#10:56AM

[itsallgrayarea]

Progress?

So yesterday he spilled his heart to me about family matters that he refused to talk about for the past 4.5 years. It felt like a big step.

Our wedding date is booked but we still aren’t engaged. He says by the end of the year. Tomorrow is October.

[xaviergalatis]

[gooperts-gunk]

writing this at 3:45am. what if skeppy's the special guest and that fuckin uhhh email thing i see floating around sometimes about ordering muffins for a special guest that was actually q!skeppy who is working for the feds trying to keep a pre-island q!bbh satiated until they can erase his memories and plop him on the train with everyone. im so sane im so present, so present in the lore, im fine without bbh streams im fine i definitely don't think about hypothetical q!skeppy every day, the interests are a normal amount of special. (my self-indulgent delusions continue below the cut)

and i DEFINITELY don't think about the skeppy calls where they went from "i didn't miss the train" insinuating, implying something into q!skeppy being trapped as two diamond blocks and that actually q!bbh didn't need an antenna to call outside the island at all because skeppy was on the island the whole time. the first call was prior to the skeppy statues if my vague timeline of events is correct. how the fuck did the first call happen. im SO normal. IM SO NORMAL!!! NO ONE WANTS Q!SKEPPY CANON + HEAVY LORE MORE THAN I DO BUT IM SO NORMAL!!!!!!!!! Q!SKEPPY IS IN THE FUCKING FEDS AND HE'S WHY Q!BBH GETS SPECIAL TREATMENT IDC!!!!!! GRRRR BARK BARK i then foam at the mouth and fall asleep peacefully albeit rabidly

[skrubu]

[kodittomat]

Turre ERITYISADOPTIO Sydänviasta huolimatta erittäin energinen Turre vailla kotia.

[thatbuddie]

after buck and eddie get together, eddie starts giving buck absentminded kisses all the time.

kiss on the forehead after he passes him his morning coffee. kiss on the cheek while buck is cooking dinner. kiss on the back of his hand as buck drives them to bobby’s house for a family bbq. kiss on top of his head while they cuddle watching a documentary. kiss on his shoulder while they sit on the station couch reading in between calls.

but buck’s favorite kisses? the ones edde blows him from a distance. when no one is looking during a call and they have to separate, buck doing evac and eddie treating some minor burns. when buck is pulling out of the their driveway to go meet maddie and jee for lunch and eddie sees him off from the front porch. during their family night out at the movies with chris in between them before the action film their son chose and they’re both probably going to hate begins.

every single blown kiss is always followed by eddie mouthing “i love you” at him, and every single time buck feels himself start to blush, the butterflies in his stomach staging a very chaotic and uncoordinated flash mob.

there’s something so exhilarating about knowing that no matter how close or far away they physically are eddie always wants to be kissing him. like eddie knows just as well as buck does that his lips were always meant to graze buck’s skin and leave behind goosebumps for hours to come.

even when they can’t see each other at all, buck knows eddie is thinking about it too because eddie does not go more than 3 hours without sending him little �� emojis. he doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t contextualize them because he doesn’t need to. it's just random 😘 throughout the day, scattered in between the rest of their texts.

buck [3:33pm]: got caught in traffic, chris and i will be there soon! eddie [3:33pm]: ok, hen and denny just arrived eddie [6:03pm]: 😘

&

eddie [11:27am]: can you write “chris dentist appointment” on the kitchen calendar for 10/17? buck [11:31am]: done! eddie [11:32am]: thanks, baby eddie [2:16pm]: 😘

&

buck [10:08am]: we also need eggs! buck [11:43am]: remind me to replace the lightbulb in chris’s bedside lamp eddie [1:14pm]: 😘 eddie [3:09pm]: your amazon package just arrived buck [3:09pm]: yaaaaaaay eddie [7:24pm]: 😘

&

eddie [6:02am]: 😘 eddie [8:56am]: 😘 eddie [9:07am]: 😘 eddie [12:31pm]: 😘 buck [3:17pm]: 😘😘😘

[ameliathornromance]

9:24am:

“Okay, okay, I have to go! I’ll be late for the train!” You push your Orc away, laughing as he tries to press another, final kiss onto your lips.

Chuckling, he locks the door behind the two of you and the pair of you set off down your flats hall and to the lift. “Make sure you have a good day today, yeah?” He tells you as the lift dings and opens.

“You too, tell me whether or not you managed to tell your friends about the house warming tonight.” You smile. Today was the day, from 3 o’clock onwards, it was go time. You felt guilty… A little. But you knew that the guilt would be worth it if it meant that you got to surprise your Boyfriend with the best Anniversary party he’d never forget.

He’d caught you mid planning – you were sat on your phone looking at cake recipes and he just had to look over your shoulder and ruin the fun. Lucky you were able to cover by saying it was a ‘house-warming party.’

“But, we moved in like, two weeks ago?” He’d said, smile fading on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to have them the day you move in?”

“That’s just too chaotic!” You said, laughing a little too hard. “Who has one of those on moving in day? Talk about overwhelming, am I right?” Your heart squeezed when he turned away, eyebrows furrowed in clear disappointment.

You knew he thought you’d forget. Everything was so… much at the moment. Coupled with moving in a few weeks ago, you had plausible deniability to be forgetful.

No, you reminded yourself as the lift descended to the ground floor. No time for guilt, you had to get this show on the road.

“Of course I will, you’ve been planning it for weeks, of course I’ll tell everyone.” Your Orc’s smile faltered slightly. Did you really forget such an important date as your anniversary? Your Orc thought.

Sure, he might have jumped the gun a bit, bought you both a flat to live in for an early present, but who doesn’t get a little overexcited about two years with the love of their life?

There wasn’t even a ‘happy anniversary’ when you both woke up. Your Orc hadn’t said anything either – he’d already said it a hundred times over when he was showing you the flat he bought… you saying it back once on the day wasn’t that much to ask for, was it?

“You okay?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

His smile returned, more vacant this time. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

And with that, the two of you set off to work.

10:56am:

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you dial your partner.

“Hello?”

“Sadie’s annoying me again, she can never keep her mouth shut about her son.” Locking the cubicle door, sitting on a cubicle toilet with the lid down, you fume. “She’s such a boy mum.”

“You know it’s polite to say hello back, right?” your Orc replied, a smirk in his voice. “Don’t tell me she’s coming to the party tonight.” He’d heard all about your vendetta against Sadie, the boy-mother who couldn’t keep her spawn out of her conversation for two minutes. If Sadie was as bad as she sounded, your boyfriend didn’t want to meet her.

“God no.” You said. The bathroom door opened and closed, you lowered your voice, “if I have to hear about ‘precious Braydon is the top of his class again!’ in my own home I might throttle her. Being a parent is fine, but if you’re going to make it your whole personality, don’t even have kids!”

Your Orc sighed from the other end of the phone: “babe, if you’re just calling me to complain about Sadie-”

“No, that wasn’t the only thing!” You said, quickly. “Um… I was hoping that you could stop and get some… fish for tonight.” You lied. There were things that still needed to be done at home, you couldn’t have your Orc coming home too early. Your friends were already at your place, helping you out by decorating. You just needed to cook and do some final touches.

“Fish?” He asked, doubtfully.

“Mhm.” You affirmed. The bathroom sink ran, shut off before the entrance swung open and closed again. “Please? I forgot that June is pescatarian and now I’m going to look like a total bitch for not thinking of her.” While it was true that June was pescatarian, you had to keep your Orc out of the flat. That, and there was already some freshly caught Place at the flat, skilfully hidden away in the freezer.

Everything had to be perfect, including making your friend feel more comfortable.

Your heart twinges as your Orc Boyfriend sighs down the phone. “Okay, I’ll stop by the Fish Monger's on my way home.”

You wanted to tell him that you’re sorry, sorry that he has to go out and spend his money to help you make this surprise… but there are necessary evils in this world.

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

3:15pm:

“We’re in trouble,” was the first thing you heard on the phone. Your best friend had called you, “there weren’t enough streamers, so we improvised.”

“What did you do?” Stomach dropping, you held your breath. It can’t be that bad, right? You reassured yourself, it’s not like your best friend is crazy, they’ve got-

“… You remember June’s Hen night?”

Oh no.

“We to cut up her old sash!” Your best friend exclaims, “it’s shiny and glittery, and she said it was fine!”

You face palm. Leaving work early to get home for this surprise was crucial, you didn’t have time for last minute stops. Your Orc Boyfriend had bought the pair of you a flat for Gods sake, you needed to give him something amazing back too. And it can’t be amazing if there’s the cut up words: ‘Bride to Be’ decorating the room.

He might get the wrong idea if he looks too closely at them. “Look, I’ll head to that party shop on the way back home so we can clean this up.” Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you bid your goodbye and got on the train.

5:33pm:

Running a sleeve along your forehead, pulling out the last cake from the oven and setting it on the side, the door bell rang.

Dread shot through you. Before you could even remove your oven gloves, June was already rushing to the door.

Thank God for the Fish distraction, you thought as a few of your Orc’s friends stepped through the door: An Elf – Leo, your Orc’s college friend, a Goblin – Blik, childhood friend of your Orcs, and Fox-hybrid – Val, your Orc’s best friend from work. “Can you get started on the icing and prepare the wine?” You ask them.

Val let’s out a snicker at your haggard appearance but glides over. “Sure sweetie, what can I do to get started?”

After explaining to Val what you needed help with, you turned to Leo. “You brought the flute, right?”

The Elf gave a nod, his long hair swaying. “Are you alright, dear?” asked Blik, jumping up onto the breakfast table stool opposite you. He leans against the counter, tilting his head. “Do you want me to do something? You look like a mess.”

“Really?!” Your voice cracks at the obvious statement. Everything had to be perfect, of course you were a mess.

Leo was by your side and taking away the oven mitts from you, “leave this to me and Val, go freshen up. Wouldn’t want him to worry about you during the party you prepared.”

“But-” you start, but Leo silences you with a smile at you. “You can relax a little now, we’re all here to help.”

And you did. Leo was always good with words, partly why he and your Boyfriend had stayed close for so long – because he was always good at calming down situations.

Leaving the pair to finish the work, you evacuate to your bedroom.

6:30pm:

Your Orc didn’t believe what you said on the phone. Not one bit. You, who was super conscious about the people around you? Forget that someone had a dietary preference? No. That wasn’t like you.

But never the less, he walked into the Fish Monger’s and grabbed salmon, halibut, trout and cod. A variety of things – he wasn’t sure what June would like – and walking out of the shop, he checks his phone. No calls, no texts.

He sighs. There’s something going on here.

And then it clicked. Smiling, he tosses the bag of fish in the back of his car and clambers inside.

Your Orc refuses to believe that you would be so forgetful.

You had a surprise, didn’t you?

6:59pm:

Adjusting the pot of flowers on the coffee table, you bit your lip. “(Y/N). Stop.” Your best friend takes your hands in theirs. “It’s okay, everything will be perfect.”

You take one last look at the flower pot and sigh. Eyes sweeping the room one last time, make sure that the balloons are all inflated, streamers and bunting are where they’re supposed to be and that the food is ready to go.

The front door jangles, you dart for the lights, your friends duck behind the sofa and your Orc’s companions hide behind the breakfast bar.

Darkness shrouds the in-house occupants as you stand, back flush against the wall, praying that your Boyfriend doesn’t spot you when you’re so close to the front door.

The hallway light spills in and casts his large shadow further into the front room.

He doesn’t move for a moment, watching the darkness carefully. Finally, you switch the light.

As soon as the lights come on, everyone jumps up. “Surprise!”

Your Orc’s eyes widen, the edges of his lips curling upwards. He knew it. This wasn’t

“Happy Anniversary!” You approach him and take him by the arm. You smile up at him, “come in,”

“Wait, what is this?” Your Orc Boyfriend plays dumb, “I thought this was a house-warming party.”

“Well, it kind of is.” You rub the back of your head, “but… I felt bad. You bought this whole flat for us and… There’s nothing equal that I could give back to you. So, I thought that, since this was an anniversary present, I’d set up a party with a few of our friends.” You beam.

Your Orc’s eyes scoop around the room, friends smiling at him and beaming. “They helped me get some of this stuff ready of course, my friends did the decorations and yours helped me with baking… Leo said he’s also going to play flute for us.”

The Elf nods, holding up the silvery instrument.

As everyone went to raid the numerous amount of dishes you had prepared, your Boyfriend looks at you as if you were some dreamy mirage.

“What’s that for?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as guests chatter to each other.

Your Orc shakes his head. “Nothing.”

10:21pm:

“I have a confession.” Your Orc says.

