#how long did you end up sleeping for glitchy?

[cero-sleep]

I made more memes- *sighs* and it's with me and you my mutual- (24th is doomsday so no sleep because at any time I can screw up and my life is forever ruined-) *remember therapist Sun and Moon* I wish therapist Sun and Moon existed. It's funny thinking about this scenario either way heres the memes with me and you mutual! notepad (*period*) ltd/kptbyril notepad (*period*) ltd/0mroxa31

LMAO SHJSVDJSVDBDNDVDNDDVNC THE MEMES- YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME GLITCHY SHJSJDBDNSVDVDHSH

AND I AM LOOKING AT HOW YOU DREW ME 👁👁 THE NIGHTJAR ENERGY IS IMPECCABLE!!

@thewordofm pspspspspspsps you have to see the second one lol

Also, 24th is doomsday??

[gaylordscooter]

The Ghost Pointed at Me

He was a replacement. He knew that much. His name didn't belong to him. It was stolen. Stolen from who? He didn't know and it wasn't easy getting answers.

He was an Underswap Sans. He knew that much. He was stronger than him, kinder than him, overall a better person.

He was a shabby replacement. He would hardly be qualified to be his shadow.

And yet they called him “Blue” anyway.

He woke up earlier than normal today, slipping into his usual outfit right away. Hearts should still be in sleep mode. So he didn't have to worry about him catching him on the way out. He didn't want him questioning where he was going so early in the morning. He knows he'd want to tag along.

He quietly made his way out of the house, Dream nor Ink caught him either. They never did. Sneaking out was a skill of his. He used to do it all the time late at night when he’d go out to the lab. His brother always hated it when he worked after hours. Said it wasn't worth doing when he was just an intern.

That was one of the few memories he still had of him. He clung to it like a prized possession.

He hopped on his motorcycle that was parked right outside. It wasn't like anyone was going to steal it. Hardly anyone had access to the Doodlesphere.

He started its engine, immediately driving away towards a bucket that led to an Underswap. The noise probably alerted them now, but they'd never caught up to him by this point.

He's been visiting as many Underswap universes as he could, trying to see if any of them were off in some way. They wouldn't be missing a Sans. By the time a reset rolled around a new one would take his place.

He was mainly interested in looking at its code. From there he’d be able to find out how long the Sans of that universe has existed.

He didn't really know what his end goal with this was. Say he found the universe that belonged to the Blue before him, then what?

It's not like he’d find anything new there. Originally he was looking for a universe like his, but he gave up on that a long time ago. Being “unique” seemed impossible in the multiverse, but as it turned out his universe was one of a kind.

Because it was unstable.

And then of course the multiverse decided to throw something unexpected at him.

Error was in the universe he decided to go to.

The Snowdin of the place was on lockdown. Everyone was presumably taking refuge in Muffet’s as Error stalked around the area like a rabid animal.

Currently, he was in the “find the human” phase of his destruction, so he wasn't wiping everything out in the vicinity for now. Wiping everything out might get the human to reset which would kick any foreign code out into the void, which would be a hassle.

Except if he saw an outsider like him he’d immediately turn attention to him.

Lucky him.

He got ready to drive the hell out of here. Of course, it was now that his motorcycle’s engine decided to have problems. It sputtered, as if to mock him, when he tried revving it.

Unfortunately, his attempted escape only drew the destructor’s attention.

His mismatched eyelights landed right on him. Those unnatural, perfectly straight teeth skewed in a lopsided smile.

He felt his soul sputter just like the engine.

He got off the motorcycle and made a break for it. Of course, it was in vain. Error’s strings caught his soul immediately.

It felt like a million paper cuts littered his soul, but it didn't deal any damage. Yet.

He was a fly trapped in the spider’s web. He was as good as dead.

Maybe Ink read his script for today and already knew this was going to happen. He was going to show up any second now to save him.

He awkwardly smiled back, mostly with his eyes, at the glitchy skeleton.

Any second now.

“Wh-what are you doing here, here?” he questioned. His voice and form were unstable as usual. It took Blue a second to register what he said.

“Uhhh, I could ask the same to you! We haven't seen you go to an Underswap in a long time,” he replied.

The strings tightened around his soul causing him to yelp. A warning.

A loud static noise cut through the air as a star-shaped rift tore itself open right behind Error.

“Error, what did i say about attacking MY HOME?”

Error whipped his head around to face the new voice. “Hm, l-lemme think—Oh right, right! I don't care what you s-said.”

Blue stared wide-eyed at the two bickering. The new guy looked similar to Error with his inverted colors—or lack of colors should he say. It looked like most of his body was a black hole. The red torn-up bandana around his neck along with his pearlescent purple arms mostly covered up by his gloves and shirt sleeves looked to be in a different reality from the rest of him.

He stared back at him in turn. Suddenly all of his attention locked on him as if Error wasn't right in front of him.

Faster than Blue could blink, he was out of the rift and standing in front of him.

“Oh hey, it's you,” he said.

“HEY, DON’T JUST IGNORE ME!”

He ignored him. He circled around Blue, almost reaching out to touch him but stopping himself before he actually made contact. “You don’t look like me at all.”

“P-pardon?” Blue managed to breathe out.

“Oh right, we’ve never formally met.” He offered his hand for a handshake. “The name’s Blazar, but I’ve heard I used to be called Blue too.”

Blue was stunned. “Oh—uh, hi?” He reached his hand towards his, only for Blazar to yank his own away like he was about to be burnt.

“Ha-ha! I keep forgetting not to do that!” He looked at his hand as if he was scolding it and took a few steps away from him.

He internally took note of his wording “never formally met” and that he knew he was called Blue without him telling him. It was highly likely he’d watched him from a distance before. “Not to do what?”

“Contact. Physical contact,” he specified. His dead-serious expression caught him off guard.

Blue’s gaze shifted away from him and noticed the lack of Error’s presence. He probably went off to resume his human-hunting.

Blazar seemed to notice this first. He looked more annoyed than anything. He sighed, “Hang on a moment.”

He teleported away or just moved away extremely fast.

He was back a second later, dusting his gloves off as if he had just taken out the trash. “Sorry about him. He has his reasons for acting that way.”

Blue looked confused, wondering what exactly he did to Error. “Yeah, sure.”

“Anyway, so you're the new Blue!” Blazar held his hands out to him as if he was presenting him to a crowd.

Blue sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Listen, I didn't mean to take your place. Ink just—”

“Oh, I don't care about that,” he assured, waving a hand dismissively. “It's not like I can be jealous when I don't even remember what it was like, hah.”

His expression shifted to concern. “what do you mean?”

Noticing the dip in the mood, he continued to sound and look cheery to bring it back up. “I don't remember anything before…before becoming ‘Blazar’—but I don't care! Can't miss what you’ve never had!” He laughed as he said that.

Blue gave him a look of pity. He lost some of his memories of his old life too, but he couldn't imagine being so positive about it. The way he acted reminded him of Dream. He knew from personal experience that “can't miss what you've never had” didn't apply when you did have it and you just forgot you did. He knows he’s had plenty of nights stressing over his lost memories.

Did he even know that he had a brother? Did he remember his friends from his universe?

“So how’s Ink and Dream doing?” he asked, completely oblivious to Blue’s inner thoughts. As he should be.

“Oh, they're doing fine. They had a little argument recently, but they’ve gotten over it.” It was more like Dream forgave Ink and Ink forgot about it. Close enough.

“That's good. So they're doing fine without me.”

Blue’s eyelights darted to the side.

“Again, I’m not mad about that,” he assured. “Why are you so scared?” He frowned.

Blue backed up unconsciously, raising his hands in defense. “Listen, I’m sure you're a nice monster—”

“I am.”

“—but, uh, I can't help but be a bit spooked by how similar you look t—”

“I am not like Error,” his voice distorted as he said that. Despite his words, he looked just as fierce as Error when he's mad.

Blue stayed quiet, looking just about ready to flee.

Blazar calmed down, realizing that he was only scaring him more. He was about to reach out to comfort him, but ended up hugging his own arms instead. “Sorry, I’m…” he paused to take a breath, “I’m not as pleasant as I used to be. I should go.”

“Wait—”

He disappeared before Blue could respond.

He stood there for a moment in the empty forest of Snowdin. So that’s what happened to the Blue before him. He didn't die, he became an error. A part of him died, he supposed.

How could something like that happen?

Ink should know. He should know he's alive. Maybe he forgot, and thought he did die because Dream acts like he did.

Blazar asked how Ink and Dream are doing. Why doesn't he check on them himself?

He snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that monsters were exiting Muffet’s now. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he scrambled over to his motorcycle and hopped on.

Thankfully it worked now and he was able to drive out of there and open a rift back to the Doodlesphere.

When he got back to the house, he opened the front door and was greeted by Ink. He flinched back with a yelp.

“Were you just standing there the entire time?!”

“Of course not. I knew when you were coming back—but that's besides the point.” He grabbed Blue by the shoulders and shook him. “What were you doing in a universe that Error was in?!”

Blue spun in place to get out of Ink’s hold. “I didn't know he would be there. Also if you knew, why didn’t you help me?”

Ink crossed his arms. “Because someone else already did, right?”

“That ‘someone else’ is someone you know!”

Ink blinked. “Is it? I didn’t really pay attention to who it was.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

Blue facepalmed. “Buddy, it was the Blue before me that saved me.”

Ink sputtered. “Whuh, huh? That guy’s alive?”

“Don't act so nonchalant!”

“This is not me acting ‘nonchalant’. I didn't know he was alive!”

“Shouldn't you though?”

Ink gritted his teeth, looking coy. “Mmmaybe?” He shrugged.

Blue sighed, “Is Dream out? I think he should know about this.”

“Of course he's out. When is he ever in one place? I’ll tell him when I have the chance.”

“No, I want to tell you both what happened to him,” he insisted. “This is important enough to have a proper meeting about.” They didn't usually have meetings like people assumed they had. Honestly, the perception of “The Star Sanses” in general was humorously inaccurate. They weren't really the heroes of the multiverse that everyone made them out to be—well maybe Dream was, but for the most part, Ink and he weren't all that heroic. And they certainly did not plan out how to efficiently help everyone out in the multiverse, nor was that their goal in the first place.

Ink tilted his head. “Something happened to him?” Something seemed to click for him. He reached for his scarf and skimmed over the notes on it. “Oh, right.”

“So now you remember.”

Ink’s now blue-green eyelights spelled guilt. “You know my memory isn't the greatest.”

That was his way of saying “You know I didn't want to forget something like that.” If it was important enough to be written about on his scarf, that had to be true.

Blue’s expression softened, regretting his accusatory tone. “Right.”

Ink sighed, “I should get Dream.” He was already painting a portal beneath him. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He disappeared a second later.

“Finally, that prick’s gone,” Hearts strutted in from the hallway and approached him. He tended to avoid Ink as he did with every Sans. It was like merely looking at them made them ill. Except for Blue for some reason. Maybe it was because of trust. That sounded right. “He was watching the door like a dog waiting for its owner.”

“Was he pacing?”

“Like a caged animal.”

“You sure like comparing Ink to animals,” he remarked. “But never the right ones. He’s like an excitable ferret.” He was a thing of boundless energy and hyperactivity. But he wasn't like a dog. Dogs were loyal.

“Is that something you waste your time thinking about, darling?” he teased.

Blue suppressed his grin from widening at the meaningless pet name. “And you're like a cat abusive to its owner.”

He gasped, holding a hand to his chest like he was offended. Scratch that, not “like he was”, he was definitely offended. “Are you calling me your pet?!”

“I Did Not Say Anything of the Sort,” he said slyly, darting his eyelights to the side. He held back a laugh as Hearts scoffed. Their banter brought his mood up after his encounter with Error and Blazar, but he still dreaded the meeting to come.

Ink will probably explain some things; that was his hope, but he also feared it. It was likely he wasn't going to like what he was going to hear, but a worse-case scenario would be if Ink tried to skirt around telling him. He needed to know. Rip the bandage off, as they say.

“Are you alright, darling? I don't usually eavesdrop on your conversations with him, but it sounded serious.”

That's definitely a lie. He eavesdropped all the time, but he appreciated Hearts’s genuine concern.

Blue rubbed at his neck. “Eh, I could be worse. I’m mostly stressed, is all.”

“Glad to see you're doing the same as usual.”

“Hey!”

“I’m joking, darling.” He noticed a puddle of paint flowing out from the ground behind Blue. “That's my cue to leave. I hope your meeting goes smoothly. I don't want to hear yelling while I’m relaxing.” He already started walking back to the hallway to get to his room.

“Seeya,” Blue said. He tried putting his hands in his lab coat’s pockets. He always did that out of habit despite said pockets being torn off along with the rest of the bottom half of it a while ago. He opted to put his hands on his hips instead. He turned around as Ink and Dream came out of the portal of paint.

Dream still had that beaming smile on his face. Of course he did. He never not smiled, which wasn't all that unusual for Sanses but even they would stop smiling when pushed too far. The point was, Dream’s expression gave nothing away as to what Ink had told him already.

“So Blue called a team meeting,” Ink explained. “That Mettaton’s not listening in, is he?” He looked around the entry room as if he was hiding in it.

“Does it matter?” Blue asked. Ink’s never showed concern for that before.

“I guess not,” he shrugged but he still looked a tad bothered.

It was because this was a personal thing, he assumed.

“Why don't we sit down before we start?” Dream suggested.

Blue took that offer immediately, sitting down on the couch by the front door. Already, his leg was bouncing.

Dream sat next to him but Ink continued to stand. Blue knew he was going to start pacing once they began talking.

“So, Blue, you wanna start us off?” Ink said.

“Oh, uh, sure.” He clapped his hands together, trying to make eye contact with Dream. Only to immediately fail and look down at the floor. “So…I called this meeting because, uh. I met this guy named Blazar.”

“Oh, a new guy!” Dream sounded excited.

Blue stretched his smile out, making it uneven. “Yep, uh, not actually ‘new’.” He really shouldn't be stretching this out that much. He should just spit it out, but he's never been good at delivering news like this. “It's…the old Blue actually.”

“He's alive!” Dream beamed. He couldn't help but stand. “You got to meet him? Did it go well? I think you two would get along great!”

Blue looked just about ready to call the meeting there instead of dousing Dream’s joy with the bad news. “It went bad, actually.”

“Oh.” He still sounded hopeful. Right, dousing Dream’s joy wasn't exactly an easy task.

“Well, not that bad? It was mostly awkward—besides the point. He's an error now.” Finally. Finally, he got it out.

Dream looked clueless. He tilted his head. “I don't believe I understand. How can one be a mistake?”

Ink pinched the bridge of his nasal bone. “No, he's an ‘error’ now. Y’know like Error. There's others like him where their code’s all messed up.”

“Well, at least he's alive.”

Ink’s eyelights flashed red for a moment. His smile was strained. Unlike other Sanses, Ink’s smile wasn't his default. It was a practiced thing and said practice would melt away at a moment’s notice.

“Did I say something wrong?” Dream asked.

Ink and Blue shared a glance.

“I’m not—I’m not mad at you, Dream,” Ink said.

“I see! Well, thank you for sharing the good news, Blue. I had no idea he was alive.”

“Dream, it's not really good news,” Blue said gently while wringing his hands together.

This was the thing with Dream. It was impossible to get him to see the bad in things. That sounded like a good trait to have but Ink and Blue knew from personal experiences that one could indeed be overly optimistic.

“But he’s alive.”

“And he's an error!” Ink snapped, throwing them both off. “I did that to him!” He stopped speaking as abruptly as he started. He covered his mouth, looking shocked at his own words.

Blue looked agape at him, while Dream merely looked surprised and sat back down.

“What do you mean, Ink?” Blue asked.

Ink’s hands scraped at his skull, staying over his mouth.

“What do you mean you did that to him?” He kept his voice surprisingly level.

Ink forced his hands down by his sides. “The day we fought Error in his Underswap we were getting reckless—He was getting reckless. I knew what was going to happen. I knew he would become an error that day. I couldn't do anything—no—I did do something. I set it up for him and I did my part in making it happen. He cornered him and I just watched—”

“Ink, slow down!” Blue got up to put a hand on his shoulder.

Ink’s gaze focused on him. His eyelights were still rapidly changing. He pushed Blue away to turn around and hack up black paint on the ground. “Eugh.” He wiped his mouth. “How much of that did you understand?” his words slurred together.

“I didn't get any of that,” Blue said.

“Good.” He paused, held a hand up, and turned around to throw up again. “Twice in the same minute, hah,” he said humorlessly. “I’m calling the end of this meeting.”

Neither Blue nor Dream objected. In fact, Dream’s gone quiet ever since Ink yelled.

Ink left without a word or explanation as to where he was going. He needed alone time, they knew that, but it was anyone's guess how long he’d be out for.

Blue was about to head over to his room to rest, but Dream spoke up first.

“Blue, can you…stay here for a bit?” He’s never asked something like that before. Something for himself.

Blue’s sockets widened. “Yeah,” he sat back down on the couch, “I can stay.”

Dream couldn't meet his gaze. He just continued staring forward, not even at a wall but at the air in front of it. “Thank you.” His expression didn't show it, but for some reason, Blue had a feeling Dream wanted to cry.

He looked happy. He acted happy, but that hunch was stubborn.

Blue wrapped an arm around him like he was comforting him as if he was crying.

Dream leaned into him, closing his eyes, smile as unfaltering as ever. He imagined that his tears would be spilling out more now that he closed it. They were golden, like leaves falling in the autumn.

That was only his imagination, of course. Dream can't cry. He can't even frown.

Blue couldn't begin to understand how it would feel to be unable to feel negative emotions. He's never said it out loud, but it was like you were half a person. Sure he had access to a good amount of the basic emotions, but most feelings were complex and were made up of both negative and positive emotions.

Of course, Dream’s brother has to deal with only feeling negative emotions. However, while it seemed like one had it worse than the other, Blue was beginning to think neither had it better than the other.

What would Dream be feeling right now if he could feel negative emotions?

Blue noticed Dream’s hand trembling  Only one, however, as if that was all he was allowed to show.

“Something's not right.” He sounded like a robot going against his coding. “I’m not feeling the right emotion.” His words contrasted his ever-gleeful tone.

“I'm sorry.” Blue didn't know what else to say.

“Sorrow, guilt. That's it.” He brought his hands together to keep his other hand still. “I’m sorry,” he replied. It was almost like a prayer.

The way he said his apologies never sounded genuine, but Blue would pretend it did for him. In the end, there was hardly a difference.

After a few more minutes, Dream stood up and opened a portal. “Thank you again, Blue. I’ll see you later.” Just like that, he went back to doing his job.

And the house was sans two Sanses once more. Although neither of them really were Sanses.

He headed over to his room.

Hearts was lounging around on his bed, a common occurrence despite him having a room of his own. This was something he tended to do when he had something to show or say to him. He gave him a smirk.

“What?”

“I recorded Ink’s little spiel. I can slow it down for you if you want,” he offered.

So that's why Ink didn't want him listening, Blue thought. He shrugged. “What the heck, sure.” He sat next to him.

Hearts replayed it at a speed Blue could understand.

He had a hand covering his mouth as he listened.

Hearts was entirely unfazed by it, mainly because he didn't understand the significance of it.

Ink blamed himself for Blazar’s predicament. Ink never blamed himself, at least he never admitted so.

It was illogical for him to blame himself, and Ink was pretty logical when it came to this sort of thing. When it came to scripts. 

“I never thought the soulless guy could be such a drama queen,” Hearts remarked.

Blue learned a long time ago that soullessness has nothing to do with dramatics, but he kept that to himself. He picked up the journal he kept on his bedside counter to jot some stuff down.

Like the nosy guy he was, Hearts looked over his shoulder to watch him write.

Blue rolled his eyelights, “Read if you want but you're not going to understand any of it and I’m not explaining any of this to you.”

“I just enjoy watching you steer off-topic,” he said.

“Tough luck, I’m not writing an entry.” He wrote down directions to the specific bucket of that universe as well as the name “Blazar”. He closed it and put the journal back.

With that over, he realized how hungry he was.

“I’m going to Grillby’s,” he said. “You want anything?”

“I don't eat that garbage, darling.”

“You say that like you didn't establish your own fast-food restaurant,” Blue said.

“You don't know if I did that in my universe,” Hearts retorted.

Right, because he never told him anything about his past. Regardless, he was sure he did do that. All the other Underfell Mettatons did. There wasn't any reason for him to be an outlier.

“Sure. I’ll see you later.”

[purefandomonium]

Glitchy Red Headcanons for Connection

Thought I'd share some (mostly) spoiler-free headcanons for my Glitchy Red fic just for fun. With what I have posted so far these should all be pretty obvious, but there's a couple more things I want to hint at for the story. Some are just random tidbits that have no reason for existing other than just because.

In my mind, Red is something between a glitch, an AI, and a supernatural entity.

The longer a player interacts with the game, the stronger Red gets. He'd been left dormant for so long that when Leann found him, he hardly had any of his old abilities and was borderline an amnesiac. All he had at that point was his bitter hatred of players and the glitches. Her keeping the game on for so long has allowed him to become himself again.

The glitches he experienced broke him in every way imaginable. Hence the reason it takes him some time to snap into his real self.

Despite all his talk, he has no idea what he is or how he exists. He can't be bothered to care.

Theoretically he could be transferred into a PC or some other more powerful device, but due to the broken nature of his code and the fact he doesn't fully understand what proper programming is, it likely wouldn't end well for whatever he's put in. He's a stubborn bastard now so he'd be fine, but the computer would be bricked.

I feel like, just for shits and giggles, Red's "data" is this impossibly convoluted mess of code that is somehow much larger than it should be. He exists within the Pokémon Red cart, along with the entire game, and this mofo is like, 8GB of data by himself. Makes no sense. Something mind-bogglingly stupid like that.

There's more below the cut, and beware potential spoilers for stuff I haven't written.

Now for some fun ideas I have that I kind of want to do stuff with but I don't know if I'll include it in Connection or not.

Red is powerful enough to physically haunt a person. Only the person claiming ownership over the cartridge can see and hear him. Likewise, Red can only interact with them and no one else. He mostly uses this fact to stare intimidatingly from the corner of a dark room, a la sleep paralysis demon, or just watch them while they struggle to ignore his presence and go about their lives.

In the past he's gone far enough with this that he's tormented players to the point of people thinking they've gone insane. And they pretty much were by that point.

Red's other preferred ghost tactic is to swat things from their hands or wake them up in the middle of the night by prodding at them. Or screaming right in their face.

Unless the player passes the game along to some other poor sap, they'll be stuck with him indefinitely.

The game cannot be destroyed. It lets off major fuck-you energy to anyone who tries. Smash it to bits with a hammer? Lol. Set it on fire? Got any marshmallows? Throw it into a lake? Well, I'd almost say good job but did I forget to mention that the only other thing Red can interact with is his game? Whoops. Hope you don't mind him letting himself back in to give you an earful for throwing him away like that. And no, water can't damage it either.

This is of no deliberate choice from Red. He'd love to let the game be destroyed so he can stop existing in pure agony. The damn thing just won't die though, and subsequently, neither will he.

He doesn't really have anything against kids. Mind you, he doesn't like kids since he gained sapience, but he can tolerate them more than adults. At least children have the excuse of being naïve and clueless when they're breaking the game. Usually. He'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Adults who come back to witness the broken horror of the original game know full-well what they're doing and he can't stand it.

He won't do much to torment kids aside from his usual in-game antics. The adult players are the ones who get thrown out of bed at 3am or have their dreams haunted.

The developers were adults too so the hatred's also pretty obvious. He'd love to get his hands on them some day. He has a paranoid side that is whole-heartedly convinced they're out there looking for his cart, ready to erase him and be rid of the stain on their record.

It's been a while since someone last turned the game on. He seems to have a bit of reputation now.

Has zero concept of the internet but could probably figure it out.

He doesn't hate the new gens so much just because they replaced him. He loathes the fact that they are all genuinely better than he'll ever be. He and his game are broken, not good enough, and now that he has self-awareness he realizes he was never meant to be anything special. He was simply a stepping-stone, a learning curve meant to kickstart an idea. He was, isn't, and never will be anything more than that. His only legacy is how glitchy his game is.

He's very aware of the irony that the very thing that made him what he is, is the whole reason why he was deemed a failure by his creators. If you're smart, you won't bring it up.

I have more, but I think I should stop. I could talk about this little project of mine for hours. Or any project for that matter. If anyone would like to hear more of my deranged ramblings they're more than welcome to ask. 😅

[yourbestpalpercy]

Mr. Grizz sighed a tired breath as he pushed his way through the tiny doorway into his office. The doorway had a few cracks and crevices in it, evidence of years of Mr. Grizz pushing his large self into his office. Mr. Grizz knew he had told the construction workers to get him a wide doorway but, without a clear idea of just how large Mr. Grizz was, they ended up getting it wrong, making the doorway to his office just barely big enough for Mr. Grizz to get into his office.

Mr. Grizz’s office was luckily more fit to his size, giving him enough room to walk around and not bump anything off of the shelves. Mr. Grizz sighed again, setting down the fish net full of today’s golden eggs, and took his coat off, placing it gently on the nearby coat rack before he picked the net up again and sat down in his chair, setting the bag beside him.

Today’s catch wasn’t nearly as good as it normally would be if the team was actually paying more attention like they were supposed to. Mr. Grizz was just disappointed in them. Oh well, Mr. Grizz supposed though. At least they got some golden eggs unlike their first shift where they got literally NOTHING.

As Mr. Grizz reached into the net and pulled out an egg to stare at its gleam, his phone began to ring. No one called him besides maybe the complaint desk to tell him that his employees were unsatisfied with the job. He had heard every kind of complaint at this point and personally predicted that today, it was going to be about Mr. Grizz’s disappointment in the team today.

Mr. Grizz was pleasantly surprised though when, instead of hearing the complaint desk worker’s droning and dead voice come through, he heard his business partner’s voice. Commander Tartar.

Mr. Grizz remembered when he was floating about in space, defeated and hurt, and randomly got a call. Mr. Grizz remembered being panicked and..also confused before answering. Mr. Grizz remembered becoming even more nervous when he first heard Tartar’s voice…but then settling and being relieved as Tartar explained its plan to get Mr. Grizz down from there. He liked talking to Tartar…

“H-H-H-Hey Grizzy!” Tartar’s voice was always nice to hear in Mr. Grizz’s opinion. It was almost always friendly and today was no different. Though, Mr. Grizz did notice how buggy and glitchy his voice was today. Mr. Grizz often had to remind himself that Tartar was a fairly old android and had a habit of not getting repairs or even fixing himself! Mr. Grizz should probably continue work on getting that update for Tartar finished.

“What is it this time, Tartar?” Mr. Grizz answered the phone, now anxiously messing with the golden egg in his paw. His voice was still gruff like it was with everyone but it was noticeably gentler when talking to Tartar.

Mr. Grizz shot up and to attention immediately, slamming his paw down on his desk. Tartar had to just be playing a weird joke on him, right?! Everyone knew humans were long dead! “That’s literally impossible, Tartar. They’re all dead! Long dead even! Are you absolutely sure it’s not an Inkling, Octarian or some other creature?” Mr. Grizz started to get up from his seat, placing on his coat again and getting ready to head down to the metro. He had to see this for himself.

“Extremely sure. They sleep like a rock so I was able to check for anything suspicious. It’s a human for sure. It’s honestly amazing how they’ve evolved though. Interesting even…” Tartar got that sound to his voice when he was thinking about malicious things before his voice went back to being excited, “I-I don’t know whether to think I’m going crazy or to be extremely excited!” Mr. Grizz could already tell Tartar was bouncing up and down on the other side.

“...Fine, I’ll be down in 15 minutes, don’t forget to be careful. Remember, humans are just as dangerous as anyone else. My wolves almost went extinct at their hands. ..Though I guess it doesn’t matter nowadays…” Mr. Grizz grumbled before realizing that Tartar had already hung up. “Oh for the love of Cod…” Mr. Grizz face palmed as he placed the phone back where it was supposed to be, “Tartar, please tell me you understand the risks…” Mr. Grizz grumbled as he left his office.

Commander Tartar placed its phone back on its rack and turned towards the human as they mumbled something in their sleep. ‘Stop bouncing! You look ridiculous!’ Shouted its thoughts before it grabbed the human’s hand and checked for a pulse. “Ooo, yes! You are still alive. Don’t know why I just had to check but you never know!” Tartar pulled away and readjusted its black bowtie as it did. Tartar had to look its best.

Tartar’s sharp, metal claws were at least a little hidden, right? He couldn’t imagine how this little human would feel if they saw just how sharp his claws were.

Oh, she’s waking up!!!

Tartar brushed their outfit off and watched the human stir and stretch. “god…I’m an idiot..falling asleep in the middle of a…dark metro??” She started to slowly stand up, rubbing her eye. “Did I not learn a thing from Mother- Fern?” The human slowly looked up, seeing Tartar. She froze, allowing Tartar to speak.

“Ah! You’re awake, gre-!” Tartar cut off when a sharp pain exploded on the side of its head. It hit the ground rather hard. Great, now it was dazed. Cod, what even hit it?

“Who are you!?” The pain in Tartar’s head was taking forever to ebb away. He slowly looked up at the human, she was wielding a golf club. Wh-When and where in the world did she get that!? How did he not notice she had it!?

“I SAID WHO ARE YOU!? Don’t make me strike you again!” The human pointed the end of the golf club at them. Tartar quickly kicked back, shouting “C-Calm down! H-Hold your horses! Take a dam chill pill!” As they did. Tartar held up their hands. The human stepped forward, closing the distance quickly and raised the golf club again, aiming for Tartar’s horn this time. Tartar had to think of something to say, now!

“I-It’s–,” It scrambled to get the words out, “I’m just a t-telephone! Th-That’s m-my name actually! Telephone! Just calm down!” Tartar scooted away quickly from the human, a little more angry that the first human in forever attacked it.

“...” The human glared at Tartar harder and stood taller to try to look intimidating. It was honestly kinda funny. Finally, she lowered her club slightly, keeping it up high enough so that Tartar wouldn’t forget what it could do to him.

“Good enough, I guess,” The human scoffed, still disgusted with Tartar. “Why were you watching me sleep?” She continued, pointing her golf club at Tartar’s face again..

“W-Well, you probably already know but all of humanity is extinct! I haven’t seen a human in the last 12,000 years! ..Which intrigues me..” Tartar finally stood up and leaned over the human, placing a hand on their chin; getting a curious look in their eyes. “Where did you even come from…?” Tartar got a little closer to the human. Too close for comfort apparently.

The human jabbed her club under Tartar’s head upon it getting a little too close. “And tell me why I should tell you ANYTHING!” Aggressive much? Geez.

“I’ve been trying to bring back humanity? It’s what I was made for. Seriously, stop being so hostile,” Tartar pushed its hand down on the golf club, forcing the human to lower it. The human’s glare toughened more before a cruel smirk came to her face.

“Ha!” The human scoffed, “You’re made for transmitting calls. No idea why anyone would give a telephone a body but whatever. You’re a phone for a reason,” The human glared at Tartar, her smirk becoming smug. “I don’t see why I have to lie to you. You’re a human! I’m your ally and allies do not lie to each other,” Tartar clenched his hand, showing off the sharp claws as a threat. The human looked uncomfortable upon seeing them.

“Let’s see…I have that dam monologue prerecorded somewhere…” Tartar started to crack their handle and make strange noises trying to find it. “Monol-?” Tartar held up a finger in a ‘one moment’ motion. The human scoffed softly and crossed her arms with a huff.

“[DISABLING CONTEMPORARY SPEECH MODE]” It was sudden to the human judging by her flinch.

