#feeling deeply exhausted welp

[clawsdevour]

hop off for me

wc: 0.6k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, kenma x reader, slight smut, fingering, not proofread

ꪆৎ ˚⋅.

Rubbing your legs in bed under your warm sheets, scrolling on Tik Tok waiting for your boyfriend to put his eyes on you. Your boyfriend, Kenma Kozume also known as the famous streamer Kodzuken, was currently on one of his live streams playing some game he found interesting. Looking at the time at the top corner of your phone, it was just about time he started wrapping it up. 

However, you're needy and can’t bear waiting for him any longer as you kick the blanket off your legs, feeling the cool air brush against them. With your blanket off and one hand free, you try your best to take off your shorts and panties and throwing them on the floor. Your intimate area was exposed looking straight at him, but all he was doing was clicking his mouse and staring at the illuminating screen with his noise cancelling headphones on. 

Thinking to yourself because he’s already occupied, I’ll do it myself then.. You throw your phone off to the side as your hand reaches under your shirt and the other lowers down onto your bare pussy while you slowly spread your legs further out. You’re swirling around your clit with your two fingers, feeling the wetness spread all over. You’re out there facing Kenma’s side as you put on a free show trying to grab his attention as you whimper out his name. He’s still unable to hear you with his headphones on, listening to whatever sound effects his game makes him listen to.

You’re laying down on your back, legs wide open with your fingers in you. Gradually you’re thrusting them in at a pace that felt good as you teased and played with your perky nipple with your other hand. Your patience grows weary and thin, When is he gonna finish his stream to play with me instead? Was all you could concentrate on as you continued to pump in your two overworked digits. Started to feel exhausted, you pulled out your fingers and played with your clit instead for more stimulation. Kenma’s reading his viewer’s comments out loud, getting to hear his calm voice as you sped up your rubbing pace.

“One more game? Chat.. that’s overtime.” Kenma’s in his own little world until you poked his leg with your foot, trying to not get in frame. At first he ignored it, thinking you accidentally hit him. But you kept going at him, he’s continuously feels your prodding, to which he tilts his head to the side to see what you wanted. And oh, did he know now. His mouth is shaped into an Oh as he quickly whips his head back at his webcam.

“I’ll think that’ll be it for today’s stream, okay chat? Welp, Kodzuken out.” Kenma exclaims as he reaches to close his camera before ending his stream. His comments were going nuts the moments before his stream turned off trying to understand why he won’t follow with the usual ‘overtime’ streams he’s been doing lately. 

He’s hastily taking off his headphones and placing them onto his desk before swiveling his gaming chair to face you. He’s staring down at your bare cunt and fingers that lay on your soaked clit while you’re deeply breathing to recover back your regular pace.

“You couldn’t wait could you?” Kenma’s leaning in, putting his long slender fingers into you at a rough and quick pace causing you to let out a small yelp of pleasure ready for his next moves.

masterlist here

[yoonavii]

Never popped a request to anyone via tumblr before but ahhh I loved your most recent Sanji fic so much. You're so talented ❤️

If you ever feel inspired, what about something where Sanji joins the crew, and sees how close reader and Zoro are (whether or not Zoro actually does have feelings for reader, idk!), and he gets jealous, until some event or fight and the reader shows how she cares for him and it all comes out in the open

(love me a bit of angst!)

Thank you!!🥺 and Welp, I’m inspired!! I tried my best with this one cause I’ve been a little dusty with angst lately so I apologize in advance. Hope you still enjoy it though!

Jealous

OPLA! Sanji x Reader

After the tumultuous events at the Baratie, Sanji officially joined the Straw Hat Pirates as their skilled cook. Initially, he was thrilled to be part of the crew, living his dream of sailing the Grand Line with an extraordinary group of individuals. However, as the days turned into weeks, he couldn’t help but notice something that gnawed at his heart – your growing closeness to Zoro.

On the surface, it was an inseparable bond formed through countless adventures, battles, and shared moments. You and Zoro seemed like kindred spirits, and it was clear to everyone that you had each other’s backs. They trained together, sparred together, and sometimes, they even spent hours talking about their dreams late into the night.

For Sanji, it was painful to watch. He had harbored deep feelings for you but never found the courage to express them. Instead, he masked his emotions with jealousy, believing that you and Zoro shared a connection that he could never hope to replicate.

As the crew continued their journey, heading toward the tumultuous waters of the conomi islands to save Nami, the tension between Sanji and Zoro escalated. Their arguments, once subtle jabs, had evolved into full-blown conflicts, often ending in physical confrontations. The crew couldn’t ignore the rift growing between them, and their division was affecting their performance in battles.

One day, as the crew faced off against the Fish-Men on the foreboding Arlong Park, the simmering animosity between Sanji and Zoro reached its boiling point. The battlefield became a stage for their pent-up anger to explode. Swords clashed against kicks, and fists met with blades in a cacophony of violence. You, exhausted from fighting alongside your bickering crewmates, couldn’t take it any longer. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you stepped boldly between Sanji and Zoro, ignoring the danger of the ongoing battle. “Enough!” you roared, your voice cutting through the chaos. “We can’t afford to be divided like this, especially in a battle like this one!”

Sanji and Zoro froze, their faces flushed with anger, but they both turned their attention to you. Your presence had an immediate calming effect. You took a deep breath, then continued, “Sanji, Zoro, we’re a crew. We’re a family. And I can’t stand to see you two at odds like this.” Sanji’s expression softened as he listened intently to your words. You took a step closer to him, your voice quivering slightly with vulnerability. “Sanji, you should know that I care about you deeply. It’s not just about Zoro and me. I want us all to be close and support each other. If it’s causing you pain, then let’s find a way to work through it.”

Sanji’s heart raced as he absorbed your confession. He never expected to hear those words from you. Slowly, he nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I… I feel the same way y/n. I was just being stupidly jealous.” You reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, your touch gentle and reassuring. “Let’s put this behind us, Sanji. We can be together as a crew, as friends, and as something more, if you want.”

With the tension diffused, Sanji and Zoro exchanged a begrudging nod of understanding. The three of you returned to the battle, but this time, there was a newfound unity among the Straw Hat Pirates. While they hadn’t completely resolved their differences, they had taken the first steps toward mutual respect, recognizing that they each had their unique strengths and weaknesses. The bonds of the crew were stronger than ever, and as you fought side by side, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that you had mended a broken heart and solidified the crew’s unbreakable spirit.

As the sun set on Arlong Park, a feeling of hope and reconciliation washed over the crew. Sanji and Zoro had begun to understand that their differences could be complementary rather than divisive, and with your support, they would continue to grow and adapt as a unified crew. The journey continued, marked by a deeper sense of camaraderie, love, and acceptance, proving that even in the face of jealousy and conflict, the bonds of friendship could prevail and grow stronger.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Curtis And Honey Autumn This Or That 🍂

Week Five: Baking Cookies or Eating Pie

Summary- Short Drabble. Curtis x Plus!Sized Reader. Curtis finds you baking in the kitchen and you manage to lift his spirits.

Warnings- Implied Smut.

This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Ahhh thank you! You all are the best and thank you for all your support with this little series. Don't forget to vote on Friday for the next activity shared. Happy Reading!

Curtis and Honey This or That Masterlist

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

“Welp till next year.” Curtis gave a sigh, one filled with yearning for next spring when he could roll his Camaro out of the garage into the gleaming sunshine. But now that fall was here and winter wouldn’t be far behind, already the cold was blistering as the winds coming off the lake chased away any illusion of summer, it was time to put her to bed. 

And it was one of the reasons he didn’t look forward to the end of autumn. As much as you loved the cool weather, he much preferred warm summer where the Camaro got to run the roads, bonfires and beer were a nightly thing and his Honey was wearing all the very tempting sundresses. 

You made him appreciate fall a little more, although he probably never really love it because of the cold.

Now that the Camaro was put away safely, he worked on picking up his garage, making sure that his tools were placed back and any of the excess oil and gas he had used was prepared to be properly disposed of. With a wipe of his hands on his rag, he started to go inside. 

Opening the door was a blast of sweet heat, the aroma reminiscent of when his gram was alive. He inhaled deeply as he was sure to close the door behind him, his stomach rolling with desire at what he was smelling. 

You stood at the nearby kitchen countertop, swaying in place while you were sifting flour into a large bowl. Ingredients for your favorite cookies were scattered across the counter in a bit of chaos that you made sense of. “It smells like heaven in here.” Curtis muttered to you while you tossed a grin at him, grabbing at your spoon to give a mix. “What is in the oven?” 

“Your favorite Curtis.”

“The chocolate chunk with flaky sea salt?” He asked rather hopeful.  

You pinched some dough from the nearby chocolate chunk cookie bowl, holding it up for Curtis to taste. He did, enthusiastically, nibbling on your fingertips and sucking all remnants of sugar from them. “You can be my taste tester.” You offered. “But they gotta come out of the oven first.” 

“I'm willing to wait.” Curtis informed you while making his way to the sink to scrub his hands clean from before, then as you continued mixing your cookie dough, he did up the few dishes you used so they were clean for your next use. 

“What are you baking all these for though?” He asked while you popped your batch out of the oven. 

“Bake sale, we’re trying to raise some money for the drama club since their isn’t really any extra this year.” Your tone tinged on frustrated, Curtis knowing fully how strained you were feeling with the school this year. “You finish putting away the Camaro?” 

Swiftly changing the subject, Curtis suspected it was because you were just exhausted about it at this point, he let it slide for your sake. He nodded as he eased into a nearby bar stool opposite of where you were baking. Still nearby, but out of your way. “She is all in bed and waiting for next summer. I was dreading it…” 

“But?” you broke a chocolate chunk cookie in half after it came out of the oven, letting the steam escape to cool off. You leaned across the counter to reach Curtis, offering if to him. 

Taking his first bite, he chewed slowly, savoring it. It was so reminiscent of his childhood that it made him feel so happy right in that moment. “But I come inside to this and suddenly life is fucking good and sweet, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He said with sincerity that made you beam happily at him. 

“The garage is heated, right?” You questioned while eating the other half of the cookie, Curtis reaching over to steal another, the gooey chocolate to much of a temptation for him to resist. 

“Yeah, I mean not like the house but I keep it warm. Alot of our water pipes go through the garage and when they freeze its always a bitch to thaw back out.” He stated, more focused on his cookie at the second then what you were starting to hint at. 

“Well…” You lean against the counter, wiggling your brows suggestively at him. “The Camaro might now be driveable but we can still make use of her then.” 

He swallowed suddenly, the suggestive interest flaring in his gaze and now baking cookies was no longer on your agenda. “Pretty Girl, I fucking love the way you think.” He snapped up to a stand, making you giggle as you wriggled out of your apron. “You need to do anymore?” 

“That last batch is due to come out right now.” You tossed your apron on the counter and he tilted his head to the garage. 

“Get your sweet ass in the backseat Pretty Girl, I will be right in.” He grabbed at the pot holders to hurry up and get the sugar cookies out so he could follow after you.

[shootingcookielover]

Villain!Donald Au! (Part 2)

Welp, I guess this is a thing now. Link to Part 1, though I will say I'm still not promising to keep this up yall. Maybe that way i wont succumb to pressure and never upload anything again abt this? We'll see lmao

"C'mon, uncle Donald! You'll be late if you wait any longer!", Huey exclaimed, the breakfast he'd prepared forgotten next to the stove.

"Uh, well, I don't know...", the adult duck stared at the screen of his phone, indecisive.

"And it'll only be a couple hours!", Louie added, doing his best to mimic Huey's responsible aura. "We can handle ourselves for that long, promise! We won't cause any trouble!"

Donald bit the bottom of his beak, eyes moving to see that the boys had put their lifevests on. He was running late, and they usually were mature enough not to get too badly into trouble...

"...Fine.", he finally relented, still feeling dread like a rock in his stomach at the prospect of leaving them unattended. He couldn't begrudge Pepper that she hadn't shown up today, of course, she was quite sick, after all. "But remember to keep on your life vests and don't turn on the stove and keep your fingers off the engine, and--"

"We got it!", Louie interrupted, giving his uncle an easy smile. "You can just go on, do your boring dayjob and we'll be perfectly safe, right here."

The adult sighed, but nodded. "Right. Okay. I will see you in the evening, boys."

He had just barely turned to march over to his car when the houseboat's engine let out an undignified sputtering noise.

Instantly, he whipped around again, narrowing his eyes as he realized that somebody was missing from the ensemble.

"Where's Dewey?"

------

"Destination: McDuck Manor.", the monotone voice of the GPS announced.

"McDuck... Manor?", Huey repeated, voice uncertain.

"You mean the McDuck that defeated the giant rock monster?", Dewey added.

"The super rich McDuck that you hate?", Louie threw his own thoughts into the conversation.

Donald sighed, a deeply exhausted sound. "...he owes me.", he admitted, then, before gritting his teeth and setting his face into an angry expression. "Enough that his housekeeper will play babysitter, at the very least."

The triplets exchanged disbelieving looks.

'Scrooge McDuck?!', Huey mouthed.

'Maybe he'll sell us.', Louie replied back, just as silent.

----

"Wow, uncle Donald did not exaggerate. Uncle Scrooge really does suck.", Louie commented, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie as he eyed the room the triplets had unceremoniously been shoved into.

With a bag of marbels.

"I don't know, I mean, he is family, apparently... Maybe there's something we don't know?", Huey replied, voice uncertain.

"Well, something I do know is how we're gonna get out of this room!", Dewey exclaimed, swinging the bag of marbels as though he had a brilliant plan.

Really, Louie wasn't quite sure why he'd gotten his hopes up; Dewey's plans were never as brilliant as he claimed them to be. And it was once again proven to be so, as the blue-clad triplet began smacking the doorknob with the bag.

Louie rolled his eyes and sat back, losing hope that they would ever get out of this boring as hell room. But his gaze snagged on Huey, who sat cross-legged just a couple steps away.

His expression was twisted up, a mix of confusion and frustration.

"...Huey?", Louie asked, reaching out a hand to touch his brother's shoulder.

The eldest triplet jerked at the sound of his voice. "Huh-?! Oh, uh, Louie! I'm okay!", the statement was followed by a less-than convincing smile.

Louie only raised one brow.

The red triplet sighed. He reached up to his hat, pulling out the ever-familiar Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. Louie responded with a mental sigh.

"It's just... In the guidebook it says, well, family is the greatest treasure of all, y'know? And, if Scrooge is so bad, I don't know... Does that make us bad, too?", Huey's eyes were huge and wet and urgh, Louie was not good at the emotional, mushy stuff.

Usually Huey was the one who handled it.

But now Huey needed guidance! So Louie slapped on a comforting smile. "What? 'Course not! He's just our uncle. Not like he raised us or anything. You know badness isn't hereditary, I've seen the books you read."

"You've read my books?"

"I looked up a summary for one of them for my book report last year."

Huey levelled him with a deadpan expression but Louie just shrugged. "Look, point is, he's done bad stuff and he might be a sucky person... But we're all our own people, right? We just have to choose to be better."

This time, a small smile crept onto Huey's beak as he put his Guidebook away again. "Yeah. Just... Choose to be better!"

Just in that moment, the doorknob broke off with loud crack and the jubilant cheering of one Dewey Duck. "See, I told you I had a genius plan! Now let's go touch some expensive stuff!"

Louie and Huey jumped to their feet, though before they could enthusiastically agree to that plan, a rope of some kind snapped out of the darkness of the hallway. It ensnared Dewey's middle and pulled him away, leaving only his scream in it's wake.

