#long weekend is over don't expect art from me for a while

[corxoran]

baby barok and his 2nd fav prosecutor

#asogi kazuma #asougi kazuma #kazuma asogi #kazuma asougi #barok van zieks #tgaa #dgs #the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #i love itty bitty barok #when he turns back kazuma uses this against him #show your uncle some respect! #barok considers quitting and fleeing the country #barok kazuma worsties #as mootie said #cork art #long weekend is over don't expect art from me for a while

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

[thesecretcornerintheroom]

Study Dates & Icing🧁

Pairings: Dean Thomas x Black female reader

Warnings: Smut 🔞 ,Semi public sex, Unprotected sex.(Wrap it up girlies also it’s been a while but I wanted to do a part two to my fluffy blurb hope y’all enjoy)

18+

Word count: 2,111

“No, Ronald, when making an Armoretia, you're supposed to put Pearl dust, not fairy wings,” I said as I gently smacked him over the head with my book. “Ow, if you want me to learn, then maybe you shouldn’t beat my knowledge out,” Ronald said with a quick, sassy voice as he rubbed his head. “Ronald Weasley, if me tapping you on the head makes. You lose memory, then you lost all your senses a long time ago running around with Harry and Hermonie”, I said, laughing. “Would you please not be so loud? I’m trying to study,” said Hermonie, flipping through her textbook aggressively. “You always study, " said Harry dismissingingly. We were currently in the library studying for our position exam, and it was a quiet afternoon in Hogwarts with the students roaming the hallways after class, going to the dining hall or to their rooms to bring an end to the weekend. Harry was here “studying” too but was severely worried about the tournament. Hermione and Ron made up since the Yull ball, and the gang is now in the library trying to ace our potion class. Hermonie rolled her eyes and asked out loud, “You think the potion is gonna tell us who our heart desires?” she said curiously. “I don't see why not. This potion is older than Ron's suit from the Yull ball,” causing the table to laugh.”very funny,” said Ron sarcastically, nudging me and then laughing.

“What do you smell, Hermonie asked y/n As the aroma of the potion lingered in the air, my memory came alive. You felt his lips against yours, and your lips and his danced together perfectly. All eyes were on me as I raised the small vale to my nose; I breathed in the scent I smelled. You feel his fingers adding pressure to your hips. His hands started lowering, and the kiss deepened. “it smells warm and cozy, like cashmere. I also smell like citrusy undertones but also clean, I said.” Looking at Hermione, her face meets mine, puzzled. “Mhmmm,” said Professor Slughorn, “ringing any bells.” I didn't have to dig far in my memory; I knew it was Dean. I believe that night, he had some of the orange punch from the ball. Shaking my head, I responded, “No,” knowing that there was one person in class staring at me intensely, and it wasn't Hermonie.

“Hey, y/n, “I heard as I was leaving class, embarrassed of my reaction to the potion we did in class. I turned around, expecting it to be Ron or Harry, but it was Dean. I haven’t talked to Dean since the night of the Yull ball. “Hi, Dean,” I said, trying to sound normal. “What do you need to say?” “Uh, remember how I asked, do you wanna get some butter beer? We haven’t talked much since,” said Dean very calmly. “Oh, I can’t. I have to study”. You said you and Hermonie took your grades seriously, so if that meant not hitting the town on the weekends and going to Hogsmeade but staying in a quiet library room with nothing but the sound of your quill, you would do that (a small part of u is avoiding the charming and warm Dean Thomas) “oh” he said nodding his head. His tone was kind of soft but worried. “how about I bring us something from the food hall, and We study.” he gestures between both of us. “I fell behind in my dark arts assignment,” he said, looking at your face, hoping you would cave.

As you expected, the library was empty. No one was in there but the rows of books and the notes forming in your notebook. Dean had just got back from the food hall. “nothing fancy, grab some chips (French fries), mini hand pies., and for some dessert, as a reward, some cupcakes,” Dean said as he placed the food on the table “hand pies and fries” “there’s no nutritional value huh?” I said, giggling. “Well, I was thinking if we both truly study, we could get out of here and time and get something to eat at the pub.” I looked at him and grinned, feeling my face become hot. “always the persistent one,” I said, grinning

Hours passed, and I studied for potions. Now I was helping Dean sitting on the table, kicking my legs, sitting beside Dean. I was becoming restless. Usually, I study by myself. Taking a bite of my cupcake, I asked the following question in the textbook: “What spell can be used to block the killing spell?” I said, licking my lips to get the vanilla frosting off. “Dean, in heavy concentration, “Is it ava kredavra,” he said, looking at me. “Trick question, it’s nothing. There is no spell to block the killing spell”, I said. Dean sighed and stood before me, “Let’s make this interesting,” he said, arms crossed. “For every question I get right, you owe me a kiss,” he said. “Uh-huh,” I said, “and what do I get out of this?” Dean grinned. He was now towering over me, taking his thumb and swiping my lip, which caused me to gasp as he took his thumb and licked the icing off of it. “you’ll get the title of the best tutor,” he said after he licked his thumb,—causing me to giggle “deal,” I said knowing I was digging myself a hole that I didn't know if I wanted to get out of.

“Okay, next,” I said, picking up the textbook. “Dementors feed on happy or bad memories.” “easy, happy,” he said, grinning. “You are correct,” I said, smiling shyly. “Uh-huh,” he said as he grabbed my chin and pecked my lips. “That was easy. WHAT'S next?” I grinned, “described a Swedish snout,” I said, knowing I would trip him up. His hands were now on my thighs, rubbing them slowly. “ah there, blue and grey,” he said, going in for another kiss, “aht, hat what else I said, stopping him from leaning in. “your missing something?” they have” I say slowly his eyes widen “and Spikes!Spikes!” “Yes, there u go,” I said as I leaned, kissing him, deepening the kiss more, my hand on the back of his neck. I felt his hand going up my thigh. I broke away, catching my breath. “exactly,” I said. “now what next.” I said, looking at the textbook. I could feel Dean's eyes looking at my face, inspecting all my imperfections. He could count each of my eyelashes if he wanted to. His body was radiating heat. His hands were on my thigh, his thumb slowly rubbing my skin back and forth. Clearing my throat, “Thestrals can only be seen by,” I asked, trying to regain my thoughts. “People who have seen death,” said Dean before I could tell him he was correct. he leaned in and kissed me harder. I could feel his one hand creep up my thighs while the other tightened on my waist.

Before you ask, yes, where in a library making out, and no, that’s not okay, but it feels so right. I grab him and pull him closer to me. I don’t know when he was standing in between my legs, but I don’t mind any of the less. I could feel him trying to pull away. As he was kissing me, “Keep going,” I said as I pecked him. “only if you want to,” I said, looking at his eyes. Dean's lips swollen and cheeks flushed, shook his head in approval. His mouth became agape as I started rubbing him. My hands were now in his pants, moving slowly back and forth, tauntingly slow. Dean's breath started to speed up. His moans were coming out slow and low. “I want you to feel this good,” he said, grabbing his hand and removing it from my pants. Placing the hand back on the table, he grabbed my hip and moved me forward. Now I was at the edge of the table, his lips on my neck, kissing them quickly, his hand going under my sweater and moving my bra. He pinched my nipples, causing me to moan in satisfaction. my mouth was now open, loving the feeling of him kissing me and touching me. “You’re doing good, but I’m going to need more,” he said as he ran a slow circle on my nipple.he was kissing my neck, his breath, and his teeth nibbling on my skin, causing a sensation I couldn’t quite explain. While he was kissing my neck, he pushed my skirt up, bunching it on my hips. His thumb went right to rubbing my clit, my mouth open widely “fuck fuck, please.” “Shh shh,” he taunted against my ear. “This is the library. You have to be quiet,” he said as he rubbed my clit harder over my panties.

I could feel every part of my body coming undone. Things were getting wet as he rubbed harder, my panties soaked. “come on, good girl, I know you can open up a little more for me.” He grabbed my throat, catching the next Moan before it was released. My legs widened more, welcoming him more, feeling my stomach tightening. “Please, please I said breathily as he placed his lips on mine. He was breathing me in my moans, my kisses, my pleads. I was melting away in his hands on this table in the library. “Not until you say thank you,” he says as he leans in more, his hand pushing my panties to the side. He put two of his fingers in a spade of me, causing me to moan the feeling of being full. That sensation was taking over my body. I started to grind against his fingers, meeting his rhythm. Throwing my head back, my core was tightening. “I’m finna cum” I said, eyes closed, focusing on the feeling. “Not until u say thank you.” he stops pulling out, taking away the sensation. I open my eyes to see him unzipping his pants. His breath was still fast; he looked at me. Fumbling with his pants zipper clumsily, he halted.

“We can wait i wait if you want. It doesn’t have to be here.” Dean turned back to Sweet, warm him agin. Causing me to smile. “No, I wanna enjoy the gift,” I said, grabbing his dick and going back in forth on it, causing his knees to buckle to lean forward and moan. Taking his dick, I placed it at the entrance before I could say anything; Dean pushed his way in, causing both of us to moan. I gripped the table's edge, and Dean's gripping tightened on my hips. Here, we were in the middle of a library, and the only thing protecting us was the rows of books. Dean's hips snapped forward, causing me to wrap my arm around his neck and bring him forward to sink into me more. Dean's hips are going in and out of me at a slow rhythm. He was grunting in my ear while I was panting, and my nails were scratching his back. His hips met mine, causing the table to shake and the books to rustle. “You feel so good,” he said as I kept moaning. “ fuck don’t stop,” I said. His hand left from gripping my thighs, his finger making contact with my clit, causing me to moan on his shoulder. “What do we say he bites out as he snaps his hip” I am feeling him rubbing my clit and entering me over and over again. My senses went numb from pleasure. The table moves with each movement. The words fell from my mouth, “Thank you, thank, thank you, ugh fuck thank you” I could feel how close I was; I could feel the Cole in my stomach again, the heat in my body. I bit his shoulder, causing him to grunt and go faster. “You’re so perfect” was the last thing I heard before I came to him and the table. I cast my eyes, looking up at the ceiling. Moans fell from my mouth, and my legs were shaking. Dean's hips were rocking into mine slower as I felt my inside become warm. He was rubbing my back while I was still shaking in his arms. He was panting in my ear as he held me close, still inside of me, rubbing my back. We need to have more study dates just like this.

#dean thomas x reader #imagine #harry potter imagine #smut #Dean Thomas smut #alfred hitchcock #this was fun #black #reader #x black reader #black female reader

[lovelyleclercs]

Chapter Seven- Guilty Tears

Arthur Leclerc x Sofia Sine

->goodbye's have never been so hard for Arthur and Sofia, but this goodbye in particular held so much more behind it.

warnings: mentions of cancer, fighting cancer alone, mentions of death, I think that's it but please let me know if there is anything else, I don't know how cancer treatments actually go, I only ever heard of bits and pieces so if anything is wrong, I am sorry, I'm writing a fictional story regardless.

word count: 1500

a/n: I sobbed writing this one, sorry bestie boos

Seven days post treatment and Sofia was finally feeling somewhat normal again. 

This past treatment had taken a toll on her, knocking her off of her feet for five days straight- only waking up to go to the bathroom or to try to get some food and water in her system. 

Despite only sleeping most days, Arthur had never left her side once. Every time Sofia woke up, Arthur was in her bed, at her desk doing work, or even sitting on the floor reading a book. 

Sofia had told him countless times that he didn’t have to stay- that there were far more interesting things he could be doing than being cooped up in an apartment with her all week long while she slept her treatment pains away- but Arthur insisted on staying. 

When Sofia had finally been able to keep her eyes open for longer than an hour at a time, the two of them would watch a movie, talk about the upcoming F2 season, and eat food as long as Sofia could stomach it. 

Sofia had appreciated Arthur’s company, it made the idea of treatments and recovery just a little bit more bearable, though she knew it wouldn’t last for long. 

In a weeks time, the F2 season would be underway and Arthur would be home less and less, meaning that she would have to attend her treatments alone, recover from them alone, and fight off this horrible illness alone. 

The thing she hated the most about it though was the fact that she would be unable to attend any of the races this year- at least not for the first half of the season. 

Due to the intensity and side effects of her treatment, Dr. M had put Sofia on a strict no traveling ban. 

Thankfully though, F2 did race in Monaco and she would be able to see parts of the track from her bedroom window, but that wasn’t the same as attending a grand prix weekend with him. 

When Arthur came into Sofia’s room late that Wednesday night, she knew it was him coming to say goodbye. Arthur would be gone for three weeks, having no time to fly back home and visit in between race weekends. 

Sofia looked up from her book and saw Arthur standing in the doorway of her room, his face holding an expression of sadness and sorrow- almost as though he felt guilty for having to leave her. 

Arthur smiled sadly, walking over to her bed before sitting on the edge of it and picking up her hand gently. “I’ve gotta go… my flight leaves in an hour”

Sofia put her book down and nodded a little, her eyes meeting his for a moment. “Ok, have fun, I’ll be watching every session, you know that” 

Arthur nodded and looked down at their hands as he felt himself getting emotional. “I’m sorry I won’t be here for your next treatment… I really tried to get some time off to fly here for the day but it’s just not possible…”

Sofia squeezed his hand a little and nodded. “It’s ok, Art. I understand. You’ve got a busy season this year, I can’t expect you to be here with me 24/7 nor can I expect you to be able to come with me to every appointment”

Arthur sighed and shook his head “This isn’t fair, Sof. You should be coming with me. You should be with me for my first F2 race” 

Sofia teared up a little, the realities of how much this disease was truly taking from her finally hitting her. Arthur would never have a first F2 race again. She would be missing out on the start of what could potentially land him a seat in Formula 1- and she hated it. 

“I know, Arthur. I know…” she whispered, her voice beginning to crack as a few tears managed to slip down her face. 

Arthur pulled Sofia into a tight hug, not knowing what else to say or do. He hated the fact that he couldn’t even sit with her for very long-he was on a strict time schedule and this goodbye was already taking way longer than he had time for. “I’ve gotta go, but please know that I love you and that I'm here for you, even if I'm thousands of miles away, ok?”

Sofia nodded and pulled from the hug “I know, Arthur. I love you too”

Arthur sighed and let go of Sofia’s hand, pushing himself off of the bed as he made his way towards the door.

Sofia stared down at her fidgeting hands, already missing the hold Arthur’s hand had on them just seconds prior. Tears were falling down her face, a few drops landing on her hands in front of her. Silent cries, ones that she was hoping Arthur wouldn’t notice. She hadn’t expected this goodbye to be so hard- goodbyes were something her and Arthur were used to- but this one held so much more behind it. 

It meant she would be alone for the next three weeks- Nobody to hold her while she suffers through her treatment, nobody to wake her up just to try to get her to eat or drink, nobody to keep her company when she felt alone or sad

It meant missing out on seeing Arthur start his F2 career, something he had longed for and dreamed of ever since signing his F3 contract two years ago. 

But the one thing that weighed on her the most was the possibility that maybe this was the last time she’d ever see Arthur.

What if something happened when he was gone and she didn’t make it? The last memory she had of him would be that sad, guilt ridden face as he apologized for doing what he loved. 

Arthur turned around as he was about to walk out of her bedroom. He didn’t fail to notice the few tears dripping off of her face and onto her hands, nor did he fail to notice the way her breathing had increased despite her being able to keep her cries silent. His heart broke at the sight before him, knowing that he was partially to blame for the tears falling. 

Without saying another word, Arthur walked out of the room, knowing that even though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, he didn’t really have a choice. 

He got out to the car, climbing into the back seat as Charles and Charlotte occupied both front seats. “Someone really should have stayed with her, you know” he mumbled, sort of as a stab at Charlotte for choosing to attend a race instead of sitting with her sister, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was doing the same thing. 

He could’ve chosen to stay home with her. He could have chosen to take a year off of racing and hoped that Rene would give him his shot at F2 next year, but no.

He chose to leave her. 

He chose to let her fight this fight alone. 

He chose to fly thousands of miles away to pursue his dreams. 

“Sorry, that was rude of me to say, I'm sorry..” he whispered, his voice shaking as tears began to form in his eyes. 

“It’s ok…” Charlotte said as she noticed the pain in his voice. “She doesn’t want me anywhere near her.. She only trusts you right now… I hope you understand why i’ve chosen to attend the first grand prix”

Arthur nodded and looked out the window. Charlotte was right. Sofia had pushed everyone away except for him. She only trusted him. She could only be vulnerable with him. She didn’t want to be around anyone but him. “Do you think I made a mistake by leaving her? Should I have stayed?”

Charlotte shook her head. “You know she would be disappointed if you had chosen to stop racing to be by her side. That’s what she was afraid of in the beginning and the main reason why she waited so long to tell you. She wants you to do what you love, Arthur.”

“Yeah but I can always do it next year..”

Charlotte nodded a little. “I say we see how this first race goes and if she really can’t handle being alone, then you can reevaluate the situation, ok?”

Arthur nodded “yeah, ok” he said before staring out the window. 

Was this truly the right decision? 

Would Sofia be ok without him?

Would he be able to perform well with so much on his mind?

Maybe he should’ve stayed. 

Maybe he should have Charles stop the car so he could run back to her apartment and hold her in his arms again. 

Maybe she would be ok without him.

Maybe she can handle this on her own.

Maybe she wants nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

Maybe she’s scared of fighting this alone.

