#i'm going to laugh at something then move on with my day

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part seven)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / Bucky Barnes x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve's visitors in the 1950s force him to accept the truth. The new Captain America drives a wedge in the reader's relationship with Bucky.

themes/warnings : pining, angst, Loki and Mobius featured

word count : 2k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

The 1950s, seven months after Steve's arrival

You're not supposed to be here.

The sound of an old radio drifts lazily through the air, some crooner from a time long forgotten. Loki lingers behind Mobius in the living room, adjusting his coat with a smirk that practically drips with condescension. He's enjoying the storm of emotion on Steve's face.

"What do you mean?" The former Captain America asks.

Mobius and Loki exchange glances before Mobius steps forward, pulling out a small, metallic device that flickers with a strange light.

Mobius gets right into his explanation, gesturing to the TemPad, its holographic images flashing in front of Steve: timelines splitting, branches forming, collapsing under the careful pruning of the TVA.

Steve simply watches as the enormity of it sinks in. His world is crumbling around him yet again.

"What do you think you're doing here, Captain?" Loki drawls, his eyes glinting with an odd mix of amusement and sympathy. "Living the quiet life, are we? Playing house in the 1950s?"

Mobius sighs, ignoring Loki's taunts. "You know why we’re here, Steve. We came to bring you back. You weren’t meant to stay."

Steve’s eyes flicker with a brief flash of something – regret? Guilt? Or was that hope? He turns slightly, casting a glance at the quaint home he stands in, and then back at Mobius. "I made my decision."

"Yeah, you did," Loki interrupts, crossing his arms as he sizes up the man in front of him. "And look where that’s gotten you. Hiding out in a time that doesn’t belong to you."

Steve’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening. He can feel the accusation hanging in the air, too familiar, too true. But he keeps his voice steady, his shoulders stiff. "I came back to claim what I deserve."

Mobius steps closer, his voice softer now. "While I understand that, Steve... Right now, you’re living in the past – a time which was never meant to be your present."

Steve says nothing. The truth is a splinter lodged in his chest, one that’s been festering since he first stepped into this world that wasn’t his. Because it wasn’t really about Peggy anymore. It was about you.

You. The one he left behind, the one he’s thought about every single day since he made that fateful choice. He had convinced himself he was doing the right thing, that he could live in the past and let go of everything. But the truth gnawed at him. He wasn’t living here – he was hiding.

"I had to come back," Steve mutters, almost to himself. "I owed it to Peggy."

Loki lets out a sharp laugh, drawing Steve’s attention. "Oh, please. Owing someone something doesn’t mean trapping yourself in a past that doesn’t need you. Peggy moved on, Steve. She had a life. But you? You abandoned yours."

He abandoned you. He abandoned Bucky.

Mobius sighs again, hands slipping into his pockets as he tries to cut through Loki’s sharp edges. "Steve, we’re not here just because of your choices. You staying here, in this time – it’s creating problems. Serious ones."

Steve frowns, straightening. "You prune timelines. What’s one more divergence?"

Mobius rubs the back of his neck, glancing at Loki before answering. "You're not just some random variant. You're Captain America. The impact of your absence is like pulling a thread from a tightly woven tapestry. Everything starts to unravel. Even the TVA can't stop the consequences of that for long."

Steve’s face hardens. "I'm just living quietly, out of the way. No one knows I'm here."

Loki’s voice cuts in, sharp and cold. "And every day you stay, more branches form. The longer you hide from where you're meant to be, the more damage is done."

Mobius steps forward, his voice steady but urgent. "Steve, we can only prune so much before the entire thing collapses. And trust me, when that happens, we don’t just erase this reality. We erase you."

"I don't believe – "

"We erase her."

Steve’s breath catches, his mind racing. This wasn’t what he thought. Now that harm is directed to you, the situation has drastically changed for him.

"And what if I go back?" Steve’s voice is tight, controlled, but beneath it is a thread of fear, of hope.

Mobius softens, sensing the shift. "If you go back, the timeline stabilizes. The branches collapse. The Steve Rogers your world remembers – the one who fought for the future, not the past – returns. And her…" He pauses, carefully choosing his words. "She's still waiting for you, Steve."

"Is she?" Loki cuts in, his tone mischievous as can be. "Didn't they just – "

Mobius sharply stops him right then and there. "Shut up, Loki."

Steve's heart twists painfully. His choice had been selfish, and he knows that. He'd run from you, from a future he was afraid to face. A life he believed could never offer peace.

"What if it's too late?" His voice breaks, just a little, his heart finally admitting the one thing he’s been too afraid to say.

Mobius smiles gently. "You’ve made tough calls before, Steve. But this isn’t about war, or duty, or sacrifice. This is about you. You deserve to live in your timeline – with the people who need you. She needs you. Go back, Steve. Fix what you can still fix."

Steve stands in silence, torn between the life he thought he wanted and the one that’s still waiting for him. He thought staying here would bring him peace, but all it's brought is doubt, regret, and a gnawing emptiness. He doesn't have his heart here with him.

Steve is about to speak, when Hunter comes bounding in the room, tail wagging wildly as he takes in the intruders. Another thing that Steve will have to leave behind.

But, apparently not.

"The dog can come with you," Mobius offers, shrugging lightly.

"What?" Loki turns to him in amused disbelief.

"Oh c'mon. Hunter is just as much hers, as he is Steve's."

2024, seven months after Steve's departure

For a while, everything had felt right.

Whatever right was in your lives.

Until the TV in your apartment blared the news about John Walker, Captain America 2.0.

Bucky watched it, jaw clenched, as some stranger stood there in Steve's uniform, parading the shield like it had only ever been his.

Bucky saw the flash of pain that crossed your face, which quickly transformed into anger.

He felt it almost immediately. You were pulling back, closing yourself off, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when the ghost of Steve is hovering between the two of you.

Was it still about Steve? Or was it about the future you both thought you had a handle on, until some nobody took everything that Steve represents?

Bucky knows you're hurting. He feels it. He's felt it since the moment Steve left – when you were left behind, and so was he.

And it kills him, seeing you like this, maybe even more than the pain he feels from being left behind.

Steve's shadow is keeping you from fully being here, with him, and it's a fresh kind of hurt.

You shut the TV off and irately toss the remote somewhere in the room.

Bucky clenches his fists and finally speaks, his voice rougher than usual. "We should go see Sam."

"Okay," you respond, your voice calm yet empty.

He's not going to lose you. He can't.

"Doll?"

Your response is a barely audible hum.

Bucky reaches for your hand, his anchor. "We're gonna be okay."

You nod, and offer a weak smile.

It's enough, for now.

When you arrive at Sam's, the tension doesn't ease. Sam takes one look at the two of you, and immediately detects that something is off.

Obviously, there's the matter of Walker. But he sees that there's something different too.

Just what the hell did you and Bucky get yourselves into?

Bucky and Sam exchange a look – one loaded with frustration – before Bucky breaks the silence. "We can't let Walker carry that shield, Sam. Before Steve left, he – "

Sam sighs, shaking his head. "He hinted at wanting to pass the mantle on to you or me – "

Bucky intervenes, "It should be you."

" – but... it's out of our hands, Buck. The government's already made their decision."

The words hit Bucky like a punch. You stay quiet, your mind whirring. You're thinking about Steve again – Bucky can see it.

Something settles in the pit of his stomach. It's nasty and unwelcome, and it makes him want to reach for you and shake Steve out of your thoughts.

He wants to tell you that he's here, and Steve isn't.

He's jealous.

Great, Bucky groans internally, I'm jealous of a damn ghost.

Sam watches the two of you for a moment, sensing the tension. "We'll figure something out. But for now, we have to let this play out. I've got other things on my plate right now."

"What is it?" you finally speak up, concern evident in your tone. "Anything we can do to help?"

"I've been hearing talk about this group. They call themselves the Flag Smashers. I can show you guys the briefing. They're out there right now, and they're not gonna wait for us to get our act together."

"We're coming with you," Bucky says, his voice steady and unflinching.

"Non-negotiable," you confirm, smirking, stepping closer to Bucky as a show of unity.

Sam hesitates, arms crossed as if weighing his options, then his gaze lingers on Bucky's neck. Then slowly – too slowly – he glances at you.

That's when he finally catches on.

The look on his face is almost comical, his eyes widening as he clocks the similar, telltale mark at the crook of your neck.

"Oh, man. Really?"

You feel your cheeks heat instantly as Sam's smirk grows wider.

"What? It's not – " you try to speak, but Sam's having none of it.

"No, no, no. This explains a lot. Like, a lot." He's grinning now, shaking his head like he's finally in on the joke. "I mean, all this weird energy... I thought y'all we're just mad about Walker, but now I get it. Shoulda known. It makes a lot of sense, the two of you."

You glance at Bucky, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere but in that room.

"It's not like that," you mutter defensively, even though it's pointless with Sam.

"Sure, sure," Sam says, failing to suppress a chuckle. "You two just happened to get the same exact bruise in the same exact spot. Must have been a hell of a battle, huh?"

Bucky just scowls, though his ears are tinged pink. "So are you going to brief us or what?"

"Nah, man, you're good. So, what's the plan? You gonna take on the Flag Smashers like it's some couples' retreat?"

You sigh. "We're helping. That's it. This conversation is over."

"Okay, okay," Sam raises both hands in surrender, but he doesn't miss the chance to land another jab. "You're in. But maybe leave the hickeys for after the mission, yeah?"

"Shut up, Wilson," Bucky grumbles. Then he mutters under his breath, as Sam walks away to retrieve the files – "No promises."

You shoot him a look that lets him know you heard him, and he meets your gaze coolly. He wanted you to hear.

You feel a bit lighter – it's the effect he has on you.

Even though chaos has set back in your reality, and even though you're not quite sure where things stand between you and Bucky, there's one thing you know for sure – you're going into this together.

Non-negotiable.

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Some notes in the margins...

Stevie boy's coming back! With Hunter!! I guess you can say he'll actually give Bucky something to be jealous about. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Judging by the results of this poll, yous are heavily pro-Bucky. Can't blame ya. But is he endgame?

What do you think will happen when they're all back together in the next part? 🙃

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃♡𝐠𝐬 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Plagued Aegon x Plagued Reader part 1

Summary: you were no longer a human. You were a rat. Something for them to experiment on for their own sick pleasure. You hate everything. God why it's always happening to you? What did you do to deserve this? But just beside you is a man. A man who don't even know his name and yet he's so hopeful. As if he believes you gonna be save...

Warning: torture, unknown virus, abuse, amnesia.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. And yes I'm inspired by The Plague Dogs. Original gif by @kieraknightley. Hope you enjoy!

The door to her cell clanged open, and she was yanked from the remnants of sleep. Her eyes shot open, the same as every other day, staring at the blank, cold walls around her, the air thick with the smell of rot. The guards entered with heavy, careless footsteps, their faces hidden beneath gas masks, those black eyes like hollow pits staring back. Always covered, always distant.

She hated them. Every last one of them.

The guard threw a metal tray onto the ground by the door, the slop on it sloshing onto the filthy floor. He didn’t even bother looking at her. None of them did. She glared up at him, her hands clenched into fists by her side. It took everything in her not to spit on the tray, not to lash out. The heavy door of Egg’s cell creaked next to hers, and she could hear him scrambling up, his voice weak, hopeful.

“Thank you!” Egg’s voice was filled with too much sincerity for this hellhole. She could hear him thanking them every day, like a child grateful for scraps.

The guards only laughed. One of them stepped forward and kicked Egg’s tray, sending it flying into the dirt and filth. She heard Egg's soft gasp, the shuffle as he hurried to clean up the food. "Pathetic," one of the guards spat, his voice muffled by the mask. "Still pretending to be grateful. Like we give a shit."

She glared at them, her heart pounding in her chest. Bastards. All of them. Their mocking words, the way they looked down at her and Egg like they weren’t even human anymore, burned inside her. She pulled her knees to her chest, locking her jaw, refusing to touch the slop they'd left her. The smell alone made her stomach churn.

“You should be grateful,” another guard sneered, crouching just far enough from her reach, “for the food, for us keeping you alive. Without us, you'd be rotting by now.” His gaze flickered to Egg’s cell. “Or worse, like that freak over there.”

He stepped closer to the bars, his breath coming in harsh, shallow bursts behind the mask. She could feel his gaze on her, even if she couldn’t see his eyes. “What’s wrong? You don’t want it? Worthless slut.” His voice was thick with contempt, the words dripping with that familiar venom.

Her jaw tightened. She could feel her pulse pounding in her head, the fury rising up through her like a storm. She wanted to lunge at him, rip the mask from his face, spit every hateful thing she’d ever thought right into his eyes. She wanted him to feel the same helpless rage she felt every single day.

But then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Egg.

He was watching her, his food forgotten for a moment, his wide, innocent eyes filled with worry. He shook his head, just the slightest movement, like a silent plea for her to stay calm. To let it go.

Her breath hitched. The anger in her chest twisted, turned into something else. Something that left her feeling hollow.

She bit her tongue hard, tasted the iron of her own blood, and looked away.

The guard laughed, his voice harsh and brittle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, and then he was gone, his boots pounding away down the corridor.

They left eventually, their laughter echoing down the hallway. The door slammed shut behind them with a final, metallic thud. Her gaze lingered on the untouched tray in front of her. For a moment, she didn’t move. Just sat there, legs pulled tight against her chest, staring at the cold stone floor. Her heart was still beating too fast, the remnants of that anger still coursing through her veins like a poison.

Egg’s voice broke the silence. “It’s good today. Really good.” He was already eating again, his fingers picking at the slop, oblivious to the fact that it was barely fit for a stray dog. She could see him through the bars, see the way his face lit up at the smallest bite, the way he savored it like it was something real, something substantial.

Slowly, she dragged her own tray closer, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She poked at it with one finger, barely able to stomach the thought of even tasting it. The mush was cold, congealed. Bits of unidentifiable meat and vegetables floating in a grayish slop. It looked rancid. The smell alone was enough to make her sick. “You like this?” she muttered, glancing over at Egg, who paused with a piece of it halfway to his mouth.

He nodded eagerly, his pale eyes wide with that same, childlike innocence she never understood. “Yes,” he said, his voice soft, “it’s not so bad. Better than nothing.”

She stared at him, at the way he seemed almost happy, even with the bruises on his arms, even with his bald head and the rot creeping up his foot. He was breaking down, piece by piece, and still, he was grateful.

She sighed, pushing the tray toward the bars between them. “You want mine?”

His head snapped up, surprise lighting his face. “Really?” he asked, his voice full of that strange, childlike gratitude. “You’re sure?”

She pushed the tray toward him, not bothering to answer. What was the point? He’d take it anyway, with or without her permission. He always did. And part of her—despite herself—was glad for it. Glad that at least one of them could still find joy in something, no matter how small or disgusting.

She watching as he pulled it into his cell with a quiet, “Thank you.” He dug in, as if it were a feast, as if it were something worth eating.

She pulled her knees back to her chest, glaring at the wall across from her, feeling nothing but anger clawing at her insides.

She leaned her head back against the cold, rough wall of her cell, eyes half-lidded as she watched Egg devour the food like it was a feast. His thin fingers scraped at the last bits, collecting every crumb from the tray. She wondered, not for the first time, how he could still find joy in this place. This pit of cruelty, where people were thrown away like garbage, left to rot from the inside out. The scientists didn’t care. The guards didn’t care. No one cared. Yet here he was, thanking them for scraps like it meant something.

It didn’t make sense to her, but then again, nothing about him made sense.

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. The air in the cell was thick and sour with the scent of decay—her own body betraying her, just like his. Every day, the virus crept a little further into her, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she would end up like the others. Bald. Rotted. Forgotten.

“Sir, I’ve been hearing things,” she had said, standing stiffly in front of her commanding officer’s desk, the cold metal of her dog tags brushing against her chest as she shifted her weight. Her voice had been careful, measured, though she could feel the unease creeping under her skin.

“Things?” he’d drawled, not even looking up from the reports in front of him. He was a big man, intimidating, with cold, flat eyes that never softened for anyone. The room had smelled of cigar smoke and sweat, suffocating in its familiarity.

“About the virus. The researchers—they’re talking about using humans now. They said they needed criminals for the tests. But these people—” she hesitated, trying to find the words, “they aren’t volunteers. They’re just taking them.”

He hadn’t flinched. Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his face. Instead, his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk as he finally looked up at her. “And? They’re criminals. Who gives a damn what happens to them?”

She had stared at him, a knot of anger forming in her chest. “They’re still people, sir. They deserve—”

“They deserve nothing.” He had cut her off sharply, his eyes narrowing, his voice growing harder, more dangerous. “They’re trash. Nothing more. And if they die, then they die.” He laughed then, a hollow, humorless sound that made her stomach turn. “Good riddance.”

Her hands had curled into fists at her sides. “We should tell people, warn them. They could protect themselves, take precautions. It’s not right to keep this from them.” The words had left her mouth before she could stop them.

He had stood up so quickly the chair behind him scraped against the floor, his towering presence looming over her. The air had shifted, heavy with tension, with that familiar threat. And then—before she had even registered what was happening—his hand cracked across her face, the sting of it snapping her head to the side. Her skin burned where he hit her, but it was the coldness in his eyes that hurt more.

“You’re getting too comfortable, soldier,” he growled, stepping closer, so close she could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the heat of his body pressing into hers. She had swallowed hard, trying to push down the panic rising in her throat. “You speak when spoken to. Nothing more. Do you understand?”

Her jaw clenched, but she had nodded, the sting of his slap pulsing on her cheek. He gripped her chin then, forcing her to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing the reddened skin he’d just struck. She had wanted to jerk away, to spit in his face, but she knew better. She’d learned better.

“There’s a good girl,” he cooed, his tone sickeningly soft as his hand moved down to caress her cheek, his thumb pressing too hard against her skin. Her stomach turned in disgust, but she stood rigid, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise. His face had been so close to hers, the distance between them shrinking until she could feel his breath on her lips. “You should know your place by now. I don’t need you thinking for yourself.”

Her skin had crawled at his touch, her heart hammering in her chest as she forced herself to stay still, to not flinch. His fingers were rough, calloused, every brush against her face a reminder of how powerless she was in that moment.

She had hated him. Hated every second of it, hated the way he looked at her, like she was nothing but a tool to be used, a piece of meat. And she had hated herself more for not pulling away, for not fighting harder.

