#I didn’t sleep last night and just worked on this woops

[hollytree33]

Hi so I might’ve made a painting of my Inquisitor while trying to mimic Solas’s style so I can pretend he made it

[ssa-dado]

0 - Symposium, definitely not Platonic love.

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader (I hope I tagged it correctly woops)

No use of Y/N!

Summary: Hotch, after seeing you reading a book on the jet, picks it up out of curiosity. Late-night texts with you evolve from work to teasing philosophical banter about love, deepening your connection. Through this dialogue, Hotch reflects on both philosophy and his feelings for you, as the conversation subtly flirts with deeper emotions.

Genre: fluff, sapiosexual fluff.

Warnings: Implied alcohol consumption ; Reader and Hotch being completely blind yet marvellously insightful ; Philosophical discussions, I tried my best to make them as user friendly as possible ; Sir kink if you squint, although it's not intended in that way at all ; The story is set around season 3/4 before the team found out about Strauss' drinking problem, I feel so bad anyways.

Word Count: 2.9k

Dado's Corner: be kind this is my first ever Hotch fic and overall first fic I've written in English (yes, I indeed am a real Italian stallion) so there might be some mistakes, bear with me.

next part - set when they first ever met.

Hotch sits on the couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows across his living room, the house is so quiet, he briefly interrupts his late night reading session as he swears he can almost hear Jack’s light breathing from across the house. Those sweet thoughts, mixed up with the muffled night traffic almost lullabies him to sleep while the weight of another long week at the BAU settles into his bones.

His eyes immediately gaze down to his hands, firming holding opened the slim book: Symposium by Plato—a book he wouldn’t normally pick up on his own. The corners of his mouth quickly turn up as he recalls how he’d seen you reading it on the jet a few cases ago, sitting cozily and crossing your legs alone in a seat in front of him, strategically shielded from the table seats occupied by playing the rest of the team, including himself, busingly playing cards.

Every now and then his gaze automatically lingered on your stillness, the only movements coming from the swift air you moved while turning the page or adjusting your pose to be more comfortable, this sight intoxicated him. Your focus was so intense you didn’t even flinch at Derek standing up from his seat and leaning forward, while his hands gravitated towards the doctor’s bare neck after the latter just killed him off the game because oblivious of yet another variation they all added so it would make it easier to beat Reid. An attempt that ended tragically.

In that abrupt mess - from JJ laughing at the ironic hilarity to Reid using the highest-pitched voice his vocal chords could ever produce to defend himself from Derek's accusation of cheating - Hotch only remembers how your statuesque figure slowly had revived itself again as you glanced up to make sure no harm was done to the doctor. You made eye contact with Hotch and and you immersed yourself back to the slim book as soon the Unit Chief signed you not to worry and that he would tackle the situation himself. In a matter of fractions of seconds all your surroundings had disappeared again.

As soon as the Unit Chief was back into his office, curiously reminiscing about your hypnotic serenity, he’d ordered a copy.

Now, as in the comfort of his living room slowly turns the pages, his phone vibrates with a message from you awakening him from his trance, immediately wonders why you would message him so late at night.

“Hotch, quick question: about the profile for the Winger case—should we revise the victimology section?"

…Of course, he almost started to hate how his role as Unit Chief always seemed to ruin his brief-lasting delusions.

He robotically types a response, a straightforward answer to your work-related question but as he presses send, his gaze lingers on the book in his hands. There’s somehow a temptation on his side to share the weird coincidence, to see how you might react.

"Good catch. I’ll review it tomorrow.” He writes.

“Wow that was quick, I didn’t expect you to still be up, did I interrupt your late night reading session?”

He quicky blushes, how could you know him so well?!

“You did. Don’t worry about it. By the way, I’m reading Symposium tonight." He blurts out

There’s a pause, and he can visualize your surprised reaction, how the sight of your smile would always warm his heart; almost immediately, his phone buzzes again.

"Wait, really, Symposium?!”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He wouldn’t smile so much if you were standing in front of him, thankfully, the shield of communicating through texts allowed him to put down his.

You continue. “Not to raise your expectations too much, but that’s my all-time favorite book, just so you know!"

He swears he can hear the intonation of your voice reading that text, visualizing how you would face your palms towards him and raise your shoulders, trying to keep that non-chalant expression of yours and not perk a soft smile to him.

Entitled by that fateful coincidence, Hotch feels brave enough to decide to tease you - just a little - hoping the text doesn't sound that much so out of character for him as much as it does in his head, although he shrugs, sending it before he starts overthinking it.

“Your all-time favorite? A book about love? I should’ve known."

He pauses, imagining you raising an eyebrow, maybe with that knowing smile you wear when he’s teasing you. And even though he’s playing it off as a joke, part of him can completely see how you, could actually have a natural flare for romance - even if you never openly admit it and always tried the best you could to suppress that side of yours.

He decides to blame it on the years spent at the BAU when it was just the two of you along with Rossi and Gideon; At how you were recruited as soon as you turned 21, while the youngest person you worked with on the team and could relate to the most was Hotch himself, even if he was late in his Jesus year.

He quickly remembers how you would always overwork yourself - you both still do nowadays, that's why you're having a conversation at past 2 AM - He could see how you were always trying to prove your worth more to yourself rather than to your co-workers or even to the sketchy police officers and detectives somehow still stuck in the 1400s.

He had always admired you for your intelligence and acute instincts, and so does your nowadays team, immediately entrusting you with the nickname of "Prehistoric Reid" only because because you had started working at the BAU back when they still didn't provide the jet so you all had to move using the trains. Even if you already have 9 years of experience in the field, yet you were the 2nd youngest - still no eidetic memory though - this desire to always prove yourself never fully went away. One day you were the youngest, the other they assume someone way more genius than you were so you can't stand out anymore for merely for your intelligence.

You finally respond: "Well, it’s more than just a book about love. It’s actually quite of a concrete example of Plato’s take on philosophy - the whole thing told through dialogues, like a discussion among friends. But I won’t bore you with all the technicalities"

Hotch chuckles softly, picturing you downplaying your passion, trying not to sound too academic. What you don’t know is that he could listen to you talk about philosophy for hours - especially tonight, about philosophy’s take on love, no less. He doesn’t dares to say that, though.

"I wouldn’t say you’re boring me. In fact, I’m starting to see the appeal. But really, all-time favorite?"

He leans back into the couch, waiting for your reply.

You told him back when you first met that your first ever degree was in philosophy, and now recalling that specific information he's been wondering why exactly a barely-reaching-100-pages-long book holds such a special place for you, out of all the others he’s seen you passionately read during the years. A part of him is genuinely curious, the other part is trying to stretch as much as possible this conversation with you.

"Absolutely. I mean, think about it: a bunch of people crashing at their friend's house, sitting around, getting drunk, each giving their take on love while they feast at a banquet." You continued. "It’s almost like when we’re at Rossi’s, except instead of love, we’re all talking about criminology and cases while stuffing ourselves with his Italo-American dishes".

An image of Rossi pouring wine wearing an ancient greek costume - fake long white beard included - while everyone at the table delves into some intricate discussion about a case flashes through his mind, Hotch immediately chuckles at the comparison. He's sure you've imagined the exact thing too and he can almost hear you suggest hosting a real Symposium next time, his profiling skills never fail him as soon his phone buzzes again.

"Imagine if we recreated the Symposium at Rossi’s. Each of us giving our take on love. I can almost hear Reid's speech delving into the psychology of affection and its variations throughout the various cultures"

Quick on his chubby fingers, after laughing at the scenario, he types the continuation "In stark opposite, Garcia would follow him and pull out her tarot cards and read each of our birth charts, telling us who we're most compatible with based on our stars alignements"

While waiting for you, he stands up and makes his way towards his home bar, reaching for the scotch bottle, swiftly filling up his glass, silently blessing Plato for making this the longest light-hearted conversation you haven’t had in years. You were both either too focused on your work or actively suppressing your romantic feelings and ignoring each other. After all this time he would almost forget how the two of you were first and foremost very good friends. As the liquid burns the back of his throat, his phone buzzes again.

"That's actually really fascinating yet so intimidating, what about Rossi though? Of course he's hosting all of us but I feel he would totally blurt out some old-scool stuff he only understands. I know I'm not the only one who doesn't get his references, but I really feel bad whenever I don't."

He almost chokes himself after your other reply

"So, big boss, have I convinced you with giving us the free week-end or should I extend the invite our lovely friend Strauss? I fear that after a few glasses of Rossi’s wine all that angst towards you might turn into some ol' sweet love. I would watch out if I were you, Unit Chief"

You loved poking fun at him using his rank; It all started a few years ago to jokingly shrug away the awkwardness caused from how the co-worker you always used to joke around, spend the nights together in the same room, sharing your theories about the unsub and building up the profile with suddenly turned into your superior. As much as you both didn't want to admit it, something in your relationship had shifted since this happened, not to mention to the fact that it's much more awkward to admit to your boss you've been having a crush on your him for almost 9 years rather than to your co-worker.

Now Hotch, encouraged by the slight booze, further teases you "And what do you think my take on love would be?"

This was the closest he could ever come to flirting with you, walking on that fine line and never pushing himself further. For Hotch, the gesture of basically asking you to profile him in a moment in which he was so vulnerable, breaking his golden rule of "never profile your coworkers" was the most romantic declaration of love he could ever think that of.

Your text brings him back down to Earth:

"Hmm, I imagine you’d give a thoughtful, analytical speech something with a lot of depth but surprisingly subtly humorous. You would wait for everyone to finish their own speech so you would be last, acknowledging all of us completely busted, only because you have self-control."

You feel the need to add something else, even if you know already he would read into it, at the way how you reserved a mere sentence to describe that scenario involving your teammates. On the contrary, you could write a whole book about him and all his hypothetical remarks, meticulously poiting out every small gesture or expression - or the lack of - of him. Since truth lies in the middle, you decide to dedicate him only another lengthy paragraph.

"You would start with something along the lines of ‘Love is a complex system of emotional responses influenced by myriad factors…’ as if you were delivering a profile, definitely using that same tone as well. You’d probably have us all analyzing every possible nuance and you enjoy watching us slobber, trying to quickly sober up to keep up with your impeccable remarks. Of course we would miserably fail at being analytical whatsoever, but you love whenever we make a fool out of ourselves."

He chuckles "You do know me too well"

He probably hints at the possibilty of having a weekend off with his next text "And since now you're making me think I might have to start prepare my speech about love, it wouldn't hurt to also include a few practical applications for the BAU team’s dynamics."

Ha. You wish he showed you what those practical applications consisted of. Hotch although interrupts even the possibility of recycling this genius quick witted remark with him, making sure to replace yourself with his archenemy section chief Erin Strauss, to not weird him out.

"Jokes apart, your take on love would be fascinating, I'm looking forward to hear it", he says.

"Only if you’re ready for philosophical debates after a few glasses of wine. Though, I’ll warn you - I take my Plato very seriously."

Hotch smiles at that, apparently he took his Plato quite seriously as well. What you're not aware at all is that the late-night session of Symposium you had interrupted wasn't his first.

"I’ll keep that in mind. But honestly, I’ve been finding parts of it… enlightening."

He had actually finished it for the first time less than a hour before you texted. What you actually interrupted was Hotch helplessly going back through certain passages that reminded him of you. He hypothesises your take on the subject of love, trying to gauge how you view it without revealing feelings he’s kept carefully hidden for a long time.

"Enlightening, huh? So you’ve gotten to the part where Socrates explains how love makes us better people?"

Hotch remembers that part well enough, but he hasn’t revealed just how deeply he’s been thinking about it - how, in his own quiet way, he’s been trying to connect those ideas to his life, and to you, so he chooses his next words carefully.

“Not yet." He lies, knowing that the part you appointed to would only come much later in the book "But I’m guessing you’ve got some thoughts on that?"

He imagines you smiling on the other end, maybe a little amused at how he’s obviously deflecting, although you don’t press him, but your next reply doesn't lack a subtle challenge.

"I do. But I think you'd find it pretty relevant, Hotch. Phaedrus talks about how lovers fight better together - how love gives them courage."

He quickly smirks and reminds himself how much he loves when you put him in the corner with the choice of your words, there was no way he could deflect that, since Phaedrus’s speech comes first, he couldn't say he hadn't read that yet.

Hotch's eyes flicker toward the book again, remembering Phaedrus’s discourse: the idea that love could make people fight harder, be stronger… it strikes a chord, reminding him of the strength he’s seen in you, in the unique way you both handle the intense challenges of your work when paired up together. He types, his words more deliberate now.

"Phaedrus might be onto something. Love as a motivator, as a way to push people to be better. What about you? Do you see it that way?"

There’s a slight pause before your next message, and he can almost sense your careful consideration, you’ve never been one to answer these kinds of questions lightly.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, love isn’t just about being close to someone, it’s about making each other better, pushing each other forward. But that is not easy at all. It takes patience, discipline… and maybe a bit of faith."

Hotch’s expression softens as he reads your words. He admires your thoughtfulness, your ability to cut straight to the heart of something that most people shy away from. He finds himself thinking about how true those words are, how they seem to apply not only to love, but to the way both of you approach life and work. He types slowly, his words carefully chosen.

"Patience, discipline, and faith. Sounds a lot like what we do every day, maybe we’re already living it."

As he sends the message, he sets the phone down beside him and glances at the book again. He’s aware of the irony - that for all the deflecting, all the jokes, he’s learning more about you through this conversation than he would have if he had simply asked.

The words of Plato, the discussions on love, seem to take on a new meaning - one that feels personal, one that makes him wonder if he’s been missing something between the lines all along.

"You know, this conversation feels a bit like Socratic dialogue. Just without the wine. Maybe I’m learning about love through you and Plato’s dialogues in a way Socrates might’ve appreciated."

He sends the message, a small smirk on his face. He knows how much you would appreciate the unexpected extra philosophical remark about Socrates even if he knows little to nothing about him apart from that his idea of love in Plato's book. To impress you he totally forgets how only just a few moments before he stated he hasn’t read his discourse yet. A few moments later, your reply comes through.

“No way! Aaron Hotchner now delves into the Socratic dialectics?!"

Now you smell the lie so to make sure you trick him with the next text "Well, maybe you should read something by Socrates next, he was quite the conversationalist, you would rely a lot to him, especially after all of this philosophical banter"

"Any recommendations?" He naively takes the bait

"That’s the thing, Unit Chief - Socrates didn’t write anything. He relied on his students to record his thoughts. It’s all oral and dialectical. The dialogues are his legacy, not written works, maybe that’s why it’s such a rich experience—like having an ongoing conversation with someone through the ages."

Hotch leans back, wishing these moments would linger forever, hoping the words you exchanged could be eternal just like those exchanged by the men he was reading about, now printed with black ink on the paper resting in his hands. He's surprised he doesn’t feel the tiredness of the week anymore or neither the need to sleep. Damn, he has so much energy he's sure he could run a whole marathon, but only if you’re out there watching him.

"Well, if our conversations end up like Plato’s dialogues, I think I’m in for a rewarding challenge. Just don’t make me drink too much wine before our next discussion."

"Unit Chief I thought you had self-control and didn't need to be babied like us mortals"

His phone buzzes with another message from you.

“Sorry if I ask, I’m curious - what got you interested in Symposium all of a sudden? I didn’t think philosophy was your usual reading material."

Hotch takes a moment to think, considering how to respond without revealing too much.

"You know, it’s funny. I saw you reading it a while back and it piqued my interest. I guess I wanted to see what you found so engaging about it. And honestly, I’m finding it pretty compelling - there’s a lot more depth to it than I expected."

His cheeks turn into a light shade of pink at your last response. "Unit Chief, do you believe you might need some professional insights on that speech you needed so urgently to write?"

"I definitely might need a hand - if I'm not wrong you do have a philosophy degree, don't you?"

Symposium might just become Aaron Hotchner's all-time-favourite book as well, after all.

[imnotasuperhero]

Look into my eyes (search your soul)

Wanda maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your love for Wanda could make you go the distance and more, just to see her happy. 

A/N: PART 3 IS HERE! WOOP WOOP!!

