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fairytheo · 3 years

Text

enhypen as your boyfriend.

boyfriend!enhypen x gen!reader. fluff. 1.9k. curse words. mention of bugs, food. not requested.

🐈 ⸝⸝ HEESEUNG ˙𐃷˙

super-duper caring !!

he’s so whipped for you — he smiles just by thinking about you

also very giggly around you

LOVES lending you his beanies

(aka. you stealing them..)

+ you steal his earrings as well ! not that he minds

absolutely adores singing for you / he loves singing you to sleep :D

hold up, is being heeseung’s s/o just being his personal ramen cook 🤨🤨

he aaalwaays bugs you to play games with him (especially wii and nintendo switch lmao)

either that or you’re playing animal crossing while eating takeout at your dinner table

you’re the only person in the world who he’ll ever do aegyo for.

he secretly enjoys it, but shhh you didn’t hear that from me

i think he likes calling you names like cutie, cutiepie or just a shorter version of your name <3 (if there is one !)

booping your nose is on his everyday to do list ☝️

lowkey therapist & boyfriend in one ngl

WAIT he loves making playlists for you two,,

“y/n! i made another playlist, do you wanna listen to it? i made it while thinking of you.” <//3

the type to write cheesy lyrics about you, then later cringes at his own writing bUT then leaves it like that because you like it !

you have his cover of lauv’s “i’m so tired” either set as your alarm or play it on loop everyday

(random but for some reason i can picture him giving you a cassette with his cover on it just for the vintage vibes)

🐈 ⸝⸝ JAY ˙𐃷˙

the mom-and-boyfriend in one ;]

f a s h i o n c o u p l e

you are literally fashion icons. no disagreements.

you have matching clothes or accessories ! even if it’s really subtle, the gesture behind it is super adorable <//3

cooking pt. 2 :D but this time there’s a gorden ramsay in your relationship

i can just SEE how you both two impersonate gorden ramsay while cooking which makes everything 10 times funnier !! checks every 5 seconds if the food is ready tho because he doesn’t wanna risk anything

never cleans up afterwards, either you do or no one does

since you’re both fashion icons your social media followers are going 📈📈📈

literally couple goals.

he loves taking pictures of you,, but also wants you to take pictures of him

jay gets flustered easily so please make him flustered with sudden compliments, hugs, kisses, etc. !!

he’s also the only member i can really see calling you babe

confident but shy about pda at the same time ??? he’s both LOL

you always tease him with his RAS moments and randomly quote them when you’re in the middle of a conversation with him lmao

random and idk if this fits here, but he likes making your lunch — leaves you encouraging notes too <3

last but not least: jokingly gets angry at you when he wants something from you, and you do the same thing back ♡

🐈 ⸝⸝ JAKE ˙𐃷˙

sweetest and softest boyfriend to ever exist. i’m so soft for him JSHSHS

definitely calls you sweetie and darling. 100%. fight me if you think otherwise.

shows you pics of layla everyday (it’s become routine for him >_<)

a tiny bit cliché BUT lends you his jacket whenever you’re cold (even when you’re inside !!)

random thought: jake puts his hands in your hoodie pockets...

💔💔💔

it’s his personal goal to peck your cheek and forehead at least twice a day — gets pouty if he wasn’t able to do that ))):::

talks in english a lot because you love his accent !!

if you’re an english speaker, you’ll have conversations in english all. the. time.

if you’re not an english speaker, no worries, he’ll teach you !

+ reads you bedtime stories in english (jake’s australian accent >>>)

dreams of travelling with you to australia <33

if there’s a bug in the house you better know that jake will NOT be removing them and runs out of the house

WILL stay over at one of the other member’s houses untill that bug is REMOVED .

so if you’re afraid of bugs as well,,, i’m sorry bae, but it’ll be your task to remove these little... creatures 😐

ngl you have more photos of layla than of him on your phone lol

(spams you with her pictures and captions them with “y/n!!! look!!! layla with a flower!!!! layla with a butterfly!!!!” it’s just so sweet aaa)

we need some “””drama””” so you make jokes about him being a “🥶💸🔥💪” boy a lot in your relationship LMAO

🐈 ⸝⸝ SUNGHOON ˙𐃷˙

ice skating dates.

this has been mentioned in other headcanons a lot already but i just HAD to include it,,

convinces you to eat ice cream after your date LOL even if it IS winter

btw. fashion couple nr. 2 !!!

MIRROR SELCAS

ugh the visuals and the power you two hold,,,, i can’t,,,,,

has better clothes than you ngl so you share clothes lmao

it started with him lending you his sweatpants, but then you didn’t want to return them forgot to return them and BOOM 💥 here we are

extremely awkward and shy at first — don’t worry though, he becomes much more chaotic in the later phases of your relationship

he teases you SO MUCH. LIKE. SO MUCH.

always has small smile (smirk?) on his face when he’s about to make a cocky remark (so beware)

you tease him back just twice as hard which 1.) results in him in becoming flustered 2.) fails LOL

off-topic but he’d love a s/o that has a similar style to him ??? a more elegant, classy, dark style perhaps

when he’s away / busy he’ll send you some selcas and captions them with “how r u doing??” “did you eat yet?” “cheer up :P”

kinda shy about pda but likes showing off too ???

i mean,, men... 🙄🙄 /lh

whenever someone mentions your name near him, he’ll just try to hide his smile while biting his lip (yk what i’m talking about???) and you’ll see his dimples and the affectionate look in his eyes and just AAAAA

the type of boyfriend that calls you love~

🐈 ⸝⸝ SUNOO ˙𐃷˙

skin care routines with sunoo 24/7 🤝

he does your hair (if your hair is long enough to do different hairstyles with it ofc !!)

send you daily weekly skin care products he thinks you two should try out / that’d be good for your skin <3

spa nights every friday at 9pm — he only lets you in if you wear a stylish pyjama LOL

you buy him peach items because they just remind you so much of him (｡•́︿•̀｡)

SELCA TIME !!! his phone is always ready !!! (apart from his storage maybe?)

PARTICIPATES IN SELCA DAYS OF YOUR FAVOURITE IDOLS AAA

loves to go on walks w u

does A LOT of aegyo,,

and i know that you knew that this point will be in this headcanon.

for eg. instead of saying goodnight or bye he’ll just do aegyo for you not that anyone minds tbh

stages of sunoo flirting (?):

a — tries to compliment you (it sounds more like a flirty remark tbh)

b — realizes then blushes

c — cringes and runs away LMAO

playfully acts jealous, so you know it’s a joke but deep down he’s actually jealous

you two match each others vibes a lot — if one is sad, the other is sad as well

+ tells you your posture is bad when you sit like a banana or tells you to go to sleep early and when you don’t listen to him, he’ll show you an article that proves that (abc) and (xyz) is bad for you and says “i told you so.” 💀

🐈 ⸝⸝ JUNGWON ˙𐃷˙

impresses you by doing kicks (does the kick cap challenge on tiktok and/or you play kick it by nct 127 for the funzies)

poking his dimple is a MUST . 😩😩

though gets super shy when you kiss him and also if you buy him gifts !!

cheers you up whenever you feel down or are upset

compliments you a ton ))): will randomly come up to you and tell you that your fit is cute or that you look brighter today,,, little does he know it's because of him ;]

HUGS!HUGS!HUGS

poking his dimple comes first, then hugging

the other members tease you two everytime you’re over LOL it’s like there are two koalas clinging onto each other

our yang garden gained another sheep +1

you two randomly play sheep,,,, like,,, everyday ???? sheep cosplays 👍

idk why ig it’s just fun to imitate sheep and go “mmmeEeEeeEhh” to annoy others

talking of that, even THOUGH he is a responsible leader he will not hesitate to do stupid shit with you

“hey how about we ring on that house there and yell “sheep for sale!” do you think they’ll open the door?”

“i don’t know... let’s find out!” 🤝

let’s just say that this didn’t end well..

also kinda bullies you (in a loving way ofc !!) pand teases you nonstop

either calls you asshole or love aHA

in conclusion: a very unpredictable relationship,, would 10/10 recommend.

very random but i feel like his love language is acts of service

🐈 ⸝⸝ NI-KI ˙𐃷˙

oh look it’s our tsundere 😼

can’t go a day without dancing so you two have vibing sessions at 2am everyday ft. the others telling you to go to bed

you’re the only one that can make him soft lol

if you’re older than him, you would definitely take care of him like your own baby !!

if you are the same age as him or younger it’d be awkward for him at first, because he isn’t used to taking care of someone younger, so he’d treat you as if you were his best friend at the beginning

you love to watch him dance !! it’s so satisfying,, LITERAL asmr.

pranks you 24/7. boy has NO mercy. will not care if the others will scold him later. he will do the prank smoothly (?) — doesn’t care about the consequences LMAO

probably sets your alarm to someone screaming or a cringy aegyo song <//3

wants to film dance covers with you !! you don’t have to be the best dancer either !! as long as you have fun ^__^

the other members find you really cute but are also vERY TIRED OF YOU,, two energized teens in a relationship was not a good idea ☝️

likes to randomly hold your hand and swing it around

probably distant at the beginning of the relationship because a.) he doesn’t want to pressure you/make things awkward b.) he doesn’t really know what to do either ???

(if you’re not japanese or don’t know how to speak japanese) he’ll definitely teach you some japanese phrases and words !! introduce you to his culture as well :DD and he really wants to know more about your culture too <3

teaches you phrases like “sunoo is a dumbass” for the funzies LOL

randomly makes micheal jackson impressions,,, it’s hilarious LMFAO

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griffintail · 3 years

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Can I get Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, and Awesamdude (separately) dealing with a giggly, happily drunk reader, who is very nice to everyone but immediately goes into “I love youuuu, let me stay with you foreverrrrrrrr” cuddly lovesick puppy mode and proceeds to latch onto them for the rest of the night.

I hope you enjoy this! ♥

In Game and Female Reader

Warnings: Implied underage drinking(?)

A/N: I wanted to do like ten different things with these that would have been tooo long and strayed too far off path and then when I did have something I hated it. So, long story short, I had trouble writing it. Sorry it took so long! I’ve also never watched Sam I’m only just getting to the livestreams he was in with Tommy, I hope his character is good.

Wilbur

It had been a celebration of the freedom of L’Manberg.

Naturally, the men and their lady of the hour wanted to go all out and finally have fun after all the war and bloodshed. There were some things they wanted to forget as well, such as the betrayal of one of their own. For once, Wilbur didn’t join in with the drinking that had started, simply just wanting to rest till what felt like the end of time after everything.

Luckily, he hadn’t as now as he chuckled at (Y/N) rambling on about how adorable sheep were as they sat on the ground.

“I mean, we can make them different colors, and they just don’t give a fuck. And their little faces.” She put her hands close together. “I want a pet sheep Wilbur.”

He laughed as he stood up. “I think it’s time we got you to bed love.”

“What? No, the party is so much fun.” She motioned with a smile at the men away from them, doubled over in laughter.

He took her hand, pulling her up carefully. “But I believe you’ve had too much to drink. Your face is red, so let’s get you home.”

She was quiet before grabbing his hand again, smiling. “Ok.”

“Good. Make sure you get some sleep tonight boys, we got work to do.”

He got a few responses between their laughter, shaking his head before he led (Y/N) away through the cool night. Her house had resided outside the L’Manberg walls but Dream and his friends took care of that. So, instead, Wilbur led her to the van, deciding to let her stay there for the night.

“Alright love. You’re going to stay here tonight?”

“I like it when you say, love.” She giggled. “It makes me feel all fuzzy.”

He blushed slightly as he chuckled. “I’m sure it’s just all the drinks you had. Now, you get comfortable and I’ll…”

He let go of her hand, only to jump as she latched onto his arm.

“No.” She whined. “Stay here.”

“What are you doing (Y/N)?” He asked confused.

“I don’t want you to go. I love you. And you’re so warm.” She huffed, putting her forehead against his arm as she held out a few of her words.

Wilbur was red as he watched the woman beside him.

“(Y/N), you shouldn’t say those things. Come on, let’s get your uniform off.” He told her gently as he took his arm back from her only for her to hug him around the middle instead, making him laugh in surprise. “(Y/N)!”

“Don’t go.” She spoke muffled into his chest. “Stay forever.”

He softened as he took her hat off, putting it down on a chest as he ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not going anywhere darling. I’m just trying to make you comfortable. So, can we please get your uniform off?”

She pouted but let go, letting him help her take her jacket and accessories off. Plopping on the bed, she struggled but managed to get her shoes off as Wilbur laid down her uniform next to her hat.

“Alright, you need to get some rest ok? I’m going to go sleep in the front.” He explained to her, going for the door but she took his sleeve.

“Stay with me. You’re so warm and you give the best hugs and I love you.” She rambled.

Wilbur went red again as he looked at the door. He didn’t want to just stay here with her while she was drunk, probably unable to remember any of this in the morning, but she was stubborn even drunk. There was a voice in the back of his head telling him she would most certainly just follow him. So, with a sigh, he sat on the bed next to her.

“Alright, but you have to sleep.”

She grinned as Wilbur leaned back against the headboard. Coming over, she hugged him as she put her head on her chest, half on him as she hummed.

“Good night Mr. President.” She giggled as Wilbur put a hand on her back.

“Good night darling.” He muttered, running his other hand through her hair.

It took a few minutes but she fell asleep on him and he was red as he watched her. It did feel warm like this and felt so right and comfortable. Maybe in the morning, after he explained the situation that they were in, he’d finally tell her how he felt to celebrate their victory further. He wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

Philza

Phil had been with (Y/N) for a long time, dating what felt like even longer. They had been on many travels together and seen the same amount of shit in their lifetime. Naturally, that called for a drink or two.

In the end, it was always Phil that could his liquor better than his girlfriend and he would usually just have a good laugh at her antics. She was very giggly and thought almost everything was hilarious and this time was no different.

“And, and he just fell. And I felt so bad for laughing but I did.” She giggled as she leaned on the table, Phil giving an amused chuckle.

She went to take another drink, but Phil took it from her. “I think that’s all for you tonight sweetheart.”

“You’re so good for me Phil.” She hummed, resting her arm on the table before putting her head in her hand. “Always making sure I’m ok.”

“Well, you help take care of me too.” He reminded her as he got up, starting to clean.

“Yeah, but you’re so much better at it. You’re so good at fighting and stuff. You also look good fighting.”

He laughed at that as he came back over to her. “Do I now?”

“Mhm. And-And your hair is so soft and your eyes are really pretty.”

“Yeah, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Come on.” He helped her up.

As he did, she latched onto him and he knew what phase she was in her drunkenness, the clingy phase.

“You’re going to come with me, right?” She pouted up at him as she nuzzled into him.

“Of course.” He chuckled, putting a hand on top of her head.

“Good, because I love you. Just don’t tell Techno, he thinks it's gross.”

He put a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, nearly doubling over. “I won’t…God, I won’t. Holy shit.”

“Phil, you’re supposed to say it back.” She whispered as he led her to their bedroom once he could breathe right.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I love you too.” He kissed her forehead, making the woman giggle in joy.

“Philza Craft loves me.” She squealed as she hugged onto him tightly.

“Yes, yes.” He nodded, chuckling quietly as he managed to unlatch her from him to get her into bed.

He made sure she dressed comfortably before they started drinking, knowing that this is where it would lead. Before she could protest, he got in beside her and pulled her in, hugging her close as he let his wings unfurl and laid one on top of them. She grinned, nuzzling into his chest, acting as if they didn’t do this all the time.

“You’re-You’re the best.” She muttered.

“Thank you, now sleep, angel.”

“You’re the only angel here. Good night.” She hummed.

“Good night.”

With that, the two were able to sleep easily into the night.

Technoblade

Just a couple glasses of wine, it will be fine, they said.

Now Techno didn’t know how the hell to deal with his best friend.

(Y/N) and a few of the others in Pogtopia had decided to have a few rounds of drinks, Techno deciding to opt-out of it as they made it into a party and he just wasn’t that into parties. Yet, now, here he stood as his best friend was giggling like an idiot at Wilbur’s stupid joke. He didn’t know how easy his friend got drunk but here was the proof.

Techno was trying to think of a way to get her away from the group without her putting up a fight when Tommy came over to her.

“Hey (Y/N), you know those diamonds you got the other day,” Tommy asked her, making Techno squint as he listened.

“Oh yeah!” She nodded with a wide smile.

“Want to know what would be cool? If I could have them.”

There was no way…

“Sure!”

That’s it.

“Tommy, are you really trying to scam your ally while she’s drunk?” Techno came over, arms crossed.

Tommy paled as he quickly waved his hands. “No! No! Why would you think that! I’m just going…I hear Tubbo calling for me!”

The younger boy scampered off as Techno looked at (Y/N), seeing her pout at him.

“That was mean Techno.”

“He was trying to steal from you (Y/N), you’ll understand in the morning.” Techno rolled his eyes.

“Tommy wouldn’t do that. I’m going to apologize to him for you.” She huffed, but Techno grabbed her arm.

“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head as he pulled her back in front of him. “You’re not going anywhere; you’re staying here with me so I can make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret in the morning.”

Then the girl smiled, giggling again. “You always look out for me Techno.”

He was sent through a loop by her sudden change in emotions but merely shook his head. “Because I have to. You’d be dead without me.”

That wasn’t true. While his friend was one of the nicest people he met, you mess with her and she became a whole new person that could hold her own with ease.

“E-Exactly.” She hummed, hugging onto his arm, making him stiffen. “You’re so great Techno.”

“Yeah, I know.” He tried to brush the emotions he felt off as he decided to make use of her holding onto him to lead her away.

“I hope you never leave Techno.”

“I can’t ever leave you.” He muttered truthfully.

“You’re really good at keeping secrets, right?” She asked as he brought her into her room in the cavern.

“I’d say so, yeah.” He nodded.

“I’m going to tell you a big secret. You can’t tell Technoblade.” She said and he opened his mouth to say he was in fact that same person but she spoke first. “I love Technoblade. He’s just so cool and nice and I love him.”

Techno.exe has stopped working.

Techno tried to remember where he was and what he was doing. It took a few tries but he finally got his mind working.

“Heh?!” He looked at her in shock.

“Shh, he can’t know Techno.” She giggled.

“…I don’t what the hell I’m going to do with you.” He mumbled, taking off his mask to run a hand down his face.

“You’re going to keep it a secret right?” She pouted at him.

“Yeah, now you need to go to bed. Like, right now.” He decided, taking his arm from her and turning for the door only for two arms to wrap around him from behind.

“No! You promised you wouldn’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving you idiot; I’m going to my room and letting you sleep yours.”

“Please don’t go Techno. I always sleep better when I know you’re close by.”

He didn’t know what to do. What were you supposed to do when your best friend you liked told you while they were drunk that they liked you back thinking you weren’t the same person?! His mind was fried and he didn’t have any ideas of how to get her to relent, so instead, he did.

Sighing, he took his arms off him so he could turn around. “Alright, come on. Get comfortable.”

She grinned before going over to her bed. After only taking a jacket and her shoes off, she got comfortable and he gave a long sigh before sitting beside her. As soon as he did, she put her head in his lap, humming with that dorky smile.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here.” He promised as he ran a hand through her hair.

“Thank you. Good night Techno.” She muttered.

He didn’t say anything as she fell asleep. Yeah, he didn’t know what the hell he was going to deal with this in the morning, but he supposed he should just enjoy this moment.

Awesamdude

“Fuck!” (Y/N) shouted across the room where the Badlanders were spending the night.

“Language!” Bad shouted at her.

She giggled with Ant, Sam chuckling as he watched the two. It was just a simple party, nothing to celebrate just a moment between friends with a few drinks sent around. Sam had participated in some of the events but had stayed out of most of it, deciding instead to watch his friend as she had a generous number of drinks.

“I’m sorry Bad! I didn’t mean it!” (Y/N) called to him.

“You should do it again though.” Ant tried to convince her.

“No, I don’t want to be mean to Bad.” She laughed, going to have another drink.

“I think that’s enough for now.” Sam intervened, taking the drink carefully from her hand.

“Aww.” She pouted. “Ok. Thank you, Sam.”

He nodded as he put it down. “Good. You can still have fun, just nothing more to drink.”

“Alright. I can do that Sam. Have some fun with us?”

“Sure.” He agreed.

He didn’t do much with the group, however, mostly just sticking by the young woman’s side, though he didn’t have much choice in the matter. He had already planned on keeping an eye on her as he did know how easily tricked, she was into doing what others wanted, such as shouting fuck across the room, as they had been friends for a while; but this time was different. Usually, it was a fight to get her to stay by his side but this time, she refuses to leave his side.

The creeper-hybrid was genuinely surprised as she followed him where ever he went.

“Normally you want to be with everyone else, what’s new today?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I just want to stay with you forever!” She grinned as she took his hand. “That would be nice wouldn’t it?”

He looked at her surprised as he nodded slowly. “Yeah, that would be. But, why do you want to?”

“Because I love you silly.” She said as it was the simplest thing.

“I uh…” His smile grew as he processed her words. “Really?”

“Duh.”

He didn’t mean it to go to his head as his friend was drunk but it did.

“What about me do you, love?”

“You’re super smart and you’re really good at fighting.” She started to list and he laughed.

“Alright, alright. No need for all that. Maybe we should get you home. I think you had more drinks than I realized.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Aw, ok.” She gave a pout before he led her away and to her home.

He took out her hidden spare key she had told him about and unlocked the door as he went inside.

“Ok, home safe and sound. You get some sleep alright? I’ll see you in…”

“No.” She whined as she grabbed his arm. “You said it’d be nice to stay forever so please Sam. Stay.”

“No, I think it’s smarter if I leave so you’re not confused in the morning.”

“I don’t care. Please, Sam. Stay.” She pouted at him and he felt his heart race slightly before humming.

“Yeah, ok. Just to make sure you’re alright.” He nodded. “I’ll stay in the living room.”

“No, come with me. It’s cold and you’re warm.” She said, making him blush.

“I uh…Hey, slow down.” Sam protested as she dragged him along by his hand. “(Y/N).”

She pulled him into her room and sat on her bed, giving him a puppy dog eyed face. His heart melted as he tried to stay strong but sighed.

“Ok, but if you kill me in the morning, I’m haunting your ass.”

She grinned, throwing up her arms. “Yeah.”

“Ok, ok, come on. Let’s get comfortable.”

The two of them shed the unnecessary layers and laid in bed. (Y/N) cuddled into Sam’s side and he put his arm around her back, gently running a hand along her side. Before another word was breathed, (Y/N) was asleep and Sam chuckled lightly.

“Good night, I hope you say the same thing tomorrow.” He muttered before sleeping himself for the night.

#mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #awesamdude x reader #mcyt fanfiction

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part V

[ previous ] Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x Reader, Zeke Jaeger x Reader wc: ~ 8.8k Warnings: pining, testosterone, Zeke being a dick (who woulda thought), subtle manipulation (both on Zeke’s part that goes unchecked and accidentally on Mike’s part) A/N: Well, we’re gettin’ there. We’re truckin’ along. I’m sorry for the last chapter. And, I’m sorry for this one. But, I do still hope you enjoy it. I think we’re at the halfway mark here.

Mike gets a text from you at nine PM three days before he’s supposed to go back to campus. It’s just a few words, a question that makes his heart drop to his stomach because you’ve never asked it before.

Can we talk for a sec?

He waits for a few minutes, tries to get rid of the panicked feeling rising in his chest, but he can’t get it to go away entirely, so he just bites the bullet and calls you.

“Heyyy,” you greet. Mike can already tell a difference in your tone. Something is definitely going on.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just, uh…” He hears you suck on your front teeth, a nervous habit he’s well versed in now, then you tell him, “I just wanted to give you a heads up before you get back here.”

Mike swallows. “Heads up about what?”

Are you leaving? Did you fail your summer classes despite all his help? Did you get into some kind of accident?

You let out a long breath that Mike wishes he could feel on his skin. He wishes he could see your expression, wishes he could hold your face in his hands and tell you that whatever it is, it’ll be okay. Seems like he’s always wishing for things.

“Um, I—uh… I’m kind of seeing someone.”

The floor falls out from beneath him, and Mike drops with it, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He grits his teeth, trying to breathe normally—in through the nose, out through the mouth. This is about the last thing he expected you to confess.

It’s apparently taking too long for him to gather himself, because you say his name, “Miche?” and he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I’m here. It’s, uh, fine,” he lies. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” You sound worried, as you should because while Mike isn’t mad, he’s extremely disappointed, probably the most he’s ever been.

Taking a page out of your book, he tries to play it cool, act like he doesn’t care. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, you—...” Met your mom? Learned your secrets? Tried to tell you that he loved you? All valid responses, but you just dismiss it with a quiet, “Nevermind.”

Mike hums, lets the line go silent for a while, then musters the courage to question, “Do I know him?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What do you mean ‘you think so’?”

“I mean he’s mentioned you, so I figure you’ve had at least a few conversations.” You’re getting that sassy tone, the one that signals you want to drop the subject, but you can’t this time. You’ve already warned Mike that you’re off the god damn market. You might as well tell him who exactly he’s gonna see you holding hands and sucking face with. It’s the merciful thing to do.

“It’s not one of the Pike guys, is it?”

“No, no,” you laugh and it makes Mike want to scream because he doesn’t find this amusing at all, and it only gets worse when you finally answer, “It’s Zeke Jaeger.”

Mike nearly hangs up then and there, but he somehow fights the urge. He does hold his phone away from his ear, though, stares up at his ceiling for a few seconds and stretches his arm out, then brings the device back. “Cool. He’s a… Talented dude.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I’m not exactly starstruck or anything. Not after hangin’ out with you all of last year.”

Mike rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall out of his skull. “You don’t have to make this about me, ba—...” He catches himself before finishing the pet name. He can’t do that anymore. He can’t call you what he wants to. He can’t flirt or smooth hair out of your face. He can’t pick you up and hold you against the walls of the house. He can’t show you how much he cares for you.

“I know. I just feel kinda bad,” you mumble.

“You shouldn’t. It’s cool.” His flat tone is anything but cool, and you can probably tell, but there’s not much Mike can do about that.

You’re pouting when you question, “You’ll still be my friend?” Mike can see the expression without actually seeing it, the doe eyed look you’d be giving him if he were in front of you right now. He can also imagine looping his arms around you and smiling crookedly and kissing your forehead, and fuck, he feels broken.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t even be a question.”

“Good.”

You lapse into another silence, just breathing and waiting for the other to break. It’s you who does. You clear your throat and state one more time, “I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

“See you in a few days.”

