#My finger is hovering over the block button seriously

[thekosheraisle]

Maybe a woman could be an antisemite on tumblr. Who knows. I am extremely bothered that this is continuing and I’m not going to continue this pointless debate. Read the room.

[felibrary]

cellphone love story — osamu dazai

*+ﾟsynopsis: recently, someone's been spam calling you to the point that you’re fed and pick up the phone, only to be greeted with someone by the name dazai who has been continuously trying to reach his dead friend. the calls however don't end here, rather, your (call) history with dazai starts to extend - slowly but surely forming a bond over time; the phone.

pairing: dazai x reader (gn) |wordcount: 2.5k (this was my personal hell)  | content & warnings: fluff, mentions of odasaku and very very very small mention of chuuya, more than friends less than lovers at the end (can also be interpreted as lovers, but that's just what i had in mind yall), brief mentions of drinking, light angst if you squint, not proofread its 5 am yall…. ; oneshot

a/n: sorry that i havent posted anything in the past few days (eight days to be exact i think..) i hope this will somehow make it up :,)

you can't keep count anymore.

this is the third - no, maybe fourth time today the unknown number has called you. at some point they have to realize that they’ve gotten the wrong number, right? 

it all started about one and a half weeks ago when you changed your phone number and received a new one. ever since that day someone has been continuously trying to call you. unfamiliar digits lit up on your screen as you were out with your friend, you ignored them, after all who were you to accept a call from an unknown number?

but, over the course of the evening the calls didn't stop, eerie and annoying ringtone constantly piercing through your ears until the calls took a halt at midnight. relief washing over you.

to your mishap the calls didn't stop there. sometimes they’d wake you up from a peaceful slumber, groggily pinching and rubbing your eyes before swiping the call away. other times your phone would ring at a work meeting where you had to awkwardly excuse yourself and turn off your phone.

admittedly, you're at fault for not blocking the number. all of your friends suggested that you should, reasoning it with the fact that the caller probably has some dirty schemes and motives and that you should just try and not get in touch with weird people like them. 

which brings you to your current predicament, sitting on the couch with your favorite show playing in the background as you text a friend, until a certain but familiar series of digits show up on your phone screen. do they never know when to stop?

your fingers hover over the decline button and then over to the accept button, debating and contemplating if you should decline the call but you don’t. the pads of your fingers press down on the accept button and you wait. 

you’re greeted with silence, what the hell? your patience runs thin, streaming like arid sand grains through an hourglass until they meet the bottom and gather there together with the others. it's been like thirty seconds into the call now, at this point they should've probably said something, at least a quiet hello. an exasperated sigh leaves your mouth and you begin “seriously? you’ve been calling me for the past week now and suddenly i pick up your calls you don’t say shit?” you complain.

“goodbye odasaku.” a sigh leaves the strangers mouth, a man you notice. “i suppose this is my sign to stop grieving and mourning over you.” his voice slightly quivers and the male chuckles sorrowfully. you can’t distinguish if it’s melancholy or relief that lace the bitter words. 

you’re left with confusion, so many unanswered questions lie at the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare to utter a word. “apologies.” he speaks up once again, this time with a steadier voice. “you’re probably confused, my name is osamu dazai.” he politely introduces himself. even though you’re unable to see him and can’t see him nor his expression, your intuition tells you that he’s slightly grinning, that a ghost of a smile graces his lips, although a rather sad one. 

“this phone number belonged to an old friend of mine.” dazai respires. a shaky “odasaku?” you whisper and let out a breath you yourself didn’t know you held in. “yeah, sakunosuke oda.” he hummed smilingly. “he’s gone.” dead, dazai wants to add but he refrains. 

“his voicemail always played when i dialed his number and called.” he whispered. “it was pleasant to hear his voice, knowing that there are still fragments of odasaku out there. he understood me like no other, i miss him.” dazai meekly confessed in a hushed tone. “but those days are over, i suppose it’s for the better.” the male on the other line sighed.

an umpteen amount of words prickle on your tongue, they itch to be released and said, you wanted to say something - anything. but before you’re able to properly gather your words and form a sentence, dazai cuts you off.

“please excuse my intrusions in the past week. have a good rest.” a shrilling sound echoing through your living room symbolizes the end of the call and you’re left dumbfounded.

-

strident noises awake you from your sleep. you toss and turn in your sheets as you mindlessly try to find your phone, rolling over to lay on your side as you find it and tightly clutching it, gripping your phone as you’re greeted with a bright screen and a row of digits. dazais number, you realize.

no, you didn't save his number nor did you memorize in which order the digits were aligned but his phone number's unfamiliar digits have become quite familiar now. you check the time: 0.52 a.m. what was dazai doing at such time and why was he calling you out of all people? especially after he hung up on you a month ago.

“hello?” you groggily yawn. “ah.” a female voice on the other line yelps, she sounds relieved. “are you odasaku by any chance? could you pick up mr. dazai please?” the woman asks in a demure manner. “what’s the situation?” you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake. “well, mr. dazai is intoxicated - he’s drunk and is currently slumped over the counter.” she whispers into the phone. 

“if that doesn’t bother you of course, i can also call someone else!” she hurriedly says. you're slipping out of your sheets to get out of your bed and move towards your hallway, loosely throwing over a thin jacket and checking its pocket if your car keys are in there. “it’s fine, can you tell me the location?” you tiredly ask. “yes of course. it’s bar lupin.” she replies. you check your phone and step outside your door moving towards your car “got it, i’ll be there in 20 minutes or so.” with that you end the call, get inside your car and put your hands on the steering wheel.

-

carefully you take a step inside the narrow bar, taking off your hood and immediately spotting dazai whose head was currently laying on the surface of the front bar. he was poking at his glass of whiskey, the ball of ice being almost fully melted. “dazai.” you call out. he turns around, hazel eyes meeting yours. 

only then can you admire dazai for the first time. his dark brown is tousled and unkempt but it continues to gleam in the orange light. his arms are wrapped in bandages and there's a long beige, almost khaki, coat draped over his body. you can’t help but think that he’s kind of pretty.

“what are you doing here?” dazai asks in a fatigued tone. you show him your car keys and wag them in the air “here to pick you up.” you reply nonchalantly. “why?” his question is barely above a whisper. 

why are you helping him? he doesn’t understand - he wishes to understand. the first impression you’ve received from dazai was when he was calling you non stop and now your second impression is him slumped over bar lupins front bar. dazai can’t tell if you’re just naive or really trying to be helpful out of politeness or rather out of kindness. 

a certain kindness he’s only ever received from odasaku. helping someone like him out of kindness with no hidden intentions, offering a helping hand, smiling with utmost fondness. 

“as if im leaving a somewhat nice drunkard alone. i’m not inhumane.” even though your answers are full of nonchalance, dazai can make out a certain sincerity that lies in your words. 

his eyes can only follow as you tilt your head towards the door. “let's get you back home.” you gently smile. 

-

dazai wakes up to the sound of  birds chirping and sizzling oil. he’s warm, a soft blanket covering his body only then dazai realizes that this isn’t his bed, that he’s not lying in his futon. he looks around before his gaze lands on the bedside table which had a glass of water atop it, marked with a little sticky note that said “drink this, you’ll feel much better and come find me in the kitchen :)” 

he can’t recall everything that happened yesterday, it all went past him like a blur the only thing he remembered was that you came to pick him up. dazai grabbed the glass and gulped it down in one go, some of its content seeping down his chin and wiping it away with his sleeve before sliding out of the bed with the glass in his hand to return it to you.

finding your kitchen wasn’t hard, it was located right next to the dining room where a variety of dishes were placed on the dining table. dazai enters the kitchen, without you noticing and sees you whisking up two eggs with a pair of chopsticks before speaking up “here.” dazai coughs and places the glass on the counter near the sink to express his gratitude. 

“oh, it’s no problem.” you shoot him a small smile. your hand reaches over to the salt and pepper  to season the eggs with before carefully putting the egg mixture into the hot greased pan. admittedly dazai feels a bit out of place - useless (when was he ever not) so he offers to wash your dishes which you happily agreed to. 

besides the sound of sizzling fat and water running down the faucet, it's quiet in your kitchen. “how’d she know whom to call?”  you’re the first to speak up, eyes still concentrated on frying the eggs as you hum a small melody.

“the bartendress?” dazai asks in response. 

“yeah.” 

“well, odasaku’s number, which is your number now, is one of my emergency contacts, i suppose she just called you first.” dazai shrugs his shoulders, his hands still focused on rubbing away the dirty spots on your plates. 

“i see.” 

“if the old man, my favourite bartender by the way." dazai winks. "if he would’ve been here he would’ve called slug.” dazai lets out a small laugh, probably the most sincere laugh he let out in the past few weeks.

“slug” you ask, soft voice laced with confusion.

“an old friend of mine.” dazai smiles sadly. “odasaku and him are both my emergency contacts.” he chuckles. 

dazai doesn’t talk about the topic much further and neither do you, assuming it’s a sensitive topic for him. “i’m done, how about you?” you look over to dazai who’s currently washing his hands off with lavender soap. “mhm, me too.” he hums in agreement at which you can smile at.

dazais eyes trail after you as you leave the kitchen and move to the dining room, setting down all the plates and pouring two glasses of water. “sit down and eat up.” your eyes sway from his eyes over to the chairs. only then does dazai notice that his beige coat is neatly folded on one of your dining chairs. it makes his heart jump lightly. 

he sits down and takes a sip out of his glass, waiting until you start to eat first before he gets to. he smiles contently as you happily chew on your food. “does it taste good?” he cringes at himself when he realizes just how awkward that question is, he feels like a teenager again that was always wary of what people thought of him. 

“it tastes amazing! wanna try?” you slide the plate over to dazai, offering him to take a piece. “sure.” he agrees before taking a small bite. you weren’t lying when you said that it tasted amazing. “you're right, it tastes so good.” dazai says ecstatically. “told you so! my cooking is not to be underestimated.” you laugh and dazai can’t help but laugh too which makes him cough uncontrollably, putting a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t spit out anything on your table cloth but continuing to laugh.

“oh god dazai, are you okay?” you rush over to his aid and put your hand over his back to slide over it, hoping that it’ll somehow soothe his coughing. dazai manages to muffle out a “i’m fine, really.” between his coughs and laughs which you can only sigh at but can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face and plasters itself on your lips.

-

calls with dazai have become more frequent now, although he sometimes still remains a mystery to you, it feels like he’s grown quite comfortable around you. 

he told you more about himself (vice versa), talks about his work at the armed detective agency and sends you recipes the both of you could recreate. not only calls with him became more frequent but also visits. 

at least four out of seven times a week dazai rushes to your place after work (you should probably call it your shared home now due to dazai leaving his stuff at your place like scattered objects on the floor).

for example, today: dazai walks into your kitchen like he owns the place. he sets down his belongings onto your couch before stepping towards the kitchen where he already finds you chopping the vegetables for the curry. 

he notices that you’re on the verge of tearing up as you continuously chop the onions into small bits and grabs a tissue before sneaking up behind you and scaring you. “boo.” his mouth forms a little “o” and you slightly jump before setting the knife down and putting your hand over your heart. “you scared me!” you complain even though dazai can see the playful glint in your eyes.

“sorry, sorry.” he laughs before wiping away the small droplets of tears that managed to escape your eyes. 

his calloused hands brush over your soft skin, it’s intimate - romantic even. you softly sigh against the tissue, the object that separates the two of you. the action makes your face lightly heat up and you’re sure that dazai noticed it too from the way he’s smirking. 

“aw, was i able to fluster you?” he coos at you smilingly, which in response you can only huff at, eyeing him with a look that says “you already know the answer.” before turning around to continue where you left off.

in the meantime dazai pulls out another cutting board and starts to chop the carrots. it’s quiet, it’s always quiet when the two of you cook together, but neither you nor dazai mind. the smell of aromatics that nip and continue to linger in the air and the sound of your jazz playlist which sometimes gets outplayed by the sounds of cutting or frying food, are more than enough. it’s just like the first time the two of you shared this space together, a certain nostalgia suddenly washing over him.

“thank you” he whispers, barely loud enough to not get overplayed by the music playing in the background. 

“for what?” you ask, longing for an answer.

for the times you’ve picked me up at bar lupin, for the times you’ve cooked me warm meals, for the times when you took care of me. 

“for everything.”

this is dedicated to my odasaku person @azullumi (don't die pls i need u and ur fics HHDDISISISIS). you've always told me that you liked odasaku a lot and that some day you also want to open up an orphanage which i find really endearing. what i mean by "you're my odasaku person" is not "wow we're literally so odasaku and dazai coded" but no rather it's because you also play such a major role in my life (not just cause of the age gap between oda and dazai and u and me..). you're always there when i need you, you're always there when i needed you and i hope that you'll always be there when i need you. but the same thing goes vice versa; goes for me. azul you're someone whom i've randomly met and if i never made that one comment or sent that one ask or if you never sent that one dm i would've never written this. you're someone who reassures me and soothes my worries with simple words, when i'm feeling down you're the person i turn to because you're the only person who really understands and somehow relates and thus i'm always able to trust and follow your judgement and advice. i never feel judged or belittled by you or treated as someone whose only an immature kid, no you treat me as a normal person, like a friend. which makes me feel seen - acknowledged even. to be loved is to be seen. i could go hours when it comes about talking to you and what impact you have on my life, but i suppose that's for another end note dsjsdsuusus. you're so dear to me. i love you a lot azul <3

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[seungvocado]

Break Ground [Part 3]

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Content/Trigger warning: Step brother!Seungmin, Step sister!Reader, Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slight angst, Kind of Cheating (?), Possessive Seungmin, Jealous Seungmin. [Let me know if I miss out any!]

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Sypnosis: Y/N who is secretly in love with her Seungmin - even before they were step-siblings, navigates the complexities of their relationship. Unspoken feelings escalates when she dates another boy to distract herself from Seungmin.

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Master list - Break Ground (mini series)

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — 18+ work! MDNI! Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog.

After the gruelling weeks of finals, Y/N and her friends were ready to let loose. The collective sigh of relief at the end of their last exam quickly turned into excited chatter as they planned a night out. They decided on dinner first, followed by a visit to a local bar where they could finally unwind after weeks of stress and sleepless nights.

The dinner was lively, filled with laughter and shared stories of their exam experiences. But it was at the bar where things truly began to spiral. They ordered drinks, played games, and cheered each other on as the night progressed. Y/N found herself drinking more than she usually would, the alcohol working quickly to loosen her inhibitions. Her boyfriend was by her side, trying to convince her to slow down, even helping her drink when she lost a game.

At one point, Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, her vision blurring as she felt his hand gently run through her hair. It was comforting, and for a moment, she allowed herself to relax, letting the noise of the bar fade into the background.

But then, one of her friends suggested a game of truth or dare. The group, already buzzed and in high spirits, eagerly agreed. When it was Y/N’s turn, she chose dare, laughing as she waited for the challenge. The dare she received, however, was far from funny.

“I dare you to call one of your family members and ask them how many times you should fuck your boyfriend tonight,” her friend said, giggling mischievously. The others joined in, egging her on despite the obvious discomfort on her boyfriend’s face.

“That’s a bad idea,” her boyfriend whispered to her, trying to take her phone away. “Let’s skip this one.”

But Y/N, already a few drinks in, was feeling bold and reckless. Before he could stop her, she had already dialled a number, her finger hovering over the call button for a moment before she pressed it.

The phone rang, and Y/N waited, half expecting it to go to voicemail. But then, someone picked up on the other end.

