#it’s actually so funny because I’ve lost so much weight that I can’t sleep on my side without a pillow because my knees are too boney and

[sintreaties]

Let's be real u love the anon who asked u lots of question right?

Allow me to thank you for this question, because it gave me the chance to speak about something that’s been intriguing me for a while (albeit it’s more of a personal reflection, rather than a conversation with you specifically).

I’ve been answering anon asks for years and because this was my first experience being active in fandom spaces, I’ve come to consider it as a sort of social experiment.

To answer your question: no, I do not enjoy the last few asks. I don’t appreciate when people don’t take the hint and keep sending them.

In part, of course, it’s because I’ve grown tired. Tired of Kakegurui, but also of some of its fans. The asks I used to receive were also much more engaging and some were actually quite funny! Some anons were nice enough to come here just to share something they enjoyed, something unrelated to KKG, because they thought that I’d enjoy it too. I appreciate those anons a lot and I hope they’re having a nice day, just like the anons who reached out to talk about my fics and discuss what they liked or disliked about them.

I can’t remember if I mentioned it here, but for me, the anons of this blog are the equivalent of strangers stopping me in the streets while I’m minding my business. Some people ask for directions (meaning, some come here asking for writing advice and such) and if I can help them, it is my pleasure to do so. Some people come up to me to strike a conversation, and although I don’t always have the patience or the interest to indulge them, I do my best to reply.

And then there’s… the others.

Those are the ones that puzzle me. I don’t take what they say personally, nor do I give it much weight, because in the end, they’re still just strangers on the internet, but I’m still genuinely curious about why they do the things they do. It’s not like I’ve lost sleep over it but even as a writer, I’m very, very interested in understanding this kind of humanity. Everything has a reason, if you care to search for it.

So those anons, right. Some of them don’t even follow me: Why are they here?

Of course, one of the reasons is that this is an open space. You can come in, do your thing, get out. I’ll never know who you are so you don’t really feel like there’s going to be any substantial consequence to what you say.

There’s this quote by Robert A. Caro that goes, “When you have enough power to do what you always wanted to do, then you’re really gonna see what you always wanted to do.”

So you have the power to be rude, and stupid and nonsensical, right?

But why would you do it?

Like, if someone was to tell me “Hey, I don’t appreciate your avances”, well, I wouldn’t send them this kind of stuff:

I’d feel like a loser, you see? I’d show no manners to the person who’s repeatedly said that they don’t appreciate this kind of messages (most importantly when those who send them are really trying to get my cell number!!!) and I’d also show such an incredible loneliness and hopelessness that I couldn’t help but be ashamed of myself.

Plus you’re doing this where everyone can see you! You’re on anon yes, but you know that you’re the one who wrote that stupid, rude or nonsensical ask. How can you not be embarassed about it? I suppose you’re either dumb enough to lack self-awareness or you’re so insecure that you’re much beyond that to torture yourself with silly concepts like dignity and self-respect.

I don’t mean it as an insult, really, I’m just trying to draw my own conclusions here. My power fantasy is to be a good, kind, interesting person in a community of equally good and nice and interesting people and yours is… this? Why?

Reading some of these asks feels like getting a glimpse of someone’s intrusive thoughts. You can tell that they didn’t stop to think before sending them. My mutuals have to thank me, because despite what I’ve been told recently by a friend, I still spare them the worst ones (which, curiously, have only really started to appear recently). This kind of stuff gives me such bad second-hand embarassment that if I try to put myself in the anon’s shoes I deal myself psychic damage.

Most of those people don’t even come to me because I’m Sintreaties and they have a problem specifically with Sintreaties. The problematic anons either disregard or forget the fact that they’re real, living people talking to another real, living person — who, incidentally, has nothing to do with them.

And it’s incredible, because again, I wouldn’t be able to act like some of you! Sometimes it helps to think that no matter how many times I’ve hit rock bottom, I’ve never sent anon hate nor have I ever harrassed someone online just because I could. But then, even in videogames I never pick the “bad route”. What’s the fun in that? If I have to be mean and pick a fight with someone, hell, let it be a fight that can win me something more than whatever you get from arguing with Twitter users.

In the end, the question for me isn’t “why are you doing this to me”.

For me, the question becomes: why are you doing this to yourselves?

Bro, go for a walk! Talk to your friends, and if you’ve got none, go ahead and make some! Go for a coffee all by yourself and joke with the guy at the counter! Jesus Christ man, you can do better than waste your time sending that kind of asks to a random person on the internet! You show so little self-love that I can’t help but feel compassion. Where’s your dignity? Where’s your self-respect, the innate, human drive that pushes us to be better, no matter what? If you’re so lonely and insecure, do something about it! The world is full of people who wish to be your friend and to know you for who you are. Take care of yourself, for god’s sake!

“Lighten up, it’s not that deep” — for some of you, yeah. We’re talking about the same people who can barely read and comprehend a manga, I don’t expect them to understand my point.

(And I don’t mean it as a “look at me, I am so superior to you, because I actually use my head to think things critically and I’m still in touch with my emotions even in online settings.”)

For you it’s just one or two weird asks. Since 2019, I’ve received hundreds of them.

Again, I’m still relatively new to fandom. I’ve “only” been around for a few years and I’ve mostly only interacted with KKG fans. I’ve also always tried to curate my experience, which is already lacking on its own compared to someone who’s been around for decades. On that note, I wonder if some older, more experienced users would like to share their opinions on the matter — on anon too, or course.

I still want to keep my askbox open, because some anons really have something new and interesting to bring to the table. Remember though: it’s not 2020 anymore. From now on, I really do suggest thinking well about an ask before sending it.

And on a final note, I’m told that one of my asks made it to the KKG struggles account on Twitter so I’d personally like to thank and shake hands with all the anons that made it possible🤝🍾🎉

#sintreatiesreplies #anon #kakegurui #asks #long post #I’m sure I’m missing something but hey #I’m not writing an essay on parasocial relationships and the impact of mental illnesses in modern society #I’ve got only one last kkg fic in my folders #I might accept prompt submissions in the future as a last hurrah of this blog #don’t deprive yourselves of that possibility by being obnoxious on anon

[jobean12-blog]

My Girl

Pairing: Bucky x reader (red henley super delicious beefy bucky) 

Word Count: 1,360

Summary: Bucky wants you to be his girl but he’s a chicken. That is, until someone makes a HUGE mistake and he goes into protective!bucky mode! 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabble clean up and the prompt below! Love when Bucky swoops in to save the day especially when mutual pining is involved! Hope you enjoy this anon and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: soft, fluffy shy Bucky, lots of the sweet stuff, Bucky being a doofus and tiny angst for a second but protective!bucky fixes everything! :) 

Bucky quietly removes his hoodie and drapes it over your sleeping form, tucking the ends around you before gently brushing the hair from your face.  “What are you doin’ Buck?” Steve’s question surprises him, and he swings around to glare, “will you keep it down punk! Y/n is passed out, don’t wake her up!” 

Steve shoots Bucky a knowing look and shakes his head, “come on man, when are you gonna ask her out!?” Bucky immediately covers his lips with a finger, hurrying over to Steve and punching him in the arm. “Shut it. If you wake her, I’ll knock you out. She’s been working so hard this week.” 

Rubbing his bicep Steve snips back, “skirting my question again I see.” Bucky pulls the bag of chips out of Steve’s hands and takes a handful, whispering through his munching, “when I’m ready. Every time I try and bring it up, I sound like a bumbling idiot.” With a quiet laugh Steve agrees, punching Bucky back before grabbing the chip bag and walking off.

“Hey Buck, what are you snacking on?” At the sound of your voice Bucky whips his head around to see you walking over with his hoodie wrapped around you. “You look really cute.” It slips out and before he can stop himself he keeps going, “you had no blanket and I couldn’t find one and I didn’t want you to be cold so I covered you with that. I hope we didn’t wake you. Did we wake you?”

He takes a breath and dips his head, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling a bit embarrassed. “Thank you! It’s perfect and warm and it smells nice.” He looks up and smiles, that sweet smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes his nose scrunch up. “And no. You didn’t wake me. My stomach did!” You giggle and start to rummage around the kitchen, searching for something to eat.

“Want some pancakes? I’ll make ‘em!” You perk up at Bucky’s offer and ask, “what can I do to help?” The next two hours go by in a flash while you cook and eat way too many pancakes, really enjoying your time together. Bucky walks you back to your room, shuffling his feet and looking awkward again. “Thanks for eating with me. That was fun.” You smile, “it really was, and you make delicious pancakes! Thanks!”

You start to take off his hoodie, but he stops you, “you can keep it, this way you aren’t cold tonight.” Your cheeks warm at his sweetness and you take a step closer, letting your eyes drift to his lips, “thanks Buck.” He reaches out a hand and pulls the hoodie higher onto your shoulder, lingering a moment longer before pulling away and saying, “sweet dreams. Goodnight!” With those last words he rushes down the hallway and you sigh, deflating and pushing the door open.  

“Nat, he had the perfect chance last night! I even leaned in and took a good look at those beautiful lips and nothing. He practically ran off! He’s just a nice guy. He would have given his hoodie to anyone. It’s not because he actually likes me. I don’t have a chance.” Nat makes a disgruntled sound, clearly displeased with how your night went. “I’m going to ask that cute agent, Chris, if he wants to come hangout and watch a movie tomorrow. What have I got to lose?” She agrees and wishes you luck as you hang up and get ready for the day. 

“I’m telling ya Steve, she was literally waiting for me to kiss her and I chickened out and literally ran down the hall. It was awful. She probably liked the pancakes more than me! Argh!” Bucky drops his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face to hopefully hide some of his shame. “She definitely thinks I’m a total idiot now.” Steve pats him on the back, looking apologetic but not disagreeing, “come on punk, let’s go train. Maybe you’ll feel better if you punch me some more.”

They head down to the gym and Bucky perks up when he sees you there, talking with one of the agents. He watches as you smile and chat, your hands moving this way and that. “Wait, what? Are you asking me out?” Bucky’s stomach sinks when he sees you shake your head yes, confirming his worst nightmare. “Ugh no, you’re ugly. Not interested.” With that Chris walks away, still looking shocked until he sees Bucky.

You rush by them in a blur of blue and before Bucky can even think to chase after you, he has Chris pinned to the mat, a heavy knee on his chest and his metal hand at his throat. “What did you just say to her?”  Chris can barely speak with Bucky’s fingers tightening around his neck and Steve quickly jumps in. “Take it easy Bucky, let him explain himself.”

Steve stands next to Bucky looking equally as intimidating, “well.” Chris sucks in a breath and tries to get some air before he rasps out, “she’s wearing your hoodie and I saw you guys hanging out last night. I figured she was your girl, and I didn’t want you to kick my ass for hanging out with her.” Bucky’s look softens at the thought of you being his girl, but it quickly disappears when he says, “and you thought telling her she was ugly was a better way to handle it. What the fuck?”

Bucky’s voice is loud, booming through the gym and Steve has to calm him down again. “You’re right Buck, just don’t kill him.” Chris tries to sit up, but Bucky pushes down harder with his knee, “do you know how upset she must be right now. You better go apologize and explain yourself before I do fucking kill you.”

The second Bucky eases up Chris scrambles away and runs up the stairs, Bucky hot on his heels. He waits while Chris explains what happened and apologizes profusely, adding in that he thinks you’re really beautiful. He gulps and looks to Bucky, cringing at the now murderous look on his face, “see, now he’s gonna kill me anyway because I said that! But it’s true! You are beautiful! I was just so scared of him kicking my ass I said the opposite because I wasn’t thinking.”

You start to giggle, much to the surprise of both men, “ok Chris. I get it. He can be pretty scary. But it did hurt my feelings, even if you were just trying to save your life.” Chris apologizes one last time and goes to hug you, thinking better of it and waving before he runs off. You pull Bucky’s hoodie tighter around your body and shift your weight, hoping Bucky will talk to you now.

Thankfully, he walks over, wrapping you in his arms and crushing you to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, sniffing it before pulling away. “Did you just sniff my hair?” He laughs, tucking it behind your ear, “yea, sorry again. I just can’t seem to get this right, can I?” Your fingers play with the hem of his tee shirt, “get what right?” 

Your coy look has Bucky cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb along your jaw, “I think you’re amazing and I’ve been wanting to ask you out for weeks but every time I try I just can’t seem to get it right. I end up sounding like a total idiot. And then when I heard what Chris said I just lost it. I never want you to hear those words again, there is nothing further from the truth. You’re gorgeous.”

Your hand wraps around his wrist and you rest your cheek against his palm, closing your eyes. “He thought I was your girl, and he was so scared. It doesn’t excuse what he said but it is kinda funny.” Bucky backs you up to the wall, leaning closer to your lips when he whispers, “would you be my girl?” Tilting your head forward you brush your lips to his, “I thought you’d never ask.”

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @bisousbucky @book-dragon-13 @buckstaybucky @buckys-henley @breezy1415 @chuuulip @eurynome827 @harrysthiccthighss​ @hawksmagnolia​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @ikaris-whore​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @loricameback​ @lookiamtrying​ @lokilvrr​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @lorilane33​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @yansi1923​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #protective!bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky drabble #bucky barnes drabble #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #protective!bucky #beefy!bucky x reader #beefy!bucky x reader fluff #beefy!bucky #protective!bucky x reader fluff #hbc drunk drabbles #ladies of the hbc

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 7)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4) (chapter 5) (chapter 6)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman-- even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: almost 3k?

warnings: slight breeding kink (but only if you speak romanian aksjghakgjhg), angst, violence (in the form of a fistfight, which the reader isn’t involved in)

Just as you always did, you woke up to sunlight streaming in through the lace curtains, and a cool breeze blowing by.  What was peculiar was Sebastian next to you, sleeping peacefully as his chest rose and fell with relaxed breaths.  You let yourself watch him for a moment before you decided to try to sneak out for a cup of coffee.  Problem was, the bed was sort of creaky and it was very difficult to move without making sound.  Your plan was to move as slowly as possible, keeping your weight evenly distributed over the mattress, and it worked rather well— right until the last second, of course, when a loud shift of the boxsprings beneath you made Sebastian stir and blink open his eyes.

You were about to apologize for waking him, but he grinned and slipped his arms around you, bringing you back to where you started and surrounding your body with his warm, muscular form.

“Bună dimineata,” he hummed as he pulled you closer, his voice even deeper and more gravelly than normal.

“Bună dimineata,” you did your best to repeat it back, making him smile even though your pronunciation wasn’t great.  “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied softly, heavily accented and clearly more a recreation of the sounds you’d made than real English, but still intelligible and so painfully adorable as well.  “A fost uimitor aseară.”

“Last night…” you began, but you didn’t even know where to begin.  What could you possibly say about that?  Would it even matter, if he can’t understand it.  “God, you’re fucking amazing,” you blurted out with a soft laugh.

“Sa o facem din nou,” he growled as he pulled you closer and kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth instantly.  A more self-conscious you— as in, you yesterday— would’ve worried about morning breath, but you now couldn’t taste anything but him and couldn’t feel anything but his lips on yours and couldn’t do anything but weave your fingers into his hair.

You moaned when his kisses trailed down your neck, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into his body one more time, but you had other things to attend to.

“I need to get up,” you announced as you tried to escape from his grasp, but he held you tighter and brushed his lips over your shoulder.

“Nu, nu, nu te dice,” he cooed, making you laugh and squirm.  “Stai in pat, fă dragoste cu mine toata ziuă.”

“I have to get up, I’ll be right back,” you tried to explain but he stayed ever vigilant as he held you tight and licked over the shell of your ear.  Finally you managed to get him to stop, as much as you didn’t really want him to, allowing you to slip out from under the covers and find your robe where it had been discarded on the floor.  

He watched you as you crossed the room and popped into the bathroom for your bag, pulling your birth control pack out of it and using a handful of tap water to wash down your morning pill.  “Ah,” Sebastian seemed to have a realization from the bed, and you giggled.

“Told you it was important,” you grinned.

“Probabil cel mai bine să nu ai un copil cu un străin,” he nodded, “dar nu sunt sigur că m-ar fi deranjat atât de mult dacă te-aș fi însărcinat.”

Following suit, he stretched briefly before getting out of bed and searching for his discarded jeans and boxers.  You made no effort to hide your ogling as you watched his cock swing between his legs.  Even soft it was thick enough that you couldn’t figure how it ever fit inside you (the delightful soreness between your legs reminded you that it was no easy feat).  He took note of your staring and grinned devilishly, leaning against the wall to give you a better look.  “Îți place ce vezi?” he purred.

“Should’ve known this would all go straight to your ego,” you chuckled.  “I’m gonna go downstairs for some coffee.  Do you want some?  Cafea?”

“Da,” he nodded, as he slipped his clothes back on, “mulțumesc.”  Funny how his idea of getting dressed still left him half-naked.

Foolishly, you expected him to let you pass, since you were both going to benefit from your trip to the kitchen; but of course he had to slip his arms around you from behind and give you just one more embrace, making you sigh and relax your head back against his shoulder.  He kissed the top of your head and you hummed happily, letting your eyes open to look up at him before taking a moment to look out the window you happened to be standing right beside.

You were just hoping to appreciate the countryside scenery, meaning that you were rather shocked and confused to see a car pulling up.  When it stopped and the driver stepped out, your eyes went wide and your back suddenly straightened itself.

“...Michael?” you gasped.  You wrenched yourself out of Sebastian’s grasp and started to run down the stairs.  He called after you but you ignored it.

Barreling down the stairs and out the door, you found your husband walking up the driveway.

“Honey,” he frowned when he saw you, “I’ve been trying to find you since you left— what the hell is going on?  Why are you wearing a robe?”

“It’s hardly nine in the morning,” you defended before you realized there were much bigger topics at hand: “Michael, what are you doing here?” you asked, after a few seconds of confused stuttering.

“I’m taking you home!” he replied, as if it were obvious.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “don’t play stupid.  Do you think I’ve been here against my will, or by accident or something?”

“No, I saw your letter,” he sighed.

“And you saw the part where I said not to look for me, and that all future communication would come through my lawyer?”

“You’re my wife,” he replied coldly, “I think I’m within my rights to talk to you directly.”

“You shouldn’t have come here.  I was actually happy before you showed up.”

With perfect timing, Sebastian stepped out the door behind you, looking to you and to Michael, and back.  “Ce se întâmplă?” he asked you.

“Who the fuck is this?!” Michael asked accusingly.

“I’m gonna give you a chance to ask me that again, in a way that doesn’t make it seem like you have any place to judge what I might be doing alone with a man,” you hissed.  “He’s just the groundskeeper, Mike.”

“Then why is he shirtless?” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know!  He… does that a lot!” you exasperatedly shouted back.

“Look, I’m not angry,” Michael sighed.  You laughed bitterly.

“Good, cause you have no right to be.”

“But I think it’s fair if I’m worried about you spending months alone with strange men.”

“Oh, strange, is that the problem?  Strangeness?  Would some more familiarity— perhaps a familial relationship— between you and these men make it easier on you, Mike?”

“Honey, please—”

“Don’t call me that,” you grimaced.

Michael stormed towards you, and you felt Sebastian step closer to you as well, wrapping an arm around you.  Having him by your side made this significantly more awkward, but it made you feel safer, too.

“Hey man, get your hands off my wife,” Michael growled, pointing a finger at Seb.

“He doesn’t speak English,” you rolled your eyes.  

“Well, I’m not sure you do either— otherwise you would realize that we’re still married, and you need to come home.”