God, I should have killed him there.

A scrape of metal on concrete pulled her back. Egg had pushed the empty trays toward the bars, wiping his hands on his tattered pants. He sat back against the wall of his cell, his legs folded beneath him, a small smile tugging at his lips. His feet, one of them wrapped in old bandages, were still raw and rotting, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Thank you for the food,” he said again softly, more to himself than to her. His voice always held that strange, gentle tone. It was like he lived in a different world from her—a world where hope still existed.

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The bile rose in her throat just thinking about it. There was no hope here. Only survival. And even that was slipping away.

The silence hung between them, broken only by the faint dripping of water somewhere deep within the prison. She could feel Egg’s eyes on her, could sense his need to say something, but she wasn’t in the mood to hear it. Not today.

She opened her eyes again, staring through the bars at Egg. His pale face was turned toward her, his wide eyes still full of that same, infuriating innocence.

“Do you think…” he began, his voice soft and hesitant, “do you think today could be the day?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What day?”

“The day they let us out,” he said, almost hopefully. “Maybe… maybe they’ll find my family. Maybe they’ll come for me.”

She stared at him, her lips pressed into a hard line. He’d said it before—many times. It was always the same fantasy. That somehow, someone would find him. That his wife and children would come through those doors and save him from this nightmare. It made her sick to hear it.

“They’re not coming,” she said flatly, her voice sharp enough to cut through his delusion.

Egg blinked, his smile faltering for a moment, but only for a moment. He recovered quickly, nodding as if he hadn’t heard her. “I know,” he whispered, but there was a distant look in his eyes, like he didn’t believe it. “But maybe…”

Maybe.

She hated that word.

It was late, well past midnight, the lights in the barracks casting long shadows over the cold concrete floors. She had stayed back to finish some paperwork, her shoulders stiff from hours of tension, her eyes burning from the fluorescent lights overhead. The others had left hours ago, their laughter and chatter fading as the door clicked shut behind them. She had been alone for what felt like hours.

Then came the sound of footsteps behind her, slow and deliberate. She knew those footsteps—sharp, heavy boots that echoed down the hall.

Her fingers froze on the papers as she stiffened, already dreading the encounter. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was. His presence was always a weight, always something that pressed down on her.

“You’re still here?” His voice slithered out, the tone too casual, too familiar.

She forced herself to keep writing, focusing on the feel of the pen in her hand. “Finishing the report, sir.”

He moved closer, and she could feel his eyes on her back, like a predator watching its prey. “You work too hard,” he said, a mock concern dripping from his words.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, but she didn’t turn. “Just doing my job.”

“You’re a good soldier, Y/N.” His voice was closer now, just behind her, and then she felt it—his hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “But you should know when to relax.”

She went stiff, her breath catching in her throat as his fingers dug into her skin, the pressure uncomfortably tight. She wanted to shrug him off, to pull away, but she stayed still, forcing herself to breathe evenly.

“Sir, I’d appreciate it if you—”

The slap came without warning, sharp and brutal, the sting of it blooming across her cheek as her head snapped to the side. The chair wobbled beneath her, and she barely caught herself before falling.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N,” he snarled, the warmth draining from his voice in an instant, replaced with cold anger.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse loud in her ears as she brought a hand to her face, feeling the heat of the slap still radiating from her cheek. She tried to push away from the desk, but he was on her in seconds, his fingers gripping her jaw with bruising force.

“Look at me,” he hissed, pulling her face up so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. The cruelty there made her stomach turn. “You think you’re special? You think you’re above this?”

“Sir, don’t—”

His grip tightened, and her words died in her throat as he leaned in closer, so close she could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the heat of it against her skin. “You’re just a tool, Lieutenant. Just another fucking soldier. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Her stomach twisted as he dragged his fingers down from her face, trailing them along her neck, his breath hot and sour as he pressed closer. She pushed at him, but his body was a wall, unyielding.

“No one’s going to save you,” he whispered, his voice sickeningly soft. “Not out here.”

His hand moved lower, fingers slipping beneath the edge of her uniform, and panic surged through her chest. She shoved harder, desperate, but his hand wrapped around her wrist, pinning it to the desk with a force that made her cry out.

“You’re my bitch,” he whispered.

The pressure, the smell, the hands that wouldn’t stop moving—it was suffocating. Her world shrunk to the feel of him against her, the cruel grip on her wrist, and the terror that choked her.

And then—

She woke up with a sharp intake of breath, her body drenched in sweat, heart pounding like she’d just run miles. Her chest heaved as she blinked rapidly, trying to push the nightmare away, but the phantom touch of his hands lingered, the sound of his voice still echoing in her ears.

For a moment, she just lay there, staring at the filthy ceiling of her cell, trying to pull herself back to reality. It was just a dream. Just a dream. But it had never felt like a dream—it was a memory, twisted, haunting her over and over again.

She turned her head, and through the dim light, she saw Egg sitting up, his legs crossed as he watched her with that same innocent concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his wide eyes blinking at her in the dark.

She clenched her jaw, pushing herself up to sit, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her fingers still trembled as she raked them through her hair, her breath shaky.

“Shut the fuck up, Egg,” she snapped, not bothering to look at him. The last thing she needed was him asking questions.

But Egg, as always, just laughed softly, the sound too light, too out of place. “You’re so mean,” he said, his tone teasing but without any malice. He seemed oblivious to her anger, to the frustration simmering beneath her skin.

She didn’t respond, just kept rubbing her face, trying to shake off the nightmare.

“I miss my wife,” Egg said suddenly, his voice wistful, like he was sharing a precious secret. “She’s so beautiful, you know? And my three kids—they’re waiting for me. We live in a small house, but it’s cozy. We’ve got a dog too. You’d like him. He's real sweet.”

She blinked, slowly lowering her hands to her lap as she stared at him. He was smiling again, that same soft, distant look in his eyes as he raised three fingers toward her. “Three kids,” he repeated, like he was proud of it.

She frowned, unsure how to react. Part of her believed him—he spoke with such conviction, like he really did have a family waiting for him on the outside. A wife. Kids. A dog. A cozy little house.

But how could someone like him have all that? How could someone in this rotting hellhole dream of such things?

“What about you?” he asked, looking at her expectantly. “Do you have anyone waiting for you?”

She clenched her jaw, her body tensing again. Her life outside? What fucking life? She didn’t owe him that. She didn’t owe anyone anything.

When she didn’t respond, Egg’s brows furrowed slightly, his confusion evident. “You don’t have anyone?” he asked, as if that idea was impossible to him.

“Keep your head up your own ass, Egg,” she spat, turning away from him and lying back down, staring at the wall. She didn’t need this shit. Not from him.

Egg just chuckled, unbothered. “You’re so mean,” he whispered again, the fondness in his voice unsettling in its innocence.

She closed her eyes, trying to shut out his words, trying to pull herself back into sleep. But the memory of the dream clung to her, as did his quiet, persistent voice.

When she woke, it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

Her eyes fluttered open, but the world around her was hazy, distorted, as if she were underwater, drowning in a nightmare that refused to end. The light above her flickered一too bright, then too dim-casting eerie shadows across the room, dancing over figures she couldn't quite make out.

She tried to move, but nothing happened. Her arms were pinned, her legs too. A sudden wave of terror washed over her as the realization sank in-she was tied down. Strapped to a bed. Panic surged in her chest, her heart thudding painfully in her ribs. Her muscles strained, burning with effort, but it was useless. She couldn't move.

Her throat felt tight, like something was pressing down on it, and when she tried to scream, her mouth wouldn't cooperate. No sound came out. Not even a whimper. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't scream.

Her vision was blurry, but she could see the outlines of figures moving around her. They wore masks, their faces obscured, just shadows of men and women- scientists. She could hear their voices, muffled and distant, like she was underwater, the words coming and going in waves.

"Increase the dosage."

"Prep the subject."

"It vitals are spiking–"

A hand brushed over her arm, cold and clinical, and she shuddered inwardly, her skin crawling beneath the touch. She could feel the sharp pinch of something digging into her, like metal, slicing into her skin. Pain flared through her body, white-hot and unbearable. Her nerves Screamed, but her voice refused to come. She was trapped in her own body, her own skin, a prisoner in this nightmare.

What are they doing to me?

The thought was frantic, wild, desperate, but there was no escape. Every inch of her burned-her arms, her legs, her chest, her head. It was like her flesh was on fire, melting, tearing apart from the inside out. The sensation was unbearable. She wanted to thrash, to rip herself free, to claw at her skin until she could feel something else, anything else-but she couldn't.

They were talking, their words drifting in and out, but they might as well have been speaking another language. She couldn't focus on anything except the pain, the overwhelming, unrelenting pain.

A needle slid into her skin, and for a moment, everything went white. Her mind screamed, her body convulsing, and the world blurred around her, warping into something unreal, like a fever dream. She wanted to rip herself apart, wanted t scream, to beg them to stop, but her mouth wouldn't move.

She was suffocating. Her body was betraying her. The straps holding her down dug into her flesh, the pain mixing with the agony coursing through her veins. It felt like her skin was being torn off, layer by layer, exposed and raw, the air itself an assault on her senses. She could feel the sharp edges of instruments scraping against her bones, prying her open.

God, please stop! she screamed in her mind, her thoughts a frantic, wild plea. Please stop, someone, make it stop!

Her eyes darted frantically, trying to find anything to focus on, something that wasn't the excruciating agony tearing her apart. But all she saw were the masked faces, the glint of metal tools, the flashing lights above her. The lights flickered, fading in and out, casting long shadows that twisted into grotesque shapes on the walls.

Time lost all meaning. Minutes bled into hours, hours into an eternity of pain. She couldn't remember a time before the burning, before the tearing, before the relentless torture. The world outside of her agony didn't exist anymore.

They were cutting her apart, but nothing was bleeding. She could feel it-feel them pulling at her skin, at her bones, but she was still whole. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. Her mind was unraveling, and she wanted to scream, wanted to claw at her own head to make it stop, make it all stop.

She could see their eyes through the masks一cold, dispassionate, like she was nothing more than a lab rat, just another experiment. They didn't care. They didn't care that she was in agony, that every part of her was screaming, begging for mercy.

And then-

The needle.

It swept over her, like a wave crashing down, pulling her under. Everything went silent. The pain was still there, but it was distant now, far away, like it belonged to Someone else. Her eyelids fluttered shut, the world around her fading into darkness.

And then there was nothing.

No sound. No light. No pain.

Just oblivion.

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[ticklygiggles]

A snowman, a crow and a kitten | Sylus, Zayne x fem!reader [n$fw]

Commissioned by @otomiyaa

A/N: BABYYYY thank you so much for your kind suppoooort 💕❤️💖 I'm sorry it took me ages to finish dkfndknff I decided to write this in first person to go along with the game, I hope you liiiike it. I personally don't know how to feel about it dkdndkdb anyways thank you so much love 💕 I hope you enjoy this! 💞💓💖

Summary: You're simply their little toy.

Words: 3k+

His hands on my body were like a shower of sparks, each one exploding on my skin in a flash of pleasure. I felt like I was floating in a sea of sensations, without control, without direction, just going with the flow. His fingers were everywhere, caressing my skin like feathers, light, yet persuasive. My mind would cloud, my breathing would quicken, and my body would surrender, giving in to the sensations. 

Within a second his hands were squeezing my hips, his thumbs digging into my bones, making me arch my back and gasp between raucous laughs. The next second, his fingers found the warmth under my arms and wiggled them playfully against the very center of my armpits, making me cry out with joy, tears streaming down my face. 

How long had he been tickling me? A few minutes? Hours? Days? I didn't know and I didn't care, because I was addicted to that feeling of pleasure that was building up between my legs, making me moan loudly and freely. 

"Will it be your laughter or your moans that will make the neighbors complain about the noise?” I could barely hear his delicious, deep voice over the incessant noise escaping from between my lips. A noise somewhere between a laugh, a gasp, a moan, and a sob. Something that didn't sound like me at all. 

My hands desperately clung to his wrists, trying to pull away his hands that slowly immersed me in a whirlwind of pleasure and sensations that made my brain short-circuit.

“Do you want me to stop?" Zayne asked, his body on top of mine, keeping me pinned against the couch, his lips caressing my ear, making me shiver and causing my skin to prickle. My mind was screaming 'yes! I want you to stop! I can't stand it another second', but my head shook from side to side vigorously, even though my chest was already hurting from the lack of oxygen and the muscles of my stomach and sides were burning. 

His soft laugh made me shiver. "Good girl." Zayne kissed my earlobe before pulling back, as if to admire the state I was in. I felt even more heat rising to my cheeks from my neck. I knew I didn't look at all attractive right now. I was probably as red as a cherry, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I also felt a trickle of saliva escaping from my huge forced smile and falling down my chin. Not charming at all, and yet, Zayne stared at me as a predator would look at prey. His green eyes darkened with lust, his tongue licking his lips and his cheeks flushed. 

Who would have thought that tickling me would cause such a turn on in Zayne? I could feel his hard cock against my clothed pussy and I moaned, feeling like I was going crazy. 

“Z-Zayne, please!” I sobbed between laughs. "P-Please!”

“Hmm? What do you want, little tickle toy?” I sobbed out a few more words with difficulty, for my laughter would not cease. “I cannot hear you. Would you stop laughing?” 

“I c-cahan't, I-"

“Ah, so you were busy.” 

My laugh caught in my throat. Zayne and I both quickly looked towards the door and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I saw who was entering my house. 

“S-Sylus?! W-What are you doing-” 

“I sent Mephisto to check on you, but you didn't open the window. I see why now.”

Sylus chuckled, looking at me, then at Zayne. His eyes moving to the hands under my arms and the position Zayne and I were in. I froze, not knowing what to do. Zayne looked at my guest with a raised eyebrow and seemed confused as well. I wanted the earth to swallow me up. 

“A little crow came to say hello, it seems.” Zayne's voice was too calm, a chill ran down my spine. 

Sylus smirked. “I came to check on my kitten, I thought she was going to be bored, but I see she's in good company.” 

“Yes. You can leave now.” 

“I don't wanna,” Sylus said, finally, finally, closing the door behind him. “Besides, you're doing it all wrong.” 

“Excuse me?” 

My heart raced as I watched Sylus approach us. My hands that were clinging to Zayne's shoulders were suddenly grabbed tightly and placed high above my head. I squealed and arched my back, my breath hitching in my throat as I looked up at Sylus. He looked at me with a mischievous smile and eyes shining with mischief. 

“She likes being pinned down,” Sylus explained, as if I wasn't there between the two. “She loves having no escape from her tickles, don't you, kitten?” My only response was a whimper and Sylus took it as a yes, of course. “Tell you what, Zayne. Why don't I stay up here for a while.” Zayne arched an eyebrow. “And you can do whatever you want down there.” 

Sylus jerked his chin towards my legs and Zayne looked down, his eyes widening for a second before his fingers touched my still covered pussy. I moaned, bucking my hips up. 

“You're leaking,” Zayne mumbled and I gasped, looking at the tips of his fingers. Zayne looked between my legs for a moment and then he looked up at Sylus. “Fine.” 

My eyes widened as Sylus let out a deep chuckle. “We'll take turns, then.”

In an instant, their hands were on me. I tensed thinking they were going to tickle me, but to my horror, Zayne hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and underwear and pulled them down. I squealed, bringing my legs together to hide my pussy, but Zayne grabbed my knees and easily spread my legs apart, completely exposing me to him. 

Meanwhile Sylus grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it off, exposing my breasts. Unlike my shorts and panties, the shirt only reached my elbows and a heavy gasp escaped my mouth when I felt Sylus sitting on my arms. My eyes moved from Zayne to Sylus and back again. 

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and I was only able to say something when Zayne suddenly lowered his head between my legs. I moaned and shivered as I felt Zayne's warm lips on the inside of my left thigh, he trailed kisses from my knee to my groin and my breath caught in my throat when I felt his lips pressing on my pussy.

I moaned Zayne's name, arching my back a little and closing my eyes. Zayne kissed me again and I shivered in pleasure once more and moaned softly. His next kiss was directly on my clit, he had separated my lips to discover that little spot and as he pressed his mouth against it, I felt like I was going to cum just like that. His tongue played with my clit for a second, before it slid all over my pussy, tasting my juices before returning to my clit. 

“Oh, Zayne!” I cried, moaning and writhing as his tongue circled my hard clit. My nipples hardened and my skin covered in goosebumps. His tongue licked, fluttered and pressed against my clit mercilessly, making me let out loud sounds of pleasure. “I'm g-going to cum! Nghh!” He sucked on it, holding my legs that rested over his shoulders to keep me in place. 

It felt so good, my eyes crossed as I felt that tingle of my upcoming orgasm, my legs shook, but I had forgotten about Sylus… until I felt his fingers in my armpits. 

A loud laugh bubbled out of me, I pulled at my arms desperately, trying to get them out from under Sylus, but it was impossible. His agile and light fingers buried themselves in my armpits, wiggling, poking, squeezing, prodding- just every single thing he knew would make me laugh in hysterics. 

“Sylus!” I squealed, feeling the tingles of my climax fading away. “S-Stohohop! PLEHEHEASE!” 

“Oh c'mon, don't act as if you are not enjoying yourself, sweetie.” I shook my head, but groans began to filter through my laughter and my cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. “You're such a weird little miss,” he chuckled. “Getting off by getting tickled? That is certainly something you don't hear all the time.”

I shook my head again, trying to grit my teeth to stop my laughter, but then Sylus increased the speed of his tickling and I could only howl in hysterics. When I thought I would go crazy from the tickling in my armpits, suddenly Sylus' fingers moved to my nipples and I moaned as he squeezed and flicked them. My hips circled and I grind harder against Zayne's mouth; he barely flinched while I was being tickled, I just felt his fingers digging a little deeper into my thighs, trying to keep me still. 

“Y-Yes! F-Fuck yes! F-Faster, Zayne, please. Fa- ahahaha!” Again the stupid tickling under my arms. I groaned in frustration, but then started laughing out loud. “Sylus, pl-please! DOHOHON'T!” 

“Look how much you're grinding against Zayne,” Sylus purred. “You are such a weird one.”

I hated that his teasing, although humiliating, made me feel even hornier; my moans getting deeper and louder, mingling with my hysterical laughter and the squeals that escaped my mouth. I felt hot all over my body. The fingers digging under my arms and into my thighs; Sylus teasing my nipples, Zayne eating me out- it all just felt too much. 

