#weird hearing someones normal voice and to see them so casual

[twistedlovelines]

(Formerly from @/luna-the-moth)

Nicknames that would fluster the TWST boys most <3 (Riddle, Deuce, Azul, Malleus) Gn! Reader, SFW

Thank you for sending this in, nonnie!

Riddle is such a romantic at heart…the classics are near and dear to his heart. Time worn they may be, they are as lovely as ever when spoken from your lips. 

Darling 

(A classic! While it can be spoken with condescension, the fact that you speak it with consideration every time it passes through your lips will never cease to pause him right in his tracks.)

Sweetheart 

(He’s not used to being referred to as “sweet.” By his mother, or even by his fellow students. To know that you see him as someone “sweet,” deserving of kindness and love, , , whose heart hasn’t been fully shrouded by the thorns he has been forced to hold close to his chest , , , it makes him feel soft.) 

My Love 

(particularly if crooned into his ear. Very effective if you’re asking him for something. The possession, the devotion that comes with the nickname makes his heart beat quicker than the White Rabbit’s footsteps.)

Deuce is used to being called every nickname under the sun- mackerel, loser, minion, and countless more during his delinquent years. He’s been called “lovey” ones too, but never without sarcasm or scorn unless he was speaking to his mother. The first time you call him by a nickname (with kindness), he’s speechless.  

Baby

(Oh he’s melting as soon as he hears it. He’s used to being someone who’s more of an aggressor, and hearing himself be called baby sweeps that all away and reduces him to nothing more than a lovestruck boy. It’s such a tender, loving thing to be called and he wants to memorize the way your voice says it immediately. 

Puppy

(When he first hears this, he’s confused. Puppy? Do you see him as a puppy? Something cute and harmless?? Upon clarification, he feels heat rush to his cheeks. Having you explain that it means you’re fond of him, that you want to take care of him and cherish him , , , he’s short-circuiting the second it processes. 

Angel

(Might start tearing up if you call him this during a tender moment. He’s tried so hard to be good and grow from his past self , ,, to hear that you believe he’s an angel, a being known for being pure and kind; a guardian rather than an attacker , , , it makes him feel incredibly validated and he WILL be cuddly afterwards). 

Azul isn't used to being called nicknames without a bit of ulterior motive...to hear you speak them honestly and without reservation is terrible for his poor heart...

Babe 

(Azul is anything but casual. Calculated, purposeful, whatever you wish to call it. He’s used to calling clients “my dear,” or “my friend-” terms of endearment that are meant to sweeten and tie the deal. To hear you call him babe as if it’s simply a nickname, nothing more…it soothes any of his anxieties regarding your relationship instantly.)

Lovely

(He finds himself waiting a beat too long to respond, having expected you to say his name. When you don’t, he finds himself smiling a bit too smugly than what would be deemed normal. Who wouldn’t be, after their partner referred to them by “Lovely?” It’s not until later when he’s alone that he truly lets it sink in how much the nickname means to him. Lovely. You directly called him lovely. Not just described him as Lovely but you think he himself is Lovely. Oh.) 

My Heart

(Azul has a weird fixation on hearts. Assuming that you are a person whose species has only one heart, it makes him possessive. As an octopus mer, he has three hearts. All of which belong to you, mind. But knowing that he is your sole heart, your only love…it makes him smitten.)

Malleus is used to reading terms of endearment in storybooks and fairy tales, having fantasized about hearing them fall from his lover's lips from a young age. His imagination doesn't even compare to the real thing.

Mal (Spanish meaning of the word aside)

(He’s already unused to hearing someone speak his name without any titles or fanfare- you calling him a shortened version of his name catches him off guard in the most pleasant way. It’s intimate in a way “Malleus” isn’t. It’s familiar, comfortable in the way your eyes shine when you say it, devoid of fear or apprehension.) 

Dearest

(He’s possessive. You’re his first true friend and first lover. He knows you have other friends- Grim, the Adeuce trio, and so on and so forth. But to know that he is the one held closest to your heart as you are in his makes him nearly purr in delight. He’ll grin at that, a faint dusting of pink settling upon his cheeks.)

My Love

(Similar to “Dearest,” “My Love” is incredibly sweet to him. He’s read it in story books, after the knight has rescued the princess and they are to be wed. To know that he, a dragon and prince, has been deemed the love of his dear knight…he’ll want to be as close to you as physically possible for the rest of the day/night, already dreaming of how you would look in white…)

a/n: Please feel free to send in more requests, granted that you follow my rules and have looked over my masterpost! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

[teaboot]

While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!Reader [1.2K]

“Good afternoon, Family Video, Steve speaking,” Steve tried not to yawn his greeting down the receiver, the plastic wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he skimmed through a copy of Kerrang!

Hopper’s voice came through a little staticky, a fuzziness to his words but the boy heard them loud and clear. 

“Hey kid, you able to come ‘round the station?”

Steve dropped the magazine, gaze flickering to Robin who was watching him with furrowed brows. He stood up a little straighter and gripped the phone a little tighter. 

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Is someone hurt—?”

Hop let out a huff and a sigh that sounded like a laugh and the tension left Steve’s shoulders, if only a little. “No, no, sorry, nothin’ like that - didn’t mean to panic you,” Hopper spoke quickly. “We, uh, we’ve got your friend here.”

The more confused Steve got, the closer Robin became, until the receiver was eventually pressed between the two of them. “Eddie?” she asked, because really, who else was it going to be?

Another laughter came from the line. “Shockingly, no. Another delinquent — this one is smaller, wears even more black and belongs solely to Steve.”

The boy sighed and rubbed at his eyes, trying to ignore the way Robin snorted as she left to collect the stack of videos she’d abandoned. 

“I’m on my way.”

—————

“A knife?” Steve whisper yelled, eyes wide and leaning over Hopper’s desk. “What?”

The older man shrugged, way too casually for the context of the conversation. “It was only a small one,” Hopper took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and gestured behind him to the window that gave a view to a locked waiting room. “Besides, that Carver kid is a real asshole, you know. I had to bring her in ‘cause I had a rookie in training with me. Setting an example and all that.”

Steve sighed and swiped a hand through his hair, peering through the window at you. You were sitting cross legged on a chair, the dull lighting making you look gloomier than normal and Steve could see the glint of your switchblade still tucked into one sock. He caught your eye and you almost smiled, that lift of the corner of your lips that he knew so well. 

You raised one hand, fingers wiggling. You looked far too pleased with yourself. 

“You didn’t book her, right?” 

Hop snorted and shook his head, throwing some paperwork into an unorganised drawer and he looked at the boy with an offended expression. “Of course I didn’t, c’mon.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at you. “She’s a little weird and I don’t normally condone knife crimes in this town but she’s your girl, right?”

Steve turned a little pink, unable to help himself. He nodded, eyes still on you. 

“Then she’s part of the family,” the chief replied and it sounded firm and official, like there was no argument necessary. “I don’t arrest family.”

“You put Mike in handcuffs that one time,” Steve reminded him, but Hopper was already unlocking the door and waving you forward. 

“That was a necessary means to an end,” Hopper grimaced, he turned to you and gestured to your black dress, the black shirt you wore underneath, the black boots that gave you an extra two inches of height. “c’mon, Elvira, your ride’s here.”

You were already walking towards the two men, your gaze set on Steve and that same almost smile on your lips. To a stranger, you looked entirely unimpressed, but Steve knew better. You looked smug. 

“Hey old timer,” Steve greeted you with fingers catching your chin, doing his best to not grin at you. “Knife crimes, huh? You after a blood sacrifice or somethin’?”

“Don’t be silly,” you said sullenly, waving to Hopper as he opened the front door of the station for you both. “It’s not even a full moon, Steven.”

The older man snorted at your words and Steve turned to glare at him. “Yeah, good luck with that,” Hop told the boy before pointing at you one last time, “and you: no more threatening people with pointy things, you got it?”

You made the motion of a cross over your heart before you gave the man a small salute, a scouts honour that Steve rolled his eyes at because he knew damn well it was a lie. 

Steve caught you by his car before you could clamber in, pinning you between the closed door and his body, sighing heavily as he cupped your face in his hands. He was warm and smelled as good as he always did, like expensive cologne and mint and Steve. 

“What am I going to do with you?” He mused softly and you let him push at your cheeks, gentle and fond until your lips squished into a pout and he pressed a quick kiss there. “Is this like a twelve step process to becoming an actual crime lord?”

“You act like I’m not already comfortably on step nine,” you quipped back. 

Steve snorted, pressing another kiss to your cheek, your jaw and your neck, simply ‘cause you were letting him. “Oh yeah? What’s the next step?”

“World domination,” you told him, a hand pushed up the inside of his jacket, palm seeking out the comfort the warmth of his skin brought you — not that you’d admit it. “Naturally.”

Steve hummed, pulling back to nudge his nose against your own. “Naturally,” he agreed. “Threatening Jason Carver with a knife to taking over the world seems like a rather large leap.”

Your eyes glittered and you brushed your lips against the boy’s when you spoke. “I have big shoes,” you whispered. 

 “What happened?” Steve sounded more serious now, but he didn’t pull away. He knew what happened when he did, you’d find the space to break away and run, figuratively, of course. Although Steve wouldn’t put it past you to actually take off across town. “What’d he say?”

You were still in his arms when you replied, hand pressed to his side and if you were still enough, you could feel the thumpthumpthump of his heartbeat vibrating through his ribs. It was nice.

You picked a freckle on his cheek to look at, expression neutral and gaze lowered as you explained. 

“He was talking about you,” you said it so simply, so matter of fact and Steve sighed. He didn’t want you getting in trouble because of him. But you kept talking. “And he was saying things that weren’t very nice and they definitely weren’t true.”

“Sweetheart, guys like Carver are always gonna talk sh—”

You pressed closer, chin resting on his chest so you could look up at the boy from behind dark kohl and darker lashes. “I told him to shut up.”

Steve blinked down at you. 

“He didn’t listen.”

Steve’s lip twitched. “How stupid of him.”

“That’s what I said,” you murmured, giving him that same almost smile that was just for him. You leaned up, pushed onto your toes to gift the boy a rare, public kiss. It was quick and soft and it caught his bottom lip in the most lovely way. “So I showed him my knife.”

[totallynotlx]

Benefactor

A/N: In honor of my precious, beloved boys. You both deserved the world but they did you so wrong. Also yes, I hurt myself writing this thankssssss

Tags: Dad!Gojo Agenda, a bit of fluff I guess?, Hurt / No Comfort coz I am hurting rn

Word Count: 745

Benefactor 

It's the word that Megumi would always associate Gojo with. He wasn't particularly fond of the man, but he doesn't despise him either... not always anyway. He owes him that much, at least. The man had no business adopting two kids when he was just sixteen. But he did it. Sure, he wasn't the perfect role model, but he remembers how much he cared for them. 

He made the effort to celebrate his and Tsumiki's birthdays the first year he took them in. Christmas was extravagant, too. That's where Megumi discovered his disgusting addiction to sweets. The table was full of it. Some of which he and Tsumiki haven't tried before. Tsumiki was ecstatic, with bits of icing on her cheek as she ate, while Megumi was more content with the peppermint candy canes. He also made sure they had presents. 

When school came around, Gojo took care of everything. He was still too young to enter Jujutsu High, so he ensured they had a proper education. He made sure they had everything, from their needs to their wants. 

"He's weird. But he's not a bad adult." He remembers Tsumiki's words all those years ago after Gojo took them in. Megumi would argue that she shouldn't be too trusting since it may still be a political ploy, but it never happened. 

Gojo genuinely did care for them. He made Tsumiki laugh. When he found out they comforted him, he gave Megumi stuffed animals that resembled his curse techniques. He vaguely remembers him tucking them both to bed when they fell asleep on the couch. He made sure they had a roof over their heads. He ensured Megumi pursued his other interests that didn't revolve around jujutsu sorcery. And even though Megumi was mature for his age, he tried his best to give him a sense of a normal childhood. Even when he became such a rebellious teen, Gojo was there, always patient with the same stupid grin. He didn't reprimand him as Tsumiki did, but he tried to guide him in his own way. The training sessions would be longer, harder even, but he never shouted at him, was never mad at him, or was never frustrated with him. 

"You have the potential to be on par with me, Megumi." Gojo's words echoed in his mind, crystal clear. "So you gotta keep a level head."

Thoughts began to swirl endlessly in his clouded mind as the memory faded. It was like almost seeing a ghost, always flitting through, never materializing. Images came and went like his own shallow breathing. It was getting harder to breathe. His chest felt like it was getting constricted by some unknown force, and he felt hot all over.

He recognizes the sensation. Pain. 

Subconsciously, Megumi grits his teeth, his nails digging into the inside of his palm. The dull sensation becomes more and more apparent with each second. His head was throbbing, and his vision blurred for a moment.

Take a good look, brat.

The voice that invaded his mind was unwelcome and brash. Slowly, the darkness morphs into a blurry scenery, like his eyes are camera lenses trying to focus on a subject. And that subject is at his feet.

He can make out the gray concrete now, rough and cracked as someone laid down on it. 

Why is someone lying on the concrete?

Megumi hears a sharp intake of breath, eyes trying their best to focus on the source of the sound. Red liquid pooled on the ground. Blood. That's when he notices a familiar white tousled hair. Albeit he doesn't see it often, he grew up seeing him casually wearing his hair down around both of them siblings. His senses were sharper now. His vision finally focuses on the figure on the ground.

Benefactor. 

It's that one word that Megumi would always use to describe Gojo to everyone if asked about their relationship. But right now, he can barely remember the word.

"Gojo-sensei..?" His words were a mere whisper. Gojo only blinks away the tears in his eyes in response, eyes slowly losing their luminescent blue luster. Warm streaks drip down from Megumi's eyes. Tears. 

"Dad?" 

A faint smile appears on Gojo's lips, and with one final blink, he loses the life behind those signature blue eyes of his, and silence descends upon them both. It was a grief so great that Megumi could only stand there in silence, mourning the only father he ever knew.

