#I would like to do more things but see the thing about being awkward--

[bokutosbabe]

It Always Leads To You

( bllk boys as situationships )

a/n — girl whose never had a situationship writing about them? what could go wrong? (they progressively get longer lol)

content — some nsfw but not explicit, pining, GN! reader, some characters repeated, all characters are 18 or 18+

synopsis — what kind of situationship the bllk boys would be

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and the heart i'm breaking is my own ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' but you're best friends! '

you'd rather spend money on a hotel than stay at home 24/7 for the next week. how could you walk into your house when you knew he'd be there, chatting with you family as if nothing had changed?

maybe you should've pretended you had to work.

that would have saved you the grief of having to see, who was supposed to be, your best friend. how could you face him when the last thing you two talked about was being a couple and that...not going as planned.

well, maybe that wasn't the last thing you two talked about with each other. however, does defiling your families bathroom really count as 'talking'? ( most awkward easter ever afterwards ) you didn't really think so.

whatever, he was a pro-soccer player now, he may not even be at home this christmas. you'd just have to put up with his family, who you'd always loved, and then you could go home and avoid the situation until the next big holiday.

but of course, when you stepped into your childhood home you realized that you'd never get that lucky. there he was, just as handsome as ever, sitting on your families couch.

in your eyes, he looked like he belonged with your family more than you, but you supposed he earned that. he came home every holiday, unlike you who continuously came up with different reasons to stay as far away as possible.

if you left now, maybe no one would know you'd even shown up-

" woah, y/n! it's you! " or...maybe not. " i haven't seen you in forever, what have you been up to? " the voice that plagued your every waking thought crashed its way into your ears.

your best friend ( could you even call him that anymore? were you still his best friend? ) got up from his spot on the couch to come wrap his arms around you in a hug that felt more like home than home did.

" i've missed you, ya know? " he whispered in your ear, hands caressing your back in what felt like much more than what a 'friends' hug would be.

just a week. you could survive and coexist with him for a week. your resolve to never sleep with him set in stone now.

you just wished your resolve wouldn't have crumbled only two days later while your family was downstairs watching christmas movies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, AIKU OLIVER, rensuke kunigami, TOBITO KARASU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the ' you cannot date them '

you’re a good person... or at least, you want to believe that. But how can you when your best friend sits in front of you now, talking about their ex?

she’s raving about how much she misses him, how everything fell apart at the worst time, how she’s still holding onto the hope that maybe they can fix things.

you try to smile and nod, pretending that you’re not dying inside. how can you even look her in the eye when he’s blowing up your phone right now? when you know exactly how he feels about you?

“it’s just so messed up, right?” she laughs nervously, like this is all just a bad breakup, nothing that can’t be smoothed over. “i’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

she doesn’t know that you already did something. You already did the one thing that could ruin everything. the one thing that she told you you could never do.

your phone continuously buzzing while she's talking, hoping she wouldn't notice you reach for it to silence it while she takes a sip of her drink.

your phone vibrates again, and you try not to look at it. you’re not sure if you’re worried that she’ll see, or that you’ll see what he’s saying. you’re scared of both.

him <3 ; are we still on for tonight? can’t wait to see you.

that familiar ache forms in your chest, and you can feel the betrayal to your friend, the confusion about your own feelings, but worse—there’s nothing you can do about it. you keep smiling, even though it feels like your heart’s sinking with every word your friend says.

" god, if you don't want to listen to me, just say so. " your friend says coldly. " i would have turned off my phone if it was you crying right now. "

" sorry, it's just my mom...talking about some new present she wants to get my brother. " you apologized. "oh, okay. is your brother a cutie?" you didn't even have a brother, showed how much she knew about you.

“whatever, what should i do?" your friend asks, her eyes bright with hope (or maybe delusion). "do you think I should text him? do you think we could still fix things?”

you want so badly to tell her the truth.

you want to be honest, to say what she needs to hear so that she doesn’t get her hopes up.

you want to tell her that he is already texting you, that maybe you are the reason he won’t talk to her.

but instead, you bite your lip and offer a shrug. "i don't know, honestly. maybe he needs time to figure out what he wants too."

"he doesn't need time. he needs me." she mused, staring at you like your answer was just the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. "no wonder you've never dated anyone, who'd like a ditz like you?"

The whole time, your phone is buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, like a constant reminder of your lie.

you; see you tonight :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ OTOYA EITA, ikki niko, RANZE KURONA, reo mikage, RYUSEI SHIDO

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧the... ' you'll never be first '

he's leaving soon, and you feel like you're dying.

you’d known for a long time that ‘casually’ seeing a pro soccer player would only lead to being left alone, especially someone like him—someone whose work always came first, and whose heart was as unreachable as the trophies he collected.

he’d said it more times than you could count: “love doesn’t come before soccer. It never will.” and you’d laughed, maybe even agreed at some point, understanding it was just the way things were.

so why does it feel like you’re drowning now, with him leaving just around the corner.

it doesn’t make sense. you’d known the deal from the start.

still, here you are—sitting in his bed, in the quiet of his room, the familiar hum of the city outside reminding you of how little time you really have left with him.

his suitcase is by the door, already half-packed, his jersey draped over the chair where he’d left it, as if he couldn't get out of here fast enough.

you’re almost sick to your stomach at the thought of him walking out that door in just a few days, never looking back.

you’ve spent enough time with him to know that when he leaves, he doesn’t look back. he doesn't look back at stadiums once he walks out, and he wouldn't look back at you either.

"it’s only a few months," he’d said, trying to make you feel better when the topic of him leaving first got brought up. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

but that’s not the point.

it’s never been the point.

you know he’ll be busy with games, traveling, sponsors,...women, all the things that make him too far to reach.

and yet, here you are, sitting in his bed, heart pounding, overwhelmed with the thought of it all ending. you thought you could handle this.

you thought you could be just another notch in his belt. but the truth is, you’ve been fooling yourself. you care too much. you’ve fallen for him, hard, and the worst part is—he doesn’t even realize it.

or maybe he does. maybe he’s known all along, and you were too scared to admit it.

the sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"hey, you okay?"

you glance over at him, watching him fiddle with his phone, one hand propped up on the headboard. his eyes meet yours, something in them that almost makes you believe he could stay. maybe, you're enough of a reason for him to stay where he is now.

but he won’t. you know that. his life is bigger than you. bigger than this city, this bed, and every memory you’ve shared together.

you nod, forcing a smile, trying to keep the strange bitterness from slipping into your voice.

"yeah, just thinking."

"don’t think too much." his lips curl up into that calming grin that’s made you feel better on several occasions. how could something that used to calm you make you feel like your heart was in your throat? “you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

it’s easy for him to say that. he’s used to moving on. he’s used to leaving. you? you're used to him being here.

his fingers tap absently against the screen of his phone. you can see the notifications lighting up���his agent, a few teammates, probably his parents, all reminding you of the inevitable: he’s leaving soon.

you want to scream. you want to ask him why he doesn’t care. why it’s so easy for him to slip away from everyone who loves him.

but instead, you pull your knees to your chest and keep your eyes fixed on him, as if the longer you look, you could magically gain telepathy to make him want to stay with you.

"how’s your flight looking?" you ask, hoping his answer would be that he cancelled it.

"all set."

and you can't breathe.

the casualness in his voice is what stings the most. the way he talks about leaving as if it’s just another day at the office, another game to be played.

he doesn’t get how you feel. maybe he can’t. maybe he’s just too busy not feeling anything.

The silence is deafening.

"do you... do you ever wish you could just stay?"

It’s a question you didn’t mean to ask, but it escapes before you can stop it.

You wish you could take it back the second it leaves your lips.

he looks up at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes soften. for one second, he looks like he is completely and utterly yours.

he sets his phone down, sliding it onto the bedside table, then turns his full attention to you.

"i told you, didn’t i? love doesn’t come before soccer."

The words hit you like a train, but it’s not the truth that hurts—it’s the way he says it, like it’s not up for debate. as if it’s always been this way, and it always will be.

why can't he just try? just try to come home every so often...to you.

you feel like a fool. as if you've put your heart on display for him just to not even glance your way.

you know where you stand, even if it’s tearing you apart.

he doesn’t lie to you, doesn’t promise you things he can’t give, and maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place—he was the first person who didn’t play games with you.

"i’m gonna miss you," you say quietly, knowing that admitting it aloud makes it even worse.

his eyes flicker with something, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. he shifts, pulling his knees up to match yours, as if to say he’s close, but still so far. he rests his head back against the headboard.

and for a moment, you almost forget he’s leaving. you forget about the suitcase by the door. you forget about the plane ticket he has. you forget that in just a few days he wont be yours anymore.

"i’ll miss you too," he says softly.

but that’s it. that’s all he says. it’s not a promise, not a declaration. just another passing remark to fill the silence.

he doesn't mean it. it's more of a kindness thing for him to say it back.

you can feel the weight of everything unsaid.

you realize—he doesn’t know how much you care. He can’t understand you.

he’s never been asked to stay.

you’re not even sure you’d want him to. you can’t ask him to change his life for you. and you couldn't keep up with the lifestyle he lives.

the idea of him walking away—of losing him to something bigger, to something you’ll never be able to keep—feels like it will break you.

so you just lie down on his bed, for the last time, you tell yourself.

'after tonight, he'll be free of me'

after tonight, you'd walk out that door and not look back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' to leave the warmest bed i've ever known ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

again, i've never experienced this, so i hope the research i've done (looking up different types of situationships) has done it justice!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[moni-logues]

Reciprocity

Pairing: Yoongi x afab reader (Kintsugi couple) feat. A Fine Line Couple

Genre: established relationship

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: A couples' holiday with Suri and Namjoon highlights a particular problem between you and Yoongi.

Content: one reference to self-harm (cutting) but discussion of scars, oral sex (f. receiving), discussions of sex life stuff?, i guess some poor communication, overheard sex

A/N: yes, it's me once again with my favourite characters no apologies. i have been thinking about this since maybe even before i finished the series??? and i'm glad to have it finally out of my head. this is unedited and unbeta'd, written by me in the course of this one single day and well, here we are. This is set in the summer, somewhere a few months after the ending of the series.

* * *

“It’ll be fun!” 

Yoongi just nodded and continued carefully folding clothes and packing them in a bag.  

“You don’t want to come,” you continued, heart sinking a little. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Tell your face.” 

He smiled then but didn’t want you to see it, turned around to fetch underwear from a drawer. When he turned back, his face was schooled into something a little more neutral, polite. 

“I’m not saying it’s my first choice of holiday,” he explained, “but I want to go.” 

“Good, because you’re coming whether you like it or not!” 

You hopped off the bed, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then moved into the kitchen to prepare snacks for the road. At the advice of your therapist, you were taking Yoongi at his word: if he said he wanted to come, you would believe him and it was not your responsibility if he was lying. Even though it felt like it was.  

A week in the sun had been your initial suggestion. Somewhere where the heat wasn’t a curse, but a blessing. Clear blue skies and cool water. Peace. Unbridled joy where the real world couldn’t touch you. Even you weren’t entirely sure when it turned into a couples’ holiday, but it was an idea that neither Suri nor Yoongi would ever come up with, and you weren’t sure about Namjoon so it must have been yours. Sounded like the sort of thing you would say. Yoongi had said yes and let you do the research, find somewhere not too far away, easy to get to but far enough to feel new, to feel fresh.  

He had been fairly tight-lipped about it since then. Got a little quiet when you brought it up, when you showed him tourism websites with activities laid out. He insisted he wanted to come but never quite managed to muster up the level of enthusiasm you’d hoped for. In a way, that was just Yoongi being Yoongi, but there was anxiety in you, too, and it was making you sensitive. You could see everyone hating the idea, hating the trip, having the worst time. The awkward silences, arguments about what to do or who should clean what. Namjoon had joked that he would have to force Suri to come and he had said it with a laugh but you knew it was true.  

You turned your head and looked out of the car window at the increasingly green scenes around you and bit your lip. It felt incongruous somehow to not be happy and peaceful when the environment was so lush and bright with life. With ease. With a natural kind of solidity that had stood for hundreds or thousands of years and was still standing. You felt small and silly to be worried about this but it didn’t stop you worrying. Yoongi’s hand found yours and, like it always did, made a warmth start in your heart. You closed your eyes for a second of intense gratitude and then turned to him. 

“It’ll be fun,” he said.  

And it sounded like he meant it. 

* 

You and Yoongi arrived first, took the back bedroom overlooking the lake at Yoongi’s insistence because it was the better view. You had stopped on the way for groceries and you stocked the fridge, took out food to cook for dinner, since it would be about that time when Namjoon and Suri arrived.  

The cabin was wooden and new, so new it still smelt literally pine-fresh. The sun was just starting to dip, dripping golden light over everything, spreading a thousand tiny diamonds on the surface of the lake. It couldn’t have been more picturesque. It made you want to send a postcard for the first time since you were a child.  You settled for texting photos to Taehyung who told you to stop messaging him. Your ripples of anxiety were peaking, anticipating Namjoon and Suri’s arrival and what sort of dynamic it would bring, how it might disturb the peace of this place.  

Yoongi tore you from the window and asked you to start peeling vegetables. You were glad of the task. 

“-t I don’t want to be here, it’s just going to be weird.” 

Suri’s voice came from the hallway and you froze. So did Yoongi. 

“I don’t know why you keep saying that-” Namjoon - “it’s not as if we’ve never spent time with them. You like them.” 

Suri’s hum in response sounded unconvinced.  

You heard the kicking off of shoes, could follow their footsteps into the living room, around the corner from the kitchen where the two of you were hidden. Yoongi put down his knife and moved to go, intercept them before they said something you didn’t want to hear, but you put a hand out to stop him. Your stomach was sick but you had to hear it. Whatever it might be.  

“She’s jus-” 

And they rounded the corner into the kitchen, stopped in their tracks when they saw you. 

“Hey!” Namjoon was the first to recover. “We didn’t know you guys had arrived already! Where have you parked?” 

“’Round the back,” Yoongi answered. 