Maybe tragedy will strike and leave them both wishing they would have done something different…

#arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc fanfiction #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc #f2 fanfic #f2 imagine

[positively-mine]

Heya^^ I saw how your shop is open and I'd like to order a chocolate cake and a medium lemonade(just some regular relationship hcs^^) The fandom I'd like order my cake from is from BSD please^^

☾Ok some things about myself (so so so sorry if it's too much/long) Ok so for starters my name is Kristina but closer friends call me Kris, Cis fem - Capricorn - infj

☾Appearance wise I'm on the shorter side and have a dark brown pixie cut and dark brown eyes, I have a couple freckles and wear glasses

☾I tend to be more introverted when meeting new people, I can hold a conversation way better when talking to one on one so my attention can only be focused on one person and give them my full attention. One I get more comfortable with someone I tend to be more jokingly sarcastic and like to goof around but I'll always get the hint if they are not in the mood to joke around

☾I'm really passionate about psychology and painting. On the weekends or when I'm finished with work I tend to draw on my sketchbook to visualise my next painting while listening to video essays about different types of diagnosis and how they affect the brain and behaviour(my favourite video essays is Fear of forgetting by Clark Elieson, ok but srs it's so good) and my paintings mostly comsist of still life with warm colours

☾And god forbid if one of my friends lets me ramble about psychology cuz I'll turn a casual convo to a hole ted talk and go on and on until they tell me to shut up(plus I have a inside joke with my therapist that I turned the tables and her therapist)

☾That's kinda it, tysm for giving me this opportunity and don't forget to hydrate!!!!!!!!

character matchup [˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ event]

hi Kristina! thanks for your order and sorry it took a while, I hope you'll enjoy and come again :)

credits at the bottom!

p.s thanks for the reminder, I just realized I only drank 1-2 bottles a day 🥲

I'm going to match you up with dazai or ranpo

for dazai, I can definitely see him taking an interest in you (similarly to how he was with atsushi)

at first he'd be curious because you're kind of quiet

however once you start warming up to him, he's curious to get to know you more

playful banter, a mixture of flirting as well, is thrown back and forth between the both of you

you're interest in psychology catches his attention too

he likes to listen to your take on how each diagnosis affects the way from how one thinks to how they behave

may or may not get into his, yours or both your mental state as well

once you start your speech on psychology, he won't stop you either

he'll sit there with you the entire time

giving you one of his signature smirk /smile

he's happy that you've been able to find your passion and drive in life

beyond that, he's glad that he can share a peice of his mind with someone else

would definitely be interested in your paintings as well

and the thought process behind it

questions you about every single detail

^ asks a lot of why questions as well

sometimes he ponders if your choice of art and colour as well are a reflection of your own mind

he likes to lounge near by and watch as you paint

falling asleep to the sound of your painting and the brush stroking on the paper

likes to call you silly nicknames such as kit / kitkat and so on

when you're both in the office, he likes to rest his head on top of yours and watch as you complete your work

he's bored out of his mind but at least you're there for him to disturb

Ranpo

similarly to dazai, he just likes to cause problems

will confidently strut over to your table and munch on his candies noisily while you're doing your work

don't expect much to get done

with you being his partner, it's like someone he can share his every thought with

(like an open diary essentially)

when you first met him, he was very pushy

always asking what you're listening to or what you're painting

sometimes likes to grab one side of the earpiece and listen to it beside you

but in the end he too, gets invested in what you're listening to and stays by your side

bratty bf

he'll joke with you back but sometimes he'll get upset

so you'll need to pacify him

preferably with candy

when you both get into deep talks he needs to at least have some form of skinship

either by holding your hand or leaning his head on your shoulder

or both

so if he's upset just sit with him and everything will be okay again

reblogs appreciated!

banners: dazai, ranpo,

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #x reader #headcanons #hc #bsd hcs #˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ #follower event #character matchup

[tijuanabiblestudies]

... why did a butch chew your face at the club?

*deep breath* OK SO

i am 19 years old and a freshman in college. my egg is not even lightly chipped at this point; for all intents and purposes i am a girl. it is a friday night and i am sitting at my dorm room desk, probably on livejournal. my roommate comes in and says "hey [deadname]! wanna come to [local nightclub]? it's gay night!"

(during my girl years, i largely identified as bisexual. my roommate, a straight girl, knew this, hence the invitation.)

"sure," i say, "what the hell," and proceed to doll myself up for a night on the town. my outfit is perhaps not strictly relevant to the tale but i am going to describe it anyway. from bottom to top, i am wearing:

knee-high silver boots

black fishnet stockings

black miniskirt

red-on-black My Chemical Romance off-the-shoulder top (Revenge era; iirc it had some cool art of a graveyard on it)

on the face: black eyeliner, red lipstick

and to top it all off: red-on-black pinstriped fedora. or trilby, i guess, if you want to be pedantic, but everyone at the time called them fedoras.

thusly prepared, i join my roommate and several others from our dorm and we pile onto a bus and head downtown. we get to the club. the music is bad, but i start dancing anyway. as i do, i notice a butch gal standing on the edge of the dance floor, looking at me. i look back, make eye contact, smile a little bit. i am not expecting anything in particular to come of this. clubbing etiquette is unfamiliar to me.

the next thing i know, she is RIGHT up on me. bumping and grinding ensue, followed in short order by kissing. rather intense kissing, in fact. by which i mean she is biting me, repeatedly and not at all gently. lips, neck, collarbones--pretty much everywhere above the tits seems to be fair game. bite bite bite.

i...have no idea how to handle this situation. in retrospect, the solution seems obvious: use words and/or body language to convey that i am not fond of what is happening and would like it to stop please.

i do not do this. my entire brain freezes up like the proverbial deer in headlights and i just sort of accept my new life as a chew toy.

it goes on for a while. time loses all meaning. i have long since lost track of the people i came with. i am vaguely aware that straight men (it's "gay night" at a club in a college town, of course it's lousy with straight tourists) are appreciatively watching me get eaten alive. my, uh..."dance partner" (neither of us is even pretending to move to the music) speaks to me a few times; at one point, she laughingly says "you're so serious!" and i have less than no fucking idea how to respond. at other points, i can't hear her over the music and just sort of make what i hope are appropriate faces and/or noises. all the while, the biting continues. it hurts rather a lot.

finally, finally, 2am rolls around and the club prepares to close. my masticator mercifully releases me. i do not even bother trying to find my roommate et al. i retrieve my coat from the coat check and get the fuck out of dodge.

it being late, the buses have stopped running. i have no way of getting back to my dorm short of a long hike, and these boots were not made for walkin'. it is cold and i am tired. i find an unlocked door in a university lecture hall and sleep on a bench inside, for some value of "sleep."

after sunrise, i head back to the bus stop. in is now the weekend, so the buses don't start running until later, but luckily there is a girl at the bus stop who is also trying to get to the same general area as i am, and she calls a cab and lets me share it with her.

when i get back to my dorm and check myself out in the mirror, i find that i am covered in bite marks. remember the red lipstick i had on? it's gone now. my lips, instead, are purple.

i wish i could end this with a moral about underage drinking, but i was stone cold sober the entire time.

#storytime with jonas

[rin-bellatrix]

A Man After Midnight

"Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?" - ABBA

Sasha's gone missing in search of the final vault key piece, and Fiona will be damned if another vault tries to take her sister from her - again. It doesn't matter who - or what - gets in her way, she'll find her sister - even when something supernatural is determined to make sure that she and Rhys never see the light of day again...

Written for the rhyiona lovers who are also Halloween lovers

Header art is by arymus (deactivated ☹)

I decided during the planning stages that this will be part three to "It Takes Two" and "U.N.I." sooo this is a multi-chapter work now I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️

Btw... it's a long one folks, get a snack and strap in lol

Fall leaves dividers from these posts and jack-o-lantern dividers from these posts. Orange swirl divider from this post

Trick or Treat~ ❤🧡💛🍁🍂🎃⚰🪦💀🕸🦇😈

Rhys turned off the car engine, pocketing the key and stepping out of the car with Fiona. The air was chilled and thick with mist that saturated the scenery and painted everything in a dreary sort of gray color. They glanced around and caught the looks of the wary townsfolk as they eyed the newcomers who had just arrived in their small rural town.

Fiona ducked her head, allowing the brim of her hat to cover her eyes - an old habit she never lost from back in her grifting days. 'Keep your head down, do your best to blend in and don't bring any unnecessary attention to yourself,' said the memory of Felix's voice floating in the back of her mind. But those days were behind her now. She was here for one reason and one reason only - to find her sister.

Meanwhile, Rhys shivered in the cold autumn air and tugged his jacket tighter around himself, glancing around the shrouded town to try and locate the hotel he had booked their stay at. All of the buildings appeared looming and ominous in this weather; he couldn't really differentiate one from another as they were half concealed with a wispy blanket of fog.

This was not some romantic getaway for the weekend, but rather an expedition to try and find Sasha. Her last known location had been here, this backwards little hole where she had followed a supposed "lead" to a new potential vault key piece. She had been conversing with Fiona, keeping a regular point of contact with her for the two days that she was there. On the third day, Sasha failed to check in and Fiona's big sister protective instincts flared to life, causing the vault hunter to abandon her current assignment and Fast Travel back to Promethea, where she could load up on gear and head over to her sister's last known whereabouts.

When he got the notification that his girlfriend was stopping by his company's home planet, Atlas' president grew excited at the thought of a romantic night out. Activating his newly programmed assistant, TIMM-E, Rhys allowed the program to take care of Atlas while its president was briefly away. He needed to work on making a body for TIMM-E, because as of right now, he was just an encrypted piece of data floating around Atlas' system. But for today, he could do his job well enough that his body would have to wait for later. Right now, love and romance were what Rhys was focused on.

Donning his expensive cologne and a fresh set of date night clothes, he swept by her apartment with a large bouquet of roses in hand, intending on asking her out for the evening. Expecting a tired but content vault hunter at the door, he was instead met with a laser focused, completely serious vault hunter who was not stopping by to rest for a few days before running off to her next adventure. She was only here temporarily, strapping up for what looked like a big battle.

He questioned her with a concerned wrinkle to his brow as he watched her check the sights of a rare gun before sliding a fresh clip into it. She briefed him about the little she knew, moving on to handle two different grenade mods, trying to decide which was the better of the two. The young CEO placed the roses in a vase, fanning them out a bit as the Pandoran woman clipped the chosen grenade mod to her hip, tossing the other one back into her storage container.

Seeing Fiona cycle through her inventory and attaching high powered weaponry to her belts, Rhys knew he couldn't leave her to face this alone. Sasha was her sister, but she was also one of his closest friends. They were all a family, bound by more than blood. He wasn't some kind of world class assassin, or really a fighter of any kind, but Fiona needed support and he'd give his all to be there for her and Sasha.

When he proposed that he'd come along to help, Fiona had outright refused, claiming that he'd just be putting himself in danger and that she didn't want to worry about her sister and her boyfriend too. But he insisted, claiming that his cybernetic inhancements would make tracking clues and ultimately finding Sasha that much easier. Eventually, the prospect of getting to her sister as soon as she was able to convinced the vault hunter to accept his help.

Rhys carefully reached out and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. "Don't worry Fi, we'll find her."

He could feel the various edges of her weapons pressing into his body, and truthfully it was a bit uncomfortable. But she returned his embrace and pressed her face into his shoulder, knocking her hat askew, and his discomfort didn't matter compared to his need to console his lover. Fiona was incredibly brave, but he knew that she was also incredibly scared. His own worry over Sasha's disappearance was hard to push back, but he didn't want to add to his girlfriend's already obvious distress.

They eventually broke away, and Rhys soon after hopped on a call to obtain their reservations for a hotel in the town Sasha had last been in. Fiona excused herself, needing to go down to the lobby of her apartment building and purchase ammunition from a vending machine, before getting ready to leave.

Turns out getting there was a little more complicated then they thought. The small town was so sequestered that not only did it not have a Fast Travel designated location, but it was miles away from the closest city that did. So Rhys quickly rung up the nearest rental and placed an order for a high-class (of course) but simple vehicle that would take them the rest of the way.

Now that they had arrived, they needed to grab their gear and make their way over to the hotel to officially begin their search. The company man and the Pandoran woman each took ahold of their own luggage, trying to ignore the feel of being stared at by dozens of watchful gazes. Closing the trunk and stepping away from their rented car, the young CEO activated the anti-theft alarm which seemed to chirp loudly in the lull of this tense silence. Turning towards the hotel, the couple began walking down the street when a voice called out to them.

"You can't park that here."

They both turned to find the speaker, taking in the older man leaning against a support beam in front of a shop. He looked less than impressed with them, his stare cold and unflinching.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is there a lot nearby or somewhere else I can park it?" Rhys asked, trying not to ruffle the feathers of the townspeople who were now all eyeing the newcomers with varying degrees of distain.

He glanced down the foggy street, but only then did he realize that there were no other vehicles as far as the eye could see. In fact, he hadn't seen any at all while driving into town. Their rental could most likely be the only car within a hundred miles.

"Sure," the old man shrugged easily, gesturing vaguely with a slight wave of his hand. "Best to park it in the next town over. Stay with it too, while you're at it."

Atlas' president frowned, not liking the way this guy just told them in a roundabout way to leave and stay gone. He opened his mouth to retort, when his girlfriend moved past him to step closer to this stranger.

"Look, we're only here because we're looking for my sister," she informed, watching his face carefully before turning and catching the eyes of everyone who was staring at them. "Has anyone seen her? A woman with light green eyes, her hair done up in thick locs? She was here for two days?"

None of the townsfolk spoke up or moved, they just continued to observe the couple as if Fiona had never said a word. They both knew that everyone watching had understood Fiona, it wasn't as if she was speaking Eridian. The people nearby were just purposefully ignoring her. The vault hunter pursed her lips, fighting back against the frustration wanting to get the better of her.

Rhys lifted his cybernetic hand, pulling up a hologram portrait of Sasha on his palm display. A blue digitized bust of Sasha sat in his hand, her smile beautiful and bright as she slowly rotated in a full 360 degree visual reference.

As soon as Rhys lifted his mechanical hand and brought up a glowing hologram, the reaction with the crowd was immediate. Everyone seemed to move back away from them, their murmurs of offense and scandle clear in the tones of their voices. They acted as if Rhys had just called forth fire from his hand. Startled, the young CEO quickly dismissed the hologram and dropped his hand, taking a step closer to Fiona. Likewise, she moved to face him, and one of the onlookers caught sight of the official vault hunter patch sewn onto the sleeve of her jacket.

"A vault hunter..."

"Vault hunter-"

"Did you see that-"

"Another one-"

Their frantic words ran together, almost unintelligible, but they both could hear the genuine fear and open disgust when the words "vault hunter" were spoken.

The people living in this backwards town had been coolly contemptuous, then reacting with indignation when Atlas' head had pulled up a hologram, acting as if modern technology didn't exist outside of this settlement. But the tone clearly shifted once Fiona was identified as a vault hunter, the air now thick with hostility and the promise of violence.

What these people had against advanced devices and vault hunters, she may never know, and to be honest, she really didn't care. Right now, they were in her way of finding where her sister was and if one of them even took a single threatening step closer, she'd have no problem whipping a gun out and showing them that she meant business.

"Everyone calm down, calm down now - these people are guests come to visit our fine town; let's show them some of our famous hospitality, shall we?"

A clear voice cut through the tension, making Rhys and Fiona turn towards the woman stepping through the small crowd that had gradually gathered around them. She was mature and elegant, holding her chin high as she swept towards them. Fiona, still on edge, kept her hand posed to reach for a weapon, eyeing the woman with open suspicion.

The older woman didn't seem to mind, looking between the two of them with a mild sort of curiosity. She was wearing what could only be described as an expensive gown, her collar bare and her skirt voluminous. She wore simple yet expensive jewelry along her neck and on her fingers. No one in the gathering stopped her or disobeyed her words, they only watched as she stood in front of the two newcomers.

"You must be the Strongforks, yes? You've procured your reservation for a stay at my hotel. My name is Lady Van Tassel, pleased to make your acquaintances," she stated, extending her hand demurely as she introduced herself.

"Oh! Yes, that's us, erm, t-the Strongforks, yep," Rhys fumbled, stepping over to delicately take her offered hand and give her a dainty shake.

He stepped back and Lady Van Tassel's hand was extended towards Fiona. Fiona wanted to ask Rhys about when they had gotten married and why hadn't she been informed, but that could wait until they were alone. She supposed for now she could play Mrs. Strongfork if it got them out of this situation faster. So she took her hand and also gave a gentle shake, noticing almost as an after thought of how soft her skin felt against her own.

Pulling away, the Pandoran mentally considered her own hands. The life of a vault hunter was rough, but that didn't mean her hands had to be. She made a mental note to moisturize more often.

"Please, come this way. I'll see you to your room," the Lady said, turning and allowing the out-of-town couple to follow behind her.

Glancing at the people who only moments ago were so keen on displaying their outright hatred for them, Fiona watched as they broke away and dispersed, not even sparing them one last disgruntled glance. Either their ire was extremely fickle, or Lady Van Tassel was someone more important than a simple hotel owner.

Entering between the large double doors of the hotel, all three of them stepped into the quiet lobby, with Ms. Van Tassel leading them straight to the check-in desk.

Despite Rhys' long legged height, as he followed closely behind the Lady and her vast swishing skirts, he reminded her of a baby duck, trailing in her wake. Fiona supposed that since she had taken them both in, that would make her a duckling too. She never liked to be indebted to people, especially those who she didn't know, but she had to admit that Ms. Van Tassel had pulled them out of a sticky situation.

"Thank you, for what you did back there," Fiona called out, catching the eye of the Lady as she turned to look at her from over her shoulder.

The older woman sighed, shaking her head once as she rounded the desk. "Let me apologize on behalf of my neighbors. We don't get very many visitors, and those that we do, some end up being vandals who call themselves 'vault hunter's' and only bring chaos to our quiet little town." She glanced up at them, her brow pinched with concern. "We've had a few... Unsavory altercations in the past. So many of us are wary, to put it lightly, of anyone who claims to be a vault hunter..."

