’s still here. The front just closes at 6:00. I’ll deal with it, so just stay put for now.” 

And just as she said, after she hopped out of her car and approached the office, the door swiftly opened and a woman joined Ohya outside. The two of them seemed friendly. Goro watched as they talked, noting quizzically to himself that Ohya was someone who talked with her hands. 

Ohya gestured to her car and they both looked over to Goro. He watched them walk over, and obeyed smartly when Ohya signaled him to roll down his window. 

 The woman peeked her head around to look at him, her eyebrows arched high. “Wow,” she said, completely staring now. “I mean, he looks like him, that’s for sure.” 

Ohya grinned. “Sure does. That enough for you to let us in?” She didn’t really say it as a request, more like an expectation. Goro appreciated the tone. 

She fiddled with her bottom lip. “Hmm. You said amnesia? He got any doctor's notes about that?” She asked, giving cue to Ohya’s sour expression. 

“You didn’t say a word about notes 

on the phone, you know.” 

The contact clicked her tongue, and looked back to Goro. She bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed. “Just cause it’s you, Ohya, I’ll take that nasty scar on his forehead as my confirmation.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Come with me inside, I’ll get his key.” 

Ohya made a haughty noise of achievement, and followed the woman back in. Goro rolled up the window again. 

They were taking a little while. He rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. So obviously a bullet wound, maybe that had been the real reason his barber hadn’t made much conversation. Whoever tried to kill him had shot just where it counted. You don’t fire a warning shot into a head. He wondered if he’d deserved it, and doubted he didn’t.  

Goro removed his hand when Ohya reemerged from the building, and she was looking confident. She slid back into her car and jingled the key to his unit victoriously. “Easy peasy. She’s gonna open the gate for us in a second. Your unit number is 508.” 

They waited for a little while, nerves ever growing, until the automatic gates opened on their own, groaning and creaking until fully extended. Ohya started her car and drove in, squinting at the unit numbers in the low light.

Rows upon rows of garages awaited them. This must’ve been a pretty large lot, by the looks of things. The dirt road was the only uneven piece of scenery, the repetition was endless. He kept a watchful eye on the unit numbers, as well, skipping between the evens and the odds. 

After a few right turns, and one very tight u-turn, they were there. 508 stood wedged between its neighbors, almost at the end of the row, but not quite. Not a thing stood out about it. It was just as gray and worn and untouched as the rest of the facility. Not even the dirt was remarkable. It reminded him of the hospital. 

Ohya held the key out to Goro. 

“I’m assuming you want this to be a ‘just you’ kinda thing?” 

The gesture was something he should’ve expected, but didn’t. It made him hesitate for a moment. 

He took the key. “I appreciate it,” he said. 

“No sweat.” 

He got out of her car, and she drove off to the end of the row. She stayed parked within general sight of the unit. It was essentially pseudo privacy, but neither of them knew how long he’d be in there, and who knows what this could trigger. Ohya also didn’t seem like she knew a thing about amnesia. He wouldn’t look to her for comfort of any sort, but there was reassurance in her being a safe figure. 

He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was his step one. He’d gotten himself into some deep shit, his past self hadn’t seemed to have a shred of self preservation in mind. Had he not encountered Ohya, he could’ve been dead by the hands of the crooks that call themselves the police by now. He had a lot more steps to cover, and each one would be riskier than the next. He was much more on his own than he realistically should’ve been. Most people had friends, as far as he knew. But this was seemingly his own fault. He wanted to know why exactly it was his fault. 

One more deep breath. 

He inserted the key into the lock, and grabbed the handle of the metal shutter. He pushed up, and with a squeak of rust and a bang of metal, he opened up his door to more dangerous times. 

And it was nearly empty. 

It was barren concrete. Newly disturbed dust was floating about. It was eerily quiet, and the stale air made his throat itch. Cobwebs stuck in the corners, barely visible in the low light of the setting sun. Though he wouldn’t call it underwhelming. 

In the center of the floor was a cardboard box. About medium sized, without a lid. It matched well with the rest of the room, lined with dust and unaltered. He kneeled in front of it. 

It was its contents that felt much more exciting. There were papers, lots of them. Thick manila envelopes full of information for him to flip through. He scooted back towards the entrance and pulled the box along with, trying to get the last of the light funneling in to help him read. 

It was heavier than he expected, and he didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current lack of strength. He took out the first envelope and it, despite the dust, was clear and candid. When he flipped it around, he noticed with eagerness that there was writing on the front. He tried to make it out as clearly as he could, and in careful handwriting, it read: “05/21/2020— Case No. 1471” 

It was a case file. He pulled out another envelope, and it was similarly marked. His interest was surely piqued. There must’ve been some sort of relevance to these, if they were going to be so pointedly left here. He pulled out a third, and then a fourth, and from the weight he’d expected many more. But, the pile ended there. Instead, what filled the rest of the box was another, smaller, wooden one. 

He took it out delicately, gripping it securely around the sides to ensure he didn’t drop it. This seemed much more… personal. Shiny cherry wood, latched but not locked, just small enough to sit on his lap firmly. A thought that couldn’t help but be excited came to mind. 

This could’ve belonged to me. 

He wasted no time. He undid the latch, and it gave a satisfying click. The hinges creaked just barely as his clammy hands lifted the lid, and pulled all the way back, until it rested hanging by itself. 

Inside sat more papers. Some were crisper than others, some had obviously been crumpled and then flattened out again. But there was consistency in each of them being folded neatly in half, stacked neatly on top of each other. 

He picked up the one from the beginning of the pile, unfolded it, and was surprised to find it had hardly been written on; a simple “To you,” at the top. This was a candidate that had been clearly wadded up and discarded. He set it down carefully, and picked up the next. 

This one hadn’t been written on much, either. It said even less, just “Hello.” 

He picked up another, and another. It was all soft stationary, each topped with slightly different wordings, and some decorated with a couple lines, even. But they were all just about the same, a simple greeting, and then resigning. 

They were letters. Or rather— drafts for one. So he’d learned today that he was indecisive, maybe a bit quick tempered, but potentially also at least organized. He assumed the existence of these drafts meant he’d never gotten around to sending his letter, either. And perhaps he’d never get such a chance, if this visit didn’t convince any muggy memories to creep out of their caves.  

As he pulled out drafts and read his pathetic one-liners, he came across a page that was different. There was actually a fair amount of content on it, over a paragraph's worth. It had obviously also been cast aside, but even a spare scrap could be useful to him, in this state. He used the last of the remaining light to read it. 

“To whom it may concern, 

I would like to skip the inherent shamefulness of writing a letter to you, of all things, in my introduction, and I will title this ambiguously under the assumption that if you believe this does truly not concern you, that you will save me the mortification of reading through it anyways. 

I won’t formally phrase this as a farewell, but you should take it as one. 

Our unknowns are too great to write, and while you were not innocent, neither am I, and there are truths between the two of us that shouldn’t have remained unspoken. I’ve never thought to run from the blame. 

My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep. 

Perhaps a fact I recognized too late.

I do not want to say goodbye, however I—“

It cut off. 

The letter left a lump in Goro’s throat. He read it through once more. He wanted to analyze each sentence down to its core, but the light had died out. But there were bits and pieces, words that suck out in his mind. “Farewell,” “Innocent,” “Unspoken.”

“Too late.”

Goro bit down on his lip hard. The case files— those he understood. With the life he’d allegedly lived and the people he’d known, of course something like that would be predominant. They were fact on paper, ignorant of bias, they’d be full of names and leads. They were important. But, he didn’t understand why these almost-letters had been left here. Out of anything that could’ve been kept. Had there been someone he’d felt so strongly for? To be kept in safety behind lock and key? 

To identify this person— that could be his next goal to achieving his memories. To ignite the fire of their eventual reunion, and perhaps they could know what happened to him. They could come easy, though he suspected that anyone who he’d decided to be so rottenly open with wouldn’t be typical. But, they would also know him, past the media, past the appearances. 

And, though he wasn’t going to admit it, he’d needed something more hopeful to work towards. 

He put the papers back where they belonged, placed the entire case back into the cardboard box, and stacked the case files back atop it. 

There was no telling how old these letters were. They could’ve been from much before his incident. But this set him up for a goal, a big one, that might get him back to whatever meager place he’d left himself in. 

He picked up the box, and prepared himself to head back outside to Ohya. He needed to muster up his resolve, because this was only the first out of two very important clues this visit could provide. 

He positioned the box onto his waist, and took one last look into the dark before closing up his unit. He returned to Ohya’s car, pulling open the door without so much as a greeting, and set the box on the floor in front of his seat. 

Ohya leaned forward, interested. “That a box you got?” 

He wasn’t going to talk about the embarrassing letters he found. Even if he wanted to, his second clue came first. “It’s not that important right now,” he lied. “Is your contact still here?” 

She raised her eyebrows at him, but let the topic drop. “Sure is. She can’t leave ‘till we leave.” 

Good. “I need to speak with her.” 

She hummed in reply, seeming very curious by his idea. They drove back up to the entrance, Ohya not questioning his motives, but still giving him an inquiring side eye every so often. 

They got out of the car together this time, and walked into the front office. The woman was reading behind the counter, almost completely in the dark, with only a desk lamp lighting her work area. 

She glanced up at them, and placed her book upside down. “Hey there. You got that key?” 

“Yes,” Goro replied. He placed it lightly on the counter. She took it without a word, and got up to put it back on its hook. Goro stopped her before she turned. “I have a question for you.” 

She seemed a little surprised. She glanced between him and Ohya, and then put her free hand on her hip. “Okay?”

He hoped he could push his luck just a bit further today. He’d made it this far, after all. 

“Is there any way I can see the documentation that was filed when this unit was made?” he asked. 

The woman pursed her lips. “Ohya?” 

Ohya put her hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me. This is all him.” 

The woman stared at Goro. He stared back. This was arguably the most important part of the visit. He needed to see those papers. Just a single particular part, it was the one factor that needed an explanation. He would not leave until he got that documentation, and if he had to stand his ground and pull her leg a bit to get it, he would. 

After their staring contest lasted just a moment too long, she folded her arms. “Jeez. Only because I feel bad for you, okay?” she huffed, turning on her heel. “And because my niece liked your food blog.” 

She disappeared into the back of the office, leaving Goro feeling just a bit full of himself. He would think about the food blog comment later.

Ohya lightly punched his arm. “Okay, good going. But whatcha going to do with that?” 

“There’s something I need to check,” he replied flatly. It made Ohya grunt unenthusiastically. 

The woman returned with a few papers, all paper clipped together. She tossed them onto the counter. “This is a customer copy, okay? So feel free to keep it.” She glared at Ohya. “And, I’m going home now. So, get out, please.” 

That got a laugh out of Ohya. “I know I can always count on you to bend a couple of rules for me.” 

“Out.” 

They left the building, Ohya waving her last goodbyes while Goro rushed to the car. He needed to get some light on these papers, it was long past sundown now. He slid himself into the car, clicked on one of the lights, and went to work reading, all while Ohya was still walking over. 

Ohya opened her door and stood outside watching him, leaning on the frame. First, it was with interest, but it soon turned into irritation.

“Kid, tell me what you’re looking for. You’ve got your eyeballs all over that thing,” she said. 

He didn’t let their conversation stop him from reading. He kept his eyes glued to the page, checking each word and box before moving on. 

He did owe her an explanation. Getting his thoughts out would help him focus a bit, anyway. 

“These sorts of things— storage units. Wouldn't they be paid for recurrently?” 

Ohya went quiet for a moment. “They are,” she said, and joined him in the car. “Shit. Those funds can’t be coming from you, can they.” 