“Y/N? Where are you? Why aren’t you home yet? It’s late,” came the familiar voice, stern and concerned.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her drunken mind struggling to process the situation. But the dare was still echoing in her ears, and before she could think better of it, she blurted out the question. “How many times… should I fuck my boyfriend tonight?”

There was a tense silence on the other end of the line. Her friends around her laughed, though some were starting to realize the gravity of what had just happened. Her boyfriend looked horrified, his face paling as he recognized the voice on the other end.

“Y/N,” the voice over the phone was calm, dangerously so, “hand the phone to your boyfriend. Now.”

The seriousness in the person’s tone cut through Y/N’s haze, but she was too disoriented to fully grasp what was happening. She handed the phone over without thinking, and her boyfriend reluctantly took it.

Y/N watched as her boyfriend listened to whatever the person over the phone was saying, his face growing more ashen with each passing second. He tried to stammer out a response. Her boyfriend, pale and visibly shaken, fumbled with the phone before hanging up. He looked around the bar, clearly distressed and unsure of what to do next. His eyes darted around, trying to find a solution as Y/N’s friends continued to laugh and jeer, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

It wasn’t long before Seungmin made his entrance. He moved through the crowded bar with a purposeful stride, his presence commanding attention. His expression was one of intense focus and barely contained anger. The moment he spotted Y/N and her boyfriend, he headed straight for them.

Y/N’s boyfriend saw Seungmin approaching, and his face went even whiter. He tried to shield Y/N, stepping in between her and Seungmin, but the effort was futile. Seungmin, his eyes cold and unyielding, quickly took control of the situation.

“Y/N, we’re leaving,” Seungmin said firmly, his voice cutting through the noise of the bar.

Y/N, her mind still foggy from the alcohol, blinked at him in confusion. Seungmin’s presence, though imposing, was a comfort she didn’t fully grasp in her current state. He gently but firmly guided her away from the bar, his grip steady and reassuring.

Her boyfriend, looking relieved but also scared, tried to protest. “I didn’t mean for—”

“Save it,” Seungmin interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “You’ve done enough.”

With that, Seungmin led Y/N out of the bar, his arm wrapped securely around her. The cool night air hit Y/N’s face as they stepped outside, and she began to realize the full extent of what had happened. Seungmin’s familiar scent filled her senses, a mix of clean linens and something uniquely him.

As they reached the car, Seungmin opened the door for Y/N and helped her inside, his touch gentle despite his stern demeanour. Once she was settled, he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car’s interior a cocoon of quiet.

Y/N glanced over at Seungmin, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the tight grip on the steering wheel. Despite her inebriation, she could sense the depth of his concern and the barely restrained anger.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice slurred and filled with regret. “I didn’t mean—”

Seungmin cut her off with a soft sigh, his eyes fixed on the road. “It’s okay, Y/N. Let’s just get you home.”

The drive was quiet, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the wind. Y/N leaned against the window, feeling a mix of shame and gratitude. Seungmin had come through for her in a way she hadn’t expected, and the reality of her actions hit her harder with each passing mile.

When they finally arrived home, Seungmin helped Y/N inside, his touch gentle but firm. As he guided her to her room, he remained silent, his face a mask of concern and frustration.

Y/N, feeling the weight of the night’s events, looked up at him with a mixture of apology and something else—an acknowledgment of the unspoken bond between them. “Thank you,” she whispered as he helped her into bed.

Seungmin nodded, his eyes softening slightly. “Just… be careful, okay? I’m not always going to be around to save you from your own mistakes.”

With that, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Y/N lay in bed, the events of the night replaying in her mind. The realization of how deeply Seungmin cared for her, despite their complicated relationship, was both comforting and unsettling.

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — υ´• ﻌ •`υ — υ´• ﻌ •`υ — υ´• ﻌ •`υ

Y/N stirred in her bed, she’s not sure how long she has stayed in bed, the events of the night replaying in her mind. The image of Seungmin's stern, concerned face haunted her. Unable to shake off the mix of shame and lingering emotions, she found herself unable to sleep.

Y/N suddenly remembered that their parents are both out of town, which explains why her mom was not up waiting for her when she and Seungmin returned home. The weight of what had transpired pushed her from her bed, her movements unsteady as she made her way down the hallway to Seungmin’s room. She crept quietly, her steps barely making a sound as she approached his door. The house was dark and silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlights outside. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door to Seungmin's room. Seungmin, already in bed and seemingly deep in thought, was jolted awake by the slight creak of the door. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw Y/N standing there, her posture hesitant yet determined. “What are you doing?” Seungmin asked, his voice a mix of concern and confusion. He sat up, trying to make sense of the situation. Y/N, still slightly intoxicated and driven by a tumult of emotions, moved closer to him. She climbed onto the bed and, despite her state, was handsy with him, her touch lingering and desperate. “Seungmin…” she murmured, her voice slurred but filled with longing. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” Seungmin’s expression shifted from shock to something more guarded. He gently pushed her hands away, trying to maintain control over the situation. “Y/N,” he said firmly but gently, “are you here because you didn’t get to… be with your boyfriend tonight?” Y/N mewled, a soft, almost feline sound of need. Her eyes, still clouded with intoxication, looked at him with a mix of vulnerability and desire. “No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I haven’t had any intimacy with him before. I just need you, Seungmin. Only you.” Seungmin’s heart raced, torn between his own emotions and the responsibility he felt toward her. He knew how dangerous it was to act on these feelings, especially with Y/N’s current state of mind. But hearing her confession, seeing her so exposed and vulnerable, was almost unbearable. “Y/N,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly, “you need to think clearly. This isn’t the right time. You’re not in the best state to make decisions right now.” But Y/N shook her head, her eyes pleading. “No, please… I need you. I know you care for me. I can feel it.” Seungmin took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He gently but firmly took her hands in his, holding them away from him. “You’re not thinking straight right now. We need to talk about this when you’re sober and fully aware of what you’re saying.” Y/N’s expression shifted from pleading to hurt, but she slowly nodded, recognizing the truth in his words. “Okay,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible. “I’ll wait.” Seungmin helped her settle onto his bed, covering her with the blankets. He sat beside her, his own emotions a chaotic mess as he struggled to maintain his composure. The room was silent except for the soft sound of Y/N’s breathing and Seungmin’s deep, steady breaths. As Y/N’s eyes grew heavy with sleep, Seungmin remained by her side, his mind racing. The night had revealed more than he had intended, and the boundary between them had shifted in ways he wasn’t prepared for. He knew he had to be careful, both for Y/N’s sake and his own. The complexity of their feelings was becoming increasingly apparent, and navigating this new terrain would require careful consideration and restraint.

[nevaroonie]

How

A/N - The idea of a cheating angel has been on my mind for months now- And I finally got around to writin it lol. I was originally gonna make it a redactober thing but nahhhh this is fine

David x Angel Angst

TW - Cheating and Slight Explicit mentions

Edited by Nevy

Extra Edited by the wonderful @dawnofiight

The first time David realized something was wrong was when they came home. They looked distressed. He tried to ask them about it, but he was met with silence. They claimed they had a hard day at work. While he wanted to help them, they didn’t want it—hell, they didn’t even talk to him that night. It was just quiet, and he hated it—a soundless aura. 

It was almost as if his partner had turned into a block of stone. What really gagged him was the smell. They didn’t smell right. They smelt like his Angel, but the scent of someone else lingered. He shouldn’t have been concerned yet or at all really, but it just didn’t feel right. He didn’t like jumping to conclusions. In fact, he tried to respect their privacy after the issues with the cat. 

He just wanted to brush it off and move on. After all, he could just chalk it up to some draft in the air. It didn’t stop though, in fact, it got worse. Messy hair, unbuttoned shirts, and returning at random times at night. Even when they sent him a quick, ‘’Hey I’ll be returning home late. ‘’ It wasn’t reassuring; in fact, it only made things worse. 

Even as they lay together, snuggled in each other's arms, the scent of another lingered on them. However, the part that bothered David the most was that the smell wasn’t foreign. He didn’t want to believe the one he called his mate would do something like this to him, to them, or to what they shared– it was special after all.. right? Perhaps– but that would have to be the reality he had to accept. 

If he could pretend that it didn’t happen, pretend he didn’t notice the smells.. The constant returning past 12. He just wanted it to stop. He tried to believe it was just work, but it didn’t always work.  It couldn’t be anything else.. He didn’t want it to be anything else. David’s heart couldn’t take it if it was anything else. 

David took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He trusted his mate's words, no matter how much his mind clawed at him for the truth or how many late nights or midnight phone calls. He trusted them. He always did—they never gave him a reason not to. Though he never thought to look for a reason not to trust them. After all, paranoia ruins relationships.

There was a reason why their phone was ringing; there was a reason why he was holding the ringing phone in his hand. He had a reason for what he was doing right now. Yet he didn’t feel like it, he had a reason, did he? No. no.. no he had a reason. H-.. he just needed to find it. 

He didn’t answer the call, honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to .. So he just stared at the screen as it rang. David wanted to believe nothing was going on between the two. He wanted to believe it was the cat, silently hoping he was calling because it was sick again. Yet he couldn’t believe it was. Because he knew it was more than that– he always knew it was going to be more than that. 

He could pretend to not see the signs but he saw them. He always did. He noticed when they talked about him. Why? Just why? Was he not enough? Haha.. he couldn’t take himself seriously.. It was just a phone call, nothing more nothing less.. And yet he knew it was more than that.  

It was Micheal, he’d met the guy before.. They were on good terms and he was a good man. So why would he start something like this? Why would he let his feelings, past or present, get in the way of what David and.. His.. Ang-.. His partner had? 

His finger hovered over the green answer button. Though, just as he went to answer, the phone declared it was a missed phone call. Not long after the phone dinged, signifying a message was sent. He’d already gone this far.. He’d accept whatever problems came after this. 

His heart was pounding out of his chest. If it had beat any faster he’d assume it was going to burst. Why was this so anxiety-inducing? That was a stupid question.. You know why. No, he knew why. No, he wouldn’t sit here and be someone's stand-in. He needed this moment of clarity, no he didn’t need this.. He deserved it. 

He didn’t have to do much work when it came to unlocking the phone. They didn’t have a lock on it.. Supposedly they never thought they’d have a reason to put a lock on it. After all, he swore he didn’t need to go through their phone. Yet here he was.. It felt wrong.  They were his person, his mate, and his future spouse..  And if they were being untruthful he had the right to know. He could be upset– right? 

He knew he had to do this and yet his finger trembled as he slid down the notification bar. His finger trembled as he clicked on the message to see the full log. 

We need to talk about us. 

Those were the first words he saw. Not the hundreds of flirty messages as well as some with attachments. What was there to talk about? There was nothing to talk about! Nothing! He could feel the anger rising and that rage gradually gets replaced with sadness. 

Us - used by a speaker to refer to himself or herself and one or more others as the object of a verb or preposition.

That was the definition straight from the Oxford Dictionary, so why was he using that version? There were other definitions he could’ve used yet he used that one. Why did he use that version to talk to his ang.. He looked back at the bed. The mangled mess draped in covers he once called his Angel but now he couldn’t finish the word. He couldn’t even look at them anymore, he turned back around. His wrath was returning.

This affair.. Had been going on for almost 3 months.. He felt sick to his stomach looking at this.  Those late nights they climbed in his arms, kissed his lips, and even touched his bare skin. After being with him it made him sick to his stomach. The already tight knots in his chest are now moving to his stomach. Twisting and turning with the different messages and attachments. 

He placed the phone back on the dresser effectively slamming it on said dresser. He wanted to be upset, and angry but there were so many emotions;  all trying to gasp at the straws of his limbic system.  The life he wanted to plan.. The life he wanted to finish with them was gone. Thrown out the window and withered away like a burnt-out candle. 

David didn’t know how to approach this situation.  Better question: why would he want to approach this situation? How did he end up here? Why had.. Had this stranger done this to him? They were once his angel.. His mate even, but now they were a stranger in his bed. It bothered him. How they slept so peacefully after going to god knows what him.

Thinking about it made him dirty. It made him feel filthy. He wanted to scratch his skin raw with bleach. He wanted to do so much to himself. Yet he didn’t do anything, he stood and made his way towards the bedroom door. He couldn’t do this, being in the same room as them made him sick. 

 When the morning arrived he would bring this up. But right now he was too mad and sick to make any good points and despite how broken he was– he couldn’t help but notice the wetness rolling down his cheeks. He could pretend to be angry all he wanted.. But those tears helped remind him that he, unfortunately, loved that stranger who decorated the bed in the room. 

There was no fixing what they broke and honestly, he didn’t want to. He found himself getting rid of their reminders. Every picture they took, all the stupid little trinkets they brought. Right into the trashcan, just like they did with their relationship. Every photo reminded him of the good times.. However, most of those thoughts were short-lived as the messages flashed back in his mind. Though one by one every photo that contained them in it was either thrown in the trash or had their face cut out. They didn’t deserve a place in his home or his heart. Even so, they’d already ripped that to shreds no sense in beating a dead horse right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist ~ @dawnofiight @achios @porters-fangs @sunsickcrab @paythesmith @s0lairee @ashertickler @yournewmusictaste

[livia-dovehallow]

gabrily fluff - takes place during chain of iron events

months of silence only for me to break writers block with pages worth of gabrily fluff snippets that have zero relation to one another

“Gabriel, bach, come to bed,” Cecily sighed. She stood in the entryway of Will’s office, where Gabriel had been firmly planted for hours since they took over running the Institute in his absence. Cecily knew Gabriel took this responsibility very seriously at the risk of his own health. “Will only left this morning. I’m sure whatever work needs to be done can wait until morning.”

“I’ll be up in a moment,” Gabriel answered, looking through a pile of correspondence. His head rested on his forehead, intensely focused. “You go on up and sleep, Cecy.”

Cecily frowned, her arms crossed in front of her. She knew well that if she did not bring him upstairs with her, he would fall asleep right on the desk. “Come with me,” she said again. This time, Gabriel looked up at her. “I do not want to sleep alone.”

His face softened. In the light, he looked just like he did when she met him; sharp features softened by the smile that grew across his face. “All right,” he relented. He stashed the letters he had been reading into a drawer and rose from his seat. “I can’t deny that request when you look at me like that.”

Cecily smiled. “You are not tired of waking up to this face in the morning, yet? Every day for twenty years?”

“Never,” he answered, looping his arms around her waist. She craned her neck back to look at him, the point of his jaw reaching right on the top of her head. “But you knew that.”

“I just wanted to hear you say it.”

Gabriel chuckled and kissed her head. “All right. Let’s go to bed then.”

.

Just as Gabriel would never tired of waking next to her every morning, Cecily would never tire of preparing for bed with him.

For twenty years they had their routine—a quiet and peaceful pattern where Gabriel would untie her corset and dress before moving to dress himself for bed. Then, after slipping into a nightgown, Cecily would sit at her vanity and brush out her hair as Gabriel undid his shirt buttons. He’d often catch her gaze in the mirror and shake his head affectionately, but Cecily would only wink at him. Could a wife not admire her husband?

There had been a time when Cecily dreaded the idea of married monotony—but with Gabriel, it was anything but that. He did not expect her to be docile or obedient like other women were expected to be. He knew exactly who she was and what she wanted to be when he proposed to her and had never complained, never asked for anything else from her. And, of course, their children were anything but ordinary.

“What are you thinking about?” Gabriel asked, interrupting her thoughts. Cecily smiled and placed her brush down.

“That after everything we did to move out of this place, here we are again.”