Inspired by this tweet that shared this very hurtful tiktok :')

[softpascalito]

We got your back - Chapter 4

Summary: You work as a new DEA agent alongside Peña and Murphy. A not-so-kind colleague reveals more about you than you would like. You also realize you can sleep better if you're not by yourself. You're not the only one with that realization.

Relationships: Javier Peña x F!Reader

WC: 10k+

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, mention of canon-typical violence, family issues, they arent specified but reader is implied to be from a dysfunctional family, literal sleeping together, one bed trope if you squint, tac vest javi, nightmares, cuddling, protective javier peña, mention of drugs

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist

notes: we are back! sorry this took me so long, i started into the year super positive and motivated but then my best friend decided to fucking die so life hasn't been very slay. i hope you babes are doing better and enjoy the chapter <3

(i cope with humor, can you tell?)

Chapter 4

“She could no longer think, nor were there any more images in her head. She was aware only of the softness of the woollen bathrobe next to her skin, and then of the nearness and warmth of a being that did not frighten her.”

- Paul Bowles, The Sheltering Sky

You have the first good day in weeks. Apart from the nagging feeling that you now have something else to hide - at least from Steve and the rest of your colleagues - you do feel well rested, getting through the assigned files and some more intel with record speed.

One of the higher-ups is celebrating a milestone birthday and orders dinner, causing more people than usual to stay late. Javi finds you in the crammed room where the plates of food have been set up and squeezes in next to you, flashing his signature charming smile, “May I?”

“Yeah, sure,” you mumble back, shifting slightly to give him more space. But with how full all the tables are, the people are a good excuse to let yourself get a little closer than you normally would. Somehow, it doesn’t feel weird, the way it likely would’ve before last night. It just feels safe.

You eat your dinner without speaking much, Javi practically wolfing his down. A frown spreads over your face at that, “You got plans after this?”

“Are you asking me out, querida?” Javi responds in between two bites, flirting so casually that it almost seems like second nature to him. Which according to the testimony of at least three women you know in the embassy, is exactly that. 

He cocks his brow as he turns towards you and for a split second, he looks serious, like he means it. The thought has you blushing furiously and you think you just may choke on a piece of your pasta when the familiar grin spreads over his face and with it, a similarly familiar warmth settles in your stomach. “I was just joking,” he reassures you again at seeing your cheeks change color and clears his throat before getting a little more serious.

“Wanted to go through some more files, not like this lot will get anything done tonight.” He nods towards the group of people gathered around the man who is apparently celebrating. They’ve finally opened up the first bottle of Aguardiente.

Of course, Javi knows that with the steadily rising alcohol level, he may just be able to persuade someone into giving him access to precisely the file he wants. Or at least provide enough distraction for him to sneak off and find it himself.

He can still hear Steve in the back of his mind, reasoning with him.

“Have you ever considered that the files are sealed because she wants them to be?”

He has, now. But he finds that he doesn’t really care. There is something there, something that might explain you to him a little more. A tiny voice in his head offers up the idea of just asking you, getting to know you like everyone else does.

But he quickly shakes that thought off. It’s nothing to him, personally at least. His interest is strictly professional of course. Nothing else.

Just as the first people start clearing out, Javi slips away too. You strain your neck, glancing around the room and towards the buffet but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Great,” you mumble to yourself as you follow suit and leave the table, heading out of the large oak doors of the conference room. A pit has formed in your stomach and it only deepens when you catch a glimpse of the time. It’s past nine already so chances are Javier really has headed off to meet some informant. You try not to consider who else he could be meeting and who else may wake up next to him in the morning.

Passing through the dimly lit corridors that lead to the DEA offices, you let out a small noise of annoyance with yourself.

It’s not like it’s any of your business what Javi does after closing time or who he meets. And it’s not really like you to judge him for it.

But today, you realize quietly, your disappointment stems from the pit in your stomach at the thought of having to go home to the apartment you’d rather forget and to spend a few hours tossing and turning on a mattress until it’s time to come back.

You haven’t met a single person on your way back to your office and you consider curling up next to your desk again. A glance around the office tells you that you’re not in luck, though. A few other co-workers still have their bags and jackets draped over chairs and desks and some will no doubt return to get them once they’re done eating. Javi finding you was one thing but they would be something else.

It takes a few seconds until the solution hits you and you take off past the open plan office and towards the smaller adjacent rooms in the back. The crammed file room that you’ve spent the last night in is sitting in darkness, the blinds almost completely closed. You decide against turning on the big light and simply make your way through the room- which is barely a few steps.

The orange glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds is enough to let your hands find the couch in the corner and you settle onto it with a small sigh, content to just be still for a moment. It’s a little eerie, especially since you’re not sure if anyone other than Peña and Murphy frequents the space. But the sounds that do drift to you are low and distant, nothing more than a couple of cars honking a few blocks away and a dog barking somewhere in the distance.

You draw your legs up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around them for the lack of actual bedding and lean back, closing your eyes.

It doesn’t become apparent to you that you’ve passed out until you wake with a start. You’re semi-aware of something above you and you squint into the darkness of the room. You can’t see his face but there is the voice you know all too well.

“That you, cariño?” Javi mutters, already a blanket in hand that he nudges against you. It takes you a few more seconds to find your voice, bringing a hand up to rub your eyes, “Thought you left.”

“I came back. Here, go back to sleep. I’ll stay.”

You’re too tired to fight him, to put up any kind of resistance against making this a habit, to bring up that this is a bad idea, for the sake of both of you. The blanket warms you up so quickly, even more so with the way Javier’s body slowly comes to rest beside you. You think you answer something before you pass out again. You can’t remember what you say.

It’s not until the next morning, when you yawn as you head into the office kitchen, that you find out precisely why Javier snuck off last night.

There is cereal. And not the shitty kind- actual Cap’n Crunch, your favorite. The man beside you, who has a reputation for being a playboy and for never staying for breakfast, remembered the way you preferred your breakfast. It’s hard not to let it get to your head.

It does become routine after that. Javi lingers around the office until he can tell if you’ll leave or stay. Most nights you stay. Most turn into all. On the second night in a row, he lights himself a cigarette as he flips through a few more files before going to sleep. On the third, it goes from a bad to a really bad night when the nightmares you never seem to be able to get rid of come for you. For a second, you think this will be one step too far for him. But he barely seems to mind the way you cuddle a bit closer to him and he mumbles soft words until you go back to sleep.

He never mentions it during the day and neither do you. It’s almost like your sleeping arrangements are part of a different world, not the one that spins around your work, that’s full of drugs and death and everything else that makes sleep difficult. But Javi just feels- safe. He never asks too many questions. He just gets the blanket, sets his alarm, makes sure there is cereal in the morning. He feels like a godsent.

Of course, it’s only a question of time until someone notices something. You’re always careful to not head into your little room until everyone else is gone but occasionally, someone will show up too early or during the night- a spontaneous raid, a tip that needs instant investigating. Javi keeps the phone by his side constantly and it takes over a week for you to realize it may not just be to get alerts on developing situations but also to be alerted to someone coming into the office during unusual hours.

So when two weeks have passed and someone does catch you, Javi is glad it's Steve who is clearly just grabbing some files early in the morning and freezes in the doorway. He stares Javi down, who in return gently puts a finger onto his lips and motions for them to head to the hallway, gently closing the door behind himself as he steps out of the office.

“I have no way to be certain about Messina’s stance on this, but something tells me she wouldn't appreciate you bringing your hookers into the embassy,” Steve hums, unable to keep a small smirk off his face. Javi rolls his eyes in return, “I'm not an idiot, do you know that?”

He pauses for a moment and raises his hand just as Steve opens his mouth, “Don't answer that.” His mind is racing with too many thoughts at once. He’s not sure why, of all the things he could choose to tell Steve, he picks the truth when the lies would be so much easier.

“She was assigned a shitty apartment, hasn't been sleeping well. I remember you and Connie having similar issues after you arrived down here. With her, I figured we didn't use the room anyway and she-” he trails off. Steve brows have knitted together as the pieces slowly fall into place, “Somehow, a hooker would have been less complicated than a colleague.” There's another roll of eyes from Javi, the air a little thick with tension.

“I'm trying to help her. That's all.”

“You are trying to help her? Do you really expect me to believe that?” Steve shoots back, raising his voice until Javi motions for him to quiet down, nodding towards the door. The blonde man makes a face, but he does lower his voice as he repeats himself, “You expect me to believe that? You’re just helping her, no motive? It has nothing to do with you feeling the need to fuck your way through half the office by the time we finish the case?”

Javier actually groans at that, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. He moves his fingers to the side, using them to gently rub his tired eyes. His free arm is resting against his belt, the fingers twitching ever so slightly.

“Fuck you, Murphy. Just leave us alone and get your files in the morning.”

Steve looks like he wants to say something else, but then he thinks better of it. A small glare is sent towards his partner regardless.

“If you fuck this up somehow, Javi, I swear, I will make sure you get in real trouble. She’s too sweet for whatever you are trying to do here.”

It's two nights after the encounter with Steve- who has much to Javier's relief actually left them alone- when it happens again. It's been a particularly exhausting day for both of you, which actually made Javi hopeful that you'd both fall into a deep sleep as soon as you hit the couch. But it's been as mentally draining as it's been physically. And your mind clearly just won’t shut off.

It wakes him. The small stirring, the movement of your body beside his. He’s never been a particularly deep sleeper and Colombia has only made it worse, his brain seemingly always on alert to danger. So when he does wake, it takes Javi a few seconds to realize that the danger his brain is alerting him to is not a sicario sneaking into your room, it’s not a gun held to his head. It’s an entirely different kind of danger, one much less life-threatening but so much more complicated to fix.

A small groan escapes him as he reaches for the small light perched on the file cabinets, pulling the string attached to it. He blinks groggily as it flickers to life, bathing the room into a dim, dusty light. A few moments pass before he hears another whimper behind him and turns towards you, eyes already laced with concern.

Your features are scrunched up, lips slightly apart as the noises find their way out of your dream and into reality. Occasionally, a muscle twitches in your hands or your leg, making the whole scene even more eerie. But what gets Javier the most, what makes the pit in his stomach feel like one that could reach the ground floor, is the wetness on your face. Tears, undoubtedly slipping from your closed eyes and finding their way down the side of your face. It looks absolutely heartbreaking.

“Cariño,” he mutters under his breath, bringing his hand towards your arm and beginning to rub it in a gentle, circular motion.

“Wake up, it’s just a dream. You’re-” For a split second, he wants to say home. But he knows it's so far from the truth. He's not sure you consider any place in this country a home. Actually, he's not sure which place you do consider one.

“You’re alright,” he mumbles instead, adding a little more force to his touch and voice alike. His gaze never leaves your face as your eyes finally fly open, practically choking on the whimper that had just been leaving your throat. The panic is evident in your eyes, in the way they fly around, searching for something, anything to reassure you, to replace the pictures still floating in your mind. They find soft, brown eyes. It’s something to hold onto.

“There you are,” Javi hums, bringing his free hand to your face, his thumb catching the next tear that rolls out of the corner of your eye. “It's okay, you're safe. Just a bad dream.”

You blame it on the panic still sitting in your throat or the way you've just woken up, the way you don't even think about your movements as you move yourself into Javis arms, sneaking your arms around his waist and you think you feel him hesitate for just a moment before he wraps his arms around you in return, whispering reassurances into the dimly lit room and stroking your back.

You cry a little more, when the memories of the dream feel too overwhelming and he holds you through all of it, not once complaining about how long you’re taking to shake the thoughts off.

It’s a good half hour before you’re both lying down again, his back resting against the edge of the sofa, right arm wrapped lazily around you, “You want me to keep the light on for now?”

The idea seems a little silly to you but it takes you right back to evenings in your childhood bedroom, to what felt like endless nights of asking your father to plug in the small night light you'd gotten for christmas. It looked like a sheep, carrying a smile and enough light for you to be able to tell that there were no monsters hiding in the dark corners of your room.

“Querida?” You nod your head quickly, resting it back on his chest, “Yeah, I- let’s keep it on. If that’s okay.”

“Por supuesto que está bien,” (Of course that is okay,) Javier mumbles softly, his left hand reaching below your makeshift bed and producing a pack of Marlboros. You watch the movements of his hands, the ones you see him do at least ten times a day, his fingers reaching for a cigarette, placing it between his slightly parted lips. Pausing to search two pockets for his lighter before finding it.

At a small nudge from you, he pauses, raising a brow, “¿Sí?” You nod towards the pack that’s still resting next to him, “It’s really rude not to offer me one.”

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” he says, seeming genuinely confused for a moment and you almost take pity. You sneak your hand over his torso, drawing a cigarette from the half-empty pack, “I do now.”

To his defense, he does try and look stern for a moment. But he knows it'd be hypocritical at best if he of all people tried to stop you.

“It's a bad habit.”

“Well, then it's our bad habit.”

Javi thinks, for a split moment, that something entirely else is his bad habit. The way he looks at you when you fall asleep before him or the touches that seem to become more and more frequent the longer your sleeping arrangement continues. The way he jerks off in his shower at home, picturing your face, your body draped in his shirt a few nights ago when your blouse was simply too uncomfortable to sleep in. Spilling into his own hand with a groan at those thoughts. Yeah, that's definitely his bad habit.

“Are you going to light it for me or are you hoping it’ll disintegrate if you think hard enough?” You joke gently, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Teasing again already, are we?” Javi hums but he does reach for his lighter and brings it to your face, careful not to get too close.

He waits until you’ve both taken a few drags to ask his question.

“So what was it about?”

You swallow a bit at that, taking another long drag before you shake your head, “Nothing special. It’s already disappearing.” After another moment of thinking, you add, truthfully, “There was something with drugs in it.”

“Not very creative, I’d say. Five out of ten.”

You stare at him in disbelief, “Are you rating my nightmares, Peña?”

