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#know this) theres nothing that tells you who it is at the first glance.
trans-p03g · 2 years
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Not the final design so it won't be included in the future post but I still felt like showing this
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Little bastard man in the GaP AU
#spooky arts#i have so many issues with this design#first off. he looks nothing like p03. aside from the freckles or the specific way i draw his eyes/brows (but youd have to follow my art to#know this) theres nothing that tells you who it is at the first glance.#secondly. he looks too young. baby faced motherfucker. i mean these fickers dont age normally on the account of not being organic but#COME ON. HE LOOKS LIKE A TEENAGER.#the colours are. eh? i think my biggest mistake was giving it a blueish tint meaning i couldnt make its eyes blue or the design would be#too monotone. next attempt i'll use more greyish colours or some other timt.#i do like the eyeshadow and freckles and the two tone hair though. will include that in the revision#hate how the hair looks like normal hair though. ill have to figure out how to make it look more like itd belong on a being made of rock#design aside the implications of making them a Crystalian royalty keep hitting me. like somebody periodically throwing bricks at my face.#first off. motherfucker's a sibling to my bestie's oc. wild to think about.#secondly. i didnt even considered this when making this decision but motherfucker is distantly related to a literal god#his family pledged loyalty to the equivalent of a fucking Cthulhu. and the only reason he wasnt immediately fucking murdered upon ending up#on earth was because he could be useful in finding where his family is. fucking wild.#accidentally making this au into a political drama which seems oddly fitting considering the source material#'gods and pawns' is. a very accurate title for this au huh
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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okok line cook jj who is absolutely obsessed with the new doe eyed pretty smile waitress. she’s always so nice and patient with the crew even if they’re behind, getting yelled at ect. they flirt and she always gets all blushy and shy, and he just loves it. one day she ends up in the kitchen teary eyed and covered in coffee from an angry customer and jj just looses his shit cause his girl is obviously upset and even possibly hurt and how dare they.
this anon had my tummy hurting and everything like omg i love it sm .
he’d fall for you as soon as he’d lay eyes on you.
jj definitely didn’t have a type and his track history was living proof— however, with all the girls he’d hooked up with in the past they tended to be a little on the sassier side, confident, bites back and can handle the loud mouth that belongs to none other than the man himself— but he’d never felt deeply for any of them, happy to part ways with them when the fun was all over. you however, you were something else entirely.
it was like watching a baby deer trying to learn how to walk when you were brought into the restaurant as the new waitress hire. clearly you’d had no idea just how busy the beachside restaurant got, but you’d tried to adapt quickly. for the first few weeks you were skittish, dropping the occasional plate, tripping over extended legs from tables and forgetting a couple of orders — but surely enough the customers took a liking to you anyway. of course they did, you were adorable, polite, pretty and young — you could have set the place on fire and your manager would probably have let you off with a slap on the wrist.
jj was dead set on getting to know you, hell— he’d even consider himself your guide, befriending you and helping you out whenever he could. he’d have your order ready first everytime, greeting you with a wink that flustered you as he’d carefully hand you the plate and watch you shuffle off to find the corresponding table. he’d gently manoeuvre you out the way with hands on your hips when he needs to get behind you in the busy kitchen on chaotic shifts, smirking to himself at the way you get all doe eyed and embarrassed whenever he did it. it never took much to fluster you, and your sweetness had apparently been just what JJ had craved.
he noticed you started to come to him for everything, and it made his heart swell with pride. toeing nervously into the kitchen during a quieter shift, not many of the staff around that evening. “excuse me, jj?” he remembers your polite voice calling from behind him as he chops some bell peppers. he’s wiping his hands on his apron as he glances over his shoulder at you before turning around fully, giving you his full attention.
“yeah?” he breathes, almost silenced by how pretty you are.
“sorry to disturb you but theres some guys arguing really loud in the restaurant and i think they’re gonna fight and the security guy isn’t in today… dont really know what to do…” you shrug, clammy hands subconsciously playing with your work uniform. he could tell whatever had happened out there has made you uncomfortable, not a fan of confrontation or big scary men yelling. he’s quick to nod, tossing the dish-cloth he was about to wipe the surface with over his shoulder and placing a hand on your arm, looking down at you reassuringly.
“hey, you’re good, i’ll handle it, yeah?” he nods, brushing past you briskly and out the kitchen doors into the restaurant. it was night time, so the restaurant overlooking the beach only had a few customers dotted around eating their meals, equally disturbed by the loud quarrel the two seemingly tipsy men were having. you follow him to the door, watching him saunter out toward them without a care in the world. you liked that about jj, he wasn’t scared of nothing.
“alright ladies, pack it up. go kiss n’make up somewhere else, bein’ waaay too loud and i don’t think these people paid for dinner and a show.” he waves them off, the two men standing at their table having their argument.
“stay outta this kid, i ain’t going nowhere ‘til he gives me what he owes me!” one of them barks back, slamming his fist down on the table making you jump as the cutlery clatters. JJ doesn’t flinch in the slightest, stepping up closer.
“yeah, i wasn’t asking. you’re disturbing my waitress and quite frankly you’re pissing me off, so again, i’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” you pushed down the way ‘my waitress’ made you feel, knowing he was likely just throwing it out there without meaning.
“you think i give a fuck ‘bout how ‘ya waitress feels? we’re doing business here. why don’t you go back to the kitchen, huh?” the other man waves him off, and you see his eyes flutter in irritation a little at the mention of you. he locks his eyes on the man, oddly calm and steps closer, staring him down.
“i’m not askin’ again. leave.” JJ warns.
“or what, blondie?”
“or I beat the shit out of you and your little friend.”
you were happy your manager wasn’t in that evening, because JJ would have gotten in lots of trouble. like that one day, a few weeks later during an afternoon shift, patrons from the nearby golf course having swarmed in for their lunch. JJ had been chatting away with another cook in the kitchen at his post, laughing and swatting eachother with the dish rags when the doors swung open, making him double take when he’d clocked on that it was you. your eyes didn’t find his with a bright smile and fluttery eyelashes like they always did, in fact you didn’t look at him at all. upon further inspection, your uniform was drenched with brown liquid, assumably coffee even dripping from the ends of your hair. your bottom lip wobbled as you headed toward the cloakroom through the back.
JJ’s smile fell off his face and he chased after you, skidding to a stop infront of you as he places both hands on your shoulders.
“hey, hey what happened out there?” he speaks gently, gentler than you hear him speak with the other cooks anyway.
“some guys coffee was cold, so— so he dumped it on me. i’ll be fine, just— just need to change my clothes and go and clean up the mess out there and—” youre wiping your tears off your cheeks, mortified, and when you open your eyes again JJ’s no longer right there, the only sign of his existence being the sight of the kitchen door swinging. you curiously follow, standing in the doorway like you did last time. his eyes had scanned the room, quickly honing in on the older, sweaty Kook in an ugly polo loudly complaining about the ‘help’ with a puddle of coffee beside his table.
he didn’t think, striding over, lips pressed in a firm line. he grabs the man by his collar and yanks him with such a force out of his seat that his chair tips back and falls, skidding along the polished wooden floor. gasps ring around the restaurant, an imaginary spotlight shining on the blonde as he grips the man with white knuckles, looking down his nose at the flailing Kook struggling to get his footing.
“you think it’s okay to humiliate my waitress, huh? you think that shits all sweet? someone oughta teach you—” he’s hissing between grit teeth with a trembling voice when the security guard runs over to tear him off.
“maybank.” the officer warns with a knowing tone and JJ lets the man go, not without shoving him back by the chest first, a spiteful, quick adrenaline fuelled laugh leaving him as he did so.
“yeah, nah, we’re all good. get this asshat out of here though.” he backs off, letting the guard escort the shaken man away to the exit, probably profusely apologising on JJ’s behalf. he pants, watching him leave before looking around at the entire restaurants eyes on him, staring in shock. he scratches his cheek before holding up his hand. “hope y’all are enjoying the food.” he calls out, making eye contact with your manager who stands leaning against the bar with her arms crossed, shaking her head at him. he swears under his breath, before storming back toward the kitchen, not even glancing at you as he storms past you, knowing he’s in trouble.
he heads towards the staff cloakroom, yanking his apron off and beginning to punch the code into his locker, clearly deciding the best way to deal with this was to take off. you follow him, standing in the doorway.
“jj, you shouldn’t have done that.” you scold him softly, watching him screw up his apron and stuff it into his locker, rooting around for his stuff.
“yeah, well i did, so…” he doesn’t turn to acknowledge you, still out of breath with a noncommittal tone.
“you’re… you’re gonna get in trouble. i don’t want you to get fired.”
he suddenly turns to you when you approach at his side. “you think i want that either?” he snaps before softening, seeing the way your eyes widened in hurt confusion. “i’m sorry. i… i just don’t like how these assholes get to roam around and do what they want. they can direct all that shit towards me, i don’t care, i can take it…” he takes off his backwards hat, raking his hands through his hair. “but… but not you! they don’t get to talk to you like that. someone’s gotta show them, you know?” he rants and you soften, stepping closer.
“thank you.” is all you say, pressing your hands to his shoulders and standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. you offer him a small smile, before turning around and heading back toward the door. you turn before you leave, his body still twisted towards you as he watches you in awe, suddenly a lot calmer. “no one’s made me feel safe like you do, jj.” you state before heading away.
he sighs, turning back toward his locker and leaning his forehead against the cool metal, screwing his eyes shut for a moment just breathing. when he turns back around, you’re gone, replaced by the disapproving glare of your manager.
“you wanna talk about what just happened?” she tilts her head.
“well, no— but i feel like i don’t really have a choice.” he forces a fake smile. it was gonna be a long day for jj.
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rin-and-jade · 3 months
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Are You? What about You? Them? : A Post about Differentiating Types of Parts.
We all know that spiderman meme where they pointed to each other because they share similar qualities that confuses their selves;
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Like this. Right?
They all sounded so similar that we neither knew which is which at first glance..
And so, at the end of this post you will be confident in pointing out who is who, just like a spiderman who can tell apart from its own multiverse friends, that is. So let's get pointing to the smaller details!
How it works..
We know what it's like to be conscious, yeah? What if i were to tell you that yes, there are varying degrees of consciousness, and that we all can fluctuate on those levels too?
The levels of consciousness can vary from only being aware of its physical surroundings and react instinctually (lesser level), to being able to self-introspect and understand what they like and dislike (higher level). This is all dependent on many different factors and i want to clarify that it takes more than just 'awareness' to tell a fragment apart from an alter for example. But, still important to know what level its at.
This explains why shards, and fragments are less flexible when facing an issue, as they're more limited or not as equipped as an alter in terms of reasoning or level of logic/knowledge. So why is that? It can be from the intensity of dissociation, and other things like how much implicit and explicit memories it retains, this includes experiences.
How to tell them apart..
Sure, theres a spectrum to this too, as every type of part can be a bit different though still can categorized loosely, not meaning it has to fit perfectly to the box :
1. No sense of identity and, or tangible form/shape outside of performing a specific task, or hold a single memory/mood. (Shard)
2. Small sense of identity (a trait that is distinctive/distinguishable), possibly have a less blurry appearance than level 1 and still performs specific tasks, have little to no memories/range of emotions. (Shard)  
3. Mish mash of small qualities, but not enough to encapsulate an identity/personality, may have a sense of existing, and can emotionally react to environment/situation. Usually have a defined innerworld form, and may retain some memories but depends on origin, still fixed on role. (Fragment)
4. Has a developed dominant facet, which can be seen more lively and autonomous compared from level 1-3,, but still a bit rigid and have a narrow/limited view in general. Can distinguish and identify feelings, and have goals/hobbies/interests, self curiosity/exploration to function outside role. (Fragment, leaning to alter)  
5. Has a multifaceted personality in which it cannot defined by one word, fully knows its likes and dislikes, long term goals, morals, and a complex view on life. May have developed purpose outside role job, pursuing self-fulfillment. (Alter)
So in conclusion, shards are not wholly self aware and rely on current implicit memories, from my own system experience shards feels so blank, lifeless, somewhat robotic. Fragments have a partial sense of autonomy, it can rationalize and react to its own accord, reason, and learn/explore,, though had not fully know who they are. Alters are like any other usual people, where it has accumulated knowledge and experience that had shaped then throughout existing, reinforcing a faceted sense of self and purpose.
Growth to perfection..
Are you also wondering if shards and fragments can grow to an alter? The answer is, yes! Though some can be stuck in a certain stage, which is nothing to be ashamed about, and doesn't need changing.
Though, this takes a really long time and process, i note my own fragments will reach to a stage where it barely matches the loose category of an alter in 6 months, and to be a fully developed alter, it might need a whole year (okay this is my own calculations, other people will have it slower or faster).