“Exactly. I’m looking for the responsible billing party.” He turned onto the next page. None of the handwriting matched what he’d seen on his papers and files, which further confirmed to him that this unit hadn’t been one he’d purchased himself. Whoever this was had put all that information in there, those cases, those letters. He suspected they weren’t his mystery recipient, but he could confirm that with them once they’d met.

Why this had been done in his name, though, was beyond him. 

He flipped onto the last page, and found his prize. Big black bolded letters asking for the responsible parties name, and neat penmanship filling in the blank. 

“Sae Niijima,” he read aloud. 

Ohya gawked. 

“‘Sae Niijima?’ Seriously?” she scoffed to herself, and sunk down further in her seat. “She’s an attorney. A damn good one, too.” 

An attorney? He wondered how she could’ve known him. “She’s the one paying, apparently.” 

Ohya tapped long slender fingers onto her steering wheel again. She dropped her head. “Guess that means she’s our next lead, huh?” 

Goro adjusted himself in his seat. “It does.” 

“Ahh, man,” she complained. “You’re really somebody who’s in with the big guns, you know. You better let me have some exclusive with you after all this is done, or something.” 

Goro gave way a hint of a smile. Probably his first since he’d woken up. If this would be the last of his luck, so be it. He hated to rely on something so shifty and mischievous, anyways. This was a start, barely a sprout, to whatever his big picture was. But he’d see himself to the very top. 

Really, he’d already died once. Hardly a way to go but up. 

“We’ll see.” 

[offtopicoverload]

Hope Dumps Noah

I have no logical explanation for what this is, but @bubblybabynailpolish had an anon bring up Noah + Hope = Jade + Beck from Victorious a while ago, and it’s been living rent free in my head for weeks so here’s some bullshit. It’s loosely based on that one episode where Jade gets Tori to win back Beck except gayer and more litg and exists purely to appease the gremlin that is early 2010s me yelling in the back of my mind. And thanks to Anne for answering my weird asks, this is what they were for lmao

T Rating (fluff and angst, some elements of the show kinda? i tried at least)

Hope x MC (Rosie)

~10k (got super carried away but didnt wanna make multiple parts so take it as you will. on the bright side, it'd be longer if i edited properly but im tired so no)

Rosie’s front door shakes on its hinges, a pounding, thundering sound echoing from the other side, berating the wood as it quivers and quivers. Her head flies up in surprise, half expecting an army to spill into her flat, battering ram in hand as they shout orders. But no such event occurs, and she leaps up from the sofa in the corner, pocketing her phone and hurrying across the room before yanking the door open. She immediately freezes in place, meeting bewildered, watery eyes standing on the other side of the threshold.

Tears are streaming down splotchy cheeks, a throat bobbing as it fights to maintain some sort of composure, even as bones tremble beneath skin, shivering regardless of the heat of the building. “Um, uh, hey?” Rosie tries awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway and gripping the knob with pale knuckles.

“Can I come in?” the words waver as they leave messy, tear-muddied, brightly stained lips, pouring out like broken shards, creating their own trail alongside tears. Red eyes glance down the hallway, paranoid as they search for something, even in the late night, “I don’t - I don’t want to be out here where -” a sniffle “- where people can see.”

Rosie blinks a few times, her mind still slowly working to process the situation that’s just presented itself to her. But dark eyes are glimmering with shed and unshed tears, pleading beneath lashes and shadows from poor corridor lighting, and she startles into action, “Yeah! Yeah, er, yeah,” she mumbles, moving aside and holding the door open in invitation.

The threshold’s crossed, hurrying inside the flat with arms crossed, making a beeline for the upholstered sofa backed against the wall and dropping down onto it. Rosie closes the door, locking it carefully, neurotically, slowly, just to give herself time to think, to make sense of what to do with one of the last people she ever expected inside her flat: Hope.

Hope’s sitting on her sofa, curled in on herself to take up as little space as possible, cheeks covered in the remnants of despair that Rosie can’t even explain, let alone prepare herself for. Hope’s sniffling in her living room, palms running up and down her biceps to calm herself, her throat struggling to stifle sobs she’s ashamed of. Hope’s crying in her flat, gaze pinned to the floor to avoid the world, makeup streaked and smudged on all of her features, features wracked with inexplicable pain.

Rosie turns from the door, brushing her clammy palms on her sweatpants over and over again, a distractionary stimuli to calm the nerves slowly bubbling beneath her skin. Nerves she hasn’t felt in months, and was determined to never feel again, not after weeks and weeks of the constant feeling of insects crawling beneath her skin, burrowing and biting and squirming. She glances up, finding Hope’s eyes trained on her, hesitant and terrified from across the room, the flat’s lights reflecting in them, her damp cheeks shimmering in the warm colours.

Rosie forces her lips to curl in a tiny smile as she approaches, somewhat slow and cautious, until she can fall into the cushions beside Hope, bloodshot eyes never straying from her movement. Rosie risks a hand on her back, gently skating up and down her spine, an attempt at comfort she doesn’t have a reason to provide. But she provides it anyway, praying it’ll help, it’ll keep the tears from dripping down Hope’s jaw and dampening her top.

Only it doesn’t, only Hope begins to crumble, falling against her and burying her face against Rosie’s shoulder, sobs shaking her shoulders, trembling like the door on its hinges. Rosie wraps her arms around the quaking body clinging to her, murmuring a few quiet assurances, an offer of a lifesaver in the raging sea drowning her. Her hands draw circles on Hope’s vulnerable back, shapes to distract herself with, to ground herself with.

Hope bawls and whimpers and sobs and shakes for what feels like forever to Rosie, a forever that’s odd and uncomfortable, a forever that she doesn’t know what to make of. It’s not that she’s necessarily upset with it - she’s done this for girl friends in the past, she knows how to help a heartbroken woman - it’s just who she’s helping. She hasn’t seen Hope since the finale, since she walked away with her hand clasped in Noah’s, since Rosie split the money with Arjun, just to appease the audience.

He was sweet, sure, but they just didn’t fit. She didn’t feel like he was her other half, her perfect match, a missing piece in the puzzle that constructs her life. She didn’t see herself sacrificing things for him, didn’t see herself working for her relationship with him, didn’t see herself with him, point blank. And Rosie doesn’t do things she can’t see, can’t envision, can’t rationalise.

Which is exactly why she has no idea what to make of the woman dampening and wrinkling her sweater, face pressed to her shoulder and hands fisted in her shirt. “Hey, it’s okay,” she murmurs against Hope’s head, her breath hot where it brushes skin, a shiver running through Hope at the exhale.

This is unfamiliar territory to Rosie, unknown ground as she slowly steps into no man’s land, wary of land mines sitting beneath the dirt. Land mines of glares and scoffs and dismissals, land mines that sat in every corner of the Villa. Maybe in another life this would be normal, be commonplace, but not in this one.

Not in the world where Rosie kissed Noah in the Villa’s lounge that fateful day, that day that she’s regretted ever since. It wasn’t meant to mean anything, it was only supposed to help Priya and Bobby. It wasn’t supposed to cause the end of the world or hurt Hope as much as it did. It wasn’t supposed to confuse Noah as much as it did or leave him dragging things on for ages. It wasn’t supposed to be anything at all, anything but a blatant mistake.

But it was, it was so much, and now here they are, months and months later. Hope hasn’t spoken to Rosie since the finale, and Rosie didn’t even mind. She’s barely kept in touch with anyone, the only people she speaks to being Chelsea and Priya, since they’re always first to reach out. Even in the Villa, Hope would barely speak to her, and it hurt for a while. It hurt that they had been so close and were suddenly so far, but she always forced that hurt away. It was her own fault, it was her actions that led to Hope hating her guts.

Except, maybe she doesn’t hate Rosie’s guts. Maybe she doesn’t want her dead or wish she was never born. Maybe she still thinks about when they were friends like Rosie does. Maybe there’s a reason she’s crying in Rosie’s arms in this moment, that she showed up at Rosie’s door, that she sought out something only Rosie could presumably offer.

Hope swallows thickly, her head turning until her cheek’s resting against Rosie. “We broke up,” Hope croaks, stifling another sob as she forces her voice out again, “I - I dumped Noah.”

“Oh, um…” Rosie fumbles, her hand tracing the length of Hope’s spine beneath her heavy, navy, patterned sweater, “I’m sorry,” she whispers, the words still warm as they settle on Hope’s skin.

“It’s my fault,” she whimpers, turning her face back to Rosie as another tremble courses through her, a barely suppressed noise of anguish dying in her throat.

Rosie resumes her reassurances, her small whispers into Hope’s scalp, her tight hold on Hope’s quivering body. She cycles through every calming technique or phrase she can think of what must be a hundred times over, until Hope quiets, until Rosie stops feeling tears on her neck, until steady, even breathing fills the flat.

She swallows to stabilise herself before asking the all important question, one she’s a little nervous to hear the answer to, “Can I - Can I ask why you’re here? And, uh, so upset? If it was your decision?” she trips over her words, a flower of nerves blossoming in her stomach, and she wants to stamp it out, to stop it from pulling her in once more.

Hope pulls away from, her face set in malleable stone even with tears glistening on her cheekbones, sparkling in the overhead lights Rosie had on, diamonds tumbling down her skin, soft enough not to cut. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I - I didn’t know what to do,” she confesses, her head bowing and eyes staring into her lap.

“Okay,” Rosie nods, a palm still skating up and down the length of Hope’s upper arm, “That’s okay. You don’t have to know. You can just stay here if you want?” she offers uneasily, shifting awkwardly in her spot.

Hope’s eyes flicker up to meet Rosie’s, a cautious hopefulness in them, “I can? It’s not, like, weird?” she mumbles, averting her gaze once more.

“Not if you don’t think it is,” Rosie counters as coolly as she can manage.

Hope shakes her head adamantly, “No, no, I’d… I’d rather not be on my own right now.”

Rosie smiles in what she hopes comes across as encouraging, “That’s cool. You want me to stay out here? We can watch a movie?” she proposes with pinched brows and squinted eyes.

A gentle, hesitant smile quirks Hope’s mouth, “Yeah.” She pauses, contemplative and nodding distractedly, “That’d be great, thanks.”

Rosie rises from the sofa, crossing the living room to flip off the lights and grab the remote and a pile of blankets sitting in the corner. She drops them beside Hope in a heap, crashing onto the opposite side of the sofa a second later. She flicks through streaming services until Hope points out some random romcom, Rosie turning it on as Hope relaxes into the sofa with one of the blankets.

Rosie doesn’t pay much attention to the film, playing with her box braids distractedly and only having a loose grasp on the cheesy plot, but she notices every time Hope laughs, the sound becoming more and more relaxed as time goes on. Rosie sinks into the cushions, her legs folded and arms wrapped around her torso, head lolled against the back of the sofa.

It’s hard to tell when her eyelids fall shut, or when the movie ends, or when Hope moves, but Rosie wakes up to a dark screen flickering through backgrounds and ads for streaming exclusives. She wakes up to Hope’s head resting on her shoulder and a blanket splayed across her lap, as if Hope was worried she’d be cold without it.

She blinks a few times in the dark, taking in the scene around her and slowly processing what her night has become. She only wanted to sit on her phone before going to bed early after her long day at work. She didn’t expect a crying woman to show up at her doorstep or to watch a bad movie until too early in the morning, or to fall asleep in the living room. A sigh shakes her chest, and she reaches for the remote, turning off the telly and settling back into the sofa, Hope shifting beside her with the adjustment.

---

Rosie wakes up to sunlight pouring into her flat and a deserted sofa, blankets the only remnants of Hope’s night spent in the living room. She slumps forward, head in her hands as she adjusts to the too-bright sun and the noise of London already filtering inside, honks of car horns and a hum of people on the streets providing a familiar soundtrack to her wake up.

“I want to get him back,” a voice declares, the words wavering slightly as they fall from lips set in a frown.

