#I just made them worse XD

[partywithoutsmiling]

Is there any way to turn Branch back into a troll? Do they need to destroy strings or is Branch stuck in beast form forever?

Of course there is~

There are tidbits of the AU I havent shared (things like what the Strings are actually doing and why is Branch affected, though there are hints alluding to it in my previous lore dumps) and one of those things is the ending of the AU itself

For Branch, it will get worse before it gets better, but dw, he will not be staying a bat-beast forever.

Is the destruction of the Strings needed to turn him back? No

Will they get destroyed anyway? Yep

There is a plot point and consequences wrapped around that event; but it is worth mentioning I am treating the Strings UNITED as an extremely dangerous Artifact; as in, nearly Ark of the Covenant dangerous, though the effects of them are not as immediate and sudden as with the Ark XD

Naturally, none of the Troll tribes know what they are 'playing' with.

Take from that what you will~

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

[ikemenomegas]

so since you said before in a previous post that satoru is basically always possessive and is the most jealous person and in another post, he'd act clingy towards you in public or something along those lines, when he feels jealous. say, he's around his students and sees someone persistently flirting with his alpha, would he show his jealousy in that moment or would he wait for a more private moment?

Gojo gets a little more reasonable as he gets older so that's at least one thing in your favor😅. Yeah, his life of entitlement makes him jealous and possessive and he has a terrible sense of "personal boundaries" because his are always up. So even though it's really not socially acceptable, he will get in your and anyone else's space if he wants to or feels the need.

When the situation allows, Satoru will indulge in a playful expression of his inclination to jealousy and possessiveness. However, the question you ask is pretty broad...

If it's just some stranger and you don't realize this other person is flirting, having the students around to witness Satoru's moods only holds him back or changes the way he's going to expresses his feelings, it wouldn't stop him as long as it's not deadly serious. (... look at the very cringe worthy violin teacher bit)

If it's something a little more uncomfortable, like you know this stranger is flirting and can't get away from it, Satoru has no issue being rude to people in public and the students know he's like this, so he'll steer you away or casually guide an encumbrance into the way so you have an opening to leave. (He would call you from across the street and be obvious about it haha). He might bribe or convince the students to help stage a distraction/intervention. He once sent a very young Megumi to pose as your implied son and fetch you back.

If it's necessary for you to talk to this person, maybe for business purposes, and he realizes they're flirting, he will wait until you get what you came for or let you deal with it yourself. If he's hurt at all by your inability or unwillingness to stop this person from flirting with you but is in a delicate situation, he will wait until you get home to maybe go a little feral. He dislikes that he wants the reassurance, but he is more likely to want it. If he can though, he'll melt and pout all over you right away and you should take him out for a quick ice cream or dinner.

If it's another sorcerer and tied in with clan politics, that's where Satoru is really good at walking a line where he can say something that looks normal written down, but everyone in the vicinity understands that this is Gojo-sama, the Six-Eyes user, the strongest sorcerer, and you do not lay hands or eyes on his mate, you do not assume that his having an alpha in any way changes his position in the clan structure, and you do not offer disrespect by association in approaching his alpha with an intention towards seduction.

Also, I feel like I'm not saying this well so I do want to clarify that (the way I try to write the typical au characters), Gojo doesn't act jealous or possessive because of a lack of trust or "ownership" in the objectifying sense. The more obnoxious part is that it's more about having your attention - if it's on someone else, it's not on him. He knows that alpha would not cheat on him, but he also has human emotions - he's just really bad at behaving in a socially acceptable manner about them. Admittedly, it never feels great when someone is implying that they could steal your partner.

Idk his "jealousy" is hard to explain because it doesn't come from a place of insecurity, it has nothing to do with a lack of trust, it has to do with Satoru being an unreasonable demigod who's used to acting on emotions in the moment when he can get away with it, but also because he knows you could walk away because he'd let you. That's one rule he's always subconsciously stuck to - he's not going to force you to stay. Yes, he's always had everything he can physically ask for, but Satoru has been forced into a lot of things his entire life.

He never outright manipulates anybody (in the way of setting up situations to back someone into a corner. If they let him know who they are, he's going to use that information but that's not as dark as it could get). He refuses to actually play politics in general. He's remarkably innocent in the way he relies on earnestness and the threat of potential obliteration as his tools to get things done, they're pretty honest all things considered.

So he's not going to blame or criticize, he's not going to yell or belittle or go all creepy possessive on you. His public persona makes it seem like he would do these things regardless of who's around, but we've seen repeatedly that Satoru is painfully, remarkably rational, almost to the point where he'll lay aside any personal feelings about a situation if it makes sense to do so. He acts out when he can, but it's seldom as chaotic as the higher ups seem to think it is. I guess what I'm saying is he's got boundaries and rules that he follows, it's just that the lines are so far away from what most people experience, this makes him look completely unhinged and he plays this up because when people expect unpredictability from him, it's so far played to his advantage.

[eddis-not-eeddis]

Dealing with newcomer's embarrassment gets easier if you are surrounded by people you have no respect for.

[hauntingblue]

Luffy screaming "Sanji, food" out of habit when looking for him.... oof

[askshivanulegacy]

YTA. Somebody needs to touch grass. If you're obsessing over who's reblogging your stuff, you clearly have too much time on your hands.

Either make things unrebloggable or ... block people who are doing nothing to you, I guess??? You're definitely being way too nosy and judgmental if you're out there trying to dig up "dirt" on people just to moderate who can and can't reblog your things, when these people are doing nothing but standard fandom stuff.

The fact that they choose to reblog your art should be celebrated. Sorrynotsorry that people who are enjoying the show the way it was presented to them are showing their appreciation for artwork. Sounds like you need to accept that there's at least two mainstream ways of viewing the show and your way is not the gospel truth. And even if it was, it literally doesn't matter because all kinds of fans will have all kinds of different views.

aita for writing a callout google doc about myself because people who i find annoying keep reblogging my art

ok basically theres a pairing i like thats only hated in the western side of the fandom, everywhere else its literally the most popular, but due to mistranslations and "popular fanon", most english speakers think one of the characters involved is a child, and assume everyone else does as well.

people like this keep reblogging my non-ship related art, and i dont want my stuff on their pages. so i wrote a callout google doc about myself to send to these people to get them to delete the reblogs (and hopefully share the callout too)

it was tiring, but hey, its working.

What are these acronyms?

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[nomairuins]

anyway things i still must do

1. brush teeth

2. eat probably.

3. switch clothes to dryer

4. the showers

[ghostliest-ghosty-ghost-bastard]

when i think of u i think tally hall. gorillaz.

-🦇

Sobbing screaming throwing up how dare you do this to me on a Tuesday evening, I'm taking emotional damage from this thank you 💚

[emacrow]

Poison Ivy's little sprout

Ivy just got back to her main base after a lil three month fun vacation with Harley and Cat women. Only to see her giant plants seemingly a foot or two away from one lil growing pod sprout literally shaking as if the Fear of God was put into them.

Now she doesn't remember planting this lil bud, it was sickly green in the leaves and steam, the pod itself seem to be glowing blue that the size of a peach. The chaotic maddening whispers from the plants around her wouldn't even come close enough to where she stand right in front of the lil sprout.

They seem more afraid of this lil plant then the last time Harley accidentally brought her an invasive species plant that sass the hell out of the other plants until she secretly relocated it away.

She grab her plant shovel and replant it into a slightly bigger pot, picking it up and walking toward her lab part that didn't had much plants there, considering the big plant babies immediately took over the previous place where that tiny plant was and inched away from where she was walking to.

Maybe it was sick, with how pale and bright green the plant was and whatever fruit was growing was sucking the literal life out of the plant. She could probably add some extra nutrients and plant fertilizer to help it grow until it was ripe to be plucked. Watering it with enough to last the week after putting extra fertilizer.

Taking just one tiny bud leaf since the silent was deafening coming from this plant was completely abnormal to her to a degree that something was very wrong or this plant was alien not from earth's native plants.

Weeks of research turned to months as she watch with pure heavy fascinating interest, seeing that the leaf she cut off turn into an unstable green goopy mess of dna not even an 15 minutes off the plant. It made Ivy wonder what kind of giant peach was growing from it with how it glow so bright purple yet ominous at night. Her lab never felt so cold yet the heater was on 79 degree for her plant babies.

It was by month of September that was a surprise, when Harley came over to help pick the super sized fresh vegetables and fruits off the other plants to maks chicken salads, not noticing that Harley took the large peach fully ripe from the plant she had been observing on.

She was chopping carrots up into bite sized pieces before Harley's voice spoken out.

"Um.. Ivy? I don't know where you got this plant from that momotaro movie, but I think you just grow a boy from a peach."

Ivy turned around immediately to see Harley looking rather shocked as well, with a peach juice covered sleeping baby boy lay in a half way peeled peach. A wet curly black hair with grey eyes that she know in her gut that it will turn blue later.

Oh no.. she caught the bat-bait disease.

"We're not keeping him." Poison ivy said sternly and sharp to steel herself from that sappy adorable puppy eyed look Harley was giving her.

🥺

"Harley, we don't even have-

🥺🥺🥺

"Har-

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

"...."

"One night and then it straight to the the good orphanage near the rich area." Poison ivy sighed, pinching her nose.

"Yessss!" Harley cheered, holding the baby up like he was simba.

It was only for the night, what the worse that could happen.

......

......

......

She was weak to that stare and she knew it.

Poison could only sighed, holding two month old Dara in the baby sling, staring sat which baby outfit to pick, the olive green that had the baby duckies or fern green with the adorable flower patterns.

(Thanks the commenters for telling me the original name. All Google gave me was the Peach boy or Jack and the Giant Peach XD)

[primalsouls]

your eyes

'malipo' kinich x m!reader

I don't care how long it takes As long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face

theme: general, fluff

warning: none, i think, maybe a bit ooc?

summary: (name) has been crushing on a certain saurian hunter for a while already and wayna was getting tired of just watching him stare at the hunter with loving eyes with no plans of making a confession. just how long until kinich notices?

notes: got some inspiration lol i finally got kinich a couple of nights ago xD I was so happy, so I started writing this fic for him lol hope you like it! reblog & comments, any feedback is appreciated!

(colored) eyes stared at the back of a certain saurian hunter. he was talking to one of the tribe’s elders. (name) sighed. a longing gaze watching the dendro user walk away with a small bag of mora in his hands, his annoying companion yapping away beside him about any little trait he could use to berate the other. with kinich out of sight, (name) returned to sorting through a box full of gems but another figure blocked his way, startling the young seller.

“you keep staring at him like that, he’ll feel holes burning in the back of his head.” joked the tribe's chief Wayna, a playful smirk displayed on his features. (name)’s cheeks burned, a pinkish hue decorating across them. “c’mon, when are you going to tell him? you’ve been pinning him since the day you came from Inazuma.” wayna added with a tilt of his head and his arms crossed firmly over his chest. (name) glared at him lightly, smacking the chief’s arm while gesturing to shush. 

“shut up! you can’t say that aloud.” (name) huffed, walking over to the chief to return to his latest shipment. part of him regretted telling wayna about his secret crush on the dendro hunter. well, more like the older man found out within the first few weeks after (name) arrived in huitztlan and got rescued by kinich and the self-centered dragonlord k'uhul ajaw in a near-death attack by some of the wild saurians. Wayna, of course, teased the inazuman merchant for a while about his little secret crush on the hunter after promising not to spill it out to anyone else, especially on kinich, or worse, ajaw. but wayna was getting a little tired of the electro user just staring at the guy whenever he was around. it had been almost half a year since (name) came to natlan. he was surprised kinich didn’t sense those yearning glances… yet. maybe he already noticed but doesn’t bother looking into it. maybe he didn’t. wayna was curious now. 

wayna sighed, shaking his head. “young people these days.” he said, looking over the seller roamed through his shipment. “you two aren’t staying any younger. you should confess, (name).”