This one was... special? Idk. I felt like it was time to deep into the story since next part was planned to be the last one, but knowing me, this series will extend lmao. Truth be told, I have no ways to explain this, just wanted to play a little with the hearts out there readibg this (an mine too). There’s a little part suggesting fun times, tho it’s nothing hard, so I’ll bold it so you can skip it if you want.Anyways, enjoy!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX

“Wanda!”

The redhead stopped her task at hand and held onto the crumpled shirt tightly.

“What happened?” She asked with fear.

“We’re going home!!” Wanda grunted as her whole body relaxed at your words. She could barely hide the smile wanting to appear at the toothy grin you gave her.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” she faked annoyance while closing the zip of her duffel bag before walking towards her sleeping babies. “But wait,” she looked around the room, confused. “We need their-”

“I’ve got everything planned,” she heard your voice behind her and froze in place when she felt your arms locking around her waist as you placed a kiss on her head.

But before she could start to wander into the forming thought, you moved away. “I’ll go get them.”

You fasted your pace, leaving a mumbling Wanda behind.

‘Just tell her already. I can’t be more idiotic’ you reprimanded yourself for such action. Natasha’s words started to replay in your mind over and over.

Once you reached your car, you allowed yourself to lean against the door and breathe. ‘She’s not mine.’ You repeated once again. No matter how bad you wanted for her to be, she had her family and you weren’t part of it.

Gathering the courage to fake your feelings, you tightened your grip on the babies’ car seats and walked to the new family waiting for their ride home.

The ride to Wanda’s home was… calm. At least outside your mind.

“You make it seem so easy,” Wanda woed, seeing you take the babies off the car.

“I had a bit of experience,” you shrugged at her words, trying not to focus on the burning on your back.

“Let me help,” Wanda extended one arm, intending to grab one of the twins’ seats.

“Nope,” you swiftly moved Tommy away from her reach. “You can’t force yourself, Wanda.” You walked past her, carefully placing the babies on the floor before you looked for the door keys Wanda gave you in case of emergencies. 

You didn’t know why you kept torturing yourself.  You could easily busy yourself with your own life… God knows your job wasn't easy peasy most of the time and the projects required time. And taking care of two newborns… wasn't really smart.

You weren't even related to them.

But these past days only served for you to fall in love with those little humans. 

Every moment you tended to them, you couldn’t help your heart growing ten times. The way they looked at you when you softly spoke to them filled your inside with something warm and cozy.

Every second you held them against your chest while you lulled them to sleep was… their warm breaths against your skin was something you never wished to experience, but now you didn’t want it any other way. And now…

Now you understood what people meant when they said babies could melt the coldest heart.

But before you could dwell too deep into the stormy feelings inside you, Natasha’s words played loud enough.

“She has her husband. She doesn’t need you.”

Standing up from your working table, you marched towards the bathroom at the time you sent a text to the redhead. 

‘I’m in. Pick me up in an hour.’

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you nodded approvingly before walking outside. Maybe tonight would be a night to remember. Or not.

Stepping into the club, you giggled at Natasha’s hand holding yours to guide you through the bodies flooding the dancefloor.

“There she is!” Bucky walked happily towards you, picking you up in the air. “About time you showed up.”

Giggling, you fidget in his arms until you felt the floor under your feet. “Working the big leagues is not easy job,” you shrugged before hugging each of your friends.

“Oh yeah. I’ve heard Mr. Peters can be a pain in the ass.” Steve commented sipping his beer.

Accepting the offered drink, you thanked the redhead before taking a sip. “He’s one of the worst clients I’ve had so far.” You grunted, leaning against the wall a few meters away from the sweaty bodies. “He even requested for an on-scale plant floor.”

“Wait. An actual scale model? With small furniture and details and-”

“Yep,” you cut the brunette, sipping from your drink once again.

“Enough of adult life,” Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by the busy life of her friends. “I say we enjoy tonight and forget about our duties.” Nat started to dance dangerously close to you.

“Imma need more alcohol for this,” you spoke loudly in her ear. “Lead the way, I’ll meet you there,” you breathed deeply at the sensation taking over you.

And true to your words, you swallowed a shot before you walked to the group with a brand new drink in hand that was taken away by a tall blonde.

Giggling, you turned to Natasha as the redhead swayed her hips against yours and before you could react, your hands found her hips, following her movements. You deserved to have fun.

After a few, the flowing drinks and the sweaty bodies around you intoxicated the air you breathed and what started with a playful dance with Natasha became something that only heated you up the more you moved against her.

Turning around, Natasha stood up accepting the drink Maria offered. “You know,” the redhead leaned against you, practically shouting in your ear over the loud music. “I didn’t tell you, but you look good tonight.” 

“Why don’t you do something about it?” You surprised yourself saying, holding your breath as those green eyes widened at your words.

Before you could fix your slip, the straight line on Natasha’s lips turned into a smirk.

“Your place or mine?”

Looking at those glistening eyes under you, you scolded yourself for thinking they weren’t the right shade of green you craved for. And before you could get lost in your mind, you leaned down to kiss an expecting Natasha, smirking when your thigh hit her in the right spot, making her moan deeply in your mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” you vowed before you started to travel down, rediscovering her body once again, like a sailor that finally reached his port after a long time away.

And even though you knew she wasn’t her, you made love to the redhead in your bed. You made sure she was well taken care of, for a woman like her deserved only the best.

And your hips stopped dancing against hers only when you knew Natasha had come down from her high, looking deeply into her eyes.

“You never cease to impress me,” the redhead winked at you, laughing alongside you.

“What can I say? It’s all about the confidence,” you leaned down to kiss her one last time before you plopped beside her, placing your head on your propped arm, admiring her features. “I mean it,”

Frowning, Natasha turned her body to have a better look at you. “What?”

“You’re beautiful,” you shrugged, taking the lock that fell on her face, placing it softly behind her ear.

“Don’t let Wanda hear you,” she smirked at your grunt.

“Why,” you hid your face in your pillow, regretting your words.

“Lyubov,” your body shrugged at the finger drawing patterns on your naked body, and you allowed yourself to enjoy it. “What you both have it’s not healthy.”

Turning your face to the side, you just sighed.

“There’s nothing between us, Nat.” You closed your eyes at the soothing feeling on your lower back, going all the way up and down again.

“It’s not what your heart thinks,” she pointed.

Sighing, you sat up, not caring Natasha could see your naked chest.

“It’s not easy. You should know about it.”

“No.” The redhead stopped you, imitating your stance. “What Maria and I have it’s different.”

“Is it?” You scrunched your nose, thinking of the looks both women gave each other during the night.

“Okay, maybe we can work it out. But you, my friend…” Natasha stood up and walked towards the bathroom, letting you admire her naked body, which you happily enjoyed. “You really need to make up your mind,” the redhead spoke from behind the door.

You knew she was right. Your heart wasn’t made of iron, and the cracks were already starting to show. Maybe it was time for you to let her go. Maybe it was best if you helped her as a babysitter from time to time and nothing else. After all, she had her family waiting for her after a long day while you had... nothing.

The collision of a t-shirt against your head brought you back to place, frowning at Natasha, who now sported one of your baggy shirts, getting into bed.

Silently following her unspoken indication, you put on clean panties and hurriedly threw the shirt over your head, joining her in the warmth your bed provided.

“Ease your mind?” Natasha opened her arms, signaling you to snuggle against her. “There’ll be time for that tomorrow.” She kissed your head before tightening her hold.

Letting your body give up to the warmth involving you, you placed your arm over Natasha’s stomach, hugging her. “Thank you.”

But before she could answer, her phone started ringing.

Answering the call, she looked at you with one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows up. “It’s for you.”

Timidly taking the phone, you spoke to the other end of the line.

“Y/N,” your body froze at the voice.

“What’s wrong?” You sat up in bed, looking at an equally worried Natasha.

“Please, come home?” The pain in her voice was enough to get you on your feet, rushing to reach your pants.

“I’ll be there in 10.”

Returning the phone to its owner, you rummaged through your closet, finally deciding for sweatpants. 

“You can sleep here,” you kissed Natasha’s forehead.

Sighing, the redhead watched you leave. Always the knight in shining armor.

As always, comments and reblogs are welcomed :)

Taglist: @summergeezburr​ @wandabear​ @red1culous​ @inluvwithfictionalwomen​ @aliherreraaa @kiancorpse​ @whitewidowsbite​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ @daenerys713​ @swiftie1-0-1 @godamnityess​ @marvelwomen-simp​ @forthelesbians​ @when-wolves-howl​ @marvelogic​ (If you wanna be added to the taglist, just let me know! :)

[svtminghaolove]

The proposal - Hip hop unit (SVT)

Hello ~ I’m writing. And now I’m going to go and buy ice cream. Woop woop.

Triggers: Nope

S.Coups: It was like any other morning. Seungcheol had been working late last night, but had told you to sleep at the dorms tonight, so of course you did. He had arrived around three in the morning, sneaking into bed with you and softly apologized for being late. You had sleepily given a response that you right now in the morning couldn't remember.

You, of course, woke up much earlier than the boys in the house and decided to make a grand breakfast, since you knew the boys would be way to lazy to cook after they had such a long day yesterday.

So you started cooking up whatever you had on hand, which collected up to four different dishes and a few already made sides.

"Good morning", you turned your head to see Seungcheol walk up behind you, only wearing a white tea and sweatpants.

"Morning", you hummed as he wrapped his arms around you.

"It's nice to wake up and find you cooking, thank you", he said, placing his chin on your shoulder.

"Yeah, and imagine that you could have this everyday", you teased and flipped the kimchijeon. He let go of my waist with one arm and went quiet for a moment.

"Maybe we should get married.", you laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, maybe we should", you smiled and petted the hand that was resting on your waist. "Is there anything you feel is missing?", you looked at the dishes you had lined up.

"No, y/n.", he held up a simple golden ring in front of you and you gasped. "Maybe we should get married.", you blinked a few times before you turned off the stove and turned to face him.

"Are you serious?", you whispered, afraid that your voice couldn't hold the tears building in your throat.

"Yeah. I think we're ready for this step.", he smiled and held up the ring in between the two of you. "So what do you say, want to get hitched?", you laughed at his statement and nodded.

"Yes. Lets do it!", you smiled through your tears as he put the ring on your finger.

"This ring means that you're mine, just so you know", he said as you pulled him into a hug.

"Yeah, and I'm happy to stay yours", you sniffled and closed your eyes.

"Hey, I smell food", DK stopped in his steps when he saw the two of you. "What's going on?", you looked at Seungcheol and he smiled back at you, before both of you busted out in laugher, hugging each other in front of poor confused DK.

Wonwoo: The two of you had been out all day, running errands and fixing in the apartment. You were both very tired and was getting ready to go to bed.

"You can wash up first", you said and he nodded as you walked to the kitchen to search for the phone you had misplaced. You searched for the phone for about five minutes, before concluding that it wasn't in the kitchen.

"Wonwoo!", you went to the couch to look if you had thrown it there when you came home.

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen my phone? I can't find it", you sighed and moved the pillows out of the way.

"Yeah, it's in the bathroom", the bathroom? You didn't remember going in the bathroom after coming home, but you were tired and a bit out of it so you didn't really think that much about it.

You walked back to the bedroom and into the connected bathroom and found your phone on the sink, but on top of the phone was a small dark blue box. You blinked and lifted the box. It felt light and heavy at the same time, and you just stared at it for a moment before opening it. A little light turned on at the lid of the box, shining down on a beautiful ring. You took a shaking breath and took a step back, just to steady your stance and make sure that you wouldn't fall. You stared at the ring for a few moments before moving out into the bedroom. Wonwoo was sitting at the end of the bed, giving you a soft smile.

"I love you. I know that I don't say that nearly enough, but I really do love you.", he stood up and reached out his hand. "You are the one, and I refuse you let you be the one who got away. Will you please be my wife?", he said as you gave him your hand, the one holding the box.

"What- when did you-", you were kind of in shock to be honest. This had come kind of out of nowhere, but you did love Wonwoo and he was the only person you could imagine spending forever with.

"Yes!", you suddenly said, you weren't even prepared for the shout leaving your lips. He blinked and let out a little laugh as he plucked the box from your hand and proceeded to put the ring on your finger. He pressed a soft kiss to your ring finger and the two of you remained quiet for a little while.

"So, should we go to sleep?", he said and you hit him on the shoulder.

"Are you crazy? Do you think I can fall asleep after this?", you laughed and Wonwoo joined in on it as he lifted you up and threw you on the bed.

Mingyu: You were coming home from a work trip. You had been away for about a week and were so tired. At first your plane had been cancelled so you would take a plane the day after. But then you had been lucky to be put on an earlier plane than planned and was about two hours early back, and you were so ready to just fall asleep in your boyfriends arm tonight. You knew that Mingyu was going to be working late tonight so you didn't really want to bother him to tell him that you would be home earlier than planned. That was the reason that you were stepping out of a taxi right now instead of a friends car.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside.

"I'm home", you said out of habit as you lifted your bag inside but froze at the picture you were seeing. Hoshi and DK were standing on ladders, hanging up fairy lights among the balloons that were floating in the ceiling.

"What are you doing?", you laughed as you looked around the house. White flower petals were scattered on the floor, leading you upstairs to where Mingyu now were peaking down at you.

"You weren't suppose to be home for another two hours!", he accused and at the same time sounded a bit whiny and disappointed.

"My flight time got changed", you smiled as your brain slowly started to put together the puzzle pieces. Mingyu came down the stairs, looking a bit overwhelmed and you noticed how Hoshi and DK slowly walked away to the guest bedroom. And that was when it clicked and you let go of your suitcase.

"Mingyu-"

"It wasn't suppose to be like this. It was suppose to be a surprise and perfect and you would-"

"Mingyu", you interrupted him. "Are you…?", he didn't seem to listen to you.

"I had a whole speech, which I now of course have forgotten and I'm not even done upstairs and-"

"Mingyu!", you laughed and took his face in your hand. "Breathe!", he looked into your eyes and did as you said, visibly collecting himself. He nodded and took one of your hands.

"Well, it isn't perfect or honestly right now, not going according to the plan. But to be honest, it doesn't really matter", he smiled and kissed your palm. "You matter. We matter, and that's all I need.", he slowly went down on one knee, the white petals under him making a soft crushing sound.

"I love you. I want to come home to you every day. I want build a family with you. ", he smiled and picked out a red ring box from his pocket. "I really want to be able to call you my wife.", he opened the box and you laughed through the tears that had begun falling down your cheeks. "Will you? Be my wife?"

"Yes! Yes, of course!", you laughed and let him put the ring on your finger before basically tackling him to the floor with a hug, and kisses pressed all over his face, leaving kiss marks from your lipstick. He laughed and hugged you close, pressing his lips to yours.

Vernon: It was a fall day, the leaves had started to fall from the trees, leaving the ground colored in red, orange and yellow. The two of you had gone out for a walk, bought some coffee and was now sitting in a park, just watching the people that was walking by. There wasn't a lot of people out, it was a work day and right after the lunch break, so most people had already gone back to work.

"I've been thinking much lately", Vernon suddenly said, out of nowhere. The phrasing of the words made you smile a bit, and you turned your gaze to him.

"Yeah, what have you been thinking about?", you said softly, hiding your nose in your scarf in a try to get it to warm up.

"I was talking to mom the other day", he looked at you and smiled. "And she said she wished she had a daughter like you", you blinked and tilted her head. "Of course she has Sofia, but she said that another one wouldn't hurt.", he reached out and took your free hand.

"I though about how much joy and love you've brought to my life, to my family's life. About how much you mean to me, and what I would do if you weren't in my life", you took a short breath, was he going to-. "And I realized that I don't want to live a life where you aren't in it.", he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a ring. A very obvious engagement ring. "So, will you be in my life forever?", you smiled at him and softly squeezed his hand.

"Are you sure? I'm quite a lot to handle", he laughed at you comment and nodded.

"Yeah. I'm very sure, please give me the honor to call you Mrs. Chwe", he smiled, teeth showing and love sparkling in his eyes.

"Then yes. I would love to be Mrs. Chwe.", you said and he took out the ring and slid it on your finger.

"That kind of came out of nowhere", you laughed and he intertwined his fingers with yours.

"Yeah, I've been carrying around that ring for a month waiting for the perfect moment and this just felt right", you leaned against him and let your head fall on his shoulder.