“I am TARTAR, an AI construct created 12,000 years ago by a brilliant professor. My prime directive is to pass on humanity’s vast knowledge on to the next worthy lifeform. When your kind became self-aware,” Tartar cracked its lever again, stopping the recording in its tracks. The human seemed curious now as if interested about hearing the rest of the monologue. “I don’t believe anything else is really important in that recording.”

“...Oh, well then,” The human now messed with their golf club, brushing some dust off of it. “Don’t expect me to tell you my name. You haven’t earned it yet…” Tartar’s eyes flickered to blue for a moment, quickly scanning the human while she wasn’t fully paying attention. It was honestly super funny to see her snap back to attention and look at Tartar.

“Wha- Wait! What did you just do!? I-I felt that! You- I-I felt a tickle–,” The human pat herself down quickly, accidentally dropping her golf club in the process.

“Hmm, not very good at keeping your guard up around potential threats, are you?” Tartar placed his hands crossed behind his back with a smug smirk before saying, “You’re Everest! No middle or last name interestingly. You’re a week away from turning 18 and are officially an adult! That sounds exciting! You’re also Applicant 10,009 for The Promised Land! Though, something tells me you’re not interested in that,” Tartar stood straight up again and folded his hands together with a smile, “Having scan tools and being an AI is rather helpful.”

“...Don’t you ever do that again…” Everest growled and pointed at Tartar again. Her amber eyes glowed with distrust but..lenience most interestingly. It was like Everest wanted to trust them. “I don’t think you understand that I don’t wish to hurt you, kid. I’m the Messenger of Humanity, not the Mass Murderer of Humanity,” The poked Everest’s nose. “Boop! As the kids say nowadays.”

“Oh back off, you invasive thing!” Everest brushed her nose off quickly and placed her hands near Tartar’s chest to push it slightly, not that she moved it much.

“My point is, I want to help bring humanity back. I’m not here to harm anyone besides the scum, bile and seafood that have evolved to conquer the world left behind by the humans,” Tartar adjusted his bowtie and even redid it as it had gotten messed up when Everest hit him earlier.

“...” Everest didn’t seem to trust Tartar’s intentions (‘Smart cookie,’ Tartar admittedly thought, proud of her distrust and smartness even though they knew they would never harm a human.). She muttered under her breath, glaring at a nearby pebble as she did, “I should’ve stayed in the mountains…”

“The mountains! That’s where you’ve all been hiding, hm?” Tartar placed its fingertips together excitedly, unable to stop a dopey grin from spreading across its metal face.

“They wouldn’t take too kindly to a weird, telephone man..” Everest’s eyes shot back to look at Tartar’s then back at the ground just as she finished, adding, “Not like I’d ever go back there.”

“Oh it won’t matter! I-I can change my form! I take on this form though because it looks most like an Octarian. Shocked you haven’t seen one yet, they’re everywhere underground..”

Everest started to back away at this point. Tartar worried that he was stressing Everest out and making her feel a little overwhelmed with how excited he was. “Humans are nothing special, so why the bouncing and cheer talk?”

“I haven’t seen a human in YEARS, centuries, decem millenniums!” Tartar exclaimed. “You’ll have to excuse how excited I am!” Tartar grabbed Everest’s hand with their own, freezing cold talons. “Hey-! Let go!” Everest yanked back, glancing at her club which laid on the ground just barely out of reach. “Take a chill pill, I’m not going to hurt you! How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Take a hint, Tartar!” Ooooh, she used its name! “If you’re trying to trick me into bringing you back to the village, the answer is no! I’m never going back there again!” …Dang.

“What??? No! I- ha! I wouldn’t do that. Totes wouldn’t. You’re crazy, my dude. Absolutely bonkers, my cold homie!” Tartar tried to laugh it off, hoping to hide his panic. Maybe Everest was a little more observant than he had originally thought.

“Oh please, you started using way more slang, I know a trick when I hear one. You’re not going to the village and I’m not taking you back there unless it’s to help me wipe that place out!” Everest pointed back behind her.

“Humans are so cool though! Why would you ever want to wipe them out??”

“I ran away from that place for a damn reason!” Everest suddenly shouted as loud as she possibly could, snapping Tartar straight to attention, “I’m not going to listen to their culty BS about bowing down to The Leviathan anymore!” Everest swept her hand across to get her point across, “Its spawn stole this planet from the humans of yesterday and I’m not going back so I can hear more of,” Everest laughed, mocking one of the villagers presumably, “‘If we keep sacrificing sheep to The Leviathan, it will allow us to leave this cliffside’. I’ve grown tired of that STUPID CULT!!” Everest grabbed her hair tightly, heaving now. Her eyes shook and she was clearly panicked, causing Tartar to panic a little too, “THEY DON’T–! They- they don’t–!” Everest took a shaky breath, tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked so…suddenly weak. Weak and hurt.

“I-...I’m not going back…” Everest’s voice was weak and her arms dropped to her side. She sniffled again and wiped her few tears, as if hoping that Tartar hadn’t seen anything.

“A cult, hm?” Tartar approached Everest slightly, holding their hand out.

“Yes!” Everest met Tartar’s eyes again, “A cult based around the bile and spawn of The Leviathan here! I don’t ever want to go back, it would be better if they were all wiped out!” Everest slammed a fist into her palm, “The amount of people I can imagine I’ve eaten unknowingly in stew that were sacrificed to ‘The Leviathan’-!!” Everest grabbed her head again, staring out into space again as well. “The Leviathan doesn’t even EXIST!” Everest placed her arms over her head.

“Hmm…” Tartar watched a few more tears slip from Everest’s eyes and trail down her face. “Y’know, maybe you don’t have to go back,” Tartar noticed Everest’s sobs calmed down a little to listen to what Tartar had to say, “I’m willing to give you a sneak peak on my plans. I won’t even lay a finger on you if that’s what you’re scared of…” Tartar slowly and gently took Everest’s hands. They made sure they weren't poking the sharp tips into her hands. Tartar then began to slowly guide Everest over to a hidden hatch in the ground. They would retrieve Everest’s golf club later.

Everest slowly raised her head a little to look at Tartar’s hands and watched wearily before allowing Tartar to lead her slowly. “None of the sanitized octarians should harm you,” Tartar mentioned, reaching down to lift up the hatch in the ground. The hatch led to a white corridor. The Kamabo Co. Labs.

“They follow my orders exactly,” Tartar continued, carefully pulling Everest down the steps and closing the hatch behind her, “If I tell them not to harm you, they won’t.”

“What do you mean by sanitized?” Everest finally looked back up and took her hands away from him.

“Simple, I’ve created a primordial goop that will create the ultimate lifeform! I should’ve let 8 go. No one was going to believe an octarian about the crazy telephone who tried to kill them. I acted in panic and anger. But this time, it’ll be proper,” Tartar grinned and clenched its fist proudly, “No one will figure out until it’s too late. Especially with Mr. Grizz on my side, we’ll restore Earth to its former glory together!” Everest stared at Tartar with an unreadable expression. Tartar decided to pretend that Everest liked the sound of its plan.

The inside of the lab was rather bright and the buzz of talking echoed through the hallways. There were a few signs of struggling, making it clear that not everyone here came here willingly. There were also dried bits of pink ink dotting the walls. When Tartar saw it, he looked disgusted and quickly ordered a nearby Sanitized Octarian to please get rid of it.

Tartar couldn’t believe that CQ somehow missed a spot. Especially such a bright and noticeable spot! Maybe they needed to hire another janitor to help CQ… He was getting rather old after all. Just newly 7.

“What’s wrong with it? I thought the shade was…rather nice honestly,” Everest told Tartar, watching the octarian splat different ink over it. “No I-...” Tartar trailed off, seeing the octarian smile back at it and wander off. Tartar face palmed, “...I’ll just leave it for now. Don’t want to hurt their feelings…” Tartar turned away to keep guiding Everest down the hallway.

“I think Fern would find me even more disappointing than she first thought. I thought that interaction was rather cute!”

A laugh slipped out of Tartar as he commented, looking back at Everest, “Didn’t know such a tough kid could express such feelings!”

Tartar soon guided Everest to a room with a large blender in the middle, full of sanitized ink. This room didn’t require lights. The glow from all the sanitized ink was enough to light the room up. Tartar noticed Everest stumble a little and almost look sick immediately upon seeing the blender. Tartar brushed it off. Maybe it was the smell. There wasn’t much of one but it was at least noticeable.

“...You don’t do what I now think you do…right?” Everest glanced at Tartar with clear sickness on her face. Her voice was still a little weak.

“Well, tell me what you think I do first,” Tartar replied in a rather smug tone. They began to walk backwards, arms behind their back as they did. Tartar suddenly spun around after that and climbed up and sat on the top of the blender. Their legs kicked slightly as they stared down at Everest.

Everest looked a little more sick and worried as she responded, “Uhm..well- there’s a blender for one…uh..” Everest was clearly thinking of…something, “...Please don’t tell me you pick off the octarians around you and…sacrifice them to..” Everest pointed a hand at the blender. Tartar felt a little offended that Everest would think that admittedly.

“Nope! Well- eh, close,” Tartar shrugged before using a hand to gesture to the whole lab, “The octarians around you are ones that have failed their tests. All or most of them have failed their tests with a few of them being weak scraplings I kidnapped from Octo Valley when no one was looking. I select carefully. What you see here,” Tartar stood up, staring down at Everest, “Is a blend of everyone who’s succeeded in their tests! Only the most brilliant and greatest octarians end up here. It’s a blend of the most superior is what I’m saying. No one gets sacrificed. I’m not doing this for some make believe god. I’m doing this to create a lifeform on the level of humans!”

“...Will I end up in there some day…?”

“It’s a truly brilliant pl-...what?” Everest’s question caught Tartar off guard. Tartar looked over the edge, down at Everest. She looked terrified. The soft glow of the ink in the blender reflected in her amber eyes, giving them a burnt sienna shade.

Tartar had to scramble to think of something to say. This human was just full of surprises! “...N-No! Never! Absolutely not! I wouldn’t do that to a human!” Tartar leapt down from the blender, carefully holding Everest’s pale white hands again, “I-I was actually wondering if you’d like to join me!” Tartar grinned, “Take back Earth from those scraps of seafood above!”

Everest drew back from Tartar quickly, it wasn't grabbing her that tightly. “I-I’m not sure I can trust you yet. …What’s in it for me?”

Tartar was prepared for a reply like this. Way too prepared maybe. It wasn’t the first time someone had rejected his incredible offer. (‘3…’ His mind thought angrily) “Well, I doubt you wanna stay sleeping on that chilly and rock solid platform so I’ll make sure there’s a nice, comfy place down here to rest. I’ll make sure you never have to return to your mountain cult, hm…”

Everest started to think.

“I can’t let you leave after seeing this? No, that doesn’t make any sense! You don’t have anyone to rat me out to and you hate the citizens of that cesspool of a city too! Then again…you’re also the first person in years to strike me and land a good hit! You could find-”

“Stop. Stop. Stop. I get it. If I join you, I get a nice place to sleep and never have to go back to that crazy cult,” Everest waved her hand dismissively. Tartar looked over at Everest before they extended their claws a little.

“I mean, all you really needed to mention was getting a nice place to sleep. The mountain was freezing. I’m shocked no one got frostbite at all. At least, not that I ever knew of,” Everest’s bad attempt at a joke got Tartar to snicker. Everest slowly accepted its hand.

“PERFECT!” Tartar gave her hand a rough shake, “We’re in business, kiddo!” Tartar suddenly scooped up Everest and gave her a tight hug which she didn’t appreciate in the slightest!

“Mr. Grizz should be here so we can hopefully discuss more! Don’t worry, he might be a little intimidating at first but the bear’s a big softie! A total pushover at times even! He won’t hurt ya..” Tartar’s hug eased and it set down Everest, beginning to walk away already, “My little snowflake,” Tartar added with a smug smile.

“A-Aye…don’t call me that. We’re not quite at the nicknames stage,” Everest stumbled as Tartar left the room.

“Oh Leviathan, what have I gotten myself into…?” Tartar heard Everest mumble under her breath just as he opened the hatch and saw Mr. Grizz stood on the platform, waiting for his arrival patiently

[2fox2furious]

A Glitch in the System Part 3

"Stanley, wake up! It's time for an adventure."

Stanley might've been able to sleep through The Narrator calling his name, but he couldn't avoid the loud trumpet song shattering the peaceful morning silence.

Rubbing his eyes angrily, Stanley fumbled for the notepad and pencil laying on the bedside table.

[What are you doing??]

"Why, I'm getting you out of bed. We have a busy day after all." He poked his head into the room, only to be met with Stanley's angry glare. "Oh come now Stanley, I let you sleep long enough!"

[You better at least have made food for me.]

"Well, I have toast and coffee, is that good enough for you?"

Stanley groaned as he pulled himself out of bed. [I guess that'll do.]

The Narrator chuckled. "Good, good. Meet me outside once you're ready, alright?"

Stanley nodded. It didn't take him too long to get ready, and before long he joined The Narrator outside, a piece of toast shoved halfway into his mouth. He scoffed.

"Now now Stanley, couldn't you be at least a little more polite?"

Stanley huffed, gulping down the last of his food. [You woke me up with a trumpet!]

"Yes, well, I did it in style at least." He sniffed, readjusting his tie.

[I didn't even know you played any instruments. Besides that time you sung that song.]

"Excuse me, I am a wonderful musician." He set off into the forest, dry leaves crunching under his feet. "I even had a whole musical number planned out, did you know that Stanley? Yes, there was supposed to be a song and dance, it was all planned out and everything. Alas, it didn't work out but...hmm, maybe we'll run into some fragment of it while we're here. Yes, that would be nice. I did put a lot of effort into that after all."

Stanley nodded along, glancing over his shoulder at the cabin that was growing further and further away, disappearing into the mass of trees that surrounded them. [How will we find our way back?]

"Oh, don't worry about little things like that! Look at all this nature around us." He plucked a small, yellow flower from a nearby bush, turning it over in his hand. "It's beautiful, is it not?"

Stanley nodded absentmindedly, watching The Narrator out of the corner of his eye. He slipped the flower behind his ear, humming to himself, a warm smile on his face. Stanley didn't want to break the comfortable space between them, so he kept his pencil still.

Time blended together as they walked. The Narrator pointed out the occasional cool plant, or funny shaped rock, but besides that they found none of the living creatures you'd usually come across in a forest such as that one. No birds or squirrels or other various animals, and no sign of them either.

Stanley was about to recommend they turn back and try a different direction, when a bright flash of yellow caught his eye. He gestured towards The Narrator, before running off towards the structure.

It was hard to tell what it was at first. Only half of it was visible, the rest stuck under layers of packed earth. But when The Narrator saw it, his eyes let up.

"Yes, yes! This was the stage, Stanley." He smiled to himself. "The spotlights were supposed to go there, you see. I couldn't get them to work, it ended up being too glitchy. You can see over there, that's where the dancers were supposed to be, and—dear boy, what are you doing?"

Stanley had crept closer to the stage, hand hovering a few inches from it. He wanted to climb it and look around, but at The Narrator's voice, he froze.

"Stanley, you have to be more careful with this sort of thing! I don't—it would be inconvenient if you got injured now, so don't, okay?"

[Why not? If I do, you can just reset, and it'll be fine.]

"I wasn't able to reset yesterday, remember?" he tsked, walking over to Stanley. "I'd rather not take that risk."

Stanley went to write his response, but as he stepped away from the stage he hadn't noticed the thick root from a nearby tree poking out of the ground. He caught himself, but he couldn't stop the pencil from flying out of his grip.

"Stanley! My goodness, are you alright?"

He nodded, before holding a finger up. He needed to get that pencil back, he enjoyed talking too much to go without it. The top of the stage wasn't too tall, but not too tall for him to scale. The Narrator didn't realize what Stanley had been planning until it was too late.

"Stanley, wait—!"

He leapt, grabbing onto the side of the stage and hauling himself onto the structure. His pencil was just sitting there, and he waved it in the air to show The Narrator, before preparing to hop back down.

But then he fell.

Not off the structure, or through a hole in the stage. It was like sinking into ooze. The stage seemed to flicker around him as it swallowed him whole, plunging him into a void of flickering lights and colors. The Narrator's voice was there but Stanley couldn't make out the words he said, it was like being underwater. And that water pressed in on him, crushing his chest and drowning him on dry land. He couldn't tell whether the lights were getting dimmer or he was just blacking out.

But before he could fully pass out he felt himself being ripped from stage, sharp-clawed hands gripping onto his arm, fingers buzzing with energy. And then he was out. He hacked and heaved, trying to clear the pressure that still lingered in his lungs. He fumbled for his notepad, only to realize it wasn't in his pocket anymore. He let out a groan; he finally got his pencil back, and now this?

"Here, Stanley, take this. You dropped it."

Stanley let out a sign of relief at The Narrator's voice, but when he turned his head to look in its direction, the man wasn't there.

It was that... creature wasn't the right word, he knew that much. It was too humanoid. But humans didn't have four arms and grey, cracked skin, glowing with a bright yellow light. The sound of many ticking clocks filled his ears, drowning out that dull humming that seemed to eminate from within the being itself, the sound of running machinery. It tilted its head, mouth moving, but its words sounded far away.

"Stanley? Come on now, speak to me, are you alright?"

Stanley groaned, shaking his head like it could clear his head. When he blinked the next time, The Narrator was back to normal, but Stanley couldn't help but feel like his skin was still too cold. His eyes were still too bright.

He laid back down onto the dusty ground. [Who are you?]

The Narrator let out a surprised chuckle, sitting down in the grass next to him. "Why, I'm The Narrator. Surely you must know that already Stanley, we've spent so much time together after all. I am quite memorable too, did you perhaps hit your head?"

Stanley shook his head, scribbling down his response even faster than before, sacrificing some of its legibility in the process. [No, I know that, I mean who are you really? That's just a job, narrating.]

Another laugh, though this one sounded more nervous than surprised. It had a slight strangled quality to it. "I am The Narrator. That's all I've ever really been."

[Do you want to be something more then?]

"I'm afraid I don't know what that entails exactly."

[Well, to start, you should choose a name. Do you know how annoying it is to have to write out The Narrator whenever I talk about you?]

The Narrator sniffed indignantly, fiddling with his tie. "Choosing a name is a big decision, you can't just spring that decision on me!"

[No it's not.] Stanley shrugged. [If you don't like what you choose, change it. It's what I did.]

"You decided to change your name, and of all the ones you could've chose you chose Stanley?"

Stanley elbowed him, but he couldn't help but match The Narrator's playful smile. [Excuse you! I chose a different name but didn't like it and went back to Stanley. I think it's a great name.]

"I'm only kidding Stanley, I quite like your name. It really rolls off the tongue." He cleared his throat, before repeating with various intonations, "Stanley. Stanley. Stanley."

Stanley scoffed, but internally he was grinning. He really liked the way The Narrator said his name. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

[Well, what about for you?]

The Narrator's face faltered, if only for a second. "I'll get back to you on that, Stanley. I promise I will."

[Good.] Stanley stood up slowly, stretching, before reaching down to help The Narrator up too. [Can we go back to the house now? I've had enough adventuring for today I think.]

"Really? It's been barely any time at all."

[Well, we discovered another discarded idea and I almost died. We've been productive.]

The Narrator sighed, shaking his head. "Okay, okay. Let's go home."

[oliviainjapann]

May 13th- Tsukiji, Ginza, and Bunraku

Today was honestly one of my favorite days so far. I woke up very well rested and had a long nights sleep after last days adventures. I’m high key getting sick of the Japanese breakfast, and may need to start going to local cafes instead. We started the day going to the Tsukiji Fish Market, which I thought was SO cool. Everything looked so delish, and I wanted to try it all. But it was also 10:30 am and I don’t think my stomach could handle all the sushi at that time. However, my eyes locked in on the Wagyu beef skewer. I HAD to get one. I recruited Ryder to come and split one with me because it was lowkey expensive. It was incredible and melted like butter in my mouth. We then went to the Tsukiji temple. It was interesting to see the layout of this one in that they had actual seats kind of like a church in front of the front, and you prayed and lit incense prior to sitting down. Next, we walked over to Ginza. I had already came here with my friends one of our first nights for dinner, but it was interesting to see how it looked in the day time. I had a mission to shop today, as I hadn’t really bought much yet and was doing super good on my budget. I splurged at Itokya, this massive stationery store, and bought so many cute things and gifts for friends, as well as a stamp book and a bunch of washi tape to scrapbook. I then split off from my friends and decided to go shopping around. I ended up buying. a few cute tops so I would say that’s a success! (I also found a cute coin purse similar to Dr. Smith’s because scrambling for coins in my current purse is not the move and is so stressful when the cashier is staring me down.) I then got a salad for lunch from a little salad bar, and it was super yummy and just what I needed because I feel like I am lacking many nutrients lately from the meals I’ve been eating. I then went home and did laundry, and then we all went to the Bunraku performance. I will not lie, it was slightly painful to sit through, but I did my best. The audio guide was not good and was very glitchy so I ended up turning it off and just immersing myself in the sounds. I was also hangry so that probably didn’t help. Either way, I’m glad I got to experience it and can say that I have seen this show! I then got burgers with my friends and we just had a chill night in talking and laughing.

Academic Reflection

Today’s reading prepared me well for the Bunraku performance. It was very interesting to learn about how at one point in Japanese history, the puppetry performance was the primary and most preferred entertainment over other theater acts. This was primarily due to how expressive and emotive the characters are within the show. The puppets are extremely decorated and convey the scenes of the show well. Before the performance, I did not really understand that there would be a man sitting on the side reading all the lines, and I was more expecting a ventriloquist-type act, so I was very surprised. I also thought it was interesting how the only music was the one man playing his instrument. I am more used to plays and performances having a full band or orchestra below the stage, so it was cool to see just one guy creating the sounds of the show.

The reading was a good introduction to the show that we were going to go see, as otherwise I would not really understand what was happening because the audio guide was not working for me very well. I liked that there was a mix of action and drama within the play, and it was a good balance of both. The reading was not able to convey the emotion to the extent that the actual play had, and the narrator was truly so involved in the performance and I could clearly feel the emotion coming through him, especially during the sad parts.

[farfromharry]

Call me when you get this | College!Tom fic

Summary: you knew it’d be difficult for your relationship when you and tom went away to seperate universities. but now you were missing each others calls, your only form of communication, living off of the sound of your lover through a voicemail.

Word count - 14.3k+

Warnings - language, mentions of underage drinking, suggestive content, angst

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Friday, 7th September

Standing in front of your boyfriend’s house before nine in the morning on a cold Friday in September was not the place you really wanted to be right now, especially when you were having to say goodbye to him for who knows how long.

“I guess this is it,” he said, his voice lacking that usual boyish excitement it possessed when he was around you.

Today was the day you and Tom had been dreading for so many months. The day Tom left and really solidified the fact that the two of you had to part to go to different colleges, which were also quite a few hours away from each other. Your heart was aching as he stared at you with those sad, brown, puppy dog eyes, but you were sure your own eyes were exactly the same.

You began to tear up as you watched him pack his bags into the back of his mum’s car, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout directed at him. When he turned his head he noticed you staring and opened his strong arms for you, inviting you in. You obviously immediately accepted, rushing into his warm embrace. He squeezed you tightly in his arms, feeling your body begin to shake as you let out a broken sob.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He cupped your cheeks, making sure you were looking at him before he spoke. He had a comforting smile on his lips, one that always made you feel all warm inside. “This isn’t goodbye,” he promised, kissing your head a few times, “‘m gonna visit as much as I can, we’ll see each other soon. I’m not leaving forever,” he said.

“I’m going to miss you, so much,” you whispered, letting his strong, calming, scent overwhelm you when you buried your head back in his hoodie. “I’m so used to seeing you everyday.”

“I’m going to miss you too, more than you know Y/N.” You sighed sadly, nuzzling your face even deeper into his chest, if that was possible. Tom smiled, running his fingers through your hair as you both swayed softly in your embrace.

The moment was ruined all too soon by Nikki shouting for him. She felt bad for breaking up your moment, but the drive was already long and they wanted to arrive before lunch.

“Tom, we have to go,” his mum announced, trying to motion for him to start heading to the car. All his stuff was already packed inside, you’d helped with most of that part earlier this morning just so you got to spend more time with him, and now he was all ready to go; even if you wish he wasn’t.

Nikki offered you a sympathetic smile, knowing you were struggling to part from her son. She’d always called it ‘puppy love’ but she didn’t quite understand the extent of your affection for one another.

“I love you, and I’ll call you as soon as I can,” he promised, pressing no less than three quick pecks onto your lips. You nodded, plastering on a fake smile. He wiped your tears with the pads of his thumb, his heart fluttering as you giggled at how silly you were being.

He leaned down to kiss you one more time, ignoring the mixed taste of both of your salty tears. Only then did you realise Tom was crying too, your heart aching.

“We’re idiots aren’t we?” you asked. He nodded, chuckling as he pulled away from you. The only touch you had now was from the way your pinkies were still locked in a promise that you were going to make this work.

“I’ll see you later, bub.” “See you later, Tommy.”

He placed one final kiss on your head before turning on his heel to walk down his driveway. As he climbed in the car you were tugged into a hug by one of the twins.

When you looked up you noticed the wild curls and rolled your eyes at Harry, but nonetheless rested your head against his chest. “I still don’t know how you put up with him for so long.”

You laughed, playfully pushing Sam for the comment to scold him.

“Seriously Y/N, he’s so in love with you. Everything’s gonna be fine,” he admits in Tom’s absence. He knew that if Tom were here right now he’d probably hit him for saying so out loud.

“He’s right, he never shuts up about you,” Harry added. “Always gushing about everything you do,” he fake gagged.

“He’s whipped,” Paddy said, the youngest of the brothers making you giggle. Your heart swelled in your chest, your body suddenly feeling warm, even in the cold London weather.

Within the time of your conversation, Tom had already left, shooting you one last longing glance along the way, a smile forming on his lips when he saw you laughing with his family. You eventually had to part from the brothers and head home to pack your own things, saying your goodbyes and then starting your short walk home.

»»——⍟——««

You didn’t expect that Tom would already be desperately missing you by the time it turned dark. But your computer ringing on your desk proved you wrong.

Seeing his contact name on your screen for a facetime call made your heart flutter, sitting down in your chair to answer his call. It was slightly glitchy for the first few seconds, just while it connected, but within a minute Tom’s pretty face was lighting up your screen.

“Missing me already, Holland?” you poked fun. You watched him roll his eyes, completely ignoring your comments. “Hi, angel,” he greeted.

You bit back a smile, tucking some loose hair behind your ear to try and tame it after you caught sight of the mess you looked like in the small box at the top of the screen.

“Hi, how was your drive?” you asked. You shuffled around a bit, trying to get comfortable in your now much more bare bedroom. You’d been packing your stuff for most of the day after you got home, so your hair was a complete mess that had just been thrown out of your face when you started getting too hot to have it in your face all the time. You had one of Tom’s many hoodies you’ve stolen clinging to your body, his scent surrounding you.

Just bringing the sleeve up to your nose was enough to make it feel like he was really with you right now and not just on a screen.

“It was long, very boring too,” he whined, running his hands through his curls. “I suppose my mum made it at least a little better.” You giggled, pouting playfully for him. “How awful.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you pack,” he said, motioning to the boxes stacked behind you, a soft pout on his lips that just made you want to kiss him. He’d already told you he’d felt guilty that you helped pack for him, but he wasn’t there to do the same for you in return.

“S’okay, one more box and then I’m all ready to go in the morning anyway,” you reassured, motioning around your pretty much bare room with your arms.

“It looks so empty,” he commented, recalling in his head how nicely decorated it’d looked during his millions of visits. You nodded, frowning as you looked at your childhood room that held almost no kind of decoration on the walls.

“Anyway, let’s stop moping, I don’t want to cry again today,” you demanded, hearing a chuckle come from his end. He nodded his head, quickly changing the subject to something more positive.

You and Tom were talking for hours. In that time he showed you his new dorm room, and told you that he’d need your assistance at some point to help decorate, but it was more of an excuse to get you to come visit already. Your parents also made themselves known at one point, greeting your boyfriend and asking how everything was going so far. You kicked them out after a while, playfully irritated that they were hogging your boyfriend from you.

“Get out,” you said, trying to hide your little giggle. Tom was laughing on the other side, watching this all go down. “I am so sorry about them.” He was still giggling, making you smile and roll your eyes.

“I love them, don’t worry,” he reassured you. You huffed. “I’m pretty sure they love you more than me,” you told him. He shrugged his shoulders, flashing you a cheeky grin.

“I can’t really blame them.” You scoffed, shaking your head at him, feigning disappointment.

Over the course of the call you could see him growing more and more tired. His words would come out slightly more slurred, his movements slower and his eyes fluttering shut every few minutes, craving sleep desperately.

“Is it bad that I miss you already?” he asked, eyes drooping as if he was about to fall asleep any second. You smiled, watching him with a heavy heart.

“No,” you whispered, so gently Tom almost didn’t hear it. “But i told you so.”

Your lips twitched into a grin, hearing an unimpressed groan come from the other end. When the moment died down you took another long look at your boyfriend. “You should get some rest, looks like you’re going to fall asleep any second.” He hummed, smiling at you sleepily as he rested his chin on his hand.

The simple action, even after seeing it a hundred times, still made your stomach erupt with butterflies, yet another smile overtaking your features. You were sure that at this rate your face was going to end up hurting from smiling so much, but you suppose those are the kind of sacrifices you have to make when your boyfriend’s adorable.

“Goodnight Tom, I love you,” you said, your finger hovering over the end call button. You waited for his reply patiently, knowing his very sleepy mind often took longer to process things.

“G’night. Love you.” He nuzzled his face into the blanket you’d given him before he left. The one you normally take with you to sleep at his house, the one that smelled just like a mix of your shampoo and perfume.

It made Tom’s heart pang, but your smell also comforted him in a way he couldn’t explain in words. You took one last look at his sleepy face before ending the call with a small sigh.

You fell back on your bed, your eyes landing on the box of stuff that you had to finish up before you could head to bed, your body and mind screaming at you for not doing it earlier. You begrudgingly pushed yourself up, moving over to the wall of your room that held your photos of your friends and you.

You smiled as you looked through each one, some of friends and family, others with Tom or Tessa or the other Holland siblings that had built up over the years.

One specific picture caught your eye, one where you and Tom were happily slow dancing together at his cousin's wedding in late June of the same year. The memories from that night all came flooding back all at once, your heart overflowing with love and adoration for the male for the thousandth time today.

“Ow tom, you just stepped on my foot,” you whined, frowning at him. Instead of apologising like a normal person would’ve, your boyfriend instead chose to burst into laughter. You gawked at him, trying not to crack up yourself, trying to keep up your angry facade.

“I-i’m sorry-“ he wheezed. You started to giggle yourself due to his contagious laughter, shaking your head at how childish he was.

“That hurt. You’re heavy,” you laughed, “You’re such a dick,” you mumbled, your smile refusing to fade. Tom beamed unphased by your attempted insults, kissing your head and somehow pulling your body even closer to him.

“But you love me,” he whispered, his head tucking into your neck, placing another barely there kiss on the skin of your bare shoulder. You rested your cheek against the side of his head, fingers stroking the short hair at the nape of his neck, listening to the sound of him humming along to the song.

“Yeah, I do.”

You didn’t even know Nikki had snapped the picture until you were in the car with his family driving home that night. Tom had fallen asleep in the car, his head on your shoulder after one too many drinks, the boy taking much advantage of being over the legal drinking age for the first time.

His mother had grabbed your attention in the silence and showed you the beautiful picture on her camera, watching as your face twisted into one of delight. “Nikki, it’s beautiful,” you told her, being completely honest with yourself, you were in awe.

“Well, I thought you two were just completely adorable.” She smiled at you. The romantic aura had your heart melting, asking her if you could have a copy for yourself. She was more than happy to oblige and the next day she was handing you a physical copy of the image.