“Just because you won’t sign the papers doesn’t mean we’re still together,” you reminded him sternly as shook your head.

“I’ll end it with your sister, is that what you want?”

You laughed, because you were afraid if you didn’t that you would cry.  “Jesus, Michael!  Are you hearing yourself?  This sounds like a greek tragedy, or fucking EastEnders!  Next I’ll be discovering I have an evil twin, and you’ll bang her too!”

He was a lot more offended by that than you expected.  “It was never just sex.  I love her.  But I love you more,” he clarified, suddenly getting serious.

You chuckled weakly, hardly believing what you were hearing.  It’s not that he was ever particularly nice, or romantic or anything, but at some point in his life he had been incredibly intelligent… and now he barely made sense at all.  “Wow, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special.”

He frowned, clearly losing what little cool he’d had at first.  He had always had a bit of a temper.  “For better or for worse, we’re still legally married— damn it, we’ve been together for how long now?  And you’re ready to throw that all away?”

“No, but you were,” you spat back.

“But I wasn’t, and I’m still not.  You’ve gotta hear me out—”

“I don’t have to do anything—”

“No, you’re not listening to me—” he talked over you, again.

“I don’t owe you any more of my time—”

“Damn it, why won’t you just listen!” he growled, grabbing you by the arm suddenly.  Instantly, Sebastian stepped forward and pushed him back.

“Sebastian, it’s okay,” you tried to soothe him.  

“Hey, could you maybe tell your boytoy to keep his filthy hands off me?” Michael demanded at the same time.

“Mai bine ai grijă,” Sebastian hissed, also at the same time.

“I literally can’t,” you answered Michael.  “I told you he doesn’t speak English.”

“Yeah, well, I think some things transcend language,” Michael bit back.  “Tell me something, pal,” he addressed Sebastian, “did you fuck my wife?”

“Sper că nu spui ce cred că ești,” Sebastian shook his head, clearly on the end of his rope.

“Mike, leave him alone,” you demanded, but it came out sounding so much weaker than you meant it to.

“Did you,” Michael pointed to Sebastian, going so far as to poke him in the chest condescendingly, “fuck—” he mimed thrusting his hips, and you grimaced— “my wife?”— finally, he pointed to you.

Sebastian certainly understood that; and, in lieu of an answer, he socked Michael right in the jaw and sent him straight to the ground.

“Oh my god!” you yelped, dashing over to where your husband was crumpled into a ball on the gravel and kneeling beside him.

“What the fuck?!” Michael gurgled, holding his face in shock and pain.

“Are you okay?” you asked anxiously, spinning to look at where Sebastian was standing and looking much too proud of himself, shaking out the hand he’d just hit Michael with.  “Sebastian!” you scolded, making him give you a defensive look.

“Ce?” he shrugged flippantly, though he clearly felt a little guilty when it became obvious that you were irritated with him.

And that was how you ended up here, standing in the living room and tapping your foot quickly, staring at the couch where Michael sat with a bag of ice held to his jaw, Sebastian beside him (though as far away as possible) resting with another on his hand.

“You had no business coming here,” you informed your husband coldly.

“You wouldn’t know about this place if it weren’t for me,” he reminded you.  “Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

“I thought you wouldn’t care,” you corrected.

His silence was stern, and he gave you one of those looks that used to scare you but now just made loathing and pity sink down in your chest.  It was ambiguous if he was too angry to reply or if he really had no defense.  After all, what reason did you have to believe that he would care about your leaving?

"If you're here to make me rescind the divorce order, it's not going to happen.  I'm not leaving with you.  I'm not forgiving you.  Please just go," you sighed.

"That's not why I came.  None of that is why I'm here," he mumbled.  "I came here…" he straightened up slightly, raising his voice confidently.  "I came here to tell you that I love you.  I need you.  And I want you back."

Now that he was looking right back at you, suddenly you couldn't take it anymore and turned your gaze away again.  

"Whatever you need me to do to fix this, I'll do it.  We'll get through this.  Isn't that what marriage is?  Fighting for each other, struggling together?"  He stood up and approached you, reaching out to rest his hands on your shoulders; you almost flinched when you felt his touch, but resisted the urge, glancing up at his face before looking over at Sebastian whose injured hand was twitching as he looked away with a tight jaw.  "Tell me how to make this right, please."

You tried not to look as Sebastian as you processed Michael's request; similarly, it seemed he was trying not to look at you.  But even if you ignored this new, peculiar romance in your life, your marriage was still broken beyond repair and you couldn't imagine anything that could change that.  "I'm sorry," you finally whispered, watching Michael's face fall, "I don't think there's anything you can do." 

He released you from his grip, less angry than you expected; more somber.  "I want to stay and work this out," he explained.  "Better yet, I want you to come back to London— come back home— so we can be together and discuss everything there.  But I'm only going to ask you one more time before I leave: stay with me.  You don't need to forgive me, or even love me again, at least not yet… just give me a chance to try to earn everything I took for granted."

You'd imagined this moment so many times: cursing him out, making him grovel, kicking him to the curb.  To be completely honest, you'd even imagined potentially taking him back.  But now that you were here and it was, somehow, real, your desire for vengeance was fading along with your desire for reconciliation.  

"I have something I need to give you," you whispered, walking upstairs and going back into your room, getting on your hands and knees to search the floor.  Finally, discarded in a dusty corner with slightly uneven floorboards, you found the ring you'd tossed aside the night before.  Fighting back against the tears welling in your eyes, you picked it up and came downstairs, holding it outward for Michael to take.  

"I'm not taking that back," he refused, shaking his head.  "You keep it for a while longer, until you're sure this is really what you want."

"I'm sure.  I'm moving on.  Take it back," you demanded.  He sighed but reached out and plucked it from between your fingers, pocketing it though still wearing his own golden band.  "Besides, my sister might want it."

He scoffed, turning as he began to walk away.  "You're cold."

"Frozen solid," you agreed.  "Goodbye, Michael… drive safe."

He shook his head and made a sharp exhale as he walked away, nearly slamming the door behind him.  You stared off into space as Sebastian silently watched you; you didn’t want him to see you cry, but it was starting to seem unavoidable as your lip quivered and your eyes grew wide with tears.

“Shhh,” he soothed gently, standing up and stepping forward to pull you into his arms.  “Nu plânge, e în regulă.”

"God, I'm so stupid," you whispered between sobs muffled against his chest.  "I'm so fucking stupid…"

He whispered to you and kissed the top of your head, repeating one thing over and over that you couldn't make out well against the sound of your own crying filling your ears.

But even without knowing what he was saying or what it meant, it made you feel better.

As evening approached, you realized a new predicament had arisen: would Sebastian stay in your room again?  Would you go to his?  Or would you sleep separately, maybe even drift back to just being essentially housemates after a unique one-night stand?

Your questions were answered suddenly when Sebastian suddenly came to the couch and scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal a little before you relaxed and let him carry you to his room.  He all but threw you onto the bed, climbing on top of you and kissing you deeply as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck.

Already you felt more comfortable with him than you sometimes felt with people you'd known most of your life; you didn't feel self-conscious when he ran his hands over your body, you didn't try to suppress your moans when he kissed your neck for fear of sounding ridiculous— and maybe that was just because it was such a fantastical situation, so unlike yourself and so far from home, that it was easy to feel like a different person with him.

Or maybe it was that you'd spent so long trying to be somebody that people liked, and now you were being yourself for the first time in decades.

You couldn't really be sure.  And since your brain short-circuited every time Sebastian whispered something in your ear that just sounded filthy regardless of what it actually meant, you didn't have the time to think about it.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan fanfic

[supercorpkid]

Stronger together.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader

Word count: 2410.

“Starting today, Superkid doesn’t exist anymore.”

The look you get from everyone is of absolute horror. Like you just told them you decided to become a supervillain and you’re going to destroy planet Earth in thirty seconds.

Funny enough, that’s the amount of time it takes for one of them to be able to say something.

“Wait a second.” Aunt Alex is the first one to react. “You’re telling me that the best superhero in National City is quitting? No offense, Kara.”

“None taken, I agree!” Kara jumps right after. “I thought you loved supering?”

“Yeah…” You shrug. “But I love my life a little bit more, so-”

“Baby, shouldn’t you give more thought to this? We’ll support you no matter what, but this is a huge decision.” Lena adds with a concerned tone. You smile.

“Dear Rao, you guys are turning this into a bigger deal than it is.” You roll your eyes with a reassuring smile. “It’s not like I’ll stop existing. I’ll just be a normal teenage girl from now on. Y’know, like Jamie over here.”

“Yeah, well, but-” It’s not hard, but rendering Kara speechless is always exciting.

“Ok, good talk.” You get out of the living room and Jamie follows you into your room.

“Oh wow.” She throws herself in your bed. “That was so dramatic. Thanks for texting me a heads up, I would be shocked if I had found out like that.”

You smile, dismissing it with your hand. “They’ll get over it. It’s not like I was always a superhero anyway.”

“That’s true!” Jamie agrees with her head for a while. “You did save a bunch of people while you were at it, though.”

You shrug.

“Lena was saved so many times, I wonder if she would still be alive if it weren’t for you.” Jamie adds and you look back at her furrowing your eyebrows.

“Supergirl would have saved her.” You don’t even believe your own words.

“Really? Last time I checked Supergirl was unconscious next to her in the Fortress.”

“Well, I-” You squint your eyes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing. You want me to quit quitting. Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t quit! Quitting, I mean. I won’t quit quitting.” You growl. “Whatever, just stop it.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not trying to make you quit quitting. Especially because, apparently, you can’t super without almost killing yourself. And I don’t like the feeling of losing you every time.”

“You never actually lost me.”

“Ok, standing beside your bed at the DEO not sure if you’re going to wake up is very close to losing you. I don’t think my brain can make the distinction.” Jamie mumbles and your heart squeezes on your chest. You hug her without saying a word, and she lets out a breath that looks like she was holding it for a while.

“I’m sorry for almost dying several times. I promise that things will be easier now.” You shrug and she agrees with her head.

“At least until the next time your hero complex kicks in.” She jokes and you roll your eyes at her. “But you did save me, so… I don’t know. The idea of you not being a superhero is sort of bittersweet.”

“Yeah.” You sit next to her. “To me too.”

“But we will make do.” She throws her arm around your shoulder, hugging you sideways. “Because we are stronger together.”

“Yes, we are.” You agree with a smile.

It’s late at night when the game downstairs ends and Alex shows up at your door to call Jamie. Before leaving, aunt Alex hugs you tight.

“I’m gonna miss saving the world with you.” Alex says with a smile. “You are much better at that than Kara.”

“HEY!” You hear Kara’s interjection downstairs.

“Stop listening to our private conversation!” Alex yells back at her. She puts her hand on your shoulder. “I’ll step up my game of saving people, in your place.”

“That brings me peace of mind.” You smile, earning a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder.

“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Stronger together.” Aunt Alex asks and you hug her in agreement. “Great. I love you, kiddo. You’re my favorite Luthor-Danvers.”

You both stop talking and wait to hear Kara’s reaction. It doesn’t come.

“I’m shocked she obeyed.” Alex says making her way to the stairs and you wave at her.

“I love you too, aunt Alex.”

“Knock, knock.” You hear on the other side of the door, a little before you go to bed. You smile because Kara is such a dork.

“You know, you can actually knock on the door instead of saying it, right?” You say on the other side and Kara opens the door with the biggest smile on her face.

“HA HA, I didn’t know I had raised such a comedy expert.” She jokes, making her way to where you are on your bed. “How are you, little one?”

“I’m great.” You smile at her, sincerely. You are great. Deciding not to be Superkid just took off the biggest weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders. You feel lighter.

“You know I completely support you.” Kara says, putting one lock of your hair behind your ear. “Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll be by your side.”

“Thanks, momma.” You smile at her. “I support you too, in case you want to quit anything.”

She chuckles. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” But her expression turns serious after a few seconds. “Being a superhero is-” She sighs, looking for words. You have a bunch to offer her. Exhausting, emotionally draining, insane, traumatic. “Weird.”

“To say the least.”

“Yeah.” Kara lays her head on your lap, looking at you from down there. “It’s weird to describe it because it’s a mix of things. Sometimes-” She smiles looking excited. “It’s the most thrilling feeling in the universe. When you’re up there, wind blowing in your head, and that powerful feeling that you can do and go anywhere. And sometimes you save someone, and oh man!”

“You feel invincible. Like you can take on the world.” You add, and Kara agrees vividly with her head.

“But sometimes, for the lack of a better word, it just straight up sucks.” Kara crinkles her nose, and you smile at how cute she looks. “Sometimes you feel like, yeah you know, I could die for these people because I love them with all my heart.”

“I know that feeling.”

“And they love you so much too! It just feels worthy, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “But sometimes it doesn’t feel like that. It feels the opposite. There were a few times when I was this close to dying, and I kept thinking ‘but why Kara? Why are you leaving everyone you love behind to die for people who don’t even appreciate you?’”

“Why would you?”

“Kid. I-I don’t know.” Kara lets out another chuckle. “You know what it's like. You’re up there, and you know it has to be you because no one else can do what you’re doing. And there’s something inside that just stops us from turning away and letting it all play out how it was supposed to.”

You also know that feeling. That’s how you ended up in outer space in another reality to save people you didn’t even know that well. To save a reality that wasn’t even yours. And you had the chance to turn your back to it, over and over again. Yet, you never took the easy path.

“What I came here to tell you, is that I get it. I get the feeling. I’ve had it a million of times. When I was giving everything to the world, and it kept taking things from me. I thought about giving up so many times it’s ridiculous.” Kara sighs again. You put your hand on her hair, stroking it gently for support. “So, yeah, I understand.”

“But?” You ask with a tiny smile.

“But if you ever want to do it again, I’ll understand and support you too.” She gets up from your lap and kisses your forehead. “And if you ever need to talk to anyone about this superhero stuff, you can always come to me, cause I’m sure I probably felt the same thing once or twice in my life. Ok? We’re stronger together.”

“Ok, momma. Thank you.”

“Momma got you, little one. Always.” She hugs you tight, and you breathe deep, feeling her comfort. “If I’m being honest, I’m sort of excited that I won’t have to go fish you in outer space anymore.”

“Me too.” You chuckle on her chest. “It’s exhausting, almost dying all alone in a pitch-black dark place with no air in your lungs.”

“It sounds like it.” Kara lets go of you and looks at you, adoringly. “I love you so much, you’re my heart.”

“And you’re mine.” You smile, getting another forehead kiss from Kara.

“Ok, go to bed. It’s late.” She moves to the door but stays there watching you for a little bit. “You’re the best kid in the universe, and we’re so lucky to have you.”

“Thanks momma.” You smile, thankful. It’s good to hear that. In normal circumstances this would make you happy. But where you find yourself right now, it’s even better. It’s good to be reassured that you’re understood, and you’re loved no matter what, and that even though you just gave up being a superhero you’re still the best kid for her. Rao, you love Kara so much.

“Hey.” You hear a soft knock on the door. You don’t use your x-ray vision. You don’t have to. Kara just left so it’s obviously not her.

“Come in, mom.” You say and Lena opens the door, softly. She puts her head inside your bedroom and smiles at you.

“Oh, great. I just wanted to check on you, but you’re going to sleep, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “Great. Good night, babygirl.”

“Mom, can I ask you something?” You ask and Lena goes inside your bedroom, agreeing with her head. “Can you, um, stay a little?”

“Yeah!” Lena agrees excitedly, like that was exactly what she was thinking. She makes her way to the bed next to you, getting under the comforter with you.

“Sorry for being so codependent these days, I just-”

“Stop.” Lena says pulling you closer. “Come hug me.” You toss your arm over her, and she kisses the top of your head. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s smiling. “I’ve been feeling very codependent too. Actually, if you would have me, I would have been sleeping with you since you were five. But I guess you wanted your independence.”

“Not anymore.” You sigh, hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“You know, I went to L Corp after what happened. There were pictures of you everywhere.” You can genuinely hear her smile. “I just kept thinking how crazy that was, but how hard I needed it to be true. Your little face. I mean don’t get me wrong, Kara’s face is beautiful, and I really wanted her to be my family too. But you. I wish I could explain the feeling.”

“It’s like-” You start. “Like this feeling that nothing would make sense. And that, yeah, you would have other people you love around you, but that missing piece is so fundamentally meaningful for the bigger picture, for your life, to make sense. Without it, all of it would fall into pieces and fade into a life you wouldn’t want to live.”

Your ear is so glued to Lena’s chest that you can hear her heart skipping a beat, without having to use your super hearing. You lift your head to look at her, and she’s crying silent tears with a smile on her face.

“Was that how you felt without me?” She asks and you nod, biting your lower lip. “Oh, my baby!” She pulls you into the hug again. “My baby.”

Lena just spends a few minutes stroking your hair, gently. It feels so nice you feel yourself dozing off to sleep. But you wouldn’t want to keep her stuck under you, so you fight it.

“Listen-” Lena calls you and you change position so you can look at her. “I know I wasn’t always as supportive as I should’ve been about your supering. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I mean, I have to appreciate it more than anyone because you keep saving my life. It’s just, when you’re out there, I get so scared.”

“I know.” You agree softly. “But momma is out there too, and you-”

“Almost die every time she gets just the tiniest scratch. Yeah.” She smiles, and you furrow your eyebrows. “But I sort of, oof, this is hard to say. When I married your momma, I knew who she was, what she does, I knew how saving the world was important for her. I knew I could lose her to it, eventually.” Lena breathes deep, wiping her tears. “But you? I can’t fathom the thought that one day I may lose you. I just-I just can’t.”

“Well, I’m not a hero anymore so you don’t have to worry.” You reassure her, but Lena bites her tongue, definitely not reassured.

“I’ll always worry. And you know why?” Lena asks and you shake your head, disagreeing. “Because you are my baby. And even when you’re forty you’ll still be my baby, and I’ll still be terrified just to think about you not being in my life anymore.”

“What if I get married and have kids and move somewhere else?” You ask and Lena smiles at the thought.

“That will happen! And then-” She whispers to you, so Kara can’t hear her. Which is ridiculous because if Kara is listening, she can hear her breath, let alone her words. “I’ll leave Kara in the middle of the night, and go to your house, kick your wife to another bedroom, and snuggle in with you like we’re doing right now.”

You chuckle at the thought. God, you love Lena so much. “You promise?”

“Of course.” Lena kisses your forehead. “We’re stronger together.”

You smile at her words, and close your eyes again, feeling like you can finally fall asleep. But you still hear, somewhere far away, before you sleep completely, Lena’s voice reassuring you. “I love you, babygirl. All of you. Always.”