"It was right. It's perfect", you sighed and closed your eyes with the biggest smile on your face.

-----

Masterlist

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Taglist: @foxdaisy @pearlygraysky @cixrosie @thmrdrs

[yandere-sins]

Unbearable Emotions

Horrortober Day 11: Punish “I don’t want to do this! But you leave me no choice.

Hey, I actually finished this one early! (But only so I could farm Genshin materials OTL) Day 11 and we’re actually getting somewhere woop! Enjoy some Diluc ^-^

Warnings: Yandere, Choking, Blood Mention, Fighting, Wounds Characters: Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader

Why did it have to change?

The last few weeks had been peaceful in House Ragnvindr, to the point it was eerily so. Diluc would visit you in the morning and on his break before heading out, only returning after it was long dark outside. Sometimes, you were already asleep as he sneaked one last glance through the door gap, assuring himself of your presence. But most of the time, you were sitting next to the window, reading or writing your journal, and though you didn’t smile upon seeing him, you still put aside your task to have the meal he brought you. 

Lately, you started asking for things, giving him this strange, pleasant warmth in his stomach. Wishes he could fulfill you, like stories to read or new furniture for your room, fell off your lips, and Diluc was eager to fulfill them quickly and in excellent quality. It was almost fun to make orders for you, and he caught himself smiling once or twice after having given another order up for you. He never knew you couldn’t sleep well on your pillow and was more than happy to bring you about a dozen new ones to try. Even Diluc had to admit that your room, in comparison to before, now was a proper bedroom instead of the prison he put you in. 

You deserved them, all the good things. He had fresh flowers delivered to you every day and occasionally even tilted the window for you so you could hear the birds chirping outside. It was all thanks to you being on your best behavior. No matter if your situation was right or wrong, you engaged with him, thanking him for his efforts and appreciating the work he was doing. If there was anything to put a smile on your face, Diluc was more than ever eager to give it to you, importing wares here and there and inspecting them personally before having them brought to your room.

 Diluc learned that he liked it when you were satisfied. He really liked it. Maybe you still weren’t happy, but you were no longer curled up in your bed from morning till night, crying or screaming. You’d look up when he entered, at least, briefly. And your answers to his questions weren’t just snide remarks. After all this time, you’d finally look into his eyes again, and for that, he thanked the Archons. The two of you even had dinner together once, though he didn’t dare to get greedy and make it a regular event. Diluc didn’t trust his luck for it to go well forever.

He was right, of course. It didn’t.

Why, oh why, he asked himself, holding down your hands at either side of your head, your leg once again striking him into his torso. Why had the situation to change? Diluc liked the serene time you spent together—he loved it even! Loved it so much that your betrayal hurt him more than the shard of glass you had rammed into his shoulder. It would have hurt more than a blade striking him down.

“LET ME GO!” you screamed, the exact words he had heard so often since he brought you here. Nothing had changed. Absolutely nothing, but just like your depression, your good behavior had been temporary, an episode, if you will. Now you had destroyed the vase he used to decorate your rooms with flowers, threw the plates with perfectly fine food against the wall, and ripped the books out of the shelf as if you were possessed. Possessed with getting out, getting away from the man that did all this just so you could live happily and safely by his side.

Luckily, Diluc hadn’t left that night. His gut instinct to do reports today had proven useful as one of the maids came running, screaming for help as you flew into your rampage. This wasn’t about you ruining perfectly fine goods and his gifts. It wasn’t about being locked in this room or spending your days in peace.

This was all about him.

When he left you that day after lunch, you had looked after him. Not with the affection Diluc wanted, but with the embers of hate coursing through your eyes, burning his reflection in them. Nothing new, yet, it froze him all over again as he was reminded of the first few days after he brought you home. The panic, the chaos, the pain. It all came back to him as if he was waking up from a good dream. Maybe it was, and he only ever dreamed of your good side. 

Those were his thoughts as he tackled you down. Not because he wanted to, but because you were attacking everyone who tried to help. Your hand was already bleeding, and Diluc didn’t want to imagine what else the piece of the vase would hurt if he didn’t put a stop to it. But before he could take it from you, you had already lodged it into his shoulder, cutting through coat and shirt and piercing his skin. A pain he could endure despite his groan and a scar that he’d always wear close to his heart. But you were his priority right then and there, not his medical condition. 

For mere seconds, you seemed to realize what you did, time standing still as your tense muscles stopped in their movement, regret swirling in your eyes. And then you took a deep breath, your chest rising, and screamed. Loud, deafening, angry, and fearful, as Diluc’s blood dripped onto your face while he hovered above you. What could he have done? What should he have done? 

Gloved fingers around your throat were all he could think of. Yours followed. It was a devastating sight. You never touched him willingly before, but now you were clawing at his wrists, trying to wring yourself out of his grip. The last bit of air in your throat escaped with a grunt, but as you gasped for new air, nothing came. The madness in your eyes slowly drained, replaced by the gaze of a person dying. If anyone knew how that looked like, it was Diluc. There had been so many people he killed despite their will to live still being intact. You, too, wanted to live. It was all you ever wanted.

“Di...luc,” you gurgled, shaking under him as you reached for his sleeves, trying to make him regain awareness. How must you have seen him? Did you see a protector? A worrywart? Someone desperate for you? Or was he a murderer in your eyes? The bad wolf from the fairytales? A sick bastard?

Already much too late, your eyes hooded as you were about to pass out, Diluc broke out of his thoughts and let go, your body falling from his grip like a lifeless doll. The gasps and gurgles erupting from your mouth were heartbreaking. Coughs after coughs while you tried to get the air back into your lungs, and you gripped your own throat as if you could stop the pain with your touch. Tears dripped from your eyes as your body recovered from near-death, you turned to the side, unable to look at him any longer. Diluc could hear the cracks in his heart, pieces slowly coming undone as it broke watching you suffer. This was his doing. He made you into this. Both the good and bad sides were all the produce of his treatment, and he only got more aware of it now as he watched you break down crying. 

“Why?!” you croaked, trying to match the volume of your screams before but failing miserably. “Why are you doing this?!” 

Your question was valid, but weren’t his feelings valid as well? Weren’t his good intentions justified? Was he truly… such a monster?

“I don’t want to do this! But you leave me no choice!” Diluc barked back, barely able to contain his emotions. You flinched as he yelled at you, looking at him from below with big, scared eyes. It hurt! It hurt to see you come to harm because of him! Was there absolutely nowhere he could keep you safe?! Wasn’t he trying his best?! What was he supposed to do?!

“I- I can’t do this,” he muttered, clutching his head. Slowly rubbing his face, he was reminded by the pain in his shoulder of his wounds. He was angry, so, so angry, but not at you. Just at himself. Why was all he did wrong? However, he was disappointed in you just as much as himself. You started all of this. You did… something to him. Hexed him or cursed him. Probably the latter…

“Clean this up,” he barked as he turned around suddenly, frightening the maids standing in the doorway and having watched the spectacle. They hurried into the room, cleaning up the mess and dangerous objects while he left without looking at you for even one more second. Diluc wanted to tell them more orders, have you suffer just as much as he was suffering. But he couldn’t do that. Not to you. 

Grabbing his sword, he headed out into the dark, setting his eyes on campfires in the distance. Something else would take his anger, let him clear his mind. And when he came back, he’d… he’d… 

He didn’t know what he’d do. Something needed to be done, but Diluc couldn’t think at that moment. All he could do was curse and swear at Fatui and Treasure Hoarders, leaving a burned, black trail wherever he went. Defeating them again and again until he found a solution to the problem he created. One that wouldn’t separate you from him.

But one that would make you value your life enough to never do what you did that night ever again.

[zhanyes]

Tianshan dating headcannons because i also love these two dumbasses too

Also dedicated to @el-mundo-real who requested tianshan headcannons 🖤

. . .

- Literally no one knows whether they’re dating or not. Not even themselves because they don’t talk about it

- Jian yi thinks they’re dating already and Zhengxi says they’re still getting there (somehow they’re both right) and they make a bet

- He tian likes staying over at Mo’s and he’s gotten pretty close to mama Mo

- Mama Mo teaches him how to knit !! He tried to knit a scarf for Mo but it came out a little messy and tangled. Mo still wears it anyway saying it’s a waste of yarn if not used (He’s actually really touched)

- He eats dinner there about 5 times a week and sleeps over thrice a week. He’s a permanent fixture in the house now, he has his own plate and mug, utensils, toothbrush, a spare key, and more than half of his closet migrated to Mo’s closet

- Sometimes Mo “accidentally” wears He tian’s sweaters and He tian dies a little bit every time

- Sometimes He tian deliberately wears Mo’s clothes and it’s always tighter and a bit shorter on his body so when he moves his arms the shirt rides up. Mo guanshan shouts at him to change and to stop contaminating his clothes but his ears are red anyway

- They bicker A LOT. Over the smallest things because He tian loves riling him up and Mo gets riled up too easily

He tian, for the 7th time in 5 minutes: “What does this thing do?”

Mo guanshan, losing his mind: “THAT’S A FUCKING MICROWAVE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT DO?!”

- There are times when homicide is the best option

Mo Guanshan: “I acknowledge that I can be mean sometimes-”

He tian, in the bathtub: “Sometimes?”

Mo Guanshan: “Shut the fuck up. So I brought you a bath bomb as a peace offering.”

He tian: “That’s a fucking toaster.”

Mo guanshan: “Exactly. A bath bomb.”

- Contrary to what his actions say, Mo guanshan is actually relieved that He tian spends most of his time in their apartment. He tian never told him but he can see how lonely the other teenager is

- Mo guanshan tries to teach He tian chores because He tian knows nothing about cleaning or doing everyday things

Mo guanshan: “How the fuck do you not know how to wash dishes where the hell do you eat?!”

He tian, drinking milk straight out the carton: “Obviously on plates, Momo. I just throw them away after.”

Mo guanshan, sputtering: “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW OUT PLATES?!”

- The first and only recipe that He tian managed to cook successfully is instant noodles with boiled egg that’s not quite cooked enough. Sometimes he brings Mo noodles as breakfast in bed and he looks so proud of it Mo has a hard time saying that the noodles are overcooked and that noodles aren’t exactly breakfast food (he eats it anyway)

- Mo sometimes, only sometimes, brings He tian grocery shopping because he needs to learn how to buy food for himself. Somehow He tian always ends up in the miscellaneous section where he has a pack of ballpens he’ll never use, 2 journals he’ll also never use, a couple of scented candles, various dog clothes and leashes for the dog he doesn’t have, a couple’s mug, and a vase in his cart

- He tian stopped trying to barge into Mo guanshan’s bed and sleeps on the futon on the floor beside it. It’s not the most comfortable and he had a hard time sleeping on it at first but he likes being in Mo’s company even while sleeping

- Sometimes Mo would move in his sleep and leave his arm dangling on the side of the bed, He tian grabs it of course and Mo wakes up to sweaty palms. He still leaves it for a few moments before harshly slapping away He tian’s hand

- Mo’s hands aren’t smooth at all because of working all the time and practicing the guitar but He tian loves them all the same. He likes to feel the contrast in textures with his slightly smoother hands

- He tian has a thousand pictures of Mo guanshan sleeping in various angles and poses. He has his favorites framed and keeps it on his bedside table in his apartment so when he’s sleeping there he still feels like they’re sleeping together

- Mo guanshan has a few of He tian sleeping but he swears up and down that he'll never do anything as disgusting as that. He makes one of them his wallpaper.

- Sometimes when they don’t feel like sleeping yet they stay up talking and arguing about random things

Mo guanshan: “Why would aliens be in space? The ocean is definitely the way to go.”

He tian: “But why would they be in the ocean? They’ll drown.”

Mo guanshan: “They’re aliens maybe they have gills or some shit.”

He tian: “I’m telling you they’re not in the ocean, Mo.”

Mo guanshan: “And I’m telling you you’re wrong, bastard.”

- On rare days they would stay up talking about their pasts and about life in general, with the lights closed and the only source of light is the moonlights from the window

- One of these nights, Mo told He tian about what happened to his dad and their restaurant, why they’re in so much debt over it and He tian holds Mo’s hand tightly throughout

- He knew better than to say that he could pay for that debt so Mo doesn’t need to worry anymore (He still says it anyway and Mo blew a fuse) but he swore to help Mo through other means

- The next day he orders a whole carton of mangoes, apples and peaches in his apartment and learns how to peel properly through youtube and Zhengxi

- He goes to Mo’s part time job in the grocery and helps him peel fruits, Mo guanshan doesn’t mention anything when he notices the bandaids on the other’s hands but he does cook him beef stew for dinner

- As expected He tian’s presence brings more customers and the manager asks if he wants to work there permanently but he said he’s only working for Mo so the manager can give Mo a raise instead

- Once, Mo got sick so he missed his part time job for the day (He was supposed to give away flyers on the streets) and got extra pissy because He tian didn’t visit him and wouldn’t answer his phone 

- Apparently He tian took over his job for the day and he only finds out when he goes to the manager and the manager asks when his ‘boyfriend’ can come back to work again because the customers love him

- He tian almost never talks about himself but once he talked about the puppy who disappeared after he saves it and then found out that it’s still alive after all these years

- Mo keeps quiet about it the whole time he was talking and the next few days he takes time to knit a small dog plushie and leaves it on He tian’s futon

- He tian didn’t cry, he didn’t (he did), but he hugged Mo and whispered a sincere thank you. For once, Mo lets it happen

- Mo quickly regrets his decision when He tian names the plushie “Chicken sandwich”

- He tian brings Mo in a lot of not-dates (according to Mo) like arcades, ocean parks, festivals, and fairs because he didn’t get to go as a kid and he wants to experience it for the first time with Mo

- They get crazy competitive in every game. Every. Single. One. If it’s a co-op shooting game they would compete on who kills the most enemies, if it’s a harmless crane game it becomes a competition of who can get the most plushies

- They both each have a photobooth strip. Mo keeps his as a bookmarker in a journal, and He tian has his in the back of his phone.

- They go on a double not-date with Jian yi and Zhengxi and it ends up in almost getting chased by a police car at 2 am in pokemon onesies and holding a bag of chips 

- Sometimes Mo would visit his dad in prison and just rant to him about He tian

Mo guanshan: “The nerve of that guy to do something like that in front of a teacher urgh.”

Papa Mo: “Your boyfriend sounds like a fun guy, son. I want to meet him soon.”

Mo guanshan: “BO-BOYFRIEND?!”

Papa Mo: “Yes???”

Mo guanshan: “No??? That bastard isn’t my boyfriend??”

Papa Mo: “Are you sure about that?”

Mo guanshan: “...Yes?”

- Enter gay panique because he doesn’t actually know whether He tian is his boyfriend or not

- They don’t call each other boyfriends and they never talked about it so no??? But they’re also not just friends so maybe??? Do they go on dates?? Can grocery trips be considered dates??

- He rings up Jian yi and the blonde just laughed for 5 minutes straight without stopping and he wonders how he’s still breathing

Mo Guanshan, after hearing Jian yi laughing for 5 minutes: “Are you fucking done?”

Jian yi, trying to catch his breath: “Man this is some top-tier entertainment.”

Mo guanshan: “WELL?!”

Jian yi: “Look bro literally no one knows whether you’re dating, fucking, planning each other’s murder OR planning a murder together.”

Mo guanshan: “What if it’s all of the above?”

Jian yi: “Then congratulations…? Please don’t murder me?”

Mo guanshan: “Urgh you’re fucking useless I should have called Zhengxi.”

Jian yi: “Wait don’t, I don’t wanna lose the bet. How about this, there’s a festival upcoming for couples and families, if He tian asks you then you’re probably, maybe, dating?”

Mo guanshan: “That’s stupid. AND WHAT BET?!”

Jian yi: “Ah woops gotta water my dog.”