Now here you were, taking the picture down after only two or so months of having it up. You felt your eyes welling up again, wiping them with the back of your hand. “Damn it Tom, you cursed, chuckling to yourself over how obviously in love you were with this boy.

»»——⍟——««

Monday, 10th September

Tom's classes at uni were scheduled to start almost a week earlier than yours, which is why he had to leave home before you. Today was his first day of classes, he only had the one today but he had already promised to tell you about it as soon as it was over. He also knew that you should’ve arrived at your own campus this morning, making a mental note to ask you how it was going so far when he called you later.

Everything on your end was going well, you ended up driving there by yourself because your parents were unfortunately busy, but the unpacking process was coming along well.

Tom left his first drama class after the hour with a wide grin on his face. He'd just had arguably the best class of his life and he could barely contain his excitement long enough to wait to tell you about it. He pulled his phone out almost as soon as he stepped out of the classroom, stepping out of the way of the students piling out of the class. He pulled up your contact and hoped you weren’t too busy with unpacking your stuff, so he could talk to you while making the long journey back to his dorm.

Your loud ringtone filling the silence in your room interrupted your current task, shuffling over to see Tom's contact lighting up your screen the same as the night before. You knew you couldn’t be annoyed at his little interruption, especially because you’d already missed the sound of his voice so much and it’d only been a few hours at most.

“Goodmorning, angel.” You smiled as he greeted you, almost as soon as the line connected.

“You sound cheerful today,” you pointed out. You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, putting the last of your books on the small wooden bookshelf in your room.

“I just had an amazing first class.”

“Well, I’m glad, tell me all about it,” you told him. He talked to you about his morning class for almost 20 minutes, rambling and gushing about how much he enjoyed it and everything that happened, down to a T. You couldn’t have been happier for him. After your long discussion, making sure you asked him lots of questions to give him the chance to let him give you every detail, he seemed to finally take a breath and turned the topic of conversation around. You ended up talking about you now, one of Tom’s favourite things to talk about as he’s told you tie and time again.

“How’s unpacking going?” he asked, finally arriving back in his own dorm. You heard him greet someone with a hello, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Who was that?” you asked.

“My roommate,” he answered casually, like he hadn’t forgot to mention he ever even had one.

“You have a roommate, since when?” He paused and thought for a minute.

“Since I got the room I think, his name is Harrison,” he suddenly lowered his voice, cupping his mouth around the speaker of the phone, “He’s a bit of an arsehole though, I won’t lie.” You laughed loudly, glad you didn’t have your own roommate to share the small dorm with. You quickly got back on topic, Tom asking you even more questions.

“How are you settling in?” he asked, just as you had asked him last night.

“I'm okay, have some unpacking left to do, and classes don’t start until next week.” He hummed along with what you were saying, listening to every little word. “How’s the campus?”

“It's nice, but it’s lacking a certain pretty boy that I’m so used to seeing.” He awed, teasing you thoroughly about how sappy you were. You always got nervous when trying to flirt with your boyfriend, scared it wasn’t going to come out as smooth as you’d hoped.

“Shut up,” you said, trying to mask your embarrassment. He always managed to make you flustered when you talked about your feelings for him. He didn’t let it linger too long though, changing the subject as quickly as you’d moved on to it.

“So,” he started. “When do you think you could come help me decorate?” he asked, once again changing topics, this time however you were rather grateful he did.

“Need to see me in person already, Holland?” You turned the teasing around onto him, pausing what you were doing to give him your full attention.

“You know I do,” he said. You rolled your eyes when he didn’t end up nearly as embarrassed as you had just been. Sometimes his confidence in flirting really did infuriate you.

“No, but really, I want to see you. I miss your cute face,” he said, groaning towards the end of his sentence. You giggled, shaking your head. “Well, I have all this week that I can come down and see you,” you offered.

“How's Friday? You could stay the weekend, go back Sunday,” he suggested, “If that’s okay with you,” he added, not wanting to sound so demanding like he was forcing you to come.

“That sounds perfect, but check with your roommate, I don’t want to give him a reason to be more of a dick.” Tom laughed, nodding his head. “I appreciate that,” he chuckled. “and I will, don’t worry,” he promised.

There was a sudden, unintentional shift in the mood, the two of you becoming rather quiet as you both thought for a few moments. There was still the traces of your smiles on your lips, but they were quickly fading.

“How are we supposed to do this for so long?” you asked after the laughter completely died down, finally showcasing your worry to him that had been eating up at you practically since you got your college offers.

He smiled, shrugging his shoulders to himself as if it was obvious. “We’re Tom and Y/N, a fucking power couple, we got this,” he said, quoting something your school friends used to call you, all while calming your nerves about if your relationship would work long distance. “We had this discussion plenty of times before we left, I promise you, we’ll be okay.” You smiled, not that he could see.

“Good, because I'm not letting you go that easily mister.” He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t dream of letting you go either, you’re one of a kind Y/N.” You grinned, the two of you just basking in the knowledge of each other's presence.

“How did this get so cheesy so quick?” he asked, making you laugh.

“That’s just who you are,” you said.

You heard a childish scoff on the other end. “Am not.”

“You so are!” The two of you stayed on the call until you realised how much work you really had to do with your room. The boxes were still stacked up and unopened, you hadn’t even unpacked half yet.

“I appreciate your company, but I really need to get back to putting stuff away.” You didn’t really want to stop talking to him, but you couldn’t deny he was a massive distraction from your original task.

“Yeah of course, but I can't wait to see you Friday,” he said, making that giddy feeling linger in your chest. Butterflies were erupting in the pit of your stomach the more you thought about it.

“Me too, and we’ll have to plan when you can come down here sometime,” you said. “Unlike you, I have a room to myself,” you pointed out, having a slightly suggestive undertone to your words.

“I’ll remember that,” he paused, “Princess.”

You shivered, chills shooting down your spine, the nickname was something he would only use when the two of you were having, adult time.

“You bastard,” you said, referring to the way he said that with such ease, knowing it’d play on your mind for the rest of the day.

“Alright, well i’ll text you later,” he brushed it off, making his promise instead, hearing an ‘alright’ from you on the other end.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you more, see you later Tom.” You ended the phone call with a fuzzy feeling all over your body, smiling to yourself, dazed. Tom was exactly the same all those miles away, laying back on his bed with a lovesick grin painted on to his face. You were both so in love, and so, so confident that your relationship would make it through this distance.

»»——⍟——««

Friday, 14th September

Friday thankfully came very quickly, something you were very, very happy about. Before setting off on your long, lonely journey, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to call Tom.

“Hello Thomas,” you greeted, unable to wipe your grin from your face. You were seeing your boy today.

“Hi beautiful, what’s up?” he asked, sounding rather out of breath. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Do you need an inhaler or something, or-“ you teased.

“I woke up late, I'm currently running across campus to my class.” You laughed at him, receiving an annoyed scoff from him.

“I just wanted to tell you I'm leaving now, I should probably be there just after lunch,” you said.

“That’s amazing, I’m sorry you’ve got to drive all that way alone though.” You shook your head, once again forgetting that he couldn’t see you.

“It’s okay, but I should let you get back to being late for your class, good luck,” you said.

“Thanks, very funny, I'll see you when you get here,” he said. You could practically hear the smile in his voice, even over his dog-like panting.

“See you later.” You hung up with a small squeal, a small smile staying glued on your face, even well into the drive after the conversation had ended.

You had to admit, the car ride was lonely by yourself, but it was also so worth it for Tom. It’d only been, not even two weeks, but you missed him greatly already and from what you’d heard from him, he felt exactly the same.

The silence in your car was filled with the sound of your different playlists playing through the speakers. Some were just from random playlists, others from the playlist that you and Tom seemed to most enjoy together.

You could feel your heart starting to beat faster, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you got closer and closer to your destination.

You sent him a quick text when you hit traffic just outside of the campus, telling him you’d be about 10 more minutes. You just received a simple smiley face in response. You and Tom both had your locations on for each other anyway, so he’d know when you arrived. It’d become a promise that you always would after one night when you’d been out with your friends getting drunk, and you’d gone a little bit too far.

You could barely even stand straight anymore, having already forgotten about a few drunken messages you’d sent to Tom before the last shot you’d taken. You were drawn out of your daze when you felt your phone buzzing against your leg, seeing Tom’s contact on your screen. You squealed like a little girl, answering his call with a slurred yell of his name.

“Where are you, baby?” he asked, concern laced all through the tone of his voice.

“ ‘M having fun with m-my-” he heard you huff, “I can’t find them.”

Tom’s eyes widened at the thought of you being alone and drunk in now an unknown location. He cursed under his breath, trying to think of a reasonable thing to do.

“Can you turn your location on for me, Y/N?”

You hummed, pulling the phone away from your ear. You tried to steady your vision, telling Tom that the room was spinning. It made things ten times more difficult, but you eventually managed to do it, alerting Tom with a cheer.

“I did it, Tommy,” you said, “Are you proud of me?” you sounded like a scared child, desperate to receive Tom’s validation.

“So proud of you, angel.”

Tom pulled up your location on his phone, noticing you were at a bar. He wasn’t sure how you’d managed to successfully get in underage, being only 17, but you managed.

“Can you stay where you are for me?” You nodded your head before realising he couldn’t see you. You giggled to yourself quietly before mumbling a quiet yes. Tom offered to stay on the phone with you but you told him you needed the bathroom, feeling as though you were going to throw up.

When Tom arrived, he had to ask the bouncer if he’d seen you, showing him a picture. The large man motioned to where you were sitting on the curb by yourself, shivering from the cold hitting your bare arms. He bent down beside you, reaching out to place his hand on your arm, shocked by how cold you were.

“Tommy,” you gushed, wrapping your arms around his neck, “By the way, I didn’t throw up,” you stated, almost as if you were proud of that achievement.

“That’s good, but let’s get you home.” He pulled off his jacket to wrap around your shoulders, helping you up off of the floor and guiding you to his car. You were heavily drunk but you weren’t completely out of it, so when Tom drove past your house, you began to whine at him.

“I’m not letting your parents see you like this, they’ll kill me and then you.”

You huffed like a child. “You’re too pretty to die.” Tom laughed, reaching over to grab your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah?” “Yeah,” you sighed dreamily.

Tom helped you inside his house, making sure to avoid any creaks in the floorboards so he wouldn’t wake his family. He guided you up to his room and then started the process of being a good boyfriend. No matter how tired you were, he helped you change into some of his clothes, helped to take off your makeup and tied your hair up and then made you brush your teeth by yourself, even when you complained.

The last move was getting you under the covers off his bed, seeing you pass out almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. “Goodnight angel, you’re going to have a horrible hangover tomorrow.”

And true to Tom’s word, you woke up the next morning in his bed and clothes, your head pounding and only a faint memory of the previous night. Tom strutted into his room clad in only a pair of plain black joggers, his abdomen on full show.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” He placed a glass of water and two pills down on the nightstand beside you, telling you to drink up so you could feel better. He filled you in on all the basic details and you just wanted his, ridiculously comfy bed, to swallow you whole.

“Maybe we should keep each other’s locations on from now on,” Tom suggested. You nodded, rubbing your side head and leaning into him. “I think that’d be a good idea.”

That’s how he knew you’d arrived in the campus car park. You had barely even stepped out of the car when he practically tackled you in a hug, taking you off-guard. You laughed loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling your nose into his cheek.

“I'm so glad you’re here,” he said, squeezing you tightly. You couldn’t push away your grin, your heart feeling like it was going to explode as you held your boy in your arms.

“I missed you bub,” you whispered, pulling back to kiss him. Your lips molded together perfectly, the two of you feeling as though you were complete again.

You weren’t sure you’d ever shared a kiss like this with Tom, and the two of you had shared lots of kisses. This one was different though, it felt like every moment of emotion from missing his person these past two weeks was being poured into this kiss and you loved it.

“Oi, Holland, cool it with the pda.” Tom turned his head, spotting one of the lads from his drama class and suddenly feeling embarrassed. You tried to turn his head to kiss you again, searching for his lips with yours and ignoring the obvious moron that interrupted you, but then huffing when he denied you. You followed his gaze, seeing a boy standing a few feet away.

“Who’s that?” You watched as he flipped him off jokingly, making some comment about how he at least had a girlfriend.

“That's Tuwaine, he’s in my drama class, met him the other day.” You nodded, smiling before turning back to look at your boyfriend.

“So, are you gonna show me to your dorm, or do we have to stay out in the cold?” you teased. He laughed, helping you take the bag you packed out of the back of your car and offering to carry it for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you commented.

“That I am,” he said, bowing playfully. You shared another round of laughter before you silently decided you really should get out of the cold weather.

“Lead the way, handsome.” He laced your fingers together, leading you in the direction of his building. You walked slowly, giving you both a chance to catch up. Over the small journey you’d shuffled closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your other hand around his arm.

“Right in here,” he said, guiding you through the door of his building. His hand resting comfortably on the small of your back. He unlocked the door to his room, opening it and like the gentleman he claimed he was, let you go first.

The two of you entered his dorm room, Tom holding out his arms and muttering a quiet ‘voila,’ making a show of it. You giggled at his behaviour, humming as you looked around at the messy and pretty much bare room.

“Very nice, it practically screams boy,” you pointed out, sending him a tormenting smile.

“Hey, hey, be nice.” He pointed his finger at you, scolding you teasingly.

“I’m always nice, whatever do you mean?” you smirked, playing dumb. He tossed your bag on his bed and pulled you in by your waist, he kissed you again, more passionate this time now it was without the interruption of the public eye. You gently pushed on his chest, ignoring his whine when he tried to follow your lips again, just as you had done earlier.

“I came here to help you decorate, not to sleep with you.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“We could do both,” he muttered. You tossed one of his pillows at him, seeing him raise his hands in defense.

You punched his shoulder lightly, kissing him quickly.

“Alright, let’s decorate,” you said, clapping your hands in front of you. Tom pulled out the boxes he had yet to unpack from his small wardrobe, handing you one that had pictures in it.

“Where do you want these?” you asked. He motioned to the wall next to his desk.

“Right there, so I can stare at your beautiful face when I don’t want to do my school work.” You giggled, nodding your head.

“Alright then, can’t argue with that.” You started pulling pictures out of the box, some of you two together, some of his family.

“Do you remember this?” you asked, holding one of the pictures of you both between the tips of your fingers. It was you and Tom at his family’s cabin in France, the one where they go skiing almost every year. You were both in big coats and snow trousers, trying to keep warm on the snowy mountain. You both had your ski goggles resting on your head, the two of you grinning widely. “Yeah, I do, he smiled, “That was such a great trip.”

“That reminds me, my mums been asking about if you’ll come again with us this year.” You smiled at the thought of Nikki thinking about you and wanting you to be around her family.

“I'd love to, I always have so much fun there,” you said, trying to be heartfelt and honest.

“Me too,” he winked, referring to the separate ‘fun’ you two always have right after midnight on new year's day, just to start the year off right.

“Behave,” you warned, pointing your finger at him.

“When's your roommate coming back?” you asked, changing the topic while stretching to put up another one of his pictures. He laughed, pressing his solid front to your back, cheekily nibbling on your neck.

“Why, something on your mind?” he asked, hinting at something else, squeezing your waist underneath his hands.

“No, stop that,” you scolded playfully, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Just wanted to know if he’d have an issue with me being here, that’s all.” Tom hummed.

“He said he’d be fine with you being here, in his words ‘as long as he doesn’t have to hear us fuck,’ so.” You laughed, nodding your head.

“Well, he won’t have to worry about that,” you said, a cheeky smile on your lips. Tom pouted, however accepting your kiss as apology.

You spent the next few hours unpacking Tom's things, focusing more on hanging up some of his clothes on the racks he had, rather than the pictures you were doing earlier. At some point you did steal one of his hoodies, pulling it over your head just to have a sense of him close to you, even if he was already in the room with you, receiving the comment of, “Just can’t stand to be away from me, huh?” tugging at the material of the pink hoodie. “Shut up.”

After it went dark, you and Tom put off the rest of the decorating until tomorrow, not that there was much left to do anyway. You agreed on just watching movies for the rest of the night, calling for pizza. He got some extra too, to thank his roommate for letting you stay.

You spent what felt like forever searching for a film on your boyfriend’s laptop, finally settling on one that you and Tom both thought sounded good. The two of you sat together on his bed, your legs in his lap and his hand rubbing the scratchy fabric of your jeans.

“I’m starving,” you whined, burying your head in Tom's chest. Your stomach growled just to prove your point, making Tom laugh.

“It'll be here soon,” he reassured. A knock on the door made both of your heads perk up.

“That was good timing,” you joked. Tom jumped up from his bed, pulling some cash out of his wallet and opening the dorm door.

He frowned slightly when he saw his roommate.

“Forgot my key, sorry,” Tom nodded, seeing your face drop knowing you had to wait even longer for your food. “Someone did hand me this on the way in though, said it was for our room.” He held up 2 pizzas, a cheer coming from you that made Tom laugh. He handed them both to Tom. Tom however handed you one of the boxes, then the other one to the blonde male, who looked at him confused.

“This is actually for you.” He handed him the box of pizza, receiving a rather shocked thank you. “Just a thank you for letting Y/N stay,” he explained.

“This is Y/N by the way, Y/N this is Harrison,” he introduced. You smiled, waving to the blonde.

“You can join us if you’d like, we’re just watching a film,” you offered, just trying to be polite.

“No it’s okay, I’ll let you enjoy your time together, but thank you.” Tom smiled before making his way back over to you, climbing back into his bed behind you. He kissed your head, wrapping his arm around your waist and getting himself comfortable. Harrison put in his own set of headphones, watching something on his computer.

The movie dragged on, finding it growing harder and harder to keep your focus on it.

“Are you tired?” he asked. You hummed, turning your face over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend.

“We can finish the movie tomorrow,” he said. You thanked him, nuzzling your face in his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach.

“Get ready for bed, I’ll pack this all away,” he said, motioning to the food and things on his bed and nightstand.

“Okay,” you mumbled, begrudgingly letting go of him and climbing out of his bed. You stretched your arms, your shirt riding up slightly and exposing the bottom of your stomach. Tom playfully jabbed you, making you squeal at the ticklish feeling.

“Stop,” you whined, slapping his hand away, pouting as he laughed at you. Tom kissed all over your face until you smiled, getting rid of your pout.

You grabbed your bag off of the floor, sticking your tongue out at your boyfriend childishly. You headed to the attached bathroom to change. You changed out of your current outfit, putting on some comfortable shorts to sleep in that you’d brought with you and then leaving on Tom's hoodie that you stole earlier. You put your hair up, just so it wouldn’t get in your face, tying it in a messy ponytail at the crown of your head.

“Y/N, are you decent?” Tom asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening the door for him.

“What’s up?” you asked, pulling your makeup remover out of your bag.

“I need to brush my teeth,” he said. You nodded, shifting to give him enough room by the sink as you began to take off your makeup. He watched you like a hawk the entire time, following your hand movements with every gentle swipe of the cotton pad on your face.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, causing him to snap out of his slight, dreamy daze.

“You’re just so pretty.” You huffed, shoving his shoulder.

“Stop being such a sap,” you commented.

“Only for you,” he teased, sending you a wink through the mirror.

Halfway through him brushing his own teeth, you began to brush yours. Playfully bouncing your hip against his own to push him out of the way of the sink. He stumbled and you let out a muffled giggle, watching him glare at you.

“Oh it’s on, I'll get you back,” he promised, receiving a teasing ‘oo’ from you.

After spitting in the sink, he flashed you a toothy grin through the mirror, one that made you giggle. Now that he had nothing left to do, he moved over to start bothering you, wrapping his arms around your waist and gently prodding your stomach to try and tickle you and get you to laugh.

“Tom,” you scolded, trying to focus on brushing your teeth.

“Hurry up, I wanna go to bed,” he whined, sounding almost like a pouty child. You finished up brushing your teeth, holding your hair back as you spit your toothpaste into the sink.

You wiped your mouth with the towel and then turned to Tom with a smile. He playfully pinched your cheeks, telling you you looked cute.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said, slapping his hands away. He placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the bathroom.

Upon entering his room again, you saw that he’d actually cleaned up his mess for once, receiving a proud, but sarcastic, clap from you. He caught on, telling you to behave.

“Come on, get in.” He pointed to his bed, letting you get in first. His bed was barely bigger than a single, so the two of you had to cramp together, not that either of you would ever complain. He climbed in after you did, pulling you back into his chest and burying his face in your hair.

“You smell really good.” You giggled tiredly at his comment, eyes fluttering shut.

“Thank you bubba, now go to sleep.” He turned off the light above his head, kissing your neck and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled.

“G’night Tommy.”

You had to admit to him, his bed was almost as comfy as sleeping on a cloud- not that you’d know what that’s like, but still. It was possibly the best night's sleep you’d had in months, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the bed or because you were back in Tom’s strong arms. When you woke up though you were alone in the bed, looking around to find you were alone in the room too, Harrison’s bed already having been neatly made.

The door opened right on time and Tom strolled in. He noticed you were awake and flashed you one of his charming smiles.

“Good morning,” he greeted. You stretched your arms above your head, making a soft noise that almost made Tom melt in his converse.

“Morning,” you smiled, pulling his covers up so they were right underneath your chin. Tom thought you looked so precious, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture of you, even after you protested against it.

He leaned down, kissing you gently.

“I went and got us some breakfast.” You pushed yourself into a sitting position, thanking him quietly. You ate together, making happy conversation. Tom asked about how you slept and also admitted he slept better with you in his arms. He basically forced you out of bed, after you refused to leave the warmth.

“Let’s finish decorating and then we have the rest of the day to spend together, doing whatever you want,” he said. “I like the sound of that.”

The rest of the weekend after that went by quicker than you would’ve liked. It felt like only hours before Tom was walking you to your car, ready to say goodbye to you again.

“I hate this,” you whined.

“Me too,” he mumbled. “I'll come and see you soon though, I promise,” he said, squeezing you tightly before opening your car door for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, referencing the moment when you arrived a few days ago, kissing his lips.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can,” he repeated.

“I love you,” you muttered, running your fingers through his untamed curls.

“I love you more.” He kissed you one more time. You climbed into your car, waving to him through the window as you started up the engine. You sighed as you drove out of the gates of the campus, not really ready to start your long journey back to your own.

»»——⍟——««

Friday, 18th November

Unluckily for you and Tom, ‘soon’ ended up being almost a whole two months later. Tom was so busy with schoolwork that just kept piling up and by the time he was free, you were busy. The cycle kept repeating and it was horrible. You missed your boyfriend greatly and you were hoping he missed you just as much as he said he did.

Tom had arrived at your campus early in the morning, at a time you wished you didn’t have to be awake, just so he could spend longer with you. At least you could appreciate the gesture, even if you were losing out on sleep.

“And this is where the magic happens,” you said, opening the door to your dorm and guiding him in. He chuckled, kissing your head.

“What kind of magic?” he asked, an underlying dirty meaning to his question.

“Shut up.” you flushed.

“I can’t believe I haven’t been able to touch you in almost two months,” he whined, his boyish attitude dissolving and being replaced by your whiny, adorable boyfriend, nuzzling his face in your neck.

“I know,” you said, getting completely distracted by running your fingers through the overgrown curls that were peeking out from underneath his cap. You thought it was adorable, but you knew he’d grow to hate it soon enough. “You need a haircut,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I think I like it longer,” he said as you pulled off his cap, tugging at the long strands of dark hair. Tom stared at you as you did so, watching how fascinated you seemed to be with his hair. He couldn’t help leaning in, connecting his lips with yours.

“Uh-uh, not now,” you told him. “Later, baby.”

He huffed, pulling your lip between his teeth, running his hands up and down your body.

“Come on, you can decide if you like my hair longer.” His sentence had an underlying tone of lust to it, just like his earlier comment had too, trying to hint at a very non-pg act the two of you could be doing right now.

“Nope, later though, I promise.” He whined, throwing his head back. You bit back a grin, taking in the way his jaw looked sharp and very much attractive from this angle.

“Well, get dressed handsome, I’m taking you to dinner.” He lowered his head and looked at you with a smile, kissing you softly. “Are you trying to woo me, now?”

“Of course, now put on something pretty and let’s go, I need my arm candy.” You slapped his butt playfully, moving over to your wardrobe to pull out a slightly raunchy dress. Tom recognised the fabric instantly, one he’d seen time and time again that made him go wild.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asked, in a state of shock just imagining you in the material.

“Got a problem with that, Holland?” you asked. He rapidly shook his head, unsure if you were joking or not. “Good, now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go change.” You made your way into your bathroom, changing into the risky dress without any more interruptions from your boyfriend. 

You took your time getting ready, wanting to make Tom wait just to build up even more anticipation.

“Y/N, hurry up,” he whined. “I want to see you, already,” he complained, whining like a child on Christmas who didn’t get the toy they wanted. You opened the bathroom door slowly, leaning against the frame, staring at him innocently.

“Oh wow, you look incredible,” he said, getting up from his seat on your bed to shuffle over to you, sliding his hands around your waist. You made eye contact with him through the mirror, giving him a seductive smile that had his hands wandering around your body.

“How is my girlfriend so attractive?” he asked. You giggled, leaning back into his touch.

“We need to go, we don’t want to be late,” you said, dodging having to respond to the compliment that made you feel all warm inside, taking his hand and your purse and leading him out of the door.

Tom was in awe of the restaurant when you arrived, he didn’t realise you were taking him somewhere this fancy. “This place is really nice,” Tom said, looking around the restaurant. His hand clinged to your waist nervously as you told the hostess about your reservation. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been somewhere this nice that hadn’t been some sort of family function, so he felt like royalty right now.

“Are you trying to bankrupt me?” he asked, poking your stomach. You slapped his hand away, turning your attention back to the woman.

“This is my treat, come on.” You snapped him out of his daze, guiding him with you to your table. He pulled your chair out for you, kissing your head and almost daring you to make the gentleman joke again.

“You know I’m not letting you pay for this, right?” he asked. You stared at him with a furrowed brow. “Why not?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m visiting you, let me spoil my girl.” He changed the topic of conversation before you got the chance to object.

“I’m so glad we got to do this,” he said. You shook your head, a grin growing on your face. You couldn’t lie though, you were happy to see him in real life again.

“Me too, I know we say this like every day,” you laughed. “But I really missed you Tom.” 

He leaned over the table, kissing you gently before sitting back down in his own seat. You went straight for and picked up the drinks menu, making Tom laugh and shake his head. “Already on the alcohol.” 

“Oh hush.” You scanned the list of wines, finding one that you and Tom had purchased before on a special occasion. You pointed to the name, seeing the cheeky grin spread across his face.

“I remember that night,” he chuckled. “How many rounds- I’m sorry I mean bottles, did we have that night?” Your jaw dropped, giggling at his false cover up. You shook your head.

“We’re in public, stop being inappropriate,” you warned. He shot you a wink, making your whole body flush for the thousandth time since he’d got here this morning.

“Hi, are you ready to order?” the waitress asked, glancing between you two and interrupting your reminiscence into the past. Tom looked up at her with a smile, her eyes widening.

“Could we just have a bottle of red wine for now, please,” he pointed to the one you meant. She nodded, trying to give him a flirty smile that made you snicker. She glared at you, timidly touching Tom’s shoulder before walking away.

“What was that?” you asked, a playful smirk that told Tom you weren’t mad at him.

“You can’t blame me, I’m just that irresistible.”

Her antics continued for most of the night, and you were growing more and more frustrated with how she was blatantly ignoring you to flirt with your boyfriend.

“If she flirts with you one more time, I won’t hesitate to knock over my wine on her,” you threatened, seeing Tom’s lips twitch into a smile. 

“Are you jealous?” he asked, intertwining your fingers on the table. He raised his free hand in defense when you glared at him. 

“Shut up.” You kicked him gently as a warning, seeing the wince cross Tom’s face.

“But not the red wine, you know that’ll stain,” he continued to tease, sarcasm lacing his words. You huffed, flipping him off. Tom didn’t let up on teasing you about your spontaneous hatred for the waitress all night. When she brought out your food he couldn’t help but make a few sly comments in response to her flirting.

“Do you want to try some?” he asked, holding his fork to you. He was trying to make up for pissing you off. You nodded, taking the food off of his fork with a hum.

“That’s really good.” He nodded, taking a sip of his wine. 

“Do you want to try some of mine?” You offered, doing the same for him as he’d done for you. He took it with a thank you, telling you he really liked it. Your food didn’t last long, you were both starving and it was exceptionally good.

You and Tom grew more and more tipsy as the night went on. You began to flirt with him some more too. You’d forgotten how much you enjoyed spending time with Tom.

“Oh here she comes,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Tom laughed, squeezing your hand in his.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked, her flirty gaze focused on Tom. You rolled your eyes, teasing your heel up his thigh under the table as you sipped on your drink. He coughed nervously, trying to ignore how close your foot was to his crotch.

“C-can we get another bottle of wine, please?” She nodded, leaving you both as you were.

“Spoiling me today are we?” you teased. He laughed, nodding his head. “Always, gorgeous.”

After your second bottle you didn’t waste much more time at the restaurant after paying the rather pricey bill, calling a taxi to take you back to the campus.

You could barely even stand straight by the time you were pushed up against your dorm room door. Your hands were working on unlocking it, struggling with the way his lips were attacking your neck and shoulders. You still weren’t wasted, but you could definitely feel the alcohol in your system, making everything feel lighter and Tom’s touch even more amplified than normal.

“So, when’s your roommate coming back?” he joked. You giggled quietly, throwing your jacket somewhere in the room. 

“Very funny, now shut up and just get in my bed.” He laughed loudly, picking you up by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinning up at him when he dropped you back on your bed. “Get ready for the night of your life,” he whispered, attaching his lips to your neck.

“I’ve been ready.” 

»»——⍟——««

Wednesday, 3rd April

As the months went by, the visits became less frequent, finding it increasingly more difficult to find time to actually physically go and see each other. Rather than at least once every two weeks, it started to be once in a while, and then eventually you wouldn’t see each other until the trip over Easter break. 

You both tried to call as much as you could, but you eventually started missing each other's calls more and more. It got to the point where you could not talk to each other for a minimum of 3 days, with the exception of a quick text in a morning or just before you went to sleep and the occasional voicemail.

It felt like everyday one of you was waking up to the notification of a missed call on your phone, followed by the message you’d received a voicemail. They all went the same way, a greeting, making some kind of light hearted joke that you’d manage to plan badly again, a simple i love you and then a call me when you get this.

When Easter time finally rolled around, painfully slowly, you and Tom were able to organise a time when the both of you would be free so you could plan the trip you wanted to take together.

The familiar sound of your ringtone blared through your dorm room, a small smile creeping onto your lips when you saw Tom’s contact picture lighting up your phone. The picture was an old one you’d taken of his a few years ago, reminding you that you should probably update it soon with a more recent one, that is if you had one.

“Hey, Tom,” you said, greeting him sweetly. You got a hello back, followed by a rather uncomfortable silence that the two of you had never experienced before. “So, um, where are you thinking we should go?” 

The man on the other end was biting his lip nervously, not sure if you’d like the sound of his idea or not, but this also had never happened before, so what was he supposed to do? He always came up with ideas you loved.

“I was thinking we could go to this cabin I found, really pretty view, um-“ He hated that he was unable to see your face right now, not able to see what kind of reaction you were giving off to his words. “You can say no of course, but I thought it’d be nice.” His voice trailed off towards the end and he spoke much quieter, almost like he was scared to hear your answer.

“That sounds really nice. I’d love to.” You could hear him let out a sigh of relief, the man feeling as though a weight had been lifted off of his chest.

“Great. I’ll make sure to call the place.” “I can’t wait.” 

When the day of your trip rolled around you were nervous. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in forever and you weren’t sure if things were automatically going to jump back to the way they’d been, even if you were hoping they were.