“Yeah,” Mike is barely listening at this point, just looks at the poster on the wall and lets it fall out of focus. “See ya’.”

You don’t hang up immediately, like you’re waiting for him to say something else, but Mike saves you the trouble and presses the ‘end’ button on his phone then tosses it on his pillow and falls back onto the mattress.

He just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand any of it. You’ve gone an entire year denying him, keeping yourself closed off and never once bringing up the possibility of actually being together. After all the time spent together, after all the date parties, all the sex, staying at each others’ houses. He feels like he knows you better than anyone else probably does. You let him in. You let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. You acted like you trusted him.

So, why isn’t he your first choice? As soon as you realized you were ready to make a fucking commitment to someone, why wasn’t it him?

Mike doubts he’ll ever get the closure. He’ll just have to cope with seeing you around campus with Zeke god damn Jaeger, have to pretend like everything is fine, like you haven’t ripped his heart out of his fucking chest.

Unbearable. It’s going to be absolutely unbearable.

Moving somewhere new always blows. It takes so much energy that Mike doesn’t have, yet here he is, hauling bags and boxes up to his new apartment unit. Honestly, he would almost prefer to stay in the frat house instead of having to make all the trips up and down these god damn concrete stairs, but at least now he’ll finally be away from all the parties. That will definitely come in handy this year considering he’s not gonna want to go to a single fucking one of them.

Once all of his belongings are stacked in his fairly small living room, Mike glances around his new haven, already thinking about how empty it feels without all the guys milling about and dicking around. He doubts he’ll miss the constant noise, but it’s still something that will take some getting used to.

What he will miss is seeing you all the time, waking up in his old room to see you still fast asleep on his pillows, sitting in the main room with the others, heckling them as they play various games. He’s been focusing on the small things for the last couple of days, the things he never took the time to really enjoy. It feels like he didn’t stare long enough or laugh hard enough when he had the chance, and now he doesn’t know when his next opportunity to do either of those with you will be.

Mike scrubs a hand down his face, scratches the hair he’s let grow out a little too much, then slowly begins to unpack his things. He’s being melodramatic, he knows, but he can’t help it. He can either let himself feel sad, or he can let the unbridled fucking rage take over, and out of the two, he prefers the former.

Mike’s class schedule gets pinned to the wall in his bedroom. His laptop gets set up. Textbooks are tossed into a corner. He really doesn’t care to do much more than that, but he figures he should make the place at least a little presentable. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone to entertain.

The thought makes him a little sick to his stomach, but it’s a sensation he’s slowly getting used to as more time passes.

Mike knows he needs to pull himself together, needs to put on a brave face. Pretty soon all the frats will be dealing with the dirty rushers, all the kids who weren’t able or didn’t think to suck up to the brothers during the spring. Then there’s inductions and hazing… Fuck, fall semesters are so tedious even without living in the house. He’s never been a huge fan of it all, but he’s had this image to uphold since he became a pledge.

Now, Mike isn’t so sure he can keep that image in place.

He stays locked away for as long as he possibly can, but eventually there’s a knock on his front door—Erwin who shoots Mike a broad grin and wriggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “You ready, bro? Got a place all your own with no one to bother you—”

“You’re bothering me.”

“Can do whatever you want,” Erwin powers on, completely unfazed. “Bring back whoever you want, no pesky frat boys to get in your way ‘cause fuck those guys, right?” He goes to grab Mike’s shoulders while laughing at his own joke, but Mike swats him away.

It makes Erwin scoff, and then he’s pushing past Mike to get into his new home, looking around for just a second and breathing out a little, “Eesh,” before turning back and giving Mike a look of condescension. “Don’t tell me this bad mood is because of your little toy finding someone else.”

“Okay, firstly, fuck off,” Mike squints at him. “And, secondly, how do you already know about that?”

Erwin examines his manicured nails, buffs them on his shirt and tells Mike, “Saw her and Jaeger walking out of the bookstore earlier. They looked pretty cozy. Pretty giddy, too, all smiles and—”

“Shut. The fuck up.”

The other man snorts. “Calm down, dude. I’m sure you can get her back or whatever you’re trying to do. Zeke’s an assole. Won’t take her long to figure it out.”

“We’ll see.”

This time Mike lets Erwin clap a hand on his shoulder before he walks out but not without suggesting, “You really should brighten things up a little in here. Hang some fairy lights or something. Girls love fairy lights.”

Mike rolls his eyes, not bothering to remind his friend that he only started unpacking half an hour ago, then physically shoves Erwin out of his apartment.

So, you’re already walking around campus flaunting your new little fling, he thinks. Perfect. He’s really looking forward to seeing that everywhere.

Mike eventually has to go by the PKA house for a meeting. Some of the members are already discussing plans for rush week and parties. Should they have lists or just keep them open and direct everyone to the yard? Are they gonna stick to their regular forms of hazing or should they change things up this year? Did anyone stick out from spring? Mike doesn’t pay much attention, just scrolls through his phone skimming through the same three social media apps over and over. He reads through the text thread he shares with you, the one he’s never deleted, and thumbs all the way up to a few months ago just to see if anything had been different back then, if he had said or done something wrong.

But, he’s gone through it a dozen times already, and he never finds anything. Maybe you just grew while he was away, experienced some kind of self-actualization that prepared you for an actual relationship.

Or, maybe Zeke just has something that Mike doesn’t.

Mike runs into you on the second day of classes. Thankfully, you’re alone, and as soon as you catch sight of him, you grin widely and launch yourself at him. It comes as a surprise, your full weight hitting him square in the chest when you jump, and he has to catch you like you’re an excited child.

It’s too close. You’re too close. Body against his as you slide down to your actual height and rest your head on his chest.

“I missed you, Zacharias.”

He wants to lift you up again, lock your thighs around his waist and kiss you like he used to. Instead, Mike pats the top of your head and gently untangles you from himself. He makes sure to smile when you look up at him, and he’s glad you aren’t pouting or frowning, your expression soft when he tells you, “Yeah, I missed you too.”

He asks how your summer classes went. You ask what his course load is like this semester. It’s just small talk, and Mike hates it.

“How’re your parents?” You question like you’re interested, but he can’t imagine you actually are.

“They’re good,” he shrugs. “Dad got a promotion at work a few weeks ago. Mom is doing the same shit she always does.” Like, making his favorite meals to heal his poor little broken heart. Mike hadn’t even told her about the conversation he’d had with you, and yet, as soon as he came out of his room the following morning, she just knew.

“Glad to hear it,” you nod. “Hey, do you wanna grab lunch or something? My next class isn’t til two, so I’m tryin’ to kill some time.”

“Actually, I told Erwin I’d meet him,” Mike lies through his teeth. He’ll be using excuses like that for as long as he can. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cool,” you wave him off. “I’ll just grab Hitch or—”

“There you are.” Mike stiffens at the vaguely familiar voice ringing out from behind him, hand flexing by his side as the school’s golden boy walks right past him and to you. “I was looking all over for you.”

“Well, here I am,” you laugh, but Mike notes how forced it sounds. It’s a laugh that stems from nerves, he thinks. But why? Is it because Mike is here? Are you afraid of how he’ll act? Or, is it that you’re still in the phase of this “relationship” with Zeke that you’re still anxious around him?

The other man doesn’t even acknowledge Mike for a full twenty seconds. He heavily considers just walking away without a word, but the blond does eventually turn around to look at him and shows a smile that Mike would describe as slimy but you would probably call charming.

“Zacharias,” Zeke greets and holds out a hand. “It’s been a minute.”

Mike doesn’t like the way he says his last name. He only likes the way his friends say it. How you say it. Even if it started off as a way to keep your distance, he grew fond of it. Not as fond as his given name, of course, but hearing those four syllables from your mouth, always laced with attitude, never fails to make him smile.

“Yeah, it has,” Mike agrees, clasping hands with him.

He immediately feels Zeke stick his index finger out over his wrist, an attempt of taking control of the shake. Mike has seen it too many times to count, the petty attempt to flip hands so that one man’s is on top of the other. It’s a terrible way to flaunt one’s masculinity or power, and it’s never worked on Mike.

His hand is quite a bit larger than most people’s, after all. It’s definitely larger than Zeke’s, so when he tries to turn it, Mike doesn’t have a problem keeping his wrist straight.

The blond has to look up at him, actually tilt his head back because Mike has a good five inches on him, and after a couple more seconds, Zeke gives up on the pathetic display of dominance. That doesn’t stop Mike from squeezing his palm just a little too hard, though, just enough to see the muscles in Zeke’s jaw twitch.

When he lets go he chances a glance at you, finding you rubbing your temples. You mumble something Mike can’t hear, probably about men being stupid because there’s no way that little show escaped your notice.

Zeke steps over to you once again and asks the same question you had asked Mike—”You wanna get lunch, babe?”

Hearing him calling you that causes Mike’s blood to bubble in his veins, blistering from the inside out. It’s time for him to leave.

“Yeah, sure,” you nod. Eyes flicking back to Mike, you force another smile and tell him, “See you around.”

The two of you walk off, and Mike watches for just a little too long as Zeke laces his fingers with yours. Once you’re both a safe distance away, the fucker looks back at Mike from over his shoulder and smirks at him.

Mike has long legs. He could easily catch up to you and punch Zeke square in the jaw, make his head snap to the side so that he drops to the ground.

But, what would you think of that? There’s no way you’d be happy with him, and if there’s one thing that would be worse than Mike having to see you parade around with someone who isn’t him, it would be you ignoring him completely.

The first couple of weeks are honestly a blur. Too much is happening for Mike to focus on. The only thing that seems real to him is the ache in his chest. It distracts him day in and day out, through the late rushers and all the sucking up, through the first couple of parties, bid day and the first rounds of hazing. It’s just always there.

He is notably quieter when in the house, and it seems like everyone knows why. While Erwin pokes fun at him for his moodiness, Nile takes a more adult approach and simply asks how he’s doing, if he needs anything, going as far as offering, “You need me to punch that dude in the throat? Plant drugs in his bag? I’m pretty sure Gelgar has coke on his person at all times.”

He’s a good guy. Mike is glad he got voted in as PKA President this year despite Erwin giving him a run for his money. Nile is just personable enough to bring members in and have a good time at events, and just controlling enough to make sure things in the house are taken care of. Plus, Erwin doesn’t seem too broken up about getting Vice instead.

It’s a relief when lacrosse starts back up, finally gives him a way to get some of his frustration out. The other teams have never been luckier to be wearing helmets otherwise Mike would have broken several noses within the first game alone.

The season has some overlap with baseball, games scheduled on the same day, sometimes at the same time. Mike keeps himself from looking into the stands to try to find you, scared that you’ll be there or scared that you won’t be, he isn’t sure.

And, of course, Zeke’s face is plastered everywhere after he pitches a perfect fucking game. Mike wants to be angry, wants to spit on the flyers and punch every computer that’s displaying the college’s home screen, but if he’s being honest with himself, he knows that if it were anyone else, Mike would be impressed. Pitching a perfect game is pretty fucking cool, and the school is lucky to have a player as talented as Zeke, but god, what Mike wouldn’t do to just curbstomp him.

Your name still lights up on his phone fairly often to ask how games went or how his classes are going. You’ve asked for help with homework on one occasion and lunch on another, but after Mike lies about only being able to walk you through the material over the phone and shoots you down for lunch, you seem to get the picture.

He doesn’t want it to be awkward between you, but he doesn’t know how to act now. His entire relationship with you started off as a drunken fuck, and it’s been mostly physical since then. How is he supposed to be able to spend time with you without touching you? Even the semester you refused to hook up with him, there were still times when you were both actively fighting the temptation. Mike can remember seeing it in your eyes all the time, probably just as often as you’d see it in his. You’d sit with a leg pressed against his, fall asleep on his arm every once in a while, and he wants that back now, but there’s no way the two of you can do that anymore. He doesn’t possess the same self-control.

Over the weekend, you end up cracking and trying again, asking for help with studying for a quiz, and Mike has to contemplate it for at least fifteen minutes before he gives in.

Coffee shop on 7th? you text him, and Mike chuckles to himself. The only places you’ve ever studied together is at the library or in his room, and while he could only get as far as a hand between your legs in the school building, he would usually end up in bed with you whenever going over something behind closed doors.

It makes sense that you want to go to a busier place, more eyes to watch you. It’s irritating, but he understands.

Mike grabs one of his own textbooks from the previous year, the one he actually bought so that he could highlight and take notes in the margins, then makes his way to the little cafe.

He’s been to this particular shop many times before, with you as well as the girls who came before—the ones that never mattered. Mike easily spots you at a little table by the window, your own book and several papers spread out around you. When you see him, you grin then hurry to clear a space for him, organizing what Mike recognizes as reading guides.

“Hey, stranger," you greet.

Mike nods, eyes landing on the green hoodie you’re wearing, the one that covers too much of you, that spills over the tops of your legging clad thighs and hides your little hands. It’s his, but it’s always looked better on you. The fact that you still wear it makes Mike’s heart swell a tiny bit as he takes his seat. The sun is hitting you just right and making your face glow, making your eyes twinkle, and he doesn’t know if he can do this.

“So, what d’you need help with?” He prompts before he can make up his mind to turn right back around.

You slide one of the guides over to him and point out several circled questions. The blanks are filled in, but you ask him, “Why?” dramatically. “None of that makes sense to me.”

Mike laughs through his nose and glances at the page your textbook is flipped to so he can open his own.

“Why’d you keep your book from last year?”

He glances up before turning it to show the highlighted lines, the starred passages, the little annotations for better understanding.

“One, because I worked hard on making it better, and two,” he feels his mouth curl up, the teasing coming naturally when he tells you, “I figured you’d probably benefit from it.”

You squint at him, scrunching your nose up, and Mike takes a mental snapshot to tuck away.

“Rude,” you utter.

He raises his eyebrows and leans back in his chair. “I think ‘thank you’ is the term you’re looking for.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just explain this to me if you’re so smart.”

“You know I’m smart.”

Mike doesn’t understand where the casual back-and-forth is coming from. Is it easy because he's done it so many times before? Words tumble from his mouth before they actually cross his mind, and he’s both grateful (it’s better than the awkward small talk he thought he’d have to make) and worried. If he’s speaking without actually thinking things through, what else might he do before his brain catches up? Will he smooth hair out of your eyes? Will he brush his hand over yours? Will he stare at your lips for too long? All of those are habits he hasn’t managed to break yet, but he will break if he accidentally offends you by crossing any of these lines.

He sits with his hands tucked between his legs, only moving to flip a page or point something out with his pinky finger. He's reading upside down, and you're leaning over the tabe, staring at the book then staring at him. Mike tries to look through you instead of at you, but it's hard as you let out a little oh! when something clicks or pouting when it doesn't.

"I still don't get it."

So, Mike finds different ways of explaining things because he knows this information very well now. It's still pretty fresh in his brain, and he may or may not have reviewed some of it when he saw how many of your classes matched up with his.

"Okay, I feel a lot better," you sigh once Mike has gone through every page.

Mike is more or less sitting on his hands at this point, gritting his teeth behind the grin plastered on his face because this is the part where he asks if you wanna go back to the house. This is the part where you wind down together, watching dumb TV shows or pawing at each other, rolling in his bed and laughing and moaning. That's what's supposed to happen.

"Alright, well, if that's it, I should get going," Mike tries, stretching his arms out and nearly smacking the person sitting behind him right in the head.

You snort, cover your mouth, and look away. It's what you always do. You can't look at him when you start laughing or you'll just laugh harder and harder, and while Mike adores it, the general public usually does not.

But, then Mike is snickering because he can feel the stranger trying to burn holes in the back of his skull, has to bite his fist to keep himself quiet, and when you chance a glance and see, you slam your head down on the table, whole body shaking with giggles.

It's always the little things that get you. On one of the walks with Scout over Spring Break, Mike had tripped over a stick on the trail. He managed to catch himself, but Jesus Christ, you didn't stop laughing for ten minutes.

"God fucking—" he's starting to lose it too as he stands and gathers your supplies from the table, tucking them all under one arm then using his other to pull you out of your seat. "We have to leave before they make us."

You hide your face in your hands, trusting Mike to guide you by the shoulders, and once you're both outside, you belly laugh until you wave your arms and gasp, "I can't—I can't breathe—I can't breathe!" Your voice is all high pitched and hysterical, and all Mike can do is bring you to his chest so that you can let your giggles die off in the privacy of his t-shirt.

He can feel your breath through the material as you calm down, eventually looking up and wiping tears from your eyes as you continue to grin.

Mike tilts his face down to stare at you, aware that all of his affections are shining right through his eyes, but he doesn't care because you don't seem to.

“You’re a fucking dork,” he hums, has a fully conscious thought of touching your face—no accident, no impulse, a complete, coherent, thought, so he does it. He just does it. Palm over your cheek, thumb gently tracing to wipe away another tear from your little fit.

You let out a long exhale, close your eyes and hum, then reach up to cover Mike's hand with yours.

Your fingers lock into the spaces between his, and you hold on for a few seconds before letting your hand fall, taking his with it. And, just like that, all the good feelings that had grown inside of him over the course of the study session disappear.

"Miche," you sigh, still holding onto two of his fingers.

He smiles in a way that makes you frown, then mumbles, "Yeah, I know."

After handing your supplies back, Mike kisses you on the top of the head before you can stop him, then turns and starts walking toward the street his apartment is on.

"Why are you always wearing that hoodie?"

You look up from your laptop just as Zeke steps out of his room freshly showered and shirtless. It's a sight that should probably make your mouth water, but instead it's gone dry at his question.

"Oh, uh, I don't really know," you bullshit. "It's just big and comfortable, I guess."

Zeke uses the towel around his neck to dry his hair a little better, questions, "Well, whose is it?" while his face is slightly obscured.

If you pause, he'll probably be suspicious. If you answer, he will also be suspicious. And, you can't really blame him. People know you on campus as Mike Zacharias' friend or girlfriend or plaything or whatever. You assume Zeke having to walk around with that hanging over his head is pretty annoying.

"Oh, wait," he starts before you can answer. Squinting without his glasses, he grumbles, "That's one of the lacrosse hoodies, isn't it?"

You look down at the cracked logo and try not to smile at it. "Yeah. It's one of Mike's old ones."

"Right." He pads over to you and takes your laptop from your legs despite your protests of being in the middle of an online assignment, setting it on the coffee table behind him. Then, using one arm to brace himself on the back of the couch, Zeke holds himself above you and takes your chin between two fingers so that he can tilt your face and kiss you.

It makes you melt. It always does. Your heart beats like a drum in your chest for about two seconds before it relaxes into a subtle thrumming, a white noise that drowns out everything else.

You straighten your back in an attempt to get closer, but Zeke pulls away ever so slightly, makes you chase after his lips and you do. You do because you want more, want him.

It's been weeks now and the farthest you've gotten with him, the farthest he's let you get with him, was the series of harsh kisses he'd ladened you with up against his front door a few days ago. He'd pushed your shirt up and shoved a knee between your legs, giving you something to grind against, but it never progressed to anything more.

You don't understand. It's not like he's never had sex. You've heard girls talk about him on campus, how he'd been seeing so-and-so for a couple months in freshman year, fucked some other chick at a party, etc., etc.

Then you'd met his actual ex the other day, one he dated officially for a semester last year before breaking things off. Her name is Rhi. She's very pretty. And, she had pulled Zeke into a full blown conversation without looking at you once. The way she batted her eyes and smiled at him, twisting her hair and shoving at him playfully—Oh yeah. She's definitely seen him naked.

You didn't say anything about it for a while, just stewed in silence until Zeke finally sighed and asked, "What would you like to know?"

He'd given you the vague outline—met her in class, studied together, decided to date, left her to focus on baseball. That excuse hit a little too close to home, but you'd let it roll off your shoulders.

The point is Zeke has fucked other girls, but he won't fuck you, and you need to know why because you're starting to get desperate. It's not a good look. It's one you never wanted to wear, but the way he stares at you and the way he talks to you, always pointing out your strengths, encouraging you, complimenting you is intoxicating.

When Zeke's eyes are on you, it’s like you're the most important person in the room. He has some ability to make you feel that way, to make everyone feel that way you realized one night after a game. People flock to him. They want to listen to what he has to say. They want to agree with him where he can see.

It's hard to explain to anyone who hasn't met him, but the best way you can describe it (a way only a few people will understand) is that he has a twenty for charisma. He's talented and smart and engaging, can convince anyone of anything the same way he's convinced you that he wants you.

Hand slipping behind your arching back, Zeke presses you against him for just a moment, then drops onto the couch next to you only to tug you on top of him.

You're already breathing too heavily, clutching his face in both your hands as you grind your hips against his. He squeezes your ass, smirking against your mouth when you whimper, then moves his hands to push both the hoodie and your shirt off.

You lift your arms, letting Zeke strip you as your mind grows hazy. He mutters more to himself than to you, a low, "Get this shit off," then carelessly tosses your clothes over the armrest.

Fingers climb up your ribs, almost tickling, making you squirm in his lap. You can feel that he's getting hard, thank god. This just might be the night, please fucking let it be.

You've never been a big fan of terms like ‘blue-balls’ or ‘blue-bean’, never even thought it existed, and it really doesn't; it's just a form of manipulation, of guilting your partner into sex, and you know this because you've had an entire rant about it prepared since high school, but right now, in this particular moment, you're aching. Your insides ache. Your clit aches. You just want—

Zeke pinches one of your nipples hard enough to clear your head for a second, causes you to cry out and pull back. He lets go, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches you and flicks over the sore bud with a fingertip.

"Zeke," you breathe, body trembling.

"What is it, baby?" He coos.

"I—"

He snakes a hand between the two of you, ridding you of any and all thoughts as he rubs over your covered pussy. You're almost positive that if he keeps doing it, you'll start to leak through your leggings, right into his hand.

Panting, an old track plays in the back of your head, a deep voice, breathy and promising, gonna fuck you dry tonight.

You lean forward to kiss Zeke again, letting him suck and bite hard enough to make the frown on your face look natural, like he put it there.

Flames are licking up and down your legs, then your arms, but even though it's Zeke's lap you're sitting in and Zeke's tongue in your mouth and Zeke's fingers massaging your pussy, it's suddenly Mike you're thinking about, and well… That can't be good.

You tangle your hands in Zeke's hair, the different texture bringing you back to reality. His thick beard is scratching against your face. His bare torso is wiry with muscle and pressed to yours. He moves his hand and raises his hips to meet yours, a groan catching in his throat. It looks like he's finally losing his composure, cheeks flushed, eyes are foggy. When you break away, he licks away the string of spit holding you together, tongue running over his lip seductively.

"Can we—" you start, but Zeke speaks at the same time.

"It's getting late."

Blinking at him, you find yourself experiencing too many emotions to actually identify a single one. You feel your eyebrows knit together, but it’s more from your confusion than it is your frustration.

But, you don’t want to be frustrated. You don’t want to be or look upset about not getting sex. That would make you a terrible person, and you’re not about to make him feel bad for not being ready to take that step with you. You’ve been on the receiving end of that, and it doesn’t feel good.

The amount of times you’ve had to masturbate in the last few weeks is a little fucking ridiculous, though.

Nodding mostly to yourself to get your thoughts back in line, you slide off of Zeke to stand up. Your hand is trembling when you reach for your clothes, heat still coursing through you, but you manage to gently grab them from the couch rather than snatch them.

Shirt and hoodie back in place, you gather your things, feeling Zeke’s gaze on you the entire time. You don’t say anything, just nibble on your bottom lip as you run over all the events that took place over the night, what you possibly did wrong, what turned him off or just failed to turn him on in the first place.

After slipping everything back into your bag, Zeke finally gets to his feet and takes it from you, walking with you outside to your car.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he tells you, the picture of calm and collected while your body remains buzzing.

“Okay, yeah.”

He puts your stuff in the front passenger seat, shuts the door, and gives you a sweet little peck that you wish lasted longer.

Zeke says good night, begins walking back to the building, but stops and calls to you right before you shrink into the car.

Even from this distance, you can tell he’s looking you dead in the eye, face suddenly very serious when he tells you, “You can go ahead and stop wearing that hoodie.”

* For the first time since the semester started, lacrosse and baseball games do not overlap one another, and you're able to spend the warm afternoon in the stands, cheering on the friends you made over the last year.

The home team is dominating, Mike and Erwin are too fucking quick for their opponents to get in the way of. The way the ball just flies back and forth between them, like a game of keep-away, shows just how on-the-same-page they are. The other guys are good too, doing a spectacular job of staying one leg ahead, defending their star players and assisting in the offensive effort.

The last goal is made by Mike who launches the ball from the center of the field right into the goal, and both the crowd and the teams lose their fucking minds.

You're up on your feet screaming and clapping, voice breaking as your shrill cry tears your throat. You know you're being drowned out by everyone around you, but as Mike gets lauded for being the god he is—putting up with backslaps and hugs and a headlock from Erwin—he still manages to find you in the second row, grinning in that crooked way you love so much.

You don't know exactly when that started happening, probably sometime after Spring break. Or, maybe it was there since the beginning, just laying dormant at the back of your head so that you could focus on denying him.

It doesn't really matter now since you're actually with someone. That someone isn't around right now, but he's in your thoughts as your chest fills with affection and pride for your friend.

Erwin is shouting about another open party, and your mind is made up to not attend because Zeke wouldn't appreciate it, but then Mike is suddenly lifting himself onto the raised, concrete stands and pointing at you, and before you know it, you're hopping down the next bleacher without a care for the fans who have to lean out of the way.

He's incredibly sweaty as you wrap your arms around his neck, but you don't mind. You were so convinced he would be mad at you or try to avoid you.

You're very aware that you had hurt him by getting with Zeke, and while he had been pretty guarded for the first few weeks, he's opened up some since that day in the coffee shop, when you'd nearly giggled yourself to death. You hadn't expected that to be what cracked his walls, especially considering how that visit had ended, but you're glad that it did.

"Haven't seen you cheering for me in a while," Mike laughs next to your ear.

He's dizzy with adrenaline, swaying back and forth as he squeezes you, and you tell him, "If you make us fall, I will beat you up, I swear."

"Okay," he says in a stupid voice of obvious disbelief, "Whatever you say."

You've been texting more, going over homework together, though you haven't needed his help in-person since he had switched books with you that day. It had been so smooth and subtle, you didn't realize until you opened it to study the following day, immediately noticing all the notes and highlights.

It had made you cry like a little bitch in the middle of your dorm, and you called Mike to thank him without bothering to hide your tears and hiccups.

"Come to the party tonight," he demands, but it's so soft, like he's still giving you a chance to say no.