Soon my legs started to shake as Sylus’s fingers did a weird dance, first tickling my armpits and then teasing my nipples, back and forth, back and forth. Zayne on the other hand, pushed two fingers inside me, hooking them up and touching that tender spot within me while his tongue circled faster and harder around my clit. The tingling came back, my breath became erratic, my moans desperate and as my eyes rolled back into my skull, I finally reached that wonderful peak, letting myself fall from the edge into a sea of pleasure that made my whole body tremble like crazy. 

Tingly sparks washed over me and I even forgot to think, to breathe, my mind went blank and it seemed like I had been suspended in a subspace of satisfaction… until my body started to come back to his senses and the sensations immediately overwhelmed me, making me shriek, scream in desperation. 

Sylus was still very busy tickling me under my arms while Zayne kept using his tongue on my pussy while his fingers pressed and rubbed that delicate spot inside me. I was going crazy, in my head it seemed like I could hear a noise like static, I couldn't think of anything else but what those two were doing to me. My skin felt a little uncomfortable, wet with a light layer of sweat, sticking to the couch. I felt exhausted, I couldn't defend myself... and I didn't want to. 

“Zayne.” I could barely hear Sylus's voice over my screams and hysterical laughter and some pleas that made no sense, neither to them nor to me. 

“Hmm?” 

“Are you having fun there? She already cum, so I think it's my turn.”

Zayne finally stopped, leaving my pussy pulsing and clenching. “You said you wanted her breasts.” 

“And I also said we would share.” Sylus moved his hands down to my ribs and I arched my back, begging for him to stop, but he didn't hear me, or rather, he pretended not to hear me. “Stop acting like a spoiled child, Zayne, and move your ass up here.”

The tickling finally stopped and I went limp against the couch. My body was twitching, my pussy clenching, my armpits and ribs titillating with the residual tickles. I groaned, letting out a sigh when Sylus let go of my arms, but my body didn't move at all. Was I that tired? No, I just... didn't want them to stop yet. I opened my eyes, my vision blurred by tears, and looked at them both and brows furrowed in disappointment

Sylus laughed, his voice echoing through my small apartment. "Why are you making that face? Weren't you asking us to stop, kitten?” Sylus positioned himself between my legs, making me gasp. “Now you want to continue? You're a very indecisive little lady, aren't you?" His huge hands caressed my thighs, grabbing my leg behind my knee and putting it over his shoulder. He was smirking down at me, raising an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. “So?” 

I swallowed hard and tensed when I felt Zayne sitting on my arms. I whimpered, looking at them both again. 

“Should we stop…”

“... Or continue?” 

I whined, my body bouncing. “J-Just d-do i-iiit! I d-don’t- ack! Ahahahaha!” 

I was surprised at how different the tickling was from both of them. Sylus was a bit rougher, not to the point of pain, but enough to make my sensitive skin turn red within seconds. He liked to dig his fingers in my skin, teasing my muscles and making me jump. Zayne, on the other hand, was a little gentler, his fingers fluttering against my armpits. Drawing random shapes with his delicate fingertips, scratching my skin, poking me, scribbling– just any touch that made my skin cover in goosebumps as I laughed and laughed and laughed. 

I jumped with a small scream when I felt Sylus grab my hips and I begged between giggles that he wouldn't tickle me there, but he didn't do it, instead, he grabbed me firmly and my eyes widened as I felt his dick entering me, fast and hard. 

“Sylus!” I gasped, lifting my head to see that he had just pulled his dick out, his pants still on.

“You'll hurt her.” I heard Zayne said, his hands stopping. 

“I won't,” Sylus answered with a growl; his eyes fluttering closer as he got used to my pussy… and I tried to get used to his huge cock. 

He filled me so nicely. His warmth made me shudder, his tip immediately hitting that sweet spot, making me cross my eyes in ecstasy. Sylus chuckled after just a few seconds and when I looked at him, he was smirking down at me, making me moan and jerk my hips slightly. 

“Do you want me to move, kitten?” 

I nodded desperately, opening my mouth and choking on my saliva. Sylus chuckled lowly, and I felt his cock moving out of me before he thrust hard into me, our bodies making a 'slap!' sound that echoed throughout the house. I gasped, arching my back and throwing my head back. He rammed into me again and I moaned loudly as he began to pick up speed, thrusting his cock into me again and again until my moans turned into screams of pleasure. 

“F-Faster! Pl-Plea- Faster!” 

I gasped as I felt Zayne's cold hand grip my jaw and twist my head to the side. My eyes widened as I saw his massive erection milliliters away from my face. 

“Be a good girl and open your pretty mouth.” 

I whimpered, but I obediently did what I was told. I opened my mouth wide and salivated at the slight salty taste of Zayne's precum. He let me get used to his length, first inserting the tip, my tongue licking up all the precum, making him furrow his brow and breathe raggedly. He then pushed himself deeper and deeper into my throat; I was so used to having him inside me that I no longer felt nauseous from having him all the way in. Zayne threw his head back, exhaling and shuddering. I tightened my throat and he growled, pushing his hips back before he rammed into my throat. 

Tears were streaming down my face as they both used me however they wanted and my arousal continued to grow as I felt them filling my pussy and mouth. Sylus moaned deeply, without shame. He liked to show how good I made him feel and he said it without thinking: 

“Ah! What a g-good girl, so t-tight for me. You really like my cock, kitten? Y-You're clenching me so nicely. Ngh!” 

Zayne was quieter. He bit his bottom lip and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth to keep from making any noise, But as my throat tightened around his cock and one of my shaking hands began to play with his balls, Zayne had no choice but to moan loudly, throwing his head back. 

I felt dizzy. I could barely breathe with Zayne in my throat, and the pleasure was driving me crazy. Sylus had started playing with my clit as he kept going in and out of me and my moans and whimpers caused vibrations against Zayne's dick that made him moan more. 

I was losing it. I couldn't focus my thoughts on anything but these two men touching me and making me feel so good. As I felt that delicious tingle building inside me, I was almost sure I would pass out before I came, but I didn't. My body trembled and convulsed as currents of pleasure washed over me. I came like I had never come before, my skin covered in goosebumps from head to toe and I sobbed and cried and moaned and whimpered as Sylus milked my orgasm until his movements started to overstimulate me. It tickled, but it also felt overwhelming. 

My jaw and the corners of my mouth hurt. My throat was starting to burn, but soon, with just a couple of thrusts from Zayne, he came inside my mouth. I tried to swallow as much of his load as I could, but it still leaked out of the corners of my mouth. Zayne shivered and breathed rapidly as he recovered from his climax. I coughed as he pulled his cock out of my throat and moaned Sylus' name as I begged:

“S-Stop! Angh! I j-just c-came s-stop, please!” I sobbed, but Sylus didn't listen to me, he grabbed my hips and fucked me harder and faster until I felt his warm seed filling me. I shuddered as he trembled in pleasure, thrusting against me a few more times to ride his orgasm. 

I sighed tiredly, relaxing my shivering, twitchy body into the couch as my breaths echoed off the walls of my house. I closed my eyes, feeling like I was floating and almost falling asleep until I felt Sylus pulling his cock out of my pussy. I moaned, my legs shaking, I opened my eyes heavy from sleep and my heart skipped a beat when I saw that Zayne was now between my legs, his dick so hard as if he hadn't come in my mouth just moments ago.

“W-What?” 

“It's my turn,” he said and before I could say anything else, he pushed himself inside me and I sobbed with pleasure before bursting into laughter as mischievous fingers began tickling my ribs. 

The sensation was so intense that I felt like the world was spinning around me. 

“What's the matter, kitten? I thought you wanted to play. Let's keep playing, shall we?” 

I still had a long night ahead of me, and my insides churned with excitement, my pussy clenching around Zayne, so eager to feel the pleasure these two men had in store for me; even if it meant passing out halfway there, but I was sure that these two were not going to allow it, after all, they only wanted my pleasure and hear my pretty voice calling their names through my sweet moans. 

[bitterbutblue]

our times

turns out, you're the fortune i want to keep most ☆ multi x reader

~ this is a multi x reader!! hatssun was talking about writing angst and i really said omg my turn! sorry hatssun ur idea was so good and it works so well w yukong and feixiao... ill credit u so hard bro i swear. WVERYONE BE PREPARED FOR WHEN THINK FAST DROPS🙏🙏🙏

UMM ALSO THE FEIXIAO ONE IS SOLONG FOR NO REASON LOTS OF DIALOGUE SORRYYYYY

characters: feixiao, yukong, ruan mei

 song: 小幸運 - Hebe Tian ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

i was too busy chasing shooting stars in the sky ☆ feixiao

The day Saran ran away, something in you ran with her. The day Saran ran away, you didn't know if you would ever see her face break into a smile again, or if you would see her hanging the next day. The trace of her slowly faded with time, but even when you finally had the guts to bolt for it she was still the only thing on your mind. That day, you didn't mind if you died running, because it would've been better than staying there but alive. You didn't mind if you died running, because you died with her on your mind.

God knows how many decades had passed since the Luofu took you in. You only count days in how much your heart ached for her. Eventually it dulls down, it goes from a sharp thud to a muted nudge every time you see a dash of silver hair in the crowd or a sharp but soft smile on Jing Yuan's lips. You've heard of how far she had gotten, and you wished it didn't hurt so much to hear about it. You forced yourself to forget about her, because you couldn't keep living every day haunted by her. You were finally able to live your days how you wanted to, even if it meant without her by your side.

"Yukong, can you run these by the general for me?"

You were absentmindedly sitting at your desk, filling in whatever forms the general had sent to you about all the legality things they had to sort out for the Wardance. You spin your pen, signing your name down and ticking the last of the boxes. You huffed at the lack of response from the woman who should be sitting across from you.

"Yukong?"

"She's not here."

You look up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, and the world decides to take a break for a moment. In that small fraction of a second you feel yourself going back in time for decades until you are standing face to face with the young foxian, bruised and battered with an undying flame in her eyes. She is now much taller, her face pale but not the sickly kind that she harboured before. Her eyebags faded, hair flowing as if it had been just washed- a sight you never saw before in those camps.

She looked healthy, she had everything she wanted.

So why did she look like she was about to break down in front of you?

It wasn't fair.

"Saran?"

She only nods, standing with her arms by her side like a fool who doesn't know how to speak. She clears her throat, moving to cross her arms so she looked less awkward standing in front of you.

She wears clean clothes, she smells of petals.

Her scent of blood long faded, but you feel the pain behind her stance.

"How have you been?" Is all she asks as she eyes your desk warily, as if not knowing how to approach the conversation.

"Well. You?"

"Good enough."

Your old banter had long faded now, your previous ability to make each other laugh despite knowing the imminent death that looms over you two every day.

"Neergul died."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

It's like talking to a wall, or to just a mirrored version of yourself with how either of you refuse to look at each other.

"I never knew if you died or not until I came here."

Your shaky voice finally cuts the tension that has been simmering for far too long. She swallows, looking up and you know she is holding back tears because she has only ever looked up when the night sky is open and she can see the stars that granted her hope.

"I found out you became general. I was happy for you."

She says nothing.

"Why didn't you reach out?"

The edge to your voice has her breath knocked out of her lungs for a second as she tries to formulate an answer. She tries to weave incoherent thoughts and jumbles of emotions into a sentence and it's much harder to be done than she realised.

"I couldn't."

Of course she couldn't. Why would she admit to you how much of a coward she was? Knowing she had abandoned you after kissing you goodnight that evening.

"Why?"

But you want answers. It's not every day your presumed dead lover comes back to see you after years and years of crying yourself to sleep and hoping that in another future you could be in her arms without having to fear for your life.

"I was scared."

The general cannot be scared, or show any signs of fear in any situation- especially emotional situations where they need to stay calm so that people can feel secure around her but right now it all falls apart.

"Of who?"

"You."

"Why?"

You really did not like to raise your voice but you couldn't help it- she infuriates you. From the moment she flooded your heart you realised why love and hate go hand in hand because you hate that you love her.

"Why now?"

"I don't know."

Is all she manages to stutter out after an incredulous minute of silence and you just sigh.

"Why didn't you come find me?"

Her question has you going speechless now.

You were a hypocrite.

"I don't know."

She just nods with an unreadable expression on her face.

"I don't regret what I did that night."

You squeeze your now-fisted hand tight, taking a deep breath in to try to not only steady your voice but calm your racing heart that threatens to beat so hard it shatters in your chest.

"But why? Why make me love you for decades if you never planned to return?"

"I wanted to return. I always did."

Her words come out much more rushed than she intended it to come out. You feel your world shatter in that moment as you speak your next words.

"You never moved on?"

She steps closer.

"I dreamt about you every night. Under the sea of the shooting stars."

You shake your head, quickly wiping away at your own tears and she has to take a sharp breath in so her tears don't fall.

"Don't say that." You whisper "We can't. Please."

She looks at you, more intensely than ever as her voice quivers.

"Why?"

You shake your head.

"It'll only hold us back."

You still adorn matching scars from the torture you both had gone through in those camps. You love her, but she also left you.

"We can't." Is all you say.

She turns around and you want to pull her into your arms, you want her to be able to look at you but from that moment on, the look on her face as you showed her your soulmate would be the face you see every night you close your eyes.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

somewhere in the sky i could not see, was you ☆ yukong

The evening Caiyi died in her arms, Yukong vowed to never see the skies again. That was the same evening you went missing, the same evening she breaks down because how can she lose two of what she loved most in her life within the blink of an eye? The reason for her to wake up every morning, the reason she smiled even through the roughest of the days- now faded into nothing but memory and a distant bitter taste in her mouth.

You were not presumed dead, only missing. The false sense of hope had Yukong staying at her desk for hours every day, going through files and files, records upon records to try and maybe find some trace of you somewhere but after years of searching she finally gave up. She had to care for Qingni for Caiyi, she had to keep loving you because if she doesn't then she feels like she's lost herself.

It was the day Qingni flew to the skies when she finally looked up once more. She looks to the planes to see her daughter flying the same path that doomed her from wanting to live but the sky was the reason she had the two people who made life worth living. It was that day a plane crashed and Yukong felt the familiar, sickening feeling from decades ago as she runs to the sight. She's panicked, flustered, heart racing and feeling like throwing up as she pushes past crowds amongst crowds-

She doesn't know if she should scream or sigh in relief when they pull the lifeless-looking figure out of the starskiff. The model was old, the same she used in the war where she lost....

You. The figure they pulled out was you and she feels like she's going to be sick. She runs up to them, asking if you're okay and the medics are telling her to back off but she needs to know. She puts her head down, ear against your chest and almost sobs when she hears your heart thud weakly. It's so soft she really could've missed it but she hears it.

"Oh baby..."

She whispers as she cradles your head on her lap.

She sits by your side in the hospital until you wake up. She doesn't move, doesn't eat or drink or anything unless Qingni drags her to the bathroom or to the cafeteria. She holds your hand weakly, squeezing it every once in a while to see if you'd respond.

A cough jolts her awake and she quickly scans the dark, dimly lit room to find you- blinking weakly as you scan the room wearily.

"Oh, oh my god."

She quickly gets off her chair, rushing by your side.

"Are you okay? How are you feeling? Nurse-"

"Yukong."

She never thought she'd hear her name fall from your lips, to hear her name mumbled out so softly and hoarsely again.

"I'm here, I'm right here."

You don't say anything as you close your eyes, taking in a deep but pained breath as you close your eyes. She can feel her hands go cold, trembling violently as she tries to calm herself down. Her fingertips feel like they've been dipped in ice water and her throat feels like its closing up violently.

"You're here."

Yukong couldn't help the sob that escapes her lips at your words.

"Yes, yes baby. I'm right here."

The tears are already falling before she can even bother trying to control them, and she can already feel herself slipping away when you smile softly at her because she had always been a fool for you. She put the whole world down for you and she would lift it up for you if you needed it to be lifted again.

"I- I came back."

"You did, you did baby, you're back." She whispers, finally moving to take your hand in hers. You feel so much smaller, your hand much rougher than it used to be and when she finally takes in how scarred you are she feels like breaking down.

"Wanted to see you..." you whisper weakly, voice shaking as you look directly into her eyes.

Your eyes were nothing like the eyes she used to look at every night before she drifted off to sleep. Now they were hollow, every trace of who you once were has faded into the past that only resides through her dreams.

You were back, but you'd never really be back.

She just squeezes your hand gently as she tells herself it's okay, telling herself that you're physically here and you were somehow still alive and that's all she's been praying for since the day you fell.

So why does it hurt so much?

If all she's ever wanted was to have you back in her arms, why does it hurt so much to have you back now? Looking at her with a smile that no longer meets your eyes and a sense of coldness washing over her like a suffocating blanket every time she sees you.

She still loves you.

She still loves you and it hurts that her lover has died, reincarnated into a broken version of who she once loved. But she doesn't care. She will learn to live with the cold if it means being able to hold you once more. She would spend as long as she needs, puzzling every piece of you back together until you are able to smile at her without the history of all that happened haunting your every waking move.

She vowed, from that moment on, she'd start looking at the sky again because the sky brought you back. Every evening she stares up at the moon, watching it dim the lights to another day, and whisper her gratefulness to have her lover back. Every evening, she brings you out to look at the moon, the same moon you looked at during the two decades apart where the only thing you had together was the moon draped in the sky that she was too scared to look at.

"I love you."

You just lean your head against her chest.

You just listen to her heartbeat, and with each thud the cracks in your body begin to renew themselves- you would never be who you were, but you would always love her.

"I love you too."

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every scene was you ☆ ruan mei

The day she left, she vanished. No note, no text, nothing. Ruan Mei had become nothing but a shadow on earth when she decided to leave your house and you questioned if it was even worth searching for her at that point.

She had always been obsessed with aeonhood, aeons, power- whatever. You knew she was. Yet you still loved her for it, and she always promised you that one day you two would be able to love each other for eternity, for as long as you wanted to and until time itself faded into nothing but what was a mere idea of the past. She held you close that evening when she promised you, your head resting on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you.

A week later, she vanishes.

Lab empty, notes packed away, it was like as if your house had gone back in time to before you met her with how empty it all was. You called her number, texted her phone, contacted everyone she knew which was not a lot but you still tried because you loved her.

