#so I at least am still perfectly happy lol

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

[qierxing]

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly. 

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?" 

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back. 

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far." 

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?" 

Another question out of left field. 

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke. 

"Yeah…" they murmur back. 

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

-

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual. 

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that. 

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while. 

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

-

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things! 

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone. 

Ace tried two more times to meet you. 

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter. 

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough. 

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now. 

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly. 

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First]. 

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu. 

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face. 

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for? 

-

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon. 

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations. 

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in. 

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out. 

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation. 

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance. 

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes. 

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–" 

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander. 

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts. 

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in. 

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.” 

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.  

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally." 

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement. 

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash. 

"Cater." 

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen. 

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair. 

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

-

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.” 

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt. 

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough. 

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?  

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him. 

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards. 

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?" 

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him. 

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors. 

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved. 

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day. 

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard. 

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges. 

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down. 

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants. 

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him. 

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute. 

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate. 

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes. 

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. 

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other. 

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air. 

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.” 

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear. 

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.  

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back. 

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.” 

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary. 

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago. 

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you. 

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says. 

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.” 

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed. 

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak. 

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam. 

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone. 

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking. 

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 10

Star Crossed Lover

Series Masterlist

Previous Part: True Romantic Next Part: Promotion

Word Count: 10,607 (I am SO sorry lol)

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of violence, blood, and injury. Allusions and discussion of suicide attempts. Please proceed with caution and and good judgment for your own personal mental health 💞

The drive to your team welcoming at the winery made 45 minutes of highway feel simultaneously far too long yet excruciatingly short.

After what happened in the corridor, you really didn't have much to say. The only words really spoken between you and Steve was you thanking him for getting the car door for you, then him insisting that you played your music.

After a few minutes on the road, Steve stole a few quick glances at you to try and gauge how you were really feeling, but your head was leaned all the way back against the headrest, and your eyes were always either closed or staring absentmindedly on the scenery around you.

He took no offense, in fact, he was glad that you were calm at the very least. Deep down he knew you were always feeling at least a little worse- if not a lot worse than you expressed to anyone. But like always, there was a time and place to address issues. Pulling into a parking spot at the winery and putting his car into park was not the time, nor the place.

Taking a quick peek through his rearview mirror, he could see a few special guests had already arrived, and he could only hope it would help ease the distress you never deserved to have inflicted on you.

Steve turned to you with an empathetic grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Last chance to run away?"

You turned your head to look at him with a lazy smile, and an unexpected giggle. "I can't run in these shoes."

"If it gets too overwhelming, you know I'll be here. Just tell me, I'll sneak you away for a bit of fresh air." He reminded you.

"You're making me feel like I'm about to be eaten alive" You raised your eyebrow.

Steve shook his head. "No, you're not. I've been on this team for so many years I stopped counting and even I still get overwhelmed by all of them sometimes. Things like this can be a lot even on a perfectly good day."

"I'm guessing I'll relax after a glass of wine or two" You reassured him and yourself. "It'll be like nothing ever happened, nobody even has to know."

That sent red flags raising high in Steve's head. Now he knew for sure you were in worse shape than you were letting on.

"Bug," Steve shot you a serious glare. "You can be sad, it's okay to be sad."

"I'll be sad later." You surrendered. "Right now I'm so happy and honored to be part of such a welcoming and supportive team. We're all going to have a wonderful night, and everything is going to be fine."

"Promise me right now that after this is over you'll cut the bullshit and stop telling me you're fine." Steve held out his pinky to you. All you did was narrow your eyes at him, you knew he could read you like a book far below his intelligence level, and it was equal parts endearing and frustrating. "We both know that's a lie, and we both know there's no reason for you to have to go through any of this alone anymore. We both know this is the beginning of the end of all of your suffering, and should it get worse before it gets better, you have a whole team of people who want to help you and be there for you."

"Fine." With an internal defeat, you wrapped your pinky around his. "I'll be sad later, but only if you get me a glass of wine while I socialize so I don't seem like a bitch for booking it to the bar."

"Great" Steve smiled, shaking your intertwined pinky fingers, locking in the deal. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"This is the worst deal ever." You shook your head with a smile on your face while reaching for the car door handle.

An immediate gasp full of personal offense left Steve faster than you anticipated, and you got ready for the fight you two had nearly every time you got into a car together. "Do not reach for that car door ma'am."

"Twinkles, I have two fully functioning arms and legs. I can open my own car door." You made the same argument you've made a million times before.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." Steve shook his head at you, his face full of disappointment. "Stay right there before I put the child safety lock on the passenger side of the door."

"Logistically, it'll take more time for you to get out, walk around, open my door, wait for me to get out, then close my door than if I were to just get out on my own." You laughed.

“Yeah well, logistically, this reoccurring argument takes a lot of time as well yet you always seem to want to spark it." Steve spoke as he got out of the car, his door closing behind him. Very quickly making his way to you, he opened your door and offered you his arm to help you out. "See, didn't take that long. Look, this is an unpaved parking lot and you're wearing a pretty high heel which means you could've tripped and fallen and broken an ankle, and it would've been all my fault."

"How could you possibly sleep at night?!" You agreed sarcastically as you got out of the car, and he closed the door behind you.

"I never do." Steve noted. "This is why I have insomnia."

"Too many women and too many unpaved parking lots in this world." You agreed, walking with him towards the entrance. "We really need to contact someone about this."

It didn't take long to enter the beautiful outdoor space that was far too big to be reserved just for the team. You immediately felt like you were the main character of a hallmark movie, strings of twinkling lights shined above your head, the grounds were well maintained, full of plants, tables, and even a dreamy gazebo that was also illuminated by strings of lights.

There were candles lit along pathways and atop the standing tables, booths open that served food, and no less than 20 different wine options, and a whole bunch of friendly faces that all started clapping and cheering when you walked in.

Definitely not expecting that much immediate   attention, your cheeks widened into a smile and deepened in color before your hands moved up to hide your face. It only took a few moments before you were brave enough to peak through your fingers to recognize faces you didn't quite expect to be there.

All you expected were the avengers that lived in the compound or near by, but to see faces like Thor, Clint, and even that Spider-Kid who definitely was not 21 and was out passed his bedtime was a pleasant surprise.

Another pleasant surprise was the sweet faces of your mom and dad, sister and brother in law, and a handful of your friends from back home.

Your hands dropped from your face and showed off your full toothy smile and pink cheeks that Steve loved so much it made his heart skip a beat.

It nearly dropped out of his chest and deep into his stomach when you turned to him. "Did you invite them?"

"Of course I did" Steve nodded with a cheeky smile. "I wanted you to feel more comfortable, and you deserve to be celebrated by your family too, not just ours."

Much like earlier in the day when he gave you the suit, your arms flew around him fast and tight. It was shorter this time due to the audience, but Steve still loved it nonetheless. "Thank you so much, you're so sweet."

"You're very welcome" Steve smiled. "I'll go get us some wine like I promised, but I do feel like I need to say hello to your family first considering I've been texting them to arrange this. But I'll be quick!"

"I have so many questions" You raised your eyebrow at him.

"Save them for later!" Steve told you while walking straight towards your parents.

With full trust that nothing chaotic would happen in that interaction, you scanned faces once more and realized Bucky and Nat were missing. You knew why, but it made your happy mood deflate again until Thor was the first of the bunch to walk up and introduce himself.

You made your way through Bruce, Carol, and even said hi to Maria Hill regardless of the fact that you worked with her many times before.

Steve did make it to you with a glass of wine in each of his hands between your interactions with people. "Here you go, Bugs. Not quite sure what this wine is but I told the nice girl at the bar you liked white wine so she poured you her favorite."

"You're the best." Your cheers your glass against his.

"Ugh, I know right?" He agreed sarcastically, drinking down a grin with a sip of red.

Your quick interaction with Steve made your family approach you to celebrate, but he definitely wanted you to have your time alone with them so he slipped away just as fast as he came.

Lots of hugs, lots of chatting, then lots of them pushing you away to go hang out with the Avengers.

Somewhere between Peter Parker and more time with Sam, a quick scan of the crowd had you realizing that now the Avengers were co-mingling with your family and friends. Oh, and Bucky and Natasha finally got there 45 minutes into the actual event.

Lost in conversation with Scott Lang about the most recent episode of that one sitcom he so happened to bring up, a pair of forearms wrapped around you from behind.

You pretty much expected it to be anybody but Natasha, but you were pleasantly surprised that she was already so comfortable with you. "Sorry we're late, but Rogers' mess is cleaned up and you'll never see it again. Also, you look hot in that dress."

There was no chance to thank her or apologize for the mess as she quickly galavanted off into the crowd.

Scott was pulled away from you about 10 minutes later, and your glass became empty of wine. Feeling mildly confident at this point that you had at least introduced yourself and greeted everyone there, you felt comfortable enough to go get a refill on your own.

Another heavy pour and you were back out. Conversation flowed a lot easier than expected between the groups you found yourself in. There was always something to talk about, laughter was a common occurrence, but somehow the mess in the corridor kept seeping into your mind no matter how hard you tried to push it down.

Eventually Bucky found his way to you, and somehow the comfort of one of your best friends helped quiet down all of the unnecessary noise in your brain.

In true Bucky fashion, he approached with plenty of food in hand. Setting a full wood fire pizza on the table, he pushed the whole tray towards you.

"You haven't been eating enough for someone at an event with free food" He noted.

"Hello to you too" You grinned, taking down another big gulp of wine.

"Steve told me you were worried about me." Bucky's face softened.

"I'm always worried about you, that's what friends are for." You agreed with Steve's statement.

"You know what that agent said about me tonight is nothing but water off a ducks back." He reassured you. "But what he said about you is what bothered me. That is what I take personally, and that's what I can't let anyone get away with."

You sighed. "What did you do, Buck?"

"Nat fired him, we both got him on some gnarly lists to ensure he's going to have a hard time finding another job." He explained. "I think Steve did enough damage that the dumbass will probably never reproduce, which is probably a blessing to the next generation. We didn't help him up though, he can figure that out himself."

"Don't you think that's a bit harsh?"

"If it was up to me. I wouldn't have left it at just his balls, but I digress" Bucky shrugged. "I'm really happy you're back, Buggy. I've been smiling all day knowing you're here."

"Well for what's it's worth, I'm sorry people have been saying rude things about you because of me, and I'm happy to be here to hopefully get back on the right foot. I missed you and Steve a lot these past couple of months."

"It's not your fault, so I'm not accepting that apology." Bucky denied. "But I will accept a hug because I missed you too."

"Tough crowd." You grinned before wrapping your arms around him and leaving them there for a while.

Then, he started whispering in your ear. "This was a trap I just wanted to gossip in peace"

You let out an uncontrollable laugh, starting to feel the effects the wine had on you. "What's up? What's the gossip?" You tried to whisper back but it was a little hard to get the words quietly past your smile.

"Has Steve kissed you yet?" Bucky asked in a dramatic whisper.

“No, I don't think he ever will." You denied. "But I just got back last night, give him some grace."

"I don't think he will either. He's really scared of you." He agreed with you. "Do you need me to yell at him for that? Or I can just kind've shove your faces together when I find the opportunity?"

He pulled another laugh from you. "No, it's okay. He's scared, he needs to go at his own pace."

"Have you admitted to yourself that you like him yet?"

"Unfortunately you knew that before I did, but yes, and I told him that too."

"Good, good." Bucky started to pull away from the hug, but your wrapped your arms tighter around him.

"Tell me about you and Nat now" You trapped him.

"Well I'm not a scaredy cat like Steve is so... Girlfriend."

You gasped with a smile and pulled back to observe his face. But it was obvious he wasn't lying to you, so you lit up once more. "I'm so happy for you!"

Raising your hand up for a high five, Bucky hit his metal palm against your hand.

From across the winery and under the gazebo, Steve watched this whole interaction between you and Bucky. He was pleasantly surprised when jealousy never rushed through his veins watching the two of you hug.

Thats when Steve realized how secure he felt with you now. He understood now more than ever that you and Bucky were purely platonic, and it was evident in the way you two looked at and touched each other. In fact, he even felt a sense of warmth and happiness watching you two have a secretive conversation that wasn't so slick. Maybe it would've been a little more discreet had you been a bit more sober, but he found it endearing nonetheless. He found himself feeling hopeful that soon enough the three of you really could smooth over the damage and go back to hanging out together, a notion that once felt impossible.

He was even happier when he saw the both of you take a slice of pizza, cheers, then eat together.

After that, he stopped watching. He was so content knowing that Bucky was keeping an eye on you. Maybe that's where he overestimated his false sense of security, because along with the pizza, Bucky brought you another glass of wine which only meant you were feeling sillier and more socially confident by the second.

At some point Steve fell deep into conversation with your dad, they were getting along so well, in fact, he hadn't even noticed that he spent about a whole hour and a half alone under the fairy light illuminated gazebo with him. They also didn't notice that you were getting along with the team so well it's like you were always part of the little family to begin with.

He didn't catch you and your sister flipping each other off from across the venue as often as you could, he didn't see the way you and Peter made a secret handshake, or even when you exchanged phone numbers with Bruce. He missed Sam making you laugh so hard you nearly peed your pants, then you, Nat, and Wanda disappearing to the bathroom for a solid ten minutes then coming back with your lipstick magically perfect again.

He also missed your fourth glass of wine.

But that was pretty obvious when you walked out of the bathroom and into the social event, scanning the intimate crowd to try and spot anyone to engage in conversation.

Thats when you noticed your mom batting her eyelashes and giggling in a one on one conversation with Tony, while your dad was batting his eyelashes and giggling under the gazebo with Steve.

A bit wobbly on your feet, you walked over to them and held onto the wooden entrance as you stepped up. Both of their attention was drawn to you from their spot on a bench.

You squinted your eyes at your dad. "Hello, Father."

"Daughter" He raised an eyebrow at you.

Steve didn't know where this interaction was about to go, so he observed carefully. 

"Steve, is this strange man bothering you?" You asked him.

Steve laughed as your dad reached over to you and flicked the side of your head, you remained unfazed. "Not in the slightest."

"She's drunk" Your dad told Steve while covering your ears.

"I'm not drunk, I'm silly and perhaps a bit goofy, but I am not drunk." You grabbed your dad's wrists and pulled his hands off your ears. "My sobriety should be the least of your concerns at the moment."

"Why is that?" Your dad asked.

"Tony Stark is flirting with your wife." You pointed to your mom and Tony.

Steve followed your pointed finger and saw that you were actually right, and that made him laugh. "That's really concerning."

Your dad sighed. "So what? I have to fight Iron Man now? You chose to be a superhero and now I have to fight Iron Man for your own Mother?"

"Get used to it." You stuck your tongue out at him.

He stuck his tongue out right back at you before turning to Steve. "Please excuse me, I need to rescue my wife."

"By all means" Steve agreed.

When your dad walked off and you were alone with Steve, you sat down right next to him and pulled his arm around your shoulders before you closed your eyes and rested your head on him.

You didn't see his smile as he pulled you as close as he could and rubbed the top of your arm. "How are you doing?"

"Cold, tired, feet hurt." You mumbled. "Drunk"

"I thought you said you weren't drunk?" Steve quipped happily.

“Well, you're not my dad so you get to know the truth." You snuggled into him. "More truth, you smell really nice, and I just need to sit here for a little while."

A giggle escaped Steve from your confessions. "Are you having fun?"

"More fun than I thought" You nodded. "I'm so warm and fuzzy inside. It's been so long since I've felt happy like this."

That wiped the smile clean off of Steve's face. "I'm so happy that you're happy. It'll keep getting better, I'll make sure of it."

"I wish it could just be like this all the time." The feelings you never talk about spilling out of your mouth. "Life could be so good, and I really love it sometimes. I just don't know how to not take what other people do to me personally. You and Bucky are so good at that."

"You're good at everything you do, and life is about to get so much better for you, sweet girl. I promise."

"I'm trying really hard to believe you." You smiled. "I probably sound sad, but I'm happy right now. 'M always happy when I'm with you."

"You can stay with me however long you want, I'm happy with you too." He squeezed your shoulder.

"How did you guys plan such an elaborate event when nobody even knew if I would agree to be an avenger or if I would even be back at the compound today?" You asked.

"We used magic and our intuition" He said with a smile.

"You are so magical" Your alcohol influenced mind marveled. "And who in my family have you been communicating with because that's so magical"

"Your sister and your mom" Steve giggled at your question. "Your family is very nice and really fun to be around."

"Did my dad tell you embarrassing stories about me?"

"Surprisingly, no he didn't."

"Good, good. Let's keep it that way."

Closing your eyes, you let the wine and Steve's body heat relax all your muscles and wash the tension away. Unsure of how long you had actually been there, there was a point in which you could feel Steve shift to look at an approaching person.

An uncontrollable laugh escaped your intoxicated mind as whoever Steve was looking at sat on the other side of you and snuggled into your body the same way you were snuggled up to Steve, but for some reason you still didn't want to open your eyes.

"Wow, this is lovely" The voice said. It sounded like Sam, but you couldn't be too sure.

"Hey, I want in on this too" Sounded loudly from far away. Footsteps came running, and Maria plopped onto Sam's lap sideways. She kicked her legs over your and Steve's laps.

Slowly but surely, more Avengers, family and friends ended up under the gazebo with you and Steve. The cuddle pile grew with Scott and Nat, and lasted longer than it probably should've.

You were fed enough food by pretty much everyone while you all drunkenly told stories and laughed so hard that your stomach hurt that you eventually sobered up.

Once you were sober again, you realized just how fast time had flown by and were sad to hug your parents goodbye. You're pretty sure your mom hugged and your dad fist-bumped nearly every single person at the event, but that was neither here nor there.

Eventually everyone said goodbye, and by the time you got back into Steve's car it was already almost midnight. And by the time you got home and into Steve's bed, all of your energy was more than depleted. Social battery was in the negative, but you felt like you had been plugged into a high speed charger when he got under the covers next to you.