“I like to keep track,” he responds, giving you a small wink that you almost miss. You watch the smoke rising from the cigarette between his lips, sighing softly. You don’t like lying to him. Then again, it really was about drugs. Just not in the way he may think. It’s not your fault he’s stupid, sometimes.

“You’re silly. Go to sleep.”

“Go to sleep yourself.”

You do end up falling back asleep first, head still resting on his chest. Javi stays awake a little while longer, just in case the nightmares come back. At least that’s what he tells himself. And if he happens to use that opportunity to study your face a bit more? Well, it’s noones business.

end notes: if you enjoyed this, please reblog and/or leave a comment <3 also subscribe on ao3 or follow me here to catch the next update!

[sailing-through-hawkins]

eyes like the moon

✧ written for 'edge' ✧ word count: 509 ✧ rated: T ✧ cw: mentions of scarring ✧ tags: implied werewolf!steve ✧ @steddiemicrofic (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･✧

If there's one word for it, Eddie would have to say that it's all been very weird.

Hawkins should be just another little town in the big, wide world, filled with teeny townsfolk and their teeny-tiny perspectives.

But it isn't.

Most little towns don't have creepy laboratories or rumours of human experimentation. The strange noises in the woods might be typical though, Eddie has to admit. And it is stupid, he knows, but he was already out here when he heard the chittering so he just -

Just froze.

And the rest of the woods went silent.

Just waiting.

"What are -"

In a split second, Eddie trips, falling flat on his ass with a yelp.

"Shit, you okay?"

He stares up at - there's no way. How? Why?

Steve Harrington looks down at him with a hand stretched out. His eyes, large and sweet and fuck, almost glow in the evening light. He still has those wounds, scars stretching down his jaw and neck, nearly half of them hiding under his sweater.

When he had walked into lunch that day and everyone saw the scars - it was like someone pulled the volume down to zero. Not a peep as Harrington made his way to a seat, all nonchalant, like whatever everyone else was doing was just - just irrelevant to him.

"Eddie, man, you alright?"

Blinking, Eddie focuses his eyes on Steve's. He finds there are even more scars, albeit tiny ones, on the outer edge of his brow, marring his temple with thin slivers of pale pink flesh.

"Eddie?"

"Wha -?" he croaks out as Steve squats in front of him, head cocked like a damn puppy -

"You better not have a concussion, Munson."

"You called me Eddie," he says dumbly and nearly smacks himself for it.

Luckily, Steve seems more amused than anything at the statement. "That is your name, right?"

"Yeah but - you - I mean -"

He laughs, low and sweet and Eddie feels the sound wrap around his limbs like some kind of enchantment, making his brain go all mushy. "What are you doing out here, Eddie?"

Normally, Eddie would bristle. Normally, he'd get all high and mighty and tell any asshole who thinks what he does is their business to fuck off. Normally, he wouldn't swallow nervously.

But there's a strange glint in those eyes that has his voice cracking. "Just - out for a stroll. What are you doing out here? Steve?"

He laughs again and Eddie swears his teeth look sharp in the darkness, almost like fangs. "How 'bout we get you back home safe and sound, huh?"

"What does that mean -"

But Steve hears none of it, lifting Eddie onto his feet and walking alongside him casually, nonchalantly, god damn pretty too. The warmth he radiates, the secret smiles he lets Eddie see, the chuckles under his breath, it all makes Eddie feel so giddy he doesn't even realize that they're at his doorstep.

"Take care of yourself, Eds," Steve says as he walks away, eyes flashing silver in the moonlight.

He never did answer the question.

[justanamesstuff]

The intimacy of being understood

Chapter 1

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: I'm so excited and SO terrified about posting this fic. I've fallen for this concept since the first moment I thought about it, I've been having so many feelings writing this sooooo I really hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think, feedback is ALWAYS welcomed!! Happy reading, guys :))

Warnings: breakups, fame, hurt feelings, typos.

Word count: 2 k

Blog Masterlist Series Masterlist

After a quick lunch, eaten at the back surrounded by boxes full of books ready to be sorted out, Kate stumbled in. She was Y/n's friend since kindergarten: one day she pushed some kid –Y/n didn’t remember him– who made her cried and Kate pushed him out of a little chair. Small Kate turned around, offering her tiny hand, and Y/n stopped crying. Nothing came between them since, maintaining a very strong friendship. 

Kate didn’t work at the bookshop with Y/n, she didn’t have the money to pay someone else to help her. She did good money enough to maintain the place and rent a small flat not far away from the shop. Even though, Kate constantly showed up wanting to spend time with her, sharing the latest gossip of her office or ramble about one of her ex-girlfriends she bumped into while helping her with the books.

“She looked amazing- Holly fuck!” Kate’s tone drifted from a normal one to a gasped whisper, interrupting herself. 

Y/n looked firstly to the front door, leaving the spreadsheet on the counter; checking if someone was happening outside. She couldn’t see anything through the window. 

She decided to ask Kate, “What?” 

“Look.” it was very rare hearing Kate whisper, she was all out, a true extrovert. Her friend’s finger pointed to the other side from the door.

Y/n turned her head, still hearing the sound of the angel caller she hanged in the entrance as a bell for when a new customer entered the shop. Her eyes finally fell on a very familiar man. 

“I’m looking, but I don’t see anything weird.” Y/n copied her tone, looking how Matty roamed through the different categories. She felt strange about him not greeting her as usual. Y/n reassured herself, ‘it must be a reason’. Her eyer returned to Kate.

“Shhh.” Kate startled her best friend with the sound when nothing really happened. Y/n glanced at her as if a new eye showed up in the middle of her forehead. 

“What’s wrong with you today?” Y/n inquired. “Sorry, but I’m not following you.” she sentenced.

Kate checked Matty was turned to point a finger in his direction. “That one…” she turned her head like a mad woman. “That’s Matty Healy!” Y/n’s friend said with a hissing voice.

Y/n was so confused, “Do you know him?” maybe he was a coworker, that happened many times before. 

“Oh my god!” Kate let his arm fell, rubbing her face dramatically. “I forget how out of this world you are.” she glanced towards the floor as if she was trying to look for answers.

“Still not having a clue over this.” Y/n let eyes returned to the paper work she needed to get done.

“Matty Healy doesn’t ring a bell inside this mind of yours?” Kate tapped her left temple. 

Y/n brushed her off, trying to think about it, even when the full name didn’t bring a bell. 

“Name plus surname no. Matty comes here all the time.” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Kate stared, trying to decide if she was messing with her or not. “You’re full of shit.”

“No, I’m not. He’s really nice.” Y/n turned the page, writing numbers here and there. 

Matty was indeed a very regular, he had been for more than a month by that moment. Y/n fell quickly into conversations with him when he dropped by. She didn’t give the casual friendship too much thought until that moment.

“Oh, really?” Kate folded her arms, smirking with Y/n’s words. “How nice?”

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was implying, so her sight flew to her friend's face, being the one to search signals that told her she was kidding. Kate wasn’t, she really wanted to know.

“No like that!” the bookshop owner moved forward and beyond Kate’s body to check he wasn’t hearing their conversation. Y/n sighed loud watching him so far from them. 

“Mmm…don’t believe you.” Kate kept pushing her to talk, only gaining a red tint showing on Y/n’s cheeks.

“He started coming here like a few months ago. He looked stressed as fuck…he excused himself saying someone was following him, I’d thought he was talking about a mugger not- whatever he has…fans? I don’t even know.“ Y/n explained.

Kate nodded. “Crazy fans.”

“Well, he stayed a lot over the back of the shop and after- I don’t remember how long… he came back carrying a children's book. I think it was ‘The very hungry caterpillar’, and I got excited over it.” Y/n tried to avoid her friend’s eyes at all cost.

“Of course…” Kate’s voice full of irony. 

“He was buying it for his godson and since then he started showing up here and there…he never explained what he does for a living, I don’t even care.” Y/n admitted.

Kate let her hands fell on top of her chest. “Such a cute story”

“I can’t believe he’s famous.” 

“Yeah, you live under a rock.”

“No, I live inside the real world.”

“Liar.” Kate accused her. “You have your nose inside a book every time I open that door.” she pointed to the front door. 

Y/n gasped and turned, saying, “Aren’t you supposed to help me arrange the new saga?” 

Kate groaned loud. Y/n felt Matty looking their way, but didn’t dare to make eye contact. 

“Why I offered my free time again?” her friend asked.

“You own me! Remember how I had to pick your ass at 4 am at that Soho party you chose to tried to get in and got kicked out?” Y/n felt good teasing her back for once. 

“Thanks for reminding me that.” Kate eyes’ returned to Matty, who moved to sit at the big sofas adoring the centre of the shop. “I’ll go to the back. Shout when he comes over here.” she begged.

Y/n boobed her head up and down in a dramatic way, pursing her lips at the same time. 

“Mhm, definitely going to do that. Be sure I’ll do exactly that.” Y/n spoke to Kate’s back walking away. 

“I need to see if he’s really handsome indeed.” she whispered from the door leading to the storage room. 

“He is.” Y/n added just to mock her.

“Agh, you’re so mean!”

“Work, now!”

Y/n waited until Grace was far away to focus on Matty. He was still sitting on the sofa, now with a book on his lap but looking at the ceiling. She decided it was a good moment to approach him.

“Hey.” 

Matty got startled a little, too deep into his thoughts to acknowledge the sound of her feet approaching him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…” Y/n felt sorry to scare him.

A big smile showed up in his face, changing all his demeanour. “Hey there. Don’t worry.”

“I couldn’t stop to notice- I mean, maybe you want a moment of quiet, and I’m disturbing you but…sorry.” Y/n grew self-conscious under his attentive eyes. “What I’m trying to ask is, are you alright?” 

Matty felt his heart skip a bit, “You’re the first person to ask me today.”

Y/n frowned, checking her clock. “It’s 3 pm.” she stated.

“I know.”

“So I assume this is not your best day.”

“Not at all.” he said, still smiling, contradicting his own words somehow.

 Y/n decided to change the subject.“What book you chose?” she pointed to the book resting unread. 

“Everything quiet at the front.” Matty read the title. 

“Uplifting I see..” she joked, and Matty laughed. The sound reached her ears and warmed her heart. 

“‘m sorry I didn’t say hello earlier.” Matty apologized. “Didn’t want to interrupt your conversation with the other girl.” his hand pointed towards the front desk.

“She’s my best friend and personal nightmare…Kate.” 

“Where’s she now?”

“At the back, she owns me a few favors so…”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’m going to stop bothering-“ Y/n started excusing herself.

Matty interrupted, clarifying, “You never bother me, Y/n.” Her name coming from his lips felt different. 

“Good to know.” her cheeks were burning. Y/n turned around towards her desk but desist in the middle of the action. “Can I suggest you changing the book?” she asked, looking inside her tired eyes.

Matty gave her a signal, adding, “Which one you say is better?” 

“It’s a play in fact…’The Seagull’ by Chéjov. It’s also sad but easier to read, I think.” 

“Interesting.” Y/n felt maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut. “I have to go now, sadly, but I’ll be back soon to read it.” Matty told her.

“I can pack it for you. Have one over he-“ Y/n’s mood lifted a little with the last part, proposing packeting it for him, although she interrupted her again. 

“No, I prefer reading it here the next time I come.” 

“Okay, suit yourself, Matty.” Y/n looked down, not really knowing what to do now. 

“I’ll see you soon, thanks. Say hi to Kate for me.” Matty scratched the back of his head. 

“Oh, that nice…for sure, I’m going to retransmit that.”

“Bye.” Matty lift his hand, waving at her from a few meters far from her.

Y/n followed his form, walked towards the door, and once outside get lost between the people coming and going. 

Kate showed up from behind the storage door, smiling wide at her friend. 

“If I wasn’t so stoked about one of my favourite singer of all times knowing… remotely… who I am, I’ll say that man is sad but down bad for the library girl.” she wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Stop bluffing and celebrate a little.” Y/n tried to distract Kate. 

“Y/n…”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

They had that conversations for months, almost a fucking year, and Y/n knew it as if was a play she wrote. Kate would insist about her dating again, she would say she’s not ready –which was the truth– and her best friend would be sympathetic about it even though she would keep insisting. 

“I saw pictures of that man in love…I know, a bit, how he is.” Kate tried to persuade Y/n. 

“Kate, you really don’t know him. I don’t know him far from Matty, the guy that comes here from time to time.”

“Do you want to know more about him?” she took her phone out.

“No.I don’t. I respect his privacy.” Y/n was pushing her away, closing herself. Both friends knew that. 

“You can’t wound me with this.”

“Fine.”

“Come on! Forget he's fucking famous…he's fucking hot, and he wants you-“ 

Y/n closed her eyes tight, “You don’t-“

“He does. I feel it.”

“Why you have to sexualize this?”

“Because it what he exudes, my love.” Kate placed herself at the other side of the front desk, where Y/n was trying to look busy with books and papers. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else, okay?” Y/n stared at her eyes briefly. 

“Y/n…I know that what you’ve been through is a lot to recover your heart from, but you know he’d want-“ the mention of his wishes angered Y/n, who pushed a book down with too much force. 

“No, I don’t. He never spoked about it because we were meant to spend the rest of our lives together, and then…” Y/n felt tears pooling in the corner of her eyes.

“Oh, my love…” Kate ran around the counter. “Come here.” she hugged her friend. “I’m here, I’m here. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do it.” Y/n said into her shoulder.

“Okay, okay. I understand. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Mmm…it’s never too soon to have a new, famous and hot friend.” Kate tried to lift her mood.

Y/n snorted, “He’s hot.” there was no reason to deny it. 

“Right?! That’s a start! Baby steps…come on, girl! You can do this.” Kate took Y/n’s face between her hands, staring into her red eyes.

“Let’s get back to work, please.”

“Would you take me as an employee if I quit my job?”

Y/n titled her head, “You love your job.”

