#stupid app shows me my dash when i clicked

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

Okay wait

Remember

Edvin confirmed weiner dogs for Wilmon

…Wilmon endgame 💜🌭

[tboybuck]

here, have a little modern steddie meet-cute. meet-ugly, maybe? idk. 1k words, mostly dialogue

"uber for, uh," the guy in the beemer at the curb looks at the phone in his hand, "eddie m.?"

"hey, that's my name!" eddie shouts, stumbling toward the car. the world is tipping sideways a little, but it's been a good night.

he wrenches open the passenger side door and slides in.

"cool if i sit up front, man? i get motion sickness sitting in the back, and you would not like me when i'm motion sick."

"uh, sure?"

eddie pulls the door closed behind him and says, "so what's your name, pretty boy?"

"you don't check the app before getting into some random guy's car?" the guy asks with a huff.

"oh, no, i never order these things for myself." eddie laughs. he tries to think back, remember how many jameson shots he put back tonight. can't. oh, well. "my roommate always sets it up beforehand when i come down to the styx for a show."

"a show? like a concert?"

"uh, no. drag show. styx is a gay bar." the guy's quiet at that. "that a problem? still dunno your name."

"oh. steve," the guy - steve - says shortly. "no, it just... looks more like a... metal bar, or something."

"sometimes things are both, can you believe it! they do a drag show last wednesday of every month. good show tonight, all the girls looked great." he kicks his feet up on the dashboard of the car, watches steve's eyes cut sideways at them as he does. "do you like drag shows, steve?"

he's testing the waters, feeling steve out to see if he should be worried about getting into some random guy's car outisde a gay bar with a dead phone. eddie's definitely had a little too much tonight. he's probably got glitter in his hair. there's definitely black lipstick smeared across his cheek from when allison chaynz planted one on him earlier during her set.

"only been to a few, but yeah. they're a good time. good show."

safe, then. tentatively.

eddie studies steve for a moment, trying to figure him out. he's got this thing he does sometimes, in an uber; eddie's an easy read - he gets into an uber and the driver immediately flips their spotify over to a metal playlist.

the driver's are usually easy to read too, and it's eddie's favorite game; he tends to know when he's got a country boy behind the wheel, or an emo transplant from the mid aughts, or the indie girlies with their iced coffees and perpetual dark undereye circles that all the concealer in the world can't hide.

the guy looks like he wears teenage boy deodorant and smells like repressed trauma. he has the indie girlie dark circles under his eyes, an apple watch strapped to his wrist. rich boy. drives a beemer. good hair, stupid highlights. there's a tube of burt's bees cherry lip balm in the center console and a days old energy drink in the cupholder.

"hmmm, the front bottoms," he decides at last, after staring at steve for what must have been an uncomfortably long time.

"i'm sorry?"

"i said, the front bottoms."

"is that a... what's the word... a euphemism?"

"no, steeeeve. it's a band. check 'em out sometime, your daddy issues'll thank you. do you like music, steve?"

"sure."

eddie clicks his tongue. "smells like bullshit. no one who likes music says sure when someone asks if they like music."

they're stopped at a stoplight. from behind the wheel, steve is studying him right back, looking him up and down, his gaze coming to rest once again on eddie's shoes on the dash.

"get your feet down," steve says, pushing at eddie's shins. "do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"fine, fine. so if you don't listen to music, steve, what do you listen to in this fancy bmw?"

"sports, mostly," steve shrugs. "podcasts sometimes."

"oh, boy, you are a walking red flag, aren't you? shame you're so pretty."

"well what about you? what do you listen to?"

"guess."

"i dunno, probably that metal shit. five finger whatever, or something."

eddie presses his hand to his chest. "five finger - oh, stevie, i am wounded. i wouldn't be caught dead listening to bro rock."

out of the corner of his eye, he definitely catches a smile from steve.

steve holds an aux cable out to him. "here, then. wow me. show me some real metal or whatever."

"god, i'd love to take you up on that," eddie says, huffing out a little laugh. he holds his phone up. "this sucker's been dead for hours."

this time steve's the one to click his tongue. "shame."

"truly. so what's your story, steven? what's got you out at three in the morning?"

"it's my night off," steve shrugs. "just started night shift at the hospital, trying to get used to the new sleep schedule."

"mmm, the hospital. you a nurse?"

"i am. trauma nurse."

"nice. ever see any gnarly injuries?"

"had a pretty fucked up dog bite come in the other night."

"shit."

"yeah." another stoplight, another unsubtle once over from steve. "so what about you? what do you do?"

"line cook."

steve's eyes linger on him a little longer than necessary. "oh, but i'm the walking red flag. got it."

"whoa," eddie laughs. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i've dated line cooks. everyone's dated a line cook."

"sounds like something a slut would say, steve. craziest dick you've ever had, huh?"

"mmm."

it's not a denial.

they're getting close to eddie's building now, and that's an actual shame. because steve's cute. he needs a haircut maybe, and the stubble around his mouth and chin is just on the wrong side of five o'clock shadow, but he's got these distracting little moles along his face and neck and arm that eddie's been itching to play connect the dots with since he got in the car.

"wait, i know this building," steve says as he slows at the curb and looks at the address on his phone again. "my roommate's girlfriend lives in this building."

it clicks into place, then, for eddie.

"oh, shit! you're robin's steve!"

steve's eyebrows draw together as he gapes at eddie, and then his eyes go wide with realization. "chrissy's ed?"

"eddie," he corrects. "gotta be a level twenty friend to call me ed. and chrissy's the only level twenty friend i'll ever have."

"noted. good to finally meet you, man. i, uh. i guess this is you, then, huh?"

"yeah, sure is. maybe i'll see ya around." eddie goes to get out of the car.

"oh, you will," steve says, his smile lopsided and goofy. "i'll make sure of it."

"hold ya to it," eddie promises with a wink.

steve wiggles his fingers in a flirtatious wave as eddie walks backward on the sidewalk toward his building.

so robin's steve is cute. maybe he should have been letting chrissy set them up this whole time.

still. sports and podcasts. guy's a walking red flag. who knows, maybe they're green. eddie's never been able to see the difference anyway.

[theinconveniencing]

i need you to know that every time i like one of your posts on mobile, my dash sends me either forward or back 50 posts or so and it drives me fucking insane. it doesn’t do this for anyone else as consistently, like it’s happened with other people a few times, but for you it’s every damn time. and it’s cause everytime i like a post of yours it gives me that stupid “turn on notifs for jovalencia!” thing and i’m like if i was gonna do it i would have done that by now and also WHY do you keep sending me into orbit everytime that shows up. anyways nevertheless we persist and i will keep liking your posts

omfg😭 you're my most dedicated follower for that thats fucking ridiculous. if I had to guess why tho I think it's because I Don't use mobile. like i post from my phone but I use tumblr in safari rather than the app😭 idk tho that's just my theory thank you for your ongoing support don’t forget to smash that like button click that bell so you can be notified when make a new post🫶

[slimeranch7]

yo has anyone played path to nowhere? i had it on my list of games to try a while ago but i literally havent clicked on the app until like yesterday cuz of how busy the semester's been. i havent gotten far at all in the story so my grasp on the shackle mechanics and mental warfare everyone has to go through is still pretty shallow, but its not just the plot and gacha that got me hooked...

i'll admit its the fact that you literally get to shackle hot ladies to your will knowing that they could probably cleanly slit your throat after fucking you stupid if you so much as let your guard down for a fraction of a second. maybe purposefully overloading your senses by abusing the connection to get you all overwhelmed and compliant. taking control of your flustered state but then making a show out of relinquishing it after they've thoroughly fucked you up just because they know for a fact that you can't (you won't) do anything about it.

taking full advantage of the fact that there's too much guilt and mental baggage for you to berate them for rawing you silly in your own office even after you've asked them to calm down and stop harrassing you. chalking it up to having unstable M levels whenever they get particularly aggressive even though you both know full well that the shackles should have it perfectly under control. shackled sinners competing with each other to see who can get their oh-so-stoic chief to cry or pass out or worst of all, beg. hah, imagine a master begging to their own dogs.

except they're not dogs. they're fully sentient human beings with their own thoughts and desires and needs (and a dash of 'angst, unfortunate pasts and circumstances'). what they think of is how well they could ruin their cute, naive little chief who thinks she's safe from corruption and ruin with her cute little shackle powers. what they desire is to hold your power, your dignity, in their hands only for them to crush it right above you. what they need is for you to plead and beg for their mercy when they corner your at the most unsuspecting moments.

like that power dynamic has got my hands shakin n heart racin. im burning through ao3 fics at an embarrassingly fast rate.

tell me im trash for liking this shit or somethin pls 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭i cant do this i need somewhere to let all of this out

also this doesnt mean im stopping genshin stuff!!! i'm currently splitting myself between a kokomi, ying'er (yes i know...) and ayaka piece. it's just perfectionism hindering me from posting anything for a good while. merry crisis everyone!!! 🎄🎄🎄🎄

[j1998v]

venting again!!!!!, ignore me mamacita

after everything that had happened to me I'd made rules and keep my distance. until you came into my life. we clicked instantly, we talked for hours everyday, sometimes even spend whole days talking through text. send pictures of everything that happened in our lives respectively because we were the first persons we thought of. heck I remember that time when we were constantly on each other's minds and dream of each other. I put your city in my clock app. we both stayed up all night to talk to the other person as it was always day for them. I miss you. I miss you dearly, I miss you so much. everytime I remember that I dont have a message from you I get sad, then angry then cry and cry and cry until my pillow is damp and I am numb. I just want to talk to you again. what about our promises? we said we would make frog bread and live together in the future. you would always eat your stupid brownie and I would send selfies with my bucket hat filter on. what about our inside jokes, who will I share them with? remember how I always used to send you songs, how I would complain about the internet, how you would send your emojis and end your sentence with a dash. I am okay, I am healing. I do not feel a force coming up my nose and my eyes water at the slight thought of you anymore. I just. literally have so much to tell you. I lost interest in stray kids. I like tom scott now, I like dsmp I discovered new music I added new songs to the playlist I made for you please listen to them I made edits I think youll like them I kept drawing I think like them please come back and show me your drawings too. show me that rainbow that used to appear on the highway. show me the drawings your little sister made. I download roblox now too we can play together we'll play brookhaven just. you cannot just leave without saying anything. it has been 2 years.

[mizunetzu]

Atsumu + Alcohol

If you make him drunk, I will hug you. Also, glad to see you’re back! :>

He’s drunk. Hug me. Now. But ehehe it makes me happy that you’re glad I’m back :,) NOW HERES DRUNK ATSUMU!

Also only @shiny-bun wanted to be tagged sobs reeeeeaaaal confidence booster I know :,)

——————

Atsumu x reader - Sweet, Sweet Lies Called Drunk Miya Atsumu

⚠️warnings - mentions of alcohol through the fic. reader records videos of atsumu drunk whenever he sees him. It isn’t in a sexual way at all; and reader doesn’t touch atsumu unconsentually at all. Just likes to watch him drunk bc he loves him still :,)

Also: FUCKING ANGST. you know it’s fuckign angsty when I got emotional writing it. Also, grammarly proof read it don’t trust it.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“I think we should break up.” 

(Y/n) blinked, before down casting his head. He said nothing for a while, before opening his mouth again bluntly.

“...ok.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows. He gripped the coffee mug resting on the cafe table just a bit harder. He certainly wasn’t expecting that answer. “...Ya aren’t gonna ask why? Yer just ok with it?”

“Well,” (Y/n) emotionlessly bit into a small biscuit. His expression was unreadable, blank like a piece of paper. “It’s not like I can change your mind, ‘Tsumu.”

“But...can I at least know why?”

The two went silent. Atsumu pursed his lips, trying to find the words to say while (Y/n) sat there expectantly. Eventually, Atsumu looked back up from his coffee mug.

“S’a lot of reasons, I think. ‘M busy with volleyball, ‘specially since it’s my job now,” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly. It was true, with the Black Jackals, he was being paid to do something he loved. “And...I...”

“I think I found a girl I really like.”

(Y/n) looked down at his lap numbly. He already knew it was coming, he wasn’t blind to the faint lipstick marks Atsumu tried to wipe away when he came home, or the smell of expensive perfume that stained him when he would come back from ‘practice’. He knew, he knew yet...

“Ah.”

Was all he could say.

——

Atsumu downed his third can of cheap beer, hissing loudly and slamming it down on the bar.

“I hate life! M’gonna fuckin’...! Run away and shit!”

Sakusa hummed. “Oh no. What happened now.”

Loud, irritating club music blared through the bar’s speakers. Atsumu slumped over the counter, making Sakusa and Bokuto lean back.

“Oi! ‘Tsum-Tsum! What’s wrong buddy?” Bokuto poked repeatedly at Atsumu’s head, making him groan and pathetically try and flick his hand away.

“M’...M’so sad...” Atsumu whimpered. Sakusa rolled his eyes while Bokuto frowned. Atsumu continued to mumble sadly into his arms until he slowly became more agitated, and whipped his drunken head up. 

“Shoyo’s got a nice boyfriend! That fuckin’...Kodzuken youtuber dude! Why can’t I! If I were Shoyo, I’d be laying on my boyfriend’s lap and bein’ all cute and shit —but here I am! Fuckin’ drinkin’ and bitchin’ and fuckin’...fuck! Fuckin’ Shoyo! Fuckin’ Kodzuken! Fuckin’—”

“But didn’t you just break up with that girl you were seeing for like, months now? Thought you were straight, man!” Bokuto said, playing with the little garnish on his drink. Atsumu deadpanned, swallowing thickly before letting his head thump down onto the table. 

“Thought I was. M’gayer than if unicorns shat me out.”

Sakusa sipped on his fancy, green drink. “Is this about (L/n)-san, again-“

“‘Course it’s about (Y/n)!”

Atsumu waved at the bartender to grab him another drink. The bartender looked him up and down, before shrugging and leaving off to grab another beer. Sakusa looked at Atsumu with a disappointed expression.

“You do realize that every time we drink, you get shit-faced drunk, complain about (L/n)-san, call (L/n)-san, then he picks you up and you wake up in his house because he’s too nice to refuse to pick you up. And you regret and bitch to me every single time.” Sakusa closed his eyes and took a long sip from his drink. “Honestly I don’t know why I still come with you guys if I know it’s gonna end up like this.”

“Hey! ‘Tsum-Tsum has his problems and he’s just letting them out!” Bokuto defensively waved his arms around, gesturing to Atsumu on the table, laying down his head in his arms. Both Sakusa and Bokuto were pretty sure he was ugly sobbing. Or at least babbling nonsense that sounded like sobs.

“He can’t even sit up straight. And Miya-san was the one who broke up with (L/n)-san for another girl. He has no right to be complaining.”

“S-Still! ‘Tsumu’s the homie! Let him rant!” Bokuto chugged down his drink. 

Sakusa fished his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled down his list of contacts, before clicking on one that read ‘(L/n)-san. (Atsumu’s pick-me-up)’. The phone’s screen turned black, displaying (Y/n’s) profile pic with a ‘contacting...’ right under it in fine print. 

“Sure, Bokuto-san. Whatever you want.”

——

“Fuckin’...let go of me, Omi!” Atsumu slurred. He, however, made no attempt to push Sakusa off as he dragged him outside the bar. Bokuto had long gone, and Atsumu was a few drinks overdue for his trip home. 

Sakusa sighed, standing out in the cold with his mask pulled up to his face. Atsumu lolled his head onto Sakusa’s shoulder, either in an attempt to push him off or just pure drunkenness. “Don’t drool on me, Miya-san.” Sakusa cringed.

Atsumu was about to retort back, until both his and Sakusa’s attention was drawn to a home-y, black car that pulled up right in front of them. The driver’s door clicked open, and someone in a baggy sweater and sweatpants emerged from the car. 

“Please take him, (L/n)-san. I’m sorry for always calling you to-”

“It’s fine!” (Y/n) chuckled, opening the passenger’s side door for Sakusa to throw Atsumu’s body in. “‘Tsumu’s been drinking a lot, huh? Isn’t this the third time this month I had to pick him up?” 

Atsumu groaned when Sakusa clipped in his seatbelt. He sighed when Atsumu began tugging at it like a child, not knowing how to unbuckle it himself. “Actually, it’s the fourth time. But he has a reason today, I think.”

“He finally broke up with Yumena-san.”

Breath hitched in (Y/n’s) throat. He covered his shock up with a smile, however, and closed the car door with Atsumu in it. “Aw. Well, I better uh, drive him home, now. Bye-bye, Sakusa-kun.”

Sakusa nodded. (Y/n) stepped into his car tentatively. Ignoring the way Atsumu was still tugging at his seatbelt, he started up the car, and drove. 

“I’m...sure you won’t mind sleeping over at my place again...right, ‘Tsumu?” (Y/n) mumbled, more to himself than to the drunktard sprawled out onto his car seat. He silently unlocked his phone, tapping on the camera app and propping his phone up on his dash. He hit record, and withdrew his hand back to the steering wheel. Atsumu eyed it suspiciously, before shrugging it off sleepily.

“Naaaah…” Atsumu slurred. He threw his head haphazardly onto the armrests separating his seat from (Y/n’s), trying to get as close to his ex as possible. “Yer apartment smells good...I miss it...I miss you…”

Shifting so he was still laying on the armrest, Atsumu tucked his arm under his head like a pillow. “Yer so...pretty…love you so much...”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. Atsumu smiled dumbly, pointing a finger gun at (Y/n). “We should-you and I should like, totally get back together n’ shit…” Atsumu stopped, letting out a hiccup, before continuing. “I miss you...n’ I love you…”

Stopping at a red light, (Y/n) looked down at Atsumu, who was staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. (Y/n) averted his gaze, chuckling awkwardly. “...You don’t mean that. You’re just drunk.”

Atsumu shot up. “But I do! M’so sad without you!” Atsumu loosened his seatbelt enough so he could rest his face on (Y/n’s) forearm. “You were the best thing in my life, n’ I need you back! I love you so muuuuuuch!”

(Y/n) stayed quiet for a second, glancing at his camera pointed directly at Atsumu nuzzling his face into his arm. He slowed the car to a stop, taking out his keys and pressing the ‘Stop’ button on his phone. He slipped both of them into his pockets.

“We’re here. C’mon, get up.” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. After sitting in his car for a while, he finally got up, and walked over to the other side to haul Atsumu’s corpse-of-a-body out of his seat. “Fuck...sometimes I wish my apartment wasn’t on the third floor-’Tsumu! You can walk if I support you, right? I’m not carrying you.”

Atsumu pressed all his weight against (Y/n). “What if I want my boyfriend to carry me like a princess n’ shit…”

“I’m-” (Y/n) swallowed. His voice was quiet and shaky again. “I’m not your boyfriend. You say stupid things when you’re drunk...”

Atsumu was about to protest, when (Y/n) looped his arm under his own arm. 

“Let’s go. You need rest.”

The walk to (Y/n’s) apartment was silent.

——

Atsumu pouted, eyeing down the way Kenma was showing a video on his phone to Hinata and smiling. Hinata grinned widely, his eyes glued to Kenma’s phone screen until an obnoxious sigh drew his eyes away. 

“Why’d ya even invite me here...M’just third wheelin’ on yer guys's little date time.” Atsumu frowned, dramatically slumping in his seat. Kenma hunched his shoulders down, suddenly becoming very aware of the way Atsumu not-so-subtly stared him down. He brought his coffee cup to his lips, trying to hide behind the cup itself. 

Hinata defensively wrapped his arms around Kenma. “Oiiiii! We invited you over because you always get super-duper depressed after waking up hungover at (L/n’s)!”

“I’m more depressed now that yer all cuddly-wuddly with yer frickin’ boyfriend while m’sitting here with my single ass!”

“Miya wakes up hungover at (Y/n’s)?” Kenma quietly asked Hinata. He nodded. Atsumu started flailing his arms around, trying to get Hinata to stop talking, but he didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Every time he goes drinking, he ends up crying about how much he still loves (L/n)—and ends up either calling him or someone else calls him to go pick him up. Either way, he wakes up super embarrassed and awkward in (L/n’s) bed and sulks the rest of the time at practice.” 

Atsumu sat there, feeling like he’d been shoved to the front of a volleyball court completely naked. Kenma blinked, before looking down again.

“Oh.”

“That’s all yer gonna say-!?”

“I guess it kind of makes sense, now.”

Atsumu stopped mid-sentence, looking at Kenma with a confused expression. Kenma tried to dodge Atsumu’s eyes again, this time tugging on Hinata’s sleeve.

“...What makes sense now?”

Kenma had the look of ‘I said too much.’, trying to change the topic or hoping Hinata would swoop in and change it for him. But alas, no such thing happened. “I don’t think (Y/n) would…”

Hinata suddenly tugged back at Kenma’s sweatshirt, gesturing to turn around with him for a private conversation. They both turned their heads, mumbling out little ‘video-!’, ‘(Y/n)-!’ and ‘Atsumu-!’s here and there. Atsumu glanced from Hinata, to Kenma, before pouting that he’d been left out of the conversation.

Eventually, both Kenma and Hinata turned around again, looking directly at Atsumu. He stared back at them with doe-like confused eyes, when Kenma fished out his phone. 

“If we show you, you promise to act like you never knew at all?” Hinata childishly extended his pinky finger out to Atsumu, to which he nodded vigorously and hooked his own pinky with his. Kenma piped up.

“The reason I said it made sense was because I found a folder in (Y/n’s) phone titled, and I quote: ‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad)’. They’re filled with video’s of you, drunk, blabbing about how much you love him.”

Atsumu stared at Kenma.

“Yer fuckin’ lyin’.”

“I’m...really not.” Kenma turned his phone screen around, displaying a video filmed in what seemed to be (Y/n’s) car. Atsumu leaned down and peered at the video, seeing his head frozen in place in the corner of the screen. Kenma felt around for the play button, tapping until it started playing. 