"How are you feeling?" That seemed to be everyone's favorite question to ask you.

"I kind've feel like you right now" With your eyes closed, your laid on your back with one arm above your head and the other resting over your hoodie on top of your belly.

Steve giggled "what is that supposed to mean?"

"I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Any particular reason why?"

"I ate too much, drank too much wine. I'm bloated but happy so it's a small price to pay." You explained.

"Well if you're going to throw up, aim in that direction" Steve smiled and pointed in the opposite direction of himself. "Are you still drunk? Do you need some water?"

"No I'm not, I'm okay" Your smile barely ghosted your lips. "Just need some sleep."

Steve reached over and pulled some blankets over your frame before poking your cheek. "Remember what you promised me earlier?"

Your eyes opened to look at him. "I feel better, really. I do."

Steve sighed. "You don't even want to talk about it?"

"What is there to say?" You questioned. "All the same shit, different day. There's nothing I can do about that anymore."

"When this all first started, you were getting sent to my office nearly every day for fighting back, but tonight you kind've froze up. Why?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone to do that to me when I was with you." You answered. "But it's done now, it's fine."

"We both know it's not done" Steve's face softened. "And avoiding it doesn't make it go away."

"Would you like me to rewind time and kick him in the balls instead?"

"No, I just want you to know you can talk to me." Steve emphasized.

"I'm pissed off." You admitted. "I'm always in a state of being angry that this is the environment that I have to learn to thrive in every day, but I've also reached a state of emotional exhaustion that makes me feel like I have no room left to be even more angry than I already am. I've hit max capacity, so I'm choosing to stay as calm as I can because out of all the kicks and punches I've thrown, none of them have worked before. I have no reason to believe it'll work now."

“It's not fair." Steve huffed like kid.

"It never has been." You agreed with a shrug. "But you don't need to hold onto that anger for me. I'm trying to let go of it and move on."

"I'll let go of my anger in the form of making change." Steve told you, now feeling brave enough to pull you close to him.

You snuggled up close, your head on his bicep and your arm holding him gently. "I'm an avenger now. That's all the change I know how to make at the moment."

"I'm so proud of you" he practically whispered. "But I've never met anyone like you before."

"You really need to work on providing context before sentences that might hurt my feelings"

Steve chuckled at your bluntness. "You're telling me that you're happy, but you're also telling me that you're sad. Both of those statements feel genuine, so I don't really know where your mind is."

"Well then imagine how complex and confusing it is to be me" You emphasized. "Never in my whole life have I felt more alone while also feeling more loved than ever. I'm happy and sad, I just accomplished something most people never will by becoming an avenger yet I've also never felt more like a loser. This is the first time I've ever been relentlessly bullied but it's also the first time I've ever been a superhero so I guess the juxtaposition of my emotions is just turning my brain into scrambled eggs."

"Have you tried compartmentalization?" Steve offered with a grain of salt.

"I tried that once, I think I created too many emotional categories and got overwhelmed." You smiled. "But I'm a Gemini, so these complexities have been written in the stars for me since the moment I was brought onto the earth. I think I was born for the very purpose of the universe testing to see if overwhelming contradictory emotions could physically kill a human being."

"One of my greater purposes in life is to protect people against the things that could kill them, so you're in good hands right now." Steve slowly rubbed your back. "Overwhelm will not be your cause of death. Actually, nothing will be. I'm trying to convince Banner to make clones of us to be kept in cryofreeze that way when we die of old age, new versions of us can just be thawed out so we can be best friends forever."

"Spoken like a true cancer" You laughed, patting his chest. "Did I uphold my end of the promise?"

"We can call it even, but I'll always be concerned"

"Even Stevens!" You sleepily enthused.

"Are you rhyming or was that a reference to something?" You could hear his amusement.

"Both, you're a little too old to understand that one."

"That's really rude" Steve faked offense.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue, Twinkles. I know you think you didn't do much, but it means a lot to me when I know I have someone on my team."

"I'll always be on your team, you've always been worth the fight." Steve reminded you.

Those words comforted you enough to ignore your very full stomach and fall into a deep sleep in the hold of your favorite soldier's big protective arms. Unfortunately the universe loved to hate you, because you only got your share of the superhero until about 4am when his phone started ringing effectively waking both of you up.

A few curse words slipped out of his mouth in complaint before he reached for his phone and answered it. You didn't pay much attention to the phone call itself, but you did find it within your lack of  consciousness to move nearly your entire body onto his in attempt to keep him forever. Snuggling into him belly to belly, his hand found the back of your head and played with your hair as you slipped in and out of sleep.

By the time the phone call ended, you had effectively caged him between the mattress and your body. Realizing what you had done, Steve's cheeks burned as he let out a sigh.

"You can't go." You sleepily mumbled.

"You and I both know I don't really have any say in that." Steve reminded you apologetically.

"Says who? We all have free will."

"Unfortunately, the president of the United States. Apparently he requested to meet me for an urgent conversation about something that's happening somewhere." Steve explained.

"Damnit." You yawned. "I think the president has me beat in importance."

"I think the two of you are pretty equal in importance." Steve pondered. "The only difference is that people might die if I don't get out of bed."

"My soul will die if you get up, but it's fine, I understand." You joked dramatically.

"You're making it very hard for me" Steve complained, wrapping his arms around your back and squeezing you gently.

"If you're hard that's all the more reason to stay in bed." You joked, knowing damn well Steve wouldn't take a naughty joke like that very well.

And you were right, because the gasp that left his mouth was immediate and visceral. You didn't need to look at his face to know his cheeks were flushed pink and red hot. Your laugh was also pretty immediate and visceral as he used his body to flip you over onto the bed and propped himself up on his arm to lean over you. Pointing a finger at you like a dog, he had one word to say. "Bad!"

You laughed even harder as he shook his head at you. "I'm going to get up and get ready to meet the president, you stay here and think about what you just said."

Laying in bed alone, Steve eventually came to say goodbye to you. It was always sad to let each other go, but also an often occurrence. But this time he was hesitant to leave, of course you both knew why. Last night wouldn't be a one time event, but he encouraged you to stay close to Bucky, Nat and Sam as often as you could, and emphasized that there would be no timeline to his departure so he didn't know when he would be back. He also made it clear that should you need to defend yourself, you should do so with no hesitation.

Luckily, all was pretty smooth for a while. Your friendship with Nat bloomed faster than you'd ever expect it would, so for the first week Steve was gone the two of you were practically attached at the hip. Nat and Bucky spent a whole day helping you move from your old apartment up into the Avengers sector. Though it felt a bit pointless moving within the same building, the team felt better about keeping a protective eye on you when you weren't floors away from them. It was a nice change of pace to have a sense of community around you again.

The second week that Steve was gone, you tried to focus on building individual friendships with the team members outside of your little social circle. Your therapist also encouraged you to try and be brave enough to walk through the compound with a confident attitude so nobody would fuck with you, so you tried a few times on your own, a few times were nothing more than anxiety inducing, and a few times got you confronted with hostility which lead to 3 more agents getting fired by Natasha.

By the third week you finally got a phone call from Steve. It was nice to hear his voice and catch up and hear about what he had been up to for all this time, and it was especially nice to hear that he was wrapping up his work and he would be home soon. That same day you got to visit Jane and Luca over lunch at one of your favorite restaurants, then they helped you pick out a few new things for your new apartment.

Most kids acted as if a home store was cruel and unusual, but Luca was very opinionated about rugs and throw pillows. He even convinced you to get a new pair of sneakers at the clothing store he wanted to go to across the street from the compound.

Lots of therapy, lots of solo workouts, lots of team building, you were starting to feel mentally and physically stronger.

Strong enough to keep walking alone, and pushing forward no matter how hard it was.

When Steve landed on the runway after 3 whole weeks and a handful of days of being gone, he was so relieved to be back home. Without even making it off the jet he was already fantasizing about shaving the beard he unintentionally grew after forgetting his razor at home, a long shower and a long nap since it was only early in the afternoon and definitely not bedtime yet.

His fantasies continued as he stepped off the jet and into the building. Now he knew he wanted to see you before he knocked out for that nap he desperately needed. There would be some snacks at some point, and definitely no pants after the got out of the shower.

The sound of his boots on the sleek floor actually brought him joy knowing each step was one closer to you.

Like most fantasies, what he hoped and dreamed of was far from reality. Especially when a loud alarm sounded in the sector of the compound he was headed towards.

Stopping in his tracks and cringing at the sound, he waited for the code and location to be called out before springing into action. It could've been as simple as a knocked over vial in the lab, or complex as an invasion of an enemy. But when the code called out for aggressive physical conflict in the gym, Steve's heart sank and he started running as fast as he could.

He didn't want to believe it was you, but he couldn't be naive either. His racing heart and even faster legs carried him there faster than anyone else could. As he entered the doorway into the compound gym, he could hear the footsteps of a few sets of feet trailing behind him, but waiting for others arrival wouldn't slow him down.

Especially not when he entered the gym and it was completely empty besides two people, his heart sank even further when he recognized it was you, and the number on the back of the uniform of the other person was 212. Harvey.

No less than a billion racing thoughts came sped through Steve's mind, and none of the billion came together to form any good ideas. He swore all he saw was a blinding white and all he heard was his own heart beat in his ears as he sprinted through the equipment to get to where the altercation was happening.

The two of you looked like a cartoon before he went into fully protective mode. As he weaved through punching bags and stair climbers, he couldn't pick out where your body started and Harvey's ended. There might as well have been a big dust cloud around you, with puffs of air pluming out.

The consequences of putting himself in the middle of a fight wasn't even a thought in Steve's mind as he jumped over a treadmill and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and tried to pull you backwards, far away from Harvey.

Unfortunately, you were a little too preoccupied trying to save your own life to notice the alarm was sounding or that anyone was coming to save you, let alone Steve who you didn't even know was home yet. Assuming it was another attacker, one of Harvey's buddies helping him take you down, you forcefully thrashed and kicked yourself out of the Steve's grip. Adrenaline clouded your judgement, flight was nowhere to be seen as fight took over your every thought, you turned around and swung your fist right at him to earn yourself more time to knock Harvey down. You know you made pretty harsh contact considering there was a shooting pain buzzing through your knuckles, but at this point there was pain jolting through nearly every part of your body, so this wasn't going to slow you down.

Still not realizing what you had done, you watched Natasha sprint into the room and full body tackle Harvey to the ground, followed by a few other commanding officers, Sam, and Bucky. Trusting their ability to deal with Harvey and not let him touch you again, you turned back around to deal with whoever else was.

Fist balled, ready for a second swing, you looked up at the targets face, and devastation immediately took over the whole of your emotions. Steve blocked your punch and caught your wrist mid swing.

"Hey hey hey, it's me. It's just me" Steve frantically tried to get you to stop.

"Oh my god" You whispered to yourself as you realized you punched Steve right on his cheekbone, hard enough a bruise was already forming.

He watched you come to the realization of what you had done, your wrist was shaking in his hand, even more so as he loosened his grip and gently placed your arm down to your side.

You looked battered and bruised, but when he looked back at Harvey, it was clear that you had won this fight.

Looking at your wide eyes, he could tell you were in shock, and coming down from the copious amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins. He knew all too well what that felt like. Guilt, shame, the full effects of pain from the injuries sustained, the tremors and how weak your knees and thighs would get. He's been in your position far too many times before, he knew it was the worst feeling in the world.

Especially when your cheek was oozing blood, your arms were scraped up and bruised. Steve could tell the fight started with an unfair advantage.

Then, tears started pooling in your eyes as you looked at Steve's face and you opened your mouth but no words would come out.

"It's okay." Steve told you, very slowly reaching out to put his hands on your shoulders trying to snap your brain out of fight mode. "You're okay."

A tear fell down your cheek and your eyebrows furrowed before you muttered a quiet. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know" Steve shook his head. "You were just trying to protect yourself. You're okay, buggy."

You looked over your shoulder and saw Harvey on the ground. His face was a lot bloodier than yours. With eyes swollen shut and his nose definitely not in its usual form, you felt like a monster.

A sob escaped your throat, and your shaky hand flew up to cover your mouth before your eyes squeezed shut. "What did I do?"

"Everything is going to be fine." Steve reminded you, pulling your attention back to him.

His bruised face only made your sobs escape faster and your heart pound even faster. "I'm so sorry, Steve, I-I didn't mean to. I didn't know it was you."

"I know you didn't, you didn't even know I was home." Steve reasoned with you. "It's okay, just take some deep breaths for me."

You shook your head, still panting from the physical exertion. "I can't."

"You can't?" He questioned.

"I have to go." You took a big step backwards, Steve's arms fell back to his sides.

More concern than Steve ever thought was humanly possible took over his mind. "Where do you need to go?"

"I don't know." You sobbed. "I just need to go. I'm sorry"

Another two scared steps backwards, then you bolted out of the gym. Steve started making strides towards you, fully prepared to follow you but Sam approached him and stuck his arm out.

"You have to let her go on her own." Hand flat to Steve's chest, he stopped him. "She needs time to calm down and come to terms with what just happened. Trust that if she needs something, she will call you."

Steve's shoulders deflated. He wanted to go help, convince you to see a medic and have an emergency meeting with your therapist, but he also knew Sam was probably right.

With a big deep breath, Steve assessed the state of the gym. Realizing one of the treadmills was still on and going, he reached over the machine to stop it. Then a few commands slipped through his mouth while trying to organize his own brain.

He needed the security camera footage of the incident, he needed the alarm to stop, he needed a lab clean up crew to get rid of all the blood on the gym floor, and he needed Harvey handcuffed to the hospital bed he was bound to end up in. He was too tired to do any of that on his own, but luckily others were eager to get this taken care of too.

Just as he was no longer needed, Bucky approached and squeezed his shoulder.

"What's that thing on your face?" Bucky's nose scrunched up.

"She got me on accid-"

"I'm not talking about the bruise. I didn't even know you were capable of growing a beard" Bucky commented.

Narrowing his eyes, Steve glared at Bucky. "I forgot my razor."

"Respectfully," Bucky stated looking him up and down. "You look like shit, Pal."

"Thanks, Buck." Steve sarcastically smiled. He knew he looked disheveled and tired.

"Really, I think 66 more years of sleep would look good on you." He backhandedly tapped Steve's chest. "Go take a nap."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep after she ran off like that." Steve sighed.

"We'll take care of her." Bucky reassured him. "We can always wake you up if need be, but her and Nat have grown really close. She has a lot of people in her court."

After about 10 more minutes of arguing with Bucky, he decided to just let him win under the conditions that he would keep him updated when he found out any new information.

Steve showered, shaved, and put on sweatpants and a shirt before getting into bed. He didn't want to wear pants, but he did it for your sake, just in case you came to find him. Realizing it had been about an hour since the incident, he tried calling you just to see if you would pick up, but he wasn't shocked when you didn't. So he sent you a text letting you know he was here for you when you were ready, then tried his hardest to get his mind to calm down enough to fall asleep.

It took an unfortunately short amount of time, as the second he laid down sleep hit him harder than your fist against his face, and he knocked out for so long that he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, and it was now pitched black in his bedroom.

"Hello?" Steve mumbled into his phone.

"Jesus Christ, good morning sleeping beauty." Bucky said.

"Weren't you the one who told me to get some sleep?" Steve poked.

"Not important, glad you're back from the dead. I have some updates for you. Are you awake enough to process the words I'm speaking to you"

“I will be once I'm filled with rage over this situation again. What's up?"

"The security footage was recovered and I finally got to see it. It's enough evidence to land Harvey in jail for assault, so that's what Natasha is currently perusing."

Steve sat up in bed and reached for the lamp on the bedside table, blinking his eyes to adjust as it clicked on. "What happened?"

"She was alone in the gym, running on the treadmill and minding her own business. 212 saw her in there on her own, snuck in through the back door and yanked her off the treadmill. Her foot slipped off the end of the machine so he pushed her forward and scraped her face and arms against the moving belt, which is why she was bleeding. He was screaming some things at her but none of it is very clear. He tried kicking her a few times but she was able to get up and try to push him off of her, he persisted and she got fed up after he managed to get a swing at her collar bone and kicked her chin. She just... started swinging at him and didn't stop until you and Nat got them away from each other." Bucky explained.

"If this video can get him in jail, that would be great. But it can't be used if it's incriminating against her. We can't have that happen." Steve sighed.

"If anything, it's proof of self defense. You know Nat would never let anything bad happen to her. None of us would." Bucky reminded Steve. "It looked really painful on her end though. She ended up going to medical, but they released her a couple hours ago. JARVIS is telling me she's hanging out on the roof."

"Think I should go up there?" Steve asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, already knowing the answer.

"Well I don't necessarily think she should be alone for much longer."

"I'll talk to you later then."

The call ended and Steve stood in front of the mirror to fix his hair, while trying his hardest to ignore how tender and swollen his cheek was now. Before making it up to the private roof access, Bucky sent him the video and it took everything out of him to not kill Harvey with his own two hands. But a deep breathing exercise helped him regulate his anger again.

When he got up there and made it to the top, he saw you laying beneath the stars on a blanket with your headphones on, quietly crying to yourself and hoping that the moon understood your pain.

You noticed Steve immediately, and took your headphones off before sitting up as he quietly sat down next you. Trying your hardest to be brave, your lip wobbled trying to contain the new wave of emotion you felt. No words needed to be exchanged as you gently reached up and cupped his bruised cheek into your palm. There was a physical pain blossoming in your chest as he wrapped you up into his arms, but butterflies fluttered in his stomach as you let one of your arms keep him close, and your hand stayed over his cheek.

You cried tucked into his neck for a little while as he rubbed your back and simply let you feel your feelings. After a little while he heard your small broken voice.

"I'm so sorry." You apologized again, bravely pulling away and moving your hand to inspect the damage you did to his face. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"It's okay, Bugs. I'm fine. It was a dumb move on my part to grab you like that, if I was you I would've punched me too." Steve responded sincerely, taking in the burn-like scabs on your face down near your jaw. "Are you okay?"