“But I’d love to see Matty's butt flying around.” 

“Could you stop sexualizing my customers, please?”

“No when they’re Matty fucking Healy!” she shouted while returning to the back.

*****************

Taglist (let me know if you want to be included): @indierockgirrl

[cb-writes-stuff]

Too Many Hats

Loop 2

You wake up in a field. You stare up at the sky, the darkless clouds drifting lazily through the air. The breeze ruffles your cloak a little. Somewhere nearby, there’s some birds singing.

So the looping thing isn’t a one-time deal… That’s good to know. Loop said as much, but you’re still not sure how much you trust them.

With an annoyed sigh, you pick yourself up and head into the village. It wasn’t bad for your inaugural loop. You got past the Death Corridor this time, and made it through the whole first floor. Unfortunately, you weren’t prepared for that Sadness with the big ball head. Not that it matters, much. Now you know for next time.

Mirabelle comes up to you as you’re crossing the bridge into the village proper. You’re prepared, this time. “Siffrin!” she says. “You’re up!”

Just be casual. “Hey Mira.”

“Hey, Siffrin!” She giggles a little. “So how was your nap? On a scale of one to ten!”

Don’t screw it up this time. “It was alright.”

“I’m glad!” she tells you, clasping her hands. “I know how much you value your naps.” Suddenly, her face scrunches. “Oh, wait! I had something I wanted to ask you!!!” As she talks about her sleepover idea, you realize you’ve heard this before. You don’t guess there’s much reason to listen to it again… She’s done. “It would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Yeah, you know what to say. Make her happy. “That sounds like an AMAZING idea, Mira!” you say with your most enthusiastic voice.

Her face lights up as you say it. “Yeah? Oh, I’m so glad you think so! I was thinking it was a little silly, but if you think it could be fun, then great!!!” You nod with her. That’s encouraging, right? “Ah, I can’t wait…” she continues. “This will be delightful! I’m smiling just thinking about it…”

Stars, her excitement is literally infectious. Seeing her so happy makes you happy too. You can’t help but smile back.

The conversation goes on just like it did the last two times. You thought it’d get boring, saying the same things over and over again, but it’s not so bad. It’s comfortable, even. You wave at Mirabelle as she walks away.

Right. Next thing to do is head to the shop and talk to Odile. She seemed suspicious last time… You wanna make sure you’re not that obvious.

Just like before, Odile is in the back of the shop, picking out various supplies. Unsurprisingly. You head over to her. “Odile!”

She glances at you. “Oh, Siffrin,” she says, turning to face you properly. “You look rested. Glad to see you this laidback on the day before the end of the world.” So that’s still normal. Good. She goes on, “Anyway. How can I help you?”

Might as well come right out and ask. “So, um. Anything weird happen lately?”

“Weird…?” she asks. “Like what? I didn’t see anything weird. Did you see anything weird?” Her eyes are drilling holes into you! You forgot about that!!!

Quick, say something normal! “Nope! Not at all, not a single weirdo in sight.”

Nice.

Odile stares at you. You can’t tell if that face is suspicious or confused. There’s a long silence between the two of you before she finally says, “Okay.” She turns back to the shelves, sifting through them. “I’ll keep an eye out,” she tells you. “I do hope you’ll also let me know if you see ‘something weird’.”

You don’t say anything.

You screwed it up again. Stars, when will you get it right?

…You’re glad she’s not looking at you right now.

“Anything else?” she asks. You quickly tell her no. “Okay. I’ll see you at the clocktower later then.”

Okay. Good. Odile talked to. Now you can leave. Which you do very quickly. And head for Bonnie as quickly as possible.

★〜★〜★

Odile watched Siffrin leave from the corner of her eye. They were acting strange. Not strange enough for her to care, though. And besides, knowing the world was ending tomorrow could make anyone act strange.

She hears the door open and close again, and someone’s footsteps approaching. “Hey, um, Odile.”

“What is it, Siffrin?” She turns, looking down at him. He seems bothered.

Their face quickly changed, now looking a little hurt. “Did I do something wrong?” they ask.

She raises an eyebrow. “No? What would make you think…” Hmm. She hadn’t used the kindest tone. She shakes her head. “No, you’re fine. Is there something I can help you with?”

Siffrin shuffles in place, and the shifting lumps in his cloak tell her he’s fidgeting. “Have you… seen anything weird, lately?”

“Not since the last time you asked me, no…” She fixes her gaze on him. Something isn’t right. “Have you?”

They jump, plainly startled. “Nope! Not at all!” they say, very unconvincingly. Except… they acted as if they hadn’t done the same exact thing just a few minutes ago.

She spends a long time just looking at him, trying to find some hint of… something. Because something was definitely off. “Siffrin… are you alright?” She normally wouldn’t be bothered to ask, but this was just too much. “I know you’re forgetful, but you’re not this forgetful.”

They were actually sweating. She’d never seen Siffrin sweat before. “Yeah! I’m fine! Super fine!” They give her two thumbs up, to show just how fine they are. “Fine and dandy! But…” They try to retreat into their cloak like a turtle. Good. Normal Siffrin behavior. “Why do you ask?”

Odile looks him over, scanning from hat to heels. He doesn’t seem to be faking it, and even if he is, it’s an odd thing to fake. She crosses her arms. “I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. Do you really not remember talking to me already?”

Siffrin just stares for a moment. Then their face pales. Odile hadn’t thought it possible for them to be any paler. “W-wuh… When?” they stutter.

Okay. So he had forgotten. Concerning, but not highly unusual. Along their journey, the group often had to remind him of things he forgot. “Just a few moments ago,” she tells him patiently. “You asked me the same question you did just now. Is something on your mind, Siffrin?” There must be, if he remembered to ask but not the actual asking.

They shake their head. “No, not really,” they say a little too quickly. “Um. I’m gonna go now.”

“Okay…” Odile tries one more time to find any clue as to what’s wrong. “See you tonight then…” He only nodded before fleeing the shop.

Strange. Very strange. She’ll have to keep an eye on them, she decided.

★〜★〜★

Well. This has been a very weird day so far.

You died. Flattened into a pancake by a surprise rock. Then you woke up, yesterday. Somehow. And no one but you remembers what happened. It seemed like Odile did for a second when you were talking to her, but that weird Loop person said she doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter though. What matters is that you’re here. You’re alive. And you can change things. And you’re never at risk of dying, so that’s pretty cool. And—

You’re just passing the sign that says “Favor Tree” when you see it. There’s someone at the Change God statue, wearing a darkless cloak and a big floppy hat, just like yours. They swing their dagger—curved, like yours—a few times, and fumble it. They quickly pick it back up and look around, hoping no one saw.

Their eyes lock with yours. Slowly, very slowly, they approach. And they just… stand there. Looking at you.

You take a few steps closer, circling your way in. They do the same.

They have an eyepatch over their left eye, and mostly darkless hair to their shoulders. It’s dyed lightless in the back. This feels like looking in a mirror. Except there’s obviously no mirror here. Maybe it’s invisible? You’ve heard that birds can’t see glass. Maybe this is like that. Maybe you’re a bird.

You look up and see them make the same confused face as you.

You’ve switched sides with them now, you with your back to the Change God statues and them with their back to the path to the Favor Tree. Very cautiously, you reach out a hand, a finger, as they copy you exactly. You inch closer and closer, until finally… you touch.

Nothing happens.

“Um,” they say, staring at the point where your fingers meet. “I kinda thought the universe would explode, or something.” Their voice sounds just like yours.

“Yeah,” you reply, your mind racing and giving you nothing to work with. “Me too.” You look up, and meet your own gaze.

Your other hand twitches. So does theirs. You both want to reach for your knives. But what’s the point? Aren’t you evenly matched? Won’t you just tire each other out, or worse… kill each other.

They grimace. “I… don’t really feel like killing myself,” they say.

You shake your head. “Me neither.”

They look around, then wave for you to follow. “Probably don’t want anyone seeing us.”

You nod, and follow them towards the Favor Tree. But instead of turning, they lead you through the trees, and into a tiny clearing. You could cross it in a few steps. It’s hardly a clearing. But, looking around, you can’t see through the trees.

They whip around, knife drawn. “Who are you?” they ask. Calling them “angry” was an understatement. “Why are you… me!?”

One hand, you fling up defensively. The other flashes for your knife and rests there. You can’t take any risks right now.

Okay. So, on top of all the other weirdness, you’re now being held at knifepoint by another you. What do people usually do here?

Oh, yeah. Try to smooth things over. “I’m Siffrin,” you say. Okay. Good. What next. “And you are?” Good. Very good. You’re surprisingly calm, given the circumstances.

“…I’m Siffrin.” He sounds calmer, but he doesn’t put the knife away. “How… How did you get here?”

Um? “I’ve been travelling with my allies, gathering the—”

“The five orbs, I know. I mean, why is there another me?”

You don’t know that one, so you shrug. “I’m as confused as you are.” Are you in shock? You’re probably in shock. That would make sense. Normally, people aren’t so calm when their other self is threatening to kill them. Oh, you should probably explain all that, in case the other you doesn’t know. “We went into the House, and there was a Death Corridor, and then I couldn’t find any switches or wires or traps or anything, then a rock fell on me.” Oh stars, you’re rambling.” And I died. Then I woke up back in Dormont, and I met this weird star person, and—”

“Wait.” Thank the stars, they interrupted you. “You’ve only looped once?”

You nod. “Why…?”

They hesitate. “I’ve looped twice.”

Oh. Well that changes things. “So you’re me from the future?” He nods. “Huh. What happened?”

“Big ball head killed us.”

You have no idea what that means. “Cool.”

They put their knife away. “We should probably head to the clocktower.”

You nod. Together, side by side, you head east. It’s more than awkward.

You don’t want to say anything. You know he’s thinking the same thing. You probably don’t have to say anything at all. They look at you, their face… concerned, you think.

Yep. You’re definitely thinking the same thing.

How are you gonna explain the fact that there’s two of you?

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Being in a relationship with Kure Raian...

You’d think that Raian, although he’s the black sheep of the clan, would be as obsessed over strong people and fighting as everyone else is - Just like Karla is obsessed over Ohma not because she likes him, but because he’s strong and could produce strong offsprings and whatever - But Raian isn’t that way. 

In fact, even if people like that catch his eye, he would fight the urge to march up to them and strike up a conversation - Rather, if he does find strong people, he might just beat them up.

But there is something that would make Raian all hot and bothered - And that is getting ignored.

Yeah, that’s right.

Raian would literally spontaneously combust if he wants someone’s attention, and he’s getting blatantly ignored or brushed off.

That’s exactly what happened when his younger sister, Fusui, brought over one of her friends. At first, he didn’t care. You were just some pretty face, like many, many others he’s seen... But somehow, your aloof personality and the resting bitch face you were sporting, a complete opposite aura from Fusui, who held the most cheerful grin on her face - Okay, he was intrigued. Not only that, but from what his sister said, you were just a normal person - A cute, little rabbit in a den of lions - Yet you seemed completely at ease and unafraid.

In an instant, Raian found himself towering his large shadow over the spot on the grass where the two girls were having a picnic. He had that psycho grin of his ever present. Fusui greeted him cheerfully, though she sweatdropped, realising that he might be so bored that he wants to scare her friend away. 

Y/N simply gave him a lazy wave of her hand - Her attention was still on Fusui, and she didn’t once break the flow of their conversation. He frowned. Not even a hello? How rude!

Raian’s voice became louder, but also grittier, like the sound of nails scratching a blackboard. He was throwing the most random profanities, and telling Y/N about his latest assassination mission he had, hoping to creep her out with the gore details - Much to his surprise, the small girl casually got to her feet and looked, incredibly bored, into his eyes.

“Hey, Ryan, where did you get this shirt?” Raian blinked, his smile dropping immediately, feeling the girl gingerly pick the hem of his shirt and feeling it. “It feels like cashmere. Is it cashmere? It’s really good quality.” “My name is Raian, you bitch! Get it through that thick skull of yours!” Fusui immediately reprimanded him for insulting her friend - But the insult fell on deaf ears. “Tell me where’d you get it from, Kevin. I kinda want to get one myself.” her hands slowly traced up to his abdomen, but Raian was so flustered up and irritated by getting called such weird names, that he didn’t notice. “I SAID MY NAME IS RAIAN, ARE YOU DEAF?!” he was shouting so loudly, that Y/N could have sworn her eardrums ruptured. “It would be better if the store had an online site - I don’t really have much time to go shopping myself. Actually - Do you think I could have it delivered for Kure Miguel?” Fusui was sure her friend had a death wish, but at the same time, it was kinda hilarious seeing her brother so worked up over his name. “WHO THE FUCK IS MIGUEL?!” his screech was so powerful that he’d put a Banshee to shame. “Dunno.” Y/N shrugged and pushed Raian into the small water pond right behind him. The water barely reached his waist as he was sitting in it, a lilypad on his head. “I’ll kill you.” his voice was so ominous, low, dark, menacing - And solemn, above all else - That Fusui’s heart froze in fear for her friend’s life. “WAIT, NO, RAIAN DON’T ---” but Y/N was laughing so cutely, that Raian stopped abruptly, glaring down at her. Instead of killing her, he threw his arms around her, hearing her groan. “I~ Got~ You~ So~ Weeeeeeeet~ ♪ Babeeeeeeeeeee~♪“ Fusui has never seen her brother like this - She could just stare in complete disbelief. “Technically speaking, I made you wet, Fritz.” the girl put her palm over his face, pushing him away from her. “Now you’ve done it.” Raian grinned widely. Y/N realised his master plan, and she sighed in defeat. “You’re gonna throw me in the water, aren’t you?” he let out a ‘yup’ sound, before he threw her in the pond. If the water was any higher, he’d have jumped with her - But with how little it is, she probably would have barely gotten wet at all. He was laughing so hard, his sides were aching, but he couldn’t stop. She looked like a wet, grumpy dog - Until she, too, started laughing. “Alright, alright, you got me. Good one. Now help me up, psycho.” Raian missed the mischievous smile on her face, and as he crouched down, extending his hand for her to take - Only for her to tug on his hand and have him fall in the water again. “You’re the psycho, not me!” the two looked at each other and started sniggering like two idiots. Fusui just stared at them, perplex, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them. Did Y/N just manage to tame the Black Sheep of the Kure Clan? Something that not even their Patriarch could do? “You owe me your shirt.” she said blankly, stopping her laughter abruptly. “Any time~♪“ Raian nonchalantly took his shirt off and let it fall on her head. “...Okay, I might have just sabotaged myself.” she sighed, getting up and out of the pond. “I was supposed to have a sleep over. I don’t have any dry clothes anymore.” she stole a glance at the man. “I suppose I can’t stay over anymore. What a pity. Time to get home, I guess.” she shrugged nonchalantly, waving at Fusui and walking towards the exit of the large garden, only to feel herself being picked up bridal style.