“Hmm?” Rosie hums groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she lifts her head, blinking to clear her vision. She finds Hope standing across the room, arms crossed and expression determined as she meets Rosie’s gaze.

“I want to get Noah back, I want to tell him I’m sorry for the breakup,” Hope repeats, her voice sturdier now.

Rosie nods, her mind still foggy but the haze slowly clearing, “Okay. That’s good,” she rationalises slowly, rising from the sofa and stretching her muscles; she’s made a point to avoid sleeping on the sofa normally. She stalks into the kitchen, falling into her usual morning routine easily.

Hope follows behind her, eyes widening, “It is?” she sounds surprised, stopping a ways away from Rosie, feet on the wood.

“Yeah, if you were happy together,” Rosie nods again, turning to her kitchen appliances. She starts with coffee, collecting beans and supplies meticulously as always, setting them out in a particular pattern beside the fridge.

Hope crashes into a barstool at the counter behind Rosie, her voice coming out softer now, “We were,” she confirms.

“Okay,” Rosie shrugs. “So go get him back,” she turns, forearms dropping to the counter beneath her to support her weight. She watches Hope curiously, expecting some explanation or excitement or something of the like, but Hope’s gone silent, her lip slipping between her teeth to worry the skin. Her gaze is trained on the pale countertop, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Hope?” Rosie asks gently.

Dark eyes fly up to meet her own, snapping up too quickly, “Yeah?”

“You okay?” Concern wells in Rosie’s gaze before she can prevent it, her upper body unconsciously leaning forward to inspect Hope and find what’s suddenly irking her.

“Yeah,” Hope nods.

Rosie isn’t quite convinced, her brows knitting together, “You sure?”

Hope’s eyes flicker around the kitchen for a minute to avoid the deep eyes watching her before her shoulders slump, defeated and exhausted, “No,” she mumbles dejectedly.

“What’s wrong?”

A heavy sigh lifts Hope’s shoulders, twitching them lightly “I don’t think he’ll talk to me, not after yesterday.”

Rosie pauses. She hadn’t really considered that, just assumed Noah would be as torn up about the breakup as Hope had been, that he’d been jumping in place if Hope said it was a mistake. Her fingernails tap at the counter as she considers, weighing her options before diving right in, “Do you want me to try?”

Hope’s eyes dart to Rosie again, still just as surprised as earlier, as if everything Rosie does is entirely unbelievable, “You’d do that?”

“I guess?” Rosie gives an awkward shrug, averting her eyes and turning around to continue making coffee. She grabs milk from the fridge before finishing the process, pouring everything into a mug, “Yeah, sure,” she mumbles when she faces Hope again, swirling the dark liquid in a whirlpool.

It’s a long, almost painful amount of time before either of them utter another word. “Thank you,” Hope whispers the words, a tiny break in the quiet of the flat, of the bubble that’s formed in the kitchen.

---

The next day, long after Hope leaves her flat, long after Rosie made eggs and coffee for the both of them, long after Hope gave Rosie a quick hug in thanks, Rosie grabs an Uber to the other side of the city, to the library Noah works at. She strides into the building with her hands knotted in the pockets of her jacket, nerves clamming her palms as she scans the open area she’s found herself in. It’s relatively empty, only a few people sitting and working or browsing shelves idly in the middle of the day.

She searches a few aisles, glancing down empty passageways and passing shelf after shelf loaded with books. A few patrons give her odd looks, some outright glaring at her for her behaviour, but she eventually finds Noah in a back corner, restocking a few shelves in practiced motions, a cart loaded with books parked beside him.

“Hey,” she greets from down the aisle, waving slightly with an uneasy smile when he glances at her in surprise.

He adds the books in his hands to the shelf before turning to face her properly, his expression slightly stunned, “Hey,” he greets back, his tone puzzled as one hand falls to the book cart to lean against.

Rosie ventures further into the aisle, her eyes darting around as she attempts to figure out how to broach the tender subject of a breakup from only two days ago. She stops before him, folding her arms and rolling up and down on her toes, “So…” she starts, looking up at him from beneath her lashes in hopes that he’ll understand what she’s getting at.

He doesn’t, only blinking as he looks at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation for her presence. She sighs, one hand fiddling with the tips of her braids nervously, rolling them between the pads of her fingers, “You and Hope broke up?” she eventually asks, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as she can muster.

His eyes go wide, his jaw falling open, “Um, yeah, but I - Look, you’re really amazing but I think I need a little time, you know, and if you’ll wait, that’s great, but I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything, but again, you’re amazing, I just…” he trails off as he takes in the confusion on her face, a blush growing on his cheeks.

Then it clicks, “Oh!” she startles. “No, no, I - mate, I didn’t come to hit on you,” she clarifies, somewhat taken aback by the conclusion he so quickly jumped to. “I’m not here to ask you out, no,” she reiterates.

He nods swiftly, muttering a few apologies under his breath before clearing his throat. “So, um, why are you here then?” he asks, careful and wary of saying something else wrong.

Rosie shifts on her feet, hands falling back to fidget in her jacket pocket’s, “Well… I kinda got the impression that Hope regrets the way things went down and wants to try again,” she forces, drawing herself to her full height, still a few inches shorter than the man before her.

Confusion flickers on his face, “How’d you get that impression?”

“I talked to her.”

The confusion grows, a crease splitting his eyebrows, “She talked to you?”

“She showed up at my flat,” Rosie answers casually.

“Why?”

She shrugs, mumbling out an “I dunno” in response.

“And you’re fine with that? And you’re helping her?” his arms cross over his chest as he asks, staring down at her intently, intimidatingly.

“Yeah,” she shrinks under his gaze, drawing her jacket tighter to block out the sudden chill coursing down her spine.

Noah’s lips twist, though in frustration or anger or upset, Rosie can’t tell. “Why?” he repeats.

Rosie sighs, shrugging again at the lack of a better answer, offering her best explanation, “She was really torn up about it.”

“She dumped me,” he states calmly, matter-of-factly, dismissively.

“I know.”

He watches Rosie carefully for a moment, taking in her appearance as she shuffles on her feet, unable to conceive of where this conversation is going next. “Do you know why?” he finally asks, Rosie stilling at the question.

“No,” she admits reluctantly.

“I got lunch with Priya, alone.”

“Well, yeah, that’s not great,” sarcasm soaks her words, coating her throat as the syllables escape.

Noah blinks at her, still stern and calm, “Because Ibrahim and Marisol had to cancel.”

“Oh,” Rosie freezes, her body tensing uncomfortably. That changes things. She swallows thickly, eyebrows raising and curving together, “Does she know that?”

“I tried to tell her.”

“Maybe she’ll listen now.”

“She never does,” Noah shrugs, his demeanor unchanged and unaffected.

She looks to him in disbelief, “That can’t be true.”

He heaves a heavy sigh, his guard finally cracking as his arms fall back to his sides, disappointment radiating from him like warmth from a fire, “For my birthday she got me The Old Man and the Sea,” he looks at Rosie as if he expects her to understand what that means.

“Okay…” she squints. She knows enough about literature to know it’s a classic, that most students have to read it at one point, herself included. “Why’s that bad? You’re a librarian.”

Noah’s lips curve in a slight frown as he straightens impossibly taller, “I hate Hemingway,” he nearly spits the name, a frown splitting Rosie’s own lips at his obvious displeasure.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

---

Hope shows up at Rosie’s flat again that night, her features fraught as she hurries in, hugging herself tight with her coat. She drops onto the sofa after she enters, Rosie following a beat behind and folding her legs on the cushions, Hope nearly vibrating in her skin as she watches Rosie expectantly.

When Rosie only meets her gaze, she sighs exasperatedly, “Well? What’d he say? He didn’t text me or anything,” she leans forward, eager to learn.

Rosie shifts under the excitement presented to her, excitement she knows is about to die, “He, uh, he wasn’t really on board with you guys getting back together,” she mumbles, avoiding shining eyes.

Hope visibly deflates in only a heartbeat, her bottom lip poking out as tears well in her eyes, every part of her depressed and hurt, “He wasn’t?” Her voice is small, painfully so to Rosie’s ears.

She forces herself not to cringe at the tone, at the way Hope’s fighting tears once more, “No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, you’ve done a lot,” Hope sniffles, wiping at her nose and blinking back tears to calm herself, to prevent another onslaught of sobs on Rosie’s sofa. “You’ve done a lot,” she repeats, eyes trained on the fabric of the cushions beneath them, staring intently just to have something to focus her energy on. “Did he say why?” she finally asks after a minute, breaking the brief silence that had settled over them.

“Er -” Rosie squirms, fidgeting nervously, “He said he didn’t think you really listened to him,” she draws out the words, not wanting to speak them.

Hope is absolutely appalled, her jaw falling open in horror, “That’s - That’s not true!” she eventually manages the words, her mouth fumbling them.

“I know, but -”

“I listen!” she insists, hands flying up to grip Rosie’s forearm desperately, in search of confirmation that she’s a good person, a good partner, “Why would he say that, Rosie?” she’s panicked as her grasp tightens, falling away only a second later, “Why would he say that?” she repeats, softer now, a whisper.

“He said for his birthday you got him a Hemingway book,” Rosie chances.

Hope’s arms fold over her chest protectively, “He didn’t have any Hemingway.”

“‘Cause he hates Hemingway,” Rosie explains as gently as she can, Hope immediately slumping again, any retorts or defences forgotten.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet, Hope staring at nothing and Rosie staring at Hope, waiting for something to change, waiting for her to get sad or angry or maybe just leave all together. But she doesn’t, meeting Rosie’s eyes with a fire inside her own, “I need something else.” She’s determined as she sinks into the cushions, thinking raptly of some solution. “What if I get him a gift?” a lightbulb seems to explode above her head as she sits up again.

Rosie blinks at the quick change in mood, taken aback at the grin sitting on Hope’s lips. “Like what?”

“He likes Greyhounds?” Hope proposes with a tilt of her head and a quirk of an eyebrow, “He always said he’d love to have one.”

“You’re gonna buy him an entire dog?” Rosie asks in shock, her tone stunted and sharp.

Hope scowls at her in irritation, “He likes them!” she defends, “He’s talked about them a lot, and it’ll show I listen, right?”

“I guess?”

“What do you mean you guess?”

Hands fly up in self-defence and attempted placation, “This is your relationship, I don’t know him or what goes,” Rosie gestures in the air separating her from Hope, working to diffuse the tension.

Hope huffs, crossing her arms and collapsing into the cushions behind her, “Fine.”

---

Hope spends the next few days looking up shelters and breeders, trying to decide on a puppy or an adult or even an elderly dog, researching proper care for a Greyhound and what they need. Rosie doesn’t see or hear from Hope until her phone’s ringing incessantly as she gets out of the shower, scrambling to answer it and silence the buzzing, “Hello?” she asks without even reading the Caller ID, fumbling to turn on speakerphone.

“Hey!” Hope’s voice crackles through the speaker, bright and energetic. “I found one!” she announces, clearly pleased with herself and her findings.

“Hmm?” Rosie questions distractedly, tightening her towel wrapped around her body and grabbing skin and hair products to set them on the bathroom sink.

“I found a dog! I went to a shelter!”

Rosie nods, only realising afterwards that Hope can’t see her, sighing as she coats her face in moisturiser. “That’s great,” she hums again.

“Can you come over tonight? And we bring him to Noah’s flat? Please?” her voice is begging as it rings through the phone, Rosie glancing to it as Hope draws out the vowels of her plea.

“Uh, yeah, I think I’m free,” she mumbles, her mouth twisting as she applies products.

She’s reaching for the end call button after a long silence when a quiet murmur surprises her, “Thank you,” Hope whispers into her phone from the other side of the line.

A small smile curves Rosie’s mouth, “No problem.”

---

“You’re the worst,” Hope groans as she tugs on a leash, glaring at Rosie and her amused smile beside her.