"Could've been a lot worse." You nodded with a sniffle, really trying to convince yourself that you were okay. "I don't remember what happened, it all happened so fast I can't even recall specifics. I got scared and didn't want to hurt anyone else so I ran. I'm still trying to come down from that."

"I saw footage from the security camera, it wasn't good, Bug." Steve broke the news to you softly. "You did what you needed to do, and it was all within reason. There mere fact that you walked away with a few scrapes and bruises is a miracle."

"Did he sneak up on me?" You asked, Steve simply nodded in return with a sympathetic look on his face. "That's what I thought must've happened, that's also probably why I punched you so hard."

"If you need to see the video to help you process, I'll show it to you. But right now, I think it's best to just try and wind down."

In agreement, you made yourself comfortable next to Steve. You sat sideways nearly on his lap, with your legs thrown over his. His arm pulled you into his torso, and you rested your head onto your shoulder. Steve noticed your tiny winces as you adjusted to the new found pain and soreness in your body, but he tried his best to avoid all the spots he knew were injured.

“You saw a doctor right? Is everything okay?" He questioned, genuinely concerned.

You nodded. "Everything is pretty surface level, but apparently being slammed onto some heady gym equipment can bruise a rib."

"Bruised ribs are so painful" Steve's face scrunched up. "You're one tough cookie."

"I'm sorry this is what you came home to after being away for so long."

Steve was looking at you, admiring the way you looked under the moonlight, yet you couldn't keep your eyes off the stars. "I wish you didn't feel the need to apologize for things that aren't your fault."

"I'm working on that, and I don't anymore for most people. But for you? A million apologies wouldn't be enough. You're too sweet for this kind of nonsense."

"You are too, but out of all people you should know that I understand." Steve stressed. "In a lot of ways, we're very similar, Bug. I know what it feels like to be in the position you're in right now. You don't need to explain anything or apologize to me. I get it."

You tried to understand his words, but you really didn't. For a moment, you almost got upset with him for implying that anyone would treat him the way you've been treated around the compound. Steve was one of the most respected people in the world, you could barely earn the respect of a new hire agent. "I don't see anyone rushing to try and physically harm you for going on a run." You wiped tears from under your eyes.

"No, maybe not here." Steve agreed with you. "But way back when I first got the serum, I struggled really hard to earn respect from anyone around me."

"I have to admit, it's hard to imagine anyone disrespecting you."

Steve grinned and carefully brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your eyes. "I went from a 90 pound asthmatic who didn't have the strength to complete one push up to a human science experiment. I proved myself the very moment after I got the serum and it still wasn't enough for a lot of people. Thats why I was paraded around on that USO tour for so long, nobody thought I could handle fighting a war."

"You looked really cute in those booty shorts" you sniffled.

Steve chuckled at your statement. "Stop making me laugh when I'm trying to teach you a valuable lesson."

"I'd rather jump off this roof than not make you laugh" you smiled despite the contradictory tears.

"The point of this conversation is actually to make sure you don't jump off the roof." Steve informed you.

Your eyes moved from the stars to his eyes, they were both as equally beautiful and bright. "Is that what you're worried about? I would never-"

"Quite honestly, yeah, I am." He cautiously continued with a slight nod. "We see a more on a daily basis than anyone should see in their whole life, that alone is grounds for struggle but when you factor in everything else, I don't think that concern is far off."

Your tears fell faster at his statement. As a sad sob slipped past your throat and your eyes found the sky once more, Steve's heart broke knowing he hit the nail on the head. He also knew you wouldn't open up if you felt defensive about it, so he needed to take the scenic route to get you there.

"What's your favorite part about the stars?" Steve asked. "You seem to love looking at the sky when you're sad."

"Looking for constellations helps me stay calm and get out of my head" You explain with a sniffle. "They're hard to see in the city but it's better here upstate."

Steve looked up. "It's amazing to me that you can find constellations. All I see is each individual star."

You pointed at the brightest light. "That's Saturn, and these stars right below it make up the Aquarius constellation."

"It's crazy that the universe is so vast."

"That's another reason why I like the stars so much. With so much happening out there, it's a good reminder that everything down here is so tiny and insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe. Sometimes that makes me feel like I can keep going strong, like one day none of this will even matter."

"You really believe in astrology? I go back and forth. The stars are so far away, I struggle to understand how they can control so much of who we are." Steve pondered.

"I do believe in it." You nodded. "The moon controls our oceans, the tide is physical proof. Our bodies are made up of 60% water, and all of the other elements we're made up of were formed in the stars over the course of billions of years. It's hard for me to believe they don't have a say in what's going on down here."

"I've never thought of it that way." Steve grinned. "It's really magical when you put it like that."

"Maybe you're made up of more stardust than the average human considering your eyes seem to twinkle like they're already up in space." You noted. "It's magical, but it's also equally devastating to feel like the bad parts of your life are written into the stars."

"We need the not so great stuff to help us understand how amazing the good stuff is. Can't see the stars if the sun is out." For some reason, his perspective brought you comfort. It felt like the hug he kept you wrapped up in. "Maybe that's always why I've thought so highly of you. Despite the darkness you've continued to show excellence, and shine brighter than the rest."

"Then maybe I'm a supernova because sometimes I really do feel like I'm going to explode." You giggled at your own realization.

"Even then you'd still shine a million times brighter than the sun!" Steve enthused, big smile on his face. "But don't explode, black holes are terrifying."

"I won't. That's why I came up here. Avengers only access, don't have to worry about anybody else or the damn sprinklers."

"When I was in the Army, drawing was my version of looking at the stars. It was the only way I could really get my mind to quiet down." Steve explained. "Back then, I was miserable. All the army men hated me, I had recently lost my mom, and I thought I killed Bucky. The war was so horrific I didn't think I'd ever be able to recover from what I had to do or what I had to see, and I felt even worse for the innocent lives taken in the whole ordeal. So, when I knew that I could end it... I did."

"You're a hero because of it." You agreed, feeling a bit confused by his words.

"No, you don't understand." Steve denied. "The plane crash that got me stuck in the ice? I could've gotten out. There was a chance for me to jump out of the plane, but I didn't. I didn't see the point."

Your heart sank at the implication of what he was confessing to you, and all it wanted to make you do is just hold him tight and weep forever. But you knew that wasn't the point, you knew you just needed to keep listening.

"I can't say that I regret it, because had that never happened I would've never gotten to enjoy living a life I never imagined, and I would've never met you, or the Avengers." He explained. "But it made my life far more complicated, and at least once a day I imagine what my life would've been like had I just gotten myself to safety, and that imagining- the 'what's ifs?' is something I'd never wish upon anyone. I do know how you feel, and much like you know the moon controls the ocean, I know things will get better. All you need to do is believe it."

Your eyes momentarily squeezed shut to rid them of the tears blurring your vision. They dripped down your cheeks as you shook your head, and his brave vulnerability made you realize that you always loved him, but in this moment you had fully and irrevocably had fallen for him. It was as if there was no more questions in your mind, you couldn't even understand anymore why you hadn't been with him way before this whole mess. It consumed every single one of your emotions, you simply couldn't ignore it anymore.

"I would never, Rogers, never." You confirmed with a cry. "I can't lie, I've been pushed to thinking about it, but it made me realize that I couldn't do that to you, my parents, Luca. Nobody. I love you so much, and I really hate to hear that, but I'm really glad you're here."

"Maybe this is what was written in the stars." Steve reached his hand up and used his thumb to gently swipe tears off your cheeks. "Maybe all of this was meant to happen so that this moment, right now could teach you that no matter what happens, you'll always have people to catch you at the bottom should you feel like you have nowhere else to go."

"Or maybe the lesson is that the idea of our existences happening at the same time is so unlikely that we have no choice but to listen to the universe." You said quietly, almost coming to that realization in real time. "Maybe you were always meant to be mine."

Steve's heart nearly pounded out of his chest as you spoke those words, then, as you looked up at him and closed the distance between your lips, he felt like a supernova too. He was burning hotter and brighter than ever before when your soft lips connected to his, his chest was mere seconds away from exploding when you pulled away to examine his shocked face.

Trying to process what had just happened, the sound of your giggles at his twinkling eyes and blushed cheeks grounded him and pulled him right back down to earth.

"Wait hold on..." Steve clutched his chest.

"Are you going to throw up?" You asked, wiping the last of your tears off your face as your smile took over.

"I think I need to sit down." He stated, finally making eye contact with you.

Your laugh boomed once again. "You're already sitting!"

"Okay, then I need to lay down." He said, readjusting to lay down on your blanket.

Your smile persisted as you laid down next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm, your hands intertwined. "This is better than you throwing up."

"Wait..." Steve spoke, looking up at the moon.

You turned your head to look at him. "What?"

"Again" He insisted, turning his head towards you too.

It took a lot of effort to contain your smile enough to kiss him, but you did, and it felt just as right as the first time. Keeping it short and sweet, it didn't take long for Steve to point to the stars.

"I like these bitches, they're being very nice to me right now" He smiled.

Admitting to how hard you laughed at his statement would simply be too embarrassing, but it was hard enough to yell at him for further irritating your bruised rib. "Now you can't get mad at me for calling you Twinkles."

"You can call me whatever you want, Love Bug."

Butterflies in your stomach erupted in flutters at his choice of nickname. "A cancer and a Gemini, who would've thought?"

Steve shrugged. "It works."

"What now?" You asked with a sigh, you didn't know if you were asking Steve or the stars.

"You fight your ass off in a trial against Harvey, you help us out in an investigation on him and everyone that's been tormenting you, you continue doing what you're amazing at, and you keep that beautiful smile on your face because all of this is about to change." Steve explained. "This was the fuel we needed to start a fire around the compound. It's enough to light the whole place up and change the status quo. By the end of it, it's going to improve the lives of every agent in the program, that's my vow to you."

All his words sounded appealing and genuine enough to believe them.

"Pinky promise?" You raised your pinky on the hand that wasn't already holding his.

"Pinky promise" He connected his pinky with yours, then kissed the back of his hand... then your forehead... then your lips.

He knew confidently, now more than ever, that his love for you transcended time and space. The laws of life, love, nature, and even the stars never applied to the connection you two shared.

Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was coincidence that the boy born in 1918 had a chance to fall so deeply in love with a girl who didn't live in the same era as him.

Or maybe everything did happen for a reason. Maybe your life was already mapped out in the stars, and all you had to do was find the right constellations.

You would always have infinite questions about the intricacies of the universe, but out of all the answers you are confident in, you knew two things for certain.

Steve was your North Star. So long as you had him to guide you, you always knew you'd be on the correct path. You'd always get where you needed to go, and he would always be there for you regardless of what season of life you were in.

He was your star crossed lover.

Next Part: Promotion

Taglist: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[dokoni-mo]

Crave: Part Four || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: you're his now, but what next?

Mild NSFW

word count: 4544

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, or at least becoming one, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, praise, kissing, Michael is in this

minors dni // pls read warnings!!

a/n: look ik i said i'd finish KNY first and i AM working on it i promise but i am down atrocious for willy rn and i cant help it,, this story and writing willy is also really interesting to me sooo yeah :)) taglist is still open, enjoy! (also disclaimer: i do not condode this type of relationship irl, this is just my take on being with peepaw)

part one // part two // part three

~~~

Sundays were always William's favorite days of the week. Something about them just always felt slow to him and comforting.

They were always placed perfectly in the midst of his busy schedule. On Sundays, nothing was required of the brit. He was able to take his shoes off and relax, knowing that the work week was still away from him. The calm before the storm, if you will. Back when he was still married to Clara, he would make a treat of them. Make his family a traditional American breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, everything.

Not because he loved them, no. Of course not. It was for himself. He liked making himself a banquet. Living in America for so long, he found that he rather enjoyed it's food. The slight chubbiness in his stomach and thighs showed for it. If it were up to him, William would have the whole feast to himself. His family only tagged along because they lived in his house. And he allowed it to keep his façade. Kept them happy and content for a while, too. Shut them up.

But, this time was different. This time, making breakfast on a Sunday morning was special. Because he was making it for you.

And you were the only thing William ever truly loved.

William woke that morning as the sunlight of that beautiful Utah morning crept in through his window, hitting his pale eyes to wake him up. The brit often woke up early before the sun had even made her first appearance, but allowed himself to sleep in just a hair that day. How could he not? When he had the most adorable little bunny in the world curled up in his arms? And potentially disturb them? He wouldn't ever dream of it.

He kept his promise to you in that he didn't leave you throughout the night whilst you slept. He wouldn't even dream of that either. William had one night stands in the past, yes, but you were far above that.

He loved you. He would never leave you.

Just like how you'd never leave him.

Blinking the grogginess of his sleep away from his eyes, William took a deep, long breath of the cold morning air through his nose. Looking down, he could see that you were still asleep. You must've turned around while you were sleeping, because you were facing towards the older man now. William's arms were still snug around your waist, and your little hands were gently laid on the expanse of his scarred chest. Last night must've really wiped you out, since you were still snoring softly before him, your hair partially covering your precious eyes.

William smiled at the sight of you, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face and gently press a kiss to your forehead.

It's alright, little one. Rest all you like. You're safe with William.

The safest place you could be is in his arms.

Don't you agree?

William pressed a few more soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks as he watched you sleep next to him, careful to be quiet and light so he didn't wake you. You were so adorable. So perfect. Just having you next to him made the man feel warm inside, made him smile genuinely.

You were the only one that had ever had that affect on him. Even his ex-wife couldn't accomplish that. She had only been easy for William. He knew that in order to be normal, he would have to take a spouse eventually. Clara was just the only person available at the time. And, to add on, there was also the accident that was Michael. It was only natural for William to marry her. It's what a normal man would do. And his past flings were only just that. Flings. Something to keep him entertained for a night or two.

Clara was never his bunny. Never. She was never even close. Nor any of the other people he had been with.

You were his bunny. And no one else.

And that's why he loved you. For real. Loved you.

Just like you loved him.

As much as William would've loved to shower you with kisses until you woke up, he knew that you would be hungry when you did. It was rather rude of him to promise you dinner last night, then never give it to you. Poor thing, you must be famished. He was sorry, bunny, he was. William always wanted to take care of you. He was just so, so excited to finally have you. Get you all alone with him. Make you his, once and for all. You enjoyed yourself, though, didn't you? Oh, heaven knows William sure did. You were the best he had ever had. Perhaps it wasn't all that bad now, was it? But, still. William couldn't have his bunny go hungry. That was just mean. William could never be mean to you, bunny. Never.

So, allow him to make it up to you.

Leaning forward one last time, William pressed a long, drawn-out kiss to your soft cheek, his eyes lingering on your sweet face a moment longer as he pulled away.

"I'll be right back, bunny. Don't go anywhere." He whispered to you, careful as to not wake you up.

Pulling away from you and out of the covers, it was much colder for William in the cool air of his room without you next to him. You must've felt colder as well, considering how you groaned in your sleep and rolled onto your other side. You had pulled a bundle of the covers along with you, holding it close to your chest as you settled again.

William couldn't help but feel a little sad. He wanted to be those covers.

But, he had to have patience. Michael wouldn't be back from his mother's until tomorrow morning. William still had at least 24 more hours with you. After he made sure you had some good food and water in you, you and him could cuddle all he wanted.

Perhaps even more. Perhaps he could show you a few more fun games you and him could play.

If you were up for it, of course.

Before leaving his room, William crept over to his old wooden dresser and opened up its drawers without a sound. Carefully, William pulled out his favorite pajama pants and sleep shirt and pulled them on, relieving him of just being in his underwear. While he was nearly certain you didn't have any plans of waking up anytime soon, William still left one of his shirts on the end of his bed for you just in case. Shit. What if you did wake up? While he was cooking? You creeping down the stairs all tired in his shirt. It would look so good on you too. It would surely be too large to fit you properly, but not long enough to cover your lower half in any meaningful way. So cute... Come here, won't you, bunny? That's it, good. Lean up against the counter for William. Don't you and him just fit together so perfectly? William's big hands feel so good on you, don't they? Doesn't his fingers fit so well over your cute little butt? Precious bunny, don't mind him if he just had to-

Goddamn it William. Focus. (Y/N) is hungry. This could wait until later.

Giving your sleeping form one last look, William disappeared out of his room and into his kitchen.

~~~

Mr. Afton came to realize that he wasn't too sure of what you liked and didn't. Even after pestering Michael for so long about your interests, and snooping on your friends and classmates over the security cams in the Diner, William was never able to pick up on your food preferences. This was fine. He would learn what you liked and didn't over time, now that you and him were an item. This was the first time he had cooked for you, sure. But it wouldn't be the last.

You and him had a whole lifetime to explore together now. Surely he would learn your diet over time. He wouldn't be a good partner to you if he didn't.

William ultimately decided on something safe, yet also something that would let him guess what you did and didn't like. Toast (one with butter and another with jam), eggs (scrambled), a few pieces of bacon, and water. Surely you would eat at least one of the toast slices. If you didn't, perhaps you had a gluten intolerance. That would tell William a lot right off the bat. The eggs were a gamble, even more so the bacon. He knew that a lot of people didn't like eggs, and felt weird eating them. Elizabeth was like that. The bacon was a meat product too. You wouldn't touch it if you were a vegetarian, nor if your religion didn't allow it. And, if you were a vegan, you would only have the toast with jam. At the very least, however, you were going to eat one of these items. His sweet bunny was kind. You would be polite, and happily eat whatever William gave you that also aligned with your diet. And, if there was nothing you liked, he'd happily get you something you did.

It was a perfect test. William was rather proud of himself.

The brit wouldn't make you climb all the way downstairs for your meal. He wanted to spoil you. It was your first morning with him, this should be celebrated. This was the start of your relationship, and William would be damned if he didn't make you feel loved and cherished today.

Gathering up the plate of food and water cup on a tray, William carried up your breakfast to his room, pushing the door open with his foot. You were still asleep, and it didn't even look like you had moved an inch since he had left.

Silly bunny. You were so cute when you slept. He could watch you for hours. Maybe he would tonight. Just to drink in how cute you were. Hell, if he still had that old polaroid camera, maybe he could take a picture for when you weren't able to stay the night. William you are a genius. A picture would be perfect.