Fiona nodded, stepping closer to the desk. "I understand, and I'm sorry for your troubles. But believe me when I say that I'm just here to find my sister. As soon as I do, we're gone. You have my word."

Lady Van Tassel regarded them quietly for a moment, before offering a small smile. "You two certainly don't come across as ruffians or scoundrels... I'll take you for your word, an unbroken promise between two ladies and a gentleman," she granted, reaching over the desk to take Fiona's hand again in another shake.

She then reached down and pulled out a large book, carefully opening up to a bookmarked page before turning it around and settling it onto the ledge in front of Rhys. "Sign here then, Mr. Strongfork," she instructed, pointing underneath a row of names to the next open space. "I'll get your keys ready and escort you upstairs to your quarters."

She turned towards a desk behind her and opened a wide drawer as Rhys scribbled his name across the page. Fiona sidled up next to him and together they scanned the names on the registry, looking for any of the names Sasha had used in the past. None had stood out to them, and so Rhys turned the book around as the Lady faced them, holding two copies of the room key out to them.

Taking one each, Fiona pocketed hers immediately and figured she'd question Ms. Van Tassel now while she had the chance. "Lady, have you seen a young woman in town, green eyes, thick hair locs? She was here for two days, I've lost communication with her almost a day ago."

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen anyone around here that looks like that. She's your sister you say? I hope you find her soon, darling," the Lady murmured, coming around the desk to offer a consoling pat to the vault hunter's arm, before linking their arms together. "Now, let's get you two situated upstairs, and I'll have a hot meal waiting for you when you're ready to come back down. You can't go out searching on an empty stomach."

She guided Fiona towards the stairs, calling out behind her for Rhys. "Mr. Strongfork, please don't forget your lovely wife's luggage, be a dear and carry them up for us, won't you?"

Had she turned to look over her shoulder at him, she would've found said Mr. Strongfork blushing at the mention of Fiona as his wife.

"Y-yeah, of course... Wouldn't want m-... My... W-wife to-"

"Rhys darling~" Fiona called, interrupting his suspicious stammering.  If this town was as backwards as it has already proven itself to be, then perhaps an unwed couple sharing a room would be the last straw on the belliks back. "Don't keep us waiting, okay~?"

Their room was nothing too extravagant, but it looked comfortable and clean. Fiona was truly exhausted, only allowing herself to sleep on the car ride over, which had been a mere couple of hours. Before that she had been out on the field, completing some side mission for someone on Sanctuary. Now, the temptation of a clean bed called to her, her body desperate for some real rest. But the thought of her sister alone, possibly in a dangerous situation - or worse, hurt - kept her from being able to indulge in some much needed sleep.

So for now she shoved her luggage under the bed and straightened up to look at Rhys. "So... Husband of mine."

The ease with which Fiona could conjure a blush to her boyfriend's face was incredibly satisfying, but it didn't make up for the explanation he owed her.

"So, I'm sure you'd like for me to explain myself right?"

Fiona raised her scarred brow as a silent answer.

He glanced down shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as a subconscious show of discomfort. His still pink cheeks combined with a tentative smile made her soften towards him. "Well, when I called to book the reservation, you had just left to go stock up on ammo, so when Lady Van Tassel answered, I kinda had to wing it when I asked for a double and she inquired if my... Wife... Was coming along... So I just sort of said, yes..."

He looked up at her and she swore that at any moment, he'd start poking his index fingers together like a guilty child. "Hmm, maybe it's a bit too early for us, we still haven't had our one year anniversary yet..."

Rhys chuckled nervously, relaxing a bit but still looking as though he was expecting a solid reprimanding. "Hehe, yeah, definitely too early for like, marriage and stuff..."

Fiona made a show of tapping her chin in thought, humming to herself as he watched. "Though I don't think I'd mind if I was Mrs. Strongfork for a while..."

"...Oh...?" The hopeful tone in her boyfriend's voice brought a smile to her face.

"Yeah. After all, I'd get at least fifty-one percent of Atlas right?"

"Wha- fifty-one percent? If anything, I would get fifty-one percent because I'm the CEO-"

"Am I hearing fifty-two percent?"

"No, come on, that's not how negotiating works-"

"Fifty-three percent."

"You're not even listening-"

"Sixty."

"Please... I'm not gonna have a company left to manage-"

"Seventy-five percent and that's my final offer as your wife."

"...You are a cruel, cruel woman."

Fiona grinned, making her way over to him and planting a kiss along his jaw line. "That's why you married me, dear husband."

He slanted his head and leaned down, kissing her briefly over her ruby lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way, dear wife."

The vault hunter smiled, reaching down to link their hands together. "Let's go eat so we can find Sasha and get our asses back home."

Rhys patted his empty stomach with his free hand, almost salivating at the thought of a hot meal. "You don't have to tell me twice, I really hope it's delicious."

His girlfriend pulled him along, locking the door behind them. "As long as it's not chocolate dill pickle flavored, it should be good."

"Slanderous. I'm telling you, once you try Fran's yogurt, you'll be singing praises to whoever invented such a delicious flavor combination."

"We can only hope so Rhys, we can only hope so."

Their meal is simple but savory, hot and filling so it sits just right in their bellies. They thank Ms. Van Tassel as she collects their dishes and stacks them on a tray to take back to the kitchen. Turning to leave, they stop before the double doors and look back when she calls out to them.

"I should warn you, to please be back before night fall. There have been some... Strange occurrences lately, and I'd hate to see you two suffer from lack of knowledge. When night falls, come back here and resume your search tomorrow morning."

"Thank you Lady, but we're not afraid of the dark," Fiona answered. "We'll be alright, we're tougher than we look."

"I see..." The older woman murmured, clearly disappointed. "That may be so, and I can say nothing else to try and convince you otherwise. But if there is one thing you take from me, please let it be this - find shelter before the lamps go out, or surely you will be doomed."

Rhys glanced over at Fiona as the vault hunter considers the patroness, who stood by their table, the bottom of her apron twisted tightly in her worried grip. As a born and raised Pandoran, she had spent many nights out underneath the moons and stars, both as a penniless child and as fledgling vault hunter. Doing so now didn't concern her in the slightest, but she figured that she'd at least reassure the older woman and try to ease her mind.

"We understand. If we're out that late, we'll take shelter and wait it out 'til morning. Hopefully we'll find Sasha and be back before that's even an issue."

"You brave girl..." Lady Van Tassel murmured, gliding over to the younger woman and reaching up to cup her cheek tenderly.

Fiona thought that it was a little weird, but she understood that some people were comfortable with showing such displays of affection. On top of which, the Lady had been nothing but kind and welcoming to them, so if she wanted to...touch her cheek for whatever reason, Fiona didn't mind it too much.

"I was a lot like you when I was your age... Do be careful out there, both of you." Smiling softly, the Lady lifted her hand from Fiona's face while simultaneously a sharp pinch to her scalp caused the vault hunter to wince. "Oh! I'm sorry, this old ring pulled your hair, my apologies dear girl!"

The Pandoran woman reached up underneath her hat to rub at her scalp, eyeing the couple of strands that had caught on the back of Lady Van Tassel's ornate ring. "Ah... It's no problem, don't worry about it. Anyway, we'll be on our way now. Have a good night Lady, see you soon."

Fiona righted her hat and she and Rhys waved goodbye to the older woman who waved back until the double doors closed behind them.

Lady Van Tassel looked down and carefully extracted the younger woman's hair from her ring, pulling a small book of summoning from her apron pocket and tucking the hair in between the pages.

The couple start their search by checking any areas where Sasha could've gone or was most likely to go. There was a tailor a few blocks down (who absolutely refused to let Fiona in). Rhys went in alone and questioned him but had no luck there.

Next was the grocer (who didn't want to talk if Fiona was standing within ten feet of his shop). Rhys was told a young outsider bought some fruit from him but once, and he claims he hasn't seen her since. Supposedly she looked like Sasha but he wasn't entirely sure until Rhys folded some bills into his hand. (What a schmuck.)

Walking down the foggy street to their next stop, the company man nudged his girlfriend playfully in an attempt to tease her and lift her spirits. "You think any of the people here wanna join your fan club?"

The Pandoran woman rolled her eyes, leveling the taller man with an unperturbed stare. "I'm not here to win their miss congenitality contest, I'm here to find my sister. They can think of me what they like, as long as they don't get in our way."

The florist was next, but as Fiona stepped up to the entrance, the door was slammed in her face (nearly flattening her nose and knocking her hat off), before the OPEN sign was flipped to CLOSED in the curtained window. The vault hunter was about to start kicking doors down to get her answers whether people liked it or not, but Rhys gently guided his fuming girlfriend away to their next stop.

They both decided that Rhys would do the asking, because although he wasn't too popular amongst the locals, the vile vault hunter was tolerated as well as deadly plague. Which was to say not at all.

There was a general shop, owned by the same older man that had told them to park their car elsewhere. Fiona waited outside, arms crossed over her chest as she willed her irritation to subside. Her foul mood wouldn't help find her sister any faster - in all likelihood, it might even hinder the search. So she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to ground herself and ignore the people passing by who were obviously glaring daggers and muttering to each other about her. A shriveled old lady even spat at the ground by her feet as she hobbled on by.

It was safe to say that she was not making any new friends here.

Her boyfriend stepped out from the shop, the little bell above the door dingling as he exited. She turned to face him and he simply shook his head no. She was expecting that but the disappointment still stung. Glancing down to the small bag in his hand, she looked back up and raised a silent brow of inquiry.

"Wouldn't talk to me unless I bought something," the company man answered, lifting the bag and opening it, showing her that he bought about a dozen sticks of jerky.

"Why so much?"

Rhys shrugged. "In case we get hungry again while searching all night. Plus, if we find Sasha tonight, she'll probably be hungry too."

Fiona couldn't argue with that. "Fair enough. Now, where else can we check?"

Atlas' head ripped open one of the sticks of jerky and bit into it, using the uneaten portion to point down the road. "There's a church of some kind down that way," he spoke around the dried meat in his mouth. "Doesn't hurt to check it out."

The vault hunter wanted to make a comment about him talking with his mouth full, but truthfully she didn't have the energy to joke around right now. Exhaustion was weighing heavily on her mind and the gray skies were growing darker and darker with the night impending. "Alright, let's go."

The church was nearly empty, the only inhabitant was a priest doing some general upkeep around the building. He also observed them with obvious concern, but so far he wasn't slamming doors in their faces or hurtling insults at them, so he was infinitely more welcoming than the other people who they tried to talk to.

Fiona waited between the threshold of the door, half expecting to be verbally thrown out before she could get a word in. Rhys didn't want to waste any time, so he quickly approached and asked the devoted man if he had seen a woman bearing Sasha's resemblance anywhere in town.

The pastor seemed to hesitate a moment, his eyes taking in the sight of the lanky man before him with a glowing amber eye and a mechanical hand that clutched a plastic bag. The silent woman behind him who lurked in the doorway who had to be the vault hunter that people had rushed in to tell him about. He sensed no ill will from either of them, but he still remained wary of their true intentions.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you. Now please, leave."

"Can't or won't?"

Rhys looked back at Fiona, her bright jade eyes leveled on the priest in an unflinching stare.

"My sister is missing and no one in this whole town can tell me where she's gone? No one can help me, not even a man of the cloth?"

The Pandoran walked forward, moving past the young CEO and stepping closer to the priest. "I'm gonna ask you again. Have you seen my sister? Do you know where she is?"

The older man looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers briefly before skittering away. "I'm sorry..." he repeated, refusing to meet her gaze.

The vault hunter stared hard at the man before her. Her boyfriend reached over to put a hand over her shoulder, silently beckoning her away. She ignored him and leaned forward, invading the pastor's personal space.

"If my sister is hurt because no one in this town wanted to help, you will come to understand the truth in the saying, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' Remember that, Father."

Fiona turned and stalked down the aisle, afraid that if she stayed for one more second, she'd come to regret it. Rhys turned, sparing the sweating priest a backwards glance before quickly following his girlfriend out of the church.

The vault hunter stormed out, leaving the church behind and marching down the street. She didn't know where she was going, only that she needed to get away. Her head was pounding and her eyes were watering for no reason. Her muscles ached and all she wanted to do was find her sister and sleep in her arms for a week straight.

Where was Sasha? Was she hurt? Why wasn't she contacting her? Did something bad happen? What if she needed Fiona right now but she was stuck here dealing with these wretched people?

Fiona stopped suddenly, so so tired and frustrated that she didn't try to fight the tears gathering along her lashes. She tilted her head back and sighed deeply, her breath billowing out in a short lived cloud. Dusk was truly settling in now and the already dark town was growing darker.

Homes with people who had all their loved ones safe and sound under one roof were drawing the curtains and dousing their lanterns. Shops that they hadn't been thrown out of were closing too, the owners locking up and heading home. No one wanted to be out in the dark at night, but Sasha was. She was out there all alone, and Fiona was failing her all over again.

She dipped her head down as she heard Rhys walk up to her. He seemed to hesitate, knowing in this moment that she was fragile. But eventually he sidled closer and whispered softly to her in the last sunlit hour.

"Hey... Can I give you a hug?"

She didn't turn her face up, keeping it turned down and hidden, but she nodded silently and turned towards him. He placed his bag of jerky by his feet before straightening and folding her in his arms. He squeezed her tight, and when her hat threatened to fall, he lifted it and placed it over his own wavy hair to keep it from hitting the damp ground. Her hair exposed, he placed a kiss on her crown and rubbed his hand down her back.

"Sasha is so lucky to have a sister like you. If I had any siblings, I'd want to have the same relationship with them that you two have." He swayed with her gently, speaking softly against her hair only loud enough for her to hear. "No one in this universe loves Sasha more than you do. Anyone can see that. You're doing your best Fiona, and you're not alone. I'm here to help you and Sasha too, remember that."

The vault hunter sniffled, rubbing her face over her boyfriend's expensive clothing. Normally she was tougher than this, but nearly two days without sleep was really wearing her thin, along with of course the constant worry. Also the abundant assholes in this town were getting on her last nerve, too.

She lifted her face and looked up at Rhys with her watery eyes. "...Thanks..."

He smiled lightly, bringing up his left hand to delicately wipe away any stray moisture from her face. "No problem beautiful."

"Sorry... I just need a moment to get myself together," she sighed, trying to summon some more strength from deep within herself.

"Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere," Rhys replied, taking the hat from his head and fitting it back onto Fiona's.

She adjusted it slightly, before tugging at her jacket, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. "How do I look?"

"Like you're ready to get back out there and threaten some more people."

An embarrassed smile broke out over her face and she reached out to slap him on his arm. "Well. He deserved it."

"Hey lady... Are you the vault hunter?"

The couple turn to look at a young teenage boy, who was staring at them like they were lunatics. Well, they were, kind of... Making a scene in the middle of the street...

"Yeah, that's me," Fiona answered, looking him up and down. He was watching them like they were loons, but she couldn't detect any hatred coming from him like every other person in town.

The boy looked around, making sure no one else saw him as he spoke with the two outsiders. It was very nearly dark now, and it seemed like everyone was inside already.

He faced the pair and cleared his throat. "Look... My da patrols the town at night, to keep our people safe. He says about a night ago, he saw the outsider lady head up towards the covered bridge, down that away," he gestured, pointing to the outskirts of town where the street lamps faded into the thick wall of mist. "She was by herself... If that's your sister you're looking for... I don't have much faith that she's okay - no one comes back who's been out after the lamps are gone, but... I hope you find her."

Rhys and Fiona looked at each other, before addressing the boy again.

"Thank you!" she called out, turning and almost running in the direction he pointed out.

"Hey, thanks kid, we really appreciate it," the company man nodded, snatching up his bag, digging in and giving the bewildered teenager a stick of jerky, before running off to catch up with his girlfriend.

Night has truly fallen, and the only light available to them now is the faint flickering glow from the street lamps and the light from the overly large moon. The rolling fog that blanketed the area earlier has only thickened with darkness taking over.

Rhys activates his ECHO eye, tracking the foot prints from a pair of shoes around the sparsely wooded area on the edge of town. They are Sasha's size and favorite brand, and they seem to be recent - within the last twenty-four hours. He tells this to Fiona who visibly sags with relief. They haven't found her yet, but they're finally on the right track.

As time passes, they recall the warnings not to be out when the lamps died out, and now they can no longer see the flicker of the tamed flames in town. It is past midnight, and the lights have finally burned out.

Rhys' glowing amber eye pierced through the rolling fog to look up ahead and locate the covered bridge the teenage boy had mentioned. He lifted his robotic hand and activated a beam of light to shoot out of his palm display. He angled it forward until the beam could cut partially through the churning mist and illuminate part of the structure of this bridge.

"I think Sasha had to come through here, her footsteps were leading up this way for sure."

"Can you see what's on the other side?"

"Too much fog right now, we have to cross the bridge first."

Breaching the entrance to this large covered bridge, darkness almost fully envelops the pair as their heeled boots clip and thump against the wooden floorboards. The company man raises the intensity of his light beam, guiding them closer to the end of the bridge. The mist on the other side seems somehow thicker, his light barely able to penetrate through its opacity.

They step off the bridge and start walking over hard packed dirt, following Sasha's trail deeper into the forest. The shrouded mist before them is so dense that they have to slow down to make sure that they're still following in the Pandoran woman's steps. Fiona steps closer to Rhys, even wrapping a hand over the sleeve of his metal bicep, because any misstep could easily separate them in this low visiblity. This was a missing person hunt for one, no need to add anyone else to the list.

After a couple of minutes of tracing carefully over Sasha's tracks, the two of them glance at each other as they can hear what sounds like distant galloping fast approaching. They turn to look behind them and the sound of hooves striking the hard packed dirt grows closer. Becoming uneasy, the couple share a look and Fiona begins to pull Rhys along, heading back towards the covered bridge that stretched over the rushing river below. At least for sure they know there's some kind of shelter to be had there.

