#you know the game is good when you're writing about the damn rabbit of all things

[aproposuranism]

Her mother reads to her every night from a set of books with a blue-jacketed bunny on the front (which your friend reads to you too, holding you up so you can blink languidly at the pictures), and chides her gently not to baby you so much. And while her father reunites you every time she plays too rough and breaks something irreparable inside of you, he never tells her how to be any kinder.

The life and death(s) of Snowball.

[cringefailvox]

hiii!

for this ask game:

across all your fics, 4, 5 and 12!🩷

4. if the fic required it, what did you research in order to write it?

i researched so much fashion terminology for volta that i didn't even end up USING. but now i know what all the names for the different styles of dresses are and how best to accessorize them, so there's that. i also researched (fell down a rabbit hole) about the radio corporation of america and navy censorship of radio during wwi for strange perfections, all for a single paragraph of alastor dialogue. worth it; fascinating stuff!!

5. did you outline the fic?

most certainly not <3 the extent of the outlining i do is jotting down a note about how something ends, but sometimes i don't even do that—i'm very much at my best when i just let a story happen organically. outlining has never worked for me because if i plot it out too much, at a certain point my brain goes "oh, hey, you wrote down everything you wanted to say! you're done :)" and then suddenly i can't actually WRITE the damn thing. every wip i've abandoned has been because i planned too much in advance, which unfortunately makes me not very good at twists, callbacks, or thematic coherence over longer works. i'm killer at oneshots though.

12. what program(s) did you use to write and edit?

google docs!! i'm most familiar with it and i like its format the most. i have tried other programs like writing directly into ao3/ffnet, scrivener, workflowy, etc but none of them have been as accessible and reliable as docs for me personally!

[faulty-writes]

LEMME IN!

okay so i had this idea, i tried it w my friends, it gave me like some fun idea, its like paper passing but with your lips, when the paper falls you accidentally kiss someone, (my paper didnt fall, 😪.)

So it gave me some idea, can you do it with a highschool bully!mirko x reader and a bakugo x reader? You can do one if you please!

But delete this ask if you wont! Its all good! Thank you madam faulty!

[ I laughed when I read "LEMME IN!" that was the perfect introduction line. But no worries, you're in. You're the second request I got. So I looked this game up and it sounds spicy, interesting, and near impossible. But don't we all love a challenge? I can most certainly write a little scenario for this game with our bunny girl and hot-headed explosion boy. ]

"Why is she here!?" you frantically asked upon spotting Rumi otherwise known as your personal hell angel at the party you were currently attending. "Awe, what's a matter there? Too afraid to approach the rabbit girl?" Keigo commented, placing his chin on your shoulder with a smirk.

You placed your hands on your hips glaring at him. "Hardy har har, you're so funny," you replied sarcastically before looking back at Rumi who proceeded to purposely spill punch over someone. "Why don't you go talk to her? I'll be your wingman," he joked, making you roll your eyes.

"No," you said, becoming slightly alarmed when he pressed a hand against your back forcing you forward. "Sure you do!" you tried digging your feet into the floor, but it was no use as he continued to push you.

'You're a terrible wingman,' you thought bitterly and a cold chill ran through your body as soon as Rumi's eyes locked on you. She grinned and got that all-too-familiar sadistic look in her eye. "Well, well, well," she said, crossing her arms.

"If it isn't pretty face and..." she paused, looking at Keigo from head to toe, "birdie," she concluded with a laugh. "Mm," you wanted to step away, but Keigo kept his hand on your back. There was no way he was going to let you keep running away from your problems.

"Hiya there, how's it going?" he asked casually, waving his hand before looking at you. "What do you know Y/n was just talking about you," he lied, ignoring the way you glared at him. Just what the hell was he doing!?

"Oh?" Rumi's furry ears stood up straight and she grinned taking a step toward you. "Is that right, pretty face!?" she exclaimed, grabbing the front of your shirt and yanking you forward. You cried out, almost stumbling over your own two feet before looking at her with a hint of fear.

However, this only seemed to make her happier. She leaned closer, and several silver strands fell across her face making her red eyes stand out. She parted her lips, prepared to speak when someone shouted, "It's time for the paper passing game!" which distracted her.

"Paper passing game, huh?" she said, slowly gazing back at you with a growing smirk. "Come on pretty face!" she demanded, dragging you away while you frantically waved your arms about. "Takami!" you screamed, but he only smiled.

"You can thank me later!" he shouted, making you growl. 'Damn him!' you thought before Rumi stepped to the side and pulled you forward only to purposely release you. Another cry came when you lost your balance and fell flat on the floor.

She crossed her arms, smirking happily before focusing on the one who announced that the game was about to start. "Huh?" you lifted your head, deciding it was safer to remain on the floor than actually stand up and be within Rumi's vicinity.

The game involved someone taking a piece of paper and sucking on it gently to keep it stuck to their lips, then they needed to turn to the person next to them and attempt to pass the said piece of paper using only their mouth.

The catch was that if the paper fell, the two attempting to do the pass had to exchange a kiss. "Oh no..." you said, your eyes shrinking in fear before you felt someone grab the back of your shirt collar and hollered when you were forced back on your feet.

"Let's go pretty face!" Rumi screamed, dragging you over to the circle that was forming. Once there, she let go of you and leaned down to whisper, "Move and I'll beat your ass," into your ear which was more than enough motivation for you to remain still.

"Here Y/n, why don't you start?" a familiar voice said and you turned to see Keigo walking over to you, holding out a single piece of red paper. Despite your heart racing and your cheeks flushing at the very thought of anyone touching your lips even through a piece of paper, you glared at him.

"Heh, what?" he questioned, but you could always yell at him later. You snatched the paper from his hand and looked at it. 'How the hell am I supposed to...' your thoughts shattered when Rumi screamed "Hurry the hell up pretty face!" causing you to jump and almost drop the paper.

In a rare display of courage, you stomped your foot against the floor and screamed back "Fine!" before placing the piece of paper against your lips. Sucking in your cheeks, you slowly turned to her. Shuttering when you saw the smirk she was wearing, it was hard to decipher if she was happy or just plain evil.

"Well?" she leaned closer, "Let's get this over with!" she said and despite wanting to tell her off, your eyes widened when you felt her mouth against the paper. It dawned on you just then that it could break, this was especially evident when her tongue began to probe the said piece of paper.

However, you weren't determined to lose and leaned forward, tilting your head just so, and gently began blowing in an effort to get the paper to stick to her lips. Unknown to you this was not what she wanted and she furrowed her brows, trying to think of how to sabotage your turn.

Just as you began to pull away, she lifted her foot slamming it on top of yours causing you to scream out in pain. The piece of paper fluttered to the floor and Rumi grinned in victory before roughly grabbing your shoulders.

"What's a matter pretty face, can't even play this simple game right?" she mocked, ignoring the concerned stares of everyone else around. She was only focused on one thing and that was sharing the consequence of having failed to complete the pass.

"W-what the hell are you-" before you said anything more, you found yourself desperately wrapping your arms around her neck as she dipped you. All the blood rushed to your face and a surprised gasp came when you felt her warm soft lips against yours.

They parted slightly, and soon you felt her tongue slide into your mouth making you freeze up. You pressed your hands against her chest, trying to pull away. She tasted like carrots with the slightest hint of beer.

"Heh!" when she broke the kiss, she grinned just before dropping you. Once again you hit the floor and found yourself groaning, now you had pain in your back and foot. You glanced at Rumi who lifted her hand up to her mouth.

"I want to play another round!" she declared, wagging her tail before leaning over you. "What do you say pretty face?" she teased and you began silently cursing a certain red-winged individual for having gotten you into this situation.

"This is stupid!" he screamed as he stood in the large circle with some of his classmates. Ashido had insisted they play a stupid paper passing game that looked like two people exchanging spit. "Aw, come on Bakubro!" Eijirou said, snaking his arm around the other's neck.

"Get the hell off of me!" Katsuki snapped in response, only causing the redhead to laugh. "Y/n will be playing," he said, pointing a lazy finger toward you although you were busy talking to Ashido and looking somewhat distressed.

"So what!?" he replied, baring his teeth like a wild animal. Eijirou grinned, keeping his arm around the angry blond. "I heard they have a little thing for you," he commented wiggling his eyebrows and watching Katsuki roll his eyes in response. He didn't care much for rumors and it didn't matter if they were true or not.

Nothing would distract him from his goal of becoming a hero and yeah even if he wanted a family someday, that was going to happen after he took the number one hero spot in Japan. He crossed his arms, giving a soft "Pff," which seemed to satisfy Eijirou enough for him to step away.

"Come on! It'll be fun, you can even start the game!" Ashido insisted, grabbing your wrist and dragging you toward the circle despite your frantic protests. "Here, stand here!" she said, positioning you next to none other than Katsuki.

Your heart pounded in your chest, yes you did like him for whatever reason. But there was no way you could actually go through with this, right!? Ashido wouldn't really make you face your feelings like this, would she!?

It was safe to say you were in internal despair and could only watch as she walked over and took her place between Kyoka and Kaminari. "Now, you all know the rules!" she said, pressing her hands together with a happy grin.

'Rules, what rules!?' you frantically thought, but luckily she gave a brief review. "You can only use your mouth to pass the paper, if you use your hands you're out!" she declared, throwing her arms into the air. "Oh, and if you end up dropping the paper, the two players have to kiss!" she said looking at you with slanted eyes.

You trembled in response, 'Why is that look so menacing!?' you screamed inside your head. "Y/n said they wanted to go first!" Ashido announced, causing several heads to turn your way. "W-what!? N-no I never s-said that I-" your words were interrupted when she then placed her hands on her hips and gave a dramatic sigh.

"Fiiiiiine!" she whined. "I'll go first, give me the paper," she said, flexing her fingers. Tsuyu was kind enough to hand her said paper and you watched in amazement as the game began, Ashido appeared to stick the piece of paper to her lips and turned to Kaminari who leaned forward and pressed his lips to the opposite side of the paper.

"Wait...they're going..." you glanced around the circle, realizing that Katsuki would be the one to initiate your turn which meant you had to lean over and...oh no! Your cheeks instantly flushed, and you debated about abandoning the game, turning around, and making some excuse like you had to use the bathroom or something.

Then again Ashido would never forgive you if you did that and you were a hero student, surely there'd be more terrifying challenges you'd have to face than almost kissing the one you liked. Eijirou successfully grasped the paper with his lips and passed it on to the next person who just so happened to be Katsuki.

Once he had the piece of paper against his lips, he turned to you. His eyebrows were slanted in their usual angry position and he roughly grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to step closer to him. Yeah, the rules said no hands but who gives a damn. He wasn't using them to cheat, was he?

"Uh..." your heart continued to pound in your chest and your cheeks were probably as red as those gorgeous pair of eyes you found yourself staring into. You could hear him mumble something from behind the piece of paper, and while you couldn't make it out you were more than certain he was telling you to hurry up.

The fact that there were multiple eyes on you didn't help your hesitation, but regardless you leaned forward trying to gather your courage. Closing your eyes, you pressed your lips against the paper. However, you were having a bit of difficulty getting it to stick to your lips even after moistening them with your tongue.

That angry mumbling grew louder and soon enough you felt both of his hands on your shoulders and his nails digging into your flesh. You winced softly, trying to lean back to tell him he was making you a bit uncomfortable but he leaned forward, forcefully pressing the paper against your lips.

"W-wait a min-" before you could finish, Katsuki gave a deep growl and leaned his head back. Before you registered what had happened, you found yourself on the floor. He was at his limit with patience and slammed his head against yours in an effort to try and get you to take the piece of paper.

But this resulted in your classmates gasping as they watched you hit the floor, luckily you were still conscious but you swear you saw stars and closed your eyes to make them go away and to ease your now aching forehead.

Ashido quickly ran over to you as Katsuki spit the piece of paper out, letting it flutter to the floor without a care. "What the hell Bakugou!?" she screamed, kneeling by your side to make sure you were at least still breathing.

"Yeah dude, that was a little uncalled for," Kaminari said causing Katsuki to grind his teeth together. "Shut the hell up!" he snapped as several of your other classmates approached you. "Well, now you have to kiss them twice!" Ashido declared and Katsuki looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

"What?" he replied, "You knocked them out!" she explained and you resisted the urge to giggle as you continued to lay there motionless with your eyes closed. "So you need to kiss their forehead since you headbutted them and you need to kiss them on the lips because the piece of paper fell!" he rolled his eyes.

A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he stomped his foot. "Fine dumbass!" he snapped, lowering himself to his knees. He then pressed his hands against the floor and loomed over you, hearing the way you breathed.

"Mm..." he raised his eyebrow, suspecting that you weren't completely unconscious but regardless, he closed his eyes and leaned forward pressing his lips against your forehead. Your hair felt soft and he noticed your skin was slightly warmer than it should be.

Your heart accelerated and butterflies fluttered in your stomach as soon as those lips touched your forehead. But then you felt his hand slapping the side of your cheek lightly. "Wake the hell up! I know you're not unconscious, damn it!" you were tempted to open your eyes, but instead, you forced yourself to remain still.

"Maybe if you kissed them they'd wake up, like sleeping beauty," Ashido suggested, although even she was uncertain if you were just pretending to be unconscious or if you actually were. Katsuki looked at her with an expression that read 'really?' before turning back to you.

With a sigh, he leaned forward and closed his eyes once more. When he pressed his lips against yours he noticed that they twitched in response and before he could pull away, your hands came up and fisted into his hair.

"MMM!" his scream was muffled against your lips as you deepened the kiss while his arms frailed about. You let out a cry when his hand eventually pressed against your face and he used it as leverage to pull away, gasping for air.

"What the hell you shitty nerd?!" he snapped and you finally opened your eyes, letting out a laugh even as he glared at you. Ashido pressed her hands against her mouth, seemingly beaming at the way you had tricked Katsuki and wishing she had taken a picture or video of it.

"This game is stupid!" he stumbled back to his feet and walked away. "Wait a minute!" Eijirou called after him before giving chase and Kaminari followed his lead. "If you try that again, I'm gonna blast your damn face off!" he screamed, and you knew he was referring to you.

Still, you couldn't help but smile and sat up on the floor. "Were you really pretending to be unconscious?" Ashido questioned and you pressed a finger to your lips, indicating for her to keep quiet and to keep it a secret.

[foxsoulcourt]

i just sent u the earlier ask (about reading ur bookmarks), but i see u haven't bookmarked my fav jeremy/jean fic EVER. perhaps u read it and did not like it, but on the off chance u haven't seen it, it is "playing on" by flybbfly . (also the author's newest J/J fic , the end of the world, which has them as exes but pretending to be together for laila and Alvarez's wedding, is also a big fav of mine).

Dear Nonny + fellow JereJean fan (part 2 of 2),

THANK YOU for bringing up playing on + the end of the world by @wilsherejack here on Tumblr / flybbfly on AO3.

Forgive me, but may I speak plainly?

My initial response to this message was to LAUGH OUT LOUD + refer to you as a sweet summer child because, OHMYGOODNESS, Y E S, I read playing on WHILE IT WAS BEING UPDATED. Let me tell you: it was an E x P e R i E n C e. A *%!ING excruciating EXPERIENCE!

Before Red Rabbits was a fandom wide event, during the first seven+ months of 2018 many of us were riding the up, down + all around roller coaster 🎢 that was the WORK IN PROGRESS CALLED PLAYING ON. I can't remember which chapter prompted several readers to threaten mutiny because those two humans just.weren't.getting it. Thank goodness wisherejack l o v e d our crankiness, which made the whole experience even more fun.

So, yes, I read AND ABSOLUTELY LOVED playing on.

Even printed it out!

But, you're correct, I never bookmarked it, nor made a Tumblr post for it. Here's what I can offer you from an old post

playing on (M, 142k, 2018) - There’s a reason this is one of the most recommended JereJean works: it’s so damned good. @wilsherejack writes Exy games exquisitely well, her writing is economical + she knows how to write a slow burn, that’s for sure! Plus, there are playlists for the work and...another favourite aspects of her writing...most of the characters are people of colour. 

Thanks to your ask guess who went from reading your post to reminiscing to re-reading this fine piece of fanfiction, all within 24 hours? 😉 When I finish it this time around I WILL bookmark it + post that here.

💜 Love,

Foxsoulcourt

P.S. I'm glad you found the end of the world too. Gahhhhh, that one nearly broke my heart. If you haven't already read flybbfly's full catalogue of AFTG, 10/10 recommend it.

[lessyandmina]

I was tagged by the lovely @nsfwitchy (Thank you! Love you, dear. 🥰😘)

Your name: Lessy is the name. Aka light sage, black widow, the Sparda family therapist 😘.