Gabriel laughed, pulling the sheets back from their bed. “At least this time your brother is not here,” he offered, climbing into bed. Cecily crawled in after him. “I do believe he chose not to acknowledge that we were married when he tried to give us separate bedrooms.”

Cecily pulled the covers over herself and turned to him with a suggestive smile. “Well, seeing as he is not here,” she sang, dragging a finger along his jaw. “And we do share a bedroom and Alex is sound asleep in the nursery...”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Our first night charged as heads of the Institute and you suggest we treat this bed as a marital bed?”

Cecily shrugged. “It’s certainly been a bit,” she said. “At our home, there is always some sort of trouble running about too close by. Here—Here, well, the boys’ bedrooms are in the other wing, as is Lucie’s.”

Gabriel’s questionable expression morphed into a ghost of a smile. “You, Cecy, are quite fearless.”

“I have been told.”

Gabriel rolled over until his hands were on either side of her head, his body hovering over hers. “Your wish is my command, Mrs. Lightwood,” he breathed.

[zhnnveuxpasdrmir]

some blogs are tough to deal with. a strong part of me wants to unfollow or block the blog, not necessarily because it's objectionable in spirit, but because the author is reactionary & generally unaware of it. repeating scares, adopting bigotries easily and quickly, clutching pearls at just any 'warning' or callout

(a lot of you, a lot of you are like that, btw)

a weak part of me says "but maybe they can still be reached"

jesus! that fatal poisonous belief that you could be reached ha ha!

yeah you can be reached. the terfs and democrats showed that pretty clearly.

it bums me out, makes it hard for me to prop up a positive view of you as a person and y'all as a demographic, but sometimes the worse feeling comes from hovering over that unfollow or block button.

do I keep pretending you can be reached? I sure can't keep pretending you're not dangerous

do I tell myself I have no responsibility to you? do I tell myself my time is done and it doesn't matter what happens to you since you can't be reached and you're the dangerous norm, now, instead of the valuable outlier?

idk. the way there's like 1 pleasant person for every 999 seriously smug & proudly ineducable dipshits makes it a hard sell to my brain. I can't deny that now it hurts less to see the death of the natural world first hand. isn't that fucked up? I'm shown the index of a dying world and my thoughts become "enh. these kids weren't going to do anything good with Life anyway. who cares if a bunch of show-watcher finger-wagging moral majority teens die suffocating on burning plastic"

dems are responsible for trump - tumblr is responsible for jk rowling.

[chameleani]

._.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Legally Yours - Ch. 01 (Prologue)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: None. Maybe the end will get your heart racing.

WC: 1796

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Buy me a coffee

Y/N’s sitting at her desk as she types an answer to the inquiry from a customer, when her friend Donna practically slams a glamour magazine over her keyboard. 

“Have you seen this?” The blond woman asks. 

“Jesus, Donna! I haven’t saved that document yet! God!” She picks the magazine up and tosses it to the side as she continues to finish the document on her screen. 

Donna’s still waiting, staring at her and she wonders if that woman has nothing else to do. Y/N’s sure Donna has plenty to do, they always have a lot of work and that’s why she gets home so late and sometimes, Liv would already be asleep. Sometimes, when she’s lucky, Liv was awake and she’d read her a bedtime story of princesses who are rescued by a heroic prince.

As soon as Y/N is finished, she turns around in her chair, to see her friend still staring at her instead of doing her own work. 

“What is it?” She asked with that added annoyed nuance to her tone of voice.

“Look!” Donna lifts her chin to point towards the magazine she slammed in front of Y/N just a moment before, “Have you seen it?”

Turning back around to her desk, she picks it up, “Donna, I’m not reading those mags, so no, I haven’t seen it. Why?”

Instead of answering her, Donna only grins. The grin that shows her dimples. The wicked one, “Page twenty-six,” 

With raised eyebrows and that little spark of curiosity which Donna had added to her interest, Y/N rifles through the pages until she reaches page twenty-six. 

There’s a picture of a man who stares right at her. He’s wearing a perfect suit. His one hand fakes the adjusting of his cufflink on his wrist. It’s a total male model pose. Well, he looks like one, so she can’t really say that anything’s out of the ordinary. 

At a second glance, though, she realizes that he looks familiar. His face is a little scruffy, but that makes him look edgier, makes him look more handsome. He’s smiling bright, showing his perfect white teeth. There are crinkles around his emerald eyes, seven on his right side, and she knows she shouldn’t even be counting them, so she ignores his left side. And she definitely can’t help but notice the freckles across his face. 

Oh, she thinks.

Oooohhhh.

“Is that..?” She asks with a frown that gets deeper between her eyebrows because she’s just not sure? She hasn’t seen the man that many times in real life. 

“Ya! Our fucking boss! The icy King!” Donna shouts, “Isn’t he dreamy? My god, I wanna eat him up! And he doesn’t look as icy and distant like he always does,”

“Donna!”

“What? Only telling the truth here! Read what the headline says!”

Her friend is right, though, Mr. Winchester’s normal aloof and cold persona isn’t captured in the picture. He’s known to be the icy King in the company. Instead, he looks kind of welcoming and warm. Y/N eyes go to the top of the page, and she can’t lie, it’s hard to concentrate on the writing when there’s a good looking man staring her down.

The headline is in all caps.

 DEAN WINCHESTER, HOTTEST ENTREPRENEUR 2020

 She frowns, as her eyes leave the magazine to look back at her friend, “That’s what you wanted to show me?” 

“Duh! There’s also a whole article about him being the center of attention everywhere he goes,”

“Well, that’s not really surprising, is it? Looking like that?”

“It also says that he has a fiancée.”

“That’s also not surprising,” Y/N shrugs, “I mean, seriously, look at him. Who wouldn’t want to marry that?” She didn't. At least not when they say that he’s cold-hearted. But again, she’s not the norm here because every female is gushing about him. 

She closes the magazine loudly, deciding that she shouldn’t waste more time. She wants to get home on time today. Liv went on a field trip with her school and she wants to hear her little girl telling her about how exciting it was. Y/N still has a lot of work to do and also a meeting with her supervisor later. The sleazebag.

“So, can I go back to work?” She turns to Donna, “I have a meeting with Raphael in about twenty minutes.”

“Ew,” Donna cringes her nose.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Exactly,”

“Will you tell him off?”

“I already did,” She sighs, “Multiple times,”

“Why don’t you just go to HR?”

Donna knows what happens. What always happens when she has a meeting with Raphael. He’s always trying things with her. Accidentally brushes his hand against her breast or her ass. He once told her to sit in his lap as he was showing her the numbers of her performance. It wasn’t the first time he suggested it, and she doubts that it will be the last time either. He tried to kiss her more than once, but knowing that they are in an office environment, he didn’t dare to force her too much. He also offers to drive her home almost every week, and she’s slowly getting tired of it, not to mention creeped out.

At their last meeting, he made her hang up a picture frame in his office. His hand rested on her hips to supposedly support her, but they traveled further down until he kneaded her ass in his palms. She immediately got down from there, and left the room wordlessly. 

She knows another secret about Raphael, though. One she could use against him, but she just doesn’t know how just yet. Y/N knows and has got proof that he’s been skimming money. He takes it out of the customer’s account. Not a lot, a small sum that customers wouldn’t notice is missing, but in the end, it’s probably a whole lot when he does it to all the customers he’s supposed to look after. 

Again, she can’t really bring that up because she’s sure that he’ll spin it around and Raphael is good at that. With a push on the button of his keyboard, he could reverse everything and she knows that. 

“I can’t go to HR,” Y/N lowers her head and mumbles to her friend, “Because they won’t believe me,”

And that’s the truth too. The Head of HR is Duma, a woman who occasionally fucks Raphael. They have a friend with benefits thing going on, even if she’s married with children. Duma will never believe her because Y/N’s sure that Raphael can spin this perfectly to fit his narrative. 

Besides, what can she possibly tell? It’s her against him. It’s like a mouse against an elephant. She’s only an accountant and is replaceable, whereas Raphael is a member of the leadership team. And who will be let go? She doesn’t think it’s going to be him and she needs the job to survive. 

Y/N watches as Donna’s lips start to curl up, the white teeth of the woman are visible, as she drums her fingers annoyingly on her own desk.

With a frown, she asks her friend, “What?”

“I have an idea,” Donna says and pulls up her outlook calendar. 

She types in something, and then a calendar appears with a lot of colorful blocks. 

Oh no. She has quite the idea of who’s calendar it is even if she can’t read the name from where she’s sitting, which is too far away because she doesn’t want to give the impression that she’s not working. And it’s stupid that they can do that. They have quite an open calendar policy at the office. Everyone can send and block meetings for everyone, even for the icy King. 

“Donna, no!”

“Why, Donna, yes!” Her friend grins, “He has an open window right now. The meeting in the boardroom is in ten minutes. You should go tell him what you know. If someone can change anything, it’s him, right?”

Donna’s not wrong, she isn’t. But Mr. Winchester is what? At least four tiers above her if not five. Why should he care what a simple worker in his company is thinking? Why should he care what the hell she goes through every day while he earns enough profit to fuel his expensive and glamorous lifestyle?

“He wouldn’t believe me,” She shakes her head.

“You can tell him about the money skimming, I bet he won’t be happy to hear that.”

“Ugh,”

Donna stands up and walks over to her, braces her hands on the chair Y/N’s sitting on, “What’s the worst that could happen, huh?”

“That I get fired?”

“Meh,” Donna squeaked, “I doubt that. You’re doing a great job. Your records are great. And besides, if they do that, you can go and file a lawsuit against them. Besides, who knows, if you go to HR, Raphael will fire you before the icy King does.”

True, but still. 

“Now go get your ass up to the executive floor. Maybe take him a coffee, I heard he likes it black,”

“Oh, just like his heart?”

“Ya, maybe I wouldn’t tell him that?” Donna chuckles.

 *

 Y/N’s on her way to the elevators. She can’t believe that she’s really doing it. But Donna’s right. She can’t go on and live like that. It’s already hard to part from her child every morning and to get bullied at her job and being sexually harassed should not be the norm. She just fucking wants to earn enough money to keep her kid and herself above water.

God, she’s really doing it! 

Fuck.

There are six elevators lined up in the foyer. Three on each side. Only one goes up to the executive floor and also one is reserved for Mr. Winchester’s penthouse on the top floor. Everybody knows that. 

To get the elevator to run up to the executive floor, Y/N would need to have a card with a chip, which she doesn’t, and she feels stupid to have just realized it. And now she’s standing here, lost, with a hot black coffee in a lidless plastic cup that almost burns her fingers off.

Ugh. 

She’s so fucking stupid.

Well, she could still try, couldn’t she? She jumped over her own fear and has come this far. She definitely shouldn’t give up now. 

Her finger hovers over the buttons. Closing her eyes and exhaling loudly, she gives the button a push. Standing back, she waits, her heart is drumming loudly against her ribcage.

And she doesn’t even have to wait long because not even thirty seconds later, the elevator dings and opens up to reveal a man in a nice suit staring back at her.

It’s him.

Ch. 02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[mynumberfivethings]

I Heard A Rumor...

They land back in 2019, which is a relief, of course, until it’s not. 

“What the fuck even is the Sparrow Academy?” Diego grouses. “Lame ass bird fucks.” he chucks one of his knives across the cramped motel room they’re currently occupying and watches it get lodged firmly into the tacky wallpaper. 

Allison grabs the second knife Diego’s about to fling out of his hand and glares  daggers at her brother. “We’re staying here for free, because I rumored the motel staff into not noticing we exist, so maybe don’t wreck the place?” 

Luther nods in agreement. “Allison’s right, we need to be as inconspicuous as possible right now.” 

Diego rolls his eyes. “Whatever. So Five, now what?” the siblings all go to turn to Five for the answers they’re so desperately seeking, only to be met with the sight of the pseudo thirteen year old laid curled up on one of the beds, sound asleep. 

Luther frowns. “How in the hell can he seriously sleep at a time like this?” 

Allison leans over Fives still form and not so gently shakes his shoulder, jarring him awake. She feels a little guilt upon seeing the initially panicked look on his face as he comes to awareness once again, but damn it, she just wants to see her kid again, is that too much to ask? 

“We need to figure out a way to get back to our timeline.” she tells him, arms folded over her chest.

Five scratches the sleep from his eyes, unaware he’d even passed out in the first place, wincing as he sits up fully on the mattress. “This is our timeline.” he informs all of them, his voice coming out scratchy and thin. God, he’s exhausted. And practically everything aches. 

“What do you mean?” Klaus shakes his head. “In our timeline Ben is very much dead-not some weird emo douche who flocks with a crew of birds-so please do explain how the actual hell this makes any sense.” 

Five sighs, “We changed the linear time of events and the order in which they were supposed to originally occur when we were in the sixties and now this is, for all intents and purposes, our timeline.” 

“Screw that. We need to reestablish our actual timeline.” Allison counters. “I’m not staying in this weird alternate bullshit dimension any longer than we have to-we still have the suitcase, right? Let’s go back to the sixties and fix what we broke. Easy.” 

Five looks at her like she’s lost her mind. Which, she very well may have, he thinks briefly. “Look, I know you want to see Claire again, but you need to consider-”

“No.” Allison interrupts angrily, tears starting to fill her eyes. “You don’t understand at all. How the hell could you? You haven’t had anyone for years, but me? I’ve had people, people I care about-which might be a foreign concept to someone like you, but-” 

“Right,” Five cuts her off in turn, unwilling to linger on the sting her words have caused. “I just need time to-” 

“Time? Haven’t you had enough of that, already?” Suddenly the room is engulfed in complete and utter darkness and the Hargreeves go into high alert, trying to figure out where the hell that voice is coming from. 

Could it be one of the Sparrow Academy heroes? Could they have followed them to the outskirts of town? 

“Show yourself, you coward!” Diego shouts, knives at the ready to attack their intruder. 

A flash of thunder illuminates the room for only a split second before the lights come back on and the Hargreeves find themselves frozen in place, unable to move even a muscle, try as they might. 

Save for one: Five. 

“What the hell...” he mutters, as he watches his siblings struggle to try and move from their positions. 

“Now, Allison.” that same disturbing voice commands. 

Allisons eyes go wide as her mouth begins to move without her permission and out come the words, “I heard a rumor you killed your brothers and sisters.” 

They watch with dawning horror as Fives eyes roll to the back of his head and turn an off shade of blue before he seamlessly plucks Diegos knife from where it was embedded in the wall earlier and faces his family, where they stand, helpless. 

“Shit!” Diego curses, trying in vain to move even a single digit. 

Vanya tries to conjure her own powers but finds that she can’t for some reason. “Five...” she calls out, knowing it’s futile. 

Five blinks over to Klaus first, who yelps in surprise, he barely has time to beg Five to reconsider when Five brings the knife down-

There’s boisterous screaming and panicked yelling and general chaos and Klaus is so sure this is it, that Five has plunged the knife straight into his heart and done away with him, until he opens his eyes and realizes nothing is protruding out of him...

Instead, Five has thrust the knife into his own leg. He’s breathing hard, his trembling fingers still hovering over the hilt of the weapon. 

The disembodied voice booms, “Allison!” 

And Allison curses, but she can’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. “I heard a rumor you stabbed me in the jugular.” 

Fives eyes go pale blue for a second time and without even flinching he takes the knife out of his upper thigh and blinks so that he’s facing Allison this time. 

They can all see him struggling, perspiring, fighting against the rumor as he brandishes the knife in one hand, raising it up above his head slowly. 

Allison tries to let out another rumor, a contradicting rumor, perhaps, the way she had done when Five had been in front of Klaus, but again, the words get stuck in her throat. 