- Mo tells himself that it’s stupid and there’s no way he’s falling for that...but he feels disappointed anyway when He tian doesn’t ask him the following days

- He tian asks on the last day before the festival, but he asks mama Mo first and Mo guanshan second cuz he wants to celebrate with both of them. He confessed that he’s never actually went to a festival with a family before so he was trying to build up courage to ask

- Mo guanshan is an absolute goner after that

- On the day of the festival, they find Zhanyi there on a date but decide to leave them alone. While they were leaving Jian yi kept throwing Mo guanshan so much winks that Zhengxi thought he got something in his eye

- The festival was fun but Mo couldn’t take his eyes off how happy and content He tian looks

- Queue cliche fireworks scene but it’s He tian being amazed by the fireworks and Mo looking mesmerized at him thinking, “Ah, I want him to look at me like that.”

- The next day, he drags He tian to visit his dad in jail

Papa mo: “Oh this is a surprise, you’ve never brought someone before?”

He tian, trying to introduce himself: “Hello, sir. I’m He tian, Mo guanshan’s fri-”

Mo guanshan, cuts him off: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend, dad.”

He tian:

[thexanwillshine]

a;lskfjdk

Author: thexanwillshine (twitter, ao3) Pairings: Levi x Hange Cross-Postings: AO3 Notes: made for Day 2: Confessions of Levihan Week 2021

“But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Levi Ackerman can argue that every writer he’s met is always a little bit more eccentric than the average person, but no one proves his theory more than Hange Zoë.

Hange wakes him up in the middle of the night, voice screeching on the phone in her excitement. He responds groggily—as one does when their sleep is disturbed at an ungodly hour by an overly-excited author who acts as if they’ve just found out the answers to the universe—and tries to keep himself sober enough to understand what in the goddamn fuck Hange was talking about this time.

“Levaaiiii,” she says, drawling out his name in a manner that was both annoying and endearing, “I’ve figured it out!”

He can almost imagine the look on her face: starry-eyed in her joy, mouth stretched wide into a grin, fingers shaking as she bounces in glee, shifting her weight from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes . . .

And Levi exhales in both relief and the tiniest hint of delight, because this is exactly how he wants Hange to be: happy .

Nevertheless, he replies “Figured what out?” snarkily.

Hange’s response comes out quickly, as if she needed to say everything that had to be said in the span of five seconds or less. “So you know how I’ve been trying to write a fiction novel because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement as he fixes the covers over his legs before turning on his bedside lamp. He leans back on the bed frame and closes his eyes to listen to her ramble.

“So I was thinking, I wanted to write a romance novel, because you know how people fall in love and stuff?”

“No Hange, I’ve never heard of that concept in my entire life,” Levi says in a deadpan voice.

Hange laughs, because of course she would know that’s his pathetic attempt at lighthearted conversation. Levi is glad that she knows him better than most people, and it is this sense of familiarity that made him feel particularly comfortable when graced with her presence.

“Just because you’ve never fallen in love before doesn’t mean it’s not real, Levi!” Hange tells him in jest.

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“After all, you’ve probably never wanted to kiss someone your entire life!”

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“Sure, Hange.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, because yes, Levi has fallen in love—and maybe, just maybe, he’s still on the road to understanding what it meant to treasure someone far more than just a regular friend.

He shakes off such thoughts before maneuvering Hange back to the initial reason why she had called. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I finished,” she proclaims on the phone, her voice proud, “I finished writing the first ten chapters.”

Levi blinks in confusion before sitting straight up, the information processing in his mind that was still a bit drunk with sleep. “You what?” “I couldn’t stop writing,” Hange told him sheepishly, detecting the slightest hint of concern in her editor’s voice, “I’ve been writing for the past 24 or so hours. Maybe more.”

Levi grunts in annoyance, pulling the covers away from his body and jumping out of his unmade bed. He runs a hand through his dark locks, sighing. “Four-eyes, you need to get some sleep.”

“But Levi,” Hange says in protest, “I need you to read my draft. There are some parts I just don’t think are super natural.”

“And I was sleeping like a regular human being,” Levi retorted as he shrugged off his shorts. After that, he put on jeans that he had recently washed before patting down the shirt he was wearing in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the wrinkles that had accumulated while he tossed and turned in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Levi, I didn’t realize the time!” Hange replies, and he can almost feel her guilt starting to set in. “You should go back to sleep,” she immediately adds. “Take care of yourself!”

Levi slips on his rubber shoes and grabs his umbrella before answering. “Coming from you? Not that credible.”

Hange laughs light-heartedly, and his heart flutters just a tiny bit. Levi pushes the feeling away almost as quickly as it had come.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, almost dreading the reply.

There was none.

“Hange,” he calls, but there’s still no response. “Hange. Answer me,” he says firmly, prodding her on. “Have you eaten?”

The laughter that comes out from the other end is nervous. “Woops.”

Levi sighs. He opens his car door and slips inside smoothly, grabbing his keys from his pocket and starting the engine. “Hange, you’re supposed to eat.”

“Sorry,” she tells him honestly. “I really didn’t want to ruin my momentum. I can’t believe I forgot.” She mumbles her second sentence, sounding almost deep in thought. “I’ll go find food now! Want me to email you the working draft? You can look at it in the morning when you wake up.”

“No need,” Levi tells her, placing his phone on his dashboard and accelerating his car. “I’m on the way.”

“Levi!” Hange exclaimed excitedly as she heard her doorbell ring at around four in the morning.

She rushes to the door in delight, opening it to reveal Levi standing in front of her, a paper bag in his hand and a jacket half-heartedly slung over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets calmly, before walking inside and letting himself in.

Inwardly, Hange thanks whatever god is out there for her foresight. Her unit was relatively clean since she hadn’t really done anything since Levi’s last visit. The place seemed to pass Levi’s health protocols, since he sat on her couch and placed the paper bag on the table right across from him.

“Eat,” he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hange grins, before plopping down beside him and opening the paper bag. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see.”

She raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity, before taking a glimpse inside the paper bag.

The smell of quesadillas immediately fills the room, and Hange lets out a soft squeal, taking out the food from the bag quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” Hange says as she nudges him on the shoulder. “You also got me onion rings! You know me too well, Levi.”

“Unfortunately,” Levi responds sarcastically, and Hange laughs almost automatically.

As Hange hums in glee, picking apart the paper wrapped around the food items, Levi maintains his silence. They stay like that as Hange eats. Every so often, she would comment about how the amount of cheese was perfect and how the onion rings just about melted in her mouth. Levi alternates between watching her eat and scrolls through his phone placidly.

Soon, he chooses to break the silence. “So where’s your draft?”

Hange is munching on her last piece of quesadilla when she glances in his direction. “Oh, it’s on my laptop! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, this food was just so good.”

Levi stands up and heads on over to Hange’s room, gently pushing the door open and scanning the area for her laptop. On top of her unmade bed was a half open Macbook Pro, which he gently took before returning to his seat beside Hange.

Without hesitation, Levi opens the laptop and inputs the password. For some reason, Hange made it his birthday—1225—because she claimed that no one would guess such a random date. He is greeted with a blaring Google Docs document entitled “a;lskfjdk.”

“Nice title you got there,” he comments, and Hange chuckles.

“I didn’t want to think of a title yet, okay!” Hange pouts, and Levi nudges her foot gently in an attempt to comfort her from his own teasing.

He scans the document first before reading it. Hange is a good writer, but fiction is an entirely new genre for her. Immediately, he notices common habits from writing research papers leak into her new work: overexplaining, using words that are too formal for her target audience, sentences a little bit void from emotion.

He takes note of these comments on her notes app before going over her draft again, this time more meticulously than he had done previously. During this time, Hange finishes eating, wraps her trash and tosses them all inside the paper bag before standing up and dumping the entire thing inside her garbage bin.

“Levi,” she calls as she washes her hands through the sink faucet. Levi gives her the smallest hint that he’s listening by raising his eyebrow, but he doesn’t take his gaze away from her laptop. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announces, and he waves his hand dismissively.

Hange smiles to herself. Levi is always nagging her whenever she would accidentally hyperfixate on her writing, but he acts the same way when reading her works.

When Hange stepped inside the shower, Levi was already conducting a deep dive in her third chapter. The gears in his head slowly begin to turn as he begins to analyze her work.

The story revolved around the tales of the people who went to the clinic. The first chapter was a brief introduction on who the main characters were: There’s Janelle, a bright-eyed psychologist whose passion influenced the people around her. Together with El and Bea, her trusted assistants studying under her guidance, they would aid the people who went to the Hopiatria Clinic seeking care.

Meanwhile, the second chapter featured a child who felt as if she was being blamed for the death of her mother by her father. Her mother had died in a plane crash shortly after the young girl wished that her mom could go home on her sixth birthday. Janelle talks to the child gently while El and Bea provide emotional support, offering the child toys and biscuits whenever the need arises.

The third chapter was trickier, and it was there that Levi noticed a twist in Hange’s writing. The story revolved around a boy busy getting her doctorate, and a young girl who had been in love with him ever since they were in college. It’s the young girl who comes to Janelle’s office, and she relays the tale of her unrequited childhood romance to the psychologist.

The young girl is passionate, and wanted to take a step forward in order to guide her towards falling out of love with her best friend. Janelle presents two suggestions: (1) confession, while being fully-open to the possibility of rejection, and (2) accepting rejection without confession. The young girl decides to go with the first option, but to her surprise, the boy returns her feelings.

Everything seemed well-written up until the end of the chapter, where Hange had written,

And then they kissed.

Levi scrolled down the page, tilting his head to the side in slight confusion. That’s it? He thought, trying to find the rest.

Everything had been so well-described; from the girl’s internal turmoil—caused by her fear of destroying their friendship and the pain that came with unrequited love—to the boy confessing his own emotions for her.

The ending was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As he blinked at the google document in confusion, already typing out his comment on her notes app, Hange emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, wet from her shower. Wrapped around her waist is his bathrobe, which she had borrowed from him long ago and never bothered to return it.

Levi scoffs as he glances in her direction. Here she was, parading with the cloth on and rubbing that specific fact in his face.

“Hey,” Hange greeted, smiling as she ran a hand through her brown locks, “How’s the reading going?”

“It was okay until the third chapter,” Levi says honestly, pointing the laptop screen in her direction. “The ending’s anticlimactic.”

Hange hummed, pursing her lips together. “Yeah. I didn’t really know how to end it,” she tells him as she opens her cabinet and grabs a few pieces of clothing. “Give me a bit, I’m going to change.”

She disappears into her room and Levi focuses on her story, trying to think of a way to spur Hange on and perhaps actively improve the ending’s writing.

Hange emerges in a loose t-shirt (which was, once again, his) and shorts. She sits down right beside him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at her laptop and read the specific line that particularly irked Levi.

“It’s that one, right?” Hange asks, pointing at the last sentence. “And then they kissed.”

“Yeah,” Levi responds, shaking his head. “Everything was so well-written up ‘till that point. You were able to describe the emotions perfectly, and the narration’s not that bad . . save for a few paragraphs that maybe should’ve stayed in your research papers.”

Hange chuckles. “Old habits die hard,” she responds, before taking her Macbook from his lap and transferring it to hers. “So what should I write?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m just your editor. You’re the writer.”

Hange pouts. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Maybe describe the scene more,” Levi suggests. “Everything ended so abruptly. Every emotion you’ve created and built disappeared in that one line.”

She nods in agreement. “But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Hange’s eyes shoot open immediately, and Levi’s face turns red just as quickly.

“F-Forget it,” he says, interrupting her just when he saw Hange open her mouth to speak. Any semblance of calm in his body disappears immediately, and his heart starts pounding against his chest in a rhythm that reminds him too much of a beating drum.

Hange, however, looks elated.

“You want to kiss me?” she tells him in excitement, blinking at him. “I’d like that. It could help me write this scene, you know.”

Levi looks away. “It was just a spur of the moment question.”

“So, you’re not going to kiss me?”

He actively avoids her gaze because he can already see from his peripheral vision that she looks sad, disappointed even. He grunts in response, closing his eyes and focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall.

“Oh,” Hange replies, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

Contrary to popular belief, Levi does want to kiss Hange. More than anything.

There were many reasons why: Because she looks so handsome and beautiful at the same time, and her very smile could light up any room she’d walk into. Because she says his name in the most endearing way. Because she understands his flaws. Because she has one of the kindest hearts he’s ever seen. Because she welcomes him with open arms, not a single thread of hesitation in her mind.

Most of all, it was simply because she was Hange.

He steals a glance in her direction, and she’s slightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, her head downcast. Her sad expression tugs at hi

Levi thinks he’s already in this too deep, so he decides to speak.

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

From his periphery, he sees her look up at him so quickly he thought her neck would break. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He doesn’t dare turn his head in her direction when he replies quietly, “What do you think?”

“Would you kiss me?” Hange asks inquisitively, tilting her head to the side.

Levi’s heart skips a beat.

“Maybe,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me.”

Hange is silent for a moment, and Levi thinks this is it, I’m going to be rejected, but he feels a gentle finger touch his chin and turn his head in Hange’s direction.

He is met with her brown orbs, shining just a bit in what seemed like hidden glee. He cocks an eyebrow at her then, confused.

“I’m letting you,” Hange says, laughing. “Kiss me, I mean.” Her face is already slowly nearing his, and he can almost see the way her thick lashes brushed against her skin.

Slowly, Levi raises his head just a tiny bit and responds against her lips, “Okay.”

Hange smiles and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as he does the same around her waist. She tastes like the peppermint of her toothpaste, smells like his shampoo (which he had kept in her apartment since he always found himself staying over), and felt warm as her skin made contact with his. Hange's lips are gentle, slow, and a little shy—so different from how she usually is. Levi knows it’s because she doesn’t want to scare him off, so he makes the first move and nips at her lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking it gently.

She lets out a moan, and Levi takes this as a sign to continue. He slides his hand over her back, and she shudders and deepens the kiss at the same time. Her tongue meets his, and they battle for dominance. Hange’s hand sweeps over his undercut and pushes him towards him, and it is then that he lets out a sound that vaguely resembles pleasure.

After a few minutes, Hange whispers “Levi,” as her lips make contact with his. He hums in response, pulling his lips away from her and connecting his forehead with hers.

“Hange,” he says, breathless.

“Is this you telling me you like me?” Hange asks, closing her eyes.

He doesn’t form a reply through words, but he nods and closes his eyes as well.

“Great,” Hange tells him, pecking his lips with her own. “Because I like you too. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. Even though you were so rude to me on the first day of college.”

He chuckles silently in relief, pulling her closer to him before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Think you’ll be able to write the ending now that you know what a kiss feels like?”

Hange laughs, and it vibrates against his shoulder as she hugs him tighter. “It’s exhilarating. I probably wouldn’t be able to put into words how good I feel that you like me back.”

“Try,” Levi teases.

“Well . . . you know that alternative title I wrote for the fictional novel?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The keyboard smash?”

Hange nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

a;lskfjdk.

[sailorhyunjinz]

SAW THAT DRUNK FLUFFY HEADCANNON. NOW DO A ANGST SMUT VERSION OF IT OR WHATEVER SIS. LEZ GET ETTTT SKRRTSKRTTTTT

Please. 🥺

LEZ GET IIIIIIIIIIT SKRTSKRT (I CANT)

some of these are both smut/angst and others only smut or only angst OK? ok

SMUT AND ANGST VERSION WOOP now we’re talking bby

warning; SMUT/ANGST. gn!reader x skz. subxdom, use of alcohol, sex under influence, minor injuries, penetrative sex, degradation, punishment, nicknames, choking, mentions of blood, slight dacryphilia, mentions of tobacco

Bangchan

he’s more pouty but seeing you with scraped knees makes him mad

mad because he cares so much about you 

“y/n you’re being stupid”

you fall into his arms, just as mad back at it

“if im so stupid then leave” 

he looks at you, dumbfounded but then mad

“fine, then i’ll leave” he says, clearly hurt by your words but holding tightly to his pride, storming off.

as the door closes you panic, feeling lonely and paranoid at the same time

you never really being good with alcohol anyways

so him leaving you in this vulnerable state made you feel,,, bad :((

you run after him and eventually catch up 

right as you get to him you stumble, scraping your knee and your hand

he turned around quickly, filled with worry but also pure rage

“you’re so stupid y/n” he says leaning down and looking you into your glossy eyes

“h-help me channie” you say, your voice frail

he sighes, picking you up and the two of you going back home

Minho

be scared be real fucking scared

you aint walking for a week nuh uh

fucks you DEEP 

deeper than ever

boy is mad as fuck, he just lashes out on you for being so stupid as to walk home alone in the middle of the night. 

he complains and scolds you whilst he’s railing you oop

“fucking stupid, walking like that all alone”

you are practically crying underneath him, not sure if it’s from him scolding you or from how DEEP this man goes 

pounding some sense into you LMAO

lots of choking OOF

denying your orgasm until you’re crying

“yeah thats right, cry for me” (lmao cue twice)

NAH BUT A SWEETHEART AFTERWARDS I PROMISE 

Changbin

“what if you get injured y/n?” he says, holding your hand on your way home

“i didn’t!” you say confidently 

“then whats that?” he says, pointing at your bleeding knees

“n-nothing” you say, limping forward

“should listen to me more” he says quickly, puffing his cheeks in frustration

“i do listen, just,,, just let me have f-fun!” your head spinning. 

