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#they were quite literally made for each other!
lettersofalover · 3 days
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-> adore you | paige b
paige x black!fem!college!athlete reader
genre: fluff
authors note: she’s for the girls and yall go together. read bad
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from the moment you woke up in your hotel room next to paige until now, about to step on to the espy’s red carpet, you were anxious. you were a famous athlete in your own regard but the spotlight had never quite been on you the way it was now - helping team usa win gold, setting a personal record and a uconn record, all while being in a loving private relationship with paige. everyone knew but nobody told. the athletes at uconn had each others backs and without a doubt, paige had yours. she popped candy into her mouth mindlessly as you got your hair and makeup done in the chair. “when you get on stage, not if but when,” she said matter of factly, “there’s going to be a countdown. don’t pay it any mind. just say what you want. literally, whatever. except curse words, they’ll fine conn for that.”
you couldn’t help having paige’s voice echo through your head, somehow drowning out the noise of the photographers. it was already a sunny day in california and the size of lights made you struggle to keep your eyes open. paige was coming behind you and suddenly all the photographers focus was on the both of you. the speculation had always been there, but there wasn’t any concrete proof. paige shot you a big smile and an awkward thumbs up and you covered your mouth to laugh. the shouts of the photographers were so deafening you couldn’t make out what they were saying until paige approached you and locked her fingers with yours: “they want us to take photos together.” she whispered in your ear before dropping your hand. the moment her hand left yours, the comfort was lost.
“just focus on something in the distance.” she whispered and wrapped an arm around you gingerly. you leaned into her touch, thankful to have her by your side. the contrast of your outfits made for a subtle declaration of your relationship. as the moments passed of you switching between a wide smile and a soft one, paige stopped the photographers for a moment and stood in front of you.
“what?” you mumbled, scared that you had done something wrong. did you look too cozy? was it obvious that you were dating? you were beginning to breath harder as paige reached up to fix your hair.
“wait let me fix your hair.” she mumbled, with her eyes focused on your delicately designed hairstyle. she was taking the job of fixing you so seriously that she had her tongue slightly out of her mouth in the process. “i think i got it,” she said turning away but immediately turned back, “one last thing, hold on.” she smiled and twirled of on the curls around her finger and it immediately came back to life.
“good?” you asked and the flutter of lights and the shutters of cameras began again. paige grasped your forearms and nodded.
“you look stunning.” she said loud and proud before facing the photographers once more.
they didn’t sit you with paige and it depleted your spirit. you kept calm conversation with the people surrounding you - a few athletes, an executive board member from uconn and other old men who were keen on getting you to explain your tennis career and why you hadn’t gone professional yet.
“i love uconn, my family is there, my team is there, even my girl- my best friend is there.” you corrected yourself. they all nodded in understanding but one of the more assertive man said, “you know college is always there. you should go while you’re still in your prime. you can get the money and find a nice husband while you do so.” he sipped his champagne with a smile that was confident - as if he gave you the most precious bit of information to skyrocket your career.
“i didn’t come to school to get my mrs. degree.” your voice was laced with snark. men like him wanted nothing but money as their main objective. it was never about the passion. as if she could sense the solemn energy radiating off of you, paige walked to the table and began introducing herself. they fawned over her for a few minutes and you were able to still your beating heart for a few moments. once paige spoke them all, she made it to you and dropped onto the balls of her feet next to your chair.
“you’re up next, yeah?” she said, her glimmering eyes scanning your face. “remember: go at your own pace, don’t let them freak you out.” paige squeezed your hand three times, saying “i love you.” it was a code you two developed when you first started dating. it was a way to express the love you shared subtly.
“you got this.” she said as she rose to her feet and said her goodbyes.
“what a nice young lady.” one of the gentleman said, watching her walk away.
“she’s amazing.” you agreed as the lights dimmed and the first presenter walked to the stage.
you couldn’t believe it was you who won national women’s college athlete of the year. you couldn’t move from your seat for a long while, hands covering your face ready to swipe the tears that were pouring down your perfectly made up face. you stood from your seat and held the bottom of your dress, walking slowly and as steady as you could. the yelling behind you was a roar of applause and shouts of your name from your fellow uconn student athletes and the loudest of them - was your girlfriend, paige. you stood at the stairs for a moment, unsure of your balance in the heels that adorned your feet. before you knew it, paige’s hand was in yours, helping you up the steps. she squeezed your hand three times and you smiled at her once you finally made it on stage. she shot you another cheesy thumbs up and the audience laughed.
the microphone was louder than you expected as you loosed a breath. your eyes scoped the audience, looking for that familiar face. everyone was in their seats, except paige. she was recording you and your acceptance speech and it was adorable.
“gosh,” you said looking down at the trophy before back up, “i don’t even know where to begin. i never thought my journey as an athlete would bring me to this moment. i was just a little girl years ago, watching uconn athletes and dreaming to be where they were. to stand alongside the greats and be in the arena where they existed. i never, ever,” you sniffled and wiped at your tears, “expected to be a part of uconn the way that i am now. i never knew love like this existed until uconn became my life. i have a thank you list that’s a mile long - so i’ll spare you all,” you laughed and the audience followed, “there are not enough words to describe the family and love i found while being an athlete at uconn. to my people, i love you and to my girlfriend, i adore you. thank you for believing in me and thank you for all those tough training sessions where you kicked my ass - it got me this trophy!.” you laughed and the crowd erupted in applause once more and you could’ve sworn that your girlfriend paige, was the loudest.
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paigebueckers: after party with my girl, my national women’s college athlete of the year. she learned it all from me. so proud of her.
kkarnold: she’s really that girl
azzifudd: the dress is stunning just like her
paigefan1: so happy for yall 🥺
paigefan2: my heart, i cannot take it anymore
paigefan3: she’s so in love with her and i love it
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝟐𝟒
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pairing: dark!rafe x fem!pogue!reader
summary: ❝there’s only 24 hours in a day, and half of those you lay awake with thoughts of murder and carnage.❞ — when you accidentally witness rafe commit a murder, he’s willing to do everything he has to do in order to make sure there’s no loose ends. even if that means tracking you down and killing you himself.
warnings: predator/prey dynamic, murder, descriptions of violence and blood, time skips (just hours apart), choking (not the good kind), rafe quite literally tries to kill you, it kinda gives stockholm syndrome ngl
word count: 3.1k
a/n: series masterlist
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hour one - 9:00 PM
“i can’t believe you talked me into taking this short cut to the boneyard, this is creepy as fuck.” you shivered, regretting your shoe choice as the gravel crunched underneath your sandals. “you’ll be here in no time, i swear! did you pass that abandoned house on the left already?” you froze, glancing back at the isolated dirt path. “girl- i haven’t seen anything since i turned this way like fifteen minutes back.” your friend gasped on the other end of the line. “where the hell are you then?!” lizzie yelled, attempting to shout over the music in the background.
“you tell me!” you cursed under your breath when you got a low battery notification. “look, my phone is about to die, i’ll try to call when i get closer.” you hung up, spotting a clear field to cut through. up in the distance you could see what looked like headlights. “thank god.” you sighed, making your way over in hopes of getting a ride out of here. as you got closer, you started rethinking your decision when two men came into your view, one pushing the other onto the ground. “what the fuck?” you whispered to yourself, your heart dropping as the man that was standing up pulled out a gun.
“please don’t do this! i’ll never steal from you again, man. i swear!” you were stuck, your feet not moving no matter how hard you tried. “you didn’t just steal from me, you stole from my family.” the cock of the gun was loud enough for your heart to beat wildly in your chest. “please, i’m begging you!” terror flooded through your system when the man on his knees glanced up, pointing a finger at you before the sound of a chamber being emptied pierced through the chilly night air. you jumped, covering your ears as they rung. the man fell with a thud, the realization of what you’ve just seen made your breath catch in your throat.
“hey!” the guy with the gun started running towards you, sending a shock of fear down your spine as you stumbled back. you whimpered when the palms of your hands landed on the bed of grass below you, the man’s footsteps only getting closer with each second you stayed on the ground. finally, when he was close enough for you to make out his face, you bolted in the opposite direction, a scream leaving your lips when he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you against his front as he breathed against your skin. “you shouldn’t have seen that.” he traced your arm with the cold metal of his gun. “please, i won’t tell anyone, i was just trying to get to a party when i saw your truck. i thought you could help me out.” you whimpered.
“thought i could help you out?” he repeated, turning you around in his grip, “you’ve seen my truck, and now you’ve seen my face. i don’t want to do this but your pretty little self was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” tears welled in your eyes as he held the gun up to your head. “i won’t go to the cops, i promise!” you cried, hands wrapping around his wrist. “i’ll forget all of this even happened.” truth be told, he really didn’t want to kill you. the second you saw his eyes soften, you knee’d him in the groin, pushing him in the chest as you took the gun from his hand. “sorry, not sorry!” you shouted, running as fast as you can while he groaned in pain. “you stupid fucking bitch!” he yelled, punching the ground in frustration.
you put the gun on safety mode, throwing it in your purse as you ran and didn’t stop until you reached what looked like the beach. sure enough as you got closer, you could hear the cheer of nearby partygoers. you sighed in relief, making your way to the center where lizzie and jj were sitting down at. “oh my god, are you alright?!” your best friend wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug while jj examined you closely. “dude, you look like you just climbed out of the woods or something.” you rolled your eyes at his words. “thanks, jayj.” you sat down, contemplating if whether or not you should tell lizzie what happened.
“i texted you like fifteen minutes ago to check on you!” she hit your arm playfully. your phone. you quickly patted yourself down, subtly looking through your small purse for the device, only to realize that you might’ve dropped it during the whole ‘escape from the killer!’ fiasco. “oh, fuck.” you whispered to yourself, lizzie and jj already back in their own little love bubble. meanwhile just on the other side of the island, rafe was seated in his truck, still sore from you kicking him in his manhood. he didn’t dwell on it too much, everything he needed to physically get ahold of you currently sat in the palm of his hand.
not only did rafe have your phone, but when he took off your phone case just to see your state id wrapped in a twenty dollar bill, he also had your full name along with your address.
hour ten - 7:00 AM
you barely slept a wink last night. after you got home from the party, you showered with the bathroom door open, way too paranoid to go over five minutes without looking out the window. you glanced at your purse, still not being able to bring yourself to open it. the flash backs of the man’s lifeless body falling to the ground was enough to keep you up. now, with the morning sun flooding through your bedroom, you knew had to get up at some point and get yourself together. “fuck.” you rubbed your eyes, quickly brushing your teeth before making your way to the small kitchen. washing some dishes from the day before, you stared out the window as you got lost in your thoughts.
he doesn’t know my name, how could he even find me? what if he found my phone with my id in it? eh, he’s probably too busy burying a body to worry about me.
“ouch!” you hissed, looking down to see that you accidentally cut yourself with one of the kitchen knives. “snap out of it.” you sighed to yourself, sucking on your finger as you looked through one of the drawers for a band aid. just as you spotted one, your heart stopped when you heard the familiar crunch of gravel in the driveway. your worst nightmare coming true when you saw the same black truck from last night parked outside. “no, no, no, no, no,” you ran to the front door, where you were met with a loud bang. “open up, y/n.” you paced around nervously, having no phone to call anyone for help. “leave me alone! i didn’t go to the police last night, and i won’t go to them ever, okay? please leave.”
“i can’t do that. you have something of mine, and i want it back.” you shuddered at the sound of his voice. “if you give me my gun, you’ll get your phone back. easy trade off.” that explains why he knew your name and where you lived. “you have my phone?” you wiped your eyes, walking closer to the trailer door. “i sure do, babe.” you debated with yourself, your breath quickening with each second you stayed silent. “will you leave me alone after this?” you unlocked the small latch, your heart beating in your ears as you opened the door, revealing the, rather beautiful, psycho that tried to kill you yesterday. “i’ll leave you alone. promise.” his eyes danced over your body. you were just in a tank top and underwear.
“i’ll be right back.” you took a deep breath, grabbing the gun out of your purse before returning back to him. when you opened the door once more, he was no where to be seen. “you make this too easy for me.” he clamped a hand over your mouth as he dragged you out of the living room and into your bedroom where he shoved you into the wall. you had no idea where the gun was pointing to, but you still pulled the trigger in a last minute effort to defend yourself. both of you jumped back, a bullet hole now adorning a spot next to your bed frame. you held the gun up, your hand shaking as you aimed at his head. “where’s my phone?” all the fear in your body was now replaced by anger. he held his hands up in defense, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“here,” he took the device out of his pocket, tossing it on your bed. “if i was going to rat you out i would’ve done it already,” you started, “this gun has my prints all over it, too. if i went to the cops with this i’d look just as guilty.” you watched as his face fell in realization. “i don’t even know your name.” you emptied the clip of the gun, the bullets falling to the floor with a clink. “rafe.” was all he said as you pushed the gun into his chest. “listen, rafe, i’m not a runner, i don’t run from anyone. you, however, killed somebody and i happened to witness it. that’s all. you got what you wanted now, so leave.” you grabbed your phone, walking past him to the kitchen.
“i believe you, but i can’t trust you. ‘not when i have too much to lose.” he followed you, unaware of the knife you had in your grip. “so make a move.” you turned around. rafe glanced at the knife in your hand, a smirk forming on his lips. “i’m into knifeplay, don’t threaten me with a good time.” he charged at you, knocking the weapon out of your grasp. before you could react, he wrapped a hand around your throat, lifting you up onto the counter as he started choking you out. your eyes widened while you frantically reached to the side for anything to hit him with. just as your vision started getting hazy, you felt the cast iron of your skillet on the stovetop, swinging it across his head. he fell instantly, his eyes fluttering shut as he his body slumped against the floor.
you rubbed the skin of your neck, tears running down your face as you fought to catch your breath. “oh, shit.” you whimpered, leaning down to check if he had a pulse. still alive, dammit. you leaned against the wall, trying to come up with something fast before he woke up. thirty minutes later, and you had him tied to a chair in the middle of your living room. “this will have to do.” you sighed, sticking a piece of tape over his mouth.
hour eighteen - 3:00 PM
“what the fuck?” rafe’s voice was raspy when he woke up, his eyes widening slightly as he spotted you staring at him from the couch. “what time it is?” he groaned, nearly knocking his chair over at how hard he was thrashing in it. “three o’ clock, which means you’ve been knocked out cold for eight hours.” you blinked. “eight hours?! what the fuck happened?” he looked around. you couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips. “what happened? you started choking me like a crazy person and i hit you with a skillet before you could actually kill me.” you moved closer, showing him the purple marks that now adorned your neck. apart of him hated that he did it, but it was too late to take it back now.
he licked his lips, cringing at the weird taste. “did i have tape on my mouth?” he grimaced. “yes, but you started breathing weird so i took it off.” you walked to the kitchen, rafe’s eyes glued to the way your jeans hugged your ass. “can you untie me?” he sighed when he heard you laugh. “not a chance,” you came back to the living room with a water bottle and a chair. “we’re gonna talk first before i let you go anywhere.” you took a seat in front of him, your knees knocking against his. you opened the water bottle, bringing it up to his lips. “i choked the shit out of you and you wanna give me water?” if he felt like crap before, he felt even worse now. “do you want it or not?” he nodded.
you hated how attractive you found him, the way he was gazing up at you right now made butterflies flutter in your tummy. once he hummed that he had enough, you leaned back in your seat. “before you shot that guy last night you said he stole something from your family. what was it?” rafe sighed, shaking his head. “why should i tell you?” he scoffed. “i’ll answer whatever questions you ask me in return.” you leaned forward, your cleavage making him uncomfortably hard in his cargo shorts. “any question?” you tilted your head. “yes, but answer mine first.” you ignored the smirk that lifted in the corner of his lips. “he stole gold,” rafe cleared his throat, “like a shit ton of it.” he swallowed.
“did you get it back?” you peered up at him through your eyelashes, completely oblivious to the tent in his shorts, or so he thought. “of course i did.” you shivered at the deep baritone of his voice. rafe knew both of you were treading dangerous territory as your looks started lingering a second longer, your fingers tracing his chin everytime he asked for more water. “what does one do with that much gold? when they’re already rich, i mean.” you licked your lips, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. “get more richer.” he shrugged. “my turn.” rafe cleared his throat.