Just as they make out the roof of the bridge a little bit away, they look behind them once more as the growing volume of someone or something approaching sounds like it's right at their backs.

The clouds above break, moonlight shining down and illuminating the churning mist in the distance. The fog parts suddenly, and out from its depths surges an equine-like creature with a rider cloaked in shadows. What causes the couple alarm is that the head of the rider appears to be a pumpkin, a crude face sawed out of its husk and spewing flames from its holes. It seems to set its sights on the only other people in the clearing, and after rearing its horse in a show of excitement, it heads straight for the couple like a bat out of hell.

They both turn and make a run for it, sprinting across the now visible clearing and just beginning to make it across the wooden floorboards as the rider draws closer. Rhys looks behind him just as the rider stops before the bridge and takes hold of its own head. The rider winds back and hurtles the flaming pumpkin towards them. Rhys shouts for Fiona and grabs her, pulling her down with him in an attempt to dodge the attack.

As they're falling, they can feel the heat from the fire and the force of the pumpkin fly pass them and explode further up on the bridge. They land hard and twist to look behind them to see... Nothing.

There's no rider on the other side of the bridge. The mist is flowing calmly as if there was never a disturbance.

They turn simultaneously to look for the smashed pumpkin, but there is no jagged pieces of rind exploded on the floorboards like they expect there to be.

Sitting up, they look at each other in complete confusion.

"Okay... That really just happened to us, right?"

"Yeah..." Fiona answers distantly, seeming preoccupied with trying to find a reason as to what the hell just happened.

"So we're not crazy right? Some whacko was really just chasing us, chucking flaming vegetables at us right?"

"Yeah..."

Rhys looks over Fiona and helps her up. "Hey, are you okay? You're not hurt or anything Fi?"

Fiona is staring hard into the distance, where the violent rider had emerged.

"Fi?"

Fiona turns to look at Rhys, a hard look across her face. "Rhys... The last time Sasha was seen was where that pumpkin bastard came out from. Maybe he's got something to do with Sasha disappearing... Listen, go back to the hotel and wait for me there, it's too dangerous to take you along."

"No, no way am I leaving you to go off by yourself after we just met that... That galloping ghost or whatever!"

"Come on, be reasonable here. Even if I gave you a spare gun, would you be able to hit anything with it considering your poor aim?"

"Hey! I've been practicing I'll have you know-"

"Oh yeah? So you're telling me that you're confident that you can actually shoot at and hit your target?"

"Yes!"

Fiona leveled him with a flat stare.

"...And by yes I mean maybe...! A strong maybe."

She sighed. "Juuust as I thought..."

"Look, that doesn't matter anyway because I've got this little doohickey right here~" he preened, opening a digital inventory just like Fiona's, and digitizing a small gun into his hand. He showed it off like it was something special. "What do you think?"

The vault hunter shrugged, crossing her arms across her chest. "What is it, your water jet flosser?"

Atlas' president grinned, unperturbed by her teasing. "Nooo, this is the future of Atlas! A new design for people who have less than ideal aiming skills. Equipped in this power packed pistol is an automatic aim assist, or AAA for short."

"Aaa?" Fiona repeated, incredulous.

His bright smile never left though. "You got it! See, the technology here is two-fold: the actual pistol locks onto your chosen target, then the bullets have a teeny tiny little tracker as the actual bullet head. No way can anyone miss with this bad boy! Buuut, it's a prototype, not officially ready for the market yet. Soon! But not yet."

Fiona was doubtful, but Rhys seemed pretty proud of his little experimental gun, plus some back up to fight this apparition would be nice... What other choice did she have.

"Alright, fine - but on one condition," she pointed a turquoise tipped finger in his face. "Once your shield is low, come back to the bridge to hide until it fully recharges again, do you understand?"

"Well, yeah I get it, but I don't have a shield," he answered, perplexed.

"You're taking mine," she answered, deactivating her shield and removing it from her belt. She clipped it onto Rhys' belt and it flared to life, gradually recharging even amidst his protests.

"Whoa, no no no no, I can't take your shield! You need that!"

She quirked a brow at him in response. "You're gonna need it more, plus out of the two of us, I'm faster on my feet. And don't worry too much about it, I've got a backup in my inventory."

She cycled through her digital items, selecting the other shield she had in her inventory. It wasn't too much weaker than the one she had given her boyfriend, so she didn't feel too exposed as she clipped it on and it rapidly charged to full capacity.

"Now, we've gotta come up with a solid plan on how to deal with Mr. Dramatic," Fiona started, watching as Rhys shoved his AAA pistol down his waistband and put the bag of jerky in the now empty slot in his digital inventory.

"Ooh, Mr. Dramatic, that's nice - but what about Captain Dramatic? Sounds funnier."

The vault hunter rolled her eyes. "Rhys, focus."

"Okay. But just hear me out... Doctor Dramatic, huh? Huh? Come on, you can't tell me that it doesn't sound funny and dastardly."

Okay... This was gonna be a while.

Stepping through the dense fog was anxiety inducing, it almost felt like it was purposefully moving against them and keeping the enemy from sight. At any moment, he could burst through the wall of mist and be upon them in seconds. They really had to strain their senses to catch even the slightest of changes to their environment.

Always aware, all of the time.

They didn't know how much time had passed, but soon it started to feel as if they were safe. Perhaps... Perhaps they had imagined a headless cloaked rider who threw flaming pumpkins at strangers in the woods. Certainly the idea itself was crazy - a far-fetched notion born from lack of sleep and constant worry.

The Pandoran stopped and tugged on her boyfriend's arm, pulling him to a stop alongside her. He had been stalking around just as on edge as she was, and it sort of felt silly to be walking around in circles in the middle of the woods at night. It was late in the year and night at this time of the autumn season was cold and wet. Truthfully, they could just continue to follow Sasha's boot prints rather than waste anymore time on this wild rakk chase-

A sudden glow to their left drew her eye, and immediately she shoved Rhys out of the way, jumping back herself as another flaming pumpkin crashed into the ground where they had been standing. Flaming bits of the jack-o-lantern pelted their shields, but that was of less concern than the rider on the massive steed that had just appeared.

His dark form cleaved through the fog, heading straight towards Fiona as another incendiary jack-o-lantern appeared instantly in his waiting hand.

"Rhys, remember the plan!" she called out, turning and drawing Doctor Dramatic after her as she sprinted towards the bridge for the second time that night.

If he answered back, she couldn't hear him over the sound of the horse's hooves galloping after her, and quickly gaining speed.

She ducked and rolled to the side as another firey pumpkin was thrown at her back, depleting her shield's capacity entirely. She hid behind a large tree by the edge of the clearing, trying to catch her breath as she brought out her assault rifle.

Checking the status of her recharge rate, she watched her shield capacity as it quickly started to fill up from zero. 'Okay, so pumpkins that happen to be on fire are very damaging and dangerous, noted.' She checked to make sure her safety was off before peeking around the edge of the trunk.

Fiona's ECHO rang and she answered it automatically without thinking. She was used to being contacted while crouched behind cover as bullets and/or axes whizzed by her (such was the life of a vault hunter), so this time was no different.

"Yeah?" she answered curtly, emptying a full clip into the horseman as he stormed towards her, before dropping back down behind her cover. The rider took a good sixty bullets to the chest like a sponge - this was not gonna be as easy as she'd hoped. She began swapping the empty clip for a new one when the caller spoke.

"Hey Fi, sorry it took forever to-"

"Sasha?!"

"Yeah?"

Fiona was half relieved, half incredulous in this moment. "Sasha, where have you been? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine, my ECHO just up and died on me, so I had to leave the creepy little town I was in to go to the city for the nearest repair shop-"

"I thought something bad had happened to you!"

"Nah, you know me, I can handle myself. Did you come all this way just for me? I can see from your ECHO location that you're in that old town I was in - it's creepy right? The vibes in that place are totally off-"

Another flaming pumpkin was thrown against her cover, bits of tree bark and pumpkin rind still on fire were raining down next to her crouched figure.

"Sasha, look... Rhys and I are in the middle of something right now, so I'll call you when we're done."

"Ew, I really don't wanna know that..."

Fiona's face burned red. "It's- NO it's not-" The vault hunter sighed in frustration over the sound of her sister's light giggles.

"I'm just teasing~ Enjoy your date and call me later. Bye Fi!"

"Bye, brat..." the Pandoran woman stashed her ECHO device away, turning to help her boyfriend finish this thing off.

Rhys was following the plan, drawing the horseman's attention to him by running and firing an entire clip into his broad back. Doctor Dramatic turned the horse and started charging at the young CEO. She couldn't hear him from across the clearing, but she could certainly imagine the sound of the yelp he let out as he fell back behind some cover.

She shot out of her hiding spot and ran down the edge of the treeline, keeping her sights locked onto their opponent. When he got too close to the small boulder that her boyfriend was taking cover behind, she stopped and lifted her assault rifle to point it at the rider's back.

She used the sights to aim because any stray bullet could miss and possibly hit Rhys, and even though he had a great shield, she still didn't want to take any chances. As soon as she had the middle of his cloaked back in view, she pulled the trigger and shot massive amounts of hot lead into their pursuer.

The rider seemed to lurch forward, dropping a pumpkin and almost falling from the force of being shot at, and Fiona started to hope that this would be the end of it. But her hope was fleeting as he seemed to shake off the attack and right himself in his saddle. He turned, and reached out to his side, materializing a sword out of nowhere. He swung it in a graceful but powerful arc, the sharp blade singing as it cut through the cloudy air.

'Oh shit...' she thought, having no time to panick as he forced his mount to start barreling towards her.

She threw the large gun onto her back and booked it towards the bridge. Drawing the vegetable tossing rider closer to the only safe space they had was part of the plan. She could just make out the roof ridge in the distance, its peak high enough that the mist seemed to thin closer to the top.

But the rider was on her sooner than she expected.

She heard the singing of the blade as it swung towards her from behind.

Rhys' shout in the distance, the heavy billowing breaths from the horse, the blade cleaving through everything with no resistance. Everything was happening all so fast and there was no time to react.

The sword sliced right through her shield, immediately making it crash to zero. In the arc of the same swing, the edge of the blade cut cleanly through her neck. Or it would have, but Rhys was unloading the last of his bullets into the rider and that altered Doctor Dramatic's aim. Instead of decapitating her, the sharp edge of the blade cut upwards and sliced through Fiona's hat.

She landed hard on the ground, her breath getting punched right out of her as the rider changed direction and started heading for the company man. She looked ahead of her as her beloved hat - now in two evenly halved pieces - tumbled onto the ground in front of her.

'My hat...!' she despaired, staring at what was left of it in absolute heartbreak.

Her eyes hardened and she pushed herself up, the fury of a thousand bullymongs making her seek not only victory, but revenge now.

Rhys pulls the trigger to his prototype gun, frowning at the empty clicking sound it was making. "Out of bullets already? Note to self: get the R&D department to extend the cliiIIIIP-"

He dropped down and covered his head as the horseman rode up to him and swung his blade over the young CEO. Fiona was on the other side of the clearing, and whatever she was doing was making enough noise that it drew the rider's attention again. This close to Doctor Dramatic, Rhys could activate his ECHO eye and see that the being sitting on top of the steed really had no head... His entire bodily form seemed as if it was constructed of shifting shadows. Even his gleaming, deadly blade looked as if it was made out of solidified moonlight.

Before Rhys could take in any more details, the horseman kicked off and raced back towards Fiona. He couldn't see his girlfriend from this perspective, the bodies of the rider and his steed obscuring his view. But she was still fussing with something by the sounds of it, so she needed more time. But he had nothing left...! Nothing, except for that one thing...

The vault hunter slides the last of the rockets into the chamber, loading the launcher properly as her enemy comes barreling towards her. As she flicks the safely off and moves to lift the giant weapon, she can hear her boyfriend shout from behind the fast approaching rider, "IT LOOKS LIKE YOU NEED A HAND!"

From behind the horseman she can see Rhys lift his cybernetic arm, leveling it at Doctor Dramatic's back before it explodes out of his sleeve and rockets towards his cloaked back. Rhys'... Mechanical fist strikes the rider down, making him tumble off of his horse. The horse then collapses into a cloud of smoke, blending with the fog swirling around.

The rider stands up and redraws his sword, but before he can come any closer, Fiona fires her rocket launcher at him, the kickback almost knocking her off her feet. The projectiles meet Doctor Dramatic, a massive explosion obliterating their relentless attacker in a rain of pumpkin guts that gets splattered all over them.

The vault hunter flinched upon impact, taking a moment to lower her heavy weapon from off her shoulder to rest at her feet, reaching up to wipe away stringy orange innards and pumpkin seeds from her face.

The head of Atlas jogs over to her, stopping midway through to retrieve his robotic forearm from the pile of pumpkin innards, shaking it off before walking over to her.

"Well... That was eventful."

She looked down at the partial arm he held in his left hand. "So when were you gonna tell me about that?"

Rhys shrugged, the beginnings of a shy smile twitching at his lips. "Eh, it's also, sort of... A prototype. I don't even have a name for it. Got the idea from a video game, heh."

He held out his partially empty sleeve towards her, and she reached over her rocket launcher to start rolling up the fabric. Once it was up over his elbow joint, he fit his mechanical forearm over the slotted edges and sealed it back in place. He flexed his metal hand to ensure everything was synced up properly.

"Hey... Did you say anything cool when you fired your rocket at him?"

The Pandoran tilted her head, "Why would I?"

"Aww, it's just, you missed an opportunity to say something badass like 'Take two of these and don't call me in the morning,' ya know, because we called him Doctor Dramatic? It would have been cool and funny..."

She scoffed in amusement, shaking her head at him. "Rhys, I think you're mixing up being a vault hunter with a movie star," she said as she dematerialized her launcher back into her digital inventory. "So is that what that whole 'Looks like you need a hand' thing was about?"

Clearly embarrassed, Atlas' president cleared his throat and brushed a hand down his jacket, flicking off pieces of wet pumpkin pulp. "By the way... I got a text from Sasha that said 'winky-face' so I'm assuming she's okay."

"Yeah, she called me in the middle of all that and told me her ECHO device had just died, but she's fine. I told her I'd call her back after we were done, so let's start heading back."

He pulled up his palm display and began entering a short message to Sasha as they headed towards the covered bridge. "I'm checking her location now and it says she's nearby. I'll text her back and ask her to meet us at the hotel."

"Great..." Fiona managed around a yawn, so glad that this awful situation was finally over with. "Hey, thanks for everything by the way. I couldn't have done it without you." She smiled tiredly up at her boyfriend.

He reached out and tucked some of her hair back behind her ear. "Hey, that's what husbands are for, right?"

She chuckled and reached up to flick a pumpkin seed off of the tip of his ear. "Whatever Mr. Rocket Fist..."

Rhys nudges the woman at his side and says "I don't know about you, but this has kinda put me in the mood for some pumpkin pie... What about you?"

"...Rhys... As much as I love you, I will strangle you. I don't wanna see another pumpkin for a long, long time."

"Aww, you said it first this time...! I love you too Fi."

Fiona looks over at him incredulously. "I want a divorce..."

Rhys shrugged, a bashful smile on his face. "What can I say, I just find you so cute when you're violent."

Fiona rolled her eyes, but as always, couldn't mask her affection for the dork by her side. She linked their pumpkin stained hands together and pulled him down for a quick kiss. When they broke, she looked up at him with a tired smile and said "Let's head back to the hotel and clean up, this is officially the worst honeymoon ever."

They turn and start walking hand in hand across the dark and quiet bridge, back towards the edge of town.

"A shower and a bed sounds really nice right about now..."

Fiona smirked. "Even better than a pumpkin pie?"

Rhys snickered, slinging his arm over his girlfriend's shoulders and pulling her against him. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"I could be persuaded to forget... With a little monetary incentive..."

"Of course, what else should I have expected?"

Fiona wrapped her arm around his slim waist, allowing them to press closer then before. "Well, I'll be nice and give you the soon-to-be ex-husband discount, of course."

"Ooh how generous, my sweet, kind hearted, vault hunter soon-to-be ex-wife~"

Fiona chuckled, nudging him lightly. "Dork..."

Entering the double doors of the hotel, the tired couple were immediately greeted by the one person they came to find. Sasha looked damn near radiant, breaking out into a big smile as soon as she saw them.

"It took you two long enough," she quipped, way too chipper for the likes of the incredibly exhausted pair.

"Shut up~" Fiona groaned playfully, stepping over to give her sister a hug.

She was stopped when Sasha held up a hand with a slight grimace. "Save the hugs for later, when you're not covered in..." She waved her hand in a vague gesture over the two of them. "Whatever this is."

"Fair enough," the older sister shrugged, dragging herself towards the stairs with her lanky boyfriend in tow. "Shower first, hugs later..."

"Actually," Sasha called out, "just get your bags, I'll drive us to the big city so we can get some five star take-out and bedding with a high thread count. My treat."

Rhys and Fiona sighed in unison at the thought of such luxuries after the ordeal they just had. Quality food and quality bedding sounded nothing short of heavenly in this moment. They quickly mumbled their agreement, heading off to fetch their belongings.

After retrieving their bags and coming down, they spotted Lady Van Tassel by the check-in desk. Something had soured her once sweet demeanor, and now she was watching them leave with clear irritation on her features.

"Sorry Lady," Rhys spoke, apologizing for such a quick exit. "We're canceling the remaining reservation but I'm happy to pay you for the night."

He took a step towards her when Sasha put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Go sit in the backseat with Fi, I'll pay for your stay. After all, you came all this way just for me, it's the least I can do."