“Says the one that dragged me into this,” Rosie grins, popping her eyebrows for effect. She’s refused to assist with the dog the entire time, forcing Hope to try and wrangle the full grown animal.

It darts forward down the street, yanking Hope along, “Hey!” she chastises, Rosie laughing unabashedly from behind her, jogging to catch up. “You could help, you know! He listened to you earlier!”

Rosie smirks, “Oh, I know. This is much more fun, though,” she teases, falling into another fit of laughter as Hope digs her heels into the pavement, working to pull the dog back.

He doesn’t listen, carrying on in the direction of the library. Noah wasn’t at his flat, so they’ve been forced to take a short detour to find him without waiting. “At least he knows where he’s going,” Rosie comments, still grinning.

Hope shoots her a scowl, “How lucky,” she spits through gritted teeth, her jaw tight as she uses all her strength to keep the dog from running off into London’s streets.

Rosie sighs as Hope nearly trips over her own feet, crouching down and whistling sharply. The dog turns, bolting for her, nearly tackling her to the ground until she grips his fur to keep upright, cooing over him the entire time. Hope’s gaze is a mix of disappointed, annoyed, and mildly impressed as Rosie grins up at her, scratching the dog behind his ears.

She pops back to her feet, stealing the leash from Hope in one smooth motion, “You’re welcome,” she hums, setting back off on their path, the dog following obediently on her heels.

She hears Hope groaning about it behind her until she catches up, muttering a ‘thanks’ under her breath, much to Rosie’s enjoyment. The rest of the walk is relatively quiet, only a few good natured ribbings from Rosie or complaints from Hope filling the space as they work their way to the library, street lamps illuminating much of their path in the dark evening.

Noah spots them before they spot him, the pair distracted as Rosie laughs at Hope’s grumbling, Rosie nearly walking into a post as she struggles to stay upright. “Stop it!” Hope chides, slapping her shoulder, which only makes Rosie laugh even harder.

“Um, hi?” Noah calls out to them, earning their gazes simultaneously. Hope stiffens, Rosie sobers, and the dog slobbers onto the pavement beneath their feet.

Rosie passes the leash back to Hope, taking a step back and away from their reunion, much to Noah’s confusion. “Hi,” Hope greets back, his eyes settling back on her.

“What are you guys doing out here?” he asks, his tone slipping into something adjacent to wariness, maybe light caution.

A bright smile curves Hope’s mouth and she sticks her hand out, offering the leash and the dog attached to it, “I got you a dog!” she announces eagerly, “I know how much you’ve always wanted one, so…” she trails off at his expression.

His eyebrows are drawn tight, lips working to form some words, “You got me a dog?!” he balks, his expression soon slipping into anger, almost a snarl, with his eyes blazing. Hope taking a step away from him, blinking rapidly as her mind audibly whirs.

“You always said you wanted one!” she explains, a spark igniting in her own dark eyes, threatening to start a fight.

“That doesn’t - What were you thinking?!”

Hope’s jaw sets tight, but it’s not enough to hide the shimmer in her eyes, “You like them, I know you do! And you don’t think I listen, but I do, so I’m proving that to you!” she counters, her voice raising.

Noah looks baffled, his hands flying and mouth opening and closing as he searches for words, “He won’t fit in my flat, Hope! He’s big and - and has a ton of energy!” he gestures wildly to the dog that’s found his way to Rosie, sitting in front of her as she scratches behind his ear.

“I thought that’s what you liked about them!” Hope’s own arms are waving, in both exasperation and irritation. One hand rises to fidget with her braids, tugging on and fiddling with a few.

“Yeah, for when I’m in a house, not a tiny flat!” Noah shouts back, “I can’t have him! I don’t want him!”

Any fire that had been blazing in Hope’s dark eyes dies out at that, at the way Noah’s glaring at her, at the way he’s dismissed her peace offering, her attempt to fix things between them. “But -”

“You can’t just -” he huffs sharply before trying to school his expression into something calmer, “You can’t just do these things without asking, it’s like you don’t even care what I think.”

Hope looks horrified, like her world is turning to ash right before her, and maybe it is, maybe this is the end of everything for her, “That’s not - I care! This is how I care! I - I pay attention and try and do things for you!”

“I don’t want you to do things for me!” Noah counters, hands balling into angry fists at his sides.

“Why not?” Hope asks indignantly, head tilted back to meet Noah’s gaze directly, her chest puffed out in a show of confidence.

Noah flounders, his jaw snapping shut, visibly rolling with tension as he searches for a reason, exploding when he can’t find one, “I just don’t! I can do things myself, Hope, I don’t need you railroading me like you always do! I’m tired of it, it’s not worth it!” he accuses, his last words effectively severing any chance at reconciliation.

Hope slumps, her shoulders sagging and face drooping, every muscle in her body going lax, as if she’s melting from heartache. Noah exhales sharply, his own shoulders dropping, losing some of the tension keeping them upright as he drags a hand through his hair, playing with it to calm himself further.

Rosie keeps to the side, not sure of her place, not sure if she’s meant to intervene, and only watches Hope stand with her head turned to the ground, braids blocking her face from view as she remains frozen, unmoving, her feet stuck to the ground and her body tense. “I’m sorry.” The words are barely audible, fractures of the typical strength in her voice, before she turns on her heel, dropping the dog’s leash and running away with tears in her eyes.

Noah deflates as she leaves, his hands balled up tight to steady himself, his face scrunched up in thought and frustration and likely a dozen other emotions as he struggles to process them. He slumps forward, his previous fight and irritation dissipating into the air, the dog still sitting at Rosie’s feet, tongue lolling and a whine echoing from him.

All the while, Rosie struggles for words, for a reaction, for something appropriate, but all she can think about is the way Hope collapsed before him, like the sight is imprinted on her mind. “Come on, mate,” she finally breaks the quiet, “You didn’t have to be that harsh,” she comments, deep creases in her own forehead and between her brows.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Noah mumbles, head down in shame as he stares at the ground, blank and empty save for the rise of his chest with each breath.

Rosie steps closer as the silence drags on, scooping up the abandoned leash and glancing over her shoulder and finding Hope long gone as she does. Her hand rises to his shoulder, gripping it loosely, “I know,” she shrugs weakly, squeezing the muscles beneath her palm. “Sorry about the dog,” she offers.

Noah laughs a little, but it’s splintered on the edges and lacking any real joy or amusement, “It’s fine. My mum’ll love him, I’m sure.”

Rosie nods sagely, retracting her hand carefully before gesturing over her shoulder, “I’m gonna, uh, go after her,” she mutters, turning on her heel and hurrying after Hope.

She finds her slumped against a wall half a block away, staring at nothing with tears streaming down her face as her lip quivers with barely restrained sobs. Rosie skids to a stop beside her, earning Hope’s attention momentarily, before she turns back to staring at nothing. She’s hollow, her gaze empty, barely there as she drifts through her mind and the storm that must be filling it like a hurricane. Rosie doesn’t say anything, only leans against the wall beside the destitute woman, eyes trained on the glimmers coating her cheeks, lit by street lamps around them.

“I just,” Hope finally begins after a long, painstakingly silent moment, “I don’t get it.” She sniffles, “I - I know we weren’t perfect, but I just… I thought we meant more than we must have.” Her voice falls apart on the last few words, cracking and splintering into a tiny, fragile whisper.

Rosie nods in understanding, pulling Hope into her arms without uttering a single word, holding her close and letting her fall apart once more, shaking under the weight of Rosie’s arms around her, burying her face in her shoulder. Her hands fist in the fabric of Rosie’s shirt, an anchor to attach herself to as the hurricane blows and wrecks and destroys her insides.

Hope’s tired of letting go, of giving in or giving up, of letting her world dissolve in her hands because fighting’s too much of a risk, a hazard, a danger to her. She’s tired of ignoring the things that rub her the wrong way, that send a cold chill down her spine, that fill her skull with a swirling mass of dark and awful thoughts. She’s tired of all the hurt and the fighting, of the way her skin turns a sickly green every time someone gets too close, of the headaches and nausea that accompany one of his unbothered shrugs.

She’s tired of it, she’s done with it, she’s not going to fight anymore, not when he doesn’t fight for her. Not when Rosie is the one she’s been leaning on, not when Rosie is the one that’s been consoling her, not when Rosie is the one that’s been nice, and caring, and sweet, and gentle, and there.

Hope shifts, freeing her face from Rosie’s top as the tears come to a stop, but keeping her head resting against her shoulder. “Why couldn’t it have been like this?” she whispers into the air, a quiet pondering that’s directed more to herself than the woman wrapped around her.

“Hmm?” Rosie hums, pulling back to look down at Hope, finding her gaze distant as she stares into the space before her, eyes piercing into the street stretching before them. “What do you mean?” Rosie murmurs down to her, finally drawing dark eyes to her own.

They’re averted just as quickly, Hope pressing her cheek even further into Rosie’s shoulder, and Rosie swears she sees some colour rush to Hope’s face. “I dunno,” she mumbles, gaze trained on nothing in particular. “It’s just… easier. Comforting. You let me do this and you’re sweet about it.”

“Noah seems pretty sweet,” Rosie mumbles awkwardly, still unsure where the line is, how Hope feels about him, how she wants to feel about him and their relationship.

Her shoulders raise in a miniscule, half-hearted shrug, “Yeah, but he doesn’t really get it. He doesn’t get it when I’m upset or mad. He’s too calm,” her lips twist at the statement, displeased at the memories.

Rosie snorts, above her, Hope’s eyes darting upwards, “What, and I’m a raving madwoman, is that?” she grins, the tension of the moment falling away with ease.

Hope’s mouth curves at the edges as she slips from Rosie’s grasp just enough to slap her arm, a common reaction to the older woman’s antics, Rosie feigning pain and rubbing at the spot instantly. “No!” Hope chides, “But you get it,” she settles back against Rosie, “Or at least you get what to do. Noah would try and fix it or tell me to ignore it or whatever, but you just let me be.”

Rosie shrugs, some heat rising to her cheeks as she glances towards the empty street beside them, fumbling for a response. She defaults to finding somewhere that will bring Hope some sort of solace, “Okay, let’s get you home,” she sighs, ignoring the heat on the back of her neck to the best of her ability.

Hope removes herself from Rosie’s hold entirely this time, stepping back and folding her arms while shifting from foot to foot. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” she asks with a twist of her lips, looking to Rosie from beneath her lashes.

“Sure,” Rosie grins, slinging her arm over Hope’s shoulders to guide her through the streets to her car, Hope leaning into her with ease as they trade some small conversation.

---

A day later and there’s a knock on Rosie’s door from across the flat, a short, sharp knock. She sighs, grabbing a dish towel and dusting off her hands before exiting the kitchen and the mess of ingredients within it. Another knock sounds on the wood, impatient as it continues on and on, Rosie hurrying to reach the door.

She jerks it open to find Hope on the other side of the threshold, beaming with her fist still poised in the air and a bottle of wine in her other hand. “Hi!” she greets, stepping past Rosie into the flat and scanning the open area curiously.

“Hey?” Rosie tries, shutting the door behind Hope and leaning against it, arms crossed and towel in hand. “Should I have been expecting you?” she asks, cycling through her day in her mind to double-check.

“Nope!” Hope turns, still grinning, “But I brought wine!” she offers the bottle proudly, swinging it for emphasis.

Rosie nods, one brow raised, “I can see that.”

Hope’s smile dims, slowly falling away as Rosie doesn’t say anything more, evidently a sign of annoyance. “Sorry,” she bows her head. “I shouldn’t have come, should I? I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do tonight,” she confesses, her words rushing in a hurry to explain herself.

Rosie pushes herself upright from the door, stepping away from the threshold and closer to Hope, “I take it you usually spend evenings with Noah?”