“you can’t go to the cops, and you can’t leave me tied here forever. what are you gonna do?” you sighed, spending the last eight hours asking yourself the same thing. “i don’t know, rafe. if i let you go, you might try to kill me again.” he watched you carefully, guilt settling in his gut. “i won’t do anything, i swear i’ll-” you cut him off, “you said that last time.” rafe’s eyes flickered down to your neck, his jaw clenching. “nah, you have my word.” even though he looked sincere, you knew better than to give in right away. “no.” you got up, grabbing your purse as you made your way to the front door. “woah, where are you going?” rafe started pulling at the restraints, shouting after you as you walked out your trailer.
hour twenty three - 8:00 PM
the last thing you expected to see when you got home was rafe lying on his side, staring at nothing as you rushed over to help him up. “what the hell?” you grunted, pulling the chair up. “i tried to get out of this.” he looked completely defeated as you pulled your hair out of your face. “yeah, i can see that,” you placed the bag of food you had on the kitchen table, returning with a pair of scissors. “y/n, it’s been well over a day since my last meal, just let me go i swear i’ll be out of your hair.” he swallowed dryly. kneeling down on the floor, you started cutting the ropes from the chair, mumbling a ‘don’t make me regret this.’
rafe stared wide eyed as you set him free, immediately backing away from him as he rolled his shoulders back. “your keys are on the small table by the front door.” you were practically trembling with fear when he loomed over you. with a gentle hand, he softly traced your face, his fingers trailing down your neck to touch the bruises there. “i’m sorry.” rafe whispered. not knowing how to respond, you simply blinked with a small nod. “i got you something to eat in the kitchen,” you motioned towards the white paper bag with a burger and fries in it. rafe looked at you as if he couldn’t believe you were real.
“you bought me food?” you relaxed when he stepped away, his hands on his head as he slowly paced back and forth. “yes..” your voice came out small. rafe was quiet for a minute before he looked at you with a look that sent shivers down your spine, except this time it wasn’t out of terror. “do you want to play a game, y/n?” he eyed your frame, loving the way your tits looked in that pretty tube top of yours. “i’m kind of tired of games, don’t you think we’ve played cat and mouse long enough?” you smiled softly when he laughed. “while you do have a point, this is a game that you win regardless.” rafe watched as you let your hair down from it’s claw clip, “why not?”
“i’m sure you’re familiar with hide and seek?” your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “of course i’m familiar, but why that one?” you questioned. “well here’s the thing; i’m gonna count to sixty and give you one minute to hide. if i don’t find you in two minutes, you’ll never have to worry about me showing up at your doorstep again, but if i do find you.. i fuck you.” you were immediately taken aback, your heart pounding in your ears as he got close to you once again. any normal person would immediately reject, not even giving it a second thought before declining, but a large part of you was thrilled at the idea of being hunted down. only when your life didn’t actually depend on it, of course.
you looked up at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as a nervous habit. “okay.” rafe smiled devilishly. “run.” his eyes were dark when the word left his mouth. “w-what?” you stuttered, panic coursing through your veins. “i said fucking run.” he said through gritted teeth, your feet moving as he started counting down. you ran into the bedroom, cursing under your breath as you look around for a concealed hiding spot. you lived in a trailer for god’s sake, you had limited space. choosing your best bet, you squeezed into your closet, bringing your knees up to your chest as the words ‘ready or not, here i come!’ echoed in your ears.
you could hear shuffling in the bathroom and the kitchen, your eyes screwing shut as his foot steps got closer to your room. rafe was already a minute down. just as you thought he was going to walk away, the door to your closet swung open.
hour twenty four - 9:00 PM
“gotcha.”
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inherdaze · 1 day
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dark red — megumi fushiguro
megumi x f!reader
18+ content, apocalypse au, slow burn, strangers to lovers
12k
summary: megumi finds himself growing closer to you as you both fight to survive in an infected world.
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October 30th. 
You eye your floppy, double-paged calendar lovingly as you uncap a marker, drawing a big ‘X’ across the date. 
Your eyes scan over the top page of it. It has some corny close-up stock photo of a bird with the month October printed in big, cursive lettering. It’s the type of calendar that your grandmother would keep in her office, very neutral with nature images. And for some reason, it’s like your comfort object. It made you happy, reminded you of simpler things and simpler times. It reminded you of life before- before the infectious bite.
The bite is deadly. 
Or, beyond deadly, since it doesn’t quite kill you. 
Your brain only rots away and hunger pools at the pit of your stomach, the only thing to sedate it being human flesh. Ah, yes, the infamous zombie bite. 
You and countless others had seen it plenty of times- in movies, in shows, in video games. Even funny little quizzes would pop up on your timeline, Who Would You Be In A Zombie Apocalypse?
Never would you have dreamed of it all coming true. 
When you think about it, it happened so simply, so quickly, that the sequence of events could be plastered onto an elementary foldable. You think that’s what’s probably going to happen, in the future, when humanity re-establishes itself. When.
Not an if, but a when. 
You were one of the few that strongly believed that humans could overcome such devastation and rebuild. Perhaps you could help in creating a better world. 
It happened as such: A disease was created. Created. This fact alone angered the population enough to start riots, protests, petitions. It was the beginning of the end. A disease that was supposedly heavily concealed and secured was created by the government, until all the scientists working on restricting the disease escaped the laboratory, no longer themselves. They’d changed, transformed, and it had only spread like a wildfire from there.
With people constantly out on the streets to protest and express their disbelief and opposition to diseases being formulated in the first place, it was not that difficult for it to spread. And spread it did. 
Humankind really took a hit. There was no organization, no plan, no stability to overcome the outbreak. The government was too busy trying to better their image and hide their mistakes that no one even considered a plan of action to tackle the sickness and the spread. It was literal hell. Infrastructure was being torn down, people were turning against each other, either locking themselves away from everyone else or going out into the world to try to play hero. 
You had a sliver of luck on your side. 
Now, you didn’t make it without pain and hardships, no, the world would simply be going too easy on you. But when you and your college friends decided to scram, to flee in prevention of being cornered, it played out rather nicely. Others had traveled back home, or hid themselves in their dorms, too scared to go out and face the world. Their poor choices usually resulted in them being practically overtaken with zombies, with nowhere else to run. 
You decided to keep it simple. To keep moving. 
Your plan was to move upwards, towards the North. When the disease had initially broken out and there was still debate on whether it was a legitimate issue or not, nobody had really taken it seriously if the government wasn’t taking it seriously. In the early stages, when everyone was wishy-washy and laughing about it on their timelines, an organization in the North was formed and said to have set up a base- just in case. 
It worked out in your favor. Just a little bit. 
You had left with your roommate, Nobara, and her girlfriend Maki. The three of you participated in all the chaos, too- what else could you have done? Law was no longer applicable. The three of you sought out to steal, to take, to do what you needed. You remember it all, the beginning of summer.
You focus back on your calendar. It’s late October now. 
You were also completely alone now. Nobara and Maki had given up their lives when the three of you scrambled around a sporting goods store for weapons and had been targeted by a herd of zombies. Maki was the strongest, so she took it upon herself to fend them off until it became slightly overbearing. Nobara had jumped in to help, the both of them hollering at you to hurry and find a weapon and run. One last look into their eyes was all it took, for they knew the both of them wouldn’t be able to make it out alive. 
You traveled alone, carrying a huge backpack with a bright red wagon trailing behind you at all times. All food, cooking ware, and clothing were stored in the wagon, protected by a tarp and a heap load of bungee cords. The backpack held all the little snacks, medicine, and bottles of hot water. It was never hot by choice. It just never cooled fully after you boiled it to fend away the bacteria. 
In the very back pocket, where a laptop would typically be, was your crumpled calendar. 
Every evening was the same- you had a three-step routine to provide yourself a feeling of stability in the midst of chaos; 1) Hide yourself amongst the trees, 2) Cross off the day in your calendar, 3) Go straight to sleep. It was a routine that had a sense of simplicity and discipline that you so desperately needed. You could not let yourself forget to mark off the days (you’d probably lose your mind from the lack of track of time) and you absolutely could not let yourself stay awake longer than needed. Sometimes, you would explore an unwelcome corner in your mind. A corner that whispered that maybe you’d be better off just dying, at this rate. No more struggles, no more worries, just sleep. Luckily, the sounds of nature and the idea of a better future always pulled you out of that spiral. 
You tuck your marker into your pocket and bring the floppy thing close to yourself before a feeling of embarrassment comes over you, as if someone is watching you from afar. 
With heated cheeks, you scurry to sloppily stuff it back into the back pocket of your pack before curling up against it, pulling your parka tighter against yourself to go to sleep. 
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When you woke up, everything was the same. The world was still falling apart, and you were still alone. 
You hauled yourself up and pat at your cheeks- they stung from the oncoming cold. You knew that winter would be difficult to handle- you figured it would probably be much worse than the summer. You’d just have to face it alone, with limited shelter and supplies. 
You pulled on your backpack, tugged at the handle of your wagon, and went on your way. 
You weren’t alone for long. 
You walked at the edges of the forest, smart enough to not make yourself a target in the middle of the road, but you still needed it to guide you. You were well hidden among the trees, but were close enough to peek out between branches and leaves to make out the pattern of the street. 
A loud snap had jolted you awake from your light daydreaming. You immediately stopped walking and slowly reached down to the wagon, trying to pull the tarp away as quietly as possible. 
Your eyes flitted among the scenery, mind on alert as you reached for the only impactful weapon you had- a bat. 
You managed to successfully grab it, and you held it out defensively, waiting for something to come rushing at you. A few minutes pass and nothing happens. 
Knuckles turning white from your grip on the handle, you stepped forward slowly, trying to find the source of the sound. It was a stupid move, you knew, but you also could not keep moving with the knowledge that there was possibly a zombie in the same woods as you. It would probably eat you alive- the idea and the zombie. 
You try not to trek too far from your wagon, and you promise to yourself that after a couple more steps, you’ll turn back around and you’ll act like this never happened to save yourself from panic later. 
Your little plan is interrupted when your eyes make out a figure not too far from yourself. It’s tall, and unnervingly still, with its back facing you. You can’t decipher whether or not it’s a human. 
You squint and make out the movement of clean, steady hands. You see, in one hand, a little radio, crackling and emitting fuzzy noises. The other hand is occupied by something that you cannot make out. It’s at that moment that you know you’re safe- at least you hope so. 
The sight of another human excites you so much, you cannot help the sudden adrenaline that surrounds your heart and the smile that reaches your face as you cheerily (and semi-softly) call out, “Hey!” 
The person whirls around and suddenly your heart drops, the adrenaline mushing into dread, your smile faltering. He faces you with a gun, held up high, level with his eyes in order to aim properly. 
He gives you a once-over before interrogating you. “What do you want?” 
“Oh,” You sputter, limbs feeling heavy with fear. “N-Nothing,” You try, “Just…. just bumped into you here.” 
“Okay,” He starts hesitantly, dark blue eyes showing you distrust. “Run off, then.” 
Your heart drops even harder, this time. To think that he doesn’t want anything to do with you, that he doesn’t even want to talk, to meet another human. You assume he’s alone, too, since he’s got a backpack that looks much heavier than your own right on his back, straps tight. 
It’s not that you necessarily expect anything from him- it’s just that this is a rare moment. You haven’t spoken to another person in months. 
The crackling of the radio fills in the quiet between the two of you before he pulls you from your thoughts, “We can part ways, now.” 
His voice is only slightly condescending, and he talks as if it’s an obvious fact. 
“Wait,” You lazily blurt, hand reaching out just a little as if he had offered something for you to hold onto. “Don’t you want to be friends?”
He scoffs at you, embarrassing you. “Friends?”
“W-well, not friends,” You struggle, ears and neck heating up, “Just, yunno, partners or- yunno?” 
“No.” 
His blatant answer makes you wince. As much as he makes you feel small, a sliver of desperation shines through your timid form and you try again. “You know what I mean,” You breath out exasperatedly, “There’s nearly no one else left in the world. Might as well work together. We can take turns patrolling and sleeping, and especially when it comes to gathering supplies- like the buddy system, kinda- and things will run smoother. We can put what we have together.” 
He knew you were right. He hated that he knew you were right.
Truthfully, Megumi had no intentions to create bonds and team up with people. He thought it would only slow him down, both physically and mentally- he went out of his way to avoid attachment. 
He responds with silence, so you give it another shot. 
“I’m moving North, too… if that’s… if that’s what you plan to do as well.” 
It catches him, and you knew you had won him over. And he knew, that you knew, that you had convinced him enough. The way that he had faltered and his stern expression melted into one of surprise told you all that you needed to know. 
You gave him a little smile to soften the blow of his loss. 
“Fine,” He says through gritted teeth, letting his arm fall to his side in defeat. He sees you keep your eyes trained on the gun, so he tucks it away in an attempt to ease your nerves. 
You tell him about your supply wagon and let him know he can probably lighten the load on his back by mixing his supplies with yours. While you lead him back down the path where you had abandoned your precious wagon, you try to get him to converse with you. His silent nature made you a little nervous, but you were deeply in need of human connection. 
“Oh! By the way, my name-” 
“No.”
You cough and look up at him, shock written across your features. “Huh?”
“We shouldn’t do that. Exchange names, I mean. It’s just the two of us, we’ll be fine without it.” 
“Huh?” You call out again, this time louder and with more confusion. He shoots you a glare that tells you to shut up. 
“But- why not? What am I supposed to call you?” 
“I already said, it’s just the two of us. Who else could you be addressing? Exchanging names makes us friends. We are, by no means, friends.”
You watch him speak with an unbothered tone, eyes not even meeting yours as he empties half of his supplies into the wagon. Your mouth is slightly agape and you falter to respond, but as he swings his backpack around, a flash of black and white catches your attention. 
“Are those…” You trail off before he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“Are those plushies?”
You see him freeze, and his pale skin blossoms with color. “No.”
“Oh, come on,” You huff out playfully, almost circling him to get a better look at the little fluffy keychains that hang clustered together at the zipper of his backpack. Two tiny but puffy little dogs of opposite colors stare right back at you, felt tongues poking out and all. 
“Huh. Didn’t peg you as a dog boy. Or an anyone boy, for that matter.”
“Are you done? We need to keep moving.”
“Alright, alright,” You huff, reaching for the handle of the wagon. He takes hold of it before you get the chance and starts walking, and you feel your heart smile at his silent offer to pull it for you. You didn’t think there was a deeper meaning to it, you were just happy that you didn't have to haul that heavy thing around for once. “No need to be snappy, Dog Boy.” 
He only groans in response. 
The rest of the day flies by in silence. You try your luck a few times to start a conversation, to pull anything out of him, but he’s so damn stubborn, either keeping his eyes  focused on the path ahead or fiddling with his radio. The radio gives him an excuse to tell you to shut up, since he needs to hear if there are any broadcasts or incoming news- signs of life. 
He finally speaks up when he claims it’s time to sleep. 
The two of you settle against a cluster of tree trunks, and you repeat the same thing you’ve been doing for months on end- laying against your backpack, looking at your calendar with a glint of hope and desperation in your eyes. 
Megumi watches as you pull and flatten it out before rummaging around for your marker. He narrows his eyes and tries to focus on the clunky piece of paper you seem to be carrying around. 
He makes out the rows and columns of dates, an unimpressed look dawning on his face. “Don’t tell me…”
“Hm?” You hum lightly, beckoning him to continue. 
“Don’t tell me you carry that thing around and actually use it.” 
“What else can I say? We’ll need it, in the future. Once everything starts going back to normal, people are gonna be like, ‘Oh no! What day is it? What season are we going into? Must we start a new calendar?’ And then, I’ll have my trusty calendar right here, with all the dates crossed off. Think about it. Very important.” 
He remains quiet as you make big ‘X’ on the final date, October 31st. 
“Hm. We met on Halloween. Funny, isn’t it? I think it suits you a little.”
He disregards your last comment and speaks with a monotone voice, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Humanity will never recover- that thing’s useless. Just taking up space.” 
You fall quiet after that. Normally, you think, you wouldn’t be too iffed by some pessimism. But his comment regarding your calendar and how easily he dismissed your hopes had hurt, just a little. 
Maybe more than a little. 
You instinctively held the thing a little closer to you, as if to protect it. You avoid his eyes and silently decide that the conversation should probably end there. 
He sees you shift a little farther away from him, bringing the stupid thing closer to your chest. He can’t find it in himself to care. 
You admire that cheesy stock photo on the top of the calendar before flipping the bottom page to sneak at a glance for the photo for November. It’s a scene of a pathway formed by trees, nearly dead trees, with the leaves caught mid-fall, yellows and oranges everywhere. November is, again, printed in large cursive at the top of the page. 
You fold it back up and jam it into your backpack before pulling it down closer to your head, to use it as a pillow. You wrap yourself up in your parka and turn to sleep on your side, back facing Megumi. He sees it all from the corner of his eye and scoffs to himself, remarking how childish you are. 