"Oh, are you sure? Thanks, Sasha, I owe you one," he promised, eager to finally get some rest. "Thank you again Lady Van Tassel, goodbye...!" He turned and both he and Fiona make their way over to the car, the two already practically asleep on their feet.

If Rhys would have waited to see the older woman's reaction, he would've witnessed the scowl full of hate she was no longer able to hide.

Sasha looked over at her coolly, aware of who she really was. "Your attempt on their lives is payment enough, right... Witch?"

Lady Van Tassel glares sharply at her, but says nothing.

The younger Pandoran woman smiles knowingly, before turning and leaving the hotel behind her, making her way over to the car. Fiona and Rhys were just snuggling in together in the back when Sasha settled into the driver's seat. The company man had already inserted the key into the ignition, so all she had to do was start it.

She pulled out from the parking spot, turning the wheel easily and driving through the town. She glanced down to her right to see a plastic bag on the passenger seat. Slowing down to check its contents, she laughs quietly to herself as she finds it's full with sticks of jerky.

Continuing the drive, she finally makes it out of town and starts heading towards the cluster of city lights in the far off distance. Glancing in the rear view mirror, she smiles at the sight of the couple leaning against each other, fast asleep. Rhys was already starting to drool and Fiona was snoring softly, both of them clutching their luggage like teddy bears to their pumpkin stained chests.

This story was heavily inspired by Tim Burton's movie "Sleepy Hollow". Who doesn't love a good headless horseman?

♡ Tag List ♡

for everyone who interacted with these posts promoting (?) this fic (let me know if you'd like to be removed from the Tag List):

♡ @sanzosin ♡ @andaxay ♡ @admiralsweko ♡ @timothylawrenceatlas ♡ @elusivexx ♡ @yuuki-mishima ♡ @goddessluver27 ♡ @karedevil4ever ♡ @mordecaixhope ♡ @multi-ship-writer ♡ @anothergameofwickedgrace ♡ @z3pp3l1

©rin-bellatrix 2022

☆ borderlands masterlist �� main masterlist ☆

#rhyiona #rhyiona or bust #rhys strongfork #rhys the company man #rhys the ceo #fiona borderlands #fiona the con artist #fiona the vault hunter #borderlands #tales from the borderlands #tftbl #rin's fic #happy halloween #sasha the kid sister #the headless horseman

[pkg4mumtown]

Through Glass (Ch. 1)

Chapter 1: Sitting All Alone Inside Your Head

Rating: M

Summary: When Stephen lost you, he never thought he’d get another chance to have you. Until now, that is.

Alternatively: You’re convinced that your house is haunted in some way and recruit some help from your local wizard.

A/N: Hi all! This is a weird one. I kind of had a weird fever dream about it and started writing it out. It’s also loosely based off of Through Glass by Stone Sour. It’s going to be a few chapters long and I might do art for each chapter. We’ll see. Enjoy!

Warnings: Feelings of being watched, Multiversal Stalking, Possessive!Stephen, Eventual body horror, Gender Neutral Pronouns for Reader, No Y/N, First Person POV, What If AU where Reader dies instead of Christine, Strange-Supreme just needs a hug honestly, Stephen in Reader’s universe is a big dummy

Cause I'm looking at you through the glass

Don't know how much time has passed

All I know is that it feels like forever

When no one ever tells you that forever feels like home

Sitting all alone inside your head

-Through Glass by Stone Sour

The hustle and bustle of New York was almost immediately muffled as my attention was pulled to my phone. Nearly stumbling over the uneven cement, I dodged people as best as I could out of my peripheral vision while pulling my phone out and reading a short text.

“Can we hang out soon?? I miss you ☹️,” the text read from a good friend of mine, Oscar.

I smiled softly and nodded to myself, thinking quickly about when I’d be free this coming weekend, “Sure! Miss you, too! How about—"

The text remained unfinished and unsent as my phone tumbled from my fingers as I collided with a solid figure. Scalding liquid sloshed onto my hands, making me hiss quietly. I managed to catch my phone in wet hands before it could have an untimely meeting with the cement, wiping it and my hands onto dark parts of my clothing to avoid stains.

“Shit! I’m so sorry I—,” I paused, not really expecting to see a man in a…cape?

I also expected him to be more irritated—given our current location in New York—but he simply smiled tightly and righted the cups, “It’s okay, it’s mostly all here,” he gestured to his two to-go cups of, presumably, tea since my hands didn’t reek of coffee. “Are your hands okay?”

“I’m fine, really. Um, I can go grab you another?”

“I promise, it’s fine,” his warm, soothing chuckle drifted through the noisy crowd around us.

I inspected him closer, from his graying temples to his neatly trimmed goatee, to the cape around his shoulders, and the robes—did the cape just wave to me?

Then, it dawned on me.

The Wizard of Greenwich Village I’d heard about on social media and the news, with his orange sparkles, his part in the Blip, and constant battles with creatures in the streets of New York. Yes, the get-up finally made sense.

“Is there a—uh—cult meeting in town or something?” I asked, with a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

"Oh, yeah,” he droned sarcastically, “Specially laced tea and all,” he laughed again. “Doctor Stephen Strange,” he offered.

“The wizard guy, right?” The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them. Of course, he’s not called a “wizard”, that’s probably extremely offensive. He probably thought I was a complete dumbass by now.

“Or, the Wizard guy,” he pursed his lips awkwardly.

An unfriendly shoulder slammed into me, reminding both of us that we were hogging a decent portion of the sidewalk.

“I’m gonna…” I pointed the direction I’d been walking, wanting desperately to leave before I could say anything else that could make me look like an idiot.

“Right,” he nodded and stepped forward with the crowd, both of us walking in different directions. “Nice to meet you…” I heard my name fall from his lips as his voice drifted away.

I shook my head, my brows knitting together as I stopped again, Funny, I didn’t tell him my name. By the time I turned to look at his retreating form, all trace of him was gone.

Returning home that evening, I set about making dinner and ignoring the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. The feeling of being watched was stronger today, but considering I lived alone, that feeling came and went often as I let my imagination take control. Shaking off the feeling as best as I could, I turned on some music so I wouldn’t feel so alone.

With a final stir in my pan and a flick of the knob for the burner, I reached up to my cabinets for a plate only to stop mid-air as I swore I saw something slither across my floor in the reflection of my microwave. For a second—I paused—blinking and trying to rationalize with myself that it was caused by something outside or that my hand blocked light—casting shadow over the surface. When that didn’t work, I turned around sharply, feeling around behind me for a knife. I held it down to my side as I crept around the corner, gulping as I mustered up the courage to turn the corner aggressively. However, when I did, the living room was empty. My eyes passed to the adjacent hallway, also empty. My rapidly beating heart pulled me out of my search, the thumping having grown so loud in my ears that I started to panic.

There’s nothing here, you’re just being paranoid.

But resigning the shadow as my imagination the first time, only made me expect to see something the rest of the night. Like turning and expecting to see another shadow disappear out of the corner of my eye, scaring myself more and probably making myself see things as a result.

I figured a cold shower was in order, as if it could reset my brain for fifteen minutes and shake these feelings away. I dressed for bed and tried to keep the lights on for as long as I could before shutting them off and passing out for the night.

The same feeling continued growing stronger every day after that, but only within the confines of my own house did I feel the true weight of the uncomfortable, piercing gaze. It got to the point that I spoke to the gaze like its own entity in my house, obviously not expecting or even wanting an answer, but acknowledging nonchalantly that something was there made it somehow less scary.

Reaching for my microwave to take out the warmed-up leftovers from a couple days ago, I once again saw the darkness slithering away, my brain trying so hard to rationalize it as a trick of the light on the reflective surface.

“What? Not in the mood for leftovers?” I murmured while slamming the microwave shut.

I hesitated as I saw the darkness peek back from the edge of the reflection as if it acknowledged me talking to it. I’m not fucking crazy. I looked closer as it paused and retreated quickly as if something pulled it away, focusing in on one crucial aspect: This tentacle-like shape didn’t go behind my wall at all. It rested on top of the reflection of my living room and kitchen, even my own face. If this was really in my house, I should be able to see it floating in the space in front of me. Therefore, it couldn’t be real, right?

Right?

I stared at my reflection, the burning plate in my hands long forgotten as I hoped to catch another glimpse of the shadowy appendage, but nothing came back. Maybe I needed to move up that eye doctor appointment.

So, like every other night, I stayed up with the lights on as long as I could—hoping my electricity bill and sleep wouldn’t suffer for it—before eventually passing out. Unlike every other night, though, I woke with a start and discovered it to only be three in the morning. I gulped, listening for what could have woken me up.

Neighbors?

Sirens?

Nothing.

The heavy gaze was back in full force, but as I squinted around my room, all the blinds were closed. It should have put me at ease, but not when I knew the issue was coming from inside and not outside. I glared harder into the shadows, hoping to finally see something but dreading to see a figure there all the same.

It wasn’t until I fixed my eyes on three glowing yellow orbs in my mirror, that I felt chills run along my skin in fear. I couldn’t place what they were at first, but my question was soon answered as they seemed to blink and focus in on me. I wished my blankets and mattress would smother and swallow me whole as the eyes just stared. I was awarded no such thing. All the bravery I mustered earlier to sass the shadow had left my quaking body in an instant and I had no smart-ass quips to hurl.

After a few tense minutes, the eyes blinked once more and seemed to follow the figure they belonged to as it turned around in the mirror until the eyes were no longer visible.

Strange-Supreme POV

Stephen. Couldn’t. Believe it.

He’d finally found you in a universe where you had no one else. Or, at least, it seemed that way. He watched you for a few days to make sure you really lived alone, his excitement bubbling to the point where he got sloppy and let you see parts of him. Once he saw that you warily began to welcome and acknowledge his timid presence, he showed you a little more but never all of him. He didn’t want to scare you, after all, considering his version of you hadn’t reacted so well to this monstrous form and he didn’t blame you. He was nervous, though, because sometimes this horrifying form was just easier to let out instead of keeping the monsters in him at bay. But, just like his version of you, he was reminded of just how brilliant you were as he watched you piece together the mystery he was laying out for you day by day, and it only made him fall harder for you.

As he watched you nervously shift in your bed under his watchful eye, he hoped you would come to accept him, love him even. So many times he’d looked across the multiverse only to find universes where you were already happy with him, happy with someone else, or dead because of him—just as he suffered now. And while he might look like a monster, he wouldn’t hurt you or destroy your happiness like that. No, he'd want you to come to him of your own will.

But if he had to suffer without his version of you and your version of him was too stupid to claim you…then this you—this you—was just for him.

Chapter 2

Bonus: A little close up of Strange-Supreme without all the overlays to simulate night:

#stephen strange x reader #gender neutral reader #doctor strange x reader #marvel fanfiction #my art #strange supreme x reader #ThroughGlassFic #series: through glass

[cumulohimbus]

Life Updates

This last weekend I went to a Pride fest a little over an hour away, and wild things ensued.

1. I ran into some friends I met at my local pride this last summer, and even though it took a second for us to recognize each other, it was phenomenal to see them. I ended up staying the night at their place (I'll get to why in a sec).

2. I ran into people I went to Catholic elementary/middle school with. They were running an art booth. It was cool to reconnect with people I'd shared a formative childhood experience with and not be the only one who ended up queer.

3. I ran into my now retired therapist, the one who helped me pursue an autism eval and who wrote the pivotal letter that allowed me to get top surgery. I gave him a hug. I'd only ever interacted with him virtually and he is much taller in person. He seems like he's happy and doing well.

4. I didn't see any furries about so I took it upon myself to don my mascot head, just to gauge the reaction. A lot of people came up to me and got pictures with me, including a mom and her kid who really loves furries. I don't even consider myself a furry; like, I don't participate in the community at all anymore. I just think my fursuit head turned out vvv cute, and I didn't spend around 2 years making it from scratch for it to just collect dust in a closet somewhere. It made me really happy that other people also thought it was cute. It was nice being Spark for a while.

5. I went to a drag show with my friends from the local Pride. We were in the front row. It was so cool to see professionals performing.

6. My friends and I went to an after party at a club. I'd never been to a club before and didn't know what to expect. It wasn't nearly as scary as I thought it would be until the end when the establishment closed and the cops were outside directing folks. While there I ran into someone I was in the Arts Magnet Program with in high school; they were there for their sister-in-law. They told me that whenever I'm ready, other former classmates would probably like to hear from me, and that they'd probably be more accepting of me than I realize.

I didn't achieve my goal of being kissed, but that's okay. I fell in love with my friends in more ways than I care to admit. Nothing more will come of it than friendship, and that's okay too. That's what I needed tbh. I realized the full extent of my loneliness and how badly I need friends right now. I didn't know how bad it was and now that I do, hopefully I can do something about it. I cried a lot, probably because I was more drunk than I've been in years. My friends let me stay at their apartment so I didn't have to sleep in my car.

7. The next day we went to a garden and saw lots of pretty plants and fountains, including the biggest, bluest Larkspurs I've ever seen in person before!!

8. I cried for approximately half of my drive back home. I probably should have pulled over, but I was running on less than an hour of sleep, and I had grad school homework I needed to finish before midnight, so I pushed through. I realized goodbyes have been getting harder. A couple of weekends ago when I visited college friends for the weekend, I cried for a long time on my drive home then too. It seems it didn't take long of being off T for my tear ducts to function again. Something else is wrong with me though, I shouldn't be crying so much over goodbyes; I have my suspicions. I'm sure a particular goodbye that happened more recently isn't helping, but mostly I think I just feel alienated from people like me where I live currently.

I need to get a new vehicle soon so I can travel more. I want to go on dates, both casual and serious, in the near future. I want to kiss and be kissed, if just to feel like I'm alive. I wish I wasn't a terrified kid in a 25 year old's body. I feel like I can't be taken seriously when it comes to romance because of the ways my trauma has broken me into the person I am today (tbf, being transmasc means I look like a 14 year old boy, so that doesn't help the whole maturity thing either).

I'm coming to terms with how much grief I carry with me everyday. I think that's the most alienating part of it all; I think that's where all the loneliness comes from.

Sadness aside, I really like grad school so far. It doesn't feel hard yet because it's all stuff that interests me. I also got a really nice scholarship package for my first year and that's pretty cool. I'll finally feel alright ordering the print copies of my book, Fidelity to share with friends/family. The sequel, Autonomy, is currently in the works. They're both basically zines that ended up being lengthier than initially intended, and they include a mix of poetry, prose, and photography. I know I don't really have a following here, but if it just so happens that you read all the way to this sentence, if you'd like a free pdf of Fidelity, hmu, I'd be happy to send one your way.

Be kind to yourselves, and stay curious,

-Lark

#the larkchive

[iviarellereads]

A note on coverage of The Neverending Story on this blog

The Neverending Story isn't the most obvious choice of follow-up project to The Locked Tomb.

It's an incredibly old story, first published even before I was born, and I've been around a good while. It's got nothing in common tonally or thematically. There aren't any pop culture references I expect to be able to draw out because I am not German, and while I've studied it to a Duolingo baseline as well as in a course in school, I don't have a founding in their pop culture, past or present, to be able to pick out any references anyway.

(And yes, if you didn't know, it's a story in translation! An art form in itself. My copy is the 1983 Ralph Manheim translation, though it's a 2005 reissue edition. I know that some other English translations exist, though, so if anyone has one of those, please feel invited to comment on anything you think seems a little different from how I describe it, or where my direct quotes differ from yours!)

But it is a great and nearly timeless story about stories, something to sink my teeth into over the summer.

It's been many years since I read the book or watched the films the writer disavowed and even asked that his name be removed from the credits of, so I'm spoiled for this one, but not so much that I expect full-spoiler weekend posts.

So, whether you've read it recently, or long ago, or never at all, please be welcome with me on this journey into The Neverending Story.

Link index

Introduction

A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z

#blog housekeeping #the neverending story #tns index

[boba-beom]

My apologies for answering late, this week has been so busy and I spent pretty much all day yesterday doing homework. I hope your week went well though! I hope the tree's didn't do much damage to anyone's items or harm anyone! Waterboarding sounds so cool!! I do not know if I have heard of it! I get what you mean though! I am also scared of heights! Oh my goodness I love scenery and nature!! I love getting to look outside on drives or just spend time outside! Hmm that's good question! I used to figure skate a ton and I have been really wanting to get back into it, as well as roller skating! Maybe also some other sports or crafting thing! I do love to do arts and crafts!! How are you today? Do you have any plans for your day?

don't worry about it feyre!! just don't overwork yourself okay? my week was alright, I had to take this weekend to look after myself a little more. the weather's started to get colder again, as expected from british weather. I think I've only seen yeonjun waterboarding from last year's talk x today(?). looking out the window is one of my favourite things to do while travelling, I realised that my attention span has decreased a whole lot and I don't know if that's the stress kicking in and I end up feeling quite agitated with myself, but that calms me down.

omg figure skating!! that sounds so fun! how did you find it and how long did you figure skate for? I used to have a pair of roller skates when I was younger and it had tinkerbell on it hehe

have you done a lot of sports?? and yes, I agree. arts and crafts are super fun and I love how art is different to everyone :>

I'm doing okay, I had to take a photo to update my passport for the summer and then later on in the evening my flatmate's friends are coming over to watch the fourth Harry Potter movie! how's your day been??

#ᥫ᭡ : asks. #[ 🧸 ] — mutuals. #feyregels ♡ #[ 🎐 ] — miss gyu q.

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

Sincerely, Your Fellow Choi

@yyxgin Happy birthday, my beloved! I know this is way too late to be justifiable, and I have no real excuse. Just life and oversights, but never once do I want you to think I forgot about celebrating your birthday <3 It was literally on the list of things I most wanted to do this year—celebrate an amazing friend like you. So I hope you enjoy!

.

.

.