Atsumu watched the video in horror, his face going milk white as he watched himself cry and sob about how much he wanted to get back with (Y/n). Right in front of him. The video ended, and Atsumu looked up with the hope of getting hit with a bus. 

“How...did you get-”

“I airdropped this one to myself when (Y/n) was in the bathroom one day because I found this one funny.” Kenma mumbled, turning his phone around and inspecting the screen. “There’s millions of them on his phone, this one isn’t even the worst. Some of them are in his apartment when he’s trying to get you into bed, and I think there’s one where you beg him to cuddle with yo-”

“Stop! Stop! No more!” Atsumu covered his face, embarrassed. Kenma let his mouth fall shut, while Hinata snickered into his drink. Atsumu let his head smack onto the table. “What did I do to deserve this…”

“Hey!” Hinata quipped, his positive voice making Atsumu’s brain hurt. “You know what that means, right?”

“That (Y/n) probably wants blackmail or revenge on me for breaking up with him?” Atsumu grumbled into his hands.

“Wh-no, what,” Kenma said. “He means-”

“(L/n) still loves you! I mean-he saves videos of you saying you love him to watch when he is sad or lonely or whatever, that means he loves you still! It was even in the title!”

Atsumu glared at Hinata like he was squinting at the sun. Kenma shrugged. 

“S’true. He told me himself he watches them when he goes to sleep n’stuff.”

“Yer lyin’.”

“Was he lying when he showed you the video?” Hinata raised his eyebrow. 

Atsumu opened his mouth, before letting it clamp shut and shaking his head ‘no’.

——

Clinging to his side like a kicked puppy, (Y/n) found himself nursing a drunk, sobbing Atsumu at his apartment once more. 

“Tsum-” (Y/n) struggled to stick his key in his door’s keyhole with the way Atsumu was quite literally hanging off him. It was like he was trying to pull (Y/n) to the ground with him. “Atsumu! I’m trying to-”

“Don’t leaaaaave meeee! I love you!” Atsumu sobbed. He wiped his messy face onto (Y/n’s) jacket. 

Finally sticking the key inside and turning it, (Y/n) pushed open the door and patted at Atsumu’s ruffled hair. “I’m not leaving, ‘Tsumu. Just taking you to bed, is all. We’re still...friends...I think.”

“Don’t wanna be your friend.” Atsumu sniffled, as he staggered into (Y/n’s) room with the support of his body. He was thrown on the bed with a loud groan, as (Y/n) went to grab his phone. “We were meant to be together...boyfriends...soulmates…!”

“I wish you meant that,” (Y/n) chuckled, setting up his phone, pointing it at his bed and pressing record. “Gave it up after the fifth time you came here sloppy drunk, though. It really is just you talking out of your ass.”

The hint of bitterness in (Y/n’s) voice increased unsteadily, wavering like a candlelight. “I-I mean, you say all these nice things-then the next morning you either deny everything you said, or leave before I can even say goodbye! Or you don’t even remember most of the time!”

(Y/n’s) disgruntled laugh made Atsumu blink. He eventually simmered down, looking down at the floor and busying himself with searching through his desk. 

“That’s okay though. I have these little videos of your lies to keep me company. I can live with that just fine.” (Y/n) turned to Atsumu, holding up painkillers and setting them atop the desk. “...Sorry for problem-dumping on you, ‘Tsumu. I know you want sleep.”

“Don’t take these yet. They’re for tomorrow.” (Y/n) rattled the painkillers in their box, before producing a water bottle and extending it to Atsumu. He looked at the bottle like it was some foreign object. The water sloshed around when (Y/n) swirled it around Atsumu’s face. “It’s for your hangover tomorrow. Drink up, ‘Tsum-Tsum.”

“Only if you cuddle with me.”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then m’not drinkin’ the fuggin’ water!”

“Atsum-!” (Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set down the bottle of water on his nightstand, and rested his hands on his hips. “...If I give you a tiny hug, will you drink all the water and go to sleep?”

Atsumu nodded vigorously.

(Y/n) expected him to stand up and give him a hug, but instead, he opened his arms and sat expectantly, waiting for something to crawl between them. He was so far back on the bed, (Y/n) would probably have to lay awkwardly in his chest until he was satisfied.

So that's what (Y/n) did, after what felt like hours of contemplating and clenched jaws. He bit his lip, climbing slowly towards Atsumu on the bed. Atsumu smiled dumbly, and scooped him up in his arms like a claw machine. 

What Atsumu didn’t expect, was (Y/n) to stiffen up, surprised, before melting into his arms pathetically. He clumsily wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s torso, his body curling into the shape of his own like dough. He let his head slump in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, taking in a shaky, deep breath and sighing heavier than he meant to. 

(Y/n) figured he must’ve forgotten how much he relished being wrapped up in Atsumu’s arms, because he found himself not wanting to let go of Atsumu’s shirt that reeked of alcohol.

Still, after what was probably only a few candid seconds, (Y/n) pushed himself away from Atsumu, who slumped back on the bed confused, and wobbled his way back onto his feet. 

“There…” (Y/n) breathed. He had the most unreadable expression, and his voice was quiet and raspy. “Now-now drink th-the water...you promised.” 

Atsumu shrugged, swiping the water from the nightstand, and chugging it sloppily. (Y/n) went to work removing Atsumu’s socks, pants, and other things uncomfy to sleep in, until he was left in his boxers and t-shirt. Atsumu stared at (Y/n) sleepily, as he grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, and threw them on the swivel chair near his desk.

“...Y-Yer not gonna sleep here with me?”

(Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over to stop his phone from recording, and curled up on the chair with his pillow. His voice was meek under the thin blanket he wrapped himself in. “You always ask, and i’ll always say no. Honestly I don’t know why you keep asking.”

“You look cold.”

“I’m...really not.”

“S’comfier on the bed.”

“...I like this chair.”

“I can scoot over-”

“Miya, if I give in and cuddle with you, everythings gonna be sunshine and rainbows ‘til the next morning—where you wake up next to me and regret everything! I’m-i’m trying to save your dignity here so stop asking!” (Y/n) croaked. He clutched his blanket tighter. “You’re drunk! You aren’t thinking! I already gave your-your stupid hug so stop it! How do you think I feel!?”

Atsumu rubbed at his head. (Y/n’s) hot face immediately flushed out, his voice quieting down back into his normal voice. 

“Ah...I’m...sorry. You’re...tired and I probably shocked you with my-by being loud n’stuff.” (Y/n) bowed his head slightly, before shifting away from Atsumu in his little swivel chair. “Sorry. Go to sleep now. Night, ‘Tsumu.”

When he heard shifting on the bed, (Y/n) grabbed his earphones and turned out the light. Plugging in his earphones hurriedly, he switched on his phone, clicking on the photos app and on today's video of Atsumu to cheer him up. He even caught the hug on camera, so he was looking forward to that. 

Dimming his phone's brightness to not disturb Atsumu, (Y/n) scrolled through the video, everything moving in fast-motion until (Y/n) saw himself climb into Atsumu’s arms. He paused the video there, smiling numbly, and taking a screenshot. 

Before he could add the video to the rest of his collection of drunk-sumu videos, he was suddenly hauled up and hanging upside down. He was tossed over Atsumu’s shoulder, not even having time to protest before he was thrown carefully onto his own bed. 

“Hey-Tsu-” Atsumu said nothing, climbing into the bed gracefully after (Y/n) and pulling the covers over the both of them. “Listen to me-! Let me go-!”

“If yer gonna keep sayin’ shit like...like i’ll regret it in the mornin’...fuckin’... let me,” Atsumu slurred. (Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but Atsumu beat him to it. “S’my fault…’n...m’gonna deal with it in the mornin’. S-so lemme hold you.”

(Y/n) knitted together his eyebrows, looking conflicted on what he should do. He’d been so, so good at restraining himself from stealing hugs and kisses from Atsumu when he was drunk, and his reward was the videos. If he messed it up now, would Atsumu be too embarrassed to let himself get picked up by (Y/n) when he was drunk? Was he really willing to potentially give up future lovey-dovey drunk videos, and seeing Atsumu tell him he loved him for one night in his arms again?

He was. 

(Y/n) relaxed, a numb expression on his face. He was just about done. One last time of drunk Atsumu holding him for a whole night, then it was time to move on. Hell, maybe after tonight, and after explaining to a very-embarassed hungover Atsumu in the morning that “No, we did not have sex,” maybe, just maybe, he would finally delete the videos. The video’s of his ex who didn’t love him anymore, feeding him drunk lies of ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’, and finally moving on with his life. 

(Y/n) ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a tuckered-out sigh. Maybe after he stopped clinging to the past, he could be normal friends with Atsumu Miya again. 

(Y/n) looked at Atsumu with dry eyes. He let himself succumb to Atsumu’s warm chest, breathing in his scent for what could possibly be the last time. Atsumu purred happily, adjusting so he could wrap both arms around (Y/n), using one as a pillow for him and another to wrap around his body. (Y/n) hummed dryly.

Atsumu giggled. “...Love you...so much.”

(Y/n), for once out of all the time’s he’d always respond with ‘No, you don’t.’ or ‘You’re just drunk.’, said:

“I love you too.” 

“...hehe...he…” Atsumu kissed the crown of (Y/n’s) forehead, before nuzzling it with his nose. “I love you sososo much.”

(Y/n) was quick to respond, even though his throat began closing up and making it hard to speak. You could probably tell he was on the verge of tears. “Me too, ‘Tsumu. I love you most.”

“I love you so much…” Atsumu began, this time his voice way more clearer and sober than what he’d been speaking with this whole night. 

“...That i’d pretend m’drunk just to see you again.”

“...”

(Y/n) blinked, not quite processing his words. He shrunk inside Atsumu’s cage-like arms, before timidly meeting Atsumu’s eyes. They seemed much clearer, less hazy from ‘alcohol’, and they stared back at him with it’s usual ‘Atsumu’ look.

“...huh…?”

Atsumu patted (Y/n’s) head. “Yer so cute. I love you so much.”

“Wh-wait-” (Y/n) tried to wriggle his way out of Atsumu’s arms. “You-you’re not-”

“Nope. All I did at the bar tonight was watch Bokkun and Shoyo-kun drink so i’d smell like alcohol. Then I told—well, paid Omi-Omi to call you sayin’ I was drunk again, so I could see what stupid shit I did at your place when I was drunk.”

“Though,” Atsumu nodded at the discarded phone on the ground, next to (Y/n’s) makeshift swivel chair-bed. “I could've just asked to see that video of me. Or the rest of them, ‘coordin’ to Kozume-kun.”

(Y/n) sputtered, trying to find the words to speak, but finding himself too embarrassed to. He’d, finally, been caught red-handed. 

He sighed, casting his head down, before crawling out of his bed and taking the walk of shame to his phone. “...You caught me,’Tsu...Atsumu. Caught me real good, Atsumu.”

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone, searching for the album full of his drunk video’s of Atsumu. He clicked on it, then waved his phone around guiltily. He turned the phone around, peering down at it sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll delete all of these...and I...I can drive you home if you want.”

“Nah. M’pretty comfy here.” Atsumu laid back down. “I’d be comfier if you were in my arms again, though.”

Atsumu made grabby arms towards (Y/n). (Y/n) blinked, searching Atsumu for any sort of satire. He found none, and nervously inched toward Atsumu until he was pulled back into his chest. The phone was, once again, forgotten on the floor. 

“Wheeeeeey, there we go~” Atsumu nestled down onto the bed, crooning (Y/n) in his arms and stroking his head. “Ain’t that comfy.”

He pressed a small kiss to (Y/n’s) forehead. “Love you. Goodnight~”

“...Wait, n-no you-”

Atsumu pressed another kiss onto (Y/n’s) face, promptly shutting him up. He tried speaking again, just to have another kiss placed onto his face. This cycle went on, (Y/n) trying to voice out his protests just to be hushed with kisses all over his face, until he reduced into a pile of hot tears, melting his face off raw. 

Atsumu kissed (Y/n’s) tears away. When more kept coming, Atsumu pulled back, stroking (Y/n’s) hair as gently as he could. Gentle was not a word to describe Miya Atsumu, but he sure as hell would try. 

“Stop cryin’...” Atsumu whispered, kissing another falling tear away. “I came here to win ya back, not make you cry…”

“I-I’m sorry-” (Y/n) sobbed out between hics. “I just- I missed you so-”

“I did too.” 

They sat there, small hics coming from (Y/n) as Atsumu quietly stroked his hair, and in all honesty, they would have laid there forever. But (Y/n) finally wriggled his way out Atsumu’s grasp, timpering his way to his phone. 

He picked it up, fiddling with it, before turning his phone screen around. Atsumu leaned closer. 

‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad) - 0 videos’

“Deleted them all.” (Y/n) murmured. “Figured I wouldn’t need them anymore now that I got you here…”

Atsumu blinked before erupting into a wide smile. He sprang off the bed and attacked (Y/n) with a big, bear hug. “You bet yer ass you won’t!” 

He peppered kisses around (Y/n’s) face, and instead of crying, (Y/n) began to smile.

“Stop it-that tickles! ‘Tsumu-!” The red tear stains on (Y/n’s) face were barely noticeable under the flurry of kisses he was under. Atsumu grinned stupidly into (Y/n’s) skin.

“Ya know full well you don’t want me to.”

And he didn’t.

Atsumu pressed one final kiss to (Y/n’s) face, this time, and for the first time in a long time: on his lips.

——————

I’m really proud of this 👉👈 I’d like it if I could get a lil,,,reblog,,,with thoughts,,,or comments,,,aha ha ha,,,

Lil thing I found funny

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Cancelled-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Surprise bitch. Weren’t we expecting for me to release mcyt fanfics soon? If I didn’t tag my usual @‘s it’s because idk if you’d like to be tagged for mcyt content.

Pronouns: she/her

Word Count: 2.3k+

_________________

"You're so harsh on him!" Her hands sat on the keyboard, staring at the green human that stood on Y/n's computer screen.

She needed to be careful. While this was a heated moment, she couldn't let herself get too loud for multiple reasons. If she got too loud, Dream's stream viewers would be able to tell she was in the next room or they would just receive noise complaints from their neighbors.

"No Y/n! You're too soft on him! He needs to learn that he can't get away with everything. You're setting him up for failure." As the h/c girl listened to her roommate speak, she had to remind herself over and over again; 'This wasn't real.' Dream was mad, not Clay.

This had all been arranged as roleplay. Y/n would be leaving in a few days to go visit some of her family for a reunion, so Wilbur had been the one to think up the brilliant idea of what was playing out now; an argument between Y/n and Dream. The plan was to have Y/n get so upset she didn't log onto the SMP for the next few days, only to come back with a master plan to backstab Dream.

At first, Clay wasn't really on board with the thought of him getting angry at Y/n. They had been together for a little over a year, there wasn't a single moment they had gotten upset with one another. But surprisingly, Y/n had been the one to convince Clay it was a good idea.

The fans knew Dream and Y/n had a close friendship, Dream had always been so protective of her. But when this was going down, they didn't know how to act.

Every time Y/n would glance at her chat, she'd see thousands of comments rising up as new ones appeared. Comment after comment, it looked like the fans were shocked by the way this stream was turning out.

"I'm not setting him up for anything! He's a kid, Dream!" Y/n glanced from the chat,  back at the screen showing her PC game. Standing on her screen was Dream and Tommyinnit, she had accompanied Dream to visit Tommy.

"You're just babying him! 'He's a kid!' Well, he needs to learn to grow up eventually," his voice had been filled with such spite. It felt weird to hear Clay speaking to her like this in such a tone.

For a moment, she stared at the green man before a short scoff escaped her lips. "I can't believe you." With that, Y/n had pressed a few keys, turning her character towards the nether portal a couple of yards away. Before Dream had gotten the chance to speak again, Y/n began to move away.

"Y/n! Come back here!"

She flicked a few buttons, taking a moment to look behind her character to see Dream following. Good, everything was going according to plan. Within the next few minutes, she'd be able to log off and she'd be on vacation for the next few days.

The h/c girl ignored the green man as she stepped through the portal, taking her to Minecraft's version of hell. Almost done, she just needed to find a good spot to stop as she listened to Dream continue to speak.

"You can't keep ignoring me! You know I'm right in this. You know you can't keep defending Tommy. You know Tommy is driving a wedge between us-"

Perfect. Y/n had stopped just on the edge of a bridge, molten lava sat feet below them. If she fell, she'd surely die. "No."

"No?" Dream was a bit surprised to hear Y/n cut him off, but he stayed silent as he was prepared to listen to what she had to say.

"No. No more. I don't wanna hear you blame Tommy for us breaking apart. I want you to listen to me. You've been acting like much more of a dick than usual and I hate it. I despise it. You've changed for the worst because you think you can step on everyone. At this point, everyone fears to tell you the truth-except me. I'll be a hundred percent honest with you, you've been so egotistical, it's really pissed me off. This is your fault, Dream. Not Tommy's. You exiled a child for pulling a prank on a vacation house! Not even George's real house!"

"But-"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm done, but I don't wanna hear you bullshit me. So shut the fuck up."

A moment of silence passed between them as Y/n stared at her screen. Just a few more steps.

And within seconds, Dream had pulled out his netherite sword. With one hit, she was falling back into lava. Y/n glanced at her chat, a look of shock on her face as she read over what a few comments said. A moment of silent tension had passed before Y/n had finally spoken up, removing her from the voice chat she was in.

"Alright guys, I guess that's enough for the day. I'll see you all... later." With that, she had clicked a few buttons, raiding Dream's live-stream as she ended hers.

For the next 20 to 30 minutes, Y/n knew Clay would be busy streaming. So she had decided to take a bit of time to wind down and think to herself.

Get a glass of water.

'Are the fans harassing him in his twitch chat?'

Sit down on the living room couch.

'The SMP fans were always so protective of me.'

Pet Patches.

'Was I too much when I snapped at him?'

It didn't seem like 30 minutes had passed when Clay had walked out of his streaming room, only to find Y/n on the couch with Patches in her lap. "Hey, N/n." "Oh, your stream is already over?" Y/n smiled, pulling herself out of her thoughts as she scoot over, giving Clay room to take a seat right by her.

"Yeah, did you lose track of time or something?"

"I must've. How did the chat react after I 'died'?" She smiled up at her boyfriend as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer into his embrace.

"Everyone was filled with joy that you died."-Y/n playfully swatted at him. "Okay, okay! I got a few chat messages of people bashing me for it, but it's fine."

"Well, it's a good thing the chat wasn't completely littered with hate. How was it after my raid?"

"Honestly, not that bad as you expect. Like I said, just a few comments. Nothing bad, I just ignored it." Clay placed a hand on Patches's head, gently scratching her, followed by the animal beginning to purr.

"Good to hear, anyways... I'm not ready to pack. Do you think we can procrastinate?" The h/c girl let out a huff leaning against her boyfriend. "How?"

"I was thinking a bit of movie binging, cuddling, and ordering dinner?" A cheeky smile spread on her face as she spoke.

"It's like you read my mind."

The couple had made it through three movies, by now it was later at night. The sun had set and they had already door dashed some food. By now they were in the middle of watching 'The Empire Strikes Back.'

'I love you.' 'I know.'

The iconic moment between Hans and Leia had been interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone buzzing. "Why is George calling?"

"What?" Y/n was a bit curious herself. Considering the timezones, George should be asleep right now. Pausing the TV, she turned her attention to her boyfriend's phone.

"Hey Clay."

"What's up, George? Isn't it like early in the morning for you?" Clay raised a brow, moving his phone so Y/n would be able to see George as well.

"Yeah, I had to stay up to fix a YouTube video I need to get out today. I was about to go to bed and I checked Twitter-"

"Oh no." Clay made a short joke, only to be cut off by his friend.

"I don't know if it's trending for you in America, but you might as well look."

"What's going on?" He swiped up, taking him to his home screen so he could click on the little blue bird app. Y/n had grabbed her phone from the coffee table, opening up the app as well. "#Cancel Dream... #Y/n... #Dream SMP"

"Is... is Clay getting canceled for killing me in Minecraft?" Y/n scrolled through the tweets involving the hashtag 'Y/n.' She could see plenty of people defending her, but making it much bigger of a problem than it actually was.

"Oh, hey Y/n. But yeah, he is." George chuckled awkwardly, scrolling through his Twitter app as well.

"This is so fucking stupid."

"It really is. So we might as well get this cleared up with the fans as soon as possible. Do you want me to tweet something, or do you want to?" Y/n looked up at her boyfriend, it looked like he was thinking.

"Yeah, I'll tweet it. Don't worry about this, Y/n."

"Alright, whatever you say," she replied, pulling a blanket over her as she waited for Clay to finish typing his response.

"Here's what I'm gonna say: 'I can't believe you guys actually think me and @(y/n) are in an actual fight in real life. We have been good friends since forever, the fight was only roleplay. I love that you guys are so protective of Y/n, but no one's actually upset.' How's that sound?"

"I think that's good," George hummed softly.

"Yeah, I doubt you'll stay 'canceled' once you've explained to them it was all part of the SMP lore." The h/c girl smiled up at her boyfriend with a small nod.

"Alright, I'm gonna post it. George, I think you should go to bed because you're half asleep already."

Y/n turned, looking at her boyfriend's iPhone. "Go to sleep, Gogy!"

"Alright, alright... I'll talk to you guys later." The call had ended with Clay and Y/n saying goodbye to their friend while George simply yawned to them as a response.

As soon as the call was over, Clay looked at the response to his tweet. It didn't seem to be going too well. There had been a few fans who understood what was going on and responded with a paragraph as an apology for the misunderstanding. But most replies had been telling Clay he was bullshitting the fans or that he wasn't being honest.

"I'm sorry, Clay," his girlfriend had huffed as she read through the responses to his tweet.

"Honestly I'm just a bit pissed off. Literally, any time someone tries to 'cancel' me, it's over something stupid. I'm not a bad guy, it just feels like some people just don't want to see me succeed." Clay had excused himself to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

It hurt Y/n to hear how upset her boyfriend was. He never got too upset over things, but seemed to take a small toll on him. "Hold on. Let me say something." The h/c girl couldn't be asked to post multiple tweets of her response to hate sent towards Clay over the internet. So what was better than a short video that could be posted to the blue bird app?

