#it’s natural for people to move on to other things in the time being

[sgiandubh]

The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

#boozewars #business #fandom #shitshow

[inherdaze]

dark red — megumi fushiguro

megumi x f!reader

18+ content, apocalypse au, slow burn, strangers to lovers

12k

summary: megumi finds himself growing closer to you as you both fight to survive in an infected world.

October 30th. 

You eye your floppy, double-paged calendar lovingly as you uncap a marker, drawing a big ‘X’ across the date. 

Your eyes scan over the top page of it. It has some corny close-up stock photo of a bird with the month October printed in big, cursive lettering. It’s the type of calendar that your grandmother would keep in her office, very neutral with nature images. And for some reason, it’s like your comfort object. It made you happy, reminded you of simpler things and simpler times. It reminded you of life before- before the infectious bite.

The bite is deadly. 

Or, beyond deadly, since it doesn’t quite kill you. 

Your brain only rots away and hunger pools at the pit of your stomach, the only thing to sedate it being human flesh. Ah, yes, the infamous zombie bite. 

You and countless others had seen it plenty of times- in movies, in shows, in video games. Even funny little quizzes would pop up on your timeline, Who Would You Be In A Zombie Apocalypse?

Never would you have dreamed of it all coming true. 

When you think about it, it happened so simply, so quickly, that the sequence of events could be plastered onto an elementary foldable. You think that’s what’s probably going to happen, in the future, when humanity re-establishes itself. When.

Not an if, but a when. 

You were one of the few that strongly believed that humans could overcome such devastation and rebuild. Perhaps you could help in creating a better world. 

It happened as such: A disease was created. Created. This fact alone angered the population enough to start riots, protests, petitions. It was the beginning of the end. A disease that was supposedly heavily concealed and secured was created by the government, until all the scientists working on restricting the disease escaped the laboratory, no longer themselves. They’d changed, transformed, and it had only spread like a wildfire from there.

With people constantly out on the streets to protest and express their disbelief and opposition to diseases being formulated in the first place, it was not that difficult for it to spread. And spread it did. 

Humankind really took a hit. There was no organization, no plan, no stability to overcome the outbreak. The government was too busy trying to better their image and hide their mistakes that no one even considered a plan of action to tackle the sickness and the spread. It was literal hell. Infrastructure was being torn down, people were turning against each other, either locking themselves away from everyone else or going out into the world to try to play hero. 

You had a sliver of luck on your side. 

Now, you didn’t make it without pain and hardships, no, the world would simply be going too easy on you. But when you and your college friends decided to scram, to flee in prevention of being cornered, it played out rather nicely. Others had traveled back home, or hid themselves in their dorms, too scared to go out and face the world. Their poor choices usually resulted in them being practically overtaken with zombies, with nowhere else to run. 

You decided to keep it simple. To keep moving. 

Your plan was to move upwards, towards the North. When the disease had initially broken out and there was still debate on whether it was a legitimate issue or not, nobody had really taken it seriously if the government wasn’t taking it seriously. In the early stages, when everyone was wishy-washy and laughing about it on their timelines, an organization in the North was formed and said to have set up a base- just in case. 

It worked out in your favor. Just a little bit. 

You had left with your roommate, Nobara, and her girlfriend Maki. The three of you participated in all the chaos, too- what else could you have done? Law was no longer applicable. The three of you sought out to steal, to take, to do what you needed. You remember it all, the beginning of summer.

You focus back on your calendar. It’s late October now. 

You were also completely alone now. Nobara and Maki had given up their lives when the three of you scrambled around a sporting goods store for weapons and had been targeted by a herd of zombies. Maki was the strongest, so she took it upon herself to fend them off until it became slightly overbearing. Nobara had jumped in to help, the both of them hollering at you to hurry and find a weapon and run. One last look into their eyes was all it took, for they knew the both of them wouldn’t be able to make it out alive. 

You traveled alone, carrying a huge backpack with a bright red wagon trailing behind you at all times. All food, cooking ware, and clothing were stored in the wagon, protected by a tarp and a heap load of bungee cords. The backpack held all the little snacks, medicine, and bottles of hot water. It was never hot by choice. It just never cooled fully after you boiled it to fend away the bacteria. 

In the very back pocket, where a laptop would typically be, was your crumpled calendar. 

Every evening was the same- you had a three-step routine to provide yourself a feeling of stability in the midst of chaos; 1) Hide yourself amongst the trees, 2) Cross off the day in your calendar, 3) Go straight to sleep. It was a routine that had a sense of simplicity and discipline that you so desperately needed. You could not let yourself forget to mark off the days (you’d probably lose your mind from the lack of track of time) and you absolutely could not let yourself stay awake longer than needed. Sometimes, you would explore an unwelcome corner in your mind. A corner that whispered that maybe you’d be better off just dying, at this rate. No more struggles, no more worries, just sleep. Luckily, the sounds of nature and the idea of a better future always pulled you out of that spiral. 

You tuck your marker into your pocket and bring the floppy thing close to yourself before a feeling of embarrassment comes over you, as if someone is watching you from afar. 

With heated cheeks, you scurry to sloppily stuff it back into the back pocket of your pack before curling up against it, pulling your parka tighter against yourself to go to sleep. 

When you woke up, everything was the same. The world was still falling apart, and you were still alone. 

You hauled yourself up and pat at your cheeks- they stung from the oncoming cold. You knew that winter would be difficult to handle- you figured it would probably be much worse than the summer. You’d just have to face it alone, with limited shelter and supplies. 

You pulled on your backpack, tugged at the handle of your wagon, and went on your way. 

You weren’t alone for long. 

You walked at the edges of the forest, smart enough to not make yourself a target in the middle of the road, but you still needed it to guide you. You were well hidden among the trees, but were close enough to peek out between branches and leaves to make out the pattern of the street. 

A loud snap had jolted you awake from your light daydreaming. You immediately stopped walking and slowly reached down to the wagon, trying to pull the tarp away as quietly as possible. 

Your eyes flitted among the scenery, mind on alert as you reached for the only impactful weapon you had- a bat. 

You managed to successfully grab it, and you held it out defensively, waiting for something to come rushing at you. A few minutes pass and nothing happens. 

Knuckles turning white from your grip on the handle, you stepped forward slowly, trying to find the source of the sound. It was a stupid move, you knew, but you also could not keep moving with the knowledge that there was possibly a zombie in the same woods as you. It would probably eat you alive- the idea and the zombie. 

You try not to trek too far from your wagon, and you promise to yourself that after a couple more steps, you’ll turn back around and you’ll act like this never happened to save yourself from panic later. 

Your little plan is interrupted when your eyes make out a figure not too far from yourself. It’s tall, and unnervingly still, with its back facing you. You can’t decipher whether or not it’s a human. 

You squint and make out the movement of clean, steady hands. You see, in one hand, a little radio, crackling and emitting fuzzy noises. The other hand is occupied by something that you cannot make out. It’s at that moment that you know you’re safe- at least you hope so. 

The sight of another human excites you so much, you cannot help the sudden adrenaline that surrounds your heart and the smile that reaches your face as you cheerily (and semi-softly) call out, “Hey!” 

The person whirls around and suddenly your heart drops, the adrenaline mushing into dread, your smile faltering. He faces you with a gun, held up high, level with his eyes in order to aim properly. 

He gives you a once-over before interrogating you. “What do you want?” 

“Oh,” You sputter, limbs feeling heavy with fear. “N-Nothing,” You try, “Just…. just bumped into you here.” 

“Okay,” He starts hesitantly, dark blue eyes showing you distrust. “Run off, then.” 

Your heart drops even harder, this time. To think that he doesn’t want anything to do with you, that he doesn’t even want to talk, to meet another human. You assume he’s alone, too, since he’s got a backpack that looks much heavier than your own right on his back, straps tight. 

It’s not that you necessarily expect anything from him- it’s just that this is a rare moment. You haven’t spoken to another person in months. 

The crackling of the radio fills in the quiet between the two of you before he pulls you from your thoughts, “We can part ways, now.” 

His voice is only slightly condescending, and he talks as if it’s an obvious fact. 

“Wait,” You lazily blurt, hand reaching out just a little as if he had offered something for you to hold onto. “Don’t you want to be friends?”

He scoffs at you, embarrassing you. “Friends?”

“W-well, not friends,” You struggle, ears and neck heating up, “Just, yunno, partners or- yunno?” 

“No.” 

His blatant answer makes you wince. As much as he makes you feel small, a sliver of desperation shines through your timid form and you try again. “You know what I mean,” You breath out exasperatedly, “There’s nearly no one else left in the world. Might as well work together. We can take turns patrolling and sleeping, and especially when it comes to gathering supplies- like the buddy system, kinda- and things will run smoother. We can put what we have together.” 

He knew you were right. He hated that he knew you were right.

Truthfully, Megumi had no intentions to create bonds and team up with people. He thought it would only slow him down, both physically and mentally- he went out of his way to avoid attachment. 

He responds with silence, so you give it another shot. 

“I’m moving North, too… if that’s… if that’s what you plan to do as well.” 

It catches him, and you knew you had won him over. And he knew, that you knew, that you had convinced him enough. The way that he had faltered and his stern expression melted into one of surprise told you all that you needed to know. 

You gave him a little smile to soften the blow of his loss. 

“Fine,” He says through gritted teeth, letting his arm fall to his side in defeat. He sees you keep your eyes trained on the gun, so he tucks it away in an attempt to ease your nerves. 

You tell him about your supply wagon and let him know he can probably lighten the load on his back by mixing his supplies with yours. While you lead him back down the path where you had abandoned your precious wagon, you try to get him to converse with you. His silent nature made you a little nervous, but you were deeply in need of human connection. 

“Oh! By the way, my name-” 

“No.”

You cough and look up at him, shock written across your features. “Huh?”

“We shouldn’t do that. Exchange names, I mean. It’s just the two of us, we’ll be fine without it.” 

“Huh?” You call out again, this time louder and with more confusion. He shoots you a glare that tells you to shut up. 

“But- why not? What am I supposed to call you?” 

“I already said, it’s just the two of us. Who else could you be addressing? Exchanging names makes us friends. We are, by no means, friends.”

You watch him speak with an unbothered tone, eyes not even meeting yours as he empties half of his supplies into the wagon. Your mouth is slightly agape and you falter to respond, but as he swings his backpack around, a flash of black and white catches your attention. 

“Are those…” You trail off before he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“Are those plushies?”

You see him freeze, and his pale skin blossoms with color. “No.”

“Oh, come on,” You huff out playfully, almost circling him to get a better look at the little fluffy keychains that hang clustered together at the zipper of his backpack. Two tiny but puffy little dogs of opposite colors stare right back at you, felt tongues poking out and all. 

“Huh. Didn’t peg you as a dog boy. Or an anyone boy, for that matter.”

“Are you done? We need to keep moving.”

“Alright, alright,” You huff, reaching for the handle of the wagon. He takes hold of it before you get the chance and starts walking, and you feel your heart smile at his silent offer to pull it for you. You didn’t think there was a deeper meaning to it, you were just happy that you didn't have to haul that heavy thing around for once. “No need to be snappy, Dog Boy.” 

He only groans in response. 

The rest of the day flies by in silence. You try your luck a few times to start a conversation, to pull anything out of him, but he’s so damn stubborn, either keeping his eyes  focused on the path ahead or fiddling with his radio. The radio gives him an excuse to tell you to shut up, since he needs to hear if there are any broadcasts or incoming news- signs of life. 

He finally speaks up when he claims it’s time to sleep. 

The two of you settle against a cluster of tree trunks, and you repeat the same thing you’ve been doing for months on end- laying against your backpack, looking at your calendar with a glint of hope and desperation in your eyes. 

Megumi watches as you pull and flatten it out before rummaging around for your marker. He narrows his eyes and tries to focus on the clunky piece of paper you seem to be carrying around. 

He makes out the rows and columns of dates, an unimpressed look dawning on his face. “Don’t tell me…”

“Hm?” You hum lightly, beckoning him to continue. 

“Don’t tell me you carry that thing around and actually use it.” 

“What else can I say? We’ll need it, in the future. Once everything starts going back to normal, people are gonna be like, ‘Oh no! What day is it? What season are we going into? Must we start a new calendar?’ And then, I’ll have my trusty calendar right here, with all the dates crossed off. Think about it. Very important.” 

He remains quiet as you make big ‘X’ on the final date, October 31st. 

“Hm. We met on Halloween. Funny, isn’t it? I think it suits you a little.”

He disregards your last comment and speaks with a monotone voice, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Humanity will never recover- that thing’s useless. Just taking up space.” 

You fall quiet after that. Normally, you think, you wouldn’t be too iffed by some pessimism. But his comment regarding your calendar and how easily he dismissed your hopes had hurt, just a little. 

Maybe more than a little. 

You instinctively held the thing a little closer to you, as if to protect it. You avoid his eyes and silently decide that the conversation should probably end there. 

He sees you shift a little farther away from him, bringing the stupid thing closer to your chest. He can’t find it in himself to care. 

You admire that cheesy stock photo on the top of the calendar before flipping the bottom page to sneak at a glance for the photo for November. It’s a scene of a pathway formed by trees, nearly dead trees, with the leaves caught mid-fall, yellows and oranges everywhere. November is, again, printed in large cursive at the top of the page. 

You fold it back up and jam it into your backpack before pulling it down closer to your head, to use it as a pillow. You wrap yourself up in your parka and turn to sleep on your side, back facing Megumi. He sees it all from the corner of his eye and scoffs to himself, remarking how childish you are. 

Steady hands lay his gun next to him, close to his head- just in case he ever needs it throughout the night. He sleeps firm on his back, but he turns his head to look at you just before he dozes off. 

Bathing becomes much easier, now that Megumi’s around. 

Before the two of you crossed paths, you would rid yourself of your clothes shakily, always leaving them on the rocks that kissed the lake. You couldn’t even clean yourself off properly, eyes always on the lookout for movement or an undead form to creep up on you. 

You had begged him. Shamelessly. The whole morning consisted of you yapping away, Please, Dog Boy, there’s a perfectly good lake right there, and a rock for you to sit on while you wait and patrol. I’ll patrol after. I really, really need this bath. 

He wouldn’t even look at you as he gave you a hard No.

Megumi was beyond dead set on moving forward. Over the last few days, he was always quick to shut you down and occasionally scold you for being so easily distracted and perhaps a little too light-hearted for your own good.

But this was your last straw. 

He only caved in when you threatened to wipe some of your sweat off on him. You had never seen him recoil from something so fast. 

After making him literally swear to not turn around and peek while you were bathing- to which he had rolled his eyes and told you he wouldn’t even dare to consider such a thing- you pointed to the rock for him to sit on before you began to strip. Megumi could only hear the light splashes of you walking into the water and your little cries of Oh my god, it’s so fucking cold. 

You gladly took advantage of such a moment. Finally, you had got to scrub every corner of your skin, finally got to really wash at your scalp, all without looking around in fear of what’s out there. 

And maybe you were taking a little too long, because after a while, Megumi coughed out to remind you that he was still there. His back was starting to hurt from sitting on the rock for so long without proper support. 

“How much longer are you going to take?” 