April 16th, Saturday 11:55 PM

For the past couple of weeks, I've been getting an email every Sunday at 12AM exactly, like it's scheduled.

Taehyun kept telling me not to open them 'cause they could be viruses, but I'm dumb (as he likes to playfully remind me), so I didn't listen to him.

I opened one a few weeks ago, which led to opening all the ones I'd received up to that point. And now I'm sitting here, anxiously scrawling down whatever I can while waiting for the next one to show up. My leg is shaking like crazy.

They weren't spam like I originally thought. They're very well thought-out and written with love. Each email is an instruction manual of how to fall in love with (Y/F/N).

I wouldn't say we're friends, but we know each other from high school (which is something I've tried to leave far, far behind me), and we talk sometimes.

We have one or two overlapping classes, but we're not lunch buddies by any means necessary. She's nice enough. I remember her making chocolates for me once for a school-wide Secret Santa thing we did.

They were pretty good. Nothing to write home about, though.

But for some reason, someone out there who signs off all their emails with the phrase "sincerely, your fellow Choi", seems to want me to think that she's got a massive crush on me and we're a match made in heaven.

At first, I thought it was silly—maybe a prank from one of her friends or something. But y'know how you just get vibes sometimes? It just feels too absurd not to be true.

I'm not saying I've fallen for her just because of a few emails, but I am saying I've learned a lot about her through these email, and I can't really tell if that's creepy or not.

How is it that I've never once noticed her before reading these emails? She's been walking in and out of my life for well over 6 years, yet I've never given her a second thought.

She was always just there, doing her own thing. She had her friends, and I had mine—if you could really call them that. None of them cared enough to keep in touch with me after high school.

I don't know why this random Choi is trying to get me interested in this girl from a past that I'm trying to forget, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't working.

Oh! Hold up.

The new email just came. Gotta go—I'll try to write more tomorrow.

April 18th, Monday 10:31 PM

Okay, so obviously, I forgot to write more yesterday. My bad. But no one's ever gonna see this anyway, so it's okay.

This works out though, 'cause I did something kinda crazy today. I decided to join the art club, 'cause (Y/N)'s a part of it. Taehyun thinks I'm insane, and Kai kindly reminded me that I can barely draw a stick figure, but I think this will be good for me in the long-run.

I can get closer to her in my own time, and I can see what she's actually like—not just what the emails want me to believe.

And maybe I can finally face high school again in a new light. Maybe now that I'm an adult, I won't be so scared.

April 19th, Tuesday 6:22 PM

Art is way harder than expected. I thought I'd pick it up pretty fast, but nah. I was wrong. This looks like chicken scratch.

On the upside, I talked to (Y/N) today. She could tell I was struggling, so she scooched over and whispered some shading tips while the team leader went over the assignment. She even offered to give me some drawing lessons on the weekends.

She didn't ask why I joined an art club, even though I'm a terrible artist.

It was nice. She was nice.

And she wasn't like how I remembered. I remembered someone more rambunctious and self-assured, and I guess that's why she always intimidated me.

Not to say she's not self-assured now, just more quiet about it. I can't tell if she's grown up, or if she's changed.

I also can't figure out why I haven't done either of those things yet.

April 23th, Saturday 3:00 PM

I had my first drawing lesson with (Y/N) today. She's such a good artist—it's kind of scary.

The emails keep talking about this hidden crush she's got on me, but I don't know if I fully believe it. I don't think I make her nervous at all.

She just smiles and talks and hums while she sketches. I don't seem to have an affect on her. She's just nice to me, like she is to everyone else.

And for some reason, that upsets me. The emails have been so accurate about everything else—her favorite colors, her hobbies, her favorite song, her allergies—yet it feels like they got her feelings for me all wrong.

I don't know why I'm upset about this. I've already told myself I'm not catching feelings, just seeing for myself what all the fuss is about. But still... I'm a little disappointed.

I guess I just expected more.

May 24th, Tuesday 8:01 PM

Wow, I kinda forgot about this. It's been a while since my last entry, but don't worry—it's for a good reason. (Y/N) and I have actually been hanging out a lot these days, and it's been fun.

Most of the time, it's for club things or art lessons, but sometimes we walk to class together or grab some coffee. And remember how I said we weren't lunch buddies? Well, we are now.

And we get along pretty well! She's funny. And I'm starting to think the crush thing might be more accurate than I thought.

I don't have any solid proof, but sometimes I swear I can feel her staring at me when she thinks I'm not paying attention. And she's always respectful of my personal bubble, yet tries to sit as close to me as possible without touching.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it, or maybe it's my man brain trying to convince me, "oh yeah, dude. She's for sure into you", but either way, I'm kinda hoping I'm right.

In these few weeks I've spent truly noticing her and having her in the forefront of my life instead of on the sidelines, I've realized that I wouldn't hate it if she had a crush on me.

In fact, I'd be honored. She's cool.

May 30th, Monday 7:45 AM

This is gonna be a short entry 'cause I'm already late for class, but I just had to jot this down real quick in case I forget.

I think I figured out who the 'fellow Choi' is. The emails reminded me that (Y/N)'s close to that jock guy, Choi Yeonjun. They've been friends and neighbors since they were little, and he went to the same high school as us, just a year ahead.

I vaguely remember him as one of the hooligans she used to skateboard around with, but the memory's fuzzy.

I've seen them hanging out before, but I didn't realize they were that tight. If there's anyone who would know that much about her, it'd be him. I'm gonna confront him tomorrow, so we'll see what happens.

May 31st, Tuesday 5:53 PM

Yeah, so that whole confronting thing? It didn't go so well. I now have confirmation that he's not the fellow Choi, but I also have a bloody nose, so I don't know if I've accomplished anything.

It was a real 'one step forward, two steps back' kind of situation. From what I've seen of him around campus, he seems like a very chill, friendly guy, and you can tell he cares for (Y/N) like a brother.

So you can imagine my surprise when I said 'hi' and his first reaction was to grab me by the collar, shove me against a brick wall, and sock me in the nose.

What I hate most was the eyes it attracted. I just know there's gonna be rumors about us fighting for (Y/N)'s hand or some crap.

All in all, something tells me he doesn't like me. He told me to stay away from (Y/N) if I didn't have the 'right intentions'.

His exact words were, "The Chois in her life have already given her enough shit, and if you add on to that, I swear to God, I'll break so much more than your nose."

It was definitely a change from the guy I'd seen ruffling (Y/N)'s hair and giving her noogies while complimenting her latest artwork and calling her a nerd.

I'm scared and angry, for sure, but also just confused. I feel like there's more to this story that I'm not getting or hasn't been revealed to me yet. I feel left behind.

And also, I wish he'd been more clear as he threatened me. What are my intentions supposed to be?

'Cause I think I'm falling for her. And if that's not Choi Yeonjun approved, how am I just supposed to just stop these feelings from growing?

Would it even be possible at this point?

June 2nd, Thursday 9:10 PM

I emailed back the fellow Choi the other day. I wanted to see if they knew what I did to hurt (Y/N) and Yeonjun in the past.

They never answered.

June 13th, Monday 11:11 AM

(Y/N) made Yeonjun apologize to me. Not gonna lie, it was a little gratifying to see that tough guy all humbled and grumbly while she glared up at him and demanded an apology.

All-in-all, even though it was forced, he seemed pretty genuine. He even asked how my nose was doing. I told him it wasn't broken, and I think (for the most part) there are no lingering hard feelings between us.

Except for the ones he's hiding from me—the ones that I assume have been there for a long time. And he must've said something to (Y/N), 'cause she's been weird too. Not mean or cold, just distant. Lost in her thoughts, even when we're together.

I wonder if he brought up some memories from the past that she'd forgotten or repressed. I kind of resent him for that a little, 'cause things were going well between us, and now I don't know what to do with my feelings.

They're getting too strong to keep inside, but would it be insensitive to confess now? I don't even know anymore. I'm so confused.

More than anything, I just wanna know what I did. I must've been either really self-absorbed or incredibly insecure in high school, because I'm coming to realize that I never really noticed anyone.

It was always just me in my little bubble, and even with my friends, I never let them get too close. As I'm writing this, I also kinda realize that I'm the only person stopping myself from making genuine connections with others.

And that pretty much decides it for me. I'm gonna confess to her this weekend—just you watch.

June 19th, Sunday 10:30 PM

Today might be one of my favorite days ever. I spent the whole day with (Y/N), and for the first time in a while, it didn't feel awkward.

I would kind of consider this our first date. We went out for breakfast, then we talked for hours and realized, "Oh, we should probably get lunch." And after lunch, we didn't wanna say goodbye, so we decided to go for a walk. "Work off the calories," she said.

By that time, we were hungry again, so she invited me to her dorm for an improvised snack dinner. It certainly wasn't gourmet, but it was tasty, and it was fun to make it together.

She looked so pretty. She didn't even do anything special—she just looked nice. So I told her. Then one thing led to another, and I was rambling and going on and on, and then I finally got it out.

Those three words I'd been trying to spit out all day. "I like you."

And guess what? She likes me too. She actually, genuinely likes me. And before I left, you know that she did? She gave me a kiss on the hand.

Not on the cheek, not on the lips, but on my hand. I've never gotten butterflies like that before. It's so weird to think that now... I have a girlfriend. It's wild.

It was really cool seeing her place, too. I remembered her skateboarding back in high school (hard to forget with the emails proudly remind me every five seconds), but she actually has medals and stuff from competitions she entered in with her old team.

Yeonjun was on that team too, apparently. She had a framed picture of them proudly showing off their second place trophy with their arms slung over each other's shoulders.

Cute picture. A little small for the frame, though. Maybe I should get her a new one.

July 10th, Sunday 12:15 AM

I think I just got the last email. It felt ominous, like a permanent goodbye. "I can't have her back anymore, so I'm leaving it up to you. If you haven't fallen for her at this point, please at least just be her friend. I'm sure Yeonjun's all she's got. Be good to her."

And as always, signed off with that 'sincerely, your fellow Choi'. I'm not sure why, but when I read it this time, I got goosebumps all over my body.

It was like I'd been talking to a ghost. They were there, and then they were gone—like a cool breeze or a puff of smoke.

It feels empty.

September 3rd, Saturday 9:45 PM

(Y/N) got mad at me for the first time today. We were doing some studying at her place, and I was admiring the pictures and medals on her wall while she was in the bathroom.

But I'm a klutz, so of course, I ended up knocking something over. It was that framed picture of her and Yeonjun. The glass shattered and the back fell out, and I swear I felt my heart drop into my stomach.

All I could think was 'shit, shit, I just broke the important thing', and like a little kid, my first thought was to get rid of the evidence.

Now, realistically, there was nothing I could do about the glass in such a short time, but I thought if I could just pop the panel back on and make sure the framing wasn't damaged...

But that's when I noticed the picture, slightly peeking out from the broken frame. It was too small because it had been folded.

I wasn't trying to pry. I wasn't trying to look at it.

But it was there, unfolded right in front of me. And I could see that in the previously folded up corner, (Y/N) had her arm wrapped another guy. A guy with longish black hair, his nose scrunched up by a big, toothy grin, and a skateboard pinned under his arm.

The three of them looked so happy together. A perfect little trio. And when I looked at the guy, I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity.

When (Y/N) finally came out, she blew up at me. I couldn't tell if it was because of the fact that I broke her frame, or because I saw the other half of that picture.

Now, (Y/N)'s not a petty person, so if I had to guess... I'd say it was the latter. I wanna know who he is. I wanna know why he feels so familiar. And I wanna know why he hurts her so much.

So much so that she would fold him out of a picture, but not find it within herself too throw it away.

But I'm dumb, so I didn't say any of those things. We just argued. I stormed out.

I regret it.

September 7th, Wednesday 4:32 PM

We've made up. That's what we say, anyway. But it's awkward, with just a hint of tension.

I've tried talking it out with her, asking about that guy, but she says she doesn't want to talk about it.

I'm not experienced enough for this. I don't know what's right. I don't know when to push and when to let it lie.

I'm scared to mess this up.

Soobin laid dead asleep in his room, disturbed by an incessant tap-tap-tap.

With a groan, he rolled over in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp and instinctively checking the time on his phone. Two in the morning. He groaned again as the tapping only became more insistent.

In his bleary daze, he managed to glance at the window, doing a double-take as he saw a shadowy figure outside of it. His eyes widened, pulling the sheets up and over his nose as slowly as possible. The tapping stopped, and he could’ve sworn he saw the figure sigh.

Moments later, his phone buzzed with a notification.

“It’s me, coward,” the notification read.

With a start, he jumped up, swinging his window open with expert speed, successfully shocking the person on the other side of the glass. “(Y/N)!” he gasped, grabbing her wrists and pulling her back towards him as she lost her balance.

He reared backward, pulling her into the room and landing them both on the bed with a thump, Soobin splayed flat on his back and (Y/N) nestled somewhat comfortably into his shoulder. “What were you doing on the roof, you idiot?” he asked, hands instinctively going to rub up and down her back.

“I didn’t wanna wake your roommates...” she said sheepishly. “They probably heard me scream, though.”

Soobin shook his head, biting back the chuckle that rose in his throat. “Nah, don’t worry too much,” he said. “They sleep like rocks.” He took a moment to bask in the silence between them. This was the most carefree they’d been together in a while. “So what brings you here this cold evening?”

She propped herself up a little, examining his face with a hint of something in her eyes. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but maybe guilt? She cupped his cheek. 

“Have I ever told you why I like you?” she asked softly. Soobin only shook his head. “It’s ‘cause you care so much more than you think you do. You’re so humble, and you always underestimate yourself, but you’re the coolest, most kindest guy out there.” He felt butterflies whirl up in his stomach like the first time she kissed his hand. “I just needed to tell you that.”

Soobin could feel himself tearing up, but he willed himself to suck it in. “Well... Thank you,” he said. He wanted to say anything else. He wanted to list all the reasons he liked her and how he’d started finding peace and self-acceptance through her, but no words came out—like a blubbering fish out of water.

“Can I introduce you to someone?” (Y/N) asked, seemingly to instinctively know that he wouldn’t be able to get anything out.

Soobin blinked in confusion. “What, like... right now?” he asked.

She nodded. “If we don’t do this now, I’m worried I’ll get too scared again.”

Now, he could give a million viable excuses on why he couldn’t go. He’s tired, he has early morning classes, it’s nearly freezing—but none of that mattered. He wanted to do whatever she wanted to do.

It’d easily been an hour, and they were only getting further from the familiar territory of their campus grounds. Soobin could feel himself dozing off again, but he urged himself not to. Even if he felt like shit in the morning, he was gonna stay awake for this.

“Where are we goin’?” he asked from the passenger seat of (Y/N)’s dumpy old car that stubbornly refused not to die, like a spiteful great-aunt.

“We’re almost there,” she said cryptically, gripping the steering wheel ever so slightly tighter. “Just give it a sec. It’s on the left.”

Soobin blinked hard and mussed up his hair, trying to make himself more presentable. He was still in his pajamas, so the least he could do would be to look awake. He glance at all the signs as they passed by buildings, each one of them not likely to be their stop.

When she finally slowed down and flicked on her blinker, Soobin’s heart dropped, the words ‘columbarium’ staring him in the face like the barrel of a gun. “(Y/N)—” he started.

She shook her head. “Don’t say anything yet,” she instructed gently. “Just wait till we get inside.” She took a pause while she put the car in park. “And hold my hand. I haven’t been here in a while.”

With her hand tightly grasped in his and the car locked behind them, they made their way into the building. Already, it was a sad, humbling atmosphere—seeing all the urns, photos, bouquets, and letters from family pinned up on the wall. There was so much love and sorrow, all contained in one place.

Finally, (Y/N) stopped in front of one specific niche. ”Meet Beomgyu,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice. “One of my best friends, and your fellow Choi.” In the picture frame behind the cage of glass stood a very familiar boy with longish black hair, a toothy grin, and a crinkled nose.

Soobin looked at her with wide eyes. “How did you—?”

“You left your diary at my place,” she said. “I’m sorry I was nosy, but I couldn’t help but read it. And by doing that, I realized how much I’ve been making you suffer on your own, and I’m so sorry.” She gripped his hand tighter, making eye contact with him. “Will you forgive me?”

His heart ached. “There’s nothing to forgive, honestly...” he said, voice barely above a whisper. It felt rude to speak any louder in a place full of the deceased.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, y’know,” she said. “It’s not a fair relationship if we’re always walking on eggshells around each other. So I’ll share some of my scars with you tonight, and you can share yours when you’re ready. I might not get all your questions answered, but I'll start.”

He felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t help but feel grateful to Choi Beomgyu for leading him to such a great girl.

He nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I promise I'll do the same for you later.” He looked back at Beomgyu’s picture. The longer he looked at it, the more bits and pieces of memories from high school came flooding back in.

(Y/N), Yeonjun, and Beomgyu. The kids who always rode into school on their skateboards, zooming past everyone on the way through the front gates while laughing and shouting jokes at each other. Soobin was pretty separate from their friend group, but out of all of them, he was most familiar with Beomgyu.

He was the class clown. Everyone loved him, and he loved making everyone laugh—even at his own expense. Yeonjun was always the one to back him up with a smile on his face, even when he called him a dumbass. And (Y/N) was always the one following quietly behind them, cleaning up thier messes.

But she never seemed to mind. She didn’t even care that as they walked down the halls, people would call out “Hey, Beomgyu!” or “Hey, Yeonjun!”, but no one ever called out for her.

“Tell me about him,” Soobin said.

She took a deep breath. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How’d you become friends?”

She cracked a little smile, though he could still see the pain lacing it from the scabbed over wound on her heart that had yet to fully heal. “Yeonjun and Beomgyu were nextdoor neighbors, I lived across the street,” she said. “Their mom’s were best friends, and I moved to the neighborhood with my folks later on. Y’know how moms always want you be comfortable and have friends you can count on?”

