#i should be studying for finals but i needed to organize my thoughts

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - DD - May 9 & 11

I’m combining both of these entries into one since I have similar thoughts about both!

First off, yay we get our first time meeting Mina and Lucy!!!!!!!! And may I just say it’s great to see these girls being besties and chatting? You can tell just by the way they write that they have known each other a long time. Bram actually did a good job writing these women talking to each other. It feels natural and organic. Finally a “men writing women” moment where I don’t want to gag. I will still never get over the adaptations pitting these two lovely ladies against each other!! Why do we still feel the need to make them “compete.” Ugh :(

Mina’s Letter - I love how she starts right away with “forgive me for not writing you.” She already KNOWS Lucy is going to get on her for that, lol. Also her gushing about Jonathan is adorable and I love how she talks about writing to him in code. Those two nerds, they’re going to end me with their cuteness. Also, studying lady journalists to help with your journalism? What a queen doing that research. As she should! Again, it’s the bare minimum, but Stoker really did a good job with this one I must say. Seeing her be hopeful about Jonathan’s trip to Transylvania and the subsequent promise of seeing places like that together is a bit sobering. :( that is, until we reach her PS!

“You have not told me anything for a long time.” This line makes me want to laugh for some reason and I’m not quite sure why? Maybe it’s because I can hear a slightly scolding tone when she says it, or maybe because I can totally see me telling one of my friends this, especially to goad them into telling me the tea. Either way, it’s great.

“I hear rumours, and especially of a tall, handsome, curly-haired man???”

I’m convinced Stoker read my texts or something because LOL that’s literally how I type! The idea of her writing “???” is adorable and I love it so much. Also by “rumors” does she mean Lucy’s mom? I’m pretty sure she means Lucy’s mom. I think it’s funny the first really descriptive thing we really hear of Arthur is his curly hair!

We can get a good glimpse of Mina’s personality just by this letter. We can already tell she’s genuinely excited to be married to Jonathan and help with his work. She is also very methodical, as she is thinking of several different ways she can practice her stenography and shorthand to help assist him. Like Jonathan, she does her research by reading up on how women in similar fields conduct their craft. She is obviously hopeful and in love with him, as she dreams of seeing new places with him after they are married.

However, she does not neglect Lucy in her missive! While her letter is mostly about Jonathan (which I assume is likely due to to Lucy asking after him and most engaged people do tend to talk about their fiancé — just look at Jonathan), she does take time at the beginning and ending of the letter to a) assure Lucy she misses her and b) tell her the latest news ASAP!! This shows that she deeply cares about her friend, even with her impending nuptials.

Lucy’s Letter - “I must say you tax me very unfairly with being a bad correspondent. I wrote to you twice since we parted, and your last letter was only your second.”

Yep, sure enough, Lucy gets on Mina for not writing to both of her letters (I do wonder if Mina answered everything that was in both letters…). Of course, it’s in a good-natured way and it gives me the same vibes as Rarity from MLP:FIM fainting into a couch or something and I am HERE FOR IT (for those who don’t watch the show, I genuinely mean this as a compliment. I love Rarity -- also I could probably make a whole post about Dracula characters as MLP characters, hmm…).

“Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really nothing to interest you.”

*Proceeds to list the hottest gossip* I love this girl so much. She has my whole heart.

“Some one has evidently been telling tales.”

Yep, definitely Lucy’s mom! I would love to see the letters between Mina and Lucy’s mom tbh.

Also when talking about Arthur, it’s so adorable because you can tell at first she only tries to sprinkle in a little bit about him, like “oh he’s just someone I met” and then it quickly morphs into “we met this guy who would be great for you” (Seward mention!!!! Can’t wait to meet everyone’s favorite pathetic wet cat /pos) to “I’m already picking up his slang and using his first name and did I mention IM IN LOVE WITH HIM????”

You can already learn so much about Lucy from this first letter. She’s sweet and caring to the people around her, lively about everything and a bit unsure about love (since she doesn’t quite know if Arthur loves her back). I looked up her age (idk if that counts as spoilers but I’ll tag this as such just in case) and she’s 19!!! This is exactly the kind of letter I would expect a 19-year-old to write to her best friend. I just love how excited she sounds, as she should!!! She’s a young girl in love, perhaps for the first time, and wants her best friend to know. I do love how she tells Mina “write back to me IMMEDIATELY with your thoughts.” Same, Lucy, same.

Back to Seward. It’s so funny to me that he wants to make a psychological study of her while staring straight into her soul and she seems to be chill with it!! Like she still loves Arthur, but she’s also not put off by Jack, either. He’s just got that neurodivergent urge to study her under a microscope and honestly, who can blame him? I can also see why Lucy would ship Seward and Mina together; obviously, I’m a diehard Jonmina shipper (and I’m pretty sure Lucy is too, she just likes chaos), but I feel like Mina and Seward would totally bond over train schedules and other nerd stuff.

So, to sum it up, I love both of these girls and their friendship so much and I can’t wait to see more of them!!! Eeeee

[hesherehesthere]

This is going to be a long post, and probably all over the place, but I've been really fixated on Roy and Nate as parallels and contrasts to one another, and I have a lot of thoughts.

This rant is particularly going to be about the ways in which Nate and Roy's masculinity presents, how both of them are men with severe insecurities that manifest in different ways, as well as the ways in which Nate's jealousy of Roy contributes to his arc.

When I first saw Ted Lasso, I initially interpreted Nate's arc as being a combination of toxic masculinity merging with the fact that Twitter is fucking poison for your brain. I do think that's part of it, but I think there's a lot more to it as well. With that being said, that's as good a place as any to start.

In my mind, Nate is essentially the embodiment of toxic fragile masculinity, where Roy is more representative of (mostly) non-toxic strong masculinity. Roy's insecurities are not particularly focused on his masculinity. He doesn't care about Keeley gossiping about him until he realizes she's been talking about something he's insecure about, and he hangs out with older women and drag queens, without any worries about how that reflects on him as a man. Roy's insecurities revolve much more around the end of his career and not knowing who he is as a person, with a healthy dose of wondering if he's a bad person or fundamentally unlovable. Roy is masculine in a very traditional kind of way. However, he uses that masculinity to help other people (for example, both Sam and Nate in S1), unlike Nate, who, particularly in S2 onward, comes across as less masculine and more bully.

Roy is also more internal and self destructive, while Nate is more external and lashes out at others as a result of his insecurities.

To continue along thought, I think it's important to note that Roy has always been a big defender of Nate. It is made extremely clear that Roy has never been particularly fond of the way that people (notably Jamie, Isaac and Colin) treat Nate in S1, but it goes beyond that. Roy is also shown to consistently go out of his way to acknowledge, congratulate, and give Nate credit for things, even after he's come on as a coach in S2. All throughout S2, there are a number of different moments where Roy will go to Nate to hug or cheer with him, Roy acknowledges Nate with a little head nod when he comes back on as a coach in 2x5, as well as several verbal scenes (Roy going to Nate's office to congratulate him on his park the bus play, Roy telling Rebecca "This has nothing to do with me, this was all Nate", etc).

A bit of an aside, but this also seems like a testament to the fact that Roy isn't big on grudges, because despite all the reasons he should be disgruntled, he's still more than okay with letting Nate come back to Richmond in S3. "I don't give a fuck. He's great at the shit I suck at." Even after all the fallout, Roy is still acknowledging that Nate is smart, someone he would be willing to work with, and a significant asset to the team.

Roy has always been a big Nate defender, so it hurts that Nate doesn't even seem to see it, particularly into S2, when he has been given more power. Obviously, he does acknowledge and thank Roy in 1x4, but after that point he doesn't seem to think about it much. I think that Nate is essentially blinded by his jealousy of Roy, to the point that he is unable to see his true intentions, because he so desperately wants to be him, or at least be like him.

In 2x5, when Nate is at A Taste of Athens, he laughs at something that Roy says during his pundit stint. He laughs at Roy tearing into Cartrick, specifically when he makes a comment about him pissing his pants. However, it's important to note that Roy was so aggressive in that scene in direct response to Cartrick being overtly sexist, which doesn't seem to be something that Nate particularly acknowledges. I don’t think that Nate agrees with Cartrick by any means, but I also don’t know if it really plays into why he thinks that interaction is funny.

Nate definitely feels personally attacked by Roy's coming back as a coach. This is probably due in part to the fact that he comes back after Ted essentially laughs at him and tells him that he doesn't think that he can help Isaac through his mental block, but that he thinks that Roy can. His insecurities are made worse by being next to Roy, as he feels as though he needs to prove himself.

I think this is supported by the fact that Nate also gets a lot more verbally aggressive after Roy's back, though he was making slow progress in that direction anyways. In some ways it almost feels like he's trying to copy Roy, to compete with him and embody him.

Because of this, I also want to briefly mention the scene where Nate kisses Keeley. I think it is implied throughout the show, as early as S1, that Nate has always liked her, at least a little bit. Keeley is casually touchy and affectionate as a person, and Nate could have interpreted those signals as her (possibly) being into him. Though he clearly regrets kissing her, in the leadup to that scene, he also laughs at Keeley's impression of Roy, where she's gently making fun of him. I think that it could have boosted his ego a bit to hear Roy being put down. I think his jealousy could have combined with that ego boost and played into that scene.

Another thing to mention is the fact that Roy is not particularly threatened by Nate kissing Keeley, where he is threatened by Jamie telling Keeley that he loves her.

Nate is upset about that because he thinks that Roy should be more mad at him, because he is a threat damnit, but I also wonder how much of Roy not being threatened is that he also somewhat considers Nate to be a friend. Though I don't think that Roy is threatened by him, I think it's also clear that he does like Nate, and even respects him. (I think there's also something to be said about the fact that Roy is more threatened by Jamie, not because he's more of a man than Nate, but because he and Keeley have a history, but that's a whole other tangent that I won't go on today).

I think that's all I have to say on the topic for now; sorry if this post didn't make any sense, I mostly wrote it out to try and organize my own thoughts. If someone else gets something out of it, that would be a great bonus.

[papercorgiworld]

Can i request a Mattheo Theo and(or, how many u feel like writing) enzo with an older gf maybe like a girl who'd walk em like a dog and in a second they're like "Yes maam whatever you say🧎‍♂️" byw love ur writing I'm obsessed with ur works!!

I kinda wasn't taking request, but I suck at saying no and I just kinda felt like writing this. This is just short and quick, but it was a really fun idea. I gave it a bit more of a specific context, I hope you don't mind. Thank you so much for sending this my way. I hope you like it, bc I really loved your idea. I wrote this in like an hour or so, let me know if you spot any errors. Also currently 2k+ words into a very fluffy muffin coded Mattheo piece. So this is more like a suggestive snack. Enjoy my dears!

Warning: suggestive

I added a part two.

Whipped for their tutor

Mattheo

Mattheo had been skipping too many classes and his latest test had reduced Mcgonagall to tears, so it was tutoring sessions or no quidditch for the rest of the year. So here he was waiting outside of the transfiguration's classroom as the professor informed his tutor on all the material he needed to catch up with. The list was really long and Mattheo was starting to get embarrassed. Especially when he heard the professor refer to his latest test. He really wasn't stupid, he just neglected his studies for a bite too long.

He heard chairs shuffle and moved away from the door. The door opened and Mattheo's mouth almost fell open. You've got to be kidding me. (y/n). Fuck. Everyone at Hogwarts had a crush on you and in Mattheo's case it wasn't just an innocent crush. No, the thoughts he had about you were far from innocent. Professor Mcgonagall's voice pulled Mattheo out of his trance. "Mister Riddle, this is miss (y/l/n), she'll try to save your grade."

You smiled at Mattheo as he nodded at the professor's words. He was cute you couldn't deny that, but seriously the staring was obvious. When the professor left you two alone Mattheo chuckled nervously making you roll your eyes. Wasn't Mattheo Riddle supposed to be a big bad boy? You turn on your heels. "Follow me, I reserved us a classroom." Your voice is sweet and Mattheo feels himself heat up to an unhealthy degree. Yes, mommy. He stares at your ass for a second and then quickly walks after you.

"Mattheo Riddle." Mattheo introducing himself when he catches up with you and you smirk, before licking your bottom lip. "Oh, I know who you are." Mattheo smirks, feeling confident a his reputation. "I've also seen your grades." Mattheo's smug smile drops and he falls silent for a moment. You open the door to an empty classroom and enter, walking over to a table to lay your books on. "I'm actually not stupid." Mattheo finally manages to say and you look up as you organize your books. When you don't say anything he walks closer. "I just didn't work hard enough." He explains and you sit down. "Well, I guess I'm just here to make sure you work for it this time." You tilt your head and watch him almost drool.

"Sit." Mattheo nods and complies. Nothing left of this bad boy. He reaches for his books. "You should start with summarizing chapters 3 to 6." Mattheo huffs. "I never make summaries, I'll just read it over." You lean a little closer and rest a hand on his thigh, making him almost gulp at you touch. "Matty, be a good boy and summarize chapter 3 to 6 for me." Your lips near his ear have his dick twitch in his pants and if your hand would move even an inch you would feel it. Mattheo can't remember the last time he's blushed, but right now his face is reddening as he stares at his book. Slowly he moves his eyes, first to your half opened blouse and then to your perfect lips. "Yes, ma'am." Is all the notorious Mattheo Riddle can say before he opens his books and starts doing the work.