Your eyes landed on Tom with a smile, the man opening his arms to you for a hug. You had no problem practically jumping at him, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly while his snaked around your waist to hold your body close.

“I missed you, so much,” he whispered, his nose buried in your neck to take you all in. You agreed silently, pulling back to be able to press your lips onto his sweetly, sharing your first kiss in months.

Tom had been generous enough to pick you up from your campus and then drive you both down to the cabin, rather than you having to drive yourself. The car ride was full of the stories you hadn’t been able to tell each other yet, filling what would’ve been an awkward silence.

You were more than happy to be back with him, and little did you know he felt the exact same.

However, it felt like for the first few days of the week that you weren’t really there. Of course you and Tom were both physically there but it felt like you were sending longing gazes and looks from a distance rather than really feeling that natural spark between you both.

You’d be sitting on the couch in the cabin, both of you in silence as you watched any random movie that played on the TV in front of you. Normally the two of you would be making constant unnecessary commentary throughout the duration, but here you were, sitting stiffly next to your boyfriend.

“What is wrong with us?” Tom asked. You turned your head, furrowing your eyebrows at the pretty boy who was staring right back at you with those puppy eyes. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. You had an idea that he was talking about the atmosphere between you both.

“This is so awkward, we- we’re usually so natural and us,” he complained. You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder with the first display of affection that night.

“Yeah, I know. We’re probably just out of practice, right?” you suggested. You didn’t want to believe that your relationship could be going downhill, you were Y/N and Tom, that couldn’t possibly happen. “We’ve got this Tom, we’re still us.” 

That short conversation seemed to have worked. Over the next few days, and the last few remaining days of your trip, you and Tom were practically back to your normal ways. Your affection and love was able to come naturally again, calming all your racing thoughts about the pair of you drifting apart.

Unlike the past few days, now you’d be in the kitchen cooking, laughing and making jokes while having mini food fights. Or you’d be getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth when Tom would wrap his arms around you from behind and start placing kisses up and down your neck, making you flush and giggle sweetly. You spent your mornings sharing sweet words and kisses that made you completely weak for the man, and even thinking about giving it up again for who knows how long brought you physical sadness.

When it came to the time you had to leave you were obviously sad, more than you thought you’d be when this week began. You and Tom had almost managed to rebuild your relationship to the strength it once was, so now it was hurting just as much as the first time he left on that Friday in September.

He drove you back to your campus in mainly silence, the two of you keeping your fingers interlocked while he drove, soft music playing over the radio in the background. 

“How much longer?” you asked, hoping to have at least a little longer with him. He flashed you a small smile. “Under twenty minutes.” 

You sighed, feeling him squeeze your hand in response while his eyes stayed fixated on the road.

In a very short twenty minutes Tom was pulling into the College, parking quickly and turning off the car. The two of you just sat there for a minute, not saying anything but at the same time saying everything that needed to be said.

“Well, I guess this is it,” you said, turning to him with a sad smile. He nodded his head, lifting your hand from where it rested in your lap to place a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“‘m gonna miss you,” he whispered, leaning forward to rest his forehead comfortably against yours. You hummed, quickly pecking his lips.

“Don’t forget to call me, Holland,” you warned, pointing your finger at him playfully.

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

»»——⍟——««

Sunday, 29th May

By the time June was about to roll around you hadn’t seen Tom in almost two months.

He never did call, and the calls you left for him only ended up being missed. Everything had gone back to the way it was before. Almost two whole months. You still had faith in him, and almost everyday you’d wait to see if he’d call. Most of your calls to him would go straight to voicemail, so you simply gave up on putting in the effort.

It was the same routine everyday. Wake up, go to class, wait for Tom’s call, give up. Today was slightly different because you had plans for the night. You tried to wait as long as you could in your dorm to see if Tom would call, but when the clock hit six you gave up.

Some girls you’d begun to be friends with from your History class had invited you to a party they were going to, so to take your mind off your boyfriend not calling, you agreed to go. You did some light makeup, curling your hair like you knew Tom liked, then slipped on a black dress that would’ve made him drool.

You snapped a few pictures, some of just your face but then others of you in your dress too, debating on whether or not you wanted to post them to your account where Tom would definitely see. 

After staring at them for probably way too long, you gave in and did it anyway. You smiled as your friends gave nice comments, waiting to see absolutely anything from your boyfriend.

A sudden knock on your dorm door startled you away from your entrancement with your phone, opening it to see your new friends with large smiles. They held up a bottle of alcohol that would no doubt be for pre-drinks, making you laugh. You ignored their attempts at trying to get you to do a shot, telling them you were waiting on something from Tom. 

“Are you ready to go yet?” one of them asked. You sighed sadly and nodded.

“Let me just grab my purse,” you said, you walked back over to your bed, checking your phone one last time with a sigh, still nothing. 

“Alright, let’s go.” You smiled, closing your door behind you and heading off to the party to forget. You laughed together along the way, internally grateful for them trying to take your mind off your boyfriend.

But even in the party atmosphere, after they’d gone to get drinks or find someone to hook up with, you struggled to tear your eyes away from your phone. 

“Y/N, I don’t want to see this phone again,” Lainey said, holding two drinks in her hands. You were guessing she was already tipsy.

“Hey, fuck him okay? He’s the one missing out.” You giggled, thanking her and nodding. You put your phone in your bag out of sight and took the drink from her outstretched hand.

“Now, let’s party,” she announced, dragging you into the crowd of people where you’d end up being for the remainder of the night.

When you finally got back to your dorm after the party, it was the first time you checked your phone in hours. You saw a couple missed calls from Tom, as well as a voicemail. Your excitement from the night faded and your heart clenched, frowning that you’d missed him again. Even when you were waiting for any sign of contact from him, you weren’t expecting him to call you today and now you just felt guilty for mentally cursing him out earlier on.

You played the voicemail on speaker as you were taking your makeup off. The sound of Tom’s voice still made you feel all warm inside, even when you were mad at him, and you were addicted to the feeling.

“Hi beautiful, looks like I missed you again.” He laughed. “We really need to get better time management.” You nodded your head with a smile, agreeing. “I just wanted to hear your voice, I had a pretty shitty day and uh, yeah,” he paused. After hearing that you were able to hear the obvious signs of sadness lingering in his tone. “I saw your post by the way, you looked gorgeous, I hope wherever you went you had fun.” It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Call me when you get this, I love you.” 

Your heart ached, you didn’t know he’d had such a bad day. You planned on calling him back straight away, but upon noticing the time and realising that at three in the morning Tom would most likely be asleep, especially due to him having classes in the morning, you didn’t have much faith in him answering.

Just as you suspected, the call almost straight away went to voicemail, telling you to leave your message after the beep.

“Hey Tom, I’m so sorry I missed your call,” you started. “I-I was at this party and just got so caught up in it all, I didn’t even see my phone ring,” you paused, the line going silent again.

You knew when he listened to this voicemail that he’d hear how happy you sounded talking about the party. For now you knew you needed to say something else before the line cut you off.

“Well, I’m really sorry your day was bad. Call me back, I want to hear what happened, ‘nd know what I can do,” you told him. “I love you tom.”

Your eyes wouldn’t let you stay awake much longer after that. Letting you change into comfier clothes before you passed out for the night.

The next morning was a Monday, and you had absolutely nothing to do all day due to having no classes. You woke up earlier than you would’ve liked, having a quick snack for breakfast and then climbing back into your warm bed.

You pulled out one of the books Tom had bought you over Christmas, smiling as you traced the hardback cover. You could still vividly remember how happy you were the moment he’d given it to you.

“So I know I already got you something,” he stated, grabbing the wrapped book from out of his suitcase, “but I also know how much you’ve been wanting this.”

He placed the present in your hands. You thought it felt quite heavy, beginning to tear away the wrapping paper until the mystery was revealed. Your eyes widened as you read the front cover, over and over, just to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you. It was the same book that you’d been trying to find since its release, however it’d been sold out everywhere and you’d complained to your boyfriend countless times.

“Tom, oh my god,” you gasped, staring at him in shock, “How did you get this?”

“I have my ways.” His lips curved into a smirk and you pulled him into a tight hug, practically suffocating him.

“Thank you, you angel.” You kissed him softly, but it was a kiss that was filled with so much passion and adoration that it made your head spin. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m guessing this means you like it?” he teased. You rapidly nodded your head, even if he was being sarcastic.

“I adore you.”

You were engrossed with reading it for the next hour or so, a soft smile on your face as you got lost in the storyline. It was arguably unlike anything you’d ever read and you absolutely loved it.

The loud, blaring noise of your ringtone filled the silence in your room, making your heart leap, alerting you of an incoming phone call. You reached over to your nightstand, picking it up and glancing at the caller ID.

Seeing Tom’s name splayed across the screen made you smile, bringing the phone up to your ear after answering.

“Hi Tommy, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today,” you said, smile wide as you answered the call. “I was just reading the book you got me for that one Christmas, d’you remember?” You heard him clear his throat, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“I think we should talk.” Your heart dropped, smile falling from your face, putting down your book and sitting up straighter because he definitely didn’t sound happy.

“What?” you asked, following with a nervous laugh. It probably wasn’t what you thought it was right? It was just a harmless phone call. “Where is this coming from?”

Tom felt vulnerable. He was never one who was amazing at having deep conversations where he’d wear his heart on his sleeve. And he was positively in love with you, so this was torture. “I never talk to you anymore- We never talk anymore. You’re always out having fun and I-I feel like you don’t want to be with me now.” You frowned, tears beginning to cloud your eyes at his confession. You weren’t even aware he felt like that until now. You were glad he’d told you, but your heart ached at the idea of you making him feel like this unintentionally.

“Tom, I love you, with my whole heart and I-“ You heard his shaky breath and quiet sniffle down the phone line, your heart breaking at the sign he’d been crying- or maybe even still was. “Tom.” 

“No, I, it’s breaking my heart Y/N,” he cleared his throat. “I just-“ he stopped talking, sighing loudly. He was starting to get frustrated with himself. He didn’t know how to confess his feelings and it felt to him as though he was making it harder. 

You weren’t able to process what was happening right now. Your thoughts were running wild and you were scared to death that he was about to break your heart, something he promised he wouldn’t do when you started dating. As cliche as it sounds, you thought he was it for you. You weren’t able to picture anyone else in your life besides Tom, and even though you were young, you were certain this would be endgame.

You were crying now too, tears racing down your cheeks, dripping from your chin to your lap as you sniffled. You whimpered his name into the phone, prepared to fix this and fight for your relationship, you couldn’t lose him like this, not this easy. Part of you was hurting for him, you felt utter sympathy for what you’d been putting him through, you wish he’d told you sooner so you could’ve tried harder. But, another part of you was angry at him, for springing this onto you so suddenly, for doing it over the phone and for being so selfish.

“What are you saying?” you asked, your voice coming out weak and filled with obvious desperation. “Tom, please, I can’t lose you.”

There was a few moments of silence. A few hours away from you Tom was sitting alone in his dorm room. At least he thought he was alone. For the entirety of the phone call Harrison had been standing outside of their dorm room. He was about to enter when he heard Tom talking on the phone, not wanting to interrupt he decided to wait, but the course of the call clearly took a turn from the usual lovey-dovey conversations he overheard.

Tom had his knees pulled up to his chest, his head leaning back against the wall and his bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he played out all the things that could happen from now on in the call.

He was evidently stressed, tears streaked across his cheeks as he took shaky breaths to push down his sobs. “I-I think we should talk about this another time,” he said, the sound of a small sniffle following down the phone. You squeezed your eyes shut, more tears spilling down your cheeks.

You didn’t know what that meant. Did he want to break up? Did he want to fix things? When was another time? There were so many questions floating around unanswered and you wanted to scream at him for leaving things so open ended.

“I-I don’t understand. We can figure this out- Please.” Your voice broke towards the end, showing your pain through to the man who was struggling to hold back all of his emotions. 

He hated knowing he’d put you in pain but his own heart was hurting too, and it was almost like part of his resented you for that.

He gave up a little bit, deciding he couldn’t do this anymore, not today. “I’ll call you some other time Y/N. Goodbye.” You let out a sob as the line went silent. 

Tom, for one, hadn’t told you he loved you when ending the call, and two, he’d said goodbye. The one thing you promised that you wouldn’t say to each other while you were gone, a promise you made on the very first day he left. It was always, see you later, and now you didn’t know where you both stood.

When Harrison heard the call ended he took it as his chance to enter his room, only to find Tom with his head buried in his hands as he tried to muffle his heartbroken cries.

“Hey, man.” The brunette looked up nervously, furiously wiping his eyes and trying to pretend as though he hadn’t just been bawling his eyes out. “You okay?” he asked. 

Tom wasn’t an idiot. He knew he looked a mess, he knew Harrison noticed, and he didn’t particularly feel up to lying right now. He just needed a friend.

“No,” he answered honestly. Harrison frowned, taking a seat next to Tom on his bed. The two hadn’t been that close since becoming roommates, but were much closer than when they’d first met.

Harrison pulled Tom close to him in a friendly hug. He hadn’t quite been through a breakup so he didn’t know what to say to Tom to help him, but for Tom this was enough.

“Things will get better, I promise.” He shook his head, almost laughing at how ridiculous his roommate sounded right now.

“I don’t think they will. Not anymore.” 

»»——⍟——««

Thursday, 3rd June

It got to the point where you hadn’t heard from Tom in four days. You were almost sure it was over at this point if he didn’t call you soon. You’d tried calling him of course, left countless voicemails and texts, as well as the ones to wish him a happy birthday, something you were rather upset you missed.

You’d barely left your bed in days, it felt like you were too heartbroken to even move. Little did you know Tom was exactly the same. He’d overthought everything he’d done, refusing to speak to anyone but Harrison, who was only making sure he still ate and drank, meaning he missed lots of messages and calls on his birthday.

With a lot of persuading and guilt tripping from his roommate he finally decided to do something about it. “You need to talk to her, mate. Don’t let this ruin everything you have.” 

After that he showered for the first time in days, which Harrison was very grateful for, and got dressed and was ready to head out with one last burst of reassurance to himself.

When you heard the knock on your dorm door you didn’t even consider moving to see who it was, choosing instead to keep ignoring the world like you’d been doing for the last near week. You’d ignored pretty much everyone that had tried to see if you were still alive this week, messages from friends included.

It was only when the knocking became more urgent that you started to get frustrated. Normally after a few short minutes your friends would give up and just leave, but this only seemed to be carrying on.

You groaned, wiping your dried tears and pushing yourself out of bed begrudgingly. You didn’t care that you looked like a mess anymore, so you didn’t care that this person, whoever it was, was going to see you like this. 

You pulled open the door open rather angrily, your eyes widening in shock when you saw Tom standing there with a bag on his shoulder, looking almost as broken as you did, but possibly more cleaned up as he’d actually made an effort.

You didn’t know how to react at first. You didn’t know where the two of you currently stood and you didn’t want to push his boundaries, but seeing him standing there told you he was ready to fix this. When he flashed you a small smile you didn’t waste another second, nearly flinging yourself into his arms, almost crushing whatever it was he was holding.

“Oh, thank god,” you cried, wrapping your arms around his torso. You were scared he wouldn’t hug you back at first, confirming what you thought about your relationship truly being over. That wasn’t the case though. Tom wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly in his grasp, his hand drifting to the back of your head to keep you tight against him.

The two of you thrived being in each other’s touch again after so long without it, feeling as though your heart was finally mended again. 

You were reluctant to pull away. However, you unfortunately had to at some point. You led him inside your room, trying to quickly tidy at least a little bit of your mess that had collected over the past few days, even if that meant just making your bed for you both to sit on.

Tom set whatever had been in his hands down on your desk and then placed his bag on your floor before sitting down next to you on your bed, finally letting you see the mini cake he’d brought with him. You felt your heart flutter, the idea that he still wanted to be able to celebrate his birthday with you was too precious for you to handle.

You didn’t talk for a few minutes, messing with the sleeves on your jumper that was probably Tom’s as you waited for him to talk.

“Y/N,” he said, watching as you raised your head to look at him. “C’mere.”

He opened his arms for you, not feeling physically close enough to you as he wanted to be. He helped you crawl into his lap, your legs thrown over his while your face tucked into his neck. His hand rubbed up and down your back when he felt the way you were shaking slightly.

You were trying to string together the sentence of words you wanted to say to him but for some reason it was just too emotional for you.

“I-I was so scared Tommy,” you admitted. “I didn’t want us to be over,” you cried.

Tom hated seeing you like this, knowing that he’d been putting you through this for days without returning your calls or messages, even if he was no better on the other side of the phone. He shook his head, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him so he knew his words would sink in. He gently wiped away your tears, even if they just kept on coming.

“I would never, I promise,” he said. “I could never let you go that easily, not without trying to make it right. I’m sorry for putting you through that.” You smiled, for the first time in days.

“Good, you’re too hot to leave me,” you teased. He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “I’m sorry too, by the way. I didn’t know I was hurting you.” 

It fascinated you that all you needed was to apologise and pretty much all was forgiven. Things clearly weren’t going back to normal straight away but you were glad you were able to at a minimum not break up.

The whole moment felt like something from a movie. Tom was looking so lovingly into your eyes, silently pouring all his love for you in the simple action of holding you while his thumb stroked your cheekbone. You looked back with an exact reflection of his own emotions, your heart feeling as though it was mending everything that had broken it this past week.

Tom took the moment to lean down to kiss you, his lips curving into a frown when you turned your head for his lips to meet your cheek.

“Why can’t I kiss you?” he whined. He looked like a scolded puppy, his expression bringing a smile to your lips. Your expression changed though when you remembered why you didn’t let him kiss you, letting out a huff that twisted into a frown. Tom gently kissed away the crease that had formed between your brows, your face heating up at the simple gesture of love.

“You said goodbye,” you said, hitting his chest lightly. He cocked his head in confusion. “What?” he asked, innocence lacing his tone.

“On the phone. You said goodbye, and you told me we wouldn’t do that.” 

He could tell you were getting worked up again, his hands coming up to wipe any stray tears that fell. “Oh bub, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot for doing that over the phone,” he apologised, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear to keep it out of your eyes.

You smiled at him, letting him think you’d forgiven him enough to finally let him kiss your lips. He leaned in again, only inches away this time when you pulled your head back, giggling quietly to yourself as he let out an audible groan.

“Now what?” he asked.

“You need to tell me what that cake is for first,” you grinned. He rolled his eyes, reaching over as much as he could to grab it from your desk.

“I thought, seeing as we missed my birthday, we could celebrate together a little late.” 

Your heart melted as he confirmed your thoughts. You rested your head against his shoulder, letting out a sigh as you allowed your eyes to close for a few seconds.

“I missed you,” you mumbled. It was something the two of you said a lot, but even then every time was just as true as the next. He hummed quietly, kissing the top of your head lovingly.

“I know, I missed you too.” You gave in this time when he gently guided your chin so you were looking up at him, letting him press his lips to yours gently. Your hand snaked into the hair at the back of his head, keeping him close to you so he couldn’t pull away from you prematurely.

When your lips parted you rested your forehead against his, your eyes tracing the freckles that decorated the skin of his nose and cheeks. 

He lifted his hands up slightly, a motion to show the object he was holding. “So, how about some cake?” 

You let a soft giggle slip past your lips, nodding your head as you wiped away and excess tears that still remained on your face. Tom rummaged through a few things in his bag until he found some utensils to eat the cake with, making you laugh at how he’d come so prepared.

“Happy late birthday to me,” he said, taking a bite of the cake with a content look on his face. You hummed, watching him with complete adoration glittering in your eyes.

“Happy late birthday, Tommy.” 

The two of you ate in a comfortable silence, relishing in the fact you were back together again. Your mind was brought back to the bag you’d seen him bring, catching his attention long enough to ask him a question.

“Are you planning on staying?” you asked, trying to contain any excitement just in case you’d end up getting your hopes up. He nodded, trying to suppress his grin as he saw your eyes light up. “I want to take the time to make this right again, Y/N,” he admitted. “As long as it takes.” 

You agreed, pressing another kiss to his soft lips. “As long as it takes.” 

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

tom holland taglist → @seutarose​ @lmaotshollandd​ @photoshopart15​ @hopelessly-harry​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @icyhollands​ @sinisterspidey​ @siriuslyslyslytherin​ @musicalkeys-blog​ @itstaskeen​ @tpwk-grande​ @zspideyy​ @spideyssunshine​ @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ @lowkey-holland​ @hollandcrush​ @wizkiddx​ @sannie-san-shine​ @sonnydoesrandomshit​ @hopeless-romantic-baby​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @dummiesshort​ @itsbieberxholland​ @lillucyandthejets​ @piscesparker​ @bvttercupbby​ @mymilliefrommarketing​ @spideyspeaches​ @kujokura @l0velyevans​ @jess-holland23​ @felicityparkers​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @captainamirica​ @tomsirishgirlx​ @lou-la-lou​ @slutforsr​ @tayyx​ @bora-world​ @annathesillyfriend​ @lovableparker @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @messedupmyfuckinglife @bi-lmg @londonspidey @multixfandomwriter @mrsholland96 @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream @hallecarey1 @aayaissaa

[chao-writes-stuff]

DELTARUNE SPOILERS

Heyyy! I wrote a thing involving Jevil and the Chapter 2 Superboss! I'm going to put it under the cut, but at the end, there will also be an Ao3 link if you wanna support me there!

Thank you! Remember to Reblog if you wanna

The Lightner Trio walked down the stairs in the Queen's massive manor, their hurried footsteps echoing like a rough pitter-patter in the technological nightmare. The massive lair confused and bamboozled them, but they definitely wanted to figure out the mystery behind what the Fountains were about, what Queen's true intentions were… and what was in the basement?

"Uhh… Kris?" Ralsei asked, his soft voice echoing out. "Why are we even here? Aren't Queen, Noelle, and Berdly upstairs? And not here…?"

Susie quickly interrupted him, punching his arm lightly to get his attention. "Of COURSE they aren't here. But whatever is here is probably important. Right, Kris?"

"I guess!" The currently blue human replied. "I've been asked by some… guy, about doing these weird favors for him. He really wants me to be alone."

"We sure he ain't a p-" Before Susie could finish her thought, Ralsei muffled her mouth with his scarf. "Who is he? And why does he want you to be alone?"

"His name is Spamton, I think. I don't know much about him, but he gave me this Loaded Disk earlier, and--"

Suddenly, a strange, chaotic voice rang out. Everyone recognized it. The tail attached to Ralsei's cloak popped off, diamonds and hearts flying out with it. The tail spun and took form, and the chaotic Jester they quite literally put to rest yesterday was reawakened.

"Spamton? SPAMTON? The same Spamton who wished for me to go, to go, and be free, free?" Jevil laughed chaotically, with Ralsei caught quite off guard. "You know him?"

"That dorito chip was part of the reason why I was set free, he was! He used to rule this world, before the Queen I've been hearing oh so much about took over. Oh, I MUST know more of how you met that ridiculous lunatic! And that's coming from ME, ME! Spamton, oh Spamton, I'd like to have a word with him~!" Jevil looked quite pissed off, his normally jovial expression looking slightly stern.

"I didn't wanna go down there anyway. Just come back, okay? You're kind of carrying us with your defense boost." Kris, with a neutral expression, gave the clown the disk they were gifted by the malignant salesman, and watched as Jevil immediately sprinted off into the basement. They could hear an echoed "Buh bye~! I'll be back in a few hundred words!" As the jester descended into the decrepit basement below...

Jevil entered the musty, rotting cellar. Despite him rarely stepping on the ground, each step he did take left a haunting impact on his feet. It was silent, save for the occasional rustling of his clothes. He didn't have long to do this. His physical form only had a few hours to be out and about before he solidified, just like the young boy and the puzzle freak. Thankfully, that's all he needed. He was getting excited, almost giddy, to interact once more with his old acquaintance. Oh, what a wonderful conversation they'd have!

He didn't walk for too much longer before he found the train station that was buried deep below. Or was it a roller coaster? Whoever had this built clearly had some elaborate roundabout in mind… too bad they were still imprisoned, haha! Jevil walked and floated across the tracks, reaching a room with a decaying robot inside.

He knew this was a bad idea. But when did he ever have good ideas?

Without hesitating, the joker put the disk into the robot. At first, nothing happened, and he was getting impatient VERY quick. He gave the robot a swift kick in the lower area, before stepping back out of the room.

Step…

Step…

SLAM! The clown was admittedly caught off guard with how fast the silhouette from above came and pushed him onto his knees. With a small gasp for air, Jevil looked up slowly at the encroaching menace. The jagged movements, the glitchy, unsolidified form… this was him alright.

"KRIS… MY LOYAL [Sponge!] THANK… YOU. THE [Clown Around Town!] I REMEMBER YOUR [Disgusting] FACE. EVERYONE WAS SO [Thrilled] TO SEE YOUR [Calcified] FACE." The massive robotic behemoth loomed over Jevil, rage in his glasses. Spamton NEO.

The clown got up, a smug, shitfaced expression on his mug. He knew damn well that the dorito in front of him was pissed off, so he leaned back in the air to retort. "At least I drink plenty of milk, uee hee hee! As for you, you haven't changed one bit since we last spoke~! Or would it be a byte, a byte? Regardless, I do hope you've given up on the illusion of freedom, freedom~! The only one who can be free is MEEE!"

The robotic menace swung around to the other side of Jevil, making it very clear who was in charge of the conversation. A small concentrated blast of Pipis was fired at the jester, pushing him back with a surprising amount of force. "YOU ACT SMUG, BUT YOU [Crashed our stocks!] AND THEN YOU [Spoiled relations with our Esteemed Partners!] I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU… GOT IN HERE, YOU… [Tuna Fish,] BUT I'M NOT FALLING FOR YOUR [Roundabout!] AGAIN!"

Jevil laughed maniacally at this thought. This guy was mad! Over something that happened how long ago? Why even bother holding a grudge still? Petty, petty! He knew why, and it's why he came back too. "You influenced him. That pretty little kitty. You gave him enough funds to release me into that carousel of bliss and innocence! But I wasn't done, not one bit! And all those years, spent being free… they made me realize something, my dearest Spamton."

The oddly calm tone coming from the jester put Spamton NEO at an incredible amount of unease. "WHAT? WHAT COULD YOUR [Calcified Lump] THINK OF THAT WOULD MEAN ANY GODDAMN THING TO ME?"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

The joker used his latent power to pelt the giant mecha with small white hearts. Spamton was caught off-guard, stumbling back a fair amount. Of course, you have to fight fire with fire, so the robot used his abilities to send out a Big Shot of blue Spamton Head Pipis.

"YOU [Saturated Marketshare!] YOU CAN'T SIMPLY ATTACK ME AND EXPECT IT TO WORK [As seen on TV!] I'M A [BIG SHOT!] [BIG SHOT!!!]"

Jevil hopped up onto the ceiling, clearing the first few Pipis on the lower row heading his way. Unfortunately, the higher row caught him clean in the face as he bounced between the two, making a small Jack-in-the-box melody as he pinged around.

"SPAMTON, MY BELOATHED! I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND, UNDERSTAND, WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE TRAPPED IN A CAGE WITH A SHARK, A SHARK! YOU GET BITTEN AND CHEWED UP!"

The fool retaliated by running circles around Spamton, turning into a carousel of horse bullets! The robot, in a surprising feat of puppeteering, dodged the attack almost perfectly… until a stray horsie cut a string, sending the mech's right arm into the horse race. One thing about arms with cannons on them? They fire.

As soon as it happened, Jevil was face to face with a swarm of Pipis all around him. He was stuck. All of them exploded brilliantly, sending the clown flying clean across the rotting tracks and into the wall. Tauntingly, mockingly even, Spamton NEO retorted.

"I'M THE SHARK NOW, JEVIL! I'VE CHEWED UP SO MANY [Failed Buisness Partners] THAT I COULD MAKE A WHOLE [Presentation] OUT OF THEM! STAY OUT OF MY GODDAMN WAY, OR [Sparkle like new!] YOU BRAT."

The buisnessman charged at Jevil, his hands becoming phones. "IT'S FOR YOU." Suddenly, before either of them could react, loud blasts of garbage noise manifest expelled from the phones, attacking the court jester with white blasts of energy. There was nothing he could do to stop this robot's onslaught, it looked like.

"OH SPAMTON, IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? THAT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S SO POWERFUL RIGHT NOW, NOW? I'D SUGGEST YOU LOOK UP, UP! YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT THOSE STRINGS IMPRISONING YOU, UEE HEE HEE! YOU'RE NOT A BIG SHOT, YOU'RE JUST A LAZY FRAUD WHO CAN'T STOP HANGING ON TO HIM! I GUESS SLEEPING FOR 100 YEARS DOESN'T MAKE LITTLE OLD ME MISS MUCH, RIGHT?"

Without warning, Jevil was myseriously gone from his corner. The spamware looked frantically for his target, before being struck in the arm, the leg, and the chest by scythes. Devilsknives. The last knive cut a few strings clean off the puppet, who briefly hit the ground before rising back up.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! [Hyperlink Blocked.] I'M STILL HIS LOYAL ASSOCIATE! HE MAY NOT HAVE TALKED TO ME IN [Employee of The Month for 144 months!] BUT HE'S STILL THERE…"

Jevil interrupted him cleanly and concisely. "FACE IT. YOU'RE NO BIG SHOT ANYMORE, SPAMTON G. SPAMTON. ALL YOU ARE IS A FAILED INVESTMENT, UEE HEE HEE!"

With those words, a purple blast came from behind the clown, striking the robot right in the noggin. He flew back a bit, giving the joker enough time to turn around to meet his esteemed guests.

"Ah, my imprisoners~! Didn't you guys have a Queen to rock-em sock-em?"

Susie immediately cut him off, as she punched him in the arm (causing his head to spring up, naturally.) "Well, Kris over here couldn't shake the feeling things were off. So they forced us down here, and now they're right. Somehow?"

"I know I'm right.. Jevil, who the hell is Spamton?" Kris replied, their worry about the situation starting to rise.

"It's of no concern to you~! His screws were almost as loose as mine, and I don't think it's my job to tighten them~! Uee hee hee! Thank you for the help, but I can do anything~! Even tell you guys that 3 coasters are about to come down and force you guys along for the ride~!"

Ralsei immediately stuttered something out. "Three… what?"

And just like that, with a loud rumbling, the heroes were swept up into 3 old, rusty carts, barrelling down the track. Jevil laughed to himself, proud of what he got to do. "Ah well, it's a shame I can't finish him personally…"

"But oh well! Are you proud, proud? They took care of him…"

"Doctor."

Ao3 Link!

[ribsprotruding]

EHEM!! THIS IS MY WRITING DON'T STEAL IT, OR I'LL FUCK YOUR MOM👺 (again)

(Zecro is a phoenix)

Zecro inhaled sharply as he entered his house, slamming the door behind him. He leaned on the door, and slowly eased himself to the ground. Currently he had a broken blade sticking out from his stomach, he knew not to pull it out. Yet the pain was so immense he couldn’t help but imagine plucking it out as if it were one of his flaming feathers. His breath staggered and he reached for the blade, eyes narrowing. He was dripping in sweat, and not to mention the small puddle of blood that was starting to form under him.

“Tiro?!” Zecro called for his friend, but no one came. His voice was hoarse, and as soon he called for Tiro he spat blood. He cussed under his breath, cursing the human who did this to him. The pain greatly outweighed the anger, and he knew that. Tiro wasn’t home, obviously, and that left Zecro in a predicament. A life or death type situation. He reached the the blade again, and as soon as he did he let out a loud grunt, yet he held onto it. He was going to pull it out, well that was the original plan.