"Um, hey guys. I'd just like to make this quick. Stop sending hate towards Dream. The fight was roleplay and nothing more. I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of days so Wilbur thought of a good idea to help build SMP lore with me and Dream and we both agreed to the argument. Now stop sending the green man hate, or I'll commit war crimes or something-"

Y/n had been interrupted by the sound of Clay letting out a small giggle. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, just keep going with your video."

"Whatever, I'm cool. No matter what Dream says. Anyways, I'll speak to you all later." Y/n had hit the red button again, ending her video. Within seconds, the video had been uploaded to her Twitter account.

Placing her phone back down on the table, Y/n approached her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his torso. "I'm really sorry about the hate, Clay. I love you."

"Don't apologize for something you can't control. I love you more." The brunette held his partner close, accepting her hug. Y/n always loved his hugs, she always felt so safe in his embrace.

The rest of the night had been spent with more cuddling and more Star Wars movies. Hours had passed before Y/n had even thought about the Twitter situation again. But for some reason, she had decided to look at the app again tonight.

It was 2 in the morning by now, Clay was half asleep. His head laid in the h/c girl's lap as she brushed a hand through his hair, her free hand opening up her Twitter app once again.

It had been a bit of a surprise to see a couple of trending hashtags had changed so quickly. What was trending now was #Dream, #Y/n,#(ship name), and #Dream's Laugh. This had to be about Y/n's short clip she posted. And by the looks of it, people had stopped acting so harsh towards Clay. But instead, they had decided to focus on the fact Dream and Y/n were hanging out together. Not to mention the fact Dream and let out a stupid little giggle because of Y/n. People had been apologizing to him through Twitter for being so hard on him.

"Babe."

"Hm?" Clay mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Pretty much everyone is apologizing to you over Twitter for being hardasses."

"Hm, that's good to hear."

"You're really tired, huh?" Y/n paused her scrolling to look down at her boyfriend.

"Yeah," He continued to mumble, followed by a short yawn.

"Alright, time for bed, babe." Y/n smiled to herself, beginning to carefully move away from Clay. "I can pack tomorrow and we can laugh over the stupid bird app tomorrow after you've gotten a good amount of sleep."

"I still can't believe Twitter tried canceling me over roleplay."

"I can't believe you got uncancelled by shippers."

Taglist: @notphilosopherstudentblog

[rosiehunterwolf]

Face the Music

Prompts: Karaoke

Word Count: 5,572

Characters: Cole, Kai, and Jay

Timeline: Between seasons 9 and 10

Trigger Warnings: Brief Mentions of Toxic Parent and Eating Disorder

Summary: If you ask Cole, there are some things in life better left forgotten. Especially embarrassing experiences that you would prefer not to talk about. They certainly shouldn’t be used as blackmail or as entertainment for others, and everyone should just learn to move on. Although maybe his friends aren’t the only ones that need to move on. 

Link to read on Fanfiction.Net:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13904278/1/Face-the-Music

Cole burst onto the deck of the Bounty, swinging the door shut behind him. Zane looked up from the control panel, looking startled. “Cole?”

“Zane!” Cole ran over to him, gasping for breath. “Quick, what’s Kai’s cell phone password?”

Zane pulled back, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Don’t play coy with me, I know you have the passwords for everything programmed into your database! Now hurry, what is it!”

“I never denied that I did, but why would I tell you? That’s confidential information.” Glancing down at the cell phone, he asked, “Does Kai know you have his phone, Cole?”

“Uh… yeah, if it helps you sleep at night.”

Zane crossed his arms. “Cole…”

“Come on, Zane, help a friend out! It’s important!” “Cole, that is not my secret to tell. Unless it is an emergency, you don’t need to know.”

“But it is an emergency!”

“Oh really? Who’s in danger?”

“My pride,” he snapped. “C’mon, Zane, please, what do you want? I’ll do your dishes for a month! Or- or, uh, take patrol duties for the next three weeks. Hey, hey, what about cooking, you like that, right? I’ll buy you some new appliances!”

“Cole, you cannot bribe me-”

“Hey guuuuys,” Kai larked, popping his head through the door and sliding over to Cole. Before he could even react, the master of fire was plucking the phone out of his hands. “I’ll take that, thanks.”

“Give it back!”

“It’s my phone!”

“I didn’t give you permission to take that video!”

Kai batted his eyes innocently. “What video?”

Cole lunged for him. “I will kill you, spike head-”

“Gotta catch me first,” Kai shrilled, neatly ducking his arm and dashing back belowdeck, laughing maniacally.

“Thanks a lot, Zane. Who knows what he’ll do with that now?”

“I don’t understand. What is going on?”

Cole sighed slowly. “He’s got… a video. I need it to be deleted.”

“What kind of video?”

“Seriously Zane? Can’t you take a hint? I obviously don’t want to tell you.”

Zane just stared at him expectantly.

Cole rubbed his face in his hands. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “He still has the video from… from Laughy’s. With the Sons of Garmadon.”

Zane is smiling now, crossing his arms. “I don’t know why you are embarrassed to tell me, Cole. I was there, remember? I saw you sing-”

“Okay, okay, Zane, I get it! Just stop talking about it!”

“I don’t see why talking about it would be an issue-”

Cole lunged forward, pressing a hand over his mouth. “You don’t understand,” he hissed under his breath. “They’re everywhere. They’re obsessed with that video, and they’ve been dangling it over my head ever since we returned from the First Realm. They’re trying to blackmail me!”

“They?”

“Oh yeah, it’s not just Kai- Jay’s in on it too, the jerk. You think you know who your best friend is.”

“Cole, I think you’re overreacting, what could they possibly do with it? Everyone here already saw you sing, it’s fine.”

“You really think Lloyd, Nya and Pix have spared a second thought to think about me after everything they had going on here? I was hoping they had forgotten about it by now, but if Jay and Kai have their way-”

“I’m not going to help you steal Kai’s phone, Cole. If you need me for anything actually important, let me know.”

“This is important,” Cole yelled after him, but Zane was already gone.

Fine, he huffed. If no one is going to help me, I’ll do it myself.

---

“Hey Cole? Kai and Lloyd want me to play Fist-to-Face 3 with them, will you take patrol duty for me tonight?”

“Yeah?” Cole reclined in the kitchen chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “And why would I do that?”

“Oh, I dunno… perhaps because you wouldn’t want a certain… video to accidentally leak…” Jay waggled his phone teasingly in the air.

Cole stood up sharply. “You wouldn’t.”

“I dunno… would I? I guess we’ll find out.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going, I’m going,” Cole grumbled. “Want anything while I’m out?” “We’re almost out of Doritos. And can you get the strawberry Fanta?”

“Are you a heathen? Who drinks the strawberry?”

“It’s not for you,” Jay snapped. “And for your information, it tastes very nice.”

“Whatever. You at least gonna pay me for this, bozo?”

Jay slapped a twenty into his hand. “This is all I got on me. Buy yourself a little somethin’ with the change.”

Cole mock bowed. “Whatever you say, master.”

“Ah, come on, I’m not cruel, come join us when you get back.” As Cole walked out the door, he called after him, “I’ll save you some Bagel Bites!”

Cole rolled his eyes. He didn’t know how he got into situations like this.

He was really starting to hate that stupid video.

---

By the end of the week, which had been filled with similar scenarios, Cole had had it. I’m not going to take this slander anymore! They can’t just push me around like this, I’m the master of earth!

The monastery was buzzing with the chatter of his friends on the hot afternoon. They were all wearing swimsuits, and Lloyd opened the door, leaning out lazily as a wave of hot air wafted into the cool monastery.

“Stop standing there with the door open, nitwit, you’re letting all the hot air in,” Kai snapped, shoving him out the door, nearly sending him to the floor, before Zane caught him by the wrist with his usual lightning reflexes.

“Kai, there is no need to get physical.”

“Can it, Zane, I’m just playing around, right bud?” Kai slung his arm around Lloyd’s shoulder, ruffling his hair.

Lloyd shot him a glare. “Get off of me, you lump, I’m melting here. Are we going swimming or not?”

“Ouch, looks like someone skipped his coffee today. What’s wrong, baby boy, did I hurt your feewings?”

“You wanna get punched? ‘Cause I will not hesitate to punch you.”

“You wanna throw hands with me, bro? I’d prefer not to have a squished pancake as a brother, but if you say so.”

“As soon as I cool down a bit, you are toast.”

“You cool it, mister. Are you forgetting everything amazing I’ve ever done for you?”

“Don’t mind him,” Nya called to Kai, coming over to elbow Lloyd from the other side. “He gets grumpy when he’s hot.”

“I hate you both.”

Zane sighed. “I swear, it’s like the heat is melting their brains.”

Nya shrugged. “They must have like, low heat tolerance or something. Don’t ask me why they always get so loopy like this.”

“Hey, it’s like 100 degrees, don’t blame me if I’m a little uncomfortable!” Lloyd snapped, his words slurring slightly.

“Yeah, bud, even I think you’re starting to get to be a little much now. Come on, let’s get you in the water.”

As the team shuffled out the door, Jay turned back to face him. “Hey, Cole, aren’t you coming swimming with us?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute, just give me a sec.”

Jay shrugged, and Cole waited for a moment, until he heard the door click.

Finally! I thought they’d never leave.

Hurrying down the hallway, he popped his head into the bathroom, where Kai and Jay had just thrown their clothes into a pile on the floor when they had changed. Getting on his knees, he dug through it and pulled out Jay’s shorts, extracting his cell from it. Pulling a slip of paper out from his pocket, he quickly typed the numbers in, and…

The phone unlocked.

Cole broke into a grin, praising Jay’s inability to remember passwords and always writing them down somewhere where a very desperate earth ninja could find them.

He opened the camera app and deleted the video.

There. Halfway done.

Kai’s phone wasn’t in his pocket, so he snuck over to his room and found it charging on the nightstand. Biting his lip, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the camera footage he had captured the previous night.

It showed a bird’s eye view of the living room, and Kai was sitting on the couch, watching TV. As he reached for his phone, Cole zoomed in on the device and watched carefully as he typed in the code.

Okay. Cole repeated the same code on Kai’s phone.

Incorrect Passcode.

Cole felt panic flare inside him. What were the chances that Kai had changed his password in the one night since he’d filmed this?

“It didn’t work because I have one of those fingerprint ones, too.”

Cole whips around to see Kai standing in the doorway, Jay hovering behind him. “Jay told me you were lingering, and I just got a feeling, y’know? That you were up to something.”

Cole huffed, tossing him the phone. “Why won’t you just delete it, Kai? This has gone on for long enough.”

“I like the video, Cole. It puts a smile on my face on the… hard days.”

“Oh, spare me the pity card. I know plenty well that you have more than enough other ways to keep yourself entertained.”

“What about Jay?” Kai grabbed the lightning ninja by the shoulders, shaking him gently. “Think of your friend, Cole. He has no sense of entertainment, he needs something to keep him going.”

“Excuse me-”

“Oh please,” Cole snorted. “Stick Jay on Youtube and he’ll be entertained for hours. He gets distracted way too easily.”

“Oh come on, Cole, this is way better than Jay’s stupid cat videos-”

“I do not watch cat videos!”

“Don’t lie to me, zaptrap, you’re lame.”

“Dude, who’s side are you on?”

“Look guys, I don’t have time for this. Just delete the video, and we can be done with this whole thing.”

“No, that’s not how this is going to work. You’re going to go outside with the others, and forget this whole thing ever happened. Otherwise, this little video might end up on the internet.”

“What?” Cole shrieked. “You can’t do that, dude, it’s an invasion of my privacy!”

“Last time I checked, this was a video of Rocky Dangerbuff, not you. Is it you in this video, Cole?”

Cole felt his face heat as he scowled at them, and Kai and Jay burst into laughter.

Kai slapped a hand on his back. “If it makes you feel any better, it wouldn’t have worked anyway. You really think we’re dumb enough to keep the only copies of the video on our phones? You’d be searching for hours to delete all traces of it.”

Cole balked at him. “Seriously? How many copies did you make?”

Jay grinned. “You forgot this wasn’t a solo operation, dirtclod. I’m the tech guy around here. There’s no way you’ll be able to override my programming.”

Cole groaned, putting his face in his hands. “I hate you guys.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” Kai laughed. “C’mon, dude, it’s hot, let’s go swim.” Cole reluctantly followed them out the door, grumbling.

“This won’t go on forever, you guys. Sooner or later, I’m gonna find a way to stop you.”

Kai laughed. “We’ll see about that, Cole, we’ll see.”

---

“Are you sure this is really something I wanna be getting involved in?” The nindroid asked, her glowing green eyes scanning the monitor screen.

“It’ll be fine, Pix, I promise. They might be a little annoyed at first, but within a couple days, they’ll have completely moved on to something else to make fun of. All you have to do is get rid of one measly video for me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it that, exactly. Jay went pretty deep with this program. But I think I’ve located the source material.”

“And?” Cole asked, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Does that mean you can delete all the data?”

“Yes. Every known record of it developed into the Bounty’s database will be erased.”

“Do it, quick!”

Pixal turned to the computer again, and Cole held his breath as her fingers flew over the keys for a moment. Then, she pulled back.

“Is it done? Did you do it?”

“Yes. It’s gone.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Cole sighed, slouching against the wall. “I’m so glad that’s finally over. Pix, you’re a lifesaver.”

A small smile played on her lips. “I do what I can.”

“Well, you’ve just saved me a lot of trouble. I owe ya one.”

“We’ll see. Anyways, if we’re done here, I’m going to go help Zane work on those hull repairs to the Bounty.”

“Thanks, Pix.”

When he walked down to the kitchen for dinner that night, for the first time in weeks he didn’t feel a constant dread hanging over his head.

---

The relief didn’t last long.

It was only the evening of the next day when Kai came marching into his room, Jay on his heels. Cole glanced over at them nonchalantly from where he was laying across his bed, reading a Starfarer comic. “Can I help you?”

“You know what you did, stop acting so innocent.”

Cole grinned, stretching. “What can I say, bro, I outplayed you.”

“You could never,” Jay snorted. “You had help!”

“Hey, two against one was never a fair game. Let’s just say I was evening the odds a little bit.”

“Who helped you?” Kai hissed, pointing at him. “Spill, now!” “Sorry fellas, but I’ve sworn to secrecy. You’ll have to find your information elsewhere.”

“It has to be either Nya, Pixal, or Zane,” Jay insisted. “Nya’s the only one with the advanced enough technical skills to be able to override me, and Zane and Pixal are attached to the system, so they can get pretty much anything they want with enough computer skills.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “Great job, sparky, now we've eliminated it down to three out of the four possible suspects. What amazing deduction skills.”

“Hey, I don’t see you doing any better! And it’s actually three out of five. We know it’s not Master Wu, either.”

Both Kai and Cole raised an eyebrow at that.

“Jay, you’re joking. Master Wu. Helped Cole. Delete a blackmail video?”

Cole snorted. “Zaptrap, if Wu ever found out about what was going on, he’d give us a stern lecture, make us meditate for a few hours, then, probably like, stick us on patrol duty for the rest of the night or something.”

“Shut up! Look, it doesn’t matter, alright? If you just tell us who it is, we’ll leave you alone.”

“Fat chance.” Cole got up out of bed and strolled past them, towards the door. “You don’t have anything against me anymore. That blackmail’s not gonna work anymore.”

“Who told you that?”

Cole stopped, turning towards Kai slowly. “What?”

“Who told you we didn’t have access to the video anymore?”

Cole gaped, glancing back and forth between Kai and Jay. “What!? That’s impossible, she-” he bit his lip sharply, cursing himself. “I mean… we deleted all copies of the video. How could you still have it?”

“Aha!” Jay gasped, pointing at him. “Did you hear that? He said she! Which means we’ve narrowed it down to Pixal or Nya!”

Cole ignored him, narrowing his eyes at Kai. “You’re bluffing. You don’t have the video.”

“Oh yeah? Jay, you still have it?”

The blue ninja stuck a hand into his pocket, and, pulling it out, flashed a small blue object between his fingers. Cole looked closer, and felt his stomach drop as he recognized what it was- a flash drive.

“Yep, it’s all in here! Even the most advanced computer codes will do nothing to reach our backup. Looks like you’ve run out of luck again, Cole.”

“Are you kidding me? This is impossible!”

“Come on, Cole- all we want to do is have a little fun with it. Let us keep the video, and we’ll leave you alone.”

“And if I try to get rid of it again?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe it could find its way… onto social media.”

Cole nearly choked. “Kai! You wouldn’t!”

“Keep your nose out of it, and I won’t! C’mon, Jay, we’re done here.”

Cole flopped back down onto his bed. Social media. Kai couldn’t put the video on the internet. It would be all over the city by morning.

He had said he wouldn’t do it if Cole stopped trying to get rid of the video, but Cole didn’t trust that one bit. Now that the idea was planted in his head, Cole was afraid he could do it at any time.

There was no question about it. He had to destroy that flash drive.

---

Kai and Jay were out on the last evening patrol.

This was the time.

Glancing down the hallway to make sure no one was there, he eased open the door to Kai’s room and slipped inside.

He was fairly certain they would’ve kept the flash drive in Kai’s room, specifically to throw him off after he had seen Jay holding it earlier. Also, Kai’s room, while still a mess, wasn’t as bad as Jay’s, so Cole much preferred to search his, anyways.

But it was still going to be more difficult than he had hoped, he realized with a groan as he glanced around the room.

Kai’s bed had a small stack of comic books and magazines strewn across it, with more on the nightstand and even a few on the floor. His laundry had been mostly shoved into a corner, but a few lone shirts and socks had been left randomly. Most of his stuff appeared to be in bins that had been stuffed under the bed and in the corners, but there appeared to be no order to what was in them, just a hag-tag of random junk, save for one crate in the corner which was full to the brim with various weapons, leaving several of them spilling out just asking for a sliced toe in the morning.

The worst was the dresser, though- there were several hair products lined up, even though Cole knew he already had more than enough in the bathroom, a handful of letters, only a couple of them opened, some more comics, a couple empty cups, and enough earrings and other jewelry to last him a lifetime. Cole never understood why he needed so many. Sure, Kai had a ton of piercings, more than the rest of them combined, but Cole swore he had never seen him even wear half of these. Kai had almost as much jewelry, (or, as he liked to call it, “bling”) as he did hair products, which was really saying something.

Sighing, Cole walked over to search through one of the bins that looked like it may have had the techy stuff in it- or at least, the somewhat mechanical stuff- maybe- or, actually, not really, he had absolutely no idea what kind of system Kai had going on here.

Reaching in, he pulled out a tablet, a flashlight, a spare video game controller, a baseball cap, a worn stuffed dragon, a barrette that he was pretty sure belonged to Skylor- Cole blushed at that one, shoving the box away. These things were Kai’s. There could likely be things in here he didn’t want Cole to see.

He wasn’t trying to snoop, though- all he wanted to do was find the flash drive, and leave.

Turning away, Cole began to sift through another bin. A sword- small and uneven, but fairly solid- this one wrapped away with much more care than the others- had a label scribbled on that read “Kai’s first sword.” A photograph, ripped down the middle, the remaining side with a very young Kai hugging an even younger Nya, and a ripped shawl stained with blood that had never come out-

Cole jumped back. Okay, so maybe there was some sort of order to these boxes. And that one was none of his business. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to look any further, anyway. He didn’t doubt that Kai and Nya had been reserved about their lives before meeting them for a reason.

Cole was beginning to feel guilt weight down on his chest already, cold and heavy. He shouldn’t have seen that. He shouldn’t have seen any of this. He was blatantly disrespecting one of his closest friend’s privacy just to delete some stupid video he was embarrassed about.

I should go.

As he sped towards the door, he tripped over something and fell to the ground with a thump. Turning back, he saw it was a book that he had set aside while pulling things out of the bin, having spilled open after he tripped on it, allowing him to see that it wasn’t a book at all, but a photo album.

It was open to a page where Cole had his arm slung around a very grumpy-looking Kai, ruffling his hair, with Jay and Lloyd bent over laughing in the background. It was followed by a bunch of pictures of Kai with the worst bed hair Cole had ever seen- desperately reaching towards the camera, presumably to strangle whoever was snapping photos. Occasionally, one of the other ninja would pop in, holding him back for the photographer, or posing goofily next to the groggy fire ninja.

Cole felt a grin spread over his face. He remembered that day, when Kai had stayed up so late playing video games that he had forgotten about his hair in the morning- and the whole team had been more than eager to take advantage of the one time the fire ninja wasn’t looking so attractive. Kai had threatened to murder them in their sleep, but he had been laughing through it all, too.

That’s the same thing happening here, Cole realized. I’m being a baby about this. They’re just playing around with me. Like I haven’t done the same to them a thousand times.

Cole neatly closed the book and slid it back into a bin, leaving the room with his heart feeling significantly lighter.

It hadn’t been a moment too soon, either, as when he was walking down the hallway, he passed Kai and Jay returning from patrol.

“Everything okay, Cole?” “I’m fine,” he said quickly, too quickly. Luckily, Jay didn’t seem to notice. Kai raised his eyebrow slightly but didn’t press the issue. “Whatcha’ up to?”

“Just heading to bed.”

“Sweet dreams, little glow worm.”

Jay burst into snickers, and Kai grinned wickedly. Cole put his face in his hands, and brushed past them. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t quite as over this as he thought.

---

The next morning, he was awoken by a knock on his bedroom door. Pulling on a tank top, he opened the door to find Zane standing there.

“What’s up?”

The nindroid had an apologetic look on his face, holding up his cell phone. “Have you checked social media yet?”

“No, why?”

“Kai posted your karaoke video.”

“He what?!” Cole shrieked, ripping the phone out of his hand. There, right under Kai’s grinning profile picture, was the video of him singing at Laughy��s.