The crowd is still yelling, so you have to keep speaking into each other's ears, and you ask, "Why? All the Pike parties are sticky and gross."

"'Cause we haven't gotten drunk together in a while," Mike states in the form of a whine.

You snort, feeling his hair dripping onto your shoulder. You should probably be disgusted, but it's not the first time you've gotten sweaty with him, and it's definitely not the worst bodily fluid he's made a mess on you with.

"You know what happens when we get drunk together," you remind him with a smile he can't see. "Can't do that anymore."

"I promise I'll behave."

That's not the problem. You don't know if you can behave. You've been wound up for over a month now, and it is driving you insane. No matter how many times you get off alone in your room at night, you still ache as if you're being edged.

So, getting fucked up with someone you know for a fact can fuck you stupid… probably not the best idea.

"Miche," you protest, drawing his name out.

"Just think about it."

He leaves you with that, hopping down and walking away with his arms in the air as everyone surrounding you cheers for him until he disappears. You just stand there amidst the noise, shirt now wet as you contemplate the pros and cons of going to another PKA party.

As always, Zeke asks what your plans are for the night, but for the first time since you met him, you lie. * King's Cup and Rage Cage and Beer Pong galore. Party-goers are pooling onto the lawn, and you're just waiting for campus police to show because of the chaos, but you're not necessarily scared of it. So you go to jail for a couple days. Worse things could happen.

Currently, you and Mike are sitting on the sidewalk nursing beers and giggling at the new pledges who keep running around the house in less and less clothes.

"Honestly, this isn't that bad," Mike tells you. "Erwin suggested we make them all watch snuff together."

You give him an incredulous look as you raise the glass bottle to your mouth. "Erwin is a god damn psychopath, what the fuck."

"We had to do it and didn't turn out too bad."

"And, just like that, I'm scared of you."

Mike laughs before sticking two fingers in his mouth and whistling as a brawny blond speeds past in nothing but boxers—Reiner, you think his name is.

There are only a few new guys who stick out to you—that one, a long-faced kid named Jean, freckle boy Marco, and, naturally, Zeke's younger brother, Eren. He sorta skeeves you out, so you've been doing your best to stay out of his sight despite never formally meeting him before.

"Kid's kind of a prick, a little too cocky. Always talking about how he's related to Zeke, or should I say your lo-ver," Mike chuckles, sounding amused, but he still downs the rest of his beer afterward.

You let out a little growl, just drunk enough to be too honest, and grumble, "Not my lover. Also, I would never use that term. So cringey."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's weird and dramat—"

"No," Mike cuts you off, "What do you mean about him not being that?"

You fall back on the concrete, bumping the back of your head a little too hard and scrunching your face up.

"We haven't had sex. The dude just will not fuck me for some reason."

"Are you serious?"

You glance at Mike and find his eyes wide in alarm.

"As a heart attack. I have never been so frustrated in my entire life."

You probably shouldn't be talking about this with him, one, because you assume it's like twisting a knife right in Mike's gut and two, because the more you drink, the less self-control you have.

He grunts then tosses his bottle into the yard for some poor pledge to slip on.

"His loss."

"Whatever. I'm sure he'll come around eventually," you sigh then sit back up. "And, until then, I guess I'm practicing celibacy or some shit."

Mike laughs hard at that, and it makes you smack him on the arm. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying," he raises his hands. "You're, like, the neediest person I know."

"Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"In the bedroom, dummy. Obviously not all the time."

This is not at all where you wanted this conversation to go. The more you think about it, the more you feel that ache, the more you want to quell it.

"We should change the subject."

Mike looks at you, flipping hair out of his eyes and smiling like the cocky frat boy he pretends to be.

"Why? Gettin' all worked up."

"You are literally the worst."

You stand and finish your drink, throwing it a few feet away from Mike's as you tell him, "I need to get a little more fucked up if I'm gonna deal with your ass all night."

"Uh huh."

He follows you back inside, but while you make your way into the kitchen, Mike stops to talk with Erwin about one thing or another. It means he has to entertain the masses, talk about the game, and you post up against a wall to watch him.

You should leave. Mike is looking a little too attractive in his stupid fucking pastel polo, and you're supposed to meet Zeke for lunch tomorrow anyway. Zeke, your boyfriend.

Or, well, he hasn't said it explicitly, but you hold hands in public and ignore other people, just make it obvious that both of you aren't interested in anyone else.

Except when Mike sidles up to you with foggy eyes and a smirk he hasn't worn around you in a long time, you groan at the thought that you are interested in someone else. Even if it's just one night, god, you need it so bad. And, you know Mike can give it to you. Exactly the way you want it.

It's Zeke's fault, really. You know he knows how desperate you're getting. If he'd just explain why he doesn't want to have sex, you could deal with it much better than you are now, but he continues to leave you in the dark. It makes you think you're doing something wrong.

Then, there's the problem of feeling like the shittiest person alive every time you get frustrated. You've spent nights trying to rationalize it, but it's hard to think straight when you're so, undeniably horny.

"Don't look at me like that," you tell Mike with a scoff.

"Why not?"

"'Cause you said you'd behave tonight."

He cocks his head to the side and makes a face. "Did I? That doesn't sound like something I'd say to you."

"Oh my god, you're impossible. And, drunk."

"I'm not really that drunk," he waves you off. "It takes more than a few beers to get me fucked up, remember? Downfall of being this large."

Jesus, he really is rubbing it in your face now. Wide with muscle and so fucking tall. Not to mention his—

"I really cannot do this, Miche," you try again, gritting your teeth when his pupils dilate. "Zeke would be so pissed."

"So? Come on, just one more time. I didn't know the last time would be the last time."

You hadn't either. You don't know what you would have done differently had you known—maybe just taken the time to appreciate his incredible body more—but it doesn't matter now.

You try to sound firm and irritated when you snap, "You know you're being kinda manipulative, right?"

Mike tilts his head back as if you just shoved it, blinks a couple times, then swears out loud. "Oh, fuck." He takes a step away, eyes clear for the first time in several minutes. "I'm sorry. I didn't even—"

"It's fine," you wave. "I just wanted you to know. I'm drunk and you're hot, and I don't wanna fuck things up with Zeke."

"Yeah, I get it. Fuck. If you, like, wanna leave, I won't stop you. It was a joke, and then it wasn’t a joke and—That was a shit thing to do."

"Little bit, but you get a pass this time," you laugh through your nose. "Just don't go pulling that bullshit on some unsuspecting freshman or anything."

He runs a hand through his hair, red with embarrassment, and you think to yourself, Mike is a good guy. One of the best. You don't know of many who would take that kind of criticism to heart—how many would feel genuinely guilty. It is college, and every girl knows the trend of fratty sports players getting off scot-free after being charged with sexual assault. Given his status at the school, Mike could definitely do something like that and get away with it.

But, he would never.

You push him gently to show you aren't mad, tell him, "I still wanna hang out with you. We don't get to as much as we used to."

Mike's small smile looks relieved as he takes a deep breath. "This isn't exactly the best place to just chill, but—"

"I haven't seen your new apartment yet."

You regret it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, your little tune changing ridiculously quickly, but you can't deny that you're curious. He's still your best friend, and you want to know what he's done with his new place. Is it bland like his old room in the house, or did he let his real personality show through?

"You sure?" He questions.

"Yeah. We can just, like, play video games or something."

"Are you sure?"

He must feel terrible. You can relate.

"If you don't want me over, just say so," you snort.

"No, no, of course I do. I just don't want you to feel weird about being alone or anything."

"Nah, like you said, you're not really drunk. I'll sober up with water. We'll be fine."

You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself. Without the presence of alcohol, you should be able to keep it together, and the distraction of Zelda or Mario will surely help.

"Okay, yeah," Mike nods. "Let's go then."

You don't even bother finishing your drink, just set it on a countertop and follow him out to his Wrangler. It's been a while since you've ridden in it. It's been a while since you've ridden him, your brain helpfully supplies, and as you pull up to the unfamiliar apartment complex, you once again begin to think that this was a bad idea.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 4 years

Text

Holy | Jurdan One Shot

Written for: Jurdan Smut Week 2020, Day 1: Dom/Sub @jurdannet @jurdannetrevels

Summary: “You’re a liar. A dirty, mortal liar.”

WC: 3171

Rating: E is for Everyone be sinning in this fic

CW: EXPLICIT NSFW CONTENT. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

AO3 | Masterlist | Based on this edit

“On your knees, darling,” Cardan’s voice is dangerous, silken, like the ruby red ribbon he’s holding.

It takes Jude a great deal of effort to sink obediently to the floor. She is so unused to bending at the knee, but trust is the name of the game—a game Jude needs ample practice playing.

Her palms are sweaty with anticipation, her heartbeat a riot in her chest. She is flushed and bare, kneeling before him like some kind of sinless supplicant, though this may be the biggest lie of them all.

Tonight, Jude had lied.

She’d lied to Cardan and he’d known it from the moment the words left her lips. Part of her thinks she lied just to bait him.

A bait he all too willingly took. His temper had glittered in his eyes before he’d swept them off back to the Royal Chambers, closed and bolted the doors behind them, sent the guards away.

Then, he’d undressed her, as one would a wound.

Now, Jude studies the ornate rug she kneels on, the worn leather of Cardan’s boots as he crouches before her, and thinks this is the best kind of trouble she could have possibly sought to get herself into.

And also the worst. The idea of being at the mercy of another is still a terrifying prospect to the High Queen of Elfhame. Fear, she’d found however, in the right circumstances could be quite the heady aphrodisiac.

“My queen,” Cardan says, brushing a stray hair away from her face. “Exquisite. As stardust.”

Jude can’t help but blush deeper.

Her husband’s compliments, though scarce, were never ordinary, even after all these years. And why should they be, when they loved each other in such extremes?

Cardan takes up her hands gently in his and begins wrapping the long length of ribbon around her wrists, binding them in front so that she is not entirely in control, but not entirely without it either.

It’s funny to Jude that Cardan should be always so careful in this, considering the not-at-all-gentle treatment she is about to receive.

She doesn’t dare laugh, though. Not now.

“Do you understand why I am doing this, Jude,” he asks.

“Yes.” Her eyes flit over the sharp angles of his face. She meets Cardan’s gaze, as bravely as she can. His is calm, like black water before a storm. A storm which shimmers on the edge of the horizon between them.

Cardan stares at her bottom lip, now pulled between her teeth, as if he might bite into it too, given the chance. Jude is sure she would let him.

After a moment, Cardan lowers his gaze back to the task at hand. “And why is that?” He loops the ribbon around itself then pulls tight.

“Because I lied,” she tells him, not an ounce of remorse in her voice.

“Precisely,” he says. “And what is it you lied about?”

“I said I hated you.”

“Yes.” Cardan nods, looping the ribbon a second time. “You said you hated me—in front of the entire court.” He pins her with a glare from underneath the trellis of his lashes, and Jude is reminded of the way in which he used to look upon her frequently—with an odd coupling of ire and lust.

Jude’s heart flies to her throat. There’s no use in denying it. “I did.”

“Why is that a bad thing, sweet villain?”

“Because they might misunderstand,” Jude says. “Because they might think I hate you in earnest.”

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“Because we need to remain a united front for the sake of Elfhame.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his devastating mouth. While her answer is not technically wrong, it’s not the answer he was looking for. Cardan ties off the ribbon in a careful bow, then looks at her with one raised brow, challenging.

Jude looks down at her bound hands, because it’s still hard to admit vulnerability, even to him. Even so exposed as she is now. “Because I don’t actually hate you.” It is a half truth, at best.

Her husband grips her chin between his thumb and the crook of his forefinger, canting her face so that she must look at him.

“Prove it.” Cardan says this like a dare. Probably because it is. The sweet plum wine of his breath fans across her face, making her head spin.

“I love you,” Jude says, softly. Saying these words aloud is always the greatest submission of herself, her deepest surrender.

Cardan knows this, and looks at her like she is the one and only wonder of the world. “You love me,” he repeats, letting go of her chin. It sounds more like he is trying to convince himself of the statement, rather than confirm she answered his question to his satisfaction.

Jude raises her bound hands to cup his cheeks. His face is warm and a bit stubbly. She strokes the pad of her thumb down his jawline. “Very much,” she says.

The way he closes his eyes, leans into her touch, makes something in her heart fracture a little.

“And I, you, my formidable dagger,” Cardan says. Removing her hands from his face, he places a kiss on both her palms before rising to his feet.

Then, something in his air shifts. He circles her like prey. Jude knows she must stay still, but the urge to follow his every move is a tempting one.

“Looking at you now, I see strength and grace. A sharply honed beauty,” Cardan says from behind her. Jude feels her cheeks heat anew, and she is glad he cannot see her blooming humility.

“I also see a liar,” Cardan continues. “And for liars, there is punishment.”

She can feel the thrumming of her pulse, every inch of her alive under his gaze. “Yes, my husband.”

She hears a rumble roll through Cardan’s chest.

Jude knows full well what that particular term of endearment does to him. And since she is so compromised before him, it is only fair she assert herself where she can.

“I am going to spank you, Jude,” Cardan tells her, apparently deciding to ignore transgression. “And when that is through, I am going to take you.”

A delicious curl of desire licks Jude’s core. She shivers.

“Does that sound like fair punishment to you?” he asks.

“Yes, my husband.”

Cardan is at her ear, long fingers at her throat before she can blink. They are feather-light, tracing up the veins in her neck, feeling the pound of her pulse there. It is threatening enough that Jude is given to staying very, very still. She feels the drive of his shoulder against her back.

“If you call me that one more time, Jude,” he growls so close to her that she can feel the vibrations of his voice skitter down her spine, “I will have no choice but to bend you over and fuck you with wild abandon. I will not be concerned with your pleasure, nor will I await your release.”

Jude’s eyes widen and she draws in a sharp breath.

“This will bring me no great amount of satisfaction,” Cardan continues, “As I do so love to feel you come around me. You want to satisfy me, don’t you, Jude?”

Jude swallows and nods.

“Good,” Cardan says, stroking a hand down her hair before moving away. “You are safe, dear Jude, but you will relinquish. Now, lean forward and be still.”

Jude complies, without hesitation this time. Since her wrists are bound, she goes down on her elbows, ass raised in the air.

She is completely exposed. Vulnerable.

Cardan kneels down beside her, sidling up to her left hip. She can feel the bulge straining beneath his trousers.

She’s not sure if it’s this or the knowledge of what’s to come that makes her slick with want. But when she feels Cardan’s palm come to rest on her backside, the simple touch sends a lance of heat coursing through her.

Her thighs press together.

“So eager, my queen,” Cardan hums, steadying her with a grip of his free hand on her right hip. “One might wonder if you devised this plan from the start.”

Jude grins wickedly at the floor, but says nothing.

“Naughty thing,” he says.

Without warning, he brings his hand down against her bare flesh. It’s not a hard blow, just enough for a slight pang of pain. But the surprise of it makes her gasp.

“You’re a liar, Jude,” Cardan says, rubbing slow circles with his palm for a moment, letting her adjust to the new sensation.

She feels his hand disappear again, and braces herself. When he slaps her the second time, it’s harder, a bright shock against her skin. The sound echoes off the Royal Chamber walls.

Jude bites her lip.

The combination of sharp pain followed by Cardan’s cool, soothing ministrations is disconcerting. She shouldn’t like this as much as she does. This pain, this yielding. Everything about it goes against her very instincts. Yet, Jude grows more desperate still.

Suddenly, Cardan delivers three consecutive strokes, hard and fast.

“A dirty.” Slap. “Mortal.” Thwap. “Liar.” Smack.

Then, he swipes two wicked fingers up the length of her heat.

Jude moans, feeling herself pulse at the unexpected sensitivity. Her hips rock back of their own volition, chasing the friction she craves.

Cardan clicks his tongue at that. “I told you to be still,” he reminds her. “Do not test my patience, sweet villain.”

Jude’s fists ball up in front of her, pulling against their binds. In her head, she slings a slew of curses at him.

He is rock hard and throbbing, pressed firmly against her hip. It is a cruel kind of torture to feel his arousal and be without the power to sate it.

She wants nothing more than to be able to touch him, to clamber up his torso and peel him out of his clothes, to feel him hot against her skin, to make him tremble under her touch.

“I’ll be still,” she gasps instead. “Please. I’ll be still.”

Cardan says nothing, only resumes his soothing circles over the rawness of her backside. After a moment, he slaps her rapidly, once on her ass and once more against her swollen folds.

Jude yelps, the contact sending a shudder through her.

The effort it takes to remain unmoving is immense. Her breath is ragged in her chest. She is positively aching, and entirely unsure when or even if Cardan will give her what she desires.

“What are you?”

“A liar,” Jude chokes out.

Cardan brings his hand down hard again, and there’s a sharp spark of commingled pleasure and pain that swells in her.

“Louder.”

“I’m a liar,” she nearly shouts.

He strikes her cunt twice more. “Wrong. Try again.”

“I’m a liar!” She wails into the carpet. “A dirty, mortal liar!”

Jude is on the verge of tears now. She has experienced pain far greater than this before, but none which has held her in such agonised suspense. Such terrible denial.

The flesh of her ass is raw as roses, dripping with the evidence of her arousal between her thighs. She feels the heated prickle of shame flood her face, and yet, she remains still, gaze glued to the floor.

“Look at you,” Cardan says, wonderment in his voice. “You are breathtaking.”

He runs a slender finger up her slit before dipping down between her folds. His finger pumps and curls inside her, feeling her inner walls. The feeling is so delectable that Jude must stop herself from arching into his touch.

Cardan hums, delighted. “You’re drenched, wife,” he says, withdrawing his hand.

A frenzied heat surges through her at the loss of contact. Jude can only manage a sobbed, “Cardan.”

Relief is a balm like no other as her husband shrugs out of his shirt and positions himself behind her, spreading her legs with his own. The sound of his zipper sets her squirming.

When he finally, miraculously, slides into her, he does so in one smooth stroke, until he is buried deep, to the hilt.

Cardan hisses as he bottoms out. But, to Jude’s dismay, he does not move. Just stays there, sheathed in her completely, savouring the feeling of her warmth around him.

Jude is keening, the soft sounds muffled by the carpet as she tries her very best not to writhe against him. Because gods, does she need that ambrosial ache. Starting in her belly and lapping up her spine until every inch of her is flooded.

“Cardan,” she grits out, fingernails digging into the rug.

“Yes, my darling god?” he says, as if he doesn’t know what could possibly be wrong. As if he doesn’t know what torments her so.

Jude swallows. This terrible anticipation makes her feel like live wires twist frenetic under her skin. She hates it.

“Cardan. Please.”

“Please, what, dear Jude?”

“Move!” Her voice is taut in her throat from all of this waiting and wanting and wondering. If Jude were not held at his mercy, she would have pinned him to the floor by now.

A sudden chill sinks in her stomach before she knows exactly why. Then, Cardan has a fistful of her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking it so that she arches further into him.

He leans down over her, making her gasp. This angle is treacherously deep.

“Unfortunately,” Cardan growls low in her ear. “I don’t take commands from lying mortals.”

Jude is perplexed by the desire his words stir up. It licks her to the quick, going against everything she thought she knew about herself.

But the fact that remains is this: Jude craves the force of his arms, the moreish knowledge of his desire, his own unmooring. It is a particular tincture of power which only Cardan can give her. And for that, she must surrender.

Abruptly, he releases her hair and in within the span of a few breaths, strikes her across the ass four times.

The hits come in rapid succession, with much the same vigor as before. Only these are more intense. Her eyes snap open.

Jude, now filled to the brim with her husband’s cock, feels every slap of his palm against her flesh as if they were jolts of electricity shooting straight through her core. They leave her nerves jangled.

She cries out, clenching around Cardan’s length as each blow lands. A low rumbling sound goes through him.

“You feel,” he rasps, voice frayed from restraint, “Utterly divine, my love.”

Jude moans but is unable to form a response. For all the world, she cannot think past the moony haze of her mind, nor the heavenly pressure in her belly. After a moment, she registers the slip of Cardan’s tail coming to wrap gently around her thigh. It is both a reassurance and a question.

All Jude can think to say, the only thing to pass from her lips is, “I love you.”

With that, Cardan is moving.

The first few strokes are achingly slow, dragging all the way out before plunging back in. They strike a match within her.

Soon, Cardan is building a rhythm, thrusts picking up speed. Jude’s pulse races in tandem. That heat in her core clambouring for purchase as she’s driven again and again into the floor.

Jude thinks about the burns her knees will have tomorrow, from this carpet, and a thrill runs through her.

She can hear Cardan’s labored breathing behind her, his little gasps and groans that make her toes curl. He is deliciously hers. The thought makes her tremble in her own delight.

The slapping sounds their joining makes drive her wild. Before she knows it, she can feel the steady rise of her release. Despite her better judgement, Jude cannot help but meet him thrust for thrust.

Cardan seems too far gone to notice his wife’s efforts. He grips her hips as he pounds into her, relentless.

But when Jude turns her head to look at him, he is somewhere else. And that simply will not do. No, Jude would have him here and now, in this moment.

She slows her pace. She wishes she could reach back and pull him to the present with her touch alone. But as her hands are bound, she cannot.

“Cardan,” Jude croons.

At the sound of her voice, Cardan’s eyes snap to hers. He blinks for a moment. Then, he’s slowing his rhythm, too.

“Oh, Jude,” he soughs, scooping her up into his arms so that they are both upright and kneeling, Jude straddling his lap. She leans back against his chest. “My sweet Jude.”

His hand goes to her clit, fingers working slow circles. The added stimulation brings forth plumous mewls from Jude. She rolls her hips in time with his ministrations, feeling the novelty of this angle.

It is the stuff of gods, what they are doing.

“Tell me again,” Cardan murmurs gruffly in her ear.

Jude knows precisely what he means by this. “I love you,” she says, swirling herself over him. He thrums into her neck, nips at her earlobes. His hips begin to buck of their own accord, rutting up to meet the tidal wave of her movements.

Over and over, she tells him. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” His mouth covers hers in a searing kiss. “I love you so much that sometimes I can hardly think of anything else.”

“Gods above,” Cardan groans and, splaying his free hand on her belly, he pushes them forward once more. He’s pounding into her, fingers flying in circles over her clit until she is all sensation. Until she is screaming.

Jude is being cleaved apart. She is trembling on high. Just as it seems her wave of pleasure will rise and rise forever, finally, it breaks.

Jude cries out her release, a jumble of “I love you’s” and Cardan’s name, echoing around the Royal Chambers as she writhes beneath him.

And with that, Cardan tips over the edge, too. With a final slam, he spills into her, shouting a string of words. Her name. Only her name. Over and over against the back of her neck like a curse as he comes.

Jude is still pulsing, shaking in the aftermath when Cardan loops his arms around her waist. He brings them both to rest on their sides, not caring at all that they are on the floor. Cardan tucks Jude into his chest.

He pulls her wrists into his hands and begins unravelling the red ribbon that binds them. Jude, for her part, feels both heavy and as if she could float away on a fog.

“Jude?” Cardan’s voice sounds from behind her.

“Hmm?” She can barely muster the energy open her lids.

“Are you aware how much I love you?”

“ ‘Course I am,” she mumbles.

Cardan looses a soft chuckle. “Liar.”

Jude’s grin is so wide, she’s sure all of Elfhame can see it.

☽☽☽☽☽

AN: So this was… much softer than I intended 😅 but I really hope you enjoyed it! I had so much fun writing this one. This is just the first of a few works I’m putting out this week for Jurdan Smut Week, so look out for those.

As always, if you have any kind comments, please do share them with me. I’m terrible at responding in a timely fashion, but I will respond to every single one. They absolutely make my day and ultimately encourage me to keep writing.

If you liked this, and would like to be added to my tag list, let me know!

Back to the forest now!

-Em 🖤💫

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Title Inspo: Holy by King Princess

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diavolodigitale · 3 years

Text

L’appel Du Vide: 00 Despicable Him

It took me a whole goddamn year to finally win the fight I fought against myself and start posting this story. I have 7 complete chapters written already but now cannot seem to find the strength to continue, so I was hoping releasing it into the world would give me a nice boost. Anyway, my friends enjoyed the story so if in reality it turns out to be bad, it’s obviously their fault, not mine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Rhys is the CEO of Atlas and Jack's AI is back, surprise, surprise! Now Rhys is dismayed, Jack doesn't care much, and the events of Borderlands 3 are just beginning to unravel. Is there any way to fix the plot of this game? Would it be any better if Rhys had to cooperate with Jack this whole time? Well, this is your chance to find out!

Spoiler: yes, dammit, it would. Everything's better with a bit of Handsome Jack in it.

Genres: Fix-It, Developing Relationship, Alternate Canon, POV Third Person, Humor, Drama, Plot-driven (kind of? well, it has plot)

Pairing: Handsome Jack’s AI/Rhys (this is only the 1st chapter so don’t expect much yet)

Characters: Handsome Jack’s AI, Rhys

Rating: M for Mature but not in this chapter lol

Size: around 2500 words (chapter 1/11)

Rhys’s office was great. He liked to sit in his big executive’s chair and dreamily look outside instead of doing the paper work. The view was also great. Well, kind of.

What did not seem so great, however, was the war he had been recently dragged into by the Maliwan corporation. He didn’t like being involuntarily involved into global affairs, especially those that had something to do with fusions or takeovers. The situation his company was in was bothering him at the moment, so he took a deep thoughtful breath and continued staring into the window.

“Hey, kiddo,” said the voice of somebody who definitely could not be in Rhys’s office neither at this given moment nor at any other time. Rhys was almost sure in his sanity so he proceeded to ignore the not-uttered words, although he, for some unknown reason, became visibly shaken.

“He-e-ey,” said the voice with those familiar little notes of annoyance that would let the hearer know that the person speaking clearly didn’t like being ignored.

A half-transparent blue hand waved in front of Rhys’s face, and he totally lost it.

Still somehow managing to remain seated in his chair, Rhys jerked back and rolled right through the blue figure formerly standing behind him.

“Wha…” muttered Rhys, barely able to speak at all, “Jack? What are you… I mean, how… I mean, is that really you?”

“Calm down, Rhysie,” said Jack with the same smug expression on his face – perhaps, the only thing that was unchangeable apart from his self-confidence, principles, self-esteem, disrespect for the others, sly nature, and, well, many, many other things really. “I get it, you’re happy to see me, but gosh, have some self-respect!”

Rhys was still confused, so after a few seconds of silence Jack felt the need to add, “Of course, it’s me”.