“and for what? to get rejected? get made fun of and berated by the oh-so-great dragonlord k’uhul ajaw?” (name) said through gritted teeth, annoyance sipping into his tone. “i’ve rather died in the night kingdom than confess my feelings to kinich.” wayna winced at the last part of (name)’s statement. not wanting to get electrocuted, wayna simply patted (name)’s head and walked away to attend to other matters in the tribe. the merchant clicked his tongue before moving around his little shop to display the new various gems he received from kirara. as he pulled out another small box with more gems stored inside it, (name) noticed a pretty gem that had a familiar color of a familiar pair of eyes. oh, great. now kinich was beginning to affect his line of work. maybe he should confess… but how? no, maybe he shouldn’t. his feelings are only going to get hurt and he would have no choice but to move back to inazuma. archons, his mind tends to be exaggerating. 

(name) shook his head. maybe next time. when he has enough courage to confess his pining feelings. 

the gem matching kinich’s eyes was too pretty. (name) had no choice but to make it into a bracelet. it looked beautiful. just like kinich. ugh. he just can’t get rid of him. The saurian hunter kept plaguing his mind every day and night. his heart raced at just the mention of his name. (name) frowned. he put the bracelet away in his pockets as he walked down the dirt path leading to the scions of the canopy. he was still a long way from home. (name) had a delivery he needed to do personally, to make the gems the customer asked for delivered safely and he did so by delivering them himself. he should have just hired kirara. it was a long walk. too long. 

“you pathetic, lizard-brain worm! you dared tried to defy the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw!? you truly dared to invite the wrath of the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw, a sovereign of the nation of flames!”

(name) paused. he recognized that voice. that aggravating voice. even from this distance, he could feel it getting under his skin. but if ajaw was nearby… does that mean he was too?

biting his lower lip back, (name) debated eavesdropping into their conversation. he shouldn’t but… archons, he sounded like a creep thinking this, he wanted to see kinich. it had been almost a week since he last saw him. it was just a little glance. that’s all. 

quietly walking over behind a tree, (name) peeked over the trunk. ah, there he was. standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed as he let ajaw talk his ears off. but it wasn’t just him there. the legendary traveler and their companion paimon were there, too. (name) honestly didn’t pay attention to the other three. His longing gaze was set on the dark-haired dendro user. 

wow. how can a human being like him be so pretty and strong-willed?

(name) sighed with a heavy heart and blinked. but when he looked over to where kinich stood, said hunter was gone. oh, no. the other three were still arguing with one another, so where had kinich gone to?

“i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.” a voice spoke lowly behind him. (name) let out a small, frightened shout at the sudden presence of kinich behind him. his eyes widened. his face flushed brightly. his words quickly registered into his mind before shaking his hands in defend. 

“wha-wha-what are you ta-talking about?” (name) cursed mentally for his nervous stutter, his (colored) eyes looked anywhere but at the saurian hunter. 

“that longing look in your eyes… noticed it for a while now.” kinich answered, uncrossing his arms as he took a step closer to (name), who instead took a step behind. and they continued for a bit until his back met the tree, kinich never breaking eye contact. 

(name)’s brows furrowed, his anxious gaze staring down at the ground beside him. a hand went into his pocket where the bracelet was, trying to see comfort from it. 

getting no response back, kinich tilted his head as he leaned his face closer to (name). he was a few inches taller than him, finding the little height difference endearing. “started noticing it after the first month you stayed in the canopy. the way you have this yearning look in your eyes. they’re always set on me. you wouldn’t even flinch whenever i caught your stare.” oh, no. (name) inwardly groaned. he must have zoned out as he stared openly at the claymore wielder. the merchant wanted to dig a hole and died in it out of embarrassment. so kinich knew for half a year. how humiliating. 

“i-i didn’t mean to… i’m sorry. i just, um.. I…” (name) was at a loss for words. he was sure his face was as red as those dendrobiums that appeared around the shipwrecks in nazuichi beach. his heart beat so fast, he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. part of him hoped so to avoid this worst-case scenario. 

kinich shook his head at the unfinished apology. “there’s no need to say that.” he started, his own gaze now looking at the tree behind (name)’s back. “i’ve…been having the same longing look, too… towards you. for a while now.” kinich said, pulling himself together to look into (name)’s eyes, after said seller found the courage to do so too. he stared down at the other with a small intense look in his eyes before shifting his gaze back towards the trio he left behind. “i’m not busy right now. ajaw is busy with a couple of behavioral teachers right now, so… would you like to take a walk back to the canopy?” kinich offered his arm towards (name). The electro user stared at him in shock before smiling timidly, taking his arm in his own. 

“that will be lovely.” (name) had a feeling wayna would be too surprised the moment they arrived at the tribe. his smile grew a bit, already feeling the teasing miles away. at the very least, things turned out in a good light, unlike what his overthinking mind had clouded inside his head. (name) was happy with this outcome.

[bilolli]

Just Dance Care AU!

Ok ok so I thought of a story for this Au but it’s nothing really impactful or full of drama and angst like my other au’s, I wanted to leave this au easy and fun to play around, because, let’s say it. Just Dance and drama in the same sentence makes me laugh. 

story and PNG version under the cut!

(I gave up on Y/n design because I couldn't figure out a general look for them. This is you we are talking about! Draw your own JD fit, I'll draw mine soon XD)

Anyway here’s the story so far: 

Year 2029, videogames industry made a huge step forward and classic consoles and devices were substituted by the new and upgraded VR headsets with full body tracking. It’s something like the NerveGear in Sword Art Online without the kill switch. Some games still require you to actually move your body (like fitness games or sports because yeah, they don’t have a purpose otherwise). 

Y/n wanted to buy the newest VR headset but, while searching for the best offer, they found out FazCo entertainment was hosting a giveaway, the prize? One of their prototypes, a VR meant to be released the next year coinciding with the opening of their first mega pizza plex.

(so the plex doesn’t exist right now). You decide to sign up for the giveaway and after a while you receive an email telling you you won the VR headset and that, to claim it, you need to read and sign a series of NDA policies (understandable, it’s a prototype headset that’s not even in commerce). Some clauses are a little bit concerning but nothing you hadn’t read on other electronics booklets, so you decide to sign. After, like, a day, you have the VR in your hands. 

The box let you know with super saturated and colorful writing, that the VR came with a game pre-installed inside. Uh, that’s why they were giving one away, they wanted a free game tester…but you know what, it’s worth it.

You always liked Just Dance games, they make you think about happy memories of your childhood. This pre-installed game called “Five Dances at Freddy’s” is a close copy of your childhood game with original FazCo songs, characters, environments and also some collaborations with other famous artists. It probably will be the cause of a big copyright infringement report.

There are various ways to play it: story mode, Casual dance, Five Dances, and Just Dance Care.

The first one is similar to the casual dance mode but with little cutscenes between a dance and another to tell a tale, Casual dance is how you can play the collab songs, Five Dances is the multiplayer mode and Just Dance Care is a more uhhhh “hard” way to play the game with all the other modes mixed in it. You stare at the description of the last mode smirking and decide to try it first just to see how far you can get before losing (yes you can lose in hard mode in this Just Dance, but you don’t die, you just have to restart from the beginning). Turns out the FazCo wasn’t kidding when they advertised the new headset as a breakthrough in the world of virtual reality headsets, the thing TRANSPORTED you inside the game itself. 

You almost have a heart attack when you can’t find your VR on your head, but before you can try something you are blocked by two tall individuals who you think are the “tutorial” characters. 

Yadda yadda, tutorial, you can pause the game and exit whenever you need just by opening an hidden menu, you find out your tutorial characters are called Sun and Moon and that you are way worse than you remembered at dancing (damn full body tracking, there is no way you are going to do a cartwheel in the middle of a dance, you still don’t know if your body is inside your home and if you’ll physically feel pain if you fall and you don’t want to find out).

You pass an embarrassingly long time trying to win your first dance battle just to discover it was still the tutorial. 

You try to go on with the story but you fail at the first real battle with a bear character named Freddy. 

And guess what? You have to start again from the tutorial! Y/n is gonna spend A LOT of time with Sun and Moon if this goes on.

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | 16:63 ⏤BABY FEVER

SUM. : you and remus meet an adorable baby while grocery shopping

TAGS. : husband remus ; wife reader ; modern au ; muggle au ; married au ; baby fever ; mentions of birth control ; honeymoon phase ; domestic fluff

LENGTH : 0.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

You and Remus were doing your weekly shop, list in hand as he pushed the shopping cart beside you. It’s a peaceful routine the two of you got into after making it official and moving in together. Every Friday, after the two of you got off work, he’d pick you up and you’d both go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.  

“Should we buy welsh cakes or make them ourselves?” you mutter aloud as Remus chuckles beside you. 

“You mean ‘or you make them’, you know I’m useless around ovens,” he presses an affectionate kiss against your temple and smiles at the giggle it draws from your pretty lips — music to his ears. People said it was impossible to stay in the honeymoon phase of your relationship for so long but you and Remus debunked all of that. From a distance, the two of you still looked like newlyweds. 

“I suppose I have some time to make a few batches after we get home today,” you smile at your husband, “we can have some before tea,” 

“Sounds like a plan, dove,” Remus agrees and, as you add a small bag of self-raising flour to your cart, you hear a cry to your right and turn to see a baby perched in the cart seat, reaching its small pudgy hands down for a small dog plush they must have dropped. To the left of the baby, you saw, who you assumed was the child’s mother softly ask what the matter was, her brows furrowed from worry. It appears as though she didn’t see that her child had dropped their toy. 

Before you could take action, Remus was already handing the small plush back to the child, “here you go,” he whispers softly, “no more tears now,”

The mother flashed a smile at your husband, “Thank you so much,” she then turned to her child, “let’s say thank you to the kind man, darling,” she took the child’s small wrist and made them wave at you and Remus, who moved to stand beside you with an adoring smile on his face. Seeming to understand what their mother was asking of them, the baby gives a gummy grin with the few teeth they had as their eyes disappear behind their pudgy, flushed cheeks. At this, the mother gave one final grateful smile before moving on with her shopping, her baby hugging their beloved plush to their chest. 

“How cute,” Remus mutters, smiling and waving a final goodbye at the baby as he gradually begins to realise how quiet you’ve been. 

“Remus…” he looks at you with soft eyes as yours become rounded when looking up at him, they sparkled with want as you push your bottom lip out into a pout. It’s a look he’s familiar with; it’s the one you always pulled when you wanted something so he’s quick to anticipate any request you wanted to make.

“Yes, dove?”

“I want a baby,” 

“A–...” speechless, Remus stares at you with his jaw slackened and his eyes wide. A heat crawls up his neck and floods his cheeks as he stiffens in the hopes that the tightening of his pants weren’t just his imagination, “a…a baby?...”

“Yeah…” your whining voice makes a heat pool in his lower abdomen and, just when he thought you couldn’t make things worse, your arms wrap around his torso to squeeze him close. He looks down with red cheeks as you place your chin on his chest and continue pouting, “I want a baby now!”

“D-Dove— we can’t–”

“Why not?” 

“..y-you’re on birth control–!”

“I’ll get off it,” you quickly reply, grinning up at him like the little minx you are. He knows that you can see the profound effect your statement has on him, “please, honey~” like all of your requests before, Remus can’t say no to you. 

He’ll give you a baby and he’s not going to wait for you to get off birth control. 

NAVI.

A/N : i'm dying from a horrible flu and fever but i had to write this before i lost the inspiration to, again, this was inspired by tiktok XD i hope you darlings enjoy! i'll try to get better as soon as possible so i can get back to writing again ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

TAGLIST : @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani

[honkytonk-hangman]

How It's Done – Oneshot Version

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Originally posted by unicornships

Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Warnings: erm maybe just some references to sex? jake being jake? language? minions. big warning for minions xD

Notes: Originally I intended this to be a two-parter series, but I wanted to change how it went, so I rewrote the parts I didn't like and made the entire thing into a oneshot instead!!! This fic will replace the 'part one' already on my blog, but I will keep this part up, linked at the very bottom of my masterlist! thank you everyone for being so patient! Thank you @hangmanssunnies, my love my biggest support <3

Words: 11.6k!