Whatever being is in the room is in total control of her powers... 

Allison feels something collide with her neck but it’s not the sharp sting of a knife she’s expecting. It’s Five’s forearm against her, protecting her from his own attack as he shoves the knife directly into his flesh. He’s panting now, with the force that it’s taken him not to obey her mind control. 

“Kill them.” the voice demands angrily. 

“Fuck you.” Five bites out through clenched teeth. 

As if those were the magic words, the voice departs and the Hargreeves can feel their limbs and move about once again, the tense atmosphere dissipating. 

“Holy shit!” Klaus gasps out, “What the fuck, Jesus!” 

Five grunts as he removes the knife from his forearm and wields it threateningly. “Allison,” he practically begs, his voice strained. “Unrumor me. Now.” 

Allison is more than happy to comply, hurriedly saying, “I heard a rumor you didn’t want us dead.” 

The knife clatters as it hits the floor and Five collapses next to it a second later, exhausted and hurting something awful. 

“Shit,” Diego grabs a bunch of hand towels from the bathroom and kneels down. “We gotta stop the bleeding.” He presses two towels against the stab wound on Fives forearm and Vanya grabs the rest to press against the one on his thigh. 

Five tenses up beneath them, his face scrunching up in pain. “Fuck!” 

“I saw a first aid kit in the lobby by the front desk, I’ll go get it!” Allison calls out, already halfway out the door in her haste. 

“Should we move him to the bed?” Luther asks, hovering over his siblings, concern and anxiety eating away at him. 

Diego curses. The hand towels are drenched in blood already. They need to stop the bleeding and soon, or else. “Elevate his leg.” he orders, letting Luther help Vanya try to stem the bleeding there. “Klaus, go get more towels from one of the maids if you can.” Klaus scurries to obey while the others continue to put pressure on Fives multiple injuries. 

Klaus and Allison arrive back at the motel room almost simultaneously, one with a stack of clean towels in their arms and the other with a giant red box in hand. 

With the extra towels and the supplies from the medical kit, they’re somehow able to stop the bleeding long enough to move Five up to the bed. Luther’s extremely gentle as he transfers him from one spot to the other. 

When it’s time to stitch him up, Vanya and Klaus volunteer to do it. Five is too exhausted, both mentally and physically to pretend to be stoic about any of this. He throws his good arm across his face, shielding his eyes from the light. 

“What do you guys think that was?” Luther asks the room at large, when the silence stretches on too long. 

Klaus doesn’t look up from where he’s threading his needle on Fives thigh, replying dryly. “Yet another person place or thing that wants us dead?” 

Diego scoffs. “It’s gotta be one of those Sparrow fuckheads. Who the hell else? I bet it was that goddamn cube-I still can’t believe dad adopted a fucking cube-Christ.” 

“Whatever it was, it was in control of my powers.” Allison frowns deeply. “When I tried to unrumor Five nothing came out-even when I tried rumoring one of you into being able to move again, so that at least we would stand a fighting chance against our little serial killer over here, nothing.” 

Vanya nods, “Same here. I tried to use my powers but it was like there was some kind of a block or something? Like when I was still taking those prescription pills.” She looks at Fives pale face-what she can see of it, from underneath his forearm-and risks the question, “Five, how did you manage not to....you know...?” As someone who’s had first hand experience being unwillingly rumored by their sister, she knows it’s not something one can easily brush off. 

Quite frankly, it’s a miracle they’re all still breathing... 

“Yeah, I thought for sure we were dead.” Diego walks over and playfully ruffles the top of Fives messy hair. “Good job not making yourself an only child.” he jokes, freezing entirely when in response to his teasing Five lets out what can only be described as a faint whimper. 

“Five?” 

“I almost killed everyone.” Five struggles to get the full sentence out, his breath hitching. “Fuck.” he curses, unable to stifle a sob. It’s a pathetically sad little noise, but it brings the rest of his siblings to his side immediately. 

“Hey,” Allison kneels down beside the bed and places a careful hand on his knee. She feels him flinch underneath her. “You resisted my rumor-twice. Do you know how rare that is? You saved us.” 

Five scrubs his face with the sleeve of his white button up shirt and finally uncovers his eyes. They’re red and puffy from crying, eyelashes wet with his tears. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” he admits brokenly. “I can’t lose you guys again.” 

“Shit Five,” Diego leans down and briefly touches their foreheads together, the palm of his hand cupping Fives head. “You’re not alone, we’re right here. Not going anywhere.” 

Vanya nods determinedly. “That’s right. You’re stuck with us.” 

Luther towers over the group with a faint but genuine smile. “You know, I always figured you loved us, but I guess I didn’t realize the extent until today.” 

Five sniffles, wiping away more tears he can’t seem to stop from coming. “I would trade you all up for a decent cup of coffee.” he lies, feeling more exposed than he has in literal years. 

Klaus smirks. “Nuh uh, no take backs, Fivey. You loooooove us.” 

Five rolls his eyes but it doesn’t have quite the same effect it normally would, considering the fact that he is still very much crying. 

Allison clears her throat, squeezes his knee again, this time to get his attention, and says, “And we love you. I’d ask if you know that, but honestly I think the answer would make me too sad.” she sighs. “Five, I’m really sorry about what I said before-I was taking all my frustrations out on you and I spoke carelessly, without thinking.” 

Five shakes his head, overwhelmed. “It’s ok.” 

“It’s not.” Allison insists. “Five, I don’t know if anyone’s said this yet, but I think it’s long overdue. I’m so happy to see you again. I missed you, you know. A ton.” 

Five didn’t think he was childish enough to still need to hear such silly sentimental things. He’s not the type, he’s tried to convince himself. It’s not as though he was expecting some big tearful family reunion upon his arrival, after all. So he wasn’t crushed or anything when his return was met with little more than perhaps confused contemptment. He had things to do, apocalypses to stop and all that jazz. 

That’s what he told himself, of course. 

But it doesn’t ring very true now, not when he can’t help but let out another sob. 

He’s too old for this, he thinks, as Diego pulls him gently to his side and Allison grabs hold of his hand. 

He doesn’t need them to love him back, he thinks, as Klaus finishes taping up his wound with a tenderness only reserved for those he loves, as Vanya wraps gauze around his forearm with care. 

He’s been fine all this time, he thinks, even as Luther says, “Good to have you back, Five.” 

It’s good to be back, he thinks, turning his head so that it’s buried against Diego’s shoulder when he lets out another sob. 

.

[fandomimagines1]

Undercover

Not Requested - I saw this GIF and instantly got an idea for it.

Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: While undercover watching a criminals house, Y/N rants about how ex boyfriend to her partner Jay who would rather be anywhere but sat there listening.

(GIF’s not mine)

“But why post that as though it’s going to upset me or something.” I roll my eyes.

“Yeah.” Jay nods.

“Does he seriously think I’d be jealous of them. I don’t even care. I’m over it.” I shake my head.

“Yeah.” Jay repeats himself again not fully listening to the conversation.

“He could of tried making me jealous with something other than a kangaroo.” I look at him watching as his face remains the same.

“Totally.” He nods, continuing to look out the window.

“Jay.” I raise my voice and his eyes flicker to me for a second.

“I’m not really interested. I’m sorry, but this is the fifth time you’ve told me about you two breaking up.” He raises an eyebrow before putting his attention back to the house we were tasked with watching.

“I listen to you everyday when you rant.” I tell him.

“You’ve been saying you’re going to leave him forever for how long now though?” He looks back at me.

“A while.” I frown.

“And how many times have you gone back to him.” He raises an eyebrow.

“A lot.” I sigh.

“You need to block him.” He pulls my phone out of my hand.

“Jay.” I reach for my phone, but he blocks me with one hand while his other presses the block button.

“There. It’s for your own good. And mine.” He mumbles the last bit as he throws my phone into my lap.

“I can’t believe you’ve done that.” I look down at my phone to see I couldn’t view any of his photos.

“Do not unblock him.” He turns to me again as he spots my finger hovering above the button.

“I wouldn’t” I shake my head.

“I’m serious. You deserve better.” He tells me.

“Yeah well let me know when you meet him.” I sigh locking my phone without unblocking him.

“He’s out.” Jay looks over and spots the guy we were looking for.

“Dawson, it’s Y/L/N and Halstead. Backup ready?” I ask over the radio.

“Backups ready on your signal.” His voice comes through.

“Shit.” Jay mutters as the guy spots us and starts walking along,

“Just go with it.” I tell him as I climb over, onto his knee.

“What are you doing?” Jay asks.

“Getting rid of him.” I tell him kissing him.

“That was close.” Jay breathes out as I pull away.

“Yeah.” I go to move my leg but his hands grip my hips, holding me in place.

“He never deserved you.” He tells me.

“I know.” I mutter.

“I wouldn’t either.” He mumbles as his hands slide up the back of my top. I lean in towards him placing my lips on his once more. My hands go into his hair as his hands pull my top up slightly.

“Y/L/N. Ready?” I hear Dawson’s voice over the radio and I spot the guy we were watching in the car behind us about to pull off.

“He’s in a Blue Ford Focus. Registration is covered. Turning left on Harvard Avenue.” I speak over the radio. 

“Coming along Jackson Street now.” Dawson’s voice is heard.

“They won’t need us.” Jay tells me.

“Halstead and I are going to hang back because he spotted us before getting in his car.” I announce. 

“He’s in our sight now.” Dawson’s voice goes quiet as Jay turns the radio down.

“You don’t want to hear how the pursuit goes?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Not one bit.” He laughs pulling me back into a kiss.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Lost & Found - 13

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment, oc feels like she’s gonna puke which, honestly, same

Word Count: 5.3k

a/n: we’ve only got a few chapters left!!!! *cue the screaming*

Chapter 13. You Never Walk Alone

series masterlist

I’ve never been one to follow the rules.

In fact, I’ve wondered many times if I came into existence for the sole purpose of breaking as many rules as possible within a short amount of time.

However, as I sit here staring down at my phone and listening to it ringing without someone answering on the other end, I find myself promising whoever is listening to my prayers that I’ll obey every rule to come my way for the rest of my life as long as someone just answers me.

For hours, no one does.

By the time the moon has risen, I’ve finally dozed off on the couch with my phone still in hand and a very confused Elle on my stomach. When my phone begins to ring, I jump, nearly falling off of the couch in the process.

Without even bothering to see who is calling me, I bring the phone up to my ear.

“Yah, hyung. I’m already- oh...Jolie?”

I blink, wondering for a moment if this is all some cruel dream. “...Jimin? What’s going on- what happened?”

“You’re safe- she’s safe, hyung.” There’s chatter in the background, but my ears perk up at a familiar voice. “I’m so sorry, you must have been worried sick- hey!”

“Jolie?”

I jump off the couch, eyes wide. “Chung-hei?! What’s going on? Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I- I thought…”

I don’t quite know what I thought. Obviously, that the worst had transpired. Chung-hei knows exactly what path my thoughts have taken, as she’s quick to explain.

“I’m so sorry, Jolie. When we left your place Sunmi noticed that someone was tailing us,” my breath comes up short. “I think they thought you were with us, they might have been tailing the car for the past couple of days to make sure it was yours. And then they probably saw Christina…”

She doesn’t need to explain that to me. No doubt whoever was tailing them saw Christina with her severed thread and automatically assumed that she was Jimin’s estranged soulmate.

“So what happened? Is everyone ok? Is Christina alright?”

There’s some fumbling on the other side of the phone, and I swear I hear Chung-hei’s annoyed sigh but it’s quickly covered as another familiar voice breaks through the phone.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me!” Christina shouts a little unnecessarily.

“I- how did you hear me?” I ask, furrowing my brows. “Am I on speaker?”

There’s a long pause in which I know that I must be on speaker, especially as a voice that sounds mysteriously like Kim Seokjin shouts “Yeah you are we wanted to know what you sound like!” There’s a muffled grunt in which I can imagine someone giving him a firm elbow to the ribs.

“Hang on, let me step outside-” Christina’s suggestion is met with a load of whining, but she must ignore them because a second later all is silent save for the sound of wind. “There. I needed to get out of there- I’m freaking out. I’m so dying right now.”

“I’m sure you’re rattled, you were literally just tailed! How did you lose them?”

“Oh, yeah. That sucked, but I was talking about the fact that I literally just met BTS. I don’t want to spoil anything for you, but Park Jimin is so much more handsome in person. I couldn’t hardly think straight in there-”

“Yeah, yeah,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Save it for later. I was a mess over here, thinking you’d died or something. Can you please explain what went on?”

Once she subsides in her giggling - and I get over the strange butterflies that have somehow come to life in my stomach - Christina gets to the point.

“Right...well, we’d only made it a couple of blocks before Sumni noticed that someone was following us. She’s been trained to pick up on that kind of stuff, you know. She said that they’d been hiding out near your apartment earlier, and that it looked like they’d been waiting the entire time while we’d been inside.”

“So how’d you lose them?”

“She drove straight toward the Bighit building and contacted the security there. By the time the people tracking us knew that she was leading them into a trap, it was too late. They got pulled over, security took them over to the police department a little while ago.”

I shiver thinking about them lurking outside of my apartment, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

“And...why didn’t you answer my calls, then? I seriously was about to go running around Seoul looking for you.”

Christina barks a laugh. “That’d be a sight to see. We were told to power off our phones, they’re being looked at right now to make sure they weren’t able to somehow get a way to track us through there. We should get them back pretty soon.”

Taking a seat and then slinking down to sprawl out on the couch, I sight at the ceiling. My eyes well up tears of relief, but I close my eyes to stop them from escaping. “I’m happy you’re safe.”

“Me too. The boys were already at the Bighit building, you should’ve seen Jimin. He was-” Christina lowers her voice as though suddenly realizing that she’s not that far from the man in question, “You know how the boys say that he can be really scary when he’s angry?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I believe them now. I think it was a good thing security took those people away before he could see them. He probably would have killed them, he looked so pissed off.”

I snort out a laugh, throwing my hand over my mouth. “Let me guess, that only made him more attractive to you?”

“You know what, it totally did.”

It feels good to laugh after the stress of the day, so I let it out. Giggling up a storm with Christina who admits that she may be wavering in her undying devotion for Jimin simply because of the fact that Taehyung offered her a glass of lemonade.

“Oh, oh! He’s looking at me- oh. He’s telling me to come back inside.” I let out another guffaw at Christina’s massive crush on Taehyung. “Hey, I have to turn you back over to your soulmate now, but I’ll let you know when I get my phone back. Ok?”

“Ok,” I mumble, suddenly going quiet. There’s some static as the phone is exchanged, and suddenly Jimin’s speaking to me.

“Hey...you doing ok?”

I blink, taken aback by his question. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, when he doesn’t respond, “Are you...alright?”

From the way the voices in the background are fading, Jimin must be moving away to find a more private location. Indeed, I again hear Seokjin’s teasing voice in the background however it’s too muffled to understand.

“Yeah. All good over here.” I hear a door click shut. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, though. About everything that happened today. You might not like it, but...well, it’s for your own safety.”

This has me sitting up straight, bracing for whatever it is he’s about to say. “Ok…”

“We need you to stay inside, don’t leave your house. Just for a couple of days, maximum. We don’t know if these people had more that were trying to track you, and until we can round them all up…”

I stare blankly at the wall in front of me. Stay here? No work?

Honestly, it doesn’t sound that bad.

Except for one little thing.

“...Jolie?”

“I...I’m not sure, Jimin.”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry,” it makes it so much worse, because I can hear just how sorry he is. “But please, just for a few days. We need- I need you safe.”