To grow a shard towards a fragment category, my theory is that you have to interact with, and let them immerse/exprience the real world by supervision (outside of its role task) to develop more environmental, and self awareness. They will be very limited in terms of knowledge and names so this is a good time to start introducing these, and they may not even realize they exists themselves before sometimes,, try nudging them activities to experiment, and foods to taste, examine emotion wheel.. theres a lot to start from.
To grow a fragment to an alter, start introducing other views and complex topics, the goal here is to create a more developed understanding of life. From my experience, all my fragments have a dominant facet, e.g. angry dog vibes; and slowly let them learn how to be soft, or act more polite,, it will slowly solidify as a new facet, now capable of being kind and not always behaving threatening/i-will-still-bite-you attitude to every situation, as it now can be more flexible which facet it should use depending on situation.
Last words..
So, you are now an educated spiderman who can not only point out, but understand the basics of why,, and how to grow a part to have a better sense of awareness!
Let me know in the comments, i would like to hear why the part you had specifically picked/chose is possibly a shard/fragment/alter from your own reasoning and interactive mini discussion with me,, lets finally put them into real practice yeah?
Also, Happy Valentines, *offers you a free heart chocolate*
- j, your educational fiancée
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adonis-koo · 1 year
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sweet nothing • 5
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(In which he is most definitely sick)
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word Count: 2k
Previous | Next
Note: I'm back AGAIN, simply because I can't get enough of these two!!! they're my life line these days tbh! i know I said there wasn't a lot of plot to this BUT....theres definitely some plot if you squint
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“Are you sick?” 
Jungkook looked horrendous, it was evident he hadn’t showered yet, as his hair was somewhat oily, wild and unbrushed, his voice was raspy and the moment he greeted you good morning, it was evident he was congested. 
“I don’t get sick.” Jungkook replied, but his voice alone gave away the discomfort he was feeling, he sat at the small table attempting to eat but after two bites and the pure agony of attempting to swallow, he gave up. 
Your lips parted before closing once more, a sigh escaping you, “If only that were the case,” this had been your concern since he had come home late a few days ago, soaked to the bone and freezing cold. 
Yesterday when he had taken you out you noticed he had been sniffling, but aside from that he sounded totally find, today he looks like he had been hit with a car.
Jungkook rolled his eyes, “I have three board meetings today, a stack of paper work in my office that needs to be signed and a deal tonight at the Red Light, I can’t afford to be sick.” 
“Jungkook,” You chastised softly, “Do you even hear yourself? I don’t think anybody is gonna want to be around you when you sound like that. What are your symptoms?” 
“I’m not-”
“Yes you are!” You spoke over him, your expression shifting into anger at his stubbornness, “whether you like it or not! You’re sick. Now tell me so I can figure out whether I need Jimin to call the doctor or not.” 
Jungkook groaned as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in thought before he reluctantly spoke, “My throat feels like it’s on fire. Even speaking feels like I’m swallowing a dagger.”
“And I have a massive headache,” He ushered softly, eyes closing as he rubbed his head.
Your expression softened once more, “Why don’t you go lay down? I’ll call for Jimin to get the doctor and make sure you’re alright,”
“I am alright.” Jungkook replied, puffed up at your words, one glare however shut him up.
He tiredly blinked as he sunk into his seat, “I can’t just take the day off.” 
“Then do what you can from bed.” You said with a frown, “But you’ll make others sick and yourself worse if you go out today.” 
He said nothing got a long moment before he shook his head and got out of his chair, your eyes followed him across the room until he left, somewhat surprised at his lack of argument.
Yeonjun who had been digging through a folder off to the side briefly glanced up to the closed door and then to you, “That’s a first.”
“Pardon?” You asked.
He smiled, “Jungkook letting someone boss him around. It’s a rather nice change of pace.” 
You scratched your cheek, uncertain of how to take the his words, your lack of reply only made Yeonjun continue though, “Y’know he used to..,” He cut himself off, as if realizing it wasn’t his place to meddle, “Sorry, I won’t bring it up. I’m sure neither of you want to dig up the past.”
The past…You gave a sad smile, picking at your food, “It’s alright, there’s nothing to dig up, Jungkook was a nice acquaintance back before I was pregnant, if you could even call him that. Nothing more…Yoongi is his partner, right?”
Yeonjun frowned, looking away warily before he eventually nodded, “You’ve met?”
You shook your head, “Only once, a long time ago, informally might I add.” 
“Do you want me to ring for Jimin?” Yeonjun decided to change the subject, “That way you can finish eating?”
You nodded with a grateful smile, “Yes! That would be quite helpful.” 
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Jungkook looked downright annoyed as the doctor poked and prodded at him before he had finally come to a conclusion.
Turning to you as it was evident Jungkook was not in a good mood, “The good news is that it’s only a case of tonsillitis.” 
You sighed in relief before you asked, “Is there bad news?”
“It’s a bacterial infection, so we’ll need to put him on antibiotics. Lots of rest and warm, soft foods will help, he should be better in a few days at most once the antibiotics are in his system.” The doctor gave a warm smile.
“Few days?” Jungkook’s brows pinched together in annoyance.
“I’ll be sure to keep him rested.” You cut over him with a smile, “Thank you Doctor Choi.” 
“Of course Y/n, I will see you on Friday for your check up.” He gave a short bow before existing the room.
“I can’t be in bed for a few days!” Jungkook immediately piped up, though you didn’t miss the slight wince in expression at the obvious pain he was feeling.
“Doctors orders.” You gave him a sweet smile as you held your hands up.
He slumped back, glaring through his bangs at nothing in particular, “Can you at least get my laptop?” 
You let out a noise of amusement as you stood up, one hand on your stomach, the other on your dully aching back, “I didn’t realize having strep throat made your legs not work.” 
“You want me in bed or not?” 
“I’m going, I’m going.” You giggled as you waddled out of the room and into the open space of his office, digging through paperwork you made sure nothing was messed up, before finding his laptop charger and eventually finding the source as well. 
Opening the cracked door to his room however you smiled softly as the sight of him laid back down, knocked out once again, a soft snore even escaping him as you tutted, walking over you set his laptop on his nightstand before tenderly pulling his covers back over his shoulder. 
His expression looked so delicate when he was asleep, lips parted slightly and brows relaxed, tenderly you brushed your fingers through his hair before catching yourself. 
Your hand snapping back to your chest as if it had been burned, swallowing hard you shook your head, you had been thinking about the past a lot more these days. 
You couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook did the same. 
Frowning you shook your head before you exited his room, there was no point dwelling on the what-if’s after all. 
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Most of the day had gone by quietly, there was something different about the estate when Jungkook was home, even if he was sleeping away or working in his room, his energy still filled the air and brought a comforting feeling to whatever you did. 
Eventually the afternoon passed and an idea had overtaken you. 
“What are you doing?” Yeonjun paused at the door as he cocked his head to the side, brimming with curiosity. 
You turned towards Yeonjun with a grin, “You can’t tell Jungkook.”
He sighed, “I hate when you start a sentence with that.” 
You pouted, “I’m making him soup!” 
Yeonjun looked relieved, “Oh…okay, better than I anticipated, it does smell good here.” He glanced around the empty kitchen, “But the kitchen staff are already preparing supper.” 
You crossed your arms once more, “Well, that doesn’t change that I’m making him something to eat. There’s nothing like home cooking when you’re sick!”
Yeonjun held up his hands, “If it’s from you I’m sure he’ll love it….” He shuffled closer before peering over your shoulder, “Will there be extra?” 
“Are you asking for a bowl?” You grinned.
“Only if there’s extra.” 
“There’s plenty.” You replied with an excited smile, giving a little happy dance as you grabbed a set of bowls, proudly pouring your soup before handing one to Yeonjun who looked like a little kid snatching it from your hands. 
Setting the other bowl on a tray you tided it up with a nice hot ginger plum tea and a few napkins, “Tell me how it tastes! I’m gonna run this up to his room.” 
“Don’t you want some?” Yeonjun had already grabbed a spoon, slurping noodles. 
You grimaced, “Honestly the taste of chicken broth makes me wanna vomit, back when I had morning sickness the smell alone had me gagging.” 
“That’s a shame because this is honestly the best soup I’ve ever had- second actually,” Yeonjun smiled at his bowl, “Reminds me of my mom’s when I was sick as a kid.” 
You only smiled at his words before briefly glancing down at your stomach, large and round, you could only hope you’d make the best soup your baby would love one day. 
“Well nothing can beat mom’s soup, hopefully it’ll be second best for Jungkook too.” You laughed a little as you walked past Yeonjun, carefully holding the tray. 
You didn’t know much about Jungkook, truthfully, sure you had talked pre-pregnancy, but it always…you huffed, shaking your head.
This had been happening more frequently, memories of the past would surface and you’d have to shove them back down, the past was the past for a reason. You could only assume they kept coming up because well…
It was Jungkook. 
Knocking on his door you heard a scratchy ‘come in’ before opening the door. 
Jungkook was sat up in bed, looking tired as he typed away on his laptop, eyes dragging towards you before you noticed them brighten just a little. 
His eyes then dropped to the tray before he stiffened, “Why are you carrying that?” 
“I can-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook had already gotten out of bed, swaggering up to you before grabbing the tray. 
“Ask Yeonjun next time.” It was difficult to take his chided words serious when he was rasping this hard, a wince visible on his face as he continued, “If you drop that-” 
“How many times do I have to tell you,” You huffed, “I’m pregnant, not dying.” Your expression softened a little as a small smile tugged on your lips at the sight of his floppy bangs covering his eyes in a sulky manner, “Lay back down, I made you something to sip on. I always loved warm broth when I was younger.” 
Jungkook set the tray on his nightstand as he sat back down at the edge of the bed, staring down at the steaming bowl, his expression nonpulsed for a long moment. 
“You do like soup right?” You shuffled a little nervous at his quietness. 
“Who the fuck doesn’t like soup?” He quipped, “I just…” He glanced away, “You didn’t have to do that…” 
“Of course I did!” You replied immediately, “If I don’t then who will?” 
Jungkook parted his lips before closing them, sighing but not saying anything else as he propped his nightstand up, it extended upwards before turning towards him, he paused before taking a sip, “Well don’t just stand there.” 
You glanced around the room, not much had changed, a few chairs still against the wall, a particular spot open to the wall, opposite to a mirror on the other side of the room hanging. 
“Have you considered redecorating?” You asked as you rounded the bed, choosing to sit beside him on the empty side. 
Groaning you rested your back against the headboard as your hands dropped to your stomach. 
Jungkook shrugged beside you, “Not much reason too. I thought it looked fine.” 
He plopped the spoon in his mouth as his eyes shut. He was never a very expressive person, but there was something about that satisfied look on his face that made you smile.
“It’s alright, it's just…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling as though you weren’t as ready to have this conversation as you thought you were.
“Just what?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed. 
You forced a smile as you shook your head, “Nothing.” 
The same way you last remembered it.
You glanced at the that small open space of the wall between both the chairs, how cold it felt against your back when…
Jungkook could obviously sense the uncomfortable silence, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“The soup.” 
A somewhat hesitant smile tugged on your lips, “Of course. I’m…” Your smile became disheartened as you stood up, “I’m gonna start preparing for bed, you should get some more rest.” 
Jungkook frowned but said nothing, though it looked like he wanted to, he only nodded. 
You left his room feeling your feet drag as you closed your eyes, this feeling was something you were used to when it came to him.
This feeling of always dancing around one another, never talking about the tension in the room, except now it was even more evident then before. 
You’d have to talk about it eventually. 
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I forgot all about my tags last chapter so I apologize!
taglist: @btseverafter7 @scuzmunkie @zae007live @cynicalbitch666 @somehowukook @bartisedrew @princess-sunshyn @jungk-shook-iiee @chickpea-jimin @hoseokteardrop @guk97butterfly @givemethemaknaes16 @bxcndd
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heademptie · 2 months
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Ghoap x Comms!Reader continued...
Reader avoids Ghost as much as they can, not wanting to stir things up more than they already have, but they're only successful because Ghost allows it. And Ghost only allows it so he can better observe them. He's tried pulling strings, using his rank and reputation to try and find out more about reader. But it comes up short. He gets access to their file, but its all fluff inside, lots of it confidential or just blank. Their name isnt even on the file, just the callsign (to keep reader anonymous) Laswell gave out. He asked her too, but she didn't have the answers he wanted.
"Tell me about them." "Not much to tell, I'm afraid. Why? You think they're a threat?" "Don't know yet." "Should I be worried, Ghost?" He pauses, thinking it over. But Laswell knows well enough, that if there was a threat, Ghost wouldn't hesitate. So she sighs and hands over the lackluster file. "They work behind the scenes, no field record. They were brought here-" Her voice drowns out with information Ghost already knows, the extent of Laswells knowledge on the matter. On first glance the file looks fine, personal information left blank or blacked out, a brief service record. Nothing in the field, like Laswell said, but a few listings for assistence with signal decoding. But most of their work is as a mundane office drone, 'A temp,' Ghost thinks amused.