The flat had emptied of it’s guests, only leaving you two behind. Sitting on the sofa, wine glasses in hand and surrounded by the chaos that party goers leave behind. Party popper streamers littering the ground and coffee table, over populated with plates and empty wine glasses.

“What?” you ask, smiling.

“I kind of figured out that you were planning a surprise.”

Your smile falters, “did someone tell you? It was Val wasn’t it? That slippery-”

“No, no.” Your Orc tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, “I realised while I was on the way back from the Fisherman's.”

“Oh.” You purse your lips. “Was it that obvious?”

“It’s not like you to forget something so important.” He shrugs. “Even if it was last minute, you remembered that June was pescatarian. That’s what gave it away.”

You let on a weak grin.

“And that’s why I wasn’t all that surprised when I came in.” He took another swig from his wine glass.

“I’ll make sure to do better next time.” You say, looking at the mess in front of you. All that effort to keep the party a secret and it still flunked.

“Don’t be like that,” your Orc turned you to face him, thumb against your chin. “There was nothing to be better at, I loved the surprise… Even if it wasn’t really one.” And with a kiss on your forehead, the pair of you settled into the sofa, falling asleep in each others arms.

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[pshcomforts]

➳ shameless | psh.

highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader

“there’s just inches between us”

synopsis: you and sunghoon are academic rivals, always going head to head.

warnings/content: written in third pov. cursing. not proofread. sexual tension. kind of suggestive? a little bit of idiots in love. sunghoon gets jealous.. and possessive? reader’s always late to class but somehow still has the best grade. (this one’s my favorite so far)

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.9k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).

current song playing: shameless by camila cabello

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:35 ──────────────|───── -1:04

another day, another struggle of being late to class.

y/n sighed as she checked her phone for the time.

[ 10:42am ] — it read. she felt her heart weigh down at the given time. “fucking late again..,” she groaned while speed walking her legs to class. an unusual amount of notifications blew up her silenced phone, indicating that her friends were questioning her whereabouts.

“come on, i gotta make it.” the girl harshly huffed in quiet and unsteady breaths. “mr. lee’s gonna kill me.”

in minutes, she found herself booming through the door with only deep breaths audible. [ 10:56am ] — her phone beamed.

“made it..,” she murmured through her harsh gasps for air.

“y/n, you made it!” yelled her friend, dae, who had widened eyes. “well to second period but..”

“y..yeah, hold on… give me a second.” her hands smacked down on his desk as her head lowered with exhaustion.

dae giggled at her state. “did you run here?”

“i basically did!” she yelled out, causing him and their two other friends — min-su and ji-woo to laugh as well.

“you’re who i have to beat and yet you can’t even get to class on time?” a voice from behind jerkily snorted.

y/n’s head instantly bolted up at that familiar, stupid tone she could easily recognize. “shut the hell up, park. you’re here more than me and yet your scores are lower, you really wanna mention who’s beating who?” she shot back with an intense glare.

her rival, sunghoon, only chuckled in a laugh at her words. “your score was lower than mine last test, second place. i don’t think you should be talking either.” he let a stupidly handsome smirk tug onto his lips.

she rolled her eyes, blood beginning to boil the more she looked at him. “who’s grade is higher hm? exactly.” the girl uttered, before turning her full back to him.

she heard him humor a chuckle before giving a faint ruffle to her hair. “we’ll see about that, nerd.” her hands went to the messy strands, huffing out an annoyed sigh as he left with a playful smile plastered.

her friends giggled at their relationship.

“girl, you and sunghoon need to get together already.” ji-woo chimed with a teasing grin.

y/n’s face morphed into disgust before furiously shaking her head. “are you crazy?? i could never be with someone like him.”

“your dynamic is cute though. a little disgusting, but cute.” min-su added in, shrugging her shoulders afterward.

“puh-lease. he hates me and i hate him, nothing could change that.”

dae’s brows slightly raised. “mhm… okay..,” he murmured.

“look, just because you guys are dating his friends, that doesn’t mean i should date him. he’s too much of an asshole anyway, who would even like him?”

she would. the girl was in complete denial, turning all her confused love into misdirected fuel for competition.

he was a distraction and she made sure she’d always see it that way. he couldn’t possibly differ her from the strong perspective she had of him being the hot, asshole nerd he was.

he was attractive, maybe a little too attractive; but his personality couldn’t agree with that. as her academic rival, he joked and played around with her, enjoying the little reactions he could get out of the cold, heartless girl.

but she couldn’t say she liked the teasings she’d receive from him. she could never admit to it because no matter how appealing he’d may be, he was still competition.

“well we’re not saying you should-“

ji-woo’s words were cut off by the entrance of mr. lee and their widely known friend, jay.

heads were turned and confused faces had morphed in onto each student.

“class, this is park jongseong from mr. yang’s class. he’s transferred to ours so his schedule can fit a few other classes, please welcome him,” he announced to everyone.

y/n’s eyes twinkled with delight at the sight of her friend who was awkwardly waving to his new peers. “hello..,” she heard him beam with a smile.

“you’re welcome to choose whichever empty seat you’d like. i’d suggest sitting next to either of my top two students, y/n,” mr. lee pointed to her, “or sunghoon. both are great choices to choose for catching up with our class.”

given that jay was a friend of both, he remained a little unsure before ultimately deciding to sit next to y/n.

he placed himself on the right side of her, giving sunghoon a clear shot of the two alarmingly close to each other. he let a puff of air slip by his lips as he subtly rolled his eyes.

“could’ve sat next to me but chose to sit next to that loser?” he silently fumed in his seat, forcing his attention away from the two who were conversing.

sunghoon didn’t know why but his heart was burning, aching almost. he’s never felt this way before. seeing how the girl he attempted to hate smile and smack his friend’s shoulders churned his stomach.

his jaw clenched and his ears fell deaf on everything else once he heard his rival call him — “park.”

“park?? park?” he guffawed with a loud, clear scoff in his throat. “she’s calling him park? my nickname she has for me??”

he angrily folded his arms as he tried to keep himself quiet. his mouth continued to spew out a few other words about her existence, along with some curse words added in for jay’s part before being interrupted — “why are you so loud?”

his head whipped to the right, meeting eyes with his friend, heeseung whose head was laying on the desk. “almost everyone can hear you, hoon. you’re showing that you like her a little too much.” the older male teased with a shit eating grin.

sunghoon exhaled a long breath before uttering a quiet — “shut up” to his friend. just then, a little note was thrown onto his desk, catching his attention.

his head cocked to the side in confusion before turning to the direction of where the paper came from.

in seconds, he found ji-woo’s boyfriend, jake, mouthing ‘open it.’

his hands crumbled it open and found the words — ‘are you jealous?’ — written on it.

hoon’s face immediately wore a frown as his brows furrowed back to his friend. in return, jake motioned for him to write back with his hand doing little scribbly lines.

he groaned out a soft sigh before complying to his friends words. ‘jealous about what?’ he wrote, faking his coy state to hide how he felt.

he gave a harsh toss back to jake, allowing the aussie to open it with a ‘pft’ leaving his lips afterward.

‘don’t act stupid, you’re looking sus ඞ’ — written back to sunghoon.

jake tried to throw it back to him but with such a bad angle toss, it ended up landing on jungwon’s desk.

he cocked a brow at the crumbled paper, opening it to find the two different sets of colored words — red from sunghoon and black from jake.

won turned to sunghoon with an eyebrow raise, giving a quick toss back to him, not before adding in his own input of course.

‘hoon’s jealous? about what? y/n? (⚆ ̫ ⚆)’ — colored blue to the tall boy.

sunghoon gave an annoyed grunt after reading his friend’s words. almost a little too harshly, his hands quickened in a pace before throwing it to jungwon once more.

‘i’m not jealous (ง •̀_•́)ง’— he rolled his eyes at his confirmation. “me? jealous?” he quietly scoffed in disbelief.

before he could toss it to jungwon’s desk, a snatch from the right was made to the paper, indicating that heeseung had caught on to their little game.

he crumbled it open, raising his brows and widening his eyes in amusement. sunghoon softly sighed as he watched the older male start writing as well. “great.. heeseung’s in on this now too.” he whispered under his breath.

min-su’s boyfriend finished his thought and gracefully threw it to jake. ‘he’s such a liar, i heard him just minutes ago talking about them (ఠꍓఠ)’ — heeseung wrote in green.

the younger boy silently laughed, widening his bright smile as he scribbled a few words back. ‘hoonie has a crush (ꗞ _ ꗞ)’ — he threw to y/n’s rival.

sunghoon opened the note before rolling his eyes and clenching his already-tense jaw. his hand wrote out his thoughts, pen undeniably denting the paper in frustration.

the passing of the note went around the four for a while, eventually reaching niki and sunoo as well; jay staying mindless to all of it because well, he was still talking to y/n.

the two conversing and turning to one another for a peer talk was the view from sunghoon’s perspective.

soon enough, mr. lee caught on as well, and just with luck on its side, sunghoon was the one to be seen with the passed note.

“one of my star students? really?” the teacher uttered in a slight scoff.

hoon’s head instantly lowered at the obvious disappointment present in his teacher’s tone. he’s never felt this sort of fizzling letdown before and he didn’t know how to take it.

“what? no, i-“ he tried to justify, only to be cut off by mr. lee — “i’m fairly disappointed, sunghoon. i expected more.”

everyone’s eyes were on him and all he could do was have an embarrassing amount of blush on his cheeks.

“you’ll serve detention for disrupting my class after school today. see me then.”

his head lowered even more, avoiding the judgmental stares received from his peers.

a snicker then came from the direction of where his rival was at. a poorly hidden snicker at that.

y/n softly snorted out laughter, hands attempting to cover her mouth but doing it very horribly with the fact that her worst enemy was just embarrassed.

sunghoon shot a glance to her, teary eyes narrowing at the girl before shifting to jay who was trying to quiet her down. there it was again. his heart painfully throbbed at how his friend interacted with her.

“well if you think it’s so funny y/n, you can join sunghoon for detention as well,” mr. lee spat to her.

almost immediately, her eyes widened at his words. “what?? but-“

“can’t wait,” he intruded with a push to his glasses. “would anyone else like to join my two students who i thought were my academic weapons before i return back to this lesson? no? okay, let’s proceed.”

min-su, ji-woo, dae, and the rest of the enhypen members avoided eye contact from the two

y/n fumed in her seat, grumbling out quiet curse words to herself as she rolled her eyes. “he gets in trouble but i somehow get sucked in? pft, asshole.” she mumbled, putting the blame on him even though it was her own fault.

from the back, hoon placed his hand over his mouth to cover himself from sneering a laugh. sure, he hated the fact that he was about to spend more time with the girl he hated (liar), but he felt satisfied that she got in just as much trouble as him. then the thought of having to see her again clouded his head, and it pissed him off once more.

karma really was a bitch.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours passed through the school day, and ms. choi was the last and final teacher.

with just a few minutes left, she caught everyone’s attention. ”your tests have finally been graded, so scores will be out soon. please look out for it on the bulletin board when you get the chance.” she said, giving an approval head nod seconds after the bell rang to head over.

students scattered around to the bulletin board, little pushes and shoves were made as most of y/n’s friend group rushed for their score.

“a 95! yes!” screamed ji-woo.

“92! i can live with this,” dae pointed out.

“93! holy shit, i passed!” min-su yelled.

y/n’s eyes widened. “97?? OH MY GOD! i actually passed! all that hard work paid off!” she shouted, jumping up and down in glee.

the academic group cheered together, giving hops in their designated stance all at once. they circled around, still in oblivious glee before y/n had come in contact with sunghoon’s score.

68.

her heart dropped a little for him. she immediately stopped her jumps and examined the paper.

eight rankings.. the boy went down by eight rankings, no longer being her competition for now.

she didn’t know how to feel. for as long as she could remember, they’d been going head to head for first place, and now she’s got the upper hand.

y/n was finally in the lead and for once, sunghoon wasn’t the runner up.

her eyes continuously looked over at his score. she couldn’t even lie, she’d be in distress if her score went low like that.

‘wait- no way i feel bad for him?? i should be happy that i’m finally rank one by myself.’ she thought, scoffing in disbelief with how she almost felt sympathetic for a jerk named sunghoon. but she’d understand him — the disappointed looks from his family, the eating guilt from doing bad, the expectations to never failing again — she knew what it was like.

and it was then that y/n shifted her attention from her friends to across the hall where he was. her heart instantly thumped in pity as she watched his strikingly, attractive face turn sour with every step he took.

the look of disappointment was clear in his facial expression, and she could see it herself. she almost wore a frown when watching him slowly disassociate from his conversation with the enhypen members — something that only she noticed.

the girl watched him excuse himself to leave, then it clicked into her head that she had detention with him.