He was looking at Suri and you were looking anywhere but. Face burning with shame—that this was your idea, that it was all your fault, that you should’ve made you presence known earlier, that no one except you wanted to do this—you swallowed and smiled as brightly as you could. 

“You made it!”  

Your cheer sounded forced to you; maybe Namjoon and Suri wouldn’t hear it. Maybe they would believe you. 

“Public transport is a fucking nightmare,” Suri said with feeling.  

“I told you we could’ve rented a car,” Namjoon replied as if they had had this argument already. 

“I’m not driving in these hills! You should do it. Right?” 

You flinched when she turned to you and realised you had to answer. 

“Uh-” 

“Yoongi drove, right? Literally what are men good for if not chauffeuring you around?” 

It was a lifeline for her, really, but you took it readily, gladly, anything to drive over the awkwardness and shame you were feeling. 

“She has a point, Joon,” you said, grinning at him. “You could at least get a licence.”  

Namjoon rolled his eyes indulgently, let you and Suri rib him a little more, smoothing things over at his own expense. You were deeply grateful.  

“Come and help us do dinner,” you said, ferreting out more chopping boards from the cupboard, handing over knives and ingredients.  

It would be fine, you told yourself as you diligently and with great focus, chopped an onion. It would be fine. It would not be weird. It would be fine. It would be fine.  

* 

It was fine. Dinner was cooked and eaten and cleaned up after. Drinks were taken on to the back porch, overlooking the lake, the heat lingering long into the darkness. It was not dissimilar to the other dinners you had had as a foursome. As long as you could forget what Suri might have been about to say, you were sure you could have a good time.  

* 

You woke the next morning, sun streaming sharply through a gap in the curtains. You rolled over, tucked yourself into Yoongi’s side even though you were already hot and sticky. You were willing yourself to fall back to sleep, even if just for a few minutes, and then you were sitting, eyes wide, ears trained.  

There was no mistaking the sound of other people having sex. You grimaced, settled back down in bed and pulled the covers over your head. 

“What?” Yoongi mumbled, not so much a word as a sound. 

“Can’t you hear them?” you asked in a stage whisper. 

Another grunt from Yoongi. Then you felt his body tense, followed by a sigh and a sleepy chuckle. 

“You’re the one who wanted to come on holiday with another couple.” 

You whined, prodded him sharply in the chest. 

“Not because I was anticipating this! Do they have to be so loud?” 

“This place is not exactly well sound-proofed.” 

“I so don’t want to hear this.” 

“Go back to sleep,” Yoongi said and he sounded like he was already halfway there himself.  

“I don’t know how you can sleep now that you can hear that.” 

Merely a hum in response. 

You lay for a few minutes, desperately trying not to hear the only noise in the house, and then you gave up. Threw back the covers and went into the bathroom to shower. The rush of the shower might not exactly cover it but it would give you something to do.  

* 

“Hey,” Yoongi greeted the other couple when they came out to join the two of you on the back porch, where you were sitting with coffee and fruit. “Just a quick request: could you please have louder sex? I’ve been getting a little too much sleep recently.” 

You and Suri both froze and you saw the blood swarm in her cheeks, red and hot. Namjoon just laughed.  

“I’ll see what we can do.” 

Suri swatted him harshly on the arm and he barely noticed, slung said arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissed her on the top of her head. If he felt embarrassed or awkward about it, it wasn’t showing. What was it like to be so self-assured, confident, relaxed about everything? Even with Suri’s face still pink, her mouth pulled into a scowl, furiously glowering at her boyfriend, he looked easy, his smile gentle and eyes bright. You envied him. You still felt silly and embarrassed about the previous evening, and embarrassed about hearing them have sex; he didn’t seem embarrassed at all to be heard.  

* 

Yoongi had insisted on washing up after breakfast. Didn’t let anyone else so much as carry a bowl back to the kitchen. He was taking his time on it, deliberately, carefully, putting off what he knew could not be avoided.  

He was rarely unaware of his own body. Vigilant at all times about its exposure. He had suffered years of summers under long sleeves and trousers, would suffer higher temperatures, more humidity if he had to. He regretted everything he had done to himself, but not in a way that prevented him doing it again. No amount of shame or embarrassment would stop him, it seemed. Not that it happened much these days, but the possibility was always there.  

Even when he was with you, he couldn’t let go. Even though you were sweet and kind and loving. Even though he knew there was a part of you that understood. Even though he could kiss your thighs where you had cut them and love you so much that it hurt, love your skin, love your scars (hate that you had them). Even though you kissed him, all over, generous and unsparing, even though you said you loved him, all the parts, every bit of him. He knew what he was and he found that breaking the habit of hiding himself was harder than the hiding had been in the first place. 

With his task finished, and all the others he had made up for himself (cleaning counters, fluffing cushions, clearing the dryer of lint even though they hadn’t used it), he had come to the point he could no longer avoid. He moved slowly up the stairs, towards the bedroom you and he were sharing; he stopped halfway up. He could see you through the door, left ajar.  

Your bikini was floral, cutesy, every bit you. The smile formed on his mouth before he had registered the sight. Then it was wiped away because he saw your face: your worried eyebrows, lip caught between your teeth. Your fingers ran over the scars on your thighs; your face turned towards the window, from which point Yoongi knew you could see Namjoon and Suri, already out, lounging. He could see cogs turning in your head, first this way then that.  

And then it wasn’t just the scars. You fussed with the top, fussed with the bottom, turned in the mirror to check yourself from the side, twisted your head around to catch yourself from the back. You ran a hand over your face. You picked up a slip of fabric—some kind of cover-up, a dress?—and held it up against yourself. 

He knew he shouldn’t be spying like this. He wanted to leap the remaining stairs and take you into bed where he would show you exactly what he thought of your body: your perfect, desirable, soft, body that he loved and loved to love. He wanted, briefly, to throw Suri in the lake and hope there were eels because he knew you were still thinking about it: last night.  

He knew that it didn’t matter much what he did because it wasn’t that easy. It wasn’t as easy as being told you were fine. He knew because you told him all the time but he still felt like there was something wrong with him.  

He carried on up the stairs and knocked on the door as he entered. Your face was immediately bright, free from clouds, as clear as the sky outside.  

“Coming outside?” you asked as he moved in closer, couldn’t stop himself kissing you just once, putting all his love into it, however brief, however small. 

“Yeah, just coming. You go ahead.” 

You nodded and skipped out and there was a deep tug in his chest. There was a pit of snakes in his stomach but, fuck it, he’d been bitten before. Everyone out there beside the lake knew him, knew what he was if not in full, lurid detail. He took a deep breath and fished around in the bottom of his bag for the pair of swimming shorts he had bought in a moment of madness and packed because he wanted to make the effort for you. He hadn’t expected to wear them—they were still fully tagged and pristine, ready for refunding—but here he was.  

He hadn’t anticipated the difficulty. He sat for ten minutes at the dining table in the kitchen, willing himself to get up and go outside. His legs weren’t all that bad, not the lower half. No one would care. You’d seen them before anyway. It wasn’t a big deal. He was telling himself all the right things but he couldn’t make himself move because he was thinking about all the people who’d seen him in his grossest state. Thought of the things some of them had said. Thought about their reactions. Thought about yours. Tried to focus on that. Reminded himself that it was you out there and his best friend. Suri was still a question mark but he also thought that she could go fuck herself if she had a problem with it because he was still prepared to fight her for potentially upsetting you. 

“I don’t know. I’ll go and see where he is.” 

Your voice floated over to him and that was it, the alarm call, the deadline reached. He stood from the chair and made himself move with he didn’t know what power.  

“Hey!” you cried, arms outstretched to welcome him as he approached the group. “I was just coming to look for you—thought you might have got lost.” 

He smiled, let you kiss him on the cheek, direct him into a sun lounger, sit down with him on it, not quite in his lap but almost.  

Suri raised a hand in way of a greeting; she was flat on her back, sunglasses on, straps of her bikini tucked away, her tiny body sizzling in the sun. Namjoon sat next to her, under the shade of a parasol, dug out of the cabin’s garage, book in hand. He nodded at Yoongi and kept reading. 

“I’m going to go in the lake,” you said, one hand resting on his calf. “Do you want to come?” 

He was putting all his energy into not looking where you were touching him, not noticing, pretending that this wasn’t the first time for he couldn’t remember how many years that he’d not been fully covered in front of people. He wasn’t sure what his face said, if his mouth said anything at all, but you were standing and holding out your hands for him so he must have said yes, let you lead him to the edge of the water and then jump in.  

The water was colder than he’d expected. He gasped and swallowed a lungful, came up spluttering. He wiped the water from his face and pushed his hair back. He blinked the water from his eyes and each frame brought you closer, until your arms were around his neck and your lips on his.  

“I love you, you know that?” 

He nodded. 

“I love you, too.” 

“I know.�� 

Did you? Did you really know the full depth and breadth of it? The way he loved you was desperate and whole. He had loved desperately before, loved anxiously, a long time ago when he still thought it was possible he could be loved. There were times when it terrified him. You terrified him because you loved him and it was impossible. Panic seized him and he wanted to run, run anywhere, get as far away as possible until you and your enormous heart were nowhere to be seen. Then you would call him or you would touch him and the panic disappeared, a low-grade anxiety in its place.  

He hadn’t realised he had given up on it. Before you let him kiss you, before you kissed him back and said things he never believed he would hear, he had retired the idea of being loved. It wasn’t for everyone and it wasn’t for him. He took what he could get and accepted that his lot in life was nothing more. But he met you and it hit him square in the face: that he’d stopped expecting joy. That he was fine because he never expected what he deeply and desperately wanted: to be loved. 

And that’s why you were terrifying. Because he was getting used to you. Getting used to being wanted. Getting used to the idea that he could be wanted. Sometimes he thought he was expecting it. Expecting you to let him in your arms, in your life. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t owed anything, didn’t deserve anything. It was the other way around: he was in debt for everything he had been given by you, for being given you at all. 

* 

They say if you can’t beat them, join them. It was an expression Yoongi was apparently taking very seriously, as he slid his tongue down your torso, fingers already slipping through your lips, sinking deep into your soft, wet hole.  

You were less keen to join Namjoon and Suri in being overheard so you pressed a pillow to your face and moaned into it, still louder than you’d wanted to be. You bit down hard on your lip as your back arched from the bed. Every time, it was an aria performed like a concerto, Yoongi doing the work of a full orchestra suite at once. It was lethal and moving the ease with which he played you and it was somehow never the same twice. Never had anyone spent as much time with his face between your legs and it showed: he had learnt, with apparent ease, seemingly everything about what got you off: had learnt how to do it in a rush, how to take his time, how to make you squirt (a surprise more to you than him), how to edge you until you wanted to die, how to make you come and somehow keep coming. He had, on one unfortunately memorable occasion, given you a charley horse and a third orgasm simultaneously.  

You were approaching your second now, with sweat seeping into the bedsheets, and Yoongi’s tongue laving at your clit, his fingers rocking inside you. It was suffocating with the pillow smothering you, your hot breath making it damp, your breathing thick and swampy so it made you light-headed. You couldn’t have kept any quieter even if you’d be able to try; all your attention and energy fell on the mouth at the apex of your legs and the fingers inside you. An experience so in-body, it almost pushed you all the way out again, like your consciousness was hovering outside your skin, alert and alive, an electrical wire in a puddle of water.  

You came hard and gasped for breath when you pulled the pillow from your face. Yoongi kissed his way back up to you, sticky marks all over your sweat-wet skin. He was damp, too, tiny curls of hair stuck to his forehead, the T-shirt he slept in stuck to his back. You peeled it back, ran your hands over him, were reaching for the waistband of his boxers when he pulled away.  

“I’ll wash up and then make breakfast, sound good?” he asked, climbing out of bed and reaching for trousers. 

The words died in your mouth. You could see that he was hard, see the discomfort in the way he adjusted himself as he dressed; you wished you could see into his brain. It wasn’t the first time, not even the second or third and you didn’t want to have the same conversation again, with another couple in the house, with company. Knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere if you did. Knew he would not fuck you nor would he give you a real reason why not. You rolled onto your side, away from the door and pulled the covers around you, despite the heat, despite the sweat. You lay and you stewed and you wondered just what exactly you were doing wrong. 

* 

You tried to forget about it and it had been easy until you glanced over to see Namjoon swat Suri’s backside with his book, saw her retaliate by squirting water on him from her bottle, saw him pull her down in a tumble that was entirely playful until she kissed him. You turned away because you’d already heard enough, you didn’t need to see their foreplay.  

* 

“Did you guys buy ice-cream?” Suri asked later that evening. 

“No,” you answered. “Do you want some?” 

Suri nodded. 

“Yeah, there’s a shop down the road; I’ll go and get some. Anyone else want any?” 

“I’ll come, too!” 

Suri looked surprised, her mouth open (to put you off), then she shut it and shrugged. 

“Ok.” 

It was quiet, initially, just the soft rush of wind in the tops of the trees and the slight crunch of the gravel track under your feet. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

The rhythm of Suri’s feet faltered and then started smoothly again. Her answer was slow to arrive. 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Embarrassment was worming through you, on its way to stifle you, to choke you so the words wouldn’t come out. 

“You and Namjoon have good sex, right?” 

Suri didn’t just falter but stopped completely. She looked at you guardedly, suspicious. You could feel her attempting to put distance between you, even as her feet kept still. 

“Is that... ar-, we’re trying to be quiet,” she answered eventually. 

You laughed not because it was funny but because you were nervous. 

“No, it’s not about that. It's... I mean, you do, right?” 

“Yes.” 

You were stuttering over your next question, not having planned this conversation, not really knowing what you wanted out of it. 

“Don’t you and Yoongi?” Suri asked, beating you to it. 

“We do. Kind of. Yes, but also...” 

Your face was flaming, hot pricks of sweat beading in your scalp at the embarrassment of this, at having to ask someone about your sex life—someone that wasn’t Taehyung anyway—someone who definitely did not want to be having this conversation either. 

“The thing is,” you persevered, “he goes down on me, like a lot. Or not a lot but sometimes, well, often, he...”  

Your fists clenched and unclenched at your sides. 