So he skulks around base and observes.
Johnny is confused. He's been able to read Ghost for some time now, their connection and dynamic so intertwined, so in tune with each other, thriving since Las Almas. He notices almost immediately, the sudden hostility and caution Ghost displays on base, it takes him a bit longer to find the target.
He tries to ask outright, of course he does because why wouldn't Ghost talk to him, but he gets shut down. A gruff response. "Don't know what you're talking about Johnny."
Soap pushes, of course, but he gets repeatedly shut out. He moaps a bit, like a kicked puppy, before he catches on to who has made Ghost like this. He's surprised when he cathes the critical look of Ghost when Reader walks by, and he doesnt miss the quick glance they flick over Ghost. Then that glance jumps to him and reader gives a small smile and nod, one that looks a little too nervous to be oblivious to Ghost's scrutiny.
So he finds them the next evening, Reader is leaving tomorrow, going back to wherever they were before, so they went out for a drink. He slides up next to them easily, and gives a bright, syrup sweet smile to ease into things. Reader is a bit tense to begin with but relaxs just a bit once conversation starts. Soap starts slow and vague, idle chat morphing into talking about readers time on base before eventually reaching his desired point of discussion.
Immediately, the mood shifts. Reader is subtle with it, smile becoming a little tighter at the corners, and eyes scanning over him with an increased intensity. They play dumb, not lying to him but repeating his words, asking thier own questions, faux confusion furrowing their brows.
'They're good at this,' Johnny thinks as reader gives another vague answer, easing him in the direction to make a false assmunption. He's not mad, a little annoyed, but mostly he thinks that they're clever. 'Maybe this is why Simon is suspicious,' reader is still on guard, but as Johnny relaxes into the back and forth, so do they. Its like a game now. 'A simple desk worker shouldn't be this good'.
The night comes to an end and Johnny insists on walking them back to base. He'll bring it up to Ghost again, mention how reader easily navigated the pseudo interrorgation, get him to talk. Its on the walk back that reader looks over to Soap, eyes kind yet critical and sighs. He looks over and reader offers a smile. Theres something in that smile he doesnt have the chance to decipher before they've caught him off guard.
"It's his business to tell you what's going on. I don't want to step on any more toes, especially since im out of here in a few hours."
Soap goes to ask more, opens his mouth, ready to launch into his questions, eager to finally get answers. But they put a hand on his shoulder and he falters.
"But for gods sake just tell him already."
He's confused, but the look they give speaks volumes. Oh. Oh. Johnny understands now. The hostility, the caution, the observation. Just as they saw through Johnny and cupped his weakness in their gentle hold, they had done the same to Simon.
Oh. This is...
Reader is gone the next day, as was expected, but Ghost is only slighty eased, and Soap finds himself a little on edge. It's not till weeks later, with readers voice nagging at him with that kind exasperation, that Soap (a little liquored up) is in Ghosts barrack.
They're shouting at each other, fear turning into misplaced anger before it goes quiet in the small room. They're both breathing heavy, Ghost, Simon in this moment, breaks it.
"I'll kill anyone who hurts you. And I'd be pleased to." He follows closely, closing the gap until uncovered hands grasp Johnny's face, as gentle as Simon can manage. "If you're mine, no one, no one, can touch you." Johnny is thrilled.
As the sun rises, the two are twisted together in the sheets of Ghosts too small bed, Johnny wears a tooth rotting smile. They think, seperately, offhandedly, that they really should thank that too clever reader.
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doublekanble · 2 months
Text
Orpheus and Eurydice
Alastor/reader (gnc)
romantic-platonic
word count: 3.3k
i want to go to bed. (deleted this without copying it by accident, its past midnight, if theres any grammar mistakes, no there is not) at some point wedding is mentioned, but this can be platonic, i am just a very touch-staverd thing.
“Al?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Do you know the stories about Eurydice and Orpheus?”
(some say that he journeyed on his own to find Apollo, the Olympian god, reigning over sunlight and all things beautiful and pleasant. others would say that after Orpheus have his fill of travelling with the Argonauts and finally ending their search for the golden fleece in joy, he’d returns home. it was both, as far as you concerned.
but in every version of the story, Orpheus, who was depicted as a gifted musician, personally tutored by beautiful and enchanted Apollo himself, deeply fell in love with Eurydice, an Auloniad nymph, and she would love him all the same.)
He looked down and away from his book, tilting his head to meet you with a glance, ears flickering while you’re stretching across his lap with that dammed electric box still in your hand. You continue.
“It’s a Greek mythology about a man losing his wife and him looking for her in the underworld. I couldn’t find the original, but most of them still have the same meaning for me.” You turn on your stomach and lift yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with a delighted grin. “It’s a really good story, I think! Do you want to hear one? I can read them out to you, just pick one.”
“’Pick’ one? Pray tell, how many is there for me to pick?”
“You tell me~”
You exudes nothing but warmth and content as you grin, Alastor held himself back from squeezing your face.
(one story described how, on their wedding day, to the happy couple on their happiest day, a present in the form of an omen was granted by fate.
all the candles and lamps of the temple gifted them with black and oily smoke, coiling in the lungs of guests and stick to their skin.)
“I see, now what a dilemma… Which one of these unknown stories should I pick?” Alastor hums coyly, his book left on the side table unmarked. Oh well, it’s close to your bed time anyway, when you’re off in your dream land, he can resume. “More importantly, how did you learn of all this, dear? Doesn’t seem quite like the sort of thing you’d naturally pick up on…”
“You’re calling me stupid, again.” Dropping your expression in an instant, your delightful demeanor only drives him to take you less seriously.
“Am I now?! Why, how utterly despicable of me! My most sincere apologies~.”
"You-"
You try to swat at him like a disgruntled old cat, only for Alastor to smile as he catches your wrist with no trouble. Immediately, you gave up and turn back to your thing as he pleasingly pecks your imprisoned hand, knowing you can’t do anything about it.
(some say that she was simply bitten by a sly snake. some said she was chased by a satyr into the forest first. in all of them, Orpheus find his wife, whom he haven't even the time to love fully, lying amongst the green. with the poison already spread through her veins and choke her heart, he held her cold body in his arms as he wept.)
“Anyway-” Alastor pats your head, ears perk up while refusing to let go of you, not that you bothered to take your hand back, already satisfied with lazily draping yourself across his sofa and in his lap. He silently felt your pulse as you snidely remarked, “I learn about it online, idiot. Something an old coot like you wouldn’t know how to navigah-owowow I’m sohry yor noh ouh!-“
This, he somewhat find annoying. You’ve been actively learning more words to try and keep up with his “flowery compliments” and “verbose vocabulary” (he would’ve taken sweet and articulated, but c'est lavie). It would’ve been sweet, if not for the fact you only and exclusively learn insults. Your pleas would’ve fallen onto deaf ears, but there’s still a story you need to tell, so he let go of your cheek and lean back.
“I will have to say, if this story is as popular as you boasted, there would surely be a book somewhere about it.” You open your mouth, then just as quickly, you close it and stare up at Alastor who plucked your device off your hand and all but threw it onto the side table. You looked like you’re considering the consequences of trying to fight him head-on while he gives you a cheeky grin filled with sharp yellow teeth. “You were saying~?”
(some described the nearby nymphs and deities grieved alongside Orpheus. moved by the love that he lost, they tell him to look for a way to the underworld, to meet the God of Death and all things misery and to beg for his wife’s life. some said he find his own way down with a lyre in hand and play a song by the river of forgetfulness, with water almost as oily and black as the smoke from his happiest day, he would find himself singing all the way to the palace of Hades.)
Glaring at empty air and refusing to meet his eyes, your expression wavered as you seethe through you teeth, determined not to be distracted and tormented by him. He chuckles as you clears your throat. It’s good that you’re getting better at picking battles when it comes to him, Alastor can’t risked you realizing the actual hold you have over him, yet.
He watches as you stumbled through your words at first, chasing thoughts too fast for you to catch as they come. Your stories overlapping with one another, but eventually, you’d find your pace, and the images you’ve been trying to paint with clumsy colors and bristle brushes come to life as he plays with your hair. Your free hand motioned along all while.
Orpheus comes back home from an expedition, Orpheus married Eurydice, in haste and in love. One day later, depending on the story, he would either give his beloved Eurydice a funeral first before he finds the river, or he would leave straight for the underworld.
One way or another, Orpheus would find himself in front of Hades and his wife Persephone with a near endless line of phantoms and one giant three-head dog following him. In front of Hades, he plays a melody with all of his misery and grief. His fingers nimble and skilled despite the long travel, his voice lamenting and steady, he all but begged senses into the Gods and for him to be able to live his life together with Eurydice, for just one life. The Gods, then, moved by Orpheus love, allowed him to take Eurydice back, but under one condition.
“Eurydice will not go in front, not even for a single second. And Orpheus will pass through the gates without looking back, not even one glance. Until they returns to the land of the living, together.”
You said it with such longing in your eyes, the pain vivid in his mind. Nevertheless, you continued.
“Some people said the Gods are nefarious and thought of Orpheus as a foolish mortal, coming to their door and demanding his wife back without the bravery to follow her into the dark, they gave him a shadow and tricked him into looking back and let him rotted in his despair.” You look into his eyes and he can see himself in yours, “I don’t like those one that much, but it doesn’t change the meaning of the story.” You looked away before he can decipher his own expression, he wondered what he looked like to you at times.
“Then what about the others?”
“Arguably, they’re much more heartbreaking.”
Orpheus would walk on, away from the hallway filled with the coldness of the dark and the warm of the fire. On and away into the path leading back to the earth, all on his own at first. Then somewhere along the way, his lone footstep was joined by another. Soft pitter-patter right behind him.
Sometimes, it would falter, stopping for a bit, as if it have something to say. Sometimes, it’s chased his heels, a breeze by the nape of his neck, as if wanting to touch. But she never talks, and he would never touch her.
“There’s also version where he hears her calling for him too, but Orpheus stayed strong.”
You pulled a piece of paper on the coffee table, but unable to do anything else, you tear it into small pieces with the end of your nails as he laughs and nuzzles your still-imprisoned hand.
Loving Orpheus walked through the dark tunnel and sat on the boat as Charon paddled them back to the opening, holding strong. Until they’re at the gate, Orpheus at the front, Eurydice walking behind. He would be right there before the end of his journey, and then,
“-one way or another, he looked back.”
You stop to contemplate, then with a heavy heart, you sigh. “Some said he doubted himself at the last minute, some said he never trusted it in the first place. I don’t mind any of them, but there’s also one where Eurydice stumbled and he couldn’t help himself from turning around and catch her in his arm. That and the one where he forgot she also needs to walk out the gate, not just him.”
He huffs. “What a fool he is. I sure hope you’re not telling me all this just to call me a twit, darling.”
At that, you sprang up, “Hey! You say that because you’re cynical! The point isn’t that Orpheus is an idiot!”  Alastor briefly mourned your warmth as you wildly gestured and sputtered. “Orpheus looked back and in every one of them, he saw her for a single split of a second before she disappeared!” you all but bemoaned, as if crying to Zeus himself for justice. “He'd try to go back to the underworld, but no mortal is allowed in even once, let alone trying to come back again!”
Deflating next to him, you flopped down and loses all your fight and bites, ending it with a solemn, “In all the stories, he got torn to pieces by women. That’s how his story end.”
You sink into the cushions and turned to Alastor as he clapped and cheer for you, “That was a fantastic recounting! You truly have a way of commanding attention from the audience! I should really get you on one of my broadcast some day!”
Alastor wasn’t fibbing at all, he really does love your story. Your passionate nature for things you hold dear, to the point where you can’t ever properly capture them in anyway -albeit juvenile at times- was, and always will be his most favorite trait of yours (especially since it’s often about him. Alastor is nothing but a prideful man, one who’s proud to admit he'd preened like a peacock at your attention); but he might as well call it all a bore to your face, with how your brows drawn together and your one visible eye squinted at him. He can tell your energy for the day is running low, alongside the fact you’re somewhat miffed by something he can’t wrapped his head around, so he pulls you close.
“Now, why so quiet, dear? Did Hades took your voice along with that fool's beloved muse? You know yours truly would never dare to make a mockery of you or your stories.”
You dissected his ever-lasting smile, as if looking for any hint of a lie. Which, admittedly, bruised his pride a bit. But his jest did go on for a bit too long in the beginning, so he relented. When you’re satisfied with your conclusion, you turned away. Thinking deeply to yourself for mere seconds before you ask, “What do you think about the story though?”
“Is this one of those quizzes where there’s a wrong answer?” he grinned as you lean a bit closer, silently asking for permission before setting yourself into his side.
“If there’s one then you would’ve failed Al.”