“But I thought you’re…”

“Dead? Gone? Dead and gone?” Jack clicked his tongue three times. “I thought, you knew me better, Rhysie. I thought, you’d welcome me with your arms wide open. Are you not happy to see me?”

“I am,” Rhys started nodding zealously and clenched his fists tight, hoping that Jack wouldn’t notice he was shaken. “But I don’t understand. What happened…”

“What happened was a mistake. I was gone for a while, but now I’m here to stay.” Jack leaned towards Rhys’s face and smiled. It was in no way an amiable smile. His glowing eyes reminded those of a vulture watching his prey. He already started to smell fear in the air.

“And where exactly is here?” asked Rhys with the last glimmer of hope fading from his voice. More than anything now he wished for the story not to repeat itself, but it was not like he had a choice or something.

Jack only tapped on Rhys’s temple with his index finger and leaned back. Rhys didn’t feel the touch but the gesture itself made him uncomfortable. He knew what it meant, unfortunately.

Jack jumped onto the table of the CEO of Atlas and crossed his legs and arms, waiting.

Rhys swallowed loudly. This was not great at all. He was sure his head was clear from this phantom and there was nothing to worry about. He was sure he would never again be convinced to go against his nature and pursue the world domination. Or any kind of domination. He was sure, but whenever it came to Jack, he was a defeatist.

“This can’t be true. I don’t believe you came back. I must’ve hit my head or I’m just seeing things…” Rhys’s voice quavered in disbelief when he spoke.

“Now-now, honey, no need to worry so much. You know I don’t like it when you wince, it makes you look older. Seeing me here must make you feel sorry for what you’ve done, but you should know that I don’t hold any grudge. Actually, I’m kida proud of you, you know. It only proves I was right all along,” said Jack roguishly. His manner of speech made his words sound benign, as if he was forgiving sins during the confession. Rhys was still not buying it.

“I did what I had to, what you made me do! If anything, it was YOUR fault, YOU betrayed me, so don’t you try making ME responsible for everything! I don’t know what kind of mind game this is, but I know you can’t be here.”

As Jack opened his mouth to yet again say something pricky, Rhys, still sitting in his chair and tightly gripping its arms, yelled at top of his lungs, “Begone! Begone, foul apparition!”.

The apparition sat on the table, sandbagged and with a dropped jaw, for a few moments and then uttered “Wow. Just wow. I’ve always known you’re weird, but this is just… wow. Are you on drugs or something? I’m not judging, you just seem really… deranged? I wanna say deranged, but I’m not sure it’s the right word.”

Rhys snuffled resentfully and looked at Jack with a brooding expression on his face. “You won’t go?” he asked, not really hoping anymore.

“Nope, kiddo. Everything’s gonna be just like the good old times – me as a hero and you as a… as a… I dunno, a less attractive sidekick?” Rhys quietly sighed, holding his head in his hands. “We’re gonna hang out, kill bandits, save the world, and I will always, always be at your side. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I killed you, Jack. I destroyed you. I ripped you out of my body, tore you apart and threw you away from my memory. Nothing’s gonna be the same anymore, you know that.”

“No, Rhys, I was killed by some OTHER goddamn crappy bags of… ugh, I’m not even gonna bother with that. You and me just had a misunderstanding. Often happens between two forceful promising personalities, like between me and the previous Hyperion CEO. Oh, wait, no,”–Jack scratched his head and furrowed his eyebrows–“no, I killed him, that’s a bad example. Anyway, you know what I mean.”

“I smashed my fucking arm to get rid of you! You,”–Rhys pointed his cybernetic finger at Jack–“are the only one who is insane here if you think that’s nothing. We both know what we did, Jack. Whatever you want, I’m not helping you. The last time I tried, you took control of me and tried to end my life.”

Jack’s expression turned from stolid to menacing as fast as gray clouds cover the sun and it starts raining in summer. He wanted to be good, he really believed that he did.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” he hissed at Rhys. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want me to. No matter how much I don’t want to admit it, I’m dependent on you, you little whiny coward, so do me a favor – be a good boy and listen to what daddy has to say. You kept your eye implant, didn’t you? Don’t even try arguing with me, I know you did. It was your decision to leave it be, so it’s you who brought me here. I’m grateful for that and I promise not to be nasty. No taking over bodies and no homicidal tendencies. Well, at least when it comes to you, pumpkin.”

“…Okay,” fumbled Rhys. Even though he didn’t believe this was really the case, he knew disputing with Jack never solved anything anyway. “Although… I didn’t really use the chip afterwards. I don’t know how you’ve found out I had kept it, but I surely wasn’t that stupid so as to put it back into my head after what you had done. I really want to know how you’ve managed to–”

“We all have our secrets, Rhysie. But enough about me, let’s talk about you.” Jack gave Rhys a wink. “How’ve ya been? Must admit, I fell out of the loop and now need an update,” he said petulantly. Now he was idly looking around as if he had lost all interest in what was happening.

Rhys decided to let go of his worries for now. If he couldn’t make Jack talk, his only option was to gain his trust once again and find out how he survived. Or if he did at all. Just be composed, not the worst scenario you’ve ever been in, he said to himself.

“Um, actually, I’m great. This is my office and… We’re doing fantastically if you disregard the fact that we’re at war with Maliwan and currently I am occupied with this new–”

“Yeah-yeah, okay, what was there about a war? I don’t remember Maliwan scum being at least somehow dangerous. How did you even manage to mess this up?”

Rhys stood up from his huge chair, arms akimbo, eyes disdainfully narrowed, and went on with his story, affronted and even a little peevish.

“As I was saying, I’m working on a new plan right now. At this point I’m pretty fed up with Katagawa, this new CEO of Maliwan,”–definitely peevish right now–“Oh, in fact, I just hate him so much!”–now even irate–“The day he murdered all his siblings, he just mobilized his fleet and went straight to my planet! Who in the right mind does that? Could’ve sent a message at least. Anyway,”–Rhys hid his hands into his pockets and sunk back into his chair, having lost all his righteous anger–“he wants our corporations to merge, to fuse, as he says, to become one.” The irritation on Jack’s face was becoming more distinct with every word Rhys said. “He wants me to sign the deal and share my developments with him, can you believe it? That greedy bastard!”

“Proposals like that don’t just come out of nowhere. Seems like he’s been watching you. This Katagawa guy, what does he offer you in return? Money, contacts, tech?”

“Himself, I guess,” said Rhys without any second thought.

“What?” asked Jack contemptuously. He was already close to seeing red. Rhys forgot how it worked with him.

“He said we would become partners, but I think it’s all lies to make it seem pretty. I suspect he will simply take control of Atlas and our new shiny guns, and all my work will be wasted.”

“I see, no one can trick our Rhysie,” said Jack, grinning. “Thank god, at least some good news.”

“That’s right!” said Rhys, perhaps, more enthusiastically than he should have. “No one,” he added more quietly. Except for you, you snake, muttered the inner voice inside his head.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something this whole time. Funny how I really haven’t been here for long, but you know. May I?”

Jack’s incisive manner of speech was absent, so Rhys took his guard down for a moment, getting the feeling that this conversation was like one of those they used to have before – unbraced and at times even innocuous.

“I know what’s on your mind, Jack,” he said, heartfelt and certain.

“You do?” Jack undoubtfully seemed surprised at his interlocutor’s insight.

“Yes. I’ve noticed how you look at me and I know exactly what you want to ask.” Rhys made himself more comfortable in the chair, crossed his legs and sat straight, in a more business-like manner. “This,”–he made a vague hand gesture around the area of his mouth–“is a siege mustache. Shh, let me finish, you can’t say anything I haven’t heard about it before. My troops love it, and as a good commander, I do what I can to boost morale on the battlefield. Of course, I don’t go out there, but they are happy enough when they see my hologram. A-a-and, now you can talk. I guess. If you want to. By the way, I don’t care if you hate it, it’s my face so–”

“You know what? I love it. Love it. Never thought I would say that, but I am saying it right now, so here you are. The second rule of a successful boss – do what the fuck you wanna do with your face. The first one is murder the previous boss, of course.”

“Really?” gingerly asked Rhys, who, in reality, had never heard anything good about his poor moustache.

“Really. But I must upset you, Rhysie. This is not what was bothering me. You see, there’s this other little thing, pretty close in its significance to your moustache.”

“Oh,” uttered Rhys nonchalantly, “what is it?”

“Hyperion. What’s with it? What’s with MY Hyperion, Rhysie?”

At the sound of that very word Rhys hunched in his chair and felt as if he was reducing in size under Jack’s cold gaze.

“After what had happened… the Helios was destroyed and everything collapsed and…”

Rhys sat silent, not able to go on, and this was the last thing he should’ve done. Jack was not in the mood for such a behavior.

“Look me square in my fucking translucent eyes, Rhys, and tell me – what is with my Hyperion?” yelled Jack.

He still sat on the table quite far from Rhys, but it seemed like the room suddenly shrunk and he was right in front of him. Jack was a ghost, a phantom, not able to do anything, not able to inflict any damage or even touch him, but Rhys sensed the danger. No matter in what form, Handsome Jack was still Handsome Jack.

“I don’t know. I guess, somebody took control of it after I left. The weapons are still being manufactured, but I didn’t bother to find out who was the next in line after Helios was… after I destroyed Helios.”

Rhys exhaled loudly and averted his eyes from Jack. Oh, yes, making Jack angry is much easier than making him proud, how could I forget, he thought.

“I see. I didn’t doubt for a second you would do that to infuriate me. Believe it or not, this is the first time I’d rather be disappointed. But you know what? It doesn’t matter now. Now we’re bonding,” Jack sucked the air through his teeth, “now we’re rebuilding what was destroyed like a family we are. Isn’t that great? Look at us, two best buddies exchanging the latest news.”

“And you promised not to be nasty this time...?” Rhys made a feeble attempt to save himself and remind Jack about the terms under which he was allowed to accompany him.

“Yes, Rhysie, and you know damn well I keep my promises.”

And he did. But only when he promised to kill somebody.

#Borderlands #Borderlands 3 #Tales from the Borderlands #Handsome Jack #Handsome Jack's AI #Rhys #rhys strongfork #Handsome Jack x Rhys #fiction #fanfiction #fix-it #alternate canon #drama #humor #romance #L’appel Du Vide story

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httpbread · 4 years

Note

So we know that (male) Akane doesn’t like supernaturals... how about we disregard his absolute devotion to Aoi and slowly make him realize he’s falling for a supernatural? Hcs or scenario is up to you, thank you! :)

Second Request:

Pairing: Akane x reader

Words: 5617

Hey! I really hope you don’t mind but I thought these two requests went well together so I combined them xx

—

“Kako-san~!”

Akane wanted to slam his head into the wall the split second he heard that familair voice.

That didn’t matter though.

No matter how hard he pleaded and begged, the old man still wouldn’t ban them from the domain.

But maybe… just maybe… if he hit his head hard enough, he could knock himself out, and he wouldn’t have to listen to their stupid voice. If he was lucky, he’d be knocked out for their whole visit.

Akane quickly realized his only luck had been spent when they thankfully sauntered past him.

“Yes, (Y/n)?” The old man croaks, not even peering under his hood, the rock of his ever creaky chair never faltering.

The invasive school mystery comes to a stop before his superior, “Any chance you’re in the mood for favors…?”

Sounds like someone was in trouble.

Serves them right…

Not that (Y/n) was ever free from trouble, as they were the definition of catastrophe all by themself.

However, their hobbies were no help to them.

Mystery no. 8, the gambling spirit, depending on the poor sap who has wandered upon the heathen, the stakes were different every time. From what he had seen, (Y/n) often based the gambles off of the individual’s desires, but whether they were the deeper ones they could get their grubby paws on or lighter ones depended on the spirit’s mood.

While one time he had watched them gamble a girl into the ground for a month’s supply of juice boxes…

He had also watched them gamble with their very life and everything they owned.

In that gamble, the student had lost, leaving everything they had to the school mystery, only for no. 8 to simply dismiss them.

While he often found them agitating just because of their sly personality, what was most annoying about them was how difficult they were to read.

Some days, they gambled with an iron fist, easily driving the most skilled players to the end of their wits and putting them down without even batting a lash.

Other times, he’d watched them lose games as simple as old maid.

Sometimes, he would think they’d do it on purpose, but other times he wasn’t so sure. They never seemed to care, high stakes, low stakes, they could both lose and win at either like no other.

They made no sense to him, which was another reason he tried to avoid them.

“Awe, come on, Kako-san, can’t we flip a coin? Heads, you help me. Tails, I clean your domain top to bottom.”

They’re on their knees before his superior, cupping their cheeks and batting their lashes up at the old man.

Again, he also avoided them due to their… personality…

“We have Akane do that already.”

“Yeah, but Akane doesn’t have a little problem he needs to solve! (N/n) here does,” they whine out, trying to make puppy-er eyes at the old man.

For such a deceitful creature, their appearance suited their needs quite well.

Big unsuspecting (e/c) eyes framed by long lashes. Plenty squish-able cheeks. A nice nose. Pouty soft lips. A tousled head of (H/l) (h/c) locks, framing their charming looks perfectly. Smooth hands covered in cute bandaids, making them look a little clumsy.

Angelic, was how Akane would describe them.

That is if he didn’t know them.

He knew full well that they used their innocent looks to their advantage, looping players into their web.

In a way…

He almost found it impressive.

They used every little thing they could get their hands on to their advantage.

However, that didn’t change the fact they were a demon dressed up like a cutesy student.

“Is it really wise to add another gamble to the one you already lost? What if you lose this one too, what will you do then?”

“They’re a gambling addict, Kako. I don’t think that matters to them.”

(E/c) eyes catch him, making him wish he never spoke.

“Addict?” They echo, tilting their head, an ever wicked smile upturning the corners of their lips, “Akane-kun, you wound me!”

Yet, they turn back to Kako.

“If I acknowledge my addiction will you gamble with me?” They ask immediately, cheery voice dropping to a more serious note.

Kako only rocks, gazing down at them for a long time.

Eventually, he mutters out.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re really as inept as you act.”

This was not very reassuring to Akane’s own thoughts.

He didn’t know much about their relationship, but he knows (Y/n) and Kako had been friends for a great many years.

(Y/n) often popped into their domain to see if he was up for a gamble, usually giving up after a while and ends up playing more baby-ish card games with Mirai, who unlike Akane, was always delighted to see the spirit in their domain.

“Ohh! A mystery bet, huh?”

The glitter dancing in the (h/c) haired spirit’s eyes was far from a good omen.

Mystery bet? What was that about?“

"Which will it be, Kako-san?”

Abruptly, a coin shot high into the air above, the dim candlelight of the room kissing it.

(Y/n) held their palm out flat to the old man, extending him an all too familiar grin as well.

“Heads or tails?”

Akane blinks when the old man’s hand suddenly slaps down atop their much smaller one, surely before the coin could even land.

“Heads,” he mutters passively as if he hadn’t nearly lunged at the spirit, who looked just as unfazed.

Akane wonders if they had done this before.

“That means I’m tails,” (Y/n) clarifies, intense gaze holding the old man unwaveringly.

For a moment, they hold this silent, strange staring contest.

“Are you sure you don’t want to clarify the stakes?”

At this, Kako chuckles quietly, “Worried, (Y/n)?”

“‘Course not,” they comment, still smiling, looking almost amused at the prospect, “I’ve already won, Kako-san. Gambling with you is always a delight.”

“Then you’ll be happier to know you won the gamble as well.”

They blink at this, looking down as Kako removes his hand-

And sure enough.

Laying in the flat of their palm, the coin sits, tails side up.

“Oh!” Their face lights up like a firework on the Fourth of July, exploding with delight as they close their fingers around their coin.

Kako leans back, settling more comfortably into his rocking chair once again as the spirit cheerfully slips their coin into the pocket of their blazer.

“So?” They chirp, chipper as ever, “What do I win? Will you help me now?”

Geez. They really were hopeless, weren’t they?

“Nope.”

They deflate, dramatic as ever as they pout at Kako, “All that, and I still lost?”

“I didn’t say that,” the old man smiles, beginning to rock again, “I just happen to be too busy with my own work as of the moment. My apologies.”

Akane hastily looks away as Kako’s eyes find him.

Maybe if he pretended he wasn’t paying attention he would be safe.

“Which is why I will send Akane to help solve your problem.”

Except, no amount of playing pretend would save him from the knife lodging in his back.

The bright-eyed fiend instantly turns to blink at him.

He glares back at them, hoping they’ll catch a hint that he’d make their life a living hell if they took Kako up on his offer.

However, they turn and wail, “Kako-san! How is he supposed to help me?! He only stops time- and I need time to turn back!”

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself, (Y/n). You have my best wishes in your endeavor.”

He’s surprised at the conflicted look he spied dancing on the spirit’s features.

It looks genuine.

However, they relented with a sigh.

“Thank you, Kako-san…”

Wait, no-

“Of course, (Y/n),” he addresses the heathen, before gesturing for him, “As for you, boy, you’ll be helping (Y/n) for the next two days.”

He looks over at (Y/n) again, who’s clearly sulking, “Two days, right?”

“No. Just tomorrow, I guess,” they sigh again.

Kako nods, “One day, Akane.”

Even just one day… serving (Y/n)…

Maybe if he hit his head hard enough against the wall he could knock himself into a short coma instead.

The next morning, when he arrived early to school, normally ready to head to the student council room, he found himself reluctantly trudging past it.

Down the hall.

To the oldest classroom in this wing.

Once the gambling club’s room many years ago, now turned into the debate club’s headquarters.

However, the person who spent the most time there had no such interest in arguments.

He slid the door open.

They sat in the middle of the room, a solitaire game before them, eyes snapping up to find his.

They look surprised to see him.

“Akane-kun?” They utter, lowering the card in their colorful bandaid plastered hand.

They look confused, and a little worried to see him.

“Is something wrong?”

He wants to scream.

He does not.

“Idiot. Don’t you remember Kako’s deal?”

They blink at him.

Once.

Then twice.

“Oh!” A big smile finds their face, “Come in, come in!”

Now he wishes he never spoke. Maybe he could have lied and said Kako changed his mind. That Kako needed him for something today.

But no.

No, instead, he’d gotten himself further stuck with heathen number eight.

He reluctantly shuts the door behind him, shrugging out of his bag and setting it beside the door, watching as (Y/n) lifts their card back up.

They study it for a moment, before settling it into one of the rows.

Before promptly moving the whole row to another, different row, before flipping the last card over in that row.

Really? They were still playing cards?

They didn’t look nearly as worried as they had yesterday about whatever problem they had to deal with.

In fact, their pretty face looked almost peaceful as they picked up a new card.

They really were so beautiful when they didn’t open their big mouth. He was almost certain if their personality was any sense of vaguely tolerable they could have anyone falling for them.

Yet, as far as Akane knew, they never had anyone kissing their shoes in that aspect.

He sits down in front of them, their worn, faded cards sitting on the floor between them.

They glance up at him briefly, before drawing another card.

“Isn’t it early?” They set it down under a three of hearts, “You don’t have to be here yet.”

He shakes his head.

“Don’t patronize me,” he huffs, flashing them a narrowed look which they don’t even look up to acknowledge, “My orders are to serve you all day.”

They only nod, seeming a little absent as they pluck another card from the dwindling deck, “Ah.”

That’s all they say.

‘Ah’.

He finds himself staring.

What demon crawled up from hell and dragged his (Y/n) back where they belonged?

Because this quiet creature was not the eighth mystery he’d come to know and loathe.

“Just what is your malfunction?” The question slips off his scandalized tongue before he can filter it out.

The spirit looks up, (e/c) eyes a little round.

For that split second, they seem to forget themself.

Before they’re quickly grinning at him.

“Malfunction?” They echo, “What, do you want me to give you a shitty errand list or something?”

Akane squints at them.

Despite their suddenly chipper tone and their big smile…

Something is off.

He can feel it.

“Not particularly.”

“Then why don’t you do some school work or something until class?” They suggest, looking back down at their cards, “I’m busy.”

Akane’s mouth nearly drops open.

They weren’t even going to try and annoy him?

“Better yet.”

They suddenly swipe their hand along with their unfinished game, scattering it.

Their forced smile has vanished.

“You’re dismissed. I won’t be needing your help today.”

Akane never thought he’d see the day where he’d hear something like that coming from (Y/n)’s mouth.

He always pictured them grinning, with little red horns and a pitchfork, cackling with their innocent laugh as they poked and prodded him. Taunting. Teasing.

This wasn’t like (Y/n) at all.

“I don’t think so,” he pushes to his feet just as they rise to their feet.

They blink at him, looking down at his outwards arms, blocking their escape.

“I don’t know what your stupid problem is, but if you don’t start acting right, I’ll tear this whole school apart until its fixed.”

Sure, he couldn’t stand mystery number eight.

But he sure as well wasn’t going to stand this sad excuse for the eighth mystery.

“Hah?” Their brows are drawn, the spirit looking at him like he’s gone crazy.

And maybe he has.

“You heard me,” he huffs, unfaltering in his demand, “I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.”

Their eyes widened a smidgen.

But his eyes are more interested in the darling pink color dusting the bridge of their nose, along their soft cheeks.

“You can’t help me!” They utter, sounding scandalized, very firmly crossing their arms as they face him, adding, “Not that I need it.”

He reaches forward, flicking their cheek, “I wasn’t asking.”

They bat his hand away, offering him a sour look, “I don’t care. Aren’t you supposed to be my servant to something today?”

At this, a funny thought crosses his mind.

Making a smile curve at his lips.

“The old man only said I had to help you for the day. Not that I had to listen to you.”

They look a little stunned but very crossed at this statement.

Akane wondered if he could get back at the mystery with this loophole.

Two birds with one stone.

Solve whatever was bothering the gambler and maybe knock them off their game in the process.

At lunchtime, he found them outside, sitting at the fountain.

A flashy coin darted between their hands.

For a moment, he didn’t approach them as planned, watching idly.

The coin moved with an unforgiving pace, flashing between their skillful plaster covered hands for a couple of seconds before shooting up into their air.

When it fell back in range, it would shoot back and forth a couple more times, before flipping airborne again.

Yet, despite the coin tricks, (Y/n)’s mind was clearly elsewhere, a flummoxed look marking their features, putting a draw in their brows and a distant look in their eyes, pressing their lips together.

“(Y/n)?”

The coin flies out of their hands, their shoulders jumping.

“Oi! Don’t sneak up on people!” They bark, hastily turning to glower up at him.

The heathen looks at him for a moment longer, making their distaste clear, before grumbling under their breath, twisting around to scan their narrowed eyes along the water behind them.

They lift a hand, ready to plunge it into the water.

Only to have it pushed away as he finds a seat next to them.

“You’re going to ruin your bandages if you keep doing that.”

He takes their hand in his dry one, flipping it over to drop a new quarter in their smaller softer hand after he has dried it on his sweater.

When he releases their hand, he looks away, shaking out his now wet one.

Only to glimpse at their rosy face.

“What?”

He has to remind himself that there’s a demon under that pretty face of theirs and that he shouldn’t be fooled by their adorable blush and wide-eyed looks.

“Nothing.”

His eyes flicker down at the flash of movement, watching at the coin flips along their knuckles.

They’re back to fidgeting again.

He almost sighs.

“So, (Y/n),”

They don’t say anything, looking off again, coin only picking up speed.

“Why did you need Kako again?” He asks, despite knowing they would sooner die again than answer him, judging by the way they’ve been acting all day, “You said you wanted to turn back time, right?”

Accordingly, they don’t respond.

“Why?”

Nor do they respond to this, the coin suddenly shooting up into the air again.

He tries a different question.

“Is the reason why you needed Kako the same thing that’s got you all wound up?”

But the spirit remains silent, stubbornly refusing his gaze as the coin flickers between their palms again, before rolling across the knuckles of their left hand.

The coin is then in the air again.

“(Y/n).”

Then flickering again.

“(L/n) (Y/n).”

Up in the air.

But this time…

Before it hits their hands again…

He heatedly snatches it, swiping it with both his hands curling into fists, for arms making an ‘x’ as he glares at them.

They stare at him.

“My coin…”

He holds their gaze firmly.

If they wouldn’t answer his questions the easy way, they would do this the hard way.

“Which hand?”

They blink.

Quieted for a moment with confusion.

“Hah?” Their face then screws up, even more confused.

“I said pick a hand.”

He stares them down unwaveringly.

They gaze back.

“Pick the one with the coin and you can have it back,” He says lightly, “I’ll even leave you alone for the rest of the day.”

They quickly lift a finger.

“Pick the wrong one and you’ll tell me everything.”

They quickly lower the finger.

“What kind of game is that?” They scowl at him, not looking the slightest bit happy with these odds.

Akane isn’t sure when he last smiled so hard.

“What? Has the notorious number eight finally found a gamble they wouldn’t take?” He teases, leaning forward to further observe the displeased look on their face.

He wasn’t ever one to turn opportunity down when it came knocking at his door.

“Bastard!” They hiss instantly at his words, stirring a laugh from his lips.

As he chuckles, he relents to their claws as they hastily open his right hand.

But Akane knows they won’t find what they’re looking for.

They’re quiet in their dismay, poker face failing them as they stare down at his empty palm.

“Wh-What?” They quickly run their fingers across his help, “That can’t be! I saw you catch it!”

“How unfortunate,” he coos, lowering his hands.

He had to admit, they had a good eye.

But shouldn’t a gambler have a better eye for tricks?

Had they just flipped that hand over, they would’ve seen the coin they were looking for, slotted just between his fingers.

He leans back on his hands, discreetly placing the coin behind him as he retorts.

“Start talking, number eight.”

They look at him for a moment, indignation dancing in their eyes, written all over their pretty face.

“Fine,” they utter after a moment, (e/c) eyes narrowing at him, “You won.”

However, they’re then pulling a coin from the pocket of their blazer.

He almost distracts them by asking why the hell they were fishing them out of the fountain if they already had one, but he then recognizes it.

It was the gold one they always kept on them, the one they used for coin tosses, already passing back and forth between their hands like before.

“Do you know the biggest rule about my mystery?”

He looks up from their capable hands, but they’re gazing out into the garden.

“Never not be a demon?” He tilts his head.

He earns himself a scathing glance.

“No!” They huff, looking away from him again, “The law of my boundary is that I can’t turn down a bet!”

This is foreign to his ears.

“Okay, I’m a little flattered you didn’t know that,” they catch his surprise, “But you should also know that’s my own folly.”

Of course it was.

“What does that have to do with the problem then?” He asks, leaning back on one hand for a moment, pushing his glasses back up and back on his head to be more comfortable.