Hope only nods in response, head still down in embarrassment and resignation. Her arms are slack at her side, the wine bottle dangling loosely in her grasp as she awaits Rosie’s harsh words telling her to leave and not come back.

“Well, I’m making dinner right now and I always make too much,” Rosie states, no edge in her voice, no malice in her words, “Take your shoes off and it’ll be done in about a half hour.” Rosie turns, striding back into the kitchen and leaving Hope to collect herself.

She joins Rosie a few minutes later in her socks, her smile repaired as she drops into a barstool across from Rosie, placing the wine bottle on the counter, a glimmer in her eyes as she presents it, pushing it across the counter. Rosie laughs in response, nicking it and pulling out wine glasses. She pours a drink for each of them, Hope draining hers rather quickly as she talks about her day, Rosie stealing a few sips as she cooks.

Rosie presents the finished dinner with a flourish to Hope, earning a laugh as she takes the plate. Rosie rounds the kitchen, dropping into the stool beside Hope and taking a swig of her wine. “So what’d you do today?” Hope prompts curiously, cutting into the chicken Rosie made and taking a bite.

“Usual stuff. Trained today, the new player’s are adjusting pretty well, and then ran a few errands. Usual stuff,” she shrugs, taking a bite of asparagus.

“That’s fun,” Hope hums encouragingly, smiling wide when Rosie glances to her. She nearly chokes on her food at the sight, coughing and laughing at the same time as Hope watches in confusion and concern, “What’s happening? Are you okay?” she turns in her seat to face Rosie directly, hands hovering, unsure of where to land.

Rosie waves her off, still working to catch her breath and stop laughing, something made infinitely more difficult by Hope hitting her on the back to presumably help her dislodge something. “I’m fine!” she croaks, working to suck in deep breaths.

“Are you sure? What happened?” Hope asks again, hand on the back of Rosie’s seat, just in case.

Rosie chuckles briefly before pressing her lips together, forcing neutrality that barely holds together, “You were just very serious in your excitement over groceries.” She bites her tongue to keep from laughing again.

“Is that really it?” Rosie nods to confirm, suppressing more giggles. Hope’s eyes roll, a groan escaping from her throat, “You’re the worst.”

Now Rosie can barely hold it back, dissolving into giggles as Hope scowls, picking at her meal as Rosie struggles to find air. “Says the one eating my food,” she grins when she finally catches her breath.

“What’s that mean?” Hope turns with a glare.

Rosie draws herself taller, even sitting down she’s got some height on Hope, “It means you showed up at my door unannounced and stole all my hard work,” she accuses coolly.

“I brought you wine!” Hope frowns, gesturing to the bottle in her defence.

Rosie raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her lips, “Who’s the one drinking it all?”

That shuts Hope up, Rosie earning a scowl as they turn back to their dinners, Hope staying quiet until Rosie brings up her job. Then she’s beaming and telling every detail of her workplace she can think of, every coworker that’s weird or mean or nice or funny, every aspect of career that she loves.

The conversation flows alongside the wine, until the bottle’s empty and the pair’s slouched on the sofa, facing each other on opposite ends. Hope fumbles for her phone, pulling it out and wincing at the time, “I need to go home.” She turns, standing up what must be too quickly because she drops back to the cushions.

Rosie shifts forward too, folding her legs before her, “Did you drive here?”

Braids jangle as Hope nods, her eyes falling shut as she slowly leans back into the cushions again. Rosie sighs, finding it much easier to stand than Hope, and grabs a blanket, draping it across her lap, “Just stay here.

Hope’s eyes squint open, looking up at Rosie with dilated pupils, “You sure?” she mumbles, her words slurring together from the alcohol that had coated her tongue.

“Yeah, you’re not getting in a wreck on my watch,” Rosie hums, collecting their glasses and the empty bottle before striding into the kitchen. She puts the glasses in the sink and the bottle on the counter beside it to deal with tomorrow, then retraces her steps to the living room.

Hope’s curled up on the sofa already, the blanket tucked under her chin, and Rosie smiles at the sight and absurdity of a drunk Hope asleep in her flat. She shakes her head, turning to her bedroom and stalking inside, collapsing on the bed as soon as she can, passing out as soon as her head hits the pillow.

---

Hope continues coming to Rosie’s flat a few times a week, sometimes with an offering of wine or takeaway in hand, sometimes with nothing more than herself. They watch movies and talk and laugh about stupid things from the Villa or stories from their lives until their tired from long days or it’s three in the morning and they still don’t stop talking.

Sometimes Hope sits in an armchair and responds to emails while Rosie paces the length of the flat with her phone pressed to her ear, talking down one of her players or fighting with managers. Sometimes there’s not a single word spoken between them, sometimes all they do is talk, sometimes Rosie makes dinner, sometimes it’s late enough that they’ve both already eaten, sometimes Hope shows up after Rosie has already gone to bed, sometimes Hope even beats her home in the afternoon.

There’s no pattern to any of it, there’s no rhythm, nothing concrete to Hope’s appearances, but Rosie soon finds that she doesn’t even mind. It’s actually kind of nice, to have someone around without any expectations. It’s kind of nice that Hope brings her soup when she gets a cold, or how Hope somehow always has wine on hand for when they need it, or how Hope tidies the flat when she’s especially busy.

It’s a casual night tonight, popcorn and drinks sitting on the coffee table as a movie plays across from them in the dark. Rosie picked tonight, a drama about a hockey team one of her players always recommends, since she couldn’t think of anything else but was not definitely not watching another of Hope’s romcoms twice in a row. They’d been snacking all night, splitting a pizza in the evening as Hope worked on some project and Rosie scrolled her phone, a silence seeping into the flat.

Rosie watches the film in a similar silence now, watches the flickering of light as it reflects and refracts off every available surface in the room. A contented sigh vibrates in her throat as she settles further into the sofa, pulling the blanket she’s enthralled within tighter. She sinks into the cushions, shifting her legs and letting her knees brush against Hope’s thighs.

Speaking of, she can see the other woman watching her in the dark, eyes trained on Rosie’s features, inspecting them carefully as blues and yellows and reds and dozens of other hues play in her dark irises, glinting off and mixing with them. Rosie glances over, finding a crease between Hope’s brows as she stares at something below Rosie’s eyes that she can’t quite place. She smiles softly in the dim lighting, teasingly, “What?” she asks, “Something on my face?”

Only she doesn’t get the chance to ask the second question, because suddenly there is absolutely something on her face, something that she doesn’t think should be there and was not at all anticipating, but honestly doesn’t entirely mind. Hope’s lips are on hers, soft and nice and there.

Hope’s kissing her. Hope’s kissing her, and it’s tentative and cautious and careful, like Hope’s gaze was a moment ago, and it all makes sense in an instant. She blinks, stunned and shocked, until her lashes flutter shut and she’s kissing Hope back. She melts into her, a hand rising to cup Hope’s cheek and draw her closer, a hand fisting in the front of her shirt to close the space between them.

When they finally break for air, a sigh slips past Hope’s lips as their lips separate, still brushing against each other, their breath mingling in the small gap. “Um, what…?” Rosie whispers against the lips on hers, unable to find a conclusion to the question.

“I - I don’t know,” Hope whispers, just as quiet, “Sorry,” she murmurs, pulling back.

Rosie watches her go, hurt welling inside her gut at the regret evident on Hope’s face, “Why?”

Hope shakes her head, like she’s frustrated with something, though Rosie doesn’t know what. “Didn’t ask,” is all she says, leaning away and turning back to the film still playing.

Rosie’s following her retreat without even realising, chasing after Hope unconsciously. “Didn’t mind.”

“Really?” Hope’s eyes snap to her, wide with clear surprise at the admission.

“I mean, maybe a little warning next time, but…” Rosie shrugs, unbothered.

Dark eyes glimmer, lit by the films rainbow of lighting, “Next time?”

“If you want.”

Hope shifts, facing Rosie head on, “Do you want a next time?” she asks carefully, emphasising the importance of the question with wide eyes.

A smirk lifts the corner of Rosie’s mouth, “First time was pretty good, so yeah.”

“Only ‘pretty good’?” Hope teases, leaning closer again, close enough for Rosie to see faint specks sparkling in her irises.

“Yep,” Rosie nods, resolute as her face solidifies into sharp stone. “Not about to stroke your ego.”

Hope groans, “You’re the worst.”

“Says the one that kissed me first,” Rosie teases right back, her smirk only growing at Hope’s annoyance, however played up it may be.

“Shut up,” Hope whines.

“No thanks,” Rosie grins, ready to start a spiel about everything she’s learned annoys Hope in the past few months, everything that earns a groan or a sigh or an eye roll, everything that makes her glare or scowl or slap Rosie’s arm even though it doesn’t hurt. “I think I’m -”

Hope’s kissing her again, only this time it’s deeper, filled with fire as Hope’s hands slip around to cup the back of her head, pulling Rosie ever closer and holding her there. Rosie’s own hands slide along Hope’s body, landing on her thighs and tugging her forward on the cushions, until their bodies are pressed together, with lips locked together. A groan slips from Hope’s throat, Rosie humming at the noise and sending her hands exploring in search of more sounds, palms grazing Hope’s exposed navel, muscles twitching beneath skin.

Hope splits them apart, her forehead pressing against Rosie’s gently, her panting breaths sending a shiver down Rosie’s spine. “What are we now?” her words only amplifying the effect.

“Whatever you want us to be,” Rosie answers easily, the question seeming unnecessary, “You’re kinda taking the reins here.”

Hope pauses, her hands clasped behind Rosie’s neck and thumbs brushing her skin idly. “Are we already dating?” she asks after a long moment.

“What do you mean?”

“We do a lot of coupley stuff,” Hope shrugs a bit, her lips twisting in contemplation, “We hang out all the time and I stay over and you make dinner and we watch movies,” she lists off.

Rosie pulls away, putting enough space between them to take in all of Hope, “Do you wanna carry on like this?”

Hope blinks, like she wasn’t expecting that question, “Yeah,” she answers, a little indignantly.

“Okay,” Rosie nods along, “Do you wanna call it dating?”

Hope stalls, eyes falling away as she considers, her voice coming out smaller than before when it finally does, “...Yeah.”

“Then we’re dating,” Rosie smiles sweetly at her, Hope’s expression softening at the sight.

Until it sharpens quickly, determination building in her eyes, “We have to go on a date,” she states evenly, matter-of-factly.

“Does that make it official?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Rosie shrugs, falling back against the arm of the sofa casually, a wicked grin splitting her lips, “But you’re taking me out,” she warns.

Hope’s brow furrows at the declaration, the surety of it, “What? Why?”

“You started this, now it’s your problem,” Rosie smirks as Hope frowns, her eyes narrowing into a glare in the dark of the flat.

“You’re the absolute worst.”

“Says the one taking me on a date,” Rosie wiggles in her spot, falling back further and slipping her feet into Hope’s lap, Hope harrumphing and shoving them off with a scowl, much to Rosie’s amusement.

---

Hope drags Rosie out to a cafe in the morning, grinning the entire time she avoids telling Rosie where they’re even going, laughing at all of Rosie’s off-base guesses and humming ‘warmer’ when she gets something right.

She holds Rosie’s hand the entire time, occasionally swinging their interlocked digits between them or fiddling with Rosie’s fingers, as if they’re the most fascinating thing Hope can conceive of. And maybe they are. Maybe the way their hands fit together is strange, maybe the way they’re so close in size is odd, maybe the way Rosie squeezes her hand or traces circles along her knuckles idly is puzzling.

She pulls Rosie to a stop at the mouth of an alley, earning a confused expression in turn as Rosie looks around, “What are we doing here?” she spins in a slow circle, taking in the desolate street around them, a backroad with a small boutique, a pawn shop, and an auto body place. “Are you going to mug me?” she asks with twisted lips when she faces Hope again.