“Ah, what a pity it would be~.” He set his arm around you and close his eyes. “What do I think of it…Why-”
With a snap of his fingers, he cheerfully exclaimed, “It’s quite the tale. Quite the tale if I have to be frank! Such a wonderful and tragic story with such wondrous derivations too!" He waves his arms in the air, "I can see why you would be fascinated with this! The romantic you are. Orpheus love for his dear Eurydice is truly admirable, truly. Though, I’d recommend him to be more careful next time. There were black smokes running from the candles, for crying out loud!”
Seemingly satisfied, although with the slightest hint of disappointment, you nodded along. “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time, but it was really silly. If black smoke starts to come out of my candles at my wedding? The wedding would just turn into baptism for the day. But I also get them though.” You nudges your head under his chin. “I mean, if you die of a snake bite right after our wedding, I’d also go to the underworld for you.”
Never mind the irony in the fact you two are in Hell, or the fact that his rotting heart beats just a bit faster at the idea of your casual tone while admitting you would go so far for him. He slyly chides, “Why, you want me to die by poison in a forest alone? How bewitchingly heartless of you~.”
“Hey! you wouldn’t be there alone…the snake should still hang around for long enough!”
Throwing his head back and shaking it left to right, his cackles fills the room as you hit him square in his shoulder while clamming your mouth shut.
“Ah, yes, yes. I won’t be alone at all, would I?” he sigh, “After all, even in the underworld, you would be right there, looking for me! Charming thing as you are, putting everyone in a trance with your words as you walk through the path leading to that grandiose fire palace!”
You opted to settled back into his shoulder afterwards, sounding more and more drowsy as the time catches up to you. “And then when I walked out of the place, you’ll be right behind me, right?” He grips you just a bit tighter, even when your voice are this quiet, he still wants to keep it to himself.
 “I will be right behind you~. And I will do everything I can just for you to turn back and look at me.”
Alastor would be slightly concerned for your silence, if not for the fact that when he cranked his head to peak at you, you looked like the saddest little rodent in the world, head lulling back and forth as you try to keep yourself awake and formulate any slight resemblance of a respond.
“…You know, dear? I wouldn’t mind you resting here for the night. If you don’t mind sleeping on this couch that is.”
“Hm?…Oh. Oh! Thanks! You can drop me here once you’re done with whatever you’re doing then…” He choose to not mention the fact that he’s also going to be on the same couch for the rest of the night, you don’t need to know he’ll be sitting here until morning comes.
“Al…” As he’s reaching for his book, assured that you were dozing off, you suddenly call out to him, voice weak and droning.
“Yes, dear?”
“Which version of Orpheus mistake do you like the most?”
His claws weaves through your hair as he tries to recall the page number, knowing he’ll returned to it in just a bit. “What a delightful question! Personally, I find the idea of the fool forgetting about the rules and turning around because he just couldn’t hold himself back oh-so amusing!” he find it amusing, because not in a million years would he ever made that mistake. “What about you, dear? What do you think?”
“I think I like all of them. Because in all of them, Orpheus failed because he love Eurydice so badly.”
With ears pricked up and hand held in the air, hovering above your head just before he shake the feeling off and resume. “Hm, I didn’t quite catch that-” Laughing, just a tad bit taken aback, he look at you again, “Care to explain your thoughts?”
You yawn and nestled yourself against him, he can hear the sound of his own heart in his throat. He can feel his left ear flickering against the top of his head.
“Orpheus wasn’t ever going to get Eurydice back, either by interference or by normal circumstances. Because he go to the underworld and made a deal due to his love for Eurydice.”
It's a tragedy in the making, a mistake set to happen over and over again. Because Orpheus is a fool, and he loved Eurydice with all of his heart.
“He find his way to the underworld for Eurydice after losing her, only to then lost her again despite the trouble he went through. If he really is a coward, then he would’ve just live on without her from the start.” You shivered, a wandering breeze ran from the inner swamp to your spot. The fire place burns just a bit hotter. “But he made Hades and Persephone listened to his mourning, walked all the way to the gate, and then tries to go back and do it all again.” With eyes knitted shut, you mumbled to yourself, “He must’ve been so relieved and happy to finally have her back after everything …”
“To the point he would forget, and Orpheus looked back.”
"Yeah... you got it..."
Your head back in his lap, like how this silly story time began, except this time Alastor feels beyond unnerved by the churning in his stomach. It’s not exactly unwelcome, but he finds himself utterly exasperated by the fact he can’t properly recall what he was supposed to be doing.
“Alastor?” He thought you would’ve fallen asleep by now, but your eyes are still ever so slightly open, staring at him while your muttering something barely comprehensible, “Do you think you would’ve looked back?”
Just as easily as you said it in your hazy state, he's at a lost for words. Unable to properly be acquainted with the taste of honest word just yet, Alastor bend down just enough to placed a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose and try to find his voice as you hummed.
“Let’s us hope that we won’t ever have to find out, will we?” It’s unbecoming of himself, but he’s placing his all on you not remembering his wavering expression. “How about you then?” he whispered, Alastor don’t pray, but he hope you’ll forget the pain in his voice. “Will you promise me you’ll look back for me, even if it means we will never meet again until you rotted away?”
“I will.”
As your breathing finally evens and falls into a rhythm underneath a red duvet, Alastor find himself smiling a near unfamiliar smile, claws tapping in rhythm as he take a moment to himself.
“How very cruel of you, mon Chéri.”
He started from the beginning, already forgotten most of the plot in a night. He would look back, he thought to himself, eyes scanning a story about an old man beloved new coat. If looking back means he loved you more than the air he breathes, then Alastor will always look back. But unlike the foolish Orpheus, he will be the only mortal that entered the underworld more than once, as many time as it will takes him, as long as it means he can find you again.
(some say that at the end of his life and the beginning of his death. Orpheus would find himself amongst the phantoms, lost and wandering. and as Persephone see his wandering shadow, she plucked him from his misery. when he open his eyes for the first time again since his death, Eurydice is there, as beautiful as the day he lost her.)
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millzieraa · 4 months
Note
Alex falling in love with baker!reader maybe? He stumbles upon their bakery randomly and he shows up everyday from that moment
୧ ‧₊˚ 𓐐⋅The bakery ୧ ‧₊˚ 𓐐⋅
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Summary: Alex stumbles across a bakery while walking around with his friends; though someone catches his attention…enough for him to keep coming back
Note: EEPYWRITERS HAS A REQUEST FOR ME WHATTT???!! I love their fics so it’s so weird for this to be on my page, TYSM!! :3 (I hope this lives up to your expectations your highness 🙏🏻)
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Alex, Roier, and Celbit were walking around town. Though after a few hours, they were starting to get hungry. As they looked around they spotted a bakery in the distance. "I'm kinda craving bread" celbit says pointing at the bakery. They all smiled and laughed as they walked to the bakery, glad they could finally eat.
The bell hanging on the door rings as they open the door to the bakery. Roier and Alex were goofing around as celbit walks to the counter, nudging the two men as they follow after him.
“Hi, what can i get for you!” You say as you scan over the 3 men standing in front of you. Two of them request their orders normally until it comes to the third. He’s staring with a look of awe at you, his eyes slightly wide.
After the two others order they look to their friend, who’s still staring at you, his lips parted. The other two look at Alex with their eyebrows raised before looking at each other in knowing. “Go on Alex, tell her what you want” Roier says with a smirk
“A-ah yeah, uh…can I get-” after he orders he’s smiling at you, picking at his nails nervously. “Of course! It’ll be out to you soon!” You say with a smile before taking the next persons order.
Celbit and roier grab Alex to bring him to stand at the ‘wait here’ sign. “Dude! What the hell was that?!” Roier says with a smile. “N-nothing!” Alex says with a pepper of blush on his face. "Get her number!" celbit says with a approving smile
Alex glances back over to you. Theres no way he could get your number. The bakery was busy and you were speaking with another costomer. Suddenly, their order was called for them to pick up. A slight frown appears on Alex's face, he was so drawn to you, wanting to stay but he was pulled away from his friends as they continue their day.
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A few days later Alex couldn't keep his mind off you. He needed to go out anyway... Why not stop by..? He smiles to himself as he picks up his keys, walking out the door.
The familure ring of the bell sounds in your ear as you clean the counter in front of you. Today wasn't really busy so you look up, wondering who walked in. Your eyes soften as they land on him. You'd been thinking about that handsome stranger since you'd first locked eyes.
Your posture straightened and your fingers rake through your hair softly, as Alex walks up to the counter. "Hello! What can I get for you today" you say softly as you nod at him "hey, can I get-" after he places his order he stays...
"U-um...whats your name.?" Alex says with a nervous smile. You giggle as you point to the nametag on your apron. "R-right!! Sorry, have a good day y/n" Alex says with a smile as he looks at you in awe of your beauty.
"Wait.! Whats your name.?" you say with a smile as you rub your arm in nervousness. "Alex. My names Alex." he says before grabbing his order and walking out of the bakery. You watch him leave with a blush on your face, smiling to yourself.
A few days later, he's back. And then again and again. Every few days he comes in, you both talking to each other until he has to sadly leave. Though today was different, he's finally going to ask for your number...
The bell on the door rings, your head snaps up at the sound. You hope it's Alex, and it was... You flash him a soft smile as you walk over to the ordering counter. "Hey Alex! Your usual?" you say with a giggle. "Yup!" he says but pauses, staring at you with a derpy grin. “Uhm…could I- could I have your number.?” Alex says softly as he grabs his phone out of his pocket
“Y-yeah…yeah sure!!” You say as you grab Alex’s phone from his outstretched hand. You type in your number before handing his phone back. His order was called as he looks at you with a slight frown. “I’ll hear from you soon..?” Alex says with a hopeful smile. “You’ll hear from me soon.” You say with a smile and a wave
He smiles back, the bell ringing again as he walks out the bakery, you rest your chin on your hand as you smile, watching your bakery boy leave. It wouldn’t be long before you both meet again… <3
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fourstarsoutofnine · 9 months
Note
Based on the little note you left, now I know you're plenty busy so feel free to delay or ignore this for as long as you need, there's no rush at all, and don't forget take care of yourself :)
Sooooo my request was a scenario of the chain and reader waking up to start the day, when one of the Links glances at a reader beginning to wake up and only then noticing the snake chilling on reader's body. The Links begin to panic, reader's still half asleep and confused until somebody finally tells reader about the snake, and reader immediately goes 'omg new bestie' and proceeds to leave the snake to rest on their shoulders for the remainder of the morning until the group had to get going again.
Bonus points if you include any funny reactions or any silly moments in general.
Reader and a snake!
A/N:fun fact I was googling for a descriptor for a snake besides “legless” and the term for a being without limbs is quite literally “Amelia”. I was like 👁️👁️ain’t no way. That’s literally a name, I know so many people named Amelia. Anyway! Thought that was funny and interesting enough to share! Also small psa I feel important enough to share as well:don’t go messing with snakes😭as someone who lives in a part of the US with TONS of dangerous snake species, they’re nothing to mess around w/. Alright, now enjoy.
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Ah, morning. Another day, another however many miles you all can walk without totally collapsing from exhaustion of all kinds. The chain slowly started waking up and getting things ready to go when something seemed…off… no one could pinpoint exactly what that thing was, either…. At least not until they looked at you. It didn’t seem like much at first, but their eyes drifted to the all too noticeable legless animal curled up on your lap as you slept. Legend was about to scream before Hyrule slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shh—we don’t want it to bite them…” he whispered and legend nodded. They took a vote(aka they played nose goes until someone realized their finger wasn’t on their nose) and the hero of the Wild slowly crept up and poked your shoulder before jerking back. When you didn’t wake, he did it again and you stirred, but didn’t wake. It would’ve been comical had this not been as dangerous of a situation as it was… or they presumed it to be, anrway. Finally after enough poking and prodding, you woke.
“???? What gives???”
“Y—y/n, theres….” Wars pointed to the snake still fueled in your lap. It seemed the boys(all besides Time and Twilight) were afraid of snakes. Especially Four, what with how mouselike the Picori looked—and snakes ate mice!
You looked down and lit up. “Oh cool! Hello little danger noodle..!” You picked it up carefully and it saw no threat to your actions, so it let you do as you please. The boys were in awe.
“It’s… not biting…” Four poked his head out from around Wars
“Of course it’s not—I’m not doing anything to provoke it or frighten it. It saw me safe enough to sleep on, so why would it bite me now?”
“…fair enough…” he said and watched nervously. The snake hung around on you until it was time to leave. You set it at the corner of the woods and patted its head. “Thanks for hanging out with me, little fella. Go find you some breakfast now.” You smiled and watched the creature slither away, before you and your group went on your way. Crazy morning, but honestly not the craziest you(or the chain) have seen. And nobody’s complaining, either. No harm, no foul.