He'll look for it later. When you're in the shower or something.

Setting the tray down on his nightstand, William paused for a moment to admire your sleeping form for a second longer, hovering his face a few feet away from your own. You were so gorgeous. So peaceful and ethereal. You looked like you were a dream. Feeling his lips part, William lifted up his hand and cradled your cheek in his palm, his calloused thumb gently rubbing into your soft skin.

You were breathtaking.

But, it was time to get up, little bunny. William missed talking to you. And oh did he want to talk to you about some things.

Leaning forward, William pressed more kisses onto your face, this time harder and with more purpose.

"Good morning, my love." He rumbled out to you in between kisses. Gently stroking your hair, William could feel you stir underneath his touch, you being gently roused out of your sleep. You tried to protest at first with a few mumbles, and William couldn't help but chuckle. His breath fanning against your face, the brit continued to press more kisses to your forehead and cheeks until you finally cracked your sweet eyes open. You looked up at the older man, the sleep still laced in your tired eyes and voice as you spoke.

"Mmn... William?" you rasped out, making the man smile as he smoothed your hair.

"Yes, love," he responded, pressing another kiss to your cheek, "It's me. Good morning, my precious bunny."

You gave him a soft smile as you took one of your arms out from under the covers, rubbing circles into your eyes to wash away the sleep.

"God, I really thought I was dreaming." You mumbled to yourself, making William chuckle again.

"No, love, no. Not a dream at all." William leaned in and gave you a quick peck on your lips, "Though for me, it is a dream come true."

You let out a sleepy giggle as you sat up, pulling the covers up to cover your still-bare chest, "That's really cheesy, yknow."

"It's the truth, my love. Here."

William moved from your side of the bed over to his, picking up and holding out the shirt he got out for you earlier. With a small thanks, you took the shirt and pulled it on over your head, the loose clothing draping across your shoulders as you pushed the covers back down. Mr. Afton sat next to you and watched.

Damn. Mr. Afton was right. You were adorable in his clothes. You looked better in his shirt than even he did. And that was saying something. He had picked every single article of clothing long ago, and tailored it so he'd be as attractive as possible in them. Of course, he was a little biased. But still. You were just too cute.

"I made you a little something, too." William said as he reached behind up. He picked up the tray of your breakfast and set it gently in front of you, watching as how your face lit up with a smile.

"Oh, wow, this looks so good, thank you!" You exclaimed, picking up your jelly toast and taking a bite, "No one's ever made me breakfast in bed before."

William felt himself smile as his heart swelled in his chest, "It's not trouble at all, love. It's the least I can do after such a wonderful night, yeah?"

You took another bite of your toast and nodded, chewing and swallowing and wiping your mouth before you talked again, "I'm assuming you wanna talk about some things?"

Wow. You were rather blunt, weren't you, little one? William often forgot how smart you were. It's alright though. He loved that about you. How you challenged him. You were perfect.

"Yes, I do, bunny." He said, reaching up to smooth out your hair away from your face, "If that's alright with you, of course."

"Yeah, it's alright. I just have one question before, though."

"Hm?"

"You lied to get me here, didn't you? About Michael needing help?"

William felt a chill run through his veins at your words, his pale grey eyes widening ever so slightly. How did you know? Did you really put the pieces together that quickly? You seemed to believe him last night, you had asked about his son a plethora of times. Or were you just putting on an act? Just being kind to the older man, because surely he wouldn't call you over that late at night for nothing, right? Damn. He had never had someone see through his lies so quickly before. William was a good liar. If we were being technical here, he had been lying for almost 40 years now. Of course he was good at it. And, he was good at covering his tracks too. Finding some way to make his lie believable when he had to lie again to keep it going.

But there was no point now, wasn't there? At least, not with this one. You were a clever bunny. No point of keeping it up.

"I..." William begun. He sighed to himself and nodded, "Yes, love, I did."

You took another bite of your toast, "Why?"

Based on how you looked at Mr. Afton, you didn't seem mad. Not at all. This was good for him. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like if you were upset with him. It'd break his heart. You seemed to like the truth. So, it's the truth he would give you.

"I just couldn't think of another way to get us alone, my love." William said, "I hated being without you. I wanted you for so long, I just... I'm sorry, bunny. I should've thought of another way."

Swallowing your toast, you looked at the brit with a smile forming on your face. Wiping away any crumbs, you leaned over your tray and pressed a gentle, soft kiss to his pale cheek, making his lips part in slight shock.

"It's okay." You said, "I lied too. So we're even now."

You lied to him? Oh, bunny. Naughty bunny. William didn't like bad bunnies that lied to him. Not at all. It was against the rules. You should never lie to William. His job is to keep you safe, and he can't do that if you're bad.

But, then again...

You weren't very aware of the rules yet. Not yet. That's something he wanted to talk about with you today over your breakfast. And you did forgive him readily. The two of you were even, as you put it.

William will let you off the hook this once. He had been doing that a lot these last 24 hours, but it's alright. You would learn in time. William could be a bit more laid-back for now.

For now.

"And what did you lie about, hm?" He asked, genuinely curious. He couldn't even think of when you possibly could've lied.

"When you called me," you explained, "and I said I had class in the morning. I lied about that. I don't have any classes today. I just didn't want to go out that late. You totally fell for it though. I mean, who has classes on Sundays?"

You were right. William maybe should've picked up on that. He was just too excited.

Oh well.

"That's...all?"

You breathed out a giggle, "Yeah, sorry. I just felt kinda guilty. But, I'd say we're even now. And I definitely don't regret coming over."

William let himself smile again at this, leaning in and giving a kiss to your temple, "It's alright, bunny. I forgive you."

When William settled back down in his spot, he made it a point to scoot a little closer to you, placing one of his hands on your bare knee and rubbing soft circles into your skin. He didn't like having to be so serious with you. He wanted you to have fun with him. But, William needed to be serious, so that you could have fun. So that you and him could stay together forever.

You needed to know your rules.

And, more importantly, he needed to gauge when it would be best to see you, and maximize the amount of times he could. You were a college student, so he knew you'd be busy. He was a busy man too. But he wanted as much time with you as possible. Having you near him made him feel loved. And safe. And warm. And comfortable. And...

Normal.

You loved him just as he was. When no one else did.

His sweet bunny.

His.

"Now, love," He begun, sounding sweet yet firm at the same time as he stared deep into your eyes, "I want you to know beforehand that I'm only doing all these things because it's my job to keep you safe. And happy, yeah? That I'm only trying to keep us safe."

You nodded in agreement.

William flashed you a smile, "Good bunny. Now, just for now, I think that it's best that we keep our... relationship just between you and me, yeah?"

You raised your eyebrows a little as you set your toast down, wiping your hands, "Our... relationship?"

William was a little confused.

"Yes, love." He said, "Is that not what people call it these days?"

You shook your head, "No, no! It's just... I was preparing for you to say just, like... That last night was great but we can't see each other anymore."

What? You expected him to just give you a one night stand? William felt his heart break a little at your words, his brow bending downwards as he cupped your face in his palm.

Did he not do a good job of showing you how much he loved you? Did you not feel loved? Bunny, you need to tell him these things. William wants you to feel good with him. Both emotionally and physically. He wants to show you just how much he loves you, and damn him if he can't get the message across. William loves you so, so much.

"No, love, no." He reassured you, "I meant what I said earlier. That I want you to be mine, forever. You remember, yeah?"

You nodded in agreement, a tiny smile reappearing on your sweet face.

"I mean it, bunny. You're the only one for me." His thumb traveled down to your lips, pressing against the soft skin, "My precious darling..."

Your smile grew as you pressed a kiss to William's hand, nuzzling your cheek further into his touch.

"But, we have to be a secret?" you asked, your doe eyes looking into his.

"Unfortunately, love, we do." His thumb went back to rubbing gently against your cheek, "Just for a little while. Believe me, I want to show you off to everyone. It's just, for now, it's... complicated."

"Wait... you're not married, ri-"

William chuckled, "No, no! Definitely not. I've long since been divorced, love."

"Then why do we have to be a secret?"

William smiled at your question. You were just so adorable. You wanted him to show you off, didn't you? Precious bunny. Of course William wanted to let everyone know you were his. Because you were. His. He didn't want anyone in this fucking idiotic town taking you away from him, no.

It's like he said. It's complicated.

"Because, love," he explained, "It just might be a little... jarring to some people. Especially to a certain someone we know."

Fucking Michael. William knew that if Michael found out about you and him, hell would be raised in the house. William didn't want to deal with the headache of it all. The little brat might run off and spread some nasty rumors too. Or, even worse, feed you all sorts of lies. About how William was no good for you. About how he was just a mean man that wanted to have you just for some good arm-candy. That William didn't love you.

That's the one. That's the one that made William's blood boil, at even just the mere thought of it. William did love you. He loved you more than anything or anyone in the entire world. And you loved him back. Who was Michael to take you away from him?

No one. Absolutely no one.

William knew you wouldn't want to be a secret forever, though. As easy as it would be. It was fine though. William didn't really want to keep you a secret either. He was genuine when he said he wanted to show you off. He wanted to kiss you and hold your hand in public and not apologize for it. Hug you. Let you walk around with his marks on your neck. Smell like his fancy cologne. And even, perhaps...

Oh. Oh, that was a good one.

Perhaps even he'd put a ring on your finger.

Oh, god. His little bunny. With the ring he got them on their finger. In a little wedding outfit. Having it written on paper. The honeymoon...

Yes. That was a good one.

He'd have to keep that in mind for later.

"But," you said, "Michael is still my friend. I can't just not see him around classes and stuff. He's still gonna wanna have me over and all that. Wouldn't it be... awkward?"

"It doesn't have to be," William reassured you, taking one of your hands into his and kissing your knuckles, "We'll just have to pretend for those bits, won't we? Perhaps if we get a moment alone, too..."

You giggled at his insinuation, a faint tint on your cheeks.

"Do you think you can keep our little secret safe, bunny?" He asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I can. I can keep a secret."

"Good. I promise to keep up my end of the bargain, too."

"So... when will we get to see each other then? I still have classes during the week, so, like, the weekends?"

William kissed the back of your hand again, giving it a squeeze, "That'll be the best time for both of us, yes. I know you're busy with your studies, and I'm busy as well. However..."

William let go of your hand briefly to reach behind him into the drawer of his nightstand. He felt around for a few moments before he found what he was searching for, pulling it out and shutting the drawer.

"I'm usually in my office while I'm working. Here." He explained, pressing the object into your hand, "This is the spare key. If you go in through the front, just take a right and keep going until you reach the end of that hallway. Mine is the last door on your left. You're free to come in whenever you want, bunny. Just make sure no one sees you, yeah? And if I'm not there just wait a little, and I will be."

Mr. Afton watched as you turned the key over in your hands, the silver reflecting onto your adorable face.

"You work at that diner that all the kids like, right?" You asked, "The one on Main with all the robots?"

William chuckled, "Yes, love. That's the one."

"Cool. I've never been there before."

Trust him, bunny. He knew.

"Well now you have a reason, yeah?"

"Definitely."

William smiled at you again, leaning in and giving you a kiss on your cheek as he took your hand into his again.

"There's just a few more things, love." He said.

"What is it?"

William wasn't too sure how you would react to this last part. Your real rules. But, he also knew that you hadn't had a relationship before. Perhaps you would just think that they're a normal part of a relationship. It's not like what he was going to ask of you was hard or anything. It was just a few things to make sure you were safe. Something to keep your mind occupied with him. He didn't want you wandering off already, no. Not that you would. You loved him. When it came to you, however, William was more paranoid than normal. He didn't even want a chance for you to slip away from him.

It'd be okay. Surely. You loved him. You wouldn't mind a few rules, wouldn't you bunny? They're just so William can keep you safe. Isn't that what you want?

Of course you would. He just had to word this properly so it didn't' scare you.

"I would... appreciate it," He begun, rubbing soothing circles onto your knuckles, "If you would phone me at least once during the week. And tell me if anyone has been pestering you. And be honest with me. Always. No matter what, yeah?"

William reached out and smoothed your hair behind your ear, dipping his hand down to cradle your cheek again in his palm.

"Can you do that, love?" He asked, "Be a good bunny for me?"

He could feel your cheeks heat up again as you nodded.

"Yes, I can..."

Mr. Afton smiled, "Thank you, dear."

What a good little thing you are. So eager to please him already.

"But," you peeped out, "What if Michael answers instead?"

You made a fair point. William's son was rude. And often made William's life all the more harder. Hell, it was because of him that the brit couldn't show you off around time. Hide you away. That goddamned brat. Michael was lucky that he was the reason William knew about you. Otherwise, William would've never seen anything good about that boy.

Embicile.

William let out a hum, "Don't worry about that, love. I'll take care of it. Just talk to him like you normally would, I'll be there eventually. I promise."

"If you say so."

William felt his smile grow at your words. You were just too perfect. William wondered why he didn't enact his little plan sooner. The way he felt now versus before was starkly different. This must be what real, genuine love and happiness felt like. The older man would sometimes feel jealous of those who got to experience it, thinking he never would. But, here he was, and here you were.

You made him so happy, bunny. His sweet, precious angel.

"Is there anything else you want to add, bunny?" He asked, wanting to make sure you were comfortable too.

You shook your head, "No. Just, thank you for breakfast. It was yummy."

William took that as a sign that you were done and took away your tray, setting it on the nightstand, "It's no trouble at all, love. Now, come here. Let me hold you a bit."

The brit saw how you smiled as you scooted over in the bed closer to him, so pretty just for him. William leaned back against his headboard as you drew closer, wrapping his hands around your waist to pull you into his lap so that you were facing him. He took your sudden proximity as an opportunity to capture your soft, precious lips into another kiss, feeling how your hands rested on his strong shoulders. William's hands couldn't help but start to wander when he felt your heat close to him. Down your hips and waist. Down to your cute little butt, and those delicious, soft thighs.

You were still a little sloppy and timid with your kisses, but William didn't care. He was honored to be your first kiss. First time. First boyfriend. Everything. It's not like you'd ever want a different man, anyway. You were his. And only he could treat you the way you were meant to be treated. Can't you see it, little one? He already knows nearly everything about you. He did plenty of homework beforehand. Studied you. Researched you. Watched you. Planned everything just so you'd fall into his arms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything. He couldn't even put into words just how much he cherished you. And just how many times he's imagined this very moment before.

So, its okay that you're not the best kisser. Totally fine. You'll learn in time. There's plenty more kisses where this came from.