"Wh- what---!", Louie managed, before the rope came back.

It twisted around the remaining triplets' middles and pulled them out into the darkness, accompanied only by their own screams.

"I'm sorry!", Louie yelled as they finally came to a halt, hanging upside-down and illuminated only by a single beam of light. "We'll put the marbles back! We'll never touch anything ever again! Don't hurt us, please!"

But whoever had captured them, obscured in the darkness of the rest of the room, only scoffed. "Who sent you?!", the unfamiliar voice demanded, "Ma Beagle?! Glomgold?!"

Finding himself face-to-face with their unknown assailant, Louie cried out "Uncle Scrooge!", in a last effort to thwart whatever was going on.

Luckily for him, those were exactly the right words.

The stranger in the shadows gasped. "Uncle Scrooge?", she repeated, before clapping her heands to activate the rest of the room's lights. "The nephews!"

The light revealed a girl about the triplets' age with a pink bowtie in her hair and a throwing knife in her hand. The throwing knife didn't bode well, and all the triplets screamed in terror as the girl threw it.

However, it only cut the rope, freeing the brothers from their confinement.

"Hi! I'm Webby!", the girl exclaimed, extending one hand to the downed triplets.

Dewey, already on his feet again, shook her hand. "I'm Dewey!"

"Oh, uh, I'm Huey."

"Louie.", the youngest triplet rubbed his head, as he stared at the girl - Webby. "So, uh, do you just always tie up anyone who comes into the manor, or...?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry about that!", she laughed sheepishly, twisting her foot against the floor, self-conscious. "Usually when people enter the manor without my knowledge they're Mr. McDuck's arch enemies and we have to fight them off!"

"His arch-- How many enemies does he have?!", Huey exclaimed, alarmed.

"Oh, a bunch!", Webby replied, pulling a polaroid camera from... Somewhere. "Say cheese!"

The flash went off and the triplets found themselves temporarily blinded. "What was that for?!", Dewey yelled, rubbing at his eyes.

"It's for my McDuck board!", Webby explained. Her voice was soon followed by a zipping sound and when the brothers had blinked the stars out of their vision, they found... Well, a McDuck board.

"Woah.", Huey muttered, eyes glued to the intricate detail the board went into. His own organizer's heart sang with the beauty of it. There were different colored strings for different relationships!

"Wait, you said he had a bunch of enemies, but there's only one enemy line.", Dewey pointed out, eyebrow raised as he pointed at said line. It was dark blue and lead to somewhere off the board.

Webby, who had just finished putting up the triplets' picture, looked over, confused. "Huh? Oh, no, I didn't have enough space for all of them, so I made a seperate, less detailed board!"

With that she walked over and pulled on the line. A screen descended, this one similarly covered in photographs connected by colorful string. But the pictures were also accompanied by what appeared to be, each individual villain's most aggrevous crime.

Louie tilted his head in confusion at the profile of a guy called 'Glomgold'. The text next to his photo just said 'Too scottish?' which wasn't exactly promising.

He crossed his arms.

"Yeah, a guy with this many enemies cannot possibly be a good person.", Dewey asserted, "I mean, 'magically created shadow nemesis'? That doesn't even sound like a real thing! I'll bet it's made up to make himself sound cooler than he is."

"WHAT.", Webby exclaimed in response, expression aghast.

"He's not wrong.", Huey agreed, staring at one that simply read 'He knows what he did.'. The sentence was written next to a blurry picture of a mall santa.

"WHAT.", Webby repeated, before shaking her head. "No! No, Scrooge McDuck is the coolest-slash-bestest adventurer in the world! All these people are evil, or, or, bad, or something! But he's Scrooge McDuck! He's not a bad person, he's like... The best person!"

"Look, Webby, was it?", Louie interjected, moving his gaze to meet the girl's. "You grew up here, yeah? So, maybe, you're a little biased. I mean, you're... Wait. Who even are you?"

"I'm the housekeeper's granddaughter."

"Right, yeah, that. Obviously your grandma didn't wanna talk bad about her employer in her employer's house. She'd probably get fired if she did."

Webby looked conflicted. "What, but, no... I mean, she does talk bad about him though!", at the looks she received from the boys at this, she was quick to add, "Not like that! Just... Housekeeper stuff?"

"That's okay, Webby, you were lied to. But we can help you!", Dewey interjected, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

But the girl wasn't convinced. Her face settled into a determined expression. "No! Your uncle is the best and I'll prove it to you!"

She shook off Dewey's hand and promptly kicked the grate off a vent set low in the wall. "Follow me! To the wing of secrets!"

------

Defeating three different mystical threats in one go was, admittedly, kind of impressive. Even to the triplets who'd heard nothing but bad things about their uncle all their lives.

They came out cheering, only for Scrooge to silence them, by smacking his cane into the ground.

He was glaring at them. Their cheer immediately died. Well, except for Webby.

"What are you all doing out of your rooms?!", Scrooge demanded.

"What, you mean the only room in this manor that wouldn't pass a health and safety inspection?", Louie replied, expression deadpan.

"Wha- it's not that bad! I gave ya marbles and everything!"

"I counted over half a dozen exposed nails while we were in there.", Huey added, one eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

"Yeah.", Dewey spoke up, too, expression twisted into a scowl. "I guess family is nothing but trouble."

That, apparently, had been the exact wrong thing to say. Because Scrooge's frown deepened further as the tell-tale signs of an angry tantrum shook his body. "To your rooms.", he bit out. "Now!"

To everyody's misfortune, that last statement was underlined by a rather deafening hit against the magical gong Scrooge was stood next to. This simple fact had the kids gasping, reaching for their beaks with wide, terrified eyes.

"Oh, relax, the curse is only actovated if you hit the gong three times and, uh, you already hit it two times, didn't you?"

---

"In the short time I've known you, you've realeased several ancient evils, broke every rule I gave you and nearly cost me my money bin! You kids are nothing but trouble!"

To everyone's surprise, the elder duck broke out into laughter a few moments later. He walked over, slumping down on the log that already seated the children. He reached out, pulling them into a side hug with a content sigh.

"Curse me kilts have I missed trouble."

"Sooo... You're not gonna feed us to a giant scary ocean monster?", Louie felt the need to clarify.

The billionaire pulled up a brow. "What? Why would I do that? No, no, we're going on an adventure together.", he pulled out his phone.

Louie exchanged a look with Huey.

"Yes!", Dewey exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "So we can all get eaten by a scary sea monster!"

Scrooge laughed, "Not quite, lad. I'll keep ya safe, you donnae have to worry about it.", he ran a hand through Dewey's hair before finally hitting the call button.

"Mrs. Beakley? Clear my schedule! I'm taking the wee ones on a field trip!", he declared, before instantly hanging up again. He looked over at Dewey and Webby who were returning his gaze with that spark of excitement that Scrooge had so dearly missed in the past ten years of his life. "We're going to the list city of Atlantis!"

Louie chuckled. "Wow, yeah, no wonder Uncle Donald hates you.", he remarked, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "You're way too into dangerous expeditions and stuff."

The sentence hung in the air unanswered for a moment, before Scrooge let out an awkward laugh. "Ha ha, yes... That is why Donald doesn't like me."

Meanwhile, somewhere far but not as far as one would think, Donald sneezed.

And at the same time, much farther away, up in space, doing her best to defend her spaceship against a Moon Mite, Della Duck gave a quite similar sneeze.

"Aw!", she exclaimed, just barely dodging the Moon Mite's attack. "They're thinking about me!"

-+--++---

Yeah i know this one is kinda following canon a lil close but. I promise if i write the next part, it'll be a lot more canon divergent. I just kinda wanted to lay some groundwork here first lol

This au needs a better name than just "Villain!Donald au" if this is gonna be a thing,,,, if u have suggestions, i'd love to hear 'em. I'm bad at naming things

[peskellence]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 3.8K

Approaching CyberLife Headquarters, Gavin felt his stomach twist unpleasantly. He stared out the window and tried to distract himself with a game he used to play with his dad. On long car trips, he would be tasked to count all of the trees outside as they quickly whizzed by. There were a lot fewer trees in Detroit compared to when he was young, making the task much easier. 

"Shall we run through our story again?" A calm voice asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Nines sat rigidly beside him, dressed in a grey pinstripe suit. The clothes had been meticulously pressed and tailored, and its hair expertly styled to cover his LED. The android had shifted the colour to a golden blonde, in stark contrast to its usual brown.

Gavin rubbed the corners of his eyes, removing any traces of sleep, "I've got it." It was hardly a convincing response, as his words were garbled by an ill-suppressed yawn. 

The man's lack of enthusiasm had not escaped Nines' attention, as it spent most of their journey scrutinising his bedraggled appearance. In opposition to its own polished stylings, Gavin's attire consisted of a worn pair of jeans and a stained off-white shirt. 

 "Are you sure?" Nines questioned, stiff posture becoming even more rigid, "I am happy for us to practice again, should you wish." 

Gavin said nothing to his companion, but let out another yawn, leaning his cheek against the window. They had done plenty of practice, the android having insisted on an impromptu rehearsal the evening before. It had taken them through a myriad of scenarios, preparing for all conceivable outcomes. 

"Stimulants such as coffee can only mask the symptoms of physical and mental exhaustion" The judgemental droning cut through Gavin like a buzzing insect. One that he would have liked nothing more than to swat away "Perhaps we should attempt this operation another time. When you have had sufficient sleep."

"Oh fuck off, Nines. It's your damn fault that I didn't get enough sleep."  

This wasn't entirely true, of course. While their rehearsal had meant Gavin had gotten home late, it had little to do with the delay he experienced in going to bed.  

The wheels of the car stilled, and the safety locks were deactivated, leaving the doors free to open. "Welp, we're here", he plainly announced, reaching out for the handle, when a sudden grip on his forearm halted his movements.

"Detective Reed", Nines said, its hold firm and eyes sharp with intense focus. "You are experiencing psychological distress. This may impede the success of our current operation. If there is anything I can do to ease your concerns, I wish to help." 

"I'm not distressed or concerned, just tired", Gavin insisted, gritting his teeth in frustration. 

This was also untrue. Awake until the early morning hours, he had been given plenty of time to sow doubts over their current operation. It was risky, and he had to stay focused at a time when this seemed impossible. Despite his lengthy behavioural record, Gavin valued his job deeply. Single, broke, and in his mid-thirties, he had very little else going for him. Well, that and his - 

No, he stopped himself, pausing to catch his breath. Harsh words echoed in his ear. Something that his stepfather had told him shortly after his dad's funeral: 

You aren't a girl, and nobody wants to hear you whine like one.  

"Let go of my arm before I melt you into Tupperware." 

Nines stared at the man sternly, the strength of its grip only increasing, "I had thought our relationship had progressed past the point of petty threats." 

"Oh, come on. It's not a threat. I'm joking with you" With a sharp tug, he tried to pull away, but the android refused to budge. "Now, would you -" 

Man up, or shut up, before I give you something to cry about. 

"I'm fine, okay? Nothing to worry about."

"It is trivial to lie under these circumstances. I am perfectly aware of how you feel." 

"Then get out of my head! I already told you I don't need you to fucking psychoanalyse me."

"Is it wrong that I should care for the well-being of my partner?"

Gavin cackled, rolling his eyes at the misguided attempt at sincerity. "Get a fucking grip. Just because I'm starting to tolerate you, it doesn't make us buddies." 

Nines' grip slackened, although not enough for Gavin to escape. Its expression turned cold and distant, its tone equally devoid of emotion. "Nonetheless, I would hope that we can discuss this later." 

"If I say yes, will you stop trying to rip my arm out of its socket?" 

"I should think so." 

"Then yes" He threw up his available arm in exasperation. "We can talk later." 

Whether or not the android believed him, the statement appeared sufficient to warrant its submission. A strange look of intent lingered in its eyes like it wanted to say something else, but ultimately it decided against it. The grip on Gavin's arm loosened and released, with Nines turning itself away. 

It straightened its tie and prepared itself to exit the car. "I trust you not to let your personal matters inhibit our performance today…Gregory."

While its face was turned, Gavin could hear the smirk tugging at its lips. It was clear Nines was taking pleasure in their current rule-breaking, and while still holding reservations, Gavin couldn't help but be charmed by the reckless sense of abandon. With a smile, he responded in kind to the playful address, "Not happening, Rich. I've got this." 

Upon entering the Headquarters, it became painfully obvious just how far the company had fallen from grace. Having visited on more occasions than he would have liked, Gavin recalled bustling waiting areas filled with investors and other affluent figures. Service androids would make the rounds, offering drinks as the chattering masses gathered around the wall-mounted screens. Gawking at the polished highlight reels of CyberLife's latest and most impressive innovations. All that remained of any of this were empty seats and blacked-out displays. 

"Detective", Nines spoke softly into his ear. It gestured its head towards the desk and to an incredibly bored-looking Receptionist. She was mindlessly scrolling through her phone, making no attempt to appear to be working. 

"This is good", the android assured, "She seems unlikely to offer resistance. We should be able to secure the information we need with relative ease." 

Gavin shoved his hands into his pockets before taking a deep breath and striding forward. "Come on then, Robocop. Here goes nothing."

"Good morning, madam," Nines chimed as they reached the desk. He smoothed out a curl of his coiffed hair and flashed the young woman a charming smile. "My name is Richard Stern, and this is my partner, Gregory Kane. We wondered if we could have a moment of your time." 

The receptionist, who had been smirking quietly at something on her screen, lost any semblance of positivity she may have possessed. Her face dropped into a scowl, vacant brown eyes peering up at them with brimming disdain. 

"If you want to talk to someone, there's no one here," she said, voice monotonous and dull. "You'll need to make an appointment with one of my bosses. Requests are taken online."

"I don't think that will be necessary", Nines said, smoothly leaning forward. "I am sure that a bright girl like you is more than capable of assisting us."

She stared at him blankly before returning her attention to her phone. With her free hand, she gestured vaguely towards her monitor. "We don't do sales. If you want to talk to someone, you can email us. If anyone's interested, they'll reply - but probably not." 

Realising that the 'pretty boy' charm was failing to win any favours, Gavin decided it was time for a more focused attack. He studied their target closely, trying to catch glimpses of what she was looking at. There were several airbrushed photos of women holding up beauty products and dietary supplements. She was liking them all methodically, flitting between this and her own profile, which boasted similar promotions.

Her username and bio were displayed proudly at the top:

@hannahxxbeauty.19

DM for collabs 💅

"While we're here, Hannah", Gavin began, folding his arms ", we're doing some research for our next social media campaign. Mind if we ask you a question?" 

The girl appeared caught off-guard as she stopped scrolling almost immediately. She seemed interested. At the very least, enough to spare a further glance from her phone. "Depends on what you want to ask." 

"There's been a lot of buzz lately about androids in the workforce." He tried to keep Hannah engaged as much as possible, pulling out his phone and flashing some opinion polls, "Specifically domestic jobs like cleaners and nannies. A lot of agencies still hire mostly androids, but there's also a lot of pushback saying that this is a 'problematic' bias. What do you think?" 

Hannah scowled, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Domestic androids were slaves until a few months ago. They were made to scrub toilets and look after people's kids - they didn't get a choice. People still want them to do it because they think they'll put up with more shit. So yeah, I'd say it's problematic." 

Gavin hummed, tucking his phone away before motioning towards Nines. "That's where we come in."