Your Age: 36 (37 in six months) Damn, I'm old, lol

Your First Fandom(s): Oh gosh. That's a lot to think of 🤔 The first animes are Sailor Moon, DBZ, Yu yu Hakusho, and Yu-Gi-Oh (to this day) and the games are Bloody Roar, mortal kombat, Marvel vs. Capcom, along with Mario and Donkey Kong.

Your Current Fandom(s): Legend of Zelda (since 98), Devil May Cry (since 01), Gotham (started in 2014, but stopped due to work and now rewatched 4 months ago and loved it ever since), and Gundam Wing (since 00)along with DC and Marvel comics.

How Did You First Get Into Fandom?: 😳 Oh wow. Ever since I was in elementary school. I guess it was my destiny to be an autistic nerd 🤓 🤪.

How Long Have You Been Engaging With Fandom Spaces?: 🤔 30 long years. 22 when you go down the rabbit hole. *hint hint*

How Often Do You Read Fanfics?: When I was 15 years old in Germany, my old friends introduced me to fanfics of my favorite series. Most of them are raunchy af. I've been reading them ever since.

Top 3 Characters From Your Current Fandom(s):

Gotham:

Jerome

Jeremiah

Bruce

Let me add one more: 514a

Gundam Wing:

Heero Yuy

Chang Wufei (I'm giving him my last name because he's my older brother)

Quatre R. Winner

Devil May Cry:

Vergil

V (Vergil's counterpart)

Lady

Legend of Zelda:

Princess Zelda

Queen Urbosa

Princess Midna

Have You Ever Written A Fic For A Fandom? if so, shout it out!:

Why yes. Yes, I have. For those who don't know, I am a huge cross-world fanatic. Plus, I added my oc characters to the mix. The one I continue to write is called Gundam May Cry: Breath of the Wild. But right now, I am doing my rough draft of my Gotham fanfic that is based on Devil May Cry references. That is coming soon.

Have You Ever Drawn Fanart For A Fandom?:

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 I couldn't even draw a stick finger to save my life!!

Share A Personal Headcanon That You Feel Very Strongly About:

My goodness. I'm just gonna go ahead and say it : Deep down inside, Bruce Wayne has some strong feelings about Jeremiah Valeska. He's lying to himself and Jeremiah when he said "you mean nothing to me." Like Bruce!! Why are you lying?

you're trying to convince a friend to get into your current fandom(s) with you. What Episode, Clip, Or Scene Are You Showing Them?: Jerome and Jeremiah double insanity on YouTube.

and finally, What Does Fandom Mean To You?:

It means everything to me. I get to share them with my friends here and on all the other social media(except for Facebook because fuck them, that's why.). That's the perks of being a nerd and a cute one to be in fact.

Now I'm tagging @apologies-from-jerome-valeska @lifeaftermeteor @dmbakura @jeremiah-va1eska @irisbleufic

By the way, if you guys have already been tagged, I apologize!! You don't have to respond to it again.

[jimlingss]

It's B from @bang-tan-bitches and I would like to request a yandere fic. It can be BTS OT7 x reader or BTS member of your choice x reader. Similar to your amazing isekai story i would like something similar(a long one shot or a multi-chapter, your choice). Whether YN transmigrates to a game or a novel (not as a villain but maybe as a cannon fodder side character that has little importance to the story and just wants to lay low) but YN captures the attention of the love interest(s) and shit starts getting weird, intense, uncomfortable. Maybe it causes the supposed female lead to turn into the villain, maybe it causes the love interest(s) to turn into the villain(s). Maybe YN realizes that something is wrong with the story/game but can't figure it out. Idk. Time period doesn't matter. Modern. Ancient. Fairytale. Fantasy. Whatever.

If you can do this great! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay too. You're an amazing writer with so much talent and I'm really appreciative of all your work. Thank you for taking requests from your fans, I'm sure you've received a lot.

Take care! 😘💜💜💜

at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into manga and manhwa and then after a few months, I dawdled off but recently, I’ve been getting back into it again haha so this request came at a pretty good time. Hopefully you won’t mind that I’ve taken some creative liberties with this request lol I think it’s more fun if I keep readers on their toes, including the requester.

On another note, I really shouldn’t be writing all my isekai’s with Taehyung as the main lead but he’s just so fitting asdfghjkl

↳ The Fox Bride

2.6k || 99% Light Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung

You are a tutorial character.

But you weren’t always. You still remember being a career woman in the twenty-first century, struggling with overtime and paying bills while trying to keep yourself fed. The success of that ranged from month to month. But more importantly, you still remember that night too.

It was rainy. Your car blew a flat tire. You pulled to the side of the highway and got out.

The last thing that registered was the deafening honk of the semi-truck. 

Then you felt yourself flying upwards.

But when you landed, instead of colliding with the concrete and dying upon impact, you fell back onto your ass in the middle of a market on a dirt road. Transported back a thousand years ago.

Your purpose was fulfilled in the next two minutes. 

“Are you alright?”

The male protagonist had stretched out his hand and helped you up. The hero. The main character. It was obvious with his bright red hair, shining eyes and bronze armour. He was so starkly different from the rest who were gray and drab, including you who was suddenly in a brown shapeless dress. He was practically a neon billboard in the middle of a graveyard.

“Are you Y/N?”

You looked at him, befuddled that he knew your name. But before you could even respond or provide a line of dialogue, he said, “This is a delivery from Baker Jeon. He gives you his thanks.”

The protagonists handed you a loaf of bread. Undoubtedly his first ever quest. 

You looked down, not sure what to do with it.

“Do you know where the blacksmith is?”

You had absolutely no clue. But there was the deafening noise of hammering steel literally ten steps away. You would have to be blind not to see the gruff man shaping a sword at an anvil right on the road and deaf not to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the literal sign of the shop read: ‘the blacksmith’.

So you pointed.

“Thanks.” And he trudged off.

You were utterly confused until a background character who said they knew you waved you over. You shared your bread with her, brushed aside when she asked you what was wrong, and you followed her as she walked up to your supposed cottage.

All the while, you saw yourself in the background of the hero’s main quest as he ran through the town.

And that was that.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where you were or what the hell this was when you put your mind to it. Without much of a job or a family, and no technology but the candle that you had to conserve when night fell, there was ample time.

So you spent it thinking and you eventually solved the mystery.

You were in Beast Boys Harem: A Forbidden Embrace. AKA. a dumb yaoi otome game app that you downloaded on your phone when you were sixteen and bored. You remember because you were too cheap to buy the routes, so you played the tutorial, prologue and read the summaries of the routes online. Now you regret that you didn’t just fork over the goddamn five dollars. 

Even more than that, you regret that you even downloaded the game in the first place.

But at least you’re just a tutorial character. You’re free from the storyline and the plot—

That’s what you thought.

Turns out living a thousand years in the past in a fantasy realm as a woman didn’t bode well. It was probably no different from how it would’ve been like in the medieval ages. You had no trade skills. No one was willing to accept you as an apprentice when you were a woman. You found that you were essentially illiterate with a reading level of a preschooler, no one was willing to teach you, and you had no power or wealth when you were without a father or a husband.

And you’re certain what the landlord and tax-collectors are doing is illegal.

But in this world, in this unjust realm, there is no such thing as the law.

“We know you’re in there!”

You jolt from the heavy pounding on the frail wooden door.

“It’s time to pay up!”

Your hands tremble as you set the candle down that’s still billowing of smoke, the flame smothered out mere seconds ago. As much as you want to hide and pull the blanket over your head, you know that door won’t last. They’ll find you if you’re trapped in here.

“If you can’t, spread those legs of yours!” a low voice spits and there’s chortling from the men.

Someone adds, “Sell your body already!” 

“Open up! Damn whore!”

Without a single possession but the white nightgown clad on your body, you open the latch of the back window. You cringe at the squeak, trying to keep your movements quiet before the door gives way.

You hoist yourself up onto the window ledge. The door bends with the strength of multiple clenched fists against it. Your feet touch the soft grass outside your cottage. The men shout.

And the door finally slams against the wall, hinges broken. 

But by then, you’ve slipped into the shadows.

“Where is she?!”

The blanket is ripped off the bed, curtains are whipped back, every drawer dumped onto the ground and cupboards yanked open. The floor shakes with the weight of their boots and you press your palm to your mouth to silence your panting breaths, slowly stepping away.

“That damn whore slipped through us—!”

But as your shitty luck would have it, a sudden crack has the whole world coming to a standstill.

Shit. You look down at your feet, realizing that the snapping noise came from you stepping on a twig. And it’s exposed your hiding place.

“There she is!” — “Out the back window!”

You grab fistfuls of your dress and bolt. 

“Get her!”

With your cottage on the edge of town, there’s nowhere to run but through the dense woods. It’s shrouded in the darkness, no doubt filled with wild beasts creeping through the thicket. The rustling canopy of the trees doesn’t allow the dim, waning moonlight to illuminate your path.

So you’re left blind. Struggling up the high incline of the forest, feet slipping on dirt and mud. But you keep sprinting with all your might, even when the pointed, coiling branches scrape at your calves until blood sheds and the hem of your dress tears in the underbrush.

“Run, little rabbit!” one of them mocks, “Run!”

The four men continue to give chase, gripping onto their roaring torches, shrieking and howling after you. One of them is manically laughing as if your efforts to flee only adds to the thrill. Their greased hands reach out to snatch you, but the tips of their fingers graze the ends of your hair.

Your teeth are sunk into the bottom of your lip, sobs breaking through your aching chest. Your lungs burn, dying for a break or moment of relief. But you don’t relent and luckily, you manage to build distance between you and the men. Only, that luck comes crashing down by a fucking hole.

A hole in the forest floor that you don’t see. That has your footing all wrong. That makes you scream and fall.

You twist your ankle in a direction it’s definitely not supposed to be in and cry from pain. 

A second later, you force yourself to get up and keep running with tears flooding your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. But it’s more like limping than running, akin to hobbling on one leg and every movement has pain shooting from your swelling ankle.

The effort becomes futile. They surround you within minutes.

“All finished?” The tax-collector’s head cocks with a spreading grin. “You’re not going to keep running?”

Why couldn’t you just fucking die the first time?! Even if it was an awful death where you didn’t have time to prepare yourself or say goodbye to anyone, at least it would’ve been the end. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer.

But there’s no time to grieve. Or hate the new life you’ve been given. This is it. You have to keep going. You have to survive. By any means. You’re about to pick up a branch and uselessly wave it around at them, shout at them to stand back. Anything that you could do to save yourself—

“Who dares come onto my mountain?!”

There’s a deep timbre behind you. A husky voice that quivers the very core of the forest.

As if the wind has swept through, the trees and thicket rustle and it goes silent.

The men fall back onto their asses, some torches clattering to the ground. Their eyes have grown double in size, nearly falling from their sockets and their jaws have dropped to the dirt.

“I-It’s the nine-tailed fox!”

The man scrambles back.

“Demon!” 

Another barely manages to get onto his feet. He turns around and lurches away while shrieking.

They all run. Scattering away as frantically as cockroaches when the light is flickered on.

From your spot on the ground, you turn around with wide eyes. 

Amber irises meet your gawking and they practically glow in the darkness of the forest. He is dressed in a loose, white robe that’s draped over his frame, open to the middle of his chest. And over his honey hair, on the top of his head, his pointed golden ears twitch. By the torch fire still yet to die out, he is illuminated and his shadow is casted on the ground. The blazing flame warms his cold, sharp features. 

He is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. In both worlds you’ve lived in.

And you know who he is.

Taehyung. One of the love interests of the hero. A seductive, sly creature that eventually coaxes the hero into selling him his soul to grant one of his wishes. But Taehyung grows to become an obsessed character that wants to do nothing but monopolize and possess the hero for himself.

That same Taehyung approaches you with his lip curled as you teeter to your feet.

“Run away, girl.” He leans close. “Before I eat you.”

“Stop!” 

On sheer instinct and adrenaline, you push him back. Your palm shoves against his firm chest.

Taehyung stumbles back with his eyes becoming rounded. He looks down to where you had made contact against his body. “Did...you just touch me?”

“What?”

Taehyung’s head darts upwards and he captures your wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. He tugs you in and on your swollen ankle, you stumble into him. Bodies flush against one another. Your face pressed to his warm chest. His arm coming around your waist to break your fall.

He is aghast. 

“You’re not from this world.” Taehyung’s yellow eyes swirl as they gaze into you. “Where did you come from?”

…

It’s been three days.

“Wed me,” he begs for the seventy sixth time. 

You don’t know why you’re keeping a count.

“No.”

You’re hugging your knees for warmth. The rice paper-paneled doors are slid open and letting in the chilly air. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, but you don’t look at him for long. 

You turn into the corner of his home while sitting on the tatami floors as if you’re putting yourself into time out. But you’d like to say it’s your privacy corner. It’s as private as this abode, which was basically one room, could get. 

Taehyung sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his forehead. His teeth grit. “You’re only making this harder for yourself.” Your silence angers him more. “You can never leave.”

You turn over your shoulder to glare. “Even if I married you, you’d never let me leave anyway.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes on you and then smirks. “You’re right. Wed or unwed, I won’t let you out of my sight. You should feel grateful, girl. You’re the best human I’ve ever treated.”

You quietly scoff.

Maybe you should feel scared. Maybe you should tread more lightly. After all, he’s not a character to be trifled with.

But you know he needs you. That alone gives you power. 

As a beast, Taehyung’s been trapped on this mountain by priests for centuries. The only way he can be free is by feeding off of sexual energy and breaking the barrier. But of course, they also cursed him to be unable to touch any woman in this universe. 

You aren’t from this universe.

You jolt when you realize that while you were lost in thought, Taehyung’s crawled closer. He has a foxy smile, amber eyes searching your expression. “Maybe….maybe I’ll grant you a bit of freedom if you would just give into the temptation and let me have a taste of you.”

As cold as he looks, he is beautiful. He is mischievous when he smirks and sly when he speaks. You are utterly spellbound as you look into his irises. And the temptation he speaks of flickers in the warmth of your belly.

But you turn away.

“I already said we only do that kind of thing after marriage. And I will only marry someone I love.”

Taehyung draws back with an unamused scoff. “What a prudish world you’re from.”

He wanted you the moment you were brought to this house. With the intensity of his stare and your captivated state, you had let him pin you to his floor and you liked it. But then clarity came and you blurted that such an act only happens after marriage. A lie just to buy time.

You didn’t expect for the hero to arrive at Taehyung’s house the next day. With his red hair and bronze armour, he had gotten lost in the forest and knocked on the door. Before you could limp over and answer it, Taehyung jumped off the roof and confronted him.

The guy was thrown off the mountain within five minutes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a steamy rendezvous. Taehyung was supposed to get the sexual energy from him! 

The story was going off the rails. And you’re not sure what you’re even buying time for anymore.

The both of you know it’s only a matter of time before you break and succumb to his mesmerizing seduction.

Taehyung is cruel, ruthless, obsessive.

But what’s the most bewitching thing about him is the jarring contrast of when he’s clumsy and nurturing. It’s what he regards as his own weakness. What he hides from others. But you felt your heart waver two nights ago when you were shaken awake in the middle of twilight. When you peeked open your eye to see him gingerly wrapping your swollen ankle with bandages.

He looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, ears, tails, sharp features softened—

“Ow!” You wince as he squeezes your ankle, right on your injury.

“You think too much in your head,” he says and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.”

A sadistic smile tugs on Taehyung’s lips. He lets go, but only to lift your chin with his fingers. His plush lips are inches away, his breath warm on your skin and he gazes deep into you. “I won’t let you return to your world. I won’t let you run away. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

“You’re mine now.” Taehyung swears, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually.”

You gulp and he smirks.

The two of you know it’s only a matter of time.

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Quiver (bbh)

Summary: You meet a man who seems to know nearly everything about you, save your name.

As with nearly every Baek fic I write, for @illneverrecover! Although she actually paid me for this one hahaha

Also thank you to my sister for betaing and making my gorgeous banner!

Warnings: angst, violence and death tw, unprotected sex, outdoors sex, oral sex (f. receiving), this is more soft and sad than horny tbh

Word Count: 10,219

Deja vu is something you don't feel very often, and so when it washes over you in a wave that leaves goosebumps on your flesh, you look around.

You're not sure what you're looking for, but you feel that when you find it, you'll know.

Your eyes fall on a man sitting at a table, looking down at a book. His hair is slicked back but with pieces falling into his face, and as if he knows you're staring, he looks up at you.

He has the warmest brown eyes, and something like a shock shoots through your heart. Your feet are moving before you realize it.

"Have we met before?"

He smiles, and your heart flutters.

"Maybe in another life."