He made sure of that.

~~~

To Michael, the weekends always flew by with such speed that he barely even realized that they were there.

The brief reprieve he got from them was never nearly enough. Not even on the odd occasion that he had three-day weekends. Nothing would ever be good enough, so long as he knew as he had to go back to his damn dad's house.

Fucking hell. Michael hated his dad. He hated his dad more than anything he ever hated or will ever hate. He knew his father hated him too. He knew that when his sperm-donator looked at him, there was no love there. Michael wasn't sure if the old bastard was capable of love. There had been nothing there for all the years Michael had been alive. Nothing for him, nothing for Elizabeth, nothing for Evan, and certainly nothing for his mom. His mom was lucky, though. She was able to get out. Get a divorce and move two towns over.

But, Michael wasn't so lucky. The court had decided that his father should've gotten custody of him for whatever reason. Bull-fucking-shit. The only reason William wanted him was to keep his torture going. Michaels father knew the young man was miserable there, but didn't care.

Sick fucking bastard. No wonder mom left.

Michael had considered moving out when he was 18, but the idea was shot down nearly as quickly as he had thought it. He needed to go to college. And, his dad's place was the only thing close enough to a college. Michael couldn't afford an apartment either, not with the pitiful salary his dad gave him at the diner. So, Michael's hands were tied. He had to live with his old man.

Sick fucking bastard.

It was harder and harder each time to say goodbye to his mom and brother and sister. But Michael knew he had to, but always promised to come back next weekend. A promise he kept ever since he got his license. This time, however, seemed even harder.

The fights Michael and his father had that last week were horrible. Nearly full-on yelling matches with one another. His dad had refused to admit that he stole Michael's car keys. Mike fucking knew he did too, as much as the old geezer tried to deny it. Bastard went as far as to unplug the fucking phone from the wall too. Michael was basically on house-arrest for no goddamned reason. Michael was forced to clean the entire house too, until everything was nearly spotless.

"You're not going anywhere until this house is fit for the bloody queen, young man." His father had said.

Was this just some sick game his dad was trying to play? A new method of how he can make his son's life all the more shitty? Maybe. Knowing how he was.

But, still. Mike tried to remain optimistic. Both he and his old man had a few days to try and cool down. Have some stress-relief. Maybe Michael could just come home and they could pretend like the last week never happened. Which, he had learned, was the closest thing to an apology he would ever get from William.

Hopefully he could come home and it'd be alright.

Hopefully.

Michael had gotten out of his mom's house a little later than he wanted. By the time he had gotten home, the sun had already begun to creep down the horizon, and the cool night air had begun its trek across the whole neighborhood. Pulling up to the familiar driveway of the house, Michael was quick to notice two things at once. The first being the most obvious was the pit of dread growing in the bottom of his stomach. It was okay though, he always felt that way when he returned home from a weekend at his mom's. The other thing, however, was the fact that the lights were on outside.

How long had it been now? That Michael asked his father to leave the light on for him? It must've been years. It was a simple thing to ask for, probably the only think Michael ever asked for from his father. But, of course, William had never delivered. Ever. It was one more way William made sure Michael's life was a living hell. Show him that he will never get what he asks for, or any sort of nice things.

But yet, they were on.

Strange.

Taking a brief moment to collect his thoughts in the sanctuary of his car, Michael took a deep breath in and out of his nose, running his fingers through his combed, feathered hair. Once he was ready, he pushed open his car door and stepped out, locking it behind him. The young man then shifted his keys around in his hand as he approached the front door, eventually finding the lock and opening it.

"I'm home!" Michael called out into the empty foyer as he shut the door behind him. He looked around for a moment for any sign of his father, but saw none. Pausing for a moment, he listened for any sign of him tinkering in the basement workshop.

Nothing.

What the fuck? Where the hell was he?

Whatever. Old man was probably just at Mr. Henry's house or something. Maybe the diner. What did Michael even care, anyway? He could use this opportunity to slip into his room without a fight.

In the quietness of the house, Michael could hear how his footsteps echoed off of the wooden floors and onto the walls. It was eerie, in a way. But why? Whenever he came home from a weekend away, the house was always like this. Hell, it was like this nearly constantly, unless he or his father was using the phone, Mr. Henry was over, or there was a fight. But, that night it was just... different.

Mike didn't know what it was. Did he even want to know? He wasn't sure.

But it had to do with William. He knew that much.

Michael was smart.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Michael groaned at the sight before him on instinct. Of course he couldn't just go to his room without there being some sort of trouble. He had thought he smelled smoke in the doorway. There, at the head of the table, was the man of the hour. His dad. That stuck-up narcissistic piece of shit. The old man was surrounded by all sorts of papers, an ashtray pluming smoke with...

Was that a cigar? A fucking cigar? Michael's father only smoked those around the holidays.

What was the occasion?

Michael watched as his dad realized that his son was home, and how the slight smirk on his dumb face grew as he looked at the young man.

Hell no. Hell fucking no. Something was up.

"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that, Michael." His father said, setting his pen down and tamping out some ash from the cigar, "You'll give your old man a heart attack."

Michael rolled his eyes, "I said I was home. Or are you going deaf now, too?"

William chuckled as he took a puff of his cigar, which made Michael's skin crawl. The fuck was his deal?

"I'm not that old, son."

"You look like it." Michael mumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes.

William placed the cigar down as he took a bundle of papers into his hand, leaning back in his chair as he read them, "How was your trip?"

Okay. No. Something was definitely up now. William never ever cared about that kind of shit before. And where was all the sarcasm? And the griping? And the whining and throwing a fit? The old man was in too good of a mood tonight. He was never in a good mood when Michael came home. He hated Mike, and Mike knew that. Mike hated him too, and wasn't shy about showing it. And neither was his old man, in the past at least.

Something had to have happened. This didn't just come out of nowhere.

That bastard did something. Michael knew it.

But what?

"Since when do you care?" Mike asked, crossing his arms.

"Is it a crime to worry for your children now, hm?" William asked, a hint of sarcasm in his accented voice.

Michael rolled his eyes again, "Cut the shit, old man, I-"

"How are Elizabeth and Evan?"

"I... They're fine. Evan still carries that bear you gave him. And Liz asks about you all the time. She misses you. They both do. They wanna visit."

William's face looked indifferent about the matter, "They're always welcome. Just bring them next time you come back for the weekend."

"Yeah, bullshit they're always welcome."

William looked up from his papers and raised an eyebrow, "Someone's hostile tonight, hm? Traffic bad on the way home?"

That condescending prick. Michael was already getting heated, the redness of his freckled cheeks hard to ignore. He re-crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall.

"I know you did something." Michael admitted matter-of-factly. From across the room, he could see his father's smirk growing ever-so slightly as he set his papers down, dipping forward to rest his arms against the dining table. The old man laced his fingers together as he looked at his eldest son.

"Do you now?" William asked, making Michael clench his jaw.

"Yes."

"And what exactly might that be? That I'm supposedly guilty of?"

Michael swallowed the lump in his throat as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. Shit. He didn't think that it'd get this far without it just turning into a screaming match. Michael didn't have any proof William did anything. Not anything that solid, at least. But it'd have to do. It was enough to convince him that his father did something, and having known that damn bastard all his life, that was enough. William probably knew that too. Knew that it was just enough to rub in Michael's face, but not enough to accuse him of anything without sounding like an asshole.

Sick fucking bastard.

"I... I don't know." Mike admitted, "But I know you did something. You never act like this when I get home."

William tsked, "Getting mad at me over nothing? Come now, Mike. You're better than that, surely. You know, you sound more and more like your mother every time you go over there. Old bat's still rubbing off on you, I see. Pity."

Michael felt his jaw clench again as he pushed himself off the wall, taking a few steps closer to the table and pointing his finger at the old man.

"Do not bring mum into this!" Michael exclaimed through clenched teeth. "You did something and I just know it! Cut the shit already!"

"I'm still waiting to hear what something is, Michael." William said, not moving an inch, "Whatever it is you can tell me. You know I'll apologize for it."

That fucking liar. Michael's dad never apologized for shit in his entire life. And he fucking knew that too. Michael's vision was starting to go red.

"You never ask how Liz or Evan are! And you left the fucking light on after I asked you for years to leave it on and you never did!" Michael was raising his voice a bit more than he wanted, "You're just... different! And I know that damn look! You did some shit, I know it!"

William sighed and leaned back again in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Michael, I'm not in the mood to do this with you right now."

"Bullshit! You want this to happen!"

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because that's what you fucking do!"

"Do what?"

"You fucking start shit because-"

"I didn't start anything, Michael. You're the one that's angry here."

Michael had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from yelling, running his hands through his hair as he let out a laugh of disbelief.

"I can't fucking believe this..." He said.

"I can't either, Michael." William responded as he stood up from his chair, gathering his papers and tamping out his cigar, "And to think I deserve all this, after just trying to be nice to you..."

"But you're not! You're just-"

William held up a hand as he looked down at his son with a disappointed expression, cutting him off, "Save it, Mike. It's late, you should just go to bed, yeah? You're just tired from the drive. I'll be in the basement."

Michael watched in disbelief as his father made his way across the kitchen without another word, opening the door to the cellar and closing it behind him. How fucking dare that old piece of shit walk out on him like that. Goddamn it, he knew what he was fucking doing. He knew. He always fucking knew. He was just trying to fuck with Michael again. Play another one of his stupid fucking games and make Mike's life a living nightmare.

But Michael wouldn't give up so easily. No, he wouldn't he couldn't.

He had to know what his father did. He had to.

He needed proof.

And the proof was here. Somewhere.

After listening for a moment longer, when Mike was sure that his father was down situated in his workshop, the young man got to work.

If he was going to find some sort of proof, it had to be somewhere where William didn't think that Michael would look. Or, it was somewhere where William knew Michael would think would be too obvious of a place to look. But it could be both at once. Michael knew that was probably the case. William was smart, he had to admit, and knew how to hide things well. But Michael was smarter. And had the advantage of putting up with the old brit's bullshit for his entire life. He knew how William operated. Or, at least, could make a good guess of it. In the past, he had to find other things using the same logic.

The best place to start would be narrowing down possibilities.

His father's room would be too obvious. It definitely wouldn't be there. Bedrooms are the first place people stashed important items to them. So that they were near, and felt safe knowing that whatever they were trying to hide was in a safe space. William's bedroom was always neat and tidy too. Everything had a very specific place, and William almost never added or removed from his inventory of things. It would be too easy of a place.

Definitely not there.

The workshop was too obvious as well. It was like William's second room in a way. The old bastard often slept in there when he was working on a new project. It was just as tidy, too, save for the workbench. Proof wouldn't be down there either. Besides, Mike didn't like going there too much. It was creepy.

Not there either.

Could it be Michael's room? No, certainly not. That was too much of a risk that Mike would just find it on accident. Maybe in Liz's room or Evan's? No, for the same reasons. In the kitchen? Maybe. There were a lot of drawers and cupboards to stash things in, especially in the ones that were only used once or twice a year during the holidays. The living room was a possibility too. There were lots of nooks and crannies to store things in. Hell, knowing his father, if he really wanted to hide something, he could even go so crazy as to rip apart floorboards or tiles and hide things underneath them. William always took pride in his house and the fact that he owned it, and could do whatever he wanted to the things that he owned. Controlling piece of shit.

But, even still, all these possibilities didn't seem right. They didn't feel right to Michael. He had to think. What was the most on-brand thing that William could do to hide something. Think, Mike, think.

The bathroom? No. The diner? No, too far out of the way. Mr. Henry's place? No, too far still. Outside? No...

Suddenly, it hit him. Michael felt his lips part at the revelation.

What is the most visited room in the house that you don't think twice about going in to? Or what's in there? A place where you can easiest hide things in plain sight, because no one ever pays attention.

Bingo.

The laundry room.

Michael quickly made his way over to the room, flicking on the light switch as he entered. At first glance, nothing seemed to be out of place from when he last went in there. As expected, however. This was only a ruse to throw him off, Michael knew.

The first thing he did was tear open the cabinets above the washer and dryer, digging through all the contents to find something, anything. Nothing. He even went as far as to push on the backside of the wood, feeling for any pieces that broke off into secret tunnels. Nothing.

Bullshit. It had to be here.

Michael next checked the two hampers that stood next to the machines, digging all the way down and shifting through all the clothes inside of them.

Nothing.

Bullshit.

Michael knew that he was close. He could feel it, taste it on the tip of his tongue. It was here. He knew it was. Whatever his father was trying to hide from him, it was here.

Think, Michael, think.

Hidden in plain sight... in plain sight...

In sight.

Inside.

Bingo.

Michael spun around and knelt down in front of the washer and dryer, opening the washer first. Inside, a wet, dark pile of his father's clothes greeted him, and Michael sneered. Although the clothes inside were damp, it didn't stop him from pulling each and every last article of clothing, inspecting each and every one of them, and even pulling out all the pockets of the trousers and coat. Eventually, the young man reached the last article of clothing and threw it to the floor.

Nothing. It had to be the dryer.

Shifting his weight to his other knee, Michael opened up the dryer door. Inside, another dark pile of his father's clothes greeted him, although this batch wasn't wet like the other one. Still, Michael took his time pulling out every single article of clothing and checked it thoroughly, discarding it to the ground if it was of no use.

Quickly, Mike was able to reach halfway into the pile of clothes. Reaching in to grab another pair of dress-pants, Michael noticed a contrast of fabric within the pile. His grey eyes gravitated towards it immediately.

His father didn't wear things like that. He was an old-fashioned, dress-to-impress person.

That wasn't his father's.

Reaching in, Michael grabbed the article of clothing. It was soft and plush, but still felt like it had a lot of history to it. It felt used, and loved and cared for. It felt like it missed whoever owned it.

Michael pulled out the garment and turned it over in his hands. It took him a moment to process what it was exactly he was looking at, but when he realized, he felt his blood run cold.

It was a jacket.

He knew this jacket.

He went to classes with this jacket. He skipped classes with this jacket. He went to lunch with this jacket. He drove in the neighborhood with this jacket. He joked around with this jacket. He did homework with it. He called it on the phone. He gossiped with it. Hugged it. Squeezed it. Cared for it.

This was a jacket he knew.

Your jacket.

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 , @the-official-memester , @randomwriteralan , @mrsrogerwaters , @laylaaftonshit , @cherry-slushee , @insert-memical-username , @mrssafton , @horrorking2000 , @artist-anon08 , @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

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if i missed you pls lmk!!

[blaithnne]

I think my one complaint about Anders is that I wish we’d seen him leave of his own accord at least once. Unfortunately I doubt that would be possible due to time constraints but, I think if we’d gotten to see how Hilda was affected by him actually leaving and not being fairynapped it would have better shown what kind of person he is, and been a really good representation of what a lot of real kids go through. That moment where Hilda finally realised her Father abandoned her is so heartbreaking, raw, and real, and the fact that it’s later revealed he didn’t kind of undermines that.

I’m not against Anders changing for the better - it’s a kids show, and it makes sense they’d want to give him a character arch instead of just introducing him to be a dick lol. It also makes sense for his character to have nearly losing his entire family forever be a wake up call for him. But I wish we’d gotten more time with him, and really seen the effects of him leaving for real. Without that, we can generally assume that it had the same effect as him being kidnapped did in canon, but it’s just not the same.

I’m of the opinion that introducing Hilda’s dad as a concept was a good decision, and I don’t think it undermines the shows found family. It gives Hilda a relatable and realistic aspect to her that I think is important for kids in similar situations to see. I am, however, very biased in that regard.

My biological father was an asshole who fucked off before I was born, but I’ve had no absence of family or fatherly role models - I’m very close with my adoptive dad and my grandad. But that didn’t mean I never had questions, or insecurities.

It’s easy to look at fictional tropes and say that found family is clearly superior and biology doesn’t mean shit, and that’s true! But when you’re living in that reality, when you��re young and coming to terms with it for the first time, it’s hard. Especially when you’re surrounded by people who all have blood relations with their families, and when the person you’re related to is regarded as a dick. it really makes you feel isolated and like there’s something wrong with you, like you’re an outsider — you’re different.

Real life people are messy and have insecurities that defy reason, you might logically know that biology doesn’t matter, but when you’re thirteen and insecure and full of inner turmoil, you can’t help but feel bad.

Personally, as I got older, I met people in similar situations and realised I wasn’t alone, that it was okay to have those feelings but it didn’t make them true. But at that age, having grown up in a rural community, I really was alone.

Hilda’s insecurities in season 3 are a great representation of that, she feels like she’s never had a proper family, this thing with Frida, David, Tontu, Alfur and Johanna and Astrid is all new to her. You can tell her Father’s absence has hurt her, how she’s felt different and alone and like something was missing. Hilda defines her worth through her relationships with others, how she can help them make them happy, it destroyed her when she felt like she failed Frida, imagine how she feels about her father.

What I think season 3 was missing was for Hilda to realise that she doesn’t need Anders, and that her happiness isn’t reliant on him being there, I wish she’d had a tad more agency in the relationship, yk? She wants him to be in her life, and he’s going to make an effort now to do that, but she has a support system in place and will be perfectly fine without him. I wish the show had properly acknowledged that just because this is how things ended up, it wasn’t the only option — with or without Anders, Hilda would still have been happy with her family in the end, the fact that he’s a part of it is a nice bonus, but not an essential one.

In general, I think Anders is the best they could do with the time they were given. Having him be a realistic shitty dad who loves his daughter but is just so bad at it is relatable and realistic, though I wish they’d better emphasised that just because he loves hers that doesn’t make his actions okay (perhaps by slightly altering Johanna’s moment with Hilda at the end of The Job), because it’s clear, I think, as a diehard fan, but might not be for more casual viewers.