“That dumbass,” Cole cried, flopping back onto his bed. “Do you know how bad this is? And it’s not just any old social media account, it’s Kai’s. The guy has like, seven million followers on Ninjagram, and almost as many on Chirp and ChatSnap. This will ruin me.”

“I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t think he would do this.”

“I didn’t either. He promised he wouldn’t, as long as I didn’t try to delete the data!”

“...Didn’t you, though?”

Cole glowered at him. “Well, maybe, technically, I did, but he didn’t catch me! How would he know?”

“Cole, what kind of ninja headquarters would this be if we didn’t have security cameras?”

“Shit! Why would he be checking that? Oh, I’m never going to forgive him for this.”

“Cole, forgive me, but I think you’re overreacting a little. Sure, it’ll probably get a few laughs, but in a couple hours, everyone will have moved onto the next thing. You’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that! I’m not just like some random cat video, I’m a famous ninja! Pretty much everyone knows about me, they’re going to linger on this for a while, trust me.”

“Cole,” Zane said patiently, amusement sparkling in his voice. “I think you’ll survive. Come have some breakfast, that always makes you feel a little better.”

Cole opened his mouth to argue, but Zane was already walking out of the room, so Cole reluctantly followed.

Cole sat down at the table, glaring down into his lap, as Zane slipped him a plate of waffles. He couldn’t even make it all the way through his meal before Kai and Jay inevitably showed up.

“Hey Cole,” Kai smiled, “wonderful morning, isn’t it?”

“You shut your dumb mouth,” Cole snapped. “I don’t even want to look at you.”

“Woah, someone’s feisty.”

“I saw what you did! I can’t believe you did that.”

“I can’t believe you went through my stuff,” Kai barked back, and, despite himself, Cole felt himself flinch. “I was just upholding my side of the agreement.”

“Hey, Cole,” Jay interjected. “Look on the bright side. You’re practically famous! The video already has five million views!”

“I’m already famous, you moron, which, in this situation, makes it even worse.”

Jay blinked, obviously not expecting the hostility of his response. “Cole, chill, it’s just a-”

“Hey guys!” Cole looked up to see Lloyd, Nya, and Pixal walking in. Lloyd grinned as he caught sight of Cole’s plate. “Aww, Zane, you made waffles? Did you buy-”

“Yes, Lloyd, there is plenty of whip cream.”

“I’m just checking! It wouldn’t be the first time I was a few minutes late and some hogs ate all the whip cream.” He shot a glare at Jay, who shrugged nonchalantly.

“Ya snooze, ya lose, green machine. It’s not my fault you have no sense of timing.”

“I have plenty of sense of timing! I’m just…”

“Easily distracted,” Nya chimed in.

“Am not! You were just as distracted as I was!” “You’re the one who showed it to me just as we were trying to go to breakfast!” “Well, you didn’t have to watch it, you could’ve just walked away!”

“How could I not? That one’s a keeper-”

“What are you two on about?” Kai laughed.

“There’s this video blowing up on the internet-” Pixal began.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cole groaned. He glared at Kai. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve gotten them-” he pointed an accusatory finger at Lloyd and Nya- “laughing at it too.”

“More like them and the rest of Ninjago-”

“Seriously? I can’t with you,” Cole fumed, then promptly spun around and stormed off to his bedroom, locking the door. He flopped onto his bed face first and yelled into his pillow.

He had wanted to laugh this whole thing off. He really had. But how was he expected to be chill when it was all over the internet?

Part of him was just angry with himself, though. Why did he let this rile him up so much? Why was he so upset? Zane was right, it was just another random video, wasn’t it?

Why was it the end of the world if people saw him sing?

---

“Back straighter, Cole.”

Cole flinched at the hit before it came, and the man rolled his eyes. “How do you expect to ever perform well if you can’t even have good posture?”

“I’m trying dad, but I’m tired. We’ve been doing this for hours. Can I go have lunch now?”

“It’s not time for that yet, Cole. First, we need to work on this piece more. Now, start again, from measure twenty-one.

He shuffled through the pages of music, and as he began to sing, all he could imagine was that stern face peering down at him, and all of a sudden his voice was coming out wobbly.

“Tone shape, Cole! You need to keep a consistent tone. Don’t let it sound wavery and messy.”

Cole’s stomach growled loudly, and he flinched at the look on his father’s face. “Please, dad, I’ll be able to concentrate more if I’ve eaten.”

“Fifteen minutes,” his father snapped. “Then right back to work.”

Cole remembered running to the kitchen, worried there wouldn’t be enough time, and eating as much food as he could manage. But it had been too much, his father would be angry with him, what was he going to do-

He had thrown most of it up in the bathroom later that night.

“Cole, you need to try harder. Singing and dancing of just “average” quality aren’t going to cut it when you become part of the next generation of the Royal Blacksmiths.”

“But dad, I don’t want to be a Royal Blacksmith. I don’t even like to sing.”

“Nonsense! This is a family legacy, boy! Do you wish to break such noble tradition just because you weren’t willing to work hard enough?”

“...No, dad.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, back to work.”

---

A knock. “Hey, Cole, can I come in?”

Cole pulled his face out of the pillow, frantic to find it wet. He quickly wiped at his eyes before getting to his feet and trodding to the door, unlocking it and opening it slowly. Kai stood there.

Great.

“What do you want?”

To his surprise, the red ninja flinched. “Can we talk?”

Cole turned and laid across his bed. “What’s there to talk about?”

Kai took a seat on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance from Cole. “Are you… are you actually angry about this? Like, for real? I thought we were joking around.”

Cole didn’t answer, merely grunting into his pillow.

Kai hesitantly scooted a little closer. “I’m sorry. I would’ve stopped if I knew it was making you so uncomfortable. I really wish you had said something about it.”

Cole shrugged. “Well, I didn’t.”

“I’ll take it down, if you want.”

“What?”

“Like, I know it’s too late now,” he said hurriedly, “and that a bunch of people have already seen it, that I’m not fixing my mistake by doing this, but- I can take the video offline now, so at least no one else sees it.”

Cole was about to thank him, when a sudden urge flowed over him. “Y’know what,” he said, sitting up, “No.”

“Huh?” “Don’t bother,” Cole told him. “It’s no big deal. It’s just some stupid video.”

“I thought you were upset.”

“I was. And still am, a little, if I’m being honest. But I’m tired of spending so much time worrying about what others think of me. It’s exhausting, and no fun. It’s time I started thinking about how I view myself.”

“Are you sure? Because I know you hate singing-”

“I don’t, though. I used to like it.”

“What happened?”

Cole shrugged halfheartedly. “Let’s just say… my dad didn’t make the right decisions. Pushed me too hard to be something I wasn’t. Kind of hard to enjoy singing with him barking over my shoulder about it every spare second. Basically sucked all the joy out of it.”

Kai swung his feet back and forth. “That sounds rough. I wonder if my dad would’ve been anything like that, if he… if he’d stayed.”

“You were forced, in a way, too. Forced to grow up too quickly, to raise your sister on your own.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.” He shot him a small grin, although Cole could tell it was forced. “We’re alike in that way.”

“I wish we weren't,” Cole sighed. “No one deserves to go through that.”

Kai laughed dryly. “I learned a long time ago that life’s never been fair.”

“Have you talked to your dad at all, recently?”

“...Not really. I mean, apart from letting him know we were alive and stuff… after the First Realm.”

“Maybe you should reach out to him. Before it’s too late.”

“I know, I know… but I’m not really sure if I want to. I don’t know if that makes me sound like an awful person, but… he was never there for me. They were never there. I know it wasn’t their fault, but… it still stings. Those years, before I came here, were some of the hardest of my life. And I was just a kid! How was I… how was I supposed to…”

“It’s okay,” Cole put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “I’m not sure if I want to forgive my father, either.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. What kind of person treats their kid like that? Judges them so harshly? Oh gosh, why didn’t you say something, Cole, I’m really sorry about that video.”

“I told you, it’s fine. You guys aren’t my father. I know you won’t judge me for my quirks. And, if you want to laugh at me, if the people of Ninjago want to laugh at me, that’s fine. So I’m weird. So I sing stupid songs about glow worms and sing out of key and put on really, really bad disguises. You can tease me all you want, but really, you love me for it, and I’m done doubting that. That’s what true family does.”

Kai smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry that you didn’t find that out sooner, Cole. You’re an amazing person, and you deserve a family who will treat you like one.”

Cole smiled, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “I already have one.”

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 12)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy, Roman & Remus & Janus

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned, explosions (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 My Master Post

Remus sulked in the back of Roman’s car. It wasn’t fair. His brother and his best friend were both in the front seat and had been mocking him for the past 10 minutes and they wouldn’t even put on an interesting music station. Roman had even told Janus about the time Remus had peed on a wasp sting thinking it would work like it did for jellyfish.

“We should play a car game,” Remus suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Roman said immediately.

“Come on Ro, it’s tradition,” Remus said.

“You kill my cows every time!” Roman said. “You could kill Uncle Patton’s cows since he’s always winning, but you always choose to kill my cows!”

“But RooooOOO.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Remus relented. “No Cow Game.”

“Thank you.”

“I spy with my-”

“No, Remus.”

Remus paused. “I’m thinking of an animal.”

“I’m not playing Remus.”

They sat in silence for about 20 seconds. “There’s a Kentucky driver’s license. One point for me.”

Roman chose to just ignore him now.

“Janus you’ll play with me, won’t you?” he asked.

“Remus, I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and you’re already annoying me,” was the answer.

“Come on if we’re going to listen to stupid music, we should at least play a game. How about we try to find things outside of the car in alphabetical order. I’ll start. Airport sign! Now you find something starting with the letter ‘b’.”

Does the annoying bastard in the backseat count?” Janus grumbled under his breath.

“No,” Remus replied with a grin. “It’s got to be something outside of the car.”

Janus didn’t respond to that and Remus pouted. He went through a bunch of different car games he knew and tried to make some up, but none seemed to entice either his brother or Janus to play. While usually he might just give up after being ignored for so long, he noticed Janus’s hand start tapping a restless pattern on his leg after only about 10 seconds of Remus’s silence. So, Remus decided to drop the car games and instead just focused on being as annoying as possible.

…

“Theeeeeeeeee…. wheels on the bus go round and round!”

“I’m going to kill him,” Janus said blankly.

“That’s what he wants,” Roman said mildly. “Just ignore him.”

Remus kept singing for a long time. Eventually he ran out of verses, so he just started to make some up. “The strippers on the pole…”

“Oh my god,” Janus said. “I can’t handle this anymore.”

“Seriously Jan,” Roman said. “Just pretend he doesn’t exist, and he’ll eventually wear himself out.”

“In how long?” Janus asked, just the slightest edge of hysteria to his voice.

“It depends on if he’s had any caffeine today.”

Remus kept singing, but Janus and Roman remained resolutely silent on the matter until Remus eventually trailed off.

“This is boring,” Remus said.

Nothing.

“At least change the radio station to something not lame.”

Janus reached forward and turned the volume on the radio station up. Remus sat back in his seat and thought for a few minutes which is when he tuned into the radio station.

“So, if you’d like to request a song, you can call in or send a request through our new app,” the man on the radio said. Remus smiled widely and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

When he turned it on, he had a bunch of missed phone calls and text messages from dad. What? He opened the text messages and they all seemed to be asking the same question: ‘Have you seen your brother?’ Remus glanced up at the back of Roman’s head.

‘I’m not his keeper,’ he texted back.

Then, he closed out of the messenger app and pressed the button for the app store. He quickly found what he was looking for and pressed the download button.

It took a couple of minutes to download and about when it was over, he noticed Janus shoot a look back at him. He opened his mouth, doubtlessly to comment on Remus’s silence. Not wanting to be suspicious, Remus opened his mouth and let out his patented ‘banshee scream.’

“Don’t look at him!” Roman yelled over the sound of Remus’s scream.

“Why is your brother a demon from hell?” Janus asked, hands over his ears.

Remus ran out of air after a moment. There was a beat of silence.

“Can I please kill him, Roman?” Janus asked.

“No,” Roman replied. “Really, just ignore him.”

Janus grumbled under his breath and turned the radio station up even more. Satisfied that they were none the wiser, Remus opened the now downloaded app and quickly found the “suggestions” tab in the menu drop down. He didn’t even have to check the given list of suggested songs to know what he wanted was not on it.

So, he tapped on the button to suggest a different song and typed in the details of what he wanted before pressing send. Then it was just a waiting game and no matter what dad (and everyone else) had always said, Remus was good at waiting games. At least, he was when he wanted to be. Both Janus and Roman were looking resolutely ahead and Roman’s fingers were tapping to the beat of the current song on the wheel despite the fact that they were going over the speed limit to a crazy amount.

The song ended and a man came on the air.

“Hello, hello, hello,” the man said. “We’ll be getting right back to your suggestions on KSS-FM 102.9, but before that for anyone on Interstate 26, there was an accident near the Carlson exit involving a semi-truck full of cows. If you’re anywhere near exit 52, I’d suggest you moo-ve right on over to an alternative route.”

“Fantastic,” Janus hissed, slamming his fist against the dash.

“Hey, whoa, it’s fine,” Roman soothed, but Janus didn’t seem to be listening.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Hey, Jan,” Remus said. “You’ve got your map, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, it’ll be easy to find an alternate route, yeah?” he asked.

“We don’t even know where we’re going!” Janus said. “How the hell are we supposed to find an alternate route?!”

“We know where he was right?” Remus said. “The cows might actually be a good thing. It’ll probably slow everyone down and we can guess what alternate route he might be using.” Janus didn’t say anything. “Here,” he said. “Gimme.” Janus handed over his atlas and Remus peered at it. “Yeah, here, see,” he said, showing it to him. “There are about four likely alternative routes someone might take near where Virgil was the last we knew. Three of them end up funneling into to Lincoln to get back onto the interstate and Lincoln has an ice-cream shop that got burglarized five times one summer, so they put up a security camera facing main street.”

“Please tell me you didn’t burglarize the ice cream shop,” Roman begged.

“You can prove nothing,” Remus said. He hadn’t actually, but he liked the distressed noise Roman gave in answer. “Anyway, I’d say we throw in our lots with that and drive to Lincoln to check the security camera. Even if he didn’t go that way, we can then make another guess based on where the 4th route went.”

“That…” Janus said. “Yeah, that’s actually a good suggestion Remus, thank you.”

“No prob Janny Fanny.”

“And you ruined it,” Janus said.

Remus just gave him the biggest smile he could.

Janus rolled his eyes and turned away from him to look back at the map. He grabbed a pen and circled the location that Remus had suggested. “You’ll want to get off at the next exit,” he told Roman.

Roman nodded. “Got it.”

Remus had actually almost forgotten in the interim about his absolutely fantastic idea until a few minutes later when the radio man announced the next song. Remus could already feel a smile creep up his face as the man snickered a little bit when he started speaking.

“Now,” he said, “we usually wouldn’t play this song, but it does seem… appropriate considering the trucks that crashed on I-26 and the person who suggested it wrote about why he wanted us to play it in the comments.” He broke for another short laugh. “As a sibling myself, I feel sympathy for your plight D-dongmaster-5000. So, here’s for you, stuck in a car while your brother and best friend hog the radio. I hope your road trip goes well.” And then, beautifully, the radio started singing the song of Remus’s soul.

Two trucks having sex

Two trucks having sex

My muscles, my muscles

Involuntarily flex

Remus saw Janus look over at Roman. Roman didn’t look away from the road. Instead, he just said with zero emotion, “Kill him.”

Janus vaulted over into the back seat as the radio crooned:

Two pickup trucks

Making love

American made.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 13

[beybladefanfictions]

Ryuga’s Return - Chapter 4

(Description: AU where Ryuga survives Metal Fury but loses L-Drago. He reunites with Kenta and struggles to figure out what he’s supposed to do without Beyblade, his purpose in life for so long. Character’s thoughts are in asteriks.)

Ryuga's POV

Ryuga walked through the forest. He had spent the last week living with Kenta and his parents. Though he tried to avoid Kenta's parents, they made it difficult by always checking on him and insisting the four of them eat together as a “family.” A family Ryuga wasn’t part of. Kenta’s parents were weirdly welcoming as ever, making Ryuga uneasy. He was somewhat grateful. However, he was starting to suspect Kenta's parents were expecting something in return for all that they were doing for him. They had to. Why else would they be treating him nicely? Whatever the reason, Ryuga needed a break from all of them every now and then so he went outside on walks in the nearby forest to clear his head, like he was currently doing right now. It was the only time he could guarantee he would be alone for long periods of time. It was peaceful.

Once he returned to the house, Kenta and his parents were in the living room, seemingly waiting for him.

“Ryuga!” Kenta’s mother gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. “Where have you been?”

Ryuga stiffened. *Are they mad?*

“I went for a walk…” he grunted, closing the door behind him. “Like I've been doing every day.”

Kenta's mother let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“You need to let us know before you just disappear like that,” Kenta's dad added, his eyes narrowed sternly. “You were gone for hours.”

Ryuga’s eyes narrowed as well. “I did nothing wrong,” he argued, taking a step back.

“Well, no, not wrong,” Kenta’s mother’s tone was more gentle, but still stern. “We were just worried about you. Please, just tell us where you're going before you take off, can you agree to that?”

She waited for an answer. Ryuga clenched his fist. *So this is what they want: to control me… just like Doji did.*

“Fine,” Ryuga grunted.

The woman smiled. “Thank you, sweetie."

Ryuga bit back a growl. Kenta’s parents hadn’t ceased with the insulting nicknames and getting them to knock it off was useless. Ryuga started toward the basement entrance.

“Wait, Ryuga!” Kenta’s dad called.

Ryuga stopped, gazing back at the man. He walked toward him and held out a small device.

“Since you’re going to be here for a while, we got you this.”

Ryuga took the device, staring at it for a few moments. He had seen Kenta and his parents using these before but had never used one himself.

“What is it?” Ryuga asked, instantly feeling stupid.

However, Kenta’s dad didn’t seem to mind as he explained, “It’s a phone. We added our numbers and Kenta’s into it so you can call or message us from anywhere.”

“Er… thanks.” Ryuga took a step back, his gaze transfixed on the device.

“Oh, of course, you don’t know how to use it…” Kenta's dad reached toward Ryuga.

“I can figure it out,” Ryuga growled, flinching away before the man could touch him. “I don’t need your help.”

Kenta’s dad looked unsure. “Alright, if you say so, kiddo…”

Ryuga gazed at the phone in his hands for a few moments, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. Thankfully, he didn’t have to pretend long.

“Alright honey, we’re ready to leave then?” Kenta’s mother asked, gazing at her husband.

“Leave?” Kenta asked, sounding alarmed. He had been so quiet that Ryuga had nearly forgotten the kid was here. “Where are you going?”

“Just to the store,” she answered. Ryuga had to bite back a sigh of relief. *Finally, I don’t have to hide in the basement.*

“You two are old enough to be on your own for a while,” Kenta’s dad added with a nod.

Ryuga’s eyes narrowed. *Of course I am. I lived on my own for a long time before I ended up here.* Ryuga didn’t say that out loud. He didn’t want Kenta’s parents to feel sorry for him and considering earlier interactions, he suspected they would.

"Take care, you two!" Kenta's parents called as they walked out the front door.

"Bye!" Kenta called back, waving.

Once the door closed, the house was drowned in a comforting silence. Ryuga sat on the couch and gestured to Kenta.

“Okay, how does this thing work?” Ryuga sighed, holding up the phone.

“I thought you didn’t want help?” Kenta asked, sitting down next to him.

“I don't want their help. They’ll just talk down to me. You have a phone. Just show me how you work yours.”

“Oh, okay…” Kenta pulled his phone out of his pocket.

He held it up and pressed a button on the back, turning the screen on. Ryuga copied the action. He was confronted by a screen full of little icons. Ryuga froze. Kenta glanced at his screen.

“That one has your contacts in it," Kenta explained, pointing to a little green icon.

Ryuga tapped the icon. There were three sets of numbers next to some names: 'Kenta,' 'Mom,' and 'Dad.'

“Ugh, how do I change these names?” Ryuga grunted, glancing at Kenta.

“Oh, just click on the name then click on the little pencil icon," Kenta explained, his gaze fixed on his phone.

Ryuga did just that, changing 'Mom' to 'Kenta’s mom' and 'Dad' to 'Kenta’s dad.'

“Wait, what’s wrong with Mom and Dad?” Kenta asked, putting his phone aside and gazing back at him.

“They’re not my parents.”

“Family is more than who you’re related to, you know," Kenta replied, sounding weirdly serious. "Some families share no biological connection at all.”

“I don’t care," Ryuga growled, placing his phone aside. “They’re not my parents.”

“Not yet,” Kenta teased, nudging Ryuga's shoulder.

“Not ever, Kenta!” Ryuga snapped, turning to him.

Kenta jerked back, his eyes wide in alarm. Ryuga froze.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed and continued in a quieter voice, “I don’t need or want a family. I’m just here because I have nowhere else, you know that.” Ryuga's head hung low.

“Yeah, I do,” Kenta sighed, pulling his legs into his chest. "I just wish you guys could get along…” He was staring off into space, his eyes watering slightly.

“Kenta… I’m trying my best.” Ryuga rested his hand on Kenta's shoulder, in an attempt to comfort him.

Kenta let out a sigh. “I know, I know." He clung to Ryuga's arm for a few breaths before looking up at Ryuga. "Can… can we do something else?”

“You’re going to make me watch more of that dumb card show, aren’t you?” Ryuga grunted, moving his arm away.

Kenta smiled and shrugged. “Well, I was going to say ‘get you some apps for your phone,’ but, sure. I’d like to watch more Yugioh!”

Ryuga let out a sigh. However, at least Kenta wasn’t upset anymore.

“It gets really good!" Kenta insisted, hopping off the couch. “I promise!”

“It's about magical cards,” Ryuga replied with disbelief.

“We fight with metal tops that have spirits in them.”

Ryuga winced visibly.

Kenta's eyes went wide. “Er- um!"