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meowsgirldrawing · 1 year
Text
Small idea for my Fellow Sebastian Lovers! Hear me out!!
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So we all know that Sebastian from Stardew is the famous emo marriage option, a very popular one at that if media doesn't fail me.
So during the time him and the farmer are starting to get to know each other, like see each other more, hang out more, all that fun definitely platonic pinning stuff
Its all nice and sweet, like Sebastian is starting to get somewhat comfortable, not a whole lot, but definitely better than before.
So much so that hes seen sometimes lingering just a little longer outside or inside when he leaves his room, kinda hoping to catch at least a glimpse of the farmer.
Doing little actions like these while he doesn't even realize it!
But someone does 👀
Not only Abigail and Sam- Not only the other two of the ASS squad- The two who share knowing smirks and small nudge nudges all while Sebastian is too busy talking with the Farmer infront of them.
More like stuttering and flustering about-
Who am I talking about?
Maru? Ehhh, not exactly.
The frogs? Yes but also no-
Demetrious?...HAHAHHAAHA-
No.
Robin? Nohoho- Oh wait, your right!
HIS OWN MOTHER-
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Robin, the beloved only Carpenter of this amazing town!
She notices after witnessing Sebastian cross by the hall, taking a tad bit longer glance at the door before leaving. Multiple times!
Shes like "Hm. Is he waiting for someone? One of his little buddies?"
But she never says anything cause she thinks its probably nothing, y'know?
Until one day it occurs-
Sebastian stays long enough for the farmer to waltz in, at the right time, at the right place.
Instantly she notices a change-
Sebastian sticks near the doorway, waiting for the Farmer to finish their order for a new addition to the farm, and once their finished, he greets them.
Robin stays near the counter, counting through whatever blue prints for the commission, but keeps glancing up.
We just love mothers, dont we?
Her jaw nearly hangs when Sebastian gets offered a crystal but gets a bit flustered at it, taking the gift with such gentle hands as he thanks the Farmer.
He ducked his head a little, gave a small chuckle, and grateful nod- all while giving the Farmer all his attention without an inch of seeming like he wanted to be or hide somewhere else.
She knows. She immediately knows.
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But she doesnt say a word-
Not to Sebastian at least-
She does tell Demetrious a bit of it, the more she notices.
What can you say? The woman, who thought her son just wasn't interested in just about anyone or anything besides his room and computer stuff, finally sees her little man find someone he's clearly interested in.
Demetrious is all like "Thats great, honey :)"
....We know you were just thinking of your work, Demetrious, you dont gotta lie. 💀
Anyway! Robin feels satisfied, knowing her Sebby will probably-
Wrong, she knows that man will never confess on his own terms.
She starts planning like its the Egg Festival and she got put in charge of hiding all the eggs- aka, the clues for Sebby to figure out
First- Find out if the Farmer likes him back!
Shes not just gonna do it if she knows theres a chance the Farmer will reject Sebastian. If that were the case, she would let Sebby handle it the way he feels is just.
The next times the Farmer comes around, she asks subtle questions.
"How's the Farm doing? It doesnt feel too lonely, does it?"
"I seen you met my son, Sebastian! Hes treating you good, I hope!"
"Do you like my son-" (Robin no-)
Little stuff like that until eventually- she gets her answer. The one shes been hoping for!
The Farmer, despite their usually calm persona, turns a wee bit heated at the cheeks, scratching their neck and giggling/chuckling nervously while answering yes, Sebastian is a good guy!
HOOK LINE SINKER-
Boys, we got em.
Robin-
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Now Robin can do what mothers do best, interfere
(Mom, if you are ever reading this cause whatver reason, I love you and promise that isnt the truth-") what I said, y'know, like a liar.
Now that we think about, Robin probably cant do too much in the position shes in. She doesnt want to overwhelm her son, nor does she want to accidentally scare the Farmer away. Hmmm.
Maru, the beautiful genius comes in with, "What if you sent Sebastian to help the farmer ?"
So she does.
Anytime she can, Robin asks Sebastian if he can either go drop off something or help the Farmer bring something into the shop, or plain and simple like "Sebby, I need you to run this fish down to the Farmer."
"Why do (they) need a fish? Cant they just get some-"
"Go talk to your crush already-"
"MOM-"
He does so.
She doesnt just do that, whenever they're at the Saloon, she'll ask Sebastian and the Farmer to help her bring drinks to their table even if they arent sitting with them.
Maru even pitches in sometimes with asking Sebastian if he can ask the Farmer to bring her something for one her experiments/robots.
Anything and every chance is given directly to Sebastian to talk to the farmer when hes free.
And it pays off- On calls Sebastian takes for Robin from the Farmer, Robin can hear him laughing a bit with them after getting their order in.
Maru catches them jokingly nudging each other as they walk to the table with drinks.
And Sebastian seems to take a good bit longer to come home even though they have a shortcut to the Farmer just a little higher up the mountain.
Even Demetrious commented about one time seeing Sebastian snuffing out his smoke as the Farmer immediately came into view, and quickly striking up a conversation as they were walking through.
The girls were giddy with excitement and Demetrious was.....there.
Listen, I dont hate him but he isnt exactly my favorite either-
Then it came!
The day the Farmer walked into the shop, grasping a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a Tear Drop in the other.
Robin had to hide the large and practically beaming grin on her face with a handbook of what you guessed? Carpentry, infront of her.
Maru noticed the Farmer walking past with a handful wave and waved back so fast and so giddy like.
When the Farmer came from the basement, you could tell no one can wipe the smile cemented onto their face. The items were gone and they were basically skipping in their walk out.
And that ladies, gents, and nonbinary boos, is how Robin (noname), Pelican Town's only Carpenter earned her rightful spot upfront for her son and new in-laws wedding in the future.
And you can just imagine the look on Sebastian's face when he realized how his mother had a hand in getting him and his now S.O. together HAHA💜💜
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kenzuieee · 1 year
Text
ran haitani x spoiled gf
nothing..just some ran headcanons
ran haitani who doesn’t even try to hide the fact that hes staring at you while being behind the wheel of his bugatti la voiture noire.
ran haitani whose eyes glance from the street infront of his eyes to you. he practically undress you with them anytime theres a red light as his left hand grips the steering wheel whilst his right hand caresses your plush thighs. 
y/n who has to constantly remind ran to focus on the road as he keeps losing focus due to y/n quite literally seducing him without even knowing it.
y/n who constantly runs up ran’s bank card almost every day without a care in the world ? why should she care ? her boyfriend is ran haitani for fucks sake !!
y/n who puts her pretty feet painted white on ran’s dashboard as she mindlessly scrolls on instagram.
“rannn, do you think this would look good on me ?” you ask as you show the older haitani the most basic dress ever with a big smile plastered over your face.
“baby..that dress is so plain and simple for $2000.” he chuckles as he eyes the short black wool and silk dior dress on your cracked iphone 14 pro max. “and when did you crack your phone love ? i just bought it two months ago.”
you huff and pout as you lean back into the black seat of his luxury car. “so you’re saying it’d be ugly on me ?” you roll your eyes and continue, “and its the screen protector idiot.”
“i didnt say that love, anything looks good on you. i just dont think its worth that price.” ran mutters.
“whatever ran, im still going to buy it” you roll your eyes again while putting the dress in your cart, along with the DIOR ADDICT LIP GLOW OIL and some simple red bottom heels to match the dress. 
ran haitani who would definitely buy his girlfriend skims okay ?
you never have any luck with skims drops, as if anyone ever does. so you find yourself constantly complaining to ran about how what you want is never in stock or everything being sold out before you can even get to it. honestly, you weren’t TELLING ran to buy you skims, you were just complaining about the unfortunate situation thats been happening for months and months with each drop.  so when you and ran haitani left another bonten meeting at a bonten owned club, he told you about how he had a surprise awaiting you at your shared penthouse.
a series of “rannnn, what is it ? will you tell me please ?” flooded his ears during the car ride home that he simply smiled and answered with a simple “you’ll see.”
uppon arrival you see two large delivery boxes sitting upon the doorstep and you question what it could be. ran carries them inside with ease. ran removes his shoes after taking the boxes inside and tells you to sit infront of him and open the packages. you look at him with a puzzled face but nonetheless, you open the first box.
anticipation kills you as you remove the loads of packing peanuts and tissue to finally see a clear bag that says “SKIMS” on it and you almost pass out. 
“babeee” you look at him with puppydog eyes “did you really ? is all of this for me” you look at him as hes pouring some tequila into a clear glass with a cigarette between his lips. he looks at you, winks, and tells you to try everything on for him. of course, the first set you try on for him is the “fits everybody micro thong” and the “fits everybody micro triangle barlette.”
hi pookies, first post ig :3 this is the first “fanfic” i’ve written ig (?) lmk how i did and should i write a nsfw part 2 ? idk !! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
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spearxwind · 8 months
Note
Since you're on the topic I have genuine question about AI art designs from a non-artist.
In your opinion would using an AI tool to generate a reference for a commission (whether it be for character design or pose) be an appropriate use of said tools?
I thought about this as well and I gotta say, personally I don't think so.
Barring for the purpose of this ask the whole "AI art is stolen art" thing (which I stand by fiercely), AI generated images are really janky, especially reference sheets. There are details everywhere that make no fucking sense, anatomy is deformed, they have a lot of nonsensical parts to them so its just one big jumble of nothing.
And, it's pulling from designs created by existing artists and warping them to fit your prompt. It's work that another artist already made, used by an AI that's trained on a specific dataset. It also pulls from popular things that people enjoy: tried and true color combos, the most popular shapes that big artists use, theres a LOT of waifus, and a lot of the art genuinely comes in the same painterly style that's really hard to color pick from. some even come with color swatches that don't match the colors on the reference
In short, it's just a machine generating something that looks neat at first glance, and then is actual hot garbage when you just... look at it closely. Not to mention that an AI prompt can be iterated, and the AI pulls from everything it has, for every prompt, so what you end up getting is completely samey designs with small changes. Good for concept art assistance, but not if you want to create a Legit Character. The AI will give you something that it has already spit out a thousand times over and then some, with no regards to composition, design technique, color theory, because all it knows is what it has been fed and what the artists its ripping off of know (meaning if they have mistakes, the AI will as well. But in a far less human way)
Meanwhile, when you commission someone you are likely to go for someone whos art style will actually fit what you want to get, or someone whos art style you enjoy. Usually these artists will be people you've followed for a while and you at least know them enough to know what they can do. And they are also reactive, you can tell them to actually change and tweak details of what they're making for you. And not taking into account the bad actors out there (as there are always bad actors in every discipline) you will have something that has been made specifically FOR you, not just what a machine thinks you would perceive as eye candy.
As for poses... just draw it badly in ms paint. The AI will not give you the pose you want for the aforementioned reason: broken anatomy (and also because it will pull from its dataset of poses it can warp features onto. It's a lot more limited than you think.) If you want a pose prompt for a commission just draw it really badly in ms paint or on a napkin and write annotations for the artist (arm goes here, this guy is grabbing this thing, etc etc) Most of us if not all of us will GLADLY interpret your pose for you and draw whatever you want us to.
And like. Literally if you're going to get commissions anyway, why not commission a design first thing of all?? Or buy an adoptable from people who already make them by hand? It will genuinely be so much better than just hoping a machine does all the work for you. Please support artists
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mercysong-tardis · 7 months
Text
Meeting Alex Kingston in Moll Flanders cosplay at FanX 2023
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Just over a year ago, a little birdy (@now-theres-a-spoiler-for-you) informed me that to the best of her knowledge, Alex Kingston had never seen a Moll Flanders cosplayer. And as an avid appreciator of the Miniseries, I took it upon myself to become the first.
The Miniseries, "The Fortunes and Misfortunes of Moll Flanders" (1996) of which Alex Kingston starred in alongside Daniel Craig, was Alex's major breakout role which led to her role on ER and her subsequent claim to fame. So considering the prevolence, I had to make it special.
I put in a LOT of work researching, sourcing fabric, internet deep-diving, and reading before I ever got started on the dress. The actual hard work of sewing the dress took a few months to make once the initial homework was done. Undergarments? Structuring? Patterns? All of these took a lot of guesswork on my part.
The original was created by costume designer, Trisha Biggar (Which if you are in the costuming community you will know her as the designer of Padme Amidala's wardrobe and the designer for Outlander) for the 1996 miniseries. The dress was constructed of fabric Trisha Thrifted in the 1960s in Sweden, most of which I am fairly certain is Indian Fabric specifically used for Banarasi Sarees. The dress is inspired by a common silhouette from the 1670s London England, based on common evening gowns worn at the time. Considering the substantial trade happening between India and England at that time, it makes sense that a dress is fine as this would’ve been historically constructed with Banarasi silk.