“He goes down on me and then we don’t have sex and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong or why he doesn’t want to fuck me.” 

You let it out in a rush, looking somewhere over Suri’s left shoulder because you couldn’t bear to look at her directly, to see her face reacting. She was quiet for a moment or two and you stewed, boiling in your self-consciousness, steaming with shame.  

“Have you asked him?” 

“Yes, of course! He just says he doesn’t want to or ‘it’s ok’ or that I don’t have to reciprocate or that he’s fine. But I'm not fine! I’m clearly shit at sex! And blowjobs because he doesn’t want those either!” 

And it was the embarrassment, mostly, but you felt tears burn in your eyes, felt your bottom lip wobble and as much as you did not want to have this conversation, you certainly didn’t want to cry during it. 

“Does Namjoon ever...” and you couldn’t finish the question because you knew the answer and didn’t want to hear it. 

“Nah, if he’s even the slightest bit turned on, he’s doing something about it. Well, I'm doing something about it, you know what I mean.” 

You cursed softly, tried to kick at the gravel in your flipflops.  

“I just wish he would tell me what I’m doing wrong so I can fix it.” 

Your embarrassment, bright enough to have burnt away now, had left you sad, miserable in fact, that you couldn’t please your boyfriend and he was being too nice to tell you so. Sad because you couldn’t give him what you wanted to, what he gave you. Miserable that you were failing where you wanted to succeed. 

“Do you ask him directly at the time?” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean, look, I’m the last person who should be giving anyone relationship advice of any kind, ok? I really don’t know how to do anything but are you asking him why he doesn’t want to have sex right now, or have you talked about it at a completely unsexy time? Because Namjoon is barely sapient when his dick is hard; his brain is entirely in his crotch.  

“Literally the only thing I have learnt over the last year is that, as horrible as it is, you have to talk about stuff, especially when you don’t want to talk about it. So maybe just talk to him again but- oh, I don’t know! I’m not good at this. But if he’s not given you a proper answer, make him give you one. You should at least know what the problem is, if there even is one, right?” 

You thought about it. Thought about how quickly you let the subject drop, let Yoongi brush you off because you didn’t really want to have the conversation at all, didn’t want to know the answer—or rather you didn’t want to hear Yoongi say it.  

You nodded, thanked her quietly for her help and you walked the rest of the way to the shop in silence. You picked an ice-cream at random and a random one for Yoongi, too, then you walked back. Suri tried to make conversation with you and you were grateful for it, for her. You didn’t know if she liked you, found her impossible to read, and often got the impression that she’d rather be anywhere else, but she was making an effort and it meant something to you. 

* 

“Can I ask you something?” you started timidly as you settled in bed that night. 

“Yeah.” 

You were quiet for a moment and Yoongi frowned, trying to work out what had upset you. You had been quieter than usual all evening and he wondered if Suri had said something to you; you had come back from the shop with two melona ice-creams, which you hated.  

“Am I bad in bed?”  

He blanched. Didn’t really understand the question because you weren't. Not in the slightest. The sex he had with you was as close to perfect as sex could be. He sometimes felt deranged in how much he wanted you, felt dirty for it even, like it somehow besmirched your honour for him to think about you when he touched himself. Like he would contaminate you with his need to have you. It often took all he had in him not to fuck you. 

“What do you mean?” 

Your mouth was pouty and your eyebrows drawn close. You didn’t look angry for which he was grateful, but you were sad and frustrated for which he was not. 

“You go down on me all the time and then we don’t have sex after! You don’t let me reciprocate! I can’t do it better if you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong in the first place!” 

It was like static was fuzzing up his brain. He knew the words but couldn’t understand them coming out of your mouth. He had thought he was doing the right thing. Giving not taking. Or taking only sometimes, but keeping the balance firmly tipped towards you. You always offered because of course you did: you were wonderful and kind and, for reasons he could rarely fathom, you cared about him.  

“Yoongi!” 

In a tone he almost never heard, genuinely annoyed, if also pleading and anxious.  

He blinked, tried to find an answer. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Of course you do! It happened this morning! It happens at least half the time! I don’t understand why you don’t want it.” 

And his heart was suddenly hammering because he could see that he had got it wrong but he wasn’t quite sure how. Colour drained from his face because you were upset, really, genuinely upset and it was his fault and if he could have squashed himself like a bug under his own shoe, he would have.  

He tried to see what he had not seen, what he had missed, what maybe he had ignored. Could only see instead the times before, with other partners, when he’d try to initiate and be rebuffed, when he never asked for anything because he knew he wouldn’t get it anyway and, besides, it was ugly to ask, to want, to demand for something someone else didn’t want to give. He had spent so much time and effort learning his partners’ bodies, trying to make up for everything he lacked. He knew he was good at it. Knew it, was sure of it. Wasn’t he? Was it not enough? Was he still missing something? 

“I do,” he said, voice hushed as though it hurt to say. “I do want it.” 

“Then why do you always brush me off?” 

He felt stripped like old paint. Had to look at you, though the embarrassment was excruciating. 

“I didn’t think you really wanted it.” 

And it sounded stupid when he said it out loud, really stupid, but it was the truth. 

“What?!” 

You really needed to hear him say it again. That he didn’t think you wanted it, even though you had explicitly asked. Even though you had sometimes tried, feebly, to insist.  

“I...” 

But he didn’t say it again, looked as though he couldn’t. Looked as desperate as you felt.  

“Why do you think I would ask, I would offer, if I didn’t want to actually do it?” 

“Because you give. You’re... You’re nice to me.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

And you took a deep breath, tried to blink away the tears, sent them rolling down your cheeks instead.  

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” 

You saw him move, inch away just slightly, and you remembered who you were dealing with. Because he was Yoongi, your Yoongi, and he was warm and soft and sweet and funny and smart and you loved him so much that you forgot sometimes he still hated himself. Saw his denial now not of you but of his own desires. Remembered how long he had spent silently loving you without asking you to so much as hear a confession. Remembered how close you had both come to absolutely nothing at all, his disbelief overpowering his belief and his heart and his hope.  

You could see it from his side. See what he was trying to do, even if it was madness. Even if it was wrong. You could feel him retreat even now, tucking himself back inside his tortoise shell.  

“I’m so-” 

You didn’t let him finish, would not let him apologise. You kissed him, tasted the salt of your own tears between you, leant into him, let your arms wrap around him and pressed your lips to his, to his cheek, to his hairline, to his jaw. 

“Yoongi, I love you.” 

“I know,” he replied, but you weren’t sure if he really did. 

“I’m glad you think I'm such a nice person and everything, but I promise, I’m not offering out of the goodness of my heart. I’m asking because I actually want to. Like, really want to. Like, really enjoy myself and want you to enjoy yourself and want us to both enjoy ourselves together, y’know?” 

He nodded, couldn’t quite hold your gaze.  

“I’m serious. You need to know that I want to fuck you, ok?” 

And you laughed, though you were trying not to, even if it did feel a little ridiculous, having to convince your boyfriend that you wanted to have sex. 

He nodded again. 

“You promise I’m not a bad lay?” 

And you watched his face flick through shock and outrage and a kind of disbelief that become laughter.  

“You are not a bad lay, I promise.” 

“And what about blowjobs?”  

“Also good.”  

“You promise?” 

And you sat yourself in his lap, legs straddling his hips, sinking yourself low, pressing against him. 

“I promise.” 

“What if I say you have to prove it?” 

His head cocked to the side, playful, squinting at you, and you didn’t think that it was over, that he was suddenly convinced now, but with the burden of Being Terrible at Sex lifted off you, you felt not only lighter, but the deep, heavy, familiar drag of desire raise its head. 

“Prove it?” 

You shifted your hips again, deniably but definitely, and put your lips to his ear. 

“Prove that you like it when I suck your cock.” 

His hands gripped you tightly; you felt the bob in his throat when he swallowed as you pressed kisses down his neck and a stirring in his boxers that you sank even lower to press yourself against. 

“I’ll prove it if you prove that you like it when I fuck you.” 

“Deal.” 

* 

You were late up that next morning and Namjoon greeted you both from the back porch. 

“Hey, a little request: could you maybe be louder when you fuck? Suri and I are actually sleeping a little too well.” 

[allaboutnayeli]

BREAK DOWN YOUR WALLS, OPEN UP YOUR HEART / lia wälti x reader

ah, ah, oh let my love adorn you, baby don't you ever don't you let nobody tell you different, baby i'll always adore you you gotta know now you got to know, know, know

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀━ adorn, miguel

summary: you never felt like you belonged until lia came along.

contains: shy!reader, mentions of loneliness, low self-esteem, and isolation, oblivious lesbians, katie being a menace, time-line is slightly messy

author notes: wrote this for my girls who have felt like they are in the background their entire life and wish someone would notice them 🩷 it's okay, i see you because i am you.

you know those people that can light up a room just by walking into it? the ones who command attention just from their presence alone?

well, you aren't one of those people.

instead, you're the type that walks in and slowly blends into the wall. the one who awkwardly looks around, listening in on everyone's vibe. trying to see where you can squeeze in (it always ends up being nowhere, by the way).

that's just how you been since nearly forever. you remember family members and teachers commenting on how you were so quiet, they would forget you were in the room with them sometimes. was it a compliment or a foreshadowing of a trait that would turn into a flaw? who knows, you were six.

it's not that you don't want to put yourself out there. you do, but it's just so hard. it seems like everyone else has it figured out, and you're the only odd one out. everything about you has always been standoffish and anxious. a mind that's desperately trying to disguise itself as normal.

you just didn't fit in. that was obviously your place in life whether you liked it or not.

the only place you ever fitted in at was football. not amongst the likes of the locker room but out on the pitch. you knew exactly what to do with a ball between your feet like there was language between just you and the ball. that's why you made the sport your everything, putting your all into it even when others would question why you were so passionate. they wouldn't understand; they fit alongside the other puzzle pieces of society while you were an outside piece that was meant for a different puzzle. one that involves a ball, a net, and a pitch.

still the moment you stepped a foot off that pitch, your puzzle would fall apart.

that's just how it is.

that's why your expectations when you transferred to arsenal were pretty low. coming from tottenham, where all the other women were lovely but you weren't ever really apart of the circle outside of football, you expected things to go the same way at the red and white club.

and at first, it did. your first week went pretty well. got introduced to everyone, made small steps towards being apart of the team chemistry on the field, and even talked a bit in the locker room. however, overall, you stayed to yourself. the first to arrive at the locker room and the first to leave. keeping your cubby spot pretty much spotless because you didn't want to take up much space.

it's not the rest of the arsenal girls didn't try to include you, but everytime you saw a text in the groupchat about making plans or heard everyone talking about doing something outside of the practice grounds, you shyed away from it. feeling too out of place to join in. why even go if you were just going to sit there and be silent watching everyone else like some creep? more like some loser. you didn't think anyone noticed your absentness from every outing that wasn't mandated as a team bonding activity. nobody has that much interest in me anyways, so there is no point of going you thought to yourself when the loneliness really got to you.

expect someone did take interest. it just seems like you were so into your own head about your awkwardness and being outside of the group that you didn't notice the looks from one of your teammates.

"feels like i rarely see you even though we play on the same team," the sweet voice of lia rings in your ears as you sit out near the bonfire. this is your first time hanging out with the team outside of practice and matches, a mandated team bonding hangout at leah's. while everyone else was in the house enjoying the warmth of the heating, you were outside in your coat. sipping on your coffee with tons of sugar and cream in the england fall weather. why? you just needed some air was your excuse, and no, you didn't need anyone to come sit out there with you is what you said when kim asked. in reality, your mind couldn't take sitting on the couch beside everyone while they talk like they have known eachother since forever even though they basically have, and you're the only one out of the loop. your own fault for not coming out with everyone else more, you guess.

you shrug with a shy smile, "yeah.. i don't talk much, so that's probably why." it feels self insulting to say that, but it's true.

lia smiles before taking a seat next to you. she scoots over until your thighs touch. her eyes glance at you with a questioning look, is this okay? they say.

you respond with a smile back, not moving away from the contact. how could you feel uncomfortable when lia is looking at you with those eyes that feel carved out of a renaissance era painting and that smile that would even blind angels.

were you attracted to lia? maybe a little. she's pretty and from a far you have seen her personality shine so well when she's joking with everyone else in the locker room. you couldn't help yourself.

"nope, that's not it," lia takes a sip of her own coffee, "viv didn't talk a crazy amount, but she still was apart of us. you act like you don't want to be around us."

oh, okay. her words surprise you. it wasn't like you were ever rude or actually turned down an invitation to hang, you just didn't go. acting like you barely read the groupchat and didn't hear the girls talking about plans. you never thought anyone noticed you not being there anyways.

caught in your own thoughts, you stay silent for longer than you meant to. lia takes your silence for offense and immediately starts to apologize, "not that you aren't a great teammate or anything. you're amazing! just wish we could see you out of those kits more."

oh.

oh, shit. she wants to see you more outside of football. not just lia, but the whole team.. maybe? that's what implied, right?

"i want to see you guys outside of football, too. it's just.." you struggle to find the words to say. not that you didn't know why things were this way, you did, it's just.. you don't want to sound like a loser.

lia licks her lips, probably due to the cold, before saying, "i get it. i know how hard it is to fit into a new team. took me a while to get comfortable here, too, especially with all the big personalities." the brunette gives you a warm smile, one that you return. the two of you sip at your coffees at the same time. somehow, you're already synced. foreshadowing? perhaps.

she knows. lia knows how you feel in a way. these feelings you hold aren't just your own, and that's comforting.

"...yeah. i'm just a little scared, you know? it just feels weird to try to talk with everyone else. i never know what to say," you explain softly. it feels like a weight is lifted off your shoulders as you speak the words into the cool air.

lia makes this cute frown expression that makes you flush slightly; maybe it's the cold. she's really cute. why haven't you been paying more attention before?