“Not too much longer,” You sing-songed, clumsily trying to dip your head in the water to wash out your hair. 

He rolled his eyes to himself at the tone of your voice. You were much too playful for his liking. 

“Don’t worry, Doggy,” You teased, though your voice was slightly muffled from your awkward position in the water. “You can bathe after this. Although, you might smell worse after- like wet dog.” 

He could hear you laughing to yourself like a child.

Megumi never responded to your little lighthearted jabs. 

Life goes on as it always has. With Megumi so quiet, sometimes you ponder if you had been better off just walking away from him that day. And, if he wasn’t quiet, he was always on your back about something.

(“Why’s this water so warm?” 

“I boiled it. It’s from the lake. We can’t get sick, you know.” 

“You poured hot water into an insulated water bottle?” 

“My God, just- just drink the damn water, Doggy. Or don’t, not like I care. More for me.”

“Shut up. I’ll drink it.”)

The two of you were nearly on opposite ends of the spectrum, personality wise. You two would’ve probably clashed if you hadn’t taken things in such a jovial manner. He even started calling you Sunshine mockingly, as if to belittle you for being so stupidly bright and optimistic when the world was reaching its end. 

The first time he called you that, you had actually smiled. He had to refrain from reprimanding you for being so… so...happy-go-lucky. 

He couldn’t pinpoint as to why your preppy nature had irritated him so much, but his epiphany reached him one night when the two of you settled against a group of tree trunks, like you always did. 

You were, as always, cuddled up with your little calendar. Megumi discreetly watched as you marked off the day, taking note of how you had to redraw the ‘X’ a few times. Your marker was drying out. 

You were well into November, and you scanned over the rows of dates, spotting the box marked Thanksgiving. With your tongue slightly poking out, you poorly drew a little turkey inside the box. 

He watched as you scanned over the top and bottom page again, but he felt like your mind was elsewhere. 

“When’s your birthday?” 

Your question caught him off guard, and he flustered as he quickly looked away, fearing that you had seen him watching. 

“What?” 

“Your birthday. When’s your birthday?” 

He cast you an awkward sort of look. “December 22nd.” 

“Cool,” You replied almost automatically before flipping the page of your calendar. Megumi’s eyes only slightly widened as he witnessed you try to cram the words Dog Boy Birthday in the little box marked with 22. He was unsure if he was meant to see that. He didn’t want to embarrass you by mentioning it, but he felt like it shouldn’t go unmentioned, either. 

“You don’t need to do that.” 

“Why not?” You were being genuine. 

“Because,” He said without knowing what it was he wanted to say. “Because. It’s pointless.” 

“Pointless this, pointless that.” 

Your comeback wasn’t all that great, but you had brushed off his statement so easily- you had seemed to have grown accustomed to his little remarks, especially the ones with negative tones behind it. 

That’s when his revelation crashed over him. It hit him so strongly, and he was frozen in place as you mumbled a goodnight before cuddling up to your clunky backpack. 

You were so precious. Because despite all your banter, you were always playful about it, and when you weren’t being playful, you were being genuine. You always openly offered him things, the fair share of your supplies, always told him to get some sleep while you keep watch, always told him to eat up, have the last of your water bottles, always looked out for him in little ways that he did not bother to return. And, what irritated him so much about it was that you were so vulnerable, open, shamelessly smiling and laughing alone or at him, trying to get him to laugh too. And he hated how you had done all this, offered so much to him, remained open to him, only for him to constantly chastise you and feed you despairing comments. 

He wanted you to put up more of a fight. He wanted you to be able to be okay, without him. Megumi criticized himself after having that thought. He knew that your nature didn’t equate to weakness, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off a little…. 

You were so easy to trust him. At any moment could you have given up something to him and he could’ve just ran off with it, leaving you empty handed and destined to literally die. He thought that if something were to ever happen to him, and you kept going on with your open, kittenish self, that someone would come along and take everything you ever knew and had. 

Thinking of it made his chest pinch. He felt guilty for criticizing your calendar, the symbolization of all your hopes, on the day that you met. If he hadn’t realized this all now, he may have become the one to take all that you knew and had, figuratively. The way that he had belittled your dreams for the future had already spoken for itself. 

He laid down to finally sleep after swallowing down his thoughts, and he turned to look at your sleeping form, wantonly. He wanted to be better to you.

Suddenly, he thinks about how weird he looks, watching you sleep. His ears flush red and he turns to sleep on his side, back facing you, as if he needs to cover his tracks from the peering trees. 

You’re woken up by a string of broken, awkward groans. 

You assume it’s Megumi. Your eyes are crusted with sleep, so you don’t even bother to flash him a teasing look as you lightly jab, “Hush, Doggy.” 

He doesn’t respond with his usual sneer or command to shut the hell up, but with an even louder, pained groan. 

You sigh to yourself. He’s probably having a nightmare. You feel generous enough to break him from his terrors and lazily sit up, roughly rubbing away at your eyes and reaching over to him. 

Your hands meet a still, soft and sleeping form, completely at peace. 

You do a double-take when the feeling of his form contradicts the pained sounds he’s making and suddenly, you’re up and wide awake, especially when you come to realize that the groans are not coming from him. 

Whirling around to find the source, you come to see a beat-down zombie, tumbling its way towards you both. It’s missing a leg and its steps are off-kilter, slow, and if you had it in you to laugh at it, you’d probably laugh. 

“Holy shit,” You whisper to yourself, body stilling out of fear. For a few seconds, you can’t bring yourself to do anything, and the creature crawls closer, despite it being so slow. 

You finally come to your senses and weakly shake Megumi to wake him up. 

He’s knocked out cold. You figure that it’s from exhaustion- the both of you had been taking a beating from your recent drop in supplies. The last thing the two of you ate was a granola bar for yesterday’s breakfast. It wasn’t even a whole granola bar- Megumi split it in half for the both of you. You had let him have the last drop of hot water, too. The both of you were running on empty.

You trip over yourself and hastily pull on your backpack, still focusing on getting Megumi to awake. 

“Dog Boy,” You whisper-yell, lightly kicking at his leg. It’s ridiculous, you think. All of this is ridiculous. You have only a sliver of time to spare, thanks to the zombie moving at the speed of molasses, so you settle yourself behind Megumi and wrap your arm across his torso, beneath his own arms, your grip on him loose as you drag his body further away. Your main priority now is getting away, creating distance between you and the undead figure. As you tug on him, his gun slips out into the sunlight and you gasp, using your other hand to grab at it shakily. 

You had no idea how to use it. 

You hold it up to the sun and try to look for the little safety knob that you often heard that guns have. You spotted it, but you couldn’t tell if it was on or not. 

You’re sloppily scooting back, heaving Megumi with you, nearly falling backwards from the weight of your backpack. If you’re being honest, the two of you hadn’t even gotten that far. With Megumi attached to his backpack, he was heavy, and with your newfound weakness from exhaustion, the two of you probably only moved five inches max. 

The creature looms closer, and on second thought, maybe using the gun isn’t that smart of an idea. It would be noisy, easily giving away your location and the two of you would instantly become magnets, become bait. You wouldn’t be able to drag Megumi away fast enough to save yourselves. 

You eye around for your bat but it’s much too far. It’s tucked away under the tarp on your wagon and the zombie is already too close, surpassing the wagon- there’s no way you could get it without actually surviving.

Tears prick at your eyes. No, you think, now’s not the time. Your hands are shaking- you’ve never been this close to a zombie before- and you’re thinking fuck it, your arm letting Megumi go to steady your grip on the gun. 

Megumi drops down on the ground with a thud as you release him, but you don’t have the time to fret over it and ask if he’s okay. You think your ears are playing tricks on you when you hear a groan that’s a little too close. 

You wrap your hands around the base and stupidly close your eyes as your finger lands on the trigger. 

Everything after happens too fast for you to register, almost like a dream. You feel cold hands wrap around your own and tear the weapon away from you, and then a few loud bangs go off, and then it’s quiet. 

“Christ,” He mutters, voice caked from sleep. His eyes are droopy, and he looks so jaded, you’re preparing for him to chew you out about how stupid you were being before offering a list of what you could’ve done better. 

But he only slumps from fatigue, closer to you, nearly into you. He’s the weakest you’ve ever seen him, but guilt nips at the edges of his heart for making you go through such a thing. 

“Are you okay?” He finally breathes out, lifting his head to meet your eyes. 

You’re taken back at the sudden display of concern. 

He sees your face flash with unfamiliarity as a response to his question. The guilt makes its way past the edges and into the depths of his heart, now. He hopes it’s not too late. He hopes that he hasn't already become that person for you, the one that takes everything you know. 

“Yeah,” You say quietly from the shock of it all. 

Megumi falls silent after that, tired.

A few beats pass and he speaks, “We need to keep moving,” He says weakly, convincing himself more than you. 

“Yeah.” 

Lethargy is a plague between the both of you. 

Megumi tells you that you both need to find a store, and fast. He pulls out a map from one of his backpack pockets, and it’s so torn and dampened with water and other questionable substances that you can barely even make out the lines. 

But he reads it like a pro. He misses the look of admiration in your eyes when he finally concludes that it would be smarter to move in closer towards the suburban area. He says there’s a higher chance of strip malls and markets to sneak around and take from. You trust his word. 

The trek there is nearly torturous.

It’s getting colder, and you try not to think about how the two of you will survive when winter hits. Your feet ache and ache, and you’re sure that you’re slowing Megumi down- you swear you see him slow down his steps just the slightest. You have to refrain from complaining like a small child, asking over and over Are we there yet?

You finally reach a parking lot, and you think you could nearly drop down to your knees and kiss the gravel.

Your sense of euphoria is interrupted as a horrible stench reaches your nose. It’s unmistakable; it makes you double over and slap a hand over your nose and mouth, coughing roughly as you feel a series of gags coming on. 

Dead bodies were sporadically laying across the parking lot, some human, some zombie. Megumi looks at you pitifully, then looks away as you live through your coughing fit, not wanting you to feel worse about being seen in such a state. 

“‘So bad,” You finally manage to wheeze out, cueing him to look at you. 

He reaches into the wagon, towards the end of it, where the clothing was stored all lumpy. He had to slowly pull out whatever it was he was looking for so that nothing else spilled out, and he tugged one end of it slowly, revealing it to you. 

A big, lumpy scarf that has the most terrible pink camouflage print all across it. It’s horrendous, really. You remember you had stuffed it into your wagon a few months back, thinking about how you’d probably need it later. 

Now was later. 

He steps closer to you, close enough that it’s distracting and you nearly freak out at the proximity. He sees your confusion spark across your face and he hushes you before you even start. “To help with the smell.” 

That’s all he says as he reaches behind you, gently wrapping the scarf across your head, leaving you enough room to breathe but making it secure enough so that the scent is muffled. 

“‘M so tired, Doggy.” Your voice was stifled by the heavy fabric. 

“I know,” He says, and he does. 

You then feel bad for voicing your little complaint. Megumi was just as tired as you were, perhaps even more, and he hadn’t complained once, nor did he scold you for being a crybaby like you thought he would. 

Once he saw that you were satisfied with the scarf and concluded that you wouldn’t bend over and gag again, he smoothed his hand over his jacket awkwardly. “I’m gonna go inside and find more stuff. Are you okay with me taking your wagon and your pack?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Megumi has to lean in closer to hear your voice. “I understand if you don’t want to trust me with all your things.” “Our things,” you enunciate. 

“It’s-” He starts, then pauses abruptly. He doesn’t want to keep creating a divide between the two of you. “Yeah. Ours,” He affirms, searching your eyes for a reaction. He can tell you’re smiling stupidly (cutely) behind the scarf. 

“You’re sure?”

“More than anything.” 

He thinks, for a second, that your answer means something more. But you play it off, immediately taking off your backpack, so he chastises his previous thought as he takes your nearly empty pack into his hands. “Are you gonna stay out here?”

“Mhm. I’ll try ‘n find a place to sit.” 

“Okay. I won’t take long, I promise.” 

“Thank you.” 

He turns on his heel and walks in a straight line towards the entrance of the store, where you can make out the broken and crooked sliding doors that had probably been jammed so many times before they gave in. 

You take note of how many vehicles have been haphazardly left behind in the parking lot, mostly likely during moments of panic. 

If only... 

You begin to search the parking lot, bending down to get a clearer sight of all the miscellaneous objects scattered across the ground. Something glints in the corner of your eye, and you perk up, rushing towards it before scooping it up in your hand. 

It’s a clunky, round keychain that says Dog Dads Are The, and right below the text is an image of a dog taking a dump. 

“Huh,” You huff out with a little smile, “Perfect.” 

You take hold of the set of keys that are strung along the ring and single one out- vehicle keys. They’re the type of keys that you have to manually insert into the lock in order to actually open the car door. 

As soon as you stand up straight, you search for the oldest looking car throughout the entire parking lot. Your eyes fall upon a truck that looks like it’s been to hell and back, little scratches and scuff marks lining the sides with splotches of blood on the doors. You note that it only has two doors- the two of you will really have to squeeze in. 

If you ignore the poetic spots of blood, it's one solid color- a color that resembles dirt, you think. It looks like a little old farm truck, with crates stacked in the bed, and there’s a little figure of a cow swinging from the rear view mirror. 

You try your luck and insert the key, to which it fits. Your heart has never fluttered so viciously before. 

Turning the key, you see the little button on the inside of the door pop up. The door swings open ungraciously, a creaky sound ringing out. It makes you freeze, looking around to see if you had alerted anything that could be lurking. 

You decide to hold off until Megumi comes back. It’s completely dead quiet, and he might freak out inside the store at the sound of an engine. 

Just as he promised, he didn’t take long. He steps out to see you sitting in the truck with the door open, your knees brought close to your chest, and although the both of you are incredibly grimey, spent and hanging on to your final threads, you look so peaceful curled up like that. He thinks that maybe he would’ve liked to see you like that, under better circumstances. 

“Sunshine,” He starts as he gets closer, and you open your eyes and unravel from your coiled position. 

Megumi shuffles towards the bed of the truck and starts unpacking the wagon into the back. “Got some food,” he offers, unloading a loaf of bread that has yet to go stale. You hold it like it’s precious, waiting for him to unpack everything into your new truck. 

“Does it have gas?” 

“Dunno,” You say tiredly, and hopelessness sneaks up on you again. Perhaps you had put too many eggs in one basket. 

“Move over.” 

You scoot to the opposite side of the seat to make room for him. He plops down in the driver's seat and you perk up to hand him the keys, “Look, look.” Untangling all the keys from each other, you proudly hold up the keychain to his face. He furrows his eyebrows at first, but then his face melts into an amused expression as he reads over the whole thing and gets the joke. 

“Very funny.” He rolls his eyes, but you know he’s being lighthearted. 

He takes the key and inserts it, holding his breath in hopes that it’ll work, that the heavens are on your side today. 

They seemed to be, since after a few turns, the engine sputtered and coughed, and soon enough, it was settled. Megumi checks the gas level and nods approvingly to himself. He explains that it’s enough to get you a bit farther, but it’d be smart to keep an eye out for gas stations, or, better yet, other vehicles. 

You unwrap your scarf from around yourself and begin to unveil the loaf of bread as well, breaking the fluffy food in half to share. The two of you eat in silence, save for the low humming of the engine. You’re too tired to talk.  