Having him be redeemable and stick around to do better is a good conclusion for his arch, it’s a happy ending all around and makes sense for the story - it could’ve been weird if they just had him show up and then immediately leave with zero resolution to his character, unless they made him an all out irredeemable abuser, which I think would’ve been worse than what we got. Portraying abusers as unforgivable and cartoonish villains only makes it harder for real life victims to recognise their situations, so if it couldn’t be portrayed properly (which thanks to time constraints and the overall narrative I don’t believe it could be) I’m glad they went with something else.

What we’ve got is, and I know I’ve said this many times lol, a realistic depiction of a crappy, absentee father, that young viewers can recognise and relate to. On that end, the biggest issues are Hilda’s lack of agency within their storyline, since she has no control in the resolution of their relationship, young people looking to this show for ways to cope with their own situations might be discouraged by the end resolution of “he decided to stick around”, since that resolution rests on his decision, not Hilda’s, if that makes sense.

TLDR; Overall, I think Anders’ was a good character and the best that could’ve been done with what the team was given, but,

A) I wish we’d gotten to see him leave of his own accord at least once, so that Hilda’s final realisation that he left her on purpose has more impact and doesn’t loose its meaning in retrospect, and,

B) That Hilda had more agency in the final resolution of their dynamic, that their happily ever after wasn’t entirely reliant on Anders swearing he won’t leave. An alternative solution, maybe presented earlier on in the season when he first left, that provided her with a coping mechanism/outlet in case he does, so that her happiness and mental health isn’t in his hands, would’ve been pretty neat.

[letosmauddib]

TRYING < :) / :0 >

Carmy Berzatto x Original Character (Grace) Just want a sappy/smutty/cute moment for Carmy :)

Carmy and his wife are trying for a baby :) 1.4 K-ish words, edited somewhat? (be nice to me )

SMUT 18+ this is your warning :p

Warnings: sex lol, sexy talk, mentions of pregnancy, etc.

‘I’d say, for the next delivery less tomatoes and more heads of lettuce? A crate less and three heads more ?” Carmy sighed as he searched his pocket for a pen. 

“I’d agree, I'll write that in my notes. Hey it’s 6pm didn’t you need to return some books or something?” Syd commented as she jotted down inventory notes. “Hm? Books?” Carmy replied distracted by thoughts of produce. “You told Richie something about needing to leave early to return Grace’s library books?” Carmy got pulled from his daze, “Fuck me, I gotta head out.” He pulled his scrap notes into his notebook and tossed them onto his desk. He tossed his jacket on haphazardly: “Syd, I’ll have some more notes before the delivery call needs to be made. I’ll make sure they get done.” Syd grabbed a dish towel and closed her notebook: “Two days Chef, Tuesday so we get it on time.” “Noted, have a good rest of your Sunday. I’ll see you soon.” Carmy bid a quick farewell to the staff before heading out to his car. 

As Syd grabbed her notebook to place in the office, Richie came in to drop off a few dirty dish trays. “Where’s Carm?” “Headed out early to make it to the library..” Richie nodded and let out a chuckle: “He’s so slick, it's fucking Sunday. Libraries aren’t fucking open.” 

Carmy felt like his lungs were gonna collapse as he made his way up the stairs to the apartment loft. The sun was starting to set, casting that orange glint into the apartment building. His watch alarm screamed 6:45 as he grabbed his keys from his pocket. He shut the door behind him, kicking off his shoes; “Baby?” He called out, hearing the soft footsteps against the hardwood floors. Sunshine stepped into the room, at least that’s how it felt. Grace happily made her way over to him, soft short pink nightdress on. “So happy you’re home.” She exclaimed sweetly with a kiss on his cheek. Carmy’s hands slipped around her waist, holding her close. Soft fabric, soft skin under his rough grip. “Am I late baby, are we still okay on time?” “I need to take another test but we’re okay. Happy you’re home early on a Sunday with me.” She beamed. Her fingers lingered on his cheek. 

Carmy and Grace agreed he would hop in the shower while she took another ovulation test. He was happy for the chance to wipe away work, as much as Grace insisted he smelled fine. Carmy followed a specific routine post-work, showering for an hour, putting work clothes in the correct hamper, or throwing them in the washing machine. Grace made sure to help him incorporate a skincare routine and actually eat a meal. But at the moment, he was rushing through trying to be as thorough and as quickly as possible. “Baby?” She called out to him as he wiped the droplets. He wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way back into their bedroom. She had settled on their bed, cheek pressed on the soft ivory sheets they’d spent a week deciding on. “What’d the test say, still good?” He asked as he dried his hair. “Still good, still ovulating.” Grace flipped onto her back, the sheerness of the nightgown much more apparent. Carmy felt like a teenager, the blush on his face apparent as he glanced over her supple breasts. 

His daze interrupted; “I feel like we’re orchestrating this and it's making me feel a bit weird” She stated softly twisting a strand of hair in her perfectly manicured finger, fixed on their ceiling. He crawled over her, letting the towel slip away. Grace’s hands settled on his broad shoulders, immediately feeling her nerves a bit relieved. “I know..” He sighed, “I thought that having a baby was going to be really easy. Thought we were really good at  the making babies part too.” He chuckled. Grace’s fingers crept up his neck, feeling his curls at her fingertips. She giggled as his nose pressed against her cheek lips against her neck. “I feel like I’m ruining it bear I’m sorry..” He pulled away to glance over her soft features, lips a bit pouty. “You’re okay baby promise.” Carmy knew she was feeling a bit desperate, a bit disappointed and the doubt was creeping in on her. He was feeling the same way. People fuck and have kids every day, they’d even had pregnancy scares before, but it seemed like the second they were being more purposeful it was taking much longer than expected. She had gone off birth control almost six months ago and they had gotten to the point of timing her ovulation periods. They were hoping this would help them. “D’you still want to?” He asked softly fingers resting on her chin. 

She nodded in response, her hands slipping down to graze his shoulder blades. His thumb pressed against her lip: “Good, now use your words…” He pressed a kiss to her nose, She was feeling her cheeks go warm. “Want you Carm…” She muttered softly, feeling a bit shy. He took his time, pressing kisses against her jaw.  She was feeling dizzy; “Want you to fuck me please bear?” She panted, Carmy bit down on his bottom lip, and his hand cupped her breast as he pressed his lips against her neck. Her nipples pebbled against the soft fabric of her nightgown, his callous hands against her breasts. He pulled the straps down of the soft nightgown, lips pressing against her nipples.  

 She squirmed parting her knees gently for him, she glanced down as his cock pressed against her thigh. Soft thighs spread and wrapped around his waist, feeling his hard erection against her.  Her nightgown rode up exposing her bare cunt, his hands slipped down and around her waist feeling her plump bum. “No panties…all for me hmm?” He chuckled pressing a kiss to her sternum. Grace was flustered, feeling warm all over her body.  She glanced over his features, flushed and aroused for her. 

Grace pressed a kiss to his nose and a few pecks against his cheeks. As she nibbled against his jaw, his hands shifted her onto his lap. She tugged on the hastily wrapped nightgown around her waist, wanting to be free from the silky fabric. Carm’s hands slipped around her back pulling the night gown off and tossed it hastily away. He lifted her up to adjust himself, her hands slipped around his neck, cheek pressed against his curls. Carmy reached down between them, their bodies pressed flushed together. His hand lingered between her thighs, feeling how she was dripping for him. He gripped his aching member, guiding it towards her. She moaned, squirming in his hands. He chuckled. “You’re so squirmy today baby.” He teased as he guided himself, teasing her slick mound with the length of his cock. She groaned, biting down on her bottom lip. “Bear, please?? Want you in me..” She whimpered. He felt like he could cum right there, just from hearing the desperation in her voice. “S’okay pretty baby..” He sighed. She gasped as she sunk down onto his length, his hands held her upper thighs as he found his pace. Grace moaned as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. “Feels good baby?” He breathed out. “So good bear, so so good.” She whimpered, much to his delight. 

Carmy slowed his pace, hands slipping up to her waist and guiding her to lay down. He towered over her, hands slipping down to her waist as he picked up his pace once again. Grace gripped the sheets, as she felt like she was gasping for air.  Carmy’s hand slipped between their flustered bodies fondling at her most sensitive area. Her back arched feeling overly-stimulated by his touch. Carmy’s hips stuttered against hers, her lips parted as her eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. 

“Taking me so good baby.” He uttered softly. Grace groaned softly,  as he leaned over her pressing his lips to her collarbone. Carmy’s hips stuttered as he kissed her neck. “Not gonna last much longer baby.”. She moaned softly: “I’m so close Carmy.” “Come for me baby.” He moaned against her cheek. Her fingers slipped into his curls, tugging gently. “Oh Fuck.” She whimpered, as she arched her back knees squeezing his sides. “Oh god..” He groaned as he rutted slowly into her, pressing his hips against hers. Filling her up with his load, she squirmed in his arms; feeling overstimulated. “Stay still for me sweet girl.” He said with a peck on her cheek. She looked disheveled and sleepy, but satisfied. His lips pressed against her neck trying to bring her back down to him. Her hands slipped up to caress his neck, “I love you so so much Carmy.” She muttered sleepily. Carmy’s arms slipped around her waist, holding her close. “I love you too sweet baby.” 

[rosenongrata]

Immortalize

⋯☆ Summary: When Zhongli seemingly doesn't reciprocate your romantic feelings, you know that push has come to shove.

⋯☆ A/N: hey this fic almost made me cry lol. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

⋯☆ AO3 Link.

⋯☆ W.C: 2.1k

⋯☆ CW: Angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort. (tell me if I should add anything else!)

“I love you, Zhongli.”

You two have long since been friends—for years. He couldn't ask for a better mortal as a friend, he's known this for quite some time now. He's confided in you about many of his struggles, although most only scratched the surface of his iceberg of memories.

His own insecurity and fears keep him locked away from confessing his true identity to you. He figures you don't need to know and never will need to. The last thing he'd ever want to place upon your shoulders is the burden of his long-winded history.

But…

You're already acutely aware of his former identity, aren't you? You have been for a while. Although you'd hate to call him out like that—it's a touchy subject, isn't it? That's what you concluded, at least. So, you never brought it up, for his sake. He has his reasons, you have yours.

And today wasn't much different from his perspective. That is up until you quite suddenly confessed to him over lunch at Wanmin Restaurant. His heart flutters before leaving behind an obtuse desire to shatter. But his eyes betray his feelings—he remains perfectly composed, or so he thinks.

In reality, he has the most distant expression on his face, his mouth agape by a sliver while his molten gold eyes turn into a thousand-yard stare. And that's his pure, unadulterated shock mixed with heartbreak written all over his face.

Even you can see through that calm and composed gaze—only to witness a single, tiny tear welling up in his left eye. You're not sure if he heard you or not—while you're somewhat positive that he did, you decide to check.

"I love you, Zhongli…" You echo softly as your smile threatens to snap into a broken frown.

And now all you can wonder is if he hates you for this.

"A-Ah, yes." He sputters out awkwardly, finally finding himself again and readjusting his facial posture. "I…" He trails off, that tear rising to the very precipice of his eye once again.

"Are you…alright? Should I leave?" You whisper, already backtracking.

"Y-Yes, I am quite well." He nods, clearing his throat, and he tells you what he convinces himself is the truth, "I…cannot reciprocate your feelings. I am sorry."

"It's okay… Are we still friends?" You inquire, a broken smile on your lips.

You half-expected that response, given his hidden identity. But, what came next is something you didn't think twice about, let alone once.

"Let me…think about it." He stands up sharply, his shoulders and back tense. And without another word, he leaves in a rush—to hide his oncoming tears and sniffles.

He didn't want to say it, but one can't have everything they want. Life is an unfair, cruel mistress.

…Just how long has it been since he last cried, he wonders when he gets home—rushing to sit on the cushioned sofa.

At some point, his memories harass him so harshly that he dozes off in an attempt to escape—slipping into an uncomfortable midday slumber. His brows furrow even in his sleep, his expression looking like he's about to cry a bit more.

He's never quite cried over a mortal before, especially one that is still alive. And he's never quite been in love, either. Yet this love in his heart screams and aches for you to stay with him as long as he allows it. He thought he could bury these feelings six feet deep, but they have their ways of crawling out to bite him where it hurts most.

He's sick of losing people, really. He's much more tired of it than he lets on. That much you've realized ever since piecing together his hidden distant past.

You figure it hurts him a lot to lose so much and still has to remember it all. And more often than not, you wonder how he manages to keep a cool head through all of it.

As you walk to his home to check up on him, you can only hope he's safe and sound. He's not the type to make rash decisions, but the moment he ran off back home has you more than a bit concerned.

When you arrive, you're thankful he didn't even take another moment to think about taking the spare key to his home back from you. Or else you'd be in a more than precarious position right now.

After tiptoeing into his abode, you immediately notice how he hastily threw his jacket to the floor. Even his loafers aren't neatly placed away in their shoe cubby like they usually are. You sigh a little, your heart heavy with worry. You must've really upset the poor man if he didn't even bother to stay peculiar about his habits.

Doing him a small favor, you dust off his coat and hang it on the rack next to his other similar outerwear. You even put his shoes away in their cubby underneath the coat rack. He needs less stress, you figure, you would hate for him to feel exasperated later because he made a mess.

Once out of your own shoes, you sneak throughout the house. It's not hard to find him, he's sprawled out on the sofa with his long limbs in every which way they can reach.

How long has he been asleep, exactly? Well, you shelve that thought away for now. You'd smile at his sleeping form if it weren't for the fact that his expression is so deeply furrowed and tight that he looks like he's going to sob at any moment. What could he be dreaming about, you wonder.

Glancing around, you find a spare blanket and pull it over him. His features and body immediately relax from the gentle, loving action. You never once think about holding back the tiny smile that paints your lips, a sigh of relief leaving you.

…You want to make him as happy as you can, after all. And what's a better way than to have him cozy, make him some silk flower tea, and then…leave for Celestia-knows-how -long?

Love can make someone do crazy things, you know.

—

It's been months since anyone last saw you.

Even if your family knew anything about your disappearance, they certainly didn't say anything about it. In Zhongli's eyes, it looks like a cover-up for something darker than he initially suspects.

He ends up imagining the worst.

Which does no good for his historic heart at all.

He's helpless to his own self-blame that riddles his mind and body. His body aches—his muscles taut. He even gets frequent headaches, with seemingly no end in sight to them. His appetite is much smaller than before, barely interested in his favorite dishes. Even his other friends notice how he's not as peculiar about everything as he was before. And he buries himself in his work at Wangsheng, taking up more jobs than Hu Tao thinks he should.

But there's no convincing him otherwise until he comes to terms with himself. He's always been like this—steady, but also stubborn as stone.

And today is no different—even with dark clouds pouring rain onto the harbor. He can feel his heart sink heavier than ever, the storm outside being no help to his poor state of mind. He yearns for your warm touch, something to bring him a semblance of comfort to his aching bones.

Yet he presses on with his paperwork. Hu Tao has hidden many pieces of his work from him without his knowledge, forcing him to give himself a break. That doesn’t stop him from finding something tasking to do, though.

…Such as taking the paperwork off of his coworker's hands (with their permission) and working on those instead. But, at some point, he becomes sluggish with a foggy mind—the fog is thick as mud. Even he starts feeling rather sleepy…

And the moment he begins to doze off, he feels the papers beneath his arms pulled out from under him. His head jerks up to see the culprit—only to see Hu Tao, his boss. He reaches out to the papers, only to have her move them away at the last second. She teases him by waving the stack of parchment in front of him.

"Ah-ah~, I think it's bedtime for a certain overworked consultant!" She coos, but he can see the worry in her slightly pinched eyes and tiny smile.

"B-Bedtime? It's the middle of the day, Director…" He retorts, attempting to regain his composure as if he hadn't been dozing off moments before.

"Then, I order thee to take a small nap!" She uses her spare hand to point at him. "I'll lock the office door behind me. Now, please rest. Give it a break, you old fart." She sighs softly, "I'll check on you in an hour~." She promises with a wink before leaving, paperwork in hand.

"Director—" He says, but it's already too late for him to get his case in.

After a few solid moments of listening to the clock on the wall tick-tock away and his instincts scream at him about staying productive, he moves away from his desk. A one-hour nap couldn't hurt, right? He can only hope.

With that smidge of reassurance in his mind, he lays down on the spare sofa in the corner of the lavish office. Sleep comes difficult—like usual—but it does happen after shifting around on the sofa and listening to his own silly worries for about 30 minutes.

He must love you a lot, you know that, right?

—

Later that evening, Zhongli trudges home even as the monsoon storm pushes past him, surely soaking him and his layered clothes. His mind is as cloudy as the sky; his body remains firm and steady as stone—as it always has.

Yet when he hears a familiar call of a loved one's voice, he snaps out of his daze and whips his head around to see the culprit. When he sees nothing out of the ordinary, he grumbles bitter nonsense under his breath. His bitterness only grows when he realizes he forgot his wallet at work (which also had his keys).

"Need a key?"

There's that familiar voice again. But when he turns around this time, it doesn't take a blind man to realize who it is. He feels his heart jump into his throat in response, cutting off his ability to breathe and speak.

It's you.

He can't believe his eyes—the other day he was almost certain you had died. Yet…here you are once again. So close to him and so real, along with the spare key that you hold up—its silver coat glittering amidst the heavy rain.

"Oh, Zhongli." You laugh, shaking your head—you find his dumbfounded expression beyond adorable, yet you decide to not tease him about it just yet.

You gently shift him to the side of the doorway so you can unlock it. Once opened, you push him inside before you two get any more soaked through. You kick the door shut behind you, releasing a loud sigh of relief.

"I…" He finally starts to say something, much to your joy, "Y-You're back." He sputters out as if everything has just fallen into place, "W-Where were you?!" He bemoans—he's never shouted before now, but you don't blame him in this instance. This one's on you.

"I… Let's get dry first, okay? I'll tell you later—"

"No, right now. Tell me now." He grabs your shoulders firmly, desperation clear in golden eyes as a cloudless day.

Your eyes pop wide open out of surprise, and then you smile and giggle a little, "I…went looking about how to become immortal."

"You what?" He growls. "Why would you—"

"Because…we love each other," You now rest your wet hands over his own, your grasp soft as a baby's skin, "Neither of us wants to leave the other. So, I'll make sure that happens." You sigh a little, "Zhongli… I know who you are—or were—so let me…let me love you fully and truly."

He whispers your name, head drooping as tears threaten to spill over. No mortal has ever promised to dedicate themselves to him with so much earnestness before. Especially not one that loves him for him and not his status.

"Zhongli—?"

"I love you, I love you." He pulls you into a soaked, shivering hug, "I love you so… I will never betray you. Please, stay with me. Don't disappear like that again, my darling."

"…Of course, Zhongli. I'll stay. Forever and always."

And into his arms, you will stay. Forever and always.

[justcallmesakira]

Bsd men with a childish s/o pt. 3!

Sypnosis: How the people who are somewhat sane deal with you and your goofy goobers

Warnings: eyebrow less, wereballs, mentions of gaslight ING, mentions of turning into a gacha life demon form 2019,stealing glittery not pads, omori building reference, etc.

Genre: lowkey fluff, crack

A/N: bro this series is blowing up for real- Anyways heres part 2 andddd part 1!

Atsushi-

No guys hes not like you-😭

Sometimes he wonders if you were better suited with dazai then him (it's giving a certain emo Victorian kid kinnie)

But hey hey! Don't worry he will try to calm you down because he DOES NOT WANT YOU to follow dazai's steps! 😋😋

Dw atsushi! Reader is perfectly sane!!