"i was excited when i heard you were signing with us. you know, i been a fan of your play for a while now. we even played against eachother once at the international level.. i don't know if you remember that, though," lia looks slightly bashful. that makes your heart flutter because you have never seen lia shy before. just her comfortable presence amongst the others. she looks at you, fluttering her eyelashes all pretty when she notices that you're looking intently at her. she continues on, "and everyone else were excited too! still are. basically, what i'm saying is we want to get to know you. don't shy away from us. i swear we don't bite."

lia winks at you before standing up, giving you a nice pat on the shoulder.

"my coffee is nearly empty and it is way too cold to be out here. come inside when you're ready? no rush, of course. it's just i know beth probably pulled everyone into doing some games and i wouldn't want you to miss you. we all wouldn't want you to miss out" and with that she leaves, going back into leah's flat.

your heart is pounding as you take in everything that just happened. everyone on the team wants you around, lia wants you around. you didn't realize how badly you needed to hear that until now. your soul use to be fine with going throughout the world without a solid place to call home, but now maybe arsenal might be that spot to anchor down to.

lia left you feeling warmer than the bonfire a few meters away from you.

i might as well you think to yourself before getting up and going inside of the flat. your coffee is nearly gone anyways.

slowly, but surely you are pulled into the arsenal circle. it started out with lia inviting you out for brunch with leah, beth, and vic who brought along laura. arriving at the cute little shop, your heart was pounding in your chest. the sound blocking out everything else going on. why did your walk feel so awkward as you approached the table? god, you're so weird. why did you even come?

that's how you felt at first until lia smiles at you. she gestures for you to come sit next to her, and you happily do. everyone greets you as well. it feels so nice to be included.

"hey guys," you say softly. of course, you overthink those words. wondering if you should have said something more interesting. seems like no one else thinks the same as they immediately pull you into the conversation.

the rest of brunch goes really well. you don't talk a crazy amount, but you are definitely apart of the conversation. the best part was when during the middle of brunch when lia patted your thigh, making sure you were doing alright. for just a moment, you two just looked at eachother, exchanging words with just eyes alone.

is this okay?

better than okay.

apparently, time flies when you're having fun because brunch is over before you know it. saying goodbye to everyone doesn't feel like you're exiting a room that never wanted you there. you don't leave feeling empty and embarrassed. instead, you leave feeling fulfilled from a good time had.

you even get a few hugs before everyone drives away. everyone expect lia. she stays near your car, leaning against the metal. the brunette smiles at you warmly when you come closer, having just said goodbye to vic who's gone now.

"i carpooled with leah here and told her i would carpool with you on the way back. i wanted to check up on you without everyone else around. is that okay?" the care and slight nervousness in her voice makes you want to hug her. would that be weird?

you don't dwell on the thought. replying to her with, "more than okay. i'm so.. happy right now. that went better than i thought it would."

"told you. we want you around," lia chuckles, playfully giving your hand a soft pinch when you come close enough. the contact has your cheeks flushing, but you ignore that. grabbing her hand fully.

"yeah, yeah.. i know now. thanks for showing me." you pull her over to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for her. unfortunately, you have to let her hand go to allow her to get in the car, but it's all good when you see the smile lia flashes you. of course you flash her a smile back before shutting the door and going around the car.

as you reach the drivers seat, you think over what just happened. when did you get so comfortable with lia to just grab her hand? when did you two get so close she could pinch yours? and who are you to open the door for her? when did you get so bold?

lia is definitely bringing a different side out of you.

you reach lia's flat in twenty minutes that feel even shorter than that because you and lia were singing along to beyonce the entire way.

she unbuckles her seat belt but doesn't get out of the car. licking her lip before looking at you with a soft look.

"this was nice. i hope we can do this more often," lia's hands go to play with one of the pockets on her cargo pants.

thinking she's referring to the brunch, you nod with a smile, "totally. i didn't realize going out with others could feel so.. good."

lia's own smile widens. feeling happy and pretty satisfied with herself that she helped you reach this point even though it's just a small step.

one small step for you is the key to a great future where you're apart of something. a future that you deserve.

"yeah, that's great and i'm so glad you came out with us but that's not what i meant."

oh. you give her a look of confusion, your heart pounding slightly at her tone.

lia gives your a look of confusion a giggle in return. "what i meant was.. it was nice getting some alone time with you. screaming beyonce at the top of our lungs was fun! and i hope we can hang out more. just the two of us."

before you can respond, she gets out of the car. giving you a soft smile after she shuts the door.

"see you tomorrow," lia says.

still processing what she said two seconds ago, you spit out a simple, "see you!"

your mind is still hazy as you watch her walk up to her flat and enter it. only then, at the sound of her screen door shutting, do you snap out of your mind and drive off.

that day was the start of something special.

lia and you started getting closer. you started getting closer to everyone on the team, something you never thought would happen.

coffee with leah, dinner with caitlin, shopping trip with lotte. you were slipping into the puzzle that was arsenal instead of slipping through the cracks like you always do. having close friends was a change, but a nice one. when something exciting happened to you, there were actually people to tell. when you were bored out of your mind, there were people to ask to come over. when you had gotten sick with a cold, you could ask someone to come over, and there were people beside your parents, who actually cared to know if you were feeling any better. all this was attention was so new, but very much welcome.

especially attention from lia who hasn't stopped keeping you close since that bonfire hangout at leah's. after the brunch, you two have just gotten closer. way closer than you are to the others. tons of hangouts, getting eachother coffee before practice, carpooling to team hangouts, calling, and texting all the time. you even noticed her giving you some looks in the locker room sometimes. that never bothered you since.. you were taking a few looks at her, too.

lia was really becoming your person, and everyone else could see it from a mile away. the rest of the arsenal girls never said anything about it, not wanting to push you back into the shell you had just come out of.

everyone but katie mccabe.

the irish woman has been making subtle jokes about lia and you since she noticed the obvious tension between you two. you mostly ignored them, not even believing lia looked at you in that way. you may have gained alot of confidence by putting yourself out there more with lia's help, but some insecurity still hangs around for old times sakes.

you never saw any truth in those jokes until a match made all the pieces fall together in your mind.

the moment happens during a london derby. the score is currently a draw of 0 to 0. both teams are equally frustrated. the adrenaline in your system is on a high as the minutes pass by. the match is nearly over, and you refuse to allow arsenal to leave this pitch without at least one goal. you see your chance when frida passes you the ball, and you're off. sliding your way through chelsea's defense until there is just one obstacle left, zećira. there's a split second where her eyes move from the ball to you and that second is your chance to aim straight for the right side of the net.

more than half of the crowd erupts into cheers as the ball goes flying past zećira, hitting the back of the net. you can't even think about the cheers as someone jumps onto you with full force. immediately you know it is lia just from scent alone. her flowery perfume is a staple in your mind alongside a list of lil trinkets about the swiss woman. lia's face finds it's home right in your neck, her arms around your shoulders and legs around your waist. you would have a bigger reaction to the feeling of lia clinging to you like a koala, but there's no time as everyone else joins on the hug. shouting at the top of their lungs about the

the moment is soon over as you all have to get back to the game, but you carry that happiness from the goal with you even after the match ends. the minutes run out and the match ends in favor of arsenal; all thanks to you, by the way. that's what everyone keeps reminding you of as you change in the locker room. playfully you joke back (something you never thought you would do with your teammates) that it was just a lucky shot, nothing crazy. everyone pushes back against of course with lia being the loudest about her disagreement.

then of course, katie has to come in with a joke about how lia was a little too happy.

"is lia going to reap the benefits of this win when you two get to your place or what?" she says with a teasing smile on her lips.

the implication makes you turn away from everyone else and hide at your cubby, acting like your shirt was the most interesting piece of clothing you ever seen.

lia, fed up and slightly afraid katie's jokes are going too far, hits back with, "and if i was? what do you have to say about it?"

of course, her tone is light. it's a joke you want to remind yourself, but your mind and godforsaken feelings run with that sentence. it feels like there is something more underneath the playfulness. you should know, lia has pressed her way into every aspect of your life for three months now.

ever stubborn katie doesn't back down as she says, "i would say i'm not surprised. everyone knows you like each other."

lia and the rest of the locker room goes silent at that. it feels like all the blood in your body just rushed to your head as you take in what katie just said, no joking, all seriousness.

there is slightly awkward tension left in the room as everyone goes back to changing and joking around about other things not lia and you related. usually awkwardness would make you slightly anxious and overthink, but you can't overthink about the tension when you're already overthinking your relationship with lia right now.

have your feelings been that obvious? and how could you be so oblivious to lia's? in your mind there has always been this small hope that lia would return your feelings, but your insecurity pushed that hope away. lia was one of the first people to push you out of your comfort zone. one of the first to show that they care to have you around and don't care about any of your awkward tendencies. you refuse to lose that connection because of your dumb feelings. that's what you always told you to stop yourself from making any kind of move, but maybe those thoughts were incorrect.

maybe, just maybe, katie was just saying shit to push people's buttons and lia really liked you.

best time to find out is the present.

everyone soon clears out of the locker room, heading off to their ways home. of course, on this day of all days, lia and you carpooled. this night with either end great or horrible, depending on how this all goes.

leaving out of the building, you're holding both lia's and your bags. it's a habit you have fallen into ever since you two started carpooling so much. it's nice.

reaching lia's car, she unlocks the doors. opening one of the backseat doors to let you put the bags in the car before walking around to the passenger side and opening the door. that darling smile on her lips as she uses her hand to gesture you to come on.

"you act like i never done this for you before," she giggles when you make your way around the car. giving her a look before getting in the car. buckling your seatbelt while she shuts the door and goes around the car to get in on the driver's side.

"still surprises me when you do," you say when she gets in the car. she doesn't say anything back right away, but you can see the smile on her lips as she buckles her seatbelt and makes sure everything is set before pulling out of the parking spot.

"i don't know why. i like doing things for you.. i like being with you," lia says so calmly like those words don't send your heart rate through the roof. with the way your heart is now pounding, lia probably hears it from across the console.

you don't hesitate to say, "i like being with you too."

lia doesn't expect that from you, obviously as you notice her eyes slightly widen. she steals a quick glance at you before her eyes go back to looking at the road.

the brunette is slightly panicking in her head. she has had a crush on you since you started getting close and may have been attracted to you even before that. you returning her feelings wasn't the first thought in her mind when yall became basically besties. so yeah, she didn't really expect you to return her feelings or be bold like that.

when the car stops at a red light, lia looks at you.

"you know.." her eyes move from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes, "katie wasn't wrong. i like you."

she turns back to the road, continuing to drive. how can she just casually drive after throwing those words at you?

you don't stay silent like past you would. lia just confirmed she likes you. why would you miss that opportunity?

"i like you too and honestly i have for a while-" you don't get too far with your confession as lia cuts you off with a laugh.

"wait a minute, please. i might crash the car if you continue," she looks at you then back at the road. trying to focus on the fact you are confessing to her and the shitty drivers of london was a hard task, so yeah, unfortunately, she has to cut you off. for now.

you let out of a laugh of your own. nodding in understanding, your hands going to connect your phone to the car bluetooth.

beyonce blasts through the speakers seconds later.

lia parks in front of your apartment building. she turns off the car before turning to look at you. her hands reach across the console to grab yours, her thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin there.

um, has it always been hot in here?

"so..." she maintains eye contact as she smiles at you, "what were you saying again?"

how does she expect you to confess when she's looking at you all pretty like that? the words feel like they are caught in your throat. you break eye contact to look around the car nervously, your tongue peeking out of the side of your mouth to lick at your lips.

lia can't stand for that, so she lets go one of your hands so she can use that free hand to cup your cheek. gently, but firmly, she guides your face to look at her.

"don't go shy on me now. what were you saying earlier? you like me and have for a while..?"

"i think i have liked you since the day at leah's. i was feeling so down, and you just came.. lighting up everything. after that day, i thought you would leave me alone. that it was a one-time thing, but no, you kept inviting me places and talking to me. it was all so new, but felt so right. i really like you, lia," you blurt out, blinking at lia, trying to see her reaction.

lia doesn't even give you a response. words wouldn't express how happy she is about this, so she doesn't use words. she comes close and kisses you. she catches you off guard, so your eyes are open, and you don't kiss back right away, but you eventually you do. your free hand going to grip on her wrist.

out of everything that has ever happened in your life, this feels the most right. just like how football was your savior in life, and there was a language between the ball and you. it's now a language between lia's lips and yours. she's been your savior for the past few months.

unfortunately, humans need air to breathe, so lia is the first to pull away. she doesn't go too far, one of her hands still holding onto yours and the other still cupping the side of your face. you don't let go of her wrist either. you shift your face slightly so you can kiss the palm of her hand before smiling at her.

a small silence falls between you two as you guys look at eachother.

lia speaks first, "can i take you tomorrow?"

there's only one answer to her question, "of course."

author notes: not grammar checked or anything but i wanted to post smt after disappearing for a while 😚❤️ this is lowkey bad quality.. i'll come out with better soon!

© ALLABOUTNAYELI

[jifloulette]

heeeelllo! sorry to bother you if you're busy, but would you like to do something with Reo? LITERALLY ANYTHING IS GOOD, but please fluff. thanks for your attention and have a nice day 💗

Taro Milktea?! || m. reo x gn!reader

genre ➳ - - - fluff fluff fluff !! (little angst <3)

synopsis ➳ - - - You've liked the Reo Mikage for such a long time now, but you never really thought of confessing. Why? It's only because you were scared of all the endless scenarios that would happen if you did, so you just continued to be his best friend. A new milk tea shop just opened around the two of yours school so you invited him and Nagi to try it out! You thought it was the perfect way to end the day after all, but little did you know that this would've been the day that you just happened to accidentally confess your feelings.

word count ➳ - - - 1.3k

warnings ➳ - - - a few swear words here and there, maybe a bit ooc (?), nagi mentioned but only has a platonic relationship with Reo and y/n.

author's note ➳ - - - thank you so much for requestingg!!! literally motivated me to make one more fic before the weekend ends, i hope you enjoyed what i cooked up !!!!!!! i actually loved this so i hope you love it a lot as well  🥺💗

"Hey Reo, Nagi! I heard there's a new milk tea shop that just opened around the corner of our school! Wanna go there after you guys practice?" you shouted towards the other side of the classroom that startled the purple-haired a bit. "Yeah sure, y/n! All of our drinks are on us, yeah?" Reo answered with a smile on his face. God, you were so in love with the man in front of you, yet you still couldn't manage to tell him your true feelings, one day i will, you thought.