Through the window, you see that it’s getting darker, and you remember your calendar. As you shuffle around to pull it out, Megumi seems to remember something as well, as he takes his bag into his lap and unzips one of the front, small pockets. 

You don’t notice his hesitation as you bring out the floppy thing and lay it on the dashboard, smoothing all the wrinkles away. 

He stares into his backpack pocket. He knows it’s okay to be vulnerable with you. He wants to be vulnerable with you. Embarrassment rushes up his neck and to his ears, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy shaking your old marker to force some ink to come out. 

“Here,” He breaks the silence, voice cracking from the lack of use. “Here’s…. I figured you might need it, I…” Megumi shuts himself up as he sloppily tosses you a pack of permanent markers. 

The way your face lights up makes it all worth it. He thinks he could face this type of embarrassing feeling every day if it makes you this happy. 

“D’awwwww,” You coo, poking fun at him. You’re as jovial as always, eyes bright as you uncap one of the markers and mark the day off, marveling at how smoothly the marker glides. 

He speaks up before he can stop himself. “I’m sorry.”

You pause and look back at him, the look on your face encouraging him to go on. 

“I mean, I’m sorry for… what I said on the day we met. About your calendar.” 

Your demeanor lightens again. 

“Ah, that- don’t worry, Doggy. I don’t even think about that, barely even remember it. It’s okay. You’re good.” 

He knows you’re being genuine, and that you really do forgive him. He sees it in the way you brush it off, going back to your markers and looking at them like they’re made out of gold. He feels something in his chest lighten, like the guilt from that night had been weighing him down this entire time. 

Once the both of you finish your chunks of bread, and after you tuck your calendar away, you curl up on opposite sides of the seat and sleep the most comfortable you have in ages. 

Everything’s a breeze now that the two of you have the truck. 

It’s easier to fend off the cold, and the both of you have more energy since you don’t have to walk anywhere. The days seem to fly by faster, and with each passing day, you see Megumi opening up to you a little more. He’s not as harsh as he used to be, and even when he does mock you, it’s playful and light. There’s no more malice laced in his tone. 

He’s softer now, cares more now. He accepts your invitations and attempts at making it concrete that it’s the both of you, together, as survival partners or whatever he likes to call it. Your stomach feels warm whenever he agrees or accepts your little comments about things being ‘ours’, referring to you as ‘us’ and ‘we’ rather than correcting you to ‘I’ like he used to. 

It’s not enough for you, though. You can’t help but want a little more. You’re thankful that the two of you greet December, because a) you’re grateful to have even survived this long, and b) it’s much colder now, so he doesn’t question you that much when you coyly try to cozy up to him before bed, complaining about how you’re freezing and that you’ll die of frostbite. 

He sees through your little act. He never mentions it, but he does. Megumi’s more than happy to let you have your fun. 

Megumi’s usually the one who sneaks out into stores to refill your load of supplies, and you stay cozied in the truck. He says it’s because at any moment, if any one of you are away from the vehicle, someone just like you could easily take it. His statement is true, but he doesn’t mention his second, secret little reason- he likes to know that you’re safe and warm in there. 

 One day, though, you try to kiss up to him so that he’ll let you loot with him. 

The morning starts off with you feeding him little compliments that are definitely out of pocket. 

“Your hair looks rather nice today, Dog Boy.” 

“Oh….yours, too.” 

“Mhm. And that jacket you stole fits you well, I think. Really, uh, matches your vibe.” 

“Yep.” 

“Yeah. Your scarf looks real… real snazzy, too.”

That pulls a laugh out of him- he had been borrowing your pink camouflage scarf. He knew something was up, and you knew he did. You just wanted to get on his good side, at least for today. 

“What is it that you want, Sunshine?”

“I wanna help you today, when you go fetch supplies.” 

He’s driving, but you think that if he was doing anything else, he’d stop his movements. He recovers as fast as he had reacted and clears his throat. “Why?” 

“I need some stuff.” 

“Stuff.” 

“Yeah.” You hope he doesn’t ask for elaboration. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

You let out a groan and let your head rest against the window, putting on a dramatic little show so that maybe he’ll cave. 

He doesn’t seem to be caving in any time soon, and from afar, you can see the parking lot. You’re eyeing him nervously, unsure if you should bring it up or not, but you make the first move when you hold onto the door handle as if you’re preparing to get out once he parks. 

He’s hesitant, takes his time to park and drives through the lot as if every space was taken. He could’ve taken up three spaces, if he wanted. 

“Doggy. Stop stalling.” “I just think you’d be safer if you stayed here.” 

“I’ll be fast. I’ll get what I need and then come right back.” 

That seems to ease his nerves, so he silently agrees and parks perfectly between the two lines before shutting the truck off. 

You walk together to the entrance of the store, but as soon as you make it inside, he laughs to himself when you make a beeline to the sweets aisle. He couldn’t believe that you made such a fuss to join along just to get some of those mini cakes. 

  You stay true to your word and gather what you need before making your way back to the truck, keeping an eye out for Megumi. You hope he doesn’t see the small chocolate muffin that you’ve stuffed close to your chest in a weak attempt to hide it. He’d probably make fun of you. 

When everything’s done and he meets you back at the truck, he’s slightly surprised to see that you hadn’t eaten your little sweet during ‘dinner’. He doesn’t have the energy to confront you about it. 

Today’s the day, you think. 

It’s difficult and very painful to conceal your excitement for all the hours that you spend at Megumi’s side. You try to calm your nerves by making lots of conversation with him, now that he’s more responsive. At first, you were the one to talk about your family, your old friends, how you grew up. Lately, though, in his mission to be more vulnerable and open with you, he reciprocates and tells you about his past, here and there. 

Night falls. He’s closing up one of his stories about one of his old teachers that usually made you laugh till you cried. It makes you laugh this time too, except your heart is racing and you can feel your palms getting a little sweaty. 

The both of you go quiet as you eat lightly, taking only a few bites before calling it a night. 

“I have a surprise for you,” You suddenly say, and his face is plastered with confusion. “I need you to close your eyes.” 

He’s so obviously taken aback that you snort at him. “Just for a second, it won’t take long. Please.”

He complies and places his hands over his eyes to reassure you that they’re for sure closed and that he can’t see anything. Megumi hears you rummaging around in your bag that you kept at your feet, hears you tear something open, and then you fall quiet. 

You kind of want to throw up. You don’t know why this feels so difficult, why it’s making you so nervous. In the past, when Megumi was mean to you, you think that this might’ve been easier, because you’d be able to tell what reaction he would give. 

You can’t tell anymore. 

You collect yourself together before you speak up, finally, “Okay. You can look now.” 

He removes his hands to see you sitting sideways in your seat, to face him. Your feet are tucked beneath you and you hold out a sloppy, slightly smeared chocolate muffin with an unlit candle stuck on top. 

“Happy birthday, Dog Boy.” 

Your voice is so soft and quiet, and he feels something take over him for a second. It’s strong, this feeling of adoration and something else he’s too nervous to admit, even to himself. He’s about to ask how in the world you would know that today’s his birthday, because he didn’t even know- but then he remembers the night you had written it into your calendar. 

“You,” He begins, nearly breathless. “Thank you.” 

You smile up at him and scoot closer, pushing the muffin towards him so that he could take it. He does, and he removes the candle and puts it on the dashboard, letting it roll away carelessly. 

The muffin looks miniature in his big hands, which is to his advantage as he splits it into two, effortlessly. He offers you a piece and you take it with a big, gushy smile on your face. You don’t see him smiling back at you endearingly. 

You’re bashful like the two of you are having a lunch date in a school courtyard. You want to look at him, revel in his features, but you don’t want to be caught staring either. 

You throw yourself a bone and let yourself glance at him. He’s finished his piece, and all he’s doing now is swiping the crumbs off of his jacket. As he shifts around, you see a smudge of chocolate right by his lip. 

“Wait,” You start, leaning closer. “There’s frosting on your lip.” 

“Here?” He pokes his tongue out on the wrong side, and you have to bite back a little smile. 

“No, no- I’ll get it for you,” You offer, leaning in even closer to him, nearly crawling right on top. You stick your thumb out gently, your touch feather light as you bring it to the corner of his lip and wipe off the small spot of frosting. 

You linger on purpose, and his breath hitches. 

“Sunshine,” He breathes, hands frozen in the air. He’s unsure of where to put them. 

“Mhm?”

“Can I,” He starts, hesitates, then starts again. “Can I kiss you?” 

Your smile speaks for you, but the moment that you let out a breathy yes, he cups your face and slots his lips against yours. He’s so soft, despite it being winter and the both of you constantly dry and chapped. He holds you, moves you like you’re a glass doll, so cautious and gentle. Megumi begins to shift the both of you, sitting up before pushing you down onto the seat. 

It’s awkward. The truck is so small, the both of you clunking around, but you two take it like champs. He breaks away to give a little laugh against your lips, easing the tension, and it’s so wonderful, so beautiful, that you waste no time pulling him back down to kiss him just a bit harder. 

You figure that he’s hesitant, and you appreciate that he isn’t pushy and trying to cross all boundaries at once. You know that if you only wanted to kiss and call it a night, he’d be perfectly okay with that. 

But you’re as greedy as ever, and you want more of him. 

You start playing with his lips, pulling away to softly bite at them, dart your tongue across the bottom one. It makes him freeze for a second, feelings of surprise and excitement engulfing his heart, but then he indulges. Megumi gently pulls your bottom lip into his mouth and sucks on it, thumb softly caressing your jaw. 

And you’re so starved, having gone months without even shaking someone’s hand. His actions make you gasp out softly, and he feels driven to pull more out of you. 

Megumi catches himself in his thoughts and pulls away again, “This- Is this okay?” 

You’re melting beneath him. You nod rapidly, begging silently. “Yes,” You huff out, precious smile coming across your lips. “Please.” 

He nods and then dives back in to kiss you square on the lips before moving lower, planting kisses down your neck as much as he can before your puffy parka interrupts him. He smiles fondly and looks up at you, seeing if you would notice the obstruction. 

“Oh,” You let out, face hot. “Sorry.” 

You’re so embarrassed, but Megumi thinks he could just eat you up. 

You prop yourself onto your elbows as best as you can, messily unzipping the jacket and flinging it away. It’s not like it goes far, anyway. You hear the zipper scratch against the glove compartment as you thrash it away, and it makes the both of you laugh breathily. 

You watch as he takes it upon himself to do the same, undoing the buttons on his own jacket before carelessly tossing it behind him. The two of you are now just in long sleeves and cargo pants, and he looks at you with an inkling of concern. “It’s still cold,” He whispers, now that he’s lowering himself back over you, “Leave it on, yeah?” 

You want nothing more than to rip your shirt off, but you know he’s right. You know that if you take it off, the bite of the cold would probably dampen your mood. 

You can only nod obediently, eyes begging him again, for a kiss. 

Megumi sneaks back down again to pick up where he left off, kissing along your neck and down to your collarbone before your shirt blocks off the rest of your chest from him. He’s moved his hands lower to rearrange your legs, to make it more comfortable for the both of you, and you’re so pliant beneath him, wanting all of his touches. 

His hands reach the button of your pants, “I’m gonna…” he starts, but never finishes. He’s caught up in the way you lift your hips to help him slide down your pants, caught up in the sight of you in your underwear. 

As soon as he tugs them off and pushes them to the side, you hiss as the cool air kisses your skin, and he’s quick to soothingly rub at your thighs, hands trailing down to your calves. 

“I know,” He soothes, warming you up. “I know, baby.” 

Megumi wants to take it slow, he wants to be able to ride out the moment, but the way you whimper at his touch pushes him. “Fuck- fuck, okay.” 

His movements and options are limited due to the space of the truck. He can’t necessarily do everything he wants with you, but he's grateful for the moment regardless. 

He moves back down to kiss you, slightly softer this time, with his forearm propped beside your head to keep him up, and his other trailing up and closer to the space between your thighs. Just the movement of his fingers gently dragging across your clothed cunt is enough to have you rutting up into his hand, desperate for more, tired of his slow pace. He’s swallowing all your sounds, but he pulls back as soon as he slips his hand beneath your panties, wanting to hear you this time. Cold fingers meet your folds and you twitch, legs nearly closing around his hand, and he smiles as he tuts at you. “Relax,” He breathes out against your jaw before softly nipping at it, kissing it. 

You’re already wet, and he smiles to himself cheekily before lazily rubbing his fingers against your entrance to slicken them. It makes you sigh out, so pretty and light, and he just loves the way your chest rises and falls. 

What he loves even more, though, is the moan you let out the second that he starts circling your clit, the way your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. You’re trying to push yourself up against him, trying to feel more, but all he does is smile into your neck, absolutely basking in the way you need him so badly. 

“Please,” You finally cave, voice airy as you softly drag your nails across his back to get his attention. “More, please, I want- I want you.” 

He reaches up to plant a kiss on the corner of your lips. “All you had to do was ask.” 

He smoothly pulls down your underwear entirely, and just the sight of your arousal clinging onto the cotton fabric is enough to have him swallowing, adam’s apple bobbing. Megumi slips only his middle finger into your core at first, and it’s enough to satisfy you for now, walls fluttering. His fingers are so long, and you think about just how big his hands are, and it’s enough to make you whine in your own little fantasy. 

He takes his time in pumping it in and out of you before slipping his ring finger inside, picking up the pace. Your thighs tighten around his hand and you sloppily try to pull him down closer to you, hiding your face into the crook of his neck as he curls his fingers. The palm of his hand presses against your clit and you cry out, fingers latching onto his hair as you start your little spiel of babbles. 

“Right there, right there, oh my god, there, there-”

You cut yourself off as he speeds up, your cute little incoherent sounds encouraging him. He wishes he could see your face, see the look in your eyes, but you can only squeal into his shoulder and knock your knees against his legs as you feel something within you tighten. 

“Right here?” He teases, fingers curling against your warm walls, and the feeling of it is enough to make him hang his head low, panting, cock straining at the thought of how you’d feel around him. 

“Mhm,” You choke out, too far gone to try and say something to tease him back. Your head drops back onto the seat and you feel your back arch up against him, heat swarming in your abdomen as you chant out breathily- Yes, yes, yes. 

Megumi feels you tense up, and then you’re twitching, crying into him as you come undone all over his fingers, earning a groan from him. He works you through it, lets you have your fun before your vision is blurring and you’re half heartedly pushing his hand away. 

You fall limp beneath him and watch him with a hazy mind as he brings his fingers up to his lips, lapping at them, sucking them clean. 

You turn your head to the side, suddenly feeling shy. He smiles down at you, “Don’t try to be modest, now.” 

It makes you laugh weakly, makes you swat at his chest so softly that it feels like a mere tap. He dips back down to pepper the junction of your neck and shoulder in kisses, occasionally licking and biting, hoping little bruises bloom across your skin. 

The both of you freeze when you feel something hard poke at the inside of your thigh. 

Megumi groans, and you know he’s embarrassed. He buries his face into the side of your neck, hand slipping beneath your shirt to massage at your waist. 

You want him now, fast, before the two of you call it a night, and you want to call out for him. 

But you can’t just say Dog Boy, please fuck me. 