Steady hands lay his gun next to him, close to his head- just in case he ever needs it throughout the night. He sleeps firm on his back, but he turns his head to look at you just before he dozes off. 
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Bathing becomes much easier, now that Megumi’s around. 
Before the two of you crossed paths, you would rid yourself of your clothes shakily, always leaving them on the rocks that kissed the lake. You couldn’t even clean yourself off properly, eyes always on the lookout for movement or an undead form to creep up on you. 
You had begged him. Shamelessly. The whole morning consisted of you yapping away, Please, Dog Boy, there’s a perfectly good lake right there, and a rock for you to sit on while you wait and patrol. I’ll patrol after. I really, really need this bath. 
He wouldn’t even look at you as he gave you a hard No.
Megumi was beyond dead set on moving forward. Over the last few days, he was always quick to shut you down and occasionally scold you for being so easily distracted and perhaps a little too light-hearted for your own good.
But this was your last straw. 
He only caved in when you threatened to wipe some of your sweat off on him. You had never seen him recoil from something so fast. 
After making him literally swear to not turn around and peek while you were bathing- to which he had rolled his eyes and told you he wouldn’t even dare to consider such a thing- you pointed to the rock for him to sit on before you began to strip. Megumi could only hear the light splashes of you walking into the water and your little cries of Oh my god, it’s so fucking cold. 
You gladly took advantage of such a moment. Finally, you had got to scrub every corner of your skin, finally got to really wash at your scalp, all without looking around in fear of what’s out there. 
And maybe you were taking a little too long, because after a while, Megumi coughed out to remind you that he was still there. His back was starting to hurt from sitting on the rock for so long without proper support. 
“How much longer are you going to take?” 
“Not too much longer,” You sing-songed, clumsily trying to dip your head in the water to wash out your hair. 
He rolled his eyes to himself at the tone of your voice. You were much too playful for his liking. 
“Don’t worry, Doggy,” You teased, though your voice was slightly muffled from your awkward position in the water. “You can bathe after this. Although, you might smell worse after- like wet dog.” 
He could hear you laughing to yourself like a child.
Megumi never responded to your little lighthearted jabs. 
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Life goes on as it always has. With Megumi so quiet, sometimes you ponder if you had been better off just walking away from him that day. And, if he wasn’t quiet, he was always on your back about something.
(“Why’s this water so warm?” 
“I boiled it. It’s from the lake. We can’t get sick, you know.” 
“You poured hot water into an insulated water bottle?” 
“My God, just- just drink the damn water, Doggy. Or don’t, not like I care. More for me.”
“Shut up. I’ll drink it.”)
The two of you were nearly on opposite ends of the spectrum, personality wise. You two would’ve probably clashed if you hadn’t taken things in such a jovial manner. He even started calling you Sunshine mockingly, as if to belittle you for being so stupidly bright and optimistic when the world was reaching its end. 
The first time he called you that, you had actually smiled. He had to refrain from reprimanding you for being so… so...happy-go-lucky. 
He couldn’t pinpoint as to why your preppy nature had irritated him so much, but his epiphany reached him one night when the two of you settled against a group of tree trunks, like you always did. 
You were, as always, cuddled up with your little calendar. Megumi discreetly watched as you marked off the day, taking note of how you had to redraw the ‘X’ a few times. Your marker was drying out. 
You were well into November, and you scanned over the rows of dates, spotting the box marked Thanksgiving. With your tongue slightly poking out, you poorly drew a little turkey inside the box. 
He watched as you scanned over the top and bottom page again, but he felt like your mind was elsewhere. 
“When’s your birthday?” 
Your question caught him off guard, and he flustered as he quickly looked away, fearing that you had seen him watching. 
“What?” 
“Your birthday. When’s your birthday?” 
He cast you an awkward sort of look. “December 22nd.” 
“Cool,” You replied almost automatically before flipping the page of your calendar. Megumi’s eyes only slightly widened as he witnessed you try to cram the words Dog Boy Birthday in the little box marked with 22. He was unsure if he was meant to see that. He didn’t want to embarrass you by mentioning it, but he felt like it shouldn’t go unmentioned, either. 
“You don’t need to do that.” 
“Why not?” You were being genuine. 
“Because,” He said without knowing what it was he wanted to say. “Because. It’s pointless.” 
“Pointless this, pointless that.” 
Your comeback wasn’t all that great, but you had brushed off his statement so easily- you had seemed to have grown accustomed to his little remarks, especially the ones with negative tones behind it. 
That’s when his revelation crashed over him. It hit him so strongly, and he was frozen in place as you mumbled a goodnight before cuddling up to your clunky backpack. 
You were so precious. Because despite all your banter, you were always playful about it, and when you weren’t being playful, you were being genuine. You always openly offered him things, the fair share of your supplies, always told him to get some sleep while you keep watch, always told him to eat up, have the last of your water bottles, always looked out for him in little ways that he did not bother to return. And, what irritated him so much about it was that you were so vulnerable, open, shamelessly smiling and laughing alone or at him, trying to get him to laugh too. And he hated how you had done all this, offered so much to him, remained open to him, only for him to constantly chastise you and feed you despairing comments. 
He wanted you to put up more of a fight. He wanted you to be able to be okay, without him. Megumi criticized himself after having that thought. He knew that your nature didn’t equate to weakness, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off a little…. 
You were so easy to trust him. At any moment could you have given up something to him and he could’ve just ran off with it, leaving you empty handed and destined to literally die. He thought that if something were to ever happen to him, and you kept going on with your open, kittenish self, that someone would come along and take everything you ever knew and had. 
Thinking of it made his chest pinch. He felt guilty for criticizing your calendar, the symbolization of all your hopes, on the day that you met. If he hadn’t realized this all now, he may have become the one to take all that you knew and had, figuratively. The way that he had belittled your dreams for the future had already spoken for itself. 
He laid down to finally sleep after swallowing down his thoughts, and he turned to look at your sleeping form, wantonly. He wanted to be better to you.
Suddenly, he thinks about how weird he looks, watching you sleep. His ears flush red and he turns to sleep on his side, back facing you, as if he needs to cover his tracks from the peering trees. 
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You’re woken up by a string of broken, awkward groans. 
You assume it’s Megumi. Your eyes are crusted with sleep, so you don’t even bother to flash him a teasing look as you lightly jab, “Hush, Doggy.” 
He doesn’t respond with his usual sneer or command to shut the hell up, but with an even louder, pained groan. 
You sigh to yourself. He’s probably having a nightmare. You feel generous enough to break him from his terrors and lazily sit up, roughly rubbing away at your eyes and reaching over to him. 
Your hands meet a still, soft and sleeping form, completely at peace. 
You do a double-take when the feeling of his form contradicts the pained sounds he’s making and suddenly, you’re up and wide awake, especially when you come to realize that the groans are not coming from him. 
Whirling around to find the source, you come to see a beat-down zombie, tumbling its way towards you both. It’s missing a leg and its steps are off-kilter, slow, and if you had it in you to laugh at it, you’d probably laugh. 
“Holy shit,” You whisper to yourself, body stilling out of fear. For a few seconds, you can’t bring yourself to do anything, and the creature crawls closer, despite it being so slow. 
You finally come to your senses and weakly shake Megumi to wake him up. 
He’s knocked out cold. You figure that it’s from exhaustion- the both of you had been taking a beating from your recent drop in supplies. The last thing the two of you ate was a granola bar for yesterday’s breakfast. It wasn’t even a whole granola bar- Megumi split it in half for the both of you. You had let him have the last drop of hot water, too. The both of you were running on empty.
You trip over yourself and hastily pull on your backpack, still focusing on getting Megumi to awake. 
“Dog Boy,” You whisper-yell, lightly kicking at his leg. It’s ridiculous, you think. All of this is ridiculous. You have only a sliver of time to spare, thanks to the zombie moving at the speed of molasses, so you settle yourself behind Megumi and wrap your arm across his torso, beneath his own arms, your grip on him loose as you drag his body further away. Your main priority now is getting away, creating distance between you and the undead figure. As you tug on him, his gun slips out into the sunlight and you gasp, using your other hand to grab at it shakily. 
You had no idea how to use it. 
You hold it up to the sun and try to look for the little safety knob that you often heard that guns have. You spotted it, but you couldn’t tell if it was on or not. 
You’re sloppily scooting back, heaving Megumi with you, nearly falling backwards from the weight of your backpack. If you’re being honest, the two of you hadn’t even gotten that far. With Megumi attached to his backpack, he was heavy, and with your newfound weakness from exhaustion, the two of you probably only moved five inches max. 
The creature looms closer, and on second thought, maybe using the gun isn’t that smart of an idea. It would be noisy, easily giving away your location and the two of you would instantly become magnets, become bait. You wouldn’t be able to drag Megumi away fast enough to save yourselves. 
You eye around for your bat but it’s much too far. It’s tucked away under the tarp on your wagon and the zombie is already too close, surpassing the wagon- there’s no way you could get it without actually surviving.
Tears prick at your eyes. No, you think, now’s not the time. Your hands are shaking- you’ve never been this close to a zombie before- and you’re thinking fuck it, your arm letting Megumi go to steady your grip on the gun. 
Megumi drops down on the ground with a thud as you release him, but you don’t have the time to fret over it and ask if he’s okay. You think your ears are playing tricks on you when you hear a groan that’s a little too close. 
You wrap your hands around the base and stupidly close your eyes as your finger lands on the trigger. 
Everything after happens too fast for you to register, almost like a dream. You feel cold hands wrap around your own and tear the weapon away from you, and then a few loud bangs go off, and then it’s quiet. 
“Christ,” He mutters, voice caked from sleep. His eyes are droopy, and he looks so jaded, you’re preparing for him to chew you out about how stupid you were being before offering a list of what you could’ve done better. 
But he only slumps from fatigue, closer to you, nearly into you. He’s the weakest you’ve ever seen him, but guilt nips at the edges of his heart for making you go through such a thing. 
“Are you okay?” He finally breathes out, lifting his head to meet your eyes. 
You’re taken back at the sudden display of concern. 
He sees your face flash with unfamiliarity as a response to his question. The guilt makes its way past the edges and into the depths of his heart, now. He hopes it’s not too late. He hopes that he hasn't already become that person for you, the one that takes everything you know. 
“Yeah,” You say quietly from the shock of it all. 
Megumi falls silent after that, tired.
A few beats pass and he speaks, “We need to keep moving,” He says weakly, convincing himself more than you. 
“Yeah.” 
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Lethargy is a plague between the both of you. 
Megumi tells you that you both need to find a store, and fast. He pulls out a map from one of his backpack pockets, and it’s so torn and dampened with water and other questionable substances that you can barely even make out the lines. 
But he reads it like a pro. He misses the look of admiration in your eyes when he finally concludes that it would be smarter to move in closer towards the suburban area. He says there’s a higher chance of strip malls and markets to sneak around and take from. You trust his word. 
The trek there is nearly torturous.
It’s getting colder, and you try not to think about how the two of you will survive when winter hits. Your feet ache and ache, and you’re sure that you’re slowing Megumi down- you swear you see him slow down his steps just the slightest. You have to refrain from complaining like a small child, asking over and over Are we there yet?
You finally reach a parking lot, and you think you could nearly drop down to your knees and kiss the gravel.
Your sense of euphoria is interrupted as a horrible stench reaches your nose. It’s unmistakable; it makes you double over and slap a hand over your nose and mouth, coughing roughly as you feel a series of gags coming on. 
Dead bodies were sporadically laying across the parking lot, some human, some zombie. Megumi looks at you pitifully, then looks away as you live through your coughing fit, not wanting you to feel worse about being seen in such a state. 
“‘So bad,” You finally manage to wheeze out, cueing him to look at you. 
He reaches into the wagon, towards the end of it, where the clothing was stored all lumpy. He had to slowly pull out whatever it was he was looking for so that nothing else spilled out, and he tugged one end of it slowly, revealing it to you. 
A big, lumpy scarf that has the most terrible pink camouflage print all across it. It’s horrendous, really. You remember you had stuffed it into your wagon a few months back, thinking about how you’d probably need it later. 
Now was later. 
He steps closer to you, close enough that it’s distracting and you nearly freak out at the proximity. He sees your confusion spark across your face and he hushes you before you even start. “To help with the smell.” 
That’s all he says as he reaches behind you, gently wrapping the scarf across your head, leaving you enough room to breathe but making it secure enough so that the scent is muffled. 
“‘M so tired, Doggy.” Your voice was stifled by the heavy fabric. 
“I know,” He says, and he does. 
You then feel bad for voicing your little complaint. Megumi was just as tired as you were, perhaps even more, and he hadn’t complained once, nor did he scold you for being a crybaby like you thought he would. 
Once he saw that you were satisfied with the scarf and concluded that you wouldn’t bend over and gag again, he smoothed his hand over his jacket awkwardly. “I’m gonna go inside and find more stuff. Are you okay with me taking your wagon and your pack?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Megumi has to lean in closer to hear your voice. “I understand if you don’t want to trust me with all your things.” “Our things,” you enunciate. 
“It’s-” He starts, then pauses abruptly. He doesn’t want to keep creating a divide between the two of you. “Yeah. Ours,” He affirms, searching your eyes for a reaction. He can tell you’re smiling stupidly (cutely) behind the scarf. 
“You’re sure?”
“More than anything.” 
He thinks, for a second, that your answer means something more. But you play it off, immediately taking off your backpack, so he chastises his previous thought as he takes your nearly empty pack into his hands. “Are you gonna stay out here?”
“Mhm. I’ll try ‘n find a place to sit.” 
“Okay. I won’t take long, I promise.” 
“Thank you.” 
He turns on his heel and walks in a straight line towards the entrance of the store, where you can make out the broken and crooked sliding doors that had probably been jammed so many times before they gave in. 
You take note of how many vehicles have been haphazardly left behind in the parking lot, mostly likely during moments of panic. 
If only... 
You begin to search the parking lot, bending down to get a clearer sight of all the miscellaneous objects scattered across the ground. Something glints in the corner of your eye, and you perk up, rushing towards it before scooping it up in your hand. 
It’s a clunky, round keychain that says Dog Dads Are The, and right below the text is an image of a dog taking a dump. 
“Huh,” You huff out with a little smile, “Perfect.” 
You take hold of the set of keys that are strung along the ring and single one out- vehicle keys. They’re the type of keys that you have to manually insert into the lock in order to actually open the car door. 
As soon as you stand up straight, you search for the oldest looking car throughout the entire parking lot. Your eyes fall upon a truck that looks like it’s been to hell and back, little scratches and scuff marks lining the sides with splotches of blood on the doors. You note that it only has two doors- the two of you will really have to squeeze in. 
If you ignore the poetic spots of blood, it's one solid color- a color that resembles dirt, you think. It looks like a little old farm truck, with crates stacked in the bed, and there’s a little figure of a cow swinging from the rear view mirror. 
You try your luck and insert the key, to which it fits. Your heart has never fluttered so viciously before. 
Turning the key, you see the little button on the inside of the door pop up. The door swings open ungraciously, a creaky sound ringing out. It makes you freeze, looking around to see if you had alerted anything that could be lurking. 
You decide to hold off until Megumi comes back. It’s completely dead quiet, and he might freak out inside the store at the sound of an engine. 
Just as he promised, he didn’t take long. He steps out to see you sitting in the truck with the door open, your knees brought close to your chest, and although the both of you are incredibly grimey, spent and hanging on to your final threads, you look so peaceful curled up like that. He thinks that maybe he would’ve liked to see you like that, under better circumstances. 
“Sunshine,” He starts as he gets closer, and you open your eyes and unravel from your coiled position. 
Megumi shuffles towards the bed of the truck and starts unpacking the wagon into the back. “Got some food,” he offers, unloading a loaf of bread that has yet to go stale. You hold it like it’s precious, waiting for him to unpack everything into your new truck. 
“Does it have gas?” 
“Dunno,” You say tiredly, and hopelessness sneaks up on you again. Perhaps you had put too many eggs in one basket. 
“Move over.” 
You scoot to the opposite side of the seat to make room for him. He plops down in the driver's seat and you perk up to hand him the keys, “Look, look.” Untangling all the keys from each other, you proudly hold up the keychain to his face. He furrows his eyebrows at first, but then his face melts into an amused expression as he reads over the whole thing and gets the joke. 
“Very funny.” He rolls his eyes, but you know he’s being lighthearted. 
He takes the key and inserts it, holding his breath in hopes that it’ll work, that the heavens are on your side today. 
They seemed to be, since after a few turns, the engine sputtered and coughed, and soon enough, it was settled. Megumi checks the gas level and nods approvingly to himself. He explains that it’s enough to get you a bit farther, but it’d be smart to keep an eye out for gas stations, or, better yet, other vehicles. 