“Put the show on," Ryuga ordered, his eyes narrowing.

“Okay," Kenta nodded and began setting up the TV.

Upon being reminded of L-Drago's disappearance, Ryuga longed for anything that would take his attention away from that pain, even something as silly as a show about kids playing with cards.

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

The next morning, Ryuga was lured out of the basement by the smell of food. He pushed the door open. Kenta’s parents were both in the kitchen, perking up a bit when they noticed him.

“Good morning, kiddo.”

Ryuga looked around. *Where’s Kenta? Why isn’t he up yet?!* A feeling of dread quickly overtook Ryuga. This was the worst-case scenario: he was alone with Kenta’s parents.

“Morning,” Ryuga muttered, sitting down at the table and staring intently at the ground.

*Please don’t try to talk to me, it’s too early for this.*

“Sleep well?” Kenta’s dad asked.

Ryuga let out a sigh. *Why?! Why do people have to constantly talk about nothing in particular?! Can’t there just be silence for once?!*

“Well enough,” Ryuga answered with a grunt.

Down the hall, a door opened. Ryuga let out a sigh of relief when he heard Kenta dash into the living room.

“Madoka just texted me!” Kenta announced, holding up his phone. “Flash Sagittario is fully repaired!”

“Oh, that’s good!” Kenta’s mother replied with a smile.

“You can go get it after breakfast,” his dad added, gesturing to the food they were currently cooking.

“Awesome!” Kenta turned to Ryuga. “Oh, hey Ryuga. You’re… up before me.” He sounded shocked.

“What’s your point?”

If Ryuga hadn’t come up here on his own, Kenta or one of his parents would’ve gone to get him like they always did. It made no difference what he did.

“Nothing,” Kenta replied with a shrug. “I’m just surprised.”

He sat next to Ryuga, at their usual spots at the table. Minutes later, Kenta’s parents put food on the table, consisting of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. Ryuga went straight for the scrambled eggs, scooping some into a bowl with a fork.

“You sure that’s enough food for you, kiddo?” Kenta’s dad asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes.” Ryuga’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”

Kenta’s parents just chuckled.

Ryuga stiffened. “That wasn’t a joke- nevermind.” He let out an exasperated sigh. *There really is nothing I can say to these people.*

Ryuga stayed silent for the rest of the meal, keeping his gaze fixed on his bowl of scrambled eggs. Once he was done, he turned to Kenta. The kid had somehow eaten all of his food as well, even though he had more than Ryuga had. *That can’t be normal.*

“Ryuga, you wanna come with me to get Sagittario?” Kenta asked, hopping to his feet.

“Sure,” Ryuga replied, getting to his feet as well.

Ryuga would pretty much follow Kenta anywhere if it meant he didn’t have to be alone with the kid’s parents. So the two of them left the house side by side. When they reached the Bey shop, Ryuga waited just outside as Kenta went in to retrieve Flash Sagittario.

“Woah, it’s Ryuga!” Ryuga stiffened at the sound of an unfamiliar voice: a kid by the sound of it.

“Ryuga?” another kid replied, sounding stunned. “Gingka’s last opponent in Battle Bladers?”

Ryuga stiffened at the memory of that battle.

“Yeah, him! He’s right over here.”

“Woah… he looks mean.”

Ryuga glared at the two kids, putting on the evilest face he could muster. They yelped and ran away. However, the reaction brought Ryuga no joy. In all honesty, Ryuga didn’t know how he wanted to be treated. He hated being treated like any other kid, but he wasn’t the Dragon Emperor anymore, so he didn’t think he deserved to be treated as such.

The bell at the shop door rang. Ryuga looked up to see Kenta walking out, holding up a newly repaired Flash Sagittario. He glanced at the bey. However, he barely got a chance to look at it as Kenta dashed past him.

“Wait, Kenta!” Ryuga called.

Kenta skidded to a halt. “Yeah?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Can I see Sagittario? Just for a second.”

“Uh… okay.” Kenta held Sagittario out in his hands.

Ryuga gently took the bey in his fingers and gazed at it. Flash Sagittario lacked the claws of Flame Sagittario but in exchange, its spin track was much taller and the bey’s entire form seemed tougher overall. This was it. This was the effect Ryuga’s power had on Kenta’s Beyblade, and perhaps a reflection of the effect Ryuga had on Kenta.

Ryuga could sense a familiar power within this bey: L-Drago’s power. Though while L-Drago’s power had been overwhelming, Sagittario’s power seemed quieter, and more controlled. If L-Drago was like a wildfire, then Sagittario was like a campfire.

“I guess it’s thanks to you that his bey even exists,” Kenta’s voice shook Ryuga from his thoughts. “Are you really sure you don’t want to try controlling it?”

“No, Kenta. It’s yours,” Ryuga insisted, handing the bey back to Kenta. “I’m not taking it from you.”

“Okay…” Kenta sounded slightly unsure but he started walking. Ryuga followed. “I really haven’t gotten much of a chance to practice with this new Sagittario,” Kenta was murmuring to himself.

He pulled out his phone and gazed at it as the two of them walked. A horrible decision, Ryuga thought. Yet Kenta was still paying attention to their surroundings somehow.

“Ooh, here’s a tournament scheduled for later today!" Kenta stopped walking, gazing at his phone. "Can I… yeah! There’s still one spot open! Wanna come with me, Ryuga?" He asked, looking up at him.

Ryuga's eyes narrowed. “I can't enter."

“Well yeah, but you could um-" Kenta looked back at his phone.

Ryuga let out a sigh. “Sit and watch." That was all he could do: be on the sidelines, reduced to a mere cheerleader for his Blading friend.

“I just…” Kenta put his phone away, gazing up at Ryuga with the puppy dog eyes. “It would be nice to know that I have your support.”

*It's either that or staying at the house with Kenta's parents.*

"Fine,” Ryuga grunted, “When is this tournament?"

“In a few hours. I need to get my blading stuff from the house but then we can do whatever until the tournament.” Kenta began walking.

Ryuga followed. “I’ll come with you. Then I want to be alone for a while.”

“Um… okay.” Kenta sounded unsure.

“I’ll get there in time for your tournament.” Ryuga smiled a bit. “Not that I’ll need to watch. You'll definitely win.”

“Ah, I don’t know,” Kenta replied, resting his hand on the back of his neck. “There’s a lot of bladers I’ve never beaten. Gingka, Kyoya, Tsubasa… If they’re there, it’ll be a challenge.”

“But you’ve gotten a lot stronger.” Ryuga was surprised to find himself encouraging Kenta. “Don’t forget that. They’re strong but so are you.”

“I… I guess.” Kenta’s gaze shifted to the ground.

“Why are you so unsure of yourself?” Ryuga asked, raising an eyebrow. “You forced me to use my ultimate move and scratched L-Drago before you even became a Legendary Blader!”

“Y-yeah… but that doesn’t guarantee I’ll win. I’ve barely had a chance to learn to control my new Sagittario.” Kenta gazed at his Beyblade.

“Then this is the perfect opportunity to learn.”

Kenta looked unconvinced but he didn’t argue further. They continued on in silence. 

*Attending tournaments is the closest I’ll ever get to returning to the world of Beyblade… where people will definitely recognize me.* Ryuga’s eyes widened at the thought. *I can’t… I don’t want to be recognized, I’ll just be gawked at and questioned relentlessly about L-Drago.* However, Ryuga had already told Kenta he would go. He didn’t want to disappoint him…

Ryuga was shaken from his thoughts when Kenta pushed the door to the house open. The two of them walked inside. Kenta's parents were both on the couch, gazing at their phones.

“Oh, you two got back quick…” Kenta’s dad remarked, glancing up at them.

Kenta nodded. “Yeah, I just need to pick up some stuff. I have a tournament later today.” He immediately rushed toward his room.

“Okay, sweetie,” Kenta’s mom called after him.

Ryuga stood frozen for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts. He was going to a Bey stadium. If he didn't want to be recognized, he would have to use a disguise of some sort. However, he had nothing like that. Ryuga cast a glance at Kenta's parents, whose gazes were still fixed on their phones. Ryuga took a step forward.

*No! No way! I am not talking to them if I don't have to!* Ryuga froze. He didn't have any better ideas and being recognized at the tournament would probably be worse than dealing with Kenta's parents for a single conversation. *I guess I have to try.*

Ryuga took a deep breath and cleared his throat. Kenta’s parents looked up at him. Ryuga froze. *I hate this already. Why am I doing this?!*

“Can I borrow a jacket?” Ryuga blurted out, glancing at the window to avoid eye contact.

“A jacket?” Kenta’s dad sounded confused. “You’re wearing one right now.”

Ryuga had nearly forgotten he had his white jacket draped over his shoulders.

“A different one,” Ryuga replied, removing his white jacket and placing it aside. “I need one with a hood…”

Kenta’s mom grabbed a jacket off the coat-hanger.

“Here, will this work?” she asked, handing it to Ryuga.

He gazed at the jacket. It was long and black with a hood and a zipper. It wasn’t quite a cloak. However, Ryuga liked to think it was one.

“Yes,” Ryuga replied, slipping the jacket on.

“Got my stuff!” Kenta announced, rushing into the room. He looked up at Ryuga. “What’s with the getup?”

Ryuga walked toward the door and pulled it open. Kenta chased after him.

“Um, bye mom! Bye dad!” he called after them.

“Bye!”

“Good luck at your tournament!”

Kenta shut the door behind them and rushed to catch up with Ryuga. He walked by his friend’s side.

“Are you really not gonna tell me?” Kenta asked, tilting his head to the side.

Ryuga glanced down at him. “Tell you what?”

“Why are you wearing my mom’s jacket?”

“I didn’t want to be recognized at your tournament.”

Kenta’s eyes went wide. “Oh…” He looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

“I’ll see you then,” Ryuga added, turning to walk the other direction. “Do your best.” Kenta nodded. Determination burned in his gaze. Ryuga smiled and walked away.

(Author’s Note: Surprise! I’m actually not done with this story. I thought I was back when I finished chapter 3 but not long after posting, I got a burst of new ideas for this AU. So I started writing the ideas down and I ended up with enough material to fill six more chapters. So… yeah. This is a first. I’ve never gone back and continued a story after I thought I finished it. I considered making these six chapters a sequel but really, this story is already so short and the same conflict is continued and expanded so it made sense to keep it as one story. So yeah, look forward to five more chapters after this one.)

[dato-potato]

The Lost Son pt. 8

Took forever and a half again but hey, at least it’s here. 

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

——————————

“Can I help you?”

The woman looked around Janet into the house and she silently thanked that the kids were all either at school or out with Grace. “I’m here for my son.”

Janet smiled as pleasantly as she could, she had a guess as to who this woman was and there was no way she was letting her anywhere near Janet’s son. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re referring to.”

Janet began to close the door but the woman stuck her foot out. “I’m positive you do,” her tone was low and dangerous as she leaned in, looking behind Janet again and sighing heavily. “But it seems he’s not here, so send him a message, will you? Tell him his mother is here to get him.”

Without waiting for Janet to respond, the woman turned on her heel and left. Janet stood stunned as she watched three SUVs pull out of the driveway of the house, following each other down the road.

After they were gone, Janet hurried inside and dialled Damian’s number. 

——————————

Damian’s heart was pounding in his ears as he hung up with Janet. His mother… she really was back. He could feel everything spinning out of control as the need to do something became nearly unbearable. Deciding the best course of action, Damian began towards the grandfather clock he knew was an entrance to the cave.

“May I ask what you’re doing, Master Damian?” It still didn’t feel right to be called that but Damian ignored that for now. 

Damian clenched his jaw before turning and facing the old man, doing his best to school his features. “I need to use the cave computer, I’m sure it’s better than any computer money should be able to buy.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow down at him, considering before sighing. “I’m afraid Master Bruce hasn’t granted you access to the Batcomputer.” Damian stared at the butler for a moment, dumbfounded. Did he actually say the Batcomputer? He had to wonder how the man said that with a straight face. 

“I’m sorry, Alfred, but I need to get in there.” Damian stepped around Alfred but quickly found himself staring up at the ceiling, his back stinging from the force of being thrown back on it. Carefully, he got up from the floor, eyes narrowing at the seemingly unaffected man in front of him.

Damian would later learn just how dangerous Alfred’s background really was. 

“Apologies, Master Damian, but I think you’ll find getting into the cave rather tricky,” Alfred told him with a smile. He gave Damian one last look before walking back to do whatever it was that he did. 

After Alfred was out of sight, Damian lunged for the clock, turning the hands to 10:48 and waiting for the click. 

But the click never came. Damian turned the hands around again, setting them to the same time but still, nothing happened. With a defeated groan, Damian let his head knock against the clock. Surely there had to be other ways of getting in, the only problem was where.

 ——————————

Damian was found a few hours later, laying with his back against the floor and his feet propped up against the clock. Alfred did absolutely nothing to hide his amusement as he looked down at the boy.

“Lunch is ready, Master Damian,” he informed him with a small laugh. Damian groaned and turned to his side so he could get up. 

Damian glared at the man until his eyes started burning from the lack of blinking. He let out a long breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Am I just supposed to stay locked up in the manor?” He asked, clearly annoyed with his predicament. He didn’t have time for this, Janet and the kids could possibly be in danger and he’s just sitting around doing absolutely nothing.

“Certainly not, you’re free to leave at any time,” the butler assured with a curt nod.

Damian stared blankly at the man, his patience was wearing very thin. “And if I do, I run the risk of putting my family in danger.”

Alfred smiled brightly at the boy, “And by keeping you out of the cave and safely in the manor, we avoid the risk of you being in danger.”

Damian glared again but it quickly withered. He was so frustrated with everything but it all boiled down to himself; he was absolutely furious with himself because he felt as though he couldn’t protect his family. He thought by leaving he’d be able to keep them out of whatever this would inevitably turn into. He was stupid to think Talia wouldn’t find her way to the orphanage and that’s his fault. If he’d thought about it even a little, he’d have figured out that she would likely go there first. 

A hand fell to his shoulder and brought Damian out of his thoughts as he looked up into Alfred’s eyes, full of concern. Damian looked away, “Talia showed up at the orphanage. Janet called me earlier and told me. And what am I doing? Sitting around doing absolutely nothing.”

Alfred’s face was clear with concern when Damian looked back up at the man. “Are they all ok?” He asked carefully.

Damian nodded his head and Alfred levelled him with a sympathetic look and began to the dining room. “I’ll ring Master Bruce immediately and I’ll,” he paused to look behind him at Damian, “I’ll see what else I can do.”

Damian’s shoulders relaxed, he hadn’t even realized he was so tense. “Thank you,” he breathed and Alfred nodded as he walked off to call Bruce Wayne. At least he might have a chance to do something, after all, they saw how serious the issue was. He couldn’t stand doing nothing anymore, he’d rather smash his head through the grandfather clock until he’d made a hole to the cave. 

Damian was disappointed to learn that he was still barred entry to the cave but was glad to hear that Bruce Wayne would be installing motion sensors, cameras and any other security measures he thought necessary. 

——————————

“Ok, so if I want to check, I don’t know, maybe the backdoor, how would I change the camera?” Janet asked, pointing down at her phone that displayed the garage.

“You hit this button here,” Bruce explained patiently as he tapped the screen and it went black before displaying the backdoor. He had been explaining the app to Janet for a good half hour already but he wanted to make sure she understood how to use it.

Janet nodded, tapping through the other cameras before her phone began to beep and she froze. “What does that mean?”

Bruce moved beside her and tapped on the flashing notification. The screen went black again and then came back, showing the front door, something sitting on the front step. Bruce dashed to the front door, swinging it open in time to see a black SUV pulling away from the curb. 

Janet came up beside him, “So that was the alert.”

Bruce looked down at the letter that sat on the front step before he turned back to her. “I’ll set it to alert my phone as well,” he told her seriously.

Janet’s gaze landed on the letter still on the ground. “You know what kind of person his mother is?” Bruce could tell she was choosing her words carefully.

He nodded. “I do.”

“Can you deal with her? Keep him safe, keep us safe?” Bruce wasn’t sure how much Janet knew, clearly enough to know that Talia was a danger to the kids, but beyond that vague knowledge, it wasn’t obvious. 

“I will do everything in my power,” Bruce promised Janet sincerely. Janet nodded at that, seeming to be put at ease by his words. 

Janet gazed out the window at the setting sun. It had started to get dark so much earlier with winter coming. “I should get started on dinner then, and I’m sure you have important matters to attend to.” 

Bruce left the orphanage, letter in hand, feeling a bit conflicted. He hadn’t read the letter yet but was it something he should tell Damian about? Was it really worth it to have him worry even more about his family? Bruce shook his head, of course, it would be worth it. He didn’t exactly have the right to hide it from him anyway, and if he did try and hide it, it would just cause more issues he didn’t want to deal with. He was trying to get the boy to trust him, and hiding something like the letter would destroy what little trust he had built up.

When Bruce returned to the manor, he was greeted by Damian, practically vibrating with impatience.

“So? Any issues? Were the kids ok? What kind of security systems did you end up going with? In my opinion, the best option would be the—” Damian’s onslaught of questions was stopped by a soft knocking on the door and Bruce’s phone ringing. Damian huffed in annoyance before moving to get the door as Bruce reached for his cellphone and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Um, hello, Mr. Wayne,” Janet’s voice on the other end sounded panicked and Bruce was immediately set on high alert. “It seems Aurora is missing.” Bruce’s hands went numb. Had Talia actually kidnapped one of the kids? 

Before Bruce could formulate a response, Damian cleared his throat behind him. “Is she looking for this?” Bruce spun around, looking where Damian was pointing behind himself at the little girl who continued to try to hide behind Damian. Bruce sighed, barely registering Janet still going off in his ear about the child and if she had run off or if she was taken.

“Janet?” he interrupted, “She’s here, she’s safe.” There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. 

There was a long-suffering sigh, “Oh thank goodness,” Janet breathed. “If she’s there, I expect her home before bed, she’s in for the scolding of a lifetime,” Janet assured and Bruce felt himself shiver at the thought. 

“Of course, I’ll see you then.” And with that, they hung up. Bruce stood, staring at the child for a moment. “How did you get here?” he asked finally.

The small child just shrugged and pointed to the open door where his car still remained parked. Bruce tilted his head at the child, “Did you sneak into my car?” 

Aurora nodded and moved a bit more behind Damian who just looked between Bruce and the girl. They all stood in silence for a long moment before Alfred graced the three of them with his presence, “Would you like some supper, Miss Aurora?” 

Her face lit up as she grabbed Damian’s hand and followed Alfred to the dining room. Bruce trailed behind them, enjoying watching Damian interact with the young girl. He hadn’t been very talkative since he’d been at the manor, granted the circumstances weren’t the best and he hadn’t been there for very long but regardless, it was nice seeing another side to his son. His son that he barely knew. 

Bruce kicked himself for not being able to communicate better with him, he wanted to have a better relationship with him, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that. Maybe he could call Dick over that weekend so he could lend a hand. He always did have a way with people. Bruce decided he’d call Dick after he dropped Aurora back off. 

Dinner was… eventful. It had been a long time since Bruce shared a meal with someone not even in double digits in age but it was a nice change of pace from his usual meals, especially seeing how much Damian enjoyed having her there. When everyone was finished and they all walked to the door, Aurora had started crying, clinging to Damian.

Damian shushed her softly, taking her in his arms, “Rory, hey,” he started in a whispered voice as her sobs quieted, “I won’t be gone forever, it’ll only be a little bit.”

“But I want you home now,” she sniffled.

Damian shook his head, amused. “I know, little one, but I can’t just yet. I have some things that I need to deal with first,” he said, eyes glancing over to meet Bruce’s. 

It wasn’t until Damian asked Aurora if she could be the oldest sibling, helping Janet out around the house and helping with the kids, until he got back that she finally agreed with a sad nod of her head, dark curls bouncing as she did. 

Bruce drove her home in relative silence. Janet ran out of the house as soon as he arrived, barely waiting for Aurora to get out of the car before she brought her into her arms.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Wayne, really, I can’t thank you enough,” Janet said after she had done a thorough once-over of Aurora to make sure she wasn’t hurt anywhere.

“It’s not a problem, I’m just glad that she’s safe. Gave us all quite the scare,” he smiled down at the girl who pouted and looked away.

Janet nodded, “Yes, I’ll be sure to have a long talk with her,” she said, eyeing Aurora.

They said goodnight and Bruce got back into his car. When Bruce got back for the second time that day, Alfred greeted him. Bruce looked around the man, “Where’s Damian?”

“Master Damian retired early, I’m afraid,” he informed Bruce. 

Bruce frowned and made his way to his study. He still had the letter from Talia that he had yet to read. He sat down heavily in his chair, using his letter opener to slice the side of it and out slipped another letter, addressed to Damian and a short note to Bruce. I will see you soon, beloved. In the meantime, pass this on to our son, will you? Bruce scoffed at the message and tossed it to the side before glaring at the letter to Damian. He was tempted, but he refrained from opening it. Again, he didn’t want to break the delicate trust he had built up. Instead, he dialled his eldest’s number, hoping that Dick would be free to come up for the weekend. 

——————————

Damian watched Aurora leave, he knew it was what they should do, he couldn’t keep her with him, it was only more dangerous that way, he knew that, it’s just… he missed home. He missed Janet and the kids, the constant noise in the house and Janet’s cooking. It may not be as good as Alfred’s but it tasted like home. 

After the car was out of sight, Damian decided he’d go to bed early. His past sleeps had been quite restless as of late, for obvious reasons, so he figured any extra sleep that he could get in was a win. Unfortunately, that night proved to be no different from the rest, Damian tossing and turning for most of it before he finally fell into a light slumber, faraway voices calling out to him. 

When Damian looked around, he didn’t recognize the location, although he only got a small glimpse of his surroundings before he felt a burning pain all over his body. Reaching back to touch his shoulder, he found something sticking out of it. He couldn’t spend too much time on that either as he was lifted up into the air by a hulk of a man, his face covered from view by a mask of metal. Damian had no idea what the hell was going on but it quickly became clear, though why it was happening was still a question.