“Well, I’ll be damned…”

You pinch your eyes shut and steel yourself at the sound of the all too familiar Texan drawl, hanging on to the hope that perhaps he isn’t talking to you. You’re out of luck though, and moments later Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin slides into the open space next to you at the bar, already posed in a casual lean as he looks you up and down appraisingly.

It makes your teeth grind.

It makes your face hot.

“If it isn’t Mirage. Would have invited you to play with us if I’d known you were here earlier…” Hangman cocks his head, and his lips tip up in an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But one can never really be sure if you’re around or not… and that's before you get in a cockpit,” he grins, but when you meet his eye at last, he looks away from you, toward Penny who seems to approach in the nick of time, saving you from needing to respond.

You blink down at your drink, and finish it quickly, unnerved by what you think might have just been a compliment of sorts from Hangman. You’d been stationed together previously, though you weren’t friends, so you’d been expecting something a little more acidic in nature. You’d heard him interact with other aviators, knew he liked to push and poke them, usually got away with it too. For some reason though, he’d never really gone there with you and frankly you’ve always just chalked it up to not being worth his time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only times you’d ever actually spoken had been in the sky. To be completely honest, you’re more than a little surprised that he remembers you at all.

You didn’t exactly go out of your way to stand out…

You were naturally quiet, which wasn’t helped by your social anxiety, resulting in most people describing you as extremely shy. They wouldn’t be wrong, you suppose, you did tend to keep to yourself, the idea of having too many eyes on you all but unbearable to you. But if you’d thought a roomful of people singing happy birthday to you was bad, somehow being under the unwavering stare of Hangman is approximately one thousand times worse.

“Penny, my dear… I’ll have,” he stops to glance pointedly down at your now finished beer, adjusts his stance to lean even more and unwittingly makes the muscles in his bicep bulge.

“Five more on the Old Timer,” Hangman says, nodding to the man who sits on the other side of the bar.

Internally you blanch, but externally, you say nothing and give even less away, feeling a little ping of satisfaction that apparently, you know something Hangman doesn’t. Before he’d come along, you’d been carefully watching the interaction between Penny and Captain Mitchell. You’d never met the man before, but you knew how to read military insignia, which at this point, was more than you could say for Hangman, who dismisses him quickly.

You wonder if Monday morning you’ll be able to work up the nerve to tease him about it.

You’re distracted from your thoughts when Penny returns with the requested drinks. You had no real intentions of going and hanging out with Hangman and the others, but before you can excuse yourself, your empty beer is smoothly plucked from your hands, replaced quickly with a brand new one.

“Help me carry these back?” Hangman asks then, jerking his head in the vague direction of the pool table. You frown when he immediately takes off walking, not actually letting you help him at all, all four beers still slotted between his fingers. You find yourself following him anyway, as if he’d placed some kind of spell over you.

Hangman stops ahead of you at the ancient jukebox, looking back over his shoulder at you, nodding in a pleased manner when he sees you trailing behind. He waits for you, gaze never leaving your form, even as he nods to the space next to him. You awkwardly step up to the spot opposite to him, and look past the glass and at the selection inside. Hangman, once more, takes up a lean, this time against the rickety machine.

“Would you be so kind as to select track number…” he trails off as he checks the list of songs, but quickly flicks his gaze back to you, and smiles bright, tauntingly, again. “Eighty-Six?” he asks, but it's barely a question. You nod, and swallow, shifting from holding your beer with two hands to holding it with just one. You carefully tap the chunky ‘eight’ and ‘six’ keys as he watches. The machine’s little analogue screen confirms that your song is next up, and nervously, you look back up at Hangman, horrified to find he’s just been staring at your face for the past however long.

“S’been a while, Mirage.” He drawls, making you blink rapidly and look away.

“Has it?” Is all you can manage meekly in reply, surprised when he lets out a genuine sounding laugh. He hums warmly, and you practically feel it in your chest.

“And yet,” he lifts hand, two beers held expertly between his fingers, but he extends it to tap your nose, almost making you almost flinch.

“You haven’t changed at all.” Hangman grins Cheshire-like down at you, before his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he leans in even closer while flicking his eyes up and down your form again.

“I don’t bite you know,” he tells you, his voice sounding serious, but his somberness lasts mere seconds.

“Well, not unless you ask me to first, sweetheart,” he winks and his smile grows large as your eyes grow wide and you splutter, flustered.

Your face grows hot with slight embarrassment, a wave of inner resentment at his teasing washing through you.

Hangman laughs, seemingly bored with you now, and he turns to walk back toward the pool tables. Without even looking, he beckons you to follow with one finger on his still occupied hands. For a moment your pique prevents you from doing so, certain that if you were to dip into the crowd now, he’d not care enough to seek you out again, let alone notice you were missing.

You know he didn’t mean it, you know his flirting is just to get a rise, but you also know that he’d never do it to Phoenix, or Halo, and a little bit of you hates yourself for being such a marked pushover. You make the decision now that you won’t let him do it again, if you can help it.

Your eyes travel past Hangman then, towards the pool tables where you can now see another figure has joined the other gathered aviators, and for the first time all evening, you don’t feel nervous to go join them.

You follow after Hangman, but quickly diverge from his path, cutting around a gathered group of Navy personnel to get there faster. As you approach, you take a moment to shake off any lingering anxiety, before gently laying a hand on the faded Hawaiian shirt in front of you, doing your best to keep yourself from bouncing on your heels.

Rooster half looks ready to wave off whoever is trying to get his attention, but when his shaded eyes land on you, he spins his whole body to face you, grinning widely in unguarded excitement as he gathers you up in his arms.

“Miri!” he exclaims warmly, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you when he briefly lifts you off the ground.

“I was just about to ask Phoenix if she’d seen you yet.” Rooster informs you. 

“Seen who?” Phoenix steps around him, frowning as she quickly glances you over, though it disappears quickly.

“Yeah, that about tracks…” Rooster mutters mostly to himself.

“Nat, this is Mirage, you know her right?” Rooster introduces the two of you, and while neither of you make to shake hands, you only feel friendly energy radiate off the other woman, even as she openly looks you over now, nodding at Rooster’s words.

“Right, I have heard about you… I guess there's no real mystery behind your callsign… I didn’t even realise you were here… Sorry,” she tells you bluntly, but you appreciate her straightforwardness.

“They said ‘Wallflower’ was too long.” You joke lightly, and the other woman smiles. A moment passes between you, and you get the distinct feeling that Phoenix has become determined to never let you go unnoticed in her presence again.

You aren’t sure just yet if you appreciate that, but you are sure that you’ve just made a friend.

“Mirage?” Another voice joins then and you look to your left, smiling again when you see another familiar face.

“Bob!” you move to embrace him too, not seeing the look shared between Phoenix and Payback who watch you in surprise.

“Huh. Figures.”

-

Neither you or Hangman have moved since Rooster and Mav went down. The rest of Dagger had returned an hour ago, mission complete. There was no reason for either of you to be on standby.

And yet.

When the call came through that Dagger Two had been hit, both you and Hangman had separately requested to be launched, to help, but you’d been denied.

As a rule, you made yourself easy to work with, even if those around you were less compliant, and you’d experienced plenty of that, flying alongside Hangman the past few weeks. Whether it was him leaving you to get shot down in training, or refusing to fly as a team during simulations. And yet, despite his habit of ‘hanging you out to dry’ being the reason behind his callsign, deep down, you’ve never once doubted flying alongside him in the real thing like the others seemed to.

You’re glad for that lack of hesitation now, glad that it only takes a single moment of eye contact from across the tarmac for the two of you to understand one another perfectly. Glad that when you got word that somehow, Rooster was supersonic again, you already know his answer before you even ask.

“Hangman? Hondo’s cleared us for take off with the ground crew, against orders. You with me?” you ask quietly, looking over at your wingman, knowing that when you return you’ll most certainly be court marshalled, but unable to sit and do nothing any longer.

“To hell and back, Mirage,” comes his immediate reply.

You see him move in sync with you, both of your canopy’s lowering at the same time.

You ignore the panicked voices ordering you to stand down, long enough for Hondo and the others to get you on the catapult, and by then it’s too late.

In two seconds you’re propelled from zero to over a hundred and sixty, and in your ears you hear Hangman right behind you.

-

“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” The question makes you jump, your drink almost sloshing everywhere. The sudden voice, as well as the person it belonged to, takes you completely by surprise, but you’re thankful he doesn’t draw attention to your startling.

Up until moments ago, you’d been peacefully watching the ocean toss and turn, burying your feet in the damp sand and thinking about what you were going to do with your upcoming two weeks of post-mission leave.

Most of Dagger were a little further up the shore, a bonfire crackling away, although you weren’t the only one to have splintered off. Mav and Rooster were currently standing in the shallows talking, and you think Halo and Phoenix have moved to sit apart from the others as well. You had managed to sneak away easily enough, content to just sit on your own for a while, though your efforts appear to have been mostly in vain, if the man now plopped in the sand beside you is any indicator.

You blink at each other.

“What?!” you blurt out dumbly, not completely certain you really understood what he’d said. Hangman’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away from you, linking his hands together around his knees, and staring out at the rolling waves.

“Coffee. Would you like to get one with me?” He repeats, sounding only a smidge impatient, but it still doesn't clear up much for you.

“I… No, I heard you the first time… I… I just don’t understand… why?”

Over the past three weeks you’ve been forced more out of your shell than you ever have before. It was torture. It was wonderful.

Part of you pats yourself on the back for being able to ask him so starightly, but another part of you slaps yourself in the face for questioning him.

Hangman turns to look at you apprehensively.

“Are you asking why coffee or why am I asking you?” He speaks slowly and carefully, his face blank and devoid of any hint he was teasing, though you think he might be anyway.

“Why… Why are you asking me?” You push, shuffling your feet in the sand, drawing his attention for a moment. He looks back at your face and frowns slightly, cocking his head.

“Because I like you? And that is usually what somebody does when they like someone. Ask them.” He answers, and this time you definitely get the impression he’s politely trying not to laugh, but for once, you don’t feel like you’re on the outside of the joke.

Still, you find yourself taken somewhat aback at his confession, admitted so easily and freely, as if it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, which confuses you.

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.

“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”

“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by. Especially when for the past three weeks you haven't been able to get rid of the odd heart skips you got whenever Hangman acknowledged your presence at all.

And besides, you weren’t blind.

Hangman was ridiculously pretty, and not anywhere near as much of an asshole as he wanted people to believe.

He looks at you blankly for a moment, processing your words, before his face breaks out in a smile. It isn’t one of his usual smirks or tauntingly pearly grins, though. It’s softer, sweeter, and you stare mesmerised as he looks away from you again quickly, and down at his linked hands, nodding.

Two days pass, and even when you’re sitting across from him in a small, niche little coffee shop you had no idea existed, you feel like you’re in a dream.

You’ve never seen Hangman out of uniform, you realise, and it’s a whole new experience you’re forced quickly to process when he stands to go get your drinks.

Dark jeans, white shirt, casual jacket. It’s a simple outfit, but goddamn does he make it look good. Nervously you have to wonder if your white and blue sundress, sneakers and bomber jacket were having the same effect on him, though you highly doubt it.

He returns quickly, attentively, placing both your coffees down, before folding himself into his chair once more. You both look at each other awkwardly before you distract yourself by taking a sip of your coffee. Hangman seems to do the same, but instead of drinking, he begins tearing into several little sugar packets, and emptying them into his coffee foam.

You huff out a tiny laugh before you can stop yourself, and his eyes quickly snap to you.

“What?” he asks defensively, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

“I just… I guess I never figured you for a sweet coffee kinda guy…”

“Oh, and why is that?” his twitching lips turn into a full smirk, but it isn’t his usual Hangman smirk. You chew on the inside of your lip, and sip your coffee once more before answering.

“I’m not sure. I guess you just don’t seem like the type of guy who…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to say and even more; how to say it.

“Listen, I may have rippling, glistening abdominals, but I have a sweet tooth,” he says, putting on the defensiveness now, leaning toward you and pointing at himself. You pinch your brows together and purse your lips, nodding vehemently.