His name, it turns out, is Baekhyun, and he works at some investment firm you've never heard of but it doesn't matter because he has the most endearing way of smiling at you while you're speaking to him.

You assume he has money because the car he leads you to is nice, not ridiculously so but expensive to upkeep, a foreign model that's sleek and your favorite color: red.

"Why red?" You ask, sliding into the leather seat of this stranger's car because you just know he's safe, somewhere in you.

He gives you that half smile again, the one that gives you something akin to deja vu.

"Reminds me of someone."

You wonder if you might fuck him on the first date, if coffee even counts as a first date, and it's the first time you've ever done that but when he makes you tea and you lean against his kitchen counter he gives you this look. It's like there's something dark and deep in his brown eyes, something both flirty and almost darkly lustful.

It makes your heart flip. It makes your body tingle. It makes you a little afraid.

But you've never been one to run from fear, especially when it's all wrapped up with excitement and lust.

When you're sitting on his couch and sipping tea he's swiveled his body toward you just slightly, open and inviting, but he doesn't make a move, just watches you, listens as you fill the silence, laughs when you make a face when you pick up his tea instead of yours, which is bitter and devoid of the sugar you love.

You make the first move, in fact, end up clutching at his shirt as you kiss his mouth over and over because it feels soft and his tongue is hot and it feels familiar.

His hands skate up your sides once, above your shirt, and then again, under it, and that feels familiar too, long fingers on your flesh.

"You haven't met your soulmate yet," the tarot reader said. You and a friend had visited her a few years ago, when you were half drunk at a carnival.

"At least," she'd continued, "not in this lifetime."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" You ask, two weeks later when you've spent almost all

your free time with him, and most of it in his bed.

"Maybe in your dreams," he'd quipped, and you elbow him but he's already spooning you and you're too half asleep to do much damage.

"Always in mine," he says, softly, just as you're drifting to sleep, and you can't pry your eyes open long enough to ask what that means.

You start a fling of sorts with this mysterious man, and for the most part, you’re happy. But then you start having these dreams.

Sometimes, there’s fire on a wall in front of you and when you turn around it’s behind you, too.

You can feel your skin burning and you can barely breathe when you wake.

Sometimes there’s thunder booming all around you, lightning that streaks across the sky and you’re running and running toward someone, a man with warm brown eyes, but you can’t get there and when you look down you’re running in water up to your waist.

Always, he’s there. You suppose it’s because you and Baekhyun have been spending so much time together, that he’s in your head all the time as much as you hate to admit it.

Finally, he’s next to you in bed when you bolt upright, frightened by the thunder because it’s one of those fire dreams, one where you can feel the flesh on your arms crinkling, and it burns burns burns until it doesn’t, until you feel so cold you wake up shivering.

You’re afraid and disoriented and the dream all comes out in a rush — you tell him everything, small details about how you’re clutching a rosary in one hand, how the baubles on it popped n the flames, and he puts his arms around you, lets you bury your face in his chest as your heart rate slows down.

“Your name was Eva, then,” he murmurs, so quietly you’d think you were still dreaming.

Something about it rings true. You wonder if you’d heard that in the dream and told him still half asleep, so you nod against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into your neck after pulling you into his lap and it’s so mournful it almost frightens you.

“You can’t help my dreams,” you say playfully, trying to forget it, and he gives you the saddest smile.

“No, not those.”

You keep having those dreams, and they get more and more detailed and sometimes your name is Eva and sometimes it’s Yui and sometimes it’s Sarabeth and they’re all different, you look different, but you always feel how it ends.

And Baekhyun is always there. He looks the same, unlike you, and sometimes he’s your enemy, sometimes he’s your friend but most of the time, he’s your lover.

The dream that finally makes you confront him goes like this.

Your name is Angelica and your father was royalty but you’re just a bastard, your mother a commoner, a servant of the crown.

Once you’re old enough to have his eyes, you have to stay hidden like some fairy tale princess. Except you’re no princess in your dusty cabin, and you learn to hunt small game so that your mother doesn’t have to steal so much from the castle. It’s good that you learn, because your mother stops coming to the cabin and you learn that the plague has taken her.

The plague has taken nearly everyone, and you haven’t seen another person in months when you happen upon a man.

You have your bow drawn before he ever sees you, the string (made of rabbit sinew because it’s all you had, the bow made of oak that you’d chopped yourself) and arrow pointed straight and true.

He shifts, turns around and you hesitate just a moment when you catch his gaze, something familiar in his deep brown eyes. It’s long enough for him to draw his own bow, and he’s quick, quicker than you are, so you let your arrow fly.

His arrow flies a second after yours and they meet in the space between you, shredding each other in two.

You’d thought, then, that it was an omen.

Good or bad, you didn’t know.

You’d run back to the cabin and locked yourself in, but he’d followed you.

A few hours later, he knocked on the door and your heart started to race. Your mother had warned you what men could do to an unattended woman.

There was nothing else, though, and you waited half an hour to open the door.

A basket is sitting on the doorstep, and it contains dried meat and fresh cherries and peaches.

You hadn’t had fruit in years. There’s also a small bouquet of flowers, filled with dandelion fluff and baby’s breath, a few blossoms of lavender. It smells lovely.

You take your time eating the peaches, they have the sweetest juice that you let run down your chin like a child.

It’s been so long since you’ve eaten well that you overdo it and your stomach feels tied in a knot, but you’re smiling when you fall asleep that night, for what feels like the first time.

There’s another basket at the end of the week but he’s standing on the doorstep with it, smiling.

“Maiden, I was wondering if you had any water?”

“Will you draw your bow again when I turn my back?” You ask, wary, and he shakes his head, laughing softly.

“You drew yours first, maiden. I was surprised. The plague has taken so many it seems like I’m the only one left in all the world.”

He doesn’t look intimidating, doesn’t look as if he’s about to rush you, but you’ll be damned if you’ll let a strange man into your home, so you sit on the doorstep with him and eat the peaches he’d brought.

He watches the juice drip down your fingers, how you lick it off, with something in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

You sit and chat for a while, still wary, but he keeps looking at you like that, and you wonder if this is what it feels like, if this is what is to be wanted.

Three days and three dinners of peaches and dried meat later, you let him inside for a glass of water drawn from the well out back.

He drinks it down like he’s been thirsty for days, and you feel guilty for not letting him in earlier.

The way he licks his lips when he’s done makes something flutter inside your stomach and you put a hand there, low, almost on your pubic bone.

He watches every move you make, this mystery man who doesn’t have a hint of facial hair despite living in the woods, watches where you place your hands and fingers, how you move your mouth. He watches you as if you’re something fascinating, like watching fire burn wood down to embers.

When you were young, your mother took you to the Maypole festival, and all the children had been given these long sticks to dip in the fire, to twirl them around and make shapes in the night sky. You’d done it over and over until the stick was burned down too far and even then, you tried to dip it and burned your wrist.

He looks at you like you’d looked at the shapes you’d made with the lit stick. With wonder.

The first time he touches you it feels like the first time you’d felt warm water on your skin as a child, warmed on the fire with an iron pot, your mother spooning it over you slowly.

He touches you that way, slowly, murmuring bits of your name and it slides off his tongue like honey.

“Angelica. Angel,” he murmurs, right at the shell of your ear, and your bones seem to turn to jelly as you melt into him, your back against his chest.

Your mother had told you that one day you’d have a lover.

“Not a king,” she’d said, “but something more.”

You’d asked her what’s more than a king and she’d only smiled, held a finger to her lips as if the two of you shared a secret.

You did, your secret was that you existed, that your father was who he was and that your mother wasn’t his queen, at least not in name.

You tremble underneath his hands and when he turns you around, presses his mouth to yours, he does it slowly. You’re the one who grabs the back of his head, threads your fingers through the long hair at the nape of his neck, wanting him closer, so close, wanting to burrow inside him and live there because you’re aching for him all over and you don’t know what it means.

“Let me call you by your name,” you plead when he’s kneeling before you, pulling down your underclothes, spreading the curls at your core where you’re hot and aching and wet.

He shakes his head. “I have too many names.”

“Tell me one of them,” you beg.

He doesn’t answer, presses his mouth to your cunt and you gasp, tugging his hair hard and he makes a low groan, throat exposed, that makes something come awake in your lower stomach, something somehow both like fire and honey, hot and slow and sweet.

“Give me your name,” you demand.

One corner of his mouth turns up.

“My name is Love,” he tells you, and presses his face back into your cunt, inhales like he loves the scent of you, his hands spreading apart your thighs so roughly that you brace your hands on the table behind you.

It isn’t a name you’d heard any man to have, but maybe he isn’t a man, maybe he’s one of the fae your Irish born mother told you stories about when you were a girl.

Maybe that’s the something more your mother told you about your future lover after reading your palm when you were sixteen.

You hunt together, and you’re in awe of how quick he is with his bow, how he shoots straight through the heart of even the smallest animals, voles and rabbits that you roast over the fire and feast on while he tells you wild tales about his brothers and sisters.

One rules the sea, he tells you, with a magic trident. One makes lightning bolts for his father deep underground where there’s fire so hot it melts rock and stone.

You’re fascinated, sit for hours just watching his mouth as he speaks and sometimes you vault into his lap mid sentence, silence him with your mouth on his because you want want want.

Your mother had told you many things about your future lover, about how you should be demure just like a man wants, but you can’t even try, not with him. Not with your mysterious, many named, no named lover, because he presses your nails deep into his chest when you straddle his hips, hisses when you leave bite marks along his throat and collarbone.

You pretend to be demure sometimes, if only to make him frown, to make him throw you down on your bedclothes roughly, to bite your lip bloody.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have talons, angel,” he growled, and you can’t help the way you laugh loud and open, even with your legs spread wantonly.

Physical love isn’t at all like your mother had described it, and you wonder if she’d only ever been with the king, with a man who cared so little for his paramours that he’d allowed your mother to die alone in the slums, locking her out from the castle so that his heirs might live.

It isn’t something that you lie down and take the way your mother must have, sometimes it’s animalistic, feral like you’d seen horses mate at the castle’s stables when you were young.

You present yourself on all fours and he slides his hands down your ass, grabs the flesh there to part you, presses his face into your cunt until your thighs are shaking. It’s not love that you feel during those times, not exactly, more like that want want want that you feel so often with him.

Your breath catches when he pulls your hair, wraps it around his fist so that your back arches, so that you twist to look at him. Later, when you’re both sweaty and sated, that’s when the love comes, loud and blooming in your chest as he kisses the fingerprint bruises he’s left on your hips, his fingers gentle on your sensitive skin until your breath slows.

Love is a thing that blooms, you would write if you’d ever been taught how. Love is my man’s name and it’s blooming in me like spring flowers.

You go for walks to gather berries because you’re too busy fucking to hunt and you can get by on a few more fruits and you don’t want to wake him. Once you’d brought home rose petals for tea and a piece of a honey comb that had made his eyes light up.

He’d spread the honey across your nipples, suckled and nipped there until you were sore, and one day, you want that again, especially the way his brown eyes sparkled when he’d seen it.

You have a way with the bees, after all, a way of singing high and sweet that makes them buzz around you slowly instead of angrily.

You’re halfway down the path before you realize you’ve left your quiver and bow. Love (both the man and the feeling) makes you feel stupid, heady and slow, and you pause for a moment, wondering if you should turn back.

Instead, you head forward because it’ll be sunset soon and you won’t be able to find that tree, the one with the beehive and honeycomb that your man loves so much.

It happens so quickly it feels like an instant. You step out from the bushes after gathering some blackberries, so juicy they’ve stained your fingers, and the next thing you know, you’re on the ground. When you try to stand, you can’t, a pain blooming (a lot like love) through your stomach and you’re sure there weren’t any raspberries so what’s this red spreading out onto the ground?

You see your man’s boots, barely laced, before you see his face and someone behind you is stuttering but you hear the swish of your lover’s arrow, a choked, gurgling sound and then he’s knelt down at your side.

“Angel, angel,” he whispers, and he’s crying and you want to tell him not to because it makes you afraid.

What’s happened? What’s wrong?

You don’t realize you’re not actually speaking until he cradles your face, lies down in the dirt to face you, and everything but his touch, his eyes, seems far away and unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly. “I need you to remember. When next we meet, remember my name.”

You want to. You want to remember everything about him but you’re sure that you’re floating away now.

“Baekhyun,” he tells you. “My name will be Baekhyun.”

As an immortal, it's hard to remember every moment. Years and decades blur together. The only moments Baekhyun can call to mind in perfect recall are the first times he's seen you

For a while, he’d thought Rome might be the worst lifetime he’d ever have.

He knows what he’s supposed to do, knows it’s his job, but he can barely ever bring himself to do it.

In Rome, you’re excited, young, bouncing around with your hair braided. Fire red, always red, always as fiery as your personality. “Eros, right? God of love.”

He’d smiled, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt. “You think I’m a god? I’m flattered.”

You scoff, swirl your dress around as you turn, speaking with your hands as always and his heart aches with how familiar it all is. “Don’t think that means you’re special.”

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. Means that you’re here to help me fall in love.”

“Is that so?” He can’t stop smiling at you, despite knowing what will inevitably happen next.

“Mmhm.” You’d taken his hand, flipped your braid over to the other side of your shoulder. He always tries. He always tries, gods damn it, damn his father and his brothers and sisters, he tries.

But there’s always this moment, where you take his hand, or brush your knuckles against his lips just so, or you just look at him up under your lashes, and the arrow he’s supposed to be aiming feels like it goes straight through his heart.

“I have someone in mind.”

It’s like the arrow in his heart twists, and gods know his arrows have always been true and fatal.

Your smile is so bright, and his heart is so full but it hurts at the same time and what a curse this is, to be able to fall in love with you so easily but have you fall for someone else just as fast.

He tells himself that he won’t try to change your mind, that he won’t let himself get close to you as you go on this search for your true mate.

You’d been childhood sweethearts, you and your match, but he’s been called away to war and you’ve been in mourning ever since.

He’s a god, but he is the god of love, after all, and with all your heart you believed that you loved another. He tells himself he’s doing the right thing… for the third time.

The first time, when it had all started, he’d fallen in love with you and seduced you and you’d forgotten all about your true match and it had all ended in fire and blood.

In Rome, in your third lifetime, he tells himself he won’t let that happen again. So when you put your hand on his thigh when you crouch down to drink on your journey, he wills his skin not to heat and his heart not to skip.

Three weeks in and you’re exhausted, your feet are swollen and bleeding from all the walking and you slide into his furs instead of your own, press your face against his chest.

“Maybe he’s gone,” you say, quietly, and Baekhyun is as still as death, telling himself he doesn’t want to lean down to kiss you, to tell you that it doesn’t matter where your sweetheart is because he’s here and ready and he wants you more than anything.

“We’ll find him,” he promises, and it’s a promise he keeps, even when you press your mouth to his and he takes it, this small comfort, until you fall into a fitful sleep.

Greece was bittersweet, because you found your match in the end and Baekhyun shot his arrow hoping that he’d miss. But his arrow was true, shot straight into the heart of your paramore.

You found your true match, fell in love, had children, and Baekhyun could have gone. Could have sailed away at sea, gone anywhere in the world. But even in Greece he’d spent three lifetimes with you (in one way or another) and he can’t bring himself to be more than a few miles away from you.

Instead, he’d watch you playing with your daughter in the garden, watch you kiss your husband, laughing into his mouth when he picked you up.

He watched you grow old, have grandchildren, plant roses that still never bloomed. You were never a gardener, no matter how you tried. It’s odd, how happy he feels for you, and how his heart clenches in his chest, how hard he wishes it were him.

He would never grow old, and he would never have you more than a few fleeting weeks, months, once even two wonderful years. Eros is love, and love isn’t supposed to fall in love.

So when he did, all those years ago, his father cursed him to find your match, over and over and over. It was you then and it’s you in Greece and Rome and England and Portugal and a thousand other countries that didn’t even have names when he’d met you there.

He’d thought Greece would be the worst because of the longing, because of the jealousy that brewed vile in the back of his throat, but Rome was much worse.

The Church ruled everything and at first Baekhyun thought that was normal. After all, when he was young he and his family had ruled everything. These are just different gods, although perhaps harsher ones.

They called you a harlot because of the fire red of your hair, the way you wore dresses slit up to your hip, the way you'd laugh if someone asked the last time you'd gone to confession.

"You should go to Mass," he'd warned with a lock of that fire red hair slipping through his fingers.

You'd smiled at him. "Why's that, lover? You want to hear my confession?"

He tugs your hair, exposing your throat as you let out a raspy moan, grinding against his thigh.

"What have you to confess, stellina?”

(Of all the languages and all the pet names he'd called you, stellina is his favorite, translates to star, and you burn so bright and beautiful it breaks his heart.)