The day she revealed herself as the 81st member of the genius society, you felt your entire being shatter into pieces of who it once was. That was why she left you. Ultimately, Ruan Mei was selfish, and she had always been a selfish person.

You were foolish for loving her.

But you couldn't stop.

By the time you finally encountered her again, your history had become just a speck of dust in her mind but it was still your reason for hurt. It was still the reason why getting out of bed was a bit harder and why looking in the mirror hurt just a bit more than it should.

"Oh, it's you."

Her monotonous voice has you wanting to squeeze her throat, strangle her until she can't speak but you don't move. You stare at her, her lack of reaction, her poker face and you just swallow.

"How are you?"

That was the only sentence you could manage out and if you looked closely enough, you could see her eye twitch slightly as her throat tightens- her composure begins breaking at the sound of your voice.

"Well." She nods. She sounds too composed to you despite all the pain she is desperately trying to hide. She hates you for making her feel this way. She hates how weak she feels when you make that face at her, when your eyes widen and your mouth tightens into a line, body tense and breathing shallow. "You?"

She notices how your body tenses even more at that question, how your eyebrows begin to furrow as your face grows pink from anger.

"Not very good."

"Oh."

Her response had you fuming even more. How she was so careless and thoughtless towards you and how you felt drove you off the walls. She doesn't give a shit about you, why would she even ask?

Because you don't see the guilt that eats away at her heart every night as she stares at the photo of you that she has on her bedside table.

"Congratulations. You did it. Genius society."

It came out bitter and harsh, and Ruan Mei doesn't flinch but she feels this twist in her gut that's too unfamiliar and too painful for her to fully register. She doesn't understand this feeling. She wants to, because she wants to know how to stop it.

"Thank you."

You scoff at her response, physically unable to stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you stepped closer to her, jabbing a finger into her chest.

"You're a fucking bitch."

She hates how her heart leapt at the feeling of your touch, she hates how your words actually manage to hurt her when it really shouldn't be affecting her at all. She's been called so much worse, so why does this, coming from you, hurt so much?

"Is this because I left?"

How can she be so dense?

"You left without saying a word! You just disappeared off the face of the earth, I don't hear from you saying where you are. I don't know what happened, I thought I did something wrong, but no- I remember who you are. A narcissistic bitch who only cares about herself."

The last part hurt more than it should've.

"I don't only care about myself."

You can't help but falter at how soft her voice suddenly goes as she looks down, not making eye contact as she shifts her bodyweight from foot to foot.

"I really cared for you."

Those words shouldn't affect you. You should've moved on from what happened almost twenty years ago now but you can't. You just stare at her and you hate how you feel tears start to form in your eyes as you blink violently, trying to hold it back.

"Don't say that to me."

She goes silent.

"I hate you."

She looks down and you don't see the tears that well up in her eyes.

"I really hope you succeed. I hope you get everything you've ever wanted."

She doesn't even get to see your face for the last time, because by the time she finally gets the courage to look up you were already gone. Your last words to her haunt her every time she begins her studies, or every time she tries to focus on figuring out creating a new life species. She knows you didn't mean it, yet she can't help but want you to notice her just one last time.

Maybe this time, she could fulfil her long broken promise to you.

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@44rtem idk ifthis is the ruan mei content u wanted... but here u go <3

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 2

authors: well....this is happening. don't ask. we're just going with it. gotta read part one before consuming this.

don't know who's interested, so only tagging the people i know have read and would be okay with a tag!

taglist: @sayyestoheav3nn @fearlesschimera @annfg8 @zoeyybellex3 @cyberdejos2

Solana never expected to see Roman Reigns again. Not in person, at least. That up close, especially.

It was a one off. A fluke. An anomaly. Her happenstance literal run-in with quite literally the most dangerous man in their world was just one of those things she'd never forget but nothing beyond that.

She could never forget his intense gaze on her, the heat that shot through her body when he touched her, his arm holding her, protecting her almost from a man who clearly doesn't understand boundaries.

But, while she tried her best to put the weekend's unexpected happening behind her, life, or maybe fate, had another plan in motion. One she could have never expected or seen coming.

She's sorting through one of the few remaining boxes that still needs to be tagged and put out for sale when a throat clears behind her.

Putting down the iPad, Solana stands up, wiping her hands on her shorts and loads up her typical, usual smile. Turning around, she readies to greet the probable customer but falters a bit, taken back by his appearance.

Wild, red hair that's surely seen better days. Tall with an almost lanky build, he wears one of the friendliest grins she's ever seen on a person, let alone a man.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "How can I help you?"

Again, he clears his throat, pulling out a wrinkled little piece of paper that seems to have writing scribbled on it. "Yes, I'm looking for a Sol---Solana?"

She laughs at his pronunciation but proceeds to confirm her identity. "I'm Solana."

He makes a sound, slapping his hand against his forehead. "Of course, my apologies!" She giggles. His demeanor is so amenable. "Umm, yes, if you could, umm, come with me?"

At that, Solana's smile drops. "I'm sorry?"

He leans over a bit, and she naturally moves back a little. "I'm sorry." His cheeks are heating with redness. "I'm here on behalf of the Tribal Chief."

Solana goes still. "Roman?" He nods. "He's---he's here?"

When Solana mentioned Roman coming to see her, something she still can't figure out where it came from, she wasn't actually expecting him to follow through on that.

And yet....

The man continues to explain, "he would come in, but....you know."

Yes, she does know. Roman Reigns coming into her little, quaint bookstore would certainly attract an audience and attention, the last two things she wants, that she's ever wanted.

Solana nods.

She should reject it. Should try to find some excuse as to why she can't. Why she's busy. But, she's also not dumb enough to say no to this man.

You don't just say no to Roman Reigns. You can, but it's bound to not end up well. And Solana would rather not find herself on his bad side.

Pushing back her anxiety, she finds herself agreeing. "Of course." Hooking her fingers through the hoops of her denim shorts, she asks, "w-where is he?"

The man whose name she realizes she still doesn't know motions with his arm. "Ladies first."

He really does have a gentless about him that doesn't seem to make sense considering who he works for.

Solana silently and wordlessly follows him out the emergency exit in the back of the store, ignoring the fact that that's probably how he got inside in the first place, which makes little to no sense to her. How did he get by without the security system going off? But, for her own sanity, she doesn't push it too much.

This is Roman.

He gets what he wants.

And speaking of, Solana finds her stomach knotting a bit when she's outside in the alleyway behind the strip. There's three black SUV's with tinted windows lined up, but he's standing by the one in the middle. Leaning against the middle door, his arms are crossed over each other, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes she secretly wishes she could see.

Moving closer, Solana has to take in once again the magnanimity of him. Roman is such a big man, his presence alone something that's both overwhelming and strangely satisfying.

But, when she gets her wish, and he lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head, she finds that feeling in her stomach intensifying. He's raking those beautiful eyes over her entire body, from the top of her head to the sole of her feet.

And Solana is suddenly wishing she'd maybe put on a little makeup or done something more sophisticated with her hair. Not that that seems to stop this man from looking like he'd take her in the back of this alley if he could.

Before she can say anything, the man with the wild red hair is speaking again, his voice suddenly riddled with anxiety.

She gets it.

"Ms. Solana, as you requested, sir." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and just when Solana expects him to walk away, leaving her along with the one man she probably shouldn't be left alone with, he continues to talk, offering an unexpected save. "And might I say, my Tribal Chief, she is absolutely beautiful. I mean, if I wasn't already married—" At the same time Solana looks at this strange man confused, Roman's gaze is borderline murderous. "But I am m-married, happily so, might I add. And I would never betray my Tribal Chief—"

"Sami."

"Yes, My Tribal Chief?"

"Leave." It's spoken to the man, but Roman's intense gaze is back on her. "Now."

Sami.....it fits.

"Of course," Sami clears his throat and scrambles away, getting in the SUV that's farthest from them without bothering as so much as a goodbye.

Once alone, she finds herself admitting in that same small voice, "I-I didn't think you'd actually come."

He chuckles, and it's such a beautiful sound. "I'm a man of my word, Solana." He flicks his eyes to her mouth. "I said I would see you again, didn't I?"

He did. She just wasn't counting on it.

Swallowing, Solana toys with the string of her top, unintentionally dragging Roman's attention to her cleavage that's showing more than usual. Of course. "How did you find—"

"That was easy. If I want something, I get it." She should know this, know that this man could probably have her social security number at this point if he wanted. "What are you doing tonight?"

Oh.

This is escalating. Quickly. So quickly. She should pump the breaks, should find someway to dead this now. But, she instead finds herself answering him, "n-nothing. Why?"

"You are now." Roman kicks off the SUV and instead moves toward her. Instead of backing away like she did with Sami, Solana stands still, only silently and internally panicking when he snakes his arm behind her and jerks her toward him, into him, into his body. Solid as steel. He's so big. Naturally, her hand moves to his chest, something Roman notices and smirks at. This man. "I'm fighting tonight. I want you there."

It takes her a second to think about what he's referring to, and then it hits her. WarGames is tonight. It's one of the few main events he still participates in. She hasn't attended an event in years. It's never been her setting, but instead of finding a way to tell him this, she's still limited to one to two word response.

"O-oh."

His smirk deepens as he brings his hand to her chin, thumb glossing over her skin. "I'll send a car to pick you up."

Picking up on something, she asks, partially concerned, partially flattered almost. "You-you know where I live?"

Roman's eyes continue to study her face, and she's never felt so under pressure. Like this is a test of some sort that she has no idea if she's passing or not. "I know a lot about you, Solana Miller, but there's still more I want to know." Oh my god. "Wear red."

Just how much does he know? Had he looked her up? Done research on her? Why? What would be the reason? What's so interesting about her that not only has he gone out of his way to gather information on her, but beyond that, is now seeking more info.

It just....it doesn't make sense.

Eyes shutting a bit from the overwhelming nature of this all, she finds herself asking in a breathy voice, "w-why?"

And as if she wasn't already an apprehensive mess, Solana's knees nearly give out from under her when he dips his mouth near her ear. "I like seeing you in my color." She exhales shakily and nervously, as he ghosts his lips over the shell of her ear. "Though I'd rather see you in nothing, but we'll work up to that."

That's not exactly what she was asking about, but regardless, it takes the pure will of God for her to not pass out when he finally pulls away, the lack of his touch on her body something she notices almost immediately.

Roman lifts his hand and snaps, not even a full minute later, one of his men emerging from the passenger side of the SUV to open the car door for him. "I'll see you tonight, Solana."

He can clearly see the reaction he's evoking from her and obviously finds great enjoyment in absolutely toying with her sanity. It's something that leads to her asking, "How-how do you know I'll be there?"

She never accepted. Never agreed. Never mind the fact that she's already thinking about what she owns red that could work for the event....

Roman gives her a curious look followed by another chuckle that she finds so much more attractive than she should. He answers so easily and confidently before climbing in the truck, door being shut for him,

"Because you're just as intrigued by me as I am by you."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Anniversary challenge.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Prompt: Anniversary | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Eddie Munson Lives, Or Did He?, He Definitely Did Right?, A Glitch in the Matrix, Shifted Timelines, Parallel Universes, Sliding Doors

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks sleepily. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the familiar shape of Steve crossing along the foot of bed, heading towards the window. 

That isn't unusual. If Steve hears a siren, or a dog barking, anything, he crawls out of bed and heads to the window to look. But tonight, Eddie hadn't heard anything. 

"Huh?" Steve responds, from bed, next to Eddie.

Eddie looks again, expecting to see Steve bent over at the waist, looking out the window, but there's nothing there. Instead, Steve's in bed, and has clearly been asleep.

Eddie swallows. Maybe he was dreaming, "Sorry. I think I was dreaming," he says, hoping he can convince himself of that. He looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and it's just after three.

Steve chuckles, voice rough with sleep, and pulls the comforter up over his shoulder.

Eddie thinks, weird. 

But then it continues happening. 

All day, he's felt like there's someone just out of his line of sight, and that person seems a whole lot like Steve. Eddie isn't scared, per se. He's unnerved, for sure, but it feels like Steve. Not a ghost or a demon, or anything sinister. 

It's just like a second version of Steve is moving around the house, dancing along his peripheral vision, and Eddie is forced to only observe. 

It's not until later that he realizes the date: March 27th, 2006. 

It's the anniversary of his near death in the Upside Down. That can't be a coincidence. That's the day he was sure he was dying, if not already dead, and then he suddenly wasn't. The bites weren't that bad. All superficial. He barely even needed any medical attention at all.

Dustin had overreacted.

And, yeah, it felt hazy at first, but they all just blamed it on the stress and adrenaline he'd been pumped full of. Blamed it on the near death experience that wasn't actually that near death at all.

And now, he's seeing an echo, a ghost, of someone very much alive. 

There's a glitch in the matrix. 

Like when you see two people, strangers, on public transportation wearing the exact same shirt, sitting one row in front of the other. Only, Eddie's seeing Steve. A different version of Steve.

Eddie does a deep dive on the internet. Decides it's not a glitch in the matrix at all. Instead, he's pretty damn sure he's shifted timelines from the one where he died, to this new one where he didn't, and now they're bleeding together. All these years later.

Steve listens, patiently, and then kisses him on the top of the head, "Honey, I was there. You lived. I promise. 'Twas barely a scratch."

Eddie nods. 

Of course. Of course that's true. 

But he thinks maybe the other outcome was true, too.

Shadow Steve is getting more vibrant, and now Eddie can follow him around the house. Not really able to look at him straight on, but if he keeps the corner of his eye trained in his direction, he can see him for longer stretches.

He's the same, but different. 

Quieter, sadder. More alone. 

And there's no Eddie there. Eddie is 100% sure of that. 

He's gotta do something about this.

Eddie's sitting outside of Nancy's office when she comes out of the door.

"Eddie!" she says, surprised, but happy to see him. He's about to rain all over her parade.

"I'm dead. I'm in the wrong timeline," he says, and her face falls. She reaches out, and puts her hand on his forearm.

"C'mon," she says, and he gets in her car, and looks down at his hands.

"What's going on?" she finally asks.

"I'm seeing Steve, in the house," he explains, and she raises an eyebrow, and he laughs, "Not that Steve. Not my Steve. But he's there, too. He's good," he promises. Because he knows she'll worry.

"Start from the beginning," she urges, and he does. Telling her everything.

"It's just a glitch in the matrix," she assesses, and he shakes his head.

"It's not. It's too frequent. It wasn't a one and done deal. It wasn't a trick of the light, or a shadow. He's there. Just outta my sight. Like he's in a parallel universe."

"And you're sure it's Steve? Not something Upside Down-related?"

"It's Steve. I'm not scared of him. Because it's Steve."

Nancy follows him all the way back to Hawkins, then sits on the bed beside him. 

"Eddie," she says, and he shushes her. Taking her cheeks, forcing her to look in the direction he wants. It doesn't take long.

"There!" Eddie says, and Nancy gasps. 

Fuck. He was kinda hoping he was just losing his mind.

"You can see him?" he asks.

"I can see him. Barely. Out of the corner of my eye. It's definitely Steve."

Eddie sighs, "Told you. What the fuck do I do now?"

Steve can't see him. Eddie can. Nancy can. Robin can. Dustin can.

But, Steve? He just can't.

Nancy thinks it's because it is Steve. The same Steve. Just minding his own business in another timeline, that's now somehow bleeding into theirs. 

"Do you think this is lingering weirdness from the Upside Down?" Eddie asks.

"If it is, we should get El," Dustin suggests, and they all agree.

El takes one look at him, "That is Steve."

"Yes, we're aware," Eddie says, "how do we merge the two?"

"You cannot."

"Can we at least close the damn curtains?" Eddie doesn't want to keep seeing this Steve.

El thinks about that, "Maybe."

She forces Steve to hold her hands, and while reluctant, he's willing. For Eddie.

It's quiet, then Steve says, "Oh, whoa. That's me." Then, "Tingly."

And Shadow Steve fades away. Disappearing, like he'd never been there.

"Is he okay?" Eddie asks. He doesn't want any version of Steve to disappear. 

"Yes. Now you cannot see him. Not gone, just invisible again."

"Out of sight, out of mind?" Eddie asks. 

She nods, "Exactly."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[giggly-squiggily]

Hiiii! I hope you're doing well. This is my first time requesting so I'm a lil scared. I request Lee Megumi and Ler Itadori. Megumi was looking a little down and our precious pink head wanted to cheer him up.

*dances after reading this prompt cause it's utterly perfect* YES! Good gracious how I love some Lee!Megumi! He's my favorite JJK character! :D I've gotcha covered, anon! Some Ler!Yuji coming your way!

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart @riisada @sp1racle @happy-trenchcoated-impala @r-ine_lovesu

Yuji walked right past his room, only to stop- backtrack, and stare at him. Eyes wide and brows quirked, he took in the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his lips, the redness lining his wet lashes. “‘Gumi?”

No response. The other boy merely looked at him. It was enough for Yuji to come in fully, shut the door behind him and crawl into bed. “What’s going on, Gumi? Talk to me.”

“...” Megumi looked like he wanted to, but the words weren’t coming. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, averting his gaze before finally settling on: “I’m just not okay right now.”

Yuji’s brow furrowed even more, then he quickly gathered up Megumi in his arms, pressing Megumi’s face into his chest and squeezing him gently. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay now.”

Muffled sounds came, but Yuji just petted his head. “Shhhh. I got you. I got you.”

“Yuji- too tight!” Megumi gasped out. The pink haired boy yelped and released him some, giving him the room to lean back and breath. “Gah! Ugh..I thought I was gonna die!”

“Pfft- like I’d ever let that happen!” Yuji snickered. “At least you’d die smelling something nice, right?”

Megumi stared at him. Yuji blinked, then he reached out and sniffed down his shirt. “Oo! Yeah- no. Definitely need to shower.”

Megumi made a small noise, biting his twitching lips. Yuji saw an opportunity and ran with it.

“Oh, so you agree?” Yuji pretended to grow upset, the hands around Megumi curling into claws. “You think I stink like the bathroom after Tempura Tuesday. You think I smell god awful like that one perfume Nobara bought, don’t ya?”

“Y-Yuji!” Megumi shivered when those claws began to move, twitching along the backs of his ribs as he squirmed. “K-Knock it off! I d-didn’t say an-ny of thahaht!”