A sword was thrust into his chest and Damian gasped for air. His throat closed, preventing him from breathing properly, his mind clouding as panic overtook him. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to wake up but he didn’t. Instead, when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in a rather unassuming room. Damian turned around, looking for anything out of the ordinary but all he could see was four grey walls and one white door. Damian stepped towards the door but found his feet sluggish. A wave of nausea washed over him as he looked down at the bodies that lay unmoving at his feet. Damian turned away almost as soon as he saw, hoping to not have to see the faces, not have to recognize that he knows them. This can’t be real. He could not have just seen his family. Dead. 

Something heavy settled in his gut, his stomach turning as he averted his gaze, looking up at the ceiling, willing himself not to think about the fact that his family lay at his feet and—don’t. Don’t think about it. Damian could feel tears sting his eyes, a lump forming in his throat as he choked it back. It’s not real, they’re all fine. It’s not real. 

When Damian opened his eyes again, he was greeted by a dark room, not his own room but still familiar. Slowly, he sat up, his breathing still uneven and shallow. His hands shook as he brought them to his face, startling at the damp feeling under his eyes. Damian sat forward and took a shaky breath in. When he let it out, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed out of the room. There was no way he could stay still after something like that. 

He wandered the halls, planning on going to the library but stopping when he came across a room with a light on. He was pretty sure it was Bruce’s study and not that he wanted to snoop around, he was just curious, and that would be the perfect thing to take his mind off of his nightmare. He sauntered into the room, casually taking in the pictures hung on the wall of his family, as well as proof of his accomplishments that were displayed, and various other knick-knacks. 

“What are you doing in here?” Damian didn’t mean to flinch, but he hadn’t heard anyone come up behind him. Slowly, Damian turned around, facing a very apprehensive Bruce Wayne.

“I couldn’t sleep and decided I’d head to the library,” Damian explained lamely.

Bruce Wayne raised an amused eyebrow, “This isn’t the library.”

“Yeah, well, the light was on and I got a bit curious,” Damian mumbled, looking down at the desk next to him. His eyes widened as they landed on a letter. A letter addressed to him in his mother’s handwriting.

Damian reached out to grab it slowly. “What is this?” Bruce Wayne’s eyes flicked between the letter and Damian. “How long have you had this?”

Bruce Wayne put his hands out in front of him in a calming manner but it was doing everything but calming Damian at that moment. “I got it earlier today when I was installing the security system in the house,” he explained evenly.

Damian scoffed, “Right, and when did you plan on telling me?”

“As soon as I got home,” he replied instantly. He seemed to know what Damian wanted to ask next as he sighed, “I was going to tell you as soon as I got home, but Aurora showed up and I completely forgot. When I got back from dropping her off, you had already gone to bed, I wasn’t going to wake you up for it.”

Damian wanted to be angry but he knew he had no reason to be. It made sense, it just didn’t make him any less upset about it. He looked at the letter and ripped it open. He scanned the words before scoffing and throwing the letter into the lit fireplace. 

Bruce Wayne watched it burn curiously, “What did it say?” he asked finally.

Damian shrugged, watching the paper curl in on itself, “Told me that she was coming for me, to be prepared to go back and some other vague threats.”

Bruce Wayne nodded seriously, “Right, exactly what you’d expect from a mother-son correspondence.”

Damian turned incredulously to Bruce Wayne, “Did you just make a joke?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said nonchalantly.

Damian shook his head, he could barely believe his own ears, perhaps he was still dreaming. 

“Did you want to raid the kitchen? I think Alfred hid his cookies somewhere,” Bruce Wayne asked him carefully.

After thinking about it for a moment, Damian nodded once, “Why not? How much trouble could we really get in?”

Bruce paused, an odd mischievous glint in his eye, “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

——————————

Dick received the call the night before, Bruce asking for him to come up to the manor on the weekend which Dick was more than happy to oblige. It wasn’t often Bruce asked for help so it had to be serious. Dick knew about the kid and Talia so he could only assume it had something to do with that. He figured he’d surprise Alfred, coming Friday since he had the day off anyway. Dick wasn’t expecting to be met face to face with the kid immediately after knocking on the door.

“Hey, nice to see you again,” Dick nodded to the kid who nodded back.

“You too.”

Alfred smiled gently at Dick from behind Damian, “I’m pleased to see you back home, Master Dick. Did Master Bruce call you?”

Dick smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, he asked me to come down on the weekend but I figured I’d take advantage and come down on my day off and stay for the weekend.”

“Right, well let me put the kettle on,” Alfred said, seeming very pleased with the surprise arrival and hurried into the house, the two boys following after. 

Damian seemed to be a bit more comfortable than the last time Dick had seen him, so that was good, although he was still on constant alert, his eyes darting around to possible escape routes. Dick pitied the poor kid, he’d had to have been through hell being Talia’s son and then finding out suddenly that Bruce is his father, it can’t have been easy. Dick tried to think of what to say to the kid when Alfred returned with tea.

“Master Bruce said he’d come home as soon as he can,” Alfred informed Dick.

Dick shook his head, “He should really just focus on running his damn company,” he muttered and then sighed, “Well, I guess that means we get to hang out, little dude.”

Damian froze in his spot, cup lifted to his lips before he slowly lowered it and cautiously eyed Dick. “Hang out?”

“Yep,” Dick said, standing up abruptly. “We can do some sparring if you’d like?”

Damian seemed to consider it for a long moment, Dick hoping he’d take the invitation as he had no idea what else to do with the kid. Finally, he seemed to come to a conclusion, “I suppose that wouldn’t be a terrible idea.”

Dick grinned down at the boy and they both made their way down to the cave. Once they got down to the training area and had changed into more appropriate clothing, they stood opposite each other on the large mat. 

“You ready to go down, little D?” Dick taunted with a smirk.

Damian tilted his head, “Little D?” He narrowed his eyes at the man across from him who simply shrugged the name off as Damian shook his head in disbelief. “I refuse to go down easily.”

Dick chuckled, easily falling into a fighting stance, feet spread apart, core held tight and hands held up. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Damian followed suit, copying Dick’s stance and readying himself. Dick smirked and lunged forward, trying to catch Damian off-guard which succeeded, somewhat. Damian dodged but wasn’t quite fast enough as Dick’s strike clipped his shoulder. 

Damian made a face before turning to Dick and sending a roundhouse kick to Dick’s side. It would’ve solidly hit if Dick hadn’t twisted away. He caught Damian’s arm as he threw a punch at Dick, sweeping the kid’s arm down and then back up behind his back. He went to ask if the kid gave up but before he got the chance, Damian sent his head back hard, Dick letting his arm go and then receiving a swift elbow to the gut. 

——————————

Bruce watched, a small smile on his face.

“Is this what you were hoping for? Inviting Master Dick to the manor?” Alfred asked Bruce.

He shook his head, “Actually, no. I wanted Dick to come so I could have a conversation about how to better talk to the kid and help him open up but looks like Dick already has that covered.” Bruce couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest, watching his eldest and youngest spar, both wearing comfortable smiles. 

“And?” Alfred asked, turning to look at Bruce fully, “What of Master Timothy?”

Bruce sighed, running a tired hand down his face, “He’ll be back from his mission tomorrow, just on time to help us out with this situation here too.”

Alfred nodded approvingly, “About time we had a family dinner.”

Bruce wasn’t sure he was quite ready for the chaos that that statement would entail but he figured the more help they had with the current case, the better. May as well call everyone back.

——————————

It’s been almost a year since I started writing this and rereading it, I can tell where I went wrong (ie I didn’t know enough about Cass and Duke in particular to add them in and now I REGRET so freaking much, also just how I didn’t really think too much about it in the beginning) but regardless, I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you guys enjoy reading it. <3

Taglist (if you want on this, lemme know): 

@hyp-oh-critical

[isa-ghost]

A Formal Report To Staff

I’ve emailed the support team three times, each with strong feedback. Each containing MORE PROBLEMS than the last email. I begged them to take me off the beta. In fits of frustration, I’ve demanded to be taken off it too. I was told I’d have to deal with it. I was given responses that were little or no help at all. And I’m not the only one having these issues. These issues have been so severe and frustrating, I have been the least active on the site I have ever been. I have heavily contemplated leaving Tumblr altogether, and have been extremely displeased (to say the least) that these issues have prevented me from enjoying my blog, interacting with my friends/mutuals, and more. 

This beta was forced onto users without warning, without user’s consent, with no insight as to what would change, how it would change, why it would change, what was new, or any other changes/additions the beta would give. This lack of communication is unprofessional, inexcusable, and irresponsible. And the fact that they don’t give you an option to turn it off or opt out is, quite frankly, bullshit. Implementing a "beta” that feels half-assed and has this many issues in the first place without any kind of communication is irresponsible.

Their only semi-decent answer to this problem has been XKit. Which is not compatible/available with all browsers!! And really, it should be a big sign they SHOULDN’T CHANGE/ADD SOMETHING if their answer to it is “oh, just use XKit to undo it/turn it off.” JUST DON’T DO IT! You shouldn’t be relying on an extension/add-on to make your users happy! And if the users who don’t want these changes/additions are somehow the minority in all this, I certainly don’t see a single peep of any kind anywhere from the users that want/are supportive of these things! I’ve seen nothing but problems with this beta being reported, and frustration/hatred of it being expressed. And 0 action taken by the staff to fix any of it. If it’s still being worked on, it never should have been released to users in the first place. They should not be forced to put up with the bugs that this beta still has. The staff should not be randomly selecting users (not every user has had the beta forced upon them) to be beta testers. This is also irresponsible of them.

The staff’s communication to users about updates is AWFUL. The way they implement new things or change existing things without any mention of it or warning of when these things officially implement is AWFUL. 99% of the time they add or change something, nobody wants it or asked for it, and/or it’s a tiny change that didn’t need any attention whatsoever to begin with! They seriously need to start remembering the saying, “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it!“ The staff should be holding polls or ASKING users their opinions on something before they do it, not just throwing it in and forcing them to deal with it! And if they don’t want to wait for feedback on an idea before they do it, then they should ALWAYS make an option to turn off/opt out of whatever it is!

Tumblr’s most BASIC FUNCTIONS: posting, reblogging, editing posts, a user’s personal settings, HAVE BROKEN. They will not open or load, and if they do, the user has to wait several seconds before it FINALLY opens. When it doesn’t open, this happens:

This can/will appear 2-5+ TIMES (aka, the user will have to try and click “Aa Text/etc,” the reblog button, or the edit button 2-5+ TIMES, and on top of that, the window takes several seconds to load each time before you even know if it’s going to actually open or not!!) before Tumblr lets you open the posting window, the reblog window, or the editing window. It might even be happening with other functions on Tumblr that I just haven’t personally experienced yet.

Tumblr’s most BASIC FUNCTIONS should NEVER be malfunctioning, no matter what. A half-implemented beta/update, some random issue, NOTHING. NOTHING should make these functions unable to be used or any sort of hassle to use! This shouldn’t be happening, and shouldn’t be allowed to happen! It honestly makes the staff look incompetent when these simple things aren’t developed to a point where they don’t break. At the very least, they should not break as often as they do. And speaking of basic functions breaking, don’t even get me started on how often tags break and malfunction. That’s been an issue forever, and a highly reported and complained about one at that. And yet here the staff are, once again changing the whole appearance of Tumblr instead of working on more pressing issues; thus once again making its userbase feel unheard or ignored.

And as if those basic functions breaking aren’t enough, there’s YET ANOTHER ONE that (at least for me) keeps breaking! THE DASHBOARD ITSELF.

Anywhere between 2 seconds and a few minutes, if I scroll any longer than that, this happens to my dash, and nothing will load. And if I try to scroll back up for it to load, the things that HAD loaded are no longer loaded OR the dash just straight up disappears and all I see is the dash’s blue background. At that point I can’t even refresh my dashboard to fix it or click anything whatsoever. I have to close Tumblr and reopen it in a new tab. And most of the time, I can’t even do that, because this BREAKS MY ENTIRE BROWSER. 

MY ENTIRE BROWSER WILL STOP RESPONDING 1-3+ TIMES BEFORE I CAN DO ANYTHING AT ALL. Sometimes it will crash COMPLETELY. Not only that, but when Tumblr lags my entire browser and makes it stop responding, then EVERY OTHER APPLICATION ON MY LAPTOP will lag out or stop responding as well! My laptop is admittedly old, but even in its old age, it DIDN’T DO THIS BEFORE THE BETA WAS FORCED UPON ME. The beta is literally screwing with my WHOLE laptop because its issues start with the site, extend to my browser, then spread to anything else I have running at the time! While some of that is most likely my laptop’s age showing, again, it never did this before the beta started to mess with everything.

Being on Tumblr just... isn’t worth this much frustration. This needs to change. It needs to be taken off user’s accounts until it’s completed or (preferably to me) not implemented at all.

On top of all of these issues, I personally have been suffering another huge problem with this beta. My add-on Tumblr Savior will not work. I use Tumblr Savior to blacklist URLs of blogs I don’t want to interact with (and have blocked, but Tumblr’s blocking system is awful and doesn’t keep blocked blog’s posts off your dash or anything. Blocking a blog should COMPLETELY wipe the existence of a blog you block out of your sight EVERYWHERE. But that’s a whole other issue I won’t even get into... Again, a highly reported and complained about issue that the staff haven’t done anything about). I also use it to blacklist tags I don’t want to see, or a tag that people I follow use for their followers to blacklist a specific type of content. I use it to blacklist words and phrases so posts containing them don’t appear. I use them to blacklist triggers and things that make me uncomfortable. I know many users who also use this add-on to properly blacklist URLs, tags, words, phrases, and more to keep it off their dashboards. Many use this to blacklist triggers and sensitive material that Tumblr’s filtering systems do not properly take care of. This add-on not functioning with this beta could be harmfully affecting users. I personally cannot enjoy being on Tumblr without Tumblr Savior functioning to properly filter all that I need filtered.

This is every URL, tag, word, phrase, or otherwise that I have to blacklist to comfortably be active on Tumblr. NONE of those things are being properly blacklisted by Tumblr’s filtering system (especially blacklisting URLs to properly block a blog since Tumblr doesn’t) and are appearing on my dash and bothering me. Not only that, but Tumblr Savior ALSO does the following for me:

Since Tumblr Savior isn’t functioning, my radar, sponsored, suggested blogs, etc are all crowding my dash and also bothering me. Those checks mean they should be hidden. They are not hidden. I’ve had to unfollow some tags that I was following because they’d keep suggesting random annoying posts to me. 

I even restored defaults and reloaded all of my saved blacklists and settings. It didn’t work. I’m assuming its obviously not up to the staff to make Tumblr Savior work because it’s not theirs. But on the other hand, it was working fine until they forced the beta on me. The beta is what’s making it not work. The beta, between all the issues I’ve mentioned before, and making me unable to use Tumblr Savior to enjoy being on the site comfortably, is making it basically impossible for me to be on the site at all. I’ve mentioned all of this information in the three emails I sent and none of it was effectively acknowledged, let alone fixed.

And lastly:

I just... I really REALLY hate this. I hate it on mobile (but I tolerate it), and I REEEALLY hate it on desktop (I REALLY want it gone!!). Desktop and mobile don’t need to be similar!! Desktop is desktop and mobile is mobile, stop changing them to be the same constantly!! AT LEAST give users an option to turn this stupid number’s visibility off! I get tons of notifications from all my blogs, I get a TON (99+) on my main blog alone! I don’t want this here!! I don’t need to be notified I have notifications, I know! I don’t need to be pressured and pestered to look at them every frickin time I get one!! This is one of those changes that didn’t need to be added!

Instead of breaking everything on the site, and focusing on the appearance of Tumblr, here are just SOME of the suggestions/requests that TONS of users have mentioned in the past, all of which (to my knowledge) have been ignored or unseen by staff:

The ability to change what blog is your main blog.

FIXING THE TAGS, so posts ACTUALLY appear in them and none of the other issues happen.

When all posts containing a certain tag are deleted, the tag stops appearing in your tag history.

Fix the problem where posts with links in them don't show up in tags.

PROPER BLOCKING. If I block a blog, I don’t want to see it ANYWHERE. I don’t want to see it in tags I look at, I don’t want to see it reblogged onto my dash by people I follow. I want it completely GONE so I don’t have to blacklist URLs.

Sending asks from a side blog

THE F*CKING BOT PROBLEMS!!!

Add the different text fonts and colors available on mobile also available on desktop

When a blog is reported, DONT JUST GIVE THE OPTION TO BLOCK. They're being reported FOR A REASON.

When a blog is hidden from Google search results, you can no longer search for tags/posts on that blog's search bar. FIX THAT.

There's been a glitch lately where if you click a notification about a post to see said post, it says the post no longer exists/has been deleted when it hasn't.

Make it so when you block a blog on your main blog, it blocks that blog on all your sideblogs too.

When the OP is deleted, delete all reblogs of the post.

After I finished this post, TAG CRAWLER STOPPED WORKING. FIX THAT! Unbelievable.

There's plenty more ACTUALLY helpful things that could be changed or added, but these are the ones I see talked about the most. Anyone who reblogs this, please don't add more because it's not the point of this post, thanks.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I’m emailing it to the support and hoping the staff actually read and do something about it. To any users reading this, reblogging to signal boost is much appreciated. Any additions backing up what I’ve said here are appreciated as well; especially if the staff take the time to look through the notes to see I really am not the only one who strongly dislikes this beta and is having far more issues with it than it’s worth.

[remromfantasies]

The Five Times Remus Felt Unloved And The One Time He Was Reminded - RemRom fic!

Summary: Remus is upset that his crush doesn’t like him back, but maybe he can still be happy about what they already have.

Warnings: Depression, one-way feelings, self-doubt, ooh honey the angst, but! It is hurt/comfort... I think.... 🤔

Words: 1.3k

Remus sat beside Roman for lunch. They were supposed to be working on their homework, but Roman had gotten preoccupied with their other friends.

Patton and Virgil had leaned over his computer screen to see what he was doing. Roman smiled and bounced in his seat as he boasted about his online boyfriend. The two of them had met months ago and about half of that was when they got together.

Yes, Roman was very aware of Remus’ emotional feelings towards him, yet it seemed as if he either forgot entirely or that he just didn’t care. Roman had offered to try it, but felt uncomfortable the whole time, therefore breaking up within a matter of weeks. Remus acknowledged the burning in his chest, but didn’t dwell on it. He knew it was pointless and that he was lucky to have even gotten as far as they had. He stared at his papers, but couldn’t read the words. He barely saw how far away they were.

“OH MY GOSH, you guys have to see him! He is the hottest person ever!!” Roman boasted, scrolling through their messaging. Remus’ heart rate stopped momentarily. How he wished he could drown it out and forget what they were talking about. Although, Remus couldn’t help but look at the picture on screen.

Remy was a good looking man. His eyes sparkled, his smile shone, and he had freckles, which was always a bonus to Roman. He was everything Remus felt he wasn’t. His eyes were bland, his smile was stupid, and he didn’t have freckles. He was also the one person parents would warn their children about: he was creepy and made crude jokes and he didn’t wear deodorant.

Maybe if he had told Roman just a little more often that he loved him, things could be different. But instead, Remus was selfish and was now forced to sit here and stare at what he could never be, and what he could never have.

“And look! He called me his ‘hummingbird’!!”

———

“Hey, Remus?” Roman asked, leaning towards his brother. Remus took his eyes off his work and faced him. “Are you staying home tonight? We’re having pizza!” Remus, always willing to jump at an opportunity to spend time with Roman, was quick to agree. Virgil might call him clingy, but the relationship that he has with Logan is even worse than his own. He couldn’t complain.

The two walked back to their house after school, engaging in plenty of conversation. Not once did they fail to bring up an interesting topic. Remus, even though he so badly wanted to reach out and hold tight to his crush, smiled and spoke, embracing everything in that moment that he could.

Although, as they came up to their place, of course things would change.

“Oh! Remy sent me an idea for one of his projects. It was really good! My poor boy, though, he’s so self-conscious: you’d never expect it from such a play-it-cool kinda guy! He was really nervous about it, even with me.” Remus clenched his jaw, but refused to look upset. Had Roman maybe paid closer attention to him, he’d notice that he was even more self-conscious than this dude, and no, he didn’t really show it either, but sometimes it just slips out! He had always wanted to tell Roman about things he had created. But first it was Roman who had outshone him. And now, it’s Remy.

Apparently, Remy is always creating. He makes a different variety of content and posts it all over the internet. What does he have to be so self-conscious about? He’s practically famous!

He knew that Roman at least somewhat appreciated his jokes. Roman loved to laugh, even if it was just to appease someone, he’d be happy to venture on the edge. But something told him that Roman didn’t really want to and that he liked doing other things more, like learning or crafting. The last thing he’d want to do would be to bring him down.

No one wants a sad Roman.

So, Remus powered through. He listened to Roman ramble about his feelings for his boyfriend, put in constructive input where needed and paid close enough attention to understand just how much they seemed to love each other. Any time he felt overwhelmed during his stay, he would claim to use the washroom and take the time to help recover.

———

Remus came up to where Roman was waiting on their usual bench. He was sitting on his phone, scrolling. Remus took a glance to see what had caught his interest, only to notice the bombardment of hearts beneath the name “Remy Sanders”. His heart throbbed as he took a seat.

“Hey, Remus!” Roman greeted. “You’ll never guess what Remy sent me!”

•

Remus felt movement on his right and glanced at Roman. They were midway through the class and halfway done their work. Roman pulled his phone from his pocket. Remus watched, expecting him to check the time, yet he continued to roam through his apps. Once he found his messaging, he opened it and clicked on the first name to pop up. It said, of course, “Remy Sanders” with three hearts on either side of his name. Patton stared at the screen for a second before pocketing his phone again.

Did he really go to their chat just to see his name or something? What was the point? He’d feel a vibration if he had a message and he’s already read the other ones written. Did he miss Remy that much already..?