It makes you wince at yourself, but you’re too shy to ask for his name now. 

“Baby,” You finally breathe out, your hand running up and down his arm. 

He hums contentedly into your neck. 

“Need you,” You start quietly, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your heat. “Need you inside me.” You swear you hear him groan a low Fuck right into your skin. 

He heaves himself up, eyes glossed over with lust and a glint of something that makes your heart skip a few beats, but you don’t want to jump the gun with that just yet. You can only hope that he sees the same thing in your eyes, too. 

Megumi sloppily works on undoing his pants, heaving a content sigh when you rushedly swat his hands away and take the task into your own hands. 

He stuffs his pants past his knees, frantically trying to kick them off his legs as fast as he can. 

You nearly whine at the sight of him, like this, all for you, in front of you. 

He moves down to kiss you, pushing you back down to the seat, making sure you were lying comfortably. He takes his cock into his hand, smoothing it over your wet folds back and forth to prep himself. 

You’re panting, lifting your hips, urging him on. 

He finally aligns himself with your slit, but pauses for a second. 

“Megumi.” 

“H-Huh?” 

“My name’s Megumi,” He suddenly confesses as he pushes his tip in slowly. 

You think you carry the universe in your chest. It feels like it’s expanding, endlessly, painfully- a delicious type of pain. You’re too caught up in the newfound intimacy of learning his name that your jaw goes slack as soon as you feel him bottom out within you, breaking you from your trance. 

You feel so full. 

“Megumi,” You cry unabashedly, moving your hips, encouraging him to move. 

He groans, big hands planting themselves on your hips as he begins with slow thrusts, drawing out the feeling. He hits all the right places, but the pace he’s going at is devastating.

You’re whining, begging, babbling out for him to go faster, to fuck me, please, please Megumi, and the sound of your pretty voice crying out his name is enough to drive him insane. 

He loves torturing you, really. Loves the way you cry for him, the way you clench around him, the way your voice shakes. 

Megumi sets a fast pace, rutting into you like you’re the outlet for all his pent-up feelings. You’re squealing, and when the tip of his cock hits the spot that sends you around the world and back, you feel tears blur your vision. 

“Feels s-so good, Megumi,” You chatter dumbly, too lost in the feeling and the sounds he’s making. 

“Yeah?” He strains, grip tightening on your hips. “Look so pretty like this, baby. So fucking- oh, god- pretty.”

He enunciates his statement with a particularly hard thrust that has your toes curling, your hands tight on his biceps before he moves to fold you in half, squeezing you into a mating press as best as he can. His eyes zero in on where the two of you meet as he tries to etch the sight into his memory. 

��Megumi,” You cry weakly, “So much, so so good, so- ah!”

You can’t even form a single coherent sentence, and he thinks you’re so adorable. He watches as fresh tears cascade down the path of dried ones, and it only spurs him further. The two of you are so pathetically desperate to reach your orgasms, you don’t even mind when his thrusts become sloppy and off-kilter, when he starts groaning and even lets out the prettiest of sounds when you flutter around him. 

You manage to collect yourself for just a second. 

“Please fill me up,” You beg, nodding dumbly to egg him on. “Wanna- wanna feel you cum inside me, wanna- oh, fuck, fuck, baby, please-” 

He knows it’s probably not the smartest idea, but he’s too caught up in chasing his pleasure, and your little begs and mewls make his movements stutter before he finally stills inside you, pressing your thighs to your chest to steady himself. 

“Take it, baby. Fucking- god- take it.”

“Mhm,” You nod frantically, static invading your vision, “Make me yours, please, make me- I’m, oh, I’m yours,” You’re running your mouth nonsensically, and the feeling of his seed spilling inside of you is enough to push you past the edge until you’re crying and shaking beneath him. 

He wants to hear you say it for forever, telling him that you’re his. 

He leans in to kiss your forehead, “Say it again.” 

You think you could pass out, chest still heaving up and down as you come back down from your high, but you would do anything to please him. “‘M yours.” 

Megumi smiles to himself before he pulls out, the sensation pulling a hiss from you as he lets you relax your legs and tries to clean the both of you to the best of his ability, considering the circumstances. 

He helps you slide your panties back on, maneuvers your legs for you so that you can tug on your pants, worried that you’ll get cold fast. 

You let him take charge, too exhausted to even move. Megumi splays across the seat and pulls you into his chest, trying to pull his jacket over the two of you like a blanket. 

“Megumi,” You say sleepily, cheek smushed against the spot where his heart beats. He hums, encouraging you to go on. 

“My name,” You start, “My name is (Y/N).” And, before you let him speak, you turn your head to look up at him with a cheeky little smile. “Does this make us friends, now?” 

He laughs. It’s your favorite sound.

“I hope we can be more than friends.” 

You hum affirmatively and kiss his earlobe before nestling against him, falling asleep.

The days are filled with love and gestures of affection after that night. Megumi is more comfortable now, though sometimes he pinches your side gently whenever you slip up and accidentally call him Dog Boy. He tells you that he demands reparations for your wrongdoings- he specifies that he would like to be paid back in kisses. 

Whenever you call him a sap, he pinches your side again. 

Although the two of you seem to be in your own little world, lost in love, the outer world has not changed. You add another step to your nightly routine, right before you go to sleep; Check the radio. 

Megumi leaves it propped on the dashboard at all times and frequently asks you to try and catch a signal so that the two of you can hear some news. Day after day, you find yourselves unlucky. You’re always greeted by the same crackle and fuzz. 

He’s been thinking hard lately, and you can see it. He’s always a little distracted, late to respond to you, or sometimes not even listening altogether. 

He’s thinking that at this rate, it may be smarter to settle down. To find somewhere to stay, to wait out the situation. Surely, with time, the zombies should die out. This cannot last forever. 

And while you’re splitting the food or reading outdated magazines that he grabbed for you at the store, he’s facing his own little mental battles. He knows that you dream of a better future, with people coming together and starting anew. And he knows that you’re becoming even more hopeful now that you’ve reached North and the camp should be within your sights at any time, but the journey itself is not promising. It’s colder, storms more often, the truck shakes and does not shield you from the cold all that well when the two of you are asleep. Megumi is nearly positive that the best idea, for now, is to settle down somewhere and to at least let the season pass. 

He’s promised himself that he’ll bring it up to you on this particular morning, as the snow kisses the windows and fights against the weak attempts of the windshield wipers. You’re rummaging through a magazine, reading it over for the nth time and trying to fill out one of the crossword puzzles you had previously left empty for times like this. 

“(Y/N),” He starts, mouth dry as he glances at you before looking back at the road. 

“Hm?”

“I’ve been thinking, recently…”

As he pauses to collect what he wants to say, you giggle to yourself. “I know. You always look kind of constipated, you know? You’re not very good at hiding it, Megs.” 

His face flushes red, and the both of you know it’s not from the cold. He appreciates that you’re not upset that he’s been keeping things to himself as of late, but he thinks he could’ve gone without the playful comment. 

“Anyway,” He stresses, though he doesn’t feel so panicky anymore. He strictly keeps his eyes trained in front of him, on the road, following the short, yellow lines that divide it down the middle. 

“I think… think we should settle down. The winter is only going to get harsher, and this truck is so old, I’m not sure how long it’ll last. We can find some place to stay- there’s empty houses everywhere- and we can sit out until the season is over. It’ll be safer that way.” 

His proposition hangs in the air. You’re awfully quiet, and for a second he wonders if you were even listening. 

“Megumi- pull over.” 

“Huh? What?” 

“Just- just stop the truck.” 

He thinks you’re angry, but you don’t sound it. He rushedly puts the truck into park and tries to catch a glimpse of your face, to see how you feel. 

You look focused. You don’t even bother to look at him; you’re looking past him.

He confirms that you probably weren’t even listening to what he said when you ask, “Do you see that? Over there?”

“See what?”

“That… that big white thing, like… look.” You point your finger in the general direction of what you see. 

“(Y/N), everything’s white- it’s snowing-”

You hush him, “No, no. It’s huge...it’s..”

You don’t finish. You’re tired of squinting to try and make out the shape of what you see, so you haul the truck door open and spill out of it clumsily, the snow catching you. Fear, hope, adrenaline, excitement; it swallows you whole and you think you could throw up. You trudge towards the front of the truck, snow pulling on your boots like it’s begging you to stay. 

Megumi follows after you, worried as to why you’re frozen in place, pushing past the clingy snow. Your name catches in his throat before he gets to call out to you. He finally sees what you see, just a few yards away. 

Children. Young, healthy looking children. They’re running around, squealing and throwing snow at each other, little hands covered in gloves and big, puffy jackets slowing down their movements. He sees people calling out to them, ushering them inside big tents- tents.

They’re caked with snow, but positively scattered all over the place. He sees people peeking out, zipping them up, running straight out of them to dive into inches of fresh snow.

You’re rushing back to the truck, feeling weightless as you snag your backpack from the passenger seat and haul it with you as you try to run past Megumi, towards the people. “Hurry, Megumi!” You call, a smile so evident in your voice. 

“I have to show them my calendar!” 

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #megumi smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

[bookyeom]

campfire - bsk

pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."

Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway? 

Yours. Right. It was your idea. 

You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.

The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped. 

Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern. 

"Did that hurt?" 

You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment. 

You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.

“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”

He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”

Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”

“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”

That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”

You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”

“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”

You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”

You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence. 

A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.

“How’s the ankle?”

“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?

The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.

“I’ll help them.”

You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours. 

“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”

“Seungkwan…” 

He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire. 

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.

Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.” 

“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t. 

Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”

You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”

Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”

You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”

He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”

“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”

Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”

“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?” 

You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”

His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?” 

Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“

“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.” 

Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”

“Oh my god,” you say after a moment. 

You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.

“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”

Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”

“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”

Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.

“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face. 

“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo

#seungkwan x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan imagine #seventeen fluff #my writing #bskfic #bookyeom700

[slocumjoe]

danse's romance route has some potholes

so, this post woke me from my slumber, have a ramble

This has always been a weird point for me, but I never got around to really figuring out what it was exactly until just now. I think all of the romantic candidates have out-of-place flirting, at least here and there, but Danse consistently has dialogue options to flirt with him at exactly the wrong fuckin time. The odd thing about Danse is that, most of the time, the normal Good/Yes answer is more romantic or sincerely affectionate than the flirt.

So, the Flirts.

The only Flirt that works is when he talks about his fear of losing people, and Sole says, "I care too much about you to do that to you." It's the first Flirt, and he responds by saying you've given him "something to think about." I've gone on about how Danse has never truly felt cared for. Sole's voice acting also sells this Flirt by being somewhat timid, unsure of saying this, but wanting him to know.

Danse's talks go Kreig > Cutler > Haylen > Help Im A Robot. The first time you can flirt with him is in the Cutler chat, where the "I care about you" line comes up. It's not out of left field from the conversation. It's affectionate, it doesn't overstep, but it pushes the line and makes Danse consider "oh shit, there's a lil something something going on here."

The "Would you hold me?" line is much less subtle.

Danse talks about how he doubts himself after Cambridge and Sole's reference to him hugging Haylen makes it seem like they've just been waiting for him to shut up to use that line on him. It's out of place, it circles back to a topic we've moved on from, and it's so overt it sucker-punches everyone involved, including the player. It's blunt.

The other options of "I'm here whenever you need me" or "I'm glad you feel better" are less flirtatious, but they imply more direct concern and care for Danse. Both lines are about Danse, and Sole being there for him. The actual Flirt is what Danse can do for Sole. This is such a weird nitpick, I know, but it comes off not as romantic, but more like Sole is trying to hook up with him. That would work with someone like Hancock, or maybe Piper, but Danse's romance involves more subtlety and slow-burn elements. It's too forward.

So, in his final talk...

It's literally "Kitten I'll be honest, Daddy's about to kill himself" "haha no don't kill yourself you're soooo sexy"

It comes right after he's having a lot of emotions about his reason for living. This is not the time to put the responsibility of a relationship on someone. Again, this is a flaw of the 4 Affinity Talks system. If you're just going for a platonic relationship with Danse, his talks work great, but his character arc is unfinished anyway. They have to shoehorn romance in there, and it doesn't have the room to develop naturally. It's why Sole has to explicitly say "Would you hold me ;>".

The strangest part is that his neutral/Friendly dialogue options are more affectionate and relationship-building. Again, the other options in the Haylen talk comfort Danse and reassure him.

Honestly, I think the best option, for all romancable companions, is within arms reach. You know how, if you don't romance someone, they'll bring up their last talk again and give you a barn door of an opening to broach the subject of a relationship again? Just. Do that/ It's literally what I did when I romanced Danse; don't romance him as soon as possible. Let it marinate.

The second chance to romance him goes the exact same way, eyebrows to space and all. It just takes place after Danse confesses how close he feels to you and trusts you and not RIGHT AFTER BLIND BETRAYAL.

It's easy to fix the pacing just by not going for the smooch ASAP, but the flirting is awkward. It's worth noting that the line before the Haylen flirt "It's comforting to know that I can speak to you as more than just your commanding officer" has it's own Flirting tag on it. Danse flirts with Sole here, canonically.

A cheap and easy rewrite is Sole echoing the sentiment with something like, "It's comforting to know that you're more than my commanding officer." This leaves room for interpretation. What else is Danse? Sole has an idea, but leaves Danse to wonder about it. It also confirms to Danse "yes, we have a personal bond and this isn't just a work thing."

I think the core of Danse's romance is this dude realizing that he's loved and cared for, truly. Cait has a similar arc, but hers has different complications and contexts than Danse. Danse needs a slow-burn romance full of soft moments and instances of Sole reminding him of his own humanity, even long before the synth thing.

It's worth noting that the "i care too much about you" line is still kinda overshadowed by the "But I wanna be a mutant" joke. That joke makes him laugh, he jokes back without missing a beat, and it's a cute little bonding moment between him and Sole. Romance isn't just overt flirting, it's the little things that make you think the other person is special. How many people do you think can make Danse laugh? Especially about becoming a Super Mutant, right after being told about Cutler? Danse thinks Sole is funny. He thinks it's a cute little joke. He's charmed.

Then Sole sucker-punches him with an explicit ask of physical contact and emotional exploration and the moment is lost. For the Halyen talk, you could have an option where Sole asks, teasingly, if this is going on the report, and Danse laughs and contemplates what Maxson would think. Maybe he even comments about how rumors spread on the Prydwen, implying that he knows there is something between you two for people to gossip about. This would later tie in to The Reveal, where Maxson says the same thing.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #a smaller lazier post but I have Thoughts

[loveemagicpeace]

🏹Astrology Notes 🛼

People with many aspects of Neptune, especially Neptune Square North Node, can get into bad paths (alcohol, drugs...) many times they look for a solution by running away from problems. In life, they struggle with many difficult, incomprehensible, strange things. They may come across many people who deceive them.

Pluto opp chiron - can illustrate that you never really get over your traumas that were inflicted on you when you were little. Many times you can carry a swordsman's side inside you and never really let it go.

Mercury opp chiron- you have a hard time expressing or talking about your pain. It can often take a really long time to talk about what's bothering you.

Mercury conj Pluto- you can always be secretive about what you say. It could also be that a part of you is always hidden behind words.