Theodore

He was late and hearing from the laughter in the hallway, he wasn't in a hurry. "That Gryffindor goat just failed me bc she hates Slytherins." You roll your eyes at Theodore's arrogant voice echoing through the hallway, approaching the classroom you were supposed to meet at half an hour ago. "Can't believe you're stuck with a tutor, mate." Mattheo chuckled and you focus on Theodore's test in your hands. "I know, I probably can teach them more than they can teach me." Theo laughs as he opens the door and you tilt your head with a cheeky smile on your lips. "I doubt that." Is all you say and Theodore stares up and down your figure as you sat so elegantly and perfectly. Mattheo stands behind his friend mouth hanging.

"I might need some tutoring as well." Mattheo says his voice squeaky, making him look down in embarrassment. "No doubt, but this session is reserved for Theodore. I can call you Theodore, right?" There's a teasing tone to your voice but both boys are too enchanted by you to notice. "Anything." Theodore breathes as he takes a few steps towards the table you were sitting at. "Mattheo." You say looking past Theo. "You can close the door." Mattheo smiles bright as you say his name and does as you say, only once outside he realizes how foolish he must've looked.

Theodore was now alone left at your mercy. "Are you just gonna stand there?" Theo shakes his head and smiles like a love struck puppy. You were the hottest and most unreachable girl at Hogwarts and now he got to sit next to you, smell your perfume and take in your perfect features from up close. "I don't actually need tutoring." Theo said with a half smirk on his lips, faking confidence. "Your latest test says otherwise." You move the piece of parchment over the table towards the Slytherin, who's immediately flustered. He really doesn't need his dream girl thinking he's stupid. "I say we start by correcting the mistakes you made and filling in the blanks you left." Theodore chuckles, he really didn't want you of all people to tutor him like he was a little boy. He needed to you see him as a man for far from innocent reasons. "I don't think that's necessary." Theodore protests.

You scoot a little closer to him and lay your hand on his thigh, gently moving between his legs. An unsteady breath leaves his parted lips. You owned him and you both knew it. "Don't be like that Theo, just do the work... for me." Another breath leaves his lips and he reaches for his quill, like a good boy. Cute and whipped, exactly how I like them.

Enzo

It wasn't even his fault. Mattheo and Theodore had gotten him high and he had written the word 'soup' as an answer to every question. Now he had to skip quidditch training to go hang with this tutor. With his hands in his pockets he entered the library, scanning the room for his appointed tutor. That's when he saw you. Gods, you were a view. He smiled, immediately getting flustered, you were out of his league and he knew it, but damn you were fine to look at.

"Lorenzo, right?" She's talking to me. Oh by Salazar, it's happening! Say something! "Lorenzo?" You snap your fingers in front him and his smile turns goofy. "Sorry. I was fantasizing- I mean dreaming- thinking." You press your lips into a line you were used to guys getting a little nervous around you, but this guy couldn't even hide it and that just made him adorable af. "I'm your tutor." You don't bother introducing yourself, since you had caught him staring at you enough times for him to know your name and sizes. "Tutor?" The Slytherin seemed to panic at the idea, but you chose to ignore it leaving him with some of his dignity.

"Come on. I was just planning on getting your books." Enzo nods and watches you walk, making you turn after a few seconds and raising your eyebrows. "Come on, Enzo." He sighs at the way you say his name, like you did it better than any other girl. He hurries and follows your every step carrying every book that you summon. Suddenly you turn on your heels and Enzo almost bumps into you, smiling at you as his eyes rest to your soft lips. Probably fantasizing. "Let's start studying, shall well." You announce and despite the discouraging pile of books Enzo quickly nods. "Yes, ma'am." You chuckle. Whipped. With him still trailing behind you a dirty thought sets root, maybe a younger and utterly whipped guy like Lorenzo Berkshire might make a good sugar baby.

[blackopals-world]

HEAR ME OUT Epel loveessss masc special forces yuu. Epel thinks he's so big and strong and cool. Yeah, sure, he can be a bit of a creep like Rook.... but he teaches Epel so many cool things! I have this one thought in my head where yuu takes epel out to the woods behind the campus for a few "hunting games" and even though he was really weirded out at first, epel has so much fun, especially since he got to be as rough and boyish and manly as he wanted to be without Vil around. When yuu returns epel to pomefiore, Vil is absolutely horrified at the state of them! They're so dirty, and they smell weird, and epel has a really creepy glint in his eye, and yuu's smile is so unsettling, and is that- is that blood????? Meanwhile, rook is laughing and throwing his arms over their shoulders, hustling both yuu and epel into the largest bathroom before roi du poison pops a vessel. Vil is going to give yuu and epel the scrub down of a lifetime in that tub, and seeing special forces yuu naked makes epel realise just how much growth he has to do before he can be a real man like yuu 😭😭

Apprentice

Masc Special Forces!Yuu and Epel

Sorry this post ended up being cut short due to network issues on my end.

Epel couldn't believe it when he first laid eyes on Yuu. He was built like a brick shithouse. Tall, strong, and most of all cool as hell. Smug but not like Leona who talks more then he acts. Hell, Yuu made him look like a kitten because he didn't what around to prove shit. People should prove themselves to Yuu, not the other way around.

Epel saw him again at the upper level of the gymnasium. The weight room doubled as the gymnastics room and Yuu probably used the equipment every day. Sure Vil and Rook worked out but Yuu's routine was intense.

Yuu was taking a break from the pull-up rack as he drank water and dried the sweat from his face with towel. Nevermind that he was covered in sweat, his muscles shining in the florescent lights. Yuu had chosen to not wear a shirt and only had his military pants and lace-up boots on.

"So cool!" Epel thought as he watched Yuu.

Yuu leaned back nonchalantly as he took something out of his bag. Then in a flash a knife embedded itself next to Epel's head.

Yuu laughed at the frozen underclassmen. He stood and hovered over Epel's hiding place.

"You got good reflexes, boy. If you tried to move you'd have ended up getting cut." Yuu smirked.

Epel scrambled to get up as he faced Yuu head-on.

"So tell me what's Vil's priceless little fluffy bunny doing here? If I remember you and your lot aren't even allowed near me. After all I'm too dangerous for his taste." Yuu said as if he heard a hilarious joke.

"I'm not a bunny!" Epel said indignantly. If he wanted Yuu to like him then he needed to prove he isn't like the rest of Pomefiore.

"Wow, the bunny was teeth." Yuu smirked. "Better watch out before Vil files them down. You might not want to be like the rest of the sycophants."

"Then teach me. I want to be like you!" Epel yelled.

Yuu doubled over in laughter as he sputtered. He had heard the best joke yet.

Epel turned red as Yuu slapped him on the shoulder as his laughter finally stopped.

"Oh boy, Rook was right about you bunny. You wanna be like me? That's not an easy thing to do. That's a lot of training and pain. You think a soft little bunbun like you can take it?" Yuu said.

"I'm not a bunny! And I'm not soft! I can take it!" Epel said fiercely.

Yuu slapped the boy on the back causing Epel's organs to rattle against his rib cage.

"That's the spirit bunny. And you're bunny as long as I say you are. Thems the rules in basic training." Yuu quipped "Now get changed unless you want to drop and give me 50 in your fancy uniform."

Yuu was merciless on Epel. He was kept on a rigorous daily exercise regiment and weapon training. If Yuu thought that Epel had adjusted for a minute he worked the boy harder.

Epel followed Yuu around like a duckling as he studied the senior's movements. He'd copy the wolfish lumbering gait he had, as he stalked through the halls. Yuu spelled danger and his glare was like daggers but he was so confident. Epel had a feeling that he was getting closer to being like that.

"Faster!" Yuu yelled as he watched Epel struggle to reassemble the rifle "Your mind must be sharp. Hone it like you have your body. At this rate we'll have to cancel you advanced training trip."

Epel's ear perked when he heard that. Advanced training. Yuu promised that if he got the basics finished within the month at when break started they'd go camping. Yuu was going to teach him all the cool tricks he did like: moving silently, jumping through trees, parkour, and taking down targets.

"Really?!" Epel was bursting with excitement before getting hit on the back of the head.

"Focus on your gun! And yes really. If you can finish in 20 seconds." Yuu smirked.

The trip wasn't what Epel expected. Sure they were going camping but Epel had expected it to be just him and Yuu. But it won't be because Rook didn't want to mind his own business.

The worst part is watching Rook flirt constantly with Yuu which is like watching a bull challenge a brick wall. Not happening!

Rook even took his place next to Yuu's sleeping bag which is the warmest place in the tent. Epel had to manipulate his way into getting Yuu to agree to force Rook into changing spots and Epel got to use Yuu as a pillow.

He discovered that Rook had a creepy look in his eye when he was jealous.

Between hiking, training, fishing, getting scooped up and thrown down a waterfall by Yuu, laying traps, being left behind overnight and forced to survive the forest alone until he found Yuu again after 2 days, the trip was amazing.

Yuu had one last test for Epel to test his manhood.

"Okay bunny all you need is to kill it." Yuu said pointing to the snare trap.

They had laid the traps a day before and a small rabbit had got caught by the foot. The beast has heaving from exhaustion as it watched him with beady red eyes.

"Come on bunny, you've seen me and Rook do stuff like this before. If you want me to stop calling you bunny then you need to take the knife and make it quick. Don't let it suffer." Yuu stood over Epel like a sentry luming over him.

Epel's heart raced as he hovered over it. He knew Rook was waiting too. Watching. Judging.

But he...he couldn't do it. It was just a poor rabbit.

Epel quickly cut the snare as he gently worked the rabbit's foot out of the knot. Then he looked at Yuu firmly.

"I won't kill it. It's just a rabbit. It never hurt anyone. I don't want to be the kind of man that kills for the sake of being called manly." Epel braced himself for a slap on the back of the head but it didn't happen.

Instead, a large hand ruffled his hair.

"You did good bunny. You passed." Yuu chuckled putting the knife back in its hilt before passing it on to Epel.

Epel clutched the dagger in his hands.

"Really?!" He could hardly believe it.

"Yeah, listen kid. I learned the hard way that theirs a difference between a good soldier and a good man. Me, I'm a soldier. I do what I'm told, follow orders, kill when told. I didn't get that choice, morals were luxuries I couldn't afford. But a man, a good one makes their own decisions. You gotta be a man. Not a monster like us. Trust me when I say you don't want to be like me. You gotta learn to be your own man." Yuu said putting a hand on Epel's shoulder. "That knife is proof of that. It's seen a lot of blood. You will too, soon enough. Hold it responsibly, it has two edges after all."

Epel felt a glow of pride. He did it! He proved himself. He was a man.

"I'm really a man now?" Epel asked

Yuu laughed good humoredly.

"No no no, you still have a lot to learn. Alot to do and experience. You've barely got the basics bunny. But you're getting there. Till then your just Bunny."

Yeah, Yuu's not that charitable. He's got to push Epel to his limits. Plus if Epe becomes a man like he wants then he's not going to try to manipulate his way into sleeping next to Yuu again by saying he gets too cold to sleep alone. Yuu doesn't want to lose that.

But he didn't know Yuu had planned for two lessons that day. Epel had learn when not to kill but he needed to learn when to kill.

Rook and Yuu had gotten permission to deal with a group of wild boars causing problems and it would be Epel's first taste of blood before Yuu considers dangerous targets.

You should have seen Vil's face when the group returned. Covered in dirt, sweat, and possibly (100%) blood.

Yuu hauled one of the giant boars they caught over his shoulder. It was going to make for good meat for barbecue tonight. Especially since Epel cut its throat himself. It's enough to make a man proud.

Unfortunately, Vil didn't want it in the dorm and certainly didn't want blood everywhere. Vil had the group hose off outside before they were even about to step foot of the grounds.

Rook tried his best to get Vil to calm down before taking them to be scrubbed down.

Epel swore he saw Vill and Yuu share a look before Yuu smirked as Vil glowered. Yuu was so cool, even Rook can't say anything to him.

Yep, definitely Epel was going to be just like his idol.

(Yuu throwing Epel over a waterfall)

(This is Yuu's form of gentle parenting. Gently throw them)

[yoichiris]

if i had a choice | isagi yoichi x reader

✩ you think you never stood a chance. ✩ highschool fic, heavy pining, angst with happy ending, manga spoilers for u20 arc

i'll be watching with all my support. i like you, isagi-kun.

you leave the note, along with a pair of wristbands, in isagi's locker the day of qualifying match for nationals. you had believed he would make it.

isagi doesn't come back to ichinan after losing.

you don't hear until a week later that a special program organized by the jfu has begun, and all of japan's top strikers under 18 have been invited to participate. you have no doubt that isagi is there, because he's been amazing since you've known him.

another week passes, and you hear that his mom has passed by to pick up everything from his locker.

you remember sitting with isagi at lunchtime the weeks before, pouring over strategy notes for the game. you remember watching him practice after school, turning to grin at you when he would score a goal.

you remember the coldness that had washed over you when matsukaze won the qualifying match for nationals and saw the look on isagi's face.

he disappears after that.

your heart pounds when you hear about the blue lock's match against the u20 team.

you are not prepared to see isagi on this stage. he looks completely different from the last time you saw him on your tiny high school field. there are thousands of people around you, hollering, and he's right in the middle.

you watch as he weaves across the field, his movement evolved, executing plays that you two couldn't have even have dreamt of in your notebook.

you can't take your eyes off of him. the determination that had been simmering under him before was in full force, and you could feel it. that he wasn't going to settle for less, anything worse than the best.

you grip the notebook that you had stupidly brought. it was nothing compared to this, to project blue lock. you were nothing compared to them.

you cry when isagi scores the final goal. everything about it is perfect, down to the millisecond. you understand, after all, that he's no longer the boy in your class, someone you could share your passion for soccer with.

he becomes isagi yoichi, the striker who will lead japan to win the u20 world cup.

you're at your desk studying, the notebook off to the side, when your phone buzzes.