Following the cue, his partner nodded, reaching into its own pocket and pulling out an authentic-looking business card. The name on the front read 'Conquest Ltd', with their aliases printed neatly at the bottom. 

"We are in the process of establishing a new company that specialises in domestic AI", Nines explained, setting the card on the counter for Hannah to look at. "The model is similar to Kamski's design, although with significant changes. Our assistants would be capable of completing both simple and complex domestic tasks but with a significantly reduced range of cognition. A more ethical android, as it were." 

Hannah glanced at the card briefly before snorting and pushing it away. "It's still the same kind of exploitation. You're wasting your time - AI is dead."  

"If you don't mind me asking, does your smartphone come with a built-in assistant?"

"Well, uh", she stammered at the question, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. "Yeah. O-Of course, but that's -"

"As part of our research, we have consulted extensively with Android Rights Organisations, as well as the Department for Android Services", Nines continued, its voice smooth with reassurance. "I can assure you that no code of ethics will be breached in our proposed design."  

"Huh...Have you made any prototypes?" 

"We would require a small team of engineers with which to get started. Ideally, those with a background in advanced cybernetics." 

"And where are you going to find them?"

Nines smiled broadly at this, ready to close in for the kill. "As I said before, a bright girl like you, I'm sure you would be able to help." 

Hannah seemed to take a minute to process this, chewing on her thumbnail. She sat in silence until her large eyes slowly began to narrow. Looking back up at Gavin and Nines, it was evident that the air around them had shifted. 

"You know, this has been bugging me since you got here", she began, seemingly more focused on Gavin. "You seem like a really weird match for' business partners'. Like, I wouldn't put you together. At all. How exactly did you meet?" 

Oh fuck. How did we meet?  Did we even talk about that?

College? Yeah, I think that was it. He majored in Economics, and I majored in Marketing. We roomed together for three years.

Gavin felt a sudden, unexpected weight snake around his waist. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, he was drawn towards his companion until seldom an inch of space separated them.

"Truthfully, our partnership extends beyond a business arrangement -

We are together. Romantically." 

"Oh," the girl said in surprise, eyes sparkling with intrigue. 

Nines' spontaneous attempt at ad-libbing left Gavin more than a little bit shaken. Making things worse was the subtle warmth he could feel accosting his cheek. Synthetic breathing. An impressive detail, no doubt adding to the credibility of the machine's human persona, but one that was causing its captive intense mortification. 

There was a moment when he could feel lips grazing the stubble of his cheek. He was terrified that it might kiss him, knowing there wasn't a chance in Hell he would be able to save face if it did. 

"Well," Hannah smirked, leaning forward in her chair. While Gavin couldn't see under the desk, he was confident her legs were kicking away. "You two make a cute couple, but there's nothing I can do to help. Sorry." 

Nines withdrew its lips to a safe distance, much to his companion's relief. "We understand that we are asking a lot, and we wouldn't want to get you in trouble. Have you worked with CyberLife for long?" 

"I interned straight out of High School, been here ever since."

"I trust you've gotten to know everyone quite well?" 

"Well yeah, I see them every day" She took a breath before letting out a forlorn sigh. "All the good ones are gone now - they were made redundant a few months back. The only people left are the bitches in admin and the bigwigs upstairs." 

"It sounds like you hold your old colleagues in rather high regard", Nines said, voice laced with faux sympathy, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could give them a chance to start again?"

"...I don't get what you mean." 

"I think you do", Nines placed its fingers on the abandoned business card, sliding it steadily closer to her.

Hannah looked down at her lap. Her brow knitted as she nervously chewed her lip. She was beginning to crack, and Gavin was confident that Nines would be willing to give her the final push they needed. "You really think your idea can work? No joke. You're serious about this?" 

"Perhaps it can, perhaps not - but I'm sure your friends would appreciate the opportunity regardless. They have already lost it all. What is there left to lose?"

The receptionist stayed still for a minute, weighing up her options, before jolting to life with a quiet hiss. She busied herself on her computer, refusing to say a word. After a series of frantic clicks, the printer on the far side of the workspace roared to life. She propelled herself towards it on her wheeled office chair, swiftly snatching the document and handing it over. 

"This is a list of engineers terminated in the last few months. It has their names and contact numbers. If they want to know how you got their details, they didn't come from me."

"You have our word", Nines agreed, winking to the woman as he took the sheet. "Thank you for your assistance today. Should we require a Personal Assistant in the future, we would be delighted to take you on board."

By the time they had exited the building, the sun had brightened significantly, making way for early morning. Gavin checked his watch and saw that it had just turned 7 o'clock - enough time to get some rest before his shift started.  

"Well, I would say that was a success. Beautifully executed, Detective Reed."

"You didn't make it easy", he complained, shielding his eyes from the rising light. "What with that improv shit you pulled." 

"I am afraid I don't know what you are referring to."

"Yes, you do. Why the hell did you tell that girl we were together?"

Nines seemed unsure how to answer this. It tilted its head to one side, staring out into the distance. "She was growing suspicious of our intentions, and I wished to distract her."

"Yeah, but why risk it all on something I wasn't prepared for?" Gavin pressed, "I'm not like you. I'm not always going to know how to react. We could have been friends, brothers, or anything else."

"None of which she would have found as compelling." 

Gavin shook his head, too tired to comprehend the warped sense of logic. "You know what? Doesn't matter. At least we got what we came for." He went to open the door of the car, but a hand shot out to stop him. Nines slid into position between the detective and the vehicle, creating a barrier. 

"What now?" He whined, reaching around his partner and pulling at the handle. "We've got work in three hours, Nines. I want to go home and sleep." 

"You assured me that we would discuss what was bothering you" The android pushed back against the door, forcing it to remain closed. "I'm afraid that I must hold you to your word." 

"It really doesn't matter, okay? It's stupid. I'm just…" Gavin stopped resisting, allowing his arms to fall limply to his sides. "...I'm worried about my fucking cat. There. Are you happy?" 

"Tiffany?" Nines' LED flickered yellow, then briefly to red." For what reason are you concerned? Is she unwell?" 

"I don't know. I spoke to the vet, and they seem to think everything is fine, but she's been acting really weird. She won't get out of the damn bath anymore, even when she's hungry. I have to carry her to the kitchen, or she won't eat. Apparently, it's to do with nesting, which means she'll probably have the kittens soon. I'm just scared she'll go into labour when I'm at work or asleep. If something shitty happens to her, I won't be able to forgive myself." 

Nines, who had been listening intently, nodded in understanding. "Both stray and domestic cats frequently give birth without assistance. Complications are rare, so I am sure she would manage independently." 

"You don't have pets; you don't understand" Gavin rubbed his temple, grunting in frustration. "I just need a break. One night to myself when I don't have to worry about the damn cat."

"Have you spoken with Officer Chen? I am sure she would be happy to help. The two of you seem rather close."

"She's allergic to cats, and Tiff fucking hates her. So no, that's out of the question."

There was a break in the conversation, as Nines appeared to have let its guard down. Seizing the opportunity, Gavin tried to enter the car again but was quickly thwarted. 

"I would be able to assist you." 

Gavin stared back blankly, wondering if he'd misheard, "You're kidding."

"Unlike you, I do not require rest. I would happily watch Tiffany overnight so you can secure a good night's sleep," It spoke with an air of calm reasoning. "With any luck, this would also help to bolster your work performance."

"Wow, how thoughtful. Guess you really do care, huh?" 

Nines took pause at the sarcastic remark, saying nothing. Its temple was illuminated yellow as its facial muscles twitched. It moved slowly from Gavin's path, allowing him to reach the door. 

"Appreciate it, but no thanks. I'm a big boy, and I don't need a robo-nanny to tuck me in at night." 

Upon arriving home, Gavin promptly collapsed onto his sofa. Having been suitably drained by their early morning excursions, he fell asleep almost immediately, only to be awoken by the fierce vibrations of his phone ringing in his pocket. Grunting, he assumed it must be Nines. Calling to inform him he'd overslept and was now expected at the station. Sluggishly pulling the device to his ear, he pushed 'Accept Call':

"Yeah, dipshit. I'll be there soon. Don't get your wires in a bunch." 

"Gavin", A haughty voice greeted, "I hadn't expected you to answer. How considerate." 

The detective felt his heart drop. He pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the caller ID in grim disbelief. Of all the times for him to call, why would he choose now?

"What the fuck do you want," he asked despairingly. 

"Charming - We haven't spoken in years, and that's the first thing you have to say? You wound me, little brother."  

He prayed that he might still be dreaming. Caught in the grips of some twisted nightmare - but he unfortunately knew better. Seemingly random as the timing appeared, Elijah had never been renowned for his predictability. Known by most of the world as an 'eccentric genius', Gavin often wondered if he was the only person to see his brother for what he was: A pompous, self-entitled lunatic.

"You've got about 30 seconds until I hang up, so you better make them count." 

"Very well", Elijah said breezily, unfazed by the hostile reception. "My reason for calling was to enquire why you might be sniffing around at CyberLife Headquarters." 

 "How did you –" Gavin shot up from the sofa, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Relax, there is no need for concern. One of the receptionists merely mentioned that some men, one bearing a striking resemblance to me, had paid her a visit today." 

"Why were you there? You don't even work for CyberLife anymore." 

"Maybe so, but I still pay them a visit from time to time" His sibling let out a quiet sigh as if reminiscing better days. "The old girl has grown tired without me. Perhaps I ought to return." 

"I'm sure they'd love that. Some ponytailed prick prancing around, telling them how to do their jobs -" 

"Back to the point", Elijah interrupted. "I assume your visit today has something to do with the recent android murders?"

Gavin twitched in annoyance, trying to level his breathing. "Police business. Meaning 'Private and Confidential', dickhead." 

"So that'll be a yes." A clink of glass could be heard in the background, followed by a simpering female voice. Apparently, at least one of his brother's Chloes had stuck by him after the revolution. For what reason, he did not know. "I must admit, I have been following the stories, and the killer is truly an intriguing character. He is no doubt one of ours. His craft has a level of precision that you would not see anywhere else."

With annoyance escalating to fury, Gavin's thumb hovered over the 'End Call' button. "I don't need your fucking reassurance. I know how to do my job." 

"Before you go, there is one more thing…

The RK900."

He stalled, thumb stuck in place. "What did you say?" 

"Your partner. I don't think it wise for an android of his model to be working on your current case." 

"What's its model got to do with anything?" Gavin demanded, leaning forward in his seat, "And tell me straight, Eli. None of your riddles." 

"Should you dance too close to the fire", Elijah trilled cryptically "it will be the android who ends up burned."

Oh, you insufferable prick. He went to hang up the call - but realised that his brother had already done so.

[invisiblegarters]

The End of the World With You Ep 6

Note: TW for discussion of suicide below. 

Ha, I knew that Meguru was just aching to get Ritsu alone. I had a feeling that it was something to do with his sister, too. Were they lovers, I wonder?

Ha literally no one believes that Ritsu didn’t have something to do with the sister’s death. I would feel bad about this but this is also the dude who tried to have his cake and eat it too with Masumi (although again, I maintain the only thing he did wrong there was not being up front about what he was looking for - he knew Masumi wouldn’t go for it and he selfishly wanted to keep him for whatever reason, and that’s wrong. The end). More importantly, this is also the dude who let a literal teenager take a death pill because he was curious to see if it would work. So honestly the fact that everyone believes he’d be callous enough to just ignore a woman who was struggling with depression and have that result in her death doesn’t surprise me. I don’t really think it’s fair - none of them yet knows what exactly happened at the moment - but it’s understandable. Ritsu’s not a good guy. He’s spent his whole life living selfishly so there’s no reason anyone would expect this to be different. 

Man I am glad that my teenage years are behind me. Feeling everything that deeply is exhausting. 

Masumi is such an older brother, I swear.

Welp, that will certainly put a damper on travel plans. They will definitely need gas now if they plan to keep Masumi with them after that tumble - I don’t think he’s gonna be walking. 

I like how panicked Ritsu sounds. Maybe there’s a real boy in there after all. 

And yep, Masumi has a busted leg. Called it. 

See this is the thing that always makes me shudder when it comes to apocalyptic stories (aside from losing the Internet, aaaaah). Doctors and hospitals are now a relic of the past, right? Someone hurts themselves and they can’t just pop round to the nearest A&E and get it looked at/taken care of. It reminds me a bit of The Stand, where one of the characters gets appendicitis and there’s literally nothing that they can do for him, and they have to resort to letting a man whose only experience with putting things together is formerly working in a calculator factory do surgery. Imagine getting a stupid scrape that then gets infected and there’s no way to take care of it. *shudders again*

So even though Masumi is making light of it, Ritsu’s reaction makes a whole hell of a lot of sense (although maybe our resident maybe magic boy will prove Masumi right and take care of it). And by the way kudos to the actor, because not only does he look terrified out of his mind, he sounds it. Love the little shake in his voice. 

Fine time to have a crisis about your own shitty personality, Ritsu. Although I geuss if you can’t reevaluate your life choices at the end of the world, when can you?

To be fair, I don’t actually entirely believe that it was the end of the world that kickstarted this particular crisis. I had the impression that Ritsu had the suicide pills before the world got ready to end, and if that’s actually the case, well. That says something. I still don't’ think I like him, but I definitely find him more interesting now. 

Aw that kiss was soft and sweet. There really is no point holding grudges at the end of the world, is there? I do like that Masumi decided to leverage Ritsu’s clear guilt and worry over him to get him to tell Meguru what happened with his sister. 

Oh. Oh that poor girl. I like that they have the same actor playing both Madoka and Meguru. I wonder how much of the guilt Ritsu feels is due to Madoka’s story with her ex paralleling what happened with Masumi. A lot of it probably also has to do with him not being there for her, which...hm. I don’t necessarily agree with, I think. I get the need to blame himself because there will always be that what if hanging over his head - if he had just been a little less preoccupied with himself, could he have stopped her, etc - but at the end of the day no one can be responsible for someone else’s mental health. Ritsu is not a great guy by any stretch, but I don’t know if I’d add this particular thing to his list of sins. 

And yep, called it. Ritsu very much wants to die, and clearly has for a while. 

Oh, and that whole story just set Yuma right off didn’t it. “Go away, you damn meteor!” 

I guess if he is a magic boy they’ll find out in four days. 

I have to say, I really appreciate that this drama isn’t shying away from tackling the hard stuff. I don’t know if that’s what I expected when I first started watching - oh, I expected some existential questions because most end of the world fiction gets there eventually, but the rest of it? I just don’t know. I feel like this drama took a hard left when Ritsu asked Masumi to help him dispose of a corpse and it hasn’t really stopped since. Now that Utsukare S2 is over it might be my favorite thing currently airing (although Jack o’ Frost is bringing in a close second. Damn, Japan). 

[matthewko28]

Palju õnne sünnipäevaks.

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[meowzfordayz]

love language(s) — himejima gyomei

Author’s Note: my thumbs are not green. 🥀 Gyomei would be disappointed in me... can’t keep a plant to save my life. Actually: if my life were on the line, then prob would survive — my competency isn’t that horrid. Other than that drastic scenario, however... rip any plant placed under my care. 😵 

love language(s) — himejima gyomei

Himejima Gyomei x Reader

Word Count: ~1,800

CW: mild sexual content

Request Fulfilled: hello hello! may i request some gyomei hcs :> like,, what would be his love language/s [giving and receiving] hehe thank you!!