Notes:

Hope this count as the fluffiest of fluffs @lonelydiary cause I thought they were so sweet here 💙

#supergirl #kara danvers #supercorp #supercorpfamily #lena luthor #supercorp daughter #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp fanfic #lena x reader #reader insert #alex danvers #superkid

[highqueenofelfhame]

spoilers below the cut. some of this was said in an ask i received about the book, but i elaborate more in this post and also mention some of my favorite things

first of all: i really loved this book. i can't wrap my head around all of negative reviews that it's getting, partially from people that haven't even read the damn thing. people are blowing everything out of proportion, and i'm going to get to that, but do not judge this book based on what other negative things people have said. go into it with an open mind and make your own judgement. you might be surprised.

one of my favorite things to come out of these books is the banter between the characters, specifically in high stress situations. the banter between kieran, casteel, and malik when malik is begging for a weapon made me actually cackle. when they're fighting the gyrms, i texted one of my friends like "this is genuinely half of what i would say." just like the shock of the moment, snakes coming out of their mouths. it's so funny and makes those scenes so much fun to read. i love the connection of our little crew and the way they tease and taunt each other. i loved it in the last few books, but it seems to just get better. jennifer writes some of my favorite banter that i've ever read and i don't see that changing anytime soon. some of it was a little bit slow, but i feel like a lot was set up, we learned a lot and saw a lot of character growth and i love that so much. as much as i hated casteel being captive, i enjoy seeing poppy grow into herself and her powers without him there. she is a strong ass GOD and queen that don't need no man. getting to see casteel interact with other people is also fun an interesting, especially when we're in his head. his personality is so strong and makes me laugh so much. i would also personally sell my soul for just one chapter in kieran's pov at some point because i want to know everything going on in that man's head. especially when poppy gets curious and starts asking her questions; i would LOVE to know his inner monologue when she's on her bullshit. now. i want to talk about the joining, and address so many of the things that people are saying without really reading the book or missing context entirely. nothing was sexual between them until the joining. like, point blank period. did their emotional bond grow? it absolutely did. kieran isn't only casteel's best friend. he is also poppy's. he is so fond of her and she of him, and their relationship just continued to grow and flourish and progress as it would. they both lost their person. it is not a crime that they bonded and leaned on each other through that loss. there was no emotional cheating. there was no physical cheating. he slept with her mostly out of protection and to try to make sure the girl was okay because she so obviously wasn't. a lot of people are trying to say it's an emotional affair or a physical affair, and it isn't even close to that. like, did we read the same book? i'm thinking we didn't. as one of my best friend's pointed out, poppy grew up without any form of physical contact. it makes sense that she gets comfort from that now that she's able to get it. the small bits of affection and the little touches here and there between poppy and kieran don't necessarily mean anything sexual. it's kieran seeing one of his best friends, and his best friend's heartmate, struggling and needing reassurance. physical contact between friends is normal, even friends of the opposite sex. they were leaning on each other during an insanely difficult, high stress time, and it's normal. i'm 100% positive that that is what casteel wanted. he didn't want poppy to feel alone and secluded. he didn't want her bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders alone. he also didn't want kieran to feel those things. we know this without it explicitly being in the text because of how much casteel loves her and kieran both. a lot of people are hung up on him sleeping next to her naked, but it has been said and reinforced so many times that the wolven are just like that. they're comfortable with nudity and their bodies and poppy has seen him naked several times after shifting. if he shifted and laid down next to her to sleep, that is just a natural thing for him. and poppy knows this. poppy is okay with this. kieran didn't cross any lines, he didn't do anything he wouldn't have done if casteel was there. the only difference is that if cas was there, he wouldn't have to be in the room simply because casteel would be giving her the comfort and security she needed. as someone that didn't want the joining to turn sexual, because at the time for me personally, i felt like people were just pushing it to be a sexual thing because they were horny and wanted a threesome (and i get annoyed when i feel like people are pushing an author in one direction and backing her into a corner), i only wanted it to be sexual if it was going to make sense. and guess what: it did. nothing about their interactions afterward was even remotely sexual. he kisses her shoulder after they wake up, sure. but that isn't necessarily a romantic thing. they even had a whole conversation about what the love they felt for one another is. it's beyond familial, but it isn't what poppy feels for casteel, and i don't think it's what kieran has felt for past lovers either. it's mentioned that it's similar or close to it, but i still don't think this makes them lovers, per se. if it ends up going that way, more power to them, but right now where we're at, they're not. like they even talked about extending the joining to kieran's future partner if he found someone he wants to spend his life with. that doesn't sound like they're jumping into a relationship to me, between keiran and poppy or the three of them as a throuple. people are jumping the gun so hard and sending jennifer so much hate that it blows my mind. i also want to point out that CAS WAS ALL ABOUT THIS. we had chapters in his point of view where i'm pretty sure i recall him thinking about how glad he was that they had each other. we already know that he only trusts poppy with kieran. and if casteel had felt hurt or threatened by their behavior, we damn well would have heard about it. the man doesn't even like emil getting too close to her for fucks sake! i don't think he would have compromised his feelings just because kieran is his best friend. like point blank, he's a territorial fuck and he would have ripped kieran to pieces if he didn't like what he saw or came back to. he wouldn't have let the joining go that way. i said two more things, but i have more so i'll keep going. the joining turning that sexual was all about consent. it was all about poppy. neither of them pushed it on her, neither of them would have gone that route if she didn't want to. all three of them entered that situation knowing how intense it could become. we have heard about how intense it can become for several books now. and even when they started, casteel told her if it was too much they could stop at any time. we know that poppy is sexually curious. we know this about her. they have been in sexual situations with each other before. she watched him on the beach with at the wolven ceremony (was it a wedding? i haven't read it since like fall of last year lol oops) and he was watching them. and again, i will point out: casteel was okay with that. nothing about this hurt poppy and casteel's relationship. when poppy woke up the next morning she didn't have regrets, she wasn't feeling weird about it, i think she said it felt normal? she was cozy and sated and our queen deserves that. but none of it negatively impacted their relationship. it positively reinforced everything that they are. that poppy also loves kieran enough to bond his life to hers means so much to casteel. poppy doing this for kieran means so fucking much to him, are you kidding? the man is so in love with her and it only grew after that. they shared something so insanely emotional and intense. on that note: it wasn't smut written for smut. it had a purpose. some people are complaining that it wasn't graphic enough, but as i've talked about with some friends, it's perfect. i think it getting anymore explicit than it did would have felt out of place and made me dislike it to be honest. but it felt emotional and intense and beautiful and it didn't matter who was touching who where. it was about the feelings and their essence's bonding together. it was the perfect blend of spice and emotion in my opinion. also, i feel like the majority of people wanted this to happen. i don't think that jennifer is the type to change the course of her plot and plans to appease an audience, but i found very few people that agreed with me when i said i wasn't sure i wanted the joining to become sexual. i was pro joining all the way, because i wanted their lives tied together so they didn't have to lose each other. but i didn't want it to become sexual. all i saw online whether it be twitter, tiktok, the facebook group, instagram, or tumblr, was a sea of people wanting the threesome. we got the threesome, and people are losing their minds because it happened. but again, it made sense. things naturally escalated, it wasn't forced in the writing or between the characters. three consenting adults that love each other had sex together in the middle of an intense, passionate, and emotional moment. and THAT IS OKAY. as a society, most people are so attuned to monogamy that anything that isn't is just too far and crossing lines. i feel like people are forgetting that people can do this once and not do it again. it isn't like the time after the joining when poppy and casteel had sex that either of them was like "hey, should we include kieran in this?" if that had been the case, i would understand some of the frustration to some degree because that wouldn't make sense to poppy and casteel's characters currently. not to say they won't have another threesome, or a full out orgy later. if they do, that is OKAY. people can explore their sexuality with their partners and learn and find things that they like. that's the full beauty of being with someone that you trust so wholly. you can do those things and feel safe and not judged when doing it. and again, i don't think jennifer is doing or going to do anything that she didn't already want to do or plan to do. she isn't going to throw things in there for the sake of appeasing some of her readers. sure, she throws in inside jokes from the facebook group that we all love to see in the text. but i don't think she's going to throw in any sexual situations, sexual growth, or emotional growth that doesn't make any sense. all in all, i really enjoyed this book. i read it in one sitting on the day it released and plan to reread the entire series as a whole, including asite, after i finish reading hosab. it’s so much fun to go back and pick up on foreshadowing and little nuances we may have missed or forgot about in the space between the books. 

i hope you liked this bit of content! i normally don’t engage much in discourse but it felt necessary to me. please let me know if you’d like for me to keep making and posting book reviews. i really enjoy talking about books and this is a space that i know i can do that freely.

#twotq #twotq spoilers #the joining

[lebrookestore]

tape 5: play

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x reader

Themes: angst, ex! au, college-ish au, small town au. It goes back and forth a lot

Warnings: heavy angst, bittersweet ending, swearing, its very sad, chenle is a jerk

Wc: 6k

Playlist: 2 kids by Taemin, Gone by Rosé, Instagram by Dean, I still do by Why Don’t We, Believed by Lauv

Taglist: @danishmiilk @channoticedmeuwu @chicksung @1-800-seo @blueprint-han @jenosslut @cupidluvstarrz @kkakkdugi @sweetlyjaem @vera-liscious @leetaeyonglover @kunrengui @unknown5tar @kisshim @intokook @mrkcore @coco-riki

Summary: A year after your boyfriend moved away, you find yourself sitting in your room with five tapes, earphones, a cassette player and what you hoped, and feared, was closure.

Authors Note: hello! this fic was supposed to be a small blurb but then i got inspired and lo and behold its a full fledged fic! I can’t believe I wrote this in two days sdfjfjkfjk. Feedback would be very much appreciated for this, since I’ve never written anything like this before ;-;

Midtown, almost got a place out of midtown, Instead I took a plane out of this town, And missed out on us 

~

It was a sunny Saturday morning, as you pulled into your driveway, coming back from the store. 

Parking the car and getting the bags, you walked up to the door, knocking it and waiting. You were met with your mother’s smiling face as she took one of the bags of groceries from you.

You lived in a small sleepy town, and attended the college there as well, which meant you still stayed with your parents. You were fine with that, you liked living there, and you could forgo the stress and anxiety of having to re adjust to a new place.

This was your home. It always had been.

Of course, you had been on holidays to other places, you had visited the other town, but when it came to it, you had always found yourself back where you started. There was no other place for you, there never would be.

It was the truth, but it held something bitter.

Then again, you had enough going on already, with being in your freshman year, straight out of high school, college life was very different. You had been to a total of two parties so far, courtesy of your best friend— Lia— dragging you with her. 

You had enjoyed them, but it wasn’t something you would voluntarily participate in again.

The workload was something that had definitely changed, bogged down with mandatory lectures and assignments, tests popping up like a bad smell, you had more than enough to occupy you.

“Something has arrived for you!” Your mother said, almost excitedly, “It’s on the table.”

You helped her put away the groceries, walking to your living room, eyes falling on the package sitting on the table. It was somewhat shabbily wrapped, with tape haphazardly stuck on it to keep it together, and a tag pasted on the top.

Picking it up, you pass it from your right hand to your left, feeling its weight, reading the little tag. It held your address, your name and another name you hadn’t seen in almost a year.

Your mind ran at a hundred miles per minute, wondering why it was here, why his name was on it. It made no sense to you.

“Darling? Are you okay?”

Your mothers voice snapped out of your reverie, nodding slowly, “I’ll be in my room, finishing off a project”, you said carefully, trying not to show any sort of emotion as you climbed up the stairs of your house, two at a time, making sure not to drop the package.

Closing the door, you place it on your bed, reading over the tag again, a bitter taste filling your mouth. A name you hadn’t thought of in a year coming back now. It was so random, so absolutely unnecessary.

You curled your fingers around the messy brown paper, tearing it open as your mind reeled. The crackling sound filled the silence as the contents of it make itself known to you.

A shoebox.

It’s dusty, a dark blue colour with a line of red running at its side. There were two holes on either end, lined with metal piping and you could just about make out the nike symbol on the top. You brushed your hand over it, the dust coming off easily and sticking to your fingers.

Why would he send you this?

His name sticks out on the tag like a sore thumb, reminding you of what you lost, mocking you. Always content with where you are, hmm? His voice comes back, as clear as day. It’s as if he’s standing there, giving you his chesire cat grin as he spoke the words.

Zhong Chenle.

Lifting the lid off the box, you’re thrown into confusion. A cassette player, a pair of earphones, and five tapes. Picking up the player, you smile briefly at the dramatic set up. He could’ve called you, or sent a message, so why did he take the pains of sending you something as old and unnecessary as this?

Then again, it had been a year since he stopped picking up your calls, since you stopped trying to call him.  A year since all contact had been cut off, as if he had never existed in the first place.

Sometimes you wondered if Chenle had been a hallucination. An imaginary friend.

Friend.

The questions filter in. Why? It had been a year, so why had he sent you this now? You had finally told yourself you were over it, that you didn’t need an answer, but somehow as soon as you did that, you found yourself sitting in your room on your bed with what could be it.

The tapes were numbered in permanent marker in his messy handwriting, from one to five, indicating the order in which they were to be listened to in. You picked up the first, slotting it in the player and waiting.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for.

You pressed play. There was crackling, but only for a moment, until  it went silent. Maybe this was all a mistake, maybe this wasn’t even happening. Maybe-

i] tape 1: you deserve to hate me

Hey

His voice cut through your spiraling thoughts as you froze in place. He sounded the same as you last heard him, a little muffled due to the recording but the same. At the same time he sounded like a stranger. There was silence for a moment again, before he spoke up.

This is stupid isn’t it?

You felt the urge to answer, but your mouth went dry. It had been so, so long, and even though you had adequate time to get over him, it suddenly felt as if you were treading unfamiliar territory once again. 

I-I don’t know why I’m doing this. I think it’s because I feel so horrible, I need an outlet. I guess speaking it into existence and recording it makes is my outlet. Making it all real.

But that’s fucking terrifying.

You don’t think you’re following, confused once again. 

Y/n

You hear him take a deep breath right after your name, and it sends a chill down your spine, hearing him say your name once again. You had almost forgotten how it sounded.

I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, or listen to it. If you don’t I’ll actually be glad. You don’t deserve to, I’ve been a jerk to you. I’m sorry. I hope you hate me, I definitely deserve it.

I’m moving in two months.

The realization hits you, this had been recorded a year ago as well, two months before he left without a word or warning. It was old, he was here when he recorded it.

You didn’t quiet know how you felt, not yet anyways.

And you won’t know until I’m gone.

I’m moving to Korea, and I refuse to tell you, even if it makes me the bad guy, even if it feels worse, because that’s my dream. 

I got signed by a record label after sending them that demo I did —remember it? We both went to the studio together, you listening outside as I sang. You were right by my side, all the time.

Except now when I record this, except when I leave. 

I refuse to tell you, because the moment I do I know it’ll be real, realer than it is now as I say it. I don’t want to see the look on your face when I say I’m going, I know it’ll make me want to stay, but I don’t want to stay.

You knew exactly what he was talking about, you could recollect that day clearly. There was a small studio a little outside the town. That day, he had booked it for two hours to record a demo, his singing mentor with him and you tagging along.

It had always been like that, the two of you against the world, until, of course he left.

I physically can’t stay, I hate it here Y/n. It’s not for me, I want to get out, that had always been the plan. I want to get out and be free, I want to achieve my dreams. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe I don’t deserve a minute more of your time, but I want it all.

That’s why I’m not going to tell you —so I can have it all, at least until I don’t have you.

But you, you don’t deserve this, do you? Of course you don’t, but I suppose you’re the one with the shitty luck, you’re the one who ended up with me and now I’m going to hurt you. 

He laughs a dry, breathy laugh. It was half hearted, as if he was trying to get himself to believe the situation was funny. 

It’s not your fault I-fuck I’m sorry.

You heard a click and the tape died off, he had stopped recording there. The first tape was finished, and honestly, you didn’t know how to react. One part of you wanted to feel nothing, you wanted to put the player and the five tapes back into the box and send them away, or lock them in your closet to never find them again.

But the other part of you wanted to know more. You wanted to know how he felt, what went through his mind during that time. You wanted to know just how you lost Chenle, the first boy you ever loved.

Suddenly you felt overwhelmed, vulnerable almost. It was as if someone had opened up an old wound and left it open.

You got to your feet abruptly, pulling the earphones from your ears and dropping them on your bed, taking a step away and blinking rapidly. You couldn’t get caught up in the past, you couldn’t put yourself through that again.

But it was hard when the past was in your present.

Wasted, and all of my regret, I can taste it, If I had a time-machine, I would take it, And make it back to us

~

That night you couldn’t sleep.

The box sat on your desk, right next to your laptop, staring at you. You turned around on your bed, looking the other way, only to be met with the white of the walls.

You never liked the colour white.

It was too plain, too open for interpretation. It never had a solid answer. You liked stability, you wanted something permanent. You were the type of person that needed that reassurance.

Perhaps that’s why you were happy where you were, you didn’t find the appeal in starting over, because that meant nothing was certain. You stayed where you were because everything was already laid out for you.

It was like a colouring book in your little town, the lines all set out, everything drawn for you. Change meant you had to sketch everything from scratch. What if you messed up?

Needless to say, it was a good thing you weren’t an art major.

“This is ridiculous”, you whispered to yourself, sighing at the fact that you were now talking to yourself. You rolled over so that you were lying on your back, staring at the ceiling. The glow in the dark stars shone with their dull green light. You remember the day you had put them up, with Chenle.

You shared a lot of memories with him.

“Fucking hell”, you hissed, sitting up, swinging your legs off the edge of your bed and walking to your desk, sitting on the chair. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you picked up the second tape, inserting it in the player and putting the earphones on, waiting for it to begin.

ii] tape 2: milk before cereal

I know I’m making some terrible decisions, I really do, but if there’s one thing I stand by, its the fact that milk definitely goes before the cereal.

Why am I talking about this?

Well, because today you came over, Y/n, you came over and the two of us were watching a movie, and in the middle of it, you decided you wanted to have cereal, specifically frosted flakes.

So what do we do? We have cereal because I can’t say no to you. You’re welcome by the way, honestly, I deserve the boyfriend of the year award.

A moment of silence.

No I don’t. I really don’t.

You bit your lower lip, shutting your eyes. It was the way he switched, the way his demeanor changes so suddenly that made you want to scream. Sometimes it felt like he was telling a story, one you knew and loved.

Only for the next moment to bring you down to reality, reminding you that all stories don't have happy endings.

Anyways, we got the cereal and you objected when I put the milk first, saying that it was wrong, but how? In what way? Here me out Y/n, I shall tell you why I’m right, even If I’m not actually talking to you.

You couldn’t help but scoff at this, shaking your head at Chenle. He had always had a flair for being dramatic in the littlest ways possible. It was endearing.

Putting the cereal first means it sits in the milk for longer! If you put the cereal last, you can have it crunchy! Isn’t that ten times better? Unless you’re one of the devils spawn and like soggy cereal. If so I’m hypothetically breaking up with you right here right now.

Ah...bad wording. I keep forgetting I have to break up with you. I don’t want to, is that selfish?

You deserve the truth, if only I was strong enough to give it to you. Staying silent is so much easier.

It’s not lying, not completely anyways. I’m not lying if I don’t tell you at all. I suppose it’s a half truth then, with the truth hidden in plain sight. 

*click*

Lying. That’s what he did, even though he spent the last few minutes of the tape trying to justify it, he lied. He trampled all over your heart without a single warning.

You had trusted Chenle, having known him since you were thirteen. He had completely destroyed that trust. Something like that couldn’t be fixed so easily, not even if he had sent you these tapes.

Then again, you didn’t know why he sent them.

You retreated to your bed, turning away from the tapes, the words and memories they held, facing white once again.

You had met Chenle when the two of you were thirteen, in eight grade math. The boy was failing the class, and one day you found him sitting early morning in class, with his head in his hands as he groaned over some sort of equation.

You had offered to help, and the smile he gave was the brightest one you had ever seen, he was practically grinning from ear to ear. That was the beginning of your friendship, and the two of you were inseperable.

Ninth grade it was confirmed that the two of you were best friends, sitting together, complaining about teachers together, going places together so your parents didn’t need to tag along.

In your last year of high school the two of you started dating, and when you had told your parents, they were ecstatic, confessing they had always thought the two of you would end up together.

He was always there for you, every time you needed him. You could give him a call and he would be outside your door. If you were feeling insecure or scared, he was always there to hype you up.