“aw fuck!” she cursed aloud, catching her friend’s attentions.

“what?” asked ji-woo with a head tilt.

“she has detention with sunghoon,” jake chimed from behind, slinging an arm around his girlfriend.

min-su and dae snickered in laughs before y/n exhausted a groan. “shut up!” she yelled to them.

“have fun,” min-su’s boyfriend, heeseung, teased with a sly smile.

“you know she won’t baby,” his girl intervened, following his smile and mirroring the evil grin he had.

the single girl rolled her eyes after noticing their friends link arms with their significant others.

“it’ll be over soon, y/n. just ignore him!” dae yelled. “i mean you could talk to him but..,”

“babe, does it really look like she wants to talk to him?” jungwon asked, planting a soft peck onto his boyfriend’s cheeks afterwards.

“well i’d rather be in there than seeing all this couple stuff.” y/n refuted, huffing out a breath of air before leaving to detention in defeat.

she left the scene, hearing the remaining words of jay scream out — “i’m staying after school for a bit, so say hi if you see me!”

when she approached the class, she felt her heartbeats in her throat. she softly clenched her chest. ‘what is this feeling? pft, this is stupid,’ the girl thought while entering in.

“y/n, good to see you’ve finally arrived on time. take a seat right there,” mr. lee spoke with another push to his glasses.

a red color picked at her cheeks when she met eyes with her arch rival, sunghoon. being announced that she wasn’t late for once in front of the person she hated was way too humiliating.

but then she remembered that he got a low score and she suddenly felt better.

y/n sat across the room from him, making sure that she’d breathe no same air as him. she gave a soft sigh as she checked her phone.

[ 3:17pm ] — it read.

it’s gonna be a long while.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about an hour passed, and detention was almost over.

the entire time the two were stuck in there, it remained silent. tension filled the air with every quiet glance they could get, every small glimpse they could steal from each other.

a few minutes later, and mr. lee had finally announced they could leave.

“i sincerely hope that my two star pupils won’t disrupt my class again, have a great rest of your day.” he murmured, lips firmly pressed together to emphasize disappointment.

y/n groaned out a sigh once the teacher had made his exit. “finally gonna go home,” she mumbled under her breath.

a clink from behind was made, indicating that sunghoon was still in the class. she gave a quick stink eye and though he couldn’t see it, she felt stupidly proud of herself.

she exited out before he could, head directly staring down onto her phone, causing her face to meet a very broad chest.

y/n shot her head up, expecting to see a stranger but instead saw a familiar face. “oh jay! you stayed!” she yelled.

his face beamed a bright smile before nudging her head. “yeah i had to for a class, how was it spending time with sunghoon?” his brows raised in amusement, enjoying how frustrated she got.

“shut up, park!” she cackled, sending a smile and a smack to him.

it was then that sunghoon’s feet were glued to the ground at the door frame. he seethed through the gaps of air in his teeth. there it was again; that stupid pounding in his heart.

the nickname ‘park’ was in a different sense of tone that he’s never heard before. a playful, sweet tone that set him off in the wrong way.

“park?” he unbelievably scoffed.

he watched the two interact from afar, hearing how they unintentionally flirted with each other was boiling his blood. jealous? no. can’t be.

“are you about to leave?” he heard jay ask her with his infamous smirk.

“yep, just waiting for my brother.” y/n beamed, showing him a bright smile that should’ve been for hoon.

the tall male rolled his eyes. she’s never that nice to him.

“i could take you home if you want?” jay asked, lips pressing into a line.

sunghoon’s heart dropped, sank even. taking her home? his arch rival? hell no.

he stepped into the scene with a firm jaw clench. arms folding in an irritated way, he spoke — “i’m gonna talk to y/n, no need to take her home.”

he stared down at jay, unintentionally burning holes into the boy who had accidentally got involved. no sense of indulging familiarity spoke in his eyes because all he could do was drag his enemy away with a tight grip on her wrist.

hoon brought her to a more secluded area, ignoring her confused whines to let go. he loosened his grip, letting go just to grasp her in his hands again. they dug into her shoulders as he pushed her back against the wall.

he furrowed his brows before keeping his gaze down, avoiding eye contact. y/n didn’t say anything as she stared at him in confusion.

only heavy breaths from him were heard before he angrily spat — “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

his teeth gritted, digging his fingers deeper into her shoulders. he didn’t know why he was acting this way. he just couldn’t stand the fact that she was so close to jay after basically spending an entire day together.

y/n’s brows furrowed at his question. “what? what’s wrong with you? i was just talking to jay.”

hoon’s head picked up at her words, finally locking gaze in a softened look she’s never seen before. “does he mean anything to you?” he croaked in a husky voice.

“he’s just a friend. why are you even asking this? you’re not my boyfriend,” the girl scoffed with a slight smile. “you’d like to be though, wouldn’t you?”

“shut up,” he seethed in a stern expression. his softened eyes turned back to a glare. y/n quickly caught onto the pent up frustration in it, hinting that his test score added in on his outburst. “you don’t know how badly i wanted to pull you away from him today, how badly i should’ve shown him that you’re not his.”

sunghoon’s face inched closer to hers, noses delicately coming in contact. she could feel his breath on hers and all she could do was feel physically weak.

“i should’ve huh?” he uttered in a scoff, trailing his gaze from her lips and back to her eyes. “would you have liked that?”

their lips were close to connecting, grazing against each others. she’d pull in but he’d pull away, and when he’d pull in, she’d pull away as well.

✩ ‘i want you to give in, i want you to give in’ ✩

tension raised and so did their body heat. y/n’s hand was firmly pushed on his chest but she didn’t actually push him away, she just liked having the chance to have her hand lay there. she felt her heartbeats get louder within each second, chest heaving at how close he’s been getting.

✩ ‘there is tension between us’ ✩

“this is not like you, sunghoon.” her brows furrowed more. “you can’t be acting like this.”

“i can’t?” he cracked with a shit eating grin. “and why can’t i?”

his head cocked to the side before questioning with his eyes. “isn’t it better for us to act like this than us acting like enemies?” he inched his lips closer once more, letting just heavy breaths be audible to ears.

✩ ‘i just wanna give in’ ✩

y/n’s hands finally pushed against his chest. “control yourself, park. you’re not my boyfriend.” she repeated, face becoming stern.

“control myself?” he laughingly mocked. “you don’t know how much i’ve been doing that in front of you. i’ve been holding myself back this entire time from doing more, and you want me to control myself, now?”

✩ ‘it’s been a secret for the longest time’ ✩

sunghoon’s grip tightened around her shoulders once more, pressing her harder against the wall.

“look at me, pretty girl.” he spoke, letting one of his hands hold onto her chin.

y/n gulped. her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach at the sudden name change. she’s never seen this side of him before. it was new and unfamiliar, and she liked it.

✩ ‘i need you more than i want to’ ✩

hesitantly, she let her eyes fall on him.

he jerkily smiled, enjoying how his academic rival had now fallen under his touch.

“control myself?” sunghoon restated. “fine, i’ll control myself.”

he quickly backed away, grip loosening and letting go. he watched her fall into ease, hands clenching onto her chest to stop her rapid heartbeats.

a sly smirk curled onto his lips as he raised his brows. “see you tomorrow, nerd.” he uttered, walking away soon afterward so he could have the last say.

y/n stayed still in her stance. her sense of touch almost went numb as she tried to process all of what happened.

she suddenly felt her phone buzzing, indicating that her friend group was calling. her brows pinched together before declining the call, and texting that she’d join when she’d get home.

a breath of air left her mouth once she found a text notification from her rival, sunghoon.

park 👎🏼:

Let’s talk soon, pretty girl.

I don’t think I could ever control myself around you.

nothing would ever be the same between the two again.

★・・・��・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[satoruhour]

What do you think about gojo begging reader for a duck lmao? Maybe he wants kids but reader thinks 20 is too young so now he really wants a duck?

a/n: anon u so fuckin real for this, enjoy !!!! had lots of fun writing this / tagging my gojo luvers @jabamin @hyomagiri @crysugu @satohruu

yeah. yeah he would.

would be so eager about it too, like arent you fathering megumi and tsumiki ??? dude

my hc is that yes he took them in around 18 and you were already together with him and getting used to taking care of the two kids

but he would randomly get baby fever while seeing you be so caring and loving to the two, and not to mention for the first two years megumi usually stuck by you LMAOOO

tsumiki warms up to gojo more or less but theres still some barrier between gojo and the kids

so one day while youre both waiting for megumi and tsumiki at their school two years later he randomly announces in his annoying voice that “we should make a baby!!!!”

god the faces of all the parents waiting together with them 😭😭😭 and it’s so funny too cause it’s implied in S1 the siblings walk home together without a guardian and they would do perfectly fine without the two of you.

and bc of megumi’s usual embarrassment of gojo (and sometimes you) he tells you two to stay home cause he knows where you guys live but gojo just HAD to bring you here today bc he finished a mission nearby (lies. his fav kikufuku store opened an outlet near the school) and whats wrong with wanting to see the kids ya know

but anyway you seized his arm and slapped it just as the kids were coming out and shoved him so hard he almost fell. he fake cried that night in your arms and megumi made sure to ban you both from visiting both their schools ever again (it was right next to each other)

it doesnt seem to affect gojo much however until megumi brings home a consent slip for a farm excursion and hes like sure! he goes on the website of the farm and gets a splendid idea

well, splendid by his standards, but terrible by yours

[9:50am, delivered]: satoru i almost couldn’t find ur contact why did u change it 😭😭😭

[9:56am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: DAMN? why ??? curse me for wanting a cute name on my baby’s phone.

you literally saved me as “gojo satoru”

[9:57am, delivered]: bc thats literally ur name u fucking loser ????? 

[9:59am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: photo attached

[10:01am, delivered]: you went finding for that pic didnt you 

you’re so engrossed in the conversation (or rather, you making fun of him), pausing so intently that the person behind you has to ask you to move so you can order some damn mochi for your sweets-obsessed boyfriend. but before you can open your mouth to tell the cashier what you wanted, there’s another text that comes in and you’re torn between confusion and incredulity.

[10:01am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: also can we get a duck

[10:02am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: and NO i dont mean a fuck you dirty girl muhahah i know you thought that

eh, well, maybe you did.

[10:02am, satoru the bestest and coolest 🩵]: please pleasp eeplelasepplea

and also, you think that maybe you didn’t really want to buy kikufuku for your boyfriend anymore.

gojo is elated later when you hand him the bag of mochi from his favourite store, him still following you around like a puppy, looking almost comical with his tall figure crouching so low.

“so?”

“we are not getting a duck, satoru,” you sigh with your hands on your hips because when gojo begs like that it’s just so adorable, but the other doesn’t let up, using his blue-eyed charm on you and you hate to admit that it’s working — except maybe you would give in if it was a cat or a dog or even a hamster.

“a duck?”

gojo shoots up immediately and you’re reminded of his impending height compared to yours, “yes!”

“no!”

your boyfriend pouts again and reverts to his submission-to-you pose as tsumiki likes to call it, “pleaseee?”

you make a big dramatic out of thinking, “hm, get on your knees.”

gojo’s surprised but he does it without a second thought and you’re taken aback just a little at his obedience. if this was the way to get him to properly wash the kids’ clothes or to clean up after eating in the messiest way known to man, you’d get him to do it all the time, but you’re snapped out of your little realisation when megumi opens the door, tsumiki next to him giggling non-stop — the excursion bus probably had dropped them off on the front porch.

“what’s going on?” you’d think it was the other way round: the two siblings being the responsible adults whilst you two were acting like kids, especially with the way megumi asks the question. gojo isn’t phased.

“trying to convince your surrogate mother here,” gojo nudges his head toward you with a slight scowl on his face, “to get us a duck.” your hand lands a smack against the back of his neck.

megumi pulls a face and tsumiki only laughs even more and starts to nudge megumi with choked laughter, seeing his hands start to form a sign: his rabbit, no, divine dogs shikigami—

four ducks start materialising from shadows, crowding around the two of you and bombarding you with both quacks and playful nips on your skin and your temporary anger with your boyfriend fades, focusing on the seemingly happy faces of the ducks and the way they waddle. you’re stuck in between laughter and the softness of their feathers until—

“oh, this is their natural state, but they turn into angry, sorta scary geese on command too, although i haven’t really gotten the hang on it—”

gojo’s eyes widen, “megs, no!”

needless to say, megumi sits a little sheepishly later as he watches gojo clean up your scratches and mild wounds, getting a well-deserved (light) lecture and a kiss on the forehead later from you for discovering a new shikigami during movie night, gaining a little smile from gojo as he cuddles a sleeping tsumiki closer.