~faqs~

Giving

Hold up

Physical touch

Quality time

Gift giving

Verbal affirmation

What’s the fifth love language again ?? Trying to recall from memory…

AHA!

Acts of service (should be “5.” but tumblr formatting’s picky af)

So I must confess that I haven’t read any KNY manga 😬

Which means my perception of Gyomei is from the miniscule amount of screentime he got in s2 plus any fanfics about him that I’ve read

That being said, I feel like Gyomei gravitates toward giving Quality Time and Verbal Affirmation

Altho the softie in me *technically* imagines all the Hashira as cuddle bugs (albeit some more highkey than others) I am not touch starved tyvm Okay maybe just a little 😕

Gyomei just strikes me as particularly simple

Not like, simple in the noggin 😶

Just

Simply spending time together

And constantly announcing how splendid you are

He’s not into flashy gimmicks *cough* Tengen *cough*

I see him as someone who deeply values his alone time

Mind you, being alone on missions is different from having undisturbed time to oneself, ya feel?

Not to mention: it’s gotta be, to some degree, mentally exhausting to be moved to tears all the time — even when the tears are happy ones

So like, this man needs loads of time to decompress

And prob seeks out lower stim environments when socializing 

At the very least, he’s gotta suffer from dry eyes

Have you ever cried so much that your eyes hurt?

Now imagining crying a lot

I presume eye drops exist in Demon Slayer?

If Shinobu can regrow Zenitsu’s limbs, then eye drops must be canon 😤 

Welp, Gyomei definitely has a vial of dry-eyes-be-gone on him 24/7

I’m getting sidetracked

Himejima Gyomei’s the guy who’d rather read a book in bed with a mug of herbal tea vs go out with the other Hashira for drinks 

And by other Hashira I’m thinking mostly Kyojuro, Sanemi, and Tengen (Mitsuri only goes when Shinobu does, and vice versa)

Initially, you’d be hesitant to encroach on his alone time

He’d never exactly uninvite you, but he didn’t necessarily invite you either

Until one day when you semi jokingly remark while returning from a joint mission, “Gyomei-san, are we even romantically involved? We hardly do anything together. Unless you count fighting demons?”

And suddenly, he’s inviting you to practically everything he used to do alone

Book in bed with a mug of herbal tea? He wants you there ✅ Begins stock piling your favorites

Morning meditation? Invitation sent ✅ Whether or not you wake up in time to join him is entirely up to you 😴

Watering his plants? ✅ Begs you to come along, which, you almost regret bc he has sooo many plants and it’s stiflingly humid in his greenhouse yes this man has a private greenhouse, author makes the rules and he takes foreeevvverrr to water them bc, “They each need 30 seconds of water, 3 times. Okay, [y/n]-san?” buuut he’s a cutie 🌻 so mostly you just feel honored that he trusts you to care for his plants

As much as he enjoys being deployed on missions with you, he does not consider fighting demons to be quality time 🙄

You lowkey wrecked him asking if y’all were “even romantically involved” bc ?? 😭 He adores you ?? 💖 Cherishes you ?? 💗 Loves you ?? 💝

You’d literally sent him in a tizzy

“What if [y/n]-san breaks up with me?” Oh wait 😐 They don’t even know whether we’re together

Dw, he wasn’t frustrated by you

Mostly just distraught at his own lack of recognition that you needed ✨attention✨

P.S. The morning after your fateful remark, you’d awoken to a letter slipped under your front doorstep inviting you most affectionately and hopefully to join Gyomei for an evening stroll 💌

Srsly tho

He has the time to water a bajillion plants on the daily

—Logistical plothole here what with frequently being away on missions: I’m aware 🙃

—But that’s what hiring gardeners is for 🤗

But the most important plant was wilting before his very own eyes and he didn’t fricking notice ?!?!

You’re his prettiest-flower-that-isn’t-a-flower

Ofc, he doesn’t douse you with water

He douses you with thoughtful compliments

Exhibit A: “The color of your haori truly highlights the gentleness of your eyes.”

Exhibit B: “Your fingers are so elegant plucking the dead leaves from my hostas. Thank you for pruning them with me.”

Exhibit C: “Your laughter is a butterfly’s wing against my cheek — so light and tender, and capable of granting me endless joy.”

He douses you with encouragement and pride

Exhibit A: “Thank you for cooking dinner [y/n]-san. You’re doing a wonderful job! I’m sure you won’t overcook the rice this time.” And if you do, then he’ll try his best to only cry a little, just for you

Exhibit B: “I’m so impressed you beheaded that demon before me, [y/n]-san! May I watch you train sometime? It’s been a while since we sparred, and I believe I could learn a thing or two from you.”

—He really didn’t let you have it

—No, really 😌

—It was all you baybee 🥳

—Okay so he might have accidentally absolutely unintentionally moved a tad slower than you so you could reach it first

Exhibit C: “I know it hurts, [y/n]-san, but I know you can handle it.” this will remain appropriate, unfortunately “A wayward sprain could never restrain your resilience and spirit.”

—He still cries as you hobble around adorably, then cries bc he just wants you to okay, and cries some more bc he gets to scoop you into his arms and tuck you into his bed — the injured must rest!

And most annoyingly significantly, he douses you in nonstop-when will it stop-plsmakeitstop-he really doesn’t have to continue feeling so guilty about it reassurance of your romantic involvation I don’t think “involvation” is a real word oops

Exhibit A; Random Day | Random Location | Random Time: “Do you know who my romantic partner is, [y/n]-san?” he smiles widely. You sigh. “You are, [y/n]-san! You are my romantic partner.”

Exhibit B; Random Day | Gyomei’s Greenhouse | Early Afternoon: “Do you know what romantic partners do, [y/n]-san?” he leans down and pecks the top of your head cheerfully. You groan. “They nurture nature together! And [y/n]-san — we nurture nature together!”

Exhibit C; Random Day | Gyomei’s Bed | Nightfall: “Do you know what the worst part about having a romantic partner is, [y/n]-san?” he murmurs softly, bookmarking his page as he angles his body to face yours. You lay your book aside as well, quietly placing your hands over his. “It’s knowing there could never be enough clothes, rope, string, anything, to escape the depth of your devotion to them,” he pauses, struggling to collect himself, “But that is also the best part. You are my partner, [y/n]-san, and I am devoted to you.”

—

Ahhhhh

Gyomei, devoted, to you

His time spent, on you

His words spoken, to you

What a gem 💎🥺

Receiving

Time to give myself emotional whiplash transitioning from that bucket of fluff to another bucket of fluff

—

Imo, the language that screams GIMME the most for Gyomei

… as in, he’s screaming “GIMME” 😂

Is Physical Touch

Except he’s actually suuuper bashful about it

And never screams for it

—That’s his job

—To make you scream for it 😳

—That was an attempt at what I’d hoped would be a hilarious innuendo

—Guess not ☹️

It took you a while to figure him out

He doesn’t exactly shy from your touch

More like melts into it ☺️

But the only physical touch he’s naturally comfortable asking for is… 🥁🥁🥁

Holding hands 🤝

Beyond holding hands, Gyomei relies on you to lead the way

Creating a sort of catch 22, because you try your best to be cognizant and respectful of his upbringing

Which, his upbringing ≠ Physical Touch

Usually, you initiate touch in bed

Not like that

Yeesh

I already told you this will remain appropriate, unfortunately 👀

You initiate touch in bed, away from curious eyes, immersed in the soothing glow of cerulean and lavender lanterns — hand painted by you and Gyomei

Toasty, sweet aromas of sobacha and kuromamecha tea cling to his olive green kakebuton, a gift from you to him  “just because”

As the moon peers above the horizon, you’re tentative, knee leaning lightly into his thigh, your arm barely skimming his, the turning of pages floating pleasantly between you

Sitting in his bed, beside him, because he wants you there, is achingly meaningful

You move like honey as the moon ascends, a brush of your elbow against his ribcage here, a tap of your fingertip on his hip there

Not teasing, not seducing — easing him into your closeness

The pressure of your knee leaning on his thigh increases and increases, until he gently murmurs, “I’d feel very happy if our legs were fully touching.”

When the moon reaches and rests at its highest point, you press your mouth delicately to his shoulder

Gyomei’s focus wavers, book falling from his grip to his lap, a low, contented moan vibrating in his throat

“Another. Please. [y/n]-san. Touch…”

“Touch, Gyomei-san?” you smile tenderly

“Mm…” he doesn’t elaborate

Doesn’t have to

You have him figured out

“How does this feel?” your fingernails scratch faintly along his jawline Mm

“And this?” you playfully flick his ear Mm

“You’re warm, Gyomei-san,” your body adjusts itself Mm

Taut as you stretch to kiss the corner of his eye

Familiar as you exhale slowly, breath leaving a quiet trail of goosebumps from his cheek to his neck to the edge of his collarbone; your fingers wrap reassuringly around the strength of his wrist, lifting his palm to your nose; you nuzzle cutely, nipping at his callouses; then, you grip his hand with both of yours, his fingers straightening as you peep at him through them

“May I?” you whisper

Mm

You release his hand, sleepily settling further into bed, rolling onto your side

So casually, so safely, you tuck yourself into his sitting form, hugging his nearest forearm to your chest as you pull your knees up

—This is how you fall asleep, clinging to Gyomei

His heart hums, a constant, mellow bliss

As he picks up his book, and continues to read

…

Before you even ask-

Yes, he fumbles his book every so often

It’s hard to read with just one hand holding (the book) AND turning (the pages)

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I have a cute ask for the main 10. The skeleton brothers watched TV together and one of them fell asleep hugging the second one. How do they react?

Undertale Sans - He lets go a small "Aaaaw" and hugs him back. He then slowly throws his slippers away and lie down on the couch, his little brother still against him, he grabs a blanket with his blue magic and covers Papyrus. And then he falls asleep, so happy right now.

Undertale Papyrus - A classic. Papyrus slowly unhooks his brother from him, then gets up and carries him upstairs. He then tucks him in his bed and closes the door to let him have his rest, whispering a little "good night brother".

Underswap Sans - Honey is clingy as heck and he is an heavy sleeper. Blue wants to leave to go sleep in his bed. But Blue can't leave, because his brother is choking him to death and won't wake up, instead blocking his arms so he stops moving and bothering him in his sleep. Blue is growling like a wild animal, but eventually gives up because that's a game he can't win. He could yeet his brother with his magic, but his brother is having too much issues to sleep, he can't do that. He sighs and accepts his fate.

Underswap Papyrus - Who is he to reject a cuddle session with his brother? For once he is not hyperactive, so he takes advantage of the situation and hugs his brother. Honey never says no to a hug, brother concious or not.

Underfell Sans - He's TERRIFIED. If Edge wakes up, he will get so pissed off because Red had seen him so weak. If he doesn't wake him up, Edge will be pissed off anyway for letting him be weak instead of doing something. And that's not even the worst. Doomfanger is biting and clawing his feet, and he can't scream, because if he screams, Edge will wake up and scream at him for screaming at his damn cat. Red is dying inside.

Underfell Papyrus - Affection? EEEEEW! He uses blue magic on his brother and yeets him through the room. Gross.

Horrortale Sans - Welp. He purrs and holds his brother close, and tries to lock him inside his hoodie despite Willow being obviously way too tall and big for this. Oak gives up and gives his brother gentle head butts instead, rubbing his skull against his brother one. Willow wakes up eventually, because, you know, Oak is doing tractor noises.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's sad he can't carry his brother in bed like before. So he just enjoys the time in the couch for once instead and hugs his big brother close. Oak starts to purr, and Willow cries because that means his brother feels safe.

Swapfell Sans - He pokes Rus cheeks a few times to make sure he is deeply asleep, then he looks right, he looks left, and then he hugs his brother close for a few seconds, with a small soft smile on the face. Then he leaves the couch, put a blanket over his brother and goes work in his office.

Swapfell Papyrus - He keeps his brother close, he doesn't mind. If Nox falls asleep on him, it's probably because Toriel made him exhausted with too many meetings and he's too angry against her to care about Nox weirdly hugging him. He's in protective mode right now.

Fellswap Gold Sans - It's pretty usual. Coffee sleeps near him when he's too anxious because Wine makes him feel safe. Wine is gently petting his back and Coffee is smiling in his sleep, which makes Wine happy. He's happy his brother is happy.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - That's so weird, he's a bit scared. Wine never lower his guard. Never ever. Which means he's probably ill right now. Coffee tries not to freak out and carries him to bed so he can rest better. Coffee lies down next to him and hugs him close.

[zevlors-tail]

I don't wanna scared you or something even worse *breathe deeply and with the voice whispering* What do you think having a Incubus!Villain Deku?

Do you know I wrote all of this on mobile? In my car? On a 15% battery? Welp-

TW: Incubus!Izuku, Demon!Izuku, unprotected sex, mind fuckery?, tail play?, idk what to tag this lmao, biting, oral (reader receiving), fem!reader.

It starts with dreams. Bits and pieces here and there, fragments of memories that plague you randomly throughout the day. You're doing something completely mundane and suddenly there's a flash of something you can't quite recall...mostly in shades of green and black. It only takes a few times to fully realize what your dreams are about and remember them, though, and that's when the real problem starts.

That's when you become acutely aware of the incubus that's been taking up residence in your home (and subsequently, your mind) lately. He tells you his name; Izuku, was it? But please, call him Deku, as that's his preferred demon name and the name you should use to call upon him. He corners you the first time he becomes visible, makes you feel small and submissive, but in a lighthearted way so that you think you're still in control of the situation.

You're not.

He's so much larger than you; he towers over you easily as he traces an index finger over your bare arm and gives you a look of amusement. "Did those dreams feel nice?" But he doesn't need you to answer, because he already knows they did from the way you cried out and made a mess of yourself for him in your sleep. Many a nights you had woken yourself up mid-orgasm before having to strip your sheets from your sweat-soaked bed to wash them.

You can't put your finger on it, but there's something about his velvety tone and his darkened eyes that make him so persuasive while he offers to give you something even better, something physical that you can feel even when you're awake.

"I won't hurt you," he promises, and you can't help but believe him. It's easy to lean into his touch, to let him tilt your chin up, to meet his gaze and hold it while he silently asks permission.

You make the mistake of giving it to him.

Slowly he leans in, lips parted just as yours are, but he doesn't close the distance right away. He teases, smirks down at you from above and watches as your pupils slowly dilate with lust. You don't feel the prick on your back from his tail, never notice that something other than your own blood is now pumping through your veins. And while he can't play with you until he's earned a proper invitation, he can...help speed up the process.

If you had any doubts before, the aphrodisiac coursing it's way through your bloodstream is quickly changing that. You're overtaken by need like you've never felt before, and suddenly it's not a matter worth discussing anymore; you need to have him right now. You reach for him, pull him close as you meet his lips with yours, eagerly reveling in his immediate touches and caresses that he seems to offer so freely. He smiles into the kiss deviously, knowing what's just been done is essentially all he needs to corrupt you, to make you his, to use you as he pleases.

And he does.

He wastes no time in ridding clothes, his tail crawling up one of your legs and winding round and round until it reaches cloth and pulls. In one smooth effort your pants have been ripped to shreds, and now you're stuck in place; you're not going anywhere as he curls his tail around your midriff and pulls you to the floor. He makes quick work of his own clothes and your top, and then he moves on to the main attraction of tonight: you.