[17:04] hey yn [17:04] do you have time come out today? [17:05] we can meet by the river, if that's okay

your heart jumps to your throat. it's been a week since the u20 match and the thought had not even crossed your mind that he still had your number.

the breezy air outside makes you shiver as you walk to the river. you sit on the grassy slope that you and isagi had shared popsicles on once.

you hear his footsteps behind you, but you're scared to turn around. you're not sure why you're here, anyway.

"yn!" isagi greets, sounding exactly like he did before he left.

you turn to look at him, straining a smile for him. he looks happy. without his blue lock uniform, you think he could be like before. but you remember the goal, and you think probably not.

you know you should congratulate him on his match, but you can't bring yourself to say anything about the event that had solidified his life away from you.

"i, uh, just got your gift," he says, after a moment of silence, "kaasan left it in my room while i was gone."

you had forgotten about the gift. the note.

"oh," you say, breathless. "do you like it?"

he laughs, "i don't wear wrist bands anymore, but i appreciate it." he looks down, "and we didn't even qualify for nationals."

ah, you think. he doesn't need them anymore.

"you won the u20 match, though," you say instead, voice on the verge of cracking, "you were amazing."

you watch as his face lights up, and even if he gets shy, you can see the way he shines. "you saw it?"

"of course," you murmur, "i was in the stadium."

you look away, picking at the grass, "that last goal was..." you try to think of the right words, "...a perfectly executed sequence of events. it was really incredible, isagi-kun."

it's quiet, and you think you've said something wrong. but when you look up to him, there's an expression on his face you can't decipher.

"you don't think it was luck?" he asks, almost incredulously.

you shake your head, "no," you say, certain, "why would it be luck?"

isagi is thinking about what tada had said about luck when he catches sight of a small package on his desk.

i like you, isagi-kun.

the words are unfamiliar. they seemed like worlds away, when all he had been thinking of are words like egoist. liking somebody was different, so fundamentally not egoistic.

he's typing to you when he receives the notification to return to blue lock. he has a few days left, he thinks, and presses send. your reply is faster than he expects.

[17:07] hi isagi-kun [17:07] sure

he recognizes the slope of your back and the wisp of your hair as he approaches the river. it feels like he hasn't seen you in forever, like his memories of you and your scribbles in your notebook are faded.

you seem distant, quieter than he remembers. he knows he's different now, but maybe you're different too?

"why would it be luck?" your words echo in his head.

but he remembers how perceptive you were, how far you'd dreamt, for him, and he feels as if he's awakened again. he takes a deep breath.

"i like you, too, y/n," isagi declares, impulsively, running on instinct. live your life as you want.

it was the last thing you had expected to hear, but it doesn't change how you feel, what you know. that he lives in a different world than you now.

"thank you, isagi-kun," you say, sounding happier than you had intended. "when are you going back to blue lock?"

he looks confused, as if that's not what you're supposed to say.

"ah, um, on monday," he clears his throat, "but i think things will be different than before."

you hum in agreement, "you're representing japan in the u20 now."

"oh, no, i meant—" he stutters, looking flustered, "i meant, i think i'll be able to contact you..."

you brush him off. you couldn't have any expectations of him, because you would never be the priority in his life. you had understood, from watching him play that match, that he would be chasing the high of goals like that for his whole life. what could you offer him, in comparison?

"and, i don't know when i'll be out next but..." he continues.

you shake your head, "it's okay," you reassure him, maybe not genuinely, "just do your best in there... for me, okay?"

you add in that last part for yourself.

isagi had thought he was talking about you and him, but he realizes halfway that you had been talking about soccer the whole time.

"yn," he calls, using your name to ground himself, "do you want to be my girlfriend?"

the blush that floods your cheeks relieves him. your face had looked so serious before, so unlike the excitement he had remembered you for. you look so cute, he thinks.

"i can't," you reply, and he can tell you don't believe your words, but he's not sure why you would say them in the first place.

"isagi-kun," you continue, hiding your face, "i want you to give your best at soccer. become the best in the world. you don't need me for that."

he's stunned. he feels as if his brain is rewiring, as if he's on the field again. but it's just you, you who had been with him since he started high school, watching videos of noel noa with him under our desk, you who had left that note in his locker right before he left for blue lock.

live your life as you want. the words echo in his mind, and what he wants is you.

"but i want you," he says.

the look on isagi's face has changed. he looks as he does when he's on the field, like when you saw him in that stadium.

but i want you.

"i—" your resolve crumbles, seeing him. "i don't—"

he stops you, and suddenly he's closer than before, a hand to steady himself on the grass beside you. he asks you again. "do you want to be my girlfriend, yn?"

the determination in his eyes makes you hopeful.

"yes," you breathe, feeling his presence overwhelm you, giving in to your instincts, "yes, i do."

he brings his head even closer to yours. "can i kiss you?"

your mind blanks, your heart races, but you nod. and when he presses his lips against yours, you can feel it: how demanding he is, how ambitious, how much he desires. as if he can keep both you and soccer.

"i'll come back," isagi whispers against your lips, "i will come back for you."

[itsbeeble]

Sour

Summary: Your story began with sour candies, and it’ll end just the same

Genre: Smut, angst

WC: ~1.9k

Pairing: song mingi x afab!reader

Warnings: small smut scene, Mingi is horny tbh, hurt and no comfort, alcohol mentions (wooyoung is drunk)

ALL PARTS: pt 1: Sour | pt 2: Bittersweet | pt 3: Tangy | true ending | alt ending

Your story began in a convenience store, over a bag of sour candy. It was a Sunday night, the day before your finals began during freshman year of college. You’d shared a class together, Calculus, but never shared a word amongst each other. That night you in the convenience store had sparked…something. Something that even you weren’t quite sure about. 

You’d been in your pajamas, just sweatpants and a sweatshirt with your hair tied back so you looked somewhat presentable to the public roaming the streets at the stroke of midnight. The straw for your half empty iced Americano rested against your lower lip, your eyes focused on the candies in front of you. He came up beside you, dressed in a tight black shirt and loose cargo pants, saying nothing to let you know he was there until he reached for a pack of sour gummy worms. His deep, gravelly voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I say go for these,” he says, flicking the package before grabbing it off the shelf. “They taste good, not too sour and not too sweet.” You turned your exhausted gaze to the tall man with fiery hair and headphones half covering his ears. There was a small smile on his lips, one that offered little comfort to you. 

“What if I didn’t want something sour?” Mingi just shrugs and begins to walk away.

“Up to you, really. I just figured I’d give you my opinion.” You follow him to the register, the same bag of sour candies in your hands. He glances down at you, his smile growing just slightly as the tired young cashier rings him out, and he waits for you while the cashier rings out your candy.

“Why are you up, anyway,” your fingers rip open that small blue bag easily while you two walk back to the dorm buildings. 

“Studying, mostly.”

“Song Mingi?” You say in mock shock. “Studying? I never thought I’d see the day!” The taller boy laughs loudly, and you can’t help but laugh with him. It was true, though. In your class he always had his head down and the professor learned to just leave him alone during everything except exams, where he’d somehow excel. She didn’t need to know that you’d been leaving him a copy of your notes on his desk at the beginning of the next class all semester. In fact, he doesn’t need to know that either.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the girl who leaves me all of her very well organized notes stressing over a final that should be a breeze for her.” He counters, leaning down to you and nudging your shoulder. Your cheeks flush, and you turn your gaze away from him. 

“You knew?”

“You do know that I was never actually asleep, right?”

“Coulda fooled me, Mingi.”

“I do appreciate it, though.” You look at him again, and he’s still looking down at you. His arm brushes against yours, but neither feel the urge to drift back away from each other. “I need to repay you, somehow.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You shake your head, and he hums. 

~

You probably should’ve known it then. Should’ve known that getting mixed up with Mingi might not have been the best idea you’ve ever had. But fuck, if the way he fucked you didn’t feel like heaven on Earth.

The first time he fucked you, he had your back pinned against his chest, one of his feet planted firmly on his mattress, his hips pounding into you from behind. His hands pinched and tugged at your erect nipples, his face tucked into your neck as he sucked dark marks into your skin. Broken moans fell from your lips, your vision swimming with pleasure that built itself up and up, seeming to never stop. Your warm walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly every time he pulled his hips back only to thrust back into you harder and faster than he had been.

Your hair stuck to your skin, your hands flailing and reaching for something, anything to hold onto to ground yourself. One of your hands fell to his hair, gripping it tightly and forcing a low groan from his throat. He pulls away from your neck, lips finding your own and you can taste the hint of sour gummies on his tongue when you suck it into your mouth. You let him lick into your mouth, practically shoving his tongue down your throat with how furiously he kissed you, but you didn’t mind. 

You probably enjoyed it a bit too much, his cock abusing that spongey spot inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, one of his hands slipping down to play with your clit. The stimulation is enough to send you over the edge, spasming around him and crying out against his lips. His orgasm arrives soon after your own, thick ropes of warm cum spilling against your walls and spilling out of you while he continues to fuck you until the overstimulation becomes too much for you. 

~

It becomes a regular thing for you both, fucking each other whenever you get the chance. You both have become…something that you can’t quite name. Not quite exclusive, but not fucking anyone other than each other throughout the next few years. It confuses you, to say the least, the fact that you’re both beginning your senior year in college and still don’t have a label. 

Although now, as you sit with your body splayed across his lap and a bag of sour candies being shared between you two at a party neither of you could care less about and your fingers tangled in his bark hair, you can’t find yourself caring. Not when the kisses he places against your throat have your body thrumming with arousal. He doesn’t care that your friends are right in front of you, doesn’t care that Hongjoong keeps trying to get him to keep his hands to himself. All he sees, feels, hears, smells, and tastes is you. All he cares about is you, and the way you’re running your hand up and down his toned arm. 

“You two,” Wooyoung slurs with a plastic cup in his hand. “Are kinda gross.” He squints at you, pouting when he notices that neither of you are really paying attention to him. Your peer over at him, an eyebrow raised as he stumbles to the couch and sits next to San. You feel your eyes starting to flutter when Mingi sucks at a spot underneath your ear, your grip on his arm tightening a bit. You feel him smile against your skin. 

“Mingi,” Seonghwa’s voice is sharp. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at you both. Anger. Is that what the emotion is? The emotion in his eyes, his fists tightening at his sides. Yunho sits next to him, more uncomfortable than angry. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Your…lover? Friend? Partner? Whatever he is. He sighs against you, reluctantly pulling himself away from your skin and sliding you off of his lap to follow Seonghwa and Yunho further into the house. 

~

That should’ve been your first warning for the night. 

The second should’ve been Hongjoong’s pitying look toward you every few moments while you talk with Jongho about one of the classes you share, the excitement for your final year in college. 

Your third and final warning, the one you listened to.

“I’m glad Mingi won the bet.” 

All eyes turn to Wooyoung, the drunken man completely unbothered by his sudden declaration. There’s a mixture of emotions now. Confusion on your behalf, panic on everyone else’s. 

“What?” Hongjoong tries to shush the younger boy, but he’s persistent.

“The bet!” He chirps. “You know, if Mingi got you to sleep with him, then he’d get $100 from each of us? Didn’t he tell you?” 

It’s like the whole room goes silent. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You feel the horror and the realization setting in as you figure out what exactly Wooyoung just told you. What your friends had been hiding for so long. Though, could you really call them your friends now? Now that they’ve told you the truth? 

Your eyes search the house for Mingi, and you find him already looking at you. You can’t read the emotions in his eyes, but you can see him gnawing at his lip and his eyebrows furrowing while Seonghwa yells at him about something. It makes sense now. Why he didn’t want to put a label on you two.

In hind sight, you should’ve seen it. Although, how could you have? He always seemed like a nice guy. Always helped you if you were struggling with something, always brought you those stupid fucking sour gummies. You were completely blinded by the idea of someone showing you true affection for once that you couldn’t see the pity behind his friends’ eyes. 

~

“Y/N.” 

You don’t turn around when he calls your name. His voice cracks and trembles when he speaks. You can’t help but scoff, but you put on a brave face before you turn around. You plaster a smile onto your lips, your wipe the tears away from your eyes and pray that you can hold yourself together long enough to talk to him and get out of there, to take your car and run far, far away.

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step toward you, but the step you take back makes his stumble and freeze in his place. His hands are shaking, a far cry from the confidence he always seems to radiate. 

“It’s okay,” you force the words out, digging the nail of your thumb into your palm to keep the tears back. “I’m not mad.” You see him clench his jaw, see him start to stretch his hand out to you.

“You should be.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” The tears are starting to well up again and you take a deep breath, turning your gaze away from him. “At least you got a good fuck out of all this, you know?” The laugh you let out turns into a sob, and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, to try and calm your breathing enough to continue speaking. Mingi takes another step forward, and then another, grabbing onto your hand before you can get too far from him. 