The original evening gown:
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Sadly, I cannot afford to construct a dress entirely out of silk in this American economy, so sourced much of my fabric overseas and while I was in Egypt and Israel this summer. The rest of it was either Thrifted or appliquéd by hand by me. All of the notions and ribbons were Thrifted. I believe in doing everything possible to keep cosplay sustainable. There is a video on my TikTok which goes into detail on my construction process.
But once the dress was done, I was ecstatic, and It was time to debut it at a convention. The morning of Thursday FanX SLC, I got some pictures (in my River wig to preserve my curled hair) and this is how they turned out...
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Then it was time to show The Queenston herself. I had been a little bit stressed that she wouldn't recognise the dress or wouldn't be very interested, but I held out hope.
Spoiler Alert; I had NOTHING to worry about.
Before I got to Alex, I got an autograph from Karen Gillan, who's table was next to Alex's. While in line, I was staring in awe at Alex, as she was just under twenty feet away. In between people, Alex glanced up to the crowd, then did a double take, and leaned over her table to see me through the crowd. Her mouth dropped open, she pointed straight at me, and she got all excited, and mouthed “You! Moll Flanders! Wow!” Time slowed down and I froze until I gave her a big smile (and I think a thumbs up?) and I was so starstruck that I was convinced I was hallucinating until she added “you look amazing!” still smiling, before going back to the next person. 
When I got to her table, she greeted me as Moll,and she said she'd "Never ever, ever seen a Moll cosplayer!" and I got to tell her that I made the dress. Alex absolutely loved my Moll Flanders cosplay. She told me it was the first one she’d ever seen. She was so sweet. I wasn’t anxious at all. I was so excited to finally meet her but I didn’t cry. I was actually so relaxed, which came as a surprise, as I have a track record of being emotionally overwhelmed and crying in front of Celebrities.
She was so nice and was so impressed with the dress. We got a Photo together and she ended up grabbing the shackles (is it even Alex Kingston without a cheeky touch?)
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Then she signed my Making of Moll Flanders book and she flipped through it “oh this really takes me back. This was my favorite dress. The red velvet one. It was quite warm. I loved the big hat!”
For reference this is the dress she was talking about:
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Then she looked up back at my dress and asked me “aren’t they fun to wear? Don’t you feel sexy?”
I said yes.
I was a liar.
I was actually incredibly uncomfortable but I would NEVER SAY THAT TO THE QUEENSTON.
So I just smiled and said yes. (I did feel sexy but 17 hours tightlaced in 1670s stays is not fun to wear)
Then at the photo op, Alex played with my hair XD
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So that is the story of my most insane cosplay yet! I hope you enjoyed all you people out there on the internet.
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kumezyzo · 9 months
Note
can i get a little scenario where reader and sapnap were at an award show and they are secretly dating. that’s why during the show they met in the backstage to make out in secret BUT some staff saw them and took a pic to post it online and the next day they gotta explain ut on live
this has been in my inbox for too long. but thank you sm for requesting this!!! fem!reader.
anyway enjoy. or dont :) m.list
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You looked down at you phone nervously, prepareing to announce the winner of the next award. you swiped out out of your messages, going over your two sentences worth of lines.
suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around you. you jolted and turned around to see your boyfriend in his all black suit, grinning at you. you rolled your eyes and reached up to rest your hands on his shoulders.
"i thought you didnt see my text," you tell him as you move your hands up to his neck.
"i was just tryna find my way back here," he glanced down at your lips. "i had to come calm my girl down just a bit."
you smiled and leaned in to touch your lips to his. he grinned into the kiss, licking lightly at your bottom lip. when you slightly parted you lips, he brought your bottom lip into his mouth, lightly sucking on it before pulling away.
He had a blush on his face paired with a dopey smile, "good luck, baby. you'll do great."
"I didnt think i could fuck up two sentences even if i tried," you giggle as you step away. he shrugs and looks you up and down, obviously checking you out.
"yn?" you both looked towarss the sound of the voice, a young woman standing there nervously. "this is the envelope. youre on in a few minutes."
they hand you the black envelope, looking ebtween you and nick, "sorry but visitors should be going back to their seats now."
"right, my bad," he said as he smiled. "good luck!"
Not even two days later, an article surfaced on twitter with the caption, 'Sapnap and Yn Seen Together at Award Show!"
at first, you thought its was a stupid gossip site that blew out of proportion the meaning of you two sitting so close together. but when it began gaining more traction and people were starting to tweet and send it to you two, you decided it was worth reading.
the main media was a video of you two not even a second before you two started kissing backstage. you watched the video with your heart racing. it felt violating knowing someone was watching you when you thought you were alone.
"who the fuck even filmed the video," clay asked to no on in particular. the four of you were standing around the kitchen island. you had all strangely found eachother only a few hours after the article was posted.
"i think it was the staff that came in to give me the fucking envelope," you said, blankly staring at the marble pattern of the counter top.
"i dont think it matters now, people know now," george said as if trying to mediate the situation. "you have to say something."
"this is such bullshit," nick said in frustration as he looked at you from across the kitchen island.
"yea, but theres nothing you can do now," clay reiterated. "make a statement and dont post shit for a bit."
"to adress the rumours, yn and i are dating," nick said to the camera in defeat. you two sat next to eachother, accepting that you had to film this video. both of you appearing visibly annoyed. "we dont really care about anyones opinions on our relationship because its really none of your business."
you scoffed and shook your head, "this isnt the way we would have ever planned or expected this to go, but sadly, here we are," you took in a deep breath. "this is all we have to say for now. and respectfully... fuck off."
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this is short but ive been so dizzy and reading/writing is hard. so i hope you enjoyed -Nony
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maccreadysbaby · 6 months
Text
A Hundred Days to Become a Wayne
batfamily + oc insert
tw: none
wanna start from chapter one or read more? here’s the table of contents!
theres only one more chapter (the epilogue) after this what in the world
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part twenty-seven
❝ BIG PLASTIC SHOES AND BAGS WITH TUBES ❞
TUESDAY — 4:12AM — DAY 101 — CHRISTMAS EVE
BENTLEY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN HE WOKE UP. If he’d be in the great beyond, or in the hospital, or back at Wayne Manor with Dick at his bedside, or in his room at Whittaker Estate. He was pretty sure he dreamed about waking up and trying to explain himself to Bruce (who may or may not have been looming in the corner of his room in Whittaker Estate still dressed as Batman, but neon green). 
In his dream, waking up and immediately hopping on the explanation train seemed perfectly plausible. Actually, he probably needed to. Trying to explain himself before anyone could tell him they hated him seemed like a good enough option.
But in reality, when he woke up to bright lights assaulting his eyes and machines and equipment beeping and whirring around him, he just burst into tears.
He’d never been in a hospital before, but the sheer amount of light and noise and white that was around him was enough to make him realize they were terrifying. He was wearing something stiff and scratchy that made him itch a little, and when he lifted his head up enough to see his feet, he realized his left foot looked massive under the blanket compared to his right. And he was wearing a hospital gown. Which was freezing. Everything was freezing, actually, even with the hospital blanket over him, and he was shivering. Or maybe he was trembling, he couldn’t tell. He felt really floaty.
“Are you in pain?”
He flinched at the familiar voice, and for the first time since he woke, his watery eyes traveled around the room. There was a tube going from a bag filled with liquid into his arm, a few tables on each side of his bed, and three chairs against the wall to his left. Damian was in one of those chairs.
He was wearing a green hoodie and joggers now, not his Robin suit, and he looked tired. His greenish-blue eyes were dull like he’d nearly been asleep. His hair wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t as nice as it usually was, and Bentley very suddenly realized that he probably hated his guts.
Instead of responding, he sat up in the bed and pulled his knees up to his chest beneath the scratchy blanket and gown. He had a big… plastic boot thing on his left foot, he realized when he glanced under the blankets. It made his foot feel huge and heavy and he didn’t like it. Sitting with his knees up felt weird with it on. He went to wrap his arms around his legs but it pulled against the tube in his arm with a jolt of pain, and he was just so confused and scared and overwhelmed that he buried his head in his knees and sobbed pitifully. 
Of course, when the truth comes to light, he’s alone in the room with the one Wayne that was most likely to kill him.
He heard Damian shift. He lifted his head up just enough to see him nearing the edge of the bed, so he brought his shaky hands up and signed sloppily:
I’m so sorry.
Damian said nothing, but watched him calculatively. So Bentley continued to move his hands.
I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.
“Bentley-”
I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry-
“Bentley, stop.” Damian, who was now at the edge of the bed, latched onto his wrists to stop his hands from continuing the messy movements. “No one is upset with you.”
He froze.
What? No, they had to be upset with him. He’d lied to them. Plotted against them. He was a traitor. A traitor on top of all those things his dad had called him.
Bentley said nothing, and Damian let go of his wrists. He wiped the tears off of his face with the palm of his hand only for more to take their place. He signed again.
Don’t lie.
Damian scrunched his face up, half in confusion, half in offense. “I am not lying to you.”
Bentley didn’t say anything. His head was starting to hurt, but he wasn’t sure if it was from being pistol whipped, crying, or trying to comprehend everything that was going on. Somehow the Wayne’s weren’t mad at him for being a dirty traitor even though they should’ve been? Even though he completely deserved it?
He moved his hands again, this time fingerspelling. Bruce isn’t mad?
Damian shook his head from where he stood. “No.”
Dick?
“Of course not,”
Jason? Tim? Cass? Duke? Steph?
Damian shook his head. “No one.”
You?
The other boy exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. “I’m not upset with you. It would be foolish of me.”
Bentley said nothing, but sniffled, his shoulders still shuddering with small cries he couldn’t seem to stop. Why didn’t they hate him? Why were they still being nice to him? It didn’t make any sense.
Damian sighed lightly, and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Grayson is here, but he stepped out to have a word with the doctor. Father, Todd, and the rest are making sure your father and all of his contacts are properly taken care of, since they possess such sensitive information.”
Bentley hiccuped quietly, turning his head to the side on his knees to hide it from Damian. (He wasn’t sure why, it was obvious he was crying.)
“I’m really sorry,” He whispered into his knees. His throat was scratchy and sore, and he had no idea why, but whispering was about all he could do.
Damian just looked at him for a moment. And then he sighed again, and stood up with a grumble and a quiet: “Scoot over.”
Bentley blinked, and then obeyed, scooting farther to the right toward the stupid tube bag thing that was in his arm. He stayed completely silent and watched as Damian climbed up on the bed and positioned himself right next to him.
“You have no need to apologize,” He stated. “All of this was forced on you by a self-serving bigot who used fear to manipulate you into doing his will. It would be idiotic for anybody to hold that against you.”
Bentley said nothing, but wiped his eyes on the blanket that covered his knees.
“And when it came down to it, you were willing to take punishment instead of making the wrong decision,” He sucked in a breath. “And while running away was hardly the ideal choice, I am… impressed. Most children would crumble under the pressure.”
Bentley thought Damian sounded a little more Robin-ey right then than usual, but he didn’t mind. His brain was stuck on the words I am impressed, and didn’t hear much of what was said afterward. He noticed that his tears were slowly dying down.
With a deep breath and a quiet exhale, and the sudden realization that he was pretty exhausted (like, sleep-for-a-year-straight exhausted), Bentley leaned his head on Damian’s shoulder.
Which he probably wouldn’t have done if his mind wasn’t still floating from anesthesia and crying hadn’t just used ninety-percent of his available energy. But he was still halfway on drugs, and his energy was fading by the minute, and Damian was comfortable.
Much to Bentley’s surprise, he didn’t argue. Maybe it was because he felt bad that he was in the hospital, or pitied him because of everything that had happened, but he didn’t care. He was just glad he wasn’t alone.
A few voices approached the door, and after a minute, it swung open.
He saw a thin layer of weariness clouding Dick Grayson’s eyes for only a moment before an excited, childish shine replaced it. He was in normal clothes, too, now, a blue jacket and joggers, and his black hair was a disheveled fluff. “You’re awake!”
Bentley said nothing, but turned his head into Damian’s shoulder to hide the fact that his eyes decided it was time to cry again. (Seriously, he didn’t even really know why he was crying this time.) He felt Damian’s hand drift up and rest on the back of his head, a mannerism he undoubtedly inherited from Dick.
Bentley heard them murmur to one another, and the words anesthesia and angry came up, but he didn’t catch the whole thing due to his quiet, breathy sobs. (Crying this much was starting to get embarrassing.)
“Hey there, kiddo,” Dick’s voice drifted from one side of the bed to the other, and Bentley felt a hand land on his right calf. “Bruce will be on his way soon. And if you want anyone else, I can shoot them a text.”
Bentley didn’t respond apart from the quiet cries that were wracking his body, so Dick just lightly rubbed his leg.
“You know, Jason cries when he wakes up from anesthesia, too.”
He found the confidence to turn his head back forward, so he could see Dick. He was crouched by the bed with one arm on the mattress, his head propped on the other.