He once came back to the agency from a mission only to see you see you eyebrow less

"Y/N! I am ba-AAAAAAAAAH-" "What, jinko, finally grew some wereballs"

HGYHFYG WERE BALLS-

Turns out you were cosplaying akutagawa and the eyebrowless thing was just a prank <3

Jizz man, give my pookie tiger

He's more scared of you then akutagawa 😨😨😨

You sometimes feel silly so you gave him cat food for lunch beacuse dazai convinced you with some skittles (he probably stole them from ranpo)

"umm, y/N.. WHY are you giving me cat food?" "because I felt silly lol"

I BET HE WOULD EAT IT BECAUSE HE DOES NOT WANT TO WASTE FOOD-

Kyouka had to stop him-

I am pretty sure you two speak in kaomojis like--

But he enjoys your presence, it's nice to know that at least your happy,Perhaps he can protect you and your happiness if he tries....

Sometimes he wonders how you have so much energy to break into his home with hello kitty pins just to wake him up

And go to an amusement park..

There goes atsuhis wallet! 😄💸

I think atsushi genuinely likes your antics.. Sometimes

But he would definitely keeps you away from dazai so you two don't pour Elmer's glue into kunikidas hair :3

Gin-

Uh oh... Gin can you really handle reader-

OF COURSE YOU Can!! You can do anything hahaha... (please help I am being hold at gunshot by rea-)

Since she's really shy and all you speak for her though you jumble the words sometimes

"she asked for no pickles ya dumb yard😡🤬😈👿" *turns into a gacha life 2019 demon*

Although she can't keep up with your energy you always understand what she says in a notepad

You even stole bought her a glittered kuromi notepad for you twos personal talking!

Sometimes she sees silly doodles on the corners of the pages

Gin thinks its honestly cute

However if akutagawa founds out about your silly antics around his sister he's gonna give you a death stare

Gin haded to reasure him countless times that you won't eat her whole

I would😋😋😋

After she calmed her brother you always greeted him with "yo bro wassup >:3"

Bad idea😨

It's true your the person talking for her and all but she's gonna go full assassin mode if someone even tries to hurt you

THAT'S MY Girl!!!!! 😍🤩🥰😝 *verlaine bcs he canonically trained gin I think

Anyways you and her share a cute Lil dynamic

Sigma-

T-that gif if him before finding out you were trying to eat the casino coins

"Y/N YOU CAN NOT EAT CASINO COINS" "why :(" "It's NOT FOR EATING" "why :(" "Well you ca-" ":c" "Why the sad face...wait did I shout too loud oh my god y/N I am so sorry.. You know what fine I will take you to the casinos play ground today" ":3"

Sigma.. That face is the face of someone who always gets what they want-😦

Also he sometimes questions how and why you speak in emojis like ":3" or ":("

Teach me your ways bestay😏

But please he's so insecure don't do that to my pookie😭🙏

He sometimes question if he has met your type before.. *flashbacks of Nikolai and dazai*

He's gonna go OUT of his way to keep you away from Nikolai bro

Sigma does not want to have a Nikolai dupe as his s/o

But still he might get a bit protective like "y/N be safe" "y/N don't go there" "y/N make sure to wear kneecaps before skating in the hallways of the casi- WAIT"

"don't worry I will be fine!" famous last words

*inserts omori reference here*

He's so tired bro but anything to keep you happy...

You somehow sometimes save him from Nikolai prank

But even so he tries protecting you...afterall no one wants to lose their only home.......

A/N: hope you enjoyed it! Sigmas one was my favorite :33 anyways I think I will do hunting dogs ver. If you guys want!

Divider creds: @junkyukim on pinterest

[adorejungkook]

Baby got Back!!

CHAPTER 4

chapter. 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Synopsis; Jeon Jungkook has the fattest fucking crush on you meanwhile Jimin and Taehyung don’t find you too hard to look at either. Now Jungkook has to find a way to confess his feelings, maybe even show you, before the other two find their way into your pants during your “staycation”. 

Warnings; series, SMUT HELLO, pining, big dick!jk, male masturbation, jungkook thinks about smutting you, but it's just solo action today, seokjin is a dick sorry lol

wordcount: 1.2k, a little bit longer than usual yayyy

“Am I tripping,”, You muttered in confusion, waiting by the trunk for Jungkook to pick up the last two bags, “, or does this not look like our Airbnb?”

“Uhh, It’s a little smaller but I think I see the pool back there,” He said with a grunt as he flung his duffel bag over his shoulder, “Can I take your bag?”

“No, you took literally all of them so far,”

Yeah, Jungkook took them so you’d see how strong, manly and chivalrous he is!! He knew you were perfectly capable of taking a few bags, but how else was he supposed to show you he was boyfriend material? Maybe he’d have to break and then fix one of these sinks….after a workout with his shirt off?

He just pouted to himself as you both walked into the house, only to be met with your two incredibly angry friends staring down at Jimin’s phone.

“Jim, what the fuck is this house?” Jimin spat, turning on the speaker so the four of you could hear.

“My name is Jin, sir,” The voice rang out a bit distantly as if he wasn’t standing near his phone. He sounded completely uninterested.

“I don’t care, man. You said there were three bedrooms and we only have two!” 

“Oh yeah!” The man on the line cackled, sounding closer than before, “Not gonna lie to you, I was counting the basement as a bedroom. I had it looking super nice down there.”

“There’s a bunch of old arcade games down there though,” Taehyung pointed out, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, I needed the storage space. You guys will be alright!” The owner said and then promptly hung up the phone.

Jungkook’s first instinct was to worry about you. The purpose of getting three rooms was so that you and Jimin would have your own rooms, considering they all wanted you to be comfortable (and that Jimin had paid for this place). Now, with only two bedrooms something had to change.

“Fuck that guy. Jimin, we can share a room right?” Taehyung sighed, looking at his older friend who only nodded as he rubbed his hands over his face in response. 

“I guess that makes us roomies, huh?” You asked, looking over at Jungkook. You still sound a little bewildered by the scene that just took place.

You and Jungkook…roomies? As in, you and Jungkook sharing the same bed in said room?!

 He was sure you were trying to kill him now.

“No!” He exclaimed before clearing his throat and trying again, “Uh, no. I’ll sleep on the couch, it’s okay,” he said, hoping to convince you with his toothy grin.

“Jungkook.”

Welp, Jungkook lost. 

Next thing he knew, he was walking right behind you into the other bedroom, with his bags in hand. 

“The bed is kind of small, that Jin guy is lucky I didn’t book this place,” You said with a scowl, wiping down the dressers so you could both put your things away. 

You were right, Jungkook was sure this bed had to be smaller than a normal full-sized one.

Not only would this force him to be closer to you than ever, but Jungkook also happened to be very passionate about comfortable mattresses. He had one for each bedroom in his own home, not that he told most people that. Overall, this wasn’t the ideal situation. 

“At least there’s a bathroom in here, that’s nice,” Jungkook mumbled, folding his mass of grey sweatpants – yes, he brought underwear,– as he watch you rummage through your bag in search of something.

 Seeing your face scrunched up with genuine distaste was something new to Jungkook, he always tries his best to make you happy so he’d never have the opportunity to, and even though you looked so utterly pissed off, he could only think about how soft your lips looked between your teeth.

“Do you mind if I use it first? A bath sounds really nice right now,”

“Of course not! Go ahead,”

He watched you flutter your way into the bathroom, eyes somewhere lower than they should’ve been. He waits a minute after you turn the water on, listening to the sound of the bath filling, and hears it slosh around you when you sit. 

Jungkook contemplates whether or not he should go talk to Taehyung about switching rooms, not trusting Jimin or himself to be alone with you like this. His feet work faster than his mind as he finds himself being carried toward the door and quietly pushing it closed. 

His breath is labored now as he palms the strain in his jeans. He looks over at the bathroom door one more time before he rolls his head back and lets out a whine. Unbuttoning his jeans just enough to reach into his boxers and pull out his cock. He runs his hand over the tip, red and dribbling with precum. 

Jungkook moves to walk over towards the bathroom door, just hoping to hear you, to feel your presence before stopping in his tracks. He slicks his hand up and down his shaft, heavy in his palm before squeezing at his base. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Calm down, calm down,” He whispers to himself, sitting on the edge of your bed. His eyes are half-lidded and his mouth feels incredibly dry, but all he can think about is you.

He starts on his shaft again, at a much calmer, almost lazy pace. The feeling is almost suffocating combined with his thoughts of you. 

What were you doing right now? Were you thinking of Jungkook? 

Please be thinking of him. 

He wanted you to be just as bothered as him right now. He imagined you with your leg perched up over the tub, a hand between your silky thighs. He squeezed his eyes shut, he swore he could perfectly see your face, eyes blown out with your mouth fallen open, sweet little moans spilling out. 

His breath hitched at the thought, hand tightening as he started to buck his hips into his palm. He couldn’t control himself anymore. He wanted you so bad, he needed you. 

You were his, you had to be his.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He moaned, falling back onto the bed before he released himself from his grasp. Spurts of cum erupted from his tip, shooting onto his abs and chest with its last two twitches. 

Holy Shit.  

He tried to catch his breath as he looked around the room, trying to regain a grasp of his surroundings when his eyes landed on something directly beside his torso.

It was pink and white- wait, it was actually just pink? There was something on top of it though, what is tha-

 

His brain stops, having no way to possibly understand what he’s holding in his hand right now. 

He knows he doesn’t understand what he's looking at, because there is no way he has a pair of your panties, that belong to your perfect ass,  in his hand with his fucking jizz smeared onto them!!!

His eyes shoot toward the bedroom door when he hears a knock come from the other side, then back at your panties, the nut on his stomach, and this very incriminating situation he’s caused for himself.

Jungkook was absolutely fucked.

.

.

.

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taglist:

@yourbobaeyestell @coralmusicblaze @koikooky @jjkrinvgs @distinguisheddestiny @theladyblue @yopjm @jungkooksseuphoria @hollowtree10 @livorna @slutforwwh @hopewxride @namjoonimtheman2 @kooscameras @treethatswithpetra @canarystwin @idkreallys-blog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @jalexd @emeraldjade23 @jaehyunsbreadbasket @thatfatbussy01 @bigbootyjoonie @jiimtaee @boys0verflowers @kooklovesu @petalsofink @tornparts @telepathytae @jkjeon9709 @uarmyhopelover @multilingual-kpop @swga-recs

[canigetawaho]

It took me some time but I'm finally ready yey. Keep in mind that this is in no particular order, it's just easier to put it like that and if you have something you want to say about round 6 or anything else really I will gladly listen :)

1. I love the fact that they put that heartbeat like sound before their parts and that high sound. It makes me think that Till became more and more agitated and that sound (probably caused by the microfoane being turned on or something) is very similar to what you hear when you have high blood pressure (especially when you're very stressed out) while Ivan's heartbeat seems very calm, like he had accepted his fate (but the fact that the high pitch appears here too makes me think about Ivan being actually scared but trying to hide it). It might be a stretch but in my opinion, it makes things even more interesting :)

2. I find that camera effect interesting (the one that appears when Ivan collapses) because it's beautiful but also because the moment I saw it, I thought about round 3 (oh take me back to simpler times)

3. The fact that there is an alarm type of sounds makes me think that it comes from the rebels trying to save them only to be discovered. They were probably kept under control, that being the reason why they didn't stop the show and just kept the alarm going and observed the situation (so I wasn't that surprised to see the scene after the credits but the confirmation still hurts because there was hope)

4. I just couldn't bring myself to watch the clip a second time so there are a lot of things that could have gone over my head so I was quite surprised when a friend of mine pointed out the scene when the rain stoped but the applause came and how cruel the audience was because in my state I didn't even realise the switch I thought it was still raining :( (kinda like a period at the end of a sentence if it makes sense lol)

5. And last but not least, the animation. It's just getting better and better. They have created expectations and delivered them perfectly with everything in regards to this round

I am surprised that this round could take the spot of my favorite round (wich is round 5 by the way) . Personally, I believe that Ivan wanted to die alongside Till (I assume it never happened in the history of the show for both contestants to die so it would have been interesting, not to mention, bring a sense of peace to both boys). I am moved by how much Till trusted Ivan, regardless of his motives or how he interpreted Ivan's actions. Although it kinda gave me Hyuna with Luka toxic vibes at times, I think, deep down, Till really cares about Ivan even if he doesn't show it in the way Ivan wants him to (but he shows he cares, he always did and that's what matters)

And one last thing (I know it's long already, and maybe it doesn't say much sorry) but I was thinking about the reason why they made 2 versions of the song and I think that they tried to offer some closure to us, some happiness because the version were they sing together gives me hope in some way while the other one seems to have been cut short. Maybe it's also meant to give Ivan and Till a chance to say what they wanted to say (or maybe it's just the full song and they decided it would be more impactful if they cut it at the right time unlike with My Clematis were it seemed that Mizi kept singing even after Sua's death and they wanted us to have heard everything so we have now 2 versions)

[straycalamities]

alright i been meaning to do this so:

what is and is not allowed to be done with any of my characters! this includes art, fics, edits, headcanons, whathaveyou

[general content/trigger warning for uncomfortable, possibly-triggering topics because this is mainly the gist of what i dont want to see]

x = never ? = ask for permission

do nots: x - no noncon (if you engage to work through your feelings, never make my characters the perpetrators, it skeeves me out) ? - no genderbends/sexswaps/whatever they're called anymore? idk just don't mess with their gender, pronouns*, or assigned-sex-at-birth as a general thing unless i already have or okayed you directly. triple-especially if they're not cis x - respect their romantic orientations/sexualities! if you don't know a character's then you can ask me, but yeah. ie: don't ship andrew with women, he's homosexual x - [NSFW] absolutely no ageplay kinks or anything like that with my characters. no raceplay. just..nothing like that. x - no pregnancy. no mpreg. no omegaverse. none of it. (i've come a long way from it being straight-up a trigger but still, yea,) i have had some of my characters naturally be pregnant/have babies but i'd rather handle it myself, if you know what i mean x - this is a duh, but nothing hateful/bigoted using my characters. like, for instance, i do joke abt shit and say mainverse!entre is a conservative but don't unironically use him for anything awful like that. joking/memeing around about his terrible political stances is fine though x - i would never write or have my characters telling anyone to "kill yourself" so please don't have them say stuff like that. even if it's a joke. it makes me uncomfortable. (there may be a few exceptions in my giant roster of ocs but as a general rule just avoid it) x - never use my ocs likenesses or art of them as art for your own ocs. that's never okay. my ocs designs are for my own characters only.

*it's okay to have neopronoun headcanons

okay! generally anything i havent said isn't okay IS okay, but just so anyone reading this has a clearer idea

it's okay to use my characters for expressing yourself, venting, or just personal stuff like that. if my characters help you through something, go ahead and express it. i'm happy they help :)

playing around with gender presentation (not gender) is perfectly okay with any of my characters

shipping in general is fine as long as it doesnt go against the don'ts list. i dont care who you ship them with

[NSFW] i'm okay with pretty much any other kinks other than anything that goes into noncon, bigotry, or underage so go wild even if it's not my thing personally i don't care. (ie: the swagtre piss fic? lol im not a watersports guy but chase your bliss)

my characters are all free game for anything horror themed as well. horror as a genre, body horror, psychological horror, whatever. go for it. i have a personal major squick for eye gore but i can handle (and enjoy) pretty much anything else in this realm. go as gorey or not as you like (just tag appropriately for other ppls sakes)

handling self-harm/suicide idealization themes is technically? okay? for my characters? just uh...be respectful i guess. and definitely tag appropriately. this theme is canon for a few of them so i am okay with it just handle it with care is what i'm saying

go ham-buck-wild with mental illness headcanons or projections or anything like that. i dont think i have an oc that doesn't have at least something, so if you see yourself in their symptoms, go for it. only some of them i have personal labels for some of their stuff but otherwise it's whatever. just be respectful, again.

kinning is also okay! kin, synpath anything like that. go ahead! go wild with it. i think it's neat. just be respectful.

and an important note to all of this, other than being respectful to others and the characters themselves, is to respect me. just because it's okay that you do it with my character, doesn't mean i have to agree with it or make it canon or anything like that. it just means i gave you permission to engage like that. so please don't come to me trying to ask or force me to change something about my own characters or get so lost in your headcanons you start to disrespect what i've established myself

and if you ever have any questions about them or any of this, just let me know. i'm always happy to help

also yet again DONT REPOST MY NSFW ART ARGHHHH!!!

[sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully]

Hey! Your hcs are so amazing💕 I was wondering if you could write a Wally Darling x autistic reader… I’m autistic and this would be very meaningful to me

Btw sorry for the english, I am brazillian and not used to write in any language that isn’t portuguese lol

That’s perfectly okay, friend!! I think you did just fine (with the wording of your message, I mean) !! :] /g and thank you!!

And sure thing!! I’m autistic, too :D so I’m happy to write for this!! Haha!!

Pluffy Fluffy

Wally Darling x GN!Autistic!Reader

Headcanons Format, Relation can be interpreted by the Reader!

Please note, everyone is different on the Autism Spectrum! I loosely based this off of my own experience, but you are free to request again and specify where you lie, or how yours represents itself!! I would be happy to personalize it, more :]

Wally Darling is a lovely companion to have when you’re on the autism spectrum! He has it, himself. :]

Though his manifests in its own way, with its own mannerisms, he still can very easily understand your own standpoint— whether it’s akin to his or not!

Specifically, he’s quite good when it comes to overstimulation.

Wally’s an observant one— for everyone in his life. He knows the indicators that something is getting “too much” for just about anyone, and that very much includes you.

Whether your start getting jittery, angry, spacey, or however it is you begin to behave when undergoing too much, he learns the signs of it.

If you’re one to devolve into mumbling, or go nonverbal, he’s perfectly okay to sit with you until you get your words together. If there are tools that help you communicate, he is sure to remind you of them so you can use them— if you’d like to. If you don’t want to? He’ll just stay by you, if you’d like to have company.

He takes great care in asking and finding out what helps you during overstimulation, as well.

If you’re one to need a complete environment change, he is expertly skilled in peacefully intervening whatever interaction and getting you out of it stress-free!

And if being placed into a quiet environment helps; he’s got many quiet, serene spots he’d be happy to share!

If going to your home would help most, though, he’ll gladly walk you— and if you’d like company, he’d stay with you.

Really, anywhere you’d like to go, he’d be happy to be by your side!

If you need someone to squeeze, or just let it out to, he’s also happy to help with that! Although he may not embrace you back (not because he doesn’t want to!.. He just doesn’t know that he should), he is happy to oblige!

If touching people isn’t your thing, though, he’s also got a stress ball somewhere around here..

Or, if you’re maybe just someone that needs to be entirely alone to calm down? That’s okay, too, he entirely understands— for he’s the same, that way.

Regardless of what you need, he will try to help in any way he can!

Which very much includes guiding you through grounding methods, too, if need be.. He likes to think his voice can be soothing!

Now, on the contrary, when it comes to under-stimulation? He’s quite the helper there, too!

He tries to get you to do something, really— which has included offers of painting (which also includes finger painting), letting you ramble to him (or having him ramble to you, if you’d want!.. He’s just a bit hard to get going.. but he’s willing to try, at the very least), or maybe just going on a walk. If company helps you in any way, shape, or form; he’s there.

Whatever it is that helps you, he is there to provide if it calls for him to!