"Impure thoughts," you muse. "Fornication before marriage.”

You pause. "This might take some time, amore."

You slide down under the linen, leaving open mouthed kisses and nips on his hip bones and thighs, and he forgets what he was going to warn you about.

(He loves any term you call him, in Spain mi corazon, in England love, in German liebling. But his true favorite is when you learn his name, his true name.)

You die fighting, that lifetime, clawing at the priests who’ve decided a witch needs baptism, holding you under the water until you finally stop, your nails broken and bloody.

Baekhyun finds you there, hours too late because he’d been sleeping off the night before, when he’d warned you about Mass, when you’d both stayed up all night, love talk and making love and a good deal of fucking, too, and he hates himself.

Hates that even though he is what he is, he needs sleep and food and water. He hates himself when he lifts you up, your fire red hair darkened by the water, hates himself when he kisses your bloody nails one by one and buries you behind the garden where you used to plant roses that never bloomed.

He hates himself most because it never gets easier, seeing you die, never gets easier knowing that he can’t, that he’s cursed to do this over and over.

In 1402, in Malaysia, you’d just had two streaks of red locks in the front, tendrils that stuck to the sides of your face when you were sweating, and you’re sweating when he first sees you, although you hit him before he ever sees your face.

You’d dropped down from a tree branch, locked your arms around his neck and cut off his airflow. It isn’t as if you could have killed him, but he respects it, all the same. You’ve got this little knife and you slice his throat but it doesn’t bleed, closes up as you watch and you drop to your knees, wide eyed but still, not submitting. Even when you know he’s a god, you never submit. At least, not that way.

Later, he kisses all the scars on your forearms and wrists, defensive wounds from battles and scuffles with the male soldiers who’d found you out.

"I never let them break me," you'd said, proudly, but there's something behind your eyes that makes him want to slaughter all the male soldiers in their sleep, bring you their heads, a sacrifice like the old gods had demanded.

As he had once demanded, before he met a human girl with an immortal soul full of fire and was punished for worshipping her.

Now it's 2021 and he's been through so many years, and he's tired. He's changed his name, over and over, from Eros to Cupid to then more common names.

He's been Baekhyun the last four lifetimes because you seem to like it, it makes you giggle in 1924 when your red (always red, red like fire and blood and love and all things that are important to him) hair was bobbed and you were wearing a black sequined dress at a speakeasy.

"Baek," you'd laughed, tipsy, one hand on his arm and he couldn't stop smiling at you. "Almost like Bark, like a dog."

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he'd answered, flirting but also honest. He'd always been whatever you wanted because he got so few years with you, each time.

"You'd be my dog?" Your eyes sparkled with booze and excitement.

He nodded. "Follow you around like a puppy."

When you'd given him an incredulous smile, he'd opened his mouth in the middle of a packed speakeasy in New York City and barked like a dog.

The way you'd laughed is something he can hear in his dreams years later, tries to make it the memory he remembers most instead of the ones where you'd died screaming.

Now, there are no more gods who want you for sacrifice, all of his kind who were vengeful had gone silent, moved on or passed on, including his father who'd cursed him in the first place.

He's hoping, every lifetime, that this is where it ends. He's hoping that this time he doesn't have to tell you.

He's wrong, just like he had been in 1425 and 1604 and 1976. The curse outs itself, as curses always do.

You sit up in bed, watching him sleep and shivering, for what seems like hours after that dream.

He wakes slowly, but scrambles up into a seated position as soon as he’s fully conscious, being careful not to touch you.

“Do you remember?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You mumble, even if you have a feeling you do.

“At some point, you always remember.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you so goddamn cryptic?” Your voice is hoarse and loud.

He nods, as if expecting your outburst.

“Sometimes you’re not ready to hear.”

You want to scream in frustration. “Hear what?”

“What I am. What we are.”

“And what are we?”

“Immortals.”

You gawk at him. He makes it sound so simple, like he’s talking to a child.

“You’re an immortal?”

“You, too.” He pauses. “Well, in a different way.”

“So what, you’re telling me that was real? My dream? Angelica?”

Baekhyun lets out a long breath, shifts on the bed to face you.

“You were Eva. Angelica. Yui. In Greece I called you stellina. You’ve had more names than I have.”

You look up into his eyes and if he’s lying, he deserves an Academy award for the performance.

“What… what are you?”

You aren’t sure if you’re frightened or intrigued or both.

Baekhyun smiles then, wryly.

“Eros. Cupid. Angelica simply called me Love.”

“You’re telling me you’re like... the god of love? The one with the arrows?”

He looks as if he wants to laugh at you but wisely, he doesn’t. Instead he nods.

“Is it… is it always like it was when… when I was Angelica?” You ask, breathing in deeply because you remembered the pain in your chest, the way the blood spread out on the dirt in your lucid dream.

“Almost always,” he says softly, and reaches out to put his hands on yours.

You would have thought you would have flinched away but instead, his touch seems to comfort you and you lean into him.

“What happens when I don’t?” You ask, curiously, and something shutters over his eyes.

“You’re happy.” He rubs your knuckles between his fingers.

It’s a lot to take in and you have a million more questions but also, you can’t think of a single one that you can put into words. You pace around the bedroom and when that’s not enough, your entire apartment, and then outside to the elevator and back and he stays put, sitting cross legged in bed and looking at you with those deep brown eyes.

Finally, you plop down on the edge of the bed, exhausted.

“So what do we do?”

He just looks at you, again with that bemused smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

“How do we fix it?” You demand.

Instead of responding, he takes your hands in his again, brushes his lips across your knuckles but this time you do recoil.

“I’m not going to die horribly again. You can’t want that.”

“Of course I don’t,” he murmurs, and you want a reaction, something other than the way he’s just looking at you so you shove him and he just lets you, falls back on the bed when you do it a second time.

“You just keep letting me die?” You accuse, crawling up onto the bed and he makes a growl in the back of his throat, grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pins you when you try to shove him again.

“I never let you die. I try over and over and over to save you, but I can’t. The only way I can save you is by finding-”

He looks away from you, shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth and you wriggle under him.

“Finding what?” You insist.

He lets you go, rolls over and puts his forearm over his eyes.

“Your true match. In all the lifetimes that you’ve lived to old age in, I shot my arrow to find your true match.”

You deflate, lying there next to him and staring up at the ceiling.

“So you’re saying in order to live like a normal person, I have to fall in love with someone else?”

“Yes,” he says miserably. After a few moments, he lifts his arm and opens one eye to look at you. “Got anyone in mind?”

You shove at his arm, but not as hard this time, and he breaks into a smile, takes you into his arms. You melt against him, just like before, because that’s what feels right, that’s what feels natural.

“That happened? Before?” You ask, stroking his hair and usually he preens at the attention, leans back to kiss you but now he buries his face in your hair, avoiding your gaze.

He murmurs something in affirmation and kisses just under your earlobe.

“You found someone else for me?”

He nods, still not lifting his head, and you huff out a breath, wanting some kind of reaction out of him.

“Was he hot?”

Baekhyun groans and laughs, rolls over onto his back. ‘You always do this.”

“Always do what?” You demand, poking at his side. “You know all these things about me...or well, some version of me, and I don’t know anything about you.”

He looks at you, smiling just a little. “You know everything about me.”

You huff, frustrated. “It doesn’t feel like it. I want to know more. I want to know how I died, why I died, what all this means.”

To his credit, Baekhyun tries to explain it to you. The curse, his family, but it’s all twisted up in your mind with these memories you have of him in past lives, of being so in love with him you can barely breathe, wanting him so badly you can barely sit still, and it ends with you tearing off his clothes and him laughing into your mouth as you guide him inside you.

After, you’re contrite, kissing along his collarbone.

“I don’t want you to find anyone else for me.”

Baekhyun makes a sound in the back of his throat and you don’t know if it’s surprise or something else.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” you continue, orgasm drunk and with this fire burning under your skin, remembering how Angelica felt, how Yui felt, moving closer to him on the bed because you can’t bear to have your skin not touching his in every place you can.

He pulls you on top of him, kissing you after you squeal in surprise and your lips feel swollen and bruised already but it’s the sweetest ache.

“I don’t think I could, even if you asked,” he admits, and something about the way he says it makes you proud, makes your heart swell. His hands skate over your upper arms and his touch gives you goosebumps.

“No?” You shift to spread your thighs, liking the way he hardens under you with just the barest movement.

Baekhyun shakes his head, his tongue coming out slowly to lick his lips. You see that you’ve bitten his bottom lip bloody and it sends a shot of heat through you.

“Usually I never found anyone else for you, not after I’d touched you. I started out meaning to find someone for you. Touching you first… having you first… it makes things complicated.”

You don’t speak but shift again and it seems to spur him on.

His face is flushed and it’s cute, makes you smile.

“You know why.”

“Do I?” You’re grinning now, like the cat that ate the canary, and he groans but he’s smiling.

He sits up suddenly, bracing himself against the headboard and he puts his hands on your hips to move you backwards so that his half hard erection sits right at the cleft of your cunt and when you gasp and try to guide him inside you, he tightens his hands with a slight shake of his head.

“You gonna make me say it?”

“You know I am.”

You gasp when he puts pressure on your clit with his thumb, humming in the back of his throat.

“I’ve loved you for centuries, and I’ll love you for centuries more, stellina.”

“What does that mean?” You gasp, your insides on fire with lust and love and full to bursting, rocking your hips forward and he gives you what you want, puts more pressure on your clit and lets you guide his cock inside you.

“Star,” he says softly, moving a hand up to cup your cheek. “Because you burn.”

You do burn, you burn inside and out and you want to tell him that you burn for him but he sticks his thumb in your mouth, presses down on your tongue just how you like and all you can do is moan around it.

He keeps his other thumb positioned just right so that you can rock against his hand and lift your ass so that his cock slides against your g-spot and you suck on his thumb until he hisses and bucks beneath you, moving so that you can lean down and kiss him hard, brace your hands on either side of him so that you can get more traction.

You’re sure that you’ll be sore in the morning, ever since you’ve met him (in this lifetime, at least) you’ve been in some type of bittersweet pain, an ache across your throat, soreness in your thighs and hips and ass where you’ve been riding him, a rawness deep inside from too much sex and not enough rest.

There’s never enough, never enough of your sweat misted skin sliding across his, never enough of his hand fisted in your hair, of his cock at the back of your throat, of his fingers hooked inside you. The past couple of weeks you’ve only left his apartment for work and a few changes of clothes (not that you wore them much, anyway).

It makes you feel more sane, knowing that you’ve wanted him this way in other lifetimes, makes you feel like the way you feel makes more sense, because you were beginning to think you were going crazy.

It isn’t as if he’s some kind of sex god, exactly, he just seems to know exactly what you like, exactly what you want, right away. That makes a kind of sense, now, how even when you’re on top he knows exactly what to do and say to get you to tip over the edge.

“I love the way you look like this,” he rasps, looking up at you as if maybe you are a star exploding and it isn’t just some nickname he gave you in Rome. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You cry out his name, throwing your head back when you cum and he palms his hands across your breasts and the stimulation across your nipples sends an aftershock through you right after. You’re like a ragdoll for a few moments after your orgasm and he shifts you around just like one, using you to get off and you kiss and kiss and kiss him, loving the way it feels when he spills inside you.

You say it then, maybe because he said it to you first or maybe just because your heart is full to bursting with it.

“I love you.” It’s almost defiant. “I love you, and I don’t want to love anyone else.”

He strokes your cheek where you’re still lying on top of him.

“I don’t know if we get a choice, stellina.”

There’s always questions when you find out, and Baekhyun is prepared for them. There’s often questions that hurt, somewhere deep in his bones, questions you’d asked over and over again.

Sometimes you’re curious about your other perfect matches, and that stings. Sometimes you want to know about your deaths, and those are hard memories to bring to the surface.

The question that always hurts the most, though, is the one you ask after you’ve both showered, lying sated and exhausted in his bed, the curtains blacking out the sun outside.

“Did we ever have children?”

You’re rubbing your stomach and there’s something caught in his throat and he has to cough to clear it.

“We didn’t. You did. Sometimes.”

You look up at him and frown. “With my true match?”

Baekhyun heaves a sigh so deep it hurts his chest. “With him, yes.”

You pause. “Was it the same guy? Same… soul, I guess?”

Baekhyun nods slowly, his heart sinking, but you don’t ask anything more, you just lie your head on his shoulder.

He wonders what you’re thinking, wonders where it branches off from here. He’s been here so many times before. He feels more tired than he should.

But instead of asking more questions or storming out crying or any of the things you’d done after you’d found out, you start to snore softly, curled up next to him.

Baekhyun wonders idly if he’ll be able to sleep, but he’s drifting off before he’s even completed the thought.

When he wakes, you’re gone, and he scrambles out of bed in his boxers to pace around the house. He can feel you aren’t around and it’s like a hole in his chest. It’s always been that way, he knows when you’re close and when you’re not, and you must be miles away because now, there’s nothing.

When he checks his phone you’ve texted that you’ll be back with food. He’s shocked that it’s nearly noon, it hadn’t even been sunset when he’d dozed off.

Perhaps immortals can be just as bone tired as mortals, sometimes. After a dozen lifetimes of fighting, he doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

He waits for you, sitting on the couch and idly flipping through the channels, and he thinks about when it all ends. His father had moved on, had no one worshipping his name anymore, and it isn’t as if school children are learning much about Eros, Cupid relegated to only one day out of a year with awful sour sweet candy and paper mache hearts. He’s stored his bow a few hundred miles away, hoping that this lifetime he wouldn’t need it, hadn’t actually found a true match for anyone but you in centuries.

Baekhyun wonders, with no real sense of urgency or fear, if this is the last lifetime. There’s a kind of exhaustion he’s never felt before that seems to weigh him down, and he’s finding it hard to care about anything but you. He hopes it happens before you pass, before the curse ends your life too young and too violently. He wants to move on and set you free, because he knows he can’t resist you for more than a couple of lifetimes. He’s tried too many times and failed.

You return bright eyed and with half a dozen books and a notebook, a pen pinched between your teeth.

At your urging he goes out to the car and brings in the breakfast you’d bought and you spread your books across the table.

“Greek and Roman Mythology for Dummies.” He reads aloud, laughing, and you look up at him from the floor and frown.

“Don’t judge me, this is all new to me.”

He holds up his hands. “Not judging. What’s all this for?”

“I’m going to find a way to end the curse, of course.”

Baekhyun sits down hard on the couch. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” You demand, your nose scrunching up just a little.

He can’t help but smile at you, and he shrugs.

No reason to shoot down your hopes. Not yet, at least.

Four hours later, your eyes red rimmed from staring at books and your laptop screen, you jump onto the couch and into his lap.

“I found it!” You screech, and kiss all over his face.

Baekhyun smiles, kisses you back, and you make love there on the couch. You want to be bent over, his hand on the small of your back to keep you over the couch arm, up on your tiptoes and making a little grunting noise every time he thrusts into you.

Baekhyun may be exhausted after all this time but he never gets tired of this. He never gets tired of you.

Your moans are muffled in the couch cushions but he hears his name, the one he always uses with you, ever since you were Angelica and that hunter’s arrow had pinned you to the ground.

Baekhyun is tired. He’s tired in a way he’s sure no human ever could be. He’s tired of all the times he’s lost you, to your true match and then worse, to death, and he’s tired of living them over and over again.

But when you stand up, twist his face to kiss him, your eyes bright when you grin against his mouth, he thinks that it’s all been worth it.

You’re always worth it, and the thought of getting to meet you again, another you, is all it takes for him to keep going.

It takes a few months to get the time off work, match up travel plans, and get supplies.

Supplies meaning mostly travel gear and light clothes and a passport, the place you need to get to is high up on a cliffside in Northern Greece.

Baekhyun’s supportive enough, you guess, but you feel a bit nervous about his lack of excitement when you’re finally there, in Greece, at a gorgeous resort near the cliffside. Money hadn’t been a problem. Apparently when you’re immortal you manage to accrue a bit of savings.

“Aren’t you happy? Doesn’t this feel like home?”

Baekhyun laughs, loud and open, for what seems like the first time since you’d found out.

“This isn’t my home, stellina. I’m older than Greece.’

You blink, shocked. “But you are Eros.”

He nods. “I’m Eros, and Cupid, and Ishtar, and Kuni. Many gods and goddesses, different names. My duty and purpose was always the same, but I’ve never had a home. Except with you.”

He brushes your cheek with his nose and you sigh, hate that the way he says that so simply, as if it’s the whole truth, makes your heart clench.

“Still, you remember being here.”

Baekyun nods, staring out at the sea, reliving some life you only half remember.