You had been best friends before, you were lovers then, and it was amazing. You loved everything about being with Chenle. You loved everything about him, from his toothy grin to his obnoxiously loud laugh.

You loved the way his eyes sparkled when he had an idea (which, for the most part, were absolutely terrible. Needless to say the two of you got in trouble a lot), when he sang for you when you stayed over, the way he would always make sure you were never cold.

You loved him.

It was written in the stars, you were meant to be, it was the perfect combination. Chenle was the right person for you- the perfect person.

A year later you woke up with him gone, no texts, no warnings. He had just gone, leaving you alone.

Right person, wrong time.

Monday came around sooner than you thought it would, the weekend passing in a blur as you walked out of your first class, spotting Lia leaning against the wall outside your class, scrolling through something on her phone.

She was an exchange student, not originally from your town, but had fit right in. Sometimes you wished you could be like that.

“Oh! You’re out! Listen, there’s a party on Friday and you’re coming with me”, she stated. It wasn’t a request, it was a fact, you were to go with her. In her own words, ‘if I didn’t exist you’d probably have no social life.’

To be fair, she wasn’t wrong.

You nodded defeatedly, walking with her down the hallway, “I assume you want to go because of the cute new guy?”

She glared, but didn’t refute your accusation, “His name is Mark”, she said, “And that is none of your business.”

You snickered, “Oh it so is, you like him don’t you? Is this going to be another one of your crushes?”

Lia was notorious for having a new crush almost every week, being a very flighty person, her mind changed before you could even say her name. This was a bit of a problem, considering you went to her for advice a lot.

Her indecisive nature was not the best for that.

She rolled her eyes at this, “He’s cute, why not? Wonder if I can get him to dance with me at the party. You’re going to be my hype woman-”

“And the sober buddy?”

Lia ignored that.

“Also there’s this new singer”, she said, handing you one of her earbuds, “apparently he came from here!”

Taking one of the earbuds, you were hit with a familiar voice. It sounded amazing honestly, catchy, everything a song needed, but it was the voice that hit you. You didn’t even need to ask Lia for the singer, swallowing the lump in your throat and glancing at her phone, which confirmed your suspicions.

Filling with some sort of dread, your hands immediately went to hold your hand, specifically the bottom where the cassette player and the tapes were. You had been carrying them around with you, as if scared they would disappear if you left them alone.

“Isn’t he good?”

You nodded, not daring to answer as you bit your lower lip, “Hey Lili, I need to use the washroom so see ya later”, you said, handing her the earbud and taking off in the other direction, pushing open the doors to the washroom and getting into one of the stalls.

You had stalled listening to the next tape all Sunday, you didn’t even know why, but hearing him sing, that fact that he had actually made it, it struck something in you. You wanted to feel proud of him, but all you felt was bitter.

Was it a coincidence that this new singer had come out- Chenle himself- right when you received the tapes?

Pushing the top of the toilet down, you took a seat, taking the player out and plugging in, you pressed play for the third tape, waiting for it to begin playing.

tape iii] ill miss our dates

Remember when we went for that field trip? Ninth grade? We sat in the back of the bus together avoiding the stares of our teachers when they told us to sit down?

Then they pulled us apart? Yeah, mean fuckers.

Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about, I just felt like reminiscing for a sec there, but today we went of a date! Well, I mean we got ice cream and then went to the park, but hey, it was fun.

You smiled. He had always jumped from one topic to another without any meaning to either. Sometimes it was a frustrating habit, (you had been on the receiving end of these useless conversations several times, which ended with you glaring at him exasperatedly), but for the most part, extremely comical.

I’m going to miss that. I’m going to miss you. Your little smile — have I ever told you just how pretty your smile is? Your eyes light up and crinkle at the sides and its something I don’t think I’ll ever forget, even when I’m gone. 

You clutched the cassette player, marveling at the irony. He was talking about your smile, but why did you want to cry?

It’s a month left now, and I want to make the most of it. Tomorrow I’m taking you to the amusement part and then next week I’m surprising you with dinner. I guess doing things for you —for us — makes me feel better, like I’m compensating.

You deserve the world Y/n, and I want to see that world while you’re happy where you are.

You don’t deserve having to deal with me.

*click*

Your eyes burned, because you remembered each of those events. You had been so happy, so overjoyed at them. They burned with tears because there it was again, that reminder that you were destined to be stuck right where you were, because you were that idiot who was content.

But if someone, anyone, asked you at that very moment if you were happy, the answer would’ve been an outright no.

1 YEAR AGO

~

“Hey Chenle?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you want to leave?”

The boy thought about this for a second, before smiling wistfully, “Don’t you want to know how it is outside home?”

“But everything I need is here.”

Your eyes held a question, you were genuinely baffled by his reasoning, the way he was so stuck of getting out. You studied your bewildered expression, shaking his head. “You’re lucky”, he said finally, “You know exactly what you want.”

“Of course I don’t, but I know what I need Chenle, and that’s all around me.”

He shook away his other thoughts, “Hey maybe we’ll go exploring the world together some day. 

You blinked, “You want me there with you?”

He nodded, grinning widely, “I want to take you along, Imagine, it’ll be fucking awesome, and hey this time there will be no teachers to separate us. We can even stand in the bus-if we’re taking a bus, that it.”

You laughed, “Maybe”, you mused, looking back down at your phone, “While I don’t exactly see the appeal, it would be fun to be with you.”

Chenle’s smile faltered, but he didn’t let it fall completely, wrapping his arms around you and sighing, closing his eyes and whispering something just loud enough for you to hear.

“Maybe.”

Why did it feel this way?

Chenle was right- you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to feel this way at all. It had been a year, so why did it affect you?

Why was it all happening at once?

You clicked your tongue, eyeing the player with contempt. You felt pathetic for being curious, for still feeling so attached to old news. It wasn’t as if it was going to change anything, so why?

Why did you still want to know?

Curiosity killed the cat. You wondered if knowing would somehow kill you.

No one was at home currently, so you sat in the living room on your couch. The items you were trying so hard to ignore were sitting on the small table in front of the couch, as if waiting for you to pick them up once again.

You wondered if you should tell Lia and ask her opinion about the situation. She may not be that helpful, but hell, she could help you burn the tapes if worse came to worse.

Sometimes you wished you had never met Chenle, that your history with him could be erased from your memories. You wished it never existed because fuck, it still hurt.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and pressed play.

tape iv] firsts with you

Do you remember our first kiss?

We were eighteen, in my room, playing Jenga. That was a year ago, oh god, I can’t even imagine, how has it been a year? You were wearing one of my shirts and jeans, your hair was in a ponytail. The two of us were sitting on the carpet on my floor.

You had successfully gotten one of the wooden pieces out of a risky area of the tower, but then it was my turn, it feel to the ground, destroyed.

I blamed you, and you laughed, and our banter continued. We argued and at one point I started tickling you to get you to shut up, because honestly-Jesus Christ Y/n you’re fucking stubborn.

Anyways I ended up on top of you and the two of us were laughing. You looked so pretty, hair messily scattered around your face as you attempted to get out of my hold. 

I leaned down and kissed you.

Your throat closed up as he spoke. Your eyes stung and you raked your hand through your hair, biting down on your lower lip. The way he was speaking about it, as if he would do anything to go back, it struck something in you.

Because if you had the chance, you would go back as well.

You tasted like that strawberry chapstick you liked to wear. I could tell you were surprised, because you didn’t kiss me back for a good two seconds  —which, by the way sent me into a panic for a moment there.

But then you kissed me, and fuck, it was like everything had stopped. I couldn’t think for a second, it was like the world had started spinning around me, and the only thing that was keeping me grounded, was you.

Was it supposed to hurt like this?

You sucked in a sharp breath, fingers fisted the material of your shirt as you tried keeping your composure. You didn’t want to cry, but he was making it so, so hard for you. 

You remembered how it felt when he kissed you, you were legitimately so confused, was he really kissing you? Your best friend, the boy you had loved quietly for so long, kissing you?

Chenle was your first kiss, and it was the most perfect first kiss you could have ever asked for, even if you were on the floor, with random Jenga blocks scattered around the two of you.

The smile you gave me after I pulled away, I wish I could remember it forever. It was goofy as you burst into giggles, and asked me, “What was that for?”

I blinked in surprise, wondering how you seemed so normal, when for me everything had changed. I had kissed my best friend, the one girl I care the most about.

I must have looked like a tomato oh god.

Instead of waiting for my to answer, you sat up, pulling me into another kiss. This time it was me who was unprepared. The kiss was messy, it had no structure or plan, but I realized in that moment, that I really liked kissing you, and I wanted to do it more often.

You became my girlfriend.

The wistful tone he was using was starting to affect you. You had loved Chenle, almost too much. You could almost feel that nostalgic happiness you felt that day when he kissed you for the first time, the disbelief and joy that wrapped around the two of you. 

A wave of sadness followed that nostalgia.

Our first date was so fucking awkward. We were at that little cafe you loved, you ordered a cheesecake and I got a smoothie, and then we sat in silence for a good five minutes.

It really shouldn’t have been that painful, considering we knew everything about each other already, then again that might be why it was awkward, I had nothing to ask you about.

So naturally I brought up school and that started it, the two of us complaining about the amount of assignments we had, and Mrs. Choi’s annoying squeaky voice- I swear to god that woman took a second for each word.

But I digress.

Slowly our conversation felt normal again, it was just us, eating cheesecake and drinking smoothies, together.

That wave of sadness crashed down upon you like a tsunami, trying to snuff you out. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, you were struggling to keep yourself together. You were struggling to stay afloat, you had lost any leverage you had that was holding you up.

You couldn’t fight the waves.

My flight is in two hours. It’s four in the morning and we’re about to walk through the door and get to the airport, but I wanted to talk to you once again, even if we’re not really talking.

I’m pathetic.

You’re sleeping, in your bed at your home, you don’t know I’m going because I’m the coward that refused to tell you the truth. I’ll be gone by the time you wake up and then you’ll know.

You’ll know how much of a waste of time I was.

And then you were angry.

You were angry because he had no right to just come back into your life like this, no fucking right to make you cry. He wasn’t even here, but somehow he had managed to make you fall apart just with his words, with his voice.

He had no right to tear your world apart, the little composure you had standing. You had finally accepted the fact that he was gone, you had moved on, and even tried to forget.

But here he was, making sure you could never forget.

You hated how selfish he was, how absolutely fucking oblivious. He had no clue, not even one as to how you felt when he just disappeared from your life, as if he never existed. He had broken you and here he was, breaking you again.

With trembling hands, you stopped the tape from playing any further, angry tears making their way down your face as you flung the player across the room. You had no intention of listening any further, you didn’t want to, you didn’t care.

Closure hurt more than him leaving.

You buried your head in your hands, letting yourself fall apart, but just this once.

tape iv] continued [unheard]

I’m sorry Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry. 

You don’t have to believe me, because I’m leaving anyways, so I suppose that cancels out my apologies huh? I’m the worst person you ever met. I’m not stopping, I’m not going to leave you a text.

Because I don’t want to hurt you anymore.

I’ll be gone before we could ever be.

Should’ve believed in us, while we existed, cuz now the whole things fucked, and just a figment of my imagination

~

Time heals all hurt, and reminders bring them back, cutting through your skin like a knife, making you bleed.

A week later, you found yourself sitting in your favorite cafe, the same cafe Chenle talked about in the last tape. You ordered a cheesecake and a smoothie, inserting the fifth and final tape into the player.

The last time you did this, you were left hurt and distraught, promising yourself you would never go back to listen to him again. You had put the shoebox in your closet, hiding it behind your clothes that hung from the rack.

Yet here you were.

You didn’t bother finishing the fourth tape, you didn’t see the need to. 

This tape, you observed, was newer looking, with less scratches on the plastic, even the marker on the side looked more recent, a little rushed if you went into detail. 

The cheesecake and drink arrived, and you took a bite, pressing play.

tape v] play

Hey.

He sounded a little different too, older perhaps. His voice was smoother, but he sounded unsure of himself. It sounded as if he was trying to figure out how to approach the topic. He was being cautious.

It’s been a while. I...I don’t know why I’m doing this. There’s no point- you’re not even here. I found these stupid tapes yesterday in my dorm when I was cleaning out and gave them a listen.

Silence.

I envy you, Y/n. I wish I was like you, happy wherever I was. But I’m not, and I probably caused you great unhappiness while trying to search for my own- but I was happy with you, so happy it was ridiculous.

I sabotaged that.

You sighed, realizing you felt nothing. You were tired of crying over Chenle, you were done doing that. Instead you felt empty, like you had been tired out, like it didn’t matter anymore. At this point you were to get it over with, to finish it off on  clean ending note.

My song comes out next week, and it’ll be done. I’ve made it Y/n, I’ve gotten to where I wanted to be, the place I had worked so hard to get to. I’ve sacrificed so much for this and it’s all been worth it- except one thing.

I don’t expect you to listen to my song, I just wanted to tell you. I..I hope you’re proud of me. Even if I was a jerk, I hope you can be proud, at least a little bit, because then I’ll have finally made it.

I miss you.

The same words are at the tip of your tongue, I miss you, I miss you so fucking much, but they never came out. They didn’t have to, it would be useless. He would never hear them.

Instead, you swallowed them back down.

And even though I made fun of you for staying home, I hope you’re happy like I am, I hope we’ll meet again one day. If we do I challenge you to a game of Jenga, loser buys the winner ice cream.

I-fuck this is the hardest part- but I hope you’ve moved on. One of us has to.

*click*

You don’t take the tape out of the player, you don’t touch it at all. You feel oddly calm as you take another bite of your cheesecake, savoring the strawberry reserve that it came with it. You could almost imagine yourself at eighteen again sitting opposite your new boyfriend.

You missed it, the memories that came along with it. That was it, you missed the feelings you had.

But you were okay. You would be okay right where you were, because that’s where you belonged. It hurt, yeah, but it had hurt back then as well. Now it was just a dull ache, all that was left was regret.

Regret that it didn’t work out, regret over unspoken words and unnecessary pain.

A familiar song filled the cafe as you smiled somewhat sadly, leaning back in your seat and closing your eyes.

“I’m proud of you Chenle”, you whispered, “Because you did what I couldn’t”

You left the cafe a little later, with the cassettes in your bag, an empty plate and the smoothie sitting on the table, untouched. After all, that smoothie wasn’t for you.

There was nothing to wait for anymore. You had loved and you had lost, Chenle was a stranger with your secrets and a familiar voice and that was it. 

You had forgiven him a long time ago, even without him being deserving of it. Now with all the loose ends being tied up, it felt like you could finally let go of him, you could finally move on.

And forget.

#chenle x reader #kpopscape #nctcreations #neoculturecafe #nct-writers #cznnet #neowritingsnet #zhong chenle x reader #nct chenle x reader #nct #chenle #zhong chenle #nct fanfiction #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle fanfiction #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #dreamies #dream chenle #chenle oneshots

[simplepotatofarmer]

You’ve said Headcanons you have for techno but do you have any for Dream or Phil?

i do! i think about these two quite a lot, honestly, because they're two of my favorites. <3 <3

c!phil headcanons:

- he has very sharp eye-sight which is kind of to be expected but he also has an eye for colors and shapes as well. in fact, phil can see more colors than an average human and that's why he insists on being the one to do most of the designing and decorating.

- phil has kept every letter from wilbur which is quite a lot. he re-reads them sometimes when he can't sleep, thinking it'll help him sleep. it never does but that doesn't stop him from doing it each time.

- in his past, he gained extensive military experience and he's especially good with a bow. when wilbur was young, phil taught him how to shoot and they would often go out hunting in the early mornings and watch the sunrise.

- this is one i've picked up from fandom, but i do really like the idea of phil using a cane. before he might have been so used to flying to travel and found that after he lost use of his wings, it had become harder to walk without assistance.

- while phil isn't the sort of immortal who thinks he knows everything or to treat others as kids, he does have a.... looser grip on things than most. it's easier for him to forget how time passes, constraints of gender etc. don't really matter to him. in a way it seems pointless to him, not something he bothers thinking about.

c!dream headcanons:

- he knows sign language. at first it was a practical thing because there were a lot of situations he was in that required the ability to communicate silently and dream felt that it was just. good sense to know more than one language. after the prison, however, he uses it a bit more due to selective mutism because of his trauma.

- on the topic of languages, he also knows enderspeak and piglin. it is something he actively learned though because he has a connection to the server/world, learning came much easier to him than most.

- dream has the tendency to overthink things. he goes over each option, trying to figure out the best solution. because of that, he tends to feel like he has to stick with whichever option or solution he came to. because for him, the ends always justify the means, it's a lot easier to stick with options or plans that are way more extreme than possibly needed.

- he wears dresses and skirts and this isn't a headcanon, that's just actual canon.

- dream is also very uninhibited when it comes to nudity. like, it absolutely does not matter to him. if the mood strikes or it seems like it might be funny (like when he took off his pants 'cause it was making techno laugh), he just goes for it. he might be very reserved when it comes to his thoughts and feelings, but he just doesn't attach that kind of weight to nudity.

#loyal answers things #listen...... #selectively mute characters are important to me no i'm not projecting from my childhood leave me alone #dream smp #dsmp headcanon #dreamwastaken #philza

[dirtychocolatechai]

meet-cute | b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): fluff, awkward Bucky, vet appointment stuff, Alpine Request: Babes if you're lowkey taking requests can I lowkey make one? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺💕 something flirty and cute and maybe a lil spicy with Bucky and vet!reader where something's going on with Alpine? Not self indulgent at all 😻💖 Notes: This was the first thing I’ve written in months and it felt damn good. Funny story, I actually almost went to school to be a vet tech + shadowed a vet for two weeks and got to see some wickedly cool things.

This was a bit self-indulgent on my part because I had a cat who passed away some years ago because of struvite stones and I wished he had a happier ending like Alpine so I thought why not 🤷‍♀️💖

Taglist is open

(gif from google)

There’s nothing Bucky hates more than the stringent smell of industrial cleaners and clinical white walls - too many associations and shades of memory long laid to rest - except for when something’s going on with Alpine. The Turkish Angora was fine up until a few days ago when he started to hide away and sleep all day.

That wasn’t too concerning at first...

But then came the pained little noises, the frantic running back and forth from the litter box, the excessive grooming. The pit that started forming low in his belly grew, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very wrong, with his little buddy. 

Bucky wasn’t about to fuck around and set up an appointment with the first vet office he could find that had a same-day opening. And now he’s trying not to fall apart at the seams while he waits for the docs to do their magic and tell him what the hell’s going on with his cat and what he has to do to fix it.

The vet tech collected Alpine a bit ago and every minute stretches into years, the cat’s pitiful meow echoing in his ears and those betrayed eyes burned onto the backs of his eyelids.

I know, Bub, I’m sorry but they gotta figure out what’s going on. It’ll be okay, they’ll take care of you. 

His ass went numb from the plastic chair ages ago, his leg jiggling up and down at a rapid pace as he chews on his thumbnail and waits.

And waits.

And waits.

God, he knows these things take time but he’d rather be back at home, curled up on the couch with Alpine pigging out on breakfast food and watching space documentaries. 

How much longer-

“Alright, Mr. Barnes?”

The heavy door swings open with a click, a kind, professional voice preceding a pair of sensible shoes as the vet steps into the room with a clipboard cradled against her chest. His eyes snap up, skipping over her completely to look at the tech holding his cat who looks absolutely miserable. 