“I know how to have fun,” he tells you, tipping a third sugar into his coffee.

“Of that I don’t really doubt, Hangman,” you say, but his gaze snaps back to you again, almost sharply this time.

“Jake.” he corrects you.

You pause.

Of course, you knew his first name, but you’re fairly certain you’ve never once used it. Hangman has just always been, well, Hangman. But you weren’t in a cockpit right now, he’d asked you out, this wasn’t the time and place for callsigns. He wasn’t Hangman, and you weren’t Mirage.

“Jake,” you say slowly, carefully, as if he’ll tell you any moment he’s just kidding around. But he doesn’t.

“Miri,” he replies, slow like you, but softer, and it’s silly, but it sounds so nice coming from him. You shake your head and swallow.

“Jake, if you don’t like coffee, why did you ask me out for one?” you ask him, watching as he blinks slowly at you, before his gaze slowly drops to the latte in front of him.

“If I asked you for a drink, you might’ve got the wrong idea,” he starts, speaking carefully. “If I asked you for dinner, it could be too formal, too awkward–”

“–It’s already awkward,” you point out, making him grimace slightly, so you shrug.

“Coffee just seemed like– I just wanted to–” he cuts himself off and drops both hands to the table.

“Look– I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what this was. I like you. I know you like coffee.” Jake admits all in a flurry, his voice quiet, and his eyes flickering around as he speaks.

For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen Jake unable to maintain eye contact, actually it seemed to be something he took immense pride in, and it always made you slightly uncomfortable, but right now he appears completely incapable, and it's not a side of Hangman you’ve ever seen before. You realise you might be meeting Jake properly for the first time.

You decide to let him off easy, with all the newfound courage Dagger had been feeding into you the past few weeks, and you change the subject.

“You know, when you came up to me at the Hard Deck that first night, I was kinda surprised you remembered me at all,” you say slowly, sipping your coffee and eying him evenly. Jake frowns then, but it smooths out into a cool grin, and he leans back in his chair, cocking his head.

“Are you kidding? I’m always clocking possible threats.” he tells you, making you cough lightly.

“How am I a threat to you?!” you ask in disbelief.

“Oh, I could name a few,” Jake teases, nodding at you, but flicking his eyes away, almost making a show of clocking an incoming group of customers behind you.

You weren’t clueless, you knew you were a part of Dagger for a reason. You were damn good at your job, but still, Jake was Hangman, not only was he an aviator you respected, he was an aviator with very high personal standards, and for him to see you as comparable to him… well truthfully, you find yourself rather humbled.

And then flustered, at his clear unabashed flirting.

“I always thought you flirting was just you messing with me,” you admit, and he grins wider.

“Can’t it be both?” he asks, leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together. He seems to have no problem maintaining eye contact now, you note. When you cold-stare him, he simply shrugs.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered and nervous, what can I say?”

“Literally anything else.” You grumble back.

You finish your coffee and push the cup to the side, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward like he was. Jake mimics you, pushing his own coffee away, clearly with no intention to start, let alone finish it. You aren’t as good as him with eye contact though, no matter how much you’d come out of your shell, so you take the opportunity to glance sideways out the window, only for your gaze to catch on something.

Your heart thumps loudly for a moment in your ears, and you wonder briefly if you should act on the thoughts popping around your brain right now, or if you should just stay put.

You lean forward even more, and flick your eyes back to Jake who is staring at you curiously.

“Hey, I have an idea…” you start, chewing on the inside of your lip, before standing up. You only hesitate a little before offering your hand.

“You with me?” you ask without thinking, the words the same as the ones you ask time and again to your wingmen while in flight manoeuvres. Jake stares up at you for a moment, before he too stands, your heart skipping when he takes your hand. With a tiny squeeze you almost don’t notice, Jake grins, and nods.

-

“Oh, hey! Stop! That’s not fair!” You elbow Jake in the side, but it’s already too late. The hand he’d shot out to block your light gun had done its job, and where you’d previously been neck in neck for score on the dual Time Crisis cabinet, Jake’s character was now cheering in victory, while your screen was asking you to insert more coins and try again.

Jake chortles and you both slot your plastic guns back into their plastic holsters at the front of the machine.

“We never agreed to no interference,” he says proudly, and you sock him in the arm only half as hard as you can.

“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” you exclaim pointedly. Jake grins down at you, and collects his tickets.

“Quit complaining, all these are gonna go towards whatever stuffed bear or whatever the hell you want anyway.” He rolls his eyes, and gestures to the shoddy ‘rewards’ counter of the arcade you’d spotted from the coffee shop.

“I want the Minion.” You state firmly after glancing at the redemption counter for three seconds, and spotting the big ugly yellow creature on the top shelf. Jake sighs in a put-upon manner and shakes his head.

“See, this is how you know I really like you. I’m willing to ignore that,” he says, and you actually think he might be serious this time. You grin up at him as he takes your elbow, and begins leading you toward the back of the room.

“What are you going to cheat me out of kicking your ass at this time?” you glance around you, goosebumps trailing up and down your arm as Jake lets his hand slide from around your elbow, down your forearm and into your hand, which he squeezes as if in warning.

“I didn’t cheat, I simply used black ops tactics,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. You purse your lips at him and narrow your own eyes back.

“Cheat.” you say again, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.

You come to a stop then, and you look up at the old photo booth machine. Jake pulls out a fistfull of tickets, squinting his eyes at the label with instructions, before looking back over at the redemption counter. He seems to run some numbers before he looks back down at you with a grin, and waves the strings of crumpled tickets.

“My cheating means we can use the booth, and still have enough for a Kevin plush, so I don’t wanna hear no more complaining outta you,” he waggles a finger in front of your nose, and you blink up at him sheepishly.

“Jake– I don’t really want the Minion…” you say, before your voice turns suspicious. “Anyway, how do you know which one is Kevin?!” you lift an eyebrow, only for Jake to roll his eyes and push you into the curtained booth.

You orient yourself in the tiny enclosed space, looking around you as Jake takes a moment to feed several lines of win-tickets into the machine before he follows you. He’s forced to duck down real low, making the space even smaller, and you both stare for a moment at the small seat barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“Well, either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours, darlin’, but I know which one I’d prefer.” Jake intones lowly, and for the first time in an hour or so, you feel yourself get all flustered again. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten about the explicitly romantic tone of this meeting until now, and more than that, your stomach begins to flip and flop like the first time you’d gotten in a jet when he eases past you and drops himself onto the bench before patting his thighs.

“Jake, maybe if you just move over a litt–”

“No can do, honey,” and he’s not even trying to tease you, he demonstrates the spread of his legs, and the tight fit into the booth, before looking back up at you expectantly again.

“Okay… Okay…” you say more for your own sanity than anything else, and turn, quickly perching yourself on his leg before you can really think too hard about what you're doing.

Your efforts are for naught though, because the moment you’re sat down, Jake’s hands are tugging you against him further, sitting you more comfortably on the thick expanse of his thigh, and you barely repress the noise that nearly escapes you at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.

“There we go, sweetheart,” he says softly, almost to himself, and moves his hands to wrap around you completely. If he notices your little noise, which by his self satisfied smirk he definitely has, he thankfully chooses not to say anything. Your face grows warm, not only at the hold he has on you but at the pet name too.

“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” you ask, sounding half bewildered, half incredulous, forgetting for a moment where exactly you were and why. As you look over your shoulder at the man behind you, Jake stares back, his smirk still in place even as his eyes seem to search your face, his own expression mostly unreadable.

“Would you prefer ‘honey’?” he almost purrs, his voice distinctly amused, but you notice that he doesn’t back down, doesn’t apologise or step back.

It makes your stomach twist up in knots. It makes your heartbeat skip like a record.

You turn away from him, shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you tell him bashfully, wanting to grumble slightly when against your back you sense what you think is him puffing his chest a little. Quickly, you add: “Not at work, though…”

Jake chortles, but as you peek over your shoulder to look at him again, he’s relenting, his smirk gone and replaced with a far softer smile as he nods.

“Not at work, though.” he repeats lowly in confirmation, almost making you jump when he shifts one hand to steady you around the waist, his other reaching out to begin fiddling with the controls on the lit up screen in front of you.

“Alright, let's get this show on the road shall we?”

By the time you’re exiting the tiny cubicle, Jake’s hands still attached to your hips as he follows you out, you’re both laughing quietly to yourselves. You’re amazed to find just how much Jake can affect you, either setting you at complete ease or sending you into a tizzy, depending on what he’s said or done. Usually you wouldn’t be surprised by other people’s effects on you, you were jumpy and anxious by nature, but it was rare that somebody who put you on edge as much as Jake did, could also give you such comfort.

When he detaches his hands from your sides at last to survey the sheets of photos spat out by the booth, you marvel at how much you start to miss the contact. With all the subtlety you can muster, you inch closer to him, under the guise of getting a look at the photos as well, though really, you’re only hoping that you might prompt him into reaching out for you again.

Jake chortles and points at a set of two pictures. In one, you’re both grinning madly, pulling silly faces, and in the other, you’re wearing softer smiles, and you notice now, that Jake had pushed his face a little closer to yours. It makes heat rise in your cheeks, not just at the seeming intimacy of the photo, but truthfully, of how much you like seeing the two of you like that.

“You won’t mind if I keep these, will ya?” Jake asks, looking over at you. You simply shake your head, and he grins a little wider, carefully tearing off the two pictures before pulling out his wallet and tucking them inside, for sake keeping, you assume.

Jake lets you keep the rest, and absently, you fold them into the zipper in your purse, too distracted by the fact that he does indeed take your hand again, before quickly releasing it to instead wrap his arm over your shoulder. You can’t stop yourself from smiling a little as you blink dumbly up at him, and he grins down at you, ducking his face even closer to yours.

“Now sweetheart, I believe I was instructed to win you a minion plush.”

-

You try to avoid Phoenix’s hard stare, and focus on wiping down your helmet.

“You’re acting weird,” she finally announces, still managing to make you jump despite your anticipation. You then immediately proceed to do yourself exactly zero favours, proving her point by refusing to look up at her, choosing to instead hurriedly continue with your current task.

“What? No I’m not. I’m fine. You’re being weird,” you argue, wincing at your clearly abysmal attempts at behaving like a normal adult human. You start re-cleaning the pristine surface of your helmet, your nerves conjuring imperfections you logically know don’t exit.

Just before you completely lose yourself down the spiral of unhealthy compulsive behaviours, A hand, Nat’s hand, stops your own. Tugging the cloth out of your hands and taking your helmet away from you, she places it down on the workbench you stand on opposite sides of. Chewing your lip, you at last meet her eye.

“Miri, it’s okay to have a crush–”

“–I don’t have a crush!” You blurt out both far too quickly to be believable, as well as in sheer panic. Your face grows immediately hot, and you can tell Phoenix is trying not to laugh at the show you’re putting on so poorly. Her lips twitch, but her expression softens from amusement into something softer, mixed with traces of pity. Just when you’re starting to debate the pros and cons of sprinting out of the room, getting in your jet, and then flying away never to be seen again, she relents, releasing you from her eye contact and making herself busy as she tidies up bits and bobs littering the workbench.

You swallow thickly, and stay watching her, your heart rate only spiking higher as your anxiety builds once more at her sudden apparent indifference. You follow her movements without moving an inch, sharply aware that not only was she still very much focused solely on scrutinising you, but even more mortifyingly, that this conversation was far from being over.

“Nat,” you say with surprisingly more strudiness than you believed possible, pausing to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “I don’t have a crush, okay?” You wait for her to look back over at you, nothing but disbelief rolling off of her faux-casualty, giving you a bullshit shrug and a smile.

“Okay.” she says. You had hoped that would be enough, but you should have known better. You clear your throat again.

“Nat,” you say, only making yourself louder, as if that was a sign of nothing going on. She looks up at you somewhat blankly. You know you’re totally screwed already as her eyes dip to watch your finger begin quickly tapping on the bench before you with barely any acknowledgement from yourself. “There’s nothing weird going on,” you say, pleading with your voice and face and every atom of your being that she drops it.