“You were thinking about it!” Yuji pointed out, unable to keep his facade as he watched Megumi start to giggle. “I could see it in your eyes! You can’t tell me any lies!”

“Gaha! Geahahhahaha, Yuhuhuhuji! Cohohome on, dohohohon’t!” Megumi reached up to shove him away, but his push had no strength. Whether it was from his earlier misery or Yuji’s otherworldly muscle, he didn’t know. What he did know however was Yuji had him trapped. “Gehehhehet ohohohoff!”

“No way! This is the first time I’ve seen you smile all day!” Yuji rolled them over so he was on top, putting his weight to use as he danced his fingers up and down the brunette’s sides. “I’m not stopping until I’m sure that smile of yours stays on!”

“Ahh! Aheahhahahahhaa shihhihihi-” Megumi thrashed more at the pressure Yuji was putting on him- the fact he was properly stuck worsened the ticklish feeling. He flailed his hands about trying to grab anything on the other boy- his hair, his hoodie- even a tickle spot. Alas, his efforts were for none. “Yuhuhuhuhuji yohohohou soohohohn of a bihihihihihitch!”

“Ooo, Gumi said a bad word! Gumi said a bad word!” The pink haired teen cackled in delight. He dragged his fingers up to Megumi’s armpits, all but squealing in glee when the other boy slammed his arms down with a shout. “Bad spot? I thought mine were terrible! Hehehehe!”

“YUHUHUJI!” Megumi barked out a laugh, grabbing at his shoulders and digging his fingers in. It did nothing to stop him, but Yuji did take the hint with a wince. His hands moved back down to his waist, a bad spot but not nearly as ticklish. “Aheahhahahaha, shihihihihit! Yohoohhoohu gohohohohoohd?”

“Yeah, nothing too bad. Nobara bit me once when I tickled her.” Yuji snickered at the giggly snorts and wheezes Megumi let out. “I think I still have the teeth marks! She’s like a cat when you get her. You however- you’re more like a dog!”

“Oohohohoh woohohohohow! Hohohow orihihihginal-AH FUHUUHUHUHUCK!” Megumi practically shrieked when his hips were squeezed, another spot proven to be rather deadly. Yuji gleamed like the morning sun. “NOHOHOHOO DOHOHOHOOHOHN’T!”

“Awww, does it tickle, Gumi? Huh? Does it?” Yuji cooed at him, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together as he carried on digging his thumbs in. “Is the sad whittle Gum-Gum finally starting to feel better-”

Given past experiences tickling his friends, you’d think Yuji would have learned by now how things usually end.

A press into a particular sensitive bundle of nerves. A lurch. Seconds later- Yuji was seeing stars, Megumi’s face colliding into his own. He flopped over and off the shadow teen with a low groan, rubbing at his face. “Oww..”

“Ugh, damn..” Megumi groaned as he did the same, eyes wet with new tears from the pain. “Sorry. How’s your head?”

“No complaints.” Yuji responded automatically. He froze, as did Megumi.

Then…

“Pfft- gehahahhahahahaha!” Megumi cackled, wincing some with one hand still on his forehead. “Gohoohohd, that was stuhuhuhpid!”

Yuji was laughing just as hard, his headache residing as he watched Megumi choke on his mirth. “It’s your fault for showing me that movie! Seriously though- are you okay? I know I have a thick skull.”

“Heh, yeah- I’ll live.” Megumi adjusted in bed, turning onto his side so he could face him. “Erm…sorry, about your head. And erm…thanks.”

“Oh?” Yuji asked, grinning at Megumi’s blush.

“Shut up. I’m trying to have feelings. Gross.” The brunette scrunched up his nose before looking at him again. “Seriously. Today was…I don’t know. I just woke up depressed and stayed that way. I didn’t know it at the time, but I really needed a friend. So…thanks.”

Yuji’s teasing grin faded into a look of genuine awe. He started to smile too, if not a little wobbly. “Heh…yeah, well that's what friends are for. If you’re sad, I want to fix it.” He reached out, lightly shoving Megumi’s shoulder. “Though I’m still kinda mad you think I smell!”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to a toilet.” Megumi reminded, leaning in and taking a small sniff. “Now that you say it though…I can smell it now.”

“Oh you son of a- Get over here!” Yuji threw himself onto a grinning Megumi, going for his hips once more. Just as he got it going, the door flew open.

“What the hell is going on-” Nobara yelled out, pausing seeing the antics before her. “Oh, it’s tickle Megumi time?”

“No! No, it’s nohohohot! Noba-RAHHH!” Megumi shrieked as she threw herself into the fray, joining in with a sinister giggle. Soon the room was filled with laughter once more- a mix of all three of them.

Just outside the door, Gojo watched on with a soft expression. Nodding, he turned and left, the sound of his students lightening his steps.

Thanks for reading!

[thegirlamongthestars]

fluff alphabet - c.alcaraz

author's note: i had the biggest tenderness attack while doing this and picturing it in my head 😭 i'm just a big sucker for sweet Carlitos

dividers: @enchanthings

a = affection + activities (how affectionate is he? how does he show affection?/ how does he spend his free time with you?)

Carlos is naturally affectionate in the softest, most endearing ways.

He loves holding your hand, sneaking in forehead kisses when you least expect them and constantly checking in with cute texts.

In his free time, he’s all about quality moments with you.

Whether it’s trying out new sports, binge-watching series or just having a nap cuddling each other.

b = beauty - what does he admire about you? what does he think is beautiful about you?

He thinks everything about you is beautiful.

From the way you smile when you’re talking about something you love to the way your hair gets naturally wavier during summer.

But his favorite thing about you is how your eyes sparkle when you're looking at him.

c = cuddles + comfort (does he like to cuddle? how would he cuddle you?/how would he help you when you’re feeling down?)

He’s the ultimate cuddle-buddy.

Carlos loves to hold you close, especially after a long day.

When you’re down, he’ll wrap his arms around you, stroke your hair and whisper comforting words.

His go-to move is to bury his face in your neck, making you laugh until you forget whatever was bothering you.

d = domestic + dreams (does he want to settle down? how does he picture their future together?)

He’s open to the idea of settling down, though he doesn’t rush it.

Carlitos pictures a cozy home, somewhere warm in Spain, filled with laughter and definetly a dog or two running around.

e = equal (is he the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?)

Carlos values equality in the relationship.

He isn’t dominant or passive; he sees you as a team.

He loves making decisions together, bouncing ideas off each other and respecting your independence.

f = fiancé (how does he feel about commitment? how quick would he want to get married?)

Carlos is all in when it comes to commitment. Once he knows you’re the one, he doesn’t hesitate.

He’s the type to casually drop hints about your future together, teasing you about where and how he's going to propose to you.

He knows you both are young now (so marriage is a future project) but he definetly knows he wants to go through it by your side.

g = gentle + gratitude (how gentle is he, both physically and emotionally?/ how grateful is he; is he aware of everything you do for him?)

He is gentle both physically and emotionally.

He’s mindful of your feelings, always considering how you’re doing.

He’s incredibly grateful for the little things you do.

Whether it’s showing up to his matches or just making him laugh on a bad day.

He never takes you for granted and tells you how lucky he feels to have you.

h = honesty (does he have secrets he hides from you? or does he share everything?)

Carlos believes in transparency.

He doesn’t keep secrets, even if something’s bothering him.

Even though he's still learning how to express his feelings, he’s open with his emotions and always listens when you need to talk.

i = i love you (how fast did he said the L-word?)

He didn’t take too long to say it.

Carlos felt it early on, but he waited for the perfect moment—a calm, intimate moment when it was just you two.

He said it while holding you close, whispering it like a secret while looking at you with his glimmering caramel eyes.

j = jealousy (how jealous does he get, does he get jealous easily? how does he deal with it? what does he do when he’s jealous?)

Carlos doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, he tries to be subtle about it.

Maybe a protective arm around your waist or holding your hand a little tighter.

He trusts you, but when he’s feeling a bit jealous, he’s extra affectionate to remind both of you that you’re his.

k = kisses (what are his kisses like? where does he like to kiss you? how was your first kiss like?)

Carlos’s kisses are the perfect mix of sweet and playful.

He loves teasing you with quick pecks, just enough to make you want more, then grinning when you try to pull him back in.

His favorite place to kiss? Definitely your lips, but he’s also obsessed with sneaking kisses on your neck or your forehead when you're not expecting it.

Your first kiss? Total butterflies.

It happened out of nowhere—one minute you were laughing together, the next he was leaning in, holding your face softly.

The kiss was slow, but not too serious, with just enough heat to make your heart race.

l = love language (what’s his love language? is it compatible with yours?)

His love language is a mix of physical touch and acts of service.

He shows his love by being there for you whether it’s cooking dinner or giving you a massage after a long day.

Luckily, your love languages are super compatible, cause you're just as touchy as him.

m = morning (how are mornings spent with him? what’s your morning routing like?)

Mornings with Carlos are the best.

He’s an early riser but loves to spend a few extra minutes in bed with you, cuddling and talking.

He loves when you tell him what you've dreamt that night while he plays with your hair or just caresses your back slowly.

You usually make breakfast together, and there’s always playful teasing as you sabotage each other on the kitchen.

n = nicknames (what does he call you?)

Carlos calls you cute, Spanish nicknames like “mi vida” or “amor.”

Sometimes, when he’s feeling cheeky, he’ll call you “peque”, especially if he’s teasing you about how tiny you look next to him.

You adore calling him "cielo" and he literally melts everytime he hears you saying it.

o = on cloud nine (what is he like when he’s in love? is it obvious for others? how does he express his feelings?)

When Carlos is in love, he can’t hide it.

He’s constantly smiling, his eyes light up when you walk into the room and his friends tease him about the "stupid look" on his face all the time.

He expresses his feelings with small gestures like leaving you sweet messages on a whiteboard you have at your fridge door or surprising you with fresh flowers everytime he sees you.

But he's top way of expressing how he feels is by showering you with LOTS of kisses and cuddles.

p = pda (is he upfront about your relationship? does he brag about you with others? or he rather shy to kiss, etc. when others are watching?)

Carlos is not shy about showing his affection.

He’s proud to be with you and doesn’t mind kissing you in public or holding your hand for everyone to see.

While he’s not over-the-top, he makes it clear that you’re his.

q = quizzes (how many little things does he remember about you?)

He remembers everything—from your favorite ice cream flavor to the way you like your coffee.

He pays attention to the smallest details, surprising you by remembering things you didn’t even realize he noticed.

Like the time he bought you a set of earrings and ring just because he saw you looking at them mesmerized on a shop window.

r = romance ( how romantic is he? what would he do to make you happy? what is your favourite moment in your relationship?)

Carlos has a romantic side that shines through in simple, thoughtful ways.

He’ll plan spontaneous date nights or surprise you with handwritten notes.

Your favourite moment is when you're just cuddling at the sofa and talking about anything after a long day.

s = security + support (how protective is he? is he helping you achieve your goals?)

He’s protective, but in a way that’s sweet, not overwhelming.

Carlos always makes sure you’re safe, whether it’s holding your hand in a crowd or walking you home.

He’s your biggest supporter, constantly encouraging you to chase your dreams.

He'll sit by your side when you're studying or doing things related to your job and he'll ask you to explain everything to him.

t = try (how much effort would he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Carlos always goes the extra mile to make you feel special.

He loves planning sweet surprises, like a cozy picnic or a spontaneous weekend getaway.

He’s not just about the big stuff either—he’ll help out with day-to-day things, just to make your life easier.

He loves putting in the effort to keep things fun and fresh.

u = understanding (how well does he know you? is he empathetic?)

Carlos knows you so well.

He’s empathetic and can sense when something’s off, even before you say anything.

He’s always there to listen and understands that sometimes, you just need someone to be there without saying a word.

v = value (how important is the relationship to him? what is it worth in comparison to other things in his life?)

To Carlos, your relationship is everything.

He cherishes what you both have, often saying it’s worth more than any trophy or title he could ever win.

He prioritizes your time together, always finding ways to make you feel loved and appreciated.

Whether he’s busy with training or matches, you’re always on his mind.

He sees you as his greatest treasure, and he knows that the bond you share is what truly makes his life complete.

w = whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

Carlos can’t imagine his life without you.

You’re his partner in everything, and even the thought of being apart for a bit feels a little empty.

You bring so much joy and meaning to his life, and he loves sharing all those moments with you.

x - xtra (a random fluff headcanon)

Cuddled up on the couch, you and Carlos were wrapped in a cozy blanket, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light around you.

He turned to you, a playful smile on his face. “You know, I could get used to this,” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Just sitting around doing nothing?” you teased.

“As long as it’s with you...” he replied, leaning in closer and rubbing softly his nose against yours.

You couldn’t help but grin at his cheesy charm. “Smooth talker, huh?”

“Only for you” he shot back, his eyes sparkling.

With a sudden burst of mischief, he snatched a popcorn kernel from the bowl and tossed it at you. “But seriously, I could stay like this forever.”

You laughed, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing some back at him. “Forever sounds pretty good to me.”

y = yearning (how would he cope when he’s missing you?)

When he’s missing you, it hits hard.

He’ll send you random selfies from wherever he is or FaceTime you late at night just to hear your voice.

He’s the type to tell you he misses you even if it’s only been a few days.

z = zeal (is he willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? if so, what kind of?)

Carlos is all in, willing to go to any length for the relationship.

He makes every effort to carve out special moments for you, whether it’s a quick coffee date between practices or sneaking in a call after a long day.

His dedication shines through in every effort he makes to keep the spark alive, showing you that no matter how busy life gets, you’re always worth it.

[blu3-l0v3r]

୨ৎ Transfer student ୨ৎ pt.2

-----------Clumsy----------

During class, you had stayed quiet, too scared to actually socialize with anyone.

When the teacher had called on you to answer a question, you had stuttered without meaning too, turning red immeditaly, rushing to end your sentence.

"Fuck this" you mumbled to yourself when the teacher finally stopped asking you questions.

You heard a small chuckle from the person next to you, causing you to turn your head around.

With curious eyes, you see him.

A dark haired boy, with a kind smile, and a sweet but somewhat nervous aura.

He must have heard you stutter, and this just made you even more embarrased.

His eyes meet yours, and he immediately notices your nervousness.

"Sorry, i wasn't laughing at you" he says, kindly, still smiling.

Something inside me clicks, and my shyness seems to disappear in a second.

"It's alright, don't worry about it. I'm Y/N, I'm new here* I say, trying for a smile

"Nice to meet you, I'm Yuta Okkotsu"

He sticks out his hand, and I shake it.

The rest of class, I spend talking and chatting with him about silly things and videogames.

"Hey, one of my bestfriends loved videogames, you should talk to him!" Yuta says excitedly. His eyes light up when he talks about his friends, I find it endearing.

"Oh sure. Is he in our class?" I ask, starting to actually get curious about meeting this boy.

I didn't really speak to people much, so the idea of making TWO friends a day was quite exciting to me.

"Oh yeah, he's sitting at the back* Yuta points to the end of the class, and I follow his hand.

He's pointing specifically at a platinum blonde haired guy, who was indeed sitting in the last row, eyes glued to his screen and fingers moving fast on the keyboard.

Next to him was probably one of the prettiest girls I've ever seen. She had forest green hair, small and Bayonetta-like glasses.

She had a slightly serious look in her eyes, and as she loked at the boy and then to his screen, she scoffed.

She's scary, I think to myself.

"Earth to Y/N" Yuta's voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I shake my head as I remember what the convo was about earlier.

"I'll give you his number" he says kindly, as he texts me his friend's number ; me and Yuta had exchanged numbers earlier.

"Alright, thanks Okkotsu, see you around" *I say, smiling, as I get up from my seat and leave to the bathroom.

In the afternoon, I was just sitting on a bench, scrolling mindlessly on Instagram reels, laughing to some stupid meme, when I see a message pop up from an unsaved number.

I ignore the message, discarding it as probably a scam.

Later at night, as I was finally getting to bed for my nightly episode of Gilmore Girls, i re-open my messages app, finally remembering the text from earlier.

Seeing as he he doesn't answer quickly, I put on Gilmore Girls, and finally fall asleep.

GUYS WHAT DO WE THINK??

SHOULD I KEEP ON GOING WITH THE STORY

taglist: @tomikixd

[rockwgooglyeyes]

Although this is extremely late, what would you say happens during and after Nyx’s and the other’s escape?

HI (I am assuming) PARA!! I'm so sorry that I never wrote something for the aftermath of Nyx's round, I had a draft but I just moved into my flat at uni and my flatmates moved in last Sunday and it's been kind of super chaotic since. I haven't had much time to write. But the finished product will be in this ask-response, for simplicity's sake. If that's okay with you

LOG (SUBJECT: Round 18 - ONYX LOSS)

SPECIMEN: 001247 (ONYX)

When the lights go out, fear is the furthest thing from Nyx's mind.

Why would he be afraid? Lang won, she won, he's so happy he could cry. She deserves it, she deserves the world, he wants to hug her and kiss her forehead and tell her that he loves her before he goes. He clutches onto her, their dance stuttering to a stop in the muddy black. He can hear the alarms going off, the panicked screams of the crowd, the footsteps clattering through the arena and the gunshots ringing out, but it all feels far away. Lang starts to push him away, her hands shaking, but he holds fast.

"It's just me, please," he rasps, voice breaking on the last syllable. She goes still in his arms, wariness clear in the steely potential energy of her limbs. He finds her forehead with his hand and brushes away her bangs from it, bending down to press a kiss to the revealed skin. "Thank you, Lang, for being my friend. I love you." She hesitates, hands twitching where they rest on his chest, before hugging him. She squeezes him tightly and lets go all too soon, distancing herself from him. She takes one step and then another, getting farther and farther each time.

Letting out a shaky breath, Nyx lets her go. Lang doesn't turn, she doesn't run away, she watches him unflinchingly in the murky darkness. If there really is an afterlife, he thinks, I will miss her when I get there. Maybe I'll get to see Kyo, or Cas. Tov might even name a constellation after me. He doesn't follow her, simply standing there and waiting for death to come. He doesn't care how it's done, whether it be a bullet through the chest or someone slams him to the ground and bashes his head in, it doesn't matter. If his last memory is one of pain, then so be it. He deserves it, after all this time of living past his expiration date.