She introduces herself but he’s not paying attention. He’s not meaning to be rude but all his focus narrows in on that white little face, the knot in his chest unfurling at the little mew.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he breathes, “Hey there, Little Buddy.” 

The vet doesn’t push, in fact, she seems a little enamored with how much he melts at the sight of his pet. Her own lips quirk up into a soft smile while she stands off to the side patiently as Alpine’s set down on the metal table.

Bucky gets in a few good scritches under his chin, the beginnings of a purr just starting to vibrate his hand when the vet clears her throat delicately. 

He clears his throat, heat burrowing into the apples of his cheeks. “Shi - uh, ‘m sorry.” A hand scrubs over the back of his neck. “I’m just - uh - y’know...” 

Her laugh trickles down his spine like warm rain, the sound effectively drawing his attention away from the cat rubbing up against his side. He gets his first look at her and oh.

A bare face and a no-nonsense hairstyle greet him, her scrubs and white coat adding to the overall doctor vibe but she’s still breathtaking. The natural beauty in the curves of her face, the slant of her brows, the sparkle of her eyes.

He feels like he got sucker-punched in the chest, his heart giving a sudden throb that has him coughing like an idiot as he scrambles to not look like such a jackass.

“So,” he clears his throat, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “What’s - what’s wrong with him?” 

Glancing down at Alpine’s chart, she hums and writes a note before glancing back up with a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t be managed with a special diet and watching his water intake.”

It’s like the weight of the world disappears from his shoulders, his broad frame practically heaving with his sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking- ahem, ‘scuse me - thank god.” 

Her chuckle and sly smile have him blushing from the roots of his hair to the collar of his shirt, his stomach squirming in discomfort. Old habits are hard to break, especially ones his momma taught him with a box to the ear.

“You’re allowed to swear, Mr. Barnes,” she says, reaching down to run her fingers through snow-white fur. “We’re all adults here.” 

“No, no, I know...” 

“Hm, anyway, his blood work came back and everything looks fine which is a good thing.” 

And it’s back to business like that, any hint of personality hidden behind cool professionalism that Bucky thinks even Tasha would admire. Except for the playful gleam in her eyes as she sneaks peeks at him while going over everything they did and what they found. 

“Struvite crystals are quite common in cats at low levels, especially males because their tract is longer and narrower.” She pauses, flipping to a new page. “Depending on the severity, they can clump together in the urinary tract and actually form stones. That’s where the true problem lies because get one large enough, and it can cause a blockage.”

He’s listening with rapt attention, soaking in the knowledge she’s imparting to him all the while, petting Alpine who keeps nuzzling him and making little sounds. Honestly, he could listen to her talk for hours even if he didn’t understand a goddamn thing. 

She’s so animated when she speaks, holds eye contact and makes sure he understands everything without making him feel like an idiot. He’s had so many doctors who talked at him rather than with him, staring through him without seeing, more interested in the paycheck rather than their patients.

But not her, she cares.

Deeply.

He can see it all over her face and it’s utterly enchanting. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little enamored, charmed.

Turning the tablet towards him, she shifts closer and a waft of whatever perfume she’s wearing tickles his nose as she explains what the x-ray of Alpine’s abdomen found.

“These are the stones but thankfully they’re relatively small,” she points to several hazy white ovals starkly visible on the radiograph, “We caught them in time before they became a really big problem.” 

Shit, she smells so good...

 “Now, we’ll send you home with a special diet and see how he does. Also, make sure to up his fluid intake as much as you can. The food can take several months to start dissolving the crystals so we’ll have to do everything we can to help. Sound good?”

Bucky hasn’t pulled his eyes away from her face once this entire time, and how fucking creepy is that?

Quickly looking down at Alpine, embarrassment gnawing at his belly, he nods and wishes for the first time since he cut his hair that he hadn’t so he’d at least have a passing chance at hiding the blush burning its way across his face. 

“Yeah,” he says, picking up the ball of white fluff to hold against his chest, a makeshift shield. “Is there anything else I should do?” 

“No.” She smiles, writing another note and tapping away at the tablet next to her. “I do want to see him again in about a month for a check-up.”

Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave so soon.

The irony isn’t lost on him either.

How does he make this last longer? What can he do? If Sam was here right now, he’d be kicking him in the ass and bitching at him to ask for her number already, Ice Pick.

The clack of the chart being set down rings through the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding so fucking final that he starts to panic. 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

She’s already halfway to the door when she asks, “Do you have any questions?”

The word vomit spring from him, unbidden and sudden without any thought, more forward than he’s been with a woman in years.

“Can I have your number?”

As soon as the question leaves his lips, he curses, cringes and wishes he could snatch the very words from the air itself.

Great, I just hit on my vet.

No amount of backpedaling can salvage this but goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t try, stuttering out some half-assed excuse about wanting it just in case he thinks of something later.

When he glances up, he wishes he hadn’t. The vet tech is in near tears in the corner, biting her lips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they started to bleed.

But it’s the absolute surprised bafflement on the woman he just inappropriately hit on that does him in, makes him about ready to burn all forms of identification and run for the hills. 

Her brows nearly reach her hairline, her mouth slack, eyes startled. She gets ahold of herself before he does, and he barely stops himself from slapping a hand over his face.

Right when he’s thinking there’s no way he’s going to be able to show his face in the office again, her expression softens with gentle amusement and her lips twitch. 

Struck dumb, he can only watch as she writes something down on a slip of paper before handing it over to him. He barely believes the string of numbers and the cheeky little call me anytime :).

The wink she sends his way is there and gone, so fast he almost believes he imagined it. 

“For emergencies only,” she says, slyly. “Of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees, almost tripping over the cat carrier as he hurries to stuff Alpine back in. “Of course, thank you. I...appreciate it.” 

“Anytime, Mr. Barnes.” 

Bucky leaves the room in a stupor, the world sharply shifted to the left as he heads to the front desk to make the follow-up appointment, but not before hearing the whispered, “Girl, you’re lucky. He’s fine!” and the “He is, isn’t he?”. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you

[aliwritesss]

~ Labyrinth

Pairings: Eric x reader

Genre: Fuckboy au!, angst

Summary: “How did I end up being like this?”

You were laying in your bed trying to remember when was the exact moment you knew you were in trouble, when you knew that there was no going back.

But you couldn’t.

You couldn’t remember when was the moment you let your walls down and let him enter your heart. And you were starting to think it happened the first moment he laid his eyes on you.

When a pair of deep brown eyes looked at you and made you feel everything.

They warned you so many times, that he wasn’t the right boy, that you could be friends with him but that’s it.

To not fall in love with him.

And if you could have a time machine you would go back in time and not go to that party.

Where everything started.

Kevin kept saying he wanted to go and that it wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t going, so he ended up convincing you to go to his fraternity, TBZ frat.

You were expecting the unexpected like always, but you wouldn’t have thought in a million years that night was going to start one of the best and worst moments of your life.

You walked in ready to have a good time, greeting your friends and classmates and ready to dance and relieve all stress you’ve been under for the past few weeks.

But you felt something was off, and you couldn’t catch why.

And then he appeared, like he was the owner of the whole universe. Once he entered your eyes were glued to him, he had this power every time he was in the same room as you. He attracted you like a magnet, and you could fight all you want but that wouldn’t change anything.

But something changed that night, something made him look at you, go to where you were standing, take your drink and sip without breaking eye contact. You lied to everyone and said that it didn’t affect you, but he made you feel weak.

You couldn’t say anything for a hot second, too shocked to say something but if you knew something is that you weren’t going to let him go so easily, he was hot and all, but you weren’t going to let anyone, not even Eric Sohn, treat you like an easy girl.

“ Are you thirsty?” You asked him with your most sensual voice.

“ I’ve been dying to take a sip since I came.”

“ Let me help you with that.” And the next thing you did was to throw your drink on his shirt.

“ Next time ask, asshole.” You replied to him. He was too shocked to even notice the way you were shaking, but someone needs to put him in his place.

And now that you think about it, maybe that is what you did wrong, you caught his attention.

He kept his distance from you at the party but the next day he had this superior smile again in his face.

“ I hope you know what you did last night was a little bit messed up, love.” He said.

“ And I hope you learnt that you can’t go around taking sips from other people's drinks.”

“ Seems like we learned a lesson yesterday, Y/N.”

And since that moment he started going with you more. You were acquaintances since both of you shared the same group of friends, but the only conversations you had with him were superficial.

He started to wait with you for Kevin or Jacob, talking to you more and opening slowly. And suddenly you were texting each other lame things late at night and you couldn’t stop smiling.

He made you smile and that was dangerous.

Everytime you locked eyes with him, you’d feel this warm feeling spreading around your stomach, making you feel like no one did before. He had the power to make you feel like you were the only one in the room. But still, you thought you had everything under control. And you did.

Till one night he texted you he needed to see you.

You were worried, you didn’t expect from the cool Eric to actually need someone so you took some things and went to his dorm.

You remember perfectly the image you saw the moment you entered his room, an Eric crying on the sofa, not being able even to look at you straight in the eyes.

“ What’s wrong Eric? What happened?” You told him worriedly. Once he heard your voice he lifted his head up and went to hug you.

“ Don’t leave me Y/N. If you do, there's nothing left.” He says quietly on your neck. You didn’t know what was wrong at the moment but one thing you knew is that he needed you and you were never going to leave his side.

And that's how you stayed the whole night, hugging each other and running your hands through his hair till he fell asleep. You don’t know how long you kept staring at his profile, the curve of his nose, his lips, how soft they looked, his eyelashes, how short they were but still so thick. You traced the letters of his tattoos delicately while smiling softly. Even though they were small, he always bragged about them.

And days started to pass and you felt how Eric attracted you more and more, how you started to care about what he was doing, if you were going to see him on the weekend or if he would text you the next day. He entered your heart without knocking and there wasn’t a way back now.

He came to stay and you didn’t know when he’d leave you without telling first. But deep down you knew, you knew that this game was going to end one day. That you’d wake up one day he wouldn't be next to you.

Despite everything, you still hoped that he’d stay forever with you, and maybe in another life he would have but the universe can be sarcastic sometimes.

He had the power to light you up like Venus, to break you down into tiny pieces and putting it all together again. And he told you, one night he told you he was up to no good, that you deserved better but he couldn’t let you go. He was addicted to you and that he was sorry for being so selfish.

You want to laugh out loud now, because he was right.

He was being selfish. But still, you needed his touch, to hear him laugh, his hugs.. You needed him. And even though you had a million reasons why you should give him up, you didn’t.

The boys told you a million times to stop this game, that the one that would end up getting hurt was going to be you, he cared about you but he wasn’t going to make you his first priority. But it’s funny how blind you can be when you are in love with someone.

You thought he was bringing joy to your boring life but he wasn’t, he was sucking the life out of you. And the worst of it, it’s that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He truly cared about you, but you weren’t the only one.

And one day you woke up crying, you looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a broken and addicted girl.

You had a fight for a stupid thing again and that ended up no talking for 10 days.

Yes, you were counting them.

But you had enough.

You weren’t going to keep playing this game anymore.

And that’s how you ended up laying in your bed now. One month later and still recovering. Everyone told you that you made the right decision but you still think that you should’ve reached him and talked to him and made him choose.

But you were afraid he wasn’t going to pick you.

So you ran away, since that’s the only thing you can do perfectly.

You stopped checking what he was doing everyday and tried to stop thinking of him. Key word, tried.

You still cared a lot about him.

The worst of it was that you knew he was in pain.

You saw him one day on campus with Sunwoo and he looked devastated, he didn’t have that superior smile anymore, there were bags under his eyes and Changmin told you he wasn’t even sleeping in his room anymore. He couldn’t when you weren’t there to hug him, he said.

You can’t understand why two people who were madly in love couldn’t be together, but sometimes not everything is about being in love.

You almost reached to him one day, but then you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t have this spark in your eyes anymore, the one he always lit.

But you also saw that you gained a little bit of weight, that you were starting to sleep better, that you were actually getting your shit together and that you weren’t dependent on anyone anymore. And that made you feel good for the first time in a while.

You grabbed your things and made your way to class thinking “who knows, maybe one day he’ll realise what he lost and comes back, ready to love me but in the right way”.

A/N: Hey guys!! Here’s my little AU of Eric. I’m going to do a series for this one, but I’d like to know if you prefer if it’s before this takes place or after? Like how was getting to know him, falling in love... lots of fluff scenarios but also a lot of angst. Or after the break up, it’ll be have fluff scenarios since you two get back but will not have that much of angst like the first option.

Let me know what you’d like to see in the comments!! ❤️❤️

#the boyz #the boyz eric #the boyz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz series #the boyz au #tbz eric #tbznetwork #tbz x reader #tbz reactions #tbz #eric sohn

[writinglizards]

Something the Cat Dragged In

Summary: It's been almost a year since Lambert's seen Aiden.

He's likely not interested anymore, even if Lambert had done his best to curb his sharpest edges, keep him coming back. It hurts and he tells himself it doesn't. It's better than the alternative. Better than Aiden hurt...or worse.

Then he finds the cat.

Pairing: Aiden/Lambert Rating: Teen Warnings: None

This is for @contemplativepancakes who asked for a comedy of errors. I am awful at that, but I’ve been assured this is funny, so. Please enjoy!

Read on Ao3

It's been almost a year since Lambert's seen Aiden when he finds the cat.

Or more accurately, perhaps, the cat finds him.

It's been about two weeks since he set out from Kaer Morhen to the clearing where he usually meets Aiden. He hadn't shown last year and Lambert hadn't been able to find him, even keeping an ear out for word about a tall, dark-haired cat witcher too nice for his own good.

He's not sure what he's hoping for this year, or at least he's not comfortable admitting to himself what he's hoping for. He likes Aiden, but they don't need to travel together. He's sure he's fine, he's just...busy.

It doesn't make the ache in his chest any easier to deal with, but he pretends it does.

Regardless, he heads for their meeting spot and sets up camp. He'll wait a week and if Aiden still hasn't shown after that, well.

He's fine. He's just...not interested in Lambert anymore, probably.

That hurts worse, somehow.

-----

The cat shows up the second morning Lambert's camped out.

It's a skinny thing, sleek black with a patch of white on his chest and haunting green eyes.

Lambert wakes up to the creature nestled between his calves and startles, upsetting the cat who mews his annoyance and bites his foot. Lambert shoots out of his bedroll after that.

"What the fuck?" he asks the cat, who eyes him with distaste but doesn't move, and Lambert figures, well. The cat will leave on its own he'll just...wait.

-----

The cat doesn't leave, and it's starting to freak Lambert out, just a little bit.

When he settles down to eat, the cat creeps from his bedroll to sit by his boots and stare with big, green eyes that remind him of Aiden. He shoves that thought from his head as quickly as it arrives.

"Cats don't like witchers," he says, as if the cat might have forgotten, but he doesn't move, just sits and stares at Lambert's jerky.

"Are you just hungry?" he asks, and, after a brief hesitation, he snaps a small piece off and offers it to the cat. The cat, for his part, briefly sniffs the offering before taking it into his mouth only to drop it on the floor and bat it around like a toy.

"Really?" he asks the cat, but the cat doesn't seem to care about Lambert's none too silent judgment, just continues to amuse himself with the bit of food. Lambert only hopes the little creature will move on, and quickly.

-----

It keeps trying to creep into his bedroll.

"You can't sleep here," he hisses, shoving the little creature away from his feet for the third time in as many minutes. In response, the cat hisses and bites, sinking its sharp little teeth into Lambert's calf.

"Son of a bitch." The cat stares defiantly at Lambert over its mouthful of flesh as if daring him to retaliate. Reluctantly, he can admit the little thing has gumption.

"You're mean you know that?" he asks the cat, who, when it becomes clear Lambert isn't going to continue fighting, lets go of its mouthful and steps daintily over his leg to settle between his knees.

"This is only for tonight," he says, huffing irritably, "and only because you're such a little dick." The cat ignores him, settling down and beginning to purr softly. Lambert pretends that doesn't make his heart swell.

-----

Lambert can't bring himself to disturb the cat when he wakes so he just...lays there and lets the little beast slumber.

He tells himself it's because he doesn't want to be bit again. It has nothing to do with the fact the cat is small and warm, and the weight of it against his shins is comforting.

It's fine until the little creatin begins to chew on his toes.

"I thought you were asleep," he hisses, twitching his ankles to dislodge it. The cat only delights in the movement, pouncing after him. Lambert groans.

"When are you going to get lost?" he asks, hauling himself up and depriving the cat of their game. He's not expecting the small thing to sit back on its haunches and merp softly at him. Slowly, he stills.

"You wanna say that again?" he asks, and the cat meows plaintively. Staring at him like this, he's reminded again of Aiden. The eyes, the color of the fur so close to the deep black of Aiden's own hair, and the jagged, mangled left ear, just like--

Something like ice settles in his veins.

"Aiden?" he asks tentatively, and the cat meows delightedly, striding forward to wind between his legs. Lambert crouches to put himself on level with the cat again.

"Tell me I'm not crazy," he begs. The cat just stares at him before headbutting his knee. Without thinking, he raises a hand, running fingers meant for killing back through silky fur. Beneath his fingertips, the cat kicks up a purr again.

"Fuck, it is you, isn't it?" he asks, scratching gently at the base of the mangled ear just to listen to the way the cat--Aiden, it's Aiden--purrs his pleasure, head tipped into the contact.

"What the fuck am I gonna do with you?" he asks. Aiden, too distracted by Lambert's gentle caress, isn't in the least bit helpful with an answer.

-----

If Aiden is here, there's no point in sticking around camp and waiting any longer, but Lambert still feels off-kilter and he did budget a week's worth of resources for camping, so he’ll just...he'll just give it another day or two. Just until he feels a little less like he's losing his mind.

He feeds the cat the bits of the fresh rabbit he caught the night before for breakfast and the cat does eat that, quietly delighted with its little meal. And now that he knows it's Aiden...

"Do you have any idea how worried I was last year?" he asks, petting down his lanky back and enjoying the way he arches into it, purring again, "I thought...uh," he can't quite say it. The I thought you were dead or the I thought you didn't want me, bit. Both hurt.

"Anyway," he mumbles awkwardly, "how long have you been like this?" Aiden just makes a little chirping sound and headbutts his hand again to get him to pet him. Lambert sighs.

He spends the day charting out a path to the nearest mage who might be willing to help. He's pretty sure that would be Triss where she’s been staying in Ard Carraigh, even though she's more than a two-week ride away. She's helped Lambert in the past, he figures she's probably his best bet now, too.

"What do you think, Aiden?" he asks, but the cat is napping curled up on top of one of his saddlebags and otherwise unhelpful. Lambert is pretty much on his own.

-----

That night is a repeat of the night before, Aiden curled up across his shins and purring sweetly. As he lays staring at the stars and trying to sleep, he can't help but wonder how much of Aiden is...present, for lack of a better term. The cat acts like a cat, except he's eerily like Aiden in appearance and the fact that he's...he's fond of Lambert, apparently. He'd known, immediately, Lambert would care for him. He at least needs to get him turned back, proved that Aiden's instincts there had been right.

He falls asleep worrying about it.

-----

Traveling with Aiden as a cat is...not as simple as it should be.

"If you won't stay in the god damned saddlebag, you at least need to hold still," he hisses wrestling the cat into his lap. Aiden’s been trying to walk the length of his horse as they ride, and the prick of his claws is making Cinnamon nervous. Lambert doesn't want to be thrown from the saddle, so he's got the cat under the arms, holding him to his chest as he wiggles in an attempt to get free. Aiden is clearly not amused by the situation.