She drops something, unfortunately it’s not the subject though, but you still feel some semblance of stress leaving your body as her fake lack of care dissolves, and she leans back to rest against the cabinet behind her. She crosses her arms and shrugs again while letting out a soft, pitying sigh, which this time doesn’t raise your non-existent heckles as much as it had when it first showed its face.

You stare at one another, at what you think is an impasse and wordless agreement to now never talk of this episode in your friendship ever again, but once again, you should have known better.

“If it’s any consolation, I think he has a crush on you too, so it's not like it’s a total waste of energy… despite all evidence to the contrary,” She says conversationally at first, before muttering out the last part under her breath.

“He doesn’t,” you state with so much certainty you almost forget for a moment that it’s not even a little bit true. Instead, crossing your arms too, you feel like a middle schooler having a much too serious fight with her friend at lunch. “We’ve just become closer, like all of the squad have. You’re just noticing it cause you want to!” you’re a little taken aback by the sound logic of your own reasoning, all points earned to your side then immediately becoming forfeit when you can’t help yourself from stupidly continuing to speak. “Why? Has he said something?!”

Your outburst of near-giddy excitement destroys all chances of you walking this back, and you find yourself with only one option left available. But your prior readiness to exit out of this failed interaction at roughly 300 kts/min becomes soberingly not so fun to fantasise about when you sheepishly remember the current charges against you, for the theft of the $70 million dollar military aircraft you’d technically stolen when you and Jake had taken a joy ride to pick up Mav and Rooster.

You're snapped back into the present as Natasha Trace regards you unreadably and slowly lifts one perfect eyebrow at you. You cover your face and hang your head, you reason with your now permanently mortified brain that if you just admitted to the thing she already believed to be true, she’d stop looking any closer, possibly finding out something actually secret.

It helps that your embarrassment for the flurry of extremely obvious questions is very real, and you groan into your palms. You hear before you see Phoenix laugh, listening to her chortle at your outing yourself, but you notice that he demeanour is warmer now, and she pushes herself up to sit on the top of the bench between you, crossing her legs.

“He’s not said a thing, but he doesn’t need to,” she tells you, seemingly glad to just be able to share her findings and observations, which you uncomfortably realise have been going on for a lot longer than you realised.

“It's what he’s not saying,” she explains, and you blink up at her in genuine curiosity.

“Huh?”

Phoenix turns her gaze upward as she thinks.

“He doesn’t make fun of you… or snipe at you, not really,” she begins, resting her head in her hand. “To be honest when we first met, I was expecting to defend you. You’re a good pilot, a great one, but Hangman isn’t exactly known for recognising that in others…”

You frown up at her, unsure of anything to say to abate her suspicions.

She’s not exactly wrong, even when the two of you were first stationed together, he’d never poked fun at you, never really called you out. To be fair, he hadn’t really acknowledged your presence at all, but these days you knew that was more to do with the fact that all this time, Hangman had liked you, had seen you were shy, and didn’t like crowds, and as you’d found out recently, often made more of a spectacle of himself to draw attention away from you.

You have to stop yourself from smiling dreamily at the thought of him.

“And I mean, he disobeyed direct orders for you, he knew what you were doing, and he went with you anyway… I’m just saying Miri, I don’t think you’d be disappointed if you were to say something–”

You quickly cut her off.

“I’m not saying anything to him!”

At last, given your already clear admittance of your supposed ‘crush’, Phoenix relents, holding up her hands and shrugging.

“Just think about it alright? It’s even sort of… cute, in a weird, Hangman-y way.”

You grumble at her, but thankfully she doesn’t bring it up again for the rest of the afternoon. Still, you leave the workshop with a sparkling helmet, cleaner than you think it ever has been, and with a pressing matter to relay to your boyfriend, most of which involves playing it much, much cooler in front of Phoenix the next time you all hang out.

-

You know you’ve made some personal growth when you answer the door in your matching Star Wars X-Wing PJ’s and slippers, and aren’t immediately mortified.

Jake stands there, already grinning back at you, and looking like a greek god sent to earth in his dark jeans and plain white shirt.

“Red Leader Mirage, your rescuer has arrived!” he announces, doing what you judge to be a surprising spot-on impression of Lt. Porkins from Star Wars, shooting a lazily salute down at slippers

Unfortunately, you aren’t given the chance to ask him more about his perfect Red Six however, as he’s almost immediately pushing away from where he’d been leaning against the side of your door, posing for your perusal you assume, and holds out a brown paper bag for you to take. You swipe it, and shoot him a thankful smile.

“Thank you, Jake, really…” you side-step his self-congratulatory jokes, but he doesn’t seem phased, simply shrugging, and taking a step closer to you, letting one hand rest gently on your shoulder, before he hooks it and tugs you into him.

You’d started getting all-too familiar with just how physically attentive Jake seemed to be, something you would never have guessed about him several weeks ago, but had come to terms with now. Clingy was never a word you would have used to describe him before. He hugs you briefly, then pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed and his expression filled with genuine concern, another thing you’d been getting more familiar with.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, inviting himself in by walking you backwards and kicking your door closed lightly behind him. You’d come not to mind this sort of thing either, but mostly because you know if you asked him to leave again, he would, no questions asked. That was another new thing you’d been learning about Jake Seresin.

In comparison to how Hangman could be up in the sky, Jake was entirely understanding, one hundred percent supportive, and almost a little too observant when it came to your particular anxieties. It meant he often knew without you saying when to push you, and when to not, and on the occasion that you did need to say, he always respected those boundaries.

It was starting to make you nervous, how much you were growing to like him.

“Cramps are kicking my ass, but other than that, mostly fine. Thank you for these,” you try again, hoping that he really understands just how much you appreciate him coming over for you tonight. Never in your life would you have imagined feeling comfortable enough to ask Hangman to stop by the pharmacy and pick you up sanitary products, and never would you have imagined he’d make no issue of it.

“Sure,” he says, again with a shrug. “You want me to head out?” he asks then, tipping his head back at your door, even as he inches his face closer to yours, brushing his nose tip against yours. Your lips quirk, then break out into a full smile when he grins before dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your stomach somersaults and pulls at least ten G’s for sure as he continues to brush his lips against yours teasingly.

This hadn’t taken much getting used to at all. Jake was a good kisser, and had proved it after your second date, almost in the exact place you were now, both his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips full on yours, hungry and insistent. That had been almost four weeks ago now, but after his hands had tugged your hips flush to his, you’d quickly put the breaks on.

You were still slightly uncertain about going further with Jake so soon. The fact was, you worked together in a high impact, high stress job, and if anything should happen between you, it would be easier to keep things professional if you took it slow

Jake had, to your slight surprise, though you aren't sure exactly what you were expecting, nodded slowly and taken a step back. He’d told you that the only thing he wanted more than you, was for you to want him too. You’d had to explain that your position wasn’t because you didn’t want him, which had led to more making out, but he hadn’t pushed to go further and he’d left that night with the affirmation that however long you wanted to wait was alright by him.

“No, you can stay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away too much as you try not to full-on pout. Jake smiles against your lips and presses into you further, moving to push you against the wall, where he crowds your space entirely and stops teasing you, capturing your lips with his at last.

You’re about to experimentally slide your hand up his shirt, a thought that had been lingering in your mind more and more these past few days, but your kiss is over too soon, and he pulls back, leaving you breathless.

“Weren’t you waiting for me, so you could do chores?” he prompts, nearly making you grumble. Instead you nod, and gently push back against him, heading towards your bedroom just down the main hall.

“You can wait in here if you like,” you suggest, feeling a little nervous about the idea, but it was something you’d been thinking about for a while now. Even if you and Jake weren’t sleeping together, that didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t sleep together, did it? It was something you’d wanted, specifically with him, but not really something you’d ever experienced before. You were ready to move out of these early stages of your relationship, eager to push yourself and your limits just a little, so you could settle into something more comfortable with Jake, something where you weren’t always a little surprised when he touched you, or called you by one of his innumerable pet names.

Jake shoves his hands in his pockets and nods, clearly thinking through what this invitation could mean as he follows you quietly.

“Um, I feel like I should say ‘excuse the mess’, but you know–” you cut yourself off and gesture around your bedroom when you both have entered. Jake snorts.

“Well that’s what being in the Navy gets you. I won’t judge if you say it anyway,” he tells you lightly, and you scoff.

“Yes you will!” you insist, and are met with a confident, familiar cheshire-grin.

“Mhm, but only a little. Have you changed your mind, honey?” he steps toward you again then, almost closing the distance in one stride, his hands still shoved in his pockets, but his gaze locked intently on you in a way you haven’t felt since that second date. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure he must be able to hear, but he doesn’t mention it, just waits for you, crowding your space again.

“Oh, I– No… not… I didn’t… I’m sorry…”

The moment you speak Jake is stepping back, pulling his hands from his pockets to hold them up, his expression losing the intensity again.

“No need to apologise, my mistake.” Jake’s words are sincere, but he looks away from you.

You let out a little sigh.

“It’s just so soon, and with the trial–”

“–You don’t have to explain yourself, honey,” Jake pulls his hands from his pockets at last and places them at your waist, drawing you in. You fall quiet as he lowers his face to yours, though he teases you again by not kissing you, simply looking you over, and then smirking when you pout. “You want it when you want it, and that’s when I want it, okay?”

He makes you nod, before he at last lowers his lips to meet yours and kisses you, slow and sweet. You finally get the chance to test the waters a little, easing your hand carefully underneath the back of his shirt, making you giggle against his mouth when he jumps slightly at the feel of your skin on his. Jake doesn’t say or do anything about it though, thankfully just letting you explore a little as he tips your head back further to deepen your kiss, and you brush your fingers up his spine.

After a short while of this, he must feel the urge to tease you again, because with little to no hesitation at all, unlike you, he slips his hands beneath your shirt, his warm palms gripping onto the bare skin just above your PJ shorts, almost making you moan. You’re glad you’re able to hold back the sound, mostly, but your own surprise doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond currently kissing you.

He only continues doing so for a short minute longer, before he’s eventually pulling back, lips pink and kiss swollen. You can’t help but frown at the parting. He squeezes your waist, and nudges your nose with his own.

“What do you want to do, honey?”

You groan at the apparent lack of making out in your future, not because you don’t think he’d agree, but mostly because you’re not quite ready to ask him for more, though a part of you senses he’s not willing to let you off the hook for those chores you’d told him about earlier.

“I need to fold this laundry,” you point past him, to your walk-in wardrobe and the basket that lies within. Jake looks over at it and lifts an eyebrow, which you choose to ignore. He nods then, and takes a step away from you, making you frown even more when his hands fall from your body.

“I’ll help,” he says, making your eyes widen, and you quickly step around him to block his path, where he is clearly about to make for your basket.

“No! Um… It’s okay, It’ll be easier if I just do it…” you trail off, wondering if you sound insane and neurotic, but Jake simply raises his hands again and nods.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” he prods, and you realise, he’s come inside thinking you want him to help with your chores.

“I was thinking… I was thinking it might just be nice for you to just… be here?” You cringe, and narrowly avoid making a face at yourself. Jake blinks at you as if he doesn’t understand.

“You want me to… sit around while you do laundry?” he asks, tone confused, but equally unimpressed. You nod. Jake shifts, then clicks his tongue. “I was not raised to let somebody work while I sit and watch, especially not my girl. My mother would tan my hide.”

You’re a little surprised by the seriousness on his face, despite the humorous inflection in his voice. You suck in a breath, mulling over how to explain to him what you had been thinking when he came inside. Jake’s eyes flicker over you for a moment before he shifts again, crossing his arms and lifting his chin at you.

“Alright sweetheart, just say what you gotta say, I can hear those cogs turning from here…”

“I… I like that you want to help me, I think that’s really sweet…”

“But…?” Jake prompts.

“I find this kinda thing hard, and I was hoping we could just try and do something… domestic…? Together?” your face goes hot at your admission, and when Jake doesn’t immediately respond you wonder if using the word ‘domestic’ was too much, too soon.