You don’t ask many more questions, at least not until the next day when Baekhyun is listlessly pulling on his clothes and you’re tugging at his hands, excited, wanting to hurry and have this curse looming over your head end, so that you can stop thinking about it.

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” You pout, but you quiet when he looks up at you, his usually warm brown eyes dull and exhausted.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You ask, softer now.

Baekhyun shrugs. “Some.”

Then he grins at you and there’s a flicker of life in his eyes. “I’m a very old man, you know. I need my rest.”

It makes you laugh, makes you forget, and you don’t think of it again until you’re hiking up the trail, about an hour’s long journey to reach the top.

He’s behind you by a few hundred feet and you frown at him, waiting until he reaches you. You’ve never seen him out of breath.

You take his hand, tug him further up the trail but it’s only a few moments before he stops, bracing himself on a tree near the trail.

“Stop,” he wheezes, and you do, tilting your head at him in confusion.

“Baekhyun, we have to-”

“Just stop,” He insists, and you’d think he was angry if his voice weren’t shaking.

“Why? What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” You fire off at him, moving closer, and he shakes his head.

You take his chin in your hand and force him to look at you.

His brown eyes are still as tired as earlier, and wet now, too.

“I don’t want to do this again,” he manages hoarsely.

You take a step back. “Have we done this before? Have we been here before?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, but there’s a truth in his silence.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “So what? Maybe this time it’ll work, maybe this is different-”

“It’s not different. In France you were called Jacqueline and we came here. You read books about it, forced me here just like you did this time. You were so certain it had worked.”

You shake your head but he keeps talking.

“You were so certain that after a couple of months, I was certain too. Three months later, there was a bus accident.” His voice breaks and he’s quiet again and you feel like you can’t breathe properly for the ache in your throat.

“We don’t know that will happen again.”

“I know!” He bursts out. “I know it will happen because it does, over and over again! Listen, we should go back to the hotel. I can get my bow out of storage and-”

“No!” You cry, stalking over to him. “No, that’s not the way to fix this.”

Baekhyun laughs bitterly, and he won’t look at you. “There’s no way to fix this.”

“You don’t know that,” you say stubbornly. “Whoever I’ve been in the past, I’ve never been this person, and I know I can fix it.”

He pushes himself away from the tree as if it takes effort to do it. “You always say that,” he says, and he doesn’t sound angry anymore, just tired.

You’re angry, heat rushing through your veins, and you don’t know if it’s at him or the fact that some ancient curse has decided to come through your life like a brushfire.

You push at him and he doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even keep you from pushing him against the tree.

“You don’t care, is that it? You’re what, bored of this? You want to get your bow so you can get rid of me?”

His jaw tightens and he looks away from you. “Maybe I do.”

You push him again and he has nowhere to go, backed up against the tree so he just takes it, stands there.

“Coward.” You spit. “You’d rather match me with someone else. You’d rather let someone else-”

“Stop it,” he says, something like a warning in his voice and you want to laugh or cry or both.

“Look at you. You can’t even hear me say it, but you’re going to marry me off like some 14th century child bride-”

“I’m not-” Baekhyun huffs, then stops, runs his hand through his hair. “He’s your true match. You… you always love him, when you meet him.” He struggles with the last sentence but he maintains eye contact, jaw working.

“Fuck my true match. And fuck you if that’s your answer to this.” You rage.

He doesn’t speak. “You’re always happy when you find him.” His voice is weak and it sounds like a weak excuse to your ears and you’re shaking with anger and fear.

You have this memory, sudden and sharp like a knife.

You're in this stone room, an inn you think, and you're half asleep but you can hear a low murmur from the room. It's familiar, from your traveling companion of the last few weeks.

His name is on your lips as you sit up but he's pacing around the room, not paying any attention to you. The way he's talking to himself makes you worried.

"You have to do this. You have to, you know you do," he mutters and there's something liquid in his voice.

Suddenly he slaps himself across the face and you yelp his name, stand up to take his wrist in your hand.

"Baekhyun," you whisper. "What are you doing?"

His face is flushed and his eyes look so tired, so worn, like he's lived a thousand years.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he manages, pulling away from your touch as if you'd burn him.

A few days later, his hands are shaking when he draws his bow, and your eyes are on him instead of your true match.

"Wh-what if you miss?" You whisper.

Baekhyun smiles but he won't look at you. "I don't miss."

He doesn't, but part of you wishes he had.

The memory just makes you angrier, makes you want to push him again.

“Am I? And what about you? What about you, Baek, are you happy without me? Are you happy giving me away?”

He scoffs, finally looking at you.

“No, really. Tell me. You must be happy giving me away because you want to do it so badly-”

“I hate it!” He bursts out. “I fucking hate it, every single time. I hate the way you look at him. I even hate how happy he makes you. I should be happy giving you away so that you can be safe, so that you can have the family that you want, but I fucking hate it.”

“Why do you hate it?” You demand to know, tears streaming down your face.

“You know-” he starts and you shake your head.

“I need you to tell me.”

Baekhyun puffs out his cheeks, he does that when he’s frustrated, when he wants to scream but you don’t have time to think about how cute it is right now.

“I hate it because I love you. I hate it because whoever your true match is, you’re mine.” He says, finally, heaving in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“Because I’m yours,” you parrot back at him, and his mouth opens, brows furrowed in a frown.

He takes a step toward you, now, but you don’t back away, and you don’t flinch when he takes your hips in his hands, tugs you toward him, claiming your mouth.

You claw at him, can’t help yourself and you don’t care that brambles are scratching your legs when he lies you down on the ground, don’t care because he’s panting your name into your ear, your name, not all those previous yous. You don’t care because you’ve chosen him, despite whatever the gods had determined to be your “true match.”

“We have to do this,” you tell him as you’re adjusting your clothes and he’s still lying there, panting.

He nods, as if humoring you, but he isn’t as listless when he starts back up the trail with you, keeping up with you and stealing kisses and making small talk.

You’re sweating by the time the two of you reach the top of the mountain, and when you look back, Baekhyun has fallen behind a bit, struggling up the hill.

You startle when thunder cracks overhead, sudden and close, but you walk back down the path to him, put your hand on his arm and he’s trembling.

“We’ve never made it this far,” he says, voice hoarse. “I don’t know what will happen next.”

“We don’t ever know what happens next, Baekhyun, but you know what happens when we don’t.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not if you let me get my arrows, we can stop all of this, we can-”

“No!” You yell. “No, shut up about that, I can make my own choices!”

You tug on his arm and he stumbles forward only a few steps before stopping again and you can see the circle of stones at the top of the hill, where you’re supposed to stand according to the legends, and you haven’t done weeks of research and travelled across the world for nothing.

You take his hand in yours, squeeze, and look into his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you promise, and you have no idea what’s about to happen and it’s raining now, cold against your skin, but you know that you have to do this.

Baekhyun looks at you and there’s nothing in his eyes but fear and uncertainty but you tug at his hand again anyway and this time he follows without resistance.

It happens so quickly after that.

You step into the circle first, and he pauses, hesitating before breaking the barrier by stepping over one of the irregular stones. The second he does, lightning cracks above your head and you cry out, frightened.

Baekhyun grabs you out of instinct or some desire to protect you and you go down, scraping your elbows against the rock and sand as you try to catch yourself. Baekhyun puts his hands on either side of your head and it’s raining so hard that it’s all you can hear, that and the thunder, and there’s lightning everywhere, lighting up his features as he looks down at you.

“I was never strong enough to do this before,” he says, nearly yelling over the storm. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t-”

He’s cut off by another crack of lightning and he seems to be… lighting up, somehow, some glow that you think is from the lightning but then you see it’s coming from inside him. He arches his back, his face lined with pain and you realize something’s happening, something bad but when you reach up to touch him, he’s giving off so much heat that the tips of your fingers burn.

“Baek,” you whisper, and he manages to focus on you again. When he does, his face… it isn’t his face, but somehow you recognize it anyway and it keeps changing, cycling through all the lifetimes you’ve shared together.

“I’ve been so many things,” he says, and his voice is strong even over the chaos. “but I’ve always been yours.”

He manages to touch his forehead to yours and you’re terrified by the storm and what’s happening and especially how it seems to pain him to even move, how he’s glowing brighter and brighter until your eyes start watering.

He says your name but it’s your name and Jacqueline and Eva and Yui and so many others, all wrapped into one, and kisses you, the bright light coming from him forcing your eyes shut as he gets closer.

When you open them, there’s no sound of the rain or thunder and the ground under you is dry, as if you’d imagined it all.

But you can taste the rainwater in your mouth. You can still taste him there, too, but he’s gone.

You scramble up, yelling out his name and there’s nothing, just the sound of the birds in the trees. Moments before, the sky had been black, but now it’s sunny again.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tears running down your throat as you stumble down the path.

You’re sobbing by the bottom of the path because there’s nothing, no evidence he was even there at all. You’re remembering what he said, how he said you’d never been that far before, but you’re wondering if he’d known, anyway.

You’re wondering if breaking the curse means that he has to die and how all of this is your fault your fault your fault.

There’s a sound in the woods and you barely realize it until there’s a man standing next to you.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

You sniffle, looking up at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s Baekhyun, just the same, wearing the wet and sandy clothes he’d been wearing just a few moments ago, but something’s wrong and you can’t rush to him like you want to.

“Baekhyun?”

He rubs the back of his neck, smiles a little sheepishly. “Is that my name? I seem to have forgotten it. I think… I think I got lost.”

You think about how this feels, how there’s not a single light of recognition in his eyes and it feels like your chest has cracked wide open. You think about how he must have felt this, over and over again, and understand why he didn’t want you to have to feel it.

You take a deep, shaky breath and wipe at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“You’re not lost,” you tell him, and take his hand.

Baekhyun looks down at your hand in his and then back up to you, a smile breaking across his face. “No, doesn’t seem like it anymore.”

You’re trying not to cry as you lead him back to the resort when he stops and you turn back to look at him.

“I know this might seem like an odd question, but… have we met before?”

It hurts but you crack a smile anyway, remembering how he’d done this for you over and over, remembering what he’d said to you a few months ago.

“Maybe in another life.”

[spectorings]

Ever since R6, I've just been a self denying Jake simp. You have helped me realized that I want to be from gently cuddled to roughly rammed to heavenly aftercare all in that order. The way this man looked at Shirley's ass and was cheeky about it, like do you have any shame? And if he didn't I would not be mad. He can throw me on the bed for shits and giggles. I would sit in his face and be shy as crap as I'm yelping in pleasure. I just I have not asked anything...this is a confession I guess or a thank you. I'm gonna say it's both. Wait I think I have a question now: How did you get into fanfiction, if I may ask? Also you're an amazing writer ☺️

Ahhh, I’m glad I helped you realise that! Jake is such a damn hottie and I love him so much, more people definitely need to appreciate that man 😫 RE6 is just such a great game and the characters are just *chefs kiss* but god yes that man could literally fuck the life out of me and I know for a fact he knows exactly what he’s doing!!!! He’s definitely a guy that’d be able to make you scream all night and then cuddle you all day

Answer - so I got into writing fanfiction about 10 years ago and I started with fanfic for Supernatural and Bleach because I read so much of it on tumblr and wattpad I just tried writing myself. I really enjoyed it and it was such a good break from school but I stopped a lot of the time and I still do, I kind of write for a good while and then take a break for far too long. I eventually got back into writing here and there for things like TVD but then a few years later I actually started writing for K-POP LOL. But honestly, I really started because it was a break from reality and I really enjoyed writing even when I wasn’t that good at it (which honestly I’m still not good) and I got into reading fanfiction by looking for things on tumblr and I just stumbled across people that wrote things and then I fell into a rabbit hole 😫

Also, I’m so glad you like my writing!! It means the world to me 🖤 also sorry it took me so long to get to this message!!

[barjogaron]

This is the continuation for my Elite AU Love & Deceit! The fanfiction can be read on ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32302612

And on Wattpad here:

Chapter Three:

Waiters and waitresses all dressed in white stand on every corner of the table. There are young men who play violins in the corners of the room, and women who tug on the strings of harps. I see my suite mates are already seated and I grab a random seat to sit in. From across from me I see Polo looking at me with hungry eyes, teasing me with a smirk. I ignore him and observe the rest of the dining hall.

Traditional European foods of all kind are already set up neatly on the white blanketed table on silver plates that are partnered with a drinking glasses and silverware. A heavenly chandelier hangs from above everything and Crisanto sits at the head of the long table. He is accompanied by other people dressed just as fancy as him. A young man with rosy cheeks and a friendly smirk, sitting next to another guy with beautiful caramel-colored skin and dark eyes. There is also a girl who sits beside them and they all bicker in a soft chatter, laughing and giggling in unison. There are a few other important looking people as well. I assume they are all Cristano's very opulent friends.

"Welcome, everyone. This meal is not only for my departure, but also in dedication to you, the new addition to the White Mansion." Crisanto smiles. Even though I shouldn't take it in other way, "new addition to the White Mansion" sounded pretty odd to say, but I shouldn't think too hard about it.

"Ah, right on time as always." Crisanto turns his heads to his sons that enter the room. Leading his brothers, dressed handsomely, is no other than the bruiting, Guzmán.

He is dressed in a black velvet suit, a suit that darkens his eyes in a strange deep incandescent green filled with obscured devilry. His hands are in his pocket, and he looks at just about everything in the room, except for in my direction. For a split second our eyes lock, and he quickly turns away clenching his jaw. I can tell he is forcing himself to avoid me. But why? I wonder what his problem is.

His brothers are dressed in a more casual formal  attire. They all sit in seats near the girls I'm living with, and some next to each other and other guests who I am not yet familiar with. By the time all the boys sat down, the only spot left for Guzmán to sit is next to me...

His powerful scent infiltrates my nostrils and I can't help but to think how good he smells. I try my best to ignore him, tapping my fingers on my thighs. I can feel him eyes looking over me, and from the corner of my eye I see his jaw do his signature clenching thing again, and he quickly turns his head away from me, taking a sudden interest in the silverware in front of him.

"Now, shall we say grace before we begin?" Crisanto smiles but it quickly fades when he looks at me, giving me an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry Nadia, forgive me. Would it be alright to say prayer? I don't want to oppress any different religious beliefs." he asks me and I shrug in my seat, trying to avoid all the eyes of the room staring at me.

"I really don't mind it." I smile nervously.

"Splendid. Come now, let us all hold hands." he tells us. I'm not so keen to the idea of holding hands with Guzmán, but I must do so. This day just keeps getting better and better...

We all stand from our seats, grabbing onto one another's hands. I am hesitant to hold Guzmán's hand, inching my hand closer to his.

"I don't bite," whispers Guzmán. "Hard." He surprises me by practically snatching my hand into his. His hands are bigger than mind, fingers slender and ringed with silver, and easily wraps around my cold hands. Unlike his, which are somewhat soft and very warm. For some odd and stupid reason, I can feel my face heating up and I literally shake my head to fight against the sensation. I hate this.

"Our gracious Heavenly Father," Crisanto begins the prayer and we all close our eyes as he continues. For some odd reason I am tempted to open my eyes, and stupidly, I do, only to see Guzmán staring at me. I close my eyes quickly and I hear a soft chuckle escape from his mouth. I didn't think he was even capable of even chuckling, let alone laughing. I can feel the heat rising, my palms getting hotter and hotter.

Please end this prayer already! Please! I mentally scream. I repeat it over and over in my head, just so I can escape Guzmán's grip. Within moments, Crisanto ends the prayer with an amen, and we all sit back down in our seats. Thank goodness.

I snatch my hand back as quick as I could, looking away and pretending Guzmán doesn't exist. Yet, this cunning young man has the audacity to lean closer and whisper into my ear.

"Don't worry, I enjoyed holding your hand too." he grins against my ear. I can feel him smiling at me. I know for sure it's with all the wrong intentions.

"Don't flatter yourself." I whisper back to him and his eyes simmer cold, but his perky lips still hold that smirk. Guzmán smirks and focuses his attention to his plate.

"I can tell you're not going to be an easy catch." he says and my mouth hangs open. I know he's trying to get under my skin. I can tell by his cheeky smile.

I scoff.

"You have another thing coming if you're thinking I'm a catch." I tell him and focus on my plate, waiting for the waiter to reveal our meals. Everyone else is socializing with one another like normal people, and here I am with the dreamy yet diabolical, Guzmán, who I barley even know—is finding it in his twisted pleasure to annoy me.

"Don't worry, little rabbit, I enjoy a good game." I look at him and I lose it.

"Game?!" I shout and everyone goes quiet. I clear my throat thinking of something of a way to quickly dig myself out of this awkwardness.

"I didn't know you fancied sports so personally, Guzmán." I shoot Guzmán a wicked look, hoping he catches on. He simply grins. Damn his smile is gorgeous, but already I despise him.