“but thats not having fun y/n, thats called being stupid and destroying your health” he spits on the ground

“alright then let me, not like it’s affecting you in any way” you slur out, changbin looking at you through hooded eyes as he exhales loudly

“maybe if you’d stop being drunk all the time you’d actually see how it is effecting me” he says, letting go of your hand causing you to stumble over your own legs

you hit the cold concrete in the dark as he walks home

“come back when you’ve thought about your actions”

Hyunjin

he paces back and forward in the hallway, waiting for you

the door creaks open and you, looking like a mess, appear infront of him

“where were you? i was worried sick y/n! you cant just do-”

“shush,,, i want a,, a hug” you stammer out, getting closer to him and smelling of cigarettes and alcohol

he pushes you away, glaring at you through dark eyes

“do you even care about me?” 

you tilt your head, feeling more unstable for every second that goes by. 

“of course hyunnie!” you smile lazily at him 

but he’s not buying any of it

i feel like he holds grudges for a long time??? idk just me??

“i’ll sleep on the couch, dont come close to me”

bruh his voice and tone is so cold, it send shivers down your spine

you nod, tears bubbling up in the corners of your eyes. 

Jisung

“im not helping you!” jisung says, you rubbing your thighs together, always feeling needy when drunk

“pl-please sungie, i-i wont drink ever again i-if you help,,, me”

he cocks his eyebrow at you, licking the inside of his cheek

“mhm.. you think im stupid enough to fall for that? what do you really think of me babygirl/babyboy”

you scratch the back of your head, not knowing what to answer

“y-you fell for it last time~”

he scoffs, pissed at the fact that you came stumbling through the door in the middle of the night

him waiting for you and being filled sick with worry

he leans closer to your ear, feeling the smell of liquor 

“why should i help you? sluts like you dont deserve me”

you whine at his words, not helping with your neediness

“please,, jisung i,, just help me!” you were started to get pouty to which he chuckles

“beg nicely”

Felix

“where were you”

his voice is like LOW low

he sits with his legs spread apart

bruh his gaze?!??”! its like black, just blank

you try to ignore him, shuffling around awkwardly but only stumbling from being drunk

“sit” he pats his lap you gulp, having no other choice but to listen

you sit down on his lap

your eyes are running all over the room, looking everywhere but at felix

“was my slut out drinking?” 

BRUH YOU JUST STARE AT HIM

he only says that when he’s mad, ONLY

so now you’re scared but you nod, barely having your eyes open

he hums, his voice vibrating through your ears

“you agree, you’re a slut?”

you nod again and before you know it theres a hand wrapped around your throat, pushing on the sides and making you feel even more lightheaded. 

his mouth gets close to your ear

his warm breath desending down your cheek

“dont make me do this kitten”

Seungmin

frustrated 

he gets a call from one of your friends that tell you that you’re passed out on the street

he picks you up, you barely standing on your own two legs and the entire way home he didnt say a word

as soon as the door to your home closes he starts yelling at you

“dont you have any thoughts in that dumb head of yours?”

you start tearing up from his loud and stern voice, leaning against a wall. 

“i-im sorry minnie” 

that being the only sentence he understood, the rest sounding more like blabbering

“are you really sorry y/n, are you??!”

“y-yes,,, just tired~”

without saying anything more he grabs his jacket and leaves

slamming the door behind him

at first you dont understand but then the silence takes over, leaving you wrapped with a lonely blanket as tranquility

“m-minnie?” you call out as if he was still there but being met by nothing but pure silence

you slide down against the wall, crying as seungmin peeks through the door, feeling bad for making you cry 

Jeongin

“enough”

he grabs the bottle from your hand, placing it beside him as the two of you were drinking at home. 

“but whyyy?~ we were just getting started innie~”

he looks at you with a puzzled expression

your cheeks flaming hot and your eyes drooping down

“cant you just stop y/n?”

you meet his brown eyes, not understanding what he meant

“hm? whatchu mean~?

he sighs loudly, seeing you roll around on the floor

“why can’t you just control yourself? why do i always have to take care of you?”

you laugh, your thoughts gone with the wind

“thats funny innie!”

poor boy gets frustrated and lays down, hovering above you

“is it funny if i do this?”

he kisses you, slowly trailing his fingertips downwards

OK I HAVE ONE REQUEST LEFT IN MY INBOX SO GOTTA DO THAT!! and after that im gonna start posting/working more on fics even though... i feel shit about writing fics because they never turn out that good huh.... AH WELL at least im trying T-T 

hard/soft thoughts are always welcome ><

[fandom-blackhole]

Okay you have no idea how excited I was to see that you're open for requests! I love your Mando stories so could I please request my big boi Paz? I'd love to witness you do magic with prompts : 14 (bodyguard AU) and either 49 (fake marriage)/63 (mistaken for couple)/80 (green-eyed epiphany) *can you tell I couldn't decide* *I'm a Libra* *I do apologize*

Im honored that you love my mando fics and that you got excited about me opening requests 🥺💕Also, as a Sagittarius sun and moon, I relate on not being able to make decisions 😔, but I have a great idea for:

14. Bodyguard AU 

63. Mistaken for Couple

80. Green-Eyed Epiphany  

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x GN!Reader

Words: roughly 2k, woops

Send me some AUs/Tropes??

Note: So I just wanted to start this off with what I'm thinking about this mash-up, like whats going on and the situation. A little backstory/world building, if you will. So, im seeing this as after the tribe on Nervarro scatters after the fight with Grogu, Din, and the Stormtroopers. Paz is by himself and in need of work for credits, to both support himself and save up for when/if he is reunited with his tribe he can help rebuild and contribute. That leads him to a small midrim planet that is pretty divided. You are the head of the government, but there is a group of people who keep trying to kill you and harm your supporters because they want the "true ruler" to be in your place. Said "ruler" is part of a bloodline of radical tyrants that had been controlling the planet until around the same time the empire fell, their downfall resulting from being too involved with the empire. SO, the head of your defense team brings in Paz to protect you, because not only is he a big scary dude covered in big weaponry and armor, but also because you keep insisting that all the soldiers and guards should be protecting the people not you, so bringing in Paz was his little loophole. Now on to the story!

You were not happy with this arrangement, and you had told the head of your guard just as much. You didn't need a protector, it only showed your rivals that you were scared of what they were capable of, that they had the possibility to win this war they were waging. The man- the mandalorian that had been hired was unfazed by your indifference towards him, always just trailing silently behind you look just as menacing as mandalorians were said to be. It was easy to tell that he knew his way around a variety of weapons, it was easy to tell that he had been through battles and suffered their consequences. And it was easy to tell that this job seemed to be a bit boring for him. He didn't have any excitement, most days the mandalorian was stuck following you throughout the capital building, attending meetings that he could care less about, standing guard to your study as you paced around in thought. Nothing much happened, but as time went on and the war worsened and the threat of your rivals loomed over your head you started to notice that the mandalorian would do little things that shaved a little of your stress away, or would brighten you day if only a little. Little treats would show up on your desk, or cups of teas or caf just the way you liked them, walks through the garden would result in a vase of flowers- handpicked and cut with a sharp knife at an angle, delicately- placed in your room. The first time you broke down in front of him, the stress of loosing nearly an entire village not far from where you were to the grievous ways of your enemies broke you to the point of sobbing hysterically and the mandalorian surprised you with his gentleness, as he softly grabbed your arms and made you look up at him, his blue helmet staring down at you as he said, "You will get past this...you...you are a good leader, you care for your people more than yourself, and in the end, that is what will have you coming out on top."

After that night, something changed between the two of you. Instead of following behind you silently, you started walking beside the mandalorian, in meetings instead of letting him stand silently behind you, you started asking his opinions on the battles or if he had any suggestions to help combat. The two of you got closer, and you weren't sure when, but eventually you found yourself calling the mandalorian a friend, and you liked to believe he thought of you as one as well, he at least trusted you enough that he told you his name, which you only used in the private of your quarters or study during your late night talks. When you started to show signs of the stress becoming too much, or that you were nearing another breakdown, he would gently lead you away from whatever you had been doing. More times than not he lead you to the gardens and sat you down as he would tell you stories of his childhood or of his people and culture. One evening, he went as far as to set up a little spot for you to relax and eat a little snack with tea, to give you time away from everything, to give you a break from holding your home on your shoulders. It had been nice, and it helped you clear your thoughts, the gesture had you smiling fully for the first time in months, and it was one that was not quick to fade. As thanks, you had asked Paz what you could do, to which he only replied, "Seeing you smile is enough." So you did, you smiled at him and gently reached out and placed a kiss on the cheek of his helmet.

The smile Paz had gifted you stayed for a few days, your people noticed the happiness and it it seemed to affect all of them, each person growing their own little smiles. Melancholy still hung in the air, but you felt like you had the energy and will power to deal with it now. But as all good things must end, this happiness was ripped from you, when the head of your guard rushed into a meeting with the delegates of the planet, his face was crumpled in worry and he whispered apologies as he reluctantly handed over a letter addressed to you. Your heart pounding, you opened the letter only to freeze at the sight of a photo taken of the moment that had only radiated happiness until now, staring down you only saw yourself pressed close to Paz’s form with lips pressed against his helmet. The moment now felt tainted, and you felt sick to your stomach, the happiness that was shown in the picture gone, only replaced with pure terror. Glancing at the man stood before you, he took the picture and flipped it before handing it back with a somber look. On the back, in deep red ink and scratchy handwriting read:

Now, do you really think courting a mandalorian is going to protect you from your death by my hands? Ill make sure to kill him in front of you so you have to watch as he falls.

Yours loving,

The True King

You hadn't even realized you were shaking, nor breathing heavily, until a gloved had reached into very and took the note away from you. You watched as Paz looked the note over before passing it back to your head guard. He told him something, but you could not hear as your eyes started ringing. Gently Paz helped you stand, before leading you away from the meeting. You didn't care where he was taking you, at that moment you couldn't think straight, couldn't get past the thought of, how did they get so close to take a photo without anyone noticing?

After the letter had been delivered Paz took care to never leave your side, he became more overbearing and involved with planning your schedule. No longer were you allowed in the gardens, or outside for that matter, for the time being, Paz only really allowed you to go to your quarters, your study, and the meeting room. You didn't fight him, too tired from the lasting conflicts and worry over what would happen next. A month went by, and everything quieted, the attacks stopped, and it almost felt like your enemy had gone into hiding. You didn't relax though, the note still whispering in the back of your head. Paz found himself often sleeping in the chair beside your bed, after too many nights of having been awoken to you yelling out his name and finding you rushing to his room to reassure yourself that he was safe.

Then it happened. You knew the quiet was only leading to something, but you weren't prepared to be a woke in the middle of the night to Paz scream to you. It had been the first night you had been able to fall asleep and stay asleep without nightmares of Paz’s death, but you were only thrown into a different nightmare as your eyes few open and you saw Paz fighting off an attacker. You yelled for you to run, and as you hesitated he only growled your name and told you to go, so with a heavy heart you did, you ran. All around the capital you could seem fires burning and hear your guards fighting with silhouettes your tired eyes could not make out in the low light of night. You did not know where to go, only letting your feet carry you, only stopping when you were out of breath. Looking around, you found yourself in the garden, feet from where you gave Paz the soft kiss, the memory still churning out a small amount of happiness, but quickly turned sour once more when the grinning face of the man you loathed most in the world stood from the bench hidden in the shadows.

"My dear, I was hoping you'd come here. I know you are especially fond of the gardens, most certainly this area."

"What do you want Alun? Why wouldn't you stop this fighting? People, my people, our people are suffering!"

He scoffed and turned to look at the city burning around you both. "The people deserve what they are getting for forgetting their true leaders. And you for forgetting what you once were."

"Stop this. You are doing nothing but destroying the planet!"

Alun turned to look at you, small smile curling onto his hate filled face. Slowly he reached out and placed the rose he had picked behind your ear, the thorns pricking your skin, one digging in enough to make a drop of blood run down your ear.

"When I have control again, and we are again together, things will go back to the way they were. I promise you, love. You just need to stop fighting me."

Disgust formed on your face as you stepped back, "We may have been engaged before you fell, but I never loved you. I was forced into that position by you and your father, and I do not regret being apart of how he and you fell from grace. I will never stop fighting you."

"Oh, but I love you, and I will have you, my love."

"Not if I have any say," a voice growled from behind you. Whipping around, relief flooded you at the sight of Paz marching towards where you stood. He was covered in blood from fighting, but seemed like he was uninjured himself much to your relief. But he seemed angry, livid almost as he pushed you behind him, standing toe-to-toe with Alun. "If you want them, you will have to get through me, and I will not stop fighting until my dying breath for them," Paz’s words settled into your chest, warmth flowing through you as the next few second moved in slow motion. Paz reached out, before Alun even had a chance to grab for his weapon. Paz lifted him like a rag doll to his height, making direct eye contact, before growling out, "because I love them, and you will never have them."

And with that said, Paz simply slammed his forehead into Alun's forcefully knocking him unconscious, then carelessly dropping him to the ground where he laid unmoving buise already forming on his forehead. Paz then turned to you and reached for you, but you simply flung yourself onto him. "You're okay, i was so worried, I didn't want to leave you, I was so scared that something would happen and that Id...."

"That you'd, what cyare," Paz whispered as he held you close, arms wrapped around you as if he'd let go and you'd disappear. Looking up and into his helmet's visor you were quiet for a moment, before speaking up softly, "I love you too... I thought I'd never get to tell you that I loved you."

Gently, Paz pressed his forehead against your own, before whispering, "You don't have to worry. I'll always be around to protect you. And," a teasing note coming out in his voice making you smile, "You can tell me how much you love me anytime you want. As long as you don't have anymore previous fiancés out there professing their love to you. I don't think I could hold back from ripping off their heads like I did just now."

Giggling you shook your head, "No more love professions, I promise. Only yours matter."

Everything Tags: @mysticalgalaxysalad @phoenixhalliwell @moodsare @perpetual-fangirl900 @night-snows00 @dumbass-simp-for-fredweasley @stargazingthenightaway @meabravo @just-here-for-the-moment @masteracewindu @litakino

Paz Tags: @bunny-fairy @elinedjarin @shellyc9 @blackmarketmummy @djarin-junk

Join the Taglists

[delaber]

Late

Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: this is my first time writing a fluffy fic. Also my first time writing about pregnancy. I usually stay the hell away from both but this request was just too sweet. Thank you @lonelydance. Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: pregnancy fic obviously.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86​ @lonelydance​ @ohsoverykeri​ @summerofsnowflakes​ @ramp-it-up​ @alexander-hamilhoe​ @honeysucklechocolatedrippin​​ @riiyy​​ @mysearchforgratification​ @janthony-stan @sillyteecup​ @biafbunny​ @einfachniemand​​

It had started out innocently; you had only taken a small handful of the mozzarella cheese and it was just to get your screaming appetite to calm down, but before you had really had time to stop yourself, you had snacked the entire bag.

"Woops," you mumbled to yourself as you realised that you were standing with an empty bag in hand, still chewing on the last bit of cheese. Frantically, you searched the fridge, but quickly remembered that you had only bought one bag and that there was nothing to put on top of the homemade pizzas you had promised Rafa. You cast a sidelong glance towards the sofa where your boyfriend was breathing heavily in his sleep. He had been stressed from work all week and you hated that you had to wake him up and send him to the store for more cheese for the third night in a row - but he had been the one to insist on only buying one bag at a time after all.