“What is ‘this kind of thing’? I get the other part honey,” again, his voice is playful, but you see the seriousness behind his eyes and it lends you even more comfort. How is he so good at this? It’s almost like he’d read your teenage diary entry all about your perfect guy… it's the sort of attention, care, and behaviour that you’ve never actually gotten from a guy you were seeing before, so you aren’t really sure how to compose yourself.

“This kind of thing,” you gesture between you and him, before clearing your throat. “I don't know what to call it– us, but–”

“–a relationship.” Jake cuts in firmly, and you pause, heart thumping. You hadn't actually had this discussion yet, but you guess you’re having it now.

“Right. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, but they’ve never really worked out and I feel like I never get to the point with boyfriends where I feel fully comfortable, so I–” you clamp your mouth shut, both at the use of ‘boyfriend’, and at the fact you were rambling, and you’re pretty sure it's too early to start telling him about how all your prior relationships failed.

“Right. So, let me get this straight; you were going to come back in here and put your laundry away, regardless of me being here?” Jake holds up a hand as he repeats back the information.

“Yeah…”

“And you just want me to keep you company?”

You nod, and clear your throat.

“Yeah.”

Jake stares at you, a level of understanding crossing his face, before his eyes flick to your laundry behind you, then back to your face.

“... And you’re sure I can’t help you?” His resolve sounds weak, and you think he’s already made up his mind to do as you asked, but his upbringing requires him to triple check. You smile, and this time step toward him, gingerly resting your hand on his arm, which he immediately raises, and flips, sliding it so now you’re holding his hand.

Again, you can’t fathom how he got so good at this sort of thing. Your knees go wobbly.

“I have a bunch of lacy unmentionables in there, so…” you try to lighten things, but it's not a lie. Jake picks up what you’re putting down, and gives your hand a squeeze. He tips his chin at you and lifts an eyebrow.

“Now why’d you have to go and say that honey? You sure you’re certain I can’t help?” his hands slip from yours to rest at your hips again, completely bypassing your top this time and your heart stutters.

You bite your lip, and nod your head, trying not to laugh him off fully, because while that may be your instinctual nervous reaction, you didn’t want to discourage him entirely. You liked that Jake acted as if you were a pretty girl, like you were desirable, and not like the awkward dork you actually were. You didn't want him to stop doing that.

His expression turns a little softer, and he leans down, moving slowly as to give you time to process, and he presses his lips to your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he taps your sides with his fingers, then steps away.

You’re still catching your breath when he looks back at you, pointing at what looks like one corner of your bed.

“Can I?”

You nod, and gesture at the whole mattress.

“Make yourself comfortable!”

–

You can feel the pounding music of the club in your whole body. The lights flashing and dancing in different colourways in time with the music give everything around you an ever changing aura, and maybe it’s all the drinks you’ve had tonight, but in front of you, Natasha seems to glow.

Her hands grasp your forearm firmly and you giggle, uncharacteristically carefree as you almost slip again.

“Alright! Okay, let's get you seated!” she says. She’s had a few too, but not nearly as many as you, and you’re glad for it now as she steers you toward the bar and grabs a paper cup to fill with water from the nearby water station toward the end. You find yourself drinking it without prompting, but miss the taste of the fruity cocktails you’d been downing all night. “I’ll call us a cab,” she says, beginning to pull out her phone, but you hastily stop her, placing a hand on her arm and shaking your head rapidly, making the colours spin even more.

“No! My boyfriend said he’d pick us up!” you insist, ignoring the way her eyebrows shoot up, then stitch together.

“You boyfriend?” she asks, but you miss the real question behind her words, instead you simply nod, and begin to fumble around in your own purse until you find your phone. Nat watches you expectantly as you open your messages, quickly tapping ‘call' on the top icon, and pressing the phone to one ear, and your finger to the other.

It rings less than once before it connects.

“Heeyy!” you sigh in relief down the line, happy to even just hear his voice after all night going without. “Yeah, no, everything’s alright, you just said to call you when we were done!” you say in reply to his amused questioning. You look up at Nat briefly, and if you were more sober, you might’ve been able to tell that she was leaning in slightly to try and hear the voice on the other end, but you aren’t, so you don’t.

“Okay, I’ll meet you out front!” you tell him excitedly, before adding on; “Is it okay if we give Nat a ride home too?” there's a short reply, and at last you’re smiling wide and nodding, even though he can’t see you. “Okay, we’ll see you soooon!”

You hang up and stare back up at Natasha, who's giving you a funny look that you ignore. “He said he’ll be here in ten, he’s been at the sports bar in town waiting!” you tell her dreamily, like she might understand what it means to you that Jake would choose to remain only a short distance away in case you needed anything, in the knowledge that you didn’t always enjoy nights out like this.

Nat simply nods and after making you drink one more glass of water, you begin making your way through the crowds and out of the club.

The air outside is warm, but refreshing and you take in as much of it as you can, not realising how stuffy the air inside the club had been until now. It was getting late, and bars and restaurants around the club are lit up and busy, the streets all around full of people either on their way to their destination, or lingering as they talk.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot Jake’s car and he pulls up close to the curb, allowing you to beeline for the passengers side door, not realising that Natasha follows with more confusion and trepidation. Jake jumps out of the car to greet you, rounding it to quickly steady your wobbly walk with a hand on your hip, and with the other, he pulls open the car door and helps you inside, leaning in to help you buckle in, grinning even as he murmurs quietly.

“You had a good night, sweetheart?” he asks, clicking your seatbelt into place for you, making you giggle at him. You lean forward for a kiss, but he dodges you, somewhat more aware than you are of your present company, and instead rests his hand so he can squeeze your knee. Your good mood isn’t spoiled and you barely notice the dodged kiss, so you simply nod your assent to his question vehemently.

“I had a lot to drink!” you tell him, before bursting out into giggles again, the soft, sweet smile Jake gives you going unnoticed as he squeezes your leg again.

“Yes you did,” he says with clear, fond amusement, and at last moves back so he can shut your door.

Unlike you, on the other hand, Natasha may as well be sober as a judge, and she eyes Jake somewhat distrustfully as she steps closer, lifting her chin up at him as she talks.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks accusingly, making Jake cock his head at her, only half as annoyingly as he can. He gestures back at you in the front seat of his car.

“Miri called, sounded pretty hammered,” he tells her as if that explained it. Natasha narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, but she said she was calling her boyfriend, what’re you doing here?” She dares him to reply with anything but the truth, however luckily for Jake, unlike most men caught in her crossfire, he’s able to brush her off with an infuriating grin.

“I guess she dialled the wrong number, do you want a lift home or not?”

At his ultimatum (however hollow it really is, he wouldn’t leave her on her own in the middle of the night), Natasha frowns darker at him, but accepts the door he opens, waiting for her to get settled before he closes it behind her and returns to the driver's side.

When Jake checks his rearview he notes in amusement that Nat has situated herself in the middle seat, giving herself a perfect view of the two of you in the front. You don’t, nor do you seem to have any weariness in the bloodhound you’ve just set upon the both of you, but if he’s honest, Jake had known from day one that the second Natasha Trace suspected anything, your little secret was over.

He drives back as normally as he can, but it's strange to him now to have you sitting right there in his passenger's seat, and not have his hand in yours, or on your thigh. It’s strange to him to be in this space where the two of you are usually so open with your affection, and have to suppress it. Jake does not like it.

The car ride home is quiet, you seem content to look out the window, the tiredness hitting you now, but every so often he and Nat make small talk about whatever football scores interested them in the past week or two, and before too long, he’s pulling up outside her home.

Looking over at you to find that you’re slumped over asleep on his window, Jake follows Natasha out of the car with a simple offer of making sure she gets in alright. The congeniality doesn’t last very long, and once they’re standing on her porch she turns to him with a frown.

“You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?” she asks, for once not sounding angry or scolding, but seemingly subdued, maybe even a little upset. Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Looking back to his car to make sure you’re still alright, he levels his squadmate with a serious expression.

“No, I do not,” he tells her sincerely. “But it’s Miri’s choice to not want to be public yet, all I’m asking is that you respect that,” he goes on after a moment. He doesn’t really believe she would say anything, but he feels the need to get her agreement, if only for your peace of mind in the morning.

Nat hums to herself and briefly looks away to fish out her keys. Once she has them in hand, she looks up at him again, a little grin on her face this time.

“How long?” she asks. Jake rolls his eyes and can’t resist the urge to mess with her just a little.

“Few years,” he states matter of factly, waiting for her eyes to pop wide before he lets out a victorious laugh and shakes his head. “A month or two,” he admits truthfully, accepting the hard sock in the arm as Nat scoffs at him and moves to unlock her front door.

“Something, something, I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her,” she grumbles as she steps inside, immediately kicking off her shoes. Jake straightens up and gives her a mock salute.

“Yes Ma’am,” he says, chortling to himself as he receives a middle finger for his efforts and the door is closed and locked again.

Jake feels a little lighter on his walk back to his car, and when he climbs in, he leans over to carefully adjust your crooked neck and make sure your belt is still strapped properly. You wake a little, confused at first, and blink up at him in happy wonderment.

“Hey!” you mumble, like it's the first time you’ve seen him tonight. Jake chuckles and leans closer to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get you home baby.”

–

You awake the next morning with nowhere near the headache you’re expecting, but with an array of distinct memories that cause a pit to open up in your stomach. The pit then begins to growl as you register the warm, homey smell of food, and with little effort, you force yourself up and into the kitchen, where you immediately attach yourself to Jake’s bare back.

His skin is warm and feels so comfy against your cheek, and the soft little laugh he gives makes your belly flop around. He lets you stay like that for a few moments more, moving slowly but smoothly so you can move with him, and at last when whatever he’s doing with his hands is finished, he reaches around for you and rests his hands where he can.

“Did I really call you last night? While with Nat?” you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’d just imagined it all, but another soft chuckle lets you know you hadn’t.

“Never thought you’d be the one to let our little secret slip first. I underestimated you baby.”

You groan into his back, and try to hide your face, but before you can complain or dodge him, Jake has turned himself around, letting you instead smoosh your face in between his gloriously golden pecs, and you think things may not be so bad.

He wraps his arms around you properly, and for a moment you just stay like that. You wonder if you can convince him to come around shirtless more often, the warmth radiating off his skin feeling heavenly, not to mention he looked almost as delicious as the food he’d made. You wonder if he’d already worked out this morning, or if you can join him after breakfast.

One of Jake’s hands moves away from your back and cups the back of your head tenderly, making you mewl slightly, and you look up at him to give the attention you know he’s asking for. Jake stares down at you with a soft little grin, and readjusts himself slightly, so he’s able to drop his lips to meet yours briefly.

One kiss becomes two kisses, becoming three kisses and after that any semblance of chastity is given up on and he kisses you full and sweet, deliberately slow like he’s teasing you to ask for more, but for now you’re simply content to wash away all of last nights worries like this.

Coming up for air, Jake barely breaks apart from you, his lips still brushing yours when he speaks.

“I asked Nat not to say anything, she respects you enough to do that I think,” he says, dropping a few more soft kisses to your mouth when you crane your neck up for more. He goes no further this time, though, and leans back from you to gauge your reaction after several moments, and you force yourself to open your eyes and pout.

“It’s not that I think she’ll tell anyone…” you say to him, scrunching up your features as you recall your lack of playing it cool the first time she had brought Jake up to you. The memory makes you grumble to yourself, and you once more attempt to hide your face in his chest. Jake laughs, and makes you jump when he pokes your side.

“What is it?” he asks, like he already knows. You tell him, voice muffled in his skin, but clear enough for the details of your embarrassing inability to throw the scent off to be heard. Jake’s body shakes with more laughter as you relay the information, but instead of trying to make you stop hiding away, he simply cups the back of your head again, and holds it nearer, allowing you to wither your embarrassment away in the safety of him.

“I think we both know that the minute that woman suspected anything, it was game over,” he tells you once you’re done, still holding you close, but you feel his lips press to the top of your head sweetly, and you do your best to snuggle yourself closer.

After the bulk of your mortification has eased away, Jake makes you detach from him, but only so the two of you can eat your breakfast while it’s still hot.