"Oh yes, basketball is a sport I love. As well as rugby, and such and such." Guzmán replies and everyone continues to their casual banter. I notice his brothers whispering to one another, chuckling.

"Nadia, I'd like you to meet my young friends who are successful in the fashion industry," Crisanto smiles at me, pointing to the gentleman with the dark blue suit and wavy brown hair. I can tell he is a model because how charming he is.

"This is Nathaniel Gray, he models for Calvin Klein. The fellow next to him is his friend, Austin, accompanied by their companion, Eleanor Steel, who is a photographer.

I wave to them and they give me friendly smiles, but I can tell they weren't really interested in the acquainting business. The waiters reveal our meals which consist of steak, lobster, salads, vegetables, fruits, and my personal favorite beverage besides lemon water and wine.

The night had went on and on about business talk and getting familiar with one another. The boys kept cackling to jokes most of the time, and I would occasionally talk to my suite mates. Carla was busy flirting with a guy named, Joseph, who was more than alluring on his part

Throughout dinner, Guzmán stayed quiet and kept to himself. He didn't make any snarky comments, or made an attempt to bother me. Every time I talked, he just...watched me. Maybe he didn't think I noticed him, or felt him looking at me. Or maybe, he didn't care if I did...

"So, Nadia, please do tell us a little bit more about yourself." Nathaniel asks, taking a sip of wine from his glass.

"There's not really much to know about me." I nervously reply. Being the center of attention was never my favorite thing to be.

"Please, enlighten us." Nathaniel insists and I sigh to myself. Guzmán is fully focused on me and I can feel the anxiety brewing within me.

"Well, I'm from Madrid, Spain, born and raised. I love singing and photography, as well as writing. Um, I'm in my last year of college at NYU, majoring in English and hope to one day publish a story of my own. I'm Twenty-one years old, and I have a loving family who I am thankful everyday for." I tell everyone and notice Guzmán has turned his attention somewhere else, burying a smile under his hand pressed against his lips.

"Well that was a perfect little bio if I ever heard one. Nice to meet you, Nadia." Nathaniel says and I smile and mentally pat myself on the back. I take a quick glance at Guzmán who drinks his wine. As soon as I look away to down the rest of my glass of wine, I think I hear him say, "This should be fun."

"What did you say?" I look at him. I meant for it to come out more with authority but I sounded like a timid school girl.

"Nothing, Princess," Guzmán grins while standing. "Enjoy your meal." he winks and walks away from the table, leaving the dining hall. Crisanto watches him leave and I pour me more wine and continue eating.

I really wonder what goes on in Guzmán's head. I sigh. So far I have survived the ongoing night. Let's see how it ends.

...

AFTER DINNER ENDED everyone said their fair-wells and goodbyes to one another. Carla kept flirting with Joseph, and the other girls were a trying to keep their drunken behavior managed until they got back to the suite. Crisanto had got into his white limousine hosted by William, and had left for the airport. The house is now officially in the supervision to me and his sons. Honestly, I don't know which terrifies me the most.

I stroll around outside on the balcony after getting changed into more comfortable clothes to sleep in, which is just a typical silky white gown. My hair in a messy bun and I am so glad to have all that make-up off my face. I put on my reading glasses and make me some tea to soothe me. I figure I'll take this peaceful moment to enjoy the night air. I tip toe outside onto the balcony while the the girls are asleep l in their rooms.

I take in the fresh late spring air. The breeze cool, just right, soothing and running across me. The balcony is big and acts as a perfect view for most of the enormous backyard of the white mansion. I see the tennis court, the basketball court, the swimming pool, the green house, and the walking trail that stretches into a land of tall trees amongst the meadow between the mansion and the woods.

I lean on the ledge of the stone balcony guarded by more white lions. Below, I notice someone standing near the swimming pool. He just stands there, looking at the large pool illuminated with the lights beneath it. I set my cup on the ledge and watch him. It's of course, Guzmán, to no surprise. I just watch him. What is he doing? Why do I care?

I continue to watch as he mindlessly watches the pool with his hands in his pocket. Then, to my surprise, Guzmán begins to slowly undress, taking off his clothes peace by peace. His skin is open to the night air. He pulls down his pants, kicking of his shoes and sliding off his socks. Finally, the biggest shock, is that he slides off his black name brand boxers and tosses them to the side. Oh my god, he's naked! Skinny dipping at that!

I can't help but to notice how his physique is literally godly, Greek defined for sure. The shape of his rear even, it's unearthly. I blush at the sight and I want to look away. In fact, I even turn my head...but instinctively, I find myself looking back.

He rakes his fingers through his hair and I am mesmerized by the intensity of his back muscles. He must work out. A lot. Catching me off guard, Guzmán turns his head back towards where I stand and I quickly duck to the floor of the balcony. I peak at him, seeing him turn back around and I cautiously stand back up. I watch as he dives into the now disturbed water, swimming naked and proud without a care in the world.

taglist: @inmyarmsyoufell @elitestan @glamorizing @jasminejc4525

[luobingmeis]

I think Undyne's determination has less to do with like something that happened in the past and more like the overlap between determination as an actual physical thing VS a spiritual thing. Whereas the amalgamates were injected with determination by Alphys, Undyne makes her OWN. You've killed her best friend. You're going to kill the love of her life. You're going to kill her mentor. You're going to kill everyone. You've killed HER. But she still has to stop you. Everyone is counting on her 1/2

Undyne's whole motif is letting the monsters of the Underground achieve their hopes and dreams. Theres a reason she is the boss fight in Waterfall, the most backstory rich area in the game. Hope and dreams have just as much weight as determination does, its what helps you defeat Asriel. And Undyne the Undying's design mimics Asriel's because in Genocide SHE is the heroine, SHE is the determined hero that defies death in order to save everyone she loves via the hopes and dreams of everyone (2/2)

Sorry I just really fucking love Undyne Undertale fhfhfndkdk she willingly letting herself be used in an experiment to help her people is Very Good tho too hmmmm

!!!!

sorry ur abt to get a whole essay i love undertale so much.........

(also i use a lot of !!! for emphasis, not bc i’m yelling omg)

(also i’m letting you know this is an incoherent mess, it is 2am here akjsdkjsdjk)

but you can definitely be right!!!! tbh your idea seems much more par for the course than the spaghetti im throwing at the wall

even then, though, it’s stll so interesting bc like!!!! undyne’s courage is undeniable, and her fight to protect the underground plays Such a huge role in her whole waterfall arc. and, in the spiritual sense, she is absolutely determined!! that just makes me WONDER though bc, like, canonically, monsters Are Not determined! they don’t have that threshold!

and then, in looking at determination in the spiritual sense, what exactly makes undyne different? is it that her desire to live and protect the underground unlocks that threshold needed for determination? at one point, could monsters be determined, but then their millennia trapped underground biologically/psychologically stripped them of that? so then could any monster in the underground, when facing high enough stakes, have that determination? or is it just undyne?

bc then i think about the other bosses in either route, like papyrus, mettaton, asgore, sans. where undyne is the monster/boss capable of possessing determination, sans is probably the one least likely to have any threshold for determination (this is bc his entire boss fight is him realizing he can no longer be an observer, he is literally the last line of defense between chara and the annihilation of all monsters). mettaton is complicated bc as a napstablook turned corporeal, i dont even know where to BEGIN with him. but then there’s papyrus and!! it feels like he should be capable of feeling determined. in both the pacifist and genocide route, he is so assured that the human has some internal goodness. while, in the genocide route, that hope could be translated to fear, that still makes me wonder: under what circumstances could a monster’s determination be unlocked? is it not solely life or death? does it require some ulterior motives (aka undyne’s whole character being protecting the underground)? and like!!! it’s just so fun to think about bc, say it is undyne’s spiritual determination being unlocked, it’s so interesting that she’s the one differentiated!! that even papyrus, a character brimming with good and happiness and love, doesn’t have that determination, but undyne, who has a similar type of passion and goodness within her, does!!!

with experiment undyne, i will admit my theory is very much uhh wild! and unhinged! and, while my theory is much more playing in the “what if’s” of the science of artificial determination, it still makes me wonder! especially in the boss fight herself. ever since i first saw her genocide boss fight, i’ve always been a bit fixated on her eye, specifically the one w/ the eye-patch that eventually seems to have Some type of arrow power. while this definitely could have just been A Design Choice (and one i stand by!!), undertale is a game that reveals its complete lore when the pacifist and genocide route are put together. thus, in a hypothetical situation, i don’t think it would be out of the question that undyne’s eye could still Do that even in a pacifist route.

but even then, there are holes to poke! such as why doesn’t she use it? if undyne has been injected with artificial determination, why is she, frankly, normal until it’s a matter of life and death?

(to cut to the punchline before i get into my bullshit: i think it’s bc, at first, it seemed as if the artificial determination just Didn’t Work and had no affect, when in reality it needed to be met with spiritual determination as well)

and, again, i know i’m playing with a lot of hypotheticals right now, and mostly this is me just kinda fun bullshit theorizing, but i think it could have something to do with the fact that she has the threshold for spiritual determination! the reason i even think that she would offer herself up to determination experimentation is bc of the loyalty and love she has for asgore and the underground. i would argue that she is just as invested in asgore’s plan as asgore himself is, and she obviously sees him as some type of father-figure. so that alone gives her this Drive to do whatever it takes for the underground to survive.

so, therefore, i think in regards to this hypothetical experiment undyne, i think it quite literally is that spiritual determination threshold combined with artificial determination

and for that, i quickly want to talk abt the amalgamates and why they tie into this:

the timeline: corpses/souls injected with determination --> no reaction --> corpses wake up and act normal --> ??? happens  --> (quickly leads to) amalgamates

and so then that once again raises the question: what differentiates undyne? 

i think, for that, we then have to consider another question: if most monsters do not have the physical determination to continue living after death, can that determination be given when they’re already dead? monsters in general already have no threshold for determination, so can that be artificially made if it never existed in the first place? 

bc while alphys’s experiment, iirc, was to see what happened when a soul was injected with determination, i think the other much needed question is if monster souls could even Handle determination

and, while we do not know specifically what went wrong with the amalgamates (aka like How did they melt together), we do know that their physical forms really were not able to handle the artificial determination, imo most likely bc they do not even have a threshold for spiritual determination

but undyne is, as you have noted, different!

so, frankly, i think you’re right! i think undyne does have an inherent spiritual determination. it’s uncommon in monsters, but her want to save the world is enough to leave her determined

however, i think That would have just been enough to keep her alive

i think it’s artificial determination that gave her that final form! to reference  back to the amalgamates, they were all creatures whose powers we had seen before, but different now and, specifically, more powerful. that very same thing could be said for undyne! her powers are, essentially, things we have seen before, but fucking to Max Intensity 

AND THEN!! AND THEN!!!!!

when you do kill heroine undyne, she doesn’t turn to dust first

she melts first, and then turns to dust!!!!!

and, honestly, it’s that small detail that sent me down this rabbit hole, bc the only ever time we’ve seen monsters melted together are the amalgamates!

i think the main difference between heroine undyne and the amalgamates is the fact that undyne, at first, had No Reaction to the determination at first bc, since she most likely already had this secret threshold for spiritual determination, it wasn’t the Biggest of changes. it wouldn’t have had such a drastic reaction on her physical form bc, even if she didn’t know it yet, it wasn’t an entirely foreign substance

the amalgamates, however, aka monsters who had no spiritual determination, could only handle the artificial determination for an unknown amount of time before their bodies began rejecting the chemicals and becoming..... that

of course, then, this leaves me with even more questions, such as could undyne sustain this final form? would her body eventually give out, overcome by determination? was this form only meant for life or death situations?

and uhhh i think this is the end!! if you made it this far and are thinking to urself “damn you’re really an english major when you write like this?? this isn’t even comprehensible” do not fret!! i know this theory is kinda a shitshow, and it’s one of those things where i can keep myself up all night thinking abt this and talking myself in circles bc there are some points that i think have strengths and other points that are probably pretty weak

basically though!! i see the connection between artificial determination and undyne through the fact that her form actually changes, the reveal of her legit power eye, the way her attacks have been altered, and the fact that she melts at the end (akin to the amalgamates’ appearances) before poofing into dust

this has been,,,, a shitshow i am so sorry i hope this was at least somewhat understandable ajkdsjkdsjk

[dreamingofmilk]

Poetic Justice

This was a joy to write. Shout out to @chaneajoyyy and @shaekingshitup for doing this challenge.

Synopsis: You meet Erik at an open mic night and it changes everything

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 2597

Coming to open mic night at your favorite cafe was worth it. You only just found out about the elusive and secretive gathering of college individuals. But you made it your goal to go at least once a week. Sometimes it was hard, school work piles up quickly when you are having fun. 

But tonight, you had to get out no matter how many essays and online homework you needed to complete. And you regretted nothing once he took the stage. Tall dark and handsome, Erik Stevens, the poet had you entranced. His poetic stories about black struggle and black love pushed you further down the rabbit hole than you could ever imagine. 

This man seemed to be everything you could ever imagine. And you were so happy to have a seat up close and to the far right of the stage where you could fangirl in peace. 

You’d seen this beauty around campus a few times, but never once did you imagine that he had such a way with words and his voice was that smooth. And the way he strummed the guitar… You only hoped he could strum your clit that delicately. 

You watched his set intensely, his every move an imprint in your mind. You wanted to record it to play it back later, but you knew that would be wildly inappropriate. Snaps filled the room as he finished up and he smiled and bowed his head in acknowledgment. The man knew he was fine. 

Erik Stevens stepped off the stage and packed away his guitar as another talented student took the stage to share her beautiful voice. You watched his broad back shuffle around until he went behind the curtains and came around. The exit for the stage right in front of your high table. 

Erik’s eyes watched you closely, you bit your lips gently when his eyes raked over your body with lust. Damn. How can Just one look from this man have you ready to risk it all? You smiled shyly at Erik when you made eye contact again. Erik sent you a wink and a smile so genuine it made your thighs clench. He then quietly made his way through the crowd to join his friends. 

You smiled softly to yourself then settled in to enjoy the rest of the night with your friend. 

————-

Early morning classes were not your thing. But when one of your major classes is only offered at 8 am on Tuesday’s, you had no choice. Hence why you were in the juice line in your increasingly crowded dining hall. You desperately wanted some freshly juice fruits and were willing to wait in a long line to get it. That or you were looking for any excuse to be late for class. 

“Excuse me. Do you know what juices they have today?” A deep voice from behind you asked. 

“No but it looks so good. Soo… goood…” your voice trailed off when you turned around to talk to the stranger. Erik again. You smiled a polite smile and turned back forward, your heart racing in your chest. Fuck. He was even more attractive up close and in the light. And he smelled so good too. 

Erik smiled and held out his hand for you to shake. You gently put your hand in his. 

“I’m Erik.” His voice washed over you. “You were at the show the other night. You look good in blue.” He complimented your dress from the other night. 

“Thanks.” You told him your name. “You’re a great artist.” You were up in line to order your juice. 

“Thank you babygirl.” His eyes dropped to your lips before flitting back up to meet your eyes. 

“You sitting down to eat? Maybe I could join you?” His voice was hopeful as you stepped up to order. 

Your heart sunk. “Erik I really wish I could but I have to get to class, I'm already late enough waiting for this drink. Next time though. I promise.” Instinctually you held out your pinky finger for him to seal in the promise. You blushed and went to remove yourself. 

“Wait. A promise is a promise and has to be sealed in some way.” He wraps his pinky finger around yours and brings both your hands up so that you can both kiss your fist. The two of you break away, eyes intense and your heart beating out of your chest. 

“Next time.” You smile and step back over to the juice counter. 

He smiles as you leaned forward to accept your drink. “Have a good day.” His eyes watched you as you walked past him to the exit of the dining hall, a smirk on his lips as his eyes fell to your ass. 

————

Laundry day was one of your faves on campus. Usually you did it so late at night that you had the laundry room to yourself so you would sit on one of the machines, playing games on your phone. 

You’d just beaten a really difficult level and you were up out of your seat cheering in circles for yourself. 

“Damn, if I knew this is the type of introduction I would get, I would ask you to announce at poetry nights.” Erik smiled at you. You turned around quickly, a heat creeping up your body as you saw him leaning against one of the machines. A smirk sat on his full lips and his arms crossed tightly on his chest. 

“Don’t stop now, the only thing I would change is you screaming my name.” Erik’s smirk grew bigger as your ears burned. 

“Shut up.” You smiled bashfully and climbed back on top of the washing machine. Erik approached slowly coming to stand in front of your legs. 

“What’s got you so excited anyway?” Erik took your phone from his hand and started dying of laughter. 