As he pins you to the ground and holds you there, you finally get a proper look at him, and boy is he a sight to see. Two small horns protruding from his head, his green mop of hair a wild curly mess, and canines so sharp that you're willing to bet he could eat you with those. And god, do you want him to. Your eyes trail down to his exposed chest, and you can see that he's clearly sculpted by whatever deities may exist. His muscles ripple under his skin, abs solid but still soft to the touch when you bring a hand up to feel. Below that, there's a very pronounced V-line, and a happy trail of forest green to match his messy mop up top.

Who knew demons could have happy trails?

You go to take your hand away, unsure if it's alright to touch him so freely. But he stops you, takes your hand in his and presses it back to his warm chest, slides it up to his collarbone before bringing it back down to rest over the part of him you'd been avoiding looking at up until now.

"It's quite alright if you touch me," he tells you, and again you find yourself entranced by his words. "I'd prefer it if you did, actually. Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to be in control? You humans are so interesting," he purrs. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. But do say it out loud, otherwise it won't be any fun!"

There's a pause in which he presses your hand lower, and your eyes widen nearly twice as wide as you feel him pulsing in your hand. Already leaking and throbbing and still somewhat soft, he's easily much thicker than anyone you've ever had. Your breath hitches as he helps you to give him a few pumps, and you're practically shaking in apprehension to be filled up.

"Or, perhaps..." he starts again, "you want me to act on your fantasies without having to be asked to do so? After all, I've been inside that pretty little head of yours. I know every single one of your naughty desires you have, Y/N... There's no point in hiding them from me."

"I want-" You try to tell him, but you just seem so lost on your own words. You don't just want one thing, or two, or even several. You want all of it. All of him, and all of his cock. You can't tear your eyes away from him; he's alluring, addictive, intoxicating...

"I want you," you manage to breathe out, and he acts on it immediately.

"You want me?" he taunts, his free hand reaching down to easily curl two fingers into your dripping cunt. "You want me to play with you, is that it?"

He's merciless, his thumb rubbing circles onto your clit before making a come-hither motion against that soft spot deep inside of you.

"Fuck!" You can't help but cry out, slick already gushing from you no thanks to the aphrodisiac. "More!" you find yourself asking. "Please, more! Need-!"

And he gives you more. He continues to finger you through your orgasm, spreads you open only to lick it all up with his tongue before curling it deep inside of you and sending you to another high. The more you give him the harder he seems to work at you, but you're too blissed out to put two and two together. He is an incubus, after all. He feeds on pleasure.

After you think you can't take it anymore, after you've been pushed over the edge and fucked stupid on his monstrous cock too many times to count, you wonder when it will end. You've been at this hours, and you should feel tired. You should be exhausted and worn out, ready to crawl in bed and pass out into a deep sleep. But despite how much you've cum, Deku still hasn't, and instead of feeling worn out, you feel as needy as ever, unsatisfied in the sense that you still want more.

"Deku," you plead with him, "please! Please, please, give- ahah! Ahhhnnngh-! Need more!"

"Oh, dearest, I'm only getting started."

Sometime after, hours into your eventful evening, Izuku finally takes mercy on your poor soul and decides enough is enough...for tonight.

"You gave me your half of the contract, so it's only fair I give you mine, isn't it?"

Somewhere in the middle of your eyes rolling back and your body convulsing under him, you wonder what he's talking about. But you can't retain the thought, and it fades away as quickly as it came. You don't have time to think about that anyway while he finally loses himself, cock throbbing against your fluttering walls as he fills you to the brim with his scorching demon seed and punctures the skin above your collarbone with his canines.

You feel absolutely delirious with pleasure, wave after wave of bliss consuming you until you're sure you're going to pass out. You squirm excessively under him, hands gripping into his hair and pulling, fingers trembling as you drink in your highs together. Somehow you feel tainted and whole at the same time, impossibly hot, completely lost in the feeling he's giving you.

And then you feel it, something searing hot burning through you, something incredibly potent and yet not tangible acting as a tether to bind the two of you together invisibly.

"You're mine. You're all mine!"

You find yourself unable to bend from his will, your body acting exactly how he wants it to and your mind giving in to his commands.

There's no going back now.

Maybe you should learn to read the fine print before signing contracts with demons so easily.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Ooo, I kinda like the idea that no one sees Tubbo's akumatization coming, even Tubbo? Like, if Ladybug and Chat have filled them in that folks who are experiencing negative emotions are likely candidates for akumatization, then when the Miraculous get taken back by Gabriel, they're all on the lookout for folks who are upset so they can try to get a jump on preventing or stopping akumatizations. Therapuffy and Eret are basically working overtime to encourage open communication and emotional literacy among everyone, lol. And Tubbo's so good at appearing functional, at pushing down his issues, at focusing on the next task to ignore all the past failures, it kind of goes assumed that he's doing alright.

So one day, it's been like a couple weeks since the Miraculous got stolen back. Everyone's been on high alert trying to keep akumas under control, sometimes even responding before Ladybug and Chat do. Because they're just kids, aren't they? They should have a normal teenage experience as much as they can; the Gremlins can handle it as long as they bring the akuma to Marinette to purify later. Point being, the Gremlins have been busy.

And then Tubbo just has one bad day. He woke up on the wrong side of the bed, restless and exhausted from nightmares he didn't bother to tell anyone about, because if he can get back to sleep eventually, clearly they weren't that bad. Plus he's stressed about finding the Miraculous again; it wasn't so hard to steal them in the first place, so why are they so hard to track down now? He'd bonded a little bit with Nooroo and Duusuu, he doesn't want to think about them back in Gabriel's clutches. So he's working himself to the bone trying to figure out where Gabriel might be.

And he and Ranboo are out patrolling for akumas or any other sign of Hawkmoth, and at just the wrong time, Tubbo overhears some kids talking about current events.

"He's such an idiot! Honestly, he's a horrible president. That whole country would be better off without him."

And Tubbo... he knows they're not talking about him. Obviously they're not. No one here even knows about L'manberg, and Tubbo hasn't been president for a long time. All the same, it brings up memories of Dream, smugly telling Tubbo that he'd been playing him for weeks, for months, calling him the worst president ever, calling him stupid. And no one had even denied it, least of all Tubbo. He can't think of one decision he'd made as president that he doesn't want to take back.

But it was ages ago. And Tubbo's over it, he definitely is, he doesn't care. So he ignores his stewing thoughts and keeps walking with Ranboo, just a bit quieter.

And a few minutes later, they see an akuma flying towards them, and they both get ready to follow it and warn whoever it's going for. But it doesn't turn away, it just keeps flying towards them. And they exchange an uneasy look.

"Tubbo?" Ranboo asks, a little nervous when he takes a step away and the akuma doesn't veer from its course. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Tubbo says immediately, like he always does, like it's routine. "I'm fine. It's not me, I'm totally fine."

But the akuma clearly thinks otherwise. And as Ranboo watches in growing apprehension, the akuma dodges Tubbo's attempts to swat it away and lands neatly on the necklace he wears close to his chest, a locket with a group photo of all the gremlins on one side and a portrait of Michael on the other. Black clouds cover the locket, and a familiar purple butterfly appears over Tubbo's eyes as Ranboo shouts in alarm.

And Tubbo had wondered in the past what it was like to be akumatized, how Hawkmoth had apparently been persuasive enough to convince half of Paris to attack their heroes. But now, he understands: it isn't Hawkmoth's offer that convinces people. It's the sudden rush of emotions that floods his veins, every inch of him abruptly crying out in hurt and betrayal and outrage. It's the feeling of a pot boiling over, scalding water splashing out and burning everything in range. It's the furious tremble in his fingers as he's consumed by the sole thought that he didn't deserve what happened to him, that he's been wronged so deeply it hurts, that the only way to make it stop is to make everyone else understand just how he feels. The blood roaring in Tubbo's ears is almost enough to drown out Ranboo, who's shouting something and tugging at Tubbo's arm, but Hawkmoth's voice comes through crystal clear.

"Ah, little Tyrant," says Gabriel Agreste, pleased as the cat who caught the canary, and doesn't that just make Tubbo's blood boil even more. "I was hoping it'd be one of you eventually."

"Get out of my head," Tubbo says, teeth clenched so tightly his jaw aches.

"Oh, of course, Tyrant," Gabriel placates. "Of course. But first... First, I am going to give you the power to ensure you're never attacked again. I will make sure you are heard. I will give you an outlet for all that fury simmering inside of you. And in return, you are going to bring me the other Miraculous."

And logically. Logically, Tubbo knows it's a bad deal. Logically, he knows Marinette and Adrien are his friends, and he'd never try to take their Miraculous. Logically, he should say no, should get Marinette to the akuma and cleanse it and move on and ignore it.

But his emotions are running higher and hotter than he thought possible, and all he can see is Hawkmoth, offering him a way to get rid of them, to feel better, to make everyone finally get it.

And it's not like it'd be hard to grab a couple of Miraculous.

"Alright," says Tyrant, eyes dark. "You've got a deal."

There's a crash of thunder, a billowing outpour of smoke from the corrupted locket, and then Tubbo vanishes, leaving Ranboo alone in the streets of Paris.

"Uh," says Ranboo into his phone, voice high-pitched with panic. "Guys, we have a problem."

;-;

Welp. This hurts. Thanks anon. Oh boy. This hurts a lot. Oh wow.

[har-rison-s]

stellars: 20

a/n: welp, we all know what's unavoidably coming. not gonna lie, his death made me really sad. i remember sitting in the theatre with my bestie and her sister, who just happened to be there with us on accident, crying at his death scene, and she hadn't even watched the first movie... it was so sad :( and the music written and played during that scene just crushes my heart every time. winston truly deserved better :/ anyways, happy (sort of) reading!

my paypal (would be much appreciated since i’m saving up for uni next year :))

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warnings: decriptions of the flare virus, character death, mentioned (subtly) suicide

“Those mountains, that’s gotta be it,” Thomas points out, even stretching his arm out before him for effect, “that’s where we’re going.” He says and breathes deeply in and out. The gladers don’t seem to be encouraged by that. Mars glances at Thomas and adjusts the hood of her jumper around her head. She looks back at the mountains.

“That’s a long way off,” Newt says, voicing what everyone else but Mars and Thomas seem to be thinking. The brunette looks at him, denial in his eyes.

“We can make it.” He says. “Let’s keep moving.” Thomas urges and the gladers begin to take steps forward. But Winston suddenly collapses in his effort to follow, dropping from between Teresa and Frypan into the sand below. Everyone calls his name, but he doesn’t seem to be answering. Frypan is at his side immediately, and sees that Winston is heavily sweating and gasping for air, wheezing for it. 

The gladers look between themselves. Mars furrows her eyebrows. “We need to find a way to carry him,” she says, “make some… something to carry him in.” 

“Like a stretcher?” Newt suggests, and Mars shrugs, then nods. There aren’t many other options. The boys immediately get to work, trying to find anything usable for a stretcher around them. Aris finds metal rods under some layers of sand, which Mars deducts they can use as the sides. She gets to work in tying any available clothes and fabrics between the tube-like objects to create a make-shift bed for Winston. Teresa, Thomas and Newt join in helping her, and they all, like Mars herself, wonder where these survivalist/engineer skills in her seem to come from. 

A last abandoned bridge stands between them and the rest of the wasteland that Jansen deemed the Scorch. The gladers are all exhausted from the journey they’ve made this far already, even Thomas’ energy is expendable, but they keep moving, and work in shifts to pull Winston along. It’s already draining to walk just by yourself, but to pull another person along with you is unexplainably tiring. And the sun makes no hurry in setting. 

After they’ve crossed the river valley and passed the bridge at that, the gladers find a stone building behind a sand dune, where they’re able to hide from the sun and wind. They lay Winston down on the sandy ground, which he deemed most comfortable, and make camp near him, all under the stone shack. Mars and Newt settle down by the far corner, where the shadow is the longest and most pleasant. Mars takes the backpack and her jacket off, and lays the article of clothing down so she and Newt would have something to sit on. 

They sit down with a grunt and sigh out of effort. Their legs feel like rubber. Mars opens her bag to see what they can have for lunch. The same granola bars and canned food that Frypan gave them, nothing more. “One bar each for now,“ Newt suggests. Mars looks at him, then down at their ‘menu’ and sighs. She’s hungrier for much more than one granola bar, but she doesn’t have much of a choice. The time they’ll spend reaching the mountains is unknowable, incalculable, so she knows they must save their resources as much as they can. She reluctantly nods and hands Newt one of the packets, takes another one for herself and then closes the backpack to lessen her temptation for eating more. 

Newt notices her mood growing sour, and understands her very well. He’s been in a similar situation before. He wasn’t exactly the first one in the Glade, like Alby was, but there was a point when the Creators hadn’t sent food up to the Glade for a while, and the Gladers had to live on scraps. It was during a period that, Newt suspects, the Creators were figuring out how regularly and how much food they needed to send up in order for the gladers to be eating and living normally. It’s just a guess, but could be true. So he knows what it’s like to live on scraps.

“It’s just for a while,“ he tells Mars, hoping she’ll understand. She looks up at him, her granola bar between her teeth, and nods, looking away at the same time. She prefers not to talk, feeling like all her anger will bubble up and explode at the wrong person if she starts speaking. She also theorises that after eating this small bar she will be in a better mood, too, so she tries to enjoy it and get it down to her stomach to her best abilities. Newt watches her for a while, but looks away, giving her some space. He finishes his granola bar before she does, and crumples the packet between his fingers, stuffing it into his pants’ pocket afterwards. He presses a kiss to Mars’ forehead before rising to his feet and walking towards the other end of the shack.

Mars sighs, but lets herself a smile at Newt’s kind gesture. She knows what he’s trying to say, and she appreciates it very much, even if she is a grumpy gremlin at the moment. She’s just exhausted and hungry. She doesn’t even want to think about walking in the near future, though she knows that this break will be over and they’ll be on their way again soon. She rests her back against one of the stone pillars and closes her eyes, sighing again. 

Soon enough she hears footsteps approaching, and she guesses it’s probably Newt again. But when she squints one of her eyes open, she sees it’s Minho. He crouches down next to her. “How’re you doing over here?“ He inquires, a playful smile on his lips. Mars shakes her head. “Thought so.“

“And you?“ She croaks out. Minho shrugs and looks out towards the wasteland of sand behind them both. “How’s Winston?“ He sighs at the question. 

“Not well.“ He answers. “Hasn’t eaten anything, or drank his water. Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what.“ He admits and looks back at Mars. She gives him a look of disbelief. 

“You and I both know what’s wrong,“ she corrects him, “we just can’t bear saying it out loud.“ She pats Minho’s hand. He considers her words as he looks at her hand, glances up at her again. And he nods, rising to his feet afterwards in silence, his eyes now sad. Mars watches Minho as he leaves, returning to his previous spot on a pile of rocks, and looks over the rest of her friends. She didn’t mean to make Minho sad, but… they should be thinking realistically now, optimism won’t get them far. She knows that, and Minho knows that.

“How’s it lookin’?“ Comes a shout from Newt that, Mars realises, is directed towards Thomas and Teresa. They’re standing almost at the top of the sand dune they all climbed down from. They seem to be talking to each other. Thomas glances over his shoulder at Newt, and sees Mars far behind, too. She gives him a wave. 

“Just a little further,“ Thomas calls back, nodding at Newt. Now that’s a pile of klunk, Mars knows now for sure. There’s no way they’ll make it for the mountains today, they’re farther away than that. And they're all exhausted. Newt turns back to face his friends, thinking the same thing Mars is, and sighs.