You unwrap your scarf from around yourself and begin to unveil the loaf of bread as well, breaking the fluffy food in half to share. The two of you eat in silence, save for the low humming of the engine. You’re too tired to talk.  
Through the window, you see that it’s getting darker, and you remember your calendar. As you shuffle around to pull it out, Megumi seems to remember something as well, as he takes his bag into his lap and unzips one of the front, small pockets. 
You don’t notice his hesitation as you bring out the floppy thing and lay it on the dashboard, smoothing all the wrinkles away. 
He stares into his backpack pocket. He knows it’s okay to be vulnerable with you. He wants to be vulnerable with you. Embarrassment rushes up his neck and to his ears, but you don’t notice. You’re too busy shaking your old marker to force some ink to come out. 
“Here,” He breaks the silence, voice cracking from the lack of use. “Here’s…. I figured you might need it, I…” Megumi shuts himself up as he sloppily tosses you a pack of permanent markers. 
The way your face lights up makes it all worth it. He thinks he could face this type of embarrassing feeling every day if it makes you this happy. 
“D’awwwww,” You coo, poking fun at him. You’re as jovial as always, eyes bright as you uncap one of the markers and mark the day off, marveling at how smoothly the marker glides. 
He speaks up before he can stop himself. “I’m sorry.”
You pause and look back at him, the look on your face encouraging him to go on. 
“I mean, I’m sorry for… what I said on the day we met. About your calendar.” 
Your demeanor lightens again. 
“Ah, that- don’t worry, Doggy. I don’t even think about that, barely even remember it. It’s okay. You’re good.” 
He knows you’re being genuine, and that you really do forgive him. He sees it in the way you brush it off, going back to your markers and looking at them like they’re made out of gold. He feels something in his chest lighten, like the guilt from that night had been weighing him down this entire time. 
Once the both of you finish your chunks of bread, and after you tuck your calendar away, you curl up on opposite sides of the seat and sleep the most comfortable you have in ages. 
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Everything’s a breeze now that the two of you have the truck. 
It’s easier to fend off the cold, and the both of you have more energy since you don’t have to walk anywhere. The days seem to fly by faster, and with each passing day, you see Megumi opening up to you a little more. He’s not as harsh as he used to be, and even when he does mock you, it’s playful and light. There’s no more malice laced in his tone. 
He’s softer now, cares more now. He accepts your invitations and attempts at making it concrete that it’s the both of you, together, as survival partners or whatever he likes to call it. Your stomach feels warm whenever he agrees or accepts your little comments about things being ‘ours’, referring to you as ‘us’ and ‘we’ rather than correcting you to ‘I’ like he used to. 
It’s not enough for you, though. You can’t help but want a little more. You’re thankful that the two of you greet December, because a) you’re grateful to have even survived this long, and b) it’s much colder now, so he doesn’t question you that much when you coyly try to cozy up to him before bed, complaining about how you’re freezing and that you’ll die of frostbite. 
He sees through your little act. He never mentions it, but he does. Megumi’s more than happy to let you have your fun. 
Megumi’s usually the one who sneaks out into stores to refill your load of supplies, and you stay cozied in the truck. He says it’s because at any moment, if any one of you are away from the vehicle, someone just like you could easily take it. His statement is true, but he doesn’t mention his second, secret little reason- he likes to know that you’re safe and warm in there. 
 One day, though, you try to kiss up to him so that he’ll let you loot with him. 
The morning starts off with you feeding him little compliments that are definitely out of pocket. 
“Your hair looks rather nice today, Dog Boy.” 
“Oh….yours, too.” 
“Mhm. And that jacket you stole fits you well, I think. Really, uh, matches your vibe.” 
“Yep.” 
“Yeah. Your scarf looks real… real snazzy, too.”
That pulls a laugh out of him- he had been borrowing your pink camouflage scarf. He knew something was up, and you knew he did. You just wanted to get on his good side, at least for today. 
“What is it that you want, Sunshine?”
“I wanna help you today, when you go fetch supplies.” 
He’s driving, but you think that if he was doing anything else, he’d stop his movements. He recovers as fast as he had reacted and clears his throat. “Why?” 
“I need some stuff.” 
“Stuff.” 
“Yeah.” You hope he doesn’t ask for elaboration. 
“I’ll think about it.” 
You let out a groan and let your head rest against the window, putting on a dramatic little show so that maybe he’ll cave. 
He doesn’t seem to be caving in any time soon, and from afar, you can see the parking lot. You’re eyeing him nervously, unsure if you should bring it up or not, but you make the first move when you hold onto the door handle as if you’re preparing to get out once he parks. 
He’s hesitant, takes his time to park and drives through the lot as if every space was taken. He could’ve taken up three spaces, if he wanted. 
“Doggy. Stop stalling.” “I just think you’d be safer if you stayed here.” 
“I’ll be fast. I’ll get what I need and then come right back.” 
That seems to ease his nerves, so he silently agrees and parks perfectly between the two lines before shutting the truck off. 
You walk together to the entrance of the store, but as soon as you make it inside, he laughs to himself when you make a beeline to the sweets aisle. He couldn’t believe that you made such a fuss to join along just to get some of those mini cakes. 
  You stay true to your word and gather what you need before making your way back to the truck, keeping an eye out for Megumi. You hope he doesn’t see the small chocolate muffin that you’ve stuffed close to your chest in a weak attempt to hide it. He’d probably make fun of you. 
When everything’s done and he meets you back at the truck, he’s slightly surprised to see that you hadn’t eaten your little sweet during ‘dinner’. He doesn’t have the energy to confront you about it. 
Today’s the day, you think. 
It’s difficult and very painful to conceal your excitement for all the hours that you spend at Megumi’s side. You try to calm your nerves by making lots of conversation with him, now that he’s more responsive. At first, you were the one to talk about your family, your old friends, how you grew up. Lately, though, in his mission to be more vulnerable and open with you, he reciprocates and tells you about his past, here and there. 
Night falls. He’s closing up one of his stories about one of his old teachers that usually made you laugh till you cried. It makes you laugh this time too, except your heart is racing and you can feel your palms getting a little sweaty. 
The both of you go quiet as you eat lightly, taking only a few bites before calling it a night. 
“I have a surprise for you,” You suddenly say, and his face is plastered with confusion. “I need you to close your eyes.” 
He’s so obviously taken aback that you snort at him. “Just for a second, it won’t take long. Please.”
He complies and places his hands over his eyes to reassure you that they’re for sure closed and that he can’t see anything. Megumi hears you rummaging around in your bag that you kept at your feet, hears you tear something open, and then you fall quiet. 
You kind of want to throw up. You don’t know why this feels so difficult, why it’s making you so nervous. In the past, when Megumi was mean to you, you think that this might’ve been easier, because you’d be able to tell what reaction he would give. 
You can’t tell anymore. 
You collect yourself together before you speak up, finally, “Okay. You can look now.” 
He removes his hands to see you sitting sideways in your seat, to face him. Your feet are tucked beneath you and you hold out a sloppy, slightly smeared chocolate muffin with an unlit candle stuck on top. 
“Happy birthday, Dog Boy.” 
Your voice is so soft and quiet, and he feels something take over him for a second. It’s strong, this feeling of adoration and something else he’s too nervous to admit, even to himself. He’s about to ask how in the world you would know that today’s his birthday, because he didn’t even know- but then he remembers the night you had written it into your calendar. 
“You,” He begins, nearly breathless. “Thank you.” 
You smile up at him and scoot closer, pushing the muffin towards him so that he could take it. He does, and he removes the candle and puts it on the dashboard, letting it roll away carelessly. 
The muffin looks miniature in his big hands, which is to his advantage as he splits it into two, effortlessly. He offers you a piece and you take it with a big, gushy smile on your face. You don’t see him smiling back at you endearingly. 
You’re bashful like the two of you are having a lunch date in a school courtyard. You want to look at him, revel in his features, but you don’t want to be caught staring either. 
You throw yourself a bone and let yourself glance at him. He’s finished his piece, and all he’s doing now is swiping the crumbs off of his jacket. As he shifts around, you see a smudge of chocolate right by his lip. 
“Wait,” You start, leaning closer. “There’s frosting on your lip.” 
“Here?” He pokes his tongue out on the wrong side, and you have to bite back a little smile. 
“No, no- I’ll get it for you,” You offer, leaning in even closer to him, nearly crawling right on top. You stick your thumb out gently, your touch feather light as you bring it to the corner of his lip and wipe off the small spot of frosting. 
You linger on purpose, and his breath hitches. 
“Sunshine,” He breathes, hands frozen in the air. He’s unsure of where to put them. 
“Mhm?”
“Can I,” He starts, hesitates, then starts again. “Can I kiss you?” 
Your smile speaks for you, but the moment that you let out a breathy yes, he cups your face and slots his lips against yours. He’s so soft, despite it being winter and the both of you constantly dry and chapped. He holds you, moves you like you’re a glass doll, so cautious and gentle. Megumi begins to shift the both of you, sitting up before pushing you down onto the seat. 
It’s awkward. The truck is so small, the both of you clunking around, but you two take it like champs. He breaks away to give a little laugh against your lips, easing the tension, and it’s so wonderful, so beautiful, that you waste no time pulling him back down to kiss him just a bit harder. 
You figure that he’s hesitant, and you appreciate that he isn’t pushy and trying to cross all boundaries at once. You know that if you only wanted to kiss and call it a night, he’d be perfectly okay with that. 
But you’re as greedy as ever, and you want more of him. 
You start playing with his lips, pulling away to softly bite at them, dart your tongue across the bottom one. It makes him freeze for a second, feelings of surprise and excitement engulfing his heart, but then he indulges. Megumi gently pulls your bottom lip into his mouth and sucks on it, thumb softly caressing your jaw. 
And you’re so starved, having gone months without even shaking someone’s hand. His actions make you gasp out softly, and he feels driven to pull more out of you. 
Megumi catches himself in his thoughts and pulls away again, “This- Is this okay?” 
You’re melting beneath him. You nod rapidly, begging silently. “Yes,” You huff out, precious smile coming across your lips. “Please.” 
He nods and then dives back in to kiss you square on the lips before moving lower, planting kisses down your neck as much as he can before your puffy parka interrupts him. He smiles fondly and looks up at you, seeing if you would notice the obstruction. 
“Oh,” You let out, face hot. “Sorry.” 
You’re so embarrassed, but Megumi thinks he could just eat you up. 
You prop yourself onto your elbows as best as you can, messily unzipping the jacket and flinging it away. It’s not like it goes far, anyway. You hear the zipper scratch against the glove compartment as you thrash it away, and it makes the both of you laugh breathily. 
You watch as he takes it upon himself to do the same, undoing the buttons on his own jacket before carelessly tossing it behind him. The two of you are now just in long sleeves and cargo pants, and he looks at you with an inkling of concern. “It’s still cold,” He whispers, now that he’s lowering himself back over you, “Leave it on, yeah?” 
You want nothing more than to rip your shirt off, but you know he’s right. You know that if you take it off, the bite of the cold would probably dampen your mood. 
You can only nod obediently, eyes begging him again, for a kiss. 
Megumi sneaks back down again to pick up where he left off, kissing along your neck and down to your collarbone before your shirt blocks off the rest of your chest from him. He’s moved his hands lower to rearrange your legs, to make it more comfortable for the both of you, and you’re so pliant beneath him, wanting all of his touches. 
His hands reach the button of your pants, “I’m gonna…” he starts, but never finishes. He’s caught up in the way you lift your hips to help him slide down your pants, caught up in the sight of you in your underwear. 
As soon as he tugs them off and pushes them to the side, you hiss as the cool air kisses your skin, and he’s quick to soothingly rub at your thighs, hands trailing down to your calves. 
“I know,” He soothes, warming you up. “I know, baby.” 
Megumi wants to take it slow, he wants to be able to ride out the moment, but the way you whimper at his touch pushes him. “Fuck- fuck, okay.” 
His movements and options are limited due to the space of the truck. He can’t necessarily do everything he wants with you, but he's grateful for the moment regardless. 
He moves back down to kiss you, slightly softer this time, with his forearm propped beside your head to keep him up, and his other trailing up and closer to the space between your thighs. Just the movement of his fingers gently dragging across your clothed cunt is enough to have you rutting up into his hand, desperate for more, tired of his slow pace. He’s swallowing all your sounds, but he pulls back as soon as he slips his hand beneath your panties, wanting to hear you this time. Cold fingers meet your folds and you twitch, legs nearly closing around his hand, and he smiles as he tuts at you. “Relax,” He breathes out against your jaw before softly nipping at it, kissing it. 
You’re already wet, and he smiles to himself cheekily before lazily rubbing his fingers against your entrance to slicken them. It makes you sigh out, so pretty and light, and he just loves the way your chest rises and falls. 
What he loves even more, though, is the moan you let out the second that he starts circling your clit, the way your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders. You’re trying to push yourself up against him, trying to feel more, but all he does is smile into your neck, absolutely basking in the way you need him so badly. 
“Please,” You finally cave, voice airy as you softly drag your nails across his back to get his attention. “More, please, I want- I want you.” 
He reaches up to plant a kiss on the corner of your lips. “All you had to do was ask.” 
He smoothly pulls down your underwear entirely, and just the sight of your arousal clinging onto the cotton fabric is enough to have him swallowing, adam’s apple bobbing. Megumi slips only his middle finger into your core at first, and it’s enough to satisfy you for now, walls fluttering. His fingers are so long, and you think about just how big his hands are, and it’s enough to make you whine in your own little fantasy. 
He takes his time in pumping it in and out of you before slipping his ring finger inside, picking up the pace. Your thighs tighten around his hand and you sloppily try to pull him down closer to you, hiding your face into the crook of his neck as he curls his fingers. The palm of his hand presses against your clit and you cry out, fingers latching onto his hair as you start your little spiel of babbles. 
“Right there, right there, oh my god, there, there-”
You cut yourself off as he speeds up, your cute little incoherent sounds encouraging him. He wishes he could see your face, see the look in your eyes, but you can only squeal into his shoulder and knock your knees against his legs as you feel something within you tighten. 
“Right here?” He teases, fingers curling against your warm walls, and the feeling of it is enough to make him hang his head low, panting, cock straining at the thought of how you’d feel around him. 
“Mhm,” You choke out, too far gone to try and say something to tease him back. Your head drops back onto the seat and you feel your back arch up against him, heat swarming in your abdomen as you chant out breathily- Yes, yes, yes. 
Megumi feels you tense up, and then you’re twitching, crying into him as you come undone all over his fingers, earning a groan from him. He works you through it, lets you have your fun before your vision is blurring and you’re half heartedly pushing his hand away. 
You fall limp beneath him and watch him with a hazy mind as he brings his fingers up to his lips, lapping at them, sucking them clean. 
You turn your head to the side, suddenly feeling shy. He smiles down at you, “Don’t try to be modest, now.” 
It makes you laugh weakly, makes you swat at his chest so softly that it feels like a mere tap. He dips back down to pepper the junction of your neck and shoulder in kisses, occasionally licking and biting, hoping little bruises bloom across your skin. 
The both of you freeze when you feel something hard poke at the inside of your thigh. 
Megumi groans, and you know he’s embarrassed. He buries his face into the side of your neck, hand slipping beneath your shirt to massage at your waist. 
You want him now, fast, before the two of you call it a night, and you want to call out for him. 
But you can’t just say Dog Boy, please fuck me. 
It makes you wince at yourself, but you’re too shy to ask for his name now. 
“Baby,” You finally breathe out, your hand running up and down his arm. 
He hums contentedly into your neck. 
“Need you,” You start quietly, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your heat. “Need you inside me.” You swear you hear him groan a low Fuck right into your skin. 
He heaves himself up, eyes glossed over with lust and a glint of something that makes your heart skip a few beats, but you don’t want to jump the gun with that just yet. You can only hope that he sees the same thing in your eyes, too. 
Megumi sloppily works on undoing his pants, heaving a content sigh when you rushedly swat his hands away and take the task into your own hands. 
He stuffs his pants past his knees, frantically trying to kick them off his legs as fast as he can. 
You nearly whine at the sight of him, like this, all for you, in front of you. 
He moves down to kiss you, pushing you back down to the seat, making sure you were lying comfortably. He takes his cock into his hand, smoothing it over your wet folds back and forth to prep himself. 
You’re panting, lifting your hips, urging him on. 
He finally aligns himself with your slit, but pauses for a second. 
“Megumi.” 
“H-Huh?” 
“My name’s Megumi,” He suddenly confesses as he pushes his tip in slowly. 