See, it was as soon as he realized that Kyo would never love him back, it was when he first set his eyes on Asahi, it was when he stood on stage at graduation- those were the moments that told Nyx that he wouldn't make it past twenty. Here he is, though, twenty and something months, however many days over his allowance. He doesn't regret it, the moments he had in that stolen time. He was able to tell Tov he loved her, he got to tell Vera goodbye, he saw Aurien one last time and Solei, well, Solei is still alive. He just hopes that they're happy.

Nyx can't help but laugh- Tov will be absolutely furious with him for dying. For losing. At least, he hopes she hates him for it, that it makes it easier to accept that he's gone. Part of him still wishes he had done something other than laugh. He wishes that the last thing he said to her was something gentle, sweet, but he supposes it wouldn't have been true to form. He's not a sweet, gentle person. He's brittle and sharp around the edges and cruel when it counts, bitter when it hurts. Still, he wishes that he had done something better than laugh when she told him to win. He laughed because he had nothing to say, because he was surprised, because he was astounded that Tov thought he even stood a chance. After all, she knows the truth, that Cas threw the round, that he'd done it as some kind of sacrifice, some sick act of love.

(Really, Nyx should have known from the beginning, that something was off, that Cas wasn't trying as hard as he should have been, that he wasn't pouring his heart out into it like he would've been had the circumstances been different. He should've known that the calm, the acceptance in Cas' eyes was a harbinger of doom, an omen for what was to come. He didn't. He was too foolish, too naïve, too stupid to see the truth.)

When a hand clamps down over his mouth from behind him, he doesn't scream. He doesn't fight. He waits for the end, no resistance, no questions, no fear. Maybe that's why it takes him a moment to make out Aurien's voice, pleading with him.

"Nyx? Nyx, can you hear me?" He blinks, turning to see his little sister, standing stark in the darkness. Inky strands of hair is dripping into her wild eyes, she pulls down a mask covering her mouth, breathing heavily as she watches him.

"Aurien," he murmurs, breathing her name in a hushed whisper, reverent as a prayer. He takes a step forward and tucks her hair behind her ear, cupping her face with a hand, stroking his thumb down the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the gentle flutter of her eyelashes. She leans into his touch, smiling slightly and releasing a sigh of relief. "You're not supposed to be here." What happens next doesn't make sense, her eyes flashing open, fury flashing in their obsidian depths.

"Nyx," she intones, warning obvious in her tone. She places her hand on top of his, her jaw twitching with barely constrained rage.

"I've already stayed too long," he tells her, running his fingers through her hair, just as he used to when they were children and he was comforting her while she cried. "Please, save Lang instead. She doesn't deserve to die." She jerks backwards, ripping his hand away and stumbling, looking shaken to her core.

"What are you talking about?" She demands, throwing her hands up in the air. "You don't deserve to die, either." Nyx barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

"Of course, you would say that," he sighs, looking down at the ground. "But Cas died. He died so that I could live. Kyo is gone, Vera too, that's not even mentioning Tallis. You and Solei are happy, now. I'll just drag you down, with my cynicism, my baggage. You're better off forgetting about me."

"You-"

"I don't deserve to be saved."

"Well, good thing that I don't fucking care whether or not you deserve it," Aurien snaps, eyes flashing dangerously. "You're coming. We're saving you. No buts."

Of course, right after she says that, a whistle pierces the air and punctures her in the side. Right where she was shot the first time. Right where Cas was shot. Nyx catches her when she falls, grasping at her arms with shaking, sweaty hands. She coughs out blood onto his shoulder, trying to push herself back up and failing. Nyx should be helping her, he knows he should be helping her. After all, she's real.

But his vision is flickering in and out, Aurien's hair turning curly, the color of dried blood, hemoglobin on silk. She looks up at him, says something, but he can only see Castor's face, smiling at him with bloodied lips. Nyx can only hear the laugh that bubbled out of Castor in his last moments. Nyx's heart is beating the drums of war in his ears, chest heaving and tears budding in his eyes. He presses his hand to the wound in her side to stem the bleeding (like he did with Cas) and she hisses in pain just like Cas did.

Nyx chokes on his own breath, stuttering backwards, unable to do this any longer. Aurien makes a noise in surprise, crumpling to the floor, just like Cas did. Just like Cas did.

"It's not, real, he's gone," Nyx hiccups out, shaking his head, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "He's gone, he's gone. Please, please," He repeats it, a broken record catching again on the needle, attempting to self-soothe in the face of a fracturing psyche.

"Onyx," a voice cuts through his delusions. He barely hears it and when a hand suddenly grabs his forearm, he flinches away on instinct, eyes wide, panic taking over every other faculty of his mind. The owner of the hand is he doesn't recognize, with white curly hair and a face mask just like the one Aurien was wearing, and they're looking at him sternly. "We need to get out of here."

"Wh- I- alright," Nyx acquiesces, too tired to fight anymore. "Where're we going?" His voice is hollowed out and rough, broken by his crying.

"Surveillance room," the white-haired person grunts out while picking up Aurien gingerly and holding her over their shoulder. "You know a way there?" Nyx nods, scanning his mind for the shortest route from the stage. He beckons them to follow him and darts off, lowering himself down off of the stage and going to the undercroft beneath the stage through a hidden panel. The person ducks in behind him, seeming surprised at where they end up, the racks of costumes, the tools and other supplies, microphones and cords strewn about. Nyx weaves through the mess quickly, leaving his companions to catch up as he rewires the lift to bypass the security lockdown.

"I wouldn't risk the lift if we didn't have someone injured," Nyx says quietly, fingers tangles and disentangling the cords he pulled from the outlet. Finally, the lift dings, the light turning on as the doors open with a hiss. The person holding Aurien nods to him and enters the lift. Nyx presses the button inside and opens up the admin panel to program a no-stop straight shot to the surveillance room. "See, the thing is, the undercroft and the surveillance room are directly connected because they're both backstage work areas." Nyx doesn't know why he's talking, not really, but the words are spilling out of him and it feels good to fill the silence up with something other than the hum of the electricity and the whispers in his head insisting that this isn't real either, he's already dead and this is some grandiose delusion of heaven.

They actually reach the surveillance room before the person holding Aurien even responds to his rambling which feels a bit like a blessing in disguise. There are two people already in the surveillance room, one of which whips around to face them while the other stays hunched over the admin panel, presumably doing damage control. Funnily enough, they look like Ryu and Ji-Woo but that's ridiculous. Those two went missing.

"Nyx?" The person that looks and sounds like Ryu exclaims, amber eyes widening. "Shit, what happened to Aurien, Bunny?!" The person carrying Aurien, Bunny apparently, lets out a sigh and walks out of the lift, dragging Nyx with them.

"She got shot, Ryu, obviously," Bunny answers. "Now, where's our muster point? We can't just hole up in here."

"I'm working on it," Ji-Woo barks out. Nyx has decided that they must be the real Ryu and Ji-Woo, no matter how ridiculous that is, because they both sound like them and look like them and Ryu got called Ryu by Bunny and Aurien is the real Aurien and- fuck, he should really just shut up. Ryu glances at Nyx out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey, are you okay?" Nyx blinks, frowning at Ryu in confusion. "You seem shaken up." Nyx stares at him for a moment longer before trying to smile.

"Never been better," he lies through his teeth. He's definitely been worse but suffice to say, this not one of his better days.

"I've got a muster point from Solei, c'mon, we need to go," Ji-Woo says as soon as he sends out a command for a system wide 24hr shut down. "We meet at docking bay 4D in the Φ wing. You know where that is?" Ji-Woo glances to Nyx who blinks in surprise before nodding. He finds his way to the front of their pack before darting ahead, scanning the hallways for any guards as he slowly orients himself and takes them through the weird back alleys of the arena.

"How do you even know these are here?" Ryu asks at some point while they're in an abandoned fuel cellar in Φ wing.

"Uh, trial and error mostly," Nyx replies as he tries to remember whether they go right or left from here. "Oryon took me to the last two seasons of ALNST but it didn't really supervise me well so I wandered around."

"And you never got caught?" Bunny inquires, skeptical and for good reason.

"Oh, it's left," Nyx realizes, beckoning them to follow him through the gap between two walls where there used to be insulation, before the wing was decommissioned and set for demolition. "I mean, I haven't gotten caught doing this yet." Finally, they emerge in the bay after going through the vault in the ceiling, where all the old electrical is still hanging from the rafters.

"You would have been useful to have when we did this before, Ji-Woo and I kept getting lost," Ryu remarks. Ji-Woo blushes and elbows his partner before breaking off to find Solei. He waves them over to a bulky object covered by a dusty tarp after a moment. He and Ryu drag the tarp off and Solei pops up from the bed of the truck, eyes huge and wary in the dim. Bunny settles into the bed of the truck as well, putting Aurien down gently in the pile of bedding there so that she won't get jostled too much. Solei chirps, panic obvious in their tone and Nyx feels guilt pool in his stomach. He gets into the passenger seat after Ji-Woo settles behind the wheel, unable to face his sister who he was unable to help when she needed and the friend who loves his sister as much as he does.

Nyx thinks the best thing that happened tonight was Lang surviving.

Perhaps, Nyx is not good at accepting good things.

I will tag @starry-skiez because Ryu & Ji-Woo belong to him, @bluemoonscape because Castor & Kyo belong to him, @apriciticreveries because she's Aurien's mama, @solei-eclipse is Solei's creator, @rosedeleca for Bunny & Rose. um. @zerostyrant because he asked to be tagged <3 oh and @ivanttakethis because i mention Tov <3

[problems-exe]

The Poem

The story of how Prim and Lu got together in the printerjamau

Wrote this a bit ago and decided it was about time I posted it. This is incredibly long, so I apologize for that, but for those interested in their story, I think it's worth the read.

Begins after the cut :]

The sound of the wind breezing through the desolate building rooftop does nothing to drown out the rapid beating of their soul.

Prim finds themselves sitting, not alone, but with a close friend. Listening to her ramble about the latest au she visited and the small bakery from which she had bought treats. The bag sitting at her side was long emptied, its contents having been eaten hours ago. Prim has found themselves a lot less alone lately.

Despite their best efforts, it's hard for them to focus on Lu’s rambles, distracted by the intense feeling of something in the air. Something about today felt distantly off. It wasn't unusual for the two to meet like this, a gift cradled in one of the skeleton's hands. But Lu had seemed so.. anxious when she asked them to meet. It was odd. She had seemed… flustered? Almost? But that wouldn't make any sense-

“Prim?” Lu pulled them out of their daze with the utterance of their name, a concerned and nervous expression on her face.

“Sorry, that wasn't that interesting, was it? I got a bit carried away…” She states, averting Prim's eyelights as a deep blush settles on her face, accentuated by the deep orangish-pinkish hues of the sun setting before them.

‘She looks so beautiful like this,’ Prim shoves that thought as soon as it crosses their mind, nervous glitches appearing up their body as they force themselves to refocus on the conversation again.

“Nah. Long day. Just zoned out.” Prim replies after a pause. A lie. And they know it's one. Their day had been fine, a typical day as any. They're always honest with her; why are they being like this now?

“Oh,” She sounded surprised, as if she had been expecting Prim to call her boring.

“I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it? I've been rambling on for a while…” She continues, looking back at Prim with a crooked smile. The usual squint of her eye sockets not present. Something was wrong. She'd been acting noticeably off all evening; they should have picked up on the pieces sooner. Prim was the worst person for something like this.

“Are- are you feeling alright? You seem.. upset.” Prim slowly gets out, thinking through the words before settling on them. Lu looks a bit startled at the question.

“I'm, um, yeah! Yeah, I'm alright, just-” She fumbles with her words for a moment, blush on her face darkening, and Prim's expression turns into a concerned frown.

“I wrote you something.” She continues, digging around in her bag for a split second before retrieving a clean, white envelope. Clasped shut with a cat sticker, the words “For Prim” written in cursive on the back. She bashfully presents the letter to Prim, and they momentarily gawk at it, carefully taking it from her hand. Careful to not get ink on it.

“You mentioned wanting to read one of my poems sometime, so..” *She adverts her gaze, voice trailing off at the end as Prim looks over the parchment presented to them. Their soul pounds in their chest, and they scramble to find balance in its weight. They stare at the small envelope, feeling deeply touched by the gesture. They reach to carefully remove the cat sticker before Lu's hands stop them.

“Don't, um, don't read it here. Read it when you get home. It'd feel embarrassing to watch you read it in front of me.” She states, with a nervous laugh, gently pulling her hands away. Prim nods carefully after a moment, slowly and delicately moving to place the parchment in their bag, careful not to bend it.

“I better get going now,” Lu interjects after watching Prim's bag close. They look up at her, surprised.

“Already?” They respond, concern still evident in their face.

“Yeah, I've got a long day tomorrow. I'll see you in a few days?” She responds, sounding hopeful, pleading almost.

“Obviously,” Prim responds immediately, worry still swirling in their chest.

“Right. Of course.” She states, as if reassuring herself.

“I'll see you then.” She continues, a tight smile on her face. She gives a wave of goodbye before disappearing into a portal, leaving Prim sitting alone. Surprised by the abruptness of it all.

They clutch at the strap to their bag, the featherlight weight of the envelope feeling heavy at their side. They're worried about what they'll find written in there. It's hard to fathom Lu acting so.. afraid over one of her poems. She'd sounded excited at the idea of sharing some with them when Prim had brought it up. Maybe she got cold feet? Even then…

Well, no point in speculating. They'll find out when they get home.

Prim sits for a moment longer, taking in the sunset one last time, attempting to calm their racing thoughts. After feeling more composed, they reluctantly rise to their feet, a tinge of anxiety gnawing at their chest.

Navigating through the usual motions of leaving a get-together like this, they slide one of their feet along the asphalt, leaving a trail of ink behind. They place their foot back next to the other, standing in place as the ink pools around them.

They begin to sink into the puddle, dragged into darkness for a split second before emerging in the cozy living room of their apartment, ink swiftly vanishing beneath them.

Taking a cautious step toward the nearby couch, they gingerly take a seat, pausing to take a deep breath. They turn their attention to the coffee table before them, using their hand to slide a few objects to the side, making room for the letter nestled in their bag.

Pausing once more to collect themselves, they carefully unfasten their bag, delicately reaching inside to withdraw the envelope. They stare at it pensively, toying with the small sticker that sealed it, a tiny yet almost taunting obstacle. They smooth the envelope with a thumb, using one hand to slowly and meticulously peel off the sticker, careful not to rip the parchment

They feel lost in their own little world, with nothing but themselves and the letter existing within the tranquil room. Unfurling the page from the envelope, they place the latter on the couch alongside them before setting the sheet down on the cleared space of the coffee table.

Their eyelights graze over the page, reading its contents carefully. It reads,

Prim,

I've written this poem for you to convey the words I've struggled to say aloud. I’m sorry for not finding the courage to tell you in person. As an artist yourself, I'm sure you understand that sometimes it's easier to express our emotions through our work.

I understand if my feelings aren't mutual; I know this must have come as a shock to you.

I just hope this doesn't change anything between us.

Yours Always,

Lu

Below this, begins the poem,

On a canvas brimming with vibrant dreams,

Where colors mix and blend with gentle grace,

I've etched our story, yours and mine,

In shades, that time will embrace.

Your smile, a brush of vibrant hue,

Turns every moment into radiant light,

And in your eyes, I find the clues,

To ignite my soul with a beautiful sight.

Each day with you, a masterstroke,

A blend of joy and true elation,

Your laughter dispels the shadows,

Bestowing me a profound sensation.

From twilight’s glow to dawn’s first rays,

My love’s a spectrum rich and rare,

In every shade, in every phase,

You're a masterpiece beyond compare.

With every brush and every stroke,

I craft a world where we could be,

A place where dreams and hearts intertwine,

A canvas created for you and me.

So I ask now, with hopeful heart,

To step inside this vivid scene,

To share a life, to play a part,

Will you be my love, my dream?

Prim sits in stunned silence, reading and rereading the words, page blurring as they attempt to process what they've just read. Lu likes them. Actually likes them. It's hard to comprehend. Why would Lu choose someone like them when she could have anyone she wanted? Lu's affection felt like a dream, too surreal to grasp.

The confession weighs heavily on Prim's chest, butterflies fluttering in their stomach. They're at a loss for words, mind racing with questions and uncertainty, but also a strong feeling of excitement that they can't push down. Their face turns a deep shade of cyan, magenta, and yellow as the realization sinks in. Lu likes them, and they like her. The words of the poem echo in their mind, evoking a soft smile. Despite being alone they start to feel embarrassed by their reaction, prompting them to pull their scarf up to cover their blushing cheeks as they read through the page once again.

A panic settles in as Prim suddenly realizes that they need to respond to Lu's confession. What do they say to her? Nothing they could say would come even close to matching what she had written for them. They never had been the best at expressing their emotions. But… Lu needed that right now. She deserved a proper response from Prim.

No wonder she had been so nervous earlier, she had poured her heart out to the inky skeleton. She's probably feeling as anxious as Prim does right now, waiting for their response.

Well, better not keep her waiting any longer.

They cast a final gaze at the poem before rising to their feet, letting their scarf fall from their face. They secure their bag firmly over their shoulder, one of their hands clasped around its strap. With unwavering determination, they proceed, ignoring their nerves.

They begin the familiar routine of creating a portal, their foot swiping across the ground with a trail of ink following in its wake. The ink gathers at their feet, pulling them into the encompassing darkness.

Upon emerging, they find themselves standing outside The Star Sanses’ base, as well as Lu's home. The Omega Timeline bathes everything in the glow of starlight, casting the surrounding area in a celestial glow. After countless visits, the building's layout is etched into their memory, allowing them to easily locate Lu's room from the outside, even in the darkness.

After a brief walk, they arrive at Lu's window, gazing up to get a glance at it. They can see her curtains partially drawn, revealing a few of her plants resting on the windowsill. Their nerves intensify as they turn their attention to the tall tree adjacent to her window. Taking a deep nervous breath, they begin the familiar climb. Despite having done this many times before, the weight of the moment makes their movements feel awkward and slow, taking longer than usual to ascend the tree.

Eventually, they settle on a sturdy branch, close enough to reach Lu's window. They pause for a moment, trying to calm their anxiety before tentatively tapping on the window and leaning back, waiting for Lu to open it.