“That’s not— that isn’t why I did this!” You stare at him in disbelief. 

“So why then? Why did you make the bet in the first place?” There’s no answer from him, and you bite down on your tongue. You pull your hand out of his grip, and he lets you walk away.

There’s a sour feeling boiling in your gut, and as soon as your car door shuts, you allow it to spill over. The sobs free themselves, and you let the tears run down your cheeks. 

A breakdown. One you’ll have to handle on your own this time. No one to bring over snacks and drinks while you watch stupid movies and cuddle on your couch. No friends to fall back on when you need help. Nothing. 

You’re back at the beginning again.

Alone.

[justmystyles]

Was thinking how fun it would be to meet harry at an art museum. Like what if y/n had an assignment for grad school that she put off until the last minute, and so she finally gets to the museum and it's closed for a private tour (Harry's). She sweet talks a guard into asking harry if she could enter the museum, just to look at one painting for a bit. Harry is initially annoyed but agrees and is pleasantly surprised that she doesn't try to interact with him. Before he leaves, he goes to where she is and apologizes for closing the museum, and idk asks her to join him for lunch? It goes from there with flirting and a quick no strings fling

A Work of Art

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.3k

summary: after procrastinating for a few weeks, you finally make moves to finish your assignment, but run into an unexpected road block.

a/n: thank you so much for this ask, my friend! i'm so sorry it took me so long to get it out. i hope it was worth the wait!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Sorry miss, we’re closed.” The guard said, stone faced. 

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. It was your own fault for waiting until the last minute, but you thought you had all day. “But you’re supposed to be open until five.” 

“We’re closed for a private tour.” He responded, showing no sign of emotion. 

You let out a frustrated groan, your paper is due at midnight and there was no way you were going to finish without getting in there and looking at that painting. You pace back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to figure out your next move. All that comes to mind is begging and pleading. 

You take a deep breath and step back up to the guard. “Please, there has to be something you can do. I only need to look at one painting. Maybe if they are done in the room I need to be in, I could just go straight there. I won’t be a bother, I promise.” 

The guard rolled his eyes, groaning in frustration. “You’re not going to leave until I ask, are you?” 

“Nope!” You said with an obnoxious smirk.

“Wait here.” The guard said sternly before turning and walking into the museum. 

He returned with a second guard, and the nerves started to set in. Were they going to physically remove you and ban you from the museum for life?

“Alright, here’s the deal, " the original guard began. “You’re going to go see your painting, but you go straight there and you stay there until it’s time to leave. My friend Hank here will be with you to make sure you don’t go rogue.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you thank you thank you!” 

“Phone please,” Hank holds out his hand, palm up. 

“My phone?” Your brow furrows in confusion. 

“The party that rented out the space will only let you in if you give us your phone, for his privacy. You’ll get it back when you’re done.” 

You don’t understand who this mystery museum goer could possibly be, but they were obviously a big deal. You hesitantly relinquished your phone, and Hank led you into the museum, walking you directly to the room where your painting was housed. 

As you studied the piece, taking notes as you evaluated each color choice and brush stroke, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the other person currently wandering the museum. You secretly hoped your paths would cross, just out of sheer curiosity of who it could possibly be. 

“Are you finished yet?” Hank asked with a hint of annoyance. 

“It would be quicker if I had my phone, so I could take pictures.” You matched his tone. 

He rolled his eyes, pulling your phone out of his breast pocket and handing it to you. “Pictures of the painting only. No flash.” 

You gave him a mock solute, immediately opening your camera and taking a few shots, zooming in on particular areas. You were so focused on the painting that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you. 

“Phone, now.” Hank snapped. 

“What? But I’m not done!” You protest. 

“It’s alright, she’s fine.” Another voice pulls your attention and you turn around, seeing Harry Styles standing behind you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, returning your attention to the painting and taking a few more pictures. 

Harry watches you curiously, he had expected a bit more of a reaction when you saw him. You had gone through all this trouble to sneak into the museum he had gone to the trouble of booking out, specifically so he wouldn't be bothered. He allowed you in, against his better judgment, but you weren’t a problem at all. He felt oddly disappointed by that. 

Once you had taken your final pictures, and one more glance at the painting, you turned to Hank and let you know you were ready to go. He nodded and started to lead you toward the exit. 

“Wait!” Harry called, stopping you in your tracks. “I just wanted to apologize for closing the museum.” 

“It’s fine, I ended up getting what I needed.” You shrugged. He obviously didn’t want to be bothered, that's why he had the museum shut down in the first place.

“Well, would you like to walk around the rest of the museum with me?” He asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Thanks, but I should get home and finish my assignment.” 

“Aww, c’mon,” his tone became more playful. “How often are you going to have a whole museum all to yourself?” 

You study his expression, trying to figure out why he’s gone from no phones, don’t bother me to wanting to walk through the entire place with you. “Why?” 

“As a peace offering, for making things difficult on you.” 

You stood in silence for a moment as you weighed out your options. He was right, this was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. Complete, unobstructed access to the entire museum. “Sure,” you finally agreed. 

As you moved to the next room, Harry looked at you curiously. “So what was it about that one painting that you absolutely had to get in here today?”

“I’m an art history major, and I have an assignment due tomorrow analyzing that piece.” 

He stopped, turning to you with an arched brow. “And you’re just getting around to looking at it today?” You shrugged in response. “How long did you have to work on this assignment?” 

You rolled your eyes at his comment. “Okay mom, thanks.” You both chuckled.

“So,” Harry continued on. “Art history, that’s pretty cool, how’d you end up choosing that?” 

You talked to Harry a bit about your love of art, and the things that led you to selecting your major, as well as the panic your parents had when you chose such a niche field of study. The conversation flowed easily between the two of you. You got to know each other, and discussed the art around you, sharing what you saw in the pieces, and how they made you feel. 

When the two of you returned to the entrance, you looked down at your watch with wide eyes. The two of you had spent three hours going through every square inch of the museum, and you actually had a really great time. When you first saw Harry, you were annoyed, he was just an entitled celebrity making the world harder for everyone else just to get his way. But after spending time with him and getting to know him, he actually turned out to be really down to earth, and pretty cool. You felt a pang of disappointment knowing that you were about to part ways. 

“Thank you,” you said to him, looking into his kind green eyes. “For letting me in to look at my painting, and also for walking around the museum with me.”

“It was my pleasure,” He smiled kindly at you. “It was actually way more fun to walk around with someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Harry. You had some pretty insightful things to say back there.”

He grinned wide, his dimples on full display. “Oh stop,” he waved his hands playfully. “Hey, you want to go grab a bite to eat?”

“I would love to but I’ve got–”

“Your assignment to finish.” He completed your thought. “I know, but you’re not going to get anything done on an empty stomach. Come on, my treat.” 

He gives you a hopeful smile, as if he doesn’t want to leave you yet. You definitely don't want to leave him. “Yeah, sure.” You agree, trying to play it cool.     

“Great! C’mon, I’ve got a car waiting out front!” He held the door for you and the two of you made your way to his car, and then on to dinner.

You submitted your assignment just before the deadline, and you walked away from dinner with a kiss on the cheek and Harry’s number. All in all, it was a good day. 

[givemeanaccountalready]

You know what I’m most curious about for Milgram? How did the first few days go over? Milgram kidnapped eleven people and threw them in a building with no exits or even a window, had one announce to the others that they were all murderers and they were going to investigate, and how well do you think that went over?

I can see those who were indirect murderers being much more sociable than those who directly took a life. Like Mikoto, who is so sure that all he did was dream and believed that this was some sort of game show, thinks the term murderer is made up and is just chatting away. Or Shidou, whose murder seems to involve his shitty bedside manner (pressuring families of brain dead patients to pull the plug and I think pressuring other patients to go through with risky organ transplants), is probably like yes, everyone must be involved with a death that would be hard to prosecute, I bet little Amane probably was playing with a friend who fell off the playground, cracked their head open, and died. Does she need a trusted adult?

Then you have Haruka and Muu, who directly killed their victims through very personal methods (strangulation and stabbing), who are rightly terrified that the others must have killed like they have and could be killed so they try to stay out of the spotlight. Kotoko, who stomped her victim to death, having the same line of thought as Kazui, a policeman, with needing to carefully evaluate the situation and not act rashly because they both realize that the chances of everyone having the same story as them is slim.

Just imagine the first meal together. It’s tense and awkward, as everyone steals glances at each other and pokes at the food, and then someone (Shidou or Mikoto, probably) breaks the ice.

Shidou: “Why don’t we go around the room and introduce ourselves? I’m Shidou Kirisaki. I’m 29 years old, and I worked as a doctor before coming here.”

Mikoto: “That’s a great idea! I’m-”

Fuuta: “Why are we doing this kiddie crap? We were kidnapped. And why are we eating with this cosplaying brat and a rabbit?”

Es: refuses to react

Jackalope: angry ear twitch

Mikoto: “Chillax. This is probably just one of those new reality shows.”

Fuuta: “You sign up for those, stupid. Do you remember signing up for this, because I sure as hell don’t remember-”

Shidou: cutting in “Language.”

Fuuta: “Are you fu-”

Mikoto: quickly “So, I’m Mikoto Kayano, 23, and I worked for a top of the line advertising company down in Tokyo! What about you, uh?”

Kotoko: “Kotoko Yuzuriha. 20. I was studying law, but I was taking a brief sabbatical before… this.”

Mikoto: “Cool! I don’t think I could be a lawyer. I’m terrible at conflict.”

Mahiru: “Same here! I’m Mahiru Shiina, and I’m 22 years old. I’m in my final year of studying literature at university.”

Shidou: “What about you? You must be in your last year of high school, right? What are you thinking of studying?”

Fuuta: sputtering “I-I’m in college! I’m 20, for God’s sake! I haven’t been in high school for a while. You need to get your eyes checked.”

Kazui: to Amane “Would you like to go next or should I?”

Amane: “You can go first. I don’t mind.”

Fuuta: loudly “I’m not done yet!”

Mikoto: “I thought you didn’t want to do this-”

Fuuta: interrupts “The name’s Fuuta Kajiyama.”

Kazui: “And I’m Kazui Mukuhara. 39. I’m a police officer.”

Kotoko: narrows eyes “A police officer? And you’re here?”

Shidou: to the four remaining “And you all?”

Amane: “My name is Amane Momose, and I am 12 years old. I’m in the sixth grade.”

Mikoto: disbelief “My God, you’re so young.”

Amane: “I’d prefer it if you didn’t offer me any sort of special treatment because of my age. Treat me as you would any other prisoner.”

Shidou: aghast “But you are a child.”

Amane: angry pout and about to argue when

Yuno: does not want to listen to them argue “I suppose I’ll go next. I’m Yuno Kashiki. 18. I’m in my final year of high school. And you?”

Muu: “M-my name is M-Muu Kusonoki. I am 16 years old and in my first year of high school. Please don’t hurt me.”

Kotoko: flatly “The grade-schooler has more guts than you.”

Shidou: “I would argue that she isn’t being foolish.”

Amane: “It would be foolish to ask for special treatment. I do agree with the sentiment but I don’t fear any of you.”

Fuuta: “You’re literally 12. How are you not pissing your-”

Shidou: “Language!”

Amane: “There is no need for censorship on my account. I know all the bad words already. Speak freely around me.”

Fuuta: smugly “Yeah, see? She’s probably heard worse from her classmates.” Points to Haruka. “What about you?”

Haruka: shrinks down in his chair “U-uh, I’m, um, I’m Haruka Sakurai. I’m 17, I think. I’m uh, not very bright. Please be patient with me.”

Shidou: “There’s no need to put yourself down. What year of high school are you in?”

Haruka: “I’m, I’m not. My parents said that, that they’d rather light the money on fire for warmth than send me to high school just for me to flunk out. It would be a better use of-”

Fuuta: angry “That’s fucked!”

Shidou: “Language!”

Yuno: “Hate to say it, but he’s right. It is messed up.”

Shidou: “It is, but there is no reason to use such language in front of a child.”

Amane: “You don’t have to protect me from foul language. I just said-”

Shidou: “What about you, Es? How old are you?”

Es: “15.”

Fuuta: “You have gotta be kidding me! The fate of our lives hang in the hands of a junior high student!”

Mikoto: “Relax. Our lives don’t really hang in their hands. It’s just a TV show.”

Fuuta: “This isn’t a TV show!”

[maislovebot]

hii, can I request fyodor and sigma (separated) with a reader who suffers from paranoia? It's totally okay if you don't feel comfortable writing it!! 🫶

Of course I can write this!! Ty for the request, anon<3

I apologize if any of the information I put is incorrect, as I do not have any forms of paranoia, although I do know a fair amount about them because I study psychology🙏 I wasn’t sure if you had a type of paranoia that makes you have breakdowns, but I decided to assume you did. I needed to compromise a little here:’)

Fyodor:

Contains: gn reader, drabble format, the reader is afraid that Fyodor is gonna hurt them, lots of kisses, fluff, hurt/comfort

Fyodor was well aware of your paranoia. He may have found it difficult to deal with your symptoms at first, but he’s grown to know how to treat you. He’s gentle with you, and with his criticism despite his rather blunt personality, as he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and don’t break down.

He tries his hardest to understand you, but he still struggles to comfort you when you were dealing with breakdowns, or you were shutting down in some way. He never was the most emotionally available person. He tried his hardest, though.