Raian had taken her to his room and threw at her all cashmere clothes he had, while Y/N could barely hide her amusement. Clearly, she could wear some of Fusui’s clothes, after all, they’re around the same frame and they are friends - Or she could borrow the clothes of literally any woman of the Kure - Silly boy, so easily tricked. Or maybe he wanted to be tricked? Either way, Y/N found this, by far, the most hilarious situation she ever faced.

By this time, Raian kept bugging on Y/N and Fusui for the whole day, and during the evening, at dinner, Erioh and Karla and her brother had them all eat together. Y/N looked at her friend, her eyes pleading, embarrassed at the get up she was wearing. Suddenly, the whole joke was ruined and she was the one being tricked. How can she possibly go eat dinner with their 1000 year old patriarch and the rest of the family, when she’s barely wearing Raian’s shirt, and albeit long enough to reach the middle of her thigh, it was still improper. Raian didn’t give her any time to beg Fusui for a proper change of clothes, for he grabbed her wrist and dragged her and his sister all the way to the table. He was also still shirtless, so it only made things worse.

Y/N kept her head down the whole time, hoping that her face wouldn’t betray her embarrassment. Karla, Sarla and Fusui were talking casually about their assassin work, Y/N threw some comments here and there, the old man was quiet, and Raian was... Being Raian, and wolfing down a shit ton of food. Until Karla suddenly noticed there was no more water, and the fight for who would be the loser to bring another water carafe started. It genuinely felt like all the Kure children were going to put down the chopsticks and start a brawl to the death - But Y/N broke the tension. “Ah... There’s no more water. This food is so good, but it got me so thirsty... Can you please tell me where the kitchen is, to get more water?” before the old man could blink, Raian had already returned, and was pouring water in Y/N’s cup. “Oh! Thank you, Jericho!” ... Jericho? Erio had no idea what was going on, but he was genuinely impressed by how this outsider managed to quite literally manipulate the most rebelious clan member to do whatever she wanted... And prevented a war. And he was also shocked when he saw Raian placing his small rice bowl over her face, and laughing like an idiot, to the point he was rolling on the ground like a manic.

Y/N slowly removed the bowl from her face and used a napkin to clean all the rice, and she sighed. “Alright, I suppose I deserve it.” her nonchalance was genuinely so weird for all these proactive people. “Your stomach is going to hurt if you continue rolling like that.” she warned. “Also, it’s not nice, playing with your food. What are you, a kitten, Abraham?” Raian straightened up immediately and glared at the girl, watching her continuing to eat without sparing him a single glance. “WHO THE FUCK IS ABRAHAM?! AND I’M NOT A FUCKING CAT, YOU STUPID BITCH!” he shrieked loudly into her ear, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, the hand in which she was holding her own rice bowl slowly made its way to his face. Raian’s whole face had rice all over it, and Y/N wasn’t removing the bowl. “Take this off me, bitch, or I snap your neck!” that is what he said - Or, at least, what he tried to say, for the rice kept muffling him. “It’s not nice to speak like that, especially in front of your family... Or... To me. You really made me sad...” her voice was pouty and upset - Erio couldn’t believe the power she had over him, and as far as he was concern, this was the first time they met. By the looks of it, everyone was still in shock. “Y/N....” she slowly took away the bowl from his face, and with perfect precision, used her chopsticks to take a single rice grain from his face, and taunted him by eating it.

The whole room was quiet. They were preparing for the girl’s funeral. That is, until they saw her turn her head to the side, biting her lip and her shoulders were shaking. Raian’s face also suddenly split in a wicked grin. Suddenly, a few rice grains started falling off his face, and Y/N couldn’t keep herself in check anymore, and she started laughing, and so did the psycho. Y/N took another rice with her chopsticks, and they ended up laughing even harder. “Weirdos.” Fusui smiled wryly, completely surprised that her friend was getting along with her brother better than with her. “Y/N’s going to be our new sister, Fusui! I want to take care of your babies with Raian! I bet they’re going to be so strong!” the laughter stopped, and the atmosphere changed immediately. Y/N looked down, her face red with embarrassment, whilst Raian immediately wiped his face and glared at Karla, shouting at her for being an idiot. After this, no other fun moments happened, and Y/N returned to Fusui’s room.

Surprisingly, Raian doesn’t always act like he’s fucked in the head, nor is his voice harsh and loud. Late into the night, he sneaked into the girls’ room and woke Y/N up, and with a playful smirk, he urges her to follow him outside, and he takes her back to the pond. The two didn’t speak much, and just gazed up at the stars for a while. It was a serene and comfortable silence, though there was a certain tension between them, and neither spoke. It was weird. 

Raian would take off his warm jacket and put it over her shoulders, as she was still wearing just his cashmere shirt - He knew it would be chilly outside. He knew he wanted to see her, but he had no idea what to say. Karla’s comment really threw him off his grove, and it seemed to have done the same for Y/N, who was able to purposely get a raise out of him so many times in a single day, to the point that he was so hot and bothered that he’d have claimed her on the spot. A hundred times, and more. But that vanished completely, and now he annoyingly felt like some kind of awkward teenage boy, and he hated it.

“Hey, Bruce Lee.” Y/N’s voice wasn’t challenging nor provoking, and though it irked Raian to be called by a wrong name again, the softness of her voice only made him grumble. “Do you know how to put 100 babies in a single bucket?” “Huh? What the hell are ya on?” he snapped his head at her, looking with a weird expression on his face.  Y/N turned to face him, and her smile grew, as if she was trying not to laugh at herself for the stupid joke she was about to reveal. “In a blender.” 

Raian stared stupid at her, eyes wide, unblinking - He almost looked as though he was analysing the very milimeters of her ever growing grin. Raian’s humour was shit. Dark jokes that involve carnage, or simply shock value... Maybe even a shit joke, but with a good momentum delivery... And Y/N’s joke seemed to check all the boxes.

His laugh resounded so loud through the Kure village that the two actually heard “SHUT UP” scolds right back. Y/N was trying hard to stifle her chuckles, but to no avail. “You’re actually kinda cute when you laugh.” “What’s big and smells like shit? GENOCIDE!” he was choking from laughing so much, while Y/N’s mouth twitched. Shit joke, shit delivery.  “Your joke was about as bad as your sense of humour, Jose. But it’s fine. I’ll be the funny one of us.” she looked away, shrugging nonchalantly. “If ya call me by another name ONE! MORE! TIME!!! I swear, I’ll fuckin’ kill ya, babe!” he sneered at her with a glare. “Do it, Dennis.” Y/N found herself being roughly pushed to the ground, though her head didn’t collide, as it was carefully pillowed by his palm. She did not see the starry night, but his face - Handsome, and so impossibly close to her own. He sniggered like a mischievous demon. “You’re trapped, babe~♪ What’cha gonna do now~♪?”

Y/N blinked, realising the situation she was in. Not only was she trapped in those big and warm arms of his, but his body was also almost flush against her own. They were so close, that she feared Raian felt how fast her heart was beating against her chest... And against his own also.

But Y/N’s response was unexpected - Gingerly wrapping her fingers into his cashmere shirt... Did he choose it intentionally? - She pulled herself up to plant tender kiss on his lips. For a maniac, he had very plump and kissable lips. Eventually, she pulled away and laid back on the ground, shyly looking at the completely unresponsive boy.

Kure Raian, the Demon, the Black Sheep of the Kure clan - Was blushing like a highschool boy with a crush. How is he supposed to react? What is he supposed to do? Just -- What just happened? He is so lost that he’s making Y/N uncomfortable with how he’s staring at her so intently.

“U-Uh... Wh-What do you call a baby with no arms and no legs in the middle of the ocean?” hearing her voice, albeit, shaky and unsure, unlike before, brought him back to reality. “What?” he breathed out. “...Fucked.” Y/N’s smile was so nervous and awkward. “Marry me.”

Since that night, Raian began his “Marry me” gimmick - And though it was obviously a gag, he half-meant it every time he said it.

Nobody ever believed that Raian would ever have a proper relationship, considering that everyone ostracizes him for being a merciless idiot, but the way he’s unintentionally simping SO hard for you is almost hilarious. How you learnt to tame the beast that he is, it’s a complete miracle. The Clan literally watches you, leaning at the base of a tree, reading leisurely, and you bait Raian into doing whatever you want, like - Make you a lemonade, or have him go get an ice-cream. All the weirdest things.

But if that wasn’t shocking enough, the fact that that boy can actually stay STILL for more than 5 seconds at a time, was absolutely fascinating. The patriarch would sit on the porch of the house and watch Raian sitting with his head on your lap as you absently play with his hair - And he actually stays there, and doesn’t laugh, or speak a thousand words per second, or throws profanities - He’s just laying there, a passive smile on his face, and living in the moment.

What a fascinating creature.

Raian always tells you all the most gruesome details of every mission he goes on, hoping he would creep you out - But you just nod at him dismissively and tell him to go on with his story.

Raian loves to show off when he’s training, knowing perfectly well that he’s attractive, wearing only his fighting shorts, with sweat dripping all over his flexed muscles... And then chases you around the garden to give you a hug, knowing you don’t want his disgusting sweat all over your clothes.

Fusui becomes your literal best friend, though you’re wary of Karla and her obsessive comments - She’s a good girl otherwise. Generally, you get along well with the clan, but both you and Raian agree that you need a break from them, so you crash at your own, away from all the madness the chaotic assassins dwell in.

When you’re hanging at your home, you feel more comfortable to act a bit more intimate. Don’t be fooled by his brashness, if you get together before he’s like - 20 years old, he’d probably brush off the idea of going any further - Unless you initiate it, then he’s game.

He just likes to be the best at everything he does, and while he was born into a family of fighting and killing, being intimate is something completely different, and it annoys him that he’s not a God from the very beginning - Although, he makes up with his eagerness and his absolute love of touching each and every part of your body and teasing you with a ton of kisses. He’s actually a natural, and the cute faces and sounds you make are his fuel, especially when he surprises you.

When you get intimate, he’s not afraid to experiment things and easily picks up on the things that you like and you don’t.

He also loves kissing you until you can’t breathe anymore.

Kisses with Raian are careful and soft at first, but quickly get deeper and more passionate, and he starts kissing and nipping at your bottom lip, licking and sucking on it before pulling you even closer to his body.

The problem is, he loves hugging you from behind and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck that he forgets he’s not always at home, in private, with you only, and he starts nipping at the soft skin on your neck.

The inside joke of calling him different names continues well into the years, and it confuses most people - The problem is, you often forget what names you used, and he teases you by pointing out you called him the same name twice in a week.

He wants to see you wearing his shirt at home and preferably nothing else underneath, while he stays topless and purposely flexes, to the point that he’s ridiculous.

Raian is incredibly playful, even if it goes borderline genocidal, it’s just how he is - And you always make fun of him for trying too hard.

Years after you met, he gets in the Kengan Annihilation Tournament, and of course, he refuses to go unless you’re with him - And honestly, how can anyone complain, considering you’re the only thing keeping him somehow stable? Though, you sometimes have the bad habit of letting him play around a bit too much.

You also kinda laugh when he’s threatening and playing around with Lihito in the bathroom, though you also scold him for dragging you in the men’s bathroom and unintentionally being forced to see that idiot’s... Privates.  

You’re also a bit irked by his unnecessary sadist show against Mokichi, especially as he’s called out your name, and you wanted nothing to do with him killing the only guardian of a little girl.  

When you scolded and refused to speak to him until he apologised, he got angry as all fuck and went on a rampage, and despite the Kure literally pleading to you to make him stop - You didn’t.  

Surprisingly, though, he was humbled in the second round by Tokita Ohma - And you mentally thanked the brunet for being strong enough and putting a dent into Raian’s ever-going berserk attitude.  

 Though Ohma was in a coma, Raian woke up soon after, and he found in the infirmary, alone with Mokichi and Ohma.

The room was quiet, save for the beeping of the oxygen machines, and you refused to even look at him, which angered him.

But then you explained why you were pissed with him, and also, why he lost so pathetically - And though he wanted to snap your neck for scolding him, he also knows she was right, not that he’d admit.

During the coup d’etat, he threw all of his frustrations into mass-killing, but once again, his bloodlust made him lose focus, and he got injured again.

Though you didn’t say anything, you did patch him up - He was so silent, that it made you realise he was actually reflecting on his downfall.

And you kissed him.

Over the course of almost three years after the Kengan Tournament, when Ohma comes over to the village to life and train with them, you can see Raian focusing more, and though the brutality is still there, he can actually control it.

Ohma became a trusted confidant and good friend of yours, and the two of you could comfort each other with the two Kure obsessing over you.

Raian’s gimmick with the marriage thing was amped up, though it was more or less to make fun of Karla... Not that she’d realise.

Over the years, Raian made sure to actually teach you how to fight to defend yourself, despite priding himself with being being so powerful that she’d never get herself in danger.

When you reveal Ohma to the world and go visit Koga and Ryuki at the hospital, you see Raian had climbed up the 5th floor and was mocking the young boys.