“That’s not very convincing,“ he deducts and makes his way back to Mars. She keeps watching Thomas and Teresa, suddenly growing suspicious of them both. What is so private that they have to talk to each other alone? Mars feels her anger returning and shakes her head with closed eyes. She has to keep calm, and she definitely can’t hold any form of grudge against any of her friends now. It would be useless, and would only burn her energy more. 

Newt doesn’t say anything as he sits across Mars, his legs crossed in front of him and arms locked around his knees. She doesn’t say anything, either, and so they just in silence, bubbling in their own personal turmoil inside rather than outside. They have both nothing and everything to talk about, but they know it’s better to save up their energy and breath for the walk further, rather than spend it on some words that will go nowhere.

A sudden movement, followed by the loud sound of a gunshot, brings them out of their exhaustion break and focuses their attention on their friend group. Frypan yells for Thomas and Teresa to come back down while Mars and Newt are scrambling to their feet to see what’s happened. Upon arriving, Mars squeezes her head in between Minho and Frypan, and sees that Winston is awake, but he’s crying. Frypan has the most terrified look on his face, and Newt notes the gun that’s been thrown into the sand just seconds ago.

“What happened?“ Thomas asks his friends.

“I don’t know, he just... woke up, grabbed the gun and tried to…“ Frypan doesn’t finish the sentence because he certainly doesn’t want to. It’s too gruesome of a thought. Mars thinks Winston might have tried to shoot Frypan, or someone else, but then—

“Give it back,“ the wounded boy pleads. 

“Winston, you okay?“ Thomas asks, looking right at the boy in question. Quite a dumb question to ask, Mars thinks. but she looks to Winston. He’s shaking his head.

“It’s growing… inside me,“ he says and lifts up his shirt, no doubt to show his wound. But the sight is much different than his friends would have expected. There’s no visible scratches or blood, not the regular kind, at least. Where light blue veins should have been, dark red ones, so dark they look black, cover the boy’s lower stomach, making the whole wound look like a spider. The gladers pull slightly away, gasping. Mars is one of the closest to Winston, and she sees ribbons in different colors snaking under his skin. They look like venom, and the smell the open wound has is horrible. Very similar to the smell in the abandoned mall. Mars’ eyes brim with tears, “I’m not gonna make it.“ Winston declares with another shake of his head. Mars covers mouth with her hand and turns away. The gladers have all fallen silent. “Please. Please, don’t let me turn into… one of those… things.“ Winston speaks with hiccups in his voice, wheezes in his throat. 

Mars dares to look at him again, but the sight saddens her. She understands Winston. But what can they do? They can’t kill their friend, they can’t kill Winston. Newt holds the black gun in his hand, it lays heavy against his muscles, and he moves to sit by Winston’s side. Mars draws in a quiet gasp, thinking Newt’s actually going to do the deed, going to put Winston out of his misery. But instead, the boy gives the gun to Winston, wrapping his trembling fingers around it. 

“Thank you,“ Winston manages to tell Newt, “now… get outta here.“ He pleads, and it only makes Mars tear up more. She can’t seem to move, in a bad way hypnotised by what she sees. Her and Winston hadn’t grown to be close friends over the days they’ve known each other, but they still fought for each other, they fought together. They’ve come this far… and now she has to say goodbye to him. She doesn’t think she’s able to.

“Goodbye, Winston,“ Newt tells him quietly, in the voice he can muster up, and it's so hard to, before rising back up to his feet. Mars can see how much it hurts Newt to do this, how it pains him to see his friend like this, for the last time. Newt looks defeated. Mars wants to stay, and she also wants to run away as fast as possible, but she can’t begin to move her feet, or move any muscle in her body at all. 

Frypan and Minho say their goodbyes to Winston, and Mars still stands there by Winston’s side. An arm locks around her shoulders, and she knows it’s Newt’s. She draws in a shaking breath and bids her own farewell to the infected boy. “Bye, Winston,” she whispers and sniffles, more tears dripping down her cheeks simultaneously. Newt gives Winston one last wave, as if they were back in the Glade, as if they were just passing each other on their daily routines. And Newt begins to lead Mars away, back on their way towards the mountains.

Passing Thomas, Mars catches the guilty look in his eyes, and the tears that brim them. She can only guess how guilty he feels. Leading his friends out of the Maze, then WICKED catching them again, then leading them out into the Scorch. And where has that gotten them? Winston didn’t even want to leave the Glade at first. Thomas suddenly wishes that Winston never came with him. He wishes he never asked him to come along. It’s all his fault.

“I’m sorry,“ is all that Thomas can offer to the former Slicer, barely able to speak through his tears. It’s the last thing Mars can hear before she’s climbing the sand dune again, with Newt by her side, clutching her close to him. And with her exhaustion, her muscles hurting and her mouth and lungs going dry, her eyes overspilling with tears, and her heart filling with all different types of emotions, Mars can’t go any further. She collapses into the sand, onto her hands and knees, and sobs. She can’t do this anymore. 

Newt pinches the bridge of his nose, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes, and sighs deeply, trying to get himself together. He can’t deal with Mars right now, having his own troubles, after losing Winston. But he can help her. “Mars, darling,“ he pleads quietly, placing his hands on her shoulders once again, he tries to raise her up, “get up, please, we have to go.“ She shakes her head at him, and Newt sighs again, deeper this time. He’s so close to bursting out crying himself, but they can’t waste their strength on crying anymore. 

Luckily, Minho has noticed they’re not moving forwards, and is coming back towards them to help out. He nods at Newt, communicating to him without words, as close friends do, and they raise Mars up to her feet again, helping each other. Neither of them can carry Mars, not emotionally, not physically. So Newt nods at Minho, thanking him for the help and telling him to go, telling him he can manage from here on out. Newt sighs with closed eyes before bracing himself again. He swings their backpack onto his shoulders and clutches Mars’ frame with one hand while his other one grips her jacket. He knows the sun is very much deadly until it sets, and that they both could use some shielding for their faces, but they have no time for that now. It would only take longer to get her to do something.

So he just begins walking, the trembling Mars by his side and taking steps of her own along with him through the sand, despite that it takes everything in her to just take each step. The wind blows sand into her face, and her tears mix up with the sand, making everything around her eyes itch. Sand flies into her eyes, making them irritated. She groans angrily at them, but keeps walking, all the while doing her best at getting the sand out. She’ll have to hold her hand in front of her eyes from now on, she knows. So she tries.

The gladers make the rest of the journey in silence. Thomas walks at the very end of the group, around eight feet behind Mars and Newt, who both make their way while silently crying, tears spilling down their cheeks, as they can no longer hold them back. Mars feels like she won’t ever stop crying. The pain for Winston, for his life, the fear of the virus and the people infected by it, the pain for all the kids their age left at the WICKED facility so present and strong in her chest that it seems it won’t end for the rest of eternity. She wishes it would all stop. She wishes she wouldn’t feel so much for everyone and everything, just for a while.

Only after a few miles, the sound of a gunshot stops the gladers in their track. They know what’s happened, yet they look between each other in despair. None of them move for the next few moments, they just stand in the silence. Until Thomas starts walking ahead again, and the rest of them follow. That was the sound of Winston ending his own life, Mars acknowledges. It shouldn’t have been like this. It should never have been like this. This is so unfair. 

The gladers keep moving towards the mountains until sunset. When it comes, it brings relief to them all. Mars feels like she can breathe just a little easier. Among the wasteland, the group find an old, abandoned ship that has tilted to one side, and they deem it good enough to spend the night at. It provides shelter from the wind and sun. Mars’ theory about a river or sea previously running through this valley was correct, the old ship only proves it. 

Frypan and Minho get a fire started while everyone else gathers and makes camp around it in a circle. Mars has been quiet ever since they left Winston, and so has Thomas. Minho, Frypan and Newt have uttered a few words amongst themselves, but the rest have been quiet. Mars even looks to have become sort-of catatonic. 

Newt has left her to her own devices for the most part. Frankly, he’s too exhausted and in too much of his own inner turmoil to help her out of hers. He feels a bit bad about it, but he just can’t deal with that much right now. It’s not like it’s hard to take care of her, of course not. Everything is just a bit too overwhelming for them both. A little space from one another won’t hurt.

Mars settles her jacket and scarf against a wall of some sort, and sits with her back against it. Upon yawning and touching her face, she finds hurt parts of skin on her features. They’re hot to the touch and seem to burn when she gently presses her finger against them. Could they be some kind of sun burns? From the deadly sun? She shakes her head, her eyelids dropping once again. Another thing to deal with.

The sun has completely set, leaving the gladers in the dark, apart from the small fire Frypan and Minho have started. They simply sit next to each other, some further away than others. Mars sits the farthest out of them all, but she still makes a gap between Newt and Teresa. She watches his back, sees his every inhale and exhale of breath, how his lungs and rib cage move along with every breath. She sees his blonde hair full of sand. And suddenly she feels guilty about her breakdown, about him having to help her walk earlier. She draws her knees closer to her chest and an absent look fills her eyes. Suddenly she wishes she wouldn’t be here at all. Wouldn’t be such a burden. He’s clearly suffering himself.

“I thought we were supposed to be immune,” Minho dares to utter the first words between them all. There’s truth in what he says. The gladers all believed that they were immune to this virus. That’s what the chancellor lady said. Perhaps it was just another one out of a million lies WICKED has told them. 

“Not all of us,” Teresa says and in such a firm manner that it makes Mars suspicious. She sounds like she knows something. Figuring the gladers would have some questions after her response, Teresa quickly adds in a shaking voice, “I guess.” She shrugs her shoulders. Still, Mars’ suspicion doesn’t go away. There’s something Teresa isn’t telling them. No doubt Thomas knows about it, too, whatever it is. 

“Well…” Newt crosses his legs in front of him and sighs, “if Winston can get infected, we should assume so can the rest of us.” He states and looks around at his friends. He knows they’re not exactly the words they’d want to hear, but they’re true. Their chances were always slim, and now they’ve seemingly doubled down to almost zero. Mars nods, suddenly feeling much more present and alive than she did in the moments before. Like his words of truth brought her back to Earth. 

She never notices, until he speaks up, that Frypan is silently crying. “I never thought I’d say it,” he starts to say, and Mars lifts her eyes to look at him, wondering what could ever come next, and she sees the tear lines streaking the boy’s cheeks, “but I miss the Glade.” He admits and gulps with a heavy feeling in his throat and heart. 

Mars nods again, agreeing with it. Everything was, in some ways, so much simpler there. They had rules they lived by, everyone had jobs, everyone had a role to play. Order, routine, goals. And what do they have now? They’re out of control of the completely foreign environment they’re forced to live in. There’s no rules here, except maybe to stay together and stay alive. There’s no order. Do they even have roles to play? And what about their goals? The only goal right now is to get to the Right Arm—if they’re real—and get to them alive. 

They were sort-of safe in that small Glade. Up until the Doors didn’t close and Grievers came inside, of course, but… it was a home to them. Now they have no idea where home is, or was, or if there even is one. They don’t know where they belong. And all these questions, all these problems, they didn’t even think of in the Glade. There was no need to. Sure, about the home thing—everyone had had their doubts about it, had their doubts that the Glade was their home. But Sun flares destroying the Earth? A deadly, contagious virus that attacks the brain? People experimenting on them and using them for a supposed cure? None of that had crossed their minds.

So to some level, that amnesia they were put under before entering the Maze, was good. Sometimes not knowing is the best thing a person can do. Just being a little fool saves you from everything, from hurt and confusion. And so Mars wishes she was just that. Maybe she’d be happily getting drained for the cure in the WICKED facility, dreaming about Newt, not having any idea of what’s actually happening to her, and then dying. Unaware of the horrors of the world. But would that be better in any way than fighting for her life out here with her own body and soul? 

She wipes her fallen tears and sniffles. She can imagine that the Glade grew to be a real home for the boys. They spent three years inside it, trying to find a way out, and yet they lived there for three years with each other. Together. With their rules and jobs and routines and roles to play. She believes that Frypan misses it, and she knows well why. It’s great being free, but… at what cost?

Mars looks to Thomas and sees how sour his facial expression is. He must feel incredibly guilty about Winston, about Frypan, about everyone and everything. He must think he’s the reason Winston got infected, he must think he’s the reason they’re in this very unhopeful situation now. 

But he’s wrong. Mars knows he’s wrong, and wants to tell him so. He’s the reason they’re free. They’re all free from WICKED thanks to him. More of her tears fall as she watches Thomas, storms alive in his skull that are visible in his eyes, now filled with tears, too. She wishes she could find the right words to say to him. To make him feel better, to remind him of what he’s done for all of them, to set his mind straight again.

Thomas rises to his feet and walks away from his friends, everyone looking after his leaving figure. Mars almost jumps to her feet and jogs after him, but something freezes her in place. And Newt is the one who beats her to it, anyway. She guesses he must know how Thomas feels, too, just like she knows. And he’s actually better at words and saying the right thing than she is. He always has a firm, optimistic belief and solution for everything. So she remains seated, watching the fire and glancing at the two boys sitting near-by once in a while. Her closest friends. 

Maybe she should finally get to sleep. It seems like days since their first camp outside the abandoned mall, days since Mars last slept. She pulls her jacket and scarf down to the sandy ground, stretches them as far as they go, so less of her body would be laying on the cold, itchy sand, and lays down on them. She pushes her hair behind her ear and keeps her eyes fixated on the fire. Her friends seem to have the same thought as her about sleeping, and soon, more or less, all of them are laying down on their sides or backs and trying to fall asleep. Thomas, the last one to do so, destroys the fire so they wouldn’t be seen during the night, and gets to sleep, too.

A soft knock comes to her door, and Annie immediately rises from her bed, awake in an instant. “Uhh… come in,” she tells whoever it is on the other side, and finds her voice a bit shaky and hoarse. She clears her throat just as the person opens her door and steps through. Quite the odd time of night to be coming into her room, if it’s one of the staff. Her clock on the wall shows that it’s ten minutes past midnight.

But through the door steps a boy, and then another one behind him, and a girl is with them, too. Annie furrows her eyebrows, suddenly scared of them, and suddenly scared of the fact that they are three against her in a closed room. She pulls herself back into the depth of her bed, stretching the covers over her legs. But one of the boys smiles.

“We’re not gonna do you any harm,” he tells her. It’s the one with dark brown hair. The girl seems to have hair of the same color. The other boy has blonde hair. Annie still feels uneasy, “well, hey—my name is Thomas.” He starts and walks over to Annie’s bed. He extends a hand towards her. “What’s yours?”

She gulps, but she can see in the boy’s eyes that he truly means well. He doesn’t have a trace of that pretend kindness the staff do on his face. She gives him her hand and they shake. “I’m Annie.” She tells him and even manages a smile. 

“We hope you weren’t doin’ anything important,” the blonde boy says from behind Thomas, and Annie stands up to see him. To see all of them. The blonde boy has something different in the way he pronounces words, and talks in general, “come with us. We’re gonna show you something cool.” The blonde grins, and Annie immediately feels at ease. 

She finds that they’re all wearing the same pyjamas - white shirts and blue trousers. Annie is the only one to wear any socks, though, the rest of their feet are bare. She wonders how they’re not cold. But she nods at the blonde boy, and he leads them all outside. Annie pauses at the door, and the three kids look back at her. “Are we…” she starts to ask, but the question dies on her tongue, “won’t we get caught?” 