You think you carry the universe in your chest. It feels like it’s expanding, endlessly, painfully- a delicious type of pain. You’re too caught up in the newfound intimacy of learning his name that your jaw goes slack as soon as you feel him bottom out within you, breaking you from your trance. 
You feel so full. 
“Megumi,” You cry unabashedly, moving your hips, encouraging him to move. 
He groans, big hands planting themselves on your hips as he begins with slow thrusts, drawing out the feeling. He hits all the right places, but the pace he’s going at is devastating.
You’re whining, begging, babbling out for him to go faster, to fuck me, please, please Megumi, and the sound of your pretty voice crying out his name is enough to drive him insane. 
He loves torturing you, really. Loves the way you cry for him, the way you clench around him, the way your voice shakes. 
Megumi sets a fast pace, rutting into you like you’re the outlet for all his pent-up feelings. You’re squealing, and when the tip of his cock hits the spot that sends you around the world and back, you feel tears blur your vision. 
“Feels s-so good, Megumi,” You chatter dumbly, too lost in the feeling and the sounds he’s making. 
“Yeah?” He strains, grip tightening on your hips. “Look so pretty like this, baby. So fucking- oh, god- pretty.”
He enunciates his statement with a particularly hard thrust that has your toes curling, your hands tight on his biceps before he moves to fold you in half, squeezing you into a mating press as best as he can. His eyes zero in on where the two of you meet as he tries to etch the sight into his memory. 
“Megumi,” You cry weakly, “So much, so so good, so- ah!”
You can’t even form a single coherent sentence, and he thinks you’re so adorable. He watches as fresh tears cascade down the path of dried ones, and it only spurs him further. The two of you are so pathetically desperate to reach your orgasms, you don’t even mind when his thrusts become sloppy and off-kilter, when he starts groaning and even lets out the prettiest of sounds when you flutter around him. 
You manage to collect yourself for just a second. 
“Please fill me up,” You beg, nodding dumbly to egg him on. “Wanna- wanna feel you cum inside me, wanna- oh, fuck, fuck, baby, please-” 
He knows it’s probably not the smartest idea, but he’s too caught up in chasing his pleasure, and your little begs and mewls make his movements stutter before he finally stills inside you, pressing your thighs to your chest to steady himself. 
“Take it, baby. Fucking- god- take it.”
“Mhm,” You nod frantically, static invading your vision, “Make me yours, please, make me- I’m, oh, I’m yours,” You’re running your mouth nonsensically, and the feeling of his seed spilling inside of you is enough to push you past the edge until you’re crying and shaking beneath him. 
He wants to hear you say it for forever, telling him that you’re his. 
He leans in to kiss your forehead, “Say it again.” 
You think you could pass out, chest still heaving up and down as you come back down from your high, but you would do anything to please him. “‘M yours.” 
Megumi smiles to himself before he pulls out, the sensation pulling a hiss from you as he lets you relax your legs and tries to clean the both of you to the best of his ability, considering the circumstances. 
He helps you slide your panties back on, maneuvers your legs for you so that you can tug on your pants, worried that you’ll get cold fast. 
You let him take charge, too exhausted to even move. Megumi splays across the seat and pulls you into his chest, trying to pull his jacket over the two of you like a blanket. 
“Megumi,” You say sleepily, cheek smushed against the spot where his heart beats. He hums, encouraging you to go on. 
“My name,” You start, “My name is (Y/N).” And, before you let him speak, you turn your head to look up at him with a cheeky little smile. “Does this make us friends, now?” 
He laughs. It’s your favorite sound.
“I hope we can be more than friends.” 
You hum affirmatively and kiss his earlobe before nestling against him, falling asleep.
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The days are filled with love and gestures of affection after that night. Megumi is more comfortable now, though sometimes he pinches your side gently whenever you slip up and accidentally call him Dog Boy. He tells you that he demands reparations for your wrongdoings- he specifies that he would like to be paid back in kisses. 
Whenever you call him a sap, he pinches your side again. 
Although the two of you seem to be in your own little world, lost in love, the outer world has not changed. You add another step to your nightly routine, right before you go to sleep; Check the radio. 
Megumi leaves it propped on the dashboard at all times and frequently asks you to try and catch a signal so that the two of you can hear some news. Day after day, you find yourselves unlucky. You’re always greeted by the same crackle and fuzz. 
He’s been thinking hard lately, and you can see it. He’s always a little distracted, late to respond to you, or sometimes not even listening altogether. 
He’s thinking that at this rate, it may be smarter to settle down. To find somewhere to stay, to wait out the situation. Surely, with time, the zombies should die out. This cannot last forever. 
And while you’re splitting the food or reading outdated magazines that he grabbed for you at the store, he’s facing his own little mental battles. He knows that you dream of a better future, with people coming together and starting anew. And he knows that you’re becoming even more hopeful now that you’ve reached North and the camp should be within your sights at any time, but the journey itself is not promising. It’s colder, storms more often, the truck shakes and does not shield you from the cold all that well when the two of you are asleep. Megumi is nearly positive that the best idea, for now, is to settle down somewhere and to at least let the season pass. 
He’s promised himself that he’ll bring it up to you on this particular morning, as the snow kisses the windows and fights against the weak attempts of the windshield wipers. You’re rummaging through a magazine, reading it over for the nth time and trying to fill out one of the crossword puzzles you had previously left empty for times like this. 
“(Y/N),” He starts, mouth dry as he glances at you before looking back at the road. 
“Hm?”
“I’ve been thinking, recently…”
As he pauses to collect what he wants to say, you giggle to yourself. “I know. You always look kind of constipated, you know? You’re not very good at hiding it, Megs.” 
His face flushes red, and the both of you know it’s not from the cold. He appreciates that you’re not upset that he’s been keeping things to himself as of late, but he thinks he could’ve gone without the playful comment. 
“Anyway,” He stresses, though he doesn’t feel so panicky anymore. He strictly keeps his eyes trained in front of him, on the road, following the short, yellow lines that divide it down the middle. 
“I think… think we should settle down. The winter is only going to get harsher, and this truck is so old, I’m not sure how long it’ll last. We can find some place to stay- there’s empty houses everywhere- and we can sit out until the season is over. It’ll be safer that way.” 
His proposition hangs in the air. You’re awfully quiet, and for a second he wonders if you were even listening. 
“Megumi- pull over.” 
“Huh? What?” 
“Just- just stop the truck.” 
He thinks you’re angry, but you don’t sound it. He rushedly puts the truck into park and tries to catch a glimpse of your face, to see how you feel. 
You look focused. You don’t even bother to look at him; you’re looking past him.
He confirms that you probably weren’t even listening to what he said when you ask, “Do you see that? Over there?”
“See what?”
“That… that big white thing, like… look.” You point your finger in the general direction of what you see. 
“(Y/N), everything’s white- it’s snowing-”
You hush him, “No, no. It’s huge...it’s..”
You don’t finish. You’re tired of squinting to try and make out the shape of what you see, so you haul the truck door open and spill out of it clumsily, the snow catching you. Fear, hope, adrenaline, excitement; it swallows you whole and you think you could throw up. You trudge towards the front of the truck, snow pulling on your boots like it’s begging you to stay. 
Megumi follows after you, worried as to why you’re frozen in place, pushing past the clingy snow. Your name catches in his throat before he gets to call out to you. He finally sees what you see, just a few yards away. 
Children. Young, healthy looking children. They’re running around, squealing and throwing snow at each other, little hands covered in gloves and big, puffy jackets slowing down their movements. He sees people calling out to them, ushering them inside big tents- tents.
They’re caked with snow, but positively scattered all over the place. He sees people peeking out, zipping them up, running straight out of them to dive into inches of fresh snow.
You’re rushing back to the truck, feeling weightless as you snag your backpack from the passenger seat and haul it with you as you try to run past Megumi, towards the people. “Hurry, Megumi!” You call, a smile so evident in your voice. 
“I have to show them my calendar!” 
181 notes · View notes
littlestarconch · 1 day
Text
Sense of Longing
Pairing : Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel x Reader
→ Hurt/Comfort ; Headcanon form ; Separate ; Established Relationship
🪄 :: Cruel 😭 , Now I feel guilty for even thinking about leaving.
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Xavier
Literally turning the world upside down trying to find you.
Sleeping away his desires.
Sometimes he would even hallucinate that you're in front of him.
There are days where he dreamt about you, but then he woke up— making him felt even more lonelier than before.
Fighting wanderers even more aggressively due to his mind is only filled with you, who did not respond to his texts, nor read them!
It left him devastated, though he may not show them physically.
But his actions are getting more and more reckless each day that passes without you.
There are also times where he got injured because of this recklessness.
And you know what he did? He left it as it is, just letting it heal by 'itself'.
Your return— feels unreal for him
It feels like it's a dream, he was sleeping like usual, but hearing your voice woke him up.
It took him a good minute to realize he's not dreaming.
He would talk to you like how he usually is in his dreams, that is until he felt your warmth on his skin.
He stared at you, his hand unconsciously reached out to your arms.
When he' sure enough that it's actually you— be prepared because he will pull you into his arms.
Heavens! He will refuse to let go even! You have to push him away if you want to breathe.
But I believe y'all won't push him away.
Ever since your return, your first week is filled with Xavier just clinging onto you everywhere you go.
Not quite literally, but you get me.
Sleeping, with you in his arms, is a must.
If not, he will not be able to go to sleep.
Also please comfort him, he had been sleep deprived ever since the day you left without saying anything </3
He longed to be comforted in your arms, feeling your fingers running through his hairlocks.
He longed for listening to your heartbeat, listening to your voice.
He missed them, too much that it hurts.
He didn't realize how much he missed you until you appeared again in front of him.
Zayne
Working.
Doing his thing like usual, though, he will unconsciously look over his phone to see the long waited notification from a certain someone.
When he did not see anything, he, felt quite, weird at first.
Is it worry? Is it sadness? What is it??
At first he will simply shook the feeling away.
But he will no longer able to ignore them after a week have passed.
A week without any news from you left him confused and worried.
He will also not show this feeling, he is literally so stoic no one would be able to figure out he's actually missing you.
Even he, himself, didn't realize he missed you.
He buried himself in his work, staying up late. Even went as far as pulling an all nighter.
There are days where he accidentally fell asleep in his office due to the lack of sleep he gets.
He will still, unconsciously look over his phone to see if there's anything news coming from you despite him burying himself in work.
Other doctors and nurses is definitely worried about him, he had not left the hospital for a long time.
They literally had to send him home to make him go take a proper rest.
Since your disappearance, he would try do things that you usually do.
But everytime he did so, his mind wander off to the memory of being together with you.
Your smile, your voice, your touch.
He missed them.
A lot.
And he is well aware of how much he needed to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your touch once more.
Your return— made him want to immediately pull you into his arms and never let you go.
Upon seeing you in front of him, he wanted to just engulf you into his hold, and just stay like that till he let go and probably will be more than 30 minutes.
But he kept the feeling down by checking if you have any injuries while you were gone.
If you confirm there are no injuries, he will let out his desperation.
Of how much he missed you, slowly approaching you.
His hand on your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand brushed against the lines of your cheek.
Do the same to him, holding his face with both of your hands.
You will see how he just melt into your hold, kissing your palm as he pulled you even closer to him.
Soon he finally engulfed you into his arms, burying his face to the crook of your neck.
Whispering how much he missed you.
Make sure you spare some time for him now, because he will not let you go.
Rafayel
Good God.
He is very worried. Like literally. But on the first week, he would be quite grumpy of how you're not even reading his messages.
But after 2 weeks of no news from his favorite bodyguard turned his angry thoughts to worry.
He had stopped painting after a week have passed without any texts coming from your side.
His mind could not think of any inspiration, all he could think about is just,
Where are you? Are you hurt?
So many thoughts coming through his mind, but he tried to push them off by telling himself that you can handle yourself without any help from him.
But even so, that did not calm his mind at all.
There are days where he went to the beach at late night.
Watching the seas as his mind wanders off thinking about you.
The studio felt so cramped despite the large size, is it because of the messiness in it?
He refuses to clean up the mess, since he thought that no one will come to visit anyway.
You are literally just, disappeared without a trace, and not even saying a single word to him.
It left him devastated.
He is not aware how much he missed you, he thought that he can handle by being himself like how he used to be.
But you proofed him wrong.
Your return— made him realize how much he missed you.
He couldn't even get angry at you because of how much he longed to see you.
Hearing your voice alone washes the worry away and replaced them with relief.
If you ever ask about him being angry, he will immediately say he's not.
He couldn't.
Not when this feeling of longing overtakes him.
He wants to hold you, and will ask if he can hold you.
Once he gets a yes, he will pull you into his arms.
And let out a shaky breath, feeling you in his arms felt surreal for him.
Hearing your voice, feeling your warmth engulfed his figure.
He realized how much he needed this.
The world no longer colored in grey, the colors have returned, along with his inspiration.
Everything has gone back to it's place, because his muse have returned into his arms.
©littlestarconch
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🪄 :: This is messed up bro 😔
214 notes · View notes
justauthoring · 13 hours
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a promise he'll keep.
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requested! -> also “who did this to you” with astarion would go absolutely bonkers. food for thought requested by! -> @the-sunflower-room
a/n -> thank you for your request! i saw your other one as well and definitely plan on writing it hopefully soon! also! i literally have been in love with this man since the game came out but im so nervous about writing for him i never gained the courage... tho, meeting neil yesterday made it feel like its only write i finally commit and write to him!
tw -> mention of blood, bruises and cuts/violence
pairing -> astarion x f!reader/tav
blood poured from the rather large cut across the side of your forehead, staining your skin and seeping into the tiny cuts littered across your cheek and jaw. bruises lined your neck, in the shape of a hands, and astarion was sure that the rest of your body mimicked the damage across your face.
armour torn, shaking and hurt, astarion's heart burns with a rage he's not felt in a long time.
long ago had he forgotten about the bloodlust of fighting. long ago had he healed from the trauma of his past. years had passed since astarion had first met you and years had passed since the both of you, along with the rest of your companions, healed yourselves from the parasites in your mind and effectively, saved the world.
your bodies had never quite healed though. the trauma of what you'd both experienced had never faded and most likely never would. you'd both accepted that as a fact of your lives and used each other as a means of healing from it.
it had been years since astarion has seen you bloodied and hurt like this, and it feels ten times worse then it ever had before. never a fighter, the second you'd no longer been forced to fight for survival, astarion knows you'd given up that part of your life.
you were strong. there was no doubting that. you could hold yourself and you'd proved that well enough given what you'd done for the world and most importantly, your companions. more than anything, you'd proved that with how you saved astarion from his tormentor and the horror of his past.
but you look so vulnerable in that moment; broken and hurt and bruised and his chest tightens, nails digging into the palms of his hands as the rage coarses through him, burning his veins and has him desperate to make whoever hurt you pay.
painfully.
"who..." and his words hesitate, the fire his chest making it hard to find his words. he doesn't want you to think any of his anger is directed at you... "who did this to you?"
you twitch at his words, arms coming around to hold yourself as you shiver, hesitating.
astarion's face falls.
taking a step towards you, he reaches out for you, hands moving to cup your cheeks, gently and wary of your wounds. he worries you'll pull away, given how afraid you are, but you know astarion and recognize his touch and some of the rage fades with concern and love for you as you lean into his touch.
his fingers work to brush the blood from your face, get rid of the dirt and grime that clings to your skin and tries to soothe you.
your eyes flutter shut in response.
"i'm sorry," astarion whispers. "i'm sorry, i don't mean to scare you."
you shake your head, humming in disagreement. "you didn't scare me."
astarion hates the way your voice trembles.
"i don't want you getting hurt for me," you explain. "you don't deserve that."
and astarion shakes his head. "it doesn't matter if it's you." he assures and he frowns when he realizes he might've not made that clear enough. he had a lot to make up for if you think that he wouldn't do anything for you. "i can't let them get away with hurting you like this."
"i'm okay," you try to deny.
astarion just tightens his grip on you, not enough to hurt you, of course, but enough to pull your attention on him. "you're not," he argues, desperate for you to understand how much it pains him to see you hurt like this. "you're bleeding, y/n. and fuck... you're hurt, badly. it breaks my heart to see you like this."
your eyes fall on him at that. wide eyes meeting his own as your lips part, as if shocked by his admission. maybe shocked wasn't the word—he likes to think the expression on your face is one of reassurance at how much his heart burns with love for you.
the tears that you'd been holding back fall then, your bravety and strength fading at astarion's warming and soothing words. they build at the corner of your eyes and astarion is quick to brush them away.