A laugh bubbles out of Hope and she swats at Rosie’s arm, a pleased smile curving Rosie’s mouth. “No!” Hope chastises, before pausing, her jaw clamping shut. “Close your eyes,” she demands a beat later.

“Okay, you’re definitely mugging me.”

“Just do it,” Hope whines. “Please?” she smiles, sweet as candy, Rosie immediately giving in with a roll of her eyes. “Perfect,” Hope squeezes Rosie’s hand tight, gently tugging her further into the alley.

“This is a very elaborate ruse to mug me, you know,” Rosie comments, eyes still squeezed shut, a hand on her lower back leading her.

Hope huffs exasperatedly, “Would you stop it?”

“Just saying. You already know where I live and when I have work, you don’t have to mug me.”

“Stop it or I really am gonna mug you.”

Rosie grins victoriously, reveling in the way she doesn’t even have to see Hope’s face to know how irritated she is, that she can tell from voice alone, “Knew it.”

“Shut. Up,” Hope’s teeth are gritted as she glares at Rosie with her dopey smile and closed eyes.

“Fine, fine,” Rosie concedes, “Just leave my money alone.”

“Just your money?”

Rosie faces Hope regardless of sight, “What’s that meant to mean? You want my phone, too?”

“Just checking if you’re available then,” Hope teases playfully, still gently leading.

Rosie pauses to consider, “Depends,” she finally lands on.

“On what?” Hope challenges.

“What you want out of me,” Rosie answers carefully, “I’m not mugging people with you.”

Hope barely suppresses an eye roll, “You’re the worst.”

“Aw, you really care,” Rosie coos, her hands clasping above her heart dramatically.

“I care about your money.”

Another victorious smile, “Knew it. Golddigger.”

“Arsehole.”

“Says the mugger.”

A sigh’s Rosie’s only response as they come to a stop somewhere, Hope’s arms draping around Rosie’s shoulders and her lips pecking Rosie’s. Her hands instinctively land on Hope’s hips, “Okay, open your eyes,” Hope hums.

Rosie obliges, blinking a few times to adjust to the sunlight, smiling down at Hope as her vision clears. “This it? Lotta theatrics. Coulda just stayed in for this view,” she teases.

Hope shakes her head exasperatedly, but it’s not enough to hide the smile on her lips, “Look around.”

She does, lifting her head away from Hope and finding them on a busier street the alley emptied onto. There’s a little café right in front of her, somewhat secluded from the rest of the street, with fogged windows and blurs of colour inside. No one’s moving in or out of the building, and it’s small enough that only a few patrons could possibly be inside.

Rosie’s eyes fall back to Hope and her smile, “What is this place?” she asks softly, bewonderment lessening the edge of her tongue at the quiet little escape she’s been led to.

“My favourite café. It’s really small and has the same regulars and everyone’s super nice and wonderful.” Hope bites her lip, as if she’s hesitating or nervous about something, “I found it after the show, when there was so much attention everywhere I went, and no one even knew me, so I started coming all the time.”

Rosie nods along, staring into Hope’s eyes intently to ground her, to show she understands. And she really does. She understands how hard it was with the editing and the pressure of the show. She understands how bad the backlash online was at times, when people would shit on them for anything. She understands how necessary it was to find a place to withdraw, to have people that didn’t care and just let her continue on with her job.

“Well, let’s go,” Hope’s arms retract from around Rosie’s shoulders, hands sliding down to grip Rosie’s and pull her along to the café. She swings the door open with a grin, a bell ringing above their heads. Not a single patron glances their way, most typing away at laptops or scrolling their phones as they sip drinks and slowly pick at food.

Only an employee takes notice, waving at Hope with a welcoming smile as he wipes down a countertop. She gently leads Rosie to the till, immediately falling into a conversation with the man as Rosie scans the menu and the shop. There’s booths on one wall, most empty, small tables filling the front, and a mural of different climates and natural environments on the wall opposite the booths.

“What do you want?” Hope asks, turning to Rosie as the employee stands waiting, his hands on his hips and a slight smile curling his mouth.

She smiles back before glancing at the menu and the dozens of items written across it. “Um,” her eyes scan over drink after drink, the letters whirring together. “Iced vanilla latte for now?” she tries, meeting the employees eyes.

“Ooh, me too!” Hope chimes, squeezing Rosie’s hand excitedly.

The employee - Chris, on his name tag - smiles even brighter, “Coming right up.”

Hope tugs Rosie away before Chris has even turned all the way around, pulling her along to a booth and collapsing into one side. Rosie follows, settling across from her, their hands still loosely linked together on the table, Hope’s thumb tracing the lines of Rosie’s palm.

Something sparks in the back of Rosie’s mind at the contact, in the pit of her stomach, in the thump of her heart, and she can’t quite place it, but she knows she likes it. She knows she likes this moment, too, the way Hope looks so at ease and relaxed, the way Hope brought her to her hidden spot, the way Hope tried to make breakfast before opting for the café. She likes the way this is going, they way they work together, even from before they realised there was something more to them than platonic movie nights. She likes how casual it was, how easy it came about, how relaxed she is as long as Hope’s there.

And she likes the way they just fit. They fit like one another’s other half, their perfect match, the missing pieces in the puzzles that construct their lives. And she can see herself sacrificing things for the woman sitting across from her, can see herself working for this relationship and all its inevitable flaws, can see herself in this moment forever, without a doubt in her mind. And Rosie doesn’t do things she can’t see, can’t envision, can’t rationalise.

But she can see Hope’s smile, can envision countless Sunday mornings spent at this little café, can rationalise the way her heart flutters at every laugh. This makes perfect sense, every detail and every second is reasonable and real and means so much more than Rosie ever thought they’d mean.

[alchemy-sandra]

MLQC: Victor x MC A Chance of Rain

Ok, here is my first fanfic ever so please be gentle with me. I tried my best to edit, but I suck at it. I originally started this idea when @alloveroliver kinktober came out but got caught up in my masters program and didnt finish on time. Fast forward to quarintine and now I have the time to finish. 

Title: A Chance of Rain 

Summary: This takes place before the recent chapter releases. Mc visits Victor at a worksite but due to an unexpected rainshower things go from professional to inappropriate at record pace. 

Rating: Explicit smut aka 18+ only

Prompt: Accidental Stimulation

Warnings: semi-public sex,oral, blowjob, profanity 

Words:3145

You quickly shut the door to your apartment and tapped in 4452 on the door code to set the alarm before walking to the elevator. You could only pray that today would be over soon. Victor had instructed that you visit him at a new development property he had obtained in a mass merger with another company. He was planning on visiting all the sites today and would not return to the office until tomorrow. You still could not fathom why Victor had such specific dates set for the production company’s reports, but beggars can’t be choosers after all. Once the elevator arrived at the bottom floor, you crossed the threshold of the apartment’s atrium and hit the pavement outside. It was a blustery, gray day with just a hint of rain in the air. You had checked the weather this morning and rain was not forecasted until later this evening. You moved up the sidewalk and checked to make sure of the property’s location before setting off. It was only six blocks away after all and shouldn’t take me more than 15 minutes to get there. However, about 10 minutes into your journey, you felt a raindrop hit your forehead.

“Oh no! Why did I have to listen to the forecast?” you screeched as the rain rushed in and started falling heavier. You quickened your pace holding your purse above your head, trying to shield your face from the onslaught of rain. By the time you reached the property, you were dripping wet.

You entered the side door, and the frigid blast of air from the industrial-sized ac had you shivering within seconds. You strode down the hall looking for Victor. The building was empty for the most part except for construction equipment stored in various places throughout the building.  You were frozen by the time you found victor huddled over a stack of blueprints in a small corner office on the first floor. "I'm sorry, I'm late. I was walking, and the rain started." Victor held up his hand to silence me.

“Tell me, if you were me, how would you feel about people being late for a meeting? Would you feel as though they don’t appreciate the opportunity they were being given, or would you listen to sorry excuses and let yourself be run over by anyone?" He said stoically never looking up from the blueprints.  

Uh-oh, you think you may have just stepped onto a land mine. You thought about how you would navigate this without getting yourself in trouble but also not look like an idiot in front of Victor.

"Well, I..I suppose I would listen to what caused them to be late……if they have sufficient evidence to back up their claims," you said quietly while rubbing your hands up your arms for warmth.

At this proclamation, Victor looked up from the desk only to be shocked at what was in front of him. Not only was MC soaked from head to toe, but she was wearing what would have been a flowing white dress had it not be drenched and sticking to MC's body for dear life. Victor could see the outline of her rounded hips and taut thighs as she quickly crossed her arms over her chest to shield the noticeably hardened tips of her nipples from his perusal.

You stared at victor, defiantly waiting for him to tease you or to ask why you made such a poor decision to leave the house without an umbrella.  Instead, however, victor glanced away and mumbled inaudibly to himself.

“I’m sorry I missed that, what did you say?” you asked with a little more vitriol than you had initially intended.

“I said good thing the builders haven’t arrived yet.” He said with a teasing tilt to his bottom lip that you hadn't ever seen before. You dropped your head, embarrassed by the entire situation. Here you were looking like a soaked rag in front of your boss. Real professional, Ugh  

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do believe the evidence speaks for itself," Victor said while exhaling a sigh. You looked up at his face and noticed his eyes had become watchful and intense.

The sound of a door closing in the distance had you breaking eye contact and looking towards the open walkway with no way to close the office door as the door was removed in the renovation processes.  

You looked up at victor with pleading eyes “What do we do!?” you whispered harshly. The footsteps began moving closer and closer to your location has you beginning to panic. You could not let other people see you like this. It had been bad enough that victor had seen you, now you were going to be a show for the people who worked here too?

“Dummy,” Victor said, walking around his desk to stand in front of you. However,  instead of letting victor handle the embarrassing situation, you grasped his arm suddenly and pushed both of you into the coat closet, closing it swiftly but quietly behind you. “What are you doing?” Victor asked, amused by this comical situation he now found himself in. "Shhh, be quiet." You cautioned him sternly as you heard someone approach the office entrance way. The sound grew quiet as if someone had stopped at the office’s doorway, so you both waited silently.

You were becoming increasingly aware of how tiny this closet was. Every time you would move, you would brush Victor’s body in the process. However, there was one advantage to this closet thing. "You're so warm," you breathed out. You are sure you caught victor off guard when you laid your frozen cheek against his chest. You're not quite sure what you were thinking, but you were just so happy to have some feeling return to your face again.

Victor ran his hands up and down your arms attempting to generate heat. You heard a movement outside, and you both froze as you turned around to the door. Unconsciously, you took a step back, forcing your back against Victor’s seeking some form of shelter.

--------------------------Smut Below, you have been warned-------------------------

Unbeknownst to you, you were applying direct pressure to victor’s swelling erection. He had been trying hard to think of stock market recessions in an attempt to deflate his burgeoning erection, but since he had entered this damn closet, it had blossomed like a fire in his gut.  Her hips had nudged against his member a few times and now was exerting direct pressure with her luscious ass. It was only a matter of time before she realized something was there that shouldn’t be.  After all, his cock, once erect, was pretty unavoidable.  Blessing and a curse he supposed. The feeling of her soft butt cheek caressing the front of his pants was making him dizzy. Victor suddenly grabbed your hips in a firm attempt to stall your motions. This was not how he had pictured this day going, but damn if he didn't want to grind his erection into you without hesitation. Instead, he pushed you away, trying to regain some form of composure.

"I'm so sorry. I must've gotten you wet. Here let me just…" you stated earnestly while trying to wipe off what moisture you could from Victor's shirt.  As soon as you reach his abs, your hand froze on the outline of tight muscles bunched under his damp dress shirt. You quickly removed your hand while stating, "you know what I think I am making it worse. Sorry". Victor started at you with an incredulous expression, "You think?"