Following the two boys to the soccer field, you placed your bag on the bleachers and waited for them to start practicing. You didn't mind watching them, no, you didn't mind watching Reo at all. The way he played was just so mesmerizing, the way his feet dribble around the ball, and the way he shoots the ball with so much force just made you fall for him even more. Time passed by fairly quickly, you didn't how. Maybe you were just so focused on Reo that you didn't notice, or maybe the world just seemed to spin faster whenever your eyes were on him.

After Nagi and Reo practiced, the purple-haired boy decided to take a quick shower which left you and Nagi to chat for a bit before he was the one to take a shower. "Hey, you're bound to confess to Reo soon." Nagi stated, you were taken aback to be honest, you didn't know that Nagi knew that you liked Reo. "Huh? What do you mean? Reo's just a friend, Nagi..", you answered, acting dumbfounded. "I see the way you look at him whenever he plays, no, the way you look at him every time he's with you or with us. It's obvious, y/n. You should just tell him." Nagi real talked you, he was right after all. You were stupid for not telling one of your best friends the truth, but you were scared! You didn't want things to get awkward between the two of you! You knew you didn't have a chance, girls and boys come flocking to him asking him to be their dates, whether it be to a dance or Valentine's day. If Nagi thought that it was obvious that you liked Reo, shouldn't he know that by now too? He is the smartest guy in the class, then again, he wasn't the most emotionally intelligent. "Listen, I..i just don't want things to be different between us, I'm okay just being Reo's best friend, m'kay? Just let me be..", you told Nagi, with a fake smile. "'Kay, whatever you say, y/n" Nagi said, his tone sounding concerned.

"Ooookay, Nagi, it's your turn! Hurry up 'kay, I really want that milktea y/n was talking about." Reo shouted, you waved to him and asked him to sit beside you as you played with his wet hair. "H-hey! You don't need to play with my hair that rough..!" Reo remarked, you just chuckled upon hearing it. "Hey, you at least need to dry your hair before we go to milk tea shop!" you replied, laughing when you saw the face he made.

Finally, Nagi was done and the three of you went to the shop, interlocking arms with the purple-haired boy beside you. Reo's face had a light pink tint on it, you noticed it but you brushed it off thinking that he just probably felt hot because of the sun but the truth was, Reo genuinely liked you too. Like you, he was also scared of things being awkward if he were to confess. Whenever so many people came flocking to him with handwritten letters, store-bought or handmade chocolates, his eyes were still on you, wondering if you liked him the same way he liked you. He's already forgotten count of how many times he's screamed into his pillow, kicking his feet, and acting like a teenage girl daydreaming about her crush. He's tried to write letters, but it's no use, he just ends up ripping the piece of paper and throwing it around his room.

"Woah.. this place looks so pretty! I'm so glad you guys agreed to come with me!", you stated, Reo swore he could see sparkles in your eyes, he swore he saw hearts around his head when he saw you! "I'll order first, it's on you right, Reo?" Nagi asked to which the purple-haired nodded. "Uhh, I'll just order a medium sized lemon tea, no pearls please, thank you.", Nagi told the elderly woman working there, "I'll get a medium sized chocolate mik tea please, with extra pearls!" Reo exclaimed, a smile plastered on his face. "Hey, y/n! What're you gonna order?" Reo asked you and to be honest, you really didn't know what you were gonna order! The two boys in front of you ordered so quickly as if they were regulars! There were so many good flavors and toppings to choose from, you also had the tendency to be indecisive so how were you gonna pick in the span of a minute? "Hello? Earth to y/n..?" Reo added, "Uh..uhm! I'll just get the taro milktea. With uh, extra pearls as well and medium sized w-will be fine..!" you manage to speak out, "Why'd you get that? You tend to get sweeter flavors, right?" Reo questioned you, "Well uh..I kind of get pressured because the two of you ordered so quickly and I kind just said the first thing that came to my head which was Taro because it kind of reminded me of you..!" you said, really, really fast.

You spoke so fast that Reo couldn't under stand any of it. There was only one thing Reo noticed though, you ordering Taro milktea because it reminded you of him?! "Why'd you think it reminded you of me?" Reo asked, the tip of his ears turning red, "I guess since it was purple and your hair's purple which I really really like playing with and- oh my god, did i just fucking say that out loud?" you responded, pretty embarrassed, your cheeks turning into the same shade of light pink when you interlocked hands with Reo. "Y-you like playing with my hair..?" Reo asked, "Y-yes.. I'm sorry if that weirded you out, I just like you so much and your hair is so soft and smells so nice that I- oh my god, did I just do it again?!?!" you remarked, shouting towards the end. "Wait?! You like me, y/n? Do you really? Please tell me I'm not dreaming!!" Reo exclaimed, you were confused as hell. Did he like you too? If he did so, then how have you just noticed it now? Oh my god, if you really just had noticed it back then, maybe you would've been dating him by now!

Throughout the whole conversation slash confession, you realized that Reo's actions towards you and other people was different. The way he looked at you with so much love and care, the way he helped you with homework in your most hated subject, the way he would always talk to you with so much care and affection, all of that wasn't a coincidence, right? "I guess there's no point in hiding, huh? Well yeah, I do like you Reo, a lot." you said, the purple-haired boy responded by hugging you tightly, catching you off guard. "Oh my god, I can't believe this day finally happened!! I like you so fucking much too, y/n! You don't how long I've been crushing on ya!" the boy hugging you announced. He was so cute like that, he was so cute being so affectionate and lovey-dovey towards you.

"One medium sized lemon tea with no pearls, one medium sized chocolate milk tea with extra pearls, and one medium sized taro milk tea with extra pearls!" the elderly woman said. "Hey lovebirds, could the two of you get a room and get your drinks already, hurts m'eyes seeing the two of ya." Nagi said, it was only then did you pulled away from the hug, still holding Reo's hand on the way to get the two of yours drinks.

Nagi had already parted ways with the two of you when Reo asked you something, "Hey y/n.. since you're like my lover now uhmm.. do you wanna stay over for the night at my place?" you immediately squealed in happiness and agreed. It was safe to say that the milk tea shop became a frequent spot that you would have dates with Reo, still ordering the Taro Milktea.

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.

[ak319]

Oooo hear me out, it's up to you, something inspired by "me and the devil" by soap&skin for platonic arthur and reader?

(AN: Lmfao this is smth else, hope this caught the essence of the song!)

Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, fluff

──୨Pre-camp୧──

You’d always been content with the fact that Arthur and your friends hadn’t crossed paths yet. After all, there’s something universally embarrassing about siblings mingling with your friends, especially a brother like him. But today, fate seemed to be laughing at you.

You waited on the porch of Mrs Anne's house with Isla, Faye, and Mavis, caught up in a lively discussion that had everyone too engaged to notice time passing, mostly about what happened in your classes today. Usually, your friends would have left by now, but something had kept the whole group lingering in a close-knit circle.

“Alright, guys, we should really go,” Faye finally said, glancing around. Isla nodded, then smirked at you.

“Oh, right,” she teased. “Forgot you’re waiting for him. Where is he? Late again?”

You clutched your bag, trying to brush it off casually. “He’ll be here soon. You guys can head out if you want.”

Please do, please do, please do-

Before anyone could move, Mavis stretched lazily and patted your arm. “By the way, we’ve never actually seen him. I mean, I haven’t.”

“Trust me, he’s… well, you don’t want to,” Isla added, chuckling with an odd mix of awe and apprehension. “I have, and he’s terrifying, honestly.”

“Is he?" Faye raised an eyebrow at Isla's earlier comment. “I mean, your dad’s not like that. Quite normal, actually, like he’s nice.”

You rolled your eyes. "Isla, he's just a bit...tall that's it. Which to be honest I hate. I mean like how dare he be taller than me! Eugh. Anyway, you guys, he's nice too, much nicer than Dad I would say-"

"But I never saw him smile." God, Isla. She's literally your younger annoying sister who can't shut up, at this point.

"He does smile!"

You could feel Mavis and Faye’s curiosity prickling at Arthur’s character, especially since they had no clue about his line of work. Isla, though, knew enough, which left her more spooked than skeptical. You nudged her with a playful yet pointed elbow, a silent but clear Don’t spill the beans, or I’ll make you spill your teeth. Thankfully, she caught on quickly.

“Yeah, it’s more of a… ‘you had to be there’ situation,” Isla tried to wave it off, though her tone just made things more awkward. Before anyone could respond, a voice drifted over the porch, a voice that could freeze or haunt your dreams.

Arthur had arrived.

“(Y/n)!” Arthur’s voice cut through the chatter, and all four of you turned to see him, perched on his horse, dressed head-to-toe in black. But what really set your teeth on edge was the bullet belt strapped across his chest along with some guns, a blatant display of everything you’d been trying to hide. You glanced back at your friends, who stared in wide-eyed shock as if Arthur had just ridden straight out of a legend, or a nightmare. Isla, though, wore a triumphant smirk, her dramatic warnings about your “scary” brother proven right.

You shot them all a quick, apologetic goodbye before rushing over, and Arthur extended a gloved hand down to help you onto the horse. “Hurry your ass up,” he muttered. His gaze was sharp and impatient, and you climbed up with a sigh, half-irritated and half-resigned.

“Maybe you should try being patient, too,” you shot back, settling in behind him. The horse sprang forward as you waved at your friends over your shoulder, watching their stunned faces disappear into the distance as you and Arthur rode away.

Arthur’s gaze was sharp as he maneuvered the horse down the path, his voice edged with something darker. “Your friends looked like they’d seen death itself when I rode up. Got anything to explain?”

You tried for a casual laugh, but it came out shaky. “Maybe because you showed up looking like you were ready for a showdown, Arthur. You could have been less armed...y'know.?”

He glanced back at you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Less armed?

“Yeah, you didn’t have to look like you were coming to take me hostage,” you teased, though there was a tinge of nerves in your voice. “You nearly gave poor Mavis a heart attack.”

“Maybe she needs it,” he muttered with a hint of amusement, his hand gripping the reins tighter. “Ain’t my problem if your friends are scared of a bit of leather and metal. And excuse me , for not tryin' to make you wait and rushing here after the job."

You rolled your eyes, but decided to switch gears. “Anyway! Artieee....

Artie = I want something.

"What’s really important is that I’m starving.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t cook nothin’ today,” he said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone.

Panic struck, and you scrambled for an excuse. “Well, I did cook even with a terrible headache, but Dad was starving, and he, uh… had some friends over, so they polished off everything.” You added a dramatic sigh for good measure, hoping it’d sell the story.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but too tired to argue. “Him and his damned pals. You couldn’t save a single bite, huh?”

“Believe me, if I could’ve, I would’ve,” you lied, trying to keep a straight face. Truth is, you did cook and there was still food left for dinner but you were craving something else. Your Dad would definitely side with your lie anyway so why not take advantage of the opportunity.

"So…how about we grab some dinner? Just a little something for your favourite sister?”

Arthur groaned, but you could tell he was caving, being starved himself, “Fine."

You grinned, hugging his back as the horse picked up speed, your stomach already dreaming of food. Knew you’d come through, brother.

⋆⋆⋆

──୨Post-camp୧──

"So what's up with you?" Micah’s voice broke through the quiet, his tone drawn out in that infuriatingly lazy way, like he didn’t care about anything in the world. You kept your focus on the book in your hands, not bothering to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

"I mean, I know it’s only my second visit to the camp and all, but at least the other women talk. You, though..." His voice rose just a little, like he was trying to provoke you.

You didn’t flinch. The page turned, your eyes still scanning the words.

Micah, noticing he wasn’t getting any attention, stepped closer, his boots scraping against the dirt. "Hey! What’s up with all the attitude from you girls around here? I swear, the prettier they are, the more attitude they’ve got."

That was it. You set the book down, slowly, deliberately, and looked up at him with a level stare, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing your face.

"You should go, if you want to keep breathing," you said flatly, voice laced with a coldness that might’ve warned him to stop before things escalated.

He smirked letting out a scoff, clearly not taking you seriously. "Oh really? Why, doll? What’s so special about you?"

You didn’t answer. Instead, you let your gaze shift to the side, barely looking at him as you spoke, "My brother won’t be happy."

Micah blinked, caught off guard. "Brother? Who--"

Before he could finish, a heavy, familiar hand fell on his shoulder, spinning him around with ease. "Me." Arthur’s voice was low, smooth, and cold, a tone that instantly made the air around them feel heavier.

Micah’s face drained of color as he took in the sight of Arthur, standing tall and unwavering, his stare unblinking and intense. The recognition hit him hard, and the cocky grin that had been on his face moments ago faltered, turning into an awkward grimace.

"Oh...right, I see the resemblance now," he stammered, his confidence crumbling beneath Arthur’s unblinking gaze. "Didn’t know... didn't know it was you."

Arthur’s eyes darkened as he took a slow step toward Micah, his presence undeniable and terrifying. “You didn’t know, huh?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Let me make something clear, Micah. If you ever think it’s alright to speak to my sister like that again, you won’t have the chance to be this sorry.”

Micah’s smile faltered as he looked from Arthur’s hard face to yours, clearly realizing just how deep his mistake ran. He hesitated, then muttered, “I didn’t mean any harm, just jokin’ around cowboy, y’know?”

Arthur didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. His grip tightened slightly, and Micah’s hands immediately went up in surrender. “Yeah, you should’ve known better,” Arthur growled, his voice dropping even lower. “I don’t appreciate anyone talking down to my sister or any woman in the camp for that matter. Got it?”

Micah’s breath hitched, and his eyes darted between Arthur and you, his legs wobbling a bit under the pressure of the enforcer’s glare. He took a step back, quickly distancing himself, his earlier bravado long gone. “I, I’ll just go... No harm meant, alright?”

Arthur didn’t speak, only watched him with unwavering intensity, his posture stiff and unyielding, until Micah turned on his heel and hastily retreated, all but running.