"i'll never let them hurt you again," he promises then, meaning every word of what he says. he says them with confidence, desperation and sincerity, eyes softening with a plea as he holds onto you, afraid you might slip from his very fingers. "them or anyone else."
your hand grabs his, squeezing.
"i know," you whisper, "this isn't your fault."
he just shakes his head; "it's whoever did this to you's fault," he assures, although the twinge of guilt that festers in his belly is undeniable. he should've been there with you, keeping you safe; even if you knew you were capable of keeping yourself safe... having him there would've assured him and would've stopped this from ever happening.
"y/n," he calls again, voice soft, measured and even as he stares into your eyes and doesn't let you pull away. "who did this to you?"
and your lips part, breathing shakily but there's an ease that washes across your expression and then the names of the men who hurt you come pouring from your lips.
astarion memorizies them, keeps them trapped in his mind as he nods. "thank you." and he is thankful. thankful that you trust him to do what he'd promised. thankful that you know he won't fail you.
"i'll make it better, okay?" he whispers, his thumb stroking across your cheek as he pulls you into his arms, a hand falling on the back of your neck to press you into his chest. "i promise."
you hum your response, leaning into his touch before letting him guide towards your home so he can dress and clean your wounds.
and most importanly, shower you in the love you deserve.
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ghoulishneeds · 2 days
Text
✦Double Feature ✦
Cooper Howard x F! Reader
Cw: dubcon, violence ig, uh blood, piv, skullfucking, restraints, knife (briefly), choking, hair pulling
Summary: You’ve been picked up by Cooper and he intends to sell you for a bounty. (Plot if you squint)
WC: 2.6k+ (I went a little over board)
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Ask: can you do something for cooper being rough
((Oh boy can I.))
——————————————————————
You squint against the sun, raising a hand to shield your eyes from it. Pain thrumming in your right shoulder. Your eyes adjust in time to catch the brown leather of his boot before it collides with your jaw.
——————————————————————
You’d been running your mouth all day.
Every time he’d fuckin moved, you’d had something to say about it. You weren’t sure if it was the constant, close proximity to each other, the unforgiving heat, or the knowledge he was about to sell you for a bounty, but everything was getting under your skin. You hated the desert. Hated him. You hated his cocky, fuck-em all attitude. Hated that the way he looked at you set your fucking blood on fire.
He’d barely spoken the entire journey, yet any time he did, you couldn’t swallow back some shitty little retort you’d had ready.
Up till this point, you’d maintained some level of feigned compliance. To a point, a part of you liked pissing him off. But, you knew who he was. The Ghoul. A fucking legend in the Wasteland. A killer.
But today you had felt braver. Or maybe the heat had just baked off the rest of your common sense.
He’d already told you to shut up once. And you had, for a small while. But his pace was slowing down, and the wheezing cough, signifying it was time for his next Rad-away dose, echoed back off the crumbling building along the roadway.
You had watched him fumble through his bag and had found it almost amusing. The most dangerous man in the Wasteland was one missed dose away from falling apart. It was ironically humanizing.
You watched him desperately consume the Rad-away and he stood straight again. You made it all of five steps before you found yourself laughing. When it echoed back to you it sounded hollow and mean in your own ears.
He’d stopped so suddenly you collided with him. Bracing your hands against his back for stability.
Your heart rate jumped. You could quite literally feel the mistake settling over you. When you looked up at him, he was glaring at you over his shoulder, eyes whiskey brown in the sun.
You hesitated before the step back, pulling your hands away from him. “I-“
Cooper turned to face you. The tension in the air was making it hard for you to breathe. You took another step back.
“Darlin’ I’ve told you once to shut your fuckin mouth haven’t I?” His voice was low and honeyed. Your pulse jumped again. He stepped in closer, eyes burning into yours. Your mouth was impossibly dry, chest rising and falling rapidly.
He looked at you expectantly. Was he waiting for a response? “…yes” You dropped your eyes.
“And here you are, still runnin that fuckin mouth.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head in exaggerated disappointment.
He’d hit you fast and hard, knocking you off your feet, your shoulder collided with the ground painfully.
——————————————————————
Your head is reeling after the kick, you struggle to focus your eyes again. He’s crouching over you, hands resting on his knees. He watches you with this intense, heated look while you push yourself up onto your elbows. As you try to catch your breath, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, making the air around you almost unbearable. You look up at him, your heart racing in your chest, and suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation. You were lucky he hadn't killed you yet.
"I don't like repeatin myself sweetheart." He says it almost sweetly. "If you can't keep that pretty mouth shut, how bout I keep it busy."
You swallow hard, feeling the words settle around you. His gaze is intense, like a branding iron searing into you. You know you have to say something, but your mind goes blank. “I-“
You know what he's implying, you're not stupid. The tension between the two of you had been building for too long, and this had been the boiling point.
Your eyes follow him as he stands up. He grabs you by the elbow and half drags you up into a kneeling position. When you try to fully stand, he presses his hand into your sore shoulder and pushes you back down. You look up at him, shame rolling over you. Your cunt is throbbing in time with your aching head now. He smirks down at you, unhitching the lasso from his hip. You watch as he loops it around his hand, the leather of his glove creaking slightly as he tightens it.
He steps in behind you, roughly pulling your arms behind your back. He pulls your wrists tight together, putting strain on your shoulders, and loops the rope around them. The rough rope burns against your tender skin, but you can't help the wave of arousal that rolls through you.
You feel him step back, releasing the pressure on your wrists. You try to pull your arms free, but they're tied tightly together. You can feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin. You turn your head slightly, looking over your shoulder at him.
He staring down at you, a hungry predatory look in his eyes. You swallow hard. A different kind of heat settling in your core. He steps back around, in front of you. "You ain't got anything to say now honey?" He asks, voice dripping with sarcasm. You meet his eyes indignantly.
Your heart is racing as you spit at him. Panic and arousal mixing into something primal in your blood.
He laughs, not bothering to wipe the spit away. Grabbing your face tight enough to make your jaw ache, he pulls you towards his crotch, his other hand fisting in the hair above your neck. "Can't tell if you're brave or stupid." He holds your gaze for a moment. “But I'd lay money on stupid."
He lets go of your face and undoes his belt, briefly fumbling one-handedly with the buckle. He audibly groans when his cock springs free. He's already hard, shiny pre-cum smearing the tip. Saliva floods your mouth and you look up at him again.
His expression is almost unreadable, aside from the fire in his eyes. He moves his free hand to his hip and unsheathes a jagged hunting knife. Your pulse quickens to a panicked rate, breath coming in sharp pants. “See this here sugar, is a serrated blade.” His voice is low and rough. “It doesn’t just slice,” he presses the blade against your cheek “it tears.”
Hot panic almost makes you drool as you watch him resheath it. “I’m tellin you once, don’t you go thinkin about biting.”
Your eyes meet his again. “Yes sir.” You don’t recognize your own voice, strained and rough. He smirks, clearly pleased with your submission. “Atta girl.”
Cooper’s hand tightens in your hair again, maneuvering you closer to his cock.
“Don't make me tell you what to do darlin’." His voice is a low growl above you. You swallow once and open your mouth obediently.
His fingers sift through your hair, guiding your mouth closer to his cock. As you lower your head, his tip grazes against your lips. You steal a glance at him, he's watching you with a heated gaze. You lean forward, feeling the hot, heavy head of his cock pressing against your tongue. Your eyes widen as you taste the pre-cum on his tip. You slowly start to take him into your mouth, your tongue sliding over the shaft. Coop watches you intently, his eyes darkening as you take him deeper into your mouth. You can feel his fingers tighten in your hair, urging you on. You wrap your lips around him, sucking lightly as you begin to bob your head.
He's been as patient as he's capable of being. He places his free hand alongside the other, on the back of your head. Stepping in closer, he pushes himself further down your throat. You gag, pulling against your bindings. His head drops back and he groans. You try to relax, willing yourself to take more of him. He grips your head and withdraws his cock slowly, before sliding it back down your throat. He quickly sets a rhythm, fucking himself down your throat.
As he continues to thrust his hips, his cock slides in and out of your mouth. You try to keep up with the pace, gagging occasionally but unable to pull away. You can feel the saliva dripping from your chin, mixing with his pre-cum. You can tell he’s close. His thrusts are sharper, shallower. You try to swallow around him and the constriction makes him groan. You can’t ignore the throbbing between your legs.
Your hips keen forward, against nothing while he buries himself in your throat. You feel him tense up as he nears his climax. His grip in your hair tightens, and he growls low in his throat. He pulls you forward, pushing himself as far as he can down your throat. He's so far down your throat, you don't taste it when he cums.
He hesitates for a moment before he withdraws his cock and you cough as he takes a step back, throat feeling raw and used.
He lets out a low whistle. "That mouth is good for somethin after all huh." He's smiling. You're panting and staring up at him. The taste of him lingers in your mouth, making you feel uncomfortably aroused. You glance away, trying to find some semblance of control. Cooper chuckles, a dark sound that makes your pussy ache. Your hips push forward again, almost subconsciously. The motion doesn't go unnoticed.
He smirks and tuts "My my, I must say I almost think you're due some kinda reward for that darlin." He leans forward smiling again, and presses the toe of his boot against your crotch.
You whine, a high pitched, pathetic sound. He chuckles again. "Oh I like that sound a whole lot better."
You feel a wave of shame wash over you, but you can't help the response to his touch. He leans down, his lips close to your ear.
"You know what? I think I'll make it a double feature for you today."
He licks a long stripe from your collarbone to just below your jaw. He bites you, hard. You aren't expecting it and the pain is shocking. But fuck it feels kind of good? You gasp, grinding yourself against his boot. He runs his tongue over the now broken skin and growls. It's a low animalistic noise that brings on a new wave of need.
He abruptly stands, grabbing ahold of your bound wrists and roughly turning you away from him. He briefly pulls you back to him, rutting his cock against you. His breath is hot against your ear. "Gunna be good for me?" His voice is rough against your ear and your back arches. He slides his hand around your throat, establishing a good grip. "Hm?" It was almost a purr. After several laborious breaths you whimper out a "Yes sir."
He smirks, pleased with your response. "Good girl." He shoves you down, pressing your face against the sand. He hooks an arm under your stomach, heaving you onto your knees. After a moment he, albeit somewhat awkwardly, gets your pants off.
You almost sigh as the cooler air hits your burning core. "Whew. Look. At. That." He punctuates each word with a smack to your wet pussy. You're not sure when he took his gloves off but the rough texture of his hand swatting your cunt makes you gasp and jerk away from him. He laughs and drags you back towards him by your wrists.
He slides a finger through your wet folds and exhales roughly. You’re embarrassingly wet. Slick gathering at your entrance and threatening to run down your thigh. “Downright sloppy.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and your face burns with embarrassment.
Teasing your clit briefly, before pushing two fingers into you. He exhales between his teeth, almost a hiss. The ghoul withdraws his fingers and quickly lines himself up at your entrance. He slides himself through your folds, rubbing the head of his cock over your clit before he thrusts himself into you.
He wastes no time in setting a brutal pace, allowing you no time to adjust to the size of him. A strained whine escapes you, your hands twitching in the grip he has on your wrists. His hand cracks down on your ass cheek, you bite back a whine.
You feel his hand squeeze your ass, and he leans down, pressing his weight over you. "That's it, darlin. Take it. Take what I got for you." His voice is like honey, coating your senses and making you feel weak in the knees. You hold back the moan threatening to peel its way out of you at his words.
He’s getting frustrated with your borderline silence. “Now sweetheart, you were so ready to run your mouth earlier.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you back against him.
“Let me hear somethin.” You gasp as he pulls you back, the sting in your scalp making your eyes water. You try to swallow past the lump in your throat, but the words won't come. He growls low in his throat, a mix of frustration and desire. He continues to thrust into you, his hips slamming against you in a brutal rhythm.
You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your scalp and the burn of his thrusts. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, pushing your head to the side so he can bite down on your neck.
The noise you make is something between a moan and a scream. His thrusts slow into a grinding roll that makes your eyes roll back. He moves to the other side of your neck and repeats the action and elicits a similar sound. "Mm that's my girl." Your back arches at his words.
He pulls back and picks his pace back up. His thrusts are becoming jerky and faster. Cooper leans over you, snaking an arm around you. His fingers find your clit and he slips his fingers over it in fast circles. You moan and try to push yourself back against him. You feel him slam into you, his hips driving against you in quick, hard thrusts. The feeling of his rough hands on your body mixed with the brutal pounding is overwhelming. You gasp for air, trying to ignore the sting of his bites as they mix with the ache in your body.
.
Your eyes roll back as the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming. You're close. His fingers pick up pace on your clit and he dotes a few particularly hard thrusts on you.
Heat floods your mind as your orgasm hits you, walls spasming around his cock. "Ha, fuck, that's it darlin'."
His pace stutters, his thrusts becoming sporadic and almost frantic.
"Fuck, gunna-" is the only warning you get before he cums, pulling you back against him hard.You feel the hot rush of him filling you up and groan.
His weight presses down on you, his breathing ragged as he tries to catch his breath. Struggling to catch your own, you note that you're still tied up. Cooper leans back, still almost panting, and pulls the knife out again. He cuts the rope loose and stands up.
As you lie there, taking in deep breaths, trying to recover from all of that, Cooper sheaths his knife and gives you a smug, satisified look.
You eventually get to your feet and redress yourself.
"Better get some rest darlin, we've got quite a bit of ground to cover tomorrow."
You look at him questioningly.
He smirks, a look of dark amusement settling in his eyes. "What? You didn't think you was off the hook for bein a good fuck?" He laughs, it sounds similar to your own, earlier laugh.
"Man's gotta make a livin sweetheart."
The sinking realization that you’re still being sold for a bounty hits you.
Maybe you’ll be able to get your way out of it.
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Note
sunlight ☀️
hii it’s me againn. could you also do tasm peter who is nerdy and nerdy reader? and it’s kind of like a meet cute at the library? that’s literally my dream 😔 (you can tell i’m in my spiderman kick again)
-🎀
love a good spiderman kick ☺️ hope you like it!
pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader word count: 1.4k tags: just fluff
The exam was next week, and Peter still hadn’t gotten a chance to so much as glance at the most helpful textbook. The only copy the library carried had been way over due for ages, and the damn things were way too expensive to buy. He hoped it would be back by today because the late fees would be so much worse after today’s cut off. So, into the library he strode to look for it for what felt like the millionth time. 
He was sure the librarian remembered him, and which book he was after, after so many attempts, so he went straight up to the desk. Peter raised his eyebrows in question, in hope. He wrung his hands together as the librarian gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “So?” he finally couldn’t help.
“You just missed it,” the librarian deadpanned. How could she be so damn calm? She must know his life depended on getting his hands on this book! Well, maybe not his life, but definitely his grade… important enough.
“What?! And you didn’t hold it for me or something?” “Hold it for you? What do you think this is, kid? We don’t take reservations.”
After a moment, though, she sighed in slight defeat, something akin to pity entering her hardened features. She gave a sideways nod toward the person standing at the other end of the desk. 
“Maybe she’ll share,” she whispered. 
Peter followed her look. His eyes landed on a girl. She looked mortified. Given the books lying next to her open backpack on the desk, she’d clearly been packing them up. At the top of the pile lay the coveted textbook. And she’d clearly overheard his whole exchange with the librarian. 
You lock your gaze onto the books in front of you. You could feel your cheeks warming, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally make eye contact with this stranger. This ridiculously attractive stranger you’d noticed in class before… Peter Parker… who had clearly had the same idea about the book being returned today…
You feel terrible at having snatched it up just before him. You hadn’t known someone else was after it, too, but you could’ve guessed, and it felt like pure luck that you got it first. You have no idea how to react, and before you can come up with any idea at all, you sense him stepping toward you and freeze in panic.
“Um, hey,” Peter whisper-says. God, why didn’t he just speak at a normal volume? He was in the library, sure, but just the entrance. He’s sure he sounded weird, and that’s the last thing he wanted after his little outburst clearly made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten the book before him. 
Your eyes dart up to meet his at his words, and when they do, his nerves increase tenfold. Your eyes are so damn pretty. All of you is. And you look half way to an anxiety attack at his approach. “Hey, sorry,” he tries. “Sorry, I know we don’t know each other, but I just… Um, well… Sorry about that,” he ends lamely, gesturing back to where his exchange with the librarian just occurred. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling awkwardly and tucking your hair behind your ears. You look back down at your hands, pulling at the too-long sleeves of your shirt. 
Peter’s hand comes up to his head, messing with his hair in a typical nervous tick. He can’t stop staring at you, and you can’t stop avoiding his stare. He had to say something else before the mounting awkwardness blew up. Why couldn’t he think of anything? God, why was his heart racing faster than it ever did when he had to fight giant, scary monsters? Somehow you were scarier. 