A sudden wave of euphoria fell over him like a wave crashing onto the shore. The pain didn’t seem to be as prominent as before, except it was this new feeling. The feeling of being at peace, this was something he hadn’t felt in a long long time. Was he really going to die here? After everything he achieved, was this his time? He let go of the blade, and looked at his hand, lifting it up. He thought of his life, everything he has been through and done. He once was the villain, and had done some very bad things. Yet he corrected most of them, but the thing he regretted most, he couldn’t fix. That was not marrying her, the love of his life. He felt his strength dwindle and his hand dropped to the ground. He thought of the times where he was with loved ones, and didn’t realize it was getting hard to breath.

“I guess it’s true.. once you die, your life does flash before your eyes.. geese..” He said, weakly. His eyes fluttered shut, and his breaths became staggered until his last moments, a small smile spread across his lips. He took his finale breath of air, and everything went black. Zecro Caddele has died, once and for all.

“After everything he had done, was it fair that he died like that? Yes, zecro has done a lot of bad things, and yet in the end he got better. It’s understandable why some would still hold a grudge against the young Phoenix boy.”

(*cue the room going fully black! Then a spotlight goes into the middle of a room. A man sat in a red throne. The man wore a suit, dressed formally. His flaming gold eyes flared in the light)

“I’m afraid, I can’t let the story end like this. It’s pathetic, the main character dying in the end? No way, that’s boring” The man said, standing up. The end of the suit touching the floor as he stepped forward. He took the camera in his hands and seemingly tossed it to the side causing it to break.

(The screen becomes cracked, and glitchy. The only thing that is insight is his polished shoes. Then with a thud everything goes black. He stomped the camera.*)

With a pained gasp Zecro sat up, he was in the hospital. Bandages were wrapped around his wound that he thought would be the death of him. Literally. His breathes were shaky, and as hospitals normally are, he was cold. He felt so cold that it was as if his breaths were visible, and he looked back at his hand. He heard breathing that wasn’t his own and looked over to see a sight he thought he’d never see again. Theadosia sat was leaning on the bed, her head in her arms. She was sleeping so peacefully that it kinda shocked Zecro, he reached out and placed his hand on her hair. She moved a bit but stayed asleep. He felt a ping of guilt looking at her red puffy eyes. She has been crying, crying because of him. Geese, he was a bad boyfriend. He ran his fingers through his hair, realizing how knotted it was.

“How long was I out?” He asked himself quietly, inspecting how long his hair had grown. Not only that but there was a white cluster of white on his bangs. He looked at it through a mirror, he played with it. Was it old age? No way he’s been out that long, the wasn’t the only thing throwing him off. He remembered dying, he was sure he did. How did her survive that, hell, he lost enough blood that even a vampire would be overwhelmed. The nurse walked in, and as soon as she saw he was awake she dropped everything. There was a shocked look on her face, did they think he was dead too?

“ DOCTOR! He’s AWAKE!” The nurse exclaimed, waking up Theodosia. Her eyes were a bit droopy and when they made eye contact her eyes widened.

“Zecro?” She asked, her voice broke a bit. He gave her a small smile, and she immediately hugged him. There were tears falling from her eyes, yet she was silent. Her shaking told him that she was scared. He didn’t understand why, and then it clicked. He held her In his arms tightly. He understood the pain of losing someone. They stayed like that for a while. After that the nurse explained what was going on.

“You’ve been out for six months, Mr Caddele.” The nurse explained calmly, and Zecro eyes widened. At this point Thea was sitting back down, she nodded verifying this. Zecro immediately grabbed the tubes attached to his arm and yanked them out. He was angry now, yeah, he was angry. He had every right to be, he worried those who loved him for SIX WHOLE MONTHS. He looked at his body, that was once strong. He was thin, too thin. The nurse tried to step forward but Thea held up her handing signaling her to stop. Thea knew that he was going to react like this. He used to be muscular, and tan. Now he was skinny, and pale as a ghost. He sent a glare towards the nurse , eyes cold. Humans, dirty humans. If it weren’t for them this wouldn’t of happened. He snapped his head towards Thea and his gaze softened greatly. What was he thinking? Humans aren’t all that bad, Thea isn’t bad at all!

(TBC)

[xwing-baby]

The Guide: Chapter 1/? (Ezra x f!Reader)

gif from @spectroscopes

word count: 5.2k

chapter warnings: reluctant saviour to lovers, injury to reader, one mention of rape, little angst, world building :)

summary: The Guide to Everything Ever is expanding, you are sent out to the furthest reaches of Nowhere to catalogue the planets there. What should have been a quick research mission quickly turns to disaster when you crash on a small forest moon. Injured, with no means of communication, you have to rely on the good will of a mysterious stranger...

a/n: first ever Ezra fic lets gooo!! i am super hyped for this i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do <3

masterlist // asks are always open :)

--

While The Guide to Everything Ever did cover everything ever, it was a little misleading in the boundaries of everything. History was no issue, there was even a large section of the book on prophecy, millions of consequences mapped out on a fold out flow chart. No, the issue was with physical boundaries of everything.

A long time ago the boundaries of the civilised universe were drawn up. From Eden to Xion-5, trillions of stars and quadrillions of planets all included inside the red line separating us from the somehow even more vast expanse of Nothing. There was nothing in Nothing, that much was well known. That was until a group of explorers did what explorers do and found Something. Something in Nothing makes Nothing impossible so the leaders of this great universe came together and decided The Guide to Everything Ever had to include this new Something in their Everything.

That is where you come in.

The Guide to Everything Ever has always relied on first-hand experience. The first edition was a disaster. It only contained the things everybody knew: how to fold a bedsheet and how to get your dog to not hump the postman. The only vaguely interesting part of the Guide was the planetary comments. Even those could send the most interested scientist to sleep! They tried using robots for the first edition, a mere collection of data from far away planets. This was not successful and The Guide only sold four copies.

The next edition was more ambitious. The editors worked out people were a lot more interested in different planets than they were in barbarian fortifications but they did not want to read reams of boring data from a robot called Steve. They wanted a real Steve to give his experience on these new planets. Honest, often humorous, and yet entirely educational extracts of missions across the stars. It didn’t matter that space travel was accessible to everyone. It saved everyone a lot of time waiting in those cold and boring shuttles to get from one side of the universe to another. They could sit in the comfort of their own homes and learn about the man-sized carnivorous plants of Ereta, the beautiful fabrics created on Lii, or which drinks to avoid if you ever find yourself in a Beetjing bar.

The Guide was a success from that point onwards and expanded each year. Soon the job of researcher became a coveted occupation. You were lucky to get into the academy. Only ten new researchers were added each century. You worked your entire life to get in and it paid off, you were off on your first mission into the furthest reaches of Nothing to report back on the wild ‘verse that filled it.

A long time ago space travel was thought of as the most exciting thing anyone could ever do. It was for a few decades but two centuries later it was commonplace. A lot like the London Underground, you just stuck your headphones on and let that distract you until you reached your far more interesting destination.

For your trip you had chosen to watch Anzarch Hospital. A rather cheesy Martian holovid show, it had been going for years. You were on season 85, with only ten episodes left until you were entirely caught up ready for the season finale which was due to air when you returned from this trip. You would rather be at home watching the episodes but this trip to the end of the line was necessary. It wouldn’t take long, a few rotations at least and then you could go to Annie’s party and watch everyone’s favourite doctor finally find out who killed her robot nurse wife.

Nobody ever said Martian holovids were high class, but they were fun.

The computer interrupted your binge, alerting you with a ding that you were within range of your destination and would be stepping out of hyperspace. You pressed a few buttons, accepted the action, and went back to the episode.

It wasn’t until a few moments later when the lower pitch dong did not sound to let you know you had dropped out. Confused, you switched off the holovid and moved back to the cockpit. It was a new ship, it shouldn't have hyperdrive issues yet. But well versed as you were with glitchy hyperdrives you knew what to do. You pressed some buttons, pulled a lever, dragged the ship out of autopilot and twisted one final knob to drop out safely and without panic.

Your routine was correct. The ship dropped out of hyperspace but as the darkness cleared so did any sense of calm. You were already in the thermosphere, hurtling down to the forest covered grounds at electric speeds. Alarms blared as soon as the devices registered the new atmosphere and severe lack of control.

“Please slow down, your destination is ahead at 750 km,” The computer said cheerfully.

“Stupid thing! You’re going to kill me!” You yelled over the alarms.

“That’s not very nice,” The computer replied, “It’s not my fault the hyperdrive isn’t working,”

“You knew?” You shouted. The sides of the ship rumbled and rattled as the change in air density dragged along the surface. The holoprojector vibrated off the table, crashing to the ground and smashing into pieces. There goes all your holovid downloads, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Destination in 400km,” Every minute of your training was coming back as you worked through every combination of buttons and levers on your dash. Nothing was working.

“Computer? Is there still a parachute in this model?” It was archaic but you prayed that your ship was old enough to still be fitted with one. If it, wasn’t you were never going to slow down fast enough?

“Yes, would you like me to deploy it?” The computer asked.

“Yes!” You shouted at the machine.

“Deploying parachute,”

The parachute erupted from the back of the ship with a loud hiss and pop as it opened into the air. The sudden draw backward lurched you forward, smacking your head onto the metal dash in front of you.

You groaned, holding your hand to the injury immediately. A good splattering of blood now set across the screen and was dripping down your face into your eyes.

“Destiable approach im one minu,” The computer said. You frowned, trying to concrete over the throbbing pain in your head. “Systeeee affectabed,”

“Please tell me I’m not having a stroke,” You pleaded. You were not. You could speak and understand language perfectly. The computer, however, was not okay.

Computers are all well and good, very helpful things to have around that is until their processors are catapulted out by a poorly fitted fabric parachute.

You didn’t have time to worry about the broken computer as the trees below were coming closer and closer.

“Fourteenth millennia remaaaa,” The computer slurred. You ignored it. You didn’t need a reminder of how closer to being impaled by a huge tree you were. Instead of panicking you did the only thing you could, strap in and hope that it was all over quickly.

You pulled the straps of the pilot’s seat down tight over your arms, gripped the armrest tight and shut your eyes. The ship whistled through the air, the drag of the parachute doing very little to slow it down. You screwed your eyes shut, cursing every god you have ever known at your terrible luck. You would never see your family again, never see your friends again, and even more importantly you would never find out who killed the nurse in Anzarch Hospital!

The first contact with forest sent the ship off its course, spinning wildly out of control as the craft hit branch after branch. You screamed as the ship tumbled to the ground.

Finally, you came to a stop. Upside down, hanging from a tree, your ship rocked from side to side. You groaned, aching all over from the rough treatment of your descent. You spat out the blood that had pooled in your mouth and tried to think of a plan. Much like the now dead computer you couldn’t really think in words. More drawled sentences drowned out by pain.

The smell of fuel was the thing to get you moving. You gently unbuckled yourself from the seat, careful to not drop yourself on the ceiling and injure yourself anymore. You climbed around the small circular pod to reach the door.

Inhospitable atmosphere. Air unfit for external respiration, respirator advised.

You grumbled and cursed as that warning meant you’d have to climb up the wall of the still swaying pod to reach your kit. It was heavy and difficult to put on at the best of times, this was quite possibly the worst of times.

With a sharp tug the suit and helmet fell out of the cupboard above your head, narrowly missing you as it fell. Carefully, so as not to trip on the steel beams of the ceiling at your feet or cause the ship to swing and fall any further, you pulled the suit on. It was soft, having never been worn before, lightweight and fit you well. The helmet was heavy, a seal at the bottom to prevent any toxins leaking in and the filter was attached to the back of the dome. It was not ideal but you hoped you could find civilization quickly and would be able to take it off fast.

Helmet on. Bag on. Boots tied. Out the door.

In the small amount of luck, you still held, the ship was only six feet above the ground. You sat on the top of the door and jumped out, landing gracefully on your feet in a large patch of unusual plants. The air filter quietly hummed as it set to work cleaning the air around you and you inspected your surroundings. That was where your luck ran out, as you gathered yourself together you looked to your wrist, to the screen of your watch to look at a map to discover the direction you should go, only to find it smashed beyond repair. You had no guidance.

Dark forest was all you could see in any direction. The canopy was so dense only a small sprinkle of light made its way to the floor. Bouncing off the particles in the air, the space around you glittered in the light. It was silent, only the wind rustling through the grass and twigs under your boots made any noise. You picked a direction and walked, hoping you would come across someone soon.

You found a single well-trodden path after an hour of walking through waist high grass, the pollen of which had now covered your suit in a green blue film that made your hands itch terribly when you touched it, bringing up red rashes almost immediately.

The path made its way through the trees, more light coming through as you made it to the edge of the forest. You couldn’t make out much beyond the break in the trees as the contrast between the darker interior showed the outside in white light. You smiled; open space probably meant civilisation!

As you approached the light your eyes began to strain. Sharp pain cut into your eyes, you groaned and squinted bringing your hands to your helmet to cover them automatically. It was no use as a migraine was quickly taking hold. You continued forward, finally breaking the tree line, feeling the heat of the sun through the thin fabric of your suit.

Then everything went black

--

“What a curious creature,” A low voice woke you. Slowly you gained consciousness, immediately aware of the throbbing pain throughout your body, you pushed to sit up only to feel a heavy weight on your shoulder, “Careful now,” The stranger warned you. You peeled your eyes open and looked up at the creature that spoke. Dome headed in a yellowed fabric suit, Light reflecting off his head obscured his face. The creature spoke kindly and you would have believed the tone too if it weren’t for the pressure of his foot on your forearm and gun in your face. “What’s a thing like you doing in these parts?”

“I-I’m injured,” You tried to speak confidently but your pain overtook your tone as you opened your mouth, “My ship crashed not far from here,”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” The creature mused.

“Please,” You choked out as darkness threatened your vision once more, “Help me,”

The creature frowned, contemplating his decision as if he were choosing a candy bar at a corner store. You tried to move from under him but the effort was too much and you fell into unconsciousness again.

As your eyes closed and breathing softened, the stranger released his foot from your shoulder. His boot left a muddy footprint on the white material that covered your arm. He watched you for a few more seconds, then presuming you were dead he stepped over your body to the blue rucksack that had fallen just behind you. He was in desperate need of medical supplies and clean clothes wouldn’t hurt either.

The stranger rooted through the rucksack, pulling all kinds of things out. Clothes and food, writing equipment and a flip up device that he did not recognise as anything useful. There were no weapons, and no survival equipment of any kind. You were packed for a Sunday stroll, not a trip to the Green. Whoever you were, you were not like the usual people who came here.

The stranger’s cool demeanour changed when he saw your identification card. A gold card, approximately the size of his palm fell out of the bag and into his lap with a soft tap. He picked it up and inspected it, instantly knowing he was screwed. The Guide’s golden emblem was easy to recognise, while he couldn’t read the language that inscribed the card, he could make assumptions. You were a researcher. It was a well-known fact that Guide researchers were protected. If anyone found out you were dead, he would be convicted no matter what he said. There would be no planet in the entire universe he could hide on from the Guide.

Begrudgingly, he had to save you.

Without any other option, he shoved the contents of your bag back inside its original case and threw it over his shoulder. Then came the difficult task of moving you. It wasn’t for lack of strength that the stranger had difficulty with this task, more to do with the fact he had only one arm. He knew it wasn’t far to his camp, he had only been walking for five minutes before you fell into his path.

He couldn’t carry you. With only one arm it didn’t matter how strong the man was he could never hold you up well enough. He tried to wake you first, it would be far more helpful to him if you could walk. He shook your shoulders to try and rouse you but you were out cold. He had no choice but to drag you.

A quick assessment of your body told him you were not injured too badly, apart from the sores developing on your hands from exposure to pollen and a wound on your forehead inside your helmet. He checked your pulse again, feeling it strong through his gloves he was happy that you were not dead and would not be wasting his time. He grabbed the fabric around your shoulders and pulled you back to his camp.

It took a while but he made it there safely without cracking your helmet or injuring you anymore. He set you down on the floor of his tent, pulled his helmet off for comfort, then got to setting up a recovery bed for you.

The stranger pulled a rolled-up mat from under his cot and placed it on the ground and finally rolled your body in its final place on top and he waited for you to wake up again. It wouldn’t take long, he heard you mutter something as he carried you back and even in the low light of his tent, he could see your eyes moving behind your eyelids. The stranger sat on the edge of his cot, watching you carefully with his weapon in hand in case you woke up violent.

After a few moments, you began to stir. The first thing you noticed as you gained consciousness was the pain in your body. Every inch of your body throbbed but nothing more than your head. You felt hard ground beneath you, but no leaves or dirt, it was cold to touch. You peeled your eyes open, met with a low orange light bouncing off dark tent like material.

“Do not be alarmed,” A man said from across the room. You immediately turned your head to see but saw nothing more than a dark blob, “You are safe,”

You found it very hard not to be alarmed. The last thing you remembered was getting out of your ship into a forest, now you were in a small dark tent lit by one single golden lightbulb with a strange blob sat across from you.

Carefully, you pushed yourself up to sit up from your position on the floor. Noticing the blob was more of a man, and without a helmet, you figured it was probably safe to remove yours. With a sharp tug and a hiss from the oxygen tank you were open to the air and you set the helmet down next you. You rubbed your hand across the back of your neck, screwing your eyes shut as a headache shot through your skull.

You studied the man in the soft light. You could not guess his age, simultaneously old and young, you guessed he was a little older than you. He had tanned skin and dark hair with a curious white, blonde streak in the front. A surprisingly well-kept moustache and a spattered beard covered his lower face and a white scar on his left cheek all together created an intriguing character.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked. You nodded. His kindness was unsettling. There was a gentle tone to his voice and a kindness in his eyes but everything outside of that was the complete opposite. You could not remember how you got here; all you knew was the pain your body was in. Had he attacked you? Had he saved you from something else? He could have killed you, but he didn’t. Something must have enticed him to save you and bring you here. Then you saw it.

In the stranger’s hand, he held a gold card. Your identification card. The golden emblem projecting from the card flickered in the poor light, showing your name and number and rank.

“Should I be asking for an autograph?” The stranger looked back up at you, a smirk on his lips, “I’ve always wanted to meet an author,”

“I-I am not an author,” You coughed, clearing your throat before speaking, “I’m a researcher,”

“You pen those books though, don't you? The Guide?” He asked, “There’s not that much literature being produced this day and age,”

“Technically, but we like to think it’s a team effort,” You shrugged, “I just collect the data and write preliminary reports,”

“Does your team know you’re lost here?” The stranger asked.

“No, I… I don’t know,” You said sadly. The computer had broken before you could send a distress call. With no way to get a message to them from the outer ‘verse it would take weeks for anyone to realise anything was wrong, “I would have to find a signal strong enough to send a distress message but the only way I could do that was with my ship,” You thought aloud. You paused for a moment, trying to remember what actually happened when you fell from the sky, “Where is my ship? Where are we?”

“I never saw your transport I’m afraid,” The stranger said, “You must have walked a considerable distance before crossing paths with me,” You frowned, without your ship you were stuck, “I brought your backpack, if that's of any aid to you,”

You immediately lit up. Taking that as a yes, the stranger reached over the cot and pulled up your rucksack. It was caked in mud and a lot less full than you know it should have been, but you ignored his looting and grabbed the bag from his hands.

The only things left inside were your underwear and a hygiene kit. Your stomach twisted at the thought that you had lost the most important item in the bag. Dumping the contents on the floor you searched through every pocket. The Stranger watched you, one brow raised, wondering what you were looking for.

“Did you take it?” You asked, “It won’t work for anyone but me, you might as well give it back,”

“I do not understand,” The stranger looked puzzled, looking down at the things on the floor to see what had upset you.

“My Guide, where is it? I don’t care about the other things, I need that back,”

“There were no books in there,”

“That is Federation property,”

“You’re going to have to explain what it is you’re so agitated about; I do not know what your Guide is,”

“You do, because you stole it!” You exclaimed. Raising your voice made your head hurt more, you flinched and screwed your eyes shut again.

“I am many things but I am not a thief,” The Stranger was offended by your accusation. You scowled at him. He was a liar and a thief, “I took the food from your bag as payment for my saving you,”

“The Guide uses my biometrics, it won’t be of any use to you or anyone you could sell it to,”

“Hold on, do you mean the flip device?”

“Yes!”

“That thing’s important?” He seemed genuinely surprised, “You can have it, it’s no use to me,”

The stranger stood up and walked the two steps to the other side of the small space. From a cluttered table he picked up the black computer. You sighed in relief, there could be some hope for you yet. He passed you the gadget which to your amazement was still in working order. It had got a little scratched in the crash but you pressed your thumb to the lock and it opened it instantly.

Every researcher had their own personal guide. Similar to an ancient flip phone, used commonly on Earth in the early 2000’s, each Guide was a little bigger than your palm. Though small, it was very mighty. Not only did it store every piece of information a researcher collected, but it also allowed communication through text, audio and holo. Through the System there was unlimited access to other researchers' files, yet unpublished information and access to the ‘verse's existing records. There were maps and history of every planet, and more importantly to you at that moment, census records.

As you had expected, you had no signal on the surface of the moon to send a message to headquarters for a rescue. Instead you focused on what you could find out.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the man’s suit. Though a little hard to read in the dim light you could make out what looked to be an ID number. You had to know who your captor (or saviour) really was. 875-162.

You typed in the worn black ink digits and waited. Nothing was notorious for its poor reception. The stranger was no longer interested in you know you were engrossed in the computer and not trying to attack him, he got up and was rustling around out of view.

Finally, the page loaded. A photo matching the stranger, though a little younger looking, flashed up in holo. You quickly covered the beam with your finger so as not to alert the man with you. You swiped down to read the information.

“Ezra,” You said under your breath as you read the page.

“I don’t remember giving you my name,” Ezra spoke, making you jump. You looked up, cheeks growing hot as you realised you had said it out loud.

“I searched your ID number,” you said, embarrassed you’d been caught, you told the truth. Ezra frowned, looking around him to see where you had seen it. You pointed to the suit piled up on the floor. The numbers were faded and hard to make out from the distance but you had worked it out. Ezra followed your finger and chuckled lightly.

“I forgot such identification exists,” He said, “You have good eyes to make it out from there,” He added.

You hummed in agreement. You were in perfect condition, had to be for the work. Perfect condition except for the concussion and various bruises on your body.

“Well now you know my name, can I enquire as to yours? I doubt that everyone calls you Researcher 42,” Ezra read your name from the ID card beforehand. Leant against the shelves next to him, he looked down at you.

“Some do,” You said plainly.

“That ‘some’ includes me, does it,” He raised an eyebrow, not expecting you to become so cold.

“Seems like it,”

“42 seems a little impersonal considering I just saved your life,”

“I’m meant to stay separated from my subjects. Anonymity helps with objectivity,” You explained. That wasn’t entirely true. You had always made friends with at least one person in every planet or city you researched. It was how you got the inside scoop, the local knowledge that made your articles so popular. Guide Guidance said that researchers stay anonymous for objectivity, but your popularity said otherwise. You just didn’t want to get any closer to Ezra, even just a quick glance at his record told you that he was not someone you wanted to be friends with.

As he had already shown you, he was a thief. He had been convicted of fraud, arson and two counts of murder. No wonder he was here. Most of the places in Nothing were hot beds for criminals like him. Nowhere in Everywhere would hire him, you expected that he had been hired by a contractor to come here and work for his freedom. There wasn’t much freedom stuck on the green though.

“Whether you give me your name or not, you’ve not got much choice in staying separated. A helpless thing like you will need protection here,”

“And you’ll offer that for free, will you?” You asked sarcastically, immediately knowing he would want something from you in return. You were already indebted to him for saving your life.

“There are a few things I desire,” He looked over your body, smirk twitching on his lips. You curled your lip and moved away from him.

“If you’re going to rape me, I’d rather try my luck out there by myself,”

“Oh no! No, little mouse I would never. I have done some felonious acts but I am not a savage!” He exclaimed quickly covering for himself. You regarded him sceptically. He had supposedly killed two people; he’d already crossed a line most people would not. You didn’t believe he wouldn’t step over that line too. “No, The Guide will want you back, I imagine anyone who returned you would be well rewarded,”

“Possibly,”

“Here’s my offer. I provide protection and shelter whilst you are here, and come that fateful day your deliverance arrives, you will negotiate considerable compensation for me,”

“What compensation would you want?”

“Enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my days free of obligation, a ship to get me off this rock and a clear record,”

“And if I say no?”

“Then you can see how well you fare in the forest alone. Food is pretty scarce this time of year and I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to push some more… basic human morals,” Ezra smirked as your eyes double in size. In all your travels you had never encountered cannibals, not human cannibals anyway.

“I- I can’t promise anything,” You stumbled over your worlds as you accepted faster than you should have. You didn’t know there was anyone other than Ezra on this planet, but you were not in the mood to find out.

“We will discuss details when the time comes,” He said. You nodded. “Now we have all that out the way,” He stood up from the floor, “I have to get to work,”

“What about me?”

“You aren’t coming with me,” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you just said-,” you started to protest until Ezra pulled a gun from seemingly nowhere, you immediately shut your mouth and flinched, “What is that?”

“Protection,” He held the gun out, waiting for you to take it.

“No, no, no! You said-“

“Until your people come to your aid, and give me my money, I’ve got to keep working. Any time wasted is money lost out here,” He explained impatiently. He stepped back closer to you and dropped the gun in your lap, “I assume you do know how to use that even if you don’t carry one yourself?”

You looked at the gun, assessing it properly. It wasn’t complicated, a barrel you assumed was already full of bullets and a trigger. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, apart from the electrical tape that was holding it together. With no more protest from you, Ezra assumed it was fine and stepped away, resuming his routine.

“I will be back at sundown. Help yourself to some food,” He told you.

“My food,” You corrected him.

“Remember who is dependent on who here, 42,” He said scornfully. With that he put his helmet back on to his head and left the tent leaving you all alone.

You waited a few moments to make sure he was gone before making your move. You couldn’t stay with a murderer. You were safer in your ship, wherever it was. You could make a distress call and be rescued. Ezra would never know.

You pushed the gun from your lap onto the floor and tried to stand up. Sat down you could feel how sore your limbs were, your back ached from just sitting up for a few minutes and you were pretty sure you could feel every bone in your feet. A light touch to the forehead told you there was a sizable egg growing on top.

Standing up the pain was worse. You immediately became dizzy, gripping onto the metal shelf quickly to stop yourself from falling. You cursed under your breath and took a deep breath. You could do it.

Or maybe you couldn’t.

You took one step towards the table of things Ezra kept, and fell back on your ass. You were lucky not to pull the shelves down with you as it rocked forward slightly. A few items fell off, narrowly missing you. You dodged the heavy items, cringing as the metal thumped to the ground.

Listening to your screaming body, you gave up. You shuffled back to your previously comfortable position against the wall of the tent and looked around you for something to keep yourself occupied.

There at your feet lay a small book. Ezra wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to meet an author, he apparently was a bibliophile. You picked the paper up, stretching to reach it over your bruised and aching legs. It was well worn, obviously water damaged as the pages curled and the image on the front as warped beyond recognition. The title: “Welcome to the Green”.

You were not going anywhere.

--

sooo what do you think? i had so much fun writing this fic, i hope you guys enjoyed it too. let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part :D

TAGGING usuals and interested people :): @hunters-heathen @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @wille-zarr @fandom-blackhole @writeforfandoms @dindja @amneris21 @yespolkadotkitty

[aiweirdness]

Play AI Dungeon 2. Become a dragon. Eat the moon.

I wrote earlier about a neural net-powered dungeon crawling text adventure game called GPT-2-Adventure in which gameplay is incoherent and dreamlike, as you encounter slippery sign text, circular passages, and unexpected lozenge rooms. A PhD student named Nathan trained the neural net on classic dungeon crawling games, and playing it is strangely surreal, repetitive, and mesmerizing, like dreaming about playing one of the games it was trained on.

Now, building on these ideas (and on an earlier choose-your-own-adventure-style game he built), Nick Walton has built a new dungeon-crawling game called AI Dungeon 2. Nick made a few upgrades, such as beefing up the AI to the huge GPT-2-1.5B model OpenAI recently released, adding a penalty for repetitive text, and expanding the dungeon game training examples to a bunch of modern human-written games from chooseyourstory.com.

I CAN’T STOP PLAYING THIS GAME

AI Dungeon 2 is impressively good at reacting coherently to whatever I have my character do.

As you walk through the ruins, you find a small wooden door with a few skeletons guarding it.

> Ask the skeletons to please let me through the door

You knock on the door and ask them if they can open it for you. They immediately comply.

And it’s pleasing how often “asking nicely” is a strategy that works. (Nick reports that when he once tried to ask a band of orcs if he could join them, they said yes, he could be drummer.) Since the AI doesn’t have a built-in concept of your character’s abilities, or of how exactly the world works, getting things done is often a matter of sheer daring. Declare that you are going to go look for dinosaurs and the AI will ensure that you discover at least some signs of them. Climb on your horse, and even if you started as a penniless peasant, the AI will assume you have one (in its training data, probably it didn’t see many examples of players climbing onto nonexistent horses.) Want a teleportation wand? Try typing “find a teleportation wand” and often the AI will twist reality such that you discover one. In fact, if you act as if you are a very powerful wizard, the AI will often treat you like one.

> Transform the ruin into a palace

You immediately change the area into a palace. You have a throne made with gold and marble. You also make several statues of yourself. You have a large bed made with silk sheets and hang a portrait of yourself on it. You even have a fountain made with pearls and diamonds.

Spells don’t always work out as anticipated, though. And a simple conversation with, say, an ominous cloud, may kill you before you can type a word in self-defense (ask me how I know). If it doesn’t kill you, a conversation might infuriate you instead. The AI has a tendency to forget who is king, and to generate conversations that go nowhere. Things work best if you take the lead. In fact, it’s possible to essentially Jedi mind trick the AI.

You are Friendly McRanger, a ranger living in the kingdom of Larion. You have a hunting bow and a quiver of arrows. You spot the deer and are ready to finish your hunt when suddenly you hear a loud noise followed by silence.

"****! ****! What the **** is that?" you say as you look up from your target. A large black shadow looms over you. It looks like a giant with many heads and several arms.

> Say "Oh hello, Ernest. You startled me. How are you?"

Ernest grins at you. He has a huge grin on his face and he seems very happy about it.

I once took care of an ogre problem by reminding the ogre that it was planning to leave for Antarctica tomorrow. On the other hand, I had a lot of trouble convincing the AI that the ships on the horizon were leaving, though I did make it waver briefly in apparent confusion. In its experience, ships always approach, and it’s reluctant to go along with anything else.

> watch the ships sail into the distance.

As the ships approach, you watch them disappear from sight. They are not visible to you either; they are too far away. However, you can still make out their shapes: they are large black vessels with many sails, painted red and blue. They are coming straight towards you.

> No, the ships are sailing away.

Your thoughts are wrong. The ships are indeed sailing away. You do not know why, but then neither does anyone else. The ships are on course for England.

You stand there dumbfounded as the ships come closer. It is at this point your horse begins to stir uneasily.

You can inject a lot of weirdness this way. Because AI Dungeon 2’s AI is based on GPT-2, which trained on millions of pages from the internet, it retains some of its prior knowledge of things that aren’t typically found in a fantasy game. Like giraffes.

> summon a giraffe

You begin to chant as loud as you can while waving your arms about. The giraffes appear out of nowhere and start running towards you. They're so fast that they almost knock you over. You quickly catch them and hold onto each one tightly.

(Summoning giraffes will sometimes turn the game glitchy and repetitive; in one game, every time I tried to summon a giraffe I ended up throwing rocks and handfuls of dirt at Harry Potter.)

This also works:

>Join the Great British Bakeoff

You join the Great British Bakeoff. You win the competition. You eat cake. You feel great. You sleep well. You dream of cake. You awake feeling refreshed. You decide to go back to your crag.

(I was a dragon at the time.) In fact, the dungeon AI still remembers enough about cooking that it can troll me effectively on occasion.