"Victor, can I ask you something?” You questioned, looking up at his face before quickly darting your eyes away.

"Depends on what it is… If it is something I feel like answering, then I will." He stated with a curious but guarded tone.

"Why do you put up with me? I feel like I am constantly making mistakes, and I always need you to rescue me. I can't help feeling like a burden to you," you inquired somewhat dreading his reply.  

“Dummy, don’t ask questions you should already know the answer to.” He replied, while averting his gaze. This woman was going to be the death of him. From saving him as a child to the intense feelings that developed for her over the past year, it’s a miracle MC hadn’t picked up on it. He needed to get out of this close proximity to her, or he would lose it soon.

“Here put this on,” victor said while placing his suit jacket around your shoulders. The smell of Victor engulfed you, and you felt reassured for some odd reason. He attempted to push past you, but you hastily grabbed for him and pulled him back, whispering, “No! What if the worker is still out there I don’t want anyone to see me like this or to know I was hiding in a closet with you!”

“Relax, I am just going to tell him to go look at something on another floor,” he said nonchalantly as he stepped close to the door and reached for the handle.

You’re not quite sure what came over you, but you pulled Victor back and forced him against the wall of the closet. “Just wait a minute! I don’t want them thinking something else!” you snapped as you warily eyed the door.

He should have known he wouldn’t be able to hold back forever

He wrapped one hand around your waist and gently cupped your face as you fiercely gazed up at him.

He couldn’t stop this and didn’t want to.

He brought his lips down to crash upon your with your gasp of surprise the only sound between you. He moved his lips, slowly savoring the feel of your lips upon his and your taste. God, he couldn’t get enough, but at the same time, he needed to make sure. He broke away from you as you stared at him with a stunned expression.

“I….why…..I wasn’t expecting that” you stammered. Your eyes met Victor’s as you attempted to get a handle on the situation that you now found yourself in. In his eyes, you could see the same surprise and thinly veiled yearning that you could also feel within yourself.  You felt dumbstruck. This man had just kissed you. “Why did you do that?” You asked in a hushed tone. You weren’t accusing or angry; you just didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Dashed hope could lead to a very long fall for you. Though you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping he would answer honestly without deflecting.

Victor took a shuddering breath before answering, “Dummy, do you truly not know how much I…….” he paused before hesitantly asking, “Do I not have a place in your heart as you do in mine?”

You remained quiet.

Instead of answering him, you reached up and pulled his face down to yours as you kissed his lips. You briefly pulled away and whispered at lips, “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” Victor groaned and spun you around to push your back against the wall. He kissed your lips and nibbled his way down the nape of your neck. You had forgotten where you were and what lead you here and could only focus on how tantalizing his lips felt sucking and biting your sensitive skin below your ear.

“Let me take you home he uttered hoarsely as the thoughts of what he wants to do to you surrounds and fogs his brain. You don’t think you can wait. This feels better than you could have ever imagined. “Fuck, jus…just kiss me,” you moan unwilling to stop as he dips his head back down to yours, enveloping your lips in his as he leans his body into yours. You bucked your hips up into his coming into contact with his clothed member. Dear lord.  He is so hard. You instantly feel a rush of arousal and simultaneously the need to jump out of your skin. He can’t touch you enough; his hands are like live wires to your soul, taking you higher and higher. You unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders as you feel him slip the straps of your dress down. He rapidly unfastens your bra and pulls it down your arms.    

“Fuck, how was I supposed to deny these?“ He asks hoarsely as he cups your breasts while rubbing the tips of your nipples with his thumb and forefinger. You moan as you pull his neck forward so you can suck and leave your own trail of love bites across his neck and chest. “Shit MC how do you do this to me?” He growls as he spins you around, pushing your front against the wall. He holds you in place with a tight grip on the place where your neck meets your shoulder as he fumbles to find your zipper in the dimmed light. Once he locates it, he unzips it slowly as his lips follow its path. He shimmy’s the dress from your hips and steps up to clutch you to him. He moves your hair off your neck and sucks lightly as his left-hand wraps around one of your breasts while the other trails down your belly. Once he reaches your panties, he grazes the lace with his fingers before skimming over them down to your thighs. He slowly drags his hand up your inner thigh as he feels you fidget in anticipation. He reaches down again and continues on the other thigh. You push your back into him and rub your ass into his large clothed cock in an effort to get some friction in the place you need it most. He brings his knee up in between your legs and grinds it against your pussy. “Fuck fuck fuck Victor” he hums as you gasp out his name. You struggle to reach behind you to rub his cock through his slacks only to have victor stop you.

“Ah ah, not yet MC, you aren’t quite where I want you just yet,” he said with a dark chuckle “soon though” You whine in frustration wanting nothing more than to feel his hard cock pressed against your skin with nothing in between.

“Now, if I were to touch your sweet c*nt, would you be wet for me? Victor asks demandingly as you throw your head back and you rub yourself down onto his knee. “Please Victor,” you beg, not sure where he is taking this as you grind almost mindless back onto him.

Victor swiftly removed his knee despite your whine of indignation and asked again, “hmm, is your sweet little pussy wet for me?

You turned your head to glare daggers at this man, but it didn’t appear he was going to budge as he just patiently waited for your response. “Yes, it is,” you mutter quietly, somewhat embarrassed.

“Mmmhh, just what I wanted to hear,” he ground his erection on your ass a minute before spreading your legs and pulling your ass back. “Keep your hands on the wall and be a good girl,” he whispered huskily as you felt him shift behind you.

Victor sat on the floor with his back against the wall as he lifted your leg and moved you over his face. His face was directly in front of your slit. Exactly where he wanted to be apparently. While wrapping his hands quickly around your thighs until his was confident, you wouldn’t move. He brought his hand up and rubbed your clit with his thumb in small little circles before dipping his finger back to your slit to feel how wet you were for him. You whimpered as you heard him groan at how wet you were for him.

He took his fingers away and to a long lick covering your slit. He sucked your clit into his mouth, sucking with a passion as you moaned and whimpered for him. “Oh shit victor oh my, fuck,” you spouted jumbled phrasings trying to express your fierce pleasure.

“You fucking taste so good, god, I’ve dreamed of this,” he mumbled against your folds. You glanced down at him and saw he had unbuttoned his pants and was stroking his cock as he licked you with greedy intent. The sight enraptured you, and you couldn’t look away. His hard and rigid length being stroke drove you even closer to the edge. He continued to lap at your folds, even going so far as to force his tongue right at the entrance to your hole. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down onto his face until you erupted in waves and gushed juices over him, screaming his name.  He continued licking your clit until you tried to push him away, shaking, about to collapse on the floor of the closet.

He lowered you down to his lap and nestled you close as you trembled with aftershocks. “Now we are going home,” he stated, chuckling to himself. “But you, you didn’t….” you drifted off embarrassed to finish the sentence. You looked down and saw his erection still standing at attention.

“I am not going to take you for the first time in a closet, dummy.” He said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

He stood up, and you moved to your knees. Victor reached out his hand to help you up off the floor, but you had another plan in mind.  You wrapped your hand around his shaft and stroked him gently as you moved closer to his cock and wrapped your lips around his head, swirled your tongued greedily around his tip. He groaned, caught off guard as you moved your lips up and down his dick. “Fuck MC….damn you feel so good,” he moaned as he grew closer and closer. His cock was leaking copious amounts of precum, alerting you to just how close he really was. You sucked hard on the shaft of his cock while pumping the base with your fist. “Shit Mc I’m about to…..fuck,” you felt his cock flex before his cum gushed into your mouth before swallowing it down. You smiled up at him innocently as he leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath.

He bent down to pick up your dress and help you stand. As you put your clothes back on, your predicament came back full force as you realized you just screamed out victor's name in this closet where you were supposed to be hiding from others. “oh shit, oh shit. Victor, we can never leave. I know they heard me.” You cried out panic enveloping you.

“Mc, how many times do I have to remind you I can freeze time? It’s been stopped since I kissed you.” He stated indignantly while shaking his head at you. “Your screams are just for me, got it? Now, let’s go home.”  

[flowerslightning]

(Part 2) Cloud Strife and his Mental Illness

a.k.a Psychiatric Disorder

| 1. Memory | ⇦ Click if u havent read it yet

2. Hallucinations, Illusions and Delusions

Since these three things relate well with Cloud's troubled memories, I'll be talking about them first before jumping to his Confused Personality

This post will bore u a bit or maybe a lot 😂 it depends. If ure interested with psychiatric stuff, u'll find this enjoyable as much as i do

Disclaimer : I'm 21 and still a tiny meany student. During my intern at Psychiatric Department, I learned and witnessed psychiatric problems from real life patients. And since Cloud (my fav FF character) has psychiatric issues, I'll be sharing some of my knowledge and interpretation of Cloud's character. Im not diagnosing him, rather i'm giving my own opinion about his status

@nibelheiim created a post about dissociation, she explained about hallucination, PTSD and more. Come and check her out! Her words were more direct and easier to understand. She explained about Psychological matter and she's a real psychology student too!

While my explanation will be more focusing on Psychiatric Topic and words used will be more complicated (with grammar errors). My facts will be based on ICD 10 and DSM-IV

A lot of people were confused with these three terms - Hallucination Illusion Delusion - These terms associated with abnormalities of perception. It is important to understand that this abnormality holds two keys; ● 1. Perception is the process of becoming aware of what is presented through the sense organs. ● 2. Imagery is an experience originating within the mind that usually lacks the sense of reality that is part of perception.

Abnormalities of perceptions have 4 theme, but I'll be focusing on two major types that relate with Cloud: (i) Hallucinations ; (ii) Illusions. Some cases, perception can be normal in intensity and quality but has a changed meaning for the person who experiences it - it is called as Delusional Perception. It is not an abnormal of perceptions, rather it is a disorder of a person's thinking.

Try guessing, how many from these terms does Cloud has?

1. Hallucinations

- A perception experienced in the absence of external stimulus to the corresponding sense organ. Eg - patient hears a voice when no one is speaking within a hearing distance or patient sees something approaching him when visually no one is there. There are 2 qualities to determine a hallucination: ●it is experienced as a true perception●it seems to come from outside of the head●

The above gif, where Sephiroth suddenly appear again before Cloud's eyes even able to touch Aerith's shoulder, it illustrate perfectly the 'Visual Hallucination'. No one can see Sephiroth, other than Cloud himself.

Cloud [Remake] kinda had anxiety when he stared at the fire and later he saw Sephiroth surrounded with flames, then poof, that silver guy disappeared along with the images of fire. He said he was hallucinating stuff after the first bombing mission. Idk how Sephiroth could create fake images of fire around him, either Cloud was really hallucinating or it was really Sephiroth that came to see him. But, this is what we call as 'Visual and Auditory Hallucinations'. Cloud SAW Sephiroth and HEARD him talking when no one else did. I can also add in 'Tactile Hallucination' because he probably felt the burning sensation on his skin from the flame around him that caused him to feel hot and sweating, or probably it was his anxiety that caused him sweating upon meeting Sephiroth with the flashback of his burning hometown

Hallucinations can occur in all sensory modalities; visual, olfactory, auditory etc. In the Remake, the Whispers could only be seen by certain people. To those who couldnt see it, they would be puzzled what was happening to u, and would've thought that u were hallucinating something, like in the case of Aerith.

In Cloud's case, perhaps Cloud [In OG] had auditory hallucination due to his severe case of Mako Addiction. But then, that wasnt exactly a hallucination though, cuz the thing he said "'Coming.. They're coming" was actually true. A monster fell from the sky.