Thomas and the other two look between themselves before shaking their heads. “We’ve been doing this for a while, and they haven’t stopped us yet.” The blonde boy says. “Oh, I’m Newt.” He offers her his hand, too, and she shakes it. “Come on, we don’t have all the time in the world.” He says and closes the door to her room. The door Annie thought was always automatically locked as it closed. Has it been open all this time? Has she had the chance to wander around all these years? “We’ve heard a lot about you, Annie,” the blonde boy says as he leads them three down the hallway, “was a bit of a hustle to figure out where exactly they keep you, but Teresa here is a bit of a genius with all the computers and cameras—“ the dark-haired girl nods at Annie, and she returns the gesture, adding an uneasy smile, “—so we found you. Still, it takes some time off our fun times to come and get you, but I bet you it’s worth it.”

Annie keeps quiet, not really knowing what to say and not wanting to voice all her anxieties about their current situation. She doesn’t want to seem like a party pooper, because these kids are obviously just like her and they’re nice to her, and they’ve promised to take her somewhere fun. She doesn’t want to ruin the fun with all her questions.

The blonde boy leads them into an elevator that takes them down to one of the lowest floors, and then he takes them down a few twists and turns until finally, he stops at a door which has a sign ‘maintenance room’ on it. But it looks old, and the door looks rusty and covered with dust. “Here we go,” Newt says and swings the door open. 

The kind of room the door reveals doesn’t surprise Mars in the slightest. An actual old maintenance room, shelves lining the walls, old cleaning equipment scattered here and there. But what surprises her is the room’s inhabitants. Two other boys. They sit on old chairs that face the door, and their faces shine in joy at the sight of Annie and the others. They have the same pyjamas on as Annie does. Newt quickly closes the door behind them, making Annie feel a bit more uneasy again, and they step inside properly.

“What do we have here?” A boy about Newt’s height approaches Annie, the other boy, taller than him, right behind him. But their stances aren’t threatening. “You must be Annie.” He says and shakes her hand. What a weird night, Annie thinks.

“Yeah, how do you know that?” She asks and looks over the whole group of kids, confusion apparent on her face, but, with that, a smile, too. 

“Through the grapevine,” the other boy says with a grin on his features, “we’ve heard that you’re the most hopeful subject of us all. Supposed to be taking us to space and what not,” he says and makes the kids chuckle, “I’m Alby.” They shake hands. “This here is Minho.” 

Annie feels overwhelmed with all these people, and with all the information they’ve given her so far. She sighs but tries her best to maintain a kind and polite face, tries to smile as true as she can. 

“I pictured you looking way different,” Minho admits, and that makes Annie laugh. Genuinely laugh. 

“Yeah? How did I look in your head?” She asks and crosses her arms over her chest. The other kids see that she has some kind of attitude, it becomes more apparent with the grin that grows across her face. 

“All nerdy and stuff,” Minho answers while he takes his seat back on the chair again, “but you don’t look like an Annie at all.” Annie laughs again and shakes her head. She moves to stand by one of the shelves, resting her back against it. 

“Can you tell us about the space mission?” Newt asks, taking a seat on the dirty floor, his face alight with glee and curiosity. Annie looks at him, at first missing his question completely, but then she considers it and looks away, sighing. “Come on, give us something.”

“Where will we be going, which planet?” The boy named Alby asks. Annie still looks with incomplete trust to them all. The staff might be watching them right now, they could hear everything that they’re saying. Annie doesn’t even know if she’s supposed to talk about it to other kids. She honestly didn’t even know she could meet the other kids. She always knew she wasn’t the only one here, but meeting them seemed like an impossible chance.

“Um… Mars.” She says quietly, her leg moving from side to side out of anxiety, as she looks at the ground beneath her. She’s scared she’ll get punished for telling them, punished for hanging out with them at all. 

“Hey, don’t worry,” the Thomas boy rests a hand on her shoulder, “you’re okay here with us.”

Annie shrugs. “I’m just scared they’ll punish me,” she admits with a shaky voice, “like they did when I refused to take my made-up name.” She says and anxiously looks around at the others. They know what she’s talking about, and Thomas and Teresa understand her most of all. But they haven’t taken away their part in building the Mazes, so there’s hardly a chance they’ll remove Annie from the space mission. Especially when she had the idea for it, at the bright age of five, and has been its driving force ever since. 

“They won’t,” Teresa promises her, “me and Thomas are… sorta special like you. They haven’t done anything yet.” Annie looks at her and nods. Her words comfort her very much, and she takes them to heart. 

“You know what,” Minho starts to say, “I think I know what kinda name suits you.” He tells Annie, looking straight into her glassy eyes. She waits for him to speak further, it is apparent in her eyes, and he does. “Mars.”

Annie bursts out laughing. “But that’s a planet!” She protests.

“So?” Minho makes wide eyes. “Annie is a stupid name, no offense—“

“It’s not my real name.” She says, shaking her head. “You can apologise to them all you like.” She tells Minho and raises her finger up towards the ceiling, indicating she’s talking about their higher-ups. That makes everyone in the room laugh. 

“I’ll make sure to,” Minho responds, “but anyway, Annie is a stupid name and… well, if they can choose a name for you, then why can’t we?” He shrugs.

“I kinda wish I could choose it myself,” she admits with a heavy sigh, “but Mars is cool.” She tells Minho and grins wide, through her gathered tears. Newt stands up and walks over to her.

“We don’t have anything to toast with like they do in the movies, but,” he clasps a hand on her shoulder tightly, shaking her whole frame and making Annie chuckle lightly, “here’s to Mars.” He says and gives her a smile before looking around at his friends.

“To Mars!”

The following day Mars could only describe as a horror movie. Only one without cranks or people chasing them. One where the biggest antagonist is the sun and its incredible heat. And the wind. And the sand. It’s just exhausted gladers against the deadly elements of nature.

When it feels like they’ve walked a couple of miles already, in reality they’ve walked half of that imaginary distance. Water is running out, there are no signs of shelter anywhere, in the far or near distance. It would be better for them to move during the night, because the sun doesn’t bother them during the night, and they won’t be seen in the dark. But they can’t sleep during the day, because the sun is too bright, and it’d be way too dangerous to lay unconscious in the middle of the Scorch while the sun shines. They’d be too visible, and WICKED would find them in a snap of fingers. 

They’re all out of options, except to keep moving. So they try their best to do that. The gladers don’t talk to each other at all, saving their breath, energy and mood. Cause they know that they’re all pretty easily annoyed. Once the water and food will be gone--which they will soon--Mars would not be surprised if any of them began to get angry at each other for that. It would be useless, but unavoidable.

She’s surprised, though, when Thomas makes his way to the back, where she walks, at the very back of the group, a few feet behind Newt, and walks next to her. She looks at him, squinting her eyes in the thankfully dying sunlight, and wonders when he’s gonna speak up. Because it seems pretty obvious that he will.

“You’re the only one I can trust with this,” he begins with a confession, and Mars is glad he’s whispering. She’s sure the others would have heard him if he was speaking in his regular volume of voice, “I think… something’s wrong with Teresa.”

Mars furrows her eyebrows. “Is she infected, too?” She asks and grows scared at the same time, panic rising in her like a hungry predator. Thomas shakes his head. Mars feels a little relieved.

“She told me… she thinks we should go back,” he says.

“What? That’s insane!” Mars immediately protests. But Thomas nods.

“I know, I know,” he says, “just listen. She said they gave her her memories back.” Thomas explains. Mars makes a bewildered face. She got her memories back? Why only her? And why her exactly? What's going on? “She remembers quite a lot more than we do. And there’s… something she’s not telling me.”

“I knew she knew something,” Mars says with a shake of her head.

“How?” Thomas inquires.

“It was in the way she said we’re not all immune,” she responds, “the way her voice sounded. Like she knew it for a fact.” She sighs again. “Did she say anything else?”

Thomas shakes his head. “Nothing useful, really,” he replies, “but, like I said, she’s hiding something from me. And doesn’t want to tell me much.” He sighs. “I think we should be really careful around her, you and me. And… I was wondering if you’d had any new memories.” He admits, and turns his head to momentarily look at Mars.

She looks back at him and then looks back towards where they’re going. Does she have any new memories? Ones that Thomas doesn’t know about? “Well… I had one with Chancellor Paige.” She starts to say. “She was in a room with you, Teresa and some other people. I don’t know who, but Jansen was there, too,” Mars sighs, “she was telling everyone that a mission to go to Mars failed,” once again, the sentence rises amusement in her. Only this time she lets out a dry, airy chuckle, “apparently, I was the head of that operation. So because it failed, my team were… killed, and I was to be sent up into the Maze soon, with everyone else. But… she said something about me having manual memory loss, instead of what everyone else had, I guess,” she sighs, “and Jansen was to be in charge of it.”

Thomas considers her words, and thinks he can remember something like that. A big announcement that made him very sad. But it also gave him something to do, something to think about, someone… Someone to protect.

“I also had another one just last night,” Mars draws him out of his realisation, “the first time I met you. And Newt, and Minho. Alby and Teresa, too.” She looks down at her feet slowly moving across the sand. “How Minho actually gave me the name Mars.” She grins. “I’ll have to tell him that later.”

Thomas nods, though his eyes and mind are absent. “The picture becomes clearer.” He says to Mars, and the words confuse her at first, because they’re just so strange. She turns her head to look at him. “Remember I told you… about that feeling I had towards you?” Thomas seems to ask even quieter, below the volume of a whisper and at first, Mars thinks she’s heard him wrong. But she takes in his words and nods, remembering the first night Thomas was in the Pit. “That memory… could explain that.” He says. She sighs and takes a pause.

“This is a bit… off-topic and potentially useless, but,” Mars squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows as she looks up at Thomas, “was that—did the feeling—I mean, I saw you looking funny at me and Newt… yesterday. Could that feeling have anything to do with it?” 

Thomas’ eyelids flutter in a way that says she’s unmasked him. And he knows she’s seen it, so he has no choice but to nod. “Yeah, sorry,” he says, “I feel stupid about it.” Thomas shakes his head. Mars feels quite awkward, and can only guess Thomas feels the same way. “It just… I don’t know, I’m not trying to excuse it, but the feeling sort of gives me, like, this notion that I’m the one to protect you, you know? But then… it’s Newt.” He articulates his feelings with hand gestures, but then his hands fall by his side again. Mars huffs. She’s glad he’s not jealous in any way, but she doesn’t really know what to tell Thomas in response. They walk in tense silence. “Are you guys… not talking?” Thomas squeaks out to Mars.

She looks ahead at the boy in question. “Yeah, but not in a bad way,” she says with a short sigh, “he needs some space to deal with… stuff, and so do I. Better not to burden each other with ourselves. For a while, at least.” She shrugs. Thomas is saddened by those words. Mars turns to look at Thomas momentarily, and sees the look in his eyes. “Tell me about that feeling more.” She requests. 

Thomas gives her weary eyes, but decides to do as he’s requested to. “Well, um… I think that memory is… where the feeling comes from. Like, where it started.” He says. “I felt… that... what WICKED was doing was wrong. Already before then, before that announcement. But with what they decided to do with you that day, I sure knew which side I was on, immediately.”

“And which one is that?” Mars asks him. Thomas looks ahead. He sees the sun setting deeper into the horizon. He feels the slight wind against his face. He feels exhausted, and yet… he is free. Like his friends. Newt did well to remind him last night. He sighs.

“Ours.” 

part twenty-one?

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[callmehopeless]

Hi! I really enjoy your wolfie type stuff, so I was wondering if you could talk some more about what your first rut with Flip would be like. You know, you guys are together but you haven’t yet been exposed to this aspect of him, how would he prepare you, what’s going through your head as it’s happening, etc. thank you in advance if you decide to do anything with this ☺️❤️

I absolutely can! I recieved this a while ago but I wanna get some of these prompts done and this has been living rent-free in my brain palace. Some HCs for you!

His ruts are always goddawful, even if theory dictates they should be hot. Should be something that bring him pleasure, right down to his bones

The big problem is that wanting anyone this much is like being boiled alive, and it’s enough to make Flip need to take some time out to recalibrate himself. Three days off doesn’t sound like much, but when his rut comes around in the middle of a case, it’s hopelessly disorienting

He feels it coming on one night when you’re over at his place; he’s stroking your thigh as you listen to the radio, and this painful urge to fuck you until you’re too exhausted to move is so overwhelming that he fists the material of your skirt and gets awfully woozy

Welp

Not good

He’s explained before what happens during these times - how he’ll become unreasonable and too horny to do much but pin you for the next few days. You, of course, have never been opposed to that

At the best of times, Flip Zimmerman fucks into you like a freight train

He doesn’t have a habit of nesting much or anything like that: but does eat a crazy amount once he realises what’ll be happening. Cooks up steak and chips and enough gravy to drown out the pounding in his head, scoffing it down and getting you to lick his fingers clean

It satisfies a primal urge in him he can’t describe

He calls in sick to the station that night, which makes Bridges mope and grumble - but Flip’s hardly ever taking time off, so there’s no reason to deny the request

He sleeps that night with his body so tangled in yours that it’s inseparable from his own skin, a sheen of sweat covering him as he drags you close to his chest. You’re aflame with excitement and nerves; turned on at the thought of him losing control, knotting you until you’re sore and sated

Somewhere around 4am, you wake to find him panting, thrusting against your hip and cursing under his breath

When you reassure him, he audibly growls in frustration, burying his nose in the crook of your neck as he eclipses his body with yours

He doesn’t say much when he splits you - but the sounds he makes leave you groaning, running your hands through your hair as he drives into you. When he cums, his knot swelling and making him grit his teeth in pure pleasure - he kisses you hard enough to make you tremble, deep orange glowing in his eyes as he threads his hands through your hair

Flip will whisper in your ear how fucking beautiful you look, stuffed full of his knot like this. He’ll peel back from you while he’s still deeply sunk inside, and will look down at the place your bodies join and lose his fucking mind

He’ll tug back on his knot or ask you to grip it just to see if it’ll make him cum all over again

The next few days, he’ll fuck you against everything in the house

Stuff you full up against the fridge, making it rattle when he pushes deep into you and bites your lip

Have you ride him on the floor, making unrelenting eye contact with you, demanding you keep your eyes on his even when you cum

Mounting you on the coffee table, your tits spreading on the glass as he drapes himself over you and rakes sharp nails down your back

By the time it’s all over, Flip’s feeling more than a little bashful, and you’re feeling utterly fucked

[angelamazing]

Unexpectedly

Pairing: Kihyun x Reader

Genre : Fluff

Warnings : None

It had been 2 years since you and Kihyun broke up, it’s not a messy break up as anyone would make it out to be, it was a somewhat mutual decision.

You don’t have time for each other, he was busy with his idol life and you were busy juggling your studies and part time job, you rarely see each other and if you do, it was just for a few minutes and one of you would hurry and leave the other one.

To say it was getting complicated at that time was an understatement.

That was two years ago, and now both of you had achieved what you two had been trying to reach, he became a famous Idol and you now work for the company you’ve been wanting to be in since from the start.

But.

Even if it was two years ago since you two last talked, the feeling still lingers in the depth of your heart, you would occasionally come across his posts on Social Media Everytime you would take a break from continous works.

You sighed as you plopped down your couch. Slumping all the way down just because you were too exhausted to even sit properly.

You reached out for your phone, checking all the e-mails your co-workers had sent you that day.