The aspect of the moon and Saturn indicates the relationship the person has with his mother. People who have very strong aspects with the moon and saturn can be very attached to their mother and the mother has a great influence on them. It also shows that this person is not emotionally open and can always keep their feelings inside.

Dynamic aspects (opposition, square, inconjunction, semi-square) between Saturn and Jupiter indicate that a person can be full of hope at one moment and completely desperate at the next. These aspects are often associated with suicide. Because people can hardly bear such strong energy.

There are differences: Sagittarius is much more changeable than Jupiter, more freedom-loving and irresponsible. Sagittarius is less likely to symbolize the acquisition of material goods. Also, being a sign and therefore a less powerful symbol than a planet, it is less likely than Jupiter to operate at an excessive level. Sagittarius is less likely to signify waste, excess, or arrogance. Sagittarius gets along best with planets like Mars, Uranus, and the Sun, which are fast-moving, energetic, and not resistant to change.

Strongly emotional planets do not do well in Capricorn because the sign tends to repress emotion in favor of discipline. The Moon is particularly difficult here, because Capricorn will not allow the Moon to enjoy being dependent on others, a mode of relationship that is absolutely essential to the Moon’s functioning at some point in life. Venus is also not at its best, because its emotional criteria for choice are likely to be subordinated to practical criteria. Venus in Capricorn can also indicate an attraction to older persons who can serve as authority figures as well as lovers.

The Pisces symbol is two fishes swimming in opposite directions, and like Sagittarius and Gemini, Pisces is traditionally referred to as a dual sign. There are two types of Piscean: the advanced (Pisces as the last stage in the evolution of the archetypal ego or self) and the primitive (Pisces as the stage just prior to a new beginning in Aries).

Pluto in the 3rd house can represent a very strong bond with a sister. So separation with your sister can very difficult if you live far apart. You can create a beautiful and strong bond with your sister.

Mars in the 5th house indicates a difficult birth and problems with children. Children may be restless, aggressive or angry. It is important to look at aspects.

Jupiter in the 9th house often indicates good intuition and prophetic dreams. So it is important to remember your dreams.

Virgo rising people are so beautiful. I notice that women have beautiful faces and skin. Men, on the other hand, have well-developed eyes and bodies. I would say that virgins can have more beautiful beauty than technical ones in the subsign. Otherwise, it depends on where Mercury falls in the house, but still, their beauty is very naturally beautiful.

Moon in the third house indicates sensitive emotions and feelings. Moods change quickly.

The Moon in the fifth house indicates great success for children. Also a  person very dedicated to fun.

Moon in the sixth house can mean too much strain in terms of health. Lots of public contact. It can also mean insecurity and health problems in the first 7 years.

Mars in 7th house can mean that the individual is too open in relationships and dealings. It can also mean that he is jealous, intense and controlling.

Mars in the 11th house means you can be argumentative and want things your way. Many times the need for freedom is strong.

Mars in 12th house- the individual is interested in hidden things. You can join things that are secret. You like to work in the shadows. And you present your things when you are sure of them.

Uranus in the first house often shows that your personality is very unique and special. You have an energy that others find rare and interesting. You are a person who does not like drug treatment and prefers to find a different way (natural way of treatment). You want a job that is free and you don't like being controlled by others.

Uranus in the seventh house indicates premature engagement or marriage. It also means inharmonious relationships (if the aspects are not good). It also indicates a relationship in which one is ingenious and clever.

Uranus in ten house people are prone to emotional or physical loss through one parent. It is said that people with this position are also inclined to have two professions at the same time. It is important for women to check if her Uranus is in the 10th house of a man. Because this can indicate that the man is more focused on his career than her.

A person with mercury in the 9th house will always know at least 2 foreign languages, if not more. These people learn foreign languages very quickly and quickly understand others. They often prefer foreign languages.

Mars in Libra -A person can be quarrelsome and inharmonious. But it's not always like that. It depends on what aspects the person has. Person can be very passive aggressive and hides a lot of their energy. Many times they do something, but in reality they want something completely different. They can place the blame on others in many cases unless the person has Venus in good stabile sign.

Chart ruler of 8th house in 5th house -if it is  in bad aspects, it can indicate the possibility of miscarriage, loss of a child at birth or in youth.

Chart ruler  of 8th house in 8th house symbolizes benefit from the dead. Interest in immortality, spirituality. If the ruler is in an bad position then there can be problems with dying.

Chart ruler of the 9th house in 4th house travel is necessary for family matters. Property comes from relatives and partner.

Chart ruler of the 9th house in 6th house means handling due to travel. As well as good success abroad. If the aspects are in an unfavorable position, it can mean illness while traveling.

Chart ruler of the 9th house in 7th house means marriage in a foreign country or marriage with a foreigner. It often symbolizes a person living in another country. If it is in an unfavorable position, it may mean that relatives oppose the marriage.

The ruler of the 10th house in the 1st house- can mean a lot of ambition and talents. But it can mean loss due to father.

The ruler of the 10th house in the 6th house- symbolizes a humble position in society. Treatment can be an important part of an individual's life. If the aspects are bad, it can mean loss of career due to health.

Ruler of 10th house in 7th house- indicates benefit from public. Lawsuits are positive and marriage can bring fame.

Ruler of the 10th house in the 11th house - symbolizes the fulfillment of dreams. Strong and influential friends help the individual.

-Rebekah🧚🏻‍♀️🦋

#astrology #zodiac signs #astrological houses #birth chart #astrology observations #moon #my notes #planets #energy

[communistkenobi]

in that post abt the gender unicorn graphic, in the comments the idea of the “split attraction model” is brought up and you say you dont want to litigate that. however, im really curious what your opinion is bc i have some ideas abt it too. i feel like its sort of an incomplete analysis? like, people feel different ways about others and that cant really be flattened into like two modes of attraction. but i personally would call myself aromantic and bisexual so obviously i have some level of investment of the idea. anyways i just ask because in general i find your analysis and opinions compelling

thank you! re: this graphic

My issue with splitting “physical attraction” and “emotional attraction” is that it does the same naturalising trick that the chromosomes-as-the-symbol-of-sex does - by splitting the emotional from the physical, this implies that physical attraction is natural, without emotion, and by the same token that emotion can exist completely detached from the physical body of the person you emotionally desire. Like I just don’t think this is true! For example, the idea of “casual sex,” ie sex that is devoid of emotion/emotional investment, is a social construction, it is a sexual act that is being contrasted against societal norms of “serious sex” or “invested sex” or whatever you want to call it - sex that is being done in the context of a monogamous, married relationship, or an otherwise exclusive long-term one. the base social unit of much of western society is the nuclear family, and the nuclear family is “ideally” produced by monogamous, cis-heterosexual, racially homogeneous reproductive sex. That is the norm by which all other sexual behaviour and activity is judged by.

and to be clear I’m not using “emotional” in an idealistic or moral sense, I am not using it as a shorthand for romantic feelings, I am purposefully using the language the graphic is using - I mean any emotion. Like just to be super clear, I’m not suggesting that people who have casual sex all secretly love the people they fuck, or that sex has to always be a serious emotional endeavour, or that people who do not feel sexual attraction to the people they have romantic feelings for are secretly lying, but that I don’t think sex is something that can be devoid of emotionality entirely. Like I think we are engaging in this Cartesian body/mind dualism where the physical acts we perform are somehow wholly separate from our emotional states. Pleasure has an emotional component to it, I don’t know how to articulate my experiences with pleasure that do not involve some level of emotionality, and emotionality has a physical character to it. Like in fact I think this graphic is treating emotions as ideal states - it reminds me of like old misogynistic psychological theory that described rationality as an absence of emotion, that to engage in rationality is to move away from emotion. It treats rationality as “out there,” objective, natural, detached from social influence, and emotion as “in here,” in our hearts, ruled by the social. And this distinction is made on the idea that the social world is detached from the physical world, which is pure idealism.

this is not a dismissal or denial of anyone who feels a disconnect between their sexual and romantic desires, such as asexual or aromantic people - while I am neither of those things, I have experienced intense physical desire for the person I’m fucking while actively dissociating during sex as a result of dysphoria/heteronormativity/etc etc. by the same token I have also felt emotionally compelled to be physically attracted to someone without actually feeling physical desire. These are both emotional states that were in conflict with my physical desires, or rather my physical desires as I understood them at the time. our ability to interpret and understand our desires is itself social! otherwise heteronormativity wouldn’t be a thing. We don’t have unmediated, unemotional access to physical desire, which I think this graphic is arguing, intentionally or not.

so having complicated, contradictory, disconnected, or otherwise ‘non-normative’ relationships to our emotional states vis a vis physical desire is obviously very real, and the reason they are real is because physical desire is also socially mediated and constructed. What and who we find attractive, why types of bodies, physical and character traits, etc are attractive to us are all part of (joker voice) society.

now, idk how you easily communicate this in graphic format. perhaps these things are unsuited to the medium of easily digestible graphics, or perhaps I’m limited in my imagination. either way I don’t think bifurcating emotional-desire-as-social and physical-desire-as-natural is particularly helpful

#asks #disabling reblogs because um. well you know what tumblr is like #this is not ‘ace discourse’ or whatever the fuck I’m not doing that shit and if you start on here I’m gonna block you #even old new york was once new amsterdam

[squishytenya]

semblance of touch - part three

prologue - part one - part two

pairing - bakugou x gn!reader

warnings - cursing, training fights, descriptions of pain (but not injury), mild angst, mild arguments (title from sedated by Hozier), this one's a long one guys!

The days after the conference had proven quite boring for the both of you. Since you had been hit by the quirk, you and Bakugou had been understandably banned from patrol. Effects from the girl’s quirk had proved too much of a liability to allow you two to risk your lives or health on the field. 

Stagnation wasn’t something Bakugou enjoyed. 

Something you could tell, because the man had been non-stop bitching for the past 24 hours. If he talked in his sleep, you were sure he would be complaining then too. He had exhausted all of his hobbies apparently (even though said hobbies consisted of gym work, studying and cooking - and that was being generous), and had resorted to sitting on the couch, watching your classmates go by. Not only that, he had been embellishing his people watching with foul mouthed commentary. 

You watched as his red eyes danced over where Midoriya and Ochaco were snuggled up on the loveseat opposite you two. You were sure, if you squinted, you would probably be able to see the cartoon steam bursting from his ears.

“Fucking Deku and his fucking girlfriend, do they have to do that shit in public?” he grumbled, bitterly. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“They’re not in public, they literally live here” 

“Still, get a fucking room”

You sighed, lifting yourself off of the couch. As much as the couple were slightly heavy handed on the PDA, you recognised that Katsuki was experiencing a weird off-brand cabin fever. And, to be honest, his complaining was pissing you off. 

“C’mon shithead, you need to get out of the dorms” 

You punctuated your instruction by running your fingers through his blonde locks and giving them a brisk tug. Bakugou sucked in a breath, one which you attributed to him trying to keep his anger under control.

“Kirishima!” you called for the redhead across the common room, “wanna come spar with us?”

The redhead in question immediately perked up at your suggestion. Patrols had been slow for everyone the past couple of weeks, ever since things with all for one had settled down it had mainly been low level criminals. Such criminals had proved consistently easy to deal with. Unfortunately, this also meant that it was not only Bakugou who had begun to develop that itch under his skin of wanting to do something more. 

Sero poked his head round the corner. 

“Uh, you mind if I tag along?” he questioned, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. 

Bakugou growled. A swift elbow to the ribs from you cut off his emerging protests before they had the chance to bubble over. The amount of time you had spent together had caused you to develop an effective balm to his sharp tongue, even for others. 

“Absolutely, we would love that” you smiled at the two boys in front of you. 

Sero cast an amused glance over to Kirishima, the both of them shared a small smile and nodded back to where you and Bakugou were standing. 

“Right, we need to get ready so move it or lose it, asshole” you sang and pulled your roommate along by his collar. 

— 

The training room was a welcome sight when you entered. Due to the nature of your incident, you and Bakugou had been without training for the past couple of days. The two of you rarely trained with one another, and hadn’t for the past three years of your schooling. Now that you were adults, and almost done with your education all together, you still had yet to be in a one-on-one sparring session with the loud blonde. 

Obviously, this wasn’t something you had taken much issue with, having seen the way he treats others during training. Unlike Kirishima, you didn’t have the non-metaphorical thick skin to be able to deal with those blows. There was no doubt that Katsuki was a force to be reckoned with in every aspect of his life. If you had to deal with the personal side of it because of your unfortunate situation, the training side can keep to itself as far as you were aware. 

The flow of aircon in the gym caused your loose tee to flutter around your torso as you stepped into the room. All four of you had elected for casual gym clothes rather than the more formal training uniform. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but let your gaze travel over your three companions. Sero, despite his deceptively lanky appearance, had elected for classic black gym shorts and a tank with obnoxiously wide arm holes - showing off not only his defined arms, but the lithe muscles of his torso too. Kirishima’s tight black training tee stretched over his defined arms and chest in a way that had you reminiscing of many conversations during girls night. He paired this with loose fitting red sweats that cupped his strong thighs nicely. Both of the men were impressive, and if they weren’t such good friends of yours, there’s no doubt you may have ogled longer. 

In Katsuki’s case, ogling couldn’t be helped. He had managed to wear more clothing than the other two combined, and yet show far more off. The neck of his tank was stretched obscenely wide, showing off the peaks of his collar bones and muscled chest. Muscle wraps were smoothed over his forearms, providing the stability his gauntlets would have usually provided if it was any other training session, and bright orange KT tape tangled around the muscles in his upper arms. The shorts he had on were almost sinfully short, the orange piping up the side of them shifted like silk over his wide thighs whenever he took a step. Under the shorts were a pair of compression leggings so tight they looked almost painted on. The leggings had teasing mesh cutouts on his lower thighs and in triangles up from his ankles - displaying heavily muscled calves. The tank bunched up at the waist of his shorts, which only proved to further accentuate his tapered waist that was so often on show in his hero suit. 

You gulped dryly. 

What was it that Mina had said last time you were watching the boys spar? Sluttiest thing a man can do is have a tiny little waist. Your brain helpfully supplied the quote, causing the skin of your cheeks to flush warmly. 

“Oy, why did you stop?” a gruff voice questioned.

“Oh uh sorry” you excused yourself, traipsing through the open gym door, “just thinking that’s all”

You didn’t miss the arched eyebrow you earned from Sero as you walked into the gym, he had obviously caught her staring. Their redheaded companion snickered slightly through a poorly hidden smile and you threw a dirty look his way - only furthering the man’s giggles. 

“What are you two chucklefucks laughing at?” 

You froze up, spinning on your heel to pat at your companions' clothed chest. 

“Nothing for you to worry about blondie, let’s get to training” you hurried. 

After an annoyed tut, it seemed you had convinced him good enough for you four to get on with what you actually went to the gym to do. As always, Kirishima and Bakugou paired up with each other for sparring which left you and your raven-haired friend to partner up with each other.

“They’re so well matched i’m almost jealous” Sero mused at you, both of you observing your friends immediate start into training. 

“He’ll never say it outloud, but Bakugou really does love training with him” you whispered back. 

Sero snorted. 