As he leans back on his hands again, they continue, “Because yesterday a boy came in with a bet I would have turned down if I could.”

His eyes are immediately fluttering back open though.

He sits up, not even blinking as his glasses are knocked off his head, taking a swan dive into the fountain.

(Y/n) is a different story, “Wh- Akane!”

But as they lunge forward, he hastily grabs their hand before it can hit the water, once again, a more pressing issue occupying his current thoughts.

“What did you bet?”

He hadn’t realized he’d come across so firmly until those owlish eyes found his.

Before quickly averting.

Their face is growing red, “I-I mean, it’s not that bad! Not at all! I just- well- uhm

Subconsciously, he trails his thumb along the bandaids littering their lithe fingers.

"Then what is it?”

They’re silent, avoiding his watchful gaze.

But how is he supposed to look away? The sweet rosy look on their face… It’s bewitching. Uncommon, for sure.

Plus, when would he get the chance to see the infamous mystery eight looking so embarrassed any other time?

But they’re mumbling something, and he can’t hear.

“You’re going to have to speak-”

“I lost and now I owe some guy a kiss!”

For a moment, he’s lost in their determined, flustered expression, not even properly realizing their outburst.

“A kiss? What’s so-”

His mutter comes to a stop instantly.

(Y/n) gazes up at him, the coin flickering across the knuckles of their free hand.

“A kiss?” He echoes, clarifying.

They nod.

“Pretty stupid to get all bent out of shape about, huh?” They murmur, a small rueful smile wavering on their lips.

His eyes narrow.

“Your first kiss?”

Three words and their face was growing hot again.

“Maybe!” They try to rebuttal, but a one-word argument was almost always bound to lose.

Except for this time, he supposes, judging by the bell ringing in his ears.

“By when?”

They blink.

“I think I’m supposed to meet him in my domain… after school today, I mean.”

He nods, looking down at their hand, still trapped in his.

Releasing it, he turns the fountain muttering, “Okay.”

They sit there, stunned as he reaches into the fountain, grabbing his glasses, before getting to his feet.

As he shakes them out, he tells them.

“I’ll see you then.”

“Akane-kun?”

Aoi’s voice barely pulls him from his racing thoughts.

He turns to find his friend gazing at him curiously, her tilted head propped up on her hand.

“What’s wrong?” He says, brows drawing.

However, Aoi only smiles at this.

“If you were listening,” she teases lightly, “You’d know I asked first.”

Him?

“Nothing at all,” he’s further confused, “Sorry.”

“I’ll accept…”

She leans forward, smiling with mischief.

“Only if you tell me what girl you’re thinking about."’

He wasn’t thinking about a girl, though.

No, instead, he was thinking of a boy.

He was thinking hard, trying to figure out which specific boy was asking for a bat to the face and a kiss from a particular ghost.

"I would if there was one, Ao-chan.”

But was there?

He guessed if you connect the dots of his wandering mind they did lead back to that idiot…

But still, that wasn’t like…

Sure, okay, he had kind of been thinking about her, but not in that way. Not the way Aoi, his childhood crush, was asking!

“Are you sure~?”

He blinks, looking up at her, who smirks a little at him.

Well, it’s not like he could lie to her.

“Not really…”

He watches as she draws a delicate hand up, burying a quiet giggle into it.

He makes a face, “Don’t laugh!”

“Oh? We’re laughing?”

“No, we’re not, no one is laughing,” he tells Yashiro firmly.

“Akane-kun has a new crush!” Aoi beams as she whisper-yells to the girl sitting behind him.

He looks at her, scandalized, “I do not!”

“Oh my gosh, Akane-kun! That’s great!” Yashiro whisper cheers at him, giving him two thumbs up and a big smile.

No! It wasn’t! Not that it was true but even if it was!

It. Was. Not. Great.

“Have you asked them out yet?” Aoi asks.

“Oh! If only the confession tree was still around,” Yashiro adds, “But what about the roof?”

“Too popular,” Aoi dismisses, “What about the garden?”

Akane is reeling, listening to their planning of his apparent confession to a ghost, unable to even speak.

“What about a love letter in their desk?”

“Oh? Maybe chocolates or something in their locker. They might like that.”

“Or flowers!”

“Oh! I’ve been growing some really pretty ones in the garden. I’d be happy to make you a bouquet, Akane-kun!”

However, the bell cuts through the madness.

For a moment, he forgets himself.

He’d been waiting for the bell.

But-

Fuck!

Akane launched to his feet, “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Huh? But what about your confession-”

But he’s already making his way off.

“Uhm- Akane-kun! What about your stuff?”

There’s no time!

“Akane-kun?!”

Three flights of stairs, seven halls, and two occasions of him just about tripping over his own feet-

The debate room finally came into view.

He didn’t hesitate for a single moment, nearly tearing the door right from the wall.

However, what he was expecting, sure as hell wasn’t what was staring back at him.

“Uhm.”

A boy speaks up, but Akane doesn’t think he’s the one who needs his fist in the face, “Can we help you?”

He slams the door shut.

Damn it!

For someone who could stop time, he sure as hell didn’t have time for this!

Why the hell was the debate club in the debate club room after school?

Where was (Y/n)?

And more importantly- where was the dead man who was probably kissing them right now?!

(Y/n) had probably dropped their coin seven times now.

“Are you ready now?”

“N-no. Give me a minute!” They hiss at the eager boy with the messy blue locks.

But the coin hits their lap again.

They couldn’t do it!

They couldn’t

Hell- they could hardly even flip a stupid coin right with their shaky hands- it would be like pulling a bar and new coin trick out of thin air!

And they were meant to just-

Meant to-

They were meant to-

They couldn’t even fathom it!

Give this boy, this cocky no-name guy-

Well, okay, he probably said his name at some point, they just didn’t listen very well, but still!

How the hell were they supposed to kiss this- this-

This absolute stranger!

They snatched up their coin.

It felt cold in their clammy hands.

Geez, they were getting way too worked up about this

They genuinely wished Akane was there. Of course, he made them nervous too, and he had a habit of making a mockery of their poker face, but they at least liked him!

Wait- no, not like that.

He just made them nervous in a good way!

Not like this, not in a way that made them feel like they’d throw up the butterflies racing around in their stomach.

An unwelcome hand finds their shoulder.

“Oh come on, I don’t have all day, you know.”

They choke down an angry retort.

“I know! But wait- just- uh, gotta wait for the right moment, yeah?” They flash him a fake smile, trying to cover up their feelings.

This was no good.

At this rate, they really might barf!

(Y/n) couldn’t even remember the last time they were this nervous. They weren’t even this nervous when they died!

But this boy- he’s taking their face in their hands.

“You don’t wait for the moment,” he argues, frowning at them in annoyance, “You make the moment.”

Their eyes widen harshly as he suddenly leans forward.

However, they’re hastily ripping away from him at the harsh slam that greets them.

Their eyes find an unfamiliar sight.

“A-Akane-kun?!”

His face is painted red, his hairs a tousled mess, and his glasses nowhere to be seen.

He’s panting, leaning against the door like he might pass out at any second.

“Oi, but off, vice,” the boy next to them scoffs, offering their fellow mystery a double thumbs-up, except, with their middle fingers instead, “We’re busy here!”

“The hell you are!” Akane huffs, voice sounding rough as he shoves away from the door, slouching a little with exhaustion as he marches their way.

(Y/n) can only watch in pure shock as Akane yanks the boy up by his collar.

They almost believe he’s going to put his fist through the poor sap’s skull.

Until their mouth drops open, watching as their friend slams his lips against the boy’s pair, who yelps instantly, jerking away like he’s been burned.

“Wh- What the fuck?!”

(Y/n) has the same question, staring up at Akane, stunned.

“You should be more specific when you gamble,” the brunet says, sucking in a breath as he begins to calm down as if everything was suddenly fine!

“Hah?!”

(Y/n) is even more stunned when Akane smirks.

“You just asked for a kiss. You should’ve made sure to say from who.”

At that moment, both horrifying and vaguely awe-inspiring…

All (Y/n) can do is stare up at the boy they know.

…

And start to laugh.

They weren’t present for the rest of the debate between the boys, too caught up in their own relief and humor.

Akane kissed someone for them!

He had kissed someone because they would have had to give away their first.

Akane had saved them, of all people, from a kiss, of all things.

Maybe they were just dizzy with relief, not in their right mind after so abruptly losing all the nervousness they had built up in their body, but they just couldn’t stop laughing, not even as the door to the roof shut, the boy they were meant to kiss long gone.

They didn’t stop giggling until their watering eyes found two shoes stopping before them.

They look up, grinning so hard their face hurts almost as much as their stomach from their laughter, only able to cheer at that moment, “Akane-kun!”

He gazes down at her, his face unreadable, but completely lacking the same humor they were suffering.

This sober them a little.

But doesn’t rid their face of their overjoyed smile as they push to their feet.

Or deter them from pulling the boy to them in a squeezing hug.

“Thank you, Akane-kun,” they tell him wholeheartedly, burying their tinge of embarrassment and their face in his chest.

“All better?” He scoffs, sour as ever with them, but the returning of their hug tells them he’s not too angry with them.

“More than better,” they reply, not wanting to move from his embrace.

It’s nice.

However, they part after a moment.

They look up at him.

He looks down at them.

“So- uh, what…”

They feel a small smile tugging at their lips again.

“What happened to your glasses this time?”

Akane blinks at this, reaching up to pay his face.

“Shit.”

“Geez, you left your stuff, your glasses, your wallet- Did you seriously drop everything just to be my knight in shining armor?”

(Y/n), in return for Akane’s help, had decided to help him looking around for said glasses, which he said he was pretty sure fell off in one of the halls on his way up to the roof.

They’re chatting the boy up absently as their eyes scan the floor, searching, “I mean, I can’t thank you enough, Prince Charming, but aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Sounds like a pretty big gamble if you ask me,” they comment, just as their eyes catch something out of the usual.

“Says you.”

“Says me!” They agree, grinning as they hastily scamper over the lockers, “The one who just found your glasses!”

They swoop down, easily plucking them from the floor.

Turning towards the windows across from the lockers, they hold them up to the sunset pouring into the hall, drenching the school in expensive shades of gold.

However, as they scan the glasses for insult to injury…

Their source of light is suddenly blocked, making them press further back against the lockers in surprise, finding a forearm next to their head, making a racket.

Akane is staring them down, chestnut eyes narrowed.

“Easy, Akane-kun,” they tease, a grin finding their features as they fold the glasses, lowering them to their chest due to the small space between them, due to the fact he was kabedonning them all of the sudden, much to their amusement as they warn, “You might kiss me next.”

“Wanna bet?” He challenges them, taking his glasses from their hands with his free one.

Thinking he’s joking, they comment.

“I’ve got a coin.”

But it becomes very apparent that (Y/n) isn’t going to need a coin for this stupid bet.

Their heart flutters, but they waste no time pulling him closer by tangling their arms around his neck, kissing him right back.

But Akane pulls back very little, breathing into the minuscule room between them.

“You’re so stupid…”

He was right.

“Maybe, but you’re the idiot who kissed that guy on the lips,” they murmur, positively smirking as they inform him, “If we were looking for loopholes, he didn’t specify the kiss was on the lips either.”

Akane huffs, “Shut up.”

(Y/n) does, promptly shutting themself up again with another heated kiss.

Gambling problem or not, at the end of the day- this day- they were very firm in the belief that all their issues were paying off.

Big time.

#akane aoi x reader #akane x reader #tbhk x reader #tbhk #jshk #jshk x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #toilet bound hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #breadkinswrites

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lilywoood · 4 years

Text

You’ve got a mail Part 3/?

Hi so after hours of debating if I should post or delete part 3 I decided that I was going to post it, I hope it’ll be as good as the sneak peek I gave you and that I didn’t make you wait too much, I hope y’all like it and don’t hesitate to hit my ask box if you want to be tagged or if you want to get more sneak peeks ♥️!

Tag list : @diazbuckleysworld @translucent-bisexual @cherishingstydia @felicitous-one @comablog2 @justsmilestuffhappens @gxtop @chrrlees @hardychick89 @jb-ap-94 @chioink @peroquenotevean @tk-carlosforlifex @nighting-gale17 @fyeahhipsterdoctor @leslilupe @anthony-e-stark-3000 @haderofthesociety @iamonlyaliveformalex @wearelosersyoudumbfuck @serena040506 @multi-fandom-writing @my-name-i-we

Words count : 1571

Song : Bang Bang - Nancy Sinatra

Sleeping was more penance than relief as he couldn’t close his eyes without being constantly haunted, tortured, reminded by how much his teammates, his family hated him, haunted by the sound of their laughs, by the impact of their insults, by the venom of their remarks.

He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop tormenting himself, couldn’t prevent his mind to play his days, all the overheard conversations, and not so discreet whispers on loop in his head, he couldn’t help but remember their faces, their snarls every time he entered a room, he couldn’t help but hear their voices… his voices, as he was told over and over again that he wasn’t needed, wanted, that it was too bad the ladder truck hadn’t crushed his whole body…

He prayed for a dreamless night, he prayed his mind to stop the self-persecution, to stop thinking about them, as they never did think about him. He wished he was bold enough to down the six pack in his fridge, the one who was calling his name every day, so that he could pass out, so that he could finally and peacefully rest but like all his nights since the lawsuit Buck found himself once again starring at his computer screen, thinking about what he would say to TK and how he could help the equally tormented Texan firefighter.

He remembered TK’s last answer, remembered how he could feel his distress, how he felt the same, he remembered how they chatted until dawn about wither they should keep fighting, should keep proving their worth, their right to be among their brothers or if they should just give up as fighting was making more miserable, he couldn’t forget the last words they exchanged that night.

From TK: My mother used to tell me that even if we’re blood related my father would never love me as much as he loves his firefighters family and that what made me want to be part of it, I wanted to be seen and loved too, I fought and for a brief time I had it, my dad love and attention, I was so happy, I felt whole until I realized that he loved firefighter TK, he only saw me when I was part of the team, outside of it I was nothing.

From Buck: I didn’t have anything outside the 118, when I got the job I was the happiest in the world, for the first time I knew what it felt to be loved, to be appreciated, my parents weren’t that great and Maddie was gone, I had no one, I just had them, after the truck incident I fought, I trained to be back with them cause I missed them but they replaced me, they taped her name over mine and they treated her even better than me and to make things worse I learned that it wasn’t the Head that didn’t want me back, it was Bobby, it felt as if maybe I wasn’t good enough for him, for them, I mean they’re all I have….

From TK: They meant more for you than what you mean for them and that what hurt the most, that why you have to move on and let them go, you can’t keep feeling miserable for people who don’t deserve you Evan.

From Buck: I know, I’m still foolishly hopping though.

TK wasn’t online that night, he didn’t have anyone to turn to, to talk to, he couldn’t bother Maddie, and even though Hen told him she was there, he couldn’t help but let the little voice convince him that she only said that to be kind, she didn’t meant it, she wasn’t expecting him to call her, confide in her, she wasn’t actually there, no one was.

Sleepless nights were becoming more and more common for him, his body grew accustomed to the lack of rest, his mind not so much, the voices were increasingly present, allowing himself to become more and more apprehensive and stressed at the sole thought of going to work the next day, what once was his home, his safe heaven, quickly became his personal hell.

He was changing himself quietly when Bobby and the rest of their team cornered him, they barely let him button his pant before barging into the locker room, all wearing their signature ‘‘we hate you’’ glare, he quickly rose himself waiting for Bobby to tell him that it was it, he was thanked, fired that they didn’t want him in this family anymore.

-So I had an interesting conversation with the Heads today, he started making Buck gulp in fear, apparently I can’t have one of my guys on light duties for more than two months, he waved dismissively, so, he sighed, as of today you’re officially back on call, he announced looking at him expectantly.

-Thank you I guess, Buck articulated not meeting his eyes, I…I won’t let you down, let any of you down, he croaked still fixing his shoes.

-I hope so Buckley, the older man retorted before turning back and leaving the room.

He waited until the footsteps vanished to let out the breath he was holding, he then let himself fall on the bench behind him not once acknowledging the fact that someone stayed behind, it wasn’t until he hear Eddie clear his throat that he gave him his attention.

-Listen Eddie, he began but a single look from his teammate made him flinch and quiet down.

-You might be reinstated, Eddie roared getting up from his place, you might be back on the team, back on call, he enumerated walking toward him, but you’ll never be a part of this family again, he sneered fist clenched at his side, so don’t try, he huffed, don’t try to mend things, don’t try talking with us from now on we’re only colleagues Buckley, he deadpanned leaving the locker room.

And just like that everything went silent, he could only hear the sound of his shattering heart, the wail of his broken soul, the realization hitting him like a truck, it was meaningless, there were nothing holding him back, nothing to keep him fighting, nothing and no one worth fighting for, everything was silent and even if the siren were getting louder, even though Hen kept on calling his name he couldn’t move the violence of his heartbreak, of his grief nailed him to the ground.

He could handle light duties, could handle the glares, the critics, the insults and even the bullying sometimes, he could handle being isolated, handle eating alone and hiding in his car to shed the tears he held up all day, what he couldn’t handle, couldn’t support, couldn’t accept was his teammates lacks of professionalism, he couldn’t handle the fact that they couldn’t let go of the grudges they held against him during calls.

He was only doing his job, only asking the routines questions when Bobby decided it was the right times to belittle him in front of his team and the victims, making him pass for the dumb blond he wasn’t, making him regret the day he started to think of him as his hero, his model.

He was sitting gloomily in the locker room when Hen found him, his gaze fixed on the dark screen of his phone, he didn’t acknowledge her presence, didn’t raise his head and gave her the little smile she was so used to get by now, he was only looking at his phone, only staring at him with sadness and confusion.

-Something’s wrong Buckaroo, she breathed sitting next to him

-I...I asked for a transfer after Bobby told me I wasn’t reinstated, he revealed quietly his sight still on his phone, and I learned today that they actually accepted it, he revealed in a mirthless laugh.

-Why didn’t you tell me...tell us about it, Hen chocked, I never thought you all of people would actually give up, she frowned grabbing his arm, Evan, she pressed using his name for the first time.

-I’m not giving up, he swallowed facing her, I fought, I tried, I did everything to get them back, to get my family back, he hissed tears streaming down his face, I never gave up, he roared pointing to himself, I never gave up, he breathed kneeling down tiredly, it’s a losing game Hen, he half smiled, it’s better to accept defeat, he shrugged.

-Where are you transferred, she queried staring at him,

-Don’t know yet, he shrugged, could be on the other side of LA or in another state, he revealed, told them I was pretty flexible, he joked miserably.

The spell was broken, just like Cinderella after the clock struck midnight, the mail was a reality check, it was the sign he was waiting for, the one TK was talking about, his Californian dream was definitely over, he didn’t know how to process it, didn’t know how to accept that after three years he was ejected from his earthly Eden.

He found himself once again the target of a dreamless and sleepless night, once again facing his laptop screen, once again messaging the only person able to get him

From Buck: It seems that the sign I was waiting for came earlier than expected, I don’t know if I’m ready to give up yet.

From TK: It’s not giving up, it’s moving on.

#911fic #911 on fox #911 lone star #lone star fic #lone star on fox #911 crossover fic #tk x buck friendship #tk x carlos #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #carlos x tk #carlos reyes #tk strand #eddie diaz #evan buckley #angst #you’ve got a mail fic #you’ve got a mail

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vmheadquarters · 4 years

Text

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Six of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @jeanie205. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.27 from @nevertothethird - tag, you’re it!

_____________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX by @jeanie205

Business hadn’t exactly been booming at Mars Investigations lately, and even though she knew her dad was right, that the PI business, like almost everything else, was cyclical, Veronica still chafed under the inactivity.

She’d filled in her time the past few days with a flurry of office organization and some paperwork she’d been putting off for weeks, interspersed with a couple of bread-and-butter infidelity stakeouts. But either the unfaithful spouses had gotten stupider over the years, or Veronica had just gotten a lot better at sussing them out. Because while the pay had been good - great, in fact - it hadn’t taken her long to come up with the Money Shots.

So now she was at loose ends again. Even Mac had taken the day off after completing her update of the MI website, which she’d told Veronica was “a disaster.”

“They aren’t going to hire you if your site looks like it was designed in a high school IT class,” Mac had said, shaking her head.

For as much good as it’s done so far, Veronica thought, sitting alone in her office with nothing to do.

Her glance fell unconsciously to her bottom right-hand desk drawer. The deep one.

Well, maybe she didn't exactly have nothing to do.

There was a case of sorts, if she wanted to count guessing the ending of a whodunit written by the least likely mystery writer she could ever have imagined. An activity that Veronica had so far found not particularly entertaining. Mostly because the plot was already so convoluted that she doubted the eventual reveal could ever make much sense.

On the other hand, she’d become rather fond of Ruby Jetson, and knew they probably owed her for helping to exonerate Logan of murder. Besides which, she had promised.

With a guilty sigh, Veronica pulled open the drawer and hefted out a thick envelope.

Ruby had brought her the manuscript nearly a week earlier, eager to know if the story was good enough to “fool” the seasoned detective. Although she’d shown up without an appointment, Veronica had taken the time to read several chapters, Ruby smiling delightedly whenever she’d frowned in puzzlement.

“I knew it was a good mystery,” Ruby had boasted gleefully. “That even you wouldn’t be able to figure it out.”

By then, it had become apparent that Ruby expected her to read the whole damn book right then and there! Thank god Mac had soon caught on and poked her head in the office door, reminding Veronica about “her appointment.”

Ruby had looked disappointed when Veronica carefully re-stacked the loose manuscript pages and slipped them into the large envelope, stowing everything away in her bottom drawer.

“I’ll finish it soon,” she’d promised faithfully.

But she never had, although Ruby had called every day, looking for an update.

“Hurry up, Veronica,” she’d complained only the day before, the exasperation clear in her voice. “I need to send it to my publisher.”

Veronica had been surprised. Ruby already had a publisher?

As she slipped the manuscript out of the envelope, quickly flipping to the red post-it she’d left to hold her place, she fleetingly wondered who in hell might actually want to publish Ruby’s novel.

Picking up where she’d left off, Veronica noted the same peculiarity that had struck her the week before. Ruby’s chapters often varied so wildly in both style and format that it was almost like they’d been written by different people. She paused in her reading, considered for a moment if Ruby might have some kind of dual personality disorder. After all, the woman did have two names.

Or... maybe the answer was much simpler. Maybe Ruby had a collaborator, the same person, Veronica thought with growing certainty, who’d passed along all the personal information that Ruby could never have dug up, no matter how much “research” she’d done.

And that was another thing. Veronica’s annoyance rose as she came across yet another intimate-sounding encounter between book-Veronica and book-Logan. Ruby had promised her faithfully that the names in her roman a clef-slash-murder mystery would definitely be changed in the next draft. Veronica sure as hell hoped she followed through. Otherwise, the fledgling author was going to be bombarded with lawsuits. And Veronica Mars would be at the head of the line.

She sighed, turning back to the story just in time to find that... Ruby had killed herself off!

Or at least, she’d killed off Della Pugh.

Veronica’s eyes narrowed in surprise at this fictional turn of events. Was this some sort of symbolic “killing” of her original self so that her Ruby persona could thrive? She shook her head, finally deciding she was no better as a psychologist than she was a literary critic. She flipped quickly to the next chapter and soon wished she hadn’t. A delusional, Veronica-obsessed Duncan Kane was not exactly pleasant company.

Veronica was considering with wry amusement how the man himself might view his portrayal (should he ever see it) when she was startled by the ringing of a phone. Not the office land line but the cell phone that she had to dig out from the depths of her well-loved but totally inconvenient studded black leather bag.

She might not have even bothered had the sounds of the Perishers’ “Sway” not told her it was Logan calling. She’d assigned him that ringtone in a burst of nostalgia the same day she’d updated his photo from pukka beads to dress blues.

The fact that he was calling was in itself unnerving. If Logan wanted to communicate with her during the day, he almost always texted. So of course her mind went immediately to the worst-case scenario.

“Logan! Is everything okay? Is my dad...”

“Veronica!” Logan cut in on her abruptly. “Are you watching the news? Turn on the news!”

“Wh-what? You mean, like... CNN?”

“No. The local news. It’s a breaking story on a continuous loop.”

“Okay.” Mystified, she grabbed the remote from a drawer and powered up the wall TV that she hardly ever used.

And there was that creepy newscaster, the one who invariably reminded her of Vinnie Van Lowe.

“... a tragedy right here in Neptune last night when promising new writer Ruby Jetson was murdered in her own home.”

Veronica gasped. It couldn’t be!

“Veronica! You still there?”

“Yeah, Logan, I’m here. I can’t... I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it. And there’s more. Keep watching.”

Onscreen, the newscaster was just beginning the introduction of an “important witness” to the tragedy.

“We’re fortunate to have with us here in the studio the man who discovered the body of Ms. Jetson. Neptune’s very own school principal turned book publisher, Mr. Van Clemmons.”

Veronica nearly fell off her chair. Holy shit! Clemmons was Ruby’s publisher?

She quickly turned up the volume, desperate to hear every word.

“I understand you were about to publish Ms. Jetson’s first novel, Mr. Clemmons?” the Vinnie-clone asked in that fake tone of sympathetic interest that all newscasters somehow managed to perfect.

Clemmons nodded.

“That’s right. Of course, I’d known her as Della Pugh back when she was at Neptune High, but she’d made some changes in her life, and if she preferred to be Ruby Jetson, who was I to say she shouldn’t?”

Veronica rolled her eyes. Right, Van. You were always so forward-thinking.

“And the book?” the newscaster encouraged, refusing to be shifted off-topic by anything about the actual victim herself.

“Well, ah, Ruby came to me with the idea. Some kind of murder mystery. Very popular genre, of course. But the story was to be based on people she’d known in high school. I thought it sounded... promising. And she was just about to deliver the first draft. Said she’d finished it but was waiting for some feedback from a trusted friend.”

Veronica blinked. A trusted friend?

She wrenched her mind away from dwelling on the sheer... unexpectedness of Ruby regarding her as a friend, because Clemmons was still talking and she didn’t want to miss a word.

“Ruby kept delaying turning in the first draft, so I stopped by last night to see if I could... hurry her along.”

Clemmons paused briefly, and for the first time looked visibly shaken.

“And that’s when I... found her.”

The newscaster nodded slowly. “Not a pleasant experience.”

“No, indeed,” Clemmons agreed.

“And the book?” Vinnie’s doppelgänger was not to be thwarted.

Clemmons shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen after all. Only Ruby had copies of the manuscript, but there weren’t any in her apartment. And her laptop was missing, too.”