As silently as possible, you tiptoed over to him, careful not to wake up Mía who was snoring beside you on the kitchen floor. She had been following you around all day - for some reason highly alert - without straying further away from you than a couple of feet. Although she was very cute, she had also been very annoying. Luckily, you managed to tiptoe your way out of the kitchen and into the living room without waking her.

You sat down next to Rafa on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair, "Wake up, love," you kissed his forehead.

He shuffled a little, his eyes fluttering briefly before his eyelids fell back down, "five more minutes," he mumbled sleepily, "I just need to wake up. I'm so tired..."

"I know love," you ran your fingers through his hair one more time.

"Come here," he said and pulled you down to him, nuzzling against your neck, "mmmmh you smell so nice..."

You kissed his knuckles and pushed your backside up against his chest as you enjoyed the heat radiating off him. His lips quickly found your shoulder and he kissed you softly before he slipped a hand under your shirt and gently cupped your breast.

You yelped loudly at his touch and pulled away from him, apparently waking up Mía in the process. She came running into the living room, immediately by your side with a small growl.

"Am I not allowed to touch you anymore?" Rafa mumbled and kissed your neck, while Mía was snarling slightly on the floor in front of you.

"Of course you are. I'm just really sore today," you whispered and let Mía lick your arm to try and calm her down, "I don't know if I bruised a nipple or something."

"Oh, I'd love to give you an examination," Rafa smirked against your neck, "but in the meantime I'll just enjoy my other friend," his fingers pinched your other nipple.

"Aw fuck, Rafa! That's really sore too!" You said loudly, making Mía bark.

Rafa sat up straight and looked down at you, "babe, are you okay?" he asked, concern flooding his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just really sore," you said, carefully examining your breast with one hand while using the other to nuzzle Mía behind her ear to get her to stop barking.

"Do you need me to get you something?" Rafa asked, ignoring Mía completely.

"No I'm fine -" you hesitated but was reminded of your snacking problem, "actually... We kinda might've run out of cheese for the pizzas."

"I bought an entire bag yesterday," he arched an eyebrow at you.

"I - uhm - I accidentally ate it all."

"You ate it all?" He chuckled, "babe, I don't mind your snacking but you're eating all of our groceries these days. What's going on with you?"

"I guess I'm just really snack-ish," you laughed and got up from the sofa, determined to finish prepping for the pizzas. Mía was silently following close by.

"Alright, I'll run to the store," Rafa said as he walked over to the closet in the hallway and pulled on a pair of sneakers and his jacket. He took a look at Mía and decided to pull out her leash too.

"Mía," he whistled and waited patiently.

Mía was sitting on the floor beside you, and when she heard Rafa call her name, she turned her head slightly, shot him a lazy look but otherwise didn't move a muscle.

"Mía!" Rafa tried one more time, and even pulled out a small treat for her, but she didn't budge.

"What's the matter with you, girl," Rafa walked to her and put her on the leash, slightly tugging her towards the front door. Mía started barking like crazy and didn't move her legs at all, causing Rafa to accidentally pull her across the floor as she slid on her paws, "what the hell is the matter with you?!" He exclaimed, "you love going outside!"

He let go of the leash, and watched Mía take a few fast-paced strides back towards the kitchen, wagging her tail vigorously when she resumed her position next to you.

"Aw, boo," you said and petted her, "you don't want to leave me, do you?"

"She's been acting crazy all week," Rafa ran a hand through his beard, "did you notice? She stays close to you and she'll barely let me touch you."

"No," you laughed, "are you sure you're not just making this up because you're jealous that your two girls are getting along so well?"

"No, I'm serious," he said and took a step closer to you, "come here, I'll show you," he said and put his hands on your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

At the touch, Mía started barking once more but stopped as soon as Rafa stepped away from you.

"Look," he said and repeated his movements while Mía resumed her barking whenever he put his hands on you.

"What's up with you, girl?" Rafa said and petted Mía behind her ear, "you're being crazy. I can touch you but I can't touch my girlfriend? Are you jealous or something?" He mumbled.

He picked up the leash, stood up straight and started tugging on Mía once more. Still, her legs didn't budge.

"Here, let me try," you said and took the leash from Rafa's hands. "Come Mía," you said softly, and started walking towards the front door with Mía trodding loyally along beside you.

"Crazy dog," Rafa mumbled behind you.

"Aw boo," you laughed when you turned around and saw Rafa's crestfallen face, "are you sad you're not the alpha anymore?"

"No, I'm wondering if I should take her to the vet. Could you keep an eye on her while I run to the store? I'm not going to force her to come along, but if she's still weird when I come home later, I'm acting on it," he said and walked over to you with intentions of giving you a goodbye kiss.

Mía started snarling the minute he was within a two-foot radius from you.

"Okay Mía, you ass," he mumbled in defeat as he stepped away from you and out the door.

"You're being silly," you petted Mía when you were finally alone and went back into the kitchen to make your famous pizza sauce.

You were opening a can of tomatoes when a horrible stench hit you like a truck. Something in the kitchen was smelling all sweet and warm and for some reason, it made you nauseous. Had the can of tomatoes gone bad? Anxiously, you inched your face closer to the open can and gave it a small sniff. Without warning you felt the heartburn, the taste of sour stomach acid thick in your mouth. It was disgusting and you had to leave the kitchen to get away from the stench of the tomatoes. Mía followed you to the bathroom were you retched and emptied the contents of your stomach. You coughed a few times and noticed Mía whimpering beside you. You petted her while whispering, "I'm okay, love. I'm good."

Desperate to get the taste of vomit out of your mouth, you opened the cabinet to fetch the toothpaste that was located next to the tampons ...speaking of tampons - weren't you supposed to be using one right now? You looked at your watch to check the date; it was the 20th.

You were four days late.

And you were never late. Fuck!

You were staring at yourself in the mirror when it all fell into place; the excessive snacking, your sore nipples, Mia being overprotective, the nausea...

...It couldn't be because...

...Could it?

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. Were you imagining a slight bump? No, you couldn't be...

Slightly panicked, you knew you wouldn't be able to think of anything else before you'd made sure, so you pulled out your phone from your back pocket, and dialled up Rafa while your pulse was quickening with each passing second.

When he finally answered his phone he sounded cheerful, "don't worry! I bought two bags," he chuckled, "snack away, my love."

"No, Rafa, I need you to get me something else," you said nervously.

"Yeah? What's up?" he asked quietly, "is everything okay?"

"Could you grab me a - uh - a pregnancy test...?" you mumbled and buried your face in your hands without really knowing why.

Rafa went completely silent on the other end, "...what do you need a pregnancy test for?" He said slowly.

"Are you serious?"

"No - uhm - just a little surprised," it sounded as if he was giving himself a mental shake, "are you sure you're...?" His voice trailed off.

"That's what the test is for, love," you said quietly.

"Of course. Of course. I'll - uhm - I'll grab you one. ...Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. Just hurry back here..." you whispered.

"I'll be as fast as I can," he mumbled before he hung up.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to imagine yourself pregnant. Carrying Rafa's child. Your future together. You hadn't been together that long. What if he didn't want this? What if you didn't want this?

How long you stood there, looking at yourself in the mirror while stroking your belly you had no idea but suddenly, you heard Rafa call for you from the hallway.

"Babe?" He sounded concerned, "where are you?"

"Bathroom," you called out to him and immediately, he came running.

"Are you - are you okay?" He panted.

You nodded, "yes. Are you?"

"A little surprised. We were so careful," he mumbled, "well apart from..."

"My birthday. I know," you sent him a look.

"Shit," he ran a hand through his hair, looking positively panicked.

"Rafa, are you okay?" You asked him carefully.

"Yes. I just don't know if I'm supposed to laugh or cry."

"Me neither," you said quietly, "I have no idea what I'm hoping for."

"We - we can talk about that later. Just... take the test," he handed you a small box.

"Now?"

"Yes," he nodded, "we have to know, right?"

"Okay," you said nervously. Of course you knew you needed to take it asap. You were just nervous about the result, "do you think you could give me some privacy?"

"I'm not leaving you," Rafa shook his head, "no chance."

"Well, if you want to strip away the very last piece of privacy between us," you said as you pulled down your shorts and sat down on the toilet.

"If you're pregnant, there are not going to be any secrets between your body and me anyway," he said slowly.

You pulled off the cap on the test and pulled it between your legs so you could pee on it.

"What do we do if it's positive?" You looked up at him as you flushed the toilet after you.

"We take it one step at a time," he nodded slowly.

"Okay," you whispered, still in a state of shock. Your heart was beating fast in your chest as you glanced at your watch, watching the seconds slowly tick by. "It's been a minute. We should check it," you picked up the test without looking at the result, "here, you do it..."

"Me? Are you sure?" He stammered.

"Yes, please Rafa. I can't do it," you whispered.

Rafa took the pregnancy test from you with a gulp and shot you a doe-eyed look before he turned his attention to the stick in his hand. Slowly, he turned it over so he could read the test result. At first, he was staring at the result with huge eyes, but slowly, his hand went to his lips and his eyes started watering.

"What does it say?" You said in a raspy voice even though you already knew.

Rafa looked up a you with a tender expression on his face, his eyes all soft and wetted with tears, "baby, you're pregnant..." he said quietly with the biggest smile on his face.

"We're having a baby?" You blinked a few times, your hands flying to your stomach. A weird bubbly feeling creeping up through your body.

"We're having a baby," he laughed and pulled you in for a bear hug, "oh my god, we're having a baby!"

And you immediately knew; this was happiness in its purest form.

[andramsimming]

Morning

I’m so sorry, that it’s been about 2 weeks since my last post. Just when I decide to do better and become more regular with my posts, life becomes a roller-coaster. First off, I’ve managed to land a job - Woop woop - and will be starting the first of December. Which is both exciting and a little scary at the same time, like most new lifechanging events. Oh... and my kitchen renovations have been dragging out, and it’s so annoying being almost at the finish line but still so far away. But if the new time plan hold up, it’ll be done by this week and my home will once again be a real home and not a construction site.

Tom had ended up staying over that night. He had slept on the couch as to not disturb McKenna. She had looked so peaceful as she slept and he was afraid to wake her. She had offered him the spot next to her, before she fell asleep, but he felt it best to sleep on the couch.

McKenna woke up to the smell of pancakes and coffee. She shook her head and looked at clock. Oh no! She was late for work. McKenna jumped up of bed and almost fell over Theo, who was bringing the newspaper. “Sorry, Bud! But I’m really late for work” McKenna ruffled Theos ears and headed towards the bathroom. She quickly washed herself and made herself presentable. McKenna rushed downstairs and almost fell down the last step, as Tom’s voiced surprised her.  “Ah!... Topolina, come enjoy breakfast. Did you sleep well?” McKenna smiled, “Thanks, Tom, but I’m really late for work and I can’t afford loosing my job”. Tom smiled back and shook his head. “No Topolina, I called your workplace and arranged for you to get the next couple of days off. I might have invented a dear old aunt, who suddenly passed away and you needing to go help your family with funeral plans”. McKenna was shocked. “You didn’t!” She exclaimed shocked but couldn’t help but smile to herself.  “Oh yes I did” Tom responded, “Now come eat your pancakes. I’ve got big plans for us today”.

[reluctant-mandalore]

Clan of Two Week 2021 (Day 3): Lullabies

It’s nighttime on the Razor Crest, and the Mandalorian and the Child head to bed. Though it seems like the little one will need a lullaby to help him go to sleep. 

Warnings: fluff, family fluff, found family, din being a great dad, not beta read

Word Count: 1130

Pairing: No Pairing!

a/n: woops, I finished this the other day but forget to post. This is day 3 of @clanoftwoweek​, hoping to catch up and get the other ones I’m missing out soon!! 

“Grogu it’s time for bed.”

The Mandalorian’s words had caused for a sad coo to leave the child. His large ears soon lowering while he had stared up at the man with desperate and pleading eyes. Clearly the little one didn’t want to go to bed anytime soon, instead wanting to continue playing with his toys and games. Although cute, the man wouldn’t budge to his plea, and had only continued his encouragement of getting the child to bed.

“Don’t give me that look.” Din had said rather fondly, before he had patted the child’s head as he continued to speak, “Now come on, let’s pick up your toys and head to bed.”

Grogu had let out a grumble this time, though he did as he was told, waddling around and helping the man put away his toys into the wooden chest. He had pouted during the whole ordeal, and the sight of the little frown had made the Mandalorian hold back a chuckle.  

Once everything was in order, Din had scooped up the child into his arms, and went to get him ready for bed. This had meant helping the little creature brush his teeth and change into some of his nighttime clothes. Tonight the kid had picked out a frog onesie, babbling in excited gibberish at being put into the warm and soft garment.  

“You really like this one, don’t you?” He had said as he adjusted the fabric so it fit properly on the child. The little one only cooing happily and shaking his arms from joy in response to the man’s question. A sight which had managed to melt his heart all in one go, as he gently tickled the child’s sides, and allowed for him to let out a shrill of giggles. “Well aren’t you just the cutest little frog.”

Letting the child’s laughter die down, Din had soon tucked him into his hammock, making sure that the blankets were snug around the little one. He had murmured a few soft praises, reminding the child of how much he was loved and cared for, before going to settle himself down onto the cot below.

“Good night Grogu.”

The Mandalorian had said softly, smiling at the sound of the child cooing back to him. Satisfied with the response, he had rolled to his side, pulling his own blanket around him tightly, as he tried to will himself to sleep.

Both of them had laid in silence for a while, the darkness of the ship pooling around them and trying to engulf them into the rest they both needed. Though soon that quietness had been broken by the sounds of the child shifting within his own bed, the rustling of sheets and quiet babbling soon breaking through the peacefulness of the night.

The sound had brought Din away from the brink of sleep, and he had rolled over to peer up at the little one above him again. The child appeared to be restless, tossing and turning, as he tried to snuggle himself comfortably into the sheets. No matter what the small creature had tried though, didn’t seem to work, as he had huffed and whimpered tiredly in the process. Clearly wanting to sleep, but not finding himself able too.  

Din had soon sat up, yawning and stretching as he did. The movement from the man had caused for the child to peer at him from under the blanket, his ears lowering at the thought that he had bothered the bounty hunter. The realization of this—combined with the worry held within the child’s gaze—had only broken his heart and had made him want comfort the little creature even more.

“What’s wrong?” He had asked gently, moving so he was leveled with the little one as he spoke, allowing his hand to brush his fingers soothingly along the child’s back to hopefully relax him again. “Can’t sleep?”

Grogu had hummed tiredly in agreement, his worry disappearing at seeing that Din held no anger or disappointment towards the child for waking him. The little one had even let out his own yawn, allowing it to echo out into the small space, as his ears twitched lazily. He had nuzzled into his father’s hand at the gentle reassurance, finding comfort at the gesture and seeking out his warmth in the process. His need for his father’s presence and attention growing the longer he went without sleep.

Din had smiled from seeing this, his own features softening, as he found himself moving to cradle the child in his arms again. Taking the little one from the hammock and down to the cot below with him. The little creature had of course beamed with joy at being held within his father’s arms. Soon snuggling his tiny face into the man’s chest, as they were both settled in among the blankets of the cot. A content sigh leaving him at being cuddled with the man he adored so much.  

Din had only hummed at first as he leaned back against the pillow with the child laid out across his chest. Though all too soon he had allowed for the familiar song of his childhood to leave his lips in quiet waves. A gentle lullaby his father had once sang to him when he was child himself and had struggled to sleep as well. He had sung it on occasion for the child, though at times felt embarrassed at the scratchiness of his voice. The child seemed to not care about how his voice sounded though, instead finding that the little creature enjoyed hearing him sing just as he did any other night.

As the tune had ended, Din had glanced down to the child still nestled in his arms. A sigh of relief leaving him, as a pleased smile crossed his lips at the sight of the little one now sleeping peacefully within his hold. He had soon settled in more among the sheets, careful to not wake the child in the process, as he had laid them both down more comfortably onto the cot.