So you went up to him and pushed him off.

Everyone except for Ohma gawked, afraid for his life.

You just show him the selfie Raian sent you, while he was falling - He was pulling an overly exaggerated kissy face.

Dork.

He was a bit annoyed with how empathetic you were, comforting or cheering every fighter (except for Akoya) for their matches, so he keeps you caged in his arms, teasing you with small comments and kisses to your neck and cheeks.

To stop himself from going ape-shit from the wait leading to his own match, he snatched your hands and would absently play with them or kiss them.

Though the whole Worm thing was worrying you - You didn’t want anything bad happening to the family, or these Kengan people. They all looked like good people. 

But then Raian’s match came by and he was fighting Alan Wu, a clear enemy.

You pulled Raian into a kiss, more or less to have the time to warn him not to lose his cool and actually focus on the match, not on his bubbling emotions.

He just grins and brush off your worries, saying he’s a changed man and what not.

But then he gets threatened with a knife, sees Edward Wu in the hallway...

And he rips Alan in two in a split second, running after his arch enemy.

You stare at the mess left behind that was once a person, and you curse out loud - Raian’s lost it and he’s gonna get in trouble.

You don’t care that Alan was killed, but you fear Raian and his impulsiveness might get him in such a tight situation that he might get himself killed.

Even though Erio and the other two are there.

You and Ohma look at each other, and together, you pick Karla and rush to look for Raian, ready to potentially help him in a fight.

Only to see Kure Erio on the ground and dying.

Raian was sitting on the ground, livid with anger, feeling defeated.

They should have won with no casualties! So why the heck did the old fart use himself bait?! And why wasn’t he strong enough to kill those fuckers without the need of aid?!

He was filled with so many feelings of self-hatred and anger, that even your arms around him, or your comforting words couldn’t drown them out.

You held his hand throughout the funeral and comforted him for days on end, but Raian was still bitter.

Since then, you took a more active role in searching for the Worms - You might not have been a fighter, but you were smart enough to come up with plans and do the brain work for them.

Since the patriarch’s death, Raian visibly mellows down, at least around you, and he finally realises how fragile life can be - And if even that old man, who was the strongest man he knows, who was the first Fang of Metsudo and whatever... If even he could die... What about someone like you, who’s such a fragile little bunny? What if he’s not there to protect you? Not that his presence mattered when Erio died. And, worse - What if you’re used as bait to get to him? What if you get killed in front of him?

Being an assassin means that he’s seen and done a lot of cruel things himself, so he puts all the worst in front.

The night of the patriarch’s funeral, you hold his body close to your own, his head on your chest, and you play with his hair, allowing him to vent his anger with any profanity he might feel the need to spew.

But his silence is far worse than all his anger.

During that very night, Raian came to the realisation of a lifetime.

He pulls you into a tight embrace, and hides his face in the crook of your neck, so you wouldn’t see the single tear of sheer self-anger and regret.

 And in the most broken, vulnerable voice, you hear him voice the words that he’s been meaning to tell you for so long, but stopped himself, thinking he’d sound weak or something that didn’t matter anymore.

“I love you.”

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

Being in a relationship with Wakatsuki Takeshi... Being in a relationship with Yoroizuka Saw Paing... Being in a relationship with Kure Raian... Being in a relationship with Tokuno’o Tokumichi... Being in a relationship with Kano Agito... Being in a relationship with Gaolang Wongsawat... Being in a relationship with Gaoh Ryuki... Being in a relationship with Narushima Koga... Being in a relationship with Hatsumi Sen

[fortheloveofarchons]

Caelus finds Aventurine alone

Check out my new fic called "Caelus Our Silly, Little, Chaotic Goober!" Full chapter is at the link down below!! Kudos and comments are much appreciated!

Post referenced to @tsarinadari on X, Instagram and @tsar on Ao3!

Tsarinadari's work

C.W.

- Aventurine/Caelus ship - Aventurine/Ratio ship - Fluff and humour - Fluff and Angst - Hurt Aventurine - Soft Dr Ratio - Soft Caelus - Neck kissing - Mentioned Firefly and Robin

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“Is that… Mr. Aventurine?” 

What was supposed to be a normal day for Caelus to find some trashcan– I mean, wander around The Reverie, finds himself hiding behind the elevator, peeking at the young man with sandy blonde hair. He crouches low behind the sleek, metallic frame of the elevator, his eyes dart nervously across the expansive lobby. 

It appears that Aventurine is by himself, lounging on the elegant round sofa in the centre of the hotel lobby. Aventurine reclines casually, his posture relaxed as he soaks in the opulent surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the commotion unfolding around them. 

A few passersby cast some odd gazes and furtive glances in Caelus’s direction. Their expressions range from confusion to suspicion, their whispers mingling with the soft hum of conversation that fills the air.

“What is he doing over there?” 

“He’s so weird…” 

“Mom… he looks scary.” 

Caelus couldn’t help but let out an awkward chuckle in response, rubbing the back of his head from their attention. After all, how would you feel from seeing a random guy just hiding behind the elevator and acting suspicious in the middle of the day? 

Just as Caelus was about to stand up, someone whispered something… different. 

“Ugh… I can’t believe the IPC allows a Sigonia to work under their authority. What were they thinking?” 

Caelus stops at his tracks, hearing the nosy lady’s voice. 

Wait… what?

“Hey, pipe down!” The other lady whispers loudly. “We’re in a hotel lobby, maintain your dignity!” 

“Ugh, I know…” Caelus didn’t turn his head to look at the two ladies, but he still remained in his tracks, hearing their words. “It’s just– You know fully well how I feel about those Sigonians, a bunch of manipulative skeezers who can enchant those around them and get what they want. As much as I pity them sometimes, no wonder the Katicans attacked them, Sigonians’ traits can inspire jealousy in others.”  

He could hear chuckles rasping from behind. 

Caelus clenches his fists onto his black jacket. As much as the working relationship between Caelus and Aventurine was not from coercion, but a temptation with the promise of gain after the devastating events of what happened to Firefly and Robin’s demise, the hotel guests’ hurtful words would certainly make an ordinary individual feel angry at them. 

Wait… so those glances… Caelus thought, staring at Aventurine from behind. And those words were all about him this whole time? What do I… do?

A pang of empathy stirs within him, the discomfort of witnessing such behaviour urging him to take action. 

► (Walk up to Aventurine and talk to him)

► (Hit those people with a baseball bat! Rules are made to be broken, after all!) 

► (Ignore Aventurine and move on, trashcan and treasure awaits!) 

“No, I can’t just hit these people with my baseball bat.” Caelus mumbles to himself. “I don’t want to make the others worried about my wrongdoings once again… But, ignoring him doesn’t seem right either.” 

Despite the unease gnawing at his conscience, Caelus knows he can't stand idly by. With a determined resolve, he rises from his position and strides purposefully towards the lone figure, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. 

As he approaches, he notices the subtle tension in Aventurine’s posture. Despite his pink rimmed glasses, it doesn’t cover the slight downturn of his eyes. A familiar sight– the weight of isolation and rejection bearing down on his shoulders already burdened by external issues.  

With his casual smile, Caelus sits down next to Aventurine in greeting, his voice warm and genuine as he offers a simple invitation to join him. 

“Hey, mind if I join you for a bit?” He asks, his words carrying a quiet sincerity that resonates in the silence of the room. 

Caelus could’ve sworn that Aventurine’s two toned neon pink and blue eyes widened in surprise, but Aventurine immediately covers it by pushing his pink-tinted glasses upward. 

“Ah, Mr. Stellaron.” Aventurine casts him a smirk, his arm gesturing to the seat beside him. “A pleasant surprise, though it is not unexpected to meet you again.” 

“Ahaha… It sure is.” Caelus casts a side eye to one of the passersby, who immediately avoids his gaze and resumes walking from their post. Although it is normal that the IPC would create neutral relationships with everyone across the galaxy, seeing a Sigonian man conversing with the Trailblazer who once saved the Xianzhou Luofu and Jarilo-VI automatically made the passersby resumes their duties, as if those insults weren’t thrown in the first place. 

“Humans certainly are interesting when it comes to status and wealth,” Aventurine initiates a conversation, bringing his glass of whiskey to his lower lip. “Don’t they, friend?” 

“Sorry?” Caelus blinks in confusion. 

“Think about it, wealth begets Erudition, produces Elation, averts Destruction, and builds Harmony.” Aventurine sips on his fine glass of whiskey before he sets it back onto the table, and drops of water from the whiskey glass stays in his gloves. “Yet, there’s always going to be people that cause chaos in this order. I guess it doesn’t really matter how much you try to conceal yourself with lavish clothes and silver tongues.” 

“...Wait, if this is what you are implying then--" The gears shift into Caelus's head. "Is that why you use these sunglasses? Especially when they are pink-rimmed? Wait-- Is that why you are wearing fancy, lavish clothes too?" 

“You're smart, mostly for pointing the 'pink-rimmed' part out!” Aventurine replies back, holding the temple of his glasses. “I like wearing clothes like these, as I never had the chance to, but for the glasses, it's for my eyes, not for showing off." 

Aventurine then takes off his glasses, and Caelus could see them clearly. The colours of his eyes immediately reminds him of the enigmatic meme back in the Memory Zone, one that is believed to be a manifestation of people’s fear of death and murder. With its piercing purple and pink shades, along with its squirmy body that looks like a centipede, it sends a shiver down Caelus’s spine. 

Especially after what happened with Firefly.....

[versegm]

Prior to Ritsuka, Artoria (Caster, she who chants, child of prophecy, ect ect,) hadn’t really interacted with any humans.

Nothing specist about it. Castoria dislikes people in general, humans and fairies alike. But there were no humans in Tintagel, so she knew way less about their innards than she does about the average fae.

Which is really a long way to say, she thinks she can be forgiven for taking this long to figure out what exactly is wrong with her friend.

“Ritsuka?” Her knuckles rap against the door. “Do you have a moment?”

She hears shuffling, then the door swings wide open. “Artoria! Always a pleasure to see you.” There are bags under their eyes, as it is sadly commonplace, but their smile is bright with truth. 

Artoria steps inside and closes the door behind her, discreetly casting a spell to keep it locked. No offense to the other servants (okay, a lot of offense,) but this is important and she really doesn’t want to be interrupted.

“You got good timing! Cat stopped by earlier with some experimental snacks.” They bend over to look under their bed, because of course that’s where they store snacks apparently. (And before anyone accuses her of hypocrisy, Artoria would like you to know that she does not hide any food in her room. If she gets snacks, she eats them all right away. No one can take away what has already been consumed.) “They’re like, nuts coated in chocolate, they’re pretty neat-”

“Ritsuka, are you possessed?”

Ritsuka pauses, for half a second. They straighten their back, casually. (Lies.; they only appear casual. Stress. Fear. Confusion. That’s more accurate.) “I’m sorry?”

“I said,” Artoria walks close to them, “Are you possessed? Do you need an exorcist? Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” They whip around to face her, waving their hands frantically. “No no no no to any of that!” Truth, truth, lie. “It’s not really- I mean, I guess it is, but I’m not- it’s not-” their gaze darts to the door, then the window, and at last the vents. “How did you even-?”

There are a lot of things wrong with Ritsuka. Their shadow is often too dark and too thick. Their weight is inconsistent, lighter at times and heavier at others. Their skin sometimes feels too smooth regardless of any hair or scar, as if they were wearing a film or an invisible cloth over their arms. But what veered Artoria away from there’s weird servant stuff going on into there is something REALLY wrong is much simpler:

there’s an echo when they speak.

Not a literal one, mind you. Not one she can hear. Ritsuka speaks in a perfectly normal way with a perfectly normal voice articulating perfectly normal words (if with a slight accent she cannot pinpoint.) But it’s an echo she can see. An echo in the lies, that reflect two contradicting intentions, an echo in overlapping lie and truth at once, an echo with no sound that constantly invade her sight, and after months of rattling her brain over what could be the cause of this the only thing Artoria could come up with was there is more than one person speaking at once.

Ritsuka sits on their bed, dragging a hand across their face. “Sorry. I’ve never had to explain that one before. I don’t… know where to start.”

Artoria sits next to him. “First thing first. Are you certain it’s not dangerous?”

“They’re helping me,” Ritsuka says, which is not a no. “In battle and such. They give me advice on battle formations and such.”

The sentence rings true, but it’s frayed at the edge, the way lies by omissions often are. And such. That can mean a lot, and such. “What else do they do?”

Ritsuka shrugs. They seem dead set on avoiding the question. “So this thing is dangerous.” Go figure. Ritsuka always curry the favors beautiful and deadly things. 

Artoria is willing to tolerate the likes of Douman or Koyanskaya, but she draws the line at being inside their head. As such, she gathers mana inside her palm, ready to-

“No no no!” Ritsuka grabs her wrist. “No exercising, no blowing shit up.”

Artoria raises an eyebrow. “If it’s hurting you, I’m not giving you much of a choice.”

“It’s not hurting me!” Truth (genuinely believed) lie (but you should know better.) “They just- sometimes it takes me a few times to get a fight right, that’s all. It’s not pleasant, but I’m grateful for the extra chances nonetheless.”

That’s a truth, but not one that makes much sense. What does that mean, a few tries? Artoria has fought by RItsuka’s side. They rarely get more than one try at a fight, for the simple reason that if they lost, they would be killed-

It clicks, not as a sudden realisation, but as a slow, growing horror that this would be something really fucked up. Oh, fuck, that could actually be it. Oh, FUCK, she thinks it might be it.

“Ritsuka,” she asks, very, very slowly, voice burning with ice, “are you telling me this thing rewinds time anytime you die.”

Ritsuka shifts uncomfortably and looks away.

“How many times.” When her demand is met with silence, Artoria reaches out to grab their arm. “How many times, Ritsuka.”

“I don’t know.” Truth (they lost count) truth (it never cared to count.) 