[valaruakars]

Let's Get Physical (Part 7)

Viktor/F!Reader || 6.3k || Modern!AU + Gym!AU || SFW

Bitches hate you for your overzealous approach to supporting your friends and deeply anxious behavior. Viktor is not bitches.

A/N: Omg. We're here. We're back on our bullshit. Thank you to everyone who beta'd and/or provided me free therapy about this for that past um... seven months. Oops. Thank you to everyone who reached out over the (unintentional) hiatus with encouraging comments and asks. I hope you'll understand why I took so long to handle this with care and unpack some of my own issues. Very cathartic. Would recommend.

Part 1 → Part 2  → Part 3 → Part 4  → Part 5 → Part 5.2 (nsfw) → Part 6  → Part 7 (Ao3 Link)

Before you know it, two weeks and a day have passed. They make no palpable difference. 

Except maybe in your quadriceps. 

The same weights you’ve been using feel almost effortless, too easy. You don’t fatigue as quickly into heavy breathing and the urge to cheat yourself a rep or two—not lunging with the dumbbell gripped at one of its wide ends, not squatting while it’s clutched close to your chest. It’s suddenly not enough. 

Nobody’s around to see it, but progress is progress. Turns out, you’ve finally graduated to heavier weights on this lonely leg day you’ve committed to. 

That’s a bit of a misnomer, though. The day is mostly past you now. It’s evening—crisp and wispy, sky like striated fire outside the garage—and as the sun sets, you’re reminded of the late start you’re up against. All because you forgot something. 

A good attitude is optional. A scrunchie you can live without. But your shoes? Leave them forgettably kicked off in two different directions on your bedroom floor and you’re fucked. It’s a small miracle you’re here, dragging around weight plates, setting up a barbell. There was a very real danger of tripping and falling into bed—totally by accident, never to get up again—when you drove home and stomped upstairs to grab them. 

But whether or not he knows it, likely the latter, Viktor keeps you accountable when no one else can. It’s because the only running you truly love is the risk of seeing him, which still requires proper footwear. And for you to leave the house. 

Though by the time you whipped into the driveway and thrust the gear shift into park, it’s empty. He’d left already; you didn’t get to see him off on his reluctant shuffle through the garage. But lucky you—he tends to come straight home after physical therapy. Call it friendly concern that you’re paying attention. 

It’s probably an odd way to think about a friend. You need to work on that. 

Your phone vibrates dully on the padded bench beside you. Nearly knocking your water over in the process, you grab it to find a text from Jayce—the usual culprit. You slide it open, accidentally brushing the top of the screen with shaky fingers. It catapults you to the beginning of your most recent messages before you can read the new one. 

Mon, Oct 10

[Jayce Talis, 5:56am]: Did you leave the back door unlocked last night? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: And the pool lights on? [Jayce Talis, 5:57am]: Was Viktor in the pool?

[7:32am]: Holy shit. Good morning. [7:33am]: No, no, and why do you think I know these things??

[Jayce Talis, 7:45am]: Sorry, it’s all good. He’s alive. 

[7:46am]: ???????

[Jayce Talis, 7:49am]: You guys didn’t hang out after I left? 

[7:57am]: Idk if you would consider it that. [8:02am]: But has anyone invited him to cards on Saturday??

[Jayce Talis, 8:17am]: He already said no. [Jayce Talis, 8:18am]: Although… [Jayce Talis, 8:19am]: You could try telling him it’s strip poker. Haha :) 

[8:20am]: Blocked. Reported. Banned. NOT DOING THAT.

[Jayce Talis, 8:21am]: No wait! I was kidding. He’s not a creep :(

Tue, Oct 11

[Jayce Talis, 3:38pm]: Wait did you actually block me? 

[3:50pm]: Yes.

Sun, Oct 16

[Tayce Jalis, 8:00am]: Can I have my t-shirt back today?

[8:31am]: Oh the really old anime one? I left it with some stuff to be washed, ask Viktor. [8:32am]: Maybe the dryer did you a favor and ate it. 

[Tayce Jalis, 8:34am]: Hey! Naruto is timeless.

Today

Tayce Jalis unsent a message

Not fast enough to scroll back down, caught revisiting those unremarkable little messages, and now you’ll never know what Jayce’s butt managed to text you this time. Oh well. Keep your secrets. 

You toss your phone down behind you with a leathery slap. Back to working on the whole stop pining after Viktor thing.

Right, and your legs. 

The barbell bites into your hips as you roll it into your lap and adjust it, the bench presses into your shoulder blades. It’s heavier and harder to manage, but you do, driving down into your heels to get your ass off the ground, hefting yourself into a nice, solid bridge. From there it’s as easy as dipping your hips, which isn’t quite easy at all. No, it’s brutal. 

It burns from your core down to your thighs; has you clenching your jaw, gritting your teeth with the strain. Even your biceps are active, lifting some of the steel-hard pressure off your hip bones. 

You’re so zoned in—no thoughts, head empty except for the number six over and over until it’s seven—that you only hear the hiss of your breath in and out, the hammering rush of blood behind your ears. You don’t hear Viktor come home. 

Not until he’s standing above you.  

He had the heinous metal on metal sound in his old beige car fixed—that grinding, grating death knell in its engine. One of several potentially life threatening reasons the check engine light was always on—maybe still is. And though you much prefer him living, it’s harder to hear him coming over the steady music without paying attention. 

Bad timing for Miss Carly Rae Jepsen on your Upbeat Workout Jams playlist, considering you do really, really, really like him. Him and how he stands at the end of the bench, staring down; how he fixes you with that sliver thin smile, a manila folder tucked under the arm of his long cardigan. 

You seize with embarrassment, frozen on the upswing of your hips. “Hi,” whispers out on the end of an exhale, caught ragged in your throat. 

You can’t do pelvic thrusts in front of him. 

You just can’t. 

It’s bad enough that you’re sweaty in every skin to skin crevice and certainly flushed, t-shirt sticky and legs trembling as they hold your awkward position, but then there’s him. 

He wears that same look much better. On him, it’s healthy color across the cut lines of his cheeks; it’s still-damp curls at the nape of his neck and the jump of his lean throat when he swallows, dry when he must’ve forgotten a water bottle again. It’s suggestive. It’s hot. 

And it’s the endorphins that make you feel that way, surely, more than any affinity for men in gray sweatpants that are far more revealing than they must realize. 

You clear your throat, finding your own parched voice. “Watch your feet,” you warn, on the side of caution, dropping butt and barbell to the ground with a metallic thud. You let your head drop back against the bench pad, staring up at him with the dazed satisfaction of calling it quits. Only for the moment, of course, as you blindly feel around for your phone to turn the music down. 

And good fucking god is what you see unholy. Viktor shifts his weight before you can look away, and the ache in your core redoubles—different, deeper than any lactic acid buildup. Did his pants shrink in the wash or is it really that m—?

Nope! Absolutely not! 

You can tread no further with that thought because, really, there’s no such thing as having a platonic appreciation for your friend’s dick. Not when the friend is Viktor. 

“You’re not finished yet?” he asks. Innocent. Oblivious to your mental struggle out of the gutter. 

Typically you would be by now. Equipment racked, the citrus scent of disinfectant on your hands, picking at innocuous conversation while you walk inside together. How was your day? Did you hear they’re demolishing the old physics building? There’s a guest lecture next month that might interest you. 

“About another thirty minutes,” you breathe, “and then I’ll be done. I’m running behind.”

“Ah, interesting. That looks to me more like sitting,” he says, which is terrible enough to earn an eye roll, and snarky enough that your lips wobble and break into an insurmountable smile.

“It’s called resting, thanks. This would go faster if you stopped distracting me,” you huff, muscles loose, lips looser. 

The little spark of mirth in his eyes, so bright and awake, makes your stomach clench vice tight. “Mm. There’s no rush,” he shrugs, “but… Rio might enjoy a visit.” 

Your smile is skeptical as he pulls the file folder from beneath his arm. “Oh really?” It widens as he starts to fan you from above—chilly in the garage, but you’re still sweating buckets. It’s futile, although he’s sweet to try and help.  

He nods, gravely serious, “She told me herself.” 

You crane your neck unconsciously to let it cool the sweat that lingers there, sighing as little wisps of loose hair billow feather light and tickle your feverish skin. 

He isn’t holding it right, though. His grip is too loose on the edge.

At once, a flurry of white comes raining down on you. It’s instinct that your eyes clamp shut against the onslaught. 

“No, no, no,” he hisses as if begging could stop gravity. 

It doesn’t, of course. 

His papers flutter and scrape across the floor. An unlucky one sticks to the sweat on your scrunched up cheek. He’s quick to dip forward and snatch it back first, the easiest to reach.

You blink off the surprise and snicker, “Oh, how the tables have turned. Who’s the clumsy one now?” Rolling the barbell away over your outstretched legs, there’s nothing in its path to be crumpled beneath the weight.  

But Viktor doesn’t answer with a crooked smile or a quiet laugh, no dry wit to be found. His dark, heavy brows furrow and he insists, “No, just—just let me,” while he crouches to the ground, distributing his weight between his cane and the end of the bench. 

“It’s okay,” you insist, reaching to gather what’s scattered between you, “I’ve got it. No big deal.”

“To you,” he mutters, snatching two away before you can turn them over. Makes him lose balance. He narrowly catches himself before he can veer face first into your spandex lap,, blunt, bony fingers digging into your thigh at the hem of those skin tight biker shorts. It crushes the papers all the same. 

“Top secret nuclear codes?” you tease, drowning his muttered apologies. It sounds stupid and obvious that you’re trying to distract from the fumbling tension when his hand stays put for moments too long. Yours, too, on his shoulder to brace him. 

Just until he’s able to sit himself solidly on the ground beside you. 

He purses his lips, “My work is with reactor cores, not weapons.”

It’s only been a week since you got an impromptu lecture about nuclear fusion in the kitchen. It’s not like you’d forget so quickly. “I know—”

Impatient, Viktor reaches over your lap, too close for comfort. Whatever you were about to say is struck from your train of thought. 

His cardigan drags soft and pilled with wear across your beat up knees. Beneath it, his sweat smells sharp and strangely appealing. It’s fascinating, that draw to something so base and human. It’s unsettling, the way your heart responds like it beats between your legs.

You follow his hand, unabashedly curious, and watch him pick up another overturned paper. Below it, the next sheet is stuck face up to the floor with what you cringe to assume is a drop of your sweat, bleeding the ink of a diagram. Multiple diagrams, actually. 

Of stretches.  

The familiarity sparks excitement. 

By the time he peels up the corner of the page with his fingernail, you’re sure of what you’re looking at. It’s common ground, of a sort; the excuse to end all excuses. 

“These are from the physical therapist?” 

He sighs, sitting back in an awkward fold of spindly legs. Looks wearier, now, with his shoulders collapsed like the exhaustion of going has finally caught up. “Yes,” he admits, because you’re smart and he’s smart, and any other answer would be an obvious lie. 

You’re doing it again—digging your fingers into a soft spot that feels as ripe as it does intrusive. We do not talk about it much, he once said, but it’s hard to stop once you’ve started. You just have to know: “Do you do them?” 

His eyes cut down to the papers in his hands. “When time permits.”

“How often does it permit?” 

“Occasionally,” says Viktor, which might mean somewhere between rarely and never. 

Early mornings, late nights; classes to teach, lab hours to log, projects, papers, and a dissertation that looks done to you, but he laughs bitterly when you suggest it. Still has to find time to eat and shower and sleep, but his eyes are always restless purple and there are wrappers from meal replacement bars scattered around the house, too high calorie for Jayce to be the culprit. 

You wonder what will happen when it all catches up with him. Worse, you worry. 

Beseechingly, you reach out. Your grip is gentle as you take hold of the printouts at their edge. “Can I see?” you ask, not grabbing or pulling or taking, just there and ready. 

His lips form a tight, considering line. “If that is the last of your questions,” he slowly replies. Prickly, but relenting, he lets go before you can ever agree. 

So you don’t.  

His eyes are on you as you flip through the stack—you can feel it as a strange, shy tension like bated breath, watching and waiting. 

Page by page, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Some you’ve even done yourself, but with simple modifications. Hell, bridges are just hip thrusts performed flat on the floor, without the weight. Nothing he’d need help with, which is ideal when you’re not qualified to do anything but make space for him; to emphasize that he’s welcome and wanted, maybe offer up a sweaty-palmed high five if you’re feeling spunky. 

You peel your legs off the floor and resituate, tucking them as your turn to face him, direct in every sense. “You could come do these with us on Sunday mornings after we run, before you get started on work. It would make Jayce happy, and Vi has a really funny way of being encouraging—”

He pulls a face—a nose scrunched up, barely concealed, abso-fucking-loutely not sort of scowl. 