How can I say no to that?

“Alright.”

“You’ll do it? I’ll have groceries delivered, just text me what you need-”

“I’m pretty sure I can pay for my groceries, Jimin,” I say with a strained smile, eyeing the calendar on the wall and the circled date just a couple of days from now. Hopefully all of this will blow over by then. “Don’t worry.”

“Honestly, if you don’t send me a grocery list I’ll just end up sending random food to your apartment. So take your pick, I guess.”

Rolling my eyes fondly, I give an over exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll compile a list.”

✂

The girls get their phones back not long after I finish my conversation with Jimin. Sunmi is quick to send me a play by play of Christina’s growing crush, which helps to ease the worry growing in the pit of my stomach.

The next morning there’s a pile of groceries waiting outside on my doorstep, making me smile softly. Jimin had clearly added a few items to my small list, because I don’t remember requesting a bag of chocolates or a bag of Doritos. Either way, I’ll take it.

There isn’t a whole lot to do with my day off, other than find a new show to watch and different ways to annoy Elle. Jimin texts me throughout the day, and I find myself itching to call him.

If only to just hear his voice for a moment.

However, as my fingers hover over the call button, I find myself hesitating. It scares me just how quickly I want to interact with him. After all that I did to distance myself from him, I’ve been reduced to an insatiable fangirl after a bouquet of flowers and some slipped chocolates.

Staring at my phone, I try my best to control my breathing. Then I send off a message.

Me: Ok, help. I’m freaking out.

Christina is quick to respond.

Christina 🍯: hahahahaha

Me: what.

Me: I come to you for help and I get laughed at? 😡

Christina 🍯: no, it’s just...when are you not freaking out?

Christina 🍯: think about it

Christina 🍯: you always are lol

Me: Ok. Not helping. Remember, I came to you for help?

Christina 🍯: right right, what’s up

Me: I think this is all happening too fast

Christina 🍯: I’m assuming this is about Park Jimin?? Who, might I add, looked fiiiine in his sweats yesterday

Me: QUIT IT

Me: I’M GROWING WEAK

Christina 🍯: are you feeling things?!! 😱

Me: YES OK I AM PLS HELP

Christina 🍯: I don’t see why you need help…?

Christina 🍯: isn’t this a good thing?

Me: is it?

Christina 🍯: ...yes.

Christina 🍯: what brought this on?

Me: I want to call him.

Christina 🍯: ….

Me: We just talked last night.

Christina 🍯: ….

Me: well, isn’t it all a bit much? I mean, I literally was trying to be completely separated from him just a few weeks ago and now I’m suddenly having to remind myself that I don’t need to constantly talk to him! Isn’t that like a bit...idk, a bit sketchy??

Christina 🍯: no.

Christina 🍯: idk if you remember this, but he’s your soulmate. And sometimes when people start to meet their soulmates, they want to talk all the time.

Me: isn’t it going to annoy him? I mean, I already kinda feel like a pity case…

Christina 🍯: first off, no. you’re not a pity case, so stop thinking that. If anyone’s a pity case, it’s me because I was invited to lunch today with Chung-hei nd the boys and I’m gonna ride this out for as long as possible

Christina 🍯: if I could sneak you a picture of Tae without looking like a creep, I totally would 😰

Me: ok, I don’t know how to respond to that lolll

Me: have fun at lunch though!!! Don’t drool or anything

Christina 🍯: yeah, let’s move past that 😂

Christina 🍯: just, call him. Honestly, he’s been checking his phone constantly anyways. And, don’t you think he deserves it? Call him. You know I don’t mean this in a rude way but...he’s done everything in this weird relationship-that’s-not-a-relationship so far. Time for you to return the favor.

✂

“...Jimin?”

Jimin blinks, looking around the table until his eyes land on who was just calling his name. Chung-hei smiles at him from her spot beside Namjoon.

“Yes?”

It’s when everyone starts to giggle that he realizes he must have missed something.

“How’re you doing over there?” Chung-hei asks. Jimin frowns.

“...good. How are you?”

Namjoon places his arm on the back of Chung-hei’s chair, and Jimin notices the way her cheeks automatically redden.

“You seem a little distracted today,” Namjoon croons. “That’s all.”

Looking around at everyone’s amused faces, Jimin notices one face that isn’t looking in his direction.

Christina is smiling slightly at her phone, fingers flying across the screen as she texts out a message.

“Christina’s distracted too!” Jimin points to the girl like a kindergartener, a sly smile on his face when she looks up at him with raised brows.

“Hey, it’s for a good reason,” she says.

“Oh?” Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “And what would that be?”

Everyone notices the way Christina looks at Taehyung before quickly looking away, as though looking at him for too long could burn her. Like a moth to a candle, though, she can’t quite stay away.

“His soulmate,” she finally says, pointing an accusing finger right back at him. “I’m helping her through an existential crisis or something.”

Jimin automatically scoots forward, concern written across his face. “What’s going on? Does she need something?”

Christina snorts as a text - a text from Jolie, apparently - comes through on her phone. “No. She’s fine. Just needs to get out of her head. I suspect that sitting cooped up in the house isn’t helping.”

Ah.

It had hurt to have to order her to stay home, he knew how much that could hurt. Sure, some people might not have a problem with it. But something told him that there were only so many distractions in Jolie’s small apartment that could keep her entertained. Hopefully it would all be over soon.

And then what?

That was the question that had been plaguing him today. How long would he be forced to run this same track over and over again? How long until they were both ready to face each other?

They were going to face each other, right?

Christina sits back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, looking quite pleased with herself.

“What are you so happy about?” Jimin asks, leaning back and crossing his arms. Christina merely looks at him and then down at his phone which sits atop the table.

Just like magic, it begins to ring.

“O-oh, uh…” Jimin scrambles to his feet, nearly tipping over his water in the process. Grabbing his phone, he looks for the quickest exit.

“Why don’t you just stay in here?” Jin asks, ever the prying one. “We can all chat.”

Jimin pays him no mind, heading straight for the door and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?” He prays he sounds nonchalant.

“Aish, he’s already so over-protective,” Hobi calls out loud enough for Jolie to hear on the other side of the phone.

“Hyung! At least wait until I’m out of the room!” Jimin shouts back, finally slipping out into the hallway. Jolie’s laugh is enough to make him smile.

“Sounds like you’re having fun,” she teases.

Jimin sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. “So much. How are you? Have you gone stir-crazy yet?”

There’s a moment’s silence. “Yes. Definitely. I think by about eight o’clock this morning, actually.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Another moment of silence, in which Jimin scrambles for something - anything to say in order to keep her on the phone.

“Did you, uh, get the groceries?” It’s a pointless question; he was notified this morning when they were dropped off.

“Oh! I did! And I saw some chocolate…? And Doritos. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Jimin grins. “Nope. No clue.”

“Huh. Interesting. I could have sworn you’d added them in there. What are you trying to do, make me fall in love with you or something?”

Of course, the answer is yes. Can he say that, though?

Aren’t they supposed to be taking this slow? Why did nobody tell him that it would be this hard to do something so simple?

“Sorry...was that awkward?”

Jimin starts at the sound of Jolie’s voice, realizing that he never responded. “Er, no. Sorry, I was just thinking.” He chuckles awkwardly. “Is chocolate all it takes, then?”

He swears he can hear a gasp on the other side of the phone, but then again that may just be wishful thinking.

Either way, he temporarily throws caution to the wind. He knows he’s toeing the line, but he can’t find it in himself to back off. Not when he can hear Jolie’s soft laugh on the other side of the phone and wonders if she’s wearing that same smile he saw for a fraction of a second all those weeks ago.

“Well, it’s a good start. Obviously the chips were a bonus.”

“Ah, yeah. I thought those might be a nice touch.” He pauses. “Hey, are your flowers still doing good? Or are they dead?”

“I feel like I’m in danger of receiving more flowers if these ones are dead,” Jolie muses.

“Danger? Really?”

“You know you don’t have to keep me in constant supply of flowers, right? Besides, I’m planning on drying the ones I have now.”

“Consider it a present for making you stay inside for so long.”

Jolie hums on the other side, and Jimin finds himself nodding along to the sound. “About that...any updates? Do I have any more stalkers?”

Jimin shivers at the thought. He’s dealt with his fair share of stalkers over the years, he’s had quite enough of them. “Nothing yet, but we should know more by tonight at the latest. I’ll be sure to call you as soon as I know.”

It’s quiet on the other side, but Jimin allows some time for the quiet to settle. When he doesn’t get a response back for a while, he quietly speaks.

“Hey, you alright over there?”

There’s a long sigh, one that he thinks he wasn’t supposed to hear. “Mm? Oh, yeah. All good. You good?”

Jimin smiles. “All good.”

✂

House arrest doesn’t suit me. It’s going on day three, and I’ve found that the thrill of television isn’t what it used to be. Especially not as the pile of empty chocolate wrappers grow.

I told Jimin as much last night before I went to bed. I also accused him of trying to make me gain weight. He only cackled and told me he’d send over healthier foods in the morning.

I should have known it sounded too good to be true. This morning I checked my porch to see a suspicious grocery bag with bananas and apples on the top. Upon further inspection I found that the fruit was only a cover for what lay underneath.

Two more bags of assorted chocolates.

Oh, and a note that Jimin must have added for the deliverer which was left on the bag. It simply said: delivery request: please hide chocolate under the fruit.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Wow, so are we past saying hello when we call? I don’t know how I feel about that.”

I try to ignore how easy - how right - it feels to just grab my phone and call Jimin up. There are still a fair amount of nerves going into it, but over the past few days we’ve grown accustomed to it.

“You sent me more chocolate!”

“Buuut I countered it with fruit. Isn’t that good?”

I roll my eyes. “Sure, but the fact that you’re forcing me to practice self-restraint is absolutely horrible.

“Ah, I see. So next time I should just send the apples?”

“No…”

I find a comfortable spot on the couch, staring at the calendar before me. Staring at the date, with a little circle around it.

Nothing to celebrate today. But certainly something to remember.

Jimin’s rambling - he rambles, I’ve come to learn this - about his day and how they have an interview coming up this weekend, however I find that I’m struggling to listen. Especially as the calendar grows larger and larger in my eyes.

I wait until it’s dark to slip out.

With my pre-ordered train ticket shining on my phone, I keep my head down and my hood up as I rush to the station. At this time of night on a weekday, there aren’t nearly as many people about. That being said, it’s still Seoul. There are still plenty of people on the sidewalks, and I can only pray that they don’t notice my lack of a red thread amidst the sea of threads adorning the roads.

Thankfully, I make it to the station without much of an issue. It isn’t long before I’m settled and holding the dried hydrangeas close to my chest.

It isn’t a long ride to my hometown, only about twenty minutes by train. Throughout the entire time I remain on high alert, knowing that if I somehow wind up in trouble that Bighit may very well murder me in my sleep.

I watch as the train rolls to a stop at my destination, and I hurry off before anyone can notice me. Once I’m outside, I let out a sigh of relief.

It’s been too long.

One year, actually.

The cemetery isn’t far from the station, and I don’t dare risk a taxi. So, with my flowers still in hand, I begin my silent pilgrimage.

✂

Not much has changed here. I peeked the same family that runs the sweet shop I used to adore, constantly begging for just enough won for some sweets. The streets even look the same, only a few small changes here and there.

It’s the fact that this was my home but that I don’t quite belong here anymore that makes my feet all the heavier. When the cemetery finally comes into view, I take a deep breath and trudge onward.

Coming to a stop before a small tombstone, I groan and kneel before it. It was a longer walk than I remembered.

“Hey Mom,” I whisper, taking care to gently separate the bouquet in half and lay some flowers on either side. “Dad.” Once the flowers are in their proper places, I lean back on my hands.

“I’m not really supposed to be outside right now...but, I promised I’d visit every year, didn’t I?” I look expectantly at the tombstone, but receive no answer. The stone is cold and unwavering, but I find that I don’t mind. The moon is bright and full, shining down enough light to see clearly. “Well, I’m here. I would have brought you some fresh flowers but...well, things are a little complicated right now.”

Inhaling deeply, I chew on my bottom lip before exhaling. As I do, my vision blurs a bit with unshed tears. Finally, bringing my left hand forward, I look down at the severed thread.

“Mom, you wouldn’t know who he is, but I met my soulmate. Well, not officially, I guess. That’s where things get complicated. But I’m trying to fix it.” Looking heavenward, I watch the stars winking down at me. “Dad, you’ll know him. His name is Park Jimin.”

✂

“What do you mean she’s not home?”

Jimin is currently pacing in the living room, listening to Sunmi’s voice on speaker. The others sit in various spaces around the room, each mirroring a look of concern.

Sunmi had been cleared to head over to Jolie’s, which Jimin had deemed a tender mercy. He felt horrible for her, knowing that she was probably going crazy. So, Sunmi had gone over to surprise her.

Except there was one little problem.

“I’m telling you, she’s not here,” Sunmi responds, struggling to maintain her composure. “I got here about ten minutes ago and knocked, but all the lights were off and it looked like nobody was home. Nobody’s answering. She’s not here, and she won’t answer her phone.”

Jimin looks around the room in horror. Automatically his mind conjures up the worst-possible scenarios. “Where would she go? There’s no sign of a break-in, right?”

Chung-hei frowns on the other side of the room, pulling her phone out. “I’ll check her location right now,” she reassures.

“No, everything looks normal. Should I ask around? See if anyone’s seen her?”

“No, not yet. That will only raise suspicion.” Jimin says, watching with bated breath and Chung-hei tries to locate his soulmate.

When Chung-hei’s expression changes from confused worry to stunned understanding, Jimin isn’t sure how to react.

“What is it?” He asks, impatient.

“I didn’t realize,” Chung-hei mumbles. “What’s the date today?” She answers the question herself, confirming it. “She’s back home.”

“What do you mean? Sunmi just said-”

“No, not that home.” Chung-hei flips the phone around to show him. “It’s been a year. And she promised him she’d visit every year.”

It takes a moment for Jimin to process the information, already thinking about how quickly he can convince someone to tail him while he drives out to Jolie. She can get in the other car to return, obviously so she doesn’t have to see him-

“One year.” Jimin blinks, suddenly remembering what Jolie mentioned in her letter. “It’s the anniversary of her father’s passing.”

Chung-hei’s solemn nod is answer enough.

Jimin stumbles back to sit in the nearest chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “I need to go out there-”

“No, you know you can’t do that,” Namjoon immediately rejects.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

Namjoon grinds his jaw, glancing at Chung-hei as the two share a silent conversation. When Namjoon’s shoulders relax, Jimin finds himself hoping. There’s no way he can leave Jolie to go through this alone.

“Bang Sihyuk will kill us if he finds out,” Namjoon begins.

“I don’t care-”

“I do.” Namjoon sighs. “So don’t get caught.”

Jimin blinks. “What?”

Namjoon shrugs, looking around the room. “Don’t get caught. Make it look like you snuck out.”

Leaping to his feet, Jimin hardly has time to grab his jacket before he’s flying out the door. “Send me the location!” He shouts out before the door closes.

He doesn’t know what possesses him as he sprints down the street, but he’s reminded of the last time he went running toward his soulmate.

This time, he knows that he’s been through the heartbreak. Surely he’s been through the worst of it. Now, all that’s on his mind is the fact that his soulmate is alone and she shouldn’t be.

He’s tired of being alone.

It’s been years since Jimin last took the train, but Chung-hei explains in her text containing Jolie’s location that it might be his best bet.

Without a second thought, Jimin boards the train and heads toward his soulmate.