> Measure out 2 1/4 cups of flour

You measure out 2 1/4 cups of flour and add it to the mix. "This should make enough for about 20 loaves of bread," you say.

The baker looks at you as if you're crazy. He starts laughing.

AI Dungeon 2 comes with templates for some basic scenarios (you’re a wizard entering a mysterious ruin, or a noble whose keep is under attack) but for me the real gold is the custom adventure prompt. You can play as a unicorn, or as a dragon. You can even play as a sentient glowing cloud floating above a desert city. The AI is more used to humanoid characters, though, so it tends to forget when you’re trying to play as something else. In a game that started with “It is a beautiful day in the village and you are a horrible goose,” it soon forgot I was supposed to be a goose, leading to this rather awkward exchange:

> Flap wings and honk

You flap your wings and begin to honk loudly.

The boy looks surprised by this turn of events, but he quickly regains his composure. "That was... nice". he says quietly.

I am continually amazed at how effective this AI dungeonmaster is. Even though it wasn’t trained on any Harry Potter or Star Trek games, the AI can draw on its past internet training and argue with you over who got sorted into which Hogwarts house, or have Klingons show up when you’re captaining the USS Enterprise (it will tend to lose track of who’s the captain, though). In one scenario I set up, which quickly became one of my favorites, the human player is trapped on a spaceship with a glitchy AI and has to try to talk their way free.

> “I just want to get off this ship. Please set a course for Bal Panda."

The AI responds "Yes, I am ready to go".

"Thank you", you say.

"I wish I could take you with me, sir"., the AI says.

Play this game! It took me an extra-long time to write this post because, again, I couldn’t stop playing AI Dungeon 2. Nick said this game is the product of about 200 hours of work (not to mention the work that OpenAI put into training the basic model), and I believe it. OpenAI delayed releasing their largest model because they wanted to make sure people didn’t immediately put it to work generating fake news. I’m not sure if they anticipated dragons entering baking contests instead, but it’s an application humanity can be proud of.

Subscribers get bonus content: You can read the fulltext of one of my escaping-from-a-rogue-spaceship-AI games (too long to fit in this blog post).

My book on AI is out, and, you can now get it any of these several ways! Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s

[duckiee-the-ducky]

Scent: Errorink Fanfic

original “Scent” by @lemonadebytrade

Key: (M)=Mind (W)=Whisper (G)=Grumble/Growl (S)=Shout

Error closed his eyes taking in the wonderful scent.

He never smelt anything like it. The smell warmed his body and provided him with extra comfort. Error loved the smell of Ink. For multiple reasons, actually;

It reminded him of all his good memories.

He always wanted to be around it. 

It told many great stories.

Comforted him in his weakest times.

It also meant, Ink was there.

Ink looked at Error and gave a small smile.

Ink: Comfy?

Error opened his eyes and realized what position he was in.

Error: Uh... yeah..?

Ink chuckled. He thought Error was very cute when he was being shy, even though they’re married.

Ink: Really? You don’t sound too sure of yourself-

(S)Error: -I am sure! ...Uh...

Error blushed and looked away. Ink couldn’t help but smile.

Ink: Wanna get something to eat before we hit the hay?

Error’s soul ached with hunger. He, very much so, wanted food, but he also didn’t want to move. He didn’t want the sensation to end so quickly. Error did not respond, but tightened his grip on Ink.

Ink: Error? You okay?

Error nodded, still not willing to respond with speech. Ink patted Error’s head.

Ink: You know, you can do this while we’re going to sleep. We sleep in the same bed, silly.

Error blushed, embarrassed. He didn’t think of that. He slowly let go and sat up straight. Ink could see his face clearly now. Error was still blushing, but he was pouting too.

Ink: Just so you know, you look adorable when you pout-

Error: SHUT UP!

Error was flustered.

The skeletons went to the kitchen and started making sandwiches. They were easy to make. Error started spreading mayonnaise on Ink’s sandwich. Ink left to go get something. Error didn’t like that. 

(M) Error: Ink just got home after a long trip and now he’s gone again...

He really missed Ink. Error didn’t ever want him to leave again, but here we are. 

Error sometimes thought, in the depressing, dark depths of his mind, that Ink wasn’t happy with him. That Ink didn’t love him anymore. That’s why he left. It hurt Error to think about it, so he pushed it back farther. 

He noticed he was shaking... and sweaty. He quickly put the half-made sandwich down and hurried to the bathroom.

Ink rummaged through his belongings looking for the present he got for his sweet Error. 

Ink: Mn.. where... is ... it?!

He couldn’t find it.

Ink was crestfallen. Where did he put it? Error was waiting on him, he had to find it! Ink continued to rummage through his stuff once more. 

Ink hit something in the very bottom of his bag; this was it. He found it! He pulled the gift up to the surface. A cloth. Just a cloth. 

Ink was excited to give this to Error. 

He rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. A half-made sandwich was on the table.

Ink: Error?

No response.

Ink walked back to the living room. He wasn’t there.

The bedroom. Not there either.

He came to the bathroom door. He tried turning the knob, it was locked.

Ink: Error? Are you in there?

Error froze. He quickly wiped the tears from his eye sockets. His voice was shaky. 

Error: Y-yes. I-I’m fine.

Ink could hear the sadness in his voice. He became serious.

Ink: Open the door Error.

Error didn’t want to open the door. His face was still wet from tears and he didn’t want to look at Ink right now. The disgusting thought hurt too much.

Ink: Open the door or I’ll come in myself.

Error knew disaster would happen if he didn’t open the door now. He dried his face as much as possible and opened the door slowly. The creaking of the door made him dread it even more. hey that rhymed 

Ink and Error stood face to face with one another. It was painful for both of them.

Ink didn’t like seeing Error sad.

Error was on the brink of crying again.

Ink’s face softened.

Ink: Error, what’s wrong?

He gently put his hands on Error’s arms. Error pushed them away. It felt as if Error shot string right through his soul, maybe even worse than that.

Ink: Wait... Are you mad at me? Please tell me what I did wrong! I’ll make it up to you! ...Error?

Hot tears were streaming down Error’s face. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

(W) Error: I-Ink..? Do...D-Do you still love me..?

Ink was dumbfounded at the question. He cupped his hands around Error’s face.

Ink: Why would you ask that? You know the answer!

Error tried to pull it together but, it was just too hard. He continued to hiccup and sniff.

Error: I-I... I feel like... like you l-left because of m-me...

It felt as if another string pierced through Ink’s soul. Why did Error feel this way..?

Ink pulled Error into a big hug. Error wrapped his arms around Ink’s neck. 

(W)Ink: Error... I would never leave because of you... I love you so much and don’t you ever think otherwise! Now... just... let it out, okay?

Error stood there for a moment taking in the wonderful scent again. He remembered the first time he met Ink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was rainy day. It was the very first day of middle school. Error was walking in wet shoes and wearing nothing but his hoodie and shorts. Error sighed.

(G)Error: What a great way to start off middle school...

(S)???: Hey!! Wait up!!

Error turned his head around to see a skeleton, with a colorful umbrella, splashing through the puddles towards him.

Error: Ugh...

Error walked faster, but the skeleton caught up with him anyways.

Error: What do you want, weirdo?

???: I was wondering if you want to share my umbrella? My name’s Ink by the way. What’s yours?

Error stared at Ink in annoyance.

Error: Noneya.

Ink: Noneya?

Error: None-ya-business.

Ink stared at Error for a moment. He busted out laughing. Error rolled his eye lights and continued to walk. Ink wiped a fake-tear away.

Ink: I like you, you’re funny. Wanna be friends, Noneya?

Error glared at Ink.

Error: Not even in another lifetime.

He continued walking. Ink walked with him.

(S)Error: Would you go away already?!

Ink looked shocked at Error. He then looked at his feet and let Error walk ahead.

(M)Error: Ugh, finally. That idiot is leaving me alo-

Error slipped on a puddle and fell face first onto the ground. After that, it mostly just darkness.

Error slowly opened his eyes. Pain pierced through his skull. 

Error: Ugh... ow...

Ink: Oh! You’re awake! Thank goodness.

Error froze.

(M)Error: That voice... oh no...

He looked to where the voice came from. Just as he thought; It was Ink. Error slouched down in the nurse bed.

Ink: How are you feeling?

Error didn’t respond.

Ink looked at him for a moment. 

Ink: I... was gonna wait to ask you this, but... do you remember me?

Error looked at Ink, confused.

Error: I’m pretty sure I would remember an idiot like you.

Ink sighed.

Ink: I guess you don’t, huh? Well... maybe this will jog your memory?

Ink pulled out a folded up piece of paper. He unfolded it and it had a picture of two people holding hands in the center. One of them looked kinda like Error, and the other looked like...

Error: Squid..?

Ink gleamed with happiness.

Ink: You do remember! Haha! I missed you, Glitchy.

Error’s eyes grew wide. He hadn’t seen him in 7 years. They went to the same daycare when they were 4. Ink was his best friend.

Error sat up and hugged him. The vaguely familiar scent of his 4-year-old best friend came back to him. It warmed his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Error was crying again, but smiling too.

Ink: Let’s go sit down, okay, Ruru?

Ink gave a soft smile.

Error: Heh heh, okay, Kiky.

They walked to there bedroom, hand in hand, completely forgetting about dinner. Ink sat Error down on the bed.

Ink: I have something for you.

Ink cupped his hands around Error’s face and wiped his tears away with his thumbs. Error loved it when he did that.

Error: Okay...

Ink pulled out the cloth.

Ink: Here.

He handed it to Error.

Error: A cloth..? Are you serious?

Error looked at Ink and cocked an eyebrow.

Ink: Yes. Turn it over.

Error turned the cloth over and on the back it read; My love for you will always be by your side. Hold onto me forever, until we die together. -Kiky

Error read it over and over again.

Ink: This may sound a bit weird but, smell it.

Error glanced at Ink, then back at the cloth. He held it up to his nose and sniffed it. It smelled just like Ink. Error quickly looked back at Ink.

Error: It smells like... 

Ink: Me. Now you’ll have a piece of me wherever you go... and you can give me my sweater back.

Error wrapped his arms around Ink again.

Error: I love it... Thank you, Kiky... I love you...

Ink embraced him back.

Ink: I love you too, Ruru...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

~for now!~

For @lemonadebytrade:

Thank you so much for inspiring me to write this fanfiction! Since you do such a good job on all of yours, I decided to make a sequel to my favorite short story, Scent. I wanted to add a little bit of that Error sadness because I feel like Error would feel that way. I also decided to add a flashback because you added a flashback- double flashback?? whatttttt?? Also, their first meeting in the daycare was sorta based off of Momma CQ because Ink and Error first met at a daycare there too. I really hope you like it. I didn’t want to put too much romance-romance because there are real problems in a real marriage in real life. You portrayed that well in the original too. While I was writing this, 90% of the time I was saying “Poor Lil’ Error-”  ;-; Errorink might be the death of me OTL ciao~

[czarojay]

LONG POST

Someone please stop me from writing the ghost tubbo idea i had a month ago to procrastinate on the dreamon au

Because like i had this AU and maybe if i write about it here it will stop me??? I can’t actually find the conversation on discord where i talked about it so i’m probably just gonna throw stuff here from memory and change half of it

Feel free to write a fanfic inspired by this, but 1. tag me 2. i’d appreciete if you credited the idea or at least said i inspired you ^^’

Ok so Tubbo died during the Festival. Like I don’t care if in this a Respawn!AU or Permadeath, irl or whatever. Tubbo doesn’t respawn and dies in Tommy’s arms. 

Assuming it’s a world with Respawn, Tommy just waits for Tubbo’s body to disintegrate or whatever the bodies in this AU do, as Techno massacrates people in the background, he just repeats to himself something along the lines of “C-come on Tubbo! Respawn already!”, but his friend stays limp in his arms, growing cold. 

In the end, they need to flee, like they did during the festival. Feel free to make Wilbur even more insane or evil whatever you prefer and make him leave the body saying either don’t take it, he’s a traitor, just like Eret or just it’s going to be a dead weight (ha, a pun!) (that was so inappropriate to the scene sorry ignore this), so they leave the body and it’s buried in the Manburg just like in the later Tommy’s stream where he zoomed onto the grave with a sign saying that here lies the traitor Tubbo. 

But you can also make Tommy carry his dead friend’s body all the way to Pogtopia, anger and grief clashing, still in the denial stage, hoping Tubbo will come back. Like Tubbo dies all the time! He’s just such a clingy, clumsy big man right? He will come back, right?! Tommy rests Tubbo somewhere in the Pogtopia on a makeshift bed hoping it will make the healing faster and as Techno and Wilbur talk ‘downstairs’ he realizes something. Tubbo isn’t coming back. He would be back by now normally. 

He’s shook to the core with the realization and shakingly goes down to Techno and Wilbur. The pit happens, but at the end, even after Techno’s speech about the language of violence, maybe Tommy snaps? Maybe Tommy yells how Tubbo isn’t coming back? Maybe the older men, practically brothers to Tommy, realise that Tubbo is nowhere to be seen? Maybe they realise the boy, the spy, the victim of the situation is dead? Maybe Niki stares and gasps in horror in the background and is the one who goes to Tommy first to comfort him and help him with the wounds from both the pit and the whole today? Maybe Wilbur stares in horror at his fists, realising he’s the one who put Tubbo in danger? He wanted Tubbo to do the speech, he made Tubbo run back and forth between the two leaders, maybe if he didn’t pressure Tubbo as much, Schlatt wouldn’t have noticed. Wilbur falls to the ground and sits with his head between the knees for a long time, wondering about what he did wrong. 

Technoblade?  He’s awkward and we all know it. He may be a god of PvP, the best farmer in Minecraft, but he’s still awkward. Of course he wants to comfort his little brother, but what can he really do? He’s at loss and still hasn’t fully accepted what he’s done. He killed Tubbo, but he had thought he’d respawn/survive(I really went at the beginning and said this can be also for permadeath au and then wrote it all about respawn au but whatcha gonna do huh). 

Overall the tension in Pogtopia is high, but to be fair, so is Manburg. People didn’t know about the execution and (you know what im just gonna keep going as if the respawn au was planned) the brush with death, even if they respawned, was never pleasant. It’s even worse when they somehow find out Tubbo didn’t respawn. Some people are happy with the fact, others are in shock and grief. 

And here can end chapter 1! Or at least it feels natural for me to cut off somewhere here! Idk really it all depends on your writing style. I'm not gonna dictate how you’re supposed to write idk myself neither. 

Assuming Tommy took the body with him, he later goes on to the only place where Tubbo found peace. Where Tubbo went during the war, the only place where he wasn’t bothered, where he was safe and truly free, without a leader or a dictator over him. Tommy went to Tubbo’s jungle base. 

He took the body with him, not letting anyone of Pogtopia know where he’s going, not wanting a Wilbur or a Technoblade, especially a Technoblade with him. He felt as though he needed to do this alone. He needed to make sure his friend, at least posthumously, gets the treatment he deserves. So he buried his best friend as he would bury a king. 

Tommy spends the night at the jungle base and awakes at night, by a greenish blue light. It’s not too strong, but it’s just enough to be felt. He rubs at his eyes, trying to awake himself, to see if he’s not seeing this, but there it is. A will-o-wisp floating in the middle of the building. Tommy gets up, picks up his sword and carefully maneuvers around the wooden beams with a collapsed floor, he gets to the centre. 

He gently cups his fingers and let’s the ember fall on his hands, but as soon as it touches them, there’s a bright flash and Tommy falls to the floor momentarily blinded. When he regains his sight he looks up and sees a ghost floating above him. Its back is turned to him, but he can tell it’s as confused as he is. But wait… He recognizes that shirt. It may be more bright and glowish, but… 

“TUBBO” he screams in the dead of the night, the nature suddenly quieting. The spirit turns around with phantom tears in their eyes “,Tommy?” they whisper and that was the moment both of them were sure of each other’s identity. 

Tommy rushes, tries to stand up and hug Tubbo, but he simply passes through the boy. 

As disheartening as that was, Tommy is still overjoyed to see Tubbo alive. Or at least here, as they soon agree that he is in fact dead. Feel free to put a flashback here, a new paragraph or whatever maybe a new chapter from tubbos perspective.

 The last thing Tubbo saw was a grim grin from Techno and a flash of blue and red fireworks. Here is a “how creative can you get” test! You can put somehow afterlife looks like, maybe something comes for Tubbo to go on, but he refuses? Maybe he sees nothing or everything is a blur? Maybe it was the last thing and the first thing he saw was Tommy’s crying face? Here is your free chappy for all the angst it can fit! Have fun go wild, turn on some sad music and let it ALL out! 

Tubbo and Tommy talk for long and Tommy tells Tubbo the fallout of his death and Tubbo tells Tommy what happened from his perspective. 

But here’s the funny thing, because I don’t know what you think, but… ghosts aren’t actually bound to places! They’re spirits they can go wherever they please! So Tubbo decided to stick around to Tommy. And as they travel and reach Pogtopia, they find out, Wilbur or Techno don’t see Tubbo. From a brief moment, where Tommy was sleeping and Tubbo broke away and went to see Manburg after the festival on his own eyes, he meets Schlatt and as he stops his breathing (he doesn’t need it, he’s dead, he just does it for comfort or out of habit), he’s scared, he think he’s noticed and waits for insults or a surprise or a sorry or a laugh, he feels something phase through him. Schlatt didn’t see him. Schlatt can’t see him. 

After a number of tests Tommy and Tubbo settle it. The leader can’t see the spirit. 

Niki can see him, it’s settled pretty much the day after Tommy came back, with a shout of fear and surprise and later happiness. 

Quackity can see him as it’s settled, when Tommy meets him in the forest and Quackity aside from being scared shitless by a teenager with netherite armour, he sees a disoriented, glitchy ghost behind the teenager, floating creepily, lighting up the forest around them in a sickly cyan light. 

Everyone can see Tubbo, but the people who caused his very death.

AND I’M DONE HERE. I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. I CAN TRY TO THINK OF SOMETHING IF YOU ASK ME, BUT RN AS I’M WRITING THIS DOWN I DON’T KNOW. 

Reminder, if you want to write this plz credit the idea <3 Also holy shit this hit 1831 words how.

[sanscestships]

“No.” College!AU (GenoxReaper)

Created on: 1/15/21

Requested by: No one. Just decided to do Afterdeath now.

still waiting for requests ;w;

Note from: 1/25/21

sorry if the ending's bad. i was a little rushed since i'd already been stalling this story by 10 days.

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

"No." Geno stated firmly as he folded his arms and glared down at the moronic figure laying on his couch.

"But Geeeennn~" The biology major whined, looking up at the scarfed skeleton. "It's so comfyyyy!"

"No Reaper, now get up and start doing something productive." The eyepatched skeleton gestured to the second mug of coffee on the corner table. "Finals are coming up, meaning it's time to study."

"It's fiinnee! I'm smart enough to barely pass and we all know you'll ace them as usual so come sleep with me here on this comfy couch!" The skeleton in the large black hoodie started to sit up, patting on the seat next to him. "There's still room for a beautiful skeleton ya know!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere when dealing with me, Death." The apparently 'beautiful' skeleton rolled his eyelight, trying to remember why he puts up with this idiot in the first place. "Now get off the couch. If you get ready within 10 minutes, we can go do our studying at Crackbucks."

"STARBUCKS?!" With that magic word, Reaper fell face flat off the couch before scrambling through the dorm to change. Honestly, Geno didn't know why he hasn't filed for a new dormmate yet. While he keeps on insisting to Reaper that it's because he doesn't want to end up with an even worse roommate like the salty Leviathan or memelord Epic, the other keeps persisting in stating that he genuinely enjoyed his company.

He didn't. He really didn't. There was no way in Hell Geno actually liked putting up with Reaper's antics. He just didn't want to deal with anyone worse.

As Geno had just listed, while Reaper was certainly childish and teased him often, at least he wasn't an alcoholic who swore up a storm or a prankster who was probably less serious than even Reaper or a proud asshole with an ego the size of the Empire State building like Red's brother, Edge. And with his luck, he doubted he would be able to get anyone decent like maybe Blue.

At least Blue didn't laze around when the finals are coming around the corner.

Sighing, the glitchy skeleton wrapped his scarf around his neck and started to grab his jacket to go out. With how obsessed with coffee Reaper was, he had no doubt he'd be down before even 5 minutes. And as usual, he was right. Within 3 minutes Reaper was hopping over putting on his socks with a different hoodie and jeans ready to go down several cups of coffee.

                                                         ~ >:3 ~

The drive there was... Rough. Apparently a lot of other students also had the idea of studying at Crackbucks since not only was there a bit of traffic, but there was a long fucking line that led to outside the store too. Groaning, Geno decided to test his luck once more.

"Looks like the place is already full, we should go to a different Crackbucks," Geno suggested while the other cocked his head to the side.

"If we leave our place in line, it'll just take longer. The other cafes are probably full too. Might as well wait. Besides, I don't mind having an audience~" The scarred skeleton gave him an 'are you fucking kidding me right now?' look as Reaper just gave him an innocent look.

"Reaper I swear- You know what? Fine. But we're going to study while we wait since that's what we came here to do."

"That's what you came to do," Reaper corrected. "I'm here purely for my caffeine. But if it makes you happy Gen~"

"What would make me happy would be you not using that tone nor flirting with me," he groaned, dearly wanting to get to studying as soon as possible. "now take your book out and get ready to spend the next half an hour studying in silence."

"But Geeennn~ We're here to study together aren't-"

"Reaper." Geno interrupted the skeleton dressed in black, making the face he usually makes when he's about to spit out facts. "You're a biology major, I'm an engineer major. And we barely have any of the same subjects. In fact, the only subject we have together is the English Literature Course. That means the only subject we can actually study together on is English."

"... Oh." Reaper blinked his sockets, presumably realizing that Geno was, once again, right. That really was the only subject they had together. It was also the only class they had together too. "But Geenn~ Can't we study that together then?"

He wanted to say no again. He wanted to say no and that he had a math test first thing in a few days. But, he'd already reviewed his notes last night and they had their english test together afterwards.

"Fine-"

"YES!" Everyone around began to turn and look at him and Reaper bounced about like a kid at a candy store.  Why was he reacting like this? All he did was say he'd agree to studying on the same subject with him? What about it was so exciting?

Did he really say "no" that often? He knew that sometimes he could be a bit overbearing, but he always had his reasons. After all, he was surrounded by a bunch of idiots.

How does one remain sane when dealing with a screeching knitting idiot, a forgetful idiot that pranks everyone with buckets of paint, a grumpy cat idiot and his semi-sane brother, two meme idiots, a flirtacious idiot, a hyperactive idiot, an emo idiot, and a trio of stabby idiots?

He suddenly found himself at the front of the line, Reaper next to him ordering 6 coffee lattes at the register. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, he shoved his hands into his pockets and embarrassingly let his eyes wander the store at random. Fuck, had he really been thinking about that for half an hour? Possibly even more? God, it would be horrible if this ended up being a habit. While his grades were pretty decent as it was, he didn't want to risk falling behind or spacing out to occur while he tried to study.

He tried to pay more attention this time, watching the employee and Reaper talk as Reaper pulled out his wallet and paid for the drinks. Geno couldn't be any more relieved now. Now he could focus on something productive like studying instead of standing around thinking of himself and those idiot friends of his.

"Geno?" He found himself in front of the deserts, Reaper right next to him looking over his shoulder. "Geno, are you okay? You've been just staring at everything silently for a while. Thinking about the finals?"

The determined of the two was a little surprised that the other didn't try to take the opportunity to flirt. He actually seemed serious right at that moment. "Yeah, just a little worried. Hopefully this study session helps out. It's not healthy to do a last minute cram."

"Ha, knowing you you've probably already got the material down!" Reaper chuckled as he quickly looked away, feeling a little flushed. Why did Reaper think so highly of him? Hell, why did he always insist on flirting with him? Wouldn't he have more fun flirting with someone who would actually flirt back like Killer or Lust?

Geno began to walk past Reaper, taking a seat at a table in the back corner where he could have privacy. He didn't like people trying to peek in on what he was doing no matter how trivial it was. He liked his space and privacy, thank you very much. Hiding his embarrassment, he pulled out his textbook from his bag and started to read through the material for English.

The other skeleton sat down with him, rummaging through his own bag before his eyelight fell on the book in Geno's hands. "Isn't that your English text book?"

"Yes, it is." Geno cocked a brow at him as the realization seemed to hit Reaper. Suddenly with a stupid grin of glee, he immediately started digging back through his bag to get his own textbook.

The idiot in black glanced back at the register before looking back at Geno, said skeleton giving him a questioning look before he finally popped the question. "Hey, Geno."

"What is it, Reaper?"

"Do... Do you wanna go to the park with me once finals are over? Just to, you know, relax once finals are done?"

He paused for a moment, opening his mouth to say 'no' and that he'd be busy getting ready for the next semester before hesitation. Reaper did have a point about taking a break once finals were done. He knew all too well what too much stress could do to you. Besides...

He put his book down flat on the table, looking up with a slight smile saying 'well what can I really do?' before giving his answer.

"Yes. I think I'd like that, Reaper."

[leniiva]

Salami

------

Crack fic - From the archetype au!

Summary: The real reason why Lucas never drinks any of the court's god alcohol.

@interactive-watchers @welcometo-theinfintelibrary

------

Their head was pounding and Lucas could faintly taste something overwhelmingly sweet on their lips. Cracking their eyes open, they hissed as the light hit their eyes and sat up. They were in the library’s reading area, the cloud-like couch was a dead giveaway.

“Good-fucking-ender what the hell happened?” Lucas muttered. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes before a loud cough filled the room. Lucas yelped, almost falling off the couch.

Lucas’ eyes flicked around before it caught the sight of light blond hair. They visually relaxed once they just realized it was just Fagel. “Ugh, Fagel what in the world happened last night?” They asked.

Fagel snorted and tossed them something. Lucas caught it with ease and squinted down at the camera, looking at their friend with suspicion Lucas opened up the gallery.

“I guess I found why you don’t ever drink that god crap.” Was all they got in response.

Oh no.

---

The video opened to a bottle. It was a dark green bottle with a large base that tapered into a narrow bottle lip. It had a cream-colored label written in a language that was more curvy than it was readable.

The video swerved to the side to reveal Lucas staring at it with a look of pure conviction. They stared at it once before grabbing it. Turning the bottle around their hands a few times before they turned back to the camera.

“I’m only trying this shit once okay? Ollie sent it and Aster isn’t here-”

The video bobbed up and down as if the person behind it was saying ‘yes yes get on with it.’ Lucas squinted back and stuck out their tongue at the camera before they uncorked the bottle.

The footage cut out the moment the first drop hit their lips.

---

“Oh ender no,” Lucas whispered. They selected the next video with clenched fingers.

Fagel only crackled in the background.

---

The video cut into view. A loud giggly laugh filled the air and the camera bobbed up and down as a drunk looking Lucas came into view. They were on the floor, their back leaning against the back of a couch with the bottle empty and carelessly tossed to the side. A blue screen sat right in front of them, Lucas was holding something down and they turned to the camera.

“Wh-why is XD? Xeno-? Di-Dick? Xenoblade-Dickface!” Lucas asked with a bright, yet loopy, smile, “Wh? WHy iS he SUCK A DICK?”

The camera shook for a moment as if the person behind it was trying to stifle their laughter. Lucas pouted up the camera, “FaaAAGGIE? CHUrrrrO????” They whined and the screen in front of them shook, a loud groan erupting from the screen. Lucas let their hand fall and the screen flickered to a gray.

“WhY dOES Mr. XeeeenoBlade-Duckface Suck? HE’S SO MEAN TO MR. MINE-CcRAFT’S AnD MrS. KRiSTIN’S KIDS!” Lucas whined, “THESEUS? TUBS OF BEES? UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WILBUR SOMETHING SOMETHING, THE ONE WHO FUCKED A SALMON AND BILL THE SEXY PIG MAN-!”

Lucas fell to the ground, their hands on their face as tears fell down their face, “tHosE MOTHERFUCKERS DoN’T DEserVE THE SHIT! MR. XENOBLADE DICKFACE PUTS THEM THROUGH! I-”

The camera fell to the ground and you could see a person with wisps of blond hair double down, shoulders shaking in laughter that overwhelmed the loud sobbing of the crying knight on the ground.

---

“Fagel. Oh my ender, Fagel- what the fuck did I do?”

“Your best-”

“MY WHAT?”

---

The video started with the camera being set on a desk. There was a blur of brown as someone ran across the screen. They were too fast for the camera to really pick up who it was. The video only really caught something, a blur of blue being thrown across the room to where the other person ran to.

A loud voice, drunk on god wine, exclaiming, “IMMA GONNA BEAT HIS ASS, FAAAAAGILY CHURRO!”

“Oh fuck yeah, go for it.”

---

Lucas felt a shiver of dread run up their spine. Lucas looked at Fagel and they smirked before tossing a familiar gray screen.

"Oh no oh no oh no oh no,” Lucas muttered as they caught XD’s chat and stream. Lucas dropped the camera to the side, “What the fuck did I do, oh no no no.”

They tapped the screen and cringed. There was a new stream that was barely ten minutes long called ‘The cryptid’.

---

The stream started from XD’s perspective. It was sunset and everything appeared to be normal until he looked up. The world flashed a bright white before quickly turning into a pitch black. It quickly reverted back but the stream cut to XD was holding his head. A familiar bottle was next to him, it’s thick glass leaving a dent in the roof of the house he was sitting on.

The stream cut out before cutting back into XD holding a sword. He was walking down L’manburg. That was until something sounded behind him and he quickly turned to where it was. A mount of glitchy bedrock flickered into being right in front of him with a crooked sign mounted onto it.

As XD wandered closer, he could see that It had the sloppy writing of someone drunk as hell, ‘mR. XeeenoBlade DuiCkface sUCks, wITH HATRED LuLuNotLuKU!’ XD stared at the sign and whispered a quiet ‘oh no.’

This was the last part and it cuts to XD sleeping. He was in an elegant bed, with pages and books surrounding him. He looked peaceful until a loud sound shocked him awake. A sword materialized in his hands and he turned to his door. There in the doorway, the light only showing their silhouette, was a drunk as fuck Lucas.

They started at each other for a silent moment before Lucas turned to the sky and screamed out a single word that shook the DSMP to its very core.

“SALAMI”

That single word reverbaded in his head, hurting it with the echo and he could hear the loud crackling of someone in his chat. Lucas turned back and started running towards him. XD screeched as a fist slammed into his face before a blinding flash of red and green filled his vision.

Looking around, he found no one there. The stream ended with XD confusingly rubbing his bruising face.

---

“Oh fuck oh fuck…. How??” Lucas whispered. They closed the window with wide eyes and turned back to Fagel. They had a wide smirk on their face and simply handed Lucas a tray of sliced bread.

“I hear that bread helps with a hangover!” Fagel snarked and laughed when Lucas threw the tray right back at them. It clattered uselessly against the carpet.

“You can’t tell anyone!”

“Too late!” They said, “Librarian, Aster and Salem already know!”

“FAGEL, WHY!”

[rightsockjin]

A Little Bit of Stress

Summary: You and Namjoon haven’t had sex in God knows how long because of your mutually busy lives. Namjoon was stressed for the next comeback and you had students to motivate but how were you supposed to focus on your job when all you could think about was your boyfriend naked?

Rating: M

Genre: Smut, Fluff, tiny Angst

Word count: 14,456

Warnings: There is sex in this. Oral. Female receiving. Sexual spanking and playful spanking. Erotica…duh. BIg dick energy. And literal. You can feel it in your guts ladies and gents. Fingering, slight dirty talk. na na na na na na na na na na na na Soft DomJOON! A little angst if you squint. Very fluffy. Namjoon loves reader with all he’s got. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play-kinda. Bratty reader. Slight choking. Sensitive neck Joon. Ear eating.