“Candy Crush!” He laughed loudly, you smiled in a daze watching his beautiful smile. “Well I guess I should take it as a win.” He handed you back your phone. “At least it’s not no guy in your phone making you smile like that. I wanna make you smile like that.” Erik stared up at you. 

You looked away, he just didn’t know what he was doing to you. Or he did and he was determined to make you become a massive puddle. Well he succeeded at least halfway, there’s a massive puddle in your shorts right now. 

“Tell me… what do I have to do to make you smile like that?” Erik’s soft hand found its way on the top of your knee. Very gently, his eyes asking for permission. 

You shrugged and nodded at the same time. Erik laughed. “What does that mean?” 

It means that you can eat me out on this washing machine! You screamed in your head. 

“It means that I don’t know what you have to do.” Erik stepped closer bracing his hands on either side of you. 

“You know, I’ve seen you around a lot before. You’re so pretty that I can always pick you out of a crowd. But I never had the courage to speak to you. That is until I saw you at my set.” Erik spoke softly, a small smile found its way onto your lips. 

“There we go. Got something. So I just gotta compliment your fine ass and your face will shine brighter than the sun.”

“Erik if you don’t take your poetic ass somewhere. Don’t you have clothes to wash?” You say smartly. 

“Nah. I just saw you in here and I had to come speak. You see now that we are friends you ain’t never getting rid of me.” Erik gently rubbed the outside of your thigh. “Besides, you owe me company for a meal.”

You rolled your eyes remembering your pinky promise in the dining hall. 

“After your clothes are finished you are coming with me for a midnight meal.” Erik’s eyes twinkled once you agreed and you wondered what his idea of a midnight meal was. 

________

You sighed and rubbed your face. Fuck this paper! You figured if you went to the library really early you'd be able to focus and get it done, but you were struggling. Coffee wouldn't even help. You'd been at it for 4 hours and barely had 2 pages finished. It was time to cut your losses and try again later. You were putting your last book in your bag when you heard that all too familiar voice.

"What are you doing here so early Y/N?" Erik looked down at you, a smirk on his face. 

Why did you always run into this man? Ever since the open mic night it seemed like you saw him all the time. 

You frowned, "I was trying to get a ten page paper done, but I can't focus."

He scoffed, "You took Mandrake didn't you? That's where you fucked up. Everyone knows she assigns a big paper at the beginning of the semester."

You couldn't help the pout that formed on your lips, "I didn't know!"

"Let me help you. I have some work I need to finish too. Maybe we can help each other focus and get out of here sooner." He smiled sympathetically. 

He sat down across from you and pulled out his materials. He also pulled out a pair of gold rimmed glasses that made him look sexy as fuck. Who the hell makes glasses look that good? 

You couldn't help but be nosy and when he pulled out a book with Freud's name on it. You had to ask.

"Are you a psych major?"

Erik followed your eyes to the book and smiled. "I'm a double major. Psychology and African American Studies."

You whistled "Oh so he's woke and smart."

"I want to be a psychologist for at risk black kids. I went through a lot of shit when I was a kid and it fucked me up for years. I want to prevent that from happening to anyone else." Erik shrugged. 

"That's amazing, Erik." And you meant it. What a great way to make an impact on the community. You already really liked Erik, but this took the cake. He really was a great guy.

He shrugged, his embarrassment clear. "I wish there was someone that could have helped me back then. It would have saved me from making a lot of dumb decisions."

You grabbed his hands, "Seriously Erik. That's really cool. You should be proud of it. You're going to do great things."

Erik's thumb rubbed over your hand and he smiled softly before raising your hand to kiss it. "Thank you, babygirl. I really appreciate that."

You felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. You've never felt chemistry like this with a guy, and you had a feeling you never would again. Erik was someone special.

Erik smirked at you. "Now stop ogling me and get moving on that paper."

Your ears burned as you focused on your laptop, his laugh wrapping around you like a warm blanket. 

You did peep him sneaking glances at you while you both worked though, so you considered it a win regardless.

________

You rushed out of class. The professor held everyone an extra 10 minutes, and you were running late for your next class. Once you got closer to the quad you noticed there was a crowd. You didn't really care what was going on, you didn't have time to see what had everyone so fascinated. You had just got to where the crowd was but you heard the most beautiful music and you couldn't help but move closer to see where it was coming from. 

And to your surprise standing there, looking more gorgeous than anyone had the right to, was Erik Stevens. The sun lit his profile perfectly, his brown skin glowing in the light. His fingers glided across the guitar, the music lulling you into a state of peace you've never experienced. You couldn't look away from him. He was so captivating. Before you realized it you moved across the quad and stood in the front of the crowd, but off to the side. Erik closed his eyes and his body began swaying to the music. The notes sounded very familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on where you recognized it from. After a few seconds of strumming Erik opened his mouth and started singing India Arie 'Ready for Love'.

You were absolutely sure your jaw was on the ground. You had no idea he could sing! His voice was beautiful, smooth and rich, like the most expensive Hennessy. He glided through the notes effortlessly, adding a few of his own runs and techniques to make it his own. You believed every word he was saying, his voice was so honest. He really sounded like he was in love with someone and it just made his performance that much better.

Someone next to you walked closer to him and dropped a few bills in his guitar case. As they walked back to their spot Erik opened his eyes, instinctually following them. When his eyes met yours you felt your heart rate pick up and your breath catch in your throat. Erik looked right into your eyes and kept singing, a slight smile on his lips. This man was LETHAL. It felt like he was serenading you. You couldn't help but smile back, you were pretty sure there were actual hearts in your eyes. 

I am ready for Y/N

The two of you couldn't look away from each other. You could actually feel a force pulling you to him. The crowd erupted in shocked chatter when he slipped up and sang your name. Erik just smiled and kept going, but you could hardly breathe. You've never heard your name sound so beautiful before. You had a big dopey smile on your face but you couldn't get rid of it if you wanted to.

He strummed the guitar, the notes tapering into silence. As soon as he finished the crowd erupted into loud cheers and applause. As everyone dispersed you made your way over to him. 

"That was amazing Erik. I had no idea you could sing."

He smiled softly, "Yeah, it's not something I do often."

"It was beautiful. You really should sing more often." It'd be a shame for him to hide his talent. 

He smirked. "Sing more in general or sing to you more?"

You looked away in embarrassment, your ears burning. "Why did you say my name?"

"It was an accident. When I saw you I got nervous and made a freudian slip I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck, his smile sheepish.

You pouted, "So you didn't mean it?" 

He smirked, "Of course I meant it. I did say a Freudian slip. You were on my mind so I said your name."

You rolled your eyes, but your tone was teasing. "There's my psychology nerd. I was starting to get worried."

He chuckled and moved in closer, until his chest brushed up against you. He reached out a hand and fixed a piece of your hair before cupping your face. "Be my girl and there's a lot more where that came from."

You smiled, looking into his eyes. "Yes."

His smile was bright. Erik grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you. You may have made a Freudian slip of your own when he sucked your soul out of your mouth.

Taglist: @aislinnsilver @wawakanda-btch @chaneajoyyy @marvelmaree

[librarianbusdriver]

Ted: Okay, where was I? You were telling us how you met mom. In excruciating detail. Right. So, back in 2005, When I was 27, My two best friends got engaged, And it got me thinking, maybe I should get married.

*Sigh*

And then I saw robin. She was incredible. I just knew I had to meet her. That's where your uncle barney came in. I suggest we play a little game I like to call Wait, no, no, no. We're not playing "have you met ted?" Hi. Have you met ted? So I asked her out. But after just one date, I was in love with her Which made me say something stupid. I think I'm in love with you. What?! Oh, dad. So then what happened? Nothing. I mean, I'd made a complete fool of myself. So, a week went by, and I decided not to call her. So you're not gonna call her? You went from, "I think I'm in love with you"

Trapped, the same hollow, dull story repeating again, and again, and again all around me. No way to change its course. No way to do anything but just... watch.

To "I'm not gonna call her"? I wasn't in love with her, okay? I was briefly in love with the abstract concept Of getting married. It had absolutely nothing to do with robin. Robin. Hi. Look who I ran into. Since when do you guys know each other? Oh, since about... Here. Lily recognized me From the news and... Hello, sailor! They just got engaged. Well, I should get back to the station. See you, guys. Nice seeing you, ted. Yeah, you, too. Thanks. What? Damn it! I'm in love with her. As your sponsor, I will not let you relapse. You blew it, it's over, move on. I don't know, I just have this feeling She's the future mrs. Ted mosby. ( Lily squeaks) Lily, you squeaked? She said something about me, didn't she? Come on, spill it, red! Fine. So, what do we think of ted? ( Iaughs) Ted's something else. Huh. I'm gonna spin that as good. Lots of guys are something, I'm something else. Comes on a little strong. But, that's part of my charm. But, that's part of his charm. Oh, totally. I mean, he's sweet, he's charming, He's just looking for something A little bit more serious than I am. I mean, the most I can handle right now is something casual. This just stays between us, right? Are you kidding? This flapper? Fort knox. Oops. She wants casual. Okay, I'll be casual. I'm going to be a mushroom cloud of casual. Cause it's a game... I want her to skip To the end and do the whole happily-ever-after thing. But you don't get there unless you play the game. So, are you going to ask her out? Yeah... No! I can't ask her out, Because if I ask her out, I'm asking her out. So, how do I Ask her out without asking her out? Did you guys get high? I got it. I don't ask her out. I invite her To our party next Friday. We're having a party next Friday? We are now. Casual. Like inviting a hundred people over just to mack on one girl. Oh, and lily, that's my leg. You waited five minutes to tell me that? All right, so call her up. No, calling's not casual. I just got to bump into her somewhere. Now, if only I knew her schedule, I could arrange a chance encounter. That's great, ted... you'll be the most casual stalker ever. Put that ring on her finger, lily had been, Well, extra affectionate. ( chuckling ): Baby, no. I have a 25-page paper on constitutional law due Monday. Hey, I'm just sitting here, wearing my ring,

Wallachia, how I miss you.

My beautiful ring. ( Typing) Kind of makes wearing other stuff seem wrong. Like my shirt. Kind of don't want to wear my shirt anymore. Or... My underwear. That's right, I'm not wearing any. ( Sighs ) No underwear? Not even slightly. Ted: Guys. Boundaries. Robin ( on tv ): Thanks, bill. I'm reporting from the razzle dazzle supermarket On 75th and columbus... 75th and columbus. Game on! Where four-year-old leroy ellenberg has climbed Inside a grab-a-prize machine and gotten stuck. ( Panting ) And, all in the pursuit of a stuffed, purple giraffe. For metro news 1, I'm robin trubotsky. Engineer: We're clear. Robin: Thanks, don. Whew. Ted. Robin, wow! What are the odds? Oh, you know, just, uh, shopping for, uh, dip. I love dip. I mean, I don't love dip, I like dip... ( chuckles ) so, uh, hey, you, uh, Reporting a news story or something? Yeah, kid stuck in a crane machine. How sweet of you to call it news. Wow. Kid in a crane machine. Mm-hmm. You just had to have that toy, didn't you? Couldn't play the game like everyone else. You're all sweaty! Cute kid. Um, you know, It's so funny I should run into you. We're, uh, we're having a party next Friday, If you feel like swinging by. But, you know, whatever. Oh, I'm going back home next weekend. It's too bad it's not tonight. It is... It's tonight. This Friday. Did I say next Friday? Sorry, I guess I've been saying next Friday all week. But, yeah, it's tonight, the, uh, the party's tonight. But, you know, whatever. ( Phone rings) Hello? Hey, am I interrupting anything? No, no, I'm just writing my paper. Hitting the books. Yeah, well, you and lily Might want to put some clothes on. We're throwing a party in two hours. Okay, bye. What are you gonna do when robin shows up? Okay, I got it all planned out. She steps through the door... and where's ted? Not eagerly waiting by the door. No, I'm across the room at my drafting table, Showing some foxy young thing all my cool architect stuff. So, robin strolls over, and I casually give her one of these: "hey, what's up?" She says, "hey, nice place, et cetera, et cetera." And then, I say, "well, make yourself at home." And, I casually return to my conversation. Then, an hour later... "oh, you're still here?" I say, like I don't really care, But it's a nice surprise. And then, very casually: Both: The roof! Get her up to the roof, And the roof takes care of the rest. What's so special about the roof? Oh, the moon, the stars, the shimmering skyline. You can't not fall in love on that roof. We do it up there, sometimes. Solid plan, my little friend. But, may I suggest one little modification. Barney: That foxy young thing you were chatting up, Take her up to the roof and have sex with her. Crazy monkey style... That's not the plan. Barney: Well, it should be the plan. I mean, look at her. Ted, look at her. She's smoking! Thank you! Yeah... But, she's not robin! Exactly! Ted, let's rap. Statistic: At every new york party, There's always a girl who has no idea Whose party she's at. She knows no one you know, And you will never see her again. Do you see where I'm going with this? Barney, I don't think so. ( groans ) Scoping.

I miss it all. The childhood spent in that bountiful castle, the beauty of those rolling green fields...

( Imitates sonar beeping ) Scoping. Man, you're a dork. ( Accelerates beeping sound ) Target acquired! Now it's time we play a little game I like to call "have you met ted?" oh, come on, not this. Hi. Have you met ted? No. Hi. Hi. Do you know marshall? Lily? Woman: No. Hmm. Do you know anyone at this party? I work with carlos. Excuse me. Anyone know a carlos? No. No. On a silver platter. Bon appétit. I don't think so. Your loss, her gain. Excuse me. Can I show you the roof? It's magical up there. Sure. Ted: Wait, wait. Hey, hey, I got that roof reserved. Dude, robin's not coming. Hey, she's going to show up! She'll show up. Ted: She didn't show up. At least it was a great party. I ate, like, four whole cans of dip. You always know what to say, old friend. ( Phone ringing ) It's robin. No, no, not right away... got to seem casual. ( Ringing continues ) Hello? I'm so sorry I missed your party. Who is this? Meredith? Robin. Oh, robin! Hey! Yeah, I, uh, guess you never showed up, did you? No, I got stuck at work. But, they finally got that kid out of the crane machine. Did he get to keep the purple giraffe? Yeah, they let him keep all the toys. He was in there a long time, And little kids have small bladders. ( Chuckles ) robin: I wish your party Was tonight. It is... the party's tonight. Yeah, uh... It's a two-day party, 'cause that's just how we roll. Uh, so, if you want to swing by, you know, it's casual. See ya. So, that was robin. What are you Doing to me, man?! I got a paper to write! I know! Sorry! It's terrible! I'll buy more dip! Ted! Ted, wait! Get french onion! Can you believe this guy? I got a paper to write. Okay, fine. But, it's got to be, like, super-quick, And no cuddling after. I'm the luckiest girl alive. You were so right about the roof! The roof! The roof is on fire, ted! That girl from last night... I took her back to my place, Spun her around a couple times and sent her walking. She will never find her way back, and there she is. How did she get here? Did you invite her? I have no idea who that is. She said she works with carlos. Who's carlos? I don't know any carlos. ( Frustrated groan)

The conquests... the blood of my enemies spilled, and villages burnt to the ground in my name.

Hi, you! You're back! I sure am. Mmm. Come on, sweetie, I need a drink. "Sweetie"? Really? ( Barely audible ): Help. Whoa! Whoa, rabbits! Come on, I got that roof reserved. All right. So, it's over between me and works-with-carlos girl. Whoa! That was fast. Yeah. I was trying to think, What's the quickest way to get rid of a girl you just met? I think I'm in love with you. What?! Thanks, bro. Glad I could help. What the... No, no, no. Come on. Sorry, ted. Great. What am I going to do when robin shows up? She'll show up. She didn't show up. All right. We threw two parties. Everybody had fun. Everybody wanged, everybody chunged. Now, the kid has got to get to work, And the kid is not to be disturbed. Repeat after me. I will not have sex with marshall. Both: I will not have sex with marshall. ( Phone ringing ) It's robin. Hello? Hi, ted. Amanda? Oh, denise! Sorry, you totally sounded like amanda. It's robin. Oh, robin. Hi. I totally wanted to come. I got stuck at work again. I feel like I live there. I'm sorry I missed your party, again. Hey, ain't no thing but a chicken wing, mamacita. Who am I? I guess there's no chance your two-dayer Turned into a three-dayer? It did, indeed. The party continues tonight. Yeah. Uh, last night, people were like, "keep it going, bro. Party trifecta." Wow! Okay, well, I'll be there. Great! See you tonight. So, that was robin. So, I threw a third party for robin... On a Sunday night. Well, this is lame. Lame... Or casual? Lame. Or casual? Hey, law books. Ready for a little 15 minute recess? Sorry, baby, I got to work. I need all my blood up here. Has anybody seen an introduction to contract tort And restitution statutes from 1865-1923? Anybody seen a big-ass book? All ( muttering ): No. Woman: Hello, barney. Of course. You look well. Is it weird they invited both of us? Who? Who invited you? No one even knows who you are! I understand you're hurt, but you don't have to be cruel. Carlos was right about you. Who is carlos?! Hey, where the hell is my...? Oh...! Okay... An introduction to contract tort And restitution statutes from 1865-1923 Is not a coaster! Ted, I'm jeopardizing my law career so you can throw not one, Not two, but three parties for some girl that you just met Who's probably not even going to show up! I mean, where is she, ted, huh? Where's robin? Hi. Hi, robin. Wow. So, you threw all these parties for me? No. Oh, you thought that... No! I... Okay, yes. You got me. One of the reasons I threw these parties Was so that I could introduce you To, um, this guy. Uh, I figured, you know, Since it didn't work out between us And now we can just laugh about it... ( laughs weakly) Anyway, robin, this is... Carlos. Oh! Oh! She's still talking to carlos. I can still win this. I-it's not over. Okay, buddy. Time for the tough talk. Robin seems great, but let's look at the facts. You want to get married. And right now, There's a million women in new york Looking for exactly you. But robin ain't one of them. She's not just one of them. She's the one. Yeah, well, the one is heading up to the roof. What are you going to do? Nothing. It's a game. I got to just keep playing it. ( Rock music playing ) Ted... Hey, carlos, can you give us a minute? Hey, no sweat, hombre. See ya. Robin...