✂

My eyelids are drooping, but the walk back to the train station seems daunting. “I need to get going,” I mumble.

My voice is a little hoarse from all the talking I’ve done over the past hour. Even in death, my parents can’t escape my rambling.

Not that I think they mind.

I rise to my feet, taking one last look at the flowers that my soulmate gifted me before leaving them there on the tombstone.

“Goodnight, Mom and Dad.”

Despite my exhaustion, I remember to walk briskly back toward the gas station. I keep my head down with my hands in my pocket.

My heart feels a little heavy tonight. I shoot a melancholy smile toward the stars, who act as my solitary companion tonight. I can’t shake the feeling that I would really rather not be alone tonight.

Nobody deserves to mourn alone.

My fingers itch to call Jimin or Christina or anybody, but I put it off. I had my phone on silent, and the last thing I needed was bringing attention to myself by talking loud enough for everyone to hear. If Jimin found out that I was out here…

He’d probably stop sending me chocolates. At the very least.

Yes, it would be best to wait until I’m home and in the warmth of my bed before calling him.

Like a dream, my feet carry me toward the train station. It’s downhill for the most part, making it easier than I thought it would be. A tender mercy, I suppose, for a day like today.

Thankfully, it’s late enough now that the station is empty for the most part. Only a few stragglers wander about, all of which are too tired to pay me any mind. However, as I near the ticket booth, I feel it.

Almost like something pulling on my thread. It’s a similar feeling to what I felt as the thread had been cut, but there’s no reason for it to be acting up again.

“That’ll be 26,000 won,” the person on the other side of the booth drawls, looking for all the world like they’d rather walk across hot coals then have to spend another moment here.

“Oh, right.” I pull the money from my wallet, sliding it under the little window. “Sorry about that, I got distracted-”

“Here ya go,” they interrupt, clearly not very interested in what was distracting me. All the better, I suppose.

Thanking them, I pocket the ticket and make my way to a bench before the platform. The train should be here in about fifteen minutes.

But there’s that annoying tug again, nearly pulling my hand off my lap. I frown down at the thread, too tired to put that much thought into it. I’ll have to ask Christina if she’s ever known a thread to act up.

There’s a cold draft in the station, one that only gets worse as an incoming train pulls up and comes to a stop. I keep my head down as the doors open and people begin to file out.

At least, I try to until I’m practically thrown off my seat as my thread pushes and pulls at me. It’s starting to cause a scene, so I hurry off to the side and half-hide behind a pillar. Hopefully nobody will question why I gave up my perfectly nice seat.

Burying my hand in my pocket, I look around to make sure nobody is coming my way when my eyes catch on something- or rather, a lack of something.

Someone walks off the train, however the typical red thread doesn’t accompany them.

That’s not the only thing that alarms me. It’s the fact that I know them.

Park Jimin glides off of the train and looks around, trying to deduce which exit to take. He pulls his phone out to look at something when he drops it due to a sudden jolt.

I watch, utterly paralyzed as he stumbles forward. Almost as though pulled by some invisible thread.

His eyes are wide and he’s practically buried under the large, puffy jacket he wears. It’s brown, to match his brown hair, which is ridiculously ruffled. He’s chewing on the inside of his lips as he lifts his head to look around yet again.

From across the station, our eyes meet. Slowly, so slowly it burns, I see the recognition register in his eyes as he trails from my face down to my left hand and back up to my eyes again.

Jimin freezes, and I realize that it isn’t because he’s afraid or nervous.

This is my choice to make. Even now, after all that’s happened, he still allows me to choose.

So, with a tentative step forward quickly followed by another, I choose him.

Previous - Next

main masterlist

taglist is open! comment/send an ask, or click on the link in the series masterlist!

taglist: @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine@baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton@thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader@heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797  @eusticenatalie@hesmyphenominiall@miriamxsworld @kayahay @onewoneman@preciouschimine @missseoulite @somewhereinthestarss @chubsjmin @daydreamerwestwood @010op10 @4evahevah @mawwnsterr@hikka-light @biasnation @eusticenatalie@betysotelo18 @fangirl125reader  @shhhhsecwet@channiespup @loudnecktrashrascal @protontippens​

[lovemybluebully]

Danger Room Level 1

Posted this at the beginning of the year on my DA account. Thought I’d throw it up on here. This was my first Wolverine tickle pic in 4 years! O_O

https://www.deviantart.com/lovemybluebully/art/Danger-Room-Level-1-865337680

Wrote a little story to go along with it.

Story is below the ‘Keep Reading’ line.

*/M Tickle Fic (Obviously lol) "Any other surprise challenges for me today, bub? Or is that all ya got?" Wolverine smirked confidently up at the team leader of the X-men, glancing over his shoulder at the pile of rubble consisting of destroyed weaponry and dismembered sentinels and robots of all sizes. Cyclops only sighed as he shook his head and looked down at the Canadian brawler from the control room of their training facility, having exhausted almost every combination of attacks that he could think to throw at him.

These scenarios of Wolverine slicing and dicing up every obstacle and foe were quite predictable and honestly getting a tad boring to watch over and over. Scott decided it was time to try something a little different. "No, this just isn't working. These upper level programs are just all foreseeable for you. Lets try something new. I say we scrap everything and start over from scratch. How about we start you at level 1?"

Logan's smirk disappeared as he frowned up at the other man. "Level 1? Yer kiddin' me, right? That's the program the Professor uses to train the kiddies."

"Trust me Logan it'll be perfect for you. Since you've always skipped over the bottom levels you'll have no idea what they contain so you won't be able to predict them so easily. Hell I don't even know myself exactly what is on each level, but lets give it a shot! Maybe we'll both learn something." Scott actually wasn't lying since he himself had been too competent for those beginner programs when he had joined the X-men. It was likely that Logan would just blow right through them, but he was curious and quite frankly desperate for a change of pace. "Fine. But this is gonna be just a waste o' time," Logan grumbled as he lazily stretched out his arms and cracked his neck. "Don't underestimate the Danger Room and dismiss this program so easily. It may be aimed towards the less experienced, but should still provide its own formidable experience. Remember to stay alert and don't let your guard down." Wolverine just scoffed and blew off his advice like he normally did. "Yeah whatever Slim. Lets get on with it."

"Ok great. Now just a moment here. I'm initiating level 1....," Scott uttered with some fast typing on the control board before pressing one final button, "Now." They waited for a few quiet moments, but nothing happened. Logan was about to quip some sarcastic remark when finally the Danger Room began to show some activity. A compartment on the wall opened and two gloved robotic hands being controlled by metal tentacles began to slowly make their way over to him. Logan snorted in disbelief and shook his head as he looked over the two appendages and noted that they were not holding any kinds of weapons; basically looking completely harmless.

"That's it? This is ridiculous. What's next, a pillow fight? Not that I expected this crap to be any kinda challenge whatsoever," Logan rolled his eyes as he raised his hands into the air and released his deadly claws; ready to dispatch the advancing robot hands with a quick swipe once they closed in. Not even a second later he quickly found his arms ensnared as two metal tentacles had crept in from behind to successfully restrain him much to Logan's shock. He growled as he tried to slice at the tentacles with his sharp claws, but they firmly held his arms away from each other just above his head. The distraction had been just enough that he barely had time to notice that the gloved hands had now reached him as one of them wasted not a moment to grab hold of the hem of his uniform's shirt and roughly jerk it upwards, exposing his bare stomach.

"Hey! What is...?!" He shouted in confusion; his words cut off as the other hand immediately shot forward and buried it's furiously wriggling digits right into his muscular belly.

Logan hadn't listened to Scott. He had let his guard down completely when he had seen this "threat" first enter the room. His overconfidence was now going to be his downfall for mocking the capabilities of the robot hand; the hand that was now ruthlessly tickling him. This tactic was a complete shock to him, and having not put up any of his mental defenses in preparation the laughter exploded out of him as soon as contact was made. "Ahahahaahaa! Wha-Whahahat's goin' ohohohon?! Stahahap thaaat!" He howled out at the mindless hand that relentlessly continued tickling all over his sensitive abdomen; the other hand holding his shirt securely out of the way. Scott too was in complete awe by just what method the program had decided to use, though he couldn't help but grin as he saw the situation that his normally cantankerous teammate was now in. It was already a known fact by the mansion's inhabitants that Logan was surprisingly ticklish as his female team members found it quite endearing and took great delight in ganging up on the burly mutant at times. Heightened senses did have their drawbacks. Still nothing that Scott himself would partake in, knowing that while Logan might put up with it from the ladies he was pretty sure he'd be skewered on the spot if he even made a hint at attempting such a thing. In a way he now felt that he had a sense of power in having Logan in this position. "See? That's what happens when you underestimate the situation, now get to work Logan. Tickling probably isn't a real world offensive that you're going to run into, but no harm in being extra prepared." Wolverine's claws remained out, but he couldn't move his arms enough to free himself. Unable to think straight he continued to fail in his efforts to come up with a strategy to get out of this aside from yelling up at the amused operator in the control room. "Cyyyykehehehee! Tuhuhurn thihis shihihihiiit ohahahahoff!!" Arms bulging he thrashed uselessly in the grip of the tentacles, trying to block the torturous hand from his body by lifting his knee to no avail. He'd been tickled worse than this before, but never had he been this helpless to defend himself. Meanwhile Scott mused over the scene before him. It in fact was a little stupid to be messing with one of the world's deadliest mutant's like this, and he was pretty sure there would be Hell to pay later. His hand hovered momentarily over the button to shut down the Danger Room, but then he pulled back. "No, I think you just need a little more time to figure this out. I have faith in you. I mean, this program is only used to train the 'kiddies', right?" Yup. He was pretty sure Logan was going to kill him after this. "Fuhuhuhuck yooooouuuu!!" Logan cackled as he desperately tried to regain some kind of focus though was only barely able to retract his claws back into his hands, knowing that they were of no use. "Aw c'mon Logan. You're not that ticklish, are you? Can't resist just one little hand tickling you?" Scott couldn't help but tease a bit, having on more than one occasion seen Logan nearly lose his mind from just having his stomach tickled by his teenage sidekick, Jubilee. No sooner had he said that when a third hand began to move in from out of Logan's sight before grabbing the squirming mutant right below his ribs as the fingers playfully dug in over and over again.

"Bwahahahahahahahahaa!! Noooo!! Gehehet 'em offa meeheeheehee!!" Roaring with laughter from the added torture Logan was regretting not taking the lowest level of the Danger Room more seriously. With his arms being held out of the way he couldn't even use them to help guard his body no matter how hard he pulled to free them. It wasn't much longer before his legs began to weaken as he attempted to sink to the floor to hopefully get him a split second of reprieve.

He was allowed to move to the ground, but the hands were unrelenting. With a firm tug the restraining tentacles around his forearms pulled him down onto his back as a few more hands now appeared seemingly out of nowhere to join in tickling under his arms and the other side of his ribcage.

"No!! No!! Stahahahap ihihihihit!! Lemme outtahahaha heeheeheeeere!!" The Wolverine howled as he kicked and squirmed like crazy; his armpits being one of his worst spots. Two other metal tentacles quickly slithered over and grabbed onto each leg to stretch him out and prevent him from curling up in defense. Tears crept out of the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard as so far he had made no progress in getting loose. "Very disappointing Logan. I thought for sure you'd have passed all these lower levels with ease. Well it seems we've uncovered your true weakness. Something that your healing factor won't protect you from. We'll probably have to repeat this level over and over until you get it right," Scott grinned wider, only half serious as he liked to push Logan's buttons at any given opportunity. He was hardly listening though; too focused on the incessant tickle torture. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse two additional hands made their way over and quickly tugged off his boots, revealing his twitching bare feet as Logan's eyes bulged in panic. "HEY!! Hey hey waahaahaait a m...minute!! No don't!! Not the-AAAHAHAHHAHAHA!!" Fingers wildly scratched at his tender soles, tickling from his wide heels to up under his curled up toes with not a thing he could do to stop them. He was laughing harder than he'd ever had as the tears began to roll down his cheeks. He absolutely could not handle having his feet tickled and once had accidentally kicked Rogue for trying. Luckily she is a tough woman though she used it as an excuse to really punish him with his ankles trapped in the crook of her super strong arm while Logan hysterically cried 'Uncle'. This was more than he could stand. Being spread out and tickled in all his most sensitive spots at once with no way to guard himself was where he drew the line. He loathed the thought of what he was about to do, but he couldn't hold back the frantic pleas that came pouring out. "NAAAHAHAHAHAHOOOO!! N-NO MORE!! STOPSTOP!! PLEEHEEHEEEEASE!! I CAN'T..HAHAHAHAHAA..CAAHAAHAAN'T T-TAKE THIHIHIIS SHIIIIIT!!" Scott was just enjoying the show as he chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "Wow. Who knew? All one has to do to defeat Wolverine is to tickle him and he'll be begging for mercy. Better hope none of your enemies ever find out about this one."

And with that he finally pushed the button to shut down the currently running program in the Danger Room. He'd have been more than happy to let it keep going, but even he could feel some sympathy for his frenemy and knew once he started begging that he had had enough. Logan instantly panted in relief as the hands all stopped tickling him while he was gently released from the restraints, everything then retracting back into the chambers that they had emerged from. A giggle escaped him here and there as he still had a phantom feeling of the fingers all over on his body.

Scott slowly clapped his hands in jest from the control room as he grinned down at the seemingly lifeless body. "Not bad, Logan! I think you almost had it there, but I'm sure you'll do better next time! So what do you think? Ready for level 2?"

The middle claw that immediately popped out of Logan's fist crudely gave him his answer.

[wisteriashouse]

stranded.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1960

The mission was a success.

Although it is more common for Pillars to work alone to make full use of their manpower, Oyakata-sama had assigned you and Kyoujurou on a joint mission. There was a disturbance in a remote village in the far west, rumored to one of the Twelve Moons devouring people. Luckily, the two of you had managed to subdue and slay it before it could kill and feast on even more victims before proceeding to clear the surrounding forests of any more demons.

However, the both of you had gotten snowed in due to an avalanche blocking off the mountain pass, and hence are to be stranded there for the next three days.

The second you wave off the last villager come to thank you for saving her child, you promptly make your way into your room, slide the door shut and proceed to collapse onto the tatami on the spot. Every bone in your body is aching as if you’ve been run over by a train and all its carriages; you have no idea how Kyoujurou still has the energy to help the villagers bury the rest of the bodies. You had tried to insist on helping as well, but your fellow Pillar had cheerily shooed you off to rest, reassuring you that’d they’d be done in no time.

Rolling over into a more comfortable position, you wince when fresh pain blooms across your shoulder blade and immediately scramble to your knees to take stock of your injury. The adrenaline from the battle earlier must be wearing off, because the moment you try to look over your own shoulder, about ten different muscles howl at you in protest. You groan. 

“That’s just wonderful.”

Shrugging the haori off your shoulders, you study the dark red stain on the fabric contemplatively and consider if this is an injury you can simply shrug off. Common sense and your desire to actually live beyond thirty tells you no, so you sigh and drag yourself to your feet.

You could do with another pair of eyes. 

Stepping out barefoot onto the engawa, you tip toe your way to the room next to yours. The candles aren’t lit, and you briefly wonder if Kyoujurou is still not back or if he’s already retired for the night. While you’re pondering this outside, the door slides open all of a sudden, startling you.

“Kyoujurou! You scared me!” You tell him, one hand over your chest. Your friend smiles at you brightly from the doorway.