“Really?” He whispered with a sniff, nearly inaudibly. Dick nodded.
“Oh yeah, you’d think he was trying to fill the Nile River. And then he gets all mad and embarrassed about it,” He chuckled lightly, and the noise helped Bentley relax a little. Not to mention the mental image of the Red Hood crying from the same thing made him a little less embarrassed.
“And Tim just gets really mad. He wants Cass and Cass only when he wakes up,”
Bentley found himself wiping his eyes, and his crying was tapering off into sniffles and occasional hiccups. Damian was doing the Dick-stroke-the-hair thing and it was working.
“And don’t even get me started on Bruce — he’s the worst. He goes into, like, broody two-thousand-eight emo boy mode. Once, even Alfred gave up and left me to deal with him,”
Bentley cracked a smile, and Dick patted his leg, satisfied that he made him a little happier. “You sleepy, kiddo?”
He wasn’t sure sleepy covered it. Exhausted didn’t even seem to cover it, actually. He was so tired he wouldn’t doubt it if he just fell over right then. How was he so tired when he just woke up?
“You can rest. We’ll be right here the whole time,”
Part of Bentley didn’t want to go back to sleep, in fear they’d actually be gone when he woke up, but the exhaustion seemed to overrule it. Because with two Waynes by his side and the reassurance he wouldn’t be alone, Bentley fell asleep quicker than he knew he could. (On Damian, who still hadn’t protested, by the way.)
TUESDAY — 6:42AM — DAY 101 — CHRISTMAS EVE
When he woke up, bleary-eyed but less floaty than before, they were still there. 
Bentley was alone in the bed, but Dick had pulled a chair right up to the edge and was folded in half over the mattress, jacket off, dead asleep. His hand was still resting on Bentley’s leg. Damian was in one of the other chairs, curled up tightly with the jacket Dick had shed, also dead asleep. How long had they been awake on Bentley’s accord?
He didn’t have much time to think about that, though, because Damian’s head was resting on someone’s shoulder, and that someone was Bruce. And Bruce was a hundred percent awake.
“Hey, bud. How are you feeling?” He questioned lowly, in an attempt not to wake his sleeping sons. His eyes were dull, but he looked alert and not tired in the slightest.
Bentley took note of his own body — his head was definitely hurting more now, like the floaty stuff had been helping him not hurt, and his ankle throbbed every now and then. Not to mention the soreness (and probably bruise) on his chest from being kicked. And his throat was still raw. All in all, not great, but it was laughable compared to the searing agony he had been in at the warehouse.
So he lifted his hands and quickly signed: Hurts.
Bruce frowned. “I’m sorry. It should be time for the doctor to come back with more pain meds soon. She just needs to run a few more tests and we’ll be able to take you home.”
Take him home? Take him home as in to their home, the Manor? Or take him home as in drive him to Whittaker Estate and leave him on the doorstep? Or maybe to a stranger’s house after social services hears about him?
He stayed silent, picking at the edge of the hospital blanket.
“I never forgot, you know. About your mom,”
Bentley glanced over at him, and they made eye contact for a moment, as if Bruce was considering leaving it at that. Then he continued: “Dick was seventeen, and had just gotten in a car wreck of his own. I was scared and reckless. I… never imagined my mistake could cause anything like what you’ve endured. I’m so sorry.”
Bentley wasn’t sure what to say, but he was cold. So he sat up slowly and peeled the blanket off of him, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. It felt weird with the massive shoe-thing. The tube-bag that was hooked on his arm was on a stand, kind of like a coat rack but with wheels, so he grabbed it and pulled it with him. Around the bed and across the room until he stopped in front of Bruce.
He signed: I’m cold.
He hadn’t even finished moving his hands and Bruce had already opened his arms, and Bentley climbed into his lap without hesitation. Hopefully it helped him understand that he wasn’t upset at him for his mom, and that it wasn’t really his fault his father was terrible.
If they could forgive Bentley for everything he’d done, he could forgive him. Bruce closed his arms around him and he sank into the warmth.
Bentley lifted his hands again, fingerspelling a few words he didn’t know in between: You're really not mad at me?
“Of course not,” Bruce replied, adjusting the drip stand in front of them. “None of it was your fault. How could I be mad at you?”
A quiet calm washed over the room, and Bentley rested his head on him. He could see Damian’s head precariously positioned on Bruce’s shoulder in just the right way that it wouldn’t slip off.
They stayed quiet for a while, before the child lifted his hands once more in a messy mixture of signing and fingerspelling. What happened to my father?
Bruce exhaled a heavy breath. “He’s alive, and he’s going to jail,” There was a stiff pause. “I’m going to have to call my social worker so you can talk to her.”
Ah, crap. That’s exactly what Bentley didn’t want to hear. A pit formed in his stomach, and he sat up so he could see Bruce better, hands moving in a slightly faster, anxious manner.
 They’re going to take me away?
“No, no. I didn’t mean to startle you,” He stated, rubbing his back a little. “We need to have a meeting with her so you can tell her about your dad, so I can get emergency custody. It’s the same thing I did with Tim.”
Bentley relaxed a little, but he still didn’t know what half of that meant. What does that mean?
“Custody? It means I’ll be your legal guardian,” He explained softly.
Bentley blinked. You’ll be my dad?
Bruce chuckled. “If you want me to be. Or I can just be Bruce — that’s what Dick, Jason, and Tim call me.”
Bentley blinked for a moment, trying to take in exactly what he was being told. He’d mentioned giving him to the Waynes to his father as some kind of last ditch effort, but he never expected he would actually be able to achieve that. It kind of made him want to cry again. His father had said it was exactly what he wanted… and it was.
Bruce ruffled his hair gently. “But we don’t have to talk about it right now — we’ll handle all of that when you’re feeling better, okay? For now, you should get some more rest.”
That sounded like a good idea, because Bentley was getting tired again. He settled into Bruce’s lap and sighed deeply, and for the first time, when he thought about the rest of his life, he felt hope.
dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💛
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reluctanttrabbit · 5 months
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its secret santa time!! woo!! @hearts4ggy BOO CAROUSEL JUMPSCARE 💥💥💥💥
originally i planned to make a fic AND draw a scene from the fic. but my dreams slowly crumbled as i realized i would have so much homework this month AND i also really just wanted to get this fic out before christmas bc i know many people are with family at this time
so heres the fic instead!! maybe i can finish up the art part of the gift this week.. :3
the full fic is also below the cut incase u wanna read it this way ^_^
Carol of the Bells
3,347 words
3:56. 3:57. 3:58.
Every time Michael glanced at the clock, it stared right back. Almost like it's taunting me, he thought.
Out of all of the days in the year, why did William Afton have to work on Christmas Eve and leave Michael to look after his siblings?
To be fair, it was a lose-lose situation either way. He could either spend the day stuck with his stupid siblings, or ditto but with his stupid father.
So here he was, baking cookies with Elizabeth and Evan in the afternoon.
"I.. I think we used too much sugar," a small voice piped up. It was Evan, who had just grabbed the egg carton out of the fridge and peered into the bowl the siblings were using. Sure enough, sugar was littered all over the kitchen counter. Evan guessed that was Elizabeth's handiwork.
"Good! Maybe you'll get some cavities from it, and you'll talk even less, then," Elizabeth jeered at her brother.
"Liz, these cookies are for all of us. if anything, you're getting cavities too." Michael sighed as he pushed her aside to swipe the eggs out of Evan's hands. she let out a small yelp of annoyance, which Michael had ignored. He turned to his phone propped up on the counter with the recipe on his screen.
"Ok, eggs and vanilla extract." he said aloud to himself. Michael looked to the counter, but the vanilla extract was nowhere in sight. What? That couldn't be right.
"We got vanilla extract, right? who has it?" Michael instantly turned to Evan, who jumped a little and showed Michael his hands. Empty.
Next, he turned to Liz, getting more agitated at the second. Once he looked in her direction, he noticed three red cups set on the counter, as Elizabeth wore a suspicious smile and eyed the cups. Michael simply wasn't having it, and knocked all 3 cups off the counter as if he were a cat. He deadpanned towards Elizabeth as she watched the vanilla extract fall out of the middle cup and onto the floor.
"Hey! What's your problem today?!" she cried, as Michael went to pick up the extract.
"My problem," he growled, "is that I'm stuck with you two today, because our father can't even manage to take the day off of work for CHRISTMAS EVE."
"Well, maybe he's getting some last minute gifts.. or something!" she said, trying to excuse her father.
"Bullshit, theres nothing open today! It's a holiday, he shouldn't even be at work in the first place!"
"Don't swear at me!"
"I'll do whatever I want! Dad isn't here, I'm in charge."
"Y'know, i bet you the reason you don't wanna spend Christmas Eve with us is because you'd rathe-"
The house phone started ringing, and the two stopped fighting. Michael sent a cold glare to Elizabeth, as if he was telling her this wasn't over, and he walked over to pick up.
"Hey, is mike here?" a voice rang through the speaker. it was Charlie!
"Uh- yeah, what happened?"
"What do you mean what happened, its Christmas Eve! we're coming over for a bit, so we can keep you guys company.. since your dad isn't here, y'know." there was a slight laugh in her voice, but it settled once she mentioned that William wasn't home. Right, how could Michael ever forget.
"Oh, well.. sweet. See you guys in a bit, I guess. bye." Michael put the phone down. He hoped Charlie couldn't tell that there was still hints of anger in his voice, despite their call being so short. He let out a sigh, which somewhat turned into a growl, and turned around to look back at his siblings. Evan had started to pick the extract up and clean it with some paper towels. Good. At least he was managing to be helpful.
hearing the news that Charlie and Henry (and hopefully Sammy) were coming over eased Michael's thoughts. maybe Henry could be the one to deal with his siblings, and Michael could get a break from these brats. Evan offered the extract to Mike, and he picked it up, turning his phone back on and reading over the recipe once again. Liz had left to go sit on the couch and cool off from her and Mike's previous squabbling. Hey, I'm not complaining, Mike thought to himself.
"Cass, you wanna grab the mixer for me?" he asked. Evan nodded, and went to search the cupboards until he pulled the machine out, with the cord dangling and nearly tripping him.
Evan hauled the machine up onto the counter. He brushed his hands off on his pants, and stood idly waiting for Michael to do the next step. He fidgeted with his sweater sleeves, and peeked around the corner of the fridge to look at Elizabeth. she had a pillow in her hand as she hit it repeatedly against the floor.
Evan had a hunch that pillow was supposed to be michael.
He turned back to face Michael. the boy jumped as the mixer started and the ingredients splashed onto his face. He grumbled, but held the bowl steady and let the mixer do its job.
Evan took advantage of the loud whirring from the mixer, and snuck off into the living room to stay with Elizabeth. Her eyes narrowed as he walked into the room, and put the pillow down.
The mixer slowed down and Michael went to wash his hands. He looked around for evan, only to find that the boy wasn't there.
"Hey, I still need help here!" he shouted.
"…"
"Fine."
-------------
Michael cringed with each bite he took of the cookie. Something had definitely went wrong once he was left alone to bake. Was it too sweet? Or too bitter? Were the ingredients expired?
"Ok, these… these cookies taste like shit." Michael put the cookie (could it even be called that?) back down on his plate and took a sip of water. he heard Elizabeth and Evan laugh, as they had already rejected their cookies.
"When will Charlie and Henry get here?" Evan asked, blankly staring out into the window. There were slight flurries outside- the thought of a white Christmas made Michael subconsciously smile. It had reminded him of better days - days where all he would do in school was make crafts and bring them home to his mom and dad. He remember the way his mother's nose would crinkle as she smiled and put the poor excuse for an ornament up on their Christmas tree.
"…"
"I'm gonna go get my sketchbook. Just… do whatever." Mike nearly bolted up as he dodged the question and tossed the tv remote to Elizabeth, heading for the stairs. She turned on the tv and started to flip through channels. There was nothing that interested the two. News channels, baby channels, reruns of old movies, the shopping channel; and a few kids channels, but none of them were playing anything good. Elizabeth decided on one that was about these weird CGI Christmas dogs.. it wasn't like she would actually pay attention to it.
"All of these shows suck!" she huffed in frustration. "Why aren't they playing, like, My Little Pony or something?" she went to lay back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling.
Evan had wanted to answer, because its Christmas and the only thing that's on right now are Christmas movies. But he was too lost in his own thoughts to interject. He remembered the look in Michael's eyes as he went up to grab his sketchbook. The teen looked like he was on the verge of tears. Evan felt as if he had seen a cryptid.
"Liz, um.. do you ever think about why Mike gets angry at us?" he turned to his sister.
"..Well, I don't think about it on a daily basis, but I know the answer. You should too." she sighed, crossing her arms.