Moments later, they catch a glimpse of Lu's face peeking through the curtains, her eyelights meeting theirs. Despite the dim lighting, her deep blush is unmistakable. With a soft click, the window unlocks and slides open, revealing Lu's head as she peeks through to see them clearly.

“What are you doing out here?” She asks, her voice filled with unease, a nervous expression on her face.

“Me too,” Prim responds quickly, their cheeks darkening as the words leave their mouth, realizing that their statement didn't quite make sense.

“...What?” Lu asks after a pause, her head tilted slightly in confusion, a slight laugh heard in her tone.

"I mean— I read the poem. Me too. I, um, I feel the same,” Prim stammers, avoiding Lu's gaze, turning their face away and tugging their scarf over their cheeks once more.

“Oh,” She breathes, surprise evident in her voice. There's another moment of silence, broken only by the chirping of the crickets and the rustle of the wind.

The air feels tight as the silence sits between them, Prim's soul pounding anxiously in their chest. They're starting to wonder if it was a bad idea coming here. What if they misunderstood the situation? What if they just messed everything up?

Gently, Lu's hand takes hold of Prim's arm, snapping them out of their thoughts; they timidly look up, finding Lu's gentle smile waiting for them. Prim feels the blush on their face deepen and forces themselves to not look away. It's hard to gauge her expression as Prim searches her face, but she doesn't appear to be upset. Lu tugs on their arm, and Prim understands the unspoken message. With Lu's help, they slowly make their way through the window and into her bedroom, landing softly on her carpet.

The silence doesn't last much longer once Prim is inside. Lu's expression is soft and adoring as she delicately takes Prim's hands, their eyelights meeting in a moment of quiet connection.

“...Really?” She asks, her voice gentle and hopeful. The look on her face leaves Prim feeling flustered, wondering how they had gotten so lucky. Prim nods, struggling to find the words, their throat tightening. Lu's smile widens.

“I want to hear you say it out loud, though,” Lu playfully pouts, her affectionate expression coaxing the words out of Prim. They feel like they'd do anything, as long as she continued to look at them like that.

“Yeah. Yeah, I, uhm…I like you. I have for a while now,” Prim responds, their voice slightly shaky. Lu's smile grows impossibly wider, her eyelights fuzzy at the edges, glistening with tears of joy.

“Will you be my partner, Prim?” Lu asks, her voice filled with hope and excitement.

“I'd like that,” Prim replies easily, their face flushed, gazing back at Lu with the same adoration.

“Cool,” She responds with a wet giggle, using one hand to wipe happy tears from her eye sockets.

“Cool,” Prim repeats, with a similarly elated expression. They gently replace Lu's hand with theirs, wiping the tears from her face. The two of them stay like that for a moment, silent, until Lu speaks again.

“May I..?” She asks, face flushed, eyelights flicking down to their mouth. Prim nods, and Lu leans in.

Yeah, coming here had been the right decision after all.

[verycoolusername1]

The Game

Summary: In which Ethan Edwards can't help but pay attention to the drum major of the Umich marching band.

Ethan Edwards x Gn!reader

Warning: I can't really think of any right now

A/N: Yes, I made y/n drum major, something I could only wished to achieve in high school, and I'm a band kid. SO WHAT?? I based this off of my high school band(which isn't competitive but has two drum majors(in this it's just one, I'm giving yn the spotlight- BUT I DO HAVE AN EXCUSE FOR THE OTHER DRUM MAJOR) and like SO many people), so things might be a little bit different, but nonetheless band is band, so let's go!

I never had games during the day so for 3rd quarter break, uhhh they're just getting lunch(which is still pizza cause that's what I always got lmao)

Uhhh and this when the hughes family came to umich for a game, so like recent(Jack's girlfriend isn't in this though at all as I do not support her nor her actions)

I have a cold rn so I'm missing a game today :(

It was his senior year of college. Ethan honestly had no idea how he made it this far, but he was happy it was almost over.

His lungs were on fire for cheering at every touchdown. He had never been more grateful it was now halftime.

"I'm going to concessions, you guys want anything?" Luca asked.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stay for this." Ethan exclaimed.

"Looks like someone wants to see the cheerleaders." Luca mutters.

Ethan slapped the back of his head, Luca held his hands up in surrender. When Ethan turned his head he was met with a stranger bumping into them.

"Oh gosh I'm so sorry!" They began to apologize.

"It's fine." Ethan rushed out.

This also gave him a moment to observe the person, they weren't in typical clothing but rather the opposite. In uniform that stood out from others.

"That's uh a nice uniform you got there." Ethan cringed mentally at how he sounded.

You chuckled awkwardly. "Thanks." You turned your head. "Sorry I gotta go, uh see you around stranger!"

"It's Ethan!" He called out after you.

"See you around Ethan!" You said your goodbye before running to the field.

Ethan watched you in confusion, you weren't on the football team or atleast not that he knew of but then he saw it. You were with the band.

You stood in front of them on the field while the band was in count out position.

Subconsciously you looked up and met eyes with Ethan, you blushed slightly before remembering why you were there.

"At the ready!"

The band followed your command and got into position, getting quiet while doing so. The crowd got silent too, waiting in anticipation for what to come.

"Band ten hut!"

"Hut!" The band replied.

Ethan watched in amazement as you controlled the band and how they listened to you without a second thought.

You were nervous to say the least, this was the first time you was on the field without James(the other drum major, he had a cold).

The band were making their way towards the opening set of the opener leaving count out position.

Just ten more minutes you told yourself, but it felt longer with Ethan? You think his name was, had his eyes set on you. You couldn't see it but you felt it.

"One, two, one, two, ready, and!" You counted off.

Ethan watched at the band move miraculously as you kept conducting and in time. He could never do that, playing a song from memory and remembering where you went on the field. He never knew how much work the band puts into a ten minute show until now.

Ethan watched you most of the time rather than the actual show. Hell, even when the band came off the field, he was still only staring at you. No cheerleader could pull him away from the drum major.

"Looks like someone caught Ethan's eye." Duke whispered to Luke, who laughed.

Luca came back from concessions with a bag of popcorn and a hotdog.

"Who caught Ethan's eye?" Luca practically yelled, forcing Ethan's eyes to leave you and to his friends.

"No one!" "Someone in the band!" Ethan and Mackie spoke at the same time.

"The drum major?" Luke clarifies.

"What no you can't be serious?" Luca asked. "A band kid?"

"Hey band kids are awesome." Quinn piped up.

"I gotta agree with Quinn there Luca." Jack agreed.

"And this one in particular is good looking." Mark adds.

"You aren't allowed to say that." Ethan muttered.

"Yeah cause only you can." Luke teases.

"Do you know their name?" Jack asks.

"No but they know mine." Ethan began to smile.

"Oh my god, don't even know their name and you're already whipped." Duke laughed.

"Ethan!" You called his name, making him and everyone turn to look at you.

You were used to the attention being drum major and all. But having Ethan and his friends look at you made your stomach churn up butterflies.

You guestered for him to come to the plaza as the band was having their 3rd quarter break. You stifled a laugh as Ethan practically tripped on his own feet trying to get to you.

"Are you okay?" You asked as he reached you.

"Better now." He chucked, out of breath.

"Y/n." You told him.

"Hm?" Ethan looked down at you.

"My name is Y/n." You clarified with a nervous chuckle.

"Oh." Ethan now realized what you meant. "Well then Y/n... halftime was amazing."

The way your name rolled off his tongue made it feel like he'd known you for years. It made your heart swell.

Realizing that you have been staring at him and didn't say anything in reply and you cleared your throat and looked away.

Thankfully before you could say anything, your friend Robin came up to the two of you.

"Hey Y/n and..." Robin eyes widened as she whispered to you, not so subtly. "Oh my god, is this the cute guy you bumped into before halftime?"

You looked at her with a look that read, 'if you don't stop talking imma shut you up myself."

"His name is Ethan." You muttered, not even daring to look up at him as he held an amused look on his face.

Robin nodded slowly before blurting out. "I'm gay! I mean uh- I like woman not men! They said you're cute not me obviously I mean- wait what? Sorry!" She clarifies.

"Robin I love you," You started. "But please leave."

Robin nodded quickly. "Alright yeah got it bye!" She ran off.

"Sorry about her, she tends to over share sometimes." You explained.

"Oh no Luke's like that all the time." Ethan chuckled. "So uh you think I'm cute huh?" He starts to tease.

You muttered an "Oh my god." Before covering your face with your hands.

Ethan laughed again only a bit more softly as he spoke. "Hey it's okay."

"And this is the part where you tell me you have a hot girlfriend back at home." You told yourself, not caring if he heard it.

Ethan frowned at this. "This is actually the part where I tell you I'm single and I would like to get your number."

You snapped your head up at Ethan, shocked.

"You want my number?" You asked him.

He nodded rapidly. "I mean yeah, why wouldn't I want the cute drum majors number?"

Your face grew hot to his words before clearing your throat. "Oh... then uh yeah yeah I can give you my number."

Ethan gave you his phone as you quickly typed your number in and sent a message to yourself.

"Two minutes!" Your band director called out.

"Shit," You cursed under your breath. "I have to go."

"Right." Ethan smiled sadly.

You did as well before you came up with an excellent idea. "Meet me at the band room after the game."

"Uh I would but I have no idea where that is." He explained.

"The band room? Oh I definitely know where that is." Luke suddenly appeared beside him. "I'll make sure he arrives in one piece."

"Thanks Hughes." You chuckles before giving Ethan a soft smile. "Bye Ethan. I'll see you later."

"Band, let's start making our way back now!" You yelled.

"Oh they could totally yell at me like that." Ethan whispered under his breath.

Luca slapped his chest. "Dude this is getting weird."

"Hey uh Luke, how did they know your name?" Mackie asks.

"Well It's complicated." Luke says before quickly adding. "We didn't hookup!"

"You're probably the reason Robin's gay." Ethan muttered as a joke.

"Hey! I heard that!" Luke rolled his eyes.

[rabbits-sin-den]

Gojo x Reader

Summary: Gojo disappears after you say I love you. So you punish him.

Minors: DNI

"Today's the day." I said to myself in the mirror.

It was our two-year anniversary. I'd been anticipating this one because today was going to be the day I said I love you. Neither of us have said it before which meant I would be the one diving into uncharted waters first. I was nervous on principal but based on the fact he's said everything but (mentioned a future together, asked about rings, got terminally jealous anytime someone else looked at me) I felt pretty confident he felt the same way.

I went to dinner and everything went swimmingly. We reminisced. We joked, laughed, and paid for our dinner. When he tried to invite himself into my apartment. I stopped him.

"I have work tomorrow and you don't know the meaning of moderation."

"Just quit already.” he whined.

"It's one more week. I might as well finish it out."

He whined some more and I teased him a bit before I finally took the plunge.

"I love you." I said. "I um....I wanted to make sure I said that."

Silence.

The longer it went on, the more nervous I felt. When I looked up, Satoru was looking away. When I was about to ask what was wrong he took a step back and disappeared. I blinked, dumbfounded. My heart pounded in my chest. As the shock wore off it seeped into anger and sadness. I went inside my house and closed the door, sinking to the ground.

He doesn't love me back.

The next few days were a blur. I was heartbroken. I even looked up new apartments to move into. I couldn't exactly keep him out of my house but I could move. Was it dramatic? Yes. Was I going to give myself the opportunity to just forget what happened and let myself be strung along? No. For the past two days the endless cuddles, kisses and passionate nights plagued me. I was almost happy I could work this week. At the end of Wednesday, my boss walked up to me with an oddly apprehensive expression on his face.

"You don't have to finish out the week." He said.

"Huh?"

"You don't have to finish out the week. Letting you off the hook early since you have two days of PTO accrued."

"Did I...mess up?"

"No. But you look like you need a break." He said.

I mean I guess the "eyes swollen from crying every night" look wasn't awesome to look at every day but he also didn’t care about things like that. So what’s happening?

He cleared his throat, looked meaningfully at my desk before walking away. There wasn’t any arguing it. I didn't want to sit at home and think but I didn't have the energy to go out either. I packed up my stuff and took the train home. When I entered the apartment. There Satoru was, looking relieved to see me. I glared at him.

"Get out."

He blinked in surprise.

"What happened?" He asked.

What happened?? Fuck you dude.

"I'm not interested in this game you're playing." I said while putting down my bag and taking off my jacket.

"What game?"

"The game where you pretend you didn't brush me off when I said I loved you." I seethed. "The game where I pretend that you didn't fucking hurt me."

My voice cracked at the end and I could feel the tears coming.

"I love you too." He said.

Bullshit.

"Too late."

"I...."

I peeked at him and he looked sheepish which wasn't like him. Guess he knew how badly he fucked up.

"I left like that because if I didn't I wasn't going to be able to let you go to work." He said.

I ignored him and looked into the fridge for some leftover comfort food.

"You got off work early for the week right?"

I paused.

"How did you know that?"

"I threatened and bribed your boss."

"...What."

Satoru walked over toward me.

"When you said I love you I...." He walked toward me and trapped me against the counter. "Even now, just thinking about it, I want to..." He got closer and I felt something hard pressing against me. "I want to ruin you for anyone else."

I finally braved a look at his eyes and even though I was pissed there was no mistaking that look. His eyes were dark with hunger and barely restrained possessiveness. There were a couple of nights when I got to see a glimpse of this look. Usually, after someone was a little too flirty with me or a random day where he snapped after not getting enough affection.

"You really hurt me." I said.

"I'm sorry." He said, leaning down and kissing me.

I could tell where this was going so I broke it off.

"How sorry are you?"

"Incredibly."

"Then make it up to me.” I said. “And I decide how you’ll do it.”

If I leave it up to him I’ll wake up with a brand new car and an apartment full of flowers. 

I sent him away while thinking of what could possibly make me forgive him for the past few days of hell he put me through. At first, nothing came to mind because nothing was enough. He seriously broke my heart. But it was also his first serious offense besides the cat thing. The apartment was filled with memories and evidence of his affection. The custom couch for he exclusively bought to cuddle more comfortably. The stolen kisses in the kitchen. The random gifts he’s given over the years.

But I don’t want to get played.

After a lot of deliberation I decided I can forgive this. Not before a little revenge though. I wanted him to suffer but not in a way that hurt him. An idea popped in my head and I smiled and pulled up the computer.

Friday morning when I was in the bath, he knocked on the door. When gave him permission he opened it. Satoru stood there in a maid outfit awaiting my orders. He looked confused but didn't dare complain. I stared at him for a bit before smiling at him. I sat up and turned my back to him.

"Wash my back and massage my shoulders while you're at it."

He walked forward and I held a hand up.

"What do servants say to their masters after an order."

"...Yes Ma'am."

"Good."

He came over and did as he was ordered. He was surprisingly good at what he does. I let myself make satisfied noises, enjoying the way he tensed up after each one.

"Thank you. That's enough. Start cleaning the kitchen and living room."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He left the bathroom and I contemplated what outfit would make this hardest on him. Probably me standing out there naked but I didn't have the guts for that. Plus it would be cold. I got out of the bath, draining it. After several minutes of deliberation, I decided staying in a towel might be best. He glanced at me, stiffened then resumed cleaning while avoiding me. I sat on the living room couch and turned on the TV.

"When you're done, come over here and kneel on the floor."

I didn't leave much for him to clean so within the hour he was in front of me kneeling. I got up and inspected the kitchen. He even got inside the fridge. Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure Satoru knew how to clean given his upbringing. I returned to the couch, sat down, and examined him. His skirt was slightly lifted from his half-hard erection.

"You did a good job in the kitchen. So you do have a little common sense."

I pressed my foot onto his cock and he jolted. His body trembled as I slowly put pressure up and down his shaft.

"So what were you thinking on our anniversary?"

"I wasn't." He replied.

"Exactly. You were thinking with this..." I pressed harder and he grunted. "Instead of thinking how that would affect who you're with."

"I'm sorry." He said breathlessly.

His hips started moving and I removed my foot.

"You're not off the hook yet." I said then I held out a vibrator that can be strapped to his dick. "Put this on."

I handed it to him and he glanced at me. He lifted the skirt up, putting it in his mouth, and revealed his unfairly pretty cock. I kept my face impassive as he slid the little ring over his shaft. He looked at me and I clicked the remote. His eyes widened and in his shock, he dropped the skirt, his body tensing up.

"You're going to do my laundry," I said. " And that's staying on till you finish. If you cum that's it." I said.

He nodded and got up. I clicked my teeth and he looked at me, eyes swimming with desire.

"What do you say?"

I could see a wild look building in his eyes.

"Yes master."

I waved him off ignoring how the change in title made me feel. I supervised him while he washed the clothes. It was the most out of control I'd ever seen him. In the middle of movements, I'd increase the intensity, causing his body to jerk. I'd lower it to the lowest volume then rapidly increase it while he was watching the washer. His breathing got heavier as time went on and while the thick tented fabric covered it, I knew he was slick with precum. His hands gripped onto whatever it could like a lifeline. After two hours he was done.

He looked at me, eyes silently begging me for some kind of release.

I picked up one of my underwear from the clean pile and walked over to him. I lifted up his skirt and sure enough, his heavy cock dripped with need. I used the underwear the clean up the mess and then threw it in the washer.

"You've got one more load to do." I said before sitting back where I was.

When the machine got going he walked over to me. I glanced up at him and he bowed his head. I flinched when he dropped to his knees and held my hand.

"I'm sorry for hurting you..." He said softly. "And I want to make it up to you."

He spread my legs slightly.

"May I?"

I was at my limit anyway.

"Sure. At my pace."

I laid down and the second his tongue pressed to my center I gasped. He immediately got to work, running his tongue over my clit and working his fingers in and out. Loud moans rained out of my mouth and I couldn't catch my breath from the onslaught. When I caught a glimpse of his face, the calculated sharpness in his eyes, I realized...I got played.

He got up, towering over me while shoving the vibrating ring further down his cock. He pressed the vibrating piece against my clit causing both of us to curse. His breath was shaky as he rubbed his dick up and down my slit.

"I wanna serve my master." He said with a shaky voice. "Please let me serve you."

You just wanna get off you bastard.

But fuck I wanted to get off too.

I nodded and he immediately inserted himself inside in one swoop. I turned my head to the side as I tried to adjust to the sudden fullness. He moved and I cried out as his cock brushed a spot that made my head spin. He increased the pace, wanton moans filling the air as he got some relief. Every thrust was a shot of pleasure. Loud slaps mixed with our moans as the pleasure started to build. Satoru leaned in, hitting a deeper angle. My back arched as I whined, clenching around him. His tip slammed into that wonderful spot over and over and over.