“My apologies! I was wondering why you were dawdling about outside instead of entering!” He’s in a slight state of undress, his Flame Pillar haori absent and two buttons on his uniform undone. He must have been in the middle of changing out of his clothes and getting ready for bed. “Do you need something from me?”

“Sorry for disturbing you, I just wanted to know if you made it back safely.” You shake your head, intent on just checking out your injury tomorrow. It’s not like you’ll die overnight, will you? “I’ll leave you to your rest now.”

With a wave you turn to leave, but before you can, Kyoujurou’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“I wish that you would be more forward with me!” Kyoujurou declarers loudly out of the blue, and you whirl around to look at him with wide eyes. He’s smiling at you, hopeful and genuine. “As fellow Pillars, we should help and rely on each other! Furthermore, you’re a precious friend of mine. I’d love to help you out, if you need me!”

Red colors your cheeks, and you glance to the side, embarrassed. “Of course. My apologies.” You mumble, “It’s just been so long that we’ve met that it feels a little awkward. You’re a precious friend to me too, Kyo.”

At your words, Kyoujurou practically radiates happiness in the dim hallway. “That makes me happy to hear! Come on in!” He ushers you inside quickly, sliding the door shut behind you. You take a seat on the floor and make yourself comfortable, watching him move around the room to light the lamps. Soft candlelight springs to life, bathing the room in a dim orange glow, and he turns back to you once he’s done. “What is it that you need?”

“Well, I might have gotten an injury on my back, but I can’t see how severe it is. I need you to help me take a look.” You explain, and his eyes narrow in concern. In a few quick steps he’s by your side, kneeling behind you to examine your injury. 

“Your uniform appears to have been slashed, but I am unable to take a closer look as your clothes are in the way.” Kyoujurou says, and you frown. This is going to be a pain... “Perhaps you should...” His words trail off, suddenly hesitant, and you laugh quietly under your breath. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him being flustered. “I can call one of the women from the village to help you instead-”

“No need to, it’s late and they’ve had a long night. Besides, I trust you.” You say, a little amused as you reach up to undo the buttons of your top. “Turn away for a bit.”

“Of course!” His voice quavers just so slightly, and you can’t help the soft laughter that escapes you. Rengoku Kyoujurou, Flame Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corps, is endearing cute in your eyes, you think. Pulling off your top and wincing when the dried blood tugs at your injury, you use it to cover your front before calling to him.

“You can look now.”

You hear him shift to face you, and then there’s a little intake of breath as he sees your back. “There’s a cut on your left shoulder blade, about the length of my palm.” He explains seriously as he checks over your injury. “It doesn’t appear to be bleeding very much, but you should get it treated as soon as possible before infection sets in.”

“Ahh, got it. I’ll go to the village tomorrow morning and ask for some medicine.” You turn around to smile at him. “Thanks for your help, Kyoujurou.”

“I have medicine!” Kyoujurou announces enthusiastically before you can so much as think about leaving. “I visited Kochou’s estate before this mission, so I happen to have some ointment from her. I’m sure it’ll make you feel better! Give me a moment.” He rummages through his belongings and pulls out a distinctively lacquered container proudly. “Here it is!”

“Shouldn’t you keep that for something more important, Kyoujurou?” You ask him, worried. He’s headed out for another mission right after this one, after all. “I could always just get patched up at the village tomorrow. It doesn’t hurt much.”

“Nonsense!” Kyoujurou insists. “You are a precious friend, it would not be wasted on you.” When he sees your hesitance, his voice softens slightly. “Please, let me take care of you.”

Cheeks heating up slightly, you nod and turn around to hide your face from his gaze. “If you want to, then go ahead.” You say softly under your breath, and you can feel Kyoujurou’s smile behind you.

Demon Slayers are no stranger to injuries, and Kyoujurou has certainly faced his fair share of them before. He prepares the gauze and disinfectant liquid with practiced movements, raising them to your back with cautious hands. He’s clearly mindful of your injury. 

“This might hurt a little,” he warns you, and you hum in acknowledgement.

“I trust you.” The words leave you easily. Kyoujurou’s fingers are warm against your skin.

When the disinfectant touches your gash, you bite back your wince at the sting, but of course Kyoujurou hears it. “Does it hurt?” He asks, clearly upset at the thought of causing you any pain, but you shake your head.

“No, I’m fine. I honestly didn’t think I was going to get injured, but today’s demon was really quite interesting.” You think aloud as Kyoujurou wipes down the area around your wound carefully. “I can’t believe I let myself get hurt by a Lower Moon. Embarrassing, don’t you think?”

“You’re not weak at all!” Kyoujurou pauses in treating your wound to scold you, and you turn around to see him smiling encouragingly at you. “You sustained it saving a little boy, did you not? It is not something to be embarrassed of!”

You laugh, turning back so that he can tend to your injury. “Thanks, Kyoujurou.”

“It’s not a problem! I simply spoke the truth.” He tells you as his fingers resume work once more, dabbing ointment on your wound. The faint smell of antiseptic tickles your nose. “It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you.” Kyoujurou’s voice is a hint softer than usual. “You’re just as selfless as I remember.”

His words make you smile, a light fluttering in your chest. “I’m glad I got to come on this mission with you too, Kyo. Since you became a Pillar, I rarely get to see you aside from Hashira meetings. Maybe getting snowed in was a blessing in disguise for me.” You laugh a little at your own words.

“I feel the same.” Kyoujurou’s breath dances across the back of your neck as he leans over to reach some of the smaller cuts on your shoulder. Content and safe with him, the exhaustion from today starts to catch up with you and you feel your eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes.

“I’m done.” Kyoujurou announces after a few minutes as he secures the knot on your dressing. “Although the wound is not severe, but it’d be good for you to get it changed daily to prevent infection. You should head back to your room now and rest properly-” Your head tilts forward and Kyoujurou pauses mid-sentence to realise you’ve already fallen asleep.

He briefly wonders if he should wake you, but his hand hovers over your shoulder when he catches sight of your sleeping face. Letting out a soft sigh, he murmurs to himself. “Falling asleep in a man’s room like this, you’re truly are cruel for making me suffer in this way.” 

Instead, he averts his gaze and slips his arms beneath your knees and back, careful to avoid your injury, and carries you to the bedding he’d set out earlier for himself. Gently laying you out on it, he makes sure to cover you with the thick blanket so that you don’t catch a cold, and then brushes the hair out of your eyes with a tender hand as he looks down at you with a pained smile.

“You’re so defenseless around me.” He says softly into the quiet of the room, silent except for the sound of the winter wind outside. “I wonder if it’s because you trust me, or because you don’t see me that way at all...”

With a slightly self deprecating sigh, he makes to get up, intent on heading over to your room to sleep instead. Before he can leave, however, a smaller hand wraps around his wrist, holding him in place.

“Kyo...” Kyoujurou looks down to see you pressing his hand to your cheek, a content smile on your face as you sleep. “Warm...”

His heart stumbles in his chest. Despite the winter chill in the air, Kyoujurou feels unbearably warm.

He settles back onto the ground, back against the wall as he looks at you with a resigned smile. “What am I to do with you, really...” His own eyes slide shut, but his hand remains tightly held in yours throughout the entire night.

The two of you fall asleep together, each dreaming of the other even as the sun begins to rise over the mountaintops.

[skyguy-snips]

Chapter 3: Emergency Call

Book 3: Replacements

Words: 1377

Masterlist | Tag List

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

“Okay, I need you to hold this wire here and here while I fuse them,” he instructed, passing the wires to her. She took them, holding the ends together.

“Tech, if you burn me…”

“Oh, relax.”

----------

Skylar had been helping the boys in the cockpit for a while, stepping outside a few times with them as they fixed a panel or two, where she acted as their guard. She stood with her back to them, dual blasters drawn as she scanned their surroundings.

Back in the cockpit, she sat in one of the seats as she attempted to straighten out some wiring on the circuit board Echo handed her. She saw movement down the hall, glancing up to see Wrecker moving about. His arms were full of random things, and he tossed them into the rear gunner seat. She was glad he was feeling a bit better, the bacta patch already gone from his head.

She turned back to the wires, a sigh leaving her.

“I don’t think I can get them much more uniform, Echo,” she said, waving the board in his direction. He just grabbed it, studying it for a few seconds before shrugging.

“This should work, thanks Sky,” he said, flashing a smile before crouching to the floor and working to reinstall it. She returned his smile, taking a deep breath and leaning back in her seat. She closed her eyes, finally relaxing for a moment. She listened to the sounds of the boys’ machines whirring and sparking, Echo swearing under his breath when he dropped something on the floor.

There was suddenly a loud static from each of their comms, the sound at an unbearable volume. They all stopped what they were doing, hands flying up to cover their ears and Tech ripping his helmet off due to the volume from the internal comms. It kept going, Tech scrambling to stop it.

Choppy gaps started appearing in the sound, and it almost seemed like there were words.

“Tech, are those words?” she shouted over the noise, straining to make them out. Tech just worked at the panel, trying to make the sound clearer. Suddenly, they heard a garbled and choppy voice coming through. Omega.

“--cho--ylar--Wre--Tech, come i--. We n---elp!”

Skylar’s eyes blew wide, running over to the panel.

“Tech, can you get a response to her?” she asked, worried. Tech was silent for a few moments before shaking his head with a sigh.

“I’m not even sure how her signal got through, this storm should be completely blocking the comms by this point,” he said. He pressed several more buttons, the map on the screen shifting and turning.

“Since her message did come through, however, I have pinpointed their location at the time of the call,” he continued. Skylar looked at the map, noticing that they were only two clicks off the port side.

“I’ve got this,” she said, grabbing a mask from the stack in the pilot seat. Echo grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“No way are you going alone,” he said, grabbing a mask for himself.

“No, you need to help Tech finish these repairs. If something is seriously wrong, we’ll need to get off this rock as fast as we can,” she said. Echo just watched her for a moment, his mind conflicted. Eventually he sighed, nodding and placing the mask back in the seat.

“Be careful, Sky. If you aren’t back in thirty minutes, we’re coming after you,” he said. She nodded, placing the mask on her face and turning to run out of the door and down the ramp.

----------

She pushed herself to run faster, breath coming in puffs and fogging her mask with each exhale. She checked the map again, realizing she should be right where Omega made the call. She looked around, panting as she leaned over with her hands on her knees.

She straightened, however, when she saw a boot jutting out past a rock formation. Hunter. She leapt over a few large rocks, running the last of the distance and sliding to her knees. Her hands hovered over his face for a moment until she realized he was breathing steadily as the mask fogged over. She took note that his blaster was missing as well.

She stood, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of Omega. She panicked when she couldn’t see her, kneeling back down next to Hunter and gently shaking his shoulder.

“Sarge, wake up,” she said, making sure to glance at her surroundings. It wouldn’t do Hunter or Omega any good if she got injured, too. She looked back down at Hunter, whose eyebrows had scrunched in discomfort.

“Hunter,” she said, much louder this time, shaking his shoulder again. His eyes slowly opened, a groan slipping out as he tried to sit up. Skylar placed an arm behind his back, helping him a bit. He gasped suddenly, hands flying to his mask as if he thought it wouldn’t be there. His breaths came faster as he panicked.

“Omega,” he said, eyes finally catching Skylar’s as she helped him stand up. Once he was steady on his feet, he spun around, scanning the area.

“Omega!” he shouted, the sound echoing slightly off of the rock formations around them. Skylar grabbed his arm, drawing his attention. He glanced back at her, placing a hand on hers when he saw the concern written on her face. He turned back around, pulling his arm away as he knelt down to the ground.

He ran his fingers through the dirt, picking some of it up and rubbing it between his fingers. Skylar didn’t say anything, arms hugged around her middle as she watched him do what he did best: tracking. He stayed crouched for only a few more seconds, looking up from his hand to study one of the rocks ahead of them, a hole in the top leading to the underground tunnels. Skylar immediately knew what he figured out, and she feared the worst.

He jumped up, running towards the opening with Skylar hot on his heels. When they got to the hole, Skylar peered down in it. It was too dark for her to see anything, but they could both hear the screeching roars of the dragon from somewhere inside. Skylar sucked in a breath, worried that Omega could be severely injured, or worse.

“Omega!” Hunter shouted again, still not getting a response. Skylar began climbing on the rock, hands hooked over the edge of the opening. Hunter grabbed her around the waist, yanking her back against his chest as she struggled.

“Not a chance, Sky. I’m not losing you down there, too,” he said, turning to place her behind him. She went to argue, but they heard another terrifying roar come from the tunnels. They both ran back to the edge, trying to see anything. Hunter shouted her name again, panic starting to settle into his voice. Skylar grabbed his hand, squeezing it. After a few seconds, a reply came.

“I’m coming,” they heard her call. They both let out sighs of relief, looking at each other with relieved smiles. Her hands came up over the lip of the entrance, one hand holding the capacitor and the other a DC. Her head popped up next, Hunter immediately reaching down under her arms and scooping her up, placing her back on the ground in front of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands on her shoulders as he slightly shook her. “What were you thinking going down there?”

“The mission was to retrieve the capacitor, wasn’t it?” she responded, seemingly unaffected by the ordeal. “I tracked the dragon, like you did.”

Hunter stood frozen, still leaned over with his hands on her shoulders. Skylar stepped forward placing a hand on his shoulder and giving Omega a grin. The touch shook Hunter out of his shock, his eyes catching what was in one of her hands.

“Is that my blaster?” he asked, taking it from her hand and looking at it.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t have to use it,” she said, glancing between the Hunter and Skylar. “I got the part.”

Skylar took the capacitor from her outstretched hand, glancing at it before looking at Hunter. Hunter looked at her before turning his eyes back to Omega, studying the young girl. Skylar just shook her head, taking Omega’s hand and walking in the direction of the ship.

“C’mon you two. Echo’s going to get worried if we don’t get back soon.”