"I mean, obviously I know why, but… why does he get angry? We only fight with him because he fights with us. Why does he get to be the angry one? Why does he see us as brats and then get to act like that?"
Elizabeth stayed silent. They both did for a minute.
"Maybe he never moved on. I don't know." she sighed, now giving more thought to the conversation. "I don't remember much of her. Maybe the problem is that he remembers too much."
Maybe the problem is that he remembers too much. The words repeated in Evan's mind. what did that even mean? It got louder and louder, and-
"Charlie!" Elizabeth cried as she shot up to run towards the window. She was careful to not scratch herself on the Christmas tree right beside the window, and peered through the snow, which had begun to fall faster than a few minutes ago. The headlights of Henry's car disoriented Liz, but she tried her best to get a good look.
Evan stared at the ground for a few more seconds, before getting up and opening the door for them. Henry and Charlie stepped out of the car, gift bags in each of their hands. Elizabeth nearly pushed Evan out of the way as they came in the door.
"Merry Christmas, you two!" Henry said, imitating the voice of Santa Claus. He definitely has the beard for the role, Evan thought.
Elizabeth jumped into Charlie arms, giving her a hug.
"Hey Liz!" the teen said, ruffling her hair. "Guess who these are for?" she said as she held up the bags in her arms. Elizabeth gasped and reached for them, but Charlie swiped them away.
"Hey, not until tomorrow." she laughed. Her and Henry walked towards the tree to put their gifts down and take off their coats. Henry paused as Charlie set down her bags.
"You kids only got 5 presents?" Henry asked, concerned. "Now I don't want to shame your dad, but I know he has more than enough money for you guys. There's no way he's putting all that into the mall..." the man trailed off as he answered his own question.
"Well, good thing we delivered, huh?" Charlie said, trying to keep the mood up. "C'mon Liz, let's go find a Christmas movie to watch." the 2 girls walked to the couch as Charlie flipped through their DVD collection.
Henry and Evan sat in silence as Henry looked around and rubbed his hands.
"So, where's your brother?" Henry asked, looking around the house.
"He ran upstairs." Evan answered, looking up at them as if Michael would appear there in seconds. But Evan knew better. He was probably locking himself in his room for the rest of the night. He turned back to look at Henry, but couldn't quite read his expression as the man grumbled something to himself.
"..Well, I see you made cookies! Mind if I take a bite?" Henry grinned as he walked over to the plate on the kitchen counter. He had moved too fast, as Evan was just about to respond until Henry took a bite out of the poorly iced mess. His face went sour, and Evan couldn't help but snicker.
"We- we didn't do the best, I'm sure you can tell." Evan said as he watched Henry put the cookie back down on its plate.
"No worries, kid. I guess it's Santa's problem, not ours." Henry sighed and walked off into the living room. But Evan stayed put as his gaze wandered to the stairs.
He wasn't actually going to stay upstairs, was he?
-------------
Evan walked down the hall, peering in each room. Every step he took made the floorboards creak, making Evan walk lighter than usually. He passed by his room, and the door was closed. He looked at all the drawings scattered on his door, some drawn by Michael and some drawn by himself.
Elizabeth's door was decorated with stickers and one of those "no boys allowed" signs -- a gift that she put up as a joke. Evan continued walking. The bathroom doors were both open, and Michael's door was locked shut. his door held no drawings, or no stickers. Just a door handle and peeling paint. Evan held his ear close to the door, but couldn't hear any signs of Michael. He was most likely in there, but Evan had to be sure.
..That left only 2 rooms to check.
If Evan wasn't stepping lightly before, he was definitely floating by now. Even just standing by the door of William's office was enough to make him remind himself to breathe. The door stood tall and foreboding, somewhat like his dad. The light was off, so Michael couldn't be in there. Evan turned to the room at the end of the hall.
William's room.
Of course, it had never been just William's room. It used to belong to their mother too, once upon a time. Or more like a few years ago. but it seemed like Evan's instincts were right, as the lamp on the bedside drawer was on. Michael was right beside that drawer leaning against the bed and burying his head in his arms. There was a book by his feet, sitting upside down with pictures falling out of it.
Something told Evan that the book wasn't Michael's sketchbook.
Evan walked closer to Michael, and the boy lifted his head up.
"Screw off Cass, get out." his throat was raspy; Michael sounded like he was tired. His voice was the quietest it had been in years.
Evan stayed silent. He moved closer.
"..Are you deaf, I said--"
"I heard you, and I'm not going to let you yell at me anymore!" Evan's voice wavered as he spoke.
"Oh, what, did you--"
"All day you've been rude to me AND Elizabeth, and you're always just rude in general! Why do you get to just- why do you not realize that when mom died, it.. it hurt us too. But you don't get that, because you're mad at our father, and.."
Evan felt tears welling up already. Why was he such a crybaby?
Evan and Michael both fell silent as the two thought of what to say.
"..You really suck at yelling." Michael grumbled as he picked the book up. Evan wiped his tears and tried to compose himself so he could continue his rant, but he finally noticed what the book was.
It was a photo album.
Evan took a breath as he moved closer to sit beside Michael.
"In a way, you aren't wrong. I am mad at our father. Because he doesn't give a shit about us or about mom's death-"
"Liar! Dad talks about her all the time! You wouldn't know that because you barely try to talk to him."
Michael ignored him as he flipped through the pages. Their parents didn't take many pictures of themselves, but there were lots of family photos. A picture of Michael on a high chair as he eats baby food. His hair sticks out in every direction. Carol is cleaning his face, smiling for the camera as she tries her best not to laugh. A beach day photo where she's putting sunscreen on a younger Elizabeth as Michael and Evan splash around in the water. Michael and Carol at a school dance.
Slowly but surely, Michael and Evan's mom started to appear less and less, until the last picture was of William and Henry at the opening of the Pizzaplex.
"It's like she's.. slowly disappearing. From the book, from us-- And somewhere deep down, I WANT her to. So I don't have to think about her everyday. So the pain is easier." Michael sobbed. Evan's eyes widened as Michael was crying real, live tears. Was this a prank?
"I can't remember anything else from our childhood except her."
As awkward as it was, Evan shifted closer to rest his head on Michael's shoulder. Michael didn't push him off. He didn't yell at him. It just happened. And that was enough.
They sat in silence for a good while.
"..It feels weird to see you cry. It's like our personalities were swapped or something. Like 'Freaky Friday'." Evan muttered in a soft voice. Michael sniffed and wiped his eyes as he let out a genuine snicker. It wasn't in a mocking or sarcastic tone, for the first time in a while. Evan still wasn't used to this.
"Maybe it should happen more. For the both of us. I can... cry more, and you can stand up to me more." Michael admitted. He sighed and rested his head on Evan's, like they were 2 brothers who actually liked each other.
Someday, maybe that could happen.
-------------
The rest of the night flew by. Evan and Michael finally went back downstairs to join everyone else and have a movie marathon, along with some TV dinner. They talked, and danced, but eventually Henry and Charlie had to drive back home. Henry allowed them to open at least one Christmas present before they left, and Elizabeth made sure to pick a big enough gift. Because of course, Henry wouldn't allow her to pick the box that DEFINITELY wasn't a new toy playset.
Michael got a set of watercolors, Evan got a set of pajamas, and Elizabeth got a 16" Glamrock Chica plushie. The Emilys went back to their house, and the Aftons got ready for bed.
William Afton was still nowhere in sight.
Falling in and out of sleep, Michael lay in his bed, snuggled up in a pile of 3 blankets with the fan running. It was peaceful.
That was, until Elizabeth creaked the door open and poked at Michael. And when he didn't respond to pokes, she rocked him back and forth.
"... What, Liz? It's.. I don't even know what time it is, why are you still awake?" he mumbled.
"Me and Ev can't sleep," she whispered, Glamrock Chica plushie in her hands.
"Well, that's not my problem, is it? If you're awake, Santa won't give you any presents. He knows when you're sleeping," Michael told her.
"Exactly! We need you so we can fall asleep, and then Santa can come! Get up already!" she dragged the boy out of his blanket nest as he protested. Evan had been waiting by the stairs, with a nightlight in one hand and a Fredbear plushie in the other. The 3 siblings walked down the stairs as the Christmas tree shined as bright as a fire.
"Why are we going in the living room?" Michael nearly tripped on his feet as Elizabeth led him around the house. He looked down at Evan, who was just as confused.
"Aw, wait... Michael, I'm gonna go take your blankets. Help Evan move the chair closer to the tree, okay?" she said in a hurry as the girl ran back up the stairs. Evan set his nightlight down, and Michael finally understood what Elizabeth was planning.
"I'll get some chairs," Michael muttered to himself.
Soon enough, Elizabeth had hurried back down with blankets in hand. Evan had knocked over a few things while he pushed the chair, but they'd fix it in the morning. Michael spaced out the chairs, and Elizabeth draped them all on top of each other.
It wasn't the best, but it was a feasible blanket fort. Michael took the pillows off of the couch and threw them into the fort, as the 3 settled in and got comfy. Michael propped up one more pillow for his head, and closed his eyes.
"Now go to sleep," he told his siblings. In twin movements, Elizabeth and Evan rested their heads on Michael's shoulders. He could have pushed them off, but he was getting more tired at the second. He listened to their breathing get slower, and Michael laughed at the thought that 'visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.'
Michael started to feel himself drifting away, and just before he fell asleep, he swore he heard the jingling of bells and something on the roof.
Maybe he made that part up in a sleepless haze. Maybe it was really his father's car engine.
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pasdasin · 3 months
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Entanglement - ch 1
first chapter of this series! im so excited lol!
cw: cussing prob. idk what else pls lemme know
read under the cut!
next
Heavy rain always recalled the pain of the captain’s past. A demented reminder of the life that he had left behind in order to survive. The horror of the fated day replayed in his mind as he leaned over his desk. With such heavy rain, the commander, Erwin, believed that a rest day was in order. Just a few weeks after the coup d’état and an inevitable expedition right around the corner. Rest was needed but the farthest thing on Levi’s mind. His thoughts shifted from the painful day to more peaceful memories of his dear friends. It was harder to remember their voices and the way they looked the longer time passed, as the more people he lost grew.
A knock recaptured his attention and brought him back to reality. He muttered an enter and looked up to meet the eyes of his only two friends left in the above ground world. He quickly stood up and greeted Erwin before glancing at Hange. 
“Levi theres a problem…” Erwin stated as Hange closed the door, making sure no one was able to hear the conversation.
“Problem? What do you mean Erwin?” Levi looked up at the commander, confusion laced his eyes.
“Ever since the Coup, we had a suspicion that someone wouldn’t be happy. I was right, just an hour ago we intercepted a package addressed to you” Erwin stated sitting in one of the chairs around his office. “Inside was a heart, we suspect it is human but we cannot be sure until it gets tested.” 
Levi’s eyes widened. It was impossible, Kenny had died by Levi’s hands. All of his connections to the underground world had either disappeared or died. Only a man with a death wish would try to pull this stunt. 
“A letter came with it, detailing some woman in the underground…” Hange tailed off, pulling it out of her pocket and handing it to Levi. Levi took it and read it. His face dropped as he gripped the paper. I thought she was dead. 
“Erwin, I would like to take my team to the underground city. I have an idea of who is behind this.”
----
A wolf whistle reaches your ears as you arrive to the run down building you called work. Dull eyes looking up to meet your boss and his companion. A few girls sitting up next to some sleeze bags and a full bar. Your boss grinned ear to ear as he looked at you. It was no secret that your boss, Conrad, had the upmost favor and adoration for you. The only girl he had employed to stay fully clothed. 
Conrad ran maybe the only neutral territory in the underground and of course it was a brothel. Upstairs moans and creaky floor boards were heard. Some girls looked at you with jealously, others with respect, but only Conrad knew the real reason he didn’t pimp you out. Not even you had learned the true reason, all you knew was that you were thankful.
“Ah there is my favorite girl in the whole world!” Conrad exclaimed as you approached his table, stroking your cheek affectionately. You gave a curt nod. Before opening the booking journal you carried. Conrad and his partner, Darius, discussed business plans, money, investments, remodels, and the whole works while you carefully jotted down the important information and repeated the minutes. The two men shook hands and Darius left. You turned your head to face Conrad.
“Sir, is there anything else you’d like me to record today before I balance the books?”
“Yes actually, Y/N please come into my office.” Conrad whispered before carefully leading the way. You both entered his office and you sat down in your usual chair. Before you could question him, Conrad dropped a heavy box on the table in front of you.
“As you know, Kenny the Reaper is dead. Now I don’t know who you pissed off but tell me why there is a heart in a box being mailed to my establishment.” Your eyes widened and as you peered into the box you left the bile rise in your throat. Your mouth opened but nothing came out. A note was attached addressed to you. Reaching for it as you tried to avoid the heart, you quickly scanned the message before gasping. It's impossible… they told me he was dead. 
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