Anger flares in her guts like violent flames. She wants to hit. She wants to kill. She wants to chuck a bomb at this thing. Who does that? Who fucking does that?! Who would deny someone the simple escape route of death- who would force someone to keep going again and again and again and again through countless pains through endless suffering who would be cruel enough to force someone to live with the memory of being killed?

“It’s not like that,” Ritsuka says, because of fucking course they do. “They would let me go if I asked, I think. They’re only giving me this for as long as I wish for it. And,” they have a small smile, “I do want to live.”

So it’s some demon taking advantage of their desire for- what? Amusement? She grinds her teeth. She still wants it away from her friend. “What even is this thing?”

“They don’t really… speak. Not like people do. So I’m not quite sure.” Ritsuka tilts their head to the side. “I think they’re an Outer God. You know what these are, right?”

Vaguely. The Chaldean summoning ritual filled her on these sorts of things. The general concept of god is still one foreign to her, but if nothing else, she still remembers Cernunnos, still remembers this creature so massive it wasn’t even aware that it’d died yet. Granted, Ritsuka doesn’t need any help to get pumped full of curses, but that still doesn’t convince her that this thing should be allowed around any longer. “Yes. And this one seeks you as a vessel… because?”

Ritsuka is silent. For a moment, Artoria thinks they’ll dodge this question too, but before she can asks again, they answer: 

“They love a lot. I can tell. But… they’re a god of war, you know? They know nothing but battle. They can bring nothing but violence. They’re a herald of blood, but they want to be so much more than that. That’s what they want to use me for. I am fine with that.”

Ah.

For all her anger, Artoria cannot argue against that. She knows all about people who try to be more than what their purpose wants them to be.

“How can you tell it’s love?” She tries, a last-ditch attempt, even if she already knows it pointless. (That last tirade sounded like truth and truth.)

“I know all their emotions. They can’t speak, but they feel. Oh, Artoria, how they feel.” Ritsuka sets a hand on their chest, above their own heart. “They loathed Britain. That was annoying. When our feelings clash, it can be distracting. They love the servants. I love them too. When we feel the same, it echoes, it amplifies, it grows so much it sometimes spills. It’s not always better, but it is easier to cope with for me.”

That… explains a lot. About Ritsuka, as a person. “You did not hate Fairy Britain?”

“Oh, I did. But not to the point of wanting everyone dead.”

(That’s the thing about Ritsuka, isn’t it? When they see someone in a pickle, they try to save them. It’s not that they want to save people necessarily. It doesn’t matter if the person deserves to be saved, or if they’ll live long after being saved, or if they’re someone they like or dislike on a personal level. If someone can be saved, Ritsuka has to save them.)

(Then again, Artoria supposes she’s not much better. To each their star. To each their wish. To each their reason to doom themself.)

[joesalw]

First of all I just wanted to commend you for becoming a TS hate blog despite the annoying fangirl swarm you're probably going to face. You're truly doing the lord's work.

I saw that you said you were her a fan of hers but then realised who she was after her breakup with Joe. I was curious about how long you'd been a fan and how involved were you in the fandom and what was it that caused this 180? Was it one thing that just shook you out or was it little things added up?

For me, I had always considered myself more of a casual fan of her music but never got into the fandom side of it because I always thought of swifties as pretty fucking annoying. However, I've had mutuals through the years who were more in the fandom so I sort of observed from the outside. As for her as a person, I never went to bat for her but I always felt like I gave her a sense of grace and understanding despite her being 7 years older than me and far more privileged. For example, when people accused her of always playing the victim I always thought it was understandable because when you're young you often only see things from your own pov, but with age and maturity you start seeing the bigger picture.

My issues with her started in 2020, the year after she made a documentary where she shed her white women tears and proclaimed she wanted to be politically active and use her voice for good. But when the opportunity came with covid, BLM and the election she did less than the bare minimum, a couple of tweets and some cookies iirc. After that her shitty allyship continued to annoy me especially after that Ginny and Georgia tweet, but what was really grating on my nerves was the way her fanbase and the media were hailing her an artistic genius for the littlest things. She's always been one of the poster girls for white mediocrity in the entertainment industry but it was taken to whole new level with her directing her "short film". I don't know what makes good music, but I do know little more about movies and directors and all too well was just so meh and bland and basic and the fact that Sadie and Dylan are both brilliant actors yet their performances in that "film" were so lackluster tells me she does not have what it takes to be a director. Yet she was invited to one of those variety talks and was campaigning for a Oscar nomination? And will apparently direct a movie sometime in the future? Has the world lost it's fucking mind?

Anyways come 2023 to her dating a bigot and I realised just how much of a performance her "activism" has been and her going back to the same tricks of playing victim that made me realise it wasn't immaturity and age this is just who she is.

Sorry if this is tmi but I thought since I was asking for you story I'd tell you mine in a sense. I also have some completely unqualified armchair psychology takes on miss t if you're interested in hearing them. They're probably not "hot takes" or something someone somewhere hasn't already said about her but this was already too long for me to dump them on you unasked.

Hope you have a great day! X

I started fangirling her in 2016 when the whole snakegate thing happened. With reputation especially, when she wrote those monologues about her being comfortable being her ownself at the end of her 20s and wanting a normal life and privacy outside media scrutiny. Her talking about how she used her "taylor swift sqaud" to heal her past insecurities not knowing how it could affect someone who still doesn’t have that type of friendgroup, her deciding to keep her relationship private instead of making it a circus for the media. You know, you could see the personality growth in her at that time. To me she really felt like a very matured person.

Even though there were still lots of things (that you talked about) used to make me very uncomfortable, like that ginny and georgia tweet and her posting that black image of blm trend with THIRTEEN HEART EMOJIS (so embarrassing and weird?)

Moreover, I never liked any of her self directed music videos. Like those were so bland and boring and never fit with the music. But people still praising her and giving her vmas and shits was just a confirmation that nobody cares about art these days, they only want the clout from her name. Her music is also very boring. She writes about the same events in thousand different songs to milk the shit out of it. Like girl please move on!

But what made me actually unstan her was the whole shitshow she put up after her breakup with Joe. The person she talked so highly about in her whole discography was now a villain too. She went on a brought up a whole hate trend on Joe by making her friends unfollow him publicly.

SHE IS THE ONE WHO INSTIGATED THE WHOLE JOE ALWYN HATRED TREND.

You know no matter whatever someone does (his only fault was not wanting to marry her lol), nobody deserves to go through this type of media harassment. But Joe did. Joe is the person who saved her when she was having this kind of media treatment but later on SHE instigated the same type of hatred for him. That just proves how terrible she is as a human being. And not to forget she immediately started dating a vile, racist, islamophobe, bigot, piece of shit and said that was the best time of her life. She didn’t even acknowledge her wrong in the relationship on her breakup announcement (she acted unbrothered). She used Ice Spice to cover up her mess. I mean how many more reasons did i need after that?

Now in her travis era, she switched completely 180° saying being public is her real personality. She also brought back her squad pap walks. She is really feeding into the narrative that Joe kept her in basement. So like the MAIN thing that made me fall in love with her in the first place was all along a lie? She never matured? She never wanted to have privacy? She never valued a normal life? Her personality growth really went downhill to a shithole.

But after being so invested in her for 7 years, I can tell you that a breakdown is coming very soon and I will not feel bad for it at all!

[teaboot]

I love working in a team again, because working alone for so long can get a bit lonely, but I miss feeling normal, you know?

When you do everything by yourself, you can just get things done, and if you fuck up someone will tell you, and if you do good someone will tell you,and nothing else really matter except accomplishing the task. The job needs to be done, so you do it, and as long as it gets done, nobody looks too close at you.

Now that I'm with people again, everything I do is compared to the "normal" way of doing it. And even if nobody says anything at first, it does eventually come up anyways. Like a weird birthmark or scar that you can tell people are staring at.

When you're alone, you don't think about why you do things the way you do. You don't wonder why your brain works the way it does, or why you're different, and the unconscious habits you have aren't strange or annoying or in the way.

"Why do you do it like this, when it takes longer?"

"Can you stop doing this? It's driving me nuts."

"Would you stop putting this there?"

"You know that's not the right word, right?"

"Wow, they really don't like you."

People have the right to ask questions. I get that they try to understand, and it's not an attack. And I get everyone has little peeves that set them off, just like I do.

But it's so much easier to isolate, to stay alone, to hide from people forever and ever so I don't have to be reminded constantly that there are things my brain can't do, there are things I can't see or learn or understand, and that sometimes the little tricks and workarounds I've worked so hard on still fall a little short of the mark.

It's hard, hearing someone casually mention one of your many little deviancies, and not also hearing the old old memories attached in so many voices that say,

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"You're touched in the head."

"Are you retarded?"

"We're getting you evaluated. There's clearly something going on with you."

"Are you really that dense?"

"You have to be doing this on purpose. Nobody is that stupid."

"I truly think there's something wrong with you."

I like being who I am, when I'm alone.

Alone in a room isn't the same as being alone in a crowd.

[reigningqueenofwords]

The Stark Heir

Part 3 of Dropping In

Standing in front of your closet, you tilted your head. Tony had told you dinner would be ‘nice, but not fancy’. Which told you nothing. To you? Nice was fancy! “JARVIS?” You sighed. 

“Yes, miss?”  “What the hell does Tony mean by ‘nice, but not fancy’?” You hoped the AI would be some help. 

“I would think it's not casual, but not black tie.” He replied simply. “Did that help?” 

You let your head fall back. “Can you see if Nat is busy?” Maybe having her show you examples would help. This was a world you weren’t used to being in. So, what if what you picked wasn’t even what he would see as ‘nice’. You’d never had money to even think of yourself as dressing ‘fancy’. 

“She will be right there.” He alerted you, which was oddly calming. 

“Thank you.” You plopped on your bed and laid back. Your room was coming along, but it still didn’t completely feel like home. Not only that, but you needed to find a new main hobby. Tony had given you a credit card, so you were slowly building your own little library. You were only buying a couple books at a time, refusing to buy more until you’d finished those two. However, your main hobby in your universe? Had been writing fanfiction. A lot of it was Marvel, and you weren’t anywhere near okay writing about your new family. “Maybe I can get more into DC.” You muttered to yourself. While you’d always liked it, you just slightly preferred Marvel. “Or a new fandom.” You went on. Hearing a knock, you sat up. “Come in!” You called out. 

Nat stepped in with a smile. “JARVIS says you need clothes help?”

You nodded. “Nice but not fancy is confusing to someone who has never been able to afford fancy…” You said shyly. “And fashion has never been my thing.” 

She chuckled. “I don’t blame you. I love it, but what’s in and not in can give you whiplash.” Nat moved to sit next to you. “Did anything in your closet stick out?” 

“I’ll be honest. What he ordered is nothing like I would normally wear. I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong! I’m just a geeky kid. All those clothes remind me of the kids that teased me because I loved superheroes so much.” 

There was a soft look on her face. “Then how about we order something? Rush delivery is a perk living here.” She winked. “Then tomorrow we can sit down and order you clothes that you like.” 

“It won’t be rude to not wear what he ordered?” You asked. 

“Nah. And you can always play with them. Pair a shirt you love with some pants that he ordered.” She suggested. “That’s the best part of fashion. You can have fun with it.” Getting up, she went to your desk to get your laptop. “And this would be a good way for me to get to know you. I’m sure this was one hell of a shock.” 

“No. Not at all. Totally woke up that day thinking I’d be teleported to the universe of my favorite superheroes.” You snorted, making her laugh. “I’m glad I landed with you and not say…Deadpool. Love him, but I don’t think I’d do nearly as well.” 

Nat shook her head as she pulled up a local store’s website. “Who’s your favorite superhero? And are dresses okay? Or you a pants only kinda girl?” She glanced at you. 

“Hawkeye, but Iron Man and Captain America are tied for second, and you are third. That varies, though. Sometimes you’re number one. That’s just today.” You shrugged. “But Tony is my favorite to write.” You admitted without thinking. “And…dresses are okay.” Your cheeks were a light pink color. 

For a moment, she said nothing as she clicked the ‘dresses’ section. “What do you mean he’s your favorite to write?” There was no judgment in her voice.

“I wrote fanfiction in my universe. Don’t worry, not writing for any of you anymore. That would be beyond weird…” You scrunched your nose. “Oh, that one isn’t bad.” You pointed to a simple dark green dress.  

Clicking it, she glanced at you. “You like to write?” Her eyes went back to the screen. “Oh, this dark blue would look amazing on you.” 

“Then we can get that one.” You smiled. “And yeah, I really do. I’ll probably shift to writing about DC now.” You’d also be starting all your accounts over, and it was something you’d been putting off. A new email, new twitter, new instagram, new tumblr…everything. 

“Well, when you do get back into writing, I’d like to read it. If that’s okay.” She had added the dress to the cart, and moved on to shoes. “Flats, small heels, or regular heels?” 

“Once I get a new writing account set up I’ll give you the link.” You agreed, feeling that it would be okay. “Flats. I tried to learn to walk in heels, but it didn’t go well.”

“I’ll teach you. We’ll go to an actual store so you can try some on, though. This way you know if you ever need to wear them for an event. Afterall, you’re going to be the Stark heir.” She reminded you gently. 

[lumineescente]

seungjin drabble

i'm in a very good mood tonight so let me share this drabble i wrote the other day between midnight and 1am while watching New Girl and thinking damn this should not be Jess and Nick, this should be Seungmin and Hyunjin (they share NO similarities except my lizard brain picturing them everywhere)

tags: alcohol game / kissing / pining (lots) (is it a seungjin written by me without pining?)

sorry for the mistakes etc. etc.

oh and i also posted this on twitter

Hyunjin can hear all their friends cheering for them to kiss from the opposite side of the door, his whole body is combusting. Not only is it an extremely embarrassing situation but the worst is the fact that he has been dreaming of kissing Seungmin for months now but never had he thought that it would be in this situation. 