Other 'hallucinations' that Cloud had was the images of Sephiroth that appeared in certain headache. Cloud may claimed it was his hallucinations, but i've read it somewhere that says it was really Sephiroth appeared before his eyes. Sephiroth was messing with Cloud's mind, trying to break his mental in order to control him. However, IF IT WASNT SEPHIROTH that came, Cloud's 'hallucination' would be known as a mental disorder that may lead to severe case - eg Schizophrenia.

2. Illusions

An illusion is a misperception of an external stimulus. It often occur in several circumstances: (i)level of sensory stimulation reduced (ii)attention is not focused on the sensory modality (iii)level of consciousness reduced (iv)being in a state of intense emotion- fear.

Does Cloud has it? Urm, maybe? Well, it can be proven when he saw his 'noisy neighbour next door' as Sephiroth. As stated above, illusions occur in 4 conditions, and Cloud was in number (i) and (iv). When Tifa yelled him to stop, Cloud came back to reality and got really confused when the 'Sephiroth' that attacked him was actually a sick guy. We can also add in 'Hallucinations of Deep sensation' in this scenario bcause Cloud experienced the feelings of being pushed down by 'Sephiroth'.

However, we all know that 'Sephiroth' was real at that moment. For Cloud, he thought it was an illusion, but for us the audience, it was a real thing.

If u want a better explanation and example, try watching Joker the movie. The main theme of the movie was 'mental illness'. There are lots of scenes that shows different type of hallucinations, illusions and also personality disorder.

3. Delusions

a.k.a fixed false belief. A belief that is held firmly despite evidence contrary. A delusion is nearly always a false belief but not always so. There are around 11 types of delusions according to the book. Half of it may suggest Shcizophrenia. Schizophrenia is certainly not in Cloud's case. I've studied one by one the type of delusions and none of them match with Cloud FF7.

I will surely give anyone a good punch in the face if they dare to say Cloud suffers from Schizophrenia. I've met with bunch of patients having it, and the way they see this world is totally different from us.

In some other cases, eg a spiritualist convince a person to believe in his spiritualism and he present with contrary evidence to the non-believer. This non-delusional belief is called 'overvalued ideas'

Overvalued ideas is an isolated , preoccupying and strongly held belief that dominates a person's life and may affect his action. One of the easiest example i can come up with; a friend who had skin cancer may be convinced to her roomate that cancer is contagious, and her roomate suspects any abnormal skin conditions she has is an evidence to show she too, may have developed the same cancer, when the truth is, she's just completely fine.

It is very hard to distinguish between a delusion and overvalued ideas.

I had a patient, he was diagnosed with Schizophrenia. He looked like an ordinary man, but when he talked, it sounded so unreal. He said he had jumped off from 10th floor several times and didnt get a scratch from it. He believed he wont die bcause he had gained super power. He even convinced me to try his 'so-called-secret technique- on how to survive a jump. By doing that often, I will have a superpower like him - a strong physical body. Up until now, I still dont know if he was being deluded with his thought or he was overvalued his idea, bcause from his psychiatric record, he did try to jump off from the second floor of his apartment's balcony a few times.

So, Im not really sure of myself did Cloud [FF7] really had delusion or not. Well, he believed he made it to SOLDIER bcause he had mako eyes. But was it something we called as delusion or was he just overvaluing his idea? He didnt know the truth and his memory messed up. No one could explain to him why he had Mako eyes, except Prof Hojo and Zack who knew the truth

Besides, after Tifa helped with his memory, Cloud accepted the fact he wasnt in SOLDIER. For patient who deluded with their own thoughts, they hardly could believe what people told him.

However, surely Cloud [in AC] had delusions of guilt and worthlessness due to the fact that he believed he had done something shameful and sinful - the main trigger of this theme was, he got infected with Geostigma while he was searching a cure for Denzel. Cloud got depressed with the loss of Aerith and the memory of Zack death had returned, but I think he was recovering very well in that two years time skip. The moment he got Geostigma, he became deluded he was worthless and his depression kicked in again.

Hallucinations and Illusions are normal to be experienced by healthy people, but it wont be if u encounter too many hallucinations & illusions in 2 weeks time. Believe it or not, a lot of people around us are actually mentally ill bcause some of them may have excessive certain delusions, such as delusions of jealousy, grandiose delusions, nihilistic, paranoid etc. Although 'it is consider as normal' in a few circumstance, a few cases need to refer to psychologist and in severer cases, must refer to psychiatrist. If u follow Dr Phil's show, u'll see a bunch of patients have different kind of crazy delusions.

Overall from my statement above, I would conclude that since Sephiroth always appear before Cloud's eyes, this resulting Cloud to think he has both Hallucination and Illusion, when in fact, he's just a normal guy with amnesia and personality confusion. Cloud doesnt have Delusion like how many fans said, neither he has an overvalued idea, even with the evidence of Mako eyes supporting his reasoning + he's a great fighter. I will have to say that perhaps it is his brain defence mechanism that tricks his mind to believe he is a Soldier.

If only Sephiroth stop disturbing Cloud's life, it will be a lot faster to fix Cloud. Tifa alone will be the main strength to get Cloud back to normal. Ah, but this is the beauty of the game. Life wont be exciting without the presence of a beautiful villain and a love triangle (Tifa-Cloud-Sephiroth). Lol Technically I see them trying to fight for Cloud's mental health. Tifa wants to help Cloud with his mental status while Sephiroth is trying to destroy it. Lolololol

My crack theory : Sephiroth says he's going to take Cloud's most precious thing, and he ends up choosing to kill Aerith, but ofc there's another reason why Aerith got killed. But if Sephiroth kills Tifa first, I think he can take over Cloud's mind faster, because then, no one will be holding Cloud back. Honestly no one can ever will, not even Aerith. So does that mean Sephiroth doesnt know about Cloud's deepest secret or is Cloud just good at hiding his weakness?

I WILL UPDATE THE NEXT POST LATER because I've reached tumblr limit images agaiiin. The next part will be focusing about his personality - Personality Disorder

If there is any part that I've mistaken, pls correct me. I'm sorry for my english. English is not my native language, so there are plenty of grammar errors.

[b0ttl3d-up-st4rs]

Well I'm gonna do what I do best and self reflect to an insane amount. This is probably gonna be a long post so buckle up.

To be honest my behavior for nearly the past year now is concerning to say the least. There's this little voice in my head that just desperately wants to get more and more hurt, more and more traumatized. Why is that? At first glance the negative approach could be to say its some sort of masochistic behavior and any negative repercussions as a result of this behavior is deserved, but I don't really think thats the case.

Self sabotage is a characteristic that can be exhibited in many mentally ill people and I am no exception. I think this behavior, of seeking to be hurt by grown men on the internet is partially self sabotage.

And I remember when I first started this shit show, I just wanted attention. Sounds mean to say, but craving attention is something the human soul desperately wants. And I was starting to feel some sense of self beauty but I didn't feel as though anyone around me was appreciating it so I tried to get attention from grown men because being showered in compliments and attention felt so good when my whole life I've never gotten any of that.

I think there's more too it, though. Looking back my whole life it's almost as if I've wanted to get hurt. In books I liked to sit around with the pain the characters felt. And its almost like I wanted to get traumatized. I've heard that people with trauma that they don't acknowledge is trauma or think its bad enough to be traumatizing seek put worse forms of trauma, in order to feel that pain is valid. And I think that's part of my issue too.

I do have unaddressed and repressed childhood trauma. I was given unrestricted internet at a young age and was exposed to the horrors of the internet. Nothing like straight up porn, but a lot of suggestive content. And in general being exposed to that caused me a lot of catholic guilt as I was raised catholic. I remember feeling like knowing these things were my fault. Many days I felt so guilty that I would pray to god to let me not wake up in the morning.

As a child I also questioned my religion a lot, which i think was traumatic in itself. Religion is a big thing. And as a kid I had a big issue knowing reality from fiction. Heck I still do. I remember as a kid my friend telling me that we were all demigods and one day we were going to run away to camp half blood. That the percy jackson books were real. It sounds stupid now, but I processed that as real and it was so stressful for me.

And I remember being 12 coming out as trans and as a part of the lgbtq community to my parents. They didnt react well. They said I was confused. My mom said I was both too young and too old to know. I fought a lot with my mom. And in general have a lot of unhappy memories from then. I was outed multiple times in my life.

My relationship with my parents still isnt good. My mom has a tendency to be toxic. I hate that I have to stay in the closet around my family its so painful. Like a month ago I mentioned the lgbtq community for the first time in years, asking my mom her opinions on it and if it changed since 2017, and it turned into her yelling at me and making herself a victim. It really hurt. I forgot how much it hurt.

I don't really have much of a relationship with my dad. We barely talk. Hes very emotionally distant. When I'm at my dad's house I sort of fend for myself. Its the exact opposite at my moms house. She's overbearing and never leaves you alone. It's like going between to extremes.

And honestly I can't wait to move out. My mom and I have arguments a lot. But hey at least I have some relationship with her, I don't really have a relationship with my dad.

I remember one time this year, I was during the end of a school semester. I needed to catch up on work because after talking to my abuser for like 5 months and then unlocking him I was left in shambles and fell into a really bad depression to where my motivation for school just disapeared. Im still dealing with that tbh. Anyways I had to go to a online meeting to choose my classes and I didn't get to choose the classes I thought I would be able to, and that made me really upset. But after the meeting I had to go to do am act of kindness (I chose picking up litter at a graveyard cause i like graveyards) for my school project but I was still distraught. If I was given some time to myself I probably wouldve been able to go without issue, but my mom wanted to go immediately. We argued. And when I got there I refused to leave the car because I felt so much like shit. We argued more. It was the worst argument I ever had. She even swore at me. Which she's never done before. And she ended up playing victim again. She does that a lot I guess. And doesn't really listen to my feelings. Whenever I try to communicate about my feelings with her it turns into an argument and she makes it about herself. So yeah our relationship isn't the greatest. And I think having mommy and daddy issues is a trauma in itself. Ppl deserve to have happy healthy supportive families.

Oh right and another trauma I completely forgot (funny how that happens) is when I was 14 and admitted to a mental hospital because I tried to off myself. It was so surreal and they forced me to learn how to make eye contact with people cause apparently thats "how they know im doing ok". Which is kinda fucked considering the fact I recently realized I might be autistic. And eye contact is literally so painful for me. It especially was back then. Anyways the place itself wasnt too bad but the feeling of being trapped overall sucks and being disconnected from the rest of the world isnt fun either. Also I dissociate all the time but I especially dissociated hard thru the whole experience. And sort of made myself into the perfect patient, repeating all their bs and literally lying to myself to convince myself that I was ok so they would let me go. So that was kind of weird.

Anyways I know I have it better than others. And honestly sometimes it's hard to tell what exactly was traumatic in my childhood. I probably forgot and repressed other parts of it too and am forgetting things. But needless to say these unaddressed traumas didn't help my mental state. And i do think that's a big part of the voice in my head begging me to just get hurt more.

Overall my mental state is fucked, It's been really hard for me not to be taken advantage of by another internet pedo. Heck the only reason that isn't happening rn is because no ones dmed me yet. Also I unblocked my old abuser and we are talking again now so thats fun. It definitely doesnt help the cognitive dissonance in my brain of him being actually a nice and supportive dude. I think thats also a part of me wanting to get more traumatized. Since my abuser is a nice person that should counteract all the fucked up sexual things he said to me in the past right? I mean others have it worse, had worse abusers that were actively cruel. That's part of the bitch in my subconscious brain talking. It sucks tbh.

Anyways yeah I probably need therapy but I don't feel comfortable talking about this to my current counselor and honestly its really hard to say out loud. I can talk forever about it by writing it down but the moment I speak words from my dumbass mouth I break down in tears and can't do it. Plus idk, I'm scared if I say anything she'll have to tell my parents and that my phone might be taken away or I'll have less privacy and for a closeted queer where my only current life line is the internet and my online friends: that is a terrifying idea. Idk. I'm fucked basically.