“Emotional walls are up so high he can’t even tell his bro he’s a good sparring partner”

“He can’t even tell Sato he likes his baking dude, just grunts like a caveman”

Sero chuckled from his stretching position, peering up at you with  humorous dark eyes. 

“He’s nice to you though”

You double took, avoiding eye contact with the man next to you. Instead, you focused on your calf stretches and tried to still your beating heart. That didn’t seem at all true in your mind. Bakugou had never particularly been nice to you. Of course, he didn’t treat you like complete shit, you were definitely higher up on his mental nice list than Todoroki and Midoriya, despite how far they had all come in terms of friendship.

“I wouldn’t say that” you muttered, “if anything these last couple of days have proved it”

“Oh really? We all saw the press conference”

You cringed at the reminder of the blunder. 

“He doesn’t talk about everyone like that”

“Please, he was pissed cause that woman insulted our hero work, he probably wouldn’t have said anything if it was just me”

Sero rolled his eyes, gracefully tumbling up off the floor. 

“If you say so” he conceded, “maybe you’ll see it the way we do someday”

You snorted, standing and pushing his shoulder away. 

“Okay Socrates, are we sparring or what?”

Within moments the two of you were at blows with one another. Both of your quirks, unlike the two men next to you, were more long-distance friendly so you had taken up the majority of the space in the gym. Sero’s tape had become all the more powerful after years of training at UA, as well as apprentice placements at agencies. Because of the range of your quirks, you two were even placed at the same agency for one of these - meaning not only were your quirks evenly matched, but your training capabilities too. 

You veered sideways, dodging a bolt of tape coming straight for you. The side of the tap had caught your lip slightly, causing a rivulet of blood to drip down your chin. 

“You’re getting rusty Hanta” you sang.

Using the spare bolt of tape to swing round and land a kick to his shoulder that sent him reeling across the floor. You landed down on the soft mat of the gym floor, pounced up on one foot and sent yourself flying through the air towards your target. The training may have been casual, and therefore not very high stakes, but Sero had been your friend since first year and you two had developed a friendly amount of competitiveness when it came to winning fights. Apparently, even playful ones. 

One of your feet came crashing down just an inch from his head, the other below his spread arm. The raven haired man looked up at you from the floor and he was obviously slightly dazed at your quick movements. Reaching down, you placed a hand on his chest and smiled up at him. 

“One, two, three” you counted, drawing out the three. 

“And he’s pinned, I win! Ding ding ding first round goes to me!”

You stood up and withdrew yourself from above your sparring partner. Said man grumbled as he watched you dance around, caught up in the glee of your victory. 

“Yeah yeah, rub it in my face why don’t you”

The tape-hero grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his sore back from where you had planted him on the ground. You beamed at him. 

“Don’t get salty cause you lost dude,” you teased, “I’m just the best, you never had a chance really”

Snickering from the other side of the gym caught both your attention. Kirishima and Bakugou had evidently taken a break from beating the shit out of one another and had apparently seen the end of the fight between you and your butt-hurt sparring partner. Which meant they had also seen the gloating and victory dance you had been performing just moments prior. 

Bakugou glanced up at you through blonde lashes. His gaze was never soft, so to say, not like the way Midoriya looks at Ochako, or even the way Kirishima looks at a good meat skewer. But there was something light and airy in there this time, akin to amusement you would say if you didn’t know any better. 

“You really let them beat you?” grumbled Katsuki to the man on the floor. 

Sero’s sputter was undignified. He waved his hands in protest, before the words actually managed to find their way out of his mouth - you interrupted. 

“What do you mean ‘let’, asshole? He didn’t let me do shit, I beat him fair and square” you huffed, squaring up to the blonde. 

He chuffed, standing up and strolled over to where you were standing. There was less than a foot between your faces now. Still, you were unphased. Defiantly, you poked a finger onto his solid chest and stood even straighter.

“Go on, if you think i’m so easy to beat,” you challenged, “you and me, sparring, right now - let’s go”

A chuff of amusement hit your face, the minty fresh breath of your future opponent did nothing to quell the butterflies in your abdomen. 

“I’ll squish you, princess, don’t even try”

You raised a brow, leaning on one hip and crossing your arms rebelliously. 

“Try me blondie” you snarked, “or are you too much of a pussy? Surely you’re not scared I might beat you”

That seemed to hit the right target. A growl emitted from the man in front of you, one that you weren’t even going to pretend wasn’t attractive. There was pretty much steam emitting from his skin at the challenge. Whoops. 

“Fine, but don’t cry when I win” 

“I’m not Sero”

“Hey!”

Said man's indignant cries of protest were ignored as you followed your challenger onto the training mat once again. Sure, Katsuki was a formidable opponent and sure, you had never actually sparred with him. But you were all best of the best for a reason. You deserved to be here just as much as he did. Plus, you knew your training was good and that you were an amazing fighter, this would be a piece of cake. 

Kirishima counted you both in but neither of you broke eye contact with the other. The soft glint from earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by the harsh determination you knew to expect from Katsuki - whether it be from the past couple of days or the last three years of being in class with him. 

Still, you tried your best to seem unphased. Katsuki was the type to find and exploit any opponent's weakness, as he had done several times in the past with actual villain encounters. And you were all too aware he wasn’t shy of using the same tactics during in-class training. 

“2-1, Go!”

Without a moment's hesitation, the blonde leapt at you from across the mat, giving you little time to dodge. You knew from training that he moved quickly but Jesus, that was a little much. There was hardly time to catch your bearings before he spun seemingly in midair and swung a crackling hand towards your face. You managed to doge again, grabbing the man's arm and using his momentum to swing him towards the training mat. 

Unfortunately for you, Bakugou grabbed the back of your tee as you pulled him over, slamming you onto the mat along with him. 

You felt the thin fabric of your t-shirt tear straight down the middle of your back, the rest of the fabric fluttering off of your body in torn rivulets. Not one to be precious, you tore the rest of the scraps off - leaving you in a tight training vest. The sweat dripping down your forehead was quickly wiped away and you steeled yourself for the incoming blow from Bakugou. 

Ever the opportunist, he had used your momentary distraction to swing his popping, crackling fist towards your stomach. Within the split second of seeing it coming, you knew there was no way you’d be able to dodge it. Instead, you tensed your stomach muscles the best you could and prepared to swing your own elbow into the side of his face. But as his fist and your elbow made impact - there was a blinding golden light that illuminated the entire gym. 

When your vision came back to you, excruciating pain emitted not only from your stomach, but also your jaw? 

The wind had been thoroughly knocked from your chest. Laying, gasping on the mat, you could only blink up as Kirishima’s concerned face popped into your field of vision. There was an attempt to communicate with him yet all you could manage was a pitiful whimper. The pain flowing through your body, pulsating from your stomach and jaw was overwhelming. Despite your excessive training having desensitised you to a lot of pain, this was unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was like molten lava was flowing from the impact spots on your stomach and jaw. Tears began to gather in the corners of your eyes. How embarrassing.

Katsuki seemed to be in a similar situation if the pained groans echoing from across the training mat were any indication. 

“Shit, Sero get Mr Aizawa, you’re quicker than I am” you heard Kiri’s concerned tone over your own heavy breathing. 

“I’ll get recovery girl too”

You were full on sobbing now, wracked breaths forcing their way out of your chest. It felt like every cell in your body was burning up at once, exploding into themselves like a collapsing star. 

“Katsuki” you whimpered, reaching towards the man across the mat. 

“Kirishima, bring him here”

Kiri looked concerned at leaving you in this state, but it was clear what you needed at that moment. For some reason, your body was yelling at you to be closer to Katsuki, even if him beating you up had resulted in this in the first place. 

Rustling could be heard across the room from you and you found yourself thanking the gods for Kirishima and his strength. The view of the redhead cradling his friend's writhing body in his arms made your heart race slightly, hoping that Bakugou wasn’t in as much pain as you were. His teeth were gritted and his eyes seemed hazy, unable to focus on anything in the room. It looked to be exactly how you felt, but he was handling it slightly better it seemed. You sniffed some of your tears back. 

Kirishima laid Bakugou next to you and you felt the pain in your body let up slightly. The tugging in your cells didn’t cease until you managed to drag yourself to curl sluggishly into the crook of the blonde’s arm. His body smelt like it always did, slightly muskier maybe but the subtle aftershave and bonfire smell stuck around through almost anything. Your body was screaming at you to make some kind of contact but you couldn’t bring yourself to move an inch. The pain radiating from your body pulsed and writhed through your muscles like scalding water, twisting your body into a painful shape on the mat. 

A muffled screech escaped from between your gritted teeth but you managed to pull yourself half on top of Bakugou. Your head hit his chest and he grunted slightly at the impact. Incessantly, the pain throbbed on through your muscles. Stupid fucking Bakugou in his stupid nun-ish exercise wear. He may as well have gone all out and worn a habit. 

You grasped weakly at the tank covering his torso, only to find your grip not strong enough to move it any considerable distance. A groan echoed above you. Katsuki had seen your struggle and was moving one of his outstretched arms to curl around your bare shoulders. 

As soon as his skin made contact with yours it was like a cooling water poured through your body, soothing the intense ache and burning it had been feeling. You were finally able to draw a proper, painless breath into your aching lungs. Never again would you take that ability for granted. The pain hadn’t yet fully left your body, still sore like an old bruise. There was no way of telling what the damage actually looked like but you were sure it wasn’t good. 

The door of the gym slammed open, your capture-weapon clad teacher marching his way towards where your two bodies collapsed on the floor. Coughing weakly, you flitted your eyes up to meet his. The older man grumbled, sitting on the floor next to the two of you. 

“Why can’t you two go five seconds without getting into trouble?”

You chuckled weakly, still under the hostage of Bakugou’s arm. The man himself grumbled underneath you in a weak attempt at protest. 

“You think we do this shit on purpose?” he snapped, half-heartedly. 

“That or a cruel trick of fate,” Aizawa muttered. 

“A solid possibility,” you groaned, “but i’d rather it not be that”

The ensuing argument was interrupted by the arrival of recovery girl and a very out-of-breath Sero. The small woman pursed her lips at the two of you. Obviously, you were a sight to behold - a tangled pile of limbs and fabric breathing heavily on a training mat. It still felt like all of the energy had been zapped out of you, even if the pain was lessening more and more by the second. The tear tracks on your cheeks had dried out by now and were uncomfortable crusty on your face. You would definitely need a shower after this. 

“There’s nothing I can do here” 

Katsuki’s arm tensed around you and you could feel the snarl bubbling up his chest from where your head was laid. 

“What do you mean there’s noth-”

“You’re not injured” she stated, quite promptly, “there is nothing physically wrong with you for me to heal”

“Recovery girl” began Kirishima, “what happened then?”

It was clear seeing two of their close friends in pain had shook Kirishima and Sero up slightly. The taller man was leaning into Kirishima’s hold, gnawing at his lip. Kirishima, meanwhile, had wrapped one of his strong arms around Sero’s shoulders and was rubbing his hand up and down his arm comfortingly. You reached up to pat at Hanta’s leg, the closest attempt at comfort you could scrounge from your fatigued body. 

“Despite their quirk incident earlier this week, these two thought it would be smart to try and train with each other,” recovery girl explained. 

She sounded sick of your shit. Not that you blamed her. 

“And in doing that, they caused a quirk reaction”

You groaned. The explanation seemed so simple when it was laid out in front of you like that but it hadn’t even occurred to you not to spar Katsuki. The quirks' effects weren’t exactly wearing off, but the ache in your wrist where the girl had grabbed you had disappeared completely as you two had been staying close enough to one another. You supposed it was odd to forget about it but you only wanted to get back to training. 

“And in doing so, have shortened the distance allowed between them” 

“Oh my god” you groaned, thumping your head down onto the mat this time. 

“This would never have happened if you didn’t get so cocky,” Bakugou complained. 

You shot him a look as best you could from face down on the mat. 

“If you weren’t such a prick, I wouldn’t have responded like that in the first place, would I?” 

Aizawa leaned forward and pinched both of your ears. 

“Stop whining, you’re both at fault. Now go back to the dorms”

Both of you huffed like children being scolded by a nursery teacher. With Aizawa, it still felt like that sometimes, despite the fact you were now all technically pro heroes. Still, you rolled out from under Katsuki’s arm and tried your best to stand. 

In doing so, you leaned too far away from him and your wrist started flaring with the familiar burning sensation. You hissed and gripped the appendage, bringing it and yourself closer to Bakugou. 

You looked at your wrist in disbelief. 

“That was barely three feet” you whispered, meeting eyes with recovery girl. 

She tutted. 

“You made your own bed dear, time to lie in it”

taglist - @yizhoutv @champagnetvstes @lexmarine @shadowsingers-redhood @h0nestly-though @bby-chloe1999

sorry this one took so long! I was doing uni exams but I should be pretty much free (apart from work maybe) for the rest of the summer soooo! comment or send me an ask if you want on the taglist for the semblance series

I've also completed the first chapter of Kirishima's section of the choose your own path series so lmk if you want to be tagged in that! replies and reblogs are much appreciated muah >3<

#bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha imagine #bakugou imagine #bakugo imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugo katsuki imagine

[127luvr]

Hi can i ask for a male reader x doyoung, where they're both in school and they have an assignment to sing a duet, but doyoung just really chose m!r so that they can spend more time together. Then they kiss?

kiss ♫⋆｡♪ ₊

kim doyoung x male reader

doyoung had never questioned his life in music. he knew from a young age where he was headed--what path in life he wanted to pursue. he breathed music like it was his lifeline. it was the one thing in his life he never second-guessed. he knew he was good at it. at singing--at reading music--at conducting his class for an assignment--at teaching it when he became a student-teacher.

he was born for this.

you weren't as lucky.

the passion for music came from watching a performance of your school choir by chance. you were convinced that you were destined to pass by the auditorium at that very moment--destined to hear the way the ensemble blended their voices together so seamlessly--as if it was a body of water collectively sending waves to shore.

it was too late in the year to join the ensemble you heard, but you managed to squeeze in to one of the beginner classes. it was one of the things in life that you took seriously. staying after school for any extra help from upperclassmen. staying behind to see the rigorous practices that the advanced classes had. while you were graced with a natural talent for music, you still had so much to learn.

which is why you were the most excited when they assigned duets. the only strict rule being that it had to be someone that was in the choir program.

doyoung had taken a liking to you. watching you from the corner of his eye when you sat in one of their after-school practices. he watched the way your pencil followed along the sheet music as they sang, circling the dynamics on top--and underneath--the staff. he watched as your body followed the conductor's baton--watched as you sang along subconsciously to your voice part in the song. he knew without a doubt that he had to choose you for a duet.

he just wasn't entirely sure if it was for his own selfish reasons or for your raw talent.

"(y/n)?" you feel a light tap on your shoulder, the sudden sensation startling you. your binder slips out of your hands when you turn to doyoung, his nearness surprising you further. you can't help but gawk at him, ignoring the way your sheet music spills out of the binder on the floor. doyoung's eyes fall to the floor, his lips twitching slightly as he goes to pick it up for you. you are still watching him as he bends down, his long fingers quick with gathering your materials. you manage to look away as he straightens his posture again, holding his hands out to hand you your binder. "i know we aren't really familiar with each other, but did you want to team up for the duet assignment?"

he was one of the upperclassmen. one of the singers that stood out to you when you watched them practice. the critiques he received from directors were nitpick-y. always something about rounding out his vowels--looking more expressive. it was clear that they only picked on him for small things because they weren't able to find anything he was bad at. he didn't need to improve--but he did need to be pushed just like his classmates.