Once Micah disappeared into the distance, Arthur exhaled slowly, his gaze now shifting back to you with a slight softening in his demeanor. “You good?”

"Hm. Thanks for that by the way." You answered nonchalantly, already reaching for your book again, satisfied with how things had gone. But before you could dive back into it, Arthur snatched it away from you with a swift motion.

"Wha--"

“Go fuckin’ read in your damn tent,” he snapped.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his mood. “Hey, don’t take your anger out on me too. I didn’t do anything.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, still holding the book just out of your reach. “You’re sitting here, reading, like nothing happened.”

"So I just stop existing because... what? Men like him exist?!" You shot back, annoyance flashing in your gaze.

He sighed, clearly over it. "Yeah, yeah, you win the debate, but for now, go. He still has some work left here in the camp. You stay inside. Now stop yapping and go before I-"

You cut him off with a dramatic roll of your eyes, but you didn’t want to test his patience. Grumbling, you stood up and scurried toward your tent, throwing a glare in his direction as you went. Arthur didn’t bother replying, just watching you with an unreadable expression as you ducked inside. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining how he was still standing there, no doubt watching over the camp with that ever-present watchfulness of his.

But deep down, there was a strange comfort in knowing Arthur was there, looking out for you. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the sense of security his presence brought, even if it came with its moments of irritation.

You were luckier than most women, the ones who had no one to protect them, to guard their well-being when this society felt too harsh. You had never had to face that, not completely.

Your brother could’ve just left you to fend for yourself when both of your parents died. He could’ve given up, and let the weight of responsibility crush him. He could’ve taken the easy route, let you fend for yourself, but he didn’t. He chose to provide, to protect. And that, in itself, was something you could never take for granted.

You smiled softly to yourself as you opened your book again, getting comfy. It wasn’t perfect, your life, and it didn’t come without its complications, but it was yours, and you knew you weren’t alone in it. Arthur’s attempts, and his constant presence, always reminded you that no matter what happened, he would always try. That thought made everything a little easier to bear.

Speaking of....

You were tailing behind Arthur as he checked the items on the list. Just another day buying out supplies when your eyes caught the movement outside the general store’s window. A man was yanking a woman by the arm, his grip forceful, and he struck her hard before pulling her toward a nearby house.

Your heart hammered. “Arthur…”

“Hold on.” He didn’t look up, tossing another can into the basket you held.

“Arthur!” Your voice trembled as you grabbed his arm. “That woman… He’s hitting her. Aren’t you going to do something?”

He finally glanced at you, an irritated look flickering across his face until he saw the worry in your eyes. He followed your gaze out the window, his expression darkening as he took in the scene.

“That bastard’s beating her…” you hissed. “I’ll go to the sheriff if you won’t.” You started to take a step, but Arthur’s hand shot out, gripping your arm like iron.

“Hey, hey! You ain’t runnin’ off to the station,” he growled, his tone as unyielding as his grip. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” You tried to pull away, anger mixing with shock. “How can you say that when she needs help?!”

The shopkeeper, who had been eavesdropping, chimed in with a lazy shrug. “That’s Carter for you. Mean drunk, that one. Nothing new around here.”

"Arthur," you insisted, voice edged with urgency, "we can’t just stand here and ignore this! You’ve got to do something!”

He looked back at you, his eyes narrowing with frustration mixed with something softer, a concern he rarely showed outright. “And what, exactly, would you have me do? Burst in there? People like him, they’ve got the whole damn town used to their mess. It ain’t as simple as you think.”

You clenched your fists, your heart pounding. “So we just let it happen!?”

Arthur scoffed, glancing down at the basket you held with a resigned shake of his head. "I’m not sayin’ we do nothing. I’m sayin’ we’re not the ones here to play heroes every time some bastard acts up." He looked away, jaw tight. But then suddenly, your dejected face stung something within him. It always does.

"Fine, but let's get this shopping done first."

You bounced impatiently on your heels as Arthur went through the rest of the list, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally loaded up the last of the supplies. He gestured for you to sit in the wagon while he headed off to “handle things.” Minutes later, you watched as the blonde woman stumbled out of the house, her face streaked with tears. You jumped off the wagon and hurried over, helping her onto the seat beside you.

“Don’t worry, your husband will definitely rot in the jai-”

The words barely left your mouth when the sharp crack of gunshots rang out from the house. A moment later, Arthur sprinted out, leaping onto the wagon and snapping the reins with urgency, the horses lurching into a gallop.

“What--what was that?” you stammered, glancing at him in shock. Even the woman had stopped sobbing, her eyes wide as she clung to the edge of the wagon.

Arthur shot you a level look, his tone matter-of-fact. “I did what you asked.”

“I said jail, not… not blowing his brains out!”

“If you think they take in men jus' for that, you still have a lot to learn, and aren't you happy...? That son of a bitch had it comin',” he replied calmly, not sparing you a glance as he kept his gaze on the road ahead.

You fell silent, a part of you taken aback but another part feeling a grudging agreement with his logic. The jail thing was indeed a dumb idea. You do feel happy. "You know what? You’re absolutely right, probably the best thing you ever did,” you murmured, giving a subtle, reassuring smile to the woman sitting beside you. She was still in shock, her hands trembling as she took it all in. You deliberately missed Arthur giving you a dirty look on your comment.

“Um, don’t worry,” you said softly. “You’re safe now. He deserved it.”

The woman’s gaze flickered, her fear giving way to hesitant relief as she managed a weak nod. “Damn right he did,” she added, her voice firm. "I kinda...I always wanted to do that."

You giggled, glancing back at her with a grin. “Today's your lucky day then. What’s your name? Mine’s (Y/N) Morgan and this is my brother, Arthur.”

She took a shuddering breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “K-Karen.”

“Do you have anywhere to go, Miss Karen?” Arthur interjected, his tone gruff but not unkind.

“N-not really,” she mumbled, looking down, her hands twisting in her lap.

Arthur shot you a look that clearly said, You started this. Now what the hell are we supposed to do?

You cleared your throat, searching for the right words. “Um, the thing is, Karen… we, uh, well, we live in a camp where people are… let’s just say, not exactly law-abidin-”

“We’re outlaws,” Arthur cut in, his tone blunt as always.

“O-outlaws?” Karen’s eyes widened, her grip tightening on her skirt.

“Yeah, unfortunately…” you mumbled, casting a sideways glare at Arthur. “And not 'we', I’m not! I’m…just you know....there and normal.”

Karen blinked, her initial shock giving way to an expression of deep thought. Then, to your surprise, a hint of excitement crept into her face, as though she’d stumbled upon something she’d been waiting for her whole life.

“You know… I may not look it, but I’ve got skills,” she said with a newfound confidence, sitting up straighter. “Real skills that could be useful. My old man never liked it, but I’ve learned a thing or two about… pickin’ locks, sneakin’ around, that sort of thing.” She looked between the two of you, her smile growing. “Maybe I could… you know, join you?”

Arthur’s eyebrow arched, clearly taken aback by her enthusiasm. He turned to you, looking somewhere between amused and exasperated. You stifled a grin, giving him a shrug. “Looks like she’s got some outlaw spirit after all, better than whatever life you were living, am I right?” you said, reaching out to pat Karen on the back who nodded wiping her tears.

Arthur rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “This camp’s turning into a damn circus," earning him a smack from you on the arm.

You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as you watched Arthur stand by, his silhouette dark against the fading light of the camp. You’d done something good today, something right. You helped someone, and he had backed you, without hesitation.

As you made your way back to the campfire, the weight of the day's events still hung heavy on you. You could still hear the echoes of the man’s voice, the rage in his eyes. But it didn’t matter now. The woman was safe, and you’d made a difference. More than that, Arthur had made sure of it.

You glanced back over at him, standing tall, looking unfazed by the confrontation. He had that look, stone-faced, like nothing ever rattled him. Yet you knew the truth. Arthur did what needed to be done, for you, for anyone who mattered to him. He’d always had a way of making sure things were taken care of, no matter the cost.

"You did good today," you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of the unspoken things that lingered between you.

Arthur gave a half-grunt, not really one for praise. His lips curled up in the slightest of smiles, but there was no boastful pride in it. That wasn’t Arthur’s way. "Just doin’ what’s right."

You huffed a soft laugh. "I know. You always do more than what's right. You do what needs to be done." He always does tenfold what you ask of him.

He didn’t argue, didn’t try to deny it. Instead, his gaze flickered to you for a brief moment before he looked away. "You’re the one who had the guts to step in. I just made sure it ended the way it should."

You shook your head, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Don’t try to downplay it. You know damn well that if it had been anyone else, they would have just ignored it."

He snorted, his eyes scanning the horizon, ever vigilant, as if nothing could touch him. But you knew better. You knew the weight Arthur carried. You’d seen it, felt it. He wasn’t the same as the others. He was a brother, a friend, a bodyguard, and a killer all in one. Your own personal killer that too free of charge. You chuckled inwardly at the thought. This is something you never imagined even thinking of him in childhood. What a turn life has taken for both of you.

As you sat beside him, watching the fire crackle, the camp settled into a quiet rhythm. You felt proud, not just of yourself, but of Arthur too. He may not have cared for the praise, but you knew the truth, Arthur was the kind of man who would go to hell and back for the people he cared about. Especially you. And for you, that meant everything.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 29: Reboot

Almost done! This one got, dark, but hey, that's why it's called spookvember!

Word count: 789

Content warning: implications of body horror, reader dicretion is advised

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Your head is pounding as you come to. You remember, nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

You sit up, clutching your head and your eyes adjust to the darkness. You're in a supply closet, you have no idea how you got here. 

Another shot of pain and you groan. Why you would be in here of all places, well you aren't exactly sure if that wasn't obvious. You were on your way out the door to head home-

Wait that's right. You'd been heading home for the night. What had stopped you from going home?

It's a struggle to stand, but you manage it. You stumble, but eventually get steady footing and shuffle to the door. 

It's locked. Weird. 

It takes a bit of brute force, but you manage to get it open. 

The light outside is bright, and you can hear a cheery tune playing from somewhere. The Daycare, you're in the Daycare.

Your head is still killing you as you make your way through the space, coming across Sun as he sets up arts and crafts for the following day. He turns to you as you approach, rays expanding a touch in surprise.

"Friend! You, you opened the door," He's nervous as he laughs, muttering his next words, "I thought for sure that I'd locked it..."

Your eyes narrow, "What was that, Sunny?"

"N-nothing! Here, why don't we sit down and let's just, talk this through and-"

You put up a hand as he approaches, "Sun. Why was I in the closet?"

"Well, um, I didn't want you to um," He shakes his head, "Starlight I really think we should sit down-"

You throw your hands up, "Why are you being so insistent about sitting down-" You trail off, realizing that your hand, it doesn't, it doesn't look quite right. Neither of them do. 

You stand still, just staring down at your hands. 

They're, they're... they don't look like your hands. They're not flesh. Not bone. They look like they're made of metal. But that's silly. Right?

You shift your gaze up to Sun. He's frozen. You see his pupils flick to meet your own. 

He speaks slowly, cautious, it puts you even more on edge, "I want you to sit down, because I don't want you to hurt yourself again, love."

You bolt, just barely dodging as he lunges to stop you. 

He calls after you as you run out of the Daycare, to the nearest bathroom. A mirror. You need a mirror, now.

You burst into the bathroom, staggering towards the sink. As your hands land heavy and awkward on the sink you meet a gaze that isn't your own. 

A staff bot stares back at you. Its hand raises as your does to touch its face. Your face feels wrong. It doesn't match what you know your face is supposed to feel like. 

There's a knock on the door. 

"Sunshine please, please come out. Let me, let me explain! Just please, you need to stay calm," Begging. He's begging you. 

But you can't listen. You're filled with flashes of memory. Good ones, some, but mostly bad. Many, many bad. 

You remember trying to go home. Then realizing you forgot something in the Daycare. Coming back, running into Moon. There's, something off about him. You're scared, running, you're running. 

You trip, fall. He catches you. He, hurts you. You have to clutch your head to keep steady as things get glitchy, the sounds of your own screams are deafening. 

You start to hyperventilate. Can you hyperventilate? It sure seems like it. You can't even use breathing to calm yourself down. 

The knocking on the door gets louder, Sun's voice sounding urgent but you can't even decipher your thoughts much less what he's saying. 

You feel like you're on fire. The pain in your head is excruciating. 

Suddenly your arm twitches violently, and you fall to your knees, body jerking. You realize one of your hands had gotten tangled in wires between your neck and head, and you'd yanked some out of place in your panic.

Your body tumbles over, out of your control. Was it ever in your control in the first place?

Sun must've made it through the door somehow, he's taking up your vision now, rays spinning. You think he's holding on to you, it's hard to tell what's going on beyond the pain you feel. 

A message flashes across your vision. 

'Reboot required. Process beginning in 10 seconds.'

As everything goes black, you realize now what Sun meant when he said again.

'Reboot in progress. System may take several hours to restart.'

'Warning: Some memory files appear to be corrupted. System will restart from latest save.'

...

'Reboot complete. System starting...'

Your head is pounding.

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WOAH, what a fun little twist! but oh, so much angst though, so, so much angst. Sadge. Anywho, here's the prompt list, and the Spookvember schedule. Thanks for reading!

[jazeswhbhaven]

Hi!!

i absolutely love your writing and was wondering if i could request single parent MC with the kings (+anyone you'd like) please?

Hi anon! Thank you for waiting and I hope you like this now that we have all the kings now to add to the mix :3

I'm going to start with Asmo first because yahhhhhhh this is his territory

Asmodeus: He can tell a milf/dilf from miles away and he just knew MC had a kid right off the bat. He's pretty much worried that MC's here in hell when their kid is back on earth and he's wondering if there's anyway that can be arranged where they can return to see their kid more often. But of course once all of the wholesome has worn off he's pretty much humping their backside wanting to pretend to give them another kid....it's only pretend and he just can't wait to take the role of stepdaddy....