“You know I don’t want to keep it quiet, like, forever, right?” you ask out of nowhere, your memories of last night replaying over in your head while you ate. Jake looks up at you and cocks his head.

“I’m happy to do whatever you’d like to do, for as long as you’d like to do it,” he says matter of factly, but despite the sweetness of his words, you can’t help but frown at him.

“No you’re not, and we both know it,” you push back, grateful for his always tender manner of going at your pace, but you’d likely never have been with him in the first place if he hadn’t thrown you out of your comfort zone that first time.

The only difference is, now you are with Jake, and you understood these things about yourself, and how they weren’t always as scary as your mind might make them seem. Jake frowns back at you, clearly ready to protest.

“I know you pretty well too, you know,” you cut him off. “I know you like PDA, and that you wish you were able to be more open when we’re out with people. I know you like to show off, and part of that includes me,” you tell him adamantly, because you know you’re right.

Jake huffs out a sigh and leans back in his chair, looking at you dead on, you know him well enough to know he’s a little annoyed at you calling him out, but you aren’t doing it to annoy him or just for the sake of starting an argument.

“Okay, so what if I do? That doesn’t change the fact that until you want something, I’m not gonna go for it,” he says, still frowning at you like he doesn’t understand what the point of talking this through is even about.

You change tack and, with your heart beat thumping a little wildly, get up from your seat and move toward him. Even in his annoyance, Jake makes room for you, pushes out his chair and wraps his arms around your waist when you seat yourself on his thigh, your own arms linking around his neck.

“Well maybe I’m giving you permission to go for it,” you say softly, quietly, because the idea still does make you incredibly nervous. But you like Jake, no scratch that, you think you’re in love with Jake, and you think he’s in love with you too, and something about that feeling for once in your life makes you want the same things he does too, including the PDA. You want him to sling his arm around your neck, you want to be able to kiss his cheek or hold his hand or whatever it is you two want to do, not just in the comfort of your own homes, but out at the Hard Deck with your friends, too.

Jake blinks up at you, like at first your words don’t even register, but then he’s tightening his hold around your waist, and grinning wolfishly up at you, all cocky and infuriating if you didn’t find it utterly charming. If you didn’t completely adore him, even this part.

“Permission granted, Lieutenant?” he asks mischievously, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling, like you’re drunk all over again.

“Permission granted, Lieutenant!”

[moon-lit-petal]

From Chaos to Comfort Pt1

George Weasley x Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader

Summery: George becomes acutely awear that sometimes, people aren't the biggest fans of his and Freds pranks.

Warning: enemies to lovers(?) George fell hard and fast. I tried to do a slow burn but you can tell I gave up lol. Also, Y/N is a little mean to George Ngl

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: I have almost 12k words written already xD But after my 5k Neville fic, I figured I'd take this one a little slower and give myself time to proofread and make adjustments, for now? Chapter One!!also georges face in this Gif omfg

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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The quiet halls of Hogwarts were where Y/N felt most at ease—especially in the dimly lit corners of the library or the serene grounds at night, where the only sounds were the wind rustling through the trees or the occasional hoot of an owl. As a reserved Hufflepuff, she preferred these moments of tranquility, keeping out of the spotlight and far from the bustling excitement that so often dominated the school.

Unfortunately for her, Fred and George Weasley didn’t share her preference for peace and quiet. In fact, their favorite hobby seemed to be drawing attention to those who tried to hide from it—particularly Y/N.

On this particular evening, Y/N had settled down in the library with a stack of books, hoping to get some quiet reading done before the day ended. The library had a hushed atmosphere, with only the occasional whisper or the soft turning of pages to disturb the stillness.

But that all changed in an instant.

One by one, the books she had carefully chosen began to glow faintly before bursting into song—loud, off-key, and echoing through the entire library. It started with the first book in her stack, a thick volume of Transfiguration spells, which suddenly belted out a shrill tune:

"♬ I’m a magical tome, filled with spells and rhymes, cast a charm on me, and I'll sing for all times! ♬"

The next book joined in, followed by another, until her entire pile of books formed a chorus. Y/N could feel the eyes of everyone in the library turning toward her as the cacophony grew louder and louder. Laughter rippled through the students around her, and even Madam Pince, the strict librarian, seemed too flustered to immediately react.

Y/N's face flushed a deep red as she frantically tried to shut the books, but they wouldn't stop singing no matter how many times she slammed them shut. The laughter and whispers grew louder with each failed attempt. Her humiliation only deepened when she spotted the identical grins of Fred and George Weasley from across the library, clearly enjoying their handiwork.

That was the last straw. Furiously shoving the singing books into her bag, Y/N stormed out of the library, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could still hear the faint echoes of the enchanted books singing behind her as she hurried through the corridors, ignoring the amused glances and hushed snickers from passing students.

"I swear, I’m never speaking to either of them again," she muttered to herself, her fists clenched in anger. She couldn't even tell Fred and George apart half the time, which only made it worse. It was easier to avoid them both altogether, and that's exactly what she intended to do.

But deep down, a part of her wondered if it would be that simple. After all, it was Fred and George Weasley—masters of mischief. Avoiding them might prove to be an impossible task.

----------

In the days following the library prank, George couldn’t shake the memory of Y/N’s reaction. While Fred had laughed it off, pleased with how the prank had turned out, George had noticed something different—something that stuck with him more than he expected. He had seen the hurt flash across Y/N’s face, the way her cheeks flushed, not just with anger, but with humiliation.

At first, he tried to brush it off. Pranks were what he and Fred did. They brought laughter, lightened the mood, and sometimes, yes, embarrassed a few people in the process. It was all in good fun, wasn’t it? But George couldn't quite convince himself this time. For some reason, the image of Y/N storming out of the library, her fists clenched in frustration, kept playing in his mind.

Fred, on the other hand, barely gave it another thought, moving on to plotting their next grand joke. George, though, found himself paying more attention to Y/N in the days that followed. It wasn’t something he did consciously at first. He’d catch a glimpse of her in the corridors, her head down, her pace quick, always avoiding eye contact with others. In the Great Hall, she often sat at the very edge of the Hufflepuff table, picking at her food while quietly observing the lively chatter around her, as if she were a part of the scene but always apart from it.

The more George noticed her, the more his curiosity grew. Why did she keep to herself so much? Why did she seem to go out of her way to avoid people—even more so after their prank in the library? And why, of all things, did her quietness intrigue him?

During one particular afternoon in the library, George found himself sitting a few tables away from Y/N. She was engrossed in a thick book, her brows furrowed in concentration. He watched as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger, completely absorbed in whatever she was reading. There was something peaceful about her in those moments—a calmness that contrasted sharply with the chaos of his own life.

Fred, of course, remained blissfully unaware of George's growing fascination. He saw Y/N as just another target for their pranks, and to him, the twins’ antics were a way of livening up the mundane routines of school life. But George found himself torn. The more he observed Y/N, the more he realized that there was something about her that went beyond the surface—something he admired. She didn’t seek attention, didn’t thrive in the spotlight like so many others did. She seemed content in her own little world, even if that world often seemed lonely.

But Y/N, still furious about the library prank, had no interest in any of the Weasleys—least of all George, who she still couldn’t distinguish from Fred. As far as she was concerned, the twins were a package deal of trouble and mischief, and the less time she spent around them, the better. Whenever she caught sight of George, she would quickly turn the other way or disappear down a different corridor, determined to avoid them both at all costs.

George, however, wasn’t ready to give up just yet. The more Y/N distanced herself from him, the more he found himself wanting to understand her, to know what lay beneath that quiet exterior. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was curiosity, or maybe—just maybe—it was something more.

----------

The days at Hogwarts had grown increasingly tense for Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed impossible to escape the pranks that followed her like a shadow—pranks she was certain came from both Weasley twins. Whether it was her quill turning into a puff of glitter mid-essay or her robes suddenly sprouting a cascade of flowers, Y/N felt like a constant target. Every laugh that echoed in the hallways after a prank only deepened her frustration.

And George, always nearby—watching her, noticing her—was no exception in her mind. She never saw him without assuming he was plotting alongside Fred. Every time he appeared, she would tense up, bracing for whatever prank they’d cooked up next. To Y/N, they were the same—partners in crime who found amusement in humiliating others, especially her.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, George had slowly started pulling away from the pranks, his growing guilt making it harder to join in on Fred’s antics. He had tried to distance himself, letting Fred take the lead while he hung back, watching Y/N more than participating in the mischief. But to Y/N, it didn’t matter. She saw him as guilty by association, and every time she spotted him, her resentment flared.

The tension between them simmered under the surface, waiting to boil over. That moment came one afternoon when Y/N, in a hurry to get to her next class, rounded a corner and collided with someone—George.

The impact was sudden, and Y/N’s heart leapt into her throat. Her body tensed, and she flinched instinctively, taking a step back as if expecting an explosion of fireworks or an instant prank to follow. Her breath caught in her chest as she braced for whatever humiliation would come next.

But nothing happened.

George, equally surprised by the sudden collision, raised his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see—”

Before he could finish, he saw it—the way Y/N had recoiled at his touch, the way her eyes flickered with distrust, her whole body stiffening as if she were preparing for yet another prank. His stomach dropped at the realization.

“Y/N, I—” George began, but the words faltered. He could see the wariness in her expression, the way she avoided his gaze, the way her shoulders remained rigid, ready for disappointment. His chest tightened with a pang of guilt. She saw him as no different from Fred, no different from the pranks that had made her the center of unwanted attention.

Y/N didn’t give him a chance to explain. Without a word, she brushed past him, her shoulder grazing his as she hurried away, her head down.

George stood there for a moment, frozen in place, watching her retreating figure disappear down the corridor. Her reaction stung more than he’d expected. He hadn’t meant to scare her, hadn’t meant to make her feel like this. But how could he undo all the pranks that had come before, all the times she had flinched at the mere sight of him?

Fred’s voice echoed in his mind—“Come on, George, it’s all in good fun!”—but it no longer felt like fun to George. Not when he saw how deeply it had affected her. He clenched his fists, determined to show Y/N that he was different, that he wasn’t what she thought he was.

But for now, the tension between them lingered, thick and unspoken, a rift caused by misunderstandings and misidentification—one that George desperately wanted to bridge, even if Y/N wasn’t ready to see the difference yet.

----------

It was another dreary Monday morning in Potions, and the last thing Y/N wanted was to be paired with any of the Weasley twins. But, as fate would have it, Professor Snape announced the pairings, and her heart sank when she heard George’s name called alongside hers.

Y/N shot a glance at George, her lips pressed into a thin line. He walked over to her, offering a tentative smile. "Guess we're partners, huh?"

Y/N barely looked at him, focusing on gathering the ingredients from the shelf. "Looks that way."

George rubbed the back of his neck, sensing her reluctance. "Listen, I know you probably think I’m going to mess this up somehow, but I promise I’ll be serious about this. No pranks."

She finally turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

George chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “Well, considering my track record, yes. I really do want to help.”

Y/N sighed and handed him a few ingredients. “Just don’t blow anything up, and we’ll be fine.”

As they started brewing, the conversation remained minimal, but George kept trying to break the silence.

“You know,” he said, stirring the cauldron, “I’m actually pretty good at Potions. Don’t tell Fred, though. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Y/N gave him a sidelong glance, clearly skeptical. “Right.”

“Seriously,” George said, trying to sound casual. “You’d be surprised.”

Y/N couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at her lips, though she quickly hid it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

As the potion bubbled away, George continued to sneak glances at her, noticing the small expressions she tried to hide. There was more to her than her quiet demeanor, and it only fueled his curiosity.

“I’m not as bad as you think,” he said after a while, his tone more sincere this time.

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, focusing on measuring the next ingredient. “You still think this is all a game, don’t you? Even now.”

George’s smile faded, and for a moment, he looked unsure. “No,” he said quietly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N paused at his words, glancing at him again, this time with a hint of surprise. But before she could say anything more, the potion bubbled over, and they both scrambled to fix it, their brief moment of connection slipping away in the chaos.