So now that he’s here, and he’s entered your shared house to see you on your guys’ bed, staring at the ceiling, clearly deep in thought, he knew you were thinking about something that made you act up. It made a frown fall to his face. What was bothering you?

Fyodor knew to comfort you gently and slowly whenever he saw you like this, so he slowly walked up to the bed and placed his hand on your back. It made you jump.

“Hello, милый, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” your response was short and it made Fyodor worry, his face getting more concerned.

“You don’t have to tell me, but if you’re comfortable, I’d like you to tell me what’s wrong.” He knew he had to be persistent with you, you two wouldn’t get anywhere if he wasn’t.

You nodded, curling in on yourself, facing Fyodor. You placed your hand on his arm to help ground yourself, which Fyodor took notice to. He gently ran his hand through your hair, scratching your scalp. You melted into his touch, pulling him closer.

“It’s dumb,”

“I doubt it,” Fyodor mumbled as he rested his hand in your hair, “what’s on your mind?”

You finally decided to talk to him, sighing and petting his arm.

“I’m scared, scared that you’ll drop me once I fulfill my role in your plan. I’m horrified that you may kill me.”

Fyodor looked taken aback, his eyes widening. He knew he should have kept all his dirty work to himself. You never should’ve known that he’s willing to betray just about anyone.

Besides you.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, there’s no need to worry. I’ll never hurt you.”

“I’m not just worried, I’m scared to fall asleep next to you anymore. Scared you might hurt me.”

The frown on Fyodor’s face kept growing, and he gripped your chin. Why couldn’t you realize that he would never hurt you? You’re the most important person to him. He’s doing all of this for you.

“Do you know why I’m doing all of this? Why I’m getting rid of all the gifted?”

You shook your head no, nuzzling into his sleeve.

“It’s to give me and you a better life. So we can live in a world free of sin, just the two of us.”

“That’s a dark thing to say with such a romantic tone,” you giggled into his arm, “I believe you.”

Fyodor smiled softly at this, kissing along your arm before reaching your hand, and leaving one final kiss to your palm.

He knew he could never fully help you with your paranoia, but he could definitely try.

Wc - 0.5k

Sigma:

Contains: gn reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is afraid that Sigma is gonna die, also lots of kisses

Your chest hurts. Everything hurts. You knew Sigma could protect himself, you knew he was more than capable, but God, were you nervous. He had practically an entire organization after him and all he had to protect him was the Sky Casino.

Your thoughts were reeling, your mind running races, your thoughts bouncing around your own skull. What if he got hurt? What if he was hurt right now? All these thoughts were making you have a headache.

That was until Sigma walked through the door to your bedroom, back from his shift, and completely unharmed. Of course you were just overthinking it.

Nonetheless, you ran up to him and hugged him as soon as he walked through the door. The actions were sudden, but not unwanted. He jumped slightly when you wrapped your arms around him, before reciprocating the hug.

“Well hello. Nice to see you too.” Sigma giggled.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” You blurted out.

The question confused Sigma, and he looked around the room for a few moments.

“Uhh, no? Am I supposed to be?”

“No, but..”

As confused as he was at first, he was beginning to piece everything together.

“What’s got you paranoid? Did something happen?”

“Not specifically..but how could you even tell I’m paranoid?”

“We’ve been together for almost a year now, that’s how.”

You nodded, continuing your vent.

“Nothing really happened, it’s just that you’re practically being hunted down by the Decay of Angels, and I don’t know what to do. I never wanna leave your side because I’m scared you won’t come back.”

Sigma looked taken aback. He was honestly very nervous about what may happen to him as well, but he knew he had to stay strong, if not for him, than for you. Sigma knelt down in front of you, holding your hands and kissing your fingertips, before holding them close to his face.

“I’m not going anywhere. I may not talk about it often, but I have resources. I’m more than safe. And so are you.”

“Resources?”

“Well, I guess a better word for it is allies.”

That sounded just like something Sigma would say.

“Like who?”

“Well, to start, the Armed Detective Agency. I also don’t employ people I don’t trust.”

You ran your hand through Sigma’s hair, pulling him close. He was still on his knees, so the hug was very imbalanced.

But you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Wc - 0.4k

[aqua-the-smiter]

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦୨୧✦•······················•✦•······················•✦ ℑ𝔯𝔬𝔫 ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 Ferrus Manus x female oc (Argena Seeva) Other parts in the reblogs Ferrus, in a bid to one up his pain-in-the-ass brother Fulgrim, takes up drawing. Gets some reference help from his long suffering friend and senechal, Argena. Part of my AU I have cleverly called the Primarch Wife AU. Happy endings, the boys get the help they need, Big E is a good dad and, most importantly, everybody gets a wife. Because big husband and small wife makes brain go brr

Sexual content/NSFW after the cut - Very lewd-but-not-lewd touching, Ferrus jacking off to his future wife while trying to get work done, idiots in love. @thevoidscreams @pringles-plaguehaus ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦୨୧✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊ “Gena?” Ferrus asked, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “I have a…strange favor to ask of you.” Argena put down the loop of silver she’d been polishing and turned around on her stool to face him as she heard him out. Throne, he even looked uncomfortable, and she wondered what exactly he needed that he was looking so hot under the collar. Ferrus Manus was many things, but wavering was not one of them. Actually he was kind of cute like that. She mentally slapped herself almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind. HE. IS. YOUR. BOSS. She’d been with him for over a year and half at this point. It felt like it should have been longer. Falling into the role of his senechal had been so easy after a while. Especially after they’d started spending more time simply enjoying each other’s company. He was a surprisingly layered man once he opened up enough to show it. And, she heavily suspected, a lonely one too. So they’d gotten close more easily than she would have first thought. It even showed in the way he addressed her. Gena, a more tender nickname than her given. “Does it have anything to do with your ongoing attempts to one up your brother?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It does, yes. Look, I can’t help it. Fulgrim has been driving me mad recently, so I want to pay him back in kind.” “I know, I know. And if you pull it off you’ll make him absolutely seethe.” “It” in question was Ferrus putting a serious effort into learning how to draw. He could already, but it was an entirely different kind. Technical drawings, machine blueprints, weapon schematics. Nothing really artistic, although it could be counted as a form of art in its own right if you asked her. Watching him work was hypnotic, the movement of the pencil or stylus in his metal hands impossibly graceful. Elegant even. But most people didn’t see it that way. Resident artsy fuck, Fulgrim, certainly didn’t. Constantly making little jabs and jokes at his best friend’s inability to produce anything else than purely practical drawings. Finally, Ferrus had enough and announced to her in private that he was going to produce a piece of actual art better than anything Fulgrim could do (and he wasn’t as good as everyone thought he was, including himself) out of pure brotherly spite. The early results were rough, but promising. Argena herself had quite a bit of skill, picked up from her goldsmithing hobby, and he’d come to her with practice sketches, rudimentary shapes and simple three dimensional objects. It took him a while, but he was definitely getting it. His talent for technical drawings was beginning to shine through with the clean linework. In short, it seemed he might actually do it. “That is the goal.” He said, just a little smug. “So what do you need me for, pray tell my lord?” She prompted. The Primarch seemed to steel himself for a moment. “Well…I feel I’m ready to move on to…organic materials now. I can only draw my own tools so much before I cease to learn any more from the exercise. I was going to ask if I could study you. Your anatomy, I mean.” And it already sounded like that would involve less clothes than she started with that day. “...Study my anatomy? How so? Moreover, why?”

“Feel up your body. Your muscles, skeletal structure, general build. How everything connects and moves together. I find that I learn best when I am up to the elbows in it so to speak, so being able to touch it would be the best thing. You are the only person I feel comfortable coming to with this. It is, ultimately, quite a petty thing I’m after. You have been very understanding of me. More than I thought would be possible.” Ferrus paused for a moment, wondering if what he had to say next was even a good idea before deciding he’d take that chance. “Also, you are objectively a very beautiful woman. Whatever someone’s personal tastes may be, nobody could look at you and deny it. And subjectively, I think you are a beautiful woman. For those reasons you’d make the best subject for what I’m trying to accomplish. If the goal of art is to create something pleasing to the eye, something that captures the beauty of the world and the enthusiasm of the creator in a still image, you would be a perfect basis. Not like the mess of colors and lines Fulgrim throws on his canvases.” He spoke so frankly. Ferrus was always a very no-nonsense type of person, but to have that direct, blunt nature used in such a glowing description of her was something else entirely. Because you knew for a fact when he said something, he meant it. It made her feel very warm inside. “And this is purely for research, right?” She asked tentatively. “Purely objective.” He swore. “And I won’t go any farther than you want or touch you anywhere you don’t want to be touched. I’ll fill in any gaps in my knowledge with an anatomy book. Just tell me where to stop, and I will.” Somehow a Primarch who’d grown up in the wilderness eating sand had a better concept of boundaries than many people. “Well...I trust you, so I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” She said after a moment, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m willing. Let’s do it.” He gave her one of his rare smiles (that seemed to be becoming less rare nowadays come to think of it), genuinely grateful. It made her feel more at ease with the agreement. Who knows, it might even be fun. ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

[secretobsessionstuff]

nawwwhh man you aint gotta feel bad about not doin sicktember. im bein real here, i thought i was and i did like 3, so i aint either. but if you really do want me to request one, i'd probably do psychogenic fever/stress induced illness with madix bein sickie bc itd relate to me personally the most (bc i always get stress sick and i'd love to see madix sick witb it too (bonis point if dakota take care of him GOD i loved the fic where dakote took care of him))

Hey man, thanks for always being there and loving my fics. I hope you like this one even though it's nearly two fucking years late I swear.

This fic is set in the past when Madix and Dakota are in school together.

CW: Graphic description of vomiting! It's seriously so gross I love it lol.

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

A flood of relieved students rushed past Dakota. He swam against the current looking for Madix among the test-takers. Since it was 2pm, they were no longer test-takers, but the sea of knowledge inside their brains would still be there until the PTSD of organic chemistry was washed away by time. 

Dakota knew how anxious Madix had been for this final. The dreaded Orgo Chem kept his roommate up for the past three nights. It was a known fact that this second-year course was a killer, and Madix’s prof was a distinguished serial killer. Many students retook Orgo in the summer, trying for that passing grade with perhaps a more lenient prof. 

With the hallway now empty—all the students having left—it was easy for Dakota to find Madix. He hadn’t expected his friend to stick around after the final was over, but there he was sitting on the floor by the large windows. Madix looked like a crab, trying to find safety in the shell of his hunched over back. He had his head in his hands and was rubbing his temples as if the trauma of the exam pooled behind his eyes. 

“Hey, how did it go?” It was a very pointless question given that Madix was curled into a question mark. 

“Fuck if I know,” Madix slurred as he slid his hands down his face. “I keep going over every question, doubting my answers.” 

“Well, it’s over now so you don’t need to think about it.” It worried Dakota how glassy and fragile Madix’s eyes looked, like he was about to cry or explode into flames. His cheeks were pale and sunken too. 

“I need a 73 to pass the class.” 

Dakota squinted. “Mmh sounds like you’re still thinking about it.” 

Madix dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stop. That exam is all I’ve been thinking about for the last week. I haven’t even had time to study for Anatomy tomorrow.”

With a sigh, Dakota sat down on the floor next to his friend. “I brought you something to take your mind off studying.” From behind his back, Dakota revealed a fast-food bag from the student lounge. It was Madix’s favourite place to get comfort food because of the crispy fries, the juicy burger, and the creamy milkshake. Madix didn’t like to indulge that craving too often because it was a greasy cheat meal that often left him feeling bloated, but Dakota thought it would be a nice gesture since Madix had hardly eaten anything leading up to this exam. 

He was about to hand his friend the grease-wrapped gift, but hesitated. The heat coming off Madix’s body was alarming. Dakota could feel the waves just sitting next to him. A quick touch to Madix’s forehead with the back of his hand told Dakota that he’d been neglecting his roommate. 

“Shit, Mads, you’re burning up. I didn’t know you were sick all this time.” 

“I’m not sick.” Like a starving animal, Madix reached for the bag of food, but Dakota held it out of his reach. 

“Bullshit. You can deny it all you want, but your head’s on fire, buddy.” 

“I know.” 

Dakota couldn’t stop his lecture now, as if the two of them hadn’t heard enough lecturing the whole year. “You’re the one in pre-med, you should know—wait what?” 

Madix sighed at the theatrics of his friend. “I’ve had a fever for three days. It’s not going away.” He rubbed his own forehead, feeling the familiar yet puzzling temperature. “I don’t have any other symptoms. I think it’s from stress.” 

It was honestly the oddest feeling. Madix could feel himself cooking from the inside. His cells buzzed like the many diagrams of excited particles when submitted to heat. But there was nothing else to indicate a virus or infection. His throat was fine; his nose was clear. If anything, he was infected with school. Perhaps his nose was clogged with equations and his throat was sore from reciting textbook chapters. 

Dakota looked skeptical. “So, you gave yourself a fever from worrying?” 

“Yes, it’s a medical mystery. They should name a disease after me. Anyway, gimme burger.” Madix reached for the food like a child with grubby fingers. 

Dakota scooted away from his friend, taking the prize with him. “I don’t know, Mads. You really don’t look well. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to eat something so heavy.” 

“Come on. You know I’ve been surviving on goldfish crackers.” It was only now that he could smell the fries and beef that Madix realized how hungry he was. His stomach was aching for something substantial. “Besides, I need the energy to study for Anatomy. It’s tomorrow by the way.” 