“Or…” you’re quick to try, “Just with me, when I’m here. It’ll take, what—fifteen? Twenty minutes?” 

“It’s a poor use of time,” he says. It’s as avoidant as it is clumsy, with a dismissive edge still dull enough to bruise. 

And that’s because: “You stop and talk to me for longer than that sometimes,” you remind him flatly.  

He sighs sharply, toying absently with the cane laid across his lap. “That is different.” He says it like it’s obvious; like it’s frustrating that you don’t know how obvious it is. 

“Well, what if we could do both at the same time?” you propose. After all, he’s got such a hard-on for efficiency, if that’s what’s stopping him. “I know you’re a good multitasker…”  

His jaw works, trapping his thoughts behind imperfect teeth. 

“And we probably keep this floor cleaner than the carpet…” you prod, because the silence of a man who can and has talked your ear off is disquieting; because you don’t always know when to stop; because this feels like a negotiation. 

“My bedroom suits my purposes just fine,” he says, eventually. 

But you never said which carpet. The thought of him sequestered in there, even for this, is fucking depressing. Arguably disgusting when you’ve walked across that rug and felt the grit of dirt, crumbs, and debris that the pattern hides through your socks. And worse: It’s a choice, so why is he making it? 

Abruptly, the rubber tipped end of his cane meets like against the rubber tiled floor. He pulls himself up on it with difficulty you can’t ignore, but shakes his head when you move to help. The only thing you do is hand him up the battered stack of papers, tucked back into the folder from which they came, when he stands up fully. You won’t hold them hostage, even if part of you wants to. It wouldn’t keep him from leaving, his back to you such a familiar sight. 

You just want to understand, though, if nothing else. To crack him like a cipher.  

Softer, you try: “I wouldn’t judge you.” It’s the last, desperate little thing you can think of. They’re like magic words to you. 

But the problem is: They don’t work on everyone. 

To his credit, his tone isn’t harsh. It’s indifferent, like stating a sterile fact. “This has nothing to do with you,” he says. “I haven’t skipped an appointment recently, and that should be enough.”

Indigence might suit you in those moments you grow a seedling backbone, but it doesn’t suit this. You can’t help it though. His frustration has bled into you, caught like kindling. “Is it?” 

“You and I do not share the same sense of priorities,” he replies, but it’s not an answer. Not really. 

The urge to turn him upside down and shake him until something definitive comes out is overwhelming—so straightforward until he just… isn’t. “If you’re not going to say yes or no, can’t you just lie and say you’ll think about it?” 

He looks you over inscrutably, sitting there in his shadow. “Why would you assume it’s a lie?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you huff. But you do. Experience and a certain friend who actually bothers to text you back have given you the answer. “Jayce says you’re stubborn and I’m starting to think he’s right.” 

Viktor nods conclusively, but doesn’t care to share what’s going through his head. As evasive as ever when he cares to be, just murmurs,“You should finish this.”

And then, for a reason that is simply beyond you, says: “I will see you later.”

But for once, you’re not sure if you want to. 

—

You rap your knuckles against his open door. 

Seriously—who were you kidding, thinking for even a second that you wouldn’t be here, doing this?

Yes, it’s well after eight now and you’re pitifully hungry, but it wouldn’t feel right to leave without saying anything. In writing a note or sending a text, you’d simply be spelling out, ‘I’m a coward!’ in far more words. It’s best, you decide, to be polite and mature and just say goodnight despite the awkward taste in your mouth that is very reminiscent of your own foot. 

And you get to say it to his back, which should be easy. 

But then there’s Rio on his desk like a pissed off paperweight, swimming the foggy side of her holding tank—sorry, prison—without any hope of escape. They’re the angriest, most pathetic wiggles you’ve ever seen. Habitual, given how tongue-smudged and abraded the plastic has become. 

“You see?” he says, gesturing to the sound of her scrabbling in his bright rubber kitchen gloves. “It’s just as I said.” 

“I think it’s more about you ignoring her.” Rio pauses, slipping down the side. Her little face conveys it perfectly: “Father is cruel? Father is… unyielding? Father hates Rio?” 

“No, no… Although, eh, yes, I suppose she does sound like that…” he muses, nodding. “I think she must wonder those things about you, actually.”

Your shoulder hits the door frame, shrugging against it where you lean. “I probably don’t matter much to her.”

There’s a heavy pause, enough for him to breathe in and hold it. Breathe out, softly: “You do.”

And suddenly, you can’t find it in you to leave. Did you ever truly have the will? 

The truth is there on your feet—those perpetually mismatched socks. You’d hoped for this, secretly, else you wouldn’t have left your shoes off at the door.  

It’s warm when you walk in. A space heater that’s been running too long glows electric orange on the floor near his desk. Makes the smell of churned earth and vinegar cleaner that much stronger. And while the clutter is clearly endemic, it seems the fuzzy, stagnant mugs are not. They’re all gone from his desk and the bedside table, replaced by sticky notes, pill bottles, and an avalanche of papers.

You come up and give Rio’s tiny, clawed foot a high-five through the plastic. “Has she been doing this all night?” you ask, looking over. 

Knee on the desk chair for leverage, he’s elbows deep in her tank, rooting those waxen, fake plants back into the substrate with unnatural posture. It’s that stiffness you’ve always noticed—ramrod straight from the mid-spine up. It’s easier to see in profile, in a thin shirt that clings to his back, that there’s nothing visibly forcing it. 

“On and off. She tires quickly now,” he says, arranging a broad-leafed plant near her favorite rocky shelter—scrubbed clean, still damp. “When she was younger, it would go on much longer while I did this.”

“How old is she exactly?” 

His sigh is almost lost beneath the hum of the space heater. He answers, “Fifteen,” in the soft, subdued way of someone who hates to be reminded. 

There’s many things you’re too afraid to ask him. Such hits as: Why did you dig yourself a hole this deep, does Jayce text everyone about you, and would I even stand a chance if things were different? But right now, most of all, it’s how long do geckos live? 

You don’t think you’re going to like the answer. 

Viktor clears his throat. “She’s very, eh… spritely for her age,” he adds, fondly this time. 

You hum a soft sound in agreement, too shaky through the legs to squat down to eye level with her. When you bend your knees to try, you realize you’ll probably never get up again. 

He glances over as you straighten up. “You can sit,” he offers without really saying where. It’s obvious, though. The only option—his rumpled bed, never made, with all its mismatched pillows. One has definitely been stolen from the couch, three are yellowed and missing pillowcases which is… ew. 

But you’re not going to refuse. You’d like to hold Rio, after all. 

You swallow hesitation and tuck yourself onto the end of his mattress, balancing on the firm edge. At least the intrusive thoughts are fleeting. Only briefly do you wonder what he thinks about at night. What he does. What he wants for.

Not you. That’s for sure.

Your elbows lock out where you grip the ridged edge of the bed. The weight of things gone unsaid, of things left unresolved bears down; it prickles warm at the back of your neck and you can’t stand the waiting silence. 

“So…” you drawl, letting your voice fill the void.

“Hm?”

“Are you going to hand her to me now, or…?”

“Ah, no, I’m finished,” he says over his shoulder. “She needs to go back in the tank.”

“Then why am I sitting here?” 

“Because I have something to ask you.”

Straightforward. Right. You forgot just how terrifying that can be. 

“That sounds just as bad as saying we need to talk,” you mutter, heart twisting into a suffocating, arterial knot. 

“We do, though,” he says, too literal, too preoccupied with placing Rio back in her clean terrarium to notice your soul leave your body—preemptively abandoning ship. 

But he’s merciful, at least. He doesn’t keep you in suspense. 

“I just want to understand at what point you developed such a vested interest in, eh… fixing me, I suppose,” he asks, like wondering what the weather will be tomorrow or what the dining hall might serve for lunch. Conversationally. “Did Jayce put you up to this?”

Your eyes narrow in thought. “No…?” you reply. It comes out too shifty as you toy with the serged edge of his blanket. Jayce put you up to something alright, though that hardly matters anymore. But, in a way, does this count? Would Viktor think that this counts?

“A sure answer, please.”

Fuck. 

“It’s just that I would lump that in as part of being friends with you—except I’d call it, y’know, caring?” You draw your leg up onto the bed, closer, tucking your foot beneath your thigh. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”

Viktor flips the grate down with a finality that lights your nerves like a beacon to flee. “So he asked you to do what, exactly?” 

“Nothing,” you squirm. 

He pivots, solidly on two feet. Doesn’t sit down in the desk chair quite yet. “It wouldn’t be the first time for this behavior, and, with you, I’m sure it was not the last. Do you know that he once provided Caitlyn with a written list of topics not to bring up to me?” 

You shrug, “He’s a good friend...” 

Now you’re staring down the barrel of being just the opposite—of throwing Jayce under the bus. 

“What did he ask?” Viktor presses.

And you break. Made brittle by your desire to put him first, of course you do.  

“All he wanted was for me to give you a chance, which was pretty reasonable after you called me annoying—” that word comes out with a bite to it you didn’t intend; sensitive, sore, “—but I never told him about that. He’s just… worried about you in his own way, I guess.” 

Viktor quietly raises an eyebrow, and that’s all it takes to snap you into fours next. It practically falls out of your mouth: “He keeps texting me to make sure you’re still alive. Sometimes I think he’s joking, but then one time he told me he had a nightmare that you drowned in the pool, so part of me actually thinks he’s being serious.” 

“He is.” 

“Wait, really—?”

“Is that why you come so often now?”

Wednesday. Friday. Sunday. Monday too, sometimes, if the day before hasn’t left you sufficiently sore enough. The pain means progress. It must.

“Well, no,” you blink, “that’s mainly because I have a lot to work on.”

“Do you?”

You gesture to yourself. All of you. The way your stomach folds and rolls and fucking exists unappealingly beneath your sweatshirt when you slouch—it could be better. The way your thighs pancake out, smushed against the bed—not getting better, but discipline and toning might shape them into something near desirable. “Yeah, obviously.”

He treads lightly. “I… would not say it’s obvious.” But his eyes are cast down as he carefully removes his rubber gloves and discards them in a bucket of cleaning supplies. He’s not rude enough to agree, but you worry, in all those moments you can feel him looking at you, that he’s thinking it. After all, he’s willowy, sharp and elegant in a way you’ll never be. Soft and fleshy. Never quite right. 

“And that’s because you’re, what, zero percent body fat?” you sigh, gesturing to him incredulously. “I’m not implying that’s healthy or ideal—honestly, I’d share some if I could—but…” Your hands curl to your chest, clasped tightly in one another when there is no one else to hold them through the indignity of admitting, “I’m the one that needs fixing. Not you.” 

He was right, though, when he said it earlier. This isn’t about you. “Where did you come up with that, anyways?” you ask. 

The lines on his face, those deep, concerned creases between his brows, spell out what the fuck. You don’t understand what’s so hard about that question—what he can’t figure out, why the confusion lingers in his eyes. “This… This is the second time you’ve offered to help me.”

“I was trying to be supportive. Encouraging, even—that’s also a good word for it.” 

“It all feels the same,” he tells you, taking his turn to sigh. “Which is to say patronizing, sometimes.”

And that was not what you intended. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a saint or anything. That’s not entirely it.” You fight the turtle-like urge to retract into your sweatshirt, which would arguably be more stupidly embarrassing than admitting: “I was just looking for… common ground, I guess. Ways to hang out without dragging you out with us.” 

“Are we not doing that right now?”

“Sure, but I feel bad about it.” There’s the silvery peek of his computer, buried on the desk. “I’m keeping you from more important things.” 

“You’re not,” he says—no, placates, but the disbelieving press of your lips makes him reconsider. “Well, eh, perhaps, but I can manage. I’ve dealt with Heimerdinger’s high expectations and, mm, sadistic deadlines for years. The weekends work well to make up for lost time, and there is all night after this too.”

“You should sleep.”

“I can’t. Not well.”

You give a creaky little bounce—not much of one, no spring to it—to demonstrate: “Maybe because your mattress feels about as hard as sleeping on the ground.” 

“One problem of many, yes.”

You count yourself among them, in one way or another. You’ve been leaking these awful insecurities all night. 

Is it any wonder that another slips? 

“It’s just—the last thing I want is to bother you. Everyone, really, but especially you.” 

“Is that because of me?” he asks quietly. “Because of what I said?”

Oh, you’ve carried this around since day one. Let it color his tone and his words and his actions. Let it haunt you trying to reach for others, the freshest nick in a line of scars that was never stitched properly. That’s what you get for letting all those little anxieties run wild with knives in their hands. That’s what you get for forgiving him before he ever asked for it, as if that would make things easier. For you. For him. For everyone. 