"You bastard," Lambert hisses when Aiden takes a chunk out of his arm through the thin cloth of his shirt, unprotected by his bracer or jacket, "Aiden would you, fuck--" the cat yowls and Lambert jerks Cinnamon to a halt. "What?"

Before he can figure out what's wrong, Aiden's lept from his arms, landed gracefully on his feet, and bolted into the trees.

"Aiden, wait! Fuck," he hisses, and the next minute, there's a click of hooves and--

"Having a good morning, Lambs?" Lambert whips around so fast his neck cracks alarmingly.

"Aiden?"

He's astride a horse Lambert doesn't recognize, not Sugar, and he looks...he looks...

"You're not a cat," he says dumbly, and Aiden grins, the bastard.

"No, but it's been very fun watching you the last day or so," and oh, Lambert's going to kill him, actually, "you didn't really think the cat was me, did you?"

"I...it was...fuck," he spits, wheeling Cinnamon to march past Aiden's gelding, now headed in the opposite direction. If the damn man is fine, then he doesn't need to go see Triss and he can head back towards Aedd Gunvael looking for contracts as he'd planned previously.

"Aww Lambs, no need to get embarrassed," Aiden calls, and Lambert can hear the shit-eating grin, "I'm just teasing."

"Fuck off," he growls, but Aiden's horse falls into step beside Cinnamon.

"Oh, don't pout on me, Lambert. I thought it was cute," he says, and Lambert can't bite back the words in his throat any longer.

"I thought you were dead," he spits, "or worse." Disinterested. Abruptly, Aiden leans over and catches Cinnamon's reins, pulling them both to a stop.

"Whoa, wait. You thought...what?"

"I haven't seen you in a year," he bites out, horrified to find his throat thick with tears, "what was I supposed to think?"

"You didn't get my letter?" he asks, and then, before Lambert can process that statement, "fuck, Lambert, I'm so sorry. I thought you knew I was working far south last year, I couldn't...I couldn't ask you to come with me, so I left you a note at that inn we drink at every year. Bastards must have tossed it. Fuck."

"So you didn't..." you didn't abandon me, you aren't tired of me, you haven't moved on to something better. He can't say any of that, just goes quiet.

"I didn't leave you high and dry on purpose, no. Fuck, Lambert, how could I?" he smiles, a small, timid thing, "you're the best part of my year, puppy dog, how could I?"

The sincerity in his gaze and his words makes Lambert's face hot, makes his throat tight. He spurs Cinnamon back into motion, and Aiden's horse follows.

"Whatever, you fucking sap." It's the best he can manage without risking something drastic, like tears or his own dopy smile. Still, he can feel Aiden radiating smug energy behind him again.

"Aww, come on, puppy, I just poured my heart out for you, I deserve better than a whatever."

"You did not," he snaps, "shut up."

"Oh, you need declarations of love then? Fine. I--"

"Aiden," he cuts him off, not willing to find out how far Aiden will take this game of emotional chicken, "stop. I'm...I missed you. You're the best part of my year too." He says it without looking at him, Cinnamon a few crucial paces ahead of Aiden's horse. The back of his neck feels hot and he knows he's blushing.

"O-oh," Aiden stammers out, "uh--"

"There," Lambert cuts in, "now you can shut up."

Gratefully, Aiden does.

-----

Lambert's so relieved about Aiden, he doesn't think about the cat until they stop to camp for the night.

"Do you think the cat's okay?" he asks, and Aiden gives him a long, slow look.

"Why does it matter?"

"Why does it--what the fuck Aiden? It's just a little cat. How's it gonna take care of itself out here? I should have gone after it." He regrets being so wrapped up in Aiden that he'd forgotten the other Aiden, cat Aiden. Not cat Aiden? Fuck, he's tired.

"Cats take care of themselves, Lambs, don't stress about it. He was managing just fine until he found a soft-hearted witcher to feed him, he'll be fine."

"Excuse me, who the fuck do you think is soft-hearted here?" he growls, and Aiden lays his bedroll out beside him and grins.

"Why you, puppy dog. You're the sweetest--" he doesn't let him finish, hooking his foot around Aiden's ankle and bringing him down on top of the bedroll hard.

"Not sweet," he hisses, but it feels like overcompensation even to him, and Aiden just laughs, rolling to stare at him with eyes that are far too fond.

"Sure thing, Lambert."

And if, as they both fall asleep, Lambert shifts closer to throw his arm around Aiden's waist, pull him in closer amidst Aiden's sleepy mumbling, well. It's still cold at night. Nothing more.

-----

There's a slight, warm weight across Lambert's shins when he wakes.

It takes his half-asleep mind a minute to realize what that means, and then he's sitting up so fast Aiden makes a startled noise.

"Lambert, what the fuck," Aiden husks, but Lambert's not listening.

No, he's focused on the cat curled across his shins, jet back with one mangled ear and a white spot on his chest. He peers up at Lambert with those same big green eyes, and something in Lambert's chest shifts.

"Hey there Aiden, thought I lost you," he murmurs, reaching out to pet across the broad side of the little creature. He allows it for a moment before catching Lambert's hand with his paws and biting, just enough for him to feel it. "Yeah, yeah, I deserve that."

"What are you--oh." Aiden comes up short when he sits up and sees the cat again, nestled across Lambert's legs, "well I'll be damned." He reaches out to pet the cat too, who promptly hisses and swats at Aiden, claws extended, "Oi, fuck, rude." Lambert laughs.

"Guess he doesn't like you much, eh?" His chest feels light as he scoops the cat up into his arms. He tolerates it, although he gives a fretful little meow at the treatment.

"You would find the only cat that stands witchers and get it only to like you," Aiden grouses, but he doesn't seem genuinely troubled about it, "I can tell why you thought of me, though. That's sweet." And that--

"Yeah," he says, unable to come up with something suitably snarky and mean. He sets the cat down, who scampers back over to make himself comfortable on Lambert's saddlebag, away from the indignity of surprise cuddles. He's trying not to look at Aiden's own mangled ear, the one cut round in a rough approximation of a human's, a reminder of how he’s been treated in the past. Lambert had been...so fucking worried.

"You can't keep calling him Aiden, though."

"Sure thing," he says, forcing a grin. He has no intentions of calling the cat anything else and he knows Aiden knows, too, can see it in the fond little crinkle around his eyes, the sweet upturn of his lips, "Come on, we've got a camp to pack."

And if Lambert keeps calling the cat Aiden and starts calling witcher Aiden witcher Aiden just to piss him off? Well. How else is he supposed to know he's loved?

#witcher #witcher fic #lambden #laiden #lizard writes #rating: teen

[pot-of-terv]

Disclaimer: This starts soft but very quickly goes to a place I did NOT expect it to go so, just, be prepared. I guess there were some things my muse just couldn’t leave untouched :_D There’s also an additional drawing in there somewhere among the text. The ending is kind of a cliffhanger (dun dun duuun... part three is coming!!) but it’s happy (hurt/comfort y’all, MY BRAND)!

Also I have to say- oh my goodness this ended up having over 2,000 words and I’ve never written a fic this long! This feels pretty amazing but also, very scary, because as you know I’m a Finn so English is not my first language and this far I’ve stuck to just writing itty bitty things. Writing a story with multiple parts is also new to me, so wow, actually, thank you PuzzleJune for making me challenge myself in fresh and exciting ways 🥺

tw: breakdown

PuzzleJune2021, Week Two: Space (Quiet)

It is mesmerising. Intoxicating, even, Atem muses as he reaches up to rub his own sleep-soft face, eyes never leaving the still sleeping figure beside him. He shifts to lay on his side, slowly, with deliberate movements, trying to not disturb the quiet of the early morning.

Watching him sleep like this... I can feel the bed move when he moves and his warmth whenever he's close enough. I never had that before, he thinks and his heart clenches. I have it now.

Yuugi snorts in his sleep and Atem can't help but smile. That boy... no, that young man, has been through so much, too much, and yet he still sleeps so soundly. It's nothing short of incredible and the pharaoh wonders if he's ever met anyone more deserving of respect and admiration. Their journey thus far has only lasted for a couple of years and during that short time, the former spirit of the Millenium Puzzle has had the first-row seat to witnessing Yuugi's strength, his growth - how he slowly but surely had begun to trust himself.

Atem turns his gaze away from Yuugi and mulls over that thought. It hurts him somewhere deep in his core to remember how little worth Yuugi had seen in himself during those first months after Atem's consciousness awakened. He touches his chest where his heart is and leaves his hand there, feeling the slow rhythm beating under his palm.

That feeling of self-doubt could as well be his own, for he did think he was Yuugi for a while back then. It's a troubling realisation and he frowns at the ceiling. Despite not having any memories, how many of those insecurities had been Atem's own that he subconsciously reflected towards Yuugi's heart and by doing so unknowingly meddled with Yuugi's self-image as a whole? Objectively he knows that his emergence helped Yuugi gain confidence even though he didn't remember those first few times Atem took his place, but subjectively...? Atem's brows knit tighter together and he balls the hand that rests on his chest into a fist.

To call these thoughts troubling is an understatement. Suddenly Atem feels uncomfortably restless, he can't keep still, he needs space, he has to move. But moving would mean leaving the warm blankets and the even warmer form next to him and risk waking him in the process.

His chest feels so tight and it aches in a way Atem hasn't felt in millennia and he squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath and with one swift movement pushes the blankets off of himself, sits up and rolls to the side to plant his feet onto the floor. The wood is cool under the bare soles of his feet and that sudden feeling makes him pause for a moment. He releases the breath he was holding.

It's almost funny how he already feels better. He glances over his shoulder to see if he had woken Yuugi up but the other youth seems undisturbed, still fast asleep. Relieved, Atem stands up... and doesn't know what to do. It's still practically night time and the house is silent. Mama Mutou and Grandpa will be getting up in one to two hours and Yuugi much later than that if his previous findings are to be trusted. Normally he would happily snooze the morning away with Yuugi but he doesn't want to go back to bed, the restlessness still buzzing under his skin even though that unpleasant tightness in his chest has ebbed and is now just a nuisance instead of actual, painful anxiety.

He turns around to face the bed so he can take another look at Yuugi, properly. A glance wasn't enough. Will never be enough, he realises all of a sudden. I want to be looking at Yuugi, and only Yuugi, forever. How can his heart feel so big and full but so small at the same time?

Atem is overwhelmed, not yet used to the absolute link between his feelings and his physical senses, and he lifts his hand once more to his chest, almost desperately grasping his shirt and pressing his fist against his heart, to feel the beat of it, and the warmth of his body.

He has this body now and he should be so, so thankful for it, but at this moment he can only feel guilt. He loves Yuugi but has still put him through so much and he knows, oh how he knows, that the trip to Egypt broke him. Atem had felt Yuugi mourn him weeks beforehand, felt his grief he so valiantly tried to conceal - too bad their bond at that point was the strongest it had ever been and Atem knew. It took everything in him to keep on going, to keep on telling himself that this was the right thing to do, this was how he could repay Yuugi's kindness and let him go on with his life, let him be free. He had heard the modern phrase “if you love them let them go”, and wouldn't that have been so grand? To prove his love in such a poetic, profound way?

All that in spite of Yuugi's feelings screaming at him that to be separated was the last thing he wanted.

Atem chuckles, a bitter taste in his mouth. Despite having shared such an extraordinary bond, communication had never been their strongest point, duels usually excluded, and talking about their feelings was not an exception. Still isn’t. They both had just kept on doing what they thought was the best for the other and in the process ended up wounding each other in ways that Atem isn't sure he can ever truly understand. Yesterday he had come down to the kitchen to find Yuugi folding laundry, eyes puffy and red, yet when he talked he sounded so happy. Atem had left it at that because there's nothing he could do when confronted by that smile that can put even the Sun in shade.

Slowly he realises that he's been staring at his partner for such a long time that it must be bordering on creepy. How did he get here from that warmth he first woke up to, from that love he so deeply feels for Yuugi? Why hasn’t he thought about these things before? It's like all he has in his head are questions with no answers to calm his mind. It's only been a week since... since it all should've ended, but didn't, all because of Atem's selfishness. Selfishness... and love. His own heart had broken when his life points counted down to zero and he saw the utter hopelessness he felt surface in his heart reflected right back at him on Yuugi's face. The memory of it is still so strong that he has to grit his teeth together to keep his jaw from trembling.

He hadn’t been able to stand that expression, to stand the knowledge that he was the cause of it. He wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t good enough. The pride he had felt toward Yuugi's skill was completely overshadowed by the grief that hit him in waves, his legs feeling like lead as he slowly walked to Yuugi, his own voice distant to his ears as he offered words of consolation and praise. Empty words, they were, he knew it then and he knows it now. How could he ever leave this person who had gone through so much for him, because of him, who had loved him so fully, who had risked it all to be there for him in his quest to regain his memories even when knowing that the price for that would be too steep to consider if Yuugi ever stopped to do that?

Atem had never wanted to leave. He had learned to live again, to have friends, and grow as a person, no matter how minuscule that growth might have been. Yuugi had been him and then Yuugi had become his world. There's no other way to explain it. As much as Atem had longed for his memories, for those people he loved and lost all those thousands of years ago, he couldn't bear the thought of losing another family. Even when the prize would be to regain his first one. 

But he had to. He had thought he had to.

Yet when he was just about to take the last step, he had faltered. Had wondered - does it have to be this way? What if there's another choice he could make?

And the gods had answered him. He didn't have to beg, he didn't have to fight, he just had to ask.

Just ask.

It had been so simple, in the end, so effortless. Of course, Atem asked for that third choice - or didn't really even ask, he didn't dare, he wished for it, his heart on the verge of breaking a second time. He had been painfully aware of his friends behind him, holding their breaths, waiting for the end. Atem felt their feelings wrap around him like a cloak and he bore the weight of it, accepted it, as he couldn't quite believe that it would be that easy to stay. So he had wished.

And that wish had been granted.

And now he is here.

Standing in the middle of the floor in Yuugi's room while Yuugi sleeps, hands closed into fists, both grasping his shirt now, holding back tears that threaten to spill forth. Wondering why did he even put Yuugi through all that, when in the end, it was for nothing? Oh, he thinks, oh, how it hurts. His own shortcomings, his own pain, the pain that he had caused others. Especially the pain that he had caused Yuugi. He hadn’t deserved it, he never deserved something so cruel and insincere as Atem's decision to leave had been.

A sob wrangles itself up and out of his mouth, he's not able to stop it in time and that breaks his resolve. He sways on his feet as tears force their way out and streak his cheeks, fall into his shirt and seep into the fabric as he hiccups and tries half-heartedly to stop it. He shouldn't be crying, not after everything he’s done. He doesn’t deserve to feel so sorry for himself - he should be the one to take responsibility, to carry that burden without a hitch. But, the thing is… at this moment, he’s no longer the prince-then-pharaoh from 3000 years ago. He’s no longer the amnesiac spirit occupying the Puzzle. He’s not the King of Games.

At this moment, he’s just a 16-year-old boy who is desperately trying to deal with every responsibility he’s imagined are only his to bear and failing spectacularly. So he cries, and cries, and he can no longer see with how blurry his eyes have gone. He prays Yuugi won't wake up to it, he just has to suffer through it and he'll be fine. Crying is fine, actually. He would laugh at himself if he could - aren't tears an actual luxury, after all? He wasn't able to cry his own tears with his own body before, but now he can.

There's a hand on his shoulder and Atem's heart drops into his stomach - oh no, now he's woken up - then another on the other side, then a tug, and Atem follows blindly. He's guided back to the bed and coaxed to sit down where a warm body presses against him and he's enveloped in an embrace.

Atem finds that he can't talk, he tries to draw breath to get the words out but sobs are the only thing he can produce and finally, he hears a voice call his name. It's so soft and warm and loving that Atem somehow feels worse and buries his head into Yuugi’s shoulder, his chest heaving and he almost wails from the struggle of it.

“Shh, other me. Cry it out. It helps. I know.”

He listens to Yuugi and does just that. It’s not easy to give up the reins but with Yuugi by his side, he finds the will to allow himself to succumb. He clutches his partner's shirt, holds him and is held in return, and lets himself cry. Lets his tears come like he's never done before and faced with the force of them, he feels like there's no end to it.

But there is an end. After a period of time that feels like an eternity, his sobs subside, his tears slow down, and he feels like he can finally loosen his hold of Yuugi's shirt to let blood flow into his fingers again. His nose feels snotty and he's sure there's no dry spot left on his partner's clothes and somehow that thought makes him laugh.

“See? All better now,” Yuugi murmurs against his temple and presses his lips there. That sign of affection almost makes Atem's eyes well up but he squeezes them shut, refusing to start crying all over again. He feels drained and empty and he's pretty sure he should be ashamed. He had woken Yuugi up and made him comfort him without asking but all he can feel is gratitude. Gratitude and love and endless adoration.

“Aibou,” he sniffles, voice congested and raw. He means to thank him but his throat closes up, yet Yuugi seems to catch his meaning.

“No need,” the shorter of the two says and Atem can feel his smile against his skin, “it's okay. You're okay, we're okay, everything's okay.”

Atem wants to argue but finds no energy for it. And - as he thinks about it, he realises that Yuugi is right.

They're okay.

He wraps his arms properly around Yuugi and squeezes, sighing softly. His mind is comfortably quiet now and he presses his ear against Yuugi's chest, listening to the beat of his heart (his heart's heart?) and feeling his own fall smoothly into the same rhythm. It's natural, it's right.

“I think,” he manages to croak out, “that we need to talk.”

Yuugi holds him closer and nods before pressing his face into Atem’s hair.

“Yeah,” he replies, sounding relieved, “we sure do, other me.”

#ygo dm #yugioh #puzzleshipping #puzzlespace #puzzlejune2021 #puzzlejune #puzzlequiet #atem #yuugi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #fanart #fanfic #this bad boy can fit so many headcanons and projection in it #i am in the possession of the crybaby beam and i'm not afraid to use it (for real though. my agenda is to Normalize Boys Crying) #(no i will not be taking criticism)

[girlactionfigure]

Ellen Naomi Cohen was born on September 19, 1941.

She was mocked by people who didn’t know her heart, she was teased by supposed friends. Even after her death, the cruel joke was that she choked on a ham sandwich.

All this because of her weight.

The jokes hurt her, as it does many people who are called “fat,” who are ridiculed for the way they look, but she hid her pain well, as do many.

In high school, she adopted the name “Cass,” and, some time later, she would assume the surname “Elliot” in memory of a friend who had died.

According to a 2019 article by writer, Sheila Weller, “Cass—Ellen Naomi Cohen—was a middle-class Jewish girl from Baltimore who left high school six months before graduation to go to New York and try Broadway. She lost the role of Mrs. Marmelstein in ‘I Can Get It For You Wholesale’ to a budding young Jewish singer-actress who did her share to establish the rule that you didn’t have to be classically beautiful to be a star: Barbra Streisand. Cass then got a job as a coat check girl at a Manhattan nightclub, the Bitter End, singing and trying to get random agents’ attention, as she juggled hangers and quarters as tips.”

Cass Elliot had a wonderful, soothing voice, she had a wonderful personality, a beautiful soul, but the story is that initially not even John Phillips wanted her as part of his new group, which would become the Mamas and Papas. According to insiders, Phillips thought she was too fat and didn’t fit the image of the group. It was only when the group realized that she had a beautiful voice which actually made the group better that she was allowed more opportunities to sing.

When she was finally featured, she had to make up a story that she had a terrible voice until a pipe fell on her head, which somehow made her voice better.