Satan: A kid? Oh, he wasn't aware of that when he first met MC. He asks a lot of questions about them, and even has a crazy idea to bring the kid to Hell with MC so they aren't alone. Everyone else of course tells Satan that's a horrible idea, but he's convinced the kid would be fine. Plus, he considers himself a great influence and can teach them how to ride a bike, or beat up someone for annoying them. That sort of thing.

Mammon: MC's kid is Mammon's kid too. Doesn't matter what MC says it's final in his head. He's sending back toys, clothes, and setting up a future bank account for MC's kid to have a stable future. He's even found the best babysitter available in Hell and sent them down to Earth in disguise to watch them. Now the talk of when MC would have more kids is brought up. Mammon is fine that MC has had a kid(s) before they had their own with him, and this is just practice of their lives together as parents.

Beelzebub: Did MC tell him about their kid before? Maybe. If so he forgot about it. He does think it's cute that MC is a single parent running around Hell essentially babysitting others who he considers are "children" too. Bael would even Beel himself is childish and that's probably why MC has so much patience for him.

Leviathan: What kid? What do you mean that you have to pay attention to someone else more important? Impossible. And if MC does have a kid then why are they in Hell instead of being a responsible parent and watching them? Leviathan is pretty much lecturing MC's ears off even though he isn't a parent himself. He's even getting jealous of how much he's talking about a kid that isn't even his. In fact, he wants to stop talking about it before he starts thinking about things and possibly adopting MC's kid(s) so they have a proper upbringing.

Lucifer: Oddly, he knew about MC being a single parent because of their mannerisms and bodily changes if applicable. They seem more patient, tired, dad/mom bod possibly? Or in very simple ways, he just knows because he can tell. Having raised his seraphim brothers from tiny angel babes, he considers himself a parent too. He's even happy to give MC some tips on how to deal with their child aging while they're away in Hell. Because when you think about it, by the time they return their kid(s) could be adults or halfway there.

Belphegor: In his words "He ain't go no time for kids" and he very much means that. Though he doesn't mind at all that MC is a single parent. He takes it as a sign that MC is just going to act like a parent to everyone around them including him. So that means...he needs help doing everything from changing himself to making his meals, bathing, you name it. MC ofc doesn't mind doing these things as it reminds them of home, but it's kind of awkward given the circumstances. Also it seems Belphie is enjoying this too much to where even Beleth is asking if MC can "baby" him too.

now I was going to do some nobles, but my mind is drawing a blank rn ;.; if I can think of more i'll come back and add on to this!!!

[sortasirius]

"Confessions" and the Beginning

Hello fellow clowns, genuinely fucking unbelievable episode amiright?

FIRST OF ALL, welcome back Bobby's hot priest, missed u bitch.

I really did miss just like regular calls last season, it's nice just to have a random silly one to start an episode.

GIRL I MISS CHRIS AS MUCH AS EDDIE DOES RELEASE HIM FROM HELENA DIAZ'S CLUTCHES!!!!

This man is going through the most insane confessions of his life. First Bobby saying he's a murderer and now Eddie saying that his son caught him with his dead mother like give this man a break lmao.

"I don't deserve forgiveness, I gotta go."

And this is the beginning of Eddie's thesis: what he deserves. More importantly, what he thinks he deserves.

Buck is literally like the most awkward man alive. He has zero game I love him sm.

Bitch. ABBY???? FUCKING ABBY?????? SHE IS BUCK'S SHANNON, CONSTANTLY HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.

"I wonder how many men she turned gay" Maddie is Abby's number 1 hater (besides Eddie lmao)

"Unless there's another boy" JOSH PLEASE!!!!!

The Glee reference Tim Minear you will pay for your crimes lmao

It's interesting that he didn't even seem to consider taking the next step with Tommy until Josh brought it up. Also really interesting how he ends up framing their conversation later, like it's more of an "honoring Tommy" thing than a "I really want to move in with you" thing. Now this could just be awkward scripting or awkward (no game) Buck, but I think it's worth mentioning.

I just love Chim and Maddie so much they are my true north always.

Eddie's tank top? Yeah make that an everyday look for him good lord.

"I'm straight" YEAH SURE JAN WHATEVER YOU FUCKING SAY.

He's punishing himself by not choosing the juice because he doesn't think he deserves it, because he doesn't think he's allowed to take it... He is the obstacle in his own joy. What is that joy? What is he standing in his own way of?

"Because the LAFD doesn't allow beards."

"So it's a disguise?"

"Something like that."

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!!!! HELLO?????

"What are you afraid of seeing when you look in the mirror?"

"A failure. Someone that doesn't deserve forgiveness. Or joy."

I'm literally beating my fists on the ground. It's textbook. Fucking textbook. He's hiding from himself, hiding himself from himself, hiding from his joy.

Nothing like 911 to give you the most insane gutwrenching side plot of all time when I tell you I was SOBBING over those two brothers. (To be fair it's been an extremely hard week).

"I'm the himbo" HE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!!!!

Look let me just get this out of the way: I really loved bucktommy. I liked their dynamic and I liked what he was able to teach Buck about himself, but I think Tommy is ultimately right: he can see the writing on the wall, just in the same way he said "my attention?" in 7x04. He was Buck's first queer relationship, but he will not be his last. And I think Tommy has an idea who his last will be, even if he kept that part to himself.

I do think it was kind of an insane speedrun at the end there, I'm not sure why he couldn't just ask Buck to pump the brakes instead of fully breaking up with him.

It's also just a complete manifestation of Buck's greatest fear: abandonment. Abandoned by his parents, abandoned (through no fault of her own) by Maddie, abandoned by Abby, by Taylor, and now by Tommy. It sucks for him, and I hate it for him and for Tommy, who also doesn't seem to think he can have good things, and would rather beat Buck to the punch than actually take the risk and be vulnerable.

I think that this was a good learning experience for them both, and I think they'll both be better for it in the long run.

"I'll see you around, Buck" killed my ass.

MADNEY BABY MADNEY BABY MADNEY BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And lastly, Eddie shaving off the mustache, his barrier from joy, and dancing around his house in his underwear. Finding the joy in being himself, finding the joy in his life again. And Buck knocking on the door, not asking any questions, and them sitting together on the couch, shoulder to shoulder each of their respective "barriers" gone.

They have some things to figure out, but we are so close that I can taste it, I can feel it.

I haven't felt this way since the last season of SPN, and while that didn't turn out the way I wanted (due to network and Robert Singer's meddling), I am confident that that is not where we're heading here. Tim Minear is back. The show is on the Shonda network. Buck is out and Eddie is on his way there. Gay Eddie. Buddie endgame. It's happening, and nothing will get me out of this clown car.

[perfctvelvet]

hiii, can i request something with Madison Beer?

The reputation the proceeds you had Madison a little more worried than she liked to let on.

Reputation; Madison Beer/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. College AU, kind of bimbo!reader, themes of slut-shaming (very brief), Madison and reader are roommates, teasing, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving).

Y/n.

A name that was known around campus and in the mouths of many people (and in more ways than one for some people).

You weren't sure when you amassed such a reputation, it seemed like it happened overnight, but you were well aware of what people thought of you. It wasn't necessarily a secret that some considered you a slut and even a bimbo in some cases. There were nasty rumors that you only made it to your senior year of college because you slept your way to better grades. What they say should bother you, but it just doesn't hurt as much as others would think. You go out, you party, and you have an occasional hook-up; nothing more, nothing less. Maybe someone just didn't like you and decided from that day on that you were the girl who will hook-up with anyone.

Madison prides herself on being non-judgemental, which is why she accepted your offer to be roommates in the college apartments for your senior year. You knew of her just as much as she knew of you, only in passing and through what others have said about each of you. She was a sweet girl, got good grades, dated the start football player, and is on the dance team. She was such a cliche and it surprised you that she didn't mind rooming with the "campus whore."

After a few emails going back and forth to get to know each other and one coffee date, it was time to move-in before the semester started. She grew to learn that you were quieter than people proclaimed, but nothing about your outfit screamed nice, quiet girl. Who decides to wear a short, pink dress to move-in into an apartment? At times she swore she could see your ass cheeks and that you weren't wearing any panties. You bopped around the apartment, so happy for a taste of responsibility and privacy that an apartment grants.

"Imagine the parties we could have here. We don't have to go to those nasty frat houses to have fun anymore!"

You were more concerned with the idea of an apartment party than unpacking your stuff. Madison felt a little awkward responding to you as you two weren't that close yet. However, she did like the idea of partying at the apartment compared to the frat houses. It would be much safer and calmer to have a few people over instead of those drug and alcohol fueled ragers. The fact that you two were on the same page about the type of parties you enjoyed more was surprising to her. In fact there was more common ground between the two of you than either expected.

"But, I'd rather stay in and hang out with my roomie anyway."

Madison doesn't know if you're flirting with her when you wink at her or if you're just like that. You've done something like that a few times before and it makes her brain short-circuit. Where people saw a bimbo, she saw a confident girl. Even after people talked shit about you, you still showed up to the places they would be like you didn't have a care in the world.

"So, what should we do for our first night together?"

Two white claws and one rom-com later, and Madison was feeling the buzz. She wasn't drunk, but she was half-way to tipsy and she felt so good. She was enjoying your company more than she expected. You two were clad in pajamas and face masks. After your last round of roommates were either rude to you or disgusting, Madison was a breath of fresh air. And she was really pretty to look at. Now that time was slowing down and you got a good look at her, she might be the most gorgeous girl on campus. It stirred something inside, that needed to have what you wanted. The last thing you want to do is scare her off though.

"You sure you don't want to go out tonight?" You ask, just to test the waters a little bit. "There's supposed to be a senior bonfire around 11 o'clock."

"I'm in no state to go out. Besides, I like being here with you and getting to know you."

She leans in a little to you and it feels like she's insinuating something. You could be seeing things a little hazy thanks to the drinks you had, but you of all people know what the look in Madison's eyes mean.

"I like getting to know you too. I like that you don't judge me."

"I'm not that kind of person.”

The softness of her voice, and the ghosting of her fingers against your thighs, gives the game away. She wants you.

"Can I ask you a question Madi," emphasis on the nickname

"Sure"

"Do you believe the rumors about me?'

"no"

"Would you change your mind if I told you I'm so fucking horny right now."

Madison is at a loss for words, but this is what she wanted. She smiles and leans into you before capturing your lips. Soon the movie on TV becomes forgotten and you two are making out. You expected that you would be the one to raise the temperature, but Madison was groping your tits before you could even touch her. She was popular, but you always viewed her as more reserved. Right now she’s groping you the same way a drunk frat boy would expect you to welcome her advances much more. 

“Can you spread your legs for me?”

Madison was on a little bit of a power trip when you began to respond to her so quickly. Your nightgown rides up as your legs part for her and you expose your pussy. She would never judge, but it was just amazing to her that she was able to crack you open without much effort. She rubbed small circles into your clit just to feel how wet you were and you were dripping. You were wet enough for her to slide not one, not two, but three fingers into your pussy.

“Fuck Madi!” You cried and bit into your bottom lip. You looked up at her while she stared at your pussy opening up to take her fingers.

You pull on the top of your gown to expose your tits. You grope them just like Madison did earlier but you also play with your hard nipples. You give them a squeeze when Madison’s fingers curl inside of you and hit your sweet spot. Her thumb presses into your sensitive clit and rubs into it while fingering you. With her other hand she grabs a hold of your face and makes you face her. She captures your lips again and your kiss is fueled with absolute lust. She was just having so much fun seeing how she could overwhelm you with desire. You let her use you despite not even knowing her personally for more than 24 hours. You wonder if this would be an everyday thing for you two; Madison pleasing you and wanting to see how true the rumors about you were. It excites you thinking about being used everyday in the privacy of your own apartment, you won’t need to go to another campus party again.

Madison felt like it would be impossible to pull her fingers out of your cunt. It was warm, wet, and kept pulling her fingers in deeper. If you feel good she can imagine just how good you taste as well. She reluctantly pulls out of you to be met with you whimpering at the emptiness. However you really felt the magic when she got between your legs and worked her tongue into your pussy. Her tongue was trained on your clit and every so often she would wrap her lips around the sensitive nub. You wanted to scream out so loud, but you weren’t sure how thick these apartment walls were. Instead you bit into your bottom lip and hummed while she ate your pussy. You were surprised by how into it she was but the taste of your arousal flowing onto her thumb was egging her on. She now understands why some of these boys on campus go crazy for you, but tasting you only made her want you for herself. Her boyfriend be damned, he would have to understand that Madison can’t keep her mouth off of her roommates pretty little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum Madi!”

Your voice sounds so sweet to her as you whimper and pant from the pleasure. You held onto the back of her head and buried her face deeper into your cunt. This was turning her on so much that Madison can’t help but shove her hands into her pants and finger her wet pussy. Your juices still remained on her fingers and mixed in her pussy with her own juices. Your legs were shaking from her skilled tongue dancing over your clit until you were cumming against her mouth. Madison didn’t care how loud your whimpers began to grow or that you were starting to become sensitive, she kept licking you out until she was satisfied and had enough. She cleaned up the juices running down your ass, savoring each drop.

When she pulls away she looks up at you and smirks. You lean down and your lips meet once again for the night. The taste of yourself on her lips is the hottest thing you’ve experienced in months, and you’ve tasted yourself plenty of times. You can’t help but wonder if Madison accepted your roommate request just to be able to have this from time to time.

“You should be used to this by now, but look how you’re shaking for me.”

Madison draws a line up your thigh with her finger. Her touch made you shiver and you swear you’ve never been like this for someone in your life. 

[bokutosbabe]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

( bllk boys when your secret relationship is leaked by paparazzi)

a/n — wrote this on a whim after listening to peace by taylor swift

content — some nsfw but not explicit, fem! reader, cursing , all characters are 18 or 18+, slight ooc maybe?, some characters are repeated

synopsis — what happens when your relationship is leaked?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' everyone thought you'd broken up '

listen, you knew dating a good soccer player in high school was a big deal, but you didn't realize how big of a deal it really was when he went pro.

this was the same boy ( now man) that you'd been dating since you were 14, so nothing really changed your views on him. if you could love him through his awkward phase, and he could love you through yours, there was no way you'd break up.

again, you didn't realize that your relationship was such a big deal. it wasn't that the two of you were a secret, it was more of a 'private not secret' situation.

so when the two of you woke up in your shared bed because of just how many notifications the both of you were getting, you knew something was up.

and low and behold, something was wrong. when you opened any social media the first thing you saw was a strangely amazing photo of you and your long-term boyfriend kissing. really, if it wasn't a paparazzi photo, it would be your lock screen.