"yeah!"

you quickly realize that doyoung isn't in it for the music. he knows the song inside and out from the get-go. leaving you to scramble and learn the song even when you're not practicing together. this only makes you wonder what he was in it for. why he chose you of all people?

your practices were usually done in the school practice rooms. preferably one with an old piano in it--sometimes you weren't as lucky. but you watched as doyoung's eyes moved faster than his fingers, reading the music as he played the black and white piano keys. you were almost jealous of his talents. envious of his ability to multitask so effortlessly but he interprets your gaze differently. patting the space on the bench next to him so you could sit--instead of standing with your back to the wall, stiff.

"i like to learn the notes by playing them and then singing them. makes it easier to correct. do you want to try?" your hands hover over the keys, scared to play any of them incorrectly. if you were being honest, you only knew the name of the notes on your phone, where the keys were labeled. "here, i'll show you."

you don't expect doyoung to put his hands on top of yours, guiding them to where he was previously playing. but the piano is the last thing on your mind. instead, thoughts of doyoung's soft skin and dainty fingers replace any and all rational thoughts from your brain.

"the note in between these black keys is d. if you look at the piano you will notice that the pattern repeats over and over again, so the notes only go a, b, c, d, e, f and g. and then back to a. the black keys are semitones--flat or sharp. it just depends on what key we're in, you know?" doyoung finally takes note of your flushed face, his hands immediately clammy on top of yours as he watches you chew your bottom lip anxiously. "(y/n)? did you get any of that?"

"uh-"

"is there a way for me to keep you concentrated?" your gaze drops down to his pouty lips, subconsciously licking your own as you stare them down. this doesn't go unnoticed by doyoung--who has been yearning for your affection since your practices together started. "kissing you?"

for a moment you thought you had shared your thoughts out loud--only to find that your lips were still shut. doyoung was the first to bring up a kiss. that could only mean that he wanted to. that it crossed his mind before it crossed yours. he leans in, with his hands still on top of yours. you're aware of his nearness. the way his cool breath hits your cupid's bow. the way he smells like baby powder--and a little bit like sweat from being in this room for so long. your eyes finally meet again which causes him to tilt his head, raising his eyebrows as if to ask you for a second time.

"here?" but you're the first one to close the gap, the first to meet your lips together. completely disregarding the glass door. completely disregarding that someone might walk by. but none of it matters--not when doyoung's lips feel heavenly. and he's drinking you up like you're a glass of iced tea on a hot summer day. you almost don't want to pull away. wanting to stay in his warmth even if the positioning was awkward. "we can practice at my place next time."

#HELLOOOOO #im loving all of the doyoung requests #he's my little bunny #i was in choir for like 7+ years #my knowledge might be limited idk i miss learning about music #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct dojaejung #nct x male reader #x male reader #kim doyoung #doyoung x male reader #<3

[dr-trafalgar-law]

Trafalgar Law X CisFem Reader

1

The rich scent of coffee percolated through the small apartment kitchen. Preferring to keep the room dark only the tiny light above the stove was left on. The sun had yet to rise and judging by the pattering against the window above the sink it wouldn't matter anyway.

Bringing the hardly sweetened liquid to his lips Law did his best to keep anxious thoughts away. Usually these consisted of work related topics, things he needed to get done when he arrived at the hospital or patients that took priority. This particular morning you were prominent.

He thought back to a night in November. At the time you had been matched for a month and had very recently moved in together. He had been opposed to all of this arranged marriage nonsense from childhood. Forcing people to be together for procreation didn't seem healthy mentally. But the alternative was prison, so most people just went with it.

Then he met you and discovered how similarly you operated so he decided to learn more. You had been pretty forthcoming with your reluctance, almost offensively so. You also felt the need to explain that you had a previous relationship that ended abruptly because of the law and obviously weren't dealing with it in a healthy way.

That week you stayed late at the shop every night working on different orders. When he did see you, you were practically vibrating with nervous energy. So, the nightly ritual of visiting the shop started, at least until that Friday. When he had announced he was coming to the shop you told him you'd meet him at home, which you did arriving at the same time. Even in the chilly humid air he thought he caught the scent of cologne as you passed, chalking it up to the hoodie you must have borrowed from a coworker, as he had never seen it before. After showering you shared the meal he'd brought from the hospital. You didn't say much but somehow seemed at ease especially considering the project you had been working on. Perhaps finishing the cakes provided some sort of closure? No, Law couldn't be that naive. Something definitely happened, something you didn't want to share. However, at the time he wasn't compelled to press you for information. He wasn't sure that even now after nearly four months you'd come clean. It wasn't like you had grown any closer as a couple, and he didn't know if you ever would.

His ears perked hearing your bedroom door softly open and shut behind you. Finally, the smell of coffee had made it to your room inviting you into the kitchen. You rounded the corner in an old purple shirt with the collar cut out, so it hung off your left shoulder, a pair of black leggings and mismatched knee-high socks.

His silver eyes roamed over the dip of your exposed shoulder before swaying up to your yawning face. It amused him that from day one you had no problem looking like a straight up mess in front of him. Perhaps it was because you weren't interested or maybe you just weren't like other girls. No woman he'd ever slept with dared to be seen without makeup.

You wore makeup as well, but it was always tastefully done. Law had surprised himself finding that he preferred you without, he liked the very light olive toned semicircles under your eyes and the natural hue of your lips so much so that on occasion you caught him staring. Being unaware of this preference and very aware of his constant stern expression, you had not thought about the attention being out of attraction.

"Morning." You yawned again running your fingers through your tangled hair.

"F/N-ya." Your fiancé nodded bringing his cup back to his lips.

"Top you off?" you asked pulling your mug from the cupboard not bothering to turn on the lights.

"Big order this week?" Law asked leaning back to hand you his cup.

"No, just couldn't sleep. There isn't much going on today I might just stay here and get some things done." Now that you'd said more he noticed your voice was a bit hoarse.

He hummed turning to let his eyes trail over you, even in the dim yellow light of the stove your skin seemed pale and clammy. Carefully he watched you fix his cup of coffee with shaky hands and move on to your own. The shadows under your eyes had deepened slightly, it was probably nothing, but no one would die if he asked.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes doctor," you smirked handing his cup over, "just a restless night is all."

"Then It's best if you stay home." He affirmed sipping the strong brew.

Somehow it was always better when you made it, though you did it the exact same way he had, yours was something to savor.

"Is it good?" You asked in amusement.

"It's ok. Why?" was his curt reply.

"You hummed," you chuckled, "That means you like it."

Had he? When were you so observant?

"I did no such thing." He glanced away from your smug expression.

"Will you be home for dinner? I was thinking about cooking." The light from your phone caught his attention drawing his gaze back to your face.

"I can probably arrange that." He tried to sound nonchalant, but you caught the intrigue in his tone.

"Anything you'd like? It's been a while since I made something savory, but I can still throw down."

He raised a brow at your enthusiasm, "Whatever you'd like is fine."

"Sandwiches then?" You teased.

He rolled his eyes, "If you can really throw down, how about onigiri, Ms. Chef."

"That will require some research and a trip to the store, but I accept your challenge." You were already searching for recipes on your phone.

After sitting in silence for a few moments and finishing his second cup of coffee Law checked the time and rose from the table to place his mug in the empty sink.

"Seven o'clock." You murmured looking up to meet his stormy gaze.

"I'll do my best. Have a good day F/N-ya." He exited the kitchen, a few seconds later followed by the sound of the door locking from the outside.

After your short trip to the store, you returned home to stock the fridge and pantry. It was shameful how much time you avoided spending there. Only coffee, sugar and creamer sat in the kitchen, and there were still boxes stacked in a corner of the living room waiting to be unpacked. You intended to remedy that.

Moving into the common space you began opening boxes. They'd been there so long you didn't know if they belonged to you or Law. The first was heavy and filled with medical magazines and notebooks. Box two was full of novels, most of them adventure, and the smallest was yours full of framed pictures and photo albums.

You organized the magazines and novels on the empty bookshelf that lined the back wall, leaving Law's notebooks for him to sort. At the bottom of that box you found a small framed picture turned over. Carefully you plucked it from the box curiosity piquing as you flipped the silver frame over. Law hadn't had any pictures of family or friends that you knew of. Making a mental note to ask about that your gaze fell over an old photo of your fiancé. He couldn't have been more than ten, wearing a school uniform with a little yellow backpack hooked over his shoulders. Next to him crouched a tall blond man with shaggy bangs swept across his face and a cigarette pressed between his lips. You were sure he'd always had that attitude and judging from the look on his adolescent face you were correct. The man in the photo must have been his adopted father, whom he didn't talk much about.

You filled your day with little projects and finally got around to making dinner. It wasn't difficult, but it was time-consuming. You felt good about preparing something he had picked specifically. It was your job to make people happy through their appetites, but this for the moment muted the crippling guilt that had been plaguing you.

Seven turned to eight turned to nine o'clock. You covered dinner in plastic and placed it in the fridge before moving back to the living room to binge watch some shows you had missed. It was disappointing that Law hadn't arrived or returned your texts but you supposed that came with being a doctor.

                                                                                          ____________

Law walked in quietly shutting the door behind him, first noticing the pictures lining the hallway. He stopped at the photo of his eleven-year-old self with Corazon on the first day of sixth grade. You must've had a productive day. Feeling incredibly guilty he continued into the apartment greeted by the soft light of the tv, he hadn't even noticed you on the sofa buried in a mess of blankets until you gasped.

"Sor-" Law was cut off as more gasps left the now writhing blanket pile.

Removing his coat, he crouched down pulling the throws away quickly. Your body had curled up into itself as you tried desperately to catch your breath. In the natural motion to ball up you'd smashed yourself into the back of the sofa. His slim tattooed fingers wrapped firmly around your wrists as you clawed at your chest and throat.

"D-don't..." you rasped.

"F/N-ya," he started softly pulling you into him as he sat, "try to calm down."

"Trying." You shuddered grasping his hands trying to fend off your instinct to fight back.

Now your clammy skin and shaky hands that morning made sense to him.

He hummed cradling you while you cried and hiccupped still hooked into a fetal position. Being wrapped in his warmth and hearing his low soft voice helped you focus on your breathing. The dark abyss that had been enveloping you began to fade.

"I'm... I'm sorry." You stammered. 

#trafalgar d law x reader #closure #x reader #one piece #trafalgar law #lyndsyh24 #heart pirates #marco the phoenix #18+ mdni #mdni #slow burn

[not-handsome-enough]

DICK KNUBBLER MAYE STILL BE ALIVE

Kinda

Alright before I do anything take this with a grain of salt, cause it’s probably a continuity error / can be easily explained away BUT if you all would like to hold onto some hope please just hear me out. And also it offers a question for yall.

Alright! So!

On twitter someone had asked Brendon and Gene about Murmaider III and its placement on Dethalbum IV ( which btw shoutout to Gene’s wife that was brilliant ) and Brendon had mentioned that what sets 3 apart from the other two was that it was more dreamlike, and that it was made AFTER Army of the Doomstar. Now since Brendon and Gene weren’t the ones to make the order on the Album we can’t set a timeline for the songs ( though they are set in Brutal to Dreamlike order once again shoutout to Genes wife you goddess ) we can at least say that some songs were made post Army. In fact we could also make some assumptions about what songs were made DURING army. So I’ll separate that list here.

NOTE : YALL DONT NEED TO READ THIS PART THIS IS JUST ME RUNNING WITH “ some songs were made post AOTD which ones could they be teehee “ JUST KNOW MURMAIDER AND SOS WERE AFTER KUBBLER DIED OK SORRy I’m not deleting that whole thing I like it

Songs with “ * “ are canon, the rest are personal interpretation.

DURING ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Aortic Desecration ( the first song of salvation but obviously not )

* SOS ( song of salvation )

Gardener of Vengeance ( Nathan directly references this during the scene where he confides in the band and Knubbler that he doesn’t write songs about hope and he’s just doing what he knows. I believe he wrote and recorded this but felt it wasn’t good enough to be the song of salvation and moved on. HOWEVER the language he used could place this as post AOTD because it sounds more like a thrown out there example kinda like how he figured out SOS in the cave )

Poisoned By Food ( Again I think this is a scrapped song of salvation since besides the actual poisoning of food a lot of the imagery feels like the what the metalocalypse was described like )

BLOODBATH ( guess what another scrapped song of salvation. This one feels like a ‘you don’t scare me I’m going to confidently stop you because if I go down you go down with me’ song. Also it could be Nathan trying to reach out to Magnus since he was one of the people on his list. Also quick note I’m going song by song so I don’t know if I’ll notice if any other songs would reflect the list I just got out of work so I’m not gonna catch it all rn )

Horse of Fire ( this is tricky because lyrics like star still blazing allude to this being written before aortic desecration but also Nathan didn’t have the talk with the whale until the deadline came up in which he had to go with aortic desecration <he wouldn’t have had time to write about the fist or the hand.> But the lyrics don’t have the <we should reach out to the fans> revelation that SOS has. Maybe this was a draft for SOS but I think once Nathan figured out what SOS was meant to be it just came to him naturally. I’m not sure. HOWEVER since the doomstar is referred to as a star that is still blazing and not a portal that’s been destroyed it’s safe to say this is not post AOTD. Either way this is an important song to keep in mind if you look at this speculating )

POST ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Murmaider III ( stated by Brendon Small in the interview. He said he feels that the boys would have written this after AOTD and based off of interviews he’s had in the past about his songwriting process it’s hard to not take this as canon so. )

DEADFACE ( I think this is post because while the song plays during the movie only Skwisgaar knew about the possession so the lyrics wouldn’t quite make sense yet. It’s a tricky placement but I can see Skwisgaar playing around with it since he does play the notes during the movie )

Mutilation on a Saturday Night ( this feels so much like a we survived so now we’re gonna party song I can’t see Nathan Skwisgaar or Pickles make an argument for this being a Song of Salvation. Also all the fucked up shit they talk about references what happened during the metalocalypse but it’s spoken in past tense like a ‘hey we fucked shit up but we fixed it so now we’re just gonna keep fucking around haha’)

I am The Beast ( simply cause I don’t see this as something Nathan would write during AOTD but the ‘ I am a beast this is my domain and when I speak you scream my name ‘ could work as a salvation line but it feels too much like a Mutilation Saturday Night ‘I can write whatever I want cause I lived and I’m not gonna hold back’ vibe )

Satellite Bleeding ( this feels like the first song they would have written and recorded after the doomstar died. Kinda like watching the sky clear up after a storm. )

Now despite me rambling on about this I would like to draw attention to what’s canon. Specifically SOS and Murmaider III. These songs came out after Knubbler died. Yet Dethalbum IV credits Knubbler for production.