•

Roman was scrolling through tumblr, showing Remus a bunch of cute pictures on his dash. He scrolled past them rather quickly, having seen them all before, and said things simply, like ‘oh, look at this one”, “this ones so funny”, “oh, I nearly forgot about this one”. Remus smiled along as Roman showed him the things he adored.

However, that same ache in his chest pounded at his ribs as the next one was one from Remy.

“Oh! Look, this is Remy’s!” No, duh. “He reblogged this last night. Look at the sweet messages he left! Isn’t he such an angel??” Remus agreed, nodding and humming contentment. His expression collapsed the moment Roman turned away and Remus worked to decide if he was angry or depressed.

———

Remus sat silently, scrolling through Tinder on his phone. Roman was talking with their friends about random things, things he could care less about. It was when a heavy weight plopped itself down onto his knees that Remus startled, his eyes shooting away from his screen.

“Reeeeemuuuuus,” Roman whined, sprawling out. Logan Remus and shut off his device, looking down smugly at his crush.

“Yes, Roman?”

“Hi.” Remus let out a scoff. He was almost as goofy as Patton sometimes.

“Can I help you with something?” Roman smiled a toothy grin and rolled onto his tummy, his side pressing against Remus’ stomach.

“Nope! Just saying ‘hi’.” Remus smiled a little wider and gently rested his hands on Roman’s back. He relaxed at the simple touch and stared down longingly at Roman. Times like these were what he lived for. Even though Roman did it because he was a touchy-feely kind of person, it still made Remus’ heart beat faster.

Roman remained across his legs for the remainder of their time, scrolling through his messages with Remy. Remus almost didn’t care. Sure, every other time made him feel entirely worthless and pointless to this man's life, but when Roman showed that he didn’t forget about him, he couldn’t help but feel that it was still, somehow, enough. He’d take anything he could get without crossing boundaries.

However, he’d never tell Roman that. Roman was so, so happy with Remy and if Remus was to ruin that even the slightest — whether that be showing his vulnerability to the situation, proving his true feelings instead of pushing them so far down, or just admitting that he was a little jealous, Remus would never, ever forgive himself. For no matter what Roman chose in his life, he’d give everything he had and more to keep him happy. He’ll do what it takes. Roman taught him that.

[sirene312]

oh GOD guys…. You have no idea the crusade i had to went through just to be sitting here, with my dear computer working again, and enjoying the joy of 1.9 Mbps internet connection speed. First thing on the front page of my dash was three shitposts on a row, new niche memes, and good ‘ol fandom drama. god how I missed this hell site. 

In case anyone wants to know what happened, I will put behind a ‘read more’ the story of a missing computer part that quickly become a detective mission, that dragged me unwillingly into the wild ride I didn’t signed for when pressing ‘buy’ on an online store.

TL;DR at the end bc this is very long. English is not my first language so please bear with me! 

Okay, some of you may know a bit about me since apparently i don’t have a “dude shut up! Stop oversharing your woes!!!” button on me but hey here are some things to know about me in case you are curious: I live in Venezuela and not having internet is my personality trait, living in my country is very hard, hard like trying to play the Rainbow Road of Mario Kart but you have butter on your hands, your eyes are closed and you are running on the rain while there is a 8.0 earthquake happening. That hard. I work as a freelance graphic designer and make art commissions so me and my family can survive the economic crisis on my country, having internet and a working computer is a really big deal, like literally we eat thanks to it. Now you see how that would led me to spend a whole month chasing and stressing over a stupid part my computer needed.

Back in December, remember last season of “what’s troubling Sirene now?” where i spend almost a month without internet and then yay internet is back! for like two days? well, after Christmas there was a sudden power cut one night and i was on my computer working on a commission but since this is now a common occurrence i didn't think anything of it …until next day when i tried to switch my computer ON it didn't. I tried everything to revive it, grabbing anxiously my hair, walking on circles, and pressing continuously the power button, you know everything, but it was in vain. It’s dead, Jim. As you can imagine i had a breakdown when i realized i won’t be able to work anymore and needed to buy a new power supply since this one was toast…and was without internet friggin again. AGAIN. I survived till now using my crappy phone data but heavy apps hardly load, tumblr/ao3/twitter sometimes loaded if i refreshed them like a madman. 

My computer is a tiny model and has a power supply that apparently is made by beavers in Narnia, because is so uncommon that the only stores that sell them are on my Capital city two states away from where i live. Knowing this, there is not other alternative for me but to use a online store and shipping the package here, in theory sounds simple right? a reminder that this is a third world country, where everything is falling apart and barely holding it together with chewing gum and prayers, what are the odds of something going wrong hmm….

Okay, this happened in the week after Christmas and before New Year's Eve, so of course all stores in my country decided to go on vacation and return on January. I impatiently waited for two online stores to be back on business that have the power supply i need, they were physical stores too so i thought i would be safe. i liked one more than the other and, as i told my friends, i felt like a telenovela protagonist that was on a love triangle with two galanes but the hotter one was in coma and the other just had 3 episodes in, meaning that the better rated store was still offline and the other was online but only had like 3 products sold …not very reassuring but i desperately needed to start working again so i went with that one. Big mistake.

Everything started on Tuesday, January 14. 

Mercado Libre is a page where people sell things like Amazon, this is where the seller of the power supply was, after you click on buy, you can see the seller info and a chat to talk to them, i wrote but there was not immediate response so i called, i spoke to a woman and she told me to text her on WhatsApp, that should have been my first red flag, if the app had a perfect chat option there why text outside of it?? 

whatever, i went and text her, asked when would she send the package and she told me “tomorrow” the shipping company she was going to use is called “Zoom” (remember that name bc it will be mentioned a lot) when you send something they give the sender (the store) a tracking number the sender should give YOU in order for the shipping office (Zoom) in your city to give you the package. (this number is important)

this was my first time buying anything online so i didn’t know any of that just vaguely knew how it worked, so i asked her if she the next day would give me the tracking number or the shipping company would call me when my package was on the shipping center? and she told me “both, i will give you the number and they are going to call you” I said perfect, thank you very much and thought ‘hey that went well!’ 

Unknown to me, for the next 10 days i was going suffer a weird and painful skin reaction on both hands, and man…it was bad (tw graphic description of a skin condition ahead) the skin on the palm of my hands completely fell off, and it burned like i had scraped my hands on the sidewalk and someone was pouring lemon juice on them. Ouch. as you can imagine all my attention was on what was going on with my hands. I still don’t know what could have caused that severe reaction.

With difficulty texted the woman on Monday 20 i asked again for the tracking number but she said “i’m waiting for the bike delivery guy to give me the number but your package was sent” so she -the store seller- dont go personally to Zoom to send the packages and some else does, i tell the woman again to give me the number as soon as she has it, bc Zoom has an app you can check your package rute and status with that number, she said “okey amiga”.

That week, i could barely lift a fork i was suffering from whatever it was that happened to my hands until my mom found an Aloe Vera plant and i started to rub that gooey, viscose gel thingy on my hands and was slowly getting better, (seriously guys, Aloe Vera plants are a godsend keep one or 10 at home) by the time i suddenly remembered about the package it was Friday 24 the woman didn’t text me anything like she said would do and i didn’t receive any calls either all week, so friday i text her asking again for the tracking number and oh yes finally she has it! My happiness was short lived because……THE PACKAGE WAS RETURNED.

Something occurred and there was an error on the address or something (I triple checked all my personal info was in order before i gave it to her -thanks anxiety!- so i know it was not on me) i was so furious if only the woman had given me the friggin number sooner that week, i would have realized there was something wrong and would have gone to the Zoom on my city where the package was being held before it was returned to the capital. She told me she would send again my package that Friday BUT Zoom only works mon-fri not weekends. Now I need to wait till monday to receive my thing. great.

Monday 27 rolls in and that week i proceeded to text the woman EVERY SINGLE DAY asking if she had sent my package, i hated being a nuisance texting so much but it was necessary, money is getting short and we need food. 

On Wed 29 I even texted her a desperate plea, i told her please i need my power supply to start working again! and you know how she responded? BY LEAVING ME ON SEEN. i called her until she answered and she told me “oh i sent it today” she assured me, in the most unsure voice she could muster, that she totally did it.

So I went the next day to the Zoom office and surprise! it was a lie, she didn’t send anything, nada! again asked her for the new track.num. and she told me “amiga the thing is that …the package has not arrived here. is still in your State.“ [*record scratch*] hmm whAT?

I immediately called Zoom and asked them to tell me where my package is? Where is it!?, it’s still in my city or in the Capital?? So they gave me a number for the returned package to check on the app and…said it arrived at the Capital Fri. 24. Not only that but it was marked as "given to the client” aka the sender. 

Now I realize this woman has been lying to me. For a whole week. I text her screenshots of where the package was and she tells me that supposedly the package is not on Zoom there and insists it is here in my State. A friend knows someone that works on Zoom that checks their database and confirms that no, is not here anywhere and that definitely arrived in the Capital. even shows that a man named A. Rodriguez was the one that picked up the package. Who is this man?? what's going on?

here's a meme i sent my friends in the group chat while i was trying not to freak out about all this. 

This has become a "she-said, he-said" situation because the woman keeps insisting Zoom is the one at fault about the whereabouts of my missing package but Zoom says Hold it! And slaps continuous evidence that shows the places where the package has been at all times. 

Meanwhile I’m like “where the hell is my power supply??? All I want is to work. Why is this happening to me?” ;_;

So far what we know:

Package arrived in my city but was returned to the city of origin (the Capital) on Friday 24.

The following week the store seller lied to me and would everyday promise to send the package again to me. and never did.

On Thursday 30 the woman tells me that the package never arrived from my city and she’s waiting for it to “arrive” but the shipping office tells me the package was returned a week ago on Fri. 24 so it’s impossible that it has not arrived. not for nothing they are called ZOOM they deliver fast.

the app even says “given to the client”, and one thing I know for a fact, is that it is near impossible to pick up a package from there without the friggin tracking number, they won’t even give you info about it without it. so it’s very unlikely that a random person just walked away with it.

so we have two possibilities: 

1. Someone from Zoom stole it. Ok, feasible. Corrupt people working on this kind of service in my country steal things of value all the time. still i doubt this was the case, the company seemed really concerned and would try their best to help me find my package giving me all the info i requested, even the name of the person who took it. 

2. the store seller lied again and the man who took the package is the same bike delivery guy that transported it there in the first place. That's how they were able to take it from there so easily. She denied knowing anyone named A. Rodriguez but she has lied before so i don’t trust her word. To me, this is the more likely scenario for what happened to the package. 

February comes and still I have no idea where is my package and the woman keeps making excuses as to why she “hasn’t found it” she again leaves me on seen after I asked for information, next day I called her non stop because now I’m pissed and i want answers, she finally text me that she will send another power supply since she “couldn’t find the first one” no further explanation whatsoever, and tells me will send it on Friday, but remember that Zoom don’t work on weekends so the new package will be staying on the Zoom office until Monday, my friend tells me that is not good what if the thief works there and steals it again? so I asked the woman to send it on Monday and she tells me that only Tuesdays they send all their stuff to be delivered….now she tells me the store have a specific delivery day? Now? 

I’m not happy about waiting for more days but there is nothing i can do about it so February 11 is here and I send the woman a text telling her to take a photo of the receipt with the tracking number so the story of the first package won’t repeat, and guess what? The woman left me on seen!! you don’t know how that blue seen mark got me shook. that stressed me so bad that finally I had enough, my friends encouraged me to cancel the order and ask for a refund, I stopped texting her on WhatsApp and left a ultimatum on the Mercado Libre chat, that way I had proof on that page of the fraud this woman was pulling on me and could get her banned there. I should have done that before but the need to repair my computer blinded me and was what kept me trying so hard to get my power supply. Desperation can drive you to make foolish decisions. 

After my ultimatum, the woman changed her tune and was very solicitous, and replied super fast, even said on the chat “let it be noted we are a serious company and always answered all your messages” yes, she said THAT, can you believe the audacity, the nerve? I immediately reply “since you didn’t answer any of my texts yesterday, can’t fault me for expressing here my concern about my purchase.”  Then I said very politely but with finality that if she did not send me the photo of the receipt with the tracking number the next day I would not hesitate bitch to ask for a refund. And what do you know? Worked like a charm. The next day the first thing in the morning on my phone was a photo of the receipt.

 SO yes this unnecessary long story has an anticlimactic but happy end after all! Next morning I happily went to the Zoom office and after a whole month of countless lies, unanswered texts, blood, sweat, and tears, I picked up mypower supply. Reunited at long last! This happened on February 14. Valentine’s Day. Love -and being persistent af- always wins! 

TL;DR I bought online a new power supply, the seller tried to scam me or something bc lied about how my purchase was “lost” saying the shipping company was the culprit. Sending me on a wild goose chase trying to find my package. i had to threaten her with a refund to get her to send me finally my power supply.

[namjoonchronicles]

beautiful, tragic | yoongi

✿ pairing: yoongi x you ✿ genre: domestic, yoongi as a husband, fluff, suggestive content, slight smut ✿ words: 4k ✿ summary: it’s hard sharing your musically talented husband with the world, and this is your story.

Stay home. He says. Watch the house. He says.

You’re stuck, scrolling idly on your phone with your drama on Netflix long abandoned on your 85” Sony LED Screen, equipped with the sound system that would surpass Dolby Surround System if it ever went on competition with each other.

Apart from the boring international celeb news, who broke up and who got divorced, the politic scene is too awry for you to read and you were not prepared for that headache so early in the day. One particular headline caught your attention, though.

Billboard Judge, Music Producer Min Yoongi Purchases USD$3M UN Village Villa In Cash.

Excuse me, what?

Screenshot. Clicking the home button on your phone, you tapped on Kakao Talk app next and ignored the messages from your ex-classmates group that has mounted to 120 unread texts and straight to ‘Fish’ ID.

You had sent him the screenshot of the news clipping, and proceed to multi-text him the following:

????????? Why wasn’t I informed?? Yoongi. What did I tell you about purchasing things without a proper discussion? Behind my back?? The nerve?? Bitch, square up when you get home. I also have watched five episodes without you. Fuck you.

Delivered. The anger had made you toss your phone to the side on the couch. This stupid huge ass house he is never in. You grind your jaws, glaring at your wedding picture on the top corner of your wall. And he dares to buy another one. You can hear him whispering a silent fuck from the distant. Fuck--is quite right, Yoongi. Your phone dings a new message in less than twenty minutes. He had machine-gunned you with replies that your phone had trouble keeping up with. You crossed your arm, scoffing at the sight of his name blinking on your screen. Oh, now you want to call me.

Volume : 70%, 75%, 85%. Netflix show has dimmed the sound of his calls and desperate texts.

He just never learns, does he? You’re starting to feel like he feeds on these little arguments like ginseng soup--has to have it when he’s unwell or deprived of something. Now that’s something you didn’t share with him. Yoongi’s work prevents him to be home as often as he’d like, requires him to befriend sketchy men and women with hidden agendas, they also constantly separate you and him--all this, you know and understood from the beginning. But like flying kites, when kites with strings tend to stray too far, and stretched too long, it snaps. Especially when you’re the one at the end of the string, holding him down to earth with a promise of a golden ring, always the one waiting for his return. When the blizzards come, the storm arrives, you gripped tighter, but there’s no guarantee that he felt the tug even if he should.

Here lies his expertise on words. Here lies the test of loyalty. Here lie your trust and his devotion. Love is a gamble, isn’t it?

It was supposed to be a surprise :( I wanted to take you there when I come home, but the news spoiled it :( :( Good news is, it’s not fully furnished and we can go furniture shopping… I know you love decorating the house :) I’ll forgive you if you watch the same 5 episodes with me later Babe? :( :( You’re still fetching me at the airport right? Right, sweetie?

He sends a screenshot of his expected arrival time, and you skimmed pass the message with a blank look. You tap the camera icon and took a selfie of your middle finger.

Fish was immediately typing…

OK, but it’s difficult with jeans on.

You gawked as you realized that he was talking about fingering you. You snarled against the screen and tapped video call button.

But it was declined. And he replied immediately.

Can’t. In a crash meeting with the staff.

You put your phone close to your lips and tapped voice recording icon. And Yoongi knows better than to play it in the midst of a meeting. You’re roasting him and for that, he’ll keep for his lullaby on the way to the airport later with his good headphones on. He gave a goofy smile on the screen when you replied with middle-finger emoticons. “God, I love her…” he stares fondly at your ID.

Flight JN1741 from Amsterdam arrives at Incheon International Airport on 2:00 PM. Passengers begin to rise from their seat before the ‘fasten-your-seatbelt’ sign was turned off. Already, Yoongi’s massive entourage are receiving calls within the moving but landed airplane. His staff is dependable but workaholics, like he is. He was just worried that his wife won’t show up because she’s mad. But he’s also certain that she will be there at the arrival. He likes that you make him nervous this way. He likes that he could mean everything to the world, and has his words as law to others, but won’t necessarily have the same effect on you. He loves the fact that you keep him on his toes and make him chase. He also loves the fact that he knows you’ll be waiting at home where he left you as he works.

Loving and having are different things.

Yoongi of all people knows the constraints of having a serious relationship in his hectic life will be hard to manage. When he couldn’t meet his lady love, he relies heavily on her profound loyalty and his blinded trust. God knows that both of you tried. Both of you really tried to keep the passion alive, never to fizzle out. But distance could make or break a relationship--and Yoongi really wanted this. This battleground he chose to live in. He was lucky to have the best of both worlds. Most couldn’t experience that. To him, the game is only over when the other stops playing.

A conversation is a conversation, even if its a fight.

He refastens his black facemask, his black hoodie and stood up as the manager asks him whether he needs a ride home or not. The 40-year-old man walks away once Yoongi said that his wife is fetching him.

“Also, hyung...can you bring the iKey to the Apple Store I bought it in? It had malfunctioned again. I left the warranty card inside the pack,” Yoongi politely asked. “Every single time we leave Amsterdam… Yoongi what did you do with it?” The manager pulls the bag out the compartment above the head. “Work I guess…” Yoongi shrugged and fiddled with the straps of his black backpack.

Most of the passengers had left the airplane. But before Yoongi leaves with his manager, something metallic clinked on his sneakers. His manager crouched down before he did and picked the object up.

“Can’t forget the ring when you’re meeting the wife...take it from me,” his manager returns Yoongi’s ring to him. “It keeps slipping out my finger, I think I’m losing too much weight,” Yoongi chuckled short and put them back on with a small wiggle. “VIP arrivals that way…” His manager pointed the way out, “Tell her we missed her around.”

Yoongi nodded, feeling rather bashful and shy. That’s right. You used to work in his entourage as medical staff. Until he had you hitched and away from the stressful job that costs you your mental health. Now, you review staffs’ health records from home and frequently, his. You fell sick prior to the world tour he led, so that’s why he had you staying home. Not that you tailed him often when he works. He just prefers you doing your own thing. His work requires a lot of movement while you had to be static in one place to finish your writing or reading. You were that hot white coat bearer with a sexy full-rimmed glasses and spoke medicine parseltongue. Every time you share a piece of medical knowledge with him or explain a medical condition, Yoongi drools like a lovesick puppy dog inwardly. He can’t wait to have you explain liver cirrhosis everytime he brings up how much he drank when he was away. That was his version of dirty talk.

But where’s my lady love? Yoongi hums. Scanning the room for any glimpse of you. Could you be standing nearby a coffee vending machine, or would you be in convenient stores searching for a mint? Or are you strolling idly in the expanse of the airport in slow, relaxed strides?

No, you’re walking straight towards him with your arms crossed from the entrance, your hair flew back at every trudge you make to close the distance between him and you. He fumbles with the strap of his bag, and a bit slouched to the side. Having to push his head back to see your face from the beak of his black cap and hoodie, while you draw in, closer and closer.

Your hand came in contact with his at the handle of his roller bag first, before you leaned up to his ear and he lowered himself down, “You and I have a lot of things to talk about.” You snatched the roller bag from his grip roughly and Yoongi watched your back getting smaller and smaller as you stormed away. He pouts at the sight and gripping his bag strap tighter, firmer. You passed an acid glance once and expect him to follow closely with a glare. Yoongi’s pouty lips slowly form a smirk and a naughty cock of his eyebrow. He really enjoys it when you’re angry.

The trunk opens with a hydraulic rise, and he helped you carry his own bag inside. It slammed shut and you dashed to the driver seat, knowing that he is often exhausted after a long flight. Engine purrs on, and your focus was interrupted by the sound of his seatbelt clicking. He’s here. He’s really home.

“Do you want to eat anything? Some fast food or anything like that?” You asked. “Yeah, but she’s driving…” He glanced outside the car window like he had said nothing explicit.

“Ha, very funny…” the car reversed and exited the parking lot with no hiccups, but the situation isn’t going to be smooth on the inside, “Don’t think that snarky remarks will get you anywhere near this coochie.”

Yoongi let out a tiny scoff to the window, shifting in his seat as the view of the city he calls home, come to sight. Miraculously, he has made it home within a month. Although the reunion was bittersweet and that he landed on soil knowing that you’re mad at him, he is well-informed by your passive behavior when you missed him the most. That much is true. And it needs no extra explanation.

How was Amsterdam?

“Cold. Great sound system… decent steak,” he answered. You smiled to yourself, noticing how much you missed his aloof response. Few words, big heart. That’s Min Yoongi for you.

“I think I made a great steak a few days ago…” you took the chance to brag on yourself and Yoongi switches to the side where you sat driving. Hands between his knees, eyes doe and soft.

“Tell me more about what you did…” he said, in a gentle voice.

“Nothing much. I proofread a medical article, cooked for myself, write a bit, stare at the 2 selfies you took last two years. Sniff your hoodie, organize your shoe collection, vacuum GeniusLab2, visit Holly at your parents. I made him this cute ass leash that I knitted on my own. He had stomach flu, so I took him to the vets. He’s okay now, though.”

“I wanted to video call more, but I didn’t have the time…” Yoongi complaints.