"aren't we just the cutest?" he asked you, phone thrown back onto his bedside table as if he didn't have a care in the world. (and he really didn't, not in this case)

truly, the only thing that may make him angry in this whole situation is the fact that he got woken up far earlier than his usual routine by all the commotion.

but of course, as he was dozing back off, you were reading the comments, as any loyal significant other would.

soccerluvr45: omg is that is gf from high school? i thought they broke up

okay, yeah. he had a rather public instagram account in high school that his rabid fans had found that had pictures of the two of you, but you'd never broken up?

reading through the many comments, it was like everyone had collectively decided the two of you'd broken up.

"mhm...just ignore it. the pr lady will deal with it." he mumbled as he grabbed your phone from your hands, laying it beside his before wrapping his arms around you.

"go to bed, 's too early to deal with all this."

his fans were silly, if they could see you with this bed-head man right now, they'd see there was no way the two of you would ever break up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, yo hiori, NIJIRO NANASE, hyoma chigiri

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' pr nightmare '

anyone who knew your boyfriend knew he was...a little extreme.

and unfortunately for you, this also applied when your relationship became public because of a slight slip of focus from the two of you. it wasn't that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret, you'd already been together a year now, but you also weren't trying to out yourselves.

yet, one singular minute when the two of you slipped away to the bathroom together at a soccer banquet...well lets just say a paparazzi was scarily ready to snap someone, anyone's, photo.

so here you were, sitting in a terrifyingly big office with your boyfriend and almost his entire management team.

"do you know what this could do to your reputation?" his manager asked. "it's just two adults doing adult things, they should've been in that bathroom! that would've gotten them—"

"okay, sir..."the pr woman cut him off, ever too enthusiastic to be talking about your private lives.

"you just need to ignore all of this until it goes away, alright? no press interviews after games anymore," she sighed as if this was basic comprehension. (your boyfriend wasn't the smartest but he also didn't need to be treated like an idiot.) "and no posting on any social medias for the time being. do you understand?"

"yeah, yeah. no talking to the grown men after games. and..."he grimaced at the thought of his next condition. " c'mon is posting on my socials that bad? i don't post about us anyways."

"at. all." and the room felt as icy as the pr woman's stare.

"yeah, no, okay i got it. no social media."

after another thirty minutes of this, with them saying basically the same stuff to you (even though you had no real social media presence anyways), you guys finally left.

"no fucking posting? what if i have to talk about a game coming up?" "i'm sure she knows how to do her job, love." you soothed your boyfriend as you got in the car the company arranged to have you two taken up with.

"yeah, well whatever. give me your hand," and who were you to say no to your boyfriend?

he took your hand and placed it on his neck, a place where you could see a few bites and hickeys if you really looked hard enough.

before you could protest he took a picture, posting it on his VERY public account with the caption...

' i love my woman ;) '

before turning off his phone completely.

"let's see them try to get ahold of me now."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RYUSEI SHIDO, tabito karasu, EITA OTOYA, oliver aiku

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' what picture ? '

how do two chronically offline people realize their relationship is now under scrutiny by the entire world?

the simple answer is...they don't!

you've never been interested in social media the way other girls your age had been. really, you'd rather just watch a video essay on every little topic that interests you than sit and watch six second videos then scroll all day.

to say the least, fast and forever changing social media just wasn't your thing.

and your boyfriend? he hardly even used his phone. unless it was for business or you, the thing was practically shoved away somewhere he couldn't care less about.

he would rather be reading or spending time with you out on a date...which is exactly the predicament the paparazzi put you in earlier this week.

the two of you were photographed having a little picnic and reading date at a small park that was pretty far out of town, assuming no one there knew, or even cared, enough to take a picture, but alas, someone did.

you and he had spent the rest of your week in pure, relaxed bliss. he had a game on saturday, so besides him going to practice and working out, the two of you stayed inside almost all week to prepare for the rather hectic weekend.

to say the game was a nail biter would be the understatement of the century. after two additional times, it was your boyfriend who scored the winning goal.

of course, you cheered the loudest, not noticing plenty of fans eyes on you unlike how many used to just chalk you up as an ecstatic fan.

as the post game interview came for him, you decided to stay closer to the door just incase it ran short. sometimes it was a one and done for him and others the questions went on for at least fifteen minutes, it just depended on his mood.

of course, the first question was about his game winning goal, but the second one threw him and you for a loop.

" what do you have to say about the photos of you and your reported girlfriend that have come out this past week? "

"...huh? what photos?"

eventually, the two of you did see the pictures, and all you could do was laugh because...how had you two not found out about this?

and you also made the picture your phone lock screen, but he didn't have to know that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RIN ITOSHI, reo mikage, SAE ITOSHI, chigiri hyoma

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

i wrote this in about an hour, and i think it shows but i had to get it out of my brain :))

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[ficandkaboodle]

Okay but after making my whole summary of Gonst character breakdowns, it’s got me wondering more than before: Would Copia have turned out any better if Sister had kept him and raised him herself?? (Warning: This post is long by way of me meandering)

I’m just talking rubber duck debugging-style here, I’m not expecting to or even necessarily hoping to come to any kind of fixed conclusion. But Cardi’s current tendencies are absolutely a product of how he grew up: He craves attention, he depends heavily on more decidedly childish activities and comforts, he is socially awkward as balls.

So obviously things would be different if he’d been brought up by Sister. But how different? And would that have been any better for Copia’s sense of self-worth or how he interacts with the world?

Personally, I think no. If anything, in a really sad and arguably disturbing way, how things turned out might’ve been the lesser of two evils. Still a fucked up evil, but the somewhat more survivable one.

In spite of everything she’s said and done, Sister Imperator did love Copia. She just expressed it in a way that wasn’t exactly conducive to his anxieties or just overall respect for him as an adult with needs, sensitivities, and the complexities that come with having the life he’d had. She loved him, but she loved him in a way that aligned with her mannerisms.

We don’t know Sister’s story. We likely never will, at least not in full. But it’s safe to assume that if Sister wasn’t born into the Church, she was definitely brought to it at a defining age and was either bred to or was deemed competent enough to lead it as Imperator. As a result, the Church and its goals became her mission. She might not have started it, but it was her first baby. The irony being that by dedicating herself as staunchly and one-track-minded as she did, she neglected to celebrate it as humanely as she could beyond perhaps just the lust-indulgence.

I will be the first to admit I know virtually nothing about Satanism. But…I dunno, most of the Emeriti (save Primo) seem to be on a similar page on how to interact with their faith: Secondo celebrates indulgence, Terzo embraces the importance of the self and being your own ruler while also being kind to others, and Copia would end rituals reminding people to do both. Sister stands out in that she’s more focused on all work, very little play. As a result, most of what we see of her comes off as very bureaucratic. Business-minded. She’s always thinking of how to keep the Church from fading into obscurity.

As a result of how many of her decisions seem to always have a thread tying back to the Church's well-being, I'd dare say this means more personal decisions tend to be a bit more . . . I wouldn't say "impulsive", but they certainly aren't running on all cylinders if you get what I'm saying.

At any rate, I wouldn't necessarily say the business-mindedness disrupts any maternal instinct in her per se. It could be. But honestly, I don’t think Sister is necessarily cut out for motherhood by nature. And that’s okay! Not every person is meant to be a parent, and AFAB women especially bear the brunt of criticism when they don’t display motherly affection or instinct. Even if she wanted to be more present, I don’t think her mindset would have allowed it to be as easy. And y’all, motherhood is hard enough on its own and under normal circumstances.

Bureaucracy suits Sister because she wants to be there.

What I find interesting is that Sister carried Copia and his twin to term when she didn't have to. So some part of her probably did want to have children. Or maybe she went into it recognizing the importance of having heirs: Legacy is a recurring theme in Ghost's characterization, even if some characters wind up misusing or misunderstanding it.

Ultimately, though, she gave them up and kept her distance except for in the one way she understood how to interact with people: Bureaucratically. And Copia responded to it well (probably because, I dunno, he didn't even know they were blood-related).

Regardless, I think that in a way, the fact this was met positively assured Sister that this was a proper way to go in a sense.

In a way, her giving Cardi the antipapacy is her trying to be a good mother and give him a gift. Yeah, it's a gift coming 50-something years late but the intention was there, I guess. However, it comes at the cost of having his brothers offed to assure no radicalism. Copia doesn’t seem to mind (or at least isn’t written to) but the fact still stands: That’s fucked up, Sister, you can’t go around killing your child’s half-brothers to get him the job.

So now this leads me back to the question I posited earlier: How would things have been different if Sister had decided to keep Copia? Well . . .

I think, had Sister raised Copia herself, Copia would've turned out . . . worse.

He would have likely been more “confident”, but it would’ve been horrifically twisted in and of itself. He’d grow up knowing he was part of the Imperator line (or simply known as Sister Imperator's son at the very least) and that would probably make him feel entitled. He’s essentially a little satanic prince, nobody can tell him no. Nobody who wants to live, anyway.

But he’d also be incredibly lonely. Like, more so than he already is. He may not have friends in the canon but he does have admirers who are drawn to him for his kindness and his willingness to be a bit of a goof. He'd probably be much more depressed than Canon Copia is implied to have familiarity with, and probably sucks even harder at dealing with it. He doesn't have anyone to confide in, and I think he'd never want anyone to know his vulnerabilities because he's the goddamn Imperator's son.

I think in the Copia Imperator timeline, he’d have “friends” but it’s mostly just for clout and/or fear. They're Yes Men he has orgies with essentially and carts around on the Ministry Black Card. He doesn’t have much appeal because he’s a manchild but in an extremely bratty way.

The charm we get from Canon Copia's childish tendencies are completely gone because Canon Copia's antics are the result of coping mechanisms mixed with a mother that coddles him because she doesn't trust him as an adult or see him as much beyond the baby she gave up. In the Copia Imperator timeline, he'd be enabled and probably not given very much reason to be a better person or mature.

Also, he’d probably be more down to kill. I know it's easy to assume this because bratty manchild with power frequently equals a lack of respect for life, but I also think him watching Mommy have people killed off for convenience would have put into his head that he can do the same. Only when Sister does it, it's for the "good" of the Church. If Copia does it, it's probably because he feels that person wronged him. Even if he still had some goofy traits, he’d be reluctant to display them and take anyone witnessing them as slights.

And given Sister’s penchant for putting work above all else, yeah, I think she’d hire nannies. Which wouldn’t likely be conducive to their relationship, so he becomes desperate for her attention and tries to be more like her. He still has Cardi’s mindset that if he does this thing right, he’ll be loved but I think in a weird way, he’d be more cutthroat about it. Probably because he witnessed his mother do the same up close (or as close as he can get from an emotionally and sometimes physically distant mother).

Which means there's probably a huge possibility that, in this timeline, he's more likely to be directly responsible for Papas 1-3s' deaths.

But I dunno, that's just my onion.

We don't know why Copia is as decent as he is, though. We can't say for sure if it's a nature vs nurture thing because as much as we can try and piece things together, we ultimately know nothing of his life growing up. We don't know if he'd been raised by or had a very kind adult in his life, or if he tried being mean and just frankly didn't like it. We don't know if anything from being raised as an orphan impacted his empathy or sympathy.

So obviously, this is all just what I puzzled together from traits of Sister's and how they might translate into motherhood as done by her, and what traits could therefore emerge in her child. How close to the mark I hit is subjective because that's fanon/speculation, baby.

(Though I think there's quite a few of you out there who would've probably loved to have seen Copia acting in this manner.)

Would Sister "raising" Copia have made for a more interesting storyline? Possibly. But as a person, Copia's probably better off this way. Which is depressing considering it's still left him spending most of his life not knowing who his parents were; likely developing a conviction that he's only as good as what he can succeed at; developing thanatophobia in connection to his need to be successful; and also having to recognize that his mother had his half-brothers killed off both to assure his ascendancy and to turn a profit.

Suffice it to say, no one is well. But at least he turned out cute, right?

TL;DR: Sister's focus on the Church and probable incompatibility with a particularly affectionate motherhood affects her relationship in the canon timeline. If she'd kept Copia, he might've turned out worse as a person -- and probably have left him to nannies anyway. This was probably the best possible outcome that could be made based on her poor communication and decision-making when it comes to things outside of her faith.

But that's just my opinion, I could very well be wrong lol

[babykittenteach]

Alright, I signed up for things? Things. The OFMD Reverse Bang and the Jeeves & Wooster email subscription. I have things to engage with. I put my name in for things. I even joined discord servers. I'm very brave. Insert stedeiamadequate.gif here.

[spotaus]

Late Night quick thing (New Age Sillies)

Bad news: That joke post about including Reset + Orchid is definitely not canon. (I legit got sad thinking about Reset being in a universe where Orchid isn't- because their stories are so so intertwined- but Nightmare 100% would NOT risk the whole twins exploding Error's soul thing.)

Good news: This means I COULD include Kane (Reset's older brother who usually dies in timelines where Reset is born) and use it to develope his character a bit more! Also! Perhaps a Blue × Dream kiddo is finally in the stars for me to design?

[statementlou]

How does one become your friend?

honestly I'm so mentally compromised by fatigue today that my answer- I don't know??- sent me into an actual spiral of "do I not know how to be a friend to myself is it a commentary on my psychological health and state of being" sooooo might just have to leave all that aside and go with, uh, try messaging or chatting some way? I'm generally afraid of bothering people, what if they think I'm a creep, but I usually like it when people talk to me and then boom! I, at least, consider us friends- same as most people on here I'd guess. But watch out! I am annoying and unless discouraged will then consider us pals forever if we have two friendly interactions, sorry.

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.

Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!

Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!

If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.