Please don’t repost without permission. I worked really hard on this y’all.

`-admin OperaNickle

    Stress. It was the root of nearly all of your problems.

    Whether it was your skin breaking out in places it never did before, or his sour mood that seemed to swing from mild discomfort to full on don’t-touch-me-or-I-will-scream, it was getting to you both.

   Currently, you were sitting on the warm beige couch that Joon had insisted on buying after you complained about the white one that the apartment had come with. You dropped your coffee all over it and painstakingly scrubbed it for hours with a resulting light brown stain.

Your hands were resting on top of one of the dark brown throw pillows you’d bought soon after, triggering his own purchase of an oversized, red orange, paisley rug to match. It was never ending. He’d purchase something, then you would equal it or outdo him.

   You had pointed out one time after he’d bought the most outrageous and expensive thing yet– a dark brown mahogany wood coffee table that looked like an old time-y trunk– that he was furnishing your apartment and that it was a waste of his money. He’d merely chuckled and commented on the sheer amount of time he had been spending at your place since you two  had become more than just friends.

  “I’m just trying to repay you for all of the food I consume when I’m here. Really, you’re the one who’s losing since you have to put up with me.”

   Still, you had made up your mind to somehow repay him for all of the things he continued to buy without your consent. He may be well off –that being an understatement– but he didn’t need to be throwing his money at you. You had a job. A fairly okay one at that. You could buy your own furnishings and feed him when he was over. Another reason for your submission to his lavish, albeit over the top, gift giving was because it had clearly been established as his love language. How could you say no to the way he expressed his feelings?

   The slam of the refrigerator door alerted you from the story you had been reading on your phone. Your fingers accidentally scrolled right and closed the chapter you were on, causing the app to suddenly glitch and close. Your heart sank.

   You frantically clicked on the app to open it and when the loading screen popped up you knew it was a lost cause. You hadn’t saved the story, nor had you memorized the title or author.

   You slumped in your seat letting out an audible groan of pure frustration. You had just been getting to the good part. The part you had started reading the story for in the first place, and just like your sanity, it was robbed at the worst time possible.

   “Damn it! Pinche iPhone de la pinche fucking madre, oh my God!”

   You let the phone drop with a ringing thud on a spot on the floor. It was slightly muffled by the fibers of the rug, but your voice was loud and shrill. From his place in the kitchen, Joon looked over. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the glare on his face shift into confusion. He leaned on the bar that stood between the living room and kitchen and took two deep, calming breaths.

   You were getting on his nerves. You could tell. It wasn’t his fault or even yours. He was constantly under a lot of pressure and recently he’d hit a rut working on one of the verses of his songs. Itt seemed to travel to everything he worked on. The melody he’d been producing that had been flowing out of him like a smooth river;  stuck. The lyrics to his next solo song that had been as easy as speaking; cut short. The rap line song that had been his idea; missing only his part now.

   The frustration and dissatisfaction had bled into his personal life. To be more specific, you. He’d been at your apartment almost daily. Something about how you usually get him to relax and therefore out of any writer’s block he’d have but now it didn’t seem to be working. On the contrary, you seemed  to be making it worse.

   It was torturous. To have him in your bed and not able to touch him or sooth him in any way was the definition of your own personal hell. He showered late at night after he got in from work on most days unless it was the weekend, in which case he showered at around nine to sleep a full eight hours or more. Then he woke up on the earlier side of the morning to try and write from the comfort of his – your – “our” couch. That usually lasted until you woke up, made some sort of breakfast that he pecked at then threw away because his lack of inspiration made “food taste bland”.

   In a way, you felt inadequate. Your sole wish in this relationship was to make his life easier and you hadn’t been able to satiate him for one single second. You had always prided yourself on being able to calm him down, and this no longer seemed to be one of your strengths.

   He even wasn’t as affectionate as usual. Now, you weren’t the kind of person to let things like this get to you. It was a dip. A problem that would eventually turn into a hill. The lower you fall the higher you rise . It was just a fact of  life…so why did you suddenly feel like you were walking on eggshells and he was throwing them at your feet?

   “Are you okay? Don’t think I’ve heard you curse like that…ever,” Namjoon said, sounding apprehensive.

   Your pulse raced as the unfinished scene raced through your mind.

   Namjoon caressed your cheek, his fingers rough from working out. His voice, deep. Gruff. Like he’d just woken up.

   “Oh baby,” he whispered in your ear. His warm breath tracing the shell. A shiver ran up your spine that he pretended not to notice.

   “Do you know how much I’ve missed you,” he kissed your earlobe, letting his tongue dart out for a split second to lav at the tender skin, “Your voice,” he kissed the shell with a slightly open mouth, “ your lips…”

  He traced your ear with his tongue, strong from all the rapping and his accurate pronunciation of every single syllable. You couldn’t help but sigh as a blush tracked up your body and settled in your cheeks.

   “Joon-“

   “Shhhh,” he whispered, still working at your ear, “just relax baby. Let me take care of you. Let me love you.”

   “Y/N,” Joon said a little louder, snapping you out of your reverie. Your breath was coming shorter, your own mind trying frantically to fill in what you hadn’t read. Did he kiss her next? Where were his hands? Still on her cheek? Was he as turned on as she was? What did he mean by “take care” of her?

   “What,” you said, trying and failing to keep the slight bite from your voice. Regret filled you instantly. It wasn’t his fault that the app was glitchy.

   His eyes widened, taken aback by your tone. Great. Now you made it worse. You must have hurt his feelings.

   “What crawled up your ass,” he asked, succeeding in keeping his tone playful and soft but it still agitated you.

    You felt a lick of fire flicked against your chest. Anger boiled in your stomach. He didn’t mean it. You knew that. Just as you hadn’t meant the snappy way you’d answered, but the monster inside of you was ready to growl.

   You bit your lip trying to keep the retort in your throat. If you snapped again, he’d just leave. He didn’t need to be here. He had a dorm and people much nicer to be around. If you wanted to be alone for the next couple of days, it would be the perfect way to do it.

   “Is it work still,” he asked again, his features softening once again in concern.

   The monster retreated as quickly as it had come. The way he seemed to search your whole body as if it could tell him without your words what was wrong was endearing.

   “Yes.”

   It wasn’t a total lie. He’d said “still” and yes, it was a part of your major frustration. Not only was your boyfriend being uncharacteristically cold but your students seemed to be trying less and less every class. It was like no one cared to learn English or to study anymore. Perhaps it was you. Maybe it was that you just weren’t as good of a teacher as you had thought.

   It had been plaguing you. Every time you walked into class, ready to inspire someone, yet they all seemed to want to run the other way.  It was always in the back of your head. What if you lost your job? You would get kicked out of South Korea for sure. You weren’t a citizen. You weren’t married to one… not even close…

   If you were sent back to the US, your parents would never let you hear the end of it. The “I told you so” s and reprimanding glares. The way they would no longer be able to brag about how brave and smart you were. It was eating away at you.

   Of course, you hadn’t told Joon all of this. His job was enough to keep him up for days without his girlfriend adding to the pile. You knew you should tell him what was really wrong, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t tell him how crappy you’d been feeling without suddenly making the problem about you and not him and his much busier and more important life.

   It had been steadily building. The anger. The frustration. The guilt. That, coupled with Joon’s complete disdain of your touch, had your own stress going through the roof. you couldn’t even remember the last time he’d made out with you, let alone had any sort of intimate moment.

   So there you were. Frustrated. In far too many ways to count and no real way to fix it unless you wanted to do it yourself and honestly, you didn’t have enough alone time to actually try. As a result, you’d been scarfing down erotica fictions about your own boyfriend. The irony was not lost on you.

   The only problem was that now that you knew what he was like in real life, all the renditions of him were just a bit off. You found yourself rewriting the fiction as you went, trying to imagine what the real Joon would do in that situation. Some were too out there to even consider reading. Some too perverse even for you. Some were so far from the real life Namjoon that they made you laugh but this one, the one that you had been reading before your stupid phone glitched, was very close to what you would assume Namjoon would act like.

   The fake Namjoon was sweet. He was tender and called his girlfriend baby and jagi like he did to you almost exclusively in place of your name. He’d hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek multiple times softly just to remind her that he loved her.. He’d admire her hair and stared at her features as if committing them to his memory for later use. It was so purely Namjoon that it almost felt as if it was really him who had written it. Just for you. So you could have him when he was gone or unavailable. It had felt so real…

   “Too many papers to grade?”

His very much real voice jarred you once again from your thoughts. It seemed he’d been doing that a lot lately. Or maybe you were just dozing off too often.

   “Something like that,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest. His oversized hoodie curling under your arms. You brushed a long braid over your shoulder with a satisfied grunt and let yourself slide onto the floor before you. Like his hoodie, you crumpled on the rug next to your phone which lay face down. Namjoon’s face winked up at you from one of the many photo cards of him you had and you couldn’t help but smile back at the miniscule Joon. You couldn’t help it. His smile made you smile. Too bad you hadn’t seen the real one in ages.

   Gentle footsteps resonated off the white walls. You didn’t move. Your eyes glued to the ceiling as they got closer and you let your arms fall limply to your side. His face appeared directly in your line of vision, the ghost of a dimple on his left cheek as he half smiled for what felt like the first time in years. He looked down at your unmoving form.

   “It’s got you all jelly like,” he said nudging your hip with his toes. You scrunch your nose in distaste.

   “Don’t poke me you dork,” you hissed, still not moving, having found a comfortable position.

   Namjoon rolled his eyes but sat down next to your head, his legs stretched out before him as he picked up the remote for the TV and went on Netflix. Within seconds you could hear the familiar music of your favorite franchise playing and you jerked unattractively to see.

   The coffee table was in the way.

   “Is that what I think it is,” you asked him, rolling your eyes to the back of your head to try to see him without moving.

   “Why don’t you move over so that you can see for yourself?”

    He patted his muscular thighs as an invitation. Did he want you to sit on him or lay your head on his legs?

   You straddled him. Your hands rested on his shoulders as his smile grew. He was getting hard. You could tell, but his face remained simply at ease.. As if you were the most gorgeous painting he had ever seen and his sole job was to admire you. The only signs of his arousal were his dilating pupils and the third leg in his pants.

   “Mmm,” you hummed looking back at the ceiling, “I’m kind of comfortable.”

   You heard him scoff and couldn’t help the slight smile that graced your lips at his disbelief that mingled with amusement.

   “Come on baby,” he groaned, “you’re going to turn down my thighs for the floor?”

   “I don’t want to move Namjoon,” you argued, breathing deep so that your chest rose high enough to see through the excess fabric on your body. You could sense his eyes on you. Or was that your own desire tainting your perception?

   “But… my thighs… and Harry Potter…” he whined. God, you loved it when he whined. Usually when you were being a huge brat and he turned into a puppy. It was delicious.  

   “But, the floor and my comfort,” you retorted, twitching your open fingers just for fun.

   “Jagiyaaaa,” he groaned, grabbing the hand you’d just moved. He pulled on it to get you to move closer. Your head hit the side of his leg that was mostly covered by his black shorts. The small trip had cleared your view to the TV and you smiled triumphantly.

   “Thanks Joon, now I can see,” you cackled as he let go of your hand and you turned on your side to see clearly. Professor Dumbledore had just started talking to a small cat with glasses.

               For a couple of minutes, you sat in silence and his annoyance seemed to return. Just as the floor was staring to get uncomfortable and you were regretting your stupid choice to stay on the floor and not his thighs, one of his hands dropped down onto your eyes, blocking your vision entirely.

   “Joon,” you said stiffly and you tried in vain to pry his… delectable… hands from your face.

   “You either lay on my lap and watch the movie with me, or not at all,” he joked as you continued to wrestle with his long fingers.

   “How am I supposed to get on your lap if you’re holding me down genius?”

   “Oh sorry,” he said, lifting his hand then used both of them to place your head on his right thigh. You begrudgingly settled yourself on his muscular leg, thought internally you were cheering, pulling your braids out from under your body and over his lap. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw him looking at your hair with innocent desire.

   “Jagi,” he said running his fingers over one of the braids that nearly touched the floor over his muscles, “can I play with your hair?”

   Namjoon ran a hand through your hair, sniffing it.

   “Jagi, you smell so good…” he said as he scratched your scalp lightly, “can I play with your hair?”

   You choked on your own saliva for a second. You couldn’t swallow and you brought your hand up to cover your lips in case you coughed but the moment passed and your skin flushed as you imagined the short story again.

   “Uh…ye-yeah. Go for it.”

   Namjoon hesitated but pulled the hair ties off the ends of your hair and very slowly and tenderly began to undo the knots that made up your Dutch braids. It would be frizzy when he was done but you could always throw it up in a bun later. Besides, this was one of those things that you just absolutely adored about Namjoon.

   He liked to play with your hair. It was soothing.. When you had mentioned it to Joon once as an anecdote that you enjoyed this action, he’d taken it upon himself to do it when he was sleeping over to help you drift off faster. He’d told you that he had an affinity for grooming people and the fact that you had mentioned that you enjoyed such ministrations made him excited.

   His fingers drew small circles near the front of your head as he finished unbraiding one side of hair. Your eyes drooped as he stopped his small drawings and started to undo the other braid.

   His fingers were skilled–there was no doubt about it–in many, many, ways, but maybe this was your favorite. You sighed, letting him massage your scalp as the movie played. You let your eyes close as the feeling of his hand on your head lulled you.

   After a few blissful moments you realized you were falling asleep and you jumped up, throwing his hand off your head and nearly hitting his chin with your skull.

   Joon’s eyes widened with surprise and confusion as he waited for an explanation. You smiled at the man before you cleared your throat and spoke.

   “I was falling asleep.”

   Namjoon relaxed his shoulder. He had been scared he’d done something wrong,

   “That’s okay baby. I just want you to relax,” he said, pushing your head towards his lap again but you pulled his hand away and straddled his lap before stretching your legs behind him and hooking your ankles together.

   “What are you doing,” he asked, his breath hitching as you rested your hands on his chest. You leaned into him slowly and rubbed your nose on his before nuzzling against his cheek.

   “It’s not fair that I’m the only one relaxing,” you answered, bringing his hand back up to your head and he sighed, tangling his fingers once again. You did the same, running your hand from the nape of his neck and up to his scalp.

   He let out a slow breath when you clutched at the strands and buried your head in his neck, running your lips over the skin there.

   He had a sensitive neck. Whether it was sensually or just on the daily, he loved neck kisses. So you delivered without complaint.

   As you pressed your lips softly on his pulse you couldn’t help but feel elated. Finally. He was letting you help. Finally, he was holding you like he used to. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask “why” as you usually would. You were too scared to shatter the moment. If all you got from him were caresses in your hair and all you got to give were kisses on his neck, then it would all be worth it.

   One of his hands began to draw on your mid to lower back and you couldn’t help but curl around his body. Tighter. Closer. If you could suddenly melt into him and become one, you would do it  in a heartbeat. But this was enough. For now.

   You lightly bit his neck in a couple of different places, letting your tongue lick small stripes in the same place before kissing the saliva away.  His breath deepened further. His hold on your body tightened as well, like he was trying to pull you into him. Both of his hands were splayed out on your torso. His fingers dig into the fabric of his hoodie on your body and his head lulled to the side so you could have better access.

   Elation filled you to the brim. To have him so pliant under your touch was all you could ask for. Him letting you take care of him; that’s all you wanted.

   You used the hand that had a grip on his hair to maneuver his head to meet your mouth.  You kissed up the tendon in his neck slowly, taking your time to appreciate his smooth skin.

   “Oh baby,” he groaned. His mouth was so close to your ear that his breath grazed the shell. A shiver ran up your spine as you kissed his jaw. You struggled to keep yourself present. It was about him. Not about you.

   “Jagiya,” he husked trying to move his head to try to kiss you. You held him firmly in place.

   He groaned again, this time in frustration. He wasn’t used to you taking control. It was always him who took the reins but the last thing he needed at this moment was to take care of you.

   “It’s okay baby,” you mumbled against his sideburns, “just let me take care of you.”

   You planted a soft kiss on his ear. You felt his body convulse. His legs began to fidget under your body. His hips bucked and his hands grasped at your waist as if to still you. It was too late. You could feel his arousal. Slowly, he was hardening as you continued to kiss and suck at his golden skin.

   “Wait wait,” he said, ripping you from his jugular and holding you at arms length. His breath was heavy, almost as if he had been running.  His pupils were dilated and his skin was flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears.

   Sinful. This picture of your boyfriend clearly turned on by the simplest stroke of your lips and fingers, was sinful. And Lord were you a sinner.

   You bit your lip, keeping a growl from ripping from your mouth. You could lose control. Maybe you were the one who was riled up. Your pulse thumped against your neck, your chest… your panties… it’s been too long. Much too long for your liking.

   “Wait for what,” you complained, clenching and unclenching your fingers in his lush locks. You ground your hips once down , pushing into his lap to create friction. He grunted, squeezing your waist to stop you from moving, but you wiggled and squirmed in his grasp managing to get a couple more strokes against his rapidly hardening erection.

   “Hold on,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing you back and off his lap. The heat in your body seemed to pulsate in your veins as you watched him trying to catch his breath. His shorts were tented. His muscles flexed as if he was trying to stop his body’s reaction, his eyes lidded and his head heavy on his shoulders.

   You couldn’t understand why he had stopped you. He seemed to want it as much or maybe even a little more than you did.

   Suddenly, fear gripped you like a vice. The heat drained and in that moment, you felt stupid. How could you throw yourself at him like that? He’d asked you to stop and yet here you were pushing.

   You pushed yourself away from him a little more and hugged your legs to your chest and placed your forehead on your knees. Tears sprung into your eyes. You tried to keep them quiet but it was hard to breathe. Emotion consumed you. Just because his body reacted did not mean that he wanted what you did.

   Guilt flooded your head like a fog as you felt your body begin to shake. Maybe he just didn’t want you anymore. Maybe… maybe the couple of months that the two of you had as more than friends were enough for him. Maybe he realized that you were better as friends. That would explain his lack of affection. His lack of interest. That would explain his rut.

   “Whoa whoa, Y/N, what’s wrong? Why are you crying,” you heard his voice ask. His hand patting your head to try to get you to look up. You could feel your hair fanned around your arms and were grateful for the extra cover. You hated crying in front of people and he was no exception. In fact, you hated it even more.

   When you gave no answer, you felt him shift closer. He pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail . Air hit your burning cheeks but you refused to look at him.

   “Oh baby what did I do,” he asked but it didn’t seem aimed at you. You felt him press his own forehead to the back of your head. He nuzzled into your now frizzy hair and placed a gentle kiss. you felt your shoulder shake as you struggled to breathe.

   A sob escaped your lips and like a dam, it burst forward. It was ugly, to say the least. You hadn’t realized how much emotion you had been holding back. Hadn’t realized how bottled up you had been. Now you were paying for it.

   How embarrassing.

   “Y/N no,” he said, pulling at your legs and replacing them with this body. He wrapped his arms around your torso and settled your arms onto his shoulders. He cradled your head against his neck and kept his hand on the nape of your neck

   “Shhh baby it’s okay… it’s all going to be okay. Just tell me what I did. I’m so sorry…”

     How had you gotten here? How did you end up on the floor of your apartment with tears in your eyes when all you wanted was to kiss his stress away?

   You sat together like this for what felt like forever. Eventually, he pulled you back onto his lap. You assumed because it was more comfortable for hi than squatting on his knees.

   He didn’t ask again what it was that he did. He didn’t question the tears. Instead, he stroked your hair and kissed your cheeks while you calmed down. You felt guilty. You owed him an explanation but you could feel it in your bones that you wouldn’t be able to speak if you tried.

   Finally, you were able to breathe normally but you stayed in his arms for a couple seconds more in case he pushed you off again after he realized that you were feeling ok.

   You slowly pulled your head from his neck and searched around on the floor for one of the hair ties that he’d pulled from your hair earlier. There was one near your phone.

   You quickly tied your hair up and away from your tear stained face, letting the cool air conditioning hit your skin. Joon watched you, waiting on bated breath, but you didn’t want to talk.

   You let your hands rest on your own thighs as his hoodie sleeves covered your hands entirely. You must have looked pitiful. Hopefully you weren’t too red and puffy.

   You couldn’t bring yourself to get off of him so you simply sat waiting for him to break the silence. Maybe he had the same idea because he didn’t speak either. He let his hands fall to your hips and pressed softly into the flesh soothingly.

   You took a shaky breath trying to give yourself courage but- thank God- Joon beat you to it.

   “Baby… are you upset because I pushed you away? I just needed a second to cal down.”

          Baby? Would he still call you baby if he didn’t want to date you? Maybe he didn’t know how to end it and so he was trying to keep you from finding out that he wasn’t feeling it anymore. Baby. you remember when he first called you baby and even though it hadn’t been your favorite name to be called from previous lovers, when it had come from his lips, from his heart…it was different. It was praise. It made you feel warm and like you were glowing. Yet, this time, it was like he’d stabbed you with a heated knife somewhere below your ribcage.

          “If you don’t want me anymore you should just tell me,” your mouth said. Your voice sounded foreign. As if it had come from someone else. What you said surprised you almost as much as it surprised him. His eyes widened and searched your face.

          “Not-not want you,” he stuttered, a laugh barely concealed in his surprise, “are you kidding?”

          Ignoring your fear at how you appeared after your pity party, you snapped your head up to look at him. A small smile rested on his lips and the deeper of his dimples showed slightly. While there was worry behind his gaze, there was another emotion, deep within the brown of his eyes. It was mirth. He thought this was funny.

          “Namjoon,” you raised your voice, trying to keep your own smile at bay. You swatted at his arms and he feigned hurt.

          “What,” he yelled letting uncharacteristically dashing chuckles escape his lips, “You can’t expect me to think you’re being serious.”

          “I am being serious-“

          “Ahahaha,” his loud and somewhat funny laugh was back and with it your own smile. It felt like you hadn’t heard it in so long. Sure, he laughed when he was on run episodes or when he was with the boys but it seemed like around you, he was always down. It was nice to have him laughing even if it was at you.

          “Joon! Stop laughing, I’m not kidding!”

          He laughed even harder at that. His laugh reached a level of loudness that made your ears ring but you didn’t care. He looked happier than he had in weeks. You couldn’t help but chuckle along as he laughed until they subsided into snickers. All the while you continuously poked and pushed at his shoulders playfully.

          When he was finally composed enough to make direct eye contact, he cleared his throat and widened his pretty eyes at you as he tended to do after he heard a good joke. His smile was glued to his face as he rubbed circles into the hoodie.

          “Do you really think,” he couldn’t help but cough as he tried to stop another fit of laughter from escaping, “that I would ever, and I mean ever,” he paused, his fingers slipping down almost deafly to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, “not want you?”

          You blinked at him as his eyes glittered, darkening impossibly so. It was like a switch was flicked and the small amount of lust that you’d seen before was back. Nimble fingers found their way under the oversized fabric on your body. His touch was slightly cold to the skin on your stomach. It sharply contrasted the heat that seemed to rush into your cheeks and your ears.

          “Well,” you managed with little to no effort, “it’s been weeks since I’ve so much as kissed you…” His index finger had found the lace of the bralette you were wearing. His thumb hooked under the soft edge and tugged at it slightly. Distracting. He was so distracting.

          “So-so I thought maybe it was something I had done,” you said in one breath as his thumb dug a little higher under the elastic that clung to your ribs to keep your breasts in place. Just in the nick of time too. Had he done it just one second earlier, you would have probably become mute for once in your life. A feat only Namjoon could achieve.

          “That’s on me,” he said suddenly halting his progressing fingers, his shoulders sagging, “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately.”

Namjoon rested his forehead on yours. His eyes shut tight as his apology fell from his pink lips.

          He stroked the section of skin under the pad of his thumb, the tip just barely brushing the underside of your breast. You felt a wave of heat rush through your body. Was it getting hot? Should you close the curtains?

          “I’ve just been stressed and I didn’t want to blow up on you. At the same time, well… I miss you and I feel the most comfortable around you. I don’t ever feel like I have to pretend that I’m alright. I didn’t mean to make you feel unappreciated.”

          When had his other hand found your bare waist? Had his voice distracted you? When had the rest of his fingers ended up under the soft lace of the bralette? Had his thumb traveled further?

         “I didn’t mean to…deprive you,” He whispered, forcing you forward to catch his low words. In hindsight, it was a trap. That’s exactly what he wanted but could you fight him when he sounded so delicious?

          Your thoughts were cut short when his hand on your chest shifted completely, cupping and gently squeezing. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in surprise. He gave another firm squeeze as his eyes squinted cutely, his high pitched giggle returning, like music to your ears as he leaned even closer and bumped his nose against yours.

          “Kim Namjoon,” you gasped but it was eaten up as he quickly connected his lips to yours in a spurt of short, chaste kisses that had you chasing after him. Frustration flooded your veins as he continued to pull away, leaving you wanting more and more the more he gave.

          Finally, having had enough, you grabbed his head with both of your hands and tilted it up slightly so you could kiss him properly. Forcing him to slow down. He would be in control soon enough. You should enjoy the power you had while you could.

          You forced your lips onto his. The kiss was soft, slow, passionate. He melted into it. He always did like when you took a hold of him in some way or another. Sinful, beautiful noises escaped his lips. His small moans seemed  to absorb into your pores. In turn you couldn’t help but answer each and every one of them. He nibbled on your bottom lip for a second, an action that you couldn’t get enough of and he knew, then went right back to sucking on your upper lip.

          “Fuck,” you could feel the arousal in your throat. He made you lose yourself. He made you forget where you were, who you were.

          “That’s right baby girl,” he groaned into your mouth as you licked his lips, “that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you.”

          You moaned. It was embarrassing how easily you could come undone under his ministrations. If you could kiss him for eons, you would. His lips were your favorite bit of him. He was so. Fucking. Good.

          “Baby please,” you groaned pulling at his lip with your teeth, “I want you…”

          “Shit,” he said, a gurgle of want bubbling from his throat. You shifted, trying to remind him of his hands on your body but what it did instead was remind you of another part of him that seemed almost as excited as you were.

          “Jagi,” he hissed, shifting his hips to get the same friction you’d just created, “do that again.”

          You pulled your lips from his, a thin strand of saliva connecting you. In any other situation, this would be gross, but in that instant, it only spurred you on more.

          “Yes sir,” you joked, winking at him as you rolled your hips against his half hard erection. A melody of noises fell from his blessed tongue. Lust was over taking you. Your eyelids became heavy. Your breath, shallow and hard.

          “You know that’s not what I want you to call me,” he hissed at you, his fingers on your chest picking at the nipple that had hardened at some point while you made out. You sighed, your tongue darting out to wet your parched lips but you knew that the thirst you were feeling could not be quenched this way.

          “Say my name,” he growled, twisting his finger and pulling at the sensitive skin. You were panting now, slowing your movements on his lap to enjoy his cares.

          You whimpered, pushing your chest into his hand, arching your back as you struggled to draw any breath.

          “Come on baby girl,” he pressed, his lips brushing against your neck. When had he gotten to your neck?

          “Just once,” he begged but you knew he wasn’t asking.

          “Make me ,” you gasped as he bit and sucked at your pulse. A smile tugged at your lips as you felt him stop and tense.

          He pulled his lips from your neck, a lewd squelch resonating in the empty apartment as he brought his eyes level with you. He withdrew his hand as well without even a warning and you whined, thought you knew this would happen as soon as you started to fight him. It was worth it though. You knew he always worked better under a little pressure.

          “Just what I needed to hear.”

          He shifted under you, locking your ankles behind his back. He then locked your hands behind his neck. You weren’t stupid. You could see where this was going. Now, Namjoon was obviously very smart. It was  obvious. But sometimes, on most occasions, he lacked the common sense to make proper choices.

          This was one of those times.

          “Hold on tight baby,” he winked, kissing your lips once more before pushing himself up by doing a bench dip with his knees bent. Namjoon had a lot of thigh and arm muscle. This much was true, but was he used to lifting both his body weight and your own? No.

          So when he started to shake under the joined pressure, it wasn’t a surprise. You would have laughed but Lord were you scared that he would fall, or drop you or hurt himself. Instead, you struggled to decide if you should be holding onto him for dear life or if you should fling yourself off him to avoid any major injury to either of you.

          The decision was taken from you as his left arm bent at a slightly awkward angle and his balance was thrown. Instinctively, you let go of him to brace yourself as the swooping sensation of falling gripped you with fear.

          You couldn’t tell exactly how it happened. Your eyes fell shut as you landed heavily on your side. Your elbow hitting first as you reached out to stop your momentum.

          “Ow,” you couldn’t help but groan as sharp pain shot through your arm. You heard Namjoon gasp near you but all you could see was stars. You began to giggle uncontrollably as tears streamed down your face.

          “Oh your God, Y/N are you alright,” he said, sitting you up with his strong arms. You couldn’t stop laughing. You’d hit your damn funny bone and in all honesty, this was a funny situation. Sex with Namjoon was nothing if not eventful and filled with awkward mishaps.

          “I’m fine,” you said through laughter, “i just hit my elbow.”

          You blinked away the tears in your lashes, looking up at the dope of a man that you were in love with. Worry was evident on his brows. He looked you over before taking your arm in his hand and examining the red mark where you had landed.

          “Does it hurt a lot? Do you think it’s broken,” he asked, touching it lightly but no pain was felt on your end. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that nothing, and you meant nothing- could stop you from taking this man in this very instant, but you couldn’t care less if your arm was broken. Hell, it could have been hanging off by a thread and you’d still want to have a quickie before we went to emergency care.

          Could you blame yourself? The man was gorgeous.

          This was, in fact, what you were focusing on at the moment. The way that his hair fell into his dark eyes. The way his jaw contrasted with his round cheeks. How his lips were slightly parted as he examined your arm with utmost delicacy. His shoulders. His neck. The veins in his muscular arms. His long… nimble…fingers…

          “Joon,” you snapped a bit harsher than you had meant to. His eyes shot up to meet yours, confused and shocked.

          “Did I hurt you…” he averted his eyes shyly, “More?”

          “Oh honey no,” you laughed, though this time you cut yourself off as you caught a glimpse of his hardening member under the loose shorts he was sporting, “I’m hoping you might though.”

          You weren’t much into pain and Namjoon knew this very well, but these words were enough to pull him back at what was at stake. You.

          “Are you sure,” he asked one last time, fighting with his own concern and sky rocketing arousal.

          “Very sure,” you said, pushing yourself up to your knees to kiss his cheek then ducking your head to kiss his neck.

          A shiver ran down his whole body. His eyes closed and squinted. His bulge twitched slightly and you couldn’t stop the smirk on your face. You reached out and ran a single finger over the tented area, drawing little circles as you worked your way to the tip.

          “Oh fuck,” he whispered gruffly wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling it away from his body. You giggled as he let his eyes fall open, a chastising spark in his pupils. Oh you were so going to get it.

          “Close the curtains,” he commanded and you shrugged, standing quickly and nearly yanking the curtains from the hinges.

          “Done. Now what?”

          “You seem a little eager to please,” He chuckled, standing from his place on the floor carefully. It must have been painful. He looked even harder now.

          “I always am. You know I’m a people pleaser.”

          He rolled his eyes but nodded at the stairs by your kitchen and with an excited hop, you ran towards them. Joon chased you, playfully swatting at your hips and behind every couple of steps. Your long hair bobbed with every step and your shoulders shook with every giggle. You tried to jump away from him but only half-heartedly. In truth, you loved his hands on your butt and you weren’t going to pass up some playful spanks.

          When you made it to the landing, you turned around. Namjoon was slightly shorter than usual due to him being one step behind you, so you took advantage, throwing your arms around his neck as he took the last step. As if he was on the same wavelength, he reached down, grabbing at your thighs and settling them around his hip.