“The police...?”

“Didn’t find anything, either.”

“So the book won’t be published.”

Clemmons shrugged. “I can’t publish what I don’t have.”

The newscaster paused to make sure that viewers caught the significance of his next question.

“Do you think it’s possible that poor Ruby was killed because of something in that book?”

Clemmons hesitated. “I suppose it could be,” he said finally. “But I guess we’ll never know. If there ever was a manuscript, it’s gone forever.”

Veronica stared at the screen for long seconds before she muttered the words under her breath.

“No, Van. Not quite fucking gone.”

She switched off the television and picked up her phone. “You still there, Logan?”

“No, I’m here,” he said, appearing suddenly in the office doorway. “Thought maybe I should come by.”

She nodded, and as one their eyes fell on the loose pages still sitting in the middle of Veronica’s desk.

In seconds, she’d scooped them up and shoved them back into the envelope. But this time, the manuscript wasn’t crammed unceremoniously back into that deep bottom drawer. This time, Veronica opened their rarely-used safe and locked the thick envelope securely inside.

Veronica thought Logan must have sensed how shaken she suddenly felt because he was across the room like a shot, and in seconds she was wrapped in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Veronica,” Logan said softly, breathing the words into her hair.

“Yeah, me, too,” she murmured into his shoulder.

Then she took a deep breath and stepped back from Logan’s arms, determination stiffening her spine as she gazed up at him.

“Somebody killed Ruby over that damn book, Logan. And we’re gonna figure out who the hell did it.”

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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aurorarose · 4 years

Text

a true king;;

F E A T U R I N G : stefan capulet (with guest appearances from his parents who don’t have a name (lol) and leah capulet)

T I M E F R A M E : 1991 - 2011

S Y N O P S I S : try as he does to be the king his kingdom needs, stefan forever struggles with what that truly means.

T R I G G E R S : implied verbal abuse

N O T E S : i’m sorry for this but these family trees really got me MESSED UP OVER HERE

According to your father, a true king is one that makes the right decisions even in the most difficult of circumstances.

You’re sixteen at the time. ‘Just a boy,’ as your mother insists whilst scolding him from across the table, and while you’d usually be the the first one to whine and insist that she stop treating you like a child, you feel like a child in that moment. He towers above you, pacing back and forth across the length of the dining hall and clearly incensed after having to witness his son being brought home by the scruff of his neck by the head of his guard and hear the stories of how he’d been found trying to sneak off into the Moors in the early hours of the morning. Every little bit of scolding and shouting and anger hurled your way feels like a new shot of ice right in your veins, and even in spite of your pride you find yourself flinching and wincing each and every time. She’s right - you’re nothing but a child in that moment, reduced to a shivering mass sunk into cushioned back of your seat.

He tells you this sage piece of advice after nearly twenty minutes of verbal barraging have passed, his wide, ring-encrusted hands slamming against the glossy mahogany of the table separating the two of you as he leans menacingly closer. There’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before - one of an almost manic excitement shrouded by fury - and those very words seem to reverberate in the air in the long silence that follows his statement.

It’s obvious to you then that he knows exactly what you’ve been doing in the Moors. Fraternizing with those beasts - the fairies and pixies and golems and everything that your entire kingdom seemed to despise with such a passion. With Maleficent, foreign and menacing and yet beautiful in a way you’ve never known before. It’s been years that you’ve known her, but even you can’t help but wish you’d never met her while under the weight of your father’s gaze.

It feels like a decade has passed before he speaks again, but when he does, his voice lowers into a near murmur, his weight shifting forward to ensure that the two of you are eye-to-eye. “It’s time for you to make the right decision, son.”

You find yourself alone ten minutes later with the weight of an ultimatum sitting heavy on your shoulders. In theory, it should be an easy decision: Maleficent or the crown. And yet, no matter how you try, you can’t seem to reconcile it. On one hand, you know that choosing to follow the orders laid down by your father would mean hurting the one person who’d always loved you without conditions. She didn’t care about any of it - the fineries, crown, or title - but about you, and you know without a shadow of a doubt that doing such a deed would inevitably turn her from you for the rest of time itself. Then again, you also knew that there was nothing more important to you than your father’s approval, and with the threat of disownment hanging over your head you’ve found your mind thrown into a sort of blind panic to do whatever he wants.

You debate over it for weeks, sick to your stomach with the possibilities juggling around your skull. You’re not sure you’ve made the right decision even after the deed is done and the threat of the Moors is practically made extinct in one swift power move, but your one comfort is that it has won you the ultimate protection - the crown. At the end of the day, you’d long since decided that power was worth any sacrifice, and no matter how much it hurt, you’d continue to chase it for as long as you live.

⚜⚜⚜

According to your wife, a true king is one that knows how to show weakness.

It’s stated at the point of pure exasperation, her face twisted in frustration and illuminated by the dim light shining from the opposite side of the room as she pushes herself off of the bed. The way she glowers at you once she’s whirled around to face you once more from a safe few strides away speaks volumes of her state of mind; she’s mad, and you’re the reason for it.

You’ve not been married for more than a month, and yet your marriage already seems to be in shambles. It’s would be funny were you not on the receiving end of her ire, and even so you can’t help but find it foolish of her to have expected any differently out of you. This was no more than a political union, after all - as most royal marriages had been for centuries - and yet she persisted in a hopeless, endless battle to soften you to the idea of her.

You would be lying if you said you expected any less of her. Leah Montaigne, after all, had quite the reputation of her own before she’d ever been named yours. Beautiful, intelligent, and charming... she was everything expected of a queen and more, but you also knew that there was an undercurrent of cunning that ran under it all and a willingness to use her charms to get ahead. It was smart, even you could admit that. Women, after all, were so often seen as weak and emotionally driven, so for her to play right into that stereotype and act the part of the demure ingenue as an act of manipulation was brilliant. You can’t even say it wouldn’t work on you if you’d not been wise to her ways and unwavered by the prospect of romantic love. That concept had been dead to you for years now, and so try as she did to win you over piece by piece, she’d been met with nothing with resistance just as she had just moments ago. Her games weren’t working, and now here she was espousing the values of weakness as if it would somehow sway you.

Leah stands there for a moment, silent as her figure framed by the dimming light of day shining from the window behind her. Her mouth opens as if she’s ready to say something else only to clamp shut once more, and it happens once again, then twice more before she finally finds her words. “You don’t have to love me,” she deadpans, the usually soft timbre of her voice colored with a new intensity he’d never quite heard from her before, “And honestly? You don’t even have to like me if you don’t want to. But you do have to work with me - whether you like it or not.”

Your first instinct is to brush her words off, even as she whisks herself out of the room in the type of hurry that practically screamed that she was more than unhappy with you. That being said, those very thoughts linger in your mind, playing on a feedback loop as if it were some sort of mantra, and slowly but surely the realization dawns on you that you may know your wife, but you don’t know her - not really, at least. You don’t know her hopes and dreams, nor do you know her intentions. Hell, she could be just as averse to the idea of this marriage as you are, and yet she’d done just as she said you needed to... she worked with you.

The change isn’t instant, but slowly but surely the relationship between the two of you develops. It’s not love, nor will it ever be, but it is a partnership and you couldn’t ask for a better woman to be by your side throughout it all. The very same woman is the one who gives you an heir just a few short years later - a beautiful baby girl who shared her mother’s golden hair and your blue eyes - and it’s only when your daughter is born that you finally find enough inner peace to begin to come around to the idea of allowing yourself a little bit of joy.

And then Maleficent came, all fury and flames and fully determined to tear that joy apart piece by piece.

You would’ve been fine with accepting the consequences. The nightmares of what you’d done to her had haunted you for years, leaving you in a constant state of unrest where guilt threatened to eat you alive at any moment. If anything, you’d expected her to strike you dead as soon as you saw that achingly familiar face emerge from the crowd, and you supposed that you deserved what was coming to you. Ultimately, though, she chose a fate worse than death as her personal form of vengeance; instead of taking you as recompense, her attention was turned to something far, far more precious.

The gasps of despair were audible as Maleficent’s curse became fully actualized. Your child - the innocent little babe fast asleep no more than a few feet away from him - would be the one to pay the price for her father’s actions with her own life. For as long as you’d worn the crown, you’d never felt anything more than invincible, but here and now, staring into the eyes of the woman who was singlehandedly able to take everything you loved from you without so much of an afterthought, you felt truly powerless for the first time. Your wife’s words from years prior echo in your mind as if some sort of belated reminder, and without another thought, you do the only thing you can do in that moment: you beg.

It’s humiliating. Here you are, on your knees before your subjects and contemporaries and before her in particular, pleading with her to spare your daughter’s laugh. And god, the look of joy on her face at the vision before her and her concession to take your thoughts into consideration gives you a sense of false hope for a mere moment... until she begins to speak once more. A loophole of sorts - the one thing that could wake his daughter from that century-long sleep was true love’s kiss. The crowd around you seems relieved, but you’re no more comforted than you were before; looking into the wicked glee gleaming in her eyes, you know that she knows as well as you do that true love doesn’t exist and that all efforts were ultimately for nothing. Aurora was doomed, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Weakness ultimately fails you in that moment. And with that, you vowed you’d never allow yourself to be weak - not again.

⚜⚜⚜

According to your advisors, a true king is one that will go to no ends to win a war, no matter the cost.

They’ve witnessed every single moment of the past hour, from the arrival of one of the three faeries he’d entrusted his daughter with sixteen years prior to the moment she broke the news that transferring the girl over to his care that evening was simply impossible - not when the signs of Maleficent’s handiwork remained so evident and unavoidable. They’d also witnessed the aftermath of that very message, his irrational, intense fury that had reduced you to a screaming, red-faced mess as he stormed about the room and insisted that you refused to let the damned woman win after all these years. She’d kept your daughter from you for sixteen years and was now threatening to keep her from you even longer, and that was simply something you wouldn’t stand for.

The faerie had told you plenty of other inconvenient things. For one, the girl remained apparently devastated by the news of her lineage and had been practically inconsolable for hours. It was indicated to you that most of it had to do with some boy she’d met - a peasant, though there was no other real information that could be provided about him - but that ultimately, the girl was still at the cottage, sick with grief as the other two faeries tried in vain to bring her around to the idea. She allegedly didn’t want to come home, which you still find to be completely egregious, if not weak-minded of the girl. She’s sixteen, after all, and practically a woman at this point - she should know better.

Ultimately, however, you don’t care what she wants, nor what she feels. She can cry and wail and bemoan her royal status as a cruel twist of fate for all you care; so long as you could be victorious in keeping Maleficent from having the final laugh, her mental state is of little to no concern.

It’s cruel of you. One advisor tells you as much after voicing such to the faerie and ordering her off to fetch the girl and bring her back to you. The old you would’ve thought so, too - a twenty year old boy-king with the world at his feet and some fatherly obligation to protect an innocent child from facing undue wrath - but after sixteen years spent tracking and calculating Maleficent’s every move, this is no longer a moral fight for you. It’s a war in the form of a chess game, with each person watching and waiting to make the move that would eventually blow the other off the board. Aurora is nothing more than the final pawn in that game, a trophy for you to seize and wave in Maleficent’s face as if boasting that you got her first, and that is a victory you want more than anything else.

It’s a long, terse few minutes spent pacing circles about the room and muttering angrily to yourself before another advisor dares to speak up. The point he brings up is a good one - what good would having the child here do if she was still at risk with every passing moment? Could they feasibly protect her when Maleficent was only growing stronger with every passing moment? It takes plenty of reasoning before he so much as manages to get through with you, but it finally sticks after he utters that phrase to you. After all, she could win this battle all she wants, but you were in it to win the war.

And so, begrudging at best, you make the call. Aurora wouldn’t be returning home that evening, nor would she be staying within the kingdom; instead, she’d be going elsewhere - far enough away that it would be nearly impossible to find her - until he could figure out a way to get rid of that damned faerie once and for all. Granted, the decision comes with some sticky points between making sure the word got to the faeries before they set out to the castle and arranging something with King Hubert to get an extension on the political arrangement that they’d planned sixteen years prior with their own children right at the center, but at the end of it, you know there’s no other real choice for you to make.

Your plans have been dashed, and in spite of your best efforts, Maleficent has managed to gain the upper hand on you. That being said, you know full and well that you won’t rest until she’s gone for good, and you’re willing to do just about anything to ensure you’re the one to get their revenge in the very end.

#tl;dr: stefan capulet is a Bad Man #also this is me yet again saying i would Die to see a maleficent wandering around here pls and thanks #{ self-para }#[ c: stefan capulet ]

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stars-and-rose · 5 years

Text

emily’s notes on dealing with INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS

so it took me an hour and a half to fulling watch the video because I ended up taking seven and a half pages of notes??? i might make a separate post analyzing the characters/the plot in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, but we’ll see. with that out of the way, please note that these notes are in chronological order. spoilers under the keep reading

seven warnings. seven freaking warnings. shit has hit the fan

why is Thomas ME in the mornings

wait no THOMAS BABY AHHHHHH

Virgil and Patton’s expressions when they first come in, oh god, Virgil looks absolutely done and Patton’s playing the ‘nothing is ever wrong’ game again

ROMAN. THERE IS SOMETHING OFF WITH MY SON AND I’M NOT EVEN TWO MINUTES IN

Patton singing to himself is pretty cute not gonna lie

“secrets secrets are no fun, share with me or else we’re done.”-Roman is me yet again

also “i have yet to receive my invite to the pity party” Ro i can’t-

okay so it seems Virgil Patton and Thomas all know something and they don’t want Roman to know

not gonna lie, watching these three play cover-up is pretty damn funny and Ro is on to them

I AM ONLY 2 MINUTES AND 28 SECONDS INTO THIS AND I WANNA C R Y

Roman calling in Logan for back up? WHOOOOOOO we stan

AHHHH SOMETHING IS VERY W RON G

Logan gets one FALSEHOOD a day?

honestly can't tell if they’re trying to protect Roman or they don’t trust him rn and ahhh that hurts

I’M VERY CONFUSED

i feel like i’m witnessing the logince vs moxiety war

so everyone but Roman knows and everyone but Logan is desperate to keep it that way

???????

NO ONE IS OKAY

they’re all coming for Ro’s role as the Extra side, huh? we’re hitting some extremes

“you all are acting fishy.” “so what, i’m acting fishy, sush- sue me.” “don’t pretend that wasn’t on purpose.” Roman and Virgil at their finest

why isn’t Roman allowed to know about Thomas’s intrusive thoughts???

“i’m going to prohibit your breathing if you keep this up.” Virgil NO

Virgil Patton what are you doing

Roman is not going to fall for that distraction

wait no he did

i think everyone is a wee bit high

“have you ever imagined killing your brother”-HOLY SHIT SHIT IS HITTING THE FAN

OH MY GOD THE HANDS BEHIND RO AT 5:58 I JUST SCREAMED

THERE IS A CREEPY RAT MAN BEHIND THE TV

Patton covering his mouth and whispering out evil, and Virgil dropping into his tempest tongue when they see creepy rat man AAHHHHHHHHH

OH MY GOD HE HIT ROMAN HE HIT ROMAN WITH A MORNINGSTAR OH MY IS HE DEAD

“it’s the Duke.” thank you, Logan, BUT WHAT THE EVERLIVING FUCK DOES THAT MEAN

The Duke is so freaking scary i can not-

state farm ad: everything in life is alright with state farm!

me, in hysterics only eight minutes in: nOtHiNg Is AlRiGhT

the Duke’s costume though... the clear elements from Roman but the inverted colors and the Duke feels gaudier

the Duke’s song is so creepy i can’t oh my god he'd been on screen for five minutes and he’s terrifying. The imagery, how dark everything is, how easily he moves around the other sides i’m chilled to the bone

did Roman call the duke bro??? um what???

also isn’t roman unconscious

I WANT MY ROMAN BACKKKKKKK

oh god what happened between Deceit and the Duke

the Duke is fucking terrifying. have i said that yet

i don’t wanna see the dark sides anymore! i’m good

that song is going to haunt me FOREVER

so the Duke is dark fantasies and corrupted creativity definitely Ro’s dark side

i no like

maybe the Duke was able to pop in because Roman’s been hurting recently????

HE JUST PULLED OFF HIS EARS OH GOD

Logan is the only one keeping himself together, i hope he can rationalize the Duke but i fear not

“you’re not creativity!”

“yeah! that’s the brave, handsome (Patton your gay is showing) unbeatable Roman!

*camera cuts to Ro still unconscious muttering about mashed potatoes*

Virgil looked so cute when he blew his bangs out of the way!

back to the angst

‘you’re scary’

*camera cuts to hurt/unimpressed Virgil*

ALSO THE DUKE IS NOT SCARY HE’S TERRIFYING

everyone is pointing fingers ahahhahah

how quickly Patton believed Logan was actually Deceit OOF when the only evidence for this was based on the fact Logan didn’t agree with Patton/Virgil’s method of dealing with the Duke

Lo: *trying to logic through the situation*

Vee and Pat: please shut your mouth

Logan:*talks about how nothing is black and white*

Thomas: *points out the difference between Roman in white and the Duke in black*

which is an amazing visual for character!Thomas’s black and white thinking

and it’s also an amazing detail to contrast Roman and the Duke. i thought the contrast between Patton and Deceit's suits was cool in SvS, but this is another level

Roman is still unconscious on the floor. the Duke is standing over him. alright, trash rat bastard.

wow i can’t believe my favorite side has a twin brother that’s an actual rodent

holy shit Thomas is such an amazing actor i genuinely cannot handle it, applause applause applause

“Wow, I hate him.” YEAH ME TOO THOMAS

the entire side conversation between Logan and Patton regarding the cradle in the treetop is gold

have i mentioned that the duke is disturbing yet? there is an EYEBALL on his shoulder

“...........maybe?” oh Patton bb you are trying but you’re not there yet

wow what happened between the Duke and Virgil, because the Duke really don’t like him

ROMAN YOU CAN G E T U P NOW

okay Virgil, that’s fine, break my heart

we’re still stuck on this “is Thomas a good person thing?”

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LOGAN YOU GO SMART BABE

the flashback is just as creepy every time it plays gOD

well Vee got in an uncensored curse

Patton is shook

Virgil legit looks at him like,”you’re really hung up on THAT right now?”

“I’m about to smash the hulk!” what is happening.

“One of you is enough!” yes and I’d prefer Deceit right now!!

Deceit is a shit but he’s a shit with a cause

the Duke is just a rat

Patton is really playing the ignore all our problems card,huh

that didn’t work his arc why is he trying it again???

“this isn’t about me wanting to be listened too” SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU’RE TOO BLAME @ logan

Logan almost calling Virgil paranoid HURT

that brings me back to the whole “paranoviligant” scene from the Hogwarts video. both Ro and Lo have prevented themselves from calling Virgil paranoid, even though I feel like meaner things have been said. the word paranoid is significant then.

also logan quickly fixing his mistake there damn i love him

Thomas pleading with Virgil and Patton hurt me so much AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“well that can’t be where the bar is” WHAT A PARALLEL

Logan’s speech on religious really hit me.

i’m Catholic, but I’m also Pansexual.

watching an openly gay man talk about Religion freely made me feel really happy and accepted and i might have cried

also it was such a good way from Logan to make his point

the Duke really threw Patton and Virgil through a loop, huh

LOGAN IS THE BREADWINNER LISTEN TO HIM G O

okay, theory time: the Duke gets more powerful the weaker Roman gets and vice versa. so to keep the Duke away, Ro needs to get himself in a better place to figuratively defeat the Duke. but how can he get to that better place when it seems everyone is against him?

“i said figuratively. and that is why i say it. THAT *clap* IS *clap* WHY *clap* I *clap* SAY *clap* IT *clap* Lo really went off there, you go you funky little nerd

also Logan claps to emphasize his points a lot and it’s cute

“despite his best efforts, Virgil's could never stop being the bad guy~!” OUCH

you can see the vivid hurt on Virgil’s face when Logan says that it’s his faiult, it looks like he was slapped

and Logan quickly adding “oh and uh Patton.”

“rEcOrD sCrAtCh?” shut up stinky trash man

and Virgil’s shock that he isn’t the only problem, that isn’t not completely his fault?

and logan’s shock in realizing he isn’t the problem??

not like i needed a heart or anything

wow the Duke finally realized that Logan is going to smite him only took 25 minutes

he really just went off on Logan and Lo’s not even fazed

did the Duke just-

yeah he vored the deodorant

i can’t take this anymore

THE DUKE’S NAME

first of all, he just gave it anyway like it was nothing. the others gave thier names at key moments for them, and the Duke is like, yeah I’m Remus

also I SAW the little look he gave Virgil he’s not fooling me

wait is that why he gave his name so early? to spite Virgil? because Virgil hid his name for so long and such?

that’s it I’m voring the stinky trash bastard

second, the significance of the name itself. i’m assuming Remus is named after the Remus in Roman mythology. You know, the twins Romulus (hint hint RO nudge nudge) and Remus, the founders of Rome, but in the end Romulus killed Remus and became the city’s namesake

based on the connection of the names, and hoping that Roman is the Romulus of this story, Ro will be able to ‘defeat’ Remus one day

DID LOGAN JUST BARE HIS TEETH AT REMUS

he did OH MY GOD

Roman, still unconscious on the floor, telling Remus to shut up and defending Lo? we stan (one) creativity twin

well Remus just shuriikened Logan in the forehead

Logan simply falling for a brief moment then fixing the wound? he’s really a badass huh

Logan just summed up this entire shebang by saying,”if things one and two stop fearing the psycho asshole he’ll have no power.” alright Lo you go

LOGAN ALL THE WINS

Remus is really fucking dramatic huh, really seeing how he can be Roman’s twisted twin

really, Ro is chaotic good and Remus is straight up chaotic evil

“is he gone” you can’t be falling for that they’re ten minutes left on the episode

they fell for it

Virgil’s brutal honesty in listening off Thomas’s problems oof

“what if you sniffed your dogs butt?” Remus is getting a bit milder the more Logan talks him down, Lo is truly a king

“just shut up” WHOOOOO THOMAS

Patton and Virgil listening to Lo? GIVE ME AN AMEN

now we just need Ro to jump on the listening-to-Lo-express

AND LOGAN SAYING “IT’S OKAY” AND COMFORTING THE OTHER THREE AND BEING GENTLE WHOOOOOOO NO MORE OF THAT EMOTIONLESS BULLSHIT LOGAN WE KNOW YOU CARE ABOUT THEM

Logan’s speech on therapy? FANTASTIC, GIVE HIM AN AWARD

Patton admitting and realizing his over controlling methods and flaws??? we stan character development

VIRGIL JUST CALLED REMUS A COMMON COLD I CAN’T

but really, Virgil telling Remus off and calling him a pest not worth his time?? a king

“it was just like old times!” the look Patton and Logan share, they definitely are aware of Virgil’s past with the dark sides/ possibly being one and they are done with Vee being harassed

STINKY TRASH BASTARD IS GONE

ROMAN IS NOT DEAD

but his line, “I can see now why everyone was reluctant to tell me what was going on.” confused me

why didn’t the other warn Roman that Remus could be coming? it’s not like Roman didn’t know Remus existed (they are literally twins) and the other knew Remus existed so I'm not sure what all the secrecy was about. if the sides warned Ro, he could have been prepared, and you know, not unconscious for most of the video.

EVERYONE IS SO CONCERNED FOR RO AHHHHH

literally i might have screamed

i definitely did

when Roman used the same insult/nickname as Remus to Logan, how distraught he looked oh god

maybe that’s why Roman’s so much of a perfectionist,,, he’s so desperate to not be like Remus, Roman forces himself to be the exact opposite and it’s causing him pain

the little smiles everyone gives Lo at the end??? AHHHHHHHH

Thomas thanking logan and calling him Cool, and Logan just sinking out in response?????

SOFT SOFT SOFT

the entire like thirty seconds Roman and Remus share the screen, RO looks so uncomfortable

there has to be something else that happened between them,not just they being exact opposites... not sure on what

it also seems like Logan is getting better but Roman is falling down the rabbit hole and getting even worse

the funhouse mirror metaphor HURT

Roman is really coming for Patton’s nothing-is-ever-wrong game huh?

also just noting the parallels between Roman and Remus, the hand gestures, even how they both sink out with the same BYEEEEEEEE!

Virgil babey don’t blame yourself-

holy shit Virgil just dropped the mic

really that scene broke my heart

it wasn’t the reveal itself, but damn the delivery

Virgil looks on the verge of tears,puts himself out there and telling Thomas that he was a dark side and being met by silence???

my HEART

Thomas is such an incredible actor i cannot-

side note, how did Thomas not know? i believe the other sides know (someone please ask me about this so i can rant) and Vee was never exactly sutble about it and Deceit and Remus both taunted him about the past??

is character!Thomas just that dense??

so it seems like Logan is doing better, Patton is decent for the moment, but Virgil and Roman are both struggling right now

it feels like Roman’s arc is very drawn out, so i feel like things are getting worse before they get better

as for Virgil, i REALLY want the next video to be about how the past doesn’t define you and end with the other comforting Vee.

dear G O D why is Remus eating deodorant??

also, i really want to know what is actually the deodorant

or is Thomas actually eating deodorant

SOMEONE PLEASE CALL POISON CONTROL-

76 notes · View notes

snkpolls · 5 years

Text

SnK Chapter 118 Poll Results

The chapter 118 poll closed with 1,311 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated.

Rate the Chapter 1,217 responses

“Sneak Attack” is the second highest rated chapter this year with only 1.2% expressing extreme unhappiness with the chapter. The overwhelming majority (93.7%) rated it a 4 or 5 on our 1-5 scale.

A chapter I finally enjoyed with a lot of developments other than just Titan bashing. It would've been perfect if we also got some answers about Levi/Hange and Historia but well we can't have everything I suppose.

Finally got some great character development that is amazing payoff after all these years! The Shiganshina vets, Paradis Commanders, and Marley crew all had great moments!

Impressive how so many of the many many plotlines in the air were allowed some great development in just one, insane chapter.

I loved this chapter. I feel like shingeki is really at it's best when we have character moments and plenty of dialogue.

the chapter was too wholesome, I'm scared for next chapter

Which of the following was your favorite moment? 1,263 responses

“Mikasa leaving her scarf behind” has the slight majority, but only a few percentage points separate the top choices. “Falco’s confession” and “Armin rallying everyone to Eren’s side” follow in second and third.

Mikasa is best girl, she is no ones slave ! I just need ch 119 now!

Go Go Mikasa!!!