A familiar ding echoed from your phone as you were scrolling through it, then the notification banner appeared from the top of your screen , you almost dropped your phone on the process after reading the texts written on the said notification.

@yookihhh followed you on Instagram.

You coughed several times as you continously re read the notification your eyes wide as saucers.

You contemplated on wether you should open it or leave it at that, but the voice in your head says you should open it and find out why he suddenly just followed you out of nowhere after two years of having Instagram but the other part of the voice said he probably just wanted to follow for no reason I mean it’s his account he probably just needed followers. It was like a devil and an angel were arguing in your head.

You shook your head taking off all the thoughts you’d been thinking and clicked on it.

Nothing special, he just followed you.

But then as you were about to turn your phone off, another ding sounded from your phone and you almost choked on your spit seeing that Kihyun had sent you a message.

“can he read my mind through my phone?” You thought

You bit your lip as you opened the message.

@yookihhh: Hey

“hey? That's it?” you muttered as you stared at the message “after two years of not talking, you’ll just send me a ‘hey’?”

You turned your phone off placing it on the table face down.

“tch, does he think I'm going to reply to that message? Ha! he wish” you mumbled basically to yourself.

@username: Heyy!

Welp, what happened to what you said earlier? Let's forget about that.

You anxiously waited for his reply.

@yookihhh: How are you?

Your heart stuttered for a second.

@username: I’m good, how about you?

“I've been a mess since we broke up but now i’m overly ecstatic after your message” you thought smiling to yourself.

@yookihhh: i’m doing okay.

You raised your eyebrows at his message.

@username: that's good then.

You nibbled on your nails as you wiggled your thumb hovering above the screen of your phone.

@yookihhh: are you busy today?

Without thinking much, you immediately replied.

@username: no, not really, why?

You tapped your foot anxiously on the floor anticipating his next reply.

@yookihhh: I was thinking.. maybe. Can we meet up? and you know, have dinner?

Your brows shot up at his suggestion

@yookihhh: only if it's okay with you 😅

You smiled as you replied hastily.

@username: of course it is, where do you want to meet?

You were almost screaming from the inside it’s been so long since Kihyun made you feel like this, and it never change even a bit.

***

You made a beeline to your room almost skipping steps as you started humming to some songs while you got ready for your meet up with Kihyun.

You smiled as you tried on several dresses feeling giddy all of a sudden. But after the nonstop trying of different dresses from your wardrobe you’ve finally given up and threw the final dress on your bed sighing.

You looked up at the clock placed on the corner of your room, and realized there's not enough time for you to look good for Kihyun , I mean not that it matters since he said he just wanted to meet up and have dinner.

Having last thoughts, you just threw on random clothes from your bed consists of Jeans and a White button up tucked in front and the first two buttons unbuttoned, you put your hair in a messy bun. Looking at yourself one last time in the mirror you smiled before you went on your merry way.

***

You stepped inside the expensive looking restaurant feeling the cool gush of wind of the air conditioner hit you, making you regret wearing a thin fabric of clothing.

You looked around the place, stopping for a few moments before you spotted Kihyun sitting a few tables down from where you were standing.

He looked handsome, his hair brushed off from his forehead, he was wearing a Leather Jacket followed by a white shirt and a black jeans. He was looking down on his phone brows furrowed.

You exhaled deeply as you made your way towards him, you were halfway towards the table he was sitting in when he looked up and made eye contact with you.

A smile appeared on his lips as he saw you, you almost tripped on air, your heart jumping out of your chest of how breathtaking his smile was.

You mentally scolded yourself as you made your way towards him somewhat presentable while the butterflies in your stomach getting wild.

He stood up from his seat meeting you halfway and gave you a hug. You stiffened for a moment before returning the hug.

He pulled out the chair for you before making his way towards his seat.

Your hands are sweating and you probably look as red as tomato, just sitting infront of Kihyun made you nervous. It’s been two years but he can still make you feel like he's sucking the air out of your lungs.

“uh- Y/N? are you okay?” His voice cut through your thoughts.

You snapped your head towards him.

“o-ofcourse I'm fine” you stuttered

You almost want to smack yourself right then and there for stuttering without any reason.

“are you sure? You look really.. red” he asked a bit concerned.

You nodded trying to calm yourself.

“if you say so” he smiled and waved the waiter over.

***

You talked and talked about the things you've both been busy with and laughing at the stories he was telling you about his members from his band

You both left the restaurant with a smile plastered both on your faces.

He suggested on driving you back to your apartment to which you declined at first saying that your apartment was not that far from where you two are, but still he insists it was already dark and dangerous to walk on streets at this time.

Silence enveloped the whole car ride, only the soft music from the radio was heard and the casual humming of Kihyun together with the song.

A few turns later the car stopped infront of your apartment.

“it was nice meeting you again Y/N” he stared at you.

You nodded in agreement “i had a great time” you replied.

“honestly, I missed this” he muttered looking straight ahead.

You looked at him trying to read his expression.

“me too” you replied without having second thoughts.

“but, I missed you more than this” he said landing his gaze on you.

Your heart momentarily stopped at his words, he was looking intensely at you.

“i-uh” you almost couldn’t form the right words to give him but you settled to what you think is the best word to express what you’re feeling.

“i never stopped missing you, and honestly I never really stopped loving you either” you mumbled fiddling with your fingers.

You expected him to stiffen at your words but, he just smiled.

“i’m glad we're on the same page” he uttered.

You can feel the butterflies in your stomach going wild at both of your confession.

You smiled looking down at your hands.

“Y/N”

You looked up when you heard him mumble your name.

He cupped your cheeks staring straight into your eyes and leaned in kissing you softly on the lips.

Your eyes went wide for a second not expecting such move from him before you kissed him back.

You felt him smile into the kiss before he pulled away and leaned his forehead with yours.

You giggled before completely pulling back.

“it’s already late, you should go now” you smiled at him while you unbuckled your seatbelt.

You were about to open the door to the passenger when he suddenly stopped you.

“wait, I have a question” he said

“what is it?”

“can.. you be my girlfriend...? Again?” he asked waiting patiently for your response.

“i think it was already settled when you kissed me” you smiled at him.

“so it’s a yes?”

You nodded. He nodded and you both nodded.

He grinned widely and gave you one last hug and a kiss on the forehead before letting you out of the car.

You stepped out of the car and turned back to knock on his window.

He rolled down the window and you ducked down.

“be careful when driving” you told him.

He smiled at you “i will, for you”

You bit back a smile and watch him drive off till he was out of your sight.

You ran towards your apartment.

You closed the door leaning on it while putting your hand on your heart and squealed loudly feeling like a school girl.

Moments later you received a text message.

Kihyun❤️: Goodnight Princess.

You threw your phone on your bed and buried your head in your pillow then screamed loud while kicking wildly in the air.

[qqueenofhades]

No, Ivan chides himself. Don’t be ridiculous. Fedya already hated the lighthouse; you think he would ever want to spend the rest of his existence trapped in the frozen wastes of nowhere? You still don’t even know which country this is. He wants a city and the comforts that he’s used to, you would have to give him that. Besides, when you get to civilization and he’s not utterly dependent on you to keep him alive, he will say thank you, give you a handshake, and vanish into the crowd. He said that he would kill anyone who hurt you – but would he? Would he? You are too old, Ivan Ivanovich. Too grumpy, too used, too tired. He couldn’t. He deserves better, and as soon as he has literally anyone else to compare you to, he will see that at once.

we need to talk about this passage from ch. 12 of lighthouse au. for many reasons. one of which is the fact that if fedyor knew ivan was thinking this, he’d probably pull out his own hair and eat it. And while i dont see fedyor as someone who particularly craves solitude in the way ivan does — lol obviously the fete scene — Fedyor does have this other layer in lighthouse au where he just seems so exhausted. and we kinda talk about this with ivan (or we at least joke about it lol), but fedyor is so emotionally and physically exhausted — not just from the past few days, but for years. and now he’s finally met this man who loves to listen to his voice and his thoughts and who makes him feel so safe and loved for who he is and i think fedyor would love nothing more than to just be left the fuck alone with Ivan.

I dont think Fedyor would necessarily love being in that much solitude forever (lol and his thoughts on surviving in nature in ch.13 are iconic), but if he could be assured that Ivan and him get to be safe, left alone, and finally get to just be together and enjoy their little domestic bubble where they can spend the nights laughing and loving each other — yea, Fedyor would pick that a thousand times over.

and of course. ivan. ivanovich. that motherfucker. doesnt realize this.

Lmao, well, we can all agree that literally EVERYTHING Ivan thought in that entire passage was wrong, bless his dumbass heart. (To his credit, he did kinda realize it was bad brain voice talking and try to shut it up, but still.) You're absolutely right that lighthouse Fedyor is deeply, deeply exhausted from having to survive in the 1970s/80s USSR as a gay left-wing academic, when none of those things are welcome, supported, or allowed to be visible. He's been living a double life even more than most Soviet citizens, he comes from a respectable family with good connections so he's had a little leeway before, but now he doesn't, and it's just... exhausting. He's spent five years trying to think how the hell he's going to get out of here, he trashed it for Ivan (which he doesn't regret, but it has indisputably gotten them into a lot of trouble) and now he's stuck on a horrible wilderness adventure all on his lonesome. Poor man. He would LOVE some time to just be alone with Ivan and to feel safe and to recuperate from all their misadventures. Not forever, but... a while.

But yes, alas, Ivan Ivanovich That Motherfucker does not realize this, and is still mostly convinced that as soon as they get to civilization and Fedyor doesn't need him any more, he will cut his losses and get out of there. Now they're separated, and don't know where the other is or what they're doing, and You Know Who has made his dramatic garbage ho arrival on Ivan's end. So. Welp.

[scarletbluebird13]

Hidden Secrets Beneath a Bewitching Moon

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Title: Kissed by the Baddest Bidder

Pairing: Eisuke x MC 

Tags: Fluff, drabble 

Word count: 1331 

A/N: I wrote this my sophomore year for an assignment - I had Eisuke in mind and well, this happened :3 I thought I’d share it here, since I was aiming to have Eisuke and MC here. Welp. Hope you enjoy! 

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            I was roused from my much needed sleep, when I attempted to drape an arm around the woman who means more to me than anything my money could buy. However, when I did not feel her warm body beside mine, my eyes gradually opened. A typical exhausted person would have instantly felt phlegmatic, having slept only three hours thus far, and probably would have gone back to sleep. Not me. No, instead my usual choleric self was awake. I rubbed my temples, and let out an aggravated sigh. She knows she’s not supposed to leave the bed without my permission. Was instantly my first thought. Any other woman in the world would have been annoyed with me, seeing as how apparently the rest of the guys would describe me as “despotic,” but not her. That’s what separates her from most women. Most women would either fear me or try to flatter me. But she treats me just like the other four guys. Sometimes even worse. She is not afraid to put me in my place whenever she deems it necessary. That was just one way in how she differed from most women. It might just be the most cliché thing in the world to say, but I think that was what drew me to her in the first place, what caused her to be the object of my affection. Though most of the time, she is so gullible, I find myself telling her some of the most absurd things I would never do, just to see her amusing expressions. But I guess the reason she’s gullible is because she’s so honest and trusting - even when she attempts to lie, I always see right through her. Now that I think about it, it’s probably these aspects of her that make her pure. In fact, she’s so pure and innocent, I often find myself trying to keep her away from those four idiots. I swear, all they ever do is gather up all their guile, plaster it on their faces, use it to taint their voices, and inject nonsense into her mind. Eventually, after she usually falls for whatever nonsense they’ve created, she follows through with their ridiculous plans. It is not only her that falls prey to their stupid ideas, she gets into so much trouble, I have to save her every time they send her to do something crazy. What’s worse: they fill her head with nonsense for their amusement, or to kill time. Seriously. They need something better to do with their free time. Although, they would never make her do something so stupid, it would be life threatening. I’d have their heads if they ever harm her. And they know it. However, at the end of every idiotic plan they hatch, she always faces me with a look of extreme guilt on her face, it kills me every time. The way her gaze falls to the floor, how her head drops, her hands go limp, the crack in her voice when she tries to explain herself… It always kills me. So, I have to exonerate her conscience so she could feel better. In the end, it’s the other four idiots who feel my smouldering gaze, and receive my wrath anyway.

            If I’ve had time to think of all that, and she’s still not back, that means she’s probably off doing something those idiots convinced her to do. Hmm. She could also be thinking about something in another room, or she could be working on something… I found myself sighing deeply once more before I stood up, having decided to bring her back to bed. I looked out the vast window in the bedroom, only to see that the dark curtain of night is still down over the glittering city lights below. The moon, however, looks somewhat more bewitching tonight than any other night. I sighed once more before I shook my head, attempting to rid myself of such ridiculous thoughts, and I instead turned my focus to the door which led out into the living room. I opened the door slowly, trying not to startle her - should she even be in the living room, that is. And in fact, there she was. She was sitting on the edge of the sofa, eyes fixated out the immense window before her. She hadn’t noticed me opening the door, so perhaps she was concerned about something. Yes, that must be it. Not only had I noticed that she was concerned about something, but I also took note of the melancholy atmosphere about her. The expression she wore on her beautiful face was a combination of both concentration and that of sadness. Since I had begun leaning against the threshold of the door, she let out her second sigh. Something’s wrong. Immediately, my body began to move closer to her as my mind began to race about what she could be unhappy about. It was when I had begun to move closer to her that she suddenly jolted. Hmm. Perhaps she was able to see me through her peripheral vision, and my sudden movement interrupted her thoughts. She turned to face me, and with a trembling voice that was laced with pain, she whispered “Oh, hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were up.” Hearing the trembling pain in her hushed whisper caused me to feel a heart wrenching pain. No one wants to see the person they love suffering. Her eyes met mine momentarily before they dropped to the marble floor. Her eyes were dim, they did not shine - unlike all the other times she looked at me. She was letting out pained sighs, she looked weak, lifeless… she looked nothing like her usual sanguine self. I immediately went to sit down next to her, I draped an arm over her shoulder, and used my free hand to gently tilt her face up so she could look into the eyes of the man who loves her more than anything in this otherwise dull, unforgiving world. I then coaxed her into telling me what was wrong. As it seems, a co-worker who had been causing trouble for her since she started working here, stopped causing trouble for her when I made it clear to her to stop harassing my - at the time - girlfriend. However, since announcing our engagement, her bitter, trite remarks have returned. Having heard this, and seeing the defeated look on her face, something inside of me snapped. No one makes my woman feel like this. Obviously, that co-worker is the most idiotic person to walk along this planet, if she thinks she can talk to my fiancée that way and get away with it. I scowled as I clicked my tongue and made a mental note to have a long discussion with that woman, considering I was her boss, she would have no problem following orders. And if she does, well… she will have a very hard time finding another job for as long as she lives, and I will make sure of it. Speaking of following orders… I kissed her temple, and assured her not to worry about it, that everything will be taken care of first thing in the morning. I then reminded her that she was not to leave the bed without my permission. Her face turned a deep crimson before she mumbled “I’m sorry,” which resulted in her face going back to its normal, bright, happy self as I smirked at her, and led her back to bed.

                                         That happened last week.

            Since that next morning, the dreaded co-worker has not since been so hostile with my fiancée. On the contrary, I made sure that she treated my gorgeous woman with the utmost respect she deserves. No one makes my woman feel less than what she is. That is a line no one dares to cross. …Unless they don’t value their life, that is. In which case, I cannot be held responsible for what happens to them.