----------

Later that week, Y/N was sitting in the library, trying to concentrate on her studies. The library was her refuge, a place where she could escape the noise and chaos of the school—and, more importantly, avoid the Weasley twins.

But just as she was getting lost in the words on the page, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Mind if I sit here?”

She looked up, annoyed to see George standing there with an uncertain smile. “The library’s big enough,” she replied coolly. “I’m sure you can find another seat.”

George hesitated, but instead of leaving, he sat down across from her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d talk to me after Potions.”

Y/N scowled, clearly frustrated. “Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to talk to you?”

“I figured as much,” George admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But I also figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

She huffed, focusing on her book again, though she wasn’t really reading. George’s presence was too distracting. He wasn’t like Fred. There was something quieter about him, something that made her defenses waver ever so slightly, though she hated admitting it.

After a few moments of silence, George spoke again. “I’m sorry for everything. I know Fred and I have caused a lot of trouble for you, and...well, you’re probably sick of hearing it, but I really didn’t mean to make things so awful.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to him, and she could tell from his expression that he was being sincere. But she wasn’t ready to forgive so easily.

“You think an apology will fix everything?” she asked, her voice sharp. “You and Fred don’t get it. You don’t care how it affects people, do you?”

George frowned, sitting up straighter. “That’s not true. I do care. Fred… well, he doesn’t think before he acts, but I see what it does to you. And I don’t like it.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, skeptical but slightly softened by his words. “Then why haven’t you done anything to stop him?”

George hesitated, looking away for a moment. “I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was for you until recently. But I’m trying now. I’m not like that, I dont mean to be. I want to be better.”

Y/N’s expression softened, if only slightly, as she studied him. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, but she wasn’t ready to let her guard down yet.

“Then prove it,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Stop making excuses and prove you’re different.”

George met her gaze, determination flickering in his eyes. “I will.”

They sat there in silence for a few more moments, the tension between them palpable. Y/N finally returned to her book, and George didn’t push the conversation any further. But something had shifted between them—a tiny crack in the wall Y/N had built around herself, and George had noticed it too.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[fallingdownhell]

Inazuma men when you walk in on them in an intimate position with your sister/best friend.

YES, some angsty shit again! Uhhh, I like it when it hurts xD

Characters Included: Ayato; Heizou; Kazuha; Gorou

Content: gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your friend/sister; cheating; hurt/no comfort; angst and drama; you walk in on them; suggestive on some parts; Gorou being manipulated; non-consent on Kazuha's part, but not explicit!!

Word count: 2,4k words

Thank you so much for giving me an angsty request. Have fun reading!

Ayato

He would think so high and mighty of himself

Like, he was sure that he was hiding it pretty damn well and that you would never find out about his little secret

you have been engaged to Ayato for some time now, the wedding due to happen soon

it has been a marriage of convinience, both for him as well as your family, yet you were relieved when you found out you were going to marry Ayato, having had a crush on him for a little over a year now

you thought that over the time he got to know you, he also developed feelings for you, he certainly did tell you so

for a long time, you were blinded by the illusion you so desperately wanted to believe, ignorant to the sad and sympathatic looks Ayato's staff would give you

You excused his long and late hours away from you, telling yourself that he was just catching up on work and that he was alright

You only started to get somewhat suspicious when you noticed one of your friends visiting the Kamisato estate rather frequently, but only ever staying for a short period of time, while she never even talked to you when here

still, you gave them both the benefit of the doubt, thinking that they might just be working on something together

Thoma, however, knew what was going on behind your back. He wanted to tell you on so many different occaisions, yet he had to think of his own job as well and how his actions could put himself at risk, as well. So, he never said a single word to you, keeping you oblivious

until one day, it was late at night again and Ayato told you he would be working late again

you nodded and let him get back to his work, but later decided to surprise him with some snacks and refreshments you wanted to bring him

you were feeling kind of giddy when you approached his office door with the tray in your hands, as you noticed weird sounds coming from behind the doors

you didn't want to believe your ears, this couldn't be happening.. not your Ayato..

so you pushed open the door slightly, enough for you to peek into the room, only to have your world crushed in front of your eyes, along with all your hopes and dreams for the future

your ears did not decieve you, Ayato was, in fact, cheating on you this very moment with the person you thought to be one of your best friends

what's even worse was that he noticed you, standing by the door, having caught them in the act

and all he did, was smirk at you as he leaned down and bit into the other womans neck to which she let out a loud moan

shocked, the tray slipped out of your hands as you turned on your heels and started running down the halls, tears streaming down your face

you passed Thoma on the way to your room who shot you another sympathetic look.

He knew it... he was in on it..

now it finally dawned on you, and it all made sense.. why everyone was always looking at you like this.. they were all in on it.. you were the only one who wasn't aware..

still crying, you grabbed a bag and took some of your most important belongings as well as some clothes, before you left this estate you once hoped you could call your home

seems like some things just weren't meant to work out in life...

Heizou

he wouldn't want to do it, but he would if he could get some kind of benefit from it

Heizou has always been a very flirty personality, even while in a relationship with you. It caused arguments on more than one occaision

he would always tell you that he would stop doing it.. that promise would sometimes last for a week, often times shorter than that, before he got right back to his usual behaviour

the worst part was, that he saw nothing wrong with this type of behaviour

as long as it got him the results he desired, he didn't care for the method he had to use

it was cruel in a way, but he didn't want to acknowledge that he could do wrong as well

when this particular incident occured was when he finally realized how wrong his attitude had been

he had been stumped on a particular case for a few days now, no new leads showing up and the trail was starting to get cold

it frustrated him beyond anything else and to top it off, he was currently engaged in yet another heated argument with you

you were ticked off by the way he was shamelessly flirting with a shopkeeper, right in front of you while on a date

he tried to explain that he just tried to get some clues out of her, but you didn't seem to want to hear it

after some more yelling, you left the house to catch some fresh air and cool off, while Heizou stayed back

he sat in front of his files again, trying to make sense of all the clues when someone knocked on the front door

he recognised your sister there and while he planned on sending her away at first, she made him an offer he just couldn't turn down so easily

spending one night with her in exchange for the missing clues he needed to solve this case

he didn't think long before agreeing to this deal

she entered the house and it didn't take long before things got heated and they both landed on the bed he normally shared with you

it didn't really feel right to do this, but he was doing it for the greater good. He's sure you would understand that

while they were in the middle of things, with her being on top, riding him, he suddenly heard the front door open and a sharp inhale being taken

he whipped his head around, seeing you standing there, looking shocked and hurt

immediately after that, you turned and ran out the door again, he saw tears beginning to form in your eyes. He wanted to get up and run after you, but.... he couldn't. He had to keep up his part of the deal. He could always talk to you the next day

when he sought you out the next day, you were refusing to speak to him.. and the day after... as well as the day after that

he was getting frustrated, missing holding you in his arms. He grew irritated without you around..

the next day, he saw you in the streets of Inazuma City, so he walked up to you

However, once he reached you, he was met with a slap in the face. It stung, and he looked at you in surprise

tears welled up in your eyes again as you turned and tried to leave again, but he quickly snatched your wrist, trying to explain his reasons to you

you stayed and listened, but your expression was hard and ice cold the entire time

"I hope it was worth it in the end, because you lost me for good now"

that was the last thing you ever said to him again before you left his life for good

and finally, Heizou understood what he had been doing wrong this entire time... and he regretted his decisions like nothing else in his life...

Kazuha

now for Kazuha... he is a very honest and loyal soul

you never would have thought that you had to worry about anything like that with him, already having bad experiences from a previous relationship

Kazuha always made time for you, made you feel loved and appreciated, always told you how much he loved and adored you, whishing you would stay with him forever

you honestly felt the same way about him, already imagining a future together with him

but... we all know how easily Kazuha can get drunk.. and just how drunk he gets from so few drinks..

you were going out with some of your friends to party a bit, and you decided to invite your boyfriend along

he didn't mind it, deciding not to drink anything so he could keep an eye on you and make sure you're safe throughout the entire night

it went well in the beginning. You were moderately drinking with your friends while he was sipping on whatever non-alcoholic beverage he ordered for himself

he always kept an eye on you, but at some point of the night, he lost sight of you

while walking around the vicinity, looking around trying to find you, he ran into one of your friends, who was obviously pretty drunk at this point

she clung onto Kazuha, staying close to him, slowing him down immensely

at some point, she offered him a drink. He refused at first, but she kept insisting, promising that it would be non-alcoholic

being the sweetheart that Kazuha is, he gave in after some time, only to realize too late that she had been lying, it was very much an alcoholic drink

but it was too late already, she forced him to down the glass and then another one right after, getting him drunk

in this state, he didn't have control over his mind or his actions, he just went along with whatever she said to him

so what if she suggested to go into an isolated corner so that they could have some "fun"

in his inebriated state, he didn't realize that the person he was doing it with, wasn't you

only when he heard a gasp and saw you standing there a few feet away from him did he regain some of his consciousness back

he saw the tears forming in your eyes and he tried to run after you, but even in your own drunken state, you were faster than him, he couldn't catch up to you

the next day, he woke up again with a severe headache but still perfect memory from the events of that night

he immediately set out to look for you, finding you rather quickly

you had dark circles under your eyes and they were red and swollen from all the crying

he apologized to you over and over, telling you what had happened. He hated himself for letting this happen to him, yet he was still more worried over you

it is up to you if you want to forgive him or not, he will accept whatever decision you make. Just know that he is so, so sorry and if you choose to give him a second chance, he will make sure that nothing like that will ever happen again..

Gorou

oh, poor little Gorou..

he is soo easy to manipulate.. people can tell him everything they want, and he is prone to believe them until proven wrong

he loves you dearly, with all his heart, but he often doubts himself, fearing that he's not good enough for you

so, when someone else comes along, planting even the faintest bit of doubt in his mind about your relationship, he grows restless and insecure

you, having already a strained relationship with your family, especially with your younger sister, spent most of your free time with Gorou, so normally, there wouldn't be anything for him to worry about, right?

Well, the thing is.. your sister has always had a thing for Gorou, even before you two got together. She neve told you about it, but ever since you made the relationship official, she hated you for it

she wanted Gorou all to herself, yet you were standing in the way of that goal. She had to get rid of you somehow..

the first few months of the relationship went by great, you were both so in love with each other

yet, after that, your sister started to visit Gorou whenever you weren't around him. You could be at work or out doing something.. she would be there visiting him, leaving again before you returned again

at first, it was just normal visits. She would simply talk to Gorou, asking him how his day went, getting to know him better. Though she asked to keep this meet-ups a secret from you, since she claimed she wanted to reconnect with you on your terms alone

Gorou, being non the wiser, agreed to that

this went on for a while until she started to plant seeds of doubt in his mind. Spreading rumors to him how you were meeting up with some other guy, how the meet-ups became more frequent, that you were probably cheating on him, and so on

Gorou didn't want to believe her, choosing to trust you. But, being so gullible, he started to see things that weren't actually there. He imagined you coming home later than usual, thinking you were avoiding his gaze

he didn't want to admit it, but with every further visit from your sister, he believed her more and more, now doubting everything about your relationship with him. Did you ever even love him?

the final part of her plan came, when she convinced him to sleep with her to "get you back for cheating on him first"

it felt wrong to him, but he still went along with the idea. At some point, he did get into it, not noticing how you came back earlier than usual, flowers in your hand..

those flowers immediately dropped to the ground as you realized what you just walked in on..

and in that moment did he remember.. today was your anniversary.. 6 months togehter...

he immediately ripped himself off your sister, calling out your name, but you were already out the door. He quickly threw some clothes over himself to run after you, but your sister caught his wrist, begging him to stay

he paid her no mind and ran after you, yet he wasn't able to find you, no matter where or how hard he looked..

defeated, he returned to his place, curling in on himself.. tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he's gonna find you and talk to you..

however, the next day, he found out that you had left Watatsumi Island.. you went and found Kazuha, leaving Inazuma with him on the Alchor..

you were out of his reach, forever now, and it was all his fault.. he had no one else to blame but himself for his stupid actions.. he lost the best thing that ever came into his life, and he would never get you back...