Will I ever be freed of this damnable place?

Look, I didn't throw this party To set you up with carlos, Or the one before that, or the one before that. I threw these parties because I wanted to see you. Well, here I am. There's something here, look, unless I'm crazy. You're not crazy. I don't know, ted. I mean, we barely know each other And you're looking at me with that look. And, it's like... Like, "let's fall in love and get married And have kids and drive them to soccer practice." I'm not going to force sports on them Unless they're interested. ( Iaughing ) It's a great look. But you're looking at the wrong girl. No, I'm not. I don't want to get married right now, maybe ever. I'd feel like I'd either have to marry you Or break your heart, and... I just couldn't do either of those things. Just like you can't turn off the way you feel. Click. Off. Let's make out. What? What? That was the off switch. And I turned it off. I mean, look, sure, yes, I want to fall in love, get married, blah, blah, blah. But, on the other hand... You, me, the roof. There's no off switch. There is an off switch. And it's off. No, it's not. Yes, it is. No, it's not. Yes... It is. No, it's not. You're right. There's no off switch. God, I wish there was an off switch! Me, too. ( Both laughing ) ( both muttering nervously ) What do we do now? We could be friends. Oh... I know it sounds insincere when people say that, But... We could. I don't know, robin. I've made such a jackass of myself here. We start hanging out, every time I see you It'll be like, "oh, that's right. I'm a jackass." You're not a jackass. Look, I'm sorry. I only moved here in April and I'm always working And I just haven't met a lot of good people so far. But I understand. Well, uh, maybe in a few months, After it's not so fresh, We could all, uh, you know, get a beer. Yeah. That sounds good. I'll see you, ted. Or, you know, now. We could all get a beer now. I'd like that. My friends are going to love you... Like you, you know, as a friend. Jackass. Unbelievable. That's just a recipe For disaster. They work together! Are you jealous? Oh, please. What does carlos have that I don't? A date tonight. All: Oh! Stop the tape. Rewind. ( Imitates tape rewinding ) a date tonight. All: Oh! I'm not sure I like her. Hey, don't you have a paper to write? Dude, you're talking to the kid. I'm going to knock back this beer. I'm going to knock back one more beer. I'm going to write a 25-page paper. I'm going to hand it in and I'm going to get an "a." My name is rufus and that's the trufus. ( Iaughter ) Ted: He got a b-minus. But still, 25 pages in one night, b-minus? The kid was good. At least let me buy you a beer. Come on, I'll buy everyone a beer. I'll help carry. You know something, ted? What? You are a catch. You're going to make some girl very happy. And I am going to help you find her. Well, good luck. I mean, maybe new york's just too big a town. I mean, there's millions of people in this city. How, in all this mess, Is a guy supposed to find the love of his life? I mean, where do you even begin? Hi. Have you met ted? ( Music rises over dialogue )

I do not know if I can, but I must.

[STAB STAB STAB STAB STAB]

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOUUU-

[retire61already]

A Brief* Guide To Some Vintage CBJ Players

(*I lied, it's not brief at all)

Sometimes your team has half their players end up on IR and you start thinking about the guys who used to play here.

Then you wonder if they're watching the Clevelumbus Blue Monsters fight for a playoff spot and get nostalgic and fall down an old school highlight rabbit hole.

Then you wonder how many people know who some of these guys are anymore, and whoops suddenly your hand slips and you write a thing. I dont know what else I'm going to do with this so I may as well actually post it.

Enjoy this long ass thing that I can't put under a cut because I'm on mobile.

Rusty Klesla

His real name is Rostislav but no one but broadcasters ever actually called him that.

he was easily the hottest player in any room he walked into. The Alex Wennberg of the 2000s.

The first ever CBJ draft pick!

Went on to play for the Coyotes when they also sucked terribly and after being traded to the Sabres, basically he refused to report and retired instead of being forced to play for yet another terrible team. Fair enough.

Was supposed to be like Ryan Murray but that's not actually what happened due to being rushed into the league. Still a solid player in his own right and probably actually still holds our blocked shots record as of 2020, but won't ever get credit for it because he played for three years before the league bothered to record blocked shots as a stat.

Created an early franchise meme by ending every interview with our rinkside reporter Jim Day (you may also know him if you're a Cincy Reds fan, also if you are I'm so sorry) with "thank you Jim Day".

Went viral toward the end of his time in Phoenix for having to be stretchered off the ice but giving the crowd a thumbs up. Was okay, thankfully.

Jody Shelley

Yes, this is the TV guy. Our happy optimist TV color commentator was an absolutely fucking terrifying heavyweight enforcer.

He was called the scariest guy in the league to fight by Georges Laraque, a force of nature in his own right.

When he wasn't terrifying the opposition he was busy being the nicest person and spent huge amounts of his free time giving back to the community.

About the only guys who've done as much for the community as him are Foligno and Rick Nash.

Once fought his childhood hero Bob Probert and called him Mr. Probert while challenging him. Has not stopped kicking himself since.

A Nova Scotia Sports Hall of Fame inductee as of 2019!

Gerard Gallant used to use him on the power play as a goalie screen because he's basically a living refrigerator. One time two goals went in off of him in one night and the crowd lost it like he just scored in game seven of the finals. He never scored more than three a year. Enforcers were... interesting.

Traded to San Jose in 07-08 and went on to play for NYR and Philly before retiring and coming home. Played for Torts with Brandon Dubinsky and fellow CBJ alum Artem Anisimov in New York.

Torts still loves him. The team took advantage of this by using Jody to spring a tribute for his 600th win on him because Jody was the only guy who could get away with it (warning: Torts swears lol)

One time in the first few years the team existed my dad saw him on the morning news being interviewed about media day. The newscaster asked if they all put their fake teeth in for team pictures and Jody replied "nah we all share the same set and have to take turns. That's why it takes so long." This man is an unsung legend.

Rick Nash

You clearly saw this coming based on my URL.

The artist formerly known as (and also currently known as) Big Dick Rick.

CBJ took him first overall in 2002 and he was a Blue Jacket till 2012. He's currently our special assistant to the general manager.

The youngest person ever to lead the league in goal scoring. Not even Ovechkin won the Rocket Richard at 19. Suck it Ovi.

It is seriously impossible to overstate the level of skill this man had before the concussions. He was a Team Canada staple every damn year for very good reasons.

His time with CBJ is best known for this ridiculous goal.

Held basically every possible CBJ record for forwards until Cam and PLD started breaking them over the past few years.

Absolutely massive impact on Columbus youth hockey. The number of kids enrolled in hockey in central Ohio went from like 50 to 5000 in his first several years.

Became team captain at all of 23 under some real tough circumstances.

At 24 years old he dragged a relatively untalented team of misfits kicking and screaming into the playoffs.

The coach at the time pulled him out of practice because he was overexerting himself so hard.

Traded to the Rangers in 2011 under controversial circumstances. The GM claimed Rick wanted out, Rick said he told the GM he'd offered to waive his contract's no-move clause if the GM thought it could help the rebuild and that was being twisted.

Was very desperately missed until he shoved our goalie, at which point he was booed until his career ended.

Rick said after his retirement that Bob was taking little whacks at him all night and didn't shove him till Bob speared him in the junk, which is a perfectly valid reason to shove someone tbqh.

Retired after 15 years with CBJ, NYR, and Boston due to concussion symptoms.

Nobody has ever been loved like we loved Rick Nash. People adore Foligno but it was almost a mania with Nash. He was the only truly good thing we had in the dark ages.

For all the booing people straight up cried on Thank You Rick night, then cried again when he said he'd made up his mind that if his health had let him play again he was going to be a Blue Jacket.

I still haven't come to terms with the fact that he wasn't able to retire here. I am not even close to the only longtime fan who needs a grief counselor or something over this.

[sleepynobie]

When you wear that famous rabbit hat

(A/N: It’s been a while since I last write fanfics LOL. So pardon every flaws in here lol. Also you know what I’m talking about about the rabbit hat xD)

Hawks

"Is that the rabbit hat I see everywhere in the shops?"

You turn around your seat while keep squeezing the paws which move the rabbit's ears one by one and see Hawks who enter your office.

"Yeap, I got it from my fan. It's cute right?" You giggle like a kid who's excited to play with their new toy.

"It is. And you make it 10 times cuter" Hawks smiles before approaching you to see you up close and takes a picture of you with his phone.

"Shut up. You need to stop that flirting habit" You say with a blush on your face.

"But I'm not flirting. I'm complimenting" He says innocently and puts the phone back in his pocket.

"Wanna try wearing it?" You ask him but remove the rabbit hat anyway. You then give it to him which he openly accepts and lets you put it on his head.

"Ohhh. You look tamer and more innocent than usual" You say before taking a picture with your phone.

"Is that so?" Hawks smirks before putting his hands on the armrest and leans towards you.

Normally, the scenarios ends with a kiss. However, you just have to squeeze one of the paws which raises one of the rabbit's ear up. It ruins the moment and you giggle like a kid at how cute Hawks looks like.

Hawks sighs before taking it off and puts it back to you "You can have it back"

Bakugou

Bakugou never knows how hard it is to concentrate during a workout when his crush is literally in front of him with a rabbit hat, trying to get his attention.

"Katsuki... When are you going to stop working on your arms?" You whine while squeezing the paws that make the ears go up and down.

"Shut up! You're distracting me!" Bakugou exclaims in annoyance but you disregard him and continue to whine.

"Katsukiiii I'm hungryyy. Let's go to McDonaldssss"

"Are you serious? You're going to get fat if you keep eating McD on midnight" He says bluntly which makes you flinch.

"Shut up! At least I exercise in the morning!" You try to defend yourself before pouting and play with the rabbit hat again.

"Just go with someone else-"

"But I want to go with you!" You interject and lean closer to him which makes him blush. Moreover, you add the damage by keep squeezing the paws multiple times which make the ears flap a lot of times and act cute "Pleaseeeee?"

"AGHHHHHH YOU'RE SO ANNOYING!!!" Bakugou exclaims angrily and ends his workout which startle you as you step back "Fine, let's go"

"Really?! Yeayyyy!!" You cheer and smile brightly. Bakugou sighs and quickly packs his things as you two go to the McD. However, throughout the 'date', Bakugou can't see you eye to eye because for some damn reasons, you're too cute when eating the fries with the rabbit hat on your head.

Todoroki

"H-Hey Todoroki..." You smile sheepishly with a blush due to embarrassment as Todoroki spots you in the living room who are playing (?) with the rabbit hat.

"What are you doing?" He asks and sits next to you which makes you sigh.

"You know the daycare that I'm volunteering as the babysitter right now?"

Todoroki nod and you continue "Well, one of the babysitters ask me to create a game so I'm thinking to use this rabbit hat and squeeze the paws, while following the beat of the song. Anyway, I thought you go back to your family's place?"

"I do but you're here alone so I thought I should come to visit once in a while" Todoroki says in the most innocent and calmest tone which makes you blush.

"Thank you.. By the way since you're here, maybe you can check if I do okay and it's not hard enough to follow?"

"Sure" Todoroki nods and you thank him before starting the song which happens to be baby shark because it's the most popular kid song at the moment. You start squeezing one paw to another and follow the beat of the song before squeezing both at the end of the line. You repeat it couple of times until the song ends before asking for Todoroki's opinion.

"So? Do you think it's too much? Is it hard to follow for kids?"

"...."

"Todoroki..?" You tilt your head and he flinches a little before apologizing.

"You look like a bunny" He says out of nowhere before smiling a little "It's adorable"

Immediately, you blush furiously and subconsciously squeeze the paws that raise the ears up "U-Umm t-thanks"

"You're welcome" He says and you end up forgetting to ask for his feedback because you're literally in a mess from getting a compliment from Todoroki.

Kirishima

"Kirishima, look what I bought" You smile excitedly and show the rabbit hat that you've been wanting to buy.

Kirishima turns his attention from the homework before blushing at how cute you are and try to keep calm as he smiles "G-Great! It suits you"

"Really?" You grin sheepishly and proceed to squeeze the paws to raise the ears one by one "I thought it looks weird to me but I just want to play with the ears. Try it!"

You hand the paws to Kirishima which ends up having you to lean to him since it's short. It's a little too much on Kirishima but he still tries it anyway before looking amazed at the movement of the ears.

But then all of the sudden, you decide to act cute because you want to see how Kirishima reacts on it (you watch too much kpop stuff that you're falling for the aegyo culture).

"Kirishima, play with me please?" You say in the cutest way possible with puppy eyes and make his hands squeeze both paws to make the ears go up.

At this moment, the coolness meter breaks as Kirishima is blushing like hell that his face is literally the same color as his hair. It makes you laugh a little before apologizing.

"I'm sorry, it was kinda cringy, wasn't it?"

"N-N-No!" Kirishima tries to respond quickly but he was stuttering "I think it was cute"

The compliment makes you blush a little before you smile "Thanks. Anyway, I should go because I think I'm bothering you at this point"

"No you're not!" He shakes his head.

"Nah, I shall leave" You say and move back before turning around to leave. However, you send an encouraging message before you leave which further messes him up.

"Kirishima, fighting!" You smile and squeeze the paws twice to make the ears go up two times. Again, it makes Kirishima blush as you leave and it takes him some times to be able to calm down and continue his homework.

Deku

"Deku"

"Yeah-"

Deku halts as he blushes at the sight of you wearing the rabbit hat.

"It's cute, isn't it?" You smile and keep squeezing the paws to make the ears flap multiple times.

"It's definitely looks more cute on you!" Is what Deku is thinking but he is too shy to say it to you so he just nods.

"Oh! How about if you make antennas on your hero outfit can flap too?" You suddenly suggest because an idea comes to you.

"Eh?" He looks surprised but you just continue "Wouldn't it be cute if the kids are panicking and you can use this rabbit ears hat concept to make it playful to calm them down?"

"Well that's true" He smiles nervously although he acknowledges your creativity "But I think I'm okay with it because in the end, it is based on All Might"

"That's true..." You just realise that you kinda offend him since he loves All Might so much and you also admire him. After that, you quickly apologize.

"I'm sorry Deku! I forgot that it is based on All Might-"

"That's okay" He quickly calms you down and smiles "Besides, this concept suits you more than I do since it's adorable like you-"

Just then, Deku realises that he flirts (?) with you because you're already blushing and it makes him blush too.

"I-I mean-"

"Thanks" You smile and remove the hat as you put it on his head "But I think it looks cute you too on you"

If internal screaming can be heard externally, it will be as loud as speakers in the club at 3 am because damn he doesn't expect you to be close and put the rabbit hat on his head. You also proceed to play with the paws to make the ears go up which make him can pass out anytime soon.

"Yeap it looks cute on you too" You smile and retreat your hands to let him play with it.

"I think it's better on you" Deku takes it off and wants to put it on you but you reject.

"You should play with it for a while!"

"I think I'm good”

"What is it? Are you embarrassed of wearing it?" You  start frowning and somehow it might become a fight in the end.

"No no no, it's just that- Okay I'll play with it" Deku quickly gives up and plays with it for a while which makes you smile watching it. Meanwhile, someone in the corner is filled with jealousy for watching your interaction with Deku.

(A/N: I'm still bad at making endings lmao. Also please let me know which characters would you like to see because I'm curious lol)