Even after that, Elliot’s weight continued to be a source for jokes.

In one of the Mamas and the Papas biggest hits, “Creeque Alley”, Elliot had to join the chorus, singing, “And no one’s getting fat except Mama Cass!”

After she left the group, she tried to get away from the name “Mama” Cass to no avail.

“My mother was The Little Engine That Could,” her daughter Owen Elliot-Kugell told Weller. “Weight shaming was something she dealt with all her life. She was constantly insulted and hurt by people calling or thinking her fat. But she never talked about her pain, and when she performed, she hid that pain. But I know — I could tell—that it bothered her. As a child she was teased as a fatty. Her weight was something she bore the scars of for the rest of her life, be it failed auditions for Broadway shows or lonely nights after The Mamas and The Papas’ performances at Carnegie Hall or the Hollywood Bowl, coming home alone when everyone else had a partner.”

She once said, “I’ve been fat since I was seven and being fat sets you apart.”

“For others, that might have been a handicap but Cass turned it into a strength,” according to The Guardian. “She opened the door for others like Janis Joplin and Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane,” says DJ Annie Nightingale. “I adored her voice, you couldn’t help but like her and she helped establish a genre of independent women.”

“Cass’s impact on 60s teenagers with weight problems was significant,” said The Guardian. Nancy Roberts, founder member of the Spare Tyre Theatre Company, a group inspired by Susie Orbach’s Fat is a Feminist Issue, explains: “She was this wonderful sexy role model and inspiration who made it less of an incriminating burden to be fat.”

“Aside from breaking the weight-shaming stigma and rising as an improbable female icon, Cass was other things young women weren’t allowed to be then but can be now — a proud single-mother-by-choice and a working mother who supported her child alone,” according to Weller.

“At 25, Cass knew she wanted to be a solo mother — a bold choice at the time, even in bohemian circles,” according to NexTribe.

“She wanted me more than anything else in the world — she told people that,” her daughter said.

But, even with all her personal and musical triumphs and outwardly confidence, Elliot constantly felt the brunt of the fat jokes and the pressure to be slim.

“She said she’d never go on stage because Michelle was beautiful and she wasn’t,” says John Phillips, one of the Papas. She was persuaded to change her mind but no one stopped her trying dangerous diets.

Elliot tried desperately to lose weight, once going on a six-month long crash diet, losing 100 of her 300 pounds. This would lead to a stomach ulcer and throat problems, which was treated by drinking milk and cream, leading her to regain much of her weight back.

At age 32, Elliot would die in her sleep. Immediately, there were rumors that she either died because of drugs or that she died while eating a ham sandwich.

Frank Zappa would even reference the sandwich in his song, “We’re Turning Again” with the lyrics, “We can visit Big Mama, we can whap her on the back, while she eats her sandwich!”

As recent as 2007, even Snopes had to post an entry and dispute the ham sandwich myth of her death.

Owen Elliot was seven when her mother died. “It’s been hard for my family with the sandwich rumour,” she says. “One last slap against the fat lady. People seem to think it’s funny. What’s so darn funny?”

According to reports, there was no evidence to support the choking theory. The official autopsy revealed she had little to eat during her final hours. “There was left-sided heart failure,” wrote pathologist Keith Simpson. “She had a heart attack which developed rapidly.”

Heart failure.

Cass Elliot not only had a beautiful voice, but she also had a beautiful heart which few people got to see.

Anthony Kiedis of Red Hot Chili Peppers cited The Mamas & the Papas, and especially Elliot, as an influence, in an interview for Rolling Stone, saying, “There have been times when I’ve been very down and out in my life, and the sound of her voice has sort of given me a reason to want to carry on.”

“She was a one-woman triumph against adversity; she was ahead of her time; women now are finally doing what she did 50 years ago,” says her daughter. “I look back on her and realize that, just by example, she taught me, and others, not to accept it when someone says you can’t do something.”

“I’m proud to be my mother’s daughter,” says Owen. “When I’m having a tough day, for whatever reason, I think of all the ‘you can’t be this; you can’t do thats’ that my mother heard but ignored or conquered. She was a hero to me.”

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

Ellen Naomi Cohen was born in Baltimore, Maryland, on September 19, 1941, the daughter of Bess (née Levine; 1915–1994) and Philip Cohen (died 1962) All four of her grandparents were Russian Jewish immigrants.

[redwinterroses]

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

·

·

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

·

·

·

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

#The only reason I'm even posting this is for my own remembering later #and i guess if fluffy or solar want to see my mindless ramblings -- go nuts #long post #redwinterreacts #redwintertalks #dog at the door

[alderaani]

prison break (echo x reader)

A valentines gift for @just-some-girl-92 as part of the event being run by @starwarsfandomfests! Thanks so much for putting another one of these together @lilhawkeye3, and I really hope you like this Dell! I think credit for white haired Echo goes to @/amiro-art? That was the first place I saw it anyway, and I’ve really liked the headcanon that it’s like that post-techno union ever since!

Based on this prompt: Character A moves in next to Character B. They have conjoined balconies and A's pet/child wanders into B's apartment.

Fives and Echo are both reunited and well in this because everyone gets to be happy on Valentine’s Day and I said so. We don’t need canon on this blog.

The other side of the wall explodes with noise. 

It makes you pause, looking up from the knitting trailing over your knees to cock your head towards the opposite apartment. You think you hear the screech of furniture legs being pushed along the floor, then the frantic rumble of several male voices speaking over the top of each other, the clatter and clang of things as they are removed and replaced.

It’s odd. When Tith-Mar lived next door, you used to hear it every time he coughed, or swore at that awful old holodrama he used to watch every Taungsday. As much as you tried to stop yourself you couldn’t help but get invested, and that was almost worse. Out of pride you never put it on your own unit, but that just meant you ended up half pressed against the wall, eventually not even pretending you weren’t listening to Capula and Mont confess their love. It had given you something to talk about, anyway, when you went onto the balcony to water your plants and he went out there to smoke the fancy deathsticks he joked he’d live and die by.

In the year since the war ended and Tith-Mar was finally able to move back out to be with his daughter on Ryloth you’ve never quite gotten used to the quiet. There was a strange comfort in knowing that there was someone on the other side of the wall. Maybe it came from the three years of water shortages and occasional outages - or, notably, the rampage of the Zillo beast, which hadn’t come quite close enough to flatten you in your sleep, but had downed enough of the power grid that you’d been locked in your apartment for five rotations. You miss the soft Rylothi folk music he used to play in the mornings, and you miss seeing him sometimes, blowing smoke up into the brisk Coruscant mornings with his blue lek, faded now in old age, wrapped around his neck like a scarf.

You just miss the comforting assurance of having someone else there. If it wasn’t for the sound of the door going, and the occasional thump of something being moved, you’d hardly know that you had neighbours at all now. It’s almost funny to think back on the furore it caused when the Republic bought the apartment for GAR resettlement. It led to the only neighbourhood meeting the building has ever had, and you’ve been very glad for that fact after discovering that a solid faction of your fellow citizens are bigots. It’s something you knew, objectively, but witnessing it from the people you personally rub shoulders with was a harder pill to swallow than having to watch some of the anti-clone protests on the holonews. You’ve not tried to remember the more colourful misconceptions about clone troopers aired by prim soft-handed mid-levellers as they sat in a lobby you can remember the Coruscant Guard clearing rubble from with nothing but their hands. However, you do very vividly remember someone from two floors up asking you if you’d ‘really feel safe’ living next to ‘those walking warmongers’, being young and living on your own. You’d shut that down, of course, and the resulting vote had passed in favour.

You’d honestly half expected the troopers to reject the place after that, and you wouldn’t have blamed them either. 

Everyone had known the day they moved in, had pretended not to watch as a GAR issue speeder loaded with two armoured figures and a meagre quantity of possessions had pulled up on the walkway and made their way cautiously inside. You’d thought about introducing yourself, knocking or something, but concluded in the end that they didn’t need anyone else ogling them. You’d figured that there would be plenty of time for that later...and now here you are, a whole year on, and that glimpse is just about the closest you’ve ever gotten to them. You think they still spend a lot of time off-planet, helping with the reconstruction missions the now-voluntary GAR conducts throughout the Mid and Outer Rims. You hadn’t even been sure that they were home at the moment, actually. 

There’s no doubting it now, as the frantic thumps and raised voices continue. Through your balcony door, cracked open to catch some of the soft breeze the weather engineers have scheduled today, you can make out a little of what their voices are saying, one frantic and forceful, the other softer, but no less worried.

“ - kriffing hell, can’t believe we’ve lost...Rex will have our heads…”

“...can’t have gotten far...can’t even walk!”

“ - already checked the fresher, Echo!”

“It can’t hurt to check twice...knew we shouldn’t have…”

You bite your lip, turning round while debating whether you should offer your help. Then you freeze. The baby on the other side of your caf table freezes too, chubby hand poised to grab the cookie you’d been saving for later. They’re standing on legs that wobble a bit, and there’s a glint of steely determination in the dark eyes that fix on your face. 

“Hello,” you say a little weakly, realising very abruptly what the troopers must have lost.

The kid appraises you for a moment longer, brow furrowed and intent. There’s a huge amount of judgement there for such a small face, those focused eyes taking you in for several very long seconds. Then they huff, and very deliberately turn their attention back to the cookie. You smother an incredulous laugh. 

“Not impressed, huh?” You say, carefully setting your knitting aside and uncovering your legs. “Can’t say I blame you, I prefer cookies too.”

The baby doesn’t dignify this with any attention, instead making a soft crowing noise as their little fingers strike victory and retract with the cookie firmly in grasp. When they immediately move to cram it into their mouth you burst into action, leaning across the caf table to swipe it. Just those mere seconds of contact have made it slightly damp. 

The baby’s face scrunches in outrage, and they let go of the table edge, sinking down onto their padded bottom with a sharp, high noise of annoyance. They don’t cry, but the frown is something spectacular.

“Sorry, kid.” You force yourself the rest of the way up, keeping a hold on the cookie with one hand. Can kids this young even eat solid foods yet? Do they have any allergies? You don’t have any siblings, so the last time you were around a baby was when you were one. For all this one’s bravado, they look awfully breakable. “I’ll hang on to this for now, yeah?”

You don’t think that they’re old enough to understand what you’re saying, but the huff the baby lets out feels extremely pointed. You stare down at them on your rug.

“Don’t suppose you could give me any pointers on how to hold you?”

It turns out babies are wriggly. You put the cookie down long enough to hoist the kid into your arms and attempt to manoeuvre their little arms and legs so that they’re not jabbing into your vital organs, but at the sight of the food being placed far away, the kid lets out a piercing noise, right into your ear, and attempts to kamikaze their way back to it. A body that two seconds ago was ramrod solid and deliberately unwieldy is suddenly boneless and impossible to hold onto. Your brain goes empty of everything but wrestling with several pounds of struggling infant. 

You end up on the floor, eventually, but at least both of you are in one piece. You’re breathing heavily. The kid’s face is thunderous. It’s very cute, but you can’t wait to give it back and appreciate that from a distance. Somehow, you manage to settle them onto your hip.

“What the f - heck was that for?” You ask, purely to make yourself feel better. Even if the kid could answer you, you get the feeling they simply wouldn’t. “Was it because I put the biscuit down?”

The kid makes a huffing noise. You roll your eyes, but can’t help smiling. The baby’s dark, just-curling hair is soft against the skin of your upper arm, and their weight is warm and solid against your side. 

“I’m not taking it away from you. I’m gonna let you have it, just need to make sure it’s safe for womp-rats first. And return you before those poor guys tear their place apart, okay?”

You re-collect the cookie and struggle back to your feet, looking towards the open balcony. Visions flash through your mind of the baby pulling that boneless trick out there, with nothing but spacelanes separating them from the ground 50 stories below, and...no. You’re not even vaguely risking that. The front door is definitely the better option, but somehow more daunting, as you stand before the neighbouring apartment with your heart in your throat.

The second you knock, the frantic voices inside cut off abruptly, and then you hear the mad scramble that ensues to reach the door. It wooshes open, and suddenly you’re face to face with your neighbours for the first time. 

They’re less identical than you’d expected. Maybe that’s a stupid thought, but it’s the first one that stumbles, half formed and dazed, into the open void your brain has just become. The second, very unhelpful follow up, is that they’re also much prettier than you’d expected. Not that you’d necessarily expected anything, but - you’ve never seen one of the clones without their helmets before. The Corrie Guard, back during the war, had made a point of never taking them off as far as you’d ever seen. That was apparently a crying shame. One of them has thick, dark curly hair, a tidy goatee, and a tattoo on his forehead. The other’s hair is a sharp, startling white, interrupted by metal nodes of some sort. Some sort of post-war medical adaptation, you assume. He’s slightly leaner all over, his eyes a little larger in his face. But the way both of them sag against the door frame is exactly the same.

“Thank the fucking force,” The dark haired one breathes, clutching at his chest.

The other trooper elbows him sharply in the ribs. “Fives.”

“She’s ten months old, Echo. She’s not gonna repeat it.”

“She just escaped from our apartment after General Skywalker swore up and down she’s not mobile yet. It’s gonna be her first word just to spite us.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself and flush a little when all attention snaps back to you.

“That I can believe,” you force yourself to say. “Hi. I think I found something of yours.”

You hold out your armful of infant and - you presume Fives is his name - reaches out to take her, groaning in relief. 

“Thank you,” he says, fervent, taking a moment to bury his face into the child’s hair. She puts a determined thumb into her mouth and stares at your hand, still clutching the cookie. The trooper turns her in his arms and holds her up at eye level. “You are a menace, Leia. I thought we were gonna have to call in a search.”

It’s nice to have a name for that little displeased face. Leia regards the trooper for a moment before sticking her hand into his face. His eyes are impossibly warm as he pretends to gobble her fingers, and it is, quite frankly, cute as fuck. He turns his attention back to you, but just as he opens his mouth, the sound of a comm going off somewhere behind them cuts through the moment.

“That’ll be the General,” The white-haired trooper laughs. “You better take her and show him, before he raises down half of Coruscant trying to get here.”

Fives nods, flashing another blinding grin at you, before he and Leia are gone. The trooper you’re left with blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. 

“Well,” he says, his mouth crooking into a wry smile. “That was exciting.” 

He sticks his hand out, and when you take it, his palm is rough and his grip firm. You give him your name without thinking about it, staring into the kind, golden depths of his eyes. They crinkle at the corners when he grins. 

“I’m Echo. And - I know Fives already said it, but seriously, thank you. Where the shab did you find her?”

“Trying to steal biscuits from my caf table,” you say, laughing openly when Echo drops his face back into his hand and groans with embarrassment. “I think she got in through the balcony door.”

“Force, we didn’t even think of that. What a first impression, you must think we’re idiots.” 

You shake your head, enamoured by the faint colour you can see rising in his cheeks. He brings his metal hand up to his face and presses the cool prosthetic against his skin. 

“Not at all. You should have seen the look she gave me when I found her, she knows she’s in charge.” 

Echo smiles bashfully. “It’s the first time we’ve ever won the lot to babysit the twins, our Company would have crucified us if we’d lost her.” 

“Then I’m very glad to have provided a rescue.” 

There’s a short silence as you fidget with your sleeves, strange anticipation churning in your gut. There’s no reason to keep standing here now that the pleasantries are done with, the baby exchanged, but...some part of you resists it, almost looking for an excuse to stay. He and Fives are the first new friendly faces you’ve met in a long time, soothing a sting you didn’t know was there.

“I - um -,” Echo begins suddenly, shifting a little. The colour in his face deepens. “I really like your plants. I’ve always meant to say something. We keep trying to guess what they are.” 

“Oh!” Your heart turns over in your chest and you wouldn’t be able to stop the smile bursting onto your face if you tried. Those damn things are so hard to keep alive through the unpredictable engineered weather. You don’t think you’re particularly house proud, but you do preen a little that he’s noticed. “Thank you, I, um, I water them every morning. I could...go through them with you one day? If you like?” 

Echo’s head dips an assent. “I’d really like that.” 

You linger a moment longer, a pleased thrill still lingering in your belly, but there’s no putting it off now. “I suppose I should let you go. But...please knock if you need anything.” 

Echo smiles. “Hopefully not in pursuit of any more babies.” 

You’re just about to turn away when you remember the cookie in your hand, slightly smushed now. “Oh! Can you give this to Leia? I wanted to make sure she could eat them, first, but I promised. Seemed only fair, since she went to all that trouble.” 

Echo huffs, his expression softening, taking the cookie with careful hands. “I’ll make sure her highness gets it.” 

Then you go back to your quiet apartment, somehow deflated when faced with the monotony of your knitting and your music. You hear a few more sounds from the other side of the wall, faint laughter, perhaps a child squealing, and find your curiosity has not been sated at all.

It’s a wonderful surprise, then, when two days later on a clear, sunlit morning, you slide open your balcony door to water the plants and find Echo waiting, his face tipped up to the brightening sky. There is a packet of cookies resting on the duracrete by his feet, and two steaming mugs of caf on the railing by his elbow. 

It feels like something special...It feels like a beginning. 

taglist // @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun @battletales @bad-batch-of-fics @iscream4clones @majorshiraharu @snippytano @missinashkin @808tsuika @eries45 @dom-i-nic // 

#arc trooper echo #echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader #echo x you #arc trooper fives #fives #the clone wars #star wars #the clone wars fic #alderwrites

[flowerflamestars]

okay i’m still obsessed with your idea of nesta and tarquin together!! would you mind giving us a little more on that, like how would they first interact, what would nesta think of him, all of that? thank you so much!!!! 💚💚

I would love to!!!

The important thing to remember about the Tarquin Draft is that is has the same main story as Daylight: Nesta in Day, Nesta the Library, Helion’s grumpy best, best truest friend ride or die companion.

So Nesta doesn’t actually meet Tarquin again until she’s halfway to okay. It’s plotwise timeline closest to where she is in the most recent chapter- feeling at home in her body, really hitting her stride as Librarian, gaining a reputation as just an absolutely formidable force who helps anyone who asks.

There’s been correspondence between the Library and Summer- Nesta, acting as a go-between for Kallias- but remember, no one uses her name. 

So it’s a big surprise when the Librarian arrives in Summer, pulls down her black and gold hood and...there is Feyre Archeron’s face, like a nightmare. Except not- wearier, sharper, older, devastation and salvation like the sunrise after a storm at sea- Nesta, who laughs in Cresseida’s face when the Princess of Adriata calls her a Night Court spy.

Nesta: wouldn’t that require belonging to the Night Court? Try my baby sister, if you’d like to yell about idiotic plans. Where are the books that keep eating people?

Cresseida is so wary, but Nesta, of course, isn’t actually going to leave before handling the cursed trove some Summer sailors pulled from the sea. She’s the Librarian.

Tarquin just...doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want to be proved inexperienced, that he can’t act for his people’s good by a beautiful woman again. But Nesta aggressively wants to help, and ultimately, he lets her.

And Nesta acts nothing like Feyre.

She takes off that cloak of office (listen, I’m picturing like, the coolest wide-legged, sleeveless white linen jumpsuit that has EVER existed, chic but functional), puts on a sunhat that she...magicked into her hand? and stomps into the shallows. Starts pulling sailors souls out of the treasure and hauling them to shore.

It’s terrifyingly efficient. And listen, Tarquin doesn’t give a shit about rank, so he, after some very blushy surprise because no, he did not know he had a competency kink and Nesta Archeron has tiny adorable little freckles on her shoulders- gets in the waves to help.

Nesta doesn’t even look at him.