It hasn’t.

Viktor crosses the three steps between you on bare, nobby feet. His weight dips the bed beside you ever slightly, like he’s hardly there. But he is, by the way his leg bumps your knee, and you scoot over to give him space.  

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, grasping at some distant thread. They’re as awkward as he is in saying, “I can’t recall what I meant at the time, but it… it wasn’t that. It would’ve been fine if you thought less of me for it, but not of yourself.” 

You shake your head. “It’s—don’t worry, it’s not all you,” you say, softening his guilt, perhaps at your own expense. “I have a lot of anxiety, and that’s a long running thing, okay? It’s mostly… me.” 

“That’s… good to know. About you, I mean. Not that it’s—it’s good. Just, eh, helpful to know.” 

“I guess that’s generally the benefit of being upfront about things,” you shrug as if it comes easy. 

“I would prefer that, I think.”

It doesn’t, but the light, fizzy feeling of relief makes you want to try, if only to have more of it. Maybe more of his shy little smiles too. This time with more intention, and less leaky word vomit. 

“Okay…” You shift to face him fully, mirroring his posture in leaning back on your hand for support. “Then in no uncertain terms, I want you to know that I’m not trying to fix you.” Been there, done that, got the shitty dunce hat. People don’t change unless they want to. You know that. “I just wish you were kinder to yourself, but that’s on you. So if you ever decide you want better, whatever that means, I’ll be there. Only if you want me to and only on your own terms—no physical activity required.”

“I might want to consider it, you know…” His voice lowers, softer and softer with hesitation, to the point that you find yourself leaning in. Noticing, as he seems to have noticed, that your hands are a hair’s breadth apart. “As a future prospect, if anything. But you have to understand, I don’t enjoy being watched.”

“I get that.” 

“Mm, no, I imagine people stare at you for very different reasons,” he mutters. “Not pity. Envy, perhaps.”

“I promise, most people don’t want these thunder thighs,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap them like a used car salesman. These babies can fit so much soul-crushing insecurity, which is a terrible pitch, really. The occasional bouts of self-loathing are not your strongest selling point.

He lets out the strangest bark of a laugh, so dry it’s almost ugly, as if he can read your mind. 

But you didn’t mean to derail. “Sorry, continue.” 

“Right…” Viktor draws in a long breath, quiet for a moment before he figures out how to word it. “It’s as simple as that I would rather go unseen. It’s very, ah, personal. And painful, sometimes.”

You think of the age old adage: If it hurts, don’t do it. “Um, not a doctor, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be?” 

“So they say,” he nods pensively, eyes ticking over some distant thought, maybe a memory. “It wasn’t like this before. The discomfort wasn’t… serious. That’s how I was able to ignore it for so long.”

“Ignore what?”

Not the brutal slam of the garage door across the house, for one thing. The pictures on the wall must be hanging crooked now.

Viktor sits straighter—if that’s even possible—and calls out: “Jayce?”

Footsteps—softer, distant.

His eyes snap back to yours. “It’s been a week since he’s come home,” he tells you in a quick whisper. “Mm, well, in the evening. He’s here in the morning—”

“To work out at the ass crack of dawn? I know.”

“You were invited?”

“He knows better than to think I’ll get up that early. I saw on his Instagram.”

Footsteps—louder now.

Viktor nods sagely. “Ah, yes, the stories. By my count, he has written, eh, ‘rise and grind’ forty three times since the first of the year.”

“That’s…” Your math isn’t great but, “More than once a week,” you whisper back, on the cusp of giggles as Viktor nods. And then, it hits you. “Wait—”

But the footsteps have stopped. 

And instead, there’s Jayce’s stoop-shouldered figure braced in the doorway. He sniffles loudly.

He’s still dressed in the khakis and blue button down he wears to work—rumpled, sleeve cuffs smeared darker. His eyes have that red, raw, burning swell of someone who's tried very hard not to cry, and failed spectacularly. 

Viktor finds the words you’re looking for with immediate precision. “Has something happened?” he asks, voice tight, hand tighter on your shoulder as he leans around you to look his roommate over. “Jayce?”

They spend a lot of time apart. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that they’re best friends too. 

He swipes at his nose as it runs into the raw little divot above his lip. Beyond sadness, there’s a guilty cast to his dark, hazel eyes, turned down to the floorboards, but you can’t find your voice to tell him that this isn’t what it looks like. 

“Are you… injured?” Viktor tries again.

Jayce shakes his head. No. 

“Is your mother alright?” 

“She’s fine,” he rasps. “Um… Can I just—?” he asks, gesturing weakly to the two of you.

Which you think must translate to: “You want to come sit?” 

“Yeah.”

Viktor’s of course comes without apprehension, without judgment. Only with the apparent surprise that he even needed to ask. 

But Jayce, in several long legged strides, doesn’t come sit. No, he collapses face first onto the bed behind you, all broad, shaking shoulders and quiet sniffles seeping out from behind his arms. They hide his face and nothing else. Hands curling, clenching into his shirtsleeve, there’s the thick band of a tan line striped across his middle finger. 

You turn yourself around, scooching closer, folding up cross-legged to face him. 

You’ve never seen him like this—laid so low. A sweat stain blooms dark at the small of his back, up between his shoulder blades, but sweat is sweat and Jayce is Jayce. You reach out to rub his back despite it.  “It’s alright…” you whisper. Feels like putting band-aids on a bleeding heart, but it’s all you have. 

Soft cotton weave catches the peeling skin of old blisters as you soothe your hand in circles. His shirt leaches the vetiver smell of cologne, but somewhere beneath it, there’s an elegant, cloying perfume still lingers. It’s no secret where he spends most of his time these days. 

You meet Viktor’s searching eyes and mouth: Mel. 

He nods gravely as if to say he drew the same conclusion.

Say something—that’s your next silent suggestion, canting your head toward Jayce. 

But instead, Jayce takes a deep, wet, shuddering breath and asks, muffled into the mattress, “Can… Can we go to Taco Bell?” 

“Sure…” you murmur. He could’ve asked you to drive him two states over to bury a body and you would’ve agreed just as thoughtlessly. Anything he needs. “We’ll take you.”

He doesn’t move. Just sniffles at a prompting little scritch to the nape of his neck, where his hair fades out to shadowy, peach-flesh fuzz.

So you ask, “Do you want to go change, and then I can drive us?”

“Can I just have a minute? Please?”

“Why?” demands a perplexed Viktor, still soft spoken. Desperate for an answer that isn’t made of cobbled assumptions; blunt in its pursuit. 

And worried. You can tell that he’s worried. 

As if you’d been the one to ask, the personification of wet, doleful misery lifts his head and looks up at you. His face is a ruin of dark, clumpy lashes and tear-tracked skin. His lip wobbles, the pressure of withholding little sobs building, building, building. But speaking it aloud makes it real. Speaking it aloud breaks the levee. 

“I think we just broke up,” he finally whispers. 

And cries face-down for another hour after that.

[apod]

2023 November 16

Daytime Moon Meets Morning Star Image Credit & Copyright: Katarzyna Kaczmarczyk

Explanation: Venus now appears as Earth's brilliant morning star, shining above the southeastern horizon before dawn. For early morning risers, the silvery celestial beacon rose predawn in a close pairing with a waning crescent Moon on Thursday, November 9. But from some northern locations, the Moon was seen to occult or pass in front of Venus. From much of Europe, the lunar occultation could be viewed in daylight skies. This time series composite follows the daytime approach of Moon and morning star in blue skies from Warsaw, Poland. The progression of eight sharp telescopic snapshots, made between 10:56am and 10:58am local time, runs from left to right, when Venus winked out behind the bright lunar limb.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap231116.html

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

New Year’s Eve

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader ft. The Avengers, Doctor Strange, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes (all platonic)

Warnings: None.

Description: It’s December 31. You’ve just returned from a mission. Tony wants to throw a New Years Eve party. And Steve just wants to speak to you for a few minutes.

A/n: Wishing each of you an early Happy New Year! I hope 2023 is filled with happiness and love. Here’s to another year of little stories and imagination running wild x

There was a lot of noise coming from below. You would have been bothered if you hadn’t already been up awake still jumpy from the mission in Wakanda.

The thumps and bumps drew your curiosity and you set off on a journey to see what was happening. Two floors down, you ran into a series of strangers in the tower wearing guest passes. As they walked by, you noticed your favourite spy-turned-Avenger leaning against the kitchen bench.

“What’s with the good looking people at 8am?” You asked.

Natasha was quietly watching Tony sign some documents out on the helipad and sipped on her favourite morning juice.

“Didn’t you hear? Tony wants to have a lavish New Years Eve party tonight.”

A few of the stronger workers were lifting crates marked with ‘warning: explosive’ according to Tony’s instruction.

“And here come the fireworks. Hold this,” Natasha passed you her drink. “I need to move the quinjet before that goes up in flames too.”

You had questions but she left your side before you could voice them. The fridge door closed and Thor walked over with a tub of yogurt in his hands.

“I never understand you mortals. You can court chaos and yet create such beautiful ‘sky fire’.” He said bumping your shoulder. “A party this evening is exciting, is it not?”

“It would be if he hadn’t sprung this out of nowhere.”

Thor looked away from the workers and frowned at you. “Nowhere? Did you not receive the message two days ago on the small voicebox?” The God of Thunder recognised your blank expression and explained himself. “The phone?”

You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your handheld device. Tapping a few button, you realised that the battery had fallen flat. “Crap. It must have run out while I was away.” You realised.

Thor leaned over and touched the screen, sending a small electric current into the device and bringing it back to life. As the screen loaded, you gave a grateful sigh. “You’re like a walking source of energy.”

There were several pings of missed texts and calls that floated to the top of the screen.

29 December 10:50am - 1 missed call from Hawkeye.

29 December 10:56am - (Hawkeye) Text over your room’s access code. I need to hide the Asgardian mead.

29 December 1:21pm - 1 missed call from Thaddeus Ross.

29 December 2:56pm - (Hawkeye) Don’t ignore me.

29 December 2:58pm - (Hawkeye) Your phone’s dead, isn’t it?

30 December 7:22am - 1 missed call from Pepper P.

30 December 10:53am - (Steve) I’ve moved your mission debrief to after the party. Hope you’re keeping safe.

30 December 12:36pm - 2 missed calls from The Raft.

Dismissing them for now, you tapped a few icons to replay the voicemail left by Tony.

“Avengers - it’s time to celebrate the end of the year with flair. I’m hosting a New Years Eve party in two nights at the tower. Food, friends and fireworks. Invitations are going out right now so come dressed to dazzle.”

“What do you suppose he means by ‘dress to dazzle’? Perhaps, Jane will know. I’ve invited her to join us if she’s not too busy. Barton mentioned a tradition of kissing someone at midnight. Hopefully Jane finds me worthy.” Thor hoped.

You groaned internally. The dreaded pressure of kissing someone at midnight was something you never enjoyed. It felt too dramatic for your taste.

“Will you be bringing someone?” The God of Thunder wondered.

Patting his arm, you stepped away. “I’m going for a walk so less people ask me that question.”

Leaving him to watch the workers and enjoy his breakfast, you crossed the room to the elevator. You descended to the lobby where more people wandered about. While walking, you hadn’t noticed the foot of a marble statute poking out of place and accidentally kicked it.

Caught off guard, you cursed while hopping to nurse the temporary pain. Turning around, you found yourself nose-to-box when a hand grabbed yours, pulling you to the side.

“Whoa, easy there.” Steve laughed as he held your arm so you wouldn’t hit the stack of boxes.

“Sorry, I was just - why did we take the statue down?” You asked, looking back at the sculpture.

“Tony wants there to be more space for the crowd to mingle.” Steve replied.

“This party is just getting more elaborate by the second.” You sighed. “If I had known it was tonight, I might have stayed in Wakanda for a few more days.”

“Come on, you don’t mean that.”

You didn’t really wish to be away from home on New Years if you could help it.

“No, I don’t.” Placing your hands on your hips, you exhaled a thought. “I had hoped today would be a day of rest. Not party prepping.”

“Actually speaking of the party, if you’re not taking any-”

“Here he is! Just the man I was after.” Tony called out as he appeared from behind the super soldier having taken the stairs. He approached and patted Steve’s shoulder. “I need your help upstairs.” Tony then looked at you.

“And I need your help with the last remaining invitations. FRIDAY hit a small glitch during the send so I’ve texted you the names that were missed.”

Steve glanced at his friend. “Sure thing Tony but I was just-”

“You’ll have plenty of time later. Come on, Cap.”

With Steve on a task with Tony, you looked at your phone screen to read the message he left on your phone.