Soobin chuckled. “For sure,” he said. “Even if I got a terrible report card, my mom’s first instinct was still to scold me on how I didn’t put in enough effort to make friends.”

“My mom was the same,” she said. “So about a week after we moved in, she said, ‘C’mon! Let’s go say hi to the neighbors’ sons!’ I was shy and I didn’t wanna go, but God, am I glad I did. They were both at Beomgyu's place, and as soon as I got through the front door, they dragged me upstairs to play Mario Kart and then outside to shoot each other with nerf guns.”

Her smile grew, more genuine this time. “I didn’t have time to be nervous, not with their hyper-active asses. From that point on, we basically grew up together. They were like my big brothers. Whatever they did, I wanted to do it too. That’s why I started skating, y’know.”

“Now, Beomgyu... I don’t even know how to describe him. He was like a whirlwind, y’know? He was crazy, confident, a little overzealous at times, but sweet. He always remembered the little things about you, and even though his loudness could be a little annoying at first, once he went quiet with you, you felt like something was missing."

She sighed through her nose. "I miss his voice," she said rawly, as if she hadn't allowed herself to admit that for the past couple of years.

“The three of us went through life, did everything together, talked about how we were gonna get matching tattoos once we graduated, and then one day, we were all skating—practicing for a competition, actually—and Beomgyu fell.” Her voice grew quieter at the end. 

“Beomgyu never fell. He said he felt dizzy and his head hurt. We thought he must’ve hit it on the way down, so we rushed him off the the hospital—a bunch of scared teenagers. And that’s where they discovered it. A weird hybrid type of acute myeloid leukemia.”

Soobin squeezed her hand tighter. She appreciated it. “Most people live at least 5 years after being diagnosed, but Beomgyu didn’t have that time. It was too late and too developed. He had a little under a year.”

Soobin’s heart ached. No wonder it was  painful memory. She lost her best friend when she was just a kid. “That must’ve been awful for you,” he whispered, stepping a little closer to her, just to let her feel his warmth.

“It was,” she agreed softly. “What’s worse though is that I spent those last 6 months lying straight to his face.”

 Soobin gave her a questioning look.

“Yeonjun cornered me one day. Told me that Beomgyu had been in love with me for a few years, but I never even noticed,” she said. In Soobin’s head, that made sense. And it explained the affection behind the emails’ tone. “And he never confessed ‘cause he didn’t wanna mess up our friendship, and then he thought he’d lost his shot, ‘cause I started crushing on you.”

“But Yeonjun looked me straight in the eyes as we stood by a vending machine in the hospital at almost 11:30 one night and said, ‘Beomgyu’s gonna confess to you tonight. Please accept him’.” 

She let out a dry laugh at the memory. “I didn’t know what to say. It’s not that I was disgusted by the thought of being with him or that I was particularly hung up on you—I just thought you were cute at that point—but I just didn’t feel... anything. No sparks. And that’s not how love’s supposed to be.”

“So I though I’d turn him down gently,” she continued. “Knowing Beomgyu, I thought he’d be happy to just get it off his chest, and then we could spend his last few months as we always had. The unbeatable trio.”

She leaned her head on Soobin’s shoulder, feeling drained and tired. “But when I got into his room, he’d prepared flowers, and balloons, and a handwritten letter, and a big romantic speech, and I just... 

She nuzzled closer into his shoulder. "I didn’t have the heart. He’d never had a girlfriend before, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was all my fault. Maybe he was waiting for me and I just never got to that point. So I accepted him. I’ve never seen him look so relieved. He almost cried.”

“So I went six months... Pretending to be in love with him. But I think he knew. I think he knew my heart wasn’t in it, and that’s what made it even worse. He would apologize all the time with that sad smile on his face, and it just made me feel even worse.”

“So I tried harder to be a good girlfriend, made myself feel even worse, argued with Yeonjun all the time ‘cause I felt like he was only thinking about Beomgyu, and overall, I just screwed everything up. He had less than a year left with us and I wasted it lying to him. I didn’t even do it well. It all felt pointless.”

“Especially when I knew for sure he knew. He told me he was gonna repay me someday for helping him live out his short dream, even though it was hard for me. I guess he held up his end.” 

She looked up, meeting eyes with Soobin, his dark orbs damp with sympathy. “He gave me you, the crazy bastard. Guess he knew five years would probably be enough for me not to totally hate myself anymore,” she chuckled. “That way, I could love properly again.”

She looked back at the niche, staring intently at Beomgyu’s portrait, as well as the smaller pictures laid out around it. Pretty much all of them had herself and Yeonjun inside of them, right next to Beomgyu and his dopey grin.

“He never let me kiss him,” she said. “I tried, but he never let me. He always joked and said ‘cooties’, but I know it’s ‘cause he didn’t want me to waste my first kiss on a lie. He was good like that.”

Without him realizing it, Soobin had started crying. Not a harsh sob or a broken whimper, just thick tears pouring out of his stinging, red eyes. He couldn’t tell if he was saddened by the story or thankful for the gesture.

Wordlessly, he faced the niche, giving a deep bow. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for giving me your best friend. I can tell how much you love her.”

In that moment, the air changed. It felt warmer.

Maybe somewhere out there, in a different timeline or dimension, Beomgyu was flashing his dopey smile, happy that another one of his hair-brained schemes worked out. 

#kpop #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop drabbles #kpopidol #txt #tomorrow x together #soobin #choi soobin #beomgyu #choi beomgyu

[twignotstick]

TMNT: SECOND SHOT - Arc 1, Chapter 1: Introductions and Invitations ✉️

Notes at the end :)

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): vague descriptions of bodily functions?? nothing is described grossly or anything (turtles don't only hide in their shells as a defense mechanism, mah boys aren't quite all there yet) (be kind) (he will be mocked at a later time 💀), sort-of homelessness, feral behavior

Words: 3,480

Summary: April really just expected a normal day.

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

April hadn't expected her day to end with hauling herself out of a manhole, with unmentionable gunk and liquid caked into her pants.

But, then again, she hadn't expected the day to start the way it did, either.

She had been finishing the same breakfast that her and her roommate had been reheating for the past 3 days: a batch of muffins that they had bought at a gas station for wicked cheap. Said roommate, Irma, was pulling her pants on and talking to the room about all the things she was going to do with her Friday.

When April got to college, she thought she might not be straight. When she met Irma, she knew she wasn't. Irma was a tall, Latina woman, with a muscular build. She always had her frizzy hair up in a messy bun on top of her head, and half of it was constantly falling out around her face. April didn't want to date her by any means, but Irma was hot. And very straight.

“Soo, what do you say?” Irma said, leaning over April's shoulder and snapping her out of her distant stupor.

“Uhm, sorry?” April stammered, pushing her cat eye glasses up and grabbing her empty plate. “I don't think I caught what you said.”

“Uuuugh, come on Roja-” Irma groaned, flinging her head back, “I said there's a party tonight at Taylor's! You should totally come out! We'll get you wasted!”

Irma was a party animal, and yet she excelled in all her classes in pursuit of her medical degrees (general physician with additional studies on the side). April, on the other hand, worked her butt off for Ds and Cs. In journalism.

April stood up and brought her plate over to the sink to rinse before putting it in the dishwasher.  “I don't think that'd be that good of an idea, Irm. I don't turn 21 for another few months, and I'm not exactly,” she held her hand out flat in a shaky gesture, “party material..?”

“Party material?” Irma gasped, shoving herself into April's view looking into the dishwasher. “Girl, you could decimate that place. Besides, Casey's gonna be there…” Irma finished, raising her tone slightly and speaking over her shoulder.

April's eyes suddenly widened. “You mean CJ, right?” she asked, moving to grab her jacket by the door.

“Well, CJ too, of course, but…” Irma turned to grab her backpack off the floor by the couch. “I mean Cassie Casey Jones.”

Trepidation showed itself as April pulled her jacket on. “I'll… think about it. I have to check some spots tonight, but if I have free time after, I'll come.”

“Ooooo, I knew you wouldn't let me down, Roja!” Irma squealed, grabbing around April's torso from behind and lifting her to give a tight spinning hug. “I can't wait to see you there!”

As Irma rushed out the door, April tried to call after her, reminding her that her attendance was tentative, but Irma was long gone by the time she had the chance. April was left to sit in their messy apartment for just a moment longer. After looking around and promising herself that she'll clean up over the weekend, April headed out to her first class.

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

After her final class had ended, she waited on a bench for a while until CJ finally showed up. CJ had been April's best friend since day 1 of college. Sure, they didn't have any classes in common, and CJ was in studio arts and not journalism, but they stuck together like glue. CJ always wore baggy clothes over his lanky limbs, and today was no different. An oversized gray tie dye t-shirt covered more than half of his frame, with a screen printed design of a tiger on the front that he had made. Below that was a pair of huge baggy black cargo pants, almost entirely covering his white Vans. His black bangs hung limply on his face, and as soon as he appeared, April got up and they started walking.

The two had a schedule. Every Friday, after CJ got out of his last class, they would meet in the same spot and walk down to their favorite pizza place to eat dinner and talk. Sometimes they'd go get Chinese instead, if they were looking for something different. Usually the walk over would be when they talked about what already happened that day, and future discussions would wait until they had food. This was not one of those days.

“So you're seriously going to a college party?” CJ asked, slouching his posture to make the conversation a bit more comfortable for the shorter one. “How did Irma talk you into that?”

“Well, she said you're going too,” April mumbled, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets before speaking up again. “Wait, you are going, right?”

“You think I'd leave you there alone to get eaten alive?” CJ said, smirking. “But seriously, you've never wanted to go when I mentioned I was going to a party.”

April's face reddened just a bit as she turned it away, and CJ caught the subtle change. 

“She told you Cassie was coming, didn't she?”

“So what if she did!? I'm allowed to want to go to a party to hang out with a pretty girl, okay?!” April blurted out, scowling in CJ's face before turning away and crossing her arms across her chest with a pout.

April had met Cassie shortly after CJ. Well, “met” was a strong word. It was more “saw from a distance and stared in awe”. That was when she really figured out she wasn't straight. A beautiful, cute, tough girl who plays hockey and has a brain? What more could she ask for?

Maybe a tough enough spine to talk to her.

CJ just laughed and wrapped his arm around April's shoulders. “You should just let me set you guys up already. I mean, I think she thinks you're-”

“No!” April whined, grabbing CJ's shirt with the arm that wasn't being wrestled behind his back. “You can't do that! That's weird! I can't just get you to set me up with your cousin, she's gonna think I'm a weirdo, CJ!”

CJ sighed and pried April's hand off his chest, holding it to look into her eyes and halt their pace forward. “You're already being a weirdo, Apes. You've had one conversation with her. You'll never know unless you try.”

April clutched a little tighter on CJ's hand and looked to the ground between them. She was being weird, wasn't she? Normal people don't show up to hockey practices just to watch from the sidelines, even when the guy she usually talks to isn't there. Normal people don't hurry to leave when they see their crush's car pulling up to pick their best friend up. Man, she really wasn't being subtle, was she?

“Promise me you'll come. I'll get you guys talking. Sound good?” CJ said, lifting April's hand a bit to get her attention up to his face. He showed her a gentle smile, a smile reserved for just her.

April let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine, I'll be there,” she said, changing her hold on CJ's hand so they could continue walking side by side to go eat.

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

April was one of many students that helped with the school's public news. They liked getting local stories, and students could get those pretty easily. April had just, coincidentally, been stuck reporting on one of the seediest parts of the area. She had already been almost mugged twice, actually mugged once, and suspiciously stared at more times than she could count. And she had only been scoping out the place for a week.

April had actually found a really nice place that had really nice food, but the blind owner didn't seem to realize how many terrible things happened just outside its walls. She decided that tonight, that would be her first stop. She still had yet to find any good stories to post that wouldn't get someone arrested or her in trouble, but maybe Murakami would have some good news for her.

As April opened the door to the small establishment and heard the ding of the bell, she was welcomed by a heavily accented voice. “Welcome in, please sit wherever you like.”

April quickly pulled a stool out at the bar to sit on. “Good evening, Mister Murakami,” she said, tapping a bit on the table to get his attention. “How are you?”

The blind man's face brightened by leaps and bounds at the familiar company. “Hello again, Miss O'Neil. I was not expecting to see you back again this soon.”

Murakami had a friendly face, wrinkles only deepened by decades of smiling and laughing. The hair on his head was thinning, and there was an obvious bald spot in the center of his scalp. Usually, April would see him wearing a pair of dark, circular sunglasses. Tonight, however, she saw that the lights inside the building were dimmed, and Murakami's thin gray eyes were on full display.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” April said, settling her bag off her shoulder and onto the floor beside her. “I still haven't found a good story yet.”

“Oh,” Murakami said, handling a bowl and putting it to the side of a tall boiling pot. “I am sure you will find something soon. You are such a curious girl.”

April shifted in her seat. “Uhm, Mister Murakami?” She said, leaning forward a bit. “I was wanting to ask you about anything interesting going on? Something local I could write about? Maybe about you?”

Murakami's eyebrows raised at the question. He started ladling soup from the large pot into the bowl in his other hand. “Oh, Miss O'Neil, I don't have anything interesting going on,” he said with a chuckle, “I am not an interesting person!” He laughed for a moment, before his face shifted to be more contemplative. “Well, there is my trash…” he mumbled under his breath, putting the filled bowl of soup in front of April. “Eat up, it's on me.”

“Oh, thank you Mister Murakami!” April said, happily grabbing the ceramic spoon presented to her and taking a scoop of soup to blow on. “Uhm, what did you mean by ‘your trash’? Could you elaborate?”

Murakami looked confused by the word choice.

“Could you tell me more?”

“Oh,” Murakami said, continuing to ladle the soup out. “It is nothing exciting, just a little odd, really.” He scooped silently for a moment, filling a few packages to be sold by the door so they could be reheated. April admired the business model.

“My trash has been getting looked through by someone every few days for a few years. I figured it was just some person in need. I even saw them once! Not well, of course, I haven't seen well for many years. Very brightly colored clothing.”

“Okay,” April asked, pulling her phone out to take notes. “What about this is odd?”

“Well,” he continued, “as of a few months ago, I have reason to believe that…” Murakami paused, closing the lid of a plastic container tightly. “That whatever is searching through my trash is not human.”

April sat more upright on the stool, stopping her motion to take a sip of the delicious soup in front of her. “And what reason is that?”

“A strange smell left behind,” Murakami said, stacking the packages of soup and moving them to the side, “and claw marks, deep enough in the walls that I could feel them. Mostly near my fence. And recently, it has been taking more. It must be getting hungrier.”

April lowered her spoon into the bowl. “And you said you saw it?” She asked, receiving a nod in reply. “How big was it?”

“Oh, at least the size of a child. That's why I thought it was human,” Murakami said, starting to clean the space around him. “That, and the fact that it always opens the bags so neatly and leaves no mess.”

Her fingers moved rapidly as April jotted down every note she could. “You said it comes every few nights. Do you know when it might come next?”

“Well,” Murakami said, a gentle smile returning to his face, “I have not seen it in-”

He was cut off by a soft clang sounding through the wall to April's left. Murakami's smile only widened as he moved his blind gaze back in April's direction. “What is that saying,” he said, gesturing with his hands, “if you talk of the devil?”

April quickly finished the soup in front of her and shoved the stool back, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. “Wait,” Murakami said, halting her swift movement to the door. “Use the employee door, back here. It will get you closer. Perhaps you can see it before it runs.”

April followed Murakami's lead toward the back of the store, with excitement filling her veins, to a door bookended by two metal shelves full of ingredients. “Thank you, Mister Murakami,” she said, gliding around him to reach the door.

“It is no problem, Miss O'Neil. I wish you luck,” he said, giving a small wink before turning to go back to the front of the store.

As quietly and slowly as she could, April opened the door. As soon as it was even subtly ajar, the rumbling and shuffling of trash being thrown around became more audible. The door opened in a way that meant she would have to open it all the way to see the dumpster, so she elected to open it just enough for her body to peek out. That meant less light would shine out, anyway. As she finally got it open enough, she stepped onto the concrete step down in front of the doorway and peered around to spot the culprit.

It seemed that during the time April took to open the door, the creature had already rifled through the dumpster as much as it wanted to. She could see a few trash bags still pulled slightly open within, with small punctures left around their openings. She had to look further around the door, further left, to actually find the thing.

It was turned away from her (thank jesus), but April was able to get a view of the bright colors mentioned by Murakami. It looked like some sort of black and orange heavy duty backpack, shaped to mimic the shell of a turtle. The rest of the figure was obscured by the darkness and the other trash bags on the floor, a few showing obvious signs that they were previously searched through. Next to one of the already scavenged bags sitting behind the creature was a purple soft cooler, with scraps of fish and discarded vegetables filling it.

If this thing wasn't human, why was it using a cooler?

April started easing the door closed as she stepped off the concrete step, just as the figure lifted its head, hands full of more scraps of meat and vegetables. April could hardly see the figure as the little light from inside started to vanish, but she swore she could see scaly, dark gray and red skin, and a beaked face.

That wasn't a backpack, was it? It was a shell. A real shell.

The thing in front of her was a giant, freaky turtle. The size of a person. In the shape of a person.

And now, it was staring her dead in the face with round, glazed over eyes.

If Cassie didn't think she was a weirdo yet, there was no way she could deny it after what she tried to do next.

She took in a deep breath before speaking in the softest whisper she could muster. “Hey, little guy..?” she said, moving her leg the slightest bit to step closer. “Are you hungry?”