“Tomorrow? But you just had orgo.” 

“I have a shit exam schedule this year.” Madix pouted. “Please, Kota. It will make me feel better.” 

Finally, Dakota relented. He had bought it for Madix after all. But now he was worried that it was the exact opposite of what the overworked boy needed. 

He watched Madix stuff his face with his first real meal in 72 hours. The burger disappeared in record time. Fatty juices glistened on Madix’s chin as he dug into the fries. His fingers were coated in grease and fry seasoning by the time he was done. In between each mouthful, he took longs slurps of the Oreo milkshake. 

“You wanna slow down there, bud?” Dakota asked incredulously. There wasn’t much more to eat at this point. 

Madix dragged his sleeve over his mouth and shook his head. “Have to start studying soon.” He swallowed the last bite of fries and sucked at the last remnants of the milkshake. Madix let out a long burp at the end and sighed. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that was impressive.” Dakota couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re getting more colour in your cheeks.” Maybe the meal really had been a good thing. “But I’m still worried about this voodoo fever though.” 

“It won’t go away until the exams do.” 

‘Then neither will I.” Dakota stood firm in this decision. He wasn’t going to let Madix get burnt out…literally. His hardest exams were done, so he could keep a closer eye on Madix now. “I’ll study with you in the library.” 

“You don’t have to, Kota. I’ll be fine.” 

“I want to.” 

By the tone of Dakota’s voice, Madix could tell that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, but we’re studying in the red zone.” 

“Not the red zone! Anything but that.” 

Madix shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on babysitting.”

• • •

The red zone was the fourth circle of hell—also known as the library during exam season. 

It was the quietest level of the building, reserved exclusively for students to study in absolute silence. No talking, no phones, you couldn’t even sneeze without getting dirty looks. You could hear a pencil drop and then watch that pencil be escorted out of the red zone. 

As someone with ADHD, Dakota hated the red zone. He much preferred the orange or yellow zone. At least in the orange zone, you could whisper and cough without being shunned. The yellow zone allowed for conversation and anxious tapping. He admitted that the green zone was definitely not ideal for studying. That was the first level of the library were students could openly cry over their exams or practice for their theater final that involved a murder scene. 

Dakota pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from moving on their own. 

Madix on the other hand had no issue keeping his mouth shut. The nausea forced his lips together. 

The fast food was quickly catching up to him, staying true to its name even inside his stomach. It hadn’t taken long before the burger, fries, and milkshake resisted digestion. The meal churned in his belly like a wad of chewing gum. 

The red zone was popular during this time of year, so Madix and Dakota hunted for two chairs next to each other. They found a long table with many students already studying there, but luckily there were two empty spots across from each other. Madix was grateful to be sitting across from Dakota so that he could rub his upset stomach discreetly. 

Unfortunately, the red zone was not a good place to have a gurgly tummy. The girl next to Madix gave him the stink eye when the organ groaned, tossing chewed up cow inside his gut. He felt grease sticking to his throat and hot burps in his chest. He pushed down every belch lest he be escorted out of the level. 

The words of the anatomy textbook swam across the page. Madix felt his fever ignite with a vengeance. Now he was dizzy, disoriented, and disgustingly full. There was heat behind his eyes that turned his vision to soup. Everything he needed to know for the exam was right in front of him in the book, but the letters became alphabet stew on a white background. 

He dared not look up at his friend in fear that Dakota would see right through him. 

Dakota could not study in such an environment, so naturally he saw every twinge of nausea flash across Madix’s expression. His poor friend was not having a good time. Madix’s cheeks were now flushed bright red, and beads of sweat gathered on his brow. 

In the dead quiet of the library, he could hear Madix’s stomach struggle to digest the heavy meal. Dakota kicked himself for giving into Madix’s begging. The nausea was no doubt thwarting his efforts at studying which created a vicious cycle of stress and pain. 

Dakota did a quick doodle in his notebook and passed it to Madix. He was quite proud of his drawing and had to keep in a chuckle. 

Madix frowned at the drawing. Along the top were the words Green Zone Now? Below Dakota’s messy handwriting was a drawing of a green-faced emoji. Its cheeks were ballooned with vomit. It seemed he wasn’t hiding his ailment so well. 

On the same page, Madix wrote back I’m fine. Must study. Madix didn’t think he needed to go to the green zone, despite what his complexion said. He could control his stomach. The food would stay down; it had to. 

Dakota gave Madix a disappointed look when he got the note back. Why must he be so stubborn? Dakota had to drop the matter. Aside from physically picking up his friend, he didn’t see any other way of convincing Madix to take a break for the sake of his health. He wasn’t going to be making any compelling arguments in the red zone. 

Madix tried to ignore his blistering fever and his unhappy guts.

Systemic Anatomy was hard to study for when he was so keenly aware of his digestive system. He imagined partially digested fries mixing with the gastric juices in his belly. His body went through the steps with much difficulty. 

The muscular organ was literally in the process of contracting itself to squeeze all the nutrients out of the fast food. Madix did not like the squeezing. He hugged his aching middle and laid his head on the table in defeat. 

It didn’t seem likely that the food would continue on to his intestines. His stomach couldn’t handle the greasy meal after days of hardly anything to eat. On top of all this, his body was too busy fighting a made-up virus called stress. The stress was very real, but his immune system was taking it too literally. It was no wonder why he couldn’t keep the meal down. 

Madix couldn’t stop the burp from coming up. It burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his throat with acid. The girl next to him shushed him. Her expression was as sour as his stomach. He didn’t have the will to apologize for the noise. Regardless, he wouldn’t have had the chance to say sorry anyway because another burp filled his mouth with sticky saliva. 

Dakota looked up quickly to see Madix hunched over his chair and gagging into his hand. Another sickly belch bubbled up, draining the colour from Madix’s face. 

Before Dakota could do anything, he watched Madix lurch forward with a loud heave. Thick vomit spewed from his mouth and fell onto the table in front of him. The sick quickly spilled onto Madix’s lap. 

“Oh, shit Maddy,” Dakota cooed as he came to his friend’s side. He didn’t bother with the anti-social etiquette of the red zone, not that it mattered though because everyone in their vicinity bolted from the room. No one wanted to risk catching whatever Madix had during their exams. 

Madix coughed and sputtered. Scandalous! He could only moan miserably before the muscles in his belly contracted again, sending up another wave of mushy fries and curdled milkshake. Dark flecks of Oreo and beef dotted the sick. 

“Oh God…” Madix choked out. “I can’t stop.”

Dakota rubbed his friend’s back while trying not to look at the growing pool of vomit that was…everywhere. “It’s okay, buddy. Just let it out.” The same heat from before lived beneath Madix’s skin. Dakota could feel the fever through his clothes. “No one is here. You’re good. Do what you need to do.” 

Madix’s belly gave another deep lurch. The pressure forced the undigested food up his open esophagus. If this wasn’t the best way to study the digestive system, then Madix didn’t know what else to do besides open himself up like a cadaver. 

His fever made the room spin around him. If he had any sort of receptacle, he probably would have missed. Luckily, he had no issue catching his notebook, his lap, and his shoes in the process. 

“Good job,” Dakota encouraged. He patted Madix’s back firmly. “Get it all out. Get that stress out too while you’re at it.” 

Madix had to admit that there was something cathartic about this purge. He felt lighter with each bout that left his body. He gave over to his subconscious mind and let his body do what it needed to do. He probably should have listened to the hunger and sleep cues before this, but he was listening now to the Get Out cues. 

If stressed looked like a melted Oreo milkshake then it was certainly no longer in his body. He tried to imagine the pressure and the expectations and the need for validation leaving his body along with the vomit. 

When Madix caught a break, he couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “This is the red zone. I just puked in the red zone.” 

Dakota laughed with him. “All over it really.” He looked around at the empty room. “You scared everyone away. They must think you have the plague.” 

“I think we’re all infected with it. This pressure—it’s an epidemic, man.” 

“Don’t go turning into a philosopher.” Dakota took a step back from his friend. It wasn’t a good view, but he was happy to see Madix’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you need anything? Water? Sleep?” 

“Both.” Madix slowly stood up from his chair, cringing at the wetness that made his shirt cling to his body. “But I think I better find someone who works here.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I should have listened to you, huh?”  

“Let’s discuss my vast amount of wisdom when everything’s cleaned up, shall we?" 

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Hey i really liked your headcanons for rooks family! I’ve been obsessed with the idea of his parents being hoarders and I was wondering if you had any more to add? If not that’s alright!🙏

Finally got to this, so sorry for the wait!!

Random HC's I Probably Overexplain - Rook Edition 1

TW: Hoarding (obviously), health issues, parentification of his older sister, dead (exotic) pet First things first, Rook is the youngest of seven. His mother has always been one who stays home, enjoying the art of taxidermy and studying the physiology of animals, where his father has always been more of a hunter. Like I mentioned in my Family HC's, Rook is very close with his mother, as she taught him to appreciate the sacrifice of death in order to sustain the circle of life. However, that 16 year gap between Rook and his siblings made her realize just how much stuff she had gotten rid of over the years that were testaments to her kids childhoods. As her kids started to move out and leave home, panic started to set in and she couldn't bring herself to get rid of any of their things that really, should have been thrown out. She tried to keep it all organized, but when her husband gently suggested they start going through it all, taking photos of what they didn't need, she broke down and refused, telling him it wasn't the same as having a physical copy of it all. Her husband backed down - after all, he was barely at home. He could deal with the mess for the few days he would stay home for the sake of the comfort of his wife, and his time out in the woods meant that his kids had another place to be as the house seemed to squeeze them out...even though that was the last thing his wife wanted.

Rook was a surprise, to say the least, but once his mother was pregnant with him, her nesting only went to 11 and it was the snapping point for one of the two kids still living at home. The elder of the two packed their bags, left a note tacked to one of her taxidermy animals, and went no contact, leaving their 16 year old sister and baby brother behind.

Rook's older sister couldn't bear the thought of Rook growing up in the environment her mother had made for him, and decided that at least until she was 18, she would stay and try to clean, as well as keep record of what the house used to look like so that maybe one day, she could restore it completely. However, when her mother caught her trying to clean the kitchen enough to try and cook, her mother broke down in tears. Her father told her that if she stressed her mother out too much, she would be solely responsible if the baby died. Because of this, she stopped cleaning, but vowed to stay to try and be a buffer for her brother, as well as get him his basic education if nothing else.

Postpartum depression ended up hitting Mrs. Hunt really hard, and once her husband confirmed his daughter was comfortable taking care of Rook for a few hours at a time, he spent his time trying to take care of his wife.

Rook and his sister ended up spending a lot of their time outside or in her room - which, she had finally been allowed to get rid of things she didn't want anymore as she was able to reason with her mother that the baby should at least have a cleaner area to crawl as he got older. This ended up being even more beneficial, as his crib was in her room and she became the primary caretaker for him. During this time, her parents were just trying to keep her mom from giving up on everything.

When Rook was about two, their mother finally tried to reach out to a company that would help her clean, however, because the family lived off the grid, they had some money, but not enough for the job that was required. Rook's sister gently volunteered to start cleaning, but at this point, her father had also gotten used to the "cozy" feeling of having his kid's belongings all around him and struggled with the idea of having anything change, especially as his wife was just starting to get better, he thought changing her environment wouldn't be beneficial for her.

So Rook's sister respected her parent's decision and continued trying to take care of Rook to the best of her ability, however, she did so outside as often as possible, so in the winter when she had to stay inside with him, they would both get incredibly ill from black mold exposure. Her parents wrote it off as a cold, so her tipping point was when he couldn't breathe, even when she wrapped him up and took him outside. She swaddled him as best she could and trekked on foot to the nearest town, knocked on the first door she could get to, and begged for assistance for him. The people in the home drove them both to the hospital, where he was treated for his symptoms, and she was treated for frostbite. Her dad ended up tracking them down, acting glad to see them, but on the way home reprimanded her for pretending to be Rook's parent and for not letting the family handle it themselves, and making sure she didn't tell anyone about the situation at home.

As Rook got older, his sister took on the responsibility of getting him into school, as well as teaching him how to hunt/fish and general survival skills, the way her father had taught her. This type of influence kinda snapped her dad out of his agoraphobia and he started trying to get more involved with Rook and raising him, still out of the house. When Rook was about nine, his sister and mom got into a huge argument, and her mother blamed her for being the reason she wasn't close with her son. Rook then de-escalated the situation by showing his mother he had been reading her old research journals. While it wasn't a lot, it was enough for his mom to get her workspace back. His sister helped her clean and organize that space to the best of her ability, his father started to hunt more often again, and his mother started to lead him through the importance of the circle of life. As balance started to seep back into their lives, his older sister started feeling more comfortable leaving Rook in the care of her parents and really get to start her own life. She still feels guilt for leaving, but she promised Rook to stay penpals and they did! She would regularly send him trinkets from her stays wherever she was, and often sent photos of her visiting with their other big siblings, telling him one day she would come back for him and bring him to see the rest of the world. That was all Rook had to hang on to as his parents started to spiral again now that another child had left the house.