"Ah-!" I gasped as he slammed down a little harder.

I closed my eyes for a bit and Satoru picked up my hips making me match his pace. My whole body tingled. I was over the moon. I glanced between us and all I could see was a filthy mess. I was in love.

"No one else..." He said with a shaky breath. "I'll make sure of it..."

"Sa-..I-I'm-!"

"Come on my cock, master." He commanded in a guttural tone.

The tension snapped and I threw my head back as I came. My body twitched as he kept fucking me through my orgasm. He never let up, not for a second. His hips stuttered as he came inside me, thrusting deep inside with a victorious look. When he calmed down, he poorly feigned innocence.

"Oh no. I came without your permission." He said, using my finger to press down on the remote.

He was still inside me so both of us jumped from the vibrations. His body shivered as a blissed out look went over his face. He looked down, a sinister smile was on full display as he slowly started thrusting again.

"Looks like you'll have to punish me."

I shuddered and twitched every time the vibrator at the end of his cock brushed my clit. Even though it was too much, I couldn’t bring myself to push him off. Through the intense sensitivity the pleasure started to build again.

“You should’ve been turned into a snake.” I stuttered out.

He caressed my cheek.

“I love you too. I meant that.” He said softly.

”I’m not saying it back until I forgive you.” I pouted.

”I’m willing to put in the work.” He smiled.

The laundry machine beeped, making both of us jump. “Start by hanging up the underwear.” I said finally.

He kissed me on the cheek, looking at me fondly before getting up.

“Yes ma’am.”

[sugdenlovesdingle]

I FINALLY DID IT!

I finished my pride fic! With an hour to go until the episode airs!

@flufftober 2023 Day 27: outdoor event

Austin Pride (AO3)

Owen and Gabriel go to pride with their sons

---

“Have you ever been to one of these? With TK?” Gabriel asked, tapping the ad in the paper open on Owen's kitchen table.

“Been to what? A camping supplies store?” Owen joked, turning the paper around to see what Gabriel meant. “Oh, that. Yeah, a few times. Back in New York. Never here though. I didn't actually know there was one.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Have the boys said anything... to you... about... going?”

“No, no I don't think so... although...” Owen trailed off, grabbing his phone and unlocking it and scrolling through his work calendar. “TK did schedule time off work that weekend. So my guess is that they're going.”

Gabriel nodded again.

“Are you... thinking of going too?” Owen asked. “Have you ever been?”

“No. When I was young... well... I don't think there was ever one where I grew up. And by the time I ended up in the big city... It's just never been on my radar.”

“Not even when Carlos or your girls were growing up?"

Gabriel snorted and took a swig of his drink. Andrea would have his head if she knew he was day drinking with Owen and not at his PT appointment.

“You know the mess we made of things with Carlos. So no, I've never been. Not with Carlos, not by myself.”

“But you're thinking of changing that?” Owen guessed.

“Well... it's definitely been on my mind more lately.” Gabriel admitted. “But I'm not sure it's my place.”

“Why not? Everyone is welcome at these things. That's kind of the whole point of them.” Owen chuckled. “The first time Gwyn and I went with TK was when he was 15 or 16. I don't know which one of us was more nervous.”

“What was it like?”

“Loud. Colourful. Lots of happy people. Everyone was in a party mood. We had fun. Even more so the second year when we actually marched. And a drag queen called me a DILF.”

“A what?” Gabriel asked, confused.

“DILF. It’s an acronym.”

“For…?”

“Dad I’d like to…” Owen raised an eyebrow and sipped his drink. “You know.”

“Dad I’d like to what?”

“You know… get freaky with...”

“What? Oh! I… should have known what that F stood for.”

Owen shrugged.

“I didn’t. I looked it up when I got home.” He laughed. “TK told me to never mention it out loud to anyone ever again.”

Gabriel nodded and tried to imagine having such memories with Carlos.

“But apart from that… what is it like? One of those parades.”

“Well in New York there were a lot of advocacy groups marching. And it was quite political. But there were also a lot of people marching because they just… wanted to. Celebrating who they are, who they love.” Owen said and laughed. “You should have seen TK’s face when this guy from a gay health clinic gave him free condoms and lube. And then turned to me and gave me some too because “sexual health is important no matter your age.” He said using air quotes. “TK was 17 I think. He refused to look at me the rest of the day. I slipped the condoms and lube in his backpack though when we got home. I didn’t know if he was actually having sex back then, but if he was, I wanted him to be safe you know.”

“Yeah…” Gabriel agreed and tried to remember if he’d ever talked to Carlos about sex, let alone gay sex, let alone safe gay sex. He knew Andrea had sat their girls down when they hit puberty, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember ever doing so with Carlos. “Would it be… weird… if I were to go to that parade?”

“As a spectator?”

“Maybe? Or participant.”

“I don’t see why it would be. We could go together!” Owen said, getting excited. “We could march with the boys! We could get matching shirts!”

“Oh… I uh I don’t know if Carlos would want me to. They’ve probably got plans with their friends.”

“We can all march together!” Owen pointed out. “Maybe that friend of Carlos’ I got talking to at the wedding will be there. What’s his name again… something with a J I think. He had some killer moves on the dancefloor.” He shook his head. “Anyway let me call the boys and then we can figure out our outfits.”

Before Gabriel had time to stop him or even make him take a breath and discuss things, Owen had pulled up TK’s contact and hit call.

“TK, what are you and Carlos doing the weekend of the 30th?” He said the second the call connected, not bothering with hello.

“The weekend of the - wait that's pride weekend. I scheduled the weekend off. It's already been approved. You're not making me change it now. We have plans.” TK replied, apparently not bothered by the lack of greeting.

“Yes, yes, I know. But what kind of plans? Are you marching in the parade?”

“I don't know... maybe. Why? Please tell me you're not planning on marching with the entire 126?”

“What? No.” Owen said immediately. “It's way too short notice." He paused to think. “But it's an excellent idea for next year. Remind me to talk to the AFD brass about it. We could build a float or use one of the ladder trucks! We could probably find some rainbow decorations or just buy some pride flags. Maybe we could get a local artist to design something for us! We could set up a competition! Maybe we could even get the winning design as a mural in the firehouse!"

Owen was getting more and more excited and started moving around the house to find a pen and paper to write his ideas down.

"Dad, dad, DAD!" TK all but yelled down the phone to get his attention. “Is that why you called? To talk about your ideas for an LGBT+ friendly firehouse?”

“No, you just gave me that idea.” he scribbled some key words down on an old receipt.

“So why did you call then? On my day off. That I'm spending with my husband who magically also has the day off. And we're enjoying that. Together. Alone.” TK said, emphasising the last two words.

Owen caught the implication but decided to ignore it.

“Oh yes, right. I wanted to know what your plans are for the pride weekend because we thought we might join you and march in the parade together.”

“We? Who is we?”

“Me and Gabriel. It'll be a multi-generational father and son thing. We were thinking of getting matching t-shirts printed. For all four of us.” Owen said, looking at Gabriel for confirmation.

“Wait, my father wants to go to pride?” Carlos asked and Owen briefly wondered if he'd been on speaker the whole time.

“Yes! It was his idea. He wants to share the experience with you. With both of you. And me I suppose. Even though I'm not gay. I mean... there was that one time in college...”

“Ok please stop talking.” TK said quickly. “I really don’t want to hear about your college hook ups.”

“It wasn’t a hook up!” Owen protested. “More like a… mutual understanding and appreciation.”

“Uhuh. Yeah, sure, Carlos and I have those all the time. This morning actually. He was very appreciative. And understanding. He’s also very good at following instructions. Very eager to please.”

“TK!” Owen heard Carlos say after some sputtering and coughing. He assumed TK had made him choke on his drink.

“What?” TK said innocently and Owen could practically hear the shit eating grin that was without a doubt on his face. “I was just saying we have a lot of these mutual appreciation moments. And how much I enjoy those.”

“Yeah, please don’t.”

“I can’t talk about how much I appreciate my husband now?” TK asked. “My big, strong, hot… so incredibly hot you wouldn’t believe…”

“TK…” Carlos warned but it came out more of a mix between a giggle and gasp.

“Guys, focus, please.” Owen interrupted them. “What colour are we thinking for the shirts? I was thinking pink, to fit the theme.”

“Wait what theme? When did we agree on a theme?” TK asked, distracted.

“The pride theme. Pink for pride.”

“Shouldn’t it be rainbow themed then?” Carlos asked, sounding somewhat more composed.

“I’m not sure I’d look good in rainbow colours.” Owen mused. “Yellow isn’t really my colour. It washes me out.”

“Dad, just wear whatever you normally wear.” TK said, sounding like he’d resigned himself to the fact he wasn’t getting out of going along with his dad’s idea. “We don’t need a theme. Carlos and I have our outfits planned out already.”

“No we don’t.” Carlos protested. “I told you, I’m not wearing that in public.”

TK sighed.

“We’re still discussing our outfits.” He corrected himself. “So just wear whatever. Nobody is going to pay attention to what you’re wearing… unless you’re in drag or wearing ass-less chaps.” He paused. “Please don’t wear those.” 

“I don’t think the cowboy look is really for me.” Owen mused. “But I do still have my motorcycle outfit…”

“If you wear that I’m not walking anywhere near you. And that’s a promise.” TK swore and Owen laughed.

“I guess my outfit is still a work in progress too. Gabriel and I will brainstorm and we’ll let you know what’s what.”

“Sure. But no leather and if anyone calls you daddy, I’m out of there.” TK warned him before ending the call.

Owen laughed and sat back down at the table with Gabriel.

“See? I told you the boys would be on board. Now, what do you think. Pink or rainbow?”

The next few weeks consisted of Owen forwarding every outfit idea he had to Gabriel as well as their sons in their family group chat.

TK shot almost everything down right away, while Gabriel was unsure and let Owen decide for them both.

“Ok, the boys said they’d meet us at the starting point of the parade. It’s not that far but we should get going soon if we want to get a good spot. You want to get behind the advocacy groups but still near enough to the front that people still pay attention.” Owen said as he let Gabriel into his house a few weeks later. “I have our shirts and signs right here.”

“Signs? What signs?”

“The signs we agreed on…” Owen said slowly as if he was talking to a child.

“I don’t remember agreeing to signs. What do we need signs for when we have the shirts?”

“We agreed it would be nice. I had them made especially. They’re laminated.” Owen held up one of the signs. “I know a guy who makes those yard signs for politicians, he made these for me.”

“Right. Well… I think… I’ll just stick to the shirt for now.” Gabriel said, warily eyeing the sign Owen was holding.

“Alright. Well… I’ll just… take both of them then. Maybe I can convince Judd to march with us too. He’s a father too and I think he and Grace mentioned taking Charlie to watch the parade because she likes colours.” Owen rambled while Gabriel looked at the two matching t-shirts laid out on the kitchen table.

“If you’re not sure, we can just go and watch. The boys won’t mind.” Owen suggested, picking up on Gabriel’s unease.

“No, I promised Carlos I’d march with him, so that’s what I’m going to do.” Gabriel said resolutely. “Andrea and the girls said they’d come watch too and I don’t want to let them all down.” He picked up one of the shirts. “Where can I change?”

When they arrived at the parade starting point, Owen seemed to feel right at home and within five minutes he’d become best friends with a few of the drag queens also getting ready to march.

“I’m here with my friend.” He gestured to Gabriel. “We’re consuegros actually. Our sons are married and we’re marching with them… but I don’t think they’re here yet.” He looked around. “We got matching t-shirts and we’re marching as a family.”

“That’s nice darling but you have to look the part if you’re going to march. That t-shirt just won’t do. Let us give you a make over.” She looked back and forth between Owen and Gabriel. “Both of you.”

Fifteen minutes later Owen had a rainbow flag painted on his cheek and both of them wore rainbow sashes, though Gabriel had convinced their style team to tie it around the rim of his hat instead of wearing it the way it was meant to.

One of the queens had called it Texas-chic and he liked the sound of that.

“Carlos! TK! Over here!” Owen yelled and waved when he spotted their sons in the crowd.

TK waved back and dragged Carlos with him over to their fathers. Owen did his best to hide his disappointment when he saw neither of them were wearing the t-shirts he’d made for them.

“Why aren’t you wearing the shirts we agreed on?”

“It’s too hot for those.”

“We’re wearing them.”

“That’s your choice.” TK said with a shrug. “And besides, I’m here with my husband, I’m wearing the ring he put on my finger, and his last name. I think people are going to get the message that I think being gay is ok.”

“I have the shirts in my backpack.” Carlos told them and shrugged at the raised eyebrow from his husband. “Your dad put a lot of time and effort into them, TK. The least we could do is wear them for half an hour.”

TK lovingly rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re such a boy scout.” He said and kissed Carlos’ cheek. “But I’m fine wearing what I’m currently wearing.”

Owen decided to drop it and just stood back and let the chaos unfold as his and Gabriel’s style team set their sights on TK and Carlos.

Before long they’d painted rainbow flags on their cheeks, put temporary tattoos on their arms, and managed to talk Carlos into taking off the tank top he was wearing underneath a mesh shirt, much to TK’s delight.

By the time the parade started moving, someone had given all four of them little rainbow flags to wave, and Owen was trying to find a way to both wave his flag and carry two signs.

The four of them started walking with the rest of the crowd, waving their flags and waving to the people watching from the sides.

There was a DJ on the back of a pickup truck playing party music, and TK convinced Carlos to dance with him when the parade had stopped for a moment.

Someone shouted at him to put a ring on it when they saw Carlos’ moves, and he just laughed, held up his hand to show off his wedding ring, and yelled back he’d already done that.

The song ended and the two of them walked back to where Owen and Gabriel were standing and watching them.

A few people had noticed the “Free dad hugs” signs they were holding and came to ask for a hug. Owen happily obliged but Gabriel seemed a little awkward and unsure what to do.

“Are you ok dad?” Carlos asked him and Gabriel nodded.

“I’m fine. It’s just… a lot to take in.”

Carlos looked around.

“Yeah… I was kind of overwhelmed the first time I went. The first time TK dragged me along.” He smiled to himself .“We’d only been together a couple of months by then. It was a lot but it was a great experience.”  

Gabriel smiled.

“I'm proud of you.” He told Carlos and squeezed his shoulder. “I know I haven't always been the best dad to you but I'm so proud of the man you are. I'm so proud to call you my son.”

Carlos swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Thanks dad. That... means a lot.”

“I should have said it sooner.” Gabriel shook his head. “Before I got this shirt made. Before I let Owen convince me all this was a good idea.” He said and laughed, gesturing at himself in his brightly coloured I love my gay son shirt and the rainbow sash around the rim of his hat.

“I don't know, I think it suits you. You blend right in.” TK said, trying to relieve the tension somewhat. “You're one of us now.”

Gabriel laughed and in a rare public display of affection pulled both him and Carlos into a hug.

“That puts me in great company.”

“I agree.” Owen said, joining their group hug. “You boys are the best thing to happen to us.”

The parade started moving again but as they marched, more people started to approach both Owen and Gabriel for dad hugs.

Owen thrived in the attention and somehow managed to bring out a whole new version of Gabriel, who seemed to enjoy being able to make people happy with a small gesture.

“Are you seeing this?” Carlos asked TK. They were walking a few steps behind their dads, watching it all unfold.

“Yeah. Looks like my dad finally had a good influence on someone.”

[heartfulselkie]

i have barely any followers so it's less stressful for me ig but sometimes i reblog things i 100% disagree with just because i think that the way they're talking about it is funny. a lot of people act like if you reblog something that means that you're all for that cause but sometimes it's just...funny. and their argument about like, letting bad opinions 'grow' is kind of also weird to me cos it's like - even if a blog had a million followers, it's a random post on tumblr? if they don't like it they can just unfollow 🤷‍♂️ idk not saying you should reblog those posts or anything - it's just on my mind whenever i reblog something i don't agree with and your post made me think about it again

It's certianly one way of looking at it!

I'm just someone who avoids conflict as much as possible though, even the potential of it 😅

I usually just steer clear of topics that are charged with a lot of opinions - because no matter what side you're on, there's a chance someone will see it and because they don't agree, they decide you're a target. It's just how the internet functions sometimes.

But I've had hate in my inbox before just over my fics or minor posts - and then gotten hate for how I handled it! Some days I'm just not up to inviting people to be angry at me because I found another post funny/interesting.

And one thing I always try to be wary of is the spread of misinformation. Even if a post is just someone's "bad opinion", there's a chance someone else can read the questionable facts of that post as accurate. This is the website of minimal reading comprehension after all 🤣

Sometimes though, it is just best to keep thoughts and opinions to yourself. The specific subject I made that other post about is something I have no personal stake in, its just something I've been sitting on the fringe of as an observer. So I'm hardly an expert, but I've seen enough going around to know my personal stance on it.

But its something that other people are involved in - and positively so. And these are people I've talked to in passing and haven't had any reason to be anything but polite and friendly to and this one thing won't change it. If they enjoy taking part in that topic and aren't harming/being harmed by it, then they can do as they like as far as I'm concerned. I'm not going to police their experience.

But I'm also not going to reblog an actually kind of funny but also a little inflammatory post. Cause yeah, I do find it funny. But I also do my best to keep a certain tone on my blog whenever I can.

[secondbeatsongs]

when you're into the Big Ship™ in a Big Fandom™, you have the luxury of having an OTP - a real One True Pairing, where you can read about just them for ages, and you will never run out of fics, and everything is perfect and beautiful and nothing hurts

but when you go to a smaller fandom, you'd better pray to whatever god you worship that someone else in this room ships the same thing that you do, and that if they do, they're writing more than late-night crackfic, because you're on thin fucking ice!

and how small is your small fandom? is it less than 100 fics? maybe even...less than 20 fics?

welp, then it's time to make peace with that god and either open up a text document or learn how to ship everything, because it's swim or drown babey! and your ship is sinking fast

anyway all of this is to say that after hanging out in small fandoms and shipping less-common pairings for a while, going back into a Big Huge Fandom™ is wild because suddenly it's like...wait, why didn't I ship these people again? I don't remember. why was I only sticking to one ship in this fandom?? boring of me, honestly. these guys should make out.