The Mandalorian had stayed still afterwards, and silently watched the child sleep for a moment. His eyes taking in the gentle rise and fall of the kid's chest, while his ears had listened intently to the little one’s soft snores. He had found it to be a calming and reassuring sight, one that had made his own eyes begin to droop the longer he watched. Soon, he had even found himself drifting off closer to his own rest, all while having the child remaining cuddled into his chest. The sound of that cherished lullaby of his still dancing within his dreams, and being the last thing he remembered, as he finally joined the child in sleep that night.  

[bomberqueen17]

scattershot

i am tired, the thing with having been at work so much the last 2 weeks at the office job is that there’s no moving at the office job so i am at this point so atrophied i’m like a brain in a jar and now i am at the farm trying to use my human body to do things on this physical plane and it’s some bullshit is what it is, brains in jars aren’t good at scrubbing things.

also for some reason most of the skin sloughed off my fingertips like a shedding snake? like-- it’s not gross, it’s not painful, there was like, perfectly fine good skin underneath? but like? why? did my fingers? do that??? this is not normally how I exfoliate. I almost wrote defenestrate there. Not the same word, B.

but on the upside, it was chilly last night and oh my gosh I got Such Good Sleep?? I did not expect that. I zonked out at like 10:30 and then I woke up like, Ready For Action, at 5:45. Even though I’m dimly aware there were some cat shenanigans in there somewhere, I just did not care and it didn’t matter and seems to have resolved itself.

So-- re having no socks, it warmed up so I could be in flip-flops today. That’s one day, saved. Tomorrow I do have one pair of socks I can wear, for slaughter day, so that’ll be okay. Beyond that it’ll have to be played by ear. I appreciate everyone’s sympathy, but do feel free to laugh about it.

Woop Farmkid is Done Watching TV and it is Time For Child Shenanigans, laterz!

[no-whump-on-main]

Apartment 307-7 (This is for Your Own Good)

this is for your own good-requested by @magpiewhump

TWs: Heavy chapter overall. Creepy, sadistic whumper, noncon nonsexual touching, branding, victim-blaming, passing thought of emeto but none actually shown, thoughts of death

Clyde started to worry about Elora when she still hadn’t woken back up at six p.m when he got back from work, over ten hours after she passed out due to him completely exhausting her magic. He walked in and checked on her the very moment after he put his things down on the kitchen counter, and there she was, still passed out, curled up on her side like a little terrified animal. He left, deciding to let her sleep some more-he was concerned, of course, but not terribly so. She did seem rather drained when he left. He would’ve loved to spend the evening with her, but he resolved to show a little sympathy and let her sleep. Still, he checked on her about every hour, only to find her still passed out in the exact same position every single time. He began to get irritated when she still wasn’t up around eleven-he just wanted to sleep, at that point, but he was worried she’d wake up at any moment and start causing a scene. Screaming, trying to escape, doing whatever it was she did-hell, he didn’t know. She was unpredictable.

He still didn’t even know what he thought about her. He was fascinated, of course, by her magic, by her mere life-that’s why he had to have her-but he still didn’t know how he felt about her as a person. She was awfully stubborn and had terrible language for a young woman, but she was beautiful, exquisitely so, especially when her eyes were watery with tears and she had that determined expression despite the fear he knew was crippling her.

God, he just wanted to break her. He wanted to study her first and foremost, of course, but as a side project of sorts, he wanted to see that iron resolution dissolve, just like that, because of him.

He decided to head to sleep, freshening up in his master bath before heading to sleep. His room was nothing special; it smelled like a mix of dirty bath mats and moth balls, and all it really had for furniture was a desk on the verge of collapsing, a mattress on the floor, and boxes that still hadn’t been unpacked despite him having moved in over a decade ago.

But that night, he went to sleep happy, unbothered by the chaos and dirty apartment and his seemingly menial life. Because he knew what to do. He had direction, for once. Elora brought him that. She was like a quest, a puzzle to solve, and he’d had a eureka moment. To break her, he’d have to teach her that she wasn’t her own anymore. That she was his, because clearly, she’d been struggling with the concept.

And he knew exactly how to do it.

~

When Elora woke up, she felt like she was having the worst hangover she'd ever experienced, multiplied by ten. She was dizzy, her mouth was dry, and a pounding headache had settled in the back of her skull, each throb feeling like a firework exploding inside her head.

It was pitch black, not a single ray of light coming in from the crack underneath the door, so she assumed that it was either the middle of the night or early morning. That meant she slept for, god-eighteen, twenty hours? That was probably half of why she felt like shit. Draining her body of all the energy it had like that was both excruciatingly painful and awfully exhausting. It was also decidedly horrible for her body-she was never supposed to work herself like that. Hell, she wasn’t sure how she even survived exerting that much.

At the very least, she had some time to herself. It was nice to be alone for a while, to recoup between sessions of vicious torture.

She sat back against the wall, staring up at the pitch black ceiling. Time was fuzzy, but she thought it was...Tuesday, now? So her mom certainly knew she was gone, and she had told the police, and they were looking for her.

She hoped. She just-she really, really hoped that someone was coming for her soon. Before anything worse happened, while she could still come back from it. While she could still come home alive, herself, shaken, but herself.

She ended up dozing off for a few minutes and waking up again a few times as the hours passed by, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She knew exactly when the sun was rising; the crack underneath the door slowly began to get less dark, going from black, to an inky gray, to a pale orange, and finally, to real yellow light. A little sliver of a sunrise. Even after just a couple of days, she missed the sun. The bathroom was windowless, and that alone made it suffocating. She’d do anything, pay any amount of money in the world, just to go outside, see a sunrise, and breathe. Just breathe, for a moment, just catch her breath.

As excited as she wanted to be about the taste of a sunrise, all she felt was dread. Every morning she’d been awake to see the pattern, so far, she’d noted that he came in just after sunrise.

So she only had a few minutes, then.

She just hoped that he would make the pain brief.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply when she heard his footsteps pattering down the hallway, exhaling when she heard the doorknob turn.

He flicked the light switch on and the sudden brightness hurt her eyes, so much so that she quickly wrenched them shut. And when he spoke, it felt like his voice was booming, much louder than it actually was. She wanted to cover her ears, but resisted the urge, much too scared to take out another sense and be so vulnerable to him.

He acknowledged her reactions with a hum, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Jeez, you’ve been out for a while. It’s about time you woke up. What’s the face for? You okay?”

Elora shook her head, replying bitterly. “Not supposed to use that much magic. Feels kinda like a really bad hangover.” He always smelled like cheap beer. Maybe he’d have some sympathy for that.

“Mh. You’ll be fine. We have things to do today.”

Elora opened her eyes, at that point, looking over at him despite the deep burning sensation in her eyes. He was holding something behind his back, out of her view.

“I-I’ll do what you want,” she said shakily. “Whatever magic shit. I don’t care. We can-h-how about we just act symbiotically, huh? I’ll do whatever you want and you just don’t hurt me. Easy deal on your end, really.”

The man scoffed. “Funnily enough, I actually don’t need anything from you today. Just for you to stay still and be a good girl. I’ve got something to teach you.”

Her throat felt like it was coated in honey. She wanted to spit back that the last thing she would ever do is be a good girl, but she couldn’t form words. It was hard to breathe properly. She knew she was panicking. What did he mean?

Casually, he revealed what was behind his back. It looked like a big pen, with a long cord on one tapered end and a thick, linear metal tip on the other. He plugged the cord into the wall and set it down. Dimly, Elora wondered where she’d seen a weird pen like that. She knew it seemed familiar, it was for crafts, but she couldn’t remember quite what it was for. She blinked, her panic slowing her thoughts-

Woodburning. It was used for woodburning.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, her eyes instantly tearful as she looked on in pure horror, knowing what was going to be done to her. Clyde basked in her terror, grinning as he watched realization and fear strike her.

She was frozen, shocked into silence, so he took the opportunity to speak first. “You seem to be having a hard time with the concept that you’re mine. And what better way to mark that something is yours other than putting your name on it? That’s how I get my coworkers to stop eating my tuna salad from the community fridge.” He stopped to laugh at his own joke. No one liked tuna salad but him. His coworkers would never touch it. Elora looked utterly terrified. He didn’t care a bit, and went on. “But of course, you don’t need to know who I am. You don’t need my name. All you need to worry your pretty little head about is being good for me, got it? So what better than to teach you than to just mark you as mine?”

As panicked as she was, Elora suddenly went into survival mode, no longer able to just stand there and wait to be hurt. “NO!” she screamed. “No, please, I c-can learn! Please, you don’t need to do that. I-I-I told you, I’ll do what you want today, please!”

The man grinned, wagging his pointer finger at her. “Uh-uh-uh. We’re past that, little lark. You already showed me that you don’t know who you belong to when you so rudely refused to do as I told you with the plant and adamantly denied to heal yourself up until I made you.”

He stepped towards her, and she screamed, scrambling back to the other side of the bathtub. It didn’t do much, of course; he was still able to grab her just as easily. She kept screeching, and she fought, she fought tooth and nail, scratching, kicking, trying to bite him, but nothing worked. She was already getting weaker by the day.. He managed to unlock her handcuffs and lift her out of the tub within a minute, completely stopping her desperate fight when he threw her down on the hard tile by the sink where the pen was plugged into an outlet, knocking the breath out of her. She sputtered and coughed, trying to roll on her side, but before she could, he stopped her, straddling her waist, pinning her legs down with his own, and both her arms with his left, pulled tightly across her chest, his elbow digging into her right arm, keeping it in place, and his hand holding down her left. With his right hand, he grabbed the woodburner, the cord just long enough to reach down to the floor.

He frowned as he looked down at her screaming, thrashing form, then put the burner down. For a moment, Elora thought she was free. She thought she was free, she thought he was safe, she thought he reconsidered, she thought he wouldn’t do it.

“Woops. Forgot a step. You’re too damn much of a fighter.” Instead of letting her go like she wished, he fumbled to unbutton all three buttons on the top of her polo shirt. She felt like vomiting the entire time his fingers brushed against the skin of her chest, undoing the buttons painfully slowly, one by one. She shivered, but the room felt hot.

He picked up the burner again. “This is for your own good,” he said, his voice gruff and firm. He pulled her unbuttoned shirt to his right and brought the hot metal tip down upon her left collarbone.

The agony was blinding. She saw pure white as she screamed, keening, much louder than she had been before. She dimly felt the pain move up against her skin as the woodburner stroked upwards, then down diagonally, then up again diagonally, then back down. It left a trail of searing, red-hot pain. M. Mine.

Three more letters to go, and she already felt more blinding pain than she thought was possible.

Clyde frowned at her screaming, briefly putting the woodburner to the side, exchanging the pain for a gentle touch, softly running his hand through her hair. She continued screaming and tried to wiggle away from his hand, yet he ignored her blatant discomfort.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Quiet, my darling, it’ll be over soon.”

His words were far from comforting, though her screams did stop for all but a moment. They continued when he brought the woodburner back to her skin, drawing out an I, three torturous burning strokes. She thought she might pass out, might vomit, might die, the pain was so bad.

“Halfway there,” he said gently, when he finished burning the I into her skin. His voice had become gentle, kind. She didn’t understand it. “Shh, you’re alright. I had to do this, you know. This is for you. To help you learn.”

She shook her head madly, tears falling down her face and onto the tile floor. “Stop,” she croaked, her voice breaking. “Please, stop.”

He seemed genuinely apologetic. Maybe this was too much for him, too. Or maybe it was all an act. Elora couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. We’re halfway done already. It would be strange to stop here, with half of a word, no?”

And with that, he went on, with just as much brutal carelessness for her pain.

N. She had been switching between staring up at the ceiling blankly and squeezing her eyes shut while he branded her, but she was looking up for this letter, watching the ceiling spin, watching black spots dot her vision, watching as she slipped in and out of consciousness for a few seconds at the time.

She couldn’t even say that she was getting used to it. It hurt just as much now, a minute later, as it had when he started.

The smell started to catch up with her halfway through the N. It was awful, the overwhelmingly sickening scent seeping in and filling her nostrils. She couldn’t escape it. She had to breathe, had to inhale the scent of her burning flesh. There was no choice.

Just as the last upward stroke of the N danced like fire across her skin, the man’s hand carded through her hair again, his fingers rubbing her scalp kindly.

“Almost done, honey. Almost done. You’re doing great.”

She didn’t even have the strength to shake her head. She wasn’t his honey, she wasn’t doing great, this wasn’t for her, it was for him, he was crazy-

Her screams began to die out, her throat burning and raw, begging for air. They turned to weak, sobs, her expression twisted with agony.

E. A stroke up, one to the side at the top of that, another sidestroke in the middle, another at the bottom. She started to feel like she was up on the ceiling, floating. She couldn’t handle this.

What she felt was more than pain. She didn’t know how to describe it. But it was much, much worse than any sort of pain she knew. The burning agony mixed with the scent of her charred flesh in the air, the sensation of the man’s weight on top of her, his hand in her hair, his fingers unbuttoning her shirt combined to create the the most horrific thing she’d ever felt.

It was a new kind of misery. Something much worse than she even knew existed.

She gasped for air as the man slowly eased off of her, her chest finally able to expand properly. He let her arms go first, as a trial. She didn’t make any attempt to retaliate, so he got off of her legs, too, and stood. She laid there, half disassociated. The pain was too much for her to bear. Even though the woodburner was no longer directly on her skin, it still hurt just as much as when the hot metal had been making direct contact with her collarbone. It was still pure, utter agony.

“Remember,” the man’s voice boomed. “This was for you. You chose this, with your actions.”

She didn’t shake her head no, but she didn’t agree, either. She stayed perfectly still, right where she was, sobbing. She just sobbed. That was all she could do.

“Ice,” she begged weakly, her voice hoarse from her screams.

The man chuckled. “Oh, no, sweetie, no can do. Don’t want you getting any sort of first aid. I need it to scar as much as possible. That was the whole point.” He chuckled. Another sob ripped from her throat, and he began to feel slightly guilty.

“Here. I can do something for you. He opened the bathroom door and left, the burning flesh scent thankfully beginning to waft out. Elora knew that she should have gotten up and ran for the door the moment he left. She knew that she was missing what was probably her only chance to escape.

But she couldn’t make herself do it. She couldn’t make herself move.

He was back a few moments later, with a pillow and a blanket from his bed. He lifted her head up and placed the pillow beneath beneath it, shielding it from the hard tile. He draped the blanket over her body, smoothing it down around her with care. She’d be disgusted by his falsified kindness if she weren’t so distracted by the pain.

“And I’ll let you stay uncuffed for a while. I’m sorry, Elora, I really am, but this was the only way. You and I both know that. I’ll have to call out of work, can’t trust you alone and unchained. But that’s fine. I’ll just stay right here until you’re feeling a little better.”

He slid down the wall and sat across from her. All he could see on her face was pure sorrow. She didn’t sleep, despite the pillow and blanket; she wasn’t tired. She just hurt. She lay there, limp, weak, and crying, the pillowcase soaking up her silent tears as she pressed her mouth into a tight, thin line.

Clyde stared at her for several minutes then sighed and lit a cigarette. They’d be here for a while.

Tags: @exploringspaceinpyjamas

@badthingshappenbingo

[eldritch-araneae]

Okay here is a thing I wrote last night. I was thinking about how Bumblebee and Echo ( Spike’s reincanation) would meet and here it is)) 

It takes place in future, after the war and Bumblebee’s reforging. Venus and Mars are terrraformed/cyberformed and colonised. 

---

The Detroit Interplanetary Spaceport is busy as usual. Bumblebee is making his way towards the shuttle that is heading to Venus. He wants to go home after a long week he spent doing serious work on Mars. Sometimes being the Senior Life Warden is just like that.

But this is Earth, so what he is doing here?

He was visiting Spike's grave like he does every year for 134 years. Though "grave" really is a huge tree now as humans stopped burying their bodies in caskets in order to preserve them, instead they return them back to nature after death.

Bumblebee still misses the human that he saw as his split spark twin, but he accepted his passing and made peace with this pain. 

Suddenly someone bumps into him from behind. The beastformer turns around and sees a taller mech with bright green optics.

"Woops, sorry!" they apologize but then some unexpected happen. As mech took a good look at Bee, they froze in place, staring into his optics. Bumblebee found himself staring back at them. A strange feeling fills his spark as he senses what the other is feeling right now. 