When Rook was about 12, his father brought home a hyacinth macaw for him, (yes by unethical means, but you knew that), and he found it absolutely gorgeous. He loved that bird more than anything, so when it went missing one day, he was absolutely heartbroken. He ended up finding the poor bird weeks later, stuck behind some books on his mother's bookshelf. His mother saw it as an excellent opportunity to brighten up the home with a splash of colour by getting Rook to taxidermy his beloved pet. After that day, he decided pets were overrated - animals were meant for food, for study, or for trophies and that was it.

It's not that he doesn't have good memories of his parents, there were certainly really high highs, but there were also very low lows. His parents haven't gotten much better in the house they live in, and he's gone minimal contact with them. He's still trying to get over the feeling of abandonment his sister left him with, but doesn't blame her for leaving. Overall, talking about home and family is just painful for him, so he'd rather not. He likes to watch people because he fantasizes about what his life could have been like if he were in their shoes instead.

[unforth]

Okay, so over on the business account ( @duckprintspress ) I said that I'd finished reading the newest article about the Hugos by Chris Barkley and Jason Sanford (this article) and written up some thoughts that troubled me. I AM gonna post them, because I feel strongly that there are aspects of this being pushed aside as if they don't matter, and. They do matter.

To be clear, I am NOT an expert. Most of my knowledge second or third hand, but I've been active in Chinese fandoms for four and a half years, have friends in China, am actively studying Chinese, and at least have a (white, Western) point of view a little different from what I've seen in coverage so far.

What's troubling to me here is the minimal discussion of the dangers in China. It's mentioned in passing that self-censorship happens because the placement of the red line is so unclear that no one is sure what will constitute passing it. Leaving aside that that's an intentional design feature from the Chinese government - they enforce when they want to enforce when they want to enforce it - what's not discussed in this article is who was actually at risk.

The Chengdu organizers in China: if McCarty and the others didn't comply, would the Chengdu organizers have been in danger of ruin? Imprisonment? Execution?

The Chinese authors who were removed from consideration: what were the perils to them and their families if they hadn't been removed from consideration?

The Western authors who were disqualified: if they hadn't been removed, what might have happened to them upon arrival in China? Could their safety have been ensured?

This article presents a very narrow view (and extremely important and informative one, but still only) into one aspect of what happened. At the beginning of it, Barkley indicates that this article shouldn't be considered a final word, and that's a point that really needs emphasis: we know now about exactly ONE aspect of what happened. We do not know what was getting communicated to the Chinese organizers, and we do not know what they were doing with that information. We don't even know who those Chinese organizers were, nor who their influencers, stakeholders, investors, etc., were, nor what their goals were.

This article, and many others, ultimately end up reading like the Western organizers were Actors and the Chinese government was an Actor and that everyone else in China involved who wasn't The Man (business, government, etc.) was a passive receiver of whatever these three groups did. Without more information about all those other people (who, granted, NEED anonymity to be safe, but we don't even have anonymous statements), what we know about this situation is glaringly, starkly lacking, and it feels (if I'm being generous in my interpretation) patronizing that all these regularly Chinese people are getting treated as not having agency under the monolith that is Chinese Government And Business Interests (ill-defined in everything I've read) on the one hand and, on the other hand, Very Specific Named Western People Who Get To Have Names, Power, Agency, And Active Participation In Events.

We have no information whatsoever on what risks the Chinese organizers might have been willing to take.

We have no information whatsoever on what was discussed with the specific Chinese people who set this event up, bought ballots, etc., etc.

It's this ginormous gaping hole in the coverage, and while this gets acknowledged a little in this article, what no one seems to be saying is "if people outside China can't get this information for various reasons, perhaps we're not the right people to tell this story" or at least "we're only able to tell a small part of the story and people who have the necessary language skills, information, expertise, and contacts should do what they can to bring more to light." And again, Barkley and Sanford DO acknowledge that, but in ways that read to me as throwaway and incidental (my opinion, only, other people may have found that wording more impactful, I was already getting frustrated by that point and that would have colored by interpretation), and in the end I feel like it prevents them from posing some of the questions that are truly essential to understanding this. (Some of this is likely known, just not by me, to be clear, but these are the questions I'd personally like to know more about before I can draw firm conclusions about what happened.) For example:

Who in China was really behind organizing and funding this?

Why was the decision made to hold the event in China?

What research was done into Chinese censorship before the event bid was accepted, and what impact did the results of that research have on the decision to accept the bid? How much of that information was provided to the people reviewing the bids, and when and how was that information presented?

What is happening that is causing Chinese posts on this topic to be deleted?

What is the danger to Chinese fans who've spoken out? What is the danger to the Chinese organizers of the event? Have they been victims of reprisals, and are they safe now?

WAS this self-censorship or active censorship, and who was ultimately responsible for the decisions to remove the ballots?

There's so much we don't know, and so much that we probably can't find out at all, but the focus solely on Western sources (by Western journalists and interests, who seem to rarely have ANY contacts in China, much less ones capable of providing useful information) has been a huge flaw of virtually every bit of coverage I've seen on this.

China isn't a ginormous evil black box, and I'm getting really tired of reading coverage that foists off explaining what happened there onto "well, acshwally, the Chinese government..."

What I really want is an acknowledgement that had Dave McCarty refused to do this research, there's a very real chance that people's lives could have been in danger in China. And it's all well and nice for a bunch of people in the West to say "they should have stood up for what was right." But the Western Hugo awards committee people are NOT the people who would have been in danger had they taken a stand. They could have sat perfectly safe in countries with more secure freedom of speech, while their counterparts in China and Chengdu had their lives ruined over it.

And I'm not saying that was a factor.

I'm say we don't know. And without knowing that, I'll own I'm extremely skeptical of any conclusions being drawn about what we DO know. And I'm saying that if McCarty and the others knew that was a risk that existed, it could have colored their decision-making process, and pretending that the issue wasn't a factor feels naive at best. Knowing that the event was settled in Chengdu and couldn't be moved, I wish I was seeing more people asking: was insisting that these works be nominated for an award worth risking the lives of people's lives for? If there was active censorship, and McCarty and the others had fought it, could the Hugo awards have possibly have won against that active censorship, and if they'd tried and failed, what would the consequences have been?

Based on this article, I'm genuinely frightened for Chinese SF/F fandom organizers, authors, and fans right now. I've seen what can happen to people in China, and I'll own it's distressing to see how little that factor seems to matter to the people upset about the censorship, all of whom are safe in places that aren't China.

I want to see more discussion of: once the bid for Chengdu was accepted, what were the genuine options left on this topic? Was this censorship an inevitable outcome of holding the Hugos there? Or, as I personally suspect, is what is happening now not the result of the Hugos being held there OR of the censorship that was done by whoever did it, but rather the result of how all this coverage is making China look bad (when we STILL DON'T KNOW IF CHINA HAD A HAND IN THE CENSORSHIP AT ALL)?

I think we're missing way, way to much information for the level of conclusion that I'm seeing people draw based on this article, including myself in the meme I made based on only a surface understanding of the contents of this article.

I'll own, as someone who knows just enough about China to understand some of the risks people there took, this is feeling like a lot of Westerners going "CENSORSHIP BAD! STAND FOR WHAT'S RIGHT!" while sitting safe and sound and ignoring their counterparts in China and all of the Chinese SF/F fandom screaming "THIS IS DANGEROUS FOR US THIS COULD RUIN OUR LIVES."

I'm. Not comfortable with a lot of what I'm reading, including parts of this article. I'm not saying I know bad things have happened or will happen, but I do feel that a lot of people opening their mouths know far too little about China, and do not seem to think they have a responsibility to learn more, to be taking the stands that they are.

[yaemilko]

🪷 20. what if? (1718 words)

"i know it's been like what? two months? but i'm glad you two made up" hu tao spoke, glancing at ayato and you.

"yeah, it was a torture to watch, and even worse to be around cranky ayato" added kaeya, "anyway, i'm just glad you stopped being a jerk and properly apologized."

ayato softly laughed before hu tao spoke again "yeah but if you do that to my bestie again i'm gonna be the one both murdering you and organizing your funeral."

"noted" said ayato.

glancing around the room, you took a sip of your soda, preparing yourself for the next topic your friend group would dive into - completely not prepared for lumine to speak.

"oh c'mon tao, it's not like he hasn't apologized a million times already. and it's not like y/n isn't partially at fault for the whole thing."

you furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what your roommate meant by that. you were at fault? how? "excuse me?" you muttered, confused.

hu tao cut in at that moment, speaking over you, "honestly lumine, i love you but like? back off. who are you to say who's at fault and who's not?"

"i just spoke my mind" retorted lumine, "why are you picking a fight with me?"

"well, you spoke wrongly. i'm just saying."

"i-"

"ALRIGHT. ladies, calm down, it's all in the past now. besides, it's none of our business, it's y/n and ayato's. so, unless they have something to say, i suggest we drop this already." the tension was broken by kaeya, who then looked at both you and ayato as if he was expecting something.

"it is between us and i think none of you should have a say in it, however close we may be." you finally spoke.

"i agree. and i'll apologize as many times as i need. there's no need to get worked up over it, lum. we're good." ayato said, his eyes landing on lumine who was sitting next to him, and she nodded.

the conversation moved on smoothly after that, props to kaeya and hu tao for dispersing the tension and coming up with things to talk about, the latest one being some movie everyone but you seems to have watched.

you excused yourself to the bathroom, and on your way back you just stopped to stand in the doorway. you were looking at your friends, who haven't noticed your presence yet, quietly observing the room and the atmosphere. you couldn't help but notice how close ayato and lumine seemed like this, from afar, sitting next to each other, laughing and talking. at some particular thing ayato said, lumine laughed loudly, gently slapping his arm in the process, he smiled back at her. you couldn't figure out what was so funny.

this wasn't a novelty – for the past two months since you and ayato patched up your friendship, you've started noticing the little things the two of your friends did that made you wonder.. what if? you started noticing how you always felt like an outsider, even if then never tried to make you feel that way. sometimes you just felt like you were intruding on something you shouldn't be. you didn't let yourself go there completely though, but the thought was always there, in the back of your mind. what if they're falling for each other?

you shook your head, trying to get out of your thoughts, and started making your way back when your phone rang, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. suddenly, four pairs of eyes were on you, watching you, as you looked at the phone in your hand and sighing once you saw the caller.

"um. it's scara. i'm just gonna go to the balcony and talk to him for a bit, see what's up. you guys carry on, i won't be long." you said before making your way out and answering.

"hey." you breathed into the phone

"hi, are you free right now?" scaramouche greeted back.

"um, i'm at ayato's with hu tao, lumine and kaeya, but i can talk for a bit. what's up?"

"oh.. sorry for disturbing you then. i was just wondering if we could study for the upcoming exams together." he said

"you're not disturbing, and i'd love to! we're quite a pair when it comes to studying." you laughed.

he chuckled back, "hahahah yeah, alright then. we'll text about the details then?"

you hummed into the phone, "yeah. uh. scara? could i talk to you for a bit?"

"..of course. what's bothering you?"

"i'm just.. hypothetically, what would you do if the person you had feelings for started catching feelings for your friend and you watched it happen. i mean – you're not sure about them catching feelings, but you have a pretty good hunch, you know what i mean?" you said in one breath, breathing in loudly once you were done.

he paused for a moment before answering, "yes i do know what you mean. is this about lumine and ayato?"

"how did you know..?"

it was his turn to sigh, "i'm not blind y/n, i've noticed them hanging out, and about you.. is that necessary to answer? of course i'd notice you had feelings. are you forgetting we've known each other for basically our entire lives?"

"damn. i tried to hide it tho.. was it that noticeable??"

a small laugh escaping him once again, he answered "hahah, to your close friends, yes. what happened for you to ask this?"

you leaned over the railing, softly humming into the phone "hmm.. it's just a thought i've been having for a while now. actually, i've had it ever since they met. nothing in particular happened, you just should've seen them earlier. a big part of me is screaming that it's obvious they caught feelings.. you know she even defended him earlier? i just.. don't know.." you breathe out, "so what would you do?"

silence envelops you both again while he gathers his thoughts, "..shit. i can't tell you that, y/n. it's on you to decide how to act, and even if i told you what to do you wouldn't listen."

"fair enough but like, what are my options? i'm stuck."

he sighed, "well, you could either confront them or ignore it and try to move on... or tell him about your feelings."

"and have him turn me down? nah, i dont think i could handle that."

"what makes you think he'd turn you down?" he said immediately after, no uncertainty in his voice whatsoever.

"have you been listening? i told you i think he's starting to catch feeling for lumine. i can't do that. besides, i already blew our chances of ever getting back together long ago. i just want this to be over. i want to move on." you rambled, exasperated.

"there you go. you should know what's best for you. and y/n?"

"yeah?" you breathed out.

"lumine's your friend. even if she liked him, i doubt she'd get in a relationship with him, knowing your history."

chuckling, you said "hah, i wonder about that.. anyway, thank you. i'm sorry for dumping all of this on you."

"it's alright. i'm always here to listen to you, that's what friends are for, right?"

moment of silence. then, "right. i should go now, i'll text you later, kay?"

"okay. bye, y/n."

"talk to you later, scara."

after hanging up, you decided to remain on the balcony for a bit longer, sorting the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. what was the best thing to do?

you don't know how much time passed with you standing there, staring into nothingness, before your peace was broken by the sound of the balcony door opening, the one person clouding your thoughts walking out and joining you.