Stephen Strange, Wong, Peter and May, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes.

The latter two were easy to reach since you were always in touch. You could extend their invites on your way to Bleeker Street.

Wrapping up for the cold weather outside, you caught a cab to the Sanctum Sanctorum. As you were driven, you tried to give Sam a call but reached his voicemail.

“Hi, this is Sam Wilson. I’m not available but leave a message…”

“What are you doing?”

“Recording an outgoing voicemail so people leave a message when I can’t take their call.”

“That’s weird.”

The banter between Sam and Bucky was so enjoyable that you almost forgot to hang up when the tone beeped. You’d try again a little later in the day. 

With the traffic being a little heavier, your ride was slow so you went through a few missed calls and called back the time sensitive ones. After the third, you slipped your phone back into your pocket when you noticed that the cab had slowed to a stop. Paying the driver, you stepped out and pulled your coat a little tighter before walking up the stairs.

Knocking twice, you paused on the third when you heard a crash behind the door. Then the wooden panel creaked open and you were pulled inside and landed on a platform that wasn’t part of the usual foyer.

“Y/n! It’s so nice you see you.” Wong welcomed from somewhere above where he stood on a large rock as he wrangled against a large beast.

You waved at him when suddenly the ground you were standing on trembled. At the end of it was a second beast set on fire.

What the hell had you walked into?

It charged towards you until a magical leash fastened around its neck and pulled it away before you were swallowed. Following the thread, you saw the man you were after.

“Is now a bad time?” You called out.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Does anything about this seem normal to you?”

Looking around, it was hard to answer because the last few times you visited, there was another perilous disaster occurring within the walls.

“Actually, this is a bit of a habit.” You admitted. Stephen sighed and accepted the reply. “I came to invite you to the New Years Eve party tonight. At the tower, if you survive this.”

Stephen grappled with the reigns of his creature as it grew in strength. Wong leapt into the air, opened a portal beneath the feet of his own beast and let it fall through with a growl. He then made his way over to you.

“What time is the party?” He asked.

Stephen groaned. You ignored the sorcerer and addressed his friend. “At seven.”

Wong nodded, happy with the invitation. “I’ll be there.”

You looked up at Stephen. “And you?”

Doctor Strange sighed and cast a hand in your direction with a circling motion. “I think you still have a few more guests to invite.”

That’s when you realised that there was no floor beneath your feet and you fell through a hole only to land on a soft couch.

“Oh my god!” Aunt May cried out as a bowl of popcorn flew into the air.

Peter jumped out from the kitchen brandishing wooden spoons poised for attack. “What? What?”

You cleared out the stray kernels from your hair. “I really hate it when he does that. Oh, hi you two!”

Aunt May calmed her erratic heart and lowered the volume on the television. “Y/n, as much as I enjoy having you over, why don’t you try the door next time?”

You apologised for the suddenness and the mess as you gathered the bowl. Peter set the spoons down and walked over.

“Is something wrong? Does Mr Stark need my help?” He wondered quickly filled with so much hope.

Chuckling, you helped clean up the ruined movie snack from the floor. “Not quite. Actually we’re having a party at the tower tonight and would love for you both to be there if you’re free.”

“A party? With the Avengers?” Peter’s eyes widened, mouth grinning while trying to contain his excitement.

May cleared her throat. “Will Happy be there?”

Her interest in the body guard had not gone unnoticed particularly since Happy always asked you about her. “Oh he’ll be there.” You smirked.

May looked at Peter and then pretended that she wasn’t too excited. “We’ll let you know.”

Thanking them both and apologising once more for the earlier incident, you left their apartment.

Four down, two to go you thought to yourself. There was a buzz from your pocket so you fished out your phone. There was a text message from Clint. Opening it, you read:

Emergency. Pick up blueberries.

Frowning, you texted back while audibly speaking the message. “What happened to the batch I bought?”

Three dots graced the screen and then…

I ate them.

You glanced at the time and knew that the ingredients at the cocktail bar hadn’t been prepared yet. Tony always requested the caterers to do it an hour or so before the event. Luckily there was a good market close to the tower from which you could purchase the fresh produce. 

As you walked to the subway and rounded a corner, you managed to get Sam on the line. It would be a great way to let him know of the event. The call was picked up with a familiar bright voice.

“Well if it isn’t my favourite Avenger.” Sam answered.

“Don’t let Cap hear you say that.” You laughed with a small head shake. “Are you home?”

“No, actually I’m visiting a family friend. What’s up?”

“That’s okay. I called for two reasons. Firstly, I found some intel on Zemo’s prison cell. Had to check in a few favours there. And second-”

“There’s a party happening at the Tower?” Sam guessed.

How did he know that? “Was it Steve?”

“You know I don’t reveal my sources.” He teased. “But to ease your mind, I’ll be there.”

“Could you try and get Bucky to come as well? I know Steve would appreciate having you both.”

Sam laughed. “That’s the third time you mentioned Mr Blue Eyes in this conversation and it’s not even 2’o clock. Why you’re not dating the guy is a mystery to me.”

You had made it down to the platform as a train pulled up. “Okay, I won’t mention him again.”

Sam loved to poke at you for fun and it was all done from a place of love. You caught up with the man for a little while longer until your stop and you bid him and the subway adieu. It was a short walk to the market where you collected enough blueberries to cover Clint’s thievery before anyone found out.

When you returned to the tower, you delivered the berries to the bar and let Clint know that the crisis was averted. The tower was getting busier and so you decided to head up to your room to get dressed.

Like any Tony Stark party, he delivered. It was magnificent with lots of familiar and new faces gracing the halls and levels of Avengers Tower. Everyone was dressed up and looked incredible. You caught a glimpse of Peter Parker in the crowd who was taking everything in. Wong managed to seek you out for a short conversation and gave you an apology on Stephen’s behalf for not making it.

After a round through the crowd, you settled at the bar to enjoy a drink with Pepper, Happy and Bruce. Steve was on his way to get some food when he heard your voice.

“I think the kissing tradition on New Years Eve is cute.” Bruce commented.

Happy shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it depends on the person you’re with.”

You set your glass down and pat Happy on the shoulder. “This. See, I think you should only kiss someone on New Years Eve if you’re in love with them or planning to pursue a relationship. What’s the point of kissing if it’s just for fun?”

Pepper laughed as she took a sip. “Don’t knock it until you try it Y/n. There are heaps of strangers here. Why don’t we set you up with one?”

Steve’s stomach flipped at the thought and he entered the conversation circle. “How is everyone doing over here?”

He leaned towards you to pull over a glass and pour himself a drink. You smiled as the rest of the group gave their replies and caught him up to speed on their last topic.

“What do you think Cap?” Happy asked.

“To kiss or not to kiss?” Bruce chimed in with a chuckle.

Steve paused for a few seconds as he thought up a response. “I like romance. I’d imagine each kiss to be special and tell a story.” Steve’s eyes landed on you. “Actually that’s why I wanted to speak to you. I-”

Suddenly, Tony interrupted the group with his presence and a holopad that was flashing red. “Oh boy, we have a major problem.” He said and showed them a newspaper article. “Vibranium was stolen in transit to Wakanda. We need a lock on their trail before it runs cold. Pun intended since the route was in Iceland.”

Happy sighed. “Wow, they picked a hell of a time to strike so close to midnight.”

Steve jumped into Captain America mode almost immediately, shoulders straightened and brow-furrowed. “I can be ready and take the quinjet in ten.”

Bruce set his glass down. “Want me to come with you?”

“Thanks Bruce. But if it’s a simple tailing job, I’ve got it covered. Besides, you should enjoy the night, you’ve earned it.”

Suddenly, the crowd began making their way to the terrace, Thor amidst them when he spotted his friends and called out from the sea of heads.

“Come, my friends. We are about to watch the sky fire!”

Tony unbuttoned his suit jacket with a flare, “It’s my time to shine.” He walked over to Pepper and stretched out his arm for her to take before striding out onto the balcony. Bruce found Natasha and followed her out while Happy caught a glimpse of Peter’s aunt in the crowd and also head in that direction. 

You looked at Steve and he seemed a little disheartened. “I’ve been trying to catch you all day and now-”

You placed a hand over his arm and gave a kind rub. “Hey, it’s okay. If it’s not important, it can wait until you’re back. I’ll still be here.” Hearing your name being called outside, you stepped away from the man. “I should go. Can’t miss Tony’s wondrous display.”

Leaving Steve behind for his mission, you joined the Asgardian in the middle of the crowd. He was telling stories about how he and Loki would steal fireworks from each festival and light them up on the bifrost for the people of the lower towns. “...I think our Father knew.”

In the next few minutes, Jane Foster appeared at Thor’s side and exchanged pleasantries until the crowd began to hush and stir as they looked to the sky. Tony’s drones took to the sky in marvellous fashion before they shaped themselves into the countdown numbers.

…5, 4, 3, 2, 1!

The crowd cheered, some even coming from the streets as they watched the pyrotechnics come to life. As fireworks rose and lit up the sky, you felt a kind of magical buzz, lucky to be where you stood.

It was a beautiful sight and you looked at the surrounding crowd. Lips were locking all around and you felt your stomach twist as the feeling of being alone began to settle. It normally never bothered you but this environment felt different. While everyone was distracted, you snaked between the bodies to return inside.

As you crossed the seating arrangement with every intention to call it a night, you barrelled into a very combat-suited Steve. Shouldn’t he be halfway across the sea?

“What are you still doing here? I thought you left for Iceland.”

Steve’s eyes were fixed on you, the gentle twinkle of fireworks reflecting in his blue irises. It was like he was staring into the heart of a jewelled cave - completely mesmerised.

“It’s important.” He said closing the space between you. A hand setting against your waist, Steve leaned forward. His lips ghosting against yours as your eyes closed. “You’re important.”

It was though fireworks were being set off in your body when he pressed his lips against yours. All you could feel was magic, heat, love and you just wanted to melt against him. His warmth, his touch, if you were in a private space you were sure things would have heated up far quickly. Little did you know, Steve was feeling the exact same.

Pulling away reluctantly, Steve rest his head against yours and smiled. “A part of me wishes that I could stay.”

Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath. “Me too.”

The door from the terrace opened. Tony had walked in to refill his glass and wandered about the bar for a suitable drink when he overheard. The rest of the team also came inside for a break from the party.

“Then why don’t you just go with him?” Tony suggested. “There’s no rule saying that you can’t.”

It was such a simple resolve but you remembered that Steve had turned down Bruce’s offer. You looked at the captain silently asking if he’d like the company.

He smiled. “It would be an honour.”

Tony stood to the side with a wine bottle in his hand as he poured another drink for himself and Pepper, quietly watching you and Steve walk away hand-in-hand towards the hanger bay. Clint grabbed himself some water and took a seat on a high chair.

“Don’t you think they’ll need some back up if vibranium is in play?” He wondered.

Tony nodded, closing the bottle and sipping his drink. “Of course, if the mission was real.”

Thor threw back the last of his Asgardian mead and set his cup on the table (he was learning that the Asgardian custom to break the instrument was frowned upon). “You mean to say that you fabricated a story to…”

“To stop our two closest friends from more pining? You bet I did. God it was giving me whiplash.” Tony confessed. Then he pointed to each member present. “And now you know the truth, you’re all accomplices to the crime.”

Masterlist here

[saintmeghanmarkle]

when the time comes do you think meg will let the divorce happen in UK court or she'll push it to be held in california court? harold seems already having a family divorce lawyer right here not sure he has enough money to hire her tho by u/LocksmithFar9486

when the time comes, do you think meg will let the divorce happen in UK court or she'll push it to be held in california court? harold seems already having a family divorce lawyer right here💅🏻 not sure he has enough money to hire her tho🤭

https://ift.tt/DUKCeyo post link: https://ift.tt/bKh6se9 author: LocksmithFar9486 submitted: June 10, 2024 at 08:56AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[farmhouseanon]

Oh, but was Jared REALLY in Venice with Gen? Come on, let's do the math here shall we?

June 6, 2024 Gen created this post of them in Paris, published around 6pm EST (18:00:07 to be exact), which means it was posted around 12pm in Paris.

June 6 or 7 One of these days is likely when they left Paris for Italy.

June 8, 2024 Jared was spotted here with a fan in Cinque Terre, Italy. Not sure when the Tiktok post was created but the Tumblr post here was made around 3:12pm EST or 9:12pm in Cinque Terre with the photo obviously being taken during the day

June 9 Jared was spotted here with a fan in Portofino, Italy per that post, published around 11:56am EST (11:56:49 to be exact), or 5:56pm in Portofino.