“Um,” he starts again. “You in, uh, you in Vidal’s biology class?” he ventures, guessing you need the book to study for the same exam as he. It blows his mind he hasn’t noticed you before if you are.
“Mmhmm,” you nod softly.
“Me too,” he says and cringes. “I don’t recognize you.” “Oh, I don’t know. I tend to sit in the back.” You finally look up at him as you say this. Your eyes meet, and it’s too much to handle. After what feels like an eternal instant, you both look away chuckling. 
Peter’s just nodding like an idiot, chewing his bottom lip, reeling for something else to say but failing miserably. At this point, the thought of getting the book has totally vanished from his mind. The fear of failing next week has been completely replaced with the fear of failing right now.  The idea of your walking away and his not getting to talk to you again makes his stomach sink.
You’re just staring at your hands, unsure what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. How do people just know what they’re supposed to do when other people are involved? 
You still feel really bad that you got the book first, and you figure he’s only still talking to you to ask when you’ll be done with it. The exam is so soon, you hadn’t really been planning to return it till after. But keeping it to yourself when he needed it too made your stomach twist. You didn’t even know him, but you wanted to help him. So, you mustered the courage to do something you know, from experience, you otherwise wouldn’t do.
You say softly, “If you want… um, I don’t know… maybe, we could share it?”
“What?” he responds, too quickly, confused, his voice nervously airy.
You’re not sure if he didn’t hear what you said — possible with how softly you’re speaking — or didn’t understand what you meant, so you don’t know what to say. Words are too hard, so you just grab the book — your hands grateful for something to do — and hold it up to him like an offering. 
“Oh!” he hiccups. Then, “Oh,” he says more quietly, chuckling lightly. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you. You got it first fair and square.” “Yeah,” you shrug. “But you need it, too, right?” 
“Yeah…” His mind begins stirring up images of the two of you studying together… maybe laughing together eventually… sitting closer together to both get a good look at the book… 
It’s making his heart beat faster, and he realizes he’d be an idiot to not seize the opportunity. It’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with you, and he doesn’t even have to ask you out. Yet. 
So, he quickly says, “Yeah, um, sharing would be great. If you don’t mind. I can just meet up with you whenever you were going to study anyway… Wherever is good for you; I don’t mind; you choose; whatever you prefer is good with me —” Having started, he can’t stop talking now, his nerves morphing into words, eager to leave his body. 
You giggle at his garrulousness, and he knows he’s in trouble when the sound of it makes his breath hitch. 
“Well,” you say. “I was planning to get started now… you know, since I’d been waiting to get my hands on the book. If you wanted to, um, maybe go to the café maybe?” 
You hadn’t in fact been planning to start right away. If you were honest with yourself, you’d been planning to put it off till you couldn’t not… like you always did no matter how hard you tried to get an early start. Note to self: the only cure you’ve found to procrastination so far: ridiculously pretty boys with warm eyes and a voice you could listen to forever. 
“Yeah, that’d be great. That’d be great,” he nods, smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully smile. You’d be happy to just hand him the book as long as you could watch him study, the exam be damned. 
“Great,” you repeat, grabbing your things and turning toward the café. Your eyes widen in panicked disbelief at what just happened. You glance slightly back just to make sure you hadn’t imagined it, and sure enough: Peter Parker is taking a quick step to follow you. He falls in step with you as you walk, and it’s terrifying and invigorating just how much you like the feeling of him close beside you.
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hangmansgbaby · 2 days
Text
Here’s my take…
Mamachasesmayhem is quite literally my best friend and my biggest supporter as well as I am hers.
We met literally because of the fanfics we write and became a solid foundation in each other’s lives.
The situation of the doxxing has hand me in literal tears of anger and sadness because you will NEVER find someone as supportive and loving and kind as Mo.
The person who doxxed Mo has what is coming to them. Karma is truly a bitch.
That being said I am officially retiring my tumblr out of support for Mo.
Truthfully I know that had I not been fired my job after essentially being doxxed by a coworker I thought I could trust, I fear I would have been next on this list.
If you would like to still support my fics and/or contact me for any reason you can find me at the links below:
AO3
Wattpad
Instagram
TikTok
I have not always enjoyed my time on tumblr but the friends and acquaintances I have made along the way were worth it.
I truly wish everyone who is pure of heart the best.
To the person who doxxed Mo,
God knows what you did, we all know what you did and you know what you did. Should you find it in your heart to repent and apologize, it will not repair what you did but Mo deserves better. This fandom deserves better.
Sincerely,
Every single person in the world
Well that's all! I'll be around here for a little bit to keep up with others who wish to, answer questions, and make sure nothing too crazy happens.
God speed y'all
xoxo,
Birdie
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boba-beom · 2 days
Note
All your posts are making me like 🫠 I think I reblogged all three keke
I need to shout about this... In the Miracle tiktok where Taehyun is dancing while SoobKai film with ILLIT... I don't know if he's eating or chewing gum but it looks like he's chewing gum and why is it so attractive to me. Now I've combined this with basketball Taehyun, thinking how hot it would be to watch him doing a solo practice, shooting and doing dribbling drills while casually making conversation with you, chewing gum the whole time. Am I crazy? Maybe, because before now, I'd probably say gum is gross.
WAIT but now I'm imagining this scenario is the first time you hang out after he sees you fraternising with the enemy (Yeonjun) and he's trying to act like it doesn't bother him that you gave him your number, only that you were clapping for the wrong team OKAY stop me and my imagination 😅 I love Taehyun
and I love you, so glad to see you're still around 💕
CEE I love you too! and I'm happy to see you around also <3 you have no idea how much I've been giggling to myself from your tags hehe :> thank you for the rbs and reading your reactions were fun too 🤭 and you saying that I make sport-centric fics fun for you to read is truly a huge compliment to me omg, I always get nervous because I'm not 100% sure about what I'm writing most of the time, so thank you ilysm 🫶🏼
ALSO reading this made my jaw drop because you're literally onto something with that omg. I noticed that too during soogyu's tiktok with ILLIT— it's the way taehyun does it so nonchalantly with the subtle chewing and it is kinda hot. I used to find people who do that quite obnoxious lmao, but like I can't stand if they're really smacking their gum, ygm? ANYWAY—
jealous bsf!taehyun x gn!reader, dialogue heavy
okay so, the first time you and taehyun hang out after the game is a couple of days later. he'd agreed to hang out with you at the park since you both had checked the weather in advance; it was sunnier than usual. you both decided to meet each other at your regular spot and you're not surprised to find taehyun already there, sitting on the grass and on his phone. usually he'd notice you when you walk up behind him, but it was almost like he'd purposely ignored you and waiting until you had to announce that you were there.
"tyun?" you sit beside him slowly leaning in to give him a usual hug when you greet each other but he gave you a lazy side hug. damn. "been waiting long?"
"no."
that's all you get? he pockets his phone, palms against the grass as he leans back chewing his gum nonchalantly and looking at the busy field in front of you. there seems to be a group of high schoolers training for soccer.
"um, are we good?" you ask quietly, heart pounding in your chest and a little afraid for the first time in forever.
he hums, eyes focused on the ball being passed from player to player.
"yeah, why wouldn't we?" his voice monotone but knowing taehyun, that was normal. "how's yeonjun. are you guys like text buddies now or something?"
now that wasn't what you were expecting. well shit. taehyun's mad and you don't know if that's all he has to say about it.
"no, tyun. he didn't even call me so I don't even have his number. I'm assuming he's busy is all. I wasn't really expecting much." you nudge his shoulder playfully, craning your neck in attempt to be in his visual field, but to no avail, his vision doesn't budge. you sit back in your original position, also watching the ball from afar. "does it bother you?"
you best friend scoffs, apparently he finds something humorous that you possibly missed.
"it doesn't. why'd you even talk to that guy anyway, you know he just does that to boost his ego because he lost the game." taehyun finally turns his head to look at you and you look at him within a fraction of a second, eyes holding eye contact for the first time that day.
"I'm sure he had good intentions-"
"good intentions." taehyun scoffs again, almost chuckles after he repeats it again. "that guy never has good intentions, ___. and I thought you were there to support me, then I catch you clapping for his three pointer."
your stomach churns a little from the guilt. you didn't know he saw that. and what do you even say? you thought it was impressive? you had a feeling yeonjun shot that shot for you?
"don't even try and think of some lame ass excuse because you know damn well I can tell when you're not telling me the truth." his voice assertive but his gaze on you softens, wanting you to be comfortable with him like you usually are.
you let out a deep sigh.
"he looked at me before that moment and I assumed he did that to impress me..." your voice trails off, trying to look at taehyun through your peripheral, not wanting to look at him directly. "I don't know tyun, he seemed pretty genuine and he's kinda cute too."
after explaining as honestly as you could, the air was filled with a short silence between the both of you and distant shouting and birds flying by.
"I can be kinda cute too." taehyun grumbles under his breath and you swear it wasn't some sort of auditory hallucination. that is what you heard, right?
"hm?" you turn to him, tilting your head to the side waiting for him to hopefully repeat himself.
"why'd you want him when I've been here all this time." his rhetorical reply left you blinking a couple of times, processing what exactly he's inferring. "in short, you have me. and I have you."
your chest starts heaving slowly. taehyun, your best friend, really said that. his fingers gently caresses yours, also supporting your weight on the grass while you both lean back.
the train of thought in your discombobulated mind is disrupted by him calling your name, now in a softer tone.
"so, what do you say? I'm willing to risk this friendship and try something more with you, ___. if you let me."
his says his confession, almost as if he's been yearning for you to be his for a while, but is it wrong that you still can't stop thinking about yeonjun?
"taehyun," you sit upright, holding his hand in yours. "I'm going to be honest with you, but promise me don't get mad."
the hope in taehyuns eyes disappears, feeling his heart sink to his stomach ready for your rejection. he nods.
"I love you, and always have, but that's because you're my best friend. and at the moment, yeonjun left quite the impression on me so he's still on my mind, but there's nothing much that helps him in his favour."
"so what you're saying is?" your fingers interlock with his, your thumb rubbing the back of his.
"is that I'm willing to try this with you, because, unlike you," you tease, "I like to give people chances."
you prod at his side as he exhales and rolls his eyes playfully.
"I couldn't risk you being whisked away before I even made a move on you." taehyun defends himself the best he could.
"no but really, from time to time I have felt like I've loved you more than a friend. so that's why I want to try, but can we take it slow?"
"yeah, of course. I'll just have to push yeonjun out your thoughts first." his comment makes you laugh.
taehyun's singular dimpled smile returns and it's contagious, he has you smiling back at him too. you didn't realise when you two ended up sitting closer to each other to close the gap, but you took the opportunity to lean your head on his shoulder.
"and you are kinda cute."
© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.
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Okay I just need to say that I knew I'd like this Tailstube as soon as I saw the thumbnail (after all, I am a Sonadails enjoyer, and Tails is literally in the middle of them in the thumbnail)
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But I think probably something that stood out the most to me when I watched it was just
The hints that Shadow and Tails have a relationship outside of Sonic??
The first thing that tipped me off to this was that not only did Tails convince Shadow to join in on his show, he also convinced him to stick around to its natural end?? You know, Shadow. The guy you can't force to do anything and frequently will just dip if he's bored or doesn't want to be there. But even while Sonic was annoying him and he made it clear he wanted the "interview" over with, he still never made a move to chaos control out of there because of any of this.
And the second thing that tipped me off was this:
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When Shadow is both confused and annoyed at Sonic, he chooses to complain to Tails about Sonic. And so Tails steps in to try to "explain" what Sonic meant by what he said (i.e he told Shadow something much nicer in the interest of getting them to be on better terms). The fact that he looks to Tails to complain to about Tails' own best friend and possibly even to explain that which he does not understand in a social context tells me just how highly he regards Tails. And since both Shadow and Sonic are being childish here, it's amusing to see Tails regarded as something closer to a trusted figure with more power here.
From an objective analysis standpoint, of course this means they have their own friendship. And this is a prospect I enjoy (The idea that Tails and Shadow are good friends)! It actually means a lot to me that Tails could form a frienship or bond with Shadow outside of the context of Sonic (in terms of who initiates it and for what reason it's initiated).
But, my friends, from a biased standpoint, I'm shipping trash. And to me this Tailstube was a fun show for Sonadails fans. Honestly, Tails staging this episode to get Sonic and Shadow to talk and "bury the hatchet", as well as how he acts during the show, read a lot to me personally like a guy trying to get his two boyfriends (who happen to be rivals) to get on better terms, if not just tolerate each other. I quite like the idea of Tails dating both of these idiots and just trying to get them to play nice when they're all together (although frankly I think the ideal scenario for Tails in my biased reading is that Sonic and Shadow get together as well).
This is also not to mention the dynamics showcased here! Sonic and Tails as best friends, with Sonic assuming that he and Tails were gonna talk shit about Shadow behind his back, and Tails trying to get him to play nicer. Shadow and Tails as friends, with Tails trying to convince him why he and Sonic are in the perfect position to become friends and helping him out socially, and with Shadow choosing to do something he doesn't want to because of Tails, as well as looking to Tails to complain to when Sonic is annoying him or when he doesn't understand something. And then there's Sonic and Shadow. In short, their relationship in this episode reminded me a lot of the dynamic I plotted out for that Sonadow post I wrote up where the two just beat the crap out of each other. In slightly longer terms, I find interesting how Mr. Flynn maintained Sonic and Shadow's dynamic during SA2 (with Sonic bothering Shadow and trying to fight him, while Shadow is just annoyed that Sonic won't leave him alone) while also showing the audience that they are rivals. And in longer terms...Sonic was clearly seeking a fight during this episode. And the facial expression, the mocking, his tone of voice, it doesn’t really matter whether or not he actually dislikes Shadow and believes they could never be friends. He's trying to annoy Shadow and goad him into a fight because he wants to fight Shadow so badly it makes him look stupid. And we can tell by how he expresses his confusion to Tails that Shadow is just not getting this. To him Sonic is just being annoying and confusing. Sonic is targeting him specifically, and Shadow shoots back with his own words. And so it's also pointed that Shadow reciprocates/actually decides to fight Sonic when Sonic specifically challenges him. He doesn't respond to Sonic trying to goad him on, but when Sonic challenges him specifically he's much more interested in opposing him.
Anyways guys I love Shadow and Tails having a soft on the side relationship while Sonic flirts by convincing Shadow to fight him somehow😂💖
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maccreadysbaby · 3 days
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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne
batfamily + oc insert
tw: anxiety attacks
wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!
want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!
yall this is the chapter i’ve been waiting for
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part thirty-eight
❝ AIR AND FIRE AND WATER (OH MY) ❞
THURSDAY — SEPTEMBER 3 — 1:00 PM
BENTLEY WAS SILENT ALL THE WAY HOME. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Other than the fact he was pretty much at a standstill regarding his father and the Secret Keeper and all that jazz, he was starting to feel strange. Like a part of him had been ripped out and thrown into the Gotham Harbor. Like one of his organs had been removed and replaced by one that didn’t fit quite right — like something wrong was inside of him now. 
It was like he could feel his blood pumping in his veins. The entire car ride, he could hear it in his ears. He could hear the gasoline swishing in Jason’s gas tank. He could feel the windshield washing liquid like it was a part of him when Jason cleaned the bugs off the window. He could feel Jason’s blood pumping through Jason’s veins.
What the hell was wrong with him?
The wrongness just kept getting wronger when they pulled up at the Manor, because it went from Jason and Jason’s car to feeling the water moving through the whole house. Like he had an ear against every pipe in the Manor, listening to the liquid swish and move. He knew where it was. Where it was going. He knew where each and every toilet and sink and shower and fridge was from exactly where he was sitting in Jason’s car. Where every saline bag and liquid medicine and electrolyte drink was sitting in the cave. The drip Asten was on, how much was left in it, and every single time it dripped. 
Why the hell did he know that?
Jason said something to him when he got out of the car, but he didn’t hear it. It sounded like there was a waterfall inside the Manor. When he went through the door, it just got worse — he could hear every bead, droplet, every liquid in the house screaming and sloshing and moving and churning and bubbling. He could feel it like it was all inside of him, like it was him, like he was made out of water. He could hear his blood moving. He could hear Jason’s blood. Asten’s blood. Nico’s blood. Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Damian and the animals and Duke and everything — could feel the blood, the water, everything. He could feel everything.
He walked up the stairs one step at a time, every rational thought — every thought at all — literally drowned out by the sound. The feelings. He felt like he was going to explode. Like he was going to die. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, he was shaking, and breathing wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. Why did he feel so wrong? So wrong? So wrong?