What she does is save the lives of twelve of his men, pick up the faintly hissing, utterly cursed chest of books that started all this, and ask Cresseida is there’s a room where she can work. 

So they take her to the palace. 

The beautiful ambassadors rooms, windows and silk and the sound of water. 

It becomes clear that the curse is in fact, just a curse, but one that can only be broken under the full moon, which is two weeks away. So Nesta stays, being the only person who can keep that magic from spreading. The only payment she wants is to take the books back when she goes which leaves Tarquin, arms full of the traditional gift of pearls, VERY embarrassed.

But he gets over it. Tarquin is genuinely chill- he has baggage from the weight of his responsibility, of being fooled by the Night Court- but he’s also so, so young. Kind. Curious. He doesn’t want to judge Nesta on the actions of people related to her, and once she proves herself, he doesn’t.

And meanwhile Nesta is like, cool. Cool, cool, cool- I can’t sleep while I’m here, I can’t winnow home and sleep because the Library can’t suppress a curse from hundreds of miles away, I’m not going to steal the books like a fucking thief in the night like Feyre-

So Nesta does a lot of exploring. 

Tarquin comes into the harbor one morning, pink still streaking the sky. He’d been up in predawn doing Manly Boating Things with his navy- he walks through the harbor, lets the sounds his happy people sooth the rush of magic that still surprises him- to shape the sea, to cease the waves, to bend the world, to call the tide- and goes looking for breakfast.

Instead, he finds Nesta.

In line a line waiting for fresh bread and pastries, in another insanely attractive white outfit, looking at the sky. She’s alone- he’d given her guards, servants, knew damn well Cresseida was watching her- holding a basket, drinking coffee with her free hand.

So Tarquin joins her.

It cannot be overstated how genuinely charmed they both are with how normal it is. No death and war between them. No magic drawing them together. No real history- Nesta isn’t Feyre in the slightest- just a man with salt drying in his hair and a beautiful grin, asking if he can buy Nesta breakfast. 

Just Nesta, and the only High Lord she’s ever met besides Helion who isn’t aggressive. As she says, Nesta has as many problems with High Fae men as they tend to her- the siren song of power, challenge called to challenge by her very primordial being.

And listen, Tarquin is a huge, very physical dude. Summer faeries are touchy, in a friendly way. But he also, like Helion, is smart enough to pick up on how screamingly uncomfortable men make Nesta. He doesn’t know why, and noticing it made him feel a little sick- but he’s careful. Kind, funny Tarquin, whose managed in knowing her just a few days to figure out how to approach her without triggering her.

So Nesta says yes. Nesta probably says something snarky as hell about his High Lordly hospitality.

And Tarquin laughs- genuinely, beautiful.

He’s still laughing when they get to humble little window, and Nesta goes still. 

Tarquin clocks it- handles what they’re doing, gets Nesta out of the line of people without unnecessarily touching her. He sort of thinks she’s having a panic attack?- finds a nice quiet bench under a tree. He’s also pretty sure he’s making it worse just by being present, but he’s not going to leave her alone like this- so Tarquin just like, sits on the ground.

Which startles Nesta. She looks up- he doesn’t know her well enough to know what’s going on, so he’s extremely confused when Nesta goes: why is she here?

Tarquin: ???

Nesta: the HUMAN

There’s part of Nesta thinking the worst possible scenarios- what her past and the Night court taught her. 

But Tarquin just like, blinks? Sets down the pastry bag on the bench for Nesta and is says well, she was shipwrecked. A whole passenger ship from the continent last summer- she was going to the North, to start a new business. But she liked it here, and decided to stay. 

Nesta: that human woman, owns a business? Here. 

Tarquin, who’s starting to get what is happening here: Yes. She’s a Summer Court citizen.

Nesta eats a pastry. Nesta, face wry, eventually hands a pastry to Tarquin, who’d seemingly decided she needed them more than he did. Tarquin wolfs it down in three bites, just enough time for Nesta to grumpily confess: I’ve never seen a free human, above the Wall.

Tarquin, haltingly, shyly is like: well, I want it to be different. We all share the same world. Acting like we’re not all the same is how Hybern almost took over- 

By the end of the sentence he’d managed to look up. That was the voice a High Lord, a man who had power and would use it.

So they have this truce, a spark of very real, pretty damned charmed interest. They walk back to the Palace across the whole city, talking.

The next day Nesta is deep in working Librarianing while she’s there- and Tarquin just pops up. Draws as little attention to himself as possible to be like, here. I noticed your hat blew away yesterday? So I brought you a new one. And some coffee. Do you like it cold? Don’t let me get in the way, what you’re doing is important.

What he means by important: incredible. 

It had taken him ages to find her, because Nesta is apparently spending her spare time- does she sleep??- winnowing all over his territory, solving any problems anyone asks of her, bringing books to schools. Talking to regional leaders about what their educational needs are. Chatting with sea monsters so the fishermen understand they’ll be totally safe, so long as they always throw back in that one kind of crab that the baby krackens exclusively eat.

And look, it is a coping strategy. Nesta CANNOT rest by the sound of the sea- but she’d also realized this kingdom her sister had fucked with had been hit so, so hard by Amarantha, and then the war. That she can help, so she will.

But she just kind of stops. Tarquin left as quickly as he came she’s just there like- coffee. hat. BEAUTIFUL RESPECTFUL MAN. It’s not the vibe of her and Helion. It’s flirty but not...pressing? It’s nothing like how any faerie man (see: Cassian) who wanted her has ever, ever treated her and it’s just...so, nice.

He’s nice. Gorgeous. Easy to be around, which Does Not Happen to Nesta ever.

Nesta breaks the curse and leaves. 

Keeps her promise to the schools, visits to sit on the shore and talk to sea monster babies, so much more prodigious now that they have enough food.

Tarquin thinks she’s amazing, and he starts writing to her. For real Lordship reasons, but also just to see what she’ll say- he wants to know how humans live. How his cities could integrate them. Can they use magic? Will they, if it’s available to them?  

Tarquin finds someone- witty, beautiful, so intriguing- who believes in the value of his most difficult dreams. Nesta finds someone who looks at the most fraught, hurt parts of her- humanity lost, a terrible human life, that she still, even now, asks herself sometimes if she can belong, and treats those things as important and integral.

And they fall in love.

It’s a story about a lot of things- Nesta, who drowned to become, learning the whole seas of world will still for her, protect her. Tarquin who does revolutionize his kingdom, and spend centuries counting Nesta’s freckles as they peel and disappear. 

Love of choice. Nesta, in the sun, being adored. Tarquin, who so many people think is foolish, a reckless dreamer, defended by the most loyal person on earth. 

There’s small details i love so much it makes me want to go to the extremely troublesome work of writing them their own story- Nesta inviting the mermaids from the Night Court waters to live in a place no on is afraid of them. Tarquin who is both sort of a golden retriever but ALSO a proud, petty bitch when tried, draping Nesta head to toe in rubies for inter-court events. 

With Tarquin the story really embraces the idea of eternity- of possibility. They’re young, they’re equals in this eternal life. There’s so many years ahead of them, so many things they can do: they have time to go slow, to make changes, to learn each other inside and out as they become the people they want to be.

[thenextchapter22]

PART SIX!!

Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.

In this chapter: You are back at the HOL...

Tags: Unrequited Love, Fluff, Angst, WIP

Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Authors Note: It’s been a month and my hiatus is over now, so please enjoy this next part!! Love you guys so much ~~

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

_+_

Being back in the House of Lamentation was a little strange. After a few extra days at Diavolo’s in that admittedly larger bedroom than yours, Lucifer had taken you back home. He bid you a quick farewell, a single hug and hair ruffling with his smirk, before he said he had duties to attend to. And things seemed back to normal with that. It was a little anticlimactic but…

Home. This was your home. Lord Diavolo gave you, an Angel (and were you still technically one, without your halo? Only wings and some leftover magic?), permission to live in the Devildom. A place for Demons, not… you. He called you ‘family’. Even Barbatos, when leaving the Castle, had smiled at you and given you a happy goodbye and an invite to tea whenever you’d like.

“Your company is always welcome,” the demon butler had said.

You stood just outside your doorway, as if turning the handle would transport you somewhere else. Maybe this was a dream. It was all too surreal to have actually happened.

Once you were inside, barely two steps in the bedroom, an invisible weight lifted off you. This was where you spent your nights, either totally alone and at peace, or with your housemates to keep you company. Studying with Satan or reading a novel and talking about the characters while sitting in your bed, or watching DevilTube with Mammon and laughing at the rom-coms because he was a sucker for those. If Asmo came back late from a party or if he was lonely and needing cuddles, you both would stay up late gossiping about everyone, and you would hear funny stories about Solomon or the brothers. When Levi would come out of his cave, and bring his handheld games, and you would battle each other for hours (you usually won only a few times but it was still fun). Eating midnight snacks you and Beel snuck out from the kitchen, waking up with crumbs in your bed and a different demon boy in your bed, Belphie, who was cuddling you and mumbling in his sleep, warm and soft, like the twins had traded you off.

The only demon brother who never came in your room was Lucifer… That man was always in his own bedroom, up late doing paperwork or wandering around doing things for Diavolo. He overworked himself constantly.

You smiled, recalling the first time you had ventured in his bedroom at night to give him some coffee and poison apples to snack on. He was grateful for it, and he smiled with crinkles in his eyes and warmth radiating from him, and he thanked you. It was one of your best moments here, with him. A small one, but still perfect.

“You’re back!!”

You jumped in surprise as your legs were attacked and you very nearly fell over. Your train of thought vanished immediately. Looking down, then seeing the mop of blonde, you realized it was just Luke.

He was a sweet Angel, still learning and growing, and he had a heart of gold. Sometimes he was a bit sensitive to the demon brothers teasing (mostly Mammon’s). It was funny to watch him get all flustered and red-faced when that happened and insult back to the best he of his abilities.

“Hi Luke,” you greeted, returning his hug. “I’m happy to see you.”

He grinned up at you, head just reaching mid-level, his chin resting on your abdomen. “I missed you. Are you feeling better? Simeon told me everything and I’m so excited to hear you’re an Angel just like us! You have to tell me all about when you lived in the Celestial Realm, please?”

Simeon chuckled from behind Luke, tugging him away gently. “Let’s leave her alone while she gets settled back in, okay? We can visit another time. We came to see Lucifer.”

Luke pouted, but sighed and nodded. He took your hand and squeezed it once. “I want to hear all about it, okay?” he asked with determination.

That was Luke, always adamant and cute. You smiled and ruffled his hair, the youngest Angel huffing. “I promise I will, Luke.”

Simeon waved goodbye, shutting the door behind him, and that left you alone in your little room. You fell onto your bed face first and inhaled deeply, rolling on your side and clutching a pillow to your chest.

Now what would happen? Things seemed to be returning to normal, but would everything?

A knock. “Are you in there Angel girl?” Belphegor’s voice came through the door.

You were a little nervous to see him, but he was the last demon brother you’d thought you’d see first. Seeing as he was usually asleep somewhere.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t only Belphie. It was all of the brothers, minus Lucifer, and they had wide silly smiles on their faces. And then they tackled you in hugs, squeezing you and overwhelming you with their tight holds and back rubs. You just laughed and let them, knowing they probably had been worried about you after all.

“Guys—please, guys stop! I can’t breathe,” you laughed, shoving at the arms and torsos around you. Once you were free, you stepped back and smiled. Seeing all of their happy faces had your insides twisting in joy. “I missed you guys so much, it’s good to see every one of you.”

Mammon spoke first. “Damn right! We’ve been totally freaked out about you. We-well, I-I mean, I haven’t been losing sleep or anything, but they all kept asking Lucifer where you were and when you’re gonna come back. Ch, losers.” His face was flushed when he finished. Why was this white-haired demon so damn cute when he was trying to not care, you would never know the reason.

“I lost no sleep,” Belphie stated.

You chuckled. Typical Belphegor. “Well, I am sorry for worrying everyone…” You frowned, and looked at the floor. There was that inner voice telling you that even if they were all here and hugging you, it was still possible for them to dislike you for lying, hiding this entire time. “But… You don’t… hate me?”

Asmo gasped. “No, dear, we don’t hate you at all! We love you!”

That made you tear up a little bit, and Asmo cooed and hugged you. Mammon grumbled and Asmo gave you one last squeeze then let you go. Your face was a little bit red but only from the embarrassment of nearly crying when being told you were loved.

“How could we hate you? You’re still you,” Beel said.

Satan agreed. “Yes, exactly. Only now you have wings and magic we didn’t know about. You’ll have to show us sometime, I’ve never seen an Angel’s wings in person, only in textbooks. It makes sense why your grades in Celestial History are on par with my own.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, well… only up until a certain point…”

Satan chuckled. “Yes, I suppose that is true. I do want to see your wings, but we were told you’re still healing so there’s no rush.”

“Yes, we want to see them too, darling~”

“The Great Mammon should get first look.”

Waving your hands to calm them down, you nodded and agreed. “Okay, I promise I’ll show you eventually. But like Satan said I do have to take it easy for a while.”

You were planning on going for a midnight fly session tonight, though… But that was a secret that you felt comfortable keeping, like a small white lie. Hopefully no one would find out.

There was one demon who hadn’t said a word, in fact he barely hugged you like the others did. Leviathan. He was quietly standing in the doorway, fidgeting on the balls of his feet, probably waiting for his turn to say something but too shy to speak up.

“Levi? Do you have anything you want to tell me?”

He jumped in surprise, but nodded after a moment. His face flushed and he fumbled with his hands, he usually did that when he didn’t have a phone or device in them. “I-I just want to say… Please don’t ever ever EVER leave us again. I don’t know what I’d do without my midnight gaming buddy. And, well, I just—I love you, okay? You’re my Henry and you aren’t allowed to leave like that!” He was flustered when he finished and avoided eye contact with everyone.

The other boys ‘aw’ed and you smiled in happiness. It was incredible to know that no one hated you for hiding this from them.

“I won’t ever leave you, Levi.”

That was a promise you hoped to keep. These 6 demon boys here were family, your own siblings, and you loved them and all of their weird quirks.

“Hm, I want to ask you something,” Beel’s voice rang out.

Oh no, this was it. The dreaded questioning. They would want to know everything, why you left, where you were, why you lied. And you didn’t know if you had to courage to speak up.

“How did we not remember you?”

Oh thank the Heaven’s. Good kind Beel, nothing bad ever seemed to come from him. Shoving the urge to sigh appreciatively out loud because that would cause actual questions that would be difficult to answer, you instead pondered the question. Would it be against Lucifer’s wishes? He never mentioned keeping it a secret from his brothers.

And so, you told them. About Michael and their memories being tampered with. And they were livid. So livid in fact, they all transformed into their demon forms. And your room was filled with infernal magic and wings and tails flickering. It was intense, but you knew it all came from a place of love. Even Satan, who had yet to be born at the time this happened, was upset, his green tail twisting around. In the tiny space, it was a lot.

Holding up your hand, hoping this calmed them down, you spoke softly, “Please relax everyone. I’m okay now. Simeon and Lucifer helped me. No one can hurt me here.”

“And… you’re staying?” Satan asked.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

They all relaxed, and changed back to their ‘human’ forms. You felt that you could breathe again.

The silence was tense, and you swallowed thickly, trying to think of something to say. Luckily, someone else did.

Asmo clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Let’s have a movie night! Popcorn, blankets, cuddling. It’ll be so fun! It’s the perfect thing to reconnect.”

Good ole’ Asmo, you would kiss him if you didn’t think it would cause a disaster. “Yeah, let’s do it,” you agreed. “But I pick the movie. We’re watching a scary movie.” You wiggled your fingers, chuckling.

Mammon’s face dropped. “Uh, we—we should watch something else, like an Action movie. A superhero movie, those are awesome!”

“Why, are you gonna cry if we watch a horror film?” Satan teased.

“Yeah, poor Mammon’s gonna wet himself,” Belphie joked.

“He probably already has,” Levi chuckled.

Mammon growled, and reached for them with his hands, probably to strangle them, but you stuck out your hand. “Please, no fighting. We can watch a funny movie then.”

Mammon relaxed. “I didn’t care either way!” he declared.

So your bedroom was transformed into a fort of soft pillows, blankets and sheets. Satan used a spell to make the bed larger for everyone and he TV was enlarged, too. Very handy spellcasting. Beel and Levi went to get snacks and drinks, and everyone else got the room set up with pillows for everybody.

After the movie started, and everyone was situated on the huge bed, it was quiet. Everyone was scattered around with their own pillows and you felt surrounded by warmth. This was exactly what you needed, just some time with them, feeling at peace.

But the comfortable quiet did not last long.

From where Mammon was snuggled beside you, he nudged your arm and said, “So… are you gonna tell us about it?”

You blinked. “About what?”

“Your life with the humans. We want to know everything. What it was like, who you met. Oh, did you meet anyone famous?”

Satan sat up straight. “Yes, did you meet any historical figures?”

Everyone seemed to be listening in instead of watching the film now.

You thought it over, and nodded. “Yeah, a few I guess… they were ordinary people to me at the time, though… Just your fellow human helping out other humans. I tended to keep out of any major conflicts so not to affect too much. I guess just part of what I’d been taught growing up in the Celestial Realm: don’t do anything to change the path humanity will take.”

Mammon nodded. “What was one of your favorite memories?”

Wow, that was a hard question to answer. You even said so. “I lived on Earth for a long time... I have a lot of stuff packed in my head,” you chuckled.

“Aw, c’mon, there’s gotta be somethin’ that sticks out,” Mammon said. “You can’t think of one thing?”

“Oooh, what was your favorite style of outfit? Maybe those pretty dresses from the 18th century?” Asmo asked.

“Anything before the invention of the internet has to be the worst,” Levi commented.

Beel, while chewing on some popcorn, said, “The food is always gonna be good, but when the cheeseburger was created was probably my favorite time in history.”

You chuckled at each of their comments. But you did go through your favorite memories, friends’ long past and different towns flashing through your mind’s eye. Overall they were happy memories but in the end, it was always the same endgame. They died, and you moved on.

You must have made some noise or done something because Asmo made a cooing noise at you. “Oh, sweetie.” He immediately pulled you into his arms, tucking you into his neck to pet your hair. A few tear drops fell but you did sob or cry at all.

There were hands rubbing your back and arms, and you looked up to see the brother’s saddened smiling faces.

“We are here for you,” Satan reassured you, stroking his hand up and down your upper arm. His hand was warm and comforting.

Levi sniffled, and squeezed your hand. “Don’t cry anymore, you don’t need to when we can protect you now.”

Beel reached behind himself, and held out a candy bar towards you. “Hey, do you want some of my chocolate? It’s got small crunchy bits in it. And chocolate makes you feel better.” He smiled, and handed you the candy bar. It had a bite out of it, but the thought was nice.

“Thank you, Beel.”

“And here, take my blanket, you look cold.” Belphie put his small throw blanket over your lower half, making his brothers curse when it buried their own arms or hands.

You smiled up at him. “Thanks, Belphie.”

Asmo made a huffing sound. “Well, I want to play with your hair. Can I braid it, please?”

You giggled. “Go ahead, Asmo.”

You let them pamper you up, while the movie played in the background. Eventually the movie ended and Levi set up a racing game, and you all selected your characters and played together. It was a perfect first day back home.

#lucifer x you #reader x lucifer #mc x lucifer #obey me fanfiction #obey me shall we date #obey me shall we date fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me mc #obey me reader #wingfic #my fics #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me belphie #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me barbatos #fanfcition #ao3 link