June 10 Gen created this post of her and the kids in Venice, Italy, published around 6:40pm EST (18:40:25 to be exact). Looks like quite the busy and fun eventful day here, doesn't it?

June 11, 2024 We see per the paparazzi appointment here with Gen and Jared they are dining here for lunch in Portofino, Italy. Yeah for those of you who don't read, the website clearly states on the bottom: "Click through the gallery for 40+ pictures of Jared and Genevieve Padalecki in Portofino…" this website article was published 6/11/2024 at 9:35pm EST.

Gen created this post here of being in Venice, Italy around 7:55pm EST (19:55:18 to be exact). This post notably has a video taken at night of a flooded street, as well as photos and videos taken during the daytime.

... but were they together all along, though? As you can see in the maps above, it is almost a 5 hour drive from Portofino to Venice. Same thing if you go from Cinque Terre to Venice but is only about 1 hour and 20 min from Cinque Terre to Portofino. The post made from Portofino on the 9th was created around 11:56pm EST. The post on June 10 was created around 6:40pm EST and was certainly a busy day.

Now, for those who have traveled in another country sightseeing there's probably some kind of itinerary you follow right? Making it so you travel to different cities but following a certain direction going from West to East, North to South, etc. Tell me, why on Earth would they ALL go from Portofino possibly around midday or so on the 9th, spend almost 5 hours driving to Venice, spend a day and a half in Venice, then drive all the way back to Portofino early in the morning on time for a lunch date accompanied the paparazzi?

Now if you'd like the itinerary for the 2021 trip in Italy from her Nowandgen blog, which doesn't seem to be quite in order and no dates given of where they were and when but Google maps shows the trail looks something like this. It's possible they flew from Venice to Rome or took a bus or something given the long distance between those 2 cities, since no real itinerary was given. Point is... you see the trail and have an idea of the likely order they visited the actual cities and landmarks for this trip. Now go look at the info for this 2024 trip again and tell me you can say with 100% confidence they were together this entire trip.

[lovekz]

betrayal

syn -> your boyfriend gets an idea and decides he wants to take his family out for a day. of course, it backfires on him entirely.

modern!hakkai shiba x fem!reader

nothing to beware of.. just some playful making fun of hakkai

tales of hakkai’s fat foot

[10:31am] hakkai : guys omg [10:31am] hakkai : guess what

[10:33am] yuzuha : did you break something again?

[10:34am] taiju : hakkai i really cannot continue to cover for you

[10:36am] hakkai : omg i didn’t even break anything this time. [10:37am] hakkai : i just wanted to let you guys know [10:37am] hakkai : i got four tickets to the super mario bros movie

[10;37am] yuzuha : omg shut up

[10:38am] hakkai : i was just being nice?? [10:39am] hakkai : i’ll just take mitsuya’s sisters then.

[10:39am] taiju : no the fuck you’re not. [10:39am] taiju :what time is it?

[10:41am] hakkai : hooray! [10:41am] hakkai : it’s at 3:45 this afternoon

[10:42am] yuzuha : but don’t you have work taiju?

[10:44am] taiju : i also have a movie to watch with my younger siblings so [10:44am] taiju : i think work can wait

[10:45am] hakkai and yuzuha loved taiju’s message

[10:45am] yuzuha : okay, i’ll come meet you

[10:46am] taiju : who is the fourth for?

[10:47am] hakkai : you think i’m going anywhere w/o my gf?? [10:47am] hakkai : shes family too yk >:(

[10:49am] taiju : was just clarifying [10:49am] taiju : don’t break the doorknob over it again

[10:50am] hakkai : that [10:50am] hakkai : was an accident

[10:51am] yuzuha : like you?? [10:51am] yuzuha : can’t wait to see my sis in law though!

[10:53am] taiju : i’m so glad there’s someone to help his clumsy ass now [10:53am] taiju : another year of it, and i might’ve died [10:53am] taiju : again

[10:56am] hakkai : i’m literally sobbing can you guys stop

[10:57am] yuzuha : what is this? last child syndrome?

~

you had met your boyfriend and his older siblings at their house. they were all waiting outside dressed comfortably.

“i’m not late am i?” you asked, smiling at the siblings as you approached.

“not at all.” taiju reassured with a quick check of the gold watch on his wrist, sparring you a hug.

you hugged him back, before letting go and hugging yuzuha.

“yeah yeah. let’s go.” hakkai huffed, climbing into the driver’s seat of his car.

he was the one that had offered to drive, since he had offered to take them out to the movies.

the shibas were big fans of the super mario bros since they were younger, and you understood why they wanted to watch the movie.

taiju climbed into the front seat after arguing over you sitting in the front.

you insisted sitting in the back as taiju was much bigger than you, and you’d rather him be comfortable.

you also felt like he argued because he didn’t want to sit next to hakkai as, well..

the younger male gets pretty vocal and touchy when music is on in his car, especially his favorite songs.

no one wants to be a victim of that.

“did you get the snacks kai?” yuzuha asked, tilting up from behind his seat.

hakkai merely let out a ‘mhm’ as he continued driving, a smile present on his face.

the smile was on his face the entire time he had drove. the entire two hours.

“is it me? or have we been driving forever?” yuzuha questioned, looking up from her phone that was hooked up to the car.

you checked the time and seen that you had indeed been driving forever.

you had left around 12:27 in the afternoon, and it was now 2:49.

now that yuzuha got taiju’s attention, he took a look at their surroundings and squinted at the male next to him.

who was snickering.

“hakkai where are we going.” taiju demanded, rubbing at the middle of his furrowed brows.

“super mario bros.” hakkai replied, snickering even louder than before.

if hakkai was laughing, he probably wasn’t being serious about what he was saying at all.

which led you all to the point you were at now.

going through hakkai’s phone.

“strawberry shortcake near me. sibling activities. ingrown toenail. mitsuya takashi clothing line. are there really hot milfs near me.” taiju listed off, raising his eyebrow at each search.

you slapped hakkai’s shoulder hard at the last search mention.

“how to prove i am not a homosexual. hakkai shiba girlfriend. hakkai shiba beach-” “can we not?!” hakkai questioned loudly, cutting his brother off.

hakkai was a flush red, eyes frantic as he looked at the road and his brother.

taiju shot him a look, about to continuing listing off the most ridiculous things in his search history.

however, the car came to a stop and hakkai snatched his phone from taiju’s hand, stuffing it in his pocket.

“we have arrived at out destination.” hakkai mimicked the gps, gesturing to the mall that stood before you.

everyone, save for hakkai, looked out the window to their right and raised their eyebrow in confusion.

sure, everyone has been to this mall at least once or twice before, but everyone knows they don’t have a movie theater inside of it.

nonetheless, you piled out of hakkai’s vehicle and made your way inside.

hakkai led the way since he was the only person that had actually knew where he was going. for once in his life.

“we’re gonna miss the movie.” you stated, looking at the time on your phone.

it was 3:47, and if you don’t find the movie theater and get your slushie in time, you might actually miss the first part.

and probably lose your good seats, if hakkai even bothered to book good seats.

after a bit of silence and a lot of twist and turns, hakkai stopped in his tracks with a huge, mischievous grin on his face.

“we’re here.” he cooed quietly, gesturing to the place he was standing in front of.

the three of you looked at the sign and squinted in confusion. the sign had read ‘all out warzone’ with a picture of a little grenade.

“uhm. where’s the movie theater.” yuzuha questioned, holding back the sigh that was deep in her throat.

she already knew the answer.

there was no movie theater in the first place. it was a trap.

to probably get taiju outside.

~

when the four of you got in, it was revealed that the place hakkai had taken you to was a glow in the dark nerf gun place.

 he forced you guys to split into two teams, girls vs boys.

taiju protested, not wanting to be on hakkai’s team because apparently, hakkai sucks in everything he does.

which is true, if you remove the fact that he could successfully come up with a good plan.

could he execute it properly though? hell no.

but that didn’t matter.

you and yuzuha took your shoes off and switched into the places socks that they provided.

“if we’re gonna win, we have to take taiju out first.” yuzuha stated, strapping the bag of nerf bullets on her.

she had tied her hair up into a high ponytail and took off her hoodie, really getting into this.

you nodded, doing the same and beginning to load up the black and gold gun yuzuha had advised you to pick up.

“problem is, he’s used to getting hit everywhere.” you groaned, looking at yuzuha for just a bit.

yuzuha nodded, remembering her brothers’ days of being delinquents and constantly getting injured.

“which is why we have to get him in his ear. or his lower back, a bit above his butt.” yuzuha chuckled, pushing the jammed bullet out of the gun.

you giggled quietly at yuzuha’s odd statement. but you could only assume it was because she knew her older brother.

after they’d fixed their bond, they always playfully wrestled with each other.

easiest way to find each other’s weak points, and the most effective way to make them more stronger.

your phone buzzed, making you look down at it.

[4:03pm] kai kai <3 : hey are you guys ready yet? [4:03pm] kai kai <3 : me n taiju are getting bored.

“we ready?” you asked yuzuha with a grin, cocking your nerf gun to get it ready to start firing.

“oh you know i am.” yuzuha chuckled, stretching and cracking her knuckles.

you just know the parents and their kids were walking past with worried looks.

some were already rushing their children out of the arena.

~

“that’s cheating.” yuzuha yelled out, attempting to wrestle her gun out of taiju’s hands with a loud laugh.

in the start of their war, yuzuha began to spray nerf bullets at her older brother without giving him time to think.

so naturally, he shoved her gun downwards and began to shoot her ruthlessly.

“it’s not cheating if there’s no rules!” taiju taunted, shooting the smaller girl in her thigh repeatedly.

you stood on top one of the towers that were build for scoping and ducking, aiming your gun at taiju.

while he was busy with yuzuha and wrestling her for her gun, it gave you the right opportunity.

you began to spray your gun, letting three bullets get him on the shell of his ear and another six to his back.

almost immediately after, you felt two bullets hit you in the side of your face, pulling your attention away from the elder shibas.

you turned to your left and looked into the other building.

hakkai was squatting inside, winking at you with a little cheeky grin.

the grin didn’t last long, however, as yuzuha began to ruthlessly shoot hakkai wherever she could see.

which just so happened to be in his face.

hakkai (dramatically) rolled down the hill with a loud groan, holding his face in false pain.

“you okay teammate?!” yuzuha yelled out over the music, looking up at you from the floor.

“i’m okay! is taiju okay?!” you yelled back, still seeing the male doubled over near one of the ledges.

taiju waved his hand a bit, gesturing that he was just fine and if not, he will be fine in a few seconds or so.

for another hour or two, you guys ran around shooting each other and doing the nerf activities laid out for you.

when it was revealed that you only had 5 more minutes left, taiju pulled you and yuzuha to the side.

“you know, hakkai really fucked us over earlier when he tricked us.” taiju mentioned, leaning against the wall.

you and yuzuha both nodded in agreement.

as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were really looking forward to watching the movie with your in-laws.

“so how about we get him back for it.” taiju suggested with a smug look, looking at the nerf gun in his hands.

you knew what he was getting at.

hakkai was in hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike at you or yuzuha.

he had no idea what was going on, and was waiting for someone to come into view so he can shoot.

“hakkai!” yuzuha called out loud enough for them to hear, finally finding the youngest shiba in his hiding spot.

she had to admit, it was pretty fucking good for how tall and skinny he was.

hakkai turned and got ready to shoot at yuzuha.

however, he never got to as taiju snatched the gun away from him and tossed it a few feet away.

“bro we’re on the same team.” hakkai complained loudly, rubbing his forehead in fake annoyance.

“and you promised the new super smash bro’s movie today.” taiju snapped back, crossing his arms.

hakkai rolled his eyes and went to grab his gun, ignoring taiju’s nth comment about not watching the movie.

you kicked it away even further, sighing and shaking your head in disappointment at your boyfriend.

“any last words?” you asked, tilting your head as the three of you cocked your guns at the same time.

“how dare you betray me?!” hakkai yelled out, backing into the wall.

safe to say, after the three of you ‘jumped’ hakkai with nerf bullets and soft fists, you were banned from all out warzone.

and hakkai had to take the three of you to see the super smash bro’s movie.

you never heard the end of your ‘betrayal towards your amazing, loving, and caring boyfriend’ for months.

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

I'd wait for life

I'd wait for life https://ift.tt/0YH94Nn by everlastingcastiel Cas had been gone for 5 days when Dean had a random thought, “did you ever tell Cas you loved him?” Dean suddenly had a horrible thought, was Cas ever told he was loved? Words: 3596, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Sam Winchester, Claire Novak, Jack Kline Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Love Confessions, Post-Finale, Grieving Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Castiel Deserves to be Loved (Supernatural) via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/K04ZSzx October 20, 2024 at 10:56AM