I'm so into Armin having some kind of game plan and Mikasa moving forward.

I love this chapter. It was an action chapter but damn there were so many touching, human moments it made me so emotional. Connie outburst about being constantly betrayed (pls give this boy a break, he lost so much), Mikasa leaving the scarf behind, Nile helping Falco and speaking about his daughters, Grice bros reunion hug, FALCO'S CONFESSION, Zeke and Pieck still caring about each other.....

I'm so glad to see I was right about Onyankopon lying to Yelena because he had no other choice and still be loyal to the 104th and Hanji!!!

Well, better late than never; I am truly happy to see Mikasa’s development, being more independent.

WOW JEAN MY SON YOU'RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE

Who was this chapter’s MVP? 1,245 responses

Armin managed to claim the title of MVP this chapter, and it’s no wonder. Not only did he show some much-needed optimism regarding Eren’s current state, but he also chose to believe in Onyankopon’s sincerity regarding his lack of any awareness of the wine plot.

Honorable mention to Nile, who doesn’t show up in these polls often - but when he does he makes sure to give Armin a worthy adversary for the title of MVP. Best dad? Best dad.

A little insulted Yelena isn't an option for MVP, she is literally the ONLY interesting character this chapter

I believe in Armin. He is the understanding character who's really trying to understand things about Eren.

I believe in his statement that Eren's hatred towards Mikasa is a lie.

I love Jean. He is surely honest that he can't let Eren die and is willing to help.

Finally Armin puts it together for everyone

I'd say everybody was the MVP in this chapter: Onyan for being honest with AMJC Jean radiating bi energy towards Eren Mikasa for dropping her scarf Connie for being done with betrayal Nile for being a family man Pixis for admitting he drank too much Falco for confessing to Gabi Gabi for letting go of her prejudice AND OF FUCKING COURSE GENERAL MAGATH AND PIECK FOR MAKING THEIR MONKEY HUNT SUCCESSFUL HAHAHAHAHAHA

How dare you not have Yelena in the options for MVP! LOL but seriously woman is batshit crazy, u guys should have a "who did better" question comparing her psycho face with Armin's and Jean.

Nile deserves to live and see his family

Each of the commanding officers had a big moment. Whose did you enjoy the most? 1,252 responses

Nile may have only come in second place for MVP of the chapter, but most (64.5%) respondents thought that he had the best moment of any commander who made an appearance this time - taking care of Falco and helping to reunite him with his family. Pixis was a distant-runner up (17.3%), with Magath and Shadis nearly tied for third place with about 9% of the vote each.

Nile is best dad

Magath’s shot might have been my favorite moment if he hadn’t missed. >.<

I'd fight a bear just to save Shadis :((((

Seriously though, who is Shadis trying to impress?

This is gonna be long but OOF I cannot express enough how much I loved the little Shadis panel. Bless him.

Has Armin convinced Yelena of his loyalty to her cause? 1,264 responses

Armin seems to be acting like he’s on Yelena’s side once again, and her first reaction to his comments was visceral to say the least, but then she seemed to warm up. 57.9% of you think she’s rebutted acting with acting and is only pretending to give Armin her blessing, whereas only 15.4% think Armin’s Oscar worthy performance won her over. 26.7% don’t have a clue about what this crazy girl is thinking.

Yelena and Armin are both playing each other.

Yelena is CRACKERS and I love her.

Yelena isn't suspicious of Armin, just yandere levels of jealous that he will get to see the Jaeger on Jaeger action up close and personal

Yelena is so out of her mind it actually makes me think if there's something more to her?

Yelena gave me nightmares tho.

Yelena's crazy face scared the shit out of me.

yelena looks like she eats the gum underneath desks

Would knowing Falco drank spinal fluid deter Zeke from screaming? 1,263 responses

Well… 8% of the people who took this poll have a level of optimism that is truly admirable. The other 92% have far less trust in Zeke’s compassion and empathy, most leaning towards the “Hell no” category - that Falco’s wine ingestion wouldn’t even be a consideration if it came to it. Press F for Falco.

After he’s told Falco has ingested his spinal fluid. He’ll give a cold look and say “ah... I see. *inhale* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

When he learns about Falco's confession and screams because he doesn't want any Grice-Braun baby on his watch

I scream, you scream, we all scream for- Oh shoot Falco's a titan

Zeke screams when Zeke wants to

Do you think Nile will live to see his family again? 1,262 responses

Commander Nile Dok is one of the many citizens to have ingested the spinal fluid wine. If they get transformed into titans, Nile would never get to see his wife Marie and their daughters again. 62.3% of you think he won’t reunite with them, while only 14.2% think he’ll see them again. 23.5% don’t know what they think his fate will be.

Nile deserves to live and see his family

Well, at least Nile and Pixis are goners for sure, but I still think that even if they are titanized, it isn't necessarily their end, because the power of the founder can be used to change the molecular structure of Titans, so if they don't die immediately Eren theoretically could turn them back into humans

please let nile see his family he's so underrated and he deserves it thank you mr. isayama

Which character’s feelings toward Eren best align with your own? 1,257 responses

Close to half the fandom agree with Armin that Eren is only doing this because he has no choice. In second place, almost a third agree with Jean’s “He’s a bastard but he’s cool.” The remaining ¼ of the fandom are divided between Mr. Braus (“Can we just head on home yet”) and Connie’s “I’m sick of being betrayed.”

Connie's anger is valid (fuck Eren)

Jean is out of character for part of it and I really hope that Armin has a secret plan to subdue Eren/at least get angry at Eren for all the shit he's put them through. Connie's right; Eren has been completely shitty and betrayed them even if he does it because he thinks he's saving them or something.

I'm glad Connie hasn't lost his ability to speak his mind, and is sick and tired of everyone's shit.

Armin wonders if Eren will use the rumbling to wipe out the world. What do you think? 1,249 responses

In this chapter, Armin thought back to Eren’s monologue at the ocean about killing everyone in the outside world. 56.2% of you don’t think that’s Eren’s goal at the moment, but that he would be willing to do it if push came to rumble. 20.1% think his end goal is in fact to flatten the earth, whereas 15.8% don’t believe Eren would ever do that in 2000 years.

ern got sneky plan up his slev

I think Eren intends to use the rumbling to destroy the world, but have confidence that Armin will be able to show him it's not the only way

Isayama has been making it so its not clear one way or the other. There are arguments for and against all of the options. I am waiting for a different plan altogether, but I would be fine with either way really.

Eren himself will never do that. But if he is influenced by the memories of so many Attack Titan holders and the will to always move forward and fight, he probably will.

Eren will use the rumbling to deter the world, not destroy it unless he has to.

He'll use it but for a purpose we don't know about yet. Possibly a way related to the S1 miner story and the walls going deeper underground.

I think that Eren's ideology of being born into this world as a free person is something that isn't just applied to Eldians. We know that Eren learned that those across the ocean are the same as those behind the walls. Despite the hatred that parts of the world may have, I don't think Eren wants to take away the freedom of those who never knew any better.

The slight pause in Armin's expression seems to tell me there's more to what he's thinking! Not just rumbling

I imagine we'll follow the time-loop theory and Eren will use the rumbling to rewrite (and rewind) the world to be one without any existence or recollection of titans. Or some weird shit like that.

Eren will turn all Eldian women into anime cat girls. That’s what I would do.

Do you think Armin is being genuine in his optimism about Eren? 1,248 responses

With all of the opinions on Eren floating around at the moment, Armin tries to convince the others that their friend isn’t on the side of evil. The majority, at about 60% believe that Armin’s not positive of what he’s saying, but is trying to be optimistic. 32.5% think Armin truly believes Eren’s had no choice in what side he’s on. Only 6.2% think Armin’s lying and tricking Yelena in that way.

He is being naive and basing his thoughts on his own perception of Eren. Or, he knows that Eren is up to something but needs to convince the others to work with Eren.

I think he’s pretending to support Eren to trick both the 104th and Yelena. The emotion he had after Eren hurt Mikasa was real, no way he’s just over that. But I think it stands true that without Eren, Pradise’s fight would be lost. After everything that happened, though, why would the 104th want to help Eren? Thus Armin knew he would have to manipulate them (and Yelena, for other reasons) for the greater good in the end.

I'm not sure. He wasn't against feeding Eren to someone else if he rejected the SC and now he seems to stand behind him? I think he wants to play along until he knows the truth for sure.

He's deluding himself. He knows Eren is going to destroy the world but doesn't want to believe it.

Yes I believe so. Armin felt like he did not understand Eren anymore because his actions didn’t make sense. That was until Yelena expelled their plan to him in prison. I think that was the missing piece that solved Armin’s puzzle. He may not be certain about the exact plan Eren has but he has enough to go on that Eren would never agree to euthanise people.

I don't think he fully trusts Eren, but he knows that right now, whatever plan Eren has, keeping him alive will be best for Paradise's side. I think he definitely wants to see the good in Eren, but he also realises there might be darker motives in him, though he won't tell the others that in order to rally them properly.

He’s half trying to convince others that Eren is a liar, and half trying to convince himself. Armin just wants to understand, and I relate him.

*clenches fist* A C T I N G

Mikasa is leaving her scarf behind as she heads out for battle. How do you feel about that? 1,251 responses

The scarf coming off is a big moment for Mikasa, and most of us (59.7%) are optimistic that this is the beginning of some great development for her. For others (17.5%) the heartache is just too real. There was quite a bit of hopefulness in the write ins though!

MIKASAAAAAA <3 ok but... she's asking all the right questions!! putting away the scarf!!! thats my baby!!!

I was really excited about the scarf choice! I am not so much a fan of people misinterpreting what the scarf means though... Take a shot everytime you see someone say 'finally some development for mikasa'."

It keeps pushing along the development she has been receiving since the Time Skip. After her conversation with Eren, she more than likely associates it with the Ackerman Bond. Her going out without is a statement that she's truly doing things by own will. Will it be the last time she wears it? I don't think so.

The scarf is her sanctuary and her cage. Leaving it behind is bittersweet and I think the next time she wears it (if she does so) it'll symbolize something totally new.

I want to see Eren's reaction to noticing Mikasa without her scarf

I'm glad that Mikasa decided to leave the scarf behind. She needs to live her life and become strong, independent, smart, mature woman. Being attached to Eren was only stopping her from her own growth. It doesn't matter if Eren was honest while saying about hating her. Mikasa is now opening her eyes and I hope that she will keep moving forward.

Mikasa removing her scarf leads into a perfect segway for Eren wrapping it around her again, as he promised in chapter 50. So I am actually quite excited for that as an Eremika fan, rather than worried.

Chekhov's scarf incoming.

I am more concerned about whatever the hell's going on inside Louise's head as she stares at that scarf.

Louise will take it for one reason or another.

The Marleyan's have new anti-titan rifles. Who will they be used on first? 1,239 responses

The anti-titan guns will no doubt be useful fighting the shifters but a slight majority of the fandom (36.7%) thinks the wine drinkers will be the first victims. 36.4% think they’ll be targeting one of the shifters first.

It’s taken 27 chapters, but Gabi has finally realized the people of Paradis are not devils. How do you feel about her character development? 1,257 responses

Gabi’s been in the story for quite a while now, and has finally come around to the idea that not all the walldians are evil devils. Despite criticism of Gabi being a common sight, the majority of fans, at 37.8%, loved her development and are excited to see what she does next. 27.1% weren’t fans at first but have enjoyed her development, and 23.2% still don’t love her but she’s grown on them. Only 11.9% haven’t enjoyed anything Gabi’s had to offer the narrative.

Feeling validated in my love for Gabi, I'm so glad she finally reached this realisation!!

Granted, Gabi isn't nearly as bad as she was when she started, but her realization came way too late for me to feel anything for her. The damage at this point is already done, so I can't feel anything but complete disdain for her and could care less whether she lives or dies (though it seems like even now a lot of people are still rooting for the latter)

Gabi is best girl.

As expected from Gabi, so obvious and predictible "development " she is the proof that isayama isnt god, becouse everyone do mistakes. Worst manga character

I loved Gabi’s character development. I hope that she’ll do something useful in the next chapters.

I couldn't possibly care less about Gabi's "development". My interest/investment in this series died when Gabi killed Sasha and Isayama started painting the SC as "the bad guys". I didn't sign on for this BS.

I'm glad that Gabi had her moment of realization. It's easy to forget that she's just a child, brought up to believe certain things, and it's coming to that realization that matters the most.

Loved gabi’s character development so so much which i was waiting for. I’d call this chap kind of a heartwarming one in many ways. can’t wait for ch119.

How cute was Falco’s confession? 1,251 responses

In the midst of battle, Falco confesses his feelings to the girl of his dreams, one Gabi Braun. Over half of you (52.1%) gave this confession a 5/5 on the cuteness scale. 25.6% rated 4 cute blushes out of 5, 14.1% were right in the middle at 3, and only 8.3% rated it negatively.

Falco is so pure.... WHAT A GOOD BOY.

Gabi and Falco's scene this chapter really hit me. So much beauty and heart. I feel like the story would miss something without them, aside from their relevance to the plot.

The Gabi-Falco moment wasn't that important to me since I literally just don't feel any particular attachment to the characters, but it WAS important to the story and it needed it happen.

Falco's confession was too cute and pure... oh my god I AM WEAK FOR YOUNG LOVE.

I loved Falco's confession and how him and Gabi were staring at each other at the end of the chapter. They were just so fucking cute.

Wow, for once I found myself having fun with this chapter instead of stressing out. Also, I DIED when Falco confessed to Gabi, that was the cutest scene I've witnessed since 108 and I couldn't have asked for a better birthday chapter. Thanks, Isayama!

Gabi and Falco are getting too much attention but their moments were cute nonetheless.

Falco is sooo cute! Loved that confession scene.

IM OFFICIALLY A GABI STAN, FALCO IS A CUTIE

Is there a chance Falco and Gabi will get married and live happily ever after? 1,260 responses

In a series as upbeat and cheerful as this, a happy ending for a young couple is certain! Right? RIGHT? 45.2% know the series they’re reading and are bracing for the worst form Isayama, and another 36.6% doubt it will end up all rainbows and smiles for this blossoming romance. 14.8% are holding out hope that it’s possible, and only 3.3% don’t think those little snots deserve a shot at happiness.

As cute as Falco's confession was, how is he going to marry Gabi and give her a happy life if he's going to inherit the Armored and then die in 13 years anyway?

Falco's confession was like a drop of purity and innocence in this cruel world. I wish they could live happily. That would be beginning of something new and hopeful.

Now when I say "they don't deserve a happy ending", I'm really just referring to Gabi. Falco deserves nothing but the best.

I'm also glad Gabi is finally awake, idk how I feel about Falco being some weird scapegoat shield foil for her (taking the hits every single time she gets herself into trouble), but I don't think her character development has peaked yet. She's too much of a parallel to Eren to be done already.

Bless Falco, he is just too pure for this cruel world... or maybe he is just what this cruel world needs.

Romances never end well in this series but somehow I hope that this one can come to fruition. I’ll be hurt if Falco actually dies. Maybe that’s what it means to suffer as a braun.

Can't wait for next chapter. PROTECT FALCO, COLT AND GABI AT ALL COST.

When will Zeke scream? 1,246 responses

A solid 35% of the fandom believe Zeke will only scream if he’s totally cornered by enemy troops. Following behind that at 26.4%, respondents feel that he will be doing it immediately in the next chapter. 20.5% think it will happen if and when he is torn out of his titan by an enemy soldier. A small sliver of respondents don’t think it will actually happen.

As soon as he steps on that Lego

Once he notices the people with balck arm bands who are gathered in the front line as pixis ordered, it will be his only salvation... again.

Depends on how bad the interference gets between him and Eren. He panics whenever things don’t go his way and that would be enough of a distraction to reach Eren. Although once they titanise they will also try to eat any surrounding shifters excluding Eren because of Zeke’s influence. It’s a reliable last resort for him.

If Eren gets to him and does his own plan. Once Zeke realizes Eren didn't uphold to the euthanasia plan, he'll scream

The only way he won’t scream is if Armin transforms and turns the tide of the battle. It seems that Zeke is only going to scream as a last resort, but if the battle doesn’t shift back in his favor soon, then he will for sure. I think it’s on Armin at this point.

Not if Eren has a say in it. For all he knows the 104th are still in the building, along with anyone infected that he cares about. If Zeke tries to scream, I feel that Eren will somehow stop him.

Will the Rumbling be activated in this battle? 1,244 responses

66.6% of respondents (is this an omen?) feel that we will at least see a partial rumbling during this battle. 23.4% feel solid about Eren not activated it at all, and the remaining 10% of respondents feel sure that Eren is going to unleash the big guns.

Destroying the world would be too simple. Eren might try to use the wake up call and make people to see that everyone is the same.

I'm still unsure whether this battle will lead to a full or partial rumbling. There are characters who are still missing the call: Kiyomi, Historia, Hitch, Annie…

I don't think Eren is going to activate the rumbling when he touches Zeke. I think he has something else up his sleeve.

Is it wrong that I WANT the Yeagerbros to use the Rumbling? It will basically wipe out the rest of the outside world that has done nothing but persecute Eldians and try to exterminate the protagonists. I see nothing wrong with this 'genocide' plan of theirs.

Eren using the rumbling to destroy the rest of the world makes no sense, especially after what he told Reiner and the fact that it’s what everyone assumes he wants to do.

Zeke is now close enough to titanize those infected by the wine. Do you think he'll do it? 1,251 responses

Reflective of the earlier question about when Zeke will scream (we may not have realized we got a little redundant, oops!), the majority of the fandom believe that Zeke will definitely titanize the wine infected Eldians in the area. A small 11% have faith that he won’t do it.

Zeke stop being such a retard already and let's get to the good stuff! The rumbling the scream! Come on dude!

I both want Zeke to scream for cool storytelling but I don’t because I love the people who would be affected

Zeke screaming is too predictable, same with falco becoming a titan shifter, I will be a little disappointed if isayama does that

Is this the final battle? 1,252 responses

While a third feel that this is climactic enough to constitute the finale, a clear majority (68.1%) feel certain that there is still more to come after this battle

This can’t be the final arc because it doesn’t really feel like the strongest arc. Isayama would make the final arc amazing

We're in the endgame now

If this is really the final battle I worry it'll be rushed. Mikasa only just started her development to "get free" from Eren and Armin still hasn't lived up to Erwin's legacy. Then there's Hange and Levi, who I still hope to see in action again. Same for Annie. If we don't get to see female titan in action one last time, I'll be disappointed. Not sure how can that happen, since she's still back in Wall Sheena (and I hoped Armin would see her wake up), but please...

Prediction time! Death flags are everywhere, who do you think will die in this battle?

Unlike the other groups in this section of the poll, a few hundred people chose not to make any selections for the Survey Corps, expressing confidence that they will all survive this battle.

When we look at combined results, the death flags are waving most prominently for Floch (741 votes), the senior military (650), Reiner (598), Connie (594), Porco (588), and Yelena (583).

Senior Military 1,196 responses

When Nile waved goodbye at Falco, it wasn't just meant for him. It was also meant for us. This chapter really felt like this is the last we will see of Nile as a human. The next time we see him, he will be a Titan for sure.

My heart breaks for Keith. He also drank from the wine, so he´s a goner? What do you guys think?

Survey Corps 916 responses

As much as I love Jean, it really hurts me that I chose him and Connie as the next characters in the Survey Corps that will die, because it feels like they will. I really hope I'm wrong.

Connie will die soon, mark my words.

I didn't really catch any death flags for the survey corps? Maybe hange or levi but that's it

Jaegerists/Volunteer 1,133 responses

if floch dies next chapter many extremely manly tears may be shed for that lovable nutter

Can Zeke just die? It's been 3 times he survived from death. It makes it predictable

I don't want Zeke to die, I don't want Zeke to be betrayed by Eren. Eren, please... My heart is breaking.

Marleyans 1,150 responses

I have huge soft spots for both Nile and Falco and am in denial about their eventual fate :(

pieck must never die

I hope Reiner doesn't join Berthold just yet

reiner must die

It’s really great seeing Pieck get more spotlight, now all I need is her last name, and I can accept her probable death

If my boi Reiner were to die I'd drop the manga

Which titan power do you think Falco will inherit? 1,204 responses

Will all of Falco’s warrior training pay off now that he’s in a situation where he might become a titan? The most popular option at 55.4% is that he’ll inherit Reiner’s armored titan. 26.7% don’t think he’ll end up becoming a shifter at all. The Jaw and Beast were the next most popular choices, at 7.9% and 6.9% respectively.

The stage is set for Falco to inherit Reiner's titan.

I know the prevailing theory is that Falco will eat Reiner and get his power (and it'll probably happen too) but something about letting a kid inherit Ymir's curse all over again doesn't quite sit right with me. Like what Eren said: Falcon deserves a long life too. But I guess it's better than being titanized by Zeke's scream and shot by one of those guns.

No Colossus option? C'mon.

What would you most like to see next chapter? 1,219 responses

Levi and Hange top the wish list with just over one fourth of the fandom (21.7%) hoping for an update on their condition. Eren and Zeke touching is second (17.6%) and Eren noticing his friends in the fray is third (16.2%).

Annie will reappear, DRINKS ON ME

I fucking hope Eren and Zeke touch bc damn this chapter seemed to be so short and we’ve been eating for so long.

Glad to see Jean mentioning Levi & Hange, makes me expect (and fear) that they will be included in the next chapter.

Hange and Levi plz

I hope we can get a glimpse of Eren's thought. I need his perspective more, more than anyone else's. And last but not least, Levi's condition.

I'm excited to see the gang join the battle

I'm genuinely at a point where this whole 'mystery MC motives' thing is making me want to drop the series for a while. Please just rip the bandaid off if Eren is going to be a legit ~villain~ or whatever, stop dragging this out for so long.

With this being the last chapter of the current volume now would be a perfect time to check in on levi and hange's conditions and perhaps could pace the way for some good angsty chapters that eventually lead to them two coming into this battle with a brilliant game changing fighting strategy (maybe some hange backstory too if we are lucky enough like cmon its the final arc and hanges the only main cast that hasnt had any hint of a background)

Eren and Zeke touching lol phrasing

At this point, around which chapter do expect the manga will conclude? 1,163 responses

Not a whole lot has changed here since last month, but we had a slight increase in the percentage of respondents that think 130 or 134 will be the final chapter of the manga. The percentage of people who believe the manga will continue to chapter 138 or beyond has stayed about the same. Similarly, the people who think the manga will end at chapter 122 or 126 are hanging in there - and it doesn’t seem like they have been convinced otherwise.

Where do you primarily discuss the series? 1,141 responses

While Reddit and Tumblr hold steady, Facebook has been making tiny gains in recent months. Thank you again to everyone who participated, regardless of what platform you are on! If you are on an underrepresented platform, please feel free to share the poll there.

Additional thoughts on the chapter?

Some of you have never been brainwashed by an evil regime and it shows.

I ache for Nile, we misjudged him, he is such a sweetheart with his three little girls! <3 I have a bad feeling he'll die, but I really, really hope he survives this, because from *his* original trio, he's the only one left. Mike and Erwin are gone. :(

A lot of people think Armin only function in this arc is just to blow up and follow Eren's game but I think he is going to become the third option in this conflict, as soon he confirms his fears about Eren true intentions with rumbling.

As for the titan serum wine victims, maybe they won't be affected if they don't hear Zeke's scream if they cover their ears hard enough

AVENGE YOUR SISTER, KAYA! DESTROY THE HATED ONE!

Eren is a shit. Who puts his friends and family of dead friend into a prison together with potential titans? If someone from Sasha's family dies because they were locked in Shingashina, Eren will be officially the worst person ever and I will root for his terrible and painful death.

Eren looked so pretty in that last panel

EREN PLEASE- DO SOMETHING. SAVE THE KIDDOS.

Finally the story is starting to progress again after months of nothing really happening that builds the story. Finally we are getting answers without getting anymore questions. This is a lot less infuriating than previous chapters have been.

i feel like there is going to be a lot of deaths tho since we are in for a large scale battle, mainly with all the people that consumed the wine. but i still think Hizuru will come into play here and in a dangerous way.

I just hope a happy ending for everyone (or most of them) but knowing isayama, I will read happy endings only in fanfiction

I like Gabi now

I hope Mikasa realizes she’s NOT a slave and Eren’s Ackerman talk was bullshit. Ackermans are the most free ppl in this series

I wish for Eren not to turn like a villain, I want him to keep his same goals from the very beginning and save his friends, the Eldians, and unite them with Marley all together. I hope he can team up with Reiner and defeat Zeke. Most of all, I would like Mikasa to break her bonds she has with Eren and live for herself. And for Armin, to free Annie with the help of the Survey Corps and Reiner with Porco together so that Annie could fight on the right side for once, then return home peacefully.

If Armin isn't lying I'll eat one (1) entire issue of Bessatsu Shounen Magazine.

It didn’t focus as much on the fights as last time, focusing more on how the characters are being affected by the fight

It was amazing and it felt a bit more hopeful than the other chapters. But since it is supposed to be the last arc, something big will happen for sure and i am not ready XD!

Mikasa does not wear the protective shields. Foreshadowing? My Eekstinct tells me she is going to be injured in this battle and then Kiyomi makes a move that shock everyone, drags Mikasa away and keeps her promise of protecting her. And then Hizuru arc begins EEEEEEEEK

Needs more Annie and Historia but still a 10/10. Should be 11/10 though.

One of the greatest cliffhangers ever. It created such a conflicting feeling in me. If Zeke doesn't die asap, he is going to scream. If he does, Eren won't be able to activate the rumbling to defeat Marley. It's two terrible results.

People could use some pointers from Yelena and stop looking at Eren as this messiah-like figure who is here to bring world peace or balance or any of that stuff. Eren doesn't fight for the world, he never did. He fights for the freedom of him and his people and if flattening the earth gets him that then so be it. After all, he will keep moving forward, until his enemies are destroyed.

Probably my favorite chapter out of the last year! I thought it was going to be more action heavy but there were so many touching character moments and I absolutely loved it for taking its time to touch on almost everyone

This is like the 4th time in 5 chapters that Zeke is on the brink of death and my poor heart can only take so much ;-;

Unpopular Opinion (don't kill me), I feel that Pieck is such a Mary Sue. I get that she is highly skilled among the Warriors, but she has seriously only had one "mistake" since her introduction (Panzer Unit explosion). Other Warriors such as Reiner, Bortolo Colon, even Zeke have suffered multiple beat downs throughout the story. I just want her to not feel as invincible at times, as it seems she's always one step ahead.