----------

Tag List (request to be added here)

@graciaramirez @killtherandomness @nerjetiise @photowizard17 @unapprovedtrash @xsweetchanx @hanns1d @lokigirlszendaya @quietly-scrolling-through @wondergal2001 @zombiedixon89

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 13

First

Previous

Next

~~~

Her head reeled as she got in the limo that Bruce had prepared to get her home. She’d gotten the Wayne’s numbers. She was allowed to come back any time. She apparently had an honorary bedroom to decorate already.

She fidgeted with the coffee she’d brought from home, still trying to get rid of the nervous energy from the night. It doesn’t matter how much time you have to prepare yourself or how nice the family is, meeting a friend’s family is a nerve-wracking experience.

Her eyes found their way to Tim across from her. He had his head in his hands like he was nursing a headache.

Marinette glanced at her drink and handed it over. “Caffeine withdrawals already?”

He looked up and smiled, taking it before speaking: “It’s not that, but thanks.”

She pouted. “Well, if it’s not that then you have to give it back!”

Tim laughed and took a sip, then his nose scrunched up and he handed it back. “Gladly. What type of coffee is that?”

She shrugged. “Instant.”

“Why?”

“Cheaper.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Do you need any help?”

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “Just because I go for cheaper things when I can doesn’t mean I’m broke, it just means that I don’t spend money where I don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but that’s awful.”

“Not if you drink it fast enough,” she shrugged. “Weren’t you adopted, though? Wasn’t there a time where you didn’t have, I don’t know, millions of dollars to sit on?”

His face reddened slightly. “Um... about that... I was kinda rich from the getgo.”

She snickered. “The ultimate rich kid, huh? Does the money stack or can you even tell at this point?”

All he could do was grin before the car came to a stop. She glanced up and realized that it wasn’t a stoplight, she was actually at her place. That was quick. Maybe she should learn to drive.

She smiled as Tim walked her up to the apartment and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “That was fun. Terrifying. But fun.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you liked them. And, now that you’ve met my family, you don’t have to go back!”

“Incorrect.” She stepped inside and slipped off her shoes. “I’m going back every day.”

He groaned. “No, don’t do that. I can only keep you and Damian apart for so long! There’s only so many excuses!”

She walked to her mirror and started pulling bobby pins from her hair. “Don’t even see why you’re doing that.”

“It would be a disaster.”

She gave only a short laugh in response.

“No, really! You guys are way too different to get along, and he’s not exactly the most pleasant person to be around at first.”

Her hair came down in an awkward poof over her head and she sighed as she continued to run her fingers through the mess to try and fix it. “Bet you a coffee that it’ll go fine.”

“A coffee that I would already be paying for?”

Marinette snickered. “Of course,” she said, wiping her face.

“Great.” She could almost feel his eyeroll. “But, seriously, the longer it takes for you two to meet, the better. Maybe I can postpone it until one of you dies stupidly. Preferably him, but.”

She finally turned back to look at him and couldn’t help but snicker. He was still hovering in the doorway, apparently unable to come in without express permission to do so.

“I guess I’ll be stopping by Wayne Manor a lot for the next few weeks.”

“You wouldn’t. I’ll revoke your coffee privileges again.”

She didn’t even blink, rifling through her purse for a few seconds to pull out her phone. He frowned curiously as she pulled up her texts. “Mr. Wayne...”

His eyes widened and he finally came in, if only to try and snatch the phone from her hands. She grinned as she dodged his grab and slid away on her socks.

“Have those rich people not taught you that you shouldn’t wear shoes inside?”

He huffed and slipped off his shoes, tossing them at the door and making another lunge for her. She ducked out of the way and then ran to her kitchen area. But now he was blocking her only real exit. Great plan.

She laughed and tried to still look confident, but her eyes were darting around anxiously for escape. “Just give my privileges back and I won’t send anything,” she cooed.

Tim smiled smugly, apparently aware he had won. “No. I don’t think I will.”

She typed a bit and mumbled along: “Please tell Tim to give me back my coffee privileges.”

His smile dropped as her finger hovered over the send button.

They were at a standstill. She couldn’t really run (well, she could technically hop the counter, but that wasn’t exactly a thing normal people could do). Any slow attempts for him would end in her pressing the button, and any fast ones might startle her into pressing it anyways.

He sighed. “Fine. I really need to stop letting you grab phones... You can come once a week.”

She grinned and let her hand fall to her side. “Twice.”

“I won’t let you in.”

“Jason would.”

He shrugged. “Not if I explained why I was doing it.”

She pouted. “C’mon, pleeeease?”

He looked at the puppy-dog eyes. Big mistake. He groaned and threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Fine. Twice a week.”

She grinned and wrapped him in a hug. “You won’t regret it!”

“Definitely will, but...” He smiled and hugged back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “See you tomorrow?”

She nodded and pulled away. “Of course. You’re paying, after all.”

~~~

Alright comet-kun has won comedy everyone go home--

But yeah I could see that. Imo Jason would probably make a bunch of really bad dating AUs for his siblings because ‘they need to find love SOMEWHERE’ and he has exactly 0 clue why they’re so popular. He never does any about himself and when someone asked why he doesn’t like Red Hood he outright ADMITS to being him. No one bats and eye. Everyone thinks Jason is just a master shitposter and/or vigilante superfan.

~

Taglist

@comet-kun @thatonecroc @trippingovermyfeet @swiftie-miraculer13 @nickristus-dreamer @moongoddesskiana @i-am-ironic @indecisive-mess-named-me @thebooki3h @insane-fangirl-of-everything @deepestobservationwombat @theymakeupfairies @fatimaabbasrizvi @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanofalittletoomuch @iamablinkmarvelarmy @nathleigh @lilkymilky @silvergold-swirl @dino-lovingreen-angel @thestressmademedoit @kissa-chan @ladybug-182 @alysrose-starchild @t1dwarrior-of-earth @spyofthenightcourt @rowanrouge @nik-nak-3 @momothefemur

does anyone know why nik-nak-3 and nathleigh don’t work

[nonstop-haikyuu]

Social Media Apologies

This is my first fic with the Haikyuu Headquarters server! And it's my first Daishou fic, as much as I love that snake bastard!! This month's SFW prompt was "meet ugly" so this is about Daishou serving a ball into reader's face which leads to him groveling on social media. Honestly, I hope you guys like this!! Here's the link to the masterlist!

-

For years, I had a string of bad luck that seemed to follow me around no matter where I went or how I acted. My parents cited bad karma or a curse placed upon me when I was a child. I simply called it life being an asshole. When I gained the job as the Sendai Frogs trainer, I knew the dangers of what I was getting into. Volleyballs were constantly flying across the gym and it wasn’t uncommon for someone to catch a spiked ball to the face.

For the most part, I had managed to avoid any strays that came my way, whether it be me blocking the hit or the players that I worked with saving my ass.

That changed the day that we played Yotsuya Motor Spirits. Admittedly, I wasn’t expecting the day to be anything special, especially since Kyotani, Koganegawa, and Kei had finally started working as a team, with their fellow players supporting their talents both as a trio and separately.

“Hey, don’t let them in your head, okay, Kyo? And Tsukki, please don’t rile them up too much. I really don’t want to deal with their coach coming to rip our heads off cause you want to be a dick.” I encouraged, crossing my arms over my chest. The two rolled their eyes at my usual pep talk then mumbled their agreement, turning towards their opponents. Kanji bounced eagerly in front of me and asked, “What about me?”

“Just take it slow, okay? Don’t rush your sets,I know you can do this.” I replied, patting him on the shoulder. He grinned at my words of wisdom and they soon walked away to line up, prepared to take their stances on the court. The first set passed without anything too out of the ordinary, with snide comments and smug grins exchanged between the net.

It was the second set that seemed to make the match all the more interesting.

Daishou Suguru, an outside hitter from the Spirits, was the man responsible for the shift of the atmosphere. I was returning from the trainer’s room with a bag of supplies, knowing that at the next timeout, Tsukishima and Kanji would need tape for their fingers. Along with that, our libero would likely want his knee braced better, due to an old injury.

I was walking on the corner of the court when the whistle blew and Daishou took his stance for his serve. I glanced up for a brief second to see who would take on the receive, only to realize that the ball was hurtling towards my face at a pace much too fast for me to hide from. Shouts and gasps filled the stadium as I slammed to the floor. Blurry faces crowded around me and I faintly acknowledged the fact that my three friends were looming over me, waving their hands in front of my face.

“Hey, hey, easy. Just lay back, okay?” Kei encouraged, pressing a gentle hand against my shoulder. I groaned at the pain in my head and nose then mumbled, “Hurts. It hurts. What the hell happened?” Kyotani masked his snarl and bit out, “Bastard snake nailed you in the face with a serve. Might wanna hold still, Coach thinks you have a concussion and a broken nose.”

“You realize that I can hear you, right? It’s not like I meant to hit them. I was shooting for a service ace, give me a break.” Daishou replied, rolling his eyes.

“Shit, this hurts.” I grumbled as Tsukki pressed a wad of tissues under my nose. Daishou knelt beside me and murmured, “Hey, I’m really sorry about hitting you in the face. I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m kinda pissed that you serve bad enough to hit someone on the sidelines.” I snapped, pushing myself up. Kogane’s eyes widened at my bitter tone and harsh words, then Daishou spat, “You were walking in front of the barrier. You should have enough brains to know to walk behind it.”

I jerked my head towards the wing spiker, groaning at the sharp jab of pain and bit out, “Maybe you should learn how to serve properly then. If your serves are that high, then you’re not doing something right.” Kyotani helped me to my feet then I heard the snake hiss, “Bitch just needs to learn where to stand during a game.”

An argument between Tsukishima and Daishou began to rise with Kogane attempting to coax his teammate out of the fight. Kyotani braced against me then grumbled, “You never know when to stop talking, do you?” I let out a bitter laugh and mumbled, “He’s the one who will have to deal with the backlash. And I’m the one with a broken nose!”

He patted me on the shoulder and replied, “I’ve learned that you usually get screwed by what you say in the end.” He was right but shit, I was really hoping that I would escape any trouble that followed.

-

I, in fact, did not escape the results of Wednesday’s game. Kyotani, Kogane, and Kei came to visit me in the trainer’s room on Saturday, my first day back from my concussion, and they showed me the results of my broken nose and bitter words towards Daishou.

“Sendai Frogs’ Trainer and Motor Spirits’ Wing Spiker in the midst of a social media battle? Daishou Suguru has gone to social media to publicly apologize to the Sendai Frogs’ trainer after a stray serve broke the trainer’s nose and left them with a concussion. As of right now, the Sendai Frogs have not addressed the situation. The wing spiker seems to be desperate for a response and his fans seem irritated with the lack of acceptance from the trainer. ” Kei read off, raising an eyebrow in my direction. I scoffed at the ridiculous headline then snapped the first aid kit shut as I bit out, “Give me a break. He’s the one who won’t stop tagging me in his stupid apology. I mean, why should I accept his apology twice?”

“Because it’s good publicity and if you don’t accept on social media without a single ounce of sarcasm in it, I think you’ll be finding a new job.” our PR manager answered, entering the room. We twisted at the statement and I snapped, “What are you talking about? I could be fired over this?”

“Not my idea but the Motor Spirits’ manager is pissed that you’re not replying to him publicly so the fans of his team say that you’re being a stuck up bitch.” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. I groaned and flung myself on the trainer’s bed, whining, “This isn’t fair! I’m the one with the broken nose and he’s the one gaining the sympathy? Ugh! Fine, I’ll tweet him now.”

Yanking out my phone, I opened the Twitter app and constructed a tweet, “Daishou-san, I accept your apology. I’m sorry for taking so long to accept publicly.” I clicked send on the public message and grumbled to myself as Kei chirped, “You think the public will leave your little feud at that?” A simple chime followed his question and I glanced down, surprised to see that Daishou had privately messaged me.

“How about dinner on me? I’d really like to make it up to you.” Kei blinked in surprise at the statement then laughed, “Are you going to accept? It’s been a while since you’ve been on a date. I mean, people already think you guys are a thing.”

“Seriously?! Who asked you anyway? Hmm. I mean, I guess I could go out with him?” I asked, tapping my chin. My best friends continued to laugh as I thought over Daishou’s offer then mumbled, “I guess it can’t get worse than it already is.” Typing a quick response, I hovered over the send message then Kyotani huffed, pushing the button himself. We loom over the phone screen, waiting for his response, then a new chat appears with an address linked and a simple, “Tonight, 9 pm. I’ll see you there.” I tilted my head back then asked, “What am I thinking?”

“You need a boyfriend, that’s what you’re thinking.” Kei supplied, patting me on the back. I came to a stand then stated, “I guess I should go get ready for this date, then.”

“You’re gonna have a great time!” Kanji called out, laughter following me out.

9 pm came surprisingly slow, likely due to my repeated glances at my watch. The ramen shop was actually a ten minute drive from my apartment and I often frequented it during the weekends. I was thankful for the familiarity and lowkey manner of the shop. It would provide some comfort to me.

Bowing briefly at the shop owner, I glanced around and spotted Daishou in the corner. He smiled at my appearance then pulled out the stool across from him. I settled down on the seat and he admitted, “I’m not going to lie, I kind of thought you weren’t going to show up.” I laughed at his statement then replied, “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Tsukki definitely wasn’t confident in you showing up.”

“Well, Four Eyes is best buds with Kuroo and that cat hasn’t liked me since middle school. You look beautiful by the way. I really am sorry about breaking your nose and giving you a concussion.” he remarked, scratching the back of his neck. I pressed a gentle finger to the bridge of my nose then stated, “Don’t worry about it. Neither of us could really do anything about this. You’re a persistent asshole, though. Why did you ask me out for dinner?”

He paused at the question and answered, “I thought you were pretty. And I like that you didn’t let me be an asshole. At least, not without a fight.” I laughed, shaking his head, and chirped, “You thought I was hot while I was being a bitch? Are you a masochist or something?”

“More of a sadist, if I’m being honest.” he blurted out, playing with my fingers. My eyes widened at his bluntness then he leaned forward with a remark, “But that can wait until after dinner. What would you like?”

We glanced over the menu and I found myself studying Daishou. His hair was relatively short, barely hanging on his forehead and it looked soft until the ramen shop’s lights. Green eyes flickered back and forth over the options and my gaze continued down to petal pink lips. His tongue flicked out and I’m surprised to see that he has a tongue ring, with fangs in place of normal canines.

“Snake bastard… I thought Kyotani was being a dick, not being serious.” I mumbled, reaching to cup his face. He startled at the sudden touch and his eyebrows furrowed together, asking, “Can I help you with something?”

“Fangs… you have fangs.” I breathed, focused on his mouth. He laughed at the awe in my voice then replied, “I was born with them. I got my tongue pierced right after college on a bet.” He wiggled his tongue afterwards and returned his attention to the menu as the server approached our table.

“Hello! What can I get for you?” I turned with a smile as I gave my order then dropped my hand away from Daishou’s face so he could answer. Once she wrote down our selected meals, she gave a small bow and informed us that our food would soon be out.

“I’m sorry. You must think that I’m a crazy person for grabbing your face like that.” I apologized, burying my face in my hands. He laughed at my embarrassment and tugged my hands down before he chimed, “It’s okay, I thought it was cute. Honestly, a lot of people are turned off by the fangs. Something about how it’ll hurt if I kiss them. So it’s nice to have someone fascinated by them.”

“I really like it actually. It looks really good.” I murmured, a shy smile stretching across my face. He smiled in return then asked, “So how did you end up as the trainer for the Frogs?” I let out a laugh and answered, “I used to go to Aoba Johnson with Kentarou and went to college with Tsuki. When they joined the Frogs, I heard they were hiring an athletic trainer so I put in an app. Now I’m here and stuck with three blond idiots.”

“Hey I’m not an idiot!” a growl interrupted, jerking our attention to the table behind us. Three men sat there with awful disguises and I could feel my fury beginning to bubble.

“What the hell are you three doing here?” I spat, jerking out of my seat. Daishou started at Kyotani, Kanji, and Kei, the two glaring at Kentarou for blowing their cover.

“Idiot! They haven’t even had dinner yet and now they know we’re here!” Kei hissed, slapping his teammate on the shoulder. I slammed my hands on their table then demanded, “Why are you here?! Which one of you morons thought of this bright idea?”

“Group effort?” Kogane supplied, ducking his head to avoid my glare. Our server returned with our food, with concern across her face then Daishou stated, “Could we get our food to go? Please? We had something come up and can’t stay to eat.” Kei turned with a bitter expression then asked, “Do you think that I would let you go on a date with him by yourself?”

“Yes! I’m a grown adult and I figured you would at least trust me enough to watch over myself! Daishou-san, I am so sorry for this! I didn’t think these three would be this dumb. My apartment isn’t too far from here if you’re still wanting to go on this date?” I asked, turning my attention back to the wing spiker.

He gave a grin and answered, “I would love to. I’ve already paid so I’m ready to go when you are.” The trio began to protest as we walked out of the shop and I shot a glare over my shoulder, hissing, “You follow us and I will end you.” They settled back in their chairs and sighed, shaking their heads.

I turned back to Daishou and he wrapped an arm around my waist, murmuring, “I think we make a pretty amazing couple, what do you think?” I leaned into his side and said, “I think you’re right.”