He had imagined it after a cute date maybe, if he ever had the strength to ask out Seungmin for real. Or maybe it could have involved a bit of alcohol, for courage, but definitely not a drinking game on a night he was trying to actually have sex with someone else, and Seungmin is in a more or less committed relationship with another man. 

“We don’t have to do that,” he says with a laugh that he hopes sounds casual. 

Seungmin sighs and the voices outside the room chant even louder, “well…” 

He chews on his lower lip, and gosh why can’t Hyunjin stop staring at it? 

“I can kiss you on the cheek and say we kissed? Take a picture of it,” he offers. Even the thought of his lips on Seungmin’s lip is enough for him to drive him crazy but Seungmin really does not seem like he wants to be kissed by him. 

And Hyunjin does not want to lose his first kiss with Seungmin through a stupid game. It was supposed to be a trick to kiss Changbin so Felix would stop trying to steal his one night stand. It unfortunately backfired in the worst way possible.

“That’s a good idea,” Seungmin smiles. He feels like he is about to melt onto a puddle of love because of how cute he looks. “Kiss on the cheek, it is.” 

(He has admitted now weeks ago that this is not a normal way to feel about your roommate platonically)

He buries all these thoughts deep down and takes out his phone. Seungmin awkwardly gets closer to him and quickly Hyunjin can feel his warmth in his personal space, he internally screams. 

“Why is it so weird?” Seungmin laughs, “we live together, we’ve seen each other through everything but kissing you on the cheek is suddenly so awkward.” 

“Right,” he swallows with difficulty, trying to focus on unlocking his phone and opening the camera app. His ears are ringing so loudly that he barely hears the chant anymore. “You ready?” 

“Should I…? Kiss you?” 

Hyunjin really hopes he is not blushing too much or that alcohol has made Seungmin completely oblivious. Which is possible considering everyone and their mothers know about Hyunjin’s delirious crush on him, but Seungmin does not. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take the picture.”

He waves his phone like a loser and Seungmin giggles at it. He takes another step closer, “ready?” it is a whisper now almost on his neck, and it really is torture at this point. He just nods and puts the phone up, he tries to focus on the phone and not on the fact that Seungmin has to get on his tippy toes for his mouth to reach Hyunjin’s cheek and then the feeling of his lips on his skin. His lips are so soft and warm, and Hyunjin needs all his focus to actually take the picture and not just let himself appreciate the moment. It only lasts a few seconds because those smartphones really are quick to take a picture and Seungmin immediately breaks the contact when it is done. 

Hyunjin stares dumbfounded at the wall in front of him, not even controlling the smile on his lips and the overall excitement at the fact that it might have been the closest physically it has ever been to Seungmin.

“Is the picture okay?” 

“Mh?” 

He glances around to see Seungmin looking at him with amusement in his eyes, “they’ll lose their voices if they keep screaming like that, we should send them the picture now.” 

“Oh! Yeah right.” 

He quickly sends the picture to the group chat they have. For a second there is a silence on the other side of the door and he feels relief and a bit of regret, sure, at the idea of being freed from this situation. 

“THIS IS NOT A KISS!!” Felix yells with his deep voice, and Hyunjin will make sure he is going to pay for that. The chanting comes back even stronger. 

Seungmin sighs, “IT IS!” 

“NO!” 

Hyunjin stays still, paralyzed. Seungmin groans. 

“Fuck,” he whispers and it feels like it is the first time he hears his roommate curse like that. 

He shakes it off and bangs loudly at the door, “hey, guys,” he says loudly, “that’s enough, just let us out!” 

Everyone boos at that, he exhales.

“You agreed to the game at first, you have to play!” 

He turns to Seungmin apologetically, “I’m sorry.” 

It is his fault after all, he wanted to kiss Changbin at first like that, he had not expected for Seungmin to be pulled, it was just him being horny for a guy he had just met that had brought all this on Seungmin. 

“Let’s just do it.”

“What?” 

“Let’s kiss, this is nothing right? We just lost a game.” 

“But,” he mutters pathetically, anxiety piling inside him like legos, “uh.” 

The way Seungmin looks at him, waiting for him to do or say something but Hyunjin does not know why. 

“Friends kiss all the time for fun,” Seungmin keeps explaining and it is logical and rational, exactly like Seungmin is, “it does not mean anything.” 

Except nothing is logical and rational in Hyunjin, and surely not the fact that he wants to kiss Seungmin but not because it is a game, and not because it does not mean anything. 

“I’m not sure…” he starts. 

His roommate tilts his head, “why?” 

“Because,” he stutters in his words, “I just…” 

Seungmin stares at him with even more expectation and it makes him lose it completely, panic completely taking over his brain. 

“I don’t want it to happen this way!” he almost screams out. 

He immediately regrets it when he sees the way the other man's eyes change and confusion is readable on his face. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” Hyunjin chokes out. He turns around to the door and starts banging against, “hey, open the door, now, this isn’t funny anymore!” 

Seungmin grabs his arm when he is about to hit the door again, forcing him to turn around. He had never thought the latter could have this much strength, “Hyunjin, answer me, what is this about? That you don’t want us to kiss that way?”

“Because it’s uncomfortable for both of us,” he tries to justify himself, “that’s… that’s what I meant! They should not force us to do anything we don’t want.” 

“I don’t think this is what you meant.” 

“Well, it is,” he retorts before going back to banging on the door, “Felix!” 

It hurts his fist but at this point he would do anything that means he would be able to get out of this situation. His heart is racing in his chest and the alcohol is not helping with his panic attack, making it hard to breath, even harder to think. All his body just begs to get out. 

“Hyunjin..” Seungmin whispers behind him but it is barely heard as the door finally opens. 

Felix looks at them with a sheepish smile, “you’re both losers for that, you know?” 

“I know,” Hyunjin just answers and then immediately rushes to the kitchen. 

At some point Hyunjin loses track of the night even more than before the kiss incident. He knows Seungmin’s boyfriend but not-really-boyfriend arrives and they leave to his room, and it only makes Hyunjin drink more. Felix side eyes him all the time but he rejects every tentative that he tries to talk to him. Of course, Felix ends up making out with Changbin and Hyunjin is not even jealous about that because all he can think about is Seungmin. He wants to disappear. Eventually everyone leaves. 

“So,” Felix sits down next to him at their kitchen table, “what happened exactly?” 

Hyunjin groans. The alcohol makes him dizzy. 

“I thought all you wanted to do was kiss Seungmin.” 

“I hate you so much right now.” 

Felix puts away all the glasses that are still filled with liquor away from Hyunjin’s grip. 

“I want to, of course, but not like that!” 

He immediately puts his hand in front of his mouth, glancing around the bedroom corridors but no one comes out. 

“It’s Seungmin,” he goes on, this time whispering, “I don’t want to kiss him because of a stupid game, I want to kiss him because I like him and because he likes me!” 

He moves his hand toward the corridor, “but he does not,” he whimpers, “and I panicked because he was saying stuff like let’s kiss and I told him that I didn’t want it to happen like that. I’m stupid.”

“You’re not,” Felix tells him empathically, “you’re a romantic.” 

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, it makes his head hurt, “now he knows and it will change everything.” 

“I’m really sorry,” his best friend says, “I didn’t think this would lead to that.” 

“It’s not your fault, we were playing.” 

“Still,” he pats his arm with affection, “for what it’s worth I think it’ll be okay.” 

“Whatever, I’m going to sleep.” 

He gets up, waves Felix goodnight and goes toward his bedroom. He is about to open the door of his own when Seungmin’s door opens. He closes it carefully behind him.

“Hey,” Seungmin whispers in a sleepy voice. 

“Did I wake you up?” he asks, trying very hard not to look directly at him and his cute pajama set. 

“No, actually I was…” 

Hyunjin waits a moment for the end of that sentence but nothing comes. 

“It’s nothing,” Seungmin ends up saying, “you should sleep.” 

It is like his brain is not the one controlling his muscles because when Seungmin turns away, Hyunjin grabs his wrist and pulls him close. For a second neither of them move, he can feel Seungmin’s heart beating under his chest. He dares to move his fingers from his wrist to his hand and Seungmin lets him do it so he gets a bit bolder and tilts slightly his head forward. 

He is not sure why he is doing that, maybe all the alcohol he has drunk all night finally reached its peak and this is the thing he will be mortified of tomorrow morning. But right now, he does not care  because he feels even more intoxicated by how close Seungmin is to him, and the fact that he is not moving away. 

“You can,” Seungmin whispers very quietly. 

Hyunjin does not think any more and he grabs his chin with his other hand and crashes his lips against Seungmin’s. It is not exactly like the first kiss he had hoped for with him but it still feels like a fire is burning in his body, and the way Seungmin reacts makes him even more eager to deepen the kiss. During the time of the kiss the rest of the world suddenly disappears, nothing else is real except how Seungmin’s body feels near him, how his lips taste. Everything is warm, everything is exciting and soft. 

When their kiss ends, they stare at each other again for a while, breathless, lips swollen. Seungmin pulls away.

“Goodnight, Hyunjin,” he says. 

Hyunjin watches him go back to his room, feeling like the world has collapsed around him now that he can not hold onto Seungmin. 

[whereismyhat5678]

I know this is weird to dump on y’all but can I vent for just a few minutes? If this is even considered a vent since it’s not anything sad, I just wanna get this off my chest real quick.

(If you don’t want to read the essay I wrote scroll to the bottom and just read the TLDR 😅)

I like being a woman. I do. I like using she/her pronouns. I like wearing pretty feminine stuff. And in general I just like to be feminine. I’m happy being a girl.

But I just always wanted to just- try on a suit- JUST JUST HEAR ME OUT FOR A SECOND-

I wanna look like a dapper young gentlemen- like a very posh man that wears like- like one of those eyeglass thingys-

Like this fellow right here:

I also wanna have a mustache, LIKE THOSE ONES THAT ARE FLUFFY AND COVER YOUR MOUTH- the- THE PAINTERS BRUSH MUSTACHE!! Or examples like: The lampshade, the handlebar, the Hungarian, OR THE IMPERIAL (that one’s GODAM GORGEOUS-)

But more about the suit- I wanna- I PICTURE myself in a black slick suit with a white undershirt and a silk like tie, with nice shiny black buttons and some white gloves to match the undershirt. To show sophistication. With one of those top hats OH I LOVE THOSE!!

I’d like to see it on me but I wanna look more masculine in it like- like what I just said I wanna have a mustache and OH such a deep voice!! I wanna be those narrator voices that are soothing and just, you can fall asleep to them.

I wanna look dapper, I wanna look snazzy, I WANT TO WEAR A SUIT. I want to have a cane that I can lean onto while standing, I want other men to talk to me like if I were just another guy.

I WANT TO BE ONE OF THOSE GUYS- that are like, buff but also a bit fat since, ngl I would genuinely like to be a fluffy guy, AND REALLY TALL and look down at people. I want to be tall too not just as a man but as me because I just wanna be the size of my dad. At LEAST 6’0 that’d be AMAZING.

I WOULDN’T JUST WANNA WEAR A SUIT EITHER- I wanna be a gentlemen that wears warm cream colors and a nice soft brown sweater with a beanie and THOSE BOOTS. (You know the ones I’m talking about-). I wanna have big legs and wear those jeans that look HUGE to other people but are normal for you cuz you’re just a big guy! I wanna wear that, THAT AMAZING SMELLING COLOGNE GOD DO I WANT TO WEAR COLOGNE.

Okay- to wrap things up- sometimes, I just want to look masculine AND IF ANYTHING IF I CAN’T LOOK MASCULINE AND APPEALING (and smoke cigars like one of them guys in the movies, drink alcohol or beer even though I don’t like it- OH AND HOW HAVE I NOT MENTIONED WANTING TO HAVE THAT MAN GOLFER FIT-)

OKAY BUT REAL QUICK- I’d want to have like A BUNCH OF PAPER BOY HATS (I already wear them and I LOVE THEM SO MUCH- but if I looked like a man?? 🤯🤯) with like different colors to have one each day to match the shirt I’m wearing- with brown pointed at the tip shoes that are shiny and SO SO HANDSOME!!! I wanna look handsome I want someone to tell me I look handsome in like a vest and a red tie with a paper boy hat and nice cologne and A GOD DAMN SOPHISTICATED ASS MUSTACHE!- And when I go golfing with buddies I have the casual golfer fit, BECAUSE THEY JUST SO NICE AND SPIFFY AND HANDSOME I WANNA LOOK LIKE THAT!!!

I love being a woman, I REALLY DO- I like being a woman because in the future I wanna look beautiful in pretty dresses and nice necklaces and pretty shiny hair (short obviously-) and cute glasses to match my cute outfits! Heck I wanna wear some of these dresses:

Vintage I know- but you gotta admit they look GORGEOUS!!!

And I’ll admit I’m completely fine with being a woman because of this! I wanna look pretty in dresses, be called beautiful, have a dazzling outfit to make myself look even prettier!

But I also just, wanna look handsome! Wear a suit. Have a mustache. Have a nice deep voice and- funny story- I remember I saw an episode of Steven Universe where Pearl was wearing a suit and I thought she looked AMAZING!!

I ended up telling my mom that when I got to Prom I want to have a suit, which my mom laughed and jokingly said I would look like a lesbian. Of course I don’t like woman like that, I think they’re all beautiful but just not like that. But in general I thought to myself I just wanna see myself in a suit, a tie, nice shoes, a nice hat, with cologne. And I again don’t even have to look masculine, I just want to look handsome and spiffy!

I started liking the idea of having masculine facial hair because I can’t stop thinking about if I did have those things, they would be AWESOME!!

I’m sorry if I ended up writing too much or confusing you with my words, so in long short of it:

I like being a woman, wouldn’t mind wearing a suit, wouldn’t mind having a masculine voice features hair etc, and I wanna look handsome. But I still like dressing femininely.

I’m sorry for the long talk, I just wanted to spill my mind a bit, nothing much to it though 🤷‍♀️