The monster- no, the turtle before her flinched and sat up slightly when it noticed the movement. Its head started jerking up and down, as though analyzing if April was a threat. It started to move to the side, rearing up and-

“OH EW! EWEWEWEWEW-” April shouted, stumbling backwards into the brick wall in her attempt to avoid the warm liquid flung at her to no avail, as she watched the dark spots form on her sweatpants. “DUDE THAT IS SO GROSS!!!”

The beast made no response, just rushing to the fence to April's right and beginning to climb along the chain links. It moved at a speed that surprised her. Not like an Olympic rock climber or anything, but much faster than the average person. Much faster than April could.

As the creature was closer, she could finally make out more details about it. It was definitely the size of a person, maybe taller than her even, and looked like it had a similar anatomy. Its hands had thumbs, but only two fingers. That seemed to carry down to its feet as well. Its giant shell was covered in scutes that each showed a black and orange gradient, and its skin had a dark gray to orange-red pattern to it. Its eyes were small, and looked almost youthful. Obviously scared, of course.

April almost fell over trying to get away from the fence, but quickly realized she shouldn't do that unless she wanted to fall right into mystery turtle monster pee. While stabilizing herself, she took a glance back to where the monster had run from, only to spot that the purple soft cooler had been left behind, practically overflowing with scraps.

She carefully jogged over, closing the lid and zipping it so she wouldn't have to look at that anymore, before grabbing the shoulder strap and turning back to where the turtle had run to. “You forgot your-”

April was shocked into silence when she saw it staring back at her from a few feet past the other side of the fence, about as far from it as she was. It was hunching down onto all fours, staring at the cooler dangling in her grasp with longing, desperate eyes. It was making a clicking sound, chirping softly, almost under its breath. April stepped forward, wanting to offer the food out, but the creature quickly startled and started rushing off again.

This is the stupidest thing I've ever done, April thought as she slung the strap over her shoulder and started rushing after. She quickly opened the swinging door in the chain link fence and followed where the turtle had turned to the right. She found a manhole cover in the alley spinning on its sides, next to an open entrance into New York's sewer system. Can this day get any grosser?

As she slipped her legs into the manhole, placing her feet on the metal rungs descending down, April caught a slight flicker of movement rushing away. She quickened her descent and almost fell as she jumped down the final few steps. Her shoes immediately squelched against the muck spread across the sewer floor, and she had to hold down a gag as she looked up in the direction of where the turtle went around a corner. She started to move quickly after, but after only a moment, the sound of reptilian feet pattering away abruptly stopped and a soft thunk echoed in the dim tunnel.

April let herself slow a bit and glanced around the corner. For a moment she thought she had lost the creature, but then she saw the vividly colored shell sitting unmoving a few feet ahead. She slowly approached it, slipping the cooler off her shoulder.

“Here's your food, buddy,” she whispered, leaving the cooler about 6 feet away from the static shell. “I'm sorry I scared you. Feel free to come back for more.”

April was just about to turn back and walk away when she had a realization. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, made sure her flash and sound were off, and took a quick picture of the shell and cooler. The dim light of the sewer was barely enough for her crappy phone camera to pick up the shapes and colors, but she figured it would suffice.

She was totally bailing on CJ. She was going to need a good excuse, and even better proof.

With that, April turned on her heel and started walking back to where she came from, stealing quick glances every few seconds to see if the creature would peek out. To her disappointment, it didn't seem to feel safe enough, and she had to leave without knowing if it would even take the food she had willingly come into the sewers to give to it.

That didn't matter now. She needed to get home before Irma, and figure out what to do with the unmentionable gunk and liquid caked into her pants.

○●○●○●○

Yippee! Chapter 1! The first arc should last maybe 12 chapters at most? I've already nearly got like 10 of them written, and I think this chapter was literally made last October. so I've got a bit of a backlog (-﹏-; )

There's so much I want to talk about in this story, especially the totally spoilery stuff, but a lot of the exposition will come from this arc, so I must keep my lips sealed. I'm very excited to share it with the world :)

Chapter 2: Shared Hallucination 🧠 ->

#tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles #original character #tmnt oc #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fan iteration #twig writes #tmnt: second shot #i might post some stuff from later in the story soon anyway seeing as that's what all of my doodle pages are :/ #but getting this arc out is priority number 1

[lululawrence]

How about 24, 14 and 30?

hiiii sorry i didn't answer earlier, i fell asleep before i got it haha but i can answer now before i finally make my fic list for the month... like three days late oops so ANYWAY thank you for sending these in!!

how was your day today?

i'm answering for today instead of yesterday hahaha today was pretty good! more chill than i originally expected because of a last minute change in plans, so it was nice. the toddler was his usual terror self and i didn't get my sunday afternoon nap that is basically a requirement, but that's alright cause overall it wasn't a bad day haha

any cleaning or organizing life hacks?

oof listen this one has had me thinking. all my cleaning and organizing life hacks are more like adhd and autism life hacks lmaoooo so i'm not so sure they would be helpful for like anyone other than ME. ummm i guess my big one is make your planner a happy place for you to be because you'll have more incentive to use it that way lol mine is covered in stickers that are mostly fan art or lyrics or things that make me happy like flowers or quotes that remind me i'm not a failure hahahahah and it's lots of bright colors so when i open it up to the upcoming week and see all five million appointments and things i have to do even though i'm on year four of total burnout at this point, i don't have a panic attack. the bright colors and flowers and our boys rewire my brain to focus on that instead so my emotions are kept a lot more even and i can then still be productive in looking at the schedule which is super helpful for me haha for cleaning, the two biggest things that have helped me is one: it doesn't have to be done perfectly every time, so just do the best you can and at least it's that much better than it was before. and two: break up the big bads in your life so you don't have to do it all at once. for example, i HATE the bathroom. not because i find it super disgusting or whatever, but because it usually takes more effort for me to scrub the tub or the sink and honestly when i was younger i didn't ever know if i was cleaning them correctly or not. i was essentially guessing and was always too embarrassed to ask for help because the few times i did try to do that, i didn't actually get answers that helped me at all. the answers were kind of lackadaisical and general and would probably make sense to a neurotypical, but to my undiagnosed AuDHD brain, i was LOST man. and like, i'm 38 now, i've finally figured that shit out at least for myself, but even though it's a lot easier now and i know what to do, it still has a lot of negative feelings associated so my executive dysfunction basically says, "yeah nope" when it's time to do it and fucks off hahaha SO what i do is i have different tasks in the bathroom on different days. for example, tuesday is toilet day. dunno why, it just works well having toilets on tuesdays. wednesday is sinks, thursday is mirrors, and friday is the tub. saturday is for if i missed any of those days, then i catch up. or it's april and i just don't clean the bathroom. months like that happen, and we still survive. lol which is actually tip three. you'll still survive even if your plans don't work, so pick yourself up and try again. maybe it'll stick this time!

how do you feel about this weekend?

as in the weekend we just had or the weekend coming up? lollllll the weekend we just had? overall it was an alright one. it was longer than i feel like they usually feel for a lot of reasons, and it was weird because there was a lot of stuff that just wasn't really quite at the usual for us, but yeah not bad! haha kinda glad it's over while also not all that excited about the upcoming week, if that makes sense haha but that's also kinda my life right now so oh well lol

that got long i'm so sorry hahaha hope you at least kind of enjoyed the answers? lol thank you for asking!!!

if you want the link to the post these came from, it's here!

#asks #Anonymous

[damiano-mylove]

Slice of Life

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x (mostly)GN!reader

Wc: 1.1 k

Cw(s): Arseholish ex-boyfriend, not just dialogue (tell me if it sucks and should go back to not posting)

Summary: Josh helps you discover how beautiful your slice of life is.

Masterlist

Previously, you had thought you had been in love before. You thought it was true, that it would last forever and ever - but nothing like that, out of a storybook, could ever have the legs to last forever. After all, forever is a long, long time.

You thought love was him pulling out your chair for you at dinner, then tucking you into the table. You thought it was the rich bouquet of flowers after fights. You thought it was letting you sleep in on weekends. But you were wrong, and that mistake lead to one of the lowest points of your life.

Then again, it lead to Josh.

After a few days of crying, you needed something other than work and your flat. So you took the beautiful Saturday to yourself. After wandering the chilly streets of the city, you stumbled upon an art gallery. You entered, forgetting your previous lover had been an artist - remembering only once you came across a massive canvas of the two of you in embrace.

You sat on one of the benches that littered the room. Your eyes refused to betray the canvas, but tears began to flood your eyes. How the fuck could he still enter that portrait, after he was caught red-handed? Thrown out of the flat you shared, which was under your name.

"I was hoping you'd come here," David whispered, his voice low and relieved. You didn't look at him as he sat beside you, putting his arm over your bent back. "It was meant to be an anniversary surprise, now it's just an apology."

"Well, that'd be a grand gesture if an apology actually came out of your lips," you sighed. You were embarrassed by the other patrons, looking at the two of you on the bench, then the two of you on the wall. You were tired and sad and this certainly was not helping. Standing up, you looked at David. "You really fucked up, David."

"You never call me David." His voice broke a little. Leave it to him to try and make it seem like you were the monster, breaking up with him, even after he fucked his best friend's girl, in your bed.

"What a shame for you," you replied in an irate tone. Taking a deep breath, you patted his shoulder. "I hope you're doing well and I hope I never see you again."

Before he could say anything else, you left. Tears no longer remained in your eyes. There was a certain amount of closure you got that day, that would be enough for you to finally get back on with your life. It had been so long since you'd been without David, it was refreshing.

You were content with being single.

Until you laid eyes on that curly brunet.

Months after David, you found yourself in a clothing store. It was a sort-of boho vibe in the store - lots of cotton, wicker, tweed and denim. And there he was. Perusing the women's trousers while you looked over the men's shirts. Both of you kept throwing looks to the other, just narrowly missing each look.

It didn't take long for him to come over and talk to you.

"Shopping for your boyfriend? Is it his birthday or something?" He asked you from over a rack. You chuckled, shaking your head.

"No, I just like clothes that fit me like ocean liners," you responded. The beautiful man smiled to you. "And you? Getting your girlfriend some jeans?"

"Far from it - I just needed some jeans that don't give me a cardboard box illusion." You laughed at his joke. His eyes sparkled under the dark LED lights above. "How about a drink sometime? Show each other the outfits we've bought?"

To say it caught you off-guard was an overstatement. You were just a bit...shocked. This guy was bold, he was beautiful, he was funny. And he went for you. The dots didn't connect in your mind, but you gladly accepted the invitation and Josh gave you his number and name.

You had to thank David. Without the bittersweet goodbye at the gallery, you wouldn't have wanted to still dress the same as you had. You wouldn't have been in the store.

The pub was just the first date of many. The second was a garden gallery, given it had just turned April and the flowers were coming out. Your third was to the cinema.

You had thought, surely, the honeymoon period would end after a few months. Josh would lose his allure, get annoying, become more of a liability than a partner. You were expecting it, you were ready for it.

It never came.

Months flew by and you realized that the honeymoon period had never ended. But all the signs were there. Josh was annoying and loud, but it had never pissed you off. Josh was a ball of energy, but it never rubbed you the wrong way. And, someway, somehow, he had managed to not even make an off-handed comment.

Josh asked you to move in with him, you agreed, but you had thought, surely, you would get sick of living with him within the first two months. Josh wouldn't clean up after himself, he'd bring people over all the time, he would forget his share of rent but always come home with new clothes. You were, once again, ready for it.

And, once again, it never came.

Instead, you came to the realization that Josh loved you. In a way you'd never expected, in a way that made your soul ache.

He didn't cook and clean by himself, but the two of you would equally split up household duties. If you cooked, Josh would do up the dishes, and vice versa. If Josh swept, you mopped. Josh, your beautiful boy, never expect you to be perfect, just that he would always have you in his arms as you two slept through the nights that were far too short.

When the two of you got into fights (it was unavoidable, but very rare), Josh made sure it was resolved by the time the two of you went to sleep. The two of you would talk it out (only once did you ever raise your voice, and you knew it was a mistake as soon as it happened, then it never happened again). Then a plan would be drawn on how to avoid the problem, how to fix it, so on and so forth. But Josh always followed through.

The love you and Josh shared, the life you shared, wasn't out of a crumby old storybook written by the Grimm Brothers. It was real. It was real life and the best possible version of it there had ever been. Onlookers envied you, your friends and siblings cheered you on.

Josh helped you realize the beauty of life, among other things. You realized true love is balance. You realized that love isn't a constant race, it's a comfortable marathon. You realized how much you loved your own slice of life, with your beau by your side. And you couldn't ask for anything more.

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fanfiction #one shot #oneshot #josh kiszka oneshot #x reader #joshua gvf #joshua kiszka

[midasinc]

jehan/grantaire modern era hcs:

-grantaire gets stuck on enjolras for a really long time and when he comes to terms with the fact that it just isn't ever gonna happen, it genuinely breaks his heart and he falls into a funk over it for a while

-jehan is better friends with enj but he knows that grantaire isn't really dealing with any of this well and goes to befriend him too because he's been there and sometimes you just need some help and motivation to move on

-they weirdly get along really well. jehan listens to grantaire and just lets him vent about how heartbroken he is without trying to sneak in advice unless grantaire directly asks him for it. he lets grantaire talk and feel like he's not crazy or overdramatic and that really helps to feel understood

-jehan likes art and likes listening to grantaire talk about art and they have a lot of hang seshes of doodling each other. grantaire is an animator and has a lot of random jehan cartoons around his apartment. jehan has more of a realistic style and has some pretty candid portraits of grantaire

-they also like to go to galleries together and do weird things like go to a skate park despite being older than the main demographic and neither knowing how to skate. jehan takes grantaire to his rap scene and teaches him about rap culture and they do a lot of things on a whim, like taking a train to the south of france for a day or spending a weekend in amsterdam or just going to a zumba class for fun.

-they're very touchy with each other and neither are sure if it means something else

-at jehan's grad party they both get pretty high which turns into playing monopoly and grantaire is about to go bankrupt and jehan says he'll loan him money for a kiss, sort of as a joke, but grantaire does it anyway and takes a big bill from his pile. they don't really talk about it afterwards

-then the next year on new years eve, they're sorta hangin out at a party and grantaire asks if he has a new years kiss lined up and jehan jokes that his invitations probably got lost in the mail and grantaire jokes back that his got sent to a gulag and jehan isn't sure if that's an offer or not, he laughs anyway and takes a sip of his drink before grantaire pretty much just outright says "i'm taking volunteers if you're not busy" and jehan isn't expecting it and he's so surprised that his drink comes out of his nose and they're too busy laughing so they miss the countdown. but they sneak some kisses into the new year anyway (even if jehan's sinuses are burning)

-this time they actually talk about it and it leads us to two years into them being together

-they're both just fucking weirdos. they'll watch youtube essays together on jehan's tv and eat from a jar of almond butter with their own spoons. it's honestly the dream tbh

-jehan brings grantaire stuff like a bird. at the end of the day he comes home with pockets full of shiny pens and bottle caps and stickers and cool rocks or leaves. grantaire likes to joke that he's bringing supplies to build a nest

-grantaire keeps all of it, too. he has a shoebox filled with the little things jehan brings him

-grantaire likes to wear jehan's stuff bc jehan's clothes always smell nicer than his own. this is partly bc grantaire does laundry like once a month if he's in a good mood and has bad habits with showering, but also because jehan uses this cologne that smells like oak and orange and it makes grantaire very happy to smell like his bf

-grantaire is also horrifically insecure but he's very vocal about it and kind of does it for attention on days where he's annoyed. he'll get aggravated with jehan and be like "i don't even know why you're with me im ugly and useless and you shouldn't even want to touch me you should be with someone else" and he knows for a fact that jehan hates it when he says stuff like that because it's really heartbreaking to hear that sort of thing from your partner. because jehan knows he's doing it to get a reaction, his defense mechanism is putting his hands over his ears and yell-singing all of me by john legend until grantaire shuts the fuck up and tells jehan what's actually bothering him

-usually he's just cranky bc his stomach hurts. that, jehan can certainly resolve

-anyway they both also like to get high together. they r the kings of shotgunning smoke into each other's mouths. grantaire likes to curl on top of jehan bc jehan is very solid and also very soft and listen to his heartbeat as jehan hums to whatever song is playing on their record player

-and yes they have a record player in their apartment and two crates full of vinyls. they like to go together to vinyl shops and pick out sad, lonely looking vinyls that no one else will buy. bc of that, they have a very peculiar music selection

-jehan also keeps enough houseplants to make their apartment look like an exhibit from jurassic park. grantaire likes to help, but he knows nothing about horticulture, so jehan gave him a designated plant to take care of. it's plastic, but grantaire thinks it's real and waters it every day and makes sure that it's in the sun

-they're also both picky eaters. neither of them will touch pickles or a lot of veggies god bless. it's joly's mission to figure out a way to get them to eat certain foods

-grantaire warms up to jehan's rats eventually. it took him a year to get comfortable holding a rat and after that, it gets pretty easy. he doesn't feel horrified coming home to seeing jehan chillin on the couch with three rats on his shoulders

-after year two he gets attached to the rats. on their birthday, he buys them little treats and toys and such. rats are just little dudes! it just took him a while to stop associating them with the rats in the paris metro stations

-jehan likes to paint grantaire's nails on sundays and listen to him talk. it's therapeutic for them both

-both of them often feel weird out in public and in other spaces, but being around each other is so comforting because they don't feel weird when they're together. being able to talk and laugh and joke makes them feel understood and that's a really important aspect of their relationship to either of them. they understand each other's weirdness

-jehan also convinces grantaire to get frosted tips. i don't really need to delve further into this event but it does happen.

#les miserables #les mis #modern les mis #les mis headcanons #jehan prouvaire #jehan frollo #jehan #prouvaire #grantaire #les amis de l'abc #les amis #tw weed #tw weed mention #tw drug use #tw drug mention