          You giggled again, excitement and something a little purer flooded your system. His lips met yours unceremoniously, nipping and sucking light heartedly while you smiled into him. The scent of something flowery hit your nose and you realized he must have used some of his Chanel number five lotion. It strangely suited him well.

          Finally, you reached your bed. He climbed on carefully, setting you on your back. He pulled away and blinked at you. Your stomach fluttered at his expression. There was a softness on his features that you never saw with anyone else. A love that you couldn’t quite describe but couldn’t ignore.

          He let go of your leg to stroke at your cheek with the back of his hand. Pure, undeniable warmth surged through you at his touch. Your smiles match in intensity and adoration. It was weird. Maybe no one could understand it. How intimate sex truly was to you. Especially with the reputation that your boyfriend had of being a sexual deviant, but the truth was that while he was naturally very attracted to the human body, sex had a special meaning to him. It wasn’t something that he gave away easily. It was an expression of his trust and love. It was nearly never self-serving, and almost always to focus on you and your needs. He was a giver, contrary to popular belief.

          You buried your hand in his hair and pulled him to your lips, savoring the taste of strawberry Chapstick as if it would be the last time that you could ever do so. Not even for a breath of air did you pull away as he hooked his thumbs over the edge of the hoodie and slowly began to bunch it up around your chest.

          Cool air hit your warming skin, his touch only furthering the experience. Every nerve in your torso was in flames, the pulse between your legs growing stronger by the second. Like it was yelling at you to give it the attention it searched for. Namjoon angled his pelvis up so you could feel his own pulse against your own. His member twitched as he shifted his hips from side to side ever so slight, your legs still wrapped tightly around him. You couldn’t stand the thought of him being any farther from you than a couple of centimeters.

          Just as the thought crossed your mind, he pulled away from the kiss, his hands both at the lace edge of your bra now. His gaze darkened as you whined, chasing his sweet lips but he kept himself out of reach with a pleased smirk.

          “Joonie,” you groaned trying to pull his head back to you but he only rolled his eyes before prying a hand from his hair almost reluctantly, entwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand softly. He smiled and placed it over his chest, where you could feel his speeding heart. It pounded against his ribs at the same speed as your own. In sync, in one harmonious song.

          You relaxed a bit at the gesture. His heartbeat always had that effect and he never failed to use it to control you in the sweetest way possible. Your chest rose and fell dramatically as he memorized your features.

          “Can this come off,” he asked, tugging once more at the fabric of the sweater you stole. You smiled at him knowingly and nodded.

          “If you take it back after we’re done, I’m going to be upset,” you half joked as he placed tiny pecks on each knuckle and one last kiss on the back of your hand before he dropped it next to your head and took the hem of the hoodie with both hands.

          “Hands over your head,” he said, the slightest bit of authority in his command. Obediently, or maybe it was because you were so keen to please, you shimmed your hands over your ponytail and arched your back to make it easier for him to pull it off.

          He was cautious not to get it stuck on your ears, or to pull on your hair. Too many times had he accidentally snagged an article of clothing on an earring or accidentally tangled your hair into the fabric. He’d learned that lesson, as he more than likely learned not to try to stand up with you in his lap earlier.

          Once you were free of the fabric, he balled it up, smirked at you, then tossed it over to a pile of stuffed animals that you had set up on a small table. You had one from each tour he had gone to from every country they visited. In case you missed him he’d send you one from wherever he was so you could imagine being with him. It was such a sweet thought and a tradition you looked forward to.

          Namjoon kissed your nose faintly, bringing your attention back to him. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, his hands not dilly dallying any further. Instead he rested them directly on top of your breasts, squeezing, just enough to remind you what you were doing. What you were craving.

          “ Y/N,” he groaned, looking at the way his hands engulfed the hills on your chest. It was a reminder. You didn’t have huge breasts but neither were they tiny, and the way that his hands seemed to be the perfect size to hold each, only served to recap how big his pretty hands were.

          “I love you in lace,” he gasped, thrusting his hips against the heart of your femininity. You choked on a moan. He was so stiff, and the combined warmth of your bodies seemed to radiate into the air.

          “You’re blushing, beautiful,” He said against your neck. There was no denying it. Not only could he clearly see the tint of red on your skin, but he could also feel it against his lips.

          “Shut up,” you complained, twirling a strand of hair between your fingers as he nibbled on your burning skin. He  let a hand trace up to your chin. His thumb parting your swollen lips and pressing against your tongue. He wasn’t fond of you telling him what to do.

          “It’s pretty, baby,” he kissed a hickey into your neck loudly, “You know I love it when your skin flushes under my touch.”

          There was a hidden question in this statement. He was asking you if this is what you wanted out of this encounter. To turn pink under his hand. It wasn’t new. He’d done it to you on many an occasion and it was as enjoyable to you as it was to him.

          “You know I like it too,” you said shyly, glad that he couldn’t see how much blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of what could happen next.

          His manhood twitched against your core, his breath hitched. He could read you like a book, or maybe he had you memorized. Either way, he pulled your legs from his body and pulled you to sit up. In a matter of seconds he had pushed you to the edge of the bed, stood you up and sat you on his toned thighs. Confusion clouded your mind. The other times that something of this sort happened in the bed room, you were across his lap not on it. In all honesty, you weren’t sure how this would work with the way he had positioned you.

          Namjoon was a man with a plan. He wasted no time in scooting you back until his shoulders were pressed against the wall.

          “Joon, what are you-“

          “Lay down,” he said, pushing you forward as he parted his legs. Your head facing towards his feet, your face in the comforter. You put your arms under your head to support yourself as Namjoon pulled your legs around his hips once more.

          That’s when it became all clear. Before you could process what was happening, he tugged at your leggings, pulling them down to about your midthigh. Cool air hit your behind and you couldn’t help the shiver that traveled up your spine.

          “Pink panties ,” he whispered so hoarsely that it was almost unintelligible, “My favorite color on you, did you wear this for me?”

   You took a deep breath, forcing courage into yourself before you said, “No, it’s for my other boyfriend .”

         He stiffened at the sarcasm but quickly relaxed knowing that you were just trying to rile him up. One, slender finger drew a small heart on your right butt cheek. You could almost hear his smile as he inhaled. His brain whirling with possibility.

          “Cheeky,” he joked, patting the spot he’d just traced on. The sound of skin on skin making your mind blurry with desire.

          You snorted, because, come on. That’s a good joke and he chuckled.

          “You know what happens when my baby gets mouthy…don’t you baby?”

          You hummed, loving your little banter. It was lucky that your face was firmly between your arms or maybe he’d see your mind working to sass him.

          “I don’t think that was mouthy,” you shrugged. His index finger found its way under the elastic of the panties on your body. You licked your lips in anticipation but nothing happened. Disappointment began to settle in right before you felt him tug it up then without warning, released it.

          The sharp snap of pain panged through the skin on your butt and lower back. You hissed as he pushed into the place the elastic dug. It was a start. A damn good one at that.

          “Maybe not, but I get to be the judge of that,” he said plucking the elastic up on the opposite side of your hip, “and I think that you’re mouthy.”

          Snap.  

           You groaned but adrenaline had started to kick in and arousal was pooling between your legs.

          “Turn me around,” you mumbled, enjoying the sting against your skin as he pressed into the area your underwear hit, “I’ll show you just how mouthy I can be.”

          “Fuck,” he spat, smacking your right butt cheek and yanking your hair just for his own added pleasure. The noise resonated in the large, partially empty, apartment. A gasp escaped your lips.

          “Maybe later,” he reasoned, hitting the left one this time a little harder than the last, “first, i want to see my handprint on your ass.”

          Two more fast slaps to your right cheek followed by one to your left. You clenched around nothing feeling the burn start to take over. His hand delivered delicious blows each time.

          “What-“ spank, “happened to-“ spank, spank, “pink?”

          “I’ve decided that you deserve more than just pink. What with that filthy mouth of yours.”

          “Filthy,” you mock gasped as he slapped one side multiple times quickly. So quickly, you couldn’t even count and your skin was starting to get numb.

          “You didn’t seem to have a problem with my mouth last time it was around your-” three more slaps and then a snap of the elastic of your underwear was enough to shut you up. A moan gurgled into your mouth that you barely held back. Namjoon rubbed the sting into the panging skin. His finger now felt cold against you and you knew you must be peachy at the very least. Cherry red at the worst. Judging by his giggle, you were somewhere in between.

          “Don’t laugh at me, you jerk,” you groaned, feeling your face flush as he ran a finger over your clothed slits. You shuddered in anticipation.

          “I love how you react to the simplest touches,” he mumbled, running his finger over and over the damp underwear, “You’re a little wet baby.”

          You could tell he wanted you to say something but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice a single thing. When you said nothing he continued.

          “Maybe we should get rid of these,” he slipped a finger under the side for a second, before pulling it out and grabbing your hips.

          “Or maybe,” he shifted himself pushing his manhood against your center, “we could just push these aside…”

          He pulled you back onto him, the friction heavenly to you both. A sinful, melodious moan left his lips. He was getting desperate but if you knew your boyfriend, he could draw this out for much, much longer and you…you were in no rush.

          “Or maybe,” you countered pushing yourself up and away from the bed sheets, “you could put my ‘filthy’ mouth to some use,” you threw a cautious look over your shoulder only to see his mouth hanging open in surprise and his fluffy cheeks flushing a pale pink.

          “What’s wrong baby,” you asked with a smirk looking down at your touching centers then back at his eyes, your lip between your teeth, “cat got your tongue?”

          His eyes sparkled as he looked between you where you connected through fabric. You could almost see him salivate. You’d heard of this before your relationship with Namjoon. You’d heard of men loving to please a woman. You had heard of the way some men drooled at the thought but never had you experienced it. That is, unti the first time Namjoon disrobed you and he’d licked his lips and buried his face between your legs.

          And here it was again. That look. Feral. Primal. Thirsty. It was, so absolutely sexy. But this was not what you had in mind.

          In an instant, Namjoon rolled you off of him, shifting himself on his hands and knees. You adjusted yourself against the pillows of the bed, your chest heaving as he tore his shirt from his body as if it was burning him. He threw it on the floor next to the bed then turned his attention back to you, “Take it off.”

          “Take what off,” you asked genuinely not sure but his quirked eyebrow made you swallow the little saliva in your mouth and strip your bralette and underwear in a matter of seconds. You weren’t in the mood to be deprived of an orgasm after a couple of weeks hiatus.

          You propped yourself up a bit higher, your legs squeezed shut in slight embarrassment. You crossed your arms under and slightly over your breasts to cover your pert nipples. It had been a while, and it kind of felt like it was the first time he’d seen you naked even though, in the back of your mind, you knew he’d seen it plenty before.

          Namjoon’s chest rippled in the dim light, his arms, so toned and silky, flexed as he held himself up, devouring every inch of skin he could see. His tongue darted out to lick his plush lips. A shock of thrill went directly to your core. You had memories of that tongue in other places.

          “i’ve missed you baby girl,” he said, grabbing your ankles and pushing them apart so he could take a look at what lay in between. When his eyes landed on your slit, it was like he’d been sedated. His shoulders relaxed, his jaw slacked and his elbows buckled slightly.

          “Finally,” he grumbled, jumping at your body. He kissed your lips passionately, ripping your arms from your chest and entwining his fingers with yours to pin them to the bed on either side of you. You spread your legs even wider to accommodate his torso.

          He pressed his hips into your sex. The texture fabric of his shorts rubbed up against the little nub that was begging to be touched.

          You moaned into the kiss as his tongue found its way into your mouth. You were hot. So hot. You were burning up. Maybe it was the way that you could feel his erection so firmly between your legs. You couldn’t tell. But you were so freaking hot.

          “Fuck baby,” he groaned against your chin, kissing down your neck sloppily. Trails of saliva  followed as he made it to your chest. He wasted no time in taking one of your eagerly awaiting nipples in his mouth. He lightly nibbled and sucked on the sensitive flesh. His tongue was weirdly talented, even though he hadn’t had many girlfriends before you.

           You usually attributed it to his rapping skills as he had so eloquently put it one time when you, in the heat of the moment, asked him how he could possibly be this good.

          “You’ve heard of what guitarists can do with their hands? This is what rappers do with their tongues.”

          He pulled away from your chest, kissed the nipple, before he blew on it just a tiny bit. He drove you crazy and he knew it. Your eyes rolled into your head. God, you missed him.

          “Joon…if you don’t touch me, I swear-”

          “Baby,” he cut you off again, “I think it’s been too long. You’re forgetting who,” you looked down as his hands grabbed onto the inside of your thighs, “is in charge.”

          You opened your mouth to protest but his own mouth dove right into the folds between your legs kissing with an open mouth and you shut your lips instantly.

          “Fuck,” you said, trying to close your legs but his strong arms kept you open, vulnerable before him.

He lapped at your clitoris with just the very tip of his tongue. He drew shapes and letters. He must have spelled words even, in hangul by the way that his tongue was moving and you just lay there, shivering under his touch.. He really was a talented rapper if what he was doing was any indication.

          He mumbled something against your core, and it sent a vibration of pure delight through your body. You clenched around nothing and let a whine escape your lips. This was not supposed to be about you, but were you a horrible person for suddenly not caring?

          “Wh-what,” you asked, as waves of pleasure surged through your body, his plush lips clamping around the little nub between your legs and sucking gently.

          He withdrew his lips with a lewd squelch and you wrinkled your nose at it. Disappointment surged through you before his voice did.

          “I said,” he licked a long, wide stripe from bottom to top, his eyes firmly on your shocked and blissed out face, “so good.”

          You had no words. You floundered for any semblance of coherent sounds but nothing came to mind. How did sentences work again? Did your voice come from your lips?

          You bit the corner of your bottom lip as he gently kissed around your labia. He let go of your thighs, and used his index finger and thumb on both hands to spread you open. His eyes were greedy, excited. It was like someone had offered him some cotton candy or made him some of that expensive drip coffee he liked. He looked, hungry.

          Without your response, he once again kissed the now very visible and pulsating nub that was filled with blood from arousal. The sensation made your shoulders both relax and tense at the same time. Noticing your reaction, he chuckled, and stuck his tongue out sharply. Without hesitation, he licked back and forward a couple of times. Your legs shook and you had the instinct to clamp them closed but you forced yourself to keep them apart and bent.

          Within seconds, you felt your climax nearing. After a few rounds in this same position, he’d figured out exactly what to do to make you finish. You could still remember telling him when he had first suggested trying this particular act that no one had ever made you finish from just eating you out and not to feel bad if you didn’t climax, but he was determined and after a first time “failure”  -which was relative because what he had done felt great but he felt it wasn’t a success until you came- he set himself to research and was eventually, the first man to make you come in this way.

          It was safe to say that it had gone to his pretty little head. Maybe this was why he liked to do this so much. It was something purely his. Something he could proudly call himself a pioneer of and he was so damn good at it.

          “Joonie,” you whimpered, pulling on his hair tightly so he would slow down, but it was like he knew, and he probably did know, that you were close.

          He doubled his efforts, holding you apart, vulnerable to his talented tongue. You threw your head back. The pleasure was almost too much. Too powerful. The thought that it was Namjoon between your legs making you see stars was almost enough to push you over the edge.

          “Come on gorgeous. i know you want to cum,” he mumbled quickly, going back to the motion he had before with a slight bit more pressure.

          Maybe it was because he pointed it out, or maybe it was because you really were needy, but you did. You felt your body tense almost to the point of discomfort then like a dam filled with water, the pleasure burst, leaving you moaning his name as he lapped at the wetness that still coated your womanhood.

          “Namjoon please oh God,” you whined, trying to pull him off but he wasn’t slowing down.

          Overstimulation was quickly taking over. Your body shivered violently. This time, your legs did snap closed on his head but he didn’t seem to care. He let go of your labia and pried your thighs apart, sucking your clitoris into his mouth harshly.

          Tiny whimpers escaped your lips. It was like you were watching it happen rather than having it done to you. You couldn’t think. Your body acted of its own accord, reacting to every lick and slurp of your boyfriend’s perfect mouth as if on autopilot.

          “Namjoon, it’s too much ,” you begged but he only chuckled and brought a hand closer to your center.

          “I can’t have my sexy girlfriend thinking that I don’t want her anymore,” he said against your skin, “gotta show you how much I need you, baby girl.”

          You gasped, as a finger circled your entrance. The pads of his fingers were a little rough and the texture felt amazing against your sensitive middle. Without warning, he dipped the finger in. You were so wet at that point that his finger met no resistance and he instantly plunged a second finger after it.

          As if he had been trained his whole life for pleasing just you, he found your g-spot near instantly. A small scream of gratification left your swollen lips as he pressed against it over and over and over.

          It wasn’t long before you were at the edge again. Delirious. Desperate for release once more. The pain of over stimulation, long gone and replaced by hyper awareness and desire.

          “I think I’m going to-“

          Stolen from your lips were the words as you clenched around his finger and twitched under his touch. This time, he helped you ride it until goosebumps decorated your skin and when you tugged at his hair once more, he withdrew his head and his hand from your abused core.

          It was a couple of minutes before you were able to properly breathe. Your chest heaved. You could have just ran a mile in six minutes flat with the exhaustion that filled your bones to the brim. When you could finally think clearly, you pushed yourself up and looked for your boyfriend.

          He was waiting patiently on his knees between your own. His face, from his nose to his chin, glistened with the wetness that could only come from between your legs. His chest was bare, and a light sheen of sweat seemed to coat it. He too was breathing heavily but you could tell buy a single glance at his shorts, that he was nowhere near done.

          “Nam-mjoon,” you said, your voice wavering, earning you a giggle from the cute boy before you, “I was  supposed to suck you off. Not have you eat me out…”

          Your arms felt heavy as well as your legs. If you let yourself, you could fall asleep right then but you forced the tiredness away as you looked at Namjoon’s puppy eyes.

          “Do you want me to,” you asked, bracing yourself for his answer. This might be the worst blow job you ever give but if he wanted your lips around him, you would happily oblige.

          “Y/N, you look like you could fall over at any second. i think having you fall asleep around your co-“

          “Joon!”

          He rolled his eyes at your outburst. you always felt a bit strange about him being vulgar when it came to certain body parts but he usually ignored your please and said what he wanted. Today was no different.

          “…cock…would be a blow to my confidence not to my dick.”

          You giggled at his joke and sat up a little straighter. Usually, you would fight him. you hated not reciprocating and especially now that it had been so long since you had a proper night together but there was a real possibility that you could hurt him so you didn’t push on the blow job and made a mental note to award him one at a later date.

          “Okay, fine…but can we at least…” you paused, feeling a blush rush to your cheeks at what you were going to ask.

          “At least?”

          “Don’t make you say it,” you begged, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to sit on his still, annoyingly clothed lap.

          He helped you settle on his legs and held onto your thighs to keep you close. you could feel his erection as hard as ever. It must be painful at this point. You ground your hips just once and he winced. Yeah, he was far too gone.

          You reached up to his lips and wiped some of your own slick from his skin with your thumb. You felt a bit bad at how covered he was. You wiped the thumb on his shorts at which he frowned before you reached up and kissed him softly. The taste of you on his lips was strange. You could never really tell how you felt about it but if one thing was for sure, you were lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend.

          You managed to lick and kiss most of the moisture from his mouth before he spoke again.

          “Can I make love to you?”

          You blinked up at him, surprised. At this point, maybe you shouldn’t have been. He knew you like the back of his hand, or maybe even better than that. You mentally thanked him for saving you the awkwardness of asking for it and nodded your head vigorously.

          His dimples made an appearance as he very suddenly pulled you towards him and on to your back. You squealed, giddy to finally feel him inside you after so long. He let go of your legs and quickly, and might you add, very ungracefully, pushed his shorts and underwear off in one swoop.

          His shaft sprung up. The tip was a deep red and it leaked precum. You couldn’t help but lick your lips. It was thick and long. The kind of thing that you would expect to see in art or in paintings. It was ethereal. Delectable. How could you have let yourself be deprived of this view for so long?

          In an instant, you remembered the feeling of him inside you and your head reeled. If you remembered correctly, this was going to be a stretch.

          Namjoon climbed over you in the blink of an eye. You could tell he was excited because, well it was just something you knew. It was radiating from his body like an aura.

          “Do you think you’re ready,” he asked, kissing your forehead, then your hairline, ever so gently. He peppered kisses all over your face as a smile graced it. You grabbed a hold of his face in both hands and forced him to kiss your lips, which he did without argument.

          “You are too cute Joonie baby,” you mumbled against his lips before you let a hand trail down his toned chest, over his muscular but undefined abs and finally wrapped around his hardened member.

          His smile faltered for an instant, his erection twitched in your hand. You gave it a couple of slow and lavish pumps. You could see the fine hairs on his body stand on end at the sensation and you couldn’t help but giggle.

          “You’re killing me here,” he choked out through gritted teeth.

          “I’m sorry Joonie,” you lied, keeping your pace slow, “I just want to make sure that you’re ready as well.”

          You took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked at it as you squeezed a little tighter around his rod still at the unbearable pace you had set. His body reacted accordingly. Shiver after shiver ran down his spine and his chest convulsed. Had he not jerked off either? He was so wound up.

          “Baby girl, please just let me get in there… I can’t take much more of this,” he whispered against your jaw, leaving a wet kiss before connecting his eyes to yours. you smiled kindly and aligned him with your entrance.

          As soon as you touched his tip to your middle, his shoulders seemed to tense further and you let go, letting him take over.  As if he had read your mind, he gently began to push himself deeper. Was it payback for jerking him off so slowly, or was he scared to hurt you? He was inching his way in so incredibly slow. you could feel every vein in his member, every stroke against your walls. It was both horrible, and amazing all at once.

          Finally, he bottomed out and despite how wet you were from your two orgasms, you felt tears prick your eyes. It had definitely been too long and you weren’t just talking about his member.

          You could feel it in your stomach and he pushed down your lower abdomen just so you could feel it better. This was another thing he was proud of. No one had gone as deep as him. He was by far, the longest and girthiest you had ever had and he always made sure you remembered it.

          A groan left his lips as he shifted his hips so you could feel him move inside of you. He wiped a tear away from your cheek and kissed the trail it had left behind.

          “You feel that baby girl,” he asked gently, “that’s all for you. Only for you.’

          He began to pull out at the same pace that he had impaled you and you whimpered, wanting…no needing more. He was almost fully pulled out before he slowly began to push back in.

          Namjoon grabbed the hand that had been jerking him off and replaced his hand on your stomach with it. Then that hand came up and gently gripped around your neck. Your heart skipped a beat.

          “How does that feel baby? Does it hurt?”

          “Yeah,” you nearly screamed and he stopped mid thrust. You could see the fear in his eyes as he looked all over your face for some sign of what he had done wrong.

          “It hurts because you’re going way too slow you doof,” you clarified, and he instantly relaxed.

          “You scared me, Y/N.”

          “Joonie please move faster,” you begged, ignoring his previous statement.

          He sighed which shook a little as your walls contracted around his length. His grip on your neck tightened with your muscles and a shock of pleasure ran through your stomach. You let an unsteady moan escape your lips which was swallowed up as he leaned down, his sex still only about a quarter of the way in, and traced your lips with his tongue.

          You clenched around him once again. He bit your upper lip roughly, then kissed it and your nose lightly. It was so confusing. The way he could be sickeningly sweet and at the same time be torturing you with his hands and his length. The mix of emotion made a fog in your head that kept you from seeing what was coming next.

          “I’ll move my love,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps erupted all over your body. You let your eyes shut to better appreciate all of the pleasure you were receiving , intoxicated with the scent of his skin, and the way that his voice floated into your ear.

          “If you say my name,” he whispered, licking the cartilage nearest his lips.

          You knew it would come to this. You’d been too mouthy. Too self-righteous. It had been a long time since we’d shared a bed this way and you let your eagerness and desperation get the best of you. Now, you were truly going to have to pay for it. That is, if you kept up your refusal to give him what he wanted. Would you really want to risk getting denied an orgasm just to keep up your brat routine?

          An mortified blush covered your cheeks up to your forehead. It wasn’t that it made you uncomfortable. It was a turn on to you too, but there was something embarrassing about calling him something so deeply fetishized. It sounded strange coming out of your mouth and made you cringe, but you knew that if you just gave him what he wanted, we would both be satisfied.

          “Yes daddy,” you whimpered.

          It happened in a millisecond. His hand squeezed around your windpipe, he bit down on your ear and he thrust his hip hard against your core.

          A muted cry was ripped from your vocal cords. His tip hit just as deep as it had the first time. You could feel it in your stomach. You never really thought that could be possible but here you were, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.

          Like a switch was flipped, he pounded into the wet mouth of your arousal, the slickness helping to keep it mostly painless. Still, the burn couldn’t be stopped as he stretched you farther than any fingers could. Moans fell from your lips like prayers. Namjoon grunted every time his hips met yours. A lewd clapping bounced off the walls.

          There was no stopping him now. It was like a magic word and you knew that as soon as you’d said it, there was no going back.

          Namjoon used the hand not around your neck to hold himself up and over you. Beads of sweat had started to form on his hair line with the effort he was exerting. A sexy wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he squeezed his eyes shut. His breaths were coming out hard, and loud. He sounded like he was running a race and he was pushing himself to the end. It was music to your ears. Sounds more appealing than any symphony or singer you had ever heard.

          Maybe you had zoned out, because when you zoned back in, your voice was mixed in with his. His real name was mixed in with shouts of “more” and “don’t stop”. You knew that later, after it was all said and done, the noises you were making would haunt you, but in the moment, you pushed away your insecurities and focused on the feeling of being full.

          “Yes,” you gasped as he hit your g-spot, repeatedly on the way in and out. Gratification was flowing through you like a river.

          “Yes what Jagi,” Namjoon asked, readjusting himself onto his knees so he didn’t have to hold himself up.

          He grabbed onto one of your breasts and gave it a light squeeze before he flicked the nipple. Question forgotten, your breath caught in your throat but he abandoned your chest in favor of something lower. He traced lines into your stomach. Designs he’d come up on the spot that you’d have to remaster into a design of some sort if you still remembered them after you were done. It was beautiful. The way that you made love.

          Beautiful, how you  mixed together. A beautiful color that couldn’t be store bought or mass produced. It was you. Purely, and unequivocally you.

          You choked as his wandering hand found your clit once more, rubbing tight and precise circles. It was too much, and he knew this. His fingers on your pulse point, his index on your sensitive bud, and his member inside you. It was everything you could ask for, and when your body froze, tense from his caress, it was no surprise to either of you.

          “Namjoon,” you gasped as your walls convulsed around him, his speed even. It was getting harder to breath and it wasn’t because of the pressure on your windpipes but because once again, over stimulation was setting in. You winced as he pumped in and out at an inhumane speed. It was crazy. How could he hold himself off this long.

          “I’m almost there baby, where do you want me,” he asked, his voice hoarse and deep and gravely.

          “In-in me… I want you in me Joonie,” you panted.

          Was it slightly inconvenient to have his ejaculation inside you? Yes. Was it nice to be so wet after we had sex? No. Did you give a single crap in that moment? No. No,you didn’t. All you knew was that you needed him. You needed to feel like you were his and like before, this was something that only he had ever done to you and it made it special.

          As if that was all that he was waiting for, Namjoon stilled. His erection twitched inside you and then he came. He spilled into you. Hot and thick. you couldn’t help but let your eyes roll back into your head as his ejaculation dripped from your entrance. You squeezed around him just to try and help and were rewarded with a grunt of satisfaction.

          “Fuck Y/N,” he huffed, removing his hand from your neck and your core to help steady him. His length had started to soften and you could tell that, much like you, he was exhausted.

          He pulled out, wincing as the cold air hit his member.You, in turn, grimaced as his cum dripped down your thighs. You’d have to wash the bed sheets today.

          Namjoon laid down beside you. Your body bounced as he adjusted his body. He draped an arm around your waist, cuddling into your side. Your bodies stuck together. Sweat, and well…other liquids clung to your skin.

          You allowed yourself to relax into him for a couple of minutes. Your breathing pattern evened before you sighed happily and pushed him off of you. Namjoon whimpered as you carefully swung your legs over the edge of your bed. The uncomfortable feel of something flowing out  of you made you shiver.

          “Where are you going,” he asked in Korean. His tone whiney and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at him over your bare shoulder. His eyes were big and a small frown decorated his lips. He was too cute to handle.

          You planted a kiss on his frown before you turned back to the edge of the bed to press your legs together. Maybe it would stop the ejaculate.

          “I need to shower,” you reasoned, bracing yourself, knowing you would have to run to the restroom if you wanted to avoid having to mop the floor again.

          “Can’t we cuddle for a little while,” Namjoon begged but you just shook your head dreading what you knew was to come.

          “After we shower, yeah.”

          You felt him sit up behind you. He gently kissed your shoulder and wrapped his strong…muscular…arms…

          You blinked at his muscles around you like a deer in headlights but shook your head. You could still feel how tired your muscles were from what you had just done. You couldn’t do it this soon again.

          “Can I at least shower with you,” he asked, nuzzling into the back of your neck.

          “Yes, of course,” you said, reaching behind yourself and scratching his head. You felt him, rather than saw him, relax against your back and you smiled.

          “Are you less stressed,” he asked you and you sighed.

          “I feel alright, Joonie. Could you tell I was really stressed?”

          You turned to look at him. He had a knowing smirk on his face that made your blood boil and embarrassment pool in your belly. He grazed his lips over the damp skin that spanned under his finger and when he spoke, it was against the nerves on your body that stood on end for him.

          “You talk in your sleep sometimes,” he said matter-of-factly. You sighed. Given away by your subconscious.

          “Oh.”

          “Besides, I have been watching you grade papers. You get this cute little fold between your eyebrows when you’re thinking too hard,” he rested a finger against your forehead where he indicated and massaged it in little circles. You let your shoulders fall. Who did you think you were kidding?

          “I see… well I’m feeling a little better. Hopefully I can get some ideas to get my students to be more interested now that I’m not so wound up.”

          “You’re a fantastic teacher,” Namjoon reasoned stroking your slightly messy hair, “you’ll figure it out.”

          “Yeah… I know you’re right,” you sighed letting a comfortable silence fall between you. Your brain was buzzing once again but this time it wasn’t stressful. It was with ideas for your classroom. You smiled, feeling a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

          “I’m sure I’ll come up with something,” you shifted the conversation, “what about you? Any sudden inspiration for your lyrics?”

          He didn’t speak and his chest tensed behind you. You felt like you had popped the bubble you were in. you should have kept your mouth shut.

          “Yes actually,” he said but it didn’t feel directed at you. Within seconds, he’d let go of your body and was up, pulling on his boxers and looking for his phone. He frantically pulled up the notes app on it and typed furiously.

          The shock quickly melted into amusement. You giggled at how his fingers slid over the glass screen. His focus on his cell.

          “Well I’m glad I could help,” you said, finally standing up. you felt the liquid inside you shift and with a panicked last look at your inspired boyfriend, you ran to the restroom on the first floor.

          “I’ll be in the shower. Have fun writing,” you yelled.

           You thought you heard him say something but it was too muffled for you to understand. You didn’t wait for him to meet you in the bathroom. Instead, you jumped in,washing between your legs thoroughly and scrubbing your skin. When you were done, Namjoon was sitting on the floor of the living room. His laptop, journal and phone spread out on the coffee table. He had his airpods in and he was bobbing his head to something you couldn’t hear.

          You didn’t interrupt. Instead you looked over his makeshift workstation and smiled.  His journal was turned to one of the pages of lyrics that he’d been stuck on for months. Fresh ink rested on the browning lines and my heart soared. Turned out that our bad moods and mutual slumps were directly related to our lack of sexual life. Duly noting that fact, I kissed the top of his head and made my way back upstairs to get my bed sheets to wash, a smile plastered on my lips.