A sense of familiarity? 

Or even affection? 

Did they meet before?

Sure Bumblebee created them, but rarely meets new mechs in person. 

"Ah! I’m sorry again!" the mech was the first to snap out. "I didn't mean to stare!" they laugh awkwardly.

Bumblebee smiles, he is not upset over this. He used to the fact that people would look at him all the time. After all, he’s is a walking legend.

"That's alright. Are you okay though? Judging by force you collided into me it was quite a fall." he looks carefully at them, looking for injures, and noticed the cassette deck on their chest. 

A cassette carrier, quite a rarity among frame types. Bumblebee notices 5 more sparks pulsing slowly. He smiles a bit, they must be asleep. 

"I’m okay!" the carrier reassures him as they place their hand on the back of their head. "I just got distracted and tripped over my own foot."

Bumblebee snorts. " Careful, you don't wanna wake your 5 sleeping cassettes!"

The mech's optics widened. "Woah! The tales of you are true? You can sense sparks?!" 

Before Bumblebee could reply, the voice announces that the shuttle to the Venus will depart soon.

"Shit! I’m gonna miss the shuttle!" both mechs exclaimed at the same time in panic. They exchanged looks with realization. In the next second Bumblebee grabs the other by the hand and two idiots are springing towards the right gate. 

--

The two made it just in time. They sat next to each other as the shuttle began to ascend into the sky. 

Then it went through the Space Bridge, allowing them to teleport the second planet of the Solar System almost immediately. But those shuttles are like space buses: travel to the planet is fast, but it has a lot of stops on the planet itself. Bumblebee's stop is the last one on this route, so it will take a while. 

Well, perhaps he can keep talking to a green-eyed mech. He just met them, but something tells him they will be friends!

"By the way, I'm Echo." seems like they have the same feeling. 

 "Bumblebee." he introduces himself, despite everyone knowing his name. Manners are still manners. "Nice to meet you~" 

They spent their time talking about random stuff as stops go by. 

--

"By the way, what happened to you when you forged my generation? Cassettes and I wanted to meet you, but we were told you got sick?"

"I did!" Bumblebee snorts. "Apparently creating around 500 species of flora and fauna, then forging over 100 cybertronians in one day is bad for my health."

"Why did you do that?! I mean you gotta rest!" Echo was horrified by Bumblebee's self-neglect.

"Overenthusiasm." a simple reply sends both of them into a laughing fit.

--

"Also, Jupiter sounds lately like it’s choking or something." Echo muses over their latest recording of electromagnetic vibrations, coming from other celestial objects in Solar System. "I wonder why."

"It’s probably still mad over the fact that Starscream convinced me to steal its moons for Mars and Venus." Bumblebee jokes.

"You did WHAT?!" 

--

"Sometimes it still feels so weird how I just came into being and already had 5 children! I just got born and already have responsibilities.”

"Mood!"

--

They kept talking until Echo realized they missed their stop. 

"Oh dear, this is my fault, I'm sorry!" Bumblebee apologizes, feeling bad for distracting his new friend. He should have asked where Echo's stop is, to begin with, but they were enjoying each other’s company so much they didn't notice the passage of time.

"That’s okay, I really should have paid attention to the announcements." they sigh, clearly not happy about this. That means they gotta get off at the next stop and wait for the next shuttle on the way back. Which will take a while.

"I will make this up for you!” Bumblebee says with determination igniting in his optics.”How about you stay at my place and go home tomorrow? We have a room and enough space for cassettes too!" Bumblebee invites them while typing a message to Windblade and Sari that he’s bringing a friend. 

"Awww, you're too kind!" Echo smiles. Normally they would decline an invitation from a stranger, but for some reason, Bumblebee doesn't feel like one. "Thank you very much! I hope other Life Wardens won’t mind." 

Bumblebee looks at replies from home and grins. "Oh, believe me, they are totally fine with you~"

They proceed to entertain each other until the last stop.

[rueren]

3 𝓪𝓶 ~ 𝓡.𝓣𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓴𝓪

warnings : #none #this shits cute  #swearing #sneaking out(?)

content: prev. established relationship. basically he misses you and you guys go out at 3 am.

word count : 2513

pairings : Tanaka Ryūnosuke x reader

Finally.  Sleep at last.  It took so long to go to bed; the anime you had been waiting for for so long had finally dropped its first season at 6 pm, and you binged your way through the whole thing.  So by the time your head hit the pillow it was …. 1 am?  Not too bad, you thought to yourself as your head finally hit the pillow. 

Tap.  Tap.  Tap.  Your brows furrowed, still groggy from sleep.  That stupid tree branch.  You knew you should've told someone that it's gotten dangerously close to your window.  First thing in the morning, then. 

Tap.  Tap.  Tap tap tap.  It became more insistent.  Your blood rushed to your ears.  It's just the tree branch... Right?  Remnants of sleep leaving your system, your nerves were on end.  Slowly, your head peeked out from under your covers, twisting towards your window, without your body moving an inch.  There seemed to be no shadow of anything, so you stood up slowly, and grabbed the bat you left under your bed.  

You slid across the wall and made your way over to the window.  Still, nothing could be seen from outside.  Your ears filled with the sound of your pulse, you forced your hand to the latch that unlocks the window, and threw it open, and at the same time swung the bat out the opening.  

“What the fuck, babe” a voice cried from the other side of the window followed by scuffling.  Your ears picked up at the sound, and you threw your curtains to the side. 

“Ryu?” You said exasperated, breathing heavy from the adrenaline.  “What the hell are you doing here, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Answer your phone once in your life, and you won't get scared,” He heaved, hand over his chest, “I almost died, you know.  Your damn bat literally grazed my lashes.” 

“My phone…what are you talking about?”, you stomped your way over to your phone, “You never called me, what are you talking about…” 4 missed calls and 12 messages.  

You turned around, sporting a guilty smile, to see your boyfriend staring at you, eyes sharp, and lips curled in a sly smirk.  “Gonna say something?” 

“You gonna come in or you want me to come out?” You avoided the question, rubbing your eye and pulling down your shirt over your pajama pants.  

“Come sit out here with me, it's pretty,” he smiled, pulling his hood off.  You crawled out your window onto the  small sliver of roof, ducking under the branch that pressed up against your window.  He held out his hand for you to stabilize yourself as you sat down beside him, tucked into his side.  

You tilted your head back to look up at his face.  It’s amazing how often it would slip your mind how good looking he actually was. His face had a tinge of pink to it from the crisp fall night air, his nose red from being nipped by the cold.  Sharp eyes with stars dancing in them as he watched the night sky, his jaw just as sharp.  With his chaotic personality, it was almost impossible  to forget just how serene moments like this with him are.  

He noticed you looking up at him, and hummed in response, squeezing his arm around you before running his knuckles along the bare skin of your arm. “Whatchu lookin at, huh,”  his smirk replaced the calmer expression he previously had on, and you rolled your eyes and poked his ribs.

“So why are you here?”  You quirked up a brow, “It’s the middle of the night, shouldn't you be home?”

“Yeah, but Saeko’s got friends over and they're so freakin’ loud I can’t even hear my own thoughts” He grumbled, his head gets thrown back and it thunps against the bricks of your house. 

“Don’t act like you were even sleeping, you liar,” You laughed.  “And aren’t you used to this by now?  She's always got people over.  You sleep like a log, anyway.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Okay fine.  But do I really need a reason to wanna come over?” 

“At 2 am, yeah.” Your hand cupped his face and his cheeks squished together.  Even under the darkness, you could see his face go red, and not just from the cold.  His eyes wandered everywhere but to yours.  

It was cute, you always thought. How even after dating for so long, he’d still get bashful and turn into a blushing mess over the smallest things.  Things you’ve done multiple times, he would randomly get flustered over.  Hugs, kisses, small intimate moments.  You fell for him more each passing day, if it was even possible to fall for someone that hard.

“Well, too bad.  I don’t have a reason.  I came to see you just because I can,” He puffed out his chest, and your hand slipped.  He smiled,  “I’m just that nice of a boyfriend.”

“You came here with no reason?  Then what are we gonna do, stare at each other?”

“If you let me, yeah.” He said.  Now your own face flushed. It didn’t even make sense how the same boy who would randomly get flustered over a hug coils say things like that with such ease.  He didn’t even realize what they did to you, which made them affect you that much more.

“Oh my god, shut up,” You mumbled, shoving your face into your hands and falling into his chest. His laugh rang through you, shaking in chest, and his arms wrapped around you again, pulling you close out of the cold.  

“You’re freezing, oh my god I’m so stupid,” He panics, and nudges you to move for a minute. “Here, take this.” He pulls off the puffer jacket he’s got on and draped it over you, leaving him in his olive green hoodie.

“You’re not cold?” You ask, pulling the collar closer to your chin.  He shook his head, “I’m good. Got a shirt under this,” he motioned to the hoodie.

“Weirdo, who wears shirts under their sweaters,” you stuck your tongue out at him, and he flicks your forehead. He pulled your legs over his own, and tucked you back into his side.

A stray cat wandered underneath the lamp post across the street, no cars in sight.  The silence was welcomed, both just enjoying each other's presence for a while.  Your schedules had gotten really hectic, with his team going to nationals in a few weeks.  You honestly couldn't have been any more proud of him. 

“Just missed you, you know” He muttered.  His temple rested against the crown of your head, tugging your legs even further across his own, hand on your thigh.  “Missed you so much. Practice is a lot.  I love it, you know that.  The guys are all great, amazing.  They all work so hard, so I can't just .. not work as hard as them, you know.” He kissed your head, and you look back up at him, your hand going to hold his.

“You’re doing so great,” a chaste kiss is pressed to the back of his hand. “You work so hard,” another kiss to his other.  “I know everyone's so proud of you,” a kiss to his forehead. “And you have no idea,” to his cheek, “How proud you make me,” his other cheek.  “Never wanna imagine my life without you,” and finally to his lips. 

His hands seemed frozen in place for a minute, before going to the small of your back, pulling you in further.  Your hands find purchase on the sides of his face, thumbs caressing his cheek bones.

You missed him. It's been over a week since you guys hung out outside of school, and even then it was cut short sometimes by practice.  Not that you would ever hold it against him.  He tries his best, he really does.  His team relies on him. He relies on them.  The way he is on the court - it's like he’s a different person.  It’s all the best qualities of him brought to the surface.  Determined, stubborn, loyal, reliable, uplifting.  Everything you loved about him.  

What felt like hours later you pulled apart, and rested your foreheads against one another.  He smiled before pecking your lips one last time.  

“Okay, I know what we're doing.” He smiled proudly.  Your eyes followed him as he made his way to stand up on the small sliver of your roof on your side of the house.  

“Going to sleep?” you said, as he held out a hand to get you up. 

His head shook, “Nope, corner store.”

“What?” 

“Corner store.  You know, that place that sells buns and drinks and snacks and shit,” once you're on your feet, he hops over onto the tree by your room.  You watch him, mouth still open in confusion as you watch him climb down.  When he’s down on the ground, he looks back up at you, and beckons you down to him.  “C'mon babe, come down.”

“Are you crazy, I can't climb down that thing.”

“Sure you can,”  he says, grinning.  “You do it all the time.”

“Not in this dark!”

“I’ll catch you, don't worry.” 

Mulling it over in your head, you eventually rolled your eyes and gave in.  “Gimme a sec.”

“Hurry up, baby.”

“Shh, not so loud!”

“Woops, sorry.” He smiled, a toothy grin flashing up at you, swinging back and forth on his heels.  He whisper-yelled, “Hurry up!”

You ducked back into your house to check if your parents were still asleep.  When you saw them snoring away in their rooms, you crept back downstairs to grab a random pair of shoes. Back in your room, you picked up the first hoodie you could find - Tanaka’s old one, all black with a red pocket on the front  - and your phone and wallet.  You scoot your way out the window, pulling it down without locking it.

Climbing down the tree was so much harder than he made it look.  He stuck his arms out to you on the last branch, and you half jumped half kicked off the tree trunk.  He caught you with little problem, and the two of you ran down the street light lit road, stumbling over your own two feet.  

***

The fluorescent lights flickered.  You grabbed the bag of chips from the corner and tossed it into the corner of the cart by your foot.  Tanaka grabed another bag you pointed to that was out of your reach and dropped it on your head.  You cover your head too late, and tilt your head all the way back to glare at him.  In one swift motion he's grabbing your chin and leaning down to kiss you, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip once before pulling away. 

Your eyes stay closed for a second longer than his ego should witness.  Once they open, you can literally see his eyes shining and that stupid grin plastered right across his face.  

“Push this damn cart, Ryu.” you laugh and turn around in the cart, so that you're facing him with your back at the opposite end of it.  “I want candy.”

“Of course, what am I a heathen?” He shoves the cart and lets you glide for a while, your eyes widening in a plea for him to not let you knock into anything.  “It’s not a 3 am snack run without candy, duh.”  He catches up to the cart and stopped it before you rolled into a stack of toilet paper.  He avoided the glare you sent him, and turned you guys into the next aisle.  

You pulled out your phone to take a video of him studying the candy aisle, talking to himself.  The second the video starts, you’re instantly reminded of the fact that you had to put your flash on earlier, and bright light shines into his face abruptly, ruining your plan.  He covers his eyes before grabbing the camera and turning it to the two of you and a squeal leaves your lips.  Cupping your chin again, he’s tilting your lips up towards him and right before smashing them to yours, the question leaves his mouth. 

“This okay?” You nod, your stomach doing flips. He stays there smiling down at you, too long for your liking, and you take the initiative, grabbing the drawstrings of his hoodie in your hands and using it to tug him down to meet you.

You don’t see it but his eyes widen from the abruptness of it all.  He may seem smooth, but whenever you one up him he’s flustered all over again. He recovered though, tongue sweeping over your lips, gaining access and then sweeping over your own tongue.  He’s hovering over you, bent so far over due to his height. He’s got a hand holding the railing of the cart, so he doesn't fall over, the other’s got the phone still pointed towards you, and you can feel the light of the flash on the back of your eyelids.  

You don’t pull apart until you hear shuffling from behind you, and you pull back long enough to see some dude trying to get by.  You immediately push Tanaka back, who’s eyes flutter open, and see the dude glaring at you both.  A meek “sorry man” slips his mouth and he turns to grab the cart and move you both out of the aisle.  

Once you've both left the aisle you look at each other and muffle your laughs into your hands.  Tanaka’s got the camera pointed at you, as you laugh in that sleepy state you're both in.  He smiles as you cover your face with your hand stretched outwards to block it from the camera.  He motions for you to come closer, and the metal bars of the cart digging into your knees as you lean over closer to him.  Another kiss presses to your lips, this time less intense.  Softer, loving, more meaning.  He pulls away and looks at your eyes, your own mind still reeling from all of his straight forwardness today.

He pushed you both to the front to pay for your items, the cashier half asleep himself when he’s scanning your items.  The walk back, he’s got his arm around your shoulder and holding your plastic bag with the chips and candy in it.   You’ve got your own arm slung around his waist and you walk together, passing one of the drinks you bought between you two, laughing and talking about anything and nothing.  

You’re talking about something that happened in your class yesterday, and he’s watching you, listening to you.  But somewhere in your story, he doesn't hear you anymore.  All he hears is his heartbeat in his ears.  All he sees is the stars in your eyes, the way the light dances across your skin, the way your head tilts back as you laugh at whatever you were remembering.  

You look up at him and your lips tilt up to the side, “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course.  That dude said something to Noya and he said something back and ... yeah,” He grabbed you down in a headlock, laughing.  When you came back up you rip his beanie off his head and place it on your own.  You stick your tongue out at him, before saying “Ugh now I gotta start over.”

“If it means I get to listen to your voice some more, I should just pretend I don’t hear you every time.” 

“Lover boy,” You scrunch up your face and kiss his cheek, and he makes a mental note to not take back the beanie when he drops you off at home “Anyways, basically what happened was...” 

And its this moment, at 3 am, on a deserted street, with you in his old hoodie and his hat, when he realizes that the only thing that matters any more is you.  That he doesn’t do anything to fuck up what you two have.  He can’t afford to do anything to fuck it up, because he knows this is it for him.  You’re it for him.  Always will be.