When it comes to textures, Wally is a very texture-orientated person. He’s perpetually in a state of being somewhat under-stimulated, but textures help him with that!

With that in mind, if you’re similar? He will gladly show you what he finds textures on! It isn’t uncommon to find him running his hands along something, extremely content.

He especially notes which textures give you euphoria, or that you just like, and will try to show you them!

With textures that make you uncomfortable, though? He’ll keep it in mind! And, to be frank, he doesn’t mind being a sort of “texture tester”.

“Ah.. this shirt wouldn’t feel good, to you.. it’s scratchy.”

Speaking of shirts, he’d be delighted to help you find texture-safe clothing, if it’s something you’d need or want help with!

Along with tags. He’s got a seam cutter just for tags, and he’d be happy to help you remove your own without damaging the clothing, if you’d like!

If you two are physically close (he can perfectly understand not being someone who likes physical contact, so no worries!), he takes great care to make sure any of the clothing he wears around you isn’t a “bad texture”.

Speaking of physical touch; he’s perfectly fine if you’re one to not like it. He’s got his own ways of showing affection beyond it! Affection, in his eyes, is so much more than just physical intimacy.

Ah, and noises.. Wally, himself, has a bit of noise sensitivity. Specifically, clearing of throats can get a bit.. much for him, if done too much too fast.

If you’re similar? He understands entirely— and he has many, many quiet spots he’d love to share (as was mentioned earlier)!

If you’re one to get overstimulated by sounds quite quickly, he will try— when he can— to give you a heads up if anything might have noises that might cause you to fall into a state like that.

“Howdy’s shop.. has an old bell, on the door.. so.. try to open it carefully.. it’s a bit screechy.. and there’s an A.C in.. his store— so there’s.. a constant kind of.. ‘whrrr’..”

And.. ah, his.. very intense eye contact. He fully understands if if makes someone else uncomfortable, and he would make it clear you don’t have to return it if it discomforts you.

If just having him stare so intensely is a discomfort in general, he’d try to tone it down.. though it’s a bit difficult. He wouldn’t mind reminders, though.

Wooh boy! Whether or not you’re similar, he in particular struggles on social cues and tones. For that, his own voice tends to be rather flat— but he’d never mind clarifying how he meant something he said, if asked!

But with the social cues? Oh boy.

You have to communicate directly with him— or else he just.. Won’t Get It. Not for a lack of trying, but it either just flies over his head, or he doesn’t understand.

So he appreciates direct-ness, and honesty. He doesn’t take either as offending, whatsoever!

For this, though, he’s very blunt and honest in return. He means absolutely no harm! But he isn’t the best at softening his words. To be fair, though, it’s not like he’d have to very often— even for someone quite sensitive. He seems to, almost naturally, structure his sentences softer— he just can’t seem to do it on command.

Ahh, special interest and fixations!

He loves to listen to people talk, to see them happy and ramble.

With that, he is always open to you talking to him about your interests as a whole, or whatever you’ve got on your mind!

He isn’t one to engage very much beyond nodding and smiling, but do not be mistaken— he is listening to every word.

Specifically, he tries to get you things that relate to your interest.

If you like stars? He might paint you a painting of them! If you like bugs, he’ll certainly try to borrow a few books from Frank to read them over so he can hopefully understand what you’re talking about more..

Whatever it is, he tries to understand and learn— he wants you to feel heard, and that is how he tries to express that you are!

When it comes to stimming, he actually quite enjoys sort of mirroring however it is you stim!

He tends to stim himself by humming, or wiggling his head side to side.

But when it comes to you, or his friends, doing as such? He tends to join! He isn’t really sure why he does this, but he enjoys it— and means it well!

If you rock, he’ll rock with you. If you flap your hands, he’ll do the same!!

If you don’t like this, though, he won’t do it to you! But he’s delighted to see you stim— when it’s positive, of course.

In the case you’re stimming due to negative feelings? He’ll just try to help you in whatever way helps you best!!

Overall, he just cares a whole awful lot— and understands where you come from, entirely. No matter where you land, or what helps you, he will be there to understand. He’s there for you! Forever and always

Ahh!! I hope this was enjoyable!! I tried very hard to make it apply to a majority HAHA I’m hoping my own experiences didn’t influence too much!!

Also please ignore the double yellow bars down here <:] I literally cannot get rid of them on mobile— so I have to wait until I’m on laptop to do as such!- (EDIT : Fixed it! BWAHA)

Edit : I FORGOT TO COVER STIMMING, AH.. I AM SILLY… I have added it near the bottom! :]

Have a lovely day!!!

[nono-bunny]

Obey Me Nightbringer lesson 36: aka Lucifer third wheeling on MC and Mephisto's date

No but fr I always get so happy whenever he appears, this lesson is such a blessing!! There was even a small romantic moment!!! Thirteen and Raphael have also been having their moments lately and I genuinely feel that with how close we're getting to season 3, they might finally debut as LI!!!! Honestly I just mostly want Mephisto,,, But Raphael and Thirteen are really fun characters too and I just know they'll be great romancebles too

This post has been in my drafts for a bit so now lesson 37 came out and!! Oh my god I am so jealous of Belphie, I wanted to make a deal with Mephisto wtf :'(

Anyway after this lesson I feel a bit more confident about season 3 being the one to finally introduce Mephisto, Thirteen and Raphael as LIs, because they really all seem to be perfectly placed for it rn- Mephisto joined us on a mission to save Lucifer, Thirteen has once again established herself as a trustworthy confidant to MC, and Raphael is showing doubts toward the Celestial Realm... All of them are the closest they've ever been to the MC rn (at least in NB, I'm still in early season 3 of OG and have to constantly use rainbow lights hhh) while we're super close to the end of season 2... Idk the cards just seem to align!!! I'm honestly really hoping I'm right on this because fr the past two lessons only further reinforced for me how badly I wanna romance Mephisto lol

Also, I was half expecting Simeon to get sentenced too but obviously that hasn't happened yet and Barbatos, Solomon, us and Simeon himself are the only ones who could possibly know rn about how his future is to fall sooo. Makes sense that he didn't but... It really made me think of him lol.

Also I genuinely think THIS is the moment where the timeline diverges too much for us to be able to go back to our future. Everyone is at the edge of some sort of breakthrough that contradicts how they start off in OG, and like. Obviously Lucifer is gonna make a pact with us by the end of the season, and? Either that ends NB and continues the OG story which will be about dealing with the fact that all of the cast now has different memories of the past which now includes us, which is why OG is still active (unlikely, I think it's pretty much abandoned and they're just keeping it up for as long as possible rn which. I'm cool with, NB is much more fun, they should just add an archive in NB so the OG stories aren't lost and take it down imo), or... We find out that our future no longer exists, which is how we return at the start of season 3 of NB after departing at the end of season 2- there's no going back anymore after how long we've stayed and how much we've changed.

[allaganexarch]

wip wednesday! (it is thursday)

Thank you so much @thevikingwoman for the tag!! As is becoming custom I am here to drop some nonsense from before school beat me with a stick. Idk how close ghost of you part 3 is to being done because I'm pretty sure it's gonna end up having a part 4 LOL, but here is the beginning!

I'm not gonna tag anyone rn bc I lack the brain capacity but pls feel free to share and pretend I tagged you! It's wip wednesday-thursday ♥

--

Moiraine always had a knack for compartmentalizing.  She never thought much about it, really, it was just the way her mind worked.  She was like her father, who could love his family one day and very nearly forget they existed the next, because he was so involved in his latest project that he had simply…tucked them safely away somewhere, to be loved properly at a more convenient time.

Anvaere’s mind does not work the same way, and nor did their mother’s.  For them, Father’s occasional abandonment seeped into everything around it, the proverbial fruit of the poisonous tree.  By their estimation, he did not get to love them one day and leave them the next, and in retrospect, Moiraine supposes she can understand that.

In practice it was rather miserable, though.  Anvaere moped, while their mother made a hobby of building resentment.

Moiraine considers in passing that she’s doing a rather magnificent job of encompassing both of her family’s tried and true traditions in her misery, hiding herself away most of the time, but still managing to make the whole place intolerable when she is present.

It would be much easier, she thinks, if Lan would just leave her alone.  Neither Verrin nor Adeleas has any desire for Moiraine’s company—and rightly so.  They are perfectly happy to aid their sister in her time of need without demanding the wretched details.  One doesn’t hear much about women being stilled, but then again, one doesn’t need to.  The mention alone is chilling.  They understand even without any comparable experience.

But Lan keeps on knocking at her door, keeps inviting her to meals, inviting her on walks, inviting her to do anything, anything at all, anything she wants, and she doesn’t know how to tell him that there is nothing she wants anymore, and there never can be.

She tells herself it is something of a relief to be free of the notion that she might set herself right again.  It would have been a colossal waste of time.  Better to be done with it now and move onto what is important.  After all, she herself hardly matters.  She let Rand go because she’d thought the matter was done with, but she realized quickly that it wasn’t, and now she needs to ascertain what will come next.

It’s something to occupy her mind, but there’s no joy in chasing down the mystery.  Her days are filled with dead ends and tiresome visitors who overplay their hands.  They misjudge Moiraine because the way to determine how much leverage one holds is to guess what the other person wants, what the other person cares for, and they do not understand that Moiraine wants nothing and cares for nothing.

In all their years traveling together, Lan has never once snapped at her like that.  There was a time when it would have brought her a sick sort of delight.  She used to try all the time to get a rise out of him, to make him lash out at her so she could feel justified cutting him off.  She’d never had someone so steady in her life, and it confused and frightened her.

His outburst reaches her, in a way.  She realizes she can’t go on like this hoping he’ll eventually stop trying.  She resolves to leave under cover of night, hoping at least that he is angry enough with her not to notice her missing right away.

She hadn’t counted on three Fades.  One, perhaps, if she were very unlucky.  But Moiraine herself is not particularly important, and certainly not at the moment.  She led the Dragon to the Eye of the World, yes, but it’s not as though the Dark didn’t get something out of that.  By all accounts she should be less than nothing now.  An Aes Sedai who cannot channel?  Who has no Warder, no family, no friends left to look out for her?

With a terrible lurching sensation, suddenly Moiraine is in two places at once.  She is here and not here, lying on the ground outside Verrin’s estate and back at the Eye of the World, and somehow, Lan has found her yet again.  He finds her without the bond, without magic, without anything to guide him.  Moiraine feels more than she’s felt in months.  She feels angry, and relieved, and devastated.  He can’t be here.  They cannot keep doing this.

If Moiraine is still a target, then she has to get Lan away from her.  She can’t keep him safe like this, and he’ll die trying to protect her because it’s what he’s sworn to do.  She doesn’t know what she’s been doing up until now, hoping he’d tire of her coldness and drift away on his own.  It was selfish of her.  She didn’t want to strike the killing blow, make him really hate her, make the split impossible to reconcile.

But what would be really, unforgivably selfish would be to keep him around when she knows it will get him killed.  It would be a senseless death, defending something that’s no longer worth the price.

Necessity doesn’t make the burden any easier to bear.

[trellia]

I think this post is a long time coming. But also, maybe 1 - someone has pointers to help and 2 - maybe someone else is struggling similarly and would like to know said pointers too.

I have been quite the recluse the past few months. From everyone, really. Why that is why I’m making this post. If you feel like I’ve been drawing away, you’re not wrong. I have. I’ve not been doing too good since… I’d say October. A lot of events have turned my world around for one, realizing what I am living in and not what I thought I was living in. That was something on its own…. At the same time, I was going through the steps to figure out if I have ADHD. I found out a couple months ago that yes, indeed, I do have ADHD.

The diagnosis was first a relief: finally, I now know there’s nothing wrong with me, I’m just wired different. However, relief soon turned into contempt. I became very, very angry. I am very angry. I just reached my 40’s. For at least 35+ years, I’ve been degraded and hurt by the people who should have protected me, understood me, especially in my childhood. Teachers, principals and parents of other children took part in this bullying campaign their children had going, only because I wasn’t following the ‘norms’. I endured trauma so great that I can barely function today.

I mean, I look at the videos of my childhood and I see it immediately: I’m not like the other kids. I’m more hyper, excited, and I just want everyone to take part in the fun, but I’m too much for it. It’s right there. I was called names by adults, and scolded for not doing things the way neurotypical people would. I was called lazy. I was told I don’t care for anyone but myself when, in fact, I have always put everyone ahead of me because I would rather see them happy than be happy myself. So you can imagine how difficult it was to hear that I am selfish and don’t care for anyone else…

I’m also angry at the current people in my life. Some of which have told me to ‘fix’ myself because I was an inconvenience they didn’t want to deal with. So I tried EVERY way to do so, and of course that didn’t work because I was trying to put bandaids on symptoms rather than help with what was the actual problem, but then when I asked for help, I was shunned away like I didn’t deserve it. I lost an entire decade (my late 20’s and my 30’s) asking myself what the hell is wrong with me, why am I such a terrible person, and why can’t I do anything right, and spending my 30’s walking on eggshells everywhere AND in the rpc because I was connection deprived and needed everyone to love me, which led to nefarious people taking advantage and hurt me further. (that’s a post for another day.)

Now here’s the main problem: I’m so angry I want to hurt someone. Not physically, but in every other way. It doesn’t matter who you are, I just want to lash out, whoever you are, friend or otherwise. An example: a friend made a new original character that is actually perfectly fine and pretty good, it’s a great OC! — but inside all I want to do is destroy that break their love for the OC and ruin it for them. Just… because. And that’s NOT okay. The good news is that I see it, I realize it. Which is why I have isolated myself. None of my friends deserve this. But I am angry. I am enraged, because I feel I’ve lost most of my life ‘fixing’ myself until I masked so hard I didn’t even realize until it slipped at 28. I know exactly when it slipped too.

Also, considering the kind of world we live in, I feel like I’ve lived past the mid-mark of my life. I’m not sure I’ll live up to 50 at this point. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair at all that I had to go through all this and still suffer. So yes, I’m very angry. But I also don’t WANT to hurt anyone. Especially not the people I care for… This is why I have not been on disco.rd. I have removed FB (because I wanted to for a long time tho lol ), tiktok… And have mostly removed myself from public spaces.

If you have pointers or ideas on how to get past that anger, please, please share. I don’t really know what to do with it. I don’t know how to tame it. And it scares me tbh. I don’t want to be like this. This isn’t me… but it’s so hard not to be angry…

So… yah: if I don’t respond on disco or otherwise, or not right away, it’s not you, I’m the one stepping away so I won’t say something I really don’t mean just for the sake of harming someone because I can’t accept what has been done to me.

If you read this far, thank you. Otherwise, here’s the jinx of it:

tldr; I was officially diagnosed with ADHD and realized I’ve been treated terribly by my peers because of it and shunned away when I asked for help, so now I’m extremely angry at everything and want to hurt someone (anyone) though I don’t really want to. How do I get over this?

[bthump]

Idk I too want better for Casca but I really dislike the hype for Casca potentially becoming an apostle, these users put it far better than i would:

https://www.tumblr.com/deripmaver/723418827650727936/why-i-am-a-hater-of-the-apostle-casca

https://www.tumblr.com/deripmaver/723493450382802944/im-so-happy-to-find-another-casca-apostle-hater https://

I skimmed these posts to see whether there were any points made that I felt like "responding" to, and there's a few.

First, Casca being a good person has nothing to do with anything except people not wanting her to become a monster, which I obviously don't vibe with because I think the concept of a good person becoming a monster fucks hard, which is one reason I like Berserk a whole lot. And I think a potential Moonbaby sacrifice would fit perfectly with one of the "good person" sacrifice examples they give: the 'person you loved the most and hated the most' sacrifice motivation, since it's intertwined with Griffith in some metaphysical way and it could be a two for the price of one deal. It's almost too on the nose.

Second, I don't think it necessitates Casca joining Griffith. Griffith seems to be out of the Godhand now, incarnated on the physical realm, presumably no longer presiding over sacrifices, and my favourite worldbuilding pet theory is actually that the godhand and Griffith will be at odds. Something's gotta threaten the godhand's existence since something wiped out the last cycle that we saw in Skull Knight's memory, and an incarnate fifth that appears right on schedule seems like just the thing.

Third, Casca's apostle trauma is, if anything, a sign in favour of her becoming an apostle since like, everyone in Berserk is at least tempted to symbolically become their abuser/rapist/nemesis as part of gaining power, eg:

Why can't Casca get in on the interesting and complicated moral and emotional greys here? This is good shit, I want it for Casca. I want her to be tempted to become what she fears, to escape her own sense of powerlessness through abandoning her morals. It's just a more direct version of Guts wanting to become a monster since that's rooted in rape trauma and both the narrative and Guts himself equates monsters to both his rapist and abuser.

I didn't see them mention the fact that apostles are compelled to love Griffith which to me seems like one of the best arguments against it (though again, I skimmed so maybe I missed it), but Ganishka resisted that, and Casca has a long history of repressing her love for Griffith so I think it could actually be a neat, and overcomeable extension of her human feelings.

Another big and better argument against it, particularly after the last couple chapters, is that Miura clearly just did not give a shit about Casca lol. And I mean I already knew that, one reason I thought the apostle Casca theory held water is that it would be a way for Miura to avoid writing Casca's trauma realistically and instead veer into one big dramatic moment followed by fantastical metaphor while keeping her a less nuanced plot point, albeit a more active and fun one than she had been so far. Instead his way of avoiding writing Casca's trauma realistically was to have her faint any time she thinks about it and then take away her personality AGAIN. So yeah, unfortunately I just don't think Miura wanted Casca to be badass and actively affect the plot. Idk if he ever knew what to do with her after deciding not to kill her off just to motivate Guts post-Eclipse.

Finally I just don't know if there's really time for that anymore. My vision was an Empire Strikes Back style end of second act downturn. Casca becomes a monster and sets a new arc in motion, Guts falls into despair and succumbs to the armour, shit gets real and interesting again for a while. Instead Guts' second act downturn is being mad that Griffith is still a god lol. She could definitely still go apostle at the climax of the story, and you better believe I'm still rooting for that, but idk if it'd be as satisfying lol. But I guess we'll see.

Anyway yeah you're free to disagree with any of my hot takes, but you're not gonna convince me Casca shouldn't become an apostle, because my reasoning ultimately boils down to "I would enjoy it." I would certainly enjoy it a hell of a lot more than fainting damsel in distress Casca which is what we're dealing with right now lol. If your reasoning boils down to "I would not enjoy it" then I probably won't convince you either, and that's fine. We'll find out what's going to happen eventually.

And finally I want to err on the side of caution and make it clear that I have no interest in arguing with the user you linked, and I hope you're not planning to be like, some kind of anonymous go-between linking posts back and forth. I used the linked posts as a bouncing off point to explain some of my reasoning, and that's the end of it as far as I'm concerned.