“You don’t remember?” You crumpled your face at the road before glancing briefly at him. You could see Yoongi’s confused expression. Head tilted to the side, his mouth opens and closes several times without a word uttered out. He really didn’t remember.

“Baby bear, you called me twice in a drowsy state…” you offered a line of explanation but the contortion on his face suggests that he requires more, “You drunk video call me to tell me you had a sandwich and fell asleep before you could tell me what was inside… Three days after that, you called me again but you were already snoring when I answered.”

“I don’t recall…” he hums.

“Anyways, whatever… that’s cute though. Also, this 3 million villa you bought, what’s the story?” you snapped, at the same time, you turn at the corner of the city smoothly.

“It’s not a penthouse like you said I shouldn’t get, so technically, I didn’t go against your words,” he sang. “How on earth did you carry 3 million in cash?” You scowled. “With many briefcases,” he retorted with a thin smile.

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from laughing because you wanted to be focused on being serious and mature. But the quick reply had you snickering. Such a matter-of-fact answer. His face lights up at your response.

“You said that we’re going to furniture shopping. Do you even have time to do that?” you stopped at the security cottage and flashed your residence card on the pad the divider retracts open.

“I knew you were going to make a dispute out of it. So I made sure Namjoon allows it,” Yoongi laced his fingers together, and made a dark chuckling sound.

“What did you do to him this time…” you felt uneasy already. The last time he wanted a day off, Yoongi hid Namjoon’s passport so the trip could be delayed for a day or two. He purchased a movie on Netflix and wanted to watch it with you.

He simply gave you that creepy smile and you already know.

“You put laxatives in his drinks, my god.” “It is my most brilliant plan of all.” “Yoongi!” “What...he said he was constipating. I am doing him a favor.”

Why wouldn’t he constipate from the amount of caffeine he had been consuming. You thought.

Everyone’s definition of success is different. Everyone’s definition of married life is also different. The married life you shared with Yoongi was entirely on a different level. There are no guidelines for marrying a music producer this world famous. So you focused on being a wife. If everything else in his life isn’t normal, then being married is.

The moment he steps inside the home he shared with you, you noticed he stifled a yawn. His eyes falling droopy at the sight of his long sought after nest.

“I’m going to get a late lunch going, and you can go lay down on the bed in your indoor clothes…” “No, I want to help in the kitchen…” “Look at your eyes, they’re barely open… go rest.”

But he wanted to unpack because he got you something.

“It’s a cross-stitch table runner…” he lays his head on his palm, curled on his side, watching your big grin as you unravel the precious gift. He remembered that you wanted to buy this the last time you were there. He got the correct design and correct color too.

“You got them custom-made,” you gasped excitedly, and then shrink your voice at him, “Thank you...it’s so pretty.” Pulling the runner into a hug while Yoongi chuckles sleepily.

Yoongi was less interested in his stories and more engaged in yours. All his relatives that he can call strangers because they rarely meet, his family members that have seen you more than they’ve seen him. He silently is grateful for you being here, being the glue between his family and close friends, an invincible knot that keeps him grounded and gave him the sense of belonging.

He drifts mid-through your stories and latest gossip. As you sat on the floor next to the bed, unpacking his luggage one-by-one, you no longer hear his response. You glanced to the side and saw him sleeping soundly. You could only imagine how many hours he could when he’s away in a foreign country. Yoongi somehow can appear to be sleeping but is in fact, listening to all the conversations surrounding him. You and he share that talent. But this time, he slept for real--the energy replenishing, body rejuvenating sleep. There’s soft snorings and little shudders from time to time. Your gaze fell from his fringes to his brows, down the slope of his nose and his doll-like lips.

Last clothing to be unpack looked familiar. It was yours. That’s endearing. He always packs one clothing that belonged to you. You know, for when he ‘misses his wife so much he could die’ moments. You don’t know when he snuck them in, but it’s probably when you’re busy at the living room, or the bathroom, making sure he didn’t forget anything. The luggage is taken away from the bedroom and into his home studio, where it stays until its service is required again--which you suspect, won’t be long.

You slid the blanket above his shoulder, and tuck him in like you would a child. He looks so tired and it breaks your heart that he has to leave again. It’s like a cycle. At least you can see him eat today, with your own eyes, so let’s get started with the lunch.

Nothing extravagant. Just broiled spinach, fermented white baby radish from last week, and warm chicken soup with ginseng to help him re-energized. But he isn’t awake yet. That’s alright, you can reheat everything when he’s up. He still needs his much-acquired sleep. With that thought, you disappear into the bathroom and undressed. Sweating from cooking, body sticky with remnants of watery expels urged you to shower before the sun is completely down. You don’t usually shower this early, but with Yoongi around, you felt self-conscious. He doesn’t know this, but you will always want to smell nice for him. Isn’t that the very core of being a wife? Being extra hygienic for the hubby? To keep him interested? Especially Yoongi, because he is constantly away and accompanied by many attractive females?

You discarded the dampened shirt outside the door of the bathroom and swung it shut as gently as you can. Off goes the bra, then the panties. The shower head expels drizzling liquid, the steam floats up to the ceiling and the glass door get fogged up from the heat. Water pools at your feet as you readied your face underneath the shower to come into contact with the sprinkles. The pleasure of a simple shower after a good sweat is ultimately unmatched.

So endorsed in your time alone, Yoongi pushes the door wider. He had come awake when he heard you turned the knob shut. He discarded his pants on the way, and pulled his black shirt over his head, charging forward like a soldier on his way to a battleground he intends to win. Then he discarded his last piece of clothing, his boxers. Afterward, he trudges into the shower cubicle where you were standing, facing away from him. “You thought I was too tired for a shower session with you?” His voice deeps lower than usual, as he snakes one arm around your naked waist, skin to skin, Yoongi sunk his teeth on your shoulder and you turned around wearing a big smile to greet him. “No I thought you wouldn’t be able to handle any sessions with me…” you smartly replied. Yoongi smiled into the kiss that began innocently enough and gradually increase in intensity and power as the seconds passed. Your arms slick against his shoulder as he held on palm flat on the walls of the shower, he stands directly underneath the shower head now--refusing to let go of your lips even when you tap out for a breath. A seasoned rapper’s lung capacity isn’t a shy away from a Navy diver. Provided with the long abstinence and accumulating want, Yoongi isn’t just going to stop here in the shower, best believe, he is going to continue making love to you in all the rooms available in this house until he’s finally sated.

His handprints on the fogged glass door is significantly larger than yours. The slippery sound of sliding skin filled your ears, and your strangled moans could only suggest an impending euphoric sensation you had longed for, since the last time he’s here. And Yoongi is a determined soul. The thrusts are languid and deep. From the way he buried his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting heavy desperate pants implies that he had been imagining this on his lonely nights for too long. His touches were too precise and calculated, coming from a veteran lover who knows his wife’s body like the back of his hand. Yoongi’s glazed orbs that greeted you in the midst of the steamy love-making, felt foreign yet familiar. But his lips that conquered yours right after the heaty glance was definitely, without a doubt, Yoongi’s. The time apart had made him a stranger to your body, and the passion that almost fizzled out from the distance had reignited to another degree.

“Fuck I miss you,” he breathlessly says against your ear. You didn’t stutter or faltered back into the lust like you used to when you first dated him. Instead, you smiled into his confessions and bit your grin--no longer shy to show how much you love having these moments with him. More, you encouraged him with your touches and sweet mewls.

I like the whispers you added at the end. She says.

No matter what the public critic might say, Yoongi’s only verdict comes from his wife. His true achievements and outcomes of his work rely heavily on what you may say. But your words can be sarcastic and Yoongi doesn’t like having to guess what you truly meant.

“You always say something like that…” “I don’t know what you want me to say,” you shrugged as you scooped out a bowl of rice for him, “I like the whisper part and that’s the truth.” “How many times did you listen to it… be honest,” Yoongi took his bowl from you.

You tipped your eyes up to the ceiling and clicked your tongue. Somehow Yoongi caught the expression.

“Are you serious…” he began, eyes following you as you pulled the chair next to him out, “Okay, fine. Do you listen more of Jimin’s Promise or my collab song?”

You added a long hum, not intending to give him the answer he wants to hear. “Technically, Jimin’s Promise came out first--”

“--don’t talk to me,” he darted.

Instinctively, you covered his knee with one palm, to soothe him. But of course, Yoongi wouldn’t let you console him that quickly.

“I spent nights writing that song while touring… Am I asking too much of you, to just listen to me more than you do Jimin’s, but no. Ultimately, I’m always the second choice for the industry AND my wife. Fine, I don’t care...I don’t want to care anymore. I worked so hard to earn money for you to spend, and all I’m requesting is that you be my harsh critic but you’re apparently too busy to listen to my songs. Hmm, I see how it is.”

“To even things out, you never told me you’re releasing a song…” you shrugged.

Yoongi set his chopstick down, clinking while you continued eating.

“To top it all, you watched dramas without me,” he tipped a glass of water into his mouth like he would a cup of soju, “Our drama.”

You knew he is just picking fights with you because to him, a fight is also a conversation.

“Gosh Alexa, this is so sad, play Seesaw,” you exclaimed with a forlorn sigh, “What do you propose I do? Wait for you until you come back? The second season would have begun by the time you returned, Yoongi… You have cities to tour, fans to meet and stages to check, and what about me? I have this house, Netflix and the chili plant outside. You’re being a little mean to me right now… my priorities aren’t always you, you know.”

Yoongi was deafened by the last sentence you said, that he couldn’t hear the rest of the off-topic conversations you promptly added after it. You didn’t seem to notice that you’ve hurt him. That’s the inspiration behind his rap verse ‘my razor tongue wife with a stone in her hand’. He likes that you’re honest and has trained you to be tougher, but the blade he sharpens strikes him once in a while when needed. He doesn’t apologize, he makes amends with his actions. He tries to be ultimately present when he’s here. When he’s home.

Like now, he sat on the floor, with a writing pad while you washed dishes.

“Turmeric powder. Can you check if it’s on the grocery list?” You raised your voice a little so he could hear from the living room. He puffed his cheeks with his cap turned backward, scanning down the awfully long list of things you needed to get for the family dinner this weekend.

“Nope,” he writes them scraggly underneath your neat writing. Then he heard you listed a number of things and gifts you planned to get before the weekend comes. Presents for your parents, and his; his nephews, his older brother’s birthday that he himself didn’t remember, a flower bouquet for his aunt who just opened a restaurant. He made a mental note to transfer a large amount of money into your account later.

“Is the villa far from here?” you asked him, wiping your kitchen stove down, spotless. “Not very… you’ll see when you drive there later,” Yoongi murmured to his chest, filling colors on the heart he drew on the grocery list, next to “Yoongi’s wife grocery list”.

“Also, I wanted to get grilled beef slices in that restaurant…” Yoongi promised to take you to the restaurant you had been wanting to go to, in two days time. Until a message from his manager came.

“...it would taste so damn good…” your mouth waters at the thought of it but when you looked across the counter at Yoongi perplexed gaze sitting on the floor there in the living room, you somehow caught what he didn’t, or rather--couldn’t say. That look could only mean one thing.

That the luggage you pushed into his studio is going to get another traveling sticker. That the restaurant trip is not going to happen. That you will be strolling aimlessly in this huge house. That you will be visiting the villa he bought alone. That your wedding picture and ring will be the only proof that you’re somehow married.

To the worldly loved, worldly known...the beautiful tragic, Min Yoongi.

Because he couldn’t keep his promise, you had him doing something similar to it. Peeking at his bobbing head, through your iPad playing Candy Crush, you smiled to yourself.

“Make sure you get all my toenails trimmed and neatened,” Yoongi lifts his head up short, sitting on the floor, with your heel digging onto his thigh as he nodded. “What color do you want for the polish?” He asked, getting cross-eyed as he hones the sharp edges of your nail, shorter.

“Your hair color right now…” “Babe, this is out of context…but” he dragged, “remember the voice note you sent me during the crash meeting with the staff?”

“The one I cursed at you? Yeah...why?” “It turns me on,” He hides his smile by lowering his face from you. What a strange yet tantalizing thought.

[babyboy-cody]

hiya if your still doing your promt list, i was wondering if you could do a 3 in one for Duncan. I know it's a lot to ask, but I think it would be funny! But it's all up to you my lady so the numbers are 24,31, and 51! OK BYE ALSO I LOVE YOUR BLOG !!!

A/N: AAWW THANK YOU BABES ❤️❤️ and i don’t mind a lot of prompts,,,i love them sm. i made this a little longer than usual OOPS but i hope you love it!!

Duncan/Fem!Reader

24) Chin up, princess, or the crown slips.

31) Life is not a fairytale. If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.

51) This stops now.

WARNINGS: slight angst, brief sadness, fluffy ending

“Are you coming tonight? I heard you bought two tickets. One for you, obviously. And I suppose the other is for your mystery man,” Duncan says into his phone, a wide smile spreading as he hears your angelic laugh on the other line.

“Yes, you big oaf. I live up to my promise,” you grin and laugh softly. “I’m excited for you to meet him. My best friend and my potential boyfriend finally seeing each other.”

“Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. I’ve only seen him through the media. And from what you’ve told me, he seems really…nice,” Duncan says with slight hesitation.

The truth is, Duncan despises Carter Bailey. The arrogant blonde tool has always tried to one up Duncan ever since his app has been the new “thing” in the industry. He just hopes Carter isn’t what he seems.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay? I’ll be surprising you with my dashing looks,” you say with a blushing smile as you hear Duncan chuckle deeply.

“Don’t you always,” he tells you and hangs up.

The night finally came for the banquet Duncan’s mother is throwing. It’s an annual event that occurs to say a speech about the country and the ways it’s improving over the past few months. You always dreaded the after parties when you have to mingle with snotty rich people who frown upon you for being lower class. But you always go to them for Duncan. You know how uncomfortable it can be to always greet people he doesn’t know and fill them in on his work.

You fix the velvet dress that hugs your curves perfectly and slips on your sheer shawl that loosely hangs around your back and around your arms. You grab her clutch and walk down the steps to meet Carter. He’s standing on the porch with a look of disdain on his face as he pokes at the paint chippings of her door.

“Ready?” You ask him with a smile.

He barely glances your way and takes your hand. You both get inside the large white limousine. The partition in the vehicle was rolled up, and you try to swallow down your growing nerves.

“Do you like my dress?” You asked Carter. “Duncan bought it for me on my 22nd birthday.”

“Mhm, it looks nice,” he tells you withtout looking up from his phone, fingers furiously tapping on the screen.

Your smile falters. You turns in your seat to look out the window. You let out a shaky sigh and drum your well manicured nails on your exposed knees. The drive to the banquet hall was an agonizingly long 45 minutes. Carter barely spoke to you, and when he did, his words were usually short and bland. Your heart leaped out of your chest as the limo slowed to a stop in front of the entrance. Paparazzi hung around, all shouting and clicking their cameras. Carter exited first and held out his hand to you, his charming smile suddenly onto his lips.

It’s all for show.

You give him a small smile and move closer to his side. Carter places his hand at the dip of your exposed back and led you inside. Your eyes were briefly blinded by the constant flashes from the cameras in your face. When you both entered, you were immediately met with the sounds of classical music and light chatters. The marble structures and paintings were exceptionally exquisite. The details of every curvature made you gasp in awe. Carter pushes you forward, and you both walk to your assigned table. You took a seat first without Carter sliding your chair out, as a gentleman would; as Duncan would.

“Can you–”

“I’ll be right back,” Carter tells you and hurriedly walks away to envelope a woman, whom you’ve never seen before, in his arms.

You feel your heart break just a bit. But that all goes away when you feel those familiar hands on your bare shoulders, palms and fingers rough and warm.

“It’s about damn time you showed up,” Duncan tells you and takes a seat in Carter’s spot. “I was about to lose my damn mind.”

You let out a soft giggle and lowered your head slightly, a strand of hair falling across your cheekbone. Duncan quickly swoops in to tuck it back behind your ear, his fingers lightly brushing across your glowing skin.

“You look…incredibly,” he quietly tells you. “Like a princess fit for her crown.”

“Shut up,” you giggle quietly and look over at him, a warm blush coating your cheeks. “You look devastatingly handsome as always.”

Duncan’s dressed in his fitting black dress shirt, the buttons closed up to his neck with his collar neat and straight, not one wrinkle in sight. His hair is in its usual sleek swoop, no strand of hair out of place. He looks like a dark prince.

“So, where is your mystery man?” Duncan questions and looks around the crowded hall.

“He’s…” you look around as your shoulders slump. “Somewhere.”

Duncan hums and sends you a look as he takes a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. Suddenly, his jaw tenses as he looks behind your shoulder. You feel a hand rest on her shoulder. She fights to recoil from the touch, as it’s too soft and too cold for her skin.

“Shepherd,” Carter says with his usual smirk.

“Bailey,” Duncan says with no smirk. “Hope you’re treating my girl with the respect she deserves.”

“Your girl?” Carter laughs. “Looks like she’s not yours anymore, Shepherd.”

You squirm in your seat uncomfortably as both men enter a stare down. Duncan stands from his seat, hand wrapped too tightly around his glass. He breaks the stare at looks down at you with a soft smile. He glares at Carter one last time before walking away. Carter scoffs and takes his assigned seat.

“I can’t believe you’re friends with that douchebag,” Carter spits out with disgust. “You and him clearly don’t go together.”

The laugh he lets out is condescending as he takes a sip of his own whiskey. The way he drinks it made your lips curl slightly in distaste. It’s so uncoordinated. When Duncan drinks, it’s like a slow dance. His lips would curl around the edge, tongue peeking out just enough. His eyes would close as his head tilts back, the hot whiskey sliding down his throat.

“Y/N,” you feel a hand shaking you from your thoughts. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Um, no,” your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

Carter scoffs and rolls his eyes. He mumbles intangibly and quiets down when everyone begins to go to their own seats. The lights dimmed and the spotlights are turned onto the stage that contains a glass podium. It’s time for the annual speech.

Time has ticked by agonizingly slow. You tried to make conversation with Carter, but all you get is a glare or a harsh hush. You leaned against your chair and crossed her legs, desperately wanting to see Duncan. Carter suddenly looks over your shoulder, his eyes widening slightly as he bites his bottom lip.

“I’ll be right back,” he halfheartedly tells you and leaps up from his seat without drawing any attention.

Your brows furrow with confusion. You look over her shoulder and see Carter disappearing around the corner in a hurry. You assumed he needed to use the bathroom and thought nothing of it. But when the speech ends and a round of applause fills the room, you get up from her seat carefully and made your way to the bathroom. You walk down the long hallway, your heels clicking against the marbled floor. When you turned the corner, you pushed the bathroom door open and let out a loud gasp. But you soon realize that the two people didn’t hear you over their hushed moans and low grunts.

It’s Carter and that woman from earlier. And by the looks of it, they seem really happy with each other. You move back slowly and slip out the door without them noticing. You couldn’t stop the heavy feeling of your heart sinking into the pit of your stomach: it’s painful and punches through. You couldn’t stop the trembling in your lips or the burning tears in your eyes. You made your way around back into the garden where no one ever bothers to see. You walk down the steps and take a seat at the large angel fountain. You sniffle and wipe your tears away, shaking your head at herself for getting hurt over Carter, of all people.

“Stupid,” your whispered to yourself as a new wave of tears rolls down your flushed cheeks. “Stupid.”

“I second guess that,” your hear from a distance.

You don’t bother to look up when you hear his footsteps crunching into the rocks, followed by the munch of soft grass under his heels. Duncan takes a seat on the stone bench and nudges your shoulder with his.

“Chin up, princess, or the crown slips,” he tells you.

You let out a soft laugh and sniffled again. You wiped under your eyes with your back knuckles and sigh softly.

“I know what happened. You don’t have to explain it to me,” Duncan quietly says to you. “I saw them sneak out.”

You stay quiet and stare down at your hands. Duncan looks over at you and brings your hand into his. His thumb strokes over the delicate bones of your knuckles.

“I always thought my life would be like a fairytale. I’d get swept off my feet by some charming prince and we’d ride away into the sunset. I figured I’d lose a shoe at midnight or something so he can be desperate to find me again,” You say and lean your head on his shoulder.

“Life is not a fairytale. If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk,” Duncan says seriously.

That makes you laugh louder than the last. Duncan couldn’t help the grin form on his lips at the sweet sound filling his ears. You picked your head up and look over at him, your own grin spreading on your ruby lips. Duncan looks at them for a brief second before gazing into your sparkly eyes.

“You deserve better, if not more,” he sincerely tells you. “You don’t need to have such a perfect life. I mean, look at me. Am I perfect?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation, your smile never faltering as Duncan rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, Dunc. You’re perfect. And I’m…not.”

“Who said that?” He asks you.

“Everyone. And what they say is true. I’m not cut out for this. I can’t afford certain things, I live in a goddamn one story house. I can’t even leave without there being a breaking and entering in my neighborhood. I’m nothing compared to you,” You confesse, a fresh wave of tears forming in your eyes.

“This stops now,” he sternly tells you, large hands grabbing your cheeks to look into your beautifully teary eyes. “You are more than perfect, Y/N Y/L/N. There’s not enough words to describe how perfect you are to me.”

You release a shaky exhale and stare deep into Duncan’s ocean eyes. You don’t see an ounce of dishonesty. Your heart stutters as a heat forms on your cheeks under his large palms.

“Do you mean that?” You asked, your voice small and hesitant.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He asks you, brows furrowing as his thumb wipe away your warm tears. “I mean everything I say, Y/N. I love you.”

Your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach. Your eyes widen for a brief moment and you wait for Duncan to catch himself from his words. But he doesn’t. He stays still with his eyes locked on yours. Is this a dream? Is this really happening? This can’t be real.

“I love you too, Duncan,” you whisper and rest your forehead on his, hands gently holding his wrists. “Thank you for this.”

“For what?” He whispers, eyes closed as he breathes in the sweet scent of you.

“For being there,” You tell him softly.

“Always,” he says.