We’ve heard little to nothing about Eren’s philosophy and state of mind since after the time jump (and even after the RTS arc ended), I think we’re in for some info soon enough

Yelena is the representation of all the creepy fangirls who just wanna protecc their otp change my mind

Well, if I wasn't right about anything else, I was right in that shit has completely gone down. Probably one of my favorite chapters in the whole manga.

With so many airships this month cant we just rename Attack on Titan to Attack on Airships ? :D

#snk spoilers #snk poll #snk polls #poll results

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blueoswin · 5 years

Text

Let’s make him jealous!

Summary : Eliott went back to Lucille. However Lucas can't forget him. For now he just has to try to get over him, even if the boys want to push them back together. They all come up with an awesome plan ( their words) in order to do so. Well Emma does : making Eliott jealous. How ? By hiting on Lucas obnoxiously. Too much for his taste. And for Eliott's as well.

Or : Eliott is sad raccoon pining from afar. Lucas is grumpy, Emma is a snake and the boys are elu stans #1.

_________

Chapter 4

_________

Eliott has been losing his mind for a few days now trying to find the right words to tell Lucas everything he needs to know . He longs to simply go talk to him, snatch his boy from Valentin's arms and make up, go back to the way they were before he ruined everything, possibly forever. He can't keep his stomach from churning whenever he sees them together, which is always. Feeling like throwing up from nerves has become a habit by now. The worst part is that Eliott never paid attention to the boy before, his focus solely devoted to Lucas but now, Valentin is the only person always in his eyesight at school. Hell they even share some classes together. Eliott is sat right behind him in his English Lit Class which he has never noticed before. Mme Lecureuil, his teacher has even asked him to stay after class to talk the previous week. She tought he's been quite distracted lately, how surprising. Funnily enough, it seems like Lucas has a type for Lit boys.

Eliott has been sneaking cute drawings in his boy's backpack, hoping Lucas would understand. Giving the complete silence from the other one, he's figured that he either didn't get his drawings or he simply didn't care. Putting his feelings into words was the last resort it seems, his last hope in a way. Unfortunately for him, Eliott never was a good poet, as soon as he catches a glimpse of messy brown hair, all his sharp wit and clever words seem to vanish into thin air. Sat at his desk in front of a new sheet of paper, Eliott is pulling his hair out trying to find the right words for his apology letter. Why are apologies so difficult?

He has been writing, writing, writing again since two hours already. In vain. None of these pathetic letters are able to express his true feelings. Screwed as he is he might as well stick to drawing his apology. But even through yet another drawing, he has no clue where to start. The ever growing pile of crumpled papers next to his chair is the proof. Frustrated, he decides to go for a walk, get out of his bedroom . He pities the fact that he can't actually go out, he'll have to make do with the hallways of the school. Classes are over at this time of the day so the hallways are eerily empty, setting a strange atmosphere.

All for the best, Eliott wants to be alone with his thoughts for once. He's tired of running away from them. Since he met Lucas, he's the only thing that matters. His thoughts revolve solely around him so he's not surprise when his mind goes back to the blank page on his deck, his apology letter still unwritten. He wants to see Lucas so bad, hold him tight in his arm, he can feel the craving for skin on skin contact, the whispered sweet nothing, the hushed promises, the deep thoughts in the dark of the night, the shared secrets, the intimacy, the connection, he misses everything Lucas related. Dearly. He wants to raise up to the challenge the boy gave him before leaving the cafeteria with Valentin, who now spends each seconds of his free time glued to Lucas, ever so tactile. Eliott can't blame the boy, knowing he'd be the same if their positions were reversed. Lucas is too precious, deserves all the love in the world. In a sense he is happy for him, seeing all his friends be supportive, simply being there for him melts Eliott's heart. Nonetheless, the nagging voice at the back of his mind has the depressing habit of repeating him that he's moved on, he's forgotten about you, he's better without you. Lucas is over you. This is your fault.

He shakes his head, taking control over his mind again. Hugo's word are still ringing in his ears.

Lucas hasn't moved on, he's trying to make you jealous.

Well his plan was working just fine in this area. However, he has a hard time believing it given how Lucas and the other boy were so close, in tune with each other, Casual intimacy were the first words to come to mind when you looked at them. This sort of intimacy is really difficult to develop, unless...

Unless you're in love.

The little voice inside his head keeps repeating those words on loop, but thank god his heart is bursting with hope for once instead of dread. Lucas has taught him not to give up, not to settle, to chase after his happiness and Lucas was his happy place . A fond smile plays on his lips, he has shared so many intimate moments with Lucas, precious memories he'll always cherish that he can't believe Lucas could wipe their relationship out in such a short amount of time, finding a rebound was even more improbable, not typical Lucas behaviour at all.

Without him noticing, Eliott's feet has brought him to the common room. Where it all started, where Lucas had acknowledge him for the first time.He remembers how the boy kept glancing at him during the first reunion, trying (and failing) to be subtle. He remembers when they locked eyes for the first time, the shiver that ran through his whole body, he had almost winked just to see how the other boy would react, he remembers how incredibly hard it had been not to stare right back everytime Lucas looked his way, he remembers the hard time he had trying to repress tiny smiles throughout their silent exchange, he remembers Imane sly smile, her eyes going back and forth between the two of them, carefully watching their game of push and pull. Thankfully, she was the only one who had noticed.

He almost passes by the common room, not trusting himself not to burst immediately into tears if he goes in. He starts walking again, having stared at the closed door for too long already not to seem sketchy, should someone stumble upon him. Through the surrounding darkness, a yellow line catches his eyes. A sliver of golden light is coming through the doorway. Eliott frowns.

Weird. Usually the common room is empty by now.

Before he can regret his decision, Eliott steps forward, breathing deeply as he turns the doorknob to open the door and steps in, squinting his eyes against the sudden light. Looking around the room, his gaze comes to a stop on the awful mural, still waiting to be painted over. His project, their project. A slight movement at the corner of his left eye makes him jump. Trying to calm his erratic heartbeat, he turns his head to find out where it has come from. He's taken aback, his eyes setting on a frail silhouette looking through the window, half engulfed by the darkness. The only source of light is provided by a dimly lamp in the corner of the room. The silhouette hasn't moved again; yet, completely unaware of the presence of another being behind them. Squinting his eyes, Eliott takes cautious silence steps, coming closer on order to get a better look, being careful not to make his presence known, not yet. He stubs his toe against the small table of the room and almost curses out loud. Suffering in silence, step after step, watching where he puts his feet now mind you, he gets close enough to discern the ourlines of the silhouette. He takes his time and really look.

Judging by his posture, his shoulders squared, hands clenched, head held high, the boy, at least Eliott assumes the silhouette belongs to a boy, is tensed, really really tensed. He seems deep in thoughts, looking at the sun setting through the large windows, casting mixing shades of blue and rose on the walls. Eliott creeps closer, slowly, he's so close he can discern the features of the now not-so-anonymous person in the reflection of the window.

His heart skips a beat, rhythm accelerating erratically once again although not for the same reasons at the sight of his face. The face he's allowed himself to admire only from afar for two weeks. He's missed this face so much it sometimes hurt. His eyes are still shut, earbuds in his ears, isolating him from the outside world, lost in the music. Eliott does a once over, taking him all in, his rosy cheeks, his sharp jawline he once left some marks on, his strechted out neck, his squared shoulders, his slim waist, his elegant legs. Eliott has always thought he could have been a dancer with legs like his. Perhaps he was, in one of his parallel universes. He's still beautiful. In all his universes his beauty will always be the only immuable constant. Eliott stares until his heart aches, until his fingers are twitching with the need to touch, to extend his arm and take his hand in his. A shaky exhale leaves his lungs.

Open your eyes. Please please please. Open your eyes.

Eliott is internally begging him, even though he's no telepath. Finally, after what feels like an eternity but is probably only a few minutes, his eyes slowly open, eyelashes fluttering. His features seem more relaxed, until he gazes up at the second silhouette in the window. He doesn't even bat an eye. His eyes become sharper, ocean blue turning into ice. He reminds Eliott of a statue, every fiber of his being tenses up. He doesn't turn around though. The night has set, he can't notice anything except for the reflection of their bodies, familiar to each other and yet unknown. Eliott takes a deep breath, coming closer until he's only a few centimeters behind the boy. The need to touch only becomes stronger, his fingers tingling, longing to reach out. His reflection is clearer, the window acting as a mirror in which Eliott's eyes meet deep blue ones he would recognize anywhere.

Lucas.

His boy doesn't seem happy to see him. For five agonizing minutes, Eliott thinks he's going to simply ignore him, either close his eyes again or walk past him, leaving him alone in the empty room. He inhales deeply, preparing himself for whatever Lucas decides to do. It's all up to him now, but Eliott fears he won't be able to handle his rejection. All the oxygen still present in his lungs leave his body when the boy turns around, staring him down with what can only be defined as dormant fury. He swallows laboriously, biting back a whimper.

I'm screwed.

#elu fic #elu fanfic #lucas x eliott fanfic #lucas x eliott #skam france #Lucas Lallemant #eliott demaury #okay I'm nervous about this one #I don't know why #i hope you enjoy it

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caroline18mars · 6 years

Text

A Man On Fire - Chapter 7

“Wait, you're flying to New York and then straight back the next day..for a painting? Really? Come on Jay, even for a quick lay, which is probably the real reason you're going back, that's just ridiculous! No wait, it's not, I'd do the same if it was Sean, we had the most amazing night..” Shayla got lost in her daydream “Anyway,..Is she nice? Come on, you can tell me!” she plopped down next to him on the bed, patting his leg. “Oh no no, no details of you and Sean, thank you very much! And she's not a quick lay..” Jared got up but Shayla cut him off, “Ha! 'she' so it is a girl!” and clapped her hands, “oh shut the fuck up! So what if the artist is a woman? Were you born in the dark ages?” he snapped as he zipped up his bag “besides I've never seen her or spoken to her, we're only corresponding by e-mail”. Shayla cocked her head “e-mail? Really? How old is she? 70? talk about the dark ages” she huffed, rolling her eyes, “for the last time, Shayla, get your mind out of the gutter for once, this is business, now let's go see if we have a LED- wall or not, and make sure my bag gets to the airport tonight” this bubblehead really had no idea, 70? whatever! A breath of fresh air with immense talent that's what Coco was, could this day be over and done with so he could get on that plane? He had a blind date...no no no..not a blind date, just a date with someone he had never seen before, how oldskool was that? Oldskool and so refreshing in this day and age of selfies, social media and instant gratification! “Will you just focus? Fuck's sake” Harper yelled at herself, and let her brush fall in frustration, the fuck was going on? She hadn't been able to concentrate on anything all day, just step away from the painting before you fuck it up completely, call him, get it the fuck out of your system and just CALL him! Yeah, that was exactly what she was gonna do! A loud crack as she jumped off the scaffolding, maybe next time if she was lucky she would break her neck! No, nope, no wallowing, ok now what? She shuffled around the table, like she was doing some sort of rain dance, eyeing the phone with a disgust on her face, will you just do it? What are you? A woman or a mouse? Before she could think about what she was doing, the phone was against her ear, but before it rang she pulled it away again and disconnected the call..would he know? That she called? pouring herself a cup of coffee, she sat down at her table, staring at the phone that she twirled around with one hand while she sipped her coffee slowly.

From: HCDeRobanio

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Life is no pony camp

Joe,

Are you happy, Joe? I don't mean the average 'yeah I'm ok' kind of happy, but the genuine, deeply rooted in your gut kind of happy that washes over you at least once a week when you stop and see or do something that makes you think: “I am utterly and deeply happy and content with what or who I have in my life or who I am” kind of happy? Does that feeling actually exist? Or is it just a chemical reaction in your brain, kinda like all these endorphines and what not that create a runner's high? Are you where you want to be in life, Joe? Bouddhists say that life's a journey, but I think I've missed a turn somewhere along the way, to me life is a free fall from birth till death and there are no safety nets, all you can do is hope that you stumble across people who'll break your fall, do you have people like that in your life? Who break your fall once in a while? I hope you do..

I'm sorry for all this ranting, but my trust in humankind is at an all time low (I just tried to call my Dad but I chickened out, we don't have what you could call a healthy relationship, he just cut me out of his will, well not his will, although I'm sure I'm out of that too, I've got a letter saying he's cutting me off financially while I never got any support from him, not financially and definitely not emotionally, long story, bla bla, the black sheep of the family, rebelled against everything my family stood for while my older sister is the apple of my father's eye with her 500 kids and being the perfect housewife..bleggghh not interesting at all) so I can't begin to tell you how much I look forward to meeting you..I just feel I can trust you!

Maybe I've been inhaling too many paintfumes and that's probably why I'm in this funk I'm in, so I'm gonna get something to eat and then it's off to bed and then tomorrow I'll see you! Yay!

Have a safe flight!

P.S. I'll have your painting all wrapped by tomorrow, ok?

Regards

Furious Coco

“Got everything? Your bag is on the plane, hotel is booked..so, I'll see you in a day or three, ok? Or probably sooner if she turns out to be really ugly and 70 after all” Shayla handed him his carry-on and tickets with a giggle, “whatever Shayla, just make absolutely sure I get my daily updates , alright? And keep Shannon in the loop will ya? You've got the details of the promoter too, right?” Jared tried to connect all the dots, happy thoughts on, control freak off. “Will you just go, I've got everything under control here” she sighed as Jared followed her stare and turned to see Sean standing there, grinning at her beside the car parked on the tarmac. “Just don't get too distracted, ok? I don't want to be looking for a new PA when I get back” he mumbled at her and then turned on his heels and hopped on up the steps of the private jet. 'Beep' and his heart skipped a beat, he hadn't been able to send her an answer to her last e-mail all day, but he had 8 hours to read, re-read and answer her e-mails, if anyone ever prayed for wifi on a plane then it was him right now.

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Re: Life is no pony camp

Coco,

I'm high above the clouds right now..I'm on my way to see you..in 8 to 10 hours or so..excited much? I sure am!

Ah, Daddy issues (not meant in a kinky way), I don't know if I'm the one to talk about stuff like that, I mean, I grew up without my actual father (I did have and still have a wonderful father figure though) so I don't really know or have experience with these kind of issues. I just thought of something, correct me if I'm wrong, but is that older man in your painting your Dad? I think I understand the ripped out heart and the sown up lips now..

I'll say this one thing though: your Dad is a real wanker if he cuts off his own flesh and blood, why don't you discuss this with me in detail tomorrow?

Ha no, I'm not the CEO of M&M's, I am the CEO of a couple of companies that are completely built around my dreams, and it's exactly those dreams that take me around the world. So yeah, I guess the answer to your question is that I'm a happy man, even though my job takes its' toll on my personal life..even though I'm surrounded by people almost every second of every day, I too can feel so alone in a crowd, not many people get me..except for you! I'm already dreading the day I have to fly back to Europe even if I haven't met you yet..

Listen to me, you're not a sheep, you're not a pony, you're totally unique! And on that thought I'm going to sleep away the couple of hours that seperate us so I'm not jetlagged out of my head in the city that never sleeps, which I hope you're doing too right now and sweet dreams are chasing those angry cobwebs in your head away.

Regards

Joe

Jared 1 – Shayla 0! 70? where did that silly assistant of his get those ideas from? Coco was young enough to still have a father, and old enough to have her own career and be his peer, but what had struck him was that rebellious streak he loved so much, a 'go-against-the-grain' kinda girl/woman, just the way he liked them! E-mail sent, goodnight Europe! Hello New York in a couple of hours, but first sleep, so he was on top of his game for when they were finally eye to eye.

This? Or maybe that top on those oversized pants with the camouflage print? Wait, what about a dress? Really? When you haven't worn one in years? Why conform to something as ridiculous as society's opinion on what women were supposed to wear? She put the dress back on the rack, today was all about being herself, feeling comfortable in what she wore was of the essence on this day where things were more than likely going to be awkward. What time was it? 1PM, time for a shower, get dressed and get on her way. The wheels of the plane finally connected with the tarmac, New York was dreary and windy, great, hoodie weather was his favorite season anyway, everybody dressed better as soon as the temperature dropped, there simply was more mistery, more to guess instead of more too see. What time was it? The screen of his phone remained dark, what?..no, no way, no more juice, fuck!. “The Bowery Hotel, please” he mumbled at the driver as he hopped in the waiting car, 2 o'clock, alright, time enough to charge this frikking phone and take a shower. Battledress pants, her sturdy Dr. Martens on her feet, a band T-shirt, hoodie and her leather bikerjacket, she looked at her reflection in the window of the moving train, all the paint neatly scrubbed away, except for the eyeliner, bright red lipstick and her nails painted black, her signature colour. 'Times Square Station', right, she got up and stepped off the train right in the hussle and bussle of the subway station, up the stairs where New York was raging. Rain, nice, she quickly pulled her hoodie up as she checked the time, 3PM, alright, more than enough time for a coffee to calm her rattling nerves. Within an hour, it was all gonna happen, what was she gonna say when he arrived? 'Hi, I'm Coco', “Hi, I'm Harper Coco', no Coco was better, 'nice to meet you', 'so we finally meet', she caught herself rehearsing her introduction, and giggled at her own silliness as she walked inside Starbucks.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fanficton #fic #30 seconds to mars #30 seconds to mars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 7 #Harper Coco #Harper #new story #carolne18mars

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bastardrobocop · 5 years

Text

on fallout 76

so, because im a fool i pre ordered fallout 76. frankly, i was going to buy it on release anyway because im starved for anything fallout and new california was a complete bust.

anyway, this means i have had access to the “B.E.T.A.”, which isn’t really a beta. it’s just server stress tests. i’ve done every pc round so far and i feel like i can say pretty conclusively that it’s just not very good.

sorry, this is going to be a long meandering post

i dont know if its something they can fix in the like, week before they launch the game, but the delay/latency/feel is so fucking whack it’s unbelievable. the multiplayer fallout new vegas mod feels like it has better netcode. in addition, it is dreadfully optimized. i play on a laptop, so maybe take my perspective with a grain of salt, but i’m not the only one who has pointed this out. i use an nvidia 970m, which runs fallout 4 at around 50/60 frames per second. fallout 76 tops out at around 10-30 on average. just wandering the world, the framerate is atrocious. performance is best in small interior cells and in wide open spaces with nothing in it. in more dense and enemy populated areas, the game stutters hard. more than once ive had the game freeze for several seconds during a firefight. its honestly inexcusably bad most of the time. with poor latency and framerate chugging, the gameplay experience is trying. it makes literally everything painful, including just inventory management and crafting.

the gameplay itself isnt too awful in that its just fallout 4 again but without the pretense of minimal rpg elements. performance problems can make some engagements suck, but most common enemies aren’t too hard. however, the real nasty ones that are higher level than you can be nigh on impossible to take down solo, which sucks because my friends arent always available and dealing with online randos is always bad. but it’s also the only way to get like, good weapons. but anyway, the core gameplay loop is almost the same. i say almost because the ‘workshop’ storage is your only storage. and it has a 400lb limit. which takes into account anything you put in it. this should seem like an obvious issue; you basically cant afford to store things if you gather valuable resources. im currently stuck carrying this big fucking rocket launcher which is useless right now because i dont have any inventory space for missiles, which weigh a ton. also, ammo has weight now. and you can’t scrap ammo for ammo parts like gunpowder or lead. and you can’t sell ammo either. so instead you just have to like, dump hundreds of rounds just on the ground since you can’t store them in the workshop because you need space for steel and adhesive and that M2 Browning that you can’t use yet but want to hold onto because it looks bitchin. however, you can bulk scrap with plastic, which reduces weight by about half. however, therein lies another problem; plastic becomes a precious resource because you can’t make a bulk pile of wood without it for some reason. plastic is currently more precious than literal gold. still, you get stuck holding a bunch of valuable scrap in your inventory which you can’t put into your stash because it’s full and you can’t go out and find more plastic because then you’ll be over-encumbered and you cant afford to drop this circuit board and you can’t build any more things in your camp because the budget is painfully low and even when you DO get enough plastic to bulk things the bulked stuff goes into your inventory and wont necessarily fit back into the stash and i’m still carrying this fucking missile launcher please god let me put down this missile launcher please oh please god

the ui is a disaster. it’s like they turned 4′s console/gamepad control scheme and doubled down on it; on pc, random keys are bound to multiple things and then also bound to a separate key, and you can’t re-bind things individually. so that means middle mouse is both ‘open favorite item wheel’ and ‘enter third person’ and ‘enter build mode’ when there’s also V which is also ‘enter third person’. you cannot change this. there will always be one button for this. there is still no separate binding for bash and grenade throw, of course. if you press escape, it opens the map. if you press m, it opens the map. to open the pause menu with things like ‘options’ and ‘microtransaction store’ and ‘quit the game’, you have to open the map with either escape or M and then press Z. there is no direct button to take you to the pause menu, as far as i can tell. when you go up to a workbench, there are three options; E to craft, R to scrap, Space to repair and modify. from this menu, if you want to scrap an item, you must mouse over it, and then select it. however, DO NOT MOVE THE MOUSE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. even if the prompt is open and asking if you want to scrap, say, a pump action shotgun, if you mouse over and the highlight moves over to your only power armor chest piece, it will scrap the power armor chest piece. even though it was asking if you wanted to scrap the shotgun. its potentially one of the most hostile interfaces ive ever seen. the bindings for ‘scrap mode’ and ‘scrap item’ in different menus also change. if i’m in the repair menu, G scraps an item. if i’m in scrap mode, spacebar does. the only good thing ive seen so far is the favorite wheel and also you can set it so you can see through your pip boy background while browsing it.

the world feels desolate and boring. the lack of human npc interaction has been replaced with finding some dead persons holotape. there are robots. there is at least one AI. but all the questgivers are pieces of paper, holotapes, or voices on a radio. sometimes it’s a robot. you don’t actually interact though. there’s no interaction beyond listening and being told what to do. while im bitching about how the world feels, lets talk about factions. bethesda has kind of casually hyped up factions as being some kind of meaningful, cool choice. they’re literally nothing. there is no indication to other players what faction you are in. you can join every faction and reach top rank in every faction. you cant see if anyone is a member of your faction unless theyre in your faction specific base. there is no inter-faction conflict, there are very few faction quests aside from random events, and once you’re done with the main faction quest, you’re basically done for good except for repeatable ones. i honestly expected factions to be a meaningful choice, which was probably my mistake. i was hoping it would force you to commit to your current faction once you joined it, or would prompt you to abandon another faction in order to join a new one. but there’s just nothing. i was expecting something like, i dunno, destinys faction thing. like joining new monarchy. and maybe butting heads with members of other factions, like i figured the Brotherhood faction would be my enemy if i joined the enclave. but it’s just nothing. the world is nothing, the quests are nothing, everything just feels pointless.

this is also a personal gripe, but there are like no energy weapon alternatives to small guns aside from the errant laser pistol, but ammo is extremely rare. the only new energy weapon i’ve seen so far is the plasma gatling, which is a big gun. otherwise, it’s just the crappy pistol/rifle converting laser and plasma rifle. no plasma pistol, just a pistol conversion. no laser pistol, just a pistol conversion. i’ve always loved energy weapons and just like. not getting any variety while guns and melee weapons get tons of variety is grating. there are many new ballistic weapons that look neat. the 10mm smg is back, and i am admittedly fond of it. however, 10mm ammo is painfully rare. i spend basically all my lead making more ammo for it. i can kind of get by with my laser pistol and my shotgun always makes up however much ammo i lose because a lot of enemies use shotguns, but my 10mm just goes up in smoke and there’s none to be found elsewhere. there’s a shocking amount of .308 because almost every early/mid enemy uses a hunting rifle, but i guess it makes sense because the big MG-32 thing takes .308 so they want you to be able to use it when the time comes. still, i’d rather be using an energy weapon. i want like. a recharger pistol. or the plasma rifle with all the tubes. or a pulse gun. just like. anything other than the ugly aer9 pistol conversion. i think the folks down at bethesda just dont like energy weapons very much; theyre leaps and bounds less viable than small guns.

the enemies look okay. instead of raiders, you have the Scorched. they’re Marked Men, but weaker and also a cult formed by radioactive bats. there are super mutants, because bethesda cant be bothered to go outside of the comfort zone of Things People Recognize and also they hate lore i guess. the wild animals are kind of fun. theres a big toad that looks cute, and frogs that have MASSIVE arms that they run on, which looks funny. theyre small though. things like the mothman and snallygaster look neat. the flatwoods monster is okay. the grafton bastard is big and kind of easy to cheese out. there is a monster named after a flawed and racist interpretation of indigenous beliefs. theres a big sloth, who i love. the mole men (called mole miners) are intimidating and ANNOYINGLY precise with shotguns. they’re later game enemies and very aggressive. they drop a neat looking unarmed weapon that ive been using, called a mole miner gauntlet. it’s like a power fist with big claws. there’s a big bee called a honeybeast. ive basically covered all of the new monsters, though. everything else is from fallout 4 and dlcs. this includes things like anglers, which had obviously evolved on far harbor along with the lure plant so it doesnt make sense for them to be there, and gulpers which are big salamanders so i guess that’s more okay. there are swarms of bees that are just he same repeated png of a bee, spinning around. oh yeah, there are a couple new insect types; ticks and fireflies. both use the animations of the radroach and bloatfly, respectively.

solo play can be kind of boring and difficult. most randos you meet will either ignore you or call you a slur and run away. ive only had one guy break into my house and i murdered him. however, even though he had a bounty on his head, he was still allowed to get ‘revenge’ on me which meant he could spawn right next to me and this time he had a power armor suit, so he killed me a couple times before logging out to avoid my wrath. coward. if you’re out there dude, i’ll kick your ass. also, quick note about the bounty system; its kinda rough around the edges. i tried to save someones garden by shooting a ghoul that was stomping their flowers in the back. however, my shot somehow curved around him at point blank and broke a blackberry bush. from then on, i had a 20 cap bounty on my head. i had to hide from people in my secret enclave bunker and get my friend to kill me so i could perceive other people on the map again and also not live in fear of every tom dick and larry with a power armor frame and a bad attitude.

i feel like i should wrap up. fallout 76 is not very good, but if they can work out performance and latency it wouldnt be too bad for just dicking around with friends. in terms of being like, a fallout game, it’s worse than 4. i haven’t gotten into story spoilers, but its not great. and it feels remarkably desolate for a game thats advertised as being a cool time with your buds. maybe itll be better when there are more people playing. i dunno. its just not very good. i dont recommend it.

#long post #fallout 76 #i just want a good post apocalyptic role playing game #is that too much to ask

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