His mind kinda-sorta came back to him when he ran face-first into someone in the hall. Someone with a purple hoodie and black sweatpants.
When Dick Grayson looked down at him, Bentley started crying.
“Whoa, hey there, kiddo, what’s wrong?” Dick questioned, kneeling down to the child’s height, his crystalline blue gaze bouncing around Bentley’s face. His hair was wet and floppy like he’d just showered, and it reminded him of the first night he ever met Dick Grayson in the pouring rain.
Bentley could hardly think enough to make a coherent sentence. Air wasn’t coming in or out right, and he was crying and sad and so overwhelmed, why could he hear everything? “I-I don’t fee-feel right.” Was what he ended up saying, wiping frantically at his eyes. (Stuttering, more like.)
Dick breathed in, a sad expression coming across his features. “I think you’re having a panic attack, buddy. Just breathe with-“
“No! Not that,” Bentley argued, batting away Dick’s hands that had been coming for his arms. “Something inside of me. I-I feel like I’m going to die. I think I… I- think I’m about to die.”
A few words were shared between Dick and someone else, and in one fluid movement, Bentley was picked up and deposited on a bed. But hadn’t they just been in the hallway? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. The only thing he did know was that everything hurt and he couldn’t breathe and it was so loud.
“Bentley, buddy, tell me what doesn’t feel right,” Dick ordered. Bentley was sitting on the edge of a bed (whose bed? No clue.), halfway in reality, half in his own world of blurry confusing pain. Dick was in front of him, his hands were searching Bentley’s frame for anything abnormal. Jason was near the closed door.
Between the crying and the panicking and the not working lungs, he couldn’t breathe. “Everything. Everything feels wrong.”
Jason said something about Bentley’s dad, but he didn’t really hear him. Dick was touching his shoulders. 
“Bentley, keep talking to me,” He pleaded, rubbing Bentley’s arms lightly. He turned to Jason with a subtle: “Go get Bruce.”
Jason left the room.
Bentley couldn’t focus enough to do much of anything. With a groan of… desperation, maybe? He brought his hands up and covered his ears, trying to drown out all the noise. There was so much noise. Too much noise. 
After an indecipherable amount of time passed, someone else was touching Bentley. Bigger hands, stronger grip. He peeled his eyes open just long enough to see Bruce’s face in front of him, icy blue eyes scanning him mechanically, robotically. His mouth moved but Bentley couldn’t hear him over the crashing waves in his own head.
Gently, his hands were removed from his ears. “Hey there, chum, it’s Bruce. Do you think you can tell me what’s going on?” He was doing a pretty good job masking the concern in his voice, but Bentley heard it anyways.
“I-I can… I…” Bentley choked on a few words and sobs at the same time, his hands shaking like leaves where they sat in Bruce’s grip. “I can… hear… I-I can feel… everything.”
Bentley thought he heard something in the room bang or pop, but he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t exactly hear very good. Bruce suddenly got a strange look on his face, and Jason and Dick, who were behind him, looked stunned.
“B, his eyes-”
“Shh,” Bruce ordered, one of his hands coming up to rest on the side of Bentley’s head. “It’s okay, chum. You’re going to be okay. Just look at me.”
Bentley looked at him as best he could through the tears and panic. He tried not to pay attention to Dick, who walked over to the bathroom door looking really, really confused. 
“Breathe with me,” Bruce tried. He took a deep, calculated breath, and Bentley tried to follow suit. It only sort of worked. The roaring in his head wasn’t fading. If anything, it was starting to sound more… real?
“What the f-”
“Jason!”
Bentley’s attention broke away from Bruce just in time for him to glance at the closed bathroom door — was he in Dick’s room? — and see water. Water, just gushing out from under the door like the crack at the bottom was a pressure washer, straight into the bedroom and all over the floor.
“Bruce-“
“Bentley, just look at me,” 
Bentley did. He just looked at Bruce, tracing the fractals of blue in his eyes, focusing on every hair in his eyebrows, every shade of his skin. Bentley just looked at Bruce as the water started to climb the legs of the bed like a slithering snake, curling and wrapping around until it made it onto the mattress. Dick and Jason were standing off to the side, stunned into silence. Bentley just looked at Bruce.
Bentley continued to just look at Bruce as the water started floating — yes, floating, actually suspended in the air — around the room. Some of it crawled up the walls like vines, some spun and danced in the middle of the air like trees in the breeze. It was getting easier to breathe. The roaring was getting quieter.
“That’s it, you’re okay,” Bruce uttered, his hand moving gently in Bentley’s hair. “You’re okay.”
Bentley finally broke his gaze to glance upward. There was water on the ceiling, spinning and churning in intricate swirls and designs there, and water floating through the air in strands like string. It was moving on the walls, the floor, the furniture like snakes. 
Bruce rubbed a hand over his hair. “That’s it. There you go.”
Bentley breathed in deeply, hiccuping lightly, his brown eyes tracing the flying water. “Bruce…”
“It’s okay,”
He wasn’t… this wasn’t… he wasn’t doing that, was he? He couldn’t be. He wasn’t a metahuman. He hadn’t been in the machine long enough, Davis had said so. He was just Bentley. Just normal Bentley.
Normal Bentley focused on one specific snake of water on the ceiling. He imagined it moving left, and it went left. He imagined it moving right, and it went right. He imagined an intricate, beautiful chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, made entirely of water, and the liquid morphed and moved until it became that. Chains, dangling crystals, and metal galore, all shaped from crystal clear water.
“Oh my God,” Jason muttered. He and Dick were staring at the chandelier made of pure water, but Bruce wasn’t. Bruce was still looking at Bentley.
The water slowly moved from the chandelier back to its spot swirling on the ceiling. 
There was absolutely no way Bentley was doing that. Right? There couldn’t be. He couldn’t be.
As a last ditch effort to prove that he wasn’t controlling the water, he imagined it going back where it came from.
And the water, ever-so-slowly, started to crawl off the bed, down from the ceiling and the walls, across the floor again at a glacial pace. Dick swung the bathroom door open. Bentley watched in a mixture of awe and terror as he watched the vines of water slither back into the toilet and faucets.
When all the water was gone, nothing was wet, not even the mattress, and the room was eerily silent. And Bentley was oddly drained.
Fire, Air, and Water. How clever, Mr. Whittaker.
Bentley looked back up at Bruce, who had a reassuring smile on his face.
“Are you going to get rid of me now?”
Before he heard the reply, everything faded to black.
The first (and pretty much only) thing he got back was his hearing.
“-telling you, this is different. The whole structure of his DNA looks strange. It’s different from the last blood sample we have from him — It almost looks like a whole new strand,” That was Tim’s voice, he was pretty sure. 
“So you’re saying that whoever kidnapped him changed his human DNA into metahuman DNA?”
“It looks like they… tore apart his original genome and spliced other parts in… like they manufactured synthetic DNA with the genetic mutation of a metahuman and replaced pieces of his own with it. It looks like… whoa,”
“What is it, Timmy?”
“It’s changing. The synthetic DNA is actually… turning the rest of his DNA into metahuman genomes. Spreading… like a virus,”
“Will that hurt him?”
“Let’s just say… I understand why he thought he was dying,”
“You think that could be why Asten-“
Bentley, had he been any more lucid, would’ve flinched at the absolutely gut-wrenching scream that ripped through the air. He was laying on something soft — it just sort of felt like his bed. A bed, at least. And the scream sounded strangely close to him.
“Well, his genes are being ripped apart and replaced, so, if I had to guess, yeah. That’s probably why he’s screaming,”
“What about Bentley?” He was pretty sure that voice was Dick, now that it said his name.
“It seems to be the beginning of the change. I don’t think there’s much we can do to help,”
Suddenly, Bentley’s eyes began to burn even though they were closed. He moved a hand to rub them, but as soon as he moved his fingers, his entire arm erupted into a blazing, fiery pain that made him whine.
“Are they going to be okay?” Came a third voice — the voice of Nico. Bentley felt a hand land on his shoulder, but instead of being soothing, it left a ripple of burning agony that made him choke out a strange sound. The hand jumped away.
“Yeah, they will,” Replied Dick. “We just have to get them through this. How are you feeling?”
There was a silence where all Bentley heard was his own bated breathing. 
“Well, I… I was already a metahuman, so…”
“Oh… okay,”
Bentley tensed, gripping whoever’s covers he was under hard when a surge of absolute burning agony washed over him. It felt like when he was poisoned. Worse than when he was poisoned — like someone was searing his veins closed with a blowtorch. Another choking sound made it's way out of him, but he couldn’t produce words.
“You’re okay, kiddo. You’re going to be okay,”
Asten screamed again. Nico was suddenly crying.
Another wave of absolute searing agony came and went, and Bentley fought it good — he really did. He kept his whining to a minimum for a solid ten minutes.
But then the fire reached his head, and suddenly, two children’s screams were ripping through the halls of Wayne Manor.
And everyone inside just had to listen.
dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚
tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)
@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere
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a-cat-in-toffee · 2 days
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me: yeah im gonna go to sleep
also me: *proceeds to send my friend 650+ words of pepsisprite analysis*
thinking about john being a literal embodiment of the narrative and davesprite being an embodiment of the game. the game and the narrative are intrinsic to each other's existence, but without each other they would be useless. what's the point of the game if no ones watching, and whats the point of watching if no ones playing? john and davesprite’s relationship sort of mirrors that, davesprite wouldn't exist as a sprite if john had never died, but john WOULD have died if davesprite didnt save him. they're necessary to each other's creation and to each other's continued existence and relevance. 
they're the world's shittiest soulmates because their relationship is so riddled with the game and narrative but davesprite and john are tied together in a way which ends up with davesprite always ending up right next to john again. johndirk and pepsisprite are very related what with davesprite mirroring dirk in a bunch of ways, but the difference between the two ships is mainly when they would happen imo. (canon) johndirk can only work postcanon, mostly because they simply don't actually get to meet each other until then, whereas pepsisprite HAS to happen during the game, the 3 year trip to be precise. 
all they had were those 3 years together, really, before everything went to shit. obviously they had known each other before then, but that was john and dave. the "real" dave, before the specifications had to be made. it's kinda sad how because of the timeframe that pepsisprite would be able to work out in, they could never actually have a relationship. like they were both dealing with their own issues (most of which never were resolved, not fully) but it mightve fixed them tbh.
thats really why I'm a big fan of back to the beginning post game aus that include the splinters because their stories are never really completely resolved, most of them are sort of just brushed away or swept into something new (e.g. davepeta)
also going back to what I said earlier on how johndirk mirrors pepsisprite in a way, it does! but there's a lot of nuance to the situations? davesprite is more like bro than dave is, thus making him more like dirk, but he's still a dave yknow. pepsisprite is actually a closer parallel to jakehal, especially by the end of the boat trip with the vaguely antagonistic relationship the two of them have.
actually i think they should be kismesis sometimes as a treat. john has so much emotion and anger built up and having somewhere to vent out that frustration would probably be really good for him. at the same time, though, they're also moirails because john and dave are quite literally the closest humans can get to moirallegiance. john and davesprite transcend quadrants in the actual definition of it, embodying the quads all at once instead of vacillating.
davekat (a ship most people consider to embody all quads) sort of does something similar, however a lot of the time their characterization is of vacillation between redrom and blackrom vs where pepsisprite is happening simultaneously. 
davesprite *is* proud of john and he does really love his friends, however because of the trauma he went through growing up (which was later reinforced by all the shit that went down in the game) he can only express so "ironically" or backhandedly, and john is so repressed to hell and back that *he's* not even sure what emotions he's feeling half the time
I think the fact that the two of them can so effortlessly communicate despite all that, though, really shows you their relationship. john can see the genuine in davesprite's "ironic" statements, and davesprite can pick out john's feelings through all the happy freedom bullshit. they communicate so well despite everything because they're best friends and because they've known each other so long. davesprite is important to john just like john is important to davesprite, and they always end up right back next to each other.
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not-goldy · 2 days
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Hey Goldy! How are you? This is just super random, but someone shared a clip of Rosebowl Jikook, and can I just say how surreal it still feels that it actually happened? People were scrambling to explain that it was completely platonic, that it was an edit, that JK didn't suck JM's ear, that it was completely normal 🙄
I've heard about a certain clip where you could see a string of saliva, and yes, I saw it. Apparently, the big screen during the concert show you front and center when that happened and how you could literally see the string of saliva from JK's mouth to JM's ear. You could even see the sucking movement.
Imagine if Jikook have partners? Imagine seeing that and being okay w/ it?? And mind you, he did after towards the end of the concert, when they're sweaty and all.
People left and right, 24/7 camping on Jikook accounts writing long-ass essays and novels to say Jikook hate each other or whatever. You don't see us camping out on say tkk/yoonmin accounts to prove they're not real, don't you? I mean, sure, we correct misinformation when you're posting lies or manipulated clips for your non-existent ships (tkk/yoonmin/etc).
Even the companion system in the military still haunts these people until now. Suddenly, everyone is a fucking expert on Korean military?? If it was any other ship, I'm pretty sure we won't be hearing a thesis on why they're not together right now, how they're doing their things away from each other? Like, what happened to critical thinking and common sense? You'd think if Jimin and Jungkook didn't want to do their enlistment together, they wouldn't go through those damn hoops, including selecting the harshest division. They'd just do what everyone else did 😩
Do you think these uncultured and unloved people (haters/antis/toxic solos/tkkrs etc) would lose their mind even more once the Jikook travel show drops? Hope it drops this June 😭
If Jikook have partners they are the most non territorial non concerned non bothered group of people on the planet cos of if Jimin or Jungkook were mine I would have them quit their careers 😩
Like you can't be stressing me out with the constant dating rumors talking bout we just friends but you coming home every night with a hickey embarrassing me on the internet begging for a man's attention a man who looks like this by the way
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Like where do I even begin to compete his ass is fatter than mine😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩
You just friends but you out here having panick attacks when he puts you on voice mail
Boy didn't even eat the dinner I made him cos he's out there cooking for another man
He doesn't laugh at my jokes the way he does his and his jokes are not even funny 😤
In his spare time he's watching vlives of him with his fans and I swear I heard him call me Jimin one time when we were making love
I need a divorce. This is not working out
It's either me or him 😩
Mother fucker chose him 😩
I don't want to over sell the travel blog I'm very very curious about it but I know it won't disappoint.
And the way Jungkook had to come out here and tell us about the one moment makes it feel all the more sus to me
Feels like a preemptive strive so fans don't make a big deal out of them sharing a bed but baby boy WE WILL
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It's jikook they send antis with into a frenzy with the barest minimum 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
I won't expect anything less from those numbnuts
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if-loki-was-a-fox · 3 days
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The one thing about thinking about the clockers is that I don't think they work quite as well as a literal based in concrete canon and every thing that brings with it, so much as they're like. Two steps back looking at the big picture (themes and allegory or something ig. Or an AU almost. Or a story being told inside the story)
Because to an extent I don't think clockers works as well when you try to put them in with everything that happened before Limited Life, unless you see Clockers not as a literal family unit but rather a sort of... Not found family, but constructed family? Like a story they've made up for themselves as an odd round about way to cope with the Death Games.
And this would apply to and explain other relationships that pop up too, like jokes about marriage and divorce. Like Bdubs and Etho in Last Life. Because maybe it's just a bit easier to understand a divorce than it is to understand the world tearing you apart from your closest friend and demanding that you kill or be killed, and it would be so much easier if you were being separated because you were mad at each other, and it was your choice, and you could pretend you have some modicum of control over the situation
So then the clockers, the flower husbands, divorce duo, the ahasbands, would all just be constructed relationships to fill missing holes, to explain their actions and events around them, and to bring some sense of familiarity and stability to this chaos
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i don't think i posted doodles of Sundown Summer's loyal steed! he's a starry appaloosa. a... starpaloosa. constelloopa. appastella. he has a body count written in blood
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cursemewithyourkiss · 8 months
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Hoping so much they'll put some of the Armand and Louis dialogue from the book in season two because some of these lines go soooo hard. I mean, 'Yes, that is the crowning evil, that we can even go so far as to love each other, you and I. And who else would show us a particle of love, a particle of compassion or mercy? Who else, knowing us as we know each other, could do anything but destroy us? Yet we can love each other.' and 'I want you. I want you more than anything in the world.' and 'I've had to wait and watch for you. And now I'll fight for you. Do you see how ruthless I am in love?' and 'But you're dead inside to me, you're cold and beyond my reach! It is as if I'm not here, beside you. And, not being here with you, I have the dreadful feeling that I don't exist at all.' Like??????
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