"are you alright? you've been gone for quite some time" ayato spoke, breaking the silence

you looked at him briefly, then turned back and stared at the cityscape again. "i'm great. just got lost in thoughts for a bit. it's beautiful up here, isn't it?"

he smiled, "it is." coming out from him before he moved to stand next to you, joining you in staring at nothing ahead.

you knew what you had to do – universe gracefully blessed you with this opportunity. you wanted to know. you had to ask. so you did.

the sound of silence was broken by your sudden question. "hey ayato.. do you like lumine?" and then you turned to look at him, the little voice in the back of your mind hoping he'd say you were wrong.

he looked at you once again, his eyes burning holes right through you. the silence was deafening and you found yourself wishing you'd never asked. you weren't ready for the answer. he searched your eyes for a long moment, his gaze so powerful it hurt, but you didn't dare look away. you wondered what he was looking for, why was it taking him so long to answer.

he opened his mouth, preparing to say something, then closed it again. breaking eye contact, he looked away and sighed like he was defeated.

".. i think i do. why?"

you could feel something inside you breaking. why does it have to be like this? you were prepared to hear that, you knew it for months now, but why does it still hurt like that?

despite the turmoil of emotions in your soul, you smiled. you can get through this, you thought to yourself. don't let him know that hurt. it's your fault for not getting rid of your feelings earlier.

"oh, it's just a thought i had and i wanted to check. thank you for telling me though."

"... yeah."

awkwardness filled the air, you not knowing what to say anymore, and wanting to just jump off that damned balcony or burn the whole apartment complex down with you in it. it'd be easier that way, you thought.

"well, should we get inside now? it's kinda chilly out here." you chuckled again, hurriedly moving towards the balcony door.

"y/n, wait."

you stopped in your tracks and then turned to look at him again.

"yeah?"

ayato looked at the ground, then looked at you once more, awkwardly scratching his head.

"do you think i have a chance with her?"

ONCE MORE 🪷 previous · masterlist · next

ayato x reader social media au

SYNOPSIS what happens when your ex comes back from abroad and you realize you still like him, but as destiny likes to play with us all it just so happens that he starts getting closer with your roommate? what will you do?

a/n – i'm sorry . anyway! see you all on tuesday since i won't be able to update until then! also - have you listened to midnights? if so – come tell me your fav songs <3 thank you for reading and enjoying the story!!

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[marlynnofmany]

Where Wormholes Come From

As much as I was enjoying my Engine Rings™ cheesy snacks — and that was a great deal, since I’d just discovered them on a human-run space station — it wasn’t so much of a distraction that I didn’t notice worried voices as I walked past the cockpit.

I paused in the doorway to see Wio in her chair, tentacles adjusting the controls with nervous speed while Kavlae stood and pointed at one of the displays. I had no idea what that screen showed. But the two pilots sure seemed to, and it didn’t look good.

“Are you sure it’s organic?” Wio was asking.

“It has to be!” Kavlae said, head frills flaring. “I’ve never seen this kind of reading on anything else. Not even new technology.”

Wio muttered something unintelligible, tapping buttons and turning dials. She didn’t react when I folded my bag of crunchy snacks and shoved it in a pocket.

I leaned into the room. “Is something wrong?”

Kavlae looked up at that, the picture of blue-skinned concern. “Possibly,” she admitted. “Dangerous, at any rate. I was making a final sweep for the end of my shift, and I think I’ve found a fresh wormhole.”

I waited for more information, but didn’t get any. “Why is that bad?”

“Because it clearly wasn’t made with any technology I’ve seen,” Kavlae said with a melodramatic sweep of a hand. “There are organic traces and rough edges. This is fresh.”

Before I could repeat my question, Wio chimed in. “And a fresh wormhole might mean the worm is still around, among other things.”

“Uh,” I said. Apparently my Earth-bound education about space travel had missed a key point. “I did not know wormholes are made by actual worms. I thought people built them? Or they just happen?”

“People do build them,” Wio said. She finished messing with the controls and twisted her tentacles around each other. “And the way they ‘just happen’ is because of the space worms. Which we don’t want to get anywhere near.”

Kavlae waved me forward. “You’ve got good color vision, right? See if anything long and wiggly shows up on these scans. It’ll be subtle; they’re probably in deep.”

I stepped up to the row of small screens under the main one, full of questions. “Deep in what, hyperspace? Why do we want to avoid them? Are they predatory? Or territorial, or easily startled?” The main screen just showed the usual stars, but the little ones were a riot of charts and diagrams. Kavlae pointed at the one that was an incomprehensible swirl of yellow and green.

“Yes, hyperspace,” Wio said.

“They’re not predatory,” Kavlae said with certainty.

“Well, how do we know?” Wio countered.

“There have been studies!” Kavlae said. “They eat the fabric of space-time itself, not spaceships.”

“What about the chewy center of those spaceships?” Wio retorted.

“There have been studies,” Kavlae insisted.

Part of the green image did look a little wormy. I wondered whether I should interrupt, not sure if I was imagining it, then I remembered Eggskin the medic’s offhand comment on how good human eyesight was in picking out shades of green — just like edible vs non-edible plants back home. Maybe the two pilots really couldn’t see something that I could.

“Is that—” I started.

“Anyways, it’s not the space worms you need to worry about,” Wio spoke over me. “It’s the space moles that follow.”

The universe has perfect timing, because that was the moment a clear green line appeared on the chart, straight as an arrow and moving fast.

Kavlae squeaked, pointing at the screen.

Wio made a popping noise that I recognized as a swear word, and pressed several buttons at once.

A snakelike shape the color of starlight erupted into sight on the main screen, glowing as it curled back down a brand new wormhole, right in front of our ship. Which stopped in its tracks, all three of us yelling in surprise.

But that was nothing compared to the enormous black shape that clawed its way out of the starfield in hot pursuit. It was a different shade of black from the void of space, but I couldn’t say which. All I made out in that adrenaline-filled moment was claws, teeth, and terrifyingly large.

We screamed in three different octaves as the ripples in space hit the ship, rocking it even with the artificial gravity. I heard something crash down the hall. Other people were yelling. They didn’t matter.

The space mole really was going after the worm, not us — it plowed back down into the surface of reality, digging in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. And it was so, so fast.

The mole disappeared with one last kick of a barely-seen foot or tail or something else. The starfield rippled and shook like the surface of a pond. I realized I was clutching the back of Wio’s chair. Alarms were going off on the console.

After a moment in which nothing else jumped out at us, I managed to convince my fingers to let go. Kavlae collapsed into her own chair. The little screen was calm yellow. Without a word, Wio changed our course to somewhere presumably safer.

Running footsteps sounded in the hall, leading to a traffic jam of concern in the doorway: all tentacles and frills and very wide eyes. A calm but stern voice cut through the chatter. The crowd parted to let Captain Sunlight through, every inch the levelheaded and unflappable role model who wasn’t about to let some turbulence and screaming rattle her. She was wiping what looked like orange soup off one yellow-scaled hand. But she did it with dignity.

“What happened?” she asked.

I answered first. “Space worm and a space mole.”

“Really,” the captain said while the hallway exploded into conversation.

“They almost hit us!” Kavlae exclaimed, waving arms and frills from where she sat slumped in her chair.

“Any damage?” Captain Sunlight asked.

“Nope,” Wio said, with surprising cheer. “And I have better news.” She manipulated the controls some more, then sat back as a framed image appeared in the middle of the main screen. “I got a recording.”

Everyone exclaimed about that while the captured footage played. I was torn between watching it again because it was amazing, and watching the little yellow screen for more hints of green. I tried to do both.

“Well done,” Captain Sunlight said. “I know just the scientists to give first shot at that recording. And knowing them, this may end up in a very lucrative bidding war. You just make sure you get us to our destination safely!”

“Absolutely, Captain!” Wio said with a twirl of a tentacle. “I will keep a close eye on all the readouts.”

“I’ll help,” I volunteered, eyeing a suspicious green tinge that was probably nothing.

“I will take a nap,” Kavlae declared. “Then come back early.”

Wio waved her toward the crowded doorway. “Take your time! You need some rest after that. Don’t worry; we’ll scream if there’s anything important.”

“I’ll remind you that we do have an intercom,” said the captain drily.

I replied, “Screaming’s faster.”

Wio said at the same time, “We’ll scream over the intercom if there’s anything important.”

Captain Sunlight huffed in amusement. “Of course you will. Right! Everyone else, go check the ship for damaged items. Mur, help Mimi in the engine room. Paint, go with Eggskin; medbay first, then kitchen.” She rattled off more assignments to make sure all the important rooms were looked into. Then she ushered everyone on their way, and headed back to whatever she’d been doing. Probably cleaning up spilled soup.

With a glance at Wio, I took Kavlae’s chair, hands folded carefully in my lap. The snacks in my pocket crinkled. I left them there — I wasn’t about to make a mess in the cockpit, nor would I touch a single thing.

But that yellow-and-green swirl, oh I would be watching that very carefully.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

[echo-goes-mmm]

Hoarding Behavior #5

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: dehumanization

Noct sat behind him, brushing his hair and purring. It was nice. He liked the gentle attention, and his hands were warm and careful.

“Pretty thing,” he murmured, “I should let your hair grow. I could braid it into patterns and weave gold into it.”

River wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking to him, but the compliment made his chest flutter. No one had ever talked about him like that before.

A claw-tipped finger traced over the skin of his shoulder. Master had dressed him in a silken off-the-shoulder shirt, in a beautiful ruby color. 

“Your freckles are like bronze,” he sighed. He tilted River’s head with a gentle hand. He studied River, staring into his eyes. A pleased smile graced Master’s face. 

“Precious emeralds set in bronze,” he said, “my little gem. So perfect.”

“Thank you, Master.” Noct’s tail swished with happiness. He hummed as he finished brushing his hair.

River knew he was just another object to Noct. And he was okay with it. After all, outside he was just another slave. There wasn’t much of a difference.

After, he watched Master polish the various silver items he had hoarded. Finally, a task he could do.

“Can I help?” Noct looked up from the vase. 

“You might get polish on your hands.”

“I can clean them later. Please, Master?” he pleaded. He was just so bored.

“I suppose you may.” 

River grabbed a silver cup and began to work it over. They sat together for a while, and River eyed how thorough and careful Master was. He was completely focused on the piece in his hands, almost lovingly polishing the vase. 

“Why are you so intrigued by polishing?” asked Master after a few minutes of silence.

“I-” would Noct punish him for complaining? “I need something to do. It’s hard to pass the time.”

“I see.” 

“I used to cook and clean the whole day away for my other masters,” explained River, “and here, you don’t need me to.”

Master hummed in acknowledgement. “I have many books you may enjoy. I will allow that.”

“I can’t read.”

“A pity.”

Master sighed. “I clean my own things. I cannot allow you to handle them without me.” Noct finished the vase, standing to put it in its proper place. 

“I’m really sorry about the statue,” said River, “I won’t break anything again. I’m more used to the chain, now.” Noct sat down again and picked up a candlestick. 

“It is not about the statue. I have already punished you, there is no use lingering on it. It is simple a fact of my nature. I maintain my own hoard, and that is all. Others may not.”

River thought it over. “But I’m doing it right now?”

“I am trying not to think about it,” Master said, tightly. River was pushing his luck. 

River set the polished cup aside, moving on to a platter. Master plucked the cup from the nest, eyeing it. It must be satisfactory, because he stood to put it away.

He thought about the bath. Noct still didn’t let him get clean on his own, insisting on washing his hair and body for him. Was that “maintenance” to Master?

“Am I part of your hoard?”

“Of course, my treasure. Have I not made it clear?” Noct shook his head, amused.

“Then… why do I count as ‘other’? Can’t I help?” Master huffed.

“It is hard to explain. I… suppose you may touch and move pieces of my hoard. Organize, perhaps.”

“Like the jewelry you keep meaning to display?” He thought of the rings that got caught in Master’s claws.

“Yes. Like that. A fine idea. Will that keep you busy for now?”

“I guess,” he shrugged. 

“Hm. What would help you?” asked Master, “You are mine, so I must know.”

“A clock,” he said immediately. “I never know what time it is in here.”

“Very well.”

“And… some puzzles?” Noct made a sound of curiosity.

“Um, like jigsaw puzzles. They come in a box with hundreds or thousands of pieces and you have to fit them together into a picture.”

“Interesting. Yes, I will get you puzzles. I may take up a collection. I enjoy art, but the curved walls make it difficult to hang paintings. These... puzzle pictures may be a satisfying compromise.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Noct reached out and patted his head affectionately. “You are so pretty and good for me, how could I say no?” 

___________________

The clock was just as gorgeous as the rest of Master’s furniture. A beautiful grandfather clock, it rang the hour and half hour with pretty bells and chimes. 

Master had acquired ring holders, earring displays, and glass cases. The cases were for his most opulent pieces, like his diamond encrusted necklaces and assortment of actual crowns and tiaras.

River decided he wouldn’t ask where those came from.

Master asked that he sort them by gem and then by metal, and River was glad to do it. It was satisfying in its own way, and the hum of appreciation and murmurs of ‘good boy’ made him blush.

He never got thanked for his work before. Master ruffled his hair when he passed by, and scooped up the finished cases to put them on dedicated shelves.

The gems glittered from across the room, bathing the entire section in tiny rainbows when the lantern light was right. It was so pretty.

And Master had been taking such good care of him. The same kind of loving affection he extended to all of his hoard.

Outside, he was just another slave. In here, he was Master’s precious gem. His treasure. River was his, and that meant something. 

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