Drawing your attention to how crediting in the Dethalbum works, each album has a little section for Dethklok to get musical credits and thank whoever and whatever. There’s also production credit and location credit. On ALL of the Dethalbums Knubbler is credited as producer. Cause he’s the producer makes sense yeayeyaeyah. But whenever there’s a change in location or production, there’s additional credits.

ANOTHER NOTE: I DONT HAVE THE KLOK OPERA CD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CREDITING SYSTEM LOOKS LIKE ON THERE but if someone happens to be selling that cd outside of eBay please let me know

Let’s look at them.

Dethalbum I ^

Shit ton of credits right, and on the other page which I didn’t take a picture of and can’t because I’m not home at the moment there’s credit to Snakes N Barrels for “Kill You�� with each member listed. Take note that songs that are considered exceptions are credited differently and locations not at Mordhaus are credited.

I lied I have the other page. For those without the dethalbum cds the actual credits are usually on another page and “Kill You” got mixed in with it

Anyways

Dethalbum II

Hey Knubbies gets to thank someone this time! Anyways once again Knubbler is credited for production, but also Dethklok. Keep this in mind. Also the fact that different location credited for Murmaider II but it’s recorded at Mordhaus

Dethalbum III

Knubbler credit AND Abigail credit along with Dethklok AND once again location credit is Mordhaus and another fuckass place. Only thing that’s not really credited is Magnus with The Hammer but idk if he was like Toki and William where they play the songs but don’t really write or if he actually wrote The Hammer. I’m not a HammerHead, I’ve seen people interpret him as both, but at the end of the day idrk.

So what about Dethalbum IV

Knubbler is credited. At Deus Keep. Only Knubbler. Only at Deus Keep. “But he’s not credited as a Producer” True! If the album was released in universe it would probably be a producer credit. Especially since Brendon and Ulrich have Producer credit on the page prior. Maybe it’s because Knubbler didn’t make it to the final production stage. Or maybe he’s staying hidden undercover..

Remember earlier. He canonically was not around for two of these songs on this album. He could not have recorded OR mixed SOS or Murmaider III. Even if you don’t fully think that Murmaider III was made Post AOTD, SOS was done post Knubbler death. Hell, the song was dedicated to him by William! But there’s no separate credit for SOS.

If we went on the same basis as previous albums SOS would have been credited to that part of Norway where they traveled to that I forgot the name of and I’m not gonna look up but you get the point. Or even Dethklok would have been credited as production. I could also say something about how Murmaider III wasn’t recorded in the Mariana Trench and how the whale isn’t calling to Nathan anymore but that’s for another day. Right now though, it’s just Knubbler. Just Knubbler and Deus Keep.

Which leads to 3 possibilities.

Knubbler Lives: Knubbler survived ( the flashing things on the ground were teleporters ) and Deus Keep is rebuilt. To celebrate their survival they make Dethalbum IV but don’t release it

Knubbler Died: The band recorded the last few songs on the album at the remains of Deus Keep. Knubblers presets aren’t changed so credit remains to him. Once again not releasing it.

It’s not an album: Dethalbum IV doesn’t exist in universe. That’s why there’s no producer credit. That’s why Nathan doesn’t thank the klokateers ( he thanks the army of the doomstar which is just him thanking fans ). Dethklok recording it post AOTD is more to do with how Brendon records dethalbums than in universe writing.

I like to think that this is just an unreleased album in universe since the record label is more than likely destroyed, but it has the possibility of releasing one day if society is rebuilt to what it once was. But it really depends on if you think the album is canon to the universe. Cause there’s no Mordhaus credit on Dethalbum IV and there’s no way for SOS to have been recorded at Deus Keep and blablabla

something fun to think about tho yk?

TLDR: two songs on dethalbum IV were made after Knubbler death yet the credit doesn’t change for him in the dethalbum so there’s a chance that he recorded and mixed those songs cause he is alive and well horray

#metalocalypse #take this with a massive grain of salt #take it with a rock of salt tbh #dick knubbler #I’m rambling like crazy but :( #also I just noticed on dethalbum IV it’s the first time Murderface isn’t placed last in credits #I’ll be honest if Knubbler wasn’t credited at all on dethalbum IV I would have cried very much #I FORGOT TO SPOILER THIS I AM SO SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR SPOILER #SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Assuming you'd be willing to: How does Butch react/act when realizing he might be crushing on the Male!Lone Wanderer? Either while they're both still in the vault or after the Lone Wanderer returns from the Wastes

Butch's Reaction to Crushing on a M!Lone

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » Butch is mean ➼ Genre » Romantic

It pisses him off when he first starts to notice how he feels for you. I imagine he represses his romantic feelings for men like crazy and realizing that he’s slowly developing a crush on you, of all people, makes him want to punch a hole in the wall.

He’ll be even crueler to you now; spitting on you, jumping you in the Vault hallways, and threatening to carve his initials into your skin with his pocket knife. He hopes that it’ll force his desires away. Maybe if you hate him enough he’ll finally just let it go, but, to his dismay, it never happens.

It becomes obvious very quickly that something deeper within him is causing him to be like this. The other Tunnel Snakes will also start noticing how much he seems to like picking on you compared to anyone else in the Vault.

The day you leave is the day he shatters. Of course, you’re the one who has to leave. He’ll pretend to be happy about finally being rid of you, but deep down he’s worried you won’t make it. You’re smaller than him, weaker than him, and never had been one to fight back... how would you ever survive on the surface?

He can’t help the way his eyes light up when he spots you entering the Muddy Rudder. He doesn’t even bother hiding the smile that slowly tugs at his lips as he waves you over to the bar, praying you won't cringe at the sight of him and leave.

He’ll act as if you guys had been friends for years. He’ll toss his arm loosely around your shoulders and order you a drink, asking about your time in the wasteland. However, his friendly demeanor will shift once he sees how awkward you act around him.

He doesn’t bring up how he used to treat you - he doesn’t know if he can - but he’ll, at the very least, try to make an effort toward earning your trust.

He follows you whether you want him to or not. He may still be a tad naive about what exists in the wasteland, but he’s not naive enough to recognize the dangers. The last thing he wants is for you to die, especially if it happens before he can confess to you.

He’s gentler toward you now. Those few months after you’d set off to find your dad had killed him, and he wants to make an active effort to show how much he’s missed you and how much he wants to be around you.

He’ll slowly start to do things that boyfriends traditionally do. He’ll offer to carry some of your heavier items, open doors for you, and even pay for meals when you both find a settlement to eat out at.

He also becomes extremely protective over you. You can see the hatred and jealousy boiling in his eyes whenever he spots someone touching you or standing too close. It eats at him even more knowing he can’t say anything because you two aren’t officially together.

Some of his old habits still linger. Occasionally, he’ll grab your face to make you look at him or, stick his foot out and trip you while you walk. It’s just in his nature.

Although, he does try to make it up by offering to clean up your hair for you. Free of charge. Either because he’s noticed it’s been growing out or it’s gotten dirty during the days you’ve spent traveling. Besides, he likes being able to take care of you like this.

It kills him that he can’t seem to find it within himself to just tell you about how he’s feeling, or even just apologize for how he treated you while you both were in the Vault.

It’ll become more and more obvious that he’s interested in you, but he refuses to be the one to say it. You’ll have to make the first move in the relationship because his pride won’t let him be in love with another man. Especially, if there’s a chance he may be rejected.

#fallout #fallout 3 #fo3 #butch deloria fo3 #butch deloria x lone #butch fo3 #butch deloria #butch x lone wanderer #butch x m!lone #butch deloria x m!lone #M!lone #M!Lone wanderer #lone fo3 #lone wanderer fo3 #lone wanderer #butch deloria headcanons #fallout headcanons #fallout 3 headcanons #fo3 headcanons

[emjiroki]

I'm thinking about Mafia Bodyguard! Eijro and I'm too busy to write another fic so....

18+ under the cut

@2dsimpomg thank you for encouraging this idea

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who finds himself falling more in love with you every day. But he keeps it to himself and keeps your relationship professional and friendly. Katsuki might have his head if he did otherwise.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who is tasked with keeping you safe whenever Katsuki can't be around, which can be a lot sometimes when things are particularly busy and Eijiro isn't cracking someone skull.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who's big and tall and handsome with his naturally jet black hair and both arms sleeved in tattoos. Women falling all over themselves for him isnt something uncommon to see but he's only got eyes for one person. You. And he knows it might be his downfall but doesn't really care.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who's a teddy bear to you, so caring and attentive, and would never even say a harsh word to you if he could help it. But with other people it's... different. After living and dealing in the criminal underground throughout his early twenties, he's done alot of things that would chill you to the bone. Where you see his pearly grin, others see the teeth of a shark ready for blood.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who one time while Katsuki was out of town and he was helping watch the house for security, had to coax you out of crying when you were a little too tipsy on wine and tried to make a move on him and he rejected you. Thinking you might not remember this anyway, he confessed how beautiful he thought you were and how it would be the best night of his life if he could. But it wasn't right. Not without Katsuki knowing.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who was pleasantly surprised to be invited for dinner not too long after Katsuki returned home. The dinner going well with him and Katsuki discussing business after with drinks in his office.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who after about two glasses of brandy watched with his softly lidded ruby eyes as you made your way into the office, interrupting the conversation to sit in Katsuki’s lap and steal a drink from his glass. Eijiro adjusted himself in his seat when he saw your lips moving sensually down Katsuki’s jaw to his throat, going back up to whisper something in his ear.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who tries to hear what you're saying to the blonde but not able to catch it before Katsuki chuckles a laugh. "Being a dirty little slut tonight huh? Fine if it's cool with him". Eijiro doesn't know what to say or think when you leave Katsuki’s lap to sink to your knees in front of him, nuzzling your face into his thigh. "Will you fuck me Eijiro? Please?"

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who can only nod and make a soft confirming noise in the back of his throat before his big hands were down around your waist, pulling you up to straddle him. He wasted no time in kissing you, wanting to do it for so long that he bad to suppress a groan when he felt your soft lips. Your tongue brushing his lips until he finally opened and he felt you moan against his tongue.

Mafia Bodyguard Eijiro! Who's left hand is on your ass and his right his softly kneading your breast as your pent up emotions poured through the sloppy kiss. Until Katsuki cleared his throat and had you both freezing.

"Before this goes too far let me make myself another drink and we'll go to the bedroom" he said, rising from his leather chair and going over to the mini bar, "that's where my nice chair is and I want to see this".

Should I do the smut scene? Questions...

#help this possessed me #i had to get this out of my head #hes so hot #mafia bodyguard kirishima #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x reader #em writes ✍ #em talks 👄

[chryblossomjjk]

the thought of not seeing them for 18 months hurts my heart fr

#sigh #like im so sad lmao #im so sad for them #it’s gotta be so tough #to just #completely change your life in an instant #for nearly two years #i hope they all do okay mentally and physically #i love them so much wow #and like #im so sad that this little community on the web of people who enjoy them will slowly fade #not that bts is going to lose popularity or what not just #it’s natural for people to move on to other things in the time being #bc the lack of content or interaction yk #oof im so attached to them #and im so attached to yall lol #i don’t want to lose this community #i don’t want them to struggle or be unhappy #this is a lot lmao #anywho #love you guys and if you need to talk im here #love them so much and will be longingly looking out a window until 2025 lol

[softshuji]

y'know it's a night when hal sits and eats cereal in the dark room at 1.30am.

#i was thinking abt it earlier #but i've been crying so much lately like so much. almost every second day if not every day and i dont know why #actually i do kinda know why. #i think im hitting my limit with a lot of things and one of them is my parent dumping their problems on me #earlier today my mom told me again abt the whole debacle with my dad cheating on her multiple times and everyone knows i find this subject #too much for me i dont tlike to think about it or anything and im so tired of hearing it and especially when i lived through it trust me i #was literally there the whole cheating subject is very raw to me for many reasons and im just tired of being the emotional dump so often #especially because she always comes to me for everything all the time and im so sos tire d #everyone always tells me i should consider my own needs as a person and its okay to have them and yk in theory i agree with this but i just #cant. i grew up not having any needs met so how can i let myself have them now it makes me feel absolutely awful with myself to even #consider having to ask for something off someone and yet i know how wrong this is iknow needa and desires and wants are natural #but mine have always been on the back burner for everyone else. so its' no surprise ive let myself think im something to be used for other #peoples sake. whether that be physically or emotionally and especially the latter. because thats how i see myself someitmes. something #something to make people feel betetr about themselves that has no use outside of how i make them feel - just something to use until they #move onto the next best thing. something more entertaining and better value whatever that might mean something with less feelings less #sensitive. it feels like sometimes thats what i am. the indestructible never breaking hal that somehow has a solution to everything and can #always be there to fix every issue and is there to make people feel better but needs nothing in response #and god it really does feel like my problems dont mean anything to anyone #it does feel like no one thinks theyre worth anything #not worth listening to not worth thr same attention etcetc and yknow what i hate hate hate asking for attention and yet i get upset when i #feel like im not actually being heard or listened to #and i find it happens so often. sometimes i wanna hear it just once for once i wanna hear 'hey its okay to be upset i wish i could hug you' #or something like that god i dont want to be strong and nursing my wounds in private anymore #god i want a hug so bad and someone to just let me cry on them just once i want to be held and told someones got me instead of me doing it #for everyone else all the time #is thisselfish? it feels selfish to say #this is why it affects me so deeply whenever anyone does validate me or tells me its ok to want things or that im loved or anything nice #god i cant handle niceness at all it feels like it knocks me so bad it takes me ages to recover #and yet somehow all i can tell myself is that theyre only saying nice things because theyre being obligated to and not becayuse they feel #like they actually like me

[crow-in-springtime]

Horatio in one of those stories where the main character does anything and everything to prevent the death of a loved one.

I just think it would be neat

#me when other people write Horatio being in pain: HOW could you DO THAT to him?! HAS HE NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH 😭😣☹️ #me when I write Horatio being in pain: Teehee 🤭 #sometimes you just gotta break time and space and all of natural law just to be with someone you love #and I know the lesson is always supposed to be “you have to let people go but that doesn’t mean everything is over” #but fuck that I think Horatio could successfully pull it off #autism be damned my boy can love someone so much that he will hold off death itself #<- it was funnier in my head #hamlet #horatio #there’s probably a specific name for this but I can’t remember it at the moment. kinda like wandavision or alice by heart #“I won’t let them move you on / play you like some ghostly pawn / oh we’ll hold the still blue dawn” that sort of thing #well I wouldn’t want Horatio to succeed actually cause then it defeats the whole purpose of the trope as a whole and also I like suffering. #but like you understand. I think. I kinda lost track of what I was saying 7 sentences ago. #“yeah this sounds good post it” someone who should not be allowed internet access after 10 pm or before 7:30 am (me) #god this has been in my drafts for ages and I’ve forgotten what I even meant but I’m sure it was a good coherent idea at one point #ky’s gallery

[wysteriate]

The fact that Alucard has telekinesis drives me fucking bonkers

#stuff and nonsense #seriously who needs this many powers #besides being super strong and fast and having killer reflexes #he also can hypnotize/mind control people and they'll be happy to do what he says #and he can fucking. move things with his mind. #hirano really said 'what if i just gave alucard any power i want at any given time' #and honestly im both here for it and driven insane by it #some of his powers feel like natural extensions of common vampiric things #and others make me go HUH